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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible.

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees.

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were.

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen.

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it.

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

Next part

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

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What The Hell, Gyllenhaal, You Could’ve Just Told Me!

Pairing: Jake Gyllenhaal x F!Reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: None

Genre: Floof

Summary: Y/N is Jake's assistant and he has an interview with Another Man.

Author's Note: I've had enough of not posting so you're getting this. I wrote it a long time ago, I think a few weeks after his actual interview with Another Man. Anyway, I'm posting it now so enjoy!

---

Jake POV:

"Y/N! Where are you?" I groaned as she finally picked up my call. "Outside, open the door!" I got up from the couch and opened the main door to see Y/N rushing towards me. I blinked, she looked so beautiful. Then again, she always did. I ended the call and kept my phone away. "Thank God, where were you?" I asked her as she stood outside, panting. "I'm sorry, my alarm didn't go off, my phone's battery died. I woke up late and then… well, now that I'm here, we should probably leave."

I nodded, grabbing the keys to my car and house. We left the house and got into my car. Y/N, if you didn't know, was my assistant. And she was the prettiest girl I had ever laid my eyes on. "Where to, first?" I asked her. She took out her phone. "Interview for Another Man. Then the photoshoot," she told me. I sighed and she looked at me. "Everything cool?" she asked softly. "Yeah, I'm bored already." She laughed, which made me smile.

"Come on, man! You were so excited about this, I know you. It's something else." I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's nothing, I swear." She stared at me suspiciously for a few seconds and then gave up. "Whatever." There was silence in the car as Y/N opened Instagram on her phone. "Should I put on some songs? We've got at least another half an hour in the car," I said and she shrugged. "Sure! Songs would be nice." I grinned and turned the radio on.

Y/N raised her phone and I glanced at her. Oh, she loved taking photos. I followed her on Instagram, it was the best thing ever. She posted videos of her dancing and singing. As planned, half an hour later, we reached the office of Another Man. I parked the car and the two of us got out. We walked towards the entrance.

"Oh my God, Y/N?!" At the high-pitched squeal, both of us turned around. Two women walked up to us. "Hi," Y/N waved. "We're big fans! We love your Instagram, you have a beautiful voice!" Y/N exchanged hugs with both of them. I stood to the side, smiling. "Holy shit, Jake Gyllenhaal!" one of them squealed, looking at me. "Hello." I shook hands with the two ladies. "Can we get a quick photo, please?" Their names were Rebecca and Julie.

Julie raised her phone to take a selfie. Y/N draped an arm around my shoulders. My arm went around her waist and we smiled at the camera. After that, they went away. "You're more famous now," I teased Y/N as we resumed our walk towards the building. "Shut up," Y/N muttered with a smile on her face, giving me a slight push.

I laughed, shoving my hands in the pocket of my jeans. "Really though, I agree with them. You do have a beautiful voice," I said as we walked into the building. I saw the interviewer and his crew waiting for us.

"Aw, thanks Jakey-poo," Y/N smirked and I rolled my eyes. "Don't call me that," I told her and she shrugged. "Okie, Jacob Benjamin Gyllenhaal," she grinned. "Jake is fine," I sighed, waving at her as I walked towards the interviewer. He led me to another room and I glanced back at Y/N. She sat in the lobby on a couch, keeping her backpack on her lap.

The interviewer and I sat down. "Hi, I'm Alex," he said, holding his hand out. "Hi," I smiled, shaking his hand.

"One question before the cameras roll- Who's the girl outside?" he asked. "Oh, that's my assistant, Y/N Y/L/N. Very sweet gal. She's more famous than I am, apparently," I laughed. "Really? How's that?" Alex asked, amazed. "We met two fans outside, like, 15 minutes ago. They recognized her first," I snorted. Alex laughed, too. The cameras rolled and we began with the interview.

---

"Thank you for talking to us, Jake! It's truly been amazing." Alex and I stood up, shaking hands. "Thank you for having me! Do we do the photoshoot now?" I asked him. "Yeah. We have a few sets designed and a few venues as well, assuming you'll be comfortable shooting at different places?" I scoffed, waving my hand. "Of course, I'm cool." Alex then introduced me to Jessie, who was the photographer. "How about I meet you at the bridge?" she offered.

"Sure, no problem."

She gave me the address and left. I walked out of the room and looked around for Y/N. She wasn't where she was supposed to be. Her stuff was there, where was she? "Boo!" Startled, I turned to look to my right. Y/N was grinning at me, wiping her hands with tissues. "Goddamn it," I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Ha, gotcha. I was in the bathroom, silly," she snorted, walking towards her backpack. She kept her phone away and swung the backpack over her shoulders.

"Where to, Captain?" she asked, tipping an imaginary cap. I told her the address as we walked out of the building. "You know, I met 3 people while you were giving an interview. I guess I am famous," she mumbled. "That is awesome, Y/N," I smiled, getting into the car. Y/N sat next to me and opened her backpack. "Yo, drink water."

She handed me a bottle of water before I could start the car. "I'm not thirsty." She stared at me with a raised eyebrow until I drank some water.

I could never deny her, could I? I had a huge crush on her and it was common knowledge that people would do anything for their crush. I handed the bottle back and started the car. The bridge where we were supposed to go was nearly an hour away. "Ah, here it is. I waited for this for so long now, it's here. I'm impressed." What was she talking about? "What?" I asked her.

"News about us dating!" I nearly swerved the car. "The news about us WHAT?!" I asked her loudly.

"Calm down, you big baby. Apparently when we met Rebecca and Julie there were paps around and they took a lot of photos. You know them, always printing the wrong news," she rolled her eyes. "Well then, Miss Famous, post it on your Instagram, tell them we're not dating," I grumbled. I did want to date her, though.

"Ah, good idea." She opened Instagram and I could hear her long nails clicking against the phone as she furiously typed something out. "Done," she said a minute later.

"What did you write?"

"I had been waiting for news like this. LMAO, I'm not dating @jakegyllenhaal I'm his babysitter," Y/N chuckled. "You wrote that?!" I yelled. Y/N burst out laughing. "Kidding, I wrote assistant, don't worry," she wheezed. I sighed in relief. A few minutes passed by in silence.

All of a sudden, Y/N's stomach started growling. "Shit, sorry," she whispered, blushing furiously. She clutched her stomach. "Hungry?" I chuckled. "Yeah," she sighed. "Wanna stop by, get some food?" She quickly shook her head. "No, we'll be late, then." I frowned.

"It doesn't matter, you do. Come on, tell me where you want to eat," I said and she continued shaking her head. "It's alright. After the shoot we'll catch a snack, for sure," she insisted. I gave up. "Do you at least have snacks in that bag?" "Sure," she mumbled, taking out a toffee. She peeled off the wrapper and ate it. "Did you eat breakfast?" I questioned. "Nah, I was late, remember? Didn't bother," she shrugged.

"Not done, you gotta eat," I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, dad."

We reached the venue and I parked my car at the start of the bridge. The bridge was isolated for the shoot. "Aren't you getting down?" I asked Y/N when she didn't move. "I'm fine," she muttered, looking away. What happened with the sudden mood change? "Okay," I said slowly and closed the door after getting out. I kept the AC running for Y/N. Jessie was on the bridge, waiting. "Oh, hey, Jake! Ready?" I gave her a small smile. "Sure." She walked away and I leaned against the railing, sighing.

"Everything alright?" I heard and turned to look at the guy working on the lights. "Yeah, I'm fine," I told him and he nodded. "Alright, huge smile!" Jessie called out from a few feet away, holding the camera up. I managed a smile. Jessie was about to click the photo when she frowned. "Come on, man, not genuine. What's up?" Ignoring her question, I gave a broader smile. She simply lowered the camera, staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

"We need authentic smiles, Jake. Do you want to shoot a little later when your mood is better?" Jessie asked softly, walking towards me. "Please! How about 2 hours later?" I sighed, relieved. "It's Y/N, isn't it?" I stared at her, shocked.

She only gave me a knowing smile. "I'm just like you, Jake. When my girlfriend is unhappy, my mood changes as well. Go make her feel better, then return when you're done," Jessie chuckled, patting my arm. I nodded and started walking away. I didn't even have the heart to correct her about the whole 'girlfriend' thing.

"Also, what happened? Did you two get in a fight?" I turned around to face Jessie. "No, I… I found out Y/N did not eat breakfast and she was really hungry… but she refused to eat because I would be late to this shoot. She doesn't care a lot about herself because of me. I feel… guilty," I explained in a tired voice, rubbing the back of my neck. "Well then, I would definitely suggest feeding her first if it would make you feel better," she laughed. I gave her a small smile and walked towards my car.

When I reached, my eyes widened. "Y/N, what the fuck, what happened? Why are you crying?" I hastily opened the door and sat in the driver's seat. She sniffled and wiped her tears. "I'm fine, it's just… whenever I'm super hungry I get all moody and sad because my stomach hurts and- Wait, are you done with the shoot already?" she questioned, confused. "No, we postponed it, we're up 2 hours later." I started the car. "What- Where are we going, Jake?" she asked as I drove to the nearest fast food restaurant.

"We gotta put some food in that belly."

Y/N chuckled and I felt a hand on my thigh. "Thank you," she whispered, laying her head on my shoulder. "It's okay." We fell silent. "Did you postpone the shoot because of me?" Y/N asked quietly a few minutes later. "Yeah. I felt bad that you didn't eat for a long time and I couldn't smile for the photos. Jessie figured out it had something to do with you. She suggested we postpone, actually," I told her truthfully. "You're too sweet."

Y/N pressed a kiss to my cheek and I smiled. We arrived at a McDonald's drive thru. We collected our orders and I drove back to the bridge. I parked the car in the same spot as before and turned to Y/N.

"After you, milady," I smiled, gesturing towards the food. She took off the covering and bit into the burger. "Thank you so much, Jake, you're the best boss one could ask for," she squealed and I chuckled. I took out my phone to quickly check my Instagram while Y/N ate. I wasn't hungry, I didn't order anything for myself. When I heard a giggle, I looked up.

Y/N had sauce all over her lips, pretending it was her lipstick. I opened the camera app and discretely clicked a photo because she looked too cute. With a smile, I returned to Instagram. "Wanna share?" Y/N questioned and I looked back at her. She was holding up the pack of fries.

"Nah, I'm cool. You're the one who should be eating!" I told her. "Come on, man! You bought me two goddamn Big Macs and I was barely able to finish them! Eat this with me!" She shook the pack of fries in front of my face. I sighed and picked out one. We shared the pack of fries.

Y/N was in a much better mood after eating. We had half an hour to kill after eating before we were back on schedule. "So… Y/N, tell me something about yourself." She narrowed her eyes at me. "What?" she deadpanned. "Come on, we've got nothing to do. Talk to me," I whined. "Well… what should I tell you?" she shrugged. "Your favourite things," I smiled.

"The colour red, red roses, winter… the song Happy Now by Zedd…" she said, counting on her fingers.

"That's nice, but I've never heard of the song," I shrugged. "Oh, no? The one that goes you're a world away, somewhere in the crowd, in a foreign place, are you happy now? There's nothing left to say, so I shut my mouth; won't you tell me, babe, are you happy now?" A smile bloomed on my face as Y/N sang. "Sing it for me," I blurted out and she looked at me.

"Okay, let me put on the karaoke." Both of us took out our phones. I opened Camera and kept the video recorder ready.

"Are you recording?" Y/N sighed, putting on the karaoke. "No, I'm on Instagram." Y/N believed my lie and started singing. She sang the first verse and the chorus. After she was done, I ended the video. "That was awesome! People are right, you do have an awesome voice," I told her with a grin. "Great! Your mood has improved, Jake, go for the shoot," Y/N said with a smile. "Only if you come along." Both of us got out of the car.

Jessie was talking to someone but turned as soon as she saw us. "Oh, hey guys! I hope you're fine now," Jessie snorted, looking at me. "I'm fine, honestly," I laughed. "Great! Let's get to work!" The photoshoot was a huge success. I had broad smiles throughout because everytime Jessie clicked a photo, my eyes were on Y/N.

---

"Ya know, Jake, you shouldn't cut your hair."

Y/N and I were back at my place. "What? Why?" I asked, running a hand through my hair. "I think it's a good look on you. I like men with long hair, so when you're like, cuddling, you get to play with their hair," Y/N smiled, not looking up from her phone. I stared at her, a smile on my face. A few seconds later, Y/N looked up, wide eyed, cheeks as red as a tomato.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't- I-" I chuckled and got up from my place on the couch. I sat down on the floor in front of her.

"Jake, what are you doing?" Y/N whispered as I took her hand. "Do whatever you want," I told her, placing her hand on top of my head. I heard a small chuckle and felt her hand combing through my hair, massaging my scalp. "Your hair is so soft," Y/N mumbled.

"Thanks," I chuckled, closing my eyes. This was so soothing; I leaned back, laying my head on her lap. I took my phone in my hand and put on some songs. A song, specifically. All Your Days by Shallou and Emmitt Fenn.

Y/N started singing along. I smiled, I could never get tired listening to her, her voice was absolutely angelic. "Hey, Y/N?" She made a humming noise. "Wanna get coffee later?" I heard her laughing and looked at her. She was grinning at me. "Are you asking me out?" she teased. "Yeah, actually," I whispered, eagerly awaiting her response.

She leaned over and wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a tight hug. "Of course." I smiled, hugging back.

"So, like… have you liked me for a while now?" Y/N questioned a while later. I was sitting next to her now and she was snuggled into my side. "You agreed to be my assistant around 5 years ago, right? I've liked you for the past 3," I answered truthfully and she sat up. She looked at me, an eyebrow raised. "You've lived with your feelings for 3 years now?" she asked loudly.

"The most difficult three years of my life," I joked. "What the hell, Gyllenhaal, you could've just told me," she laughed.

"You've liked me, too?" My jaw dropped. She nodded and I pulled her back in my arms. "If only we were bold enough," I laughed. She opened Camera on her phone. "I'm taking a selfie, join me." She smiled at the camera. That smile turned into a grin when I kissed her cheek. I watched as she opened Instagram, put a long caption and posted the picture.

Alright, paps, you win this one. It wasn't one-sided; turns out, he's interested in me, too. Guess who's going on a date this evening with @jakegyllenhaal?

I laughed when I read the caption. "You're a pro at coming up with Instagram captions," I told her. "You learn from the best," she winked. "Aw, thanks!" I said, touched. "What, no, I was talking about Ryan Reynolds." Y/N burst out laughing as I shoved her, frowning. "I'm kidding, stupid," she laughed, falling back against my chest.

---

A/N: Please ignore typos/mistakes, it’s just a fun, light-hearted fic. Thanks for reading, do like if you enjoyed it! Follow me for more fics, the masterlist is in my description (this reads like a YouTube outro lmaooo)

#jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x y/n #jake gyllenhaal x female reader #jake gyllenhaal characters #quentin beck x reader #mysterio #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 3 years

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here’s 5.7k of the unsinkable 8 during the zombie apocalypse. good for fans of leatin and goodfoe. it’s super unedited and i’m mainly just posting it for fun cause i finished it today. some references to world war z the book for fun, and i used the zombies from that too.

A flash of blonde and Dot’s gun went up, pointed directly at the head of whatever made their way toward her. She had two bullets left, six cigarettes, and the last mini of hard liquor she raided from the motel back in Aquilla.

She’d have to get it in one shot, which would be hard sitting down, with her back to it, half delirious.

She grunted as she pulled herself around, her leg still out in the makeshift splint. The zed crept closer, not going at the usual hobbling pace. It definitely had caught her scent though, maybe it was down a few limbs already.

She cocked her gun, flicking off the safety, keeping her finger off the trigger. She’d wait until she could see the whites of its eyes. Get it in one shot.

The blonde head crept closer and she finally tucked her gun over the rocks, making eye contact with it for the first time.

“Shelby Goodkind?”

“Dot Campbell?”

Shelby stared at her, lowering her own gun and Dot let out a breath of relief.

“Dottie, oh my god, I thought you were one of ‘em.” She put away her gun, Dot doing the same and she ran over. “It’s so good to see ya, what’s wrong?” She looked at the leg, her face paling.

“Ankles broken,” Dottie muttered. “Was gonna treat myself to one last drink,” she gestured at the bottle.

“Oh lord,” Shelby said. “Well that’s no good, I got a place not to far from here I’ve been camping out in. Some first aid stuff too.”

“I can’t give you anything back for it,” Dot said.

“We both know two people are more likely to make it,” Shelby said.

She looked sunburned and hollowed out, a little hungrier than the last time Dot saw her, headed with her family to that military base. She was alone, and desperate, everyone was. Because here was how it went in Texas. You could trust a stranger as far as you could throw ‘em, but you needed people to live. So if you had people, you lived. And Dot was people, or as close to people as Shelby was willing to get. She musta lost a lot to lower her standards so far.

“Alright,” Dot said. “We’re gonna have to go slow and you’re gonna have to carry a lot of shit.”

“No problem,” Shelby beamed.

Back at the camp, an old rusting trailer with some battery Shelby told her she was saving for a rainy day, Shelby re-splinted her, fed and watered her, and they pooled their resources. Twenty-six cigs now, which might get ‘em a few hours in a safe car north, if they wanted it. Or it might get ‘em some food, or a get out of jail free card, depending on the hunger of the people hunting ‘em.

It was late at night when Dot realized she hadn’t even asked yet.

“Family’s gone then?”

“Yeah,” Shelby said. “You?”

“My dad died before this shit show,” Dot said.

“Lucky,” Shelby said. She took a swig from the mini, and passed it over to Dot. “What’s your plan?”

“I heard there was a safer spot near San Antonio,” Dot said. “Running water and shit.”

Shelby shook her head, “Gone, three weeks ago. Heard it on the radio.”

Dot nodded, “What about you?”

“Radio said Hawaii’s better,” Shelby said. “There’s an operation ferrying people there on the west coast. It’s a thousand cigs per person. But there’s work by the dock if you’re willing to do it.”

“Work for you?” Dot asked.

Shelby’s jaw tightened, “I’ll do what I have to do. Lord forgive me.”

Dot sighed, “Sounds like we go west then.”

They hung around in the trailer for three days, pushing the limits of what was safe, and stumbled on to a new place in the area at daybreak on the fourth day. Dot’s ankle wasn’t broken, with the inflatable cast Shelby had in a week or so she’d be something regarding useful, and as long as she didn’t push herself she’d be more than fine.

Spending time with Shelby Goodkind was another story. For one thing, despite the zombie apocalypse, complete destruction of their lives and modern society, the death of her family and everyone in their town, Shelby was still good and kind. She’d clutch at the cross around her neck every time they’d pass a body, and would never touch one, even the ones that were recent and obviously not stripped clean. It made Dot kinda mad, she found five cigs just walking, and she wondered how many Shelby passed off being squeamish.

But Shelby also wasn’t squeamish, wasn’t afraid to take down a zed with a kitchen knife, and with that same hand wipe the gore off Dot all gentle. She called her Dottie, gave her the last blanket, and always volunteered for the first shift so Dot could watch the sunrise. Dot hadn’t been cared for in a long while, hadn’t been around people in even longer. She decided she might love it.

But Shelby was a magnet, always had been, she talked about god’s light long enough that she got Dot believing it all fell on her. It wasn’t a real surprise when she showed up with a stray.

“What the fuck,” Dot said. “Did you kidnap a child?”

“I did not kidnap a child,” Shelby said, picking the girl up with some difficulty and lifting her onto the backseat of the broken down minivan they were holed up in.

“I sent you out to get sunscreen,” Dot said. “How did you come back with a child?”

“She’s our age,” Shelby said. “I think. And listen, I found her barricaded in a utility closet with a bad fever, I knew we had some tablets but I didn’t wanna leave her.”

“Like bite fever?” Dot asked. “We don’t have enough bullets to—”

“No,” Shelby shook her head, “Look,” she gently unwrapped a bandage around the girl’s arm, revealing a bad slice. “It’s infected. Not a bite. We’re okay.”

Dot sighed and nodded. The girl’d probably try and rob ‘em blind but if they watched her hands and got away fast enough they should be fine. They’d be fine.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Dot muttered. Shelby smiled, all sweet and gentle and bright and Dot rolled her eyes.

The girl took the tablets, they washed and changed the bandages, after about fourteen hours she blinked awake, unfortunately while Dot was on watch.

“Who—who are you?”

“Dot Campbell,” she said.

The girl stared at her.

“My friend saved your ass,” Dot said. “Shelby.”

“Um,” the girl inched back, “Why? Where am I?”

“We’re on the twenty-two, not from from the ten-eighty,” Dot told her. “You got a nasty infection there, got any cigs?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

Dot blinked at her. “Alright then.”

“My friends will be looking for me,” the girl said. “I should get back to them.” She didn’t have an accent, Dot realized, not even a thin one like her own.

“Shelby found you around Mr. K’s, we can draw you a map if you’d like,” Dot said. “Where you from?”

“Austin,” the girl lied, badly.

“Alright then,” Dot said again. “Well we’ll draw you a map in the mornin and you can leave a day break. It ain’t far.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. “For helping me.”

“Shelby’s idea,” Dot said. Neither of ‘em slept the whole time, the girl smart enough to keep an eye out, and Dot’s whole job to watch out. She woke Shelby up when she was supposed to and easily muddled into a slumber.

A nice thing, about the zombie apocalypse, was Dot had gotten a lot better at sleeping. She used to stay up for hours thinking ‘bout how she’d pay the bills, how much her dad’s meds cost, whether he was coughing more that night than he did most nights, but now she hit whatever soft looking rock she decided to call a pillow and conked out until Shelby woke her. Shelby, on the other hand, barely slept a wink, shooting up at the slightest sign of trouble, even when Dot was on watch. Too much time on her own, Dot’d guess.

Before Shelby Mateo wandered with Dot. He was quiet and sweet and she had took care of him as best she could. Shelby didn’t have nobody before Dot. Just her dead parents, and if Dot remembered eighth grade soccer well enough, a couple of dead siblings too.

So Dot pretty much conked out and missed the way the girl and Shelby giggled all night. But even she wasn’t blind to their bond when she woke, the way the girls smiled easily at one another, laughed with each other, kept up with each other.

“Dottie,” Shelby said. “Martha,” so that was the stranger’s name “said you told her we could draw her a map but Mr. K’s ain’t far, we might as well take her.”

Dot grunted, she didn’t wanna waste a day but it wasn’t like Mr. K’s would take all day and they might as well see if they could find any more cigs. She hadn’t met any non-smokers in a long while. Apocalypse sorta took the fun out of being straight-edge, if Dot had to guess.

Dot took the back, a metal bat out and ready, and Shelby and Martha took the front. Shelby had a makeshift spear made, good for longer range, but worse up close, and she gave Martha the other bat they had. To borrow, Dot had emphasized.

One of the other things that never got old about the apocalypse, was walking up a highway. Walking straight up that middle line, knowing no one would dare drive a car ‘round there. It felt like the world was yours and empty, like you were finding it, rebuilding it, building it. It was as close to a cowboy as she had felt since her daddy let her ride on his back. It was as close to free as she had ever felt.

They got back to Mr. K’s and Dot saw the approaching figures first, aiming her rifle right at ‘em, safety off and gun cocked, but her finger off the trigger. It was Shelby’s hunting rifle, actually, but she had handed it to Dot first chance she had, looking kinda pale. She had Dot’s old handgun now, useless with this kinda range.

“Live ones?” Shelby asked.

“Can’t tell,” Dot said. “Just kinda standing there.”

“They could be waiting for me,” Martha said. Dot glanced at her, hoping the girl wasn’t actually as naive as she seemed. She probably was.

They walked as close as they dared, before Martha was able to confirm that yes it was her friends.

She ran at ‘em and one of ‘em collided with her, slamming her into a hug. There were two more, just kinda watching Dot and Shelby.

“We should go,” Dot said. “We did what we said.”

“Dottie,” Shelby said.

Dot sighed and the two of ‘em trudged up to the happy pair, reuniting like they had been separated for years, decades, instead of a few hours. It was a miracle they were reunited at all, Mateo said he’d meet her back at the camp in an hour and she had to bash his head in six months later with a sledge hammer.

“Who’re your friends, Martha?” One of the other people asked. It was four girls counting Martha, lucky, none of ‘em white, but they all looked around the same age as Dot and Shelby.

“This is Shelby,” Martha grinned, “And Dot.”

Dot nodded at them.

“I am just so pleased to make your acquaintance,” Shelby smiled, holding out her hand to the girl who still had an arm wrapped around Martha.

“This is Toni,” Martha said, squeezing the girl’s side when she didn’t take Shelby’s hand. “And Rachel and Nora.”

“Ah,” Shelby smiled, “Toni your sister right?”

Martha nodded, Toni glared. “Yeah it’s great to meet you or whatever. There a reason you kidnapped Martha?”

“I saw her passed out and worried she was alone,” Shelby explained. “I knew we had some tablets back at the camp but—”

“What do you want?” Rachel asked. “We got about six hundred if that’s—” Martha from Austin, Dot’s ass. Money hadn’t meant shit in Texas for awhile. These kids were from up north, probably pretty far up north too. Maine or some shit. Delaware.

“Got any cigs?” Dot asked.

“Yes,” Nora said. “We have a couple packs.”

“Great,” Dot held out her hands and two packs were dropped into them. Nora didn’t make eye contact the entire time, her hands fidgeting with anything. She was covered in scabs and scars, picking at her own skin probably.

“Where y’all headed?” Shelby asked.

“None of your business,” Toni said.

“Apparently the San Antonio Zone relocated to Tyler,” Martha said. “We heard some people talking about it last week.”

“Y’all got a radio?” Dot asked.

Martha shook her head.

“If you had one you’d know that that’s what they’re pulling now, telling people to go to Tyler, they shoot you as soon as you step foot in Athens.”

“So where are you guys headed?” Rachel demanded.

“West,” Shelby said. “Radio says they’re ferrying clean folks to Hawaii. It’s an island so.”

“Clean how?” Rachel asked, taking a step forward and lifting her jaw.

Dot sighed.

Shelby’s eyes widened, “Clean as in not infected, I mean.”

“Chill,” Rachel smiled, all thin, “I was kidding.”

“Great,” Dot said. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but we should be going.”

“Wait,” Martha said. “It’s just, we might as well go west too. And we might as well go west together.”

“Marty,” Toni grabbed her by her uninjured arm, “I wanna talk to you for a moment.”

They got into a whispered argument for a few minutes. Rachel joined and it escalated but Martha came out on top, smiling as she approached them.

“We might as well go together,” she repeated.

Shelby’s smile was just as wide, “We would be alighted to have you.”

The new girls were a nightmare. Rachel and Nora, sisters as Dot would learn, hated one another. And by hated Dot meant, had a complicated relationship of love without trust or mutual respect. Nora didn’t trust Rachel, Rachel didn’t respect Nora, and they were constantly going at one another. Toni had some sorta toxic jealousy thing going on, despising Shelby because she was monopolizing Martha. She also tended to fly into these rages, making her wander off for long periods that had Dot itching to grab her gun and demanding the girl strip to check for bites. Mateo’s dad used to do the same thing, wander off to check his bite.

Shelby also was wholly focused on two things now: Martha, and Toni’s hate. Dot ambled along behind all of ‘em, keeping the sisters from killing each other, Toni’s voice down, and everyone else alive.

The worst part was it took Dot nearly three days before she caught sight of it.

“You have one hand,” Dot glared at Rachel. Rachel slung the pack over her shoulder.

“You’re just noticing that now?” Rachel asked. “I must be getting better with it.”

“The fuck happened?” Dot said.

“My hand got bit,” Rachel shrugged. “Cut it off before it spread, didn’t even know it would work.”

Dot whistled, low and quiet, like they were all used to being.

“I cut it off,” Nora corrected, sullenly.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I’m still quicker on the draw than you,” Rachel said, the words clunky in her mouth.

Dot set her jaw, “So y’all are sticking with the story that you’re from Austin?”

“We’re from New York,” Nora said. Rachel glared at her. “What? You think some group would waste three days on four teenage girls?”

“New York?” Dot asked. “Everyone knows it’s safer up north, why the hell are you down here?”

“You hear about Yonkers?” Rachel asked.

Dot shook her head.

“It was the last op the US military set up before they fell apart. We’d made it out by then but we watched it happen on the news. Someone in a group we had still had a phone and the whole thing was live streamed. All of the death. The group were supposed to go to some military bases up in Canada but we wanted a wide open space with plenty of guns.”

“Texas,” Dot said.

Rachel nodded.

“Stupid,” Dot told her. “You probably came for San Antonio too.”

Rachel sighed, “Nobody was gonna survive those Canadian winters without a base, and we weren’t sure we were gonna get one. Rather get bit than freeze.”

“How’d you meet Toni and Martha?” Dot asked.

“Toni and I got into a fistfight over some Takis,” Rachel said.

Dot nodded, “Fuego?”

“Fuego.”

And yeah they were a nightmare but quicker than Dot wanted they became her nightmare. Still though, she dragged Shelby away from Martha and Toni’s sides, and muttered, “we can still go. Ditch if you want. Whenever. We don’t know ‘em.”

Shelby, in high school, woulda been scandalized, muttered some bible passage at her. This Shelby was a little more grown and only looked at her all serious.

“You knew what I was when you picked me up,” she said. “And I knew what Martha was. We’ll face our consequences, I reckon.”

Dot nodded.

Walking all day, everyday, wasn’t easy stuff. Especially since they had to strip as many bodies as they could find. Nora figured it out pretty quick, mumbling something to Rachel who recruited Toni to storm over to Dot.

“You don’t smoke them, but you’re hoarding them,” Rachel said. “Why?”

Dot kept her easy pace. “These things are currency now, the value’ll only go up over time.”

“Currency for what?” Toni asked. “What are you trying to buy?”

“You think a ferry to Hawaii is free?” Dot asked. “I’m saving for all of us.”

“Dottie,” Shelby walked over, Martha sticking by Nora, “What’s up?”

“How much?” Toni asked. “Really, how much?”

“A hundred each,” Dot said, too quickly.

“Try again,” Rachel said.

“Dot,” Shelby got between them, looking at Dot. “Thou shalt not lie, right? Tell ‘em the truth.” Dot glared at her and Shelby turned back around to Rachel. “It’s five hundred each. We got about a hundred now, so no one’s going to Hawaii.”

“What if there aren’t enough?” Toni asked. “Who decides then?”

“We’ll draw straws,” Shelby said.

It was as easy a solution as anything but the tenseness started building up, Rachel and Toni viewing Dot with more suspicion. It’d fade, over time, Dot knew. Or they’d all die.

The worst it got, was actually Shelby’s doing, the easy peace maker of it all. They hadn’t bothered building a fire, despite how cold and exposed it got in Texas at night, but they huddled together between three cars they found abandoned along the highway that they pushed into a triangle. Someone got to the seat cushions of all three first, so there was nothing comfortable to lie their heads on. It was easy for Dot though, the asphalt as soft as anything to her now.

They stayed up later than they should’ve talking. Trading stories about their old life that all of them knew weren’t doing any good. Toni played basketball, was pretty good at it too. Rachel had a skill for swimming she’d never have again. Nora did quiz bowl, surprising no one. Dot talked about metal, fishing with her dad, what types of pills sold for what. Martha was a dancer, and a vegetarian once. It was something that made ‘em all crack up. When humans become man eating beasts, and once upon a time there were jokes online about vegans. Shelby talked about the yearbook, mission trips, Andrew.

But then cause Shelby started it by prattling on about Andrew Toni got it in her head to talk about Regan and Shelby was talking about Leviticus.

The next morning, Rachel quietly pulled Dot aside and told her to take all the cigarettes and head out. That they could make their own way west. Dot didn’t ask for an invitation to go with her.

They split off at the twenty-five, Dot and Shelby heading for the forty, Toni, Martha, Rachel, and Nora heading for the sixty.

Shelby was heartbroken for a few days, apologetic too, and grateful. Dot didn’t let her have any of that, only said, “It’s cause we’re from the same town. We might be the only ones from there left.”

They trudged on.

In Arizona Dot found the love of her life, her soulmate, Fatin Jadmani. In a completely straight way too. Fatin matched her tit for tat, spoke a language Dot hadn’t realized she’d been born knowing. Her girlfriend was an anxious woman named Leah, who Shelby got on with. Dot had worried, upon bringing the two back to camp, that Shelby would chase ‘em away again, but she hadn’t. Just smiled at the two of them, easily offering up a couple granola bars.

Whenever tenseness came about Fatin just laughed, and Leah rolled her eyes. It wasn’t perfect, Dot knew, there was too much hate for that, but it would last ‘em long enough. The four of ‘em just worked in this great lovely way.

Only problem was their destination.

“We barely managed to get out of LA,” Leah mumbled, she hugged her legs, her head leaning on Fatin’s shoulder.

“LA?” Shelby asked. “That’s where we’re headed.”

“What the fuck?” Fatin glared at Dot, “Dorthy I thought you had more sense than that.”

“There’s some military guys ferrying people to Hawaii,” Dot said.

“Where’d you hear that, the radio?” Fatin asked. She sighed at their nods, “They’re broadcasting out to whoever will hear it, but there is no ferry to Hawaii. The entire thing is just selling and shipping as many girls out as possible. We have no idea where though.”

“So when you say you barely made it out,” Dot said.

Fatin’s face was grim.

“We have to warn ‘em,” Shelby said.

“Warn who?” Dot asked.

“Toni and the others! They don’t know!” Shelby stood up. “I’ll plot out the course now and we’ll start out fresh tomorrow. We aren’t leaving ‘em to—to—we aren’t leaving ‘em.” She stormed off and Dot watched her go.

“She wants to go towards LA to help some motherfuckers who kicked you out of their group?” Fatin asked.

“Yeah,” Dot said.

“Are you gonna go with her?” Leah asked.

“I knew what she was when I picked her up,” Dot said.

“What do you wanna do?” Leah asked Fatin.

Fatin pressed her cheek to Leah’s head, “I don’t know if I can risk you.” Fatin looked at Dot, “Are you gonna be stupid?”

“No,” Dot said.

“Then we’ll come,” Fatin sighed. “Leah that okay?” Leah nodded.

Neither of ‘em were as good at offing zed as Shelby and Dot. Fatin was decent at finding stuff though, scoping stuff, and Leah had endurance none of the rest of ‘em could match. She was like a zed sometimes, just kept going, could keep going, until her knees wore down to dust and then she’d crawl, crawl until her fingers wore down to nubs and then she’d inch, inch until something put her out of her misery. It terrified Fatin and Shelby, but Dot couldn’t help being impressed.

So Dot ambled after Shelby toward Bethlehem on the forty but they were gonna leap back on the interstate and hopefully head ‘em off. Hopefully Martha, Toni, Rachel, and Nora’d be alive, and they’d find ‘em. And if they didn’t find ‘em, hopefully they’d be dead. And Shelby stopped sleeping about a day or two into trek. Would just keep staring at the maps and keeping watch, and taking inventory and thumbing around her necklace.

When Dot woke up on the third day of their walk, Shelby’s hair was much shorter and Fatin looked real scared. Shelby kept walking and walking and, in a fit of rage that matched Toni’s, launched her necklace off the highway. She looked like she regretted it after but they had no choice but to keep going.

They passed an arm and it looked like Rachel’s.

Shelby walked faster. Leah had that glint in her eye. Fatin took Dot’s hand and looked very very scared.

After two more days Shelby said fuck it, and found a car with some gas in it and told 'em to get in.

Dot stood in front, “Shelby,” Shelby glared at her, “This’ll attract every body in the fucking country. The sound, the smell, I’m not just talking about the dead ones neither.”

Shelby swallowed hard, “You gonna stay behind then?”

“Shelby,” Dot said. “If you leave me here I’ll get caught up in the hoard. That what you want?”

“Get in the damn car, Dottie!” Shelby said.

“If we get to ‘em in time, but there’s a fucking hoard following us, we won’t have anywhere to go but on,” Dot said. “Fucking think!”

“I am thinking,” Shelby spat back. She shoved Dot, “I’m thinking about Toni, and Martha walking from Minnesota to Texas only to die in California. I’m thinking about Nora and Rachel watching Yonkers fall and then getting shipped off to who knows where. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Shelby we can make it,” Leah said.

“No we can’t!” Shelby said. “I’ve done the math, I keep looking at these maps, there’s no way we’ll make it in time without a mode of transportation. No car and they die.”

“Then what the fuck are we going there?” Dot asked. “If it’s too late—”

“It is not too late!” Shelby said, her throat was all closed and choked sounding. “I can save ‘em! Jesus fuckin Christ we have to help ‘em!”

“Shelby,” Dot said, she put a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t take a car, and we can’t make it by foot,” Shelby’s face crumpled. “They’re gone, alright? We should be planning our next move.”

“No,” Leah said. She shook her head, “We have to help them.”

“You don’t even know ‘em,” Dot said.

“I’m not letting four innocent girls go through what I nearly went through,” Leah said.

“I’m with Leah,” Fatin said. “We’ll take the car and play it by ear.”

“Play the-hoard-that-will-start-coming-after-us-the-second-we-turn-on-the-engine by ear?” Dot asked.

“Let’s vote,” Shelby said. “All in favor of going?”

Fatin, Leah, and Shelby all raised their hands.

“C’mon,” Dot begged. She looked at Fatin, “You told me not to be stupid!”

“So don’t be stupid,” Fatin said. “Get in the car.”

Dot sighed, wanted to punch something, wanted to cry, was too tired to do either, got in the car.

The car attracted so many fucking zed, they wouldn’t be able to stop, and they had to hope there was enough in the fucking tank to get them to wherever the four were. Dot watched the dead bodies creep closer, at their slow hobbling, relentless pace. Fatin drove, Shelby used her pike to spear any who got too close, Dot watched the maps and steadily got herself into a panic.

They were gonna die trying to save the asses of some girls they spent a couple days with.

This was not what Shelby was when Dot picked her up, this was not what she was. Shelby had gone behind Dot’s back and fucking grown as a person, hadn’t she? How the fuck was Dot gonna get away from her? She’d have to pack Fatin in a suitcase and then Leah too and that would mean entirely abandoning Shelby to be on her lonesome oh god.

Dot was stuck, wasn’t she.

As they kept driving Shelby had to keep spearing zed. It started off as one or two, but as the hours wore on they were leaning on five, six, a steady growing mass ambling behind ‘em.

If that had really been Rachel’s arm, they were probably dead. All of ‘em. Or maybe in the mass behind ‘em. And if they weren’t, they’d hear the car coming and head for the hills, assuming it meant a hoard was close behind. Which it was.

This was such a fucking terrible idea.

“So what, we just wait for a sign to say welcome to LA and then give up? We won’t find ‘em like this,” Dot said.

“Shut up!” Shelby said, she speared another.

“At least check you ain’t offing one of ours,” Dot said. “They could all be zed, for all we know.”

“I said shut up,” Shelby turned to glare at her and a zed slammed against the door. She speared it and Dot’s mouth clamped shut. “We just gotta keep going,” she said. “We’ll be fine, we just gotta keep moving.”

“You’re crazy,” Dot said.

Shelby didn’t have anything to say to that.

It was worse at nightfall, with visibility down, and they just had to keep going, to hope their car wasn’t stripped when they went over the bumps of mutilated corpses still hungry for a last meal.

“We’re almost to LA,” Shelby said. “We got nearly a hundred cigs, we might be able to bribe someone if they jump us.”

Leah snorted.

They were driving through an empty enough part of Nevada though, less corpses hurling themselves off the road and towards them. Still the ever growing mass behind ‘em now, maybe fifty, seventy five, but about twenty out.

“I gotta piss,” Dot said.

“Hurry,” Fatin said.

Dot stumbled out, no one noticing her grabbing her pack. The zed would follow the car, she’d make a clean break. She’d survive.

She was only seven minutes south, judging by the north star Shelby taught her to find when someone’s hand grabbed her. She pulled out her hand gun, jamming it into the head and flicking the safety off.

“Dot! Jesus Christ!”

The girl was wide-eyed, tan, hollowed out, empty and desperate. Reminded her of the empty pill bottles around her house after her dad died.

“Toni?”

Toni nodded, “Why are you here? Fuck that I don’t give a shit, you got water?” Dot handed it to her and Toni downed it. “The other’s are close, c’mon.” She stumbled as she got up, clearly dizzy, and Dot grabbed her forearm.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you guys,” Dot said.

“Don’t tell me it’s you in the fucking car,” Toni said. “We’ve been running from that thing for ages.”

“I fucking told Shelby,” Dot said.

“Shelby?” Toni asked, she was almost too exhausted to sound disgusted, but she managed it.

“Listen, LA isn’t safe, we found out. They’re not taking kids to Hawaii, they’re taking them.”

Toni went pale, “Fuck.” She even sounded choked now. “Shelby’s having a fucking aneurysm worrying about you so I don’t even think she’s that fucking homophobic. I’ll get everyone back to the car, you tell ‘em I’m coming.”

Toni nodded, stumbling towards the street and Dot walked back to the direction Toni pointed to before she left. Rachel, Nora, and Martha were all in various points of disarray. Exhausted, dehydrated, starving, aching and bleeding. Dot had to half carry, half drag Nora with Martha and Rachel had to get a stick to lean on as they stumbled toward the street.

“We got like ten minutes,” Fatin said. “People are gonna have to double buckle, and before anyone else makes a decision, we’re going north.”

Dot strapped everyone in and found herself sitting next to Shelby who met her eyes in a hundred yard stare.

“You took your pack.”

“Yeah.”

“But you came back.”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

They started on again. Dot saw Toni keep sneaking glances at Shelby and Shelby kept sneaking ‘em back.

They weren’t far from Mt. Tobin when the two finally stopped dancing around each other.

Dot convinced everyone to ditch the car near LA, walking as quickly as they could once they did, knowing it’d take awhile to ditch the hoard too. Dot watched Toni talk to Shelby in low tones, Shelby full of apologies and panics and Toni keeping her cool longer than Dot had ever seen it.

Martha took to Fatin quickly, everyone did, and Nora and Leah spent long hours walking beside each other mumbling about books or something. Not anything Dot gave two shits about.

Rachel ambled along with Dot most of the time. Whenever Fatin and Leah were all over each other and Dot didn’t feel like third wheeling. Rachel was always listening to the radio and as time passed it became clear that the two of them were the most capable of keeping everyone alive. And not in a more knowledgable way. Because Nora knew what plants were edible, and Shelby was a better shot. Or in an emotional way, because Fatin and Martha handled that. But in a planning sorta way. Because Dot knew how to get them to point B, while Rachel was working on point E.

“We should go to Washington,” Rachel muttered on one of the late nights they spent keeping watch while they poured over maps. “We might be able to find a boat to Victoria.”

“Victoria?” Rachel pointed her out.

“It’s a Canadian island. Canada lasted a little longer than we did, Victoria might not be in such a bad way.”

“Less guns in Canada,” Dot said. “And there might not be a boat that’ll take us there. Plus, we don’t know the currency.”

“We’re eight teenage girls,” Rachel pointed out. “We stick around so close to Cali, we’re asking for trouble. We need to put an ocean between us and whatever the fuck they’re doing there.”

Dot sighed. So they’d go to Washington.

On the way they’d probably run into another group who’d tell them Washington was overrun but there was something decent in Wisconsin. Half way to Wisconsin someone would tell ‘em their information was bad and they need to get south where there were guns and space. They’d almost be in Georgia when someone would tell ‘em there was some real government up in New York again.

They’d follow pipe dream to pipe dream to pipe dream. They’d probably die young.

Toni curled around Shelby, holding Martha’s hand. Fatin and Leah held on for dear life. Rachel didn’t take her eyes off Nora. Dot watched them all.

Yeah they’d probably die young. Better than dying alone.

#gus writes #the wilds #the wilds fanfic #goodfoe fanfic #shoni #leatin fanfic #leatin #dot campbell #leah rilke #fatin jadmani #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #rachel reid #nora reid #martha blackburn #the unsinkable 8 #the unsinkable eight

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

2:15

You sneak back in the house after breaking a promise to your brother, Tom, and have a hard conversation.

“Promise me you won’t be too late?” Your brother asked as you got out of his car. He was going off to another pub quiz, while he was dropping you off at a party at a friend’s house. You rolled your eyes, pulling your dress down. He’d already covered for you so your parents wouldn’t see how short it was, and he was letting you stay the night at his house so you didn’t have to sneak back in and wake up the rest of the family. He was doing you a favor, really.

“I promise, Tommy,” you groaned in response, shutting the door to the car and stepping out onto the curb.

“Remember I have Life 360!” He called out to you, rolling down the window, before he pulled away from the curb. You looked down to see that your phone was fully charged, even though the battery would probably die within a couple of hours, and the app was going in the background. Your parents didn’t really care to see your every move, so it was just you and your brothers on the app. Despite being only fourteen months older than you, Tom was extremely over-protective. Extremely. He was your best friend, sure, but he was also your worst nightmare sometimes. You’d already decided that if you needed help that night you’d call one of the twins because only one of them would answer you, and you had so many things over them that there was no way they’d rat you out to your parents.

You walked into the house to find your friends, going right to the drink table. Your friend Alyssa was getting a drink, your friend Alex tending the bar, and for the most part you were able to let go. You didn’t go to parties often – you were usually traveling with Tom if you weren’t at home doing university online, so it had been a while since you’d seen your friends. And you were leaving again tomorrow night to go Los Angeles with Tom and Harrison for three months, so you wanted a chance to see all of your friends again. You watched your drinks to make sure nobody touched them, even pouring it out before you went out to the bathroom, and you thankfully didn’t get spiked. You had to fight off a few boys, and then another one just went ahead and left anyway when your phone lit up to show a picture of you, your brothers, and Harrison along with Tessa. The fact that you had so many male family members often freaked boys out, and this time you were able to use it to your advantage.

“Ugh, I think I’m heading out,” you said finally, realizing your phone was on ten percent. Tom had texted you already, multiple times, saying you’d better be home soon, and you’d been hanging out by the drink table anyway. You weren’t completely intoxicated, but you knew your limits and you had laundry to start, too.

“Take my jacket,” Alex said, grabbing onto your arm, handing you his suede jacket. Alex was one of your best friends, and had been for years, and you had a thing going on that you both wouldn’t admit that you liked each other, so you were stuck doing meaningless gestures until someone made a move, which would probably be never. Still, though, you were thankful.

“Thank you, it’s freezing out there,” you said as you shrugged the jacket on, then grabbed onto your straightened hair to pull it from where it was underneath the heavy jacket.

“Text me when you get home, too.”

“Yeah, if Tom ever lets me go. I know he’s going to yell because it’s so late.”

“Oh, fuck that. He’s your brother, not your dad.” You scoffed, pressing the button on your phone to call an Uber.

“You’d be surprised. He’s the one that set my curfew in the first place.” Alex laughed, not even realizing that it was true, and you said goodbye before heading out to the front porch to wait on a car. You hopped in after checking the license plate, but asked the driver to drop you off a block away from Tom’s house. You could see that the lights were off, except for the string lights in the room you usually stayed in, and sighed. Tom must already be asleep. Good. You didn’t want to face his wrath for coming home at two in the morning, even though you were above age and could take care of yourself.

“Thank you,” you said to the driver, giving him a smile, and you looked around before opening and shutting the gate to the backyard as quietly as you could. The front door would be too loud, and the back door was quieter because it slid open instead of pulled open. The only motion sensing light was in the front, too, and you’d managed to avoid it. It wasn’t the first time you’d snuck into the house, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

You took off your high heels so they wouldn’t click against the tile floor and slid the door open, slipping inside, and then you shut it and locked it. The downstairs was completely dark, thankfully, and you walked over to the carpeted living room and put your shoes down. Your phone was dead, so you couldn’t see that Tom had texted you frantically, wondering why you weren’t answering. You also couldn’t see where he’d texted you that he was waiting for you.

“Well, look who’s finally home,” you heard a voice say. Tom’s. You rolled your eyes and tried to pretend like you weren’t a tiny bit drunk, watching as he sat up from where he was on the couch.

“Didn’t see you there, scrawny,” you responded. “I’m home, you can call off the search party.”

“You said you’d be home at midnight. It’s two fifteen.” You scoffed and started climbing the stairs, where he climbed after you. “Y/n.”

“Tom, it’s fine, I’m home,” you said, now just completely annoyed. “I’m going to change clothes.” You went into your room and grabbed a t-shirt that had once belonged to Harry that you’d cropped to look cute and a pair of shorts, changing out of your slinky party dress. You walked into the bathroom that had two doors only to find that the light was already on, and it shocked you a little bit. There were dots in your eyes, but you could easily see that Tom was standing there by the vanity, arms crossed, looking angry at you. You just didn’t pay attention to him and started wiping off your makeup and brushing through your hair. You could tell that he was mad, and eventually you just sighed, eyeing your toothbrush that you’d have to get past him for.

“Can I have my toothbrush?” You asked.

“No. Not until you talk to me.”

“There is nothing to talk about. Stop being an asshole. I’m allowed to go out and have fun, you do all the time. So stop…”

“No,” he said again, like it was completely obvious that it was his answer. “I’m not being an asshole, I’m trying to protect you.”

“Tom, it’s fine. I know how to watch my drinks, I know how to check license plates, I know…”

“You have to come home when you say you’re coming home. It freaks me out, alright? Especially when your phone dies.”

“Well then buy me a new one.” He scoffed. You started taking your contacts out, hoping that the conversation was over, but you slid your glasses on to see that he wasn’t done. “I appreciate you trying to protect me, but I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” Your voice was raised slightly, and you lowered it when you realized that the twins were sleeping in the next room.

“I’m saying that something could happen to you and I wouldn’t even know. You’re my little sister and you’re my best friend and I’m scared to lose you. As soon as I turned on the news tonight it was about some girl going missing after a party. And her parents only knew because she didn’t come home when she said she was going to.” You tried to understand where Tom was coming from. Not once had you worried for his safety walking the streets, ever. You never feared for him when he and the boys got into cabs drunk, or wandered around foreign cities at the same time you’d just come home. You’d never worried for him, ever. And you understood why he would worry about you, and you sighed. You shifted your feet, looking down at the floor.

“You need to trust me, Tom.”

“I try to, and I do. I just don’t trust other people.” You looked up at him to see that he was completely serious. He actually did look a little scared. And the fact that you hadn’t answered your phone would’ve freaked you out, too, because you two had a rule to always answer, no matter how angry you are at each other.

“I’ll try to be better about answering, okay? I was just having fun and I was drunk and I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“It shouldn’t be a big deal, but it is. I’m sorry if you thought I was just being an ass to be an ass.” You let go of the arms that were crossed across your chest and stood on your toes, giving him a hug. He hugged you back, a little tighter than he usually did.

“I’m home. So you don’t need to worry, okay? At least not tonight.” You let go of him and stood back on your toes. “Can I go to bed now?” Tom smiled at you a little bit.

“Yeah. Lecture over, I guess.” He followed you back out to your room, and before he shut the door, he turned back to look at you. “Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night, Tom.”

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, send me a message!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

#tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine

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darkstar6782 · 3 years

Text

Fade to Black - 1.17: Hell House

1991

They’re on their way back from school when Dean finds a five dollar bill in a gutter less than a block down from the local candy store. Without a second thought, he grabs Sam’s hand and drags him inside. “Get whatever you want, Sam.” But two weeks ago, Sam had listened to a dentist that had come into their classroom to talk to them about taking care of their teeth, and he had been very clear about how bad candy was for them, so while Dean is filling a bag with a scoop from every bin along the wall, Sam goes to look at the toys instead.

“Dean, what’s a whoopee cushion?”

“Oh, man, Sammy, those are great! How have you never heard of one before? You want that instead of candy?” Sam nods. Dean pays and gives Sam the fifteen cents in change since his new toy didn’t cost as much as Dean’s candy, and on the way home, he promises to show Sam exactly how it works. “You’re gonna love it, Sam. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

That night, when Dad comes home, dinner is already on the table, and both boys are sitting and waiting for him. As soon as he sits down, a loud “phtbbt” noise emanates from his chair. Sam’s eyes go wide, Dean bursts out laughing, and with a grin, Dad pulls the now-deflated red rubber bag out from underneath him.

For a month after that, no seat is safe from the wrath of the whoopee cushion. They make a rule that the prank’s latest victim takes possession of the toy, but after a while, Sam begins to suspect that Dean is sneaking it out of Dad’s luggage whenever Dad confiscates it, because he manages to prank everyone else a lot more often than he himself gets pranked. When it shows up one day with a knife slash through it, ensuring that it can never inflate again, it’s no big loss, though. Dad apologizes, saying that he accidentally stuck it in the weapons bag, but Sam notices that he doesn’t promise to replace it.

1997

It starts with a toothbrush.

Sam gets a new one from some health fair at school that Dean ditched. He could have picked up two—no one would have cared—but he didn’t even think about his brother, which annoys Dean to no end. So, every chance he gets, he uses Sam’s new toothbrush instead of his own.

It takes a week for Sam to catch on, but one morning, when Dean goes into the bathroom, Sam’s toothbrush is nowhere to be seen, and Dean’s toothbrush has been shoved bristles-first into a bar of soap. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or get pissed as he tosses the old toothbrush and the soap into the trash and uses a finger to spread toothpaste over his teeth. The little squirt has more guts than Dean had given him credit for. But Dean can’t let this challenge go unanswered.

Two days later, Sam discovers that someone put an open bottle of hand lotion from the bathroom in the bottom of his duffel, soaking all of his clean underwear in flowery-smelling goop. The next morning, Dean wakes up to find all of his clothes sitting in the bathtub, soaking wet. Sam’s toothpaste gets replaced with shaving cream; Dean’s razor turns dull overnight and all the extra blades go missing. Finally, Dean hits on the ultimate prank: he mixes Nair into Sam’s shampoo. When his brother comes out of the shower the next day screaming with rage and looking like he has a bad case of mange, Dean laughs his ass off, and gets a black eye for his trouble. Despite being a skinny little twerp, the kid can really pack a punch when he catches Dean off-guard.

The next day, Dean is bracing himself for a truly heinous act of revenge as he follows a silent and now completely bald Sam to school. The poor kid doesn’t look angry anymore, though; he just looks miserable, bundled up in a hoodie despite the near-summer heat. At lunchtime, Dean catches a couple kids harassing Sam, making fun of his bald head, and he realizes that he’s gone too far this time. It’s one thing to cause each other discomfort, but when one of their pranks makes the other a target for outsiders… Dean’s more angry at himself than the punks harassing his brother, but he takes it out on them and gets both himself and Sam suspended for a week.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Dean says that night as they’re lounging in front of the TV, eating all of Sam’s favorite foods and trying to figure out how to explain Sam’s bald head and the suspension to Dad when he comes home in a few days. “Things got a little out of hand this time, I guess. Truce?”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “You kinda made up for it by fixing it so I don’t have to go back to school for a week. Hopefully we can pass it off to Dad as a really bad haircut; you know he’s been bugging me to get one for months, anyway.” Then, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a brand new toothbrush. He tosses it to Dean, Dean grins, and in the wrestling match over the last of the gummy worms five minutes later, all is forgiven.

2000

“C’mon, Sam, lighten up! It was just a joke.”

“It’s not very funny, Dean.” Sam is sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, picking flakes of superglue off of the palm of his hand. Three days ago, Dean had caught Sam talking on the phone to Linda Hamilton, a girl he’d gone on a few dates with in the last town they’d been in, and ever since, Dean had been insufferable. It started with the offers for tips on how to give good phone sex, then boxes of tissues and bottles of lotion left out in strategic locations, and had culminated in him waking up this morning to discover that Dean had covered the palm of his right hand in hair and superglue.

“I’m telling you, Sammy, you got off lucky. I hear doing that sorta thing too often can also make you go blind.”

Sam glares at him and returns to his task. Fortunately, it’s summertime, so he doesn’t have to worry about explaining the mess on his palm to anyone at school, but he continues to give Dean the silent treatment until his brother drops him off at the library to finish researching the ghost that they’re hunting this week. Sam walks through the library’s front doors, waits until the rumble of the Impala’s engine has died away, then turns around and heads back outside. He’d discovered all he needed to know about the ghost yesterday, but hasn’t told Dean yet, partly out of anger at his brother’s harassment, but mostly because Dean hasn’t asked. As long as Dean thinks Sam is busy, Sam knows where he’ll be, and after this morning’s humiliation, he deserves everything that he has coming to him.

Sam takes his time walking across town and gets to the bar that Dean has been frequenting every day over the last week just in time to see him heading out the front door with a girl on his arm. Sam crouches behind a dumpster and watches as they get into the Impala and drive a few blocks down to the girl’s house. Once they’re inside and, presumably, preoccupied, Sam sneaks up to the car and gets to work. He disconnects the battery and moves the front seat up just far enough to keep Dean from being able to easily get into the car, then he pulls out his cellphone and places a call to the office where the girl’s father works, telling him that he needs to come home right away.

Sam is hiding in the bushes and trying not to let his laughter give him away as he watches the father storm home and chase Dean out of the house with his pants around his ankles. He’s fighting back tears of mirth as he watches Dean struggle to get behind the wheel and start to panic when the car doesn’t start, but his glee turns immediately to terror when he sees the girl’s father come out of the house with a baseball bat. He smashes both of the car’s driver-side windows, and Dean catches a nasty blow to his left shoulder as he gets out of the car to protect it before Sam manages to break cover and come running up, shouting, “Don’t hurt my brother! Please, don’t hurt my brother!”

Between Sam and the girl, they manage to drag Dean and the father apart, and placate him long enough to allow Dean and Sam to push the car out of his driveway and back down the street to the bar. Sam is shaking and barely holding back tears by the time they arrive, and he doesn’t even give Dean a chance to notice that something’s wrong before breaking down.

“Oh, god, Dean, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He can barely stand to look at his brother, not knowing what he will see on Dean’s face.

“What are you talking about, Sammy? You saved my ass back there.”

“I… I was the one who messed with the car and called her dad. I was so mad at you for making fun of me the last few days… But I swear I didn’t know he’d get that angry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you, I swear.”

“You…” Sam can hear the fury in his brother’s voice, but then Dean takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again, he sounds a little calmer. “What did you do to the car, Sam?”

“Just disconnected the battery,” Sam whispers, swallowing back another sob. He hears Dean pop the hood, reconnect the battery, and slam it shut again, but he doesn’t look up until he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on,” Dean says as Sam looks up at him. He looks more apologetic himself than angry, and he reaches out a hand to help Sam to his feet, which Sam takes. “One of the guys at the garage owes me a favor, so it won’t be any trouble to get the windows replaced. You wanna help me?” Sam nods.

They’re both quiet as they get in the car, but after they’ve been on the road for a few minutes, Dean breaks the silence. “I’m sorry about teasing you like I did, Sam. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but can we make a deal?”

“What’s that?”

“No more pranks that mess with the car, okay?”

“Deal.”

2006

In retrospect, the pranks they’d subjected one another to this time around were relatively tame. The last time Dean had used the itching powder trick, Sam had been in middle school, and turning up the volume on the stereo in the Impala was positively bush league compared to what he used to do before messing with the car had been declared off-limits. Supergluing Dean’s beer bottle to his hand had been a long-overdue payback, but other than that… It was the pranks that they’d pulled on the two “ghost hunters”—pretending to be a movie producer in order to send them off to California, and putting a dead fish in the back seat of their car—that had been truly inspired. And the fact that they’d come up with the ideas independently was a welcome reminder of something that he’d always known: that they were at their best when they were working together, whether the goal was stopping an invincible monster or just shaking a couple of idiots off their trail.

Sam wants to tell Dean as much, but it will probably have to wait. He doubts Dean will be particularly receptive to the message when he comes out of the bathroom and discovers that Sam has short-sheeted his bed. Of course, it’s less than he deserves for pulling the whole “shaving cream in the hand and a feather up the nose” trick on Sam last night while he was sleeping. Their truce hadn’t even managed to last the hundred miles that Dean had promised, but that’s okay. As long as they’re going with the juvenile classics, Sam can keep this up forever. He wonders if this town has a joke shop; it’s been a long time since he’s seen a whoopee cushion…

#supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #1.17 hell house #fade to black #the hair and superglue on the hand was inspired by a real-life prank #my college boyfriend's roommate did that to him once #the night before he was going to drive up to visit me (we were long-distance)#the roommate thought i'd be grossed out by the implication #but i actually found it hilarious

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mari-vargas · 3 years

Text

Ok so I’m sitting waiting for my car to get an oil change (yes…the alert popped up Monday afternoon…just a day after my whole tire adventure), and since I just told this story yet again recently (to my tow truck driver on Sunday) I figured I’d share one of my “when it rains it pours” stories about my car. This is the story I mentioned in the teaser/reminder post, about my car transmission.

So I was headed home from university for winter break one year, and I had my two cats and a friend from high school that wound up eventually following me to university. Wow I just realized how much I’d love to tell the story about this friend of mine, but it’s a whole thing in and of itself so I’ll get into that another time…maybe soon so I’ll make a bit more sense…idk it’ll be fine I’m sure.

Anyways, we lived about an eight and a half hour drive away from our university. We were about an hour and a half to two hours in to our drive, in an area looking just like any other on the main stretch of the journey and I had no clue where precisely I was. All of a sudden, my car started making a weird noise. I’m not even sure I can describe it, but I absolutely will still recognize it to this day and am terrified of hearing it. When my tire was about to blow out it started making a similar noise and it’s only because it was missing the next few things to happen that I didn’t freak out as bad as the first time my battery died. ANYWAYS after it started making a sort of…clunking sound, it started revving (which I will be perfectly honest, happens sometimes with my car especially going at higher speeds with resistance like air or a slight incline or a slight decline), but the next two things were especially weird. The needle on my rpm meter started hard swinging back and forth like a pendulum on a grandfather clock even though I was keeping a steady pressure on my accelerator…and then my acceleration started rapidly declining.

I was in the far left lane of a three lane section of the freeway, and I was rapidly decelerating without any idea why or any ability to get myself to go faster. Also couldn’t find my hazard lights because it wasn’t in the same place as the car I had learned in. Anyways…somehow, miraculously, and with an awful lot of anger on other drivers parts (mostly towards the end because I was freaking out and didn’t just stop) I managed to get all the way over before the next exit, exited, waited at a light to turn left like an absolute dummy, and very very slowly made it into the parking lot of some sort of mall or shopping center thing. Where I then parked, and proceeded to freak the heck out. My friend was freaking out too and honestly I think I had more knowledge about what to do than he did, which considering the near white out panic I was in for at least a moment there is kinda saying something. I didn’t know what was wrong with my car. I tried to compare it to things I’d seen happen and just…didn’t know. My gas was full, the battery seemed to be working, tires all fine of course (don’t even remember if I’d even thought about tires at the time). All I knew was that my car had stopped accelerating at all. Maybe there was something wrong with my accelerator? I just didn’t know. It was out of my depth for what I knew how to deal with.

I started messaging everyone—texting because autocorrect could carry me through the worst of my hands shaking, fingers slipping, and eyes blurring which were all getting in the way of my ability to call anybody. I remember talking a lot with my sister, and a bit with my dad, probably even my mom at some point (who would’ve had a significantly leveler head and some more info than my dad). My sister meanwhile was talking and relaying information back and forth with my niece’s dad who was a mechanic at several points before and during the time we knew him (honestly don’t know if he currently was or wasn’t at that exact time but knowledge and skill like his doesn’t just go away). But whatever I’m amongst all that my sister was also the first to remind me about the AAA our grandma has gotten for all of her grandkids as soon as they start driving (yes, same grandma I travel with all the time. Makes sense, no? Always glad she’s able to do that for the five us).

So I call AAA and my friend is on the phone talking with his mom. My dad, knowing I could get a tow up to 100mi, sends me the address for a steak house exactly 100mi from the shopping center I was in (and had a decent sized parking lot for trucks). Tow truck pulls up, finds out I actually really am aiming for the full 100mi, calls his boss to get clearance for the long distance tow rather than the in town tow he was told he was cleared for because he didn’t want to pass us off to someone else since I guess he was sorta attached to making sure we got through this after hearing probably a full blown spiel from me, gets the OK and loads up my little red spark which I had cracked the windows of for my cats. We all hop into the cab of the truck and he goes and gasses up and as we’re pulling out of the truck gas station, I realize where I am. My car had died just past the exit I usually would stop for coffee at. Needless to say I was a bit superstitious after that and always stopped at that coffee shop either direction after that, whether I needed coffee or not.

So he tows us to the steak house a hundred miles away and it’s dark and the tow truck driver is concerned about leaving us in the middle of nowhere but I reassured him that I have someone with a car trailer on their way already. In case you’re wondering, that would be my sister’s coparent (here on referred to as B) with mechanic experience who would also fix up friends’ cars on the side and even had a couple of project cars.

So yeah we’re waiting there my cats are fine, frustrated over not being done with being in a car yet but seemingly understanding something unusual and out of my control had happened. It’s dark and around late dinner time. There’s a chain restaurant of some kind across the way, so my friend and I walk over there to get some dinner. Before that though, we had a talk because well…we’re wandering around in the dark. Now my friend, he’s tall like super tall and has a face that would at least warn away casual glances. However. He cannot throw a punch or literally defend himself in just about any way whatsoever. Me on the other hand, I unfortunately look like easy pickings. But I can throw a punch and otherwise escape an attacker and potentially help others get away too. So we had an agreement. He’d be there looking big and tough and warning away people, but if anything actually happened I’d be the one throwing fists and feet and getting us out.

I mean, we were fine. Got our food, got back to the car, no problem. But fact remains we had to have that conversation. Anyways it was another 2-4 hours before B showed up with the trailer. But show up eventually he did and he got us loaded up and into his truck (with my cats WITH me this time) and we hit the road, dropping my friend off with his mom at around 0100 and I finally made it home about half an hour after. He left my car on his trailer to get in the morning to take to the dealership.

So the dealership takes a look at it and says “well the transmission is completely dead, good news it’s still covered under the factory warranty.” It took a good while to be replaced but it was and again it was all on warranty.

Now I said “when it rains it pours”.

I could’ve just meant it was something major, out of nowhere right? But no…unfortunately, no. This was the winter break I’d been volunteering at that museum (have I mentioned this before? Eh….) and since I didn’t have my car I borrowed my mom’s. When I finally got my car back, we decided to keep having me use my mom’s car because I’d had to register it with security so they’d know not to charge me for parking. So my car sat in the driveway for the next…let’s say two weeks before I had to head back to university (again with my friend and cats in tow).

So it’s now I think the day before I leave and my dad takes my car to the grocery store and to gas it up for me while I’m working. Only…it doesn’t start. Or gives him problems or something I don’t even know the specifics. B can’t look at it before I have to leave, so we decide to just have my mom and I swap until spring. B came over maybe halfway through my drive and found a rodent nest in the engine compartment (rabbit or rat, we’re not entirely sure). Abandoned, but it looked like they’d chewed through some wires and other connectors to make room for their home. B got it taped together just enough for it to be taken back to the dealership to be properly fixed. It was.

BUT THEN (oh you thought it was over? Haha eh… almost)

It’s not quite spring break yet so my mom and I still have each other’s cars. My mom went to turn the key (on or off I honestly don’t know) and it broke. It was apparently a bit of an adventure for her involving at least three different shops but she got it replaced.

My little red car was running beautifully by the time I got it back 🤣

#story time #mari’s life #life after mari #car trouble #chevy spark #Chevy sparks are shop queens #shop queen #transmission #transmission died #when it rains it pours #stay safe #never go alone

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #230: THE LAST FAREWELL!

April, 1983

“Yellowjacket no more!”

Aw, dang! Hank got raptured!

Captain America, Thor, and Hawkeye is a weird collection of characters to be staring forlornly at the empty Yellowjacket uniform.

Thor hasn’t really expressed much about the Yellowjacket situation in comparison. You think they could squeeze Wasp into the shot. Just her ex-husband is all. She’s just the team leader is all.

Put Wasp on the cover, you cowards.

So last times on Avengers: Hank Pym got himself kicked out of the Avengers and out of his marriage and pretty much deserved it. He was tricked into committing treason by his arch-nemesis Egghead and sent to jail. He sat in jail for, like, a really long time. The wheels really spun on the arc.

He was kicked out of the Avengers/walked before he could be kicked out in #213. He was arrested at the end of issue #217. His trial was in issue #228.

He was kidnapped from his trial by the Masters of Evil. Then in #229, he turned the tables on them all in quite a satisfying manner and slugged Egghead in the egg head.

Then Hawkeye manslaughtered him. He’s dead.

Hawkeye arrowed the science gun to stop Egghead from shooting Hank in the back and then the science gun backfired and microwaved that egg.

This makes Hank’s victory a little bittersweet for him.

Hank Pym: “I defeated the Masters of Evil single-handed... but more than anything, I wanted to bring Egghead to justice. He was a thorn in my side for so many years. I was never able to defeat him for long, not when I was Ant-Man... and not even after I became Giant-Man! He bedeviled me in every identity I assumed. He did me the greatest wrong when I was Yellowjacket. I’d already ruined my Avengers career, when he tricked me into committing a federal crime!”

Hawkeye too is set to thinking by what happened. Maybe humming a bit of Bohemian Rhapsody to himself too.

Hawkeye: “This is unreal! I’ve never killed a man before! I never planned on anything like this happening! Yeah, but I can’t feel sorry for Egghead! If anyone deserved this, he did! My brother Barney bought the farm, stopping Egghead from killing the Avengers. And if I hadn’t acted when I did, Hank Pym would be dead! If I had to do it again... I would!”

Hawkeye: ‘Eh, fuck ‘em!’

hah.

But Hank laments that with Egghead dead, so goes his chance of proving his innocence by turning him over to the law.

Hank Pym: “Egghead was always getting away from me, Hawkeye. It’s almost as if he’s pulled the ultimate escape!”

Fun fact: There doesn’t seem to be an Ultimate Egghead! Why would there need to be? Even more than in the 616, Ultimate Hank Pym is by far his own worst enemy.

Hawkeye basically tells Hank to buck up and that there’s basically incriminating evidence lying all over the place.

He doesn’t say it but even Egghead’s dead deceased corpse is kind of like evidence. Evidence that he wasn’t dead until recently.

Captain Marvel shows up because someone finally came looking for Hawkeye.

Hank is surprised, much like others have been that this is Captain Marvel. He knew the old guy, the super saiyan. And I guess he didn’t hear there was a new one.

Hawkeye: “We’ve had a few changes since you went in the slammer, Hank. C.M. is an Avenger in training.”

Huh. Captain Marvel doesn’t even react to the dead body. Then again, there’s a lot of bodies lying all around the place.

And while Hawkeye is introducing the new Captain Marvel to Hank, one of those bodies stirs.

Moonstone has regained consciousness and assesses the situation. She could blast Hank, Captain Marvel, and Hawkeye with her coherent light pew pew but that’d just weaken her.

Like in the previous issue, Moonstone is one of the few supervillains who knows when to fold ‘em.

So she decides to skeedaddle while the getting is good but whoops.

Getting wasn’t good.

The rest of the Avengers have shown up and cornered her while she was pondering.

So Moonstone decides ‘eh fuck it’ and promises to spill all the beans if it gets her a lighter sentence.

So days later, the mostly off-screen trial of Hank Pym finally ends.

A loooot of new evidence suddenly popping up led the prosecution to withdraw all charges.

The lead prosecution witness, Trish Starr, suddenly reversing her testimony after putting on Tony Stark’s magical mental-scan helmet kind of tanked the case, really.

Wait, they really did just admit the use of the helmet in the trial when its new, unsubstantiated technology whose inventor disappeared?

Damn, I knew the Marvel legal system was wild (considering comic books as legal documents as explored in Dan Slott’s run on the character) but still!

Although it makes sense. Egghead got Trish to incriminate Hank by using the bionic arm to alter her memories. The helmet Tony invented undoes that kind of alteration. This connects the dots quite reasonably. Glad Stern was paying attention when preparing to finish this arc.

Moonstone and Beetle confirming that Egghead was using Hank as a tool also helps.

In fact, not only did the prosecution drop all their charges, the judge also dismissed all the charges. Which feels redundant? I dunno much about law, really. Just the She-Hulk version of law. Which, again, uses comic books as legal documents.

Apparently happening at around the same time, Hawkeye also had his day in court.

Literally a day.

It wasn’t a trial, just a hearing to investigate whether he was guilty of wrong-doing in the death of Egghead.

Newsman with a newsplan: “Though he was threatened with contempt-of-court charges a number of times -- Hawkeye was found innocent of any wrong-doing in the death of Dr. Elihas Starr -- the self-styled Egghead.”

Yeah, I bet Hawkeye was threatened with contempt-of-court a bunch. And I bet you anything that at least one of the times he rejoined with “No, you’re out of order! This whole damn courtroom is out of order!”

And then the judge probably just sighed.

I mean, look at that unbelievable Hawkeye in the bottom left panel.

Anyway, I think Stern must have felt a little pent up having to start his Avengers run finishing off someone else’s story, especially having to devote a recap issue to it since the plot had been interspersed with fill-ins.

Because in the middle of concluding this arc, he throws in two plot beats that I have to assume are to set up stuff of his own.

A day after the trial, the Beetle is being escorted to a cell in a Western Pennsylvanian federal maximum security prison when he bumps into another prisoner.

What neither the Beetle or the guard notices is that the bump to “Sam Smithers” has peeled off some skin on his arm and revealed THAT HE IS ACTUALLY MADE OF WOOD!

Suspect possibly a living puppet.

And elsewhere but samewhen, IN SPACE, specifically on Saturn’s moon Titan, Thanos’ brother Eros is basically complaining about being bored.

When Captain Mar-vell died of having a lot of cancer, he asked Eros to look after Mar-vell’s... uh... -google- robot girlfriend?? Elysius.

Eventual mom to Genis and Phyla-Vells.

Soooooo, Eros has done as Mar-vell’s deathbed wish was and spent an agonizing several consecutive months hanging out in Titan’s beautiful inside forests and just having a real hard time caring about one thing for such a long period of time.

I’m not even being unfair to him.

Eros: “This is the first time in ages that I’ve spent so many consecutive months on Titan! I have ever been a wanderer! I’ve sought out adventure across the wide cosmos. Frankly, I have known romance on more worlds than most sentient beings could imagine. That’s part of the problem. Our friendship has been wonderful, but I’m having a hard time adjusting to it. My previous relationships have all been of a fleeting nature.”

‘Look its not you, its me’ except for attempting to dump someone as a friend, instead of romantically.

Not dump, even. He just kind of wants to ditch her and is asking in a roundabout way if she’s emotionally stable enough to ditch.

She goes, yeah sure, go off and have fun. And maybe she’s getting tired of his company too.

Elysius: “Look... you’ve been a great comfort to me these last few months, but now I need to be alone for a while with my thoughts.”

Geez, how clingy has he been this whole time while desperately wanting to be anywhere else?

Anyway, since she’s fine with him fucking off, he does fuck off. Right to the Hall of Science.

Where Eros’ dad is like ‘oh ffs’ when Eros tells him that he needs to use the LIVING COMPUTER Isaac to look up planets with the highest adventure potential.

Mentor of Titan is a man deeply disappointed in both of his sons for very different reasons.

Anyway, would you really be surprised if I told you that Earth was in the Top 3 planets in known space for adventure?

You wouldn’t, right?

Meanwhile, back at the plot, Hank Pym is on a boat with Trish Starr.

She wants to apologize for that time she incriminated him but Hank isn’t going to blame her for being as much a pawn in Egghead’s scheme as he was.

Trish: “Yes, uncle was like that all of his life. I think he really enjoyed using people.”

And she remembers the first time they met in Marvel Feature #5, where Egghead tried to drain her mind to power his machines. Because. Batteries hadn’t been invented? Because he’s just not happy unless he’s screwing over someone else?

Second one sounds likeliest.

She also remembers the time he car bombed her car but siphoned out most of the gas first.

Trish: “He didn’t want to kill me... only maim me. Nice guy, my uncle.”

Yeah. Its stories like that why its only Trish and Hank also Fred Sloan on a boat at Egghead’s funeral. Yeah, by the way, this is basically Egghead’s funeral.

Fred is only here for Trish.

Hank reacts to Fred so I wondered if he’s important in some way or if Hank recognized him but I checked the wiki and his main importance seems to be... this issue? So I don’t know why Hank reacts to the guy.

So Fred is just here for Trish. Trish is here out of duty, since she was Egghead’s only known family. And Hank is also only here out of duty but more archnemesis ‘can’t believe that asshole is dead and I don’t even get to feel good about it’ duty. I assume.

Hank even gets the honor (?) of laying Egghead to rest. By dumping his ashes into New York harbor.

Mostly because it doesn’t seem like Trish wants to?

So Hank quotes some Mark Twain and dumps the ashes.

Hank Pym: “‘Death... the only immortal who treats us all alike, whose pity and whose peace and whose refuge are for all -- the soiled and the pure, the rich and the poor, the loved and the unloved.’ Farewell, Egghead.”

Trish: “It’s awful to say this -- but I can’t find it in myself to be sorry. I think I’m glad he’s dead.”

And that’s Egghead’s legacy. Mourned by no one. And his death is only not cheered because the only people that cared feel shitty about feeling glad he’s dead.

ANYWAY, there’s some other loose ends to tie up.

So Hank takes a taxi to the Avengers Mansion and I guess finally explicitly explains why the mansion has seemed to change positions over time?

Hank Pym: “I never thought I’d be coming here again. The place has certainly changed since the day Jan and I met here with Iron Man, Thor, and the Hulk to draft the Avengers charter and by-laws. And I still recall the time Iron Man and Thor moved the mansion back from the street to give us more privacy. What a project that was!”

Sounds like a heck of a noodle incident, Hank.

... Why just Thor and Iron Man? Did they... did they literally just shove the mansion back from the street? ... There’s... basements and caves under there. How does that work? That seems like a massive architectural project.

Hank, pls, I need to know more details. You can’t just drop that information and casually stroll away. HANK!

Captain Marvel meets Hank at the door and escorts him inside, captain marveling at how calm Hank is despite everything he’s been through.

Hank shows up to the Avengers meeting and-

Oh god, She-Hulk looks like she wants to punch the suppressed emotions right out of Jan. She-Hulk, pls.

So, Wasp is super formal, calling Hank Dr. Pym and telling him that they want to use the mento-scan helmet to see if he was under outside influence when he did all the very bad things he did.

All of the Avengers are harboring their own concerns.

She-Hulk: “I’ve read legal briefs that were more informal! She’s cool on the surface, but inside -- ! Jannie, why are you doing this to yourself?!”

Are you guys already at the cute nickname stage of your friendship or is that just the way She-Hulk be?

Cap is worried that this is rough on Jan but that she’s doing what she needs to do as the Avengers chairwoman. But he’s more worried about the absence of Iron Man who is still missing and who ignored three calls to assemble.

Thor is just internally like ‘just do the helmet, my dude.’

Hawkeye is literally biting his lip at the tension.

Hawkeye: “Jan divorced Hank after his last breakdown. If we find out that he wasn’t to blame, what’s it gonna do to the both of ‘em? I hate this! That stupid court hearing was a breeze in comparison.”

Huh, Hawkeye has a point. Even if outside influence is proven, its not as straightforward as Jan and Hank instantly getting back together, no harm no foul. There was harm. And the problems with their relationship were deeper than one incident. But it would also create this possible expectation that they should get back together because the specific incident wasn’t Hank’s fault.

And Captain Marvel is still looking at this from an outsiders’ perspective.

Captain Marvel: “They’re really hurting over this... all of them! They all care so very, very much. If I ever become a fully active Avenger, I pray that I can live up to their example.”

So Hank very calmly agrees to use the helmet. But...

Hank Pym: “Sorry... no outside influences. It would have changed a lot of things if there had been, wouldn’t it? But no, I made my own mistakes... and I have to live with them.”

Thiiiiis was the best decision for the story arc. It may seem, in retrospect, the worst decision in the long run, but I can respect the story for standing by what it has done and standing by the growth Hank has had as a result of everything that happened.

I think a lot of more modern marvel comics have gone a little wild with letting the heroes do all kinds of dubious things and also die because it can be easily undone. It was a Skrull, they were being mind-controlled, it was an AU Nazi version of them created by a cosmic cube child. Or by giving the hero some big redemptive moment like Iron Man wiping his mind to make up for doing Civil War. Or Iron Man dying to make up for Civil War 2. You can explore whatever scenarios you want without worrying about dealing with the consequences long-term.

But in this era of Marvel, they were concerned with the long-term. Not to say that there weren’t cop-outs back in this day too. But since books were expected to keep going indefinitely instead of being cancelled and relaunched, there’s less of a sense of ‘this thing is only here to play with for a little while.’ If you wrote a thing, another writer was expected to follow up on it.

And I miss that a little.

So not giving a cop-out bullshit thing that undoes Hank’s actions was bad in the long run for his image as a character. But that’s a long way from now problem, exacerbated by writers like Chuck Austin and Mark Millar who wanted to wallow in it.

For an arc where Hank fell from grace and proved himself again, taking ownership of what a garbage fire his life can be was necessary.

One among many reasons I probably won’t like the Crossing when I get to it, haha.

With Hank’s actions proven as being Hank’s actions, Hank says there’s one more loose end that he wants to help tie off.

He wants to participate as witness when the Avengers hold a court of inquiry for Hawkeye killing Egghead.

This comes as an absolute surprise to Hawkeye, who I guess never read the bylaws. Which honestly, is very in-character for him.

But it being brought up, he insists that all he has to do is enter the findings of the state judge and be done with it.

Hank insists he participate though.

Hank Pym: “Hawkeye is faced with charges because he acted in my defense. It’s only right that I act in his.”

So, the Avengers go to the first floor library, which is apparently the court of inquiry room. I feel like we’re suddenly getting a lot of details about the layout of the Avengers Mansion in recent issues.

So Wasp convenes the court all formal style, so formal style that Hawkeye thinks that stickler Cap(tain America) couldn’t have done a better job. The purpose of the court of inquiry is to determine the validity of the charge of “unreasonable use of deadly force” and determine what if any proper disciplinary action should be taken.

I think Hawkeye is annoyed at having to go through with this (read the bylaws, my dude) because when Wasp asks if he has anything to add to his claim of innocence of the charge, he says he already gave the court copies of the court transcript that cleared him of the same charge, but also decides to speechify a little, because he wasn’t accused of contempt of court enough today.

Hawkeye: “I have already given the chair copies of the transcript of a hearing of the state courts... a hearing which found me not guilty of the same charge. And I have something else to say as well!”

“I don’t deny that my actions caused the death of Egghead. But in no way did I use undue force! I found Hank Pym in mortal danger, and I used the necessary means to save him... period. After all, we are supposed to be the Avengers, right?”

Luckily for Hawkeye, the Avengers are more willing to put up with him than a state court so Jan just goes ‘ok, noted.’

Captain Marvel also has a minor change of heart on Hawkeye. I don’t think we’ve gotten her in-depth feelings on him before (although he did get pissy about her joining the team, we didn’t see her response to that) but she’s impressed because she thought he had more wind than conviction but is seeing that isn’t so. And she’s also impressed by Serious Mode Jan who she thought was kind of flighty.

Captain Monica Marvel seeing all kinds of new sides of the Avengers lately.

Also, this isn’t important and you won’t be able to see what I mean unless I included more caps than I wanted to, but in the panel establishing the court of inquiry, Monica is just standing off to the side. But in the next panel she appears in, she’s moved over to sit on a couch instead.

I think its a framing thing but its still kind of funny to imagine her going ‘wait why am I standing up’ and heading for the comfy couch.

With Hawkeye’s statement given, Wasp invites Hank Pym to speak his piece.

And Hank gets up and gives an entirely unnecessary but probably appreciated defense of Hawkeye.

Hank Pym: “Ladies and gentlemen... I have not always been on the friendliest of terms with Hawkeye. Point of fact, we nearly came to blows a number of times... back in the days when I was an Avenger. But in all the time I’ve known him, Hawkeye has never used undue force.”

“I realize that this inquiry is little more than a formality. I have no doubt that you will find in his behalf. He did, as he said, act only in my defense. Unlike my own recent case before you, there is not the slightest hint of misconduct or negligence. The only thing Hawkeye is guilty of is being a good Avenger.”

“When I last spoke before this body, at my court-martial, I was not in a rational state of mind. I was unfit to be an Avenger. You wisely expelled me. I never expected to speak before you again. And now, I can think of no finer final statement than this... It has been my sincere honor to have known Hawkeye’s fellowship... as it has to have known yours.”

Okay. So. Half a defense of Hawkeye. And half... just a general good-bye and a demonstration that he actually does know how to deliver a defense at a court-martial. Cool.

I imagine if he had a mic, he would have dropped it.

Probably not, actually. Hank isn’t that exact blend of cool and inconsiderate for a mic drop.

Jarvis intercepts Hank on his way out and asks that he come with him to the second floor study. Jarvis has taken the liberty of gathering up the personal items Hank just kind of left in the mansion and packing them for him.

One suitcase has a bunch of Hank’s clothes that he had stashed in the mansion over the years. Including some wacky ties for wacky tie Fridays and a shirt that Hank had just plumb lost.

The other suitcase is a spare Yellowjacket outfit. In case Hank ever needs it.

Then Hank and Jarvis shake hands, Hank thanking Jarvis for everything that he’s done for him and the Avengers. He asks Jarvis to take care of himself because he knows he doesn’t have to ask him to take care of the Avengers.

This is a very touching scene. Its so touching that Jarvis excuses himself to go get misty eyed.

This is a Jarvis appreciation blog because I appreciate Jarvis as well.

Then, as Hank heads back down the staircase, he is intercepted by Thor, Captain America, and Hawkeye.

Yeah, the court of inquiry resolved off-screen because of how forgone a conclusion it was.

The three Avengers basically fall all over themselves to pat Hank on the back. Hank actually looks somewhat panicked by the positive affirmation.

That’s some mixture of funny and sad that I can’t identify.

Hawkeye tells Hank how much he appreciated his unnecessary defense. Thor clasps Hank’s shoulder and tells him he’s a class act, but in Thor-y words. And Cap extends an offer for whatever the Avengers can do to help Hank get back on his feet.

Hank thanks him for the offer but he’s already received an offer from a small research foundation in the Midwest.

Seems like getting exonerated of a treason charge is the best resume of all. That and Hank’s actual impressive resume.

But Cap has some stuff to work out re: Hank because he starts off on the stuff he put on the back burner back in that Ghost Rider issue.

Cap(tain America): “Hank... I know Iron Man would agree, if he were here, that we’re all sorry about the way things worked out. We should have realized the pressures you’d been under, prior to your breakdown. I was group leader at the time! I should have -- !”

Hank Pym: “Hold it right there, Cap! What I did, I did to myself! If I could have admitted that my problems existed... If I’d been willing to open up to you folks... Well, ‘if’ can be a big word sometimes. The fact of the matter is, I screwed up. And you did the only thing you could do! I don’t blame any of you.”

Hank has boarded the personal responsibility train and goddammit he’s riding it to the end of the line!

Good for him. Good clarity for the arc to have in its last issue.

But having started to slightly shout at the Avengers that he’s taking responsibility dammit! (he looks a bit pissed when he’s responding to Cap) Hank awkwardly excuses himself.

Cap tries to stop Hank from leaving because he has reached the bargaining stage of grief, I guess.

Cap: “Hank, wait! It doesn’t have to end like this! We could make a special amendment to the by-laws! We could reinstate you as an Avenger! You could be a special reservist -- !”

Hank: “Thanks, Cap. But no thanks. Trying to play super hero was the biggest mistake I ever made with my life! I was only fooling myself in ever thinking otherwise. But if you ever really think you might need a Yellowjacket again some day...”

He hands Cap the Yellowjacket suitcase.

Hank: “... Here! All you need is a good man and what’s in this case!”

I would hope, anyway. It’s going to be awkward if he opens it up later and its full of wacky ties.

The funny thing, although not really funny ha ha, is that Yellowjacket is the one codename of Hank’s that never really catches on outside of him.

You have multiple Ant-Men, a couple Goliaths, at least one other Giant-Man. There was a second Yellowjacket, eventually. But she didn’t make a big splash.

Despite Hank’s attempt here to pass the torch, Yellowjacket is a codename that remains inextricably tied to him. Which might be the problem. If there were another, more successful or at least more endearing Yellowjacket, Hank’s infamy in the role would not stand out so much.

Alas.

She-Hulk and Captain Marvel try next to intercept Hank. They don’t know him very well but they wanted to say their goodbyes too, despite not really knowing him that well.

Its the thought that definitely counts, probably.

But Hawkeye has some social awareness for a change and draws their attention to Wasp who is hanging back, but who clearly wants to talk to Hank.

So the rest of the Avengers quickly vacate to let Hank and Jan finally have closure. Or re-closure. “I want a divorce and to never see you again” is a kind of closure.

The situation has changed, however.

They both try to apologize to each other and then laugh at the awkwardness.

Hank: “Janet van Dyne, you are one in a million! After all that I put you through, you want to tell me that you’re sorry?”

Wasp: “I think we both made some mistakes along the way, but there were some good times... weren’t there?”

Hank: “Yes. But you can’t base a marriage on just a few good times. I fell for the young lady who reminded me of my first wife... and you thought you’d found the strong, silent hero. But I was never that strong, Jan. You know that now.”

Wasp: “Uh-huh.”

Damn, his prison time really did bring Hank a lot of clarity. That or the pile of therapists Tony kept throwing at him.

Hank also kind of talks over Jan here. Or at least steers the conversation. I don’t know what Jan would have said because Hank tells her that they both have other lives to lead and tells her to take care of herself.

Maybe its for the best, if, like Cap, she was going to try to shoulder all the blame for Hank’s bad decisions.

Hank walks out the door and finds Trish and Fred from the boat waiting to give him a ride to the airport. And then he is gone.

Like in the final image of the COURT-MARTIAL issue, Jan watches at the window.

“The last time Henry Pym left these walls, Janet felt like crying... but couldn’t find any tears. Today, at last, she has found the tears... for her former husband... for her team... for herself. Today, there is pain and remorse and release. There will be time enough for joy and hope tomorrow.”

Emotional catharsis can be like that.

In that the book kept going ‘Jan is really holding her emotions in and that’s probably not overall great for her’ its good that she can let it out now.

Kind of laughing at Captain Marvel and She-Hulk who only recently just met Jan being the ones going there there while the men she has known for years are just awkwardly standing in the background.

And that’s the fall and rise of Hank Pym. Apparently collected in trade as The Trial of Yellowjacket, which is a decent enough name too.

Overall, a good arc. That is kind of hampered by the need for filler and a writer change near the end. But honestly, Stern catches the ball and runs with it. He concludes the arc just as good as Shooter would’ve.

This arc is all kinds of iconic for Hank, although, unfortunately, most people are only aware of the beginning and maybe have a hazy understanding of what the ending does.

Although. This is a really good send-off for Hank. A really, really good send-off that would have worked best if he did like he said and quit superheroing forever.

That’s not to be, obviously, not in a perpetual narrative machine like Marvel. But it feels like it could have been and maybe should have been the last word on his character.

I enjoy Hank in Busiek’s Avengers and in Avengers Academy. And also, conceptually, Hank telling Reed “it’s on, bitch.” I very don’t enjoy Ultimate Hank Pym. So its a balancing act. The perfect exit for the character vs but I like some stuff when they brought him back.

Anyway.

After this, Stern gets to move on to his own material. Which he already planted the seeds for in this issue.

That’s a pun.

Follow @essential-avengers because of my bad puns. Also like and reblog, if you like to reblog.

#Avengers #Egghead #Masters of Evil #Hank Pym #Hawkeye #the Wasp #Captain America #Thor #She Hulk #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #i did a lot of quoting because the comic has some good quotables here #essential avengers #essential marvel liveblogging

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keichanz · 4 years

Text

welp.

i got some bad news, guys. :/

so on sunday, my laptop, which i had for a good six years, started to get a little wonky on me and didn’t want to power up like it normally would. it was concerning, but i eventually got it to stay on so i dismissed it and didn’t think much about it.

but then, the next morning, when i went to browse a bit before i headed to work, it was completely dead. i don’t power down my computer--i usually just close the top and let it go to sleep. but sometime during sunday night after i went to bed, it died and now it will not power on for anything. it doesn’t even register my power cord either.

i took it to an apple store today to see if they could fix it. they even took it in the back and took it apart to check my battery. but aside from being a little dirty, they couldn’t find anything and told me the only thing they could do was send it out for repairs to what i’m guessing is the big wig factory or whatever.

cost of that? nearly $500. so yeah. that didn’t happen. i can buy a whole new computer for that price - not a mac, of course - but still.

so, yeah. the computer in which i wrote 99% of my stories on has died on me. i have a desktop, which is where i’m posting this from, but i dislike using it because it’s loud and slow despite my dad’s claims to the contrary. and it doesn’t have microsoft word, which is my preferred program for writing. for now i’ll just have to make due with Google docs, i suppose.

so, knowing this, writing is going to be a bit..delayed. sorry about that. BUT, not all is lost. see, since i didn’t end up having to spend a ridiculous amount of money on fixing my car this morning they basically just told me don’t worry about these problems, they’re just regular annoyances, deal with it that means that i’m able to buy a new computer - laptop or desktop, haven’t decided yet.

oh, and don’t worry - all of my documents, stories, WIPs and what have you are saved on my iCloud so i still have access to them. which is the main reason why i’m not freaking out or extremely pissed lol. if i’d lost everything i would most likely be an inconsolable ball of wrathful rage out for blood.

but anyway. this is the reason why i haven’t been as active lately and not on discord as much, for those of you in the servers i’m in. unfortunate, yes, but well, c’est la vie.

but hey--at least i got one good experience out of this haha. turns out the technician that looked at my computer is an Inuyasha fan i shit you not lmao. after she came back to tell me the results of taking it apart, she told me she loved my email address - inuyashazkagome which i’ve had since i was like 13 - and then for the next several minutes we dweebed out and started gushing about it and the sequel and it was fucking awesome lmao.

so, in a tl;dr version: computer died, can’t be fixed, gonna buy a new one, made a new friend hahahahaha.

in regards to my next oneshot, the one you guys voted for, I FINALLY FIGURED OUT A NAME FOR IT hopefully i’ll be getting that out soon as well. i’m gonna start shopping around for a new computer, and please PLEASE i am COMPLETELY dumb about this kind of stuff, so if y’all have any recommendations for laptops for desktops (aside from mac), please let me know!

#psa #adulting sucks

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kinghoranshit · 3 years

Text

The Watchers (1D) - 00 Hours

Part 1

I watched the names light up on our hologram. You never wanted to see your name listed. It meant someone put down a sum of money to have you killed during the 24 hour purge. If your name's not on the list, you're free to join in on the hunt or stay in your house; no one could kill you, but the sounds of screams were deafening. The amount of people who turned their backs on their loved ones, both figuratively and literally by killing them, was disgusting. There were even those "friends" who thought it'd be funny to list you.

Now, you're thinking that a purge is such a dumb idea. Want to know what's more stupid?

A bounty purge.

It's the government's way to keep the crime and gambling rates down, and those who may not be fortunate in their social class have a way to level up and gain funds. It became a sport for some. This was the 100th annual year and the names being listed were a lot of celebrities; normally the ratio of high and low status didn't fare this much.

My family and I were in resistance; my mom died trying to protect someone, now it was just my dad and I. We helped those whose names were on the list, not for free of course. We're like bounty hunters, but the opposite. A guard or babysitter sounds so lame though, so don't call me those.

I felt my eyes go wide when I saw all five names that formed One Direction. Who...would do this? They weren't even technically a group anymore; they only just started a virtual reunion tour. They all went solo long ago, so it didn't make sense as to why they would be grouped together. The amount of money put on their heads was ridiculous. Sadly, I didn't see them making it through the 24 hours, unless they have some great body protection, or are suddenly kickass in combat.

The blue hue to the hologram disappeared and it was silent darkness for a while. There were so many bounties this year. It was obvious that they didn't have a limit for the 100th year. There wouldn't be enough of us. Our organization, The Watchers, dropped by a third because it was such a significant milestone year for the bounty purge. I guess people became afraid again.

"Katie," my dad stated.

I sat up and looked at him. "Yeah, what's up?"

"You're being assigned to Niall Horan, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik and Liam Payne."

I blinked my eyes a couple times then cupped my ear for dramatic effect. "I'm what? Say that again."

"Modest!, their management, has contacted The Watchers and asked for you specifically. I guess they must've seen how well you kept Selena Gomez safe last year."

Yes, this work has lent to meeting celebrities, but the conversation doesn't tend to get that far. Last year was Selena Gomez, and the previous was Brie Larson. Both were troopers, especially Brie, she was fun to hang out with when we weren't fighting others. She still messages me every now and then when she's not working.

I cleared my throat. "That's...dad, they've got the largest sum I've ever seen for a bounty. You know how many people will be going after them?"

He smirked. "Is...Katie Lee..scared of hunters?"

I scoffed. "No, I'm not. I just know when my odds of keeping said assignment safe are high or not."

"Sorry, kiddo, there's no getting out of this one. They've prepared to set you up on a hidden bunker and arm you with anything you need if someone happens to find it."

A hidden bunker? Any weapons I want? That doesn't sound like a bad negotiation. I've definitely been dealt with less advantages.

The hologram started up again and it was one of the leaders, Rump. A cynical grin played on his lips. This couldn't be good. It was never good when his face appeared.

"Hello everyone, now that the names have been presented, we would like to bring in a new factor to the 100th year of the bounty purge. Instead of 24 hours, it will be 72 hours. That is three whole days to find your prey and get your prize. Let the purge commence in 48 hours."

For once, I felt sick to my stomach. Is this what fear felt like? Three days to keep these five boys alive? Let's hope no one trying to kill them were great trackers or hackers; if the base was hidden well enough, I could set traps outside and inside. That was going to be a must with the new circumstances.

My teeth clenched and I let out a deep breath into my fists. I sat there thinking for a little bit longer. If I was going to even manage to keep a few of them alive, I needed to leave tonight.

I stood and went upstairs to pack the essentials; I don't care if I have the weapon vault of my fucking dreams, I will never leave my crossbow at home. Every save I've had over the last eight years has been with this crossbow. When I came back into the living with my duffel bag slung on my shoulder and crossbow in hand, my dad actually had a look of worry etched into his face.

"Be careful. I know The Watcher's word is 'assignment comes first, you come second', but if it becomes too much, you get yourself out of there, okay?"

"Dad..." I trailed, at a loss for words. I've never heard my dad speak against The Watcher's word.

"You hear me?" he pushed.

I cleared my throat with a nod. "Yeah, dad. I do."

He pulled me into a tight hug. "Good. Your transport should be here any moment."

I pulled back with a small smile. I was well aware this could be the last time I saw him, but I couldn't bring myself to say the three words. It was a mutual thing we both had. We knew we both loved each other.

I peeked out the front window to see the black sudan parked in our driveway. I gave my dad a peck on the cheek before I slipped out the front door and jogged to the sudan. I opened the driver side passenger door and threw my bag and crossbow in first.

"Please state your ID number," the driver ordered.

"Watcher 402, Katie Lee, reporting for duty."

Carl smirked. "Perfect."

"That never gets old for you, does it Carl?"

He shook his head. "Never."

I laughed and buckled myself up. I pulled out my tablet to find the recent file sent to me. It was everything I needed to know about my transport, the bunker we'd be hiding away in, and the contact info for the supplier.

"So...who are you babysitting this year?"

The driver's never get told who a Watcher's assignment is for reasons. But I've known Carl for years; he was always the one who took me to the helicopter.

I still answered, out of precaution, "An important band. That's all I'm saying."

"Really? A certain boy band?" he mocked.

"You know I won't say the name, but yes that one boy band."

"That'll be fun, I'm sure."

I rolled my eyes in response.

I busied myself with contacting the supplier to get my vault sorted. This was definitely the most reinforcements I'ved used. I felt probably an unsettling amount of excitement to get my hands on everything. I knew that in the line of action I would be less thrilled.

***

The helicopter landed on the last minute created pad. It was a circle created by rocks; a majority of them were like this. I knew that we were in upper Minnesota, near the lakes. I snatched my duffel and crossbow as I got out of the helicopter and followed the other Watcher that had been waiting for me. Now, I was guided to a different car that drove off deeper into the forest.

It looked secluded enough by the trees; the bear traps were going to hide perfectly in the bushes. And if that didn't stop them? I knew that the wiring, jumper cables, and car batteries were going to work wonders for every door and window, along with strips of nails at the edge of the entrance if they happened to surpass everything else. And if they also bypass that? Well, they'll have to go through me.

I'm going to Home Alone this motherfucker up.

I was guided to the front of the house and my jaw dropped at the beauty of the steel siding and roof. Okay, the blueprint did not mention the steel exterior. And from where I stood I could see the small security cameras. There's no way they just built this in a matter of a day. This has had to be used in prior purges.

I walked up the stairs and through the front door. It was...way too fancy. Glass tables and lighting fixtures everywhere, grey couches, a fucking duve in the bathroom, and multiple bedrooms.

What was I so worried about?

I dropped my bag off in the room that had my name on the door and then saw that the rest of the members also had their own rooms. There was one name that I didn't recognize so I went to the door and knocked. It just slowly opened by itself and I peered in.

There stood, a bubbly redhead. She jumped from being startled. "Oh! Hi, I'm Maddy, the onsite medic. You must be Katie, our Watcher."

I furrowed a brow. "Uh...Yeah, I am. This place is a fucking fortress. Why am I here?"

She laughed under her breath and continued to unpack her items. "Every fortress has a fault, and they always like a backup plan."

They must be Modest!. It was clear that this wasn't Maddy's first purge hired under them. Who else has been under their company that they had hidden here? I've never been on an assignment where they had an onsite medic ready.

"Fair...do you know where the band is at? I'm going to need their help."

"In the kitchen, I believe. I will be down to help as well. My station has already been cleaned and prepared."

That was eerily comforting to hear.

"Okay," I replied and left her to her own devices.

I didn't bother unpacking yet. I probably wouldn't to be honest. Getting comfortable never sits right with me. The voices grew louder and louder as I grew closer to them. It was clear they were having a good laugh despite the circumstances as to why we were all here.

I cleared my throat and they all stopped to look at me. I gave them a small wave. "Hi Niall, Louis, Harry, Zayn, and Liam. I'm Katie, your Watcher for the duration of this purge."

"A girl? They hired a girl, who looks to be younger than me, to keep us safe?" Liam remarked.

"Mate," Niall and Louis breathed and shook their heads.

I chuckled and stalked up to the brunette who currently had his hair looking like 2014 Harry.

"I can't make you like me. In fact, that's not part of my job description. But you should reconsider... My crossbow can manage a mile range and shoot three arrows at once. I can also build a gun in under a minute, have practiced in the art of knife throwing...and I have been known to get my hands dirty in a physical fight. What can you do to keep yourself safe, Liam boy?"

The other four held in their own snickers. Liam didn't flinch in the slightest. If anything, his "tough" exterior only hardened, which just made him look even weaker in my eyes.

"I don't buy it. Modest has to be messing with us."

I smirked. "I know your ass will be calling my name, begging me to protect you, as someone tries to machete your body to pieces. You better start playing nice, mate." I stepped back and gestured to the rest. "Come on, troops. We need to set up the traps."

Luckily, Zayn, Louis, and Maddy quickly picked up on how to set up the bear traps so I put them on that duty while the rest of us stripped the entrances with nails. Of course, I knew the risk of having them set the traps rather than myself, but there was a lot to do before tomorrow morning. An hour before the purge starts, I'll set up the electrical traps. Since there were steel doors that locked down, I planned to set the electric currencies in other spots.

I familiarized myself with the layout of the rich bunker as much as I could and the security camera room. Yes, there was an entire room dedicated to the security cameras. My vault was hidden in four different locations so I'd have something at any given moment.

That evening, we were all chit chatting at the dinner table, eating the grilled chicken and potatoes Niall cooked. This was probably one of the best meals I've had the night before a purge; it was weird to feel so at ease. I knew not to get too comfy.

"So Katie, how old are you?" Louis prompted as he took a swig of his beer.

"Yeah, you seem too familiar with all of this. How long have you been a Watcher?" Niall concurred.

I laughed under my breath and dropped the fork onto my plate. "Uh, well...I'm twenty-four, and this has been my life for as long as I can remember. Both of my parents were Watchers themselves. I started assignments when I was fifteen."

"Woah," Zayn remarked. "How many have you killed?"

"That..." I coughed into my hand and ran a hand through my hair. "Hard to say...I don't like to keep track."

Louis leaned back in his chair and looked down at his lap. "How many do you think you'll have to kill for us?"

I raised my brows in surprise. "With that sort of bounty over your heads, your guess is about as good as mine."

"Fuck," Niall scoffed and jugged the rest of his beer.

"To be honest, I've never felt this confident going into a purge. And we've got Maddy for any injuries, it doesn't seem like her first rodeo either."

She smiled sweetly and shook her head. "It's not, but...I've never actually had to jump in. This bunker has always held up."

"Hear that?" I asked. "It'll be..." I trailed off. I couldn't make any promises, even if our odds did seem to be in our favor. "It'll be just another purge."

That wasn't what I mean to say either. Their facial expressions right now broke my heart.

I clapped my hands as I stood up. "Okay, I say we all get to bed now. It will be an early start."

They all nodded and put their dishes away before going to their assigned rooms. Liam sat on the couch by himself. He didn't join us for dinner, nor did he eat. If he wanted to be a loner during this, then I'll treat him as such.

I padded over and sat down next to him.

"You know I'm only here to help. If you hate me, that's fine, but you need to be a team player for the rest."

Once again, he stayed silent. I truly didn't know what his deal was. I wasn't the best at reading that side of a person's mind. I pursed my lips before I got up and went to my own room.

I slipped into my own pjs before I did a few meditations. I set my alarm for six in the morning, the purge started at eight. This is all I have ever known. Preparing every single year to risk my life for someone else's, to defy against this ridiculous event, and if I died this year, it wouldn't be in vain.

Next part: 24 Hours

[Masterlist]

#one direction #1D #Purge #1D purge #fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #1D fic #one direction fic #1D fanfiction #Niall horan #louis tomlinson #harry styles #zayn malik #liam payne #action #comedy #stupid

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

745

Do you support freedom of speech? Of course, as long as that freedom is not used to advocate homophobia, racism, or sexism, or any form of oppression towards marginalized groups.

Are you ever told you are too opinionated? Yeah. My family loooves to use this word as their main adjective for me as I’ve always been the most vocal, unapologetic and rather radical one in my stances. All my relatives are more conservative and traditional so when it comes to like talking to their peers about me, my being opinionated is always the main thing they take pride in, as in “Robyn isn’t afraid to say her thoughts” or “Robyn has always been very honest” lmao.

There’ll be times I will have an opinion that vastly clashes from theirs, usually politics, and they’ll do something I’ve always found hilarious in that they’ll talk about me behind my back to my mom and tell my mom to monitor my posts more. So ok, I guess it’s nice to have a niece who’s unafraid to speak her mind but when it’s different from how they think, they’ll do whatever it takes to silence me haha.

Do you hold grudges for long? I hold grudges for life.

What's in your garden/backyard? We don’t really have a garden. We just have a couple of large trees and several potted plants to decorate the front of the house but that’s it. For the backyard, I dunno the name for this particular type of flooring but ours is basically composed of stones embedded onto the ground so it’s not very child-friendly. We do have a portion with more plants there and a basketball hoop for my dad to play/exercise with every morning.

Do you own a purple pillow? I don’t think so. My sister probably does as she loves pillows and stuffed toys and loves collecting either.

Do you have a brown blanket? I don’t.

Do you think diamonds, stars or hearts are prettier? I don’t really like any of these as designs.

Is Pink attractive on a man? This conversation died a long time ago lol. Anything can be attractive on anyone as long as they’re comfortable with it lol.

Do you watch political shows? We don’t have those here as politics here are mostly emotionally-charged and regular debates won’t work, coupled with the fact that we have a number of politicians who are merely celebrities or athletes and will be absolutely useless on such shows. News programs are enough politics for us.

When was the last time you visited the bathroom? I dropped off my dog at the shower five minutes ago as my mom had plans to give him a bath.

Do you like flying? When was the last time you were on a plane? Yepppp I really like riding planes. For me it’s always been the biggest indicator that I’m travelling and it gets me all excited. The last time was March last year when we went to Bicol for a short vacation.

Have you ever overflown a bath? No.

Do you appreciate brutal honesty? I know it’s always best to hear it but sometimes it’ll still sting.

Do you know what Runes are? No, I’ve never heard of it.

Do you play any Fantasy/Roleslaying Games? What? No. Fantasy is my least favorite genre of anything.

Do you like salami? Not really. Processed meats have never really sat well with me. < Oh my goodness same. I never liked how they taste or feel like. If someone ordered a pepperoni pizza I’ll always have to put some extra effort to remove the pepperoni on mine, usually to the horror of my friends lmao.

When was the last time you ate meat? We had binagoongan for dinner an hour ago and that mainly consists of pork.

What was the last hot drink you drank? I heated water to make coffee but I usually leave it untouched for half an hour or so for it to cool down, as I hate drinking hot coffee in the summer.

Have your parents met your boyfriend/exes? They have met my girlfriend, but not as my girlfriend.

How about your boyfriend’s parents? Met them? Yes, I’ve met my girlfriend’s parents. They’re a delight, and they’ve been very nice to me from the very beginning.

Do you feel uncomfortable easily? Not really. There are just particular scenarios I don’t like being in, like if I’m running late or if I’m in a class with a prof notorious for screaming at or embarrassing their students.

Is there a girls/boys name you can't stand? Why? Name all you dislike: I don’t actively hate any names but I do have a predisposition to chuckle when I hear names like Karen, Becky, Susan, and Chad because they’re now memes on the Internet hahahaha.

Do you know how to say I love you in at least 4 languages? Sure. I know how to say it in Spanish, English, Filipino, Korean, and French.

What age will you be when you times your current age by two? 44.

Do you find the sound of a cats purr relaxing? It’s cute but I don’t find it relaxing for the most part. I just get the sensation of being scratched or hissed at because cats don’t seem to like me.

Are you in a simple or complex mood? Right now it’s a bit complex. There’s a lot of things going on in my head right now and only surveys can calm me down for the meantime.

Do you know your Mum's first pets name? I’m not sure if it was their first but my mom occasionally talks about their family dog Collar.

Do you like car racing? No, but I have a number of friends who do. JM in particular is super passionate about it and has a lot of F1 stories to tell, and even though I don’t understand most of it or don’t recognize most of the people he talks about, it’s always nice to have someone spill their interests onto you so I listen anyway. :) He once gave each of us a piece of tire that he got from the racetracks when he watched the Singapore Grand Prix last year, it was adorable.

Do you fall asleep with the TV/radio on? I put Netflix on. I used to put YouTube on but its autoplay will go on until I wake up and is a huge battery drainer. Netflix will only play a couple of episodes and stops the show completely when you fail to respond haha.

What is your closest uncle/aunt called? My mom’s cousins. They’re all several years younger than her so they’re a lot hipper than my mom, were actually cool in their youth lmao, and are more understanding and accepting and open-minded about current issues. They’re the first relatives (that aren’t my sister or closest cousin) I came out to, and I appreciate them keeping the secret to this day.

Do you wear underwear to bed? Yep.

Who hugs you the most often? It’s a tie between Gab and Laurice.

Who was the last person you led astray? Uhhhh this sounds awful lol. I’d hate to have this kind of impact on someone.

Who was the last person who led you astray? No one’s done this to me as far as I know.

Would you ever want to be famous? If so, for what? Sure but I wouldn’t exert so much effort just to be famous, like joining a million auditions or contests. It’d be nice if, say, I just had a vlog and it was one of the lucky ones to hit the jackpot and end up having a decent following. I’ve always liked journaling my life and I feel like vlogging is the only method I haven’t dabbled with yet.

Is your phone a pay as go/talk or contract? It’s prepaid, which sounds like pay-as-go anyway. I put in a certain amount of money on my sim card to use for call and text, not the other way around.

What colour is your bedroom carpet? I don’t have one in my room cause my dog would much likely pee on it.

Do you get angry, depressed or nervous more? Nervous.

What is something obvious about you that everyone notices? Probably my teeth, and that my front ones aren’t straight.

Would you ever get a heart tattoo or your back? No.

Do you like Sapphires? The gemstones? Not really. They’re fine, but I wouldn’t go looking for them.

Do you own a torch? I don’t.

Marshmellow - Yum or Yuck? Yuck, in any way they’re incorporated into food. I really dislike the chewy texture and I find them too sweet as well.

What fruit can't you stand? All of them, but the ones I’ve tasted and particularly hated are mango and pineapple.

Is there any smell that turns you on? What? Not really. My girlfriend’s scent sometimes would, but it wouldn’t turn me on every single time I have a whiff of it lmao.

Do you wear more white or black? Black, but I’ve tried to lessen it recently because I feel like I wore black throughout college. I’m glad I at least got to experiment with yellow, olive green, maroon, pink, etc before they cut off the school year.

What age are most your friends? They were mostly born within the years 1997 through 1999.

Do you know anyone autistic? No, not personally.

How about someone bi-polar? Yes.

Are you judgmental? I definitely try not to be, but I’m sure I am. I try to at least check myself when I have judgmental thoughts. < This. I can also be unapologetically judgmental but this is reserved for people who have behaved shittily in public, like if a white person yells at and/or mocks an Asian person on public transport, or if a Karen-type mistreats fast food workers.

What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? My sister’s eyeglasses cleaner.

I give you a kitty - what do you name it? Cinnamon was the first name that came to mind.

Why do you think your enemies don't like you? I don’t have any enemies.

What about you do you think your friends dislike? I get super cranky about other people sometimes and complain excessively about them if they’re not doing their job right.

What do you consider private to you? I’m not private about anything as long as someone asks but I will be most reserved if I have to talk about my depression from Grade 6. Partly because I’ve forgotten a lot of it, partly because it’s simply not worth it to go retracing the bits that I do remember.

#survey #surveys

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helenarlett-rex · 4 years

Text

Goosebumps Review #7

Moving on with reading all the Goosebumps I never got the chance to read as a kid…

(Spoilers)

The Haunted Car

Goosebumps Series 2000 #21

The Haunted Car was originally published as a part of the Goosebumps Series 2000 but was later republished under the normal Goosebumps title when the movie came out. The movie is actually why I decided to read this book.

I had seen the Haunted Car in the movie, and knew what it was I was looking at, but I didn’t actually know anything about it. So I decided to read the book and see what she could do when she wasn’t just driving Slappy around. And I have to say… I am very disappointed…

The story is about Mitchell Moinian, a 12 year old boy who is obsessed with cars to an extent no one who isn’t old enough to drive should ever be. To the point of being completely ridiculous and unbelievable. It’s like R.L. Stine was sitting around one day looking at his old book, Go Eat Worms, and asked himself, “How can I make a main character more ridiculous than this one?” Then he said, “Oh I know! I’ll just make the same character over again but make his obsession something that doesn’t fit his age!”

Mitchell also has a younger brother named Todd who watches too much of The X-Files and thinks there are ghosts around every corner, a short tempered father who tries to repair everything himself even though he is the worst handy man alive, and a mom who has no defining characteristics at all. After being in a car crash in the first chapter and totaling the family car, they are in the market for a new car, which Mitchell takes it upon himself to find seeing as car related things make up the bulk of his vocabulary. And naturally to a 12 year old boy a news paper ad for a “luxury sports car” with no model or manufacturer name but says “mint condition”, “low mileage”, and “name your own price” sounds great. Why wouldn’t it sound like the perfect car to a 12 year old? 12 year olds don’t think about things like, oh I don’t know… this sounds like a stolen car? But apparently people don’t sell stolen cars in this universe because even when he drags his dad out to see this thing his dad doesn’t think there is anything fishy about it either. Even when the the owner practically begs them to take it, gives it to them for a price low enough to make your head spin, and tells them the only condition is they have to drive it off of his property today.

Naturally it’s not a stolen car. It’s a haunted car. That’s why he’s so desperate to get rid of it. But even if you didn’t believe in ghosts, no normal person would take this thing with how fishy the owner was being with it. So I guess he’s lucky the protagonists in Goosebumps books tend to be dumber than a wet log.

As I said, the car is haunted… Haunted by a girl who must have taken lessons on how to be evil from Roy Trenneman off of The IT Crowd.

I’m not joking either. It’s like this car really wants to be evil but it doesn’t know how so it just sits around all the time saying, “I’m evil… I’m so evil.” If I were to place myself in the position of this kid I wouldn’t be scared at all. Not because I’m some kind of tough badass or anything, but because the car wouldn’t have given me a reason to be scared.

Car: “I’m evil… I’m so evil.”

Me: “Yeah, you keep saying that… If you’re not going to kill me already would you turn the AC down? At best you are… mildly annoying…”

This car’s idea of being “so evil” is luring the kid inside, locking the doors so he can’t get out, and then… turning the AC on… Or taking him for a midnight joyride where she drives really fast but always chickens out before actually doing anything dangerous and then safely delivers him back home when she is done with him. It’s comical how bad this car is at being evil. For a while I was telling myself, this car doesn’t want to kill him… she wants to date him. I mean she’s taking him out and showing him a good time, and he is clearly more into cars than any normal human being. Maybe she thinks he’d be up for it.

Well I was half right. She was actually looking for a companion to keep her company. And she did pick him to be that companion. She just wanted to do it by killing him so his spirit would be trapped in the car with her forever. The reason she didn’t just kill him right away is because she is one really, really incompetent ghost. So incompetent that when she finally decided to off this kid she accidentally saves his life instead. Really…

She is out driving around with the kid trapped inside. He says he wants to go home so she says, fine, I’ll kill you by crashing into your house. And when she gets there and finds that the kid’s house is on fire (because his dad should not be allowed to do electrical work) she skids to a stop just outside. Because killing him by crashing into a flaming house would just be too epic for anything this ghost can handle… Then Mitchell points out, hey, you just saved my life. If you hadn’t taken me I would have been in that house when it caught on fire and I would have died. This means the ghost did something good which means that she has to “die for real” now and can no longer possess the car, because… ghost rules? I don’t know…

Either way, everyone is safe, the ghost is gone, the car is just a normal car now, and we don’t even get a twist ending. Well we kind of get a twist, but it’s only a twist if you are Mitchell’s parents… who try to start the car the next morning and can’t, then upon inspection find that the car has no battery. It’s a twist for them because they didn’t believe Mitchell when he tried to tell them the car was haunted. But it’s not a twist for the reader because you already knew the car was haunted. It’s like after reading this entire book about a haunted car, R.L. Stine suddenly jumps out and shouts, “Here’s the twist! The car was haunted!”

Well no duh!

Despite how stupid and disappointing that is, it’s not even my biggest complaint about this book. My biggest complaint is that it takes forever before this haunted car book actually gets around to doing any car haunting. It’s like nothing happens until you reach the second half of of the book. The first half of the book, other than the crash of the first car, and the purchase of the haunted one, is just Mitchell going on about how much he loves cars and his dad trying to fix things but electrocuting himself instead. Even as pathetic as Becka (that’s the Haunted Car’s name by the way) was, she was at least entertaining, and strangely endearing, in just how bad she was at being bad. I would much rather have had more of that than half a book of nothing happening.

But at the very least I now know why Becka never got a chance to actually do anything in the Goosebumps movie. She’s just too incompetent to actually hurt anyone.

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nomadicsurvivor · 5 years

Text

Trapped In a Bunker With a Friend

Day 4 - Trope

Michael was tinkering with some alien tech he had found in the desert. He wasn’t sure how long he had been down in his bunker. His cell phone had died hours before, the old battery not having too much juice to begin with. As is the way with Michael when he falls down the alien-tech-tinkering rabbit hole, time has no meaning, he forgets to eat, and rolled his eyes but accepted it when someone (maybe it was Liz, maybe it was Alex) put a cot down there in the vain hope that maybe he’d remember to sleep occasionally.

As it was, none of those things had happened in over a day, not that Michael would know. Who did know though was one Liz Ortecho, and only because she was basically the exact same when she fell down a similar rabbit hole in her lab. So when she was pulled out of her lab by Kyle Valenti who made a passing comment that no one had seen or heard from Michael in over a day, she knew what she needed to do. She drove over to the Crashdown, filled her car with burgers and fries, made two very strong adult shakes (she’d have to apologize to her dad for finishing off the booze later), and headed towards the junkyard.

Liz pulled open the hatch and yelled down, “Mikey! Come take these shakes from me before I spill them and commit alcohol abuse!”

Michael grumbled about his nickname and, using his telekinesis, floated the shakes down to him. Liz then took the ladder down, holding the bags in her teeth until she was halfway down and felt a force take the bags from her as well. She hadn’t completely hit the ground below with her shoes before Michael was whining.

“Ortecho, what are you doing here?”

Liz rolled her eyes, “Careful, be nice. I will take the food, and more importantly the shakes, back and leave.”

Michael considered his options, then motioned to the chair in a corner for Liz to claim as hers. He tossed one of the bags to her, then floated one of the shakes to her. They were about to cheers each other with their shakes when the hatch above slammed shut, startling them both.

Michael scrambled up the ladder and started pounding on the door, unable to get it open. He groaned in frustration before climbing back down, shaking his head.

“It’s jammed. We’re trapped down here. You wouldn’t happen to have let someone know you were heading this direction, would you?”

Liz shook her head, “Nope. What do you mean it’s jammed? It opened fine for me just now.”

“I think it’s the weather. Since the rain season started, it’s been sticking. I haven’t really messed too much with it as it usually sorts itself out once the humidity goes down. But that hatch is not budging anytime soon.”

Liz pulled her cell out of her pocket and frowned. “No signal.”

Michael shrugged, “Mine’s dead. You wouldn’t happen to have a date with Max or plans with Maria or something later?”

Liz shook her head, took a deep breath, and raised her shake, “Dios mio. Oh well, no use loosing some good boozy milkshakes over this! Cheers Mikey!”

Michael shook his head but smirked and raised his shake, clinking paper cups together.

They fell into a companionable silence as they dug into their burgers. Since working together to save Isobel, two closed off science geeks had found enough commonality with each other to become… dare we say, friends? They still argued and acted like they couldn’t stand each other many times, but other times, took to each other like ducks to water – they understood each other. Not just with their science talk, but with their guards and hesitancy to let people get close to them.

After finishing burgers and picking at fries, Liz looked around the bunker before landing her gaze at Michael.

“So Mikey, what’s the deal with you and Alex these days?”

Michael dropped his head back and said a silent prayer to the ceiling.

“What is with the whole Mikey thing? I let it go in Texas, I let it go in the lab the other week, but is this going to be an actual thing with you?”

Liz rolled her eyes, “Subject avoidance much? OK, I’ll play along for the moment. What is wrong with Mikey? It’s cute!”

Michael stared her down, “Cute?!”

Liz shrugged, “What? Are you telling me you were never called Mikey as a kid? Or Mike? Mick?”

Michael shook his head but kept silent.

Liz zeroed a glare at him, “Spill it Micky.”

Michael stood up, “OK definitely NOT Micky. I am no mouse.”

Liz held her hands up in surrender, “Got it, no Micky Mouse references. Mike?”

Michael shook his head, “I never wanted to be called Mike. It’s almost as bad as being a Chad.”

Both Liz and Michael shivered in disgust at the thought of being a Chad.

“I see your point there. Never Mike. So there you have it then. Mikey!”

Michael threw a fry at her and climbed back up the ladder.

“I can’t do this. I can’t be stuck with you all night if Mikey is all that’s going to be said!”

He then went back to banging on the hatch, trying to get it unstuck. No luck. He climbed back down and watched Liz wander around the bunker, looking at all his bits and pieces, equations on scraps of paper and such. He didn’t worry though, Liz was enough like him that she’d never touch anything without checking with him first. After she had made her way around the room and stopped at the new piece of tech that Michael had lost a day or so of his life to, she looked up at him.

“So what is the big deal with Mikey? You were never called that as a kid?”

He shrugged, “No, I was called it sometimes by different people. It just wasn’t really in an affectionate way if you catch my drift.”

Liz nodded, “Right.” She went to reach out to touch the new tech but paused when Michael surged forward to stop her.

“Well, so then I am definitely going to keep calling you Mikey. We will call it taking the power back and making it an affectionate memory for you. You know I call you that because I like you. We’ve gotten to be friends, don’t you think Mikey?” She smirked at the end.

Michael shook his head in a resigned way, “Affectionate power reclamation of Mikey huh? I’m losing this argument, aren’t I?”

“Pretty much.”

“Right. But on one condition.”

Liz raised her eye brows questioningly, waiting for the condition.

“You are the only person – or alien – that I will ever let call me Mikey. The minute anyone else says it, I am putting a complete ban on that shit.”

Liz thought for a moment. “Only on a return condition.”

Michael rolled his eyes but waited.

“You have to tell me what is going on with you and Alex.”

Michael blushed a bit and looked down at the work top. He had hoped he had successfully dodge that topic earlier.

“Your guess is as good as mine. He turns up, we hook up, he takes off. I run into him, he flirts, then turns cold. I get frustrated and act like an ass, giving him a good excuse to leave again. But the sex is pretty epic.”

Liz groans, “Michael! I did not need to know that part! You two are my friends!”

Michael chuckled, “You asked!”

Liz shook her body out and took another large slurp of her milkshake. “I regret that condition, Mikey! Now get us un-stuck down here!”

Michael laughed, “Yeah, about that. I don’t think that door is budging til at least sunset when the metal cools down a bit and contracts a bit. The humidity is fucking with the hinges too much. Get comfy.”

Liz curled back up in the chair while Michael went back to tinkering with the new tech he had found. The companionable silence fell over the bunker again.

“So Mikey, what it that exactly?”

“I have no idea. I found it in one of the caves that backs up to the pod cave. I’ve been cataloging what lights up or glows depending on where my hand hovers, but haven’t stared pushing anything that looks button-push-like yet.”

Liz nodded, “Makes sense. Have you tried using your tk to rotate it around to see if it reacts being on a different angle?”

Michael rubbed his hands together at the idea, ”Nah, but that’s a good idea. I was also thinking of seeing what it would do if a drop of water or something ran down this channel here on the side.”

Liz stood up and joined Michael at the table, taking a closer look.

“Oh that’s a good thing to try. Maybe see what sand would do too.”

Michael scribbled these ideas down so they wouldn’t forget anything.

Liz looked over at him, “Mikey, I’m glad we got stuck down here.”

Michael grinned a bit, “You’re not too bad yourself Ortecho.”

Liz gave him a small shove, “But come another couple hours, Mikey, you better hope that hatch opens, or there will be nothing friendly or affectionate about any of the names I will be calling you then.”

#mgweek19 #guerinweek19 #roswell new mexico fanfic #michael guerin #liz ortecho #michael has a friend #stuck in a bunker

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rcris123 · 5 years

Text

The buck fathers

“Chloe, look out!”

Too late, the car swerves out of the road, into the ditch. There’re no airbags in this thing so both of them end up slamming with their entire bodies into the board. Head bumps against the windscreen.

“Ow...” That’s one hell of a headache if she’s ever had one. “Ow, ow ow ow...” Chloe tries to pull back slowly. “Max?...” Panic. “Max!”

She rushes over to shake her friend awake, but to no real avail. She seems to be breathing though. Shit, shit, shit-

The other car stopped as well. Two men came out, running towards them. One’s got a stupid cowboy hat.

“You okay there?” The cowboy dude bend through the window, then grimaced when seeing Max like she was. “Shit... Buck, call 911!”

“On it already.”

“Can you get out, miss?” The man said, extending a hand.

“I... Think so.” Chloe tried to pull herself out of where she got crashed to.

“They’re on their way here!” the other, ‘Buck’, beckoned, somewhere between her car and their own, just putting his phone back in his pocket.

With just a little help, a bit of a struggle, heart running a minute a mile, Chloe got out of the wreckage and that’s when realization sunk in, faster than the ache in her ankle and knee:

“Shit... Shit shit! Fuck! Fuck no...” She hit a stone with her foot, pursing her lips and rolling her fists when the bristle pain shot up through the leg. And let’s not even mention feeling like she’ll fall over ‘cause her head was as big as a bowling ball and twice as heavy, hurting like it just came out of the goddamn track after hitting all the pins.

That was all she got left of Arcadia. That car and Max.

The car’s ruined...

The cowboy, a massive dude with a real thick southern - or maybe it was midwestern – accent, came nearer, hands raised as if trying to pet her. She’s no animal.

“Miss?...”

But she doesn’t pull away when the man tries to put one of those hands on her shoulder. She could use the comfort, well at least that’s what she thinks...

“Just call me Chloe...”

“I’m Arthur. Arthur Castellanos. You a’right there? Bumped ye’r head or somethin?”

“...I’ll live-”

The somewhat silence that settled in after the crash got busted by the cries of a small child.

“Daddy?” A girl, maybe 10 or 12 pokes her head out of the van the two strangers got out of. “Isaac’s...”

“Want me to check up on him?” Arthur shouts over to ‘Buck’. Guess they were partners and that was one weird fucking petname.

“No, no, I got this.” The brunet heads back into the car. There’s some mumbling, then the man gets out of the car with the baby.

She can’t help it; she doesn’t have the nerves not to talk about something: “So... urhm, that your kid?”

“Yea-”

A muffled sound from the car, movement: “Chloe-”

Sprained ankle and all Chloe jumps towards the car, towards her one and only thing in this world. “Max!” Mister Cowboy Arthur follows, arms raised as if trying to stop them from doing something.

“Now you take it easy, miss. There’s an ambulance on the way here.” He talks, but between them, and Max still tries to stand up. A sigh: “Can you get out?”

“Yeah.” Why was her voice so weak, drained. It reminded her of that crazy week back- well she can’t call it a home now. Poof! One tornado and it vanished.

“Lemme help ya’ out.” Arthur huffs, arms like tree branches stretching inside to get Max out. And there she was.

“Max!” She’s not even fresh out of the wreckage when Chloe presses her within her arms: “Max, oh, Mad Max.” She was scared.

“Chloe... I’m fine...”

“We’re sill gettin’ the two of you checked by that ambulance.” Arthur said; now that was a dad tone if she ever heard one. Kinda familiar in a way.

“Thank you, Arthur, thank you.” Chloe said, and soon enough both of them get seated in the shade of a tree by the side of the road. It was one of those bright, hot summer days when, if you put as much as a pinky into sunlight, you’ll get burns.

The baby’s still crying and Arthur’s gone to check up on it. She’s guessing it’s the heat and the fact that they stopped for so long so suddenly. She’s feeling sorry. She almost ran them over, and then crashed Max into a ditch. Her head falls in her palms. Really sorry. She can’t even do driving right. Fingers claw at the scalp.

Baby switches dads, and she can still hear them talking.

“We should be calling their parents.” ‘Buck’ said.

“Shouldn’t we let ‘em call ‘em themselves?”

“Maybe we should wait for the ambulance before that.”

“I guess... Did it say how long till it’s gonna get here?”

“No...”

Baby seems to have calmed down under the gentle rubs of those big ass hands: “Is Lily a’right?”

And as on cue, girl pokes her head out, springs out of the car and clings to the ‘Buck’ dad; man bends down and picks her up: “It’s okay, Lily.”

“They okay, Daddy?”

“Guess so. Maybe we should give them some water. Wanna come with me?”

And Chloe dares a look at Max, slumped against the tree, staring back at her:

“Are we okay, Max?”

“Can’t say we haven’t been through worse-” slight smile; Maxine’s gotten her lips busted.

Red lights. The ambulance.

“C’mon up, Mad Max!” Chloe shouldn’t be jumping up like she did, but there she was to assist her girlfriend.

“What happened?” the paramedic asked.

“Misses got in an accident.” Arthur replied.

“And you were witness?”

“Yeah. They were goin’ fast and swerved into the side of the road trying to avoid us. We were comin’ from the opposite direction.”

“They’re conscious so we’re going to ask them a few questions- Miss?”

“Caulfield. Maxine.” Damn, she admired her courage.

They were asked to walk for a bit, had their blood pressure and heart-rate taken and all the other crap, allergies and the like. Then they were asked to phone their relatives. Max... Where would she be without her- Well obviously in a grave.

But what if that was better...

Now they had to tell those paramedics that she was an orphan. Well Max did, and she was also obligated to call her parents; told them they’ll be reaching Seattle tomorrow. She did all the legwork. Well... Max had the plan. Chloe just sort of tagged along to it all. It’s been about a week since it all happened. They tried calling Mom, Joyce, for a few days. At first there seemed to be some hope that she might pick up. No... The phone battery died about 3 days into their journey.

She cried that night, in the car. They had to stop. She cried all night. Didn’t even remember when she fell asleep. Max even tried to convince her to drive herself that day. Not happening.

They were heading to Seattle; hoping Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield will kindly take her in. Well... not with all those kisses and the possibility of a naughty one- Did she just think that... Yeah, regardless, it didn’t sound like it was gonna happen.

But Chloe got nothing left and this was probably her best chance at anything ever.

She fucked it all up this time around. If... if only Max chose-

The paramedics let them go, blood wiped away and a cold compress applied to Chloe’s ankle. In the meantime tho’, the guys heard all they said, and Max told them about Arcadia, ‘cause she thought they surely heard on the news about the tornado. They did...

“You can spend the night at our place, and we’ll drive you tomorrow into Seattle. We stay in Olympia City.” The brunet said; Arthur was seating the baby back inside the car.

Did they have a choice?

“I mean sure...” Chloe said, and with that they hopped in the car. The girl got in Arthur lap.

“Oh. This is Lily. And that’s Isaac back there.” Kid fell asleep, chubby cheeks smooshed against the side of the baby chair. “I’m Sebastian. And Arthur. My husband.”

“Hello~” Arthur greeted, with a silly, long, drawn out o at the end. Sebastian smiled at that. And well Chloe had to as well; there’s something about seeing married gays that kinda gave her hope...

“So we ain’t going to the Nes Percy Park today?” the little girl, Lily, said. She meant the Nez-Perce National Park, right? Jesus they were on vacation and Chloe’s ruined it for them.

“We’re gonna go tomorrow after we leave the ladies back in Seattle.”

“Yes!”

“Ah, Chloe, right?” Arthur called back. “What’s your friend called.”

“Maxine, but you can call me Max. Caulfield.”

“Chloe Price.” She added; now she didn’t think saying her surname will leave her feeling bitter...

The ride back to Olympia city was one surprise after another. Firstly, the dudes were unironically listening to Kesha and Lady Gaga like it was the best thing ever. The Johnny Cash and other country music she can’t place. But there was that one guitar solo that her dad used to listen to. They sang to it. And maybe for the first time in a long while Max saw her really smile; she started singing too, why the fuck not. Then the house came into view. Well, house is an understatement. The husbands had a whole fucking domain; ranch and all. Arthur proudly announced that they built the stables themselves, like the chicken coops and most of the garden. They had 5 fucking horses, goats and, obviously, chickens.

Chloe jumps straight outta the car to stare at the large, lavender lined, fields. Beside the house were tucked some bee hives and if the thought of insects wasn’t creepy the fact that they got themselves home-made honey simply had her in awe. Dude. What kind of magical fairy gay fathers did she stumble upon.

“Woah.” Yeah she couldn’t help it; leaned over the railing of one of the pastures. It stretched for so long! And indeed 5 horses grazed peacefully not too far off.

Maybe today wasn’t so bad...

She caught herself smiling before one of the horses, one with a brown head, fixed her attention on her and came towards her. Others noticed too but didn’t move.

“E-easy there.” The animal poked her massive snout beyond the fence, lips pouted as if sniffing.

“Chloe!?” Max sounded scolding; “Did you even ask?”

“It’s a’right!” Arthur beckoned from the car, unpacking some of the essentials. Sebastian was talking to a middle-aged lady on the porch; she was probably going to take care of the animals while they were away. “I could show ‘em to you later if you want to!”

“Of course!” Chloe was in heaven-

Dog!

Came running like a bullet and hopped up on her, tongue out, trying to lap at her face.

“Aa-!”

“Copper!” Dog perked its head back to Sebastian. “Down boy!”

Chloe tried her best: “Down boy, down!”

Dog listened, pranced back on all fours, wagging his thick tail side to side with such power it moved his entire butt.

A whistle from Arthur: “Com’ere, boy.” Damn that accent carried over in the way he said boy, but with that dog was off to it’s owner. Cowboy wasted no time bending down to bend the fluffster, the praises carrying over to her.

“Chloe? Max? What’d you like for dinner?” Sebastian had his hands on his hips; she just noticed that the man was dressed in a flannel that was now wrapped around his waist leaving the man in a tank-top. Damn what a dad...

No, actually, all of this.

Lily poked her head out of the house: “Shrimp Fajitas!”

“Seconded!” Arthur said. “Some fries and guacamole? Think we still have a couple o’shallots.”

“The avocado’s in the bags.” Sebastian said, those last lines were between themselves.

“Yup, gotcha.”

“So’s everyone down for shrimp fajitas?”

“Hell yes!” Chloe resonated, sprinting down the pasture to back home- nope, not sprinting, her ankle hurt lie a bitch.

But she gets to the house eventually, and inside: sunflowers on the table in the living, a cat on the couch and the kitchen being warmed up for dinner.

Of course Max helped with the dinner, or tried to, ‘cause they sorta let her on the back burner. Chloe was watching in awe from the couch. The girl plopped on her lap at one point, asked if she was alright, complimented her hair. Then her and Max tried to braid it. Lily tried on her beanie. It was too big for her head but it suits her. Somewhat.

The all cooked, dinner got served up. Arthur went upstairs to feed the baby, and play with him until he was all exhausted and ready for sleep. Sebastian informed the two of them that Max will be sleeping upstairs in Lily’s bedroom while Chloe will get the spare room downstairs. And the food was fucking delicious, tasty and juicy, with a little beat of heat in each bite. The guacamole too, you could tell it wasn’t one of those store-bought kinds that tasted just a bit too sweet, just a bit too addicting.

And it’s the fullest she felt all week. The two of them have been living off fast-food and snacks bought from gas stations at 2PM for the last past few days... Always on the road... And today, despite losing the car... she kinda felt the happiest she has been in a while... Like, things were gonna look up...

Max found herself playing with the cat, unexpectedly named, drumroll, Cat, and she watched. Lily went upstairs, looking for a boardgame, but instead came down with Arthur. It was getting pretty late.

“We gotta get the horses in the stables, wanna come with?” Arthur asked the girls.

Lily already bolted out the door.

“Isaac’s sleeping?” Sebastian intervened, looking up from the sink where the dishes just got done.

“Not really. He’s still a bit rowdy.”

“Should I put in a round of laundry?”

“I ain’t thinkin’ we got any? We did the last batch yesterday ‘cause the trip.”

Sebastian bobbed his head, hands on hips. “I’ll figure something out.”

“ ‘Course you will.” A peck on the lips as the cowboy parted from his husband to go rustle some horses.

What can she say, Chloe got all excited about it: getting to witness the gay wild west up close and personal. Man seriously just went about rounding horses up with a few whistles. All 5 of them came right up, ears perked and eyes all doe-like, snouts extended. Both Max and Chloe got designated halter holders as Arthur put them around the horses’ heads one by one. Chloe got the courage to try herself, on the little horse, the pony. She did it! ... after apologizing for bending the animal’s ear. Arthur laughed though. Presented them all.

“The black one’s Ash.” That one was the first to go into the stable. “He was a racer; got in a accident: caught in the chute at the start of a race.” And the poor thing has one big scar on the shoulder and some smaller ones on the neck and cheek. “He’s a bit jumpy ‘cause o’that but he’s a real good loyal horse and I have a hunch he’ll just die for Sebastian ‘cause he’s lovin’ that man so much.” Arthur caressed the dark head before taking the halter off and closing the stall up.

Then outside again for the next horse: “The big brute’s Victoria.” Well she really was big, almost all white, but looked much gentler than Ash. “She was my first horse, even before I met him. Poor ol’ girl’s seen some stuff.”

Next horse; the pony: “She’s prob’ly the most expensive horse we got on ‘ere. Lily’s competition horse: Princess. And she lives up to the name.” Chloe got the sense that she was a spoiled little thing with a bit of a temper. She looked the part.

Up next the horse that came and greeted Chloe as she jumped out of the car: “Morrowind-”

“Wait. Like the game?” Max asked.

“Was Sean’s idea.” Who the hell was Sean? “Made Sebastian play The Elder Scrolls, but we couldn’t name‘er Skyrim.”

Max snorted: “Well why not?”

“Well you try riding a Mustang named Skyrim.”

“Woah, A Mustang? Like a wild horse?”

“Yeah, got her from the Bureau of Land Management. ‘bout last June I think. And the one left in the pasture’s Whitehide; also from the Bureau.”

They still played that board game with Lily upon re-entering the house, up until the little girl more or less fell asleep in Max’s lap. She was to sleep with the dad.

And Chloe was to go downstairs. Spare room. And that’s exactly what it looked like: all filled up with trinkets and older stuff and... workout equipment. But there she goes, sneaking by the heavy machinery and under the yellow blanket of the bed there, trying to find a pose that felt nice. Head up, nope, on the side, still nope, on the belly, arms dangling from the side- wait what’s that.

Square, plastic, but paper thin- cigarettes.

Chloe sat straight up. Men smoked. Oh yes, yes, yes. She pulled one out and lit it up; she still got the lighter with her. Cranked up the window as well. Oh how she missed these. She could of used some of these this entire week, damn.

Yeah today wasn’t so bad. Today wasn’t bad at all.

She got no place to go. Maybe she can ask of them to stay here. She’d like to.

She woke up to the soft strumming of a guitar. She thought it was a dream, but no, someone was actually playing the guitar; out on the porch. Baby gurgling. She got up to peek out the window; she could understand the lyrics now:

“Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys- Don’t let’em play guitars and ride’em old trucks-”

The front door swung open as Arthur got out with the bags he got out yesterday. They still had a holiday... and her and Max still needed to reach Seattle.

“Should I wake ‘em up? Don’t wanna drag the kids to Seattle. Isaac’s been awake-” a sigh. And for a moment Chloe felt like an intruder in this house.

“Let them sleep, Arthur, they had a rough day yesterday.”

Chloe watched the man seat down by his guitar-baby-holding husband, arm wrapping around the shoulders.

“Guess just anxious. Girls’ been through lot... barely survivin’ that tornado in Arcadia. That Chloe lost her family back there...” a sigh.

“We’re gonna get them to Max’s parents in Seattle. It’s gonna be fine.”

Chloe’s hands shook on the window sill. A huff. She went back to the cigarette pack she hid under the bed. She didn’t dare open up the window again.

Two cigarettes.

She heard someone come downstairs, thought it was Max so she opened up the door.

“Mornin’!” it was Arthur, grand smile on his lips.

Then a wheezed breath and a cough.

Oh shit...

Another cough.

“Can... Can you open up a window, Chloe.” And another cough. “Please.”

She rused to do so; clumsy hands didn’t do a good job at it, but she tried... Arthur leaned over towards the window, taking in some really deep breaths. She could hear Sebastian coming in from outside too.

“E-everything alright?” she dared ask; the coughing seemed to be gone.

“Yeah...” A drawn out inhale that sounded loaded with mucus, followed by a spit out the window. “I’ll be a’right...” A scratch of the beard.

Sebastian let Isaac roam the room:

“You smoked in here?” scolding.

“I...”

“Buck-” Arthur held his husband back. “It’s a’right. He ain’t known.”

The scowl that covered Sebastian’s face mellowed: “Go get some fresh air.”

Some more dried up coughs while trying to get the words out: “Will do. Gotta feed the horses.” And the man stumbled out.

“I’m sorry. I’m... I’m so so so sorry.” Chloe tried.

“Those were my cigarettes, right?” Sebastian cut her up.

“What?”

“The ones under the bed...”

“Yeah... I shouldn’t have-”

Sebastian listened, bobbed his head. “Help me open up the windows.”

And that they did; the man took the remaining packet and thre it in the bin. There was a story behind that... and Chloe’s not sure if she wants to know it. Dude’s all snappy because of it now. But once Max’s awake, they fix themselves some breakfast and set out to Seattle. It’s a few hour’s drive, depending on traffic.

“Max...” They’re almost there, the skyscrapers breaking the horizon line with their ‘magnificence’. “I don’t think I can stay with your parents.”

“You know they won’t be mad at you for what happened.”

“I know, I know...”

“You’re not a burden, Chloe, okay?”

“It’s not that...” she snapped back. Sebastian gazed at them in the rearview mirror.

Silence.

“Is... Urhm, Sebastian... Do you think I can make it up to you? I...” This was so selfish of her, but she can’t help it: “I’ll stay just a few more days until I can make enough money to afford a place. I’m-”

“You’re always welcome at our place.”

“What?- Wait. Really?...”

“You need a place to stay, of course.”

Safe to say she might have gotten adopted by fairy husbands. Oh, did she mention they were badass detectives too?

#sebthur #arthur morgan #sebastian castellanos #chloe price #max caulfield #lily castellanos #THE AU OF THE AGES I HAD MOST FUN WRITING THIS wekjhrwkejhrjkwehrjkhjewrjk

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Second Home

You get into the college of your dreams, but your parents aren’t on board. Your other father figure, Sebastian, steps in.

“Who is…?” You wondered as you reached into your back pocket, pulling out your phone. Normally you wouldn’t use your phone during a shoot, but most people knew not to contact you during a shoot anyway. You were an intern for Marvel, a director’s assistant, and you’d only gotten it because of your uncle who wasn’t really your uncle, Sebastian. Your parents had been friends ever since college, and it was safe to say that you considered Sebastian as a second father. He was your second home, essentially. Especially since you didn’t get along with your parents that well. You just had different views on just about everything, and you fought constantly. You were hoping to get away from them for college in New York. But the problem was they hated the idea; they didn’t even want you to go to school in Atlanta. They didn’t want you away from them, at all, because they were just so controlling over you.

Your admissions decision to New York University

Your heart started beating so rapidly in your chest that you were sure the director could hear it from five feet away. You were anxious beyond anxious; statistics said you would get in, but you knew that their film school was particularly hard to get into. You quickly opened the email, scanning through the first half of the first sentence, and your heart stopped for a minute. We are pleased to offer you admission…

“Sebastian!” You called out. He was standing over by the set, scrolling on his phone, and you waved him over.

“What? What are you so excited about?” He asked with a little smile.

“I got in! I got into NYU!” You spoke so loudly that everyone else could hear you. Most of them just smiled and nodded your way, but Sebastian was the first to pull you into his arms and mess up your hair, making you laugh.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so proud of you!” He replied with a grin, finally letting you go. “Show me the email!” You showed him your phone and his smile only got wider. “You got a scholarship, too? That’s amazing!”

“I know,” you said, “I can’t believe it. I really thought I wouldn’t get in, because you know, last semester’s grade wasn’t that good, but…”

“I knew you could do it. I’m proud of you, kid.” You smiled, taking a screenshot of the email, and sent it to your best friends. You were completely overjoyed, but it all faded when a notification from your parents popped up, asking when you’d be home. Your parents. Dammit. You were going to have to deal with them, weren’t you?

“There’s a problem, though,” you said. Sebastian looked down at you, confused. “My parents. They don’t want me to go anywhere, much less New York.”

“It’s not like I’m not there for you,” he shrugged. “Just tell them you got a scholarship. I’m sure they’ll understand. It’s a fantastic school. You’re so much better off there than anywhere else.” You nodded. He knew them better than you did. Maybe he was onto something.

You finished what they needed you to, ran to give the producers something in their office, and started the drive back home. Luckily, there was traffic and you were able to have some time to think. You practiced saying it to them multiple times, but you never got far before you were too afraid to keep talking. Finally you pulled into the driveway and walked in, not expecting them to be at the kitchen table already. They were silent, which was scary, and you tried your best to give a poker face.

“Hey,” you said with a small smile, putting your bag down. They were looking at a letter. It had the NYU heading. And you froze. You thought they were only emailing you, not sending you a real letter, because that’s what you’d checked on the application. You stopped in your tracks and tried to calm yourself before…

“So when were you going to tell us that you directly disobeyed us?” Your dad said. He was too calm. “We told you not to apply to the school because you’re not going.”

“I got a scholarship,” you mumbled. “I was going to tell you when I got here, they just weren’t supposed to send real mail…”

“Because you were going to hide it from us?” Your mom asked.

“No, I…” Your voice cracked. “I wasn’t trying to hide it. I was just going to figure out a plan before I told you, so maybe…”

“You’re not going,” your dad said. “Period.”

“I have to, I got one of the biggest scholarships they offer. Which, most parents would consider a great achievement.” Your dad scoffed.

“A scholarship for what? Film? Do you realize how many…”

“Yes, I realize, but going to NYU would be…”

“You’re not going.”

“I’m going.”

“Not without our financial support. Which we won’t be giving you,” your mom cut in. “If you accept this offer, Y/n, you can consider yourself no longer a part of this family.” You turned away and grabbed your bag again, just walking away. You knew they would act like this, but part of you was hoping they wouldn’t. Part of you was hoping they would surprise you and be cool with it, especially after you said you were planning to find a way to fund yourself. And, besides, you had a few thousand saved up from your internship so far.

You walked out of the house and got in your car and started driving. You didn’t know where, and by the time you stopped in the parking lot of your high school you didn’t even remember how you got there. Your parents had called so much that your phone battery had drained to almost death. They didn’t dare call the police on you for something so stupid, considering all you had was your backpack and your car. You turned off your car, locked it even though you were completely alone in the parking lot, and sat there until you lost every ounce of control you had left. You cried, you screamed, you beat on your steering wheel and accidentally hit the horn. You turned the car onto accessory and realized that it was almost 11. You checked your phone again to see that it was on ten percent, and your parents had texted you saying just not to bother coming home unless it’s to move out. You just ignored it, but what you didn’t ignore was a text from Sebastian.

What happened? Your parents called and said you ran away? Are you okay????

Yeah, you replied. Went to school. He started typing but didn’t give you a response. Your phone died right after, too, so if you did get a response it didn’t go through. You were completely and totally out of it, drained from the fight, when a familiar car pulled up and next to yours. It was Sebastian’s car. You flipped the unlock button and watched as he slid into the passenger seat beside you, waiting for you to say something.

“They found the letter,” you said to him. “And they said not to come home unless it’s to move out.” Sebastian sighed, offering you his arm, and he hugged you from across the console.

“I’m sure…”

“No, they meant it.” You wanted to hand him your phone, but it was dead. And, of course, your charger was in your room. “I don’t even know what to do. I had a plan, I could make it work even if it was a shit ton of loans, but… They weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I’m sorry,” he said in reply. “But what do you mean? They kicked you out? Completely just kicked you out?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess they’re shittier than they let on,” he scoffed. “Come home with me. We’ll move you in, I have the guest bedroom. If you need to stay with me in New York, you can too. You’re going to NYU if it kills you and me.” You smiled a little bit.

“You don’t have to, I’m sure one of my friends…”

“You’re family. That’s what family does.” He nudged your shoulder a little. “Come on. You can follow me. We can go back and get your stuff when your parents are at work tomorrow, I’ll get us a longer lunch break.” You nodded, wiping tears away from your face with your sleeve, and watched as Sebastian left you to get back into his own car. You followed him back to his house and walked in behind him, only realizing how tired you were when you saw the guest bedroom. Sebastian said he was going to make some dinner and get you an extra charger, leaving you for a few minutes.

“Hey, dinner’s…” Sebastian walked in carrying a charger, only to find you asleep on the bed. You didn’t even take your shoes off. You were just so tired of dealing with everything that you’d just fallen asleep. So he did what any surrogate parent would do – he covered you up and let you sleep, just grateful that you were safe and sound.

A/N: For the anon who asked for Seb to take the reader in after they run away. I loved writing this one!

#sebastian stan x teen!reader #sebastian stan fluff

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