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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

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Chapter 10 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

To Sakura, world still revolved normally; nothing changed between them, nothing mattered enough for her to behave differently. To Sasuke, the world shifted in its axis, having revealed a glimpse of his true feelings to her however falsely convenient she deemed them to be; everything changed between them, everything mattered enough for him to behave differently.

Like flinching at her slight grazes on his skin or his ears picking up her voice in the middle of the crowd noises or his eyes following the trail of her rose hair tied up in a ponytail, bewitched by the sway of the strands as she tousled to get to the front of the fray, her fingers burning a hole through his sleeve.

“HOMERUN!” The announcer screamed through the microphone, the feedback running through ripples in the throng of people. “Uzumaki Naruto nails a clutch win in the last inning for his team in their first ever nationals!”

Screams erupted around them, and as others jumped and cursed and hugged each other, she stood there frozen in time, her hands on her mouth. “He won. He won, Sasuke.” Her voice quivered, and he knew then that she was crying.

“Yeah, the blonde idiot won.” He allowed himself to smile, picking the blonde among the ruckus that enfolded below.

An hour and lesser filled stadium after, the two went down to congratulate their friend with open arms despite the sweat and the grit. Sasuke went with the flow, jumping up and down and circling about in the middle of the pitcher’s mound. They broke away from each other’s hold after several minutes, breathless in the undertaking, and flushed with all the gleeful screaming.

Two firm pats on Naruto’s back and a ruffle on his porcupine hair. “You did well, idiot.”

“Ah I earned a compliment from grumpy. This truly is the best day of my life!” His teammates broke in laughter in the background.

“I’m so proud of you. I’m so glad we took the bullet train to watch your game,” Sakura said through tears. Perhaps it was the height of the celebration or the ride of her emotions; she reached for Naruto’s face and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Sasuke turned away just in time, thankful for the screams, hoots, and whistles that possessed the student body. In his aversion, he also saw another face who kept looking anywhere but at the two. Hyuga Hinata, his ironic comrade in heartbreak.

Haru was in the group of spectators earlier, a pseudo-coach and mood-raiser for the team, his undercut prominent against his cap. Sasuke guessed him and Hinata were civil enough to be enclosed in a common space. He walked towards her, hands in his pockets.

“I’m gonna confess to him in the cultural festival,” she told him before he could reach her side.

He leaned against the bleachers, shutting out the continuing noises from the student body. In the midst of it, he can hear Sakura scolding all of them for misunderstanding. “And you’re gonna get rejected.”

“At least I told him what I felt,” she replied. “Did you already?”

He shrugged, unsure himself whether he got the point across or not.

“You better make it clear. You berated me for giving mixed signals after all.”

“You don’t hold your punches, Ms. Hyuga.” Sasuke sighed. “I think she rejected me already.”

Hinata let out a small laugh, the first in his vicinity. “Well, I’m just giving back your advice. If you think it so, you should ask again.”

“A second heartbreak won’t do me good.”

“The future has a lot in store.” She finally landed her gaze on Naruto and Sakura who separated now and were engaged by Haru in some funny exchange. “Good luck to us, Uchiha. I’ll take my leave.”

Sasuke detached himself from the bleachers. “Without saying congratulations?”

But Hinata continued on her exit without giving him a reply. To his surprise, it was not only him who caught her leaving; a pair of blue eyes also followed after her, mouth agape, hesitant to call her name not when he was in the presence of her ex-boyfriend and ex-captain. Ah, we’re all stuck in this complex hell, aren’t we?

His phone vibrated against his pocket. On normal days, he would ignore the call, but today wasn’t normal and he had to act nice for the favor he asked.

“Did your best friend win?” Itachi’s voice greeted him.

Sasuke didn’t correct him on the terminology. He just grunted a small yes, and somehow, he can hear his brother smiling on the other end of the call.

“Glad my donation helped fund their team’s expenses. I take it you also spent some for the bullet train?”

Again, another small yes.

“That’s nice.” It was the first time he heard Itachi chuckle again after the accident. “I’m glad you have friends.”

They’re not my friends fell silent on Sasuke’s lips. All he wanted was to consistently rank first, have uninteresting interactions…but all of those foiled because of the two. “Yeah, something like that.”

He heard the beeping pager in the background. “Gotta run, little brother. See you.”

Little brother. Sasuke swallowed back an unfamiliar sound.

It was a sob.

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

Sakura tried to look at anything but him – the titles of books on his shelves behind, the heads of other faculty members bobbing, the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock. Kakashi clucked upon seeing her career sheet.

“Haruno, you’ll be graduating salutatorian, just points away from Uchiha Sasuke and yet you haven’t listed a university or a job listing. It’s referral season, and you’ve done a lot of good in this school.” Kakashi held his eyes steady on her, a firm line on his lips. “Don’t you want help?”

She mustered a smile, if that was what they call it nowadays, and handed him a filled out form. Whether he could see that it was written with wavering hands, she’d never know. “I settled on fashion design. I’ve always wanted to be a seamstress myself.”

That was a lie, and she knew Kakashi knew judging by how the firm line stayed. He briefly nodded and let her go.

Sensing the bubbling anxiety, she traversed the noisy hallways and almost sprinted to what has also become her safe space – the hidden spot of the boys behind the library. It wasn’t lunch time yet so Sasuke and Naruto wouldn’t be here. She slumped against the wall, sobs racking throughout her body.

Aimless was what she would describe her direction, untethered her depth, and a black hole her emotions.

“I wish you would let me help you.” Kakashi’s voice made her jump. She scanned her surroundings but cannot find a telling strand of silver in the hedges. He was probably standing on the entrance, just before the canopy of vines. “I didn’t follow you. I just knew the three of you went here for lunch and after-school chats. I’m a faculty, Sakura.”

“Please go away.” She never heard her voice sounded so small…and vulnerable.

“Sometimes, talking it out would make the burden feel lighter.”

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t wait for it. His audible footsteps were an indication he was moving away so she took the bait. If this was one way to be near him, why couldn’t it be in the guise of her pain?

She emerged in the hedges, eyes bloodshot red and strained, only to find him leaning against the wall, waiting with a handkerchief for her.

In an ironic turn of events, he brought her to the program she initiated. When he turned to leave to give her the privacy she needed, she asked him to stay. And that simple silent gesture gave her the courage to face her reality.

That her parents were divorcing, and in a futile attempt to cope, she made herself scarce, almost invisible.

Perhaps she was too much work for a middle-class couple with a lot of bills and unemployed siblings to feed. Maybe if they didn’t have a child that hindered their defining career opportunities to relocate or get promoted to an overseas position. Her outstanding community work and numerous distinction medals just weren’t strong enough to warrant a reconsideration of their decision.

And maybe it was a wrong move to get a part time job and dissociate from the pink-haired, studious Sakura and be the adult black-haired, funky cashier Sakura because it only gave them the idea she can live just fine on her own without any of them worrying about her instead of seeing the whole thing as a call for help.

“If you’re ready, you should share your problem to the two,” her sensei said when they finished with her therapy consultation.

“They have heavier baggage,” she simply replied.

“They’re not comparable. Naruto has an empty baggage, a kid with no past, yet he drags it around. Sasuke has sand for load, it’s leaking at the seams but he refills it. And for you, it could be air or water. It’s because you’re compressing them all inside that they become heavier.” He laid a hand on her head, an action of a sensei to a student. “Thanks for sharing some of those with me, Sakura.”

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

Cultural festival was an amalgamation of confessions, last clinchers, and stolen moments. Whoever snatched a dance with someone they liked would be blessed with good relationship – that was how the saying went among the ranks of students.

It was the reason why Sasuke and Naruto hid throughout the day in their spot, content to eat instant ramen, batches of onigiri, and packs of orange and tomato juices. Throngs of freshmen and second years were on the hunt for their feet as dance partner.

“If only they knew I have two left feet,” Naruto grumbled. “I can’t even enjoy the day with Sakura. It’s pathetic to think I’m stuck with you.”

“I second,” Sasuke said. “Do you think she’ll confess to Kakashi later?”

“She hasn’t made a move yet?”

Sasuke shook his head.

“Wait what do you mean you second?”

Minutes of silence ensued. Sasuke put a whole onigiri in his mouth, too flustered to say it right at his face. “I like Sakura.” The words were jumbled with his chewing, and he was sure Naruto didn’t catch it.

But the idiot grinned and laughed maniacally. “The great pretender finally admits! When did you realize it? Did you have the fireworks in your head too?” He even mimicked a rainbow with his hands.

“That’s a rainbow, you idiot.” Sasuke scratched the back of his head. “When she was busy looking at Kakashi playing the piano.”

“Ah, will we ever have the chance?” Naruto snickered. “Let’s confess tonight, grumpy.”

“Already thought of that and already prepared for it.” Despite the seemingly downfall trajectory of their common affections, Sasuke still managed a smirk.

Not to be one-upped, Naruto pulled out his phone and flashed a small bouquet of dahlias. “Ready to be picked up tonight.”

A Greek tragedy, that was them; two best friends falling in love with and being rejected by the same girl.

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Majority of the school population have gathered around the giant bonfire on the campus grounds, but Sakura knew Kakashi would be stuck in his cubicle in the faculty lounge, nose-deep in a novel, headphones in to drown out the noise, and feet propped up on his desk.

Tonight was the night she would bare her other truth naked to him.

But before she could even step foot in his space, she already heard the voice of his favorite book drifting across the nooks and partitions.

“You should be with your students.” Giggling and a sound she would only assume was a string of kisses.

“I don’t have much time with you. Let me be greedy just this time.” Hearing her sensei say that painted him in another light. So there was this very attached Kakashi, far from the laidback and chill professor she knew.

Sakura should turn her heels and join the rest of the student body. She should act like a good student model, ignore her teacher’s affairs, and pretend she was never here. Except she tripped while running, and that summoned the two of them to her aid.

“Sakura? Did you need something?”

She side-eyed Rin Nohara and shook her head, her one only good chance blown to bits by her own recklessness and stupidity. She muttered an apology and starts to walk away with limping feet when Rin stopped her.

“I’ll get a drink in the vending machine. I’ll be back in five minutes Kashi.”

Thank God for women intuition, Sakura thought.

But inevitably she was left alone in the corridor with her heartbeat far stronger than the noise of the band outside around the campfire and the unknowing subject of her admiration. She held tightly to his rubber tie around her wrist, the mark etched deeper by each day she leaves it there mangled with her pulse.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, a smile etched on his face, the soft moonlight falling on his features only to highlight his beauty mark. It was unfair seeing him like this only to have him break her heart.

She knew she didn’t stand a chance, but even then, she had to hear it clear and loud.

“I like you.”

Were three words ever enough to encapsulate the three years of affection she held for him? One word for each year she felt content with glimpses of him, may they only be passing shadows in the halls, an echoing voice in the adjacent room, the silent arbiter in council meetings or a silver strand she could easily pick out in a sea of black of white.

Kakashi looked at her, his smile still etched, his face still immaculate. “That wasn’t a question.”

“And that wasn’t a reply.” It was nature to look away when one was too scared to face truth, but for the many times he helped her, even without him fully realizing the extent, she owed it to him to be brave.

“But you already know the words.” A head pat, the same gesture that gave her comfort in the past was the same gesture that broke her heart just now. How easy it was for the breaker to give and take minute and mindless affections, but what right did she has to think they were special to begin with?

It was the end of an illusory conception.

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A bouquet of dahlias and a bouquet of daffodils were hidden behind Naruto and Sasuke. It was dark, already past seven, the bonfire in its final vestiges, its sputtering flames waiting for last-minute lovers to dance in their splendid light.

Within the shadows came the girl of their dreams, hair untangled and morose emerald irises dipped in pools. Sasuke first noticed the bare wrist, the rubber tie gone, and he knew then that she confessed, and she was heartbroken.

He didn’t need to say anything to the blonde beside him. Her stance was enough to convey her present state of being. What she needed right now were her friends, not aspiring lovers stupid enough to break the friendship label.

And so they hid the bouquets on their backs, safe in the clutches of the dark, and when she reached out to them, their free hands already grasped her trembling fingers in waiting.

There they were, three broken-hearted people, wallowing in their own respective pain, sitting on the dewy grass that would leave stains on their clothes the next morning. When the school band started the last song, Sasuke stood up, abandoning his bouquet on the side, and pulled the other two up.

“Would be a shame to end our last cultural festival like this.”

Ten steps later, they were in the middle of the crowd of couples, three awkward friends holding each other’s hands and stepping on each other’s foot.

“For the love of God, you really can’t dance Naruto. Can’t you do a simple turn to the right?” Sasuke complained.

“Why are you putting all the blame on me? You’re the one who can’t differentiate the right from left!” Naruto spat back.

She laughed, and it somehow stopped their bickering for a moment. Bent at her stomach and eyes clinched shut in crinkles, that was their Sakura.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 11

#SCPS #student council president sakura #sasusaku #narusaku #kakasaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #this did not feel heavy as i thought while planning it #is it a good or a bad thing? hehe #anime fanfic #fanfic #fic!pinkhairedlily #fic!pseudolily

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zargsnake · 3 years

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Knightkiller: Anakin and Obi-Wan’s First Adventure

Chapter 8: Priorities

Word Count: 2565 Links: Chapter 1, Table of Contents

* * *

Anakin hears the cheers for Obi-Wan turn sour, and he soon figures out why. It is no fault of his master's, who fights beautifully -- but there is a transparent dome-shield around the arena, and whenever someone in the angry, heavily-armed audience shoots at it, ripples of white electric shocks cross the dome and obscure the fight. Anakin is relieved that the audience is booing each other, not his master, though he worries that Obi-Wan will think they're booing at him.

Obi-Wan looks over his shoulder, trying to locate Anakin in the audience, and a blade suddenly whizzes by his neck. His reflexes protect him and he jerks out of the way, but a moment later he feels hot blood on his skin. He hadn't moved quickly enough -- the blade cut him sharp and swift. It hurts a lot more than he expected. It could have easily killed him.

He was so focused on finding Anakin in this crowd that he forgot Anakin's own words to him, his warnings about this opponent. Obi-Wan hadn't taken Anakin seriously about Tiango. Of course it was sad about Anakin’s “cool” gladiator friend, but Obi-Wan defeated a Sith lord not long ago. The experience buoyed his confidence to a fault. This Tiango -- not a Sith, not even a professional, just an ex-science experiment, just a Yooro -- landed a blow on him -- a pretty good one, too.

Obi-Wan rapidly teaches himself a lesson. Connecting with Anakin doesn't mean knowing exactly where he is. It means listening to him. Believing him. That's what teachers do. It's what friends do.

This isn't the Outer Rim, but these people are. This is Anakin's haunt. Obi-Wan will train it out of him, will make him a man of the Core. But for now, Anakin is the expert here, and his words must be Obi-Wan's textbook.

With his heart opened wide for Anakin, and his guard up because of Anakin's warning, Obi-Wan realizes he will have to hunker down in defense for a while. Tiango's assault is brutal and inhumanly quick, though Obi-Wan remembers that Yoroos do get exhausted -- eventually. What Obi-Wan lacks in comparative strength, he makes up for in endurance -- patience and energy, the long game, care -- these are Obi-Wan's secret weapons.

Anakin watches Obi-Wan deflect the same moves that once ruthlessly whittled down Crix Spartak, the gladiator who he had loved. The memory of that death match sends chills up his spine. He is certain that some of these blows must hit his master. Part of him is certain that Obi-Wan is doomed, too. Anakin had believed Crix would win, and he had been wrong. It is asking too much to have hope again, against the same, utterly evil man.

Though Obi-Wan has great endurance, his vibroblade does not. Out of habit, he treats it as roughly as if it were a laser weapon, depending on it for deflection, as a shield. Tiango's barrage strikes the metal and bends it back and forth into a zigzag, then into a knot. Obi-Wan is slowly disarmed as his blade becomes less and less tenable as a weapon. He has no choice; he has no other shield. The biggest bother is his own hand: the damn vibroblade is aptly named -- it quivers like a leaf in the wind, wearing out his wrist and weakening his fingers.

The crowd cheers enthusiastically for the graceful Jedi, chanting, "Kenobi! Kenobi!" Anakin does not join in. Obi-Wan could almost be dancing with his expert moves, but Anakin is not in the mood to learn from him. He gazes in hopeless terror at the duel. He watches bullets, lasers and slingshotted electrostones bounce off the dome, as well as gifts, toys and even people’s underwear. All such wild debris from this crazed crowd trying to reach out to their beloved or hated athlete, his poor, wonderful master.

The fastest or biggest bullets send fuzzy waves across the dome, but the dome quickly repairs itself. Anakin follows the arc of the dome, calculating the sources of its projection points from subtle distortions in the waves.

He moves the layers of fur in his stolen disguise to peek at the recharging screen on his hidden acid-blaster: 52%. No other weapons are making a dent in the dome. But no other weapons are quite like this one, and no one else seems to have figured out where to shoot. Could he crack the dome? What would he do then?

Anakin looks away from Obi-Wan for a second and scans his narrowed eyes over the happy rabble. He does not understand them. Are they seeing what he's seeing? They all shout and cheer, laughing and clapping, as if Obi-Wan is triumphant, as if he is playing. He looks back at his master. He sees that Obi-Wan is in great pain. Dying, even. How can the information from his senses, and the conclusions from his feelings, be so different from everyone else's?

Is he connecting, mentally, to his master -- using his supposed Jedi powers to see things for how they truly are? Is he seeing the truth, better than they are, because he is a Jedi, a Jedi Padawan? Is the Force giving him a special message -- because he, unlike the rabble, is a Jedi -- because he, unlike everyone, is the answer to a prophecy -- because he is closer to Obi-Wan than anyone else is?

Or ... is he, Anakin, wrong? Is everyone else right? Is his sight blinded by irrational fear, brought about by his utter dependence on this man? Did Obi-Wan really stumble, just now? No one else seems to have seen it.

Is he, Anakin, perhaps, confusing the past for the present? Crix for Obi-Wan? Death for life?

Is it all in his head? Or is it real?

* * *

Below the arena, Zlinky has memorized the map from the computer. With Jane, she trespasses through the employee quarters. They reach a large, important-looking office which Zlinky guesses is Knightkiller's.

She hears voices inside and shouts at the door, “Hey boss! There's fried fluunies in Rec Room 3!”

She backs off as the door opens and two people exit. Zlinky creeps inside and Jane blusters along behind her. Too soon, they hear the people coming back and Zlinky shoves Jane under the slick metallic desk; the robot is so big that two of the desk legs lift a few inches from the ground. There isn't much room left for Zlinky; she has to nestle right up against Jane's bazooka. A belt of detonators falls across Zlinky's lap.

She peeks over the edge of the desk and sees the people more closely. They look more decorated than the other guards, with sashes and medals, as if there was some kind of made-up military ranking among Knightkiller's cronies, a worthless army dedicated solely to this evil entertainment.

“These fluunies are great,” says one crony.

“I’ve had better,” says the other.

The hidden Padawan hears the gross sounds of chewing, and then the rather more alarming sound of Jane powering up her neutralizers. Zlinky quiets her and gestures for her to stop. Stealth has worked so far; it would be best to avoid violence, especially since these two seem important.

“I can't wait to run the missing Jedi kids through with this,” says the first one, as he ignites a lightsaber.

Zlinky stops gesturing, but Jane has already powered down.

“The Jedi kids must still be on the ship. No one's been allowed to leave and no shuttle pods have activated.”

“You think Jedi could survive in space?”

“No. Only the boss can do that. You saw them in those Coruscanti space suits, idiot.”

“Oh right.”

The second crony ignites another lightsaber. Even without looking, Zlinky recognizes the sound as her own. She feels something very powerful and uncomfortable. Taken aback, she identifies it as jealousy, one of the very worst emotions. Afraid of her own feelings, she is frozen, unable to act, unable to know if she is behaving rationally, according to the light side, or irrationally, which will lead her off the narrow path into darkness.

“They're real nice suits. I called dibs on the man-size one for me and the little one for my daughter.”

“Yeah...the gigantic one and the lady-size one are pretty useless.”

“I'll take the lady one for my kid to grow into.”

Zlinky thinks, I'm twelve! I’m not a lady! Though I am much taller than Anakin. So they say Anakin is missing, too? That means he's not dead! If only I was strong enough to detect his presence!

Jane pokes Zlinky and gestures to her blasters. Zlinky shakes her head.

We can't kill him! He's a dad!

They hear the two men walking closer and closer. One of them accidentally hits something with the lightsaber; the girls hear them cursing and smell melting plastic.

Zlinky feels time running out. This hiding spot is bad. She ran in here without a plan. She knows her decision-making is impeded by fear, jealousy, and access to a murder-droid, but she must decide something.

Zlinky quickly examines the settings on Jane's weapons. All these numbers and charts are too confusing to parse right now. She dials one dial back, but it only causes some numbers to rise and others to fall. She puts it back where it was, though the numbers are still not the same. The last time Jane shot someone, it wasn't fatal. At least not immediately.

The girl feels tears pressuring her eyes and throat. She doesn't want to hurt anyone. She has learned through stories and lessons that the darkness within is far worse than the darkness without. She is more frightened of doing wrong than she is of dying. There is no death. But there is evil.

She can't get out of her head a discussion she overheard from some of the older Padawans. This group of twenty- and thirty-somethings is the pride of the whole Temple. Everyone adores them -- the strongest, most beautiful, best students in school. Once they are knighted, then they leave the young people’s social circle to rub shoulders with the teachers, and have no time for their old friends -- but before they are knighted, they rule the school from the inside, and everyone lets them get away with a little more fun than knights are allowed. In those last years of Padawanship, they are the most free a Jedi can be.

Just last month, when Zlinky fetched the group snacks from the mess hall in order to bask in their presence, she found them in a very strange state. When one of them returns from a mission, the others crowd around to hear the stories and see the new scars. The latest conquering hero, a human named Sara Chid-wun, did not have a physical scar. But she had such an aura of bitterness around her that the whole group was affected, including the young interloper Zlinky.

Sara explained how she and her Master Kayji were caught in various difficult situations, and each time Kayji had neglected to act, so each time Sara had been forced to act herself, often with violence. It felt like a test that she continuously failed. And yet, ultimately, they succeeded in their mission. Sara claimed that Kayji would not address her concerns with anything beyond platitudes.

The whole experience led Sara to, hesitantly, conclude that Masters often take advantage of their students. Masters refuse to move, and claim they are trusting in the Force, or allowing evil to collapse in on itself, or some such excuse, while in reality they are leaving the sensible but nasty work to the impure, young Padawan tagging along.

The group discussed each example, and more from their own adventures, each trying to explain away their masters’ -- sometimes -- confusing actions, each unwilling to support Sara’s conclusion -- including, of course, Sara herself. But the group found that, if they were being honest, she might be right. Sometimes. So they had moved on to finding the moral lesson in this seemingly cruel behavior -- something about knightly violence being worse than non-knightly violence, something about power and purity.

And maybe they came to a satisfying explanation among themselves; Sara herself seemed as cheerful as normal the next time Zlinky saw her. But Zlinky hadn't felt comfortable sitting in on their important big-kid conversation any longer, so she had left at the darkest part of it.

Tila has never forced Zlinky's hand before. Zlinky has never had to kill anyone before. But now the master is indeed the one sitting out, while the student is the one doing the work.

Is it okay to stray off the path when you are only a Padawan? Is it, in fact, expected, and necessary? Must she walk in the gray area beside the light, until she is a master herself, and can savor the light all the time, and never have to do any more wrong? When she is knighted, then she can delegate that dark stuff to someone else, someone young and obedient?

The thought occurs to Zlinky that she is not the one who would do the killing -- that would be Jane. But she knows that is a flaky excuse. Jane is her responsibility. Just as she is Tila's. The blood is on all their hands.

Zlinky turns to Jane and nods. Jane immediately stands up and neutralizes the guards. Zlinky pokes her head over the desk, sees the smoking bodies, and fears the worst.

“Are they dead?”

“ɪ ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ ɪᴛ. ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴄᴀᴘᴀᴄɪᴛʏ.“

“I'm pretty sure your full capacity is overkill.”

She tiptoes over to the guard's bodies. One seems to be breathing. The other, she can't tell.

She can't alert anyone to the danger, and she doesn't trust the medical facilities here anyway. But she has nothing to give them, to help them. She puts her hand on the soft, sandy hair of the one whose life is unclear to her, the one who has a little daughter.

“May the Force be with you.”

Her voice is a shaky whisper, but she's never meant those words so much as she means them now.

Please, please, live.

She pulls the lightsaber from his hand and turns it off, and does the same with the other guard. She finds three more lightsabers on their belts. She recognizes hers and her master’s; two of them must be Anakin’s and his master’s; the last one could be Glagret’s, a.k.a. Knightkiller’s. It's green, and of the same old fashion as her master’s. She is surprised and glad that it isn't red. But maybe Knightkiller carries her red one on her person. Or maybe, just maybe, the Sith are not at all involved. She prays that they aren't.

Zlinky and Jane hide the bodies behind the desk and lock the door behind them. Zlinky turns away from the door and does not look back.

They were gonna kill me. They still will kill me, if they figure it out. I have to act in self-defense. And I have to save the other three Jedi. These people may be people, but they are low-lives, murderers, and lawbreakers. It wasn't my choice that they got in my way.

Chapter 9: Crix Spartak

#my story #my art #star wars #knightkiller: anakin and obi-wan's first adventure #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #chahlee tiango #zlinkgwal zalt #jane #scifi #adventure #drama

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stcrling · 4 years

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✧・ﾟ: jordan fisher + cis male + he & him | if you’re ever by room 5e, you might see sterling thomas floating around. you know , the twenty-five year old taurus who’s lived in the complex for two years ? you know , the musician seems to remind everyone of carrying around a guitar on your back, random dance moves at any given moment, one too many cups of coffee. i wonder if that has to do with their stand-offish yet charming personality.

hello again my lil cupcakes , it’s me , blue here with my second lil dumbass , sterling. just like before you can like this or message me if you wanna plot !

stats.

name : sterling zachariah thomas.

age : twenty - five

orientation : bisexual

height : 5′10 , yes i am making jordan fisher taller don’t judge me

zodiac : taurus

style : laid back , skinny jeans , round neck cotton t shirts ( favorite colors include pink, yellow, and blue ), usually has his guitar with him

lil things.

background.

sterling thomas was born to a single father in palm springs , california. his mother was never interested in raising him but his father stepped up & took care of him with pretty much nothing to his name.

sterling & his dad are incredibly close ! his dads like his best friend and they’ve been through everything together.

because of his upbringing , sterling didn’t really have a lot growing up. they lived in a one bedroom apartment and he did little things around the complex to help earn money for him and his dad. teachers are his school were super receptive and always sent him home with food and things to make sure he was okay.

ever since he learned his mom didn’t want to stick around & was just out there letting his dad do this alone , his heart closed up a bit and he only really gave out trust to his dad.

however , as closed off as he was , he learned to dance his way around words to benefit himself and his dad. anything he could do to make sure they stayed afloat.

as soon as he was hold enough , he was working at least two jobs to be able to support him and his dad comfortably. it was a lot of work , but it was worth it.

once he turned eighteen and graduated high school , sterling already knew he didn’t plan on going to college. it wasn’t something they could afford or really even something he felt like he wanted to do.

but his dad has been saving little by little over the years without telling sterling and had originally planned on using it to get sterling into college. however , he wasn’t going to force him to.

instead , he told sterling about the money and let him figure out what he wanted to do with it.

for a year , sterling didn’t do much with it. however , he did buy a camera and some other tools to help him start a youtube channel.

besides his dad , the only consistency in his life had been music. it was his escape after work or after school. he had friends at school but never really wanted to spend time with them.

was always the kid walking around with a guitar over his back and making people swoon with his music.

SO ANYWAY ! on a whim , he decides to make this youtube channel.

it gains some traction and he begins to work some lil gigs here and there.

as time goes on , sterling wants to be in california less and less. and eventually , he dad convinces him to go on the road.

on a total whim with the saving his dad gave him , sterling leaves california and travels the states working little gigs here and there as well as vlogging his travels to build up money.

eventually , two years ago , he finds and settled down in vegas. theres something about the busy city that just drew him in , and he wanted to spend time really building a bigger fanbase.

he’s not a super super well known musician , but he’s getting there.

headcanons & personality.

character inspo : jim halpert , benji ( love victor ).

his personality is just a little bit hard to describe.

isn’t very open when you first meet him , can be super stand offish and it’s easy to assume he doesn’t like you.

however , it’s not that he doesn’t he just isn’t super quick to trust or let people into his circle.

has been in a few relationships but nothing has ever really worked out for him.

is a super good dancer but doesn’t ever take himself seriously.

beautiful heart warming smile i’ll cry right now

has a very sarcastic sense of humor

visits his dad in california at least twice a month

obsessed w kit kat bars??

can be super goofy once you get to know him but can also be a bit of an ass on any given day

curls. thats it. thats the bullet point.

i know that theres more but my head hurts and i want to get this out before opening so pls baRE WITH ME

sterling is a new muse so i’m still working on him :)

connections.

someone he met on the road , they could be from anywhere you want. would have been between two - five years ago. ish. give or take.

best friend , could be someone from or someone he met when he first moved in.

confidant , maybe they’re not friends but they kinda rely on each other.

ex(es) , could be from cali, from his traveling, or since he moved in.

opposites , with a more bubbly trusting personality.

will they / won’t they , we love a bit of back and forth u know what i mean

muse , someone that inspires his music & listens to all his songs before he posts them

fwb , pretty simple !

#lennox.intro

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bekahdoesnerdshit · 4 years

Note

ask Two for the angst ones this time: 13 for raini, 5 (possibly will be pertinent come the end of this minicampaign) & 29 (she literally has Any Weapon w/ her pact so it's fititng) for ayen, 7 & 10 (hehe I know there's trauma in this one) for cog, and then mix and match 4, 17, 18 between Caspian, Ryker, and Brilliance bc I don't know them as well and I would Like To

My life is just below readmores now, I guess. Will I ever learn to shut the fuck up? No! And that is a promise

Raini

13. What does it take to make your character cry? Oh boy. Raini definitely isn’t a big crier, because she a) doesn’t really let herself get to that point and b) hard pivots into “angry” over “upset” and she isn’t an angry crier. She’s cried twice in game so far, and probably not many times before that. In both in game cases -and likely the always alluded to but never seen “before times”- the catalyst for her crying was being overwhelmed. In a good way, bad way, whatever, but that’s the trigger. Just- Looking at something, not knowing what else to do but let yourself cry about it, and not seeing any reason to stop yourself. (shfjsdjkfh the funny answer is: during sex. But can you IMAGINE jskdfskjdf)

Ayen

5. Would they ever turn on someone they just met in order to save themselves? Oh for sure. Without question. Not without guilt, in fairness, but without question. She’s pretty well adjusted, pretty “go with the flow”, but she did grow up in a pretty cutthroat world. She was spared from having to make those kinds of brutal decisions from a super young age by Shadow Mom, but she definitely saw the fallout of those choices and learned that, while it’s all well and good to do the “right” thing, it’s much more important to do the right thing for you. If that means condemning some stranger to die so you and yours don’t have to? So be it. Better people have done worse, because that’s sometimes just how things go. I’ll be honest! This character decision was a completely on the fly one when we were having that debate in the library about what we should do with the information we learned in the library. But I stand by it. In character, Ayen 1000% sees whatever’s going on as Not Her Business. It’s fucked up, sure! But, you know. Not her monkeys, not her circus. 29. What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most? Bro I love that Ayen doesn’t have A Specific Weapon SO much. Especially because Pact of the Blade specifically makes it so that, whatever weapon she summons, she’s proficient in while wielding it. So she sees somebody using a weapon, goes “oh! cool!” and summons it herself, and then just. Intuitively knows how to use is. How fucking funny is that conceptually?? Her go to if things are serious or she doesn’t have time to pick something obscure is a longsword. Dad uses a greatsword, and a longsword is pretty close to that! Image how cool they looked fighting off assholes, back to back, with two bigass swords? Is that the only reason it’s her favorite? No of course not!!!! That would- that would be silly. And childish. Swords are just cool is all. She hasn’t used any in game, but I think she honestly just doesn’t like any kind of polearm. It’s like, is it technically safer to be a little further from your enemy? Sure. Does it give you a small tactical advantage? Maybe so. But they’re so uglyyyy and they look weird and you have to use both hands and the balance is weird and >:( Spears can stay because you can throw them but you’re on thin fucking ice.

Cog

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why? Thank GOD Alex I wanted this one for Cog SO bad!!! Valentine WastelandGame! If you can read this! You’re a dead motherfucker!! This is for a variety of reasons including but not limited to: - Is responsible for the deaths of at least 3 separate world leaders! Uh oh! - Asked for my blood one time! To do Science on! Not cool! - Ace doesn’t like him. Enough said. - Called Ace “hotheaded” and “brutish” keep his NAME out of your MOUTH - Is fucking Maelo’s ex I think? Honestly I lost that plot on that one a little bit - Keeps taking Sunny on dates! We’re protective and Jealous?? Hard to say! We don’t have time to unpack this one let’s keep moving - Is convinced aliens exist? And are coming to attack the world? OKAY - Talks in fucking circles about philosophy and the greater meaning of “good” and “evil” in the context of the world. Like, no sir! Good is when you help people and evil is when you kill them! Except unless it’s me killing you which is going to happen because I can cast Finger of Death now and you better believe that spell has your fucking name on it. Freak boy. - Just like. Eats straight raw steak. Not Evil but really weird and probably not great for you? - Overall just a very bad slimy manipulative and stinky dude. 0/10 I’m gonna put an arcane bullet in his skull. Like. Everything Valentine does, everything she learns about him, convinces Cog more and more that the world would be a better, safer place if he wasn’t allowed to exist in it anymore. She was kinda neutral on the guy until he gave his grand speech in Cormir about how the only way to save the world is to ‘conquer and subdue it’ and tried to talk her in circles enough that she had to agree with him or seem like a hypocrite. Since then, it’s been a slow creep from “I don’t trust this man and don’t want to work with him again, even if it makes our lives harder” to “he’s dangerous and needs to be stopped” to “...if given the opportunity, I would kill him myself”. And now that she has our new friend the Shadow Demon whispering in her ear, telling her that “the world will tremble and change before her” and that she should “stride boldly, and fear not the consequences that may follow” honestly? The next time we see Valentine, he might be in trouble! 10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character? Oh, is there trauma in this one? Is there? Alex? Is there? Maybe so!! We’re gonna talk about Cog’s dad first, because he’s a) still alive and b) I KNOW you’re fishing for more mom angst. Cog’s dad name is Conrad Grace! He’s the head of Lafaroh’s town guard, whatever that means for a town of maybe a hundred people. I feel like his day to day really consists more of making rounds to check on people than dealing with criminals, although he likely has to break up the occasional disagreement or toss somebody in the drunk tank for the night. He’s also in charge of making sure the Guardians -the gods that live deep in the swamp outside Lafaroh and protect the town in exchange for food, building supplies, the occasional corpse, and other resources- get their offerings (This is Important, because he does Stop doing that soon). He married into he Grace family (that’s RIGHT he took his wife’s last name because it’s 2021 and he’s Woke not because her family like runs the town okay moving on), initially because I genuinely believe he fell in love! They were probably pretty young, because Lafaroh is very much a Deep South Swamp Town Analogue, but I don’t think it was just a social power move. The most important Conrad fact? He told Cog that he became disillusioned with the Church when she left home, because he couldn’t imagine continuing to support something he could now see had so clearly been hurting her. And I, Rebekah, a homosexual who has had Words with my Christian parents about the way their religion has hurt me? OH buddy we were a little bit of a mess about it. DM Ryan! Don’t you know I’m projecting!! Please be more careful! (Editor’s Note: This is the moment that made me realize I was projecting. Whoopso!!) Cog’s mom name is Charlotte Grace Sr. because, I guess, we’re freaks. I hate that this makes Cog technically a junior because the thought of anyone calling her Charlotte Jr. makes me break out in hives, but it is, technically, correct. The distinction while Cog was growing up was, instead, “Charlotte” and “Charlotte Olivia” because, again, we’re southern as hell. Charlotte Sr. is, unsurprisingly, the head of Lafaroh’s church, which means she very much has more actual power than her husband does. She did love Cog, I think, but in a way that very much more felt like someone guarding an investment than raising a child, especially when Cog became a teenager. She had high, exacting expectations, and grew more distant from Cog the older she got. Whether this was an unintentional side-effect of Charlotte Sr. becoming more engrossed in the preparations necessary to allow Cog to become the “Conduit”, or whether it was a purposeful decision because she knew she would lose her daughter and wanted the sacrifice to hurt less is unclear. Cog’s dad is kinda just a dude, but we KNOW this bitch has mommy issues. I also think an important distinction to draw between the two is that while I’m willing to give Conrad the benefit of the doubt and say that he may have just wanted Cog to stay in Lafaroh when they party returned because he was worried about his daughter and wanted her home, Charlotte Sr. wanted Cog there because it was Where She Was Supposed To Be, because she had a destiny to fulfill. More than that, when Charlotte Sr. found out that Conrad had stopped sending supplies to the Guardians when Cog left and had instead been selling them to Bandits to get money to rebuild the town, she was not nearly so understanding. She accused him of heresy, and ordered for him to be, uh. Flayed alive. Which wasn’t great. It’s what got her killed ultimately; Cog had to choose between her parents, and after watching her Mama summon a shadow demon that very nearly choked the life out of Sunny? It was a choice with only one possible outcome.

Caspian

18. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? What would they say they are? Caspian is. Caspian is Just a person. Like she is just out here doing her best, trying not to get killed by, idk. Pirates or ghosts or w/e. This is an endeavor that, statistically, could be going a lot better. I think the more interesting angle to look at this question from is the fact that she’s a monk from a well known monastery, and that there’s Expectations on how she conducts herself in the world as a result of that. She is Just A Person, but that’s not good enough. Not when she’s running around wearing Pelor’s holy symbol, representing his monastery, reflecting on him. For a long time, I think Caspian resented the expectation that put on her! Why can’t she just be a kid? Just a person? She didn’t ask to be raised by these monks in this kind of life. But when she left home and realized how suddenly lonely she was, there were quiet, sad moments it was easy to soften with prayer. Rekindling her relationship with her god was her way of staying connected to home, and I think it also made her want to go from being Just a Person to actually wanting to take pride in being a Good Person. And then her campaign lasted for two fucking seconds lmao so it didn’t even matter hahah! :)

Ryker

4. Has your character ever been hurt or betrayed by someone they thought they could depend on? What happened? YEAH BOY rye-bread got his SHIT handed to him lmaoooo His whole “why are you adventuring?” deal is that he fell in love with the noblewoman he was hired to escort across the country to her betrothed’s estate, and she played him like a fucking fiddle and convinced him -after her wedding, after she was pregnant with her husband’s first child and therefore heir- that she was in love with him too. But of course, because she was married, her husband would never let them be happy together. She talked Ryker into killing her husband, and promised to meet him the night he did it with horses and supplies for both of them. Anyone reading along at home with even a shred of common sense probably just said, “uh oh!” And uh oh indeed; she fully sold his ass out. There’s something emotionally devastating about slipping out of the bedroom of the man you just killed, his blood still on your hands, to find the woman you love standing between two enormous guards, but I can’t quite put my finger on what. Ryker figured out her plan in the following days he spent in a cell, awaiting execution. She didn’t love her husband, but by playing the role of grieving widow and anxious mother-to-be she could ingratiate herself with his family enough to be allowed to take control of the estate while her son, the true heir, grew up to run it. It was cruel, and clean, and if Ryker hadn’t managed to escape it would have gone off without a hitch.

Brilliance

17. Is your character afraid of death? Why/why not? Brilliance isn’t afraid of death, she’s afraid for what she’d leave behind. One of the songs on her playlist really leans into this (and I’m very excited to be posting her playlist soon! Stay tuned!), because she is terrified of what her death might do to Sienna. She never planned to become an adventurer, much less travel to the Hells to try and save an entire city. She was content, more than content, to guard Sune’s church, to help the people that came seeking her goddess’ blessing and guidance. When her city faced a sudden influx of refugees from Elturel after its destruction, she was even happy to volunteer to help the Flaming Fist keep order and root out would-be troublemakers. She never meant to get caught up in a job that would take her out of her home city, much less out of her home plane entirely. Every fight she got into in Hell, every time it seemed like she may be staring down something that might kill her, Brilliance had to swallow down the overwhelming guilt of knowing that if she died here Sienna would never know what happened to her. The image of Sienna, worried and pacing, looking toward the door to their apartment every time there was so much as a whisper in the hallway, desperate for any sign that Brilliance had come home-- It wasn’t delusions of self-importance or self-preservation that had Brilliance taking Glasya’s deal to save her from the narzugon’s clutches; it was the image of Sienna collapsing onto their bed and sobbing because she finally admitted to herself that Brilliance was never coming home. Still. Sienna needs her, but her party needs her too. They’re counting on her to be there for them, to take the big hits that they can’t handle. First one in, last one out; she doesn’t leave until everyone else is safe. She wants to survive, she wants to go home and marry the woman she loves, but she couldn’t live with herself if she did it at the cost of the life of someone who was depending on her. Brilliance isn’t afraid of death; she would die for her party members, even the ones she doesn’t particularly like. She just knows exactly what the cost of her death would be.

#sometimes.........i am a prose boy. sometimes....i write answers like 7 for cog. depends #rainivere #amnesia campaign #ayen morwraek #creepy campaign #cog #wasteland campaign #caspian #gos #ryker #brilliance #dia #syn-odics #answered #also idk if i've mentioned it before but it's very important to me that y'all know the bit about it being 2021 wasn't a joke #canonically wasteland game takes place in 2021 so folks things are Really gonna go to shit in the next four months lmao #uh oh!!#word count: 2633 #mine

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mishaandthebrits · 5 years

Text

MacGyver

"A government agent! Seriously Y/N?", Dean groaned still not over his little sister dating an agent. "He keeps his job secret from me and I do the same, it's not a big deal Dean.", you explained again and rolled your eyes at him. "You do know that the risk of getting arrested is incredibly high due to your stupid love interest?", he kept going making you mad ever so slowly. "You don't even know him because apparently you don't care about who makes your sister happy!", you finally snapped at him and turned on your heels to leave the motel room. Dean's face held surprise and confusion, after all you usually were the one being extra careful to make sure you didn't let anything slip. 20 minutes after your fight with Dean you opened the door to Mac's apartment with the key he had given you weeks ago. "Mac? Bozer?", you yelled and upon hearing no reply went to the terrace. You got your phone out and unlocked it typing a quick message to your boyfriend that you were at his place so he wouldn't be shocked before switching your phone off so Sam would not be able to track it.

Sitting on the edge of the terrace you looked over the city and thought about your life. Your boyfriend was a secret agent who thought that you thought he worked for a Think tank, while you were a hunter and he thought you worked as a nurse. "Y/N? Baby?", Macs voice got into your brain and you turned around smiling at him. "Hey...", you hummed when he sat beside you and pulled you close to his body. His arm was around you and he gently stroked your skin knowing that it relaxed you. These sudden visits usually happened after you either had a tough shift or a fight with your brothers and knowing you didn't work today he was sure it was the second. "What did they do?", he whispered kissing your hair and looked at you softly after a while. "Dean... my older brother... he doesn't want to meet you...", you sighed laying your head on his shoulder. Mac knew better than to say anything, he knew that whatever was on your mind you'd tell him in your own speed. Just when you were about to open your mouth again, you suddenly felt a shiver run down your spine. Mac felt it too and was about to get when you stopped him. "Don't Mac.", you spoke in a surprisingly strong voice. "What? But it's cold Y/N.", he frowned and just then saw something from the corner of his eyes. "Please believe me here Mac, okay?", you asked and looked at him. Upon seeing him nod you got up and walked over to your bag to get your rock salt filled gun. "Y/n! Why do you have a gun?!", your boyfriend spoke in a confused way having followed you. Before even replying you got the salt from his kitchen and drew a circle placing him in it by his shoulders. "Stay here okay? Did you bring anything home from work with you?", you then asked him looking around for the intruder in order to not be surprised. "Uhm... what's going on?", he frowned not answering your question. "I'll explain once it's done, now did you Mac?" "Y-Yeah, an old necklace, it's in my jacket.", he spoke and immediately you were on your way over to it when you were thrown into the wall violently. Mac was about to leave the circle when you yelled at him not to. "But you're hurt!", he argued while you aimed at the ghost and shot so you had some time. "I'm fine baby.", you smiled softly while being in pain to calm him down before getting up and finally grabbing the necklace. Pouring salt over it you light up the match and threw it onto it making it and the ghost that was right in front of you again go up in flames. "Okay, it's safe, you can step out of it.", you sighed falling to the ground. The impact had seemingly been worse than you had thought with the adrenalin in you veins. "What? What was that Y/N? Why do you have a gun?", Mac asked rushing over to you and helping you up. "Let... let me put that away and I'll explain... we both got something to open up there...", you quietly spoke and placed your secured gun on the counter of his kitchen before walking outside to the sitting area supported by him. Once you sat he looked at you and gave you time which you definitely needed. Thinking about how you wanted to start you had finally decided just when the door opened and Jack entered. "Mac?", he started and walked in, upon seeing your gun on the counter he drew his and stepped outside with it raised. "Jack, it's fine. We're fine.", Mac spoke, then looked at you. "We are right?" "Yes we are.", you agreed with a nod and saw Jack put his gun away. "Why is there a gun? You hate guns buddy.", Jack kept asking and let himself fall on a cushion opposite of you and your boyfriend. "Y/N was just about to explain that..." "Well... Uhm... I'm not a nurse, I'm a hunter... of the supernatural... what you saw earlier Mac was a ghost. She was attached to the necklace, so wherever that was, the ghost was there as well. They can't cross salt lines, that's why you had to stay in the circle and my bullets are rock salt bullets which don't kill them, but harm them.", you explained looking at only him and not paying attention to Jack who started laughing once you were finished. Mac on the other side only nodded and embraced you tightly. "Wait, do we believe her? Mac she's crazy!", the male complained and watched his best friend. "I saw it Jack. She's not crazy.", the male beside you spoke still hugging you tightly and slowly Jack started to believe it. "What else is real?", Angus curiously asked once he let go of you. He stayed close though and kept holding your hand. "Vampires, although they are not at all like the ones in movies, werewolves, demons, witches, oh and angels. Most of them aren't nice, but a few are, Castiel is for example.", you smiled at him and heard the sound of feathers just when you finished. "Hi Cas. Woah...! Jack! No! He's a friend!", you quickly spoke when the former soldier drew his gun again and pointed it at the angel. "Mac, Jack, this is Castiel. Cas, these are Angus, my boyfriend also called Mac and Jack, his best friend.", you introduced after Jack had lowered his gun and went to hug Cas. "Y/N, I came to warn you. Sam and Dean are on their way to this house and they are being followed by Crowley's servants.", the angel spoke making you sigh. "Thank you Cas...", you nodded before he disappeared again. "Woah... you were being serious...", Jack mumbled to which you just rolled your eyes. "Okay Mac, we need salt and do you have spray paint anywhere? Also water in a closable container. A lot of water.", you listed and right away he got into action. Handing you the paint you started drawing devil traps on the floor and ceiling then made holy water and last but not least salted the windows and doors just when Sam and Dean kicked it in. "Ever heard of knocking?", you asked raising an eyebrow at them. "Mac? Jack? My brothers are here!", you shouted and both of them came standing beside you. "Sam and Dean, that's Jack and this is my boyfriend Mac.", you quickly introduced before going back to business. "Devils traps have been made, holy water is placed all over the house, salt on windows and doors, my angel blade is here and you better have yours. Also made some devils trap bullets for Jack who is an ex soldier and sniper, so our chances aren't bad I guess.", you explained to them making Mac and Jack look at you confused, but also impressed. "Well okay, then let's wait.", Sam shrugged and sat down on the couch. Mac gently took your hand and lead you to the kitchen to talk to you privately. "Y/N... I don't work for a Think tank...", he started but you interrupted him smiling. "I know Mac, I overheard you and Jack and I have a few sources... Castiel might have watched over you to make sure you're safe.", you giggled and blushed which made him smile widely. "You do know you are amazing right?", he asked and kissed your forehead. "Someone did tell me so...", you smiled up at him getting lost in his blue eyes again. That just always happened to you. Moments before all hell broke loose you kissed him gently and smiled. "We might need your talent to improvise in this, it's not gonna be as easy as I though.", you sighed while looking out of the window and seeing a mass of demons.

#macgyver #macgyver 2016 #cute #fluff #adorable #x reader #reader #supernatural #spn

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eurynome827 · 6 years

Text

The First

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2,005

Summary: Your best friend finds out that you’ve been missing out on something important, and won’t leave you alone until he “helps”.

Warnings: not-very-descriptive-smut, language

Author Note: My first fic in a reaaaaalllllllly long time.

*This series is fiction - I do not know this man and this is an alternate universe RPF with no basis in fact.*

BY CLICKING THE READ MORE LINK BELOW YOU AFFIRM THAT YOU ARE 18+ AND UNDERSTAND THAT THIS STORY CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT.

How in the world did you let this happen?

You were in the most vulnerable position you could ever imagine.

"You're joking! You can't be serious!"

"Oh, but I am." You admitted with a wry smile, toasting him with your wine glass.

"How?? Your boyfriends, YOUR EX-HUSBAND? How did you get away with it?"

"One," you huffed, "I wouldn't call never having an orgasm getting away with anything. Two, I guess I'm really good at faking it because no one ever caught on."

"You never even...by yourself?!"

"Hi, we're having an adult conversation. Let's use complete sentences." You finished your wine and refused his offer to refill your glass. "Yes, bud, I masturbate but never to completion. I get close, I think, but maybe I'm too ADHD to concentrate on the end goal...who knows? I stopped worrying about this a long time ago."

He was flabbergasted. Kept widening his eyes and shaking his head and it made you more and more uncomfortable.

"Can we change the subject and let this go?"

Hours later you turned away from the tv when you were tired of feeling his eyes on you constantly. You stared back at him. "I'm serious. Let it go."

He took the remote, turned off the television and let his eyes settle on you again. "Let me help you."

In response you simply arched an eyebrow at him.

He continued sincerely. "Let me get you off. Let me do this for you. It's making me crazy thinking about it."

You were angry and flustered and worst of all getting. Turned. On. "Absolutely fucking not. No way." You stood up and began pacing and he just SAT THERE watching you, completely calm.

"Why not?"

"Okay pal, here come the bullet points. ONE, just no. Two, it's too weird. Three, it's none of your business what I do or don't do with my body. FOUR," you paused both talking and pacing as you took a deep breath, "you're too important to me to risk losing."

He stood and crossed to you as you stared at the floor. "Okay Miss Bullet Points. One," he held up one finger and wiggled it in your face, trying unsuccessfully to coax a laugh out of you, "you're my best friend and nothing will change that."

You rolled your eyes and huffed and he shushed you with his finger on your lips and continued, "two, I hate thinking that you're not getting something I can give you easily."

Quickly biting the tip of his finger so you could speak, you spat out, "You only THINK you can do it easily. Maybe everyone is as good at fak-"

His eyes darkened and he covered your mouth with his whole hand to shut you up. "Don't be rude. Three," he paused and took a deep breath and -what the hell was going on- "let me take care of you. Please."

You stood in silence watching each other. Finally, you nodded your ascent behind his hand and closed your eyes in - what? Surrender? Mortification?

He circled his arms around you. "Don't be scared."

"You're going to have to get closer."

You stood at the foot of his bed, glowering at him as he sat up against his headboard. The last time you had been in here had been a lost weekend of tears, take-out and depression napping as he cuddled you through the beginnings of your divorce. But now - "you can't watch me undress. You have to close your eyes."

He rolled his eyes, but then scrunched them closed in an exaggerated manner that made you giggle. "STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME LAUGH. I'm having a coronary over here." He grinned and relaxed his face as you undressed quickly and crawled up onto the bed. "I swear to God if you open your eyes..."

"Stop being a brat - I'm not going to do anything that will make you uncomfortable. I'm trying to help you."

You tried not to panic as you contemplated your next move. You scooted a little closer to him and turned around, aiming your back at his chest and slowly relaxed into him - or tried to. You were tangled up into knots of stress. He widened his legs to make room for you. "Is this okay?" You asked quietly, all the sassiness beginning to creep out of your body. "I can't look at you."

"Of course this is okay. I want you to feel comfortable." You sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again. "May I touch you?"

You felt the panic rising again and you were close enough to him that he sensed it. He shushed you gently and lightly rubbed his hands over your shoulders and back. Your breathing evened out and he whispered, "that's my girl."

His girl. Sure.

Tears began to prick at your eyes and you slammed them shut, willing yourself to calm down. You focused on his hands and tried to tell your emotions to shut up for once. He moved close enough for you to feel the cotton of his shirt against your back and you heard your voice squeak out, "can you take your shirt off?"

You felt him pull back from you, and the motion of him raising his arms and pulling his shirt over his head. When he gently pulled you back and you felt the skin of your back against his bare chest you couldn't stop the sigh that escaped you. He lightly ran his fingertips over your shoulders and asked, "do you want me to talk to you? Or do you want me to be quiet so you can think of someone else?"

It took everything in your power to not turn around and scream ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME straight into his face. Think of someone else??

Like you had been able to properly think of anyone else, for years.

Maybe THAT was the problem.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder and whispered "I want you to talk to me."

His lips brushed against your temple and curled up into a smile.

You still had the presence of mind to worry that your answer had given you away, betrayed you, but how much worse could this get? You were more at his mercy in this moment than you had ever been despite all the walls you had built to keep him out.

His hands moved slowly down your arms and moved to rest on your stomach - neutral ground, you supposed. Halfway to unexplored regions north and south. You almost giggled to yourself as you disassociated into narrating this insane experience in your head.

"You still don't want to turn around?"

"No, thank you."

"That's fine. Can you sit up for me, kneel and bring your legs underneath you so you are sitting on your heels?" He explained patiently and when you didn't move he dropped his head and pressed a soft kiss where your neck met your shoulder. "Trust me."

You sighed at the contact of his lips and tried to relax as you arranged yourself as he asked, aware that he was watching you and feeling relieved that you couldn't see his face. He was silent but ran a hand from your neck down to your lower back making your shiver.

"Beautiful."

You blushed at his praise. This was too much. Your mind was crowded with emotions and uncertainty. He replicated your pose so his chest was against your back once more and his thighs were on either side of yours, surrounding you - you felt - safe.

His hands returned to your stomach. "Any time you want to stop," he whispered into your ear, "we stop." Slowly he brought both hands up to cup your breasts and your breath caught in your throat. You rested your head back against his shoulder again. He was soft and gentle with you. "Harder?"

"No," you breathed out, "you're perfect."

"You're gorgeous."

You couldn't help giggling a little. "You can't see me."

He chuckled in your ear, "but I feel you, and I'm using my imagination."

All of your defenses were down now. But the part of your brain that should have been in emergency mode was eerily calm. Every thing you had was directed at the feel of him against you, his hands on your body, and the way he was making you feel. Without thinking about it you began to grind your hips back into his, and he moved his hands down to your hips and gripped a little tightly. "You sure you want to do that, baby?" His voice, hot in your ear, made you arch your back against him.

"Yes."

"I'm trying to stay under control here."

You stared at his ceiling as you contemplated your next move. You were done waiting.

"Well, don't."

You pushed your hips back into his again, and began to widen your knees, opening up and surrendering. He answered your grind with one of his own, and you felt him hardening against you. "Touch me," you commanded, waving the white flag. "Talk to me."

One hand moved to your breasts and the other finally found the major topic of conversation of the evening. "So wet, baby, is this all for me?" His voice was husky in your ear and that was the last straw.

"It's all for you. Always."

You half expected him to retreat from you after this admission but instead he dropped his head and groaned into your shoulder, moving his body against you as yours answered back. He dipped a finger inside you and you moaned, and then raised his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers. "Tastes so sweet."

One finger back inside you, then a second, plus his thumb making lazy circles on your clit and it was almost embarrassing how fast this was happening. Everything was building up and spiraling out of control so fast and you couldn't stop moaning and grinding and worst of all TALKING:

"Oh the things I want you to do to me and the things I want to do to you oh my God don't stop don't stop moving like that"

"Baby"

"Don't stop don't ever stop"

"I'm not stopping till I feel you come apart around me"

"Make me come and then I want to suck your cock and make you come and then I want you to fuck me in every room do you understand don't stop"

"I'll never stop I'm never stopping now want you want you so badly baby don't stop talking to me"

You were both lost. Lost in the simple ecstasy of telling the truth.

The spiral snapped and you felt yourself explode - there was no other word. He moaned your name and you heard your voice scream his -

"SEBASTIAN"

You were both gasping for air and he gently withdrew his fingers. You collapsed back against him, too euphoric to be scared yet. He broke the silence first.

"Have I ruined you for all other men?"

"You did that a long time ago."

He pressed his face into your neck and you felt his smile against your skin. After a few moments of peace he sat up straight.

"Turn around, please."

You moved to face him, slowly. You still couldn't look at him. He tipped up your chin with his hand. You had no way to process anything, you had given him everything. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, softly but then more urgently. You wound your hands through his hair and answered his searching tongue with your own. Your heart was soaring.

When the kiss broke you nuzzled his cheek with your nose and sighed. He sat back to look at you again.

"So. This was the truth."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Too scared to lose you."

"Silly girl."

You shrugged. He grinned.

"Well let's get to it." He leaned forward again and whispered against your lips, "you gave me one hell of a to-do list."

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut

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ohprettyweeper-moved · 5 years

Text

Have Faith in Me

Summary: After horrible rumors end your relationship with Tyler, it will take a grand gesture and a leap of faith to fix things. Pairing: Tyler x Reader Word Count: 2735 (without lyrics) Warnings: Few curse words, angst, implications of alcoholism. Request: I always love a good fic where a rumor appears that the boy is having a relationship with someone else (despite the fact that he is very public with his relationship with the reader), reader thinks he’s cheating, boy does grand romantic gesture or is just super affectionate to show the reader he loves them and only them. Super cliche, but still has lots of flangst potential! Your choice of boy! Thank you very much in advance :) - @takenvysleep It’s been a while, I think, since I’ve written a one-shot of this length! I hope it doesn’t disappoint! Song in the Fic: Have Faith in Me - A Day to Remember

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The smile on your face wouldn’t stop. Tyler had indulged you in an iPhone photo session of the two of you the previous night, before he had to re-join the current leg of touring, and now you were trying to decide which ones to post on social media. You finally decided on one of the two of you smiling together, and one of the two of you kissing, tops of your cheeks scrunched with smiles as you pressed your lips together.

“Those are so cute!” your best friend, Ava, assured, double-tapping the post as she scrolled through her Instagram feed. “I really thought Josh and I were the cutest, but you guys give us a run for our money.”

You simply smiled and kept your eyes on the road. There wasn’t much you could say without sounding overly-confident or biased, although you were one-hundred-and-ten percent certain that you and Tyler were, in fact, the cutest couple.

Ava continued scrolling on her phone screen as you navigated the way towards your apartment. The two of you had a lazy afternoon planned, complete with junk food, movies. There was a good chance naps would be involved, too.

“Uh-oh,” Ava muttered after a few minutes, her brow pulling into a worried frown.

“What’s wrong?”

Quickly, Ava stowed her phone in her pocket. “Just keep driving. I’ll show you back at your apartment.”

“Ava! How am I supposed to concentrate on the road when you clearly have bad news for me?”

“Nobody is dead or dying.”

You huffed. Clearly you weren’t going to get any more than that out of her, so you did your best to concentrate on the road and not speed.

Back at your apartment, the two of you hauled up the snacks you had gone out to purchase, settled on the couch, and Ava turned on the TV.

“Oh no you don’t,” you warned, snagging the remote from her hand and muting the sound. “That ‘uh-oh’ in the car wasn’t innocent, A. Tell me what’s up.”

The pleading look she sent your way told you she would rather swim with hungry sharks than show you whatever she had seen on her phone. Still, she handed it over to you, and you looked at the new article on the screen.

“Tyler Joseph’s girlfriend, Y/N, posts cozy pictures shortly after new pics of the frontman and ex-girlfriend-slash-actress Alexis Richmond are released,” you read aloud. Scrolling down quickly, you saw copies of your recently posted pictures alongside pictures of Tyler with his girlfriend. They didn’t look as cozy as the two of you, but with his arm around her in that protective way, they certainly didn’t look like exes. “What the hell? When would he have even seen Alexis? Maybe this is an old picture.”

“I hate to be the one to point this out, but check out his tattoos, Y/N. A couple of those he’s gotten since you two have been together.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you tried to justify what you were seeing. “Tyler is super open about his relationship with me. He posts about us, talks about us in interviews. He wrote a song for me and put it on his damn album!”

Ava held her hand out to slow you down. “I know, I know. This is the industry, okay? Lord knows Josh and I have been here more than once. The first time is always the most difficult. There’s probably a perfectly good explanation. Call Tyler.”

But you were too entranced by the picture of Tyler and Alexis. When did he even have time to see her? Between touring and interviews and sleeping when he could, the two of you had some days when you didn’t even have time for a phone call. But he had time for his ex-girlfriend. Yeah. That made sense.

“What are you going to do?” Ava asked just above a whisper.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you turned to her with as much of a smile as you could muster. “I’m going to do exactly what I planned and spend the afternoon with my best friend. When Tyler calls later — if he calls — I’ll deal with all of this. I’m sure it’s just some crazy media thing anyway.”

Ava didn’t look convinced, and you had to admit, you weren’t doing a very good job of convincing yourself that you believed any of what you had just told her.

Tyler wasn’t able to call until a couple of days later. You kept things light until then, not willing to hash out the whole thing in a text thread. You needed to hear his voice and see his face to know whether or not he was lying to you.

“Hey, beautiful,” Tyler greeted when you answered. The bags under his eyes told you he was tired, but you couldn’t let that stop you. You needed to know.

“Hey,” you returned. “How’s tour?”

Tyler yawned. “Busy. Shows are going great, but I’m looking forward to being back home with you. I really miss you, Y/N.”

For whatever reason, all rational thought fled your mind with that statement. Instead of feeling insecure and nervous, you were now angry and confused.

“Right,” you scoffed. “You missed me so much you went to Alexis to fix it.”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes. “I saw the article, Tyler. Ava found it right after I posted those pictures of us from when you were home last. Said I posted those pictures right as the pictures of you and Alexis came out. Not only have you been lying to me, obviously, but you made me look like an idiot! Like I was posting the pictures of us as some insecure girlfriend who needed to defend our relationship!”

“That sure as hell is what you’re acting like right now!” Tyler snapped back.

You nodded. “Okay. So you didn’t see Alexis? Those are old pictures or what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck with the hand not holding the phone. “I did see Alexis, when we were in New York. But it’s not —”

“Not what I think it is, right?” you interrupted. “I cannot fucking believe you! You saw your ex-girlfriend, got cozy with her, and I had to find out like some nobody. I’m your girlfriend! We’ve been planning for a future and now — you know what. Forget it. I don’t matter enough for you to tell me what’s going on when it’s happening, then you’re not worth the effort to hear what I have to say.”

You hit the red circle with the little white x in the middle, effectively ending the conversation. You texted Ava, asking her to come over, then set up all of Tyler’s calls to go to voicemail and all of his message alerts to stay hidden. You needed to cry and maybe drink, and definitely to never think about Tyler Joseph again.

Two months passed. You kept up with your day to day schedule, went to work, put on a happy face. No one from the outside looking in would have known that you had broken up with the love of your life just eight or so weeks before.

Ava could see it, though. She saw it in your weight dwindling just enough to make the change in your figure noticeable. She saw it in the quiet nights you two spent in your apartment, not talking, just being silent in the same place while you stared at the television or your laptop, pretending to be occupied by anything except how much your heart hurt.

As the tour came to an end, the boys inevitably circled back around to Columbus. Through Josh, Ava of course had tickets and passes for the two of you. She promised that Tyler was just as much of a mess as you were, but you refused to believe it.

“Just come with me,” she pleaded. “Hear him out.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t want to see Tyler; it would be like ripping the bandaid off of a bullet-wound. Too little help to begin with, but still missed when it’s gone.

“Fine. I’ll leave your ticket and pass here, then.” She dropped the items on the coffee table in the living room. “I really hope you change your mind, Y/N.”

After Ava left, you slumped onto the couch. The remote was in your hand, but you didn’t want to do anything with it. You held onto it because, at that moment, you needed to something to hold onto. You wanted to stop dwelling, desperately wanted that, but your heart was hurting so much, you didn’t know how to let go of the pain.

“Maybe going to the concert will give me closure.”

You tested the thought out loud, to see how you felt about it. There was some hesitation, some nerves. Some emotion resembling fear. Finally, you shook your head.

“This is ridiculous. I’m just going to go. If it’s really that bad, I can always leave.”

With a new determination — and, if you were honest with yourself, a deeply buried desire to see Tyler at least once more — you got up from the couch and rushed through a shower. You didn’t need to look perfect, so you kept your appearance casual but cute, shoved the ticket in your pocket and slipped the lanyard with the pass over your neck.

“Keys, phone, wallet … I think that’s everything,” you mumbled to yourself as you headed for the front door. You swung it open, taking one last look around the apartment to see if you had forgotten anything, and when you turned back around, Alexis Richmond was standing in the hall outside of your apartment. Immediately, you were on the offensive. “What are you doing here?”

Alexis held her hands up. “I’m not here to — I just want to talk to you, Y/N. On Tyler’s behalf.”

“I’m going to see Tyler right now, actually. Whatever he needs to say to me, I’ll hear it from him.”

You tried to push past her, but she stepped in your path. “Please. I really want you to hear this from me. Those pictures were my fault to begin with.”

You really didn’t want to hear anything from her, but maybe you could give her a couple minutes to explain.

“But only a couple,” you warned, motioning for her to join you. You stood by the door, arms crossed of your chest. “So?”

Alexis nodded and took a deep breath. “Tyler and I were friends first, Y/N, same as you and Tyler. When we were together — he left me because of my drinking problem.”

“He may have mentioned that once,” you admitted. “Go on.”

She chewed on her bottom lip for several seconds before working up the courage to continue. “I finally decided to go to rehab. I had no one left. My parents and my sister cut off contact with me after I made a drunken idiot of myself at the last family event I was invited to attend. All of my friends are in the industry, and they certainly don’t want to be associated with anyone who has to be admitted to a facility. When Tyler left, he told me that when I was ready to get better, I could call him. So I did. Those picture you saw, Y/N, that wasn’t Tyler and I being cozy. That was a million paparazzi trying to follow us, get exactly the story you saw, and Tyler trying to stop them from following us all the way to the detox center. I’m trying to keep my stint as under wraps as possible, and he was just trying to protect an old friend. I’m ninety-two days sober, and I swear, there’s nothing left between me and Tyler. There hasn’t been, for a long time.”

So it really hadn’t been what you thought, but you had let your emotions and fears get the best of you. Your insecurities had taken over and caused you to push Tyler away.

“I should have heard him out when he first tried to explain. It was easier to push him away than have my insecurities be confirmed — that someone out there was better for him than I am.”

Alexis shook her head adamantly. “That’s not true, at all. Tyler talked about you the whole time he was helping me — which was only a few hours, by the way. He came in to New York, got me to the facility, and went to do his shows. He checked on me once, that was it. That was when I found out what had happened with the two of you. I promised that as soon as I was okay to leave rehab, I would come talk to you. I’m going back because being in the real world has shown me maybe I’m not as ready to leave as I thought, but I had to come talk to you first.”

Once again unable to control your emotions, you crossed the room and hugged Alexis Richmond. “Thank you. This means a lot.”

“Tyler’s a good man. He deserves someone good like you,” she returned. “Now. I should let you get going. You’re going to be late.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. The two of you walked down to the parking lot where Alexis caught a cab to take her back to the airport. You got in your own car, prepared to fight traffic all the way to the venue.

The show was half over before you joined Ava in the usual spot towards the side of the stage where the two of you stood to watch your boys play. She hugged you tightly.

“I’m really glad you came!” she shouted into your ear over the music.

You nodded. “I was going to come anyway, but Alexis came and talked to me. That kind of sealed the deal!”

Ava smiled. You suspected she had known the whole story for a while, but she was always one to mind her own business. Anxious to enjoy being in Tyler’s presence now that you were aware of what had happened and that the misunderstanding had been all your own, you turned toward the stage to enjoy the music.

When the portion of the show came for the boys to do covers, the opening band didn’t come out as usual. You frowned and looked to Ava, who simply shrugged, despite the knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“I’ve got someone special here tonight,” Tyler spoke into the microphone. “I wasn’t sure she would show, but I’m glad she did. This one’s for her.”

Josh’s sticks rolled over the drums in a rhythm you recognized in a song that had to be at least ten years old. You still knew every word, though coming from Tyler, and with the situation at hand, they meant something different, something more, now.

Have faith in me ‘Cause there are things that I’ve seen I don’t believe So cling to what you know And never let go You should know things aren’t always what they seem

I said I’d never let you go and I never did I said I’d never let you fall and I always meant it If you didn’t have this chance, then I never did You’ll always find me right there, again

By the end of the chorus, you were, inevitably, crying happy tears. Despite the really dumb thing you had done and allowed to drag on, all Tyler was asking was for you to have some faith in him.

I’m going crazy ‘Cause there are things in the streets I just don’t believe So we’ll pretend it’s all right Stay in for the night What a world I’ll keep you safe here with me

I said I’d never let you go and I never did I said I’d never let you fall and I always meant it If you didn’t have this chance, then I never did You’ll always find me right there, again

When the song wrapped up, Tyler came to the edge of the stage and reached down for your hand. You reached up to grip his hand, and he pulled you on to the stage with him, near the piano.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, hoping he could at least read your lips over the sound of the crowd. He leaned in so you could hear him more clearly.

“I never meant to do anything for you to think I would hurt you,” Tyler returned. “Can we go back?”

You shook your head. “No going back, only forward. I just wanna go forward with you.”

Tyler grinned, cupped your face with one hand, and kissed you. The fans went even more wild; you couldn’t help but giggle. After a few more kisses, Tyler pulled back to look at you again.

“Obviously, I need to finish this show, but will you wait for me?”

You nodded before hopping down from the stage. Ava put an arm around your shoulders and squeezed. Your heart was racing from the events of the evening, but that didn’t stop you from dancing along to every song for the rest of the show.

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cancerianprincess · 5 years

Text

“Birkin Bag” (7)

|Part Six|

Summary: Erik finds out he might’ve rubbed off on his best friend a tad too much and that she’s really with the shits

Warning: Language, Angst, Blood Mention(s), Violence

A/N: This shit gets a little gory at the end so *BEWARE*

~~~~

“I bought my bitch a Birkin Bag so she could hold my fucking strap..”

____

Even from the entryway, you could see Trey’s body begin to tremble at the sound of your voice. Stepping into what was now your evil lair, you signaled for Erik to follow, silently mouthing for him to follow your lead as the plan was set into motion.

“What up, pussy! Miss me?” You twisted your hips going further into the room as your voiced gradually darkened, “Or at least pretend to? Because, you know, that’s what you seem to do best, apparently.”

His eyes practically gouged out of his head, speaking a mix of fury and panic that his gagged mouth currently couldn’t. Still though, Trey loudly muffled out something incoherent through the white rag against his lips. “Mmphmfm!”

“What?” You snatched the cloth away from his mouth. “Don’t nobody know what you saying, speak English.”

“-AID LET ME GO, YOU STUPID ASS BITCH ‘FORE I K-”

But the empty threat was cut short when your left backhand thwacked across the side of Trey’s face.

“Wrong answer, bitch.” You immediately tied the bandana back around while Erik blatantly snickered under his breath in the background. Peering deviously over your shoulder at the source of the laughter you asked, “Oh you think that’s funny? You shoulda been here for the beat down me, Rodney, and Ray Ray gave this nigga. Ain’t that right?”

Trey did nothing but blink at you furiously, beads of sweat making his forehead glisten.

“I mean, then again, it was only fair. What, with all the trouble you put me and my friend Mr. Stevens over here through.” At this point you had begun circling around your victim like a vulture painstakingly slow. “But seeing as to how you made me spend weeks searching for yo’ ass, some of those injuries were thrown in as...compound interest.”

And plenty of contusions there were. It was only right you gave back every scrape, cut, and bruise that horrible trio had given to Erik when they had him tied up here a month ago. The swollen eye, busted lip, and endless trails of blood falling from various places were evident of that.

“You didn’t make it easy for me, though, Stokely, I’ll give you that.” The false praise fell from your lips in a chuckle, half sarcastic, half genuine.

“Wait,” Erik interjected, being pulled from the trance of watching you playing with your food. “Stokely...why does that name sound so familiar?”

The wicked grin that’d been playing at your lips, per waving one of your knives dangerously close to your captive’s face, officially broke free at the ex mercenary’s speculation.

“Probably because it’s the name attached to the warehouse where this urchin and his cronies held you, i.e. the one we’re currently standing in.”

Erik nodded in acknowledgement, but his furrowed brow gave away that wasn’t the lightbulb he was looking for.

“Or maybe because it was part of the signature on the baby’s death certificate, when it supposedly should’ve been ‘Stevens’.”

Ah, there it was.

“Come again?” Though Erik had managed to keep his relatively cool demeanor, it was still evident that the piece of news had thrown him for a loop. He continued blinking repeatedly at you as if it would change what he heard. “What do you mean ‘supposedly’?”

“You were right about Lynda being pregnant when you shot her; the ultrasound they showed you was proof of that,” you remarked. “But that didn’t necessarily mean she was carrying your baby. Isn’t that right, Trey?” Both Erik and Trey’s head perked up simultaneously, and when the latter began shaking like a stripper, Erik’s wild eyes bore straight into him while speaking directly to you. “Go on.”

You knew the royal to be no dummy, at least when it mattered that is, but you could also tell he wanted to be sure of what you were getting at as well.

“It seems as though Lynda was trying to have her cake and eat it, too. She wanted herself a piece of the legendary ‘Erik Stevens’ just like every other girl at MIT, but once she got it, she just couldn’t seem to let go of her high school sweetheart over there.”

“So what you’re saying is that-”

“Trey was really the one who got the girl pregnant and not you?” You picked up the rest of his sentence, sparing him of having to finish it. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Why else do you think Little Miss Lynda was holding out on you all that time and then magically wanted to jump your bones? She wasn’t about miss out on securing that bag for her family,” you disclosed, whipping your gaze back to Trey trembling in his chair. You were confused when his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Until you felt Erik remove the pistol from your hand while breezing past you.

“Erik, wait, I wasn’t done ex-”

“Hold that thought.”

The former shell of Killmonger marched straight up to Trey and planted a bullet right in his left kneecap, forcing the loudest stifled shriek in all existence to sound through the room.

“That’s for making me think I murdered my unborn child.”

The combination of his act and words sent a tremble down your own spine, regardless of you both being on the same team, but it also put a twinkle of admiration in your eye, and strangely a spark of desire below your stomach. Luckily, Erik had only discovered one of the two as he went back to address you.

“What? Auntie said no more ‘murderous rampages’ so better to put a bullet there than through his brain,” Erik shrugged, followed by a right hook to Trey’s jaw to shut him up. “Now,” he breathed, dimple chasing the dark aura away quickly as it’d come. “You were saying?”

“I was saying,” you deadpanned, pinching the bridge of your nose at his block-headed ass. “That my head was spinning a million miles a minute after all the shit went down that night, so I started breaking it all down, play by play. And that’s when it hit me.”

Erik only blinked in anticipation.

“Remember everything I told you on the drive over? And what Tracee said about Trey not really ‘loving me’? Well she was right.”

Trey’s cries cut through the room, once again, just as fast as your knife landed deep in his bicep.

“Not that I wanted that weak ass shit from you anyway,” you spit, squinting at him in fury. You wanted to do much more than that, but your best friend’s pulled you back into focus.

“Relax, baby girl,” Erik cooed, sensing the flare of your bloodlust. “I’m still in need of some clarification here.”

You inhaled a deep breath upon realizing that he was right. Killing Trey could wait just a few more moments so you dove back in, picking up where you left off.

“Right. It made sense as to why Tracee and Jay wanted revenge against you; they were Lynda’s older sister and best friend. But recalling Tracee’s little slip up, it was only a matter of time before I put two and two together about those conniving little love birds. Though I don’t really think that’s my secret to tell, now is it?”

Creeping back over to the prisoner, you twisted the blade buried in his muscle while stooping to stare him in the eye.

“You listen here and listen good,” you threatened Trey. “It’s already been decided that you’re definitely not going to leave out of this room alive so unless you want to make dying any more pain than I planned for it to be, I suggest the words spoken in your final hour be nothing but the truth. Got me?”

You snatched the cloth from his mouth a second time once the groans of pain subsided, but kept your grip on the weapon in case the memo hadn’t been fully received.

“Alright, fine,” Trey panted out at last. “Lynda was my ol’ lady, so what?! Had been since we was fourteen. We grew up together-all of us did. Me, her, Tee, and Jay; couldn’t nobody come between us. Until yo pretty boy ass decided you just couldn’t stay away from my girl.”

“Aye, ain’t my fault she wanted to upgrade,” Erik bit back. “She came onto me.”

“Yeah, but the grass ain’t always greener, is it?. Sure she was feeling you for a quick lil’ minute, but ‘breaks’ don’t always mean ‘break-ups’.”

A grimey smirk formed at Trey’s mouth, beginning to feel himself courtesy of the sense of pride budding in his chest. “Me and her was going at it cause all she wanted to do was be on her Tomb Raider shit, but it wasn’t long before she was back to calling me ‘Daddy’-AGHHH!”

His spiel was interrupted by the curve of your wrist, bringing about more pain and blood from the wound.

“I don’t think I said anything about adding your irrelevant and grotesque commentary,” you sneered from behind him. “Keep going, and be sure to stick to script, please and thanks.”

Trey scowled and sighed in frustration, but did as he was told and continued telling on himself.

“It had been some months since me and Lynn had spoken since that particular falling out, so I suppose that’s when she starting kicking in with you in the meantime,” Trey concluded, the disgust evident in his voice. “But then I hit her up one weekend, told her I was coming that way to work shit out and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. We talked about a lot that night, and needless to say some shit went down when we met up.”

With every new piece of information Trey dished out, you stole a glance at your homeboy to see how he was processing it all. He was simply shaking his head and casting an ironic grin that flashed his gold fronts. “Breezy always said these hoes ain’t loyal,” he recited, quoting the well known R&B hit.

“Anyway,” the deviant mocha man went on, rolling his eyes. “Lynda and I kept in touch on the low after that, but a few weeks later she sent me a text saying she was positive she was pregnant. At first she was panicking, worrying about your reaction and how it might throw a wrench in the scheme y’all had going with that Klaue dude, especially y’all hadn’t slept together yet.”

“And lemme guess,” Erik cut it. “That’s when you told her to try and start hopping all on my dick?”

Trey clapped back harshly, trying to establish his dominance for whatever reason. “You damn skippy I did! She told me about your master plan for heading to Wakanda, so I told her to stick it out, act like everything was still normal. The second you took over she was gonna tell you about the pregnancy; play the whole ‘heir to the throne’ card. Wasn’t no point in missing out all the wealth one measly little job had to offer.”

It was your turn to finally speak up now. “Yeah, and how well did that work out for y’all Jokey and Harley wannabe headasses?”

Obviously Trey didn’t take a liking whatsoever to your taunting, so he began to go off when you rounded out to face him again. “REAL FUCKING WELL UNTIL YOUR BITCH ASS BOYFRIEND PUT A BULLET IN MY GIRL’S CHEST!!! Me and Lynn coulda had it all made, but HE took it away when he murdered her. So when that king announced the start of all their outreach shit with him overseeing it all,” his voice growing colder, tears in the brim of his eyes, “I knew that was my chance. It took months of plotting, and waiting, but once Stevens was back in town, it was only a matter of time till he learned who I was.”

The hurt that was apparent in his face almost made you feel sorry for him. Though you didn’t find his actions anywhere near justifiable, this was the first time you realized how big of a loss it was for him to lose the love of his life, and child, so tragically.

“And now that Lynda’s gone, and this whole thing caved in on your head, you don’t have anything left to show for it. Do you?”

Trey drew in a sharp breath attempting to draw back the water beading in his eyes, erasing the agony that had threatened to break free. “Maybe not,” he begun maniacally. “But at least I got to dig in them guts for a while to keep you away from golden boy over there, hm sweet cheeks?”

“Excuse you??”

When those words hit your ears, you felt that familiar snap pop off somewhere deep inside your psyche. How dare this nigga have the audacity to even utter something so ignorant and crude, like you needed a reminder that you’d given him access to such a vulnerable part of yourself. Not knowing if it hit a nerve because you dared to sympathize for him a few seconds ago, or because it was brought to your attention yet again how stupid you felt for being used, it had been the final nail in Trey’s coffin either way.

Erik had been silently watching the exchange all the while, and though highly tempted to yank all of Trey’s teeth out due to the disrespectful comment, he could see he had to reign you in quick, fast, and in a hurry.

“Aniya-”

“Nah, E,” you declared chillingly calm, smiling as your tongue ran along the space between teeth and gums. “It’s all good.”

Your fingers flexed tightly around the grip of your gun, and with one lighting fast motion, you were knocking directly into the middle of Trey’s face before any of you really knew it.

“BECAUSE THAT’S FOR THE RUDE ASS SHIT THAT JUST CAME OUT YOUR MOUTH!”

“THAT’S FOR USING ME AND MAKING ME LOOK DUMB!”

“THIS ONE WAS FOR PIMPING OUT YOUR OWN GIRLFRIEND LIKE SHE WASN’T WORTH A DAMN!

“THAT ONE WAS FOR PLOTTING AGAINST MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND!”

“AND THAT WAS FOR TRYING TO TAKE HIM AWAY FOR ME AFTER I ALMOST LOST HIM ONCE ALREADY!”

The hits just came rolling in, one after another and another, driven by all the rage and pent up emotion you had been harboring for entirely too long. Truth be told if it wasn’t for Erik overpowering the now bloody weapon from your hand, you probably would’ve kept at it until who knows when. Fortunately though, he restrained you from behind, stopping you in the midst of your last swing.

“Hey-look, hey, shh. I gotchu now, hey, it’s all good, I’m here.” He steadily swayed the two of you back and forth until he felt you drift somewhat back to reality. It took a minute, your eyes glued Trey’s now disfigured, and lifeless, head that was bashed in and bludgeoned in all sorts of places. You took a moment or two more to calm yourself, feeling the warmth of fresh blood splattered across your face and clothes.

Erik let go once he felt you beginning to uncurl from underneath him. He knew for a fact that you didn’t mind getting your hands dirty, but still awaited your next direction, aware you were still reeling from the deed you’d just committed. Back erect once more and shoulders squared evenly, you instructed your sidekick of the next move without turning around one inch.

“Help me get him and the rest of this junk down to the basement,” you enunciated with a robotic like tone. “There’s an incinerator we passed on the way in.”

~~~~

~Taglist~

@iamrheaspeaks @princesskillmonger @chaneajoyyy @eriknutinthispoosy @wheredidallthedreamersgo @sonofnjobu @bidibidibombaclaat @turn-thy-paige @theunsweetenedtruth @madamslayyy @mareethequeen @marvelpotterlove @ayellepea @another-imaginesblog @okoyesbabe @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @muse-of-mbaku @purple-apricots @tiava143 @youreadthatright @erikslulbaby @eriks-girl @youwishiwasyobabymama @halcyonscry @wakandas-vibranium @wakandanblogger @wakandamama @laketaj24 @bartierbakarimobisson @killmoncoochie @amethyst1993 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @dramaqueenamby @hoopshoney @pocmarvelworks @uhlxis @killmongersaidheyauntie @fonville-designs

#cancerianprincess #birkin bag #erik x aniya #erik x black oc #erik x black reader #u guessed it #redeemed!erik #black panther imagines #erik killmonger

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gingerstorm101 · 5 years

Text

A Little Too Late Chapter 4

Summary: Years after the death of Ziva, a case comes up where Tony finds out that she’s keeping a secret from him.

AOL

“What?”

Behind the glass, the younger agents rock on their feet. The Probie had a few things still to learn if he wants to be a good agent. Tony watches from the observation room as McGee pulls out the picture of a gun.

"This is the model of gun used to kill Sergeant Morgan," McGee says, his arms folding together. "We have the technology to match it to yours." David stares down at the photo; Tony can barely see the man's jugular bobbing from behind the glass.

Abby walks into the observation room, bouncy as ever, even though she's just as old as Tony is himself. But unlike him, she doesn't show it, nor has ever acted it. "We need his gun," Abby states, her expression serious. "We can't just pull BS from our asses."

Tony smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. “It isn’t BS Abby,” He pauses dramatically in which he gathers his thoughts. “We gave him a hypothetical situation in which he can go to jail for.”

Beside him, Josh leans over to Sandra and whispers, “It sounded like BS to me.” In which Sandra nods along. Tony glares at the two younger agents; the two straighten their backs and shut their mouths.

“Get a judge on the phone; we need a warrant to search his place.”

***

The warrant came in an hour later and Tony mentally prepared himself for spending the rest of the day at David’s home. He doesn’t know what to expect when he gets there, but he knows one thing for certain. He would catch this killer. He always did.

But there was something distracting himself. He wasn't on his game. The feeling he has in the pit of his stomach every time I think about her. The last 24 hours all he thought about is her. Her curly brown locks descending past her shoulders, her olive skin tone that shines in the light, her round face and pinchable cheeks; well, if his grandmother had an opinion on it. And lastly, her light green eyes.

His green eyes.

It still frazzles him he has a daughter out there, somewhere. If he wasn't in the middle of a murder investigation, he would use every possible lead he could get to hunt her down. Tell her who he was. But not yet.

Besides, he has no idea what the people who kidnapped her has planned for her. Part of him even thinks the kidnappers could be the reason behind the murder. But there is no evidence. Only to this David guy. The ex-best friend who killed because he was sleeping with his sister.

Distracted by his musings, he nearly skips over the black safe stashed away in the man's underwear drawer. Pulling it out with his gloved hands, he calls to his team. "Got it!" It doesn't take long for Tony to hear the footsteps of his team coming up the stairs. "Huh," He says out loud, "This wasn't properly locked."

His team gathered around him as he opens the metal box, inside he finds a few scattered bullets. “It’s empty!” O’Riley gasps, his eyes not leaving the container.

“Search the property,” Tony commands. “Search the area. Find that gun.”

McGee calls in a team of agents to help search the property. It isn’t that big, but it took the team a few hours to search the house on top of the hours it took to find the safe box. By the time the sun was setting, the search moved to the outdoors with the extra agents.

They scan the ground over with metal detectors in the front and backyard as the sun began to set. Sandra calls O'Riley over to where she was at the side of the house. He, on the other hand, was searching behind the pile of wood that the suspect keeps at the back of his house. From there he can overhear their conversation.

“I need you to go through this.”

“I am not going through that garbage.”

“Except you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“There might be evidence in there.”

“Then you go get it.”

“I’m not the probationary agent, O’Riley.”

"What? You're just going to pull rank on me?" He doesn't hear her reply, but he suspects the woman is smirking at the young man before the click clicks click of her heels echo and fade away. "Nice, real nice. I thought we were supposed to be FRIENDS, Sandra!" The boy shouts, rustling through the garbage can.

He chuckles to himself. The situation reminds him of many years ago when Ziva was a wee probie. Or even when McGee was a probie. He always did it to them, pulling rank that is. And it's only because when it was just the two of them, Gibbs had him dig through the trash.

He was about to walk around to the front of the house to continue his search along with the rest of the agents. He speaks to one of the agents in the front yard, taking in the information of where the agents have been sent so far to look. And yet nothing has shown up.

“Boss!”

Spinning on his heels, he marches towards the side of the house, meeting McGee at the garbage bins where O’Riley was holding a bag open. Both of the men look inside, finding a silver handgun. McGee holds up his camera to take a picture.

The revolver.

And with that, the last of the sunlight finally set.

***

He waits around in the lab while Abby is in the back room. It no longer bothers him to listen to the shooting inside the building, as usually, he isn't in the room when she's gathering bullet examples from weapons. He took years to become immune to the sound. His boss was the one usually in the room when she did it.

He glances over at a clear case that had the yellow envelope with his name on it. It was the same envelope from a couple of nights ago. It's only been two days since he found out about Tali? He looks inside the box, noticing a photo of the farmhouse fire from eight years before, and haze coming from inside, he wants to touch it, but he knows better than to. Written on the picture in red marker was ‘WHY?' and the headline to the newscast saying: ‘A woman is dead in a house fire'.

“Abs, wha-?”

"Is that? I'm trying to kill off any DNA that could have hidden in the powder I found on the inside. We don't need another plague incident." Abby says, walking in the room with a sample in her hand.

“Was it the plague?”

“Yahuh! I don’t know where your little girl could have gotten it from, but those people with her are dangerous, Tony! But instead of it being the Pneumonic Plague, it’s Bubonic, it can cause both Septicaemia and Pneumonic if left untreated. There was a moisture strip left on the back of the picture that was in the envelope. We are not infecting you again.” Abby commands, poking her finger into his chest before setting up the bullet to be examined.

A small smile mares his lips as he steps up to his longest friend, when she turns around, he pulls her in for a hug. “And I thank you for that.” He holds her close for a moment, needing the contact after everything he’s been through for the past few days. “Now, tell me this gun matches the murder weapon.”

"Yes, sir!" Typing quickly on her keyboard, Abby pulls up her sample and her evidence. It only takes a moment to adjust the slugs. Lining the two up, Tony has his answer. "We got our murder weapon!"

“Our suspect killed our Sergeant.”

***

After making a quick phone call to McGee, he meets the man in the interrogation hallway.

“What do you got, Boss?” Tony tosses the evidence container in the air for McGee to catch. He walks into observation as his senior field agent enters interrogation. Without missing a beat, slams the jar down on the table. “Explain this!” He shouts.

“I-I-I don’t know what this is.” The man panics.

McGee circles him, questioning him. “How do you not know? It’s your gun!” He pushes. Tony could tell the sign of McGee getting impatient. “This is the bullet we extracted from your friend.”

"What?" David questions, Tony could have taken it as the truth coming from him if the evidence didn't point to him. "But how? I haven't even touched my gun in months!"

"David David, you're under arrest for the murder of Stephen Morgan," McGee says, standing the man up to cuff his hands behind his back.

“But I didn’t do it! Someone framed me!”

#that show i shall not name #tiva #ish #fanfiction #my writing #tony dinozzo #tali dinozzo #tim mcgee #case fic #original characters

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be-dazzled · 6 years

Photo

SHE’S IN YOUR COURT Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FFnet link: click here #SIYC, #Gruvia

Summary: Gray Fullbuster is a player both in love and in life. He plays Professional Basketball and is being groomed to be in line with Basketball Legends Michael Jordan, Lebron James, Kobe Bryant and Stephen Curry. There’s just one problem, Gray Fullbuster is a play-ah. His life is a giant mess of crazy parties, waking up with random women and waking up in random women’s apartments. Just living the life.

The opinion of the public on him is waning. To save the million-dollar endorsements in the verge of disappearing, Gray needs to change his image. Therefore, Gray Fullbuster, Fiore Knight’s Team Captain and Most Valuable Player, will be in the next season of “My Star Can Dance”.

There’s another problem: it seems like his star isn’t that bright since his partner, one of Fiore’s prominent ballerinas, doesn’t know him? His billboard is hanging in front of her dancing school! And it was a good billboard since all he was wearing was his six-pack and an Aztec bandana. How come she didn’t notice?

Writer’s Corner: I prefer you guys read at fanfiction.net because it’s easier to read and much more organized. I’m an idiot on tumblr. Don’t know how to use it. lol. Anyways, leave comments loves. Gruvia for life!

Oh my love, love is beginning We have found something worth living for I've got my head in the clouds Oh my love, love is beginning now

“There’s less than two minutes in the clock.”

“Will he make it?”

“The ball is in their court, George. He just needs to make this count.”

Two round voices filtered through the loudspeakers. Their commentaries came after another.

The tension was so thick that the raven-haired boy at the center of the Crocus Arena could taste it. Bullets of sweat dropped on the floor. Stubborn black bangs clung to his forehead. Gray Fullbuster’s heart drummed along the sound of the ball hitting the floor. He caught his breath looking for an opening. His eyes darted to the number on the score-board: 72-68. His team was on the lead but he wanted, no, needed to put a difference between the scores.

Gray kept a low stance; his trained feet, along with his body, rocked back and forth as he bounced the ball with good and precise control. He faked a step to the left only to change direction but two tall fellows quickly blocked him.

“You guys like me that much, huh?”

The two have been following him since the beginning of the game. They made it their mission not to allow the Captain near the ring.

“Sorry but this is not the threesome I was looking for.”

He patted himself internally; proud at the witty quip he threw at his guards. He congratulated himself then when he saw their faces twitched in anger.

Early on his career, when Gray was still a rookie, he has learned the magic of trash talk.

However, he had to admit, the two tall guards were hard to shake off. He was struggling but he wasn’t going to show it. Not to Overly Attached Ex-Girlfriend No. 1 and No. 2.

Before the Fiore Knights became a big name in basketball, they were just pretty faces fresh from High School. The first championship Gray’s team bagged was when he was just a rookie. His last minute three-point shot won them the most coveted Earthland Cup of 20X1. From then on, Gray became the “Last Minute Miracle Worker”; pulling off three pointers in under a minute. Now, he was Team Captain.

Player No. 23 tried to steal the ball from the Captain but the latter had the reflexes of a cat; he successfully evaded the steal.

“Whoa, slow down Sharon.”

“Let go of the ball, Dufus. They’re not your testicles.”

Gray had to admit, that was a little funny but he wasn’t going to laugh.

Gray glimpsed at the giant scoreboard and eyed the giant numbers that kept decreasing. The clock was ticking and the ball was still in his hands. He needed to make a move or they would be penalized. The side that kept cheering ‘defense’ became louder and wilder. Maybe because he realized that the Team Captain was struggling. However, the two seasons MVP ignored them. He only had one thing in mind: Win.

Come to think of it, he had nothing to lose. Fiore Knights was on the lead and even if the Alvarez Spriggans managed to steal the ball they couldn’t catch up with Gray’s team. Best they could was reduce the score difference. But then again the Captain had to keep up appearances. He was, after all, the Most Valuable Player for two seasons in a row. He wanted to make this his third.

Gray calculated his options. He was too far from the ring to make a shot. If he pushed forward, two jackasses just wouldn’t leave his side. The side of the bleachers that wore red and gold was egging him on; the other side kept chanting defense. He drowned those voices so he could focus on his own. Natsu. He looked around to search for the spiky pink hair and found him blocking a player as tall as him.

As Team Captain, Gray was trained to make split-second decisions and to trust and rely on his teammates. Gray eyed his Point Guard, his dark blue eyes conversing with the latter’s black ones. Taking the hint, Natsu left his post and the Alvarez Shoot Guard guarding him.

Gray then maneuvered the two tall guards blocking him, his physical agility put to test. Constant and religious training never failed him. He managed to push through the Alvarez players. Gray didn’t have second thoughts in grabbing his window of opportunity and quickly made a clean pass. He ran at the side of the court waiting for his next move. All eyes were on the receiver, Gray’s Vice Captain and best friend, Natsu Dragneel.

Natsu pushed forward and ran toward the middle of the court. He abandoned his Captain and aimed towards the center for a basket.

Or so they thought.

Natsu made a turnabout and passed the ball back to his Captain who was left unguarded.

That was the ingenuity of Gray’s plan. Natsu’s position as point guard was common knowledge. Gray was sure that when he passed the ball to Natsu, Fiore Knights’ resident Point Guard, everyone would expect him to attempt the shoot. The Captain banked on that assumption and secretly positioned himself for a basket. His jackass guards were down to one.

Once Natsu passed the ball back to him, Gray wasted no time in attempting and succeeding in making his trademark three-point shot.

And the final buzzer rang.

“That was one hell of a maneuver!” The round voice came out of the speakers.

Gray looked at the score-board: 75-68.

The whole arena bustled in victory. The cheers were almost deafening. Happiness spread over Gray’s chest. Once again, Fiore Knights was bringing home the Earthland Cup.

“This makes this their third year!” informed the voice on the speaker.

Red and gold balloons and paraphernalia rained down the Crocus Arena. The chorus of ‘We Are The Champions’ by the band Queen blasted through the speakers. Gray’s team mates, along with some reporters and photographers rushed to him. His team mates lifted him and the two tallest players, Gajeel and Laxus, carried him on their shoulders toward the center. Fiore Knights chanted his name. Fullbuster. Fullbuster. The audience joined in.

Gray Fullbuster indulged himself in the victory. Amidst the chaos, he never forgot to thank the Boss in heaven and his good ol’ man. He offered each game to his late father – Silver Fullbuster.

A young blonde holding a microphone walked near the celebrating circle. Gray recognized her from the Earthland Sports channel. He saw her talking to their team manager; an equally attractive feisty woman. The blonde reporter whispered something to Briar. Then after, the latter motioned the team to put the Captain down.

As soon as the attractive reporter stood next to him holding the microphone close to her lips, Gray Fullbuster immediately put on his best smile. He knew that part of the program well and he excelled in giving interviews.

“That was quite a maneuver, Fullbuster. You got everyone fooled. And now you’re on your third winning streak. How do you do it?”

Gray was never one to share his tactics and strategies for two reasons. One, he developed them during the game as it progressed. There was no formula. Two, he was not crazy enough to reveal business secrets. So, as rehearsed, he answered an interview deflecting the real issue.

“It’s always been a team effort. The management put together a legendary team. Everyone put in their time for training and did everything they could to bring the Cup to Fiore. Couldn’t have dreamt of a better team and better colleagues.”

There was no one secret to their success. It was a combination of many things: trust, respect, sharing one goal and solid brotherhood. That was why it was easy for Gray to give instructions without really saying them. They conversed with their eyes. Trained like there was no tomorrow. And above all, reaped together what they have sown. There was no ‘I’ in team, Gray would usually say.

“I’m just thankful for being here with these full-grown babies.”

The joke earned a laugh from the team and the audience.

The blonde reporter asked series of questions to which Gray answered with confidence. He never forgot to thank his team, his coach, the team’s manager and all the people involved. He always said the right words. Even laughed at a few jokes and made a few of his own. Gray Fullbuster was the darling of the press; charming audiences all over Earthland and beyond borders.

Lucy listened to the intercom in her ears telling her to wrap up the interview.

“I know you guys are excited to celebrate so I won’t keep you any longer. But before we end, do you have anything to say to your loyal fans?”

Gray almost lost his hearing. He opened his mouth and closed it again until the deafening screams died down. He didn’t mind. They were music to his ears. He even returned the ‘I love you’ coming from the audience.

“Me and the boys, we all want to thank everyone who supported Fiore Knights since Day 1.” He sounded spontaneous and genuine because this time the answer was not rehearsed. “We promise to continue doing our best. So you guys hang in there because in the next season Fiore Knights will still be on top.”

The arena erupted in louder celebration. It was as if Gray just won the Ms. Universe with a captivating answer.

Lucy Heartfilia gave her closing before she said goodnight to the viewers of Earthland Sports. If she wasn’t aware of Gray’s reputation, Lucy would have easily fallen for that devilish wink.

Gray Fullbuster’s headache thumped along the sound of the door bell. He rolled to the side praying that he was just dreaming about the awful dingdong. But it just wouldn’t stop.

Gray cursed and winced when the light from the window hit his eyes once he cracked them open. He shielded his midnight eyes with his arm; regretting his decision to install a floor-to-ceiling glass window. At night it afforded him the view of the breath-taking City of Magnolia with its bright city lights dancing before his eyes. In the morning, the endlessness of the blue sky relaxed him. Not today when he was nursing a merciless hangover.

Gray propped himself up, fighting a splitting headache. This, he thought, was one of the worst hangovers of his life. When his palm touched his mattress though, he felt warm skin instead of the soft material that usually greeted him. His face shifted to confirm his suspicion. Long blonde hair spread over his expensive pillow.

Gray forgot about his headache for a second. His mind wondered how soft her skin was. He stopped himself from tracing a line on the woman’s back. Gray could only stare. The stranger’s bare figure brought some memories of last night, bits and pieces until they slowly come in full.

He had fun.

A sudden stir pulled him back to reality. He heard a low moan. Judging from it, the stranger in his bed was probably dreaming of him too and the things they have done the night before. Looking closely, however, it seemed like the sound was not coming from the woman in front of him. Gray carefully shifted to the right, not wanting to wake her up, only to see another figure lying on his bed: bare and beautiful. His lips curved into a smirk. Gray Fullbuster was pleased with himself.

He had double the fun.

Just thinking about it sent his blood down one area. He was going to oblige himself if not for the persistent ringing of the doorbell.

His head throbbed in pain again. Albeit his body and head protesting, Gray dragged himself out of his bed, out of the comfortable in-between of two heavenly bodies. He was going to beat the hell out of anyone behind that door. Gray got out careful enough not to wake the women sleeping soundly.

He put on his robe, his eyes half closed. He cursed under his breath when he couldn’t tie his robe right. Stupid belt.

He clumsily moved across the hall, bumping into everything he could, and shuffled towards the main door. The impatient ringing caused sharp pains in his head. That was the thing with hangovers; they made sounds a thousand times louder.

Gray jumped when the technical sound of error blasted out of his security machine.

“Dammit.”

Gray rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. He waited for a second for that tightness between his brows subside. Then, he squinted at the monitor like an old man and entered his passcode with force that almost broke through the keypad.

When Gray heard the low click sound, he opened the door to meet the same midnight eyes as his glaring. The judgmental look seemed permanent.

The woman walked past him and invited herself in.

“Mother, please come in.” greeted Gray sarcastically before he locked the door behind him.

Gray watched his mother look around and size up his new apartment. He was quite sure she was judging every nook and cranny of that place. Nothing was ever good for Mika Mine.

The woman with the long black hair dropped some papers on top of Gray’s new coffee table.

“You need to get your act together, Fullbuster.”

Those were the first words his mother spoke. Wow, not even a good morning, he thought.

“Good morning to you too, mother.”

Gray seated himself on the sofa. It was too early in the morning to deal with an unhappy Mika Mine. Whatever reason there was for Mika to drop by this early, on a Sunday of all days, in his place, Gray sure it was no good.

News about his gallivanting should have reached her by now. This was their third championship. Of course, the team went painting the town red for a good whole week. Mika was outspoken about her disapproval with that part of Gray’s professional basketball career.

Gray inspected one of the articles on top of his table. It was open on page six; probably the page his mother was reading on the way to his place. He recognized the man who had his hand around the waist of a B-rated starlet. It was him.

His mother began her lecture. Was she a teacher or something? He listened without really hearing Mika. Instead, he continued reading the articles spread across his table. They were news about him and his team marrying the night. Different nights, different women.

“What can I say, mother? Boys will be boys.”

The pain rang in his ears when Mika smacked Gray in the head. He thought he lost his head for a second and later wished he did. This was how getting hit by lightning probably felt, he thought.

Gray waited for the pain and the throbbing to subside. If he was going to be honest, he was holding his tears back a little too. He felt a little nauseous.

“Here. For that hangover.”

He took the glass with some weird green shake in it. It smelled funny.

“Go. Just drink it up.”

Gray followed obediently; covered his nose and took a sip of the funny drink. He made a face when the green shake made contact with his tongue. He immediately dismissed the drink and replaced it on the table on top of the scattered papers. This was why he hated healthy things. They never tasted good. The forbidden fruit tasted the sweetest.

“Powerade called the office today.”

So she’s here for business.

“They are threatening to pull out from your endorsements.”

“Tell them to go to hell.”

“And you’ll go to the streets because this expensive bachelor’s pad you are living in is an advance for that endorsement.”

With the pain hammering his head, all he could hear from his mother was blah blah blah. But he did pick up the words ‘expensive, bachelor’s and pad’. He smiled at himself. It was indeed an expensive bachelor’s haven. His mind flew to the two naked bodies sprawled over his comfortable king-size.

“Did you hear me?”

He didn’t but his mother had only one favorite topic: his unchecked way of life.

“What do you want me to do, mother?”

“I was in a meeting with the President and he is not happy.”

“When is he ever happy?”

He loved to imagine President Wakaba Mine’s nose flared in anger, smoke coming out of his reddened ears. A vein or two probably popped.

“When his star player is not out in the streets living in sin?”

“Mother, I’m young. What do you expect me to do? Lock myself in a monastery?”

“I expect you to get yourself together, Gray. We are losing sponsorships and endorsements because of your youthful activities.”

“Fine. Fine.”

Gray surrendered. He wasn’t in the mood to argue. All he wanted to do was comeback to bed, sleep between the heavenly naked bodies and maybe later, when he recovered from his hangover, do an encore of last night’s youthful activity.

“That’s what I thought you would say. So, the board has decided-“

“-You brought in the board in this?”

“Your father did. And we all agreed it’s the best course of action for now before you and your ‘youth’ drag Fiore Knights’ name down the mud.”

Wakaba Mine was not his father. He was the President.

She slipped him an open folder. The best he could make out with it was the heading ‘My Star Can Dance’.

“They want you to join next season.”

“Are you out of your mind, woman?”

Gray jumped out of his couch in shock. His vision darkened for a moment from the sudden action. When he recovered, he returned to berating his mother.

“I’m not gonna join that circus!”

He was not going to join that crazy reality dance show. Just the thought of Fiore Knights’ Team Captain, the greatest team in all Earthland, dancing like an idiot in front of cameras made him shudder.

“First of all, it’s not a circus. It’s one of the top-rated shows today.”

Gray had a feeling that Mika Mine was a fan. He also had the feeling it was her idea for him to join the show.

“Second of all, millions of people are watching that show. It’s gaining so much popularity nowadays.”

“Ah yes. Because people find the circus very entertaining.” joked Gray dryly.

Mika ignored him.

“And lastly, this is a good way for you to reach out to the masses. For you to gain more popularity, the good kind. It’s time for people to know your good side.”

“Reality shows are scripted, mother. Don’t get fooled.” He rebutted. “And besides, people already know my good side. Everybody loves me.”

“Everybody loves to talk about you and your crazy sex life.”

Touché.

“Besides…” she continued. “You don’t have a say in the matter. This is to compensate the company for all the sponsorships and endorsements lost because of those scandals.”

It was the best way to change and improve his image. Otherwise, he wouldn’t only be losing his endorsements but his entire career as well. Something he did not want to happen.

Basketball was Gray’s life. He lived and breathed basketball since he felt the rubber in his small hands. It was the only thing he was good at. Well, that and making girls scream in and out of the basketball court. But Gray could never imagine himself outside the court. It was the only place he could be his true self. It was the only place he felt connected with his father.

The picture of his father teaching a four-year old Gray how to dribble flashed before his midnight eyes. It was his first memory of him. The last was him lying on the hospital bed.

“Okay, I’ll fix it.”

Gray sat back and started to talk calmly.

“I’ll lessen my partying. I’ll be a good boy. Good ‘ol boy next door. I’ll show up to every charity events you want me to go to.”

Gray stroke a deal. He grabbed all the papers on the table and displayed them in front of his mother.

“These articles, these scandals? Gone.” He threw them away, proving a point. “I’ll fix everything.” He promised.

He looked into Mika’s eyes, appealing to the mother in her. He made a bargain, something he knew would be a struggle to keep the end of, but he would give his best. It was either that or lose his dignity.

Mika thought about it for a moment. She considered his proposal. It was a fair bargain considering how Gray loved to party and celebrate just about anything. Mika was warming up to the idea and looked like she was leaning on agreeing. One little nudge and she would say yes. No one has ever said no to the Captain, after all.

“Good morning, Captain!”

Until now.

One of the women in his bed was now standing behind him. His mother’s face shifted. Her expression was the same as the one she had when she entered his pad. Uh-oh. Not good. Gray turned around to see a beautiful blonde wearing his Ralph Lauren. Just his Ralph Lauren polo and her shiny bed hair.

He would have gotten away with it if not for the other woman coming out of his bedroom. She had the same shiny bed-hair but only wearing his white duvet. Under different circumstances, Gray would have enjoyed the view and appreciated the fact that the two women kind of looked identical.

Gray could just imagine today’s page six story.

He was in double trouble.

Gray cautiously turned around; hoping in all hopes that his mother was not sporting a murderous aura.

She was.

“Just sign the contract.”

One of man’s greatest fantasies has become Gray’s worst nightmare.

“1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3.”

A tall and slender female hit the stick against the railing as she counted in a rhythm. She walked around and observed her young students as they performed the routine she taught them earlier.

The woman’s blue hair was tightly pulled in a bun and she wore tights like second skin. The woman has soft features and tamed look; far from the usual strict and stiff stereotype.

“Bend those knees lower.”

The teacher’s mind flew back when she was their age. Back then she loved wearing her pink tutu and wore it everywhere she went despite her mother’s objections.

“Extend those hands. Yes, like this.”

The lady dropped her stick to the side, extended her left arm with the natural grace of a ballerina and folded it back in a semi-circle. The eager kids followed her example.

The grandfather clock stuck four and the teacher dismissed her young students in pink tutus. She curtsied before them and they did the same like they were greeting a royalty. The young girls bade their farewell. Then, they rushed to their companions waiting at the guardian’s lounge on the other side of the room.

The young dance teacher waved back at the still energetic students of hers who waved her goodbye. Where they got their energy after a whole day of dancing was beyond her. When the room finally cleared, the dance teacher exhaled a satisfied sigh. She massaged the part where the neck and shoulder met. Teaching was exhausting but fulfilling.

“Here you go, Juvia.”

The woman looked a lot like Juvia: long blue hair, average height, porcelain skin and soft and homely features. The years did nothing but ripened her into a classy and elegant woman.

“Thank you, mother.”

Juvia took the fresh towel and unopened Pocari Sweat. She dried her face with the former and quenched her thirst with the latter.

“By the way, someone’s here to see you.”

Juvia’s heart leaped in excitement. The vintage double doors spitted out a young, bandana-waering figure from her past – Levy McGardeen.

“Levy!”

Juvia ran toward her visitor to welcome her. She threw her arms around the slim figure and squeezed her in a tight embrace. Juvia could not explain the excitement she felt to see her best friend from High School.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” said Juvia, her slender arms still hang around Levy’s shoulder.

“I know. Long time no see.” answered Levy.

It was Juvia who let go first. She squeezed her arms and turned the young woman around; looking for any changes the years have done to her. Nothing; which fact she expressly stated.

“You haven’t changed at all. Still short, eh shrimp?”

Juvia’s unexpected but welcomed guest, flustered at the utterance of the nickname she hated in high school. Levy smacked the taller between the two playfully. Both women giggled at the friendly teasing they always did since high school. Nothing much has changed.

“What can I help you with, shrimp?”

Levy glared at Juvia, threatening her to drop the annoying nickname. The latter giggled at the expression her guest made. Levy was so cute, twenty six and still pouting. Juvia then invited her old friend inside the room.

“No pleasantries?” asked Levy.

Juvia had an idea of the real reason McGardeen dropped by her studio. She had called and texted her night and day. For friends who haven’t seen each other for months now it probably wasn’t polite to jump into it right away. Especially that the reason Levy had come down from her busy schedule was to ask a teensy bitsy favor.

“I read your messages. I already said no.”

Juvia read the expression on her friend’s gentle face; a mix of surprise, guilt and embarrassment.

“Well, the last time we saw each other you asked me to join your show again.”

Guilt prevailed. The last time they saw each other was when Levy apologized to Juvia after the latter politely declined the network’s offer for another season as a dance instructor. The one time Juvia agreed to join the show behind the scene was because of Levy. It was a favor she was willing to extend for a friend. When the first season was over, they lost contact again.

Juvia was not the kind that held grudges. She understood completely and she was not mad about the lost contact. The bluenette just wanted to tease her friend a little.

“You know how it is in show business. I’m lucky if I get any sleep at all!” reasoned Levy.

Juvia sighed.

“Levy, you’re a writer. So why are you going around recruiting people to join that show?”

Levy was a talented writer. Juvia believed so much in her. Her best friend was going to be a Magnolia Best Seller and would have book tours just as she was going to have her ballet tours. So, why was the talented writer recruiting her for a dance reality show?

“It’s part of my job. I’m a researcher and a writer.”

“So, I’m guessing you’re here to ask me again? I already said no. Do you know it’s easier to teach kids dancing than adult celebrities?”

Levy knew what she meant. Working with celebrities: big names, big heads, wasn’t only exhausting but also frustrating. Working for them was another level of hell as Juvia put it.

“Yes. But this time it’s different.”

Juvia saw a spark of hope in Levy’s round brown eyes.

Curious, Juvia asked how it was different from the time she almost kicked the hell out of the famous actress who joined the first season of My Star Can Dance.

“This time, you’ll be dancing with them!”

Levy probably thought she could get Juvia excited by announcing it with so much energy and enthusiasm.

How the hell was that better than dancing behind the scene?

She was wrong.

“No way!”

“Please, Juvia.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

Levy followed the blue-head around like a begging puppy. She kept asking but the ballerina just kept saying no.

“I’m begging you, Juvia. They will have my head if I can’t make you say yes.”

“You promised me that was the first and last time I’ll be in that show. Look for someone else, Shrimp.”

If it was an option she would have done it. Levy was thankful for Juvia joining the first season; when no one would have expected for the reality dance show to get renewed for the second, third and now its fourth season.

However, the writer witnessed how the young ballerina held back when all she wanted to do was smack that diva she had to deal with the whole season. She felt guilty putting her best friend through all that. She didn’t want to put her through the same ordeal but Levy had specific instruction.

“They only want you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. All they said was that since we’re friends why don’t I convince you to join the next season and they were staring at me with deadly eyes like if I said no they’ll kill me. On the spot.” Answered Levy in one breath.

The fear rounded Levy’s eyes. They were dark like they have seen things - unspeakable things.

“It wasn’t a request, Juvs.”

Levy moved closer to Juvia and in a hushed voice she spoke, “They’ll kill me.”

Of course, she wasn’t referring to literal death but something much worse, career death. Levy’s bright future would have ended before it even started.

“Please. For a friend. And remember you owe me!”

She was desperate to have the yes so the show writer came in prepared. If the ‘we’re best-friends’ card wouldn’t work, she would move to the next: guilt trip.

“Owe you from what?”

Levy turned away from the bunhead to hide her flustered face. She was a nice person. She wasn’t some scheming little devil who would lie to get her way. But desperate times called for desperate measure.

“You bullied me in High School.”

Juvia’s jaw almost dropped to the floor.

“We were friends! It was a friendly teasing.” reasoned Juvia.

It was such a ridiculous notion that she would intentionally hurt her best-friend’s feelings. But if she was being honest, bunhead was more surprised that good ‘ol Levy, the shrimp who cried when their classmates picked on her, would use such an underhanded way.

“I was hurt.”

Levy feigned offense. She wasn’t only a good writer. Apparently, she was a good actress too.

“Still, no.”

Too bad Juvia could see though her lies. She was her best-friend of ten years.

“What can I do to make you say yes?”

Juvia could see her frustration. She missed that Levy. The one she always teased because she pouted and engaged.

“Nothing. I can refer you to some of my friends. I’m sure they’ll enjoy working with celebrities.”

Levy knew she was losing her case. Knowing Juvia, no one could ever make her do something she didn’t want to do. Not even Mrs. Lockser. But the persistent writer still had one more trick up her sleeve.

“Well, too bad.” She pretended surrender.

“We’re not allowed to say anything but…” Levy didn’t want to breach the non-disclosure clause in her contract but this was her last card.

She could deal with legal ramifications but not with her head-writer who looked like she was ready to devour little Levy.

“Guess who the network signed up as Head Judge for this season.”

Juvia’s heart skipped a beat. There was one name that popped in her head. Only one person deserving.

She glared at the scheming shrimp and gave her that ‘it would be very wrong to kid me now’ look.

If they were talking about the only person who had the credibility, skills, experience and merits to judge the dancing competition, only one name came to mind.

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

Levy watched as the expression on the bunhead’s face changed. The latter’s face brightened. She was highly considering the offer. It was Juvia’s lifelong dream, after all, to meet her hero.

Juvia made all sorts of scenario in her head. She imagined how she should she react when she finally met Fiore’s Prima Ballerina. She thought about what she should wear, how her hair should be, what should she say first. The fangirl in her jumped in happiness.

When a dreamy smile crept up Juvia’s lips, Levy knew she had sealed the deal. Her bandana-wearing head was safe, for now.

“Okay, okay. I’m in!”

She grabbed Juvia’s hand and eternally thanked her for it. The two jumped around, screaming like fangirls, much like how they did in high school when their favorite show was on.

When their excitement died down a little, Juvia asked the show writer, “So, do you know who they paired me up with?”

“Oh, I don’t know yet since they’re all hush-hush about it but I heard this season’s guest stars are gonna be epic.”

“Epic, huh?”

That was one way to put it. Although the bunhead had bad impression of celebrities, it did not sour her mood. The opportunity to meet Aquarius, Fiore’s Prima Ballerina, came only once in a lifetime and it squashed every reservations Juvia had.

Little did she know epic was going to knock on that door and he would be bringing crazy, disaster and frustrating along with him.

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gruvia au #gruvia fanfiction #siyc #she's in your court

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ilosttrackofthings · 6 years

Note

No backsies. for biospecialist, please!

So. There is zero Jemma in this, though she does get discussed. I doubt you’ll mind though.

Hicks holds theoffice door open for Skye and she makes a point of stomping acrossGrant’s office (six months ago it was John’s office; the books onthe shelves are all his favorites with dog eared pages and there aredays just looking at them leaves Grant’s throat tight) beforeflopping into the empty chair in front of his desk.

“If your guarddog keeps looking at my ass,” she says, “I’m gonna kill him.”

Grant just smiles.“Hicks? Back off.”

He hesitates,looking between Grant and Skye. “Sir, Markham said-”

“I know whatMarkham said,” Grant says, letting his amusement sharpen his voice,“I’m telling you to getlost.”

Hickshesitates another second. Grant gets it. He does. His people areloyal and they’re not eager to leave him alone with a woman whojust twenty-four hours ago was firing a gun at them in general and him in particular. But that loyaltyalso means they follow his orders and after a moment’s moreconsideration, Hicks leaves.

“Sohow’s the team?” Grant asks.

“Theyhate you,” Skye says, putting her feet up on the desk.

Nota surprise—the casual move or their hatred. He burned a lot ofbridges with them in the days following the uprising. Not to mentionhe turned down Coulson’s offer to “become a better man” andinstead took up CyberTek’s reigns in John’s memory.

Asfor Skye’s invasion of his desk, she likes pushing the envelope onpropriety during these visits. Payback, he thinks, for all those months he spent runningher ragged with training. She likes to forget he tried to talk her out of it, told her to go the communications route, but noooo, she just had to take May’s bait and go the ops track. Admittedly, he maybe had a little too much fun making her suffer for that bad decision.

“Coulson’sholed up in his office most days—or he’s running all over theworld picking up stray agents.”

“Hego alone?”

She nods. “May runs things while he’s gone.”

If SHIELD’s transportation issued had improved, she would’ve said, that means Coulson’s flying commercial. Grantmakes a mental note to have Repin work something up for airportsurveillance. Coulson’s too good to use his real name but no way hecan avoid every camera in a place like that. Ifthey can get him alone, that could change everything.

“Andhow is May?” he asks, rubbing a hand over his throat. Itstill stings when heeats sometimes.

Skyescowls. “She’s training me. I miss you.”

“I’llbet you do.”

“Butshe’s also got a husband.”

Grantstares. “A what now?”

“Anex,” Skye explains like it should’ve been obvious. “I guessthings ended badly but not so badly he didn’t dropeverything the second she called.”

Interesting. “Whatis he? A specialist?” Grant knew May had an ex when he joined theteam but John was sure the only man who mattered in her life wasCoulson; Grant didn’t even bother cracking the guy’s file.

Skyelooks like she might laugh. “Nope. A shrink. He’s helping Fitz.”

He scoffs. “What does Fitz need a therapist for?”

Nowher expression darkens. “Well there’s the prosthetic leg‘cause some asshole put a bullet in his knee.”

Grantshrugs, unapologetic. “He knew what he was risking. He’s lucky Itook care of it quick before John could recover well enough to orderme to shoot him somewhere more permanent.”

Sherolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, on top of that he’s kinda lost it on account of his best friend was kidnapped by his worst enemy.”

Right.That. He smiles to himself, leaning back a little in his chair. He’seven less sorry for that than he is for the bullet.

“Bythe way, do you have to dothat?” she asks.

“Dowhat?”

She’sunamused by his innocent expression. “Say all that crap abouthurting her. Wouldn’t it hurt them just as bad to know she’s withyou willingly?”

He sighs. He’s gotta admit, some of his insinuations—and hell,forget insinuations, some of the stuff he’s outright said—aboutJemma are pretty foul. He’s not surprised it bugs Skye to hearand if anyone else said the things he does about her, he’d shootthem without hesitation, but is it his fault if the team’s expressions arehilarious?

“Theywant you dead,” Skye says. “Like, seriouslydead. Even the new guy, Hunter? He never met Jemma and he’s come upwith at least fiveplans to murder you slowly.”

“Ithink I can handle it,” Grant says, hiding another smile. Turns outit’s not just the members of his inner circle here on base who areprotective, his favorite spy is too. He’s almost touched.

“You’dbetter because Coulson says he’s got a plan-”

“Yeah,I know.” He slides her copies of the documents left waiting at hisdecoy base this morning. Her boots hit the floor hard and she snatches the file up. He can practically read he words on herexpression as she flips through.

The long and short of it is Coulsonwants Jemma back. Bad enough he’s willing to deal. Thatraid yesterday? Coulson’s offering Grant half the haul that SHIELDkept out of his reach. It’s the lamehalf—no weapons and everything alien in it is worthless—but it’sstill a big concession for one agent.

It’salso pretty definitely a trap.

“No!”Skye yells, slamming the file down and leaping to her feet. “Nobacksies, Grant Ward! You are nottrading Jemma back to SHIELD!”

Shelooms over him, fire in her eyes, the promise of violence in everyinch of her.

It’s kinda adorable.

“Stoplaughing!” she demands. “I mean it! I will kill you sodead!”

Hebraces himself on his desk, pulling himself back together. “No,it’s fine.” That’s mostly for Hicks, who’s reappeared in thedoorway. To Skye he says, “I’m not trading Jemma to anyone,least of all SHIELD.”

“Good!”Skye sits on the edge of her seat, back ram-rod straight while shelooks down her nose at him. “I spent monthsturning her for you-”

“Idid some work too, you know.” He is the one who got her to fall forhim back on the Bus.

“Yeah,and who’s the one who played her just rightafter you went and fucked up your cover so she’d feel sympathetic?While you were off building up Hydra and sowing chaos and kickingpuppies, I was the one making sure Jemma remembered how much sheloved you. She may have left SHIELDfor you, but I’m theone who showed her the door.”

“AndI appreciate that,” Grant says. More than words can say. He’sconfident he would have eventually won Jemma back over on his own,but the sacrifice Skye made maintaining her own cover after theuprising put Jemma back in his arms that much sooner. He owes her alot. It’s with that in mind he asks, “You wanna see her?”

Hopewipes all that bright anger away, but it’s quickly replaced by her usualmask. “No. I can’t come back yet and you know she won’t take it well-”

Jemmadoesn’t know about Skye’s manipulations because she has no ideashe’s a double agent. It was Skye’s idea to hold off on tellingher until she was made, pretend she just followed Jemma and notthat she’s always been a member of Centipede.Personally Grant thinks that’s a shit plan, sure to blow up in herface down the road, but he does owe her – enough he’s willing tostay out of their relationship if that’s what Skye wants.

“Isaid see her,” hesays gently. “She’ll never know you’re there.” Jemma’s labhas a false window on the east wall; Skye can watch her from thereand no one will be the wiser.

Skyehesitates another second but her expression says her answer beforeshe does. She’s missed Jemma and this is too good a possibility topass up.

“Yeah,”she says softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

AsGrant rounds the desk to join her—no reason he can’t look in onJemma too; maybe he’ll even steal her away from her work after—heasks, “How’s that looking? SHIELD still in the dark?”

Skyegives him a judgmental look. “The rest of Hydra might have beencaught with their pants down but there was never any way the RisingTide was gonna get exposed by a hack. Nothing showing any connectionto us was even in that data dump.”

“Good.”He holds the door open for her and gives Hicks a keep yourdistance look before he can fallinto step too closely behind them. “I’dhate to lose my favorite asset.”

“Yes,you would,” Skye agrees, marching on ahead like she’sthe one in charge.

Grantjust holds back a chuckle and follows. Despite how useful she is inSHIELD, he hopes she comes back permanently sooner rather than later.He misses her. And he knows it’ll make all the difference in theworld to Jemma to have her here.

#biospecialist #my fic #*td #ask fic #biospec fic #shineyma

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fanfic-scribbles · 6 years

Text

On the Run: Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: “Awkward Spaces” or “Gonna Keep Movin’�� (or “Sam Wilson Is Too Good to Have to Deal with This Shit”)

Masterlist Here

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Avengers; MCU Captain America

Adventure/Romance – James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Violence, language, eventual romance, reader character with sassy/abrasive personality

Chapter Summary: Sam is the most well-adjusted person in his immediate group of friends and that is terrifying.

Special Chapter Warnings: Chapter told in present tense with flashbacks to the past in italics

Words: 3655

A/N: This is a chapter set in the present with parts in the past. Tense shifts are also marked with tildes ~Like so~. Sorry if this chapter is weird; this is the first outside POV that has quite a bit of Reader character in it as well so while it is still 2nd person it’s limited on Sam. Fun, interesting, but kind of hard to juggle. Also adding to the mix, I broke format a little bit (sorry Sam) by slipping into the Reader’s POV at the very end because it’s important. Sort of. Mostly? It’s– eh, you’ll see it when you get there. Please enjoy.

PS: To the anon who asked if we’re getting a POV chapter from a certain someone…I have only very vague plans so I don’t want to overpromise (I don’t post things I don’t like and it might be crap, who knows) but as of right now: yes. It is in the works ;)

Chapter Ten: “Awkward Spaces” or “Gonna Keep Movin’”

Sam has seen some shit in his life. Dealt with some severely uncomfortable circumstances over the years, even before he joined the Avengers, even before he started leading group therapy at the VA, even before he shipped out. He’s been in life or death situations, more than he can count, and he’s talked people off the edge– both figurative and literal. People have always commended him for having a cool head under pressure and knowing what to do even if he doesn’t know what to say.

All of that, however, and he still feels insultingly unprepared to deal with the level of awkwardness that comes from a centenarian assassin’s best friend and maybe-girlfriend fighting through silent treatment. Honestly, he’s been through high school, he should be able to handle this.

“Hey, uh…” Steve starts to say. You glance at him and he stops. You both stop. You all stop. Steve scratches his head, mumbles “never mind,” and starts leading the way again.

And yet.

“I’m going to scout ahead,” Natasha announces. Sam does not whimper, but Natasha throws a merciless smirk at him and disappears into the bowels of the underground shelter. Sam isn’t sure if you or Steve even notice. Well, Steve probably does, but he shows no sign of caring and neither do you; you both just gravitate to opposite sides of the hallway like repulsed magnets. Sam tries to tell himself that this isn’t any more awkward than that one time Clement and Singh had that little fling that made the whole unit–

Except that it totally is. Clement and Singh were professionals and pissed off so at least the tension got let out in arguments and a truly memorable sparring session. You and Steve though, you dance around each other like you’re trying to figure out how to apologize while waiting for the other person to apologize, both, and goddamn if that isn’t making it even worse.

Sam sighs and it’s the loudest noise in the room since Natasha pranced on out of there. It even grabs Steve’s attention. “Anything interesting?” Sam asks like everything is fine and peachy.

Steve frowns and shakes his head. He relaxes a miniscule amount and opens his mouth but his eyes flick to the side, just over Sam’s shoulder, and he clamps it shut again. Sam looks to see you’ve gravitated closer but your attention is on a box you’re poking with your foot. You look up and see Steve. The two of you immediately turn your backs on each other and go in opposite directions.

Sam isn’t sure what he’s done to deserve this but he’s really, really sorry.

~Past~

Sam sits on the couch with a plate of breakfast and eats. Slowly.

On the other end of the couch, James Buchanan Barnes bears the scrutiny of Sam’s sharp gaze. But then, at one point, he squirms. Sam raises both eyebrows but the slight movement might as well have been a trick of the light, for how the ex-assassin stills again. Barnes turns his head and stares ahead at nothing and Sam goes back to his food, keeping his eyes on the other man’s profile.

“I’m sorry I broke your car.”

It’s quiet but Sam hears it. He’s too busy chewing to acknowledge it and he might not even do that even if his mouth wasn’t occupied. Yeah, the car. When Natasha had jumped up front, shoving Steve and Sam away from the bullets aimed at their heads.

“And tore your wings.”

They were good wings; strong, and Barnes had pulled one off like it was paper. Sam sips his juice.

“And kicked you off the helicarrier.”

Where he fell, hurtling through the air and trying to get a hold of himself even as a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind that he deserved this; that this weightless fear was something Riley had to suffer and so should he. But then he had landed and it was so much worse, knowing Steve was up there without backup, and the guilt had piled on when they found him, beat to hell and shot, and Captain America had lain like a man dying. Because he was.

But Steve’s alive, ultimately, because Barnes broke the programming. And as James Barnes sits in Avengers tower, willingly in the middle of the room where he can be approached on all sides, physically holding himself from fidgeting –or running– Sam has to concede he sees nothing of that murderous machine he had braced himself to face. Barnes looks like he’s been eating better, like he showers and cleans up fairly regularly, and his eyes hold a soul to them that would probably hesitate when told simply to kill. He looks human.

Sam settles back against the cushion and sets his plate aside. It’s a start.

~Present~

After some soul searching, Sam has decided that he hasn’t done anything for the universe to have it out for him, but apparently the same cannot be said for Natasha. He’s not sure what he did to her specifically, but he’s fairly certain he doesn’t deserve this.

“Go ahead.”

“No, you go. Take the hot water while it’s there; Natasha used up a lot of it.”

“That’s why you should go first.”

“God; I’m trying to be nice. Why are you so fucking stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn?”

Sam’s eyes roll back into his head and he resists the urge to yell that yes, they both are, and knock it off or so help him God– but he doesn’t, because he knows the kind of reaction that will get and he doesn’t want to deal with your verbal insults or Steve’s ‘how could you do this to me Captain America is sad and disappointed now’ pouting.

So instead he gets up, grabs his towel, and stays long enough in the shower for the water to become lukewarm. Satisfied with his passive-aggressive tactic, he dries off and dresses and comes out to Steve speaking in a low tone. He resolves himself to ignore the both of you until he actually hears you laugh.

“You’re such an asshole,” you say, but you sound delighted.

“Yeah, it was pretty funny,” Steve chuckles.

The hotel room looks the same, yet Sam has to wonder if he has somehow stepped into an alternate universe. He really, really likes this universe and thinks a quick prayer of thanks for the mercy.

“So what did he do?”

“You mean after he did the splits, or during?”

“Both, both!”

“Well, Bucky was pretty well steamed, but I got a lot of good mileage out of that. He– oh, I just remembered this time in France when that came up again…”

Sam lets out a little snort. It figures your bonding point would be over Bucky’s misery. Not that the guy doesn’t deserve it. And even though you and Steve are still on opposite ends of the room, Steve isn’t sitting quite so stiff and you’re laid out on the bed, listening to an old war story that Bucky will probably kill Steve for telling.

It’s progress, Sam thinks, and goes to take Steve’s patrol since he’s otherwise occupied.

~Past~

It’s been a month or so since Bucky’s sudden arrival and things mostly go back to how they have. Pepper is working hard with Phil to make Bucky’s presence not a complete media and legal nightmare so he hangs around, sometimes like a ghost, and sometimes like Steve’s own shadow. Sam has come around to him, if not warmed completely. As relaxed as Sam strives to be, even he finds it hard to warm quickly to someone who tried to kill him and his friends. He’s trying, but Sam sometimes wakes feeling Natasha’s warm blood soaking into his shirt.

Not tonight though. This one is a hundred percent Riley and Sam hasn’t had a dream this bad in a while. He’s done everything he can think of to come down but it hasn’t worked, so he’s in the gym at two in the morning, circling through machines for anything that will wear him down. Steve left on a diplomatic mission the other day, so Sam isn’t surprised when Bucky comes around and starts going to town on the punching bags. Aside from nods of acknowledgement, they don’t interact, going through their own routines but eventually ending up on treadmills near each other.

Sam isn’t opposed to getting to know the guy, just appropriately wary, and they’ve had a few stilted conversations by now. He can do this. “Are you staying up late or getting an early start?”

Bucky snorts and flashes a quick glance at him. “You coming after the honor of being my keeper? Careful; Rogers’ll get jealous.”

There’s no malice in his tone, just a dry humor, and Sam can really get behind that. “I’m just wondering if Steve’ll be getting a date for his morning runs so he’ll finally let me sleep in peace.” If only Sam had known Steve had been literal about the ‘late start’ on that fateful morning run all those months ago.

Bucky gets a crooked smile that must have been the basis for all those stories Steve has for how Bucky was the most eligible bachelor on the block. “If I gave in he’d take that as a victory and just get more annoying.”

“Ah, well can’t have that.”

“Damn right. Better to stay in bed.”

Sam smiles and turns up the speed. “You doing all right with Steve gone?”

But Bucky snorts and answers like it doesn’t bother him none. “Any more mother henning this week and I’d’ve decked him.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

Bucky blinks in surprise and then turns his head, expression changing to become suspicious. Man but that glare is something else. Unperturbed, (Tony and Clint are still alive, so Sam is almost certain Bucky doesn’t kill based on how annoying someone is), Sam raises his hands. “I know you can handle yourself but man, those baby blues are deadly. How you think he gets me out of bed at six on a Saturday?”

Bucky loosens up and looks ahead again. “Nah, it’s fine,” he says, a little more quietly. “Gotta let him work it out of his system.”

Sam isn’t sure Steve’ll ever stop being amazed and awed that Bucky is here with him. And he’s starting to understand that a little more. If Riley showed up one day Sam isn’t sure he’d ever let him out of his sight again. So really, Steve’s been pretty good about this whole deal.

Standing on the machine at a stop, Sam decides he’s not really that tired yet and goes over to the bench and stacks some weights on the bar. He sits down and prepares to lean back when suddenly Bucky is there, standing almost awkwardly nearby. Sam stares at him and waits, and Bucky eventually says, “You…need a spotter?”

Sam eyes the infamous arm and can’t imagine anyone better for the job. Still, Bucky looks like he wants to flee and Sam thought they were over this, so he tries for something different. “That hunk of junk doesn’t malfunction, does it?”

Bucky scowls and holds his arm, but it’s not his Murder Scowl. Score one for Wilson. “Only for people who call it ‘junk.’”

Sam laughs. “Okay, I take it back then. Will you please use that beautiful piece of machinery to keep my head in one piece?”

Bucky lightens up the tightness in his face and says “I’d like that” and now Sam has to worry because he has two sets of emotionally intense blue eyes to contend with, dammit.

~Present~

Another day, another old safehouse Nat has somehow brought up out of nowhere, judging by Steve’s reaction to it. Despite his initial annoyance at Natasha knowing one of Bucky’s secrets, though, the air isn’t so heavy. Even in an old condemned apartment block.

“This place kinda looks like my old building,” you say and sigh. Sam feels a twinge of sympathy, but he can’t be anything other than glad they got there in time. Natasha is too damn good at what she does, and honest to a fault, so Hydra had to have known about you and been on their way even before Steve, Natasha, and Sam were.

“Are you sure you want to compare your home to something that’s been abandoned for years?” Natasha asks.

“Nat!” Steve scolds but you just laugh.

“I don’t know; it looks a little too decent to have been left that long.” You sweep your foot through the dirt on the floor. “Maybe Bucky took a broom to it once or twice.”

Steve chuckles as he and Sam take up their posts while Natasha ducks into a room. “Why? Did he ever do that for you?”

“Pffffft!” You roll your eyes so hard Sam is surprised they don’t go rolling down the hallway. “Mr. I’ll-eat-your-food-but-I’d-rather-lose-my-other-arm-than-wash-one-fucking-plate? Yeah, right.”

Steve laughs like he’s surprised to make the sound. Or maybe he’s shocked you made the joke. Either way, Sam lets out a little snort at the mixture of offense and humor on Steve’s face.

As soon as Natasha pops out to give the signal Steve goes in ahead of you and Sam follows behind. The unit they’re in has vague outlines in the dust and dirt, but it still hasn’t been used in a long time. Sam pays attention to the tone of the conversation you and Steve are having, but he doesn’t listen to the words.

Until Steve sounds concerned. “–ou all right?” Steve asks and you don’t respond.

Sam turns and does a quick look around the rest of the room. He follows your eyes to a hole in the floor Natasha has pried some boards away from. You walk forward and lift out…a blanket. The thing is well-worn, stained in places, and colored in such a way that Sam is fairly certain it used to be much more blue than it currently is. You cradle it, but Sam’s attention is stolen when Steve moves forward to examine what else is there.

“It’s not much,” Natasha says and hands Steve some papers.

Sam goes to stand behind him as he looks through them. Bucky’s enlistment papers, a photo of the Howling Commandos, a sketch of a building that makes Steve’s breath hitch before Natasha holds up dog tags that take it away entirely. “How did he–” Steve clamps down on a laugh and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised anymore.”

Sam sees you look at Steve’s treasures and then back at the raggedy blanket. You look lost for a moment and then press your lips into a tight line. Before Sam can say anything, though, Steve, well-meaning but sometimes-misguided Steve, says your name. And again. And again.

“What,” you bite out. Sam rolls his eyes to heaven. Lord save him from good-natured good old boys.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, verging dangerously close to Captain America. Sam groans and even Nat sighs.

“I’m fine!”

Natasha steps in between you and Steve and puts her arm around you. “We’ll be in the car,” she says and leads you away.

~Past~

Bucky’s first mission out has gone perfectly. Injuries are minor, none of the team is down, collateral damage is at an all-time low, and he and Sam have made a damn good team.

Bucky has to go and ruin it by dropping two drones almost on Sam’s head.

“Hey! Watch it,” Sam says and kicks one of the little metal bastards. The metal-armed bastard that threw it there drops down next to him, landing light on his feet and smirking up at Sam from a crouch.

“What?” he says ‘innocently’ and stands. “Not like it would have ruined your ugly mug.”

“Oh yeah? Well this ‘ugly mug’ has a hot date tonight,” Sam says and smoothes a hand over his head.

“Did you flash some plumage? Do a mating dance?”

“I’m going to,” Sam says and does a little booty shake. “You want to come? I hear you used to be quite the stud and she’s got cute friends. Steve is hopeless; he’s not invited.”

Bucky loses some of the humor. He doesn’t take on the anger that thinking of his past sometimes entails, so Sam waits patiently while Bucky thinks it over. He looks a little sad and shakes his head. “I, uh, I’m not much of a catch. Any guy or gal with a brain would walk the other way. Should walk the other way.”

There’s a story there; Sam can feel it. “So you weren’t tearing up the town between leaving DC and showing up in New York?”

Bucky shoots him a sharp grin. “Depends on what you mean by ‘tearing up the town’.”

“Aw come on,” Sam says. “Even you can’t punch Nazis all the time.” Bucky raises an eyebrow as if to challenge that, but Sam doesn’t allow the attempted deflection. “What’d you get up to outside of that?”

Sam expects one of three things: for Bucky to ignore the question, for Bucky to tell him off for prying, or for Bucky to make a sarcastic comment that draws them away from the subject. Any one of those would be useful enough for Sam to know how much or how little he should back off. But Bucky frowns heavily and says, “Mostly I was trying to decide what I wanted. I thought I knew.”

Sam studies him. “What about now?”

Bucky gives a helpless half-shrug. “Honestly? There’s a lot I want and not much I deserve.” He looks thoughtful. “I’m still figuring it out.”

~Present~

Sam catches up with Steve when they’re switching shifts to patrol. Nat’s on the prowl elsewhere with a promise to return soon, you’re safe in the room Sam just left, and the countryside is quiet. Sam bumps into Steve’s arm, and Steve nudges him back. “Are you okay?” Sam asks, placing the emphasis where Steve often doesn’t.

“Yeah,” Steve says even though he sighs heavily. “Yeah, I’m f–” He sees Sam staring. Sam continues to stare. He stares hard. Steve rolls his eyes and huffs and Sam is struck once more by the fact that this boy has one of the biggest attitudes he has ever encountered. It’s a miracle he survived his own commanding officers long enough to give Hydra a shot at him.

Thankfully, Steve is smarter than most everyone gives him credit for and he drops the act, running his hand through his hair. “I just…don’t get it,” he says. “Bucky’s opened up to me so much, more than I expected– sometimes more than I can handle– and he…” Steve purses his lips. “He means something to her and she means something to him. So why didn’t he ever say anything?”

Sam shrugs and wonders about some of the chats he’s had with Barnes, if there was ever something between the lines that could have clued him in. But that way lies madness, and he hopes Steve knows it too. “Apparently he didn’t say too much on you either, considering she’s just getting to know you now. And sometimes, yeah, people don’t stop talking about the people they care about.” Sam looks at Steve. “And sometimes they keep it to themselves because it’s too much to share.”

Steve sighs, mumbles something about going to check on Natasha, and heads downstairs.

Sam watches him go and lingers at the banister for a moment, listening to the house creak and groan as it adjusts, and thinking about the road so far. Things are starting to slot into place and Sam is feeling positive about the future, actually. This can be good for Bucky– and you– and Steve. Now Sam can only hope Bucky will learn to use his words. On the plus side, you seem like the type of person who will accept nothing less from him, at this point.

Preoccupied and tired, Sam is halfway down the hall when all the lights suddenly go out.

You’re out on the balcony, your back to the house, and you stare across the expansive field in front of you, drawing in air like you’re trying to savor the feeling of breathing.

It’s falling apart.

The blanket, that is.

You play with a loose thread, rolling it between your fingers and resisting the urge to tug as hard as you can, just to see what happens. It’s been washed– it smelled like dirt and dust and made you cough and sneeze until Natasha had pulled it out of your hands and shoved it into a washing machine. Now it…well, it’s just a blanket. A nice one that you’ve missed, but you’re a little embarrassed over how emotional it made you earlier. Then again, you were more emotional over where it was put away. What else it had been packed with.

You’re not going to think about it. Trash Panda is still frustratingly out of reach and you can only fantasize about being the Homer to his Bart and choking him out with the threadbare cover that will probably tear itself to shreds under the pressure. So you don’t think of anything at all. You huddle up under the blanket and stare at the night sky. It’s awfully pretty, and somewhat soothing.

Your not-moping is very rudely interrupted by noise. And buzzing. You jump at the vibrations coming from your pocket and pull out– oh, your phone. It’s been so long since you’ve used it you’ve sort of forgotten you can get calls on it. Now you find yourself staring at the number on the screen. You stare a little more. It isn’t an exact match but it’s close enough that you answer the call and snap the phone up to your ear.

“Lucy, you’ve got some splainin’ to do.”

There’s a pause. Then, on the other end of the line, Bucky rumbles with reluctant laughter.

User Tag List: @gravity-9-8 @grey-stardancer @asslikegilinsky @howdoesoneadult @projectxhappiness @jadepc @fandomlover03

#on the run #bucky x reader #avengers fanfic #avengers reader insert #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #reader insert

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notoriousgrd · 7 years

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Shocktober Days 1-28

Ok, it’s Sunday and I’m not at the folks’ as usual because my brother’s working today, so taking the time to update my Shocktober log post. This is a long one so fasten your seatbelts,

The Devil Rides Out (1968) - been meaning to watch this for over twenty years, finally did and loved it. Christopher Lee and Charles Gray are excellent and I can see how the whole chalk circle bit influenced me at of Doctor Who:Battlefield.

Hotel Transylvania (2012) - I’d planned on another movie but with real world being so horrific that day, changed plans and watched this really fun animated movie.

Dr. Terror’s House Of Horrors (1965) - not the first portmanteau movie I ever saw (that’d be Twilight Zone:The Movie) but the first Amicus one and definitely my favourite. Cushing and Lee, DJ Alan “Fluff” Freeman Vs plants, Roy Castle and his voodoo trumpet, Michael Gough and Donald Sutherland as a doctor. Cushing and Castleford reunite later that year for a certain movie involving Daleks.

Quatermass And The Pit (1967) - last Quatermass I saw, having seen all the television versions and other movies over the years. Much like the Doctor Who/Daleks movies nicely compresses three hours of black and white telly into an hour-and-a-half of glorious colour. I hadn’t seen this when I saw Doctor Who:The Daemons so the parallels were not apparent to me. Andrew Kier is an excellent Quatermass, just behind John Mills in the 1979 telly story.

Christine (1983) - I hadn’t seen this in a long, long time, enough that I completely forgot Harry Dean Stanton and Robert Prosky were in it. Been even longer since I read the book, so can’t say if it’s a good adaptation, certainly a good movie though, the non-cgi car repairing effects still look awesome.

Deep Red / Profondo Rosso (1975) - the only Dario Argento movie I’ve seen and decided to rewatch after Mr Ash mentioned it. Looks lovely, an awesome soundtrack,

Deep Star Six (1989) - One of a few horror films rushed ahead to try and cash in on all the hype for James Cameron’s The Abyss. This one sees many of the people behind Friday The 13th doing an underwater m onter movie. It’s daft fun, I like the monster and it’s got one of my favourite actors, Miguel Ferrer in it.

Ghosts Of Mars.(2001) - One of the three John Carpenter movies I’d not seen, seems to get a lot of stick, but again, a fun action horror movie, with a really good cast (Natasha Henstridge, Pam Grier and Jason Statham) and a nice way of telling the story.

AvP:Requiem (2007) - we were kind of on a trash train for a bit, as this is another movie decried as the worst thing ever when it’s a perferctly competent horror movie with some really nice deaths and a nice basic concept. Take eighties slasher movie environment, add alien death machines.

Life (2017) = This was really, really good. a relatively realistic sci-fi horror that starts off a bit Andromeda Strain but end up Alien. Another great cast, and kudos for a certain point for having a disabled character who’s treated the same as any other crew member right until the moment they fall into the tired trap of his disability leading to his death. Other than that though, really enjoyed this, some really nasty deaths and nothing really set off my “SPace doesn’t work like that!” sense.

Leviathan (1989) = The other movie trying to cash in on The Abyss hype. Another good, fun underwater monster movie with a great cast (Peter Weller, Amanda Pays, Daniel Stern, Richard Crenna, Ernie Husson, Meg Foster), a great Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack and some nice effects work.

The Rezort (2016) - recommended to me by Mr Ash of the Hammered Horror podcast, low budget zombie movie with a great premise, that being that they got the zombie plague under control and have actually set up an island where people can pay to go and shoot zombies on a kind of undead safari. This is also used to try to help people who were traumatised by the zombie event. Of course, this being a horror movie, things rapidly go sideways. Barring a couple of moments, the small budget doesn’t show and the premise is a nice change from most zombie movies.

Waxwork (1988) - I’d seen the sequel to this years ago, when in 1994, my then local Blockbuster was having a massive sell-off of ex-rental tapes wuth no covers for a couple of quid each. Me and my flatmate at the time bought a pile of them, probably fifty tapes between us and this was one of them, a very silly hoor movie with a premise that lets them do little horror vignettes as part of a bigger story. This does that too, it’s another fun romp, with some lovely distinguisdhed actors (David warner, Patrick Macnee and John Rhys Davis) havnig fun with the material.

Friday The 13th Part IX:Jason Goes To Hell (1993) - I’d made my way through the first eight movies a while back, but as always got distracted and forgot to go back and finish off. So with it actually being Friday The 13th, I decided that day to fix that. This is…not great. Jason is killed and becomes a body surfing demon. Really only notable things are Kane Hodder;s wee cameo as an FBI agent, the Book Of The Dead form Evil Dead being being found in the Vorhees house (and thus being what brough Jason back from the dead at some point) and Erin Grey.

Friday The 13th Part X:Jason X (2001) = This one however, is a huge amount of fun, Jason is captured and the plan is to put him in cryogenic status to stop him from killing again as it’s obvious at this point, he can’t actuaslly be killed. Of course, things go sideways and him and the doctor responsible for freezing him are found hundreds of years later when Earth’s a wastland and taken back to a spaceship. Yes, this is Jason Goes To Space and takes a lot of cues form other sci-fi things, space marines, holodecks, evil corporations etc and uses them to make a fun action horror romp that never takes itself too seriously.

Mr Vampire (1985) - One of my all time favourites. Saw it in the mid-nineties when Channel 4 had a seasib if Hong Kong action movies, many with a spooky side to them. This movie introduced me to the Jiangshi, Chinese hopping vampires and this movie is a fun, action comedy with plenty f great action scenes, slapstick and scares.

The Bird With The Crystal Plumage (1970) - As mentioned above, I’d only ever sene the one Dario Argento movie, so decided to fix that. His directorial debut is a mirder thriller where the main character witnesses an attempted murder and soon finds himself in danger with plenty of twists and turns along the way. Great stuff.

Until Dawn (2015) - this is a game for PS4 rather than a movie and with the length it could easily count as between four to six horror movies. It’s an interactive adventure game with excellent motion captured performances, a great plot, great setpieces and with the choices you can make, anywhere between everyone and no-one can survive. I made it out with only two deaths and I know how those can be avoided. One of the best horror games I’ve ever played and highly recommended. Virtual Peter Stormare in particular veeres into the uncanny valley on several occasions. Great stuff.

The Raven (1935) - on the title cazrd it says “suggested by” Poe’s poem, but all that amounts ot is the name and a character who’s a bit Poe obsessed with nods to a couple of his other works in there. Has Lugosi and Karloff, is okay as these things go.

The Car (1978) - was surprised to find most review sites think this is a load of bollocks. I enjoyed it as a kid and still enjoy it now. It’s basically Jaws with a car that appears to be possessed by the devil. Been so long since I saw it, forgot James Brolin and Ronny Cox were in it. there’s some nice direction at points and it’s definitely not as bad as its reputation would have you think.

The Raven (1963) - Another part of my plan is to watch the ROger Corman Poe adaptations, I picked this first because it has the trio of Vincent Price, Peter Lorre and boris Karloff in it and the last movie I watched with them all was Comedy Of terrors which was a blast. I could happily watch Price and Lorre mucking about for hours, the first half-hour is mostly the two of them sparking off each other. It’s a tale of warring wizards, everyone looks like they’re having so much fun and I had a grin on my face throughout. Lovely and highly recommended. Also has a young Jack Nicholson in it.

The Fall Of The House Of Usher (1960) - Corman, Price and Poe again, a far more sombre affair but again really good. Vincent Price is one of those actors I can watch in anything.

Suspiria (1977) - Back to Argento with weird goings on in a prestigious ballet school. The plot is not really important, you watch Argento mivues for the visuals and amazing soundtracks. Really enjoyed it.

Phenomena (1985) - Argento once more, with Donald Pleasance (with a lovely Scottish accent), JJennifer Conolly in her movie debut and a chimp with a razor. The usual sumptuous visuals, great soundtrack (with Iron Maiden and Motorhead showing up at points) and the usual twisted plot. Had one of those rare monets I really go “Ooooh!” and curl up a bit when someone gets stabbed in the hand with scissors.

The World’s End (2013) - probabl;y the worst of the Cornetto Trilogy (Shaun Of THe Dead and Hot Fuzz being thew others) but still a brilliant movie. It starts off as a middle aged man trying to recapture his youth by getting his childhood friends to finish a pub crawl they never managed as teens, then turns into Incasion Of The Body Snatchers/ Great all-star cast and two of my favourite fight scenes in horror movies, the one in the gents toilets because of the wrestling moves and thew one in the pub a combination of Nick Frost (I love big lads kicking arse) and the remix of Silver Bullet’s Twenty Seconds To Comply backing it.

Attack The Block (2011) - I had difficulty with this first itme I watched it, I live on a council estate and the main characters weere a bit too true to life for me to begin with. This time though, no problem. Premise is a load of big gorilla wolf motherfuckers crash land in a council estate in London and a bunch of ASBO kids and a nurse take them on. It’s notable for having John Boyega and Jodie Whittaker who would both go onto much bigger sci-fi things with Star Wars and Doctor Who. It looks great, sounds great, the creature design is unique and this time round I spotted little references like the tower block being Wyndham Towers and it being near a Ballard Street.

#halloween #shocktober #horror #movies

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withgraceandlight99 · 7 years

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I Don’t Dance - Story Repost

A/N: I’m feeling a little down on my writing, which led me to dig around in my fanfic folder, which led me to find this. It will be canon in my head until something else airs. :)

Oliver Queen didn’t dance. He could vaguely remember dancing with his baby sister at a wedding reception when she still wore dresses that puffed out. During his partying days, he avoided the dance floor, preferring other…activities. After the island, he didn’t even like parties―only holding them and running a nightclub to hide his now worthwhile activities. According to some people, at least. The only wedding he’d been to since he stepped foot in Star City again was his best friend’s, and he spent most of it staring wishfully at him and his wife, swaying to the music while they stared into each other’s eyes, so full of love.

So why, tonight, did he have his arms around his new wife, leading her in their first dance together as husband and wife?

He didn’t really know. Couldn’t imagine how he finally figured out how to love a woman so much that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with her by his side. Couldn’t believe that she would actually want him by her side for another fifty years.

But he did. Somehow, some way, he did. They did. It hurt to think about how many rocky hills they had to climb before they reached the top of the mountain, but with their love for each other, they made it, and tonight, they were waving that flag from the mountain peak.

In a tux and a wedding dress.

The song that Thea picked out for them played on, but Oliver couldn’t hear or see anything but his wife. His wife. Tears filled his eyes as he thought of his younger self. Never would twenty-three-year-old Oliver Queen have imagined that eight years later he would be dancing with the most beautiful, kindest, gentlest woman on the face of the earth. The thirty-year-old version would’ve had a hard time imaging it.

Felicity twirled in her gown and then came back to rest her head on his chest. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“About you.”

“About how I hacked your phone to see where we’re taking the jet tonight?”

“Felicity!”

“I’m kidding. What exactly were you thinking about?”

“How if I could get Barry to take me back to seven or eight years ago, my younger self would never believe me if I told him what was happening right now.”

“My younger self wouldn’t believe it either. Getting married to a handsome man like you? I could go on but I already rambled about you enough in those embarrassing vows.”

He spun her around again and chuckled. “They made me cry.”

“Probably from embarrassment.”

“Never.”

“You have another sixty years with me, Mr. Queen. I will make it a point to embarrass you at least fifty times.”

This time when she twirled, he pulled her back and wrapped his arms around her waist. He buried his face in her blonde hair and whispered, “As long as you’re with me for that long, I’d be okay with that.”

The song picked up, and Oliver pulled Felicity along to the beat. Several times, one of them stepped on the other’s feet. Personally he thought her heeled shoes had to hurt more than his normal ones did.

But didn’t that symbolize them? They had their missteps; sometimes those missteps felt like high heels had just been slammed down onto shoeless feet, and sometimes they were just little slips.

Nevertheless, they found each other again. They swept along to the music; they found a reason to dance together. Just like now.

Diggle, Thea, Barry, and the rest of the crew cheered as he lifted Felicity in the air and spun her in circles. She squealed and gripped his forearms, throwing her head back laughing as he rotated twice before setting her down.

The music reached the end, and Felicity pulled away just enough to look at him. And smile. “I love you, Oliver Queen.”

He dipped his forehead down against hers and allowed a moment to catch his bearings. Everything that she said moved him to tears, even the little ‘I love yous’ that he’d heard a million times. Her look of love that she’d given him since the very beginning made his body wilt. Somehow he caught this amazing woman who saw him not as he was, but who he could be.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

Felicity’s arms came around his neck and she laughed. “You brought a bullet-ridden laptop into my office, remember? I knew you had a good heart from the beginning. And after a little while, I knew that I could love you. And to answer your question…you loved me. That’s all you needed to do.”

He bit his lip and nodded. Nothing else could really come out. How could it?

“Hey.” Her hands slid down his cheeks, her voice soothing away any doubts he still had. “You deserve me, Oliver. Don’t tell yourself any different. I’m your partner for life now. And you’ll definitely have to get used to me giving you these kind of pep talks.”

This time he smiled at her. “I’d be okay with that.”

Their kiss was met with roars of approval. Most of the noise came from Diggle and Thea. Oliver smiled as her lips claimed his, holding him captive for just one last moment before the night flew by them in a flurry of dancing and partying. He loved her. He loved this woman.

As the night wore on, he danced with his sister, his new mother-in-law, and countless other girls whom he knew. He and Sara Lance even took a turn.

“I’m happy for you, Ollie. Really, really happy.”

“Thanks, Sara.” He spun her around twice, careful not to reinjure her broken wrist. “I’m happy too.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard you say that. And before…you weren’t really telling the truth. Because you weren’t really happy before then either. Your soul was looking for the right girl. And you found her.”

“Yeah.” His eyes travelled the room until he found her, laughing with Roy and Thea. By the mortified look on Roy’s face, it had to have been wildly disturbing. He chuckled. Poor Roy. Felicity could pack a punch when it came to distasteful comments. Part of the reason he loved her so. “Yeah, I did.”

Because he did. Oliver Queen, former party boy and ex-killer, had found his light. With her help, he became the Mayor of Star City. With her help, he became the Green Arrow. He became a better man with her by his side. She changed him. And if someone wanted to argue that changing into a different kind of vigilante wasn’t true change, he had one fact to give them: Oliver Queen didn’t dance.

But tonight, he did. Because Oliver Queen could dance. As long as it was with one girl.

Felicity Smoak.

#Olicity #Arrow fanfic #Olicity fanfic #Oliver x Felicity #Olicity wedding #I'm with Arrow

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ryanthedirector-blog · 7 years

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To Prioritize Needy News

1. Purple Hibiscus 2. Counterfeit 3. Trust everyone 4. Delusional ( Like you haven't) 5. Product 6. Jordan 7. None of your business 8. Double standards 9. Commercialized, failed experiments 10. Ten steps 11. Paranoia, is love stronger than death? 12. Swim with the fishes ( God said) 13. Savage patch kids

Purple Hibiscus

What do you like about me? I like your eyes, your smile, they warm my heart late at night when we make unrequited love in the pillow sheets What do you like about me? I like your humor, charm, and the way you talk to people every time you communicate it's like I'm watching a superhero Psychedelic mushrooms have taken over us, it's overtime and it's nice out so it's best you leave Ever since I dipped in purple I've been feeling a little ill, ever since you've left my life I've been leaving a little trail of my tears and I hope no one notices Before the sunset I'll take what's left of me and drag myself to the nearest bar, I got no care but I've walked a million miles before What's a girl like, I wouldn't know I've just met a bunch of bitches. My bad, too bad, all the good ones have flown away from me, I've color coordinated my thoughts with chocolate dip I'm sorry Madre I've inspired a bitch to fuck sideways I'm sorry Padre that's not what you would've taught me, I know The rumors aren't real, you look cute but you keep leaving me in the blue, that's why I have to cut you out I hate to go zero but it's a lockdown. Itself on top of ourselves that's one to many light to go out Purple ruined me that's why it's demotivated me in my own shop, Finance Fuck hatred I'm high for beauty that's why I'm making art for people who can't stand the sight of me, a member of some weird society where they can't keep there goddamn mouths shut The flowers are blooming in the sky, trust me I would know I've been there, I've done that, it's a pretty sight when you're trying to take a vacation away from the monsters that creep up to fuck with you These walls cramp me up that's why I'm scared, I tried to call for help but I don't expect anyone to answer it's best they get moving cause they don't want me, clearly I can see that At my worst I called for a friend, and I got more than a friend, I got everything I've ever needed and he was here all along that was God Formed a relationship with the man that's our business, he gave me everything I needed that's why I killed myself off in Finance until the album came out, it's genius I drank Lemonade and ate some chicken that's all I've ever wanted, someone with pure skin to pass me an opportunity I love you for that, I love you for giving me the chance to hold your hand to guide me through some teen process that only Brittney Cherry could handle Brittney Cherry good luck in college, and Gianna too. I've always thought you were the last two with class in class Goodbye ladies I know you'll have a holy future, my friend told me that you would and I trust his guidance Even when the paint dries I hope my friends will still be there for me. Love is love and loving can be difficult when one's sand sinks to the bottom of the seashore I swear to god I can't change, but love me just the same and I'll love you right back More Pina Coolata's for the girl she might need some, shielding others for my conscience that's what I'll teach my daughter If Finance is the devil, then I have to be the angel cause everyone is the opposite My only opponent is the homophobes who want to be mean to the heart of America, go fuck yourselves I am what I need to be to strive of excellence, and everything I do is excellent that's why I have to try to eliminate the forefront of the wall that's making me suffer lightly with a spatula of butter Dipping in purple may look nice, but it has its cliches even the Bible I was handed said so. Something doesn't seem right but I tried it anyways, and I had to murder Ryan Lapierre because of it. Goddamn these condos and conversations that I can't be a part of cause all these worshippers of the bad things shun me Shut the fuck up I can hear you I'm right here standing behind your back. I never thought you would spurt those words but you did it anyways. That's why I'm angered, frustrated, and a little bit confused Confusing how the friends you used to have, go behind you and say some shit when you did nothing wrong. Backlash for no reason baby that's a holiday. Sober gone wrong, now I gotta go back I'm a Christian now, better not crash If I had to rewrite the pages I'd erase most of the characters, America calls them the villains, I just call them garbage that belong in a disposal Laura won't you marry me, in this black Bugatti Too early I thought so homie This hibiscus is making me laugh in circles, on repeat, and even cry sometimes in my sheets that I used to make love in with my ex girlfriend prison convict soon to be Soonest flight to hell would help, holy shit these people can't spell, I can't stand these bitches. Take a hike and never come back that's the motto for the better hit it If I'm so good in purple then kiss me minutes into sun If there's real out there show me something before it has to rain If I'm the right fit, why are you trying to leave me and Vin Can there be light, I think I've found some, it's with God and his soul Fuck Eddy and his team Don't be scared I just kill you Knowing upon knowing updates of everything going on, I'm feeling like an online textbook full of knowledge. Thank my friend God that he made me a democrat cause fuck these conservatives thinking that black people are the problem of America. Every time a remark pops up my face turns blue and I punch a wall Megyn Kelly let's fuck Isabella don't duck Dip in purple I must Dip in purple I did Turn the lid upside down Soon to be spouse on the way Spent a dollar on some jewelry That's why my sister doing that And I'm about to kill the enemies Here we go don't blink cause you'll miss something 3 2 1 Die

Counterfeit

Holy balls all you motherfuckers get a look at this, I just robbed a store and the police are out to get me. Do you have the audacity to fuck with a God like me, I don't think so, after all I'm a grinder with the characteristics of a figure skater, skating a figure eight without two eyeballs, but one eye looking at his momma analyzing her facial expressions, to the judge the situation of her divorce with the alcoholic father Catch me if you can I'm a bandit on the loose, if you blink once all you bitches gonna miss me make the biggest move of my life. Wait until May 8th that's when I'll really go crazy. Counterfeit banquet hanging on a mouse. Mousetraps across the border, they're coming after me but I'm dodging bullets like the Matrix Keegan Shea can't come close to what I got, and that's a fact all the morally right people know that. I'll take a cherry blossom before the game and fuck my life by making these fucking operations that's a crime in its own self. Sophia Avril I'm sorry for Operation cherry blossom, that's when I was on the vodka Made a pretzel video I'd rather be playing the pretzel game with Alyvia Say your last goodbye before I'm cuffed up winking at my girlfriend Flavor your menu before I have to do this for my momma, my sister, and my fans I got an army that's ready to demolish the lobby, and the swamp full of dirty fucking douche bags who thrive off ignorance, ignoring the fact that there's women around. How can one be a Russell Sanborn when all he does is get rejected on a daily basis, basically what I'm trying to say is he doesn't give up, but based off of the new haircut it looks like he has A lovely day outside to bump into someone on purpose and pinpoint a pressure joint on a girl yelling my name in a moaning motion, that's what the fuck I live for at this point. Research your details before you make a dry remark about what I do, what I do is what I need to do that's why all the bitches call me baby All the Avril's like my style, businesses like the pills I give them even if they get drowsy during the meetings. Shut the fuck up this mediation ain't a joke, I was at a rough spot stop making up stories. I'm not the bad guy, but you a bad girl, Crystal Bowersox fuck something up so we can hit the water spout Counterfeiting a counterfeit that's my charge, don't bartend it cause I'll be back bare nude calling my baby baby, and my lady my girlfriend Jake Ford, can't you go to Singapore, get some better ear piercings they really make me wanna hurl. The reconciliation of a process that's meant for one not all, makes me wanna go to get a car to catch some snakes and kill them off Don't you understand that the cops are after me, it's a common thing cause I'm scamming those bitches off. Shit I'm an official bad boy, is that what God made me, or did he make me to hate people like you. I'll counterfeit what I see especially if I see some uncalled for touching going on between the two of you. Operation Bigfoot I'm so sorry for nothing I don't regret it, note to self don't date a blonde. I'll date a brunette so she can give me that cool sex. Sexual tension between me and the girl and it's getting to firm so that's why the white cops are after me Counterfeit it Counterfeit it Counterfeit it Comeback to life, that's what my future wife is telling me her name is Mercedes I'm just kidding don't shoot me, stop taking everything so seriously you're being so naive go swim a lap and drown to death. Batshit crazy in the bathroom they can't find me here, hereby stating that my eyes are locked in on you and I'm about to snap into a billion pieces cause all the things you say make me wanna grab you by the eyes, and use them for dinner and the jungle Jungle feathered heads making friends with dicks, suck my dick I won't be humble about it, it makes me sick. Makeup all over the couch, the mascara rubbed off, after the offensive drinking that took part at Worcester Technical High School. Skin the bottle, spin the bottle, tell a tall tale about you have no talent, that Alyvia Hagearty won't you be my friend, there shouldn't be in end because I love you so much, I'll pay millions to buy you another tye dye shirt just to see you sneeze on it Counterfeiting a caper the real caper is all these relationships that just form into dead fish at a butcher shop Who's Grayson, Grayson I love you man let me buy you a drink and I'll take a shot after every dirty look you give me in the cafeteria. After then I would die from alcohol poisoning. Power to Pasquale cause she's counterfeiting Erick's heart, like Gigi did to mine. I got God on my side, but even if I didn't I would get a fucking massage and think about all the numbers that Vinny and I lost just to step forward in an operation. If this was the Office and I was Michael Scott, Pam Beesley is right next to me flip flopping like a Budapest making pancake plays on a magazine wall slurping Kool Aid on Wall Street that's why she's a motherfucking wolf, don't vote for Trump. Bitch they're after me, no one can save me on this one this is one where you might just shove a onesie up an ass, and a blue pill in my mouth. Zoom zoom zoom I'm a zombie biting the necks off my enemies. I offered to help but Paul you're making it worse. Paul, Keegan, Roose, Eddy, even the repetitive chubby Edison. These are the men that are in the dungeon. I came to feed but I can't feed all these people humor when they find humor in Hitler Swastikas and racist remarks. Fuck we're counterfeited Counterfeit my feet for money It's a myth don't play with my heart Little silly goose you fucked with the wrong guy I may not be important to you But I can ruin a life in two seconds

Trust everyone

Why does hell have to doubt me, don't they know it Man oh man do they have to know it Damnation can't be real I know, I know, I know May I have a minute with you, I'll make it quick cause I gotta give all my sins to the bank cause it's donation season All the times I've made mistakes I've met my doom it tastes like fucking ivory Socially I'm a butterfly ready to bloom and roll big for the homies, the ones that spend dollars on pop rings If emotional barriers hold people back can emotions be economically stable to be sensitive on a bank account, does it matter? Momma said to your lifestyle the way you want, just don't smoke weed in your future apartment, or anywhere for that matter Anything for the woman that raised me. She, sissy, and Vinny are the only ones I can trust, but somehow I end up making the mistake of trusting everyone Each time someone takes a shot at my heart I'm depressed and imagine me drinking again, I hate it but my biggest problem is getting sucked by the magnet that people hold up onto my body Trust everyone that's a flaw even if it sounds like paradise it's the worst possible encounter to experience. Exiling a match full of women at the party in my twenties in my class there's a real beauty. I'll stroke her like a jellyfish and snuggle her like the twelfth commandment that I switched up as a law that you can tell a secret without getting shot, and wear a hoodie without the bad man fucking you up You are complicated but some how your complexity rouses me. Even when everyone has left you dazzle me, don't take too many shots at the party you're my blonde mermaid. Meet a man who gonna give you something like your father did. I put to much faith in my economics and my freedom of ownership Don't you dare give a talk to a bitch when I didn't give permission Don't go out to tell you friends just so you can Smoke in Fresno later with a freshman Trusting everyone that even talks to me, better write a note that later on we'll become the best of enemies. Fuck all this shit in the parking lot, I'll just past the resort and jam some Advil in my system and call it a night. Putting everything into someone just to get intolerance, you know why I killed myself in Finance it's cause I got my heart broken again it's no mystery History repeats itself when people get released from their disc to determinate dangerous demonstrations like a dictionary with different colors that's different from the ones they came in with I hope once I grow up to become a botanist, they write my name down in pen and rubber stamp it cause I'll roll out knowing I fucked up to trust these four fucks who ain't funny no more Edison I'll cancel your storyline, it's giving me problems, it's getting repetitive the repetition isn't even humorous it's cancerous. Brain damage on the way your shtick is the definition of a short circuit Jazz is my favorite line of art, but they finesse me and I can't get out. Emilee Algieri I promise I'm the one to trust. When the gig is over, maybe we'll connect in a way that others can't. Idiocy is a running theme, so within myself I must start the conversation I guess that isn't too much for someone with iron balls of steel. Excuse me Emilee but I see you walking by, and you look awfully nice, maybe we can walk around just to watch the stars and eat some rice. Beauty is upon you I can see it from a mile away, it's like I'm looking at Cleopatra but you are so alive. Pick up lines are for pussies that's just me being modest. Trusting people who trusted demons who can't be trusted throughout time isn't the best thing, but the bad thing is I do it more than I start an engine sobbing. My queen is queer she's a beauty god, a disco devil almost like D'anglo. Baby when I grow older and my walls have been fixed by whoever wants to fix them, we'll go golden that'll be on my younger tongue 24/7 It's hard sitting next to the same old people, getting no credit for trying to spice the whole thing up, they're sour Sour skittles try to make a move with me and maybe we'll be in the same bed sleeping together. McCluskey remember me, if you don't that's cool too, you'll be getting to know me in the summer. Whichever pill you take that's fine by me but you're alliance could be in shambles Better off dead the fat man said, with scissors I can trim your face off and watch you die in the Sahara Gianna Sasso taking names I'm liking what I see. Alana Trotto that can't be my motto I'm learning not to trust her or her feelings Trust everyone no more I promise, I'm a better man, I'm the best man at the wedding, I'm little God I got a metal that says so. Hope is alive I see it clearly, I can feel the finish line even if I put to much of my stock in people that wanna use me. I'm pissed off my heart still can't pick up the damn pieces All I want is a buddy who doesn't want to fucking kill me Vinny Sasso, Lucas, Eh Koh Loh let's gamble some shit on the poker table Phonies across the area, people can't be so dumb it's called life Don't get so dramatic Jessica that's melodrama at its finest The melody I play is love someone in the first three seconds When it takes them three months to open up I'm not about that shit anymore Trust everyone that's for pussies I'll give you all a lesson about life God unchained me to my father I miss him so much I used to go to therapy Even when someone says they're with you that's bad rhetoric remember they're lying Juvenile twats in court that's what it comes to, or a break up text saying I'm a tool I've heard all the things I've needed to hear Abner Cruz you're a crusader But my ass need to a day breaker to break Jordan and Ryan up Can't you see you can't trust me and we've established that especially Emma Thuot But hey I can't trust all these so called allies either cause they'll snipe me using Nothing but there stone cold eyes that never liked the sight of me Who can I trust, I used to trust everyone until now I trust no one and nothing not even my own mind. She called me sugar daddy, and sent me nudes dude what the fuck that's disgusting, but give me them digits you know because of my depression

Delusional ( Like you haven't)

I think it's about that time to come back alive and make a comeback for the homies I love you God, I love my friends and to myself I'm the king pin of this bitch Take your passports out. 30 day Europe trip awaits us pack your bags we're going now Bitch I'm gonna be the King of London fuck it Ireland all the ladies are gonna love me Cause I chug like there's no tomorrow and side effects are false advertising Board the plane, the day is waiting, first class for me and Vinny coach for the ladies I'll be drinking champagne with a cherry on the top, on the rocks, flirting with the flight attendant cause I'm a pimp about to proudly produce some chemistry I may be delusional and a little bit crazy but I sure do now how do dance so take the blindfold off and fuck a foxtrot and share a tango with the king It's like you haven't seen someone who has a personality before, I promise you mama the personality is down under he's a fucking animal, and a fan of the nudity he breaks walls to be with all these pretty ladies it's delusion Now we're here in Europe I'm about to take my fine ass into the party that's delusion, but if kind of sounds delicious. Death do us part until one passes out wasted underwater in a hot tub, like you haven't done that on a daily basis. I take my three friends Livy, Julie, Vinny into this party seeing freckled friends from all across the country smoking illegal shit with no one to stop them. I see one pretty lady with long red hair and I take her hand to go upstairs in the lobby where it's empty and the light switch doesn't work that's how you know this will work Julia's with three fat Yonkers that our light years way ahead of themselves they are teaching her how to handle stress cause they've been through it all. Giving her advice about what's wrong and right, remember combining spam captions isn't something just to block him Alyvia is dancing with three delusional women they are French I can tell by the birthmarks on their necks. One of them is Lea, one of them is Adele, and the other is Amy. Amy and Adele are making out this is fire oh my God. Like you haven't seen love before that's a lasting impression on an impact tattoo that Vinny's getting on his forearm, pull the fire alarm we got a bad motherfucker at this party I'll tell you what's delusional all this delivery that has to deliberate into a fallen deal because of tax emotions and evasion. Bad motherfuckers find it easy to kick the can when she's making out with Brittney Cherry. I call up the homie Christian invite him to this party too, if this party gets a little foolish then he'll ask for nudes that's some bad taboo, he gets nervous really quickly, so let's invite Gianni so she can flirt with him for free Delusion in Europe that's what's going on, fucking pretty women in my long form 2. Seconds of fun, but hours of silence besides the occasional surprise that my lady wants to share. I take my friends to this nice party in Europe, but once the shit hits the fan that's when we shift back to normal Morality is key when you kill someone on a high streak, I'm a steamer I've steamed many times banging tables like I'm on this tank. I think she's delusional that's why she's singing in my shower, I think she's delusional cause these jockey douche bags are taking control of her mind. I knew she didn't have a brain but she got issues, I want to help her but at the same time I wanna see her crash and burn. I can see the rain when you cry, when I cry it thunders that's just a Tuesday that's why my God knows Tossing and turning the next move that's delusion, that's paranoia paralyzingly paralyzing the pop sound that beat boxes in my head like twenty thousand lions roaring. If we're at this party and we're heavy drinking like we're in heaven, then how about we wear our tuxedos we look fresh in them regardless of our color. Sometimes I fantasize about us shaking hands at a Shibuya festival, that's how much I'm delusional, like I haven't popped a pill since the year my gramma died. All the bitches that give nerds like Sachin anxiety ask me where does your delusion come from, and I say it comes from Thing one and thing two and throw Patricia in there too. My days are twenty four hours and I consume my insecurities onto ounce trays but don't forget Trayvon I'll never forget I love you man Superb squab on the table which fucking pansy gonna grab a knife and cut into the blood. Humus, humor, hummers, I'll give you my life if you can fix my delusion. Abortion cuffing into clinic law that's why I hate Clint Brooks I'll block that bitch faster than I scream at my television saying Hillary won, wishing one last farewell to my friends before my favorite comes and I forget about them go fuck them. Funding with feuds that I like to take part of, it makes my noggin go into a frenzy and my light switch colors on the second. I am delusional, I will stay up to very hours to make myself happy getting high on marijuana pretending my stuffed teddy bear is a woman that I can get down with sandy hook jokes aren't funny you anti feminist orangutan, just because I said something you said doesn't mean you have to say what I said was invalid cause the things I say you treat my adjectives like an adjacent back rub abusing my proprieties and priories cause what you say isn't what I say cause I say shit that you say differently than what she says cause he says what I say contracting to the fucking crap she says to appeal to what he says to see what she says saying what he said to say what she said ending what he said and I'm the he, fuck you bitches I hate your hips, go suck my dick

Product

Contributing money to the foundation of my financial career, with all the money spent I'll take Karate lessons with leftovers, every time Ebony opens her mouth I go through internal therapeutic sessions The reputation I've built for this empire is unquestionable so don't undermine me cause I'm riding on top of the planet with the girlfriend that I'm hiding and no one knows about If I'm some kind of product how come I don't have a price on me, they can't take my pride away, this fake shit on the car that you sold before the par that you stroked that's partnership, I'm anonymous another fake day with fake friends doing random shit that children shouldn't watch This concept a product has semi tan complexion with bipolar colors that's personally disturbing, don't have fun without me I know you can't anyways cause whatever I am labeled as is good enough for someone with a stroke of beauty I don't create the blood, but the pills are being crated now, nowhere can you find them cause they're hidden in a sacred place that you're not allowed in I've been through a whole lot in these sixteen years of breathing air, both mentally and physically with the press of a button I could just explode into millions of pieces, a millimeter of what I do is to impress, I just dress to win over the trend that's why I gotta diamond watch that's too big for my scrawny arm Scratch the cassette that may be the right thing to do, mistakes are a virtue but when you get called names that's when you want to fuck a bitch up Washington when can you surrender, at what point to you get attention for being criminals I am minimally sure that's they're miming me, and watching me, they treat me like a product when I'm just a human being Temptation is a nightmare on an anniversary celebrating a couple who fights all night and day, and wants counseling. Think about what's best for you, even when I'm on the street I help a homeless man out cause I believe in him Powder blue skies that's what I have to compromise pretentious people for, product that isn't me cause I'm pretty clean Rave to the fear, that's light they think I'm something that I'm not, forgot what they said I don't give a fuck just don't identify me as such You and me tonight let's make it happen, don't worry I'm not a wound up doll, if anything I'm a Jack in the box cause I'm so imaginative. Imagine a world where guessing games was the main goal for Gucci sandals and sunshine for a silver friendship. The glory days is when we didn't fight and I wasn't labeled as a product, looking at future houses and a fucking bicycle that we can ride all the way to Shibuya If we just got along alone in a house with not a soul there, then maybe we can laugh like when I used to post YouTube videos for you My knees are numb from all of the pain that didn't feel real until now, if I see you on my feed I'll break down into tears cause I miss your pretty smile There was a sparkle and now the only sparkle I see is in the sky, beating me up for a pair of sunglasses and socks A hooker and a eight ball in my lucid dream, but maybe the dream was with you I forgot how to imagine a motherfucker man without frolicking in the sand, Oh my god I am a product aren't I Underserving acclimate for the worst of the day that's why we give out accolades. I tried my thing with Alyssa Accord but she blocked me the next day. Friendzoned like a fuck that's five fingers chopped up, and ten lines crossed out in my hand An elegant garnish could've saved the time I spent grieving I'm a nocturnal animal Nocturne like a love bicycle that's a bypassing byproduct for bystanders forming claymation cause they can't get a piece of picture pussy themselves Now I'm forced to practice like a product that's foreign to some producers of self communication and dehumanization it dehydrates me to death to think about those people in decades to come Just to rewind to the remembrance of Eleni that Greek chick that I used to have a crush on, oh my Ryan Lapierre your lady picking is similar to a homophone with disaster tendencies to disable a teleporting line with telekinetic tendencies to financially fuck someone with money in their pockets, that may not be my morals but that's the way that I draw feel free to vomit in my coloring book, after all if I'm just some company than you can't compact a product that hasn't even hit puberty yet, that's just puppetry In Tunis lied cause I'm institutionalized for my bare knowledge that I display on a day to day basis. Going larger is a vibe that's why my vibration is a lie, just look at my relationships which tend to rather die Being labeled with a sticker like I'm the United Kingdom, I'm supposed to be the king of you how dare you switch sides and ride with douche bags with dildos Illegally this is taking me to a place of mind to start a stab show with a butter knife, and ketchup for dramatics. Honey don't forget your perfume that Chanel works for me and others even though I'm more of a rendezvous guy, God hodgepodges my 2017 by giving me another set of testicles, at my own testimony I hope Asiah shows up she's the only one that doesn't tissue the shovel when the struggle is on high alert in the prison that we call a job Loved as fuck but damaged as such don't do what you need to know that's my job. My confidence oiled onto a stretcher crippled like a wounded soldier luckily I saved it, cause what I gotta do to get revenge for the homies that sadly had to die is sabotage to enemy and use power to my advantage Bitch they say I'm such a product, but I'm a productive prodigy. It's proficient to profile a motherfucker with the chemical balance to backtrack a bassoon like O.J Simpson. If I'm being compared to the Matrix than how can all of this be real, instead of myself being the problem, maybe it's the skinny dipping skull bitches that caress the drama first and I'm okay with the that, because if I go out looking good, that's good enough for me, cause I got what I needed and the need has salvaged me into optimized strategy

Jordan Warner

I'm getting tempted by these jockey fucks, smelly fucks with body odor they don't use old spice, my old grandpa who I hate because he's old smells better than these buffalos. I don't care though I'm in love, I'm in love with these assholes cause that's my drift, my end game is to break a heart cause I got nothing better to do, and I'm straight up clueless Motherfucker what you doing asking me out on 9/11, bitch who do you think I am, I'm Jordan Warner not your whore from pre school, I use boys to get attention cause I'm petty and pretentious. I won't love you, I'll only pretend cause I like Chris Sweeney that's my babe. I'm not just some wannabe Wannasee trash chick from the valley, I'm a freshman with some spice that I got from the garden alley. In my garage I have my cleats I'll spike a motherfucker who wants to call me Cherry Blossom They say I belong in a mental asylum no I don't I'm just American. Shabalaga we're best friends but best friends don't fuck that's why I gotta fuck with Sweeney. All we do is just argue like we're smoking shit, what am I supposed to do just sit and kiss you. Every time we lock lips I projectile vomit all over my grandma cause she's old Fuck old people they look so gross, fuck everyone besides the ten boyfriends I have they all cool besides Ryan Shliapa. You look like a llama you act like a lady cause you're so fucking sensitive I have everything a lady wants I'm hot, I got the body, and I don't rot like a lamb getting catabolized for food experimentation. Don't you dare to try to fuck with me Shliapa you are never going to see what's down under, even though you've tried I've declined that's a no go bitch Bitch I stare at Ryan Lapierre because he looks at me like I'm some kind of psycho witch. Who's this Ryan Lapierre he's a real fucking douche he can go and suck my dick. Sweeney won't you beat his meet Okay that's enough agent red I've caught on don't think I haven't seen you. My mental capacity is strong and if I have to break out my habit of strategy I will. Instagram eight at night I'll text my motherfucking brother Ryan saying watch the fuck out, you're getting cheated on like a snake on the human scar. Bitch what the fuck is going on, every time I see you you're on another guy's lap. Being caressed by football players without a brain cell, when he's not looking you go tongue to tongue with Dylyn. Am I just seeing things, or do I see a motherfucking phony. I will wipe up the blood on the floor, shit is on the wall, and these walls create a monster. If you wanna end this shit show how bout you break up with him, his breath is being wasted by a red goldfish loving nightmare. Jordan Warner I admit you got the looks, but the only thing that's on the inside is black and we all know that. Three alter egos in this fucking song. Jordan Warner, Ryan Lappy, and here comes Dennis Jordan Warner won't you love me, I just want to feel you all the time. I miss the times that we used to cry over The notebook that was the shit in 2004. Once you and Ryan end your thing maybe we can fully comprehend and complete a figure fuck in a final mental showdown with a moth I got a thing for red heads, Alexis was before, and you are the present. You might be the president of passive aggressive nobodies but let's agree to love one another without going to the next person to fuck their slimy ass. Don't assault a bond that we painted on the first day of dating, Jordan Warner I know you're daring, but you're dating me and it should be for good, don't be a fool and send nudes to people that you're not supposed to. I want the password, to see your history with certain people, I got my knowledge from a blonde who got her knowledge from a thot. You might not be aware but I know much about you, just wait until the summer once we're talking you're probably going to fall in love with me too. After all you have thing for Ryan's. If you want to date Mr. Anxiety than how come you're not dating Erick. He's the clingy time that can give you free sex all the time. All my friends say that red head is something else, that something else is you fucking nobodies for lunch money Warner I warned you to backtrack those broken thoughts because I see so much potential, but when push comes to shove we'll all be throwing a pity party towards your name. Ready for the summer I know you are Mrs. Warner. I'll help you sort your shit out so you can be a loner. You can have me I'm single and I like Pringles, oh wait I'm sorry I'm taken to Alyvia I'm kidding that didn't work out. I got my eyes on you at your lunch table. Vinny and I are pulling some true detective shit we catch things that even your fuckboy can't catch. They call me the king because I can find the cracks in a relationship. And I've found the crack it's you Jordan Warner. Plumbing isn't your job, I want you to be in finance so you can tickle my inner mechanics to have the motivation to punch someone out that's playing cards with the devil. I love you Jordan Warner but stop cheating and stay loyal cause to wrong to play origami with five people at once. The points I'm trying to make are valid so just follow along with me someone who thinks you're a model in a construction class with a couple smelly fucks who can't spell for their goddamn lives. The language I speak is fluent fact that's why you gotta stop squatting on your two things at once yoga mat and take a lap to realize the rat that you've become. Jordan Warner you should be an organ donor so you can donate something for once in your life just stop sitting there and watching. Unless you make a change, you must be stopped by me and my members. How are you gonna tell your kids that Chris Sweeney is their daddy because mommy made bad life decisions. I've only had one special honey and her name was Isabella and once I realized she was the fuckin devil I had to let her go. But if you want what you please I ask you Jordan Warner to go ahead, but remember to feed dinner you must be remembered as God's creation, and I can count my fingers to ten but if the clock turns to twelve clockwise and you haven't changed, tech will turn to hell, and hell will be upon you Goodbye Shaps, hello Lappy Goodbye Sweeney, hello Ryan Goodbye dye, hello natural I'm the gucci bitch don't mess with me or my handbag, I'm a little tipsy but I'll tiptoe to get some more whiskey. And fuck him before my daddy come home to see me ripped

None of your business

Damn personal space means nothing to people no more, I'm not one to call someone out like a picky person but pick up your garbage when maiden mothers try to motorboat your lips without lipstick and a flick of shine Cannonball in the crystal clear water, clearly the wagers aren't so private when Captain Obvious crushes on some angel from Amsterdam that's you Sophia None of your business what my work is, what matters is that my mental health is cleansed before the big game with these sick motherfucking children who act like I'm some mass murderer murdering the force God why did you leave me with some anomalies I can't unbox, it's unbreakable because unblocking me is clearly something that they don't tend to think about Even whenever I'm minding my business, there always seems to be someone bitching about how I'm something that they don't want to be, I say fuck them and continue to make alliances with people that care about my feelings, and love me Attention ladies I'm not scared of your threats, they make me laugh cause it's pathetic how one can stoop so low to never talk to me again. How about you get your emotions checked out so you don't make a mistake and make out with waysides riding the dicks off other junkies Our whole friendship is a subliminal message, this is supposed to be a community I suppose we don't all have to support each other but when one is sipping the juice of the devil than I have to duck None of your business what I'm doing on my Periscope. People punctuate without any preconditions on their plate and quite frankly I'm sick of it. Disappointed in glitter that Amanda Gocklin isn't mine, but minerals can't adapt without a leader and these dry rocks pathetically ham in terrible insults to make me start something so they can victimize my decisions. Oh God they're demons, kill them with a stroke of your arrow, and sacrifice the heroes in sight for the villains that don't shed light None of your goddamn business who the fuck I talk to, let me do my thing. Stop acting like my mother when you can't even raise your attitude to be mature enough for a group chat. Changes I need changes to be a man that has rational cumquat potencies. Drink a magic potion, so that you faint when your ass deflates in defense to the bullshit. The cabinet is full of cabinetry that's not what I sign up for I sign up for the memories, the good times with people that experiment with exotic flavors. Instead I'm only seeing the cast of an extra excoriated exorcist go fuck them all with my themes and my animals Watch your mouth, I consider myself to be a charade of Christ because of my fatherly hula hooping to the people that need a brother. Circling around the dining room just to touch a beauty and her crown, drowning my sorrow with the duchess to clutch my used to be crush with a white Ferrari and a diamond ring with flawless diameter. The streets are filled of contemporary women who push me aside even when I'm productions fresh strawberries, goddamn watch your goddaughter her and the car are about to collide, fuck that it's none of your business what kind of color I dip in cause I'm out chasing the seventh severance package that owed me a dollar for lollipops Tried to fuck Lindsey now I'm biking to try and find myself love again, it's none of your business that I'm nonexistent dying my hair for the extended warranty of a bad boy Julia Pasquale watch it don't make threats when you can't dish the heat, I'll dance in the night to ice pick the homie to my right who's up my ass about God knows what, I just tell her to dig in thinking I'm driving insane on the far line of immaculate bulldozing. I won't pick apart your shit, if you dip into the good side and stop fucking around with my heart, none of your business to tell me the to do list when mist is in the skyline, and soloist is the next step in my nest Hotel up there, excellent excerpt you taught me to butterfly, to swim good from theories looming I NASCAR has a special piece of my heart, none of your business how these colors interact in my interstate At the strip club with all these people on my lap, but all I think is how I get back at the assholes, do I slash their neck with red, or kill them with the blue If your business was my own, then I would take ownership of heatstroke me and Heather would die The feather flew down from the sky, I'm about to say some shit that will go over your head, and the only business that this pertains is mine and a select few Tell me the fewest crescents to go over the moon without coming back as a wolf, clawing cans backstage I wish I had my camera to document this Stapleton. Love is like a box of chocolates, but I swear to god the shallow people purr like Luther studying damnation, I am shaking but fuck you if you think you're so proud of yourself, you are wrong because your eyes are red from all the crying that the fathers brought Hey I've been looking for a good one for my whole life, when I reside and resign from Earth I hope I've already found the second piece of the Lapierre show None of your damn business can you please leave bitch, Karma sutra that's aura. Angling the way sliding out there water bottles, I will fucking kill you, and fuck your before the moon comes back, and the background gets reversed by my backhand strutting in the bathroom. Newscasters America is a duck, and my classmates suck, but my business can be defined by the way I come about. If one hundred fifty wasn't enough then I'll go to a bridge concert to concede my cool to sell you out

Double standards

My homie got beat to death cause he dated another man. He came out of his shell to date him, he felt so brave, I was a proud brother the little homie identified himself as what he was I love that kid. We go to Shannon's party for a few cocktails and I witness my homie mingling with another man so I go over, cause I gotta see the rundown of what's going on. A couple hours later my homie is making out with the man, I'm stunned in glory proud that my shy friend can adapt into a tank that's some real talk. Perfume hits the air as the scent of pine scenes trees in springs, there's no tornado outdoors cause this is a party full of outsiders, this is their time, it's timeless love, way to go homie you got yourself a boyfriend. Don't let nobody tell you nothing. A few days later I call my boy up he's still with the man that he fucked at the party, he finally felt like he was loved, his parents gave him no attention, getting spanked by dad 24/7 he didn't live that good life. So he rolled some blunts with the man as they locked eyes and started kissing nightly. I walk on by to the house I smell marijuana it's a little bit crazy, but they're madly in love and I'm happy for my friend as he was knocking on heaven's door days ago. I invite the two of them to my place for a couples banquet for some shrimp and pasta, they say fuck it yes let's go tonight. So they put their matching tuxedos on and their colored bow ties with Chanel, and pack a couple wine bottles cause they know me well. The wind is harrowing, above looks sad, but that's just the casual rain. I invite the homie Donald I've known him since pre education, and he's a people person he can bond with the best of them, he's so great. So I get the crackers ready and the champagne popping, this is what you call a fucking party. Donald arrives with his golden necklace, his goddamn grills, and his girlfriend Selena. She speaks fluent French and that's how I like my hookers sister he knows what my heart craves. Selena's knee snapped on her way to the bathroom, before the party started and she started crying like a wounded gazelle, Donald goes to help her when I hear the doorbell ring. It's Jarome and Jared my two friends, my great amigos. Matching tuxedos, with a man bun eighties style looking like studs. So all the guests have arrived and I'm about to introduce one to the other cause I'm such an important host. Donald gets up off the ground with his French princess and gives a dirty look when he sees Jarome and Jared holding hands. Jarome is all in he reaches out his hand and Donald slaps it looking angry, we were scared I never saw him this upset before. Donald starts yelling saying what the fuck are these faggots doing they should go to hell. I punch Donald in the face saying get the fuck out of my house you inconsiderate illiterate don't use that word that's offensive, where are your fucking morals. Donald doesn't care he takes me to the ground, grabs Jarome by the neck and takes his belt out while I'm unconscious. Frenchie and Jared are trying to hold him back but Donald is so buff that they're no match. Punches are being flown, and tears are being shed. Jarome's face is purple as a grape, as he falls to the floor, and he's pronounced dead. It's 2017 what the fuck are you all doing, let people be happy and live their life the way they want to. I don't care if you're gay that's fine by me, it's not a choice if someone tells you that say shut the fuck up you don't know nothing about LGBTQ. All you conservatives, and bible pushers wake the hell up we're in a new generation. Where relationships can be formed by people with the same sex. If God could change the Bible he'd let gay people be, I know God is up there shaking his head at the Texans. If me and you have to fight the system then we should do it. The system don't give a fuck about orientation, minorities, or transgenders they just talk about deporting, and discriminating against all of them every day. I'm a straight man in High School and I got more common sense than you baboons. The only gross thing I see is a republican going on about gun control like an insane dumbass. This world was made by immigrants, be thankful for your local Muslim who you're probably not paying a dime. It's 2017 we should all get along, and accept one other's lifestyle. Donald Trump ain't doing shit so how about we control the country in our way, where everyone gets paid the same, and equal rights are the name of the game. Trayvon Martin got shot for wearing a hoodie, Oscar Grant got shot by the police for simply being black. You know how much suicide is going on cause you bullies encourage hatred across the nation. If I have to be the preacher that has to unite the country than I will in 2040. I will be there for you, even if everyone has left, and you don't have a home let me be in your heart as I will care about you. To all the gay people out there that feel like they can't fit in I'm here for you, I'll help you out I promise you. We may not have a leader who gives one damn about you, but we can raise the rainbow flag and wave it high cause you shouldn't feel shame in who you are. You are loved by many, and these communities inspire me every day, the light will come to you, and you should never feel shut out

Commercialized, failed experiments

Did you experimentation work the way you wanted, do you commercialize your options just to fit in, inside do you have the heart to fertilize the scent of a rose? These walls can talk they come to life at night, I took a shot in the dark to try to fix the broken machinery but a man can't stand uncompressed memories, that will put me in memorial service. How about we get some Vodka just to ease the insanity of the inside of our insurance. You help the homeless out, while I slap my homies in the stomach. It's a golden shower filled with desperation and droplets of teardrops that would make a grown man cry. Operation Bigfoot was an experiment, and it expired rather quickly. I may be no Bradley but I got better abs just ask Isabella. Sunshine in heaven that creates diffusion between my different quotations that's subliminal for some reason, easy there you were being used, you were born to be a user. Useless to think of some clever username just to make you reek of depression. If there was white behind me and if I had to speech a couple lines I would put on this act that's not part of the contract that I signed as little baby. Controversy is my middle name put that on my Mimosa and my peppermints. The sound of one's engine energizes me to experiment on people with thyroid problems, and kidney failure. The daily routine is to act funny to save a life, I do that for a lifetime don't you think there's something behind the lottery, if you do you won the million dollars. Baking heartbreak like that Crystal shit cause she knows what I have been through, commercialized attention whore, just to gore a fitness package full of illegal pills. Red or blue I'll let you choose, just so when you pick wrong I'll be the one to leave the casket open. Molly aren't you jolly laughing with me at the attractive blondie, that's going on a vegan diet, failed experiment she gave up to eat that Chicken liver in two minutes time I saw that. Five hours a day for nothing, treating it like I'm working a job to fight the fury of our future nation enemies. The day before the election that's when I called up my army to fuck the fun to ruin shit that would never be. With Pasquale we then killed something that didn't need a stab. Might as well unlock the injection code to inject, cause I was fired from what I loved, we sat there silent thinking is it over for us. Now the bitch that freed my self doubt about getting out there wants a job at Burger King flipping fake patties just to get some money for the restraining order against her boy toy Dan. The story was her breath smelled like Mocha Latte Chocolata at Coachella, cause she was drunk on caffeine that wasn't me, she chose the red. If life is an experiment than all these failed experiments are created by exodus experts who flush the blood down the toilet on a monthly basis. I don't smoke that weed no more, it's better if I try to be independent cause I was identified as a motherfucker before. To take my anger out I might have to sell out my closest allies even though they did nothing wrong, commercializing my life story as a soon to be teen mom cause my gateway is straight into my own territory, shoving intelligence out the window to interest my mental issues so I can see the things that I'm not supposed to see. Eyes glimmering maybe it's just the fertilizer that I sprayed onto my new red Bugatti, on the carpet I rolled with my homies like a dog, but I'm prepared to brawl about some random shit to get people to hate me, even if I'm not getting paid, it's better to stand up for what you believe in cause I'm in a temple of love. I'll say I'm more friendly, but it's okay my judgement is clearly flawed. It's my turn to talk, I promised that I would try to help, but how can I help a broken branch when she's clearly impossible to work with, the impression you set within my ecosystem is a high intolerant crybaby you need a fucking binky cause quite frankly I'm sick of your official shit. Fuck we experimented way too hard and now together we must witness what we created, when is summertime so I can drink and dance just to text a stranger to phone fuck at twelve AM. If America was watching anyone with some common knowledge that doesn't work in congress, would sort out the heroes and the villains quite simply. Accusation every day, all I wanna do is flush someone out with a flashlight and duck tape, Loving cringe it's turning into a permanent disease for me, maybe I'll just paint my whole body with tattoos saying lick me cause that's what I get off at. If someone could see the real something they'd turn into a raven and fly south forever, this thing is going downhill that's why I'm bringing out the pills, cause every time I talk what I get is attitude, fuck attractive people. Guidance Councilors and countless guilty people in our circle, peer pressuring pear heads to headshot the many mistakes they make on their headset equipment, the IQ of Finance is equivalent to a Chipmunk, but at least Chipmunks can keep their mouth shut. Even when I'm trying to help a fellow upset man out, I get pathetic friends from the girl before her sweet 16th birthday, let me do my work or else I'll go on your account and disable it. Don't think I'm soft the only thing that's soft is the way Jahmiah talks to us, God bless her. Commercializing this television program with unsettling behavior, but fuck with me and I'll turn you into a commercial that no one watches. A part of me wishes I was in Convo cause I've come to the conclusion that making this collusion constructed destruction in my mental health. A failed experiment is an effort you make to try something that is unlimitedly armed with the love from the up above, but when your experiment inherits the injection of rage in your blood, maybe you should excuse yourself and stop trying to make it work, when the makeup has run dry.

Ten steps

Ten steps to glory, that's a thousand trophies to the house of Tori's Bow down to the bobber with some money for some common ladies Me I'm pulling a Lazarus, saving up gasoline for the trip to China Use to be a quad but I'm feeling a strong trio, with homie and the queen Don't hate me, hate how the game is played it's checkered seven Several thousand people have havens about amnesia but I'm ten steps to living I'll down a million mountainside mints at your show, and sugar high myself to entertain I'll take a rain check on the shower, I must continue to fuck with Jamie Raising expectations, them motherfuckers creeping on to attack me But I've stacked some spaces between the wall to talk about our song It's wrong to miscommunicate that's why we can't go on that date Rate you out of one hundred girl you're a sold eleven, cavities from caviar And desperate for attention so I go on Skout to find a skinny later with some paper I ran out of tears when I was ten years old, nowadays you can find me hungover I'm the best of my generation, making bets on what colored underwear you're wearing in the bedroom, coming up from the soil in the renaissance to fool a face off for no more than two cents a fucker. All these fun fucks fucking my formation, that's my favorite heartstrings to play when you're heartsick from these heartbreaking unbound academic caterpillar sketches. Ten steps before I dunk myself onto the winning throne, where I'll throw a bone to the babies cause they seem to be getting incurable rabies, accumulate a calculation where the bitch never wins, and wishes come to function to find my buried treasure in a punching match that I won. Seven inch inactive, how the ladies gonna see that I must report it to the firefighters so they can fact check it with the bloody casket. Used to go twenty steps backwards when I saw boomerang bullets in my class that I created. Now I take ten steps forward cause I found God, and he's here to help me to try to kill a messenger who's acting like a puppy dog just to fit in, cause we stole his people away, so to stay cool he spreads some fake shit cause he a mother fucking snitch. Now I got the yams, I got Richard Simmons handspring and I'll fit it in my ten stripped polyester suit, that all the ladies say is a sweet ride for a goddamn pimp for a lifetime One step is I the God in the sky being the best in our skyline life and I got the skills for all that paperwork, rolling paper right cause I'm a people person fitting in to extra terrestrial extract sessions for a fellow privileged butler getting closer to the butter Two step is she, the issue, the extinct example of a diva elephant, she might be out of her element but she needs tissues to breathe, cause after all the time she complained she'll be dead in the sewer Three step is he the son, the misogynistic father that bothers the living hell out of everyone he meets, fuck him to a tee cause all he does is play God with his significant other who's republican as the others in the suburbs Four step is Bella won't you rub your Nutella into my you know what, cause you know us, it's out control intercourse that feels outdated but the doors are locked, so give me more before we snore until twelve P.M and the cops are knocking on our door Five step is Gianna the Rihanna of the seniors, God bless you you're the only one that I don't hate, a privilege to make some enterprising entertainment for you, my biggest fan no doubt about that I wish you the best of luck at Worcester State, may my friend bless you with a good life, so tight. Six step is Rocky, membership to asking girls out on Shrek dates, the only ogre giving oral any time soon is you and Kendra Rose when I hook you doves up in the summer morning of July Seven step is the betrayal, it's best to not suffer my institution with a forty eight caret caregiver who masters the art of deception. It's best by default to move on with my life, but the definition of myself is someone who sticks around even when I smell the scent of disgusting nastiness, ditching but I'll pitch my case or evermore I'll shut YOUR whole shit down Eight step is either which way, is it best to rest in paradise with parasites all over you while you're looking at Tom Ford Tuxedos, or is the better option to bet on a super operation to bowl all over competition in a call to rial dimensions? Sleep talking without a gate I'll video tape the whole thing to send to my therapist, she'll like the popping noise Nine step is encountering hipsters with trigonometry, trading poker chips, and power moves if you're so popular than make a loving gesture to a girl with some fantastic log in code, decorate a door for more makers of minutes so your Matrix idea can levitate into a diaristic ball and chain potential client teen that gives no damn about anything besides his Justin Beiber water bed Ten step is the animal. If we have to fetch with synonyms, and homophones to make a home satisfied than toss around the idea as God as the Zookeeper, and me is the lion. I am trained to be a beast, don't expect a day without some chaos. Simmer was the middle name of the hotline of the shaken anti christ chickens that will fuck their pants with a mittened teddy bear Rare bikinis at the magazine shop which sells magic offside vinyls for middle class entrepreneurs like Ryan Lapierre. Ditch an entourage, to go into a Montoya restaurateur monologging with seven people who externally and eternally encourage you to set a dream to fuck Kate Upton. Uptown girl don't go and cry, I'm straight fire but I'm more of the guy that takes the flames out. For fun I'll make another one die and urinate on the sidewalk jaywalking Beatles style with some real heroes. May not like my personality but that was my intern job, May 8th come and the job has just begun. Ten steps watch me loosen screws, the screen is mine, in screaming time

Paranoia, is love stronger than death?

She liked my Sherlock, I went to far and locked the page with paranoia Karnataka paranoid shit going on, she called me schizophrenic cause I was losing my marbles faster than when that entree came at the end of my last supper An average bitch learns how to do this crazy shit throughout pre teen, but the presumption was to love with ease. I loved her more than anything that's why we did a tango to Viva La Vida vividly and had some physically satisfying sex in the shower Stupidest question I was asked was where I got my paranoia from, bitch it's cause you fucked with my emotional gate, now the gateway is jittery and it won't cool down The lens on paper says to strike a starting point with a racetrack and a racer that is this so called legend, I learned to be Mr. Make believe just to forever forget a past that hurricanes my heart with a passion Mariah Carey Karaoke at the Irish bar, no incidents involved cause inside your shell is that coffee scented marker from the Valley. You looking at me with these dirty eyes and the edges that make me get all nervous, won't you stop it. I wonder numerically were you just here to design me, and at the end tear me apart with all your mighty. If I gotta go make an alliance, then call up people who have at least two brain cells. All these games are making me paranoid, a one night stand turning into a three month love fest in the matter of a minute. Bitch what do you want me to do, I won't be your Jake Ford stereotype I can open a fucking door. It ain't easy creating one thousand deaths to spare a thousand pyramids. Teaching me to myself not some mistake that can't feed a deed without being syntactically puppy dogged. Dark thoughts across my brain, it's complicated but nothing can stop the feeling of being lost, lady bought me a Ferrari, gotta stop before lose Jordan Warner is a prototype, stereotypical relationships that's not my thing I'd rather wait until my mail comes in. Dirty dancing alone is fine for now, just wait until a woman gonna love you. I miss the touch, and the feeling of someone that cares about you. Oh why, oh why do you gotta fuck it up, go through hell and back because of your dilemma, did you think that this was gonna happen I've gone too crazy, now I'm heading towards nowhere at this show that we call staged poultry. If I gotta be solo I'll rock that style on the download, if there's a no show before my father's anniversary then I'll talk to God and drink Martinis to I drown with some homies that will stick with me. Fuck you, I'm not an operationist, I'm just an impressionist wearing Nikes. Rather be impressive than be dating some kind of misguided culture bat. All these things go right to the heart, that's why every fasting is so sensitive. Every sentence is some unethical white shit, shut the fuck up my fist is fully charged. I am capable of choosing what deal I want to take part in, it doesn't feel paranoia but the creek cracks when life gives you love lemons and your face feels unfelt for the first time since you were a firstborn. Three dimensional model I was in love with you, you were in line with the wet dreams that happened on the weekly, weekends are a little rough but the only credit that's being giving is the art of bicycling across an acoustic version. There's two versions, but the side that is going to be revealing itself on a permanent permit is the side that lets others capitalize the catalog color that they are choosing to friend because of their ancestry. Paranoid about what people are gonna think, but if I take her to my kingdom then maybe we can make some small talk. There's no sense of acting sensitive when every session is about some medical marijuana and therapy on Every Thursday. Death is coming later on, but is love stronger I think it is cause it ain't any better. Twenty different procedures just to find a mistress to divorce in thirteen years. I don't wanna be in court, I wanna have a daughter. I don't want to fight with four different women I want one that understands that I'm not perfect. Perfection is reality but if we can bedroom talk for two hours making the best sex I guess I'm okay with that. Rhythm in the beginning is quite easy, but when the sparkle drowns itself in the Atlantic that's when a rough patch settles and it's not pretty. Fantasizing about Las Vegas, and months of wedding planning, I could write an essay about a perfect woman. Anytime we wanna be Cleopatra, then let's keystone the ignition and find a pretty picture so we can solve it piece by piece, if this is love than this is strong, I need to love I'll let it ride. High priced tattoos all over her freckled neck, I like that a put a golden necklace with your name on it, that makes you so attractive. Just don't use me because my butterflies are punching my stomach because I'm scared of what might happen, if our love runs out and the money goes to salvage. Holy shit what's your name, I better flirt like Ryan Lapierre cause this lady mighty fine. She's an archeologist that's into film, this is the girl I want to make my wife. So now we're going at it in the bedroom saying good morning when it's still dark outside, outsiders who don't got no Oscar, if we have a fancy dinner I'll show you what's down under. No Vodka needed, no needles in use because we love each other, if this is what it feels like I'll put a ring on her middle at the age of 22, to spend my life with her even if I'm near broke after college At some point we have to sacrifice our soul to the light, doesn't matter what age when your time is up, you can't fight it cause it's no option. It's okay for your eyes to well up, and upload sadness into something so vial, but don't be scared it's okay to believe, because when you reach out never look back, and believe in yourself.

Swim with the fishes ( God said)

Renegade I hate the tribesmen I wanna real estate that gives us pension, can I have your permission to get a license and drive late at night cause I got nothing to do? Broken hearted by my Holy Grail, hold the liquor we have to see what is in store. If I die tonight then temple come my allowance is sunk, it will suck when it's raining heavily across the crescent, even the ones against me could leave some memories God said for me to Swim with the fishes cause I got fucked by someone's murder weapon, I didn't think I'd die with someone out to get me, something's in the water it's commonly found as granite I'd defy gravity if I defended my moral rights. God is right he did that, he's done it, I think if I do the things that he'd accomplished, then I'd make my future happen. If I didn't somehow make it work, my will is pointless when no one's praying for the homie giving out free lottery tickets. Living the good life with the magnitude within an appropriate manhunt, what's the matter with these people no thesis longer than eighteen kilos, I'm a rider good riddance my good friend. The blood is on the cross, and crossroads are cracking that's the communion I created. The colony is clockwork by the time we leave the circus, my circumference will be empty. Talk to God every day, confession every Friday we do our own thing, partnership that's defying odd-work. If hell was on Earth then wouldn't everyone breathe the same, if Heaven was here would our love stay the same as our plan. Please pass the grape wine, and a blue pill to bottle in and drink it when I'm lonely. The planet's full of Uranium and sky, let's give pills just so storylines can end. Steroid junked by a jury full of starships, weed metamorphosing in the air that's just the army of blondes, deadliest death done to silencers and broken headlights that's threatening to someone who hasn't throughly thought it through. Swim with the Fishes God said, I expect a pretty painting to be painted by an artist of I and the colors in one hundred years from now. It's professional to offer up some assistance when the advice your being given is armature level arbitrage. The obituary is in the paper now I gotta get down on my knees and start praying. God said there is different silver linings, so I took a source material to step my game up and instead of shooting the idea down I brought my own way into the inside. Chosen Chocking on by with a villainous violinist who strums her own swan song, when she gets rejected by a fellow abuser. Some choose the route of the right, and I gotta fight to go to the left, where all my lobbies are. Deathly sentence by overturn law enforcement, and beautiful mermaids. Lifeline love that's what we loved talking about in a radically tab inoffensive jungle. Not high on scenting, high on passion, when I start swimming in the pond that's when I'll allow you to create different wavelengths. Eavesdropping in a shack, that's where I'll be laid to rest, scene one and action that'd another paycheck for the girlfriend. It ain't party time when your relationship ain't perfect, the chick goes to tennis tournaments but if I have to strategize I can cancel my complaint card and complete in my motherland. Land mother don't day the wind when all you want is the sun, I promise to order balanced weather, from land and sea I will feel the need to raise the sand. Down in lovers lane I'll be the lion. I'd take my love by the hand, she might be invisible but it's what I got above. Going natural instead of the campy suit, I'm going out with my hands held high, my heart pounding even after the murder, next is the search party for my father. Nothing would make me more thrilled than to hug him one more time, never got the chance to tell him I love you. I can feel the lust it's like a magnet, building a better future for my conscience making connections. I'm willing to put the lonely days behind us, to lay you down from keeping you from feeling sad and breathless. Don't pray for the worst, freezing from kinetic killings that's happening to our renegades. Renew before I, cause I'm worrying the haunt has come. Comeback coming I am Lazarus, can't even tell the difference Idris and Matthew please come and find me, I'll play you by the fiddle and invertebrate an investment sticking stocks seeming inefficient from all the money that you're collecting, when all she wants to do is kick the bucket and run from troubling Ricardo the bartender from the ground under, cause all my barriers are cracked and the walls are alcoholic. Some scholar told me to push, and I'm pushing even though eventually I'd rather pull. A handout to some certain university called Harvard, I'll buy you a necklace before you head out the door. Swim with the fishes God said, when you do swim with the fishes remember to do the butterfly they'd satisfy there beliefs to see another butterfly. That sounds orange, but I'll keel snorting red to keep on moving on, embracing loses but when the win comes I will create. Paris and fashion in foursomes can fuck forgiveness but I will never forget. Hiding under the turtleneck if it's my turn to go, I'm going to die swinging from the fences. Within seconds of a time the round of applause gets smaller and smaller. Welcome to the splash zone don't you think this immaculate. Racketing you to go dial your friends in your rocket. Overdose commercials coming to a Dodge car near you, chargers fuck the swimming, same shirt but feeling shirtless to cover my eyes in the shower, don't hurt yourself it's not your turn to die, fierce fish fight eyes open wide, when will you cut your shit, and choose to come back. Don't fade my baton I wasn't finished with my screenplay. Key to my heart feeling the form that's some polished excellence. Experience delusion within five names I care for. I don't wanna die, I don't wanna swim with the fishes, God I love you do this favor. During the storm I never lost who I was

Savage patch kids

Everyone in June to September lived in my internal reality. The realization that I'm fucking up what the fuck is this? No future for the two of us, living separate lives without each other at this point I've gotten over it. Ice skating rinks are totally overrated, drama and a bunch of bullshit I'll pay God a couple hundred bucks to get me out of here. Lying about who knows what on a daily basis, attention span directed towards inaccuracies and misinformation. She was innocent, she had the right to say good riddance and goodbye to me. Never got the chance to express myself, I was rocking in mid June, and I fucked it up I should've took it slower, savage patch kids for life was the deal, didn't even last a year isn't that shame. I regret in sorrow every day thinking about what I did wrong to cause the dysfunction. No Ice Cream meet, or blueberry drinks can save the drunken days chatting about our personal secrets, safety was a key, but I realized I was in love and I took it too far by doing phony shit, texting clingy messages making mistakes on an hourly basis. Not only one I loss but I lost the sister too, months of healing I'm all healed I just need a minute to clear some shit up. Put the thing to sleep on the fifteenth, I beg and pleaded but there was nothing I could do, adapted too lately, realizing all the bloody shit I created at the end of the friendship. All I wanted to do was to help, and all I did was create more of a train wreck. We were tangoing with love in the beginning, but towards the end it was theoretically destroyed. I lied my way to the end, and the ending wasn't so pretty. Apology to her, I'm aware of these flaws. Issues in the summertime I got them all dealt with. The boat was too big, but my heart was to fixated on something that would never happen. Can't even look at sour patch kids the same way again, or listen to renegades without skipping the radio station. Real talk I used to be your number one homie, and now I'm the number one loner with no one but a bitch baby, and a crack audit who uses slang to fit in. Don't forget the good times we shared, I know I won't, even the thirty viewers on the channel won't, I hope I took care of you when you were in peril that's all I care about, because your perfection was the only thing I wanted. One wish it would be to take it all back, and pretend we didn't know each other just to start all over, because this shit went all unorthodox, I may not be a soccer player but I can rock it with my personality, I know I sucked at Town of Salem but all I cared about was you. Paranoid about losing the savage patch kid, that I couldn't focus on the finer things in life. That's what happens when you fall in love and can't get out of a delusion trap. You demolished two bitches I was a proud brother, they were accusing you of shit and I tried to stand right by you. I threw away everything to be the other half of the patch, but all I came across as was a pathological liar ruining everything one day at time. Everything was going so well, you are the best person that I've ever met, I am the nightmare that concluded communism to cross a nation that we didn't sign up for. Stop, I loved you with the passion and laces. No other lady had the ability to make me cry with sincerity like you. Song after song, text after text, but fuck it's over Ryan, you are a great person and you deserve the best in the world. You'll be okay I promise and I'll be here every step of the way no matter what happens you and me will be bro and sis until the end. You're my best friend and you're always gonna be. You're a great person therefore you will get something great in return someday soon. Sleep well Ryan, I love you.

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