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hmspogue · 3 years

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Outer Banks season 2 Official Trailer shot-by-shot rundown

A comprehensive post where I scream about analyze the entire trailer frame by frame for clues, theories, and plot. Just my own opinions and general tin foil-hatting

These are screenshots from Netflix’s trailer for Outer Banks season 2. I do not claim or own any of these.

note: this post is tagged as a long post if you wish to avoid having to scroll until your thumbs break.

“My old man used to tell me, ‘it’s best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom’.”

(Putting all of these shots together since they’re scenes we already know but-) Holy shit, okay let’s just....start off like this I guess, damn.

“'Trust me’, he said...”

Kiara looking back and forth between the boys like this really just feeds the headcanon I have that her form of grief this season is going to be her trying to hold it together for their sakes (and eventually just snapping).

JJ just looks fucking furious someone give these kids a hug? I already know this scene is going to ruin me.

“You can always go...”

JJ back working at the hotel. He looks literally so angry again in this scene I could see him self destructing at work and losing his job? (Please do not be isolating yourself you beautiful son of a bitch even though I know you’re going to).

Pope in the Twinkie (costuming wise they all are in warmer looking clothes for some of the shots, so just confirming it’s a little bit into the school year when this all takes place).

“Lower”

Big John was real big into pep talks, I see. (seriously can you imagine Big John having this conversation with like 8 year old John B after he fucking dropped his ice cream cone or some shit I shouldn’t be laughing).

I’m just-

These poor kids, I wanna know how the police all the way down in the Bahama’s knew about them?

Their calves....

“RUN!”

Are going to be so fucking jacked by the end of this season I stg.

Fuck you.

“The gold from the Royal Merchant....it’s here.”

For a while, I had thought that maybe they didn’t even make it to the Bahama’s at the front of the season and ended there (because everyone had been filming in there). But I guess they’re going to be making two trips.

If I were a bird from this POV I’d shit right on that house no questions asked.

oooooh ho hokay. Just so we’re clear. Ward Cameron not only get away with murder and about two dozen other felonies, but-

“Half a billion.”

HE STILL FINDS THE GOLD IN THE CRAIN HOUSE AND GETS TO KEEP IT?

Not the polo with the snap back, I just know this man has a playlist called Sad Boi Hours that is just Juice WRLD’s top 5 songs on Spotify and he tells his friends they wouldn’t know the underground artists he listens to.

Sh, you have lost screaming privileges. Go inside and take a nap maybe.

“John B, we are fugitives in a foreign country.”

So, previously, I was talking about how I was confused how they would still be trying to find him is everyone thought he was dead, but here the wanted poster clearly says “presumed lost at sea”. I think that will be interesting to see how the Pogues all interpret that.

Especially because they already had a memorial for John B and everything, I wonder if there will be any part of the Pogues holding out hope that they both could still be out there OUCH.

I’m going to circle back to this, but it looks like John B and Sarah are going to get separated for a little while in this man hunt, I could see my idiot himbo son trying to sacrifice himself so Sarah can get away but in reality just....stranding her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Oh, sweetie....

“Well, Sarah Cameron, I do stupid things all the time without realizing it.”

The volume of his self awareness is astronomical. sir, that is your whole character summed up in your own words.

GOD, IT’S ME AGAIN. PLEASE LET THEM LEAN INTO COMPLETE HIMBO JOHN B THIS SEASON I’LL DO ANYTHING-

nyyooooOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

“Hold on!”

The complete abject terror I would feel having John Booker Routledge driving get-away and then saying the words “Hold on” while reaching fro the gear shift? The english language fails me.

Sarah, bestie, I’m so sorry.

I just wanna know-

what the plan or objective was in this situation. What was the reason for being this dramatic.

Rest in piss, bozo <3

“Ward’s still out there...”

Okay, same conversation they were having as before. I wonder what makes them decide they need to get back to the OBX for this tho.

“I can clear my name. This can all be over in one shot.”

It looks like Topper watching this but way more concerningly, correct me if I’m wrong but this 100% looks like....John B gets caught. And the DEATH PENALTY?! He did have a mug shot for the fliers in s1 and the one above but he was never brought in? Plus he just looks super dirty and dishevled in this one so I-

Jail break anyone?

I also still want to know if they’re going to go with a Topper redemption arc this season. like, does he know more than he should just from being around Rafe and his big fat mouth? Is he going to help out the Pogues even if it’s just for Sarah?

This shot just suddenly made me really sad. The thought of this all started because Big John left one last thing for his son to find, his literal life’s work. And when it all started, it was just a fun adventure John B and his best friends were going on together and having fun with. Then it all got dragged to absolute shit and turned into what it did, including the remaining 3 Pogues thinking that this treasure hunt took their two best friends away from them. And it’s nothing like Big John intended it to be.

Why my eyes wet?

Now we’re edging into what I was talking about earlier with John B and Sarah getting separated.

“If you think there is anything I wouldn’t do...”

Once again, John B is no where to be found. Also, just in case y’all didn’t already know or forgot Ward is an actual psychopath.

I believe this one of the new character, played by Jontavious Johnson (Stubbs). Based on the voice over it lowkey sounds like they’re implying Ward maybe hired Stubbs and Cleo to find and bring Sarah back. My theory would be I bet they do go to retrieve her, but she somehow convinces them that it would be more beneficial for them in the end to be on the Pogue’s side instead.

Miss Girl you gotta be keeping your head on a SWIVEL. Especially when you’re a FUGITIVE of the LAW-

“...you haven’t been paying attention.”

My guy, who are you clarifying this for?

It’s what you deserve for monologuing.

in all seriousness, the idea of them coming to face to face with Ward in Nassau after thinking they finally escaped him is genuinely terrifying.

“SARAH!”

It kind of looks like they’re either hiding their faces or covering their noses? I don’t know maybe it was from some tactic to get away from Ward.

What did I literally jsut say about yelling privileges, you unhinged mother fucker?

“I’m calling the shots now. I’m driving.”

The following progression of scenes made me actually snort-

“I can’t drive stick.”

PLEASE THE FINGER GUNS LAUNCHED ME INTO ORBIT I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

Alright, so now it looks like we’re in Charleston. This is the same scene with Heyward’s truck that got leaked from BTS (read: JJ and Kie shoulder touch).

One of the main things that stuck out to me in the following scenes which, you will see, is it lowkey looks like Pope is kind of heading up this part of the operation, or even going in alone? The following clips are just very Pope focused.

I don’t know what it means, it’s just an observation.

“John B was not the only one that Ward double-crossed.”

LIMBRY-

Bro, we have been hearing about this woman for literal months and I just have....so many questions?

Who the hell is she? How is she connected to Ward? Why is she in South Carolina instead of the OBX? How do the Pogues even learn about her and how to track her down? How is she meant to “help” them? GAH I JUST WANNA KNOOOW. I already know I don’t trust her though and no I will not be offering up supporting evidence.

Sir, that is my son please unhand him.

“I think you know what I want.”

.......no? But feel....free to explain yourself?

The print on the paper is the same one that’s on the ceiling tiles in the following scene. Obviously, with a key on it that most likely goes to the place a few shots from now.

Hell yeah, son, let’s get SLEUTHING.

“The treasure belongs to the Pogues.”

DAMN STRAIGHT.

Bestie’s I’m not going to lie, I stared at this frame for a solid 10 minuets and I have no idea what it says on there I’m sorry. Someone in the comments is welcome to enlighten us.

“We gotta find it first.”

I can’t tell if that’s just dirt or if he hurt his head? But he look GOOD right now for one thing. For another, same outfit as the one in the Twinkie from the beginning of the trailer.

Look at her. LooK AT HER! LOOK! AT! HER! I MISSED HER SO MUCH even in that damn smiley face top that continues to haunt my waking hours she is in it so much and it stresses me out for literally no good reason I’m sorry-

I could literally cry right now and I think that speaks volumes to how little we actually see him genuinely happy. Have I mentioned how much I love that red hat?

Also, probably not that important, but this is not from the same scene as the shots of Pope and Kiara were. This is from the next one-

“Woogity-woogity?”

“Give me some woogity, baby!”

Yeah, this pushed me over the fucking edge, the way that they’re actually happy and laughing? The fact that they kept woogity-woogity and made it A Thing? Yes.

I am, however, going to be intentionally ignoring what appears to be the very intentional stagingof having such an obvious space between where Kiara and Pope are sitting adn where JJ sits, even including the level they’re sitting on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to face those implications right now. Thank you for your time.

Yes yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE ME ALL OF THE SCENES OF THEM ACTUALLY GETTING TO BE TEENAGERS AND JUST BREATHE AND LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT BE RUNNING FOR THEIR FUCKING LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!

before Rafe comes in and literally starts shooting because they can’t breathe for more than 7 seconds but we’ll....get to that.

They refer to Sarah as a Pogue this season or I burn Netflix to the ground. Your move, Jonas.

50 bucks says John B is driving the Twinkie again for the first time since being back.

I deadass think the Pogues JUST got Sarah and John B back and they’re just having the time of their life. Kie was in her smiley face outfit when Pope was in this one a few clips ago, and I still hold to the belief that that one still they released of JJ and Kie hopping over a fence is the Pogue reunion so-

Ward? I have no idea what he’s looking at behind the wall paper and I’ll be so honest I don’t care my eyes are only seeing Pogue content right now.

“This is a map of the whole island.”

This fit, when will John B learn how to operate buttons, stay tuned for season 5. Also my previous theory of this being their reunion outfits and stuff because Pope is in the back in the same jacket as before.

The plot thickens and so has JJ’s hair, Rudy drop the shampoo brand.

Please, dear God, tell me they’re back in the sex church. For @jiaaraa sake.

Kiara, your Madison is showing.

Okay, I really did try but all I can make out is Something to the tomb begin something something.

You’re welcome.

I am no expert but I do not believe boats operate on land.

John B looks like he is in the same outfit here that is in his mug shot we saw on the TV screen so I have a sneaking suspicion this is where he gets caught.

“John B is back-”

Once again with the damn sexual tension that’s always between Barry and Rafe in every scene they do are we about to kiss right now?

“-it’s him or me.”

First of all, no.

Second of all, I’m just....so very confused about this time line this season. It kind of looks like Ward and Rafe follow and find Sarah and John B in Nassau (unless those scenes by the truck were actually back in the OBX). So did they....go to Nassau, then just come right back when they did? I’m just confused.

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.

Literally when will you stop at this point I am begging you.

This looks like the same scene the Pogues were, ya know, literally just having a good time at so fuck me, I guess.

Yeah, no, it’s going to be a no from me, I’m just going to pretend like I’m not seeing this and moving on.

I have simply no idea what is going on here or who that is on the bike but maybe JJ? Maybe Luke even? I think that’s JJ’s bike.

The sewer scene. The SEWER SCENE-

For months sicne that tiktok leaked this damn scene has been genuinely all I could think about. So (obviously) it seems like they’re sending Kie down into the sewer to go do seomthing and things go horribly, horribly wrong.

If you haven’t seen the tiktok, essentially all it was was JJ and Pope screaming and trying to lift up the man hole cover while Kie is begging for them to hurry from inside. I’m cheating a little bit as this isn’t a shot from the trailer but this picture was posted and it’s from the same scene.

I’ll just....leave this here. Back to the trailer shots.

Nice. Also, same shirt as mugshot.

Hey, um, what?

Kiara’s car, she’s driving, I can’t tell who’s in the back seat or the front.

Holy God what is going on and how can I as an audience member put a stop to it?

So, same scene as we will see and was in the teaser but, for some reason, they’re all jumping off of a giant ass boat into the little life raft where it looks like JJ gets hurt later but don’t you worry we’re getting to that.

JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE THEY BOTH LOOK SO DAMN GOOD AND THEIR LITTLE SMILES SPARE ME-

Cleo 🥵

I’m so excited to see her arc and what it brings this season you guys have no idea.

Please for the love of God be about to get Ward Cameron’s ass like he deserves literally punt him into jail right from Tanny Hill.

Sarah at My Druther’s with what looks like a bloody bandage on her side? Same outfit she’s wearing when they’re running from the police on the beach and she has the bandage there too so. Interesting.

Topper hugging who I’m pretty sure is Sarah, being a general douche because he’s clearly looking at John B like 😏

Clips like these serve to remind me just how many of my worldly posessions I would gladly give up to be able to punch Topper Thorton in the throat one time.

I think this is Cleo jumping off the boat with Pope after John B and Sarah.

Absolutely busting a lung at Pope’s form in this one.

John B and Sarah waiting in the life raft, still Cleo and Pope coming after them. The obvious next question is where are JJ and Kiara. The scene I’m sure you all have been waiting for is coming up and clearly takes place in the life raft as well.

So, I really think JJ and Kie get left for last, something horrible happens as they’re trying to jump (my head instantly goes to JJ maybe like pushing Kie out of the way and getting hit on the head instead or even just some accident).

And, oh my GOD a scene of him falling off the boat after it happens and Kiara diving in after him immediately, having to desperatly try to stop him from sinkingand get to the life raft holy shit-

Girl CATCH HIM?????

Because why wouldn’t this be Rafe’s fault. Part of me wonders if this isn’t related to JJ being hurt.

I am going to try and unpack this as calmly as possible because behind my computer screen I am vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass but respectfully.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS TIAUEWFHLAILA

Okay, so scene wise, JJ’s hit his head somehow (probably while he was jumping with Kiara) it looks like and now they’re back on the raft.

In my opinion, this is either:

A) JJ is in really, really bad condition after getting hurt in the jump and they’re not sure he’s going to make it. So this is a “Please stay with me, stay awake, please don’t die” hug OR

B) They very narrowly just avoided a deadly situation (my first thought is JJ hits his head while jumping, passes out in the water, maybe almost drowns but Kie and the others get him onto the life raft in time) and this is more of a “Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re safe now, we’re okay” hug.

I honestly lean more to the second one based on the little bit of Sarah’s face we saw in the background. To me, it almost looked like she was smiling thru tears, which, fits way more with the second option than the first.

Anyways. Moving on before I burst a lung again.

(also, before anyone comes at me, no, I’m not happy JJ is hurt, obviously.

(Once again, arrest outfits). You can still see the bandage but it looks like Sarah’s limping now too so...good Lord give the girl a break maybe?

Everything in this trailer just went to shit so fast I think I have whip lash, can we go back to the Pogues hanging out and being happy now pkease I liked those scenes.

“I get it. You guys are scared.”

“No.”

She’s cute but, uh, hello sewer scene outfits. Seems like them planning to do whatever the hell they were going to do in the sewers but the boys are starting to get cold feet as maybe they should but hind sight is 20/20 I suppose.

“It’s kind of cute.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should’ve just led with that.”

I will never be able to express how much I adore Pogue banter and general dumbassery and I have a feeling this season will not be lacking in either department

I high key don’t think these two are actually going to be there for this scene to go down but I’ll let it slide this time because-

They do be kinda cute.

It both feels like I’ve been waiting for this damn show for 3 years and also like I just watched season 1 last month explain that to me.

Either way holy shit. I missed this dumb show and these dumb kids so much it physcially hurts and WE GET THEM BACK IN T-MINUS 16 DAYS.

Also. Where The Hell Is Wheezie Cameron And When Will She Have The Rights She Deserves.

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marrys-dream-world · 3 years

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if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter 12)

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Notes: I posted on AO3 yesterday and forgot to post here sooo... I was having a huge writer's block with this fic and I'm still not satisfied with this chapter, but I also don't think it's gonna get any better. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway. Day 12 (what a joke by this point saldkqçkwdqpo) Blush. The beginning of the chapter is a bit off topic but I love it so pls bear with me. Have another one of my Emilie hot takes ig.

Adrien Agreste was a man of science.

It was, perhaps, his mother’s fault. His father was clearly the unholy mix of a man of the arts and a businessman, combining the worst of both worlds, if Nino was to be believed. Adrien let out a soft protest at that, but couldn’t really disagree. His father was all cold businessman and artist with a vision (Plagg often asked what vision it could be if he went dressed around like that and allowed Adrien to wear orange shoes, however, kwamis weren’t allowed fashion opinions so he didn’t pay attention to that). His mother was a completely different story.

Many people thought Emilie Agreste was an artist, through and through. After all, even with her outstanding beauty and ridiculous wealth, she worked in indie films and plays that managed to catch her fancy, managing her time between productions that made waves across France and small movies produced by a friend that had few copies to spare. Adrien knew better. His mother was also a gifted scholar, she loved studying things and figuring them out. He had asked her, when he was young, why she traveled so much and put so many acting jobs aside, and she had said acting was a hobby, learning was her life.

Like mother, like son then. Being an impressionable young child with only one friend and copious amounts of free time in his hands, Adrien tried to mirror the behaviour of the person he admired the most: his mother. He would join her in her study, very unlike father’s, which was a little messy and always warm and welcoming and he was always allowed in before she got sick and everyone stopped caring about him. He would sit beside her in the little desk she commissioned just for him and study basic science, devouring book after book

and falling in love with the way the world just worked.

“I’m gonna be a scientist when I grow up!” He said once at the dinner table. His mother smiled indulgently, but his father wasn’t as kind.

“Don’t be foolish, Adrien.” He admonished. “You won’t waste your time with such things, you’ll work with me as a model. We can’t let your perfect looks go to waste.”

His mother didn’t say anything to defend him, she never did. However, she winked at him as his father’s eyes left him. He straightened up then, that little gesture never failing to make him feel like they both knew something his father didn’t. These days, Adrien feels like maybe he hadn’t know anything at all.

Anyway, no matter how much his father tried to discourage him, Adrien Agreste was still a man of science and that meant experiments! He would usually not try out a behavioural experiment, but it was, as a lot of good stuff in his life was, Nino’s fault. Both had been discussing an art project with Alya and Marinette...

"This is really good, Marinette." He said sincerely, leafing through her and Alya's booklet.

Marinette seemed to shrink, blushing a little and smiling awkwardly, a sharp contrast to Alya, who only puffed up.

"I know, right?" Alya grinned, slipping her arm over Marinette's shoulder.

"I-it's nothing, really. Just a school project hehe." Marinette, taking the book back as Adrien offered.

"Everyone did theirs, but yours is a standout." Adrien said, smiling softly. Her work was amazing and he would say it as many times as it would take for her to believe it.

Marinette turned beet red at that, stammering something incomprehensible and dashing out of the classroom's door. Alya cracked out a laugh, quickly following after her. He watched them confusedly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Dude, you gotta stop doing that." Nino said, sighing.

Adrien raised an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"Being all earnest and stuff." Nino answered, clasping his hands together and widening his eyes in a mockery of his best friend. "Oh, Marinette, you're so talented! You're so smart! You're so-"

"I don't talk like that." Adrien pouted. He didn't, did he?

"Yeah, you do." His friend snorted. "It drives the girls wild, even the ones that don't have a crush on you."

"You say that like a lot of girls have a crush on me." He rolled his eyes, other than his fans, the only ones who had a crush on him were Chloe and, the jury was still out on that one, Lila.

Nino gulped. "I mean, yeah, because of your fans and all! Not Marinette, she doesn't have a crush on you at all! She doesn't like you, even. She barely likes you as a friend!"

His heart fell. "Marinette barely likes me as a friend?"

"No! That's not what I meant!" Nino groaned. "Marinette does like you as a friend, okay, dude? I just word-vomited for no reason. Just don't go around being all you like that on her, she'll blush so hard she'll explode."

“Nino, you’re exaggerating.” Adrien had said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, you say that now, but try it with any girl and see how they react.” Nino answered, mockingly rolling his eyes back.

He had shrugged at the time, but the question stayed in the back of his mind. Adrien was aware that he was good-looking, it was maybe the only thing his hard-to-please father ever complimented him on, but to make even girls that weren’t attracted to him blush? It seemed very far off. However, he knew his mind wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon. Adrien had a bad habit of not letting things go, Plagg said. So it looks like conducting an experiment was on the table and there was only one girl he would be comfortable trying it out with.

"Thanks, Marinette." Adrien said as he picked up a macaron from the box she brought to share with the class.

She flushed slightly, nothing so out of the usual that it would prove Nino's theory. "Y-you're welcome, Adrien."

"Did you help your dad make them?"

"Oh, I made them myself, I had some time to go to the kitchen lately." She said, eyes lighting up. "I missed it."

"It tastes great, Marinette." He said, making sure to smile and soften his gaze a little. It was actually hard to not do that around his friend, after all. "You're really talented."

Her face went fire truck red in a matter of seconds, mouth falling open and eyes going a little glazed over. Nothing out of the usual, but that was the thing: Marinette was always like that around him. Whenever he talked to her, a pretty blush would fill her cheeks and her blue eyes would go wide. Was he really so powerful that being earnest was enough to make a girl that only saw him strictly platonically blush like that?

“It’s our raw magnetism, kid.” Plagg told him solemnly when Adrien explained his theory. “Nothing we can do about it, girls better watch out.”

They spared a minute of silence for all the girls struck by their lady killer charms.

“Hey, Plagg, when you say all girls…” His lady’s adorable face flashed in his mind.

“Yeah, no, kid, dream on.”

However, it must be said again: Adrien Agreste is a man of science and he would never fail to experiment on a hypothesis.

Their next patrol was quiet, jumping through the rooftops and climbing down to comfort civilians separately. He could feel Ladybug’s eyes boring into his back at every confused glance she threw his way. The silence unsettled her, he knew that, but as much as he wanted to reassure her, he also had to create the perfect setting for his experiment.

“A bit quiet today, weren’t you, Chaton?” His lady asked when they finally settled down, nonchalant tone costrating with her twitching fingers.

“Oh, I was just struck speechless.” He said, voice purposefully serious as to not arouse suspicion.

“By what?” Ladybug frowned.

“By you.” He smiled and she started to roll her eyes when he continued. “You’re really kind, my lady.”

She blinked owlishly. “What?”

“Every time I turn my back to you on patrol, when I look back you’re talking to someone. Comforting that little girl whose ice cream fell, getting that kite stuck in a tree. It’s not even just today, you always do that. I’ve never met anyone who does it as effortlessly as you do.”

The words flew easily from his tongue. Complimenting Ladybug was often easier than not.

“You’re really kind, Ladybug.” He repeated, only to see her face darken until her cheeks settled into a rosy pink.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again when she noticed it was hanging open. Her blue eyes went wide and shiny. It was the prettiest sight he had ever seen.

Maybe being a man of science has its perks sometimes.

#ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #ml fic #my stuff #if we're bound to be something why not together #miraculous ladybug

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

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glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part three

summary: while mother nature isn’t very kind to the obx, jj’s dad is even worse to him. sailor sees the aftermath, relives a day that changed her life forever, and realizes she’d be down with murder if she could get away with it. between nutella sandwiches, story time, and a shared bed, an unspoken thing slowly starts to become a little more real.

word count: 6.9k+ (oops 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings: abuse/neglect, blood, mentions of parental abandonment/gambling addiction, swearing, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, blatant references to hocus pocus, the little mermaid, percy jackson and the olympians, and mean girls (and a teeny, subtle reference to stranger things, see if y’all can catch it! 😉)

a/n: i was so excited to write this part, not gonna lie (if you couldn’t tell, just look at that word count). hurt/comfort is my shittt and i’m a pretty big slut for physical comfort/touches so i kinda went ham with it lol. i’m also very happy to finally introduce everyone to peyton, who’s a character i really love and enjoy writing, especially her relationship with her gf alison. both of them will get some time to shine in this part, peyton in the present and alison in the past! as usual, this is unbetaed so all mistakes belong to me. enjoy!

gif credit to @sci-fi

~Masterlist~

part one | part two | part four | playlist

part three: storm surge

It rains the entire week. Scratch that -it storms: the whole island buffeted by howling winds and blanketed by a thick layer of dark and angry clouds that make life just shy of miserable. For someone who spends 99% of her time outside like Sailor, miserable doesn’t begin to cover it. And to think, it’s only the beginning of hurricane season.

The redhead props her chin in one tan hand as she leans against the cool marble counter of The Butterscotch Bonnet Ice Cream Parlor, watching the rain pound against the shop’s bay windows. Across the street she can just make out the rough, gray surf of the Atlantic through a tiny gap in between two buildings and she sighs wistfully, thinking about all the beautiful shells getting tossed onto the beach by the waves. She’s half tempted to just throw off her apron, hop the counter, and make a break for the sand, storm be damned.

She’s almost positive she wouldn’t even be missed. There isn’t a customer in sight and there hasn’t been one since she started her shift three hours ago. Peyton was still in the back kitchen, messing around with whatever convoluted ice cream flavor she thought up for this week; her boss definitely has a knack for concocting weird combinations that somehow work together, at least most of the time. Sailor thinks back to a few weeks ago when they debuted that delicious blackberry balsamic that sold out every day without fail, then followed it with a cilantro lime that was hit-or-miss (a definite miss in her opinion, as cilantro just tastes like soap to her; Peyton had just smiled her infectious smile, shrugged her tiny shoulders, and said, “Can’t win ‘em all, I guess.”) This week’s flavor involves mascarpone and peaches and she can’t wait to steal a sample because if the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen is any indication, it’s gonna be bomb, even though it probably won’t upset the shop’s namesake flavor from the top of her list.

Thinking about ice cream makes her kind of hungry, on top of the fact that she has a terrible habit of eating when she’s bored, so she dishes out a small scoop of Butterscotch Bonnet and grabs a spoon before leaning back against the counter, digging through the cup to find the best part: salted caramel-filled chocolate sea shells, made in house. The days Sailor gets to help make them are her favorite days to come to work, when she and Peyton commandeer the kitchen and have the time of their lives, blasting music and dancing as they slave away. Of course, the little bag of chocolates she gets to take home is a pretty big plus, too.

“That’s coming out of your paycheck, Sail.”

Spoon halfway to her mouth, she sheepishly glances up from her snack as Peyton emerges from the kitchen, fondly shaking her head and sending her inky black braids dancing across her shoulders.

“What am I gonna do with you?” She continues with a wink before starting to make herself a milkshake, dropping two scoops of their tiramisu flavor into a malt cup.

“Sorry, you know I can’t help myself!” Sailor knows the other girl was joking but she apologizes anyway and opens the cabinet to grab a cup and straw for her, setting them on the counter beside the old-fashioned milkshake machine. As far as bosses go, Peyton is one of the all-around best to have and the redhead loves working at her shop. While the Buckleys are rich as shit and total kooks, the family’s youngest daughter is down to earth, kind, and prefers to work hard for what she wants instead of flaunting her parents’ wealth and The Butterscotch Bonnet is proof that, despite her last name and penchant for the finer things, she’s a pogue at heart. It’s no wonder Alison’s head over heels for her.

“I also know you’re bored as shit.” Peyton calls over the sound of the blender, sending a knowing smirk toward the younger girl, who rolls her eyes and shovels another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth as she replies, “Obviously. This weather fucking sucks.”

A loud clap of thunder seems to shake the very glass in the windows and she gestures toward the storm outside, her point proven. Peyton glances around the deserted shop, still bright and cheery despite its lack of movement and life, then back to the relentless downpour, before shrugging and turning back to finish blending her milkshake. “Wanna go home early?”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? You’ve already cleaned this whole place from top to bottom and I don’t think we’re gonna be getting customers any time soon.” Ignoring the paper cup, she plops the straw straight into her drink and takes a big sip, then nods in satisfaction before adding a huge swirl of whipped cream on top.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” Sailor asks, smiling excitedly as she grabs her bag from under the counter and tosses her empty cup into the trash.

“Only every day,” the older girl replies cheekily, smiling as she’s pulled into a one-armed hug of thanks by her employee.

“Well, you’re gonna hear it again: you’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peyton pats the redhead’s shoulder with one deep brown hand and then gently pushes her toward the kitchen. “Now get out of here, brat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sailor throws a peace sign over her shoulder as she heads out the door, cackling at her boss’s offended call of “don’t call me ma’am!” After clocking out, she fishes her keys out of her bag and dashes through the downpour to her beat-up clunker of a truck. A hand-me-down from Alison, Flounder’s nothing to look at with all the dents and chips in his blue paint, but he gets her where she needs to go and has room for surfboards in the back and two other pogues up front on the bench seat -and the other two unlucky ones riding in the bed, hiding under the boards- so she’s not complaining, even though she wishes his radio worked more than half the time.

(Two reasons why John B’s almost always the group chauffeur: the fact that he can legally drive all five of them around without breaking the law -not that they’ve ever gotten caught in Sailor’s truck but anyone with a brain knows that where one pogue goes, the other four aren’t far behind- and good music flowing from a perfectly working stereo.)

Unfortunately, it’s on the fritz today so her drive home is spent listening to the sounds of Flounder’s windshield wipers and the pounding of rain against his roof. She heads inland from the beach, away from Peyton’s shop in the outskirts of affluent Figure 8 and its kook mansions to the more homey, laid-back Cut, passing by the turnoff to the Chateau and through the woods before pulling into the empty driveway of her tiny house. The fact that her mother’s car is no where to be found doesn’t surprise her in the slightest. Waiting for her on the porch is Binx, the stray black cat she’s taken to feeding and more or less adopted, stretching on the blanket she left out for him.

“Hey, handsome,” The redhead says, kneeling down to give him a loving scratch behind the ears; he meows in response and rubs his fuzzy face against her ankles, weaving between her legs as she slides her key into the lock. “Come on in.”

The front door closes behind them with a hollow bang that echoes through the empty house like the thunder outside. Sailor hangs up her keys and follows Binx down the hall toward her room, ignoring the closed door that leads to her mom’s room and a bed that she assumes hasn’t been slept in in months. Not that she would know: she’s made it a habit to spend as few nights as possible alone in the house, instead crashing at the Chateau or Kiara’s place and hoping her mom’s comfortable in her makeshift room at The Sandbar where Carmen doesn’t have to deal with the teenager she’s supposed to be caring for (Sailor’s always been an independent girl and has no trouble getting by alone but fuck, that doesn’t mean she wants to.).

Her father’s green eyes, the same color as her own, stare back at her from a picture hanging on the wall of a better time, when everything was alright and her family wasn’t so broken; the three of them on the beach with a twelve year old Sailor in the middle and surfboards in hand. Carmen looks like the mother she remembers and misses so bad it hurts, and while Ryan wasn’t always the most caring of fathers and only acted like a dad when it was convenient, she’d still do anything to have him back, terrible parenting skills and all. She turns away from the picture and the complicated mess her heart becomes when she thinks about him, continuing down the hall to her room.

Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover her feelings about her dad, though. She’s always believed she was an afterthought to him, never first on his list but still good enough to tag along for company when he was doing something he wanted to do. He was a man who liked the idea of having a kid but never wanted to actually step up and parent when things weren’t all fun and games, instead deciding to take off to Atlantic City for a month or two at a time to gamble away whatever money they earned at the surf shop.

She wants to hate him. She should loathe him and in a way, she does. She hates the way he still makes her feel like everything’s her fault, even when he’s not around. She hates the person her mother becomes when he disappears, someone distant and cold and so unlike the good, caring mother Sailor remembers. She hates that home doesn’t feel like home anymore and it’s all his fault, and she hates that despite everything he’s put her through, all the hurt he’s caused, she still can’t find it in her big, bleeding heart to truly detest her father. After all, he could’ve been worse. So, so much worse.

The only place she can get away from everything is her room, her own little sanctuary from the cold emptiness of the rest of the house and constant reminders of Ryan’s absence. It’s warm and bright, the walls painted a sunny yellow that reminds her of lazy days relaxing on the beach. Her first surfboard hangs on the wall above her bed, tucked away in a corner, doubling as a shelf for her massive shell collection while pictures of her and her friends dangle underneath, pinned to a long piece of twine. Her current boards stand propped in another corner, leaning against a wall plastered with all types of movie and music posters. Through the windows covered with curtains as light as sea foam, the rain steadily pours but in here, she’s safe. In here, she can breathe.

Sailor strips off her uniform, tossing it along with her bag onto the chair by the door and slips out of her worn red high-tops before pulling on a pair of sleep shorts and the first long-sleeve shirt her fingers find in the closet, then flops onto her bed and pulls the soft blue blanket around her shoulders, reading glasses and well-loved copy of The Lightning Thief in hand while Binx curls up at her feet. Every summer without fail she rereads the series (why, she’s not exactly sure: maybe its nostalgia, maybe its because she lowkey relates to water-loving, steadfastly loyal Percy) and she’s fallen behind this year, so she fully intends on reading as much as she can tonight before bed. The storm provides perfect background noise and soon she’s five chapters in before a sudden loud knock on her window causes her head to snap up in alarm.

Oh no. Without bothering to save her place, she tosses the book and her glasses aside and scrambles from the bed to the window, tearing open the curtains to reveal a sight she always dreads seeing. Her best friend stands outside in the rain, soaked to the bone, hand pressed against his side, and the sight of bright red blood trailing down his face and staining the collar of his gray shirt makes her heart drop to her stomach. Wordlessly, she opens the window and helps him climb inside before closing it firmly and drawing the curtains, once again blocking the world from her -now their- sanctuary, then grabs her blanket from the bed and wraps it tightly around JJ’s shaking shoulders after he kicks off his sodden boots.

Her hand slowly moves to cup his face and her heart breaks a little more when he tenses, blue eyes carefully tracking its movement until he seems to remember who it belongs to and lets himself lean into her touch, cheek resting against her palm. Sailor runs her thumb under his split lip and and wipes at the crimson staining his tan skin, her mouth curving into a small frown when she only succeeds in smearing it further.

“Come on,” She breaks the silence with her gentle voice, barely above a whisper, and reaches her other hand out to take his, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

His fingers hold so, so tight as she leads him down the hall to the bathroom and she’s so laser-focused on the way they tremble against hers that she doesn’t notice the blood left behind on the handle when she opens the door. After flicking on the light she turns to face him and gently pushes the blanket from his shoulders with her free hand, letting it fall to the floor in a damp heap, then blindly reaches behind her to turn on the shower, cranking the heat as high as it’ll go.

“Sorry about your blanket.” JJ says at last, his voice quiet, and Sailor shakes her head, running her thumb in circles on the back of his cold hand.

“I don’t care about that, J.” She replies just as quiet and before she can stop herself, before she can think about what exactly she’s about to admit, she adds, “I care about you.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a barely-there smile and while it may be tiny, it’s a smile nonetheless and she feels the tight knot in her chest begin to loosen as she lets go of his hand, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Can you lift your arms for me?”

He does as she asks but his pained wince doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead when she pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on top of the discarded blanket, and her jaw clenches at the sight of deep purple bruises in the shape of his father’s fists marring the skin over his ribs.

“Let me know if this hurts.” Oh so carefully she reaches out with one hand and gently touches the darkest mark, where she’d seen him clutching at outside her window, her fingers delicately feeling for any damages.

“A little.” He admits, shaky breath warm against her forehead and she does her best to keep her hand steady as she checks over the rest of him, then feathers her fingers back over that first bruise.

“It doesn’t feel like anything’s broken or cracked, so that’s good.” She says, allowing her hand to linger for a second before letting it fall from his side. “A rib or two might be a little bruised, though, so we’ll put some ice on them later, just in case. Sound good?”

JJ nods and watches her with those ocean blue eyes as she pulls her own shirt over her head, leaving her in a plain black cami and shorts, before grabbing his hand once again and pulling him into the shower with her. The water’s just a tad too hot and it instantly starts turning her skin red but Sailor doesn’t mind, instead choosing to embrace the heat and the way it burns everything away, leaving behind brand new skin that’s ready for a new day, new adventures. She reaches up and gingerly wipes the blood from her best friend’s face; in a mirror of earlier, he leans his cheek into her palm, eyes slowly closing while both arms wrap around her waist and pull her close.

“Sail,” He whispers her nickname into the humid air between them and she barely registers the tremble in his voice before his knees buckle, sinking them both to the shower floor until they’re face to face, sitting in between each other’s legs. He clings to her, arms even tighter around her waist and face buried against her neck, and she feels the shake of his shoulders when she winds her own arms around them. One hand moves to steadily run through wet blond hair, over and over, comforting in the best way she knows how, the fingers of her other hand tracing circles on the bare skin of his back as water continues to rain down on them like the downpour outside.

She’s eerily reminded of another time they sat like this, sobbing in each other’s arms five years ago, the first time she saw just how cruel his father could be, the first time she realized she’d do absolutely everything and anything to keep him safe, and it was both one of the best and worst days of her life.

Eleven year old Sailor shoved her math textbook into her cluttered locker and kicked it shut with a scowl. She hated math, her math teacher, and especially whoever made her schedule- who in their right mind would put math in eighth-period? She swung her backpack onto her shoulder and grunted softly at the extra weight it carried. JJ hadn’t come to school that day and Sailor had volunteered to take his missed work to him; it made sense, considering she lived closest out of the pogues and it’d make her feel better if she got to check on him herself -there was a reason the rest of the group called her the mom friend, after all.

She’d already collected assignments from the classes he shared with Pope and Kiara as well as herself, so now she was just waiting for John B to drop off his own. As if summoned by her thoughts, the brunet boy rounded the corner and waved, weaving his way to her through their fellow middle-schoolers. “Sorry, you know how Mr. Jefferson likes to go on and on and on...” He said, pulling some papers from his backpack and handing them to the redhead. “Do you remember where J’s house is?”

Sailor rolled her eyes and carefully slid the homework into her own bag. “Considering I live, like, five streets away, I sure hope so.” She fired back, ignoring his cackle of laughter as they joined the rush of students, excited for the weekend, flooding out through the double doors of Kildare County Middle School. She lingered by her friend as he unlocked his bike from the rack and then climbed on, asking, “You’re helping out at the shop on Saturday, right?”

She nodded, scanning the sea of waiting cars and waving when she spotted her ride. “Yeah, why?”

“My dad and I are gonna hang out at the beach that day so we’ll stop by and say hi.” With a casual salute in her direction he slowly started pedaling down the road, calling back over his shoulder, “Tell JJ he can come too if he’s feeling better!”

“Tell him yourself!” She yelled after his retreating back, not surprised in the slightest when he didn’t turn around and disappeared into the trees. Alison’s beat up blue truck pulled up to the curb seconds later and the older redhead leaned out the open window, a shit-eating grin on her face as she joked, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Sailor laughed and climbed into the passenger seat, dropping her backpack on the floor with a loud thump. Alison winced at the sound, raising her eyebrow as she waited for the younger girl to put her seatbelt on. “What the hell do you have in there, rocks?”

“One of my friends missed school today so I have his homework. Do you mind driving by so I can drop it off? He only lives a few streets away.”

“Sure,” Alison replied, flicking on her turn signal and merging into the stream of cars leaving the school’s parking lot. “So who skipped: Smarty Pants, Bandana Boy, or Surfer Bro?”

The eleven year old giggled at the nicknames -she’d never admit it, but they were honestly pretty accurate- and replied, “Surfer Bro. And his name is JJ, Ali.”

“Rightttt, JJ. What do you think it stands for, huh? Jesse James? John Jacob?”

“Oh my Godddddd!”

The high school senior continued to come up with names, each more ridiculous than the last until Sailor exclaimed “There!” and directed her to park near a small, run-down house on a quiet road. She pulled a folder from her backpack and was out the door before the older girl could blink, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back!”

The redhead slammed the truck door behind her and made her way toward the porch and what she assumed was the front door; she’d never been inside JJ’s house but he always came out to meet them through there so she figured it was a safe bet. The smile fell from her face, ears registering the sound of horrible, angry yelling just as she brought her fist down to knock and she anxiously fidgeted back and forth on the step, her heart starting to beat fast in her chest. What the hell was going on?

"Fucking hell!” An enraged shout came clear as day from inside and as she heard the person’s stomping approach, something in her, a feeling, urged her to hide the folder in her hand behind her back. She jumped in surprise when the door was suddenly ripped open, revealing a fuming, red-faced man who glared down at her with heavily lidded eyes and one hand clenched in a fist at his side, the other holding the threshold in a white-knuckled grip. “What the hell do you want?”

“H-hi, I’m Sailor, one of JJ’s friends? He wasn’t at school today so I came by to check on him.” She said, proud of herself for keeping most of the tremble out of her voice while she studiously avoided his cruel gaze, instead subtly trying to peer behind him and hopefully catch a glimpse of her friend. The man, who she realized with sheer horror had to be JJ’s dad, was absolutely terrifying, with breath reeking of booze and mouth curled into a vicious snarl as he moved to block her view into the house and snapped, “Kid’s fine. Now get the fuck outta here.”

“Can I just see-”

She was cut off when he slammed the door in her face with the hand that had been by his side and her eyes widened, stomach sinking with dread as she caught sight of the splotch of bright crimson left behind on the wood. Oh, God. This could not be happening. She remembered John B’s warning about JJ’s dad, saying he wasn’t a very nice man when she became friends with them last year but she didn’t recall him ever saying anything about this and it hits her like a freight train: he probably didn’t know. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. If JB didn’t know then Pope and Kiara definitely didn’t and a sickening feeling started to churn her belly, both at the thought of JJ facing all of this by himself and the fact that she alone had the power to help.

Inside the house, she heard his dad resume his screaming, every other word accompanied by a sickening thumping noise she’d only heard in person once before, a few years ago on the beach with her parents when two drunk tourons started wailing on each other over a spilled beer: the sound of a fist hitting flesh. Sailor started to panic, both hands flying to cover her mouth in terror. Underneath the screaming and punching, she couldn’t hear anything, any cry or yelp or whimper from her friend and, mind racing with million terrible, awful thoughts, she turned and ran back to the truck, flinging open the door and scrambling inside to grab Alison’s arm, folder in her hands falling to the floor.

“Ali, please, we’ve got to help him-”

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” The older girl joked as she looked up from her phone, smile falling from her lips when she caught sight of the eleven year old’s pale face and wide eyes. She reached over and placed her hands on Sailor’s slight, trembling shoulders. “What’s going on?”

Her lip quivered terribly as she told Alison everything she saw and heard, watching her expression slowly twist into outright dismay, the fingers on her shoulders tightening their grip when she finished, “Ali, what’re we gonna do? We have to help him right now!”

“Fuck, okay, first off let’s calm down- don’t give me that look, kid! We can’t just burst in there like Wonder Woman or something, let me- oh, look!” Alison pointed through windshield, where JJ’s dad furiously stalked from the house to his truck, climbing inside and violently slamming the door before taking off in a cloud of dust. Sailor quickly ducked when he drove by and stayed down until the older redhead gave her the all clear, “He’s gone. That was perfect timing, huh?”

She didn’t reply or even wait for her to unbuckle her seatbelt, taking off at a sprint and bounding onto the porch in no time, furiously knocking against the door. “Hey, J, are you there? It’s Sailor.”

There was no reply and her heart dropped to her stomach. Alison joined her on the front step, her face blanching when her eyes landed on the blood stain on the corner of the door. One of her hands reached out to grab the handle while the other found Sailor’s smaller one and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Come on,” With no hesitation and the bravery Sailor wished she had, the eighteen year old pushed the door open and pulled them both into the dusky house. The younger redhead wrinkled her nose at the sight of beer cans and pill bottles littering a circle around the couch but she pressed on, calling his name as the girls moved room to room.

“Sail?” The sound of JJ’s pained voice coming from the room at the end of the hall made her heart skip a beat and she dropped Alison’s hand, running forward and bursting through the door in a rush, not even thinking about what state her friend might’ve been in. Feeling like she’d just been sucker punched right in the gut at the sight of him lying face down on the floor with a small puddle of blood forming under his mouth, she dropped to her knees beside him and delicately took his hand in both of hers, nearly crying in relief when his fingers gripped tight to her palm. Behind her, she heard Alison’s sharp intake of breath as she entered the room, darting over to kneel on JJ’s other side and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, and together they carefully helped him roll onto his back, then up into a sitting position with the older girl’s arm behind him as a brace.

Her jaw trembled as she tried and tried to say something, anything; her head was filled with so many questions -what happened, how could he do this, when did this start?- but the only thing she managed to ask was a simple, “Why?”

“It’s just what he does.” He replied with a shrug, wincing at the movement, “I’m sorry, Sail.”

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” She asked incredulously, then followed his finger as he pointed at a pile of jagged yellowish-brown pieces on the floor by his bed.

“He broke the shell you gave me.” He looked so upset, so distraught over the broken whelk and she felt her heart swell with waves of affection for her friend, who was more concerned about her broken gift than he was about himself.

“Hey,” She said softly, turning away from the mess to look him in the eye with a small smile, her hand reaching out on its own accord to brush a lock of fine blond hair away from a cut near his temple. “It’s just a shell, okay? I’ll find you another one.”

The sight of blood on his teeth when he returned her smile reminded her of the task at hand and she shook her head, wrapping her thin arm around his waist. “Let’s get you out of here. Think you can stand?” At his nod, both girls put one of his arms around their shoulders and slowly stood, shuffling out the door with all the grace and speed of an old man with two bad knees, but hey, they were moving and getting JJ out of that terrible place, so she’d go as slow as they needed to, even if her anxiety was getting worse and worse with each passing second they spent in the house.

After loading the kids onto the bench seat of the truck, Alison quickly drove them to the empty Flynn residence -Carmen and Ryan still working at the shop- and helped Sailor move JJ into the bathroom. “I’ll go grab you some towels and dry clothes, okay? I think some of your dad’s old stuff might fit him.” She said, watching as the young girl kneeled beside her friend and started untying his shoes.

The eleven year old nodded at her older friend and sent her a small smile. “Thanks, Ali.”

“No problem, kiddos.” With a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes she was gone, heading down the hall toward the laundry room.

Sailor reached over and turned the shower on as hot as possible. “Okay, um, take as long as you need, I guess. I’ll wait outside.” She jerked her thumb toward the hall but before she could even take a step, his hand darted out and grabbed her wrist.

“Stay.” It was more of a demand than a question and JJ seemed embarrassed to even be saying it, the uninjured parts of his face turning an endearing shade of pink. “Please?”

She just nodded and reached a leg out to gently kick the door shut, her mind racing. She stayed but what the hell should she do now, keep her back turned? Get in the shower with him? From the way he was fidgeting back and forth and avoiding her eyes, he was probably thinking the same thing.

“Oh, come on.” She finally said after a minute or two of decidedly not looking at each other and kicked off her sandals, darting forward on impulse to grab his hand and pull them both under the spray. The water uncomfortably soaked into their clothes and made their movements sluggish as they clumsily shuffled around -stepping on each other’s toes and mumbling identical apologies- before finding a position that was only a little bit awkward in the confined space, his arms on either side of her waist and bracing against the wall, her hands tentatively resting on his shoulders.

“This okay?” She asked, feeling her cheeks reddening from more than just the steam curling around them and frizzing her hair, and JJ nodded, swallowing thickly and blinking away a droplet of red-tinged condensation that slid down his forehead. Her hand, moving on its own accord, slowly reached for his face until her palm gently came to rest against his flushed cheek, the tip of her pointer finger just brushing a small cut that sliced through one eyebrow.

“How...” Sailor shook her head, taking a deep breath before finally asking the question that’d been on her mind since this whole thing started, “How long has this been happening?”

Once again he avoided her wide-eyed gaze, eyelids fluttering shut as he answered hesitantly, quietly, “I...I don’t remember a time when it didn’t.”

His answer chipped away the last brick in the dam and the floodgates broke. She flung herself into his chest, arms wrapping around his shoulders and fingers twisting in the sodden fabric of his shirt, sobbing into the warm skin of his neck. He froze in her embrace, whole body stock-still until something in him seemed to break too, and his own arms encircled her waist, bit by bit, pulling her close as he buried his face into her shoulder and two sixth graders slowly slumped to the shower floor in a tangled mess of limbs.

“J, why didn’t you say anything?”

His body trembled in her arms and she inhaled sharply at his reply of, “Because I’m not worth it.”

Pulling away from his neck to rest her forehead against his, she cupped his face in both hands and forced him to look her in the eyes, her voice quiet but adamant, insistent as she said, “Don’t you dare say that again, got it? You are worth it. So, so worth it.”

The look behind his red-rimmed, ocean blue gaze was made of pure, unadulterated disbelief and Sailor, at a loss, wracked her brain for something, anything she could do to make him see himself the way she did: loyal, adventurous, funny, and oh so brave, already a beloved, dear friend to her in the short time she’d known him. How could she help him realize he was so much more than his father’s abuse?

‘What can I do to make you believe me?’

An epiphany came to her like a bolt of lightning straight to the heart. It was more than a little crazy and the thought of actually doing it was lowkey terrifying but she’d seen it work beautifully for Alison and her girlfriend Peyton that one time and hell, she was so desperate to help her friend that she’d do just about anything. And so before her anxious mind could start to overthink she surged forward, both hands still holding his face in a gentle grip, and firmly pressed her lips to his.

JJ’s eyes were almost comically wide while he stared, frozen still at her touch, and her own eyes were just as huge as she held the kiss for a few seconds and then abruptly pulled back, her face slowly changing into a shade very similar to her hair.

“Y-you, I-” He stuttered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as a deep pink flush started to color the tan skin of his neck. “Wh-why-”

“Because you are worthy, J. Promise me you won’t forget that.” Her words were as fierce as the hug she pulled him into, only letting the tension bleed out of her when she felt him gradually return her embrace and nod against her shoulder.

“I promise, Sail.”

“Good.”

And with that they fell silent, holding each other tight until the shower ran cold.

Sailor didn’t know it at the time but that hadn’t been just her first kiss but JJ’s too, as they never talked about it until two years later, during a game of truth or dare with the rest of the pogues. Neither actually told the truth, both giving a vague answer about a bet that seemed to placate their friends enough to let the matter drop, never to be brought up again.

The only kiss that happens today is the light brush of her lips against his forehead as she holds him close, even as the water slowly begins to lose its warmth. His embrace is tight, their limbs intertwined so fully that it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins and when he speaks, she has to strain to hear the words mumbled against her neck over the pounding spray of the shower.

“I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His confession cuts her deep. Hearing him admit something so utterly heartbreaking and vulnerable, coming from the side of him Sailor alone gets to see, ignites a fury that simmers under her skin and burns her from the inside out, thoughts turning venomous and, dare she say, downright homicidal. Fuck his dad. Fuck his dad and everything he’s ever done to hurt her best friend, both with and without fists.

“If I could get away with murder, I would.”

It’s true. For JJ, she’d do anything and everything to keep him safe without hesitation, up to and including maiming his dad so he could never touch him again (and if she happened to take it a little too far and straight up kill the bastard, she’d most definitely be fine with it.). He laughs, but it’s empty, hollow, and sorely lacking the joy, the carefreeness, the pure life that it normally radiates.

“You’re not the only one.”

Some time later, after the water raining down on them turns ice cold and their tears have dried, they reluctantly disentangle themselves from each other and towel off before making a quick detour to the kitchen to grab an ice pack for his ribs and have a meager dinner of sandwiches made with the last of her bread and a near empty jar of Nutella. He laughs, for real this time, when he reads the note she writes herself on the fridge future sailor, as much as you want to, you can’t live off just nutella and sheer spite, okay? please go shopping. love, past sailor <3 and grabs the marker out of her hand, adding +past jj and a little smiley face that makes her smile brightly.

They return to her room where they change, back to back, into dry clothes -one of her dresser drawers is full of his things she’s stolen acquired over the years- and, after throwing everything wet, including their discarded shirts and blanket retrieved from the bathroom, into the washing machine to be dealt with some other time, they lie on her bed side by side, shoulder to shoulder, wrapped up together in a spare throw stashed at the bottom of her closet. Binx slinks up from his spot at their feet and lazily drapes himself across their laps, purring like a motorboat when Sailor starts running her hand along his back.

“I almost sat on those,” JJ says, handing over her glasses, “and this.” He holds her forgotten book in his hands, casually flipping through the pages before turning it over and scanning the back cover.

“Have you read it before?”

He shrugs, a barely-there grimace briefly twisting his features as the motion jostles his sore ribs. “Started it, never finished.”

“Well,” She starts, slipping her glasses on and snatching the book out of his grasp, “how about we fix that? I’ll read, you pet the cat.”

Sailor’s voice is soft and steady as she starts to read aloud, a content smile on her face that’s echoed by the boy lying beside her when she settles against his side, head pillowed on the arm he curls around her shoulders without a thought. JJ’s the near perfect listener, only snickering once or twice at her total butchering of some of the more difficult Greek names (how come she can say Hephaestus just fine but gets tripped up on Dionysus?) but otherwise hanging off her every word and the relaxed ease with which he runs his hand through the ends of her damp hair fills her with a warmth, a happiness that she can’t describe but never wants to stop.

Hidden away from the rest of the world, curled up together on her bed, they forget the day’s past horrors and replace them with bright hopes for the future, exchanging comforting touches, deliberate yet played off as unintentional, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp -a caress of knuckles here, a brush of a palm there- as she reads into the night, until the cloudy sky darkens to black and they’re both fighting off the languid pull of sleep.

“I think that’s enough for today.” He plucks the book from her hands without waiting for a response and marks their place with a gas station receipt she was using as a makeshift placeholder, and setting it on the beside drawer.

“It’s your turn to read tomorrow,” He takes her glasses off with gentle fingers as she speaks into what little space still exists between them (that’s not otherwise occupied by Binx), smiling at the slow graze of his thumb along her cheek and nestles further against his side. “I’m done botching the names of deities for a while.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Damn it, Sailor kind of hates it when he says that cause it makes her feel things that she’s not quite ready to think about yet. Thankfully, her blush is swallowed by the darkness as he turns off the light and settles down beside her, arm slung low over her waist; her hand carefully brushes against his bruised ribs over the old shirt he wears, ice pack long ago thawed and thrown somewhere onto the hardwood floor.

“How do these feel? Better?”

She feels JJ nod, his chin brushing the top of her head. “Much.” There’s a pause, long enough that she starts to feel like she’s about to nod off, then he whispers, “Thank you, Sail. I know I don’t say it enough.”

She takes a deep breath, fingers stilling on his side, “Because you don’t need to, J. Remember what I said earlier, in the bathroom?”

He nods again but doesn’t reply, instead drawing circles on the small of her back, so she takes it as a cue to continue, “I care about you, okay? You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just...doing what feels right.”

After a beat, the arm she’s using as a pillow curls and pulls her tighter against him as he says quietly, almost shyly, “I care about you, too.”

The rain outside had slowed to a drizzle without either teenager noticing and the gentle pitter-patter against the roof casts a somnolent spell into the air, dazed and dreamy. It wraps around the pair, not unlike the way they wrap around each other, and slowly, easily, safely, they drift off as one.

let me know what you think!

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zairapvrker · 4 years

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I just love soft dad cal so so much! What if they were all moving to a new house and maybe one of the kids is in a huge tantrum like crying on the floor not wanting to move and soft dad cal would have to reassure them that it's all good as he takes the kid into his arms and even though they kinda big enough for being carried around he gives them a tour as he holds them that's so so cute:(

that is so cute🥺 thanks for requesting hun, hope you’ll like this! xx

masterlist | other dad!cal with twins stuff by yours truly [ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ]

Maisie and Kai weren’t so keen on moving. They liked the house they grew up in so much and didn’t want to leave it behind. The waterworks began almost immediately on moving day, the twins reluctant of going away and you and Calum, already being stressed out by the process, were being stern with them. You didn’t wish to be, but their behaviour called for it.

“Maisie, come on! We gotta go to the new house” you had just finished talking with the movers and were pushing the kids to get in the car so you could all drive up to the new house.

“No” she said coldly, leaning against the kitchen island with her arms crossed. If you’d learned anything from Calum was that sometimes bribery was the only thing that could win them over, and your nerves were already done with trying any more for today.

“We’ll get ice cream when we get there” you heard yourself say, holding a hand out to her. She sighed, looking conflicted. After all, she’d promised her brother to help him stop the move, but she really enjoyed the thought of ice cream and a nap as well.

“Maisie, please, these people helping us move are waiting for us to drive with them to the new house” you tried to reason. “There’s no time for being silly”

“I’m not being silly!” she stomped her foot while yelling.

“They’re working, you know? They probably have other families to help today and you’re making them wait” you hoped that explaining to her what was happening on a larger scale would help. The little girl sighed again, moving from the spot over to you. You crouched down with a small smile, welcoming her in a hug. “Kai doesn’t wanna leave, I was helping him” she confessed against your chest, voice muffled. “I’m sad we’re leaving but he really doesn’t want to” your heart broke at her confession as you hugged her tighter.

“I’m proud of you for helping your brother, love, but you’ll see he’ll come around just like you did” pulling away slightly to look at her, you brought a hand up to cup her cheek, you thumb gently rubbing her skin. “You’ll help him with that as well, along with me and dad?” you asked, earning a nod. You smiled at her, standing up and offering your hand for her to hold.

Calum wasn’t being as lucky as you were. Kai was laying on the floor of his old bedroom, crying and not allowing him to come too close. “Kai, please, we really need to go now” he tried for the hundredth time, apparently failing.

“I don’t want that stupid new house!” the boy yelled back, leaving Calum with no clue on how to handle the situation. He’d tried everything in his power, even ice cream. Walking closer to him, he tried to help him sit up, avoiding flying hands and feet aimed at him and finally succeeding. “Buddy, what’s wrong?” he asked, his heart aching at the sight of his son so distraught over the move.

“This is our house, I don’t want a new one” the little boy voiced through the sobs, finally allowing himself to hide in his father’s chest and continuing to cry. Calum hated seeing him like this, his soft sobs echoing in his own chest. Picking him up was easy from there, and Kai surprisingly let him, his little arms going around hid dad’s neck. Calum groaned a little standing up. “Oh how you’ve grown, my boy” but he didn’t let him go.

Kai was still crying meekly, wetting his shirt, when he started walking around the bedroom. “How about we say goodbye, yeah?” he proposed to his son. “It’s not the end of anything buddy, we just need a house where you can have your big boy room, now” he suggested, hoping it’d help. He felt him nod a little, and Calum’s heart grew lighter.

“Alright then, let’s start out goodbyes” he said, starting to take a tour of the house they’d lived in for so long. He made sure to cover every room and closet, bathroom, the backyard and even the laundry room. Kai, along the way, remembered some of the happenings that had taken place in every room and Calum contributed with some the boy couldn’t remember, like his and his sister’s first steps or when they decided to draw on the wall. He told him about how mad you were to come home and find him sitting down with them, a crayon in his hand as well. That earned him a quiet laugh from the boy. They shared memories made in the house, Calum promising they’d have a lot of new ones.

By the end, when they reached the fron door and opened it, they found you and Maisie sat on the steps waiting for them. You recognized the look on Calum’s face immediately.

“Kids, why don’t you go sit in the car and decide your ice cream flavours?” they nodded, running towards the parked vehicle and getting in.

You walked up to your husband, your hand immediately finding his to hold. “Did he make you cry?” you asked, letting your other hand brush softly up and down his bicep.

“We took a trip down memory lane, yeah” he nodded, looking at you. You offered him a small smile before pressing a loving kiss to his lips.

“We really gotta go, but I’ll buy comfort ice cream for you too, alright?” that made him snicker, the two of you starting to walk hand in hand to the car.

“Aren’t you sad?” he asked just before getting opening the door on his side.

“Of course I am” you said quietly. “I’m just waiting for this hell of a move to be over so I can cry in bed tonight when you’re all asleep”

Calum smiled at you, ever the strong one, as you both got into the car and offered you another kiss before putting his seatbelt on, earning some ew’s from the twins. You both laughed as he started the car.

“New house, here we come!” he exclaimed, driving away followed by the moving trucks.

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Ducktales 87 Review: A Whale of A Bad Time (Catch as Cash Can Part 2)

A SEA MONSTER ATE MY ICE CREAM! Yup come with me under the cut as I cover one of the most infamous moments of all Ducktales.. and the absolutely bonkers episode attached involving robot ice cream trucks, giant robotic whales, Optimus Prime as a navy admiral, and semen.. er seaman Donald Duck! All of this and more commissioned by @weirdkev27 is waiting under the ocean and under the cut! Come aboard!

So yeah....

And not the adventure time or regular show or what have you kind of intetionally weird I mean all the elements just sort of conjeal into a mess of poor decisions in and out of universes, robotic whales and the most insane scheme to get a noble peace prize of all time. If that and the intro didn’t hook you I don’t know what will, let’s do this.

PREVIOUSLY ON DUCKTALES:

Okay maybe not THAT previously... guess I gotta do this myself. *Grumble grumble* : Last time we met a steoyptical-ish foreign leader give Scrooge and Glomgold a deadline to literally weigh their fortunes in his country at ten days, with Glomgold’s sending the Beagle Boys after Scrooge in an attempt to cheat.. and springing from jail in a giant blimp shaped like a cow because your guess is as good as mine. Scrooge naturally won and here we are. As said last time, these episodes were still basically written as done in ones, able to be digested on their own, just with the overall framework of the four parter, in this case Scrooge and Glomgold’s contest, tieing it together. So with that out of the way.

We open as Duckburg is hit with a heatwave.

No that’s Heat Wave.. and besides he works out of central city, not Duckberg silly.. wherever those images come from.. me I guess? I dunno. Point is the boys are sweaty and uncomfortable, just like me 90 percent of the time, and decide to cool off by visiting Scrooge’s new ice cream factory for free samples. We’re only about a minute, and a recap about the contest on the news, in and already the characters this episode are acting kind of dumb.. get used to it. One of Scrooge’s primary, most consistent, most iron clad character traits is he does NOT give away something for nothing. Even for Charity he’ll often try and pench pennies and how much he donates, and in older harsher comics like Carl Barks famous “A Christmas For Shacktown” good luck getting him to donate any money to anyone else AT ALL. If he DOES give someone a gift, it’s usually with an alterior motive or some sort of scheme brewing, with Donald or the Nephews or all four rightly questioning him. The idea any factory of any product of his would give out samples unless he got something out of doint so or that they wouldn’t be tiny or use flavors that don’t sell or some cost cutting measure like that is nuts and while it’s not out of the boys characters to be stupid it is a bit for them to just blindly think he’d be okay with this. Their soon distracted by other matters once they arrive though as the Guard won’t let them in despite being Huey, Dewey and Louie as much like bill and ted their a package deal, and yes they do a team pose and yes.. it’s actually pretty adorable. Again nepotism has never been a trait of scrooges either boys, why would he start now? They try flagging down one of his ice cream trucks but they totally ignore him. and seem to be driving automatically... they also look human which... yeah. Just.. yeah. The boys are naturally suspicious and plan to ask scrooge at Dinner. This fails because Scrooge isn’t coming and Beakly refuses to let them disturb him on his orders.. and refused to let Webby eat till everyone’s at the table. I’ll come back to Beakly in a second, and there will be blood dumpster.

The boys sleep that night, but are woken up by the ice cream trucks and wondering why the hell their running at night... which yeah is weird and was a bad part of the plan. We’ll get to why that plan’s a bit totally fucked in a second though as the boys assume someone is doing something shady with scrooge’s company and pull a Marty McFly, attaching their skateboards to a bumper and then hopping onto one of the trucks. And given that Magica, the Beagle Boys and Flintheart have all gone up at scrooge several times at this point judging by the episode guides, not to mention all the one off thieves, scumbags, con artists and warlords they’ve fought, you honestly can’t blame them for being super suspicious.

Their suspcions of this being some kind of elaborate theft are semeingly confirmed when instead of , and this is really the flavor they use “Bubble Gum Pistachio Fudge” they find Scrooge’s money. And let’s just take a sec to .. unpack that flavor as none of those go together. I mean in a three scoop cone or bowl maybe, but in the same ice cream your just throwing shit together at that point. And the flavor isn’t outlandish enough to really be a good joke.

I’ts just three flavors jammed together that don’t belong. It’s not like the, ironically in the same year, 87 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle’s love for weird pizza toppings. That.. actually comes off as a joke. It didn’t always land in the episodes i’d seen but I get what their going for. Thanks to this infographic I know they put ALL of this on pizza at some point, omitting actual pizza toppings for obvious reasons: Granola, Licorice, Fudge, Marshmallows, Clams, Peanut Butter, Avacado (Which didn’t sound bad in theory but once I thought about it I winced), Pickles, Asparagus, Butterscotch, Onions (Yes I know this is an actual regular pizza topping but no just.. no.. everyone hones in on anchovies, which i’ve never had but no.. onions are the real scourge of the pizza world), Toast, Tea (okay that one actually shocked me), Clam Sauce, Chocolate Sprinkles, Jelly Beans, Yogurt, Coconut, Strawberries, Oatmeal, Grape Jelly, Gucamole, Tuna, Popcorn, Sardines, Whipped Cream, Bannans and Goulash. The point i’m making is it’s not hard to come up with even a weak wacky flavor of something and it was a weird line to just utterly botch but they somehow did it. Also that the Teenage Mutant Turtles have serious issues to address. I mean onions, really? onions? Guys you can do better... onions are a next mutation topping!

One Tangent Later, the boys and the trucks arrive at the docks where they see the money filled ice cream trucks loading onto a boat and a shadowy mystery man. Who could it be? My money is on

But my money is always on Crab People. It’s likely why i’m poor. But the boys chuck a bag of cash at him, then Louie... prepares to break his legs with a crowbar?

Seriously the truck was automated and they came straight form home. he had to have brought that with him. Whelp at least Louie has a unique character trait: He likes to make people bleed. I don’t know if that’s necessarily a GOOD thing for a 8-10 year old to want to do but it’s better than nothing. Before Louie can get up to a bit of the ultra violence, Huey finds out it’s Scrooge who explains himself: Naturally the sudden new Ice Cream Factory he built in days right next to the bin is a front, and the trucks are his own, a stealthy way to outfox glomgold. While the news said he was transporting the loot by air, he’s doing it by sea stealthily to prevent glomgold from attacking it. Which given he hasn’t a giant cow Zepplin, fair enough.

The rest of this though is ludicrously overcomplicated: First off it’s not REMOTELY stealthy to build a giant fake factory next to your bin, days before you transport your cash, something so obvious i’m suprised Glomgold dind’t just come to the factory himself and set some explosives. Second while Robot Drivers isn’t a bad idea, Glomgold has many spies with many eyes, it’s a BIG gamble to both have active trucks around, especially at night carrying large sums of cash. I mean what if the police stopped them? Sure Scrooge could get his money back legally, but Flintheart might get to it first or bribe some cops first. Or some dirty cops might take it for themselves. It’s also WEIRDLY costly for someone as spiendthrift as Scrooge, I mean while he owns the land for the factory he had to buy a ton of trucks, pay for gyro’s, i’m assuming Gyro’s at least, material to make the robots, and pay for the guard to keep people out as well as presumibly either well paid workers or more robots inside to get the money into the trucks. It’s just hilariously overcomplicated and while not an intentional joke clearly got a laugh out of me as it just makes no logical sense for scrooge’s character and he’s done similar ideas for far less money in the comics. It’s a carl barks style “hide the money bin’s cash” plot, funnled through bloodshot eyes of someone having done a small mountain of cocaine to get this script done on time and I love it for that. The boys applaud their uncle for his wacky scheme while a mysteroius periscope watches them from a distance.

The Next Morning Beakly is still awful as despite everyone being there, she now refuses to let Webby eat till everyone’s settled. And NOW we can talk about 87 Beakly. I don’t like her. She’s had one or two moments in the episodes I watched, but outside of that she’s a bland character who mostly fusses over the boys and webby, worries things are too dangerous, or is there for a weak joke. She’s just not all that intresting, and while i’ll grant the 87 Ducktales cast isn’t the deepest set of characters and the boys can be annoying depending on the episode.. their at least INTRESTING. The boys are clever, rambunctions and curious, Webby has all of that and an underlying swetness that while cloying at times is mostly just really endearing, Launchpad is a klutz and a crash magnet but means well and keeps trying and genuinely is a good scoutleader and person, and Scrooge despite his rough edges is a hardscrabbled adventuerer. The rest of the main cast here at least has a drive and character to them that makes the stories work when their at their best. Beakly is just kinda.. there. Why I also go into this is because 87 Webby gets a lot of shit.. and she really dosen’t deserve it. Yes she’s clearly a studio executives idea of what a little girl should like and that’s bad. And yes she got kidnapped a bunch.. but so did everyone else. But she makes up for that by being the heart of the team, offering love and empathy to all of them, easily bonding with varous animals and people they meet, and genuinely offering a naive but optimistic worldview that nicely contrasts with scrooge and the boys understandable cyncism. And she CAN handle herself more often than not. Wheras frank and co basically took almost everything about beakly and started over with Webby they simply tweaked her for the times: Made her about the same age if not older than the triplets so their equals, took away the triplet’s outdated and utterly loathsome sexisim, and added badassery and intellegence to her already admirable emotional skills and naive optimism, along with some boundless energy on top.They took a decent character and made her an amazing one. With Beakly.. they took a dodering, easily frightned old lady whose overly proper and stuffy and turned her into a taciturn, snarky, badass former secret agent whose the sanest person in the mansion and when she IS wrong, will not only admit it but usually had some good reason for it. She also goes from being mostly deferent to scrooge to one of his few equals, to the point that the “87 Cent Solution!” lampshades the fact that if they’d called her the episode would’ve been over, as she’s , outside of a few exceptions the one person he listens to. She’s a throughly likeable, throughly complex character and one i’m glad their doing more with this season while I really hope I don’t see the original her more than I have to. Okay with that rant done for this and any future retro ducktales reviews, we can get to the reason your all here and Kev comissioned me to do all 4 of these episodes: You’ve seen it on youtube, you’ve seen it in “Let’s get Dangerous”, you’ve seen it in dreams, ladies, gentleman and others, A. SEA. MONSTER. ATE. MY. ICE. CREAM.

As the family sits for pancakes, Wippleman, Scrooge’s accountant and what I can only assume is this universe’s version of WWE manager Harvey Wippleman, comes in and has some bad news for Scrooge: A Sea Monster of some kind sunk one of his ships.. but the good news it was only Ice Cream. Knowing what it really was Scrooge goes absolute APE shit and procedes to hop around the table going absolutely insane, destroying everyone’s breakfast, with poor webby bemoaning she’ll never get to eat, Beakly remarking “it must’ve been some ice cream’ which isnt’ a bad line, Huey explaning what’s up with the weirdly delivered “It was half his fort-une!” and the boys finally restraining Scrooge with an impromptu tablecloth straightjacket, which calms him down and he hops off to get his money back. Wether you’ve seen the scene for yourself and ESPECIALLY if somehow you haven’t, it’s right here if you want to take another look.

youtube

This scene is not only the most remembered part of the special, and easily the most beloved, it’s one of the best scenes in all of Ducktales 87 and easily one of the funniest across duck canon. Everything just clicks: The concept, the animation showing off just how manic scrooge is, how he never does the same move twice, how rather than looping it Alan Young very clearly said the word a bunch of times each time with a different more manic and uniquely hilarious delivery, Beakly’s deadpan reaction, and the boys vain attempts to restrain him before finally succeeding. Everything about this works and in an otherwise just really off center episode, this sparkling gem of a scene stands out. I waited till now to talk about Alan Young’s scrooge and honestly the man defined the roll for a reason: he can do a dramatic or emotional delivery just as effortlessly as a comic bit like this, and plays the character with the sternness and stubbornness expected. He got the character perfectly and it’s unsurprising Frank and Matt wanted him to reprise the roll and he only didn’t because he sadly passed on, though I will say David Tenant is a perfect replacement. Though even HE couldn’t do the Sea Monster Ate My Ice Cream bit as well as Alan, as his felt a bit more stilted and was clearly looped, but really I don’t think anyone could top him at this. It’s his shining moment as the character and he earned it square.

So getting back to the ten car pileup that is the rest of this episode, the boys and Scrooge head under the sea, doot doot doot, to find his ship. But while under water they instead find the navy who’ve quarantined the ship.. yet aren’t wearing face masks inside their little suits. How odd. Guess the giant glass dome and giant ocean of water between them and the ship helps but still, you can’t be too careful. Point is both sides are being kind of douchey: The Naval Guards, rather than direct Scrooge to their superior to PROVE it’s his vessel and ask questions to him directly since their aircraft carrier soon turns out not to be far from here just tell him he can’t pass and Scrooge is as bill gerent as you’d expect. I’m not saying people aren’t this dumb in real life, just google any video of a karen of any gender throwing a giant tantrum in a store over masks, i’m just saying i’td be nice to move the plot along without unnecessary cul de sacs. The boys however naturally have a way around this and sneak in with scrooge on the underside of a sea turtle. It’s a genuinely clever tactic. They find the ship with a large bite out of it.. and the Navy then swoop in to take them in.

On the ship Scrooge continues to not help his case and pulls a classic old white guy and demands to see their superior. Or white person in particular really. Point is he throws a strop on their way to what could easily be a trip to the brig with his behavior and possible criminal charges, while the boys muse that this is Donald’s ship. For the uninitiated, the in-series reason Donald left the boys for this series was he was called back to the Navy, and thus left the boys with Scrooge. Out of series it was an executive mandate: As Tad Stones, future creator of Darkwing Duck and story editor for Ducktales 87, explained, and I found out about this via looper, Disney was nervous about having one of their biggest characters overexposed by having him as part of 65 episode tv show. This was combined with the fact they were worried Donald’s voice would make stories confusing. I also believe, if with no proof there was at third reason: Tony Anselmo had just started as Donald Duck, taking over from the late great Clarence Nash at Nash’s request after Nash died in 85, and they likely feared putting Tony through such a ringer this soon might sour audiences on him before audiences had gotten used to the new voice actor. So with all this Donald was kept to the occasional guest roll, though I will say while there have been complaints about Donald’s voice on this show I have no issue with it. It’s not as good as the reboot.. but the reboot also comes after Tony’s been playing the roll for over 30 years and is just as iconic as his predecessor in the roll at this point versus two years after his mentor died and he picked up his sword.. or squawky duck voice in this case.

Scrooge is escorted to Admiral Grimitz, the head of this aircraft carrier whose showed up in other Donald episodes, specifically his segment of the Treasure of the Golden Suns series opener. He’s the gruff but mostly fair head of the ship and is voiced by, of all the va’s possible, Peter “Optimus Prime” Cullen, using a voice that is DIFFRENT but not by much. It’s hard not to be distracted by it. The Admiral waves scrooge off from his entirely justified fear the Army stole his money, but refuses to give any details since i’ts classified. Scrooge angrily.. decides to do the next shipment anyway and tells them to stay out of it instead of calling the president like he threatened to get some answers. Or threaten to pull funding for his military contracts. I know Scrooge never would, but they don’t know that. It’s just.. odd to see scrooge give up and it would’ve made more sense if the Admiral threatened legal action first or something that would get him to back off. The Admiral then brings in Donald, and gives him the truth: Their own scientist, Dr. Bluebottle, stole an experimental sub shaped like a whale and stole the money for reasons they don’t know. So since he can go undercover easily, he sends Donald to go with scrooge and slaps a transmitter on him so they can track him. Donald also does some slapstick. That’s my boy. And yes it was a very nice surprise to see him again since i’d forgot he was in this episode. Especially since aside from “The Trickining!” he hasn’t been in any episodes since Ducktales came back. Justifably though as none of those NEEDED him and the show’s massively improved from it’s “donald might as not well exist” days of season 1, I just miss him is all and it’s nice to see some form of him again. And this is where the episode kinda lost me, as this scheme, while not really out of the bounds of the reality, just.. feels like it overcomplicates the plot for the sake of padding. I mean I buy the Government going iwth a far more complex plan to cover their own asses.. but it would’ve made more sense from a plot standpoint to have it go this way: The Admiral is honest with Scrooge, tells him about bluebottle.. and threatens him into helping them by pointing out he broke into a federal quarantine and defined naval orders and could be brought up on charges, and if he tired telling anyone about Bluebottle could likewise be tried for leaking federal secrets. That way instead of using an unknowing scrooge as bait he goes into the situation KNOWING he’s probably going to get captured and while grumbly about it uses it to his advantage. Donald could still plausibly be sent along as naval lisaon/as a seemingly nice act/to have the bug to track the sub. Instead it just feels like they added an extra uncessary step to things to pad the episode more. I mean if you needed to do that just add more of the sea monster or give launchpad a cameo. He’s been missing for days at this point.

So Scrooge and family, which naturally includes Webby and Beakly even if I don’t like classic bleakly she’s still family, head out with the second half of his fortune which makes next to no sense when he has days left in the concept and you know, half is missing, but whatever. Naturally the obvious happens and we meet the famous Sea Monster.. which actually looks neat.. it’s drawn like your standard cartoony killer whale but has bits of indents much like a sub would to show it’s not entirely a beast. It’s a nice bit of design work. The whale eats the cash and Donald and Scrooge but the navy pick up the boys, webby and beakly. Donald let’s things slip on the sub, while back at the carrier the good Admiral explains the rest and my other issues with the plot aside this scene is a good bit of exploition as it explains some obvious questions away cleverly, something this plot could’ve used more of frankly but it’s refreshing to get at least a little: The reason they don’t just attack the sub en masse, besides it being you know incredibly valuable is that it’s made to be torpedo resistant, it’s sonar resitant so they can’t track it easily, and it’s faster than any ship. After all it was made to be a super weapon, so naturally the carriers standard barrage of navy vehicles can’t match it. However again to the episodes credit the tracker is actually vitally important, as it allows them to see the ship and where it is, so they can attack.. though right now their holding off on it since a crewman and a civilian are on board but if it comes down to it they’ll have no choice. I also gotta admit..t his concept is pretty cool. Kind of ridiculous? Sure but a super sub shaped like a whale that can still bite like one and outrun and outlast any other sea vehicle? It’s undoubtly awesome and a point in this episodes favor. But now we get to most gloriously insane and convoluted part of the episode.. yes NOW we do. Donald and Scrooge naturally sneak around the ship, and find Dr. Bluebottle at his controls, talking to Flintheart on a video monitor. Turns out, to no one’s surprised, Flintheart subcontracted out his plans to Bluebottle and in exchange for keeping the money under the ocean till the contest, Glomgold is going to make sure he gets the Nobel Prize, and covers on all the magazines. Okay at first I genuinely thought this plan made no sense.. until I realized it does, but ONLY for Glomgold. Bluebottle comes off as the smartest moron that’s ever lived for agreeing to any of this. But I have to give Glommy this the plan works out great for him: He convinces an already Rogue scientist to steal scrooge’s money, which prevents Scrooge from finding out what’s going on as he, correctly, guessed the government would cover this up because of course they did. He then correctly figured either the government would work with scrooge to trap bluebottle or they’d just use scrooge as bait anyway without a formal agreement, thus netting him scrooge’s entire fortune. He knows bluebottle won’t take it up because he gave bluebottle a bribe specifically for him and the only thing he wants, and even if he does take the money, Glomgold has more and Bluebottle could still remotely blow up the sub or something. And if he can’t the Navy would have to hold the sub, and money included , as evidence for the trial. And even if Bluebottle DOES rat him out, Glomgold could easily bury the evidence. The only way glomgold gets caught is if Bluebottle recorded their video chats or if scrooge saw them talking.. which he did, but given the two are direct competitors his testimony is dubious at best as is donald’s. So basically Flintheart almost certainly wins no matter what, and Bluebottle takes the fall no matter what. It does make Bluebottle comeff as a massive moron for not thinking of this, but props to glomgold. Also yeah.. it’s clear to me at this point that if he hasn’t said it somewhere Frank clearly did the same thing he did with Gyro here with Flintheart: Take one accidental trait from the original (Glomgold’s penchant for overly complicated schemes and Gyro’s tendency to make robots that go rogue.) and make it a part of their personality instead of just a coincidence and turn it up to 11 for hilarity.. which worked in both cases. I genuinely thought this Flintheart was saner but no he’s just less interesting. So Bluebottle gets an intruder alert.. and turns around to find Scrooge and Donald. Who rather than just whap the guy on the head while his back is turned, just stood there to confront him directly.

Look this review is running long and is behind, I don’t have more time to marvel over how plot conveniently stupid they are being right now. A fight ensues with blue bottles inventions till Donald threatens to pull a big lever. I’ts thankfully not the self destruct lever like Donald thinks or Bluebottle’s equivlent of the blow up the engine button because he’s clearly just that smart, but a lever to dump all the gold.. which isn’t a terrible idea for once as if the ship gets stalled it can float up, as we’ll naturally see as there was no way they weren’t going to pull this chekov’s lever at some point. Scrooge stops him, Bluebottle uses gadgets to tie both up and finds out about the bug , as that’s why the miltary have been able to attack him which happened but I didn’t get to becuse of all the stupid. Bluebottle snuffs it out and then fully assaults the aircraft carrier, and things look grim. But Scrooge and Donald aren’t put down that easily and escape and scrooge pulls a donald and just starts breaking shit and breaks the sub. Now with the sub plumiting, and Bluebottle bragging that only he can fix it as the sub will just keep sinking into the ocean’s depths.. and that only it’s design has kept compression from crushing them to death. But Scrooge has another solution and a suprisingly, and badassingly self sacrifical one: He dumps the money into the marinara trench, nice pun, and thus the whale floats up, Bluebottle is arrested, and Glomgold... still wins for now as Scrooge still has to get his fortune out, but Scrooge figures Gyro can help with that. We get an everybody laughs ending and we’re out.

Final Thoughts: This one is a mess. While it has a great moment here or there, Donald and Tony as him are fantastic as they are now, and of course A Sea Monster Ate My Ice Cream! is an utterly classic scene and an utter joy to watch. The attached episode is just a mess structurally, if still a fun watch. Yes despite my bitching about it the sheer slapped together nature of it means it’s fun to pick apart and make fun of, so it’s not unwatchable. I’ve seen worse episodes of this very show, and worse episodes of tv. But as an old friend would say.

Not a terrible sit, but it easily could’ve been better. I’m also getting tired of scrooge being enitrely usless and just throwing up his hands at times. Stop that he’s better than that. With this one THANKFULLY AND FINALLY out of the way, next up is Aqua Ducks.......

Oh god. Well if you want to see the next one follow me. If there’s an episode of any animated show you’d like to see me cover classic ducktales, modern ducktales, disney in general, etc, etc, just send me a PM and you can comission a review. 5 bucks for one episode, 15 for a movie and 5 bucks off one episode when you order three or more like say a multiparter like this. Until then say safe, check your house for Busey’s and hopefully we’ll meet again.

#ducktales #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #bentina beakley #webbigail vanderquack #huey dewey and louie #flintheart glomgold #reviews #review

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zhydoesart · 4 years

Text

Letters

Warnings: none

Fandom/Ship: Phan

AO3

Summary: Somehow, Phil always knows when Dan's feeling down, and he always knows what to say to make Dan feel better.

Taglist: I don’t currently have one for this fandom, this is my first Phanfic ^^ I hope you enjoy

Somehow, he always knew.

Whenever Dan was having a bad day—maybe he’d dropped his ice cream, or maybe he was having his fifth existential crisis this month—Phil sent a text. It was never anything elaborate or too long-winded, it was something simple like, “I miss you <3,” or, “I heard a song that made me think of you and I smiled.” Whatever it ended up being, it always managed to turn Dan’s day around.

But Phil had taken a trip to the next city over, without Dan. It had only been two days so far, but Dan was already starting to feel the effects.

Dan had been lying on his bed, face buried in his pillow, for about 20 minutes now. Every three or so minutes, he’d check his phone, perking up hopefully, only to see that he hadn’t gotten a text from Phil, at which point he’d deflate again.

Phil had always been there when Dan needed him, he thought, unable to fight off a hint of bitterness. Part of him still resented Phil for leaving him and Dan hated that part of himself. It wasn’t Phil’s job to make Dan feel better; what was he, a child? Dan had never properly learned how to cheer himself up. Whatever he tried never worked.

Dan groaned, the sound muffled by his pillow, and rolled over onto his back with a sigh. His eyes sightlessly traced the little bumps on the ceiling, mind somewhere else. He pondered calling Phil for a moment, but no. That would be far too disruptive; what if Phil was doing something important that required concentration and Dan distracted him?

Instead, he dragged himself out of bed, trudging into the bathroom. He blinked blearily at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hobbit hair, which was still messy from last night’s sleep, trying to force his hair into a little more order.

The bags under his eyes were dark today, and Dan thought absentmindedly that if Phil had been there, he probably would’ve slept better last night. As it was, last night he’d tossed and turned for hours.

On the bright side, Phil couldn’t eat cereal that wasn’t for him to eat, Dan thought dully as he poured himself a bowl. Maybe he should be enjoying having the place to himself, but somehow he isn’t having fun as he eats his slightly mushy cereal for brunch.

Dan left the bowl in the sink, plopping himself lazily down on the sofa. Fumbling for the remote, he turned on the TV, resigning himself to watching whatever was on. After a few minutes, his eyes glazed over as he stopped listening.

An engine stopped outside. Pausing the TV, Dan peeked out the blinds as the mailman—in this case, a woman, so maybe mailperson?—dropped an envelope into the mailbox. He waited the normal minute-and-a-half duration for the truck to drive away before bolting to the mailbox.

Dan hadn’t been corresponding with anyone via letters recently, so it was probably just the standard spam from the corporate entities that seemed to target him and Phil, but he never liked staying outside for very long. It wasn’t a very sunny day—in fact, it was gray today, clouds obscuring the sun—but the sentiment still stood, so as soon as he’d unlocked the mailbox and grabbed the envelope, he hurried back inside.

Dan slammed the wooden front door shut, standing with his back to said door as he faced his living room. Panting slightly, he stared down at the envelope in his hand as though he thought it would come to life and start trying to bite him. He shook his head—that was as unlikely to happen as it was for Phil’s potted plants to uproot themselves and do a little dance—forcing his other hand to move the distance necessary to rip open the envelope.

The way Dan unfolded the piece of paper inside the envelope was a sharp contrast with the way he’d opened the letter. Dan always opened envelopes with force, not bothering with any sort of neatness; unlike Phil, who was one of those people who needed to painstakingly peel open the flap. His hands seemed to be shaking as he read the first words printed on the page in front of him in a handwriting that was very, very familiar to him.

My darling Dan, the letter began in a slightly loopy, messy font that Dan instantly recognized as Phil’s. How are you? I’m sure you must be worrying about me. While the thought is very flattering, we are not conjoined, despite the baking video we made for Halloween in 2017, and Dan Howell should get himself a life that doesn’t involve spending ALL of his time with me. (I know, I know, hypocritical, right?)

Dan scoffed, migrating over to the sofa to read the rest of the letter.

(To be honest, he was relieved to hear from Phil. It wasn’t as though it had been very long since Phil had left, and Phil wasn’t bad at remembering to contact Dan, per se, but a part of Dan always carried the irrational fear that something bad had, or would, happen to Phil.)

Now you’re wondering why I sent you a letter, which is perfectly reasonable, as I don’t send many these days. I don’t really have a reason to. But, truth be told, I’ve always wanted to send one like this. I romanticize letters in my head, and, well, who better to be romantic with than you?

So I wrote this letter, assuming that you’d start pacing and/or passive-aggressively trying to suffocate yourself with a pillow if I left for longer than one day. While we’ve always been satisfied with texting, I feel like letters hold a bigger part of a person than a text. They’re more personal. Like, I held this letter and I wrote on it in my own handwriting, and I like you enough to write more than a paragraph. I wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. And letters are sort of a place for you to ramble about things you think the other person would want to hear about.

Letters are also a physical thing. There’s something cool about the way you can hold them in your hand. Sure, you could always send an email, and the other person could print it out, but then you wouldn’t have their handwriting, would you?

Handwriting tells a lot about a person. If it’s neat, then they’re methodical and think things through. If it’s big, then they have a lot of self-confidence, or at least want to make it look like they do.

Dan supposed that was true. Phil’s handwriting tended to be large, which represented the pure amount of energy he always had (at least around Dan).

Your handwriting is always small and messy, the opposite of the two examples I gave. I think you rush because you’re a procrastinator, and in your avoidance of doing things, it gives you less time to actually do the things you want to do because you waited so long.

Sometimes Dan wasn’t sure how beneficial it was for him and Phil to know literally everything about one another, but he had to admit that what Phil had said in the letter was true.

Dan scanned the letter. It seemed like the rest of the letter was just Phil rambling about a dog he’d seen from the window of the room where he was staying, and Dan smiled, imagining Phil with his face pressed to the window to stare out at the dog.

At the bottom, it was signed, Missing you too, Phil, but contrary to the signature, in smaller text it then read, P.S. Dan, I want a dog :/ I would name it Meatball, and then, P.P.S. Is having a great name for a dog enough justification to get a dog?

Dan sighed, though not unhappily, stretching as he stood. As usual, Phil had improved his day significantly, although that didn't stop Dan from missing him, just a little bit.

Dan had thought the letter would be a one-time occurrence, but the next day, another envelope was in his mailbox. In this letter, Phil attempted some poetry (it went very badly, but Dan still appreciated it) and scribbled in the margin the lyrics to a song he'd had stuck in his head while writing (Toxic by Britney Spears, of course).

Every day, Phil sent Dan a letter in the mail, and after a week, Dan now had a small pile accumulating on the table next to their bed. Each one contained words of reassurance and confidence that Dan could seize the day, and each time Dan opened an envelope, his heart swelled. He really didn't deserve someone like Phil, who, while not having his life together much more than Dan, seemed happier in his decisions and in himself than Dan felt.

He couldn't remember how long Phil had said the little trip was going to be, and so couldn't estimate the number of letters he'd be receiving, but on the eighth day, no letter came. Despite how much Phil had reminded him not to jump to the worst possible conclusion, Dan assumed Phil had stopped sending letters and that he'd gotten too busy for Dan anymore.

Dan had been lying in bed for an hour when he heard someone fumbling with the doorknob on the front door. Heart pounding, he glanced at the time (9:02). He crept to the end of the hallway, watching the door with a mix of trepidation and adrenaline.

Dan could hear the jingle of keys as the person on the other side of the door failed to unlock it several times. He realized that his palms were sweaty as he peered around the corner at the door. Anyone who failed to open the door that many times was either breaking in, or…

A muffled yet triumphant “Aha!” came from the other side of the door, becoming clearer as the door actually opened. Dan blinked what must’ve been ten times, so it couldn’t have been a hallucination conjured by his sleep-deprived brain. It was really Phil.

Phil glanced up, catching sight of Dan watching and breaking into a grin. Dan barreled into Phil’s arms, very nearly knocking Phil over as he caught Dan in an embrace.

Dan buried his face in Phil’s hair, inhaling the familiar scent, that pleasant smell of Phil’s shampoo currently mixed with the smell of wherever he’d been staying. “I missed you,” he said softly.

“You got my letters, right?” asked Phil, arms wrapped almost as tightly around Dan as Dan’s were wrapped around him.

“Yeah.” Dan pulled back after a moment to gaze into Phil’s “blue-green-yellow” eyes, one hand on Phil’s cheek. Phil’s eyes were filled with warmth, and his smile, that beautiful smile, was almost too much for Dan to handle in his tired state, but he narrowly prevented himself from crying.

“Why don’t we get out of the doorway?” Phil suggested, gently removing Dan’s hand from his face.

“Oh, yeah.” Dan stepped back to allow Phil room to enter with the luggage, closing the door behind him like a gentleman.

“How are you?” Phil asked. “Your eye bags look dark.” He raised an eyebrow at Dan, who felt sheepish and rushed to explain himself.

“I know you said to get to bed early because you know that I don’t sleep much unless I’m forced to, and I did!” justified Dan. “But… I couldn’t sleep much without you. It gets cold at night.” He pouted slightly, arms crossed, avoiding Phil’s eyes.

Phil looked at Dan, the look in his eyes soft. “You get off the hook this time,” he sighed, but he still had a small smile. “Come here.” He swept Dan into his arms again. While Phil had been the one away from home, and Dan had never left, Dan hadn’t felt as at home without Phil as he did now, enveloped in Phil’s embrace.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dan and phil #daniel howell #phil lester

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rose-gold-romantic · 5 years

Text

Whatever It Takes: Chapter Eight

A Loki x Reader based in the Tesseract fic universe! Avengers: Infinity War follow-up fic. Next in the Tesseract fic series. Links to Tesseract, Lokasenna, What Heroes Do, and Fidelity. Also to my AU Feel You.

I WOULD LOVE FEEDBACK! Want to be tagged in updates? Let me know!

@malignentmac @fandomsfanman @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @markusstrayya @sincereleygmg @pandaqua @person-born-winchester

Just a forewarning, this one has a major POV shift from the past entries, since Reader was Dusted at the end of Fidelity! Keeping with my recent trend in fic titles, it’s named after a track on the official soundtrack. I also constantly watch this Video, and recommend it to hype you up!

“If you guys wanted to grab lunch, Bruce and Scott were making tacos in the kitchen.” Natasha said, when we met her inside. “I just put out the call to everyone to come in. Okoye has to stay in Wakanda to keep things running, and I don’t know if Danvers is going to even get our message, but everyone else is on their way right now.”

“Do we have any other way of getting Danvers here faster?” Tony asked.

“We don’t know specifically where she is, so no.” Natasha sighed.

The ground rumbled, and a glance out the panel windows confirmed that Rocket and Nebula had arrived. The Benatar landed next to the building, Scott sitting on a bench and staring in awe at the spaceship.

Rocket and Scott shared a brief exchange, and Rocket came inside to find Bruce and myself. As we exited to get into the Benatar, Rhodes arrived, startling Scott into dropping his taco all over the sidewalk.

“What’s up, regular-sized man?” Rhodey joked, turning to walk into the building.

Bruce passed Scott a few tacos from his own lunch as we boarded the ship, leaving Scott looking both puzzled and thankful.

“Where are we headed?” Bruce asked.

“We’re going to get Thor.” Rocket answered. “I called Val to tell him to come, but she was saying it’s going to be more difficult than that. That’s why you two are coming with.”

This news unsettled me. I had instructed both Thor and Val to contact me if anything went awry, and I had heard nothing from either of them. I had presumed that Thor would leap at the chance to undo what had been done, especially considering what had happened in Wakanda. Had I been wrong about his willingness? Or was something else wrong?

Thoughts continued to spin in my head as we travelled to New Asgard. The Benatar landed outside its outskirts, and we rode in the back of a truck into the city limits.

As we all exited the vehicle, Rocket looked around.

“Kind of a step down from a golden palace and whatnot.” Rocket mumbled.

“Have a little compassion, pal.” Bruce interjected before I could respond. “First, they’ve lost Asgard, then half their people. They’re probably just happy to have a home to live in.”

“You shouldn’t have come!” Val called out to us, looking directly at me.

“Aahhh Valkyrie!” Bruce answered, smiling. “Great to see you, Angry Girl!”

Val raised an eyebrow, looking Bruce up and down. “I think I liked you better either of the other ways.”

“This is Rocket.” Bruce said, trying to shift the subject.

“You you doin’?” Rocket nodded.

“He won’t see you.” Val continued. “I told you that.”

“What happened?” I asked, “Why won’t he see us?”

“He’s holed up in his place, never comes out.” She answered. “Nothing threatening was happening, and I know you had important stuff to do. I was managing on my own alright, didn’t want to needlessly bother you.”

“That bad, huh?” Bruce asked.

“We only see him once a month, when he comes for…” She glanced over to a large pile of beer kegs on the side of the pier, “...supplies.”

“It’s that bad.” Rocket sighed.

“Yea.” Rocket agreed.

“Let’s get my brother out of here.” I said, “We have people to save.”

We walked over to my brother’s home, Rocket pushing open the front door. We all grimaced at the smell that wafted from the house’s interior.

“What the…” Bruce said, confused.

“Whoo!” Rocket said, waving his hand in front of his face. “Something died in here. Hello?”

“Thor?” I called out, my concern rising.

“Are you here about the cable?” Thor called out from a separate room.

Thor slowly walked into view, and my worst hopes for him fell through the floorboards as I saw him. He was walking around shirtless, and had gained an incredible amount of weight since I had been in last. He had obviously leaned heavily into drinking to cope, and the scent of alcohol clung to him.

“The cinemax ran out two weeks ago, and the sports were all kind of fuzzy.” Thor mumbled, turning to face us, finally noticing who we were. “Boys, brother! Oh my God! How have you been?” Thor leaned to try to hug Rocket, “Come here you little rascal!”

“No, I’m good. I’m good.” Rocket said, pushing away. “That’s not necessary.”

“Hulk, you know my friends, Miek, Korg, right?” Thor gestured to the duo sitting on the sofa, playing video games whilst they ate chips.

“Hey, long time no see!” Bruce waved to them.

“Hey guys.” Korg waved back. “Beer’s on the bucket. Feel free to log onto the Wi-Fi. No password, obviously.” After a pause, he looked to Thor. “Thor, he’s back, the kid on the TV. He called me a dickhead again.”

“Noobmaster?” Thor slurred.

“Yea, Noobmaster69.” Korg confirmed, handing Thor the headphones.

As Thor went off on the other player, I sighed. While Thor had always been a happy drunk, I knew that this was nothing more than him trying to escape from everything that had happened. Not that I had been much different. I chose to stay busy to distract myself, and he had chosen to drown his sorrows with drink. I wished that I had realized sooner, perhaps I could have prevented his decline. I had initially left because he had said that he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to even interact with me much. Perhaps more insistence from me would have helped him through it...

Thor handed the headphones back to Korg before turning back to us. “So, do you guys want a drink? What are you drinking? We have beer, tequila, all sorts of things.”

Thor picked up a beer, removing the cap with Stormbreaker’s edge. I came up to him, placing my hands on his shoulders firmly.

“Buddy, you alright?” Bruce asked, placing his hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“I’m fine!” Thor insisted between gulps, “Why, don’t I look alright?”

“You look like melted ice cream.” Rocket said, rolling his eyes.

Thor laughed, taking another drink. “So, what’s up?”

“We need your help.” Bruce said, trying to calmly get through my brother’s drunken stupor. “There might be a chance that we could fix everything.”

“What, like the cable?” Thor asked with a belch. “Cause that’s been driving me bananas for weeks.”

“Like Thanos.” Bruce said softly.

Thor’s face darkened instantly, the smile gone from his face. Thor placed a shaky hand on Bruce’s shoulder and pointed at him, beer bottle still in his hand.

“Don’t you say that name.” Thor slurred.

Korg stood, removing his headphones. “Um, yea. We don’t actually say that name in here.”

“Please, take your hand off me.” Bruce said, removing Thor’s hand gently. “Now, I know that… guy… might scare you.”

“Why would I be? Why would, why would I be scared of that guy? I'm the one who killed that guy, remember? Anyone else here killed that guy?” Thor said, his emotions fighting to be acknowledged. “Nope. Didn't think so. Korg, why don't you, tell everybody who chopped Thanos' big head off.”

“Umm, Stormbreaker?” Korg answered, unsure.

“Now, who was swinging Stormbreaker?” Thor continued.

“I get it. You're in a rough spot, okay? I've been there myself.” Bruce said, gently trying to break through the wall Thor had built up. “You wanna know who helped me out of it?”

“I don't know.” Thor mused, smiling. “Is it… Natasha?”

“It was you.” Bruce answered. “You helped me”

Thor walked over to a window, pointing out through the dirty glass. “Why don't you ask the, Asgardians down there, how much my help was worth.” He sighed, sitting onto a chair. “The ones that are left, anyway.”

“I think we can bring them back.” Bruce said.

“Stop. Just, stop…” Thor said, reaching for a snack. “I know you think I’m down here wallowing in my own self-pity, waiting to be rescued and saved. But I’m fine okay? We’re fine, aren’t we?”

“All good here, mate!” Korg replied, waving.

“So, whatever it is that you’re offering, we’re not into it, don’t care couldn’t care less.” Thor said, finishing off his bottle. “Goodbye.”

Unable to bear it any longer, I broke my silence.

“But you’re not fine! Look at yourself, brother.” I said, my voice raised. “I know as well as anyone what it’s like to lose everyone, to feel like you’ve failed everyone you’ve ever cared about.” I bit my tongue, lowering my voice as my own emotions began to influence my words.

“To know that you’ve failed them, that you’re the reason they’re gone.” I almost whispered, my throat tight.

“There is nothing I would want more than to be able to run away from my duties. I tried to. To run away from the fact that nearly my entire family was stolen from me, and that I’m the one to blame for all of it!” I shouted, hot tears streaming down my face as Thor continued to look down at the ground and his empty hands. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix everything, no matter how hard I may have tried. I’m sorry that I was too wrapped up in my own selfish interests to help you when you needed it most. But I’m trying to fix that now, and I need you to let me! I can’t lose the only family I have left! I can’t lose you the way that I lost mother, the way that I lost (Y/N). The guilt of their deaths eats away at me every single day, and while I have no one to blame but myself for that, I refuse to let you throw yourself away like this. I need you, Thor, and I know that you need me too.”

I stepped back, trying to compose myself. “I want to be better, I want to do what’s right. All I’m asking is that you come along with me. I need you.”

“We all need you, pal.” Bruce added softly.

Thor sighed heavily, grabbing a few beers and standing up.

“What’s our plan?”

#loki #loki x reader #endgame #fanfiction #marvel #tesseract #rose gold romantic #whatever it takes

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welovekpopscenarios · 6 years

Text

Unwind (OT5 x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Just a purely platonic thing with all of Day6. Where you're having a hard time in college and they come up with something to help you ease off and take a breather.

Fandom: Day6

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: None!

Warnings: None, except a bitta sadness and stress :(((

Word Count: 1770

A/N: To the person who requested this – I cannot apologise any more for how late this is. I’m so sorry I left it this long, feel free to yell at me if you want. But think of this as a New Year’s Eve present from me, ilysm and if you were having a hard time with college, I hope things got better and that this makes you smile. Again, I’m so sorry my love. Happy reading, and have a happy and safe 2018.

“Do you think this will really work? Do you not think they’ll just get more annoyed?”

Brian was all for helping you ‘de-stress’, as the boys had put it, wanting nothing more than to see you finally put down those damned books you’ve buried your head in and for you to have a proper conversation with them that didn’t end with snapping or sighing loud enough for the next table over to even hear. But he didn’t think kidnapping you to go to the beach was really going to solve anything.

Not that the rest would listen to him.

“Of course man, it’s fine. They’ll love it. They need it,” Jae replied, occupied with moving bags filled with beach essentials and the odd bits and pieces deemed worthy enough to come on the trip and- was that a bucket and spade?

“Yeah, it’ll help them a lot. You’ve seen how they are – since college started, there hasn’t been a weekend where they haven’t studied. They honestly do it too much, and I didn’t think there was ever a limit to studying,” Wonpil agreed, hands hurriedly making sandwiches and other snacks for the beach day. Piles upon piles of food were made in surprisingly record time, and soon a single bag was full to the brim with snacks, drinks, and all of your favourite foods. Dowoon squeaked a ‘yeah!’ of agreement from his place on the floor blowing up a beach ball.

“See? The five of us are going to have a great time!” Jae grinned.

Brian rose a brow in confusion. “Wait, five? Don’t you mean six?”

“Oh, yeah, Wonpil isn’t invited. He’s being left behind.”

“Excuse me?! After I made all this food?” Wonpil gasped, indignation lacing his graceful features.

“Yeah, have fun at hom-“

“No one is getting left behind,” Sungjin announced, walking into the room decked out in a classic Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts that had everyone cringing and hiding their faces in the palms of their hands. “We’re doing this for Y/N, we’re gonna be good friends and try to make them feel better. Even if it’s only for one day. So come on, finish packing the truck and we’ll go grab Y/N.” He slipped on his shades and grinned.

“You mean kidnap,” Brian corrected, but simply shook his head and resigned himself to carrying bags to the truck. Maybe you’ll find the humour in this, and laugh about being brought against your will to the beach and away from your studies.

Well, he hopes.

When the boys arrived at your doorstep decked out in what looked to be beach wear and wearing smiles too innocent to be genuine, you honestly should have known better and seen through the fog of fatigue that they were up to something. But their offer of driving you to the library instead of you having to walk sounded too good to pass up, so after a coffee in your kitchen with Wonpil and Sungjin looking slightly nervous and waiting for Jae who took way too long to be normal in the bathroom, you all headed out towards the library in a very cramped mini van.

Or so you thought.

“Uhm, guys?” you asked aloud over the blaring of Teenage Dirtbag from the radio and Dowoon’s wailing rendition of the song. “Where are we going? This isn’t the library,” you informed dumbly. Obviously it wasn’t the library, you knew that, unless the library suddenly changed its décor to feature an a deep blue ocean and miles of sand, complete with ice cream stands every so often and brightly coloured towels lining the beach.

“Oh yeah, about that,” Jae said from his position in the seat behind you with Dowoon who was grinning uneasily when you caught his eye. “We’re going to the beach instead!”

“Excuse me? I have work to do, tests to worry about, I can’t waste time, are you serious guys?” you bellowed, flickering your angered gaze from each person to the next: poor Wonpil who shifted uncomfortably beside you, Dowoon who looked so guilty, Jae who simply smirked and looked indifferent at your outrage, Brian who avoided your eyes as soon as they met, and Sungjin who simply turned down the volume of the radio and drove in silence.

“Yes, we’re completely serious, Y/N. Do you even know when the last time you went out was? Or how often you talk to us anymore?” Jae asked, brow raised in a way that dared you to argue with him on this matter. But you couldn’t, he was right: you haven’t been anywhere in a long time, and conversation with the boys was quick and dull. But you had college to worry about, they should understand that.

“I have so much to worry about-“

“But you worry too much,” Wonpil piped up. “You only ever look at your books, only study, and you only ever spend time in the library, work, or at home. You keep everything bottled up instead of letting us help you. You need a break, from everything. Please?”

“One day isn’t going to make you fail an entire course, Y/N,” Brian reasoned, daring to meet your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. “We want to help you, so just let us. You need this.”

You seemingly lost your voice at the sheer sincerity in each of their gazes and voices.

“…but-“

“Just relax today, Y/N. Forget about college, about work, about everything. Just have fun today,” Sungjin smiled at you through the mirror before returning his attention to the road, eyes roaming the streets for a place to park.

“But I don’t even have anything with me,” you mumbled, a last attempt at getting them to turn the car around despite your heart wanting to stay here, with the sun shining and your toes in the soft grains of sand.

“Don’t worry, we packed everything for you,” Dowoon explained, giving a soft little pat to the crown of your head.

“Yup, took me a while to find everything, but I got there in the end,” Jae added, and then it clicked for you.

“Wait, is that why you took so long in the bathroom this morning?”

Jae smiled widely. “Guilty as charged, dude,” he sang.

You sighed quietly, shoulders rising and falling with the action. “Sneaky.”

“What can I say? Years of watching James Bond and playing Tom Clancy games prepared me for this moment. Now, enough of the pouty face, we’re at the beach. You are going to hang out with us and have fun even if it kills me.”

“That sounds threatening,” you muttered, opening the car door once Sungjin had fully parked in what he deemed the perfect spot: close to the seaside shops and at the nicest part of the beach.

“Yeah, well, you’re my best friend and I love you to death, so I gotta show some tough love,” he replied, popping open the booth and throwing bags of beach essentials at Dowoon who yelped in surprise.

“C’mon everyone, let’s find a spot to put our stuff,” Brian yelled, taking off towards the sand with speed, Wonpil, Jae and Dowoon hot on his heels as Sungjin moved to stand by your side. He looked at you with a grin as he adorned a cap on his head.

“It's summer, Y,N! I got my hat on backwards and it's time to party! Let’s go!”

Smooth, ocean waves greeted the shore in soft movements, kissing the sand delicately as the day came to a close, the sun saying goodbye to the world for now and hiding behind the horizon. The beach was covered in a dull, orange glow as you and your friends lay prone on the sand, exhausted after a day of unexpected non-stop action. Your head rested on Wonpil’s thigh, whose rested on Dowoon’s, who rested on heaps of half dry towels, while beside you three Jae, Brian and Sungjin sat or lay watching the few stragglers wandering on the beach.

You sighed in content, that sigh releasing the last of your stress as you relaxed in content, simply taking in the atmosphere and being here with your best friends; your family. You gave a slight smile as you played with the ends of your shorts absentmindedly, Wonpil’s fingers gently untangling knots from your sea-soaked hair.

“So,” Jae broke the blissful lull, his voice revealing smug undertones that had you rolling your eyes slightly. “Enjoy your day, Y/N?”

You pretended to think hard about the question; humming in thought and face screwed up in contemplation, much to Jae’s annoyance, who stared at you with a flat look. You laughed amiably, winking at Jae who shook his head and pushed Brian’s shoulder when he laughed with you.

“I did. I really did. And I can’t thank you all enough for this, I…” you sighed, eyes returning to the horizon. “I’m sorry I was snappy and hurtful to all of you, you don’t deserve it at all. You were just trying to help me, and I was so awful to you, I was…” you could feel the familiar sting in your eyes as your vision clouded over with tears, throat closing up in shame.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Dowoon cooed, hand reaching towards yours to grasp it tightly in his large grip.

“Y/N, we understand why you were stressed and angry, we really do. So don’t apologise,” Sungjin explained, his warm, brown eyes smiling at you and spreading love through your body to the very tips of your toes. In fact, all of them were smiling at you so lovingly you burned with embarrassment at the way you have acted, in shock at how angered you had gotten at their kind gesture. Before you could dwell on it too long, Sungjin spoke again. “Just…do us a favour, Y/N?”

You nodded slowly, eying Sungjin’s now sad, bitter smile and feeling your stomach twist in pain.

“Let us help you next time. Let us know how you’re feeling, and if there’s anything we can do to help you. You have five shoulders to cry on if you want, take your pick,” he laughed quietly.

“He’s right,” Wonpil agreed, tugging playfully on your hair. “We care about you, you’re like our family. So please, just tell us when you need help. You’re never alone, you have us. Ok?”

Everyone looked at you expectantly, a sort of sad hope in their eyes that you wouldn’t dare squash.

“Ok,” you breathed, smiling at the wide grins spreading one each beautiful face.

Wonpil is right. You’re never alone. Not with this crazy and dysfunctional family.

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sending-the-message · 7 years

Text

Charity or Ransom? “Just $5.00 a day can save a hungry child in need.” by xSammy13x

“Just $5.00 a day can save a hungry child in need.”

The commercial informed those in the sub shop. No one paid it any attention, continuing with their meals. Malnourished children flashed across the screen, looking sad and desperate.

“P-Please…donate today.” One of the children said staring with dead eyes into the camera; voice cracked, and weak.

It’s the ice cream truck music playing from a hidden source that signals them. It was the secret warning of the day. Get inside. Now. Don’t stop for anything. Don’t stop for anyone. Run. Hide. Wait for the next signal.

I snatch my brother by the arm, just as he is reaching out for me. He’s three years my junior. Three long years he would have to deal with this fear without me; though, if I had my say, I would share it with him and my parents always.

We rush full speed back to the house. We don’t stop for those who were not in on the hidden message. The poor sods who continued to swing on their swings, or playing in the sprinklers on their lawns. It was sad at first, and there was still a twinge of guilt there as they went about their day, but as long as it wasn’t them, then I could be okay…

The black truck first went down Winslow Drive. It stopped, to shrills and pleas of no, as they snatched up young Selena Miller, and her cousin April.

My brother and I stumbled into the old, repurposed bomb shelter in our backyard. It was built close to our oak tree, and was often covered as innocently as possible in leaves, toys, and other rubbish. The top of the shelter looked like a sprinkler head in the ground. If you pulled that up, it lifted a piece of grass, where the trap door was that lead inside.

It had been built by my grandfather. He wasn’t exactly a prepper, per se, but he was certainly always prepared for the worst whether it be a storm, or…

The other vans and trucks started coming then. Twenty in total. They were flying down streets, causing people to grab their children and make a run for it. Those without kids, or just old enough themselves to no longer be victims could only watch. Those just old enough not to worry, still violently flinched as the men and women jumping out of the vans in their grey jumpsuits passed them, or found themselves instinctively running away.

Others, they just stood there with a numbness to it all. Why fear something you have no reason to fear? They never had a reason to be scared of these people, and if they never had children, they never would. And then, was the last group. The sickening grins plastered to their faces as they watched the events unfold. Their numbers were the smallest, but they were growing every day. To them, this was a sport. Sometimes, you could see them making bets on who would be taken today.

“J-Just read a book or something. Play one of your games. Should hear something soon.” I tell my brother, as make it down into the shelter.

God bless my grandfather. It wasn’t what you pictured when you first heard the words: bomb shelter. It was more of a proper underground one story house. If my father had anything to say about it, in the next few years, it would be two. He just had to be slow and subtle about it. Couldn’t draw any attention to what he was doing until we were old enough.

“I think I know the routine by now.” My brother sasses me, and I don’t mind. It feels normal, you know? No fear.

“Three more years of this shit.” I tell him, shaking my head, and throwing myself on to couch as he sets himself up in the chair, and turns on his spare Xbox 360. His newer Xbox One safely setup in his bedroom.

“Six months, for you.”

“No.” I shake my head, and turn to look him in the eyes. “Three more years.”

“No! No! Please! Not my only son! Please!” Mrs. Spencer was screaming, reaching out frantically for her son, arms wailing helplessly in the air. Her husband was holding her back, as a woman in a jumpsuit carried off her two-month-old she had just taken from the woman’s stroller. “I’ll pay! I’ll pay up! Please! Please!”

“Now, now, Mrs. Spencer. You know we can’t trust you not to default on your liens again.” The woman holding her infant informed her.

“Not my boy! Please! You already got my three girls, plea-”

“Mother.” Another woman appeared then, stepping down out of the back of the van, causing her to gasp, and for Mr. Spencer’s grasp on her to tighten in surprise. “Be. Quiet.”

“Katlynn!” Relief washed over her as she said this. She had only seen her in commercials, briefly, in the background, for the passed seven years. She barely recognized her. So much taller. Leaner. Blonde hair cropped short from the long, flowing curls she once kept it in.

“He is coming with us, mother.”

“Wha- no! Katie, no!” She pleaded, breaking free from her husband, and running to her eighteen-year-old daughter. “You c-can’t! You know how they-”

“Please. If you cared so much about any of us, you would’ve paid.”

“There were three of you taken! We couldn’t afford to get you all o-”

There was a loud crack in the air as Mrs. Spencer was smacked so hard by her daughter, she fell back to the ground at her husband’s feet clutching her bright red, and bleeding cheek.

Katlynn surveyed the front lawn. It had been so long since she had seen it. She almost expected it to be exactly the same. Almost. What she didn’t expect was the brand new car in the drive way, or the above ground pool she could make out sticking up slightly above the back fence.

“Do you remember when I was first taken, mother?”

“W-What?” Mrs. Spencer was holding her bleeding cheek. “Of course I do!”

“When I was first taken, it was only $3 a day. Remember? I do. I had been saving my allowance in secret for years before Amanda and Emma were taken. I had almost $60 dollars saved. I wanted to buy myself that ridiculous Barbie playset at first, and then it was some horse stable thing…it doesn’t matter, really…the point was, after they were taken, I knew I had at least a month’s worth of money saved to keep me safe, and do you remember what you said?”

Mrs. Spencer remained silent, and Mr. Spencer took a small step backwards away from her, causing her to look back at him with wide, terrified eyes over her shoulder.

“When they came for me, just like this…I stood up on those very front steps right there, and pulled the money out of my pocket- I never went anywhere without it, you see. Scared shitless. I’d seen the commercials. I knew if I had some money, they’d leave me alone…and you said- oh, I’ll never forget it, you said- ‘thank you, dear. I’ll put this away with the money we’re saving up for your sisters.’ I couldn’t believe it. I had twenty days worth of money saved up, and you just…you pushed me towards them. ‘Go on now, honey. Tell your sisters we said, hello. Tell them to be good. Tell them, we’ll be seeing you all soon. For Christmas.’ Tell me, mother…which Christmas was that, exactly.”

She walked briskly up to her, placing her dark black work boot on her chest, forcing her into the ground. If anyone put up a fight, they were allowed to use lethal force, if necessary. As far as she was concerned, she was being far nicer to her pathetic excuse for a mother than she ever deserved.

“I remember it was only a dollar a day, when Amanda and Emma were taken…I really believed you were bringing us home. I was shocked you were sending me away, but I mean…a dollar a day, mother! A measly $365 a year, mother! Do you know what that means, mother? Less than ten grand…you could’ve had your twins back, for less than ten grand.” She stomped her steel toed boot down in her ribs, and the woman below her let out a scream of pain as something audibly cracked.

“Now, I knew that the price had changed, and to get me back in your life, would be the same price for what it would’ve cost to get them back…and you know what? If you had gotten them out, or even one of us…I could have forgiven you. I could have said to myself that you were trying. You were trying to find the money, and pay for us to come back…but you never did…and I had to watch…” Katlynn took a deep breath threw her nose, closed her eyes, and tried to collect herself. She failed. Her left cheek was twitching with a pent up rage she had known for years, but in only the last two months had been allowed to explore. “I had to watch them die, when you stopped paying even daily fees. Not you!” She brought her foot down on her mother’s chest again, but switched to her face when her sharp cries got to be too grating. “Just…just so you could have another kid?” She was laughing harshly, manically. A loud thud and sickening squishing sound were accenting every other word. Blood was spraying every which way now. “You…you fucking bitch! WHY COULDN’T YOU LEARN? WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE US?!” She kicked her in the face now, over, and over, and over, while her father and the others watched on…

“You don’t have to keep hiding with me once you’re too old to be hunted.”

I was almost nodding off as my brother spoke. I lifted my forearm up off my face, and cracked an eye open. “The fuck are you talking about? Of course I do.”

“Why?” He hadn’t even paused his game to look back at me. His eyes were fixed on the TV screen in front of him. “Once you hit eighteen, you’re too old. They don’t care anymore.”

“So?”

“So…what’s the point? Seems kinda stupid to spend a few hours a day hiding down here in a box.”

“Not a bad looking box, though. Like a first apartment. Even got fake windows, for Christ’s sake.”

It was true. Grandpa first had window panes with pictures of bright sunny skies in them, green grass, the whole nine yards…dad on the other hand took it a step further and replaced them with digital frames, and a new weather played out over the course of the day and tried to match up as best as it could with what was actually happening outside.

“I guess so…”

“You could take your first girlfriend down here. Maybe get laid.” I pause. “I should take a girl down here and get laid…or a guy. Honestly, just getting laid seems fun, at this point.” I laugh, and sit up on the couch, staring at the back of my brother’s head.

“You think I’ll ever get a girlfriend?” The question was genuine, which was upsetting to me. I had thought he may crack a joke about me being a lesbian, or just surprised I had admitted to him that I was a bit bi curious, but no. He was more interested in whether he would have the normalcy of something as a girlfriend.

“Of course. I’m sure there are plenty of girls, in plenty of bomb shelters for you to fool around with.”

He silently shook his head, but I could see the corners of his mouth pull into a small smile.

“Thanks.”

“Any time, nerd.”

“No, seriously…thank you…for…for saying you’ll keep coming down here with me.”

“…any time, Jay, any time…” I reach out and gently ruffle my brother’s ginger hair.

“Just $5.00 a day can save a hungry child in need…”

The commercial always played more when they were out getting kids. It was a reminder. Pay up, or this could be your child. It was someone’s child.

“P-Please…donate today.”

“THEY’RE IN THE PARKING LOT!” A man’s voice broke through the air, interrupting Mr. William’s 6th grade math class, causing a lot of screaming. It was summer, sure, but these kids were there practicing. Studying. If they got caught, they would need it. Some of them were going to need it now.

Several black vans opened up, and began making their way into the school, to the panic of the students inside. They were coming earlier and earlier every day, Mr. William’s sighed to himself, set down his dry erase marker, and sat dejectedly in his seat.

“J-Just…just remember your times tables. You’ll be alright. Ask…ask the older kids for help, if you need it. Some of you have siblings- cousins there…they can help.”

He had been taken himself as a child. He was only twenty three. He could have become a Snatcher. He couldn’t become a Snatcher. He decided to teach. To help.

“Please, I’m so hungry…” The child in the commercial informed the camera. “Mommy…Daddy…please…send money. Send help. Help me. Help me. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Mommy, please. Just two thousand more, and I can come home. Sell the house. Mommy.” Another child took over.

“Daddy, please. I know I’m okay, but the other kids…they need help. You gotta donate for them too, daddy.” A cleaner boy came onto the camera.

If he had been there long, it was hard to tell from just looking at him. Any signs he had been would have to be from the length of time he started showing up in commercials. The sickest and frailest were always the first to be shown, they were the reminders. The ones like him, they were there to show if you obeyed the rules, your child would be fine. He was fine…in terms of health, at least. Mentally, he wouldn’t be sure if anyone at the facility was fine.

It was dinner time. The children at the, Darwin’s School for a Better Tomorrow, were separating into their normal lines. They had their vouchers in hand, to trade for food. If their parents paid the full $5.00 a day fee, they had blue tickets. If their parents paid over, they got gold, and a number printed on it to show what they could spend. If they had red, their parents paid something, but not quiet the full amount. Children whose parents had paid nothing, or had no extra money remaining, got nothing. They were forced to sit and watch the others eat.

If someone wanted to share, it was a risk, but not absolutely forbidden. It was, however, questioned and scrutinized. Why feed the weak? What does sympathy get you? Your parents aren’t paying for them, they barely paid for you! Sometimes, it wasn’t worth listening to the berating. It could go on for hours. And so, children starved…

The only saving grace to those whose parents were too poor to pay for them daily, were those who accomplished high grades. If you were in the top ten in your classes, and needed to, you could trade grades for food. Classes were a harsh competition. So many little geniuses cramped into one place, all in the name of a better tomorrow…

“…can I get some of your chips? If…if you give me just one or two, and Billy gives me one or two grapes…”

“No.” The ten-year-old girl replied confidently. There was no way she was sharing. She had earned these chips. She had no family on the outside to sponsor her.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Give me some of your fucking chips.” The thirteen year old boy demanded, standing up in his seat now, to stare threatening down at his classmate. This was forbidden. Asking for food and sharing it was one thing, but violence and threats were another, and treated harshly.

“Mason! What have we told you about this?” The voice called through the room, causing the entire lunchroom to stop talking instantly. Everyone tensed up, and froze, only their eyes moving to see what was happening, if they dared watch at all.

“But- no! Please! I-I’m just so damn hungry! Please!”

Mason had been a portly boy when he was taken. He was slower than all his friends had been. He was now skin and bones, and was almost always a figure seen on the commercials begging for aid.

“We’ve warned you twice! Twice! You know the rules. No food. One week. Listen up!” Whether they were watching the scene unfold before, everyone in the room swiftly turned their heads in the direction of the Director. He was a hulking, burly balding man with glasses. “No one is to share food with Mason. If you do, you will share in his punishment, and be graded on a curve for the rest of the semester! Twenty points off! Understand me?”

Two points could cost you a meal. Hell, one could. Once, a girl missed dinner by half a point, for not properly showing her work in math. She died that week…

“No! No! This is bullshit! Bullshit!” Mason reached out, grabbing as much food as he could from the other plates, and throwing them into his mouth.

“Mason! Mason! You stop it this instant!” The Director shouted at him, and he signaled for some of the guards to go and get him. “Mason!”

“Fuck you, you balding fuck!” Mason replied, mouth full of anything he could get his hands on. “You can’t do this! You can’t do this! My family will hear about this!”

“If your family cared about you at all, they’d have paid for you. They want you to die in here, you disgusting, ignorant slob.” The Director hissed coldly as the guards dragged Mason out of the room. He was headed to detention. You didn’t want to head to detention. It was solitary confinement. A dark cell. No lights. No bed. There wasn’t even a toilet. You had to be taken there…if you were lucky. It was secretly called, damnation, amongst the students. “They wanted you to learn something in here! Become a useful member of society! What are you all staring at? EAT! Or no one eats!”

“You think…you think if we ever get taken, dad will have enough to get us out?”

“…yeah. Yeah, I would think so.” He spent enough on the shelter, which made me think he must have extra money squirrelled away. He always had told us he wouldn’t make us stay there.

“You think it’s as bad as the commercials make it look?”

“No…no, I mean…that’s…those kids gotta be dumb as shit. Or like…their parents gotta be super poor. You gotta figure, right now…a year is only $1825, right? You can bang that out easy, if you need to…take out a loan, or…or sell yourself. Something. Do that a few times, and the whole thing gets paid up. Hell, Mr. Hallworthy? He doesn’t even have kids, and he pays, too. So…so that money has to go somewhere. Has to help some of them in there.”

“I guess so…that makes sense.” My brother nods. “I think I’ll help them, too…when I’m old enough.”

“Me too, man…me, too.”

A dog barking through the intercom caught our attention. Our parents were home. That was the signal we could come out. Never anything that could be intercepted, telling us we could come out. They didn’t even want to draw attention to our hiding spot by having them come out to the yard and get us. We didn’t want to be caught.

“Finally. Save up. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I tell my brother, standing up off the couch and stretching in place.

There was another exit that lead into the basement of the house, but it was under the washer. It could only remain hidden if someone closed it over us. And it only opened from this side if we approved it.

It was a hell of a system. Exhausting. But it worked. And sure, sometimes the Snatchers only took one or two kids at a time. Not like today. No, the rules were simple:

1. You were always better in groups, and with someone you could outrun.

2. Know your surroundings. You were better off near a hiding spot.

3. You were better off if your parents saved money to pay the upfront fees to keep you from being taken.

4. Don’t. Get. Caught.

The Snatchers sometimes wouldn’t come for a week or more, but they always came, and we always hid…we were never caught.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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readerwinterbarnes · 7 years

Text

Cure For Failure

Bucky x Amanda Stark, OFC

Summary: Amanda failed her test miserably, and Bucky and Tony take it in their own hands to make sure her day isn’t completely ruined.

Word Count: 2,518

Warnings: fluff, just tons of fluff, sad OFC, some tears are shed, dad Tony, it’s a puppy so of course, I’m going to write in a puppy!

A/N: for the lovely thebeastinsideusall on AO3 who suggested I’d write this and M_rude14 who encouraged me to keep doing my best. Summer classes are hard and their tests harder, so a fluffy story was needed. So thank you lovelies for helping me through it!

“Fuck him! Fuck his pasty old white ass and his shitty test writing!” The team watched as Amanda barged into the living room spurting out insults about her professor while tossing her bag off to the side. Marching straight down the hallway, only to come back a few short minutes later dressed in her workout clothes and headed straight towards Natasha.

“Nat, I need to spar. You free?” Amanda was still furious, really needing to hit something.

“Yeah, I’m free. Go down and stretch and I’ll be right there.” Nat got up and left.

“Why not me? You always spar with me, Amanda.” Steve made a small pout, which would’ve been cute if she wasn’t planning out different ways to make her ass of a professor disappear.

“‘Cause you fight too soft and I really need to hit something. Plus I don’t want to damage your old body.” Amanda left, leaving the team still utterly confused, while Bucky and Tony shared a look. Giving each other a silent nod, before they both got up and left.

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Amanda headed back to her room after sparring out all her frustrations with Nat. Burning it all out, even landing a rare hit to Nat that caught her off guard. And a shower, preferably a hot shower was next on the list. She heard the door open and close as she was finishing up, knowing it was her boyfriend Bucky. JARVIS would’ve informed you otherwise.

“Babe?” He called from behind the door.

“Be out in a second!” Turning off the water and wrapping a towel around herself, she stepped back into the bedroom and got dressed in her lazy clothes. Sweatpants and a sweatshirt large enough that could swallow her whole. But she didn’t give a fuck.

Bucky was sprawled out on their couch on his back, showing off the length of his legs. Without a second thought, she walked around the couch and plopped herself down and landed on top of him. Resting her head on his chest. Bucky being well, Bucky, barely even let out a huff. He wrapped his strong arms around her, tangling their legs together.

“What’s got you so tense, doll? Something must be up if you managed to land a punch on Nat today.” She huffs out angrily, burying her face deeper into Bucky’s neck, her answer muffled against his skin. “Not sure I understand that language, doll.” She lifts her head and glares at him.

“Wanna know what’s up? My professor’s what’s up. He put things on the test we never even went fucking over in class. So, of course, I was unprepared, and of course, you know what happens after that. I fucking fail! I failed his stupid test, which will more than likely affect my overall grade, which will end in absolute complete failure!” Amanda returned to her previous position. Except for this time, Bucky could feel wetness slide down his neck. He closed his eyes, placing a kiss on her head, he hated it when she cried.

“Doll, what’s your overall grade right now?” A sniffle and a quiet response answered him back, “A, B, and that’s with the addition of the flunked test.”

“You’re passing, so why are you freaking out about this one test?”

“Because I’m a Stark, Bucky. Tony Stark’s daughter! You know, daughter of the billionaire, genius, philanthropist, past playboy? The man who basically flew through college with fucking flying colors! Ring a bell?” Bucky stayed calm, unaffected by her outburst.

“Yes, you’re Tony’s daughter. But you’re Amanda Stark. You’re you, you’re not Tony. And you’re smart in your own way.” He brushed the pad of his thumb under her eyes, drying off the tears. “You’re doing so well and I’m proud of you.”

“I know, it’s just. I don’t want to be a disappointment to him, ya know? I want him to be proud of me.” Bucky pulled her in for a small kiss, brushing his nose against hers. “But he’s already proud of you. Man, if I could tell you a number of times he talks about you while he’s fixing my arm on two hands...I’m gonna need more than two hands. So believe me, doll,” he kisses her nose, pulling a smile from her face, “he’s proud of you. Despite this small failure.”

“Okay, he’s proud of me. You’re proud of me, everyone’s proud of me.” Bucky nodded.

“And don’t you forget it. Now, I got us some things.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and sat up, Amanda sitting on his lap. “I’ve got board games and cheesy movies beyond belief. Oh, and ice cream in the freezer. What do you want to do first?”

Amanda looked from Bucky to the various board games that were displayed on the table. She gave him an evil smile, reaching out to pick up the movie trivia game. “Let’s see if you got any further old timer.” He glared at her.

“Oooh I really hate you right now.” She laughed and pecked his lips quickly before sliding off his lap to set up the game.

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Bucky obviously lost by a landslide, but he didn’t care. Amanda had a blast teasing him and yet educating him at the same time, plus it brought a smile to her face. So, win-win. Amanda was in charge of picking the movie, while Bucky paid the Chinese delivery guy, bringing their food back into the room along with the tub of ice cream and two spoons.

“So what are we watching, doll?” Bucky asked as he sat down on the floor next to Amanda, handing over her food.

“Um,” she picked up the cover, “we’re watching Clueless because it’s super cheesy and a little stupid, but some would consider it a classic.”

“Well, I trust your judgment.” They started the movie and dug into their food. It didn’t take long until Bucky was grumbling under his breath, wondering why Cher needed a computer to help her decide what she needed to wear. Then when he saw the bags the girls carried, Amanda swore he was trying his best not to gag. However, he did laugh at the part where they almost killed each other with a semi-truck when Dionne was driving. Eventually, the movie ended and they found themselves back on the couch, Bucky laying on his back with Amanda stretched out on top of him. They were watching Legally Blonde now, well at least trying to. Sleep was hovering over them like a dense fog. Bucky just needed her to know.

“I love you, Amanda, whether you failed or not. You’re still my girl, you’ll always be my girl.” Amanda tilted her head up, kissing Bucky softly, Bucky slipped his hand to the back of her head, kissing her back. Amanda hummed against him, dragging her fingertips against his slight stubble. He tangled their legs together and turned them onto their sides so she was facing him, noses touching, eyes locked on each other.

“I love you too, Bucky. I’m glad I’m your girl.” Bucky kissed her nose, tugging her closer to him so no space was left between them.

Amanda laughed. “But I must say, Cuddly Bucky Bear is my favorite.” Bucky glared at her.

“I swear, I’m gonna kill Clint for giving you that stupid bear.”

Amanda gasped in mock hurt. “JB is not stupid, he’s handsome and fluffy.” Bucky pouted.

“But I’m handsome and fluffy.” She laughed and curled herself around him.

“You’ll always be handsome and fluffy.” They laid in comfortable silence, content in each other's arms.

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Amanda just finished writing her third paper, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Trying to force away the facts about Art Nouveau, and Rococo Art out of her brain. It wasn’t easy being an art major, especially if art history was your minor. It was absolutely exhausting, but it’s history and for some odd reason Amanda actually loved it. It was better than having to write or do anything related to microeconomics. Numbers and equations just weren’t her thing, not like her dad. Closing her computer she got up and went to the kitchen to get more coffee. Bucky and Steve were training the newest members, so he was going to be busy for the next few days. She didn’t mind, it gave her time to get things done.

“Sweetheart, daughter of mine, the apple of my eye, care to give your old man a hug?” Amanda smiled at the nicknames, turning to see her dad’s arms wide open, a truly genuine smile on his face. Putting down her mug, she walked into his open arms and hugged him. Tony kissed her temple, hugging his daughter tightly. “I love you munchkin.”

“Love ya too dad.” Amanda smiled up at him. Tony pulled away and looked at her.

“Now, you have five minutes to get ready. Or we’re going to be late.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, just dress casual!” Tony was already walking away, heading down towards the garage. Amanda rushed to go get ready, curious as to what her dad had planned. Knowing him, it was going to be worth it, but she just hoped it wasn’t going to be anything big or flashy. Not much later, they were both driving through the streets of New York singing along to ACDC, not giving a fuck who was watching. This was her favorite pastime things to do with her dad, singing along to their favorite music. Tony pulled over and parked in front of a building with a dog print logo on the sign. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers.

“No way...no fucking way!” Tony just smiled over at her, getting out the sleek black Audi. Amanda scrambling to catch up to him as he was already heading inside. There were puppies, kittens, rabbits, birds, the room was practically filled with animals she was trying her best not to jump up and down.

“Well, go pick one.” Tony’s hands were in his pockets, expression full of love.

“Really? You’re going to let me adopt one?”

“Yeah, you deserve it. You were feeling down, so,” Tony looked down, quickly shifting his gaze anywhere but his daughter, “so I wanted you to know that I’m proud of you. Plus you always wanted to adopt a puppy.” Amanda’s heart melted as she watched him, she’s never really seen her father like this, especially in public. “Bucky and I had a long talk and he agrees, we both think a puppy would be good for you. And one failed test doesn’t make me love you any less. You’re a Stark, which means you’re smart in your own way and makes you a badass.” She didn’t let him get another word in because she was running up to him and hugging him tightly. Shocking Tony, but he quickly hugged her back.

“I love you, dad.” She whispered into his chest, listening to the faint hum of his arc reactor.

“Love you too squirt, now go pick out a little guy.” Tony’s voice was raspy, clearing his throat, not wanting to break down in public. Amanda nodded and looked around. She looked at all the cats and dogs, of course, it didn’t take her that long until she found the one she wanted. His name was Jasper, he was already trained, which was remarkable for a puppy. But after looking into his big brown eyes, she was hooked. After talking with the lady at the counter, filling out all the paperwork. Tony, Amanda, and Jasper were on their way back home. She couldn’t wait to show Bucky the newest member of their family.

Tony left for a meeting when they got back, but not until he gave her certain rules she needed to follow, then sending her on her way. Amanda rushed back to her and Bucky’s room, seeing as he was in the shower, she let Jasper out of his carrier and watched as he made his way around the place. Automatically finding his way to the bathroom, pawing at the door. Laughing, you opened the door, Jasper pushing his way inside a small scream filled the room.

“What the?!” Amanda saw Bucky standing with a hand holding a towel around his waist, staring down at the little dapple dachshund who was licking up the water that was rolling its way down his ankles, while at the same time trying to climb his way up the towel. Bucky laughed, crouching down to pick him up.

“Who’s this little guy?” Bucky asked her as he walked towards her, giving her a welcome back kiss, not caring if he was getting her shirt wet. She pushed back a wet strand of hair from Bucky’s face, then kissed the puppy’s head.

“Bucky, meet Jasper. He’s cute, right? Yes, you are, you’re the cutest puppy out there.” Bucky chuckled and just smiled as he watched his girlfriend talk to their puppy.

“He is pretty cute, but not as cute as you, doll.” He kissed her temple and handed her Jasper, “Let me get dressed and then we can talk with JARVIS and get everything we need for him.”

Amanda followed him out, totally not staring at the way his ass looked in the towel or the length of his legs looked. And totally not memorizing the way his back moved, why would she? She already had it memorized. “You’re staring, dollface, see something you like?” Bucky winked at her, she just smiled in response and walked over to kiss where metal met skin, hearing Bucky’s breath catch in his throat.

“I always like what I see.” With that, she headed back into the living room, leaving behind a content Bucky. He often wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. He got dressed however and joined her and their baby, just as excited as her, to actually start living their life with Jasper. Amanda watched as Bucky and Jasper played on the rug and just smiled. She knew she was going to fail at things in her life, but she learned that it was good to be prepared to fail because it made you stronger and eager to keep going. Just pick yourself up, brush off the failure and move on. So that’s what she did. Yes, she failed the test, but that wasn’t going to stop her from doing her absolute best, plus, she had those around her who knew she was never a failure.

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