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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Reckless (Bianca & Adore) - Candy Cane

A/N: im living in 2015 right now so like. ignore me fsdfsdf but anyways, here’s 2.8k of more incredibly self-indulgent fanfiction. i wrote this as platonic, but if you wanna see anything in here as romantic be my guest!! id like to thank chaoticnachokitten for supporting me and giving me ideas and beta'ing and i just- GAAAHH THANK YOU!! and thanks to everyone else who had such nice words to say abt my last one, it means soooo much 🥺🥺🥺

Summary: Adore and Bianca hang out, but of course things go wrong.

Adore loves hanging out with Bianca. Not only is she her best friend, but she’s the kind of person Adore thought would’ve hated her. But that’s not the case at all, there’s some sort of weird mutual respect and admiration going on between them, and it is fucking awesome.

The young musician knows she can be… a lot sometimes, what with her natural hyperactive toddler personality type, and it amazes her Bianca puts up with her. Especially in moments where Adore knows she shouldn’t be bothering her friend, but decides to anyways because Bianca can be boring sometimes. Moments like this one.

Adore had a gig at one of the clubs, and it ran much later than she had originally anticipated, but that was mostly due to her wanting to stay for Bianca’s set too. Of course, that led to them sharing a few too many drinks together while they stayed to watch some more performers. So when it came time for them to go home, Adore can’t find her keys.

It’s late. Late enough there’s no guarantee Adore’s roommates will be up to let her back into the apartment. The singer immediately turns to her oldest, nearest, dearest friend.

“Oh my God,” Bianca sighs whilst massaging her temples, seeing the next ten hours play out clear as day in front of her.

“Pleaaase can I stay at your place tonight Bia?” Adore asks, using her most pitiful voice and absolute poutiest facial expression.

They’re sat at a table in the back, Adore’s hands perched on Bianca’s knees as she essentially begs. Adore’s too drunk to care.

“Why don’t you call someone to see if they’ll stay up for you?” Bianca retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. To be fair, it probably is. Adore’s still too drunk to realize that though.

“Oh yeah,” she says, knowing she sounds like the world’s dumbest bitch. She fumbles with her phone for a few seconds, poking the screen and the on button for an embarrassing amount of time before turning to Bianca with another sad pouty face, “It’s dead.”

“Of course it’s fucking dead,” Bianca groans, playing it up like she really does mind Adore staying with her for the night. She doesn’t, she probably would never. Adore is like the niece she never had, and she wouldn’t trade that girl for the world.

“Why don’t I just call one of them on mine?” Bianca offers.

Adobe frowns, putting on her thinking face, “…I don’t remember their numbers.”

“I can call Courtney,” Bianca reminds her.

“Oh yeah!”

A few minutes later, they discover they cannot call Courtney. They try calling her twice, and both times are a bust.

She glances down at Adore, and chuckles when she sees the “Bambi eyes”. Even if she weren’t planning on letting the kid stay with her, that would’ve done her in. She hasn’t met a single person that can resist those eyes.

“I’ll be quiet! I promise!” the singer whines.

Bianca makes an exaggerated show of sighing and hemming and hawing, just to tease Adore, then cracks open a wide, amused smile, “Of course you can stay at my place, bitch.”

“Party!” Adore cheers, throwing her arms tightly around Bianca’s neck. It’s all the thanks Bianca needs.

They pay their bills, order a Lyft, and in more time than either would’ve preferred, they make it to Bianca’s huge ass apartment. The pair stumbles inside the building, trying to look as Not Drunk as they can, and failing miserably. It doesn’t matter anyways, it’s almost 3 a.m. meaning there’s not a soul alive there to watch them.

Bianca leads Adore to the elevator, even if it’s pointless because Adore randomly shows up at Bianca’s place at least three times a week. The singer grips Bianca’s hand tightly, giggling and stumbling while the comic practically barks at her to be quieter. They’re lucky it’s a Friday. Well, a Saturday now, Bianca supposes.

The pair climbs up the one flight of stairs to Bianca’s apartment, and then into the apartment itself after Bianca spends a couple minutes fumbling with her keys. The door swings open, and they both fall onto the nearest couch.

They’re breathless with laughter, and then it starts up again when Bianca realizes she hasn’t closed her apartment door yet.

After she locks her apartment back up and turns on some lights, the older woman finds she can’t take her eyes off of Adore. The younger is smiling so freely, and it ignites something inside Bianca. She’s not sure what it is, maybe youthfulness, or freedom, but she loves it.

“B! Oh my God! I have an idea!” Adore suddenly says, sitting up way too fast and clearly making herself dizzy.

“Don’t kill yourself, otherwise I’m the one that has to call 911. You think I want paramedics at my house before the sunrises? Fuck no,” Bianca berates her, but she’s quick to recompose herself when Adore goes all pouty again, “What’s your idea? God knows you only come up with a good one every millennium.”

Adore childishly sticks her tongue out at Bianca, “We should make waffles!”

“How the fuck are we supposed to make waffles? I’m not a cook, I don’t keep that shit in my house.”

Adore screws up her face cutely, clearly trying to think of a solution to her waffle problem. She brightens up again after a minute, looking very proud of herself, “Alyssa! I bet Alyssa has it!”

Bianca rolls her eyes, “You really think I wanna speak to her right now? At three in the goddamn morning?”

“But waffles!” Adore insists.

“Tomorrow,” Bianca promises, “Right now I want to get out of this clown costume and into bed.”

Adore sighs, then tries her best puppy eyes again, “Cuddles?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Bianca snorts. Adore smiles as bright as the sun, then at Bianca’s beckoning she follows her best friend down the hall so they can take off their makeup and get ready for bed. When they’re finally able to snuggle up in bed together, Adore in one of Bianca’s old shirts and pair of leggings, the whole apartment pitch black, and the only sound they could hear was the sound of each other’s breathing.

It’s soothing and warm. They sleep like rocks.

The sun wakes Adore up at way too fucking early though. Her head is pounding, her arm has fallen asleep from Bianca laying on it through the night, and she is really fucking hungry. Adore groans and gently pulls her arm out from under Bianca, then stumbles out of the way too big, way too soft bed to go find something to take care of her headache.

She’s quickly able to find where Bianca keeps those things (the mounted cabinet in the bathroom) because Adore used to spend a ridiculous amount of time at this apartment complaining about her ailments to Bianca, which of course lead Bianca to freely helping Adore out whenever. Bianca would act all cold and exasperated over it, but they both knew it was just a show.

Adore downs two of the pills dry and decides nearly immediately she should go find something to drink. In mere minutes she has a pot of coffee brewing, and simultaneously discovers that it’s only around 9 a.m.. Which is just overall… weird. Adore is almost never up this early, especially after the kind of night she had last night. The events of the night are still pretty fuzzy right now, but she still remembers everything. Mostly. She thinks.

One thing she does remember is a promise. A promise for waffles. Adore grins, an idea formulating in her head. Bianca is always so incredibly nice to her, helping her out and giving her whatever she wants. And sure, it’s not Mother’s Day, but that doesn’t mean Adore can’t show her appreciation for Bianca.

Clearly the woman deserves breakfast in bed. Courtesy of a little help from a next door neighbor (hopefully). The singer quickly grabs Bianca’s key off the counter and heads over to the one person she knows will have just what she wants.

Adore knocks on the door, and it’s only a minute later with an accompanied shout of ‘I’m comin’ hon!’ that the heavy white door is thrown open.

“Oh my goodness it’s Adore Delano!” Alyssa Edwards says excitedly, “Hello, doll!”

“Hi, Alyssa!” Adore smiles, “Um, I have a favor to ask of you?”

~*~

Bianca’s favorite way to wake up is slowly, with the sun streaming in through her bedroom window and having absolutely all the time in the world to get up, check her phone, and get ready for work. This morning is the exact fucking opposite.

First thing that wakes her up is the motherfucking fire alarm, causing her to scramble out of bed at a record speed. Second thing, she’s painfully aware that Adore isn’t in the bed with her. Bianca is halfway through screaming Adore’s name when she bursts out into the main room.

The main room is smokey as all hell. Adore is aiming a fire extinguisher at the counter from the other side of the kitchen. The counter is covered in white foam. Her damn fire alarm won’t shut up.

Bianca’s going to have a hard time explaining this one to the neighbors for sure.

The older woman breathes in slowly, but sharply, “Adore, what the fuck did you do?”

Adore doesn’t say anything. She lets go of the fire extinguisher, and they both wince when it crashes against the kitchen tile. Not for the first time, Bianca is glad that she lives on the first floor.

The two stare at each other, Adore resting boneless against the oven, her expression just screaming shock. She lifts her head to meet Bianca’s eyes.

Pounding on the door, someone starts shouting, “BIANCA?! HOLY GOD, IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?”

The woman in question is quick to open her apartment door, but instead of accepting the concern, she barks out, “What do you want?”

“The whole damn building knows your alarms are going off, Bianca!” Alyssa says sharply, shoving her way inside the apartment, “My girls are coming over in two hours! I can’t have my house burning down on me.” Bianca and Adore share a twin look of surprise. Alyssa’s always been Bianca’s favorite neighbor, that’s no secret, but this is a tightly concealed side of her that neither of them have ever really seen. It’s concern. Worry. But not for herself, for them. Even if it does come off as something else. This is just something not usually associated with her.

“Okay,” Bianca says carefully, “What the fuck is going on.”

“That’s what I want to know,” Alyssa agrees, lips pursed skeptically, “Adore told me y’all were making waffles.” It’s absurd. The fire alarm is still blaring. Adore has crushed herself into a nook, looking petrified. Bianca is very hungover and her most beloved annoying neighbor is standing in her house at way too early o’clock. Bianca suddenly realizes that even though there’s no fire, there’s still smoke in her apartment, and she really wants that alarm to shut the fuck up. Also, the smoke is going to stain her expensive shit if she doesn’t get it out.

She starts to open all the windows in the main room, and is grateful when Alyssa comes to help her. They make short work of it, and when she turns around to look at her best friend, she feels scared.

She’s scared that Adore might be hurt. She’s scared that she didn’t do anything to prevent this. But mostly she’s scared that something might be broken between them.

For the first time since walking in, Bianca notices bowls spread across her kitchen counter. Bowls and boxes and whisks… It clicks.

“Okay,” Bianca exhales, “Alyssa, what the fuck did you just say about waffles?”

“Adore came to me a little while ago and asked me if I could lend you two some waffle ingredients,” Alyssa starts slowly, “And I think to myself, ‘Now Alyssa Edwards, as a woman of God it is your duty to love your neighbor and let her make some waffles on this beautiful morning-’”

“Alyssa, you let my dumbass kid do WHAT?! You fucking know she can’t cook! We have had this conversation a hundred times!”

“Well, Adore said to me ‘Bianca and I’ not ‘I’m going to’! I thought you were gonna be helping her!”

“WHY WOULD YOU ASSUME THAT? WHEN HAVE I EVER COOKED?!”

“I’m sorry!” Adore snaps, her voice quivering and tears welling up in her eyes, causing Bianca and Alyssa to turn to her, “I’m so, so sorry- I didn’t mean for this to happen! I just- I just wanted-”

Bianca stares at Adore with shock, not fully comprehending everything happening. Between her hangover and the sheer chaos of the first fifteen minutes of being awake, she’s not entirely sure why Adore is so distressed. Adore starts whispering ‘I’m sorry’ over and over to herself, hugging her knees tight to her chest, tears starting to crawl down her face, and it hits Bianca like a train.

“Alyssa…” Bianca says slowly, but she’s unable to tear her eyes away from Adore.

Adore’s blaming herself completely and totally. And it makes sense, she is the one that started the whole mess. But Bianca can’t stand that look on Adore’s face. She’d much rather put the blame on Alyssa (who can more than handle it) instead of Adore (who is currently having a nervous breakdown).

But Adore isn’t having it.

“No, this is my fault. I’m not- I’m not that stupid, Bianca. I’m not that useless, either. I’m not a kid. I’m not someone you should leave supervision for. I’m fucking twenty-four. Stop treating me like I’m not,” Adore’s words are cold, but her face tells Bianca the musician is falling apart, “Look me in the eye, Bianca.”

She does.

“Yell at me,” Adore says.

She can’t. Bianca doesn’t even want to. She feels like she failed here, because Adore isn’t her kid but God does it feel like it sometimes.

“We’ll replace your stuff, Alyssa,” is what Bianca says instead.

Luckily, the woman accepts that as her cue to go. She gives Bianca a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she leaves, and sends air kisses Adore’s way. Adore gives Alyssa a weak smile.

The door closes. Bianca and Adore lock eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bianca says. It’s a tired, worried voice. Not at all what Adore was expecting, or even wanted.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Adore answers simply, arms crossed defensively over her chest, “You do so much for me. For everyone. And I know you said last night we’d do it together but I just… I wanted to do something for you.”

That alone melt’s Bianca’s heart. It’s been getting easier and easier lately for Adore, and by extension the rest of their friends, to do that. For a while she thought moving to this city was stupid, and probably the worst decision of her life. But even now, after such a chaotic fucking twenty-five minutes of being awake, Bianca is so happy she’s here.

“Next time, buy me something online,” Bianca says, warm and forgiving, instead of cold and biting like Adore would’ve expected.

The younger practically runs into Bianca’s open arms. The embrace is full of love, and Adore feels that it’s okay. She still blames herself, she’s still stupidly upset, but Bianca… Bianca makes her feel like everything will be okay.

They sit there hugging for a few minutes, then Bianca mutters, “Good thing you knew how to use that extinguisher, I think that’s been hanging there for ten years.”

Adore chuckles wetly, face buried into Bianca’s shoulder, “Yeah… Hey, shouldn’t have all the other alarms gone off too?”

Bianca freezes. Adore is right, all the other fire alarms in the building should’ve had people evacuating.

“I guess the building needs to get that fixed, huh? Maybe you being a walking disaster is a good thing after all, if that had been real, everyone would’ve been fucked.”

“Wow,” Adore whispers, “Maybe our building should get that checked too…? Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“What?!” Bianca asks, pulling away from Adore to see what’s wrong.

“I never went home last night,” Adore says, “I never charged my phone. I never texted my roommates.”

Bianca suddenly doubles over laughing, fully bellied and absolutely batshit crazy, “Good, Courtney doesn’t get nearly enough stress in her life!”

Adore breaks out into a grin, and feels her worries start to melt away. Somehow, Bianca is really fucking good at doing that.

“Alright,” Bianca sighs, looking at the pure mess that is now her kitchen, “Let’s charge our phones and order breakfast.”

And they do.

Neither would’ve spent the hour following that disaster any other way.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #bianca del rio #alyssa edwards #biadore #gen fic #fluff #angst #fighting #lesbian au #cisgirl au #hurt/comfort #reckless #candy cane #tw fire #concrit welcome

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thetriggeredhappy · 4 years

Note

I love your idea of scout bein born early. Would it be too much trouble for you to write abt him bein in the hospital? And maybe possibly spy findin out?

this feels like a slightly different angle than the prompt, anon, but in my defense that’s what always happens

(warnings for alcohol mention, non-graphic injury and briefly being in a hospital)

The phone rang three times before it was picked up, and Scout used all three of those rings to try and get his story straight in his head. Then it was picked up and a familiar and very pleasant voice said “Hey, this is Pauling,” and he wasted exactly zero seconds to start talking.

“Alright so I kinda need some help, Miss P,” he opened with, because frankly those were some cards he knew were gonna end up on the table no matter how he played this.

“What did you do?” she asked immediately, and fuck, she was on to him.

“I—listen, I didn’t even do anything.”

“What did you do?” she asked again.

“...So, okay, promise you won’t be mad.”

“I’m already mad, Scout. What did you do?”

Scout worked hard for about three seconds to figure out a good way to phrase the next few sentences. “...So I was just at this bar, right, and I was minding my own goddamn business—“

“Scout.”

“I was!” he said, a little defensive. “Seriously! And this guy sees me across the bar, and, y’know, figures out I’m one of those guys from the newspaper who keeps causing trouble—“

“Were you in uniform?” she asked dryly.

“Nah, but, uh, Soldier and Cyclops were there, and some of the other guys were there earlier, and Soldier had his stupid helmet on, so, y’know. Bunch of foreigners and some G.I. Joe lookin’ guy, wouldn’t be hard to piece it together. And most of the guys left, and Soldier and Demo walk off, and I’m left alone just finishing my drink before I head out, like ya do.”

“Like you do,” Miss Pauling hesitantly agreed.

“And this guy goes, hey, three dudes is a lot, but I could take this one guy. And he comes up to me, right, all like ‘Hey what’s up I’m a drunk dude who wants to get in a fight like an asshole’ and I’m like ‘Hey nah I’m good actually’ because like, I’m busy and that’s stupid, right?”

“Right,” Miss Pauling agreed. “Really stupid.”

“Right! So I’m like, ‘Hey, fuck off pal’ and he just takes a fuckin’ swing at me, and I’m like ‘Hey actually fuck this I already paid I’m just gonna get outta here’ and I try to leave, but the dude just like—just grabs me by the arm and breaks my fuckin’ wrist, and I knock my whole glass over because holy shit, and a whole fuckin’ brawl kicks off, right—?”

“So long story short you need me to pick you up from jail again,” Miss Pauling cut in, voice laced with heavy exasperation.

“Nah, bartender saw everything and I didn’t get in any trouble. I, uh. I need you to pick me up from the hospital, actually,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as a nurse wheeled a cart by.

“Scout.”

“Look, I would’a just headed back to base, but it was like two in the morning and Medic was probably asleep and the bartender guy was bein’ all nice about it and how am I supposed to tell him I’ve got this crazy German guy who fixes all my bones and shit and don’t gotta go to a real hospital?” he asked, a little defensive. “Then they wouldn’t let me leave unless someone drove me because I’ve got a cast on and can’t drive, and I figured I shouldn’t wake you up or whatever at like four in the morning, so, I ended up taking a nap on a bench, and now it’s like ten so I figured you wouldn’t be mad.”

“Well, I can’t drive you back to base—“

“Aww, what?” he whined.

“—because I’m currently in Japan on business.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s fair,” he admitted.

“But I’ll send someone to pick you up,” she said. “Be ready to go in two hours.”

“Sure thing. Who are you sending?” Scout asked.

“I’ll send Spy,” she replied, and kept talking before Scout could start to complain. “Look, maybe now you’ll learn not to get in bar fights.”

“Miss P, c’mon!” he whined.

“I’m sending him. Two hours,” Miss Pauling said, and hung up on him, at which point he sighed so hard he got looks from two nurses down the hall.

Spy pulled up in his nice shiny car an hour and forty-five minutes later, and gave him a look that immediately made him feel guilty even though it totally wasn’t his fault that he was in this situation. He shifted on his feet for a second before heading over to the car. Silence.

“Wanna sign my cast?” Scout joked.

“Just get in the car.”

He did, deciding that maybe further hilarious commentary wasn’t going to help him out this time. Silence for a second.

He reached for the radio. Spy smacked his hand away. “Put on your seatbelt,” Spy said flatly, and Scout did, although it was a bit of a struggle one-handed, and they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

About thirty seconds of quiet again before Spy broke it. “So you’re a hired mercenary, but one drunk man in a bar can break your arm?” Spy asked.

“Go to hell, Spy,” Scout mumbled.

“I just find it interesting is all,” Spy said, tone light. “That we apparently need to babysit you or else you’ll end up in the morning paper.”

“What?”

Spy reached down between his door and the seat and pulled forth a newspaper, which he promptly tossed into Scout’s lap. “Third page.”

Scout flipped the newspaper open and found that there was indeed an article there. A brawl at the bar, minor property damage, five people arrested and several more fined, two sent to the hospital. He wasn’t mentioned by name, but he did see himself in the background of the picture beside the title.

“You’d think you would have the awareness not to get caught in a... brawl, I believe they called it?” Spy asked.

“Hey, I keep my head on a swivel,” Scout defended, closing the newspaper and tossing it into the backseat. “Everything was fine until Cyclops and Helmet-Head ditched me.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was,” Spy hummed.

Scout frowned. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“No, I’m just certain that you’re giving the full unbiased truth, even though I theoretically have no way of verifying anything you say to me about what happened,” Spy shrugged, eyes on the road.

Scout frowned further. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“No, I’m calling you a bad liar,” Spy said dryly.

“Well it’s true, that’s really what happened,” Scout said, a little offended.

“It doesn’t matter to me either way, I just wanted you to know that you need better cover stories if you want to continue getting away with your usual shenanigans.”

“Whatever, Spy,” Scout scoffed, glaring out the window.

About a minute and a half of complete silence. Scout got bored glancing around his side of the car and spent a good minute just picking at his cast before he realized he probably shouldn’t do that. He ended up reaching for the radio.

“No,” Spy droned.

“Aw, c’mon! Can’t we listen to something?” Scout complained. “It’s like forty minutes until we get back to base.”

“If you didn’t get in a bar fight and break your arm, it would be zero minutes. But you did, and I’m not listening to your terrible taste in music for forty minutes just because you can’t keep yourself out of trouble.”

Scout pouted over that for a minute or two before he thought of a good retort. “...Y’know, technically the guy probably only even jumped me because I was alone,” he said.

“Correct.”

“And I was only alone because you and all the other guys ditched me.”

“Succinct.”

“So this is kinda sorta basically your fault.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change. “...My fault?” he repeated.

“Yeah. If you didn’t ditch me, I wouldn’t have gotten jumped.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change.

“So you should let me turn on the radio.”

“Mon dieu, perhaps you should have been a lawyer,” he deadpanned.

Silence. “...So can I turn on the radio?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Spy said, and Scout leaned over to fiddle with the dial, grinning.

He really didn’t think Spy would put up with the sort of stuff he usually listened to in the car, so he ended up putting on a station with something old enough that Spy probably didn’t hate it. And Spy didn’t turn it off or pull over to dump him on the side of the road, so apparently he picked something alright.

Ten minutes without talking. Scout looked out his window and tried to remember not to pick at his cast. Because he was looking out the window, he pretty easily caught sight of a sign advertising a diner.

He looked over at a Spy. Spy didn’t look back.

“Can we get diner food?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“Tell me you aren’t seriously going to try this game,” Spy said, already looking annoyed. “You’re a grown man.”

“I’m hungry!”

“Then get something to eat at the base,” Spy said.

“I’m hungry and I have a broken arm and I’m gonna have to deal with Medic fixing my broken arm and also all the guys making fun of me. Can we please get diner food?” Scout asked,

Spy paused for a long moment. Scout’s eyes kept flicking between Spy and the upcoming exit. Spy sighed heavily and moved to take the exit. Scout cheered. “I can still change my mind,” Spy threatened. Scout shut up.

Scout double-checked his pockets for his wallet twice before they even pulled into the parking lot. It didn’t look particularly busy, but Spy didn’t pull up near the door anyways. He put the car into park and gave Scout the single most unimpressed look of his life.

“I’m giving you five minutes to order and get back in this car or I’m leaving without you,” he declared.

“Did you want anything?” Scout asked, fumbling with his seatbelt.

“Do I want terrible greasy American diner food?” Spy scoffed.

“Look, just thought I’d fuckin’ ask, alright? Jesus,” Scout mumbled, managing to get his seatbelt off. “And that doesn’t answer my question. Do you want anything?”

“Four minutes and fifty seconds,” Spy drawled, and Scout quickly got out of the car.

There wasn’t anyone in line, and luckily the diner was staffed by the kind of people who didn’t ask questions beyond giving a pointed glance towards his cast. He kept his order simple and kept an eye on the clock on the wall, and bolted back into the parking lot with the paper bag of food in hand wondering if Spy would seriously actually ditch him.

Surprisingly, Spy had left on the radio, and raised an eyebrow at him as he tried his best to bundle himself into the car one-handed. He managed to get his seatbelt on with only a minor scare about almost spilling the food, and promptly started digging through it as Spy pulled them back out of the parking lot.

“Here,” Scout chirped, holding something out to him. Spy frowned, glancing at his mirrors and taking what was being handed to him distractedly. They were out of the parking lot and back on the road by the time Spy actually looked at it.

“What is this?” he asked dryly, looking at the paper-wrapped something.

“Chicken sandwich,” Scout replied, pulling his own food out. “I uh, I think I got ketchup in here too—“

“Why did you get me a sandwich?”

“Why not?” Scout shrugged, unwrapping his burger and glancing it over before taking a bite and frowning. “Aw, man, I wanted cheese on this. Damn.”

“I didn’t ask for anything.”

“I mean, if you don’t want it, I’ll probably eat it.”

“No,” Spy said, and hesitated. He waited until they were at a stoplight before moving to unwrap the sandwich, glancing it over with a critical eye. Scout noticed that he didn’t take it completely out of the paper even when he did move to start eating it, instead using the paper to hold it. Probably worried about grease or something on his dumb gloves. Usually Scout would make fun of him about it, but he was pretty sure he was very close to getting kicked out of the car.

He wolfed down his hamburger (even without cheese) and started getting to work on his french fries, being extra careful due to the fact that he was pretty sure Spy would kill him if he dropped a fry in his nice, fancy, very very clean car.

He could only play it cool for so long once a joke occurred to him, though. He grinned, taking a fry and holding it between two fingers up near his face. “Hey, look, I’m you,” Scout joked, pretending to take a drag.

Spy spared him a glance and promptly rolled his eyes, returning to glaring at the road. “Not even close.”

“Aww, what?” Scout complained.

“First of all, I’m better dressed,” Spy quipped. “Second of all, I’m taller, and third of all, I didn’t get my arm put in a case because of a bar fight. Shall I continue? The list goes on.”

“Well why are you gettin’ personal about it?” Scout asked, bristling. “I was just makin’ a joke, sheesh.”

“How was I meant to know? Usually jokes are funny,” Spy said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Scout didn’t have a good comeback for that, just sinking in his seat and moving to look back out the window.

A good ten minutes of silence again, broken only by the radio and the hum of the car. Scout finished his fries and put his trash back in the bag the way that Spy seemed to be doing, then crossed his arms over himself and just looked out the window at all the nothing. Silence. Road.

Surprisingly, Spy spoke first. “You’ve missed two Volkswagen Beetles,” he noted.

Scout didn’t say anything.

“Usually when we pass one of those you punch me very hard on the arm and I almost crash the car because you’re an idiot.”

Scout sunk further in his seat, but didn’t say anything.

“Am I meant to gather from this that the way to get you to stop doing that is by making you angry with me? Because if so, clearly I’ll need to be much worse to you from now on if I want to keep this vehicle in one piece.”

“Like that’s even possible for you,” Scout said under his breath.

“I didn’t need to come pick you up from the hospital, nor did I need to let you turn on the radio, nor did I need to pull over to allow you to get food from the diner,” Spy pointed out. “All things considered, I’ve been very nice to you so far.”

“What a saint,” Scout mumbled sarcastically.

Silence. “Do you have something to say?”

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about this, alright Spy?” Scout finally huffed.

“And why not?”

“Look, I’ve had a shitty night, okay?” Scout snapped, glaring hard at the desert outside the window. “I got my arm broken in a stupid bar because the guys got annoyed and ditched me and I was up until like four in the morning getting my arm set and put in a cast and then I had to sleep on a shitty bench in a hospital waiting room and then Miss P sent the one person on the planet who hates me more than anyone else to pick me up. I’m not fuckin’ doin’ this right now, okay? Just lay off.”

Silence. Thank god for the radio, or he would’ve suffocated in it.

“Surely I’m not the person who hates you the most in the world,” Spy said after a few moments. “There are nine men being paid to kill you on a daily basis. I’m sure they hate you much more than I do.”

Scout didn’t reply to that.

“And I’m sure none of them would have pulled over to let you get something to eat,” he added.

“Yeah, holy shit, your Peace Prize is in the mail,” Scout huffed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Scout snapped, finally looking over at him. Spy couldn’t hold eye contact for long, needing to watch the road. “What was that supposed to mean?”

Spy sighed hard, looking extremely irritated. “It means that have you ever considered that perhaps the team worries when someone goes missing? And that occasionally your teammates might worry about you?”

“How was I supposed to know? Usually teammates are supposed to be nice,” Scout sassed, echoing Spy’s earlier joke.

He watched Spy take a measured inhale, a controlled exhale. When he spoke a long few seconds later, his voice was level. “Fine,” he said. “Alright. You’ve made your point.”

Scout just turned to look back out the window.

“...And I’m sorry we left you alone at the bar.”

His head whipped back around, eyebrows furrowed. Spy wasn’t looking at him.

“And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier, and thank you for also getting me a sandwich when you didn’t need to,” Spy continued.

Scout waited a good few seconds for the catch, for the ‘gotcha’, for the punchline. For the part where Spy would twist the words around and hit him with something really biting once his guard was down. But nothing came. Just silence.

He needed a long moment to figure out how to reply. “...Thanks,” was all he could manage, and he knew it was lame, but Spy just shrugged and made no further comment.

Minutes of silence. Scout looked out the windshield, picked at his cast. “Punch buggy,” he quipped a few minutes later, slugging Spy on the shoulder with his good hand, and Spy made an appropriate sound of disgust and annoyance and offhandedly threatened to make him walk the rest of the way, but Scout just laughed.

#dad!spy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #my fanfiction #shut up me #everybody talks #spy orders one black coffee and keeps driving like the john mulaney bit

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faunusrights · 4 years

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 21

IN THIS EPISODE OF MURPHY IS SO VERY SLEEPY BUT THE UPDATE SCHEDULE TAKES NO PRISONERS (FOR THE MOMENT):

“So it’s true,” she wheezed between grit fangs—“that bitch really does have you on a leash.”

KINKY,

me: okay lemme refresh on what happened last chapter-- me: /remembers me: oh yeah! yeah that SUCKED,

lets us continue on the journey of deep and immense sadness with glynda ‘clown shoes’ goodwitch!!!!!!!! here we go here we go

It took a while to pry back the jaws of her soul and wrench herself out of them.

ooh i rly like the context change here. before glynda was kinda falling back into her soul as a way of just Getting On With Shit or protecting herself, but now it’s framed in a fun new way of please can i get out of here now. good job glynda. look at u GROUNDING YRSELF like a CHAMP who should have been in a TKO LIKE FIVE ROUNDS AGO--

What did that mean? Had she asked Cinder about Ochre? Glynda struggled to recall, but the memories swirled like clouded ink in her skull.

i still love the continuation of glynda’s Mysterious Messages To Herself. she leads such a thrilling life of ‘did i write that’ and ‘did i do that’ and ‘what does any of this mean’

Hating herself, Glynda found she couldn’t remember.

and also a less thrilling life of the squeaky clown shoes variety. glynda PLEASE

She had to know: was anything Cinder had given her real?

the YOU and the US,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, the DESTINY. dw babe im sure cinder Has Never Told A Lie, Even Once In Her Life, On Account Of Being A Very Open And Honest Person,

Had she been abandoned? Cinder had been unhappy when she left. Angry, maybe. Angry enough to take her leave for good? Or had she always planned to?

i love watching glynda slowly become kind of,,,,,,,,,,,, more aware of herself in relation to other people? sometimes she still Moves or Does w/o rly thinking it thru, but we’ve got quite a change from, like, early chapters of glynda where she was barrelling along with VERY little disregard for both actions AND consequences,,, but look at her now!!!!!!! using her whole ass BRAIN. im proud of her.

When she tried to dismiss this first fear, another one was waiting underneath: had something happened to Cinder?

In her attempts to keep Glynda’s soul from smothering them both, Cinder had been quite willing to converse over the phone with her—even if her texts were short and snippy, she usually at least responded, to avoid backlash. Did she not care anymore? Or—

Or was she unable to?

/leans in, like, uncomfortably close to the microphone

glynda darling i do Not mean 2 worry u but yr (future) gf is currently grieving, pissed beyond belief, and also

/checks notes

failing her way into becoming strawberry jam

But, surprisingly, there was another half to Glynda now: one that worried, despite facts, that Cinder was in danger. That Cinder might need her.

GO AND GET THE GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The light caught in every golden thread of her crown emblem, embroidered with diligent precision. But something else caught her eye: the midnight black surrounding it had a sheen to it. Subtle red ducked through the fabric, glittering like burnished stars in a distant night sky: fire Dust.

The flash of a memory: Cinder’s face when Glynda had complained that her last cape had been burned.

This cape would not burn.

okay so no lie i cant read this bit without my eyes starting to water abt just how GOOD this section is and i have cried TOO MANY TIMES over this fic ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! T H A N K Y O U F O R T H E F O O D !

CINDER MADE IT FIREPROOF. SHE DIDNT HAVE TO. SHE DIDNT NEED TO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT THE SYMBOLISM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IS U N R E A L. I AM CRYING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

GO GET THE GIRL YOU MORON

Glynda didn’t know what to do.

Glynda dialed Winter.

and i am INSTANTLY launched back into the comedy that is glynda goodwitch’s life at large THANKS FOR THE WHIPLASH

“No, I mean… I was awful to you the last time we spoke. I know I was. I keep thinking about it. I’m so sorry, I just… Don’t have anyone else to go to right now. I don’t know who else I’d call.” It was horrible to admit. Loneliness had never shamed her before because her soul had held it at bay. Now it made her sick. “I’m safe. If you don’t want to talk to me…”

LOOK AT THIS CHARACTER GROWTH,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, GLYNDA!!!!!!!! YR DOIN SO WELL BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE COME LOOK AT HER THINKING WITH HER M I N D.

“I lashed out at you, Professor Goodwitch. That wasn’t right of me. I should have known that you weren’t truly to blame for what you said. I know Cinder. She’s manipulative. She twists the world and makes you think she’s a different person than who she really is. I blamed you in the moment, but Cinder Fall is truly the person at fault for making you believe that I would try to hurt you. I shouldn’t have raised my voice or said the things I did.”

/rubs face

like winter needs to be in this fic and og was bereft not having her actually take up 30% of the space as she DESERVES, but god i forgot that shes a whole Thing and winter please just. shush. for a moment. for a second. ilusm. but please shut up.

Glynda was pacing, her Scroll levitating near her.

side note but casual uses of glyndas semblance is one of my fav things i love seeing it. glynda ‘look mom no hands’ goodwitch out here,

Glynda closed her eyes. The tactile recollection of cats arching, bristling, and spitting. Backed into corners. “Maybe she was panicking. I don’t know.”

i dont rly have much to say here other than continuing to enjoy Cinder As Cat, the ongoing metaphor. glyndas just gonna pick her up the scruff of the neck eventually and we will ALL b thankful.

ughghghgb im not gonna copy paste this whole convo w/ winter because this is a liveblog not a shitty projection of the fic on the side wall of a bowling alley, BUT GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD glynda is so WORRIED,,,,,,,,,,, past glynda is befuddled. bemused. why does future glynda Feel so much. but future glynda is FEELING and i love her. das yr gf yr worried abt. DAS HER,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, and also yr other gf winter too but like that’s a long-con sort of egg to hatch,

While it had been some time now since Glynda had been in a proper fight, she expected no trouble. This wasn’t Cinder—ergo: this wasn’t a real threat to her. Still, she would bide her time and hold her silence, if only for the chance of getting a hint of what was going on.

This wasn’t Cinder—ergo: this wasn’t a real threat to her.

LADS,,,, LADIES,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, BEANS,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, IS IT GAY,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, TO SEE YR RIVAL AS YR ONLY REAL THREAT,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

The group crossed the room as one unit, guns aloft and eyes peeled, determined to not be ambushed.

Glynda intended to ambush them regardless.

i dont like 2 say when an au gets a character so right that all other interpretations aren’t valid, but.......................... offal hunt gets glynda so right that all other interpretations aren’t valid, and thats that, on that,

One left. Glynda didn’t hesitate. She had been built to fight Grimm; far stronger, far quicker, far more bestial foes than these. She was herself a blade, sharpened far too fine for these intruders.

sounds hot

“Are they...alive?”

Glynda didn’t pause to check.

“Professor? Are they alive?”

glynda: fuck them kids

“How will you get to her?” Winter asked.

“I always find her in the end,” Glynda answered.

hrm,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, i wonder if that’s foreshadowing something

Her soul was churning inside her, longing for solace, for Cinder. She could picture the way like a burning trail in her mind’s eye; that bright-yellow tether between herself and Cinder, that pathway between their souls that she had tread so many times before. It always led her to Cinder.

HRM,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, I WONDER,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

“Good luck, Glynda.”

“Thank you,” she said again, pausing under the streetlights. “But I won’t need luck. I’ll find her.”

FELLAS,

what a good chapter!!!!!!!!!!! also i cried. BUT I HAD A REAL GOOD TIME. I CAN IMAGINE THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE LESS OF A GOOD TIME, BUT FOR NOW, I WILL ENJOY THE MENTAL IMAGE OF GLYNDA’S BICEPS AND HER FUTURE WEDDING ALSO,

#rwby #offal hunt #liveblog

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faces-in-unexpected-places · 4 years

Text

Do You Have the Time? Episode 023: The Deal

Synopsis: Leopold takes a totally non self-destructive break from his stress. Jeremy and Madison demonstrate a vastly different relationship in their recent past.

[April 24th, 2018, 18:13]

Leopold heaved himself up onto the lab bench and sat right next to the melted surface that Sophia pointed out. The lab was in total and complete disarray. He’d collected many of the large pieces of glass, but the floor was still sparkling with fine shards and glass dust. There were also many jagged pieces still sticking out of the window frame as well. Combined with Sophia’s news, his motivation to keep up a good appearance for Jeremy and Leslie was quickly plummeting. He considered waking IO out of its slumber for help with the cleaning but putting on a face even for a robot felt like a massive undertaking. If he told the others that the glass was taking longer than expected, Leslie would just volunteer herself and Jeremy to help it go faster. And then he would have to tell them what happened while they were gone. If he didn’t, they would notice that something was wrong.

At least Leslie would.

He wiggled his phone out of his pocket and reached out to them for an update.

[LEOPOLD_LESLIE_JEREMY_CONVERSATION_START_18:18]

LL: hey there you 2, how’s the search going :)

JB: Good. Leslie’s driving and we’re on our way back. JB: We took the long way.

LL: ok no problem

JB: Leslie is yelling at me to tell you that it was an accident. JB: She didn’t know where the Home Depot was.

LL: but we were just there…?

LG: I was listening to ur sotyr abt Woodstock that isn’t fair!!

LL: i thought she was the one driving?

LG: red light

LL: where r u guys? LL: hello

JB: Aaand now, it’s a green light. JB: The GPS says we’re about 20 minutes away. JB: We actually just passed Leslie’s house a few minutes ago.

LL: i finished the cleaning a little bit ago LL: y don’t u 2 just head home tonite and bring the supplies tomorrow?

JB: Are you sure? It’s only 20 mins.

LL: u guys r already in ur neighborhoods LL: and u 2 have been staying late and coming in early to work alot lately LL: u deserve a break :)

JB: She wants to know what time we’re coming in tomorrow.

LL: just be here at 9am lie everyone else LL: like* everyone else LL: hello?

JB: Sorry, just rerouting. Rush hour.

LL: no worries!

JB: Okay, Leslie’s going to take me back to my house and head home, then. JB: She’s keeping the supplies in her car overnight and will bring them tomorrow morning.

LL: ok sounds good LL: see u guys then! LL: great job today !

JB: Thanks. You too. JB: Leslie says thank you, too. JB: Sorry, she says, “Thank you!! <3”

LL: lol LL: that sounds like her

JB: Have a good night, Leopold. See you soon.

LL: see u !

[LEOPOLD_LESLIE_JEREMY_CONVERSATION_END_18:30]

Leopold grinned faintly but it was quickly washed away with exhaustion. His face was heavy and expressionless. Tired. He let himself fall off the workbench and landed on his feet. The promise of solitude filled him with a vague relief. He trudged over to the entrance to the lab and locked the doors. Many of the labs nearby had turned their lights off and were left empty for the night. He lugged himself back across the lab and carefully stepped through the sheet of glass dust on the floor of his office until he reached his desk. The lowest side-drawer contained a mess of papers and wires and junk that he should probably have gotten rid of long ago.

All the way in the back was a plastic bag and some flimsy, palm-sized pieces of paper. A small bag next to it contained a pile of grassy-looking balls. He retrieved the two bags, sat down, and dumped a dirty-green colored bud onto the paper. In his top side-drawer, he pulled out a mortar and pestle. When he ordered materials for his lab decades ago, he “accidentally” ordered an extra mortar and pestle. He ground the bud in the bowl with the pestle, sprinkled the green dust into the paper, rolled it tight, licked it together and lit it up with his handy zippo. With his feet up on the desk he took a long puff of his favorite medication and stretched his limbs out.

If he was going to be there for a while, he might as well get comfortable, too.

After today, he needed a break.

[May 13th, 2016, 1:57]

Madison sat anxiously on the couch of a dark living room, scanning the quiet, suburban neighborhood through the window for cars. She checked her phone again. A message from Jeremy ten minutes ago. It said he’d be here in five minutes. She glanced to the clock for the 3rd time. She wasn’t sure what she expected to be different, as if he would somehow arrive faster. A car slowly emerged from behind the next-door neighbor’s hedges and parked on the street in front of the house. She waited for a few seconds, then the car flashed its headlights three times. It was him! She leapt off the couch, stuffed her bare feet into her shoes and silently slipped through the front door, closing it gently behind her. She jogged down the driveway to meet him on the sidewalk.

“You made it,” she said.

“I did. How’s the situation in there?”

“They’re asleep. Went to bed around eleven or midnight.”

“Okay. We should be fine, then. Thanks for doing this,” he said.

“Sure. I wouldn’t deal with them if I didn’t have to, either.”

He shut his car door as quietly as he could and followed Madison up the driveway. He carried a small, flattened cardboard box under his arm. They entered and both took their shoes off out of habit. He followed behind her through the living room and down the hallway. They tiptoed past their parents’ bedroom and stopped at Jeremy’s old room, across the hall from Madison’s. She led him inside, shut the door and used the light from her phone to see. Jeremy observed and did the same.

“So, what are you looking for?” she asked.

“I want my keyboard and all the accessories that go with it, wax warmer and the wax cubes, and some old notes I took for some of my classes. Those can go in the box. I also want to take my bedspread and my old bookshelf. Those, I can fit in the backseat.”

“Really, the keyboard? Even after mom cracked down on your knuckles every practice session? I haven’t heard you play in forever.”

“I haven’t, really. But I can still play, and it is still mine, so I’d like to take it back.”

“Fair enough. Okay, we can do that.”

Aside from periodically bumping into each other in the dark, the plan worked out without a hitch. First, the box was taken to the car. Then the bedspread, and lastly the bookshelf. They had to be extremely careful to not bump the bookshelf into any walls or fixtures. Luckily, they had the carpeted floors on their side, so setting it down was no problem. Walking without shoes on carpet was essentially silent, as well. After waddling out to his car with the shelf, they set it down on the tree lawn to take a breather.

“You sure this is okay?” Jeremy asked.

“A little late to be asking that question, dontcha think, Jay?” she laughed through her breath.

“Will you be okay tomorrow?” he rephrased.

“I think so. Probably. Mom still goes in your room all the time, but I’ll just put one of your old bedspreads on the mattress. If she notices, I’ll just tell her that I’m washing the bedspread you took, or something.”

“What if she asks about it later?”

“I dunno. Guess I’ll figure that out later. At least I’ll buy some time to keep her off my back in the meantime. Besides, that’s only if she notices. No offense Jay, but all the comforters you’ve ever had have had stripes. They all kinda look the same.”

He chuckled, sheepishly.

“Well, just be careful.”

“I always am,” she shrugged, “So, what’s your plan now? Graduating college and everything?” she asked and took a seat on top of his trunk, “You moving far away from here? I can’t imagine the two-hour drive right now is enough distance.”

Jeremy hopped up to sit next to her. They both laid back and looked at the few stars still visible in the suburban light pollution.

“I actually came to talk to you about that,” he said.

“Hmm. So, out with it, then. Where you headed?”

“Nowhere,” he replied.

“Oh, come on, you’ve gotta have somewhere to go.”

“No, Maddie. I’m staying in Curiesville.”

“What? Why?” she sat up and cross-examined, “Don’t you want to get the hell out of Crazy Town?”

“Of course, I do. But I got accepted into a PhD program at CVU in the fall. So, I’m staying there for a while longer.”

“Wait, you’re going back to school? What the hell, man, why?”

“Most jobs I can get are entry level right now, and advancement will take a while. And I’ve always wanted to do research,” he shrugged, “A PhD is a surefire way to really contribute to the body of science. To make some real advancements. To make something new and to make the world better, you know?”

“I guess, man. If it makes you happy, at least.”

“You’re almost done with high-school, right? Two years left?”

“If half-way is almost done in your mind, then yeah, sure,” she scoffed.

“How’s it going so far?” he asked, “I know we haven’t had much time to talk about it since you started.”

“Honestly, I bitch and complain about a lot of stuff, including school, but it’s actually not so bad. I’m not in any of those fancy-pantsy AP science classes like you were, but they’re still interesting. I’ve written a few articles for the school newspaper, actually,” she smiled, “My journalism teacher runs the newspaper and seems to like having me on the team. It’s a nice way to forget about mom and dad at least.”

“That’s great. Have you thought about what you want to do afterwards?” he asked.

Madison laughed and rolled her eyes.

“You sound like everyone else, now. ‘What are you doing with your life, Maddie?’ ‘Apply to colleges early, Maddie!’ ‘Don’t vape in the girl’s bathroom, Maddie!’” she mocked.

“Wait, what?”

“To be honest, I just planned on making a break for it when I turn eighteen.”

“Where to?”

“Dunno, don’t care. Across the country maybe. They have Targets and Walmarts in every state, figured I’d just work at one of those,” she said flippantly.

“You think you’d be happy with that?” Jeremy interviewed.

“Beats wasting away at forty, living in mom’s spare room, listening her talk about what a disappointment I am.”

“You don’t want to go to college?”

“Pfff, fat chance. Nowhere to live, no colleges in mind, and no money to pay for it.”

“There’s always financial aid. Loans to take out. Scholarships, all kinds of stuff. You just have to know where to look,” Jeremy persisted.

“Yeah, maybe you could get scholarships, genius. Do I look like someone who could do that?”

“Maddie, if you have a pulse, you can get scholarships. I applied for one that awarded me $500 for having a GPA above 3.0 and explaining why I thought I deserved the scholarship. It really can be that easy.”

“I guess so. That’s still just one piece of a way bigger puzzle, though.”

“Alright, I’ll just get to the point,” Jeremy sighed and sat up, “I get a yearly stipend of $30,000 to live off while I get my PhD. With some careful searching, that can cover basically all our living expenses. Both of us. And it could leave us with a little extra left over if we need it. We can get you financial aid and loans to pay for your classes,” he argued.

Madison turned to look at him directly. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, ruminating with her internal conflicts.

“Whoa, whoa, man. You’re… not serious, are you?” she asked.

“If I was joking, you would be laughing, Maddie,”

She furrowed her brow and scoffed.

“Shut up,” Jeremy scoffed back, “Yes, I’m serious. So, what’s your answer?”

“…It sounds nice, honestly, Jeremy, but… I couldn’t put you out like that. You’re… I mean, God, I hate that I’m going to say this, but you’re brilliant! Crazy smart and hard-working, and shit just comes to you, but it doesn’t work like that for me. I’m not anything special. I don’t even know what I would study…”

“You’ve got time to figure it out. Just think about it. Or you could work at Target in Curiesville with a familiar face around and build up some savings. Either way… you don’t have to fend for yourself if you don’t want to.”

“…You’re really okay with that. Sharing a place and supporting the family fuck-up?”

“You’re not the family fuck-up, mom and dad are.”

She nodded and grimaced in agreement.

“Where would we live?” she probed.

“Probably an apartment. They’re usually cheaper. There’s all kinds of options that we can look at, especially when you get closer to eighteen and have been accepted to the university and/or gotten a job at the Target of your choosing.”

“…And you really think that I can do college?” she persisted in her skepticism.

“You don’t have to be perfect. All you have to do is try your best, study, and talk to your professors. Most of them really want you to succeed, too. And I’ll be there to help you along the way if you need it. Seeing as how I just went through four years of college; I could probably answer a lot of questions for you. You would just have to keep me updated on how things are going and ask for help when you need it. If you want to quit and get a job instead, that would be okay, too. Just don’t give up on your classes without withdrawing and dropping out of the next semester. Otherwise, you’ll just build debt from classes you didn’t plan on passing, and that will be harder for us to deal with.”

“Well… I guess it would be nice to know that I’ve got a place to go once I can leave…” she said to herself, “I’ll think about the college thing. But if you’re totally sure that you’re okay with finding a place together…”

“I am,” he said firmly.

Madison slowly let go of her prudent attitude and let her beaming smile shine through. She squealed under her breath and glommed onto Jeremy in excitement. He grinned and returned her hug.

“Oh, our place would look so great, too! Can you imagine? I can already see it, now! Nice couch, sweet-ass TV for movie and videogame nights with ice-cream, ugh! Why can’t I just fast-forward two years already.”

He pulled himself away to look at her.

“It’ll go by faster than you think. Especially since you have school to do until then. Make sure to keep your grades up and build some good relationships with your teachers now, so that you can have a good application to CVU, if you want it, alright? You’ll need them to write good letters of recommendation. Next time we talk, we can talk about the SAT, too.”

“Oh yeah, I actually convinced mom to get me one of those study books for it? You know the ones.”

Jeremy smirked.

“So, you were already thinking about college, then?” he analyzed.

“Wh—I—I mean—yeah, a little. Just out of curiosity. With everyone talking about it, and everything…”

“Okay. Sure. Good for you,” Jeremy teased.

“What!”

“Nothing!” he laughed, “Just impressed. Study hard. I’m sure you’ll do very well.”

“I’m not a nerd like you though, let’s make that clear,” she guarded, pushing her hands out, defensively.

“I didn’t say anything,” he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re looking at me with that shit-eating grin!” she slapped him on the arm.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “Alright, there’s no need for violence, here. Especially since nerds can’t fight, anyway.”

“Hey!” she protested.

“What? I just meant me,” he taunted, “…and those closely related,” he mumbled.

“Jay!”

“What?! Come on, let’s get this bookshelf in the car before the sun comes up, and mom puts us in a cage or something.”

Jeremy hopped off the trunk of his car and helped Madison down, as well. They muscled the bookshelf on its side into the back of his car and shut the doors. That was everything Jeremy had returned home for. They stood on the sidewalk, avoiding the goodbye that neither wanted to say.

“So… what are you doing, now?” she asked.

“Well, I’m taking this stuff back to my place and setting it up, I suppose. I’ve had a bit more free time to make the trip out here since I graduated yesterday. Everything been okay here with mom and dad?”

“Eh, well, not much has changed, if that’s what you mean. Mom is still the same dictator she-demon she’s always been, rambling about you and how you’re basically science’s second coming of Christ, but also she hates you for moving away?”

“Makes sense.”

“And dad is… well, he’s nice sometimes, I guess. But he’ll never stand up for either of us when mom is going on an abusive tirade. Honest to god, I think he should just divorce her for his sake, even if I have to stay. He’s not here against his will, I don’t know why he doesn’t just leave.”

“Who knows. Fear, maybe? One thing I learned about dad early on is that when fear kicks in, he’s basically useless. And so long as he’s married to mom, he’s scared all the time.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Madison agreed, “Well, I’m not too scared to leave, and when I do, you and I are living it up!”

“It’ll be great,” Jeremy smiled faintly.

They both trailed off, and their talk met its natural end. He knew it was time to go. Madison watched his smile fade away, and hers followed quickly behind.

“I guess this is it, huh?” she said, “You gonna be okay making the drive back?”

“I think so. I slept in today on purpose today.”

“Heh. You even plan on sleeping in…” she chuckled, “…When are we gonna see each other again, Jay?”

“…I’m not sure. The summer will be busy for me while I work to save up some extra money for us. Maybe sometime in the fall when I get the hang of my new program.”

“Okay,” she frowned, “It’s just that… I miss ya sometimes, ya know?”

Her eyes swelled up and a tear rolled down her cheek. She kept herself composed and quiet to avoid waking anyone up.

“I miss you a lot, too, Maddie. Why do you think I planned out the next two years of your life?” he joked.

She let out a half-laugh-half-gasp.

“I guess that’s true.”

“You have my number still, right?”

“I do.”

“Good. Maybe we can talk more that way, send each other pictures and whatnot,” he sniffed.

“Yeah, good idea. We should do that.”

They both suddenly clung to each other and held on as tight as they could, quietly sniveling into each other’s shoulders. They clinched each other until their arms were tired, since they knew they wouldn’t be seeing each other for six months. Jeremy quietly spoke into her shoulder.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said.

“Heh, aww, come on, it was nothin’,” she said, “Anything to see my state-issued nerd, again,” she smiled and wiped her eyes with her forearm, “Thanks for planning me a better life.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, Jay,” she whispered.

“Love you too, Maddie.”

They squeezed each other tight once more, and disbanded. Madison then gave Jeremy space to get into his car. She stood on the sidewalk with her arms folded in front of her, watching him get ready to leave. He pulled into the next driveway across the street, turned his car around, and flashed his headlights on his way out. Madison waved goodbye from the tree lawn until she watched him turn down the next road.

Then, her neighborhood was as quiet and still as it was before he came.

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