#the night at museum security guard jacket | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justtwotired · 3 months

Text

Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x F!reader

————————

Tag list: @beachcombers-boyfriend @cipheress-to-k-pop @whore-of-many-hot-men @bodieohbo @anyth1ngfor0urmoony @luvizuku

————————

Part 1 - previous- next

Before we start, I want to make something clear to my dear readers.

My story is mostly based of the series and there are small things from the movies in here. So, quick explanation. Lloyd did get aged by the aging tea, but not only his body, his brain also aged, so no, he isn’t a child trapped in a teens body.

In this story, you are meeting Lloyds mother, and I mean his good mother aka Koko, we don’t mention that other thing in my household.

Lloyd and you are 18 in this story, I don’t know how that works in your country, but in mine it means legal adult.

That was about it, now enjoy the story, loves<3

—————————

Christmas and new years was slowly nearing but that was not something I was really concerned about. Actually I think it’s somewhere on the bottom of the list at the moment.

I tried calling Lloyd for about the sixth time that hour and he finally picked up, making me let out a sigh of relief.

“Lloyd!” I said angrily. “What are you idiots doing? What happened?” I questioned him, and I heard him mumbling something on the other side of the phone. “Jezus Christ, I look at the news for ONCE in my life,” I groaned.

“Alright, love, I need you to calm down-” he tried and I interrupted him immediately.

“CALM DOWN- Lloyd you six are all over the news, you are currently one of the most wanted people in Ninjago- where are you? Are you safe?” I asked.

“You don’t believe the news then?” He asked and I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“You think I’m going to believe you broke into the museum and killed two security guards?” I asked and he let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, it was a dumb question,” he admitted. “I’m fine, we are currently hiding on Borg’s rooftop, though I think they’re going to start using helicopters soon,” he said.

“I suppose with ‘they’ you mean the police?” I asked unamused and he let out a nervous chuckle again.

“Yeah,” he said. “Hey- Jay, don’t do that, you’ll die,” he sounded a bit further away when he said that. “Anyway, I am quite busy right now, love, so I think I’m hanging up,” he said.

“Indeed you are, and I am coming over there,” I said and stood up from my chair. “Borg’s tower you said, right?” I asked, grabbing my jacket.

“Y/n no, you are not coming here, absolutely not,” he sounded stern when he said it and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, safety, bla bla, protection, bla bla, don’t be reckless, bla, bla, bla,” I closed the front door behind me. “I’ll be at Borg’s tower in ten- I suppose he knows you’re up there?” I asked.

“Uh, yes?” Lloyd said confused.

“Good, then I don’t have to climb all the way up there cause I had no idea how I was going to do that,” I announced. “Bye Lloyd,” I then hung up and ignored the two calls from him and later one from Cole.

When I arrived I walked into Borg’s tower and headed over to the front desk.

“Hello, is Cyrus Borg here?” I asked the lady, who gave me a confused look but nodded.

“Great, my name is Y/n L/n, I’ve been send by my father William L/n, he has an important message for Borg that I need to deliver,” I said and the lady looked surprised.

I had improvised, I was actually really surprised when I stood in Cyrus Borg’s office two minutes later.

“Y/n L/n, hm?” He smiled at me. “You look just like your father,” he said and I gave him a kind smile. “What is it you need to tell me, dear?” He asked and I nervously chuckled.

“Nothing, actually,” I said and he frowned. “I know that the ninja are on the roof and I need to talk to them,” I said and he gave me a bewildered look.

“Where did you hear that- that is nonsense,” he tried but I shook my head.

“I’m Lloyds girlfriend, he told me,” I said, it felt good saying I was Lloyd girlfriend, I liked it.

And just like that, I got access to the roof, leaving me alone there with six shocked ninja, all surprised I managed to get there.

“What happened?” I asked and they all exchanged looks.

“We’re keeping her, right?” Jay whispered to Cole who was next to him.

“She doesn’t have a choice at this point, she ain’t going anywhere,” Kai nodded and I groaned.

“Can anyone with sense- so Nya or Zane- explain to me what’s happening and how I can help?” I folded my arms and the other led out an offended noice.

“Yesterday night the museum was robbed, the camera footage showed people in gi like ours, and since the police can’t seem to think that maybe that could be other people, we are the main suspects,” Nya explained in a nutshell.

“That is not everything,” Zane continued. “The footage shows that multiple items have been stolen, all of which are items you use in battle, so we have reason to think that our clones are planning an attack, but we do not know when or where,” he filled in.

“Correct, and we know that they are dangerous, as two security guards passed in the robbery,” Lloyd started. “And we know that it wasn’t a robbery gone bad, as footage shows they took the guards out before they entered,”

I nodded along and thought for a moment. “Any ideas what or who they might be planning to attack?” I asked. “Some big events going on? Maybe a celebrity coming to the city?” I speculated.

“The only thing we could think off was an auction at the museum, but it just doesn’t make sense, seeing they just robbed the place,” Kai said and I shook my head.

“What- no that makes sense actually,” I said and they gave me weird looks. “The auction is tomorrow morning, meaning that today the dead sea necklace and the invictum sword arrive. Because of the break in and the severity of the situation, the auction won’t continue, meaning both the sword and the necklace will be in the museum for safe keeping,” I explained and they all just frowned at me making me sigh.

“Alright, let’s see it from another point of view,” I sighed. “We already established, the auction can’t continue, what did our thieves do? They stole weapons, Zane, were these weapons worth a lot?” I asked.

The nindroid nodded. “They stole three powerful, expensive weapons,” he said and I nodded.

“Alright, expensive, it means they can sell them, remember that,” I looked around the group. “At the auction, they will also show off the invictum sword,” I said and they nodded again.

“Now, tell me, looking at yesterday’s robbery, what do you think the thieves would steal at the auction tommorow?” I asked and the ninja exchanged looks.

“The invictum sword? It’s a sword that never loses after all… if you believe the tails,” Kai said, the others nodded along and I grinned.

“And that is exactly what the museum thinks aswel, so guess what, they focus on the sword, is it protected? How many guards are on duty? Do we trust everyone inside? All that kinds of stuff,” I waved my hand a bit.

“The only people watching the sword and other artifacts are either hired bodyguards, museum staff or museum guards, why? Because the police is to busy fussing over your location,” I pointed at them.

“While that happens, the Dead Sea necklace gets forgotten more and more,” I explained. “Meaning, that while the police is fussing over you guys and the museum is fussing over the sword, the thieves can almost take the necklace like it’s an all you can eat restaurant,” I said with a grin.

“The weapons they stole are worth a lot of money, but the invictum sword? Roughly 10.000 dollars, now that sounds like a lot, unless you compare it with the other weapons or the necklace, which is worth 25 million dollars, they aren’t interested in weapons, they just want you to think that, it’s really just money that they’re after,” I finally finished and took a deep breath.

“Also,” I started and they almost looked tired. “They used guns to take the guards out and the weapons they stole are for close combat, i think they aren’t even going to use those weapons,” I voiced and looked around the group.

“So we’re all clear on that? Sorry I’m not very good at explaining,” I said with a small chuckle.

“Definitely keeping her,” Cole said to Jay.

“Holy shit, you’re a genius!” Nya called out. “You’re right, they are after money, and if I think about it, I bet that they are the same criminals we’ve been after for a few months now, those same ones that pulled you off your skateboard and held you hostage!” She pointed at me.

“You two are right, both of them are after money, and looking at the way they handle things, we can almost be sure they are the same guys,” Lloyd said deep in thought.

“How did you even figure all that out?” Kai asked in disbelief. “We’ve been trying all afternoon,” he said with a pointed look at Zane.

“Oh, I’m interested in historical artifices,” I shrugged. “Plus my mom wanted to go to the auction tomorrow. And my true crime podcast binging might have some impact,” I grinned at the group.

“What do you think, Zane?” Lloyd looked at the nindroid who had the most sense out of all of them.

“Oh, I realised what Y/n meant after the first explanation, Pixal and I just searched around on street camera’s and I think I’ve found the place they are hiding out,” Zane said, making everyone start to grin.

“Guys, I think we can actually pull this off,” Jay said excitedly. “Now the only thing we need is a distraction!” He said before his smile dropped “Ehh, what will we use as distraction?”

“Decoy?” Kai asked and looked at me. “We can dress her up as one of us, distract the police while we head to- wherever their hideout is- Zane?” Kai turned to Zane.

“Closed warehouse on Bundystreet,” the nindroid answered.

“Yeah, absolutely not,” Lloyd jumped in. “First off, if they catch her, she can go to Jail or what, many things can happen if she gets caught, there are way to many risks for that, and also, there is no way the entire police force will follow one ninja,” he said.

“Oh! Oh! Can’t you just make one of your illusions?” Cole suggested and I shook my head.

“Not one big enough to distract the police,” I said a bit disappointed, while cracking my brains, suddenly, a grin appeared on my face. “I’ve got an idea,” I suddenly said.

“And that is?” Kai asked, everyone looking at me curiously.

“I can’t really explain, all I can say is that it will definitely work if I just throw in some illusions, hold on, I have to make a phone call,” I said and held up a finger.

“Before I call, the plan is, you go to the warehouse, surprise the criminals, arrest them, all those things, all I need to do is make sure the police isn’t on your heels?” I asked and they nodded.

“And you already have a plan on how you’ll enter the Warehouse?” I asked and they stopped for a second. “Yeah, do that while I make this call,” I suggested.

I entered my groupchat, also knows as ‘the abusement park’ and pressed call.

“What up?” Anthony was the first to join, and I saw his face next to Arthur’s.

“Excuse me? How dare you wake me up from my beauty sleep,” Flora also entered the call, an eye mask still on her forehead.

“Hun, aren’t you supposed to be working on your science project?” Luna who also joined the call asked her.

“We had a science project?” James joined the call aswel.

“You aren’t telling me I’m the only one that did that one, right?” Charlie asked, laying down on his bed.

“Guys, Guys,” I interrupted and they still bickered a bit. “I’m calling in a ‘don’t get me started,’ can I please say something?” It went immediately silent after that.

“I suppose you all still have the fireworks we got yesterday, right?” I asked, and they all nodded, not speaking.

“Is your plan clear?” I turned to the ninja after I finished my phone call.

“Yes, clear,” Lloyd said, making me grin slightly and look at my phone.

King Charles

I’m ready

Millie<3

Same here

Slowly the texts from everyone started to fill my screen, telling me they were ready.

“You guys get going, the distraction will start in a minute,” I grinned. Lloyd then pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead.

“Thank you, I’ll see you after, alright?” He asked and I nodded and then they quickly got going.

Lloyd POV:

We hadn’t even left the street yet and suddenly loud bangs came from Borg tower, making my heart sink, but when I turned around, they were… fireworks?

Then suddenly, fireworks came from all over the city, they where big and bright in the sky, coming from multiple different places and it didn’t take long for me to notice, they all reached away from Bundystreet.

She was confusing the police by letting all of her friends set off fireworks at the same time in different places, I realised.

The cops wouldn’t know what was happening and be confused, probably spreading to the spots to see what the hell was going on but by that time, the others would be gone and we where in the warehouse.

I had one smart ass girlfriend.

Your POV:

I met with the others at the video store and they all gave me unamused glances.

“Yeah, that was all our firework for the coming new year,” Anthony said, rather disappointed and I gave them a small pout.

“I’m sorry guys, but we still have my fireworks- and I can illusion some shit- I’ll buy some new things for you, I promise,” I begged and they all sighed and complied, sharing smiles here and there anyway.

“It really was awesome, though,” James said with a huge grin and I chuckled.

“See, that is a much better mindset,” I told him and he lightly shoved my shoulder.

“Alright, N/n,” Luna started and gave me a serious look. “I hope you realise we all want to know why we just had to do that,” she asked and I gave them all a wary look when they nodded along.

“What- no. I called in a don’t get me started,” I stated with a slight frown. “May I remind you that that means I can ask for a favour without having to explain why,” I said and they all groaned.

“Y/n, you literally just had us distract the cops to go looking all over the city while we used up all of our fireworks, come on,” Arthur whined. “Does it have something to do with the ninja robbing the museum?” He asked and I gave him an offended scowl.

“First off, that wasn’t them, you could literally see that it wasn’t them, on the footage their body language was wrong and everything, besides they would never rob the museum and definitely wouldn’t hurt an innocent person,” I started off.

“So this means that it does have something to do with them?” James asked and I let out a small sigh.

“They needed a distraction, alright, they couldn’t have the cops messing up their plan so I offered to help- after literally figuring out the whole thing by the way, I am taking those credits, but their fixing everything now and I think they’re almost done, it has certainly been a while,” I looked at the time on my phone.

It was already dark out and I had to text my parents to tell them I wasn’t eating at home, I hadn’t even ate at all yet.

“You are just casually close friends with the ninja now?” Charlie asked, an amused smirk dancing on his lips.

“Kind off, yeah?” I shrugged. “I mean, I hang out with them some time…” I revealed a bit awkwardly.

They all gave me rather surprised and shocked looks as I told them this.

“And you think you can just nonchalantly say that now as if it’s normal?” Millie asked, raising her eyebrows. She looked around the group who where giving off the same energy as her. “Wait- do you like- know their identities?” She asked.

I silently nodded and I was immediately bombarded with questions.

“Hey, if you expect me to tell you their identities, just know I will not,” I immediately made clear. “Really, I love all of you, but I can’t betray their trust like that, I promised them I wouldn’t tell anyone,” I said and James pouted at me.

“Not even me?” He asked, innocently batting his eyelashes and I chuckled, patting his cheek.

“Not even you, Jamie,” I said and he pouted, making me flick his cheek instead. He quickly flinched away from me and laid a hand on his cheek while giving me an offended look.

“Hey, trouble!” I turned around to see Kai- or well, the red ninja, approaching us. I smiled at him and waved him over.

“Red! How did it go?” I asked him immediately when he was within ten feet.

“It went fine, we got them, called the police and soon enough there was enough evidence to let us go, so we’re fine,” he winked and I smiled, quickly giving him a hug.

“That’s great to hear,” I said and pulled away. “How’s greenie?” I asked, a slight bit worried.

“He’s fine, currently with the team. He and Ice are fixing some things while the others are probably goofing around, almost killing themselves, you know, the normal stuff,” he said making me chuckle.

“Oh, by the way,” I took a step to the side. “These are my friends, guys, this is red,” I said and they all said hi, looking at the tall ninja with slight fascination.

“Great to meet you all,” he said quickly and he seemed to be listening to something before putting his wrist holding his communication device to his mouth. “I’ll be there in a moment- yes, Pixal I know,” he said a bit annoyed.

“Seems like I need to get going,” he said right after and I nodded.

“It’s fine, I’ll text you guys later and you can let me know how it went, then I’ll see you all- Tuesday, was it?” I asked and he chuckled.

“Tuesday yeah,” he assured. “You’ll see me then, but I think Greenie will probably stop by later, maybe earth will come with him? I don’t know, he said something about the book you recommended him,” he shrugged.

“Oh, yeah that’s fine, just tell them to text me,” I nodded.

“Alright then,” Kai said and checked the street for a moment. “Trouble,” he nodded at me. “Troubles friends,” he nodded at them to before disappearing.

On the way to our favourite chilling rooftop, I was interrogated by my friends about the ninja and how I met them.

Most of the thing slightly had to lie but other thing I told them honestly.

We where hanging out on the roof for about an hour when two figures appeared. We all quickly recognised them as greenie and earth, making me jump up in excitement.

“You’re here! Ka- I mean red mentioned you’d stop by, you got my text then? You never responded,” I looked at Greenie and he nodded.

“Yeah, I got it, I was a bit busy, didn’t have time to respond,” he said and looked behind me at the others. “Hi guys,” he said, making them all wave.

“Oh, earth, these are my friends, say hi guys,” I said and they all chuckled and said hello.

Cole was frozen for a moment looking, before he blinked and put up a hand. “Hi, nice to meet you,” he said, kindly.

“Alright- N/n, I read the book, and honest thoughts- it was amazing and the plot twist? I really didn’t see it coming!” He said and I jumped up and down.

“I knew you’d say that! I didn’t mention it so you wouldn’t crack it trough the story!” I said and he laughed as I pointed at him.

“No but really, I went trough it quickly again and when you know it’s going to happen, you can see it, honestly I think it’s a new favourite,” he admitted and I grinned widely.

“Hold on a second,” I put my finger up and turned around slightly. “Lu! Come here!” I called and she came over.

“What is it?” She asked, shooting a quick smile at the two ninja. “Am I going to be arrested again?” She asked with a chuckle.

“Not that I know of,” I answered, giving her a fake suspicious look, making her put a finger to her mouth with a grin. “Earth here just finished our favourite book,” I said and stars appeared in her eyes.

“Really? How was it? What do you think of the plot twist? Do you also think those flowers where the cause of the main characters sickness?” She shot questions at him and he chuckled.

Soon enough they where in a deep conversation and I smiled triumphantly at Lloyd, who shook his head at me.

“Thats one way to get my attention to yourself,” he teased and I scoffed.

“I actually did it so I could give all my attention to you!” I pointed at him and he laughed.

“I know, I know, I’m just teasing you, doll,” he said and I huffed, rolling my eyes at him. “Hey, don’t you act like that, or I might not invite you to join me and earth on our way to the monastery,” he said and stars twinkled in my eyes.

“Really?” I asked excitement lacing my voice, making him chuckle. “Really,” he said and I flung my arms around him.

“Wait- does that mean I am meeting your mother?” I asked and he paused for a second before nodding.

“Uh, yeah, is that a problem?” He asked and I contemplated before hesitantly shaking my head. He chuckled and put an arm around me.

“Don’t worry, Princess, she’ll love you,” he said and I let out a small breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Yeah, alright, fine- I just need James to cover for me saying I’m at his house, I don’t know how my parents would react if I said I was at the monastery,” I said making Lloyd chuckle.

I quickly made my way over to the others and tapped James in the shoulder, he turned to me with a big smile.

“Jamie, can you cover for me and let me tell my parents I’m at your house for some part in the evening?” I asked and he nodded.

“Hm, you going to your boyfriends house or something? I’m doing it, of course, always for you,” he bumped into me slightly.

“Oh, no, I’m going with Earth and greenie,” I admitted and he slowly nodded.

“Alright, yeah sure, I’m just going to act like that’s completely normal, have fun at their secret hide out,” he joked and I rolled my eyes, but thanked him anyway.

“That’s all set,” I told Greenie and his eyes shined with happiness, making a chuckle escape my throat.

“What’s all set?” Earth asked, coming to stand besides Greenie again. Luna stood next to me, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“Oh, N/n’s coming with us to the monastery, are you done with your talk? Because then we can go,” he explained and Cole nodded.

“Yeah, all finished,” he answered. “Are we taking the dragons? He questioned, Greenie nodded and my eyes went wide.

“You want me to sit on the back of one of those dragons?” I asked and Lloyd gave me a look.

“Yes, and later in life we’ll teach you how to make one of those yourself, for now you’ll ride with me,” he said, making me swallow thickly but comply anyway.

“Lu, are you awake enough for me to walk away or do I need to personally carry you to the others?” I asked and she looked up at me, slowly blinking.

“What?” She asked making me shake my head with a small chuckle.

“Arty!” I called to the others and he looked up at me. “Come collect Lu, and please take her home she needs sleep,” I said and he got up.

He took over Luna for me, holding her and she fell asleep, right there, standing up, making him look at her in disbelief as he let out a sigh and the others laughed.

“Ready?” Lloyd asked me and I nodded, saying goodbye to the others. “Come on,” he took me to the side of the building and held my hand as we stood on the edge.

“Are we jumping?” I asked terrified and he grinned before grabbing me by my waist and jumping down the high building.

We were falling for a moment but then seemed to land on something. I held my eyes closed and still felt his arms around my waist.

“Open your eyes, we’re fine,” he chuckled and when I opened them, we where sitting on a green dragon who actually gave off green light.

“Holy shit!” I laughed, I looked down at the city beneath us, we where actually flying on a dragon! I was sat in the front, and Lloyd, who had just taken of his mask, sat behind me, holding the reins with his arms around my waist.

“Still scary?” He asked and I laughed and shook my head.

“I love it!” I said, looking around me, the city still rather busy for this time. I looked to my right to see Cole, also having his mask off now.

“Hey, Cole!” I called and he looked over. “What’d you think of Luna?” I asked and I saw his cheeks tint red before looking forward again.

“Yeah, she was uh- nice,” he said and Lloyd laughed at him while I just frowned slightly.

“What’s going on? What did I miss?” I asked and Lloyd just laughed in my ear before answering.

“Cole as a crush on Luna, we see her every now and then, never talk to her, but he admires from afar.” Lloyd reveals and I looked at Cole in disbelief.

“You like her?” I asked and he glared at Lloyd.

“Wow, thanks man!” He said and the both of us laughed while he just looked embarrassed.

“I can set you up with her if you want! She’ll like you, I think the two of you would be good together,” I said and I gave me a hopeful look.

“You think so?” He asked and I nodded with a small smile. The moment was over when Lloyd laughed again, making Cold glare at him and me chuckle.

“Don’t mind Lloyd, I really think you two could hit it off, but we’ll talk about that later when this moron isn’t around,” I said, elbowing Lloyd slightly.

Cole was about to say something but fell silent and seemed to listen to something.

“Don’t mind that, probably someone who’s talking over the coms,” Lloyd told me and I nodded.

“Yes, I’ll go now, but this better don’t take long, I am tired as hell,” I heard Cole say before looking at us.

“I need to head out, new mission, I’ll see you two later,” he waved at us before redirecting his dragon.

“Hmm, alone time,” Lloyd whispered in my ear before resting his head in my neck making me chuckle.

I sucked in a sharp breath when his lips suddenly attached to my neck, he trailed kissed down and up my neck, making goosebumps run up my skin.

“Lloyd, shouldn’t you be looking where we’re going?” I asked and he chuckled against my skin.

“What, you don’t like it?” He whispered in my ear, making my stomach turn upside down. God what was he doing to me.

“I didn’t say that,” I told him. “But I think you might want to do this later somewhere else and not on a dragon,” I said and he chuckled.

“I’ll remember that,” he said, making my cheeks turn hot.

#lloyd garmadon x reader #ninjago x reader #ninjago lloyd #ninjago lloyd x reader #lloyd garmadon #Ninjago #lego ninjago #lego ninjago x reader

70 notes · View notes

tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months

Text

The Forgotten Nest (Part 7) - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 5.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Parental Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles; Crying; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: In the few days before the mission, Nickie has important conversations with his mom, his grandfather, and maybe even his estranged father.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Epilogue

Master List

It was the day after Ice’s funeral and somehow the Mitchells had to go back to normal. Maverick reported for duty early, Cora went back to work as usual, and Nickie stayed late at school to make up some of the work that he missed. But it wasn’t back to normal. Not really.

Walking out of school, Nickie looked up to see his mom’s car roll around the corner of the school. A bit nervously, Nickie made his way over. They hadn’t talked last night about much of anything. Everyone sort of went in their separate directions and stewed in their own thoughts. And Nickie knew that his mom and his grandfather saw the wings that he pinned to his jacket.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Cora greeted him with a small smile. “How was school?”

“Long,” Nickie replied quietly, sinking into his seat. “How was work?”

“Same old, same old,” Cora stated as she put the car in drive.

They stared heading home, though Cora got tenser and tenser with every mile. Gripping the steering wheel tighter than normal, Cora stared at the stop light in front of them, before quickly putting her turn signal on and making a right. Nickie looked over at his mom with clear confusion, since this wasn’t the direction home. But Cora continued driving.

“Where are we going?” Nickie asked his mom, who shot him a small smile in return.

“You’ll see.”

Nickie leaned back in his seat, still confused, but trusting his mom. Cora eventually pulled down a winding road that ended in a parking lot. They could see the naval ships in the harbor and the planes overhead reminded Nickie that base wasn’t very far.

Wordlessly, Cora turned off the car and stepped out, causing Nickie to do the same. Cora walked down the path, made her way down to a bench, and sat down on the worn wood. She patted the spot next to her and Nickie sat down without much of a fuss, though he felt a rock settle in his stomach when he caught his mom’s expression.

“Mom, I can explain . . .” Nickie started off softly.

“Do you remember all the times that I would bring you out here when you were little to watch the ships?” Cora asked, staring over at the ships docked in port. “You would just sit out here for hours, endlessly entertained.”

“Mom?” Nickie asked, looking over at her with some concern.

“Or all of the times that your grandfather brought you to the museum in town? He had to run after you once because you wanted to touch the plane and you just slipped under the ropes,” Cora mused, smiling at the memories. “You know, I think if your grandfather’s face wasn’t in some of those photos in the museum, the security guard would have been a lot meaner to him.”

“Mom?” Nickie repeated, softer this time.

Sobering, Cora took a breath before turning to her son. Nickie could see a thin layer of tears in her eyes, but didn’t comment on it. Mostly because he could feel some building behind his own eyes. Cora smiled painfully and cupped her son’s cheek, rubbing her thumb along his skin.

“What I’m trying to say, Nickie, is that part of me always knew that you could someday end up in the Navy,” Cora began, dropping her hand down to grab Nickie’s hand and give it a squeeze. “I mean, all of your father figures were aviators. You grew up in a Navy town. Your grandfather always brought you to the airshows and told you all about his stories.”

She dropped her head for a moment, trying to compose herself. Biting the inside of her cheek, Cora turned back to Nickie with a small smile.

“I know that you probably think that I’m going to tell you that you can’t go. But I’m not.”

“Really?” Nickie asked, sounding shocked. “But, Mom, you wouldn’t even let me on a trampoline growing up.”

“And I stick by that,” Cora stated firmly. “Do you know how many kids come in with broken bones—never mind. That’s not why I brought you here.” Composing herself, Cora let out a breath and turned back to her son. “Answer a few questions for me, Nickie. Do you want to go into the Navy?”

“Yes,” Nickie replied quietly, without much confidence in his mom’s presence.

“More than you want any other career path?”

“Yes,” Nickie returned with more confidence than before.

“And will going into the Navy make you happy?”

“I think so.”

“And do you have a backup plan in case you can’t become a naval aviator for whatever reason?”

“Well, I know that I want to do something mechanical. I mean, Gramps had me working on cars and bikes for my entire life . . . it’s what I know. It’s what I feel comfortable with and what I want to do,” Nickie explained, causing Cora to nod slowly. Nickie scooched a little closer to his mom, still surprised at her words. “You’re really okay with me going into the Navy?”

“In all honesty, I’m not thrilled, Nickie,” Cora stated, causing Nickie’s expression to fall a bit. “If I had it my way, you would go into business or something where the most dangerous part of your day was getting to and from work.”

Cora’s gaze softened again when Nickie turned away from her, a bit shy. Grabbing Nickie’s chin gently and tilting it up so that Nickie locked eyes with her again, Cora smiled.

“But it’s not my life, Nickie. It’s yours. And I can’t—I don’t want to be that parent who stands in the way of their child’s dreams because they’re too scared of what could happen or they’re too afraid to let go. I don’t want to be that kind of mom.”

Turning to face her son fully, Cora grabbed his hands and gave them a squeeze.

“All I have ever wanted for you, Nickie, was for you to be happy. For you to not have to worry about the things that I had to worry about when I was your age. I wanted you to be able to live your life without my past or your grandfather’s past or . . . anyone else’s past holding you back.”

“Like how it happened for Bradley?” Nickie asked, causing Cora to pause for a moment.

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “Like that.”

Cora slowly turned to look at the back of the bench. Nickie followed his mom’s gaze and paused when he noticed the plaque in the middle of the wood. It was small and not very noticeable, but there was a plaque that read a simple message:

In memory of LTJG Nicholas “Goose” Bradshaw

“That’s the thing about becoming a parent. You look back at your childhood and you try to make choices to give your kids an easier life than the one you had. But sometimes you overcorrect. And sometimes you didn’t see the problem in the first place until it smacks you in the face all over again.”

“Mom, planes have come a long way since 1986,” Nickie pointed out, causing Cora to turn back to him. “Safety wise.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I wasn’t talking about that.” Looking down at her lap for a moment, Cora took a breath. “Your father. Bradley. He always felt like he had to prove himself to the memory of his dad. And he made a lot of decisions trying to impress someone who was gone and who would have loved him regardless of any of those choices.”

Cora stared into her son’s eyes as she squeezed his hands.

“And I want to make sure that if you go into the Navy, you’re doing it for yourself. Not for Maverick. Not for Ice. Not for me . . . and definitely not to prove anything to Rooster.” Cora held her son’s gaze for a moment before adding, “I want you to do it for yourself, Nickie. Do you understand me?”

“I do, Mom.”

“Good.”

With a watery gaze, Cora pulled her son in for a hug that he quickly returned. Latching onto his mom like he was a little kid again, Nickie let a few tears dribble down from his eyes and onto her scrubs. Cora rocked her son back and forth, holding a hand to the back of his head like she did when he was a baby and she was trying to soothe him in the middle of the night.

“I thought that you’d be mad,” Nickie whispered out shakily, causing Cora to shake her head. “Or disappointed in me.”

“Nickie, I could never be disappointed in you,” Cora stated, squeezing him tighter. “You’re my baby. And you’re smart, you’re kind. You’re the kid who always got praise from all of his teachers for standing up for other kids and inviting everyone to play.” Letting out a choked sound herself, Cora tugged him closer. “I’m so proud of you, Nickie. And I’ll always be proud of you. And if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me about this, I’m sorry, Nickie. I’m so sorry.”

“I know that you just wanted me to be safe, Mom,” Nickie croaked out emotionally.

“You’re a Mitchell. We’re not the safest bunch,” Cora blurted out, causing Nickie to laugh with her. Pulling back from the hug, Cora wiped Nickie’s tears away with her hand. “I love you, Nickie. Okay? And nothing will ever change that.”

“I know, Mom. I love you too.”

~~~~~

“I told you that you were worrying over nothing,” Amelia told Nickie as they sat out in the backyard of the Benjamin house.

“I know,” Nickie replied, shooting Amelia a small smile. “I should probably listen to you more often.”

“At least you realize it.” They sat side by side, watching the waves crash before Amelia slowly turned back to Nickie with a more serious expression. “Do you know when they ship out?”

“Any day now, I would assume,” Nickie stated, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ll probably only know the night before.”

“Have you talked to Mav yet about the Navy?”

“No, but I will. Before he leaves,” Nickie answered, nodding to himself.

“Are you going to try to talk to . . .” Amelia trailed off, causing Nickie to look at the ground.

“I don’t know,” Nickie replied honestly. “I feel like I should, but . . . he’s still the bastard who abandoned us. Should I really give him a chance?”

“I don’t know,” Amelia stated, shrugging her shoulders. Turning to look out over the waves, Amelia gripped the edge of the bench. “I know that I stopped giving my dad chances a long time ago.” She slowly looked over at Nickie, who was still staring at the ground. “But knowing you, you’re going to beat yourself up if something happens on this mission and you never talked to him.”

“And what if nothing happens and I gave him a chance that he didn’t deserve?”

“Then you can tell him to fuck off when he gets back,” Amelia replied bluntly. Turning back to Nickie, Amelia shoved him lightly on the shoulder. “Isn’t the whole Mitchell mantra about not thinking? Why are you overthinking this? Do you want to talk to him or not?”

“I want answers,” Nickie stated quietly, causing Amelia to nod.

“And where are you going to get them?”

“Him,” Nickie added lamely. Letting out a groan, Nickie rubbed his face tiredly. “Goddammit.”

~~~~~

After the orders were given that they would be shipping out the following morning, the Daggers seemed to scatter to the wind. Those with families spent their last night on FaceTime or in town with them. Some just wanted their solitude and peace to center themselves.

And Rooster didn’t have a plan. He was just going to wander, quite honestly. Until life moved in a direction for him.

“Rooster,” Hondo called, causing Rooster to slow and turn to face the warrant officer.

Holding out a piece of paper, Hondo stared Rooster down and motioned for him to take the paper. Rooster tentatively reached out and took it to find a location and time written down.

“It’s top-secret correspondence,” Hondo stated, causing Rooster to turn back to him.

“From who?”

“An unnamed source,” Hondo replied stiffly. “Just . . . don’t fuck it up.”

And without another word, Hondo turned on his heel and walked off, leaving Rooster standing there with just a piece of paper in his hand. Staring down at it again, Rooster slowly folded it up and tucked it into the pocket of his flight suit before heading for the locker room. He had a guess as to who would try to get a message to him through Hondo.

And he desperately wanted to speak with her.

~~~~~

Pulling into the lot just down the beach from the Hard Deck, Rooster turned off his car and stepped out into the warm Miramar air. Dressed in his civilian clothes, Rooster looked around for Cora, but the figure who got out of their car and turned to him was too tall to be Cora.

It was Nickie, Rooster realized, after the teenager stepped forward.

The father and son stood several feet apart, neither seemingly wanting to make the first move. Bradley was still in shock that Nickie wanted to even look at him and Nickie was still summoning all of his courage to ask the questions that had been hammering around in his head for his entire life.

“You came,” was what Nickie started off with.

“I did,” Rooster replied quietly, shutting the door to his car. Looking up and down the landscape, Rooster turned back to Nickie. “Does your mom know that you’re here?”

“No,” Nickie stated honestly. He tilted his chin up a bit, almost challenging Rooster. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“No,” Rooster replied, shaking his head.

Nickie stared up at Rooster for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists as he shifted his weight around on his feet. Letting out a breath, Nickie turned back to his father with a hardened expression that made Rooster more than a little nervous.

“Why did you never come back? Why did you never read any of her letters?” Nickie demanded with his voice thick with emotion. “Why the hell did you turn your back on my mom and never look back? What the hell did she do to you?”

“Nothing,” Rooster stated after a few moments of silence.

“Then why did you do it?” Nickie hissed, glaring over at Rooster.

“Because I was . . . am an idiot,” Rooster replied quietly, knowing that excuses weren’t going to do him any good here. Looking down at the ground for a moment, Rooster tried to find the right words. “And I . . . I was worried that she would slam the door in my face if I showed up again.”

“So, you just did it to her then?” Nickie scoffed, his jaw ticking with thinly veiled annoyance. Shaking his head as the anger simmered in his stomach, Nickie took a step closer to Rooster. “Do you have any idea of what you put her through? Do you think it was easy for her to raise me as a single mom? Do you think that she wanted that?”

“No,” Rooster returned, shaking his head calmly. Clearing his throat, Rooster rubbed the back of his neck. “My mom . . . your grandmother . . . she was a single mom for most of my life. I know it’s not easy. I know it’s not the life that most people choose to have.”

“That makes it worse,” Nickie scoffed, shooting Rooster a sharper glare.

“Do you know about her? About . . . your grandmother?” Rooster asked quietly after a few moments, causing Nickie to pause with the change in conversation.

“Of course, I do. The only person that my mom ever hid from me was you,” Nickie all but snapped, causing Rooster to wince. Letting out a breath from his nose, Nickie looked at the ground as some of the anger left his body. Kicking a rock, Nickie kept his gaze down and his voice level. “I grew up on her recipes. On . . . my grandmother’s recipes.”

“Even the birthday surprise cake?” Bradley questioned emotionally.

“Every year,” Nickie returned, some more anger leaving his system. “Until I was like thirteen.”

“She used to make those cakes for your mom and for me. For our birthdays,” Bradley replied, sounding like he was talking more to himself than Nickie for a moment. Bradley stared down at the ground, taking a breath to calm himself down. “You know, I was about your age when . . . when she died.”

“My mom told me,” Nickie responded softly, swallowing a lump in his throat.

Ice had only been gone for a few days and sometimes Nickie had to remind himself that he was never going to get a text from Ice asking for him to come over. Not anymore. Turning back to his dad, Nickie set his jaw and let out a quiet sniffle.

“Fuck cancer,” Nickie stated, causing Rooster to pick his head up.

“Fuck cancer,” Rooster returned, nodding firmly. He looked out over at the waves over Nickie’s shoulder for a moment, leaning back against the Bronco for support. “You know, if she was still here, she would have been the grandmother to never leave you alone. The kind to make sure that you left her house five pounds heavier than you came. She’d go to all your sports games and events. Hell, she probably would have driven your mom just a little crazy, sticking around so much.”

And for a moment, though he couldn’t believe it, Nickie was sympathizing with Rooster. He actually felt bad for the guy. Because for the three seconds that he put himself into Bradley’s shoes—losing his mom at sixteen—Nickie barely survived it without bursting into uncontrolled sobs.

He loved his mom. He’d do anything for his mom. He was a mama’s boy. And he couldn’t picture his life without his mom.

Coming out of the emotional fog, Rooster turned and opened the door to the Bronco, causing Nickie to pick his head up. Rifling around in the glove compartment, Rooster pulled out a simple gold chain. It was a necklace that his mom used to wear all the time that he kept close to him to remember her. And the simple ‘B’ that hung from the chain was still there all these years later.

“This was hers,” Rooster explained, holding it out to Nickie.

A bit cautious, Nickie walked over and slowly took the necklace from Rooster’s outstretched hand. Studying the chain, Nickie glanced down at the ‘B’ pendant before looking back up at Rooster, who seemed to be waiting expectantly for him to speak.

“Is the ‘B’ for Bradley?”

“It’s for Bradshaw,” Rooster replied softly, smiling a bit painfully. “My dad . . . your grandfather . . . he gave it to her when they first started dating.” Rooster shoved his hands into his pockets, just watching Nickie study the necklace for a moment. “Less than two years later, I was born.”

“My mom showed me the pictures of their wedding,” Nickie returned, rubbing the metal with his thumb. “I guess that young, unplanned pregnancies just run in my family.”

“Both sides,” Rooster agreed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Try to break that streak. Please.”

“Gramps already gave me the shovel talk about it about fifteen times over,” Nickie replied with a dash of amusement in his tone. “And my mom too.”

Running his thumb over the thin gold chain again, Nickie picked up his head and held out the necklace for Bradley to take back. But Bradley shook his head and held up a hand to stop him.

“Keep it.”

Nickie looked a bit taken aback for a moment before he glanced down at the chain in his hand. Slowly wrapping it around his wrist to keep it safe, Nickie turned back to Bradley.

“You know, we’re never going to have a relationship unless you make it up to my mom,” Nickie stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“I know. I understand that,” Rooster replied, nodding along to show that he understood. “I would have been the same way.” Rooster looked away for a moment before turning back to Nickie. “You know, I suggested it to your mom but . . . my mom left me some money. And I know that you’re going to college soon and everything—”

“—I don’t need it,” Nickie interjected, knowing where Bradley was going with it.

“College is expensive and I’m sure that you’re smart but—”

“—I don’t need it,” Nickie repeated, a bit more firmly.

“Are you not going to college?” Rooster asked, trying not to frown but failing anyways.

“No, I’m going to college,” Nickie sassed back, straightening up under Rooster’s frown. “I just don’t want to go to a . . . traditional college."

"Traditional . . ." Rooster trailed off, confused for a moment, before it finally clicked in his mind. Staring at Nickie incredulously, Rooster tried to put his words together despite his shock. “You . . . you want to be a . . . a naval aviator?”

“If they’ll take me,” Nickie replied, nodding firmly.

“Does your mom know?” Bradley asked, causing Nickie to grow a bit defensive.

“Yes.”

“Does Mav know?”

“. . . Yes,” Nickie lied straight through his teeth, causing Rooster to sigh and rub his face.

Well, Nickie got Cora’s inability to lie, that was for sure. He even shrugged his shoulders the same way that Cora did when she tried to lie.

Shifting his weight on his feet, Nickie turned back to Rooster with a slightly skittish appearance. That fear that he had carried around for months, ever since he decided that he really did want to go on and be a naval aviator, crept up again. And even though he talked it out with his mom, he hadn’t yet managed to find the courage to talk to his grandfather about it.

“Did he . . . did he really pull your papers?”

“Yeah, he did,” Bradley sighed, turning back to his son.

Nickie nodded and looked away, his shifting stature giving away how nervous he was feeling. Rooster took in Nickie’s anxiety and swallowed his pride and about sixteen years’ worth of resentment against Maverick before he cleared his throat. Nickie turned back to him, clearly apprehensive, but curious to hear what he had to say nonetheless.

“Mav told me that he regretted it. Of course, that doesn’t change what’s happened . . .” Rooster trailed off, letting a breath out from his nose. Nickie looked up at Rooster, waiting for him to finish his thought. “But it changes what’ll happen down the line.”

Nickie nodded slowly, looking down at the ground again. Staring at his grandmother’s necklace, Nickie turned back to Rooster. He straightened up, trying to look bigger, but he was really just a bean pole at his age, like Bradley was.

“When you get back . . . we can talk. After you apologize to my mom. And my grandfather too.”

Rooster nodded to show that he agreed with Nickie’s terms before Nickie slowly backed up and slipped into his car. Rooster watched Nickie drive off into the night before slowly slipping into his own car. Staring at the steering wheel for a moment, Rooster slowly lowered his head into his hands and let a few tears loose.

~~~~~

Nickie walked around back, having rolled into the driveway sneakily to avoid his mom or grandfather seeing him. Climbing up the side of the house, Nickie reached his window that he left cracked open. Pushing it up more, Nickie started to shimmy into his bedroom when he spotted his grandfather sitting on his bed with an unimpressed expression on his face.

“Hey, Gramps,” Nickie laughed off, trying to appear casual, though him stumbling in through his window definitely didn’t help that. “Just dropped something and thought that it was easier to go out the window than . . .” Nickie trailed off for a moment when he caught his grandfather’s expression. “Is there any excuse that I could use that you would believe?”

“Where did you go?” Maverick asked, getting to the point.

“Uh . . .”

“What’s on your wrist?” Maverick asked, pointing at Nickie’s left wrist.

“Nothing, just a—”

“—Is that Carole’s?” Maverick interjected, easily recognizing the piece of jewelry. Slowly turning to look up at Nickie, Maverick slowly stood up from his bed. “You went to see Bradley?”

“Yeah . . . I did,” Nickie agreed, nodding slowly, staring down at the necklace. “He gave it to me.”

“And . . . how did the rest of your talk go?” Maverick questioned, concerned.

“Well, I didn’t tell him to ‘fuck off’,” Nickie reported, causing Maverick to sigh. “We talked. Mostly about Carole, actually.”

“Bradley was a mama’s boy,” Maverick recounted, nodding sadly. “Not unlike you.”

Nickie nodded as well, staring down at the chain on his wrist for a moment. Slowly unclipping it, he unwrapped the necklace carefully. Nickie reached for the gum tin that he got from Ice and slowly opened it, setting the necklace inside with Goose’s dog tags and Ice’s wings. But the action only reminded him of the conversation he was trying to avoid with his grandfather.

“Your mom told me,” Maverick stated, causing Nickie to turn to him quickly. “Well, she didn’t fully tell me. I just asked her why she looked like she had been crying for a while and put the pieces together from there.”

“She doesn’t want me to go into the Navy,” Nickie replied softly.

“No, she doesn’t. But she doesn’t want to stand in the way of your dreams more,” Maverick returned without a second thought.

Nickie nodded and set the gum tin on his nightstand again. Maverick studied Nickie’s expression for a moment before looking over at the pictures that Nickie had hung up. The one of Goose and Carole caught his eye before he turned back to his grandson, the boy that he practically raised as his own son, as he had done with Nickie’s own father before him.

“And neither do I, Nickie.”

Nickie whipped around to face his grandfather, still a bit apprehensive, though there was that hope budding behind his brown eyes. Maverick managed a smile and nodded to show that he wasn’t lying, which caused Nickie to turn around completely.

“You’re not just saying that because you want me to feel better, right?”

“No, I’m not,” Maverick stated, a bit more firmly. “Though, I do want to be honest with you, Nickie.”

Maverick motioned for Nickie to sit down on the edge of his bed and the two Mitchells sat together for perhaps the final time. Maverick turned to Nickie with a serious expression.

“The whole process . . . it’s not sunshine and daises. And I’m sure that you have your eye on the Academy, and I don’t fault you for that. But I want you to prepare for the reality that politics plays a bigger role in the process than anyone wants to talk about. They kept me out of the Academy because of my dad. And, honestly, I’m worried that they’ll keep you out because of me.”

“I know,” Nickie replied quietly. “Ice warned me.”

“Of course, he did,” Maverick sighed, rubbing his chin.

“I looked into other options. If I can’t get into the Academy, I’ll just try NROTC or OCS. I could even stay in San Diego if I really wanted to do that,” Nickie stated, causing Maverick to nod. “And I mean, even if I can’t become an aviator, I’ll just do my time, get my college degree paid for, and figure it out from there. Maybe I’d become a civilian pilot like you tried to push me to do.”

“Well, you’re a Mitchell. Being in the sky . . . that’s your birth right one way or another,” Maverick stated, smiling a bit painfully. “But I am really glad that you thought through this a bit more. I didn’t want you to get stuck like . . . like Bradley.”

“Why did you pull his papers anyways?” Nickie asked softly, causing Maverick to pause. “I mean, you encouraged me to fly my whole life. Maybe not for the Navy, but you had me up in planes with you since as far back as I could remember. Why would you try and stop Bradley from doing that?”

“My decisions with Bradley . . . your dad . . . I made those decisions because I thought that I was doing the right thing. I thought that I was protecting the son of my best friends. But all I did was end up pushing him away and making him think that I didn’t believe in him at all.”

Maverick looked down at the ground for a moment, before turning back to Nickie.

“And, you know, part of me mixed up Bradley and Goose in my head. And I let what happened to Goose hold Bradley back. I didn’t want him to end up like Goose because I wouldn’t have survived that. But that wasn’t fair to Bradley.” Maverick rubbed his cheek slowly. “You know, they look so damn similar that I just acted on instinct alone.”

“Goose had strong genes,” Nickie remarked, causing Maverick to laugh.

“Yes, he does. He’d be very proud of himself for it too.” Letting out another chuckle and rubbing his chin, Maverick turned back to Nickie. “You know, if he was still here, he would have been bragging to me and anyone who would listen about which side of your family you looked more like. His side, of course. God, he would have held it over my head forever.”

Nickie nodded along and looked at the photo that he hung up on the wall. One of Goose and Carole from before they were even married. They couldn’t have been much older than he was now Nickie realized with a small smidge of dread.

“I wish I got to meet them,” Nickie spoke softly, causing Maverick to slowly tear up.

“Yeah, I wish that you did too, Nickie. Every single day,” Maverick breathed out, forcing a watery smile.

“When do you ship out?” Nickie asked, trying to change the subject to avoid his own tears.

“Tomorrow morning,” Maverick stated, causing Nickie to whip around to face him.

“Tomorrow?” Nickie breathed out, his stomach immediately knotting.

“Affirmative,” Maverick stated, trying to force a smile again. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”

“I know,” Nickie stated softly, not looking entirely convinced.

Slowly, Maverick pulled Nickie in for a tight hug. Nickie returned the hug and tucked his chin against his grandfather’s shoulder. Maverick patted his curled fist against Nickie’s back, forcing himself to not give away the fact that he felt in his gut that this would be the last night that he saw his grandson. Taking a breath, Maverick released Nickie.

“Come on. Let’s join your mom downstairs.”

A.N. Final “main” part will be out either Wednesday or Thursday. And then the epilogue maybe sometime next week.

If you like AUs, don’t forget to vote on the poll that I made last week!

Tags: @xoxabs88xox @eternallyvenus @mygyn @kmc1989 @thegoddessc @midnightmagpiemama @badasspizzalover @praline357 @oatmealisweird @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby

@abaker74 @avengersfan25 @yogabigooby @daisydaisygoose @sgt-barnesveins @angelbabyange @percysaidnever @artemissunn @indiestrashfire @kidd3ath @luv4kani @lt-spork @brooke-stinson

(If I forgot you in the tags, don’t be afraid to ask again because I’m definitely scatterbrained when it comes to that but please have a reference to your age somewhere on your blog (bio, pinned post) or just message me!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Epilogue

310 notes · View notes

ladamedusoif · 4 months

Text

Reunions (The Thief x F!Museum Professional Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 27

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boy Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up with my writing.

Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x Museum Professional F!Reader

Word Count: 2420

Warnings: Smut; fingering; oral sex (M receiving); PiV sex; a lil bit of praise kink; discussion of ethical theft from museums (yes really); The Thief is a charming gentleman cad; no use of Y/N; no physical description of reader other than that she’s wearing a midnight blue dress; alcohol consumption; strong language

Rating: 18+ MDNI

A/N: Intended as a sequel to My Kiss, Only For You - a reunion for the Thief and our museum professional, as he seeks to explain himself.

The museum is always a hive of activity ahead of the annual Winter Ball, the jewel in its fundraising crown. Doors closed to the public a few hours earlier, and since then the exhibition halls have begun to be transformed by an army of decorating staff and caterers, with flower arrangements, lighting displays, and round dining tables being set up throughout the building.

You watch the hubbub from the upper galleries that lead to the offices occupied by the curatorial staff and other professionals. A colleague from the ceramics department joins you, cooing over the extravagant setting taking shape below.

“They’ve had more demand than ever, this year,” they whisper. “The stolen ruby story has generated so much publicity for us! And it means the director can really ham it up when asking for donations from the big cheeses.”

You swallow hard but maintain your composure. You still dream about the night of the theft. Sometimes you’re cursing your own stupidity, sometimes you’re trying to shield the ruby from a hooded, faceless figure.

More often than not, though, you’re reliving the sensation of being eaten out on your own desk by a devastatingly handsome, well-dressed man with nimble fingers and a mouth made for sin.

***

Tonight, he has chosen a double-breasted jacket in a claret-coloured velvet, teamed with perfectly-cut, understated black dress pants, a white shirt, and a black bow tie.

He never fails to congratulate himself on his anonymity: his donations are made under an assumed name or in the name of his charitable trust, and his ability to fade into the background until he wants to be seen means that no one will pick him out of the crowd, recognise him, remember him.

Unless, of course, you’re there.

He always ensures that he excuses himself after the initial drinks reception and before the sit-down dinner - too awkward, too intimate, and he’s almost always seated at a table full of bores. He knows this building like the back of his hand - and knows, too, that the phalanx of additional catering and wait staff means that the back corridors and entrances to the museum will be open and less heavily patrolled. Ever since he pilfered Katarzyna’s Kiss, the security has been amped up - but tonight, he observes with a smile, the attention of the guards is firmly on the display cases and not the myriad ways to navigate this beautiful building.

He climbs the stairs to the hidden gallery that overlooks the main exhibition hall, and takes out his opera glasses to survey the crowd below. He knows the museum staff are unlikely to be seated too near the big cheeses - the directors would never think to put the people who really know their stuff front and centre, after all - so he focuses his attention on the tables around the periphery of the room.

And there you are.

A dress of midnight-blue velvet, he surmises, accessorised with simple drop pearl earrings. He knew you had taste. Knew it from the minute he first saw you, expertly leading specialist tours around the museum. Understood it when he brought you to dinner, and became so entranced by you that he almost forgot he was planning to steal a priceless ruby. Confirmed it when he made you come with his mouth and tongue across your own desk, savouring the delicious taste of you on his lips.

His cock twitches at the memory. He pats his upper breast pocket, finds the envelope, and disappears into the darkness again.

***

You wait at the temporary bar for your post-dinner dirty martini, feet starting to ache in your new shoes and eyes watching the clock so you can get out of here as soon as it’s polite to do so.

“One dirty martini, and a message for you, miss, from the gentleman.”

The bartender pushes your martini in its Nick and Nora glass and a white envelope across the bar.

“From who?”

“The gentleman, miss. He said you would understand.”

You spin around, about to ask the bartender if they recognise the man in the crowd so that you can speak to him directly, but when you turn back they’re gone.

***

You hide behind a display case of Egyptian canopic jars and sit on the floor, taking a few fortifying sips of the icy-cold martini before you dare to open the envelope.

Chérie, how beautiful you are tonight, dressed in the colour of the night sky! Forgive my unusual method of communication - I did not want to make myself known to the boring mass of guests.

I have never stopped thinking about you. I hope for a reunion. Say you’ll come, chérie. I wait for you.

Your Gentleman Thief.

The card is printed with an address located on one of the fanciest residential streets in the entire city.

***

The apartment building is quietly imposing. As you approach the main door, fear strikes you for a moment. This is a thief, after all - a charming one, true, and a handsome one, but still a thief, and one who misled you to get what he wanted.

And yet.

The doorman looks you up and down and opens the door into the lobby, directing you towards the elegant, wood-panelled doors of the elevators. “Seventh floor, miss. The gentleman will meet you there.”

You look at your reflection in the elevator mirror during the short ride. Presentable. Not bad. Probably crazy.

A ping signals that you’ve arrived, the doors open - and there he is. For a moment, you feel as though the ground is about to collapse beneath you, as those penetrating coffee-brown eyes meet yours once again, and that charming smile spreads across his handsome face.

“Chérie, you came to me,” he says softly, embracing you with a soft kiss to the cheek. “I’m so glad. Come, come - this way.”

***

He guides you to a gorgeous mid-century sofa, seamlessly taking your coat and bag as you move through the palatial apartment, decorated with a perfectly curated selection of artworks and artefacts.

“A drink, mi amor? I do enjoy playing at mixology, so I can conjure up whatever you desire. A sour? A sidecar? A boulevardier?”

Your mouth is dry, and you realise with a start that you haven’t said a word yet. “A martini. Dirty. Gin.” You swallow drily. “And a glass of water. Please.”

He prepares the drinks, mixing up a sidecar for himself, and settles beside you on the couch. He somehow looks even more appealing than he did the first night he brought you to dinner, his dark red velvet jacket unbuttoned to show off the perfectly-fitted waistband of his black, tailored pants, and his arm draped invitingly over the back of the couch.

“To art,” he murmurs, holding up his glass in a toast.

“To art,” you echo.

Silence hangs in the air for a few moments until you turn to face him. “Why am I here?”

He quirks an eyebrow and does a half-smile as he appraises you. “Why do you think you’re here?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t play with me again. Please. I won’t be taken for a fool, not a second time.”

A confused, somewhat sad expression sweeps across his face. “I do not think you are a fool, chérie. Far from it.”

“You tricked me.”

He puts his glass down on the elegant coffee table. “I did. And I am sorry. But I meant what I said - I can’t stop thinking about you, and… I want to explain.”

You glance around the room, taking in the extraordinary wealth on display. “Explain? You’re a thief. You steal. And I don’t know why I’m even sitting here with you.”

“I am a thief,” he concedes, shifting closer to you and reaching for your hand, “but all is not as it seems.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“All this, this fortune - I did not earn it. I inherited it, simply by virtue of being the descendant of exploitative capitalists.”

“So why not give it all up? And why steal?”

He chuckles and looks at you in a manner akin to a naughty schoolboy. “I like nice things, chérie. And so do you, I suspect.”

You cannot stop the flicker of a smile that ghosts across your lips.

“You haven’t answered my second question.”

He inhales deeply. “I steal according to a moral compass, and the belief that not everything belongs in a museum - especially if it was stolen in order to put it there.”

Your expression is deeply sceptical. “Two thefts don’t make a…well, a right.”

He nods. “I agree, but my theft often leads to repatriation or returning items to their rightful owners or where they belong - which, I believe, is rather better than wanton looting by colonial powers. Don’t you agree?”

He sips his drink and continues. “So, that’s what I do. I have extraordinary wealth and privilege, and all the time in the world to research and plan. And I try to use those resources - and my intellect - for some kind of good.”

You sip your drink and shake your head. Is this some kind of weird cheese dream, brought on by the mini soufflés at the gala?

“Most people just fund a few galleries, you know.”

He chuckles. “I do that, too. But this is so much more fun, don’t you think?”

That fucking voice. His eyes twinkle mischievously and you can feel an ache between your legs. Fuck, he’s sexy.

You shift closer to him and put down your glass, reaching over to brush an errant curl away from his face. “What if you get caught?”

He bites his lip as he looks into your eyes. “Haven’t been caught yet.”

You trail your fingertips across the greying patches of facial hair along his jaw, noticing how his breath hitches at your touch. “And do you often seduce museum staff as part of your, um, work?”

He’s so close now that you can almost feel the brush of his moustache off your upper lip. He shakes his head. “Only you, chérie, and it wasn’t just for the work, I swear. I mean it, I can’t - I cannot stop thinking about you.”

You feel his hand drop to your leg and snake its way under your dress, caressing the soft flesh of your thigh and making you whine with pleasure and anticipation. “What do you think about?”

He shifts you back onto the couch and moves himself into position above you, hands tracing the outline of your body before he shucks off his expensive jacket. “I think about this,” he whispers, kissing your neck and décolletage. “I think about what it would be like to undress you, to have you completely bare, to play with your tits and your pussy as much as you liked, make you come over and over.”

Your hips buck upwards to meet his, and you moan as you realise how hard he is. You pull up the hem of your dress and slip down your panties, watching as his dark eyes widen, before unbuttoning his shirt and turning your attention to undoing his pants.

“And then what do you think about, thief?”

You pull down his boxer briefs and pants and lick your lips at the sight of his cock: hard, thick, a pearl of pre-come already glistening at the tip. You shift your body down a little so that you can easily lift your head and take him into your mouth, making him cry out at the sensation.

“What do you think about, thief? Tell me.”

You flick your tongue over the head of his cock and take as much of him into your mouth as you can, enjoying how wrecked he looks above you.

“Think about…fuck, think about this… think about oh, fuck - fucking you, taking you, having you, as much as I want - oh, fuck!”

You release him with a pop, move your body back into position and guide his hand between your legs. “Am I wet for you?”

He groans, eyes dark with lust, and nods, slipping two thick fingers inside you and fucking you with them until you come, back arching and eyes rolling with sheer pleasure.

“I need to have you, chérie,” he hisses, and you feel his cock already pressing against your pussy. “Do you want me? Use your words.”

You pull your dress up around your waist and open your legs for him. “Yes. Yes, I fucking want you. Need you.”

He reaches for his elegant black leather wallet and swiftly produces a condom packet, rolling the rubber carefully over his cock before shifting into position against you.

“I’ve wanted this since the day I met you, chérie - wanted you,” and with a steady push he’s inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. He fondles your breasts as you both adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck me, thief.” You are direct, clear - and he obeys, dragging himself almost all the way back out before thrusting back into you and steadily building up a rhythm that has you both moaning with pleasure as he fucks into you over and over again, hands gripping your hips and lips finding yours in a messy, needy kiss.

He slips a finger against your clit and works it until you’re coming on his cock, smiling to himself when he feels your cunt clench around him and the wetness drip down onto his balls.

“Good girl, chérie,” he coos, kissing the soft skin of your breasts, exposed over the neckline of your dress. “I’m going to go a little faster now, a little harder, okay?”

You nod your assent and cry out as he fucks you harder and deeper than you’ve ever been before, legs wrapping around his warm, solid body to pull him even further into you as he comes with a loud groan and collapses onto your chest.

***

He awakes to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and an empty bed. An envelope, simply addressed to ‘My Gentleman Thief’, is propped up against the coffee machine. He opens it with a smile.

Thief,

I wanted our reunion more than I dared admit. And now that I’ve had you, I have a feeling I’m going to want you all the more.

I suspect, too, that you have many more stories to share - preferably over dinner, and then before bed.

You know where I am.

Find me.

Chérie

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #the thief x f!reader #the thief fanfiction #the thief smut #the thief casillero del diablo #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal

76 notes · View notes

imawkwardlysoc · 10 months

Text

i'm about to take you back to church

Song- Church by Chase Atlantic

Pairing- CEO!Phoenix x female!reader

Warning(s)- 18+, MDNI, mommy kink, fingering, oral sex, aftercare

Summary- Natasha going feral after seeing you in your dress.

Wordcount- 1,129

A/N- Happy pride month y'all and here ya go sluts (loving)!

Looking at the time on the clock on my bedside table, I silently cured myself and finished getting ready. Putting on the last of my makeup, heels, and shoes, I grabbed my clutch and headed down the stairs. Checking myself in the mirror, I smoothed down the velvet blue dress before leaving the house.

“Thanks for waiting,” I thanked Charles, Natasha and I’s driver, as I got into the car.

“It’s no problem,” I saw his reflection in the mirror. “Thankfully she already knows that I’m running late. So speed it?”

“Got it,” he winked and started the car.

On the drive to the venue, I sent a message to Natasha that I was on the way and did one last minute touch-up on my outfit. As we got closer to the venue, I started to play with the diamond tennis bracelet that Natasha got me for our two year anniversary to calm my nerves. Even though we’ve been together for almost four years, going to these events still makes me nervous.

“We’re here,” Charles announced as he pulled up to the venue. “Have a fun time.”

“Oh yes, faking to enjoy business proposals is fun,” I chuckled. “Have a nice evening Charles.”

“You too,” he smiled and I headed out of the car.

Walking up the stairs of the museum, I handed one of the security guards my invite and walked in. Letting out a breath, I walked into the main area and searched for Natasha.

“Looking for Nat aren’t you?” Robert, Natasha’s CCO, asked as he walked up to me with two glasses of champagne in his hand.

“Robert,” I smiled and accepted the flute of champagne from his hand before giving him a kiss on his cheek. “And you are right. How are you though?”

“I’m doing pretty well,” he smiled as we walked to where Natasha was.

On our walk there, we said hello to some of the partner’s Natasha’s company has while making small talk with them. We also caught up with each other since we haven’t seen each other in a while. He’s been busy traveling around the world to make deals while I was busy with teaching while Natasha’s at work.

“Look at who I found,” Robert said as we walked up to Natasha talking to Bradley and Jake.

“Darling,” Natasha smiled when she saw me and placed her drink down to give me a hug and a kiss. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” I smiled as I fixed her jacket. “You don’t look too bad yourself. I love it when you wear suits. It makes you all sexy and dominant.”

“Really?” She smirked and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Why don’t we just leave and-”

“Okay, we’re gonna leave before we see a preview of Fifty Shades of Trace,” Bradley announced before the three of them left.

Natasha and I let out a laugh before heading out to the crowd to mingle. Throughout the night, I've mostly been by Natasha's side. Anytime when we were alone, she would try to do some things hoping we could leave early but I stopped her.

“What do I have to do to rip this dress off of you?” Natasha whispered in my ear.

I let out a yawn and looked at Natasha with a slight smirk on my face. Getting the signal, she grabbed her hand and quickly led me towards the exit giving everyone an Irish goodbye. Charles pulled up when we left the building and we got into the car.

“A good evening ladies?” Charles asked us as he drove.

“Yeah, it was a nice evening,” Natasha replied. “Made many deals.”

“Well, you’ll be thanking me while I suffer through another brunch with the wives,” I joked.

“Just order the most expensive thing and put it on my card,” she joked back.

“You really know how to swoon a girl,” I smiled and placed my lips onto hers.

Pulling up to the house, we thanked Charles before leaving the car and heading inside the house. Closing the front door and walking up the stairs, I slowly started to undress myself as Natasha was walking behind me. Putting my jewelry in the little dish on my vanity, I started to take my dress off as Natasha watched me from the corner of her eye as she started to undress herself. Letting my dress fall to the floor, it revealed the lace bra that I was wearing and nothing else.

Laying on our bed, I started to play with myself as she continued to undress herself. I bit the inside of my lip as I rubbed my clit while inserting two other fingers inside my vagina, trying not to let out a moan.

“Oh lord, forgive me for I have sinned.” Natasha removed my fingers and inserted them in her mouth licking them with a grin on her face. “Tasting sweet for Mommy aren’t we? Come on, let out that moan for Mommy.”

Letting out a moan, I let out another one as she inserted her fingers into my vagina making the same motion I previously did. With her free hand, she slid it up my back and unclipped my bra before tossing it to the floor. I fondled my own breasts as her free hand pulled my hair as she placed kisses down my neck down to my abdomen.

“Let Mommy listen to those whimpers,” Natasha grinned as I whimpered softly. “Let those out.”

My wimpers soon turned into moans as she quickened the pace of her fingers. I looked to see that she was also fingering herself as she fingered me which made me moan more.

“Please,” I moaned. “Nat, I need to-” Another moan hit me before I could even finish my sentence.

“Hold on,” Natasha moaned as she released her fingers out of mine and her vagiana as we orgasmed, letting our discharge go.

Panting, she laid down next to me and pulled me closer to her. I wrapped my legs around her as she softly kissed me as she ran her fingers through my hair. She started to praise me telling me how good I did and checked in if I was okay, which I was by the way.

“So, shower or towel?” She asked.

“Towel, I’m too tired to be in the shower,” I chuckled. “Just had the most mind blowing sex in my life.”

“Alright, stay here,” she winked as she got out of bed.

Laying in bed, I reflected back on what just happened a few minutes ago. Soon she came back with a damp warm towel and wiped me while giving me a kiss. Tossing the towel in the dirty hamper, she got back in bed with me and we cuddled until we fell asleep.

#natasha trace x reader #natasha phoenix trace x reader #phoenix x reader #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace #top gun fanfiction #top gun au #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun smut #Spotify

104 notes · View notes

be-with-me-so-happily · 2 years

Text

Summary: Y/N applies to be a styling intern for the One Direction crew during the Where We Are tour. As she gets better at her job and closer to the band and crew (especially Harry Styles), some of her dreams seem to be coming true, but so are some of her fears.

A/N: Umm... buckle in people. That's really all I can say. I feel like that even gives things away!

Warnings: Some language, mentions of alcohol consumption, sexual content (male receiving), recollection of sexual assault, mentions of physical violence (very minimal)

~~~~~

CHAPTER 11 -

NO BABY THIS IS NOT AN ILLUSION

Dec 16th, 2014

Everyone left for New York the next day. One Direction is taping for an appearance on 'The Tonight Show' with Jimmy Fallon, and then performing on freaking Saturday Night Live. You are so pumped for those.

You are chalking up your 'inconvenient' thoughts to intoxication-induced insecurities. You know Harry likes you, he even says he adores you. He didn't do anything wrong and you don't want to ruin what you have because you're overthinking things. Plus, if anything, you want to enjoy these next few days.

"I have a surprise for you, Sunshine!" Harry gleefully exclaims. "Grab your jacket and let's go!"

"Is this another back alley/mob style adventure?" You joke.

He lets out a big laugh. "It won't be filled with mini desserts, but I have a feeling you'll like it."

You both hop in the black SUV and watch the streets of New York go by. He tells you to close your eyes, and he holds your hand until the car engine is turned off.

"Okay! We're here!"

You open your eyes and look around to see the side of a familiar building. It takes you a minute to figure out what it is.

"Shut up. Are we at the Cooper Hewitt Museum?"

He grins so widely.

"I-... What? But, how-..." You can't seem to form your thoughts into words.

"Is this okay? You want to walk through it again, with me this time?"

Butterflies. [You should name them since they live there now]

"But, we will be together."

"Yes, love, that's sort of the point." He chuckles.

"But, we will be seen together."

"Oh. No, we are taking a private tour. We'll be fine. Nobody will notice us, nobody will bother us." He tries to reassure you.

You try to shake the thoughts of inconvenience again and focus on how absolutely sweet this gesture is.

"I can't believe you did this for me." You state.

"You need to start believing that I want to, and will, do these things for you. And it's also for me, I want to see it again!" He smiles.

~~~~~

You walk around the entire museum together. You have your tour guide, a security member from their team, and a few of the One Direction security guards.

You stop at every exhibit, taking it all in again, but experiencing it so differently having someone to share it with. Not just anyone. Harry.

You, of course, linger around the exhibits with the fashion pieces from multiple different countries, and time periods. You study the details of each one and occasionally notice Harry just staring at you as you examine them. The both of you also covertly keep an eye out for that one tour guide with the interesting moustache.

After you've seen every single thing they had on display, Harry thanks all of the staff that you met, and ushers you back to the SUV.

"Thank you for this amazing day, H." You place a soft kiss on his cheek.

As you drive off, he reminds the driver to make that last stop before heading back to the hotel. A few minutes later, you pull up next to the bakery that you had mentioned during that first conversation back in Washington DC. You bite your lip and tears start to sneak into the corners of your eyes.

One of the security guards runs inside, and a minute later comes back out with a box.

"You do actually like mini fruit tarts right?" He asks.

You giggle. "Love."

He opens the box with about a dozen tarts and hands you one. "Good."

~~~~~

You arrive back at the hotel and both sit on the couch to indulge in a couple more desserts.

You put your plate down and look over at Harry. He has his arms behind his head, eyes closed, with a small smile on his face.

You take the opportunity to do something for him. You gently push off the couch and swing your legs over his lap to straddle him. His eyes pop open immediately.

"Hello." He grins.

"Today was amazing. Thank you. I feel spoiled."

"You deserve to be spoiled. You are wonderful, and put up with me. I'm pretty lucky."

"I don't know about that, but you're definitely about to get lucky…" you hint as you move to kiss his jawline.

"Oh shit." He moans.

You rest both forearms on each side of his head as you tangle your fingers into his shoulder-length curly locks. He instantly grabs your hips.

"Love, you don't have to do this," he moans again, "to thank me for anything."

"I want to, either way."

He hums and moves his hands inside your pants. You exhale loudly and can't help but grind on him. You hop off and kneel on the floor, tugging at his pants until he lifts his hips up for you to remove them. Both hands rub up and down his thighs, slowly but firmly. You place your head right over his tip and let some spit dribble down onto him. "Oh my god," he lets out, and you take him into your mouth. He grabs your hair with one hand, and the back of the couch with the other. You move up and down, using your tongue to add pressure as you slide up. His hips start to buck up but you grab them and hold them down until you know he'll stay still. You wrap one hand around his base and match the rhythm of your mouth, causing him to moan even louder. "Fuck Y/N!"

You can feel him twitching, getting closer and closer to orgasm. "I'm close. I'm so close."

You pop your mouth off just for a second, "cum in my mouth."

"Fuck Y/N. You sure?"

"Mhmm" you hum against him, and take him all the way to the back of your throat. In that moment his full body tenses and he releases control. He is breathing so heavy and lays there with his eyes staring down at you as he starts to come down.

You swallow and look up at him. "Thanks for the date today." You smirk.

He runs his fingers through his hair, pulls his pants back on, and then brings you up to the couch. "Can we just lay here and watch a movie?"

"That sounds perfect."

You back yourself up so you're laying against the arm of the couch, and motion him between your legs to lay on your chest. He grabs the remote from the table and props himself up to look at you.

"This really is perfect, right?"

"Yep. This is perfect." You agree.

"And Sunshine, baby, you're perfect," and he plants a sweet kiss on your lips before snuggling back down to start the movie.

~~~~~

Dec 20th, 2014

Saturday Night Live is tonight and while you are always happy to see them sing, you are really looking forward to the skit that One Direction will be participating in. It's not often that you get to see them do those kinds of things.

You are hanging around the set well before the show is set to start. There are a lot of people around so you try not to get in anyone's way, hanging back into the dressing room with Natalie.

"Have you met anyone here?" You ask her.

"Not really, it's pretty busy, just a couple of the crew members."

"Yeah, same here. Feels like I could pass by someone I knew and not even realize it." You state.

As it gets closer to the show, you gather the guys in the dressing room.

"You know the drill, take it off!" Natalie jokes.

They get changed behind the curtain and each comes out for a once over look by you two. Amelia will come in a little later to give the official approval.

"Louis, look at you getting all fancy." You exclaim.

"Just bringing some class to the group, love." And everyone laughs.

Harry is beaming as he comes up to you. "Sunshine, this shirt is everything. We made a good choice." You had helped him pick out a semi-sheer black shirt with thin black pinstripes, black branches, and red flowers placed randomly around it. He looks so good.

"You made a good choice, H."

"No, you deserve to get credit too, love. It is your job after all."

"But it's your style and you're really owning it. I love that."

He winks. "It's all thanks to you, and that first black sheer shirt."

You chuckle. "Honestly, this one might trump that." You pretend to look deep in thought. "I've changed my mind, don't wear that, keep that for my eyes only."

He smirks. "There are definitely things that only your eyes see." He bites his lower lip and looks at yours.

"Don't do it Mr. Styles, it's not professional."

He frowns. You can't tell if it's because of the name you used, or the statement about professionalism.

Then he sighs. "Cheek kiss?"

"Sure." He leans in, places a soft kiss, and whispers, "I'm definitely all yours, Sunshine."

Amelia comes in and gives her approval of their outfits, then an SNL assistant lets the guys know they have 10 minutes until their skit.

~~~~~

It's basically second nature to you now for you and Natalie to stand on the sidelines of the audience to watch them perform.

The 'Girlfriends' skit was so well done. The guys didn't have many lines, but the whole thing was hilarious. The boys in male cheerleader uniforms is definitely something you are glad you witnessed live. You make sure to take a couple of photos if you ever need proof.

A few people come up to you two during the commercial breaks, just asking questions about styling for One Direction and about the touring life. You don't mind the little chats. It's more networking, more fun conversations, and they all have been so nice.

Amy Adams introduces 'Night Changes' and the room gets darker. There is suddenly someone standing on the other side of you.

"Well, shit… Hi." They whisper.

It's a little inconsiderate that they are trying to talk to you during the song, but you look over anyway to be polite.

You feel your entire body freeze, and as if your brain has short-circuited. You manage to grab Natalie's hand and as she turns to you, she gasps. [This isn't happening right now...]

Standing next to you, the person who has the audacity to come up to you right now, is the guy from Vegas.

The guy who touched you, who grabbed you, who wouldn't let you go, who fought with Liam and broke his arm, and who knocked you down giving you a concussion.

"What the fuck?" Natalie whispers.

He has the most arrogant smirk on his face that makes your stomach churn. "Nice to know you remember me."

Hearing him say that, so smugly, makes you feel sick. You wish you could just vomit all over him right now.

The guys must have noticed the hushed commotion, because Harry, Niall, and even Liam start to glance over slightly to their left, where you are situated.

You start getting angry with yourself. You had moved past that night, you even had a few sessions with a therapist to talk it out. But of course you never thought you'd see him again. Not so soon. Not here.

The guys are still glancing over every few seconds. As Natalie tries to maneuver her way between the two of you, boldness and courage take over.

"I remember you… getting punched in the face, by a member of One Direction…" you say, which makes Natalie chuckle.

"So, does that mean you don't want to go grab a drink?"

"I already want to vomit, so no thanks." You snap back.

"Be nice now babe. I just want to catch up." He comments.

[Vomit. Come on, right now, all over him]

"Yeah, I just vomited in my mouth." Natalie claims.

"How do you eat?" You ask.

Your question throws him off. "What?"

"How do you eat? Because I'm looking at a giant asshole right now, so I was just wondering how that works." You state, confidently.

[There it is. You've grown from it and can now throw some punches too, even if just verbal ones]

He huffs, and as the song finishes, the lights come back up and he walks away.

You had been strong, but you now realize you had also been holding in a breath, and you exhale forcefully.

"Oh my god Y/N. That was… I can't… but you were a boss bitch, honey!"

~~~~~

:niall: tell me that wasn't the vegas guy

:you: umm……… it was

:niall: shit. are you okay???

:you: i'm actually fine, promise

- -

:harry: love, is he gone?

:harry: tell me he is gone!!

:you: imma hurt niall

:harry: imma hurt that guy!

:you: he walked away, h, i'm fine

:harry: i'm sending someone to stand with you

~~~~~

After the Weekend Update, and one more skit, it is time for the 'Ready to Run' performance.

The lights start to dim again, and for a second your body tenses up. It must have known something was up, because that jerk is walking up to you once again.

"You've got to be kidding me." Natalie scowls.

"Listen here, I'm gonna forget Vegas, just come have a drink with me." He suggests.

Natalie laughs, "that's hilarious, I knew you were a clown!"

"Shut up bitch." He growls.

"What are you even doing here?" She asks.

"My neighbor invited me. His friend works here or something. But now I'm here to make her get a drink with me." He grabs your hand, but you quickly jerk it back.

Two of the band's security guards step up behind you. One escorts him out, and the other stays behind to stand with you the rest of the show.

Even with the safety of the security guard, each guy looks over at you, in intervals, throughout the entire song. You keep smiling and giving them all a thumbs up.

~~~~~

Harry bursts into the dressing room, and wraps you up in a hug.

"Sunshine…" he sounds like he is on the verge of tears. "I'm so sorry."

"H, it's okay, babe. I'm actually fine." You hold his biceps as his arms are wrapped around your waist. He isn't making eye contact.

"She told him off Harry, it was amazing!" Natalie exclaims.

He looks up and tries to smile. "I just wish I was there."

"You were there." You try to lean in for a kiss.

He sighs, "you know what I mean." then pushes you back so your lips don't meet his yet. "Not now, love."

You feel as if you just had the wind knocked out of you. "Harry, I'm fine. I promise."

He furrows his brow and looks down again.

"Do you know why I was able to tell him off?"

He shakes his head in response.

"Because of you!" His head finally snaps up to yours, and you continue. "You've always made me feel safe and you've helped me to be bold. I knew you were right there. That's how I was able to tell that dickhead off."

That comment makes him smile and you grab his face to kiss him, not giving him a chance to push away. He smiles against your lips, grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss.

"Not professional Ms. Y/L/N!" He jokes.

"Okay, now I'm nauseous again, because you two make me sick." Natalie laughs.

"Let's get going, Sunshine, yeah?"

~~~~~

Back in the suite, you tell Harry that you are feeling great, but want to skip the after party. You just don't want to be around a bunch of people tonight. Harry insists that he stay with you.

"No, H. I promise I'm okay. Natalie is here, and I just want to relax."

"I couldn't be there for you then, but I can be now, I'll do anything you need!" He argues.

"I know you would. You're too good to me. But you know you have to go to the party and I am insisting that you do anyway. It wouldn't look so good if you didn't."

"I don't care! That's not important!"

"You have to. It's kind of your job. I will feel even worse if you don't go. You said you'd do anything I need… I need to not feel guilty."

He frowns. "That's not fair," but he doesn't look mad, just defeated.

"Please, have a good time. That will make me happy. Promise."

"I'm not really going to enjoy it… but I'll go, since you're kicking me out." He smirks.

"Thank you."

He gives you a puppy-eye look, so you add, "I really am alright." You kiss his cheek and send him on his way.

You and Natalie order room service, curl up under some blankets, and watch enough romantic comedies to make a person sick of all the cheesy love.

"So you're really okay Y/N?" She asks, as you finish 'You've Got Mail'.

"It definitely wasn't how I wanted to spend the night. It took me off guard, and shook me a little. But I wasn't going to give him another chance to have some kind of hold on me. It… it empowered me. So I actually feel really good." You reassure her.

"I am honestly so proud of how you handled it, honey." She smiles. "You sounded like me out there." And now she laughs, patting herself on the back.

"I fully take that as a compliment! It was nice to have you there next to me too, as always."

"Always! I love ya Y/N/N!"

"I love you too Nat."

"Those boys do too. They looked so concerned during their performance. It was slightly creepy, but majorly adorable."

You shake your head. "It's just because they are all sweethearts."

"They are, but they all love you too, honey."

You roll your eyes and shrug your shoulders.

She laughs. "Yeah, you're right, Harry definitely doesn't love yo-"

"Stop."

"What? What did I say wrong?"

"He doesn't love me. He's never said that." You argue.

Natalie doesn't say anything yet. She's just frowning.

"If I'm not good enough to be his girlfriend in public, how can I be good enough to love?"

"Now you stop!" She yells. "You know that it's complicated for him. And you know he adores you. I've seen how he looks at you Y/N/N! There's no doubt in my mind that he loves you."

She continues.

"I understand how difficult it is for you to believe, and accept, anyone's love for you. But that doesn't mean people don't. And from what I've seen, he definitely does."

"I just-... I don't know." You mumble.

"You're allowed to have good things, honey. Feelings, happiness, love… and for you it just happens to be with one of the biggest pop stars in the world!"

You just roll your eyes. You're too tired to argue, and so she grabs the remote. "It's my turn to pick a movie, and I say we watch… 'Pretty Woman' now..." She winks.

"You're ridiculous… wait, are you comparing me to a hooker?" You throw a pillow at her.

"I never said anything… now shut up and watch your life story… I mean, the movie!" she laughs.

~~~~~

Dec 21st, 2014

You wake up in the bed and roll over, only to notice that Harry wasn't in the bed. [Maybe he's out on the couch so he didn't wake you up]

You look at your phone and notice you have a missed call from Niall, and a few text messages.

:harry: definitely not enjoying this without you

:harry: they played that starship song you sang, remember that? i miss you

:harry: niall bought me drinks!

:harry: i hate that guy, i would've punched him

:harry: missssss yooooouuu

:harry: jm oin kloobver wif tyuoop

You giggle, figuring that meant that he did end up enjoying his night. You are about to head out of the room and to the couch, when you notice that Niall had texted you too.

:niall: harry fell asleep in my room, he's too drunk

:niall: but

:niall: we need to talk

~~~~~

Series Masterlist || Chapter 10 || Chapter 12

Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @slut4lilyrose @pinktakeaway @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @gucci-hazza

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles series #harry styles tour #one direction tour #one direction fanfiction #one direction #long hair harry #prince hair harry #where we are tour #otra tour

165 notes · View notes

r0-boat · 2 years

Note

Hey r0! Its been a while and I saw you had requests open. Would you be up to writing a bit of Animatronic Submas Twins? I keep the au of them being animatronics in the back of my head constantly

A fellow robot fucker I see👀

I'm sorry if I heavily base this off of Five Nights at Freddy's 😭

Sfw

Famous train station, maybe a history museum for trains or a train seen the park or location and animatronic twins Ingo and Emmet on their mascot/ helpers.

These robots are highly Advanced and sometimes have a "mind of Their Own"( your boss's words)

Understanding these robots are high above your pay grade as a night time security guard, so you brushed It Off.

A mind of their own is not something you would call it.

Emmet would scare you shitless when you open the monitor see him staring into the camera.Or when you see ingo watching you every move through the window or the open door.

Hear metal footsteps echoing through the Halls, or metallic scratching when you close the door for too long

You seen them before during the day and they're actually really Pleasant, very human-like greeting each guest with utmost professionalism and friendliness. The children especially love them, they're open to hugs and photographs and can display ranges of emotion.

They look so human it's almost uncanny.

But during the night the empty expressions and their unlit eyes and shining red pupils never fail to send Shivers down your spine.

You tried to keep them out as much as you can everyday we see more and more either to get to you what do they want with you? you don't want to know... you came in during the day to grab your jacket that you left you felt their eyes burn holes into your backside while you walk past them.

You fear that day that you have to go out of the safety of your cubicle.

More stuff that's a little suggestive

Slight yandere

They are eager to please every guest in the registration you are no exception, in fact you are the top priority other than what their program to of course. Oh they wish they could go against protocol the things they could say and do to you.

They are Advanced Machinery maybe even more so. They see you during the day sometimes when you show up during your days off. They can't help but swoon.

Seeing you fills them with so much joy

They are not just company props they have more say than you know, if they wanted to know they could really do something to you in the company anymore about it

Your little boss thinks he runs the place but actually it's them and he knows it they are slowly taking over and the only way to keep them at Bay is for him to smile and comply

Here you are in your little office trying your darn hardest to keep them out. They will find a way to you.

Yes they could have you in their hands but they like this little game you are playing with them

They're just a little curious why don't you let them in :)

Nobody will know~

#pokemon ingo #submas #ingo #emmet

83 notes · View notes

dingertdongert · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1

You were bored, out of your mind.

Working at the shop counter in a museum should be fun. You've seen Night at the Museum 1 through 3, it's definitely supposed to be fun. Admittedly, there wasn't a security guard position available, not like you could fill that anyway. Plus you did only work during the day, which probably played a role in it. Your new manager Donna, swore there would be someone here to train you, but lo and behold, no one is present.

Hence, the never-ending boredom.

You flicked at the keychains arranged on the tree display in front of you, watching the blues and golds of the charms sway back and forth, clinking together. You only look up when you hear Donna scoff in a disapproving tone as she strides in front of the desk. Straightening up straight away, worried you were somehow already in trouble, you quickly notice her attention was away from you.

Focused on someone speed-walking towards you, keeping his head down, whilst mumbling apologies.

He slid behind the desk, right next to you, hastily shoving his satchel underneath and then standing to attention to Donna.

'Stevey, what was it this time hm? I would be fascinated as to what excuse you have'

'Sorry Donna, my bus came early ag-'

'Oh whatever, I've suddenly stopped caring. You could have at least been on time as a good role model for Y/N' she said, gesturing towards you.

He quickly turned towards you, probably only just realising there was someone else there, and that's when you finally got to get a good look at him.

He's cute. The instant first thought that appeared in your mind. Wavy, dark brown hair that was hastily brushed to the side, thick dark brows, 5 o'clock shadow. Nice tanned skin and chocolate-coloured eyes, with wrinkles on either side, as if he were smi-.

Oh he's smiling. 'Oh god did he say something, cause I definitely didn't hear'

You flushed and gave back a shy smile in return.

'Forgive me for my tardiness, I know Donna won't, I'm Steven, you must be Y/N'. He held out his hand, and you took it, both giving a quick shake. They were large, and rough, definitely not what you expected for a man that works in a gift shop.

As Donna continued to berate him, you went back to observing him as you tried to persuade yourself, out of innocent curiosity. You were in reality just checking him out. A patterned button-up and grey jacket covered his upper half. You still could see that he obviously kept in shape outside of the gift shop, with how the jacket occasionally strained on his arms and over the shoulders before he'd adjust it. He just had a simple pair of dark, loose jeans on, not loose enough, as you could still tell he had a good butt hidden beneath them.

'Anyway, I'll leave you two to it. I've got better things to do' and she was gone.

An awkward silence fell over your area like a vacuum had formed around you.

'So...' Steven started, looking down and tapping his fingers on the countertop. 'Uh, what exactly have you been shown... if anything?'

'Well, uh, nothing... Sorry' You answer.

'Not your fault is it... where to start' He murmured, rubbing his hands on his trouser legs and looking around aimlessly. 'I guess, labelling?'

'Sure' you shrugged.

'So, you uh, use this gun thing. Pew pew heh heh' he chuckled nervously, vaguely pointing it at you. You giggled shyly as he looked down. 'God sorry, um anyway, you can see down here our amorphous box of treats. Let's see here-' he pulled out a small, porcelain figure of a man with a jackal head. 'Do you know who this is?' He asks, wiggling him at you.

'A-Anubis right?' You say, doubting yourself for second with the sudden question.

'Yes, well done. He's known as the lord of the dead, and he cares for the dead. Eventually, he took up the role of the 'conductor of souls'. The Egyptian people would credit him with the creation of embalming, saying he did it on Osiris' corpse. Though, Osiris would go on to replace him in the underworld, which is how he became the conductor of souls. When you die, he would weigh your heart, to see how much of a balanced and good person you were, and if you could make it into the field of reeds. That's their version of heaven ya know?'

He continued to ramble on, as you surprisingly listened intently. You never found this kind of thing interesting before, but there's something about listening to him, and his obvious passion, you couldn't help it.

'Oh god sorry... I didn't even explain how to do it... I just talked, how about you choose something'

You walked over to the container, fished around and pulled out a woman with what looked like a kind of basket on her head.

'Ooo, that's a rare one, I bet you won't know who she is'. You shook your head, not afraid to admit when you've been bested. 'She's Nephthys, goddess of the air. She helped with Osiris being brought back to life, so you'll see her on coffins and all that sort all the time, supposed to be a 'Protector of the dead'. Sometimes she's shown as a hawk or a mourning woman'. You again nodded, turning the decoration in your hand to inspect it. 'Anyway, there's this barcode sheet here'. Steven handed it to you, 'Scan the barcode next to the product name, so this would be Nephthys figure'. He pointed for you, and you pointed the gun in turn, which gave out a quick beep. The price label printed out of a small sticker printer on top of the counter. You ripped it off and stuck it on the base of the figurine. 'Nice work'

'It's not hard, really' you shrugged. Another awkward silence. Both of you stood there, looking anywhere but at each other. Your attention focused on the container of figurines, 'So... which one of these is Osiris?'

Steven immediately perked up and quickly pulled out the corresponding figure. He started to spew every single thing he knew about him, as you pulled out each Osiris figure one by one, scanning and labelling them. Eventually, you plucked the one he was holding from his hand and did the same.

This went on for the rest of your shift, you asking about each figurine to find out who it was, and labelling them all. It definitely wasn't an excuse to indulge in Steven's interests and have him talk to you with such enthusiasm. Nothing to do with that whatsoever. The time flew by and it was almost the end of both your shifts. 'Do you have any other questions... not Egypt based this time?'

'How do you see the timetable? And how do you access the electronic pay slips? And uh... how does the register work?'

'Oh... yeah those are pretty important. The timetable was your first question, so I'll show you that'. He pulled out his phone and showed you how to input the username and password based on your name and date of birth. He leaned in close enough to you for you to be able to smell him. Not in a weird way, it was just too obvious, and couldn't be avoided. It was woody, a mix of vanilla and a hint of musk. It was really good.

There was the timetable, 'Hey, your next shift is tomorrow, with me. Ain't that neat'. You didn't have the heart to mention that you were the only two full-time gift shop workers. 'I'll see you tomorrow, and be able to show you the more important stuff. I won't go on about the gods too much'.

'Oh no, please go on about the Gods. I like learning'. You say in protest, without thinking. Steven responded with a shy smile and 'I'll keep that in mind, most people find it annoying... Donna thinks I'm trying to worm my way up to being a tour guide, which you know, would be great! But I just really like this stuff'.

'We need someone here who knows what they're talking about. That's how you sell stuff to all the uneducated'. He giggled, 'Yeah you're right'.

The end of the shift came, and he showed you how to do some of the closing routines. Cash out, clean the counter, etc etc.

You walked out together into the dark. 'Oh bugger, I need to catch my bus, but I'll see you tomorrow'. He gave a quick wave before running in the opposite direction you were heading.

You knew this was going to be an interesting new career experience for you. You just hoped you'd be able to connect with him more before your training period was finished. There was no way you could stand every Monday to Friday, 9 till 5 standing in silence and avoiding each other. But then again, you felt like there was something there, yes it was early days, but you couldn't deny there was just something about him, something special. He was interesting and unique, and you were going to find out everything that made him that way, you told yourself. You carried on thinking about him, as you trod your way home.

#steven x reader #steven grant #fanfic #moon knight #romantic #slow burn #marvel moon knight

32 notes · View notes

221bshrlocked · 2 years

Text

Security Check (7)

Security Check Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader

Words: 1124

Warnings: Overthinking things for no reason.

A/N: Only three more parts left people. Thanks for reading!!! Please let me know how I’m doing in the comments, I’m in constant need of validation. Add yourself to the taglist here.

It wasn’t that you thought you were an imbecile. Far from it as a matter of fact. It was the new level of respect you had for your brain because after everything that happened with Bucky yesterday, you were sure there was no way you’d be able to focus during classes. You haven’t even prepared for one of the lectures today but by some miracle, your students came after class and told you the examples you used to further explain the Circumstantial sdm.f were so much clearer than the last lecture.

You saw him a few times throughout the day, but refused to acknowledge him after seeing him earlier in the lounge. You were busy with the microwave when he winked at you causing you to not only drop your fork but walk into the wall when you tried to leave. He almost spat out his coffee, trying to catch up to you to make sure you were okay and swearing under his breath when you shut the door behind you and ignored him when he called your name.

By lunch time, you were surprisingly done with most of the things on your agenda for the day, feeling a little suspicious about your schedule because when had you ever finished things in a timely manner? You guessed it was because you were in a chirpy mood, rolling your eyes at yourself because for the first time in forever, a man was slowly taking over every aspect of your day and shaping it without even trying.

A loud ding from your laptop broke the silence in your office and your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was from. But then you opened the email and groaned when you saw he wanted to speak to you about the gala.

Grabbing your phone and ipad, you made your way down the stairs and saw him chatting with the museum store cashier. You stood there for a few minutes, hoping he’d notice you so you didn’t interrupt the conversation. When he still didn’t notice you, you decided to walk through the exhibits and check to make sure things were where they should be.

A few minutes later, you heard someone shuffling behind you and turned around to see Bucky fixing his hair.

“You didn’t tell me you were down here!” He put a few strands of his hair behind his ear, fixing his jacket and gloves before motioning for you to walk with him.

“I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt your conversation.”

Bucky leaned down in your space, and you felt his hand push on your lower back just a little, the contact making you shiver and almost lose your footing.

“You can interrupt me anytime you want sweetheart. I don’t mind.”

God, this man was going to sexually frustrate you to death.

“So umm, what did you want to review?” You cleared your throat and turned away from him, refusing to give him any more power over you than he already had.

“I just wanted to walk around to make sure I understood everything that was sent to me and I was going to ask where you want me?”

“W-where I want you?” The question caught you off guard and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he stopped walking and looked at you.

Did he mean-

“Yeah, where would you like me to stand for the duration of the night? Or am I supposed to be walking around and checking if everything is as it should be?” Bucky wasn’t an idiot. He knew you misunderstood his words and a part of him was a little glad you were thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you.

“Oh. Umm, no, there'll be guards in each room that aren’t meant to leave their spot so you should be walking around.”

“Got it. I guess we should go around then.” Bucky smiled at you and he could tell you were still a little embarrassed but he said nothing, knowing the gala needed your attention more than him.

You quickly forgot your awkward responses once you started going through the exhibits, answering all of his questions and reviewing some other things with him. He was incredibly patient and even apologized when he had to cut you off to ask about something he didn’t quite understand. An hour and a half later, Bucky was opening the exit door for you, smiling when you thanked him and walked through while writing something on your ipad.

He sighed in relief when he went into his office and locked the door behind him.

Never in his life did he think he’d get hard just from the sound of your heels clicking on the hardfloor. It took everything in him not to say anything and even more to hide himself whenever you turned around and spoke with him.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he was taking out his phone and texting you, hoping you’d agree and go to dinner with him.

He was afraid you’d overthink this again and hoped to whatever higher power existed that you didn’t. By the time he decided he’d text you that you didn’t have to go with him, his phone was buzzing with a notification. He unlocked it and saw you’d told him when you’d finish for the day and if there weren’t museum visitors right now, Bucky would have screamed ‘hell yeah’ at the top of his lungs. Somehow, you were making him act like a lovesick teenager again and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

But something told him this was going to be a good night.

Two floors up, you were pacing back and forth in your office, afraid you’d responded too quickly and made him think you were desperate. You quickly remembered what he told you about not overthinking and rubbed your temples, relaxing enough to think through your anxiety and realize he probably wasn’t thinking that at all.

You really wanted to prepare for tomorrow but a part of you knew you shouldn’t spend the night by yourself because you might drive yourself crazy with how much you’d overthink about tomorrow. It will be fine. It’s just dinner and conversation, not like he was asking you to go home with him or anything. No, he wouldn’t put you in such a tight spot a day before the gala.

“Breathe Y/N. Just breathe. It’ll be nice and fun. He’ll take your mind off of this shit and you’ll wake up relaxed.”

You kept on repeating those words until you were shutting your door and locking it behind you to meet him downstairs.

It was going to be a good night.

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @princess76179 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @captainkittehh-blog @talk-geek-to-me @acthenerd @positionsfyou @perfectnerdarbiter @words-way-of-life @a--1--1--3 @niall7inches @nevenabadr @atashi-no-yuuki @marsplsstop @lostinspace33 @planetariumx @leannawithacapitala @wonderkandfandomkingdom @cheekygeek05 @gothicxbarbie @hypnoash @sugarpunch-princess @pleasantlysecretdream @zanzann @reaperofmen @inhumanwithpowers @youremyfriend-youremymission @thegirlnextdoorssister @yuukiblissthemusicwitch @hallecarey1 @s-u-t @yourdragonsfire @buckybarneshairpullingkink

Security Check Taglist: @pipersdoodles

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky/reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes #security check #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au

54 notes · View notes

laurasanchez36 · 1 year

Text

Malaysia Campbell My NEW MSA and Night At The Museum OC

Full Name: Malaysia Campbell

First Name: Malaysia

Last Name: Campbell

Nicknames: Mrs. Campbell, Mom, Dollface

Gender: Female

Profile pic

Age: 20

Blood Type: B+

Occupation: Night Security Guard

Past Occupation:

Favourite Shows/Games: Fantasy/Action/Comedy/Adventure

(Night at the Museum (Movies and Games), Poptropica: Night Watch Island, Paul Blart: Mall Cop (Movies), Home Alone (Movies))

Family: Samiya Campbell, Lottie Campbell and Martha Campbell (her daughters), Robert Campbell (her son), Tommy Campbell (her husband) and all her families

Friends: Her Manager, Night Security Guards (Friends)

Enemies: Robbers Burglars

Instrument: Guitar

Favourite Animal: Dog/Kitsune (her pet called her name is ___)

Species: Human

Alignment: Good

Likes: Her Dog/Kitsune, keeping the safe job, Night Security Guards (Friends), checked out of the Museum Locations indoors, Security Cameras are all working

Dislikes: Security Cameras are lost signals and no signals, Robbers Burglars

Goals: Keep watching over during Nighttime in The Museum

Weapons: Flashlight

Powers and Abilities: Strength

Skills and Abilities: Night Security Skills, Check Security Cameras

Skin Colour: Medium

Eyes Colour: Reddish Pink

Hair Colour: Reddish Pink

Clothes: Night Security Guard Outfit, with her Jacket

Shoes: Black Shoes

Accessories: None

Hair Styles: Shaggy Bob

Malaysia Campbell belongs to my new msa and night at the museum oc

@mysteryideasgroup and @sfcabanasstarcgs

#my new msa ocs #msa x night at the museum #malaysia campbell my new msa and night at the museum oc

7 notes · View notes

xshatteredreflectionsx · 1 year

Note

five times glanced at:( five times the receiver noticed the sender stealing glances at them ) (Yancy, theauthorlives, OH MY GOD IT WAS SO HARD TO CHOOSE SEVERAL WOULD HAVE WORKED FOR THEM ;A; )

@theauthorlives

First Glance

Warden Murderslaghter shooed the two of them away with a cheerful wave as he tucked the box under his arm, indifferent to the fact that Mark was all but being choked by a police baton as the security guard forcibly dragged him away. He was shoved into the prison rec room roughly, flailing his arms to maintain his balance.

“I want you to know that I fully blame you for this,” Mark said with a hiss, tugging the hem of his prison shirt to smooth the wrinkles.

“We were chased out of the museum by guards with guns, I panicked!” Morgan argued back.

At one of the corner tables, Morgan saw him. A man who looked like he had just walked off the set of a 50’s greaser movie, tattoos and all. He just needed a leather jacket and a cigarette. He had been looking at them over a hand of playing cards, his gaze hardening to an annoyed scowl once he realized he had been caught. They could practically hear the “tha fuck are yah lookin’ at, yah mook?” from where they stood.

“I pAnIcKeD,” Mark mocked. Morgan leveled a glare at him, and he stared back firmly in kind. After a few moments he huffed out a breath through his nose. “Well, it looks like it’s up to me to get us out of this mess,” he said, rubbing his hands together as he glanced around the room. He slung an arm around Morgan’s shoulders to bring them in close, hand cupping around his mouth. “The prisoners look like they wanna start something, so we could incite a riot.” Morgan glanced up at the assembled prisoners. Some of them had ignored their presence entirely, too absorbed in their own activities to pay the new bloods any attention.

“... or we could- Oh for the love of-” Mark snapped his fingers sharply in front of Morgan’s face. “Focus! God, this is why I don’t work with amateurs.” He pulled Morgan to a small, empty table off to the side and plopped them down in an uncomfortably hard plastic chair. “Look. We both know you probably belong here-” Morgan kicked his leg under the table. Mark winced but continued unabated. “But I’d like for both of us to get out. So please, for the love of God, stop getting distracted and help me come up with a plan.”

Morgan blew their bangs out of their face with a huff and nodded.

Second Glance

Mark was... they honestly didn’t know where Mark was. Last anyone had seen of him, he had been punched through a wall by a guy twice his size and bulk. And against all odds, Morgan had been assigned to the same cell as Yancy- that greaser guy- despite getting into a fist fight with him. Maybe the Warden didn’t care enough to remember, or maybe he did it on purpose. Whatever his reasoning, they were suddenly in a very confined space with the same man they had given a black eye to not even a day previously.

Suffice to say, their plan to escape had gone so far south, it had burrowed into the center of the earth.

Yancy mainly stuck to his bunk once the prisoners were herded into their cells for the night, hopping into the one on top with practiced ease and pulling a pad of paper and pencil out from underneath his pillow. Morgan hunkered down at the small, yet oddly adorable plastic table and chair in the corner of the cell. It wasn’t that they weren’t tired, it was that they didn’t trust Yancy not to stab them in their sleep for disrespecting him in front of his crew. He had taken it well enough at the time, but that could have just as easily been to save face.

“Youse’s punchin’ form is shit. Jus’ so youse know.” Yancy said suddenly, looking at them from the corner of his eye. “Youse’s thumb was stickin’ out for all th’ word ta see. Surprised ya didn’t break it on my jaw. Jus’ wanted t’let you know.”

Morgan’s eyebrow quirked so high it nearly merged with their hairline. Of all the things he could have commented on, it was their punching form he settled on? They stared at his profile, lips settling into a hard line. “Listen. I don’t fuckin’ care what youse do here, just stop starin’ at me like that. It’s fuckin’ creepy.” He grumbled, not taking his eyes off whatever he was scribbling. Morgan tore their gaze away and looked down at the table, hands tugging at the ends of their hair.

If they could just touch the box, they could trigger one of those freaky resets and get the hell out of here. Sure, it would probably end with their death –it had every other time- but it would be better than... whatever this was.

Third Glance

“Okay. So, I just fuckin’...” Tiny stared down at the two lark’s head knots in front of her like they owed her money. Her eyes narrowed into concentrated slits and her tongue poked out from between her lips as she took the two outer cords in her hands. Outer left over the middle and under the outer right. Outer right cord under the middle, through the loop, and under the over the outer left. She pushed the knot up and repeated the process in the opposite direction. She let out a triumphant bark of laughter and held up a nearly perfect square knot. “Check this fuckin’ shit out!” She boasted. Jimmy the Pickle, already halfway through a masterfully crocheted scarf, let out a grunt. Morgan was fairly sure that was his Supportive Grunt. Maybe. Morgan smiled proudly and gave a supportive nod.

In the months they had been in Happy Trails, they had folded into Yancy’s gang surprisingly well. They even had a nickname: Snapshot (“Knots” and “Macrame” had already been taken by one of the kitchen staff and a creepy contortionist-turned-serial murderer respectively) and had formed an odd sort of comraderies with Pickle over their shared love of handcrafts; the hulking giant of a man knew how to knit, crochet and cross-stitch. No one who valued their faces dared to mock him for it. Tiny invited herself into their corner of the rec room one day since, quote: “My girl loves shit like this and I wanna surprise her next time she visits.”

“Christ, is he staring again?” Tiny asked. Morgan’s face flushed and they quickly turned themself in their chair. “It’s honestly getting embarrassing how often I catch him doing it.”

Mark had appreciated and marveled at Morgan’s crafts whenever they had a peaceful moment together, but he had absolutely no talent for it. It was nice to have a small group of people to swap techniques and trade bits of string and/or yarn with.

They set down their latest project –a small tapestry to add some color to their cell- and stretched their arms over their head, stretching over the back of their chair. When they opened their eyes, they saw Yancy at the table he and some of the other guys were playing cards. Morgan righted themself and turned around in their chair to face him, giving him a wave. Yancy, to his credit, played it off as smoothly as he could, pretending to peek at the cards Bam-Bam just dealt him.

Morgan scrambled for their notepad and quickly scribbled: “He doesn’t stare at me that often." Tiny and Pickle exchanged a look.

“You honestly don’t notice? Holy shit, you’re both hopeless.” Morgan asked her what that meant, but she flipped her hair over her shoulder and focused on her cords. “I can’t help you if you’re that blind.” She said. Futilely, Morgan looked to Pickle for clarification, but he continued to work on his scarf, not even offering a grunt.

Fourth Glance

Far, far away from The Happy Trails Penitentiary, a Mechanic and a Captain worked on a starship that would ferry over 100,000 souls to a new planet. It was a simple mission until it wasn’t; until time warped around them and space crashed into the ship with the fury of a hurricane.

Morgan couldn’t remember the circumstances that led to this particular scenario; something stupid they had said or done most likely. Whatever the case, Lady had gotten tired of playing nice, and ordered every able-bodied ship still receiving transmissions to open fire on The Invincible II, declaring it a threat to galactic order and offering a ridicuously high bounty to whomever could destroy it.

The Invincible II jerked violently as another barrage of gunfire tore into the hull, Morgan’s shoulder crashing painfully into a nearby wall. They clutched onto Yancy’s hand and forced themself to move forward, dragging him along. If he said anything, Morgan didn’t hear it; they were certain that they had gone deaf when that explosion went off on the bridge.

Celci and a team of officers from Cryo, Engineering and ADS had been ordered to evacuate to the new colony planet. The Cryobay also doubled as its own escape pod that could break away from the ship in extreme emergencies and was already heading towards the new planet. The Invincible II and her Captain wouldn’t live to see that new planet, not in this universe, but innocent people would. Celci would make a better leader than Morgan could ever hope to be (sorry not sorry, Mark, but Morgan had overridden Celci’s ASSHAT position once things started going to hell). When Morgan and Yancy made it to the escape pod bay, they wasted no time in shoving him into the nearest one.

These escape pods only had enough room and rations for one person. And... well... Morgan hadn’t been a very good Captain. The least they could do was go down with the ship.

Morgan was thankful for their deafness in that moment; they weren’t able to hear Yancy’s desperate pleas. Even muffled, they tore at Morgan’s chest as he attempted to force open the escape pod hatch, pounding on the porthole desperately. They inputted the new planet’s coordinates into the computer, looked at Yancy and smiled.

“I love you. Please live for both of us.” They signed, slow and deliberate. Yancy glanced at them desperately before his pod was shot off into space, far, far away from The Invincible II.

Fifth Glance

They weren’t scared anymore; they’d be back soon enough. But there was never a guarantee that Yancy would be counted among the crewmembers, so they resolved to save as many versions of him as possible. Anything to give him the life he deserved, even if they couldn't be a part of it.

Morgan re-adjusted their hair in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon, frustration seeping into every fiber of their being. They had styled their hair like this because it looked slick but still casual; now it was taking everything they had to not take a razor to their head and just start over. They’d probably regret it immediately after, and they didn’t even own an electric hair razor; so that idea was out. Eventually, however, they were victorious in The Great Blood Feud of Their Stupid Hair Curls and straightened out their outfit, satisfied in the way they looked. Their uniform was left on its hanger in their closet in favor of something that was more... them. Something airy and comfortable in purple and brown rather than stark white and black and gold.

Yancy didn’t even bother to knock before entering Morgan’s quarters, waltzing on in like he owned the place (which, to be fair, he partially did. No one needed to know he only slept in his assigned quarters just enough to avoid suspicion). His own uniform had been tossed aside in favor of a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a heavy black leather jacket. His gaze caught Morgan’s in their reflection, and he grinned, wrapping his arms around their midsection from behind and nuzzling into the crook of their neck and shoulder.

“There’s my Snapshot,” he purred. “Not that you don’t look fine as hell in your uniform, but...” He glanced up at Morgan with a half-lidded smile. Morgan rolled their eyes and pinched his cheek playfully.

“Demerit.” They signed.

“Ah-ah-ah. Youse ain’t the Captain today, remember? Youse is just Morgan, who I'm takin’ on the date I’ve owed them for way too long at this point.” A promise that had been made lifetimes upon lifetimes ago, before warp cores and wormholes and endless circles. When it had just been the two of them on a single bunk, limbs twisted together to accommodate both of them. A promise that Morgan hung onto in their darkest moments and carried with them from one universe to the next.

Morgan spun around in Yancy’s arms to look at him properly, so close their noses bumped. It was as simple as breathing to close what little distance was between them and seize Yancy’s lips in a kiss; the first in so, so long that hadn’t been desperate or hungry or salty with tears. Warm and tender and proof that the two of them had survived, and that they had the rest of their lives to spend as they wished.

(In Morgan’s ideal world, the rest of their lives included a marriage certificate with both their names on it and rings exchanged in a quiet clearing with only a select few present to act as witnesses. They wouldn’t ask today, but someday soon.)

#(This was a harder one because “glance” is so limited a word so I took some liberties)#(BUT I DID IT)#My heart lives behind bars (Morgancy)#(My beloveds ;u;)#theauthorlives #(Okay bed time now nighty night)

3 notes · View notes

braxien12 · 2 years

Text

ShuYuka: Thief AU

The museum had been broken into again. The police had been trying to catch the thief for ages, but this time, they were right on their tail.

Yukari raced through the european night, the cool wind whipping back her hair and hitting her face as her heels clicking rhythmically against the roofs helped her time each jump. She clutched the small unassuming satchel close to her side so it wouldn’t slip off, it’s weight heavy with a new piece.

A stolen necklace.

It was a simple run. The necklace had been at the museum for a month. The press had died down and the tourist had stopped coming to see it. Nobody would expect someone to steal something that’s out of the limelight.

So on a quiet night - hours after the museum closed - there was a dip in the security and Yukari striked. Her feet touched the floor safely and the artifact was one grab away when all the lights suddenly came on.

Officers had surrounded her. All of their guns trained on her.

“Shit,” Yukari hissed. The artifact was to her immediate left. With a quick motion she could still grab it.

“It’s over!” She guessed the police chief yelled. “Turn yourself in!"

Watching the guards closely, her hand slowly slipped down to the satchel hidden behind her back. “Come on guys. Can’t we work this out in a way that doesn’t involve me going to jail?”

“You should’ve thought of that before you went on a stealing spree.”

“Hey, a girl’s gotta eat.” Using the bow on her back, in a quick motion of her hands she aimed it up at the skylight and shot an arrow. A line erupted from the arrowhead and snagged the edge of the roof’s lining, acting as a perfect grappling hook.

“Bye~” A small tug and she was airborne. The cops started shooting at her. The bullets whizzed by her but none of them touched her.

“Sir! The necklace is gone!” She heard one of the soldiers yell below her while she had already pulled herself over the ledge. Yukari rolled her eyes. After two years of doing this, she’s really lost respect for police departments everywhere. Though there are a few she admits caught her off-guard a few times.

“She’s getting away! After her!” The police ran away like scrambled foot soldiers beneath her and she took off by roof.

Leading to her current predicament.

The police were on a full search, setting the nightlife of the town into high alert with how many cops were running through the streets and she was quickly running out of level roofs to jump to.

The next building had a fire escape. Seeing as she had no other option and seconds from the edge of the building, she clutched the bag of satchel closer to her side and on the edge of the building she leaped off, her hand quickly finding the iron railing of the fire escape and flaring up from the impact.

‘Why did I have to grab that with my gloveless hand?’ Yukari winced. She made sure to switch hands to her gloved one as she dropped down to the rest of the railings until her feet were safely on the ground.

“Yukari?”

She spinned around, quickly pulled her bow and had an arrow notched and pointed it in the direction the voice came from.

Minato, an old classmate and close friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, stared wide-eyed with his silvery blue eyes at the sharp tip of the arrow aimed at his throat.

Yukari gasped and quickly equipped the bow back on her back, “Minato!”

“Wha-”

“I saw her fall down here!” Someone yelled from somewhere close by. Yukari panicked. The police had already seen what she looked like and with her pink bow and quiver strapped to her back there was no chance they wouldn’t recognize her.

She was about to make a break for it when a sharp tug to her arm twirled her right back around into Minato’s chest. Something warm was draped over her back and her vision was obscured by fabric. She recognized it as a jacket before her back was pressed uncomfortably against the wall and the hard ridges of her bow and arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her front against a hard chest.

A different type of panic began to fill her after she realized Minato quite literally had her pinned against the wall. She pressed both hands to his chest to push him away. In retaliation the arms wrapped around her waist tightened and the next thing she knew she could feel his warm breath on her neck.

“Shh.” The contrast of the cool air to his breath so close to her ear sent a shiver down her spine and a blush rose up her neck.

The running footsteps stopped in front of the alleyway, the officer’s heavy panting adding to the tense atmosphere of the alley.

Minato had her sandwiched between himself and the wall. The material of her suit did well in keeping away the cold, but it did nothing to hide the warmth radiating from the boy so valiantly pressed against her to hide her from the justice-seeking law, or keep away the fresh scent of peppermint and moonlight that was so uniquely him and brought back memories of late summer nights on the pier, both of them a lot in love and a little too tipsy to keep it to themselves.

“Is she down there?”

“False alarm! Just some kids trying to get it on.” She couldn’t help her little squeak of indignation. Minato squeezed her a little tighter to remind her to keep quiet, though the slight shakes of his shoulders delivered him a swift pinch to his side. She reveled in the small twitch he made.

“Everyone split up! She’s only one girl! She couldn’t have gone far!” They could hear the running steps of the man retreating, leaving both of them alone in the alley once again.

And leaving her to her growing anxiety.

He started to loosen his grip when she started to wiggle in his arms as she also started to curse herself in her head. ‘Of all the people I could’ve ran into…”

“What are you doing here, Yukari?” Those same blank eyes she remembers back from high school were staring at her now with an intensity that made her want to look away but the underlying concern kept her eyes on him. They made her want to spill to him everything that has happened to her for the last three years but something tied her tongue.

“I was just running a few errands.” Even she wouldn’t believe that lie with how small her voice sounded.

His eyes shifted from hers to the pink satchel hanging from her arm. “Does that errand have something to do with whatever’s in that satchel?”

She unconsciously tugged the satchel closer to her side under his scrutiny. Of all the people she didn’t want to find out her ‘side job’ Makoto was the very last. She could’ve handled Akihiko’s rage-filled speech. She could’ve taken the pitied looks from Fuuka. She could’ve taken Aigis’ barrage of actually insightful advice. Hell; she could’ve even gone through one of Mitsuru’s frosty ‘executions’.

She couldn’t handle the gentle edging and complete understanding that was Minato Arisato. She couldn’t, can’t, face him. So she did the next thing she could think of.

“I’m sorry.”

She ran. She could hear him yell her name as she ran around the alleyway’s corner.

Old Man Shu is a well-known salesman and buyer in the undergrounds of Shibuya. She always goes to Shu with her take-aways. After running the shop for years, he has an impeccable eye for cash and worth. The old man could be stubborn as a battle axe when it came to money though. Nothing a little bargaining can’t fix.

“30,000.”

“What! This thing costs at least 100 times that!”

“It does, when it's brought to a certified pawnbroker and when the item isn’t stolen.”

“Come on, Shu. I’ve seen you buy shitter items for far more than 30,000.”

“30,000. Nothing more nothing less.”

“Seriously!”

Old Man Shu opened his mouth to say something when the bell above the door rang. He left her alone in her frustrations to see who opened the door. The grin that sprouted immediately left Yukari confused. She's never seen Shu smile a day since she's started coming here.

“Arisato-san! I haven’t seen you around here in a while.” Yukari whipped her head to the door to see the familiar shag of blue hair and slouched over-stance that was Minato Arisato. He had ditched the jacket this time - or rather she guesses it less that he ditched it and more that she hasn’t given it back yet - and was sporting a khaki turtleneck and black pants, very similar to what he wore during the cold days at Gekkoukan High.

“Yeah. It’s been a long time, Ushio-san.” His grin back at the mid-aged man confused her even more.

“Ushio-san?”

“I used to help Ushio-san sometimes around the shop during our third year at Gekkou.”

It made sense. During their third year at Gekkou High, Makoto had been more active than the year prior. He never stayed in one place for too long. He woke up early in the morning and was at school before anyone, even Akihiko and Mitsuru. And once classes were over he’d be gone before anyone could stop him and wouldn’t be back until way past curfew except on the days he fell asleep during class; though Aigis, who had appointed herself as his personal protector, had always watched him intently in that robotic, unblinking way of hers.

Everyone had started getting worried and had had enough when he almost fainted upon coming into the dorm one night, Mitsuru had put her foot down and condemned him to his room for the next two days. He wasn’t too happy about it, but he wasn’t suicidal enough to argue with Mitsuru, especially when he knew she only meant well.

With him being confined to his room, she was able to see him more often. For those two days, even though she couldn’t walk to school with him she was able to see him before she left and spend time with him after she came back.

She might be a little full of herself by saying those moments he spent with her were the only moments he didn’t complain about his two-day lockdown.

But even while she spent the day in his room, her sitting on his bed reading a magazine and him playing a game at his computer or both of them forgoing the bed and just sitting on pillows on the floor with his head resting on her lap as one of his earbuds in her ear and they just relaxed and vibed to the music, he was still restless.

“Huh. I never knew. You never really told us what you were up to back then.”

Minato had the decency to look apologetic as even he remembers his frantic behavior the last year before graduation.

Shu, or Ushio, looked between the two young adults standing in the middle of his shop. One of which he’s known for years, and the other he’s known for two. It may have been a while since he’s been in a serious relationship, but even he could feel the tension between the two. “You two know each other?”

Minato answered him. “We went to highschool together.” He said nothing more and he expected nothing less from the teenage boy he met back when, though he’d hoped that the years could’ve taught him to open up a little more. The pawnbroker guessed that was just his character.

But during those years of having him help around the shop, Shu learned that most of what the boy wouldn’t say, spoke volumes though his body language, and with that one sentence and that interaction when he came in, he didn’t need to hear anymore.

He patted his hand on the counter. “Wait right here.” The bulky man walked away from the counter into another room behind him.

“This is pretty stalkerish of you, you know.” This was too soon of a meeting to call it a coincidence.

“We never got to talk.” He answered. “You ran away so fast. I was worried.”

“You could’ve called…”

Minato raised his eyebrow and fished his phone out of his pocket to raise it up to her face. “Your phone is disconnected.”

Oh. She knew there was still a bill she needed to pay.

Old Man Shuu (Ushio?) walked out of the back room. He was holding a white envelope in his hand as he walked up to the register and held his other hand out. “Let me see that trinket.”

Yukari passed the necklace back over the counter into Shu’s open palm. He pulled that hand back to place the envelope in hers. She stared flabbergasted at the envelope. Clutching it in her hand, she could tell there was a lot of money inside of it.

“Maybe that little trinket was worth more after all.”

“Arigato, Ushio-san,” Minato thanked him.

“Ahh, whatever. Now both of ya out.” Yukari was too stunned to do anything but she was slightly aware as Minato grabbed her other hand and started to guide her to the door. She stepped through the door but before Minato could follow her out, Shu stopped him with a firm grab of his shoulder. “Hey. You visit more often.”

Minato nodded, that small smile of his making a reappearance. “Understood.”

Neither of them spoke a word after they left the small out-of-the-way pawn shop. The air between them was heavy and somehow the space between them felt even further than the night of graduation.

Now that she actually looks at him, he looks different. She sneaked a side glance at him. Even in the dark of night with no moon in the sky, the glowing street lights and neon advertisements and the absence of his jacket allowed her to see his face clearly.

His hair had grown longer, the blue strains wisping at his shoulders now. He's gotten taller too. He was already half an inch taller, now it seemed like she had to strain her neck a little more just to meet his eyes. He’s filled out more too. The years have been good for him, the lean and lanky build he had in high school now sculptured with muscles obvious even under his turtleneck.

Her mind immediately went back to the other night when those muscles were pressed against her so intently that she could feel every crease and-

“I didn’t know you moved to Shibuya,” Minato said.

‘Mitsuru must've given him my address.’ “Uh, yeah. Most of my modeling gigs are here or somewhere close, so I just got an apartment here.”

“Isn’t it really expensive? I know it cost at least three times as much as it would in Port Island.”

Huh? “Yeah, but the modeling gigs help pay most of it out.”

“And your second job helps you pay the rest?"

Yukari stopped walking. Minato stopped a few paces ahead after he realized she had stopped. He didn't turn around to face her though.

"What are you trying to say, Makoto?"

“That night I saw you in the alleyway. They said a special artifact was stolen from the museum. The assailant was female and holding a pink bow.” He turned to shoot her a knowing look for the last sentence.

“I…got into a situation.” No point in hiding it anymore.

“You could've asked Mitsuru for help?”

“No way I could’ve asked Mitsuru-senpai for help.”

“But stealing is better than asking for help from your friends?” His voice raised slightly from his normal monotone. Minato rarely raised his voice when they were in high school. Even when someone pissed him off the worst he did was glare. She was surprised.

But this was exactly why she didn't want anyone to find out.

"Why are you so concerned about me anyway? You left!" She stepped closer to him now, getting right in his face, her finger jabbing his chest. "No calls." Again. "No messages." Again. "Not even any letters!" Again. "What gives you any right to care about me now!"

He stopped her hand at the next jab, holding her hand against his chest. His eyes were intense as he stared into hers. She always loved his eyes. Everytime she stared into them it felt like he was sharing his very soul.

Only with her.

"I've always cared about you, Yukari. I love you. No amount of distance or radio silence ever changed that. And leaving you, I didn't have any choice. That last year before graduation, I was doing everything I could to find a way to stay with everyone, with you."

There were very rare moments when Minato would say more than just a few words, but it’s funny how each time he did, they would take her breath away.

She pulled away.

“I-I have to go, Minato.” She needed to get far away from here, maybe leave town. She heard there was a new exhibit opening somewhere in Hokkaido.

"Wait." He pulled back her arm again, something he seemed fond of doing now. She didn't spin back into his arms this time. His hand trailed down to hers and she felt him press a folded piece of paper in her hand before he let go.

"My address. You're always welcome."

Her fist closed around the folded paper.

"Goodbye Minato." She walked past him, not looking back even once.

But she slipped the note in the envelope when she was sure she was out of his sight

#persona 3 #p3 #shuyuka #minato x yukari #minato arisato and yukari takeba #makoto x yukari #makoto yuki and yukari takeba #fanfiction #writing #fanfic

8 notes · View notes

queenclaudiabrown · 5 months

Text

Living Legend | Chapter Four: Questions and Answers

Content warnings: canon events within the media covered in this chapter, uncensored cussing, canon triggers of all media covered and referenced Media: Moon Knight Season 1 Episode 2 “Summon The Suit”; reference to Primeval Series 3 Episode 1 Word count: 6,939

Sarah woke up sore and stiff in her bed the next morning, in the exact same position she’d fallen asleep in. After crying her eyes dry, she’d taken the briefest of cursory showers and gone straight to bed.

She pried herself off the mattress and made a light breakfast, still queasy from the night before. After forcing it down, she applied enough makeup to mask her exhaustion and dressed in a white blouse, knit vest, jeans, boots, and her beloved caramel leather jacket. Her feet felt like lead as she biked away from her flat.

She was late arriving at the museum, and strangely enough she felt that she didn’t care. Black and yellow striped tape blocked off the Egyptian section- and the destroyed loo- from public access. Feigning ignorance, she strolled as nonchalantly as possible up to one of the security guards- mercifully, not the same one that had helped Arthur Harrow corner Steven yesterday. “What happened? Was there a robbery?”

“We’re not sure yet.” He told her. “One of the toilets got pretty wrecked- some pipes burst and it was really bloody bad, or so I’m told. But a bunch of the Egypt exhibit is screwed up too- like somebody ran around shoving things over or something. And the hallway between it and the toilet is a mess too, racks knocked over and stuff.”

“Weird.” Said Sarah with false casualness. “Hope they find out what happened.” She quickly moved away, turning her head as she scanned for Steven/the mummy dude or Harrow. To her relief, she spotted the former across the way, and they hurried toward each other.

He threw his arms around her immediately. “Thank God you’re okay.” He said, voice muffled. “I woke up alone in my flat and I didn’t know if you’d made it out alright.”

Okay, so Steven definitely wasn’t secretly a superpowered American with a magic mummy suit and glowing eyes. “I’m fine. I met him- the other bloke. He saved us and sent me home.”

He pulled back and nodded, then scanned her with his eyes. “Are you hurt? Did anything happen?”

She shook her head. “Scratches at the worst. He took care of the jackal pretty quickly. I sort of just… hid under the sink.” She averted her gaze, directing it to her hands as she picked at a hangnail. “I hope it’s not cowardly to say that. I didn’t have anything to defend myself with, and I thought that if I tried to fight it I could get torn into pieces by a monster I can't see.”

“It’s not cowardly, Sarah. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t try to fight it. If you had died- if you’d been killed by something sent after me- Sarah, I never would’ve forgiven myself.”

Her eyes watered. “It wouldn’t have been your fault, Steven, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Worry flooded his face again. “Sarah, I watched the security tape. The jackal’s not on it. It’s just us running around looking like bloody lunatics. And then there’s me carrying you out, but I’ve got this really mean look on my face.”

“He insisted on carrying me so I wouldn’t get in trouble for wrecking the toilet.” Sarah revealed. “I mean, I couldn’t see the jackal, so I guess it makes sense that the cameras couldn’t either. But why could you? And why could he- whoever he is- see it and kill it so easily? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately I haven’t got a bloody clue myself either. Just ’cause I could see the bloody thing doesn’t mean I know why I could, or what it was.”

“But we know who sent it.” Sarah reminded darkly. “Arthur fucking Harrow. Whatever shit he’s spreading about his and/or Ammit’s version of a good person is exactly that- shit. A good person wouldn’t unleash an invisible magic hell jackal on two innocent people who may or may not have a random scarab. Not that I want to talk to him personally, or have him be anywhere near you again, but he could’ve asked in person for us to hand it over. Instead he went straight to murder.”

“It did seem like a bit much.” Steven agreed in his Steven way.

At that moment, another one of the security guards- Kat, Sarah thought her name was- approached them and informed them that the museum director wanted to see them both in his office. She wished them luck before dashing off to stop a human tower of unattended small children from scaling a display.

A haze of stress and memory descended on Sarah, and she walked and sat robotically. She didn’t snap back into the present until the museum director set two plain white mugs of steaming coffee on his desk. “I should tell you the museum has no wish to press charges.”

“Okay.” Steven replied jitterily, quickly taking a mug. After a moment, he offered it to Sarah, who took it with a tiny twitching smile of gratitude. He returned it, taking the other cup for himself.

“But, Mr. Grant, Ms. Page-”

“-‘Doctor Page’-” she corrected lowly, a habit she’d formed over the years since receiving the title. For a moment, she remembered when she had corrected Lester upon their first meeting, but shook her head to banish it.

“-Dr. Page,” the man corrected himself annoyedly, “we’ve spoken to your colleagues.”

“Yeah?” Steven’s nerves were almost tangible, infecting Sarah with a stress more heightened than the one already threatening to empty her stomach.

“It’s all been a bit of a struggle for you recently, hey, Mr. Grant?” The man continued, sitting down into his chair. Sarah wasn’t even the one he was speaking to, but her jaw clenched at the painfully ‘sympathetic’ tone of his voice.

Steven didn’t seem to notice how truly condescending it was, dropping his head with something akin to a sigh. “Yeah.” He admitted, sounding ashamed and close to tears. Sarah wanted to throttle the man behind the desk. “A bit, a bit.”

“This particular group of doctors has a long-standing relationship with us.” She man continued, and Sarah drew in a deep breath and let it out through her nose to calm herself. It didn’t work, so she obnoxiously slurped her coffee instead, glaring at him over the rim. The beverage tasted awful- the creamer was probably either gone off or some artificial non-dairy substitute, and there was next to no sugar in it. The roast itself tasted cheap and almost stale.

“Doctors?” Steven questioned. The man slid a pamphlet across the glass top of the desk, and Steven nodded as he understood. “Oh.” He reached out and picked it up.

“They’re wonderful.” The man continued.

“Yeah?” Steven’s voice was timid but hopeful, and Sarah’s murderous desires surged. He didn’t deserve this.

“I could arrange an appointment.”

“Okay, yeah.” Steven was nodding. “It looks… it actually looks quite posh.” He chuckled. “Looks like they’re very good listeners, right?” He opened up the brochure and showed Sarah one of the artfully-structured ‘inviting’ pictures of an employee supposedly offering advice and a sympathetic ear, then held it up for the man to see.

“They really are.” The man agreed. “I know this is classic HR to say, but… but you’re not alone.”

Sarah was sure the man had good intentions, but his demeanor made her skin crawl. Not in a creepy way, but in that condescending, patronizing way she was so sick of receiving.

“Yeah? That’s like, part of the problem, innit?” Steven took a drink of his coffee as the self-spiteful words left his lips.

“Before you leave us, I’m sorry for the protocol of it, but… any museum property on your person?”

“No, I-I haven’t nicked anything, I swear. I…” He set down his coffee mug to rifle through his pockets, briefly producing a small folding mobile and a square-tagged key before tucking them away again. “No, nothing.”

The man cleared his throat and indicated, and Steven looked down at his nametag on the left breast pocket of his jacket. “Yeah.” Steven forced out after a moment, and Sarah could see how he struggled with losing literally every piece of something he’d worked so hard for and loved so much. He took off the tag, glanced down at it in his hands for a moment, and set it on the desk.

“Thank you, Mr. Grant, that will be all. You, Miss Page, are not being terminated. We’ve reviewed the security footage, and we’ve decided that although you were part of the incident, you weren’t the main culprit of the incident, and therefore you will also not be penalized in any way.”

For a moment, her heart jumped. She loved working Museum, and being in such a familiar place was almost like she hadn’t been torn out of her old life and universe and injected into this one. She could stay, without having to fight for it.

But in the few seconds that she straightened eagerly in her chair, lowering the cup from her lips, she made her decision.

“Actually, I’m quitting.” She declared, eyes hard and cutting as she glared at the man behind the desk. “I don’t want to work in a place that bullies and shames someone into feeling like he’s less than everybody else.” She chugged the rest of her coffee- gross as it was, she was going to need it- and reached up to unclip her own nametag from the white blouse she wore. She slammed it down on the desk, a tiny bitter part of her hoping it left a scratch on the glass top, and shoved to her feet. Linking her arm through a bewildered Steven’s, she marched for the door, tossing one last sharp-tongued remark over her shoulder:

“And it’s Doctor Page.”

Ten minutes later, what little they both owned that had been left at the museum was collected, and they had left the museum for the last time. Sarah was too angry to feel sad about it.

And now they were sitting on the edge of a fountain next to the living statue of a man Steven called Crowley. He was wearing a suit and monocle, pained gold with one arm outstretched. Blue eyes, nearly the same shade as Nick Cutter’s, were the only exterior sign that he was a living human and not an incredibly realistic art piece.

“Well, that’s it. I got the sack. I don’t blame ’em- I’m a vandal, I should’ve been arrested.”

“You’re not a vandal.” Sarah sneered- not at him, at the museum HR, at the chaos and injustice of it all. “You- him- whatever- saved both our lives, killing that… that thing, whatever it was. So what if you smashed up the sinks to do it? They can well afford to repair everything, with how much they make and how little they pay- paid- us.”

“I did- I did find things, hidden in my flat, I swear. I’m not joking.” Steven continued, still worked up over everything. He tilted his head, staring intently at Crowley. “That’s worth exploring, isn’t it? Like if I could find that storage locker, that might be my one chance to prove to myself that I’m not… mad.” His voice had changed, going from frustrated to hopeful. “Oh, mate, thank you.” Abruptly, he leaned forward and hugged Crowley, who startled and blinked at the unexpected physical contact. “Thanks, cheers.” Steven patted him on the back before standing up.

He was striding off before Sarah could blink, and she scrambled to pull a pair of tenners out of her wallet to drop into the gold-painted man’s hat. “Sorry about him, keep up the good work.” She rushed out before hurrying after her friend.

Steven produced the key from his pocket again, staring down at the maroon plastic intently. Reaching his side, Sarah peeked at it around his arm. “Do you recognize the logo?” She asked.

“Hmm? No, I don’t, but I reckon if I walk around enough I’ll find it somewhere. Wonder what the ‘J’ stands for.”

Sarah mentally groaned at the thought of the two of them traversing every street in the greater London area looking for this symbol. That was if it was even in London and not somewhere else. But she didn’t voice those thoughts. “We’ll find it twice as quick if we split up. Let me take a picture of that, and we’ll split up. If I find it, I’ll ring you, yeah?”

“You’d do that for me?” Steven looked at her in wonder, and her heart melted.

“Of course, Steven. You’re my friend.”

Thirty minutes later, Steven rang her, excitedly telling her he’d found the place. She asked him to wait outside, then ran down the sidewalks until she reached the address he’d given her. Soon enough, they were together again, and Sarah controlled her breathing and smoothed her hair as they walked into the building.

It wasn’t the right one, irritatingly, and they tried four more before they had any luck.

“Hiya. You alright?” Steven greeted the receptionist (if that was the word).

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, um, look, man, this is like, the fifth branch we’ve been to.” He began. “I’m looking for my storage locker. It’s under ‘Steven Grant’. If it’s not under ‘Steven Grant’, it might be under ‘Marc’… I don’t have a surname, just ‘Marc’. Would you have a look for me, if that’s alright? I know it sounds-”

“Of course.” The man cut him off, not rudely. “I know you. Number 43, right? I never forget a face.”

Sarah and Steven exchanged looks. “Must be it, then.”

The man led them to #43, down corridors formed from the corrugated steel sides of the surrounding lockers. Fluorescent lights came on overhead noisily as they entered their corresponding sections, bathing them in an odd greenish color. After unlocking and removing the padlock, the man left them, and Steven pulled the door open.

They stepped inside, Sarah finding a lightswitch and flicking it on. The door shut behind them as that same color flooded her vision, the light illuminating the contents of the room. Several rugged-looking plastic storage bins were stacked in places, a few others alone scattered about. A rack of shoes and other items stood beside the door, with what looked like some sort of pop-up clothes rack on another wall, a few shirts and pairs of trousers occupying its bar. A single military or camping cot had been set up, with a pillow on one end and a neatly-folded blanket or two on the other. Becker would’ve been all over it in a second, Sarah was sure.

“Whoa.” Sarah breathed. “Whoever the other bloke in your head is, he’s… blimey, I don’t even know what.”

Steven didn’t reply, slowly walking deeper into the room. He eventually crouched beside the cot, opening the military shoulder bag set atop a couple storage bins next to it. Sarah came up behind him, observing over his shoulder.

“Oh my God.” Steven said upon seeing the topmost of its contents- a shiny silver handgun with a black grip. He picked it up by the end of the grip, looking more weary than wary. He deposited it on the cot, and Sarah eyed it for a moment, wondering why Marc had it. It wasn’t common for Brits to have guns unless they were military or police, but Marc was American- sounded it, anyway.

Steven delved deeper into the bag, producing several thick wads of foreign banknotes belonging to multiple currencies. He let go of them in favor of a passport, opening it to find Steven’s face on the American interior. “‘Marc Spector’.” Sarah read the name attached to the picture. Well, now they had a surname.

Steven sighed and put the passport down. He moved a map out of his way, fishing something out from underneath it. “No way.” He breathed, producing… a golden metal Egyptian scarab? “It’s real, it’s totally real.” He touched it with his other hand, and two small but intricate wings popped out of its sides.

“This is what was in your pocket in the Alps?” Sarah asked, eyes tracing over every line of the object in awe.

Before Steven could answer, the scarab started flying, lifting off of his hand and leaving a small, flat piece behind. Sarah straightened, stepping backward away from it as it largely hovered a few inches above Steven’s palm. “Whoa.” He breathed, slowly getting to his feet. “I’d say you’re a compass, but you’re not pointing north.” He remarked, more or less following it as it moved.

“South, I’d say.” Sarah agreed. “Southeast?”

Abruptly, Steven’s posture changed, and the scarab dropped back into his hand. Sarah frowned. “What is it?”

“Marc?”

She drew in a breath, glancing between Steven and his blurry reflection on one of the room’s walls. “Is he talking to you again?”

Steven nodded. “There he is, here he comes.” He waved at his reflection. “Hello, man in the mirror. I was wondering if you’d pop up again.”

“Me too. I’ve got some questions for him.” Sarah stated, crossing her arms and glaring at the wall.

“A bit, yeah.” Steven replied to something Marc had apparently said. A moment later, he gestured about to room. “No? Well, a bit late for that innit? So what, what- am I, like, meant to be some sort of mad secret agent or something?”

Sarah had seen some strange things in her time… prehistoric creatures mistaken for pagan gods… time portals… monsters from the future… mad scientists… clones. She doubted the truth behind Steven and Marc would be much madder than that.

“More complicated?!” Steven suddenly demanded. “What, am I possessed? Are you like, a- a demon? Or-”

He cut himself off, or maybe Marc did, and Sarah’s eyes flicked between the two versions of her friend- though to her perception his mirrored image was merely that- as she waited for answers with bated breath. After a few moments, Steven glanced over his shoulder at the cot, then looked back at the wall. “Are you joking?” He spluttered. “Sleep- I’m never gonna got to sleep again! You hear me?! Look, I don’t care how bloody handsome you are-” Sarah snorted at the sheer insanity of that comment “-tell me what it is you are. What are you?”

Steven’s voice was rising, and it scared Sarah. Not because he was frightening, but because nothing worked up Steven Grant enough to make him raise his voice, and now his reflection was freaking him out more than literally having his life threatened had seemed to.

“Yes, bloody- yes.” All was silent for a few moments, but the next word out of Steven’s mouth made Sarah’s blood run cold. “Khonshu?” A moment later, he followed it up with “The Egyptian god of the moon?”

“Great, first we’ve got Ammit, now Khonshu as well. Steven, please tell me there’s not a freaky cult of Khonshu out there like Harrow and Ammit’s thing and you- Marc, whatever- are part of it.”

“Oh my God, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Steven suddenly said, turning his back to his reflection. Sarah’s coal-black eyebrows shot up. “Not you, Sarah, him, what he said.”

“Well, what did he say? I’m only getting your half of this bizarre conversation.”

“Erm- well, he says that he’s Khonshu’s Avatar, or something, and he, like, protects the vulnerable and delivers Khonshu’s justice to those that hurt them.” He scoffed, clearly not believing it. “I eat one piece of steak, and then bam, I go bonkers.”

Sarah frowned, considering, as Steven sat down on the cot. She thought back to that awful night six months ago- Marc clad in the grey super-mummy outfit, a metallic crescent moon on his chest matching the one he’d killed the predator with. Marc, or whatever his name really was, carrying her bleeding form to a hospital.

“Wait… Steven, he might have a point.”

“What?! Sarah, you can’t possibly be buying into this- this rubbish.”

“Maybe it’s not rubbish.” She replied, meeting his eyes. “Steven, six months ago, I was living in another universe, and the year 2009. Something awful happened to me- this horrible creature that had to do with my work nearly killed me, and I crawled through a portal and wound up in a bloody alleyway here in London in the middle of night. I was hurt, and it was going to kill me. But then Marc showed up- you know, in the outfit, all mummy-ish and stuff. He saved my life and killed the creature, and he brought me to the hospital. He never told me his name, but his voice- it’s the same voice you were speaking with last night when that suit popped out of nowhere in the loo and you killed the jackal.” Sarah took a breath, struggling to wrap her head around it all. “Mythologically, Khonshu is called upon to protect people from wild animals, or to help heal people and cattle. That night, I was vulnerable, and he saved me and killed that thing with some sort of crescent moon… throwing star… thing. Steven… it makes sense. It all adds up- the mythology, what he just told me, him saving me that night.”

Steven tore his gaze from hers and redirected it to the pistol beside him. “You want my body?” He demanded. “Right, yeah. Marc, how about this for a deal?” He shoved to his feet and grabbed the bag he’d found the scarab and gun in. “I’m gonna take this bag full of illegal shit, yeah, and I’m gonna go straight to the authorities, and I’ll tell them I threatened Sarah into helping me if they go after her, and they’re gonna put me away so I don’t hurt anyone else, and hopefully NHS will fill me with enough pills so that you get out of my head!”

As he had rambled this incredibly ridiculous plan, he zipped up the bag and began backing toward the door, and the overhead lights began flickering again. “Steven!” Sarah called, chasing after him. She paused, then darted back to grab the gun and tuck it into the waistband of her trousers, concealed by her leather jacket. “Steven, stay with me!”

Steven slammed the storage locker door and the flickering stopped. Down the hall from them, a light went out, and then one came on on their opposite side. “Steven, I don’t like this, what if it’s Harrow again?” Sarah worried. “What if there’s another jackal?”

God, she’d do anything for an anomaly to be the problem right now, even if it spat her back into the exact hellhole she’d crawled out of six months ago.

The second light began going on and off rapidly, its speed ominously ever increasing. “Oh God, oh God.” Steven muttered under his breath as the lights began switching on and off as if illuminating something moving rapidly toward them. Suddenly, Steven screamed and bolted in the opposite direction, pulling Sarah after him with a yank on her arm. The lights were flickering and flashing, and all around them the storage lockers were shaking. “Is it another jackal?” Sarah panted out, right on his heels.

“It’s Birdy again!” He replied in terror, confusing her for a moment before she remembered what he’d told her about the looming person with the giant bird skull head in the lift of his flat building. With this new context, Sarah realized that since he was apparently sharing a body with Khonshu’s Avatar (if this story was to be believed, which Sarah was starting to), he was probably seeing Khonshu in some form or other.

They began hooking corners, Steven looking over his shoulder repeatedly and still shouting and screaming. Turning yet another corner, Steven came to an abrupt halt, and Sarah skidded into his back, both of them unbalancing but somehow managing to stay upright. “What?” Sarah hissed. Steven didn’t reply, staring up toward the ceiling in terror. After a moment, she chanced: “Khonshu?”

Steven screamed again as a storage locker’s door banged open behind them, and Sarah grabbed at the collar of his jacket and yanked him backward. Spurred into motion again, Steven took off running once more, and the two finally escaped the maze and came into the brightly-daylit exterior sections of the building that the storage facility shared. Steven careened into the street, tripped and fell, and flung his arms up to shield his head as a motorcyclist screeched to a stop less than a foot away. Sarah stopped at his feet, hurriedly squatting with the intention to get him upright again.

The motorcyclist leaned over and peered down at Steven. “Marc?” She questioned with an American accent. “Where have you been?” Her gaze traveled to Sarah. “And who’s this?”

Steven looked up at the woman cautiously. “Layla?”

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “This is Layla?”

‘Layla’ cocked her head. “Yep. And I still don’t know who you are.”

Sarah opened her mouth to answer, but stopped herself. “We’re kind of being chased right now- second time in twenty-four hours, might I add, getting real sick of this- so if you don’t mind, can we save the introductions and explanations for when we’re not possibly about to die?”

Layla eyed her for a moment, then gave a half-shrug and canted her head. “Alright. But I definitely can’t take you both on this.” She indicated the motorbike she was riding.

Sarah nodded. “Right, well, I can take the bus, since you two seem to know each other.” She wasn’t sure how much Steven and Layla had spoken on what was apparently Marc’s phone, but she knew that they had talked, and Steven knew Layla enough to recognize her. “We’ll meet up at your flat, and I’ll take the bus, yeah?” She pulled Steven to his feet.

“Right, yeah, cheers, I’ll… sounds good.”

Layla thrust a second motorcycle helmet into Steven’s chest, and Sarah nodded her head in a decisive farewell before she turned and sprinted down the street the way Layla had come. As soon as she could, she climbed up onto the outside of a double-decker bus and rode holding its rail until they reached a street near their flats, and from there she walked. Well, jogged.

Sarah got there before Steven and Layla, and she paced nervously for a few minutes before resolving to make herself a cup of tea. Steven wouldn’t mind, and she made a mental note to buy him an extra box of it even though she hadn’t taken the last teabag.

She was sipping the hot beverage and leaning up against his kitchen counter when the door opened, Steven leading Layla through. Seeing Sarah, his nervous expression relaxed slightly. “Oh good, you’re here. You make it alright?”

Sarah nodded. “No trouble on my end. You?” She asked, watching Layla- who she could now see was both really pretty and not white now that the helmet was gone and her eyes had adjusted and they weren’t in a tense situation- as she slowly meandered into the flat.

“No, no, we were good.”

Layla bent down to look at Gus the goldfish, tapping on the glass as she observed him. There was something strangely magnetic about fish- young or old, people loved to stare at them and watch them, in tanks or in the ocean, in real life or in videos or films.

“I just want my life back.” Steven said quietly after a long few moments.

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” Layla remarked acidly, standing straight again.

“No, sorry, I- I wasn’t talking to you, just talking to myself, sort of.” Steven rushed to apologize.

Layla took notice of the bedroom area. “Uh, this is your flat, Marc?”

“Uh, I’m Steven.” He corrected.

She didn’t seem to care. “Are you living here with someone else?” She demanded, piercing him with her gaze that quickly flicked to Sarah. “Her, maybe?”

“‘Her’ has a name, which I’m happy to tell you now.” Sarah responded. “It’s ‘Sarah’, by the way. Doctor Sarah Page. And no, Steven and I aren’t like that- we’re just friends, that all, and until we got sacked this morning we were colleagues.”

“Yeah, no, exactly, Sarah’s right. This is my mum’s flat.” Steven agreed.

“Okay, so you guys are- are talking again?”

Steven made a humming noise of confirmation, surprising Sarah. She didn’t know Mrs. Grant (or ‘Ms.’) had started returning her son’s twice-daily messages.

Layla picked up a book off one of Steven’s many bookcases. “Marceline Desbordes-Valmore?” She questioned, her pronunciation of the French name flawless.

“Yep.” Steven confirmed, then surprised all both women as he began reciting one of the poems in French:

“N’écris pas. Je suis triste, et je voudrais m’éteindre.

Les beaux étés-”

Surprising Steven and Sarah alike, Layla joined in:

“-sans toi, c’est la nuit sans flambeau.”

“Oui, oui.” Steven half-joked. “Yeah, she’s my favorite poet.”

Layla frowned. “Um, no, she’s my favorite.”

Sarah sipped her tea. “Can’t two people have the same favorite poet? My mother and father met trying to grab the same copy of one of Phyllis Wheatley’s Poems.”

“He knows she’s my favorite, and I know he knows that, so it’s stupid for him to act like he doesn’t know that and she’s his.” Layla told Sarah, only slightly clarifying things. She wandered across the flat, gesturing with the book to the heaping piles of Egyptian books on Steven’s desk. “So you’re learning French and hieroglyphics?” She prodded.

“Yeah, well, that’s not that impressive, really. It’s not like hieroglyphs are a whole language.” Steven told her, strolling over to the desk as well. “It’s more like a-”

“-Like an alphabet.” Layla completed shortly.

“Yeah, and… well, you still have to know ancient Egyptian to read it.”

“Sure.”

Steven opened a book and pointed to the text on its page. “For example, like this one here, right?”

“Funeral rites.” Layla cut to the chase.

“You’re Egyptian, aren’t you?” Sarah guessed, drawing their attention to her. “Whether you were born there or not, it’s in your blood, right? I was trying to figure out what your ethnicity could be. Like, my mother’s from India and my father’s from Morocco, even though they both live here in England and I was born here, so I learned Arabic and Hindi from them, but I was fluent in English first. If you’ve got ties to Egypt, it’d make sense for you to know some form of the language.”

Layla eyed Sarah rather critically. After a moment, she spoke. “You know, I thought I wasn’t gonna, but I like you. You’re smart, and you’re not mean about it.” Sarah offered her a small smile, unexpectedly touched by those words. “And I’m just- I’m not buying this, Marc. Use whatever accent you want, yeah, let’s just get this over with.” She strode across the flat and picked up a bag, from which she produced a document envelope. “You sent these papers but you never signed them.”

“Did I? Uh….”

Layla presented them to him matter-of-factly. “This is what you wanted.”

Steven fished in his breast pocket for his glasses. “Have a look here….” He said, taking the papers to read over them.

“After everything, you told me that we needed to move on.” Layla said.

“Alright... divor- divorce?” He looked up at Layla in surprise.

“Yeah, we doing this or not?” She demanded, nodding at the papers.

He glanced back down at the documents. “I would never divorce you.”

Sarah tilted her head as everything clicked into place. “You’re not just angry, you’re hurt. You don’t want to divorce Marc, but you think that he’ll never let you be with him, so you’re going along with it, and you’re not even willing to hear Steven out about him not being Marc.”

Layla shot a look at her, but otherwise ignored her. “What are you doing?” She demanded incredulously of Steven.

He removed his glasses, his face earnest and his voice soft. “Look, you seem absolutely lovely. This Marc, on the other hand, is a right twit, yeah?” He looked over at a small mirror on his wall as Sarah chuckled at the description. He stammered a moment as he looked back at Layla. “I don’t know how to explain what’s been happening. I don’t expect you to believe me; I honestly don’t really believe myself. All I can do is try to- try to show you what I found, yeah.” As he spoke, he went over to the bag he’d taken from Marc’s storage locker, putting the divorce papers down.

Sarah threw back the last of her tea and headed over to them, standing about a meter behind Layla with her arms crossed. “I found this bag in the storage locker.” He continued. “Well, Sarah and I found it.” He opened it, rifling through the monies. “And inside of it is all sorts of things, most interestingly-” He paused abruptly, and Sarah frowned.

“‘Most interestingly’ is what?” Layla pressed.

Steven looked back down at the bag, a myriad of emotions on his face. “Nothing.”

What had Marc said to him to make him stop? Sarah added another bullet point to her ever-growing mental to-do list: smack Marc next time he was controlling Steven’s body.

“Nothing?” Layla repeated disbelievingly.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“What’s in there?” Demanded Layla, going for the bag even as Steven tried to stop her.

“Nothing. Wait, wait-” He was cut off as Layla shoved him aside and delved into the bag. “Bloody hell.”

Layla ceased her search, pulling the golden scarab out of the bag with a combination of betrayal, anger, and wonder on her pretty face. “The scarab pointing to Ammit’s ushabti- what we fought side by side for.”

“No-” Steven tried to interject, but Sarah was still processing the new information Layla had casually blurted out. An ushabti was a small representative figurine used in Ancient Egyptian funeral practices, one of the many items that was put into someone’s tomb. So, apparently Ammit had a tomb and an ushabti- possibly separated from each other, given that Layla had said that the scarab led to the figurine instead of just Ammit’s tomb- and the scarab was indeed a compass of sorts, but drawn to a specific object or location instead of the magnetism of the North Pole. Thirdly, Ammit’s tomb and/or ushabti was likely located somewhere in Egypt, as it was to the southeast- the direction the scarab had floated in- and a reasonable place for a tomb of an Egyptian demon deity to be located.

“This whole one-man show is just- what, so that you can keep it for yourself?” Layla demanded, cutting off Steven and returning Sarah’s attention to her.

“No no no, I swear-” Steven again tried, but Layla wasn’t done yet.

“Why? After all that we’ve been through? No, just stop! Stop! I’m supposed to believe anything you say with this shoved in- what, a gym bag?”

“Take it! Take it, you can have it.” Steven told her, clearly taking the woman by surprise. “Take it, take it, I don’t want it. I swear. Have it.” By his voice, he was close to tears, so very worked up over the stress of the last few days and this massive burden that had descended upon him. “I am not Marc Spector. I’m Steven Grant. I work in a gift shop- well, I used to work in a gift shop- and I think I’m in real danger. Me and Sarah both are, and I think maybe that you might be the only person that can help us. Please.”

At the Egyptologist’s name, Layla looked over at her. “He’s telling the truth, Layla. This Marc bloke’s only been speaking to him for a couple days- through mirrors, apparently- and he somehow got ahold of that scarab, but now there’s this Ammit-worshipping cult creeper guy who set an invisible Egyptian jackal on us last night trying to get it back. Steven could see it, I couldn’t, but it very nearly killed both of us, and then Marc took over his body or something and grew some fancy mummy armor and killed it.”

Layla’s face had softened, the anger draining out of it and giving way to sadness. No- heartbreak. “You really don’t remember why we’ve been looking for this?” She questioned Steven, now sounding like she herself was fighting back tears as she held up the scarab. “Our adventures… or our life together?”

“Oh, God, I wish I could.” Steven told her, and Sarah knew he meant it.

Abruptly, there was knocking on the door. “Steven Grant? Can we have a word?” A feminine voice asked through it.

“See?!” Steven hissed, pointing at it. “Oh, God, they’ve come for me.”

“Why?” Layla queried.

“I vandalized the toilet.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, shaking her head fondly. “You did not. Marc did, when he was killing that bloody jackal thing. Besides, the museum’s not pressing charges, remember?”

The woman knocked again. “Yeah, just a minute.” Steven called.

She knocked more. “Steven Grant?”

“Yeah?”

“DC Fitzgerald and DC Kennedy here.” The woman replied as Layla pocketed the scarab.

“Yeah, one- one second.” He opened the door and peered through the opening. Layla raised a finger to her lips to signal Sarah not to speak. “Hello, officers.”

“Steven Grant?”

He nodded, and Layla made a silent beeline for one of the windows. “I think so, yeah. I mean- yeah, yep, yes. That’s me- 100% Steven Grant.” Sarah shook her head at the absolutely overkill confirmation, then frowned. Why was this woman so insistent about his name? “Sorry, I was just having a bit of a day.” He apologized.

“Mind if we come in, Mr. Grant?”

“Oh, um, actually, right now isn’t-” he looked over his shoulder back into the flat, but his protests were cut off.

“Appreciate it.” A man said, thrusting the door open and strolling in. Sarah narrowed her eyes at his behavior- surely that wasn’t legal.

“Anyone else here with you?” The female DC asked, her eyes lighting on Sarah a moment later.

“Just me.” Sarah smiled. “What seems to be the problem, officers?”

They didn’t answer, both of them walking deeply into the flat, more intrusively than Layla had. “So, um… yeah. Is this about the toilet?” He asked nervously. “’Cause it’s been dealt with, yeah. I’ve been sacked, and uh, yeah, that’s….” he trailed off, seeing the female DC standing by his ringed-with-sand bed, holding the singular ankle restraint. “I have a sleeping disorder.” She dropped it and walked away. “And, yeah, well- the museum said that they, uh, wouldn’t press charges as long as, uh-” The sound of his shower curtain being yanked back cut him off briefly. “-as long as I do it in installments. They- They uh, they said that I could.”

Steven turned abruptly to see the male DC standing quite close to him, holding a small pyramid. “What’s this?”

“It’s a paperweight.” Steven answered.

“Where’d you get it?”

“Paperweight shop.”

The sound of pealing bells reached their ears, and the female DC strode toward the window Layla had been heading for- and apparently snuck out of, since she was missing and the window was open. Sarah cursed her failure to notice that.

“You’re in possession of a stolen item.” The man told Steven as he sat down.

“Oh, yeah… no, I don’t have it.” He told him as the DC went into the bag the scarab had been in. Sarah subtly tugged her jeans higher up on her hips and the back of her jacket further down to better conceal the gun that had also been in that bag. Without him being able to produce a legitimate firearms license, he’d’ve gotten into a world of trouble for having it in the flat. “I don’t, no. It’s not here.”

The male DC took Marc’s passport out of the bag, and Sarah sucked in a breath quietly. “‘Marc Spector’?” He read, and Sarah finally realized something very suspicious about him- he was American.

So were Marc and Layla. And Arthur Harrow.

And this American DC, who clearly held no regard for at least some laws (Danny had been very emphatic in teaching the team their rights in case they ever had trouble with police, whether it was anomaly-related or not), was very intently searching for something. Sarah was willing to bet it was the scarab, and that these coppers weren’t actually coppers, but cultists of Ammit. She casually put one hand on her hip, readying it to whip out the pistol.

“That’s not mine.” Steven told the man.

“Funny that.” He sneered, sauntering up to Steven and lowering himself to Steven’s height, holding the passport up and open. “Fella looks just like you.”

“Twin brother adopted at birth.” Sarah deadpanned.

“Fake passport and a thief?” The woman said, and Sarah felt the pit of dread in her stomach worsen as she realized where this was going. The man clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I think you best come with us, son.”

“And her.” The man jutted his chin indicatively at Sarah. “Aiding and abetting, accessory after the fact.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, not even bothering to defend herself. Both fake cops- she was sure of it now- produced handcuffs, and when Steven tried to back away, the man shoved him down face-first on the floor and cuffed his hands behind his back. Fearing the gun would be discovered, Sarah presented her hands to the woman with a calm façade. They were ‘escorted’ to the car and put into the backseat without so much as a mention of their rights. Steven seemed too upset and distressed to notice that error in their disguises.

One of Sarah’s lines is a slight variation of one of Amy Pond’s lines from Doctor Who, specifically “Vincent and The Doctor”.

#primeval #moon knight #sarah page #steven grant #layla el-faouly #khonshu #the british museum #queenclaudiabrown

0 notes

naman19rawat · 2 years

Text

Guide to Visiting Alcatraz in San Francisco

The most infamous former maximum-security jail in America is located in San Francisco Bay. The old federal prison, which housed America's most notorious inmates such as Al Capone and Machine Gun Kelly, was deactivated in 1963 and is now a public museum.

Have you ever wondered what Alcatraz Island is like after seeing the iconic movie "Escape from Alcatraz" or after watching one too many documentaries?

A visit to Alcatraz Island should be at the top of your to-do list while in San Francisco, even if it isn't your average gorgeous holiday site. The famed Alcatraz is worth a visit solely for its history, even if it lacks the natural beauty of some of the other islands.

Alcatraz provides magnificent views of the city and the Golden Gate Bridge on clear days. You may save time and money by purchasing Alcatraz tickets in advance and online. A day tour, a night tour, or even a combination tour of Alcatraz and Angel Island are available.

Here are a few things you should know before visiting Alcatraz in San Francisco.

The late afternoon and evening tours are slightly more expensive than the day tours and may sell out sooner. Some ranger-led excursions or access to portions of the island that are closed during the day may be available in the evenings.

Many visitors prefer the evening tours because they are more picturesque and the tours offer views of the sun sinking over the bay and Golden Gate bridge. If you time it correctly, the lighthouse end of the cellblock on the western side of the island affords a great sunset vantage point for that perfect photo.

Because the weather on Alcatraz is unpredictable and susceptible to change at any time, dress in layers. To properly explore the steep and rocky island, bring a light jacket or sweater and comfortable shoes.

Alcatraz Island is only accessible via ferry. Alcatraz Cruises is the firm that now operates the boat. Pier 33 is where they run all of their ferries. Pier 33 is near Pier 39 and Fisherman's Wharf on Embarcadero Street. Piers with odd numbers are north of Pier 1 and those with even numbers are south of Pier 1.

The time on your ticket is the time the ferry departs from the Pier, therefore arrive no later than 20 to 25 minutes before departure. At Alcatraz Landing, a sign indicates which ferry is currently boarding.

You will discover different places open depending on the time of year you come. You can visit the lighthouse at any time of year to take photographs.

While on the island, food and drinks are not available for purchase. You may buy snacks and drinks for a reasonable price on the ferry, and you can even bring food onto the island for a picnic. Large suitcases, hampers, iceboxes, and other similar items are prohibited, and there are no lockers on the island or at Pier 33.

A free audio tour is included in the entrance fee. When you enter the lower door of the cellblock, you will be given audio players and headphones. The audio tour takes you on a set route around the main cell block, with ex-guards and convicts providing narration. It's extensive, providing detailed insights into the lives of both staff and convicts on the island, as well as the more infamous escape attempts.

There are no loan wheelchairs available on the island. If a visitor is physically challenged, the island offers golf carts available to transport those with limited mobility from the dock to the hilltop cellblock; however, these are in limited supply, so they have to let the ranger staff know as soon as you get on the island if you need mobility help.

#Alcatraz Island

0 notes

majestyeverlasting · 3 years

Note

Could you do prompts 43 and 47 with fatws!bucky x reader? Thank you 😊

♡ Sure! Thank you for sending this request in, I appreciate your patience! These are quite the compatible prompts, and I tried my best to approach them in the most unique way I could manage. To give a summary as to what happens: Bucky and the reader attend a banquet in Washington D.C., but it isn't until afterwards that things take a peculiar turn as the result of a forgotten tube of lipstick. There's lots of cute moments and a little bit of a scare (but that's nothing a nice soak won't be able to ease away). Enjoy!

♡ Prompt 43: "Let me help you."

♡ Prompt 47: "Please let me take care of you, you’re bleeding.”

Remember the Good Parts

All around, there was dancing, talking, and laughter. Formality had been abandoned so that inhibitions could be released. The banquet hall of the hotel seemed elegant enough to have been fit for kings and queens. The paneling of the walls were trimmed with gold and each of the round tables were dressed in white cloth, floral centerpieces sitting in the middle. Hanging above it all were the most beautiful chandeliers. The crystals adorning them sparkled as if they were stars stolen from the night sky.

The invitation had been addressed to both you, and Bucky. Upon opening it, you learned that The Smithsonian Institute wanted to express their gratitude to the donors and sponsors who had shown continued support over the years. Especially in light of the new exhibits coming to the National Air and Space Museum. The evening itself was intended to be a time of meaningful dialogue and celebration.

The two of you didn’t hesitate to RSVP. Not only would it make for a well-deserved weekend trip, but was an opportunity to venture back to D.C. after being away from quite some time.

What came as a pleasant surprise that night was the moment in which you managed to coax Bucky up to dance. Not one word of protest escaped him as you led the way to where others had congregated and were moving to the rhythm of the music. A more relaxed song had started flowing throughout the room as the festivities were drawing closer to an end. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled when he placed his hands on your waist, squeezing gently.

“This has been nice,” he said.

You nodded. “It has.”

Part of you still hadn’t gotten over the way he’d cleaned up for the occasion. The dark strands of his hair were getting longer, and he’d gelled them back lightly. And the all black suit he wore made his blue eyes appear even bolder. After the two of you had been swaying for a while, you spoke again, “You know what I think?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to your lips. You wore a rich, burgundy lipstick that complemented your dress and complexion. “What?” He encouraged.

“We ought to take a nice, warm bath when we get back up to our suite,” you thought aloud. “The tub is worlds bigger than the one we have at home.” Your fingers had begun to gently scratch at the nape of his neck.

He hummed. “That already sounds like a dream.” Then he leaned in to kiss you. It was short and as tender as the music in the air.

The event eventually did wind to its end. A Smithsonian spokesperson went to the main podium and made closing remarks about the importance of living in a way worthy of being remembered. It earned her a hearty round of applause and a few high-pitched whistles. Minutes later, attendees were filing out of the hall in a steady flow, some turning around to capture a final picture of the grandeur space. You and Bucky left right along with them, arms locked.

Nobody else was in the hallway when the two of you exited the elevator onto your floor. It was a long, empty stretch lined with warm lights. Taking advantage of that, you paced a few steps ahead of him and did a twirl as you walked—in a sleek pair of block heels, no less. The bottom of your dress caught the air in a graceful flow. When you looked back at him over your shoulder, he was shaking his head but his eyes were filled with adoration.

The first thing you did upon entering the suiet was go sit on the bed to take your shoes off. But Bucky spoke up, “Let me help you, pretty girl.” So one at a time, you raised your legs for him and watched the careful way he unbuckled your heels.

You smiled when he finished. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

That’s when you noticed the faint hint of pigment that your lipstick had left behind on him. “Hey, lean in for a second, Buck.” He obliged without question. You were still sitting on the edge of the bed. “There’s some…” You ran your thumb over his lower lip a few times.

“Lipstick?” He finished.

“Yeah—I got most of it off,” you said.

“It's a nice shade on you, by the way,” he said. "Very classy."

“Isn't it? I bought it a few days ago.” You dug into your purse in search of the tube, but it was gone. “Uh-oh.”

Bucky had begun to take off his suit jacket. “What?”

“I think I set it on the table just before we left the banquet... When I was looking for the card to our room.” A huff of air passed through your lips. “It’s probably been thrown away by now.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Not necessarily,” he said as he walked to hang up the jacket. “I can run back down and see.”

“Do you mind?”

“It’s no trouble,” he assured. “I’ll be right back. And then we can get to that bath you proposed earlier.” The wink he shot you on the way out made you bite back a smile.

I'll be right back, you replayed his words. But it came to the point when he'd been gone longer than what seemed necessary. That prompted you to peek your head out the door. All you were met with was the same long hallway, but with three strangers strolling down it. More time passed, and you found yourself on the bed again, preparing to call him.

A gentle knock on the door broke the stillness.

Bucky stood on the other side, a slender cut running across his left cheek a short ways beneath his eye. It wasn’t too bad, but blood had been drawn nonetheless. Before you could make an exclamation capable of disturbing the other guests, he slipped past you to get into the suite. It wasn’t until the door was closed that you attempted to vocalize the mix of concern and confusion swirling within your mind.

“Bucky!” Your eyes followed him.

“M'fine, doll,” he insisted.

“What in the world happened?” His slight frustration was evident in the way he resumed undressing as if nothing had occurred. “Hold on, baby, wait. Seriously.”

Bucky froze and looked directly into your eyes. You decided to use an even softer tone. “Just… Please let me take care of you, you’re bleeding.” You hoped your gaze was conveying your sincerity. On your way to move closer to him, you grabbed a couple tissues and folded them. A soft exhale left him when you pressed them to the cut, gently applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Neither of you spoke for a while.

Finally, he said, “Two guys brought an outside scuffle into the lobby. Nobody else was stepping in to break it up so I did.”

You lowered the tissues from his face. Due to the accelerated healing rate of his body and the size of the wound, the bleeding had already begun to subside. “And you got cut in the process?”

He nodded. “One of them had something sharp. Didn't really catch what it was,” he recounted. “And I didn’t wanna hurt them, so I couldn’t just flat-out tear them apart from each other.” His voice was low as he continued to speak. “But I was able to get 'em to stop. Some security guards showed up after the fact.”

You shook your head, briefly stepping away to dispose of the tissues. “I wonder why they were fighting in the first place.”

Bucky moved to sit on the bed, shrugging. “I don’t know, but it turns out they know each other pretty well. Apparently they’d just come back from a bar.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

With a small smile on your face, you went to go stand between his legs, looking down at his handsome features. The red cut stood out. "I'm glad it wasn't worse. Are you gonna need Band-Aid or something?"

He chuckled. "I'll live—check this out, though." he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out your lipstick. "Mission accomplished."

"My hero," you teased as you took it from him. There was a comfortable silence for a few beats. "What a night, huh?"

Bucky ran his hands over your hips. "I say we seal it with a good soak and only remember the good parts."

A laugh bubbled up out of you. "Deal," you agreed, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Thanks for reading! Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #winter soldier #tfaws bucky #fatws bucky #marvel #marvel fic #tfaws fic

221 notes · View notes