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animebw · 2 years

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Short Reflection: Spring 2022 Anime

It is truly astonishing how good anime has been lately. Every season, I go in thinking, “well, there’s no way this is gonna live up to the incredibly high bar last season yet.” And every time, I’m proven wrong. Spring 2022 was a smorgasbord of excellent shows from start to finish, and even better, it was a smorgasbord of diverse excellence. No matter what kind of anime you most prefer, whether action, adventure, romance, drama, comedy, or even sports, this season gave you at least one show to really look forward to every week. And if you’re someone like me who pretty much likes anything as long as it’s done well? Then lord, I hope you’re ready to kiss your free time goodbye, because there’s a metric ass-ton of worthwhile anime from this season you need to catch up on. Don’t worry, summer’s looking pretty thin, you’ll have plenty of free time. So sit back, relax, and let me guide you through the good, the bad, and the truly brilliant that was anime in spring 2022.

The Rising of the Shield Hero Season 2: 2.5/10

Listen, it not like I was expecting this to be any good. Shield Hero has always been an absolute garbage fire of an anime, and the only reason I’m still keeping up with it is morbid curiosity at just how bad it’s gonna get. But I don’t think anyone, fans or haters alike, were really expecting just how lazy season 2 ended up being. Huge chunks of content have clearly been compressed into far too short a timespan, things happen with no rhyme or reason, huge events are glossed over or skipped entirely, and almost nothing that happens here feels connected to what was happening before. I guess maybe it was trying to pull a Hunter x Hunter Chimera Ant Arc where the story takes a diversion and spends the next significant stretch of time in a mostly self-contained one-off adventure, but it does such a terrible job justifying its existence that the entire thing comes of as a giant waste of time. Not that the main story was any good to begin with, but at least it felt like it had a reason to exist. A terrible, shitty, incel-pandering reason, but a reason nonetheless. Which makes it even more bizarre how this season actually tries to reign its more toxic aspects in, almost like the author finally realized that having the relatable protagonist be a literal slave owner might be a bad look and tried to course-correct midstream. Not that it succeeded all that well but, you know, an attempt was made. I dunno, man, this was just crap. But at least it was crap in a more interesting way than I was expecting, and with a show like Shield Hero, you really can’t ask for more than that.

In the Heart of Kunoichi Tsubaki: 3.5/10

Those of you who’ve been reading my blog for any stretch of time probably know that Teasing Master Takagi-san is one of my favorite rom-coms of recent years. It’s so goddamn adorable I feel like my cheeks are going to fall off whenever I watch it. Unfortunately, that same charm is nowhere to be found in this adaptation of a manga from the same author. The whole premise of a village of ninja girls who’ve never seen a man and yet one starts getting romantic feelings towards them rests on this weird assumption that once a girl hits puberty, she’s just inherently going to conform to heterosexual capitalist standards for how one should view love and desire. The protagonist literally has no frame of reference for the opposite sex and yet she gets all gushy over them like she burns through ten shoujo romance manga a week. And don’t get me started on how this show doesn’t seem to realize that gay and aro/ace people exist. Girls falling for guys is just treated as innate to everyone (and yet there’s weirdly a lot of yuribaiting as well? Not sure how that makes sense). Add to that the incredibly skimpy outfits on a cast of girls who are all, like, ten years old, and the whole thing comes off just as gross as Akebi’s Sailor Uniform last season. God, Cloverworks really needs to put its talents to better use.

Love After World Domination: 4.5/10

I honestly feel bad for Love After World Domination. It’s a unique enough twist on a rom-com- the hero of a super sentai team starts a relationship with the bad guys’ smoking hot second in command and they date on the down-low- and despite my fears that the premise could only sustain a few episode at most, it remained fresh throughout its run. In any ordinary season of anime, I think I would’ve been way more positive towards this show. But this was no ordinary season of anime. This was a season stuffed to the gills with stellar rom-coms, rom-coms that blow literally everything about Love After World Domination out of the water. It’s not as well animated as Kaguya-sama, not as consistently funny as Demon Girl Next Door, and nowhere near as adorable as Komi-san. And compared against those titans, its charms become harder to appreciate, while its flaws- the main couple isn’t really interesting outside of being a couple, there are too many eye-rolling fetish characters- become much more apparent. Perhaps in another timeline this show could’ve been able to work its magic, but as is, it sadly must settle for being the least interesting rom-com in a season bursting with them.

Deaimon: Recipe for Happiness: 4.5/10

So, remember Barakamon? Remember how that show’s premise was an idiot failson moving away from the big city to rediscover his passion while unexpectedly becoming a surrogate dad figure to a young girl? Well, Deaimon feels like it’s trying to recapture that same magic, albeit as a much more low-key tempo. This isn’t the boisterous, lively countryside that defined Barakamon; this is a chilled-out, pleasantly sedate depiction of life at a family-run bakery in the middle of Kyoto. It’s a show you watch not for the plot, but for a weekly dose of mellow vibe and interesting facts about wagashi, the art of traditional Japanese sweets. And I’m hypothetically down for that; unfortunately, Deaimon has a few too many imperfections to really hit the mood it’s going for. Too much time is spent getting to know characters that don’t really matter, too little time is spent on what should be the central relationship between Nagomu and Itsuka, and the show has an awkward understanding of how people talk to each other, resulting in a few scenes that dip into the uncanny valley of human communication. It’s too weightless to be unpleasant, but it’s too unfocused to really leave any sort of impact. Just re-watch Barakamon if you’re in the mood for this kind of show.

Heroines Run the Show: 5/10

God, what a fucking disappointment this turned out to be. Five episodes in, I was fully prepared to call Heroines Run the Show the hidden gem of the season. A wholesome shoujo-adjacent male idol anime that managed to make me cry at the climax of its first arc? With a protagonist voiced by Inori Minase and a cast of lovable characters? I should’ve been able to tell you all this was a feel-good delight that you shouldn’t let slip under your radar. But then the middle of the show gets a little shaky as it tries to explore the pressure put on girls to be cute and almost ends up glorifying it? Except it ends on a good note that avoids the arc’s more worrying aspects, so it seemed like we were still sailing smoothly. But then the final arc tries to tackle overly obsessed idol fans, and it shits the bed so hard it retroactively makes the entire show worse. It has been a long time since I’ve seen an anime self-destruct as badly as Heroines Run the Show, and all the good feelings I used to have about it are now curdled into frustration and anger. As good as that first half was, I can’t in good conscience recommend it anymore thanks to how disgustingly it all turns out. What a fucking waste.

A Couple of Cuckoos (1st Half): 5/10

Sound the alarm, folks: I’m enjoying a harem anime! Sort of. Kinda. Okay, look, it’s probably telling that all the worst parts of A Couple of Cuckoos are the parts intrinsically tied to being a harem anime in the first place. The forced excuses for fanservice, the eye-rolling notion that multiple girls would fall in love with the same potato loser, the fact that the prospective romantic partners include the protagonist’s stepsister god dammit anime why do you keep doing this. Suffice to say, this show is victim to most of its genre’s inherent flaws, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. You know what else it has, though? Snappy dialogue, surprisingly fun characters, believable and diverse chemistry between the entire main cast, and even some decent drama around the central conceit of blood families vs. adopted families and how different people fit into that paradigm. Take away the harem aspect, and this would be a damn entertaining little high school comedy with enough charm and genuine heart to stick with you. But, well, it is a harem, so all that good stuff has to come packaged with a heaping helping of Anime Bullshit (derogatory). I’ll stick it out to see if the second half picks up at all, but for now, you’re better off waiting to see how it all shakes out before giving this one a shot.

Healer Girl: 5/10

As a longtime theater nerd, I’ve often dreamed of the day we finally got a broadway-style musical anime. Not just an idol show where the songs are all performed in-universe (or idol-adjacent shows like Symphogear or Revue Starlight), but a show where the characters break into full-on song and dance at the drop of a hat to express what they’re feeling. Well, the wait is finally over. Here, at last, is an anime where any conversation can break out into singing and any scene can become a rousing three-part harmony. The musical anime of my dreams has arrived, and its name is Healer Girl. Eeeeeeexcept half of its songs are still performed in-universe anyway, while the songs that do follow the broadway formula are mostly just inconsequential fluff about random moments that don’t really matter. And the show built around those songs doesn’t really have much to offer on its own besides pleasant vibes and a very on-point face game. I dunno, maybe I set my expectations too high since the director of FMA Brotherhood was in charge, but Healer Girl just ends up feeling like a half measure all around. It’s charming enough that I can’t really dislike it, but it’s too insubstantial and unambitious to leave any sort of impact.

Shikimori’s Not Just a Cutie: 5.5/10

So I went on a bit of a roller-coaster ride with this show. Before I watched it, I assumed it would just be another bland seasonal waifu show about selling a marketable girl to the lowest common denominator. Then I started watching it, and I was shocked by how invested I became. Izumi and his princely girlfriend Shikimori had the kind of meaningful chemistry that so few of these “start when the couple is already dating” anime have, and the fun supporting cast had me hyped for a pleasant rom-com delight. But then as I kept watching, it sort of became exactly the show I was afraid it was going to be. Episode after episode suffered from bland characterization and lowest-effort-imaginable scenario building, to the point that it became hard to remember what had happened in any given episode even minutes after I finished watching it. But then the show’s second half starting picking things right back up, and by the time we reached the final episode, it was probably the best version of itself it had ever been. Suffice to say, Shikimori’s Not Just a Cutie is a weirdly complicated show to talk about for how simple it is. All I can say for sure is that when it is on, it damn well holds its own in a very stacked rom-com season, and perhaps that’s enough to be worth giving it a look.

Aharen-san wa Hakarenai: 6.5/10

I think it’s safe to call Aharen-san wa Hakarenai (Loosely translated, it means “Aharen is hard to understand”) the sleeper hit of spring 2022. In a season absolutely lousy with high-profile, high-effort rom-coms, this low-key lark about two weird kids bringing out the best in each other could’ve easily slipped through the cracks. But even without gorgeous production values, a riveting story, or truly outrageous comedy, Aharen-san proved to have real staying power. And I can see why, because while it can’t hold a candle to the likes of Kaguya-sama and Komi-san, this silly little show really struck a chord with me. Most of its humor comes from its deadpan co-protagonists as they bumble through ridiculous scenario after ridiculous scenario without so much as raising an eyebrow, and it hits far more often than it misses. But moreso than its understated goofiness, this show’s secret weapon is its casual, heartwarming acceptance of, well, difference. The titular Aharen reads pretty heavily as on the spectrum, her little brother like to cross-dress with her clothing, there’s a handful of pretty explicitly queer side characters, and the show treats them all with affirmation and kindness. It’s really damn wholesome, and as long as you’re not burned out from rom-coms this season, it’s well worth checking out.

Requiem of the Rose King (2nd Half): 7/10

It’s a damn shame it took Requiem of the Rose King so long to find its footing. The first half, as much as I liked it, was so cramped and inconsistent that it lost most of its audience before it really hit its stride. Well, let me tell you now: if you dropped this show? Pick it back up. Give it another shot. Because once it reaches its second half and timeskips to start re-imagining the events of the Richard III play itself, Requiem of the Rose King becomes really goddamn good. The story has more room to breathe, the machinations of the royal court work better with the show’s limited animation than the battle-heavy first half, and watching all these characters drawn inexorably towards their fate makes for the kind of gripping tragedy you rarely see these days. All of which culminates in a final episode that may well end up being one of the best finales in all of anime this year. Just be aware that this show comes with, like, all the content warnings, as it contains depictions of homophobia, transphobia, sexual assault, and arguably suicidal ideation. If you can stomach a story that tackles such difficult subject matter (not always perfectly, but better than most), then I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Bubble: 7/10

Bubble is the kind of project that was just inevitably going to be awesome from the moment it was conceived. A Weathering With You-inspired supernatural blockbuster romance with Tetsuro Araki in the director’s chair, Gen Urobuchi working on the script, and Hiroyuki Sawano providing the soundtrack? I’m pretty sure the laws of physics make it literally impossible for something like that to turn out anything less than cool as shit. And Bubble certainly is cool at shit, a film of staggering beauty that puts Araki’s trademark hyper-kinetic visual eye to fantastic use. From the gorgeous landscapes to the pulse-pounding midair parkour sequences that define this movie’s action, from the highly expressive character animation to the bonkers spectacle of the final act, Bubble is a feast for the senses in the way that only masters of their craft can truly pull off. The story, sadly, is nothing to write home about; it’s a pretty generic and cliched affair, even if it pulls all those cliches off reasonably well. But that audiovisual splendor still makes it well worth a watch. Turns out you can get away with an uninspired script when the spectacle that script brings to life is this damn good.

Ao Ashi (1st Half): 7.5/10

Do you miss Haikyuu? I miss Haikyuu. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve spent the years since season 4 searching desperately for a sports anime that scratches the same itch, only to come up heartbreakingly short every time. Well, suffer no longer, folks, because Ao Ashi is everything you’ve been waiting for. Okay, it doesn’t look as good as Haikyuu; its workmanlike production doesn’t allow for the kind of orgasmic sakuga heights that made Haikyuu such a breathtaking spectacle. But otherwise? This is everything I’ve been missing about my good volleyball boys. An expansive cast of characters who we get to know naturally over the course of time! An obvious deep knowledge and love for the sport being portrayed (soccer, in this case) and how its mechanics affect the story’s thematic trajectory! A hothead protagonist who must learn to broaden his horizons to achieve his full potential! A soaring soundtrack that would make Haikyuu composer Yuuki Hayashi proud! It’s even got a decent female supporting cast; Hana Ichijou is my precious daughter and I would die for her. Time will tell if the series’ second cours can push it to true greatness, but for now, if you’ve been looking to fill the Haikyuu-shaped hole in your heart, I cannot recommend Ao Ashi enough.

The Executioner and Her Way of Life: 7.5/10

It finally happened, folks. We finally have another genuinely great isekai. After so many piles of crap and utterly unmemorable pieces of cardboard, this genre turned out something awesome. And all it had to do was literally murder the self-insert male MC in the first episode so it could transform into a rip-roaring yuri action/adventure edgefest. To be clear, though, that kind of subversive brilliance isn’t the only reason I fell for The Executioner and Her Way of Life (but seriously, holy shit was that a great way to kick the usual isekai tropes to the curb). No, what makes this show work is because it has what basically every other isekai lacks: a good goddamn story. The setting is fully realized with its own unique culture, it incorporates the concept of being an isekai world into its worldbuilding in some truly fascinating ways, and the plot perfectly captures the Re:Zero appeal of wild twists cascading on top of each other in rapid succession as they recontextualize what you’ve already seen to fantastic effect. Not that this show is quite as good as Re:Zero- as much as I love Akari and Menou, their story so far hasn’t even neared the heights of Subaru’s journey toward self-actualization- but with how fucking wretched this genre usually is, I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Bottom line, Executioner kicks ass, and if we can somehow get four seasons of that fugly skeleton show, then we have no excuse not to keep this one rolling for at least a few seasons more.

Ya Boy Kongming: 7.5/10

Generally speaking, when you get a show with a premise as bonkers as “Legendary Chinese strategist from the Three Kingdoms era gets reincarnated in modern Japan and becomes the manager of an aspiring pop idol,” there’s one of two possibilities. The first possibility is that the creators are just throwing weird shit at the wall for a cheap, cynical attempt at quirky brand recognition. The second possibility, however strange it might seem, is that they actually know what they’re doing. And I’m thrilled to say that Ya Boi Kongming is firmly in the latter camp. It’s a hilarious, heartfelt celebration of the power of music, chasing your dreams, and what it taking to become your best self, full of lovable characters, spectacular song performances, and just the right amount of batshit insanity to compliment such a wacky premise. It honestly makes me feel bad for Zombieland Saga; as much as I’ve enjoyed both seasons of that show, Ya Boi Kongming feels like the fully actualized version of what Zombieland could never quite achieve. I hope PA Works keeps this adaptation going, because these are the kind of good vibes I want to carry with me for many years to come.

Birdie Wing Season 1: 7.5/10

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. How the hell could an anime about golf- the most boring sport to ever exist- be in any way interesting? Well, I could try and explain it. I could explain how beautifully, confidently ridiculous it is at every turn. I could explain how it hits that pitch-perfect sweet spot of camp where it takes itself completely seriously despite running on the most batshit insane logic imaginable. I could explain how it mines incredible comedy just by using such a dull game as the high-stakes currency of cutthroat underground mafia schemes with enough bonkers future technology to make Seto Kaiba blush. I could even explain how it’s Actually Gay and that automatically makes it a must-watch. But really, no words can do justice to the magic of Birdie Wing. This is a show that must be seen to be believed. So instead, I’ll just ask you to watch this clip from the first episode:

youtube

This is maybe the twentieth most over-the-top thing that happens in Birdie Wing.

Got it? Good. Now go watch this damn thing already.

Dance Dance Danseur: 7.5/10

At first glance, Dance Dance Danseur feels like Mappa's attempt to recapture the Yuri on Ice magic of gorgeously animated bodies in motion. And it certainly accomplishes that: from the animation to the direction to the sound design, the way this show brings the art of classical ballet to life is absolutely stunning. But make no mistake, Dance Dance Danseur is a very different beast than its most obvious comparison. This is a show full of flawed people, immature teenagers who make immature mistakes against a backdrop far more vicious and honest about the world’s evils than I expected going in. It’s a story that dives headfirst into bullying, toxic masculinity, parental abuse, the systemic rot of the ballet world itself, and ways that artists striving for greatness, especially young artists, suffer and hurt each other in pursuit of finding what drives them forward. Does it pull it off perfectly? Fuck no. At times, the choices the characters make are so frustrating you want to reach through the screen and punch them. But as difficult as this show can be to sit through, it makes for some of the most realistic and compelling drama you’re likely to watch all year, drama only heightened by just how god damn gorgeous it all looks. It’s definitely not for everyone, but it’s well worth a look for anyone who can appreciate a story this jagged-edged.

The Demon Girl Next Door Season 2: 8/10

Ganbare, Shamiko! God, I’m so happy this show is back. The Demon Girl Next Door is one of the most underrated anime of the past decade, a gag comedy about a modern-day demon girl who accidentally seduces befriends the magical girl she’s supposed to be mortal enemies with and sets out to try and solve the issues that have left them both in dire straits. What makes this show great, beyond its incredibly fast-moving jokes that take great advantage of the anime’s limited resources, is just how damn good it is as building real emotional meaning into the story those jokes underlie. Few shows are this good at building compelling drama out of people trying to help each other, and while it never grows so heavy that it stops being a comedy first and foremost, that empathetic undercurrent gives this goofy little gag anime a way of really sinking its claws into you. If there’s one big flaw I can criticize it for, this second season makes it pretty clear just how much less compelling the supporting cast is than the two leads. Sure, they’ve all got their own charms, but every plotline that doesn’t involve Shamiko and Momo trying to out-gay each other is a plotline that would really be better spent on Shamiko and Momo trying to out-gay each other. Regardless, I had a blast with season 2, and I hope we haven’t seen the last of these adorable idiots yet.

Spy x Family: 8/10

Was there ever any doubt that Spy x Family was going to be a blockbuster hit? One of the most popular manga of the modern era, adapted by two of the most high-quality anime studios in the business (at least when they’re not destroying themselves with overwork)? You couldn’t get a more surefire success if you tried. And yes, surprising no one, I fell in love with Spy x Family just as much as everyone else. A master spy, a legendary assassin, and a telepathic orphan must forge a fake family for the sake of the spy’s mission, each one hiding their true identity from each other and doing their best to blend in to “normal” society, despite the fact that none of them have a damn clue what being normal actually entails. It’s a fantastic premise executed to near perfection, and the only real negative thing I can say against it (well, aside from the one creepy siscon character) is that this first season has left me unbearably impatient for it to get even better than it already is. This is a show that’s going to end up an all-time classic, and if you somehow haven’t checked it out already, consider this your call to give it a shot. It may not end up on your favorites list, but it’s basically impossible not to fall the slightest bit in love with.

Vampire in the Garden: 8.5/10

I’ll admit, I may be biased on this one. The concept of a post-apocalyptic lesbian vampire frostpunk road trip is so stupidly up my alley, I’d be shocked if I didn’t fall head over heels for it. But fuck it, this is my list, I make the rules. And even putting my personal preferences aside, Vampire in the Garden is fucking spectacular. It’s every bit the gorgeous, tragic melodrama you could ask for, telling the story of a human girl and a vampire queen who flee their warring species together in search of a paradise where they can all live as one people. The action is riveting, the worldbuilding is enthralling, and the bond that forms between Momo and Fine as they travel- and the fascinating way their arcs parallel each other in reverse- sucked me in and broke my heart in a thousand beautiful ways. It’s a fucking crime this OVA only had 5 episodes to tell its story; with a full cours to flesh out the actual journey and explore more interesting pockets of the world, this could’ve been right up there with Wolf’s Rain in the pantheon of anime’s post-apocalyptic masterworks. But even these 5 episodes are more than incredible enough for me to demand all of you to check it out. Studio Wit just does not miss, people.

Kaguya-sama Season 3: 8.5/10

Recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I had to choose between compelling protagonists or a compelling supporting cast, I would take the compelling protagonists. Sure, ideally one shouldn’t have to choose, but if the characters at the core of the story are fantastic enough to earn my investment, then I’ll likely gravitate to that story more than if the supporting cast outshines them. And that probably explains why Kaguya-Sama, as incredible a show as it’s become, isn’t going to end up on my favorites list anytime soon. To be clear, Kaguya and Shirogane aren’t bad protagonists by any stretch, and by the climax of season 3′s well-earned romantic buildup, I can finally say I’m invested in them as a couple as well. But I don’t come to this show for the romance at its core. I come for Chika’s batshit insane antics. I come for Ishigami’s shockingly compelling struggle to re-invent himself as a decent human being. I come for Hayasaka flexing on everyone, everywhere, all at once. And, of course, I come for the gonzo visual experimentation that’s quickly making this show second only to Nichijou in the pantheon of anime comedies that use incredible animation to wring maximum hilarity out of every joke. There are endless things to love about Kaguya-Sama; it’s just that Kaguya-Sama herself is probably the least of them. And that’s why, as good as season 3 is, there’s another rom-com that ended up snatching my Anime of the Season trophy right from under its nose...

Komi-san Can’t Communicate Season 2: 9/10

Alright, look: is this show’s supporting cast astronomically weaker than Kaguya-sama’s? Yes. Does it suffer from cast bloat that makes it hard to develop many of its characters beyond one-note jokes? Absolutely. Is Yamai Ren one of the worst... things to happen to anime since Mineta? Boy, you fucking know it. And yet none of that changes the fact that every time I put on an episode of Komi-san Can’t Communicate and see Komi and Tadano adorkably flailing their way through social interaction, my blood sugar levels spike hard enough to put me into cardiac arrest. God, I fucking love these two. I love how this show portrays their journey through self-betterment and self-acceptance. And watching Komi truly start to find her voice in season 2, literally and figuratively, was an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything. At its best, this show is a celebration of the ways that people come together, how we cross the seemingly impossible barriers of social interaction and forge companionship in a million different ways. It’s an achingly sweet, achingly sincere love letter to everyone who’s ever felt a little bit different, a promise that some day, with a little hard work, everyone is sure to find the place where they belong. And for all of its unevenness, that earnestness never fails to make Komi-san Can’t Communicate one of the most delightful watching experiences anime’s ever given us. Now bring on season 3, because if we don’t get to see these goobers actually start dating I will riot.

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freddiefredfive · 1 year

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A Part of Your World

Chapter 2: Forget the Fairy Tales

Read the previous chapters and give the story kudos on AO3!

The last thing you would call Cordelia Easton is oblivious. Now entering her early 30’s, there has not been a single day where Cordelia wasn't actively thinking about protecting the environment. Her parents were oceanographers who met while studying abroad in Barbados. They incorporated that passion for ocean life into Cordelia and her little sister Aurora from birth. When the girls were little, the Easton family started their mornings by greeting the sunrise at the beach. They’d even occasionally see some baby turtles crawling their way to the shore to start their lives in the mysterious waves of the ocean. Of course, Cordelia had made several scuba diving trips throughout her life, but she felt frustrated that she couldn’t see more of this beautiful other world. Despite that, she wanted to protect its hidden beauty until her dying breath. It was a promise she made to both of her parents, and she kept it by starting Sea Savers, a nonprofit that works to protect the ocean.

Despite her beautifully plush body and dark blond hair that fell a little past her shoulder with streaks of golden blonde, she quietly resented her looks because it always seemed to attract the wrong kind of guys. Since her focus was always on her organization, she didn’t exactly have the greatest track record. Most of the guys she dated or chose to let them have their way with her rarely didn’t care about her personal passions. Since Cordelia often workedsite on sight at the shores of Fort Washington Park, she always wore baggier, comfy clothes. Especially in the springtimeetting, Cordelia never left her house without a warm beanie and sweater. Whether she liked to admit it to herself or not, the other reason whe dressed this way is also to avoid unwanted attention from creeps on the street. After being burned one too many times, Cordelia chose to keep her distance from any fires.

Cordelia had bigger problems ahead of her now that she was facing Rubin Worthington, the head of Worthington's Waste Disposal Company.

“I don’t understand why you feel like you HAVE to dump all this crap in the ocean?” Cordelia asked Rubin over the phone, “You and I both know that this is not going to solve the problem at all.”

“Sweetheart…” Ruben tried to reply flirtingly, a trick he often tried to use when he didn’t get his way, only to be cut off by Cordelia saying, “Uh— You will ABSOLUTELY NOT call me that.”

“Ms. Easton,” Ruben groaned reluctantly, “My company gets rid of garbage from all five boroughs. We gather a lot of waste and our landfills simply can’t hold anymore.”

“A good portion of that waste could be recycled or repurposed,” Cordelia replied, “You could hire thousands of new people to go through that garbage and sort it. It would not only help your company but also help the city in so many different ways.”

“And send more of MY money down the drain?” Ruben scoffed, “Please…”

Cordelia could practically hear Ruben roll his eyes from behind the phone. As she sat in her office space that she shared with her sister Aurora, Cordelia thought about how she fought hard against many landfill companies in the past. However, none were as uncooperative as Mr. Worthington was. After a solid three months going back-and-forth with Mr. Worthington, pleading with him to find a new solution rid of his waste, Cordelia realized that missed approach was going nowhere.

“Mr. Worthington, you leave me no choice,” she sternly said, “I’m going to file a complaint against you.”

“Darling, please…” Ruben pleaded, “Don’t tell me that you’re actually thinking of suing ME?”

“I am suing you for Marine Pollution…” Cordelia replied coldly, “And if you refer to me as anything BUT Ms. Easton, I’ll sue you for sexual harassment too.”

“I’m sure that if we talk face-to-face, you’ll see my perspective more clearly.”

“Mr. Worthington,” Cordelia sighed, “We have been talking about this for over three months and you still don't seem to get that your actions are hurting millions of creatures who live below and above the ocean. It’s like I’ve been talking to a wall.”

“Look, I’ve seen that video where they had to pull a straw out of that giant sea turtle’s nose. Everyone has. But we can’t just stop and change everything overnight just because one or two animals got hurt. They were going to get hurt in the wild anyway, so why should I bother?”

Those words felt like a knife in the chest to Cordelia.

“Mr. Worthington, that’s just terrible of you to say,” Cordelia said, unintentionally leaving her heart out on her sleeve.

“I’m just being honest with you,” Ruben replied blankly. He heard the sadness in Cordelia’s voice and decided this was a good time to try asking her out again.

“Aw, I hope I haven’t disappointed you too much,” he cooed as sweetly as he could, but it sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Cordelia. “Let’s meet up for dinner and talk it out first, okay? My treat.”

It was a long pause before Cordelia made her response. She took a minute to swallow some tears, something she had been quite an expert at over the years.

Cordelia then quietly cleared her throat and sternly said, “…I’ll see you in front of the New York City Council, Mr. Worthington.”

“…. So, it’s a date then?” Ruben asked, continuing to shoot his shot before being quickly hung up on by Cordelia.

“Bastard…” Cordelia grumbled under her breath.

Aurora knocked on her office door and quietly entered the room. She was a few years younger than her more serious sister but she was slightly taller than her and almost painfully naïve. Aurora couldn’t help herself truthfully. She was a free spirit but just as passionate about preserving the environment as much as Cordelia was.

Aurora entered Cordelia‘s office wearing a sweater dress with stockings stuffed in her boots, and her long, dark brown hair in a cute half ponytail. After hearing Cordelia’s argument with Ruben from behind the door, she smiled awkwardly.

“Hey, Didi,” she greeted quietly, “How did it go?”

“Not great,” Cordelia sighed, taking her round glasses off to rub the stress from her face, “Mr. Worthington‘s not budging so I’m going to complain about him to the New York City Council.”

“Oooh! Are we going on strike?!” Aurora asked, excitedly bouncing on her feet, “We’ve never been on strike before! Mom and dad used to do it all the time when they were our age.“

Cordelia smirked and rolled her eyes before putting her glasses back on. Even though Aurora’s constant overwhelming enthusiasm got on her nerves sometimes, Cordelia did appreciate that her little sister was always by her side.

“Sort of,” She replied, “We first need evidence by the next council hearing to make any statements against Mr. Worthington’s company… but we do need lots of support from other people for a better chance at finally kicking him off the beaches.”

“Why don’t we call Sabrina?” Aurora replied, “If she’s free, we can meet her up for lunch and talk about what to do.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cordelia smiled, “I’ll call her now.

“Plus, I’m STARVING,” Aurora continued to ramble, as she often did, “and I heard Starbucks still has those yummy warm egg sandwiches! You know who I saw last week at Starbucks? Oh, gosh, what’s that guy's name? You used to have a crush on him… That Doc Ock guy, right? I recognized his face but I think he’s doing a play where he had to shave his head. I almost didn’t recognize him! He looked busy reading a book but I still ran up to him and told him ‘Hey! My sister absolutely LOVES you!’…”

Cordelia blushed red at the mention of Doc Ock and how her sister embarrassed her in front of Alfred Molina… without her being there at all!

She quickly escorted her sister out of the room, “Ooookay… Heh-heh… Let me call Sabrina now.”

“But then he just kinda looked a little scared when I came up to him so I just walked away but like he was a giant, so why would he be so scared of a little thing like me…?!”

Cordelia quickly shut the door behind her and side again, feeling second hand embarrassment from her sister. When she collected herself, she finally picked up the phone to call Sea Saver’s environmental lawyer and personal representative, Sabrina O’Reily.

Sabrina knew Cordelia and Aurora’s parents since she was a teenager. The ginger headed lawyer approaching her early 40s was once a fierce environmental activist, like Cordelia. She met the Easton’s in the 90’s during a rally against adding additional power plants near a wildlife sanctuary in Connecticut and she took under their wing as their unofficial first daughter. Sabrina loved Cordelia and Aurora like a big sister and helped them build Sea Savers from the ground up while she was finishing law school. Being more of a good balance of both Cordelia and Aurora’s personalities, Sabrina was very serious about her job but knew when to loosen up and have fun every once in a while.

After Cordelia explained the situation to Sabrina, the three women met up during Sabrina’s lunch break at Starbucks to discuss the plan of action.

“Wow, this guy seems like a total asshole,” Sabrina scoffed, “Mr. Worthington does have one of the biggest waste disposal companies in the city. Winning against him would be a massive victory, not just for Sea Savers, but for many other organizations like it. People will start taking us more seriously, for once...”

“Heck yeah!” Aurora cheered, “So, how do we get more support like Didi said?”

“Well, I know a guy who produces commercials. If we find evidence that Worthington’s Waste is still dumping garbage straight into the ocean, then we can film a commercial on the site and air it for the entire tri-state area to see! Hopefully it can rally up support from other groups.”

“That’s genius!” Cordelia laughed, excited to see the look on Ruben’s face when this commercial came out, “I’ll do a little investigating at the beaches later today when no one’s around.”

“Alright, I gotta go back to my office,” Sabrina nodded and stood up from her stool, “If you see anything, take lots of pictures and send them straight to me.”

Cordelia and Aurora said their goodbyes to Sabrina and stayed at the restaurant for a little while longer.

“God, I haven’t been this jazzed about something since I dumped Brett,” Cordelia said to herself as she took a sip of her coffee. She didn’t think Aurora heard her but she did.

“How have you been since then?” Aurora asked innocently.

“Huh? Oh, it’s been great,” Cordelia chuckled, “I should’ve left him a long time ago.”

“I didn’t mean to be nosy, but it happened so sudden,” Aurora replied, “You’re my sister. You can always talk to me.”

“Yeah I know,” Cordelia sighed, “but we’ve been having problems for a while and I didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with anyone. I'm sorry I left you in the dark for a long time.”

“So, what happened?” Aurora asked, placing a kind hand on her sister's shoulder.

“Well, Brett wasn’t exactly the ‘prince’ I originally thought he was,” Cordelia replied, “I’ve always been such a nerd and I thought he was cool because he produced music… but at the end of the day, he really didn’t have much direction with his music. I ended up having to take care of him more often than he took care of me. There just wasn’t any balance between us. As much as I love what I do, I tried to change so much about me when I was with Brett. For a while, I felt like I was living two separate lives… And then whenever I tried to show him my interests, Brett would barely pay attention or even try to care. He made me feel like he kept me around for sex alone and it made me feel sick. I put up with this fake persona for three years and I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Wow… I’m really proud of you for walking away, Didi,” Aurora smiled, “So now when you’re with the next guy, you’re gonna make sure he loves you for who YOU are!”

“God, I don’t even want to THINK about the next guy,” Cordelia groaned, “Listen, Aurora, I know you’re just trying to be hopeful for my sake but there comes a time in everybody’s life when they realize that this fairytale bullshit kind of love just doesn’t exist. It’s not like the movies where you turn the corner and magically the man of your dreams is going to swoop you up and carry you off into this beautiful life full of open communication and meaningful sex. It just doesn’t work like that in the real world.”

“Oh...” Aurora said, lowering her head in disappointment.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry,” Cordelia reached out to hug her sister, “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I’ve just been through a lot of crap and I don’t want to see you get hurt like I’ve been. You always look out for me and that’s what makes you the best sister I could ever ask for. I want to do the same for you.”

“I understand,” Aurora said, hugging Cordelia back, “You deserve the best kind of love there is, Didi. Never forget that.”

“You too,” Cordelia smiled, still not wanting to think about love but wanted to comfort Aurora. She figured that even if she was a loser at love, at least she could be happy watching her baby sister live the life she secretly wanted for herself.

After lunch, Cordelia went off to the Fort Washington beaches to pick up some garbage left on the shores and to see if Ruben’s trucks were still around. As she was walking around, Cordelia‘s mind was in a dark place. Memories of her ex making her feel insignificant through his negligence. She started collecting hits of garbage in a giant plastic bag, throwing them in the bag as a way to get some of her anger out. Not only was she mad at Brian for making her feel this way, she was also mad at herself for letting him abuse her for so long. She thought she was smarter than that but she wanted love so badly back then, she’d give up her own sanity.

As Cordelia was approaching the further side of the beach, she smelled smoke from a distance, making her cough in disgust. She quickly pulled out her phone and began to follow the scent. Cordelia noticed two large trucks in the distance making lots of clanking noises and as she got close to it, she saw “Worthington’s Waste Removal” on the side of them. Cordelia was shocked but not too shocked. She turned on her camera and videotaped the two trucks dumping piles and piles of garbage directly into the ocean before driving away.

Soon, the sound of the waves comforted Cordelia like they always did throughout her whole life. Oh whenever she felt frustrated or upset, she would always come down to the shore and let its beautiful sounds guide her through meditation. Her dad taught her how to listen to the ocean because it often held so many answers if she slowed down from the hustle and bustle of everyday life to listen to it. As soon as she moved to the city and discovered this beach, Cordelia continued her family tradition of starting every morning on the shore. It was the Easton way to not only greet the morning sun but also use it as an opportunity to connect to the world that we are all so lucky to be in. She would let the sand massage her tired feet and hands. The cool breeze would blow through her hair, letting its fingers untangle her hair and wrap its arms around her for a comforting hug. As she would listen to the waves, she could swear she heard it sing to her, but she quickly brushed it off. Those same feelings came back to her as she continued to clean up the beach.

“Oh man, Ruben, you’re really making this easy for me…” Cordelia chuckled, “When the world sees you messing with nature, you’re screwed INDEFINITELY!”

As she began to walk away, she almost stepped in a little ditch but quickly caught herself. When she took a step back, she realized that there were about a dozen newly hatched baby sea turtles that were emerging from that little ditch.

“Oh my God!” Cordelia gasped, unable to hide her true colors when seeing cute little baby sea turtles, “Hey little guys! Welcome to the world!”

As Cordelia looked further into the ditch, she noticed that there was garbage surrounding them, making it almost impossible for them to crawl out and into the ocean. Her face began to grow red in anger, suspecting that this was also Ruben‘s fault.

“Son of a bitch…” Cordelia growled, “Oh I swear you’re gonna pay for this!”

Cordelia quickly dropped her phone and garbage bag to clean out the ditch. One by one, she scooped up each baby turtle and brought them closer to the shore. As she watched the baby turtles crawl into the ocean, she scanned the air for seagulls and other animals that would often prey upon them. The coast was clear for most of the baby sea turtles but she began to see a few seagulls begin circling above her head, ready to snatch up the last few babies. Cordelia didn’t always want to interfere with nature’s processes but she couldn’t bear to see the last few babies getting eaten. She quickly scooped up the last few babies and walked into the ocean, letting them swim on their own as soon as they touched the water.

(Illustration by @gmache)

Watching the baby sea turtles swim off to the depths of the ocean brought a sense of fulfilling joy to Cordelia. She could feel tears running down her face but she chose to ignore it, realizing that this was the ocean's answer to her frustrations towards herself. Cordelia knew deep down that she was a caring person and that staying true to herself was how she was going to get the life she deserved. She still wasn’t sure when or where the right person was for her was going to show up but she didn’t need to be in such a rush to find him. She took a deep breath as she let the cool water engulf her in pure tranquility, reminding her that things will soon fall into place.

As Cordelia turned two get out of the ocean, she felt a strong tide suddenly pulled her into the ocean. She tried to fight back with all of her might but soon lost her footing and fell into the water. Before she got the chance to swim back up into the surface, she inhaled too much water and could feel herself being suffocated. Cordelia felt her eyes grow heavy as she began to sink down into the ocean until they finally closed shut.

To be continued…

#switched gears a little bit #but don’t worry #it will all make sense soon #a part of your world #freddiefredfics #king triton au #basically the little mermaid meets kate and leopold and enchanted #orginal content #origional character #fanfics #ao3 fanfic #disney

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bllsbailey · 5 months

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Cheer on Academia Burning Itself Down 👍

Never interrupt your enemy when he/she/they/xe/zorp is making a mistake, and the Ivy Leagues are making a huge one. Talk about getting high on your own supply – for the last few decades, our allegedly prestigious universities have been dealing out highly addictive nonsense to their students, and it looks like they huffed a big rail of it. How else could you explain having three university poohbahs sit there on camera in front of Congress and be unable – or, more likely, unwilling – to say that cheering on Jewish genocide is bad?

Is it bad? Yes. Period. Nothing follows.

They did not say that because they actually do not believe it. To them, Jews are settlers and colonists, and decolonization is, well, messy. The mess being, of course, the blood and guts of the men, women, and children that their semi-human Hamas heroes splattered all over their victims’ homes. Understand that to these bureaucrats and to those in their academic cesspool, this butchery is A-OK. Oh, they will pretend to decry it. They will mutter some qualifications, but what matters to them is context. And they accept the possibility that there is a context that allows mass rape, mutilation, and murder – as long as a designated oppressor is raped, mutilated, or murdered.

What they failed to understand is that normal people do not accept this morally bankrupt paradigm. Oh, they soon found out. When a bunch of alumni who had fond memories of their alma maters suddenly saw what their schools had degenerated into, they stopped writing their zillion-dollar checks. Then the backpedaling began. The head of Penn was canned, but – as of this writing – the head of Harvard seems unlikely to follow. According to CNN – unlike the Harvard head, I believe citation is important – “The Executive Committee of Harvard University’s Alumni Association on Monday announced their unreserved support for President Claudine Gay.” I could not be happier that these tools have tossed another can of gasoline onto the fire burning down their garbage institution.

Recommended

Let’s examine Harvard, the alleged pinnacle of academic achievement and scholarship. It has a multi-billion dollar endowment, which a real Republican Party would tax, but its true power is its reputation. The name “Harvard” is such that any hiring partner at a law firm or brokerage house or wherever has a ready-made excuse if the recruit blows it: “Well, he/she/whatever was from Harvard.”

Or had an excuse. Harvard is not Harvard anymore. The majority of grades given at Harvard are A’s. At one time, “A” stood for “outstanding.” Now, it stands for “average.” The admissions process is no longer merit-based. It is diversity-based, as SCOTUS recently noted when it slapped the college for its racism. Asian and white students need stratospheric grades and more to get in; those whose grandparents hailed from the right continent do not. Diversity is an explicit rejection of merit, though you are not supposed to say it. Well, everyone is seeing it and saying it.

Harvard’s current president is a shining example of diversity in action. She was not hired because she was talented. She is demonstrably untalented. She was hired because she is diverse, meaning she checked boxes that should be meaningless but, in academia, mean everything. She – I am assuming her pronouns – is no brilliant scholar. She published just 11 academic articles in her career. That’s a joke. And her topics were a joke too, the typical race/gender/jargon nonsense that these untalented hacks generate. But the punchline is not that her work is crap. It was that she plagiarized it. It’s not even her crap. Hell, if you are going to steal, steal stuff that’s not garbage. Oh, and be able to speak in public without embarrassing yourself.

But she was not hired for competence and integrity. She was hired both for block-checking and for her promise to put DEI front and center at the university. And she sure has. It’s so front and center that they cannot hide the rot anymore. Her sordid and shameful career demonstrates the problem with prioritizing diversity over merit. You get diversity (of a sort), but you don’t get merit. And merit was the Harvard brand. That was the value of the Harvard diploma. It was shorthand for “This kid is probably pretty smart and will do a good job for you.” But we are seeing that this is no longer true. We are seeing the opposite – these kids are entitled pinko morons strutting around in their keffiyehs being mad that Jews are alive. They are not bright. They are not articulate. They are arrogant and stupid.

That’s the new Harvard brand, and we are all seeing it. But the school cannot change course. Insanely, 600 faculty members signed a letter of support for their plagiarizing prezzy. The alumni committee high-fived her. It hardly matters, though. It’s not a matter of terminating the reign of one thieving mediocrity. The woke cancer has metastasized throughout the school and through all these schools. It infects every corner of them – you now have med schools that talk about prioritizing equity over, you know, curing people.

But people notice. These idiots – no one is as dumb as a university professor or bureaucrat – are undermining their value proposition. When the schools suck, they put out sucky products. People notice. And they are noticing. The fact is that those talented folks who lost a place at Harvard over their pigment and parentage are going to school somewhere, and they are available to employers. People do not have to hire from Harvard. In the law field, many people refuse to hire useless Ivy League junior lawyers – they have been burned too often. This will spread.

Good. The era of these petri dishes of commie indoctrination is ending. They are trashing their reps just as an alternative arises. The internet and AI can provide the world’s best teachers to students anywhere in the world, not just in the Ivies’ hallowed lecture halls. Who needs Harvard? And don’t say, “You do if you want to network.” As they squander their prestige, their network value shrinks. Plus, the GOP is getting sick of them, and soon it will be forced by the voters to turn off the cash spigot and ramp up the investigations over the colleges’ rampant racism.

It is a glorious time to be alive, to watch creative destruction at work. And you could not find a more deserving victim.

Look, we need your help to keep up the fight by joining Townhall VIP right now. You get access to a bunch of great stuff, not the least of which is my extra Wednesday column, the weekly Stream of Kurtiousness videos every Friday, my Unredacted podcast every Monday, my VIP members-only direct email address, and more! Join now! Use promo code SAVEAMERICA for 50% off membership.

Follow Kurt on Twitter @KurtSchlichter. Get the newest volume in the Kelly Turnbull People’s Republic series of conservative action novels set in America after a notional national divorce, the bestselling Amazon #1 Military Thriller, Overlord!

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automaticgardenflower · 1 year

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Gloria Naylor: Kiswana Browne

FROM THE WINDOW of her sixth-floor studio apartment, Kiswana could see over the wall at the end of the street to the busy avenue that lay just north of Brewster Place. The late afternoon shoppers looked like brightly clad marionettes as they moved between the congested traffic, clutching their packages against their bodies to guard them from sudden bursts of the cold autumn wind. A portly mailman had abandoned his cart and was bumping into indignant window shoppers as he puffed behind the cap that the wind had snatched from his head. Kiswana leaned over to see if he was going to be successful, but the edge of the building cut him off from her view.

A pigeon swept across her window, and she marveled at its liquid movements in the air waves. She placed her dreams on the back of the bird and fantasized that it would glide forever in transparent silver circles until it ascended to the center of the universe and was swallowed up. But the wind died down, and she watched with a sigh as the bird beat its wings in awkward, frantic movements to land on the corroded top of a fire escape on the opposite building. This brought her back to earth.

Humph, it’s probably sitting over there crapping on those folks’ fire escape, she thought. Now, that’s a safety hazard… And her mind was busy again, creating flames and smoke and frustrated tenants whose escape was being hindered because they were slipping and sliding in pigeon shit. She watched their cussing, haphazard descent on the fire escapes until they had all reached the bottom. They were milling around, oblivious to their burning apartments, angrily planning to march on the mayor’s office about the pigeons. She materialized placards and banners for them, and they had just reached the corner, boldly sidestepping fire hoses and broken glass, when they all vanished.

A tall copper-skinned woman had met this phantom parade at the corner, and they had dissolved in front of her long confident strides, she plowed through the remains of their faded mists, unconscious of the lingering wisps of their presence on her leather bag and black fur-trimmed coat. It took a few seconds for this transfer from one realm to another to reach Kiswana, but then suddenly she recognized the woman.

”Oh, God, it’s Mama!” she looked down guiltily at the forgotten newspaper in her lap and hurriedly circled random job advertisements.

By this time Mrs. Browne had reached the front of Kiswana’s building and was checking the house number against a piece of paper in her hand. Before she went into the building she stood at the bottom of the stoop and carefully inspected the condition of the street and the adjoining property. Kiswana watched this meticulous inventory with growing annoyance, but she involuntarily followed her mother’s slowly rotating head, forcing herself to see her new neighborhood through the older woman’s eyes. The brightness of the unclouded sky seemed to join forces with her mother as it highlighted every broken stoop tailing and missing brick. The afternoon sun glittered and cascaded across even the tiniest fragments of broken bottle, and at that very moment the wind chose to rise up again, sending upswept grime flying into the air, as a stray tin can left by careless garbage collectors went rolling noisily down the centre of the street.

Kiswana noticed with relief that at least Ben wasn’t sitting in his usual place on the old garbage can pushed against the far wall. He was just a harmless old wino, but Kiswana knew her mother only needed one wino or one teenager with a reefer within a twenty-block radius to decide that her daughter was living in a building seething with dope factories and hangouts for derelicts. If she had seen Ben, nothing would have made her believe that practically every apartment contained a family, a Bible, and a dream that one day enough could be scraped from those meager Friday nigh paychecks to make Brewster Place a distant memory.

As she watched her mother’s head disappeared into the building, Kiswana, gave silent thanks that the elevator was broken. That would give her at least five minutes’ grace to straighten up the apartment. She rushed to the sofa bed and hastily closed it without smoothing the rumpled sheets and blanket or removing her nightgown. She felt that somehow the tangled bedcovers would give away the fact that she had not slept alone last night. She silently apologized to Abshu’s memory as she heartlessly crushed his spirit between the steel springs of the couch. Lord, that man was sweet. Her toes curled involuntarily at the passing thought of his full lips moving slowly over her instep. Abshu was a foot man, and he always started his lovemaking from the bottom up. for that reason Kiswana changed the color of the polish on her toenails every week—to keep things fresh. During the course of their relationship she had gone from shades of red to brown and was now into the purple. I’m gonna have to start mixing them soon, she thought aloud as she turned from the couch and raced into the bathroom to remove any traces of Abshu from there. She took up his shaving cream and razor and threw them into the bottom drawer of her dresser beside the diaphragm. Mama wouldn’t dare pry into my drawers right in front of me, she thought as she slammed the drawer shut. Well, at least not the bottom drawer. She may come up with some sham excuse for opening the top drawer, but never the bottom one.

When she heard the first two short raps on the door, her eyes took a final flight over the small apartment, desperately seeking out any slight misdemeanor that might to be defended. Well, there was nothing she could do about the crack in the wall over that table. She had been after the landlord to fix it for two months now. And there had been no time to sweep the rug, and everyone knew that off-gray always looked dirtier that it really was. And it was just too damn bad about the kitchen. How was she expected to be out job hunting every day and still have time to keep a kitchen that looked like her mother’s, who didn’t even work and still had someone come in twice a month for general cleaning. And besides…

Her imaginary argument was abruptly interrupted by a second series of knocks, accompanied by a penetrating, “Melanie, Melanie, are you there?”

Kiswana strode toward the door. She’s starting before she even gets in here. She knows that’s not my name anymore.

She swung the door open to face her slightly flushed mother.

“Oh, hi, Mama. You know, I thought I heard a knock, but I figured it was for the people next door, since no one hardly ever calls me Melanie.” Score one for me, she thought.

“Well, it’s awfully strange you can forget a name you answered to for twenty-three years,” Mrs. Browne said, as she moved past Kiswana into the apartment. “My, that was a long climb. How long has your elevator been out? Honey, how do you manage with your laundry and groceries up all those steps? But I guess you’re young, and it wouldn’t bother you as much as it does me.”

This long string of questions told Kiswana that her mother had no intentions of beginning her visit with another argument about her new African name.

“You know I would have called before I came, but you don’t have a phone yet. I didn’t want you to feel that I was snooping. As a matter of fact, I didn’t expect to find you home at all. I thought you’d be out looking for a job.” Mrs. Browne had mentally covered the entire apartment while she was talking and taking off her coat.

“Well, I got up late this morning. I thought I’d buy the afternoon paper and start early tomorrow.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Her mother moved toward the window and picked up the discarded paper and glanced over the hurriedly circled ads. “Since when do you have experience as a forklift operator?”

Kiswana caught her breath and silently cursed herself for her stupidity.

“Oh, my hand slipped—I meant to circle file clerk.”

She quickly took the paper before her mother could see that she had also marked cutlery salesman and chauffeur.

“You’re sure you weren’t sitting here moping and daydreaming again?” Amber specks of laughter flashed in the corner of Mrs. Browne’s eyes.

Kiswana threw her shoulders back and unsuccessfully tried to disguise her embarrassment with indignation.

“Oh, God, Mama! I haven’t done that in years—it’s for kids. When are you going to realize that I’m a woman now?” She sought desperately for some womanly thing to do and settled for throwing herself on the couch and crossing her legs in what she hoped looked like a nonchalant are.

“Please, have a seat,” she said, attempting the same tones and gestures she’d seen Bette Davis use on the late movies.

Mrs. Browne, lowering her eyes to hide her amusement, accepted the invitation and sat at the window, also crossing her legs. Kiswana saw immediately how it should have been done. Her celluloid poise clashed loudly against her mother’s quiet dignity, and she quickly uncrossed her legs. Mrs. Browne turned her head toward the window and pretended not to notice.

“At least you have a halfway decent view from here. I was wondering what lay beyond that dreadful wall—it’s the boulevard. Honey, did you know that you can see the trees in Linden Hills from here?”

Kiswana knew that very well, because there were many lonely days that she would sit in her gray apartment and stare at those trees and think of home, but she would rather have choked than admit that to her mother.

“Oh, really, I never noticed. So how is Daddy and things at home?”

“Just fin. We’re thinking of redoing one of the extra bedrooms since you children have moved out, but Wilson insists that he can manage all that work on his own. I told him that he doesn’t really have the proper time or energy for all of that. As it is, when he gets home from the office, he is so tired he can hardly move. But you know you can’t tell your father anything. Whenever he starts complaining about how stubborn you are, I tell him the child came by it honestly. Oh, and your brother was by yesterday,” she added, as if it had just occurred to her.

So that’s it, thought Kiswana. That’s why she’s here.

Kiswana’s brother, Wilson, had been to visit her two days ago, and she had borrowed twenty dollars from him to get her winter coat out of layaway. That son-of-a-bitch probably ran straight to Mama—and after he swore he wouldn’t say anything. I should have known, he was always a snotty-nosed sneak, she thought.

“Was he?” she said aloud. “He came by to see me, too, earlier this week. And I borrowed some money from him because my unemployment checks hadn’t cleared in the bank, but now they have and everything’s just fine.” There, I’ll beat you to that one.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Mrs. Browne lied. “He never mentioned you. he had just heard that Beverly was expecting again, and he rushed over to tell us.”

Damn. Kiswana could have strangled herself.

“So she’s knocked up again, huh?” she said irritably.

Her mother started. “Why do you always have to be so crude?”

“Personally, I don’t see how she can sleep with Willie. He’s such a dishrag.”

Kiswana still resented the stance her brother had taken in college. When everyone at school was discovering their blackness and protesting on campus, Wilson never took part; he had even refused to wear an Afro. This had outraged Kiswana because, unlike her, he was dark skinned and had the type of hair that was thick and kinky enough for a good “Fro”. Kiswana had still insisted on cutting her own hair, but it was so thin and fine textured, it refused to thicken even after she washed it. So she had to brush it up and spray it with lacquer to keep it from lying flat. She never forgave Wilson for telling her that she didn’t look African, she looked like an electrocuted chicken.

“Now that’s some way to talk. I don’t know why you have an attitude against your brother. He never gave me a restless night’s sleep, and now he’s settled with a family and a good job.”

“He’s an assistant to an assistant junior partner in a law firm. What’s the big deal about that?”

“The job has a future, Melanie. And at least he finished school and went on for his law degree.”

“In other words, not like me, huh?”

“Don’t put words into my mouth, young lady. I’m perfectly capable of saying what I mean.”

Amen, thought Kiswena.

“And I don’t know why you’ve been trying to start up with me from the moment I walked in. I didn’t come here to fight with you. this is your first place away from home, and I just wanted to see how you were living and if you’re doing all right. And I must say, you’ve fixed this apartment up very nicely.”

“Really, Mama?” she found herself softening in the light of her mother’s a approval.

“Well, considering what you had to work with.”

This time she scanned the apartment openly.

“Look, I know it’s not Linden Hills, but a lot can be done with it. As soon as they come and paint, I’m going to hang my Ashanti print over the couch. And I thought a bit Boston Fern would go well in that corner. What do you think?

”That would be fine, baby. You always had a good eye for balance.”

Kiswana was beginning to relax. There was little she did that attracted her mother’s approval. It was like a rare bird, and she had to tread carefully around it lest it fly away.

“Are you going to leave that statue out like that?”

“Why, what’s wrong with it? Would it look better somewhere else?”

There was a small wooden reproduction of a Yoruba goddess with large protruding breasts on the coffee table.

“Well,” Mrs. Browne was beginning to blush, “it’s just that it’s a bit suggestive, don’t you think? Since you live alone now, and I know you’ll be having male friends stop by, you wouldn’t want to be giving them any ideas. I mean, uh, you know, there’s no point in putting yourself in any unpleasant situations because they may get the wrong impressions and uh, you know, I mean, well…” Mrs. Browne stammered on miserably.

Kiswana loved it when her mother tried to talk about sex. It was the only time she was at a loss for words.

“Don’t worry, Mama.” Kiswana smiled. “That wouldn’t bother the type of men I date. Now maybe if it had big feet…” And she got hysterical, thinking of Abshu.

Her mother looked at her sharply.

“What sort of gibberish is that about feet? I’m being serious, Melanie.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.” She sobered up. “I’ll put it away in the closet,” she said, knowing that she wouldn’t.

“Good!” Mrs. Browne said, knowing that she wouldn’t either. “I guess you think I’m too picky, but we worry about you over here. And you refuse to put in a phone so we can call and see about you.”

“I haven’t refused, Mama. They want seventy-five dollars for a deposit, and I can’t swing that right now.”

“Melanie, I can give you the money.”

“I don’t want you to be giving me money—I’ve told you that before. Please, let me make it by myself.”

“Well, let me lend it to you, then.”

“No!”

“Oh, so you can borrow money from your brother, but not from me.”

Kiswana turned her head from the hurt in her mother’s eyes.

“Mama, when I borrow from Willie, he makes me pay him back. You never let me pay you back,” she said into her hands.

“I don’t care. I still think it’s downright selfish of you to be sitting over here with no phone, and sometimes we don’t hear from you in two weeks—anything could happen, anything could happen to you—especially living among these people.”

Kiswana snapped her head up.

“What do you mean, these people. They’re my people, and yours too. Mama, we’re all back. But maybe you’ve forgotten that over in Linden Hills.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. These streets—this building—it’s so shabby and rundown. Honey, you don’t have to live like this.”

“Well, this is how poor people live.”

“Melanie, you’re not poor.”

“No, Mama, you are not poor. And what you have and I have are two totally different things. I don’t have a husband in real estate with a five-figure income and a home in Linden Hills—you do. what I have is a weekly unemployment check and an overdrawn checking account at United Federal. So this studio on Brewster is all I can afford.”

“Well, you could afford a lot better!” Mrs. Browne snapped. “If you hadn’t dropped out of college and had to resort to these dead-end clerical jobs.”

“Uh-huh, I knew you’d get around to that before long.”

Kiswana could feel the rings of anger begin to tighten around her lower backbone, and they sent her forward onto the couch. “You’ll never understand, will you? Those bourgie schools were counterrevolutionary. My place was in the streets with my people, fighting for equality and a better community.”

“Counterrevolutionary!” Mrs. Browne was raising her voice. “Where’s your revolution now, Melanie? Where are all those black revolutionaries who were shouting and demonstrating and kicking up a lot of dust with you on that campus? Huh? They’re sitting in wood-paneled offices with their degrees in mahogany frames, and they won’t even drive their cars past this street because the city doesn’t fix potholes in this part of town.”

“Mama, how can you—a black woman—sit there and tell me that what we fought for during the Movement wasn’t important just because some people sold out?” she said, shaking her head slowly in disbelief.

“Melanie, I’m not saying that it wasn’t important. It was damned important to stand up and say that you were proud of what you were and to get the vote and other social opportunities for every person in this country who had it due. But you kids thought you were going to turn this world around, completely upside down, and it just wasn’t so. When all the smoke had cleared you found herself with a fistful of new federal laws and a country still full of obstacles for black people to fight their way over—just because they’re black. There was no revolution, Melanie, and there will be no revolution,”

“So what am I supposed to do, huh? Just throw up my hands and not care about what happens to my people? I’m not supposed to keep fighting to make things better?”

“Of course you can. But you’re going to have to fight within the system, because it and these so-called ‘’bourgie’ schools are going to be here for a long time. And. That means that you get smart like a lot of your old friends and get an important job where you can have some influence. You don’t have to sell out, as you say, and work for some corporation, but you could become an assemblywoman or a civil liberties lawyer or open a freedom school in this very neighbourhood. That way you could really help the community. But what help are you going to be to these people on Brewster while you’re living hand-to-mouth on file-clerk jobs waiting for a revolution? You’re wasting your talents, child.”

“Well, I don’t think they are being wasted. At least I’m here in day-to-day contact with the problems of my people. What good would I be after four or five years of a lot of white brainwashing in some phone, prestige institution, huh? I’d be like you and Daddy and those other educated blacks sitting over there in Linden Hills with a terminal case of middle-class amnesia.”

“You don’t have to live in a slum to be concerned about social conditions, Melanie. Your father and I have been charter members of the NAACP for the last twenty-five years.”

“Oh, God!” Kiswana threw her head back in exaggerated disgust. “That’s being concerned? That middle-of-the-road, Uncle Tom dumping ground for black Republicans.”

“You can sneer all you want, young lady, but the organization has been working for black people since the turn of the century, and it’s still working for them. Where are all those radical groups of yours that were going to put a Cadillac in every garage and Dick Gregory in the White House? I’ll tell you where.”

I knew you would, Kiswana thought angrily.

“They burned themselves out because they wanted too much too fast. Their goals weren’t grounded in reality. And that’s always been your problem.”

“What do you mean, my problem? I know exactly what I’m about.”

“No, you don’t. You constantly live in a fantasy world—always going to extremes—turning butterflies into eagles, and life isn’t about that. Lord, I remember how worried you had me, putting all that lacquered hair spray on your head. I thought you were going to get lung cancer—trying to be what you’re not.”

Kiswana jumped up from the couch.

“Oh, God, I can’t take this anymore. Trying to be something I’m not—trying to be something I’m not, Mama! Trying to be proud of my heritage and the fact that I was of African descent. If that’s being what I’m not, then I say fine. But I’d rather be dead than be like you—a white man’s nigger who’s ashamed of being black!”

Kiswana saw streaks of gold and ebony light follow her mother’s flying body out of the chair. She was swung around by the shoulders and made to face the deadly stillness in the angry woman’s eyes. She was too stunned to cry out from the pain of the long fingernails that dug into her shoulders, and she was brought so close to her mother’s face that she saw her reflection, distorted and wavering, in the tears that stood in the older woman’s eyes. And she listening in that stillness to a story she had heard from a child.

“My grandmother,” Mrs. Browne began slowly in a whisper, “was a full-blooded Iroquois, and my grandfather a free black from a long line of journeymen who had lived in Connecticut since the establishment of the colonies. And my father was a Bajan who came to this country as a cabin boy on a merchant mariner.”

“I know all that,” Kiswana said, trying to keep her lips from trembling.

“Then, know this.” And the nails dug deeper into her flesh. “I am alive because of the blood of proud people who never scraped or begged or apologised for what they were. They lived asking only one. Thing of this owrld—to be allowed to be. And I learned through the blood of these people that black isn’t beautiful and it isn’t ugly—black is! It’s not kinky hair and it’s not straight hair—it just is. It broke my heart when you changed your na.e I gave you my grandmother’s name, a woman who bore nine children and educated them all, who held off six white men with a shotgun when they tried to drag one of her sons to jail for ‘not knowing his place.’ Yet you needed to reach into an African dictionary to find a name to make you proud. When I brought my babies home from hospital, my ebony son and my golden daughter, I swore before whatever gods would listen—those of my mother’s people or those of my father’s people—that I would use everything I had and could ever get to see that my children were prepared to meet this world on its own terms, so that no one could sell them short and make them ashamed of what they were or how they looked—whatever they are or however they looked. And Melanie, that’s not being white or red or black—that’s being a mother.”

Kiswana followed her reflection in the two single tears that moved down her mother’s cheeks until it blended with them into the woman’s copper skin. There was nothing and then so much that she wanted to say, but her throat kept closing up every time she tried to speak. She kept her head down and her eyes closed, and thought. Oh, God, just let me die. How can I face her now?

Mrs Browne lifted Kiswana’s chin gently. “And the one lesson I wanted you to learn is not to be afraid to face anyone, not even a crafty old lady like me who can outtalk you.” And she smiled and winked.

“Oh, Mama, I…” and she hugged the woman tightly.

“Yeah, baby.” Mrs. Browne patted her back. “I know.”

She kissed Kiswana on the forehead and cleared her throat. “Well, now. I better be moving on. It’s getting late, there’s dinner to be made, and I have to get off my feet—these new shoes are killing me.”

Kiswana looked down at the beige leather pumps. “Those are really classy. They’re English, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but Lord, do they cut me right across the instep.” She removed the shoe and sat on the couch to massage her foot.

Bright red nail polish glared at Kiswana through the stockings. “Since when do you polish your toenails?” She gasped. “You never did that before.”

“Well…” Mrs. Browne shrugged her shoulders, “your father sort of talked me into it, and, uy, you know, he likes it and all, so I thought, uh, you know, why not so…” And she gave Kiswana an embarrassed smile.

I’ll be damned, the young woman thought, feeling her whole face tingle. Daddy into feet! And she looked at the blushing woman on her couch and suddenly realized that her mother had trod through the same universe that she herself was now traveling. Kiswana was breaking no new trails and would eventually end up just wo feet away on that couch. She stared at the woman she had been and was to become.

“But I’ll never be a Republican,” she caught herself saying aloud.

“What are you mumbling about, Melanie?” Mrs. Browne slipped on her shoe and got up from the couch.

She went to get her mother’s coat. “Nothing, Mama. It’s really nice of you to come by. You should do it more often.”

“Well, since it’s not Sunday, I guess you’re allowed at least one lie.”

They both laughed.

After Kiswana had closed the door and. Turned around, she spotted an envelop sticking between the cushions of her couch. She went over it and opened it up; there was seventy-five dollars in it.

“Oh, Mama, darn it” She rushed to the window and started to call to the woman, who had just emerged from the building, but she suddenly changed her mind and sat down in the chair with a long sigh that caught in the upward draft of the autumn wind and disappeared over the top of the building.

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docnomore · 2 years

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In Desert Storm, we were made to take a drug not manufactured in the US or approved by the FDA. In combat, we fought while wearing rubberized gear that was charcoal lined and gas masks. It was cumbersome and slowed down movement, so under small arms fire, running from fighting hole to fighting hole made me an easier target. We spent a day and a half inside a burning oil field that rendered our gas masks immediately inoperable. The filters clogged with oil mist and charred debris. We took off the masks trying to breathe. We wore bandanas but they too clogged quickly. The answer was to mouth breathe through gritted teeth, constantly spitting out the oil and garbage until we were ordered to move out. It took me a little over five years to quit coughing up black crap from my lungs.

I came back to the states, had to get a dental exam, got an ear full about not brushing my teeth for the better part of 8 months - I used my tooth brush to keep my weapon clean. And we discovered out of no where, I had high blood pressure. I lost 13 men in three nights of intense combat. At one point, our position got bombed to which our eardrums took a serious pounding. All, was documented including psych consults for PTSD. Upon retirement, transferring health care over to the VA proved as big a struggle as combat. I was “awarded” 10% disability for tinnitus. Repeatedly, they denied hearing loss, lung damage, PTSD, high blood pressure and stuck to the 10%. 20 years of fighting and finally was given hearing aids and again shoved out the door.

Three months ago, I did my annual physical with my civilian doctor. Blood work came back showing elevated hematocrit and hemoglobin counts. Asked what to do about it, I told him to wait three months and then revisit it. Last week, we revisited it and nothing has changed. He’s sending me to hematology. Honestly, if he knew 100% of my history, this would be a bad call. Instead of hematology, I should be going to Pulmonology. He doesn’t know, and so I’m going with the slight misstep. Be interesting to see what Hemo comes up with. Truth is, the elevated counts are more than likely precursors to COPD, directly related to combat in the oil fields the VA says rates nothing. Going to be a long, slow, miserable journey to the end. When you’re young, even with death hovering directly over you, it’s a fight you believe you can win. Comes a point when the truth is at last accepted. It’s a fight no one wins. My young detractors here, last week telling me to die, will be happy to know it is happening sooner than later. Still, not soon enough for those claiming empathy and inclusiveness. Their turn is coming.

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murfeelee · 2 years

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The Witcher Season 2 - OMG!?

Anyone who’s been on my blog long enough knows I’m a Witcher fangirl, specifically the video games and especially TW3, which IMO is one of the best games ever made. I’m not wild about the books, but I appreciate them as references for backstories & deeper understanding of the source material. But Game of Thrones already taught me not to get married to the books expecting anything to go right with these effing adaptations. So most of the changes the show made have been fine with me so far (weird flexes, but ok)--up until now.

I liked The Witcher Season 1. B+, 8.5/10, good job! But I felt it came dangerously close to messing everything up a few times, so I was praying hard that Season 2 would take all the feedback it got and make some CRUCIAL changes. But I stayed away from all the trailers and news this time, in order to not get too invested too soon. I just binge watched Season 2 yesterday, and omg do I have things to discuss. They crossed a line here, and now I’m torn.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: MY THOUGHTS (SPOILERS)

THE GOOD

THE STORY

There’s no more convoluted timeline garbage! 🎉🥂 This time the plot stayed on track thank goodness, with no more bouncing around between the past and the present, that was annoying AF and good on them for not going that route. The few times we did get scenes from the past, it was 100% clear that this was a flashback/dream sequence/etc, but that the actual plot was directly following the events after the Battle at Sodden, as we followed 3 main groups: Geralt & Ciri, Tissaia & Yennefer (& Cahir), and surprisingly enough, Fringilla & Francesca (& Cahir)--which I REALLY enjoyed!

Fringilla was WORKING this season, and I loved her and Francesca together. Don’t think I didn’t notice how they had Fringilla in that same effing grey dress for like 6 episodes straight, meanwhile Francesca had a new dress every episode, WTF? Is it just me or did they have the MOST screentime out of everyone on the show? Or I guess theirs was the only plot that really went somewhere with Nilfgaard’s machinations--they were hyping up King Emhyr’s arrival for like 3 episodes, so by the end his reveal was everything I wanted it to be!

This was the best cliffhanger, because this reveal was shocking for game players who hadn’t read the books beforehand. We already know who he is in the PRESENT timeline, though now the tv show’s provided us with more of his context in the PAST. So once again, I have to say that Season 1 Episode 4 with Pavetta & Duny was THE BEST EPISODE; WELL DONE!

Back to Fringilla & Francesca though. They were awesome! Even with the satanic crap they were embroiled in together, I liked how the show twisted the Demon Mother into their plotlines, as I’m interested to see how it’ll affect their relations with Nilfgaard in the Lodge of Sorceresses (especially Francesca’s--I LOVE the baby angle they used!), if the show carries on that far.

(I’m starting to get the sense that the entire Witcher show will end with the Lodge of Sorceresses taking over the Brotherhood of Sorcerers--ohhhh, Vigelfortz, you GORGEOUS mofo--you ain’t slick! Raise your voice at Mama Tissaia again, I dare you! I already owe you a knuckle sandwich for Regis, don’t try me!)

THE...MAGIC....?

Yennefer I effing love you, woman.

Fire and burning seemed to really be a theme this season, huh?

youtube

(ISTG they casted Dandelion perfectly, LOL.)

Say what y’all will about Yennefer losing her powers not being book/game canon, but I’ve already gone through this exact same story plot with Magnus Bane in Shadowhunters, and as cancerous as it is, it WORKS. Those characters do dumb things, and it really drives the plot. It’s interesting how Triss is more book canon here, since she’s a herbal mage not a fire mage like in the games. Which makes sense if fire magic is supposedly so bad to use that it ate Yenn’s Chaos completely. And it puts it into better perspective how fire mages like Rience (and others) are such bad news. (Regis, you shall be avenged!!)

Clearly, Netflix is going in a different direction--I thought the whole “Chaos" vs “Magic” emphasis in S1 was weird, but now it makes more sense. I like what they’re doing with the Conjunction of the Spheres, and the Monoliths (how TF the witchers didn’t spot the one in Kaer Morhen is beyond me!), and how Yennefer regained her Chaos after absorbing an ancient creature from the Conjunction, who just wanted to go back home. 🥺 And AWWWWWW SHIZZ!

A wild Hunt appears!

THE MONSTERS

I saw a few reviews freaking out because Fringilla & The Demon Mother took on some of the moments/aspects of the video game fan-favorite demon Gaunter O’Dimm. I myself have done my fair share of gushing over O’Dimm, so I get it! But O’Dimm isn’t even book canon, and his demonic aspects were only revealed in the DLC, so I think it makes sense that he was up for grabs to be fiddled with for the tv show. There is arguably no more iconic Polish/Eastern European demon related to witches & sorcery & monsters than the homegirl Baba Yaga, so I actually wish they had done a bit MORE with her--and lo and behold, the Blood Origin spinoff series looks like it might end up doing just that, since the First Witchers took down Voleth Meir after the Conjunction. So I’m happy; bring on her haunted hut!

Another monster homage I absolutely loved was straight out the gate in Episode 1 -- they got the Beauty and the Beast vibes DOWN PAT!!! Nivellen was awesome, not surprising coming from my boy Tormund!

Best episode of Season 2, fight me on this. I LOOOOVED Vireena, she was SO GOOD.

THE ACTING

Once again, the acting was quite excellent. Nivellen and Vereena really set the bar for the season in S2E1, and the rest of the episodes do not disappoint. And hold the phone--WAS THAT GERALT USING WORDS? With SyLlaBLeS!? Were those SPEAKING LINES? I guess we gotta throw out the memes now! U_U

I was very impressed--I’ve never been crazy about Cavill as an actor (I was PETRIFIED when he was first announced), but he seems to have shaken off whatever it was that’s been holding him back, and really emoting more.

And speaking of emoting....

THE WITCHERS - KAER MORHEN FTW!

Omg I was waiting for this.

Ahhh, that takes me back! Ciri Witcher Training Hype!

It was SO NICE to see all the witchers taking part in Ciri’s training! It cannot be overstated that Ciri is a BEAST when she gets older, holy crap, she’s a better fighter than GERALT, and I NEED a Witcher 4 game playing as Ciri, NEED. So getting to see where she picked up all her various skills & spunk was chef’s kiss.

So yes, I loved the time Netflix spent on Kaer Morhen, and getting to see the witchers in their natural habitat, and I even liked Triss being there to give Ciri some female companionship in that testosterone-riddled madhouse.

And omg they actually did it, and dyed Triss’ hair red, frikkin FINALLY. ^0^ Color her eyebrows please, and Ciri’s too, kay thanks.

There were actually quite a few nice video game easter eggs!

THE MEDALLION!!!! 😭 I nearly jumped out of my seat when I saw it, that is STRAIGHT outta the games, which is EFFING HILARIOUS, considering the stink they made about not using it on the show for whatever stupid effing reason.

And UNCLE VESEMIR!! 💔

Another direct-from-game treat, cuz they could’ve stuck to the books/Polish Hexer show’s Vesemir/Old Witcher instead, which....no thank you. ^_^

When I tell you I CHOKED UP!

That’s where the parallels pretty much end though, going from meh to bad to worse, but this is the Good section. The best non-parallel was the castle itself. The exterior had none of the continuity from the games, but it was fine--an appropriately ruined husk. I haven’t seen the cartoon movie with young!Vesemir yet, where they show off how Kaer Morhen was sacked, but I get it.

And the BAMF action we got from the Wolf School was awesome--their Toxicity STILL makes them look like frikkin vampire demons it’s AWFUL, but whatever, I can’t keep quiet anymore--

THE BAD

WHO TF ARE THESE PEOPLE?

I’m talking about YOU TWO--license and registration RIGHT NOW.

Ain’t no way.

No effing way.

HOOOOOOOW?!!!

Y’all DO know the witchers called GERALT the “pretty boy" of the group for a reason, right?

Odd AF casting choices right there, but okay, fine, I’m not gonna complain about having more EYE CANDY, I guess. Let’s get straight on to

THE UGLY

Who do I sue?

WHO 👏 DO 👏 I 👏 SUE 👏

Other people have said it better than I could, how effing unnecessarily stupid the decision was to kill off Eskel, but I need to say my piece, for catharsis, ok.

Listen. I genuinely liked the corrupted Leshen angle. The Leshen/Spriggans are some of my absolute FAVORITE monsters in the Witcher universe, I actually love them!

And it was SO COOL how they incorporated the Myriapods as the new Conjunction monsters who corrupted the Leshen--bug infestations in trees, with a supernatural twist, LOL. Particularly since we’ve seen these nasty effing things in the games!

And I was really interested in how the Myriapod was trying to communicate with Ciri, and how that was all tied in to the Monoliths, as these abominations are literally lost in space, and as The Lady of Time and Space, Ciri’s the only one who can help them go back home, rather than be hunted down by Witchers just cuz they’re dangerous to humans (oh no, such precious innocents.... 🙄 ).

I was even fine with Eskel being possessed/infected, and needing Geralt to help cure him.

Even when it got bad, I was still reserving judgement, because I know that he’s fine in the books/games!

https://redanianintelligence.com/2021/12/20/the-witcher-showrunner-addresses-season-2s-controversial-eskel-storyline/

But you mean to tell me that NO ONE ELSE could’ve gotten that across? It HAD to be Eskel, the BEST swordsman and fan-favorite witcher, who is KNOWN to have NOT died in the books/games, and in fact has one of the most BAMF MOMENTS IN THE FRANCHISE!?

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https://redanianintelligence.com/2021/12/20/the-witcher-showrunner-addresses-season-2s-controversial-eskel-storyline/

First off, WHO TF is JOHN!? You mean you couldn’t have used BERENGAR, or even LEO? Like, tying in Vesemir’s desperation to protect the last generation of witchers/mutagens, with Leo as the last mentor they took in, who got killed by Salamandra in TW1 when they stole the mutagens--the same way Rience stole the mutagen this season--DUH! Hell, even killing off LAMBERT would’ve made more sense, since half the gaming fandom didn’t like him anyway (he’s a douchecanoe on the tv show too, so it tracks)! And his death would have then been doubly impactful for Geralt AND Ciri, since she does so much training with Lambert. DDDUUUUUHHHHH!

And then y’all had wolves EAT Eskel’s CORRUPTED tree-bark riddled corpse!?

I’m going to frikkin vomit, WHAT THE LITERAL HELL!?

________________________________________________

*woosaaaaah~!*

I REALLY liked Season 2. MASSIVE improvement over Season 1.

I feel like giving it a 9/10/A- is just....I guess it’s FAIR, since they did a genuinely great job overall.

But the Eskel bit REALLY pisses me off! It totally sours an amazing experience and connection I have to a favorite character, and the monsters associated with his “death.” A LESHEN? Omfg.

#NotMyEskel

So yeah, Season 2 really was very enjoyable, other than that effery. When the show is released on discs or whatever, they’d better dub over every single instance where they say Eskel’s name, and call him frikkin John.

#the witcher #must see tv #the witcher 3 #video games #not my eskel #RANT ALERT

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telltaleclerk · 3 years

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content creator appreciation!! list five favourite sets/art/fic you've made and send this ask to five other content creators! 💕

(Spreading some love and self appreciation to amazing content creators! If 5 overwhelms you, choose one, or three! Whatever suits you)

Holy crap thank you!!!

I'm so on board for this!

I love encouraging people to love the stuff they create. I see too many artists/writers down on themselves... talking about how the stuff they make is garbage etc... NO! You created something that wouldn't exist if you weren't here. And it's amazing!

Ok... so here goes...

I'm going to try to mix this up a bit and pick from several fandoms instead of all from one:

1. Burning Down the House - Crossover fic - MacGyver (2016)/9-1-1 - Mac/Buck - This idea slowly crept up on me and was supposed to be MUCH shorter than it ended up being... and I love them TOO much and am now thinking about writing more in this verse. Basically: Mac keeps causing problems at his house and in his neighbourhood when doing experiments and the 118 is his local fire station. So the firefam meet Mac many times over the years and Buck and Mac build some epic chemistry and then Buck asks Mac out when he gets seriously hurt.

2. Mind the Gap - Teen Wolf - Sterek - My first posted Sterek has a special place in my heart. Basically, Derek is broken but Stiles can and does wait. And then helps put him back together.

3. Eyes the Colour of the Ocean - Hawaii Five-0 (2010) - McDanno - Soulmate AU where you see black and white until you touch your soulmate for the first time and then you see colour. Rewriting of the first episode. I don't know why but I love this one a LOT. It just stuck with me.

4. Cabin Under the Stars - MacGyver (2016) - MacDalton - AU where Mac works for NASA and Jack is still with the CIA... they meet by chance at a cabin in the woods. The rest is adorable and smutty history. This is one of my all time favourite things I've written. I love it a lot.

5. To Tie a Knot - Merlin - Merthur - This is not an ABO fic despite the title. Just a love confessions thing. Arthur's being urged to find himself a bride... but he wants the one person he can't have. Merlin is oblivious and adorable.

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leafs-lover · 3 years

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We could be friends

A/N: This is a requested piece for Matthew Tkachuck. I struggled a bit, changing the intro a few times so I hope it flows well.

Summary: A few months after a breakup you go out with some of the Flames players for a couple drinks. You end up having a wild night with Matthew Tkachuk after you both admit to wanting this for a while.

Warnings: Drinking, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), maybe something else?

Word Count: 6400

“Hanifin" you call out “you’re getting mic'd up tonight.”

He smiles while nodding to you and continues down the hall. You work for the flames as a member of the social media team, have for the past 4 and a half months. You don’t really know a lot of the players on a personal level, most of them make casual small talk with you.

Your interactions are kept relatively short, especially on game days. Players have a ritual, and you don’t want to intrude on their process. Beyond that you help with coordinating the media for team events, whether they are charity events or ones organized by the PR. During some of those events you get the opportunity to mingle a bit with the players, but as you are still at work you keep it professional.

After the game you are in the locker room unclipping the mic from Noah. Some players are conducting interviews while others have wandered off for a postgame treatment.

“You coming tonight?”

You aren’t sure if he is talking to you, even half full the room is buzzing; the boys are coming off a big win. You look up at the 6’3” defenseman who is easily 2 inches taller on his skates; he took his jersey off but waiting for the mic to come off to remove his chest protector before continuing. His light blue eyes stare down at you as he waits your response.

“Coming where?” you ask turning the mic off.

“A few of us were going to grab some drinks. Didn’t know if you were joining us” he explains.

“Nah (Y/N) doesn’t come out. I’ve tried as few times but she always scurries home to her boyfriend” Tkachuk jokes coming to his stall beside Noah’s.

Another reason why you don’t have any real relationships with the players is Mark. You have been dating for a while, and he is insecure about the fact that you work around all men, attractive men. If you spent some time outside the hockey rink you likely would have some knowledge on the boys besides their ridiculous nicknames for each other.

You haven’t wanted to cause any ripples so you never ventured out with the team. And honestly you weren’t too upset about it, after working a long day you enjoyed coming home and curling up in bed with Mark. But that all changed when you came home from the road trip a few weeks ago and found him in bed with Sarah, someone you thought was your good friend.

You shoot Matt a glance and turn back to Noah “you know I think I might come tonight” you say, turning around and walking away out of the locker room.

2 hours later you are sitting at the booth with a couple players. You quickly ran home after the game and touched up your makeup and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and your black long sleeve turtle neck. The bar is slightly casual but you don’t want to be under dressed so you throw on a pair of short heeled booties and a simple gold chain to dress it up.

A few of the older players and their significant others recently left as the time is encroaching on midnight. Some of the other players are scattered around the bar, you see Matt by the bar talking to a red head who is wearing a dress that is way too tight, and should likely have more fabric given the cool Calgary temperatures. She is laughing at one of his jokes, her hand lightly touching his forearm.

“He’s always like this” Noah says from across the table. “Makes a big deal about getting us out, team bonding and crap then wanders off never to be seen again.” You laugh hearing him say this and Noah gets up to go to the bathroom. You look down at your drink and see its basically melted ice at this point and get up heading to the bar.

As you wait for the bartender’s attention you feel a body brush up against you, you glace out the side of your eye and see light brown hair and immediately knowing who is there. The bartender walks over and you order another drink and Noah does too.

“So Matt said you have a boyfriend” he asks, you can tell he is just making small talk and doesn’t really know what to lead with.

“Uh we broke up” you respond.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be, he was a crappy boyfriend I just wish I saw it sooner” before you have a chance to continue talking and change the subject a body presses between the two of you throwing an arm over both your shoulders.

“I can’t believe we finally get you out, and you decide to drink that garbage. I know you didn’t drink a lot but come on, 15 year olds drink that. Thought you would have acquired some tolerance by now” Matt says mocking your safe beer choice. “No hard liquor, and you went for a light beer too.”

Without responding you flag the bartender down who walks up to you “can I get four tequila shots?”

You turn your attention back to Matt “I like the taste of beer. But I went to school for communication I learned how to handle my alcohol” you say throwing back one of the tequila shots with ease.

“No salt or lime?” Noah asks watching you.

“Don’t need training wheels” you reply handing each of the boys a shot.

“Nah I’m good. I learned a while ago not to drink that poison. Have fun” he jokes setting his shot down and walking away.

“Guess you have to take two” you say as Matt shifts more of his weight to you, his hand sliding down to your mid back. You look around him to the red head that is shooting you daggers as she watches her hard work begin to unravel. You chuckle slightly because you know you won’t be going home with Matt tonight, given the choice he would obviously take home the red head.

Matt throws the first shot back, making a face as it burns going down his throat. He sets the empty glass on the bar before pulling your face close to his mouth so he doesn’t have to yell over the music.

“Maybe you should give me the passcode for your phone. That way when you start puking in the bathroom I can call your boyfriend to come get you” he jokes taking a sip of his whiskey.

“I’ll be fine, besides your little friend won’t take too kindly to me handing you my phone. She already looks like she is going to kill me just for talking to you.” You pass him the second shot and you both cheers before throwing it back, feeling the liquid slide down your throat. Matt gently squeezes your waist, likely an involuntary response to the burning from the tequila.

“I’m not too worried about her” he says placing the glass on the counter and sliding his hand further down your back, his pinky an inch above your jeans. You begin to feel a fire ignite in your core, a feeling you haven’t felt in a while. You play it off as the tequila playing games on you, you’re reading into this. There is no way Matt is flirting with you, he likely hasn’t even noticed where his hand is resting.

“So is your boy out of town or something?” he asks. You shoot him a questioning glance “you never come out, figured if you are it’s because he is away and won’t know” he continues. You flag down the bartender and motion for three more shots.

You don’t answer instead you turn your body slightly to face the bar, but stick your ass out a bit. You immediately throw one of the shots back, wincing slightly at the burn. You feel Matt’s hand slide off your back before you speak “no he is in town I think.”

“You think?” he asks sliding up beside you, leaning on his arm against the bar.

“Well I stopped caring what he was doing or where he was going when we broke up” you explain looking up at his dirty blonde curls.

“Oh sorry to hear that” he says smirking.

“No you’re not” you laugh back at him.

“Yeah, break ups suck. If you need anything, I mean I know we don’t know each other that well…”

“I’ve been doing alright, and these tequila I put on your tab have also helped” you smile at him inching closer to him. “But it happened like almost 2 months ago, so I’m actually pretty good.

“Two months, how did you keep it a secret?”

“Well it happened right before Christmas, and after the break there was the road trip but I didn’t go on it. And then it was all-star break. Haven’t actually worked a lot, and we aren’t really that good of friends. I didn’t consider you a top priority in informing of my personal life” you explain taking another shot.

Matt stands at the bar, holding the shot in his hand. He sways it in his hands staring at you for a minute. “Maybe we can change that” he says taking the shot, placing the glass upside down on the bar.

“Change what?” you ask.

“Us not being friends, we could be friends” he says moving closer, his thigh pressing against you. You roll your eyes at him “why can’t we be friends? We can go shopping, grab lunch. Send some text messages, maybe see a movie every now and then” his mouth is inches from your ear. You feel your knees get weak, wetness pooling in your core as you breathe in his cologne.

“Matty” you hear someone calls from behind you. Matt steps away from you and turns his attention to the voice, you look over your shoulder even though you know who is there. Up close you notice how her boobs are practically popping from her dress, and she likely spent hours doing her hair and makeup.

“Yeah” he replies slightly annoyed.

She walks up to him and is practically pressed against you, pushing you out of the way trying to capture his attention.

“Want to do a shot?” she asks coyly.

“You know I think I’m good, we’ve already done a couple” he says eyeing over to you. The red head follows his gaze, shooting you a scowl.

“Well I think we we’re thinking of heading to another bar soon anyways. This place is getting kind of boring.”

“Oh well have fun” he says to her. You immediately see anger bubble in her face, you turn away so she doesn’t see you laugh.

“You don’t want to come?” she whines.

“No I think I’m going to stay and chat with my good friend (Y/N). You have a good night.” He turns his back to her and you hear her huff out a breath of air as her heels click away. Matt looks at you and see’s the large grin on your face and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know what was better. That little interaction or you calling me your good friend.” “We could be good friends, she doesn’t know” he retorts putting his elbows on the bar beside you. “So tell me friend why did you and your boyfriend break up?”

Your eyes narrow slightly as you stare at him “good friends know about each other’s relationships. Like as my good friend you know I am single.”

He stops talking waiting for your response “he slept with my good friend Sarah. Part of the reason I’m not looking for any more good friends at the moment” you reply.

“Well as your good friend I promise to not sleep with any guys you date” he says smiling.

“What if I date a girl?” you ask.

“I promise I won’t sleep with anyone you date, man or woman. No real friend would do that” he takes a slow sip of his whiskey. “You date woman too?” he asks.

“I have, yes” you take a sip. “As my friend do you have a problem with that?”

“Oh the contrary. As your friend I just want you to be happy.” You shake your head at him and chuckle “you sure you’re okay though being cheated on sucks.”

You stare up into his eyes and see concern and sincerity looking back at you, making you think maybe he has some experience with this. You were going to make some smart ass comment about what girl broke his heart but you feel maybe this isn’t something he wants to joke about.

“We were together just under two years but since we broke up I realized how much of myself I lost. Before him I had a lot of friends, guys and girls; but early on we got in some fights on about him being uncomfortable with me hanging out with my guy friends. He thought I wanted to sleep with some of them and I would cheat which is so ironic now” you take a slow sip of your beer before continuing. “I just didn’t want to cause problems with him, found it easier to just not see them to avoid a fight. I mean I shouldn’t have given up my friends, but I saw some of them at the holidays. I’m thankful all of my old friends, guys and girls, were willing to let me back in. But I haven’t been this happy in a while” you say smiling.

“Well that’s good, if you’re happy then I’m happy for you friend” he says playfully nudging you.

“Okay good friend, tell me some things you know about me” you joke.

He stares at you for a second “if we’re good friends you should know basic stuff like my birthday, where I’m from, favourite colour. I don’t know how we can be friends if all we know is the other person is single” you say smiling.

Matt’s eyes narrow, you can see the wheels turning in his brain as he takes a sip. He sets the empty glass on the bar, taking a deep breath. “Your favourite colour is (Y/F/C); you grew up in Calgary. You like tea instead of coffee, you love the show Friends, made obvious by your Friends mug and t-shirt you have rocked at the arena. You have a major sweet tooth, but not a big fan of salty, and prefer white to red wine.” He continues to ramble on a few more facts about you before you finally cut him off “how do you know all this?”

“You caught my attention on day one, but there is still lots I don’t know.”

You turn your head to him slightly “like what?” you ask him taking a sip.

He steps closer, his thigh pressing to the back of your legs “what it takes to make your toes curl. What it sounds like when you moan.”

You choke on your drink and start coughing as you try and capture your breath. “What?” you croak out.

You feel his hand return onto the small of your back, his pinky slides through your belt loop. You take a gulp as he grins, his mouth inches from your ear. “I have thought about this since the first day I saw you, what you look like under that shirt. What you taste like, what you feel like” he stops as a shiver runs down your spine.

His hand slips slightly further down, resting above your ass. “Tell me you haven’t thought of this and I will walk away right now, act as this never happened.”

You consider his words, and remember the first time you met him. The first time you saw him was in the locker room, he was in jeans and a tight black t-shirt.

“”This is the boys locker room” Sarah says opening the door. You walk in and see the back of a man who is standing at his locker, he has on a simple outfit with a backwards baseball cap. You can see his blond curls sticking out the sides of his hat, he hears people enter and quickly turns around.

“Oh sorry Matt I didn’t think anyone was in yet” Sarah explains as your eyes lock on his.

“Oh no worries I got her early to get my things set up. I don’t think anyone is supposed to be here for another hour” he explains smiling taking a few steps towards you.

“This is (Y/N), she is starting with social media and team engagement. I’m just giving her a tour of the building.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Matt” he says sticking his hand out which you accept smiling back at him. You know who he is, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on him. Being a Flames fan your whole life you knew who the players were, but watching him on the ice the last couple years you developed a middle school crush on him. He skated around the rink with such ease and he seemed like someone who is fun to be around, someone who can make you laugh all the time.

Feeling his hand on yours, the same hands that you watch get in fights, makes you begin to wonder what else they can do. You imagine what his body would look like under his shirt, your juices running down his chin. You get lost in his eyes, and don’t realize you still are holding his hand until Sarah calls you to continue the tour. You shake your head and immediately release his hand, your cheeks going red.

Matt smirks at you, running his thumb on his chin “look forward to working with you” he calls out as you turn to hide your embarrassment.

Matt is still staring at you, a sideways smirk on his face waiting for you to respond. You quickly turn your head away and whisper a soft no.

“Really? The redness on your cheek says otherwise. It tells me I am right, you have thought of this” he says shooting you a devilish grin. His mouth is now inches from your ear “tell me when your home alone, lying in bed. And you slip your fingers, actually you probably have a vibrator or two”

“Or three” you whisper softly. Matt heard you because he groans before he continues “so when you turn on your vibrator and slide it in, what do you think of? What gets you going? When you fucked your ex whose face did you picture when you would cum?” he gives your ass a light squeeze, as you feel his warm breath on your neck. You are practically dripping at his words, but you wait knowing he isn’t done “I’ll be honest, I’ve thought of you over the past few months. We’ve had some great times in my mind.”

“So tell me, have you had to bite your lip from screaming my name?”

“No” you reply lightly knowing that isn’t the answer he is looking for. You feel him tense up but before he moves away, you continue “I didn’t have to, because Mark never made me…he never…” you pause for a minute, flustered and unsure of why you are telling him this.

“He never made you cum?” Matt growls in your ear and you just shake your head in response. You turn your head to look at him “if you let me I’ll make up for the shitty sex and-“ unsure what has come over you, you lean forward attaching your lips to his. His one hand firmly grips your ass while his other slides up to cup your face, your mouth opens allowing him more room.

You turn around in his arms, sliding your hand up to grab his bicep as your tongues dance in each other’s mouths. You feel a body nudge into you slightly and you suddenly become very aware you are making out with someone in the middle of the bar. You pull away gasping for air and whisper against his lips “take me home.”

Matt doesn’t respond instead he throws some bills on the bar quickly and pulls you out the door. You don’t even have time to zip up your coat on before he is opening the cab door and pushing you in. You slide across to the far seat and Matt crawls in sitting beside you. You smirk at him as you lean against the corner of the seat and door.

Matt tells the driver his address as the meter starts “there is a $50 tip if you keep your eyes on the road” he says, eyes dark with lust. Before you can respond he crawls over to you and slides his tongue back in your mouth, his hand slides up and down your stomach. This kiss is fast and passionate similar to the one in the bar, his hand slides under the fabric of the shirt and you pull away.

Your eyes go wide and Matt is smirking down at you. You shoot your eyes to the taxi driver “what if he looks” you whisper to him. Matt just smirks and sits up in the middle seat, pulling you to his lap.

“Can’t see anything now” he whispers before sucking on your neck. His hands are on your ass but are hidden from the driver thanks to your long coat. You rock your hips against him, feeling the outline of his bulge.

“Careful baby” he warns against your neck. You bite your lip as Matt begins nipping on your neck, you rock your hips more, getting closer to ensure Matt can feel it through the jeans.

“Last warning” he hums in your ear sucking on your ear lobe. This doesn’t stop you, in fact it encourages you to keep going. Matt’s hands come around to the front of your jeans and quickly undo the button and zipper. He brings his lips up to yours and starts kissing you, when you feel him shove his hand inside.

He pushes your soaked underwear to the side and thrusts two fingers inside of you. You pull back and take a gasp of air “I warned you babygirl” he chuckles as his fingers begin to move inside of you. You burry your head into the crook of his neck as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you “can’t wait until we get home” he whispers. His thumb begins to press circles on your clit as his other hand massages your breast.

“Can’t wait until I get to hear you scream” he sucks on your neck increasing the pace of his fingers. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching, maybe because it’s been so long since another person has given you one, or it’s the tequila shots. Or it’s the fact that you’re in public with a stranger mere feet from you, something you never imagined yourself doing. Maybe it’s a combination but all you know is your orgasm is seconds away.

“Matt please” you whisper likely a little too loud.

He instead kisses your jaw “you gonna cum” he whispers. Unable to respond you nod and his fingers increase their pace. You grip Matt’s waist and bite his shoulder to try and supress your moans as he pumps you through it. You feel your walls spasm as liquid spills out coating his fingers, when you finish you rest your forehead on his shoulder and take a deep breath.

You feel his hand come out of your jeans as he gives your ass one final squeeze “we’re here.”

You look around and realize you were unaware the taxi had stopped, and you don’t even know how long you have been stopped. You roll off Matt as he pulls a $100 out of his wallet for the $20 fare. You jump out of the taxi, Matt quickly behind you. You stop on the sidewalk and attempt to do up your pants as his hands wrap around you “don’t bother, they’ll be on my floor in 2 minutes.”

Before you can react he pulls you inside to the elevator. You pull your coat in front of you, so nobody would know as you feel your cheeks flush. The doors ding close and Matt walks over standing in front of you. He gently lifts your head up to look at him “you okay?” he gently asks. ”We don’t have to do anything. I have a spare room, I can drive you home in the morning. Whatever you’re comfortable with, if it’s too soon since –“

“No it’s not that, I just can’t believe I did that. I let you finger me in a taxi, I had an orgasm and he was less than a foot away, I just can’t believe-“

“Hey” Matt says lightly kissing your forehead “first of all it was super-hot; like super-hot. I have never done anything like that before but fuck that was incredible. Two he received a very generous tip, and he could have kicked us out at any point. Besides I doubt he heard anything, you bit me pretty hard; I don’t think any sounds came out.”

You smile up at him, feeling more at ease so you lean in and kiss him. “It was a heat of the moment, next time I promise to wait until were in my apartment; assuming you want a next time.”

“At least a room with a lock on the door” you joke kissing him before the elevator dings for his floor.

“Deal” he says taking your hand and leading you down the hall. He unlocks the door and helps you out of your coat. You unzip your boots as Matt looks at you “want a drink or anything?”

You just smile and shake your head, walking towards him closing the gap between you. You jump up into his arms, he catches you with ease as he chuckles. You look into his eyes, fingers running through his curls “I want to see your bed” you say attaching your mouth to his neck.

Matt grans and carries you down the hall, stopping for a minute to turn on the bedroom light then he drops you on the bed. He grabs your ankles and pulls your jeans off your legs. A devilish grin spreads on his face before he crawls onto the bed and opens your legs. He smiles seeing the wetness in your underwear, as he hooks a finger into them pulling them down your legs.

He lies down on the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders and begins to lick some of the juices that remain from the taxi ride. “Fuck” he mumbles licking you clean “better than I imagined.” His mouth begins places kisses on your pussy, causing your legs to squirm slightly. His tongue slides inside your walls and begins to lick the inside of you.

His tongue begins flicking the inside of your pussy, your back arches off the mattress while Matt chuckles below you. He throws an arm over your waist pinning you to the bed. Your hands slide down to his hair, firmly tangling in them as his tongue continues exploring inside you.

His tongue becomes more intense pressing inside of you; he licks circles on your clit, your legs tightening around his head. You try to grind your hips, searching for more friction but he has you pinned down and laughs at your attempts.

“Keep it up and I’ll tie you to the bed” he growls before diving back in. He begins to suck on your clit for a minute before switching it with his thumb. He begins pressing circles on you as his tongue slides back inside.

Your moans become louder as your second high approaches. Your body tenses and you jolt slightly before your pussy spasms, warm liquid spills out as Matt continues to fuck you with his tongue. Matt slows his tongue as you finish, he pulls away looking up at you; your juices covering his mouth and chin.

Matt puts your legs back on the bed, and sits on his heels pulling his shirt off, exposing his hard chiseled chest. You take him in, trying to catch your breath as he pulls his jeans off leaving him in his boxers. You can see his obvious bulge, straining the fabric waiting to be released. Matt leans down engaging you in a kiss, you can taste yourself on him, as your hands wander his bare back.

His hand slides under your shirt and pulls it over your head exposing your breasts. He leans down placing soft kisses on your stomach while his hand slips behind you undoing your clasp leaving you naked.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous” he says attaching his mouth to your breast and swirls his tongue around your nipple. You bring your hands down to the elastic of his boxer, and start to push them down his thighs, Matt helps and throws them on the floor.

You feel him line his cock up with your entrance, his tip grazing your folds. His mouth alternates sucking and nipping your neck and collarbone as he leans over to reach in the bedside table to pull out a condom. He pulls away when you reach up and grab the wrapper, placing it on the table. Matt looks confused as he stares down at you, but you have to have him in your mouth first so you push him on his back and straddle him.

You rock your hips over his hard dick a couple times before sliding down his thighs, your index finger runs down his abs to his treasure line. Finally you look down at Matt and your jaw drops a blush coming over your cheeks. Matt is average or maybe slightly longer than average but he is thick, you can tell he will destroy you, but that’s a problem for later.

You drop your head down and lick up his shaft, placing a kiss on his tip. Matt moans under you as you bring a hand and lift his cock sliding it in your mouth, gagging slightly as you taste his salty precum. You swirl your tongue around the tip as you bob on him, eventually taking him all in.

As he hits the back of your throat you gag again but keep going, bringing your hand up to massage his balls. You feel some spit begin to dribble down your chin, while Matt brings his hands to your hair. You expect him to pull it away from your face but instead he Matt pulls you off of him.

“I promised to make up for the shitty sex you’ve been having. That I wanted to make your toes curl while you screamed my name.” A pout comes across your face and Matt just laughs grabbing the condom and sliding it on, “if you keep doing that I won’t last.” He pulls you down for a kiss, and tries to push you on his back but you stop him “I want to ride you” you whisper pulling away.

“Fuck” Matt mumbles lining himself up with your folds. You quickly drop down, moaning loudly as you feel your walls being stretched by his width. You don’t give yourself time to adjust, you rise up almost completely and drop back down a few times.

“Jesus babe, you could have taken a moment” he moans putting his hands on your hips.

You place your right hand on his abs “I was worried if I waited I would get scared by the size” you joke setting a fast pace.

Matt’s hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks up into you “you’re so tight babe” he groans while you roll your hips on him. You feel your walls stretch around his thick cock, his fingers digging into your hips leaving marks.

Your breasts bounce up and down as you ride Matt as you increase the pace. He slaps your ass “fuck I’m not gonna last” he groans pulling your face down to kiss you. You feel your orgasm approaching and moan into the kiss .

“You close babygirl” he asks against your lips. Instead of responding, you slide your hands to his hair and kiss him. Matt keeps the pace, fucking up into you, pulling you down onto his cock with every thrust.

“Matt” you moan, knowing you are close.

“Cum for me (Y/N). I need you to cum for me” he moans becoming sloppy under you.

He slaps your ass one more time causing you to yelp as your walls tighten around him. You scream his name and a mixture of curse words as you spasm around him.

“Fucking hell” you hear Matt mumble before he spills inside the condom deep inside your cervix. You collapse on top of him and lie there for a minute. He gently runs his hands through your hair while both of your breathing steadies. Finally you pull yourself onto your forearms and look at Matt. He gently runs his finger up your arm as he softly kisses you.

“That was amazing” you mumble against his lips.

“Mhm” he hums rolling you onto your back and slowly pulling out. You whine at the empty feeling while Matt chuckles, leaving for the bathroom. You hear the shower start and Matt comes back to the room pulling you up from the bed so you are sitting on your heels. His hands slide around you to your back, and firmly grip your ass as he pulls you against his sweaty chest. Your hands tangle in his wet curls as you pull him in for a kiss “your sweaty” you joke attempting to push him off.

He pulls you in close, your breasts pressed into his chest. He dips down slightly and picks you up carrying you to the shower. He sets you down and steps into the warm stream, running his hands through his hair. Matt walks up behind you, and kisses your neck.

“So did I make up for all the shitty sex you were having?” he asks.

“I feel like one amazing night doesn’t make up for almost two years of crappy sex” you say laughing. “Probably have to do it one or ten more times.” Matt laughs in your ear kissing your shoulder “sounds good.”

You push your ass back against his semi-hard penis and he moans. Matt mumbles a fuck as you stand up straight letting the water hit you. You feel his hands on your waist as he presses his dick between your as cheeks; his mouth sucks on your earlobe.

“(Y/N)” he moans as you grind your hips back, feeling him harder behind you. “You have any idea what you do to me?” he growls. You turn your head and look at him, water is running down his chest “I have an idea” you moan. You reach behind you, and grip his shaft and begin stroking it up and down “you have any idea what this does to me?”

“I need you Matt” you whisper kissing him.

Matt steps away and opens the door, grabbing condom from the vanity drawer. He quickly rolls it on himself and he steps back behind you, placing a hand on your back. You feel him push inside, stretching your walls, as you brace yourself on the bench.

Matt uses a knee to spread your legs wider, pulling out and pushing back in. You cry out as he hits you deep, ramming into your cervix. His hands move to your hips and use them to pull you back against him. He pulls almost completely out, pulling your hips back and slamming back inside of you.

“Fuck” you cry out.

“God you feel so good” Matt mumbles setting a fast pace.

One hand leaves your hip and slaps your ass, as you jolt forward wincing at the pain. His hand returns to your hip, and continues to thrust in and out of you.

“You’re so fucking tight” he groans. The sound of skin flapping and moans fill the bathroom as he keeps his pace. He spreads your ass cheeks wider, pumping in and out of you. His thumb grazes over the entrance to your hole, while you whimper under him.

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks drawing a grunt from you, unsure if you can have another.

“I know you can. Do it for me” he growls behind you. You bring a hand down to your sensitive bud and start pressing circles on it, as Matt’s hand strokes your ass.

Matt’s pace is fast and erratic; you can tell he is close while he hits you at a deep angle, hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Come on baby” he cries out behind you. You know he is straining to keep going, waiting for you. You press hard circles into your bud; Matt bends his knees changing the angle slightly. Your walls begin to tighten as you clench around him. An intense orgasm rips through as Matt keeps his pace.

“Fuck Matt” you moan, your eyes roll back into your head. You feel Matt’s dick twitch, as he spills inside the condom. Matt stills behind you, you take a deep breath. Matt’s hand caresses your back for a moment as he finally pulls out. You turn around and sit on the bench while Matt steps out to throw away the condom.

He returns to the shower, adjusting the temperature to have more hot water. He grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet; you fall against his chest as he strokes your hair. Your arms wrap around his waist, bracing yourself on him.

You feel him put some shampoo in your hair, lathering it in before gently washing it out. He gently applies body wash to you before rinsing it, you lean against the wall as he completes the process on himself. He turns the water off, kissing you and opening the door to wrap a towel around you. He puts on a pair of boxers, and pulls a t-shirt over your head.

Your eyes are heavy as you stand in his bathroom, leaning against his vanity. Matt chuckles kissing your cheek, he carefully scoops you up and carries you to his bed. He gently lies you down and pulls you into his chest, while pulling the duvet up your chest. You listen to his breathing and slowly begin to doze off.

#matthew tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk smut #Matthew Tkachuk Fic #Matthew Tkachuk X reader #matt tkachuk #Matt Tkachuk Smut #Matt Tkachuk Fic #nhl smut #nhl fic

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shelby-love · 3 years

Text

KELLY SEVERIDE

Skeletons and Whatnot.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author’s note: I feel like this is rubbish, but I also feel like it’s not. 50/50 (1.6K words - might come back to edit it tomorrow)

Also you can see how tired I am (it's 4:30AM) I mean what is this title??? GOOD NIGHT.

"That's not possible. Check again."

"But I already did! Like a million times!"

"Adam, I swear to God-"

"Alright, alright…" Your colleague mumbled, turning on his chair to run the data yet again.

While he sat on the chair, looking through files he didn't have a clue about, you were leaning against the wall and shaking in your boots. Your heart hammered and your palms felt clammy.

Not possible. I killed him.

"No look it says right there," Adam declared; proud of himself for being able to gather information like this on his own. "Some girl named Lucy Riggs pawned a gun she got off some guy named Jon Prescott.

You squinted your eyes at the information that made no sense. "Get to the point."

Adam visibly swallowed, "Turns out the guy's name isn't Jon. Shocker. It's actually Parker Torres."

Your blood ran cold at his words. A million thoughts raced through your head. You wondered where he was, what he was doing… The questions that evaded your mind are usually normal, but here, when you thought about the dark man of your past, the questions seemed to be anything but normal.

"What about the gun?"

Adam clicked away until a picture of a metallic gun popped out. "Smith & Wesson Model 64 revolver."

Next thing you knew, a chain of vulgar profanities escaped your mouth, and you couldn't stop them. Ruzek's eyes widened ever so slightly at your lack of composure. "Mind telling me what this all about?"

You took a deep breath. "My skeleton escaped the closet."

***

The lack of information you found within the last couple of days was mind blowing. The only lead you had was the gun that wasn't even in your possession, having gotten lost in a misfit of undocumented sales.

Lucy wasn't of help either. The poor girl just wanted to get rid of her husband's gun, saying everything but useful information along the way. "If he wants a gun, then he better get a good one… A new one too! I don't want that piece of garbage in my house. God only knows who used that gun!" Lucy told you, just 48 hours ago. Those exact same words.

She was right about one thing.

That dammed gun went through so many hands and took double more lives.

And you didn't even have a lead.

"You look like crap," Kevin Atwater teased, handing you a steaming cup of coffee.

You didn't even manage to smile, looking at him through your shades that were, so far, doing a great job at concealing the bags under your eyes from the world.

"Rough night?"

"Mhmm."

Kevin didn't know that you no longer lived with Kelly. The temporary solution to your problems turned out to be moving back to your own place. Putting Kelly in harm's way, no matter how much he thought otherwise, was something you didn't want to do. The comfort of his bed and body were replaced by a thin blanked and an uncomfortable dining chair.

Dozens of glass decorations were laid out all over your apartment. On every window still, next to every door… On every surface, really. You slept on the dining chair 5 yards from your front door with a pistol strapped to your back, a shotgun under the chair and a rifle wrapped around your two arms, acting as a teddy bear for every time you dozed off.

Friends from Interpol would call here and there, with nothing more than sad news.

Hank Voight was pulling out every contact from his little notebook, but not even they could solve your years long case.

You wanted to throw up.

"Hey Kev."

"What's up?"

"You still friends with that FBI agent?"

***

"Second floor clear," The grip on your radio loosened after the second you needed to inform your team about your situation had passed and you moved on upstairs. You could hear them respond in the same matter as you held your gun with both hands and carefully climbed up the stairs.

You didn't let a sound slip your lips as you trekked the stairs up to the very last floor, save for the attic. For a drug house, everything was eerily quiet. It didn't feel like someone left in a hasty hurry.

It felt like as though there was no one there in the first place.

Your need to report that to your Sergeant faded away quickly once you saw smoke. It seized your full attention within a few seconds.

Smoke grenade was your first guess. Nasty things but nothing new.

That was, until you took several steps closer and the smell of the source journeyed through your nostrils. It clicked in your head immediately. Three years of being a squad lieutenant's girlfriend can do that to you. The scent of fire is nauseating and sweet, putrid and steaky, or something like leather being tanned over a flame. The smell of it can be so thick and rich that it's almost a taste. Kelly's words rung in your head, and you pulled your radio to your mouth.

"Call CFD! There's a fire on the third floor!" You informed, shielding your eyes. "Stand down! I repeat –"

Things went black after those words.

***

"We have a detective trapped on the third floor," Voight informed the first responders. "That's where the fire started."

Wallace nodded, "Squad 3, take the third floor."

Unlike Wallace, who had found his source of information in Voight, Kelly Severide had found it in Jay, who stood on the street visibly stressed. "Jay where's Y/N?"

Jay frowned, "She went to scope ahead. She was on the third floor when the whole place just blew up…"

"She could be unconscious right now," Kelly muttered. "Squad 3 let's go!"

Kelly Severide was already in the burning building when Chief Boden found out just who was trapped upstairs. "Dammit."

***

"Y/N?!"

Kelly's patience was thinning by the second. Knowing that his time is limited and that the place could blow in a stronger matter at any moment, he paced toward your unconscious body expeditiously.

Noticing the angry streak of blood that came from your nose had his heart in his throat. You were twisted in a way not normal for a human body to be in, catching him off guard the moment he laid his eyes on you.

Despite all that, Kelly still swooped in to grasp your limp body in his arms.

The stress of the last few days he went through didn't come close to a match with this very moment. "I'm coming down chief!"

For a moment Wallace wanted to bark back, but he bit his tongue. Love makes people do crazy things.

He knew that better than anyone.

"Get the hoses ready!" Boden announced and turned to the Intelligence.

"She'll be okay."

***

You were okay.

Maybe even better than you thought possible.

"Kelly wake up."

You smiled cheekily at doctor Mannig, who stood by your hospital bed, waiting for Kelly to wake up with the same thin line of patience as you.

You woke him up with a slap to his shoulder.

Natalie was beaming, her eyes sparkled despite the fact that she was the doctor to the most heavily guarded patient in the whole city of Chicago. "I think congratulations are in order."

"What do you mean?"

She winked before handing you the tablet, "You're 11 weeks along Y/N. Congratulations you two."

You shook your head wildly and pressed a palm to your mouth, acting out what your defense mechanism wanted you to do. "Oh God…"

"Really?" Kelly asked next to you. He had already grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly, holding you to the ground of your new reality. "Are you for real?"

She nodded, "The tests don't lie. I'm so happy for you two."

Natalie hugged you both closely before disappearing back into the crowded ER.

"Hey," Kelly murmured, grasping your chin with his index finger and thumb. "What's wrong? You're not happy? I thought…"

You shook your head immediately, stopping him from saying something that was untrue. "No, Kelly… I'm really happy."

Two heartbeats within one body. Your body.

A child that was going to take after you and the man you loved most in this world…

You felt so incredibly lucky at that moment.

Yet so guilty.

"Our baby could've died today…"

Fresh onset of tears attacked your eyes, pushing through until the moisture was dripping down your face, and you tried to muffle the hiccups with your hands. Everything started to make sense.

"Baby you didn't know…" He tried to calm you.

You shook your head violently, dropping his attempts into the water. "I should've known better. We didn't use protection... Then I felt so sick last week."

"Y/N-"

"But I was so obsessed with Parker Torres that-" You couldn't even finish the sentence because the guilt turned into anger. "God I'm so stupid!"

"Babe, look at me," Kelly's voice hardened yet the hands with which he cupped your face were gentle and comforting. "You didn't know, so none of this is your fault. If you knowingly went in there that's when it would have been your fault."

He kissed your tears away and gave you the softest smile ever. "Do you want to have this baby with me? Because if you don't, we can…"

You stopped him with a kiss.

You were venerable in the moment of the kiss, yet you never felt more at home. In this kiss is the promise of years of love and the sweetness of life. No one mattered at that moment. Not Parker… Not anyone. Only you two and the vow you just shared.

The next few weeks will be hard, that much you knew. You were introduced to a new reality and priorities shifted. The hunt for your skeleton will continue in the hands of the people you trust most and as months go by the light will greet the darkness of your tunnel.

But the next few years, you see nothing but light and happiness.

No skeletons to torture your life, but a baby and a soulmate to make it better.

TAGS (all posts): @fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102 @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @lorenakaspersen @scarletsoldierrr @theravenclawmarauder @httphiddlestan @tclaerh @chefdoeuvre

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MASTERLIST

#Kelly Severide #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide masterlist #Chicago Fire #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfictio #Chicago PD #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd x reader

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

Text

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 12. Shots Fired

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I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

Everything had started so perfect.

You slept in the tent next to the infirmary in Daryl’s arms through the night and in the morning you helped the crew make breakfast. Rick had rode home to Alexandria and there was news on the walkie that food was coming from the hilltop. You grabbed food for yourself and Aaron and headed back to the infirmary.

Aaron was sitting up and talking with Daryl.

“Morning” You announced as you strode into the tent.

“Morning” Daryl said with a smile.

“I’m not looking,” Aaron joked, covering his eyes with his hand.

“Very funny,” You shoved the plate against Aaron and he took it, setting it down on his lap. “So what’s got you bothering my patient, Mr Dixon.”

“Wanted to see how he was doing before I head out for the day” Daryl spoke.

“You get breakfast yet?” You asked

“I don’t need-” Before he could finish you thrust your plate into his hands.

“Eat up. You’ll need it” You said turning back and leaving the tent to get yourself a new plate.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em” Aaron said through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah” Daryl said, getting into his food.

“How’d you meet?” Aaron pressed. Daryl glanced at him in question. “C’mon everyone’s heard how she appeared from thin air and you jumped to her defence.”

“Ya make it sound like a fairy tale” Daryl commented.

“It is.” Aaron replied. Aaron took a bite of some bread and kept staring at Daryl “C’mon you can tell me.”

Daryl thought back on it for a moment. ‘I tried to kill her’ he thought. Now he couldn’t think of hurting you. “Before the winter, me, Tara, and Rick went into DC. I got hurt. We had to camp for the night in this bank.” Daryl spoke through his food. “She walked in, started pulling the place apart. We said stop. She seen I was hurt and offered to help me.” He lost interest in his food for a moment, thinking back to that little apartment in DC that you had fixed up and made a home for yourself. “She was starving. I couldn’t sit by and do nothing, not after she helped me. At first I just brought her the surplus but she insisted on giving me stuff in return. ‘Not gonna leave you short’ she said.” Daryl stopped when he realised how long he had been talking about you, and the soft look Aaron had listening to him. Daryl went back to his food “Can’t let good people suffer”

“She is good.” Aaron spoke, “You should have brought her home sooner.”

“I tried. She wouldn’t come.” Daryl put down his now empty plate. “She don’t like camps or nothin’”

“So she was somewhere bad before” Aaron mused

“She deserves something good.” Daryl spoke “We all do.”

A sudden unrest erupted outside the tent. Daryl got onto his feet and went to investigate, finding the camp filled with angry saviours

“Guess they're gonna execute every last one of us!” a man yelled out “Just like Justin!”

“Not if we have guns, too.” a women called out

“Hey, hey, you guys!” Laura was in the middle of the crowd trying to calm people. “No no no no! No!”

“Come on guys!” Arat yelled trying to make herself heard.

“Hey knock it off!” You yelled from the front of the group trying to calm them down.

All the calls fell on deaf ears and you found yourself trying to push saviours and members of the other community away from each other. Aldin quickly made a dent in the condensing crowd.

“Hey! Hey! Stop this shit! Stop it! Stop it!” He yelled, the two sides coming apart around him “We're gonna find out who did this, and we're gonna make sure it never happens to us again, all right?”

“Us?” Jed stood out from the crowd of saviours. “You're not one of us anymore.”

“‘Us’ means all of us” Aldin spoke, turning his back on the saviours to speak to the rest. Jed immediately grabbed Aldin, spinned him around and punched”

“Go shovel that horse shit to whoever killed Justin!” He pulled back his fist to go for another hit when Carol stepped in front of him, hand on his chest to stop him and the other on her gun ready to pull it out. You felt yourself hold your breath. “I thought you were supposed to be our leader.” he remarked.

“Enough” Carol spoke firm. “Turn around, all of you.”

“No can do, Cee.” He replied, “Why don't you go ahead and yank that roscoe, pop me right here? It's better than worrying about getting it in the back.”

At that Carol pulled out her gun, as did the others standing behind her. You stepped forward and put yourself between the man and Carol.

“There’s no need for that.” You said, hands up defensively.

“We don't want this.” Laura spoke, rallying to your side. “Hey, we just need to protect ourselves.”

“No guns!” Dary yelled. Everyone turned to look at him standing on top of a hill looking over everything that was happening.

“That 'cause you're the one took out Justin?” DJ yelled out. He was a saviour with long hair and a beard.

“Nah.” Another saviour said lower, eyeing up a woman near the front of the opposing crowd. “My money's on garbage lady.”

“Revenge for Simon's play, sure.” Regina said, stirring more trouble.

“No.” DJ replied, not taking his eyes off Daryl. “It's him. Finishing what he started.” He stepped past you and towards a tree, picking up the axe that sat there. Another man followed after him. A woman went to walk past you to them but you put your hand against her chest, whispering “Don’t” in the most intimidating voice you could muster, making her fall back into line.

Arat ran up and step in front of DJ “Hey, stop. It's gonna go too far.”

“Nah.” Daryl spoke “It won't.” He raised his crossbow and pointed it at DJ. You felt your breath catch in your lungs. You had seen how dangerous Daryl was with that bow and weren’t interested in being at it’s business end.

“Maybe it's both of them. Come on.” The long haired man rallied the saviours around him. You tried to hold them back but you were quickly pushed to the back of the group and landed on the ground. The saviours moved forward with only the priest meeting them halfway, ready for the fight. In the last moment Rick came riding in on horseback and the crowd divided.

“Everyone back off! Right now!” He yelled from atop the animal, waving his revolver over the crowd. Arat moved to disarm one of the saviours and Laura took to the martyr.

“All right, we are not doing this.” She spoke firm to Jed then brought her attention to the wider crowd. “Let it go.”

“I'll talk to Rick.” You heard Aldin speak “I'll try and find a way to make everybody feel safe, all right?” The crowd slowly dispersed.

“Start the redirect.” Rick ordered. “Pair off to work the grid.”

In the moments past you pulled yourself off the ground and started dusting yourself off. Laura came to you and pat your back.

“Thanks for trying to hold them back.” She said, Arat arriving behind her shortly after.

“Didn’t help much.” You replied

“No, it helped.” Arat insisted. “These hot heads need to see more of us working with the others.” Arat let out a sigh, then leaned in close to you “If they knew who you were-” she spoke low.

“No.” You interrupted. “They won’t trust me. Someone needs to be on good terms.”

“They got Aldin for that,” Laura commented. “He’s been playing goodie two shoes since the war.”

“Enough gossip,” Arat said. “Boss says the grid needs work. Later.” She patted your back as she took off.

“What’s on your plate?” Laura asked you.

“Get Aaron on the first trip back to Alexandria. He’s just filling a bed here. You?”

Laura looked around at the grumbling saviours, waving to a small group. “Keeping the peace.” You nodded in acknowledgement and you two parted silently.

After setting Aaron up with a small group that would be journeying back and his bed had been cleared you set out looking for Daryl. He had gotten riled up and you wanted to see how he was. A hilltop man pointed you in the direction he’d taken off in.

When you found him he was talking to Rick. Or rather Rick was talking to him.

“Daryl, I know you don't agree with everything we're doing here. All I ask is that you try. Do it. Let people see it. And maybe everyone moves past what's happened to what could happen and maybe, just maybe, it'd be one of the best decisions you ever made.”

“Like not killing a guy who left your brother on a rooftop to die.” Rick walked past you with a nod. He looked so tired yet determined. You walked up to Daryl, who seemed to be caught a little off guard.

“How much of that did you hear?” He asked nervously.

“About the tail end of what seemed like a speech, if I’m honest.” You stood in front of him, gently placing your hands to his face to make him look at you. “How are you?”

“I didn’t do it,” he uttered, resting a hand atop of yours.

“I know you didn’t.” You reassured him. His arms came around you so naturally and your hands rested on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry you were in the middle of all that.” he continued, low enough that only you heard. “This crap ain’t your problem.”

“It is now.” you said. “‘Sides, your not the first boyfriend to hold a weapon on me.” You chuckled. He paled drastically.

“I am so sor-” you cut him off with a kiss. He held you as close as he could as he kissed you back. You pulled back and smiled at him sweetly.

“We’ll have plenty of time for sorry later. You have grid work to do”

“Wish I didn’t” he said pulling you into him, making you giggle at the implications.

“Go,” you laughed, punctuating it with a kiss and coming away. “I’ll be here”

Daryl left with the group to check the grid and you returned to camp. Being the doctor everyone wanted you nearby at all times. You mainly cleaned up the areas, helped with food, tended to the occasional cut or burn. You found it all delightfully mundane. It was nearing sunset when Enid showed her face.

“You’re late for work.” You said mockingly.

“Sorry” Enid apologised with a yawning, appearing from the tent next to the infirmary. It was promoted from ‘Saddiq’s Tent’ to ‘Doctor’s Tent’ as you and Enid started working in shifts. “I’m not used to the night shifts yet.”

That made you smirk “Hopefully you never have too” You teased with a laugh. She looked away embarrassed. You patted the spot next to you on the boards the infirmary was built on. “Sit down. We’re not exactly burdened with work.”

“What’re ya doing?” Enid sat down next to you, her leg tucked under her.

“People watching.” You explained. “Me and my old man used to do it all the time.”

Enid looked out at the campsite, “Seems kinda dull,”

“You’re doing it wrong then.” You said then pointed to Regina, a female saviour helping unload a recent delivery. “What do you think her deal is?”

“She’s a saviour” Enid spoke plainly. “Who’s unloading tomatoes”

“Nah, nah.” You leaned back on your elbows “You’re not meant to think about the truth. You’re meant to come up with a story of some kind.”

“A story?” Enid questioned. “Sounds childish”

“That’s what makes it fun.” You reply. You pointed at a table of people playing cards. “What about them. What’s their deal?”

“They’re playing cards.” Enid spoke plainly. So it was up to you to make things interesting.

“Ya see the girl with short hair and the tank top?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Madam De Tank.” You spoke in a theatrical voice, “She owns most of the land and she’s put it on the table against the guy in the chequer.”

“What’s his name?” Enid pressed

“You tell me.” You shot back

She thought for a moment “Joey...Banks”

“Okay.” you said tongue in cheek. “What’s he put on the table?” Enid sat in silence a moment, then turned to you with a childish smile.

“His first born child!” She announced, equally theatrical. You both chuckled at the absurdity. Laura appeared, dirty from work.

“What’s all the fun?” She asked, taking a seat next to Enid.

“People watching.” Enid replied. “The third guy?”

“That’s Joey Banks’ assistant. He does all the things Joey doesn’t want to do. Like open doors or hold his cup.” You jested

“I hate to break this up but we need to talk.” Laura said to you. Enid went to excuse herself but you sat up and beckoned her to stay.

“Anything you gotta say to me, you can say to Enid.” You said. ‘Because you approached me in front of here and we need to keep a low profile’ you thought.

Laura looked from you to Enid and backed to you, a little unsure. “It’s the saviours,” she ultimately said. “We can’t find Arat.”

You sat forward and turned your body to face Laura, tucking your leg in, “What do you mean? She’s out checking the grids”

“The grid team came back.-”

“Where are they?” You interrupted. Afterall, Daryl and Arat were with the grid team.

“They left again, all quiet like.” Laura explained.

“They’re probably doing the night watch.” Enid interjected. You backed her up, saying it would be logical.

“That’s what I was saying but,” Laura explained then went quiet for a moment. “They think something might have happened. There’s talk of abandoning camp.”

“You can’t do that!” Enid panicked.

“They’re scared, Enid.” You said, her attention flicking back to you. “We have no guns and saviours have been going missing for a month now. At least at sanctuary there’s walls and they know each other.” You looked to Laura seriously “But that’s all we have. There’s no food. No real security and most of the building has been abandoned. It’s a prison.” The last sentence rolled off your tongue before you realised it, but it was no less the truth. “We need this bridge”

“I know,” Laura sighed. “I’m tryna talk to them but…”

The tension hung tight in the air among the three of you. “Sunset’s beautiful” Enid finally broke the silence. You looked over the trees seeing the warm hues sink behind them.

As the last few rays dimmed you stood up. “Guess we just gotta hope.” You said, sounding helpless. You turned to Enid in that moment. “Enid, umm...maybe”

“Not a word,” Enid stood up as the dinner bell rang. “I know.”

“Let’s eat!” Laura announced as she stood up. “I heard we got fresh tomatoes tonight.”

Later that evening Carol and Rick brought back a stabbed man who you stitched up. When questioned how it happened the man gave no reply. You stitched him up in silence then Rick took him out. You stopped Carol before she could leave, pressing for what had happened.

Carol turned back to you. It was just the two of you in the tent and you’d already developed a history together. She sighed through her nose before speaking. “We got jumped. They wanted our guns and were ready to kill us to get them,”

“Maybe if you gave them a couple-” you began

“That’s not happening now.” Carol replied. She turned to leave again and you grabbed her by the arm to stop her.

“Why were you out there?” you questioned. You released her arm once she stopped. “You’re not on night watch and checking the grid doesn’t take all day.”

“Why do you care?” Carol questioned, seeming already tired of the conversation. This did little but anger you.

“Cause these are our people!” You bit back “Remember?”

Carol nodded solemnly. “You know?”

“There’s suspicion.” You explained. “I just wanna know whether or not it’s founded.”

“Arat is missing” Carol finally said. You stepped back, struggling to process this information. You turned away and leaned on a nearby table, your head reeling. “She and Beatrice got jumped and we’re looking for her.”

This was it. The saviours were going to abandon camp. A few weeks ago you wouldn’t have cared but between working in the sanctuary and working out here you’re heart broke. If they left then the deal would be broken and everyone would suffer. But something didn’t sit right though

“Who’s Beatrice?” You asked.

“She’s from Oceanside.” Carol replied.

“And she was fine? When you found her” You asked.

“Yes. Why?” Carol asked, stepping closer to you.

“It’s weird.” You admit, facing Carol. “All the other saviours went missing all together. The first one who isn’t a saviour is left perfectly fine?”

“A lot happened before you showed up, Y/N.” Carol explained. Sounded like pure excuses to you. Through out the entire conversation she had been staring at you with feigned worry, making your blood boil.

“Get out.” You snapped. “I need you out.” Your voice trembled, showing your upset.

That night you could hardly sleep, your mind was reeling. ‘How did dad deal with this bullshit’ you thought to yourself. You quickly stopped that train of thought when you remembered ‘murder’ was the answer.

That morning you were woken by one of the saviours. “C’mon Doc, we’re leaving!” She shook you. You groggily got out of your bed and went to investigate. Outside was the saviours, with half the camp packed up. You locked eyes with Laura across the camp who just shook her head with defeat.

Jed walked up to you and handed you an empty rucksack. “Grab your shit we’re leaving” he said.

“No,” You replied, pushing the bag back. “I’m not.”

Jed looked at you incredulously, then threw the bag to the ground with temper. “You’re gonna stand by these fucking murderers!”

‘Look who’s talking’ you thought to yourself. “We need this deal, Jed!” You yelled back. “We need the food that the other settlements can provide!” Your yelling caught the attention of a couple of saviours. “I ain’t going back to The Sanctuary until that bridge is done!”

Jed pulled a face then spat at your feet. “Suit yourself.” He retorted then left. In about twenty minutes they had all packed up and were marching out.

~Tag List~

@felicismor @bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

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stellar-lune · 3 years

Text

*KOTLC incorrect quotes*

Anyways, a long list of incorrect KOTLC quotes, feel free to use these for anything if ya want!

Glimmer: Arson? Oh, you mean "crime brûlée".

Fitz: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”.

Fitz: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

Keefe, holding up his class notes: And then this doodle of a burrito because when I first read Aristotle, I thought it was pronounced like “Chipotle”.

Marella, in shock: Wait a minute, is it “Chip-o-tottle”?

Sophie: I wasn't hurt that badly. Elwin said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent.

Marella: I choose to waive that right!

Marella: *screaming*

Brant (whoops sorry bout this one): Do not come over to my house. If the house is on fire you may knock once, if I don’t answer assume I set the fire and I want to burn to death.

Sophie: I would never say that my best friend is a bitch and I don’t like her. That’s not true… Biana is a bitch and I like her very much!

Lex, Bex, Rex: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

Keefe on Tuesday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.

Keefe on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!

Forkman, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

Keefe, tearing up the room: Where are they?

Keefe, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children?

Keefe: Somebody moved my E.L. Fudges, and now I am going to run away again.

Tam: Your existence is confusing.

Keefe: How so?

Tam: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to you upsets me.

Sophie: I have one foot in the grave but in a kind of fun flirty way, the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking.

Linh: I've never encountered a problem that can't be solved by an spontaneous musical number.

Dex: Dracula had it right, sleep all day, live alone in a castle, and explode into bats to get out of all social situations.

Sophie: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Sophie, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

Dex, to Stina: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

Sophie: My life isn't as glamourous as my wanted poster makes it look.

Dex: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one, Wonderboy.

Marella: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.

Fitz: I'm a firm believer in "if you're going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly."

*out grocery shopping*

Linh: *takes a free sample twice*

Linh: Robbery and fraud. I am a Rebel (TM) .

Sophie: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices.

Sophie: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Sophie: Does anyone know how to relax? Asking for a friend.

Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and-

Tam: No returns.

Demon: *sobbing* But it's making me sad...

Dex: So, according to my university, it is, quote, “my responsibility if there is an internet outage to contact the faculty and the department.”

Dex: Now, if you’re a critical thinker like me, you might be wondering one thing.

Dex: HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO EMAIL THE DEPARTMENT?!?!?!

Tam: Hey, what’s the name of the other guy who lives with Tiergan?

Linh: His cats' names are Walter and Rose.

Tam: That's not what I asked.

Linh: That is all the information I have.

Keefe: Ro, remember when you said you weren’t going to interfere with my love life?

Ro: No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

(alternatively, Alden)

Linh: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!?

Tam, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

Marella: I'd roast you, but my mom says you can't burn trash.

Marella: *slow-mo walks out of the room*

Biana: I'm gonna get my piolet's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses.

Fitz: The big five licenses?

Biana: Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.

Dex: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year.

Fitz: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Biana, do you think I have anger issues?

Biana: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

Keefe: So how’s the food Sophie made?

Fitz: It's great! Compliments to her.

Keefe: *goes to the kitchen*

Keefe: You're adorable.

Sophie: *blushes*

Biana: And now for a gay update with Linh and Marella.

Marella: Getting gayer.

Biana: Thank you, Marella.

Sophie: Hey, do you know the password to Keefe’s computer?

Biana: I love you, Sophie.

Sophie: Aww, that’s so swe—

Biana: No, you misunderstood, the password is "iloveyouSophie".

Sophie: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Fitz: Hey, Biana, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?

Biana: Yeah.

Fitz: And you, Tam?

Tam: Umm... yes?

Fitz: Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!

Biana: Did he just-

Sophie: Do you cook?

Biana: I made a cake once.

Fitz: Yeah, it was good.

Biana: Really?

Fitz: Don’t make me lie twice, Biana.

Dex: Nice rock.

Keefe: Thanks, Tam gave it to me.

Tam: I threw it at you!

Keefe: Isn’t he the sweetest?

Juline: I just had a long talk with the triplets about hitting and now they are yelling “it’s my turn to perpetuate the cycle of violence” before hitting each other.

Sophie: I made you all playlists!

Sophie: Tam, yours has only heavy metal and punk, and is dark like your soul.

Sophie: Keefe, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression.

Sophie: And Biana has the ABBA Gold album.

Fitz: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.

Biana: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.

Dex: A realist sees a freight train.

Tam: The train driver sees three idiots standing on train tracks.

Mr. Forkle: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Biana, Keefe, & Sophie: Okay.

Mr. Forkle: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Biana: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Keefe: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Sophie: Bold of you to assume I can die.

Sophie: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Keefe: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Dex: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Marella: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

Biana: What’s it like being tall?

Marella: Is it nice?

Sophie: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Fitz: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Stina: You have friends and I envy that.

Marella: You're welcome to share my friends.

Stina: *looks at Dex and Sophie*

Stina: I don't want those.

Della: Tommorrow's garbage day.

Fitz: I can't believe you made a whole day dedicated to Alvar.

Linh: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.

Tam: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

Linh: Th-that's not how that works-

Marella: Do you want to know your gay name?

Linh: My... my gay name?

Marella: Yeah, it's your first name-

Linh: Haha. Very funny Marella-

Marella: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Linh: Oh- oh my god.

Glimmer: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

The Black Swan: Those are wanted posters!

Biana: Are you mad?

Tam: No.

Biana: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Keefe: Astrology is fun because i can pretend that all of my behaviors are just a result of being a Gemini and not symptoms of mental illness.

Biana: Being a Gemini is a mental illness. That’s not hate it’s just a fact.

Biana: *on the phone* Hey Fitz, do you know my blood type?

Fitz: Of course, it's A+.

Biana: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Fitz, to Sophie: Are you ready to commit?

Sophie: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Literally Anyone: Hey, aren’t you Sophie Foster?

Sophie: You a Councillor?

Literally Anyone: No.

Sophie: Then yes, I am.

Sophie: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway.

Stina:

Sophie: Vroom vroom, come out already.

Stina: I’m gay—

Sophie: Not what I meant, but cool.

Keefe: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset?

Sophie: No, I said "Keefe, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

Mr. Forkle: I’m not so sure you’re stakeout material.

Sophie: I’m a chronic insomniac, I was born for this.

Juline: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Marella: *gets set on fire and screams in agony*

Marella: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Biana: Maybe the true treasure was friendship all along. But I hope not, because I can’t spend friendship on new clothes

Dex: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

Fitz: Sure!

Fitz: Whats your favorite color?

Dex, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

#kotlc shitpost #kotlc incorrect quotes #kotlc memes #kotlc sophie #kotlc dex #kotlc fitz #kotlc marella #kotlc linh #kotlc biana #kotlc tam #kotlc glimmer #kotlc black swan #kotlc neverseen

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impalas-r-important · 3 years

Text

Love of my Life - (3) Movie Night

Summary: Y/N and Nick find a way to fill their free time, followed by a movie night.

Warnings: N/A

Series Masterlist

It had been a few weeks since Nick had come to stay at Bobby’s house and the three of you had grown fond of him. You had spent a fair amount of time with Nick, helping him with what he needed, but also just hanging out. You hadn’t been waking up depressed for the first time since you had come back to life. Sam and Bobby went on a quick salt and burn case a few hours outside of town, leaving you and Nick with the house to yourselves. You were sitting on the front porch in a rickety old rocking chair enjoying the sun that had peaked through the clouds on a surprisingly warm February afternoon.

“There you are.” Nick opened the front door and peaked his head out. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” You motioned to the chair next to yours.

He sat down with a sigh. “Wow, it feels great out here.” He remarked. “I’m going a bit stir crazy inside that house.”

“I feel you there. Cases have been few and far between lately. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a little break now and then, but I feel like I should be shooting something.”

“Yeah…” Nick nodded, and a smile grew on his face. “Wait here. I’ve got an idea.” He hobbled inside as quick as he could which entertained you. A few seconds later, he came out with a full garbage bag.

“What in the world are you doing?” You asked as he carefully made his way down the steps and towards a rusted, beat up car that had clearly been used for target practice a few times. He set the bag down on the ground and pulled out empty soda and beer cans, lining them up on the hood and the roof of the car. Nick had tucked a 9mm gun into the back of his belt, which he pulled out and handed to you.

“Ladies first.” He flashed a bright white smile at you, and you took the gun from his hand. You walked over to the porch railing and lined up the cans, quickly picking them off one by one until the clip was empty. You ejected the clip, spun the gun around in your hand (a trick you had learned from Dean) and returned it to Nick.

“Oh, damn.” Nick whistled. “I like a girl that can handle a gun.” He looked you up and down.

“Oh, I can handle much more than that.” You winked at him and reloaded the clip. Nick set up more cans and took his turn. He hit every one of them, just like you.

“Alright,” you nodded, “new guy can hit a can from 20 feet away. Let’s up the ante.”

“What do you have in mind?” He mischievously smiled at you.

“Give me ten minutes.”

You went inside and grabbed your sniper rifle. You were so excited to buy this thing, but you’d only ever had the opportunity to use it once. This was the perfect excuse for some practice. You slung it over your back, grabbed a few rounds and headed back outside.

“Now we’re talking!” Nick’s face lit up when he saw the gun you were carrying. You set it down on the porch and picked up the bag of cans, walking to the other end of Bobby’s salvage yard and climbing a ladder to reach the top of an old shed. You set up 5 cans for each of you and returned to the porch.

“Best of 5, loser makes dinner and cleans up the cans.” You explained the rules to Nick as you loaded 2 clips with 5 rounds in each magazine. “Ladies first.” You mocked as you held the rifle out to him.

He slowly took a few steps towards you, giving you a playful look with his tongue pressed to his top teeth. He towered over you for a few seconds, keeping eye contact as he took the gun from your hands and gave you a competitive yet flirty look which you returned. He set up on the small table on the porch and took his aim.

His first shot was a miss. “Relax, relax. Don’t get too excited just yet.” He waved his hand at you. “That was like a pancake, first one is always a tester.”

You put your hands up in the air. “I didn’t say anything.”

He readjusted and cracked his knuckles, looking into the scope. The next 4 were hits. Nick pulled away from the gun and began to eject the clip. “4 out of 5 ain’t too shabby. I’m thinking I’m in the mood for a steak dinner.” He teased.

“Alright, fine. I’ll admit it, you’re good.” You picked up the magazine with your rounds sitting on the table and added one more bullet to it as you brushed passed him and whispered playfully, “but I’m better.” Nick raised his eyebrows at you and watched as you knelt down, calibrating the scope to your needs and fired of 5 rapid shots, hitting each of your cans, before using your added bullet to knock down the can that he had missed. You flipped your hair behind your shoulders and looked over to see his reaction. He was looking you up and down and quickly looked away and blushed when he noticed you had caught him staring.

“You know what, steak dinner does sound good.” You winked, sauntered over to him and handed him the bag to pick up the cans from the yard. “Come on, I’ll help. I’m not going to make the gimp clean them all up.” You walked down the step and bent over to pick up cans. Nick joined you.

“Let me ask you something, Y/N.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I had obviously heard of the Winchester brothers, but I had heard a fair amount about you as well.”

“Oh? Like what?” You were caught off guard that the hunting community knew who you were.

“Stuff like how you look like the girl-next-door, but you could take down 5 demons by yourself.”

You chuckled. “That was one time, and I probably got lucky.”

“I mean, clearly, you’re a dead shot. I just witnessed that with my own eyes. Everyone also talked about how you were absolutely beautiful,” he paused and looked at you with a small smile, “which I can testify to be more than true.” This made your heart skip a beat and you tried to fight the blush you could feel creeping onto your cheeks. “But they all said you were off-limits because you were Dean’s girl, and Dean would kill anyone who even looked at you the wrong way. Maybe it’s none of my business, but what happened between you two? From everything I heard, you were inseparable, but here I am flirting with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and there’s no Dean around to stop me.”

You weren’t completely sure that you wanted to talk about this, but you trusted Nick. What happened between you and Dean was over and talking about it was just part of the process of moving on. You took a deep breath and threw a can into the black garbage bag. “I ended up dying in the big showdown with Lucifer. Maybe I was being a reckless idiot, but he was beating the crap out of Dean and I couldn't just stand there and let Dean die."

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know that…” Nick gave you a sympathetic look.

“Sam and I were brought back pretty soon after that. We were confused and went to go find Dean, figuring he had made some sort of dumbass deal to bring us back. I was completely unprepared to see him already living with another woman. He had moved on, which he had every right to. I mean, I didn’t think that I would be back from the dead, and I’m sure he didn’t either, but I was devastated that he had moved on so quickly. I guess he didn’t love me as much as I loved him. Sam and I kept Dean in the dark for a year about us being back because he had a new family and seemed happy. Who were we to take that away from him? But it was a rough year for me. He is, or I thought he was, the love of my life. He was everything to me, and it turns out I was just another girl to him. That was a hard pill to swallow.” You looked around for more cans to pick up but didn’t find any and switched your focus to kicking rocks instead. “He found out that we were back because we had to intervene after some Djinn were trying to kill him and Lisa and Ben. Dean convinced us to make Bobby’s house our home base and stay here in between hunts. He and I have barely talked about our relationship, but it’s been pretty clear the whole time that he’s done with me. Dean and I would always talk about getting out of the hunting life and building a farmhouse in some small town in the middle of nowhere. Maybe even starting a family. But he found that with someone else and I wouldn’t want to break up his newfound happiness.”

“Damn.” Nick joined you in kicking rocks with his non-booted foot as the two of you walked back to the house. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener.” You nodded and he could tell that you were done talking about this. “Now let’s go buy some steak. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty much a grill master.” He gave you a warm smile and placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked up the steps. “Hey, Y/N, did you really punch the Devil in the face?”

“Yep. I didn’t know what else to do when I was standing face to face with Lucifer. That smooth move got me killed.” You shrugged.

Sam and Bobby got home that night while Nick was out back grilling up some steaks.

“Something smells damn good.” Bobby remarked as he entered the house.

Sam inhaled and exhaled. “Smells like steak to me.” A smile came across his face as you walked in the back door holding a plate of sirloins.

“Welcome back boys! That was a quick case.” You gave them each a quick side hug.

“Yeah, fairly simple.” Sam licked his lips. “But enough about the case, let’s talk about those steaks. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Nick lost a little competition we had earlier. He owes me a steak dinner, but if you ask nicely, I might share with you.”

“Me too?” Dean asked as he walked into the house.

“Look what the cat dragged in. I thought you had forgotten about us.” You greeted him. “You gotta earn your keep though, sorry.” You teased him.

“What do you mean?” Dean playfully frowned.

“I won our shooting competition earlier, Nick is on grill duty, and Sam and Bobby just got back from a hunt. What did you do to deserve steak?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

He held up a plastic bag with DVDs inside. “I brought the movies.” He looked at you, waiting for approval.

“Hmm… Did you bring chocolate to go with those movies?” You interrogated.

“Come on, Y/N/N, I know you too well.” Dean reached in the bag and pulled out 3 of your favorite chocolate bars before dropping them back in.

You gave him a childish smile and ran over to him. “Yay!” You grabbed the bag from him and handed him the steak plate. “I’ll get the movie going.” You explained as you walked into the living room.

Dean smiled at you and watched you walk away, his eyes and smile lingering a little too long. Sam noticed and cleared his throat to break his brother’s stare. Dean snapped out of it quickly and looked to the ground before walking into the kitchen with the steaks. Nick had finished cleaning off the grill and followed suit.

“Hey, the whole gang’s here.” Nick smiled and greeted everyone.

“How you feelin’ kid?” Bobby asked as he put a heaping pile of mashed potatoes on his plate.

“A lot better. The ankle still gives me trouble, but it’ll heal sooner or later.” Nick dished up a plate of his own and grabbed an extra plate as well.

“Two plates, huh?” Dean noticed and asked. “You must be hungry.”

“One’s for Y/N. I lost a bet from earlier today, so I suppose I get to be her waiter.” He joked.

“Well don’t worry about, I’ve already got one started for her.” Dean held up the plate next to him that he had already put a steak on.

“Oh, okay. Thanks, man. I can finish it up if you want?”

“It’s fine, I know how she likes everything.” Dean’s response was short with hints of possessiveness and anger behind it. Bobby could tell and whacked the back of Dean’s head as soon as Nick had left the room.

“Don’t be stupid, Dean. The kid’s got a crush on Y/N, give him a break. He’s a good one.” Bobby warned.

You were sitting in the middle of the couch and Nick sat down on one side of you as you skipped through the commercials before the movie. He leaned in and whispered, “I don’t think Dean likes me very much.”

You giggled and answered, “Dean’s like that with everyone he meets at first. Don’t take it personally.” Dean walked in the room with your food and handed it to you as he sat down on the other side of you.

“Extra mashed potatoes and gravy on everything, just how you like it.” Dean sat his plate down on the coffee table.

“Great,” you thought to yourself, “sitting in between Dean and Nick for a whole movie isn’t going to be weird at all.”

Sam was sitting in the armchair next to the couch and you sent a “help me” look to him, and he just responded with a shrug. You exhaled as quietly as you could and picked up the remote from the table and pressed play.

“Alright, Caddy Shack! I love this movie!” Nick said with a mouthful of food.

Dean loved this movie too, and you could tell he wanted to say something about the movie to Nick but was holding back out of pride. It was going to be a long night.

As soon as the movie was over, Nick stood up and cleared the plates. “I’m beat. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He shot an extra smile and a quick wink your way. Dean noticed and had to keep himself from balling his fist.

“I’m calling it too, night guys.” Sam gave a wave and headed towards the stairs, leaving you and Dean on the couch together.

“So, any fun plans for your birthday coming up?” You pulled one leg up on the couch and placed your elbow on the back frame, resting your head in your hand and facing Dean.

“Oh, no I don’t think so.” He stretched his legs out on the table and slid one hand behind his head and the other laying on the back of the couch, resting on your arm.

“What? You love your birthday!”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you definitely do! You play it off like you don’t, but we all know it’s your favorite holiday.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He gave you a side smile that made your heart jump a bit. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t flirting with you, just being nice. It was rare that you and Dean were ever alone together anymore, but it felt natural.

“A few years ago, you literally made me celebrate ‘birthday week’ with you. Remember?”

“I woke you up at sunrise and we drove cross country to see the Grand Canyon.” Dean smiled, clearly getting lost in his reminiscing. “Then we couldn’t find even the crappiest motel room to stay in, so we slept in the Impala and it was freezing. That was my favorite birthday.”

“Well, I’m still planning on making your birthday pie. If you want me to, that is.”

“Hell yes I do! I’m thinking classic apple. Yours is still the best I’ve ever had. I dream about swimming in that pie sometimes.”

“You got it, birthday boy.”

“Do you remember the first time you made me pie for my birthday?”

“Of course I do. It was horrible. I practiced a lot between then and the next year and you have to admit, I’m pretty damn good now.”

“I just remember the look on your face when I walked into the kitchen and you were covered in flour. I wish I had a picture of that moment.” Dean threw his head back in laughter.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! I didn’t think you’d be awake at 3 in the morning. It was going to be a birthday breakfast pie.”

“How could I sleep with you making all that noise in the kitchen? Plus, I turned over in bed to cuddle with you and you were gone. Obviously, I went to go find you.” Dean paused. “I never really could sleep well without you beside me. Still don’t.” He looked at you with longing emerald eyes, but you quickly broke the eye contact and stood up.

“Yeah… Well, I should get to bed. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N.” Dean knew he had over-stepped.

Dean found himself wanting to grab you by the hand and pull you into a big hug or follow you upstairs and tell you that he was still in love with you, but Sam’s words rang true in his head. He had made his bed, and now he had to sleep in it. He chose Lisa, but he didn’t want to go home to her. He wanted you back. He wanted the hunting life back. He wanted to live here with you and Sam, but he felt like he was slowly being replaced with Nick. Sam got along with him, Bobby clearly liked him, and he flirted with you every chance he got. Dean wanted nothing more than to yell at Nick to leave and never come back or to give him a swift punch in the face for looking at you with adoration in his eyes, but Dean knew that he couldn’t do that. He walked across the room and grabbed a pillow and blanket from the basket in the corner and laid down on the couch, hoping to fall asleep quickly.

You made your way upstairs, trying to hold back tears until you made it into your room. It was one thing to remember fun times you two had together, but how could Dean so casually throw in that he doesn’t sleep well without you? If felt like a punch to the gut and you wanted to be mad, but then he would look at you with those stupid handsome eyes and you would melt into a spineless puddle. Half of you wanted to scream and yell at Dean, and the other half wanted to grab him by the hand and take him upstairs with you. The truth was, you didn’t sleep great without him either, but you were afraid of the can of worms that might open if you told him that. The second you shut your door, you leaned against it and slowly slid down to the floor as the tears began to fall from your eyes.

Chapter 4

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural #castiel

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carinavet · 2 years

Text

I need to rant for a bit about what it’s like keeping up with a huge freaking yard, both the good and the bad.

We’ll start with the bad: It never freaking ends. I’m SO frustrated right now because IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE WINTER but my yard is acting like it’s spring. My winter bush is in bloom, but so are the spring wildflowers. It makes no sense. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to be done with yard work for a few months.

When winter first started settling in, I watched for when the grass stopped growing and said, “Great! I’ll do one last cut, trim up all the edges, and be done!” Thing is, it takes me three days to weedeat along my fenceline because there’s just SO MUCH OF IT (and also my weedeater is a piece of shit and the battery dies on me). And that’s just the fenceline. I don’t do upkeep on the (also freakishly long) driveway or the area out back that’s paved with cement tiles because it’s just too annoying. I also don’t pull all the weeds that pop up between the cracks because it’s just TOO ANNOYING. (I’m about to literally go out there and salt the earth so that I never have to do it again.) So getting rid of all the overgrown edges and all the weeds at the end of the year is A Project. Especially since I ALSO have several gravel areas that aren’t supposed to let things grow but the weeds come through anyway.

It took WEEKS to get through all of that crap. And I wasn’t even picking up after myself: I just made piles and piles of grass clippings and weeds along the edges of my driveway, because I wasn’t about to pick up a mess I wasn’t finished making. And then after I finally thought I had finished, I realized I had totally forgotten one of the gravel areas.

And in the meantime, this false spring has made weeds start sprouting in areas I’d already cleared.

In addition to all that bullshit, I’ve got a landscaping project I’ve been working on a bit at a time: I’m extending the paved area so that I can build a fire pit. It took AGES to pull up the sod because my lawn is ridiculously thick and doing just one small row at a time kicked my ass. (I am aware that sod cutters exist, but I’m too broke to rent one.) And then I was left with what turned out to be 9 trash bags’ worth of sod. I was trying to get that done in time for my annual Christmas tree burning on January 6, but then my whole family got the plague and everything was interrupted. So I still need to go out there and level the ground, get rid of all the extra dirt, pave that spot, and get stones for the pit itself. And also put salt everywhere because fuck crack weeds.

Meantime, I’ve finished weeding that one gravel circle in the front of my house, and firmly decided that at some point I’m going to get rid of it entirely. The roots there were so stubborn it took 3 days. And now I’ve finally started picking up all the piles of grass clippings and the like. I’m about halfway through that and I’ve got like 7 more trash bags full, waiting for garbage day.

I’d also gone around and trimmed all my bushes and trees but not picked up the branches. so that all needs to be cleaned up, too.

And stuff keeps growing, so I’ll still have to go back over my whole yard one more time with both the lawnmower and the stupid goddamn weedeater. Which I’m waiting to do, both because all this crap is in my way and because I am only doing it ONCE, goddammit. And also because a lot of the wildflowers are in bloom, so I want to give the bugs time to take advantage of that. Tiny bit of good news, though: I got a leaf blower for Christmas so the driveway cleanup after will be easier.

But for the stuff that makes it worth it: I’ve planted 3 trees. I ordered about half of the dozen trees I want, but the rest won’t be shipped to me until spring. All the stuff I planted in spring (that survived >.>) is visibly bigger than it was when I planted it. Today, after I decided that I was done bagging crap for now, I sat in the shadow of my house next to a bush I’d planted, staring at how beautiful its leaves are, as well as the wildflowers that had popped up around it.

When I first moved into this house 2 years ago, the yard had a few good plants in it, but overall was so much more bare than I cared for. I’m working on slowly changing that. I’ve put a few vines along the fence, a few potted plants on the porch and hanging outside my shed, a bush out back in the corner, and now a few trees in the ground. It’s still very much a work in progress. I’ve barely even started on what I want to do. The sitting area out back is still empty and ugly. The only shade is waaaaaaaaay in the back where I’ve got the beginnings of a fruit orchard.

But it is in progress. It’s getting there. It’s growing.

And it’s mine.

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silverhandsass · 3 years

Text

Countin’ On You

Having been roaming the streets of Night City all her life, V gets herself into a bit of gang trouble and finds herself at odds with a particular officer.

—Canon Divergent meeting between V and River—

Note:

This started off as an experimental piece for how Street Kid V could have possibly met alternatively 👀 With promise of eventual romance and smut 👀

Ao3

— — — — —

And that was the last of them.

Day after day, these gonks were getting easier and easier to knock out. These guys were especially tough, they had bruised the crap out of her arms and ribs before she finally finished them off. Holding one of their bats in her hand, she rested it over one shoulder and walked over to an older woman that was hunched over by the garbage bins.

"It's over now, lady, come on," she assured, motioning for her to stand.

The woman was cowering, but the moment she looked at V, she must have seen the distinct difference in her attire than the gangoons around them. V wore a long sleeved crop sweater, her tattooed midriff exposed generously. She also wore jeans that had probably been patched up and fixed more times than it she could count, along with sneakers of similar condition. She had no gang logos, no affiliated tattoos or markings of any kind, and her face was most definitely not hollowed out and replaced.

Before V could urge the lady some more, the woman looked past her just in time for a voice to call out.

"NCPD! Stop right where you are!" A man ordered. "Let me see those hands!"

Fuck!

V raised her free hand and shoved the bat off her shoulder, holding it out passively. The woman in front of her held her hands up as well—oh, what a precious little thing, V thought. She was much older, wore a formal, grey outfit, walking around in heels and a pencil skirt. She looked like some office clerk in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

"Don't hurt her, she helped—" the woman tried to object.

"Ma'am, please step away from the area immediately," the officer urged.

The woman looked to V, who faced her palms toward her. She motioned with her head, nudging it to the side as she whispered, "Get the hell out of here!"

"She saved me," the woman called again and V sighed heavily, blinking hard.

"Lady, that's noble, but get the fuck out," V told her, seemingly concerned.

"Ma'am, get away from this woman and step to the side. Now," the officer insisted.

The woman did not move, looking between him and V, over and over. V stepped closer to her, hearing the click of a gun behind her.

"Don't move!" The badge yelled.

"Just hold your fucking horses!" V replied, slowly bending down to drop the bat. She then kept her hands up as she stepped forward once more. "Look, I'll be fine. You go, okay? If he gets to shootin', you don't wanna be here. Go."

The woman hesitated, but eventually gave her a nod, muttering to her that she will not forget this, and finally leaving the immediate area. V could hear the footsteps getting closer and closer, the voice calling out to her once more.

"Turn around—slowly," he ordered.

"Great, just what I needed," V carefully turned to face him. "Another goody two-shoes badge failing to identify the good guy." The moment she could see him, she was studying his every feature; the cybernetic eye, the furs of his coat, the singular hanging earring—the lot of it. For an officer, he sure dressed casually.

"You tellin' me you're the good guy? The hell were you doin' in the middle of a gangoon pit?"

"Dunno, maybe I got bored," V shrugged.

"Attitude like that won't get you very far," He frowned, his gun still perfectly trained on her.

"And here I thought I was perfectly well behaved," V said sarcastically. Then, from the edge of her vision, she spotted a bit of movement far behind him. Her eyes darted to it, seeing a flash of a dark figure hiding behind a large bin.

"You ain't foolin' me," the cop told her, commenting on her change in focus. "Eyes over here."

The figure peeked out, giving V a clear look on what was going on. It was a Maelstrom gangoon that had managed to avoid being noticed, aiming a rifle at them both. "Oh, fuck!" V yelled, grabbing the officer as she leapt to the side. Multiple shots were fired, the sounds deafening her and leaving her in a daze momentarily as the pair landed behind cover.

There was a roaring pain in her arm as she pushed herself up to a seated position. The officer had fired his gun, she recalled, cursing under her breath while holding onto the wound tightly. "Now do you believe me?!"

The officer shuffled over, kneeling beside her. "You saved me," he said.

"And you fucking shot me!" She scolded.

"Fuck. Cover me, I'm going round back to get an angle on him," the officer told her.

"Cover you how, exactly?!" V hissed.

The officer looked at her incredulously. "You went into this fight unarmed?"

"They had bats, and I wasn't thinking!"

"Clearly!" He yelled. He peeked out to get a look, immediately being met with a barrage of bullets. The officer ducked behind cover and cursed. "There's more of them now."

"Look, just... Get the fuck out of here. You're not the one who started this mess."

"You tellin' me to leave you here?" he asked, barely looking at her.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm tellin' you. Don't suppose you got an extra piece you can lend me?" V asked, clutching her arm tightly.

"No, but I got a better idea," the officer replied, shuffling around the corner on the other side and disappearing from sight.

"Wait—fuck!" V hissed, clenching her teeth. "No chivalry for the fucking wicked. Fuck," she whispered to herself, looking off to the side. She did tell him to leave, and cursed at herself for doing so. Soon there were footsteps approaching her position.

"Come out, come out you little fucker!" A gangoon called from nearby.

V looked around her, spotting a body a few meters ahead of her. She crawled forward, reaching for a metal bat the man had dropped. She grabbed it and immediately shuffled back into cover, holding it close. V shut her eyes for a brief moment and breathed heavily through her nose, her jaw tight from having to force herself to ignore the pain in her arm. She pushed herself up to a crouched position, holding the bat high and readying herself for the gangoon.

The moment he turned the corner and aimed the gun at her, she was certain she would not survive. Gunshots sounded off to her right, distracting the man immediately. She did not care what was going on, she simply kicked off from the ground and swung her bat at him. She hit him square in the arm, readying it for another before the gangoon slammed his gun right into her face.

V cursed, stumbling backward and tasting iron. As the gangoon aimed his gun at her again, she swung at it and then kicked his chest. That pushed him away from her while also causing her to lose balance and fall back. A hulking figure soon approached them just as a couple of loud gunshots rang into the air. The gangoon fell limp, choking on his own blood as it pooled in his throat and chest.

Turning to her right, V saw the officer walking up to her. "You okay?!"

"Fucking hell, man! You coulda told me you were plannin' on charging at 'em!"

"I told you I was going 'round," he replied.

"And here I thought you left." V wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, seeing a smear of bright red across her skin. "Oh, motherfucker."

"Come on, let's get out of here before more show up," the officer suggested, then glanced at her wound. "Keep pressure on that."

"Ain't my first rodeo, chief."

—

Taking the rag from him, she pressed it against her nose and tilted her head back. "Ah, fuck."

Her arm still stung from the pain, but a quick whiff of a common painkiller helped ease the burn a little. She glanced down at her arm that was now bandaged, knowing she was going to have to go over the ink once it had healed over. She sighed and kept her head back, now wondering how much that was going to cost her.

"So," he stepped in beside her, leaning against the half wall. He looked over the edge behind them, seeing the water and letting out a low whistle at the height. "You make a habit of picking fights you'll probably lose?"

"Didn't lose that one, did I?" She countered.

"Fair point, but you had no reason to be there," his brows furrowed, showing his confusion—he seemed as though he was trying to understand her.

"The lady called for help, I heard her. There's my reason," she shrugged, pulling the rag away but feeling a slight trickle of blood still falling across her lips. Cursing, she turned the rag over to a dry patch and brought it up to her nose again.

"So that's it, you were just... picking a fight with Maelstrom gangoons because you wanted to help?" the officer asked her.

"Is that so hard to believe?" she turned her head to him. "Wouldn't you have done the same?"

"Guess I just don't see enough folks like you to believe it," he replied.

"No, you don't," she agreed, sighing deeply through her mouth.

The officer observed her a moment, looking her up and down, not caring that she was staring back and that she could see him. He was sizing her up, she figured. Maybe studying her, trying to see what he could see.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

After a few seconds of some staring from her, she finally answered. "V."

He scoffed, turning to look away from her. "Fine, don't tell me."

V couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't tell anyone, princess." He turned to look at her again with a raised brow and a hint of annoyance. She sighed, dropping the attitude. "Everyone calls me V." Realizing that the blood flow had come to a tentative halt, she kept the rag away from her face, folding it up.

"River. River Ward." The officer reached out his hand, "Here, I'll toss it for you."

One look at his hand had V scoffing, "Ha! Fuck no," she turned to the side and tossed the rag over the edge and right into the water. She turned him with an incredulous look and smirked, "Ain't givin' you anything to work with."

River studied her a moment, then the corner of his lips flicked up as he spoke. "Definitely no stranger to the streets, then. My money's on Pacifica."

V feigned an insulted look, gesturing into the air to the absurdity of that statement. "Really think I'm that wild, Officer?" She then smirked. "Close. Heywood."

"Ah," he snapped his finger. "Woulda been my second guess."

"I'm sure," she chuckled, hopping off the wall and stepping around him.

"Don't suppose you'd let me make it up to you with a coffee?" River asked her, his gaze following her.

"For shooting me in the arm, you mean?" She raised her brow, chuckling at his sheepish expression. "Maybe put a pin in that, I got some stuff I gotta tend to, but... you know what?" she pointed at River in a casual manner. "You're not bad, Ward. Maybe in a different life, on different sides o' things, we mighta actually been friends," she told him as she began walking backward. V then turned around, making a relaxed beeline for her bike.

"You know, it's never too late," River insisted.

"Maybe not," she called back, blindly waving a goodbye to him before she mounted her bike. A short moment later, she could see the notification of something being sent to her. Contact information—River Ward.

"In case you change your mind," River called out. "Or you need something else."

With a lopsided grin and a lazy wave, V rode off.

#Cyberpunk 2077 #River Ward #River #V #Female V #V / River Ward #Action #Blood #Mild Violence #Eventual Smut #Eventual Romance #Eventual Fluff #just. it's gonna get real nice #My Fics #Countin' On You

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eveningcatcher · 3 years

Text

Main six + courtiers in Hell's Kitchen AU with MC as Gordon Ramsey

Hi, sorry for being absent for so long. Besides the school starting, there have been some things going on in my private life that didn't really motivate me to write. I can't post new chapters every week like usual, but I'll try to post as frequently as I can. Sorry for not doing any of the requests. I had this chapter as a wip for a while, so I decided to finish it. Hope you enjoy it!

-------

Previously on Hell’s Kitchen:

Chef MC tasted the contestants’ signature dishes and, needless to say, they were not pleased.

“How can you serve me this garbage!?!” MC shouted, “I wouldn’t feed a stray dog with this crap!”

Both teams had problems in the kitchen

“You moron, what are you doing?” Nadia asked, frowning like a madman, “Where is the chicken?”

And one team had a little throwback because of one of the cooks

“Volta, what in the world are you doing?” MC shouted, not believing their eyes, “That food is for the customers!”

But now all of that is set aside as the new day and new opportunities arise. Will the chefs be able to rise to the top and win the luxurious restaurant in Vesuvia, or will they crumble at the pressure?

“I want to go back home,” Portia sobbed as she hugged her knees, “I miss my grandma.”

“Wake up sleepyhea-” one of the MC’s sous-chefs, Scout, stopped midsentence as she stared at Valerius’ bed.

He woke up as he rubbed his eyes, feeling like his head is a lot lighter. As soon as he put his head on the sheets he felt something strange. He lowered his head, only to be greeted by the sight of his braid cut off, right next to him.

“My deep apologies for the inconvenience,” Valdemar said as they put a pair of scissors down, walking out of the room to change, “I just can’t have some of your hair in the food we prepare, so I had to make some sacrifice,” they grinned from ear to ear as they stared at Valerius’ pale face, “Oh, don’t you worry, It’ll grow back before you know it.”

****

“Good morning everyone!” MC said as they watched all of the chefs come into the room, “Oh, Valerius, nice hairstyle!” they chuckled as they stared at him who still hasn’t recovered from the trauma, “Who did your hairstyle? I must say I’m quite impressed.”

“Valdemar, they, I, I was sleeping and, and, that plebian-” he was interrupted midsentence by Valdemar.

“No need to thank me, for my dearest colleague it’s free of charge,” they smiled, enjoying Valerius’ reaction.

“Anyway,” MC said, as they walked up to one table, “Today I will be seeing how good your pallets are and,” their gaze flew over Valerius, Vulgora, Nadia, Lucio and Portia, “Judging by how many smokers are here, my expectations are low,” they turned their head to Julian, “Sit this round out.”

Julian nodded as he walked to the back.

“Valerius, Nadia, come here,” they took blindfolders and headphones, putting them on the two of them, “Can you hear me?” MC shouted at the two of them, “Good, now,” they took a plate of foods from Scout, “Let’s begin, shall we?” they raised one spoon, putting it into Nadia’s mouth, “Boiled potato.”

“Is this pepper?” Nadia asked after she swallowed the potato.

MC raised one of Nadia’s headphones, saying: “Boiled potato.”

They walked over to Valerius, who wasn’t lucky enough to guess either. Surprisingly enough, Nadia, as well as Valerius, both guessed all of the exotic foods right, with Nadia bringing 2 and Valerius bringing one point to their team.

Next, it was Vlastomil’s and Asra’s turn. Vlastomil guessed all of the vegetables and fruits, while Asra only recognized a date as well as ham, however, Vlastomil got a heart attack as soon as he realized he ate meat.

“But I’m vegan!” he shouted.

“Still, you’re not cooking for vegans!” MC explained, “You just have to know what you’re cooking, I don’t give a fuck what you eat.”

Overall Asra got 2 and Vlastomil got 3 points.

Now it was Valdemar’s and Lucio’s turn. MC hesitantly put the food in Valdemar’s mouth, trying their best to avoid those sharp teeth.

“Brocolli. Pear. Tangerine. Lamb’s brain,” Valdemar simply stated after they’ve tasted all of the food.

“Wow,” MC said, “Impressive.”

Lucio, on the other hand, wasn’t as good.

“Um, broccoli, this, this is an… apple. Oh, I know what this is, it’s orange! This, this tastes like bacon!”

“Not even close,” MC said as they took off his headphones, “Go back in your line. Portia, Vulgora, come here.”

Portia, just like Valdemar, guessed all of the food right, Vulgora half as much.

“Now it all comes down to this,” MC said as they put on headphones.

Volta guessed 2 right, but Muriel guessed all of them!

“The six of you have just barely won!” MC said, “Change your clothes, I’m taking all six of you somewhere special. As for the five of you,” MC gestured at the brooms, “I want this place crystal clear!”

“Yes, chef!”

While the winners prepared themselves to finally go outside, the losing team went straight on to cleaning the hell’s kitchen.

“Wonder where we’ll go?” Portia said as she walked with Nadia outside.

“Honestly, any place is better than here,” she commented as she lit her cigarette, offering Portia one.

She happily took it and, once Nadia lit it for her, continued, “He told us to put on swimsuits, maybe a beach?”

“I sure hope it is!” Lucio said as he walked up to the two of them, to which Nadia only rolled her eyes.

“I can’t believe I was put in the same team as my ex-husband!” Nadia frowned at the camera, clearly pissed.

****

“Is everyone ready?” MC asked as they watched the other three walk out of the hell’s kitchen.

“Yes, chef!” the six of them said in unison.

“Very well then, let’s get going,” MC said as they gestured to a luxurious limousine.

****

“Finally!” Lucio puffed his chest as he stared at the camera, “A car worthy of me!”

****

“Can you guess where we’re going?” MC asked the six of them.

“To the beach?” Portia and Nadia guessed.

“No, but you’re close,” MC said as they stared at others.

“A pool?” Muriel asked.

“Nadia and Portia were closer.”

“To the yacht?” Julian asked.

MC smiled and, with a small nod said: “You’ve guessed it!

****

“Oh my gosh, this will be just like my childhood!” Portia happily exclaimed, “The wind blowing through my hair, the smell of saltwater in the air…” she rambled on and on, “Ohh, I can’t wait!”

****

“Can you imagine what the five of them are doing right now?” Mc asked as they sipped on champagne.

“Oh, I definitely wouldn’t want to be in their shoes,” Julian added as he finished his glass.

“Alright, now that that’s out of the way,” Valdemar said as they put the brooms in their place, “We need to make a strategy on how to win.”

“We would have won, had someone not guessed only 2 foods right,” Valerius said, eyeing Volta not so discreetly.

“Who are you to talk?” Vulgora said, getting annoyed, “You only guessed one right! You did the worst out of all of us!” it seemed that it was enough to shut Valerius up, but Vulgora continued, “And you! How did you not recognize ham of all things?”

“Because I’m vegan!” Vlastomil shouted, clearly offended.

“This can’t do,” Valdemar said with a frown, “Let’s get one thing straight,” they started talking right after the four of them shut up, “We don’t like each other,” to that all of them nodded, “But the only way we can stay in this competition is to make sure that those six are the ones who always lose.”

“Makes sense,” Vulgora said.

“So you propose that we get rid of 6 of them first?” Valerius asked.

“Exactly, then we can deal with each other later,” Valdemar nodded and, after a short pause, added, “Oh, also, I have no wish to win this competition.”

“WHAT?” the other four asked, not believing what they heard.

“You see, I have absolutely no knowledge about cooking, at all, as a matter of fact, I’m a surgeon.”

“Why did you get here then?” Vlastomil asked, confused.

“Because I made a bet with my colleague, that ginger guy in the opposite team. If I were to get further in this competition than him, he’d have to buy me three rare specimens for my research, but if he were to win I’d have to get him 30 jars filled with leeches,” they finished their sentence, rolling their eyes.

“So, what you’re saying is that you wouldn’t mind if we were to vote you off as soon as that idiot is out?”

“I’d be more than grateful,” Valdemar said with a grin.

“Seems good enough!” Volta said as she nibbled on one of the cookies. “Wait,” she asked as she ate the whole cookie in one bite, “Why were you accepted in the Hell’s kitchen?”

“Same reason why ex-husband and wife were put in the same team,” they simply shrugged, “For the drama.”

“Oh, how much I wish they were to lose,” Valerius said in front of the camera, still thinking about his braid.

“We’re opening hell’s kitchen!” MC said as everybody got to their places in the kitchen, “Don’t disappoint me again! Also, we’re one waiter short and since you are the losing team,” MC took a glance at five of them, “Valerius, you’ll be a replacement.”

Valerius only nodded as he left the kitchen.

“Vlastomil, you’ll be at the meat section,” Valdemar simply stated as they sharpened some of the knives.

“But I-” he wanted to protest, but Vulgora interrupted them.

“Stop complaining and go!”

“Alright, let’s begin,” Asra said as they read the first order, “Let’s just put the same effort as yesterday.”

“This will be a breeze,” Asra grinned at the camera, “The opposite team is two cooks short! There is just no way we can lose,” as soon as Asra said that a smile disappeared on their face, “Unless…”

“OH FUCK!” Lucio shouted, not taking their eyes off the burning pan, “Um… I may have made an oopsie…”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?” Nadia shouted, mortified, “Someone, stop the fire!” she demanded.

Everyone gasped in shock, with Asra walking as far away from the fire as they could while Portia pulled Julian towards her before his clothes could have caught on fire as well. Muriel irked his head, trembling at the sight of fire slowly spreading to the other cookware. The fear didn’t stop him though, as he quickly found the fire extinguisher, stopping the fire.

“Oh, thank you,” Nadia said, hugging Muriel tightly, “You’ve saved us!”

“Why do I smell fire?” MC asked as they walked over to the kitchen, “Nadia, explain!”

“Lucio started a fire.”

“Oh my God,” MC said as they buried their head in both of their hands, “Did anyone get hurt?” they asked calmly, not bothering to move.

Nadia quickly took a glance at Lucio and Muriel. She knew very well that Lucio would complain like a little child had he gotten a single bruise. Muriel didn’t seem hurt either, in fact, he turned away, going back to his station as if nothing happened.

“No, sir, everyone is fine,” Nadia stated.

“Nadia, go back to the station, as for you Lucio,” MC raised their head, staring at Lucio as if they were about to murder him on the spot, “I want the oven spotless and you as far away from it as POSSIBLE!!!”

“Yes, yes, sir,” Lucio visibly shook as he got to work.

“Come on, this is our chance!” Vulgora shouted as they cut some meat, handing it over to Vlastomil, “DON’T,” they said before Vlastomil could even start complaining.

“Is the shrimp pasta done?” Scout asked.

“We’re on it!” Volta said as Valdemar gave her a prepared sauce. She carefully poured it over the pasta, fighting the urge not to stuff her face with the food like yesterday. As soon as they were done, she carefully carried it over to Scout, who nodded in approval.

Soon enough Valerius walked over, picking up the plate, taking a glance at both kitchens. Sure, his team was very slow, with only a couple of dishes out, but the other team was somehow far worse. He smirked as he walked over to the table.

“Your order,” he said as he put the plate down, “I hope you enjoy it,” he said with a smile plastered on his face as he walked over to the other table.

“Good evening,” he said as he eyed the customers, “How can I help you?”

“Oh, hi there~” a woman greeted him happily as she played with the blue fabric of the dress, “So, I’d like…” she stared at the menu for a moment, then pointed out at one dish, “This. As for the drink…” she thought for a moment, “I’d like some champagne!”

“Champagne along with that food?” Valerius asked, disappointed, as well as one of the men sitting with the girl.

“Seriously Star,” an older man shrugged, “Everyone knows that red wine would go much better with it.”

“Oh, then I’ll take the red wine,” she said, a bit embarrassed that she had to be corrected by her colleague.

“Agreed,” Valerius said as he wrote down her order, “What would you like, sir?”

“I’d like some pasta, no meat,” he added, “I’m a vegetarian.”

Valerius wrote the order down and, just before he could hand the order over to the opposite team, one of the customers called for him. He turned around, hiding his annoyance, “Is something the matter, sir?” he asked.

“Look at this crap!” the woman gestured at her plate, “It looks disgusting!”

Although he’d gladly agree with the woman, just because that would put the opposite team in a terrible position, Valerius knew there was nothing wrong with the dish. “My apologies, but I don’t seem to understand. What are you complaining about?”

“It’s too hot for me to eat it! And look at the colours!”

Valerius took another glance at the plate and after a moment continued talking with less patience, “What do you want me to do? To blow your food? Just wait for it to cool down like all of the civilized people for God’s sake. Stop wasting my time,” he said as he went back into the kitchen, handing Scout all of the orders.

“Hey, I’m not done!” she shouted as she walked over to chef MC, “Sir, you need to put your waiters in their place!” she shouted at MC, “I have never been disrespected like this in my entire life!”

“What a coincidence, I can say the same,” Valerius commented, unbothered, as he took the plates, walking away from her, adding, “Apologies for not cooling your food down.”

“See?” she pointed at Valerius, “I demand-”

“Miss, I’m working here,” MC said with a deep frown on their face, “Nobody has the time to listen to your stupid complaints,” they added as they wrote something down on the paper, “Please return when you have a reasonable complaint, if not, go to the psychiatrist and solve your issues. Don’t lash out your anger on my staff.”

“How bold of you to complain about my anger!” she wanted to continue, but as soon as she saw MC’s cold face, stopped, going back to her seat.

“Look at that idiot,” Vulgora laughed as they chopped some meat, taking a glance at Volta who was devouring the returned food, “Hey, what are you doing?!? Get back to your station!!!”

“Oh come on,” MC frowned as they watched Volta go back, “Speed it up, speed it up! Stop wasting time on the leftovers!”

Volta nodded, her mouth still full of food.

“My grandma would cook faster than all of you!” they shouted, taking a glance at how the other kitchen was doing, and oh boy, they had what to see.

The other kitchen was a mess. Portia accidentally spilt the boiling water on poor Lucio’s arm and it seemed that Asra and Muriel enjoyed the sight while Nadia and Julian pretended to not hear Lucio’s screams.

“Are you alright?” Portia asked, worried, “I’m so sorry!” she said as she grabbed his hand, only to find out that Lucio was pretending.

“Got ya!” he shouted like a little kid as he showed her his metal arm, “As for you,” he turned to the other three, but before he could make any remark, he noticed MC looking at them, their face turning redder and redder every moment.

“What in the world is going on?!?” they shouted, losing all of their patience. Within a moment the restaurant was closed and all of the chefs shivered in front of MC.

“You were terrible, disgusting!” they shouted and paused, trying to calm themselves down, “You,” they turned to Volta, “I believe we’ve talked about not eating food during the job.”

“Yes, but Volta couldn’t help herself,” she quickly explained, “Volta is sorry-” she would have continued, but MC raised their hand, signalling for her to stop.

“Your team was so terribly slow-”

“But we were two cooks short! Of course, we’d be slow!” Vulgora protested.

“I know that,” MC stated calmly, “You were also most complimented, especially the meat dishes. Who was in the meat section anyway?” they asked as all of them pointed at Vlastomil. At the sight of him, MC couldn’t help but forget all of the rage they felt. After a good minute of laughter, they continued, “Seriously, you made the dishes?” they wiped off the tears in their eyes, “Good job. Keep it up,” they said as they left Vlastomil to dwell in his existential crisis.

“I…” Vlastomil said, not bothering to stare at the camera, “I’ve been a vegetarian my whole life! I’ve never had any meat in my house…” he paused for a moment, still trying to process MC’s compliment, “So why did people enjoy my food?”

“As for you,” they turned to the other team, “Yesterday you were, you were amazing, how did it all change in one night? I believe it’s obvious who is the losing team. Muriel, you were the best of the worst, choose two candidates for the elimination,” with that, MC left the two teams on their own.

“Bye bye Lucio!” Vulgora grinned.

“What do you mean?! I’m not getting eliminated.”

After that sentence, everyone stared at him, thinking the same thing – could Lucio really be this dumb?

“What if, what if I get eliminated,” Portia started to get worried, “I mean, I could’ve seriously harmed someone,” she continued with her blabbering, “Oh, what will I do?” she started crying.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” Julian reassured her, “Everything will be fine.”

“No, it won’t!” Portia said, “I could have seriously hurt someone, do you think MC will let that slide?” she stared at Julian, her eyes becoming glossier.

“Look, you made no damage whatsoever,” Julian explained calmly as he tried to soothe his sister down, “That idiot could’ve burned the whole restaurant down.”

“Hey, don’t bring me into this!” Lucio shouted, “You did nothing the whole time! You were slow, unorganized and most of your dishes were returned!”

Julian ignored his comments, turning to Muriel, “Please don’t choose Portia,” he begged, “Choose me!”

Lucio turned to Muriel as well, “Don’t even think about choosing me!”

Muriel didn’t say a thing, instead, he just sighed, leaving the room.

“He… he won’t vote for me, right?” Lucio asked, feeling nervous.

~~~

“So, Muriel,” MC said as all of the chefs aligned, “Who do you choose and why?”

“I choose Lucio and Portia,” he felt shame as Portia’s name came out of his mouth, but there is no turning back now, “Lucio could’ve nearly burned the kitchen down had I not stepped in,” he simply explained, “As for Portia, she could’ve harmed someone with that boiling water,” he quickly added, trying to make Portia sound as good as possible, “Also, Lucio’s fake screams were completely immature. Such serious injuries shouldn’t be joked about.”

“Wait, please,” Julian walked out of the line, “I should be eliminated!” as soon as he said that, a smirk appeared on one certain doctor’s face, “I didn’t do anything when the fire started, I ignored Lucio’s cries and many people complained about my food! I, I’m not even a chef! I’m a doctor. There is no reason to keep me in the competition!”

MC stared at him, thinking about everything he said, “Very well then, if you’re so eager, join these two,” they gestured at Lucio and Portia.

“The person that will be eliminated from this competition is…” MC finally continued talking after a long pause, “Julian. Take your things and leave Hell’s kitchen.”

Despite the loss, Julian smiled brightly at MC. “Thank you for not choosing Pasha!”

“It, it’s happening!” Valdemar said happily as he stared at the camera, “Oh, what is this… feeling?” they stared at their hands, “Is it joy? Yes, it, it must be it, I have never felt so good. Oh, this is a dream come true, trust me, there is no better feeling than finally proving an idiot wrong. I just cannot wait to come back to my ordination, I should better start writing down the list of specimen I want!” they squealed like a high school girl, making the cameraman quite uncomfortable.

“Well, it sucks that I’ve lost the bet with Valdemar,” Julian admitted, “But at least my sister can keep going. I genuinely hope she can win and achieve her dream!” he said as he walked out of the Hell’s kitchen.

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