#forgot i still had some clips of the eagle! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

batarella · 4 years

Text

3 birds 1 stone - chapter 3

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: New readers, I’d like to welcome you to my blog by showing you exactly why when I wrote IDHY, a virtual angry mob was ready to burn me at the stake. Do enjoy.

WORDS: 8670 WARNINGS: PTSD

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

You were so happy then.

Before everything happened, when things went for the worst, when your life was so much more than having to settle with the mounds of shit some cruel deity decided to throw at your face. Before your life was just some settlement, which was what it probably was going to be for so long, for as long as you could foresee what was in store for you.

Back then, you were in this blissful bubble of obliviousness, having plans of your own for the next years without much thought on circumstance. You had this kind of illusive mirage that somehow, this was how it was always going to be. You knew, deeply, that it probably won't be. You knew something might happen, something bad that could put an end to this freedom. But you were ignorant, enough to still go through with these plans and thoughts, let them have their place in your head as if they were permanent. You knew they’d have to change, maybe to some extent. Just not to the extent of what actually happened.

Though you couldn’t say you wasted those oblivious moments not living each day as if you were going to suddenly drop dead on the next, especially since you actually did live those days so near to death each time without regret. You were, in the closest sense, a bird taking advantage of its large wingspan, taking advantage of its flight. You were happy, and even when you couldn’t exactly tell how those happy, oblivious days were about to be stripped away, you never let the sun set and the darkness rise when you weren’t fighting for others, fighting beside your loved ones, providing a kind of service that was needed but wasn’t so deserved, so they hadn’t gone to waste, not in your eyes. You didn’t look back and think you should have done more. You did enough. You did what you could.

One of these included what was probably one of the most stupid decisions for even a sixteen-year-old could possibly make.

The winds weren’t so strong, and it wasn’t so freezing that your limbs would occasionally stiffen after five seconds of immobility. Not many birds. No helicopters. No drones up in the air to catch you in the act. The city was practically inviting you to soar, let your wings take flight and feel exactly what it was like to be a feather so light, falling from such heights in the most delicate, mesmerizing drop, or perhaps an eagle with its wings closed, diving from thousands of feet up in the clouds, let the mist run through its feathers until it reaches so closely to the ocean’s surface, then it extends its impressive wings, gliding and hovering over the water.

It shouldn’t be any reason to do this, though. You weren’t a feather and you weren’t a literal bird. Its feasibility shouldn’t be reason enough to just set all other logical thought aside.

But, again, you don’t like wasting time. You didn’t like letting the days go without flying, falling, living.

Robin, on the other hand, clearly had more practical senses than you were, because he was shivering with his knees by then just from the sight of being a hundred stories above ground, on the highest tower in Gotham. You were right at the base of its antenna and the air was so light that if you weren’t going to get out of there any time soon, both you and your partner would drop lightheaded.

But your head wasn’t spinning. You weren’t trembling. You weren’t at all bothered by the heights and you held yourself up as if you hadn’t a fear in the world. You were the free-spirit, the bird that just couldn’t stay stagnant on a tree’s branch. Laughing at Robin, whose eyebrows were almost sticking up his forehead, you grabbed his hand.

“Tim. Seriously. You don’t have to do this with me-“

“No. No. No. I’m not letting you do this alone. It’s stupid enough as it is.”

“Then stop shaking!” you put your arm around his shoulders, then both of you turned at the ground that was much too small and blurry for you to make out anything other than the thick road. The thick, cement road that certainly was going to break you like shattered glass if things go wrong. Robin wasn’t like you, obviously. He liked to go through things after calculating every possibility, go through the safest, smartest manner and he certainly didn’t like putting his life at risk just because he wanted to.

But, then again, this had you involved.

You held his hand, squeezed it hard, then Robin let the thinning air fill his lungs to a bulk he’d probably never reached until then. He stopped shaking, or at least forced himself to stop shaking, then you turned his chin to look at you.

That’s when he smiled.

“Ready?”

“Wait, now?!”

“If we stay here, we’ll pass out!”

“Wait!” he bounced on his feet, breathing in, breathing out. You wished he wasn’t awake this time just from the rush of caffeine, but it was too late to back out now. If anything happens, you’ll be there. You’ll save him.

Do you trust yourself enough? Yes. Should you? Probably not. No one would.

“Okay, okay. Let’s do this.”

Hand in hand, you bent your knees, eyes on the ground. You ignored the thinning air. You ignored the strengthening winds. No noise. Just you and the height.

Like eagles soaring to the ocean, or a feather dropping from the clouds, you and Robin jumped from a hundred stories above and let the winds speed violently past the frozen muscles on your cheeks, the mist that was running up your suits, only to be suspended in the air when you continued to drop. Heads first, hands firm on your sides, you were alive. You were living.

“WOOOO!” you screamed until your throat burned, probably not a good idea when there were bugs all around, but it couldn’t be helped. Then your arms were up, enjoying the thrill, enjoying the fall. Robin was more focused, serious. He kept his hands strong and firm, watching as the ground grew nearer and nearer.

You dove through the air. Everything else was still, unmoving. Time was practically stopping all around you. You and Robin were in this own secluded space of a blurry, messy little figment of ecstasy, a moment when you shouldn’t care about the world, nor could you. Further and further down, you forgot you were human.

Just a few stories up from the ground, you both shot your capes up to break the fall, suspend yourselves in the air whilst ignoring the slapping impact. Arms were starting to hurt, but you held on. You were gliding down, and it was slowing.

Then you shot your grapples up to the building right across, Queen Industries, and suddenly rising back up towards the sky from whence you were sinking from. The shift of the winds wasn’t so kind to your skin, but it was all the more uplifting, invigorating. Every nerve ending in your body was buzzing and your blood was going rampant.

When your feet landed on the rooftops and your bodies rolled about the floor, there was an inescapable grin on your face, cheeks numb from either the rush, the air, or from your smiles. And your laughter was everywhere. With your trembling arms circling your own stomach, you rolled about, chuckling on the ground. The high was there. You didn’t want it to go away.

“That was amazing!” you screamed. Robin, who was also on the ground near you, wasn’t as ecstatic. He looked scared out of his wits, lips were almost as white as his skin, and the poor thing was visibly shaking. You started to crawl after him, but you just couldn’t stop laughing.

A few more moments to get yourselves together, Robin catching his breath, reminding himself that he wasn’t about to die, and you with your high slowly subsiding but your chuckles still there, he finally pulled himself up.

“Fucking come here, you.”

“Tim, no!”

He slammed his body against you on the ground. You were both numb and buzzing, and you laughed and tried so hard to push him off of you, but his back was against your chest, and he certainly wasn’t very light. Both of you smiling, laughing, Robin grabbed both your hands and pinned it against the floor so you couldn’t budge.

“Not so fun, now is it?”

“Get off me!”

“We could have died!” he laughed.

“Yet, here we are!”

He was so pretty, even with the mask. His nose was sniffling from the cold, and still his skin was warm felt through his suit that was against you. His masked face was starting to get closer, and you kept laughing, still in a buzz. It was his choice to come with you, and you wouldn’t have let him if you didn’t know your dangerous endeavors most often left Tim just as high up in the clouds as you were. A break from his work.

He stayed on top of you, no longer laughing. He was watching you with your cheeks so high up and your smile so contagious. Robin’s one hand was now on your face, gently holding it. He was your high. He was the happiness you thought would never go away. The happiness that was permanent. You swore you could feel bells and keys playing in the distance, because everything around you suddenly felt so soft and delicate, like the air was afraid to topple you over.

This attitude you had of being a wild bird, so unafraid of falling yet so afraid of not being able to fly, it probably wasn’t a good idea with you not exactly being the best fighter in the family. Close calls, you had them too many times. Sometimes, it was to no other’s fault than yours. They worried you in the aftermath. They made you train for hours on end, but that was only because pulling your muscles with training just seems like a better option than being more cautious, to clip your arms back, or worse, your wings. You liked flying too much. You weren’t about to give it up.

You lived, and when you did, so did Tim.

You stopped by then, silent. The high from the fall had subsided, but it was then overtaken by Robin’s breath so cool against your mouth, your noses touching so playfully and delicately. You grinned from ear to ear, and when you felt his forehead starting to lean right against yours, your communicators started up.

You threw your head back against the ground, and Robin frustratingly groaned, pushing on his ear. “Batman?”

Though his arms were still around you and he just let your fingers continue to lightly trace the R on his chest.

“Trouble at Drescher. Sending you coordinates right now. You two get over here ASAP.”

Eyes shut close, he turned his communicator off, then took another minute to look at you in the eyes. You drew his hair back on his head, letting the strands breeze through your cool fingers. A peck to your nose, then Robin sat up and pulled you with him.

“Wanna do that again, soon?”

“No. Not in my life. And neither will you.”

You pouted, but he just pinched your cheek. “Race you.”

“Wait-“

He started running down the ledge, and before you knew it, he was jumping towards another rooftop, shooting his grappling gun in the air. You knew you wouldn’t win this, yet you ran after him, faster than your legs could bear.

Everyday, it was like this. You loved the thrill. You loved that high. You craved it every time. You went through training like a madman just so your life wouldn’t be put in as much of a risk. You did everything to enjoy what you had, never letting anything go without being cherished, without being put to its use. And that included your wings. You did enough when you could. You did everything.

You just wished you could continue to do it now.

-----

A yellow bow, perfectly tied and fixed on the top. The wrapping could have gone a bit better, but you guessed it looked decent enough. It had to be seamless, perfect, just as he’d wrapped all those other Valentine’s day gifts he never failed to send to you each year. At this point, it was unfair how Tim’s gift had the most attention, the cleanest, most delicate wrapping that hoarded most of your efforts than all your other gifts, and it wasn’t without a smile when you tied that perfect bow and smoothed out the wrapper with your palms. And on the tag, beautiful calligraphy that spelled out his name with a heart on the side. All the while, you had soft, soothing tunes playing from the phone plugged beside your bed and the window slightly open to let the cool in. Snow was falling so delicately, onto the ledge outside your room and some on the window sill.

Wiping that bit of sweat on your hairline despite the cold, you piled Tim’s gift with everyone else’s in a large bag and stood from your desk. It was well into the noon. Everyone should be on their way to the manor by now.

And only at Wayne Manor could you get away with having a Christmas pool party in the middle of a stormy winter. At the indoor pool, of course, where everything was heated and warm. It was Steph’s idea. As much as you’d prefer to do other things, you couldn’t exactly vote your way out of this.

With your bag full of gifts on your shoulder, you stepped out into the falling snow, hands deep into your coat, then you hailed a taxi.

Tim would probably like what you got him, though it wasn’t exactly a gift you’d normally give to just any casual friend. Not that Tim was a casual friend in the slightest. A watch. An expensive one that you bought with the money he paid with for the last painting he bought from you. You had no idea it would eventually add up to such an amount, but it got you to buy him a decent gift. And to add to the sentimentality, you added a small painting the size of your hand sitting with the watch in the box. It was of you and him, in your old suits, overlooking the City of Gotham from the highest tower. You also made the box yourself, then you wrapped it so well you couldn’t help but feel proud.

Yeah. It would probably be too much. But this was Tim. It’s always different when it’s Tim.

Though, doing all this would escalate what you have with him. Your friend. Your best friend.

Are you ready to be more than that?

Still no answer. Not since you first asked yourself the moment you woke up that morning. Not even in the back of your mind.

It wasn’t because of your lingering feelings for Dick. You weren’t going to pursue Dick, and with that it was probably a bad idea to gift him an entire painting he was supposed to pay you for. The one of Bludhaven he asked for weeks ago that you said would be done by tomorrow and not today. Other than that, no more pining. You established that. Written it in stone for years now.

So it wasn’t because of Dick that you had doubts for Tim, someone you loved. Probably still do.

There was just that tiny little detail holding you back, something you couldn’t forget no matter how much you tried to. Something that you wanted to let go, so you could move forward and actually make beautiful something that was already so precious to you.

No. You probably weren’t ready now. Maybe someday.

It’s ridiculous how your decisions can be so unclear and clouded, decisions you didn’t even have proper ground to build from.

But this was Christmas. You were giving him a gift, not pouring your heart out to him. You’ll be fine. For now.

You reached the manor and you fought your way through the snow, head buried into your scarf. Alfred greeted you inside and took your coat, telling you everyone else had already gone to the indoor pool area. Setting your gifts under the tree, you got your clothes and made your way down to the basement.

The room had been warmed up, of course. Like a private tropical getaway in the middle of winter. The heater was practically blowing against your face and it thawed down the icicles forming under your nose the moment you stepped in. Plants against the walls, a small waterfall coming from the ceiling from high above. There were three marble pool chairs seated at the sides of the oval-shaped pool that had changing color lights from underneath the floor. Music was blaring through the speakers, as well, along with laughter, people talking over one another. Almost instantly, you were sweating, so you took your sweater off.

It was totally because of the new-found heat.

Totally.

Tim was first to come up to you, shirtless and drenched from the sweet strands of his black hair down to his toes. Drips of the chlorinated water were so delicately sticking to his skin and so slowly tracing the lines of his lean muscled pecs.

His gorgeous, gorgeous body that looked all too inviting. Tim had been working out, because he was definitely bigger than the last time you saw him with his shirt off. His abs were more defined. His pecs just looked so lean and perfectly molded. His biceps looked a lot bigger, stronger, strong enough to snap a neck in one move.

There was a table at the side that served water from a pitcher and you never reached for something so quickly in your life.

“You’re here!” he ruffled his damp hair and smiled at you so handsomely you wanted to scream. You nodded, keeping the glass of water between your lips. Then you swallowed hard in an attempt to not accidentally drop your jaw. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” you gulped. “You guys sure are acting like there’s not a blizzard happening outside.”

“What’s a pool party for a change? Come swim with us!”

Tim took the glass of water from your hands, and hearts were practically floating around your head when he craned his head up, drank from the glass with his throat doing little jumps as he swallowed, with the water slightly leaking from the corners of his mouth all the way down his collarbone and chest. The water from his hair also dripped down to the floor, and his pale skin looked so cool to touch. It was glistening, like gold and silver mixed in a pot, melted together in the form of such gorgeousness you couldn’t take your eyes away from. Your lips were between your teeth and you looked away before he could see you staring for far too long.

“Have fun, Tim!” you said, then he was already running back to the pool, jumping in the air to land a cannonball.

You had to take a long minute to stretch out your neck, which you hadn’t noticed was so tense and stiff you could have died right then. Setting the glass back on the table, you went over to one of the pool chairs to set your duffel bag down, pulling out your towel to place at the back of the chair.

“That chair’s taken, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you looked up for a split second and there was someone standing right in front of you on the other side of the chair. Grabbing your stuff back, you hurriedly fumbled with your bag. “Sorry, I just saw it was empt-“

You squealed. You actually let out a light, high-pitched squeal like some kind of hamster spinning around its wheel the same way your brain was spinning in circles around your skull. Dick was in front of you, in nothing else but a pair of blue swim shorts, and his taller, more built, yet still lean frame was staring back at you, an acrobat’s body.

Which you could describe as the most perfect, beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Not a flaw in sight. Bright, tanned skin looking back at you to make your knees shiver. And every move he made, some muscle would flex. It was just way too perfect.

“I’m kidding,” he said. Then he grabbed his own bag that he’d slung on the back, where you hadn’t seen it. “We’ll share this one.”

Damp skin. Black hair slicked back and clean. A drip of water was, as if nature was making it happen herself, falling down on his skin right in between his defined pecs and abs. Dick turned his head to the side, then started jumping with his hand slapping the side of his head. “I think I got water in my ear.”

“Mhm,” was all you said, because it took every bit of might in you just to keep yourself from squawking like a bird when his shoulders started to flex and the water from his body started splashing against you.

Get yourself together, you complete asshat.

Placing the towel back on the chair, you tried so hard not to look at his swim shorts that were starting to drop further and further down his hips the more he shook his head. His arms looked so strong. You want to be encased in them, carry you around so you’ll never have to walk a day in your life.

And his face was impossibly beautiful, like something out the runway or a romantic comedy with the most unrealistic expectations. A stray hair had fallen on his forehead, and you just wanted to reach over to place it to the back of his head so his eyes wouldn’t be covered.

“Fuck,” he groaned, then he looked relieved. “Finally got it out. You gonna swim?”

“I, uh-“ you said. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t planning to.”

“Come on. You're missing out!”

Dick winked at you, then he hopped back into the water with Cass and Duke, who also looked insanely pretty with his shirt off-

You couldn’t even look anywhere around the room and not see something that made you want to drown yourself in the pool from the red creeping up the veins on your neck.

Steph was there, talking to Tim as they floated on the water in bright yellow bikini. Cass was sitting on the edge, legs tossing about while Dick and Duke were wrestling it out in the water like twelve-year-old boys. Bruce, who Alfred finally convinced to enjoy Christmas like a normal person and take a load off, was sleeping peacefully on the pool chair at the farthest end, not looking like he wanted to be bothered by even the slightest bit with his arm covering his eyes.

And Damian was on the lounge chair right beside him doing the exact same thing, with a book over his head.

Babs wasn’t here. Probably with her own family. Which you probably should be, too, since you were technically the only one in the room who wasn’t an adopted child and more of a really close companion just like Babs who went with these group of beautiful crackheads wherever they go.

You sat on the lounge chair, weight on your hands, and you were thoroughly enjoying the sight of these kids, and that was basically all you were planning to do for the whole day.

No, you didn’t plan on swimming.

No, you haven’t been to the beach or another pool party in more than a year.

Yes, you were keeping your long pants on.

Then, of course, as is the world just couldn’t help but continue to pick on your poor, withered soul like a puppy with a stick, another flush surged up to your cheeks and you tried way too hard to focus on the ground.

Even through the rippling water, you could see every bit of Jason’s muscles flexing and stretching and moving so perfectly. The largest, tallest, most built man in the room, completely jacked up to any human being’s possible capacity. And of course, there were the scars that made you want to internally grunt and scream like a lunatic in a full moon. Eyes on him, and your cheeks no longer coloring but every nerve ending beneath your flesh buzzing in a cold chill, you locked eyes when he came over to the pool side right in front of you, placed his arms on the ledge and folded them to rest his chin on top.

Oh fuck. The veins. They were practically popping out of his skin.

Swallowing, you turned to the wall.

Why couldn’t you just be closer to your real parents, to your brothers and sisters you barely contact anymore so you could spend today with them? Why couldn’t you have just reached out and called so you could spend Christmas there and not in a multi-million-dollar mansion filled with the hottest men alive who are also your dear, dear friends just so you could keep some part of your sanity and dignity intact? Why couldn’t the world just be a little bit crueler at the same time kinder to you?

“Happy holidays, pretty bird,” Jason said. His hair was completely wet, and you tried not to look at the really long, painful looking scar that was stretching all the way from his wrist up to his absolutely phenomenal bicep that was bigger than your head.

Okay. You really had to stop gawking at every shirtless, black haired male that came up to you.

Especially not the incredibly pretty, incredibly flirty one that had the thighs you often found yourself trailing your wandering mind about. Could you see his thighs if you just moved your head enough to peak under water? Surely, they had enough substance to be visible but if you just moved a little bit-

Enough.

Sighing, filling your lungs with the warming air when you felt like you needed a swim in the four feet of snow that was piling up outside the building, you turned to Jason. “Merry Christmas.”

“You won't swim?”

You swallowed. “I don’t think I should…”

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to. Don’t let Tim and Dick get to you.”

Jason pulled himself up the surface, moving his ass so he could sit at the edge of the pool and oh my god his back looked so perfect and muscled and huge and a waterfall was draining down his rock-hard chest and back and his hair was so perfectly messy and roughed up and again with his back and the curves of his shoulders and fuck you could finally see his thighs and they looked even bigger than usual when he sits like that FUCK his arms his chest his beautiful, beautiful abs-

You had to get out of this fucking place.

Coughing, swallowing, panicking, getting whatever was stuck in your throat out of your system, Jason looked back at you and you rushed to look as completely normal and non-flustered as you could.

“I’m not letting them get to me.”

He shot his eyebrows up, and you inched about so you were both facing the same way. He rocked his legs in the water, and you watched as everyone else laughed and gathered in the center for a chicken fight, with Cass on Dick’s shoulders and Tim on Steph’s shoulders.

“Won't you join them?”

He snorted. “I’m fine. Besides, if you’re just gonna sit there all alone, might as well keep you company.”

“I’m fine, Jason. Seriously. I’ll swim if it means you don’t have to.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

Your hands were gripping on the chair’s edges too tight; your knuckles went white and you kept your head down.

“It took me two years just to take my shirt off when I train in a private gym, Y/N. An autopsy scar’s not exactly something you want to flaunt about.”

You stared at your knees, at the metal that stuck out of your jeans.

“And even now, I only work out in the cave or in my apartment. I can't show myself in public. Probably not ever.”

Your nerves stopped buzzing. Your face started to cool. But something in your gut had started to hallow out and dig through the depths. A feeling you never liked but were forced to go through much too often.

“How do you know I just don’t like being in the water?”

The look on his face looked more like an annoyed scowl than a comforting frown. He rolled his eyes, then turned back facing forward, at Duke who’d sunk to the water when he went against Steph in a fight.

“I’m fine. But thank you for opening up to me.”

He shrugged, without giving you a glance.

“Don’t take it the wrong way though. They’re not asking you to swim to tell you ‘Oh, we don’t care that you only have one leg. We promise we think of you the same way as any two-legged mammal.’ They’re not exactly pretending it isn’t there, which I first thought they did, and I hated it when that happened to me. I sure as hell know you do to.”

Yeah. You did. You hated it especially when they try to tell you nothing was wrong or nothing was going to change. Because pretending it isn’t there, or that the accident didn’t happen, is just as bad as telling you that having one leg was something you should definitely overlook just to live normally.

“They’re asking you to swim because they genuinely think there’s nothing wrong with you and that there’s nothing to be ashamed with taking your prosthetic off. They mean well.”

“I know they do.” You swung your legs about, looking at the skin on your left one and the steel on the other. “But it’s a lot easier for them to say. I get it. I’m not mad.”

Jason roughed up his hair, bicep glistening, then he turned to you and smirked. “You’re holding up better than I ever did, though.”

“Losing a leg is considerably better than dying and coming back to life.”

Snorting and laughing, Jason leaned over his knees. “Have you ever taken it off in front of anyone so far?”

You shook your head. “Just with Tim.”

“Ah,” he nodded.

“I don’t even like to let it show. I haven’t worn shorts in years and the summer heat absolutely kills me.”

“Tell me about it,” he laughed. “I’m not gonna tell you to start showing it in public because it looks cool and all. Having a cybernetic limb. Which it is. But that’s like telling me I shouldn’t be afraid to show my scars ‘cuz the look hot.”

They do. They really fucking do.

“Yeah. It sucks when people do that.”

“It does.”

Silence when Steph’s screams filled the room. She was pushed onto the water, a large splash that drenched everyone all around her. You and Jason smiled and watched.

He understood you. And everything he said sounded straight out of the back of your head.

He never babied you. He never treated you any differently.

Because if there was anyone else in this family who knew trauma, it’s him.

Jason would have hated the kind of spoils and treatment you got from Dick, Tim, and Bruce after you lost your leg. Back when you used to fight alongside them, you went home alone to your apartment you’d shared with an unknowing roommate. But then the incident happened. You couldn’t exactly work anymore. You couldn’t pay the bills. So they let you stay in the manor for so many bed-ridden weeks. That was the only time you lived here, and you didn’t exactly have much of a choice but to accept everything Bruce had spent for you. Like a state-of-the-art bionic leg.

And you hated that.

When you finally could, you moved back out. And everyone has been asking you to come back to the manor ever since.

Everyone except Jason.

“Take that robot leg off when you're ready. Don’t swim if it isn’t to save your life.”

“I won't. Thank you. Now go join them. Please. I’ll be fine.”

You nudged his shoulder with your leg, and he grinned at you with his hair fallen to his eyes.

Thankfully, none of them gathered around the pool side near you just to force themselves to make you feel included. None of them gave you concerned looks or whispered to the other asking if they should come over and ask if you wanted to join in. Just as you wanted. So you just laid on the lounge chair, settled yourself as comfortably as you could, and let their cheers and laughter lull you to sleep.

-----

After everyone had dried up and changed, you went on with their rightfully anticipated Christmas dinner, with Bruce and Damian sitting on opposite ends of the long table, everyone else in between, and Alfred serving the best turkeys, yams, and pies enough for a whole table of starving vigilantes.

Tim was right in front of you, and you couldn’t help the smiles when you’d so often catch him looking up at you and flash that grin.

When you’d all finished, everyone went to the parlor and settled. Damian played the piano, and Bruce was on the sofa chair relaxing while everybody else sat in a circle. Talking. Laughing. Being normal for a change.

The parlor looked divine. Decorated so beautifully all by the hands of a hard-working butler. The cold and the snow, falling outside the three glass windows between the bookshelves that littered the walls. Then there were lights on the pillars, on the ceiling and the ledges that looked like heaven’s gates and fences being lit up in bright yellow. There were wreaths on the otherwise empty walls, and the carpets and drapes were switched from the usual boring dark red into a more festive print with greens and yellows.

Then there was the tree, high enough to almost reach the already tall ceiling. And it was undoubtably magnificent, with bright, starry lights, expensive looking flowers and balls hanging on its branches. A gold star was on top, of course. It sat right by the side near the gorgeously decorated fireplace that burned and cozied up the place to smell like roasted chestnuts and firewood.

You took your mug of hot chocolate and sat back against the couch. Tim was beside you. He had been for the whole time almost never leaving you out of his sight. And you placed your head on his shoulder, listening to the fire crackling, the snow falling, the piano so wonderfully playing right before it abruptly stopped just as the grandfather clocked started to chime.

“It’s midnight, Father,” Damian stood up and went straight for the tree. “You said we can open the presents.”

“Go ahead.”

A bright smirk from the adorable little brat, then he was then racing to the tree with Steph to open their presents under the tree.

You and Tim took your time. You didn’t want to leave his shoulder. Eventually you both moved to sit right in front of the warming fire for your presents.

You both started with other people’s gifts. Steph gave you a really pretty dress. Cass and Duke gave you art materials, really nice ones that you’d use almost everyday. Bruce, of course, gave you a cheque, just like he’d given everyone else in that room that was enough to pay a common man’s rent for half a year. Jason gave you paint brushes that he hadn’t taken off of its original packaging from Amazon. You laughed.

Then you saw a blue box with your name written in perfect cursive. It was well-wrapped, and it was heavy. The bow looked seamlessly fixed as well.

Tim was busy with his own gift, so he wasn’t watching you as you slowly opened the wrapper.

When you opened the box, there was a black, square-shaped device sitting alone in the bottom. The box itself was wonderfully decorated, with brown confetti on the bottom to cushion the floor.

You picked up the device and saw that it was a hard drive. A terabyte’s capacity. When you flipped it over, there was a note taped to the back.

‘Every movie we ever watched together, about fifty of your favorite classic ones, twelve you’ve been so excited to see but never could, and a hundred we’re yet to go over. Thanks for welcoming me back. Merry Christmas, Y/N.

From Dick’

There were other things as well sitting with the hard drive.

A polaroid photo of you, leaping up a vault in a perfect position.

A fountain pen, with your name engraved on the center.

A packet of hot sauce from that one Mexican restaurant when you ate the whole thing thinking it was ketchup.

A small box of your favorite chocolate chip cookies that Bruce once brought from Switzerland, ones that could never be found in America.

A pair of sharp, cat eye sunglasses you always made fun of every time you saw someone wear them around the city.

A piece of tissue that had your handwriting scribbled on it, from when you and Dick tried to write a song in the middle of a fundraising gala because you were so bored.

And a drawing you made years ago, back when you could barely sketch out an apple. Dick caught you trying to draw a tree outside the manor and ripped the page out of the sketchbook. You never knew he kept it.

You never knew he kept any of this.

Dick was on the other side of the Christmas tree, helping Damian out with his presents. You caught his eye, and when his beautiful blue eyes made you jump, you smiled at him.

He smiled back.

Then when Tim inched behind you, tapping on your shoulder, you saw Dick lose his smile, slowly facing the ground and cover his mouth with his palm.

You snapped back to where you were sitting and laughed when you saw Tim was wearing a little elf’s hat on his head. You reached over, toyed with its bell, and he playfully scowled at you.

“Here,” you handed over your gift for him. “Merry Christmas.”

“This isn’t another coffee mug, is it?” he joked.

“No, and you're insane if you think I’m enabling your addiction any more.”

Tim sat cross-legged, and you had your legs set to the side as you watched him smile so heart-warmingly beautiful that it could possibly hurt you and your eyes if you even dare to look away for even a second. Probably not hurt, but it would make you miss out on one of those scenes you just wouldn’t want to miss. A brightly-lit fire, lighting up his face in an orange glow, the sweet smell of candy that had just been served on the coffee table nearby. And of course, the sight of him, eyes glimmering and shining with its blue hue.

Tim took the gift from you. Maybe you did take this a step too far, a step you weren’t sure you were ready to take. A step that needed you to forget what had happened years ago and move on.

But you could set that aside for now. You just wanted to enjoy this.

“Wow…” he breathed. You saw his chest heave, his cheeks looking like it hurt from the smiling he was doing. He took the watch and already had it around his wrist. It looked so good on him.

Then he stared too long at the painting you made for him.

“Y/N, I don’t know what to say…”

You let the beauty in front of you sink into your skin, into your flesh, into your head. Him, looking so happy and content, just as you used to be years ago. You’d left those years of yearning to fly and leaned to love what was so mesmerizing when you just took the time to sit down, marvel over the world flashing right in front of you. Your world. Your best friend.

Not even the fire was as warm as him, even when he was sitting almost a foot in front of you, but as he inched forward, close enough to let your knees touch, you looked up and met his eyes. Everything was so elusively delicate, that even with so much brightness and colors, looking at him softened everything else. Softened you. Grounded you.

You couldn’t imagine being without Tim. Not even for a minute.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

He was blushing, handing you an equally small box that was also considerably heavy. Your face started to hurt at this point from the amount of smiling you were doing.

But when you had it in your hands, you lost your smile. It didn’t have a wrapper. It didn’t have a bow.

It was a velvet jewelry box.

So soft to touch beneath your fingers, you ran your hand over your initials engraved on the top and felt every bit in you melt just as it would have being so close to the fire. You didn’t know if your palms were sweating from the heat, from the excitement of getting to find out what was inside, or the nerves that were rabidly going insane from the look on Tim’s eyes staring at you like you were the world.

Trying so hard not to shake, you opened the box.

Then you actually stopped shaking. In fact, you stopped moving at all.

You’ve never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

So greatly contrasting the dark velvet, a radiantly glimmering necklace with a light silver chain stole every bit of your breath until your chest could no longer heave, no matter how much you felt the need to. You ran your hand down, brushing your fingers down until you reached the pendant.

Your initials, stylized so gorgeously and encrusted with the brightest little diamonds.

It caught your eyes and all of your attention that no longer could you hear much of everything else that went on, with Tim still staring at you, nervous at your reaction. Your mouth was parted. Your breath started up after a while but only to keep you alive.

You never could say you had your breath taken away so many times in your life. But if you could, this moment was definitely one you were going to remember for the rest of your life.

“Here.” Tim took the necklace back from you, then asked you to turn around.

You swallowed at the buzzing warmth when his hands went around you, locking the necklace behind your hair. You still couldn’t move. Everything was a blur and at the same time nothing moved so clear, steady, and slow, like a movie on slow motion. Your skin felt cool but everything within you was as scorching as the fire.

When you turned back around, Tim was so dangerously close to you that you just knew there was no going back from this, no pretending that you were just going to be best friends.

You hugged him, pulled him so closely in your arms. And he did the same.

And you stayed that way all through the night. That wonderful, normal, beautiful Christmas night that was that taste of normality you often craved as much as you missed not being normal.

You decided to stay in the manor. Just for that night. It was snowing too hard for you to go home to your apartment anyway and by the time you and the family had finished with the festivities, it was a few hours away before the sun would eventually come up.

Tim walked you to your room while it was still dark.

“I had a great night,” you said, and he went with you into your room and closed the door behind him.

“I did, too.”

“Thank you for having me.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, and Tim stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets. “You know you’re family, Y/N.”

Smiling, tossing your feet about as it hovered over the ground, you inched back to the center of the bed, bringing your feet closer, then you started pulling the ends of your jeans up to your knees. Tim walked towards you and sat on the edge, then you watched him take off your prosthetic leg for you.

Then he squeezed your knee. He didn’t even turn on the lights. Everything was dark, save for the light coming from outside the window. The snow pouncing against the glass were the only sound there was, and with the chill that came with it, you wrapped your arms around yourself.

Tim’s hand still on your knee, the warmest thing there was to aid you, you could make out his eyes, his sharp nose, his pale skin that looked so soft to touch, his lips so soft you could see even with so little light.

He moved closer. Closer.

You moved closer as well.

Then his hand was on your cheek.

It wasn’t sudden. It had been building up since you saw him in the pool.

But it was nevertheless a burning fire being thrown with a bottle of gasoline, bursting out into the air at the instant that tension finally came with its climactic collision.

You both leaned in at the same time, and you could have sworn the ice that had frozen over your chest, from the years of trauma, cynicism, of wanting vengeance, it all melted at the instant his lips grazed so delicately against your own, how gentle he was, like he was terrified you could possibly break. They were wet, and soft, and you made them even more so when you pressed yourself even closer against him. His hand on your knee went up to hold the other side of your face, and your hands were on his wrists, holding them, squeezing them, feeling how firm he was making sure you wouldn’t pull away.

He was everything. He was always everything. To you. And supposedly to everyone else.

With the light outside so slowly starting to dim, leaving the room in such blackness you couldn’t see past, you relied on your hands, your lips, your every other sense to know what he was doing.

And what he was doing was pushing you to lie back on the bed.

Yes.

Yes-

No.

A sharp jab of an icicle, or a knife, or a bullet that went straight to your chest, tugging so violently that you instantly jumped at the hot flashes of images, pictures, memories that so painfully played in front of your eyes.

The pain. It was still there. You were so, so terribly afraid that it was. That it never left. Because you wished it could just go away and leave you be. So you could have him, again.

But it was all still there. Every word he’d said that day. The look on his face. Everything that led up to it. Everything that happened after. Everything that raced in your whirlwind of thought.

It was disgusting how cruel you were to yourself, to let it all suddenly come back to you at the worst moments.

Because you couldn’t help it. As much as you prayed you could. As much as you believed you finally forgave him, you hadn’t.

You pushed Tim away.

At first, confusion, with what so little you could see plastered on his face.

Then that confusion turned to realization.

Then it was hurt. Pain.

Because he knew, too. He understood.

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry…” you buried your face into your palms. “I’m so sorry…”

He pulled on your chin, tried to kiss you again.

But you stopped his wrists and pried them away from you.

“Please…”

“I can't…”

“Please… I thought we had this… I thought we were gonna-“

“I can't forget it didn’t happen, Tim…”

“I love you.”

“I know…” you whispered so softly as if saying it any louder would only heighten the pain. But it was, inescapably, equally painful if you’d screamed it out the window.

“Why?” Tim licked his lips, holding your face. “I’ve waited so long…”

Waited. Waited for you.

All those years. He was waiting for you.

“Is it because of Dick?”

You closed your eyes, shook your head. “Not even a little bit.”

“Then why?”

Whatever the pain that came with that, it couldn’t possibly have been as worse as what you had to go through.

That tug on your chest went on, and when you could see his eyes, with so little light, you held his face.

“You broke up with me, Tim…” you choked.

Everything in his face, every bit of hope you could see in his eyes, it all went away in an instant.

“Y/N, that relationship… We were kids…”

“That’s the problem,” you swallowed. “It didn’t mean anything to you. It meant everything to me…”

“That’s not true…”

“No one has ever hurt me the way you did.” You tried taking your hands away from him but he wouldn’t let you. You just closed your eyes.

“I-I was…” he swallowed. “I was a kid. I had no idea. But then… You were still so kind to me and you never treated me any different… You’re everything …”

“I was a mess…” you gulped. “And the worst part was… you weren’t. You were okay.”

“Y/N, I swear, that isn’t true…”

Tears, even when you’ve cried enough of them over the years now.

“Did you love me then?” you asked.

Tim was crying. “Of course, I did-“

“But not as much as I loved you…”

He didn’t have to answer that.

Because you knew you loved him more. At least back then. You could see it. Everyone could see it.

Otherwise it wouldn’t have been too much for him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left you so broken when he was more than okay.

It hurt just thinking about it.

“B-but, I…” he took your hands. “But I love you so much now… More than I ever did… It can't be too late… Please.”

No, it probably wasn’t too late.

Tim didn’t start loving you too late, because you never stopped yourself.

But it hurt you so much, that it forever made you believe that the people you loved endlessly were going to love you less, leave you when things get too much.

“I’m sorry…”

“If this is because of-“

“You can blame Dick all you want.” Your voice was stern, firm, no longer shaking. “But we both know what really happened.”

“Y/N,” he cried.

“I loved you first,” you said. “And you know that. I fell in love with you. I chose you. Over Dick. Over everyone else. I was hurt… and so vulnerable. Dick was there. He helped me through it…”

Tim cried, and you felt his tears fall to your legs when he bent over to cover his face. You reached over to him.

“I’m so sorry…” he sobbed.

You pulled back.

Then you took the necklace off your neck, taking his hand, stuffing it into his palm.

“No, please.” He placed it back into your hand. “Please keep it.”

Your hand didn’t flinch away. You didn’t push back.

Everything was in a raging blizzard around you, even with the snow outside falling so soft. The only thing you thought of doing was closing your eyes to block it all off.

Tim backed away, and never have you felt so cold.

“I’m sorry…” he said.

He stood from the bed, wiping the tears with his sleeve.

“No,” you said, just before he went for the door. “I am.”

-----

A/N:

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

------

MAIN TAGLIST:

@everyartistwas-firstanamateur, @sarcasmismyfirstlove, @damned-queen-of-gotham, @idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @get-loki, @everyday-imfangirling, @comic-nerd-dc, @multifandomgirl-us, @multifandoms916, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @egdolan, @xemiefx, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @mythicbitchx, @lucy-roo, @roseangel013bf, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @shadowsndaisies, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, @ jasonsbitch

SERIES TAGLIST:

@spaceservicestation

421 notes · View notes

steve0discusses · 4 years

Text

Yugioh S4 Ep21: Duke Puts on Duel Disk, Immediately Takes Disk Off

So last time we ended, Yugi and Tea were stranded in the middle of an ancient warfield that was hundreds of feet off the side of this cliff topped with a seldom used railroad track.

And yes, this is all somewhere in what should be one of the most populated parts of the Bay Area.

Amazed that this school uniform can go through such rugged terrain. But then again, last season it got hit squarely with a fireball, so...this school uniform is essentially a Batman suit.

But I just want to point out that Yugi didn’t take the duel disk off before vaulting up this cliff. Tea has a bag youknow...but gotta sweat up the duel disk that our entire world relies on.

It would be very funny if this season ended abruptly because Yami either dropped this thing on the ground and finally broke it, or just plain forgot he needed to charge it’s batteries.

And so now we just walk...kind of in the direction where they hope Joey and Tristan are?

I do appreciate that although Pharaoh is completely lost in a foreign country, he will not admit it.

(read more under the cut)

On the other side of the tracks, Joey is dragging his Sisyphean stone.

Please admire that this entire scene takes place somewhere in the Grand Canyon. Like it’s episode 20 and I just still can’t get past how they went to California and didn’t include a single beach.

Mai has decided she’s done screaming off the back of a motorcyle, and has decided to come over to Dartz’ lair to scream where the traffic isn’t quite so bad.

And she just rage quits.

Is this the first rage quit we’ve ever had in this show about games? Incredible.

Also, I didn’t realize you could just quit the end of the world cult in the final hours of ending the world, but I guess it doesn’t really matter much to Dartz. Whether Mai ends up killing Joey or doesn’t end up killing Joey, it’s still a soul in the Leviathan bucket so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, in the actual dialogue of the show, Dartz tells Valon that Mai’s basically going to get what she deserves and no one here needs to even do anything to change or stop it. But, it was still somewhat surprising that this 10,000 year old serial murderer world destroyer was so down to shell out some relationship advice. Almost like maybe he has somewhat of a fatherly concern for his stupid ass murder boys. Kind of. Sort of.

Enough to try and tell Valon to leave this one alone because she’s gone maniacal pixie dream girl and there’s no coming back from that.

In order to have motorcycle gangs, you have to have bearable enough traffic for said gangs. That’s why we just don’t have a motorcycle gang problem in real deal California like a lot of 70′s-80′s movies would have you think. They’d only be able to drive in like...one lane, and they’d get constantly cut off and driven off the road by Google buses.

TBH the Google bus is our true modern motorcycle gang, there are just so many of these damn buses. And also, I deleted a lot of text right now when I went off about the ongoing bus war, which is absolutely a thing here. The motorcyclists are just doing me a solid by not being a car on the road and staying out of my lane.

In a more realistic version of this show, Mai would have never made it to the desert, she’d be too busy watching only one single car able to turn right onto Octavia every light cycle because of all the damn private buses and uber cars flooding our itty bitty one way streets.

And to try and tame Mai, Valon decides to do this...motorcycle stand off?

It’s like he’s trying to catch a feral cat.

At some point one of them stops, and like I was focused too much on how good their brakes are to pay attention to who stopped first.

Probably Valon, because Mai is completely insane.

And so then he just...

Y’all I know they had to give Valon motivation to be in love with Mai, but this kids show jumped through so many hoops to make this very unhealthy relationship appear like Valons love was pure and true while still showing that this is a very unhealthy relationship. Kind of a hard balance.

It’s actually interesting how much work they put into Valon’s very tragic and problematic relationship after they’ve dodged every other problematic relationship this show has brought forth.

Like the villain with a heart of gold is a trope, but it’s a trope that works. There is no hope in the world that this relationship could pan out. They’re not a misunderstood pair like he thinks they are. They’re freakin terrible and they don’t deserve each other. But he’s gonna try and do it anyway.

We get to watch Valon bargain (mostly with himself) about how this relationship (which exists mostly in his head) is going to absolutely work out, because to him, if he feels so intensely, eventually she’s gotta feel the same. Most people haven’t murdered people, but it’s still a very relatable type of situation that the show displays without getting too preachy about how it’s clearly bad news. They just introduce it for the audience to come to their own conclusions, and I was really surprised by that level of maturity.

I’ve been sitting here saying “There’s no way this show could balance Tea with Yugi and the Ghost in his head. There’s no way they can really touch on Kaiba and that paper card. There’s no way that this show knows how to do a relationship because they don’t want to get involved with that weird gray area.” and you know what? Maybe they can.

Like they’re doing it right now. Did they just need 4 seasons of people complaining to go “Fine! I’ll write out the problematic relationship! I’ll do it!” because--this works for them. They finally did it.

Now, I’m not saying it’s Oscar worthy or developed beyond a trope, I’m just saying I’m genuinely surprised to see it on this show, and they should have done it more often. It’s a super weird pairing, but way more interesting than like...all that time we spent with Serenity because I actually have something to look forward to. (which will be when Valon inevitably dies in a ball of tragic glory)

So many romance stories give me nothing to look forward to, y’all. You have to give me something. Like, I’ve been reading a lot of not great romance in my life, and you have to have some sort of time limit in place for me to care about your couple. To have only have so much time before the other person gets married, moves, ends the world--I don't care--but man that time limit is crucial and so much romance just...forgets.

Like Bonnie and Clyde, Romeo and Juliet, and other ill fated couples, Valon and Mai end up being interesting because we just love seeing people fall into pieces. Hell, I just finished watching Tiger King and damn, what makes that show so good is that you are just waiting on that time limit to see how bad it gets. (and it’s crazy, super recommend Tiger King, although it’s very clear that they pushed the drama a little beyond realism but man. Good TV.)

Of course there’s always the chance that maybe Valon just got bored. But, youknow.

Anyway, it IS a romance on Yugioh, so we do have to very quickly drive a truck through it.

Man.

What are they DOING here?

It took me kind of a while to remember that Mai would be going where Joey would be living, which is most likely where Raphael dropped off Arthur Hawkins. But, if you don’t remember that fact, this is the most random thing ever.

Like you got this huge ass desert in the Califorizonado mesas, and then BOOM enter Rebecca Hawkins, just omnisciently lording over all of the West and just so ready to fight you.

Every girl interested in Yugi Muto has this thing where they’re normally pretty chill and then they just snap and get angry as hell.

PS she’s in a different outfit now, but I don’t feel like changing her font color. I’ve had some Photoshop.......incidents.......and I don’t think I have this plaid pattern anymore and I don't feel like making a new one yet.

I mean Valon’s got the green outline on his text, so I figure we’re good.

Also, Rebecca wears a tie clip?

This 12 year old girl wears a tie clip.

And like don't get me wrong, this was 2003-4, alt rock was big, and yes, we did have tiny Avril Lavigne ties at American Eagle. I will admit that I very much considered getting an Avril Lavigne tie at one point in my life, but didn’t want the commitment of needing to pair it with a skirt.

But either way, old man tie clips aren’t alt rock. The only thing that makes Rebecca’s outfit not exactly that alt-grunge Avril Lavigne look is that tie clip. They were SO close to making her look cool. Just so close.

Also the bifocals. But anyway...

So Valon was going to straight up ignore Rebecca, because he has a warped sense of morality and will not kill a 12 year old (but will kill a 17 year old). But, Mai did ask nicely.

Thankfully, because of Valons weird sense of morality, he did not pull out the Oricalchos. Instead he pulled out...a new mechanic!

OK.

Fine, whatever. I don’t go over cards in this show so I don’t have to even worry about this.

And Rebecca and Duke freakin lost, because Duke is never allowed to win. Rebecca may have won if Duke didn’t join this battle with his ass luck, just throwing that out there.

And Mai is like “wow, Valon is doing a really good job. He’s right, he IS amazing”

and she bolts.

And back on the tracks, we see another group of our protagonists sprawled on the desert floor.

REALLY lucky that this train track only has one operating train that is currently out of commission because you should not lie down on a track like this. Probably goes without saying that this is a great way to die. But youknow...the world is also ending so sure, why not? Getting killed by a train is probably more pleasant than the Leviathan.

And then, because we MUST talk about commuting, lets see Kaiba’s commute on this huge ass very normal plane.

I know.

That’s just a normal ass plane.

Even Kaiba needs to take a break youknow? And maybe since he hallucinated last time he drove a plane he decided to just...not drive one for a while. Probably a good move.

On the way, we get to see Seto’s form of parental advice. It was weird.

Like in the actual dialogue of the show Seto is just SO CLOSE to giving good advice and then just slips in these chestnuts where it’s like...well that’s gonna be like 12 years of therapy for Mokuba in the future Seto, thanks for that.

Also lets welcome back Seto’s dueling jacket. Been a while, big sleeves.

Also, the Aurora Borealis has also hit the plane, which is very Twilight Zone of them.

...

Correct me if I’m wrong but Alister was in Dartz’ room during that convo with Mai.

like...just a few hours ago?

Was that a hologram of Alister in Dartz’ boardroom or did the animation team forget?

Oh Alister.

Also, I just want to point out that the same day Seto sent Roland out to fix his problems, was the same day that Kaiba got hella abducted, just a few hours later. Man, Roland. Turn around for like 2 minutes and Seto’s back into cards, they’re both abducted by cultists, and they’re both half-way across the world to California. It must be hard to be Roland.

Anyway, if you just got here this is a link to read the rest in chrono order. All four seasons.

Hope y’all are staying safe in this Pandemic time, goes without saying. Been a weird couple of weeks, but thankfully the internet is still here to help us all keep sanity.

35 notes · View notes

sealers100 · 4 years

Text

PART 2: A (brief) review of every Donald Sutherland movie (so far)

Wowee welcome back. Yes I’m still on this shit and I intend to finish it because this is probably the most fun I’ve had in quarantine apart from working night shift at a waffle house. (I wish I was kidding) I will admit this one might not be as long as the last post but I promised to deliver so here we go for part two.

Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors

I had way too much fun with this movie! The story was unique and entertaining with a creepy twist without being so scary I can’t sleep at night. It’s got not only Donald, but also Sir Christopher Lee AND Peter Cushing! Like you can’t get any more badass than that. The acting is pretty great and the music goes hard (there’s a whole segment about a musician and I’m nerding out). Donald is maybe 29 or 30 years old and its one of his earliest (his 4th) film credit and oh goodness his segment is just too much. This is definitely a must see for any Hammer Film fanatics or Sutherland fans, You’ll love it!

The Dirty Dozen

Talk about a throwback to my childhood. Again an old army movie I remember watching with my parents (however watching it again I probably shouldn’t have). The movie itself its great if your into things like Tora Tora Tora! and Kelly’s Heroes. Not a whole lot of Donald in it but what we do get it so worth it. For a “serious and professional” actor, he plays silly and weird soooooo well. I will admit this one isn't nearly as lighthearted as Donald’s scenes might make it seem. It’s an actual war movie with heavy emotions and lots of violence and is quite sad at the end (no spoilers don’t worry). It might not be one to make you cry but you can’t help feeling bad for his character. Personally I loved it but its a classic in my household so I’m a bit biased.

Start The Revolution Without Me

I quite literally choked on my coffee watching this one. Gene Wilder and Donald made a surprisingly hilarious pair and it worked so well!!! I already can’t get enough of Gene so of course this one is probably one of my all time favorite movies across the board. Basically its a switched at birth situation and takes place during the french revolution. I won’t give away too much but if you liked anything by Mel Brooks you’ll love this one. I really can’t say much without spoiling the funny bits but if you’re having a bad day, do what I did and curl up in your onesie with a bag of popcorn and let the laughter ensue.

Act of the Heart

(tw: self harm/suicide mention) Let me start out by telling you how hard it was fro me to find this damn movie and how ecstatic I was when I finally got to sit down and watch it. For anyone who doesn’t know me, my background is in vocal performance and I did a lot of work with the episcopal church in college as a soloist for churches, weddings, events and stuff so getting to see Donald as a CONCERT DIRECTOR just made my little heart explode. I was constantly geeking out at the musical parts and even got a bit of concert anxiety for the main character, Martha Hayes. She falls in love with him but of course he’s a priest (again) but this time he actually leaves the ministry for her. The movie itself is good (and the music gets my seal of approval as well) but there’s a quite a bit of triggering stuff so this one might be a bit difficult to watch for some. I will say some of these movies are quite hard to find and I had to scour the interwebs for them so if anyone wants a watch for anything on either of these lists, don’t be afraid to message me.

Little Murders

Okay so this one will be quite short because Donald is in it for a whole 10 minutes but he should have gotten a fucking oscar for it because I have never been so amazed and shocked by one of his roles as I was with this one. The movie is great if you’re into Elliot Gould (and his hair omg). But jesus Donald stole the ENTIRE MOVIE for that one brief scene. You can find clips of it on youtube just go watch it. Hell I’ll probably post it on my blog later. It’s honestly the best thing ever, and I want it played at my wedding.

Steelyard Blues

What is it with directors and casting Jane Fonda as a prostitute? I’ll never know but Donald probably had a hand in that decision because he’s the executive producer. The movie is not great by any means but its definitely not boring. Again something about him being silly and dumb he just does so well and its so jarring in this one how silly he can get. I quite enjoyed it actually and its a real change of pace for him because while I like his character, I don’t have a whole lot of sympathy for him like I did for character’s like Casanova. I mean really he doesn’t hold back in portraying Jesse Veldini as an absolute fucking moron but I think we’re supposed to laugh at his misfortunes because they genuinely are funny (I think I just like watching him suffer) And it’s really entertaining. Again, I think Donald could have easily had a career as comedic actor but it’s nice to see how easily he can switch moods.

S*P*Y*S*

Another Donald and Elliot movie and this one is pretty hilarious too. (I’m loving these funny feel good movies) The two of them are CIA spies who aren’t stupid but definitely got the short stick in their agreement with the Russians. The plot makes sense but the way it’s gone about doesn’t really click. The Dynamic between him and Elliot is always fantastic and fun to watch so it makes up for the lack of sense this movie makes. Sorry this one couldn’t be longer but there would be much to say without writing a synopsis and I’m too tired to do that for any of these.

Day of the Locust

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT! I mean jesus christ this movie was a horror show. The film itself is fine, its a great movie, but oH mY GoD!!!! Let me start by saying I didn’t watch the final scene with him in this movie because its fucking brutal and I just knew it wasn’t gonna be the kind of thing I’d needed to see. (Or anyone) Yeah I’d issue a few trigger warnings for this movie. OKAY so Donald’s character is named Homer Simpson (I’m not kidding) and my god I thought I had low self esteem, he’s literally the saddest most miserable and lonely character I think I’ve ever seen him play and he gets used by Faye Greener (Karen Black) who can go sit on a cactus for all I care, I hate that she’s the main character and the way she treats Donald is HORRIBLE AND I HATE IT. God this movie messed me up for a straight week afterward and I’m still not over it. He cries a lot in this one and just stooooooop please I can’t take it I know his character isn't accurate to the book its based on but it just makes me feel bad for him seeing Donald’s character slowly being destroyed by the toxic people around him icanttakeitanymoremovingon.

The Eagle Has Landed

I don’t know the first thing about the animosity between the Irish and the English all I know is that they don’t get along sometimes and Donald’s character this time is I think a NAzi SymPathizer?? I could be wrong but he does help them try to kidnap Winston Churchill (weird). There’s a strangely deep romance between him an a 19 year old girl (uh?) but it doesn’t really come to fruition. Overall it’s a hell of a spy movie and with fantastic performances from Robert Duvall (no I wasn’t able to recognize him) and Michael Caine. It’s a fun movie and Donald’s accent is of course, awful (just the way I like it) and steals the show yet again.

The Disappearance

Interesting fact, Celandine (the main character’s wife) is actually played by Donald’s real life wife, Francine Racette. So it makes for quite an interesting dynamic between the two characters that feels very realistic. This is a hitman movie that takes place in I think Montreal (hard to imagine a lot of Canadian hitmen) And has a surreal feeling about it through the whole movie. Again this was a difficult one to find at first and there is actually two version. One being 80 minutes and the other being 100min. I’m not sure why it was split like this but I’ve seen both versions and they aren’t missing anything they’re just structured differently. It does feel a bit weird watching love scenes knowing that she is is actual wife but it does feel very realistic. Overall the movie is pretty good if you want to see lots of him and his wife. Don’t worry I’m sure their relationship is a lot better than what’s portrayed in the film!

National Lampoon’s Animal House

If you don’t know the story of Donald and this film, here it is. He was originally offered 2% of the films earnings to be in it. Thinking it would be a flop, he refused and asked for his usual flat rate of 45,000. The film was a his and his 2% could have easily been upward of 1.2 million, and this was back in 1978. He later quoted this as one of his biggest regrets of his career. Overall his scenes are quite short but oh so funny. (This list is either very serious or very funny) I like to imagine he put a lot of himself into this role. I definitely had some professors like him in college.

Threshold

Come to think of it, I watched this one so long ago I think I forgot to put it on the last list I did. I was really surprised by how genuine this movie felt. Like everyone really put a lot into this movie but it didn’t get nearly the recognition it deserved. Its a medical drama so that probably why, but it’s got an adorably young Jeff Goldblum and I can’t help but love him and Donald in every scene they’re in together. They play off each other pretty well most of the time and I didn’t really see anything wrong with this film other than it might have been on the lower end of filming budgets but it wasn’t a bad movie. It deserved better.

Ordeal by Innocence

I wish I could say the same for this movie. On it’s own its an alright film. On it’s own the soundtrack is fine too. But when the put the two together It was jarring as hell. The acting and story were okay and could have been fine alone but the soundtrack really broke any chance this film had of being taken seriously. I would have loved to seen it just on it’s own. Donald’s character is for once a genuine kind of ass that I really don’t like but it’s Agatha Christie, all her characters are assholes. This film really had potential but it shot itself point blank in the foot with the music.

A Time to Kill

Jumping forward to the 90′s, this movie is a classic based on a John Grisham novel and wow did I get invested! Donald isn’t in the film a whole lot but he does feel like an integral part of the plot and I really enjoyed him and Matthew Mcconaughey on screen together. Along with Samuel L. Jackson and Sandra Bullock. This movie is just fantastic and I normally don't like court dramas. Now what’s also interesting that not only is Donald in this one but so is Keifer. Sadly these two don’t share any scenes together and I don’t think they really got to work on set together except maybe once. Also Keifer’s character is a horrible racist. If anyone gets in your face about confederate flags being “heritage, not hate” show them this movie, Kiefer will take care of that one..

Space Cowboys

And last but not least, possibly my favorite one on this list. Everyone in this movie has the best film dynamic!! It’s funny, it’s endearing, and even kinda sad at times. The whole film feels genuine between all the lead characters, especially with them al being easily over the age of 65. As for Donald, He’s a smooth talking, dirty old man who hits on anything that moves but I’m sorry it just cracks me up. I don’t think this one should be taken too seriously but I just can’t help but fall in love with this movie. Cowboys, Space, Clint Eastwood and Tommy Lee Jones mean-mugging while Donald laughs and chases after women just makes my day.

Okay this one might have been a good bit longer than the last one so the reviews had to be a bit shorter this time. I would do some research for a lot fo the more serious film on these two lists just because I don’t have the time to issue trigger warnings for every film. I may put out a part three, at least I’m going to try to but I’m working 12 hour days lately so I don’t have as much time to watch stuff as I used to but I’m sure some of your guys do. If you’re having trouble finding a film don’t be afraid to let me know and I’ll do my best to hook you up with some *quality* content. I know I’m having a hell of a hard time finding his older credits and the movie Blood Relatives (at least a version in english) Let me know what you guys think, if you agree or disagree with my opinions. Have fun watching!

#Donald Sutherland #still not tagging every movie #I may end up with a dedicated side blog one day who knows #movies #film

5 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years

Text

lmao mh has been over for 5 entire years (w/ me watching along for like 4.5 years before that) but again still activating Pettiness watching along w/ the livestreams coz tim’s mentioned multiple times how anytime they released an entry where like, someone didn’t have to run away from a Close Encounter with someone shooting or standing there menacingly at them or there wasn’t some absolute bombshell Lore Revelation / plot twist, people could get mad about it...........like man even back then i was Mad At everyone complaining about this every time like, listen, if every single time there’s some Suspense where Something Might Happen, the big scary thing happens, it’s not so much [what’s gonna happen] tension anymore just as much as [waiting on the Impending Scare] tension, which definitely works, it just isn’t = the former kind of Suspense and it sure would be kind of much if every time someone points a camera down a hallway we see someone ducking around the corner or something. like first of all it’s called pacing, tension stops being tension if it’s absolutely constant, and if comedy Or horror gets predictable and routine then it stops being effective. handshake emoji with getting 9_9 at everyone who was getting 9_9 at “oh boy more Walking Through Woods footage -_-” in s2 lmfao like yes get over it maybe??? do you want 3 murders and 5 T.O. appearances and 19 [what was that] noises in the distance sprinkled evenly throughout every entry. for god’s sake. sorry if some Forestry Clips run a little long but i think we can all get over that. but no, watching along s2 with a pretty small <50 ppl total tumblr fanbase meant getting increasingly exasperated with ppl’s ~critique~ of Great More Woods, i Love filler /s..........like a decade back and i was fucking burdened with my stellar capacity for Media Analysis

anyways yeah it’s funny to hear they’d just ignore when everyone got mad about an entry being too ~uneventful~ cuz ppl would then enjoy the next one. like, yeah. even back then having to wait a while (especially in s3 when shit got like 20 min long and more cinematic than ever as opposed to s2 when it was more weekly / every other week? like damn sorry your viewing experience included a minute of walking) i was waiting right along with everyone else and i enjoyed it just fine when every single entry didn’t unfailing end with an [oops run for my life] Moment. and i still think back on everyone’s shit takes like #god Smh.......... man hang on we were dealing with there being this unstoppable idea that all throughout the series Tta had been one uploader. almost forgot about that. unfiction was basically just the subreddit equivalent, i’d like to reiterate that b/c that place was useless. thanks for crowdsourcing some decoding bullshit, now stop Theorizing what an entry delay is about when everyone keeps saying “it’s because they had to scour ebay for a very specific discontinued american eagle outfitters hoodie, source: facebook posts about it”

#my top Mh Connections maintained are that i am twitter mutuals with scully and theo. oh and also tim lol. and occasionally we have [twitter #mutual]-ly actions amongst ourselves. everyone else it was like. this is ur 1st lesson in ''nobody likes being in a fandom'' + ''you have #Negative Je Ne Sais Quoi & by and large people won't be interested'' like i ponder what i'm doing wrong to Fit Into A Group & the surprise #culprit is the Same Surprise Culprit Every Time lmao #but then meanwhile it's also like damn *i* don't like some of *you*.....also Tough when the group of fans is so small Every1 Knows Every1...#the guy who a) i eventually realized was dating someone i Knew who lived in the same dorm as me & he was like yeah i've been to that dorm i #have probably seen you send a pic & i was like :| no picture of myself has ever been taken & b) 1 time i explained the Basic Physics behind #gif for him & he insisted it was still faked so that was like nail in the coffin You Annoy Me lmaoo......#ppl who had this Media Critique of the above & i was like. well hang on & they never wanna talk to me & clearly im not dying to talk to them #one guy who was fun & then he starts dropping peta style tweets......should i have seen it coming w/ his music prefs????#never rly Participated in the [skype group chat...lol 2011..] as there were ppl there i didnt rly interact with otherwise & also group chats #made me more nervous then than they seem to now. classic memory someone Invited me & i worked up the nerve to enter it & then couldn't think #of what to say / when to jump in & say it so instead i just inadvertently lurked on them talking about me all ''well i invited them but ig #they didn't wanna partake :/'' like well alright i could just Pretend to show up later but also i could just go back to my own corner #the ''but they also met me'' energy but it's constantly ''they may not have vibed with me but i also did not vibe with them'' sort of ig idk #cutting my teeth on all Those kinds of experiences means i'm only totally appreciative i've got the 2 of you guys to Regularly Interact with #& to be totally chill & comfortable doing so & we get to have fun........like damn that's valuable & Where It's At lmfao. rip to Teens Me...#out there thinking it's On Me to try to like everyone & also get them to Like Me; then being like wait no first of all...i don't like every1 #second of all. let's just say [do they.....you know (makes ''relate to winston billions??'' gesture)]#all my life i've been bravely (having some freaking Sense when it comes to media analysis i guess idk apparently the bar's always v low)

9 notes · View notes

docholligay · 5 years

Text

The Mind of an Eagle, The Heart of a Dove: Part 2 (of 2)

Hello friends! Once again, thanks to the wonderful @katrani for allowing me to write this fic! I hope you enjoy, if you are looking for soft gay birds, I promise they are at the end. 2,000 words. Part one is here.

Mercy did not feel herself bent to anger. She felt it, as did all people, but it did not rule her as it did some, and she was quick to convert it into action, to make love out of pain and irritation. Anger had driven her to to cities destroyed in the Omnic crisis, to take her surgical training and her merits to dig children out of the rubble, to do something better than beg for money from millionaires at balls and events, as many of her contemporaries had done. It was another’s anger that had put the money in her hand anyhow, and it was anger that had allowed Mercy to ignore where it might have come from.

Anger had led to healing, had led to good, and Mercy had always been careful to ensure that anger only did that.

But we are imperfect creatures, even at our best, and Mercy burned with a selfish anger now, one that she could not convert into any action but sleeping with her back turned to Pharah. Not sleeping. Burning. Pharah did not press her, but Mercy could feel the weight of her confusion, how a woman so smart and so collected did not possibly know how why her wife was ignoring her, sniping at her.

And yet, Mercy’s heart was hard, and could not be moved, and she said nothing when Pharah reached out and touched her shoulder in the night.

Her coffee station had been arranged, when she came down that morning, coffee already brewed on the timer Mercy always forgot to set, her favorite travel mug washed clean and put next to the coffeemaker. There was a pastry wrapped neatly in waxed paper, that Pharah must have got on her run that morning.

Mercy felt a brief pang, and pushed it aside. She poured the coffee into her mug and clicked the lid on quickly, hoping she would not see Pharah even as she heard her come down the stairs from her shower. She grabbed the pastry and shoved it into her bag, hair falling out of her bun as if protesting.

She walked out of the kitchen and toward the door, and heard only a brief “Ange--” as she slammed the door behind her, walking down the street quickly, hoping Pharah would not be of a mind to follow her.

Mercy did not understand how people kept their hearts hard. Hers had always tended to softness, and even in her rage her mind still turned to the gentle thoughtfulness of her coffee and her pastry, how Pharah fussed over the way she missed meals and didn’t sleep. How Pharah loved her and cared for her.

But if she loved Mercy, and cared for her, she would not have done what she did. She would have been the smarter, more collected, reasonable woman she was. Pharah’s steadiness was not a negative, not to Mercy. She had enough of unsteadiness in her life, and Pharah was her safe harbor, her shelter, after so much.

And she had been so careless.

The park near their apartment called to her, a place so close to home but holding within it the hope that she could disappear into the lush green, and she wandered into it. Even as she sat on the bench, the memory of it all ran through her mind.

The cluster of omnics. The sounds of the shooting. Tracer, blinking off to the right, following after something and breaking formation. The realization, as she heard the thundering of the landing, that what she was following after was Pharah, in the middle of the omnic crowd. It was so stupid, so daring, the kind of thing that Mercy had heard her teased about from old Army buddies but, it seemed, she had quite grown out of.

They had surrounded her. The seconds between when Pharah landed, the glint from the shots illuminating the face Mercy so loved, and where Tracer’s first pulse shot hit one of the omnics in the back, seemed an entire lifetime.

A lifetime she had spent alone, people flitting in and out of it.

Where could she go? She picked at the edges of the pastry Pharah had brought her, light and flaky and filled with sweet cream. She knew which bakery it was, just down the road from their house, the one Mercy called dangerous, the one they often swept into on their mornings together.

Her finger broke through the crisp flakiness of the pastry, and the soft cream began to leak out. Mercy understood.

Her heart had been hard because it was tender, because the woman who held her heart as tenderly as a pastry box nestled that pastry had been in danger, had put herself in danger, and Mercy could defend herself with nothing but that useless anger, the anger that did not build or heal but only shut out and destroyed.

She sighed as she raised the sweetness of the pastry to her lips. This was not the sort of person she wanted to be. Mercy was not bent to anger, and if this anger could not serve her, then it had to go, it had to be allowed to be hurt and fear and all those much harder emotions.

Where could she go? She asked herself again, knowing that the answer was the thing she had searched for since she was thirteen, that Pharah had finally delivered into her hands.

Home.

__________

Mercy sat on the couch, waiting. Waiting and rubbing her hands together, wondering how best to apologize, wondering how best to explain her fear and her love, and how they could not be separated, however she tried. How she understood that Pharah was a soldier, with a soldier’s duties and a soldier’s calling, but Mercy was not a soldier, no matter how many battlefields she had stood upon.

It had only been a few hours since Mercy herself had left the house. Pharah was, Mercy was sure, at the Overwatch office. There would need to be a release written about the encounter, there would be paperwork that needed to be filed, and she would never allow Tracer to handle all of it. At least not since she’d found a month’s worth of reports shoved into the file cabinet with a date, not in alphabetical order, or any sort of order Pharah could divine.

And so there was no reason for Mercy to be waiting on the living room couch like some sort of Swiss spaniel. She could do a load of laundry. She could walk just down the street to the market and do some of the shopping. She could badly prepare a meal for Pharah, for when she came home from a long day at work.

But she did none of those things. She simply sat on the couch, looking to the door, trying to feign some sort of interest in her book, this poor book that had the same paragraph read over and over as Mercy had struggled to make anything of her emotions over the past day.

It should have been hours. Pharah had so much to do, and the office was a twenty minute walk from their home, and so there was no reason to imagine that Pharah would come through the door until the sun began to hang low.

And yet, the lock turned in the door.

Mercy felt her heart leap into her throat, the anger, the fear, but most of all the love, as Pharah walked in the door. Pharah hung up her keys, as she did every night, and her jacket by the door. She slipped off her shoes, tucked them neatly into the shelf she’d built, and put on her slippers. Mercy watched as Pharah straightened Mercy’s shoes on the shelf next to hers, and, with a moment of realization, looked back to the living room, where Mercy sat.

“Angela.”

The three syllables of her name were like a song in Pharah’s mouth.

“Fareeha,” she sang back the three syllables that continued the song of their love, “I was not meaning to...I do not hate you.” She pulled the afghan from the back of the couch into her lap, though the day was not particularly cold, and looked down into the whirls and dots of their rug. “It was...I am needing you to understand...I…”

Pharah walked with her clipped and confident stride into the living room, and knelt in front of her, gently holding Mercy’s chin so her eyes would meet Pharah’s.

Her wife was known for being direct, and precise, and commanding, but when Mercy looked in her eyes, she saw all the softness and the gentleness of someone who had simply decided to be the hawk to save every dove she encountered.

“I know. Tracer crashed when she was thirteen.” Pharah said it as if it were a simple fact that laid out the entirety of the issue between them, and nodded.

Mercy’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at Pharah. “I think I am not understanding.”

Pharah nodded, and sighed. “I--”

“Come,” Mercy pulled her hand, “up here.”

Pharah settled herself into the couch, but clasped both of Mercy’s hands in hers. “I mean to say, you were angry, because you love me. I made you fear that you would lose me.”

Mercy nodded quietly, breathlessly, wanting to tell her about every nightmare she had where she could not save a member of the team, and how much worse the dreams were when it was Pharah. How it would follow her, as sure as her shadow, the entire day.

But she found herself unable to speak, and so simply nodded.

Pharah swallowed and sighed, rolling back her shoulders, readying to accept her own rebuke. “I was careless. I was showboating. The situation did not require that maneuver. I simply assumed I would not fail. You have every right to be angry with me.”

“Your life does not only belong to you.” Mercy had not meant to say it, but as soon as it left her mouth, she knew it was what she had been wanting to say all along. “You are so much to me, Fareeha.”

Pharah kissed her cheek. “I apologize, my Angela.”

“No,” Mercy shook her head, “You have to hear this. I do not want to be saying this, but you have to hear.” She gathered her strength. “Every time you put on the suit, I am afraid. Every time we go into battle, I am afraid. Being afraid, is worth what you are doing for the world. I will fight for this world, and I will be afraid. But you should know, that I am afraid.”

Pharah looked at her for a moment, and touched at Mercy’s ring on her hand, twisting it back and forth a moment. “I should be more responsible, with things I treasure. I was not careful with your feelings. I was not careful with myself.”

“I love you.”

Pharah chuckled.

“That is what you think of my love?” Mercy slapped her on the shoulder. “Fareeha--”

“No, no,” she held up her hand, “I am laughing because what I am going to say is so...cheesy. Tracer would laugh at me. But I feel it.” She drew her forehead to Mercy’s. “You are my home. I will protect my home, and sometimes to protect something is to maintain it, and to keep it safe, and not always to go on the offensive. I cannot protect you if I am not there. It is good to remind me of this.”

They laid back together against the soft, yielding cushions of the couch, the one Mercy had liked so much when they’d found it, the first piece of furniture they’d bought for this, the home they had bought together.

Pharah kissed her hand. “It is Tracer’s job to be stupid, and not mine.”

Mercy laughed. “I’m telling her you said that.”

“Good, then she will tell you an overlong story about her personal history and not me. You can call me when she finishes.”

They laughed together, intertwined in that sweet, warm apartment in a middling part of London, on a grey and cloudy day, while the world turned and trembled for all the changes, and they were home.

30 notes · View notes

youngster-monster · 5 years

Text

day twenty-six // Delight

"Hey, Raze, c'mere, just a sec."

Razel stops on his way to his ship, makes a quick turn to get to Cayde instead.

He's sitting on a pile of crates high enough his feet aren't touching the ground. The one right next to him is open, revealing a mess of gun mods packed together with little to no organization. Cayde is riffling through them, setting some apart for himself. After a minute he scrawls B44 on the side of the box and slaps the lid back on.

"Bunch of Fireteams got back from pilfering my caches at the said time," he tells Razel while opening another crate, this one full of heavy ammo clips. "'Course they left me all the organizing work."

"Didn't know you were emptying your stashes. I'd have gone too otherwise," Razel says with some disappointment. Looting Cayde's caches is one of his greatest pleasures in life. Guy's a bit of a hoarder.

"I ain't, just looking for something, forgot where I stashed it."

Razel steps closer, peers into a box marked Shx. It's full of guns. Just... a jumbled pile of guns. Sidearms, mostly. "Need me to carry those?" He asks, kicking the box lightly.

"Nah- well, not right now. Maybe later."

"Just wanted to talk then?"

That gets Cayde out of his inventory. He blinks, straightens up, shakes his head as if just remembering something. He jumps off the pile.

"Right!" He says, "I found something for you."

Nothing gets Razel's attention faster than the promise of free stuff. He leans in eagerly as Cayde reaches behind the pile of crates, unearthing a long rectangular case. The kind you put weapon in. Or a weirdly-shaped cello. He puts it down, takes a step back.

"Go on," Cayde says, gesturing toward the case. "Open it."

He doesn't have to tell him twice. Razel all but throws himself at the case and opens the two clasps in one quick movement. The case opens to reveal a sword.

"It's called The Talon," Cayde tells him. "It's a quick sword, no weight to it at all, but it has one hell of a bite to it. Thought you might be interested."

Going by the soft "holy shit" that escapes him, Cayde is pretty sure he's happy about the gift. He better be: it's a beautiful exotic sword, and getting his hand on it was a hell and a half. Mostly because he doesn't keep an exact inventory of his stash-stuff, and he had to sent Guardians to five of them before he got it right.

Razel takes it with a bright, bright grin forming on his face. The sword is beautiful, shaped like the flight feather of a bird of prey. An eagle, he thinks, to match the copper color of the blade. The design looks wholly impractical, especially with the real feathers hanging from the pommel, but he knows from experience that it's wickedly sharp.

He might not be as much of a sword aficionado as Razel but there isn't a single weapon in his stashes he hasn't used himself at one point or another.

Razel runs his hand along the edge, testing it's sharpness. It's an unnerving habit of his, even though he cut is healed almost immediately, leaving nothing but a few drops of blood behind. Anyway Cayde can hardly lecture him on it when he's himself so prone to recklessly endangering himself. He still wants to though. Funny how those things happen.

The thought is all but knocked out of his head when Razel drops the sword back in its case and throws himself at him instead. Cayde opens his arms to catch him, returning the hug easily as Razel loops his arms around his neck.

"Thank you thank you thank you-"

He'd know Razel is grinning even if he hadn't seen the delighted expression on his face, just by the tone of his voice. Cayde squeezes just a little tighter. The bubbly feeling in his chest turns into a low rumble of overheated engine, the vents on the side of his neck opening to get more cold air in. Blushing is an affliction to Exos: it's impossible to cover the sound, like an old laptop trying to run a video game in full HD.

Cayde hides his face in the crook of Razel's neck and stays there as he cools down, breathing in his scent – sweat and embers and something entirely Razel. Everyday he thanks his lucky star Razel is as much of a hugger as him. Even if the number of people laughing at him for hugging his boyfriend for ten whole minutes keeps rising.

"You're my favorite," he breathes against Razel's skin, a smile in his voice. "Don't tell anyone."

Razel turns his head to press a kiss against the side of his face, through the hood, and says, "Too late for that, I think. You gave me an exotic sword. Everybody knows. And if they don't I'm gonna tell 'em, because you gave me an exotic sword."

"Fair point."

He can't say he minds.

#writing #destiny 2 #LGBT Destiny Month #cayde-6 #my ocs #razel #sap is all that's keeping me alive while i'm working #now i understand what marx meant about seizing the means of production

10 notes · View notes

twracehorse · 5 years

Text

Cringing at my own videos

Training Videos Edition!

I got bored, needed motivation to start editing, went back to take a look at my older videos, and now I judge and cringe at them because that’s a given at this stage

Under the cut to keep your dash shorter :3

Determined Horse Training, the title I came up with to be a little unique. I obviously couldn’t use something akin to Northena’s “Training Is Fun...Right?” and I wanted to give it a proper title knowing this would be a series of videos. I thought, and thought, and came up with the title after thinking of Undertale and how you are filled with determination in the game. “I am filled with determination to train these horses!” is what I thought and so the title of the series became that!

I use // as a way to separate different topics I’m talking about

Brave Rebel- First off...the thumbnail. He was originally themed sort of after Nathan Drake from Uncharted, since I was into that series at the time. So the map was, you know, for the treasure hunting. But I didn’t want to stretch the map to fit and somehow decided that a brown background was a good idea?? // AH THE CLOTHES! THE NECK!! AHHH GATORADE OCEAN BLEHH. // Oh yeah I have a spelling error in the video “Let’s go defeat this traning day!”. // Been training with Sage from the start of the series. I wonder how many fails of their’s I’ve caught XD // Ah the rocks, the rocks that I caught Sage stumbling out of in a later training video. // Let’s not forget the double mouse thing going on that makes its appearance in many videos before I figured out to click off of the web pages (which had a music playlist going while training). // Omg there’s someone with the club name The Babies standing nearby when I turn in the final race. // Low-key still love this horse. He was my first true Soul Steed before we were designated to our starter. I don’t take him out much, the difference in horse animations from new to old is getting bigger and for dynamic photos, it just doesn’t look good ( @~@)

Cool Hero- The horse based off of Markiplier back when he had red hair. I also uploaded the video on his birthday! // The song choice....I mean it fits the theme, otherwise I’d pick a better song. // The mini references I’m still low-key proud of. // There’s quite the amount of gliding pons in this video and some horror texture pons. // I obviously had to max Markimoo at the observatory! // I also mimicked Mark’s outros where an image is boomeranging. It took a couple tries with my friend in the background, but it was worth it!

Violet Mystery- I hope when I introduced her as “The winner of the Jorvik Wild horse competition” I mean, she was the first coat to be picked. Back when it was only one horse coat is being made. They added the top two coats afterwards. // Oh yeah the character’s whole head would move to the side to keep eye contact with the camera. // It’s so weird to think that I caught a bit of footage of Swifty just before meeting her. Then again I remember NOT editing this training video until months later and uploaded it in September. Mind you that I got Cool Hero and Violet Mystery at the same time and Cool Hero’s video was out in June...oops. // Ironic that I have the pandoric cracks around when the horse is based off them. // People running up from the riding arena, ah the fog glitch that would happen when you left your horse in the riding area, ran all the way to the dino valley elevator, took it, and there was no fog in the valley!

Megalove- Ah the first Undertale horse! I mean technically still the only Undertale themed horse I have, but I do have others planned. Haven’t gotten them yet and some plans changed. // The thumbnail....why did I make the stickers super tiny?? // Finally changed Elsa’s hairstyle to the ponytail I still wear to this day. We need updated ponytails with side bangs! I know we have the awesome braided ponytail in Mistfall, but there’s too much forehead! // Also the first training footage with the meet up....was 4 hours long. This was back when I recorded all stages of training and went through the footage in real time....I’m glad I changed strategy. // Can’t remember if crashing into a jump and the jump of the music timed at the same point was on purpose or if it was editing magic. // Oof cringing that I put comic sans as Sans “talking” in the video nnngghhhhh! // Ah my old club name Royal Ambassadors. I gave that club over to my side account Chiara Monsterhope for obvious reasons. // Annoying Dog in the credits, I still love that

Lucky Hero- I’m still proud that I came up with his nickname Vien short of Vienna where the famous riding school is. He, along with Brave Rebel, are my top horses. Please get an update eventually boys! // Finally Mac users had clear water! I was so happy over this you do not understand XD // Warriors by Imagine Dragons fits this horse, but quite a pain when I got Dark Warrior and didn’t want repeating songs. // Oh yeah early on, the Lipizzaners had a weird reflective tail glitch going on. // Vien was the first horse of mine that I got the day of release, bright and early in the morning! // I love how in the face of danger, an approaching bull dozer, I just stare at it. It wasn’t even a “oh no I should get out of the way” and instead was “huh that’s a thing”. // ALLY CHUM! I forgot that was a nickname to good friend!

Grey Ghost- OH BOY HERE WE GO!! Honestly my favorite training video. It was so much fun to edit with the music and the Halloween stickers hidden around the screen! Despite waking up at 5am to train for that aesthetic™. // Okay but that mushroom with the dark green sign did legit give me a spook. My body froze for a second and then I remembered that Slenderman doesn’t exist in Star Stable XD. // Ngl two of the stickers are hard to see cause of their surroundings. // GALLOPER THOMPSON MY MAN! Honestly I waited till midnight for him to be in Goldenleaf forest, just to see what would happen if you were racing and he caught you. By the gods of editing magic, the song was at a good point that fits perfectly with that scene. // For the scarecrow race I did actually take two different takes. I failed the first one and when I was editing I noticed that the two runs looked similar. So I put the first part of run 1 and cut before I failed and then put the remaining of the race with run 2. Looks almost seamless!

Silent Promise- My favorite mare in my stable! She ends up being my AoT cosplay photo horse...until I get the actual themed horse XP. // Shadows were a little glitchy at first. // Why am I using Rud instead of Rude. Like I know why cause that’s how we got around the filter, but I didn’t need to put it like that in the video. It’s like back in my WolfQuest days where I learned to use Cuz as a short version of Cause and it bled into my text vocab. // The witch bombs...I wanted to make it dramatic, but in hindsight it’s just tasteless really. Also to note that the sound which was fine before uploading, got more rough once it was on YouTube

Small Potential- Real cringe theme here, Hetalia. It was fun while watching and all that, but since then I’ve seen some well done anime! Growth! // I love the nickname Finny. Not too sure if I want to keep this pony or not, sadly. // The Christmas remix song is because I had no other ideas XD

Brave Eagle- Oh this is another slight cringe theme. Even more cringe is the fact that I had to re-upload this training video since it got blocked all over the world! due to the Hamilton musical songs. So I....had to layer over the songs with other songs....it’s a whole mess and was a whole pain since I had to re-edit the sound effects. // I’m proud of the thumbnail though....that’s it

Winter Dust- Why did I make the “there’s a new app with these foals you can train” with the dramatic music? // I think because I had less levels to train, I tried filling that space with “cool looking shots”. // Ah, yes, my How To Get Over A Jump wikipedia step by step

Hollow Phantom- Had to bring a creepy vibe even though it was February. So he’s like a Halloween not Halloween horse. // Can you believe that I found the main song from a Haikyuu!! crack video? XD. // That zoom on the pony surrounded by magic shires was weird. We’re saying “SO TINY” but the clip was so short it was done and over without much sense. // Mmm that slight irritation that the music and clip didn’t match with the drop. // Tried to blend the music together with itself....it’s obvious. // Of course had to max the Galloper horse where I first met the phantom himself

North Guardian- I wanna talk about the thumbnail....that background...is literally just the horse’s hindquarters. I wanted something mossy since the horse is sort of based off of Pelagia from Shadow of the Colossus. I couldn’t find good enough backgrounds, so I used the horse itself. // Again that urge to want to make the clip and music match but ahhh

Lucky Lucky- Still wish I could name this horse Gold Luck or something. // I think one of the camera turns during a race was just to show off the rainbow nearby. // Ahh! back when we could say “demon” in the chat. // Hmm instead of letting the clip run, I could’ve just cut to Reed calling the askew fence “a disgrace”. // Text was onscreen for just too long. // Trying to do the riding arena jumps with a good camera angle. But at that point, the camera kept moving and wouldn’t hold still. I’m glad it’s better now. Maybe I’ll try it again with a future horse. // Huh, forgot to add sound effects when I hit something on the last race

Silent Surprise- Cause I had to let the people know that I bought the horse after watching the Belmont. // AH STILL THE NECK! // 2 minutes in and we haven’t even gotten to the actual training yet. // Another day, another SSO glitch, this time it’s shadow rocks. // Oop missed a sound effect

Hot Spot- THE MUSTACHE! // I forgot I put a filter over the video to give it an old timey look. I should do more like that if it’s in theme. // Of course I had to have The Wanted be playing with this song since it’s old west sounding. // What was the purpose of editing the scarecrow race like that? XD. // Random running clip. // Walking the whole bobcat race would be nice if I didn’t keep moving the camera

Pumpkin Candy- As much as I love my Halloween horses, this training video isn’t up to the standards that the first Halloween training video set up. It’s still got Halloween themed music, it’s still got stickers hidden in the video, but it doesn’t feel the same. // Having text be their default instead of making them the same agh. // The spooky filter I overlayed the clips with changes at times. Would be nice if it stayed consistent

Dragon Dawn- Hmm now that I have more songs to choose from (getting into another artist as much as I did with The Wanted), I would have another song playing to fit the horse better. Maybe Euphoria or Mikrokosmos. Oh well those will be for future horses eventually! // Didn’t drop with the music...disappointed

Thunder Spirit- The horse that trains through three months. You can easily tell by the Valentine race, the rainbows of March, and April Fools. // Man I really need to work on making the text not be so BIG. // The first rainbow race had lots of sound effects. After that one I was just like “yeah not doing that again”

Sun Chaser- Eh the slowed down music is not the best idea. But I think it was also an intro to a remix of the song. So it was only so long and I had a bit to say for the intro of the horse. // The second clip of the mysterious Icelandic cryptid you can’t see them once it zooms in....annoying. // Too much of a slow build up with another cryptid spotting. // Also using the same sound but slower after just using it...smooth (not). // You know the very last clip of the horse as he’s turning around on the beach? Yeah that’s the exact moment I did the intro for the horse XD

Dragon Warrior- The contrast between me and Sage’s bantering vs the sadder song (I found the song because of a Zeno AMV) well it’s kinda weird having laughs and then sad melody. // YouTube again ruins the quality of the mic as it sounds fuzzier than it was pre-uploaded. // Low-key recording voices was fun aside from having to make sure the clips matched the voices and clicking of the mouse. // I’m still annoyed I couldn’t find the perfect snoring sound effect when Sage’s Connemara is sleeping and starts gliding away

Smoke Mirror- A little too much of a pause between text in the intro. // I love how I’m wearing a Halloween shirt because no other shirt matched with the blue of the hat except for the dress it came with THAT I GOT RID OF!

Obsidian Mystery- I love the thumbnail for her training video. It’s so spooky and cool! Favorite thumbnail of the entire series right there. // Ironic that with the three Halloween horses I’ve had. The two with the upbeat music are the ones where Galloper was present that year. The one where Galloper was missing that October, the music was softer, generic Halloween music. Not intentional, but it works. Though the first Halloween training video still gets the trick-or-treats because it has nostalgic music. // Some text isn’t easily visible

Dark Warrior- The horse I wish I could name Secret Warrior cause that would make SO MUCH MORE SENSE than Dark Warrior, but here we are. // Since Warriors by Imagine Dragons was in a previous training video, I had to search for another song to fit the horse. I literally went through those anime character theme song videos to find one! That was a terrible jump cut of the song

Ember Flame- Coming Soon

#Star Stable #Star Stable Online #SSO

2 notes · View notes

prohaus · 5 years

Text

30+

A challenge that had been dead a long time ago

and I don’t have a diverse playlist. But here we go!

1. A song you like with a color in the title Black Balloons Reprise – Flying Lotus, Denzel Curry

My favourite performance from Curry and production from Lotus. “Life is the ugliest bitch I ever messed with But she quick to down that nut back like Nesquik”

2. A song you like with a number in the title A Tale of 2 Citiez – J. Cole

“Anybody is a killer, all you gotta do is push 'em to the limits”. Now give me the watch.

3. A song that reminds you of summertime Sangria Wine – Pharrell Williams, Camilla Cabello

Cmon, it’s Pharell. “Let's float around like the fruit at the top”

4. A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about Somebody Else – VERITE

“I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone and leaving with somebody else”

5. A song that needs to be played LOUD m.A.A.d city – Kendrick Lama, MC Eiht

“This is not a rap on how I'm slingin' crack or move cocaine”. YAWK YAWK YAWK YAWK

6. A song that makes you want to dance Man Don’t Dance – Big Shaq

Dance, no. Rambling while also pointing my finger in the air, yes.

7. A song to drive to Easy – Mac Ayres

Probably a bad idea, since im get lost in music a lot, one of the reasons why I got my first accident because I was freestyling while I was riding my bike.

“I can say that loving you is easy. I don't need to prove a single thing”

8. A song about drugs or alcohol Swimming Pools – Kendrick Lamar

Well, there is a lot…

“I am your conscience, if you do not hear me. Then you will be history, Kendrick. I know that you're nauseous right now”

9. A song that makes you happy Scars to Your Beautiful – Alessia Cara

“But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark. You should know you're beautiful just the way you are”

Me beautiful :3

10. A song that makes you sad See You Again – Tyler, The Creator, Kali Uchis

“I can only see your face when I close my eyes. Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever?”

11. A song that you never get tired of Wesley’s Theory – Kendrick Lamar

I never get tired of this opening track, it’s really cool for me. Hell, I never get tired playing this album (TPAB) from front to back no skip.

“At first, I did love you. But now I just wanna fuck. Late nights thinkin' of you. Until I get my nut”

12. A song from your preteen years Dangdut Is The Music of My Country – Project Pop

The first record that I (with my parents) bought wkwk.

“Semua orang macam diciptakan. Cakep atau jelek semua punya perasaan”

13. One of your favorite 70’s songs Hotel California – Eagles

“Welcome to the Hotel California. Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place). Such a lovely face”

14. A song that you would be loved played at your wedding Off Deez – JID, J. Cole

“Get off my dick, get off my dick. 40 my hip, loadin' my clip. Cannabis, cannabis, roll up my spliff”

Just kidding, it’s probably:

Say My Name – NIKI

“Soon as we get into the room. I know just what you like, just what to do”

15. A song that is a cover by another artist Take On Me – Weezer

Cmon it’s “take on me”.

16. One of your favorite classical songs Ain’t That A Kick In The Head – Dean Martin

Thanks Fallout New Vegas.

“The room was completely black. I hugged her and she hugged back”

17. A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke Funky Sundays - AdhesiveWombat

18. A song from the year that you were born Changes – Tupac Shakur, Talent

A posthumous release by the classic legend.

“First ship 'em dope and let 'em deal to brothers. Give 'em guns, step back, watch 'em kill each other. "It's time to fight back," that's what Huey said. Two shots in the dark, now Huey's dead. I got love for my brother. But we can never go nowhere unless we share with each other”

19. A song that makes you think about life Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst – Kendrick Lamar

From the beats to the lyrics, it’s just beautiful. “Just promise me you'll tell this story when you make it big. And if I die before your album drop, I hope …”

20. A song that has many meanings to you What Can We Do – Anderson .Paak, Nate Dogg

Probably one of the coolest production by Paak. But sure hell, this song makes me cry. Thanks Nate Dogg. “It's the rap singer, the hook master”

21. A favorite song with a person’s name in the title CLOUT COBAIN – Denzel Curry

Another side of Mr. Curry. “I just wanna feel myself, you want me to kill myself. Man, I been on my own, Lord, I'ma need some help”

22. A song that moves you forward Till I Collapse – Eminem, Nate Dogg

Since high school, this is my jam whenever I feel down, hell even when I was brokenhearted. “You bizzles forgot, Slizzle does not give a fuck”

23. A song that you think everybody should listen to u – Kendrick Lamar

Just listen. No Skip.

“Loving you is complicated, loving you is complicated. I place blame on you still, place shame on you still. Feel like you ain't shit, feel like you don't feel”

24. A song by a band you wish was still together So Fresh, So Clean – OutKast

This is not a band, but I hope they still make stuff together. “Those huge baby eyes, get to runnin' off at they mouth. And tellin' me everything that's on your nasty mind”

25. A song by an artist no longer living 2009 – Mac Miller

…

“And sometimes, sometimes I wish I took a simpler route. Instead of havin' demons that's as big as my house, mhmm”

26. A song that makes you want to fall in love Vintage – NIKI

My favourite from Ms. Zefanya. “Wait a minute, my head's a mess. Please don't tell me you like my dress. Why am I wishin' we were wearing less?”

27. A song that breaks your heart Let Her Go - 6LACK

“It's a shame, how could I be runnin' games?. After all the trials, after everythin'. Wedding ring, I can change your last name. But I can't let 'em get my baby outta pain”

28. A song by an artist with a voice that you love G.O.M.D – J. Cole (Live Version)

I am part of the people that overrate Mr. Cole…

“So every day I thank the man upstairs. That I ain't you and you ain't me. Get off my dick, whoa”

29. A song that you remember from your childhood Not Afraid – Eminem

It’s one of the first hip-hop song that I know, and from that day I know Marshall is on of the G.O.A.T, despite this is not his best record.

“Forget the Earth, he's got the urge to pull his dick from the dirt. And fuck the whole universe”

30. A song that reminds you of yourself RICKY – Denzel Curry

A song about family, that without their advice and support, I am nothing. “My daddy said, "Trust no man but your brothers. And never leave your day ones in the gutter". My daddy said, "Treat young girls like your mother". My mama said, "Trust no ho, use a rubber"

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

Nice nice, only 5 out of 30 are from K-Dot.

Here:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1UqXxXH4qWkgXc2KggPirv

3 notes · View notes

insomniac-arrest · 6 years

Text

Things that Keep me up at Night

Genre: sci-fi, period piece, wlw

Words: 6k

Summary: A runaway and an anxiety-ridden young housewife try to build a bomb shelter in her backward in the 1950s. Digging in the woods soon turns to trouble as they find something unusual buried in the earth.

OR: the bomb, the bombshell, and the box in the woods.

Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part lV

WordPress ⭐Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon

PART I

“Are you available?” She said it like she said all words: like she was trying to flatiron them down with tongue and smooth out the edges. To round her ‘o’s and clip her ‘r’s into something with legs instead of wings.

She spoke like she dressed: neatly.

I was lying on a bench with my face turned up to the sun, I process the question slowly and frown delicately up at the young woman. She could have only been around 5’1, curled golden hair and a pink sundress that flared around her hips.

She looked like a typical woman that wouldn’t approach me. I sit up languidly in place and look around, several other people like me mull around the chain-link fence of Downing Street.

I look back to her, “sure am.” I say lowly, I can tell by her watch and her heels, that she had cash. I could tell by her cat-eye sunglasses that she needed something- and didn’t want to be seen getting it.

She nods curtly, “how much can you lift?” I raise my eyebrows and give a weary smile. “As much as you need,” I raise my toned arms up and flex, “an entire man if need be.” I say that part a little slyly and I’m not sure if she picked up on it.

The young woman takes a moment to glance back around at the other men there, the ones waiting for work or waiting to be asked for it. She takes a step back and turns toward me again.

“I can pay $.75 cents an hour.” She says in a sharp whisper, getting straight to the point and making me sit up and pay attention.

I hadn’t gotten work in a long time, but I hadn’t been in this town very long either. I go to stand up, I smile, “discrete work or should I fill out my taxes for this?” The woman twitches slightly, “it’s nothing distasteful,” she says hotly and adjusts her glasses, “I need an extra pair of hands.” And she didn’t want to ask one of these men for it I assumed.

I give a small nod, “I’m listening.” I wait patiently before prompting her again, “If you’d like to elaborate that is.” She swipes her sunglasses off and lifts her chin, “I’m building a bomb shelter in my backyard.” She says with steel in her voice, “we need to start as soon as possible.” I just lift my eyebrows and shrug, “sounds a good a plan as any.” She turns around and I follow.

—————–

Her arms were folded over her chest and her heels clicked on the ground when she walked, I could tell by her round cheeks and slight pout that she wasn’t much younger than me. But that wasn’t a good sign.

I watch her, clenched hands and completely straight back, lead the way out of Downing Street, an ironic name for what it was.

I don’t look back as we cross the road into the other neighborhoods, it wasn’t a big town, but it wasn’t an empty one either. I felt that, the buses actually stopped here and somebody gave a damn about how the sidewalks looked.

I’m thinking about the cracks in the road they paved over when the young woman stopped in place, her straight back and wide skirt forming a brick wall, I almost run into her.

“Woah there,” I skid on my heels to stop from bowling the little woman over.

She turns to me with the same pissy cat-in-the-water look, she lifts her chin, “What’s your name?” I want to tell her that there are different ways to ask that, ways where she didn’t have her pussycat claws out.

I push my messy hair back, I had hacked it off with a knife before I left, but I was sure as hell grateful for that once I realized I forgot my hairbrush anyway.

“Carolyn,” I lie, but maybe she knows that. She nods briefly and I suddenly doubt it. “You?” I ask after a stilted pause.

She puts her cat-eye sunglasses back on, “follow me.” “That’s what I’m doin,” we don’t pause as we pick up the brisk pace again, but the woman seemed to have been satisfied with my name divulsion.

“I’ll need someone by 8am every day, but if you see a blue car in the driveway don’t come in.” I lift my eyebrows as she speaks, a little mystery wrapped in a pink skirt.

Her heels click and she takes another left, this time towards the treeline in the distance.

I wanted to say I didn’t own a watch so it was hard to be on time for ‘8am’ but maybe I can bring that up later as an obvious fact. Or maybe just work the one day and see if she gives enough change for bus money.

I planned to skip town just as quickly as the last one, even if the sidewalks were paved smooth here.

I go from a different angle instead, “any reason miss?” Her brow furrows as if in thought, “I don’t want… trouble.” “Okay,” My mood sours a little, she thinks I’m just trouble, but I was waiting on Downing Street for work, perhaps that’s all she saw. Just more poor white trash looking for handouts.

The woman starts to point, “it’ll be around the back.” I try to survey the area to see which identical house she was referring to, but maybe they were all her house, it was all the same to me.

I put my hands in my pocket and she chooses a beige house with a pale blue door and ushers me into the yard, “you’ll knock on the door first, but please, not loudly. I swear Dorris from next door has eagle ears.” I blink and clear my throat, “I think it’s eagle eyes, miss.” She gives me a curious look, “she’s listening, not looking, I.” “No, the phrase, it’s eagle eyes.” Maybe it was unfair to test her, but she had already taken me all the way here.

She tilts her head up and I see a fiery line across her mouth, maybe I should leave. She tuts, “Well fine, she has very good hearing. Like a bat?” I crack a smile, “perhaps.” She shakes her head, “don’t be difficult,” she wags a finger in the air, “I would do this myself if I wasn’t so…” She trails off and I cock my head to the side.

I glance down at her hands, “dainty?” I offer with my eyebrows raised.

She takes another deep breath, “it there was more time.” She waves her hand in the air, “but there isn’t, come along back.” Her heels seem to sink into the soft grass as she rounds the side of the house, I look up at the two-story house and almost want to whistle. It was like something out of a magazine.

“Is heavy lifting the main of it?” She glances over her shoulder, expression tight. “Digging.” She says in a clipped tone, “we need to dig.” I just nod and realize that’s why she must be doing this with me and not say, a construction company. Places like this probably didn’t want giant holes marring their backyards, I imagined the woman sitting through many conversations about home property values.

I round the house expecting to see a small portioned off section of the backyard, but my eyes go wide when I see nothing but holes, shallow turned up holes. I whistle this time, “you have something against your grass?” It was almost a joke.

She turns back to me, “I tried,” she pauses, “well, the closer to my house it could be the better. But I can’t do that anymore.” She waves her hand through the air, “I’m having someone come lay down new grass in a few days, it’s nothing.” I give a slight grin, I imagine she had a lot of conversations about this too. “Luckily,” she says breathily, “Todd let me take that ugly fence out anyway.” I turn and see where the backyard opened up into a dense set of trees, “huh.” I examine them for a second, they were evenly spaced out and room enough to walk between them, they were old. Old broad-leaf oak trees mixed with conifers farther in.

I squint at it for a long second before turning back to the lady. “Right.” I say under my breath and wait for her.

The woman looks both ways before bending down next to the house, she unlocks a small cellar door with fast methodical movements.

I frown at it slightly, “will the cellar not work?” I ask curiously and her muddy blue-brown eyes flash up. She also frowns, “you need sealing doors and 2.4 inches of concrete. My cellar is only 1 inch at best.” She sniffs, “it won’t be enough.” I give her another once-over, “well alright.” She picks up a shovel from inside and hands it to me, “here.” She turns back around, “wait here for a moment.” She places a second shovel down and turns back to the house, “and don’t take something and just run off. I’ll be…cross.” I’m suddenly glad she asked me and not some of the other men at the site, I just gesture loosely, “go ahead.” She runs off and I realize she really must be very young, grown woman didn’t let strangers they just met roam their backyards. Of course, I wasn’t quite up to stealing from young woman yet, so I stand and examine the clouds in their soft wispy threads overhead.

It was a nice day, almost nice enough to forget about the grit under my fingernails and the deep itch rooting through my scalp. I try not to itch in front of the lady.

The door bangs shut again after a few minutes, “alright,” the woman came back out in a pair of work trousers that looked too big for her and a brown loose t-shirt. Her glasses reflected the light and she wore a handkerchief over her curls.

She starts fast-walking, “This way, this way,” she gestures in a jerky motion and keeps talking, “I figure it’ll be the capital first, which would give us around six minutes to make our way over to the shelter,” she says in a quick, almost manic tone.

“Right,” I follow after her brisk pace, she was wearing a pair of pale white loafers now and seemed to ignore them when dirt splatters over the top.

“I’ve timed the walking process on several occasions and if we run at top speed we should still be able to reach it in four.” She points ahead, “if we don’t run into any trees or uneven ground, but that’s an entirely different problem to be addressed.”

“Right,” I nod again as she leads me under the canopy of trees and out toward an opening just ahead. I’m suddenly a little nervous for myself, blonde housewives don’t murder vagabonds in the woods, do they? I size her up again and hold my shovel tighter.

“Luckily, this area was cleared of trees a few years ago and has wide enough dimensions to house any 25 by 25 shelter, which should be just enough.” She leads me into a sunny path that covered a large field just inside the woods.

I was surprised by how flat it was, but we were on the plains now, sometimes I forgot how differently the country sloped and shaped itself in other places.

“We’ll need 3 feet of topsoil and six or seven feet of room for the structure, though it also depends on how fast we can dig,” she turns to me and looks at me, her fierce eyes almost glowing. “So we should dig fast.”

She seemed to transform in the light of the strange forest, different now, like she walked out of her magazine cover and back into the poor lighting and harsh smells of the real world. She cocks her head to the side, “I’m Ginger by the way.” I tilt my head to the side, “Ginger.” I repeat her name and look both directions, it felt like meeting her all over again, “Well, pleasure to work with you then Ginger.” She cracked an almost-smile and points, “this is where I’ve been digging so far, but it hasn’t been very much.” My eyes go wide as I see a gigantic hole, deep enough for a man to stand waist-deep in, I gulp and turn back to her. “That thing isn’t for strangers you have a problem with, is it?” I smile unevenly.

She looks me up and down, “don’t be absurd.” She takes several strides to her hole, “that be completely messy. And a waste.”

I follow her uncertainty and she looks over her shoulder with a little humor in her eyes, “and not something I do. Now,” she snaps her fingers, “please help me start digging miss Carolyn.”

I can only follow her to the edge of a very large musty hole and stab my shovel into the hard earth below. I only glance over a couple times to see my companion hard at work, not wavering in her concentration. I turn back to stabbing the clumps of earth and keeping my head down, I don’t know what I expected this morning, but it wasn’t this.

We keep digging.

———————————–

It’s dark by the time we finish, Ginger curses under her breath, something like ‘dang it’ or ‘drat’ I assume. She mumbles to herself about cooking and finding something to scrounge up.

“Thank you for your help today,” she says breathlessly as she scrambles out of the pit, “this was twice as fast as usual.” I shrug emptily and look around, “this is going to take awhile.” I note in my head that that could either be a bad sign or a good one.

Ginger hums and puts her hand out, “I have your money on the coffee table. I can run and get it in a second.” I stare at her outstretched hand for a long moment, she was wearing a pair of thick white gardening gloves, and wiggling her fingers in midair. I look back up and then back to her, I take it. She starts pulling me up, heaving me back out of the hole and helping me to my feet, I can only dust myself off and stare at her again.

She waves at me, her head already turned toward the houses, “hurry, I don’t need Todd asking where I’ve been again.” She shakes her head and I figure I was already half-way into this gig as it was.

“Who’s Todd?” I venture slowly and watch her back become straight as an iron pole.

“My husband,” she says like she couldn’t believe I hadn’t put it together. “Works in the firm downtown, Mr. Samuels. You might have heard of him.” I give a slight smile, “can’t say I have.” She picks her way through the foliage, I could see her muscles untense for a moment, “well that’s fine too.” I make a soft sound and follow her toward her house and the dying light just overhead. It was becoming late summer so the days were shorter, I blink. Of course, I had never been somewhere with a winter before, my brain couldn’t really fathom ‘post-summer.’

Ginger disappears into house after locking our shovels in the cellar once more.

I put my hands in my pockets and bounce on my heels as I wait, I’m half expecting her not to come out again at all. But I remember her outstretched hand and small grunt as she heaved me out of the hole.

I realize Ginger Samuels must be a very strange young lady.

She comes back out and I see a wad of cash in her hands and a striped garment. “Here, and some extra,” she shoves both at me, “Dolly says I can’t have the neighbors talking. Anymore I mean.” “Oh,” I looked down at the clothes and extra cash, then back up, “uh, thank you then.” I blink and look over the pair of men’s pants and rough shirt. “Thank you.” I say it again, more of whisper than a sentence, but I mean it. She waves her hand, “don’t mention it,” she nods at me, “you seem like the honest type.”

You don’t know me.

I bite my bottom lip, “Can I ask you something Miss Ginger?” She pauses and her round eyes pause curiously, like a dog waiting for its name to be called.

“Yes?” I open my mouth and take a long moment to let the air settle, “how old are you?” Ginger’s furrows her brow, “19, why?” I feel my insides drop and almost want to sigh, “just curious.” I look back down to count my dollars quickly and am not surprised to find it all there and then some. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her face lights up, not fully, but enough for a small little sunny patch. “Good,” she dusts her pants off, “it’s going to be so much quicker.” She sings. I sniff, “sounds good.” I wave, “I’ll arrive the back way.” “Oh yes, thanks.” She says it in a way that made me think she hadn’t thought of that and feel something is mixing in my gut.

I wave again and turn to run off, she calls after me, “Remember, 8 O’clock!” I’m little uncertain now what I got myself into.

———————-

I stay that night at a motel, I told myself I was going to save the money and get on the nearest bus, but the itch was slowly eating away at my mental health. I needed a shower and I needed it now.

Being able to pay the clerk up front as I clutch my backpack to my side was like coming home on your wedding night, fresh, new, slightly tear-jerking. He looks me over skeptically, counts the money, sniffs it and, like church bells ringing, he waves me into a small yellow motel room.

I almost cry when I look at the bed and then back to the running sink and bath. “Oh thank God.” I’m tempted to collapse on the bed and fall asleep immediately, but I make sure to set my alarm and scrub every inch of me clean in hot water. The bath has a line of grit on it when I’m done, but I can’t bring myself to care.

I even take a minute to examine my uneven hair before letting the lank strands fall back down, I shrug at it before crawling into bed and feeling the relief of the prospect of a full 8-hours of sleep. I drift off with my head on a pillow instead of my bag, I dream of hotcakes and syrup.

The morning comes more quickly then I would like, but I count the cents I have left and hurry back out in my new pair of slacks and a loose button-up shirt.

The streets are sunny and mildly busy in the early morning light, kids run off from their porches and drive their bikes down low hills, old ladies glare at me as I pass. I just keep my head down and try to play the part of a ghost in a strange town.

I didn’t need trouble.

Ginger Samuels is standing in her backyard when I arrive, her shovel out and I firm line across her face. She turns to me sharply when I jog up around the back, “Good morning,” she says intently, “have you eaten?” I slow down as I arrive, “no?” I had snickers for dinner last night, but it had been at least four so I had been feeling a little more pleased than usual.

She hands me a doughy croissant and I can only stare at it, “It’s going to be a long day.” She promises when I don’t move, “and we can’t work tomorrow, so we have to do all we can today. I found a construction man that will do what I need for concrete, but time is of the essence.” “What’s tomorrow?” I say, picking up the flaky warm bread and stuffing it in my mouth, my whole heart squeezing at the butter melts in my mouth. I decide then and there that I will see to it that Ginger Samuel’s has her fallout shelter, even if it was fine by me if I wasn’t in it.

She blinks a couple times, “It’s Saturday,” she says quickly, “and I can’t forget about dinner again.” My muscles pinch at that, but I can’t read her expression. I stuff the rest of the croissant into my mouth and walk beside her as we turn back to the woods.

I hear her counting off under her breath as we go, probably still measuring the time it takes to get to the doors in time.

She puts her hand up when we reach the mouth of the crater, “same as yesterday,” she hops down, “but we might run into some tree roots now, I have gardening shears for that, so just tell me if you hit anything.”

I look both directions before following her in, it was a little deeper than yesterday, “can I ask something?” I say as I start shoveling dirt up in the early morning light.

“Yes?” She doesn’t look up as she hacks at a ball of dirt at her feet.

“Are you not afraid of someone finding this?” I venture carefully, trying to keep my tone light and off-handed.

She makes a soft grunt, “no.” She shakes her head, “the locals think this place is haunted.” She laughs a little, “not that it matters with what’s coming soon.” I see the sweat drip down her brow and I think I know what she’s thinking about, what she’s always thinking about.

“Haunted?” I pause and tilt my head up, squinting off into the dense trees behind me, “I’m not sure if I like the sound of that.” “The locals are just daft,” she says quickly, “and it’s better for us. No one to come looking.” I just shrug and start shoveling again, “works for me.” I was still being paid and getting to leave my things in the hotel room for a night instead of a random locker I found.

“By the way,” Ginger looks up and I catch her eye, she sniffs, “you cleaned up nicely.” My eyes widen a little and her politeness takes me by surprise, I look back down at my shoes, “for now.” I point down, “but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I wasn’t covered in dirt by the end of today again.” I say with a little smile and she hums.

“True enough,” she waves, “tell me if you’re ever thirsty. Sometimes I forget about it, the doctor says I keep getting dehydrated. So I’m not a good judge of these things.” I bore my shovel down and give a small smile, “I’ll watch out for the both of us.” She doesn’t look up, but I feel a little tingle deep down, she hums at me and I see her features relax, that was enough. The hole gets larger, up and down, up down, I get lost in the motion of making Ginger Samuels her hole.

Its noon by the time we pause again, digging itself was almost rhythmic and soothing, predictable in a pleasant way. Which would be okay if my hands didn’t start to chafe and complain at me halfway through. I don’t bring this up to Ginger, though I do start to swallow loudly.

The late summer sun is high in the sky when I turn to her slowly, the sweat running down her brow and the same look of utmost concentration painted across her features. I clear my throat, “ahem.” I blink a couple times and wait, “maybe,” I venture loudly, “we could use some water.” She pauses, like an interrupted engine, sputtering for second and grinding to halt. She turns slowly and then looks up, she nods, her words sounding tin and distant, “Yes, good idea.” This time, I’m sure to push myself forcefully out of the hole first and turn towards her, “Here.” I put my blistering hands out and wait to see what happens. Ginger takes my hand and I pull her out of the hole with a gentle tug, I make a note of it in my head.

She gives a small laugh as she staggers to her feet, “we should start building in some stairs.” “Yeah,” I lift my eyebrows, “I hadn’t thought of that.” She pins some of her loose hair back and gives an almost-smile, “I think that’s what they do at construction sites.” I make a face, “maybe?” “Come on,” she tugs on my sleeve, “let’s drink water. Then build stairs. Which, they definitely use at construction sites.” “Maybe ladders miss?” “Hmm,” she picks her way across the forest area and I hurry to follow, “well, yes, though Todd broke our ladder last fourth of July.” She smiles in a simple demure way. “You know boys.” My eyebrows raise and I just make a non-committed motion, “Can’t say I do,” I pause to wait for her attention, “but I’ll be sure to lock up my ladders if they ever come around.” Ginger’s step almost slips, she looks back at me and something passes across her features, something bright. She laughs slowly, like something unexpected had been dropped in her lap, “that’s funny.” She covers her mouth and laughs again.

I can’t help but smile down to my shoes, “my pleasure miss.” I say it under my breath and we make it back toward her large beige house.

She raises her hand again for us to stop and dusts off her dirty pants before she opens the house door, “I’ll be right back.” She frowns over in my direction, “it’s really too much of a mess in here to have visitors in right now.” Liar, “but I’ll bring sandwiches out.”

I take a deep breath in through my nose as she disappears. I kick a stray dirt clump away from me. They hadn’t gotten new grass for the lawn yet.

“It’s too much of a mess for visitors,” I scoff slightly, “whatever.” My stomach tightens, the lying was much worse than her previous flagrant truth.

I stare back out over the neighbor’s lawn and make eye contact with a large orange cat, I wave at him. He pads a little closer and I give him a flat look, “Is the house too messy for you too?” He turns around and trots the other direction, I just roll my eyes.

When I face the house again, Ginger is stepping back out with a tray of drinks and sandwiches, I forget about my annoyance at her.

“You really are too kind,” my eyes don’t leave the soft bread with little meats in between.

“I just whipped it up,” she places it down on an outdoor table, “my mom always said I couldn’t cook, but well.” She shrugs, “practice practice practice.” I’m not sure what to make of her high-pitched tone, but maybe she always sounded like that, I wasn’t looking at her.

“Sit sit,” Ginger ushers me forward, “my doctor says I also have to eat citrus fruit, so I’ll be right back.” “Bossy doctor,” I almost joke, she opens her mouth to say something and then turns around.

“I’ll be right back,” she stuffs her hair under her handkerchief once more, “go ahead and dig in.” She didn’t have to tell me twice, I bite into the first little sandwich with a satisfied sigh and sit down. The wind tousles my hair gently and for the first time in a long time, I feel the little sprinting rabbit in my chest start to slow down.

Ginger comes back out with a large orange and starts peeling it as she sits down.

“I hate these things,” she says roughly as she digs her nails in and sees the sweet-smelling liquid drip out.

I chew slowly before swallowing, “there’s other fruits miss.” She glances up, “doctor says oranges are best.” “For what?” I take another bite and Ginger’s eyes crease slightly.

She takes a giant chunk out of the peel, “For the baby.” I sit up completely straight, jerking myself completely awake, I focus on her, “are you pregnant?”

“Oh no no,” she chuckles softly, “we’re trying of course. That’s why I have to watch what I eat, to help the, well, you know.” She continues to peel, “to help the process.” I wrinkle my nose and realize this isn’t what I want to talk about with my employer, “Well good luck.” She just looks down at her fruit like it’s a very sour drink she has chug. “I keep telling Todd it won’t matter either way until I finish my shelter, but he doesn’t seem very convinced. Yet.” She looks up and bats her eyes, “You know men.” I chew thoughtfully, “Can’t say I do,” I repeat my phrase from before, “sounds…frustrating.” She slows down her peeling and looks up, “sometimes.” She continues, “I tell him all about the soviets going atomic and how it was almost over for us during the Berlin Blockade already and who knows what’ll happen with the hydrogen developments. But,” her expression clouds over, “I might as well be talking to a brick wall sometimes.” She shakes her curls and I watch them dance, “He says I worry too much.” I wait a long moment to see if she’s done and study her rounded profile, I hum, “It’s a smart a plan as any,” I say easily, “from what I know of the Soviets, you never know.”

I try to placate her as I take another sandwich. “Yes, really,” she kept speaking in her manic quick tone, “and by ‘never know,’ you just know any misstep and they’ll think we’re attacking them or their attacking us, and there’s no telling who could get ancy and blow us to, heck.” She takes a deep breath, “these aren’t the type of men to hold back.”

“Of course, yeah,” I just nod and watch her talk.

Her large brown-blue eyes go wide, “it’s enough to make a girl a little worried.” She says in a low voice, stopping in her orange-peeling. “A little stressed.” She says hotly, “and it’s enough to be at least prepared.” I give a slight smile, “that’s what I’m here for.” I pat her knee gently, “No need to be too worried though Miss Ginger. We’ll have at least a little time to finish your project before anything happens.” She turns quickly and straightens out her pants, “yes! Time,” She says sharply, “the Soviets are still mourning Stalin, they’ll be focused inward at least until the dust settles. Unless, of course, during the power struggle one of them wants to prove his mettle and bomb the hell out of something to prove himself and then that will cascade just like WWI and dr-” I put my hand on her knee more firmly, “we’ll go as fast as we can Miss Ginger,” I give a little wink, “I hear we have at least six minutes.” She takes a deep breath and I watch as she forces her shoulders to relax, she blinks like she’s coming out of a dream. “The doctor says he’s worried about this too,” she says bitterly, “says I need more sleep and less… thinking.” “You seem to think a lot.” I swallow the last of my sandwich, “but I’ve never found that a bad thing in people.” Her shoulders ease down slightly and the light plays across her face from between the single tree in their yard.

“I’m sure,” she takes a deep breath in, “there’s at least a little time.”

I give her a thumbs up, hopefully supportively, “that’s the spirit!”

She smiles gently and I ask her about what type of grass she’s going to put in, she informs me she has absolutely no idea, we laugh at ourselves but I’m still not entirely sure why.

We travel back into the woods, this time I watch Ginger Samuels back carefully, I could see the gears spinning off in her pretty head and I had to make sure they didn’t catch fire. My cousin always used to talk about ‘hysterical housewives’ but I wasn’t sure what that really looked like.

Or if I should really be listening to that particular cousin with track marks down his arms and who broke into my grandma’s trailer for money two winters ago.

I shake my head and watch Ginger work her gears and prepare to pay me seven dollars for just a bit of digging.

——————

The day passes in a distant blur, it wasn’t bad work, or it wasn’t bad work compared to sleeping on a bench all day. Ginger was muttering to herself sometimes and on occasion I feel like I should poke her or get her to snap out of it with a magic word.

I remember seeing a magician when I was six, he hypnotized a woman and had her cluck like a chicken. It was the funniest thing in the world to me back then, but I couldn’t remember for the life of me what he said to wake her up again.

I feel like I wanted to wake Ginger up from something.

Her little back bent down and she kept chipping away around us, I focus on building some stairs so we don’t have to keep scrambling out as the hole got deeper. I throw a couple worms we find out and chop away at roots.

We hadn’t found the really big ones yet, mostly tall weeds and small offshoots from trees, but I knew they were coming.

“Ugh,” Ginger grunts just as I place another long earthworm on the grass far away from the growing pit. “Ack.” I turn around and trot over, “anything wrong?” I call out, squinting my eyes into the setting sun in front of me.

Ginger grunts again, “I hit something.” I hear a clunk as she whacks something with the shovel. “It’s pretty thick, help me dig it out.” I frown, “I guess we were bound to hit some rocks eventually,” I call out as I grab my shovel and jump back in.

Ginger shakes her head as she comes into view, “there shouldn’t be any large rocks out this way, they cleared it years ago for development.” “Okay,” I look back into the enclave where she was hacking away, “there?” “Yeah,” she nods, “it’s big, I hit it a few times.” “Well,” I poke my shovel in. “Let me try, maybe you just gotta,” I swing my shovel back, “put some shoulder into it.” I swing with all my might in the hopes of cracking the thing loose, a metallic clank follows, something ringing in a sudden unworldly song.

IIIIRrriinng

I glance over at Ginger, and then I feel my whole body seize up.

The breath leaves my lungs, I’m thrown into the air, like a sudden pull from some great unknown. I don’t have time to cry out as I feel myself tumble head over heels upward, upward and upward.

I rush past the tree line and feel the pull of nothingness around me, there isn’t a lot of time to make sense of it as I hurtle toward the sky, blood rushing to my head and world spinning.

Then I feel my body grasped by gravity once more, this time in the opposite direction, “Aah!” I cry out, flailing my hands around me. My stomach turns as I go plummeting back down. The ground comes up to meet me like a slow motion horror show, rapidly rushing to meet me, my brain grasping the inevitable just as I watch the green grass come crashing toward me.

I barely close my eyes before I hit the ground. A pain shoots through my head and the world goes dark.

PART TWO ---->>

#wlw #original story #science fiction #sapphic #period piece #sci-fi story #lbgt+ story #apologies to anyone on tumblr mobile #the cut doesn't show on the first post of anything on tumblr mobile #so that's why you have to scroll so much

237 notes · View notes

tiny-maus-boots · 6 years

Text

Missing Her

“Bec?” Chloe cautiously opened the door to the room Beca shared with Fat Amy and poked her head in. She smiled at the sight of Beca passed out spread eagle on the bed with her headphones still on even though her laptop had long since gone into sleep mode. A tiny snort of a snore made her bite her lip to keep from giggling. It was the cutest damn thing she’d ever seen. At least so far today. But then she thought most things Beca were the cutest damn thing she’d ever seen. It made her loathe to wake her up but she stepped quietly into the room anyway. “Beca?”

“Mm.” It wasn’t so much of a response as an annoyed grunt but Chloe decided it was enough and padded to her friend’s bed, settling herself on the edge of it so she could gently shake Beca’s shoulder. One unfocused eye opened, blinked twice and fluttered closed again. God. Beca Mitchell was…adorable. Even when she was being a lazy sleep monster. This time the giggle bubbled past her lips and she didn’t even try to stop it. “Wha? M’wake.”

“Yeah. I can tell what with the closed eyes and everything.” This time both of Beca’s eyes opened and blinked rapidly as she focused in on Chloe. She smiled sunnily at the clearly still foggy woman, her smile growing wider even as she saw the cranky slide behind Beca’s eyes. “Oh good you’re awake.”

“Uh. Only because some jerk decided to sit on my bed and stare at me until I opened my eyes.” It made Chloe laugh because she knew Beca wasn’t actually irritated. Beca sat up slowly, pulling her headphones off and setting them to the side carefully. The palms of her hands came up to press against her eyes and she grunted. “Chlo. It’s Sunday morning. You know even God got to sleep in on Sunday morning right?”

It was quiet and she hazarded a glance at Chloe who was still beaming sweetly at her. How was it even possible to be that gloriously cheerful this early? Or that beautiful? Wasn’t that like illegal or something? “It’s almost noon!” Beca groaned and looked at the clock. Nope. Not even close to noon. Or at least not close enough for her to be up yet.

“It’s 10:02.”

“Yeah. Almost noon!” It should have been more annoying than it was but she laughed anyway when Chloe bounced a little on the bed. It was pretty clear that she wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep any time soon. “So what happened last night?” Beca froze. Last night. Chloe couldn’t possibly know about last night. Could she? No. She wouldn’t be this cheery if she had actually known. Right? Maybe?

“Uh…”

Chloe gave her an exasperated sigh and another bounce. “You were supposed to meet us at the Garage? Don’t tell me you forgot…” A frown ghosted across Chloe’s face and she wondered if Beca intentionally stayed away. She was like that sometimes, opting to go her own way rather than hang out in group settings. Chloe was starting to get used to it but sometimes she worried that she was annoying Beca too much.

“Oh.” There was a pause and something guilty flashed in Beca’s eyes as she sat up and cleared her throat awkwardly. “Uh I actually got caught up at Callum’s. M’sorry Chlo, I promise I’ll make it the next time.” It seemed sincere enough even if Beca was suddenly very obviously uncomfortable. Chloe tried to catch her eye but Beca avoided and flopped back against her pillows. “Things just came up.”

“It’s okay.” Beca still seemed a little shifty but Chloe didn’t press her on it. She smiled and rested her hand on Beca’s arm and gave it a light squeeze. They weren’t a thing. Not really. But she couldn’t help but reach out and touch the small brunette like all of the time. Even in little ways. A nudge here and there, shoulder bump from time to time, a Howler monkey death grip hug on occasion. Whatever she could get away with really. “Jessica and Ashley want to do brunch today. You up for it?”

Sunday brunches had been mandatory when Aubrey was captain but so far this year they hadn’t picked up the tradition. “That’s still a thing? I thought you didn’t you know want to do things the way they were before.” Beca watched Chloe’s face carefully, looking for any sign that she might know Aubrey was or had been in town. Truthfully she didn’t know if their former captain was even still in the house.

“I know.” Chloe shrugged and played with the fingers of her left hand idly, not really wanting to look too hard at Beca. “I just thought it would be nice. Like Bree was still here almost.” It still hurt. Thinking about Aubrey was like a swift punch to the chest these days but she missed her friend. So damn much. And maybe she just wanted to feel like things used to be for a little bit. Maybe she wouldn’t miss her quite so badly if she kept some of Aubrey’s better habits. Chloe looked up quickly when Beca didn’t say anything. “I miss her. Which I know is stupid right? We still talk. Kinda. And she’s only like ten hours away it’s just…” Different. It was completely different now.

Aubrey hadn’t just left at the end of the previous year. She’d blown off graduation and gone radio silent for six whole weeks. Six agonizingly long weeks. When Aubrey had finally texted her back it was a little distant and clipped but Chloe hadn’t cared because at least Aubrey was still talking to her. The blonde had said she was sorry and that she had taken a last minute internship in Washington D.C. but Chloe hadn’t been so sure that was the truth. It wasn’t like she was stalking Aubrey really but yeah she totally stalked her Facebook. There hadn’t been any mention of or pictures from D.C. Then again there hadn’t been anything at all since May the previous year. Beca cleared her throat uncomfortably again. “You’re still messed up over that aren’t you?”

It was quiet and surprisingly gentle for Beca. Chloe raised a shoulder halfway then sighed and shook her head. “Yes. I mean. Not really. But yes.” That was just…confusing. Even to her own ears. Chloe raised a hand and let it drop to her lap. It was hard to talk to Beca about these things because some of them involved her feelings for her new co-captain. And while Chloe knew they were on the cusp of something more they still hadn’t gotten there yet. Partially because she was still working through Aubrey abandoning her. She winced at her own thought. That wasn’t fair. Aubrey hadn’t exactly abandoned her. She’d just left without a word for over a month and refused to answer her calls. “We were best friends for a long time before we were anything else. I miss talking to her. I miss hearing her laugh. Aubrey laughs are the best. Not the cold ones, the real ones where she crinkles up her nose and…” Chloe cut herself off and shook her head when she felt the hot sting of tears start. “Sorry.”

“Dude.” Beca sat up and ran her hands through her hair. Yeah it was weird a little bit. Hearing about Chloe still being into Aubrey when Beca herself was into Chloe. But. This was Chloe. Seeing her upset and struggling to hide it was just…wrong. On so many levels. Beca scooted a little closer and pulled Chloe’s hand into her lap. “You don’t have to say sorry for having feelings. Because I’m pretty sure you’re never gonna stop having all of the feelings all of the time.” Which was fine for Beca. It saved her from having too many feelings if Chloe was hogging them all. Chloe’s fingers flexed in hers and Beca gave into the desire to lace them together. It was fine right? Friends did that. They held hands. Right? “You’re allowed to miss Aubrey. Pretty sure she misses you like whoa too.”

It wasn’t something she could really talk to Chloe about but after last night Beca was almost positive Aubrey was falling off the deep end. “You’re a good friend Beca Mitchell.” That made Beca a little uncomfortable. Was she though? Did good friends not tell their crushes that their ex was in town? She wasn’t sure. Beca gave a non-committal hum before sighing like a DMV worker on a Friday afternoon.

“Yeah well. Maybe. Sometimes I’m not entirely a dick.” Chloe laughed at that and used their clasped hand to pull her close for a warm hug. The truth of the matter was, she didn’t really know why Aubrey had broken up with Chloe. They didn’t talk about that. Personally she thought it was monumentally stupid of the blonde but after seeing her the previous night she wondered if maybe Aubrey thought it was monumentally stupid too. It left her wondering if she should even try. They could get back together and then where would she be?

“Aw Becs, you’re not a dick. You’re just grumpy face 80 percent of the time.” It made Beca laugh and she nuzzled in a little further to Chloe’s neck for a half second before pulling away quickly.

“Yeah well. Whatever. I’m still not doing brunch.” Chloe let Beca pull away but still kept a hold of her hand. If she hadn’t just been going on about her feelings about missing Aubrey she might have just kissed Beca right then and there. Maybe. She smiled widely and leaned forward to kiss Beca on the cheek before letting go of her hand. It was enough that Beca had listened, it had made her feel a little better and that was all Chloe really needed right now.

“Okay Grumpy Face. I’ll bring you back something to eat. Mind if I borrow your black jacket?”

Beca nodded and waved in the general direction of the desk before stretching back out on her bed, face down. She might not be able to get to sleep again but she wasn’t quite ready to face the day yet either. “Yeah sure. Just leave the thumb drive in the pocket on my desk. It has our new mixes on it.”

The bed shifted as Chloe stood and grabbed the jacket off the pile of books and dug around in the pocket. The drive wasn’t the only thing in there, a card was stuck at an awkward angle and she had to tug a few times to get it out. “Hey your bank card is on th…” Chloe froze, staring at the plastic card in her hand. She wouldn’t have even looked twice at it if she hadn’t been folding the bar tab around it. Aubrey Posen. She read the name again just to be sure she wasn’t imaging it. “Why do you have Aubrey’s ca…Oh my God!” Realization hit her like a brick to the face and Beca’s jacket fell out her suddenly nerveless fingers on to the ground

Beca shot up from the bed and Chloe stared at her. “I can explain!”

“Is this why you didn’t go to the Garage? Because you were with her??” It hurt so badly she almost couldn’t breathe. Chloe wanted to wait for an answer but she just couldn’t. She couldn’t even really wrap her head around the idea that Aubrey had been there or was there and Beca hadn’t told her. Let alone that they were together. Even after she had JUST said how much she missed Aubrey.

“It’s not what you think Chlo I swear. I can explain everything…”

“You know what? I don’t…I don’t…I can’t even…” But Chloe just didn’t have the words. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks but before Beca could reach out to her she spun on a heel and ran out of the attic room and down the stairs card still clutched tightly in her hand. Beca stumbled on her jacket as she tried to catch up with the redhead.

“Chlo! CHLOE! Wait!!” She had only managed to get to the second floor before the front door slammed hard enough to make the walls shake. “FUUUUUUCK!” This was not at all how Beca wanted her Sunday to go. “Seriously? This is what I get for trying.”

xxxxx

Oh God. Light. Why was there light? Who told the sun it could be so damn bright? Aubrey groaned and tried to bring a hand to her face but it was pinned by something. Why? Why had she gotten so damn drunk? And why did it feel like a small furry animal had died in her mouth? Aubrey rolled her body but only got as far as her pinioned arm would let her. Slowly she turned her head and cracked one eye open. Wait. Where the hell… “Stacie?!?”

Aubrey shot straight up in shock displacing the tall brunette with a hard jostle. Oh God. She shouldn’t have done that. Her head throbbed wickedly and she groaned. Why? Why did she do that to herself? Stacie rubbed her face and raised a brow at Aubrey. “Hey. You look like crap.”

Well she felt like crap so that was about right. The blonde closed her eyes with a wince and scratched idly at her chest. Then frowned. One eye pried open and she looked down. She didn’t have a shirt on. Pale eyes rolled to the side. Stacie was about as naked as a body could be. Oh no. Oh God. Very slowly she turned her head all the way to face Stacie and swallowed the bile down as best she could. “We…uh…didn’t…”

“No.” It was flat and almost bored. But it was all she needed to let out a sigh of relief. “Two things. First, I don’t sleep with people literally crying on me because they miss their ex. Not that you didn’t try. And two…baby you’d remember me.” Heat crept up her face and Aubrey wished there was a hole big enough to crawl into and die.

“I…tried?” That wasn’t even the worst part of that whole speech. “While crying?”

“Over Chloe.” Aubrey was fucking mortified. And if she’d had any moisture at all in her body she might have burst into tears. As it was she felt like a dried out husk as she choked out a tearless sob. One hand covered her mouth and she leaned over the edge of the bed. It only made her head pound harder but she just couldn’t even look at Stacie. “You’re kind of a boob girl aren’t you?”

“Oh my God. I’m…I’m so sorry Stacie…” The amusement in the other woman’s voice almost too much to take and she reached out for her discarded shirt just as the door across the hall opened and closed loudly. It made her wince. Why were all the noises so loud right now? Stacie sat up on the bed behind her and rested a warm hand on the small of her back but the idea of any one touching her at the moment made her skin crawl. “I can’t believe I…that is unacceptable. God. How can you even look at me right now?”

“Hey…Bree…stop. Please?” Aubrey’s hands were shaking and she just wanted to be anywhere but there. Anywhere she could hide in abject shame. “It’s okay you know.”

“No it is not!” How could this ever be okay? Stacie tried to get Aubrey to turn and face her but there was no way on this green earth she would ever be able to look at Stacie again. Let alone in the eye. “This is not how I was raised. This is…weak.” She was weak. Weak and broken.

“Why? Because your heart is broken? Aubrey that’s just fucking life. People get hurt. They’re allowed to feel things you know. You’re allowed to feel things.”

“Not other people’s breasts!” Because apparently she was a boob girl. Oh God. Alice had been right. She failed. As Captain. As friend. As everything. She was a failure. Stacie’s chuckle only made the whole thing that much harder to bear and she roughly yanked the lavender monogramed button up over her shoulders. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Sorry. It’s just I never anticipated you waking up in my bed. At least. I never anticipated you waking up in my bed pissed off and ashamed to be there. We didn’t do anything Bree. I swear. The groping was mostly accidental.” Mostly. That word echoed in her head and she wanted to puke. How could she? How could she have done that under the same roof where Chloe slept? Oh God Chloe. “Aubrey are you okay?”

She tossed a glare over her shoulder at Stacie because she clearly was not okay. The bite rising to her lips and coloring her words. “No Stacie I’m not okay! I practically assaulted you and then cried over another woman. Why would I ever be okay with that??” She wasn’t even touching the fact that Stacie already knew who that other woman was. It wasn’t like it was a secret exactly but she was a very private person and her dating life had been one of those don’t ask don’t tell situations. She had to maintain order in the group. There could be no questioning of her authority while she was Captain and allowing the Bellas to know she and Chloe were together was out of the question.

Not that it mattered when Beca questioned her authority over every damn thing else. “You didn’t. Assault me I mean. You were lonely Aubrey and hurting.”

“That’s no excuse!” She didn’t want to be a bitch to Stacie. She wanted to thank her for keeping her out of trouble. For trying to be kind to her when she was obviously distraught. But she was deeply disappointed in herself and angry and it all had to go somewhere. So she snapped at Stacie because that’s what Aubrey did. She lashed out because that was so much easier than dealing with the gnawing pain in her heart and the bubbling acid in her gut. Quick heavy steps resounded on the stairs and along the hall and she cringed hoping no one would come knocking at Stacie’s door and see her there.

“Chlo! CHLOE! Wait!!” Oh no. Beca’s voice echoed as another lighter but just as hurried pounding came down the hall only seconds after the first. Aubrey stilled and waited but Chloe’s steps continued down the next flight of stairs and the front door slammed hard. Aubrey winced both as the volume and the intensity of Beca’s frustration. “FUUUUUUCK!” There was a quiet mutter and the door swung open hard on its hinges, slamming back against the wall. Whatever Beca had been about to say however died on her lips when she took in the image of Aubrey, shirt still unbuttoned sitting on the edge of Stacie’s bed. And Stacie who slept in nothing at all apparently, leaning casually against the headboard. “Seriously???”

There wasn’t any real way to explain this so she didn’t even try. Aubrey lowered her head and got up, inching past Beca quietly. There weren’t any words that she could say to make any of this go away or make sense. Aubrey paused and glanced at Beca’s livid face, she opened her mouth to apologize but closed it just as quickly with a hard click. Without a word she trudged down the stairs fumbling the buttons of her shirt and slunk out of the Bella house. She could never come back. She knew that. She had ruined…everything. Everything that had ever mattered to her.

Beca watched Aubrey go then whirled on Stacie. “Dude! What the fuck?” Stacie’s eyes narrowed and Beca instinctively took a step back from the anger she saw.

“Nice. She was already kicking herself but yeah that was totally what Aubrey needed. And for the record, nothing happened. So. Good job there, Cap’n. Now get out.” When Beca didn’t move fast enough Stacie lobbed a pillow at her head. It was enough for her to back quickly out of the room and shut the door. Okay she could have done without the sarcasm, however justified it may have been. Beca leaned against the wall and let her head thump back against it a few times. Great. She’d fucked up twice in the half hour she’d been awake. Wonderful. Going back to bed seemed like her best option at this point. Beca climbed the stairs slowly wondering how she was going to fix things. For both of them. Even if it meant…

“Fuck.” Even if it meant never getting to be with Chloe. The thought of that caused her a hell of a lot more hurt than she thought it would but it was still probably less pain than either of her friends were in. She didn’t even know how to start untangling this mess Beca only knew that she had to try. For both of them.

26 notes · View notes

vanjieandme · 3 years

Text

3/7/21

today was day one on the road. i left at 4.30, was driving in a black vacuum along tonkin highway until one by one, big land cruisers sped past, their shiny fibreglass caravans in tow. everyone escaping perth after five days in lockdown. everyone overtaking me and vanjie.

we cruised along at 95. at cataby i tried to siphon fuel from my jerry can. got a mouthful of unleaded and the reek all over my mask. i gave up and filled up at the bowser, paid at the counter. the first chicken and cheese sausage of many on this trip. i got back to the car to find my yeti mug can do everything except defy gravity – tea all over the console. talking, laughing, only to myself.

i drove towards the sunrise. magnificent. pinks and oranges spread across the horizon. painting itself across the sky over vast farmland – green, so green.

lily caught up with me eventually. we hitched a ride to the wharf at geraldton and got on a boat to the abrolhos islands. slept on the back of the cray boat in bean bags for an hour, our mouths gaped open. my cloth mask still reeking of fuel – sea sick and petrol sick. i felt better when i woke up, to lily saying: “look, look!”. a whale! leaping into the air, maybe a kilometre away. then hordes of dolphins flipping up, gliding through the air, their silky grey skin flashing in the afternoon sun.

the islands are low-lying. some are empty, just dead coral and sand, rock, shrub. others have colourful huts dotted across them. we are at post office island, where this family have been farming pearls and oysters since the 1960s. the trade war with china has stymied much of the lobster trade here (more than halved their profits). but two of them, jesse and sam, farm here for four months of every year.

it’s barren and beautiful. we tried to walk to the other end of the island but a flock of seagulls hankered us, swooping and scrawing. we supposed there was a nest as not long after a huge sea eagle started gliding over us, circling something below. the seagulls kept swooping it and crying out, always stopping just short of clipping its body.

we swam just off the jetty, it’s right outside our back door. had a warm bucket shower – 15 seconds each max. then sat on the jetty and as two of the kids were coming in, a seal was gliding next to their SUP. it came up to the jetty and parked itself on the sandbank, its chest puffed up, breathing out with pomp, presenting itself to lily and i. we named him – it? – walter, for all the regality.

a simple dinner of rico, miso soup, broccoli. and we keep chaperoning one another to the drops toilets – about 20 meters from our hut, right up against the water.

a big storm comes in tomorrow so we might be here until it leaves. we’ll be here at least five days. the one thing i forgot? my toothbrush.

0 notes

49scribes-a · 7 years

Text

Starters From Shit Said In Gaming Streams:

Some NSFW and potentially triggering content

“Yeah sometimes those big zombies just don't take the hint and then half their bodies come after me.”

“Stop throwing up zombies. Its unsanitary.”

“Thigh highs fit for any _____.”

“BARREL ROLL.”

“Stop keeping quotes about the shit I say when I'm _________.”

“OH, RAPID FIRE. RAPID FIRE. LOOK AT THAT.”

“...whatever the fuck that shit is.”

*sarcastically* “Oh nooo... an ambush. Like, whatever will I do.”

“Y'know I would've fallen from whatever height that was and I would've gotten up.”

“OYNO. Where is it? KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT.”

“Ew it popped.”

“____lord disapproves.”

“Rocking that [name]licious scarf.”

“SHIT ITS BOY/GIRLFRIEND IS COMING.”

“Oh, shit, that's a lot.”

“Of course half of them had to live.”

“Oh did you die finally? Thanks for the money! Even if you only had ___.”

“You made people suffer enough when you were alive. Can't you, y'know, give it a rest?”

“I'm little red riding hood~”

" 'Just got [name]'d'. WOW. You really gonna go there?”

“Already went there.”

“Okay I'm bored. I'm gonna leave it. I'm gonna leave it alone.”

“Op she's vomitting zombies.”

“Deeeeaaaaaath.”

“[name]licious used Swift! Its super effective!”

“Please stop.”

“Whoa that star kinda freaked out.”

“Pop goes the zombubble.”

“Y'know whenever people say [ran him through with a sword] I think of someone like literally running and PLUNGING their sword through someone.”

“If ur sword-running game ain't as strong as Season 2 Suzaku's y'ain't doin it right.”

“We don't talk about that ending. That still hurts me.”

“OF COURSE WE DO. You know what we REALLY don't talk about?"

“WE DON’T TALK ABOUT _____.”

“The goat people!!! And the trees...”

“We've got demonic goat people, I think some frogs... yep, definitely a frog.”

“This house is on fire but it wasn't me.”

“Ooooo legendary shoulders.”

“Oh great, they explode.”

“Biiiirb. Birb birb birb birb. Caw caw motherclucker. BIIIIIRB.”

“I'm going to name this bird ______, and it will be the best ______.”

“Did you just name that ____ after [name]?”

“[name]licious and [name]. Nice(tm).”

“You could've lived if you just stayed still like a good tree.”

“Swift Game Intensifies.”

“Cat Fight!”

“Long time no dick shot.”

"[NAME] YOU ARE BANNED.”

“Holy shit that was a trip.”

“The sweet sound of projectile evisceration.”

“Anybody alive on this side? Okay good I don't need that kind of drama in my life.”

“I COULDN'T STOP PUNCHING HIM.”

“Story of my life.”

“I love how you got literally blown away.”

“Fuck your _____-- SHIT, FUCK--”

“We forgot to start a swear count.”

“Explode, explode, explode-- yyeeaaaaa.”

“I HATE LIFE WHAT IS THAT HOW DID I MISS”

“RIPPERONI SWISS CHEESE”

“Don't you give me your patronizing pats I don't need them.”

“See if I ever give you sympathy pats again.”

“I'm still keeping quotes just fyi.”

“Fucking gasp.”

“BLOWUP BLOWUP BLOWUP BLOWUP.”

“STOP TAKING QUOTES, [NAME] oh my god--”

“I need to take that guy over there with that freaking shotgun Hell nya.”

“YOINK.”

“Eeeeew he ragdolled...”

“Uuuh what did you guys see-- actually nope no I take it back I don't wanna know I don't wanna know what you guys saw.”

“2 much swear 4 utube.”

“I... read that as [do you know how many brain dead dick heads I've hung in my life] and I was like... since when did you kill people?”

“If I killed people you would know because I wouldn't be able to keep my disgusting disection pictures to my fucking self.”

"[CHECK OUT THIS ORGAN LOOK HOW WEIRD IT IS].”

“I was going to laugh if you pole-vaulted to your doom.”

“Well, no, you can swing across. Me? I'm gonna get fUCKED.”

“HIS LEG WORK.”

“I'M IN ATUAL TEARS.”

“I'm like... expecting something to blow up at this poi-- aaand there it is.”

“I don't know what you're reaching for cuz God ain't gonna help you.”

“Wouldn't it be funny if he hit the window and he just... didn't go through it. Just hit the window with a loud THUNK like a bird hitting glass.”

“That rocket launcher is gonna become my best friend.”

“YOU STILL FUCKING SURVIVED THAT SHIT? YOU TOOK IT TO THE /FACE/.”

“Fuck off, I don't want what you're selling-- I DON'T WANT WHAT YOU'RE SELLING.”

“Fuck your turret gun.”

“Fuck it.”

“YEAA-- NOOOOO.”

“How did that not just shove his nose into his skull?”

“I wouldn't have gotten back up, I would've been down. I would've probably been knocked out or... winded... and crying.”

“Yea fuck you _______ I don't like you either.”

“Her name is _____ lady and _____ lady it shall stay.”

“I can't wait to-- Oh look another fucking _______.”

“MAN, HE TWIRLLLED.”

“When I die, I want to ragdoll.”

“Why ragdoll like an Uncharted NPC when you can ragdoll like a Skyrim character leaping off the top of the Throat of the World on the back of a horse.”

“The music is so nice when you don't pay attention to the destruction around you.”

“I want to glitch through the ground, stretching for miles across the land while twitching enough to unnerve the most bad ass fucker before flipping off into space like a goddamn hyper speed rubber band.”

“You want the weirdest things...”

“But they are simple things.”

“How is her makeup still straight. Eye liner still on point.”

“HEY LOOK ITS YOU-- I'm just kidding.”

“You hurt my feelings, that IS totally me.”

“Worship me and my big blue ball.”

“Oh that werewolf fucker. Fucking closet furry.”

“Manicure my _____ nails.”

“I know, I have to fix your ass because all your shit is where its not supposed to be.”

“WELL ITS NOT FUN IF I MAKE IT EASY.”

“DO U THINK I WANT PEOPLE IN HERE TOUCHING ALL MY SECRET SHIT.”

“I GOT PORN MAGS IN HERE.”

“You know I just kinda realized how weird of a pose that is.”

“Tbh -- its taking a huge shit.”

“For some reason I forgot the water drains and thought the statue's loin cloth lifts to reveal a doorway between its legs.”

“God damn it, tired of your bullshit. Have to keep fixing your stuff. Keep fixing your ______...”

“This isn't a dagger. Its a _____. But I'd still stab someone with it.”

*Opens my chastity belt.*

“You know its actually kinda romantic down here---no its not.”

“I transcended the ban like a boss.”

“YOU'RE STILL BANNED, [NAME].”

“GET VORED BY THE STATUE.”

“WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS.”

“I really hope I get that job so I can buy that shirt that says [_______] I've been wanting.”

“No, the part with the ice caves, before you meet Furry McFuckgoat.”

“While that is a very metal fucking way to die -- it also seems extremely uncomfortable.”

“I was surprised there wasn't anything supernatural... or weird. I mean besides the exploding mummies.”

“WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THOSE GOLEM POSERS.”

“What a dick! Making me throw that grenade without meaning to!”

“You know I just shot him... a clip full... in the dick. I didn't mean to but... it happened.” ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Have a grenade.”

“Yeah you're not allowed up here. You have a ______. We don't serve your kind here.”

“New user -- who dis”

“I might regret this decision later.”

“[Name], please, stop playing peek-a-boo.”

“That dead guy just... waves goodbye as he ragdolls.”

“I HAVE REGRETS.”

“You know what, just as well. I have regrets. I didn't mean to throw that grenade.”

“PANICKING. PANICKING.”

“THINK YOU'RE FUCKING FANCY WITH YOUR ROLLING?”

“Okay that guy was defying gravity for a while there, that was kinda weird.”

“YOU'RE NOT FANCY-- Oh my god he twirled.”

“I FOUND WHAT I WANT.” *runs*

“REGRETS. Aaaah, regrets. A lot of regrets.”

“That death twitch... as seen on Twitch TV.”

“Little man, compensating much.”

“Right in the Shnoz.”

“ZIG ZAG, ZIG ZAG.”

“I DON'T THINK ZIG ZAG WORKS WITH MILITARY RPGS.”

“Make-up still on point. Hair still flawless.”

“LAMINATE YOUR FUCKING MAP. ITS RAINING. IS THAT MAP EVEN RELIABLE AT THIS POINT.”

“Where would you laminate a map in ______? What do you think there's a Kinkos around the corner?

“GOD IDK, BUT PUT IT IN SOMETHING MORE WATERPROOF THAN YOUR ASS POCKET.”

“Oh man that is the best twirl I have ever seen.”

“Fab. He practiced.”

“I just had to process Impressed because I heard it as Imp Breasts.”

“Drama queen. Fucking clutching his chest to die. Just ragdoll like everyone else.”

“Hey, what has more brains than the gunmen right now? The wall behind them.”

"[that didn't attract too much attention] YOU RAN A TRAIN THROUGH A BUILDING.”

“I am just a soggy man.”

“I have water logged fingers.”

“Yeah. YEAH. I forgot about these actually. Ah... ha ha... I forgot about these...” *cries*

“Her tits are always bigger from the side. The fuck is with that. They never the same size either. Watch. Watch them titties grow.”

“All Aboard the Pain Train.”

“Push your ass off the train-- BYE.”

“REALLY. YOU-- who has the strength of a shit ton of fucking monkeys... can't kick that through?”

“My heart just did A Thing at being called [they].”

“I never actually see the scenery on this train because I'm always dying.”

“BANE OF MY EXISTENCE RIGHT HERE. Guess my streak of Not Dying is gonna end right here.”

“AAH I ALMOST DIED-- I almost died there too.”

“SPLAT.”

“Railroaded.”

“Oh, I'm gonna have to fight a big guy. I really-- please don't make me fight a big guy.”

“Damn he thicc.”

“Here, its a present~” *throws a grenade*

“I think they want a receipt for their present so they can return it.”

“Bye-- I think that was a dick shot.”

“I love the sound of glass breaking.”

“I missed...” *tsk* “That's a problem.”

“Hey. For stress relief, fling yourself. Right there. To the left.”

“LAAAAAAAAUNCH.”

“Just fucking launch into oblivion for stress relief.”

“I just ate someone else’s half eaten burger like the trash goblin I am.”

“I am both mildly disgusted with myself and yet satisfied because it was a good burger.”

“Oblivion is to the left. Just launch into it. Embrace it. Fly like the majestic fucking eagle you are.”

*singing* “Life... hates me. I hate life.”

“Did he just die crab walking.”

“Died doing what he loved. Being a crab. Snip snap.”

“Am I the only one here who sees perfect opportunities to fling myself off a cliff and actually does it?”

*whimpers* “WELLIguessitwasallfornothingbecausenowIhavetodiebecausethisasshole--”

“That's the sound of when you get your ass shredded.”

“Good lord--”

“Shredded Wheat [name]s.”

“I hope if I ever die by gun, its to one of those. I wanna look and feel like swiss cheese.”

“You gonna one-punch fuck me like jason borne?”

“ONE PAAAUUUUUUUUNCH.”

“FUCK I got stuck in the wall...”

“HOW THICK THAT DUDES ARMS ARE.”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME I was trying to get away from you.”

“That cat is looking at me like [Why are you yelling so much?]”

“Man you eat more bullets than dogs in Resident Evil.”

“Fuck my life, Terminator.”

“That's not his liver...”

“That's totally his liver.”

“Well that's what you get for not paying for your train ticket.”

“Train stops here.”

“Guess they got... sidetracked.”

“You could say he's got a one-track mind.”

“You could say its been derailed.”

“I don't think this is the best train of thought for this situation.”

"I think I can, I think I can...”

“YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE, SNEAKING UP ON ME LIKE THAT.”

“I hope I took them out wiTH MY DEATH.”

“Fucking gave him a sliding icy nut shot.”

“Packed some powder onto those donut holes.”

“I didn't say I was coming naked to this place.”

“Just barrel roll over a fucking corpse it coo'l.”

“Where do these fuckers get grenades at like... they need to shove their grenades up their ass.”

“I don't know what the fuck you think you saw but it wasn't me.”

*Hands you voreos*

“Get out of here with your voreos.”

#RP Prompt #crack #*jazz hands*#lookit me #makin' my own RP prompts

4 notes · View notes

mamaredd123 · 7 years

Text

A Sign From Above

A/N: So this is my unbelievably late entry for @sdavid09 ‘s “What If..” Challenge. (Can’t tell you enough how sorry I am for being this late Shanna!) I also threw in for @chaos-and-the-calm67 , Bev’s 80′s Writing Challenge.

My prompts were:

‘What if Dean was late for a very important business meeting because someone re-ended Baby?’

What About Love by Heart

This is an Au but I just didn’t really know how to classify this one. LOL Anyways, hope you ladies enjoy what I came up with and as always, feedback is welcomed!

PAIRING: Dean x Reagan (OFC)

WARNING: None

WORD COUNT: 1809

Mama’s Master List

Click here to add yourself to my Forever Tags. If you can’t use Google Doc, just shoot me a message and I will add you

Dean tossed a pile of magazines on the floor as he frantically hunted through the living room searching for his car keys.

Damn it. Of all mornings for me to lose them, he mumbled to himself as he shoved a jacket he had absentmindedly tossed on the coffee table out of the way.

He continued flinging and chucking things out of his way as he tore the living room apart. The clock was ticking away on him and he was beginning to get desperate. Glancing at his watch, he saw he was down to twenty minutes left. He could not miss this meeting!

He paused, took a deep breath, and tried to calm his mind for a second. As he glanced around at the mess he had made, he let out a sigh of relief as he spotted his keys lying on the bar that divided the room from the kitchen. He hastily snatched them up and took off at a jog to his car. As he approached his car and climbed in, he went through a mental checklist, praying he had not forgotten anything.

Dean set his briefcase on the seat beside him and pulled out his phone. Trying to prepare, he had already programed the address into his GPS so now all he had to do was pull it up. Once the phone started telling him to turn left in point one mile, he set his phone on the clip that was velcroed to his dash and started off. His nerves were already stretched to the max and this delay, because of his forgetfulness, only made things worse this morning.

Two years now he had been working on this business plan. He poured blood, sweat, and tears into researching the best piece of property, gotten the best bid for the construction crew to build, had all his product pricing, statistics, timelines, everything he could think of to persuade the bank to loan him the money. His whole life he had dreamed of owning his own bar and today was the day he was going to make it come true.

His phone seemed to yell at him to take a right turn pulling him from his thoughts. Dean quickly turned at the corner. It wasn’t forty feet on the new street, however, when he felt someone run into him. His eyes flashed to his rear view mirror and he saw an old GMC Sierra practically sitting on his bumper.

Great! This is just what I fucking need this morning, he growled to himself as he eased the Impala to the side of the road.

Putting her in park, he opened the door and climbed out. The truck was just edging up behind him as he neared the rear of his car. He never saw the truck as he turned a few minutes ago, so he was sure that this would end up being his fault. However, he needed to get this done and over with as soon as possible. Looking at his watch he saw he was down to fifteen minutes to reach the bank.

The truck door opened and the first thing he noticed was the long, tan legs that stretched out to reach the ground. The truck was jacked up a bit so the driver had to jump down a little as she exited. The door closed and Dean breath stopped. She was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. He watched as she walked towards him, taking in every detail. He felt like her smile was literally warming his soul.

“Geeze, I am so sorry I hit you. I don’t know what happened,” she said as she reached him with her hand out. “My name is Reagan by the way.”

“Dean,” he replied, shaking her hand. “Dean Winchester.”

“Nice to meet you and shit, well, I am very sorry. Did I do much damage?”

“Damage?” he asked, realizing he had not even stopped to look and see yet.

Quickly, he spun around and looked at Baby. Yep, there was a couple of dents in her, nothing that he didn’t think he could handle though.

“Um, well, there’s a few dents but nothing major,” he replied to her earlier question as he turned back around.

“So, you want to call the cops and get an accident report or what?”

“I would really rather not, if that’s good with you. I am kind of really late for an important meeting this morning.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaimed. “I was praying you didn’t want to get the cops involved. I can’t afford another fender bender on my record.”

He stood there listening to her laugh. It sounded like music to his ears.

“Do you want to exchange numbers and insurance and all that good shit?” Reagan asked him.

“Sure. That sounds good,” Dean answered. Slowly, he turned around and grabbed his information out of the car. By the time he was back at her truck she was already waiting with her information and paper and pen.

Dean couldn’t help himself, he just kind of stood there watching her as she copied their information, twice. He listened to her ramble on about how her morning had been crazy. He wanted to chime in on the conversation, tell her his had been just as crazy, but he just stood there like some school boy. Then she kind of jumped and started talking about her crazy friend who had some kind of boyfriend drama. She was talking a mile a minute and Dean realized he loved listening to her.

“I really hope you won’t be late for your meeting,” she told him as she handed him a copy of her information.

“My meeting. Damn it,” he exclaimed as looked at his watch. “Shit, yea. I gotta run. I have less than ten minutes now to get there.”

“Ok, well sorry again and please call me an let me know what the damages are. I promise I will cover them.” Reagan said, smiling at him.

Part of him was reluctant to leave her but the other side knew he had to get going.

“Yea, I will. I will call you as soon as I have something.”

“Ok. Great. So I guess until then try to have a good day, huh?” she said, giggling.

“Yea, you too.”

She spun around on her heel and took off to her truck. Hesitantly, Dean turned around and walked back to the Impala. As he climbed in, he watched her through the rear view mirror. She was all smiles as she threw up a hand and waved to him before she eased back out into traffic. He waved back as she passed him. Looking down at the paper she had given him, he smiled to himself and tucked it away in his jacket pocket before cranking his own car.

------

“Congratulations Mr. Winchester. It’s going to be a pleasure doing business with you.”

Dean was all smiles as he reached for the outstretched hand and shook it. Picking up all the paperwork, he thanked the loan officer and headed out the door. As the sunlight reached his face, he could help but think what a great day it had turned out to be despite such a horrible morning.

He approached his car and climbed in, still smiling. He had done it. He was going to own his own bar! It was going to be the best on this town had ever seen. Practically giddy with excitement, he made himself calm down a bit. First thing he had to do was call his relator. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, the piece of paper fluttered down in his lap. He picked it up and reread the writing. This only made him smile even harder. Tucking it back away he quickly dialed the number and started talking as he made his way back home.

By the time he pulled into his driveway, he had everything in motion. Thanks to some careful planning and foresight, his bid for the property had already been accepted. He would sign the paperwork day after tomorrow. The contractors were ready to start work. A quick call to them and everything was ready to start come Monday morning. Picking up his briefcase and the paperwork from the bank, he headed in the house.

As he entered the living room to set his stuff on the bar, he was reminded of the mess he had left this morning in his rush. Chuckling to himself, he walked over and poured a shot of bourbon and then picked up the remote to his stereo. FM106.9 came blaring across the surround sound with the music of Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven. He drank the shot of bourbon and began humming along with the music, singing along occasionally to the other songs that played as he cleaned up his mess.

“... Yes, I am already standing on the ground,” Dean hummed and sang along to the Eagles as he plopped down on the couch. Taking a sip from his glass while the commercial played, he pulled out the paper from his jacket pocket. Reagan. After taking another sip, he leaned his head back and thought about their encounter.

She had been gorgeous but it was something else about her. Whatever it was, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way she smiled at him. The way she talked to him like she already knew him, not some stranger she had just rear ended. But she did say she couldn’t afford another accident so maybe she had just gotten good at things like that.

Hell, he thought to himself, maybe it’s just because he hadn’t had a date in over two years now. This bar had been his whole life lately. He hadn’t had time for his friends or family, much less a relationship.

‘I’ve been lonely, I’ve been waitin’ for you

I’m pretendin’ and that’s all I can do

The love I’m sendin’

Ain’t makin’ it through to your heart

You’ve been hidin’, and never lettin’ it show

Always tryin’ to keep it under control

You got it down and you’re well on your way to the top

But there’s somethin’ that you forgot

What about love?

Don’t you want someone to care about you?

What about love?

Don’t let it slip away’

He almost laughed to himself as he sat there listening to Heart play out across the room. Of all the oldies that the station could have played at that moment and that was the one that came on. Shaking his head a little, he glanced upwards and then nodded his head.

“Ok, I hear you.”

Not knowing how to take that anyway other than a sign from above, he picked up his phone and dialed her number. Who knew? Maybe it really would be a sign.

Forever Peeps: @megansescape @madamelibrarian @chelsea072498 @jayankles @feelmyroarrrr @docharleythegeekqueen @crowleysdemonknight @motleymoose @sumara62 @mrstheorossix3 @evansrogerskitten @waywardjoy @dwaynii @jensen-jarpad @deathtonormalcy56 @ruprecht0420 @charliebradbury1104 @relmi-llorrac @wonderange @sandlee44 @tom-is-in-my-tardis @kmb99t @summer-binging-spn @posiemax @ohmychuckitssamanddean @thedevilinthedetails @bohowitch @tmccarney @dragon-tail @suli155 @mrsbatesmotel53 @petrovadixon @thewalkingmombie @mogaruke @spontaneousam @uniquewerewolfsuit @firstlady36 @goldenolaf25 @lunarsaturn88 @spn-hetalian-from-Hogwarts @carribear31 @captainemwinchester @watercolor31 @sea040561 @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel

Random Tags (just tagging a few of you who used to be on my Forever Tags): @babypieandwhiskey @impala-dreamer @frenchybell @idreamofhazel @nichelle-my-belle @moonlitskinwalker @redlipstickandplaid @taste-of-dean @avasmommy224 @you-are-not-in-my-contacts-list @p-b-and-cas @supernatural-jackles @treasurecastiel @calicat79 @beccafgs @mysteriouslyme81 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @sis-tafics @benjerry707 @impalaimagining @sdavid09 @meganlpie @whispersandwhiskerburn @authoressskr @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @beccatigger @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @buckysmetallicstump @breeannhausler @sazrahlovesbooks @unfortunately-a @clinicalkayla @maddieburcham1 @ilostmyshoe-79 @roxy-davenport @eve05glee @jensenacklesfuckmeyes @ladyxdezi @catackles16 @wi-deangirl77 @dang-meddling-Winchesters @donnaintx @jdhillons @tiffanycaruso @pureawesomeness001 @notateenbeachmovie @deanlovespiebabyandmeloljkiwish @omgspnfanfiction @leonepanda @grimes-ft-winchester @thatshellfiredean @deanandsamsbitch @straitsupernaturalmalefan @farewellsanity @lauramerrell1 @trustnobodyshootfirst @doro7winchester @mariairwin666 @tankcupcakes @atc74 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @iwantthedean @paintrider13-blog @d-s-winchester @death2thevirgin @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @ellen-reincarnated1967 @just-another-busy-fangirl @waywardjoy @winchesterprincessbride

#a sign from above #taleteller's what if challenge #Bev's 80's Writing Challenge #dean winchester #Dean x OFC

20 notes · View notes

junker-town · 5 years

Text

5 moves we’re rooting for at the NFL trade deadline

Photo by Andy Lyons/Getty Images

Free A.J. Green from the Bengals and let Melvin Gordon get a fresh start.

For years, the NFL’s trade deadline was just another day. A lack of in-season deals made the league’s wheeling-and-dealing cutoff date pale in comparison to the frenzy of action the NBA and MLB typically saw.

But teams have been more active than ever the past few seasons, and 2019 has seen a flurry of trade activity in the run-up to Oct. 29. The Rams traded Marcus Peters and brought in Jalen Ramsey. The Patriots addressed their impending loss of Josh Gordon by freeing Mohamed Sanu from the Falcons’ sinking ship. The Broncos dealt away their previous season’s leading wideout for the second straight year.

That won’t be all. Plenty of big names are on the trading block with teams skidding toward mediocrity (or worse), and wide open playoff races in both conferences should leave no shortage of buyers. Players like A.J. Green, Melvin Gordon, and Chris Harris are all entering the final year of their contracts on teams whose postseason hopes range from “pretty bad” to “haaaaaaaaa.” They could find new life with new homes — but where?

We’ve got some ideas.

The Bills liberate WR A.J. Green from the Bengals

Green is 31 years old, has yet to play in 2019 thanks to an ankle injury and, because he has never played an NFL game as anything other than a Bengal, has no idea how to celebrate a playoff victory. And he could be just the thing that makes the rest of the NFL world take Buffalo seriously.

Green, even at 80 percent of his peak performance, would be the best wideout to play in western New York since Andre Reed ruled Orchard Park (sorry, Eric Moulds fans). While the transition from Andy Dalton to Josh Allen may be a step down for the seven-time Pro Bowler, he’d be a boon for a Bills offense in desperate need of consistency in its passing game. Injuries have limited Green’s impact the past four years — he’s played 35 of a possible 55 games since 2016 — but his on-field impact in that span is still elite. He’s averaged 85 catches, 1,251 yards, and eight touchdowns per 16 games in those seasons.

He’d also play a major role in helping an inconsistent quarterback who still needs signal-boosting weapons. Allen has had his share of bad games in 2019, but he has improved slightly after a trying rookie season, going from awful to mediocre (at least in terms of pure passing numbers) in the process.

An upgraded cast of receiving talent has helped push his completion rate from 52.8 percent in 2018 to 62.4 percent this fall, and he’s also showcased improved accuracy. His on-target throw rate has gone from 63.1 to 66.1 percent. Though that last number ranks 32nd among qualified QBs, it’s still slightly higher than Dalton’s rate so far.

Adding Green would allow top targets Cole Beasley and John Brown to take on the complementary roles for which they’re better suited. He’d also take defensive pressure away from rookie tight end Dawson Knox, who looks like he could be a big piece of the team’s future moving forward. Though Buffalo may not be high on Green’s wish list, he’d have a chance to step right in and make a major impact for a team in dire need of a playmaker. — Christian D’Andrea

Get Kyler Murray some protection in the form of Trent Williams

I’m not sure if Trent Williams wants to go to a team that isn’t expected to make the playoffs this season, but the Cardinals certainly have a better chance at competing in the near future than Washington does. More importantly, they have a young, promising head coach-quarterback combo in Kliff Kingsbury and Kyler Murray.

We’ve already seen Murray improve this season, but that progress can easily be halted by an offensive line that simply isn’t holding up. Arizona has allowed Murray to be sacked 23 times this season, which puts him firmly in the top 10 of most sacked quarterbacks this season.

Murray is raw, but extremely active in the pocket. He needs some more protection so his rookie campaign isn’t derailed, and he’ll need help beyond this season. Williams has been named to the Pro Bowl for seven straight seasons and the left tackle clearly has a few good years left in him. I don’t know if he wants to spend them helping a young team become competitive, but if he’s open to it, then I think the deal makes perfect sense.

It would do a lot not just for the Cardinals offense, but for Murray’s confidence. And it’d free Williams from Washington. — James Brady

Give the Eagles some cornerback help by picking up Chris Harris Jr.

Philadelphia has been ravaged by injuries at the corner position pretty much all season. with Avonte Maddox, Ronald Darby, Jalen Mills, and Sidney Jones all missing time. The Eagles signed back Orlando Scandrick to help out. That didn’t last long, as Scandrick was soon released and went all scorched earth on the way out.

The Eagles could use all the help they can get at cornerback. Philly’s defense is allowing 271 pass yards per game (27th in the NFL), and the problems in the secondary are evident. This clip from their blowout loss to the Dallas Cowboys sums up the unit in a nutshell:

Amari Cooper sends Rasul Douglas to another world with his patented sluggo. my god, amari pic.twitter.com/5lNrOmoiTT

— Austin Gayle (@PFF_AustinGayle) October 21, 2019

The Eagles need lockdown corner and already missed out on Jalen Ramsey. So how about Chris Harris Jr. from Denver? The four-time Pro Bowl corner has 19 total tackles and an interception so far this season, and has only allowed one touchdown. He’s also versatile and can play either outside or as a slot corner.

The Broncos aren’t going anywhere this season and Harris will be a free agent in 2020. They could at least get something for him from Philadelphia, which desperately needs a boost in the secondary to compete for the NFC East title, even if it’s only for the rest of the season. — Morgan Moriarty

Let Melvin Gordon start fresh with the Bears

This has not been a banner year for Melvin Gordon. First, he decided to hold out in hopes of receiving a lucrative new contract. When he and the Chargers didn’t make any progress in negotiations, Gordon requested a trade. When that didn’t materialize, Gordon ended his two-month absence. With his return, Gordon wanted to prove his worth to the Chargers (or another team) in the final year of his contract.

Yet, ever since Gordon entered the lineup in Week 5, he’s looked far removed from his Pro Bowl season a year ago. In three games, Gordon has gained just 81 yards on 36 attempts. The Chargers are 0-3 in that span, and the offense has been decidedly better with Austin Ekeler as the main back. You could even argue that the Chargers going away from Ekeler in favor of Gordon is what cost them a win against the Titans.

Gordon has admitted he wouldn’t miss training camp again, but it’s already tough enough for running backs to get paid, and it’s not like he forgot how to play football during his holdout. At this point, though, a new start might be his best chance to boost his confidence and show he still deserves top money.

The Bears would be an ideal landing spot. Their running game has been sluggish all season, ranking near the bottom of the league in rushing yards (420), yards per carry (3.4), and rushing touchdowns (two).

Bringing Gordon into the fold would take less pressure off David Montgomery and allow the rookie to work as part of a 1-2 running back punch. Gordon’s presence could also let speedy Tarik Cohen be more effective in his role as a change-of-pace back and receiving weapon.

Most importantly, Gordon would be a security blanket for the struggling Mitchell Trubisky. The Bears’ third-year quarterback needs all the help he can get, whether that’s a steady ground game or another target he can dump the ball off to. Gordon can do both. He has totaled at least 400 receiving yards for three straight seasons, and his only touchdown so far this year has come through the air.

Chicago needs just a little more production from its offense to get back into playoff contention. Then, it can let the defense do the rest. — Sarah Hardy

Von Miller could fill the Terrell Suggs-sized hole in Baltimore

Three years ago, Von Miller recorded 2.5 sacks in the AFC Championship Game to help lead the Broncos to a 20-18 win over the Patriots. Two weeks later, he had another 2.5 sacks in a 24-10 win over the Panthers that earned him Super Bowl MVP honors.

That’s the last time Miller played in the postseason.

The Denver offense has dragged down the defense for a few years now, and there’s still more roster repair left to do. Miller is 30 and wasting quality pass-rushing seasons while the Broncos struggle to figure out a way to score points.

If a team is willing to step up and offer the Broncos a lot for Miller, Denver could get pieces to speed along that rebuild. Even better, it could dodge the final two years of the pricy six-year, $114.1 million extension Miller signed in 2016.

Baltimore should be the team to step up to the plate. The Ravens only have 12 sacks through the first seven games of the season. Terrell Suggs, who is somehow still going strong in his 17th NFL season, has five sacks for the Cardinals — one more than any player on the Ravens.

The team isn’t afraid to make a splash. The Ravens reportedly made a significant offer to acquire Jalen Ramsey, but came up short. They have the draft capital to acquire Miller and a willingness to push their chips to the center of the table with a lead in the AFC North.

The tricky part would be fitting Miller’s contract under the salary cap for the remainder of the 2019 season. The Ravens have room in 2020, but they’d have to make some moves to clear space for Miller. If Baltimore can make it work, it’d be great to see Miller back on a team with a chance at winning something. — Adam Stites

0 notes