#what did Marvin go home and tell his family after this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beerecordings · 3 months

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Look we all know Mr. Higgins is the real star of the new comics. Here is a fic about him adopting Marvin, all while Marvin finds himself struggling desperately against the memory control of the Magic Circle. Written after Altrverse #0, extrapolations are probably not canon to anything. Thanks for reading, let me know if you enjoy!

The excitement of a new book always fills him with verve enough to keep him up late into the night. His shop is warm, a green fire burning without wood or fuel along the back wall, and his scalp tingles with every new sigil passing through his vision.

The fact that it's an extremely illegal book to own only makes it more exciting for Marvin.

He's almost laid out over the counter, bent low over the pages, his free hand wrapped around a third mug of hot mint tea – got to have something to go with the book, after all – when the door to the shop jingles. He'd meant to lock up for the night, but he hadn't managed to tear himself away. “Come in!” he calls distractedly, pressing his hand over a complex sigil shaped like a pair of antlers.

No footsteps sound. Marvin looks up quickly, his mind conjuring images of the twins in full regalia in his doorway, ready to strip him of his power for the transgression of his black magic book, but no one's there.

He can't decide if that's worse or better.

“Hello?” he calls, voice sharpening. He can handle most magicians, and certainly any civilians. But if this is the Magic Circle trying games with him, he won't be playing. “Reveal yourself.”

Something shifts by the bookshelf closest to the door. Marvin gets to his feet, book forgotten, and fixes his mask back over his face. He'll address this head on. He summons a spell and transports the four feet to be on the other side of his bookshelf, purple light gleaming for a second in his wake, alighting on his hand markings.

“Meow?” says a little grey and white cat.

Marvin stops short, mouth falling open in delight. The tension rushes out of him so fast his face feels cold. He claps his hands together and falls to his knees. “Hello, there, darling, aren't you a pretty sight? I wouldn't have thought a cat could get through that door, or you wouldn't have set me so on alert, you know! You must have really wanted in.”

He glances up at the door. Really, how did a cat push through that? The cat mewls at him again.

“Oh, come here, poor thing.”

He scratches his fingers against the carpet. The cat looks at him with interest, sitting down beside his shelves. It has remarkably clear eyes, blinking languidly at him, tail flicking. It's so calm Marvin just approaches it, putting a hand on its head and stroking down its grey back. It closes its eyes and purrs minutely, completely unhurried.

“Yes, there's a good little creature,” Marvin laughs. He pulls his hand away at a tacky sensation and finds his palm coated in dirt and dust. He sits petting the cat for several minutes, until the creature flops onto its side and exposes its belly to him. It's a male cat, purring loudly at him now, those cute paws folded in the air. Marvin laughs.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. But I can't have you tearing up the carpet or peeing on my books, kitten. Tell you what, I'll get you something to eat from upstairs and set it outside for you. Okay? Be right back.”

He heads upstairs to his flat and gets into the fridge, setting several strips of deli meat onto a plate for the cat. Maybe he'll take some pictures of the little guy as he eats. It would be nice to have a cat coming around every now and then. He had cats as a kid, in his family home, before he had to... well, before everything that happened. He loved them enough to shape his mask after them, but he's never had the free time for a pet. At this point, he's not even sure he has the safety for a pet. If the Circle finds out...

Well. Seeing as he himself isn't even aware of what he's doing half the time, he's hoping the chances of being discovered are slim.

Marvin sighs and heads back downstairs, clicking his tongue at the cat as he walks to the door and opens it. He sets the dish on the ground, but the cat hasn't moved, just looking at him from the carpet inside.

“Oh, you're comfy there, are you?” Marvin chuckles. “I understand. But you better have something to eat. Come here, then.”

The cat doesn't get up. Marvin sighs again, stepping over to him. “Sorry, my darling, but you can't stay in here.”

He leans down to pick the cat up. He doesn't struggle at all – well-behaved little thing – but as Marvin sets a foot outside, he sees a droplet of dark grey appear on the pavement beside it.

He frowns and looks up. A drop of water strikes his cheek.

“Really, right now?”

He's used to UK rain, but it's only a moment or two later that a full torrential downpour is pushing him back inside the shop. He curses and grabs the deli meat, pulling the dish inside. The cat leans down and delicately begins eating.

“Oh, lucky bugger,” Marvin says, shaking his head. “You're sure you're not a magic spy cat or something? A man disguised as a cat to trick me?”

The cat finishes the turkey and leans down to begin licking his anus.

“Alright, yeah, not a spy.”

Marvin looks out at the rain, coming down aggressively onto the awning and beating a cold rhythm through the shop. The cat polishes himself up politely at Marvin's feet. Poor dirty thing. Maybe he has an owner who's looking for him.

“Alright, then,” Marvin says, leaning down to pick the cat up once more. “You can stay just for tonight, while I figure out what to do with you.”

The cat pushes its head into his chin and purrs.

"Why do you have this? Where did you get it?"

"Would you just look?"

Sunday chooses to look up at him instead, something between astonishment and dismay arguing on his face. "Marvin..."

Marvin sighs out and taps the front of the book. "I have some contacts from my old mentor. They found this for me."

"Marvin, Ramesses wasn't exactly the kind of magician the Circle would approve of."

"You think I don't know that?"

Sunday sighs and rubs at the ear of his mask - a pretty cute form of self-soothing, really. After a moment, he flicks open the pages of the book.

"How's your memory today?" Marvin asks, trying not to sound too strained.

"What do you mean, my memory?"

"Do you remember that the Circle has been wiping things from our heads?" Marvin insists, clutching at the table.

Sunday's eyes flicker. "Right. That's... why we're looking at things like this."

"Right," Marvin agrees, relieved. "That's why we need help from magicians like Ramesses. Ones who know what's really going on. We need to find a way to keep them out of our heads."

It's dangerous stuff, but he and Sunday have had that discussion. Marvin has to trust that he's going to stay on board even as both of their memories ebb and flow. He desperately needs someone to help him remember. It's infuriating, knowing that the people who are supposed to be helping magicians are just taking control of them instead. Marvin won't be their puppet.

"This is the spell you're looking at?" asks Sunday.

"Yes. To protect someone from mind magic."

"You can't cast that alone."

"Help me, then!"

"We can't cast this alone," Sunday corrects. "You would need a huge group or an artifact."

"I have some magical artifacts."

"Not ones with enough power."

"Sunday, please."

"Marvin." His friend looks up at him sharply. "I know how deep we are in over our heads, but that's why we must be careful. You don't even know if this spell will work. It could harm you, change you, burn you out. Start with some of the smaller ones... look, this can imbue an object with the magic to see things for you. A looking glass of its own. And I'm sure you've been scrying."

Marvin grits his teeth. Yes, he's been scrying. All he sees is black wisps and red eyes through the darkness. Something is coming, and he can't stop it without knowing his mind is secure. He needs to expel the twins from the Magic Circle, needs to have a group of magicians he can trust, needs to -

"Marvin," says Sunday again. "You're working yourself up."

His sigils are glowing. He turns away bitterly, clutching his hands into fists.

"We're going to figure it out," Sunday says wearily. "You have to believe that. But you can't hurt yourself."

He sets the book down. "I need to get going. Not all of us get to run our own bookstores. I'll text you tomorrow after work, okay?"

"Fine," says Marvin. "Fine."

"Whoa, wait, is this yours?"

Marvin looks over to see the stray cat coming out of his bedroom, sitting down beside Sunday to regard him warily. It meows at him loudly enough that Sunday chuckles.

"No, I just took him in for a couple nights," Marvin sighs. "Trying to find his owner."

"And if he doesn't have one?"

"I don't know." He really doesn't. The cat's super cute, but Marvin has a lot going on. "I don't think I've got time for a cat. I get a little focused on one thing at a time."

Sunday gives him a look of disbelief. "A little?"

"Oh, shut it."

Sunday rubs the cat's head for a moment before standing. "We'll figure this out," he repeats. "Don't lose hope."

"I need you to give me some," Marvin says wearily.

Sunday touches his shoulder and grins at him, just as tired, but there's nothing more he can say. Once he's gone, Marvin sinks onto the couch, sighing deep. The cat jumps up beside him.

"You want to switch places?" Marvin asks, reaching out to scratch his chin. "I'll sleep and eat all day and you can go back to a place where you know you'll be brainwashed every time they call for you. You don't know how sick it makes me... but then, of course, I forget, and I'm theirs again."

He almost sinks in on himself, then, just wanting to melt into the couch. But the cat gets into his lap and meows at him, and the stink of his breath makes him laugh and pull back, and he sits up and pets him for a while instead of crumpling into his own dismay.

“Well, he's not got fleas or ticks or anything.”

The vet runs her hands professionally over the disgruntled cat, looking through his fur and petting his head. He turns to Marvin like he's expecting him to come help, and Marvin stifles a laugh. He's an expressive cat, really. Must have been good at begging for scraps.

“Really, none?”

“No," says the vet. "Why, did you see some?”

“No, it's just, I figured a stray cat would have one. You sure he's not chipped either?”

“No chip,” the vet confirms, running her hands over the cat. “How long have you had him?”

“Five days now. I called the animal shelter and posted online in case anyone is looking for him.”

“You can check our board in case someone's posted that he's lost.”

“Alright, will do.”

“But he's neutered and all, so you don't have to worry about that.”

“Good,” says Marvin emphatically. “I've never met such a headstrong cat. I don't think he'd let anybody get down there with scissors.”

“Oh, but he's such a well-mannered little boy,” coos the vet, petting the cat's head. The cat purrs.

“Yeah, now,” Marvin laughs. “But if you do something he doesn't like, he will let you know. I think he's capable of revenge.”

They have a laugh about it and the vet gets ready to give him some shots. When she gets out a syringe, the cat raises his butt like he's ready to bolt, but Marvin grabs his scruff sharply and leans down to chide him.

“Everybody has to get shots, Higgins,” he says. “You behave. You can't come home if you're not healthy.”

“Oh, no, you've named him,” smiles the vet.

Marvin puffs out a sigh. “I have, haven't I? I didn't mean to. But doesn't he look just like a little Mr. Higgins? Who's the prettiest boy?”

Mr. Higgins shoots him a disgruntled look, but he allows the vet to pin him down gently and give him his shots. Soon as they're done, he nips Marvin's thumb with his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” says Marvin, pushing him back into the carrier. “We'll check the board and then get you home.”

He's still not sure he wants a cat, but Higgins keeps trying to sleep in his bed, so Marvin figured he'd be responsible and get him checked over before they both get fleas. "You might not get to stick around forever," he tells the cat. "But I'll take care of you while you do."

But as he gets out to the reception of the vet's clinic, looking at their board of announcements and missing pet posters, he realizes he doesn't mind having the cat around. And this is how people get cats, right? They just take one in for a night, and then the cat adopts you. It's not like there's much going on for him right now, anyone. Things are good at the shop and with the Magic Circle. Everything's -

Higgins lets out a meow so loud other people turn to look at him, and so does Marvin, surprised. He's reminded of Higgins meowing at Sunday, who was over at his place to - to what?

To look at that black magic book...

Which he got because... because... why? Why is he looking at magic like that?

Higgins meows again, a little strangled. Marvin looks into his big, languid cat's eyes. Because...

The Circle is fucking with his head.

The realization hits him like a baseball in the chest, but even as it does, he knows this isn't the first time he's realized it. They keep making him forget - forget - forget.

He's a fucking puppet.

Marvin pushes himself out of the vet's office, vision blurry with frustrated tears.

"It keeps happening," he says to Higgins, voice tight. "I can't make them stop."

Higgins looks up at him from his carrier. The cat's quiet now, not struggling or meowing. Just looking at him.

"Yeah, you might not want me for an owner," sighs Marvin. "Fucked up head and a fucked up mess I can't seem to get myself out of."

Higgins lets out one little meow. Okay. That's pretty cute too. Marvin tries to get over himself. The self-pity won't help. Maybe, when he gets home, he can focus on getting Higgins a treat instead, since he was such a little gentleman at the vet.

Knowing that Sunday is right about the spell he wants to try doesn't it make it any easier to resist.

In fact, he thinks it makes it harder. Who is Sunday to tell Marvin what he's capable of?

He's always had that proud streak, and he knows it. Wanting to be the best at everything has served Marvin well in some parts of his life, but he's also been called cocky, overzealous, and, on one occasion, "basically a rat going to town on a Cheeto when it comes to magic," and all for good reason.

Higgins has hopped up on the kitchen counter, sitting beside the black magic book. Everytime Marvin looks over at it, he meows pointedly. If he didn't know better, he'd say the little miscreant was trying to warn him away too.

"It's just a spell," Marvin tells him, pacing around his living room. "I've never died trying stupid spells before. And I have tried some damn powerful spells."

He's good at powerful spells. He's a powerful fucking sorceror. It's why he was picked for this, mentored so intensely, sculpted to be better, better, better. The Magic Circle has its rules, but it should never have become a means to control him or restrain him. They can't take his own mind for him. He won't allow it!

"No one else is doing anything about it," he says to Higgins. "Sunday's the only one who's been able to hear me out and not forget everything the very next day. And even him, I have to remind again and again, and he has to remind me."

Higgins says "mrrp."

"Well, it's not like I can just leave the Magic Circle! All magical authority comes from them, and the twins - well. I have a lot to learn from the twins. Things the outsiders will never have access to. No, I need to be the one to take this all down from the inside. I'll cleanse it with fire if I have to! Or else - or else what will happen? We'll all be their slaves forever."

No. No. He won't be their tool. He grabs the black book. Higgins yowls.

"There is food for you in your bowl," Marvin chides him, heading towards the stairs. "Stay up here!"

Higgins tries to follow him down to the shop, and Marvin has to push him away with his foot, closing the door on him. Higgins makes a noise that can't be anything other than annoyed.

"Needy thing," Marvin chides, heading down the stairs, but it's soon gone from his mind. He's really going to try a new spell, one that might exorcise the twins's control over him. There's no rush like this, he loves it. New books, new spells, new magic. This is what he was born and trained for.

"Sunday doesn't know what I can do," Marvin says, putting his book down on his desk. This time, he makes sure the door to the shop is locked. "And neither do the fucking twins."

Mensprotego, not the original name of the spell, to be sure. It's Romanian in origin and the name is just some Latin combination of phrases given to it to lend it a feeling of power. But Marvin knows the real power of it as he traces the words over the spell. He draws his sigils with precision - he should have known when he was practicing the unfamiliar ones that he would always end up trying this alone - and sticks a mandrake leaf against the roof of his mouth, as the spell instructs. For extra energy, he'll use Ramesses's old staff.

It's good to grip it in his hands again. Even after all this time, he still thinks he can feel his mentor with him every time he holds it. Sometimes, he even gets the nostalgic smell of fire and the Vaseline he would smear over his scarring.

"Help me once again," he asks, pulling the staff over to his counter.

The power rushes up over him like a wave of water as he starts to speak. It's a strange sort of spell, the way it coasts over him, like it's sending sparks into him, a mini electrification that keeps repeating across his body - and keeps getting stronger. He wets his lips and keeps going. He's more used to magic that makes you feel tired as you use too much, but this! This is invigorating. His heart starts to pound. He can feel it against his chest. The electricity feeling makes him cramp, his fingers squeezing at the staff, and then his tongue sticks to his mouth. Wow. It kind of makes it hard to move. Kind of hurts.

Another wave of it grips him, and he pauses, breathing out and giving himself the chance to stop.

But then what will happen? Nothing. Things will keep going as they are. He can't take it. He has to keep going. To keep trying something new.

"I will not be yours," he whispers, and, clearing his throat, speaks the last words of the spell.

Everything explodes with light, blinding him, and a hot, raw pain bursts across him, his whole body lit up with purple markings, his eyes aglow, though he cannot see through them. He gasps and his body tries to crumple, but another wave of it crosses over him, shocking him stiff, unable to even collapse. Still, he clings to the spell, to the magic, vying hard for protection. If he can just get free, nothing else matters. He'll recover later, won't he? If he can just protect himself -

Something sharp clenches down on his ankle and he yells. The different kind of pain snaps him out of everything, and he drops Ramesses's staff, falling to his knees, still blind to all but his own light.

The electricity stops, but he thinks his brain might have short-circuited with it. He feels himself start to shake - maybe even to seize - he drops to the ground -

He loses consciousness to the sound of something scraping at his sigils with its claws.

Marvin wakes to the heavy smell of blood in his nose, and his fingers come up towards it instinctively, shaky and unsure.

"Ungh," he groans, shifting against the cold wood of his shop's backroom. He spits out a mandrake leaf, smacking his tongue at the odorous taste.

Marvin tries to push his glasses back into place, only to find the right temple snapped off its hinge, the glass cracked at the side. He pulls them off his face and sits up.

It makes his head rush painfully. Owch. There's blood all the way from his nose to his chin.

Okay, okay. Fine. He went way too far. Sunday's right, he's pushing too hard. Worse, he's not sure what would have happened if he didn't have that sharp pain.

He pulls his ankle up to himself as he sits down. Wait - that is distinctly a cat bite.

Setting his leg down, he lets his head thump back in surprise. Higgins saved him. Did he know he was in distress, or just get scared by the light and shaking?

"Higgs?" he calls. "You here?"

No little feet come padding towards him. He drags himself onto his feet - his poor head, owch - and stumbles towards the bathroom, washing his face off and swishing water around his mouth to clear out the copper taste.

"Maybe I don't tell Sunday about this," he mutters. He's made himself sick for certain. He won't feel well in the morning either. What's he going to do? Just -- with all of it, what is he doing?

The tears prick up against his will and he scowls at himself in the mirror, brushing at his eyes with the un-bloodied side of a washcloth. He strikes the flat of his palm against the bathroom counter and breathes. He can't let the twins or the council keep misusing their magic. He promised Ramesses he'd find a way.

But honestly, he just really wants to sleep for about twelve years or so. Feels like that would fix everything. Why does all this have to be on his shoulders alone?

"Not crying, we are not crying about this," he announces to himself, tossing the washcloth in the sink and stepping back into his living room. He crashes onto his couch and his head swims again from the movement. He covers his face from the light and breathes out slowly.

"Meow."

It's a very professional little meow, no wailing or pleading involved. Marvin pulls his arm away from his eyes and blinks towards the floor, where Higgins looks up at him carefully.

"Meow," he repeats.

"You want up here?" asks Marvin. He pats the little space beside his stomach. "You can come on."

Higgins doesn't move, peering up at him. He has eyes like a little man sometimes. Marvin prefers him playing, when his pupils get dilated huge and he just looks like the cute dumbass he's supposed to be.

"Yes, alright, I went too far," Marvin sighs. "What, are you angry? I'm sorry."

Higgins wraps his tail daintily around himself, blinking. Marvin sits up with a sigh and reaches for him.

Higgins say "mrrp" a little irritably, but he lets Marvin pull him onto his stomach and set him down there, stroking his head. After a few quiet minutes, Higgins settles and starts to purr gently.

"What a good boy," Marvin murmurs, scratching his ears as he lies back. "Did you know I needed help?"

Higgins looks at him with slitted eyes, rumbling.

"You got me out of that," Marvin continues. "You've never bit me like that before. Did I scare you? I'm sorry."

Higgins gets up slightly and Marvin mourns the loss of the warmth. But his cat doesn't hop off the couch. He just clambers higher up Marvin and pushes his soft head into his neck.

Marvin's face creases and the tears burn his eyes again. He blinks rapidly and wraps his arms around the hot little body of his cat.

"There's my good boy," Marvin rasps, holding him close. "My hero, aren't you? What a good cat."

He hugs Higgins close to him, closing his eyes, and for several minutes interrupted only by steady purring, he does cry. Maybe it's okay. No one's here to see him, and he'll feel better afterwards. Higgins licks the salt from his beard.

"Thank you, lovey," Marvin purrs back to him, scratching his back. "I know someone's got my back, don't I?"

Higgins meows loudly at him and Marvin laughs, wiping his face.

"Yuck, cat breath. You must be hungry. I'll fill your bowl, okay? And I better get something for me, too. Maybe a treat tonight. You think there are delivery places open twenty-four seven?"

Apparently it's not abnormal for someone to want pad see-ew at two in the morning, because his food comes less than fifteen minutes later. It hurts his head to go down the stairs, but it's euphoric to crash on his couch with several hot boxes of takeout arrayed on his coffee table. He puts on a Ghibli flick and spaces out hard, kept in the moment just by the sweet noodles and broccoli, the flashing colors of a movie he's seen a hundred times, and his cat, who jumps right back onto his lap and tries to get his head into the takeout box. Marvin lets him have a little too much chicken, but he's such a good boy, he deserves it. It's nice, really. It's nice to have this cat, purring on his chest as he sinks towards a deep sleep.

He thinks Higgins is asleep too.

Marvin wakes up feeling sick.

"Oh, my darling," he groans, feeling Higgins move as he does. "What did I do last night?"

He sits up slowly, glancing around his living room. He got take-out? He's usually so strict about eating at home. Did he drink?

"Well, I must have," he breathes, standing. He goes to his kitchen, but there's nothing out, no empty bottles or discarded lids. There's nothing in the trash out of the ordinary either. He didn't go out, right? He checks his phone, but he hasn't talked to anyone since yesterday. He wasn't out with friends, and he's sure he had no one over.

He's still trying to figure out what happened as he heads towards the bathroom, but the bloody washcloth in the sink stops him short. Marvin shakes his head, bewildered, and a little worried too, now. What is going on?

Higgins meows at him. He glances down at his cat. Higgins moves between his legs and then, apropos of nothing, puts his little teeth in Marvin's heel.

"Ow! Higgins! You - you bit me..."

He was trying that spell last night. He made himself sick with overuse. Higgins bit his ankle.

"Oh, oh," he whimpers, trying not to spiral. "They have such a grip on my memory I even forgot my own endeavors. They're in my house. In my head. I can't... I can't, I..."

He sinks down to his knees, shaking. His fingers press against the cold tile floor, and he sucks in shaking breaths, the fury and the terror passing over and through him like a great wave of heat.

"No more," he snarls, striking his hand against the floor. "No more of this. I will remember anything they take from me. Again and again, as much as I lose, I will get it back no matter what. I'll remember. And then I'll fight."

He turns his head and presses his hand against his cat's head. Higgins looks up at him with those sharp eyes, his fur soft against the palm of his hand.

"And you're going to help me, aren't you, my darling?"

He really does think that he sees that cat nod in that moment. The oddest part is, it doesn't even really surprise him.

"Right, then," Marvin breathes, his panic clearing. "Right. Back on your feet, Marvin, and no more sulking. Anyway, you got to get the cat fed."

Higgins' eyes dilate and his tail stands straight up. Marvin finds himself laughing despite everything.

"Okay, okay. One thing at a time."

He kisses his cat on the head, and goes to get him his breakfast. The rest will come - and he'll be ready.

#altrverse #higgins the cat #marvin the magnificent #jacksepticeye

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christwi · 1 year

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jimbo and ned headcanon dump

Ned:

Ned is partially blind, mostly in his right eye. their eyes are pretty sensitive to light aswell which is why they wear sunglasses.

on the topic of his eyes tho, theyre pale green. they were alot more vividly green when he was younger.

Jimbo helps him tie his headband on every morning

bro he can go weeks without showering without any complaints.

he eats raw meat sometimes and it concerns alot of his friends.

his only living biological relative is his sister, however hes found his own family now, and jimbo is that family, that and the marshes. while he doesnt see them that much, he still considers stan his own nephew just as much as jimbo does, even if he doesnt say that outloud.

hes pretty good at climbing despite his lack of a particular limb.

Jimbo:

im still thinking about his eye color but im thinking of him either having dark brown eyes or possibly some form of heterochromia for the fun of it.

ned refuses to let him use the oven unsupervised yet due to him almost burning down the kitchen on several occasions (and i say yet because hes still trying to teach him how to Not set the house on fire)

hes great at sewing, hes made some diy taxidermy and clothes from animal pelts.

stan showed him pictures of fursuiters once. hes still in shock.

he unironically enjoys eating bugs.

when he was around stans age he would bite people who pissed him off. still has the urge to do it sometimes.

has a bit of a problem with placing bets on things like sports too often so he sets a particular limit for himself on how much he can bet at a time.

Jimbo and Ned:

1. They designed and built their house together from the ground up and had to acquire a couple skills along the way from it, mostly via hurting themselves multiple times and learning to not do the things that caused that again and also getting advice from people who actually knew how to build things.

2. they arent legally married, and still werent after it was legalized. mostly due to not wanting to lose sales at their shop, ratings on their show, and lose a couple friends. but also because they dont see the point in signing a bunch of dumb paperwork to make them legally linked together.

3. they had a small, at home wedding, nothing big or fancy. they didnt want anything fancy to begin with though so it worked just fine for them. just a small ceremony with randy and sharon and a set of rings was all they actually needed and wanted. (stan and shelly were around 2 and 6 at the time, left them at home with a babysitter.)

4. yk the girls from the craig x tweek episode right. one of them carved jimbo and neds initials into a big tree stump and jimbo and ned were only notified of it because stan accidentally let it slip infront of them. (stan thought of jimbo and ned as being too macho to be gay so he didnt think too hard on it, but still does from time to time)

5. jimbos the more physically affectionate of the two while ned is more words-of-affirmation oriented. they learned this overtime and work with eachothers love languages.

6. ever since what happened with MBP, jimbo has been more cautious with ned. making sure he doesnt get hurt. ned appreciates this but sometimes jimbo goes a little overboard on it and ned has to reassure him that hes fine. but sometimes ned doesnt believe that himself.

7. theyve been almost caught and even directly caught being affectionate with one another on multiple occasions, but most didnt even notice or consider it anything other than platonic. and those who did (skeeter, but also sharon, randy, and shelly but those three dont count) have kept their mouths shut about it. theyre thankful and also shocked everyday that almost noones found them out after over 30 years.

8. they dont know if its "time" to tell stan and shelly about their relationship. they think shellys ready and plan to tell her eventually, stan on the other hand theyre waiting a couple years to tell. him and marvin are the only ones who dont know. not telling marvin tho hes just gonna have a heart attack right on the spot and die

thank you for reading !!

(post has since been edited due to some consistency errors cuz i wrote this at fuckin 2am and didnt think too much on it so yea)

🧡💚

#nedbo #jimbo kern #ned gerblansky #jimbo x ned #south park

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ddmienz · 2 years

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What do you think about Modern Obirin headcanon??

Btw i love reading your hc about Obirin!!

I love ObiRin questions!! And thank you sooo much! Let's go!

Modern ObiRin Headcanons:

-Obito would be a detective sergeant, and I think that the police officers or detectives he's leading would be the Akatsuki members, lol, while Rin would be a doctor! Yup; Sakura and Ino are one of her little first-year residents~ Given that Obito is an Uchiha, of course, his family owns the headquarters and the police academy (a tie-in to the Konoha Military Police Force) - although Obito made his way up to the top by himself. While Rin's intelligence and love for medicine got her to be a great doctor in Konoha Hospital (in a modern AU you can say it's the best hospital XD).

-They're technically the couple that are best friends who fell in love - the typical "marry your best friend" type of couple.

-They've been best friends since childhood - their first meeting was during elementary school and they have been stuck together ever since. They did everything together! They become a couple when they're older though - probably during college or after college, (Obito definitely fell in love with her during junior high however), and as they grew older - they start to know better and feelings only grew deeper and the next thing they did was overcome the fear of ruining their friendship with their romantic feelings for each other, or the fact that they'd be in different schools (Rin in medical school and Obito at the police academy), and took the step to become an official loving couple that supported each other's dreams and goals.

-They both know how to emotionally support each other during the hardest times, especially when they're facing hard cases (Rin's medical cases and Obito's crime investigations) from their work. They'd come home and easily know how to comfort one another - sometimes without words spoken.

-Obito and Rin would split cooking with each other. That's right, Obito definitely knows how to cook! They both think that the other's cooking is better, lol

-They're the type of couple that would watch medical dramas or crime dramas and crack jokes at the inaccuracies; which is probably one of their favorite non-intimate moment to have where they just sit down and relax by the TV together.

-(NSFW) They definitely roleplay together in the bedroom as their respective jobs - you know, Obito gets to "arrest" Rin under the charges of being "naughty" and that she needs to be punished, and Obito gets to be Rin's patient who is in need of "sexual healing~" (yup, think of that Marvin Gaye song).

-Their favorite places to go for a date is a quiet beach where it's just the two of them - because Rin loves collecting shells and enjoying the ocean sunsets; and they also love exploring nature - it's their own personal way of escaping the realities that they face in their work.

-Obito definitely proposed to her by that beach, too, during that golden sunset with the gentle sea breeze blowing by and it's just the two of them, with the love of her life down on one knee holding a beautiful seashell ring box.

-When they have a late shift, they always make sure to check in on each other every now and then because they'd miss each other - like a lot. Especially Obito; if he's at home while Rin is held up at the hospital, he gets pouty, and vice versa if Obito is held up at the precinct.

-They like massaging each other, especially after a long day at work. It's one of their ways of taking care of each other. Obito would massage Rin's feet while she rests back on the couch (he'd brush kisses on her ankle) and tell her how much he appreciates her and that she's amazing for working so hard, while Rin would massage Obito broad shoulders and back by having him lay down on the bed on his stomach - and she'd always massage him with her lingerie on~ and also brush kisses on his shoulders while she straddles him and whisper praises into his ear. It always ends up in the two of them being intimate, which is what they love.

-They even got all freaky in the shooting range, where Obito was showing Rin how to fire a gun, and then some sexual tension developed because he was standing behind her and holding her hand while the two of them were being as careful as they could, and after Rin landed a few good shots, she decided that this was a good time to get all touchy and nasty with each other, lol.

-Obito tends to visit Rin at her work whenever he can; and Rin gets teased by the nurses when her man stops by to visit her at her office in the hospital, and he's always holding a bouquet of flowers.

-Remember that Obito is by default, a very intimidating person who can scare criminals shitless during interrogations. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty in order to draw out the truth and answers that he needs. He's absolutely scary. Yet of course, only his favorite doctor gets to see his sweet and romantic side because they both make each other melt.

-Rin would always, always prepare a lovely bento for Obito to take with him to work before she gets ready for her day, because Obito loves her cooking and loves anything that makes him think of her in between dealing with stressful cases.

-Last but not least, they definitely, definitely, got freaky in each other's office - which is something Rin initiated because she's a kinky freak. They did it in Obito's office at the precinct, and they did it on her cot at her doctor's office in the hospital, because it's nice to have fun in the middle of work. And yes, they never get caught - although there were several occasions that almost did, hehe.

#obito x rin #obirin #modern au #headcanons #naruto shippuden #obito uchiha #uchiha obito #rin nohara #nohara rin

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tsukuyomii45 · 1 year

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Modern AU ObiRin HCs

Modern ObiRin Headcanons:

-They're technically the couple that are best friends who fell in love - the typical "marry your best friend" type of couple.

-Obito and Rin would split cooking with each other. That's right, Obito definitely knows how to cook! They both think that the other's cooking is better, lol

#obirin #obito x rin #obito uchiha #rin nohara #naruto shippuden #obito x rin headcanons #modern!au #police!obito #doctor!rin

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deepfriedseagullfeet · 2 years

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To brighten things up for your boys, what would be their IDEAL happiest day in the world? What would be the day they look back on to feel warm and soft any time they need comfort? :D (yes even Anti even though his will definitely be fucked up lol)

ooo i really like this question!! but im not sure how to answer because i feel like good days aren't planned, they just sorta happen! so heres a quick list of days that the boys have had that were special:

jackie went to a carnival with his parents as a teen, before his father passed and before the schizophrenia really set in. he played laser tag with his dad and scared the shit out of his mom by rocking the cart on the ferris wheel haha. tbh it wasnt fancy or big, but its something jackie looks back on fondly, especially when he wants to think of better times

marvin's first performance! they were still kinda an awkward kid who didnt know who they were or who they wanted to be, but after their mentor trained them on how to properly use their magic, they ended up becoming a performer with a big theater and they did a magic show! it was very nerve-wracking but everyone was raving at how cool their stunts were, and they got a huge burst of pride and confidence from that day

this is gonna sound lame, but probably when henrik got married :') at the time and for years to come, his wife was really the light of his life; she was so smart and witty and never ceased to fascinate him. it really was a perfect day where nothing really went wrong, just the two of them professing their love and eating way too much cake and drinking way too much wine and spending time with family and friends :)

the day anti met jameson was literally the best day of that parasites entire miserable life. like, he had nothing. no one to love him or care for him, no home, no stability, not even the courage to take jack's body. but then jack made him a present, something he's never received, and it was the best thing that was ever given to him. the moment anti laid eyes on jameson, he was in love and he finally had something to hold onto.

its hard to say for chase, he's had a rough life. but theres so many little moments from when he met jackie and henrik, moments where he was shown care and love despite feeling like a complete fuckup. i guess a good day would be the day he decided to quit drinking. he was getting to a point where he didnt want to hurt his family anymore, and even though it was really hard, he wanted to try, for people who actually not only gave a shit about him, but loved him to bits and pieces. that day set off a chain reaction of progress and healing for chase, and even to this day jackie tells chase how proud of him he is for taking that step

its hard to say for jameson as well. i think in the past, he would look to the days when he and anti were in their honeymoon phase, where anti was kind and loving and charming and wouldn't dream of hurting jameson. he loves that version of anti more than anything and looks back on those times when hes suffering and wants to excuse what anti does to him. i think nowadays however, he thinks less and less about anti and more and more about the new friends he's made. the dumb game nights, the late night bonfires, the movies they argue over watching, the hugs and i love you's they share. not to be too corny, but i think if jameson had to pic a singe day, it would be when he let his heart go soft once again and told henrik he loved him, and they kissed in the snow and jameson wasnt afraid.

#under a cut cause this got a bit long #but yesss despite hard times they do have plenty of good memories #i think its important to know that things get better for everyone day after day #and they make new memories together and find joy in each other :)#idk. big fan of a group of sad friends that turns into found family lol #ask #ego posting

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twinantithesis · 2 years

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Father to a half-existent family, and lean green-haired machine, I present...

Chase Ó Brennan!

Information and backstory under the cut! (tw mental illness, alcoholism, & suicide attempts)

Chase is 28, 5′10, and a cis bisexual man! He has a distinct scar on his head that he covers with his hair and hats.

Jack didn’t mean for things to go so badly when he created Chase. He had a whole lovely backstory planned out about a family man and boundless goofball to love and play with his other Creations. Jack planned to make Chase to make himself happier, a loving and kind littlest brother! But Jack was hurting, badly. Jack was dealing with mental illness, physical illness, and the onset of awful depression while trying to create Chase. Whether you call it by nature or by nurture, Jack’s mental state rubbed off more and more onto his Creation. Chase was born with a pistol in his hand, meant for protection and safety. But overwhelmed with every pain put into him hitting him all at once... The first action Chase took - before even opening his eyes - was shooting himself in the head.

Marvin and Jack were home and immediately called 999. Jack was distraught and inconsolable, so Marvin was the one to go to the hospital with him. Chase got lucky. That’s all the doctors could tell Marvin after 9 hours of surgery. The bullet tore through Chase’s brain and did cause damage, but by miracle it was as superficial as gunshot wounds to the head can be. Chase still needed to relearn complex speech and how to eat and walk.

While Chase was in the hospital, all he could ask about was a woman named Stacy. He wouldn’t stop asking to hold his baby from the moment he relearned speech. Marvin, alone without Jack to consult, had no idea what to do, except promise him he would see them soon. Jack eventually worked up the courage to visit, and explained to the both of them that Stacy and their baby, Greyson, technically do exist. But because of the backstory Jack created them with, appeared in America. Stacy also was created with next to no desire to see Chase. Jack explained that he ensured Stacy would be born with a cellphone that has Jack’s number. Stacy had called, confused and alone with no one but her baby, and Jack had explained it all and pre-paid the lease for a furnished apartment just for her. With no desire to see Chase and an ocean between them, Stacy only ever talked with Jack prior to Anti’s involvement.

Chase is a point of pain for Jack, the failure to protect his Creations, and yet, that has never once stopped them from being best friends! They hangout almost all the time as Chase goes through recovery. They cook, play video games, read manga, watch fantasy & sci-fi movies, go for walks around town, anything to spend time together. Jack disappearing affected Chase most of all, and he couldn’t understand why he’d leave; unlike the others who understood he had his reasons.

Marvin is Chase’s big brother the way Jackie is Heinrich’s. They’re best friends who have sworn their protection over each other on many fearful nights. They’ve always gotten on very well, which is odd for Marvin who was expecting another little annoyance to affectionately argue with. They act more loving and gentle with Chase throughout every angry outburst and emotional breakdown in Chase’s recovery.

Chase and Heinrich have the most stereotypical “big brother & little brother” relationship you can imagine. Shoving & pushing & arguing & protecting & teasing & caring for & just plain loving on each other with their whole hearts! Heinrich was VERY upset the doctors wouldn’t let him help with Chase’s care when he was first born and makes up for it by caring for every single cut, bump, cold, or cough Chase gets.

Anti sees Chase as the most pathetic vessel ever made available to him. He would possess Chase just to watch & revel in his dissociative, suicidal breakdowns afterwards. To Anti, Chase is a fun toy and not much more.

Chase remembers an entire lifetime, for better or worse. He was abused by his mother his entire childhood, dropped out of high school right before graduation, got in a van with $2,000 in stolen money from his mother, and never, ever went back. He met Stacy in Colorado and married her after only two years. They had Greyson when Chase was 25. Chase remembers moving temporarily to the UK for work and befriending Jack through a youtube event. Chase had had an awful drinking problem that he and Stacy were in a fight over when he left. Chase remembers spending over $8,000 on the trip and nearly $3,000 more on a business opportunity that fell out almost instantly. Stacy called and told him to not even bother coming home, she was selling their home, moving in with her sister and never plans to see him again. This was his last memory before being born, and Chase’s attempt was the fallout of this.

Chase loves comfort food and cooking for those he loves! If someone’s been injured or distressed, expect enough chili and biscuits and cupcakes and hardy stews to feed an entire army.

Chase has fibromyalgia and the constant pain is part of the reason he struggles with anger issues.

He’s in rehab for alcoholism, but still smokes.

He has a stutter and occasionally can’t think of the correct word for objects or emotions.

Chase is incredibly skilled with guns or projectiles and has consistently perfect aim.

#chase brody #septicart #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #jacksepticeye au #writers of jack #writersofjack #my art #jse chase #jse egos

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alaffy · 1 year

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Nancy Drew, 1x11 – The Phantom of Bonny Scot

Just out of curiosity (and I know I could looking this up) was the actor who played Ace also finishing up another job? I know sometimes actor’s who play main characters might, occasionally, disappear for an episode or two; but usually not during the first season.

Nancy has a dream that shows that she clearly is unsure of her feelings for Owen and Nick. At least, it’s clear she feels something for Owen; but she’s either not quite ready to face that her feelings for Nick have changed or feels guilt that they have changed. However, it doesn’t matter as there’s suddenly a loud pounding sound coming from the crawl space under the stairs. Nancy investigates, there’s a jump scare with Lucy, and Nancy wakes up.

Assuming Lucy isn’t actually interested in Nancy’s love life, Nancy goes downstairs and starts to rummage through the items under the crawl space. There she finds some of her mother’s old files from when she worked at the school as a guidance counselor. Unsurprisingly, one of those files is Lucy’s; but it’s empty. Scratch that, someone has purposely removed the papers from the file as there are fragments of torn paper left behind.

Nancy goes to visit Carson in jail. Nancy immediately starts apologizing and telling him she’ll show that he isn’t guilty; but he’s more concerned with how she’s doing. Nancy tells Carson about the file and asks if he knew why it was empty. Carson says he doesn’t as Nancy’s mom was very careful with her paperwork. And while Carson could be a good actor, it does seem like generally he’s surprised about the folder being empty. We learn after that Carson and his wife did share an office at home. What’s more, Everett Hudson did stop by the house, which means he could have taken the papers. But he would have destroyed them (which, I mean, he literally has stolen treasure kept in semi-secure areas; so I wouldn’t be so sure about that). Anyway, Carson wants Nancy to leave this alone. Nancy says she will if he fights this. They go back and forth. Scene ends.

Nancy goes to The Claw and finds Bess out front. Bess in excited/panicking because she’s been invited to have lunch with Aunt Diana that day. Meanwhile, George finds out the owners of The Claw are going to put the restaurant on the market as, mostly, the restaurant isn’t doing well. Outside, Nick is meeting with his court ordered counselor. It turns out it’s their last meeting. We also find out that Nick has been avoiding his parents, who are in Florida, since his time in prison.

Nancy goes to meet with Everette Hudson. She wants him to place a phone call to a judge and let him know what the money Carson was paid was actually for, as that is one of the main reasons he’s being held (still, wouldn’t explain the fingerprints Nancy). She knows he’ll want someone in return. Everett basically wants Nancy to stop Owen from “falsely claiming” his family had anything to do with the Bonny Scot sinking or that that they have any of the treasures. Or rather, he wants Nancy to do the job Carson normally would do; find out what evidence Owen has.

As Nancy is about to leave the house, however, Lucy leads her upstairs. There she finds a picture and there’s water leaking at the base of it. But here’s the interesting thing about the photo. It’s a portrait of Everette, Celia, and Ryan. The funny thing is, there is a huge gap between the parents and Ryan; almost as if there should be a person in between them. Sure enough, we see Dead Lucy in the painting for a moment. It means that probably somebody has been removed, but who?

Meanwhile, Bess shows Lisbeth her home and tells her more about herself. We find out she came to the US to be an Au Pair; but was fired for steeling. She can’t go back to London, but her Visa is expired. She’s hoping the Marvin’s can help her get a Green Card. But here’s the thing, if her mother is still a US Citizen and they can prove that her mother is a citizen; she wouldn’t need a Green Card. I mean, it’s still proving the mother’s citizen status and that Bess is her daughter (and probably the wonderful questions of why the mother didn’t report the birth to the US Embassy). I’m probably thinking about this too much.

Back at The Claw, George has called Ryan over to ask for his help. If he will front the money for The Claw, George is sure that she can get the business running with a profit again. Ryan asks why George doesn’t just go work somewhere else…well, it seems like the town isn’t exactly a fan of George’s family. Ryan, in the end, tells George he can’t because of what’s he’s got going on with his family.

In the locker room, Nancy and Bess talk about the impending lunch. Long story short, Nancy wonders if Owen will be at the lunch. Nancy tells Bess what Everette wants her to do. Now, Nancy isn’t planning on selling out Owen; but she hopes that she can get some leverage if Everette thinks she’s willing to do so. Bess is able to let Nancy know where Owen is. Nancy tries calling him one more time. As she sees him reject her call; she and Bess fallow him in Nancy’s car.

It turns out Owen has been avoiding Nancy because he’s been investigating the Bonny Scot and he’s found a survivor. Someone he was just about to meet with at the survivor’s apartment. The man was a stowaway (although he was probably a teenage at the time). He had paid one of the crew members to allow him to hide on the boat, so he could come to America. It was easy to hide, because the treasure never made it into the shipping containers on the boat. The reason this person, Bashiir, survived is because he happened to sneak above deck one night. When he was on deck, a bomb went off below deck. Then he made it to a life raft and when he was picked up by a fishing crew. He told them to drop him off where the boat was supposed to go. Of course, he didn’t tell anyone the truth because…well, he’s an undocumented Somalian and there is a good chance that he would immediately be viewed as a suspect. Bess and Owen suggest that, if there was someone who would help with his immigration status, then he could come forward in return. Understandably, he’s afraid as there’s a lot of risk involved here (and, let’s face it, it is extremely unlikely that his story would be believed at this point). Nancy sees water trickling down his walls and asks how his apartment got the water stains. At which point, the man asks them to leave.

Bess, of course, wants to help him as she does understand not wanting to be forced to leave. And on that note, she goes to the lunch with Diana. Nancy and Owen talk. Owen didn’t tell Nancy about the man because of what’s she’s been dealing with recently. It also seems to be foreshadowing that Owen isn’t going to be in Nancy’s life for the long run.

Back at The Claw, George opens up to Nick about why this place means so much to her. Basically, it’s been more of a home to George then her actual home. Nick suggests a party to remind the locals of why The Claw is such a big deal. He even offers to help for free. As much as these two characters are hanging out together, I’m guessing they’re going to hook up at some point?

The lunch with Diana seems to be going well. Diana wants to bring Bess into the family business and hopes that this young heiress they know will kind of mentor Bess. Well, there is one issue…maybe. They don’t mind Bess having fun with Lisbeth, but it can’t be more then that. Of course, they also think Lisbeth it just a driver; so opinions might change if the truth is known. Anyway, they want Bess to come to dinner tomorrow night.

Back at The Claw, oh wow, they’re having the party so soon? Um, gee, it would be better to give time for promotions, don’t you think? Uh, so George convinces Nick to add his name to one of the undersides of a table (it’s a thing) and they seem to be getting close; when Nancy walks in. George goes elsewhere and Nancy has a talk with Nick. Nancy feels like she’s a bad person because, while she isn’t going to turn over the witness to Everett, she has thought about doing so. Even if she could hide his identity, it would mean Everett gets away with killing twelve people. Nick lets her know that, if Nancy were a bad person, she wouldn’t be having these thoughts. Nancy also tells him about the water damage in the apartment. The thing is, the water is salt water; which seems like a Lucy thing. But it couldn’t be…unless it’s those who died on the ship. Nancy flashes to a clock in the apartment, which seems to have stopped at a specific time. Nancy says that she and Nick should go visit him. Which Nick agrees to. Of course, this means he just abandoned George to get ready for the party.

They go to the apartment and there is water running from under the doorway. Nancy manages to break open the door and she hear the Bashiir screaming and just a wave of water comes rushing out. But we see that part of the apartment is the Bonny Scot. It turns out Bashiir did try to save the crew, but…the door on the boat must have been locked as nobody seems to be able to open it. Does this mean someone from the crew set the bomb and locked in the crew? If so, they must have escaped somehow.

So, we find out that Bashiir has been haunted like this every night for three weeks. Which means that this is happening because of the séance. Nick and Nancy are able to convince Bashiir that if he wants to do right be those who died, as well as stop the hauntings, then the best thing Bashiir can do is let the authorities know the truth. Bashiir wants to show Nancy and Nick something. And now I’m lost. It turns out to be a fragment of the bomb. Which Bashiir said he used as a shield to protect himself from the fire when he broke out to escape the fire. But earlier he said he was on the deck and he knew it was a bomb because he grew up during a war. So, did he go back inside to get the men or….? It’s the Dues ex Machina thing again. He just so happens to have a piece of the bomb, but it doesn’t make sense that he would have it. Unless this is supposed to be suspicious.

The next day, Nancy calls Ryan and she tells him about her deal with Everett. Ryan doesn’t want to get involved, but it seems like Nancy isn’t really interested in Ryan. See, Ryan was driven there by Lisbeth and it’s very clear by the look Nancy and Lisbeth give each other; Nancy wants Lisbeth to know something. But, and I really have to ask this, if Lisbeth is working for the Hudson family why would Ryan even have this conversation within earshot of someone he thinks is loyal to his family? After all, he’s not paying her.

At The Claw, Nick realizes that George has been up all night getting ready for the party. Nick apologizes and George doesn’t want to hear it. She accuses him of hiding behind other people’s projects…which is sort of true? But at the same time, Tiffany was someone who cared about him and, of course, he’s going to want to deal with someone who may lead them to finding out what happened to her?

We’ve skipped to the dinner Bess was invited to. It’s a meal between the Marvins and the Hudsons that is nothing more then a bitch fest with vague threats. Suddenly, Nancy comes in and says she have business with Everett; she then announces to the room that Owen has found a survivor of the Bonny Scot. Nancy and Everett go into his office to talk. The families snipe at each other. Celia says the insurance money would be a pittance compared to what they actually would have made; so, there’s no reason for them to destroy the ship. Diana suggests that maybe Everett wanted to kill Sabastian because he was screwing Celia. Ryan is shocked and Bess is clearly cursing she ever took that DNA test.

Meanwhile, Nancy is with Everett. She lets him know about all of the evidence. Everett wonders what he can do to make this all go away. Nancy says that Bashiir just wants a retirement package and a Green Card. Everett says it can be done and he’ll also set up a new identity so Bashiir can’t be found. Nancy hands over an account number and Evertt, who you’d think would be savvy enough to want an ounce of physical proof, just decides to immediately wire over 2 million to the account. However, the account is a fake and Lisbeth is there to arrest him for the deaths of those on the Bonny Scot (Which, realistically, all you really have him on is impeding a police investigation. Maybe insurance fraud if they’ve found some of the missing items. But Everett wanting to hide Bashiir, while suspicious, isn’t concrete evidence that he had something to do with the bomb).

Anyway, Everett is arrested and Celia demands how he could let this happen. Everett said he should have left when he found out about the affair. Meanwhile, in the confusion, Nancy goes back to the painting upstairs. She feels around the corner and finds a hidden panel. Inside, are her mother’s missing documents about Lucy. (Knew he wouldn’t be smart enough to get rid of them). Nancy goes to her car and Owen catches up to her. It turns out that Owen was in on the plan all along. Good news, Owen is going to help Bashiir. And then Nancy and Owen share their first kiss. Owen asks if he can take her out, but Nancy refuses.

Back at the Hudson’s, Celia and Ryan are sitting outside while the police cart off several box from the house (also, there’s a maid cleaning inside, which…somehow I don’t think would be happening at that moment). Celia says Everett will be out soon, however Ryan tells her about the Grecian urn from the Bonny Scot. It’s clear he’s trying to make some sort of threat but, honestly, seeing as how the family seems to be keeping a number of these treasures just lying around…I have a feeling the police will run into something sooner or later. But let’s go with the threat. Ryan is going to try to take control of the company.

At The Claw, the party is a hit. Dawn, the owner, is impressed with what George has done. Still, it isn’t enough to change Dawn’s mind. In fact, she already has a buyer lined up. At Bess’ camper, Bess and Lisbeth admit that they’re falling in love with each other. Back at The Claw, we find out that Nick is the one who inquired about buying The Claw. The plan is Nick would go into partnership with George; fifty-fifty. However, since George doesn’t have the money, Nick will loan her the money and, once The Claw is making money again, she can pay Nack back.

Nancy is talking to her Dad on the phone. Nancy is hoping that, by stirring the hornets’ nest, she is forcing Carson to start defending himself in order to come back and keep Nancy safe. Carson says that he’ll call his lawyer. He can’t prove anything about Lucy. But there are things about the Hudson’s he can use to leverage a plea deal for now. Is Carson going to make is past the first season? (This is rhetorical, I already know the answer).

I like how we see, at the end of the episode, that Nick is staying with Bashiir in order to see if the ghosts come back. They do not. Which is great. Now, how is Bashiir going to explain the water damage to the apartment manager again?

Meanwhile, Nancy is going through Lucy’s file. Lucy says Celia is spreading rumors about her. Lucy says that, if her mother finds out, she’ll kill her. The thing is, Lucy sounds like she’s serious. So, could Lucy’s mother be the killer? (Most likely not. But we have seven more episodes, so we have to drag this out somehow).

Meanwhile, Celia calls someone on a cell phone and let’s them know she wants Carson silenced permanently. Then, Celia throughs the phone into the bay. Well, at least there’s one smart criminal in this show.

#nancy drew #ned nickerson #bess marvin #owen marvin #diana marvin #ryan hudson #celia hudson #everett hudson

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boricuacherry-blog · 1 year

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The Gay home evoked the aura of the Addams Family. The minute I walked through the door, I was uncomfortable.

Mother Gay was essentially a sweet lady but had little interest in me. I quickly saw that her main concern was the man who ruled over the household like a lord: Father.

Father Gay's presence - or absence - was always on Mother's mind. For long periods of time he remained in his upstairs bedroom, separate from Mother's. When he wanted something - a cup of coffee, a sandwich, a freshly ironed shirt - he rang a bell attached to a string. When he decided to make his grand appearance, it was always an event.

The first time I saw him I was shocked. In that instant, I knew why Marvin had been loathe to discuss him.

He came down the stairs with pink rollers in his hair. He wore a form-fitting shirt unbuttoned to expose his upper torso. It was not a pretty sight. The curlers were strange enough. But the white-toned panty hose under his plaid Bermuda shorts and the fact that he was wearing his wife's red flat sandals put him in a category all his own. I didn't know the name of that category. All I knew was that this man was beyond strange. Slight of build with undistinguished features, he was imperiously vain. He strutted like q peacock. He spoke like a trained actor. When he addressed me, he was courteous. But I was so freaked out by his appearance, I hardly heard his words.

Mother Gay called him Doc. He called her Babe and kept a notebook that critiqued her housekeeping. Surveying the house like a drill sergeant, he jotted down, "Dishes: dirty ... couch: dusty ... curtains: soiled." More disturbing than this, though, were the frequent female visitors who arrived at the house, and with Mother Gay's knowledge, paraded up to his bedroom. They were typically women from his church with big behinds.

"Father," Marvin's brother Frankie told me, "is a booty man."

When Father wasn't around, Frankie was also telling me the facts that Marvin had not been able to bring himself to describe - the gruesome details of the beatings that Marvin suffered as a boy.

"My sisters and I obeyed him," said Frankie. "That was the easiest way out. Why make him mad? But Marvin isn't made that way. You can't tell Marvin what to do. Mother spoiled Marvin early on, made him feel like he was a little prince. Well, the king might be the king, but the prince ain't listening to him. Making it even worse, the king is dressing up like a queen. He's wearing frilly blouses that look more suited for Mother than him. Sometimes we catch him wearing Mother's underwear. We hate that. We hate how he goes out in the streets with his hair in curlers. It's bad enough we can't go to any of the normal black churches where our friends go. We gotta go to his strange little church that tells us we can't dance or listen to rock 'n' roll. And we also gotta hear the taunts of our buddies calling him queer. We know that's not true. But we can't shout back and say, 'Hey, our dad likes women, 'cause we see 'em coming through the house.' We just gotta shut up and take it. That's rough, especially since we're always reminded that our last name is Gay. There were times, though, when we didn't take it. There were times when both me and Marvin had to fight to defend our father's honor. After one nasty fight where Marvin got his nose bloodied and Father asked him why, Marvin just came out and said it. He told him that he looked like a homosexual and that he was bringing shame to all of us."

"How old was Marvin when this happened?" I asked.

"Nine or ten."

"What did your father do?"

"He beat the holy hell out of him. Only this time it was different. This time he locked him in our room and made him wait there for an hour. While Marvin waited, Father kept snapping his belt against the door so Marvin could think about what was about to happen. It was like torture.

'"You got one chance to get outta this,' Father said. 'You gonna come out here and apologize to me and everyone else in this family, or I'm coming in after you.'

"Marvin shouted back, 'You're the one who should be apologizing! You're the one going round looking like a queer.'

"That did it. Father went in after him. But this beating was different. Not only did he give him a whipping, but he tore off all his clothes beforehand. It was a struggle. Marvin fought back, but he was only a kid. He couldn't fight off a grown man. Father overpowered him, he beat Marvin butt naked, not just with the leather belt but with the buckle as well. He tore into his skin and left these big welts. Then Father made him stay home from school for weeks 'cause he was scared the teachers at school might see the marks on Marvin's back and call social services. After that, you'd think Marvin would learn - as I did- not to answer back. But he never learned that. No matter how bad the beatings, Marvin never backed down."

"But it wasn't just Father. It was an uncle of ours who actually molested Marvin. When Marvin told Father about it, Father didn't believe him. But I knew Marvin was telling the truth. I saw it happen. I wanted to stick up for Marvin, but I was afraid of Father. We all were."

I was happy to escape the oppressive atmosphere there. On a few occasions Marvin took a break from touring to visit his family and me. I noticed how he and Father assiduously avoided each other. Father rarely left his room. When he did come downstairs, Marvin got up and left. Few words were exchanged. The atmosphere was ice cold. Not even the smallest hint of affection. I was happy to escape the oppressive atmosphere there. Compared to the Gays, my mom seemed perfectly sane.

-Janis Hunter

#marvin gaye #gay family #marvin gay sr #jan gaye #quote #janis hunter

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ijwrff · 3 years

Note

If you are taking requests, May I have a Yandere Anti fic? Maybe one where the reader is hella shy and a big history nerd(like myself 👉👈)and they like rocks,sticks,and are basically Goblin brained? Thank you 👉👈

I can’t remember if this was before or after I opened requests so I wrote it anyways XD hope you enjoy!

You were anxious. You always got anxious meeting new people, but you knew you had to meet him. Anti. He was the last septic you had to meet. You’ve even met Angus at this point.

You’d been friends with Jackie first, after he helped you when someone tried to steal your wallet. He saved you, and you were grateful for him. Since then, you’ve met the rest of his family. All but Anti.

He was rarely home, always busy doing something. The others have warned you he can be...difficult to get along with. Which only served to make you more anxious about your meeting.

Jackie pulled you out of your thoughts, “It’ll be okay! He’s a softie at heart.” He knew of your anxiety meeting new people, and gradually introduced you to the members of his family. You were anxious to meet all of them, but they all responded well and eased your anxieties. All of them you’ve met have been kind and understanding.

“He’s an asshole, don’t lie. Lying will only make them more anxious.” Marvin pitched in, and successfully made your anxiety worse.

“Um...I don’t know if I can do this…” You didn’t want to skip out on meeting Anti, but the septics weren’t helping.

Jackie put his hand on your shoulder, “It’ll be fine! If he’s mean to you I'll speak up. You don’t have to meet him alone, we’re here for you!” He was ready for you to meet his last brother, even if he could be mean at times. Jackie truly believed he was a good person, but he would admit he could be cruel at times. If he was mean to his friend...he wouldn’t remain quiet.

Jackie, Marvin, JJ and Robbie were there with you. Angus was away on his latest adventure, and Schneep was working. Chase was out with his kids, or he’d be there with you too.

JJ seemed almost as anxious as you...apparently they’ve had a lot of fights in the past. He confided in you about them, and it fueled your anxiety. If Anti could get into bad fights with his own family...what if he had fights with you?

Before you could leave the front door opened...and there he stood. Adorned with ripped black jeans and a solid black shirt. His green hair flowed, and you couldn’t help but think...he’s gorgeous.

You decided to speak first, “did you know turkeys were revered as gods by the mayan people?” Shit...you got nervous and gave a fun history fact instead of introducing yourself again. “Um...sorry. I really like history. I’m y/n.” You held out your hand to shake his, but he didn’t move.

Awkwardly you pulled your hand back, but he reached out and grabbed it at the last minute. “Anti.”

“Welcome back!” Jackie pulled him into a hug, and it looked like Anti wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

“Oh! I got you a gift!” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a shimmering green rock. It was how you showed your love, giving your friends rocks that remind you of them. You thought it would be a good gift to give to Anti.

He reached out and took the rock. “Thanks.” He kept his responses short and sweet, and the others looked surprised that he even said thank you. Apparently he wasn’t one to do such.

“I’m going to my room, don’t bother me.” Without another word, Anti left to go to his room.

“Well…” Jackie started once Anti was gone, “that could have been a lot worse.”

“Told you he was an ass.” Marvin got up from his chair and walked away.

“Do you...think he doesn’t like me?” You voiced your worries and Jackie instantly reassured you.

“He doesn’t like a lot of people, he just needs to get to know you more!” He gave you a smile then went to the kitchen to make lunch for you all.

JJ smiled at you before walking to his own room, leaving you with Robbie.

“He...not good about feelings.” You smiled at Robbie, pulling him into a hug.

“Thanks Robbie.” You knew he was just trying to comfort you. You pulled away from the hug and followed him to the tv so you could play videogames together.

That was a couple weeks ago. And since then, you’ve given Anti sticks, rocks, and shiny things. It was how you expressed your feelings. And for some reason...Anti hasn’t left again. It seems like whenever you were at the septics house, he was there too.

You found yourself visiting more often than usual, enjoying the time you got to spend with Anti. Today was different though...he seemed more...on edge.

“Anti...is something wrong? You seem distant…” You had grown more comfortable with him since visiting more, and you wouldn’t lie...you were developing a crush on the septic.

“No. Drop it.” That made you even more concerned.

“Are you sure…? I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.” You just wanted him to know you were someone safe to confide in.

He grunted and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards his room.

“Anti...why are we going to your room?” Maybe he wanted to be out of the open to open up. He didn’t confide in his brothers much from what you could see...maybe he didn’t want to talk about it when they could walk in at any moment.

He opened the door and pulled you inside. It was the first time seeing his room. It reflected him a lot, many dark colors. But what surprised you was all of the items you’ve given him out on display. You honestly didn’t think he’d keep them. But apparently he valued the gifts, enough to display them on his desk.

“You...stop caring about me. It’s dangerous for you.” He wouldn’t deter you that easily.

“I can’t. And even if it’s dangerous...i’d like to stay friends.” Even if you secretly wanted more.

“What if I don’t want to be friends?” The words broke your heart, and he saw the pain on your face, instantly continuing, “I want to be more. But I’ll hurt you. I know I will.”

“I can handle it. I can make my own decisions.” You looked up at him, determined.

“Tch...you’re not very good at making decisions then.” He had yet to let go of your arm, and you thought he might just enjoy the contact.

You reached over and held his hand, “What if I choose you?”

He grunted, and pulled you over to the bed, laying you down and hovering over you. “You shouldn’t. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“Then tell me...what makes you so dangerous?”

He didn’t respond, and leaned down, lips connecting with your neck. It made you gasp, and a blush crawled onto your face.

“Anti…” he growled at the word.

“Don’t say my name like that…I can’t be held responsible for the consequences.” He bit your neck gently, and you almost laughed at how gentle he was being.

“You have to tell me what makes you so dangerous.”

“If you were mine...you’d be mine and only mine. I wouldn’t let anyone else look at you. I’d mark you so everyone knows you’re mine.” He bit harder, before sucking on the skin gently, effectively giving you a hickey.

“What if I want to be yours anyways?” You felt bold for just a moment, and the words came out before you could stop them.

Anti growled once again and leaned back, taking a good look at your red face before leaning back down and pulling you into a kiss.

It was passionate, and more gentle than you thought possible. You kissed back with the intent of showing your feelings through it. Still...it made your face red. You were kissing your crush, of course you’d be red in the face.

“I want you...but if we do this...you can’t be with anyone else. You have to be mine. I don’t even want my brothers around you. I want you to be mine.”

“Then do it...make me yours.” You leaned up and pulled him into another kiss, this one rougher than before.

You would be his...forever. He would never let you go. He meant every word. You would be his and only his.

#antisepticeye x reader #yandere anti x reader #yandere antisepticeye x reader #x reader

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spilledkauffie · 3 years

Text

Dating Sam Wilson HCs

Sam deserves some love— he just radiates comfort ❤︎

Coffee shop dates— Sam likes taking you fun places, usually with a chill and relaxing atmosphere. So, something you’ve both come to love is looking for small local coffee shops you can spend the afternoon at. Usually it takes a smidge of a road trip, but that’s part of the fun! *Little sandwich shops are also a favourite, with a nice outside sitting area, you’ll just stay and talk for hours. One time you did get rained out and had to eat lunch in his car after booking it to the parking lot. Sam held his jacket over your head as you made a b-line in the rain together. It’s a great memory though!

↳ it’s always precious to you when a kid comes up and asks if he’s The Falcon from the Avengers; Sam gives an apologetic look to you when more than one person comes up to him, because he doesn’t want to flaunt it or take away from your time together, but you just bite the inside of your lip and smile happily, finding it absolutely adorable. When he gives you a “what?” You shake your head smiling, “nothing,” / “mhmm, something you just don’t want to tell me.” Sighing your give in, “you’re just really good with kids, that’s all.”

Being worried about his missions— he’s literally surrounded by danger, so of course you worry about him. You don’t doubt that he can handle a lot, it’s just the world is getting tougher and more dangerous with enhanced individuals or aliens, wizards, and androids coming into play. “You don’t think I can do this?” He asks, sincerely. “You fight with your heart, and I love that more than anything, but they don’t,” you say honestly, “and that’s what scares me most.” He kisses your forehead and promises that he’ll always come back home to you.

Goodbye kisses— if you’re headed off to work you stop to give him a quick peck on the cheek, but of course he catches you by the waist, pulling you into his lap, giving you a “nuh-uh, that is not a goodbye kiss,” you roll your eyes, trying to wriggle out of his arms, “Sam, I gotta go, I’ll be late,” / “yeah and what if I fall outta bed and knock myself out, that’s the last kiss you want us to share?” You pause your attempt to get free and look at him with a dead pan, “that is not going to happen-“ / “but if it did?” He raises his eyebrows and gives a head tilt. “Fine,” you smile, going in for an actual kiss. “Mhmm, that’s the good stuff,” Sam says, setting you back on your feet.

Groovy slow dancing— in the middle of the living room, Sam puts on his record player and you get close to Marvin Gaye’s song Let’s Get It On. You usually wind up laughing at Sam’s over dramatic lip syncing while he holds you close. When he goes for those high notes, you can’t help but laugh, burying your face against his chest. He finally breaks character, laughing at himself along with you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing his temple to yours as you both laugh. But seriously, its so much fun, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. It just radiates positive and cute vibes.

Talking about each other’s day in bed— at the end of the day, you’re almost always the first one in bed, waiting on him. When he joins you, lying on his side facing you, he props himself up on his elbow. “And how was your day, gorgeous?” he asks, looking down. With your head on your pillow, you roll onto your side, looking up through your eyelashes at him, stroking a pattern against his bare chest or bicep, you start talking about your day together. He’s an excellent listener, seriously. He doesn’t hit you with counsellor mode either, it’s true and genuine.

↳ if you’ve had a bad day BE PREPARED, it’s all comfort and fluff from the moment you start to express it wasn’t that great of a day. “This guy at work…,” you start, shaking your head and glancing away, immediately Sam’s stroking your side with his fingertips, he’s really big on sincere physical comfort, “I don’t know, I guess he just got to me,” you swallow, trying to remain calm even though it still upsets you. “And how are you doing now? Still thinking about it?” Sam asks. Shrugging you look up with teary eyes, “c’mere babygirl,” Sam opens his arms, waiting for you to shift a little closer so he can totally cradle you, kissing your temple.

FLYING— oh yes, he’s taken you up before. Unsure at first, you kept asking if it was safe, “honey, I gotchu, I’m not gonna drop you, I promise,” he half laughs at how much you were overthinking it, but also wants to let you know he’ll keep you safe. When you’re comfortable enough, you agree. Wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, you feel him wrap an arm around your waist securely, and you’re off. You swear you’ll never get used to it though.

Learning how to drive a the boat— basically you were talked into it. When you came to visit Sarah he wound up getting the boat to run and was super excited to teach you how to drive it. A little nervous, you made sure he was right behind you, hand on top of your hand on the steering wheel and speed control.

↳ you were super hesitant about it, going incredibly slow, until Sam started shifting it a little faster. Naturally you leaned tensely back against his chest as he guided your hands, assuring you, saying “you’re good, I got you, we’re just getting up to speed.” It was all good until a bird flew super low in front of the boat and you completely let go of everything, covering your eyes and burying your face in his chest. Luckily, he kept his hands on all the controls, but of course he lovingly teased you with, “Oh my goodness… babe we could have died with you just wavin’ your hands off the controls,” you relaxed bearing his tone, placing your palms against his chest, but he wasn’t done yet, “did Scuttle scare you?”

Hanging out with Sarah & learning family memories— she 100% spills all the embarrassing childhood memories of Sam. She’s even got family photo albums including pictures from Halloween and Christmas of Sam entirely embracing the seasons. Sam has a lot of confidence, so he tries to embrace every ridiculous photo Sarah shows. “Sarah, you have to get me a copy of this one,” you giggle leaning into her, the minute she sees it she laughs too. “Yeah, yeah, what’s so funny?” Sam asks, before you turn around a picture of him with swimming goggles and inter-tube arm floaties shaped like little wings, a sudden shock comes over his face, “your first set of wings,” you smile through a laugh.

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angstsfordays · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Pain (4)

Chapter Four- Now or Never

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Your supposed ally leads you to an unlawful nation where danger lurks at every corner. Bucky starts to see you in a different light.

Warnings: Sexual objectification. Very bad undercover work. Calling Sam daddy. Sexual innuendos.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I am very humbled that people have been enjoying the story and liking it so far! This means to me a lot as a novice writer! ☺️

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, felt like I got more to expand for the Madripoor episode. I love to know what y’all think of it so far! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Five

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As Zemo made arrangements on his end, you did not know what to expect. You, Sam and Bucky were brought to the tarmac of a small private airport, your attention was brought to the private plane that Zemo was leading you towards.

Sam made a comment on Zemo’s wealth and the latter explained that he was practically royalty before the Avengers destroyed his country. Touché.

You took the seat right across from Zemo and you couldn’t help but put your guard up around the man. He could sense the tension all over your face and offered champagne to which you declined. You wanted to make sure you were fully sober around this guy.

As you looked on at the exchange he had with his steward, he almost looked decent for a moment. You wouldn’t have thought of this guy to be a manipulative and scheming man that caused that chain of events many years ago.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell.” Zemo started off after having a sip of his champagne. He then paused in his actions as he looked over all of you and corrected him.

“Oh that’s right, you all do. My apologies.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms as you leaned into the comfort of the plush aeroplane seat.

Sam tried to get Zemo to start talking but the baron brushed it off for a moment as he looked at a book in fascination. As Zemo brought up a familiar notebook, he asked who Nakajima was.

Your eyes perked up at the familiar name and you immediately turned to look at Bucky who instantly pounced on Zemo and grabbed him into a chokehold. Bucky warned him not to touch his notebook or he would actually kill Zemo, probably with his bare hands.

As Bucky settled down in his seat once more, you gave him a knowing look but he averted his eyes to avoid eye contact. The conversation then took a more light-hearted turn as Sam tried to describe how Steve noted down his suggestion of the Trouble Man soundtrack in the notebook that now was passed onto Bucky.

Sam asked if Bucky liked it too and the super-soldier replied that he liked 40’s music to which Sam look almost offended that Bucky didn’t share his taste in music. Bucky looked like he didn’t even want to bother but he clarified that he indeed liked it just to get Sam to back off.

Zemo decided to join in the conversation and put his two cents. Sam was surprised at how Zemo managed to eloquently describe the music style. Afterwhich, Sam went on to say how everyone loved Marvin Gaye while Bucky agreed that he did too.

Sam added that Steve adored the singer too. Hearing this, Zemo commented that Bucky must have looked up to Steve very much.

Yes, we all did. You wanted to add that in too.

Zemo, however, then took the liberty of giving his view on Steve. He talked about how dangerous it could be to idolize super soldiers like Steve and start to disregard their flaws, thus allowing him to not be held accountable for the repercussions that stem from his actions. Even if that meant the formation of movements, the fighting of wars, the loss of innocent lives.

Sam gave him a warning to better stop talking but Zemo continued on. When Zemo noticed how you started shaking your head in dissatisfaction, he gave a light chuckle before speaking directly to you.

“Miss Y/N. Contrary to my own personal views on enhanced individuals, I do find you fascinating, The files I read on you only make me more curious. Can I ask some questions?” You could feel the attention being put on you in the room and you grew slightly uncomfortable.

“What do you want?” Hoping to act nonchalant to mask your nervousness, you crossed your legs and leaned back into your seat.

“You have no family history. You grew up in an orphanage, am I right?” Nodding at the facts he laid out, Zemo carried on.

“You couldn’t have possibly been experimented on. You have gotten into any accidents?” You shook your head in response.

“Chemical exposure, radioactive bites, cosmic ray exposures….those are the possibilities that an ordinary person could obtain superhuman abilities according to the theories online.” Unimpressed, you continued to shake your head at him.

“Tell me. I’m curious.” You couldn’t entertain the likes of him but seeing how he was leaning in to wait for your answer, you gave an indifferent expression before speaking.

“It appeared out of nowhere. Someone committed arson in the local convenience shop where I was at the time. I was trapped with the elderly shopkeeper and I thought we were both going to die. A burning beam was falling onto us and I thought that was the end. I suddenly emitted a burst of energy that managed to put own the fire and incinerate the beam into ashes.” As you retold your story, memories of your fear from that time came back.

“The shopkeeper lost consciousness but I saw everything. I wasn’t sure if it was me but I ran away. I couldn’t’ return to the orphanage because I was afraid the police would find me. I lived on the streets for a week before my powers manifested again.” Your eyes fall to your fidgety hands, cracking your knuckles as it gave you some sort of relief.

“A kid was crossing the street without his mum knowing and a car was speeding on the road. I tried to reach out and pull him back in but the car was just inches away from us both. I caused a scene that couldn’t be ignored. S.H.I.E.L.D managed to find me and took me in.” Zemo’s eyes were tracking your every movement and expression in a way that Bucky didn’t like. As if you were something up for display and Bucky put his foot down.

He was getting protective of you and did not want Zemo to harbour any hidden intentions. Who knew what Zemo was thinking of?

Zemo spoke up before Bucky had the chance.

“Fascinating just fascinating. It’s like your powers had been dormant inside you all along. Are you even human?”

“Last time I checked, my blood is still red.” Your sarcastic response earned a laugh from Zemo and he stroked his chin as he continued to observe you quietly. Sensing he had more thoughts in his mind, you returned the questions back to him.

“You hate enhanced individuals so much, would you get rid of me if you had the chance?” Growing a smirk, Zemo wasn’t expecting you to ask him that and he was more than eager to give his reply.

“I am undecided, but you’re different. I can see you are more discreet than the others, just like Bucky over here.” Zemo made his final remark before he moved on to talking about the location that you were headed.

His words sunk in and you kept on thinking about how he hit the nail on the head.

Yes, you had to be more discreet. You could never proudly show off what you had, instead, you had to keep yourself hidden in order to protect yourself.

Recalling your S.H.I.E.L.D days, you remembered how you were told to keep your powers on a low profile by Director Fury himself.

Your lab results came back and it was discovered that you had a special gene in your DNA that could be identified. There weren’t any references or connections to existing research and findings so you were viewed almost as an abnormality.

It was then later discovered that your powers were connected to your life force and if you ever over-exerted yourself, you could possibly die. That almost happened back during the civil war between the Avengers. It was the first time you ever used your powers on a larger scale and you had even passed out at the end of the battle.

You remembered waking up in a hospital bed on the raft.

When you found refuge in Wakanda, you got to learn more about your powers with Shuri’s help. She believed as long as you trained your stamina and built up your strength, you could control your powers without ever worrying about being drained. That’s how you found yourself the privilege to receive special training with the Dora Milajae under King T’Challa’s request.

You definitely owed the Wakandans big time.

Seeing how you were uncharacteristically down, Bucky wanted to check in with you out of concern. However, he chose to restrain himself, thinking that you probably one to be left alone. He wished he could do more for you like you do for him.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Before you knew it, you landed in Madripoor. An island nation that was lawless and dangerous, yet home to the darkest of black markets and underground businesses. Zemo said that all of you could not go in as yourselves and had to basically go in undercover.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter when Sam changed and came out in a fancy printed suit. He was to act as a real life promiscuous and rich man who really could have been his doppelgänger when you saw a picture of the man.

However, you weren’t one to laugh when Zemo asked you to act as one of Conrad Mack aka Smiling Tiger’s fling for the night. When you first received your outfit, you threw it back in Zemo’s face.

You were not the most comfortable with sexy and revealing clothing personally so you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing it at all. Zemo tried to convince you that Smiling Tiger’s women were all of a certain type so you had to go through with it in order to fit in.

Letting out a groan, you snatched the little champagne dress with an open keyhole back. The front was designed to give a loose look that shyly reveals your cleavage. The dress held onto your shoulders with thin straps and it overall gave the impression of a silk slip dress.

When you put it on, you wiped your clammy hands on the silk material and grimaced at how it barely covered your ass. You were grateful that the shoes you received had thick block heels as you had forgotten how to even walk in high heels anymore.

Swiping on the red lipstick for the final touch, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves as you looked in the mirror. You got this.

Stepping out of the changing room, you were met with the full attention of all three men and you put a finger up to warn them of making any unneeded comments.

“Damn Y/N. I mean this in the nicest way possible but this is an entirely different look for you. In a good way, of course.” Sam tried to compliment you seeing that you weren’t fully into your outfit.

“Thanks, Sam.” You knew his intentions were always pure and good, so you didn’t mind it much. As he and Zemo went off to discuss something, you saw that Bucky was still looking at you intently. He must think you look weird, you thought.

In all the years that Bucky have known you, it was the first time he has seen you looking like this. You always had gone for casual and comfortable looks in your daily life. The only time he has seen something different was when you put on your tailored suits for formal events.

He had to do a double-take when he saw how the little dress number hugged your figure in the right places.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t continue looking but his eyes fleeting quick glances when you were looking elsewhere. He always felt that you were one of the most beautiful people he knew on the inside, the fact that you could look past what he did and accept him for he was. He never felt that he had to pretend to be fine when you’re around because you were there to accept him for better or worst.

Seeing you now stirred up a different feeling inside of him. Why did you suddenly seem so attractive this time? He did not want to be that guy who viewed women differently because of the way they dressed. In fact, he was never the kind to like someone because of the way they look but more of how they make him feel.

However, observing how bashful and shy you look in front of him, Bucky suddenly felt rather nervous himself. He saw you taking a step towards and he swore his breath hitched as his mind was registering this scene in slow-motion.

Your hands came up to put his dog tags inside his black shirt before going for the zipper of his jacket. Your eyes fleetingly met his for a moment before you started saying something.

Bucky wasn’t able to process it as he was entirely focused on how you were casually helping him as you normally did, but his mind can’t help but think of it as an intimate gesture.

You continued to buckle up the belts of Bucky’s harness and couldn’t help but to relish in the act of caring for him. This was probably the only time you could fulfil your feelings of wanting to be close to him without crossing the line.

“All done.” Once you have adjusted the straps on his shoulder to make sure they were comfortable, you glanced to see Bucky looking down at you in a daze.

“Hey Buck, you there?” Calling for his attention, Bucky snapped back to reality as he saw you staring at him with a curious doe-eyed look. Clearing his thought, Bucky scrambled to recall what you had said and just continued looking at you in question.

You went on to ask if the straps were comfortable to which he nodded curtly. You grinned in satisfaction for a short moment before it fell into a tight-lipped smile.

“Bucky, are you really ok to go into character? I know how hard you worked to get away from all of that.” Implying how he had to act like the Winter Soldier for this undercover mission, Bucky took a deep breath before answering you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just for this mission.” You just silently nodded at his words before signalling that you two should get a move on.

-------------------------//---------------------------

All of you were heading to Low Town as Zemo named to find his informant, Selby. Zemo reminded everyone to stay in character regardless of the situation, if not the mission would be compromised and your lives could be at risk.

Zemo gave you a personal warning to avoid using your powers if possible. If your powers were revealed publicly, there was a high chance you were at a bigger risk than the rest because people would want to take you for their own.

It was not every day an enhanced individual with superpowers walks into Madripoor and you would definitely become a prize to be coveted.

You were first greeted by the hustle and bustle of the nightlife crowd. The neon signs lit up the incredibly dark streets followed by the loud booming music that could be heard from some of the places that you passed. Your eyes were focused on Zemo’s back as he led all of you to the location, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else.

Entering the crowded bar, you could hear Zemo speaking Russian to Bucky. You weren’t familiar with the language but you could make out one world, Soldat.

Sneaking your arms around Sam who was caught off, you gave me a pointed look that told him that the undercover work starts now. He gave you a brief nod before rolling out his shoulders and you pressed yourself closer to him, putting your acting face on.

All of you stood by the bar where the bartender greeted all of you.

“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender nodded to Sam. His eyes moved over to meet yours before greeting you, Miss. You gave your best smile in return.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo told the bartender. You could see the shift in his eyes and saw someone from out of the corner of your eye moving away. Shifting your stance, the bartender didn’t acknowledge Zemo’s words and glanced back to you again.

“New face?” His comment was directed towards Sam but seeing how Sam was hesitating, you realised that he hadn’t had much experience with undercover work at all. He was a military man not a spy or agent after all.

“Hopefully, the last.” You giggled shyly and looked up to Sam with an affectionate gaze before giving the bartender a wink.

The bartender nodded curtly before asking Sam (Smiling Tiger) if he wanted his usual. Sam nodded silently in an efforts to prevent himself from doing anything out of character.

You caught Bucky looking at you as he leaned sideways on the counter. Your silent exchange was a way for you two to check in with each other and a brief smile mirrored on both of your faces before you turn to see the bartender taking out a snake from a big jar.

Trying to control your expression at the disgust coming up your throat, you subtly swallowed heavily at the sight of how the bartender slit the snake open. Sam who had his back turned for a brief moment was shocked to see what was presented on the counter in front of him.

Zemo tried to continue to put on the act and acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Your global knowledge and several visits to Asia made you realised why this was the Smiling Tiger’s favourite. Snakes infused into wine was touted to be an aphrodisiac to help a man increase, ahem, stamina.

Bucky felt almost bad for Sam and looked away briefly. You could see Sam gulping down nervously when the bartender added the finishing touch to the drink and you gently rubbed his arm for emotional support.

“I love these.” Sam managed to say through gritted his teeth and clinked his glass with Zemo. Your own bile almost resurfaced and you quickly turned your head to hide your nervous gulp.

Putting up a thumbs up awkwardly, you wanted to facepalm when the bartender looked back at Sam with a dubious expression.

You knew you needed to do something so everyone’s covers won’t be blown. Putting on a sly smirk, you let a hand move up Sam’s chest slowly and sensually before resting it where his heart was.

“Looks like you and I will be in for a long night.” Adding a slight giggle, you pretended to act shy after you spoke your words. Sam was trying his hardest to not look bewildered at your act while Bucky was trying to suppress a sudden wave of annoyance that washed over him.

He knew that this was an act but he still didn’t like it for some reason. He had to admit that he was not expecting you to get into character so well, seeing that this image you were presenting was the furthest cry from who you actually were.

The bartender looked slightly less suspicious of all of you before he went away. You could feel Sam heaving a sigh of relief beside you and you did the same alongside him.

Another man came up to Zemo, telling him of how he was unwelcomed in the area. Zemo putting up a cool façade, explained he had no business with someone named the power broker. Zemo restated his business here once more before the guy left.

Zemo explained that the power broker runs Madripoor and it was best you all stayed under his radar. Moments passed before another guy came up behind Zemo and Zemo turned to Bucky talking in Russian once more.

The instant the man placed his hands on Zemo, Bucky went into winter soldier mode. Everyone’s attention was directed to the scene happening. The whirling sound of Bucky’s vibranium was heard clearly as he was nearly crushing the man’s hands and went ahead to knock him over.

More and more people started to gather fool’s courage to take on Bucky. You saw how he easily took down everyone with barely any sweat.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo commented to you and Sam, and in all honesty, you wanted to choke him like what Bucky was doing to another guy on the bar’s counter.

Hearing the continuous clicking of guns from everyone in the bar, your senses were now alert at the possibility of having to break character and use your powers.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered into your ear and grabbed onto your hand before you could even think of doing anything.

Zemo got Bucky to back down and the bartender told you all that Selby was ready for your visit. Sam checked in with Bucky to which he responded with a curt nod.

As you made your way along the back end of the bar, you could see the stacks of cash all over a table and the armed guards that filled up every corner of the room.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t come into my bar and make demands.” Selby turned out to look like what you would imagine her to be. She sat comfortably on her couch with a dominant presence and seemed like she was not someone easy to deal with.

Zemo tried to reassure her that he was making offers not demands to quell her mood. Selby asked how Zemo was able to escape from prison and Zemo replied smugly on how people like them always found a way.

As Zemo tried to shift focus onto the order of business, Selby wasn’t still into it. Making a comment about Sam’s taller than usual height, Sam not knowing what to respond just nodded in silence.

She even purred at him teasingly before her eyes landed on you.

“Who’s this pretty little thing you have here? Where are you from?” Selby’s eyes narrowed in as you sense everyone starting to look flustered by the unexpected question. You were just meant to play a background character but didn’t expect the sudden attention.

Biting your lips into a furtive grin, you snaked your hands around Sam’s biceps. “Daddy picked me up from the club that I was working at. He says I am his one and only now.”

The men all tried to stop their jaws from dropping to the floor at your sweetly coy act. Who were you?

“Hmm…” Selby hummed while she looked you up and down. “You can do better, sweetie,” Selby remarked smugly before giving a subtle gesture to herself.

Lips forming into an ‘o’, you feigned a surprised reaction at the flattery. You tried to send a flirtatious look back so that Selby would be in a better mood.

Your act was rewarded when Selby grinned wider and asked Zemo for his offer. In exchange for information on the super-soldier serum, Zemo was willing to trade Bucky in pretence. He added how he would give Selby the codes word to control Bucky, treating him like an object.

A wave of anger started rushing through you as the scene unfolded and you glanced to see how Selby became more intrigued.

“Hmm, I have plenty of strong men already working for me. What else can he offer?” Zemo was taken aback by Selby’s words, thinking that she would already be interested in Bucky.

As the men were grappling to come up with a good response, you went on your first instinct and spoke up.

“Well he is rather handsome, isn’t he?” Everyone’s focus turned onto you and you took a breath to continue as Selby gave you an expecting look.

“Not as handsome as my daddy here but-” Walking around Sam, you headed towards Bucky who was trying to look unbothered but dying of curiosity on what you were about to do.

“He seems like fun to play with.” You purred as you gazed at Bucky’s profile. You gestured for Bucky to face you and could see how he was still staying in character. Running your fingers down his five o'clock shadow, your eyes glinted as you batted your lashes flirtatiously before looking over your shoulder back at Shelby.

“You can’t help but imagine having a good time with him. Super soldier serum should have some perks, no?” Your hidden innuendo was loud and clear to everyone in the room. If this didn’t appeal to Selby, you didn’t know what will.

Sam was trying his hardest to maintain his expression as he couldn’t believe his ears. Never in a million years would he think the sweet and innocent Y/N he knew actually dared to speak like that.

Bucky did his best to tighten his jaw and continue his stoic facade to hide the shock from what you had just said.

Never did he thought you would take the situation to such a turn. Your improv was unexpected and he couldn’t believe the woman in front of him was actually you.

Your sudden bold and cheeky persona was doing something to him. Your innuendo about him started to make him feel hot in his ears. Bucky had to clench his fist tightly to get himself to hold it together as he felt his heart racing out of nowhere.

He didn’t know what was happening to him but he knew you were having some sort of effect on him.

“Of course, that’s my silly opinion.” Turning to face Selby with a mischievous smile to keep up your character, you noted her looking at you thoughtfully as she rubbed her chin.

“Not just pretty but you’re witty, aren’t you?” Selby noted as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. Satisfied with your input, Selby then revealed what she knew about the super-soldier serums.

Apparently, there was a doctor, Dr William Nagel who has been helping the power broker to create the serums here in Madripoor. When Zemo tried to probe further about Nagel’s location, Selby decided that Zemo was overstepping.

In the very next moment, you could hear a vibration of a phone and saw Sam reaching out to his jacket.

Great, all of your covers might be blown. Selby demands that Sam answered it on speaker. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. To carry on the act, Sam reluctantly proceeded to answer the phone.

A woman’s voice came up and in the next sentences spoken, you realised that she was his sister, Sarah. Oh boy, this wouldn’t end well. You closed your eyes in prayer as you hoped it can go over smoothly.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, you looked to see Bucky glancing down in shared unease. Sam was doing his best to make sure his cover won’t get blown. You thought all was going well but when you heard Sam’s name from Sarah, you knew you were all toast.

Selby immediately called for all of you to be killed and in that moment, all hell broke loose. Selby got shot in a blink of an eye and her guards were up in action. Bucky pushed you behind him protectively as he fought off Selby’s men.

Once all her guards are dealt with, Zemo called for weapons to drop and you took the back exit.

Making a swift escape, all of you tried to play it cool while taking long quick strides. The sound of the first gunshot made you jumped and sprang into a run. You saw Zemo took off in another direction but you didn’t have time for him.

You, Bucky and Sam decided to sprint ahead. “I can’t run in these heels.” Sam cried out and you retorted in annoyance.

“How do you think I feel? Mine’s twice as taller than yours!”

Bucky reached over to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers together. His super-speed was practically lifting you off the ground, dragging you like a rag dog.

"Hey! What the hell man? What about me?" Bucky ignored Sam's whining and focused on not letting your hand go.

Not knowing where you are headed, a sense of dread started pouring on you and you grew anxious by the second. People on motorbikes were starting to drive up behind you three.

You were wondering if it’s time to not give care and actually use your powers for real this time. All of a sudden, the two people on the bikes behind you have been shot by someone from above and you stopped in your tracks to locate that individual, fearing you were next.

Zemo reappeared from the shadows and claimed that you all might have a guardian angel.

“Drop it, Zemo.” The familiar voice brought relief as you matched it to the face that emerged into your sight.

Your smile at the thought of a friendly face faltered when she continued pointing a gun towards all of you. Sharon didn’t seem as pleased as you were. Turns out she had to fall off the grid and found herself in Madripoor after the turn of events many years ago.

"Y/N, is that you?" She took a double-take on you, probably not used to seeing you dress up like this.

"Hey." You awkwardly replied. The moment didn't last as Sharon trained her eyes on the men and continued to be hostile.

Your heart dropped as you hear her telling of how she was unable to be in contact with her family anymore. She had become a fugitive and still is. An immense amount of guilt washed all over you when she retorted about how she wasn’t backed by the Avengers.

You weren’t batch mates with Sharon back in S.H.I.E.L.D academy but you became friends when you crossed paths during work. You could not believe you haven’t reached out to her all this time.

Bucky pleaded with Sharon for her help and Sharon gave a thoughtful look at all of you. When she saw you with your uncomfortable expression, she gave a sighed and stated that she wasn’t done discussing the topic.

Offering refuge in her place at High Town, all of you accept it.

You sat beside her in the front and the two of you exchanged silent looks before she started the engine. What were the odds of seeing her again in Madripoor?

You hoped to be able to get a chance to talk to her later.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @conflicted-noxsirius

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x oc #bucky x you #tfatws #marvel fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #beautiful pain #angstsfordays #bucky barnes fanfiction

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ananicoleta · 3 years

Text

Together Again

(A Space Jam 2 FanFiction)

Ok, so I imagine that after Bugs "died" in Space Jam 2, he didn't show up immediately. Instead, there were needed a few days for him to reappear, time during which the Looney Tunes thought he was dead. This fic shows their thoughts during that time, as well as a surprise at the end.

Enjoy!

WARNING: angst + kinda long

Daffy crept around the forest, always looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed or seen him. Not that it was very likely to happen. None of the Looney Tunes paid that much attention to anyone or anything anymore, so his absence would probabpy go unnoticed. All of them - him included - were trapped in their own thoughts and regrets, and the outside world just didn't matter anymore. The dynamic, the jokes, the atmosphere weren't - couldn't - be the same. Not ever since Bugs had...

Shaking his head, the duck snapped out of the thought that threatened to cloud his mind with pain and fog his eyes with tears. He had promised himself he won't let that happened. Just focus on the road, Daffy. You're almost there.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he reached his destination. The glade he knew so well looked just the way it did when he had left. The fresh grass, wet from the rain, shone into the sunlight as if it was made of cristal. The lively river cut its path through the strong rocks, running like a carefree child, while the birds happily sang their lovely tune.

Right in the middle of the glade, stood the well-known oak tree, tall as always, like a nobleman, proudly wearing its green attire. On the trunk, there could be spotted a poster that read: Duck Season. That was what Daffy was looking for.

He walked quietly towards it, still paranoic that someone might be there and see him. They for sure would ask him what was he doing and, honestly, he didn't know either. All he knew was that if he stayed one more minute alone in his house, trying to not think about Bugs, while automatically thinking about Bugs and missing him dearly, he'd go insane. He needed to feel the taste of their old game again, even if he had to play it all by himself.

Standing near the tree, he took a deep breath and began.

"Wabbit stheason!" He said, ripping the Duck Season poster.

Then, moving to the side opposite to him, he said in a quite accurate Bugs Bunny impression.

"Duck season!"

After, Daffy moved to the other side again and repeated the procedure. This went on for a while and it was, surprisingly, relaxing. It took his mind off of things and if he pretended hard enough, he could actually see and hear Bugs...

"Daffy?"

The duck slipped and fell right in the pile of posters that he had torn. When he lifted his head, he saw none other than Elmer Fudd, looking down at him, confused. He wore his usual clothes, complete with the hat and hunting gun.

"Didn't your mother tell you it wasth rude to sthcare people?" Daffy snapped, getting back on his feet.

"Sowwy, didn't mean to cweep up on you, duck." Elmer said apologetically. Then, peeking at the pile of sheets behind Daffy, he asked.

"Uh, what were you doing hewe?"

"I could ask you the sthame question." Daffy responded, not wanting to explain himself.

Elmer sighed and sat on the grass, his expression turning sad. In that moment, Daffy realised that the reason the hunter decided to come in this specific glade was the same as his.

Sighing as well, the duck sat down near his friend, feeling the depression taking control of him again. None of them spoke for a few minutes. They just sat there in silence, listening to the forest's whispers that seemed to mourn as well, as if it could feel someone was absent.

"You miss him as well, don't you?" Daffy asked after a while.

Elmer nodded. "I nevew thought I would miss him so much. He always annoyed me, always made me cuwse him. Now, though, I would give anything to heaw him again, to do pway 'Wabbit Season! Duck Season! Fiwe' just one mowe time..."

Elmer let out a stranggled sob and Daffy bit back his tears. If he had known that a few months ago would be the last time he, Elmer and Bugs would go through their hunting routine, he wouldn't have left, no matter what Al-G Rythim would have promised him. He would have listened and stood by the rabbit's side. But he was too selfish, as usual. He wanted to spread his wings, to be the hero of his own story and didn't care when Bugs practically begged them all to not go. And now it was too late. The rabbit was dead and there was nothing he or anyone could do.

Looking over at Elmer, he saw tears falling down his cheeks. Daffy extended his hand and gently wiped them away, ignoring how wet his own eyes were getting.

"Come on, Fuddsey." He said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go home and do something else. There's nothing for us here, anymore. Maybe we can help Granny with that big dinner she wanted to prepare for all of us."

And with that, the two left the glade that held so many happy memories, never looking back, afraid that they might get a glimpse of the past, one that would make them lose their composures completely.

/////////

Porky walked through Tune Town, making his way to Granny's house. He had recieved a message that morning from her that kindly asked him if he wanted to come over and help her make a delicious meal for the family, since cooking alone was a bit depressing.

Although she didn't say it, he could tell from her tone that the reason she wanted him near was so she wouldn't have the opportunity to think about Bugs. Who could blame her? None of them wanted to think of Bugs. And they all tried so hard not to.

The pairs of enemies, like Road Runner and Wile E., Sylvester and Tweety, Foghorn Leghorn and Barnyard, went right back to chasing and teasing each other, though Porky could see the lack of energy and how forced it looked. Toons like Yosemite Sam, Marvin and Speedy were always away, probably somewhere where there was just them alone and their thoughts, where no one could bother them. Then there were the ones like Garnny, himself and occasionaly Pepe Le Pew and Penelope, that tried to cheer them all up, while they themselves were almost dead on the inside.

And it hurt a lot. It hurt to look at their dishearted family, trying to do anything in order to forget, even for a moment, that Bugs was dead. It hurt to feel so powerless to put an end to their pain, to hear them crying their hearts out, knowing that no matter what he said, it won't make a difference. It hurt to see them separated and not wanting to interact with anybody.

This was the main reason Granny had proposed the dinner.

At first, he didn't think it was such a good idea, but then he figured that they couldn't just stay in their houses forever, watching time fly by, grieving their friend. As painful as it was, he knew he had to put it all behind him and accept that they would never see Bugs again. If only they wouldn't have left...

"Hi, Porky." Came a voice from nearby.

Wipping his eyes quickly, Porky greeted his friends as well.

"H-Hi, Da-Da-Daffy. And hello, Elm-Elmer, t-too."

Seeing the black duck and the toon human cheered him up a bit. His family always managed to do that.

"Whe-where you guys o-off t-t-t, uh, going?"

"We thought we might stop at Gwanny's and hewp her with the cooking." Elmer said.

"Oh, re-really? Th-That's great, 'cause I was he-hea-heading there a-as we-we-we, uh, too."

As they walked down the road they continued to chat about this and that, just for the sake of making conversation and not walking in silence. They climbed the hill that led to the valley full of nice, suburban houses, meaning they were almost at Granny's.

When they made it to the top, Porky simply glanced in to the distance... and his heart caught in his throat. Stopping dead in his tracks, causing his other two friends to bump into him, he stared forward convinced that his eyes must be playing tricks on him.

"Hey, what gives, Pig?" An annoyed Daffy asked.

Seeing as Porky didn't answer, they followed his startled gaze, and saw exactly what had caused the pig to react like that.

Down in the valley, right near the entrance of Tune Town, there was a silhouette walking towards the suburbs. It might've been just a trick of the light, or maybe a product of their grief-struck minds, but the creature (that also appeared to have grey fur and long ears) looked an awful lot like...

"BUGS!" Daffy shouted and before one of them could do something, the duck broke into a run, all while screaming the rabbit's name at the top of his lungs.

The silhouette also started running, and in less than ten seconds, the two crashed, warping their arms around each other in a tight hug.

At that moment, Porky felt an uncontrolable smile spread across his face. All the negative feelings that had polluted his mind until then, evaporated. Instead, his heart swelled with pure and utter happiness. He also heard Elmer repeating over and over, excitedly:

"He's awive! Gwacious, he's awive!"

Letting out a joyous laugh, both of them ran as fast as they could, to hug their brothers.

Behind them, the rest of the family, that had probably heard the noise and came to see what was happening, shouted with surprise and glee, and ran right after them.

Slowly, one by one, every Looney Tune joined them in a giant, family hug that warmed their hearts and casted off their sadness.

Finally, they were all together again, and they were never ever separating.

#looney tunes #bugs bunny #elmer fudd #porky pig #daffy duck

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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 years

Text

Your Perfect Little Bubble

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff, dad!sam fluff, minor angst

Request by anon: What about a Sam x reader where Sam and R are sleeping and their young child comes in because of a nightmare and wakes up reader wanting to sleep with their parents. With the lines “ ok, just don’t wake daddy up.” And Sam replies “Too late” Just domestic fluff! There just needs to be more Dad!Sam

Summary: Your little boy has a nightmare in the middle of the night and tells you about it.

nose kisses (2020 card) and child au (2021 card) for @spnfluffbingo

family for @spntfwbingo

domestic au for @spngenrebingo

Author’s Note: I know this was requested a long time ago. Sorry this is just now coming out. This is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine. If you have any requests, please send them in!

Having kids was never something you saw for yourself until you met Sam. Being truly happy with your life was never possible for you until you met Sam. You never saw having the things you have now until you met Sam. Everything happened when you met him, and you owe him your life--to try and pay back everything he gave to you. Ten years ago, if someone asked you what you would be doing with your life, it would certainly not be this.

Your eccentric five-year-old baby boy is full of life and is curious about everything. He has an eye for the good, to see what others can’t. When you found out you were pregnant, you refused to raise him the way John did with his boys. John shut his kids out unless he needed them, and even then, it was touch-and-go. Not with Dylan, no, you wanted to be different than the rest.

Dean has always said hunters aren't kids, but you’re doing a pretty damn good job at allowing your baby boy be a kid for as long as he can. He knows what’s out there because you decided to have the talk with him in the form of stories. Instead of just shoving him into the life and forcing him to deal with it like John did, you tell stories of vampires, djinns, angels, demons, and everything in between. With stories, you can show him it’s not that scary, and with hunter parents like Sam and Dean, it’s not.

The Bunker isn’t an ideal place to raise a child, but Dylan made sure to turn this place into his own personal playground. The two rooms you merged to make his playroom is just covered with toys. Whenever he had a birthday, Sam, Dean, and even Castiel would spoil him with lots of presents, so the Bunker is just littered with them.

You don’t mind much since it makes him so happy to get gifts. He’s not spoiled in a bad way--he always says please and thank you, and he is very grateful for what he gets. You don’t think you could have raised a better son, and there are still thirteen more years to go. You let Dylan play in his playroom after dinner, so when you enter the room to get him, a smile grows on your face.

He fell asleep while playing with the present Jack gave him--Marvelous Marvin the Talking Teddy. He also has one, and they play a lot together with them. You think it’s sweet how much your son grew to love Jack. They are close in age, so it makes sense that they would get along the best.

You walk over to your little man and pick him up gently, careful not to wake him up. His head rolls to rest on your chest, and you carry him to his room. He decorated it all on his own with the help of his father. There are stars and planets painted on the wall since he loves Toy Story and Buzz Lightyear and everything that has to do with space. You lay him in his bed and tuck him up, kissing him on the head when you’re finished.

Sam and Dean had just gotten back from a tough hunt, so to give your husband some time to settle into bed and go to sleep, you figured you would clean Dylan’s playroom first. If you were to go to bed now, and Sam was only half-asleep, he would wake as soon as you got into the bed. Years of being a hunter made him accustomed to being a light sleeper.

You tidy up Dylan’s playroom, putting the toys where they belong. Inside the room is a little table in the corner that is used for arts and crafts that he loves using. Today, him and Jack were painting some of the Toy Story characters. Your son’s paintings aren’t that great with Jack not that far behind him, but they had fun while doing it. You take the pictures and hang them in the designated spot that’s used to hang all the pictures that Dylan makes. Once they dry, he picks his favorite ones and you throw the rest of them away. The ones he picks go into a big photo album that he can look through when he’s older.

Once the room is cleaner, you head back to your shared room with Sam. You can hear his soft snores from his side of the bed, so you know he is fast asleep. You’re quiet as you change into your pajamas, and you slide into bed gently. Sam turns over so he's facing you, and in his sleep, he reaches out for you. You cuddle into his side, acting as the “little spoon”. His big arms wrap around your waist as his head buries itself into the crook of your neck.

If you could stay like this forever, you would. Immediately, you drift off to sleep knowing everyone inside the Bunker is safe and sound. You’re not sure when you wake up next, but you know it’s not morning. It’s not your alarm telling you that you two needed to get up to do your morning run. It’s not the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen that Jack loves to make since he barely sleeps. No, something much more innocent and vulnerable wakes you.

“Mommy,” Dylan whispers, shaking your shoulder.

“What is it, baby? Are you okay?” you whisper and turn on the lamp next to your bed on the lowest setting so it doesn’t wake Sam up.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Come here,” you say and pat the area between you and Sam.

Sam had managed to scoot as far as possible away from you during the night, so there is plenty of room for Dylan to crawl in without waking his father. He settles in next to you, and you push his long hair away from his face. He is growing more to look like Sam every single day. He refuses to cut his hair claiming he wants to look like Daddy.

“Tell me about your nightmare, sweetheart. Just don’t wake Daddy up.”

“Too late,” Sam grumbles and flips to face you two. “What’s going on?”

“Dylan had a nightmare. He was just going to tell me about it.”

“Alright, buddy, we’re all ears. We’re listening,” Sam yawns.

“I had a nightmare about you and Daddy. You were killed by a monster and you left me all alone,” Dylan sighs.

You look at Sam knowingly, and that little story causes him to become more alert. You’re not a hunter anymore--not since you found out you were pregnant. You’re a stay-at-home mom while Sam and Dean go out and fight the monsters. You help when you can from the Bunker, but you don’t go out anymore. This isn’t your department anymore, so Sam takes over. He grabs Dylan by the waist and plops him on his elated legs so that he’s resting his back on them.

“Listen, Dylan, your mom and I aren’t going to die. I know it’s scary, okay? Believe me, I was once your age thinking the same thing about my dad. It was scary for me not knowing if he was ever going to come home, but it doesn’t have to be like that for you. Your uncle and I will always make it home to you and your mom. You have Uncle Jack and Cas here to protect you. They’re angels, so if I’m ever hurt, they can fix me right up. You won’t ever have to be alone.”

“Your daddy’s right, baby. Monsters are scary, okay? Monsters can hurt a lot of people, but your daddy and your uncle go out and kill the bad people so that the good people can be happy. Just like in your stories,” you add with a smile.

“Okay,” he nods, believing every word you and Sam say.

“You want to show your mom what we’ve been working on?” Sam asks with a smile, and that seems to brighten up your son.

“Yeah!”

He and Sam have been working on a secret handshake that only the two of them know. It puts a smile on your face to know that your son has this to fall back on. When he’s scared or alone, he can think back to times like these to feel better. When they are done, Dylan squeals in happiness when Sam bear-hugs him.

“That’s pretty cool,” you beam.

“Are you feeling much better?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dylan smiles widely.

“Do you want to sleep in here with us?” you ask.

Dylan nods, and Sam puts him back where he was before. Dylan snuggles underneath the blanket and passes the fuck out. When you know he is fast asleep, you look at Sam with a loving smile.

“We did a good job with this one,” you say.

“We should have another one,” Sam whispers.

“I’d love nothing more.”

You lean closer to him and rub your nose against him to give him some Eskimo kisses before kissing him on the lips. It’s slow and sensual, but nothing short of loving. You pull away and cuddle into him with Dylan in between you two.

Your perfect little family all wrapped up in a perfect little bow.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why! Follow my library blog @queenofdeansbooty-writes where I reblog all my stories, so you can follow that if you can’t be tagged!

@babypink224221 @fluffydanger @jennazeise @calaofnoldor @miraclesoflove @xxboesefrauxx @kendall-michele @007zada @nahigm @sandlee44 @a--1--1--3 @paintballkid711 @musiclovinchic93 @whizzer1320 @essie1876 @notyourtypicalrose @fuckwby @gh0stgurl @wonderful-writer @scarletmeii @mizzezm @fandom-princess-forevermore @katherine097 @posiemax @countrygal17a @knowledgefulbutterfly @justalonely-nerd @deanloveboi @casseythebee @redperson58 @donnaintx @foxyjwls007 @thatmotleygirl @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @sritzthefirefly @sunshin3sammy @stixnstripesworld

#spnfluffbingo #spntfwbingo #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fiction #sam winchester fan fiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fluff

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sorcerersofnyc · 3 years

Text

The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 1/9

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo reflects upon his relationship to you, his only tether to his wife and closest friend.

Slow burn, previous relationships, angst, various mentions of death & mourning. You both lost your spouse. You're a regular civilian person. Zemo's wife's name is Heike because of comics.

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won't say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

I meant to write a one-shot but, as it turns out, I have feelings for this man.

I'll have part two by the end of the day and hope to update steadily.

***

He looks forward to coming face-to-face with Karli, the girl responsible for the birth of a new faction of Super Soldiers. His plan for her was simple really: He would find her, and then he would end her—just as he did Nagel.

Sam and James lack the conviction to do what needs to be done, and it’s that weakness that makes Helmut invaluable (that and he’s the one with the private jet.) So he bides his time and waits.

Helmut would put an end to Karli and her acolytes. He would make sure of it.

But it’s night now, and he’s tired, so instead of plotting, he prepares a meal in the little kitchen near the cockpit.

James relaxes on the couch and Sam sits across from him in the lounge area, discussing something not meant for his ears. So as he does his work and delicious aromas permeate the air, Helmut decides to let their food cook a little longer than he usually would. By the time he decides to turn off the heat, Sam is contacting an associate—someone he hopes can help them locate Karli’s mentor, Donya Madani.

It isn’t a bad plan, enlisting the help of others, but Helmut knows how strenuous locating displaced persons can be; locating the dead was a much easier feat.

Sam’s associate wouldn’t find Donya as long as she’s alive.

“Now what?” James asks, his voice and disposition bitter as Helmut hands him the plate. He eyes the meal with suspicion.

“We wait” Sam can barely withhold his frustration with James, but he accepts the food with a nod.

“For how long?”

“For as long as it takes.”

Helmut has no burning desire to listen to Sam and James argue on and on about symbols and shields. It’s clear whatever they have between them is fraying—ripping at the seams.

If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

“I know of a place we can go until then.” He says, settling down into his chair. Helmut doesn’t give them a moment to ask questions, instead, he asks Oeznik to adjust their course towards Spain.

He’d know exactly where to port.

And though the journey would be long and annoying, he would handle it as handled every arduous thing: with patience and a glass of whiskey.

Besides, his impending headache will be well worth it; he’ll get to see you again.

***

Before she was his wife, Heike was his girlfriend, and in those days, she longed to see the world outside the trappings of nobility. So she studied abroad for University and adventured out into the world. But despite her dazzling personality, she never expected to have met a friend so quickly. (She confessed as much to him the day after she arrived.)

So when she ran into you—quite literally—while searching for her class building, she was overjoyed. You were headed to the same lecture (as Heike would recount later,) and decided to share a bench as you looked over a ridiculously simplified map.

Heike couldn’t wait to tell him of the ‘lovely Fine Arts major’ she met that day (and every day afterward.)

You were all but joined at the hip ever since; you were there for all their important dates — their engagement, their wedding, the birth of their baby.

But despite your somewhat frequent presence in his home and in his life, Helmut never thought to consider you a friend, not really.

You were his wife’s friend, someone who came to town, swept her up, spoiled Carl, and left days later.

But when Heike hosted dinner for one of her milestone birthdays, your life became entangled with his further. Because on that day, you caught the eye of his closest friend, Dominik.

Dominik had no title. His family had been nobility once, many years ago, but their words no longer held sway in politics or court.

So society wouldn’t care if Dominik married a Sokovian woman or if his partner came from old money. There would be looks, of course, and there would be whispers, (Sokovia was a fairly homogenous society, after all, and with that came many old-world sensibilities,) but most were content to let him be.

Dominik was free to live his life with impunity.

So he might have married anyone he liked—in fact, he might have had an easier time courting a woman more easily swayed by his charm and vast amounts of money—but you enchanted him from the beginning, he didn’t want anyone else.

“They would make such a cute couple, wouldn’t they?” Heike asked that evening, her large eyes filled with mischievous glee. They both had the misfortune of watching Dominik flounder as he spoke to you and Helmut often wondered if she set you up on purpose if she somehow knew that love would run its course.

Helmut remembered one particular day; it was hot and he found his friend tucked away in the stuffy library of his family’s estate. He looked studious, thoughtful, things he rarely expected Dominik to be.

The annotated books were arranged in neat piles, obscuring Dominik’s tired eyes.

“What are these?” Helmut asked him, inspecting the pile with curiosity.

He said your name with a sight, almost dreamily.

“She said she likes to read, so I asked about her favorites,” he told him, gesturing “She told me these were ‘essential reading.’ ”

He was never meant to read them all at once, but he was determined to impress you.

Endlessly curious and amused, Helmut decided to read them too. (He found the one on Pre-Columbian art extremely insightful, as was the one on the political importance of diasporas, and of course the one on Marvin Gaye.)

But it wasn’t until a year later, when EKO Scorpion was deployed, that he realized the true depth of Dominik’s feelings for you.

Because usually, when Dominik received one of your amorous letters, he would grin and gloat and parade himself through camp.

“Look,” he would say, waving the envelope around as if it were your banner, “I have someone waiting for me.”

But then one night, after a back-breaking mission near the border of Lithuania, Helmut watched his friend pull your letter from the pocket of his uniform. The night was damp and cold, but he read the letter quietly, thumbing at the wrinkled page.

And he was happy for him, he was happy for you.

It was nice, Helmut remembered, watching your courtship from afar and offering advice where he could.

He was proud to stand beside Dominik on the day of the wedding, proud to watch see your love take root.

Though it took a great deal of compromise for you to move to Sokovia (you didn’t like the idea of living in a country so bloodied by war, you were worried about exclusion and monotony, and you found the film culture’s lacking,) but once you did, he and Heike entertained you on the holidays.

There had been no children between you and him, but there was plenty of love.

There was so much love, in fact, someone found your letter in the pocket of his uniform the day they pulled him from the rubble of Novi Grad.

“Does anyone know where his wife is?” An officer asked.

“Does anyone know where anyone is?” Another replied.

It was an endless cycle of death and sorrow as people dug soldiers and civilians from the wreckage and debris.

Some were alive, most were dead.

People cried.

Families broke apart.

People begged and fell limp in the streets.

Helmut buried his entire family.

You buried your husband and his father.

You had no one left.

You made a beautiful speech at the service, one that spoke volumes of love you both shared.

“I loved him,” you said, “and he loved me.”

But when the service was finally over and you stood at the site of his freshly dug grave, you lingered almost absentmindedly, at a loss for something to say.

Helmut joined you, after a while, standing in silent solidarity. You’d done the same just a few days prior. He waited for you to speak.

You keep your eyes cast down as you do.

“I’m standing here and I... I still can’t believe it. I can’t believe they’re gone.”

All because of the Avengers, he thought. They took everything from you both.

“What will I do without him?” When you looked at him, your eyes filled with tears, Helmut knew better than to say what he was thinking. He couldn’t tell you he longed to watch the world burn, that he wanted those so-called ‘heroes’ to have died in the place of those he held dear, that he wanted revenge.

So he said the next best thing instead:

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised.

“Thank you, Helmut. But… I…” You wanted to tell him you’d be alright, but the lie lodged itself in the back of your throat and a sob pushed forward instead.

“Please…” He beckoned softly, “It’s what they would have wanted. Heike and Carl… they adored you. I can do this much at least.“

You were the only thing he had left of the ones he loved.

He didn’t want to let you go.

***

Thanks for reading! Look out for part two! The reader will have more interaction with Zemo.

#baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #zemo x reader #well that was pretty nerve-wracking #its been so long since I wrote a fic lmao #i never wrote for the mcu but for some reason zemo just...does it for me #he’s so interesting

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1littleshippergirl1 · 3 years

Text

Something Odd

There was something odd about her neighbors.

Gladys Barlowe prided herself on knowing just about everything that went on within the bounds of the neighborhood. Why, Mrs. Keperna, who lived just down the road, was getting up there in age and yet none of her children made much of an effort to visit. But those girls had been a bad sort; they'd gotten into much trouble in their youth. She'd told Ingrid it was a bad idea to let them go out to that dancing club. It was bound to corrupt them and it did, rest assured.

Oh, and the Irmagards next door were having marriage troubles. Yes, indeed, it was quite a shocking revolution. She'd overheard shouting going on between them and glass shattering. Why, she had jumped a mile in the air when that happened! It was a toss up whether or not they would stay together or file for divorce. Privately, she'd said to the other ladies of the neighborhood came for a visit to sip on tea and enjoy some freshly baked biscuits, if it were her and her husband, they would never have been so inconsiderate to everyone else and aired their dirty laundry for all to hear. Had they no decency?

Her husband, Mervin, was less enthusiastic whenever she relayed anything she'd found out to him. Yes, Dear, he'd say. Or, mhm. Or, that's nice. She'd huff in frustration whenever that happened. So caught up in the sports section newspaper or television, he was! He had the nerve of wagging his finger at her once, insinuating her to be a gossip fiend. She was hardly such; they'd lived in the neighborhood ever since they'd gotten married, watched as people passed on, moved on and new faces appeared. They were one of the longest remaining home owners there. She had a right to know who was living nearby. Besides, what was the harm?

But, back to her neighbors.

She couldn't put her finger on it on what made them stand out to her. They didn't look that different than any of the other families that were around. It started out as a feeling, one she couldn't shove to the side and forget about, no matter how many times Marvin told her she was being paranoid. She wasn't. This was real, that feeling. She just knew it. She only had to prove it.

So, she did the reasonable thing and began to subtly watch them.

It was the house that was directly across the street from her, the one with the rather unflattering paint job and the red-headed man with his two daughters. They'd been there for about thirteen years now, back when it was originally just the man, his wife and only one of their children. She wondered whatever happened to that wife of his-Andria? Alana? Audrey, perhaps. Oh, yes, that must have been it. Gladys distinctly remembered a woman with blonde hair living in the house at one point and then she just disappeared! Their marriage must have soured. Poor thing. They were quite young, by the looks of it

(Marvin had told her it was none of her business when she'd planned on bringing over a casserole, with the intention of asking about it).

That woman, Audrey, was a little more cold then her husband was and the way she dressed was just plain awful. Those colors and her complexion-just what had she been thinking? Well, Gladys wasn't completely up to date on fashion these days either but still. Even she knew there were just certain things you kept in the back of your closet after turning thirty. She wasn't judging, of course.

Her husband, on the other hand, was much more friendly. Always smiling and waving to her when they happened to be outside at the same time. That wasn't an issue. She and the ladies from her book club agreed he was such a nice man. There were just occasions where she saw strange things; like that one time when she witnessed him throwing a cape over his shoulders when it snowed and a pointy hat, like a witch would wear.

It threw her for a bit of a loop, it did, at first. He might have been into that fad all the teenagers and young adults were into, where they dressed up as fictional people and used the convention center for all of them to get together. What a strange thing to do with one's time. Did he go to those events held at the local convention center, too? Oh, they were outrageously expensive, according to the flyers she'd seen posted on a bulletin board at the grocer's. Not to mention, he was raising two growing girls, who had needs that should've come before a silly hobby.

And speaking of his girls..

They were quite pretty. One of them, the oldest she reckoned, had taken right after her father. She was his spitting image, right down to the dreary clothes and atrocious looking glasses. The other was more so of her mother, appearance wise. She, too, wore glasses that were slightly big on her face and dressed without any fashion sense.

Like she said, they were pretty, but they could've looked magnificent if she just had a few minutes with them.

Those two weren't around very often, peculiarly enough. She saw them in the summertime and on occasion, if she looked out her window and if the curtains were open, they were home for Christmas but not any other time. That began shortly after they'd turned eleven. It started out as the oldest leaving and the younger one was still there but then it was both of them!

Just where did they go? Well, they weren't attending the local secondary school, that was for sure She'd casually asked Mrs. Thorp, who had a son going there, if she'd seen them around but they weren't there. That was odd. Unless they didn't go there because they were going to some exclusive school for gifted children. That must be it, wasn't it? What other explanation could there be? Truthfully, she never would've guessed those two would be prodigies. They never struck out to her like that. Weren't prodigies supposed to be all quiet and depressed? Those girls were rather lively from what she'd seen of them. Of course, they might just be an exception.

A thought crossed her mind and she wondered what the red-headed man did for a living. She hardly ever saw him leave the house. He didn't even have a car, for crying out loud! How did he get anywhere? Did he wake up in the early hours of the morning to walk back and forth to work? He couldn't have been poor; these houses cost a pretty penny. The few times she did see him, he wore casual, comfy clothes that gave no clue to his occupation, whatever that may be.

What if he was in some sort of governmental work that was highly confidential? Or perhaps he and his daughters were in the witness protection program! That made a great amount of sense. Why hadn't she considered that before? It might provide an explanation as to where that Audrey woman had gone. Oh, what if she'd been killed? Had she and the red-headed man gotten caught up in gang activity prior to the birth of their daughters and one of those members had found her and finished her off? Oh, the man must have been devastated! And now he was left to raise his girls on his own. What a terrible thing.

Didn't he have any family help? She was sure he did. She'd seen some red-headed folks in his living room once-she'd been outside watering her garden when a man standing in front of the window caught her attention. He was younger than the man who lived there by a few years and oh it was just awful, he was missing an ear! Her hand had flown up to her mouth, the hose dropping to the ground. What on earth had happened to him? A work related accident? An animal attack?

There were a couple non red-heads that came over to the house as well. A man with unkempt black hair had come around. He had the strangest looking scar, she'd noticed with curiosity as he stepped out of an old, beat up car. And then there were two separate women as well on occasion. One with hair that reminded Gladys of a rat's nest while the rest of her seemed well put together. The other had such nice hair. A cross between silver and blonde. It must have been from a box. It certainly didn't look natural. She'd assumed one of those women had to have been involved with the man. Why else would they have come to him? She dearly hoped he wasn't seeing them both at the same time. He wasn't that kind of man, was he? And to do that with children around. Very disgraceful if he was.

Gladys sat at the kitchen table of her home, sipping delicately on a cup of tea with slightly pursed lips. In all her years of knowing of the man, she had not yet once had a proper conversation with him. She didn't even know his name. And her curiosity was getting the better of her; she had several questions needing to be answered that couldn't be done by a simple, quick chat. No, she would need a reasonable reason to go over there.

She supposed she could bring over a late housewarming present. A batch of cookies, perhaps. Yes, that sounded splendid. The children would enjoy them and she could get the man to talk. Surely he wouldn't be so rude as to merely take the cookies and push her out of the house?

"How do you think this looks?" She asked her husband, presenting him with the china that contained the cookies. She'd put a red bow on top for decoration.

Mervin was doing a crossword puzzle. His eyes barely even lifted up. "It looks nice, dear."

"Oh," she scowled, "you didn't even see it!"

He did look up this time, unimpressed. "It looks the same as any other time-what's with the bow? Did you take it out of the Christmas container?"

"So what if I did?" She straightened herself up. "I want it to look nice."

"For who, exactly?"

"Our neighbors," she said. "The ones across the street. You know, the red-headed man and his daughters."

"Gladys," Mervin said warningly. "You leave those people alone."

She shot him a look, miffed. "I'm bringing them cookies."

"You're being nosy is what you're doing," he pointed a finger at her accusingly. "I know what you're up to."

She made a noise from her throat. "I'm not up to anything!"

"Oh, yes you are," he got up out of his chair. "You're going to go over there and use the cookies to get information. I'm telling you, Gladys, leave the man alone."

"You're not the least bit curious about him?" She said, taking a quick glance in the direction of the window. "I've never seen him speak to anyone in all the years he's lived over there."

"No," he said flatly. "If he wanted to speak to us, he would have by now. He doesn't need you going over there to bother him. You remember what happened with the Kremps, don't you? You remember being tossed out of the house and Mrs. Kremp threatening to hit you with that pan of hers?"

Gladys adjusted her dress primly. She vaguely recalled it. But it hadn't been her fault. The woman had simply overreacted to an innocent question. How was she supposed to have known that the ugly vase on the mantel contained the ashes of her father?

Mervin folded his arms across his chest, sighing heavily. "Don't go causing any more trouble."

"I'm doing no such thing," she was offended he thought so little of her. "I'm just going to ask a few questions."

"Gladys-"

"Don't you ever wonder what happened to that wife of his?" She cut him off.

"No. But they likely got divorced, if anything."

"Not divorced. Murdered," she revealed.

His eyes widened in surprise. It was about time he finally reacted, She thought with satisfaction "She was murdered?" he said in disbelief.

"Well," she shifted and his expression turned into a glare, "I can't say for sure that's what happened, but I have reason to believe the man and his daughters are in the witness protection program."

He inhaled, shutting his eyes as if praying that he was given more strength. "What?"

"Now just listen," she advised. "No one really knows much about them, do they? They don't talk to people and we don't even know his name. His wife was around and suddenly she disappeared! Now, I think they must have been involved in some illegal gang activity and one of those gang members must have come back to finish her off!"

"Do you know how mad you sound right now?" Mervin snapped.

"I'm not mad, I'm serious."

"And that's what scares me," Mervin muttered. Louder, he said, "I don't want you going over there, do you hear me? You're not going to say a word of that nonsense to him!"

"It's not nonsense-"

"Oh, you're right. It's worse," he scowled. "When is this all going to stop, hmm? When am I going to get peace?"

She harrumphed. "You're not even listening to me!"

"I'm the one not listening? You're the one not listening to me! I'm trying to save you from getting your lights knocked out. I'm warning you, Gladys. Don't do it." He gave her one last look. "Now I'm going back to my puzzle and I'm keeping an eye on that door!"

"Yes, dear," she said pleasantly. She stayed put like he asked, until he went to the bathroom that is. Then she quickly grabbed the cookies and bounded out the door and across the road. When she came to a stop on his front porch, she smoothed down her hair and dress.

Hmm, she noticed his door was ajar. Did he know? Perhaps not. Well, there was no harm in going in a bit. "Hello?" She said cheerfully. "Is anyone home?"

No one responded but someone was there. She heard noises coming from inside. There were people talking. Three in fact. The man and his daughters, she realized she had never heard their voices before.

"Can I show you, please?"

"I said no, Molly. You know the rules."

"It'll be quick! And no one'll know. I won't tell anyone."

Tell anyone what? She frowned.

"And what if someone sees?"

"I told you he'd say no."

"Oh, shut up!"

"Girls, stop arguing."

"Please, Dad? Please!"

"I already told you no. Especially with the windows open. What if someone saw you? I'm in no mood to deal with it today. The department has enough reports already."

What department? What reports? What did he not want to deal with? She stuck her ear in as far as she could.

"Don't worry, if someone sees, we'll just call Uncle Harry. He can take care of them."

She gulped. Take care of them? Surely she didn't...she didn't mean that kind of take care of. She couldn't have. No. That was preposterous.

Oh, my. What if...what if the man was still involved in the gang? What if they were doing illegal activity in the house? Were the girls involved too? Was that what she wanted to show him and he was afraid of getting caught?

There was a pause.

"Quickly. And don't think you'll be doing this all the time."

She decided on going in. She had to see what was going on. For the good of the neighborhood, of course. She had to know. Inhaling, she braced herself and burst into the home and came to a halt in front of the kitchen.

Just as a textbook magically turned into a chicken. And the girl! She...she was holding a stick-

The man and his daughters froze. Gladys stammered, pointing a shaky finger at them.

"You...that..."

She fell flat on her back in a faint.

Molly stood over her body, peering down at it through her glasses. "Is she dead?"

Percy rubbed at his face tiredly. "No, honey. She's just fainted."

"That's good," Lucy said from where she sat on the countertop. "What was she doing here anyway?"

"I have no idea," he shook his head.

Molly was still peering down at her. "Dad, can I take a picture? I've never seen a muggle faint before."

"No, Molly."

Percy sighed and began to write a letter to the Accidental Muggle Reverse Squad.

#Harry Potter #percy weasley #lucy weasley #Molly Weasley #hp next gen #harry potter fanfiction #percy weasley fanfiction

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