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tigerdrop · 3 years

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hey i just wanna say the long posts genuinely make my day. also can you talk more about gordon freeman character because the way you write him makes me quake in my gay little boots

i would love to talk about gordon freeman. thank u for the opportunity

the first thing i need to communicate about gordon is that this dude sucks. and i say this in the fondest way possible. he is a bitch from the moment he drops into the world until the moment he goes out. if you dont believe me, give it another watch! gordons mouthy and rude for no real reason, at least so far as “being a regular dude on his way into work” goes, and this dude goes around calling his coworkers names with zero provocation. (of course, we all know that the reason is because its a funny guy improv stream that borrows a bit from freemans mind, but im talkin from a character sense.)

but my argument isnt just that gordon freeman sucks. its that he sucks in a very specific way that i find insanely endearing. i love this dude. i love to hate him. hes awful in a very mundane sense - weve all known a guy like this, at least if youve spent too much time online - and its cathartic to watch him suffer because of it.

gordons a smart guy. as written, hes gotta be - hes a recent MIT grad, on his way to work at a top-secret research facility to do weird shit with crystals and theoretical physics. but the thing about smart guys is that theyre often......selectively intelligent. we can see this in the way that he has a hard time navigating his surroundings, and needs the science crew to guide him through it and keep him alive.

this is one of those things that is a natural consequence of somebody going through the game for the first time, but that i am interpreting as “gordon is kind of stupid sometimes”. its uncharitable but its not like he doesnt deserve it. he likes to boss around the crew as if he knows what hes doing, when he often very much does not, and is fond of demeaning their intelligence. hes real bad about this with tommy in particular, treating him like hes a kid whos playing at being a scientist when tommy is actually a decade older than him. all i am saying is that gordon ought to stay humble. hes awful cocky when he perceives himself as better than others.

which, i think, tracks with how cocky he gets when he gives up on the whole “well-meaning citizen” thing and just unloads bullets into people. he puts up a front of being a Nice Guy, you know, just some dude caught in a bad situation who doesnt like seeing his companions obliterate every NPC they come across, but that doesnt stop him from cackling like a fucking madman and mowing down aliens (and soldiers) every once in awhile. when he stops seeing himself as helpless and starts seeing himself as the one in control, the gloves come off. he gets mean. and i think thats very sexy of him

this, among other things, is why i am insistent that gordon freeman is a control freak. he desperately wants to be in control of the situation at all times, shepherding around the science crew primarily by bitching at them, but its of limited success. its futile. sisyphean. tommy, coomer, bubby, and benrey exist almost to torment him with exactly the thing that would make him suffer the most: a gaggle of people running around causing problems for him, but he cant go anywhere without them b/c hes reliant on them to make it out alive.

its perpetual suffering, and its cathartic to watch. and funny, too. and if youre a little weirdo like me, its very, very enjoyable. how twisted up he gets when nobodys listening to him! how sweaty and frazzled he must look. its cute, and it also makes me want to reach through the screen and shake him and tell him to just be a little nicer. he wants control but he doesnt know how to attain it, he doesnt know how to play nice like a real leader. i think its a neat contrast to gordon freeman as we know him in HL2, where he literally is the leader of the resistance and has to live up to it. this is gordon freeman but if he was moe through helplessness.

“helpless” is, i think, a great way to describe him. a core bit of imagery in half life is this sense of railroadedness and helplessness, with gordon freeman being put into play like a chess piece and having no choice but to move forward. and this iteration of gordon leans into that by being totally dependent on the science crew in order to make progress and Not Die. and hes also subject to the whims of benrey, local eldritch weirdo who has basically made it his life mission to fuck with gordon.

gordons anxieties dont help with that. if he wasnt so fun to stress out and fuck with, the science crew probably wouldnt do it so much! too bad for him that they like fucking with him so much that he was driven into a panic attack (multiple times, even, depending on your interpretation). hes got that real neurotic mindset. always worrying about shit that could go wrong, and attempting to exert control over his surroundings in an effort to control the anxiety.

IMO the real way to nail the Neurotic Gordon Freeman Experience is to combine the ever-present anxiety with his pervasive sense of self-loathing. he openly states that he has no friends and nobody seems to like him, and to that, i really gotta say, i wonder why. he doesnt really seem to factor in that hes kind of a bitch, and has way too high an estimation of his own intelligence relative to everybody elses. its really one of the worst ways to be: aware that people dont like you, but unaware of exactly why. if he was like, 10% nicer, he probably wouldnt have had half as many issues getting through black mesa, but also, its funny to see him squawking his way through the game. so, you know.

its stuff like that that makes me headcanon him as a dude with low self-esteem in general. convinced that hes not likable, not attractive, out of his element......impostor syndrome, except that theres some truth to it. this is a guy who truly does not realize how good he has it: he really is just an average shitty dude, and yet, somehow, benrey took a shine to him. some poor motherfucker out there actually likes him and wants to suck his dick. thats dedication

also, i keep bringing up “repression” when i talk about gordon. and hopefully, what ive been talking about helps explain why. he has a strong desire to be a regular dude, not just murdering his way through black mesa, but if hes pushed hard enough he leans into it. gets bossy. picks up a cigar off a dead soldier and takes a long drag, before smacking forzen around with a pistol and ordering him around. gordon freeman is a regular, kind of anxious guy who likes competitive swimming and streaming on justin.tv and making anime references, and he is also a guy who takes a filthy pleasure in making a trained soldier his bitch. and i didnt make up any of this shit - this is purestrain canon, baby. this is a guy with problems

to me, this screams the kind of guy who represses a lot of shit b/c he doesnt feel like its morally decent. you run into this guy a lot online: the wokeboy, the online leftist, the guy who spends too much time on social media websites. (like reddit. i think he would actively use reddit and he would never get any appreciable amount of karma but he never stops posting. its sisyphean! cathartic.) from the way he talks about “bootboys”, i think it tracks. he knows about imperialism, he knows about feminism, but at the end of the day hes your average american white dude who struggles with internalizing it.

a lot of those dudes struggle with sex and gender issues. (dont we all.) when youre trying to be a Good Person(tm), you spend a lot of time thinking about your own relationship to sex and kink and all that shit. and i maintain that a too-online dude who buries a lot of his control freak tendencies would also try to bury a lot of weird sexual shit in an attempt to seem Normal and Well-Adjusted and not like a little freak. i justify this by the sheer number of times gordon blurts out weird sex shit as a joke. there are only two outcomes to making that many piss jokes: either youre secretly a piss guy, or you lathe-of-heaven yourself into becoming one. i will stand by this

ive talked a lot about why this dude sucks. now, let me talk to you about what makes gordon so much fun to write. first things first: hes funny! a subjective evaluation, yeah, but both in- and out-of-character, hes aiming to be funny. and being the straight man to everybody else plays into that whole “helplessness” thing.

secondly: underneath it all, there is a good dude under there. gordon worries when his companions get hurt, he tries to clean them off and patch them up, and hes got his lil leftist heart in the right place. you could even read a lot of his bossy, bitchy demeanor as him wanting to make sure everyone gets out okay and doesnt hurt themselves. when it comes to animals and anti-imperialist sentiment, gordons a pretty good guy.

hes the kind of guy who would probably see a dog on the street and get excited and play with it, but would get really prickly about the correct way to put dishes in the dishwasher. control freak tendencies.

finally, subjecting such a miserable, tormented guy to even more psychological anguish is really, really fun. you feel a little bad for him, but he kind of deserves it. so many problems he goes through are purely of his own making, and if gordon would just relax and quit trying to hard to maintain control - of himself, of the people around him - and own up to having Problems and Issues, he would be a happier guy. but thats why its fun to bend him until he breaks. being a little control freak myself, putting gordon freeman thru psychosexual torment is cathartic.

when it comes to writing his thought processes, the fact that he is canonically some kind of psychotic (yes, i am boldly claiming this. suck me) and i am also canonically some kind of psychotic makes it easier to write what i think his thought processes are. i just give him my brain issues of “getting lost in thought” and “overthinking fucking everything”. a touch of paranoia helps. even if i dont explicitly label him as schizophrenic please know that i am writing him as a paranoid little nutcase at all times because, uh, you write what you know.

paranoid. anxious. of the mindset that everyones out to get him (which isnt helpful when everyone is out to get him). repressed and deeply Not Normal but trying so very fucking hard to be normal and well-adjusted. a control freak with sadistic tendencies who also really, really likes getting bullied by his best frenemy. a hapless little nerd who sounds really cute when his voice starts to break from nerves. and, most importantly, a dumb jock. do not ever forget this.

thats gordon freeman, babey. hope that helps

#asky #careposting

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inknose · 4 years

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mdzs read diary part IV, the end

It’s inspiring how much self care wwx is gonna finally get now that his husband will go along with whatever he does, so he’s gotta look out for lwj’s well being if not his own. that is emphatically the STUFF

dragging my hands down I face as I read this, after all these chapters of getting up close and personal with ghouls bleeding from every orifice, slaying ancient beasts, rebelling against the entire cultivation world, the two of them are absolutely paralyzed by middle school crush sleepover math

chicken

he actually drew kissy doodles .... he....

IDK I THINK I JUST DOCUMENTED THIS PART CUZ I WAS STILL SCREAMING you cant expect me to have very useful things to say at this point

this is torture you are both so mushy you are so GONE

This part really stood out to me, it’s an attitude I feel like wwx implies with his inner narration a few times but most clearly says here: he’s not one for allowing himself to exaggerate how bad his circumstances are/could be even a little bit - he’s already lived through some extreme low points and found a way to keep going, so he never makes sweeping statements about what he couldn’t live without (Inner JingYi: you’re supposed to say you’d be lost without him here!!!) Instead he seems to accept as a given that being alive doesn’t guarantee him any pleasantness or joy at all, and as a result his feelings toward being in TRUE LOVE are surprisingly pragmatic, but also colored with such gratitude. There are a lot of things in the novel that struck me, like this, as being just a little to the left of familiar tropes/sentiments, and were more touching for it. Whether it be the influence of culture difference as opposed to what I’m used to reading in most western romance stories, or MXTX’s unique outlook, or a combination of both, it was really refreshing and made me pause over it. Not “I can’t imagine living without you” but “I could be living without you, but instead I get to be with you and I think that’s the best thing that could happen.”

ADJFDKFJ THE UST BEING SO STRONG THAT EVEN THE VILLAIN COMMENTS ON IT IN THE MIDDLE OF EXECUTING HIS EVIL PLANS IS ONE OF THOSE THINGS THAT WILL NEVER FAIL TO MAKE ME LAUGH MY ASS OFF. hes like god damn! here I thought I had problems

it was at this moment that I realized we were doing this Now... I’m still recovering. What a scene. I am so glad I saw the most incredible fanart soon afterwards, bc the fact that someone has already drawn a perfect comic of this part means I don’t have to

I love you so much, you are so annoying, you are perfect... I like how he’s been experiencing openly requited love for all of ten minutes but he’s already figured out how to weaponize it to piss people off

doing!!! his!!! job!!!!!

ahh... it’s a really good story. JGY is a great character. One of the most interesting differences for me between drama watching vs. novel reading experience is that without an actor to bat his vulnerable doe eyes at you and smile faintly with his cute dimples, the book does not go much out of its way to try to lull the reader into a false sense of security around him or *endear* him to you the way the show does. But just by seeing events through wei wuxian’s POV, its still enough to evoke pity or understanding towards him. The overall impression is a bit more detached though, there’s less emphasis on the spectacle of how he could manipulate everyone closest to him and more of a general feeling of resigned tragedy that everyones the worst on this bitch of an earth.

I CANNOT DEAL WITH YOU FOR EVEN ONE MORE SECOND!!!!

I clearly paused to take note of less and less parts at the end & the extras due to: a) too excited to reach the end b) too spicy to photograph and c) too sleepy cuz I kept reading in the middle of the night. but I absolutely took the time for Bro We Are Teens appreciation corner:

I’d absolutely read 40 more extra chapters of their monster-of-the-week field trip antics.

god... poor Jin Ling now basically has to deal with divorced parents that talk shit about each other to him whenever he is saying with one of them. except they are both his uncles. just a disasterhood of all uncles from start to finish. AUUUGH wei wuxian and jiang cheng have fucked me up completely, I dream of them reconciling but I also REFUSE to believe it would ever be easy. let me know if theres a fanfic that absolutely tortures you for decades before they hug

HAHAHA oh no this man ain’t making it to immortality thats for damn sure. HE’S JUST GONNA TRY AS HARD AS HE CAN HIS WHOLE LIFE NOT TO LOOK AT HIM BUT THEYRE *MARRIED* SDLKFJSF ohhhh it’s too funny, like... the mundane domestic family drama IN the fantastical swords and sorcery setting is what really ratchets up these things from amusing to fucking hilarious I think

aaaa the end... final random thoughts? No not final, I would like to please keep discussing at length and exhaustively, all the time please - CQL has gotta be one of the best TV adaptations I’ve seen. ANY adaptation of anything would be lucky to be so good!! reading the novel has just made me appreciate it even more.

- I don’t think I can do justice to what I find most fascinating about comparing the two versions briefly, to do that I need to get drunk and ramble at my friends for hours but... the condensed version is something like this. Really all the significant differences between the two versions (besides the ones which can be attributed to censorship and therefore aren’t worth discussing) are a side effect of the structure of how the story is told - there’s barely anything changed arbitrarily. Aside from having a cold opening, the drama sticks to a very linear version of the story, and I think for a TV show or film, that’s probably the best way to do it. We see everything, we get shocked and tricked and betrayed and surprised along with the characters, we feel the biggest impact at the climactic scenes having experienced all the build-up. The novel on the other hand is not only much more non-linear in WHEN we learn bits and pieces of information, but that information is also obfuscated under wei wuxian’s multiple layers of Unreliable Narratoritis, which are as follows: 1) difficulty remembering things because of personality/avoiding painful memories/actual memory loss, 2) No Homo Goggles still on, and 3) a wry sense of humor that makes the reader unsure of how much they can trust his attitude toward things, especially near the beginning. The experience of reading is a puzzle the reader has to mentally piece together through all of the above listed camouflage, and the puzzle itself is a three-sided mystery: One - How Bad of a guy was Wei WuXian really, and how exactly did all the bad stuff in his life go down; Two - wangxian epic pride & prejudice gambits; Three - political murder mystery. (I love stories like this btw... though I fully admit I’m glad I watched first this time bc it might have taken me a long time to tackle otherwise.) Because of this, where the drama wants to pull you in and submerge you in all the most potent emotional parts, the novel in direct contrast deliberately side-steps around these things and asks that you hurt yourself by filling in the blanks. In fact the more intense emotions and painful memories involved, whether it be his relationship with jiang yanli, his DEATH, the darkest days of war times etc, the more the novel evasively withholds details. I actually really like both styles of storytelling but each one is obviously way better suited to its medium. ANYWAY.... THATS BASICALLY WHERE MY BRAINS AT WHILE IM READING GAY SWORD WIZARD BOOKS

- The extras are so saturated with domestic married bliss that it’s a good thing I stopped taking pictures because I’d just take a picture of every page. this is too much for me to take... I did jump the gun a few times and read a few fanfics while I was still mid-read of the book (I tried to hold out but alas I am mortal) and at one point after finishing I was like “wow what fic was it in where lwj says something cute and wwx kisses him in public but they’re in the corner of the restaurant so no one really sees... OH NO WAIT that was actually in there.” and ... and that’s the LEAST OF IT... *stares into the distance* theyre married wow

- I ofc couldn’t help but see a few vague blogs beforehand so honestly I was braced for something like, wildly ooc for the sake of porn to happen in the extras... I definitely appreciate how the incense burner porn interludes could be uhhh a lot for many people and not my personal cup of tea in terms of smut however [here follows the words of a poisonous frog who has dwelt her whole life in the rainforests of BL] the concept is also surprisingly SWEET SDFLKJF like wwx sees lan wangji’s darkest mixed-up violent teenage fantasies and he’s just like aww babe you had a crush on me!! just... good for them

- I swear I’m not gonna rehash every cute married thing they do but wei wuxian grading papers in the tub........................rEALLY GOT ME

- I want to Draw - ok thats enough if I keep going I’ll just write “wei wuxian grading papers in the tub” seven more times probably

#mdzs readthru #this obviously has many spoilers

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turtle-steverogers · 4 years

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alright babe heres the first 5 I saw: "why are you covered in neon body paint?" "best not to ask" and "I cant breathe, I cant-" and "I cant walk just go on without me" and " ive had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with" and "hey guys im here and im ready to bitch"

hey guys, saph and i were facetiming earlier and she dared me to finally answer this ask she sent in like fall 2018 except i had to use all the prompts and the result is…well, i’m not sure what it is. but its got criminal race and spot and a cryptic ass albert who makes lava lamps for his niece. so yah. enjoy!

warnings: its pretty much crack, but there is a brief anxiety attack

ship: platonic race/al/spot

word count: 2490

editing: no

Something a Little Off-Kilter

Race was nine years old when his ma grabbed him by the chin, turned his face towards her and told him in all her harsh Italian-mother sternness, “We do not run from people, Antonio. You have Mancini blood in your veins and Mancini’s do not run!” And Race, with eyes blurred from tears and nose dripping with blood from the fight he’d just fled, nodded vigorously before trudging miserably to his bathroom to clean up (and cry a little more).

But he’d learned two things that day. One: what a maiden name was and that his ma’s is Mancini and two: running is for losers who never want to stop running. And he’d more or less kept up that sentiment, even if it cost him a black eye and some dignity in some circumstances. Like that one time in eleventh grade when Spencer Reiding called him a fairy and in turn, Race had beat the living shit out of him until his little entourage had shown up and knocked him out cold. But seriously, ‘fairy’? It’s not 19-fucking-50.

Race supposes, though, that all good sentiments meet their maker at one point or another. Self-preservation over morals and all that, right?

“Floor it, Christ, are you flooring it!?” His grip on the ‘oh shit’ bar is white-knuckled and he can hear himself panting as he twists in his seat for what’s probably the hundredth time. The blue and red flashing of the cop car that had been following them is nothing but a speck at this point, but Race isn’t really keen on taking any chances right now. Tonight had been a close fucking call.

“Yes, I’m flooring it, asshole!” Spot shouts, swerving around a lone subaru that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere on the otherwise empty stretch of desert highway. Normally, Race would be surprised at the sheer lack of cars that are out, but he supposes 4 am in buttfuck Arizona is not prime time for travels.

Letting out a little whine, Race turns to face forward again, stealing a quick glance at Spot as he does so. He can see the faint worry lines on his face, reflected from the miniscule lights of the dash. They’d opted to leave the headlights off for optimal covertness, but the moonlight over the desert proves to be more than sufficient.

Spot’s anxious, Race can tell. He remembers a year ago when the two of them had first met in that dingy bar in Brooklyn. Spot had been nothing but a stoic mask at that time, only showing faint hints of amusement every now and then. It had been incredibly disconcerting, especially to Race who wears his heart on his sleeve, to behold such utter passivity, but Race had since learned to read him. Spending everyday together for twelve months is really the best lesson in a person’s tells, Race has found. And really, when he spares a second thought to it, their situation and relationship therefore, is a strange one. Two broke college grads down on their luck and bearing fuck all from their families meeting by chance and somehow finding themselves stuck in a loop of money laundering and identity theft in order to stay above ground. Maybe not the best solution to their problems, but hey, Race never claimed to be smart with his choices. And the rush of adrenaline is as much of a drug as the coke they sell on the side.

“God fucking damnit, is he still following us?” Spot says, eyes flitting to the rearview mirror.

“Dude, he caught us balls deep tryna break into a fucking bank. He ain’t gon’ let us off that easy.” Race says, “Jesus fuck I told you we should stick to the other stuff. We were making big cash just fine pulling paychecks from easy civvies.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can tell me ‘told you so’ when we get somewhere I can think.” Spot sounds exhausted and on-edge and Race himself is looking forward to this whole ordeal blowing over so they can find a place to ditch this car and grab a new one and maybe crash at some shitty inn no cop would think to look. Yeah, laying low for a couple of days sounds perfect right now. They don’t even have to leave the room. Denny’s orders in, right?

“Oh, I will.” Race says, sighing an internal sigh of relief as the distant lights of a small town come into view. Thank god.

Spot mumbles something that sounds like, “Fucking finally,” and eases up on the gas, turning abruptly once they enter the city perimeter.

They’ve gotten good at this: losing tails, but Race still holds his breath as Spot loops around the backroads of the town, looking for a place to dump the car. It’s a few minutes until Race can see the lights of the cop car reflecting off the drug store they’d passed upon first entrance and he hisses out another curse, jabbing Spot in the arm.

“Stop here,” He says, “If he finds the car, fine, but he sure as hell ain’t finding us in it.”

Spot looks like he wants to fight back, but instead, he surprises Race by pulling to a surprisingly quiet stop by an old auto-shop. He gestures for Race to get out and swiftly grabs their duffels from the back seat, tossing Race’s to him, both pausing when the cop car cruises in front of the alleyway closest to them. Inaudibly, they let out synchronous sighs of relief when it continues on.

They cheat behind the auto-shop and are barely settled into identical crouches when a quiet, “Psst,” captures both of their attention. Race jumps violently, only barely recovering in time to slap a hand over Spot’s mouth as he begins to shout in surprise.

“Over here,” the voice whispers again.

The two of them turn to look at where the auto-shop’s back door is now open and Race squints as the silhouette of a man comes into view. He can see the man waving a hand in front of him, beckoning them closer, before exchanging a look with Spot. A silent conversation passes between them, we’ve made bad choices before, what’s one more? And Spot shrugs a little before hoisting his duffel back onto his shoulder and tiptoeing towards the man. Race follows behind warily.

Now that he’s closer, Race can see that the man is about their age- young and a little rugged looking with hair that curls towards his jaw at the nape of his neck. His face and arms are splattered with- well, Race’s first thought is that it’s blood, but upon further inspection, he sees that it’s paint. Bright yellow and orange neon paint.

He has a lot of questions. Like, how the fuck did you notice us lurking behind your building at four am? And, why did you think it was a good idea to interact with two obviously suspicious looking men? But all that comes out is, “why are you covered in neon paint?”

Spot drops his head in a groan and the guy laughs somewhat maniacally, “best not to ask, it’s a long story. Well, actually it’s not. You see, it’s my niece’s birthday tomorrow and she really likes lava lamps so I’m hand making a few for her and that includes painting the bases and she’s going through that quirky eight year old phase where everything rainbows and neon is super cool, so I’m making them neon tie-dye,” he says it all in one breath and Race finds himself struggling to keep up, “anyway, the names Albert. You two look like you need some help. Wanna come in?”

The whole situation’s fucking weird, but Race and Spot exchange another look, this one holding the quick debate of, what other options do we got? And a moment later, they’re hustling into the dingy auto shop.

The lights are dim on the inside, but it’s a surprisingly cozy set up. The side dedicated to cars is immaculately organized, with a few hanging from the ceiling and others lined neatly on the ground, propped up on floor jacks where necessary. On the other side is clearly where Albert lives, with a couple curtains sanctioning off a twin bed and desk, where sure enough, three lava-lamps, varying in color and size, are set on a few sheets of newspaper.

Spot frowns as Albert locks the door, turning to them with a smile, “I’m assuming the cop car out there’s for you guys?” When Race and Spot don’t answer, he continues, too lighthearted for the situation, “Yeah, figured. Feel free to lay low here ‘til the threat’s passed.”

“If the police are clearly after us, aren’t we the threats?” Spot asks, “Wait, no, hold on, aren’t you gonna ask us what we did? Aren’t you put off at all?”

Albert waves a hand, “Nah, I do this all the time. Just don’t try to murder me and we’re good. You look like nice enough people, just a little down on your luck. I don’t mind you camping out here while ya need.” He sets off towards his desk, seemingly to finish the lava-lamps, “The door across from the supply closet is technically an office, but I stuck a mattress and some blankets there for people like yourselves. Feel free to crash. If the bull comes by, I didn’t see anything.” With that, he’s gone. Behind the curtain as if he’d never been there.

Race blinks, bemused, and looks at Spot.

“What the fuck did he mean, ‘I do this all the time’? Who the fuck is this guy?”

Spot shakes his head, looking more lost than Race has ever seen him, “Hell if I know.”

The office-turned-guest-room turns out to be more spacious than Race had anticipated and he and Spot are sitting on the mattress, munching on granola bars that were placed unceremoniously in a bowl by the door, when they hear a knock from outside.

Race feels a pit of dread form in his gut and he lowers his granola bar, appetite lost. It’s the cop, it’s gotta be. Who else would be knocking before dawn? And oh god, they’d left the car right out front, how much more obvious can they be?

Race glances at Spot, who’s also stopped eating, and hisses, “If he catches us, run. Go on without me.”

He means it, but Spot just huffs out a bitter laugh, “As if. Now shut up.”

They strain their ears, listening as Albert opens the door, feigning sleep they know he hasn’t gotten in his voice, “Officer. Is there a problem?”

They can’t hear what the cop says, but Albert’s side of the conversation is fairly clear, “Hm? Oh, the paint? I was working on a project for my niece and must have dozed off before cleaning up. Anyway, how can I help you?” There’s a pause, “Two- what? I haven’t heard anything about no bank robbers, that’s terrible! I- oh, that car, that’s…strange, that wasn’t here when I went to sleep. Sure, you can check around back, but I doubt ya’d find anything. I’da heard if someone were moving around out there and I didn’t hear nothing last night. Yes sir, I- oh? Nah, I’m afraid I can’t letcha search my shop. Not without a warrant. Mm, sorry officer. Yes, I understand the caliber of the situation, but it is my legal right to deny your entrance to my home without substantial reasoning. Mhm, but see, that’s a hunch. I don’t see no warrant. Okay, officer. Yes. just around back. Go ahead. Alright, officer, okay. Nice chat. Goodbye.”

The door closes a second later and Race lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. All at once, the adrenaline of the night hits him. They’d almost been fucking caught, Christ, what if they’d ended up in jail? What if they still end up in jail? He couldn’t survive jail, fuck, he wouldn’t even be able to afford and lawyer and shit-

His body is shaking, vibrating really, and a weight is steadily growing on his chest. Involuntary tears prick at his eyes and he brings a hand up to the front of his shirt, tugging as if that would release some of the pressure from his lungs.

“Race?” Spot sounds distant and Race turns to him, knowing he looks panicked, but having no capacity to change that, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Race says, voice high and pitchy, “I can’t really breathe, I can’t-”

“Shit, hey, it’s okay. I think you’re having an anxiety attack,” Spot says, sounding uncharacteristically gentle, “I know a lot happened tonight, but we’re okay,” He places a comforting hand on Race’s shoulder, “Just breathe, it’s okay.”

Race nods, closing his eyes and focusing on Spot’s touch, allowing it to ground him. A few moments later, he’s feeling calmer, if still a little shaken.

“You alright?” Spot asks, not removing his hand.

“Yeah, I dunno, man,” Race says honestly, “It’s been a rough ass night and all I want right now is something to drink and someone to cuddle with,” his eyes fly open as soon as the words are out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that. He’s not sure why he said that. It’s not even like he and Spot have that sort of relationship, nor is he particularly seeking that out. But now that it’s out there, Race wouldn’t say no to some good old physical comfort.

Spot seems to sense that and laughs a little as he removes his hand from where he’s still gripping Race to sling his arm around his shoulders. It’s a little more intimate than they usually are, but friendly and comfortable nonetheless. Race takes a deep, shaky breath and rests his head back against the wall, leaning into Spot’s side.

“Yeah, it’s been a fucked up night and I think I’m still deciding whether or not it’s real or just some weird fever dream,” Spot says, “Like, who even is that guy? What the fuck is his deal?”

“Lord even knows,” Race says, “But I think I got my fill of crazy for a while.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They lapse into silence and Race is just starting to drift off when the door to the office opens and Albert pokes his head in, somehow covered in even more paint than before and holding up a bottle of tequila, “hey guys, I’m here and I’m ready to bitch. The cop is gone now, though I wouldn’t recommend skipping town just yet- better safe than sorry. Also, bank robbers, huh? Haven’t had your kind in a while. You’re a fun type, though the arson that I met last week was pretty spicy. Anyway, drinks? I know it’s early for alcohol, but I get the feeling y’all need it.”

Spot doesn’t even try to lower his voice as he says, “Yeah, I don’t think our fill of crazy is over yet.”

don’t ask me what that was about, i genuinely don’t know

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @getchapapes@we-dont-sell-papes@suddenly-im-respecsable

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#newsies #newsies fic #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #spot conlon #crack kinda #idk #sprace #sorta #ralbert #kinda #which is weird #idk!!

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years

Text

Who We Are (5)

Summary: With both your parents dead, you are sent to live with your uncle, Tony Stark. With your new friends, Peter and Ned, you investigate the people selling the alien tech weapons.

Warnings: Canon violence, language (?)

Word Count: 1339

THIS FIC WAS TRANSFERRED FROM MY WATTPAD

Chapter 5

You woke up in a place that was definitely not your room. You propped yourself up on your arms. There was an IV tube sticking into your left arm and a heart rate monitor beeping beside you.

The pain had stopped.

Looking around, you discovered you were in a corner of Tony's workshop. Someone had set up a mini hospital room around the bed you were laying in. A clock on the wall read 9:53, and, guessing by the lack of sunlight coming through the window, it was in the evening.

I must have been out for a couple of hours. You look around for your phone to see if Peter had any updates on the stone, but someone must have taken it out of your pocket..

"Hello, (Y/N). I will alert your uncle that you have woken up." FRIDAY's voice rang through the room.

"Um, yeah, okay, thanks, I guess," You mumble. Barely a minute later Tony burst into his workshop. Wasn't he just on a trip?

"Great you're awake," He said breathlessly as he pulled up a holographic file. He looked at the clock. "Two days and seven hours." He noted. "Close to last time."

"Wait." With two sentences your uncle gave you millions of questions. "Two DAYS? LAST TIME? I WAS OUT FOR TWO DAYS AND THERE WAS A LAST TIME?"

"Here." Tony tossed you your phone and ignored your outburst. "That thing was going off like crazy. Your boyfriend was worried." You looked at your phone seeing hundreds of texts from Peter.

"He's not my boyfriend," You mutter under your breath.

"He even dropped by to check on you." Tony looked at you. "You told him."

"Well, he told me about him being Spider-man," You said defensively.

"Teenagers." Tony put his head in his hands. "Can't keep a secret."

"Can you answer my questions now?" You shove your phone in your pocket. You'll talk to Peter later. "I was out for two days? There was a last time?" Tony sighed and closed the holographic file before answering you.

"You know why you never really came here when you were younger?"

"I remember you and my dad had a fight."

"Yes, we did. You all had come during one of your school breaks. It was just after the battle of New York, and you were about seven or eight. I told your dad that you three should come another time, but he had been planning it for a while. The streets were mostly cleared of debris, but you could never know what would be in corners of small alleys.

"We were sitting outside, having lunch in one of my favorite little Italian places when you wandered off. It was in a small plaza, but you wandered into an alley. There was a flash of purple light from the alley and when we got to you," Your uncle took a deep breath before continuing. "When we got to you, you were unconscious. We took you back to the tower and, in two days and seven hours, you woke up. Your father and I got into an argument about it and you left."

"Oh." You tried to wrap your head around it. "Wow."

"When you were in your little coma I ran some tests, this time too. Last time nothing changed, but this time-" He opened another holographic screen and sat next to you.

"You're going to have to explain this to me because I don't understand anything on here." The screen showed two strands of DNA side by side.

"This is you last time." He pointed to the one on the left. "And this is you now." The one on the right was slightly different. "It's not a big difference, but something in you must have changed." You nodded as Tony talked. "That must have been why you were in so much pain, your DNA was rewriting itself. I didn't want you messing around with alien tech because I thought it would trigger something in you from the first time. And I didn't want you to get hurt." You were surprised by this. Seeing the soft side of Tony Stark is a rare occurrence. "You're the only living family member I've got left, (Y/N). I don't want to lose you too."

You realized that you were in the same position with your uncle as your last living relative. Seeing your uncle sentimental was strange. "So what do you think changed? I don't feel any different."

"Well, I guess we just wait until you grow a tail or something." Tony stood up.

"You're joking, right?" You watched your uncle start to clean up. "Tony tell me you're joking." You aim the words at him.

"I'm joking," He replied, his back to you. Maybe it was your imagination, but he sounded quite monotoned. When Tony spoke again he sounded normal, "You should eat some real food, and get some real sleep. You have the bus to DC early tomorrow. Regionals for the Academic Decathlon, nice."

"How did you know about that?"

"I read your school record, they update those things fast. Also Spider-kid sent a text about it."

"You read my texts?"

"Just that one, it was at the top. You should go pack."

"I don't think I can go. I haven't even gone to one of the practices. There was one yesterday, but I was... you know. I probably won't be competing."

"Still, you should go, (Y/N). It'll be fun. You can make friends with other people who aren't Spider-boy."

"But I-"

"Go."

"But-"

"GO."

"Fine." You took the elevator up to the kitchen, where you stocked up on food, then your room. Laying on your bed you finally decide to read the texts from Peter.

(Wed. Oct. 11) Peter - Hey, (Y/N). I just wanted to check if you were ok. Text me when you can. I'll keep you updated.

(Wed. Oct. 11) Peter - the craziest thing just happedn. So two guys came to the school and were lookign for thes tone and i think they work for the person whos running the waeapons thing and i put a tracjer on one of their shoes so ned and i ca nsee where their secret base is. Keep you updated.

He must have been excited because of the many typos in the text. The next couple of texts were locations: Brooklyn, Staten Island, they left Jersey, they stopped in Maryland. The following texts were him checking if you were okay. Answer me when you can.

(6 hrs ago) Peter - I dropped by the Avenger's tower after school today to check on you. They wouldn't let me past the first floor. I have your homework whenever you want it.

(4 hrs ago) Peter - They're still in Maryland btw

(4 hrs ago) Peter - The guys I was tracking.

(4 hrs ago) Peter - I don't know how i'm gonna get there. Text me when you can.

(42 min ago) Peter - I know how i'll get there. The academic decathlon is this weekend in dc. Are you going?

The texts stopped there. You quickly text back, hoping he was still awake.

You - Hey Peter, i'm fine. I think.

He answered back not even a full minute later.

Peter - What happened? Can you still go to dc?

You - I'll tell you what happened tomorrow.

You - Tony convinced me that i should go. But i havent even gone to a practice.

Peter - Mr. harrington is nice. He'll let you come

You - I probably won't do anything

Peter - You can help me take out the bad guys.

You - Ok then... i'll go

"(Y/N),Tony wants me to tell you to go to bed immediately." FRIDAY's voice suddenly echoed through your room, starling you.

"Okay FRIDAY, thanks. I will in a sec."

You - I've gotta go. Tell you everything tomorrow.

Peter - See you. Glad youre feeling better.

You smile, put your phone away, and asked FRIDAY to turn off the lights.

#who we are #spider-man #spider-man: homecoming #peter parker x reader

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allmight-amiright · 5 years

Text

Redo. Bakugou Katsuki

Request: hey hey hey! Your angst is well, angsty. I love it, could you do a Bakugo&Reader fighting a villain with a quirk that can erase memories and the reader gets caught by their quirk? I love your writing keep it up!

Word count:2.5K

Warnings: Swears

Notes: If you don’t think Bakugou says ‘yo,’ you can fight me. Can we also make it canon that Bakugou loves saying shit like “THAT’S MY WIFE”

It was just a normal Wednesday afternoon where Bakugou was concerned. Sure, you got called off on a mission, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He had work to do. It was Wednesday and Wednesday meant trash day, mid-week laundry day, and “Bakugou, please, for the love of All Might, organize your dresser drawers” day. With you out on a mission, that also meant that he was in charge of dinner so the two of you could eat when you were done.

Bakugou felt like a housewife straight out of the 1950s. He had a bandana to hold his hair away from his face. He had an apron protecting his black t-shirt. It was your flower-y apron, but it was an apron nonetheless. He had been balancing a number of different tasks during the day, making sure his pasta didn’t boil over, folding and putting away your laundry, making the bed, paying attention to his favorite soap opera so he could discuss with Kirishima later, cleaning out the fridge, and anything else he could think of that needed to be done.

He was draining his pasta when his phone started to buzz and play the tune that he had set to your contact. He hit the speaker button and continued dumping his noodles into the strainer. “Hey, babe. How’s it going?” He asks.

“Woah. Didn’t realize we had reached ‘babe’ status,” a voice that is very much not yours answers with a laugh.

“Oh, hey, Kirishima. Dude! Did you see today’s episode?!”

“Dude! Jessica!”

“I know! She’s totally going to get murdered by her ex-husband’s new girlfriend’s son.”

“He’s so gonna kill her! Okay, but Ivan, though? I didn’t like him, but I think he’s growing on me.”

“Yeah, he and Karen stole that baby and he’s like a new dude. A good dad? Now that’s something I can get behind. It’s really too bad that the baby was just a scheme set up by Karen so she could leave the baby with Ivan and sneak off with Derek.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna suck when Ivan finds out. But, he’s not find out for at least another three months.”

“Dude, I know,” Bakugou says, sighing. Then he remembers. “Yo, why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

“Oh, yeah! So, here’s the shit. Dropped my phone in the ambulance on the way here, so one of the EMT guys is go-”

Bakugou’s smile drops. He sets the pot in the sink, holding his phone up to his ear. “Why did you need an ambulance, Kirishima?” He growls.

“Oh, I didn’t! Y/N did,” Kirishima says nonchalantly, as if it really wasn’t a big deal and that it was as normal as catching a bus.

“What the hell did you do to my wife!”

“Oh! Right! That’s why I called you. See,” Kirishima’s composure switches from his typical cheer to more of a nervous shake, but most people did that when they had to talk to an angry Bakugou, especially if it concerned you.

“I swear on your mother’s life, if you let any villain lay a finger on my wife, I will personally cut off your toes and shove them down your throat!” Bakugou threatens, his rage bubbling with each passing moment.

“No! Dude, she’s fine! Well, kind of… Like, she’s definitely awake, sitting right here next to me.”

“Then, let me talk to her.”

“Well, about that… Maybe you should talk to her in person.”

“Remember Kirishima, if I get there and there’s as much as a scr-”

“Yeah, I know, dude. Toes. Yum. Gotcha. Stop threatening me and come here.”

Bakugou didn’t need to be told twice. He had already hung up the phone and was half way out the door. “Shoes, keys, phone, wallet,” he mutters to himself, patting his pockets before leaving.

But he came bursting back through the door a few moments later with a simple, “Fuck, my chicken!” He yanked open the oven, grabbing the dish of chicken breasts, ready to be added to the pasta, recoiling as the scalding hot pan seared his hand. Bakugou released a stream of swears as he held his hand under the now running tap, digging in a drawer for a pot holder. With his new safety precaution, he removed the chicken, setting it down on top of the stove before sprinting out the door.

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

He stood at the front desk at the hospital, tapping his fingers against the desk impatiently, waiting for a receptionist. A tired young man emerged from around the corner and took a seat and gave Bakugou a polite smile. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“I need to see Y/N Bakugou.”

“Okay,” he murmured, typing your name into his computer. “What’s the relation?”

“She’s my wife! I should get to see her!”

“Can I see your ID?”

“This is ridiculous,” Bakugou grumbled, pulling his ID out of his wallet and handing it to the guy behind the counter.

The receptionist doesn’t say anything, checking the information on the ID to the information Kirishima had written on your patient forms. “Okay, sir, everything seems to match up, Ms. Bakugou is on the seventh floor, room 737. Just go through those doors and the elevator will be to your left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, sliding his ID back in his wallet and starts to walk away. “Oh, hey, by the way, that’s Mrs. Bakugou to you.”

Up the elevator and down the hall he went. He practically slammed the door to your room open. “Alright, dumbass, what-” He’s greeted by the horrified stare of a little girl hooked up to an IV. He looked at the number plaque on the door. 747. Shit. “I’m so sorry. I’ll just be going,” he says, starting to leave.

“Hey, mister!”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Are you that one superhero with the fire?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Listen, kid, I’m a little busy right n-”

“You and the really nice lady are married, right?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at you being referred to as ‘the really nice lady.’ He knew just how feisty you could be, especially with him. He had seen you red hot mad, threatening to smack him with a spoon. He knew that you could and would kick his ass given a good enough reason. But he also had seen you out in the field, saving civilians. It brought out your motherly nature and what being a hero was all about, helping people. So, he figures he could see where she got the idea.

“Yeah, I am,” he answers, smiling a little, running his thumb over his silver wedding band.

“She saved my life today, but I didn’t get to tell her thank you. So, can you give this to her?” The girl holds up a folded piece of paper with a crudely drawn image of you and the girl on the front with ‘Thank you’ written in purple crayon, but it was spelled more like ‘Thak yew,’ but it’s the sentiment that matters, right?

Bakugou walked over to her and crouched down so he was level with her. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll take this to her, and when she’s all good to go, I’ll bring her by for a quick visit, okay?”

Her eyes lit up as she clutched the teddy bear that was wearing a little mask that was similar to the one you wear. “You’d really do that? She’s my favorite!”

“I’m sure that she’d love to meet you. Now, I have to go find her, but I’ll make sure she gets your card.”

“Thank you, mister!”

“Of course. Feel better, kid.” Bakugou walked out of the room, closing the door much quieter than he had opened it.

740.

739.

738.

Found it.

737.

He double-checked the number on the door and just to be safe, he took the clipboard of health information off the wall, checking it over for your name.

There it was.

Y/N Bakugou.

He opened the door to you laying in your hospital bed, carrying on a quiet conversation with Kirishima who was sat in the chair next to your bed. At the sound of his entering, you and Kirishima stop your conversation and turn your attention to him. Kirishima smiles at him, but you just stare at him in confusion.

“Hey, man!” Kirishima says, raising a hand in greeting.

Bakugou moves over to your side. He sets the card down on the table next to you before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What’s up, dumbass?” He asks, looking at you.

You just look at him, pulling your legs up towards the rest of your body and away from him. “Kirishima?” She asks, turning back to her previous conversation partner.

Bakugou looks at you bewildered and then turns his gaze to his friend. “I thought you told me that she was fine!” He snapped.

“Yeah, she is, dude!”

“Then, why is she acting like that!”

“I’m right here, you know,” you pipe up, obviously offended that he’s talking about you in such a manor when you’re three feet away from him.

“Yeah, about that,” Kirishima says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “So, we were fighting off this villain, right? Well, we were helping the people we evacuated and this dude’s like, ‘Yo, my daughter is still in there. You gotta help her.’ So, we were like, ‘Ight. Bet.’ So, we’re going to find this dude’s daughter and we find her, obviously, because we’re heroes, you know? Anyway, so, we got the kid and we’re leaving and then bad guy shows up out of nowhere! He’s all like ‘gotta snatch those memories for that power,’ and he’s going for the kid, but Y/N throws the kid behind her just in time to save the girl, so that’s the good news. Bad news, she doesn’t remember shit. I’ve been trying to jog her memory since she woke up, but nothing’s working, dude.”

Bakugou turns his attention to you. “Who am I?” He asks.

“A grouchy asshole who came into my hospital room, called me a dumbass, and started yelling at the only person who’s been here for me!”

“My name, smartass,” he snarls.

“How the hell am I supposed to know! Didn’t you hear? I don’t remember.”

“You don’t get to not know me! We’re married! See this?” He snaps, holding up his hand next to yours. “Married. So, you better figure out who I am real fast, princess.”

“Why would I marry you? You’re a complete ass!”

“I said the exact same thing, but you sure as hell didn’t care then, so why do you now!”

“Because I don’t know who you are!” You shout.

The room is filled with eerie silence as it finally sinks in. You really don’t know. You really don’t remember being married to him for the past five years. You don’t remember dating him. You don’t even remember his name.

“Y/N, baby, it’s me. It’s Katsuki.” He scoots closer to you, taking your hands in his, maybe hoping the feeling would ignite some kind of memory. “I’m your Kacchan. Your literal hot-stuff. Come on! Sugar Muffin?”

Kirishima can’t help but snort.

“Die.”

“Listen, I believe you, really, but I just don’t remember.”

“No! You have to. You have to remember, Y/N. You can’t just forget everything that we’ve been through. Everything we’ve planned. We had our whole life planned! You can’t just forget something like that, Y/N!” He begged. The anguish was beginning to wash over him. How could you? How could you just forget about The Plan? You guys were supposed to go to the shelter soon and pick out a dog. The two of you wanted to have a kid within the next few years. You were going to buy your first house outside of the city, so Yuri could grow up in a safer place. Yuri was supposed to have a little sister. They were going to grow up and go to a hero school, just like their parents, if they wanted to.

“Please,” he whispered, squeezing your hands. “You have to remember. I can’t spend the rest of my life knowing that you don’t remember who I am. You’re my everything, Y/N. I mean, just look at these pictures!” He pulls his phone from his pocket and opens his camera roll, going to the saved album that was just pictures of the two of you. “Maybe if you look at how things used to be, you’ll remember. See, there’s us last Christmas. You bought us those stupid reindeer antlers, because you thought they’d make a cute picture for our Christmas card. This one’s from your birthday. We took a hike and had a picnic next to this really pretty lake. I bet that you couldn’t catch five grapes in your mouth. You couldn’t, so I got to throw you in the lake. You ended up getting pneumonia, because I’m a dumbass. We took this one on our anniversary. I took you to the aquarium. I hadn’t seen you that excited in such a long time. You were running around that place like a kid in a candy store. You kept trying to take selfies with the fish. Here’s one of our wedding pictures. You looked so incredible. I really couldn’t believe that I was finally going to be able to call you my wife. Look, there’s Kirishima ruining our perfectly good photo.”

Bakugou probably spent close to two hours scrolling through the photos, telling you a little bit about each one, hoping that you would jump in with some other memory from the day, but he never got that. You just sat there in silence, smiling politely, adding a small ‘That’s nice’ every now and again. But, you just truly didn’t remember and no amount of pictures was going to change that. Bakugou was aware of that, but he wasn’t willing to admit it. He wasn’t willing to admit that every moment, every kiss, every secret shared was now gone from your memory.

He finally stopped. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t keep scrolling through those photos and see you feeling nothing right in front of him. He took your hands, squeezing them in his. Bakugou leaned his forehead against your knuckles. His back rose and fell with shaky breaths. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you. That’s what a good husband does. But, I just let this happen to you instead. I’m such a piece of shit…”

“Stop that,” you say. “From everything you told me, you sounded like you were a perfect husband. I’m sorry, okay? I wish I could remember.”

“I just don’t.”

#mha #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #mha imagines #bnha #bnha imagines #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki #angst #imagine #headcannon #fluff #ua #request

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imagining-sio · 5 years

Text

Escapism IV

Rising Tides

“You’re a vet?” I asked as I took off my helmet. We had just arrived in his driveway from the trip back to the auto-shop, which I was beginning to suspect was merely a ploy to get me to interact with him more.

“Yeah, 107th, where I met Wilson.” He hooked the bottom of his helmet on the handlebar of the Matt black cafe racer.

“And Steve?” I asked again.

“Nah, that pain in ass has stuck with me since we were kids,” he chuckled run his hand through his hair.

“What position were you?” I inquired whilst we strolled down to my inhabitance. His grip tighten on the small box, and he moved his other hand into his pocket.

“I was a scout sniper,” I watched as his chiseled jaw clenched tightly.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, you know?” I told him, setting my hand upon his arm. He stopped as I walked up to the bronco, propping up the hood again. I looked back at him, and he had an odd expression on his face. He looked as if he was contemplating on actually telling me. He stood unmoving, unflinching, yet his expression travel as if it were a million miles a minute. And just like that, the walls went up; and the charming smile came back.

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna dampen your sunny mood.” He nudged me.

“Yes, because I have such a bright disposition around you.” I deadpanned, eyebrows raised. I crossed my arms over my chest, rubbing my arms.

As I did, a weight fell upon my shoulders. I peered over to find Barnes had placed his jacket on me. It would seem it wasn’t up for a debate let alone a conversation as he went right to work, as if it was completely normal.

“Uh, Bucky?” I asked.

“You looked cold, so hang on to it while I get this in.” He took on a serious more mature tone. He was headfirst into the engine, his tattooed limb about halfway down in the machine. He was in his work mode, and I knew that he wasn’t coming out of it until he was done.

Doesn’t mean I couldn’t have fun with it.

“So Barnes? Who was she?”

“Rumlow’s ex-girlfriend.” He answered, pulling the malfunctioning device out.

“Are you telling me all this fighting between you two has been over a girl?” I scoffed, pulling the jacket on through the sleeves.

“Ha! He wished, then it would make me look like the asshole of the community,” he laughed, unscrewing the wires where it was connected; “They broke up six months ago and she’s been trying to get back at him by flirting with me. Though she keeps saying that he’s had some new interest in someone new in town. Care to guess who that is?” He looked straight me, clearly aware of the game I was playing. I paled, making a disgusted face.

“If he has interest in me, I’m afraid it’s not your concern,” I gave him an expectant expression. I watched with satisfaction as he clenched his jaw and continued working.

“Well, if he tries anything; lemme know.”

“And what qualifies and ‘trying’.”

“You know, anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“What if you make me uncomfortable.” I smiled as I asked. To which my neighbor promptly shot up, banging his head upon the underside of the hood. I started cackling so hard I doubled over.

“That’s not funny.” He rubbed the top of his head.

“You’re right; it hilarious!” I held my stomach with one arm, pointing at him and laughing even more.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Wilson,” he grumbled, turning back to the project at hand. i had to force myself to stifle the copius amount of giggling from my lips, opting to merely hold my hand in front of my mouth.

“You haven’t been spending enough time with Wilson,” I raised a brow. he glared at me, before his expression changed again. It softened as he held my gaze.

“You’re smiling.” he stated blankly.

“Yeah, I can do that Barnes,” I chuckled, a slight tin of pink oainting my cheeks.

“It nice.” he responded; “I haven’t really been able to see it until now.”

“T-thank you.”

“The jacket makes you look lke a scrawny kid,” he gestured to all of me. Finally completing the operation, he slammed the hood shut.

“Gee thanks,” I deadpanned, though the smile upon my face had a different view.

“No really its cute,” he chuckled, ducking nhis head down and shaking his head. We both started laughing together, trying to get each other to stop before bursting into giggles as soon as we looked at each other.

My phone going off broke us out of the endless cycle. I dug the rectangle out of my pocket, seeing the contact on my screen, paling at the name.

“One second, I gotta take this.” I said solemly, clearing my throat as I walked to the end of my own driveway. I took a deep breath before my thumb hit the green button on the right side.

“Hello,” I said into the device.

“Hey, this is Detective Danvers, not sure if you remember me but I gave you my number before you left town.” The voice explained.

“No I do, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“It’s been almost a whole year,” she stated; “We’ve made progress. We have enough to indite him on charges.”

“Why do I hear a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence,” I sighed, looking down at my feet.

“You will have to testify for us if we want to go ahead on the charges.” she sighed as well, I could hear the faint sound of bustling noise in the background of the audio.

“Look I’m not here for a direct answer right now, we havent brought the case to the DA yet. but I just wanted to let you know before we offically come across the country to ask you. I want to give you time to think about it, you can call me when you made your decision anytime, I know how hard it is for you.”

“Thank you detective.” I said; “I appreciate it.”

“So hows life in the middle of nowhere.” she asked. I snorted through my nose, a fond smile appearing on my lips.

“Not terrible.”

“That’s great! OH- I gotta jet kid, take care,” she ended the call before I could say a word. I placed the phone back in my pocket. I inhaled a deep breath, the weight I commonly felt somehow appeared back upon my shoulders. I could never escape it, I honestly don’t know why I would bother to try sometimes.

“Who was it?” my neighbor strode into my peripheral vision.

“No one important,” I started shrugging the jacket off, folding it over my arm.

“Lemme buy you lunch,” he stated, declining my extended offering of his jacket.

“Wait, I should be paying you for what you just did,” I protested.

“How many times do we have to go over this, it’s on the house,” He laughed, returning to his driveway.

“I’m buying then!” I yelled across the street.

“Like hell you are!” he shouted from his garage, although I could not see him.

“Really? Got a problem with a woman paying for you?” I tried inciting him, only to have the hum of the motorcycle echoing through the street. I watched as Steve, Thor, and Clint pulled up on their respective motorcycles. Steve barely kicked the stand out before he hopped off and ran toward the garage where Bucky was pullign out the bike.

I trotted across the street, my cocern amplifying with each step.

“What’s wrong?” I asked the large bearded man.

“WHAT!” Bucky shouted from the garage.

“There’s a problem at the Witch’s Covent,” Clint said simply, a tight expression on his face.

“What happened?” I pressed them, but they didn’t have time to answer as my neighbor was storming out of the garage with his motorcycle in tow.

“What’s going on!” I asked, my tone sounde slightly frantic. Steve approached his bike, starpping his helmet on.

“No time to explain,” was all the blonde said as he sat on his bike, making me back away a few steps. I locked eyes with my neighbor as he revved the engine of his vehicle. I could only back into his driveway as they all drove out of sight in mere seconds. The cold breeze a stark reminder of the loneliness that becme oh so present. The only thing I had to cling to was his leather jacket.

In the coming days, they became more and more solemn in nature. No one came into work to order coffee. I was too busy to try and see what was going on at the shop. Enda and Thomas only said that something had happened at the Witch’s Covent. No one was saying anything, it was getting aggravating at this point.

It was either I had to accept I would’nt find out or I had to start finding out for myself.

I stared out the window, gazing at the sunset of my backyard, the lake was still as the sun glistened over its surface. Everything was still, secure, stable. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I missed my neighbor. I missed him greatly.

I chuckled at the thought of how he would respond to me admitting it. He’d probably make it his ringtone, constantly replaying it over and over at my expence. To my own dismay, I wouldn;t be objected if he did. Annoyed maybe, but in a sentimental way.

I couldnt take it anymore, I had to find out if he was ok. I grabbed his jacket, to which I had been wearing a lot more often than one should; especially when they accidentally stole the item that doesn’t belong to them. I snatched my keys off of the counter, making sure I had a few twenties in cash before I hopped into the newly revived Oliver.

The turning of his engine had never sounded better. It was refreshing to not have to worry about his health since Bucky had fixed his temporary illness. I backed out of the driveway, shifting the gear to drive down the road.

It wasn’t hard to find the place, Edna was right in that I drove by it coming home from work. The place looked like every biker bar would, given the fact that a line of motorcycles were placed out in the parking lot alongside the byway. I pulled into the dirt lot, careful to give enough room from the line of motorcycles. The last thing I wanted to do as anger anyone of the owners, even if I knew them or not. There were some cars strewn in the lot, but not many.

I took the jacket off, setting it in the passenger seat before I hopped out of the driver’s side. I adjusted the grey sweatshirt over my ripped black pants. I strode toward the entrave with a purpose, the dirt chrunching beneath my bright red sneakers. the wooden board creaked as I ascended the steps, the distorted music growing louder. I could easily recognise the sound of glasses slamming to a wooden surface. The rattle of balls breaking over a felt surface. The melodic sounds of laughter and light. A classic dive bar full of locals who had gone there for years.

Upon entering, it only confirmed my suspicions. They were all there, everyone from the auto-shop, wether they were seated at the one large booth in the corner, or playing pool, even throwing darts. They hadn’t noticed me by the looks of it, though the woman behind the bar had looked up from the mug she was cleaning.

“Welcome to the Witch’s Covent, I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” her accent was eastern European from the soudns of it; although not as thick as most. I’ve heard Natasha talking to her mother over the phone and that woman’s words are indecipherable even when she is speaking english.

“I new around here; even though its been quite a while since I’ve been here.” I shrugged.

“So you’re the one I’ve been hearing so much about.” she lit up like a light bulb. Her long brown hair bouncing slightly at the movement.

“Whose been talking about me?” I could chuckle awkwardly in response.

“Oh please, the whole town has been a buzz. Ever since you stood up to Rumlow, no one has been able to get enough.”

“Are you sure it’s not from those idiots,” I gestured to Sam and Scott trying to play pool while giggling like drunken school kids.

“Actually it’s you neighbor who won’t shut up about you.” She slid out glass, preparing to pour a dark liquid in its contents.

“I’ll have whiskey if you don’t mind,” I said before a drop cold pour out. She tilted her head back, eyeing me with a smile.

“I see why he likes you,” she said with a sly smile as she went to grab a bottle of whiskey.

“Wait, he likes me?” I snorted.

“Given from what his friends tell me; yes he does. I heard he let you ride with him last week.” she poured the desired drink. I gratefully took in in my hands, tracing my thumb over the rim.

“I did, though he didn’t really give me much choice.” I nodded my head to the side; “When we got there Steve looked paler than a ghost.”

“That’s because Bucky never lets anyone on his bike.” she said, returning to her taks of cleaning the glasses. My head shot up, eyes wide.

“Really, cause he doesn’t have a car.”

“No he does. He never uses it though.” she chided.

“It’s not in his garage.”

“No, he keeps it in his backyard. One of his continous projects.”

“You know him?”

“Everyone here pretty much grew up together. We’ve all known each ohter since we were kids. The only acceptions are Sam, Scott, and Thor. Sam was in Bucky’s squad. Scott moved here to be closer to his daughter, and Thor? Well, no one really knows with him.” She shrugged.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but did anything happen last week?”

“Its a roadside bar, you will have to be more specific,” Wanda gave me a mischevious look.

“Look, after Bucky fixed my truck; Steve and the others pulled up. All I got out of them was that there was a problem over here.” I gaged her reaction, watching as she stopped cleaning the glass in her hand.

“There was a fight,” she shrugged, “One of Brock’s buddies sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.” she set the glass back with its companions.

“Is that all you’re going to tell me,” I sighed, knowing she was still hiding quite a bit.

“It’s best if they tell you yourself,” she smiled, going back to some other customers who sat at the bar. I recognized one of them from when Brock tried to intimidate me back at the coffee shop. I gave him a hard glare before sipping on my whiskey.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the mysterious new girl,” Speak of the devil. Mr. Local pulled up a stool on the other side of me, effectively blocking me from moving away from his croney.

“Rumlow,” I heard Wanda ground her teeth, “You know the rules. This is neutral territory.” she said sternly.

“I know, Salem, calm down. I’m here to have some fun.” he slung his arm over the back of my stool, causing to move awkwardly in order to avoid it.

“That remains to be seen,” she poured a low grade beer for the man and slammed it down on the counter infront of him.

“How’s your brother? Do you still use a oiuja board to talk to him?” He arched a brow as he brought the mug up to his lips. I exchanging glances between the two, watching as Wanda’s nostrils flared up before she walked away, muttering something in her native tongue under her breathe.

I could only hunch my shoulders, keeping a firm grip on my glass of whiskey, carefully eying either man beside me.

“So, not so defiant out in public are you. What’s on your mind sweetheart,” Rumlow asked, his voicemaking my skin crawl.

“Wether or not I should punch you into next week.” I sipped my whiskey, my gaze burning into the shelves of alcohol before me.

I heard the door open, well, slam was more like it. The light casting my shadow over the numerous bottles. I looked over my shoulder, finding my neighbor heaving for air as his hand was upon the door.

“So, you got the message I take it,” Rumlow swivled around in his chair, a smug expression on his features. I looked over my shoulder again, utterly terrified at the murderous glare my neighbor sent him.

“You got some fucking nerve Brock. If you wanted your ass kicked you sure got one,” Barnes began marching toward him. The burly man on my left, the croney, stood up ubruptly, his chair falling to the floor with a loud thud. As a couter, everyone from the shop stood up, their chairs schreeching loudly.

“Ah, ah- this is neutral territory, Barnes.” Rumlow scolded the man mockingly. The arm across the back of my stool suddenly pulled hard. Yanking me around to face my neighbor.

“Wouldn’t wanna ruin the neighborhood now would we?” Rumlow asked. I could only stare wide eyed at my neighbor as his nostrils flared.

“She has no part in this Rumlow, leave her alone.” Steve said from behind his friend.

“Oh, really? Last I checked Rogers, your hand ain’t up his ass so stop speaking for him.”

I watched as the two men glared at each other. The tension was like gasoline, itching for a match. Any reason to fight was a good reason, no matter how stupid it was in concept. I was not about to be that cause.

I smacked Rumlow’s hand off my shoulder, standing up from my chair. I paid Wanda for the drink, even though she said it was on the house.

“You won’t mind if I do something stupid would you?” I whispered to her.

“Please do,” She smiled, as if she already knew what I was about to do. I smiled, with my hand still on the glass. I looked to the side, seeing that Rumlow was still glaring at Barnes.

“Hey Rumlow,” I called him, making the man turn around. I threw the whiskey directly at his face, watching in satisfaction as fell out of his chair in pain.

“You fucking bitch!” He writhed on the floor, flailing as he tried to get the alcohol out of his eyes.

“I’ve had enough of this,” I muttered, brushing past my neighbor, delibrately ignoring the look he was giving me. I walked out the door, grumbling as I went toward my vehicle.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait up!” I heard my neighbor call after me.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk to me!” I said, not bothering to turn around as I continued toward Oliver.

“Hey, hey, hey,” His footsteps grew louder and I felt his hand grasp my arm. I yanked myself out of my grip, finally turning to face him.

Why the hell did this man have to be so good looking.

“What!” I said, the anger boiling throuhgh my veins.

“What do you want, Bucky! One minute you are being all nice and neighborly, and the next you don’t even give me the time of day. I don’t care how you and Rumlow started fighting, I really don’t. But don’t drag me into your bullshit!” I ferociously poked my finger into his chest to annunciate my point.

I was snapped out of my reverie when his iron clad grip encomassed my wrist. The dull pain from loss of circulation was growing, sure to leave a bruise tomorrow morning. His expression was turning dark, and he had yet to say a word.

“Barnes, let me go.” I said, desperately trying to keep all of the memories from flooding through my head.

“No,” he said; “You need to listen to me.”

“Let. Me. Go.” I tried to pry out of his grip, but to no avail. He trudged through the heavy wind back toward the bar. I dug my heels into the earth, creating evident drag marks in the gravel lot.

“Bucky,” my tone turned desperate as he slung me around him. My back hitting the wall of the building that was cast in shadow.

“No! You listen to me.” His palms slammed on either side of my head; “Brock is dangerous, I don’t like his interest in you, and you need to stay away from him. I know you don’t like being told what to do, but for once in your stubborn life; just do this one thing.”

“What happened last week.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“He was here when I got there; bragging about how he had you wrapped around his finger. He was very explicit on what he wanted to do to you.” he ducked his head down, the light showcasing the faint yellow and greens of his bruised chin.

“I don’t care, you were with me the whole day practically. Why the hell were you marching off to war with him that day.”

“He was rubbing salt on an open wound.”

“Bucky,” my hands cupped his chin, guiding his line of sight back to me; “You don’t have to talk about it.”

His bright blue eyes locked with my own. They glistening in the fading sunlight. He released a sigh through his nostrils, his gaze still turned downwards to his feet.

“Well aren’t you two sweet.” Sam’s voice made both of us jolt. Bucky clamored away from me, his chest heaving.

“We tossed Rumlow out, by the way. Not sure if you saw it while you were lost in each other.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Any reason why you wanted to tell us?” Bucky grumbled, hands upon his hips. Sam shrugged in response.

“Not at all, just nice to get the jump on you for a change.”

“You’re a dick.”

“So are you.”

“I’m gonna head home,” I decided to make my exit. I walked toward Oliver, pulling out Bucky’s jacket. Even a few feet away I could still here the two bickering.

“Shut up Samuel!”

“You first James!”

Thankfully, my footsteps caused the two to cease as I walked toward them. As soon as Wilson saw what I had in my hand, he smirked at Bucky.

“I hadn’t had the chance to give this back to you.” I handed the leather item to Barnes, who only gazed at me earnestly.

“T-thanks,” was all he could muster.

“I’ll see you round,” I hugged Sam goodbye. I turned back to my neighbor, giving him a small peck on his bruise. I pulled back to find him wide eyed and turning red as a tomato.

I smiled as I walked backwards, “See you around, neighbor.” I waved, getting into my vehicle.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky #biker!au #james buchanan barnes #oof #sio #marvel imagines #I'm seeing endgame friday OOF #marvel x reader #whee #I'm alive #escapism IV

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cherrywineandmagic · 6 years

Text

Doing Fine - Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and his pregnant wife decide to visit Diana and end up running into his father as well.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Long overdue for the beautiful @reid-effect. I hope you like it, love <33

Your pregnancy was a beautiful, experience. Spencer was at your every beck and call, always eager to make sure his favorite lady was comfortable and happy. He’d initially call out of work to take care of you on your worst days and It was a sweet sentiment that you appreciated. Now that you were headed towards your last months, Spencer had retired as a field agent altogether and instead worked as a long distance adviser for the BAU, just a phone call away whenever they needed his insight.

The only person who seemed to be more excited about having a baby around than Spencer was his mother. She was calling you nearly every day, sometimes twice if her memory failed her. You always assured her that you were doing well and that she would see her grandson very soon as the final months were approaching.

“How much longer?” Diana asked as she watched you caress your stomach. Spencer had stepped out momentarily to answer a call from his team, leaving you two alone.

“A little less than three months,” you replied with a soft smile as you stared lovingly at your belly. Inside was your son, growing bigger and stronger every day.

“I remember when I was pregnant with Spencer,” Diana shared. Your eyes lit up at the idea of her pregnant, unaware of just how wonderful her boy would turn out to be. “I had morning sickness for weeks before it just stopped abruptly. It might have had something to do with the lecture I gave him while he was in there. I remember, I told him “Now little man, do you really think it’s a nice thing to make your mother sick so often?” And just like that, it stopped,” she paused, her voice soft as she remembered. “He was a good boy, even before he was out in the world.”

Diana could see the look of adoration in your eyes as you thought of her son, and then looked towards your own. “I don’t doubt it.”

“He was never much of a crier. Simple lullabies were enough to quiet him down. Hopefully, yours is the same. Lord knows how a baby’s wail can keep you up,” she laughed, remembering the few instances when Spencer had appeared like any other newborn, crying endlessly into the night. You smiled brightly at the thought of Spencer as a baby.

“Mom, we gotta go,” Spencer said as he reappeared.

“Everything okay?” You asked as he helped you stand. He looked exhausted.

“Yes, everything is fine. It’s just getting a little late so we should head out. Thanks for seeing us, Mom.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I love seeing my kids,” she beamed. Diana Reid was a kind woman and had opened her heart to you the second she saw the way Spencer looked at you. You were the daughter she never had but had always imagined.

“Thank you, Diana,” you returned her smile with just as much adoration. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Oh, Spence! They’ve got milkshakes!” You exclaimed as you stopped just outside a small diner. “Please?”

Spencer chuckled, knowing just how hard your cravings could hit.

“Sure, we can stop for some milkshakes,”

Suddenly it dawned on you just how little you had eaten throughout the day, and just how dehydrated your body felt. As soon as the thought entered your mind it was as if your body reacted accordingly, your stomach rumbling loudly and a sharp pain running through the back of your head.

“You ok?” Spencer asked as he noticed the sharp inhale you took. You merely nodded, plastering on a smile and shoving his worries away.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you assured.

Within minutes you were both seated and your order of two strawberry shakes had been taken. It wasn’t that much later when Spencer’s phone rang again, causing him to step out in order to take the work-related call. You had busied yourself with folding a napkin as you waited for his return that you almost didn’t realize that another man had slipped into his seat across from you.

“Hello, I’m-”

“William,” you breathed as your eyes widened in recognition. This was the man who you’d only ever heard of briefly from Spencer, a man that brought him so much sadness and anger. You’d noticed the way he would close off whenever you asked about his father and had done investigating of your own, if you would go as far as to call facebook stalking that. You knew his face well and yet it was a face you’d never once wished to run into. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The older man winced at your tone. You undoubtedly knew of him and heard of the abandonment stories, all of which rarely ever painted him in a good light.

“I saw you leave after seeing Diana. I’ve...been meaning to talk to you. Spencer is my son, and this baby you’re having is going to be my grandson, and I just want to be a part of his life.”

“This is not your grandson!” you hissed, appalled at the fact he felt so entitled to a place in your son’s life. “You! You don’t get to do this! You abandoned Spencer! You can’t just waltz back in because he’s having a child!”

“He’s my blood,” he argued, eyeing around the diner. The waitress that had taken your order was keeping an eye on your table, her hands ready to call the police if need be. Spencer was nowhere in sight.

“Spencer was your blood and you had no issue forgetting he existed,” you spat as your anger boiled inside of you. “What kind of man does that to his kid? You think you deserve a place in our lives now? We’re completely fine pretending you don’t exist.”

You hissed as another sharp pain ran through your head. This time you felt a bit woozy as if your body was ready to simply give out.

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked as he approached the table, his suspicions rising as he saw a man across from you. He stopped in his tracks as he recognized the face that turned towards him. “Dad?”

“He was just leaving,” you spoke as you shot the man a glare. You sighed deeply, feeling yourself begin to rock in your seat. Spencer caught the small gesture and rushed to your side.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asked worriedly as he rushed to your side.

“I don’t feel too well. I’ll probably feel better once I get something to drink.”

Spencer looked unconvinced at your response. He stood and threw down a twenty dollar bill, helping you up.

“No, we’re going to the nearest hospital.”

“No, Spenc-”

“We’re going.”

You nodded weakly at his tone, knowing he already had his mind set.

“I can drive you,” William quickly offered. Spencer nodded silently, his worry for you outweighing his disdain for his father.

“This is your fault! Look at how you stressed her out!” Spencer argued in the hospital room. You cringed at the loudness of his voice as his father did the same. Anger was never something one would get used to with Spencer.

“It’s not my fault! I just wanted to meet my daughter in law before you had the kid,” William argued. “It’s my right.”

“Your right?” Spencer scoffed. “You didn’t bother to wonder why you weren’t invited to our wedding? Why I didn’t want you in my kid’s life? We’re doing fine without you, I have been my whole life since you walked out of it. You do nothing but bring heartache.”

William remained quiet for a moment as he realized that his life choices had finally caught up with him. He’d chosen his own life and career over that of his son when it had mattered most, and now he was meant to live without him. His eyes were glued to the floor as he nodded, knowing nothing he said would be enough to change the situation.

“I understand,” his gaze lifted up to meet yours, “I’m sorry for any harm I’ve caused today.”

And like that, he was gone.

Spencer sighed deeply, his eyes closing as he attempted to collect himself. He hadn’t meant to explode the way he had but seeing his dad was always emotional. Including a pregnant wife who felt suddenly ill, it was expected that he would have a little less tolerance than normal.

“I’m sorry about that,” Spencer apologized as he took a seat beside the hospital bed. You’d been hooked up to an IV and were simply waiting on the doctor now.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assured him. “I get it.”

Spencer immediately stood when the doctor walked in with your chart.

“Well, everything looks fine. She was just a little dehydrated and her blood pressure dropped. Just make sure you get plenty of food, water, and rest from now on.”

“Thank you,” you both said in unison. The doctor left to move on to his next patient, leaving the two of you alone.

“You ready to go home?” Spencer asked.

“More than ready,” you replied with a sigh. “Although I never did get my milkshake.”

Spencer laughed at the fact your cravings never took a day off. They were almost as stubborn as you.

“We’ll get you one as soon as possible. I promise.”

#for jami #look at me posting in the middle of the night like always #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #mgg #reid

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atlaslain · 5 years

Note

kicks down the door to ur ask box a day late FIVE TIMES KISSED FOR FAIRHART PLEASE

send ‘five times kissed’ for a drabble / @revolverized

he’ll hate himself for this later.

it’s 2am, rain’s begun to fall, and squall’s kissing him like he despises him. he tastes like the rich-smoky drinks he knocked back at the honey bee, and a little like the blood at the corner of his mouth where zack punched him. it’s all teeth and tongues, no artistry or sentiment to be found — just the roughness of brick wall against his spine and squall’s hands pushing him against it.

are you happy now? zack asks himself. this is what he wanted, isn’t it? for squall to want him. for the attraction to not be one-sided and pathetic. for squall to touch him and kiss him and not regret it later.

god, it’s going to hurt when he regrets it.

the last vestiges of tipsiness are fading now and what zack should do is call this whole thing off before he starts getting hopeful. he draws back, bangs his head against the wall in the process, barely registers the dull throb of pain. he’s too wired, feeling too much. heat rushes down his spine when he takes in the answering want in squall’s expression, and he knows he’s not going to stop this.

“wanna… come back to my place? to get out of the rain.”

there’s a strange, sharp stab of hurt when squall nods his agreement. neither of them is trying to make this anything better than an angry one-night stand. zack should — he should, he should try, he should ask for more. he wants romance and trust and for squall to want him for longer than a night.

but he’s far too weak to turn down the scraps of attention he can have.

ii.

the awkward thing is, zack can’t stay away from the church.

he wants to see aeris, to help with her flower-selling, to be here in case anything happens. he won’t surrender that simply because it’s difficult to meet squall’s eyes without remembering his shameful sneak from zack’s room. since he refuses to opt for avoidance and is far too proud to act like it never happened, zack goes down the defiant route instead and shows up at the church bearing the single sock squall left on the floor of zack’s bedroom. he shoves it into the other’s chest like a gift, flashes a sharp grin, and proceeds to ignore him for the rest of the day.

most of it, anyway.

they usually spar, before zack leaves the church. it’s become a tentative thing between them, an unspoken plan. it’d be better to conveniently ‘forget’ and leave, but that’d be akin to admitting it’s awkward to stay. so zack approaches squall, sword drawn and angled in his direction, and raises an expectant brow.

it goes about as well as one might expect.

zack, for one, is not anticipating the volume of anger he’s feeling. he just about slips into SOLDIER mode, mako energy frothing in his veins and unused power sparking at his fingertips. right — high emotional states do this. he shouldn’t have fought.

it goes beyond sparring; zack’s barely human as he finally knocks squall’s weapon from his hands and drives him down to the ground, buster sword at his throat. panic grips him the next instant and he flings the blade aside, dropping to his knees to assess for damage.

“shit — shit. i didn’t mean…” he gets an arm around squall’s shoulders, eases him into a sitting position. he looks — well, like a guy who took the full brunt of a SOLDIER attack. and he’s meeting zack’s eyes like he doesn’t give a fuck, like he’s still not scared of the monster in human skin with the too-bright eyes. zack’s heart skitters, agitated, and he finds himself leaning in without ever meaning to. one second he’s enraged and the next, he’s startled as squall’s hands find his shoulders and they’re kissing.

he can’t escape the feeling he’s messing this up horribly.

this time, zack finds the strength to pull away. his chest aches. he licks his lips. “no,” he mumbles. “we can’t keep doin’ this every time we fight, y’know?”

he doesn’t want to know if squall’s disappointed — refuses to look. but the bitterness and the anger feel less like thorns in his chest now, and he doesn’t make a single nasty comment as he drags squall off for healing.

iii.

“i — argh, i really gotta go! i’m sorry. i’m really sorry. i’ll be back real soon, and … then, can we talk? about us.

with typically awful timing, he’s off on a mission. nibelheim. some trouble with reactors and vanishing operatives. zack wishes they’d wait. he doesn’t want to leave now that things are finally working out. he took squall on a successful date, glowed with the happiness of it all the way back to the shinra building — and then discovered the mission, and its unknown timescale. he could be gone for weeks, realistically speaking. and it’s dumb that he’s immediately flooded with the fear that he’ll get back and squall will have decided all over again to regret him.

zack fidgets, unwilling to leave. maybe they could talk now? he could squeeze in a ‘please-will-you-be-my-boyfriend’ talk, right? and maybe a ‘by-the-way-i-think-i-love-you’ talk. or is that too fast? definitely too fast. too fast like his heartbeat, thudding away in his chest as he tries to convince himself to walk away from this beautiful man who’s looking at him like he’s worth something.

“kiss for luck?” he asks, flashing a winning smile. he’s rewarded with a look he thinks he’d describe as fond-exasperated. he wants to see that look all the time, because it seems to precede a hearty kiss. it’s so soft now, the way they kiss — still that old heat, that firm touch, but gentled and exactly what zack’s always wanted. he grips squall’s shirt, unwilling to let go. “two kisses for luck?”

but his PHS rings and he knows he’s out of time.

“damn it. to be continued when i get back.” he sneaks a kiss to the cheek anyway. “see you soon! don’t go slipping into the honey bee if you get lonely without me!”

and then he’s gone.

iv.

he can’t decide if he’s in for a punch or a kiss.

squall’s been rather aggressively loving in the short time since they reunited. zack, for his part, has been confused mostly because he’s fairly certain he’s supposed to be dead. his brain keeps snagging on that part. he’s dead. died. riddled with bullets. bled out. never got to come back to squall.

not to be a horrible pessimist, but zack’s stuck wondering if it’s even real. everything feels strange and distant, he’s incapable of beginning to understand this talk about gods and wars and worlds, and the only time reality tethers him down is when squall’s holding him. the man can’t seem to settle on an emotion and is alternating wildly between angry sobs and never-ending hugs. zack clings to him through it all, tears burning his eyes, and prays to whatever cosmic beings are listening to just — let him have this.

just in case he disappears, though — he has so much to say.

“hey…” he tips squall’s chin up, strokes tears from his cheeks. “i love you.”

there. he knows now. whatever happens, squall knows he’s loved.

when they kiss, it tastes of salt and tears. they keep stopping to laugh disbelievingly against each others’ lips, barely capable of accepting that they’re here and they’re together. they have a second chance.

they’re going home.

their reward for their part in the cosmic war, for unwitting roles as gods’ puppets. even zack, armed with spiritus’ promise he’ll live again, is going home. they’ve won.

“can you believe it?” he murmurs to squall, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him in for a kiss. he lingers there, humming contentedly, as the light begins to envelop them. “we’re goin’ home. i’ll see you soon.”

but ‘home’ is a different world for squall, and zack understands too late as he loses his grip and his fingers slip from squall’s. he catches a glint of panic in the eyes he knows so well, and then it’s gone.

zack is alone, laying in a puddle of his own blood, atop a darkened clifftop. his clothes are ripped and bloodied with bullet-holes and he is barely breathing through the pain.

above, a helicopter descends. deepground beckons.

#revolverized #● fanmail [ answered ].#hey so u asked for pain #is ur heart sufficiently ground to dust or should i step on it some more #the world can’t have my heart; i left it with you ♡ zack & squall / revolverized

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rqs902 · 5 years

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qcyn ep 11 -- can you believe the finale is tomorrow?!?

this whole texting section was so funnyyyy and i will honorably mention yet again that yao chi texting mc jin in english is so sweet

li ronghao torturing xu longhan iS HIALRIOSUS

but i also pity the poor child LOOL

wait can we talk about chen tao’s spelling timao LOL

and chen sijian’s face LOLLL

omg yao mingming’s message is so aww... he mentions liking yixing since he debuted in 2012.......

omgggg fjj and wang yi theyre all so cute and screamy and i loveee

WAIT CAN WE TALK ABOUT LIN MO AND WANG YI’S HAPPY DANCE

oh gosh the8 is really showing us how hard seventeen works to get their choreo super in sync wow they really must work so hard.... wow minghao giving up the center position bc he knows how important this is to these kids... he deserves more recognition as a great mentor wow

oh my goodness.......... li zhenning’s voice shaking as he says to shi mingze “if you can get into top 20, then you’ll have hope” is.... the most heartbreaking......... knowing that shi mingze doesnt.......... they literally were smiling as they went off into this corner to talk and are crying by the time they come out..... can you just imagine how much sadness and stress is constantly looming over these kids’ heads and tearing down at their mental health?? its all hidden and suppressed, but with really fragile borders, so as soon as you pick at the walls, their raw emotions come bursting through...

this just reminds me that even tho shi mingze is their cool, handsome leader, hes still the youngest in bg project............

can we please talk about how considerate of a friend li zhenning is and has been??

and this all took place before zhenning ever ranked into top 9.... so to them, this opportunity wouldve been really important for zhenning too, bc maybe he wouldve really needed it to get into top 9. but at least we know now.... he has enough popularity that they made the correct choice and hopefully more people will notice shi mingze as a result

ZHAN YU’S ARMSSSSSSSSS bo yuan’s hair!! i really like it!!!! wen yechen in pink!!!!!! his voice is so addicting i just wanna hear more of it... it dont matter that zhenning isnt center, he still shines :)) wait wu zelin’s voice i really liked it in retreat and we get even more vocal-like wu zelin here! thats a realy nice purple on qunfeng, hes really rocking this look SHI MINGZE I SAW THAT WINK frick minghao’s dancing is just so satisfying to watch wowow

man he looks so good

wow i live for random zhan yu reactions (imma just collect them here LOL)

after journey and mc jin’s friendship is so cute hahahaha

ok i see why elle thinks chen tao is a visual

wang zhe and wu chengze have both really improved in their stage presence throughout the course of this show aw deng chaoyuan looks the happiest we’ve ever seen him on stage haha zhou shiyuan’s voice is really so cool

i guess we’ll never find out why gu landi is in mc jin’s group..... is it bc yao chi is here? im sorry i love this song and i love a lot of the kids in this group but can you just imagine how much better this stage would’ve been if it were with more kids who had experience rapping....? last year’s “zero” stage just made such a bigger impression on me...... this is actually really such a contrast im---

ALKSJDLAKSJDLK CHEN SIJIAN’S RAPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE JUST DID THATT!!!!!!!!!! DID YOU SEE THAT!??!?!1//!ASDLKJALSKJJ OMGGOHS AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!! CHEN SIJIAN JUST BLEW EVERYOEN OUT OF THE WATER YOU BEST BET HE DID WOWOW HE JSUT I CANT BELEIEVE HE JSUT INCLUDED AT LEAST 4 NAMES WOW

IM WEN YECHEN

chen sijian is really the best at writing raps about his bros wow and like also he has the most creative lyrics i really appreciate wow such talent hes amazing!!!

a lost baby..

UNDERAPPRECIATED GU LANDI VISUALS

the face of a legend

ever since i saw the “time” ballad version, ive had a sneaking suspicion that lin yuzhi is secretly one of the strongest vocalists on this show..... this is the face of talent

idk whose outfit is distracting me more, xu bingchao or xixi’s LOL shao haofan looks so nice here wow and ding feijun is so adorable even tho this is a more mature concept but i still cant see him as anything but a cute child

maybe its the way they cut up the lines but idk this song didnt really show off their vocal abilities that well..... sorry xixi :( i think xixi’s voice deserved better time to shine on this show...... his and feng junjie’s voices are actually both so nice i was so impressed when i saw them singing in the oaca clips

this koala ad makes me very uncomfortable......

wenhan reaches into the box and pulls out..... costco brand blueberries??!?!?/1 hHhahahhahHAHAHHA

lol yao chi being so sentimental... oh look at this photo of me with bubbles on my face (me: oh no here it come--) OH YEA ALSO CHECK OUT THIS FACE WASH!

wow kou cong!! a face i havent seen in a while aw! i cant believe they filmed all the yaa eps while they all still had colorful hair lol i guess ill never get to see lin mo on yaa /sigh/ or actually any of the tyger members cept jia yi.........

HAHAHAHAHHA YESSSSSSSSS THEY INCLUDED A CLIP OF CHEN SIJIAN’S PHONE CALL !!!! HIS WAS HILARIOUSS!!!! HAHAHAHA I LOVED HOW SIMILAR HIS FAN SEEMED TO BE TO HIM HAHAH

AAHH AS SOON AS IT GETS TO LIN MO’S ITS THE SAD MUSIC TIME

his was the most heartwarming call.... no bias LOL

feng junjie singing “the great artist” just---

this boy will never stop with the meme faces hHAHAHA

im surprised this section was so short lol i was expecting them to spend more time on this group...

SUN ZELIN SUN ZELIN SUN ZELIN YEA

jolin’s eyes are so wow

feng junjie with the voice!!!!!!1

JOLIN THE QUEEN

still kinda wish jia yi had more opportunity to sing on this show......... hes like second main vocalist to zhan yu in tyger but i feel like he hasnt gotten to show his voice much :( he did really well tho!!! he really has impressive stage presence

omg lin mo’s super shy “1 day” ahhhhh

omg wang jiayi looks like hes about to cry... the poor child....

yixing reaching out to apologize to them.... hes really so caring towards them...... wang jiayi just needs more confidence!! i believe in him too

where did lin mo get this white cap from? lol he chose the pink one..... on a related note, im so happy lin mo got to be in yixing’s group, bc from the beginning with namanana hes really really tried so hard to earn yixing’s recognition, im sure it means a lot to him to be able to learn from him like this and share a stage with him

yao mingming too, i feel like he really values yixing’s recognition as well

i think all the kids in this group had to have known that picking yixing’s group would be the most tiring and require the most effort, but i think choosing this group regardless just really shows they came here to learn

A HAPPY BABYYY

omg like yixing is really /teaching/ them and i appreciate that

lin mo and xu fangzhou’s voices!!!!!!

OOF IM SO READY FOR THIS OUTFIT

ASLDKALSDKJLAK HE WINKED!!!!!!!!!!!

what is this awkward closeup

why does fangzhou have wings lol

i feel like theres a lot of random awkward closeups of lin mo.... should i be happy about this??? LOL i dont think theyre all very flattering but at the same time at least hes got closeups....???? ? ??

OOF HES GETTING MORE LINES THAN I EXPECTED TOO

you know how ive talked about how i love how much detail lin mo puts into his dancing, including even his slight head tilts? LOOK ANOTHER HEAD TILT

HAHAHAHHAHA GUAN YUE’S EYES GOT SO BIG HAHAHHAHA OMGGG

ooof lin mo getting to sing the chorus with yixing im !!!!!! im sure hes so grateful for this opportunity wow also i think i mentioned this with namanana but i really think lin mo suits yixing’s dance style, like its a style that hes pulls off really well, so i think he got to shine a bit in this performance :’)

ok i havent said this yet but what is with that thick black fade at the top of the screen its so annoying??? like why you gotta cover the top of their heads???

wow we’re really getting a lot of random lin mo shots hahahha is this iqiyi repenting their wrongs from ‘spirit of the knight’ i almost am surprised how yao mingming isnt getting the most screentime but then i remember iqiyi has never favored yao mingming........ /sigh

AYYY WENXUAN AND LIN MO THE BUDDIES

just look at how perfectly tilted / well-positioned lin mo’s head is wow and that gaze wow i just love his stage presence

yea im gonna have to rewatch this perf to gif the lin mo moments.... maybe after the finale tomorrow when ill be like oop lin mo didnt make it in oh well let me just wallow in his talent that the audience slept on by drowning myself in lin mo content (its not like i do that every day already)

LOL THAT CAMERA SPIN WAS SUCH A FAIL YOU CANT SEE ANYONE CEPT WENXUAN ADJUSTING HIS MIC HAHAHHAHA ok on a side note tho im glad wenxuan got to be in this group too!! yuehua’s dancer getting to show us his dancing again :’) and we all know he was discouraged being reshuffled into “maze” and i just wanna say wenxuan deserves more credit for being able to really go out of his comfort zone and pull off the cute concept in “maze” well even tho he didnt want to accept it at first!

HES PERFECT

hey yall is it just me or did you see lin mo’s eyes in that really fast flashy bit at the end of the preview for the finale? HAHHAHAHA i couldnt even screenshot it bc it was so fast, but i swear i saw his eyes so i think he was in it LOOOL

JSUT KIDDING I WENT BACK AND TRIED AGAIN AND I GOT IT

I KNEW I SAW HIS EYES HAHAHAHHAHA

oo i havent mentioned this before but i really like the sound of chen sijians voice, even when speaking...

OMG GU LANDI

OMGGGG MY CHILD YE ZIMING IN FREAKING TARZAN NEXT DOOR??!???

THIS IS TOO MUCH!!!!!!! THANKS FOR REMINDING US HOW IQIYI TOTALLY SLIGHTED THIS BOY OUT OF GETTING INTO TOP 35

aw honestly i wonder if lian huaiwei will really not make it tomorrow.....

omg sun zelin in the ending credits!!!!

OMG ZHAN YU TOOOOOOO

OOF LOOK AT ZHAN YU’S JAWLINE (ooops sorry yechen ahhahhhaa)

they must really like this part of the choreo??

BUT I LOVE THIS LOOK ON YECHEN YESSS

lol is this lin mo’s back

tbh im surprised they didnt include lin mo in the ending credits but i think they were trying to make up for the loss of yao mingming time earlier LOOL

ok well i have about 10 hrs until i gotta wake up to watch the finale so.... now to go watch fjj and hcx’s goodnight dachang HAHAH

#rants #this got long... but idk why i decided to include pictures this time #maybe itll make it easier to follow HAHAHA #mentor collab was so much fun last season bc everyone already knew their fate / whether they would get eliminated #so it seemed like they were just enjoying the stage #this time i was worried since it was before elims that they wouldnt be as fun but i think #even tho the competition was still looming in the background they still proved that theyre just as fun of a bunch of kids!!

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ratretro · 6 years

Text

Under The Light Of The Full Moon - NaLu FanFiction

Title: Under The Light Of The Full Moon

Pairing: NaLu

Prompt: NaLu Week Day 6 - Sensation

Rating: T;

None of these characters are owned by me, they are all owned by the wonderful Hiro Mashima!

A/N:

Honestly im just using this as an excuse to write werewolf lucy because goddamnit ive wanted to for an eternity also I forgot I wrote this so here y’all go im hella late to the party lmao

FF.net

The air was thick with the scent of dragon, and against Lucy's better judgement, she decided to follow it to the end of its trail. Tonight, she was at the peak of her strength, and every sense was on fire as she followed her curiosity. Dragons were secretive creatures, and very rarely caught doing who-knows-what in the forest. Personally, she'd never met one. She only knew the scent from descriptions her favorite pack member gave her. For all she knew it may not even be a dragon she was hunting.

Well, if it wasn't a dragon she could worry about that later. Instead, she followed the enticing scent of smoky firewood, and an underlying sweet smell she couldn't quite place. If she could, Lucy would be humming right now as she vibrated with excitement. This was the perfect time after all. With the full moon hung high in the sky; vibrant and clear with no signs of clouds. As a werewolf, she was in peak performance which meant if needed she could make her escape without fear. She was intelligent and quick, only second to her packmate, Jet.

A clearing appeared up ahead on the very edge of her territory. If she tread too far it could incite a large-scale war, and she wasn't about to be the cause of another dispute. Her father was the pack leader after all, and that meant she had to be the perfect lady. What a load of bullshit. What was the point of having wolf blood if you couldn't truly be free?

The bushes rustled as she pushed through them to enter the opening where the large creature no doubt was hiding. She shook her entire body to get the leaves from her fur, and as soon as she was absolutely certain they were gone, she gave an aggravated huff. It was then that she lifted her head to look at what she considered to be her prey since she'd been stalking it for 30 minutes now.

Surprised. That was the emotion Lucy Heartfilia felt as she looked upon what could not possibly be a dragon. His hair was a shade of pink she'd only ever seen when passing the flower shop next to her favorite bookstore. His skin was sun-kissed even in the shade of silver that came from the pearl in the sky above her. Truly the scene was breathtaking, and yet the scent that radiated from his body was the same one she'd followed all the way here.

Now, it could be that he was a drake. She'd heard stories from the elder pack members of dragons who'd taken human mates, and given birth to half-breeds. How did that work? She had absolutely no idea. Who was she to question another species' mating rituals anyway?

Perhaps, he was a half-breed. He did hold attributes similar to a dragon. Sharp, curved black horns protruding from his skull, bright red scales moving across his cheeks and up to his temples, the claws where hands should be. Everything screamed dragon, except, that he wasn't a giant lizard like she had expected. Perhaps, she should be grateful she hadn't run into the fully formed dragon that her packmates had been so scared of.

"What are ya doin' here?" it was a simple question, soft and barely heard above the gust of wind that tore through the clearing. Of course, Natsu wasn't expecting an answer from a wolf. He'd never attracted wildlife before so he would consider this one to be rare. He took a moment longer to stare the creature down in hopes it would run off, and leave him to his own thoughts.

Although, a deeply buried part of him yearned for the company, and hoped the female wolf would stay. She was gorgeous after all. Her fur was long and seemed to be painted by the starlight above as tones of blue and silver drenched her smooth coat.

Though, it was the eyes that pulled him in. Dark chocolate. Normally, wolves of the color white had eyes in shades of blue, yellow, and even on occasion brown and blue at the same time. She had solid brown. It was unique, and he found himself smiling before raking his claws through his hair.

"Ya know, I'm kinda glad you're here. I didn't really want to be alone tonight." Lucy couldn't respond to him, but he seemed to recognize and accept that. He seemed deep in some kind of thought. Obviously, a sad one. She hoped her presence would help him in some way, besides she didn't want to hunt or run around just to get dirty and have to scrub the mud off her skin in the morning.

It was a slow, graceful trot as she met him in the center of the clearing, and sat beside him to share his company. Maybe he'd even speak more, she liked the sound of his voice. It had a soothing calm to it even if it was rough around the edges.

Natsu let himself fall to the grass with an aggravated sigh as he looked for the words to say. He was talking to a woodland creature who couldn't even talk back, in the middle of the night no less. To say he felt a little crazy would be an understatement. Hey, maybe he needed this. Maybe he needed to let out his emotions. Even if it was only to a lone wolf in the middle of the forest.

He was startled as the creature curled into his side and laid her head on his chest. There was some blinking, a crinkle where eyebrows would normally be, and then an annoyed huff. Was she telling him to continue? He supposed it wouldn't hurt to do so.

"I don't want to be king, ya know?" King was much higher than Pack Leader, but she could understand the sentiment.

"I love Igneel, and being his son is great. But I love the wind through my wings, and fighting with the younger members, visiting the towns as I please. Ya can't do that as a king. Ya gotta be responsible." She longed for the freedom he spoke of. They were different in that regard. He had the freedom she sought. To have that ripped away would certainly make her aggravated as well. She gave a small whine to try and signal her agreement, and sympathy. Not being able to speak made this troublesome.

"Trying to make me feel better?" it sounded to him like she'd understood his plight in some way. He was glad for that much.

"Thank you." Soft, but serious. He meant it, and even if the wolf didn't understand him he appreciated her willingness to listen to him. A noise went off in the distance: a howl. It was obviously the call of a wolf. Maybe one from her pack. White ears twitched, and then a small noise from her. It sounded like a ‘no' if he'd ever heard one.

The next howl was louder, and when she finally picked up her head, all she did was bark. Like a kid saying ‘I'm coming!' when their parent calls. The wolf eased up from her position and stretched; first backward and then forward.

"Will ya visit again?" Lucy's head tilted at the idea. She'd seen a dragon, thus her curiosity was quenched, but she hadn't thought about seeing him again. Her head tilted to one side, and then the other. Yes, she decided. She'd come again the next full moon.

The dragon sat up slowly, and as soon as his cheek was high enough she gave a soft nuzzle before turning and disappearing into the night. If she didn't get to the hideout soon her father would give her an earful. That much was certain.

Natsu, however, remained in the clearing till sun up, claw resting upon his cheek, and a soft smile on his lips.

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

Lucy was practically vibrating with excitement even as her packmate Levy stared at her from behind a book.

"Lu? Are you okay? You normally hate the full moon." A correct statement. The blonde nodded in agreement, but still, the feeling did not fade. She'd see him again tonight, surely he'd be in the clearing. She was betting on it, and Lucy was not one to lose a bet. They didn't call her ‘Lucky' Lucy Heartfilia for nothing after all.

Currently, she had her chin resting on her hands as she took in the strong smell of roasted coffee beans and whipped cream. Both of these, however, was second to an old book. The wonderful thing about this shop wasn't the café, although it's a nice bonus, it was really the fact that it was attached to a used bookstore.

Levy had already chosen a classic from the fiction section depicting a war between werewolves and vampires, where Lucy had opted for a more classic romance set in a world of wizards bonded together by loyalty and friendship in a place where they'd built a new family. She was excited to start and finish the book in the next few days.

"I do. Tonight is different though. It's special." The blonde was certain Levy would understand. Levy was the one who'd told her about how dragons smell. Though she'd thought there might be some fibbed details but she wouldn't question her on that.

"Oh. Meeting a boy are we?" she flinched which was all Levy needed. The blunette smirked.

"Hmm-hm. Who's this mystery man?" Levy was personally excited to see her friend intrigued by a male. She'd always talk about boyfriends but never seemed to have an interest in anyone.

"It's just… a man I met in the woods on my last run." The blonde averted her eyes from Levy's and waited for her friend to stop gawking.

"You just. Met a man? In the woods? As a wolf?" Levy recognized that Lucy had already explained that, but damnit she wanted elaboration.

"Between you and me, I followed the scent of a dragon like you said. And I found one!" her grin went from ear-to-ear. Levy swallowed, but her mouth was as dry as cotton. Her best friend had found a dragon in the woods, and subsequently gained interest in said dragon. There was no way Levy had heard right.

"A dragon. In the woods." She repeated, but as a statement instead of a question as if willing her friend to continue.

"Yes. His scales were bright red, and he smelled of smoke. But the kind you bbq meat in, not a forest fire." Lucy finally gave Levy the information she needed to understand what had happened.

"You met the Fire Dragon King's son?" Levy was dumbfounded by her friend's unique ability to fall into troublesome situations.

"He mentioned something like that. How'd you know?"

"I'm dating the Iron Dragon King's son, Gajeel. It was easy to draw the conclusion." Lucy buzzed at the information. She'd known Levy was dating someone but didn't know who until now.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me that!" was all the blonde could manage.

"You know how our pack is Lu. You know interspecies isn't allowed." A rule decided by her father when he first took over as leader. Lucy made a pfft noise and shook her hand in the air.

"We all know that's a rule for me, and no one else. He's just disguising it to keep pack control." While the blunette agreed with Lucy she wasn't going to test that theory.

"Regardless, I'm glad for you. You always hated the full moon until now."

"It's not the full moon I hate. It's the forced transformation." She corrected. Lucy loved the stars more than anything, and each forced transformation was spent staring into the sky. Until now.

"I know that. I'm just surprised. Dragons have keen noses, he should've been able to smell the magic on you. That's how Gajeel found out what I was." Speaking on keen noses. Werewolves definitely didn't match up to dragons, but they still had a hell of a sense of smell. And right now, all Lucy could smell was smoke.

She froze on the spot as a familiar voice chatted outside the window with a large man covered in piercings. Pink, but this wasn't from the flower shop next door. Her breath hitched in her throat, and with a small whimper, she faced away from the pinkette. Their eyes hadn't met, and she was fairly certain he didn't know she was there. It needed to stay that way.

"What are you doing?" Levy's voice broke through her inner monologue with a chiding tone.

"That's him." She whispered. Surely, they could still hear the conversation so Lucy held up a hand, and shook her head before Levy could manage her next question.

"All right. But you better have an explanation in the morning." The blunette was awarded a mock salute from her incredibly nervous blonde friend.

"Wait, are you leaving already?" the question startled Lucy, but she nodded in response.

"Yes, I wanted to get ready for the change. I know it's still early, but…" Levy understood completely. While most of the pack had a seamless transformation, herself included, Lucy did not. Many believed that it was because of her human mother's blood that she had what was regarded as the most painful transition. It was why she never willingly shifted forms.

"I'll see you in the morning, Lu." A small wave from the blunette was Lucy's signal that she was good to head out. With the doors of the café opened all she could hear was what sounded like the end of a conversation that had left the fire drake irritated. Maybe that was usual for him? She didn't know, but a part of her wanted to find out.

"Are you okay?" the words slipped out before she'd even realized it. Her mouth, and her brain, were clearly working against her.

"Huh? Who are you?" gruff. Not at all like the voice from the clearing. Put in perspective she could see where she went wrong. She'd approached an irritated drake and then tried to question him as though she was his friend. She held up her hands in a surrendering fashion which calmed his features ever so slightly.

Features that she found insanely different. He was definitely able to pass as a human if you ignored the fangs. His claws, the scales that adorned his face, and the horns that curved from his temples were all gone. She nearly frowned but caught herself quickly. She missed the man from the clearing, she realized.

"Sorry." His voice was closer to the tone she'd remembered.

"For? It was my fault. I shouldn't have intruded on a personal issue."

"No. I shouldn't have been rude about it." His tone hadn't really bothered her, but this conversation had already gone on too long. Any longer, and he might realize who she was.

"Don't worry about it. Whatever it is, I hope it gets better." She turned with a wave, leaving him to watch her go. And he did. She'd smelled familiar, like the scent of pine, and vanilla. Which he hadn't recalled smelling before, but still his senses were screaming as though he knew her. Which was impossible. There's no way he could. He would've known if he'd met a girl like her.

Still, she smelled of magic which meant she was, at the very least, not human. Never the less, he didn't want to worry about that. His only worry was the wolf. He hadn't seen her in nearly a month, and with fur as white as snow she couldn't possibly be able to camouflage in the dense greenery that surrounded Magnolia. Though, he bet she thrived in the winter. He worried that she had possibly been killed by a hunter. Those were common after all. Especially with the possibility of the wolf being a werewolf. The only difference between a were, and its counterpart was size.

This was especially true with wolves. Werewolves are abnormally large, and barely look anything like a natural-born wolf. Come to think of it, the wolf in the woods that night was rather large. At least larger than normal, but most of the ones he'd seen were much bigger. Though, she could have been a runt.

If she was a runt that was even worse. His anxiety skyrocketed as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. He needed to move. He gave a grunt and trudged back toward the nest. He'd just check again tonight. Like he did every night.

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

Lucy's hands dug into the hard concrete of the dungeon she was currently locked in. It had to be this way after all. She didn't want to ruin her home like she had the first time she'd transformed. That had been an experience she didn't want to relive a second time. Below her, the solid foundation of the building began to crack, and a yowl ripped from her throat. It sounded like a mix between human agony and raging wolf.

It was several minutes of her bones cracking to break down her human form into something dangerous, and far more primal. When it was finally over, and her senses began to return to normal, she cautiously moved her limbs. Hind legs, front paws, neck, jaw. It was all in working order, and the blonde almost wanted to spend the rest of her evening laying on the cold concrete that had already begun to soothe her sore body.

However, she forced herself to her paws and began to bounce up and down to test the boundaries of her body. She wouldn't be running any time soon, but if she kept hidden it wouldn't be too risky to keep a slow trot to the clearing where she hoped he'd be waiting. Who knew at this point.

He could have stopped going by now. She also could have visited, but shifting took a lot out of her, and she normally spent a few days recovering in bed after. Pack work had to be done, but she also had a job at the library downtown.

A doctor's note easily allowed her to get the few days after the full moon off each month, but anything after that would be testing her luck. While she was ‘Lucky' Lucy Heartfilia she'd rather not test how far that went.

Claws raked on the metal door, causing a rather annoying screeching noise on the iron as it protested to the unfair treatment. Creeeeeeak. The door moved open at a steady, slow rate to reveal Michelle. Her cousin was also a hybrid like herself, but the human genes had won out in the end, and she'd yet to show any signs of being a werewolf. Although, from what Lucy had seen, Michelle had no problems with it.

Michelle bent down to a crouch to rub Lucy between the ears and make soft cooing noises. She was giggling with joy at the motion, and Lucy didn't put up a fight. Not that she wanted to, she quite liked the feel of hands in her fur and she even gave a low rumble of appreciation.

"Well, get along now. He won't be happy if you stay here for too long." Her voice echoed in Lucy's mind, and the wolf gave an angry snort before dipping her head and making her exit. Michelle wasn't wrong (which only infuriated Lucy more), but she was hoping that someday her father would lighten up a bit, and allow himself the opportunity to move past her mother's death. She knew for a fact that her mom wouldn't have wanted to see him become this… monster.

The grass was scratchy beneath her paws and even grazed her underbelly. She had to keep low to the ground that way she wouldn't draw attention, though it was easier said than done. She may be a runt, but she had the physique to match her werewolf genes, plus she was bigger than the average mutt.

She wasn't concerned, though she should be, considering this was her turf and she knew these woods like the back of her paw. Though, there was a small problem: the section without shrub to hide in. This was one she had to pass through to make it to the clearing that he would theoretically be waiting in. She hadn't been paying attention the first time she'd traveled to him, but now in her weakened state, she had to be careful.

The first time they'd met she'd already had time to brush off the transformation aches but having left immediately after she was still sore. Sure, she could escape if she needed to, but honestly, she didn't want to. If at all possible. Her ears twitched as a rustling came from her right. Hunters. She cursed internally because of course there would be hunters. Why the hell not. Every lean muscle in her body tensed as she pressed as far as she could into the ground.

This was dangerous, and she needed to be careful.

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

Again. He waited under the cover of night. His form warped by the darkness to the point that if you looked he would appear to be a human by any other standard. His chin rest in his palm and his brows were scrunched in irritation. He'd waited for the wolf to grace him with her presence again, but it was day 30 and there was no sign of pale white fur. Feet tapped anxiously as he stared into the bark of the tree in front of him. His eyes glazed over as his mind wandered leaving his body an empty shell.

He would have stayed in that mindless trance had he not been snapped out of it. Bang! The metallic scent of blood crashed his senses making him think distinctly of pennies. That was neither here nor there. His mind switched immediately to defense as the crashing sound of footsteps echoed around him.

Branches breaking, leaves crunching, the collision of bodies. Whatever was bleeding was frantic, and whatever was chasing it had a partner. A partner it couldn't stop running into. Boy, was their teamwork bad.

He stood still as he waited to see exactly what was causing this kind of commotion in HIS woods. A flash of white caught his eye which caused a flutter of panic in his chest. That was impossible. Another shot fired, and the sound of a yelp! had him ready to run to the rescue.

She crashed to the ground, her breath labored, and a soft whimper leaving her body. They'd gotten her good, and if she managed to live her father would not be pleased. She urged her body to move, and somehow it complied. The calm didn't last as the sound of a small branch snapped beneath a heavy boot. A noise rose above the rest: growling. She wondered when exactly she'd began growling and it took her a moment to realize that she hadn't. That's when she realized exactly where she was. The Clearing.

Which meant to her left was the one person she'd never been happier to see. He'd waited for her. With the hunters distracted she leapt into the clearing and booked it to his side. She ignored screams of protest and the sound of cocking guns. She just needed to reach him. She slid to a stop behind him, her breath leaving her body in heavy spurts. Warmth spread through her entire body as his hand laid upon her head. It was urging her to rest. It was like he was saying, ‘Leave it to me.' And she did.

He never thought he'd be so MAD. Her beautiful fur was matted with blood from an injury on her backside, and her body shook with exhaustion. Wings extended from his back, and the original growl turned into a loud snarl which evolved until a roar was echoing for miles.

"Leave." He bellowed his command into the air. He was every bit Igneel's son, and damnit he was the Fire Dragon King's heir. They'd leave if they wanted to live. Guns clattered to the ground and with wild scrambling, the hunting pair took their abrupt departure. He huffed, blowing out a puff of smoke. These were his woods, his territory, and he'd be damn if someone attacked a friend in his presence.

Her body quivered next to his, and when he crouched down to check on her she shoved her muzzle against his face and rubbed furiously.

"Hey! Cut that out!" she didn't take him seriously as she watched him light up with laughter, and his mouth contorted into the same grin she'd seen the first time they'd met. She'd been worried. The expression he'd made when he'd ran off the hunters had made him look like a demon. It was someone she'd never seen, but also someone she knew he'd be unhappy to become. He'd looked like a king protecting his people.

Her whiskers tickled his cheek as she nuzzled him. She must've felt scared, which wasn't surprising all things considered. Then, he caught it. A soft scent just past the smell of pennies: Vanilla. His eyes widened, his mind flitting to her. The blonde who'd been a stranger. The one who checked to see if he was okay after his fight with Gajeel.

"You…?" he whispered. A howl sounded off in the night, the call to beckon her home. Just like before. A nod and the wolf was gone. A roar sounded off in the distance, his own call home, and he knew he'd have explaining to do.

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

She stood, slowly, from her chair at the library. She'd been adamant about returning to her job even through her father's distress. It seemed like his only daughter almost dying had lit some kind of fire in him. He'd been more caring, and dare she think it, tender. Still, she wouldn't just sit, and wait for her wound to heal.

That'd be boring. Plus, she couldn't stop thinking about that night. The pink-haired man waiting under the moonlight, and how he'd saved her life. They wouldn't have killed her. No, they would have sold her.

She shuddered and gripped the book in her hand even tighter. Lately, she'd been having trouble controlling her strength so when it snapped in half she wasn't surprised. Even so, it would surely be docked from her pay.

"It seems weird for a librarian to be destroying a book. Aren't ya supposed to like those?" she recognized his voice easily. It was the same tone he used when they spoke in the woods the first night.

"You thought so too, huh?" she sighed, but set the destroyed book down on the cart beside her.

"Interested in anything?" she meant a book, obviously. The pinkette had something a little different in mind.

"You." He watched her body stop on a dime, and her cheeks exploded in the color red. A part of him wanted to chuckle and stroke her hair to calm her. The other part told him not to. Even if she was the wolf in the woods (he still wasn't sure) it wasn't likely she'd care for being treated like an animal.

"W-What do you mean?" her voice sputtered, but then evened out. Did he know? It was entirely possible, though she wasn't in the mindset to be playing this game. Fake it ‘till you make it. That was her motto.

"Nothing. I just saw ya from the window. We met a few days ago so I wanted to say ‘Hi'." It wasn't a lie, not entirely, but he wasn't prepared to try and out a werewolf even if it was an empty bookstore.

"Oh. Well then, hello, stranger." She teased, shelving another book into its rightful place. This was the tricky part, having to walk forward to the next section of literature without him noticing her wound.

"Stranger." He said it with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, "What's your name?" if they exchanged names they would be acquaintances. Then, maybe the anger creeping into his chest might subside. She knew him and she'd heard his inner-most concerns. He'd saved her life. They were hardly strangers.

"Lucy. Lucy Heartfilia." She held out her hand to him, a soft gesture, hoping he'd take it. Then, perhaps they could be more than just the wolf and the dragon who met under the light of the full moon.

"My name is Natsu Dragneel." There. Acquaintances. Next step: friends. "Can I help?"

She considered his offer, maybe if he was elsewhere in the store she could maneuver with ease. Or at the very least she'd be able to keep her secret.

"Yes. That would be great." She smiled, soft and sweet. "The system is alphabetical." It was nothing special like the Dewey Decimal system.

"Got it." He grabbed a few hardcovers and stared at their titles before wandering off. She'd heard him whisper the letter ‘P' and that was at least two rows over. Now, she just needed to place the book she currently held in her hand. ‘Starlight', it was a children's book that her mother had read to her when she was a child. It detailed the story of a young girl with the power to control call upon the stars. It was her favorite. It was also, unfortunately, on the top shelf.

She grimaced but still pushed to the tip of her toes to push the book into its rightful place. The wound where the bullet had lodged deep into her hip was screaming in agony. She should have had him put it up. He was tall, probably? Her mind pictured him as she confirmed his height. She hadn't really been paying attention to his physical features due to her internal panic.

Move on, her mind urged. She agreed and switched to the next title. ‘Roses Be Damned'. This was supposed to be some classic, cheesy romcom and she couldn't wait to purchase it and let it consume her life for the next month. If it was good anyway. It was here, that Lucy made her mistake.

She shifted to the right accidentally bumping right into the heavy cart full of books. She let out a scream of pain as she toppled to the ground, holding her hip tightly as though that would help. As if the tighter she squeezed the less pain she would feel.

Natsu, two rows over, stared at the book in his hand. It was an informational guide on Werewolves. Now, while werewolves had outed themselves – for the most part – that didn't mean all of the packs had. It was more a pre-emptive strike than anything else. He should probably buy this book. He was making his way around the corner when the scream and clatter of books had him rushing.

There she was, lying sprawled across the floor with small whimpers leaving her lips. He cursed. He'd gotten complacent. Of course, there's no way she would have healed by now. Werewolves and Dragons were fundamentally different after all. While he wouldn't be slowed down by a bullet, she wasn't built as sturdy.

"Are you all right?" his voice sounded like it was miles away as her mind seemed shrouded by the pain her body was experiencing. Fuck. Maybe she should have stayed home. This was shaping up to be a great day already.

"Nnn." Her grunt seemed to be an affirmative but she still hadn't moved from her spot on the floor so he decided to take it with a grain of salt.

"Why are you pretending?" her entire body froze from its position on the ground.

"What do you mean?" she feigned ignorance for a moment. She couldn't allow him to figure her out so easily, though it would just be easier to come clean.

"Actin' like you're okay, but clearly you're not." She'd been scared when he asked the question. He wasn't entirely sure why she would be. Either she was scared of him, or someone else. It had to be a someone, not a something. He hoped so anyway.

She stared into the carpet as though it was the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. It wasn't. Lucy couldn't just avoid him forever but maybe she could feign passing out and deal with it later. No, that was a bad idea too. She cursed under her breath and gathered all of her courage to face him.

"I'd say you're right. I was in a sticky situation and got injured a few days ago." He knew that already. He was there. He saved her. It had taken a bit of time to find her though, in fact, he probably wouldn't have without Gajeel's girlfriend to help him out. Apparently, the girls were in the same pack. Now, that was a plot twist.

"I know. I saved ya didn't I." there wasn't a question; it was another statement. Yep, he knew. Would he be mad? First, he shares his secrets with her in the woods under the guise that she was a regular woodland creature. And then, she hides her identity and pretends they never met. Lucy regretted her train of thought because of course, he'd be mad. She'd be mad too if he had done the same thing. Ah, but he hadn't done it. She had.

"I should start with an ‘I'm sorry.'" She mumbled. His heightened hearing caught her words whereas a normal human would have experienced some difficulty. That was not helping him understand why she was sorry. There wasn't really anything to be sorry about, right?

"Why are ya apologizin'?" Theoretically, there shouldn't be a reason to apologize. Not unless she'd run rampant and telling the story of the dragon who didn't want to be king. That sounded like a shitty romance-drama movie waiting to happen.

"Well, you confided in me, and I didn't bother to tell you that I wasn't human." she felt bad about it. Rationally speaking, how could she have told him anything. Speaking was NOT a skill that wolves had. Mostly, it was that she never went back to that clearing – as a human – to explain herself.

"Ya realize wolves don't talk right?" he wasn't quite sure what she was feeling so guilty about. He wasn't mad. He'd shared a secret with a wolf on the night of the full moon. It wouldn't have surprised him in the least if it'd been a werewolf.

"Well, yes, but--" she sputtered to a stop as he interrupted her.

"No harm, no foul. I'm not mad about it. As long as ya didn't run around tellin' every damn person on the street about it, then who cares?" she cared. Obviously.

"It was still a betrayal of your trust! Let me make it up to you." she silently pleaded that he'd agree and just let her take him to lunch or something. The pinkette was uncomfortable. Again. His fingers raked through his hair, displacing the messy locks, and then he gave a groan of annoyance before nodding.

"Fine." he didn't elaborate, instead he placed his hands on his hips and waited. Lucy found herself drawn into his gaze. When they met she could've sworn they were the color of midnight, but in the day with the sun high in the sky, they were a dazzling green. To her, they equated to the vibrant journal decorated in white daisies that lived in her desk at home. It had reminded her of spring, and the same was true of his eyes.

"Hello?" he waved a hand in her face. She'd suddenly gone blank on him and while she could've been thinking of what to do to ‘make it up to him' – he got a distinct feeling that wasn't the case. He was caught in his own trance as well. She was definitely the wolf in the woods.

The second he looked into her eyes he knew. It was the same dark gold that he'd seen then, only this time the face staring back at him was a human's. The human was blonde, beautiful, and admittedly a little weird.

"What about lunch?" she blurted, as though she'd finally came back to reality.

"What about it?"

"Let me take you to lunch. To make it up to you." she elaborated for him, and honestly, he buzzed with excitement. He could eat any day, any time.

"Absolutely." no hesitation. Lucy's brow quirked in response.

"Well, then. Would now be a good time? I'm due for a break."

"I'm ready when you are." he held his hand out to her and she gladly took it. She'd need the support if she wanted to make it anywhere in the next millennia.

#fairy tail #nalu #nalu ff #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu x lucy #ft #dorkneel #queen #my writing #otp: welcome home #ever since i switched to linux #it wont let me copy paste my text with the indents #in any case have this #naluweek

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