#testing out cap comic stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

intheshadowsbehindyou · 7 months

Note

Could you do the mercs with an s/o who is like- almost comically short?

Oh boy wouldn’t it be a shame if this anon asked me to do a size difference nsfw headcanons one next? Wink wink.

Mercs with an S/O who’s a small menace to society

WARNING: Older bigger men bullying the ever living shit out you. (kinda hot though?)

Scout:

- Scout will not hesitate to make fun of you at every given moment. He’s a decently tall dude so he’ll manhandle you a lot. Holding you in his arms like a personal teddy bear. Overall walking around with you in his arms.

- You bite his arms when you’re bored and he flinches and goes “Ow! What are you? A fuckin’ goblin?!” (Doesn’t he know? The smaller you are, the closer you are to hell.)

- “I could probably slug you into the stratosphere y’know.” He says. You don’t want to test that theory.

- When he’s upset he’ll pick you up, go into his quarters and lay there with you in his arms. Just like the aforementioned teddy bear analogy. If you’re screeching and biting like a fucked up chihuahua that doesn’t deter him.

————————————————————————

Soldier:

- Keeps giving you petnames like “Boot.” “Little one.” “Rat bastard.” (Ignore that last one.) and cheesy shit like that. Treats you how a rich middle aged white woman would treat her teacup pig. You’re being strapped to his back in a baby carrier while he rocket jumps.

- Gets incredibly rough with you on purpose. He likes seeing your squeaks and angry reactions. This guy definitely has a height difference thing. Throws you at enemy lines at like mach 20 knowing full well you’ll shred them like a fucking gremlin. Or stuffs you into his rocket launcher. Pick your evil.

- Lies about you being younger in order to pay less in restaurants. He somehow gets away with this 90 percent of the time. Spy is kind of envious that he didn’t even think of that.

- “NO! WAIT! DONT SHOOT! HANGFIRE! CHILD ON BATTLEFIELD!” He raises you above his head. You’re unbelievably pissed. You’re a grown ass adult. But the enemy lines somehow hesitate which abides him time to blow everyone up. He has no reason to be this smart about your height.

——————————————————————-

Demoman:

- The first time he saw you he burst out laughing. Really hard. Like nearly fell over and shit. He couldn’t stop laughing like actually. It took him days to even approach you properly and finally call you adorable.

- Picks you up when you can’t reach something off the top shelf and instead of helping you get it, he just sits you atop the shelf and leaves you there. They have to call either Heavy or Sniper in order to get you down.

- You take advantage of your height and perch on his shoulders like a parrot. The other mercs don’t understand why Demoman has a pet gremlin.

- “Er’ is my crotch goblin Y/N. They’re gonna bite your dick off if ye cap this point lad!” You can’t say you disagree with that.

————————————————————————

Engineer:

- A romantic partner whose tinier than him? Sign him the fuck up. Cradles you like a baby and kisses your head. Bounces you on his lap to soothe you. Expect a lot of sitting outside on the rocking chair at night while he rocks you in a blanket.

- You make grabby hands to him for uppies and he feels like he’s not allowed to say no. “Aww, sugarplum…” He cooes, setting down whatever he was working on and lifting you up into his arms. He might tickle your tummy if you’re fine with that :)

- Picks you up by the scruff of your uniform like a mother cat when you’re misbehaving. He will stare in amusement if you struggle.

- “Careful outside on the Badlands, darlin.. Never know when one of ‘em damn condors might be circling you.” You can’t decide if you want to kiss this man or kill him.

———————————————————————-

Heavy:

- You’re literally so small he’s scared of accidentally stepping on you or something. Always has to wiggle his way around you in the base corridors and mutter what you assume to be an apology in Russian. What you don’t know is that he’s actually cursing out the Administrator for hiring such a tiny Merc. What if you get squashed by falling debris or something?

- HE PICKS YOU UP WITH ONE HAND. YOU ARE IN HIS FUCKING FIST. YOU ARE BEING HELD LIKE AN ICE CREAM CONE.

- Treats you like a fucking stress ball. scoops you up in his hands and squishes your cheeks. Lays you on his lap like a small kitten belly up. No amount of biting or awful demon noises will ever convince him to do otherwise. Chuckles lovingly at your tiny anger. “Little, little, little. Tiny like the ant.” He baby talks you.

- Due to your height it’s impossible to bother him. Unlike the others. You can gnaw at his ankles and scratch at his chest but he remains unmoved like a large boulder. Threatens to splat you against the wall like one of those rubber toys and turn you into a pancake.

——————————————————————-

Pyro:

- In his point of view you’re actually terrifying. He doesn’t know why. But you stand out from the rest in their beloved Pyroland. You’re a creature from the primordial depths of hell that has come to eat their soul. You’re uncanny as shit.

- When they meet you for the first time it takes for godamn ever for the Mercs to finally figure out why Pyro was behaving so erratically and out of character. Engineer finally convinces poor Pyro to speak to you and it doesn’t end up in vain. You’re actually a pleasant scary monster.

- Spies don’t scare them. Pyro can kill spies with no effort. But you? Holy shit. Sometimes he doesn’t hear you come up behind them and this usually leads to Pyro spontaneously crying because you startled them. (Your team’s Spy is VERY envious of this.)

- You think this is great! You decide to play a prank on them by crawling on all fours down the dark hallway. Pyro looks like a deer in headlights. All tensed up like a cat attempting to look bigger. Two seconds later the entire base is on fire. You have to explain yourself to the other Mercs how this happened and it’s embarrassing.

- Whenever you kill someone on the battlefield it’s horrific shrieking mixed in with fleshy eating sounds.

—————————————————————-

Sniper:

- Calls you stuff like “Baby bear.” Mostly because he purposely holds you like a mama koala in his camper van’s bed and in the sniper nests. You cling to his lap and listen to his heartbeat while he scopes out the window.

- Same as scout to some extent. Carries you around wherever he goes and holds you like a plush doll. “Easy there on the lil’ daggers, mate.” You keep digging into his skin to hold steady.

- Growls at you when you bite him. Something about you both is evil and animalistic. Bites you back on your “scruff” when you bother him too much. He wants to shake you around in his teeth like a fucking chewtoy but he knows full well that might accidentally kill you. Has straight up cute aggression around you.

- Sniper your furry is showing. Helen, get yo fuckin dog bitch.

——————————————————————

Medic:

- “Well it seems you stopped growing at a certain age. That typically is due to genetics and other factors.” He says after looking at X-rays of your finger bones. Tracing his finger over the image of your growth plates as he squints to see better. He fixes his glasses back up on his nose and scratches his chin.

- He gives you a mischievous side smile. It’s unsettling. He secretly finds the size difference incredibly attractive. He tells you to take the lead vest off and waves his hand dismissively when you question his creepy expression. “What?! It is just my usual smile. I always look like this.”

- You’re not convinced. You take the vest off and straighten your team uniform a bit to get yourself situated. Without warning he grabs you by the wrist as you attempt to leave. “Ah-ba-ba-ba! I didn’t say you could go yet.” He pulls you against his chest. Forcibly. His natural heat was causing your heart beat out of your chest. He kneeled down and wrapped his arms around you. Cupping a hand over your mouth. You couldn’t move.

- The way you were (in theory) powerless was exhilarating for him. He placed his free hand on your chest and marveled in your heartbeat. Really? That’s all he wanted? Medic let out a long pleasured sigh. “Oh, that’s gooood.” He feels like he could potentially hold your tiny heart in a cute little decorated specimen jar but that would kill you, sadly. Can’t have that.

———————————————————————

Spy:

- Has unimaginable amounts of trauma from his father figure and you help him cope with said trauma a lot by being small. He deeply regrets passing by the chance of raising Scout. That in-and-itself was also a traumatic experience for him. Whenever it isn’t romantic lovey dovey adult time you lay in his arms and he looks over your adorable small body with adoration in his eyes.

- He rubs your small cheek and although he’s still frowning like always — you know full well this man is losing his mind on the inside. This was oddly healing for him. He felt butterflies in his chest as he gave you the love that his family never gave him. Jesus christ, somebody get this man a silicone baby or some shit. And a therapist. Mostly a therapist.

- He has no idea how to baby you to be honest. No fucking clue and he isn’t great at this. He does what he’s seen people do before in public. Wrap you in a blanket and pats your back. He says nothing as he does this. “There’s a scared little boy behind that mask isn’t there?” You ask him lovingly.

- He avoids eye contact after you say that. Looking away shamefully. His mouth twitches. You put your head under his chin contently.

- He stalks you and monitors you on the battlefield. Ready to stab the ever living crap out of anyone who overpowers you. In a particularly rough situation with an enemy heavy he risks his own life to backstab the opponent. You batter him for being too bold and exclaim that he could’ve killed himself. But Spy side eyes you, fixing his tie and cloaking away. He was secretly proud of himself that he had finally managed to protect somebody smaller than him. To make up for all the times he wasn’t there for Scout.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #medic x reader #spy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #pyro x reader #sniper x reader #there’s no way in hell i’m taking this ask seriously i’m sorry anon #there was a chance and I took it

331 notes · View notes

pebiejeebies · 6 months

Text

This is cancelled sorry

Update on my new object show!! BLISS!!

BLISS: Beware *whats* Lurking Inside *this* Sweet Sanctum (Object show name :3c)

Tw: mentions of mental abuse, full caps, curse words, eyestrain

So basically, the story is about a host (Semi colon) who has tried to get contestants to join her show, but NOBODY cared! So she slowly lost her sanity (haha reminds me of someone.. uhm.. not me..) and thought, “Hey?! What if I just.. MANIPULATE THEM into joining my show by saying ‘Oh look! Cool thingy that cares for objects health blah blah, then BAM! OBJECT SHOW!!” Because in Semi colon’s world, nobody talks about their health, so if there was some sort of free therapy for the inhabitants, they won’t say no! (I know, it’s stupid-)

This is generally a sort of dark humor show (if it wasn’t obvious), about (idk yet) number of “patients” will fall for the trick, thinking they were going for some sort of offline group therapy sessions, to be met with a lame object show that slowly makes them turn on EACHOTHER!! (Yayy another unoriginal show!!! *sobbing*)

And of course, Semi colon.. is going to make sure, they play in her show this time! Not make everyone forfeit before the show starts!!

(Visual reference is going to be hidden for now, I just need to see if anyone is actually interested in this shit lmao!!)

Of course, “we” (as in me for now) will make a separate blog that me, and said team that want to help with this, we will post our beautiful comic type object show, on tumblr!! With extra details like polls and asks!!

I have very big plans, if we all have what we need, this will work out!!

These are all the roles:

Artist(s) Answers: none - (a person or two, three or four, who will draw/answer most of the asks on the blog!)

Storyboarder(s): none - (a person or two, three or four, who will storyboard my words into action for the comic artists!)

Background artist: none - (a person who will draw backgrounds for the show with full credit!)

Character Model/Prop artist: none - (a person who will draw the models so that the comic artists could use for the show with full credit!)

Comic artist(s): none - (a person or two, three or four, who will make the characters walk, talk, and interact with eachother by making the storyboards into action!)

Character Lore Keeper(s): none - (a person or two, three or four, who will collect all the details for all the characters and keep them safe and private, unless I ask you to post about it)

Co-Host: none - (a person who will take care of all the roles above, and keep everything in its place, while solving the problems that the host couldn’t fix, and a lot more.. btw I’m still going to make some sort of test for this, but tell me if ur interested anyways, )

Host: @pebiejeebies - (me)

and dw, I will give everyone their full credit on the blog! I’ll never steal your work and call it mine <3 (do tell if I’m forgetting an important role too!)

(Keep in mind, I’d like at least two or three artists that are willing to answer the asks! They could go with the flow in the answering section, from scribbles to very detailed and colorful art, this is basically fun for the viewers so they don’t feel useless! The asks will be either about a question for a certain character, or just a curious/normal question!)

What’s the prize? Freedom!! Imagine being forced into an object show, on a very small and limited island, every day losing a part of your sanity with OTHER contestants that are ALREADY are losing their sanity!!! THIS IS GOING TO BE CRAZY FUN!! (crazy? I was crazy once—)

Anyway, that’s about it for the show atm, I still don’t know how many contestants, or who is willing to help me with what exactly or be my co-host incase anything happens to me.

but for now, I need to know if anyone actually is interested in this!

Do I make the blog?

@bliss-object-show (will be its name, don’t be a bitch and steal it..)

(tagging: @woodrocko, @sillyosclover, @smoken-bagel, @trashbins-stuff, @yourfriendlyshapeshiftermonsters)

because you offered to help me, so yeah, if you like this, dm me what role you want, with an example or two, the more examples, the more likely I’ll choose you!/nf

You can basically show me any scraps of old art, or make new ones, anything will work! But do keep in mind.. I have the complete right to say no.. so even if I hate hurting somebody’s feelings, I will not say yes if I don’t like it.. okay? Okay

I hope you had fun reading this! Tell me what you think, be completely honest (I love hearing other opinions, so don’t worry about sharing a new idea or a recommendation, etc!)

Bye bye!

#object show #new object show #osc #blissos #bliss object show #bliss os #object show community #os #object shows #bliss #help wanted #help needed #help

16 notes · View notes

captainpikeachu · 1 year

Text

Having just rewatched TFATWS for the millionth time, I am now entirely convinced that the government wanted John Walker to be nothing more than really just a poster boy/mascot, a placebo to calm the people and make it seem like they have a plan, he was never supposed to actually do anything more than wave and smile like Steve was doing in the old days on that USO tour. John was never supposed to truly fix this Flag Smasher problem, he was never supposed to seriously be a hero, because if he was, then why the fuck didn’t they give him a super soldier serum before sending him out into a battlefield that they knew full well would be dangerous as hell and would leave him physically outmatched and unable to do his job??

Because you can’t tell me that the government don’t have access to some knock off super soldier serum they could use. You can’t tell me that if they seriously wanted a real Captain America to solve their problems, they wouldn’t have juiced up John and Lemar from the get go and gave them all the weapons and field support to take out the enemy. And you can’t tell me that they wouldn’t have given John and Lemar some experimental drug because they’re concerned about their health, come on, none of us are that naive as to think they give a shit about some random soldier’s health and well being.

They sent two guys with no powers and armed with nothing more than two handguns and a metal frisbee between them to face off a larger group with super powers and a global support system. You can’t convince me that the government thought this was ever gonna end up turning out well. At best, John and Lemar was supposed to just appear like they’re doing the job and really just killing time on wild goose chases. At worst, John and Lemar were lambs to the slaughter, they’re supposed to die in the fight to turn the public tide against the Flag Smashers and bring good PR and support for the government to be able to then use to silence their enemies.

You really can’t convince me that the government genuinely thought sending a regular guy in a costume out into battle was a great plan. You just can’t. It makes no sense to this government who’s always been shady and planning stuff behind the scenes and always quick to take advantage of everything and certainly had no qualms about risking people’s health with juicing them up on experimental drugs, just one day decided to do things “the right way” and wasn’t plotting some trick to get ahead.

Hell, there’s no way they didn’t consider making the new Cap also a super soldier just like the old Cap, which means the fact that they didn’t do it is incredibly suspicious, and don’t say they don’t have the serum, the government has plenty of back up serums they could have used or tested. John and Lemar not having the serum, when even in the comics they had the serum first before the government considered them, makes no sense unless you consider that they were never meant to actually do anything more than present a public distraction/placebo.

What the government didn’t intend on is John and Lemar taking that job actually seriously. What they didn’t intend on is Lemar dying and John surviving and giving them bad PR. What they didn’t intend on is John actually getting his hands on the serum and using it. But hey, the moment that happened, they had someone ready to pick John up even as they hang him out to dry publicly. And they knew he had the serum even though John didn’t tell anyone and only Sam and Bucky would have known and they certainly didn’t tell anyone either. So yeah, a government that seems to know everything yet somehow not knowing John’s tenure as Cap was gonna end up as anything other than a complete mess is just not realistic to me.

They set him up to fail, to not be effective at doing much anything other than wave and smile. He was supposed to just cosplay a hero, not actually try to go out and be one. He was supposed to be a brand™️, not an actual soldier.

If I was writing MCU, I would confirm this in John’s future stories and play out the consequences of John finding out about the manipulations behind his Cap role, after all it’s not as if the government in the comics didn’t also spend plenty of times trying to manipulate John, even straight up just wiping his memories and lying to him about doing it. Besides, not only does this give the fans a sympathetic lens with which to view John as a character and actually support him on (something Marvel seems to want with him now being a protagonist of an upcoming film), it also organically fits into the story of the shady government arc that the MCU has clearly been building up.

#I am totally convinced of this #john walker #lemar hoskins #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #mcu #mcu thunderbolts #the thunderbolts #steve rogers

30 notes · View notes

archivist-devlog · 25 days

Text

[transcript: Someone opens up a ren'py game. the menu is the default gui for ren'py. Up in the corner is the text "First try (December 12th 2023)" that disappears when the player opens up the game. The game opens up on a smaller sprite of Memento. He's a fat, transgender filipino man with curly brown hair. The dialouge of the game goes as follows: Memento, hands down: Go to the store. Memento: Hands down: ... Memento, holding hoisin sauce: Buy a bottle of hoisin sauce. Memento, turning around, still holding sauce: Go to the fridge- Memento, suprised and smiling: Oh no!! Cut to a dirty fridge, with a "For Sale" sign in red, all caps comic sans, filled to the brim with hoisin sauce Memento, offscreen: I already have a bottle of hoisin sauce!! The game returns the player to the menu. There's a cut to another video. It's a similar menu, with a slightly warmer grey. The timestamp in the corner now reads "Second try (April 5th 2024)" that disapears before the player opens the game. The game that plays is exactly the same in dialouge as the previous game transcribed. However, it has updated sprites and graphics, a red-tinted kitchen background, and generally looks more well done/dynamic. Additional, there's audio from the original meme the dialogue is referencing. The video ends, and cuts to a black screen that reads "Bonus: track i almost used but ultimately decided against it." In the background, a tune made in beepbox using the banjo preset plays. It's hard to describe, but it sounds rather whimsical. End transcription]

finally... first ever offical archivist devlog!! finally living up to my blog name!!

this is a comparison to a coding test i did back in 2023, when i wasn't that experienced with renpy and sprite making, and one i did recently.

the audio memento is saying is from thebnoth on tiktok, background audio extracted by me. tune used making beepbox.

full breakdown of process below the cut!!!

first: i laid down sketches. they don't have to be anything big or special, just ideas for poses and the like. take as long as you need to, just go until you have something you feel fits the vibe/you're satisfied with.

[id: four sketches featuring memento. first is of him crossing his arms. second is of him holding out a hoisin sauce bottle with one hand, and having a hand on his hip with the other, head titled to the right of the screen. third is the same, but with the arm slightly down and looking to the right. third is him titling his head to the left of the screen and smiling/laughing to himself. the first sketch is labeled 2 while all the others are labeled one. end id]

it's also really good to label the sketches with numbers, depending on how many lip movement alts you're gonna do! for me, personally, it just helps clear up confusion later on.

then, i just do standard art stuff i do for sprites. lineart, coloring, converting them into transparents, all that jazz. there's nothing particualrly notable after this, except some funnies i posted before this post

that concludes this devlog update!! this is, again, my first devlog. i don't know how to do these things and i'm very much a beginner coder. thank you to tutorials on youtube, i love you tutorials on youtube.

have a swell day!!

#eden talks #cadaver discussion #cadaver game #indie dev #devlog #indie horror devlog #indie developer #ren'py #coding #indie horror game #also... big help was that i've drawn memento so many times i can just whip one out like crazy #visual novel #gamedev #indiegamedev #this is a queued post

2 notes · View notes

spaceless-vacuum · 11 months

Note

Hi my friend sent me the request you did for dark link daughter redwr and even tho I am a

Nerdy huge fan of Zelda. Some of the kinks I don't know about

Can you do a list of all the links and where they are from if you can.

Btw love your work after test tomorrow or today since it 12:58 and I Just got done doing late studding. I am going to bed but after The test and much need sleep I am so request some stuff from you. Have a wonderful day

So I got into the idea of different links from @linkeduniverse but there's also @linked-maze and some other au's that separate the boys into different people. Those two comics are amazing and I recommend checking them out.

I write my versions kinda of loose and I mostly base them off of what I know from the games.

Sky is the one from Skyloft and Skyward sword. He is the sword master who forged the master sword into what it is and is the best sword fighter amongst the group. He is quieter than the others and tends to enjoy listening to then rather than talking. He loves watching his decendants but feels bad about Ganon because he was the one who sealed Demise and got the curse placed on him.

Four is the hero of the four sword (some also put the hero from minish cap as being the same hero just them when he was younger). Their personality has been split into four and who you're reading from depends on if they're one person or more I tend to play both sides of the line but I think of them more as one and a half people. Like they can see themselves as separate but often don't.

Time is the hero of time. Raised by the deku tree surrounded by Koriki he was the hero who split the timeline into three. The oldest, but not that old, and done with this nonsense he makes friends with Fierce diety through a mask and takes on the leader role of the group.

Twilight is the rancher who met Midna and saw her break the mirror. He's the wolf who Wild met in his era as well and they are sort of like brothers at this point.

Wind is from wind waker and phantom hour glass. He sailed the seas with Tetra who turned out to be Zelda. This kid is a pirate who is the honorary kid of the group.

Legend is the hero of legend from a link between worlds and more. He killed Ganon twice and woke up a sleeping whale god at the expense of never seeing his girlfriend again.

Hyrule is from the original legend of Zelda and a link to the past.

Warrior is from Hyrule warriors, and he's the certified soilder and pretty boy.

Wild is from botw and now totk.

Others I write for:

Calamity is from hyrule warriors age of calamity and in this game the calamity was prevented via time nonsense and a bot named Terreko.

Koridai if from the old cdi games, the ones no one talks about for some reason.

Courage is from the tv show, the one who says "well excuse me princess!"

#ask and answer

6 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Miller Morales Mechanic Shop (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Part One of Miller Morales Mechanic Shop

Summary: Something is wrong with your car. What, exactly? You have no clue. So you bring it in to some professionals- who also have a toddler running around the shop.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, Frankie is a dad, brief mention of divorce and trauma bc poor Frankie, there is a child heavily involved in this so if you don’t like kids this isn’t for you :)

A/N: WELCOME TO PART ONE EVERYONE! This is such a cute AU and I’m BEYOND excited to start sharing it with you all! I don’t know how many parts this will be or anything but I can’t wait to take it and run with it.

Marisol Morales behaves for very few people. One of those is Ben Miller. Unfortunately, she has decided to break her own rules today.

Frankie loves summer. He loves his little girl playing outside in her baby pool, taking her for walks around the neighborhood with their three-legged dog, all of the fun parts. The hard part is when the nanny goes on a vacation and Mari has to come to work with him.

Benny and Frankie, ever since the chaos that was the Lorea mission, run a small mechanic shop together. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop isn’t necessarily the busiest place in town, but they make enough to get by and have some disposable income too. Mari loves to hang around the shop with her daddy and uncle. She’s there more than Frankie would like, but he supposes it’s not the worst thing in the world. When Frankie and Jules split and Frankie won full custody, he’d hoped a nanny would take care of most everything when Mari is home all day in summer. Sadly, he was in for a rude awakening when no Mary Poppins showed up on his doorstep.

It’s normally not too bad; Benny hung the moon in Mari’s eyes. If she won’t do something for her daddy, which is still somewhat rare, she’ll always do it for her Uncle Benny. That makes the day run much smoother. Mari has a whole host of quiet-time activities and toys to play with, and the men generally trade off periods of either working on the cars or being with the little girl.

Her favorite activities at the shop include drawing on the concrete with thick sticks of chalk and playing with her toy helicopters and planes. Benny insists tanks are cooler, but Mari prefers flying her Polly Pockets in the chopper, running through the garage and making flight noises. She’s a smart little thing; for her age, she’s picked up big words and can make sentences out of three words, which is quite a stretch for a baby just over two years of age. She calls for Benny and Daddy and knows the names of his tools: wench, scu-dwive, and her favorite, win-seeled wipe fwuid. She loves to babble at customers while they get their oil changed.

Being shit with cars is no fun. It only increases the anxiety when some light flashes on your dashboard. The lights can mean so many things that you find it ridiculous; “check engine”? Check it for what? To save yourself the anxiety, you find your nearest mechanic and pay them to deal with it.

Today, as you pull over into a gas station, you check your phone and find that the nearest shop is a place you haven’t heard of. It must be new. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop, 0.6 miles away. The name implies something more local and homegrown. You’re more than willing to support a place like that, so you start up the engine, pray you don’t explode, and make your way over to the shop.

It’s nearby, like the map indicated. The outside is a quaint little place, tucked in a strip mall next to a coffee shop, a dentist, and an insurance agency. The three car bays are empty, and knowing next to nothing about how these shops work, you pull inside and park your car, letting it run as you wait for an employee. The bell dinged to let them know you were here, so you stay patient and listen idly to the hum of the talk radio show from your car’s speakers.

After a minute or two pass, you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right place to be. Maybe you were supposed to go in the front or something. Concluding that you probably aren’t where you’re supposed to be, you turn off the car and get out only to be greeted by the sound of buzzing lips.

You can hear a baby’s voice, mimicking some kind of vehicle’s sound, and for a second you’re worried this place must have you hearing things. Then, from a swinging door to the front comes a little girl, running and babbling to herself about her toy helicopter.

She has a head full of dark brown curls, tied back into two puffs with pink scrunchies, and matching pink leggings and a t-shirt far too big for her, the back emblazoned with the shop’s logo. She’s barefoot, tiny feet slapping against the cold cement.

“I told you I had to piss, Fish!” A man’s voice shouts from one end of the garage.

“No you didn’t, dipshit!” Another man shouts back. Being caught in the middle of their argument is quite comical, if you’re being honest with yourself. “She’s fucking two! You can’t leave her alone like that, man!”

The first voice is matched to a person as a tall blonde man emerges from the customer service side of the shop. “Marisol Morales, come here,” he insists sternly as he rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit. “Come on, you’re gonna trip.” Ben is embroidered on a patch over his heart.

She pouts at him before stumbling forward and continuing to run, stopping as she sees you and looking up in confusion. Her lower lip sticks out in a pout as her eyes scan your face, as if she’s trying to remember if she knows who you are. “Hi,” she finally concedes as you bend to her level.

“Hi there,” you smile and hold out a hand. “What’s your name?” You pick her up, holding her on your hip so that she doesn’t trip, like Ben so desperately feared.

The second, unknown voice shouts for the little girl again before boots clunk on concrete up to you, rounding your car and stopping. This must be the girl’s father, you realize, as you rake your eyes up his body. He wears the same navy blue jumpsuit as the other man, though it’s unsnapped over his chest, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. The patch on his chest reads Catfish. He wears a ball cap and warm brown curls peek out from under it. He has scruff and a hooked nose that perfectly matches the one on the little girl. “I Mari,” she introduces herself proudly.

“Hey, leave her alone, Mar,” the man shakes his head as he hoists her up to hold her on his hip. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says with an embarrassed smile, showing a dimple beneath the scruff on his chin.

“No, it’s not a problem,” you laugh then set her down and tell the little girl your name. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” You chuckle as she looks at you. She blushes and buries her face in the man’s chest, giggling shyly.

He looks down at the little girl then up at you again. “Well, uh, hi. I’m Frankie, and you’ve met Mari already.”

“Your daughter?” you ask as you look at the pudgy little girl, who now stares at you in awe.

Frankie nods and adjusts his ball cap, pushing his hair back with it. “Yep. Our nanny is on vacation, so she gets to hang out around here,” he chuckles and kisses her head, setting her down. “Go see Benny, yeah?” He asks her. She happily waddles off towards the blonde man, who gives you a wave then heads into the back. “What brings you in?”

“Would you laugh if I told you I don’t really know?” You admit with a shy smile. “My check engine light came on while I was on the highway. I don’t know the first thing about cars, so I was hoping you’d figure out what that meant.”

“Nah, no laughing here,” he nods and gives you a genuine smile before looking over at your car. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll have you pop the hood for me and I’ll give it a look?” He asks.

“That would be great. Thank you,” you tell him, the desperation for his help in your voice. Now that you get the chance to really look at him, he’s quite attractive. His eyes are deep set and a beautiful brown, and they crinkle when he smiles. Facial expressions only accentuate the lines in his face, but he’s certainly not old. His eyes still hold his youth.

“No problem.” He leads you to the car and you pop the hood open before getting out. “Could I take your keys?” he asks you. “Just so I can turn it on and off and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod frantically and hand them over to him. “I’ll… be in the waiting room?”

“That’s how we usually do it,” he chuckles as he takes the keys from you. “Just shout for Benny if Mari annoys you again.”

That makes you frown. “She’s not annoying at all. She’s adorable,” you smile as you look over your shoulder and see her and the blonde man playing together.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he laughs and points his wrench at you as he walks to the hood of the car.

Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh as you head back to the waiting room. You walk in and Mari perks up, turning to look at you. “Hi! Playing helicopter,” she tells you in her stunted speech as she holds up the toy.

“You sure are,” you nod and sit next to her. “Can I play?” You ask, looking up at Benny, silently asking him the question too.

He nods and Mari squeals happily. “Friend!” She shrieks and hands you another helicopter. “Go pew pew, okay?” She drags them across the toy mat like they’re cars, and you follow suit.

“Okay,” you laugh. Looking up at the blonde man, you extend a smile his way and introduce yourself. He’s busy repairing a Barbie dollhouse with a screwdriver.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, Benny, whatever you wanna call me.”

Driving your helicopter around the ground, following Mari’s lead, you chuckle. “No preference?”

“Fish calls me Benny.”

“Fish?” You ask and tip your head.

“Frankie, whatever. We’re buddies from the service. His code name was Catfish,” the man explains with a shrug, testing the hinges of the plastic door.

That makes you smile down at Frankie’s daughter. “Really, just buddies? Could’ve sworn you’d be brothers,” you tease the blonde, blue-eyed man. “Does Frankie know how to do his daughter’s hair?” You ask and fiddle with her two pigtails.

“Yes, he does,” Frankie insists as he walks out to the front, cleaning a wrench. “But just barely.”

You look up at him, embarrassed. “Her pigtails just look a little messy. Then again, she was running around like crazy,” you laugh and watch her rush over to Frankie, insisting he pick her up.

Bending down to grab her, Frankie groans at the ache in his joints. “She was. I could use some pointers, if you’ve got ‘em.”

“Of course,” you nod and stand too, brushing the dust from the concrete floor off on your pants. “What’s the verdict on the car?” You ask.

Frankie turned, watching as Benny walks out to the shop, but he turns back to face you. “Oh, right. The engine was misfiring, and unburned fuel was being put into the exhaust system, and that damaged the catalytic converter.”

You nod as you listen to him, really staring at his face more than anything. He’s just so damn pretty, you note as you admire the curve of his nose, his slightly sunken and dark eyes. His lips look beautiful and soft, even though they seem a little chapped. When he stops talking, it takes you a second to process it. “I don’t know what that means,” you admit with a shy smile. “I told you. I don’t know shit about cars,” you laugh, playing it off like you were lost when you were really lost in his eyes.

He shakes his head and laughs, bouncing Mari on his hip. “Your car is gonna need some work. Couple hours,” he shrugs. “If Benny and I get to working on it together, an hour and a half, maybe?” He admits.

“Yeah, that’s great. I can watch Mari,” you offer.

Frankie would never be this trusting normally. You’re a straight-up stranger, but your demeanor is good enough for him. Besides, you’re right here. He can check on the two of you every so often, and Mari seems to love you. “That would be great,” he smiles. “You really don’t have to.”

“No, I have nothing better to do,” you chuckle and look at the little girl. “You wanna play?”

Mari nods excitedly and Frankie sets her down. She rushes back to her toy mat and you watch her go. “Thank you, again, for fixing all this.”

“Just doing my job,” he nods. This time, it’s his turn to admire you. He stares at your face, examining the curves and angles that make you up. Your eyes are kind and warm as they follow the little girl, and he can see that he’s making a good choice here.

When you sit down, Mari comes and sits cross-legged across from you. “What are we gonna play?” You ask her, looking at her wide variety of toys. Her pile includes dinosaurs, Matchbox cars, lots of toy helicopters and planes, Barbie dolls, and a plastic tea set.

“Tea party!” She says and hands you a tiny plastic cup and a felt muffin.

“Oh my goodness,” you gasp in a fake accent. “How delightful!”

Frankie peeks over his shoulder at the two of you. He could really get used to that sight.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs

413 notes · View notes

captainwaffles · 2 years

Text

Winter soldier Headcanons cause no one else is making them to fuel my dependency /j

Okay quick disclaimer I’ve never been able to Read any of the comics so this is purely MCU based

Part 1

It’s been said before but Hydra started testing on Bucky when he was first captured

They thought he was the most skilled and was causing a lot of issues and didn’t think he would survive

That’s how he survived the fall

When they found him they finished off the bout of drugs and stuff

They thought his arm might grow back so an arm wasn’t made for a while

Trying to control him (like others have said) was hard, but once Cap died he went under easy

It took a few tries

Hydra wanted the perfect assassin so they had to teach Bucky a few skills

They started with languages actually. They didn’t want to teach him fighting skills right away as they where testing out mindcontrol

He learned hand gestures so he could communicate in the feild

Also learned German, Russian, Spanish, French, Japanese, Turkish and a couple of others

After a while hydra made an arm and Bucky started learning more fighting skills

All sorts of knives, guns, hand to hand, random objects, whatever they wanted

Part 1 out of 3

#captainwaffles #marvel #mcu #winter soldier headcanons #the winter soldier #winter soldier #captain america and the winter soldier #captain america the first avenger #the first avenger #hydra #mcu headcanons #marvel headcanon #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes

60 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years

Note

Lilia and Silver platonic + 🛹!!

This one was inspired by a piece of TWST fan art! (I’d recommend looking at the art after reading, since it kind of spoils what happens!) Also, go watch Sk8 the Infinity--

Order Up!

Silver looked awkward and out of place amid the miscellaneous mishmash of oddities and knick-knacks that was Lilia’s room. He was too pristine, too well-put together, in the middle of that mess. A fairy tale prince far removed from his castle.

Lilia, meanwhile, busied himself with digging through items in a closet. Amulets, little statues, keychains, and other things that caught one’s eye flew by as he tossed them onto his bed.

“Look at this stuff! Isn’t it neat?” Lilia asked, pulling out a necklace from the depths of his storage. It appeared to be made out of shark teeth, large and pointed. “So many precious memories of my youth are here, contained in these souvenirs.”

“Father, I enjoy hearing stories of your travels, but I came here today to assist you with cleaning.”

“Goodness, and what exactly is there to clean here?”

Silver raised an eyebrow, paired with a doubtful look as he glanced around their surroundings. Several instruments were piled at the base of his bed, masks were mounted on the walls, and there were multiple chests strewn around, full to bursting with baubles.

“... It’s not a mess, it’s organized chaos!” Lilia preemptively insisted. He continued to rifle through his belongings with a huff. “There is a difference!”

“Organized chaos or not, I don’t see how you could feasibly find anything you needed in here. We should, at the very least, refold your clothes and reorganize your drawers.”

“Ah-HAH!” Lilia suddenly let out an excited cry, standing up with something in his hands. “Found it!”

“Found what...?”

“This!!” Lilia triumphantly presented a skateboard, its wheels a glossy black and green, its lithe body plastered in comic book style panels and graphic. “Cater once gifted me this, but I hadn’t had the chance to test it out yet.”

He fished a baseball cap out of his closet, and, slapping it on his head and holding the skateboard over his shoulder, struck a silly pose. “How do you think everyone would react if I rolled in like this and went, ‘how do you do, fellow kids?’”

“... Father.” Silver folded his arms, his gaze hardening with suspicion “Don’t tell me you summoned me today under the ruse of helping you clean, when your true intention was--”

“Fufu. You know me so well, Silver!” Beaming, Lilia set the skateboard onto the floor and stood upon it, his arms out to steady his balance. “Come now, child! Push me!!”

Silver sighed, but obliged.

An old bat could learn new tricks--but only if it wished to.

#Lilia Vanrouge #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #delights in bites #Silver

112 notes · View notes

high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

Text

All About Eavesdropping - Loki x Reader - Words: 1,835

“You want us to what?” You yelled.

“I need you and Elsa here to go to Greenland for about a month,” Tony said. You stared at him from across his worktable in his lab.

“Why in Valhalla would we need to do that, Stark?” Loki retorted. “And don’t call me Elsa.” Tony had called the two of you in there right after breakfast saying that he had a very important job for you. This, however, did not seem to be all that special.

“For purely scientific purposes, of course,” He replied, mouthful of blueberries.

“And those would be?” You sighed, facedesking.

“The new winter stealth suits I designed. I need them tested in the field. I’ve run as many lab tests as possible but,” Tony shrugged. “Field tests are absolutely necessary. Everything you’ll need is either in these boxes or in the house in Greenland. If you want to take any other personal stuff you’ll want to grab it before you leave.”

“And you think we’re the best for the job?” You asked.

“He’s already a popsicle so if it gets too cold he can deal with it and you can heal yourself or him anyway,” Tony said like it was the most logical thing in the world. Loki tensed at his words but didn’t say anything about it.

“Fine,” Loki grunted. He grabbed the box Tony had marked for him and headed for the doors.

“You leave at 6! Don’t be late!”

“I wouldn’t dare disappoint you, Stark,” Loki sassed before finally stalking out.

“Have fun!” Tony grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“First of all, perv. Second of all, ain’t gonna happen!” You replied. “Why are you doing this? This whole thing is a direct attack on a part of him he doesn’t like to address!”

“Well I figured he has to grow up one day and deal with it. We all have inner demons to fight. I figured I’d help him.”

“A bit not good there, Sherlock.” Tony snorted in laughter and shook his head.

“Would you rather I send him with Steve?” Your eyes widened comically.

“Nope!” You exclaimed, popping the p. “I think we’ll do just fine.” You grabbed your box and headed out as well.

By 6 o'clock, the two of you were flying out on one of Tony's jets. "So, what do you think of the new suits?" You asked Loki, trying to make some conversation.

"They are no match for true Asgardian leather and would be greatly improved by at least a cape," He replied sounding rather bored.

"Oh," You said. "How exactly are we to be testing the suits again? I forget what Tony said."

"He said nothing, darling. It was all in his infernal little packet." You blushed lightly at the pet name and nodded.

"Alright, well, I guess I'm just going to," You paused, unsure of what to do. It was obvious Loki was not interested in conversation but there wasn't much to do on the jet. "I'm just going to sit over there," You said, getting up quickly and moving to the other side of the jet. The rest of the flight was quiet, Loki only speaking up to alert you that you were about to land.

"Surely the man of iron could not possibly want us to stay here," Loki said, getting out and seeing the small house.

"Maybe it's bigger on the inside," You said hopefully. Gathering your few things, you both headed in. "Oh this is so much worse," You groaned. The large main room consisted of the dining and living rooms and the kitchen. However, it was very sparsely decorated. You could see a stack of groceries in the kitchen along with a note. Loki wandered off to explore the bathroom and bedrooms, you assumed, while you read the note.

"Find anything of interest?" Loki called out, surprising you.

"Just that Tony said if we didn't like the food or somehow ran out there's a grocery store about 10 miles away."

"And just how does he expect us to go there?" Loki yelled, getting increasingly frustrated.

"The note says our transportation is out back." You walked down the small hallway to the back door and looked outside. Stifling a laugh you called out, "Hey, Loki! I think your ex is here!"

"My who?" Loki replied, very confused. "I have no 'exes', as you call them, on Midgard." You smirked and moved aside so Loki could look. When he saw what was in the backyard, a strange look crossed over his face. "Run," He said in a dangerously calm voice.

"I beg your pardon?" You replied.

"Run if you don't want to lose your phone," He smirked back. You laughed but you did take off running. He chased you back out to the main room but you ran out the front door. "Don't think you can escape me!" He called out.

"Wanna bet?" You called back, running to the backyard. You quickly jumped on one of the two horses you had seen and took off.

"Oh, you'll regret saying that, my dear," Loki grinned, getting on the other horse and taking off after you.

The next few days continued in a similar pattern. There wasn't much to do so you and Loki would often spend your time exploring the woods behind the house or riding the horses or just talking. Loki had warmed up to you quite a bit, pun intended, and you were quite happy. Of course, you recorded the events of each day in your diary. Well, it was less of a diary and more of a collection of special moments you wanted to remember and sketches you'd made. You had just finished writing today's events when you heard a loud clatter and Loki call you from the kitchen.

"Y/N!" He said. "Can you come here please?" You quickly put your notebook in the nightstand drawer and hurried out to the kitchen.

"What in the world happened, Loki?" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. Loki was laying on the floor, covered in a mixture of flour and eggs it seemed, with various cups and bowls around him.

"I was attempting to reach a mixing bowl on the top shelf when I slipped on an egg and pulled the shelf down," He admitted.

"You're telling the truth!" You gasped, openly chuckling at the situation now.

"Of course, love! I couldn't lie to you." You blushed brightly, as he often made you do with those pet names.

"Uh, well," You stuttered. "Why don't you go wash up and I'll finish," You paused, glancing around. "Whatever you were making."

"I was attempting to make breakfast," He grinned. "But I think I should make myself clean instead, hm?"

"Yes, you should," You smirked. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you were greying early."

"You-" He exclaimed, standing quickly. For a moment you thought he was truly angry, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He reached onto the counter and threw a handful of flour at you before running off to the bathroom. You laughed, dusted yourself off, and got to work on breakfast.

About an hour later, he came back out and sat across you at the counter. "Your breakfast, my prince," You smiled, presenting him his plate. He smiled and you ate in silence for a time.

"I've been reading a lot lately," He commented.

"Mhm," You replied, mouthful of syrupy pancakes.

"The last book I read had some rather interesting sketches in it too."

"Really?" You asked, truly interested. "I love art. Can you show it to me?" You took a large gulp of milk as he replied.

"My dear," He said, setting down his fork. "I read your diary." You coughed, almost choking on your ill-timed drink.

"You what?" You screeched. "How dare you invade my privacy like that and-"

"Don't you care to know what I thought?" He interrupted.

"Why? So you can laugh at me, oh Mr. High-and-" He cut you off by leaning over the counter and kissing you earnestly. "Oh, that's nice," You said once you pulled away.

"Just nice?" He smirked. "I guess I'll have to work on that." He kissed you once more before you pulled away, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

"I just remembered something!" You gasped.

"What's wrong?" You quickly pulled out the pamphlet Tony had made you about the suit testing. You then gestured to a paragraph under a subheading of RECORDING ANY AND ALL TEST RESULTS

ALL TEST RESULTS MUST BE RECORDED BY THE TESTERS USING THE STEPS LISTED. TO ENSURE NOTHING IS MISSED, HOWEVER, THE HOUSE WILL ALSO BE UNDER 24/7 SURVEILLANCE TO TRACK ANY UNRECORDED RESULTS.

OUTSIDE - AUDIO/VIDEO

INSIDE - AUDIO ONLY

Loki grinned and leaned into you, lips brushing against your ear. He whispered something and you giggled. "Loki!" You gasped. "We can’t do that here!"

"Oh, yes," He purred. "We can do it anywhere we want if we're creative enough."

"But outside is so much more exciting," You grinned. "So," you paused, struggling to find the right word. "Freeing!"

"Please do not do anything outdoors where I can see!" You heard a loud voice yell. You both quickly realized it was coming from the monitoring system.

"Steve? Is that you?" You called back with a chuckle.

"Yeah, Tony insisted I take a turn on guard duty," He grumbled. "Look, I'm sorry I interrupted," He paused awkwardly. "Whatever you were doing but could you please not do it outside? Outside has cameras." Loki laughed loudly and you did too.

"We really didn't mean to prank you, Cap. I thought Tony was on the other end of that mic."

"I however have no objections to how this turned out," Loki added. You whacked him arm lightly and shook your head. "Truthfully, though, we were only speaking of testing another aspect of the suit. I whispered to Y/N my idea and-"

"I get it," Cap replied quickly. You couldn't see him but you could tell he was embarrassed. "I'll make you two a deal. Behave yourselves, finish the tests, and get home early and I'll help you prank Tony here in the tower. Ok?"

"You have yourself a deal, Captain," Loki grinned.

"Alright. I'm going to take a nap now. Don't do anything stupid."

"Oh we won't," Loki smirked, wrapping his arms around you and planting light kisses on your neck.

"Loki!" You squealed.

"Do you want to prank Tony or not?" Steve yelled. "I can't see you but I can hear you! And that didn't sound like suit testing. Get to work! If you do as you're supposed to, you'll be done in a week."

"Yes, sir," You both grumbled. Loki, ever the mischief maker, wasn't about to let up. He grabbed a towel and twirled it, smacking your backside with it as you walked away.

"What was that for?" You asked.

"Loki, did you just-"

"For purely scientific purposes, I assure you," He replied. Steve groaned in frustration.

"This is gonna be a long week."

Loki Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@serpentargo

@khena

@nyx2021

@kaz11283

@weasley-main-lover

@up-to-mischief

@lokislittlesigyn

Marvel (all characters) Taglist

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@whatafuckingdumbass

@ladylulu143

@lokislittlesigyn

#loki #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki x reader #marvel #avengers

207 notes · View notes

gamer-logic · 3 years

Text

Since my state, Georgia, is having the annual Peaches to Beaches event which is two days of statewide yard sales, I thought it would be interesting to show how America, the states, and any other countries wanting to participate both 1p and 2p would be during this event. So here you go!

Georgia is happily selling fresh produce like boiled peanuts and Vidalia onions and peach-based deserts. Her homemade peach cobbler and ice cream are to die for!

Antonio (Spain) also sells many fresh tomatoes, olives, and other vegetables. He doesn't understand why no one wants his Olive Juice though.

Hawaii and Alaska make a killing selling lemonade at their stand with a free complimentary handmade flower crown with every purchase. While using their sheer cuteness to attract everyone including one of those sweet biker gangs. It's really surreal to see a huge gang of buff, tattooed, tough-looking guys in leather wearing flower crowns and drinking lemonade. Allen's also there to supervise and ward of creep. Also, to provide people more 'incentive' to buy their lemonade.

Texas breaks out the Texas BBQ and is in a Barbecuing turf war with Jett (Australia). They draw huge crowds for the five-alarm chili as well and hold a competition who can eat the most without burning out their tongues and/or passing out.

Florida sells some of the weirdest stuff you'll ever see. "Want a full-scale model of a gator made entirely out of bottle caps? Only ten bucks! Want a portrait of Florida Man painted with orange juice? 15 bucks!"

Nevada also tries to sell weird and sketchy stuff to scam everyone. "This piece is the genuine article folks! One napkin gently used by Elvis Presley himself! Just 500 bucks! Also, gets into a haggling war with Lars (Netherlands). Somewhere Alfred's dad instincts go off and he reminds himself to ground Nevada.

California, Oregon, and Washington collaborate and California sells anything vegan or made with avocadoes and the autographs of Hollywood stars, Oregon sells his old tye-dyed shirts and records, they also made him sell his old groovy hippy bus from the sixties he'd never got rid of no one knew they had. Oregon can be a bit of a hoarder, so they had to tie him to a chair and gag him because he wouldn't surrender the bus without a fight. Washington also tries to sell and drink cups of coffee, but in the hot Southern heat, this doesn't end well.

Louisiana sells anything Cajun-style from frog legs to fresh gumbo, to beignets. Also has a full collection of Mardi Gras masks and shrunken voodoo heads on sale for two bucks a pop.

Gilbert (Prussia) gets tricked by Nevada and gets a ton of stupid things he doesn't need. Ludwig (Germany) tries unsuccessfully to keep him on a metaphorical leash.

Ludwig always checks the quality of things he sees and buys dog toys and supplies for Blackie, Berlitz, and Astor. Later, he actually buys a kiddie leash for Gilbert.

All the while Lutz (2p! Germany) is asleep in a lawn chair with his hat on his face after drinking like six cold beers from this really good booth. All the while, Klaus (2p! Prussia) finds an antique Teutonic Knights flag from a vendor whose family was from Germany.

Vash (Switzerland) buys antique guns from Alabama and Roderich (Austria) also checks out some of Tennessee's guitars. He's horrified upon seeing Alabama's banjo and washboard.

Mathew (Canada) and Emma (Belgium) combine their powers and tag team to sell the best pancakes and waffles on earth with genuine Canadian maple syrup.

New York sells tons of baseball memorabilia and collectibles. Allen, trying to save his bad-boy image, tries to be discreet when buying some while taking Hawaii and Alaska around to get something with their lemonade money. James also gets some hockey memorabilia with Michigan and Minnesota who also got snow cones.

Alaska and Hawaii see a giant deluxe dollhouse but are almost in tears when they don't have enough money. But they end up getting it for free because no one can resist their weaponized puppy dog eyes. Also, no one can resist a growling Allen. Using the leftover money, they buy cute little rainbow umbrella hats for everyone and have Allen wear one who begrudgingly accepts it.

James, walking by with an armful hockey gear and flannel shirts, bursts out laughing when he sees this. In revenge, Allen forces him to wear one too and help him carry the dollhouse, much to Hawaii and Alaska's delight! "I said go my way puck head!" "No, it's my way, you vegan loving hoser!" A passing Francis (France)' is in stylish horror when they also make him and a nonchalant Luis (2p! France), holding a case of vintage wines, wear them too. Hawaii and Alaska go around giving umbrella hats to everyone including a sleeping Lutz they pass by.

Loving (Romano) practically has to supervise Feliciano (Italy) and keep him from buying anything too stupid on impulse or get scammed. They still end up with stacks upon stacks of cookbooks, kitchen wear, and a Mona Lisa made entirely out of Macaroni. They also get umbrella hats.

Flavio (2p! Romano) browses through clothing racks to get ideas for his vintage line. Also checks out the handmade fabrics like quilts. "Such craftsmanship! This pattern is so unique and chic! I simply must have it! What's your price Bella?" The nice old woman selling the quilt just smiles, "Oh just about five dollars young man." "Perfect!" Flavio hands the quilts off to Andreas (2p! Spain) who's practically buried underneath the fabric. Luciano (2p! Italy) facepalms while holding a new knife set in its case. "Oooh! Look at those adorable hats I just have to have one." Cue three more umbrella hats and a humiliated Luciano. "Just kill me now..."

Katyusha (Ukraine), Elizaveta (Hungary), Lillie (Liechtenstein), Natalya, (Belarus), Katya( 2p! Ukraine) and Anastasia (2p! Belarus), and Michelle (Seychelles) explore with armfuls of clothes, new ribbons, and a gun case for Switzerland (Lillie), cast iron frying pans (Elizaveta, watch out Prussia!), farm tools (Katyusha), Jewelry and unmentionables (Katya), dresses (Anastasia), an assortment of switchblades (Natalya), and one of those singing fish on a plague (Michelle). It's definitely an interesting group.

Kiku (Japan) and Kuro (2p! Japan) find a nerd booth selling comics, manga, and Japanese weapons like katanas. Kuro test swings a blade and tries to slice the table so hard it breaks the blade, "Hmmm, not sharp enough for me, got anything else?" He throws it on the pile of broken blades he's already tested. Kiku stockpiles on limited-edition manga and he and the vendor end up getting into a huge, heated by Kiku standards, debate on who's waifu is best. Further down, Alfred reads every Marvel/DC comic while keeping an ear out on every state's location. He checks on Texas via his glasses and notices he's beating Australia in the chili contest. "That's my boy!"

Wisconsin wearing a cheese head sells anything cheese-based. He's got cheddar, goat cheese, string cheese, cheese spray, gorgonzola, grilled cheese, cheese curds, Mac n' Cheese, cheese sculptures of all world monuments, you name it he's got it! He also starts a war with Iowa's corn dishes and Idaho's potato dishes. They eventually end up flinging cheese, potatoes, and corn after they start dissing each other's foods. "Take this cheese brain!" "Nice aim, I-da-ho!" "I told you not to call me that!" "I'm gonna go children of the corn on y'all's behinds!" Poor Nebraska is stuck in the middle.

Alfred (America) hears the commotion and using his parent radar, immediately knows who it is and reminds himself to ground Iowa, Wisconsin, and Idaho later along with Nevada who, though still grounded for sure, makes him feel a little proud of since he managed to out haggle Netherlands.

New Mexico and Arizona also sell Native American handicrafts along with things like dreamcatchers and giant inflatable aliens. While Delaware, being the boring stick in the mud that he is, walks by with a framed and complete U.S. quarter collection from a vendor.

Kansas sells out of every sunflower she had courtesy of Ivan (Russia). Ivan and her the team up to buy out every sunflower seed from here to kingdom come. Viktor (2p! Russia) buys all the vodka he can find and a new shovel while Xiao (2p! China) tries giving people tattoos for 10 bucks a pop.

He tries to convince Yao (China) to get a hello kitty one to match the giant plushie he's holding, with the encouragement of Leon (Hong Kong) and Yong Soo (South Korea) who all collectively agree he needs to quit being such a grandpa. They also like calling him an antique-like the items on sale. " Aiyah! I'm not that old, aru!" "Yeah, you are Sensei." "Don't deny it! Da Ze!" Respect your elders!" "Tattoos originated in Korea da ze!" He totally is that old.

Oliver (2p! England) holds a bake sale and has people lined up for blocks to get some. Arthur (England), after having his scones shut down after it poisoned some unlucky squirrels, fries selling authentic magical items like unicorn hair or pixie dust. Everyone thinks he's a little crazy but he did sell a good bit of old magic books he needed to get out of his house, after making sure no one could actually use them of course.

The Nordics also went perusing for antique and handmade furniture when Mathias (Denmark) spots two full sets of Viking costumes and tries to get Lukas (Norway) to try them on with him. Lukas wasn't amused.

Berwald (Sweden) and Tino (Finland) also find a great handmade table to get after inspecting the workmanship and a full Lego set for Peter (Sealand), now if only Mathias would stop squealing like a little kid at the full piece lego death star. Emil (Iceland) keeps thinking he's the mature one until he spots a mini top hat and cane for Mr. Puffin.

In the end, everyone ends up wearing umbrella hats courtesy of Hawaii and Alaska, loving all the strange things they bought or counting the profits they made. Alfred (America) is proud of his kids and visits everyone one of their stands. He ends up looking pretty funny with an umbrella hat (HW, AK), a washboard, (AL),a picture of Florida Man, (FL), a balloon alien (NM, AZ), a tye dye shirt (CA, WA, OR), hockey stick shaped glasses (MN, MI), a giant stack of comics with a replica Thor hammer and Captain America shield on his back, all in a shopping cart (NV), and a giant turkey leg in his hand (Tx). Unsurprisingly, it was a tie between Oliver, Texas, and Australia for who earned the most with their food. Georgia just smiled as this was another great year for her state and people!

30 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Text

Dr. Cold’s Chiller Theater (Indruck)

Prompt for the 16: Chills. This fill is NSFW

Duck is carefully gluing a mast to his model of the USS Constellation when a comically loud crash rattles down the outside stairs. His new neighbor must be having a hell of a Sunday morning.

He caps his glue and steps out the door to see if he needs to call an ambulance. A stack of boxes outside the door has toppled, sending posters, books, and DVD cases waterfalling to the parking lot. Another box has tipped towards the house, and a man’s voice is busy cursing as Duck calls, “hey, you need a hand?”

“If one is available, yes.”

“On it.” He picks his way down, gathering DVDs into a smaller, cardboard box. It’s an interesting mix of horror from every decade of film and rom coms with titles like A Cowboy for Christmas and Red Dust on His Soul. When the box is full, he tucks to stray posters under his arm and picks up a third that’s partially unrolled. A face surrounded by silver hair and sporting blood-red glasses peeks out at him.

“Holy shit” he laughs with delighted recognition, “Dr. Cold’s Chiller Theater, I fuckin loved that show. Didn’t know there was anyone else in Kepler who’d seen his stuff. Wonder what he’s up to now.”

“Currently he’s hauling boxes to and fro and exceedingly grateful for his helpful neighbor.”

Duck looks up. The face from the poster, aged-up a few decades, grins down at him as red glasses are lowered down the bridge of a narrow nose.

“And it’s always nice to meet a fan.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The worst part of being a broke college student is ping-ponging between exhaustion and boredom. Duck is stewing in the latter feeling as he flips channels at eleven forty-five p.m, wishing he could go out and do something but knowing he doesn’t have the cash for it. And all his friends are busy working some shitty job or another (he’s still in his Blockbuster polo). The only benefit is Charleston has more T.V stations than Kepler, so his channel flipping isn’t quite as bleak as it was in high school.

Just as he hits channel ten, the words “Dr. Cold’s Chiller Theater” splatter on the screen, giving way to a chorus of canned screams, maniacal laughs, and organ music. Then he’s staring at a plush, red chair surrounded by bubbling test tubes. In it perches a man wearing a mad scientist's lab coat and a wide, unnerving grin.

“Good evening my gorgeous ghouls. It is I, Dr. Cold, here with another little story to chill you, thrill you, and probably not fulfill you. We’re on a budget, after all.” He winks as a boom mic lowers into the shot, “tonight we’ll be screening an old favorite of mine; ‘The Thing From Another World.” Descriptive title, no?”

Duck snickers, rolls onto his side for a comfier view.

“Since this film is set at the snowy north pole, I suggest cuddling up with a warm beverage” he lifts one of the smoking flasks to his lips, “while we enjoy ‘The Thing from Another World.”

The flick is okay, but Duck keeps watching for the in-between segments, where Dr. Cold sends them off to or leads them back from the commercial breaks. He quips about loving how the film shows “the good, wholesome fun of young men tying each other up” and, when scolding them not to touch that dial, adds, “you know better than to disobey your doctor” with such a purr that Duck’s cheeks go pink.

By the time the show ends and Dr. Cold bids them goodnight and reminds them not to leave their windows open because “you never know where I might be” Duck is hooked

“I’m serious man, I watched your show every week. Er, I guess twice a week that last year when they ran you Friday and Saturday.” Duck slides a Coke can over to Indrid. They’re taking a well earned break after herding all the remaining boxes inside.

“That was a wild time; those were the same years that people actually paid me to host events and such. I was just excited that I could have more than one costume. I had fun matching them to the movies.”

Duck remembers those; the vampire and the demon joining the mad scientist. He never knew which one would be grinning at him from the screen, just that he’d have his hand down his boxers by the second time they were shown.

The strangest revelation of the afternoon is that Indrid is only two years older than him; he was a starving artist and a college drop-out with a friend at a local T.V station who put in a good word for him.

He’s spent much of their time together asking Duck about himself and what he likes about Kepler, showing genuine excitement when Duck offers to show him around the national forest. Duck’s happy to chat about his hometown, but his curiosity his getting the best of him.

“So, uh, how’d you end up in Kepler.”

Indrid fidgets with a moth-shaped necklace, “I, ah, purchased the Orion Theater.”

“Holy shit, really? I thought they were gonna close it.”

“I slipped in a bid at the last moment. You, ah, it may sound silly and old fashioned but I’ve always wanted to own a movie theater. The Orion serves Kepler at three other small towns, so it stands a better chance of survival than some other options I considered. And I can do most of the repairs myself.”

“That’s so fuckin’ cool. If you, uh, ever want an extra set of hands gettin’ it ready I’m happy to help. Might even be able to rope a few friends into it.”

“Thank you, Duck.” Indrid smiles, fingers with chipped black polish curling around his drink, “If I need aid, I know who to come to.”

-----------------------------------------------

“...Pigeon, if you could help test the concession machines, then everyone else will be on paint or spackle duty. Oh, and I’ll order pizza for lunch for everyone again, and please help yourselves to the drinks case if you need it.” Indrid grabs the polish he’s been using for the wooden frames of the seats and follows one half of the group into theater one. Orion only has two, both decorated in a faux-Egyptian style; columns, stars on the ceiling, palms and pyramids painted on the walls. Luckily the shapes are intact and just need touching up, and he has a whole crowd to help him.

When Duck offered assistance, Indrid assumed it would be one or two extra sets of hands. It turns out that having your neighbor and friend be a long-time Keplerite with accumulated goodwill is rather handy.

“‘Drid, you mind bracing the ladder for me?”

He hurries over to stand on the base as Duck hauls a can of green paint up to fix some palm fronds. Their positions mean Indrid is eye-level with his belly, making desire popcorn through his chest.

It barely took them a week to become friends, joining each other for dinner or walks through the woods. Then Duck would sit on Indrid’s couch, reading while he drew up a list of public domain movies that might draw a crowd at the Orion. Or Indrid would sketch while Duck worked on a model ship, conversation flowing like a river that learned it’s path long ago.

One of those nights, Duck chuckled his way through a confession.

“Y’know, Dr. Cold was one of the first dude celebrity crushes I allowed myself. You looked so goddamn cool and, I dunno, spine-chilling in a good way that I even bought a poster to put in my room.”

Indrid bites his lip to keep from asking if he inspires the same feelings now, “That’s very sweet; I got lewd fanmail now and then, but my looks were an acquired taste before I even put on my monster make-up.”

“Not everyone appreciates a good lookin’ fella when they see one.” Duck winks, then hops up to shoo Winnie the cat from where she’s trying to open a bag of Cheetos.

Ever since that conversation, Indrid indulges in the occasional moment of monstrous hunger. When he and Duck pass each other in the mornings, the ranger in his uniform, Indrid watches him walk to his car, eyes on the shape of his ass and thighs. When they’re on the couch talking or watching a movie and Duck stretches, Indrid imagines pinning him down, nails digging into the muscles of his arms. And right now, he wants to surge up like a creature from the deep and sink his teeth through the well-worn Cramps shirt and suck a hickey into his belly.

He refrains, since he doesn’t want to make his friend fall and also he’s yet to hit upon the right words to express, “Your body was designed to drive me wild and I regularly cum thinking about groping your belly while I fuck you.”

“It look good from down there?” Duck glances at him for approval.

Indrid peers over the rims of his glasses, “It looks wonderful.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s on his way back from dinner at Juno’s when he spots the lights on in the Orion. Indrid’s car is in front, so he pulls in next to it and grabs the tupperware of brownies Juno made him take home.

The theater is due to re-open in two days, and he knows Indrid is stressed. But so help him if he finds him at his desk, half-buried in screening contracts, he’s throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him to the car.

As he tucks his spare key into his pocket, his friends voice lilts, “Duck? Is everything alright?”

“Yep, just came to check...on...holy fuck.” He sets the tupperware on the concession counter, eyes firmly on the brand new mural between the theaters. It’s a swirl of black and white, with splashes of color thrown in on a costume or a pair of eyes, showing characters from classic movies.

“You like it? I finished it in two days and I’m rather pleased.” Indrid wipes his hands on paint-spatter jeans.

“It’s amazing, ‘Drid.” He steps closer, drapes an arm over his friend’s shoulder, “you really done right by this place, you know that? Folks are gonna come just cause they can feel how much goddamn love and care went into it.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Indrid sighs, rests his head against Duck, “though I do hope they come for the movies too.”

To Duck’s joy, Indrid’s hopes are soon realized. His friend picks a good mixture of new releases and classics, budgets smartly so he can get big-ticket movies on their opening weekends. He takes audience feedback in a recycled film canister, runs double features where you can buy two boxes of candy for the price of one, sets aside Sunday afternoons and weeks with lots of forecasted rain for screening kids movies.

When Duck’s birthday rolls around, the marquee announces a double feature of Jurassic Park and Into the Wild for the night after his birthday party.

Indrid works Kepler with the same eye towards making himself a community fixture he did when he was doing Dr. Cold. He and Ned--the owner of the Cryptonomica--coordinate so Indrid will show cheesy movies that tie to Ned’s latest exhibit. He lets people rent the theater for birthday parties and, on one occasion, a wedding. And he hires high schoolers and kids from the community college, never scolds them for doing homework in the ticket booth as long as everyone gets served and pays them well.

Duck is especially grateful for that last choice; he wants Indrid to succeed, but it would suck to lose their lazy nights together. Indrid has gotten more comfortable being demonstrative, lounging against Duck as they watch T.V or read, and Duck hates the thought of losing those hours of comforting contact.

Tonight they’ve rooted through Indrid’s DVD collection and are halfway through Creature from the Haunted Sea. Indrid is heckling the screen, cracking Duck up whenever he does.

“Hey, you ever think of bringing back Dr. Cold? Just at the Orion? You could host in-person, make it a whole thing where heckling is encouraged..”

“Hmm” Indrid flops so his head is in Duck’s lap, “I’d certainly enjoy such a thing. But I doubt many other people have the attachment to the show that you do.”

“Don’t mean you couldn’t create a whole new fan base. And I ain’t just sayin’ that because I loved the old show; you’re good at that stuff, ‘Drid. You deserve a chance to show off, to have folks cheer for you a little.”

Indrid blushes, hides his face in Duck’s stomach, “Will you promise to come to the first one?”

“You know it.”

He feels the grin against his shirt, “Then I’ll do it.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Gonna go out on a limb and say we’re at the theater.” Duck smirks at Indrid from the passenger seat.

“The blindfold doesn’t happen until we’re through the doors.” In his leather jacket and tight pants, Indrid looks like every skinny art punk Duck had a crush on in college. He suspects Indrid knows this, though he’s not sure why he’s bringing him to the theater well after the last showing of the day is done.

Once they’re in the lobby, Indrid ties a blindfold around his head and leads him down into theater one. When the fabric is whipped away, Duck is seated in the front row with a cart of food in front of it and Indrid looking very proud of himself beside that.

“I got at least one of all your favorite items from concessions. I have also queued up three of the worst movies I’ve ever seen for us to enjoy.”

“What’s all this for?” Duck grabs the box of peanut M&Ms.

“I, ah, since Chiller Theater is such a success I’ve been giving up more of my weekends and well I, ah, I miss our movie nights together. I thought it could be nice to have one here for a change.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ve missed ‘em too.”

Indrid rushes up to the projector room then back down, dropping into his seat as the title card for The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies blares across the screen. It’s so bad that by the time the “climax” arrives they’re busy trying to land popcorn in each other's mouths.

“Damn, used to be good at this.” Duck bounces a kernel off Indrid’s chin.

“Perhaps try something weightier?”

Duck grabs a plain M&M and manages to land it in Indrids pocket.

“Impressive. Oh, one moment, let me go put in the next film.”

Once Indrid switches to the The Hideous Sun Demon, Duck hands him the box of candy.

“You try me some more.”

Indrid bonks two off his cheek, then gets one onto his tongue.

“Success! You make an excellent target.”

“Been told I got a big mouth.”

“I like your mouth.” Indrid winks, then blushes and looks away.

Duck sets his popcorn safely on the next chair, “Wanna see what else it can do?”

Indrid’s eyes widen like a horror movie hero noticing a shape in the darkness, “Yes, yes so very badly.”

Duck grabs his lapels and hauls him halfway over the armrest, shoving his tongue between his lips with all the grace of an impatient teenager. Indrid laughs, muffled and ecstatic, pulling back long enough to remove his glasses. The black and white light makes his features all the more alien and twice as lovely.

“Fuck you’re amazing.” Duck strokes silvery hair.

“Such praise for one little kiss.”

“Get your cute ass in my lap so it can be more.”

“I could do that” Indrid traces a finger in a heart on Duck’s cheek, “or…” He slides from the seat and onto his knees in front of the ranger, hands hovering above his fly, “assuming that is alright?”

“It’s so fuckin alright.” He untucks his as Indrid undoes the zipper. When his bare stomach appears, Indrid goes strangely still.

“You okay?”

“Yes” Indrid licks his lips, “very. I, ah, I...never mind.”

Duck grips his chin, “Uh uh, you don’t get to look at my fully-clothed body like you’re watchin a hardcore porn and not tell me what you’re thinkin’ about.”

“I, I, ah, I think you are an exceedingly handsome man but I, ah, I’m very fond of your” his voice softens, “belly in particular.”

Duck sets his hand on his stomach, raising an eyebrow, “this thing?”

“Yes.” Indrid tips forward to nuzzle the buttons of his shirt, needy little sounds creeping from his throat.

“In that case, howsabout you show it some love while you jerk me off?”

“Yes, yesyesplease.” Indrid bounces in place as Duck gets his pants and boxers below his knees, doesn’t even give him the chance to start on his buttons. He just shoves his shirt up and presses a kiss above his belly button.

“Heh, kinda tickles” Duck pets his hair as monstrous shadows flicker on it, groans when cool fingers tease his dick, “that don’t, fuck I ain’t gotten a decent handjob in ages.”

Indrid kisses an arc across his stomach, “that is a shame. I wish you’d told me sooner, I’m just dying to make that right.”

“Seems to me all I had to do was lift my shirt durin’ one of our movie and you woulda been on the rug with my dick in your mouth.”

“Indeed” Indrid nips his skin.

“I’ll keep that in miIIIInnnd ohfuck, yeah, little more pressure please, fuck, that’s it.” He tangles his hands into Indrid’s hair, holding his moaning mouth against him as two fingers stroke and press inside him. Then a thought flashes in his mind and he laughs, “hang on, is this why you had to stay in the water so long that time we went to the lake?”

In place of a reply, Indrid whines, embarrassed, and nods, the movement giving way to affectionate rubbing of his cheek and nose on Duck’s abdomen.

“Just about makes us even for all the times I had to rub one out because of your show.”

Indrid sits back on his heels, swiping his thumb along Duck’s dick, “Are you joking?”

“Dead seriousohFUCK” he gasps as steady, precise touches give way to full-on finger fucking, Indrid surging up to kiss him, “‘Drid, darlin’, right there, fuck fuck.”

“I, I cannot believe you wanted me then, want me now, Duck, sweetheart” he licks and nips at Duck’s neck, their gasps drowning out the horror stings ringing from the speakers. He works his hips in time with Indrid’s hand, chasing an orgasm that hovers out of reach for several agonizingly delicious minutes before crashing into him when Indrid confesses he’s fantasized about this since his second week in Kepler.

As Duck catches his breath, Indrid stands on unsteady legs to wipe his hand on a napkin. He’s so hard, Duck’s pretty sure he can hear his zipper splitting.

The ranger pats his lap, “C’mere, doctor.”

Indrid snorts, amused, and does his best to straddle him in the cramped theater seat. Duck pops his black jeans open, sets Indrid’s hands on his shoulders, “keep those there.”

“Wh-oh! Ohhhhhhhyes” He wiggles excitedly as Duck grips his cock with one hand while placing the other on the small of his back, making it so he’s jerking the other man off against his belly.

“You, uh wanna know another secret?”

“Y-yes” Indrid bucks his hips, scattering kisses across Duck’s face.

“Had different fantasies about you depending on the costume. Used to think about you in the vampire one, layin’ me out in some fancy-ass bed and biting my skin black and blue. Or the mad scientist one, that was my favorite, you looked so fuckin hot and unhinged in it. I’d imagine I was some fella you kidnapped and kept in your lab for all kinds of experiments, that you’d fuck me open with toy after toy or make me cum so many times I lost count, all in the name of your ‘research,’ laughing at me when I begged and kissin’ me whenever you wanted because you fuckin owned me.”

“Ohgoodness.” Indrid squeaks, cumming on Duck’s torso and spasming in his arms as he finishes. They hold each other tight as the sun demon leaves a trail of destruction through Los Angeles.

Gradually, Indrid zips his pants up and half-heartedly starts smoothing Duck’s clothes as he murmurs, “I should get you something to clean off with. And I need to clean this chair before we leave.”

“Guess it’s mighty rude to have customers sittin’ somewhere your boyfriend got cum all over.”

“Boyfriend?” Indrid sits up enough that he can look down at Duck, brown eyes sleepy and intrigued.

“Uh, I mean, if you want me to be. If this is just a spur of the moment thing-”

A finger shushes him, “I want it so badly, my gorgeous ghoul.”

Duck giggles, pulls him down for another kiss, “In that case, can your boyfriend take you on a date next week. If, uh, you need a break from movies, we could go bowlin’ or somethin’.”

“You pick, sweetheart. As long as you’re with me, I know I’ll be happy.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #promptober #trans duck newton #duck x indrid

13 notes · View notes

coccinelle-et-chaton · 3 years

Text

Adrinette April Day 2: Rebellion

@adrinetteapril

Read on AO3 scene adapted from Chapter 9 of The Wall Between Us

Marinette let go of a long sigh as she reclined her back against the cool wood of the bench. She was at the park next to her house. It had been a long, long day at school and she was happy that it was finally behind her. Sketching for a few minutes, sitting under the cool shade of a tree always helped her shed the frustrations of the day; particularly one as taxing as this one. She made herself comfortable on the bench, took a deep breath, and gathered her creativity, focusing it at the tip of her pencil as she prepared to spill it into a design. As she did this, she lifted her sight to find the muse of the day, something that might be worth putting into paper.

Something like... Adrien sneaking out of fencing practice?

The girl observed him from a baffled distance, witnessing the way he sported an uncharacteristic devious smirk on his face as he hurriedly descended down the steps of the school, two at a time. He looked to each side of the street, as if looking for spies, and darted in Marinette’s direction; to the park.

The comical then happened: Stepping into the park, he shed his usual white overshirt and shoved it into his sports bag, produced an unassuming grey hoodie along with an insulting neon green cap, and quickly put them on. Merrily, he walked with a light spring towards the park kiosk to buy himself a soda and then proceeded to find a bench to sit on.

Witnessing Adrien being so evidently pleased at breaking the rules was like watching a cat walk on its hindlegs: bizarre, to say the least.

Marinette giggled at his confidence; at how sure he seemed that no one would be able to tell his identity under this poorly-thought disguise. She gathered the courage to go talk to him, just for a quick hello. Making the most of the fact he had not spotted her yet, she approached from behind him.

“FYI, you stick out like a sore thumb with that cap on,” she said, startling Adrien and prying a tiny gasp from him.

“Marinette!” he cried, tugging at his cap as if doing so might conceal his face better. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um... Designs,” she said lamely, lifting her sketchbook for Adrien to see. “But what are you doing here? Don’t you have fencing today?”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “How do you--”

Marinette’s face became red with embarrassment, quickly interrupting him hoping she hadn’t exposed the things she knew about him. “Just a lucky guess, heh, heh.”

“I’m sneaking out,” he said, scanning the surroundings.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because you never know. Natalie always catches me. Sometimes I feel like she tapped my phone or something.”

Marinette pressed her lips into a sympathetic smile, with her courage quickly returning to her to poke fun at him a little more, “Well, one thing is for sure. You’re making it easy for her with that neon green thing on you.”

“It’s the only cap I could find in the morning! Is it really that bad?”

“Take it off. You call less attention without it,” Marinette said with a giggle. “You wouldn’t be able to hide your identity for the life of you.”

Adrien laughed. “I’ll have you know I have excellent camouflaging skills.”

“Right, right. And I’m Ladybug.”

Adrien grinned at her. His delighted heart missed a beat or two as he relished in the possibility.

“Anyway,” Marinette said, nervousness building up inside of her at the prospect of being alone with Adrien. “I should probably get going, good luck with the sneaking out.”

“Wait!” Adrien said, more disappointed than he wanted to sound. “I, um... Would you like to spend some time with me? We could find something to do. If you’re not busy, that is.”

Marinette ignored the warm blush that crept on her cheeks. “What-- yes. Co fourse! I mean of course! I mean--heh. Yeah, what--what did you have in mind?”

Adrien beamed at her, stood up, and then gave her a little devilish smirk. Marinette couldn’t help but be both a little worried and infinitely curious to know what sorts of trouble Adrien wanted to get into.

They headed back to the kiosk again, this time with the mission of filling Adrien’s backpack with as many snacks as they could fit. To the clerk’s satisfaction, that involved practically emptying the little hut out of the day’s stock.

Loot packed up and horrible neon green caps out of the way, Adrien led Marinette to stage two of his plan. They headed a few blocks away from the park, to a residential area where Adrien started testing for unlocked front doors in the apartment buildings.

“What are you doing?” Marinette asked, a bit bewildered.

“Looking for an open door,” Adrien explained, simultaneously finding what he was searching for. “Ah! Success!” he exclaimed, pushing the door open. “After you prin--After you.”

Marinette gave him a suspicious look but did his bidding, following him inside and then onto the building’s stairs.

“Adrien what are you doing?” Marinette asked again, more evidently worried. “We’re going to get in trouble!”

“No, we’re not,” he assured her as he consistently climbed up the staircase. “Trust me.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve done this before,” she said as she reached the very last floor, finding Adrien negotiating with the lock of the only door there.

He pulled what looked like a fancy, metal credit card from his wallet, and used to click the lock open. Marinette snorted at the sight.

“Why use a platinum credit card in the Champs Elysees when you can use it to perform a misdemeanor,” Marinette said.

“My thoughts exactly,” Adrien said with a wink, pushing the door to the roof open and seizing an indistinct brick that lay there to prevent the door from shutting close.

“You are an actual teenage vandal aren’t you,” Marinette said, absolutely bewildered at Adrien’s criminal tendencies. “So is this how you spend your free time? Breaking into people’s roofs?”

Adrien giggled as he found a spot to sit near the edge of the building. “In a way, I guess you could say that.”

Marinette shook her head, still in shock as she joined Adrien.

Worried at her silence, and that she might think less of him for this little escapade, Adrien hurried to look for her validation. “Are you mad? I swear I’ve only done it a couple of times and if it makes you really uncomfortable we can go down. I’m sorry.”

Marinette turned to see Adrien’s worried, expectant face. “What? No, no. I’m not mad! It’s okay. It’s just... I never thought you had it in you to be this...”

“Bad?” he asked, sadness staining his tone.

“Rebellious,” she offered instead. “It’s a bit odd. At school, you’re always so, so... perfect.”

Adrien scrunched up his nose. “I know, I hate it,” he confessed, pulling his legs to his chest responding to a subconscious need to hide.

Trying not to delve too much into the thought, he reached for the bag where the snacks were and emptied their little treasure between them. He gestured for Marinette to have the first pick, which she indulged by grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of sparkling pink lemonade.

Adrien grabbed a pack of fruit gummies and plain sparkling water as he spoke again. “Most of the stuff I do, I do it for my father.” He sighed and then continued quietly. “But it doesn’t matter how hard I work, it always feels like it’s not good enough for him and I’m tired of pretending to be someone I am not.”

Marinette’s heart wrung at Adrien’s confession. A small part of her did wonder what brought him to trust her like this so out of the blue, but this and any of her other reservations flew out the window at the sight of him being so evidently upset. It pained Marinette to see him like that.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Why? It’s not your fault.”

“I mean, I’m sorry that... that your father makes you feel that way.”

Adrien looked down, hugging his legs a little tighter.

“But you can always be yourself around me,” she offered, with her voice trembling.

Adrien’s saddened pout slowly melted into a warm smile. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I like spending time with you, Marinette. You’re the greatest friend I could possibly have asked for.”

She tried not to pay too much attention to the utter disappointment that washed over her at the idea of Adrien seeing her as just a friend. Instead, she focused on the part that mattered: That he could have someone with whom he didn’t feel the need to pretend or put up an act. As Ladybug, she knew the burden all too well and didn’t wish it on anyone, certainly not on Adrien.

“Yep,” she said. “That’s what friends are for! Heh, heh.”

“And um, you, too.”

“Me, too?”

“I mean, you don’t have to pretend around me...” he said, taken aback by the fact he was inexplicably blushing. “I notice that you always get, er... a little tongue-tied.”

“Oh!” Marinette piped, perking up with the dread that suddenly seized her. “That. Ha, ha. That’s nothing! I just... have... uh... you know me. I don’t-- I, why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, shrugging. “It’s just, this is the first real conversation you and I have ever had. It’s... nice. I wish we could do it more often.”

Marinette laughed nervously, beyond herself with mortification and wondering whether Adrien actually knew the kind of influence he had on her. Maybe he did and he just enjoyed messing with her.

“I just... get a little nervous, that’s all,” she said sheepishly.

“Why? Is it because I’m famous?” Adrien said, adopting a smug flair. One that helped Marinette overcome her embarrassment faster than she could say ‘Lucky Charm’. She didn’t know exactly why, but Adrien’s smug, rebellious side--the side she had been witness to for the good part of the last few hours, helped her feel more at ease, more willing to use her own sass on him.

She rolled her eyes and playfully jabbed him with her arm. “You’re so full of yourself, aren’t you? And here I was, thinking you were a perfectly polite, quiet, well-behaved boy. How wrong I was.”

“I’m all of those things!” Adrien protested as he shoved an indiscriminate handful of gummies into his mouth and leaned back. “But, you know,” he added with a small wink. “What other people don’t know, won’t kill them.”

“Show-off,” Marinette teased.

“Only with the right audience,” Adrien said, defending himself.

Adrien was about to remark how Marinette was one to talk. How she convinced him of being the class sweetheart when in reality she was as sassy as they come. Unfortunately, he’d have to save that joke for later, because as they bantered, an Akuma rose in the distance.

Duty called.

#adrinetteapril2021 #adrinetteapril #adrinette #day 2 - rebellion #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic

33 notes · View notes

100yearoldcomics · 2 years

Text

January 29, 1922 The Captain & the Kids by Rudolph Dirks

TOP PANEL: [ID: The Kids run away from der Captain, following with a plank of wood, and Mama, holding an indiscernible blunt object. /end] Captain: Chost vun vallop, you lobsters. Den, maybe I listen to a explanotion! Mama: Ditto, you valrus, ditto!!

MAIN COMIC: [ID: Mama stands at a table, slicing bread. The Kids stand beside her, stifling giggles, as der Captain and der Inspector talk. /end] Mama: Ahem! If you got any bitzness in der basement, Captain, remember, der party iss by eight sharp! Captain: Down der subvay, Inspector, und help me see if der refreshments iss all Jacob for der reception! Inspector: Oh, sure! I'm mit you to a man, Cap!

[ID: The Kids follow the two to their still in the basement. While der Inspector fills a mug with hooch and der Captain readies the bottles, Hans carries a hose and Fritz (among other things) brings a couple boxes of washing powder and yeast. /end] Fritz: Vell, here iss der pop-gun if you got der "pop" mit der "pep," Professor! Hans: Don't vorry about me, boy! Captain: Ha! Extra pale mit bitters in, Inspector. Und chust like der old gray mule vont, I bet!! Inspector: Vell, Cap, der proof of der puddink iss der test, und I'm villing!

[ID: Unseen by the men, Fritz begins churning together a mixture in a large bowl while Hans fills one of der Captain's bottles with gas from a nearby gas lamp. Meanwhile, der Inspector eyes his mug of booze alongside der Captain. /end] Fritz: Und ven you come to der barrel darlink, chust dump in der yeast, vash powder, und seidlitz seltzers, den let nature haff its course! Hans: Vatch nature voik vunders ven der gas iss mixed mit a liddle heat! Captain: Yum-yum, such a header. I vunder it didn't blow oudt der whole dod soused barrel, Inspector!! Inspector: Ahem! If der kick iss as clear as der color, Cap, I'm happy.

[ID: Hans torches the bottles with a blowtorch while der Captain inspects them. /end] Hans: Dey iss getting varm, Fritz, chust vatch dese babies if I ain't wrong on physics!! Captain: Chimly cricks, Inspector, chust off der ice und already like a hot cross bun!! Inspector: Tee-hee, maybe dot's a sure sign der bitters iss bubbling, Cap. You got to experiment mit experience, you know!

[ID: The cork pops out of the bottle and hits der Captain in the eye. The Kids begin laughing uproariously. Der Inspector drops his mug on the floor in surprise. /end] Captain: HI! Inspector: Oh, chimbly!

[ID: All the corks explode off the bottles in a spray of illicit booze. Der Captain holds his eye, but he's just as surprised as der Inspector. The Kids keep laughing on the stairs. /end] Fritz: Dere goes der pop, sport! Captain: Dunner-vetter, look Inspector, it's all a riot! Inspector: Oops! I knew it, too much mustard, you bet!!

[ID: While Hans pours the mixture into the barrel, Fritz aims a cork gun at der Inspector. Meanwhile, der Captain and der Inspector argue. /end] Captain: ...bah! Dod gast der luck. Only vun safed in der bunch, und for five days didn't I vatch dem bottles! Inspector: Chass? Vell, vatch dot vun und vare you iss pointing it. I haff a feeling dot baby don't feel vell eider!! Hans: "Six quarts of yeast und den add der fizzle," right!

[ID: Fritz fires the cork into der Inspector's eye while Hans lays down explosives behind him. /end] Captain: OOPS! Hans: Hayy, pop goes der pea-shooter!

[ID: Der Inspector punches der Captain in the face. Hans stuffs the explosives under the barrel as Fritz runs up the stairs. /end] Inspector: Loafer! Take dot und der knext time, you bet I hand you sumting mit a vallop in! Hans: Take it easy sport, you got anudder KICK coming!

[ID: Der Captain holds his injured nose as der Inspector is startled to notice the barrel, violently foaming over. /end] Captain: OO-IE! Such a temper dot man got! Neffer again vill I inwite him to no party, I von't!! Inspector: ?

[ID: The barrel literally explodes, throwing der Captain and der Inspector up into the air. /end]

[ID: As a sleighing party arrives at their doorstep, der Captain struggles to pull der Inspector rom the snow and the rubble of their home. Mama angrily points out the just-arrived revelers. The Kids snicker to themselves as they walk off. /end] Captain: Quick Mamma, der shofel, der shofel!! Mama: Foolishers! Der party, who's going to recief der guests? Partier: Hmm! It looks like a snowball for a highball!

#newspaper comics #vintage #history #1922 #the katzenjammer kids #the captain & the kids #rudolph dirks #transcript available #1920s #prohibition

5 notes · View notes

angelinasway · 3 years

Text

Regaining Hope

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: I should first say that this takes place about eight and a half years after the first arc of the Season 8 Buffy Comics, however I’m only using aspects of cannon. The back story will not follow the comics as you will be able to see pretty quickly in this chapter. Secondly, I actually really do love Lois so please don’t bash me for being self-indulgent by wanting to see my two favorite Superheroes get together. I can promise you all that there will be no Lois bashing in this fic. Thirdly, as far as Clark’s story goes it follows Man Of Steel so if you’ve seen the movie you know his story. Thanks for giving this a chance I hope you all enjoy reading. Also thank you to my wonderful beta Hipkarma for giving this chapter a look for me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Chapter One

Buffy lurched as the helicopter made touchdown onto the ice. She closed her eyes briefly, mentally preparing herself for what was sure to be a battle of wills between her and one Colonel Hardy. She hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, but just by his photo she could tell he was going to be a pain in the ass. There wasn’t much love lost between the Watchers Council and the U.S military. Not since Maggie Walsh and the Initiative, and certainly not since General Voll. The Governments of the world as a whole always seemed to have a really bad habit of sticking their noses in things they just didn't understand, hence why she was here in the freezing Canadian Arctic in the first place. Willow had created a program that had been monitoring all military chatter since Voll decided to commandeer Amy and a skinlessly resurrected Warren to attack the W.C. Headquarters in Scotland. That had been almost ten years ago, and since then Buffy had been dealing with countless other countries attempting to harness power or create weapons out of a force that they just didn’t seem to understand could never be controlled. The U.S however, had managed to keep their noses pretty clean since General Voll, even going as far as to work with her and ask for her help when needed. That’s why it was such a surprise to find out that they had found something buried in the snow that predated civilization and were trying to keep it under wraps. Especially from the W.C. And to make matters worse, she was just coming off a week-long mission from hell. Just last week she caught Russia restarting their subspecies research facility and when the shit had finally hit the fan, she had been forced to send in a team resulting in the deaths of two of her girls. After that, she and Wesley had spent the next day getting a hold of the girl’s families, which of course left her holding a big-ol-bag of guilt and the nightmares and sleepless nights to go along with it. So, to say she was cranky and pissed to hear about the U.S. keeping stuff from her would have been an understatement. She was furious! However, she was also willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe this actually wasn’t her jurisdiction. The Helicopter door slid open pulling her from her mental preparation. She blinked when her eyes met a pair of startlingly brilliant blues, surrounded by a handsomely rugged face, and scruffy beard. A green baseball cap adorned his head, hiding what she assumed from the few strands that were messily poking out of the brim was hair so brown it was almost black. He was probably somewhere in his mid-twenties, though on second inspection his eyes held the maturity of someone closer to her age. “Here let me help you.” He said loudly, so his voice could be heard over the whirling of the propeller and the grind of the engine. He held out a large gloved hand as she undid her seat belt and stood on unsteady legs. Her own gloved hand reaching for the strangers. As soon as her hand touched his however, she gasped, almost recoiling in fear, her inner Slayer rearing her head at the sudden sensation of power. And wow, was it powerful. She had never sensed anything like what was behind this man’s strong grip in all her years of slaying. It didn’t feel mystical in nature and it certainly wasn’t demonic. It was almost foreign, as if it didn’t belong here. Strength knew strength however, no matter where it originated from and her Slayer sensed him with a voraciousness that she had never experienced before. She felt a bit light headed and weak kneed by the sensation, and she had to shake her head to clear it of the roaring in her ears. Her eyes shot to his, widening in bewilderment and for a split second he had the look of a dear caught in the headlights. It was gone the next instant though, and a mask of a charmingly shy and unassuming guy replaced it. ‘Quick reflexes then, and someone who’s used to hiding in plain sight.’ The look worked well on him and she admired the quick cover. Only someone who had been living a double life could pull off a cover like that. Regardless of her admiration though, she needed to know if this guy was a threat or not. Especially with the way her Slayer was chomping at the bit and her heart pounding in her ears. So, she squeezed his hand slightly harder than she’d ever dare on someone human, just to let him know he wasn’t the only one standing there that was something other. It had the desired effect, though the fact that he didn’t wince was a little unnerving. His eyes shot to hers as she passed him, an innocent mixture of awe, curiosity, and fear burning in his irises. She knew then. He was no threat to her. The eyes were the windows to the soul and there was no doubt this man or whatever he was, had one. Plus, there was no way anyone could pull off a look that full of innocence if they had nefarious intentions. She removed her hand, breaking the overstimulation to her senses. She tried her best to cover what she had just felt by giving him a brilliant smile and winking conspiratorially. “Normally I would be worried about anyone carrying my bags considering how heavy they are, but something tells me it’s not gonna be a problem with you.” “Buffy Summers?” A new voice asked, distracting her from her assessment of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Muscular. She turned to meet the kind eyes of another man not much older than herself. "Hi." She said in greeting, reaching her hand out to shake. "Jed Eubanks, Arctic Cargo, nice to finally meet you, Miss Summers." Buffy raised an eyebrow in surprise, side eyeing Mr. Powerful for any reaction. "You heard of me?" She asked, watching the stranger’s reaction. When all she got was a look of curiosity and befuddlement her hackles finally lowered enough to completely believe that whatever or whoever he was didn’t have to do with her being here. Eubanks grinned, commanding her full attention as he said, “Little more than that, I was stationed in Afghanistan about five years ago. My chopper went down near Baghaln.” Buffy winced. “I remember that, a terrorist organization had commissioned hellhounds and were feeding their hostages to them.” “Saw you fighting that day.” He nodded. “Never seen anything like it in my life.” He paused, almost as if he was gathering up the courage to continue. “I was next in line you know, if it wasn’t for you and yours, I’d have been dog chow. I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life Miss Summers.” Buffy smiled softly at the man. It had been a while since she’d been thanked so sincerely. She linked her arm with his. “Call me Buffy, I’m sure I’m gonna have Miss Summers shouted at me enough today to give me flashbacks of high school.” Eubanks laughed. “Well, least you know you got one person rooting for you.” Buffy’s eyes traveled back to the mysterious stranger, who had been watching them with rapt attention. Questions, fear, and confusion still simmering in his eyes. She imagined it was very much similar to the look she was giving him, curiosity brimming over like an over flowing stream. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, hoping he understood it was her way of saying they would speak later, before she turned back to Jed and plastered on a huge smile. “Now show me where this camp is. The sooner I get this over with, the happier I’ll be.”

******

Clark watched the young blonde woman walk away with Jed, his heart galloping in his chest. She knew. Somehow, she was able to sense he was different. Part of him was horrified at the prospect of her walking into the basecamp below and announcing to the entire camp what and who he was. It was an old fear, one that had guided him and comforted him on cold lonely nights. If he just kept disappearing, no one would ever know the truth. Another part of him however, was beyond curious about her. How could she sense him like that, was she an alien too? When she squeezed his hand earlier it hadn’t hurt, but had he been a normal man it very well may have fractured a bone or two, and he doubted she just went around breaking people’s bones for the fun of it. No, she had definitely been testing his strength, which begged the question, how did she get hers? The military seemed to know her pretty well however, and even Jed himself had encountered her five years ago in Afghanistan. Which almost seemed impossible, because she really didn’t look much older than twenty-two. God, she was beautiful though, with those bright green eyes that looked older and far more tired than someone her age should be allowed to be. She was just the kind of girl he would have only dreamed of asking out when he was younger. He shook his head, finally forcing his eyes away from her retreating form, but keeping his hearing locked on her until he was sure he wouldn’t have to make a sudden and quick exit. He reached for the two duffle bags she brought with her, the first one pretty light and obviously full of clothes and toiletries. The second one however, was quite heavy and when he heard the sound of metal clanging against metal, he did a quick scan of the items in her bag and almost recoiled in shock. It was like a medieval arsenal in there, three sharp looking swords, a wicked looking red and silver axe, six daggers, four sharp looking wooden stakes, two flasks filled with some type of fluid, a cross, two pistols, a shotgun, and a pair of night vision goggles. ‘Who is this girl!’

******

“Colonel Hardy I presume.” Buffy said with a saccharine smile, holding out her hand to shake. Not at all surprised when he didn’t return the greeting. She then turned to the elderly gentlemen to his right. Her smile softening in recognition. “Dr. Hamilton, how many times do we have to run into each other before I can convince you to ditch these macho elitists and come work for me.” “Miss Summers, always a pleasure.” He said with an amused smile, side eyeing Hardy’s annoyed frown. “I wasn’t aware that you had clearance for this project?” Colonel Hardy said a little too arrogantly. Buffy’s smile grew, oh she was going to love putting this man in his place. “Oh, you wouldn’t, orders went through about,” She looked at her watch. “thirty minutes ago. You should probably be getting a call from General Swanwick any minute now.” Just as predicted, a young soldier came through the door the next second and Buffy couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed her lips. "Sir, General Swanwick is on SATCOM." It was immediate. The look of self-assurance morphed into pure annoyance within the span of mere seconds, and it was worth every bit of discomfort she was sure to receive in the next few days of her stay. Sure enough, Hardy did not disappoint. He excused himself and as he passed the officer he said, "Please ready Miss Summers accommodations and make sure they're as sparse as possible." Buffy chuckled in amusement, looking at Dr. Hamilton with a conspiratorial twinkle. "If he thinks making me crap in a bucket is gonna offend my delicate sensibility, he's mistaken." The Doctor chuckled, "I wasn't aware you had a delicate bone in your body Miss Summers." She snorted, "I hide it well." Her eyes then traveled to the scientific equipment obviously used for monitoring the anomaly. "So why don't you bring me up to speed on this find of yours, before Hardy comes back and attempts to make my life a living hell." Dr. Hamilton shook his head, leading her over to a computer screen with what looked to be a satellite image. "You do seem to enjoy ruffling their feathers." “Well, what can I say, never been much of a fan of authoritarianism. Also, not exactly easy to trust an entity that’s tried to have you killed more than once.” Buffy said, as she leaned over to get a better look at the dark blob like shape covered by layers of snow and ice. “So, what am I looking at? An Old Ones sarcophagus?” “We don’t believe its demonic in origin.” Dr. Hamilton stated. Buffy frowned in confusion, “But weren’t the samples of ice taken around the object more than twenty thousand years old? If it’s not demonic, what the hell do you think it is?” “A vessel Miss Summers,” Colonel Hardy said, walking back in the room. “A vessel not of this world.” Buffy blinked and turned around. “When you say not of this world, I’m assuming you mean…” Hardy’s smirk was patronizing. “That’s right Miss Summers, extraterrestrials. A spaceship. A topic I might add, that you know absolutely nothing about.” Buffy rolled her eyes, “Oh, as if you do.” “I know more than you Miss Summers.” Hardy responded indignantly. Buffy snorted in derision, her lip curling at this man’s stupidity. “So, what happens if you dig this thing up and you’ve got a violent alien that’s been sleeping in stasis for the last twenty thousand years?” Buffy shook her head. “Furthermore, I’ve seen Alien. What if the aliens inside crash landed on earth because a giant fucking Xenomorph is inside?” “I can assure you Miss Summers we’re taking every…” Buffy threw her arms in the air. Finally losing her patience. It looked like she was the one who was actually going to be doing the yelling today. This was just so typical, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate with Russia and Sudan creating their own Initiative-like secret facilities. “The fuck you are!” She shouted. “See this is the problem with you guys,” she pointed. “This is what happens, this is always what happens!” She started to pace, her fists clenched at her sides, uncaring of the sudden wary looks she was receiving by both Dr. and Colonel, as well as the few other scientists and soldiers in the room. “You discover something…for instance that demons and monsters exist, and instead of just killing it or leaving it the hell alone, you gotta study it, dissect it, see how it works, until eventually you’re trying to harness its power for yourselves!” She shook her head in disgust, “And do you wanna know who always has to clean up the mess? Me,” She pressed her fist against her chest, “It’s always me.” Her voice softened then, a sigh whistling between her teeth as her eyes locked on both a flabbergasted Dr. Hamilton and Colonel Hardy. Okay, maybe she went a little to far there. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame them for the previous week. “It’s not…If I was only dealing with this kinda stuff once in a while I wouldn’t be so cranky. I apologise for insinuating anything about anyone in this room.” She shook her head. “It’s just every single country on earth has their fingers in the demonic cesspool one way or another and I’m getting really sick of doing damage control on top of all my other Slayer duties, not to mention the lovely annual apocalypse that never really takes a vacation. Throw aliens in the mix now and the fact that I haven’t slept very well in a week and yeah, Buffy’s stress level just hit a new high.” Colonel Hardy’s disposition seemed to soften slightly at her words and he stepped forward, “I heard about Russia and am very sorry for your loss.” He sighed, “But we aren’t them, Miss Summers. I’m willing to play ball. Please let me be the first to promise, if we find anything that could be deemed even slightly dangerous as far as alien lifeforms go, we will hand it over to you immediately, without question.” She chewed on his words for a moment, figuring this was the best she was going to get as far as cordial cooperation went, and figured she throw out an olive branch so he knew she really wasn’t trying to step on his toes. “Yeah,” Buffy agreed, sighing with a nod. “Yeah, okay. And if it’s really just a ship I have no problem with giving you free rein on any alien technology you find. Just…just do me a favor, don’t make me regret this by killing us all with it.” Hardy cracked a smile then, “Alright Miss Summers, I think I can agree to that.” And surprisingly enough, he held out his hand to make it official.

****

Clark was more than impressed with the young woman who had pretty much wormed her way into his heart without her even knowing it. She was feisty as all hell; he'd heard her entire conversation and had been caught chuckling to himself a few times. Considering how quiet and reserved he normally was, the other guys on the crew were probably thinking he'd gone insane. There were a few things that were talked about that confused him however. Like her speaking about demons and monsters like they exist. Though, considering the fact that he existed, he wasn't all that surprised there could be something out there that was possibly a greater threat than even himself. He was just surprised he'd never run into anything of the sort before, especially considering how long he'd been traveling. Then again, he never really actively sought out situations where he was a savior, those situations usually just kind of found him. Buffy however, spoke as if she had been doing these types of things regularly for years. So much so, that not only was the military aware of her, but they had deemed her a threat on more than one occasion. He could certainly relate to that, for he knew if they had any idea of what he could do, they would do everything in their power to either try and kill him or use him as a weapon. And that was something Clark absolutely refused to have happen. It not only would disgrace his father’s memory, but it would spit on the very sacrifice John Kent made for him. When he was younger, he always thought that the fear his father sometimes wore on his face was because his father was afraid of him. It was one of the things that had led to the words he used the day his dad died. He remembered how frustrated he was that day; his father was being so stubborn about letting him go to college. He remembered thinking it was because his dad wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him anymore. That he was so afraid of his son hurting someone…that he would never let him leave Smallville. Then that tornado hit, tearing Clark’s entire world to shreds and he was never able to tell his dad he didn’t mean what he said. It was his father’s sacrifice that finally made him realize that all that fear and distrust he saw etched in his dad’s eyes was never directed at Clark at all. His father had always trusted him, it was mankind that he was so afraid of. So, revealing himself to the world was absolutely out of the question. However, for the first time in Clark’s entire life, he felt he might have someone else he could trust enough to confide in. The simple fact that she hadn’t told anyone what she suspected about him was almost enough to make him trust her. The fact that she didn’t want the military to get their hands on an alien, for fear of what they would use it for and the harm it could cause to the human race also helped greatly in making him want to trust her. She was incredibly cautious about how they should go about unearthing the vessel and spoke of bringing in a witch friend of hers to put a ward around it in case there was something dangerous inside. It truly was a sound plan; it would let them be able to open the ship without accidentally releasing some deadly creature or virus by mistake. It’s also the reason he was now changing his plans of waiting a few days before he went in search of the ship. He hadn’t known magic existed until a few minutes ago and he had no idea if he was vulnerable to it or not. He didn’t think so, but he sure as hell wasn’t willing to stick around and find out. As much as he agreed with Buffy’s plan and admired her caution, he knew in his gut that this might be his only opportunity to find out where he came from. Something deep inside of him told him that the answers he sought were on that ship. He dropped the bags off at her trailer after Jed had informed him which belonged to her, noticing how sparse the accommodations were. Just like Colonel Hardy had ordered. There was only a cot, blanket, pillow, space heater, and sure enough in the corner was a bucket and a roll of toilet paper. He shook his head in amusement, apparently this was not the first time she was forced to rough it. He could hear her and Colonel Hardy heading this way, discussing the ship and what other precautions might be taken to ensure that no one would get hurt. On an absolutely and unexpected whim, Clark pulled out the notepad he’d been keeping in the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote down the first thing that popped in his head. He didn’t know what made him do it, and he hoped she didn’t take it the wrong way. The poem was called “I am” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and he didn’t really remember the entire thing, but the first verse had stuck with him. He quickly ripped the sheet of paper off the spiral, folding it, and tucking the sheet under her bag where just the edge could be seen. He stuffed the notepad and pen in his back pocket, getting to the door just as they were walking up. Their eyes found each other’s immediately, the intensity of her gaze sending an electric shock up his spine, his heart speeding up. God, those eyes of hers were like the color of the fields around the farm in spring. She raised an eyebrow in question at him but he just smiled politely and held the door open for her and the Colonel to pass as he slid by and down the steps. She followed his gaze and he found himself completely turning and walking backwards a few steps, before forcing himself to break contact and walk away. He was going to go talk to Jed, see if he could learn more about her. Plus, his shift was almost up and twilight was approaching. Soon it would be time.

******

When his gaze broke from hers it was like having a bucket of ice water doused on an over heated system. She stood there watching him walk away, her heart pounding in her chest, a loud rush of air she hadn’t even realized she was holding breaking from her lungs. Her nerves still tingled from the heat she felt in his gaze, and she was startled to realize she hadn’t had a reaction like that to the opposite sex in a very long time. Hell, she wasn’t quite sure she ever had a reaction like that, at least not one she remembered. She shook her head, turning back to the Colonel, only to notice he hadn’t missed the staring contest either. She thought he looked amused, but wasn’t quite sure. “Something I need to know about?” Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m a red-blooded female. I’m allowed to notice a good-looking man when I see one.” The Colonel hummed, his green eyes accusatorily sizing her up. “Seems like he noticed you too.” Buffy’s eyebrows shot up and she frowned. “What exactly are you implying, Hardy?” “Just making sure you didn’t send a spy in close to gather information.” He answered seriously, eyeing her warily, as if she would do something like that so unnecessarily. She rolled her eyes, laughing at the absurdity of that statement. “Colonel, if I were to do something like that it would only be if I felt I was in danger, and I can guarantee it would be another Slayer and not some well-built, redneck, with puppy eyes. No one but the W.C. and the General knew I was coming, why would I risk the little bit of leeway I knew I would gain by showing up unexpectedly, and ruin it by having a spy already in your midst’s. Please do give me some credit.” Hardy shrugged unapologetically, leaning against the wall, “I still don’t understand how your people figured out about the find when we’ve only known about it for a week.” “Oh, so that’s what this is.” She said, raising an eyebrow and looked around the almost empty trailer. He smirked, “That’s what this is.” She shrugged, it didn’t really matter to her if he knew or not. She wouldn’t be sharing the technology no matter how much he tried to intimidate her. Not that she would actually be able to explain it anyway. “A friend of mine created a program that relies heavily on magic to monitor, decode, translate, and record when certain phrases or words are used in any and all military or government communication around the globe.” The Colonel’s eyes sharpened and she watched as his jaw clenched, a vein popping out on his forehead. “And I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share that little piece of technology would you.” Buffy shook her head, “Absolutely not. I’m not helping you war with other countries.” “And you call yourself some sort of hero.” He said snidely, heavy condemnation in his voice. “Do you have any idea how much something like that could help us?” Buffy froze, her back stiffening at his implications. She turned to him, her lips pursed and eyes as sharp as daggers. “It’s my job Colonel, to protect humanity. All of it.” She said, voice trembling just above a whisper in pure rage. “It is not my job to get involved with petty wars that mean very little when every year there’s some demon who gets the idea in his head to destroy every single one of us.” She pointed to the door, “I think its time for you to go now. Sun’s setting anyway, I hear it can get forty degrees below zero some nights.” Hardy frowned and opened his mouth as if to say more, but decided against it. Instead, he said, “Good night Miss Summers, will speak more about this tomorrow.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm, “No we really won’t. Despite what you may think, I’m not trying to hoard technology so I can be some kinda all-knowing God and rain judgment down on everyone. It’s the whole reason its only designed to pick out key words and phrases. I don’t want to know everything, but magic in the wrong hands is the most dangerous thing on this planet. It’s more dangerous than any demon I’ve ever faced or any God.” She sighed, removing her hand. “Trust me when I say, science will get there, you don’t need magic to move it along.” His frown deepened, before he seemed to sigh in defeat. He nodded once, then left her trailer without a word. Buffy sighed, hoping that was the end of that. She really didn’t want to have to keep explaining herself. She walked over and sunk down on the cot, reaching for the lighter of her bags and pulling out her satellite phone. She called Wesley first, knowing he would be waiting up for her to check in. She gave him a brief description of what had happened so far, leaving out the mystery man for fear of making him worry when he already had so much on his plate. Wesley agreed that Willow should be the one performing the warding spell around the ship, and agreed to make the necessary travel arrangements. Her next phone call was to Willow herself, and she smiled at the cheery voice that picked up. “Is the Arctic as cold as they say?” Buffy chuckled, “Yeah Wills, its pretty cold.” Then added, “But don’t worry, you’ll be experiencing it soon enough.” She could hear the frown on the other end of the phone, before an irritated whine escaped her friend’s lips. “But I don’t wanna go to the Arctic, you know how much I hate the cold.” Buffy chuckled, “Yes, but apparently they think they found a spaceship and we need you and your magical-witchy-talents to make sure no hibernating Xenomorphs escape and wreak havoc amongst the populous.” There was a long still silence, before the expected giddy meltdown on the other side of the phone. She heard a squeal of delight, before several vowels that sounded suspiciously like they should have been words. Buffy chuckled, “Breathe Willow, oxygen is of the good.” There were several panting breaths before, “Gods, Buffy do you know what a find like this could mean for us? The technology alone could help…” “Hold your horses there, Wills.” Buffy interrupted. “I already promised the U.S. that they could have the ship.” “Wait, what?” Willow protested. “Buffy if it hadn’t been for Voll joining up with Amy and Warren, those two would have never gotten powerful enough to join up with…” “I know Willow,” Buffy said, cutting her off before that train of thought could even be realized. “I’m just saying, why should we trust them when they’ve put us through so much?” Willow said, the pain and resentment clear in her voice. Buffy, sighed. “I don’t know Wills; guess I’m just getting more forgiving in my old age.” She paused, hearing Willow sigh sadly and knowing exactly where Willow’s thoughts were taking her. They had all suffered the consequences of General Voll raising Amy and Warren up from annoying nuisances, to actual threat. When they inevitably betrayed him, because that’s what happens when you align yourself with crazy, Amy and Warren had managed to gain enough clout to join up with a recently desouled Angelus, and together they had amassed an army of witches and demons alike. By the time anyone caught wind of what was going on it was already too late. Giles had been the first casualty in the chaos. Buffy freezing up when it happened, unable to even react to what her eyes were processing. Spike had been the one to pull her out, and for months he had been the one to push her to keep going. He had been her rock in that time, an unwavering support system without any expectations of what could possibly be if they made it out alive. Wesley and Illyria had joined the fold shortly after Spike's miraculous return, followed by a severely wounded Charles Gunn and an empath demon named Lorne. Buffy had offered Wesley the Head Watcher position, being too far gone in her grief of losing the man who was more like a father to her than her real dad ever was. However, it was losing Spike three months later that had fully pushed her over the edge. It was the only time in her life that she went completely dark, and it was Angelus who paid and then some. She had never thought herself capable of torture before that moment. Figuring she wouldn't have the stomach for it, but she'd been so very wrong. She had given her Slayer full control, and by the time she was finished with him there had been very little to stake. She remembered hating not just him in that moment, but Angel too. Years of pent-up emotional trauma caused by him leeching out of her as she bled him dry. Hatred and rage boiling inside of her at the fairytale romance they'd so naively convinced each other they had. It was never a fairytale; it had been a nightmare from the start. Even soulless Spike on his worse day would have never tried to break her so thoroughly. Angelus, in essence had succeeded in what he started so many years before. Except, instead of the broken pile of tears he expected would be the outcome of his mental torment, he got the broken primal force of the Slayer in full. He must have realized his mistake somewhere between her cutting out his tongue to shut him up and flaying his skin off the muscle and sinew because when she got to his eyes, they were full of the most potent fear she'd ever seen on a creature such as him. She remembered her Slayer purring in delight at the heady look of horror that was etched on his face, so unlike the arrogant knowingness he'd been giving her for hours. She remembered the feel of his sticky, coagulated blood as it spurted onto her face when she slowly pushed the blade into the brown pupil. The same eyes she had once thought so beautiful. She remembered how it felt to twist the knife until there was nothing left. The only sound Angelus able to make was a gargling, choking, scream. Buffy shook her head, banishing the gruesome memories to the back of her mind. She had disappeared for two years after that, running every few days to make sure no one could find her, too ashamed to face anyone. Wesley had finally found her in that broken-down, abandoned hovel, too weak to keep running. He hadn't asked what happened, he'd simply taken her in his arms and held her. When she had eventually shattered completely, sobbing dry tears, because she was to dehydrated to produce any, Wesley had stroked her back, hushing her. He never once asked what happened, but she suspected he already knew. There was a haunted look in his eyes that told her he had danced that fine line once himself. “Buffy? Buffy are you there?” Willow asked, forcing Buffy out of her memories completely. “Yeah,” Buffy said, shaking her head and blinking several times. “Sorry, what?” “I said, is there anything else I should know?” Willow huffed, a worried edge to her voice. Buffy chewed on her lip for a minute, thinking of her handsome stranger. “Yeah,” She said again. “There’s definitely something else.” She was quiet for a long moment, before finally saying. “Look, I didn’t say anything to Wesley, because he’s dealing with a lot right now, but there’s this guy here and he's...well..." she paused, shivering slightly at the memory of his hand in hers. "He's like uber-powerful." "You mean like Glory and Illyria powerful?" Willow asked, the worry in her voice unmistakable now. "I mean, like take Glory and Illyria, put them in a pot, add a few other Old Ones, stir, and you got this guy." Now Willow sounded downright frightened. "You're kidding? And he's working for the military?" Buffy shook her head even though Willow couldn't see it. "No, he's actually working for the cargo company the military contracted." "Huh?" Willow said in confusion. "Yeah, and here's the thing, he doesn't feel like a demon, or even mystical. It’s almost like..." and that’s when it all began to click into place. Spaceship, uber-powerful guy working as a civilian near said recently discovered spaceship. Power that felt foreign to her, not other worldly, but out of this world. She froze, her eyes landing on a piece of paper tucked under her weapons bag. With a shaky hand she reached down and unfolded it, her eyes scanned the quickly scribbled words on the page. "Willow, I... I gotta go." Buffy said, hanging up before she could hear her friend’s protest. She reached for her weapons bag, unzipped it and pulled out her Scythe. The words of the poem repeating in her head. She thought about changing into her suit, but decided against it. She wasn't sure how much time she had, but the sun had set a while ago and she had a feeling if she didn't leave now, she'd never see her handsome stranger again. She donned her jacket and her beanie, throwing on a backpack already prepacked with survival supplies. She opened the door and ran full speed out into the night. The forgotten poem falling into the snow, the words bleeding out as the slush soaked the paper. 'I know not whence I came, I know not whither I go But the fact stands clear that I am here In this world of pleasure and woe. And out of the mist and murk, Another truth shines plain. It is in my power each day and hour To add to its joy or its pain.'

[Chapter Two]

12 notes · View notes