#naedine

oscar remembered when he’d gotten jumped in. he remembered the PAIN of every punch, every kick, and he still had bruises from it to this day. but he was so much more than the pain he’d endured. he was strong, brave, and downright TERRIFYING when he needed to be. as the leader of the santos, he needed to be respected, and the respect came from FEAR.

oscar had finally gotten used to the violence after a few years in the gang. he felt NUMB every time he kicked the boy to the ground. every punch he dealt was strong and purposeful. the boy, named hunter, had specifically asked to be in the gang for protection. oscar had agreed, but clearly hunter didn’t know anything about being jumped in. the poor teenager was crying out, pleading and begging for MERCY, not even fighting the blows anymore. it only made oscar hit him harder; not because he deserved it, but because a member of the santos couldn’t be WEAK.

“STOP CRYING,” he said in a firm voice, kicking hunter in the face again. hunter whimpered and curled up into a ball, unable to resist the blows. tears were streaming down his cheeks, and oscar should have felt guilty. but instead, he felt nothing... NUMBNESS. if anything, it was a dull pain in his chest from overexertion and a chronic lack of sleep.

he was so involved in what he was doing that he didn’t notice anyone behind him,

@naedine / injury starters.

@naedine​ // captain america: the winter soldier prompts

       PUZZED LOOK he gives her as he tries to wrap his head around everything-- Peter is overwhelmed, to say the least, unsure where to go or what to even DO. The moment everything collapsed still rings through his head, video projected on a screen of the face he’d last seen on a bridge in London, announcing to the world a false story and Peter’s BIGGEST secret. The...well, not a plan, since he didn’t exactly plan it out, but strategy was to get as far away from where it happened as he could, hide among alleyways and corners of the city no one checked. He can’t go to anyone, can’t ENDANGER them even more after what’s already happened. 

     Except, Peter has no idea how Nadine found him. 

                                        dot dot dot dash dash dash dot dot dot, are you freaking kidding?  that’s what eddie gets for trying to call out the man, but mostly when the man is nadine hunt and when he points out their hiding spot doesn’t have the promise of secrecy he needs it to if she’s going to keep shuffling around in the leaves and make what is probably just a slight add on to what a gentle breeze would do to a bush, except to eddie it’s a deafening ruckus (and a ruckus he doesn’t want the pleasure of hearing).   

           she freezes up, a vague sense of panic bubbling in her rib cage. uh oh. the line between what she should + shouldn’t know is consistently blurred, vaguely prophetic poetry escaping either her pencil or her mouth. sometimes, knowledge simply was slipped in the folds of her memory; knowledge she shouldn’t have about things she has no business in. “y-y-you -- y-you s-s-said-d s-so, d-d-didn-n’t you? j -- jus-s-st n-now.” please say yes.

“we ain’t CHILDREN,” oscar scoffed. it was a natural response, a defensive response. but his real response would surely disappoint nadine. he couldn’t stay with her, not if he wanted to keep her safe. people around him were in constant danger, and that’s the last thing he would want for nadine. then again, she wasn’t exactly a normal girl.

time travel couldn’t save her forever, though, and it would only be more painful when she left for real if he made this promise. he didn’t like promises, anyway - they were too fragile, too easily broken. but he couldn’t exactly say no to her.

asking nadine on a date wasn’t the hard part. the hard part was him deciding what to do on said date. he’d told her it was a surprise, but in reality, he’d had NO idea what the date would involve. but after a bit of planning, he’d decided on a classic albeit cliche dinner date. after dinner, he planned on taking her on a walk through the park, then getting ice cream for dessert. that was his PLAN, anyway. he hoped it would all work out.

he pulled into the parking lot of the romantic-ish restaurant he’d chosen and parked the car. “we’re here,” he told her, offering her a small smile. it was weird how he felt like a completely different person with nadine. with nadine, he didn’t want to be the ruthless gang leader or the guilty killer. he wanted to be OSCAR, not spooky.

he got out of the car. “i hope you like italian,” he said, shutting the door. he’d bought a special outfit for the occasion - a button-down shirt with actual pants instead of his regular muscle tank and long shorts. he figured he might as well dress nicely, right?