#i drew these like a month apart ToT

[sadlad03]

first art of 2024 lol

#happy new year #new years just makes me think of them now #i drew these like a month apart ToT #i think its too obvious that andrew is my favourite #sry neil i still love u #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #all for the game #fanart #sad draws

[hotchkiss-and-tell]

Dates or Time of Year for Each Nancy Drew Game

whatamagicalplace made one of these charts last year. Those efforts gave me a starting point but I wanted to tweak it after doing my own research. I decided to share my final result since my version differs from hers in several ways. My reasoning for each game is discussed below; but if you have any evidence to add, feel free.

SCK: Nancy says in the opening letter she took a semester off school to visit Eloise in Florida. The banners for Senior Prom are still prominent throughout the school and the event is scheduled for May 23. Game takes place in a single day but that day could be any time in late spring semester prior to May 23.

SCK2: Homecoming banners are prominent and the event is scheduled for Sept 23. A flyer with Jake’s secret messages has a date of Sept 05, so let’s assume Jake was still alive then. The game says Nancy is there to investigate after Jake was murdered “last week.” That could mean three to seven days after the murder since it happened on a Thurs. Thus Remastered takes place in a single day but that day could be anywhere from Sept 08 to 22.

STFD: Nov 13 (confirmed with calendar). Game takes place for as many days and nights as player needs.

MHM: “Winter Festival” and Charlie studying for finals indicates late Nov to early Dec. Newspaper about the lost gold at the end is dated Mar 03; it could’ve been published after money settlement and the renovations completed though. Game takes place for as many days and nights as player needs.

TRT: December. The Spanish letter from Lisa’s friend is dated Nov 30 and acknowledges that Lisa is already in Wisconsin. By now, time should be well into Dec. 

FIN: Possibly Nov (game’s release) but there are no confirmed dates on anything. It’s likely during the school year since Maya is doing the interview for the student newspaper. Game takes place over three days.

SSH: Calendar on Henrik’s desk is for the month of April. The book version takes place during the DC Cherry Blossom parade which usually occurs last week of March or early April. Game takes place for as many days as player needs. (Early April timeline would match with end of game trailer and dates for DOG.)

DOG: Jeff’s calendar is open to April. Culprit’s log book says Sally is due to move in to the cabin on April 19. Sally says she spent four weeks at Moon Lake, implying the game starts May 18. But I really don’t see Jeff’s character forgetting to change the calendar, so either Sally moved in early or she means four weeks total including seeing the property, bidding, and the final sale plus moving in. And let’s remember there’s no safe water source, so it’s unlikely Sally could live there for four weeks straight. Sally says the dogs howled a full week before they attacked the house and then they appeared every night since; maybe Sally lasted 9-14 days with the ghost dogs. The game could likely begin anywhere between Apr 28 and May 18. Then continue for as many days and nights as the player needs.

CAR: Culprit’s emails with black market dealer date from May 23 through June 04. Harlan’s appt book opens to June 09-13 with the significant clue on June 10. Game is a single day, likely on June 10, but could be as early as June 05.

DDI: June 17 (confirmed with calendar). Single day of gameplay.

SHA: Sept 15 to 17. Nancy’s airline ticket confirms arrival date in AZ. Timeline of the game takes place in three days. (Tex’s b-day is Sept 16!)

CUR: This is anybody’s guess. Hugh and Linda were married Aug 22. The lawyer’s letter to Mrs. Drake states Linda must live at the manor for another three months to fulfill the “six-month-habitation-clause” and those six months must be consecutive in the first year of marriage. Game could be late Nov at the earliest. However, frogs are chirping when Nancy arrives at the manor which is a spring thing and Bess and George say they are attending sailing camp. The fact that no one is suggesting that Linda can leave due to health reasons and start the six months over when she’s well again makes me think the year is half gone already. So the game could also be taking place in April or May at the latest.

CLK: May 07 (confirmed with calendar). Single day of gameplay.

TRN: We see snow in Copper Gorge, but it’s in Colorado and snow can be any time of year there. Frank and Lori are wearing the puffy vests and everyone else has jackets and sweaters. Fatima says it’s the off-season now and summer is the busy season. Makes me think winter is my best guess.

DAN: Game takes place for as many days as player needs. The newspaper on Day 1 is dated Aug 28. Newspapers continue to appear through Sept 06, which publishes that the journalists are negotiating for raises and the sounds of the impending strike are occurring outside JJ’s apartment. Day 11 (Sept 07) and onward have no more newspapers appear on the kitchen table. Let’s say Aug 28 to Sept 07 for simplicity.

CRE: Mike’s calendar is set to March. Quigley’s tape recorder log updates as of Mar 28. Craven’s shipping records say his latest sample was sent to Aikens Biotech on Apr 09. Game takes place in a single day, probably Apr 09 or 10. (Mike just hasn’t turned over the calendar yet)

ICE: Newspaper in the lodge is dated Jan 13. Elsa’s resignation letter is dated Jan 15. Lodge computer says Lupe checked in on Jan 15 and she noticed the lack of maid services for days. Game likely takes place that same week, starting maybe Jan 18 at the earliest, and lasts over several days and nights.

CRY: May 31 (confirmed with calendar). Single day of gameplay.

VEN: Newspaper in the Ca’ terrace says chalice was stolen “this morning” and the police records say the theft happened Jan 25. When Nancy nabs Nico on the stakeout, the next day’s newspaper is dated Feb 03. Since game takes place over several days, it likely plays from Jan 25 to Feb 03.

HAU: Night of May 28. The wedding is set for June 01. The end dialogue says Kyler and Matt couldn’t stop saying “I love you” from when the rocket launched to four days later, which was their wedding day.

RAN: The float plane pilot says resorts like Dread Isle shut down in the summer for “hurricane season” in the Bahamas. And the game was released in July. Since we see the map that charts all of Nancy’s past cases (including HAU) so the game is after the wedding on Jun 01. But there is no reference to the current date aside from “summer.” Single day of gameplay.

WAC: The essay Mel receives from her teacher with the plagiarist comments is dated Nov 21. Since two more nights of sleep are required to trigger events in the game, we can figure that the game takes place from Nov 21 to 23.

TOT: Scott’s calendar is open to May and filled in with code until the 19th. The log book of precipitation is filled out until May 24. Game likely takes place from May 20 to 25.

SAW: The TE-Japan brochure in Nancy’s teacher tote says her exchange program runs from Jun 01 to Sept 15 with different durations of 2 weeks, 3-4 weeks, and 5-8 weeks. With no specific date in the game and the player taking as many days and nights as needed to solve the mystery, we have to settle for saying it takes place in “summer.”

CAP: Karl’s daily calendar is on page March 12. When Nancy finds the final forged email from “Markus” she remarks that it has tomorrow’s date, which is Mar 13. Game is a single night of play on Mar 12.

ASH: Newspaper and police report of Nancy’s arrest say the game is done in a single day of August 18. The fire took place on Aug 17.

TMB: It’s the desert and there are no dates on any clue in the game. Since Lily is a student and Abdullah and Jon are professors, perhaps the game takes place in summer between any busy semester/class schedules.

DED: Ellie’s notepad in the control booth says she gave the coil demo to Nancy on Oct 29. Nancy arrived in daylight hours but since Ellie is on the night shift, the demo could have taken place on either side of midnight which means the game could start on either Oct 28 or 29. (Nancy arrived 10/28, night fell and midnight passed, then Ellie gives demo 10/29 OR Nancy arrives 10/29, night fell and it’s not midnight yet, then Ellie gives the demo still on 10/29.) Game continues for as many days and nights as the player needs.

GTH: Jessalyn’s phone recorded her bachelorette party antics from the night of Oct 27 to early morning of Oct 28. Addison says Jess had vanished for the second time after sun-up. It is unclear how many days Jessalyn has been missing before Nancy arrives on the island. Nancy was deep asleep when Savannah calls her for help, which means Jess has been gone at least a full day. Then Nancy arrives on the island at night which either means it’s evening on the same day of Savannah’s call or another day has passed by the time Nancy gets there. Oct 29 is the earliest possibility. Game takes place over three nights. Likely set between Oct 29 and Nov 01.

SPY: The newspaper reports that July 14 is near and it will be the eighth anniversary of Revenant’s first attack. Alec’s letter documents that his sister was kidnapped on the first of the month and has not been seen since. Game takes place between Jul 02 and 14. While Nancy cannot sleep or change the time of day, it is hard to believe that traveling back and forth throughout Scotland’s towns and the different phases of the spy operation all take place in a single day.

MED: Summer in the southern hemisphere, so datewise it’s set between Dec and Feb. Again there’s no sleep or time of day transitions but the elimination rounds likely take place over several days.

LIE: Employee timecards are recorded through July 05, the artifact exchange log is filled out through July 06, and the packing slip on the open crate says received July 06. Game is a single day of play, likely on July 06 or 07.

SEA: Soren’s winter guest log says Nancy is visiting in January. Game takes place for as many days and nights as player needs.

MID: Minion’s plane ticket TO Austria where the game begins is dated Oct 26 and the game goes into Halloween.

#all games #chart #Nancy Drew #look what i made

[blackjack-15]

The Weight of Living — Thoughts on: The Deadly Device (DED)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC, TOT, SAW, CAP, ASH, TMB

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it. For this meta, like TMB, there will be an extra section entitled “The Theme” between The Mystery and The Suspects.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with my list of previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: DED, TMB; brief mentions of FIN, SSH, and ICE; brief mention of Iron Man (2008).

The Intro:

First off, this meta was supposed to be uploaded well over a week ago, and I apologize; life and health kind of got in the way, but it should be more constant for these last 3 metas.

I hope.

Like I mentioned with the last meta, this will be kind of a companion/two-piece meta with TMB. Where TMB focused on the effects of the dead on the living, DED instead focuses on the living’s effects on the dead — the dead in this case being Niko Jovic, of course. Let’s dive into that, shall we?

Just like how everything in TMB was dead, everything (other than Niko, rest in peace) in the lab is alive. The lab is full of people, of research — “living knowledge” in other words — of live wires and electricity, and is constantly growing and changing, just like a living organism does. With all this life present, the game is mostly concerned with how the living affect Niko.

What’s left of Niko after his death is his legacy — his work, his personality, his relationships (or lack thereof) with others, and it’s fascinating to see how our characters deal with and affect that. Grey is dedicating to curating Niko’s legacy (at Niko’s request, it should be noted), Ryan lives in awe of it, and Mason and Ellie are more pragmatic, wanting to use his legacy and work to improve their own lives. Victor, on the other hand, wants Niko’s legacy all to himself — to effectively erase it, in other words, which is another marker of him being our out-and-out villain.

Niko was divisive in life, and is even more so in death — no one can quite say exactly who he was. A jerk, a total scientist, someone who needed caring for, naïve, a useful tool — all of these were how people thought of him, and all of these were a part of who he was. In the end, it’s the efforts of the living that kill Niko — Ryan’s engineering, Ellie and Mason’s lack of concern, Grey’s reticence to get involved, and Victor’s machinations – along with his own secrecy and feeling of being apart from the world — or dead to it, more appropriately.

Stepping back from our characters and the weight of the living for a bit, let’s talk about the other thing that really makes DED stand out not only as a game but specifically as a Nancy Drew game — that is, its design in being a game that subverts the Nancy Drew formula at every turn.

There are a few obvious ones, like a phone character turning to a real-life suspect (rather than the other way around, like in TMB and ICE, or in any other game, where phone characters are Above Suspicion), the person hiring Nancy actually being the baddie, and Nancy having her safe places removed throughout the game, rather than crossing off locations where Bad Things can happen, but the more interesting ones are a little more subtle.

Our suspects provide a few more subversions — for example, our ‘meanest’ characters (Mason and Gray) are neither our explicit Good Guys or our definite Bad Guys, as often tends to be the case in Nancy Drew games. We also have suspects who hate each other openly revealed to be working together towards a common goal, which is a nice twist on the Warring Suspects trope that we see in quite a few games (ICE, FIN, SSH, etc.).

Finally, the structure of the mystery gives us our last two subversions. Instead of our normal Nancy Drew status quo where the characters are simple but their motivations end up being surprising/hidden/secret, we here have a straightforward motive — remove Niko to get his stuff — and our characters are the part that’s not straightforward, with each of them having warring traits within themselves that contribute to the fog surrounding the mystery.

Our villain also fails in this game through the cover-up, not through the crime. Normally, there’s a mistake that the culprit makes during the committing of a crime that Nancy finds evidence of later — a dropped business card, etc. — but in this case, it’s really only the cover up that implicates Victor at all, and he would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for, well, himself.

These subversions wouldn’t have been possible 10 or 15 games ago, and it’s a mark of how far the games have come that a game can be dedicated to subverting the usual formula and do it with such panache — and make a great game out of it, besides.

The Title:

 As a title, The Deadly Device is pretty solid, if lacking a bit of flash. It gives us our method of murder and the academic ‘scope’ (i.e., science/engineering) that we’re playing in for this game, and tells us our crime — can’t be a deadly device without someone ending up, you know, dead — but doesn’t do a lot outside of that and hinting that the dead as a thematic element will have some role to play.

The reason the title is solid, however, rather than lacking, is that there’s not much else to call it that’s quite as well-fit to the game. It pulls (in a matter of speaking) from two Nancy Drew stories, The Crime Lab Case — which, as a title, yawn — and In and Out of Love, a story from the Nancy-at-college era that tried to be Hotter and Sexier than the previous books, but just ended up being a bit ridiculous. Neither one of those titles would have been any better — they would have been significantly worse, honestly, so The Deadly Device will stand as a good, solid effort for a great game.

The Mystery:

Disaster has struck at Technology of Tomorrow Today, a research lab in snowy Colorado: the lead scientist, a man named Niko Jovic, has been discovered dead in the Tesla Coil lab of electrocution. Months later, the case has gone cold, so owner Victor Losset decides to take matters into his own hands and hires Nancy to find his employee’s killer — not that there’s any doubt in his mind that Ryan Kilpatrick, the engineer who built the coil that killed Niko, is responsible.

When Nancy arrives on-scene and undercover, however, things aren’t quite as cut and dry as Victor would have her believe. It seems that everyone at the lab has means, motive, and opportunity — and whoever killed Niko doesn’t have any qualms about killing a nosy detective to cover up their crime…

Like with TMB, DED isn’t that interested in obscuring its bad guy to a “gotcha!” moment at the very end of the game. Instead, it’s largely concerned with putting disparate personalities under a huge amount of pressure and seeing what results. No one at the lab is super fond of anyone else who works there, nor of their superiors or employer(s), and all have the equipment and the intelligence to make use of the equipment to deadly ends.

Also like TMB, the crime has already been committed or begun, and it’s not Nancy’s job to prevent it — nothing is going to bring Niko back, after all — but to put together the post-mortem pieces and discover what really happened in the past, and the effect that the living have on the dead. It’s a thematic sort of conflict, and it really helps to elevate the game past “fun science mystery”. And speaking of thematic resonance in this game…

The Theme:

As we discussed last time, TMB was a game about fear — fear of death, of responsibility, of ignominy, of failure, etc. Being its sister game, DED is focused on the opposite of fear: acceptance. Instead of failure, responsibility, and other ever-present fears, DED is about the acceptance of the good, the bad, of yourself, and what others will do with your work and legacy once you’re gone.

In other words, DED is a game most concerned, thematically speaking, with certainty and resolve, rather than fear.

One of the biggest thematic elements in the game that proves this point is the presence of Niko’s recorded diaries. Not only does this feature some excellent voice acting by Josh Crandall, but it also gives a dead character the chance to discuss his motivations, his considerations, and — importantly — his sense of his impending death.

At no point does Niko dissolve into hysterics or even palpable fear; he simply accepts that there are consequences for both his and others’ actions, and that there are people in the world who believe the opposite of what he believes in — and are willing to kill for it.

Niko was a man who personified resolve and acceptance to a fault — had he informed others that his life was in danger, Victor would have had a much harder time killing him — but was also jealous of those who didn’t have to or have the capacity to have that kind of acceptance:

“I see why Tesla liked his pigeons. They fly only where they’re directed, and never question the effect the beating of their wings will have on the skies and the world below.”

The lack of acceptance in our villain is actually what leads to his downfall. The case has gone cold, and Victor is, legally speaking, off the hook — but he can’t accept that he’s gotten away with it, and instead decides to push it one step too far by hiring a detective. Had he not hired anyone, he would have been free and clear for the rest of his life — if the police weren’t able to find anything, the chances of them reopening the cold case are extremely slim — but instead Victor couldn’t accept it, and so hired the instrument of his own demise.

Every suspect has their own resolve in this game, and it’s that facet of their personalities that gives Nancy such a hard time at first, because none of that resolve includes answering the questions of a pesky investigator.

The Suspects:

First off is Obadiah Stane Victor Lossett, Nancy’s boss, owner of Technology of Tomorrow Today, and super evil killer of scientists who piss him off and prevent him from making oodles of money.

Like I mentioned above in “The Mystery”, the game isn’t so much concerned with obscuring Victor’s role as the bad guy. It’s a lovely moment when he shows up, changing from phone to real-life character (and suspect) — it’s in fact one of my favorite moments in the series, and I’ve spoken about it before in my list of the top 5 twists/surprising moments in the series — but it’s not a surprise that he’s involved in Niko’s death.

Victor fulfills the subversion of the formula that DED plays with a while also telling the correct story and theme for the game: he’s a man who took advantage of others for his own personal gain, and so everything he has is taken from him — including his notoriety — because of his lack of acceptance of the world.

“The world fondly remembers those who always give, and soon forgets those who only take.”

Next on the list is Ryan Kilpatrick, Victor’s favored patsy suspect and technical engineer at TTT. Energetic and quirky to (in my opinion) a fault, Ryan warned Niko several times that the Tesla coil would kill him, and then did exactly what he wanted her to do anyway.

To be fair to the girl, she was definitely in love with him, albeit a love more based on pity than on straight-out affection. “He had no one else in the world looking after him”, anyone?

Ryan only makes sense in a world where Niko was killed in the way that it appears first: by a simple malfunction in the Tesla Coil. Because Ryan built it, she would be legally responsible for his death, even though he was her boss when he told her to build it that way. It would be a simple, easy answer, and one that would have been totally thematically opposite of the story the game was telling, which makes her the perfect “preferred” suspect for Victor’s ruse.

Our two research assistants are next for consideration, so let’s start with Ellie York, our night-shift assistant who switched in order to avoid her coworker. A Good Southern Girl, Ellie is not above talking smack with a pretense of politeness and has a rather sinister motive up her sleeve.

Despite the fact that all research done at a lab is property of the lab, she (and Mason) decides that Isn’t Fair and tries to shop around their research to the highest bidder in an attempt to make enough money to pay off her debts.

The fact that she’s selling research that isn’t wholly done by her or Mason when she’s mad that her research is being (contractually and legally) used by someone else does rather put a damper on her ‘righteous anger’, doesn’t it.

As a villain, Ellie would have had to be a pair with Mason, which would have been interesting and a parallel to TMB, but just wouldn’t have told the story that DED wanted to tell. It would have been a story about backbiting and jealousy within a workplace, and thus would have lost its resonance with the historical backstory and with who Niko was as a person. As the victim makes the murder, Ellie (or Mason, or and Mason) would have been a poor choice.

Mason Quinto works the day shift and is far more neurotic than his night-shift companion, though just as guilty of attempting to sell research. He prefers his space neat and orderly, and gets quite steamed when Ellie messes it up to piss him off.

Yeah, there’s no way those two don’t end up in bed when they’re drunk. Honestly.

While the more ‘scientist’-like and nerdy of the two assistants, Mason is, in a refreshing change from normal tropes, also the more maverick of the two, running away with Niko’s work after the murder is solved and is only found at an expo by Gray a bit later, where a fight erupts until Mason comes back to work with Gray and Ellie.

He can also turn into a supervillain in a second chance, which is awesome.

Like I said above with Ellie, the only way Mason makes sense as the villain is to be a pair with Ellie, but it just isn’t the right story, thematically speaking. Mason (and Ellie) are a great example of how everyone in DED is guilty of something, whether they think they’re justified or not, and how putting these kind of people in a pressure cooker and turning it on only leads to disaster, sooner or later.

The last still-living member of our cast is Gray Cortright, security guard and ex-theoretical physicist, along with being probably Niko’s only friend — for a certain value of ‘friend’, it should be noted. Gray used to be the “smart one” until he went through what is basically a nervous breakdown due to his knowledge of theoretical physics and never quite recovered.

I’ll note that Gray would have been a more obvious choice for the early Nancy Drew games; a friendship gone wrong, a slightly “crazy” villain — the pieces are there. But because DED subverts the Classic Formula, Gray is instead probably the only person fully on Niko’s side — no tricks, no ulterior motives, no nothing. He’s exactly what he presents himself to be: gruff, grumpy, unkind, and not even close to a murderer (except, perhaps, where Mason is involved).

Let’s finish off our roll call with Niko Jovic, our murder victim and one of two foils for Nancy in this game. Niko was “100% a scientist”, interested most in the free use and free sharing of technological and scientific advancement, and less interested in developing technology to harm others.

This didn’t make him very popular with those who wanted to harm others, funnily enough.

It’s important that our victim in this case foils Nancy, because this is a game about (as we’ve discussed) acceptance and consequences. The consequence of Niko not paying attention to the fact that other people in the world are not like him was that there was an opening for a bad man to kill him. It’s not Niko’s fault that he was killed, but neither was he unaware that it was coming. He’s described as a ‘dead brilliant jerk madman’, and there’s a lot of truth in that; those who ultimately do good things and work hard are not always good or kind or nice themselves.

And yes, this is how he relates to Nancy. Nancy, like Niko, is a person who rather thinks what most of us would call “people skills” or “kindness” get in the way of the most important thing: solving puzzles and figuring things out. Both of them make the world better through their work, but honestly speaking, that’s not their ultimate aim. They’re not working directly to improve the world, they’re working for knowledge and to solve the puzzle.

In other words, they’re investigators, not philanthropists. And often (ultimately, for Niko), that’s what puts them in danger.

Over on Team Nancy, we have some familiar faces, beginning with our most unfamiliar familiar face, Nancy herself.

Hired as a professional detective undercover, Nancy Drew arrives at the lab to ferret out the murderer — and the truth behind Niko’s death — before anyone figures out that she’s not actually there on behalf of a new owner.

We learn a lot about Nancy in this game, not the least of which because she’s in what we can cheerfully call the opposite of her element (contrasting with TMB). Closely observed, surrounded by a subject that’s not quite in her normal wheelhouse, and where everyone around her is hell-bent on hiding everything they can from her — it’s a recipe for a frustrated detective, and that’s part of the reason that we see the return of not one but two (three? technically) detective (or detective-adjacent) phone friends, rather than Bess/George/Ned.

(Side Note: George, for all her specialty with science and technology, wouldn’t have been a good phone friend for this game, as she would have focused on the science, which isn’t really the point of Nancy’s investigation, and not enough on the case. Just putting that out there.)

This game features Nancy as a sort of patsy, rather than an unexpected observer or the target of revenge, and it should be no surprise that she outgrows that role fairly quickly. Her reluctance to search for evidence against someone, rather than evidence for the crime, clears the hurdle of Ryan’s Suspected Involvement pretty quickly while being the opposite of what Victor wanted out of her assistance.

On display here is Nancy’s fairness and her ability to ignore what others say about a case if it doesn’t suit her. Sure, she’s been told to watch Ryan and find her guilty, but Nancy’s pretty uninterested in that, instead centering her search around Niko rather than Ryan. Ellie makes a comment about Mason being about 60% scientist (and Niko being 100%), and it’s fair to say that Nancy’s about 60% a detective; she has other interests and motivations, but when she’s ‘at work’, she’s focused on doing her job to the greatest extent that she can — which is what makes her such a problem for Victor in the long run. And speaking of problems for Victor…

Returning from her role as the gloriously catty mean girl in ASH is Deirdre Shannon, criminology student and absolute sass master. Busted for hiring someone to write an essay for her in college, Deirdre’s clever enough to suggest making up the credit by assisting in a real-life murder investigation — albeit with a heavy dose of sarcasm for her frenemy.

Besides having the best lines in the game (her “did you forget that I don’t like you?” and voicemail message are incredible, along with her assertion that Nancy should get her head checked out due to her repeated hits on the head), Deirdre is there to help Nancy see things from a different perspective and to clue her in on information that she has no way to get — backing up alibis, old publications, and the like. She’s less concerned with the background of the case — the Hardy Boys (!!) have that covered — and is more here to figure out exactly who can be taken off of Nancy’s suspect list and why.

She also, in a rather glorious twist of fate, is the reason that Nancy is hired, having told Victor that Nancy suffers from “chronic wrongness”, among other things. I can just imagine how pissed Victor must have been in jail with her — more than with Nancy, certainly — and can easily see a future where, upon his release/escape, Victor goes after Deirdre — it was after all Deirdre, not Nancy, who cleared Ryan.

But enough about games that would have been better than MID. That’s a nigh-unquenchable topic.

Deirdre’s there as the more prominent foil to Nancy within the game — and the game isn’t shy about foiling the two women. Both are bright, both come from River Heights, both are interested in/involved with the same boy, both are involved in crimes/criminology to some extent…the list goes on.

The thing that Deirdre-as-foil shows us about Nancy is that Nancy isn’t unique in what she does. Sure, the way she got into the mystery business and her credentials are unusual, but she’s far from the only girl in her late teens that’s interested in crime and mysteries, and far from the only one who can solve these types of mysteries.

Deirdre is often referred to as “the girl who could have been Nancy Drew” had things worked out differently for her — different parents, different friends, different connections, etc. — and we see that play out here. She’s not lacking for smarts, intuitive thinking, or creative problem solving — just in opportunity.

The Hardy Boys are here for their only appearance in the Nancy Games, and boy do they do The Most.

When last we saw him, Frank Hardy was helping Nancy out with a ‘relationship talk’, but here he’s interested in two things: talking to Nancy and researching to help Nancy. He’s quite proud of Nancy and her reputation, and is more than willing to help her on the case — though his first priority is her safety, as demonstrated by the voicemail.

That really should be capitalized, huh. “The Voicemail”.

I first wanna say kudos to DED for actually making progress in Frank’s character arc and relationship with Nancy, and giving context to his sulking in the next game. So often in games like the Nancy Drew games — and indeed, in the earlier games in this series — there’s an addiction to the status quo that doesn’t really allow for anyone to learn anything permanent, much less something that changes their behavior, so I’m pretty thrilled with this development even outside of shipping.

Second, I love that this is a topic that both boys are interested in, albeit for different reasons. Too often we have either Frank or Joe being enthusiastic about the context of Nancy’s investigation, and it’s nice here to see that the boys can agree on something — even if their answers are different as to why.

Speaking of different reasons for interest, Joe Hardy is back (we haven’t seen him for quite a few games!) and is better than ever. I’ve said it before (and I’ll say it again), but really Rob Jones does a phenomenal job with Joe, especially as the games progress, and DED is a perfect example. Joe’s dialogue is pitch-perfect and his excitement about Tesla is adorable.

I’m also going to point out that Joe’s identity as a very proficient tactician is in play in this game, as he is the one to point out how very strange it is that a man of means and importance would hire Nancy — not that, as Frank points out, Nancy doesn’t have a great reputation, but just that Victor should be able to hire a world-class detective rather than a girl in her late teens to investigate this murder.

The thing that the Hardy Boys are here to represent is Nancy’s fledgling footing into the professional world. Sure, she’s been a detective for hire for a while now, and TOT sort of ushered her into that world for good, but the Boys have been doing this for much, much longer, and have the sort of resources that make a huge difference when investigating crimes like murder versus circumstances like “my daughter is unhappy go help her”.

For all of Nancy’s natural inclinations, talents, and drive that make her a good detective, the Hardy Boys (along with Deirdre) show the downside of being an autodidact: the breadth of your resources isn’t anywhere near what others’ might be. The things she needs to solve this mystery are privy to those with better resources — colleges and agencies — and she has to rely on them to get the job done.

The Favorite:

DED is a game that I didn’t expect to like, but ended up really loving, so there’s quite a few things in this section that stand out.

The first thing I want to mention is I love Ellie and Mason’s interactions. In a lot of Nancy Drew games, we get the characters interacting with Nancy, but not so much interacting with each other, so it’s always a pleasure for me when it happens.

Deirdre holds her title as one of my favorite characters in this series, so of course she’s going to get a mention here. The “TDPD” segment has me rolling on the floor, her comment about Nancy volunteering for a neurological study sounds exactly like what a lot of fans joke about, and her voice acting (major props to Meaghan Halverson) is equal parts snide and earnest, all without ever losing her edge or likability.

As anyone who’s been in the vicinity of these metas knows, I’m a huge fan of the Hardy Boys, and I love their inclusion here. The geeking out over Tesla, the brotherly camaraderie, the hints at Frank’s feelings, Joe teasing Frank about said feelings — it’s all here, and it’s all wonderful.

My favorite puzzle would probably have to be the whole fingerprint-melting-gummy-bear puzzle, just because — I mean, at the end of the day, that’s just cool. I did a forensic-science-style unit in my elementary years where we printed fingerprints and distinguished between whorls and such and this made me exactly as excited as I had been all those years ago. It’s fun, fitting with the story, and involves gummy candies — what’s not to like?

My favorite moment — and I’ve mentioned this once already in this meta, and in a different meta — is the moment that Victor shows up. Savvy players of this series would know that there’s no way HER would include a model of Victor just for a video call, so it’s not exactly a surprise, but it’s such a wonderfully scary moment without being a jump scare or a startle.

Victor’s appearance closes down Nancy’s snooping spots, removes a safe place for her, turns the last bit of the game into a sort of mix of detective and stealth game, and is a huge subversion of the usual “phone-client” formula, and I absolutely love it.

My last favorite thing about this game is when you realize that Victor hired Nancy due to her supposed incompetence, rather than her being, in Frank’s words, one of the best that there is. It chills you down to the bone and makes the whole game feel more antagonistic as a result, and is just a really nice writing moment.

The Un-Favorite:

There are, however, a few things that maybe aren’t so grand in this game, even with all its good points.

My least favorite puzzle is probably the chemical puzzle — with the beakers and the exploding water and such — just because it’s quite finicky, and it takes up time that I’d rather be doing other things with. I thought about the printing puzzle, but honestly even though it takes time within the game to do it, there’s plenty of other things to do with Nancy’s time that makes the time spent there not so big a deal.

My least favorite moment in the game is, quite frankly, the time spent talking to Ryan. I find all the characters interesting as characters, but Ryan is exactly the kind of Quirk that I don’t handle well, in real life and in video games.

Honestly, her remark of “I less-than-three them!” was enough to get me to stand up and walk away from the game for a minute the first time I played through it.

Had this game come out a few decades earlier, she would have referred to Niko as “totally tubular” and stuff like that, and it’s…it’s just a lot to handle for me personally.        

The Fix:

So how would I fix The Deadly Device?

Honestly speaking, this is a game where there’s not a lot to do. I’d probably tweak Ryan to be a little less annoying and smooth out the chemicals puzzle, but those are more personal grievances than they are actual issues with the plot and writing.

Probably the only substantial thing I’d do is tie in the robotic cat plotline a little more. As it is, it’s easy to ignore and doesn’t have a lot of plot or thematic resonance, so I’d make it a little more important and noteworthy. And less scary looking.

DED is a game that sets out to tell a good story while subverting the usual Nancy Drew formula in big and small ways, and honestly it succeeds at both of those things with flying colors. It really feels like a setting where life went on before and will go on after Nancy leaves it, which is Valuable to me all by itself, and features some of the more colorful moments in the series — all while solving an actual murder for the first time since a Florida high school in the 90s.

#nancy drew #nancy drew games #the deadly device #clue crew #nancy drew meta #DED #video games #my meta

[maybankiara]

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

16: LITTLE BIRDIE

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.

w/c: 800

a/n: if you got complains and all that, you know where my inbox is! 

read on wattpad

previous part | series masterlist

Winnie | 8:29pm A little birdie told me you’re going on a date with Holden in two days...

Me | 8:30pm A little birdie? 🤔

Winnie | 8:30pm Ok a 6’1 birdie named after the dude from Catcher in the Rye who couldn’t keep his mouth shut 🤷‍♀️ Winnie | 8:30pm CONGRATULATIONNSSSS Winnie | 8:31pm Also thank you I won the bet bc of you ❤❤❤

Me | 8:31pm HAHAHAH Me | 8:32pm I knew he would end up telling you 😂 Me | 8:32pm What bet btw?

Winnie | 8:32pm Wes and I might’Ve started a lil bet Winnie | 8:33pm The night we all went out 🙈 Winnie | 8:33pm And we might’ve gotten most people from the internship in on it...

Me | 8:35pm Dude no fucking way 😂😂😂 Me | 8:36pm What was the bettt

Winnie | 8:37pm There was a lot of variables Winnie | 8:37pm Different details Winnie | 8:38pm I was the only one who put money on Holden asking you out within a month of the night out and you saying yes Winnie | 8:38pm Scored 200 bucks ❤❤❤

Me | 8:39pm Aw that’s cute Me | 8:39pm I better get at least some of that money 😊

Winnie | 8:41pm I’ll go to the bakery tomorrow and get the sandwich for you tomorrow!!!

Me | 8:42pm omg I wasn’t being serious but thank you!!

Winnie | 8:43pm Anything ❤ Winnie | 8:43pm Now spill the tea girl!!

◇

Holden Bradfield | 2:28pm Meet you at yours at 7?

Me | 2:31pm Can we do 6 instead? Me | 2:31pm I want to get a lot of sleep for tomorrow hahaha it’s study day

Holden Bradfield | 2:33pm Absolutely 😁 Holden Bradfield | 2:34pm Same place where I dropped you off?

Me | 2:35pm Yeah Me | 2:35pm First floor, apartment B Me | 2:35pm My roommate is away for the weekend so if nobody opens, just give me a call 😊

Holden Bradfield | 2:36pm Will do!

◇

Winnie | 5:23pm Have fun on the date girl ❤❤

Me | 5:27pm Thanks!! ❤

◇

Virgin Mary | 8:29pm don’t forget about the box of condoms behind the telly!!! 😘

◇

‘Hi! One second. Tom, I’m on the phone to Addie and—’

‘Hi Addie!’

‘What’s up, Tom?’

‘Tom, can you give us a second?’

‘Just leave me on speak—’

‘I’m not leaving you on speaker! This is a best friend matter, Tom.’

‘But I wanna know.’

‘You can tell him later, Marianne.’

‘Okay, Addie says I can tell if you won’t be a pestering little bitch. I’ll come back once I’m finished. Okay, I'm alone.’

‘Geez, finally.’

‘Yeah... So what’s up?’

‘I’m hiding in his bathroom.’

‘You’re WHAT now?’

‘Shh, don’t yell at me.’

‘You’re being about fifty shades of stupid now, love. Of fuckin’ course I am going to yell at you. What's happening?’

‘We came here to watch a movie after dinner. He offered to give me a ride home anytime.’

‘And you are hiding in the bathroom because...? Addie?’

‘I didn’t— I don’t want to rush into things.’

‘Having sex on the first date isn't the devil’s work, love. Tom and I did and look at us now!’

‘Tom and you crossed the fucking ocean just to shag another Brit. And you argue, like, all the time.’

‘Quarter in the jar once you’re home. Another one for being a bitch. Addie, don’t shag him if you don’t want to.’

‘What if I do?’

‘Does he?’

‘...I think so?’

‘Go for it! Oh, wait— What about Drew?’

‘WHAT about Drew?’

‘Don’t you like him?’

‘It’s not like that, Marianne.’

‘I thought we concluded it IS like that.’

‘No, I’m— It’d be too complicated. I like Holden. We make a good team. We do the same job, have the same interests, see each other every single day.’

‘If you say you like him 'cause he’s stable I will—’

‘But he is! He’s reliable. And the thing is, with him, I get flutters and all. Excited. I like the idea of working with him all the time. With Drew, everything’s just very calm and not exciting. So that’s us being just friends. ...Marianne?’

‘Go for it, then. If you like Holden, go for it.’

‘You sure?’

‘Mon Dieu, Addie, it’s your bloody life. Shag him or not. Propose to him if you will, just make up your bloody mind. You’ve got to start living your life, gal. Things shouldn’t consist of a ten-year plan. Shake it up, love!’

‘Okay. Thanks. I’ll see what I’ll do.’

‘You’re welcome, bitch.’

‘Tell Tom I said hi!’

‘Yeah, I will, go start living already!’

‘Marianne, you are being—’

◇

17: JOSIE

tagging. @jjmaybanksbaby @taiter-tots @sacredto @snkkat @drewswannabegirl @yeslifeofateen @rudypnkw @stfukie @x-lulu @drewstarkey @butgilinsky @solllaris @hyperactive2411 @chasefreakinstokes @surferkie @jroseron @k-k0129 @starlightstories​ @rafecameron

#drew starkey #outer banks #obx #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey fic #phone swap series

[samuel-dean]

No Clear Understanding

INVOLVED: Samuel Evans and Mercedes Jones LOCATION: Evans’ Estate; Irving, Texas TIME FRAME: Flashback NOTES: Samuel and Mercedes run into each other hours after Patty showed herself in the Texas Estate. The two finish their previous discussion some-what.

The master bedroom in Samuel's Texas estate was ridiculous. The suite was the size of a three-bedroom premier apartment in Atlanta all by itself. And she didn't even have the desire to explore it. Shouldering one piece of luggage, she missed a step, catching herself from a fall just in the nick of time. "Shit!" Mercedes cursed as she tugged angrily at the hand of the Louis Vuitton rolling bag, as she marched towards the bedroom door. It was amazing how spoiled she'd allowed herself to become in the space of a few months. "Now your dumbass can't even walk a straight line and pull a bag at the same time." She mumbled, disgustedly. 

 Samuel felt no more enlightened on anything than he had before he spoke with Patty and his lawyer. Luckily for him, he’d taken out a lot of time to write his thoughts out while they were on the private jet. He’d let Mercedes read over it and tell him if she felt it was good enough or even edit what was missing or inappropriate. He sighed using the elevator to move to the floor his suite was on. He’d have to think about that later right now, there were more important things to deal with.

 At the door Mercedes used her free hand to quietly twist the knob of the bedroom door. She eased her head out into the hallway, looking back and forth down the corridor. It was empty. Thank goodness, she thought fully emerging from the suite. Adjusting the bag on her shoulder, she moved down the hallway toward the elevator, which was in the direction of Nouvel's wing. 

 Samuel waited until the elevator came to a stop and he opened the door moving to walk out of it. He stood there at the end of the hallway and he tilted his head to the side as he watched Mercedes bags in hand. Blinking slowly, he stood there in that position sliding his hands in his pockets. 

 Mercedes watched her feet as she moved up the hall, cursing herself and Samuel for fools two times over. “That bitch… the future Mrs. Evans.” She mocked childishly, “He bought that bitch a whole fucking car… I’m the dumbass. His dick ain’t that good.” She mumbled, desperately wanting to regulate her feelings to something she could outright understand. She looked up at the last moment and stumbled for the second time, as there quiet as a church mouse loomed Samuel. Licking her lips and squaring her shoulder she exhaled and continued in the direction of Nouvel’s room. 

 Samuel continued to watch the woman as he eyed the luggage once more that she’d been totting in his direction. Even as she stumbled, he didn’t move, he instead continued to watch her as she did not direct any words towards him at all but instead proceeded to move in whatever direction she was aiming for. She blinked hard again, his eyes looming over her as he continued to stand there. 

 This was harder than she expected. Annoying. She had so many questions. Did he look calmer? Most likely, she thought, heat rising into flames. Of course he did, Patty was here. “Don’t look at me like that Samuel.” Mercedes said, taking the hard right. “You know how to speak your mind when it serves so cut the mute act.” 

 Samuel tucked his lips in a small chuckle leaving him shortly after, he wished he could have not seen this coming therefore he could offer her the response she needed. But considering she happened to be very predictable, well that left him with his silence. As she spoke finally saying her peace, he nodded his head slowly. “So, you take your things, you take Nouvel. You go. Now what?” he asked with a slight shrug. “Then what?” he said another chuckle leaving him as he stood there, his body still didn’t turn or shift in anyway. He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling rolling his eyes. Life had its high and its lows, he’d always contest money made no real difference when it came to that sentiment. He had far too much on his plate to add Mercedes’ rage to it. She could join the other dozen on people calling him a murderer right down to their president. Was he supposed to get on his knees and plead with insanity? Honestly after everything he said what more could she long for? 

 Mercedes stopped short, back rigid. She didn’t turn to look back at Samuel, she couldn’t. Unshed tears had finally broken through, cutting their way down the light layer of makeup that remained on her face. “I don’t lie.” She said, tossing her bag from her shoulder and letting it hit the floor. “I said you were my family and I meant every word of it. Then and now.” She sighed deep and heavy in her chest. “Funny how it works out. Cheaters are the one afraid of getting cheated on. And the lairs are afraid of getting lied to. Baby, you have too much to worry about and I don’t really feel like being around you right now. I’m not leaving, you presumptuous asshole, but Nouvel has a whole wing and right now I want that between you and I. I need time to process. If that’s okay, your highness?” 

 Samuel finally turned around looking at nothing more than her back. As she began to explain her feelings and what her intentions were, he sighed heavily to himself no less. He rested his hands on his hips “but-“ he said to her. “Yes,” he said defeatedly, after a few moments. He shook his head slightly as he moved to walk away finally, he was headed for his suite no less. He was drained, in more ways than one and obviously he couldn’t fight her on her decision so why bother? He’d rather just let her have her way. 

 Mercedes listened to the sound of his voice, her stomach turning over. He was so tired. She wanted nothing more than to set her own anger aside and go to him. She teetered on the edge of that thought for a long moment. “How can I believe you and be mad that you lied to me all at the same time? Which emotion should I go with? And when will one of those thoughts bite me on the ass. I’ve survived this long by following my gut. Logic over emotion every single time. -Be it in business or with men. You were wise not to fire Patty. I know that’s true. I know it. It doesn’t stop my emotions from being so angry with you, and I can’t check them around you. I keep the prospective. I can’t..” 

 Samuel turned back to Mercedes and he tilted his head to the side again, he didn’t have an answer for her questions. He couldn’t answer that for her, his methods to solving problems were far different from hers honestly. He licked his lips slowly and he told her something he’d not dare to in the past considering. “Do what’s best for you and Nouvel” he said to her simply. 

 Mercedes nodded then drew in a deep ragged breath. If she knew what was best, she wouldn’t have asked the questions. Or maybe she just needed to hear her own thoughts out loud. Either way there wasn’t a crystal ball to say which was the right choice. She would make the one she perceived as best. Her way of thinking had preserved her for years and now should be no different. “Okay.” She uttered nodding, again in a more resolute way. “You’re right.” She wiped her cheeks quickly then leaned down and pulled her bag back up onto her shoulder. Grabbing her other bag, she tugged it along behind her. “Can you do me a favor. Have Patty forward me the names of the men that were lost and their next of kin, please.” She said, adding grit back into her tone.   

Samuel watched her gather her things again and when she asked him for a favor he raised an eyebrow up at her. “I’ll do it myself” he told her, an odd request from her. He’d never understand women he thought to himself as he moved to walk away, headed for his room as he were before.

#thread: no clear understanding #thread. #samcedes rp

[khhunniewriting]

You Made Me...

[ Mature Content / SMUT ALERT! ] 

Warning: This is not your regularly scheduled programming. This is NOT soft Dabin. This is jerk Dabin with some bad relationship advice.

Itallics= SMUT! RATED R / MA (You can skip it and still get the whole fic)

“Hello,” you answered your phone with a sigh. How long had it been? You didn’t know. Months for sure. 

Dabin’s head perked up from the slumped state it had been in. He ran his hand through his hair finding the proper words. “Hello, my lovely flower...” He paused almost certain he would hear a string of curses directed at him.

Instead, you sighed in annoyance. The sweet nickname caught you off-guard. His calls were starting to increase. “It is past midnight Dabin.” You knew him. He had probably just gotten home to his dark lonely apartment. WIth nothing to do his mind probably wandered. It was flattering to know you were what he thought of at his most vulnerable.

After running into him you were expecting his call. His eyes could be felt, he followed you from across the room HIs eyes always carefully averted yours when you would turn. It wasn’t until the end that your eyes met and a silent agreement was formed to have the conversation that was about to unfold.

“I made you.”

“You did...” you agreed whole-heartedly. It was thanks to him that you had become so guarded yet so free. Now that you knew all men lie you threw caution to the wind and became a whole new person. The rose color glasses you used to see life through were gone. Now you knew the only thing you should be chasing is your own pleasure. “You made me bad and naughty.”

Dabin’s chest tightened as he held back a groan of need and desire.  That didn’t stop the small growl that came with his next statement. “I know what I did...” he trailed off, the image of you clinging to Gray came to mind. The memory became distorted as his regrets made him imagine this new you tangled in bedsheets. He couldn’t stand the idea of Gray reaping the benefits of your new found confidence and attitude. “And we both know why I did it.”

“Ha,” you scoffed in disbelief. “Dabin,” you let his name roll off your tongue with a sultry smooth voice. “Everyone knows thanks to the image you painted of me.” It hurt when you first caught his friends talking about you behind your back. What hurt most was knowing Dabin was the one who put the words in their mouths. “I heard you... I heard them, all of you call me a bitch for leaving you.”

Silence. Dabin didn’t know what to say. He never imagined you had heard him. At the moment he was mad, trying to get some steam off by saying it was all on you. “...Sorry-”

“I’m proud of it.” 

His opinions had all but helped you earn a bit of a reputation. Not all bad. After all, you were being treated like a Queen by your current boyfriend. 

Dabin’s eyes widened... you really had changed.

It was too late to apologize. Nothing he said could stop you from feeling like a fool for ever believing his honeyed words of affection. “Be honest with me Dabin...what did you want?”

Once again silence. Dabin knew what he wanted now. He wanted you, your body. He wanted to have you in front of him, sitting on his lap- no straddling it. He wanted your lips on his.

But back then...What did he want? Back when you were his.

“I would like to think you actually loved me but I’ve been wrong before.” You needed to believe you had more to offer than physical attraction. “You had me first...so you must know.” It was hard to talk about yourself with your ex, someone who had known you inside and out at one point.

You sighed breathlessly as Dabin’s hands began to roam higher up your thigh. They were slightly colder or perhaps you were just too hot inside that your skin reflected it. Every time he got closer to the place you needed him most, he withdrew. 

He was teasing you. 

“Dabin please...”

He loved seeing how you writhed and pleaded for him to continue doing what he wanted to your body. After all, nothing was sexier to him than knowing that you willingly wanted him to indulge. “What is it my pretty little flower...” one finger ghosted around the bundle of nerves that was to blame. “What do you want me to do?”

Looking away you managed to let a few words out. “Pl-please...touch me.”

A devilish smirk adorned his pretty face as he squeezed your thigh. “I’m already touching you.” 

Your head shook, he knew perfectly well what you meant. He was just dead set on you voicing out your guilty pleasures. 

His hand retracted, leaving you to deal with the heat between your legs. “No?” Wisps of his hairs tickled your forehead as he leaned down to capture your lips. It was a soft loving kiss. “Flower, you are so pretty but so silent.” The back of his hand caressed your arm bringing your attention to him. It was entertaining to see you unravel. 

The loss of contact was unbearable. You sat up slightly, resting on your forearms to see Dabin kneeling in front of you. There was a dark glint in his eyes as if he had been waiting for you to look at him.

Dabin was waiting. He wanted you to see... to take in the sight of him between your legs. Before you could protest something new he gripped your thighs tightly and pulled you closer to the edge. There he began kissing up your legs tot he inside of your thighs. 

Your back arched lifting you completely off the bed at the new ticklish sensation. Always his fingers... never his tongue. It felt wrong and incredibly right. Fingers grasped at his soft locks of hair when he dared to dart his tongue out and taste your skin. “D-Dabin-” you gasped pushing him away when your hips grew a separate conscience and bucked closer into him. “Don’t...” you breathily exhaled.

He was eager to kiss your lower lips, to use his tongue to prod them open as he did the upper ones. But... “I will stop if that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t.

He knew it too. That’s why he didn’t budge from his position. Occupying his time by circling his thumbs around your hips were he held you. Waiting for your approval, he never broke eye contact. 

How could he make you change so much? Never before would you imagine yourself in such a position. A position where you were asking for embarrassing things to be done to you. If it was so embarrassing why did you like it? Because the reward was far greater. It was only embarrassing because it was new to you. You had answered your own question and in the process talked yourself into accepting your boyfriend's offer. “Don’t stop.”

Dabin smirked.

“Keep going... please.”

There was a sense of triumph as Dabin spread your legs wider. Without warning, he licked up the first of your honey that had dripped along the inside of your thighs. He was so close, the warmth of his breath had you shivering in anticipation.

Once he delved in your eyes shut, hands grabbed at the bedsheets underneath as you clung to your sanity. This was your body but it wasn’t listening to you. “Da-” words were hard to remember, even his name. It all became incoherent moans and sighs of satisfaction. 

Your body was now listening to Dabin... and he loved it. The power he had over you... Dabin literally had made you, his pretty little flower, bloom.

“I loved you Y/N.” Dabin laid back into his couch, one arm over the back cushions. He thought back to when he first met you. What drew him to you? “Your smile was so inviting, I got drawn in.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Why only now, over the phone did your Dabin seem to appear?

“I love you Y/N.”

IT became hard to breath. He was using the present tense of the word. A word you hardly heard from him in the final months of your relationship. Now he gave it to you. “Stop!”

The word seeped through Dabin’s bones. It brought a chill to his spine to hear how stern you were on ending the conversation. He had much more to say.

“I gotta go,” your eyes went to the door. On the other side you could hear Gray fumbling with the keys. It was too late to be explaining to your current boyfriend why your ex was on the phone with you.

Even if Gray was understanding, there was a limit. There was never a good excuse to be talking to an ex at such a late time of night.

Dabin cursed at the sound of the ended call. His mind was running wild with memories of you and him. What he wouldn’t do to have you there... at that moment. He realized how invested he had been in the beginning of your relationship and how HE was the one to lie and distance himself at the end.

Now he could only think of you in the arms of another man.

You were no longer his. The thought of Gray and you kept him up, turned him desperate enough to call you. He hoped you would come back to him but you were done begging him to take you.

-end-

A/N: Honestly the song makes no sense to me. Individual lines yes, but as an entity, it is broken. Still did my best ^^

#khh scenarios #dpr scenarios #dabin scenarios #hong dabin scenarios #khiphop scenarios #khh #dabin #hong dabin #dpr #dpr live scenarios #dpr live #dpr dabin #khiphop

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

His Sister (Stan)(Part 4)(final)

A/n: We’re gonna skip ahead to senior year, so they’ve been dating for almost two years now and are, like, 17 or 18. So, yay :) Also, yes, I’m faceclaiming Jessie Eisenberg for teenage Stan lmao enjoy. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3596

Anon: Pidge

MASTERLIST

The Losers’ senior year of high school was coming to a close and they were all graduating. Tensions were already high with stress and cramming and figuring out university situations, but then Bill and Mike started fighting. They couldn’t be together for long without bickering, which would only too soon lead to full blown arguments. Richie and Y/n, who were put on edge by yelling - especially so when Bill would shove Mike or Mike would get really up in Bill’s face and it was a miracle that Stan and Eddie were there to comfort the twins otherwise they would have completely lost it.

The arguing quickly drew a rift in the Losers Club, with people taking sides. No one thought anyone was especially right in any of the arguing, since it was clear they were both yelling just to yell, but it evened out that Ben and Mike ended on one side with everyone else on the other, just because the original five were very loyal to each other and had been through more together. Despite the current friendships they had, Y/n, Richie, Eddie, and Stan were closer to Bill than Mike. Ben just didn’t want Mike to be alone.

The breakup was almost a relief. Almost.

Mike pushed Ben away and the two went on their own for the last few months. Time seemed to be undoing itself, reverting all of them back into what they used to be before the summer none of them could remember. Mike started to remember things. Things he didn’t really want to, but couldn’t help thinking of. Feeling like an outcast again brought up memories of a summer that made him nauseous.

Ben, isolated and alone, started to have the same thing happened. Except instead of facing it he just became a womanizer, drowning his memories in alcohol and women, trying to block out the image of red hair and glittering green eyes and smile that made his heart flutter- a girl he didn’t want to remember and the summer when she had been apart of his life.

Bill began to push his friends away, becoming immersed in his writing instead of his art, creating gory horror stories and ignoring everyone outside of his paper world. And so it was down to four- Richie, Eddie, Stan, and Y/n- held together only by the fact that Eddie and Richie were dating, so were Y/n and Stan, and Y/n and Richie were siblings. Bonds that couldn’t be broken without ripping them completely in two.

After losing his best friends (especially Bill, who they always thought would be by their side), Stan was on edge to say the least. Scared of losing Y/n, which would also lead to losing Richie and Eddie as well. The idea of losing Y/n made him want to throw up.

Throughout the year, the four had applied to colleges, trying for a lot of the same ones so they wouldn’t be separated or too far apart.

Eddie went through his first, opening the six letters in his hand and quickly reading the beginnings out loud to his friends. “You got accepted into TWO?” Y/n gushed. “That gives you options!”

Richie leaned over, placing a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “That’s my boy.”

Blushing, Eddie pushed Richie away, but his grin gave him away. “Open yours, Trashmouth.”

Richie obeyed, obviously shaking as he opened his five letters. From the two he had coordinated with Eddie, Eddie had gotten into one of them, so he opened that one last. After getting into three (including the other one he and Eddie coordinated with each other), he opened the one letter he wanted a yes from.

His smile faded. “I didn’t get in.”

Eddie moved close, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Richie. We won’t be super far. We can visit and write letters and call and all the cheesy long distance stuff. We’ll have plenty of chances to make up for lost time.” Richie smiled and they kissed, Y/n giggling as Stan pretended to gag. “Okay your turn,” Eddie declared, leaning into Richie’s side as he motioned to Stan.

Stan went, revealing that he’d gotten into three out of the four colleges he’d applied for. Two of them were the ones he and Y/n were both aiming for, so he was happy with his results. He leaned over, leaving a chaste kiss on Y/n’s cheek. Over the last year he’d definitely changed significantly in how romantic and publicly lovey he was, but for the most part he was still pretty reserved unless alone with their friends two on two. “Your turn.”

Y/n grinned, pushing aside the two in her hand that Stan had gotten into. She had two chances. She hadn’t done as well as she’d wished in high school, getting hit with one of the worse cases of senioritis and biffing it hard. She was hoping that her turn around in the second semester would come through, after she had done a lot of work to counteract it with her friends’ help and had also done fairly well in school before this year. She was sure she’d at least gotten into ONE school, surely.

As she opened letters, though, her heart sunk into her toes. She’d applied to nine colleges- NINE- and seven of them hadn’t accepted. She held the two in her hand that she’d set aside, anxiety rising in her throat to choke her. “Guys what if I haven’t gotten into college at all?” She looked tot her friends, her eyes wide and terrified.

Richie’s hold on Eddie tightened but he hid his nervousness with a smile. He didn’t know what he would do if that happened, but he had to comfort his sister right now. “You’ll get one, Y/n. This is just the universe’s way of telling you that you and Stan were meant to never part.” He made kissy noises, successfully getting everyone to laugh and Stan and Y/n to blush.

Stan moved right up next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Come on,” he whispered. “Rip the bandaid off.”

So she did, tearing the two letters at the same time and taking out the first. She about threw up as she read out loud, “Thank you for sending your application in... blah blah blah... but we’re sorry to inform you... and so on.” Richie and Stan exchanged looks as Y/n pulled out the last letter with shaking hands. She held it without opening it or reading for a long time before she took a breath, her voice shaky as she opened it and started to read, blinking around her tears. This was important. She HAD to get into at least ONE college after all that work, right?! “Thanks for your application... mhm... yeah... I swear these colleges all have the same introduction like get original... we wish to inform you...” Her face became blank and her eyes widened, her body freezing.

“What?” Eddie snapped. “Did you get in?”

Stan scanned the paper quickly. “We wished to inform you that we- we accept your application and appreciate the hard work and dedication you showed. Wait, what?” He grew quiet. “Oh, one of your teachers sent a letter of recommendation to them!” He grinned. “Y/n you got in!”

“I got in,” she whispered.

The boys all jumped up, the letter still in Y/n’s hand as she began crying, all of them patting her on the back or ruffling her hair or shaking her gently by the shoulders, grins on their faces as they congratulated her. She finally snapped out of it, tears of relief falling down her face. “Oh don’t cry,” Eddie whimpered, pulling her into him.

“I’m just so happy,” she whispered. And soon they were all group hugging and giggling quietly, relieved at the wonderful outcomes of the night.

A few months later, they were all graduated and using the following summer to pack and plan for the next coming school year. Stan and Y/n were headed out together, Richie and Eddie on their own.

Richie wrapped his arm under Y/n’s head, locking her against his chest. “You better call me every weekend!” He threatened. “Or I might have to track you down and beat you and Stan the Man up both.” Stan laughed at the idea of Richie beating anyone up, Eddie muffling his amusement for the sake of his boyfriend’s pride. They were all hanging together for a last night in Derry meal and after Y/n had insisted that everyone better stay in contact, Richie had lashed out jokingly to tease her. And here they were.

Y/n’s hands weakly pawed at Richie’s arms. “HEY!” She interjected, her face screwing up even though he wasn’t really hurting her.

“Promise me!” He insisted.

She huffed, glaring at her best friend and boyfriend as they sat back and laughed, simply watching. “Fine!” She groaned. “I promise!” Richie cackled, rubbing his knuckles against the top of her head. “WHAT THE FUCK, RICHARD?” He finally let her go, laughing too hard to keep a hold on her. She shoved him and then Stan, who was still laughing. “You all suck ass!”

A few hours and enough teasing to last the time away they’d endure with the distance, the last standing Losers moved to the three cars in the parking lot of the diner, each one packed and ready for a long trip and a new life. They had a surprisingly small amount of stuff they wanted to take and save from the life they thought they were leaving behind forever, far too ready to leave and start over with only each other as a reminder of their old lives in the shitty town they all hated.

The Losers exchanged last hugs (even the boys did their dumbass bro hug considering how long they’d be apart) and Richie and Eddie kissed. “Call me when you get to your dorm,” Y/n told the two boys. “That way I’ll know you’re safe at the very least.” They nodded and then they all parted ways except Stan and Y/n who got in their car together.

The first months of uni were spent adjusting and finding new jobs as soon as possible and hitting it all headlong. It was better people-wise, but had more work that was harder. Stan and Y/n were living on campus for now, seeing each other mostly to study or go on their weekly date to catch up or vent or just spend time together. With everyone so busy between school and work and maintaining relationships, the calls from Richie and Eddie got less and less but Y/n knew that they were okay- just busy, like her.

Just as her and Stan were falling into a nice, comfortable routine, Y/n got a call from Richie. “Hey I was wondering if you guys wanted company for Christmas? I kind of don’t have a lot of friends here and no one else to visit so...”

Y/n covered the receiver end of the phone, turning to Stan to whisper, “It’s Richie.” The boy nodded, returning to his homework, leaving the twins to talk. “We would love to have you here!” Y/n said to her brother, smiling. “Are you bringing Eddie?”

There was a pause. “Uh... oh. I hadn’t told you?” Y/n’s smile faded. “The distance was too much for us- Eddie and I broke up.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Oh. I- I’m so sorry Rich.”

“It’s fine,” Richie covered quickly, moving on. “I’ve been busy with school, haven’t thought about it too much. You and Stan still together?”

Y/n smiled weakly. “We are. He’s here right now, want to say hi?” Stan looked up, a frown drawing on his face at Y/n’s bittersweet expression.

“Nah,” Richie hummed. “Tell him hi for me. I’ll head down the day before Christmas Eve and stay until after Christmas if that sounds good to you guys?”

“That sounds perfect,” Y/n managed, her heart suddenly heavy and sad, knowing how broken-hearted her brother was when he loved Eddie with all he had in him. “It’ll be so good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

Richie chuckled softly. “I’ve got months of teasing to make up for,” he joked weakly.

Y/n’s smile strengthened. “I look forward to it. See you in a few weeks.”

“See ya.”

The call ended. Y/n hung up the phone, moving to her spot at the kitchen table with a heavy sigh, her hand pulling through her hair. “What’s wrong?” Stan asked, putting his pencil down and turning his attention to his girlfriend.

Y/n frowned at the table. “Richie and Eddie broke up.” She pulled herself together as Stan let that process, falling part as she gathered her strengths. “And then there were three.” The joke was weak and neither of them smiled. “Come on, homework.”

The rest of the day they sat in silence, Y/n reaching over to touch Stan’s leg comfortingly when the dark mood settled longer than either of them at all wanted. Richie and Eddie were supposed to be the ones to make it. Despite everything and all odds, they were perfect and made for each other. After losing all of their friends and now the world’s best couple breaking up, it seemed the Losers were doomed to lose each other. Y/n didn’t know why Stan was so upset since she was only sad for her brother, but Stan got the horrible feeling that it was only a matter of time before he lost Y/n too.

When they finished, Y/n began packing her things. “I’ll see you later?” She asked, kissing Stan’s cheek. When he didn’t respond, she frowned.

“Actually,” he croaked out. “Could you stay?” He looked up at her and the anguish she saw in his eyes made her frown even more. He stood, pulling her close and kissing her passionately, their bodies flush together and his fingers smoothing over her waist, her hands in his hair on instinct. “Stay,” he mumbled against her lips after he softened the kiss.

She half smiled. “Of course, Stan. I’ll just borrow one of your shirts for tomorrow.” She chuckled, putting her bag back down on the chair she had sat in before. Stan was pleased. He stayed quiet as she moved to make dinner, seeing what they had before settling on spaghetti. Which only served to remind her of Eddie - and, inevitably, Richie and Eddie together - which made her sad all over again. But she sucked it up and started cooking. Stan came up behind her, his arms around her waist, pulling her into him from behind. His lips ghosted her neck and she smiled. “What’s up with you?” She asked, chuckling. “I would say you’re horny but you’re acting too timid right now for that. The last time you got shy about wanting to have sex with me was the first and the last time.” They both smiled at the memory as Y/n finished up dinner, turning off the stove and then facing Stan with a concerned expression. “What’s wrong, Lover Mine?”

Stan almost smiled at the nickname, his eyes scanning and taking her in as if it was the last time. “I’m sorry to worry you. I just...” his face twisted. “I don’t want to lose you. Like Bill lost Mike and Richie lost Eddie. Like how we miss all of our friends. I’ve been anxious about it since Bill and Mike broke up, but after losing everyone and now Eddie and Richie breaking up I just feel like the end is waiting around the corner. I want you here. With me. Close. I want you to know how much I love you. How much I want you. I just... I don’t want to lose you.”

Touched, Y/n gently cupped Stan’s face. “I love you so much, Stanley Uris.” She pulled him close gently, more guiding, until their foreheads touched. “You will not ever lose me unless you want to.”

“I never will,” he interrupted very seriously.

“Then I’m not going anywhere,” Y/n eased. “Ever. I’ll be right here by your side forever, Stan the Man.”

Stan smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Thing Two.”

They both laughed. “Oh god it’s been ages since we used those nicknames,” Y/n groaned.

Stan kissed her nose. “I like them. We should use them more often again.”

The girl nodded. “If you want.”

They parted to eat dinner, keeping conversation a constant stream with breaks of warm, comfortable silence. They cleaned the table together and then got ready for bed together, Stan hovering close to Y/n. She didn’t much mind, liking how close and gentle he was being after having to spend so often separated and busy and stressed and alone. They crawled in bed, cuddling up and falling asleep after a last kiss and exchanging whispered, sleepy ‘I love you’ declarations.

-

“Good morning!” Y/n declared toward her brother as she woke up Christmas morning. The last day had been spent decorating and reliving traditions, Y/n insisting on waiting until Richie was at the house to do it. They’d had loads of fun and then ended the day with Christmas movies and one present opened each, where Y/n brought presents for the boys specifically, insisting they open the one she gave them and save the rest for tomorrow. They were Christmas sweaters that fit each of the boys’ dorky quirks.

Richie’s was made with loud colors and crazy designs framing a snowman with sunglasses on and his middle finger up. Richie was still laughing for hours afterward.

Stan’s was warm and soft and simple, with his favorite bird on the front. It made him smile, prompting him to pull Y/n close for a sweet kiss. Both boys were wearing their sweaters that morning and it made Y/n’s mood sky rocket.

Richie smirked, looking between his sister and best friend. “It will be,” he finally responded, referencing Y/n’s bright greeting.

The twins looked at each other. “That was vague and slightly ominous,” Y/n edged. She looked at Stan. “What’s going on?”

Stan’s face gave nothing away. “Just Richie being a moron. Let’s open presents.” Trusting that it must be a present Stan had told Richie about, Y/n went along with it. They sorted the gifts and then began opening, going one by one in turns from oldest to youngest.

When all the presents were done, they put their new stuff away and joined up again in the living room. “Y/n?” Stan asked. She looked over. “There’s one more present I haven’t given you yet.” He held out a wrapped box that fit in his palm, his smile bright but closed lipped. Y/n looked at Richie but for once the Trashmouth was purposefully keeping his face blank so she wouldn’t know anything- that made her more nervous than anything else could ever have.

Richie took out a camera to record as she took the present, unwrapping the box. It was black and velvety which made her heart explode in her chest. What had Stan GOTTEN her and why was she so incredibly nervous?! When’s she opened it, she was confused. “It’s empty. You got me an empty box?”

Stan suddenly took a breath, reaching into his pocket and pulling out something small, holding it between his fingers. Y/n looked at Richie who was grinning like there was no tomorrow and then looked back at Stan just as he got down on one knee.

Face red and nervousness obvious, Stan held up the ring for Y/n to see. Her hands flew to her mouth, the box dropping to the floor. Richie snorted as Stan jumped and for a second Y/n thought she had ruined the moment before Stan collected himself and began talking. “Will you, Y/n Tozier, make me the happiest I’ll ever be and agree to marry me?” Y/n stared at him with pure shock, her hands and lips quivering as she tried to regain he composure. The silence stretched on and Stan looked at Richie, who nodded to him encouragingly. Stan stood, chuckling. “Thing Two? What do you say? Hm?”

She lowered her hands. “Oh my god Stan YES!”

A grin like none other Stan had worn before exploded on the boy’s face and he slipped the ring on Y/n’s finger before scooping her up and pulling her close, kissing her passionately.

Richie stopped recording, cheering and whooping and hollering.

There should have been more noise and commotion. In another world, Ben would have been squealing and Mike would have been laughing as Bill, Richie, and Eddie saw who could yell louder without sounding any less happy. Bev would have been crying, bouncing on her feet. Mike would have pulled Bill close, their eyes meeting and a promise for the future clear in their smiles. Bev would have kissed Ben’s cheek and Eddie and Richie would have flat out kissed each other right there, having to be pried apart for the betterment of everyone having to watch them, Y/n and Stan crying and laughing and surrounded by their friends that had long since been family. The Losers’ Club, all grown up and still together despite all the odds.

But this wasn’t a different world. This was their world. They had to settle for the short moment of bursting, sparking energy and Richie alone hooting and hollering and stomping his feet despite neighbors to make up for the silence around them. In the happy moment, they felt the absences of each friend- even the ones they’d forgotten like Ben and Beverly.

For now it wouldn’t bother them. It was Christmas and Stan and Y/n were engaged and that’s all that mattered. Just for tonight. Just for tonight.

#stan uris #stanley uris #2017 #IT #wyatt oleff #stan the man #imagine #imagines #x reader #this series #why am I enjoyin this so much #man #it has to end eventually #I’m stalling #for real #help #I love him so much #my tall boi #the bird boi #I’m so happy catch me crying it’s okay #teenage stan uris

[shadowsof-thenight]

Better together: part one of two

Summary: Three years ago he left. He walked out of Sarah's life and broke her heart in a million pieces. Now they are forced to work together again and she suddenly realises that three years did nothing to dull the pain, or her love.

Ships: Bucky X OC

Warnings: Violence, ptsd, domestic violence (sorta), injuries, angst, sadness

Words: 2006

Masterlist

Three years ago

Tears stream down her cheeks as she watched his retreating back. While she understood his reasons, she knew why he feels this in the best option, it hurt. More than she could possibly tell. She had pleaded with him, cried and screamed, wanting him to stay. Needing him to stay. Still he left.

It took all her willpower to keep from running after him, to fall down before him and begging one more time. She knew it would not work. He would not be convinced and change his mind.

Sarah was happy with the months she had gotten to share with Bucky, even though the ending broke her heart in a thousand pieces. Bucky never felt good enough, like he would never deserve her. And though she had tried her hardest, the feeling proved incessant, unwavering.

After four beautiful months filled with love, lust and happiness, he drew back. Nightmares once more taking over his nights. Sarah had tried to comfort him. Tried to sooth his fears. And for a moment it had seemed to work, until two days ago, when it all had changed.

As Bucky got caught up in another one of his nightmares, Sarah had scooted closer, wrapping her arms around him as she did most every night. However, this time it had triggered something in him and he snapped. Snaking his hands around her slender neck and crushing it, or attempting too anyway.

Sarah had tried to scream, she had hit him with her fists, kicked him with her legs. Trying to get him out of his trance, but nothing seemed to work. She had tried to grab her phone instead, wanting to call someone, anyone. As her hand reached for the phone on the night stand, he shook her, knocking the phone from the  small table, falling tot he ground. It was followed closely by a lamp.  

Tears streamed from her eyes as she thought that these were her last moments. Her vision blurry and slowly darkening, hoping Bucky would remember how much she had loved him. Even then she could not be angry with him. She could not blame him.

Thankfully for Sarah, Steve had heard the commotion from his room next door and barged in to pull Bucky off of her. Thank the heavens for his super soldier hearing.

Steve had punched Bucky, until his grip on her neck slacked and Steve could pull him from her entirely. Sarah had gasped for air as Steve pulled her from the room and into the kitchen. He had opened the freezer and pulled out a bag of peas to put on the already forming bruises. She took them from his hand and he quickly went to grab her a glass of water.

Tears were still streaming down her eyes as they stood in silence in the kitchen when she looked back to the bedroom. Bucky sat on the floor, leaning against the wall behind their bed. He was knocking his head into the wall, obviously still caught up in his trance. Sarah wasn't sure how long it took Bucky to snap out of it, but when he did he had been mortified by his actions. He had cried and screamed, he had punched hole in the wall as he was overcome with grief.

He had spend many hours crying and apologizing. Begging forgiveness, which she easily granted. But somehow it had not been enough for him. He could not forgive himself at all. He hated himself for what he had done.

And so with a final kiss he had announced his departure. Ending a relationship that had taken both of them  by surprise. One that had invigorated Sarah, given her hope of a beautiful future. And now it was over. Gone.

He was gone.

She stood in the doorway for a long time, thinking of what she would do next, before turning around and grabbing a suitcase.

Present day

Sarah took a deep breath as the quinjet was bringing her ever closer to the person she had not seen in many years. Three to be exact. She was incredibly anxious about facing him again and she could feel the eyes of her current partner trained on her, which did not help in the slightest.

Sarah snapped her head up to meet the eyes of Sharon with an icy glare. She could not handle her concern right now, it took up too much concentration to keep from falling apart. Sharon put up her hands defensively and moved to take a seat beside Sarah.

“I'm not even sure if he is there” she offered, trying to give hope and to ease Sarah's nerves. Sharon carter was a very talented woman, capable of many things, lying through her teeth to her partner not being one of them. Sarah chuckled as she gave her friend a pointed look.

“Sure, like he's be anywhere other than at Steve's side” Sarah grumbled and Sharon could only agree. One was never far from the other. Steve and Bucky had long ago proven to be a package deal.

Everyone knew that.

As happy as Sarah was to see Steve again, she dreaded facing his best friend. She had not seen either of them after Bucky had walked out the door of the room they shared in the compound in New York. The same compound they were now flying towards.

After Sarah had picked up the pieces of her broken heart, she had packed her bags. She requested a short leave to visit family, and then she wanted to be assigned to a new team. She had known that she had to get away from there. If she stayed it would have likely cost her her insanity. And she really needed that intact as a senior field agent.

Fury had teamed her up with the more grounded Sharon. A match made in heaven it turned out to be. Sharon's no nonsense attitude balanced well with Sarah's creative solutions during tense situations, it made for a very successful duo.

Sharon had also been a great friend while Sarah attempted to piece herself back together. Which she seemingly had only just accomplished when the order came to go to New York, to the avengers compound. Steve had requested help.

Sarah knew there was a compliment in there somewhere, that her team was chosen to help the avengers, but it was hard to bask in the glory. Since it also meant having to rip open old wounds. Wounds that had taken so very long to heal.

Wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, Sarah rolled her shoulders as she tried to ease the tension in them. Another deep breath in, exhaled slowly and she pursed her lips.

Time to put on her game face. It was only mere minutes before touchdown now. Sarah needed to mask her feelings. Nobody needed her as an emotional mess right now. She could release those after the mission was through. And she would.

Upon realising just how much he still impacted her, Sarah had quickly realised that she needed closure. He would just have to give it to her.

Once the mission was over and done with, she would just have to corner Bucky and force him to talk to her. He would have to tell her if he stopped loving her. When he had lost faith in them. Why he didn't think they could work through it together. She had loved him so much after only four months, how could he think that that love would not be enough?

***

Bruised and battered Sarah hastily climbed back onto the jet. She was in pain and she was dead tired. She was also more than a little worried.

The mission that they had been called in for had seemed to be a bust. And the group had been half way into their retreat when hostile agents had appeared out of nowhere, quickly surrounding them.

The group had been vastly outnumbered, but had still won out in the end. Barely so though. They had gotten separated, many were wounded, Sarah included. But she wasn’t concerned with that right now. Sarah was busy checking others, applying first aid to anyone that needed it. Suddenly glad to have worked alongside doctor Helen Cho more than once.

She put a splint on the leg of a very grumpy Natasha. Bandaged the badly burned arm of Sam and irrigated a wound on Clint's forehead; it would need stitches once they got back to the compound, but for now the small strips to pull the skin closed would have to do. As Sarah was moving on to check on Sharon, who seemed to be nursing a large head wound, Steve's screaming caught her attention.

Sarah turned towards the ramp just in time to see him come running at them, Tony following close behind. Steve was carrying a large form on his back and Sarah quickly realised that it could only be Bucky, the final member of their team.

For a heart stopping moment, Sarah thought he was dead, but as the trio finally climbed on the jet and Natasha was helped into the pilot seat by Clint, she noticed his chest was still moving.

“What happened?” Sharon's voice was soft but demanding as she took control of the situation the best she could. She was wobbly on her legs and grabbed her head as if it would help with the pounding. It gave Sarah a moments reprieve to find her bearings.

Steve gently put Bucky down on the floor of the jet and Sarah sprung into action, joined quickly by Clint.

“We were almost out, when a sniper shot him” Steve explained as he fussed over his friend. Sarah quickly removed Bucky's shirt and protective gear, his torso now naked, scanning him for a bullet hole.

“Six times!” She exclaimed as she counted the entry wounds. Quickly her and Clint started working on stopping the bleeding, while telling Steve to check Bucky's legs for other wounds.

“There are only five exit wounds,” Clint commented, “How long Nat?”

“Thirty minutes,” Natasha called back, her voice deep and gruff with the pain she was obviously feeling.  

“I hope that's fast enough”Sarah muttered as she pressed on the wounds. There were too many wounds and not enough hands. Once Steve had checked the rest of Bucky's body, she ordered him to press his hands on one of the wounds, waited for him to do so before moving on to examine the rest.

“He's losing a lot of blood” Steve's voice had lost it's authority as urgency and a hint of panic took over. Sarah looked up from her work and glanced at Steve. He was right to be worried. They were fighting the ticking of the clock with this. Bucky needed much more help than any of them could possibly give him, especially in this plane. None of them were trained for this. They only knew a little first aid.

Thirty minutes had never seemed as long as it did right now, while they fought to keep Bucky alive.

The colour was draining from his face and his skin was getting cold to the touch. They were all beginning to lose hope fast, when finally Natasha announced that they had to prepare for landing.

Steve told Sarah and Clint to take a seat wile braced himself, so he could make the landing as smooth as possible for his severely injured friend.

Sarah tried to argue with Steve, but upon seeing the look in his eyes, she knew it would be futile. She always had been able to read him relatively easy.

As soon as the jet touched down, Natasha opened the ramp and a medical team rushed in with a gurney to place Bucky on. Once they did, they hurried off to the nearest surgery room. leaving the rest of the team behind struggling with the aftermath of this failed mission.

Part two

This one was posted on A03 first, and I wasn’t sure i’d post it here....but now I did. Hope you like it!

#Better Together #MCUfanfiction #Bucky BarnesX Oc #bucky barnes

[blankdblank]

Roommates Pt 3

 Tags –

@himoverflowers

@theincaprincess

 ...

Summary of Part 2: Barrage of Deliveries while Richard is away for work, you get called in for extra shows, finally reunited with your Snuggle Buddy again.

…

Richard’ hands slid across your back gently curling you back into your former tightly wrapped cocoon, “You didn’t get much sleep when I was gone did you?”

You sighed against his chest, “Not all together, kept getting woken up, more like a few naps a day, you?”

His fingers running through a group of curls at the end of your hair gently, “Same, couldn’t really sleep on the plane ride home or the one to LA but I slept the way back to New York, which just sort of kicks you when you’re down for getting any sleep at all after bits and pieces, but I can’t imagine having to perform on stage after getting barely any sleep.”

“Oh you should have seen me when the kids were born, my brother called me the Dancing Zombie, fell asleep against the door to my dressing room after the final curtain call more than once, ended up having to have one of the younger dancers shadow me so they knew I got changed and back in my Brother’s car after the show.”

His arms tightened around your back again as he let out a long gust of hot air through his nose before kissing your forehead again, “I should let you get more sleep then.”

Your arms curled tighter around his sides, “No, I’m fine, just the relaxing helps, if I sleep anymore I’ll be in a mood when the show starts. I should warn you my sleep is a teeter-totter of chaos, too little I’m miserable, but if get too much everyone else pays, kind of ridiculous.” He starts chuckling, “But that’s just how I ended up being, I can usually force through it though for work or when I’m supposed to be ‘presentable’, but mostly I just mope around, unless there’s food involved then I’m good, usually food evens it all out. My Brother used to say he could tell how much sleep I got and what my mood was by what I ate.”

“I’m mostly the same, I’ve been told I’m a giant 6 year old by my Family countless times, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure out the food part together, I am glad you’re not the kind of woman who shies away from second helpings.”

You let out a giggle, “You have yet to see me with tater tots, I fill a punch bowl then dump chili and cheese on it and just throw back as much of it as I can when I’m exhausted. I really don’t get why people assume dancers don’t eat, I really can’t stop, usually I eat at least 7 times a day, might just be snacks here and there but I need to eat or I just turn into a terrible person.”

He let out a quick chuckle, “I wouldn’t mind 7 meals a day, we can keep each other in line, I’ll try to cook as much as I can for you then.”

“You don’t have to, if anything I suppose we could take turns, I do like cooking, just sometimes.”

“You can’t get out of bed?” Chuckling again.

“Exactly. I’m not crushing you am I?”

His arms curled around your back tighter again as he slid his legs around yours, “Not at all, comfy?”

“You have no idea how comfortable you are as a pillow.”

He chuckled again, “Neither do you. Have you ever been to Paris?”

You drew in a breath and let it out trying to guess where he was going with this question, “Few times, went on a tour with the London Ballet Company.”

His head tilted down to look at you, catching the soft glimmer of a car’ headlights reflecting in your eyes as the light filled the room then exited just as fast as it past your building, “You worked with the London Ballet Company?”

“Mhmm, 2 years before I moved out here, they needed a new lead and I’d just turned 18, I’m here most of the year then I spend 3 months in London for their Christmas season shows. Why Paris?”

“I have an event there…so you’re saying you’ve spent months in England for years?”

“Well I’ve spent years there actually, I was born there, got shipped back and forth between parents, Dad worked out here, Mom was from England, also a Ballet Dancer in the London Company, gradated early, got accepted into the best dance programs after, got hired at 16, I’ve been out here for, 6, years nearly.”

“So you’re out here on a visa?”

“Dual citizenship, me and the Family, though Jo got a promotion and is moving out there permanently soon, within a month or so, how much was the movers you used?”

“Not bad.” His smile grew, “So how is it I never saw you?”

You giggled, “Oh, well I saw you, we shopped at the same store, the one on the corner with that blue, what is it, I wanna say Dinosaur statue thing in the window.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, or at least throw a loaf of bread at me or something?”

You giggled, “Because you mostly weren’t alone, when that blonde wasn’t on your arm you were always getting approached, then there was that one time I saw you in those sweats with that yellow hat with that shirt with, um, who was it, not Aerosmith..”

He chuckled again, “Oh, The Def Leppard shirt, that was a gift from my Brother.”

You giggled again, “You looked furious, cold have sworn I heard you growl when you couldn’t find that bread you wanted.”

“Really, you know I thought the same, could have sworn I didn’t but when I got to the register it was in my basket.”

He glanced down at you as you giggled again, “It’s cuz I snuck up on you and put it there when you went to grab your peanut butter. Thought you had a hard enough day, and I really had a few slices left of my cinnamon raison left at home, so I could come back later.”

His eyes squinted down at you for a moment through the darkness, “That wasn’t the only time that happened.”

“Sort of turned into a bit of a game, wanted to see how many times I could manage it. 27 was the longest.”

He chuckled again rubbing his face, “And how long ago was this?”

“Hmm, I wanna say 3 years ago, right when I was leaving you started showing up with that brunette.”

“Green eyes?”

“Mhmm, with those amazing grey boots, I really wanted to ask her where she got those.”

He chuckled again, “That’s my Sister-In-Law, those boots where a gift, grabbed them for my Brother on a trip in Italy, Versace I think, supposedly for an anniversary gift but she found them early and wore them till they fell apart.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to check their website then to see how much to save up.”

He chuckled again, “I can get them for you if you like.”

“Oh now don’t go spoiling me, it gets very costly especially when shoes are involved, it’s best I get them myself or I get too greedy.”

“We’ll see. Still can’t get over the fact that we could have known each other for years now.” Smiling down at you, “So, Paris, did you want to go? It’s in a few weeks.”

“If you want me to.”

“It’s just for a movie premier, but it’s up to you, normally I just stay there for the night before and the night of then fly back but if you wanted we could turn it into a small holiday, see the city if you wanted, I could buy you some shoes.”

The slightly pleading tone in his voice triggered another set of giggles from you, “I suppose, though I am paying for my own shoes.”

He chuckled, “Not likely, I can be very convincing, and sneaky when I have to be. So how dressed up do I have to be for tonight?”

“Not very, blazer and some clean pants is what I normally see, though they really don’t care unless it’s something offensive or distracting for the dancers.”

“So exactly did you pack in all those boxes?”

Chuckling again, “Nearly everything I had, left the furniture though and the dishes, didn’t know what I’d need or want. I can sift through it if it’s..”

“Don’t worry about it, I just get a bit nosy when it comes to boxes.”

“You can help me unpack later if you’d like, so you can check it all.” Sliding his fingers through your hair to brush it out of your face, smiling as you leaned your head against his fingers with a content hum, drawing his hand back when he reached the ends of that section of hair to slide his fingers back through your hair again while you laid your head back down on his chest with a smile of your own.

“So when do you start your filming?”

“Final table read is tomorrow, we start the filming the next day.”

“If I’m distracting you from work..”

“You’re not, I’ve got it already up in my head, if I don’t relax before then, then I’m useless, you’re helping plenty.”

The sun started rising, your eyes opened to see the light starting to trickle into the room letting out another hum, “Guess we should be getting up soon, sun’s rising.”

“If you want, it’s up to you, I’m good here for as long as you like.”

You drew in a breath raising your arm resting your left hand on his chest, exhaling slowly as your fingers made gentle swirls in the patch of black hair across his pecs, “Are they gonna make you shave for this role?”

His smile grew, “Not that I’m aware of, haven’t gotten that far into the discussion yet, though I might have to shave my beard.”

Without thinking your fingers slid from his chest and brushed through his beard along his jaw, earning a rumbling chuckle as he raised his chin allowing you to continue, “What is it with these people and wanting you hairless.”

He chuckled again as your hand slowly slid back down his chest after combing along the other side of his jaw, “Not sure, though it does grow back extremely fast, so after if you want it back I’ll grow it back, I do enjoy having a beard.”

“It’s your face, and your hair, so it’s up to you.”

“Still.” His other hand now gently stroking your back, “If you like it I’ll grow it back.”

Staying in your warm cocoon for a bit longer before finally you grumbled as your stomach tightened again, “My turn to cook, want anything?”

His arms loosened as you slid off of his chest slowly, sitting at the edge of his side of the bed before standing, “Whatever you’re having will be fine.” Watching as you turned brushing your sweater back down, barely covering the tops of your yellow lace panties and heading for the door as his smile grew, taking a few deep breaths to try and relax himself before he got up and followed you, pulling on his sweater from the night before and joined you in the kitchen. 

Eyeing the large stacks of boxes again as he passed through them finding you pulling out the cinnamon raisin bread and cream cheese to spread across it with a package of fresh strawberries, Richard smirked grabbing the fruit and started slicing the green tops off of them filling a bowl before adding a few oranges that he peeled as you finished the large stack of sandwiches before returning the rest of the loaf and cream cheese. He filled two glasses with juice and grabbed the tray leading the way to your new couch, “Let’s test the new couch.” Smiling at you as you giggled up at him, before leading the way, curling your leg under you as you sat while he set the tray down on the table that he scooted closer to the couch, “I like the carpet. Did we pick this?”

Popping a strawberry in your mouth with a small smile as he sat down beside you laying his legs out along the large cushioned footrest, “No, I had it before, it was just rolled up in the spare room from the last couch arrangement, I’m glad it was big enough.”

He grabbed a strawberry of his own after accepting the sandwich you’d offered while you chose a channel, settling on a daytime courtroom drama, chuckling through it as you finished your 2nd breakfast, before cleaning up and he lifted you into his arms to carry you back through a fit of giggles to curl up again on the couch, settling you between his legs so he could curl around you, watching for another few episodes before you pulled out of his arms, “Alright, I gotta know what’s in the boxes.”

He laughed while he stood up, shifting the Tv stand so you could watch still, then led you by the hand to start unpacking, “As you wish.” Breaking the tape on the first box and letting you help him choose spots for everything, pausing on the boxes for a few minutes to adjust where his desk was in his room before unpacking the box from his desk back home as you unpacked his clothes and started hanging them up in his closet, “Any specific order you want these in?”

He glanced at you, standing on your toes hanging his suit jackets on the tallest rack you could reach, eyeing your figure as you did with a smirk, however you want, I usually just like my Jackets together, everything else is up to you.”

When he’d finally reached the bottom of the box for his desk supplies he turned as you let out a squeaking gasp, his eyes scanning for what could have brought on the reaction until he recognized the long box you’d opened letting out a breathy chuckle as he stood hearing you mumble, “You did not bring this!!”

He reached the box grabbing the fur covered vest from his Thorin Costume that was wrapped around his gifted Orcrist, lifting the sword free and sliding the vest over your shoulders smiling at your happy squeak as he curled you into a hug, “And if I did?”

“I am warning you now you may not get this back.”

He chuckled giving you a peck on the cheek, pulling back to pull your hair free from under the heavy vest eyeing you adoringly, “It does look good on you, I may not want it back.” His hand slid to the hilt of Orcrist unsheathing it carefully as he took a few steps back from you before stepping back to let you examine it, “Want to hold it” Your eyes meeting his as he held it level turning the hilt to you with a smile that grew as you timidly slid your hand around the hilt as he moved to be behind you, giving you a few tips on how to hold it properly before taking it back from you to show you a trick that he said took him the longest to learn, one of his swirling slices, “It was the spinning footwork between that threw me off .” Sheathing Orcrist again and glancing around for a place to put it, “Mind if I put It in the Library?”

You shook your head, “Not at all.”

He chuckled again leaving you alone stroking the fur on the vest before carefully sliding out of it and hanging it up in his closet before you made good on your threat to keep it, spotting him return to help you finish the box, showing you the large deep blue shirt with embroidered Dwarf Runes he’d gotten from his Hobbit days as well. Slowly clearing through his clothes and shoes before heading back to the living room to make another dent in the large amount of boxes, soon enough finding homes for nearly everything until you reached a box that triggered another squeak, “You have a top hat?”

Gently lifting it out as he chuckled again, “From North & South.” He glanced around again spotting the tall bare wooden coat rack in the small Library with a smirk and adding it to the large wooden ball on the top, pulling his hands back as he inspected it making sure it didn’t fall over, “I think that is the perfect place for it.”

“Don’t know why but makes me think of Sherlock Holmes style of Library now.”

He chuckled returning to join you again, “It sort of does, massive sword and a top hat, it’s really stating something from that era, now we just need a mother of pearl handled pistol on display or something.”

He caught your smirk, “Got one, well it’s a replica, but it’s on the top shelf by the small globe.”

Glancing back into the room with another smirk, “Wonder how I missed that.”

Your smile grew again as you went back to unpacking, finding his family photos next triggering a wave of stories about them as you placed them on the empty shelves along the wall before heading to help him make his bed with the sheets they were wrapped in. As you reached lunch you’d only had the movie and book boxes left, you both took a quick shower, with you taking the first turn and him taking the second before he started lunch while eyeing you from the kitchen as you did your warm ups through your continued conversations about your families and pausing to eat before heading back to your stretches.

..

When the time got closer to your show he headed into his room to choose an outfit, coming out with black pants with a blue jacket and a white button down shirt, bright red socks poking out on his feet as he adjusted the laces on his dress shoes, giving you a smirk when he saw you head out of your room in a pale green dress that hugged your torso before hanging loose around your hips down to your knees. His smile grew as you crossed the room and it swayed around you, turning and moving your hair, “Could you..”

A soft chuckle escaped him as he fastened the last button down the center of the back before adjusting the crisscrossed straps laying across your shoulders, he waited until you turned to say, “Simply breathtaking.”

Earning a giggle and a hidden eye roll as you turned to sit on the arm of the couch to pull on your green converse over your sheer thigh highs making his smile grow as he watched you tie them, “You look very Charming yourself Mr Armitage.” Shooting him a wink as you switched your legs hearing him chuckle.

“So, dinner or dessert after?”

“Not sure yet, but don’t worry, I got a pair of heels for after the show, just can’t wear them before.”

“Even if you can’t wear them after you still look incredible.”

You smirked up at him before your face straightened, “Oh if anyone offers you an invitation to a wine tasting after don’t accept, it never ends well, especially if Henri is throwing it. Last time the director nearly got pushed out a third story window, and everything you say and do will be in the papers the next morning.”

He nodded, “Good to know, how did you learn that?”

“First one after I turned 21 got invited, had to dislocate Heri’s shoulder when he wouldn’t back off after downing three bottles, I’m not really a wine person anyway but even I know you’re not supposed to chug it, you do that sip and spit thing. Which really, with a $500 bottle of wine I get the not wanting to waste it but there’s a limit.”

You stood straightening your dress catching his tensed muscles, walking over you rested your hands on his middle looking up at him, your closeness drawing another smile from him, “Don’t worry, it hasn’t happened since and he’s been the definition of a gentleman, even before then, it was just the tree bottles of wine, didn’t even know he was interested in women at all before that.”

Richard’s smile grew, “Alright, just let me know if anything else like that happens again.”

“Not sure if it ever could, they keep telling all the Men about what I did to Henri’s shoulder, he’s really got no muscle to keep it in place so it really was rather easy..” Your eyes meeting his as your sentence broke off noting his larger smile at your rambling.

“I’m listening.” Smirking as you quickly grabbed your bag and headed to the door, turning off the lights, locking it behind you both as you continued your ramble all the way to your car.

…

His eyes stayed on you through the drive as you led the conversation, loving the chance to see you get lost so easily in your passionate descriptions of some of your stories from your last tour, his eyes eventually drifting away after catching the massive banner with your image on it, retrieving his phone and snapping a picture of it before turning back to see your smiling at him until the light changed, “You should see the main lobby, there’s an entire hall full of photos from our shows. I can show you after if you want.”

He nodded as his nerves spiked, “Definitely.” Somehow even though he would merely be watching from the audience his pulse rose as his nerves did, eager to see another side of you, seeing you perform wanting to see exactly just how you’d earned your place on the massive banner out front along with the lead, even at last minute as a replacement, how they had sealed the trust in you so completely that you could just jump into the role.

While parking you’d spotted his nervous shifting, “You alright?”

He smiled over at you, “Ya, just excited, haven’t been to see this show yet, and seeing you perform, I’ve only seen Swan Lake out in London with my Mum, sort of a tradition each Christmas. There was this one dancer..” His eyes catching your smile, “You performed that show didn’t you?”

You giggled closing your door walking around the car with your bags, “Most likely, I do it every Christmas.” Curling your arm around his as he let out another chuckle.

“I’ll have to ask My Mum if she still has the copies of the posters from the shows.”

You glanced up at him with another giggle as he opened the door for you both, “Just relax. It’s not that bad of a show, finally have a partner that has yet to drop me.”

He chuckled again as you led him through the back hallways and into the empty dressing rooms, his smile growing as he followed you into yours dropping your back as Mr Tallus arrived with a smile, “You’re early.”

You smirked over at him, “Well I had to make sure Richard got to his seat on time.”

He chuckled shaking Richard’s hand, “George, huge fan.”

“Richard. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Excited to see her perform?”

Richard let out a breathy chuckle, “Apparently I already have, back in London during her Christmas performances.”

“Oh yes, her Swan Lake, she really just vanishes in that part. Well this one you’ll be able to see her clearly, one of the best Juliet’s we’ve had in a while.” He turned to you, “We should let her get ready and I’ll show you to your seat.”

Richard nodded giving you a small wave as he turned to follow the short man as he strode out to lead the way starting another story as he did, leaving you smiling as you started getting ready, his heart still racing as he tried his best to focus on the stories he was being told following his steps to his seat as everyone else was filing in. Reaching the small balcony seat he spotted a few groups of people catching sight of him and attempting to sneak photos of him. “Now don’t worry, the only other people in this section are going to be some of our former principal dancers who are backing our shows, they shouldn’t bother you, they’re used to being ogled at, here.” Passing him the book for the show that night, his smile grew as he spotted your name on it. “One of the new copies with the switched names.”

“Thank you.” Watching as George left, turning back forward relaxing in his seat as he looked over the small book, eyeing the pictures of you in your part with a small smirk before silencing his phone as the other 5 people arrived to take their seats around him, each introducing themselves before asking who he’d come to see, triggering a small wave of shock at him being the first person you’d invited to watch you perform. Chatting back and forth with them enjoying their stories about you in your various roles and tours until the show was about to start, each turning eagerly to watch as the curtain rose.

..

As the first dancers stepped out to start the show Richard felt his eyes lock on the stage, as his eyes found you taking your starting position his smile grew, trailing each of your movements and emotions flowing freely from you through the silent piece, the steady pounding of his heart matching the beat of the music you danced to. Doing his best not to flinch through your three kisses shared with your partner before slipping back into his smile again at your next lift, eying how fluidly you could go from having your leg straight up behind you en point before switching into another set of spins and another lift where you seemed to melt back against him as he held you in the air. Joining the rest of the crowd as they stood to applaud the whole cast for each of the curtain calls, glancing at each of the former dancers around him as they asked him what he thought about the show, catching your last bow before the curtain dropped again and George had come to grab him again.

.

Showing him back to a small room just outside them where the reporters, photographers and other former dancers, choreographers and celebrities had gathered to wait for the cast, each trickling out as the groups rotated around him to each get a chance to talk to him until you found your way out to the crowded room, slipping through posing for a few pictures before finding your place at Richard’s side. His eyes scanning over you again with a beaming smile as you nodded your head slightly to the side, his hand sliding around your upper back grabbing your larger bag from you as you led him to a smaller room along the main lobby with all the portraits and photos from the various shows and dancers. “You were incredible tonight.”

You glanced up at him with a smile, “Glad you enjoyed it.”

“How, um, How long have you been partnered with your Romeo?”

You giggled stopping at the first photo, “Few years.” You pointed at the large photo, “Me, Leo, my Romeo, and Raul, his partner, we all started around the same time.”

His eyes scanning over the photo leaning closer with a smirk, “You haven’t changed much.”

You playfully nudged his side with your elbow, “I’ll have you know I’ve grown nearly a foot and 2 cup sizes since then, besides, they wanted me as a blonde when I started, luckily that didn’t last long.”

He chuckled, “I prefer the dark hair on you.” He straightened up as you led him to the next picture, “Your feet don’t hurt?” Noticing the pale green tall heels you had put on.

“No, these are one of my more comfortable pairs.”

“Heard some interesting stories about you up in the balcony. You’ve really made an impression on all of them.”

Your eyes squinted up at him, “Not the one about the raccoon I hope.”

He smirked down at you, “No, but now I have to hear that one, spill.”

You let out a giggle rolling your eyes before showing him the next photo seeing the small crowd headed your way from the other room, “I’ll tell you later, looks like they found us.”

Both turning to the group as they joined you with smiles being pulled into a lengthy round of conversations and group photos before finally managing to slide your fingers between Richards and sneak him out of the building as they started to come up with plans for a follow up dinner, giggling at his smirk while he tightened his grip on your hand. Passing through a crowd of the people from the audience waving at the few who snapped photos of you as you both left, he raised your hand to kiss the back of your hand before releasing it once you finally reached your car, both walking to your doors and climbing in, “So, dinner or dessert?”

“Both.” Catching his smile as you started the car, “Called a friend, got him to keep his back room in restaurant open.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I helped him meet his Wife, he said I can get a table whenever I want.”

“Sounds good, so, raccoon story?”

He smirked at you triggering another set of giggles, “Fine..”

…

Through the dinner he kept his eyes locked on you with a smile, both enjoying the dinner and the dessert after through your turns at telling stories from you travels, paying the bill and heading back home through the small crowd of photographers waiting for you at both locations, parking and heading inside as he kept his hand fixed on your upper back until you’d gotten into the elevator where you’d leaned against his side while he curled his arm tighter around you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Tired?”

You glanced up at him with a tired smile, “Sort of, though we can see if there’s something on if you wanted, unless you have to sleep for work tomorrow.”

He chuckled, “We can watch something.” Walking through the doors as they opened, to your apartment, walking inside after unlocking the door, he locked it behind you watching you with a smile as he headed to his room to take off his jacket and shoes before joining you on the couch after you’d removed your shoes and sliding off your sheer thigh highs adding them to your clothes basket. Walking over to you he sat down beside you dragging the foot rest in front of you curling his arm around your back pulling you to rest against his side pulling your blanket over your legs as you flipped through the ten channels you had settling on That Hamilton Woman, an old black and white film you both loved, his eyes falling to your legs, “Your legs sore?”

“I’m fine.” His arm slid from behind you pulling away from your side turning you sideways and pulling your legs into his lap, smirking as he started rubbing your feet and up your legs. His warm hands gently sliding across the skin on your legs as his eyes darted between your legs and eyes, “What?”

Giggling as his eyes met yours again shaking his head, “Just, how do you get your skin so soft, back in school the dancers I knew felt like they had scales on their feet.”

You giggled again, “Takes a lot of effort, but, they’re part of my livelihood, have to take care of them, and I can’t stand having rough skin.”

He smirked meeting your eyes again, “Mine isn’t too rough is it?”

“Not sure about your feet but the rest of you doesn’t seem very rough.”

“Even my hands? They’ve been kind of rough lately.”

You smiled up at him, “I like your hands, they feel fine.”

“If that changes let me know.”

“If they get that bad I’ll be chasing you with a pumice stone.” Making him let out a loud laugh.

“I will not let it get that bad. Though it would be interesting to see.”

Turning you gently back into his side after he’d finished, curling his arms around you as you finished the movie, while the credits ended he glanced down at you after you’d ignored his question of what you should watch next, smiling as he saw you asleep against his chest, grabbing the remote he shut off the Tv before tossing it away, lifting you against his chest and carrying you to bed. Settling you down under the covers and plugging in our phones before stripping and sliding in beside you after shutting off the lights, laying on his side and smiling as you snuggled against his chest curling your legs around his pulling him letting him curl around you tightly after kissing your forehead.

..

The sun rose gently lighting the room around you both, Richard turned releasing you to grab his phone seeing a message from his manager saying he’d sent a car to the apartment, he let out a sigh pressing another kiss to your forehead as he slid out of bed, grabbing a change of clothes from his room before using your shower, drying off, brushing his teeth, fixing his hair and beard, adding cologne and deodorant, then redressing, tossing his clothes in your clothes basket before making a small breakfast for himself and writing you a note leaving it under your phone. Giving you another quick kiss and making sure you were fully covered after laying his present he’d brought from England on the bed beside you, having pulled it out of the box of movies he remembered he’d hidden it inside, before heading out to the car waiting downstairs.

.

All through his table read his mind kept heading back to you, easing through his parts, taking as many notes as he could while trying to get to know a bit about his female co-star he’d have to share a love scene with, fighting his mind’s urge to walk away and head back home to you, every inch of her, each movement, word and action from her so different from you. 

Sure she was beautiful and guys would be mad not to want to be with her but one massive flaw kept stabbing into his chest as they grew closer to the day he’d have to film the love scenes, she wasn’t you, only increased by the fact that you still hadn’t kissed. 

Each inch of him burning with the urge to just pull you close to him and kiss you until you both were left in a breathless heap on your bed, wanting nothing more than to kiss each and every inch of your soft skin, claim you as his, but he had to wait, be patient, do this properly, he’d already jumped more than a few steps by moving in so soon but after learning he’d had the chance to be with you years ago he could barely hold himself back wishing to just set it all in stone.

The meeting ended with him being asked to lunch with a group of the new cast, accepting a ride from one of them, being crammed in beside his new leading lady, trying his best to keep his distance through the meal while trying to be polite and getting to know more about them all as a group of photographers showed up to snap some pictures of the new cast. 

Eventually making his way back through the subway after taking a cab as far as it would go, heading up to the elevator after passing through the group of photographers outside your building, pulling out his phone when it chimed. His social network pages lighting up with pictures of him and his new costar, his pulse racing at the few angles insinuating he’d been on a date with her, rushing back into your apartment in half a panic hoping you hadn’t seen the news.

.

His eyes landing on you with a large smile as you danced around the kitchen to the music on your laptop as you cooked lunch for yourself in a large blue sweater with small shorts under and matching long socks, quietly closing and relocking the door and slipping out of his shoes before joining you. Gently curling his fingers in yours as you spun earning a giggle from you as he twirled you around and started dancing with you, claiming your other hand as well while you waited on your food to finish cooking, “How did your first day go?”

He smiled down at you, “It went alright, got a lunch after. Did you get my gift?”

“I saw the box, wasn’t sure if you wanted me to open it when you were gone or not.”

“Thought you got nosy with boxes.” Spinning you again

You let out a giggle, “Which is why I’m cooking, so I won’t look in it.”

He let out a laugh, “And the dancing?”

“I like this song, and I had to kill time while I waited for the stir fry to cook.” His eyes darted to the pot as you pulled closer to check on it. “Mmm, looks done.” Taking it off the burner after shutting the burner off, pulling the lid off and serving a helping into a bowl, covering and leaving the pot on a cool burner, shutting off the music as Richard slipped into the bedroom grabbing your present and meeting you on the couch with a smile as held the large box. 

You let out a giggle as you settled down beside him setting your bowl and glass of juice on the table in front of the couch turning to face him and accepting the box from him.

“Before you say anything, yes, I had to get it for you.”

You squinted your eyes at him for a moment as he let out a quick chuckle shooting you a large smile as his eyes sparkled at you while your cheeks heated up as your eyes fell to the box untying the ribbon before taking off the lid, “That eye sparkling thing really isn’t helping.”

He chuckled again, “Eye sparkling thing?” Watching as your eyes widened and your lips parted as you let out an excited squeak.

Whispering, “You didn’t.”

His smile grew watching you lift the grey white and black striped fake fur blanket out of the box, “I did, you like it?”

You stood lifting the massive blanket, curling it around you before crashing into his chest as he let out a loud laugh as you hugged him tightly, “I love it, thank you.”

He curled his arms around you tightly still laughing, “I’m glad.” Smiling as you snuggled against his chest, brushing your hair out of your face, “So, this eye sparkling thing?”

You let out a muffled giggle against his chest, “I don’t believe you’ve never heard that before.”

“Not from you.” Chuckling again pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “You should eat. You’ll have to warm up for work again soon enough.”

You reluctantly pulled back after giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “Thank you again,” pulling back and lowering the blanket around your waist grabbing your food and starting to eat as he filled you in on his first day and what his costars are like while he gently rubbed your legs, his smile locked on his face after your kissing his cheek. “So, any dating rumors yet?” Shooting him a smirk and seeing his muscles tensing.

He let out a nervous chuckle as his eyes fell to your legs, “Um, sort of, from our lunch earlier.”

You let out a giggle, “What’s that look for?”

His eyes met yours, “I um..”

You nudged him gently in the stomach with one of your feet forcing a chuckle out of him, “You can talk about it, come on I’m sure an attractive guy like you can’t order coffee without being reported as madly in love with the barista.”

He chuckled again, “It was lunch.” Pulling out his phone to show you the links, “Apparently we’re madly in love already, while others say I’m cheating on you with her.”

You mocked a gasp clasping your hand to your chest making him laugh, “It’s barely been a week, and tired of me already!!”

“Not a chance. After all, she spreads mustard on her sandwiches.”

You giggled, “Oh, major, major red flag right there.” Taking a drink from your juice as he laughed again.

He helped you clean up after you’d finished eating and rejoined you in the living room as you started your warm-ups continuing his story about his day even helping you stretch your legs after you asked, to help loosen your hips. “You’re still free for Paris?” Carefully gripping your lower leg as you straightened it, dropping backwards against your other leg, gently curling your hands around his leg to hold yourself steady as your back popped.

“Yup.” Pulling back up and switching your legs as his smile grew before bending back again, “What should I pack for?”

His hands slowly adjusting lower on your leg with one gripping your hip to help you rotate it feeling the stiffness in it, “Just, whatever your comfortable in, plus a, um, nice dress, I suppose, I was wondering if you’d wanted to got to the premier with me.” Leaning forward to catch your gaze as you straightened up again, noticing his nervous expression while keeping his grip on your leg.

“It’s not a horror flick is it?”

He smirked at you, “No, one of those romantic comedy ones.”

“Sounds like fun.”

He chuckled, “Good.” His eyes dropping back to your leg in his hands quickly releasing it, “Right.” Nervously chuckling as you giggled at his expression before lowering yourself for a split slowly, “Picked any spots to visit yet?”

His eyes darting from your legs to your face as you looked up at him, “Not yet, though thee is this one set of gardens I saw the last time I was there, they have these lights that just..” Sighing as his eyes met yours again, “I’d have to show you.”

You smiled up at him, “I look forward to it.”

He sat down in front of you with a smirk, “If I can’t do the eye sparkling with you, you can’t either.”

Another giggle escaped you, “I doubt my eyes sparkle.”

He smirked leaning closer dropping his voice to a rumbling whisper, “They really do.” Making you nearly melt at the sound of it, doing your best to hold in your nervous squeak. 

His pulse racing realizing how close he’d really gotten to your face, his eyes dropping to your lips when his fingers gently slid along your jawline, leaning in closer to you and closing his eyes as your lips gently pressed against his before pulling back. 

A breathy chuckle escaped him while he brushed his nose against yours as his hand cupped your cheek before pressing a kiss to your lips then quickly breaking apart as your door shot open and three small children came running in screaming, “Auntie!!” While their Father walked in after them eyeing the new furniture with a smirk before greeting Richard, you got wrapped in a large hug by the children before they pulled back walking in small circles as the youngest looked at you with wide eyes, “Where’d all this come from?” Leaning closer to you whispering, “Did you rob a bank?!”

You giggled as your oldest niece tried to get into the splits beside you, “No, it’s Richard’s stuff, he bought them.”

Your Nephew turned to Richard with a large smile eyeing him curiously, “What happened to your hair? I thought Dwarves didn’t cut their hair!”

Richard chuckled leaning closer, “Well, can you keep a secret?”

The small boy nodded, “I’ve been sent here on a secret mission by Gandalf, so I have to blend in, but he left our clones back in Erebor to tend to things while we’re gone.”

His eyes went wider, dropping to a whisper, “I promise I won’t tell.”

Richard smiled at him, “I knew I could trust you.”

The small boy climbed on the couch behind you grabbing the remote and turning on the Tv as his baby sister joined him saying, “What’s with the sticks on the Tv?”

Your brother chuckled, “That’s how we used to get the shows sent to our Tv sets.” He looked at you, “I guess the satellite people haven’t showed up yet.”

“Nope, Possibly tomorrow.”

He smirked glancing between you two switching to thick Russian, “So I take it we interrupted something?”

Richard raised an eyebrow at you with a small smile while you replied, “Sort of.”

He chuckled joining the kids as the youngest cried out, “There’s only 9 channels.” Triggering a round of laughter from you three adults, your smile grew as the oldest copied you when you stood to stretch your arms and your toes, Richard turned to lean against the couch in front of the two children keeping his eyes on you with a smile and turning as Jo asked him, “So how’s your new movie going?”

Richard smiled up at him, “Did the first table read today, filming starts tomorrow.”

He glanced back seeing you help give tips to your niece about the toe stretches as Jo said, “Speak any other languages?”

Richard glanced back, “Mostly French, bits and pieces of Italian.”

Jo nodded with a smirk, “I’m sure Jaqi could give you a few lessons if you wanted, both of us combined we have most of them covered.”

Richard, “Possibly, I heard you’re moving to England.”

Jo nodded, “Yup, should take possibly a week with the move, hope you don’t mind us borrowing Jaqi.”

Richard held his smile in place even though he didn’t want to let you go anywhere, “Well I still have the number for the movers I used, they got it all here within days if that would help.”

Jo, “Sounds good, the place really does look good, I am glad she’ll have someone to make sure she doesn’t fall asleep in the elevator after work.”

Richard chuckled, “I will keep an eye out for that with her now.”

Jo, “So you’re out here for a year?”

Richard, “Yes, hopefully filming won’t get stretched out too much longer.”

Jo, “Then you’re heading back to England?”

Richard smiled up at him, “My next job will have me in there for a few months after that, I’m not disappearing after if that’s your concern, we’ll get it all sorted before anything concrete happens.”

Jo, “Good to hear, besides, I have a good idea she’s planning on moving back after her contract’s up next year. Wants to be near the kids, I’m sure she’ll be burning up her days off flying back to visit whenever she can.”

Richard, “I’m sure she will, I know I’ll be flying back when I can to visit my Nephew, he’s almost in school now.”

Jo smirked, “I guess we’ll be seeing the both of you then for visits.” He looked at his oldest daughter, “She’ll be missing Jaqi the most I’m guessing, wants to be just like her, she’s really jumped up to fill the spot when my ex took off.”

Richard, “That must have been rough.”

Jo let out a sigh, “It’s what happened after she took off that really hurt, all of us. She mention it yet?”

Richard, “No.”

Jo nodded, “I’ll leave it to her then, when she’s ready to.” Turning to look back at you and your niece as you led her through her posture and bar exercises along the wall. Your lesson pausing as the intercom buzzed loudly and you walked to the door, muttering, “Honestly I’d prefer a rooster crowing or an air horn to that.”

Jo chuckled, “I thought pots banging might be good.”

You giggled glancing back to him, “Or possibly bagpipes.”

Richard, “I vote bagpipes.”

Smiling at you before you turned reaching the box along the wall, hitting the button, “Who is it?”

“_ Satelite Company.”

“Top floor.” Hitting the button to buzz them in and waiting until they knocked at the door.

Their eyes scanning the large apartment landing on Richard as they reached the Tv area, smiling at the children as they started to hook up the satellite, relieved that your last setup was mostly intact, they just needed to add another dish on your small balcony and plug it all up to the Tv before doing the basic setup as the children climbed over their shoulders to pick the channel they used to do the screen tests on before eventually gaining full control of the remote after they each thanked the two men who set it up as you signed the paperwork before they left giving nods to Richard as they left. 

You grabbed a small bowl of fruit to snack on curling up beside Richard sharing the fruit with him and the children while the oldest curled up in your lap grabbing some of the fruit you’d brought, snuggling against his arm until you had to get ready for your show, leaving the fruit with the children when you stood to head to your room. 

Grabbing your jeans as you pulled out of your shorts and bouncing into the tight denim pants before choosing your shoes, turning to find Richard quietly slipping into the open doorway smiling at you while he crossed the floor, curling you into a quick hug before leaning down to kiss you only to be stopped by a soft gasp coming from the doorway. You both looked to the doorway to find your oldest niece covering her eyes earning a giggle from you as Richard laughed, pulling free from his arms you walked over pulling her up to your hip kissing her cheek, “Come to hug me before my show?”

She lowered her hands nodding her head and glancing between Richard and you then whispering in broken French, “You had kissing him?!”

You held back your giggle whispering back, “Yes.”

“But, wedding?”

Your giggle broke free and you switched to English, “You don’t have to be married to kiss someone, but it is best if you really, really care for them.”

She looked over at him as he leaned against the dresser along the wall smiling over at you both, “He is pretty. You’re keeping him?”

Turning to you again as you smiled at her kissing her on the nose making her giggle, “I’m keeping him, and yes he is very handsome.”

She giggled at you again, “Alright, you two kiss then.” Kissing your nose as you let out a giggle before setting her down watching as she scurried back into the living room, turning back to Richard seeing he’d stood and headed back to you again, meeting back with you sliding his hand around your hip as he leaned down to kiss you cupping you cheek, your lips barely touching as the little girl cried out, “They’re kissing.” Triggering another set of laughs from both of you leaving you resting your head against his bouncing chest as he curled around you before whispering, “I suppose it can wait till after you get back.”

You giggled again glancing up at him wagging your finger at him making his smile grow watching you stand on your toes while he leaned down, gently kissing you again before you pulled away again as more tiny feet were heard coming to check on you, sitting along the edge of the bed to pull on and tie your shoes. Two heads peeked in the room before your nephew ran over to you leaning down grabbing your shoe laces swatting away your hands, holding out his tongue as he fumbled your laces into a four eared rabbit knot, raising his eyebrows at his own final result before attempting it again on your other shoe as the youngest girl climbed on the large bed with the help of Richard saying, “Wow, it’s so big, you even got a new bed!!”

Richard chuckled, “Well she needed one.”

Chuckling as the little girl laid out on the large piles of blankets, “It’s so soft. I want a bed like this when I’m bigger.”

You turned back to her, “You will little Darling, just remember don’t you go growing too fast.”

“I remember, I promised.”

After your shoes were tied you stood lifting your Nephew to kiss his cheek and hugged him before filling your pockets and grabbed your bag giving Richard another hug and a kiss on the cheek before hugging and pecking your brother on the cheek before escorting your family back downstairs to tuck them in to bed leaving Richard to relax stretching out on the couch with a large smile letting out a chuckle as his mind ran back to your first kiss before mentally planning out your first trip to Paris together.

Pt 4

#Richard x Reader #Hobbit #lotr #Richard Armitage x Reader OC

[undermycitadel]

The Hollow Living Room

Summary: “If you do xreader requests, can I request one where Mick meets the reader, a young American heiress, and is low key crushing on her but she is wary of his intentions. So he writes her a song.”

Pairing: Mick Jaggerxwhoever

Word Count: 3,054

A/N: God bless your patience, and enjoy.

And I still remember her well from that dull and tedious day. The glaze in the air was warm and damp, perhaps a rain had fallen the night before, and the hot air was soaking up the dewdrops in the grass. In the prime of the room where the blinds let in enough light to shed shine into the entire room. I could see the dust floating midair apart from my cigarette smoke in the light that poured through the scarcely parted blinds. The hardwood was an ash color and brought me back to my cigarette’s draw every time I went to take a puff but was cool unlike it, yet, as unwelcoming as such. And the walls were still fresh with paint. A walnut oil mixture of white we painted over the yellowed worn in white from the house’s previous owner. Other decorations were hardly acceptable for what I thought my guest deserved; dark baroque fireplace, long glass coffee table atop a long fur rug, a embroidered couch, again, blessed with great length, and two wooden chairs opposite the couch embroidered with texture. Was I supposed to have shipped mountains of furniture, fixtures, and fittings the moment I bought it or was I to foresee the visitor days before her arrival to prepare as best I saw I should? I should have, should I have? Because I was the one who invited her, however, I did not she would, understanding her social class versus mine.

I woke up earlier than usual. Once every blue moon, when the Fall made everything chilly, my alarm clock would sneak around my schedule and wake me with its unrelenting clashing of two metals but I would somehow wake before it and stammer to deactivate the alarm before ever ruining my mood. But three-thirty seven was a far cry from six-thirty, so what was I to do in my spare three hours before the day starts for every person around me? My tired gait pulled me past the light switch of my bedroom, through the narrow hall, over ice-wooded floorboards, down the metal stepped staircase that felt like hours of stairs, and to the hollow living room. There, over my lack of furnishing lay a packet of ground beans to last two servings. Coffee. I made a cup with the warm water of the tap. I brought it with me to the couch in the living room where I could barely see the cup in front of my face. Luckily I had the sense to light the gladly working fireplace pre-supplied with wood fit for burning. From there, it was a bunch of sitting. Sitting and waiting for three hours to pass. There were no clocks around. I hadn’t bought any yet but I knew that around six that the sun said hello, so I would wait for the sunlight to replace the need for the fireplace.

I went back to bed after the coffee and was rather disappointed by its false advertisement on the packaging. “’Guaranteed to wake your eyes’,” I remembered the packaging’s claim after waking up four hours later. “’Guaranteed’ my ass,” I grumbled, wiping the sleep from my eyes. My fingers raked my itchy top and laced easily through the tangles near the ends of my hair almost overdue for a trim. Had my fringe pass my lips, I would have tended to them the moment I noticed, but to the media, it was a very ‘rock and roll style’. Whatever that meant. In the way of my peripheral lay a stack of crumbled neatly folded papers and notes. There were others as well, such as boxes taped tenderly, bubble wrap over unpackaged items of the miscellaneous category that could have easily peaked my interest as to what stood underneath the coating but another odd paper stood out. I rubbed my eyes a final time before breaking the bed to pick up the paper and remember when I’d jotted whatever on it. I couldn’t comprehend why I wrote down with a scratchy pen the telephone number of a girl named Jolie. I thought nothing of it, even scrunched my face over the responsibility of another slip of paper with the phone number belonging to a girl I would not remember in two weeks. Figuring it was another part of the job, I crumbled the paper up and tossed it aside anywhere on the floor before climbing back onto my space in the bed. My lack of clothing, that being underwear, was compensated by the thick blanket on the mattress. It felt like the pressures of everything was away. The remaining drowsiness was massaging my shoulders, and for a while, I felt good. Then I remembered where she came from and was jolted from a sudden sleep. I couldn’t explain why my heart was racing but I felt an urge of fear. That feeling drew me to my knees on the hardwood where I looked through nothingness to retrieve the paper. Once the slip was in my possession I rushed to press and flatten it so I could read out the entire name.

The number became more familiar as I read and reread it over again in my head. “760-588-8633,” I read aloud. My eyes tread up the paper a bit and I followed suit with the name that was causing me the utmost stress. “Jolie Quar-Quar, what the fuck? Qurratul Ann- Ayn?” My hopelessness was close to pathetic. Besides the first name, the only other part of the entirely too long name was the surname; Preity. Realization overpowered by drowsy, eventually clearing a path for some train of thought. It came clear. Preity, she was, and pretty, was she. I remembered at once her Preity-ness from our most recent encounter, almost one week past this morning. I went back deeper, father to remember that month we’d first met eyes. But I couldn’t. Pulling back to deeper concentration, I pulled my knees under my chin and held them together with the glue that was my overlapping arms. In that fetal position, although comfortable, was doing nothing for my memory. I set aside the paper and rose from the bed, because what good would it do me to hold onto something I was probably too in over my head to reconcile with? A number of occasions of which this happened were far too often. Girls came and went, most of them were often basic looking girls with undeveloped blossoms for their age. Jolie is like all the rest, I thought, trying to convince myself before I fell into the trap was I warned about many times by my dear friends and apparent  ‘experts at the game’. I wouldn’t allow myself the strain of another Chrissy Shrimpton. The day already commenced, and I was past it, or, I had to be past it because past my foggy remembrance of Jolie’s distant features, I did remember the date of my studio sessions that were to take place less than two hours from now. I raised my arms over my head and stretched them over my head until I felt the satisfying pop of my joints. If I had the sense to throw out the paper, I would have. But unfortunately, I was too stubborn to let go the mystery that was Jolie, But I could only go so far.

The day wouldn’t wait for me to remember the woman from whenever before that morning, so I pushed aside my hesitation and took care of my hygiene ritual. I had to lump it for a cold shower because no phone calls had been made yet, brush my teeth with peroxide because ‘where were my things?’, and wait for my hair to air dry and get poofy because that’s just how it came to be. Somewhere in a box marked ‘Snazz’, I plucked out my outfit. I chose a gray turtleneck, khaki trousers, and my puffy coat for the walk to the studio not far at all from where I lived. My only concern was not getting pneumonia from the few blocks I would pass and the terribly strong wind raping the air, I slipped on my shoes, and the slip of paper into my pocket before leaving. I would be sure to ask my mates if they had any recollection of her to spare.

We had great fun that day. I remember because not an ounce of work had been done. We were not in a hurry to record, no deadlines were needed to be matched. For once we had free time to do what we pleased. Practicing covers were the easiest, as you may tell because there was little to no thinking involved. Sure a bit of pizazz and a little change to your vocals were necessary so you wouldn’t be considered a poser, but that time was much too far into the future to worry about, I could have gotten drunk and made a mistake but instead, I wanted to pick the brains of my companions. Jolie was burning a hole in my pocket, practically begging the question, ‘Who am I?’ I was resting easily on a foam padded rolling chair by the mixing tables, tempted by the important looking buttons that lay scattered on the surface. To the left of me was the door that enclosed the recording area that I often locked myself in to get just the right sound or record mimicking vocals of Little Richard, and one time, record Andrew’s Blues. Not a soul passed by there that day, Not even to light a joint in privacy. And to my right was a very narrow Keith Richards. He was not occupied, rather, he stood at the replica platinum albums on the wall just staring. Staring at nothing but the thin layer of dust overtop the faux vinyl. There was no point in waiting, then, we were due for another seven hour day, and so I popped the question.

“Keith,” I established my ethos, “c’mere for a bit,”

He stayed fixed to the wall for a while, and I began tot think he’d dodged my attention entirely at his lack thereof, but not to my dismay, he came eventually, sporting an easy smirk. Obviously, he’d partaken in the grass that had been passed around. And about the only thing fun about the boring day was the herb. “What man?” he asked, extending his vowels. “I was just checking out that paint dry. Fucking fantastic,” he held up an ‘okay,’ gesture with his hand calloused from the day before. I knew his tolerance was high enough for me to pick his brain. So I did with as much care as a friend desperately seeking out information.

I groped inside my pocket for the paper and held it before his eyes. He blinked one time, then another, then pulled my hand closer into his peripheral, his hand nearly scraping mine clear to blood. “Hmm…,” he ingested the name and number, probably remembering where he’d seen it before. “…I think…isn’t this…Jolie?” ‘Duh,’ I wanted to say but refrained. It was good, though. He was onto something, and it was good. So I let it be.

“Yeah, but, but do you know where you know her from? You have a good memory. Sure you can bring up a date.”

“Hmm… From what I can recall, we met the bird last week at that fucking art auction or whatever the fuck it was Robert Fraser hosted.” I waited for him to continue but he stopped as if the bit of information he told was all he had memorized. He looked satisfied with his answer.

“…and?” I beckoned my hand in my lap.

“…and?” he mimicked.

“Do you by any chance remember how-” I plucked the paper, “this fell into my possession?”

“How could I forget it? That party was a gas.”

“Tell me about the girl, then. I could care less about the bloody party.”

Keith shifted his weight after taking the paper in his palm. And he told me the story, of which I had no recollection of ever being present in the fictional tale of how I supposedly met Jolie. The day would not last forever, and though I could definitely waste the day in the studio, it was too much of a bore for me to stay past due. I walked home. And it wasn’t until fifty-seven steps in the direction of my house that I was caught dead in my tracks. In the center of the concrete tile, I stood paralyzed with realization. Suddenly it was all clear to me, the picture, the number, the girl, everything was vivid in my head and once again, I knew.

She was at the art auction and I’d spotted her. it was the second floor of the venue where the sculptures and such were poised for our viewing pleasures. In her hand was a sparkling cider, and on her body was a cream colored silky opulent wrap dress. Her features were dewy and soft and the lips I saw painted the purest red drew me in. I acknowledged my own attractiveness and knew she would be open to talking to me. I was no stranger to the crowdś reactions at our performances. Iḿ a ladies man, and if the trait is something out of manipulation then you are not a very good one. I was the manipulator, the operator behind the grand scheme of my image. Every move was calculated, every word carefully placed, and every glance was littered with the boyish charm that would come to sexualize me later.

I followed her to the balcony where I found her looking quite dramatically out into the night stars. She turned around almost as my first foot made a tap onto the marble. I didn’t expect for her to speak. She may have walked away in embarrassment and I would have been okay with that, but for some odd reason, she had the audacity to give me the time of day. Her hands move from her front, interlocked, to the ledge of the balcony, smoothing over the surface. “Hi,” she said. And like a breath of fresh air, her voice fed me. “Aren’t you that Jagger fellow I’ve been hearing on the radio so often?”

“In the flesh… And who might you be?” I invited myself further beyond the golden arches of the doorway for an easy conversation with the pretty thing.

“You haven’t heard of my family?” she asked, raising a brow. “Obviously I must show my face more often,” she sprouted a grin with her lips full of collegian. By then, word went like a revolving door about my pump kissers, and hers were well over mine in size. The thought came where she may have come from, as I never saw the average groupie with lips as vivacious as hers. But then again, she was no groupie, but apparently of an importance by her word.

“I can’t say that I have. What may I know them by?”

“Um…” she swirled her tongue in her mouth, “have you heard of Frank Lloyd Wright?”

Dumbfounded, I said, “no.” Luckily, she didn’t mind.

“He was a famous architect and created a bunch of them. My mom married his son and was drew into a fortune. I don’t know how it works, honestly, but I’m not exactly supposed to worry about that right now.”

“How old are you?”

“Just turned twenty-two.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“I should know that by now. My littler sisters are actually obsessed with you.”

“Really?” I didn’t care. Only about her, and wanted nothing more than to hear her.

“Yeah, I don’t see why, though.” The tease in her soubrette voice was enjoyable despite the playful puncture in my side. Still, I didn’t want a dry conversation.

“Why is that?” I continued with the questioning.

“Oh, please. Don’t be so coy, Mick.” Jolie dipped her head back to laugh. “You’ve grown a bit of a reputation for yourself there.”

“Oh please,” I mirrored, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But I did. I was no stranger to the media, as she probably was no stranger to chunks of change in the purse of her mother. But anything to on the talk. “What harm would it do for you to be my girl?”

Her eyes widened. Taken aback was she, and folded were her arms. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you! Do you know what that could do to my family’s reputation? To meddle with yours? I’m sorry Jagger, but I already know your intentions.” And I have to say, those beautiful words stuck to me. And as she handed me the slip of paper out of mid-air, she whispered another phrase that once I remembered burned through me. “Call me when you’ve got your act together.”

Many nights I spent since then awake, thinking of a way to redeem myself. I had no form of talent besides music and business talk with older Americans, and I knew my verbal skills would lead me to no avail. Instead of talking her into being with me I opted for what paid the bills and the space for the venues some nights. I would write to her from my heart a song from what I thought of her. What little I knew of her, I wrote carefully, skillfully on an ink blotted notepad. Many times I restarted in order to get it perfect and left it untitled, for I did not know how to spell her last name and did not think of peeking at the paper to copy it down. When I was satisfied with my poem, I phoned her to invite her for a cup of tea. I did not tell her of my intentions, although she may have assumed so as the night of our first meeting, however, I was not fibbing about the promise of tea and flowing conversation. That is if I could clear my mind of doubt and grit. And once that day came, I sat in my bare living room to meet her once again. To prove to her that I was not some bloke with a sly smile and bad boy moves. Because that was a strict rule. The one I was never to ignore until after our final goodbye.

#request #mick jagger #mick jagger oneshot #mick jagger imagine #Rolling Stones #the rolling stones #the rolling stones one shot #rolling stones imagine #the rolling stones imagine #the rolling stones fan fiction #the rolling stone one shot #keith richards one shot #keith richards #keith richards imagine #mick jagger one shot #mickjagger #classic rock imagines #classic rock smut #classic rock fandom #classic rock #classicrock #classic rock imagine

[dreamboydongmyeong]

50 questions (?) tag

ya girl cant read

tagged by @parkseonghwa luv u joo

yknow anyone i tag has probs already been tagged so MOOTS IF U SEE THIS AND WANNA DO IT DO IT

1. What takes up too much of your time?

school....

2. What makes your day better?

hmmm..it depends on the day! we have these little food delivery robots on campus and ordering from them is really cute (they say hi!) so that brightens my day lately! but lots of little things like ateez and friends and flowers!

3. What’s the best thing that happened you today?

i drew a lot and im proud of it kinda (’:

4. What fictional place would you like to go?

right now im super reobsessed with Lord of the rings so ill say the Shire!

5. Are you good at giving advice?

only for very oddly specific things..

6. Do you have any mental illness?

not that i know of!

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis?

nope but some freaky stuff has happened while im like half asleep

8. What musician inspired you the most?

billie joe armstrong! hes been my dad my inspiration sinc like...2010? ish?

9. Have you ever fallen in love?

oh yes

10. What’s your dream date?

something outdoorsy! even if its like walking by a lake or something i like exploring and it gives you an excuse to talk!

11. What do others notice about you?

that im weird when i get stressed i mess with my eyebrow so part of it is often missing and people notice that a lot

12. What is the annoying habit you have?

i TALK TOO MUCHHHH

13. Do you still talk to your first love?

we comment on each other’s tweets sometimes

14. How many ex’s do you have?

officially 3 but more like...6...lol

15. How many songs are on your playlist?

my current main playlist has 149 babey

16. What instruments can you play?

get this: i can make instrument songs with my mouth sometimes

17. Who do you have the most pictures of?

myself tbh IM THE WORST but like me n my friends

18. Where would you like to go before you die?

JAPAN!! IVE ALWAYS WNATED TO GO TO JAPAN

19. What is your zodiac?

scorpio babeyyy

20. Do you relate to it?

HELL YEAH I DO

21. What is happiness to you?

this is gonna sound real cringey but like...happiness is temporary so honestly true happiness for me is being in a place in life where i find it easy to make my own happiness, and that happiness can be in the little things (like having coffee cake) or the big things

22. Are you going through anything right now?

yeah its this uh thing called life its short but also terribly and insufferably long (thank u jenna marbles for the wonderful quote)

23. What’s the worst decision you’ve ever made?

kinda basing my life around  a person who couldn’t give less of a shit /: but im NOT ANYMORE YAY

24. What’s your favorite store?

rOSS i love ross

25. What’s your opinion on abortion?

im for it dude

26. Do you keep a bucket list?

theres one or two big things ive said i wanna do in life but honestly whatever sounds cool and fun :D

27. Do you have a favorite album at the moment?

billie eilish’s ‘when we all fall asleep where do we go?”

28. What do you want for your birthday?

money ive got big expenses in my future beeches

29. What are most peoples first impressions of you?

people think im quiet?? and honestly i think thats it...OH they think im a bitch usually too bc i have the worst resting bitch face

30. What age do you seem according to most people?

physically? like 16/17. mentally? like 23

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping?

on the nightstand woo woo

32. What word do you say the most?

“i” i like tot alk about myself a  lot its a problem i guess

33. What’s the oldest age you would date?

i really dont think much older than 22 bc i ahd a 23 year old briefly and it was just...too much of a gap

34. What’s the youngest age you would date?

18 i guess but even then the maturity differences /: so 19

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you?

something smart like doctor but honestly i think accounting is a pretty good fit

36. What’s your favorite music genre?

pOp

37. If you could live in any country in the world where would it be?

japan :3

38. What is your current favorite song?

okay im back on the billie bullshit but liek... bury a friend snaps

39. How long have you had this blog for?

when did ateez debut? 5 months?

40. What are you excited for?

the warm weather! and for classes to be done for summer (but i dont wanna leave this apartment S:)

41. Are you a better talker or listener?

im great at talking but it doesnt mean people agree lmao

42. What is the last productive thing you did?

i made dinner does that count NO I PUT AWAY LAUNDRY THATS IT

43. What do you want for Christmas?

again, and i cannot stress this enough: money (and snacks)

44. What class do you get the best grades in?

ZUMBA LMAOOO

45. On a scale from 1-10, how are you feeling right now?

5 i guess? like it could be worse but it could be better

46. What can you see yourself doing in 10 years?

what makes you think i can count that high (probably have a family and work from home babey)

47. When did you get your first heart break?

my first reallly strong one was freshman year

48. At what age do you want to get married?

whatever age im at when i meet the right person and get to know them for a while (as a kid i always said 26...lol)

49. What career did you want to have as a child?

a geologist! i liked pretty rocks

50. What do you crave now?

the warm weather and a break from life

#tagged #wow im dramatic #we love that

[solipsisticsocializer-blog]

Because I know no one reads my tumblr, here’s a short story I just finished.

If Only For a Little While

There was an uproar in the cafeteria on the last day of term.  All the kids that didn't have rides from their parents were forced to sit and wait in the cafeteria until the buses arrived. Kids punched each other's fists in frightening games of Bloody Knuckles behind our teacher, Mrs. Comstock's, back.     I sat on the corner of the lunch table, slowly gnawing away at my warm pizza. I was sat next to Travis Cook, the closest thing to a friend I had.  He was a lanky, awkward sort, with crooked teeth jutting out of his mouth like blades. Travis was dressed in a t-shirt with hole at the shoulder and grass stained jeans which I imagined were once blue. Our relationship was built on mutual defense. Travis and I silently agreed that there was strength in numbers, and as the primary outcasts of the school, we needed as many numbers as we could muster.    "You doing okay, Travis?" I asked.    "Yeah. Just don't know what to do for summer. What you gonna do, Daniel?"  he asked, smacking his lips together like a tired dog as he scarfed down his undercooked tater tots.    "I dunno . . . "      "Yeah. Gonna be weird going to middle school. The kids there seem so . . .  intense."    "Yeah."    I would find out a few weeks into middle school that Travis's family had unceremoniously moved out of state during the summer.    The bell rung and I grabbed my back pack, running full-speed to the overheated bus. I leaned my head on the streaky window, staring blankly at the passing cars. The ride was not a bad one, though I was somewhat unnerved by my fellow passengers jumping from seat to seat to flick each other's ears. I was jostled by elbows and ribs as I sulked my way off the bus. I felt a small privilege in that I only lived a few houses down from where  the bus stopped, making the torturous trip to my doorstep a brief one.      I stood in front of my house, considering the mess waiting inside that I'd be required to clean. The stack of filthy dishes and sacks of trash, typically of peripheral concern, was boiling my blood and placing my nerves on edge. I was immediately moved to walk away, secure in the knowledge that my mother wouldn't be home until well past sunset. No, this was to be a carefree day, responsibilities and anxieties to be pushed back and kept at bay, if only for a few hours.   I walked around the neighborhood, malaise weighing heavy on my shoulders. The people crossing me on the sidewalk sent my skin crawling, as I could see the terror they were capable of, some more than others. I saw their stupid faces hanging slack, their obnoxious laughter carrying far. I shuffled ahead, angrily considering that the dunces that lined the streets were strutting around with the confidence that they'd robbed from people like me, over years of torment and beration. They plucked our agency and passion from us and now they were using the them to tell awful jokes and carry on like idiots. I began grinding my teeth in resentment.    Seething with hatred, I walked over to the playground, noticing that it was sparsely if at all occupied. I quickly skimmed the rules of the playground which had been etched  an eroding wooden post and walked through the green-fenced entrance. My eyes popped open and my head sprung upwards as I saw the paradise of the empty swing set. I ran full speed to the empty swing, my noodle arms flailing spasmodically. Feeling positively electric, I plopped onto one of the swings and flung myself up into the air, dunking back down to the ground dramatically over and over again. I touched the sky and thought of how pleasant the next few months of summer would be. I would be rid of the pressures of school, free to roam around my house and voraciously watch whatever junk was slung onto the Saturday morning cartoon circuit.      My joy dissolved when I noticed a gang of neighbor kids flooding the park, dripping in menace as they walked through. I tried in vain to ignore them, my eyes wandering to the side to ensure that they weren't going to come near me. I tried convincing myself that they meant no harm, that I was once again overreacting to the mundane sight of people. I remained unconvinced, however, as they enroached further and planted their tattered tennis shoes in the swing set area. I blanked my expressions, trying hard not to appear antagonistic. Their appearance suggested a great deal of neglect, plaque coating their yellow teeth and grease dripping from their jet black mops of hair. They adopted screw faces, sneering like I'd just tossed a bottle at them. They were each a varying degree of skinny, ranging from scrawny to gaunt. They formed a sloppy arrow of sorts, in the middle of which was the king of the pack, the rest of the kids looking to him for the next move. They bristled with aggression,  eyeing me like a kettle of vultures to fresh roadkill. I anxiously continued to swing, attempting to ignore them. The leader pulled out a slender stick from behind his back and smacked it softly into his palm, as if readying it for use. He drew closer, the already shoddy formation falling apart. He stepped in front of me, raising the stick close to his face. I stopped swinging.  "Hey . . . " I began, before my mouth ran dry. My palms clammed up when he drew uncomfortably close, our foreheads kissing.      "Hey?" The leader laughed, which reverbed amongst his cronies. "Hey. Hey. Hey, whatcha doin' on or swing, faggot?"    His simpleton gaze shot through me like a bullet, his goons spectating and jeering as if viewing a blood match. Frightened, I felt compelled to feign a bravado, gritting my teeth and furrowing my brow, expecting everyone to recoil when they saw the potential for danger in me. Conversely, they began laughing more heartily, seeing through my facade. They didn't see the vicious scowl, the stern face, or the furrowed brow. They saw only my trembling hands, my fluttering eyelids, and my quivering lips. The leader  backed up slightly, relieving me. He then slapped me hard across my cheek.    "The fuck? I asked you why you's on our swing. Why you on it?" A small growl bellowed from the bottom of his throat, effortless.    "Not your swing . . . " I muttered, looking down. One of the other boys drew closer, anxious to see harm done to me and apparently dissatisfied with the protracted methods of torture.    "Fuck face, we's asking a question!" The other boy gripped my face as I screamed, the fat of my cheeks grinding against my teeth.  "Fuck off our swing!"    "It's not your swing . . . " I mumbled. The leader grabbed his friend's shoulder and pulled him back. The leader turned to me, a wicked grin on his face.      "He ain't even swinging!" one of them called.    "Yeah, Ricky! Not even swinging!" another cried.    "Why you on our swing, y'ain't e'en swinging?" Ricky asked.    "It doesn't have your name on it!" I yelled. It was one of many phrases I was used to hearing in school when someone would take something from me. It seemed to be a solid phrase as I couldn't personally contest it, and they would often abscond with whatever they'd taken with impunity.  I was delighted to use it myself, though Ricky and his gang seemed to take no heed of it.    "It doesn't what?" he asked, cupping his ear as a gesture to get me to repeat myself. As I opened my mouth, he swung and hit me with an open hand across my head. I fell to the ground, screaming in pain. I felt around and was mildly relieved that blood wasn't drawn. I looked up to see my assailant towering over me like a skyscraper, his friends circling around me. They lightly tapped me with the tip of their boots, rubbing the bottoms grooves abrasively on any exposed skin they saw. The leader grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me up, my face covered in a mess of tears and mucus. He cocked a fist and I recoiled in fear, which elicited a wider smile.   "Two for flinching, cocksucker." His face was stern as he gripped my collar to slap me twice, the pressure tearing the shirt.      "You'd better get!" one of them called, pointing upwards at nothing in particular.    "This our park, faggot."    "Dumb motherfucker," Ricky remarked. I ran off, my hot well of tears burning my red, stinging cheeks. Their laughter rang in my ears as I hopped the fence into the neighboring woods. I looked around and saw that I was alone, which came as a massive comfort. I sat down, knees to chest and gripped my ankles and I screamed. I screamed for the endless string of torments I'd endured. I screamed because I was too weak to put up a fight. I screamed for the power I'd so willingly provided my assaulters. And when my throat grew parched, I rasped out a slew of silent shrieks until I felt positive I'd die of exhaustion. I then felt a small prod at my shoulder, and I reflexively jumped back. Looking up, I saw a friendly face on a young girl wearing a perriwinkle blue dress which fluttered wildly in the wind.  She seemed to be harboring curiosity rather than malice as she tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing me.    "Hi," she began in a soft, reassuring voice. "How ya doing?"    "I'm good," I muttered, lifting myself warily off the ground.    "Don't seem too good," she whispered. I sheepishly averted my eyes to the ground.  She extended a hand which wavered somewhat as she brought it closer to me. I gingerly accepted her hand and softly shook it, grinning. "I'm Elizabeth."    "It's very nice to meet you, Elizabeth," I replied, my gaze still directed at the ground.    "What's your name?"    "My name? Oh, uh . . . D- Daniel. I'm Daniel."    "It's nice to meet you Daniel. You know, you was raising some hell just now. Coulda heard you hollerin' a mile away. That's . . . that's how my Grandma puts it. When someone's carryin' on. 'Raising hell.'" She looked carefully over her shoulder, turning back to me with bug-eyes. "You make sure you don't let it slip I'm out here? Grandma thinks I'm tending to the yard."    "Oh. Uh, yeah. I just . . .  isn't she gonna realize you're gone?"    "Grandma's sick. Don't leave the room much."    "Oh, my Grandma's . . .  not around anymore."    "I'm sorry to hear that." She wrung her hands nervously, unsure of how to proceed.    "Where're you from?"    "Up the road, by Sandalwood."    "I'm by Sandalwood, too. Never saw you at my school."    "I'm home taught. Momma teaches me and my sister, Katherine."    "That's gotta be so cool. Guess you don't leave the house much, though. Huh? You don't really leave the house?"    "I was just about to ask you the same thing, way you asking all these questions. Got manners like you was raised in a barn." She bitterly pursed her lips and stared daggers at me. I shook my head, embarrassed.    "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that. Ya know?"    "No, I know. Just saying is all."  Without a word, she grabbed my hand, her smile from ear to ear like someone had carved it. "So, you wanna go for a walk?" I nodded silently, comforted by a friendly presence amidst the chaos of the day. We went along, observing the clouds and their shapes. Elizabeth confided that one of her favorite activities had been to peer from her window during lazy days, rearranging the clouds in her head to act out scenes from a narrative she'd crafted; I foolishly added that I also thought clouds were neat.     We made our way back to the playground, where I was pleased to discover that the scuzzy tyrants from earlier no longer held sway over the area, likely abandoning it soon after I left. Elizabeth ran to the empty basketball court, snatching a stray chunk of blue chalk. She crudely etched out a few squares for a game of hopscotch. We hopped around, giggling like mad. We passed the time well, playing leap-frog and patty-cake, irrepressible smiles smacked on our faces. Looking at Elizabeth, I considered that she was the only person I'd seen in quite some time that didn't fill me with dread or uncertainty. She was bereft of any ill will and, for some reason, that pierced my heart with sorrow. Perhaps it was the thought of darker days looming around the corner, or the fact that the memory of this day would soon be lost in a sea of other days. I abruptly stopped playing our game and sat dejected on one of the squares. Elizabeth's expression swiftly shifted from playful to quizzical as she knelt down to meet my eyes.     "What's wrong, Daniel?" she asked.  I shifted somewhat.     "I dunno . . . "     "Is it cause you're getting beat?" she bluntly questioned. I looked up at her, unblinking.     "What?"       "I could tell you're getting roughed up. You got a fresh scar on your neck . . . " I dragged my index finger slowly across my neck, wincing as I touched a stinging bump on my throat. She was right.     "I dunno . . .  just thinking, I guess."     "I'm sorry you're getting beat up, Daniel. It's rough, I know. My grandma . . .  she gets me if I don't do my chores. Gets me and Katherine if we're acting up, hollerin' . . ."     "Your Grandmother hits you?"       "Only if we're acting out, screaming and all."     "I'm so sorry . . . " I exhaled and focused my attention on the mundane features of my haggard nails, rims of dirt on my cuticles. Elizabeth sat down and we held hands, hers being somewhat clammy.     "It's all okay. It won't always be like this, ya know." Elizabeth had a twinkle in her eyes as she forced a smile.     "How d'ya mean?"     "I'll move out one day, won't have to get hit no more."     "That's how it's gonna end?" I asked. Elizabeth appeared confused by this question.     "Can't hit my Grandma back. She's my Grandma."     "I know what you mean. Kids around . . . see me and just wanna wail. Just wanna hit me. And I haven't done anything wrong. I'm just a . . . I'm a fucking weirdo."     Elizabeth slowly made a silencing gesture as she brought her index finger to her pale lips. She dragged me up and we began walking again. We didn't discuss the pain visited upon us any more. We would face our demons when the time was right. There was no point in allowing our individual problems to weigh us down like a smoldering albatross. No, we had an escape in each other and there was no reason to ruin that.    We walked out of the playground, going the opposite direction from my house. We wandered into the cluster of stores that I would often view in passing during trips to the supermarket with my mother. Elizabeth was brazen enough to enter a grocery store without an adult chaperone. I was not used to such autonomy and it was somewhat intimidating. Elizabeth turned around and noticed I was on the other side of the automatic sliding doors, rolling her eyes as she saw me greet the door with fear. Elizabeth gestured for me to enter, and I did, though not without a small sinking feeling in my chest. As we browsed the aisles and flipped through magazines, I constanly looked over my shoulder, certain that a security guard would drag me out and toss me into a police car.    Leaving the store with bundles of candy gripped in our fists, we walked down the street looking like two tramps on holiday. We reached a house with overflowing weeds, a neglected car resting on four sets of cinder blocks in the driveway, where Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. She looked at me, chewing nervously on the left corner of her bottom lip.   "Uh . . .  this is my house. You should probably get going . . .  it was really nice to meet you . . . "   "Wait, what?"   "You gotta go . . ."   "No."   "Yes."   "Why?"    I heard a loud slam which rattled my bones, turning around to see an almost perfect copy of Elizabeth stomping towards us wielding a grass whip. She was dressed in an oversized white t-shirt and flannel pajamas, looking unbelievably furious. As she neared us, I realized she had a bigger nose and a more prominent overbite,  making her much more easily distinguishable from Elizabeth than I first thought.  With abandon, the angry younng girl tossed the grass whip onto the curb which made a large, clanging sound.    "Lizzie!" the girl cried, her eyes unblinking. "What the hell? You been gone all day? Thought you was s'posed to trim the weeds!"    "I'm so sorry, Kit-Kat . . ."    "Lizzie! Grandma's so mad right now!"    "Leave her alone!" I interjected. The two girls both shot me an identical venomous look at almost the exact same time.    "Mind your business!" Elizabeth yelled at me.  I felt wounded, immediately embarrassed to have even made the effort.    "You know him?!?" Katherine yelled in disbelief. "Lizzie, Grandma'll kill you she sees you with a boy."    "Kit-Kat, he was just following me. I told him to get lost, but he just kept chasing me." Katherine placed her hand on my chest and proceeded to push me.    "You go away! Leave her alone!"     I looked back to Elizabeth who'd begrudgingly picked up the garden tool and began slashing the towering weeds, taming the feral condition of the lawn. I sulked away, feeling abandoned. I walked back to my house and proceeded to angrily clean the large mess there was, tackling everything in a short amount of time. My mother walked through the door, gasping excitedly that she didn't have to take care of the house.     "Danny! Wow, the house looks great!" She placed a store bought cake on our living room table, a white plastic shovel-like knife taped to the side. "Sorry I couldn't pick you up, I was so busy at work."   "Yeah?"   "Yeah, I'm sorry. How was your day? Said goodbye to any friends?  Travis?"   "Yeah. It was okay. Travis was cool."   "Is he coming over any time soon?"   "Prob'ly not."   "That's a shame. He's such a nice kid, you guys should hang out more."   "Hmm."    I sullenly sat at the living room table where my mother placed down a tote bag. She pulled out a bag of biscuits, a tub of mashed potatoes, and a box of fried chicken tenders. "Whoa!" I yelled, glad to not eat another dinner sloppily cobbled together at the last minute. My mother smirked proudly.   "Thought you'd like that. Congratulations on graduating, Danny!" She hung over me and squeezed me tightly in her arms from behind.  I shoved the food in my mouth, crumbs flecked on my greasy lips. As I ate the food, I grew sluggish and contented. For a short while, I was distracted from Elizabeth's casual betrayal. We were friends, if only briefly, and she tossed me to the side like so much trash. I spent the rest of the night in my room, wallowing in a rather maudlin expression of self pity.  I stared at the walls and considered the impermanence of everything, wondering why everything in life was so quick to dissipate, especially the positive. I lied on my bed, vainly attempting to sleep as I thrashed around, ridden with angst.   I awoke the next day and felt no better, my body nauseous as I made my daily trip to the bathroom. I decided to walk around the neighborhood, observing everyone in my own voyeuristic way. The Williams sisters were sunbathing on their lawn, some catchy radio single crackling through a radio which sat between them. Mr. Davies was washing his car, his wife asking him a few benign questions which seemed to incense him anyway.  I walked back to the park, and I saw her. This time she was wearing a skirt and a dress shirt, but it was her. She had bandages on her tremulous hands, shuddering.    "Elizabeth?" I asked. We looked at each other, and stared for far too long at one another.    "Hey . . .  "    "What's up? You okay?"    "No. Thanks for asking."    "What happened?"    "Katherine told my Grandma I was with a boy. Grandma had a belt ready for me when I come inside. I'm not s'posed to be 'round boys, that's why I told you to get lost."     I moved to touch her shoulder in a reassuring gesture, though Elizabeth immediately recoiled. She looked at me, a vindictive stare which chilled my blood into ice. "What? I was just tryin' to be . . ."    "No, I know. Just . . . thank you, but not now."    "I'm sorry your grandma does that."    "It ain't your fault."    "I know that. But it ain't right."    "Nothing's fair, ya know. You get kicked around, you get ignored. It's not  like it's cause you did anything bad. It's cause there's always gonna be someone doing something bad and there's always gotta be someone suff'rin' for it. We just suff'rin' right now, cause we ain't bad."    "That's not a good way to look at it."    "But that's how it is. That's not to say there ain't good parts to it all."    "What's the good part of suffering?"    "Well people like us . . .  got people like us. I got people like you, make it better for a while. You got people like me to show you how it is."    "I guess . . .  "    "One day, we're gonna get stronger. You'll get bigger than them boys that pick on you. I'll get old enough to leave my house, and I won't have grandma yelling at me all the time."    "That's it?"      "That's all we can hope for. I can't take foster care, that's even worse. You ain't gonna just  hit 'em back, there's always more waiting to rabbit kick you. I know how that is, I seen other kids like us."      Elizabeth held my hands in a healing motion. I felt only her coarse bandages rub abrasively against my palms. Elizabeth looked at the ground, unable to look me in the eye. "You know . . . you say you're made to feel so invisble, like you're a ghost? Like you're not even there? I can say . . . you're here. You made yesterday good. Real good. I'm really happy that you're here."    "Yeah?"    She smiled. "Yeah."    "I'm happy to have you, too." I looked at her bandages and rubbed them gently. "What do we do now?"    "We play. Grandma's 'sleep right now, we could just play in the playground."    "That's it?"    "What else we gonna do?"    Elizabeth and I galloped around the playground, stronger for having each other. We seized as much joy as we could, living presently. The clouds of darkness  would naturally migrate back into our lives. Pain was always going to be lurking around the corner, waiting for an opportune time to rear it's vicious head. Despair would violently tug at our ankles and pull us into it's depths. But we both had a friend in each other, and that would make everything okay, if only for a little while.