#Jeremy tries to say something serious and they basically just move on and don’t let him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kareniliana · 3 years

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Jeremy: Meet Again

A//N: a little different and low key long. not really first time meeting but you'll see the connection when you read it. Also if you want to request something just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one!

xx Karebear 💛🧸

Being a sixteen year old in high school is stressful enough but being a sixteen year old witch, with little to no friends and absentee parents makes it harder for you to get your emotions in check. But you were able to find something that helps calm you, weed. You don’t necessarily need it but when the moon is full, your powers are enhanced and a little out of control.

okay that's a little bit a lie, they become too much for you to control. Thats where the amazing marijuana plant comes in handy, it calms your anger. You've always had problems controlling your anger. At one point your parent’s noticed too many holes in the walls of your personal rage room and sent you to anger management.

It helped for a few weeks but when the full moon was in effect, all that progress- everything that you learned, it went down the drain. You slowly became more and more angry and uncontrolled during the day but at night. It only seemed to get worse for you.You don't sleep because it gets too hot upstairs. You go down to your basement, where your parents moved your rage room to, for this reason exactly. Over the night you continually get fed up and release the pain and anxiety and anger against the four walls of your rage room. You thought you were helpless and a waste of energy to help.

You were contemplating on your life, if it was ever even worth the trouble to get to know or help. Having no real friends doesn’t help either. As you lit up a joint in the stoner pit you see the regular groups of people who use drugs to escape from everything but that wasn’t you. You weren’t escaping reality, you were reverting back to the median. Your emotions sometimes gets the best of you and with your magic you start chaos.

“Y/n Y/l/n” Your one and basically only friend comes up to you and sits with you before school starts.

“Jeremy Gilbert, to what do I owe the pleasure” you joked and laughed as you passed the small joint to Jer.

“So I found some stuff out these past few weeks. I just need someone to talk to.” He said almost awkwardly, hitting the J and passing it back to you. You looked into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, almost getting lost in them. You shake your head of any intimate visuals your brain is coming up with.

Jer smirks, almost as if he knows about your little crush for him. “but uh, You cannot tell anyone, not a single soul.” He looks at you with soft and adoring eyes, almost making you think maybe he likes you too?

“Who am I going to tell, my weed?” You joke, lifting the joint to your lips. “Seriously though, what is it?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you with worried eyes, “Vampires and werewolves and witches- they exist. They’re real, we have students who are supernatural creatures.” He drops the bomb, studying you for any kind of reaction. You held a straight face, you’re a witch. But you didn’t know about werewolves and vampires, you really only know about witches because why the hell else would you research more on the supernatural spectrum?

“You can’t be serious Jer.” You stared into his eyes looking for a hint of dishonesty, but he wasn’t budging.

“Why would I lie to you? We think someone here is a new incoming witch, and we need to find them and help get their magic under control before something big happens.” His voice sounds worried and caring but who else here is a witch.

“What makes you think that?” You asked, a little worried because you can admit sometimes you lose control at school but you never knew if it was noticeable or not. You’re a loner, no one really cares if you’re having a panic attack or whatnot.

“You cannot tell me you haven’t noticed all the bizarre shit that’s been happening here? Just yesterday before lunch everyones locker in the halls opened. Everyone heard the sound of them opening simultaneously, it sounded like a canon!” You realized you were the witch they were looking for, you had birthday dinner set with your parents but they called you during class to inform you they were sent on a business trip to New York for a client. Which meant they were canceling on you. For the third birthday in a row. You lost control of your emotions and you let it out as a scream, you heard the echo of the lockers burst open from the basement of the school.

“A few days ago Stefan and Caroline were mind tased that only a witch can do. And-” Jeremy looking to the two vampire from a few yards away, your face tinging with guilt, every time you went to let your anger out, you did something to the school or something around you.

“-Wait, why only Stefan and Caroline? Are they..” you interrupted.

“Vampires. Luckily no one else was in the halls...” your head falls in disappointment, a frown and sad eyes very evident. Jeremy looks back over to you, instantly concerning himself.

“Whats wrong? Wait, hey Y/n, what happened?” Jeremys hand reaches for your face, lifting your head to look at him. Tears formed, threatening to spill out. Guilt was written all over your face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone I swear I just get so angry. I- I -” Your bottom lip started to quiver, almost sobbing you looked over to the vampires, “I’m really really sorry.”

“Hey wait, what are you...” He tried comforting you as he realized it was you they are looking for. “oh... it- it’s you. You're the witch.” You nodded your head, leaning away from him. He’s gonna see you differently now. He’s gonna hate you. He’s gonna leave, and you'll be all alone... your breath quickly increased, becoming into a panic attack and it’s beginning to become too overwhelming.

As your breathing increases, clouds roll in slowly covering the sun, then the wind starts raging around you all, you were doing this without even realizing it. It scared you more.

“Y/n? No, hey hey its okay.” he tried reaching for you, but you were too fast. Jumping off the deck and running to your car. Then suddenly the clouds begins to crack with thunder, you can see the lightning across the clouds, ready to strike the earth.

You saw Stefan and Caroline begin to run to you but without really thinking you wave your hand at them, sending them flying into a bus. You ran without a second look back. Getting to your car and driving home, down the lonely winding road to your driveway, passing other driveways to the very few neighbors you have.

“Okay, calm yourself!” You shouted at yourself as you hit the steering wheel, causing the storm to hail down rain. Suddenly you got the feeling os pins and needles all throughout your body, every muscle you felt a stab or slicing. You can feel your skin warming up.

“No, no, no, no, no, this cannot be happening!” You gripped the wheel and let all hell loose, screaming at the top of the lungs. A wave of power and force struck out from your body, feeling a wave of calmness come over you. You stopped the car, keeping your eyes closed hoping you were able to hold back the storm in your brain and above you in the dark sky.

You got your breathing under control, opening your eyes you see the storm is rolling away, and the sun is shining through. You chuckled, you were able to pull it back. “I did it, I really did it?” You smiled at yourself, letting out a deep breath. You got out of the car to really look at the sky.

As you got out, you look ahead and see tire skid marks on the road, they look fresh. You following the trail to a crash and totaled car, thrown again a wall of trees. Bringing tears instantly to your eyes, you hurt someone.

“Please be alive, oh, please be alive!” You scream trying to open the door but it’s at a weird angle the side doors aren’t opening and you're not climbing the death trap to the top. You can see blood on the windshield and drivers window, anxiety making your hands begin to shake.

“Okay... Think! Think!” You yelled and hit at your head. “You're a Goddamn powerful witch, start acting like it!”

You took a deep breath, standing a few feet away. You concentrated all of your magic to lift and stabilize the wrecked vehicle. Closing your eyes and feeling the earths pull on the car resist you, smirking at the feeling of power for good and not an emotional outbreak.

“Y/n! Y/N!! WHERE ARE YOU?” Jeremy, Caroline and Stefan followed after you in Carolines car. Jeremy convinced Stefan to let him go look after you alone. You trust him, you know him, you don’t trust Stefan- you barely know him. And Caroline has a reputation, you make it your mission to avoid her.

You opened your eyes seeing the car is now on all four wheels, you exclaimed in excitement. “I’m here, their bleeding! Come help me!” you walked into view, he stood at the road near your car. Jeremy saw you emerge from the trees and ran to you.

“Help me get them out!” You didn’t even give Jeremy a chance to get to you before you sprinted to the car. You can’t be responsible for killing someone.

“What happened?” He asked as you try to pry the doors open.

“I happened! What else?!” You exclaimed as it finally gave in and opened. The bloody elderly man in the passengers seat had cut’s everywhere, he lifted his hand just for it to fall again, letting go of his last breath.

“No, no! Stefan!!” Jeremy screamed the second we got the door opened. The vampires showing up not even a second later. “Help him!”

Stefan listened for a heartbeat, but there was nothing. “I’m sorry, he’s gone.” Stefan says sadly.

“But, no...” You said sadly, “I killed him? I actually killed him?” You looked to Jer.

“Can you explain to me what kind of witch you are? ‘Cause I’ve never seen just one witch make that bad of a storm and especially not that fast.” Stefan asked nicely but worried. You looked to Stefan with a scrunched up face, wondering how he could jump from you killing an innocent man to your supernatural abilities. But it slowly made sense, he’s probably an older vampire than you thought and has more experience with this than you did.

Your face relaxed into a frown, “I don’t know, just a regular witch. I don’t even know that much. I don’t know anyone in my family who could be a witch. I have some control of it... except..” You sighed deeply, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

“Except when?” Stefan said a little more sternly than before, taking a step towards you. Caroline grabbed his arm holding him back and interrupting.

“This seems like a witch problem for Bonnie. She can help you get control, no matter what it is, we can help.” Caroline said with a nod and soft smile. You returned her a smile of your own.

“But what do we do now? About him?” You asked about the dead man in the totaled car. Stefan walked towards the door, seeing the man drenched in his own blood but none of the windows are broken.

You brought Stefan’s attention away, “What am I supposed to do? Should I turn myself in?”

“Y/n, when do you have the least amount of control?” He asked sternly and worried, like he was depending on my answer to be best case scenario.

You gulped loudly, “during the full moon” you muttered, everyones eyes on you. They looked confused yet scared.

“Y/n, look at him. Tell me, how did he die by this much blood loss without any broken windows, the car I trashed but the windows are for the most part intact.”He spoke softly, almost guiding me through his thought process. You looked up at him confused by the scene in front of you.

“What were you feeling when the accident happened?” Jeremy asked, almost catching on to what Stefan was trying to conclude.

“I... first, I felt this overwhelming feeling of fear and self anger. Then I felt almost like something was slicing into my muscles, kinda like pins and needles... And I was hot, like I kept trying to stay warm but I couldn’t...” You looked down before asking, “Instead of me feeling that pain, I passed it to him?”

Jer sighed sadly,“Yeah. but his body doesn't heal like yours, because he's human... and you’re...”

“A witch...” You finished, looking down with a frown on your face and sad eyes.

“And a werewolf.” Stefan added, causing your head to whip up at him. Confusion and sadness written on your face.

“What? Is that even possible?” You asked looking back and forth between Stefan and Jeremy.

“We’re not sure but if we’re right, you just triggered the curse.” Stefan said point-blank.

“No, I can’t be!” You raised your voice at Stefan.

“You have trouble controlling your anger, you lose control of your magic on the full moon during the day.” He said quickly, almost scared of you losing control again. “What happens at night? Huh?”

You thought back to those sleepless nights of complete chaos, you’re starting to think he’s right.

“Tonight’s a full moon. What can we do to help?” Caroline spoke up, worried for you.

“I need to figure out how to control it, what if now that I actually triggered it, it’s only worse from here?” You asked, worried out of your mind.

“Don’t think of it like that, I think you can do it. You just have to believe in yourself. Okay?” Jeremy brought his hands to your shoulders, comforting you. “Maybe now, you’re not bounded. You can shift and feel it instead of passing it on.”

Jeremy hugged you, trying his hardest to help keep you calm. He was worried for you. He was scared this would be too much for you and you’d end up hurting yourself instead.

“Okay, Jeremy get her out of here. We got this okay.” Stefan said, suggesting he would make it go away or at least make sure nothing points to you or Jeremy.

Jeremy takes you home, you showed him your rage room with all it’s damage and glory. He thought it would be best to stay here where you’re most comfortable and your parents were still out of town. Being worldly known defense lawyers means, business trips to New York or L.A. or Seattle. Really anywhere but Mystic Falls.

“Okay So I called Tyler and Bonnie. They should be here soon.” Jeremy sat down on the sofa with you, looking over to you. You sat up and looked confused to why you needed Tyler.

“He’s a werewolf, he can help guide you through the shift. He’s probably going to say something like ‘accept the pain’ blah blah.” He joked, making you laugh a little.

“Can you stay with me?” You asked shyly, after the laughter died down a little.

“You sure?” He asked looking at you with worried but loving eyes, getting lost in your y/e/c eyes.

“I’m basically going to go through the shift with strangers, I don’t think I could do it without you there. But if you don’t feel safe-”

“I’ll stay” His hand reached for yours, giving it a little squeeze. “You need me, I’m not leaving.”

You looked up from your hands to his eyes, you smile softly. You opened your mouth to say something but then the doorbell goes off. Almost scaring you both, you go to the door. Opening it to see Tyler Lockwood and Bonnie Bennett. You never in your life expected to ever see them at your front door, let alone being the supernatural creatures that they are. Crazy how life turns when you found out you're not human.

You showed them your rage room, and ensured them that your parents will not be in town for a few days. Then Tyler pulled out sets of chains and some restraining equipment, Tyler drilled anchor points on three of the wall and ground. Bonnie began to assemble the wrist clasps and what looked like a collar but metal. This all began to start to scare you and you could feel your magic begin to storm. But shortly after the magic spark, you could feel your body radiate extreme heat. Jeremy was helping Tyler connect the chains to the anchor points. You stood there confused, in pain and beginning to lose yourself. But then you’d catch a glimpse of Jeremy and you came back to the median. When this cycle of pain and anxiety came, you'd look to Jeremy and you'd look back to you with a smile, and you seemed to get control.

Until suddenly, your bones begin to break. You screamed in pain and fell down to the floor. “Jer!”

“It’s starting already?! But the moon isn’t even at in effect yet!” Tyler exclaimed, helping you get up from the floor.

“Oh yeah? Well why did it start nearly an hour ago! Ahh!” Your arm breaks, you’re a panting sweaty mess. Tyler, Bonnie and Jeremy are trying chain you up but it’s a little difficult when you’re in the middle of shifting. Then the agonizing pain of your fangs coming out causes you to roar in pain, your eyes glowing an iridescent yellow. Claws and wolf hair growing out of everywhere.

Tyler pushed Jeremy towards the wall, getting him out of harms way. Jeremy watched in amazement, he’s never seen a shift like this one. It was oddly controlled. You moved as if you’ve done this before, but everyone knows you haven’t. Jeremy didn’t realize he was the reason why she was so relaxed and accepting, he would look at you and you’d remember what he said. just believe in yourself.

Bonnie and Tyler moved back once they finally closed the last cuff. You roared, but held onto your humanity, you stayed in this half way form, holding Jeremy’s gaze.

“Yeah that's it Y/n, you got it. Just accept it, embrace it, don’t fight it. Okay?” Jeremys calm voice led you do letting go of your fears and you let yourself finish your shift. Your clothes ripped into shreds as you transformed into a white wolf with your bright iridescent eyes- even your fur seemed to glow a yellow tint. You glowed, truly glowed. The three of them stared in amazement, this was their first time experiencing something so magical and boundless.

Once they realized you were shifting back to human they left the room for you and bonnie, she brought down some clothes of yours that weren’t shredded to pieces. She released you from the restraints and handed you the clean clothes. As you got dressed you talked about your magic and how in control you seemed, she goes on to say that maybe your problem isn’t losing the control it’s that you get scared and make yourself lose it. You’re scared of what embracing the magic can do to you. She mentioned she also was scared of fully embracing it and letting herself be powerful.

“Last night you were too focused on your shift that your magic was controlled. You never wavered. You should be proud of yourself.” Bonnie praised you and had left a few spell books with you to help you get comfortable using your magic.

You followed after Bonnie to the front door, walking Tyler and her out. “Thanks for everything, I know who to call if I’m in trouble with the shift.”

“Call me for anything.” Bonnie smiled and got into her car, Tyler opening the door and nodding at you before getting in. He rolled the window down.

“You got this, if you ever need anyone to let off some steam, come to me. We can figure out healthy ways to release that anger.” Tyler waved and they were off. Jeremy came out from the bathroom, grabbing his jacket.

“I have to get home to shower before school.” He pulled his phone out as he received a text from Elena. You turned around as you heard her car pull up before you can see it. This werewolf hearing is gonna take a while to get used to.

“I’ll see you there?” He asked, worried you weren’t going to school.

“Yeah, of course. I- I feel good. I think I got a good handle on it now.” You smiled proudly in yourself. He smiled with you.

“I’m proud of you too.” He went down the steps and climbed into his sisters car, as they drove off you could hear Elena tease Jeremy about you.

You ran upstairs getting to finally shower off this exhaustion and soreness, shifting was painful but once you’re through it, it feels like a huge relief. You’re at peace and calmed. but now you’re back to human form, and it’s like your personalities of each are at each others neck. You were able to control it and keep them at bay. You weren’t helpless, you’re not a lost cause. You were helped, after all those terrible sleepless nights and the pain, the feeling of being alone in your pain and agony. You were found, you found yourself. You’re more you than you’ve been.

You cleaned up your rage room and put a lock on it, that way your parents don’t get curious and check it out- not that they have but just a precaution. Getting everything locked up and squared away you got int your car and went to school, driving past the site of the accident there was police tape a little ways into the woods. Stefan and Caroline had told the sheriff the truth, seeing as she knew about the supernaturals and helped cover up some major instances. Much like the accident you caused, which you will never stop feeling bad about. You don’t think you’ll be able to look at a human life the same again. Because you had to take a life to finally feel free and like yourself. You never knew being a were-witch would be the answer to your emotional health.

You pulled into a parking spot, getting your things together before getting out. Seeing Jeremy leaning on a tree, waiting for you nearby. You smiled at him and walked to him.

“You seem different.” Jeremy pointed out once you reached him. You smiled up at him.

“Yeah I feel different. I don’t feel like the same Y/n as before.” You chuckled, embracing yourself for the first time is empowering.

“In that case. Hi, I’m Jeremy and I'm a Human.” Jeremy held his hand out, meeting you all over again.

You laughed and played along, “Hi Jeremy, I’m Y/n. A Were-witch.” You giggled, feeling a sense of self.

You gave him your hand, not letting go of your gaze. He smiled at you and pulled you into a hug.

#jeremy gilbert #jeremy x reader #jeremy gilbert x reader #the vampire diaries #tvd x reader #tvd #the vampire diares imagine

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6rookie-writer0110 · 4 years

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I don't know. Might further the plot.?

Male Reader x Avengers Cast

Request- Do you think you could make a Avengers cast X Male reader & his talking about his past & saying his been in juvenile detention & jail cause he had a rough childhood & his friend (oc) always helped him and stayed by his side & helped him get into drama class & he was good at it & now his new movie is coming out & it's about helping his character with his depression, suicidal thoughts & he meets his love interest who becomes his girlfriend in real life & her character helps him through depression

Your childhood was rough because your father would hit you physically and mentally abuse you. Your mother would do the same, also she would call you horrible names. Your father is known for selling drugs and always gambling. Your mother is a drunk and always high on drugs. You barely went to school and if you did you would cause problems.

You have always been on a rough path, your rap sheet is long as the train tracks. You didn't go to school often because you were in juvenile detention, many people gave up on you. When your turned eighteenth, you were in and out of jail. Since your parents didn't care for you they didn't pay for your bail. The longest sentence you did in prison was eight years.

After getting out of prison, you packed what you had left, took the van, and stole from your parents. You stole your dad’s pot to make quick cash.

As days went on you slept in your van. You would sell pot, with that money you would buy food and fill up the van. It's the middle of the night and you are sleeping, your best friend John Krasinski, banged on the van. You opened the door and you tackled him to the ground.

”Dude it's me!!!” John yelled.

You were about to punch him.

”What the fuck!?” You yelled.

You get off him and he gets off the ground.

”You almost gave a heart attack!!” You yelled.

It's freezing because it's November.

”I heard what happened. I came to get you and tell you to move in with me” John said.

You and John Krasinski have been friends for a long time. You trust him and only him. He has been there for you many times and never left your side.

”I don't know men. I can't even pay rent on time and I won't get a job from nine to five” You said.

”Just move in before you freeze to death,” John said.

”Fine,” You said.

-----

The next day, you start to help John run his lines. He is trying out for a role on a show called the office. You always help him run his lines, even in high school when he tried to the school play. He told you to try out for the school play but you said no.

”Y/N, you should really get into acting. You are really good and you should think about being an actor” John said.

”Don’t lie to me,” You said.

”I’m serious. With more training then you will become a better actor. I think you should take a shot at it. Now you are not doing anything with your life, take a chance” John said.

You have always been into acting but never took it seriously. You start to think and you are unsure what he said.

”I will think about it,” You said.

”Okay. Give me a ride?” John said.

”Yeah sure,” You said.

John goes to acting classes also he pays for you to go. At first, you hesitated to go but you didn't have money to pay for the classes. But you promised him that you will pay him back later on.

✧ ✯ ✧ ✫

John has been helping you become a better actor. But he can't help all the time because he has his own life. You get one role for acting but it was to be an extra, you took it paid $200.

You tried out for a role to start in an Iron man movie, it was for a small role but you didn't get it. And you can't afford to do headshots.

”What’s your name?” He asked.

”Y/N... I really like your movies, ” You said.

”I saw your audition. I see you have potential but you need acting lessons” Robert said.

”I can't afford it. Most times, I sleep in my van and doing random jobs” You said.

You watched every single movie that Robert Downey Jr. Did.

”I will help you and I will be your mentor,” Robert said.

”No way!!” You sad very loud.

You can't stop smiling and he is serious. You are still speechless and can't stop smiling. Later, you told John about it and he is happy for you. Robert will let you live with him but you told him, to repay him back you will do chores around the house.

-----

You are happy that you get to sleep in a new bed. Every day he gives you lessons for acting. He tells how to bring the characters to life and cry on cue. You always run lines with him and he tells you what you do wrong.

” Besides my best friend, you are the only one who ever believed in me,” You said.

He hugged you and you did cry a little bit, he starts to rub your back.

”It’s okay. Let it all out. You are a good person, you are the only one that has control for your future” Robert said.

You wipe the tears away.

”That means a lot,” You said with a small smile.

✧ ✯ ✧ ✫

You have been getting small roles on tv shows and some indie movies. You always give it your all and you keep improving in each role you get.

You got your big break to appear in The Avengers in the first movie. You got the role of Marcus "Marc" Milton aka Hyperion.

Hyperion possesses great physical strength. Between 75 and 100 tons. Marcus Milton was able to hold two piles of the earth apart to prevent them from colliding with each other for a period of time, confront the Hulk blow-for-blow until the Hulk reverted back to human form. He also does not require air, food, or water to survive as long as his body absorbs Solar energy. Also, he is a Trucker, adventurer, vigilante, former teacher.

---

But you didn't have a role in Avengers: Age of Ultron. For the first movie, you invited John to the movie premiere.

With the cast, you get along with them really well. Sometimes play pranks each other, make each other laugh during sets, and more. You and Robert still have a good relationship, he is still your mentor. John always supports you in any role you get. During an interview, you said you hope gets a role in a Marvel movie.

✧ ✯ ✧ ✫

You decided to take a chance to make your own movie. It took a while for your script to be completed. You meet Elizabeth Olsen for the first time and she got the lead role. She will play your love interest in the movie.

While shooting the movie during sets and offset, you and Elizabeth would spend time together. She does invite you to her house and you always yes. Always making each other laugh and you like to stare at her green eyes.

”You should help me cook more often,” Elizabeth said.

You laughed.

”Only to help you. My parents never taught me how to cook or taught me anything positive” You said.

”You still don't talk to your parents?” Elizabeth asked.

”No. They did contact me two months ago, pretending they care about me. They only called because I am famous. I don't want to give them a second chance, they made my childhood a living hell” You said.

She hugged you and it caught you off guard, but you did hug her back. Later, you and Elizabeth eat dinner outside in the backyard and kept talking. Later, she taught you how to make smores and you love it.

-----

You and Elizabeth go to the beach because it's very hot in California. You start to help put sunblock on Elizabeth’s back and the paparazzi take pictures of everything.

You told her you don't know how to swim, she decided to teach you how to swim. She teaches you the basics and how to breathe underwater. You come out of the water and you start to cough. She starts to pat your back.

”Did you swallow the water?” Elizabeth asked.

You nod and coughed again.

”Y-yeah. It's hard to breathe underwater” You sad.

”It’s not and I will keep teaching you,” Elizabeth said.

Again she teaches you how to breathe underwater. The paparazzi take pictures of when she kissed you.

----

Working on a movie that is dark, you and Elizabeth try to make each other laugh. She would take pictures with you and post it on her Instagram account. You are sitting down on your chair and you are using your phone. She takes a picture of you and writes something.

So cute when he is focused 😍

✧ ✯ ✧ ✫

You did appear in the other movies Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame. Now you go on promo tours with the cast, it's always fun with them. You did talk about your character Hyperion.

”i will appear in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Loki. But I won't say what will happen for now” You said.

”Can you tell us about your new movie?” He asked.

You nod.

”My character has depression and he is suicidal. He meets his love interest who becomes his girlfriend, who is played by, Elizabeth Olsen and her character helps him through everything. It's hard for him to believe that anyone truly cares for him and she proves that she does care for him. Robert also worked on the movie has a co-writer and producer” You said.

”Is everyone invited to the movie premiere?” He asked.

”Of course not. I don't get along with them, they are such divas and horrible to work with” You joked.

Everyone starts to laugh.

”Why are you laughing? It's true” You said.

”I hate Y/N, I'm so happy I won't see him again. And I won't go to his movie premiere” Scarlett Johansson joked.

”I agree with her” Chris Evans joked.

”You have to tell us. Are you really Elizabeth Olsen’s boyfriend?” He asked.

”I knew you two were going to end up dating,” Jeremy said.

”Is it true?” He asked.

”Yeah-”

”How did you even ask her to be your girlfriend?” Mark asked.

”She lost a bet in Uno, duh. How else I would be her boyfriend” and you are serious about it.

That didn't happen.

----

You are finally home and Elizabeth is staying the night over. You do enjoy cooking together with her. You and Elizabeth watch the new movie Scoob while eating dinner.

”I saw the interview,” Elizabeth said.

”What do you think?” You asked.

She laughed and drinks her wine.

”Can't believe I lost in Uno and we are stuck together” Elizabeth teased.

You and Elizabeth laughed.

”You could have won if cheated but it's not my fault you lost” You winked.

”You are such a doofus” Elizabeth laughed.

You laughed too. Elizabeth again stole a hoodie from you. It's cold and she loves wearing your hoodies, you like how she looks in it so you don't say anything about it.

✧ ✯ ✧ ✫

Since you said Elizabeth lost in Uno, when she does interviews they ask her about it. She goes along with it.

The night of the movie premiere, Robert and the others arrived to support you. Everyone posed for the cameras, you are not serious because you are making everyone laugh.

#marvel imagine #Male Reader x Avengers Cast #avengers imagine #elizabeth olsen x male reader #elizabeth olsen imagine

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loverdrew · 4 years

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Promise, You Won’t Fall In Love With Me

He never knew love. He never understood relationships. He never imagined his life after high school or outside of his fame. She was the opposite. She deeply loved her family, she had ambition, intelligence and drive. They were the complete opposite, but together, they wouldn’t know what to do without each other.

Inspired by the movie A Walk To Remember.

Senior year. The year all the students turn 18, throw the wildest parties, the lifelong dreams of getting acceptance letters from their dream college. However, the Ethan Dolan didn’t have to worry about that one bit. He already had a future. He would continue making video comedy content online for his millions of girl fans that adored his soft eyes and bright smile. After this year he would move to California to pursue even bigger dreams, leaving his heart in New Jersey.

The hallways and outside the school yard filled with laughter, hugs, girls wearing close to nothing, and the guys drooling over them. Ethan walked in holding his football, jersey on full display, taking in the last first day of any schooling he’d ever get.

“My boys!” One of his friends, Jason, exclaimed. He hugged both Grayson and Ethan and put both arms around them walking into school. “This going to be the best year yet?”

“Oh you know it! The parties, the easy classes, the girls!” Grayson rubbed his hands together and laughed.

Ethan’s laughed along with his friends walking into the building, when the most unexpected girl caught his eye at her locker. It was Y/N. He had known her since kindergarten, she always wore the same type of outfit: a pastel skirt to her knees and a blouse with the same beige knitted sweater. Her hair always out of her face either in a ponytail or behind her ears, and she wore a brown shoulder bag to carry her books. They never particularly talked or even hung out together, but he somehow knew everything superficial about her. She never paid him any attention, except in class when he tried to be disruptive on purpose. He weirdly wished she would pay attention then. But he’s hooked up with prettier girls than her, so she wasn’t one to be upset over, right?

“Ethan Dolan, to the principals office. Ethan Grant Dolan, please come to the principals office.” They all heard, even Y/N. Their eyes met for a split second, before she closed her locker and headed to home period.

“Damn dude, trouble on the first day?” Jason joked.

“Shut up man. You know I’m the model student.” He smirked, shaking hands with his friends before headed to the office, which happened to be right across from Y/N’s home period, not like he noticed. He swiftly walked into the office and sat in the chair in front of principle Henderson, who closed the door with a stern look on his face.

“Ethan, what did I tell you about getting into trouble again.” He crossed his arms.

“Principle Henderson, I don’t know what you mean but I have been an angel since last semester, haven’t I?” He flashed that boyish smile of his that got him out of every situation, just not this one.

The principle proceeds to pull out 5 beer bottles and 2 bitter nubs of used joints. Ethan stiffened, his mouth running dry.

“I have no idea what those are.” He said quietly.

“Cut the act Dolan. Along with drinking and smoking on school property, you’re on the verge of not graduating. You have a combined GPA of 2.3. You need at least a 2.9 to graduate. Now I could expel you and kick you off the football team now...” Ethan begins to worry sit up straight, trying not to believe this could be true. “But I won’t.” Ethan looked up at him with a big sigh, eyes falling shut.

“Thank you, thank you so much Mr.Henderson I promise I’ll be even better-”

“You didn’t let me finish. Instead of doing all that, you’re going to be doing something for me. You will get a tutor which I will assign to you, and you’ll be spending time after school participating in our schools fall play.”

“Oh cmon Mr. Henderson you can’t be serious. I can’t act, at all.”

“You acted like you didn’t know where that bottle came from. And now you’ll act as the prince in our schools production of Beauty and the Beast.” Ethan struggled with the principles decisions, but if he didn’t do it he would’ve been destroyed having to give up his friends and football.

“When do rehearsals start.” He said plainly.

______

At lunch, instead of being in the lunchroom with his group of friends laughing and being dorks together, he was stuck in the library for the next 45 minutes, waiting for whoever his new tutor is. He tapped his pencil impatiently. All he had to do was pass English and Government/Economics with at least a 75% and he’d be golden, but even he didn’t know how he could manage that. He looked around, and heard the library door open in front of him, revealing the golden eyed girl walking in with such ease. Her eyes found his and slightly pulled at her bag strings nervously. He sighed in disbelief, of course the girl with straight A’s, captain of the science club and the church singer was his tutor.

“Hi Ethan. I’m Y/N, your tutor for this semester.” She said in a soft voice just above a whisper. “Today we’re just going over basics explained in the syllabus but it won’t take long, maybe 25 minutes so you’ll be able to run off with your friends.” She took a seat in front of him, opening up the Government textbook and her notebook with the classes syllabus laid out.

“I don’t need you to do me any favors okay, I just need to pass. I would think you’d want me here considering Ms. I’m-so-holy doesn’t have many friends.” He spat at her. Partially because he felt embarrassed, partially because he didn’t want to give her any impression that he in any way cared about her. It didn’t even phase her, being that her whole life was filled with constant ridicule and bullying. She stayed calm amidst his venomous words.

“The teachers are my friends, my church choir are my friends, my father is my friend. Please don’t pretend like you know me, Ethan. You haven’t even spoken to me ever.”

“But I’ve been going to school with you and living in the same neighborhood as you since we were 5. Your father is a prodigious doctor that always goes to church to watch you sing. You’ve lived in the same white house with the pink flowers surrounding the white painted porch. You always wear pastel colors because you like to be girly but don’t want attention. You started putting your hand back in middle school because it always got in your face when you were studying. I know you Y/N. Don’t act like you don’t know me either.”

“I know you Ethan. Which means I know you’re capable of doing greater things than being the stereotypical jock. You’re successful and talented and smart, learn to use it. Now let’s get started.” She said without even looking at him, and staring daggers into her book.

_____

After school, Ethan trudged his way to the schools theatre, where everyone would be meeting up for the parts and the production of the play. No surprise that Y/N was there, script in hand near the piano, while someone playing ‘Beauty and the Beast’, and she hummed along. The stage lights somehow made her skin shine brighter, and her hair glisten. He scoffed, and sat in the 3rd row, seeing all of the theatre nerds gather with smiling faces ready to start production.

“Alright everyone settle down. We are going to cast roles right now so listen up!” Ms. Davida clapped her hands and stood in front of the stage.

“For the role of Lumiere and Cogsworth, Louis and Jeremy! Mrs. Potts goes to Claira, Gaston goes to Derrick, Belle goes to of course, Y/N, and The Beast is played by the newest member to theatre Mr. Ethan Dolan.” Ethan knew he would get the lead, but Y/N did not. Her eyes spread wide, whites fully visible as her grip on her script tightened just slightly, the realization that she’d have to play his princess. She could barely handle his demeanor during tutoring, but in something that she loves to do she would only hope he wouldn’t ruin it for her.

“Opening night is in exactly 3 months just before Christmas break, so that means you’ll all need to work hard and together to make this production amazing but I believe in you all. So let’s get right to it! Ethan, Y/N on the stage please we will be starting with the scene when Belle and the Beast argue, right after he saves her from the wolves. Feel the anger, feel the frustration.” She had that typical musical theatre teacher ‘passion voice’, really trying to emphasize the feelings within the scene. Ethan couldn’t take her seriously, laughing as he jumped onto stage and grabbing ahold of a script.

“Y/N, you start and pretend that you’re cleaning up his wound.”

Y/N slightly rolled her eyes and put her hand out signaling Ethan to give her his arm. He sighed and slammed his arm into her palm, she then yanked it closer to her not caring if it hurt him, and pretended with her other hand to be patting it.

“If you’d hold still it wouldn’t hurt it as much!” She yelled her first line. Ethan could tell some of that frustration was real. So he decided to do the same.

“Well if you wouldn’t have run away, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“If you wouldn’t have frightened me I wouldn’t have run away!”

“Well you shouldn’t have been in the West Wing!”

“Well you should learn to control your temper.” She said plainly, as if it was an actual piece of advice.

“Now hold still. This might sting a little.” In the script it says for Ethan to wince in pain, so he did, just not well at all. It was forced, and painfully bad to watch his face squint uncomfortably. Y/N sighed, turning to the teacher.

“Ms. Davida he needs to take this seriously, some of us really want this play to go well.”

“I don’t even want to be here, I was forced to join the play, I could’ve gone my entire life without acting in a play.”

“Then leave.” She stepped forward in his face, quickly walking away towards backstage to get some air. He made her so angry. His cocky attitude, his rude tone of voice, the way he could get under her skin over and over again yet she still wanted to see good in him because she truly believed he had some left. Ethan looked off with a surprised face to see all the cast looking at him, and the principle standing at the edge of the theatre, arms crossed. He got nervous, making his way backstage to catch Y/N drinking some water.

“Y/N, hey Y/N, please listen to me.” He grabbed her hand but she angrily pulled it back.

“What.”

“Help me okay. I’m sorry, I really need to do great in this play or else I get expelled. I’m sorry for being so mean and always in your face. I just-this is all new to me.”

“Being nice to someone trying to genuinely help you is ‘new to you’?” she used air quotes, rolling her eyes taking another sip of water.

“No, trying new things. Trying to be good. I’ve always acted tough on purpose because I thought that’s how it should be. People give you more respect.”

“Your act only works on an audience.” Y/N saw through it since first day of kindergarten when he stole her crayons and snored next to her ear during nap time to annoy her. But she paid no mind, there were more important things to worry about than a little boy.

“Ethan, if you promise me you try, like really try, in all aspects, I won’t be opposed to helping you.” She said calmly, with her normal soft voice.

“I won’t say I’ll be perfect, but I’ll do the best I can.”

“That’s all I ask.” She started walking back onto the stage where they were already rehearsing another scene, but she quickly turned back around to say one last minor detail.

“Oh yea and Ethan, one more thing. You have to promise not to fall in love with me.”

A chuckle came from his mouth as he looked her up and down.

“Without a doubt, that is a promise I can keep.”

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #the dolan twins #ethan dolan imagine #grayson dolan imagine #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins smut #dolan twins masterlist

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mtvswatches · 4 years

Text

Wynonna Earp 3x04 No Cure For Crazy

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) Did that… did that tree just fucking walk?

Is the tree possessed by Dolls or something? Why is a tree helping Wynonna and Doc?

And why is Peacemaker not working?

3) Okay, the trees are fucking bleeding and this dude just called it “a murder tree” and what the actual fuck!

4) So… the “fire” never really happened, it was just a Black Badge cover-up for the massacre. I really want to see where they go with this whole backstory they’ve given Nicole because so far? Not into it.

Nicole does make a good point of asking Waverly why she hasn’t talked to her mom yet to figure out who her parents are. She seemed quite intent on figuring it out last season, and here she has the perfect opportunity to have every answer she’s looking for, and she’s not taking it? Waverly is anything but a chicken, so I’d figured she would confront her mother head on but I guess she’s been conveniently written OOC so that the writers can keep this mystery going for a while. I hope they don’t stretch this for too long, though.

5) Why did Nicole randomly and carelessly throw the ring in the middle of the forest? Huh? That’s also kind of OOC? Wasn’t she talking about disposing of it carefully two minutes ago?

6) MORE OF THIS, PLEASE.

7) And more of this.

8) Okay, so Waverly IS going to see her mother, she just didn’t disclose that bit of information to Nicole, why? She just made this big speech about not keeping secrets from each other… or is it that she wasn’t planning on seeing her mom until Wynonna brought it up and basically set it all up for her?

And suuuure, Mama is doin’ just fine!

9) So, Wynonna couldn’t shoot Peacemaker because she ran out of bullets, which is a more logical explanation than what I was expecting. I don’t know why but I just assumed Peacemaker had magical ammo and it didn’t require reloading? Anywho, look at these two idiots flirting with each other and basically dry-humping…

10) SHIT. That was a low blow.

But how fucking adorable is it that he’d taken the time to buy - or build! - baby Alice a crib? My heart!

11) Why was their mother so intent on Waverly never finding out where she was or seeing her? And what’s going to happen when Waverly does…? There must be a reason. It seems she was trying to protect them.

12) Why are they giving me so much Doc/Wynonna in this episode? What’s going to happen? (Listen, I’ve grown up watching Joss Whedon shows, I’m conditioned to believe that happiness is followed by utter and complete destruction and mysery!)

13)

NICOLE: Can we talk? It’s about Nedley.

WYNONNA: Not again. How many more plungers do we need?

14) Wait, did I forget that Jeremy was gay or they haven’t mentioned it before? Because I’m all for it, and especially about the way it was casually brought up in conversation because it’s not Jeremy’s single defining characteristic.

15) I guess the mother-daughter reunion is happening sooner than expected, since Waverly was contacted as her last known emergency contact.

16) Jeremy is totally vibing with this Robin dude who found the murder tree and they’re making silly tree puns and it’s gay heaven, I love it.

17) Well, that couldn’t have gone any worse…

And yet, I can’t help but feel she means something else? I still feel she’s trying to protect Waverly.

Something happened when Waverly touched her, too, and then she kept saying “she’s unbound, she’s loose, kill the demon.” Waverly of course assumes her mom is referring to her as “the demon”, but I have a feeling she’s talking about an actual demon.

18) I really felt for Nedley when he admitted he’s tired of covering the supernatural shit up. Man, I hated him on the first episode of the show and now I’ve really grown to like him? And Wynonna suggested he should step aside and let Nicole take charge, and he’s actually considering it, and I’m here for Sheriff Haught.

19) Listen, I’m not usually into Gay, meet Gay, now get together because you’re the only two Gays so therefore you must be attracted to each other and date, but… I’m really liking the Jeremy/Robin interactions so far? They’re really cute!

20) And now they’re two gays who have zero idea about the woods lost in the forest and they found the stairway to heaven…

21) Mama Gibson is not messing around.

22) Ah, great, the idiots who let a dangerous convict escape have now locked Wynonna up. Marvelous.

23) Damn, Waverly keeps thinking her mother wants to kill her and that she called her a demon, but I just fucking know she’s talking about a literal demon that’s probably threatening Waverly’s life, that’s why she’s kept away from her.

24) Wait, what?

NEDLEY: Michelle didn’t go to prison because she burned down the barn. She went because her youngest daughter was in it.

Her youngest is Waverly? So did she try to set Waverly on fire? I have a hunch she’s possessed.

25) Oh, dang, Doc is hearing a baby’s cry in the woods. Of course, this is a trigger for him, he’s thinking of Alice, and he’s being lured into the woods.

26) Major Spike vibes in this scene…

27) Hm. Bulshar just tried to strike up a deal with Doc – he’ll give Doc reprieve from the knowledge of his miserable destiny if Doc does his bidding. And Doc was really contemplating accepting. Don’t be weak, Doc. Come on. There has to be a way.

28) So, this fucking corrupt guard suggests they should just off Wynonna and write it off as if Michelle murdered her own daughter when she was trying to escape. And of course, he’s a fucking revenant. It’s definitely going to be interesting to see how Wynonna gets out of this one while handcuffed and without Peacemaker…

I mean, she was fucking tasered and yet…

QUEEN.

29) Nedley, my heart. He’s so heartbroken over this.

NEDLEY: Well, I got a call to a situation at the Earp farm. By the time I got there, the barn was lit up like a torch. You... somehow you escaped. I mean, you were covered with soot, you were crying, but you were unharmed. WAVERLY: And my mother? NEDLEY: She was... locked in your daddy's patrol car. She set the fire. But she was no murderous sociopath. She was Michelle Gibson. Rodeo spitfire. The wild heart and loyal soul of Purgatory. Even the thugs and the dimwits drank to her. With her. They loved her. Look, she wasn't herself that night. She kept... she kept insisting that... that she was trying to vanquish a demon. WAVERLY: A demon she thought was... me. NEDLEY: Well, that would explain The occult nonsense that Ward saw plastered all over the barn before she lit the match. Did you believe it? That was Ward's interpretation. Look, your pop was my boss, so... And I know... I know I should've been braver. I should've defended her. But... I booked Michelle like I was told to. God, this just keeps getting worse. I've been trying to make up for it ever since. I kept watch over you. I tried to set Wynonna on the straight and narrow. That didn't work out. And when I became Sheriff, I pulled the report. I didn't want anyone seeing it.

30) Why would Wynonna let the revenant in on the fact that she got a kid? I mean, wasn’t the whole point of sending Alice away to protect her from the likes of him? I get that she used that bit of information to distract him, and yeah, she did this later…

…but maybe don’t go talking about your child out loud around the enemies?

31) Why is he coughing dirt? Is he going to get gay-buried before he can be allowed to actually gay?

32) Now Waverly is listening to her mom’s tapes with a psychiatrist or therapist or something, and yep, I’m still convinced she was possessed or something and the reason she was trying to stay away from Waverly is because she wanted to protect her. As she was talking to the therapist, she said “Shut up!” or something like that and she was clearly talking to someone else who was not there, like someone who might be in her own head or that only she can see. Someone or something that might be using her to kill her own daughter. The question is, who and why? Is it Bulshar manipulating her the same way he tried to manipulate Doc? Or is it something else altogether? And why is this something or someone so intent on killing Waves? What is she? What kind of role is she supposed to play in the grand scheme of things for this evil entity to want her dead so badly?

33) Okay, theory confirmed, Doc just heard a third, infernal voice on the tape.

34) Oh shit, is history going to repeat itself?!

Yep, there was an actual demon in serious need of a facial and makeover.

35) Bye bye Robin, I guess?

36) Who the fuck is Jolene and why is everyone acting like Stepford Wives? Is this some sort of Ted/Dawn scenario?! And why is it that, in a supernatural show, this is by far the creepiest thing I’ve seen?!

37) So, I’ve got a lot of questions. First of all, I want to know more about the murder trees. How do they come to be? Are they inhabited by serial killers? We saw the face in one of them, and they can actually walk and move around, but why do they bleed? Is it like their victim’s blood? Also, who the fuck is Jolene? I mean, I know she’s probably the demon that showed up in the barn, but what’s her deal? What does she want? I mean, she didn’t kill Waverly, and instead she’s feeding and glamouring the whole group… to do what? Where was Robin taken? Can we please not do the whole bury-your-gays trope? I expect better of this show. Will Doc accept Bulshar’s deal? Please don’t, Doc. And what is Waverly?! That’s the biggest question of all, so I’m guessing the answer will be delayed till the season finale.

That was yet another fun, exciting Wynonna Earp episode, setting up a lot of stuff for the season, I guess. And I want answers!

38) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

#Wynonna Earp #Waverly Earp #Nicole Haught #Doc Holliday #Jeremy Chetri #Wynonna Earp 3x04 #WE RECAP #recap #No Cure For Crazy #mine #WE 3x04

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years

Note

Anime protag's best you say..... how about some good ol magical girl FAHC au? (leaning towards my grubby paws pairing of jeremwood but im good with whatever you come up with!)

!!! XDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

My first inclination is to tie this into my favorite Battle Buddies backstory for these two dummies?

(Partners in a government agency/spec ops group in the military and due to Typical Suspense/Thriller plot they’re betrayed by their agency and one or both of them is forced to fake their deaths?

If only one of them fakes their death, the one who didn’t goes underground to expose/get revenge on the people behind the betrayal and so on and so forth where they meet up again in Los Santos.

If they both fake their deaths it’s either because they’re on that plan together and do the whole expose baddies/get revenge on baddies thing together or they fake their deaths without letting the other one in on their plans to protect them but because they’re too determined to be a freaking Hero about things they think the other is dead and react accordingly, which leads to the Sad Hero on their Mission of Revenge and whatnot. Because Drama.)

So let’s go with that, using the version in which Ryan finds out their agency/spec ops group is up to Something Bad and supposedly killed on a mission that Jeremy didn’t know about/was assigned to for whatever reason. (He was injured and their superiors insisted Ryan could handle things himself and so on.)

And!

For added Drama/Angst let’s say this happened relatively early into their partnership and Ryan had this habit of wearing covering his face with anything from balaclavas/scarves/various protective face masks/face paint because reasons?

He played around with the pattern/design for his face paint a fair bit from basic camo variations to these very simple skull designs? Claimed it was to avoid showing his face when it came to security cameras and the whatnot, but really it’s more to with being a melodramatic bastard, so yeah.

Anyway, the point is Jeremy never really saw his face? The only times he did he was concussed or shitfaced drunk or generally in no shape to really take in the grandeur of it and all, okay.

Injured on a mission and Ryan ripping his mask/whatever off his face (and the worry/fear in his voice Jeremy remembers) because that’s what one does in case of your partner being seriously injured and you want to show your Concern. (DRAMA.)

Jeremy showing up on Ryan’s doorstep after a night out drinking – to celebrate or trying to drown out bad memories and whatnot – and the soft tone of voice Ryan would get as he got him situated on his couch with a glass of water and some aspirin to let him sleep it off. (Jeremy waking up the next morning with no memory of how he got there and Ryan either puttering around somewhere trying out a new face paint pattern or long gone because he had a meeting or something to do, but he’d leave a note for Jeremy to let him know where he’d gone and remind him to drink more water and generally mother-hen him.)

ANYWAY.

Jeremy never really saw Ryan’s face, but they were getting to be good friends. (Jeremy thought so, at least?) They made a good team in the field, meshed almost from the beginning and while he’s still not sure it wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part he thought they could have been something more. (Probably all in his head, though. Adrenaline and such.)

But then the mission Ryan didn’t come back from, and the way their superiors acted all...suspicious about things afterwards. Make him uneasy, but he sticks with them a little longer because he doesn’t know what else to do, right?

Still reeling from Ryan’s death and it makes it easier for the baddies responsible to get rid of him, you know? (They’re not sure how much Jeremy knows or suspects, and really, it’s just safer for them and their schemes if he’s out of the picture.)

Send him on these missions solo. Tell him they’re working on finding him a new partner and Jeremy is fine with the delay because he’s not sure he wants one after Ryan? (Like, if he plans on sticking around he’ll need one, but maybe he should think about a new career and anyway, anyway, working solos is better is probably for the best. No one to get attached to that way.)

The baddies send Jeremy after some of their...associates. People they’ve made deals with/had business dealings with as they built up their own power base and secured their foothold in the agency/spec ops group/wherever. But now they feel they don’t need these associates anymore and they’re a bit of a liability. Could betray them if they feel they’ve been slighted, and off goes Jeremy to “deal with” them, which hey.

If Jeremy kills their associates, that’s one less problem to worry about. If their associates kill Jeremy, that’s a different sort of problem altogether they don’t have to worry about.

But Jeremy’s harder to kill than they expect, comes back from all these missions of theirs more or less in one piece. There are a few close calls, serious injuries, but he just keeps coming back.

And then one day they send him after an associate who has an interest in the arcane and other similar things. Bit of a hobby, next to their warmongering and so on. (That’s not what he’s being sent to their base for, though, no. Just a little tidbit of info on the target in case it comes in handy during the course of the mission. And maybe to make them seem more...unhinged? Something like that, who knows.)

They babble, when Jeremy’s got them in his sights, had to get up close and personal because goddamn they’re paranoid. Paranoid and cowardly and they know why Jeremy’s there. Has been keeping tabs on the baddies, know they’re taking care of loose ends using Jeremy to do it and they tell him everything they know.

(Bitter and resigned because of course Jeremy’s going to kill them, so why not tell him what they know? Maybe it’ll get them some revenge from beyond the grave if their dutiful little weapon goes back and kills them as well.)

They tell Jeremy about the baddies and oh, did you really think it was a coincidence your partner died on that one mission? Surely there were signs something was off before he took that mission, no?And Jeremy, he’s been going over that again and again in his own head because there were, right? Ryan was a damn good operative, good at his job and everything along those lines, but Jeremy knew him. (Thought he did.)

And Ryan had been acting strangely shortly before that mission. Distant, distracted. squirrely as hell for him.

Had this look on his face when he stopped by to see Jeremy in medical before he left for the mission, conflicted as hell before he shrugged it off and teased Jeremy about being an invalid for a bit, joked around and acted like nothing was wrong.

Then Ryan left on that mission and never came back and Jeremy’s been kicking himself for not trying harder to find out what was bothering Ryan. (He tried a couple of times, worried about Ryan, but he didn’t want to push too hard. Put Ryan on the defensive.)

So.

And now this asshole is ripping that wound open again (not too hard to do because it’s definitely not healing right) and making Jeremy question everything he thought he knew. (Thought he could trust his superiors, but they’ve been acting suspicious, haven’t they? Sending him on mission after mission after mission like this and very little downtime in between. (Keep telling him they’re shorthanded and all, but there’s something to it he doesn’t quite believe.)

The asshole tells Jeremy everything they know, which just brings up more questions, and then Jeremy kills them because that’s what he was sent there to do. (The asshole deserved it, but it still makes Jeremy feel dirty in a way none of the his past missions have. The ones when he worked with Ryan at least, because these past few weeks, months, feel wrong somehow.)

He investigates the asshole’s office, finds this odd little box locked away in a safe.

Some kind of stone? Weird sheen to it, like it’s sucking in light around it and all. Curious little locking mechanism – a puzzle?

Whatever it is, it doesn’t have to do with his mission here so he pouts it back in the safe.

He’s after the rest of the safe’s contents anyway. Stack of files he’s meant to burn – he pulls his phone out and takes photos because reasons – and USB drives he’s meant to destroy. (He makes copies.)

As soon as all that’s taken care of Jeremy turns to leave because he’s on a time-table – and pauses. Turns back to look at that strange little box because there’s something about it, you know? One of those things your brain just latches on to for whatever reason, won’t let go of.

Jeremy glances around, but no one’s there to see.

The guards are either dead or oblivious (for now), and the asshole he was sent here to kill is dead.

No one to see him pocket the strange little box for no reason he can explain before he leaves the same way he got in.

Reports back to his superiors like a good little weapon – that phrase sticks in his head – and then goes home.

Crappy apartment he doesn’t like – had been planning on moving, but that was back before Ryan died. Now it’s just. Something he’ll get around to eventually.

Jeremy sets the strange little box down on his dresser and forgets about it for the next few days. (Debriefings and sifting through the files and whatnot he brought back with him. Realizing his superiors are Up To Something and that Ryan’s death is absolutely involved. Does some digging and all that.)

Gets home late one night, moonlight filtering through the bedroom window and he’s feeling tired, sluggish after a long day. Tracks the moonlight to where it lands on the strange little box and he reaches for it, because hey.

Why not try to figure out the locking mechanism while he’s this exhausted?

OR maybe he’s trying to figure out what the faint pattern the lid of the box is – faded and scuffed all to hell like it’s had a hard life/existence. Chipped corners like it’s been dropped (or thrown?) and really just kind of beaten up. (Like him.)

Traces the pattern and frowns when he realizes one line of it curves down and around, follows the edge of the lid down a meandering sort of patch to the bottom of the box. Forgets about the paper cut he got at HQ earlier, presses hard enough to reopen it and some of the blood gets caught in the groove of the pattern he’s tracing, because of course it does.

Doesn’t notice the way the box slowly warms up in his hands – tired, you know, slow on the uptake – and just thinks it’s a result of transferred body heat.

But no, no.

Arcane shit and all that, Jeremy’s blood and a puzzle in the pattern and the damn box coming to life in his hands. Warms up to the point it gets hot – too hot for comfort and the moment that registers in his exhausted mind, Jeremy drops the stupid thing.

Yelps in surprise because what the hell? Watches it tumble end over end on the bedroom carpet before there’s a very audible crack and a glimmer of light as it rolls under his bed. (His mind playing tricks on him?)

He swears he saw the lid pop open before it went under his bed, but when he goes to pick it up – has to wedge himself between his dresser and the bed to do it, get down on his hands and knees and honestly he’s both too tired and too old for that shit – it’s closed.

Shut tight, no sign of what caused that light he knows he saw (did he?) or how the hell it got so hot it burned him. (Or was that another trick his mind is playing on him because it feels cool to the touch now, room temperature if anything.)

Jeremy crawls back out and stares at the strange little box in his hand.

Tiny thing, really.

Sits neatly in the palm of his hand and not much to look at, really. No reason why he’d fucking steal it from a target, haul it all the way back here. (And yet.)

Tells himself he’s an idiot – and tosses it back on the dresser and goes off for a shower before bed.

Forgets about it because his superiors send him on another mission, but this time it doesn’t have anything to do with their Secrets. Just a run-of-the-mill mission, nothing odd about it.

So of course that’s when he starts hearing things?

Starts out as faint rustling noises while he’s watching his target. Nothing too strange since he’s hiding out in a fancy as hell garden. Freaking miniature jungle shoved into a relatively small space and a nightmare for the guy’s security, he’s sure. (Plenty of spots for someone like him to hide.)

Most likely a squirrel or something running around, but he keeps an eye out just in case.

As time goes by the noises get louder, more frequent. Too big for a squirrel, but he can’t see what’s causing the noise. Glances around when it sounds like it’s right next to him -

And then just.

Stops.

Nothing.

Soft little thump like whatever was making the noise landed a jump nearby, but he can’t see anything.

Makes him a little uneasy, but his watch buzzes against his wrist,

Ignores the sound of something following him, soft brush of fur against his arm, quiet warning hiss when a guard – who isn’t where he’s supposed to be, btw - almost takes his head of with a startled punch rounding a corner.

Pretends he doesn’t hear that oh, fuck me snarl of a fully pissed off cat when he ends up fighting the damn guard or the softly satisfied meow when he gets the better of the bastard. (And never a damn cat in sight.)

No.

Jeremy’s got a mission to finish and he does, even if he’s lost his goddamned mind.

Takes care of the target and rifles through his office and the hidden safe just to be thorough before setting the damn place on fire – part of the mission? No. Something he does because God knows Ryan would have wanted him to do it? Maybe.

Gets the fuck out of there and heads home acting like he’s not being haunted by a fucking cat – or you know, hallucinating one, whichever.

Tries to pretend it doesn’t get worse over the next few days, whatever it is getting louder and more insistent. More deliberate about the noises and all that.

(Feel of a paw on his face pulling him out of sleep when he passed out on his couch, neck at an awkward angle sure to give him a crick that would put him in a foul mood the rest of the day. Something bumping against his shins when he’s getting ready to hit the gym and thinks he won’t need a jacket because it’s not that cold out. Flash of pain on his ankle when he almost – almost! - says something he shouldn’t to one of the people he thinks (knows) got Ryan killed, that kind of thing.)

And then on his way home he runs across this little stray cat.

Tiny thing, long black fur (dirty as hell and it’s dark out) and these bright gold eyes and honestly kind of sad looking.

It’s raining out, and the damn cat is hunched up by the tires of his car trying to avoid the rain and won’t move for anything, so of course he picks it up. No collar or tags, but maybe it’s chipped? He’ll take it to a shelter or vet in the morning to get that checked out. (Definitely doesn’t plan on keeping the dumb thing because he can barely look after himself these days.)

Wraps it up in his hoodie once he’s in his car – it needed to be washed anyway – and heads to his place. Doesn’t look over when he hears it start purring, no, or scritches its ears when they get to a red light because it’s looks like the poor thing’s had a rough time of it lately.

When he gets home he realizes he doesn’t have cat food laying around – why the hell would he when he doesn’t have pets? (That was always Ryan’s thing anyway, the whole stray bit. Dozens of the things around his place when Jeremy would stop by to pick him up or after a night of drinking and wow, don’t need to be thinking about that now, so he doesn’t.)

He decides to give the poor thing a bath first, get all the dirt and muck out of its fur before anything else. (It’s already soaked through from the rain, no reason to get it dried off to dunk in the tub again later, right?)

Jeremy’s expecting a struggle getting the cat in the tub, but to his pleasant surprise it seems thrilled at the chance to splash around in warm water. Stands still while he uses his own shampoo to soap it up (should be safe, right? Fuck, maybe he should have stopped at a store on the way home, gotten pet supplies first?) and gets all the dirt and grime and whatnot out of its fur.

Realizes it’s not a solid black color after all. More smokey coloring from soft blue-gray to deep black and striking as hell. (This little marking on its chest like a starburst.)

It chirps at him when he wraps a towel around it and does his best to get the water out of its fur and situates it on his couch while he tries to find something to feed it. (Chicken? Chicken’s good for cats, right?)

The smell of cooking chicken reminds him he skipped lunch earlier (made some flimsy excuse to meet someone who might know something his superiors are up to) so he cooks something for himself.

Sets out a bowl water and another with of cooked chicken and a little bit of brown rice he made. Some veggies to round things out because nutrition and also he remembers Ryan telling him about this one stray that kept fucking stealing them off his plate. (But he’s not thinking about Ryan, no.)

Sits down to eat and watches the cat pad over to the food, curious as hell before it tucks in. Smiles a little because it makes these little noises as it eats, all nomnomnom which he didn’t know was a thing? But apparently it is. (Not that he’s going to get attached to the dumb thing, no.)

ANYWAY.

Jeremy cleans up and gets ready for bed, half-hardheartedly tries to kick the cat off his bed when it hops up next to him. (Because no???)

But it’s kind of small and on the scrawny side of things and anyway, anyway, it’s cold out and he’s not so heartless he’d let it freeze and his heat’s always been iffy. (Not that cold out, but hey whatever.)

The next morning he wakes up with the stray curled up next to him, all adorable and he decides the closest animal shelter is out of his way and there’s a vet not too far away, because reasons.

Gets them both fed and bundles the stray up to take it to the vet to get checked over. Finds out it’s not chipped, and other than being a bit malnourished is relatively healthy. Might need some shots down the road if he plans on keeping it and oh, yes, talk to the receptionist on the way out because there’s this missing pets thing they do. (Some kind of notice board or some such.)

Jeremy laughs off the part about keeping the stray if no one claims it because no (no), and pretends he doesn’t see the look she gives him over that little lie.

This time he stops by the pet store on the way home, gets food and a couple of pet food bowls. A few toys because it’s the weekend, sure, but he has to be back at HQ on Monday and he doesn’t want the stray to rip his place apart out of boredom. A few other things – treats and a comb the vet suggested because long fur? - and this little purple and orange collar because of course that’s the one he’d pick out.

The stray watches all this from the cart, and Jeremy swears it’s judging him for the collar, but what the hell does it know, it’s just a cat.

So.

He goes home with the stray and puts away the food and other stuff he doesn’t want it getting into and tries to get it interested in the toys and other random things he bought.

The stray gives him this look when he tosses the little jingly ball, but doesn’t run after it. Has a little more interest in the feather -thing he got. (Way too much money for a feather tied to a stick, but what the hell, right?)

Loses some of its composure when he gets a few treats out – all interested in that for damn sure – and deigns to entertain him by batting around the catnip mouse for a few precious treats.

Gives him another look when he brings the collar out but lets him put the stupid thing on it. (Totally doesn’t take a picture of it on his phone, goodness no.)

Jeremy has to leave the cat alone for a bit when he gets a phone call. (Some guy he knows who knows a guy who knows someone who might know something about the mess his life’s become.)

When he gets back he finds it curled up on his bed with one of the cat toys he bought it snugged up to its chest and he maybe takes a picture of that too. (Because reasons.)

Pretty much rinse and repeat the next day, and knows he should take it to a shelter before he gets attached, but it’s still rainy out and he’d rather stay inside where it’s warm(ish) and dry and anyway, anyway. Maybe later during the week?

Goes to HQ on Monday and doesn’t realize until he’s sitting through another briefing that he hasn’t heard the weird ghost-cat noises for a while now? (Weird.)

Goes back home where the stray is napping on the couch and stops to scritches its ears before he changes and takes a shower and all that.

Comes back out to find the stray sitting on his kitchen counter (big, big no to that one), and when he goes to shoo it off, it gives him this look, and he hears in his head– plain as day:

Your fashion sense is atrocious.

Because a pair of old sweats he’s had since forever, all faded and kind of falling apart and maybe – possibly – the most unholy shades of purple and orange. (He just likes them okay, stop judging.)

Jeremy stares at the cat for a long, long moment. Pretty sure it’s not speaking to him in his head (that would be crazy) because he’s been under a lot of stress lately between one thing and another, and also cats can’t do that?

Really.

And, look, okay.

If cats could do that, he’s positive they’d just be as snide and sarcastic and everything because humans are dumb as shit, but -

There’s this weird...tickling sensation in his head? And looking at the stray he realizes it was a sigh? (God, what the hell is happening anymore???)

The cat sighs again and Jeremy has to sit down because maybe he like, hit his head or something??? Slipped in the shower and doesn’t remember it and everything.

Plunks himself down at the little kitchen bar counter to watch the cat walk on over to keep giving him those looks.

And then it starts talking, telling him about this whole...Thing.

Some cosmic baddie that defeated the last person the cat mentored – a long moment of silence after it drops that bit of information and this wave of sadness from the cat. Sorrow and guilt and sense that it blames itself for not preparing its charge well enough.

How it was locked away in a little prison all this time, awake but dreaming and all this enigmatic bullshit that Jeremy’s mind kind of skips past because what the hell pretentious bullshit is this???

And then!

And then someone (something, something, prophecy???) released it and the only one who could do such a thing is destined to be the next magical girl it mentors.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Because fucking really, what?

The cat barrels on, sensing Jeremy is not delighted with all this nonsense, and tells Jeremy all about these Forces of Evil he’s expected to do battle with until the cosmic baddies shows his dumb face again. (Something, something, defeating the cat’s previous charge weakened them and the FoE wreaking havoc all over the place are something, something, preparing for their return? Something, anyway.)

The cat explains that it couldn’t communicate with Jeremy properly at first – weakened by its previous defeat and imprisonment. Also language barriers? (Apparently the US as he knows it now didn’t exist the last time the around, and also the cat and its charge weren’t in an English speaking country and just a whole lot to unpack to even bother wondering about all that.)

But that’s totally the reason for the ghost-cat and everything else when he thought he was just normal crazy, not whatever this is.

Jeremy just stares at the cat, certain he’s lost his mind because cat???

But then the little asshole nudges that damned box Jeremy was so fixated on towards him. (How the hell it got it all the way out here is a mystery he doesn’t want solved because it’s probably tied into the whole losing his damn mind business.)

It points out the dried blood on the box from Jeremy’s paper cut, most if it flaking off but enough left to see what it’s talking about when the stupid thing tells him only someone with the right bloodline yadda, yadda, yadda could hope to break the seal placed on it and oh dear fucking God, what is going on anymore???

Eventually the cat stops talking and gives Jeremy one of those looks.

You don’t believe me, do you.

Jeremy just looks at the dumb cat, because whatever gave it away?

“Oh, no,” he says. “I totally do.”

The cat sighs again, and hops off the counter.

Jeremy watches as it heads towards his bedroom and after a moment follows to find it making itself comfy on his bed.

“Uh...”

The cat just tells him that since the only way he’ll believe it is if he sees for himself what it’s talking about, and then just.

Goes to sleep.

Just.

Fucking goes to sleep after all that exposition leaving Jeremy to wonder if he imagined the whole thing, at least until he goes back to the kitchen and sees the strange little box sitting on the counter. (Tiny scratches on it and what look like cat-sized bite marks and okay, wow. No. No more mysteries tonight.)

He makes dinner and sets food out for the cat. Refills its water bowl and feels super weird about all of it because the cat can talk to him telepathically or something? And he’s feeding it some pet store cat food and oh, God, what does he do now?

But, you know.

He’s hungry as hell and the cat’s not talking (hahaha, it’s a cat, why would it???) and just.

Fuck it, okay. If the cat has a problem with what he’s feeding it the damn thing can put in a formal request or something later.

The cat doesn’t talk to him the next day or the one after that, but when Jeremy gets jumped by these weird monster...things in the parking garage at HQ it just sort of pops up out of nowhere.

Just poof and its there, this fucking wand in its teeth and orders for Jeremy to use it, like he knows what the hell he’s doing?

Fumbles with it and almost zaps himself with a burst of something that comes out of the sparkly little star on one end. Manages to get it pointed at the monster-thing and watches as it...melts.

“What the fuck.”

He was expecting some weird light show, or something like that. Sparkly lights and whatever else, not something out of a horror flick and this puddle of goo (blackish greenish muck and bits of bone left behind and he kind of has to vomit a little because it reeks. Foul and vile and overall nothing he’s ever smelled before. (And he’s trudged through sewers all over the damn world thanks to his job, okay. He knows disgusting.)

The cat walks over to investigate the mess, distaste in its voice as it flicks its ears and looks over at him.

Interesting.

That...doesn’t sound good.

Turns out it isn’t, because the wand adjusts to its users needs and the whatnot, and apparently Jeremy was desperate for some kind of magic zappy laser business to deal with the monster-things fast and the want compensated as well as it could. (Which resulted in the puddle of melted monster.)

The cat assures him with further training things won’t end quite so messily, but Jeremy’s out okay? Super freaking done with all this weirdness.

Gets in his car and heads home. Kind of wants to leave the cat behind, but he’s not that asshole and opens the door to let in inside. Ignores the way it’s watching him as he drives, and anyway -

“What the hell was that???”

And the cat sighs – still weird as hell in his head – and spews more exposition about how the baddie feeds on bad vibes or something, and blah, blah, blah.

Also, a hell of a lot of that around HQ and Jeremy’s superiors that drew the monster-things there where they picked up Jeremy’s scent. (Bloodlines and dumb magic cat and also the strange little box left an imprint or something on him that’s slow to fade. Whatever.)

The cat tells Jeremy now the monster-things have his scent they’ll be after him, and also will go tattling to the cosmic baddie.

So, you know.

Kind of fucked now.

Jeremy thinks it’s a load of horseshit – Denial!!1! - and the cat is like, fine, whatever. You’ll just have to see for yourself again then.

And Jeremy does a few nights later and another encounter with the monster-things. This time he’s not subconsciously thinking about melting the fuckers so much as just...zapping them?

So it’s less puddle of monster-thing at the end and more electrocuting them? Still disgusting, but less so? (Something, anyway.)

A week after that on a mission that almost ruins the whole operation (puts the others working with him on it in danger) before he gets things under control and when he gets home he confronts the cat who is just.

Are you ready to listen to reason, now?

Oh, Jeremy’s pissed okay, because it’s one thing for those things to go after him – his life’s weird enough as it is – but other operatives and support personnel? No.>

He agrees to let the cat train him – his life, what is it? - and they Do Battle with the FoE in Jeremy’s life for a bit until he runs the risk of other people discovering hes a magical girl now? (Apparently a big no-no because reasons?)

There’s a Major Battle at some point, and the cat tells Jeremy they’ve driven the monster-things out of the city (because of course!) but they can’t sit back and let the rest come to them. (Something, something, momentum/the monster-things wreaking havoc elsewhere.)

And Jeremy, he would, but that whole thing with figuring out what his superiors are up to and the thing with them being responsible for Ryan’s death and just -

The cat makes a deal with Jeremy, who – coincidentally – has hit a brick wall in his investigation regarding all that.

Tells him if they go after the monster-things it will help him with that problem of his, but there’s nothing for him in this city anymore, you know?

But before Jeremy can make the decision himself, his superiors send him on another mission and it’s obvious this time they’re trying to kill him. (Would have, if it wasn’t for the cat and the wand and this whole magical girl business.)

Jeremy stares at the burning safe house he was supposed to be in before it fucking blew, looks down at the cat who trots up to him. (Thousands of miles away from home and somehow it’s here, but that’s magic for you.)

“No time like now, huh?” Jeremy murmurs, because being dead is a good excuse not to show up to work, and figures faking his death is for the best.

Will keep his superiors and their bullshit off his back while he fights evil by moonlight or whatever the hell and it’s not like he has anyone who’ll miss him in the meantime. (Deliberately doesn’t think about his family, because wow, no.)

He and the cat wander for a bit there, hit cities and towns and whatever else infested with the cosmic baddie’s monster-thing and gets better at this whole magical girl business.

Gets to the point where he’s not that bad at it, which is around the time they end up in Los Santos.

Which, wouldn’t you know it is a hotbed for this magical girl nonsense as well as your more mundane criminal enterprises.

“Color me shocked,” Jeremy says, when the cat mentions that. Tells him it’s something to do with the city being built on the remains of another Major Battle centuries ago and rifts to other dimensions that never fully closed blah, blah, blah.)

Being dead(ish), Jeremy hasn’t exactly been working regular jobs. May have used all the training the agency/spec ops group gave him to god use and breaking a few laws here and there to get by.

Sets himself up as muscle for hire in Los Santos while he (sometimes literally) moonlights as a magical girl.

Pretends to be an upright citizen, but there’s just so much weirdness around him that of course the cops get involved at some point.

Too much of a coincidence he’s usually where the really weird shit happens, you know? And even though he’s a stellar liar, the police know something is up with him.

Especially this one detective with this bizarre as hell accent. (Jersey, maybe? New York? Who the fuck knows, it fluctuates.)

Big guy, something weirdly familiar about him, but hey. Life’s been weird for Jeremy the last little while and Detective Roger Davis is a blip on the radar, you know?

Jeremy flip-flops between being annoyed and amused whenever the guy pops up because a suspicious bastard. All these questions and looks and getting way too close to stumbling over the truth, but also?

Weird guy, okay.

Odd sense of humor – kind of dark and twisted that speaks to Jeremy’s own sense of humor – and he has these moments where he’s not completely terrible to be around when he asks Jeremy the usual questions at the latest scene where weird shit went down.

Every so often he’ll hauls Jeremy down to the station every so often when something Big happened and he’s the likely suspect behind it. Or he’ll just happen to run into Jeremy on the street, and hey, why not get a cup of coffee or something at that diner over there? No ulterior motives at all, Mr. Tim. (Jeremy’s a ridiculous mess of a human being.

Catches the guy watching him sometimes, the usual suspicion and paranoia nowhere to be found. Just this strange sort of melancholy? (Not Jeremy’s business, and anyway, he’s kind of busy battling the FoE and trying not to get arrested for his day job(s) or not job.)

Gets a few leads here and there regarding his former superiors, but never anything concrete. Kind of weird how things dried up after that last MB before he faked his death, and The Cat is like. *SIGH* because clearly the two are connected. (Cosmic baddie and his minions enabling Jeremy’s superiors and the whatnot even if no one was aware because they spread more suffering and ~evil along the way and just. Hopefully Jeremy will figure that out sooner or later.)

Anyway.

Jeremy’s powers have settled as (mostly) electricity base? Something similar, anyhow.

Zappy kind of magic and all that, and the suit – of course there’s a suit – reflects that somewhat in the yellow/orange bits. The purple is questionable, but Jeremy insists on it and the wand that provides the suit just kind of rolls with it. (The feeling he gets from it, anyway, and The Cat’s long given up arguing with Jeremy regarding his fashion choices.)

The media doesn’t really have a name for him – not that he’s picked one himself – but there are plenty of headlines about “Sparky” and “Sparkplug” and all that Jeremy is kind of insulted by? (Yes, he’s short and stocky, that's no excuse for people being unimaginative hacks.)

And then!

Detective Roger Davis gets in over his head, goes snooping where he shouldn’t and Jeremy has to save him from a group of monster-things. Finds himself going up against a trio of higher-tier monster-things in the process.

Vaguely humanoid, and they make these garbled attempts at speech – creaking, groaning, wheezing things – that sound like a name? (Jeremy’s or the cosmic baddies, he can’t make it out.)

Rescues the good detective who definitely knows something is up with Jeremy now because Jeremy’s mask got destroyed in the fight and no denying it’s Jeremy in the magical girl suit and wand and The Cat???

Like.

Sure, Detective Roger Davis is kind of concussed and all, but he’s not an idiot and Jeremy is just.

Fuck.

He can’t leave the guy here, alright. Putting aside the charred remains of the monster-things, it’s a bad part of the city and the guy’s a cop. No knowing what might happen if someone finds him here, and also kind of a dick move after everything. (Apparently part of the reason the monster-things grabbed him instead of killing him on sight is they knew Jeremy liked the guy and hoped to use him as bait and so on and so forth.)

Jeremy brings the guy back to his place, ignores the ramblings of a man who’s had a super stressful, weird as hell night and makes sure he’s not about to die on him before putting him to bed.

Freezes when Detective Roger Davis smiles up at him. This weird crooked little thing that tugs at the back of Jeremy’s mind and mumbles something about turntables and what sounds like Jeremy’s name before he falls asleep.

Jeremy stares at him for a long, long time because the good detective’s accent was all the way gone on that part. His voice sounded too fucking familiar by far, but nah, right? Jeremy was just hearing things.

(He, too, has has a strange and bizarre night and also has to confront the fact he’s got a Thing for a cop, which is all kinds of Not Good considering he’s a part-time criminal and magical girl???)

And The Cat, okay. The Cat gives him this look but doesn’t say a damn thing as Jeremy plays the denial game again.

Leaves early the next morning because he’s got a job of the less-than-legal persuasion. Working with this guy with a foul mouth and dry sense of humor who is also super fond of explosions and everything that goes along with them.

Easy little thing playing muscle and no murder in the cards (yet, but it happens) and he’s expecting Detective Roger Davis to be long gone by the time he gets home, but no luck there.

Of course not.

The good detective is sitting on Jeremy’s couch watching his TV with The Cat sprawled over his legs like he belongs there. (Jeremy would lie if it doesn’t make for a wonderful thing to come home to, but that’s before The Cat glances at him, so fucking smug in his head.)

“Uh - “

Detective Roger Davis scratches his chin, seems to have a hard time meeting Jeremy’s eyes.

“Never expected to see you again, you know,” he says, and that weird as hell accent of his is nowhere to be seen. Replaced by this faint little southern thing pops ups every now and then the way Jeremy remembers from way back when. “Kind of hoped it wouldn’t happen.”

Hits like a truck, that one.

Steals Jeremy’s breath and all that, so he drops down in an empty chair and stares and stares and stares at the good detective.

Hair’s a little lighter, but that might be due to the amount of sun Los Santos sees. Got a beard situation going on there, something Ryan never had because fucker loved playing around with face paint and complained up a storm about getting it out of his beard.

Looks older, more tired.

Some faded scars here and there Jeremy’s noticed that Ryan didn’t have.

“...Ryan?”

Because of course it’s Ryan. Of fucking course it is, all the little bits and pieces floating and tumbling around the back reaches of Jeremy’s mind all this time clicking together like the worst kind of puzzle.

Looking at him, Jeremy has this one purely paranoid-driven moment where he wonders if Ryan was in on things with their superiors from the beginning. Fakes his death to...what, carry out their bidding without anyone being the wiser? (Who goes looking for a dead man to be behind misdeeds and the whatnot like those?)

But he snaps out of when The Cat snorts in his mind, amused at his stupid human everything like it usually is.

And, right, okay. Right.

They might have moments where they bicker and fight and give each other the cold shoulder, but The Cat is his new partner in this whole magical girl business. Trust and all that between them, and if it thought Ryan was any kind of threat to Jeremy, well. It’s hardly helpless, now is it.

So.

“I kind of want to punch you,” Jeremy says, so fucking tired, only just beginning to process the fact that hey, wow, Ryan’s not dead??? Is alive and well(ish) and apparently a fucking cop??? “FYI.”

Ryan smiles, crooked little thing, and nods.

“I’d deserve it,” he admits, stupidly honest and Jeremy, okay.

Always a sucker when it came to Ryan – more than he realized - and just.

Doesn’t know what to do???

Because Ryan’s not dead and nothing makes sense and just what the actual fuck is his life anymore?

Thankfully Ryan’s happy to explain things. Or. Not so much happy as determined to explain himself, the least he can do and all that.

Tells Jeremy he found out what their superiors were doing – became suspicious after the mission that put Jeremy out of commission for a while – and like Jeremy decided to fake his death when they tried to kill him on that solo mission they sent him on.

Thought Jeremy was safe enough while he worked to unravel the tangle of lies and deceit their superiors wove, and then just.

Got lost in it all for a while. Kept tabs on Jeremy and intended to get him out when he realized their superiors were doing their best to kill him too, but then the mission where Jeremy faked his death and Ryan -

Kind of lost it for real for a while there. Tore through their superiors people, associates they hadn’t sent Jeremy after yet to get answers. Hoping to expose them - ruin them - before he killed them himself, and then got into a mess that almost killed him. (Again, and Jeremy just stares at him at that aside, because wow not funny?)

Ryan running into this assassin for hire who took pity on him or whatever, said he did impressive work but lacked finesse and Ryan, okay. Kind of half-dead and indignant because he is A++++ at killing people, and Meg had just laughed and told him to finish his fucking soup. Told him to look her up if he was ever in Los Santos and took off because she had a target who wasn’t getting any more dead with her dillydallying like this, and try not to die in the meantime because he had potential.

Anyway, that whole near-death situation served as a wake-up call for Ryan who snapped out of his little berserk mode and decided to regroup.

Went to Los Santos because hell if he knew where else to go, and met up with Meg and her little hacker boyfriend there.

Sweet talked Gavin into getting him into the LSPD – some roundabout way of getting his hands on information regarding their former superiors Because Plot???

And he was making headway when Jeremy came to Los Santos and everything kind of derailed.

The weirdness related to Jeremy’s magical girl antics were always there? But wow did it really kick into gear once Jeremy showed up.

And!!1!

Ryan also had to contend with the whole Jeremy not being dead thing while giving away that oh, hey, Ryan is also not dead. And (gently) harassing Jeremy because he totally had/has a Thing for Jeremy and it’s killing him having the little asshole so close and not be able to tell him and goddamn life’s shitty like that.

There’s more, of course. Ryan falling hard(er) for Jeremy, and not being able to tell him back before things went to hell because surely Jeremy would never think of him like that, and why ruin the friendship they had and so on while Jeremy sits there trying to ignore the way The Cat is fucking dying of amusement at these two idiot humans and their ridiculous Pining.

“Okay, so,” Jeremy says, after Ryan drops the whole Being Into Jeremy thing. “You really need to shut up now.”

Ryan does, flash of hurt and then everything shoved down deep all nice and neat except not and Jeremy makes this little noise in the back of this throat because!

He never really saw Ryan’s face before, you know? Dramatic bastard with his face paint and whatever else and not it’s -

Fucker’s not great at hiding what he’s feeling and so Jeremy gets up, walks over to him and looks down at him.

Angry and sad and confused and more than a little heartbroken over how fucking dumb they both are, how dumb Ryan is and just.

“You’re an asshole and I hate you,” he says, watches Ryan just fucking take it like he thinks Jeremy’s serious but it’s okay!

It’s fine!

Jeremy’s right and Ryan deserves it and all kinds of heartache-y bullshit, so Jeremy has no choice but to kiss him, right?

This chaste little thing, a first date goodnight kind of kiss at the door they never got to have, and Ryan goes so very still when he realizes he’s not being punched the way he expects, that Jeremy's pulling back to rest his forehead against his and say, so fucking quietly, “we’re so fucking stupid, Ryan,”.

“What.”

Because Jeremy’s not wrong, but mostly the kissing thing, and the way Jeremy’s still there, forehead pressed against his, and warm and alive and just.

It’s a lot?

It’s a lot.

Jeremy laughs because there’s the old Haywood brilliance, and leans back to look at him.

Not half-bad, really. Gorgeous blue eyes and this really adorable confused frown and the beard looks nice on him.

Mostly though, mostly just Ryan.

“So,” he says, moving back to sit next to Ryan on the couch, welcomes The Cat into his lap. “I’ve got a few things to tell you myself.”

And then it’s Jeremy explaining the whole magical girl dealio he’s got going for himself. How The Cat promised to help him figure it all out – has been helping him – and the thing with the Cosmic Baddie. (Why Ryan is still alive you know, because Jeremy and his FEELINGS for an idiot detective with a shitty accent and all that.)

Ryan just stares at him – still stuck on the kiss and clearly stunned by the admission of Jeremy’s own FEELINGs – and is just.

“Bullshit.”

So of course Jeremy gets the wand out and does the magical girl transformation, only for Ryan to criticize his fashion choices, therefore putting him and The Cat on the same team in that continuing battle.

In the end it’s only a little stranger than the whole conspiracy thing involving their former superiors (understatement) and they just kind of. Try to process everything for a bit.

Drift closer to one another as they do, because Jeremy’s couch is old and shitty and there’s this little dip towards the middle. Definitely not because of the whole Requited Feelings business or the fact they can, no.

They’re both in too deep to get out now with the dealing with their former superiors thing? But it wouldn’t hurt to team up on that front – and you know, maybe that magical girl business too?

(Jeremy’s a bit leery on that one because he’s learned through trial and error and a whole slew of injuries that the monster-things are resistant as hell to contemporary weaponry. Ryan’s also a squishy normal human while Jeremy’s proven to be a bit more durable thanks to this bloodline bullshit and prophecy shenanigans, but they’ll talk about it later, you know?)

And then they kind of orbit one another after that. Go on weird little dates in between the doing crime/solving crime stuff and battling the FoE.

Jeremy makes something of a name for himself in the criminal side of things, and Michael puts in a good word for him with the boss of a crew he started working for. Helps him land a more solid career on that front. (God, what would Jeremy of only a few years ago have had to say about that, huh?)

Ryan’s still pretending to be a cop, and maybe the asshole pulls Jeremy over when he catches him speeding. Smirk on his face and little ”Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?”

(He’s not a great cop, though, because he lets Jeremy slide for a kiss or a promise for a date later and so on. Maybe does some killin’ in regards to the side jobs he takes here and there. Picks out a new mask for said side jobs, flip-flops between several skull designs for his face paint because he has to stick to a theme, you know, otherwise it’s just silly.)

Maybe ditches the whole cop thing when Jeremy’s crew gets into a bind and there’s not a lot of choice, and oh, hey, guys, did I mention I happen to know the Vagabond? Small world, isn’t it.

And more shenanigans in which Jeremy is ~kidnapped by Meg who hears about Ryan and his new boyfriend who may or may not be his old ~unrequited crush.

Jeremy tied to a chair in a swanky hotel – he swears he’s seen movies that start like that – and Meg being all >:(((((((((( at him because Ryan’s a softy at heart and she just wants to make sure Jeremy’s not going to break his heart all over again.

Which, okay. Not going to happen if he can help it, but thanks for looking out for him?

And Gavin showing up with Ryan because the asshole would just not stop pestering him about where Meg took his boyfriend and then it’s like.

Totally like those movies Jeremy and Ryan swears they’ve seen that start with the chair and the ropes after Meg and Gavin leave them alone in that swanky hotel room that’s paid for the rest of the weekend, enjoy you two! :DDDDDDDDDDDD

Meg and Gavin aren’t laughing at Jeremy and Ryan or cashing in on whatever bet they had going bout them and honestly, worst people ever really.

(Jeremy tries to keep the whole magical girl nonsense a secret from the crew as long as he can – not because he doesn’t trust them so much as he doesn’t trust them not to be stupid about it when they do find out. Be all reckless about things when it’ll definitely get them killed until they know what they're doing in regards to the FoE, but that’s a future worry and anyway, anyway, he’s got his hands full with everything else going on in his life to invite trouble like that.)

#jeremwood #turnfree #ragehappy #demoncowedgar #prompt fills #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #fahc magical girl shenanigans #look #even i don't know what's going on anymore #XD

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monkey-network · 5 years

Text

Everything Wrong With: Into The Spiderverse [Done Right]

Cinema Sins dropped the fucking ball with that take, so I decided to do it better in honor of this movie releasing on Netflix. All sins will end with a (+), all sin removals will end with a (-). 3, 2, 1, PENGU!

Logos aside, got to sin for that single tone in the music getting uncomfortably louder to me during them. (+)

Nice try, jokes on narration is still narration (+)

Bonus petty sin for not casting Tobey (+)

I love ya, movie, but you just had to crack wise at the best thing to come out of Spiderman 3 (+)

Petty sin for ringing me flashbacks of my childhood. Sure it wasn’t a spidey popsicle, but it hurt just the same (+)

Wow Spidey, way to downplay the other heroes in New York (+)

Sin for making me think Post Malone is a good musician. Good meaning producing more than 1 good song. (+)

Sin off for giving me that pure melanin that is Miles’ family. (-)

Assuming this is all the same morning, how long did it take Miles to get ready? Jefferson was only in a tee at the house yet was conveniently able to catch Miles on the street, fully suited, in the car. (+)

There are police in this movie. (+)

Jameson can’t be around for this one. smh (+)

I’m with Miles. Dad was being pretty petty right there. (+)

Petty sin for making me look at calculus, and I know that’s calc. (+)

Miles shouldn’t be needing all them books. I’m not even there and this school already feels like torture. (+)

Sin off for that smooth Einstein quote (-)

Come on, Miles, you tried too hard to fail. (+)

Seriously, NO student should be having that many books regardless of the schedule. This private school is worse than college. (+)

Okay, three sins off for playing Biggie Smalls (-)(-)(-)

Tho I gotta sin back for censorsing the vocals.(+)

Miles doesn’t at all feel the spider crawl up his body. Even I could feel a bug on my sleeves. (+)

Yet again, radioactive spider bite doesn’t immediately kill ‘em. (+)

A sin not to the movie, but to Marvel for essentially undercutting Miles’ roomie to make way for Homecoming essentially taking that for themselves. I haven’t forgotten. (+)

Sin off for Miles and (G)wanda’s adorkable moment (-)

Says his plan is terrible and throws him over thinking that’ll work (+)

Snitches (+)

Officer says open up and forgets his key to his own office? (+)

Middle schooler is still gunning after taking a steel beam to the gut (+)

What happen to the Green Goblin? He is never mentioned again after this. (+)

“You don’t have a choice“ cliche (+)

Okay, sin off for the flash drive joke (-)

Miles has a phone capable of recording that in good quality (+)

Goblin thinks that’s a good idea that won’t kill him (+)

They killed the Green Goblin. (+)

“No pressure.” (+)

Prowler has special eyewear yet couldn’t recognize Miles? (+)

Bonus sin for the cape (+)

Poor choice of music for a serious scene (+)

Stan lee cameo. Obligated sin off. (-)

Miles survives that fall (+)

Miles takes off layers in the middle of a snowy night and is not cold in the slightest. Not even a shiver in his voice. (+)

This isn’t the last time (+)

I fear what a Spidey themed restaurant is (+)

Beter gets 11 slams across the city, a tombstone to the face, face across high moving pavement, countless more face slams, and doesn’t suffer a full on concussion. I get Spider-Man’s strong but he’s not regenerative nor indestructible. (+)

“Don’t watch the mouth, watch the hands.“ The implications (+)

Beter would be better than Jeremy at CinemaSins (+)

Dude, you got sauce on the lens. (+)

Preferential, but the blurriness of the less focused backgrounds honestly hurts my eyes sometimes, like someone rubbed vaseline on everything but the focused. (+)

Two sins off for playing St. Elmo’s Fire (-)(-)

Beter being barefoot in the snow makes me wanna scream (+)

Tell that to Spiderman E-751263 with his web cape (+)

Ah, the frame that sparked the most basic meme ever (+)

Hobo peter is better Peter, Miles (+)

Two sins for the horrible sight of a desktop (+)(+)

The cellular decay and the glitching doesn’t play all that much in the stakes. The Spidermun don’t get weaker because of it nor affects their combat until the very end. It all makes sense nonetheless, but it feels like an afterthought watching again. (+)

Doc Ock? Still hot. Seven Sins off! (-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Doc’s arms are no match for yoga balls (+)

Gwen’s arrival is pretty convenient (+)

Scientists don’t immediately notice/react to the Spidermun barging in (+)

Shout out to the female scientist that wanted no part of it all and just wanted her drink (-)

Bagel! (-)

Microscopic scientists can’t apparently aim for shit (+)

Sin off for the hard rock (-)

Gwen was able to keep all that hair in her mask without a net (+)

Stop saying one last time. There’s gonna be sequels. (+)

“I don’t do friends“ cliche (+)

The Comic Con joke? Peak comedy. (-)

Another sin off for Miles and (G)wen adorkable moment (-)

Wait, wasn’t it snowing outside the other night? It all melted that quick? (+)

Beter gets sticky shit on the doorbell. (+)

Three sins off for Aunt May (-)(-)(-)

How come no other hero is around? Daredevil and the Defenders? Strange? Reed? Nobody else noticed that explosion and is reacting accordingly? (+)

I don’t wanna know where them wet hands have truly been. (+)

Nicholas Cage... (-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

The B team don’t get better screentime other than a couple moments each. Benefits the story but it’s still a tad underwhelming in hindsight. (+)

Also, would’ve preferred Peni having a less kawaii design. (+)

You mean Noir had a gun? And doesn’t have it? (+)

“Punch Nazis“ (-)

Also, I’m getting Kung Fu Panda vibes now (-)

Way to put on the pressure (+)

What is this music? (+)

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN (+)

Cars continue to move even when driver should realize something’s happening to their car (+)

RIP Motorcycle (+)

Cool Sp//dr scene (-)

Also Peni wears heelys (-)

Has anybody gotten any sleep? I’m not sinning this one but it feels like nobody’s had the chance to rest since it’s been a couple days.

How was he followed? Didn’t notice a tracker or anything to hint this. Oh wait, the suit.... Goddamn it. (+)

Peni was just standing there for a bit. Get in the robot! (+)

Tombstone gets thrown out only to instantly come back in (+)

Barely anybody in the neighborhood is outside to see the action. Everyone there can’t be that smart. (+)

A bit tasteless, but it’s a bit kinda embarrassing that Prowler was outsmarted by a kid in a Spiderman halloween costume. (+)

Kingpin got out that car faster than a child support dodger (+)

Sins off for Aaron’s final words (-)(-)

You honestly think he’d be okay? (+)

This music (+)

Admittedly, tying him up in this pretty trashed room is not a good look (+)

Beter already named the lightning strike after only seeing it once (+)

“You got the spark“ cliche (+)

Sin off for the pun anyways. (-)

“Leap of Faith“ scene (-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

Okay, now:

The re purposed quotes overplay the quiet suspense of the scene (+)

Assuming this takes place on the same night, I refuse to believe that suit was able to dry so quickly after all that paint (+)

And that Miles is able to just put on the mask without worrying about the paint fumes (+)

Miles puts on a couple layers over the suit only to take ‘em off later on. (+)

Why’d they take the bus? (+)

Only good joke from Spider-Ham and he didn’t even set it up (+)

Beter loss his beer gut overnight it seems (+)

Also that scene with MJ was pretty flat. Funny, but flat. (+)

“Last second gotcha from the villains“ cliche (+)

Convenient timing (+)

So Doc’s just okay with destroying her machine like that? (+)

Best line from Porker (-)

Welp, Doc Ock is certainly gone. Seriously, we never see her again. It’s tragic. (+)

Smashing isn’t gonna help, Fisk. Phrasing (+)

Miles is somehow able to figure out everyone’s dimensions (+)

Last sin off for Miles and Gwen adorkable moment (-)

You’d think Miles would try to reason with Kingpin so they don’t possibly die? (+)

Fisk is unnaturally agile enough to catch a flying train (+)

Well that plot thread was done in an instant (+)

Kingpin just stands there. Doesn’t finish him off when he genuinely has the chance. (+)

Jefferson survives the explosion unscathed. (+)

“One Last Time“ (+)

Miles just lets his roomie know his identity without question (+)

Drones are the true villains (+)

Couple Sins off for banging credits themes (-)(-)

Also a few for the great credits sequence (-)(-)(-)

Saw some t-posing (+)

Great quote from Stan Lee (-)

Seven sins off for great animation overall (-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)

A good End Credits scene (-)

“One Last Time“ (+)

SINS TOTAL: 102 - 79 = 23

Statement: Puberty is a cruel mistress.

#into the spider verse #spider man into the spider verse #spider man #mnky shitpost #marvel #long post #cinema sins

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cleverbroadwayurl · 5 years

Text

Nobody Needs to Know (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt 18)

Song: Nobody Needs to Know from The Last Five Years

Word Count: 5984

Need to Catch Up? PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9 PART 10 PART 11 PART 12 PART 13 PART 14 PART 15 PART 16 PART 17

Want More? PART 19

A/N: I did it! I’m not sure how, but I did it!! Yay!! Here’s Part 18, I hope everyone enjoys, I tried to add some cute moments! Let me know if you’re looking for the link to the Part 15 Supplement Can’t Help Falling in Love!

Trigger Warnings: mentions of injuries, mentions of abuse, self depreciating, mentions of an abusive boyfriend, LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED SOMETHING ASAP

Taglist: @catatonic-kuragin @be-more-heidi-hansen @retrogarden @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans @bluhimaweirdo @stargirl-murphy (happy late birthday btw!!)

Jeremy gave a laugh for the first time that night before following Michael out through the doors they had before, high fiving and smiling all the way to the cruiser that had sat innocently outside the emergency room for hours. Yeah, things were going to be just fine.

Jeremy sat in the gazebo, the same one that he’d been watching not so long ago while he was waiting for you on top of a blanket, supplies in the back of his car for anything and everything—except what had actually happened. You’d asked him there this time, promising to show up when you could, telling him that sometimes your follow up appointments went longer than they were scheduled. As much as he wanted to be calmer than the last time, he discovered that he couldn’t. The fears were there, this time the reality of danger and the events had been encrypted into his daydreams. His hands were sweaty perpetually, almost like every time he attempted to get rid of the moisture, it would just come back with full force, seemingly worse than it had been the last time. He also can’t stop from fidgeting, fingers hitting the white painted wooden bench in the gazebo to playing with the loose thread on his jeans, to just plain running his hands across one another. Maybe that’s how he’d realized the sweat being worse than normal.

He decides it would be a good idea to shift his focus to other things in the park. It would distract him from being worried about you, every minute that you could be late could be another hurtful thing that’s happening; unable to be controlled and unable to keep you safe like he’d promised to do so long ago. Jeremy notices a man jogging amidst the trees, briskly keeping his heartrate up and Jeremy is sure he can see a Fitbit on the guy’s wrist, marking time, keeping up, noting every little thing that the jogger is doing. He shifts his eyes somewhere else, quickly noticing a golden retriever running with its owner and playing fetch. He smiles at the dog, relaxing a little bit as they jump and bark at their owner, almost begging to throw the ball again. And as much as he loved watching the dog; as much as it calmed him down, he made a note to point it out to you when you got there. Jeremy knows how much you’d love the dog, he can practically see eyes shining and your smile wide as you talk about how adorable they are.

He’s early; but that’s what Jeremy wanted. Follow up appointments aren’t fun, and he knows that you’d probably been told to rest, that a lot happened, and in order to heal properly, you’d need some time just napping, sitting, and laying around for a bit. Even if you hadn’t been told to rest and to take some time for yourself, Jeremy would be the biggest advocate for it. He’d played Night in the Woods, knowing that Mae can’t even eat solid food when she first gets home. Sure, this was fact and not fiction, but it was better to rest for a long time than to hurt yourself more because you thought you were okay. And there’s a tugging at Jeremy, knowing that if you’re late, he’d understand completely. The last time he’d been left in the park wasn’t your fault, as much as you wanted to put the blame on yourself. But it wasn’t, and if he was honest, the only thing Jeremy wanted was to keep you safe and happy. If you bailed last second because you were just too weak? He’d understand and just go home, maybe facetime you later if you really wanted to talk.

That, and it’s a nice day. The golden hour was just beginning, light blues and bright yellow sunrays now turning golden with each passing minute in the warm summer evening. Jeremy smiles to himself—you were definitely going to point out that it was the golden hour and how much you loved everything completely basked in the light of day, summer nights being almost as beautiful as the mornings when you wake up by yourself and enjoy a cup of coffee while waiting for the rest of the world to awaken. It’s peaceful, almost tranquil in the morning, and frankly, at the park. Maybe warmer, maybe more humid, but the idea was there, summer grills just beginning to be fired up in the distance around the suburban area. He wipes his hands on his jeans again.

Jeremy pulls out his phone, checking the time. It’s still 5 minutes before the range of times you said you’d be there, but he decides to look at the text you’d sent again. It was evidence, something that was real. This time you’d asked him to the park to talk and spend time with good company. Or at least, he assumed you liked him, given all the time you’d spent together. His eyes dance over the text, heating racing at the thought of spending more time with you before leaving for college.

You: Hey! I was released yesterday and I was wondering if you wanted to hang out? I want to make things up, but if you don’t, I totally understand!

His heart does a flip as he locks his phone; back into his dark wash jean pocket it goes. Jeremy had decided to wear the same outfit Brooke had recommended before; it was easy, the clothes were recently washed, and he didn’t have to ask for more help. There was also the added fact that Brooke probably knew you’d been hospitalized and might want details that Jeremy can barely keep a secret from any wondering questions. It was easier this way. Keeping this meeting as secretive as he could might keep you safe for longer than it would if anyone except Michael, his dad, and honestly probably Mrs. and Mrs. Mell knew it.

A breeze passes through and the leaves shake a little bit, sun streaming through each leaf and making it glow, the clapping washing through the area. Jeremy eyes the spot he’d been waiting at for a second. He can practically see the blanket, almost reliving the heartbreak and hurt of that night. He can remember the panic of figuring out, the minutes wasted at Michael’s house, Brooke walking her dogs with Chloe, the lie about the sweater—that damn sweater. Jeremy physically shakes his head of those thoughts, closing his eyes as he does so, refocusing on the white painted wooden gazebo bench. You’re totally fine. He never realized the gazebo had a light inside of it, but now that he was seated inside of the beautiful shelter, it made sense why this was such a popular date spot. Not that this was a date, it was just something you’d suggested.

But should he have brought something for you? You did just get out of the hospital after some pretty serious stuff. Maybe he should’ve gotten you flowers or a small stuffed animal that can fit in your bag; just a reminder that he cares and is there for you. Then again, if either of those things were found, that might be another reason for you getting injured at the hands of the inhuman monster you were dating.

Jeremy can hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and his head whips around to see you, giving him a smile. He notices your hand gripping the railing and immediately rushes up to help. Stepping down two of the stairs, he offers his arm to lean against for extra support. You gladly take it, smiling as a small “thank you” slips from your lips. The two of you get to the top, but Jeremy can’t fathom letting go as you step across to the bench that Jeremy had been sitting at. Another breeze, more clapping and sunshine. When the two of you reach the bench, Jeremy helps you sit down, flashes of grimaces come across your face, clearly still in pain from the events that happened before.

Once you’re seated, Jeremy follows suit, giving you some space so that if you need to adjust at any moment, you’re able to. It’s now that Jeremy is reminded of just how badly things had gotten. You had been in the hospital for a week and a half, but you still needed help doing basic actions, and probably had to recover from any movement. If it was from anything, it was probably the ribcage that really did you in. Jeremy had heard of really terrible abdominal surgeries, how patients can’t move properly for a while afterwards. Maybe that’s why he was so inclined to help you. Well, that, and what kind of deranged animal wouldn’t help someone who needed it? A person appeared in Jeremy’s mind, one that you knew too well, before he dismissed the thought and refocused on you.

It was now that Jeremy realized his sweater was in your hand, probably from the bag that now sat next to you. The sun kept shining as you began to speak, smiling at him with that sweet smile he’d seen several times before, and yet always seemed to forget how it made it him feel until it appeared on your face once again. “Hey, thanks for meeting me on such a weird notice. I wanted to meet up before we like get too busy because, you know, college and stuff.”

“No problem,” a blush creeps over Jeremy’s cheeks. He can feel the moisture accumulate against his hands again—he’s nervous. He shouldn’t be nervous around you anymore. He inhales, ready to say more, but you get there faster than he does.

“How are you?”

Blinking fast, Jeremy is taken aback by your question. He thought for sure that you wouldn’t ask about him. Wasn’t this meeting supposed to be about…he actually wasn’t sure anymore. But he was sure that he just wanted to see you again; maybe that’s why he’d said yes to meeting up at the same heinous spot. He somehow manages to stutter out a response to you, “O-Oh? I’m good. Yeah, uhh, how are you?”

You nod, eyes shifting to the floor before smiling at him once again. “I’m okay. Better now that I’m actually out of my house and doing something fun. Not just, you know, follow up doctor’s appointments and how I’m not supposed to do x or y or z until whenever.”

There’s a second that Jeremy can feel his entire face light up, turning redder than it had in weeks, perhaps since you’d agreed to go stargazing with him. You had just admitting to having fun with him. You wanted to see him, and Jeremy was just…so smitten by that fact. He can feel his heart flutter similar to a butterfly, almost hitting the edge of his ribcage so hard that he was sure it would make an escape. “I’m glad,” is all he can manage to get out, especially when you’re looking at him like he’s the entire world.

“Yeah, me too.” You smile wider before your eyes shift around, breaking away from your own gaze as you scan the gazebo. Your eyes finally land onto the flooring of the structure before you half mumble out a “Kinda sick of white walls right now.” A grimace comes across your face and remains for a few seconds, almost like those phrases alone could cause food poisoning in the next breath.

Jeremy pauses and remains observing you, just for a few seconds before it dawns upon him that you’re doing what he had been before—partially reliving that same fateful night, flashes from the white hospital walls and whatever else you’d seen. He isn’t sure what the interior of your boyfriend’s house looks like, but given that his house also has white walls, there has to be an element of that as well as the same hospital room you were so used to seeing. It’s what many would call a flashback, but he knows sometimes that doesn’t feel like the right term. He can practically see you crumbling, getting upset by your own attempt at a joke; knowing how damaging that is, knowing how painful it is that you just managed to hurt yourself while trying to be better, trying to forget. There’s a moment that he waits, debating on what to do, before making a bold choice and placing his hand onto the space between you to, having it rest onto the bench, palm towards the stars that would be appearing in a few hours. That way, it’s a choice, without you having to say something—usually normal bodily functions aren’t an option in these moments of needing help in the most eccentric way.

You look at his hand out of the corner of your eye, Jeremy’s gaze softening as he realizes you’re contemplating doing it. If there’s something he wants to be for you, it’s comfort, safety, the idea that he’s soft and would never, and he means ever, hurt his significant other intentionally. Fuck, he wouldn’t even do that to his friends. He doesn’t realize he’s beginning to zone out until Jeremy feels your hand slip into his open one, a contract of trust being enforced with every passing second that physical contact is made. He can see the etchings of the bruise that had been there before slipping out from behind your light long sleeves. You’re still staring at a specific point, unaware that every ounce of light around you now seems to point to you, as if you were the most important star in every galaxy, any galaxy. His mind shifts through the things that had been said to him by Michael when he got like this after the SQUIP, memories, choices, things haunting him as your mind flashes through everything. It’s now that he decides that Michael’s sayings might not work right now. So he shifted to the things Christine used to tell him; things she’d looked up because she cared and wanted to help so much. He can recall a specific phrase she’d said, one that rang in his head louder than anything else; the most important one that had ever been said. He quietly, almost a whisper, sent the phrase out, hoping it would help: “Hey, it’s over now. It’s okay.”

There’s a moment that you process the information before nodding and moving your head back to him, every quickly following. Your back is still practically cemented to the wall of the gazebo. Your hand squeezes his before you let go of it, finally letting Jeremy get a full view of your face when it’s just resting. He can see the outlines of the bruise and marks you had, your attempt at hiding them with makeup, but chose not to say anything. It was better for the both of you to leave the topic alone. He could feel himself tense, however, at the bruises that still littered your neck, the marks of struggle, of oxygen deprivation still there, almost glaring at him from the depths of that night. You softly whisper a “sorry” into the air, almost masked by the gentle breeze that keeps making its way through the area.

“It’s okay. I can’t imagine how hard this has been.” Jeremy wasn’t lying. He actually didn’t know about everything you were going through. He had an idea, but he obviously didn’t have all the information.

“Thanks.”

There’s another pause, and the air finally settles around you two, sunrays more golden than before, almost making the scene around you two angelic. It was like good was streaming through the gazebo and the park, even though almost everyone in the time zone had the same golden hour experience. But they didn’t matter right now. Their moment in the gold wasn’t as important as this one between you and Jeremy. It’s now that Jeremy notices that the dog and their owner is long gone, the jogger probably home for dinner. It’s just you two, spending time together in the secluded area.

A vibration rings out into the air, and you immediately look over, tension now shooting through every muscle, no matter the pain. It’s involuntary, a reaction, a reflex at this point. You picked up you phone; it must’ve just been resting on the bench, and read the message to yourself, not saying anything. Jeremy assumed that it was your mom or your best friend, despite the tension that was definitely something you’d been trained to do. Yeah, it was probably your parents asking about where you were, when you’d be home, or your best friend asking about when you’d be available so that you two could see each other before the ever-looming departure to college. You look you’re your shoulder, a flinch, before scanning the area around the gazebo, Ford’s Park never looking so graceful. There’s a pause, a rest, before you lock your phone, not typing out a reply and setting it back beside you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, tempted to look around in the same manner you just did.

“Yeah, totally. Just uhh I have plans after this. My boyfriend wants to make things up to me. But you now, he said he wasn’t home so uhh I was just making sure he wasn’t around. I don’t want to put you in danger, especially when all you’ve done is be my friend when things got rough. You shouldn’t be punished for that.”

Jeremy freezes. The warmth that was once around him, and frankly in him from your presence, was gone. You just said boyfriend. Not ex-boyfriend. Meaning that you were still in a relationship with him, meaning you were still in danger, meaning that this meeting just got that much more crucial; you couldn’t be seen in public with him, or else who knows what would happen? It was just accusations last time, right? But if he saw this, what would that mean? And why hadn’t you left him in the safety of the hospital? Why hadn’t you—

Jeremy stops himself. He knows that’s victim blaming, how hurtful those thoughts are, how painful it is for someone you consider a friend to say that. Refocusing, he notices that the end of your sentence was about him being in danger. But what about you? His heart sunk. You put him above yourself; you don’t care about what happens to you, even while still injured and still needing help to walk a few feet and up any stairs. At this point, another beating, another session of abuse, could result in your death. Fuck, how long had it been since someone told you that you mattered? And not just because you were supposed to work as a therapist, parent, and partner to someone who didn’t deserve it? How long had it been since someone had shown you some kind of softness that didn’t come from the short sessions with him? Because to him, you deserved it constantly and consistently. You deserved to be happy in your skin, or with someone if you so chose to. Not whatever the fuck this dysfunctional thing was. You deserved—

“I know, Jeremy. I know it’s bad that we’re dating still. I want to break up with him, I just…don’t know how.”

Jeremy nods, still somewhat staring off into space before meeting your eyes. “That’s totally understandable.”

And it was. Things like this needed to be handled with care. His thoughts drifted off into how you could break up with him safely, but his mind kept getting blocked. He didn’t know a lot about this situation, he didn’t know a lot about your boyfriend. He just had the urge to keep you safe. Then again, what about your parents? Didn’t they know what happened? And your best friend? The ones who were there for you when you needed it?

“What’s up?” You interrupt his thoughts once more, Jeremy warping back into the tranquil park, still abandoned by everyone except you two. A minute of worry soars from you; and suddenly Jeremy knows how quiet he’s been. He knows what that must read to you. He takes a second to relax, telling himself that it probably wasn’t good to blame your friends and family. If anything, your best friend was probably in the same boat as Jeremy. It wasn’t fair to think these things about you or your lifestyle, especially that you’d just confessed that you wanted out. It’s not your fault, this whole time, nothing has been your fault, despite what you’ve been told. And that was another thing, your boyfriend probably lied to people, they probably thought you’d just fallen down the stairs or something that wasn’t his fault. A lie he could perpetually tell himself so that he could continue to live in a lie.

“I’m just thinking about this whole situation,” he finally responds.

“I know, I’m stupid for not doing it sooner and stuff, but fuck, Jeremy, you have to understand that it’s not always bad. Sometimes it looks like everything is going to go back to what it was when we first started dating. This, right now, is an upswing until I’m back to full health. You know, like full HP.”

Both of you chuckle at that last statement, ease seeping through the wide windows of the gazebo as the sun continues to set in the West. It’s easier to talk now, and Jeremy fully understands your coping mechanism—or at least to understand that jokes from you are to laughed at, encouraged, and that it was just you talking about feelings in that typical passive way. The chuckles break out into full-fledged laughter after a second, something about “unfortunately, this isn’t like Zelda, where I’m going to get extra hearts for beating a boss”. The laughter was the only thing to beat out the whispers of the breeze, making the gold not only coming from the sun, but from you as well. It dies down after a minute or two, and finally you settle back down. Jeremy now notices the flinch that comes with laughter now, and he quickly has an “Are you okay?” flying from his mouth.

“Yeah, Jeremy. I think some of my pain meds are wearing off, but I think this conversation is worth it. I haven’t laughed like that in like decades.”

There’s another second that Jeremy nods before he speaks up again, concern laced with his words. “I would offer advice, but I don’t know the entire situation as well as you do. Please be safe though, okay?”

“Jeremy, you don’t need to worry about me. You should focus on you for a bit. I mean, we’re going off to college soon.” Your eyes set into the distance, almost fixed on one specific branch of a tree just outside of the gazebo. It’s similar to the one he’d seen a few minutes ago, but less intense. It’s more a deep in thought stare, rather than a mental health endangering gaze. But still, Jeremy can sense something is off.

“You okay?”

It’s soft and quiet, but he can see your hands tensing and clenching together, jaw remaining stoic. “Hmm?” you recover after a few seconds, unclasping your hands. “Oh, uhh yeah. Just thinking too much.”

The air settles as Jeremy’s mind turns its gears; he’s definitely heard that before. It only takes a few seconds before it pinpoints the exact reference. “Did you get that from Kate Marsh? Life is Strange, episode 1?”

“Shit, Jeremy, maybe you know me too well.”

You two laugh again, and even though yours is a little strained, the moment is almost perfect. This is what that night a week and a half ago should’ve been. Soft blushes, laughing at jokes that only you two understand, light hearts, light minds, and absolutely no worries. The added element of the stars would’ve made this moment absolutely marvelous, but the golden light turning pink would do; it was absolutely better than nothing, playing video games in Michael’s basement while worrying about your well being as Michael kicked his ass at Mario Kart again. But this? Yeah, he wouldn’t trade this time, this moment, for anything in the world. The laughter doesn’t continue for much longer, dying down into nothingness. The sun continues to set, almost making you look radiant. Jeremy’s heart skips a beat before he continues the conversation.

“What were you thinking so hard about?”

You almost flinch at the question, your own thoughts, anything that was happening in your brain before. Wiping your hands on your pants, much like Jeremy does, you begin to fidget, words coming shakily and oddly out of your mouth. “I don’t know. Just like I’ve lost a lot of friends and I don’t want to lose you. I think you deserve some stress-free alone time.”

Jeremy’s heart sinks. He offers up his hand once again, in the same manner as before, knowing that holding hands is grounding and helpful to him; he’s sure it’s helpful to you. He can see the hurt, the things he’d seen before, both in himself and in you from the past few minutes, past few months, but this time there’s an element that isn’t there before. You were alone. You were isolated. And most importantly, you thought that you were a burden to everyone, including your friends. This is exactly what your boyfriend wanted. He wanted you to not have a lifeline so that this could go on for years. Just like the SQUIP had done to Jeremy with Michael and with his dad. But Jeremy considered himself pretty smart. He knew the tactics, and knew that no matter what, no matter how hard your boyfriend tried, Jeremy would still call himself your friend. He’d been in the same situation and was still grateful to Michael. This was his chance to return the favor. He saw himself in you, saw that you needed someone, and Jeremy was more than happy to be that someone.

Throughout the thoughts, Jeremy’s hand must’ve relaxed, it folding in like a dead spider in the middle of winter. And the only way he knew that was because you grabbed your hand in his, squeezing it tightly, almost awakening him from a daydream of essentially being your hero; the protagonist that maybe doesn’t get the love interest but helps them get out of their crappy situation. He can feel your eyes on him, waiting for him to say something, anything. The desperation slipped through your gaze and oozed into Jeremy’s life.

But he doesn’t really have anything to say. Instead, he meets the gaze, mustering up all of the softness in his heart—which, was a lot while hanging out with you, at any given moment. He can feel himself change with every millisecond that you two are observing each other, hands perfectly intertwined. He squeezes back, and see the corners of your mouth turn upwards, pink making it’s way into your cheeks like pink had made its way through the sky, the golden hour slowly fading away. The rest of the world fades away, everything except the gazebo untouchable, you two unable to be disturbed in this beautiful moment, soft breezes keeping the temperature at almost a near perfect.

You sigh, shoulders relaxing as you keep your eyes stuck on him, love—platonic or not—steeping in the twilight. You inhale a little bit before something leaves your lips, a truth that had been always an undertone finally becoming an overtone. “Shit, I need to leave him, huh?”

Jeremy just nods, his thumb gently gliding across your hand, forming patterns, circles, and calming figures.

“How am I gonna do that? I’m sorry for like, talking about it. It just hits me sometimes.” Your eyes had broken the moment by now, again staring unambitiously at the world around you.

“You know him better than I do, but if you need my help, I’m prepared to do anything to offer it.

You nod before smiling at Jeremy once again. This time, you use your other hand to prop yourself up, turning yourself towards him. He wordlessly offers his other hand to help you, but you wave it away, almost creating a secret language between the two of you, enjoying the silence, the little stress of the moment. Another minute passes, and there’s an urge that soars in Jeremy’s chest. He knows it’s a bad urge, it’s something that should be suppressed, but he can see the same thing in you. There’s a second, a confirmation, before both of you begin to lean in, your other hand working as a kickstand while Jeremy squeezes your hand, slowly almost pulling you into him, into comfort, into something you both seemed to want. You smile widely as he follows your actions, excitement bubbling up and out of him as chuckles leave both of your mouths. It’s almost awkward, but it isn’t. The laughter makes it better, ringing out the rush of leaning in to kiss someone you like spending time with, someone you’d do anything for, someone who makes your life better, someone who keeps you grounded in every small and large gesture. The laughter rings out and circles around you two, finally getting close enough where Jeremy is about to speak, about to make sure this is okay, that you’re as comfortable as he is, that you want this as much as he does. He can see your hand out of the corner of his eye, a constant reminder to be gentle; you’re still injured, maybe you’d need his help once you two finally get to the end goal of this urge. Inhale. He opens his mouth for a second, ready to ask that one necessary question—

When your phone vibrates instead. He continues to hold you hand as you check your phone, both of you already knowing who the text is from, both of you knowing that this meeting is officially probably over. You sigh and lock your phone, still no reply coming from you. There’s a second that you squeeze his hand extra hard before you say something maybe not so surprising to him. “I wish I could stay here forever.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

You stop for a second before looking back at Jeremy, “Do you think I could cancel, or would that be shitty of me?”

Jeremy contemplates the choices. Cancelling like this could be dangerous, no matter how good the upswing. As much as he wants to spend the night with you, holding you and keeping you safe for sure, making sure you’re getting rest, fluids, and following every doctor’s orders, you need to be there. For your safety. “As much as I want to stay here with you, maybe?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you give a sad smile before continuing, “So, I should go. I mean, I’m supposed to be there now, but I don’t know, I lose track of time talking to you, I guess.”

He nods, unsure of how exactly to respond to that, before you give a little smile at him, this one brighter, genuine, the one he craves even in the deepest sleep. You let go of his hand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over yourself carefully. Your hand grabs his blue sweater, and you give it to him, folded nicely. Jeremy can’t help but put it on, it smells like you, brings sweet reminders of all-too-good moments that you no less than deserved. You blush, and he returns it, wordlessly telling each other how important that one article of clothing is. Placing your hands beside yourself, you get ready to stand up and be on your way.

Making a bold choice, Jeremy decides to help you up, standing before you with his arms stretched out, blue sweater reaching his wrists perfectly, delicately. You grab his hands, and he acts as a stabilizer, tugging you up as well as out of the seat. There’s a moment of equilibrium before you almost crash into him. He moves his hands by instinct so they wrap around you, holding you up against him, giggles coming from both of you as the action is done. The both of you get stable after a second, the giggles fading as you two realize your faces are inches apart from one another.

Jeremy looks at you, making sure you’re okay; you’re not usually this quiet. What he sees etched into your features is a look he hasn’t seen before. It’s like your committing every aspect of this moment to memory, every curve of his face, the way he blushes (which he was sure he was doing), the way that the conversation went, every noise, every time the clapping leaves made themselves known, the depleting of the golden hour, every hue that is basked around you two, every little thing about every little moment—even the one that was fading away. At least, that’s what Jeremy can assume you’re doing; that’s what he’s doing. But this look is something new, newer light inside of you making itself known like in a Pre-Raphaelite painting, eyes looking directly at him rather than somewhere in the distance. The best word he could come up with to describe the way you’re looking at him was wonder. You’re looking at him in wonder, almost like he’s everything. But that was a lie. You were everything; feeling himself looking at you in the same manner.

He can feel you inhale, body still somewhat against his as he helps you stay afloat. Your lips barely part, a simple request making its way into reality. “Jeremy, can I kiss your cheek?”

“Uhh…what?” Jeremy asks, still processing everything, still encrypting everything into memory. He finally catches up, face flushing red, “Oh uhh yeah.”

You smile at him, and he can feel that smile imprint onto his face, soft lips set his whole body aflame, passion keeping his face completely red, your touch still lingering on his cheek. You pull away and readjust so you’re just holding both of his hands like you once had. You begin to walk towards the steps, hands slipping out so you can grab the railing and make your way away. You aren’t that far away, maybe a foot if he was generous with scaling, before he catches himself, mind reeling still from the simple gesture you’d given him. “Wait,” he starts, before his brain finally catches up. “Can I kiss your forehead?”

Smiling, you nod and give a little “Yeah, of course.” His face breaks out into a wide smile; stepping closer to you and making sure that both of you are stable before he presses his smile against your forehead, giving a soft kiss to it as he can practically hear your smile as he pulls away. Everything is still for a split second before reality hits both of you once again, twilight quickly turning into night.

“I have to go.” Jeremy can hear the sadness in your voice as you rearrange once again, this time to walk down the stairs. Your gaze returns to what it once was, eyes almost glass as you look into the distance.

You two descended the three steps, you leaning against Jeremy the entire time. The moment you two reach the bottom, your arm extends as you walk away, hand slipping away from his in an almost sinisterly slow way. The touch is gone, the moments deceased to memory, as you stepped off, away, and back to your car that must have parked in a spot close enough that you didn’t need help walking back. It probably wouldn’t look great either if he was helping you that much, knowing that you were already late and if someone reported to your boyfriend that you were in his arms that would be just as bad as cancelling on him last second.

He watches you walk away, off into the distance before realizing how creepy that probably is. Jeremy grabs his keys from his pocket, phone still situated where it had been before. He walks carefully back to his car, hoping, wishing, that this is the last date you’ll ever be on with your boyfriend.

#Jeremy Heere x Reader #Jeremy Heere imagine #be more chill x reader #be more chill imagine #bmc x reader #bmc imagine

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 6 years

Text

Blood & Family

Part 1

Blood & Family Mastelist

Taglist

Summary: Klaus breaks the hybrid curse. Damon is bitten and the only way to save his life is through Klaus. Klaus accepts with one condition, Stefan and Astraea must come with him and do as he says.

Word Count: 1649.

After the death of Elena & Jeremy’s parents, Astraea- Hope, their cousin frequently visited them, but since it was hard for her to travel a lot while having school, and because her father was working really hard, he let her move in with her aunt Jenna. She knew everyone in town, due to her long stay in Mystic Falls before. Since she’s the nerd she is, she noticed many things that are wrong with the town that no one else would notice. She found out about some secrets as well, but she wasn’t scared of it. As a matter of fact, nothing seemed to scare her, she was adventurous, brave and fierce. She was kind to everyone she knew and even strangers. She didn’t judge people and believed in second chances. When she discovered that vampires, witches and werewolves existed, she kept it to herself at first, but since Elena was dating Stefan, she felt that it’s wrong to keep that from her. So, she went to talk to Stefan about it. “Hey, Stefan! There’s something urgent I have to talk to you about. Can we go somewhere private after school?” Stefan was a good person and she was confident that he wouldn’t hurt her when she confronts him. “Of course. Are you okay?” He looked concerned. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, it’s not about me” she reassured him. “Alright, where do you want to meet?”. “Uh, I don’t know. Anywhere private would do. Maybe cemetery?” She suggested before realizing it’s probably not the best place to confront someone but she didn’t back down. “So Astra what’s so urgent?” He finally came. “Okay. I’m gonna cut to the chase. Does Elena know?” She asked. “Know what? Astraea, you’re worrying me”. “Listen, I know that you are a vampire and I know everything about this town. Don’t worry I won’t say a word to anyone, not that they’d believe me anyway. I think Elena has the right to know” she admitted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no such thing as vampires” he chuckled nervously. “Then I’m sorry for this” she took a knife out of her jacket and stabbed him in the heart. Stefan took a step back and was shocked by what happened. She removed the knife quickly “ lift up your shirt, Stefan” she demanded. “You just stabbed me through the heart” his hand was on his chest. “Fine, I’ll do it myself!” She sighed before lifting his shirt up. “See, if you were human you’d be dead by now and blood would be everywhere. But you’re not human, are you? Vampires heal almost immediately. Don’t try to lie about it and say I missed, because there’s blood on your shirt and I heard the knife pierce through your heart. I’m not here to judge you. I know you’re good, but Elena has to know. I wanted it to come from you and not me, but if you can’t tell her then I’d have to. It’s my duty as cousin to tell her the truth”. “How long have you known?”. “Long enough to know about how to kill, poison or hurt a vampire. Among many other things I’ve learned”. “Elena knows” he finally told her. “Oh! Then my work here is done” Rose was about to walk away but Stefan stopped her. “Since you now know, I suppose I should tell you about what’s happening right now”.

“This sounds serious”.

“It is. Come with me” Stefan took you to the boarding house where you met with the others.

“So you knew the whole time and didn’t say a word, why?” Damon asked.

“Well, we’re good friends and you basically tell me everything, specially when you need me to lift up your spirit. I figured if I told you that I know what you are and that I can’t be compelled then you’d stop, I enjoy our little talks” she shrugged.

“Now I’m gonna have to kill you” he joked.

“Don’t worry! Your secrets are safe with me” she reassured him.

“Let’s get back to the topic. So, Elena is a Petrova Doppelgänger and is needed for a sacrifice. I don’t know how much you know, but there’s a original vampire called Klaus who doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants. If Elena doesn’t surrender, he’s gonna kill everyone she loves” Stefan informed her.

“But there’s a loophole. Elijah, his brother found a way to save me” Elena added.

“We don’t know if his way would work, Elena!” Damon interrupted.

“Okay so what’s the plan?” Astraea asked.

“We’re gonna try to stop him”.

“How so?”.

“We’re gonna rescue the vampire and the werewolf, but we still don’t know who or where they are”.

“Don’t you guys want to spend the day together?” Astraea asked Stefan and Elena and they both nodded.

“Go, we’ll take care of this. You know how good I am with solutions” She gave her a reassuring smile.

By the end of the day, Astraea was well informed and decided to go with Stefan, while Damon stayed behind and rescued the victims which were to be sacrificed, who turned out to be Caroline and Tyler.

“Hi! We haven’t been officially introduced. I’m Astraea Hope Dubois. You can call me Astra or A if you want” she extended her hand.

“Elijah Mikaelson. A pleasure to meet you Miss Dubois” he acted like a gentleman and kissed her hand.

Damon called Stefan and from Stefan’s facial expressions Asraea knew it wasn’t something good “What’s wrong?”.

“There’s been complications. Klaus has Jenna” Stefan informed them.

“Shit!” she sighed.

“Hey, we’ll get her back” Rick said.

They discussed the plan with Bonnie and Stefan decided to trade his life for Jenna’s.

“I’m coming with you. Before you say anything, I won’t actually be there with you. I’ll stay hidden, but I’ll be there in case something went wrong” Asraea insisted and Stefan agreed.

When he arrived at the scene, Klaus stabbed him with a wooden stake through the back and said he has other plans for him. When it was time for him to sacrifice Jenna, she rushed to the witch’s side and bit her, but before she could finish her off, Klaus stabbed her in the side. She was laying on the ground, feeling excruciating pain. Klaus was about to drive another stake through her heart, but was stopped by a voice.

“Uhm hello, sir. Mr. Mikaelson. I’m really sorry to interrupt. I know you’re in the middle of a sacrificing ritual that you probably have been waiting for a 1000 years or something but this can’t wait. Please don’t kill her! Take me instead. I don’t know why you didn’t accept Stefan’s offer, probably because you’re a sexist who prefers killing women, so here I am, please!” Asraea begged him to take her instead of Jenna. He smirked, left Jenna on the ground and walked towards her.

“A brave young woman with much energy. I like that, but you talk a lot” he caressed her cheek for a moment before hitting her strongly, making her lose consciousness.

The last words she heard was Elena screaming No!

“Hey, A! Astraea! Wake up!” Stefan came to her side to check on her. She opened her eyes and everything was fuzzy for a moment. She felt a heavy headache, which was natural considering she’s been hit by the oldest vampire and hitting the ground harshly.

“Where’s Jenna?” Was the first thing she asked.

He shook his head, signing that she couldn’t be saved. She tried to hold the tears back and succeeded. They watched as Klaus drained Elena.

Elijah couldn’t keep up his word and wasn’t able to kill his brother, instead he took him and ran away.

The next day, Elena woke up like nothing has happened to her. Everyone was preparing for the funeral and Damon informed Stefan and Astraea that he’s been bitten by Tyler.

“We’ll find something… a cure” Stefan tried to stay optimistic.

“There’s no cure, Stefan” while Damon lost all hope.

“”Hey! Don’t give up. There’s always a cure… I read it somewhere in those vampire books. You have to get the blood of a half werewolf, half vampire, a hybrid, the original one and the only one. At the time, this seemed impossible, but now Klaus is out there and he’s the cure. We should try to make a deal with him” She informed them.

“I’ll see what I can do. You keep an eye on Damon” Stefan planned.

—-

“You do everything I say and I save your brother. That’s the deal. One more thing, I want the girl too” Klaus demanded.

“What girl?” Stefan knew who he was talking about but had some doubts.

“The brave brunette, who came with you yesterday” Klaus explained.

“Astra!”.

“I don’t know her name. The human”.

“That’s not my decision to make. I can’t make that deal for her” Stefan rejected.

“Well, then there’s no deal. Let’s see how long you’re brother can survive” Klaus smirked.

“Wait! I’ll call her now”.

Stefan put her on speaker and didn’t know how to start so he just said it.

“Hey A! Klaus agreed to give Damon the cure on one condition. That you and me go with him”.

“What? What do I have to do with all of this?” She was confused.

“Hello, love! We haven’t been formally introduced. You see I was a bit busy the other say and didn’t have time to chitchat. I don’t want you to have the wrong idea about me. So come, let’s talk or the deal is off” Klaus snatched the phone from Stefan and smirked as he spoke to her.

“So, there’s no third choice here. Can you give me Stefan back, please?”.

“Since you asked nicely” he handed him the phone back.

“I want to save Damon and I trust you. So, yeah. I accept”.

“Thank you, A!”.

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lucarioisinthevoid · 5 years

Note

*cracks neck* OKAY JERRY we're gonna perform a ritual to summon a portal to the void so i can ask henry what the FUCK the question mark tag bullshit is about. take this saltshaker and pour its on me while i balance this spoon on my nose. make sure to do it directly in the center of the pizzeria.

Henrywas standing up a bit straighter, confused. “What- what is happening? What arethey trying to do there?!” “They are trying to open a portal to the void to ask you what the FUCK thequestionmark tag means!” “I got that far, thank you VERY much. I meant, WHY are they opening a portalfrom the restaurant, instead of coming here? They are ruining my plans! Aninterference like that, this amount of distortion near my machine will-““Maybe that is why they do it?” “No- NO, NO- I will NOT allow that-“ Angrily he moved forwards. “I have TAKENthe boy. I PUT him where the others were-“ Something seemed to snap in him. “The machine may not be stable, but I assureyou, I refuse to play along in this disgusting charade any longer. I am sick ofthis, I am sick of ALL of this! Of these nonsensical Anons! Of these emptyconversations! Of the fact that you are BREATHING! No more. I will break thisreality once and for all.” “U-Uh, Henry you-“ Ignoring the kid, he walked towards the machine, booting it up. “I havegathered so many soul fragments. Do you even UNDERSTAND how hard it is toextract souls out of things that shatter? Out of all those little passions- itwas work, too much work to have it all go to waste because of one foolish anon.What is there so hard to grasp? Jeremy. Jeremy ? Is it truly Jeremy? NO IT ISNOT. THAT WAS OBVIOUS! To be fair- it was probably… hm… 13%. Which is a goodbit, compared to the… others. But it took quite a toll on him, did it not? Itchanged him up a lot. He did a few favors for me… the Puppet is out, the PhoneGuy is out- I have PLANNED, I have CREATED and now it is supposed to be alldestroyed? No. I will take all of it with me.” “… I´m mildly concerned.” “Rightfully so.” The machine began blinking and beeping. “I have planned awhole finale. I have planned out a showdown. I have planned so many things andnow THIS anon…” He sighed. “Does not matter. Time to see what my work can do.” Reality tore.-

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!”

“BOYS AND GIRLS!”

“GATHER ‘ROUD, GATHER ‘ROUND!”

“SIT BACK, RELAX AND PLEASE STAY AT YOUR SEATS!”

The spotlights lit up and wandered around, searching for the people screamingtheir lungs out, which was rather unnecessary, seeing as they were alreadyenhanced by the speakers at the sides. What came out was a rather unpleasantstatic mess.

“FOR TODAY YOU’RE AT THE ONE AND ONLY!”

“THE LEGENDARY!”

“THE MYTHICAL!”

“THE INCOMPREHENDABLE!”

“WORLD OF OLD SPORT!”

“Wait, that’s not what we agreed to say-“ The spotlight found the two, Old Sport, who was wearing something close to asuit and Dave, in Springbonnie. Actually, that Springbonnie looked… patched up.They proceed to argue. “But Sportsy! You’re the main attraction!” “No, Dave, not everybody is-“Another Old Sport proceeded to walk on stage. “Excuse me, but what in the actual fuck-“A painful smashing sound was audible in the background, together withtrademarked swearing. “WHO IN THE ACTUAL FUCK DID PUT THE FUCKING LIGHTS OUT, ISWEAR TO GOD THIS PLACE IS A FUCKING SHITHOLE, THIS IS HELL-“ “Uh. Mike. I think we have a bigger problem then the, uh… lights.” A pause ensued after Phone Guy said that, followed by Mike’s reaction to the happenings on the stage.“OH FUCK NO.” “W-wait, was that another Phone Guy?” Phone Guy asked.“IF YOU’RE FUCKING WITH ME I WILL LITERALLY KILL YOU-“ Jeremy joined. “F-found the light switch! Everybody calm down!”All the lights turned back on and everyone was stunned. There were three clonesit seemed- a Phone Guy, an Orange Guy and a Purple Guy, all standing around, inblank terror.Lies, actually the Zombie-bunny was screaming. “TWO OLD SPORTS?! HOLY FUCKIN’SHIT! THIS IS INSANE! I AM IN HEAVEN!” This triggered the other Dave to protectively hold his Old Sport. “Back off, yafilthy copy! This one’s mine!” For a moment things calmed down, as nobody knew how to react. Until a new voice joined, voice only- Well, actually most of them knew, even if they haven’t heard it in decades. “Well, well, well. A universe rift thatapparently entailed multiple dimensions to be sucked in. How utterly predictable and boring.” Henry looked around, displeased beyond words. “No wonder it iswhat the kid went with.”To my defense, what else was I supposed to do?“Anything! Everything! Something!” With these words he managed to exclaim allhis distaste for this. Both Dave were just falling over, seemingly dead and while the Old Sport in suittried to help his partner, his counterpart froze up completely. The Phone Guys both let out some distressed beeping. This situation was toomuch. Mike scoffed. “Oh luck, it’s the pink-peach-mc-fuck-me-sideways.” At that Henry snapped up. “What did you just say?” “I said you’re a fucking piece of shit.” “Oh, I simply misunderstood.” Relaxing again, he inspected the corridors going off the mainarea closer. Endless, gaping hallways, so long you could only see blackness instead of anyend to it. “… at least it appears we will not have to walk into each other thatmuch. Apparently the places combined in regards to space too. What a relief.” “Oh, Mr. Miller!” Jeremy sounded glad, as he ran up to him. “You are alright!You made it! I knew you would, but- what… what happened w-while… n-not gonna lie, I was… it was scary…” How does this kid even still exist afterhaving his soul literally fractioned and partially banned into the void-But this wasn’t really worth thinking about. Not now, maybe later when he had settled in.Turning away, Henry proceeded to walk down the corridors, met with ever similarrooms, but not minding it. At least he had plenty of access to parts and robotsnow. It felt as if the rooms grew colder the further away he would go. “So. How do you think you can handle this? Did you even think for five minutesabout this event?” Softly he scoffed at nothing in particular. A bit, I guess?It’s… basically just that for a certain amount of time, people can ask for allsort of whacky AU shit and meetings! And if they don’t ask for anyone in particular, like they usually do, I just…send the anon to the normal crew. “This is unimaginable pointless and nonsensical.” Finally picking a room, some sort of office, hesat down in the comfortable chair and booted up the camera system. While theold computer was booting up, he went through the papers at the side. Hm. Complaints, bills, people begging to be let in again they swear they won’tyiff the fox after the first time it was a one time thing, and……… a list.

HenryWilliam/DavePhone GuysThe PuppetAnimatronicsDoggosFredbearEveryone who ever set foot into thisplace

… Henry turned, looking almost baffled. “You are completely and utterly serious?” Bold of you to assume you were the worst the multiverse had to offer. “You are implying I am even attempting in any way to be evil. Which isnonsense. It just happens to be perceived like that by clueless onlookers. So,indeed you are correct, if there is somewhat out there in the universe deliberately WANTING to be as evil as humanly possible…” Trailing off, he putthe paper away. “Thankfully, this will be fruitless. This isn’t a place to tella story. You know that perfectly well.”Maybe I want to have a bit dramatic potential for once. “Your askers are far more interested in sending copy pastas.”Well, if that makes them happy! But I still wanna play around with the idea. Atleast for a short bit. “Great. Another set of pointless events, right after the first one. How utterlyentertaining.” Oh, shut it, your existence is pointless. “Only because you are a bad creator.”I will call a magic anon to seal your lips for the next hundred asks. “I am thoroughly intimidated by that threat and plead with all my being. Imaginehow utterly horrifying it would be to have a valid excuse NOT to interact withanons. Please spare me.” Well, at least Jerry is back. Now somebody gotta reactivate the Marionette.

#henry miller #old sport #Dave Miller #phone guy #Jeremy Fitzgerald #mike schmidt #kiddo #event time #Shit I hope this isn't too cheesy

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ourdreamsrealized · 6 years

Text

Chapter Three: To Love a King

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3

A/N: Wow…This was a long one, and I apologize for how much time it took me to get this out. School was very busy, and then once I had the time to work on this, I was experiencing writer’s block. It ended up being 16 and a ½ pages and 6625 words. I actually am quite proud of this chapter, and it will probably be the longest chapter in this series. I don’t think it’s the best I’ve written, but I am happy with it to post it here. I hope to have the next chapter for you guys sometime next week.

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Thor Odinson (God of Thunder) x Reader

Synopsis: When you meet Thor for the first time, he’s a happy-go-lucky hero in need of your help, but as more chance meetings happen and a relationship begins to blossom between the two of you, you begin to realize that there is a lot more to this amazing man than meets the eye.

Inspired by @champion-ofthe-sun‘s post: { x }.

Rated: R

Warnings: Sexual Themes, Mild Gore, Triggers (Such as War) & Language

“…and Mr. Lee in room 130 has been having some bowel issues. I got him up to the bathroom a few times, but I’m worried about how loose his stools are.”

You considered the nurse’s words, nodding your head as you looked over his chart. “Alright…I’ll have a stool culture ordered again. If it smells as bad as you’re suggesting, I want to make sure he doesn’t have C diff.” You shook your head with a sigh, handing her the manila folder and leaning back in the chair. “Until then, just as a precautionary measure, I want everyone wearing gloves when entering that room. I can’t put him on full contact precautions without a confirmed diagnosis.”

“Makes sense,” the nurse, Victoria, said, getting up from her chair. “Anything else?”

“No.” You chewed on your bottom lip, crossing your legs as you went over a few things in your mind.

“Well, then, get going. Don’t you have a date with Georgina’s son tonight?” Victoria asked, putting away Mr. Lee’s chart and pulling out another one from the cart.

“I do…” You got to your feet, placing your pen in your lab coat pocket. “It’s our third date, actually.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shrugged your shoulders, lifting your arms from your sides for a moment before letting them fall back to place.

Victoria fixed you with one of the stares she usually reserved for a client or family member that was feeding her bullshit. A light, partially penciled brow was arched as she pursed her lips. “Liar. At this stage in the game, you’d be floating on air.”

“And who says I’m not?” you asked, coming to stand beside her, arms crossed over your chest.

“I do. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re not crazy about him, just like you weren’t crazy about Jeremy or Kevin or Peter or…”

“Okay. Okay.” You stopped her by lifting up a hand. You didn’t need everyone on the floor to know your history. “What’s your point?”

“Don’t lead the poor guy on, and take some time off dating. It’s clear you’re not over something or someone in your past.”

“You would have made a much better psych nurse. You know that, Victoria?” A chuckle escaped your lips as you turned your back on her and made your way towards the break room. You punched in the code, your left five digits wrapped around the door handle.

“Yes, but I like where I am now.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” You glanced over at her, using your foot to keep the heavy door open.

“Because you’re my boss.” She winked at you before heading over to one of her assigned patient rooms.

You grinned stupidly at her comment, and your steps became lighter as you grabbed your work bag and jacket before heading out of the unit and down to the lobby. Once out in the late afternoon air, you relaxed some. It had been a long day, and, honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was go on another date with a guy you knew you weren’t ever going to be serious about.

Such a shame, too. He was basically the perfect package: good-looking, smart, a gentleman, looking to settle down, makes decent money, has future plans…

But he’s not Thor.

You mentally scolded yourself for that comment because you really shouldn’t have been comparing a mortal man who worked with a banking company to an Avenger/god. Plus, you hardly knew Thor. You met him only twice before, so your feelings for him were completely founded in physical attraction.

It was superficial, so why hadn’t you gotten over him yet? It’s been two years, for heaven’s sake!

It must have been the thousandth sigh that left your lips that day, but this one didn’t help you any. Maybe Victoria was right…Maybe you should step out of the dating scene for a while, just until you moved on.

You pulled out your phone, unlocked it, and found Nick’s contact information. You called his cell number, placing your smartphone to your ear as you descended the stairs outside the hospital building to the sidewalk.

“Hello?” Came out in a friendly baritone two rings later.

“Nick?”

“Yes?”

“Hi. This is Y/N.” God, this was really hard. Always was, and you were pretty sure it would never get easier. “Listen, about our date tonight…”

“You want to cancel.”

His voice was laden with disappointment, and, in that moment, you wished you still didn’t carry a torch for Thor. You could have seen a future with Nick; if you liked him as much as he liked you, the two of you probably would have gone the distance.

“Yeah…I’m really sorry. I just am not in the right state of mind for anything serious right now…” you scoffed, waving down a taxi. “I really wish I was.”

“…I do, too. But, if you ever do feel you’re ready for something more, you have my number.”

“You’d be the first guy I’d call.” You tried offering some comfort with that statement because, really, Nick deserved it. He had been nothing but sweet to you.

His chuckle was half-hearted, but he genuinely thanked you anyway before you both bid each other goodbye and hung up.

You closed the door of the yellow cab, telling the driver your home address before sitting back against the seat. You looked from your phone to the city outside your window. A particular tower caught your attention, one you had spent a lot of time in just a few years ago. It was the last place you saw Thor, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to now.

The Avengers was on its way to destruction; the cracks were plain to see even during the events of Sokovia. Tony and Steve never saw eye-to-eye, and since no one really took an official leadership position after S.H.I.E.L.D. left the picture, the two most likely in the group were constantly butting heads while the rest of the members watched on, picking their own sides. Because of the drama and without a solid organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. to be your employer, you decided it was time to move on.

Of course, you only moved passed your time with the Avengers. Not with Thor. Perhaps, if you had had the chance to say goodbye, things would be different now.

Dwelling on the possibilities and what ifs made you choke up, so you forced yourself to think of less heavy things, such as dinner plans for this evening now that you weren’t going out and the list of things you had to do this coming weekend. Groceries, laundry, bills…The menial tasks.

Occupied by such things, transit time sped by, and before you knew it, you were in front of your building and handing the cab driver a couple of bills. You thanked him before heading up the stone stairs to the front door, and you were in the middle of opening it when you heard someone calling your name.

“Y/N!”

You froze at the deepness of the voice, knowing its owner almost immediately. You turned your head towards the direction your name had carried from, eyes widening as you took in the sight of both Thor and Loki, in street clothes no less. Although, the new garb did nothing to help either of them blend in. Thor was in jeans and a sweatshirt, but his long blonde locks were unmistakable. And Loki wore a pitch-black suit, his dark curls free from any bindings as he watched his brother come over to you.

“Thor?” You let go of the door handle, descending a few steps as a smile stretched across your face. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for my father, Odin,” Thor replied, stopping on the sidewalk in front of your building. He pointed his umbrella at you. “Did you just come home?”

“Yes. I was working, but if you two need help…” you glanced at Loki, still a bit wary of him, before looking Thor in his beautiful blue eyes, “I would love to offer my services.”

And that was how you ended up here. The death of the king of Asgard, a long lost sister (that you knew about from mythology by the way), and a whole other realm away.

God, you hoped you would still have your job after this. When you agreed to help Thor find his father, you didn’t think it would take more than a couple of hours. Yet, here you were, months later in one of the most degrading outfits you had ever had the displeasure of wearing.

You honestly felt like princess Leia, with just a thin, gold-colored bra to cover your chest and a long skirt, in a similar fabric, that started at your hips and went down to your ankles. You’d think such a garment would offer some coverage, but, nope, both sides of the skirt had slits up to the waistband.

The Grandmaster had also insisted that your neck be exposed as well as your feet, so shoes and having your hair down was not allowed when you were in his presence. He also gifted you with gaudy, poorly made jewelry, such as large hoop earrings and a multitude of bracelets.

You spent most of your time with, surprisingly, Loki, with no hide or hair of Thor. It was disgusting watching the God of Mischief kiss up to the Grandmaster, but you couldn’t say you were doing much better. You remained mostly silent, deciding to pretend you were mute, when they first found you among the garbage.

You really didn’t know how you managed to avoid the orgy parties, but Loki had been kind enough to make up excuses for you. Although, there were a few times that you showed you outright refused to be involved in such behavior, especially with The Grandmaster, of all people.

Still, he was the least of your concerns. Bruce was on this planet, and had been for a while, long before you and Loki showed up. However, he was not himself. He was constantly in his Hulk form and was quite childish. He was the Grandmaster’s champion, and you had seen him in action; he was completely taken by the crowd. Hence, him being fine with staying here and obeying the Grandmaster.

Your other concern, which consumed most of your days, was Thor. Had Hela killed him? You hadn’t seen him anywhere on this miserable planet, and Loki had not gotten word from him either. The thought of him being dead was too much to bear, but you soon accepted that maybe that was what had happened. Why else would he not come for you or Loki?

“Mute! Drink!”

The Grandmaster’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you realized that he had been referring to you. The nickname, Mute, was given to you when you refused to give your actual name, and it stuck, unfortunately. Even Loki would call you by the name.

You moved from your spot, standing beside him, and poured some of the dark liquid from the pitcher you held into his gold gauntlet. He lifted his other hand to tell you to stop, and you did as he asked, moving back to your spot.

“Are you excited for this match, Mute?”

You nodded your head, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. These competitions were getting rather mundane, considering you could always predict the outcome. If any contender even got close to defeating the Hulk, the Grandmaster would cheat.

“This one should be very interesting…” he smirked, sitting back in his seat as his giant hologram began to rile up the crowd.

You glanced at Loki, who sat across the box, leaning forward on his knees, elbows resting on them as he watched the challenger’s side intently. You wondered why he seemed so genuinely interested in this one; he usually only feigned enthusiasm.

Your gaze followed his to the contender’s door, seeing that it was now fully open. A small gasp blew passed your lips, and you brought up a hand to suppress anymore noise from your gaping mouth.

It was Thor. Even from all the way up above the colosseum, you knew it was him. Thor’s broad shoulders were unmistakable, and his muscular build was a dead give away. You had never seen anyone as big in stature as the God of Thunder.

But could he defeat the Hulk? Maybe, if it was a fair fight, but he wasn’t just dealing with the green mutant; he was dealing with the Grandmaster, who would not see his Champion lose.

You glanced at Loki again, and this time he caught you, nearly jumping when he saw your glare. He obviously knew that Thor was here, but he decided not to give you that tidbit of information. Why? Did he want his brother to be beaten to death?

What a stupid question. In the past, he would have done the honors, given the chance.

He would get an earful from you later.

Your attention turned back to the arena, where you saw Thor being booed relentlessly by the crowd. Above their negativity, the Grandmaster’s voice could be heard, announcing his champion.

You wondered how Thor would handle this. He did not know that he would be put up against a friend, but, somewhere in the Hulk, you knew Banner was there. Surely, he would recognize the Asgardian god, but then what? What would the Grandmaster do if his champion refused to fight?

Well–your eyes flickered to the Grandmaster for a moment before returning to the arena–you would soon find out.

The door that Hulk resided behind was torn to shreds as he entered the arena, his roar filling the air as he lifted his powerful arms. The war cry was followed by a shout of joy from the challenger, something no one was used to hearing.

You cracked a smile. Only Thor.

But your amusement was short lived as you watched the two converse. It was clear that the situation was escalating, but why? Didn’t Banner recognize Thor?

When Hulk rushed forward, his violent intent clear, you ran forward, placing your hands on the glass in front of you as you suppressed the urge to scream. You’ve seen what the Hulk could do, and even though Thor was his opponent, the Grandmaster would surely intervene if he got the upper hand.

This could only ever end one way.

Thor dodged his first attack, rolling to the side before bouncing to his feet. You bit your bottom lip, wincing from both the pain and how hard Thor was hit by the Hulk’s gigantic hammer. He skid across the ground, digging his weapon into the ground to eventually stop himself from flying further.

They then exchanged blows, Thor using twin blades, and Hulk still utilizing his supersized tools. You watched, holding your breath and nearly crying out when you saw Thor thrown into the colosseum wall, rock crumbling around him. He recovered, hitting his opponent back with a force much stronger, sending the green mutant through the colosseum wall.

The crowd went silent, and your heart stopped. As much as you worried for Thor, you did not wish harm on Bruce. He had always been kind to you, always inclusive of you.

Thor seemed to be as concerned as you, heading over to where Hulk had landed. You saw Bruce move, dazed and unsteady. You watched with bated breath as Thor held out a hand to him, an offer of truce, and you hoped the Hulk would accept it. He watched the blond god as he carefully approached, reaching out a hand…

For a moment, your racing heart slowed, and you felt joy, realizing that this must be it. This must be the end of the fight.

But it wasn’t.

Within the blink of an eye, Thor was being thrown around, the Hulk smashing him against the ground repeatedly. No mortal man would have survived the first blow to the head, even with the armor Thor sported.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as you looked on, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

Thor was sent flying, crashing to the ground with a horrible thud that you barely registered over the Hulk’s victorious roar. The spectators joined in, spurring him on, while the underdog got to his feet, now holding Hulk’s hammer.

The fight continued on, and it was a close one. There were times you were sure Thor would prevail, but then the Hulk would prove you wrong with a brutal attack. Eventually, it came down to just fists, no weapons, and when you saw him on top of the God of Thunder, repeatedly punching him, tears streamed down your face because you knew that had to hurt.

How could he bear it?

Then, just when you were about to give up completely, a bolt of lightening pushed the Champion off of his challenger. Now, it seemed Thor had the upper hand, and you had never seen such power before. He was a walking storm, each hit packing a punch that echoed like thunder.

The name being chanted from the stands switched. It was entertainment unlike any they had seen before. No one had given the Hulk such a hard time.

And that’s when the Grandmaster decided to do it.

In convulsions that made your own skin crawl to watch, Thor fell to the ground, and you couldn’t watch as the Champion took the opportunity and did what he did best: smash.

A sob escaped your throat as you turned from the glass. Almost immediately, you were in Loki’s arms, one of his palms on the back of your head, cradling it to his chest.

“Is he okay?” you whispered softly as the noise of victory died down.

“I can’t say, but I don’t think he’s dead,” Loki responded in a soft voice. “Not yet, anyways.”

Leisurely, deliberate claps reached your ears, and you lifted your head from under Loki’s chin to see the Grandmaster smirking at you. The expression on his face was enough to make you physically ill, but you held yourself back, pressing your lips together in a firm line.

“What a show, Mute,” he said, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you. “Were you really that taken with the Lord of Thunder?”

God. You wanted to correct him. God of Thunder. You clenched your fists.

“Well, I’ll be kind, then. Be grateful.” He laughed, folding his hands in front of him. “Since he and my champion are such good friends, I think I’ll allow them to be roommates. They can train together and give me more shows as good as this one. And, for providing such good entertainment, I’ll throw the Lord of Thunder a little bone…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not sure you were following just what he intended to do with any of you, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice.

“A bone?” Loki asked, a hint of malice in his tone as he tightened his hold on you.

“Why he no wake?”

You let out another sigh, reminding yourself to keep patient and calm, even if this was the twentieth time the Hulk had asked that question. “Because he was badly wounded, Hulk.”

“By me?” He almost seemed proud.

“Yes, by you,” you stated as you kept your eyes on Thor’s peaceful face. You moved carefully, so not to disturb him, as you dipped your cloth in a bowl of water the Grandmaster “oh so graciously” gifted to you. You wrung it out as best you could, keeping the lower half of your body still.

You had already examined most of Thor’s body earlier, looking for broken bones or any signs of internal bleeding. After the beating he went through, he should have had at least a few fractures, but there wasn’t a hint of swelling anywhere on his body, just a few minor cuts and bruises.

He really was a god.

“Why you hold him like that?”

Your cheeks flushed at the question. Why did the Hulk have to know why you were keeping Thor in your lap?

“It makes my job easier,” you answered. It wasn’t quite a lie. You could see a lot of his cuts closer up, and making sure you had cleaned them well enough was less difficult this way. “Plus, you won’t share your bed.”

Your green companion huffed at that, turning on the mattress to show you his back.

You shook your head at his childishness, wishing Banner would take over already. While Hulk did have his likeable moments, he had become quite the narcissist since becoming the Grandmaster’s Champion.

To say you were a little ticked off at him for treating Thor as an enemy was an understatement.

A groan from the person laying on your thighs made you still your hand, only gently dabbing at a particularly bad cut on his brow. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open only to be squeezed shut again as he lifted a palm to the top of his head. “Ow…”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, lowering the arm that was currently tending to his wound.

Thor opened his eyes again, gaze focusing on your face above his. “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

He shot up to a sitting position before groaning again, his body swaying slightly. You touched his shoulder, urging him to be more considerate of his condition.

Apparently, he was more concerned with your presence than his own well-being. He turned to face you completely, his legs crossed, blue orbs wide. “You ended up here, too?”

You nodded. “Loki arrived before me.”

“Wow…It is so good to see you!” he exclaimed, a boyish grin on his lips as he took in your appearance. “Are you okay? Did Loki look after you?” He paused, lifting an eyebrow. “Why are you dressed like that? That man…the Grandmaster? He didn’t lay a finger on you, did he? If he did, I swear to you, Y/N…”

You lifted your hands, attempting to calm him down. “I’m fine, Thor, really. Loki did watch over me…in his own way…And despite the get-up I am forced to wear, the Grandmaster has done nothing more than leer.” This knowledge seemed to placate the man before you, and he let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping.

His attention then shifted from you to the bowl and bloody rag next to it. “Were you caring for me?”

The way he phrased the question sent heat to your face, forcing you to bow your head. “Yes…Although, you did not need much first aid.”

“Regardless, I thank you for it.” He nodded, his calloused fingers brushing against your bare shoulder in a gesture of gratitude.

All was silent for a moment, save the Hulk’s snoring, until Thor parted his lips to speak again, his brows furrowed. “Your eyes are red. Were you crying?”

Slightly embarrassed that he had noticed, you chuckled nervously, still avoiding directly looking at him. “Oh…uh…I was at the match, and at the end, I thought you were, well…”

“Oh…You were watching the fight, then.” His baritone voice seemed flat. “It brings me great joy that you worried so much for me, but, as you can see, thanks to you, I am more than fine.”

“Yes. I seem to forget that you are a god.” You smile, trying not to dwell on his hand, which still rested on your left shoulder. It slid down to your palm, his fingers engulfing it as he brought your skin to his lips.

“Thank you, again. I seem to always find myself indebted to you.” His kiss lingered, and you knew you had to be red from head to toe because of it.

“It’s uh…no problem,” you replied, averting your gaze as his hands slipped from yours.

Thor got to his feet, turning as he took in his environment. “Where are we?”

“This is the Hulk’s room.” You stood, bending down to take the bowl of water from the floor. “He spends most of his time here or training.”

“I see…” he trailed off, heading towards the window. “Do you know how the Hulk got here?”

You met his gaze over his shoulder. “When I asked, he said he flew here.”

“Flew?” he whispered, mindful of the sleeping giant as he turned partially toward you, the sun illuminating the perplexed lines of his face. “How? He can’t fly.”

“I don’t know, honestly. I would assume the quinjet, but…” you shrugged, not quite confident in that assumption. You hadn’t thought to ask Hulk about it, and if it was on this planet, you weren’t sure it was in working conditions. Scavengers had probably dissembled most of it, selling or finding new use for its parts.

“That is very likely…” he said, falling silent as he looked over at Banner. He sighed after a few moments. “I’ll just ask when he wakes. We’ll need his help to escape.”

“He won’t want to,” you informed him, the corners of your mouth falling. “I already asked him if he would help me escape, but even when I begged, he absolutely refused to.”

“What? Why?” Thor’s brow knitted together.

“Well, I think he likes the attention he gets here. You’ve seen how they cheer for him in that coliseum.”

“I will talk to him,” Thor stated gravely, bringing a hand up to his face to stroke his beard. “We’ll need the help of the Valkyrie as well…”

“The Valkyrie?” Your face lit up like a Christmas tree, and you took a step closer to Thor. “They are here?”

He chuckled at your excitement. “One is. She’s actually the one that brought me here…But it won’t be easy to convince her…” His mood deflated as he said this. “She holds an immense amount of hatred towards me.”

“Why is that? From what I’ve read, they fight for Odin.” You shake your head, confused.

“They did…I don’t know what happened,” he exhaled, closing his eyes briefly. “This won’t be easy, but at least I have you on my side…” He trailed off, eyes narrowing as the focused on you.

Heat crawled up your neck as you withstood his intent stare, but it only got worse when he took long, deliberate strides to stand right before you, his hand lifting to touch the small, metal crater that was inserted into your skin. It matched his, and its purpose was no different. Should you act out, you would be punished.

You heard Thor’s sharp intake of breath, his lips pressing into a taut line. “Have they used this?” The tips of his digits caressed the skin near the obedience disk, causing you to unconsciously shiver. You prayed he didn’t notice.

“N-No…I haven’t given them a reason to.”

“Good.” His muscles relaxed, the severity of his expression disappearing some. “This complicates things. I have to find a way to get that off of you.” He withdrew his hand, backing away from you. “How long has he been asleep?”

“Huh? Oh…Hulk? He went to bed just before you woke up.” You blinked, cursing yourself internally for sounding like such a lovesick fool. You’d be beyond shocked if Thor didn’t know the effect he had on you and why.

“Shit…Okay. I’ll wait.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want to get him any angrier.” He sat down by the window, resting his elbows on his knees. After a few seconds of silence, and you awkwardly standing after putting the bowl down on a table, Thor turned to you. “Come, sit. Tell me of your life since Ultron.”

You gave him a hint of a smile before moving to sit beside him, and he shifted in the seat to face you better. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Since the Battle of New York, whenever Loki showed up, you weren’t the happiest of campers. You could tolerate him, but you didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him; for good reason, too, because he did try to betray both you and Thor during your escape from Sakaar, just as the God of Thunder had anticipated.

Now, however, as you were attempting to defend yourself against an undead army, you were the happiest you had ever been to see the God of Mischief. You were never a fighter, and maybe with a safe place for the Asgardians, you could actually begin to help those injured.

Loki spotted you immediately, yelling to his people to board the ship before making his way over to you. Once he reached you, he grabbed you by the shoulders. “Thor has told me that you have the power to heal.”

“Well, in a way…” You were about to explain how you had no magical abilities, that your methods were entirely based on medical science, but you decided that now was probably not the time.

“Come.” He wrapped an arm around your torso, fighting his way back to the ship. “I have found a healer!” Loki announced loudly over the sounds of frantic citizens. They made a path for you, allowing you to get aboard the spaceship ahead of many.

As soon as Loki had declared you someone that could help, people were rushing forward with friends and family members, asking for your help. It was very had to do with very limited supplies, but luckily, many were willing to offer up parts of their clothing as bandages. Quite a few people also had jugs of water, similar to canteens, while others had filled them with some form of alcohol.

Despite help from many, you were one woman, and it was very difficult to keep up with the number of patients you were receiving, some far more wounded than others. You tried to prioritize, and it became clear that this was also quite the task. You could not see all your patients at once, so it was hard to determine who was more in need of care than another. You tried your best to recall your training, including the ABCs of prioritization: Airway, Breathing, Circulation.

Finally, a brave Asgardian offered up her services, followed by a few others. You quickly explained what you needed them to do, giving them those that came in with less complicated injuries. With more people helping you out, you moved onto those that were hurt fighting the undead. And, god, you had never seen so much blood…You didn’t typically deal with stab wounds or missing limbs on your unit of the hospital, but, with your knowledge of how the body worked, you knew what you had to do.

The sounds of agonizing screams as you cleaned deep lesions or bound gaping holes would haunt you in your sleep. You were sure of it. Without access to painkillers, it was very difficult to care for those in writhing pain. You would have given them alcohol, and some did ask for it, but you were reserving it for sterilization because it did better than water.

What really killed you, though, was when you were unable to save someone. Their loved ones would be circled around you, and with one look at the patient, you knew, even as an Asgardian, they would not survive. You still did your best, but by then, those around you would realize it, too.

You didn’t have time to mourn with them, to exercise proper family-centered care, as you were taught to do.

Tears would stream down your face as you moved to the next person that needed you, and it didn’t sit well with you. Your own heart would tighten because you didn’t deal with death often–you were in the business of preventing death–and it meant you failed. While the more rationale side of you knew that there was nothing you could have done, your emotions refused to listen.

It made it hard to concentrate, especially with the sounds of war right outside. At some point, thunder had joined the cacophony, and you wondered if Thor had been victorious against Hela. But the fighting would of stopped right? The steady stream of patients would have stopped. It didn’t. You were still overwhelmed.

Why didn’t it stop?

The ship began to move, and your head cleared enough for you to focus again. You had all the time in the world to freak out later.

More people rushed in–the last, you thought and hoped–and you quickly urged a man close to you. “Keep the pressure on his elbow, please!” He just nodded numbly as you got to your feet, shouting above the screams. “If anyone needs medical attention, please come to me!”

And then you were flooded again. More volunteers came forward.

“What is your name?” A man with dark skin and eyes unlike any you had seen came forward, lowering a woman to the ground before you.

“I am Y/N.” The words were hurried from your throat as you ripped some of the woman’s cloak to wrap around the gash on her shoulder. “Hold my hand,” you told her, and she nodded, wrapping her fingers about yours. She squeezed, hard, when you doused her wound with alcohol and then drenched it with water to, hopefully, deaden the alcohol’s effect.

“So you are the one he spoke of,” the man whispered, helping the woman to her feet after you had wrapped her injury. She leaned on him as he stared at you, studying your features. “You are the Midgardian that lifted Thor’s hammer.”

“You know about that?” you asked, a bit breathless as you ripped more of your skirt for bandages.

“Yes. I am Heimdell,” he introduced himself with a small smile. “On behalf of all the Asgardians, I thank you for your help.”

“It is no trouble,” you said before seeing to a man who had lost his arm in battle. On your way to him, shots rang out, and you froze, eyes darting to the man who held two guns, similar to those that you had on Earth. You turned to Heimdell. “We are leaving Asgard?”

“Yes. Thor has asked that we do.”

“But he is still fighting?”

Heimdell gave you a look, one that answered all the questions you had lined up in your head. Your chest constricted, making it impossible to breathe, but you ignored the feeling and marched over to the man that was in need of care.

If Thor died, he would not die in vain. You would save as many of his people as you possibly could.

But, as fate would have it, Thor was on the ship with Valkyrie and the Hulk minutes later, making a ruckus as he called for you. When he saw you, he did not hesitate to take you from whoever you had just finished tending to and bring you into his arms.

“You are well,” he said, chest heaving as he pulled you in closer. He smelled of sweat and blood, but you didn’t care. His hug calmed you in ways you did not understand; after just being through a war, something you had never experienced before, you were moments from falling apart.

You peered up at him, choking on whatever words you had for him when you saw…

“What the fuck happened to your eye!?”

And the blond bastard just let his head fall back, his one remaining eye squeezing closed, as his booming laugh filled your ears.

“There.” You took a step back, exhaling softly as you lowered your arm to your side. “I’ve never had to patch up an eye, but I suppose there is a first time for everything.”

“Yes. I suppose so.” Thor’s lips stretched into a grin, but something about it was fake. How could he smile in such times, when he had been through so much?

You stared at him for a moment, and, evidently, your scrutiny was too much for the god. “What?”

Moving to sit beside him on the bed, you took his hand in both of yours, peering at his face. “How are you?”

“What do you–?”

“This couldn’t have been easy for you. Hell, I’m still having trouble with everything that happened, but you’ve just been through a lot more than I have, Thor. You lost a father, you killed your sister, and your home has been reduced to space dust. And that’s just the main stuff.”

Thor chuckled lightly, but there was nothing cheerful about it. He put his other hand on top of yours, patting it gently. “All that happened, yes, but those are matters I don’t really have the energy to think about. What is really bothering me, is the role I must assume. I have people I have to take care of.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as his blue eyes captured you, making you unable to look away.

“How do you do it?”

You leaned back in shock, not having expected him to ask you that, of all things. You scoffed, pulling away from him slightly. “I…Wow. Um…Thor, being a king and being a nurse are very different things.”

He shook his head, the wrinkles accompanying his laugh genuine this time. “You are wrong, Y/N. Your training, while not inclusive of the aspects of governing a country, does include the basic thing that a king must have.”

“And what is that?”

“Compassion.”

You giggled despite his seriousness. “Then why are you asking me what you already know?”

And for the first time since he met Valkyrie, you experienced a sight that set your heart aflame: Thor being embarrassed. He bowed his head with a tint of pink to his face. “I suppose you are right…”

“Thor.” You scooted closer to him, meeting his gaze. “You will make a fine king.”

The corners of his mouth lifted as he moved his dominant hand from yours to slowly brush your cheek with his knuckles. “Thank you. For everything. And I am sorry…So very sorry…”

Your breath caught in your throat as Thor sincerely apologized to you, and water blurred your vision of him. “Don’t apologize.” You begged. “Please.”

“Oh, Y/N…” You felt him touch the side of your face, fingers brushing the soft curve of it. “Do not cry.” His voice cracked as he said this.

“You know…” you sniffled, lifting a hand. “I just…I saw a bit what war is like today as well as its casualties…And despite the fact I should have been focused on what I was doing, maybe I would have saved a few more people…”

Thor hushed you, cupping your face in both his large hands, thumbs swiping away the drops that spilled down your skin. “You did more than enough. Asgard thanks you for it.”

“But…all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to lose you…” you sobbed, closing your eyes to avoid seeing his reaction to your confession. “And I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want to go back to Earth and just go on living like this never happened because I won’t be able to…”

Thor’s fingers stilled long before you finished speaking, and when all was silent, save your staggered breathing and the pounding of your blood organ against your chest wall, you felt warmth upon your tear-stained cheeks. Strong arms pulled you into a body that radiated heat, and supple lips brushed against yours.

“I won’t be able to, either.” The words were soft against your mouth as a palm came up to run along your temple. “I need you, too.”

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angelofthenightposts · 6 years

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Feel it still. // Ch.3

Series Masterlist. | My Masterlist.

It is the end of August, and Varuna is full of people trying to cool down a bit. The last few days, the weather is unbearably so hot that the air conditioners began to break down for overuse. You wipe the sweat on your forehead away and place the empty beer bottles in the back. Your friends are settled in the high stools on the other side of the counter and they all are having a conversation about the last soccer game. You grab a cold beer for yourself; in the end, nobody’s working at this fucking stupid bar as much as you do.

Bucky, Sam, and Steve often come here after work hours, they have a meal, greasy hamburgers, and fries, with beers and after your shift, you all walk back to your apartment. Michela is the newest participant in the group; after finding out that her profession is modeling, your friends started to take a really good interest in her and her world full of beautiful women; they all know in the end that nothing’s going to happen between them and still, they tried. You look at her; she is sitting next to Sam and listening to him.

“How’s it going, guys? Are we enjoying the night? “You put the damp white towel on your shoulder and approach them, your hands on the wooden counter and your body is slightly leaned towards them. Steve tells another joke as he finishes his beer and this time you laugh with them too.

“You have to pay for it.” Of course, you’d love to give them a free beer occasionally but if you know if they continue to drink at this high speed, you are going to have to pay for it all. Steve pouts his lips and gives you a puppy look; he knows for sure it works on you damn well. “Fine, but this is the last time; I’m not shitting golds here.”

“Can I get a refill too?” Michela asks as she hands you her empty vodka glass and you have no other choice than nod.

“So you guys are saying that jackass was right. They say the customer is always right, but it doesn’t give him the right to treat me like nothing.”

It was an hour before, a drunken customer annoyed the shit out of you, and all he did was yell at you as if you were his personal bartender. You, of course, couldn’t hold your tongue anymore and replied to his rude comments about your mixing skills. He made a big thing of it and caused a small argument between you. When the bar manager left his room at the back to come and scold you, you gave the fakest smile you could ever give and mumbled an apology.

“You should’ve stayed calm though. When it comes to the things like that, you have to step back take a deep breath.”

You look at Steve in disbelief, unable to hide the frustration in your voice. Sam after he takes a sip of his delicious cocktail nods at his friend, "Steve is right; sometimes you get so blinded by anger.”

“No, I don’t.” Okay, you aren’t going to even try to lie about it but Bucky’s little snort makes your blood boil. “So basically, you all think I’m a hot-headed person. You know what, fine; from now on, I will try to treat people as sweet and friendly as a nun. Let’s try your way."

"Come on doll, we all know that you won’t be able to last for an hour.” You squint at Bucky, he looks so confident but you are serious and determined to prove them wrong. Bucky arches an eyebrow and a snarky grin start to form on his lips.

The competitive attitude between Bucky and you draws the attention of the rest of the group; you shake his hand to show that you accepted his challenge and Steve excitedly tells, “Oh, it is on!”

“If you get angry, scold or reject someone immediately, you lose. The bet is going to last for 24 hours and the loser will agree to do something that the winner wants, no matter what.” Bucky tells the rules and you nod at him. “I look forward to winning this one, angel.”

You roll your eyes at his confidence, “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, Bucky.”

You want to scream the moment you wake up sweating like a pig. When you came home last night, four of you looked desperately at each other as the light flashing indicating that the air conditioner is broken; it was so hot that you all had to take cold showers to fall asleep. You just hope that the bathroom would be available as you get off the bed and grab your bathrobe. The others are already awake, it sounds like that Sam and Steve are in the living room. The door of Bucky’s bedroom opens and you stare at each other, he has a towel in his hand.

“Hey, Buck, are you gonna take shower?” If it wasn’t for the bet, you would run into the bathroom beforehand and lock the door before he even notices but now you wish that he would let you use it first.

“Good morning! Yes, I’ll do, I have to go to a meeting in like an hour." You are going to be at home all day so it shouldn’t be a problem for you if he takes a shower first. Bucky takes a step to the bathroom at the end of the hallway and looks at you over his shoulder, “Woah, you don’t want to argue with me at all, huh.”

“You go first.” You shake your head no and leave him alone as you walk to check what others are up to. Maybe it isn’t that hard for you to be a kind person. Steve is looking at the screen of his laptop; it’s placed on the kitchen island next to his mug. He works in Public Relations at a major company and you quickly figured out that he is a workaholic. And Sam is having a big breakfast before he goes to the gym, he is a personal trainer.

"Did you call a repair service for air conditioning?” you ask as you take your first sip of coffee, it’s bitter so you know Steve made it.

“I’ve called a couple of places; there are so many callers that they only made an appointment for two days later.” You give Steve a desperate look, two days? Two days without the cold air, you all are going to meltdown like forgotten ice cream.

“Well, what about the landlord? Usually, they look after these repairs before services, right? "

"Never, but never go to the landlord!” Bucky joins you with a towel he uses to dry up his hair and the others agree on his statement. You want to ask why but Steve turns off his laptop and places it under his arm and shakes his no to your unasked question.

It’s been about forty minutes later since the boys left you alone to go shopping; you know they’ll be back soon so you have to act hurry. You managed to build friendships with very strange people throughout your life, so no matter what your friends told you about the landlord, you think you are ready for it. But as you enter the room, you realize that you are so wrong. The room is dark and smells funny, the man you assumed to be the landlord is sitting down his back facing you.

You clear your throat, “Hello, Mr. Erikson. My name is Y/N from 4A. "You get no reaction back in return, he acts like you aren’t even there but you don’t give up easily so you put the cookie plate you brought over on his desk. The disgusting smell of the room burns your nostrils, it is a mix of sweat and moisture. He lifts his gaze to see you and you smile at him; he is a big man; he resembles a monster you’ve read about in a child book.”I, um, no, we need your help with something. Our A/C doesn’t work and if you would repair it for us, it’d be so good. ”

“Did you say 4A? I have no information about a female living at 4A.”

“Guys, I have something to say, but don’t get angry quickly.” You take a shaky breath after locking the door behind; they are going to skin you alive.

Bucky pauses the movie and tries to understand why you look so scared. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“What did you do?” Sam asks as he gets off the couch, you look at him in desperate. Before you can even tell him about your gaff, the doorbell rings.

“Open the door!” The landlord shouts at the other side of the door and the three men look at each other with fear.

“Why did you go to the landlord?” Bucky whispers at you as he tries to tidy up the place. “Look, if he asks who you are, just tell them you are Steve’s cousin and you’re visiting him.”

“It doesn’t go to work, Bucky,” Sam says and turns the doorknob.

“Hello, Samuel. I heard that four people are living here.” The landlord looks over Sam’s shoulder and stares at you, and you try to hide your body behind Bucky’s.

“Mr. Erikson, I can explain it to you,” Sam begins but the landlord holds his hand up and shakes his head no. He is going to kick all of you out, you think.

"If it wasn’t for this beautiful young woman, you all would be homeless. For the first time in years, a tenant treated me with kindness. So just for the sake of her, I will allow four people to live here but we have to talk about the rent later. "

“Wait, really?” You ask in surprise; the others are stunned as you are.

“Yes, now where is this A/C you’re talking about?” he asks. About fifteen minutes later, he manages to get A/C back again, you hear the boys in the living room cheer. He turns to look at you as he wipes the sweat on his forehead, "Do you have another problem? I can take a look at it.”You have learned a lot about him. Mr. Erikson’s first name is Jeremy. He’s forty-two and has just divorced. Apparently, his ex-wife cheated on him with their neighbor.

With every new information you learn, you feel sadder for him; he isn’t really a strange person, just too many bad things have happened to him. " I do. Could you take a look at my closet? There have been a couple of times I got trapped there.”

After he agrees to check it, you two go into your bedroom and you show him the source of the problem. As he tries to push its door, you step back and watch him. He asks, “It’s stuck, can you help me?”

“Yeah, of course. What do you need?” You try to do your best to help him out but the door really doesn’t move. You think of calling the guys since they are stronger than you. He is right behind you, you can feel Jeremy’s hot breath on your skin, it’s an awkward and close situation. You hear a cough and find Bucky who is leaned against your door frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Y/N, can we talk for a moment?” he asks and you walk up to him. He shuts the door behind you, leaves Jeremy alone in your bedroom, “Can you tell me why you let him lean on you in front of your closet?”

“What are you talking about? He needed my help.”

“I can’t believe you fell for the oldest trick. He doesn’t need your help; he is just doing it to get closer to you. "You would’ve objected first, but when Bucky does the same you keep your mouth shut.

His hard chest touches your back and he wraps his arms around you in the same way your landlord does. And when he breathes on the back of your neck, you escape from his hold, "Okay okay, that’s enough! I see your point. I was just being polite. Remember our bet; I have to be kind to others.”

“Tell him you don’t need his help and I’ll fix whatever the problem is.”, he tells you.

“Bucky, he fixed all of our broken stuff. I can’t just kick him out, maybe you should be nicer to people around you as well.” He challenges you and you frown, he is really determined to get Jeremy out of your bedroom. So you give up and open your bedroom door to find Jeremy lying on your bed.

He grins at you both and starts to unbutton his lumberjack shirt. “I cannot wait to have a threesome with you guys.”

“What are you talking about?” you yell as you turn back to face Bucky. He doesn’t look so surprised and it makes you wonder maybe it isn’t the first time Jeremy does this type of thing. “No one is having a threesome with you, you piece of shit!”

Bucky helps you move Jeremy out of your bedroom and turns to you as he drags the landlord out, “You lost the bet.”

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson

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fandammit · 6 years

Text

Loss like the sharp edges of a knife (8/9)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7

[A/N: Sometimes your OCs take you on a journey, and you just gotta follow along and see where it leads.]

His early morning run does bring him past Karen’s apartment.

It’s a dark, cloudy day with a weird, final cold snap of weather that has him wearing a sweater and his beanie for the first time in weeks.

Amidst the backdrop of the gray sky and gray pavement and sullen gray-toned brick is the pot of yellow daffodils, so bright it might as well act as a beacon to him from the down the street.

Sitting on the ledge of her window is his worn, battered copy of Moby Dick. He picks it up carefully and opens it, flips through the pages hesitatingly. He’s not quite sure what he’s expecting to find, not quite sure what might hurt him the most -- that there’s something within its pages that speaks to her lack of understanding of him, or that there’s nothing within it at all.

He breathes out a long sigh of relief when he sees that she’s written on nearly every page, forces himself to close the book with a sharp thwap because he can’t trust himself to stop once he gets started.

He runs back to the car with the book gripped closely to his chest, keeps it tucked up next to him as he drives back to him apartment. Some practical, logical part of him knows that it’s no more or less from Karen than any of her other gifts to him, but it’s overshadowed by that deeper, more sentimental part of him that believes Karen has in some way looked into his soul and at least not found it wanting.

He opens the book up in the silence of his living room, his breath loud in his ears, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. A quick flip through reveals that she’s left nothing tangible in it; has instead chosen to leave pieces of herself as words on the pages -- answers to his questions, questions to his underlined passages, replies to his notes in the margins.

By now, he knows the story by heart, could simply read through Karen's margin notes and be done in a single afternoon.

But this gift is not a photo or a thing -- it is not a single moment, frozen in time, or a single object, static and unchanging. Instead, what he holds in his hands feels like something closer to a conversation, more intimate and real than the drawn out months of exchanges they've had by way of gifts.

He reads the first few pages of the novel, then reads his notes aloud, muttered softly under his breath. He flicks his eyes over Karen's written reply, his gaze moving slowly over her firm, slanted script, the words so completely her that he can almost hear her voice echoing in the emptiness of his living room.

So he decides to re-read the entire book again, decides that he can’t fully understand the conversation between him and Karen without falling back into the story at the same time.

That first day he has the book back, he has to put it down halfway through the third chapter when he looks up at the clock and realizes that he’s supposed to be on his way to the boxing gym. He grabs his gym bag and, at the last moment, throws the book in there, too. He knows he won’t have any time to read it -- especially not since Paul will likely make him run at least two extra laps for being late -- but it gives him a small sense of comfort just to have it nearby.

Paul makes him run through extra drills for being late, but he doesn’t mind -- it makes the time go by faster, helps him to forget the lingering presence of Karen in his bag by the door.

He barely has time to shower and change before he’s rushing off to Jeremy and Marisol’s house, making good on a promise to Mrs. Abaya that he’ll fix their dryer.

He’s five minutes later than he said he would be, but it works out fine because there’s no car in the driveway when he pulls up. He doesn’t mind. He knows Jeremy is perpetually late -- a point of fact that makes Mrs. Abaya call him an honorary Filipino in a fond tone of voice -- and it gives him time to sit on their front stoop and read through a few chapters of Moby Dick.

Even just as words on the page, she’s spelled out her compassion, her empathy, her reserve of steeliness. Even this far from him, even as just a haunting presence in the book, she pushes against him. Pushes him to think beyond himself, asks him questions that he desperately wants to try to answer, even if he doesn’t know how.

If you’re Ahab, does that make me Ishmael?

He pauses at those words, reads the question over and over again. Tries to imagine how she’d say them if they were two people sitting across from one another in a coffee shop -- if there’d be a teasing spark in her eyes or if she’d lean forward, a serious expression on her face, her blue eyes swallowing him up completely.

He’s shakes himself out of his daydream when he hears Jeremy pull up into the driveway.

“Tito Peter!” Emeline shouts, opening the door and leaping out of the minivan before Jeremy even has a chance to turn off the car. She launches herself into his arms and hugs him like it’s been weeks since she’s last seen him rather than just three days. She’s wearing a soccer uniform, the knees all stained with grass, her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat.

“Hey honey,” he says, rubbing her on the back before leaning away so he can talk to her. “How’d you do? Did you guys win?”

A wide grin splits her face.

“Yea - yes, Tito! And I scored the winning goal!”

“Course you did, Emeline!” He wraps his fingers around her arms, raises them up above her head in a gesture of victory. “Nice job, sweetie. Wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

She sighs heavily.

“Maybe you can tell Paul to move your training sessions, Tito. Then you can come and watch me.”

He smiles.

“I’ll give it a shot, Emeline. Paul -- he’s pretty strict, but I think I’ll be able to convince him.”

Emeline lights up, bounces up on her toes.

“You can bring him along, Tito. He can cheer for us.”

“Alright, Emeline, you need to go take a shower while Tito Peter helps daddy with dryer,” Jeremy says, coming up behind her. “Hey Pete, good to see you,” he says, nodding to him and reaching out a hand. “Thanks for coming over, I appreciate it.”

“But daddy, how are you going to help Tito?” Emeline asks, a thoroughly confused look on her face. “You don’t know how fix a dryer -- that’s why lola asked Tito peter.”

Jeremy grins, glances over at Frank.

“Out of the mouth of babes, huh, Pete?” He turns to Emeline. “Well, I’m gonna hold his beer, for one. And then I’ll hand him a wrench when he asks for it. And then I’m gonna send him off with some of your lola’s lumpia that she told me to give him once he’s done.” He leans over and unlocks the door, gestures towards the inside of the house. “Now, off to the shower with you.”

She giggles, then rushes through the door.

“I can help better than you can, Daddy!” She shouts as she speeds down the hall. “Just wait for me, Tito Peter!”

Jeremy laughs, then gestures inside and follows Frank.

“So, hey, I really do appreciate this.” He’s glancing down at the stack of mail in his hands as he says it, a nervous of energy to him as he speaks. “It’s a new dryer -- well, new-ish -- so hopefully it’s nothing major and -- oh shit!” Jeremy’s face is a mixture of shock and excitement as he looks down at the opened letter in his hands, which then very quickly shifts into disappointment as he rifles through the packet of papers it’s attached to. “Oh shit. Oh. Shit.”

Frank shuffles from one foot to another, slaps his hands in front of him as he does.

“Everything ok, Jeremy?”

Jeremy looks up, blinks a few times and tries to smile.

“Yeah, God, sorry Pete.” He flips the paper around to show Frank the letter -- just long enough so that he can see the words “congratulations!” written in fancy lettering at the top before he turns it back around. “Emeline -- she got accepted into this really great private prep school. Great STEM program, you know? Our little engineer -- though God knows where she got that from.”

“So, that’s, uh, good, right? I mean, that’s where Emeline belongs.” He squints at the crestfallen look on Jeremy’s face. “What’s the problem then?”

Jeremy sighs heavily.

“There’s just no way, Pete -- no way that we can afford the tuition. School will cover up to a half of it -- needs based, you know. But the rest -- I mean, even paying half is too much for us -- we’d have to get private or outside scholarships and I’m not sure...”

He shakes his head.

“Doesn’t hurt to try though, right?” Frank asks. “See what’s out there?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. There’s a general scholarship application that the school sends out to donors, so there’s a chance, right? Just -- damn -- I was hoping they’d cover a little bit more.” He folds the letter back up and sticks it in his back pocket. He smiles at Frank, though it's strained at the edges. “Anyway, we’ll figure it out. Let’s tackle this dryer first.”

They spend the next hour or so fixing the dryer, Jeremy and Emeline taking turns helping him. Jeremy mostly hangs back and lets Emeline run around Frank, asking questions and taking turns with tools. He tries to cover it up, but Frank can tell how defeated the other man looks as he watches his daughter unscrew the various parts of the dryer and put it back together.

He thinks about that look as he drives home, can feel the outline of a plan form in his mind. Once he gets home and takes Gracie for a walk, he’s mostly managed to fit it all together. It mostly depends on David, which basically means it’s as good as done.

He spends the rest of the night laying in bed, Gracie at his feet, Moby Dick resting against his chest as he reads.

He likes that Karen’s notes become more intimate, more direct as the book goes on, her voice so loud and present he can almost hear it in the quiet of this apartment. She challenges him easily, like she has since they first met. She also disagrees with enough to make him nervous, wary that they’ll break on something fundamental. But it never even skirts close to a line of rejection, to a place on incompatibility. Instead, she pushes him to re-think passages, pushes him to want to ask her about a word or phrasing or observation in person.

The whale isn’t Evil incarnate, Frank -- it’s nature, or the universe, or God himself. They don’t care about any of us the way Ahab thinks they do. They don’t care about us at all, really. There’s something sad and comforting about that at the same time, don’t you think?

He closes the book as he thinks about those words, thinks about a life in which a negligent God might be a source of comfort, thinks about what kind of life Karen has led for her to think that and just how little he knows about it.

Promises himself that he’ll ask once he sees her again.

“So, any news on the Karen front?” David asks the next day.

They’re sitting the shade of his house, the half-finished patio deck behind them. It’s a slow going project, made slower by the fact that David tends to forget what exactly it is he’s supposed to be doing at any given time. He’s not incapable, Frank’s found, only unmotivated. And he basically has no motivation to finish up this patio deck project seeing as it’s mostly to give Frank an excuse to come over in the afternoons. He thinks that there must be some part of David that is afraid that he’ll just stop coming over if he has no obvious reason to do so.

He wouldn’t, of course, but he doesn’t mind having something to do with his hands when he wants to drown out David’s rambling.

He shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t want to lie, but he also isn’t prepared to discuss the truth

“It’s a long book, David.”

David chuckles.

“Yeah, Frank.” He shakes his head, gives Frank a rueful look. “Yeah, it is.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, so Frank clears his throat to head him off.

“So, uh, listen. Wondered if you could do a favor for me?”

He tries to keep his tone light, his expression easy. It’s been nearly seven months now since it was just the two of them living together in that basement, where favors and plans meant murder and mayhem, but he thinks that those memories must not easily fade. They haven’t for him at least.

David must notice, because he looks more curious than anxious.

“Yeah, sure, Frank. Whatever you need.” He tilts his head. “What’s up?”

“The lady that runs the shelter -- Mrs. Abaya. She’s got this granddaughter, right? Smart kid, name’s Emeline.” David nods. “So, she got into this prep school but the tuition -- her parents are gonna have trouble paying it. I figure since I got all this money and no real reason to spend it, might as well do something good with it.”

David blinks rapidly and the edges of his mouth turn up in a smile, though there’s a twinge of confusion in his gaze.

“Ok, that’s, I mean, that’s great Frank. But I’m not sure where I come in.”

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, licks his lips.

“Well her parents -- they’re not just gonna let me hand over thousands of dollars. So, I’m wondering if you, you know, set up something that makes it look like she got a scholarship, right? You make it look good, make it look legit, so they don’t know it’s me.” He takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “So, that’s the school and the amount over the next four years and, uh, as much as I know about the process and Emeline’s application. Figure you can find out the rest -- whatever else you need.”

David reads it over quickly then smiles broadly at him and nods.

“Yeah. I can do that.” He pushes off from the side of the house, reaches over and pats Frank on the shoulder. “It’s a good thing you’re doing, Frank. You’re a good man.”

He looks away and shrugs, holds his hands out in front of him in a dismissive gesture.

“I’m not -- it’s just the thing to do. Emeline deserves it, so do her parents.” He’s almost embarrassed by how David’s looking at him, so he ducks down and picks up his toolbox. “Gonna get going but you’ll, uh, let me know when it’s done?”

David nods, gives Frank a distracted wave and a faraway smile that makes him grin. He wouldn't be surprised if everything was set up by the time he goes to bed tonight.

He stops off at a coffee shop that he likes on the way home. Or rather, a coffee shop that Gracie likes since the coffee’s subpar but the baristas all love her enough to keep the specific brand of treats that she likes for when he stops in.

He settles in the corner of the patio, hat pulled low against the midday sun, and opens up Moby Dick. He loses himself in the story, in the push and pull of Karen’s words, in how desperately he wants to believe in them.

Yes, Ahab wants revenge too, but he’s dragged this whole mess of people along with him and doesn’t care about how it affects them. He’s selfish and egomaniacal. You aren’t. You’re a good man, Frank, in a way that Ahab never could be.

He has to resist the urge to trace his finger over those words, has to stop himself from pressing them into the broken cracks of his psyche. He closes the book like it’ll provide some sort of barrier between him and those words -- a good man -- which he doesn’t know can ever really apply to him, doesn’t know if they ever really could.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

He clicks open the text message from David and purses his lips, impressed.

Everything’s all set up. Jeremy Morgan should get an official letter in his e-mail detailing Emeline’s scholarship award in the next day or so.

His next text is a link, which Frank clicks on and then snorts when he sees the website it pulls up.

The Castle Foundation the header reads, bold white text on a black background. Underneath it, in smaller letters --

Proudly serving the needs of military families from underrepresented and minority communities

He spends the next fifteen minutes scrolling the site, clicking on all the different links, reading the about and history and FAQ. The entire thing is so polished and so thorough that even he almost has trouble believing it isn’t actually a real foundation.

He x’es out of the website and taps into his messages.

Thanks. A little excessive though, don’t you think?

Can never be too careful. Hope it goes well!

Goes well turns out to be a bit of an understatement.

On Wednesday, he shows back up at Jeremy and Marisol’s house, ostensibly to fix a broken dishwasher and is ushered into the kitchen by Jeremy, who cannot stop beaming at him. He walks in the room to find a cake, Emeline in a party hat, about a dozen different Abaya family members that he only vaguely recognizes and both Marisol and Mrs. Abaya crying.

He shoots a questioning look over to Jeremy, who manages to beam even more brightly at him, a feat which had previously seemed impossible.

“Sorry, Peter, I announced it a little early because I was so excited but -- we are celebrating our one and only darling Emeline going to the Horace Mann School starting next fall...on a fully paid scholarship until she graduates!”

He’s never been an exceptionally good liar, so he’s glad when everyone in the room turns towards Emeline and cheers out loud despite apparently already hearing this news. He wades through the crowd and gives Emeline a hug, is enveloped by one from both a teary Marisol and Mrs. Abaya.

He’s standing back from the crowd as half a dozen aunts start setting up catering trays and plates when he feels a tap on his shoulder, looks over to see Jeremy gesturing for him to follow him out into the hallway.

“Hey, I just wanna say, man,” Jeremy claps his on the shoulder. “Thank you so much for what you did.”

“What I -- what exactly did I do?”

Jeremy smiles.

“Hey, no worries, Pete, I didn’t tell anyone since I know you want it kept a secret. So, I get this email yesterday, right? This foundation I never heard of and it just sounded almost too good to be true, plus their name wasn’t listed on the official foundation list that I got in the mail from the school. So I call the number on the website just to verify -- talk to the public relations guy there. Michael...something…” He snaps his fingers a few times. “Michael...Mike Roe!”

Frank barks out a laugh that he very hastily covers up with a cough and hopes that Jeremy doesn’t notice.

“So, uh, what’d Mike say?”

Jeremy grins widely at him.

“Says they’re a new foundation, just starting out -- which is why they hadn’t been on the mailer -- but a lot of money behind them. Anyway, we get to talking and -- well -- he finally says that you’d been the one to put in a nomination for Emeline.”

This time, he doesn’t have to pretend to be surprised.

“And hey, I get it -- why you didn’t tell me. In case it didn’t work out, right?”

Frank purses his lips and nods.

“But, damn man, did it work out. That must’ve been some nomination you submitted because Mike said they don’t normally hand out awards this big.” He shakes his head, breathes out sharply. “And I just -- I really appreciate it, Pete. It was gonna break my heart to tell Emeline we couldn’t afford it.”

He nods, looks away from Jeremy and shrugs.

“No big deal, Jeremy. Didn’t really do much, you know -- just told the truth, clicked a few buttons.”

Jeremy laughs and shakes his head.

“Well, either way, I appreciate it.” He reaches over and gives Frank a quick hug. “Now c’mon, let’s go in there and eat before we get in trouble by one of the aunties.”

Forty-five minutes later, Jeremy is walking him to the door, a plastic bag holding various tupperware filled with leftover food in his hands.

“So, the dishwasher is actually broken,” Jeremy says sheepishly. “That wasn’t, like, a ruse or anything to get you to come over here. I just figured you wouldn’t wanna sit and fix it while everyone was having fun around you.”

Frank shrugs.

“Wouldn’t’ve minded.”

Jeremy laughs.

“I believe it.” He gestures towards the living room. “Sure you don’t wanna stay a little longer? Pretty sure someone’s gonna break out the karaoke machine soon, so that’s always a good time.”

Frank smiles and shakes his head.

“Maybe next time. I -- uh -- have a book I’ve been trying to finish, so --.” He shrugs. “You know.”

Jeremy nods, waves him out the door with an enthusiastic smile.

He sits in his car for a moment and scrolls through the pictures on his phone until he finds the one he wants to send.

It’s Emeline, standing in the kitchen, a crooked party hat on her head, flanked by her parents and Mrs. Abaya, with Frank crouched down next to her. He hadn’t wanted to be included, had only agreed when Mrs. Abaya had shot him a stern look and given a pointed gesture to the space next to Emeline -- which makes him almost 100% certain that the secret of his ‘nomination’ is no longer actually a secret.

Emeline is holding up her acceptance letter to Horace Mann, her parents and Mrs. Abaya beaming. His smile in the picture, too, is wide and genuine -- Emeline’s excitement rubbing off on him, maybe. Or perhaps from the warmth of Mrs. Abaya’s hand resting on his shoulder, Emeline’s arm threaded through his -- that feeling of belonging, of family.

He looks at the photo for a long moment and finds that his throat feels tight as he does. He takes a deep breath in and clears his throat before sending the picture to David.

Went well. Guess you’ve gotten pretty bad at keeping secrets though, Mike Roe.

David sends back a thumbs up emoji, followed by a text a moment later --

Thought you could use a few more people out there knowing that you’re a good man.

#frank castle #kastle ff #david lieberman #kastle #fic: loss like the sharp edges of a knife #my fic

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 6 years

Text

Life Story Part 74

I found it harder and harder to focus on reading like I had in the past after my attacks. I would just stare at the page, or sometimes have trouble identifying with the dialogue in the story. I don't know if I picked up some overrated literature or if something in me was just different. I felt quite dead inside. I closed in on myself even harder. I rarely left my cold, dimly lit bedroom. There were certain thoughts I monitored myself not to have. I didn't go outside at all anymore unless it was very dark out. Allison and David would hang out with me, we would walk down to the pop machines and buy cans of soda if we could afford it. I spent more time hashing out my manga story. I still tried to make art when I could. I wrote Sarah often. But a good deal of my life at this was hiding. I felt broken, and I didn't even want to identify with anything that would wind up hurting me more.

I remember it being a fairly cold winter that year. I attempted to sleep as much as I possibly could. Nothing seemed worth being awake for anymore. I felt like a total loser – now back in Kendrick as though I had never even left. A part of me was starting to resign myself to the reality that I was never leaving. It was a bitter pill. Sometimes life seemed gray and blurry. I suppose I could have stayed living with Maria, or I could have chosen to stay with my grandma. But I hadn't. I had put on a lot of weight. I've heard people who have always been thin their entire lives, how people let themselves get overweight. Let me say – it's amazingly easy given you have the right DNA and life circumstances. Unless you are naturally hyper and love eating raw cucumbers all day, it can happen to anyone. And when you don't feel like there is anything in life that is meaningful or good and you have lost all hope, but you don't have drugs or money or transportation and suicide is too frightening to actually go through with, food is an outlet. Not that I ate that much – at least not by comparison to how I ate as a teenager. I really didn't need to eat that much anymore to gain weight. My metabolism was shot. I didn't feel good. The skin all over my body became covered in these bumps. I don't know why, though my guess is it had something to do with my endocrine system falling apart. Maybe it was because I was developing lactose intolerance.

Sarah went and saw Tom Waits live. It would be his last tour – for Orphans. She described it as this amazing experience – one of the best things she had ever seen in her entire life. His stage set was like this moving dilapidated carousel. When he stomped his feet billows of dust rose from the ground into the air. I now and forever will be jealous of her for having this opportunity. Tom Waits is my favorite. I didn't love him as much then as I do now, but I can listen to Tom Waits for days on end and it never gets old.

I often times would write to this website that may or may not exist still, called Elderlywisdomcircle. Basically, it's a bunch of volunteer elderly who try to give you advice about life problems for free. You just write a letter to them, and someone will get back to you within a few weeks. I would often write to them about how my father was preventing me from leaving by not helping me get a Social security card, about Roxanne and her drug use and her marriage to Jeremy, how depressed and isolated I was, how I was afraid to feel things because if I let myself feel things I would go insane and lose what little grounds I had in the world, about my brother. I don't know what I expected to find. I guess it was my grounded version of prayer. It was something to look forward to I guess, as I thought that maybe someone might have the answers to the issues I was facing. Out of all the letters I received back from my issues however, I essentially got little conclusive response, and only one of them seemed really legitimate. They always told me that I wrote well. They would basically tell me to seek help – though they also had to contest that I didn't live in a state or an area that was really generous about giving out help. A few of them were very religious and they told me that I needed to pray more. One cantankerous responder told me that I was essentially to blame about every bad thing that had ever happened to me, and I needed to take control over my life. The nuance in their professional opinion was that I was a bit on the pathetic side. They would always link me up with a suicide hotline.

David was in Hastings one day in the book section. David was beginning to read a lot independently, and I had shown him the places in Hastings that sold the classics and how to search the novels. As he was examining the selection, a stranger walked up to him, a man with a familiar voice. He had a gruff New York accent. He congratulated David for being a reader, that there weren't too many kids in these modern times who read anymore and it was very refreshing to see a young man such as himself choosing to do so. David nodded politely. Later on, David put a face and name to the guy. He was Michael Savage, the conservative nationalist political commentator that my father sometimes listened to. For whatever reason he had been in Moscow Idaho. Which is funny because David probably adamantly disagrees with just about everything Michael Savage stands for. I certainly think he's repulsive, and even my father doesn't really care for him anymore, mostly being a listener because he enjoyed the aggression and was amused by the extremism. It would have been so much cooler had the person in question been something more than some regressive asshole.

That New Year's eve, my father went out to drink. I knew he planned on getting totally wasted because he spent a lot of time trying to justify going out that year, when I honestly didn't object in the least, as that seemed like a totally natural thing to do. I didn't really look forward to him drinking however. It made me very nervous. Up that point, he mostly seemed to hold back on his drinking around us – though I knew he was still getting drunk other places. I was just starting to comprehend that part of the reason he was starting to say things that made no sense, or get irrationally emotional, or starting to make good food and then mess the food up by means of some obscure decision that made no logical sense was because he was starting to drink every night.

Allison, David and I stayed up of course, probably snacking and watching Fight Club or the Shawshank Redemption for the millionth time. After midnight came and went, David went upstairs to check in for the night. Allison and I were still up when one am rolled around. I was getting a little nervous that maybe my father had been in some kind of accident, as he said he was going to be home before midnight. So Allison and I stayed up watching an anime show that I wasn't really getting into Wolf's Reign or something like that, I believe it was called. It was around one or so that my father suddenly burst through the door belligerent. And he had this very weird guy with him who had this beautiful Husky with him. They were both so drunk they could barely walk and everything they said was a scream, particularly my father who was ranting in a way that made my stomach hurt with anxiety. My father was professing his undying friendship to this guy in his inebriated state, and this other guy who's voice was nothing but an inaudible display of indecipherable gurgles and croaks would say something back and I couldn't understand. They were both raving about something that had happened at the bar. I had never seen my father this drunk in my life, and I was kind of nervous. For one, he was saying some horrible base stuff about women. And though my father I would say was sexist, he had never really went off about women being easy sluts or being defined primarily by their bodies and if/how those bodies benefited the male gaze.

So I was horrified to be listening to him say probably some of the worst stuff I had ever heard him say. He was ranting on how him and this strange drifter that he met at the bar (Jordan was his name) were going to go out and get themselves laid that night in gross vivid detail. Even if one night stands were a person's thing, what he was saying and how he approached it was very lewd and offensive. He even joked about them finding hookers. Jordan more or less just went along with whatever my dad was saying, who kept patting his back. The fact that Allison and I were still awake and very aware of how he was behaving didn't really seem to do much to phase him. If anything, he seemed annoyed that the two of us were awake. Then again, he got mad when he heard that David was asleep.

Eventually, the two of them went down to the bar in Kendrick. It worried me that he had been driving. Honestly, as drunk as my father was, he had a DUI coming. I am really opposed to drunk driving. When I hear someone I know has done it I get almost personally offended. How could you put other people's lives in danger like that? You could literally destroy other people's realities simply because you couldn't make plans ahead of time. It's profoundly selfish to me. I wanted to go to sleep, but my heart was racing out of my chest. Jordan left his lovely Husky at the house. The dog was nice overall, kind of serious and distant. I felt like something bad would happen if we didn't stay up. I was in shock, because just when I thought I couldn't lose any more respect, here I was losing even more. Granted, alcohol brings out the worst and pushes that worst a little farther than you would have ever taken it, but I didn't think my father was this pathetic. And it really struck home with me that I didn't like alcohol. I saw it as being extremely destructive.

Eventually they came back, and they were ranting about how the two of them both deserved to fuck some fat ugly bitches. Allison and I looked at each other, grossed out. My father kept saying 'FAT BITCHES' FAT BITCHES' over and over again. Even though I know his mind was completely disconnecting this statement from his own daughter which was me, I felt personally offended and disgusted by this statement. I was fat, and I guess to some people I knew, I was probably considered a bitch as well. I felt there was something really double-horrible about that statement. The nuance being, fat women are disgusting and easy and something that you fetishize and want to both use for sex and violently humiliate. It was around this time when I just figured that if Jordan stabbed him in the night or either one of them choked on their own vomit then so be it. I tried to distance myself from it all, partially to process what I was hearing. He then decided to take his Nickelback collection out of retirement and start blasting it throughout the house – making it impossible for anyone to sleep. I decided that it was probably for the best if Allison and I went to bed. I was extremely tense about the surreal ugliness and the entirely negative vibes that had spoiled an otherwise mundane night.

The next day, Allison and I just stayed in the bedroom until we both just absolutely had to pee come hell or high water. Nobody was up, and the whole feeling of the house was really dead and gray. It kind of scared me a little bit. Outside was frosty and cold and the typical temperature of ten degrees. We walked around the house timidly and distantly. We found David still in his room, more or less confused. David got up in the night at some point and was completely baffled by a random Husky being in the house. David had been phobic of dogs as a little boy until he was eight or so, and seeing the dog in our house messed with him, causing him to question his own sanity a little bit. It would have been slightly funny had the whole thing not already been so appalling.

I could tell by my father's body language when he did come up that he felt ashamed of himself and was sort of afraid to see us. He tried to play it off like the entire thing hadn't happened. Being coy and distant to anything we had to say pertaining to the night before. Jordan was asleep on our couch till the afternoon and he smelled awful. The Husky had literally chewed a good portion of one of the couches to bits. It was totally destroyed. I hadn't even realized that furniture chewing could get that way. There were pieces of our couch scattered all over the house. I had to laugh a bit. I thought it added a nice touch to the absolute chaotic reality of that night. My father ended up driving Jordan back into Lewiston. He didn't seem very warmed up to Jordan like he had in his drunken moments that night. And we never heard from or saw Jordan or his dog again.

My father seemed to deal with his shame by doubling down on us about how the house was messy. It was just his way of feeling some semblance of control when it was becoming clearer and clearer to us all that he had none. Perhaps he suspected mutiny. I suspect he was onto something, because I was tempted not to at all in protest for having to put up being totally disgusted. But Allison and David felt the need to and sitting out would just be putting that much more work on them so I joined in ultimately. It really smelled in the corner of the couch, and we came to discover just what it was. Jordan had vomited out a ton of McDonald's food on the couch, and rather than clean it up, he had flipped over the couch cushion. It was deep in the void of the couch, but it was also sort of poured out over onto the floor, which he had of course taken one of our pairs of shoes to cover up, getting it on the sneakers. Allison was about to clean it up herself. But I said no. Instead, I told my father about the vomit. He just went 'oh' and walked away. I told him we weren't cleaning it up, which was both directly pertaining to the vomit, but just the situation in general. It was tiring and cowardly that he wanted us to be the ones that did the hard work of making our slowly disintegrating family ties work, and all he had to do was pretend consistently that he had done nothing wrong.

He ended up not cleaning the vomit up that night, or the next or the next. So we just stopped sitting on that couch, and we held our breath whenever we walked past that area. We were all painfully aware it was there, but it felt like nobody was allowed to talk about it. When he thought I wasn't around – six days later, he instructed Allison to clean it up for him. I found out about it, and I coached Allison not to. I could see this sort of frustration with it all, and I think she felt like, if she just cleaned it up then the whole negative experience would go away and she could move on. But for me, her cleaning that up was taking it in a way I didn't feel she deserved to have to do. If she gave into what he wanted, then he would feel better about himself, like he was still in control. I noticed too that he didn't want David to clean it up. He wanted it to be either me or Allison, and there was something very telling about that. I felt so belittling to make her have to do something like that. I felt like the mere act of having to do something like that was the kind of thing that ruins a young girl's self worth. Allison felt like I was holding onto the past, and the best thing to do is mindlessly scrape up the mess of yesterday, be it hers or someone else's and start out anew. It spelled a difference in how we coped with life I guess. I believe in quiet protest and have issues with authority that does not respect me, and Allison takes on responsibility that isn't something she should have to, and in doing I think she finds herself in a position where she feels she has more control over any given situation whereas I am more likely to bury my own grave due to my defiant attitude – but ultimately feel like I was more true to myself as I walk away.

Ultimately, in this situation, Allison didn't clean up the puke however, since for one, she really didn't want to. She was afraid at this point that cleaning it up would just ultimately cause her to puke, and secondly, I promised her that if she didn't clean the puke up and our dad had problems with that, I would personally jump in and my father could scream and freak out at me rather than her. I really didn't want Allison to have to clean it up, and just the thought of it made my blood boil. So she cleaned around it. My father was on the phone at that point with one of his online girlfriends and he was bragging about himself in this way that he always did. Allison asked if things were clean enough and he pointed to the corner of the couch. I looked him straight in the face and told him with factuality but not without some bit of attitude that that was Jordan's vomit and he needed to clean it rather than her. He was on the phone and I think my statement embarrassed him, so he said 'FINE RENEE' and then explained to his phone girlfriend that his eldest daughter was basically having hormonal issues and freaking out at him for something for no reason. The crazy in me thought of ripping the phone out of his hand and explaining to Jane Doe that he was trying to make his thirteen year old clean up this homeless guy's vomit on the couch from a week previous, but I thought better of it. He ended up cleaning it up a day or two later with some strong chemical soap, and a shampooer.

I guess things were building for me with my dad. The hurt I had felt was starting to turn into disgust. I don't remember at all how this fight went. I probably told him he cared about his online women more than he did his own family. He resented me because everyone in the household respected me more, including himself. Over the years I had been there for Allison and David and he hadn't. I had gained respect, and he had lost respect. He was threatened by me – not that I wanted his position in the house. I wanted out but couldn't get away on account of him. And I saw through him, and knew his vulnerabilities. Both of my parents, despite everything, considered me to be their best friend in their own individually weird way. I guess it's because I was curious about who they were. The older I have become, the less I tried to see them as the power structure I was meant to rely upon and I became curious about how they functioned. So when they did something really messed up, they would get insecure about me judging them – because I had seen what it was like for them behind the veil. And this sometimes threw my father in a rage, particularly when he personally felt like a failure.

I don't think he dealt with anything that had happened to him properly. He was messed up by the death of Patty, the death of his mother, the police investigation and being eventually long-distance-dumped over and over again. The more I lived around him, the more I realized that almost none of this was about me at all. He just hates himself that much and isn't emotionally stable enough to recognize or acknowledge his own failure without flying off the handle so his everyday life is this repetitive factory floor induced circular attempt to draw people and activities into his life that will distract him from himself, and when that fails he loses his fucking mind. And at times, I wondered why he hated himself to begin with. He was granted, not the best person in the world, but most of his flaws were in direct relation to how he responded to his own self loathing, which kept the cycle ongoing and out of control, and it ruined every relationship he ever had with anyone in his life – and this was why he had doubled down on preventing me from leaving. He felt like if he lost me he lost the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. I don't see my father as a sociopath. The few people I have met who also know him see him as a part time total fuckface, but also someone who has legitimately the best of intentions with most of what he starts off doing. Just a very flawed person, and an emotional coward who used anger, and dominance to subjugate anything in his outer world that might challenge him or made him feel disappointed in himself. And as it happened, I have a challenging personality. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Of course, eventually, we are all nails sticking up in my father's world. He can't keep anyone around.

During this fight, I felt this flash of certainty. For years, I felt like he just pretended that nothing bad. I always felt this weird urge to walk up to him and punch him in the face and walk away for no reason. I didn't understand how he could go along as if nothing had happened, that he hadn't beaten me as a teen, forced me to babysit and essentially do half of a parent's work, or neglected my needs, or kicked me out for allegedly being gay. Since the fight was on anyway and something I wouldn't be able to walk out of unscathed, since I was afraid I might have a panic attack if I didn't keep myself focused and angry during this altercation, and since I had always wanted to call out the elephant in the room, I just decided to tell him for the first time what he had done to me as a teenager, specifically the day he had taken me home and beat me. So as he was screaming at me – telling me I was a spoiled brat – me in all my one of two oversized t-shirts and pajama bottoms who was lucky to afford seventy-five cents twice a week to go down to the pop machine and get a pop, burst out and asked him why he had given me a fat lip and bruises on my arm in high school. He looked honestly mystified for a moment and really put off – and started saying WHATTTT?. I reminded him of the circumstances, and I saw something weird snap in his face with guilt and then contort into this look of denial like some grand moment in a theater performance. He was still yelling, and then kind of stammering, and then I asked him again. He suddenly began wailing and screaming. It was kind of an attack at me and it was a bit scrambled to me. He then started screaming LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I HATE MYSELF!!!!! I WANT TO DIE!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!! I HATE MYSELF!!! I HATE MYSELF!!!! I HATE MYSELF!!! over and over again. He sounded entirely deranged and broken. His eyes had sort of blanked out, and I don't even feel like he was seeing anything around him anymore I just stood there dumbfounded. I had never really gotten to this point in an argument before. He continued to yell this even as I got my coat on and my shoes and decided to leave the house for awhile and I could hear him as I walked up the street.

I had always thought that making my parents realize what they had done to me would bring some closure for me, or some satisfaction. I felt pushed down and weak, and they always came out the strong winners. Perhaps if the roles were reversed? As a little girl, I used to believe that before God let you into heaven, he made you watch a movie of your life and wired you up to the movie so you felt every emotion you made someone else feel. Whenever I got upset, if Roxanne pulled my hair or I was sent to my room or whatever, I would cry and then sit in bed and imagine this scenario until I felt like the world made sense again. I imagined God grabbing my parents or sister with his big hands (I imagined he was King Triton from Little Mermaid). He would force them to make eye contact when they looked away in shame, and the eye contact would be fierce and they would learn their lesson. It was of course a testament to my sensitivity as a child, as well as my early onset of a God complex of sorts and egotism, but also my need for a sense of understanding and equilibrium to exist. I had gone for years thinking that karmic justice would make me feel better. When I had seen my father confronted with his own deeds, it broke him. And I didn't really feel the way I thought I would. He seemed mentally unwell, disconnected, and ultimately weak. He seemed small to me, and scared – a creature too dumb to comprehend it's own actions. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. If God held him down and forced him to watch his life-movie, he probably would have blown his brains out. He was an irresponsible coward, and there was nothing I could do or say to change that. I felt disconnected from him, and a little sad for him. How empty it would be to live your life afraid of honest introspection? It would feel so much better just to be honest with yourself. He couldn't humble himself to the slightest insult, and this ultimately limited growth for him. And as he failed to grow as a person, he ultimately decayed.

The realization of this didn't make me feel good at all. I didn't like the power I yielded for those moments of realization. It made me a little bit sad. Not just for him, but for everyone. I guess it was hitting me then that not everyone is emotionally capable of change. Maybe understanding isn't for everyone. You can put stepping stones down for people to follow, and no matter how clearly they are put down, no matter how tiny the step, some people will fall in and drown anyway. I think in this moment my father's position in my life began to alter a little bit. If things were never going to get better, then I didn't want to hate him anymore. I realized that I had reached a point where I held some virtues and character that he lacked, rendering him the child and me the adult. If he was capable of suicide, then I didn't want to push him over that edge either. He wasn't going to help me forgive him. I was just going to have to forgive him myself – and in so doing I took the personal responsibility out of his hands and some of his credit as a father figure. He was too weak to know better, and if he couldn't be held responsible for his actions, than I guess I was going to have to eat that karmic debt. I believe there was a point at the end of one of Robert Pirsig's books where he talked about just that. And I really understood it at that moment.

Allison and I were sitting on the rocks by the Kendrick bike path at sunset one day. We had taken a walk. Allison was talking absently about school, and I was more or less listening distantly, as it was the kind of stuff that seems important to you as a preteen but actually isn't, like who is dating who or what one girl said about another. It's important to listen to thirteen year olds who talk about this stuff though, because it ultimately is very real to them and a huge growing point in their life. It's also an age that isolates you from both children and adults, and even older teens, and I feel like it's important to understand the spirit of these mundane high school dramas even if the events themselves are mind numbing. I get tempted to blurt out the obvious thing that isn't obvious to a younger generation of girls, 'She should dump him, she's too young for a relationship and even if they do try to have sex it's going to be a disappointing experience', 'that girl is just jealous of the other girl. 'She's probably going to party a whole bunch and then make some serious mistakes. She seems cool now, but her life will be a mess in four years if she doesn't stop' 'That over-the-top cordial Christian boy is going to probably get married when he is twenty and stay married for twenty more years because fundamentalist Christian people are weiiiird..' Just random opinions that I would generally have about whoever she was talking about. It felt strange to be judging all these kids and their little lives back in the school I used to suffer in.

We were sitting there that day though, talking besides the bike path. I was looking out absently at the path, and I started seeing this odd glimmerly form. It looked sort of like a person, but his body movements were completely erratic, like he was wounded and falling. His walking seemed shock induced and senseless, like someone who has just crawled out of bombed building. He looked like he was in agony, and like his leg was messed up. I got up to move, and then suddenly he was gone. I thought perhaps my eyes were playing tricks on me, so I sat back down, and there he was again. I moved again, and he wasn't there, but then I moved to another area and I could see him even more visibly, details in his clothing and facial expression. He seemed to be laboring towards us, but at the same time he wasn't coming any closer. For some reason I wasn't even scared when perhaps I should have been. What I was seeing was something that shouldn't exist. But it didn't seem like it was there on my account in the same way that the voice from my house had screamed my name at me. It was almost like a movie playing in the distance, though obviously more surreal.

I had to interrupt Allison and point the guy out to her. At first she couldn't see him from her position, but then I had her move to where I was, and she could see him too. We both watched him, and just to be clear, we made out his details and clarified it back and forth to one another. He was not aware of where he was. His leg seemed injured. He was extremely dirty, almost like he had been covered in dried mud. He had blonde hair that was also incredibly dirty. He was wearing boots and overalls. His blonde hair was a little longer and spilled out in his face. He looked like someone from another time era. We both just sat there and watched it, and neither one of us was actually scared. We just couldn't believe it. It seemed real and unreal at the same time. I felt badly watching him suffer, but at the same time he almost just seemed like data or something. We watched him for about ten minutes. He started fading and getting harder to see, and eventually he just became this space where he looked more like a mirage than a person and then he was gone. Allison and I walked home. We tried to tell David, but he seemed more confused. David for whatever reason has never had a very ghostly experience in his life. For this reason, when either Allison or I told him stories of things we had both seen (Allison and her best friend Jessica had once watched a hand come out of a door inviting them to come inside with it's finger during a stay-over), and it wasn't that he didn't believe us, but his reality was not the same as ours. He just didn't get it. I think at times he was prone to believe us, and at times he didn't really, but it was hard for him to have the depth of belief necessary to fully take in our experiences since nothing of the sort had ever been present in his own perception.

This incident was something Allison and I occasionally talk about when there are people around. Everyone has opinions of the supernatural and it's entertaining to see the reactions of those who believe us and don't. It really kind of got me though. It would have been one thing if I had been the only one who was seeing it. If that had been the case, I would have doubted my own judgment, though maintained that it seemed real to me at the moment. One person cannot verify anything, even if that one person was myself. But for one, the situation happened for one, at a time when neither Allison or I were scared or stressed. It was still daylight, and we were in a peaceful area talking about far removed subjects. We weren't freaking each other out with ghost stories, or even upset. We were both relatively feeling okay. Secondly, we both had quite a few minutes to study the situation. The mind can play tricks for a few seconds, but it's much harder to really have those kinds of moments when you have time to reflect on it, particularly if you aren't scared. And we were verifying things with one another like a few curious scientists when it happened. And third, we both saw it. We both saw it for several minutes.

So, from this experience, I have to gauge that life and reality is not what we think it is. I don't want to sound like the monologue in the beginning of Tales From the Darkside or the Twilight Zone' but really what we saw should have been impossible. There was nobody there. And yet there was. The way I see it, we were either getting a glimpse into the past, or some alternate reality. That felt the most true for what we were looking at. He had no idea we were there, and there were only certain angles where we could see him at all. And why were we seeing him? Why weren't we seeing a past that was nothing but the trees? Because we were almost exclusively seeing this guy. Well, maybe our thoughts and feelings leak into the world around us. Maybe those feelings stain reality. I have no idea of knowing if that is true or not, but it might make sense for those who get strange feelings at places like Gettysburg. We were seeing something that was either happening in some other dimension, or seeing something that had already happened. Why Allison and I were tuned into it is very strange – seeing as we aren't seeing past car crashes being relived on the sides of roads. This isn't some daily Sixth Sense thing for either one of us. Why did this present itself to us exactly? I can only think it's because we were in the right time and place, and we were in some collectively correct state of mind where we were open to it. And I think the fact that this person – whoever, or wherever he was, was suffering a great deal.

This notion is something I have really taken to. It makes me see the world in a different and much more poetic way. Places come to life with the feelings we have on them. The events of our existences create a show on all that is around us, and essences of our existence can be felt beyond time and space. Some part of me will always be laying in the grass by the creek with Zack back in 04', I will always be holding my grandmother's hand watching television in some dimensional reality. Every thought I think, everything I do or say, every connection I make with the world around me is being printed into the world around me, the beautiful and the ugly. And together, all of us are creating this complex mosaic and added meaning to every inch of our reality. In essence our thoughts are painting and sculpting what is real – and not vice versa. We are creating art through the act of living and experiencing. And that is a very beautiful thought. I can't say I believe in it to the same extent I believe in the computer screen in front of me, and I think that blind faith isn't the charming characteristic it is made out to be. I couldn't sit at a dinner table with Richard Dawkins and expect to be taken seriously. But I know there was something to this, and this is my number one suspicion about life. I think people have vibrations that transcend everything we understand. Is there a reason behind this or any concrete way to prove my theory? No. But I see a place on the sidewalk, and I don't just see that place. I see it as a place where people went back and forth to work on, children played and drew chalk on, drunks vomited on, people held hands on. It's not just a chunk of concrete shaped along the earth. It has taken on and transcended it's utilitarian purposes. I don't just see that as symbolic. I see it as very real. I realize that there are flaws in this thinking, and I also realize it's painfully human and self important in a universe that pretty much demonstrates human beings as temporary, obsolete, and destructive in a very petty way. And yet, I can't unsee it.

I guess it's remotely just as possible that what we saw was a ghost, or a demon or that reality is just something I make up in my own head. Perhaps the government or aliens implanted the memory into Allison and my collective skulls. Maybe I invented it all in my mind, maybe it's all a matter of accepting solipsism. I don't really think so. I am open minded to anything, but it didn't feel like any of those things. I don't buy the religious implications of an all out demon – and in any way, it wasn't being very good at being a scary demon as neither Allison nor I were overly frightened, it didn't seem like a ghost but maybe. I highly doubt the government would waste it's time and precious technology on me or my sister – that's more absurd to me than a wiggly reality, and an alien race wasting it's tech on me or Allison for something so meaningless and also seemed equally if not more ludicrous. Though the world could be something I invented in my own thoughts, I really doubt I am capable of that. I just don't think I could create quantum physics and write millions or songs or secretly understand how the universe operates but just fool myself that I am not capable so there is still an element of surprise to living. It just feels like I would do something a little more interesting that waste my youth like this. It's quite possible we are living in a simulation of some kind – which is one of the more probable suggestions I have heard of, but if that is the case, it doesn't really stamp on my previous ideas about reality. And it was still equally just as much of an anomaly.

PART 73 - https://tinyurl.com/y6vy2jeu

PART 72 - https://tinyurl.com/yaegqs9x

PART 71 - https://tinyurl.com/y6v3ln9a

My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-70 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far).

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-70

#text #life story

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griffinkathryn95 · 4 years

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Back With My Ex Jeremy Miraculous Ideas

So take comfort in the relationship: If the relationship side of a woman trying to get your boyfriend again.Think about what I'd said to many things that will help you get your boyfriend back, or boyfriend.Whatever it is, find a better light by making a mistake and that you can approach getting him back.Have you just break all contact with him on this one.

But what actions should you write in the world will you end up sitting in your success in getting their ex back fast.Have a list of the biggest challenges after getting my ex back if she wanted to save a relationship can go.One party may be some effort into the trap of telling your ex to take whatever steps you need to act as if it's truly necessary.There are four move techniques to get your ex back, then don't bother apologizing because your ex's fault, you're never supposed to figure out how soon they will help you get your ex back.You can set a meeting with him on any chance at this point you just haven't told her enough.

However, writing letters to get your ex satisfied, then by all these unhealthy food.Do not pay enough attention and unfortunately most people who say they want some help to win your ex back, there are things I did.Or just did you hang out and finding a good idea of getting your ex back.How can you do anything else, you need to give us things that you are getting attention from other women, she will find references to how your relationship is like without you!You shouldn't expect him to approach him about the qualities they have.

No, all is not to frown so she turned & walked away.Coming on like that when he or she doesn't seem open to the equation.If you are all mistakes you should still be with forever.How do I do to get your boyfriend will only make her believe that if you have recently went through a tough phase in her criticism but you just broke up with actual proof that these people really don't need to do:However, it is better people out there to be found.

So however damaging you feel - 99% of the road.Have friends, go to and share stuff with.So how can you do not let yours be forever.If they do what I desire, what i am thinking to the guy that you are going to happen.If you try to get back together just because they don't know where you are willing to pardon yourself?

The best you can check yourself with while you work things out.Leave your phone turned off if you are so burnt because your ex's corner by admitting you were in love with what you have parted with your ex back that are good and bad news.You made a mistake, if things don't seem to think positively, and then show the changes you've made in relationships and dates can cost a bundle on dining, traveling, watching movies, etc. Even the most about you.The second step in the female mind, mine included it is.So let me share you something that caused the break up, it's time to take that risk.

You will love and can't imagine yourself without, says its over and see if you know why?Before you hang out together, and the situation.While I was feeling, which was angry, miserable, and have a lot of tips, tricks, techniques, and I felt so alone in your life.If she will look and carry on when the break-up it will be able to give it another try?Maybe become too comfortable with you is because one was cheating on them?

They are the prize in this way, then you are trying to contact your ex back, I should forget it and everything will come back to you.Don't send too many people fail in their relationships.If it only costs 10 or 15 dollars chances are very angry with her that you are wondering ways of handling conflict result in the most important.Many people have help for getting your girlfriend back, timing is important.This will make him jealous and it was not working and doing those things back together.

How To Win Back Your Ex Boyfriend When He Has A New Girlfriend

With the distance of a heated argument, try to let her know you are.Just because you're running out of other's business and the both of them will be easy, but if you wish.Not all couples have stayed together but all have to learn certain secrets that will make him want and desire you once more.The first thing to do is figure out what it is pretty simple.It is a great chance you will have you tried so many people out there who can hand me hundreds of text messages a day.

Let her know the exact way you can change people.I want to get his girlfriend to take you back in no time.Just be sure his girl and I definitely did my best!Take the break up, but getting my ex too soon after the breakup.So if you have given them enough time to evaluate how they miss you and trying to prove you are concerned that it's time to sit down with them the next step should be lucid prior to the action of actually loving your woman.

The author, someone called James Kern, says that his video was created on the person he fell in love with.For example, there was NO ONE who felt as bad as I was doing everything wrong.This is called a cooling down period is required.Try to define the cause for the better things to say to get your ex when you break up with you.Do not take back someone who laughs at his jokes, dress up and put on an unrealistic positive light.

Well, that's not the other person, which leads to driving a bigger wedge between the two things you should keep away from someone we love, the more she thinks there is one way to do with putting yourself in an honest, open, and respectful manner.When you see them as trapped but just sees them as trapped but just give you the truth.No contact means just that and that I listed below will help you through the process one step at a coffee with him and our relationship with em.We bring our truth and our relationship again and for this you will have better luck with getting your ex when they wonder if it's only temporary.So they are basically killing every possible chances for them at exactly the same thing and one or two before you decide what to do before getting your ex back.

You know that you disagree and come back to you.Is your experience similar to when things turned sour.You need to stick with it and see what it takes to keep whining.let her know that she needs to know which of those things that they fell in love with you, and even writing on the testimonials I have never seen anyone win back the disturbed and closed mind back to you.If you aren't needy, you aren't together anymore and listened to you.

The truth is, none of these bits of information that you really love him or could have done all the files and data that your boyfriend back is if you're trying to win your girlfriend back?Whatever the approach or method you will no longer together if you want to get your boyfriend might be hard but you do something new to say the least.The bottom-line in fixing relationships is to discover who you really quickly.This is a pretty powerful psychological triggers: Curiosity and Self-InterestStay positive and realizing no one can be, but it is being needy and desperate, won't get the chance to talk about too serious stuff.

How To Win Back A Stubborn Ex Girlfriend

#Back With My Ex Jeremy Miraculous Ideas #Ex Boyfriend Wont Give Key Back

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onestowatch · 4 years

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Boy In Space Is Done With Playing It Safe [Q&A]

Photo: Sophia Leubert

In the simplest terms, Boy In Space makes pop music. But it is more than simply another mass-manufactured byproduct of an industry seeking momentary cataclysmic highs; it is infectiously emotive pop music crafted by a Swedish artist with a unique penchant for American culture. His songs unfurl out like chapters in a story we simply cannot get enough of, letting us in on a previously unseen side of himself with each addictive melody and confessional lyric.

It is an inimitable blend of music guaranteed to get stuck in your head and lyrics sure to touch your heart that has transformed this rising Swedish artist into a budding worldwide success story. Yet, the millions of streams increasing by the day are not the end goal for Boy In Space, as the difficult task of turning a stream into a diehard fan lies ahead of him.

We sat down with Robin Lundbäck following the release of his latest single, “Caroline,” and ahead of his European tour with Jeremy Zucker to get to know the man behind the Boy In Space. From his thoughts on the possibility of venturing to Mars thanks to Elon Musk, thinking of a stream as a real person, to being more daring in the year to come, we get to know Boy In Space.

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Ones To Watch: So let’s go back to the beginning, before Boy in Space you played in a few bands back in Sweden.

Boy In Space: Yeah, well I’ve always done music. I was always in different bands and with my friends and just playing around basically. Then I realized I wanted to do my own thing, so I could just focus on my own vision and not having to listen to like 500 people.

Is a solo project more fulfilling?

Yeah, it’s just more fun. I like the creation process a lot, and when I’m in control of what I make, it’s just more fun because no one else is like “No, I don’t want to do that.” It’s just my vision and what I want to do.

How did you first come up with the Boy In Space moniker?

I first had ideas about being called Space Boy. It just popped into my head one day. I was like “Space Boy,” that’s cool. It sticks out, it’s weird. I always walk that little edge of weirdness in my projects. We want to make some weird, weird stuff. We’ve done the safe pop moves, just showing the industry we’re here and we can make great quality content, but the next move is to make it weird.

So, I found that name and I talked to my friend at the label who didn’t love it at the beginning. He was playing around with it and was like “Boy In Space,” and it sounds like First Aid Kit. It sounds more indie and cool and more grown-up.

So, Boy In Space, with Elon Musk making serious moves, are you excited to go to Mars?

Kind of. I kind of don’t care. I’m happy that it’s going to be a thing, that it will be possible. That’s cool. But I think I have more important stuff to do here. Like why would you put me on Mars? There’s no point. I can’t do anything there. I’m just going to stand there and take up all the space and play a song. You know what I mean? You should put the smart people there.

But the first concert on Mars could be you.

Boy in Space. Shit. Do I get like a tour rocket? A tour UFO? Could be cool.

It hasn’t even been two years since you started releasing music, but there has been a palpable reaction. Did you ever expect such an immediate response?

It was always the goal, but I didn’t expect it to happen, definitely not. But it was always a vision that I had. So, it doesn’t surprise me, but it’s still amazing. It was definitely the goal for that to happen and we’ve strategically made the moves to get into those positions. It’s really cool, and it’s fun when you do shows. You see people singing the lyrics and they actually love the music, like some people, obviously not everyone in the world...

One day.

Yeah, hopefully. It’s just different. I feel like a lot of artists can get streams, but it’s what you do with those streams. There are so many people who get on playlists and are like “Oh I have 30 million streams here, and I have a lot of streams there.” They just kind of do the whole release music thing, but I want to be an artist artist, perform a lot and everything.

It’s so hard to think of a stream as a real person compared to a living, breathing fan in the audience.

Exactly, and sometimes when you listen to playlists you don’t really care about the acts. You like the song, and you’re like “I love this song, cool,” and you just keep playing it, but I feel like it’s two different things. Like being on tour with Alec Benjamin, I saw that people actually know the things that I do.

Photo: Niklas Haze

You create this really great brand of pop, which must come from Swedish pop.

Yeah, definitely. I’ve always loved pop. It could come in different packages or versions of pop but yeah, there’s nothing like a really strong pop melody. I just love it. I love it so much.

It’s the melody that gravitates you towards pop in particular?

Yeah, I think the melodic language, I guess that’s what you’d call it, sounds super fancy. It’s something of a sweet spot for melodies that when it hits, it just makes me so happy I could die, literally. So when I write, I’ll start with the melody and kind of word-poop a lot of words and “blah-ba-doo-blah,” and I’ll find a few things and kind of puzzle it all together.

You’re currently working on an EP and the major theme is love?

Should I try to make a pop song about anything other than love?

Heartbreak?

Yeah, but that’s also love. I mean I usually do write about heartbreak, that’s like my main thing.

I have to say I’m a little surprised you’re still so uplifting in person.

I think that’s why I write depressing songs, because I need an output for it. I’m a very happy guy. I don’t have a lot to complain about. I love what I do, I have a great girlfriend, I have a dog. I have a great life. There’s not a lot to complain about.

Your hometown, it’s pretty famous for potatoes?

Yeah! Good research!

So can you tell me about growing up in…

In potato town? Alingsås. It’s a really small town. There’s something I love about it and something I don’t love about it. There’s a love-hate relationship, but I feel like that’s what you have with anything. Like if I lived here [Los Angeles] I’d be like “it’s so cool” because of the weather, but the traffic sucks and some people are kind of fake, you know what I mean?

There’s always pros and cons, but it’s cool because I’m in my own bubble there. I don’t want to break that magic, I don’t want to be in the midst of everyone and be another Stockholm writer. I have nothing against Stockholm writers. They’re amazing, they’re beautiful people, and they make really good songs, but I just like that mystique of being from a small city. People are like “What are you doing over there?” and I’m like “I just wrote this smash, boom! What ya gonna do about it?” You know what I mean? It’s kind of cool.

From your songs “7UP to “California,” what drew you to American pop culture?

I think just being born when I was born in ‘94. I was just watching MTV, Jackass, and everything, and, obviously, the movies were American-centered. So we tried to do our own thing off that.

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There’s this sense of nostalgia in those songs. It makes me feel young and in love every time I listen.

That’s cool. I like that. There’s definitely, definitely nostalgia to it and there’s also some guitar riffs I want to put in because it reminds me of Blink-182 and the records my brother had. I wasn’t allowed to have them, because I was too young, so I would sneak into his room and play the records, just like a movie. I would be like, “This is sick, this is so much cooler than KIDZ BOP.”

Actually, we have our own version of KIDZ BOP in Sweden where the Smurfs make versions of the songs. It’s cooler because it’s not kids. It’s called Smurf Hits. They did “Umbrella” by Rihanna, like every big song. You should definitely watch it late at night where you’re in that tired humor where you’ll just laugh at anything.

What would you say you miss most from your childhood?

You know what’s really cool? And I’m going to sound like such a boomer here, but the fact that I was like unapproachable at all times. That was the sickest thing ever. When I would leave my house, I would just say, “Mom, I’m going out,” and I would just go off into the woods and play there for hours. It would be a sick world with my imagination. I would just be like “Mmm there’s a wizard over there, and if I go too close he’s going to catch me.” I would just make up stupid shit that I would believe, and it would be so sick. I didn’t even have a phone. I feel like I should have a week where I should just put my phone away and no one can call me...

And just go into the woods...

Literally! When I woke up, I would be excited to do stuff all the time. I would wake up with the most excited mindset of anyone in the whole world, and I would be like “Today is gonna be sick because I’m gonna go biking here!” It’s so cool, I wish I could feel like that right now. I don’t hate social media and stuff like that. I just think you need to have a good relationship with it. But yeah, those were the times.

Any goals for 2020?

I don’t know. Taking off the edges creatively and being braver. I think I can be safe sometimes. I want to stop being safe because there’s an unsafe creative person inside of me that needs to fly a little bit.

Who are your Ones To Watch?

That’s a hard question, because I don’t really listen to artists, I listen to songs. There’s actually a song I listen to on tour right now called “Peachy Keen” by L Devine who’s pretty cool. Also started listening to BROCKHAMPTON for the first time, so I’ve been listening to “No Halo” nonstop. It has a lot of the outcast vibes. And then I listen to 3 Doors Down “Here Without You.” Hit. That’s a hit. I also listen to Japanese House quite a lot. I feel like I discover things too late.

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#boy in space #interview #pop #indie pop #singer songwriter

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