#*booming voice* Guillermo

[beansprean]

Ghost Memo, watching Nadja about to scrub a 273-year-old wool rug with a wet mop coated in bleach and guano: No no no no no

ANYWAY this is my official season 5 wishful thinking AU, it's not going to be a formal comic timeline like my other stuff but I’m a little obsessed with it! Anything about it will be tagged #MFG s5 au

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. The house, exterior, night. Lower third reading “vampire residence”. A speech bubble from within the house cries out, “Ay, fucking- Nadja!” 1b. Full body of Nadja slumped in a an armchair in her and Laszlo’s crypt, a magazine featuring scantily clad women laid open on her lap. The same voice comes from offscreen: “Nadja! You know the rules! You drink it, you clean it!” Nadja groans loudly, head tipping back against the back of the chair, arms and legs hanging limply toward the floor, and grumbles, “Bossy fucking pig-brain…” 1c. Shot from the main foyer of the house as Nadja descends the stairs. Nandor is in the fancy room in the background, talking to the camera with a boom mic positioned above his head. Nadja sticks her tongue out in his direction as she passes. Nandor is saying, “No, I do not miss Guillermo. He made his choices. But now we all must contribute to the household until we can find a replacement familiar.”

2a. Nadja stands in the hallway, straddling the rug with hands on her hips as she glares down at a large half-dry bloodstain on the rug. A mop in a bucket of dirty water sits beside her, and Nandor’s voice is filtering in from the hallway, continuing, “Of course I am looking! Just… no one has been quite right!” 2b. Close up on the bucket, filled to the brim with bloody muddy water, as Nadja lifts the equally gross mop out of it, grumbling, “Treating me like a fucking washerwoman… not even in a sexy way…” 2c. Nadja turns back towards the stain, mop in hand, and stares down in shock when the rug appears to now be perfectly clean. 2d. Nadja snarls and throws the filthy mop angrily down at the rug with a wet splat, screaming “Fucking witches!”

3a. Close up on Nandor back in the fancy room, doing his talking head. He grimaces and picks at his fingers nervously, glancing away as he says “My reading? Uhh… it has been going very well. I have opened so many books...” From offscreen, Nadja yells “Nandor!” 3b. Shot from Nandor’s other side, framing Nadja in the doorway to the foyer. On the wall to the left there is a painting of “The Girl With The Pearl Earring” starring Laszlo. Nadja glares at Nandor with hands on hips and asks angrily, “Nandor, did you send the witches tainted fucking semens?” Nandor leans forward in his chair to face her, the camera on him also swinging over to get her in the shot. He replies, offended, “Of course not, I make only the best semens and Colin Robinson delivered my glorious seed to the witches just last week!” Nadja fires back “Well, you bloody donkeys must have done something, because they have cursed the fucking house!” 3c. Close up on the doorway, Nandor suddenly standing up in the corner and echoing, “Cursed?!” in fear. Laszlo sidles up to Nadja’s side, asking, “Cursed how, my dulcet darling?” Arms crossed defiantly, Nadja replies, “A cleaning curse! This is the third time I have gone to clean and the mess has disappeared on its own!”

4a. Nandor and Nadja in profile, divided by the doorway with Nandor still standing in the fancy room and Nadja in the hall. Laszlo is leaning on the door frame facing the viewer, hands casually in his pockets. He glances up at Nandor with one eyebrow raised as Nandor, looking confused, and Nadja, looking defiant, stare each other down. 4b. Nandor raises his eyebrows and folds his hands outward, placatingly, replying, “Okay…?” Laszlo grins up at his wife and says, “Sounds like a bloody good curse to me!” Nadja unfolds her arms and chops them through the air, glaring at the ceiling in exasperation as she declares, “There’s no such thing as good curses!” 4c. Close up on Laszlo in the doorway as Colin Robinson suddenly pops in from the hall, leaning in close as he throws out, “Maybe we’ve got ghosts again!” Laszlo leans away from him slightly in surprise, smile dropping. 4d. Return to previous shot. Nadja turns toward Colin, throwing out her arms angrily as she asks, “Why would a ghost want to clean our house?!” Nandor rolls his eyes upward, throwing out his own arms as he echoes, “Why would witches?!” Colin just smiles indulgently, enjoying the chaos. Laszlo hunches his shoulders uncomfortably in the doorframe, frowning as he looks away toward the fancy room.

5a. Close up on Nandor puffing himself up with superiority, hands imperiously planted on his hips as he begins, “Nadja, if you do not want to do your part of the chores-“ Nadja interrupts from offscreen, “Oh, blow it out your loose, hairy arsehole, Nandor!” The camera and boom are in view behind Nandor, eagerly recording the scene. 5b. Back in profile, Nandor leaning toward Nadja and echoing “Loose?!” in an offended way. Nadja leans right back in his space, spitting angrily, “If you would stop dragging your big, stupid feet about finding a new familiar, I wouldn’t have any bloody chores!” Nandor stutters back, “I-I am still making inquiries; it’s an important decision!” Behind them, Colin is leaning comfortably on the side of the doorframe, hands laced together in front of him and smiling as his eyes glow purple behind his glasses. Laszlo has turned to leave the frame, walking into the fancy room.

6a. Shot of the foyer from the doorway as Nadja marches away across the hall, throwing her arms up angrily as she declares, “Oh, whatever! Don’t blame me when you wake up without your testicles!” The paintings in the foyer include a vampire version of “The Scream” and a version of “American Gothic” with Nadja and Laszlo. In the foreground, Nandor stares after her with a grimace, muttering, “Fucking girl…” Colin turns toward Nandor, smiling, and prompts, “Hey Nandor, tell me more about all the books you’ve been reading.” 6b. Nadja, now alone, slumps into a high-backed chair in the library with her arms crossed, pouting at nothing. Behind her is a dilapidated side table carrying a few unlit candles and an overturned goblet crusted with blood. There are a few canvases tucked behind Nadja’s chair including one that appears to be a version of “The Creation of Adam” with Laszlo as Adam and Nadja as God, surrounded by bats.

7a. Close up on Nadja’s face in profile as she snarls and mutters to herself, “Stupid bloody men, never fucking listening to me…” 7b. Repeat of previous panel. Nadja’s eye widen in shock, mouth snapping tightly closed as a voice offscreen replies, “Tell me about it.”

8a. Bird’s eye view of Nadja sitting up in her chair with mouth agape, hands gripping the arms, and staring upward toward the ceiling. The edge of a familiar face is in the foreground, glowing with a bluish-green light. Nadja calls out instinctively, “What?!” 8b. Nadja repeats “What?!” even louder as we see what she sees: Guillermo, glowing bluish green, floating near the ceiling and absently cleaning a large portrait on the wall with a rag and unlabeled spray bottle. He is wearing the same sweater from the season 4 finale. Ghost Guillermo looks over his shoulder to meet Nadja’s eyes, surprised. 8c. Overlapping close ups of Guillermo and Nadja as he turns toward her fully, eyes wide and flushed with excitement as he cries, “Wait…Nadja, you can see me?!” Nadja stares back at him mutely in horror. In the bottom right corner is text reading “to be continued…?”

9. In the style of a movie poster. Ghost Guillermo, wearing that same sweater and a ghostly tail instead of legs, takes up the center of the frame, glowing in hues of blue, green, and purple. He has a feather duster held up in one hand and is holding the forefinger of the other to his open lips in a shushing gesture. Behind him in the top right is the vampire residence at a low dramatic angle, red door glowing angrily as light night strikes the sky beyond. Just below is a bust of Derek in his work clothes, looking up at Ghost Guillermo with a nervous smile. In the top left is a bust of Vampire Guillermo, wearing a red waistcoat and no glasses, scowling over his shoulder at his ghost self. Behind him, a silver crucifix with a broken chain floats past. At the bottom, Nadja, Laszlo, Colin Robinson, and Nandor stand waist-up in a row looking up at Ghost Guillermo. Nadja is grinning in excitement, Laszlo looks something between bored and concerned, Colin looks uncertain, and Nandor looks distraught and worried, wringing his hands together. The tagline is written in ghostly blue: “moving out… doesn’t mean moving on!”, and the title is listed at the bottom in dripping red font: “My Familiar’s Ghost”. At the bottom further text reads “coming October 2022” and “created by beansprean”. /end ID

#WWDITS #nandermo #nadja of antipaxos #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #ghost Guillermo #vampire Guillermo #laszlo cravensworth #colin robinson #mlm #blood tw #what we do in the shadows fx #what we do in the shadows #my familiars ghost #my art #fanart #image described

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 276. brb x oc

a/n: apologies for the short chapter. I'm s i c k SO KACNKWJNDKJ (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/253/254/255/256/257/258/259/260/261/262/263/264/265/266

/267/268/269/270/271/272/273/274/275

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-

As Beatrice lay in the dark room, the pounding in her head seemed unrelenting. It was as if a relentless drumbeat was playing in her skull, and she longed for some respite. The cozy cocoon of her blankets provided some comfort, but the pain was persistent.

Downstairs, the voices of her brothers and Rooster were a distant hum. Beatrice tried to listen in but found it difficult to concentrate. She strained her ears, wondering if their conversation would shed light on how Rooster's day at the base had gone. It was one of the small pleasures she looked forward to, hearing about his day and how everyone was too.

She heard Michael's booming laughter and imagined him regaling Rooster with one of his outlandish stories. Michael's voice was always a force of nature, capable of filling any room with mirth and energy.

Leonardo's voice, on the other hand, was mellower and more measured. Beatrice knew he was the one who often offered advice and a calming influence to the group. She appreciated how he could balance out Michael's over-the-top enthusiasm.

Guillermo had a deep, resonant voice that carried wisdom and authority even when he wasn’t planning to. She often joked that his voice vibrated the walls every time.

Despite the warmth coming from downstairs, Beatrice couldn't shake her migraine. She'd tried to rest and hoped that the pain would subside, but it remained stubborn. The darkness of the room was her only solace, shielding her eyes from the piercing light that often exacerbated her condition.

She covers her head with the blanket, the fabric muffling the voices downstairs and making it hard for her to understand - even more - what was being said. She does however, feel footsteps walking past her bedroom to Nicole’s nursery then go back to their door. A gentle creak as it opened and a voice, a voice she adored, spoke, “Baby?’ Rooster calls, “You alright?”

With a soft sigh, Beatrice slowly pushed the blanket away from her face. The relief from the darkness was immediate, and the throbbing in her head seemed to lessen just a tiny bit. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the soft light filtering through the curtains. Then, she whispered, "I'm here, Roos. Just a little headache."

The doorknob turned, and Rooster entered the room. His face lit up with concern as he approached the bed. "Baby, your brothers said you’ve been resting here for a while. Are you sure you're okay?"

She offered a reassuring smile, though her eyes still held traces of discomfort. "I'm sure, Roos. It's just a minor headache, probably from the long day. I’m okay.”

Rooster bent down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "You are kinda warm, you had any meds?" 

"I took something earlier, Roos, but it hasn't really kicked in yet. I'll be fine, though."

Rooster leaned closer, brushing a lock of hair away from her face with his fingers. "I hate seeing you in pain, Bea. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

She placed her hand on his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Your presence is already making me feel better, Roos. Just being with you helps ease the discomfort."

Rooster's lips curled into a gentle smile as he continued to caress her hair. "I'm glad I could provide some comfort, baby. You know, I don't like it when you're not feeling your best. I wish I could take your pain away."

Beatrice's eyes locked onto Rooster's, her cheeks turning red and her cheek pressed tighter to his hand "I know you do, Roos, and I appreciate it more than words can express. But it’s okay."

Rooster leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. When he pulled away, he spoke in a hushed, caring tone. "You sure you don’t need anything?"

She sighs softly, falling back on the bed, “I’m sure…I think I might just nap a little bit more…I dunno if I can go to the Hard Deck tonight.” she mutters, feeling a bit disappointed when she said that, playing with her hands on the blanket, “Can you…call Penny and let her know?”

He nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and then smiling at her face, “Even sick you are beautiful. That’s not fair.” he says, then brings her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles, “Your brothers took good care of you,hm?”

She nestled into the bed a bit more comfortably, feeling the soft fabric of the blanket against her skin. "Thank you, Roos. And yes, my brothers have been looking out for me. They're the best." she pauses, “When they don’t go all overprotective over me.”

Rooster chuckled softly, his eyes filled with affection. "I'm glad they're here to take care of you, Bea. You're so precious to me, and knowing that you're in good hands eases my mind."

“How romantic,LC.” she whispers, fluttering her eyes, “Are they still here?”

“Yeah.”

“Mkay…” her eyes fall shut but she forces them open again, “Are you…how was…your day? Was it good?”

"It was a typical day on the base, baby. I had my usual meetings, pre-deployment preparations, and flight exercises. Nothing out of the ordinary, really." he didn’t feel like sharing that he and Mark talked.

Not now.

“Kay…” she whispers, letting her eyes fall shut, “I’m going…to sleep a bit more,alright?” and she doesn’t wait for him to reply, she just allows her body to relax and her breathing to go completely even.

Rooster observed her as she drifted into slumber, he couldn't help but feel a touch of helplessness seeing her in pain, but he knew that being there for her, even if it meant just keeping her company, was the best he could do. He gently placed a tender kiss on her forehead and whispered softly, "Rest well, gorgeous."

After some time, he carefully extricated himself from the bed, being sure not to wake Beatrice. He rose to his feet and tucked her in a bit more, ensuring she was comfortable. He gazed at his sleeping wife, smiled and then walked out of the room.

His brothers in law were still downstairs and Michael had Nicole on his shoulders - the toddler nomming his hair and he didn’t care one bit - “Hey,” he says, ‘How’s she?”

Rooster pursed his lips and walked up to Michael, gently picking Nicole from his head and letting her hug his neck, “She’s tired, sleeping again. This migraine really hit her hard…she didn’t, you know, throw up or anything,right?”

Guillermo shook his head, “No, she mainly slept and had lunch, then went back to sleep.’ he crosses his arms over his huge chest, “She needs to rest and heal.”

Rooster held Nicole close, his daughter's small body wrapped in his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to her tiny hand, smiling at the way she just touched his face. "Thanks, guys," he said to his brothers-in-law, "She's still in pain, and I hate seeing her like this. But she's resting now, and I'm glad for that. Just hoping she gets better soon."

Leonardo added, "Don't worry, Rooster. She'll bounce back in no time."

He smiled then glanced at the clock on the wall. "I need to run out and grab some more pain relief medication for Bea. She's running low."

Guillermo nodded, understanding the urgency. "You go ahead, Roos. We'll watch over Nicole and make sure Beatrice gets some peace and quiet." he nods, “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks guys,I,” he looks down at his uniform, ‘I should change first,I just got back from the base after all.” he frowns, thinking that he should just go to the laundry room and get stuff there instead of going back to their bedroom so he wouldn’t wake Beatrice up.

-

The grocery store wasn’t packed, which was shocking considering this was the middle of the week and the Halloween decorations were already out. “Jesus,it’s july.” he mutters to himself, pushing the shopping cart forward as he wandered about the aisles. 

Beatrice’s meds were the first thing he got and now he was finding something to pamper her with. Maybe some flowers, some candy. He checks the packets for a little while then puts it back, “Cherry flavored stuff, I need cherry flavored stuff.”

As he strolled along the shelves, his mind was focused on finding the perfect treats for his wife. Cherry-flavored sweets were her favorite, and he was determined to indulge her. His eyes scanned the various candies, searching for the perfect cherry-flavored delights.

A few minutes of scrutinizing the options, Rooster finally settled on a mix of cherry-flavored candies. There were cherry-flavored hard candies, chewy gummies, and even some cherry-flavored chocolates. He couldn't wait to see the smile on Beatrice's face when he surprised her with the sweet treats.

With the candies safely in his cart, Rooster decided to move on to the next item on his list: flowers. He knew that Beatrice loved fresh flowers, and he wanted to pick out a beautiful bouquet for her. The floral section of the store beckoned to him, a vibrant splash of colors and fragrances.

Rooster perused the selection of flowers, carefully considering which ones would brighten up their home and make Beatrice's day even more special. He spotted a lovely arrangement of red and pink roses, their petals velvety and inviting. It seemed like a perfect choice – romantic and beautiful, just like his wife.

As he picked up the bouquet of roses and held it in his hands, Rooster couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. He imagined Beatrice's delight when she saw the beautiful flowers and the cherry-flavored candies. 

“Those are lovely flowers.”

He stares at nothing when he hears the voice, then he inhales for courage, “...Miranda.” he strains his smile, turning to look at her. “...hi…”

Miranda’s cart was full, almost exploding with things and she smirked at him, ‘Those are for Beatrice,” she gave him no time to reply, “Oh I always thought she’d be more of a lily type of girl, interesting that you chose roses.”

Was she going to always be this passive aggressive???

Rooster had to gather his composure quickly. Her presence never failed to put him on edge, but he knew he needed to keep a polite facade, especially since they were having a conversation in public.

He cleared his throat, offering a strained smile. "Yes, these are for Beatrice. She loves roses." Rooster didn't want to delve into the specifics of Beatrice's flower preferences with Miranda, nor did he feel the need to justify his choice.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, her expression giving nothing away. "Roses it is, then. I suppose everyone has their own taste when it comes to flowers."

Rooster felt a surge of irritation at her thinly veiled condescension, but he managed to maintain his politeness. "Yeeeep. "

Miranda glanced at the assortment of cherry-flavored candies in his cart. "I see you're also indulging Beatrice's sweet tooth."

Rooster decided to take the high road, not wanting to engage in any passive-aggressive exchange with Miranda. "Of course, it's a little treat to make her day special."

Miranda seemed to be enjoying the interaction, her tone light and teasing. "Well, it's essential to keep the spark alive in a relationship, isn't it?"

Rooster maintained his polite demeanor, although it was clear he was growing tired of the conversation. "Absolutely.”

Miranda tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "Speaking of romance, how are you and Beatrice enjoying your time together before your deployment?"

Rooster's irritation flared up. He wasn't comfortable discussing the intimate details of his relationship with Miranda, and he didn't appreciate her prying into his personal life. Still, he kept his tone even. "We're savoring every moment together, making the most of our time before I leave."

Miranda seemed pleased with herself, her eyes glittering with a hint of satisfaction. "That's wonderful. Oh I know I have such a hard time when Mark leaves, oh,” she shakes her head, “It’s so hard sometimes.” but something in her words felt…so off. So off.

"Deployments can be tough," he agreed, keeping his response general. "But they're also part of the job."

Miranda nodded, her expression seemingly empathetic. "Yes, it's a necessary sacrifice isn't it?"

‘...yes.”

“Oh, by the way,” she flicks her hand, ‘If Beatrice feels lonely these days when you are gone, do tell her to come over. I’d love some company.”

Doubtful.

Rooster couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Miranda's offer. It felt odd to him that she was being so friendly and seemingly understanding. After their previous encounters, this sudden change in tone was difficult to trust. "I'll keep that in mind."

Miranda smiled sweetly, her tone continuing to radiate artificial warmth. "Of course, anything to help a friend in need."

The whole conversation was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Rooster found himself itching to change the subject, to move away from this unsettling exchange. And his lips raised up in a way that could only be translated as ‘cringe’  "Well, I  uh…appreciate your concern, Miranda. We're just taking it one day at a time."

Miranda nodded, her gaze lingering on Rooster. "That's the best way to go about it, Bradley. I hope you both enjoy your time together." With that, she turned and continued down the aisle.

Rooster watched her for a moment, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. He wasn't sure what had prompted Miranda's sudden shift in behavior, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. 

And to meet her here? When he was shopping?

Also, why was she so bothered if he was buying his wife cherry flavored candy? That’s not her problem, “Fuckin’ weird woman.” he mutters to himself, watching her place even more stuff in her cart from a distance.

Rooster pushed his cart down the aisle, his focus returning to the task at hand – finding the items on their shopping list. He had a wife to pamper and he still wasn’t done.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

[randomvarious]

Prefuse-73 - "7th Message" Rapid Transit - A Chocolate Industries Compilation 2000 Trip Hop / IDM

Plays: ~100.1K on Spotify // ~6.2K on YouTube

It’s hard to find someone who’s been able to straddle the worlds of both hip hop and electronic music as naturally as Prefuse 73 has, but diversity has always seemed to have been key to Guillermo Scott Herren’s identity (a name that's undoubtedly a reference to famed New York street poet Gil Scott-Heron), whether it be his own ethnicity or his musical output. Born to a Catalan father and an Irish and Cuban mother, Herren was raised in Decatur, Georgia, a town just outside of Atlanta, where his adoptive mother forced him to learn multiple instruments. So, throughout his own upbringing, he took up violin, guitar, piano, and drums, became keen on hip hop, and also got into punk rock, thanks to his sister. 

And a mix of his eclectic tastes and musical talent led Herren to become one of hip hop music’s most progressive makers. Dissatisfied with conventionality, Herren, whose ears were more open to indie scenes and experimental sounds than most other hip hop junkies, found himself fusing hip hop ideas with other niche genres, and ending up with a totally unique thing. It would piss off the genre purists (”you got hip hop in my IDM!” / “you got IDM in my hip hop!”), but his innovation was undeniable. And although his first album as Prefuse 73, 2001′s Vocal Studies + Uprock Narratives, proved to be an abject commercial failure, it earned high praise from the vast majority of critics.

But between the releases of his October 2000 debut EP, Estrocaro, and that debut LP, Prefuse also contributed a song, "7th Message," to an excellently blended compilation of hip hop, trip hop, IDM, and glitch called Rapid Transit that was put out by electronic and Indie hip hop label Chocolate Industries. And while that song would serve as the album's tone-setting opener, it also ended up closing out Vocal Studies + Uprock Narratives the following year too, which was released on Warp Records.

Herren would become known for his unique style of sampling, by re-appropriating gobs of different hip hop lyrics into unintelligible abstractions that would act as jutting cogs in his beats rather than voices to complement them by. As one listens, they can’t help but follow the cadences and tones of the vocals; how the words actually sound as part of a beat’s fabric is far more important than what the words are saying themselves.

Now, normally, Herren likes to cut and splice those sampled hip hop lyrics to the point where even the most seasoned hip hop head is unable to recognize their very own provenance, but with this song, we actually know exactly where he got the samples from: a silly voicemail from Chocolate Industries' own Marvin Bedard, who's credited on the song as Seven-3.6, that plays at the beginning of the song.

So, with both a simple, head-nod-inducing boom-bap drum thump and some chilled-out melancholic synth tones to lay out his foundation, Herren seems to craft the rest of his tune out of pure telephony: he slices and dices these little vocal samples of the voicemail, as well as the robotic voice that precedes it, and he also strings together the sounds of punched phone keys in order to yield some sweetly stabbing melodies too. And on top of that, Herren generates small bits of IDM rhythms from the voicemail as well, with a variety of rough and tiny, scritch-scratchy sounds that end up adding just a little more texture to the tune, overall.

So, a pretty damn nifty piece of trip-hoppy turn-of-the-millennium IDM here, from the consistently terrific Prefuse 73. Always fascinated by tunes that manage to find innovative ways to make music out of found sounds, and this one serves as a prime example.

#trip hop #idm #intelligent dance music #electronic #electronic music #music #2000s #2000s music #2000's #2000's music #00s #00s music #00's #00's music #Youtube

[readymades2002]

artfight soon.............nyehehe

#*crawling on my belly out of the fire to try and engage in art and activities* #i want to join in......ill do better this time...maybe i will even look at attacks ive gotten........you dont know....... #(i still havent looked at any i got last year. im uh. shy) #i want to join in i have a mile long list of other things i want to draw and right now the top of that list is #*booming voice* Guillermo

[brian-in-finance]

American Cinema Editors (ACE)

The 72nd ACE Eddie Award nominations, which celebrate editing across film and television, announced their nominees this morning and, as was with PGA an hour earlier, not without some big surprises.

In feature film there are two categories, drama and comedy (the musical distinction was eliminated from comedy) and in drama we have Belfast, Dune, King Richard, No Time to Die and The Power of the Dog. West Side Story, which was submitted here, is the big miss. For comedy the nominees are: Cruella, Don’t Look Up, The French Dispatch, Licorice Pizza and tick, tick…BOOM! The choice to submit that film over in comedy proved to be a shrewd one as Netflix earned three feature film nominations as a result.

For television, several shows earned double nominations, including Succession, Ted Lasso, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Mare of Easttown and The White Lotus. Kevin Can F**k Himself earned all three slots for the multi-camera comedy series category. Big snubs here include The Underground Railroad in limited series.

The ACE Golden Eddie Award will go to the Sundance Institute.

The ACE Golden Eddie Award traditionally recognizes a filmmaker who exemplifies distinguished achievement in the art and business of film but ACE broke tradition for the first time in its history this year by recognizing a film organization. “This year the ACE Board voted to honor an entity rather than an individual,” stated ACE president Kevin Tent. “Since 1981, the Sundance Institute has launched some of the most talented and vital voices in global film. Having just celebrated their 40-year anniversary, the Sundance Institute’s impact on our art and industry is immeasurable. ACE is proud to recognize their extraordinary contributions to cinema.”

Founding Senior Director, Artist Programs Michelle Satter, will accept the honor on behalf of the Sundance Institute.

Past recipients of the Golden Eddie include Quentin Tarantino, Kathleen Kennedy, Christopher Nolan, Lauren Shuler Donner, Guillermo del Toro, Spike Lee, Vince Gilligan, J.J. Abrams, Nancy Meyers, Martin Scorsese, Norman Jewison, Robert Zemeckis and George Lucas, among many other accomplished filmmakers.

Veteran film editors Lillian E. Benson, ACE and Richard Chew, ACE will receive Career Achievement Awards for their outstanding contributions to film editing. Benson was the first woman of color invited to join American Cinema Editors just over thirty years ago and has served on its Board of Directors for over two decades.

Chew’s body of work is punctuated with some of the most iconic films in history including Milos Forman’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, (for which he shared the BAFTA Award), Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation, (for which he shared another BAFTA Award) and Star Wars (for which he won the Oscar for Best Film Editing with his co-editors Marcia Lucas and Paul Hirsch, ACE).

“Lillian and Richard are rock star editors and represent the very best of our craft and profession,” stated ACE president Kevin Tent, ACE. “Just look at those credits! Not only have they had incredibly prolific careers, but they’ve given back to our community in many ways, not the least of which by mentoring the next generation of editors. We are thrilled to honor these two special editors and look back at their amazing careers.”

Past recipients of the ACE Career Achievement Award include Alan Heim, ACE, Thelma Schoonmaker, ACE, Dede Allen, ACE, Janet Ashikaga, ACE, Craig Mckay, ACE, Margaret Booth, ACE, Carol Littleton, ACE, John Soh, ACE, Mark Goldblatt, ACE and Leon Ortiz-Gil, ACE, among many others.

The Anne V. Coates Award for Student editing will be announced later.

The 72nd Annual ACE Eddie Awards will be an a 50% capacity in-person event held on Saturday, March 5, 2022 at the Theater at the ACE Hotel, with an after-party to be held at the historic Clifton’s Republic.

Here is the complete list of nominees.

FEATURE FILM (DRAMA)

Belfast , Úna Ní Dhonghaíle, ACE, BFE

Dune, Joe Walker, ACE

King Richard , Pamela Martin, ACE

No Time to Die, Tom Cross, ACE, Elliot Graham, ACE

The Power of the Dog, Peter Sciberras

FEATURE FILM (COMEDY)

Cruella, Tatiana S. Riegel ACE

Don’t Look Up, Hank Corwin, ACE

The French Dispatch of the Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun, Andrew Weisblum, ACE

Licorice Pizza, Andy Jurgensen

tick, tick…BOOM!, Myron Kerstein, ACE, Andrew Weisblum, ACE

ANIMATED FEATURE FILM

Encanto, Jeremy Milton, ACE

Luca, Catherine Apple, ACE, Jason Hudak

The Mitchells vs. the Machines, Greg Levitan

Raya and the Last Dragon, Fabienne Rawley, ACE, Shannon Stein

Sing 2, Gregory Perler, ACE

BEST EDITED DOCUMENTARY (FEATURE)

Flee, Janus Billeskov Jansen

The Rescue, Bob Eisenhardt, ACE

Summer of Soul……Or, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televised, Joshua L. Pearson

Val, Ting Poo, Leo Scott

The Velvet Underground, Affonso Gonçalves, ACE, Adam Kurnitz

BEST EDITED DOCUMENTARY (NON-THEATRICAL)

100 Foot Wave “Sea Monsters”, Abhay Sofsky, Adrienne Gits, Connor Culhane, Brandon Valentin

1971: The Year That Music Changed Everything “Starman”, Sam Blair

Allen V. Farrow “Episode 1”, Mikaela Shwer, Parker Laramie & Sara Newens

The Beatles: Get Back “Episode 3”, Jabez Olssen

Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little Blurry, Greg Finton, ACE, Lindsay Utz, ACE

BEST EDITED MULTI-CAMERA COMEDY SERIES

Kevin Can F**k Himself “Fixed”, Kenneth LaMere ACE

Kevin Can F**k Himself “The Grand Victorian”, Ivan Victor, ACE

Kevin Can F**k Himself “Live Free or Die”, Daniel Schalk, ACE

BEST EDITED SINGLE-CAMERA COMEDY SERIES

Curb Your Enthusiasm “Igor, Gregor, & Timor”, Steven Rasch ACE, Thomas Foligno

Curb Your Enthusiasm “The Mormon Advantage”, Chris Chandler, Roger Nygard, ACE

Hacks “1.69 Million”, Susan Vaill, ACE

Ted Lasso “No Weddings and a Funeral”, A.J. Catoline, ACE

Ted Lasso “Rainbow”, Melissa McCoy, ACE

BEST EDITED DRAMA SERIES

Euphoria “F— Anyone Who’s Not a Sea Blob”, Julio C. Pérez IV, ACE, Nikola Boyanov

Lupin “Chapter 1”, Jean-Daniel Fernandez-Qundez

Squid Game “Gganbu”, Nam Na-young

Succession “All the Bells Say”, Ken Eluto, ACE

Succession “Chiantishire”, Jane Rizzo

BEST EDITED MOTION PICTURE (NON-THEATRICAL)

Kate, Sandra Montiel, ACE, Elísabet Ronaldsdóttir, ACE

Lupe, Shiran Carolyn Amir

Oslo, Jay Rabinowitz, ACE

BEST EDITED LIMITED SERIES

Dopesick “First Bottle”, Douglas Crise, ACE

Mare of Easttown “Fathers”, Amy E. Duddleston, ACE, Naomi Sunrise Filoramo

Mare of Easttown “Illusions”, Amy E. Duddleston, ACE

The White Lotus “Departures”, John M. Valerio, ACE

The White Lotus “Mysterious Monkeys”, Heather Persons

BEST EDITED NON-SCRIPTED SERIES

Formula 1: Drive to Survive “Man on Fire”, Dan Ablett, Kevin Austin, Otto Burnham, Shane McCormack, Graham Taylor

MasterChef: Legends “Semi Final Pt 3 Chef Showdown”, Roger Bartlett, Matt Cluett, Greg Fitzsimmons, Dylan Hart, Ezra Hudson, James Messina, Rod Schultheiss, Austin Scott, Molly Shock ACE

Queer Eye “Angel Gets Her Wings”, Nova Taylor, Sean Gill

BEST EDITED VARIETY TALK/SKETCH SHOW OR SPECIAL

A Black Lady Sketch Show “Sister, May I Call You Oshun”, Daysha Broadway, ACE, Stephanie Filo, ACE, Jessica Hernández, ACE

Bo Burnham: Inside, Bo Burnham

Last Week Tonight with John Oliver “Union Busting”, Ryan Barger, Anthony Milae

BEST EDITED ANIMATION (NON-THEATRICAL)

Bob’s Burgers ” Vampire Disco Death Dance”, Jeremy Reuben

Rick and Morty “Gotron Jerrysis Rickvangelion”, Lee Harting, ACE

What If? “What If… Ultron Won?”, Graham Fisher, Joel Fisher

Úna Ní Dhonghaíle (photo from IMDb)

Remember Úna’s ACE nomination?

#Tait rhymes with hat #Good times #BelfastMovie #Awards #Nominations #American Cinema Editors #ACE #27 January 2022 #Belfast #Worldwide 2022 #Thanks krisrose16 #Campaign To Shorten Awards Season

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

With Santi please, they get VERY steamy in a club (grinding, kissing, licking, grabbing all that good stuff)

The black dress was short and if you bent over, the patrons of the club would see more than an eyeful. You sat down in the lap of Guillermo one of the leaders of Lorea’s cartel and try not to grimace as his hand trails up and down your thighs. His voice is sickly sweet and he stinks of money and power, the other women at the table vying for his attention. But you were his, his whore. 

“Fetch us some drinks, mi amor,” he pushes you off his lap and gives your ass a loud slap, his eyes watching as you walk over towards the bar and ask the bartender for refills. You look over you shoulder and let out a breath at his attention finally on the other women at the table. 

“How’s it going?” your heartbeat quickens as you look over at man beside you, Santiago. “You looked really uncomfortable over there.” 

You roll your eyes and lower your voice, not looking at him, “wouldn’t you be if you were the whore of a drug dealer you couldn’t fucking stand?” He clears his throat and gestures to the bartender for a drink, taking a sip of the beer placed in front of him. “What are you doing here? Isn’t this risky? He could see you.” 

“I don’t care anymore,” he takes a sip and clears his throat turning to look at you. “I’m going to get you out of here. You’re coming with me. I brought back-up.” You scoff and take a sip of your drink, mouthing a thank you to the bartender. 

“You can’t save me Santi, I’m going to die his whore. We both knew what this was when we started fucking,” you chance a look at him and see his eyes darken, “you promised you wouldn’t fall in love with me.” 

“I lied.” He stands and wraps an arm around your wrist pulling you to stand, “I was in love with you long before I started fucking you.” You swallow down the tears that burn your eyes, oh how you loved him too. 

“You can’t save me,” you whisper, getting lost in his deep brown eyes. 

“Then how about one last dance?” he pulls you towards the sea of bodies and turns you, your back facing his front and his hands on your hip grinding you hard into his cock, hard against your ass. The air is thick with smoke, and the heat of bodies packed tighter than sardines in a can. He grabs your neck and bends you forward in a circle before yanking you back to his front, his hand groping your breast. 

You push your head back against his shoulder, your mind going blank from the pleasure of being in his arms. The threat of Guillermo and what you are doing is far from your mind as his mouth moves against your shoulder, your neck, and ear. You moan as he sucks your ear lobe into his mouth, “when I say, take my hand, and run. Don’t look back,” he bites down and grinds his hips into your own. 

A loud boom sounds from behind and Santi shouts, “now,” and you hold his hand kicking off your heels and running behind him. The sound of gunshots behind you, and you scream and duck as Santi pulls you in front of him, pushing you out the side door and into an idling truck. “Get in the truck!” Santi shouts and two men carrying semi-automatic weapons jump in the truck, “Drive, Fish, drive!” Santi pushes your head down as the passenger window explodes with a pop, covering you in glass. 

Eventually the gunshots stop but the truck doesn’t slow down. “Baby?” Santi pulls you up and brushes the glass out of your hair, “are you okay?” You look up into his eyes and cry holding tight to his neck. 

“You got me out,” you whisper sobbing against his neck, “you actually did it.” 

He holds you tighter burying his face in your neck, “I promised I’d keep you safe, you don’t have to go back to him anymore. But, you can’t stay in South America, he will find you. Where do you want to go? I won’t choose for you.” 

You pull back and look him in the eyes, kissing him softly, “I go where you go, mi amor, I love you.” 

He lets out a shaky breath and holds you close as the truck speeds down the road towards freedom, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

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@spider-starry @thewayofthemandalorian @santiagogarcia @soyelfuegoquearde @poedameronloverx @huxdameron

@gunslinger2000 @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @tlcwrites @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @mssbridgerton @elisabethbathgate @pascal-rascal424 @midnightzonzz  @massivetfsimp @mandorush

@mariesackler @goalkeepernerd @meshlamando @xjustmenobodyelse @seasonschange-butpeopledont @josepedropascal @revolution-starter @blufanfictionthings @nicotinebirds @dreamer-101 @Hyperfixatingmenever @whatisawwhileoutandabout @queenbbarnes @sacklerscumrag @veuliee2 @evyiione @terrormonster55

#Thirsty Thursday #santiago pope garcia #Santiago pope garcia x reader #female reader #Triple Frontier #Autumn Writes #Oscar Isaac

[lifeofa-fangirl]

I don’t want you like a best friend

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC

Summary: Taylor Swift causes OFC to put her friendship with Tom on the line

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: A few swear words, a tiny bit of angst maybe? Mostly fluff

A/N: I was stuck on my Damiano David x Reader piece, so I decided to take a break and finally finish this one. I have nothing against Taylor Swift, just used her as a plot piece to move the story along. As always, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

‘Please come to the BAFTAS with me?’

Lauren scrunched her nose together in slight confusion when a text from her best friend appeared on her phone. The words were simple enough. It was a plea to hang out, similar to the ones where he insisted that he needed to come to Edinburgh again soon. He was constantly begging her to keep the guest room ready, so he could hop on a train and come visit. It had always been too long in his opinion. She never disagreed.

They knew each other a little over a year now and Lauren was still surprised how they’d grown so close so quickly. She always felt like she still hadn’t fully recovered from their first night out together. 

Thinking back at how she’d actually gotten to meet Tom, it still felt like a dream. She still didn’t get how she of all people had gotten lucky enough to win the Omaze raffle that Mark Ruffalo had done. The winner was flown out to LA to hang out with Mark for the weekend and attend the Thor Ragnarok premier. By some lucky strike from the faiths, that had been her. 

She also still didn’t know the exact details of how or why the faiths had written Tom into the story. But the fact was that she had reminded Mark of Tom, he’d introduced the pair, insisting that they would click immediately and they should walk the red carpet together. Lauren still suspected him of setting this up on purpose to distract the press from any spoilers that he would almost definitely be giving away by accident. 

It hadn’t helped Mark much, as he had practically live streamed 20 minutes of the movie, but he hadn’t been wrong on the other front. Lauren had never heard or read a story about Tom that had anything bad to say about him. Charismatic, funny, intelligent and so very kind, was the vibe that clung to him. Lauren had been nervous about meeting him, she believed in never meeting your heroes, and had been scared that he wouldn’t live up to the picture she had painted of him in her mind. But Tom turned out to be exactly as amazing as all the stories deemed him to be. And Lauren had taken an immediate liking to him.

Mark had also been right about the press attention. When Tom had showed up with a date on the red carpet in the first time in forever, the press had had a field day. The constant flashes and questions, all the attention on her, Lauren hadn’t liked it one bit. But Tom had been the perfect gentleman. He constantly had had an arm around her to keep her steady and make her feel safe. He had handled all the questions with patience and grace, never once making her feel uncomfortable. 

And in the end, all the attention had been worth it. They had a lot of fun at the premier, so much that Tom and her had spend most of the reminder of their time in LA hanging out together. As the faiths would have it, they had even been on the same flight back to England, on which he definitely hadn’t boother her up to first class and she definitely hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder. 

Lauren had always felt like there could have been something more, but they both had busy lives and had gone their separate ways after the plane had touched ground in London.

They had, however, exchanged phone numbers early on during their stay in LA. To arrange any practical details of whatever they were going to do together of course, no other reason. 

But in the year that followed, the exchange of numbers had led to an almost constant stream of texts. Tom would share snippets of the stuff he was working on, cute pictures of his dog or just something beautiful he had come across on his daily run that he insisted made him think of her. She would vent about the trouble she came across during her shifts in the hospital or send funny pictures of her deeply loved godson.

They had become quick friends, but after twelve months Lauren still wasn’t sure what exactly they had going on. Whether they were bound to stay friends or if there could be something more on the horizon. Every now and then, Tom’s texts would take a flirty turn. But even though she always tried to send a cheeky return, she wasn’t sure what it meant. She knew that, even without realizing he was doing it, Tom tended to be a big flirt with everyone. 

And nothing else had ever happened. She had gone to London a few times, but mostly he came up north to Edinburgh whenever he had the time. She had quickly come to realize he liked how peaceful it was compared to buzzing London. They would hang out in their little cocoon and that was that. 

Every now and then some pap shots would appear of them. Walking Bobby, going for a coffee or grabbing dinner. Friends would always tell her they looked like a couple, the way they stood huddled together, how he had his arm around her lower back or hers was linked through his. But that’s what friends did, right? They hung out together and that’s all there was to it. They were imagining the extra sparkle they claimed to see in his eyes when he was looking at her. Because there was no way Tom was returning the feeling she told everybody she definitely hadn’t developed for him. 

And strangely, most of the time she was content about that. Because she wasn’t seeking any attention and she definitely didn’t want to be known just as ‘Tom’s girlfriend’. And Tom knew that. He respected that and liked it. Because it also meant that in return, with her he could be just Tom, instead of the A-list superstar. They had their own little safe haven together. It was the reason Tom had never asked her to attend an event with her again. And it was the reason she was confused that he was asking her now.

‘Pretty please? Put your loving hand out baby, I’m begging. Begging you.’

Another text brought Lauren back to the present and out of her thoughts. She snorted when she noticed he gave her a taste of her own medicine. Working lyrics into a text or conversation was her specialty, but apparently Tom had taken to drastic measures. She was still confused as to where this was coming from, but also knew she couldn’t say no to Tom, especially not when he was begging. 

“Sure, I guess that could be fun,” she agreed.  She pushed away all thoughts of this being a bad idea and decided to try and just make a fun night of it.

And fun she had. She accompanied Tom to the red carpet, the preshow dinner and the public ceremony. And while she hadn’t expected it, Lauren ended up having a phenomenal time during all of it. She cheered along with Tom when Guillermo De Torro won best director. She got to meet the wonderful Karen Gillan and Tom introduced her to Hugh Laurie, whom she had adored ever since watching Black Adder as a kid.

And she finally found out the actual reason why Tom had begged her to come along with him. Tom had insisted that he’d just wanted her there and wanted to have a good time and that it was time the world got to know the fabulous person Lauren was. But the moment they were on the red carpet and she saw the look on his face when he saw his ex girlfriend step into the spotlight, she knew.

It had been almost 18 months since Tom and Taylor had broken up, but surprisingly it was the first time they attended an event together. Tom managed to give Taylor a polite nod when she passed them, a motion that Taylor didn’t bother to copy. Lauren was suddenly very aware of the cameras around them and she deeply hoped they captured the once over that Taylor gave her, which ended in a look of disgust. Tom certainly had, as Lauren felt his arm slip around her waist to pull her closer to him and felt his lips press a quick kiss on the top of her head. She did her best to ignore the beat her heart skipped.

Things went back to normal, or as normal as the red carpet of an award show could be, after Taylor entered the venue and was out of sight of the cameras. Tom relaxed again, did his best to be his charming self for the interviewers. They enjoyed the show, loved Stephen Fry’s jokes while presenting and overall had fun together. It was a great night. Until Taylor arrived at the after party they were attending.

Much later she would learn that Taylor’s most recent boyfriend had called it quits a day or two before, but the night itself Lauren just knew there would be trouble the moment she spotted Taylor. The singer clearly was more than a little tipsy and despite the loud music, Lauren could almost hear her snarl the moment she spotted Tom, whose arm was hanging loosely around Lauren’s shoulder.

She should have warned Tom, because he hadn’t noticed the singer walk in yet and was happily chatting to the friend besides him. Instead, Lauren felt slightly hypnotized as she watched Taylor. They stared at each other for a moment and in the next, Taylor was walking up to the DJ booth with determination in her step. Lauren watched her greet the man. She shot him a fake smile, gave him a hug and then told him something. The DJ nodded with what looked like a loud laugh and gave her a thumbs up.

As Taylor walked away, Lauren immediately got a bad vibe. She turned her attention to Tom, wanting to inform him about his ex girlfriend just walking in and how she thought she was up to something. But before she could get a word out, the DJ’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Next up we have a request from none other than miss Taylor Swift herself. She asked me to pass along a message. So here it goes: this one is for you, Tom!”

It took a few moments, but when Taylor’s voice sounded through the speakers and she murmured, “No, nothing good ever starts in a getaway car,” all heads in the room seemed to turn in Tom’s direction. 

Lauren was still staring at Taylor, her mouth slightly agape, when she realized Tom’s friends around them had started fussing. She turned around to get a glimpse of Tom’s reaction and found him red-faced and clearly embarrassed. 

Nobody around them seemed sure how to handle the situation and Tom’s face now seemed to drain from all color rather fast. In a split second Lauren decided she needed to distract him and did the first thing that came to mind. She grabbed him by his suit jacket to pull him closer and get his attention and yelled, “Well we’re just a wet dream for the webzine!”

Tom’s face immediately told her the tactic had worked. It scrounged up in confusion. He stared at her for a few long moments and then he yelled back, ”What?”

“It’s a Panic at the Disco song,” Lauren explained, doing her best to be heard over Taylor’s song still blasting through the boxes. Straining her voice, she continued, “It goes: Well we’re just a wet dream for the webzine, make us it, make it hip, make a scene.” She let out a small snort when she realized, “Coincidently the song is called London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines. It continues: Or shrug us off your shoulders don’t approve a single word that we wrote. And then the next verse goes-“

Before Lauren could get out any of the next verse, Tom interrupted her. “You really have a song for every occasion, don’t you?” he wanted to know. He was smiling and seeing him happy again made Lauren’s heart jump more than just a little. She felt so proud she was the reason he was smiling again.

She did her best not to give away what Tom’s reaction was doing to her by simply shrugging in response. “It’s kind of my thing I guess,” she allowed him. Then, not able to help herself, she continued, “As I was saying, in case you are interested, the song continues: just for the record, the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of A indifference or B disinterest in what the critics say.” 

Her words caused Tom to let out a loud laugh. “You’re more than a bit crazy, you know that?” he told her. But his words didn’t carry any venom to it and his actions confirmed that he was more than happy to have her around: without another word, he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, love,” he whispered, loud enough for only her to hear.

Lauren’s heart made another jump when she felt Tom press a light kiss against her hair and the smile that was already present on her face only grew wider. ‘Mission accomplished,’ the voice in her head silently confirmed. 

Tom’s smile considerably lifted the mood of the people surrounding them and the rest of the night Lauren and Tom spend dancing with their friends and having a good time. And Lauren couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud about the fact that every time she looked at Taylor from the corner of her eye, she could see her staring at them green with envy.

Quite some time after midnight, Tom and Lauren were both still high on adrenalin from the evening, but the party had started to die down and they too decided to call it a night and drive home. 

Not completely ready to quit the party just yet, Lauren plugged her phone into the sound system and put a playlist of her favorite songs on shuffle.

They had just jammed out to Fleetwood Mac, pulling out their best carpool karaoke moves, when a new song started and a too familiar voice filled the car. “I don’t like your little games, don’t like your tilted stage, the role you made me play -“

“Shit, sorry, sorry!” Lauren grabbed her phone and stopped the song as soon as she heard the first lines, but it was already too late. Tom had obviously recognized Taylor’s voice. The mood in the car went from ecstatic to ice cold in three seconds flat.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tom’s voice was void of emotion, his knuckles were white from tightly gripping the steering wheel and Lauren could easily tell he was angry. She couldn’t blame him either.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” she apologized. She switched to another song in a desperate effort to change the mood again. “I should have thought about this.”

“Well clearly you didn’t,” Tom answered in a flat tone. “I cannot believe you actually have that CD.”

Lauren understood why Tom was mad, of course she did. After tonight she didn’t blame him. But the whole Taylor story had happened before they knew each other. The record came out before they met and started caring about it each other. Back then it had just been good music to Lauren and she hadn’t really cared what the inspiration behind the songs had been. “I got it before we met,” she tried to explain. “Back then I just thought there were some good jams on there, that’s all.”

Tom scoffed. “Well, if you like it so much, maybe you should play Getaway Car again?” 

Lauren was sure a little crack had just appeared in her heart from all the ice in his voice. She blinked a few times in an effort to keep the tears at bay. “You know that song means nothing to me!” 

She cringed at the desperation in her own voice. But it hurt to see him angry at her and she needed Tom to understand that this had been a stupid accident and she would have never played a Taylor song to him on purpose. 

Emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She needed an outlet for them and she almost literally felt her brain to mouth filter short-circuit. And before she realized what was happening, she heard herself say, “Besides, if we are talking about Taylor Swift songs that remind me of you, let me tell you that Getaway Car was never it for me. There’s a whole other song on that album that I link to you. That I can’t get out of my head when I’m with you.”

“And what would that be?” Tom sounded skeptical, as if he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

“Dress.”

“Dress?” Lauren could hear the confusion in Tom’s voice. When he briefly glanced over at her, she noticed a frown on his forehead. “Isn’t that the one that is supposedly about Ed Sheeran?”

It seemed like the surprise of Lauren’s confession had calmed Tom down a bit. The effect she had hoped for, but at the same time, it also meant he wanted an explanation. He deserved one. 

Lauren closed her eyes for a few moments and took a deep breath. She realized that this was it. She just ruined their friendship. And she wasn’t sure if it was in the worst or the best way possible. But she did know there was no going back now. 

Another deep breath and there she went, diving of the deep end and changing their friendship forever. “I don’t know. But… earlier tonight you asked me if I have a song for every occasion. And well, I guess that maybe I do. And this is the one I have for every occasion I’ve spend with you.” A small pauze as she figured out how to best continue. “I think… maybe you should just listen to the song.”

Lauren could tell Tom had a hard time dividing his attention between her and the road when she felt the car swirl slightly. The movement only made her nervousness worse. She fumbled with the controls of her phone until she finally found the song. 

Neither of them said anything while the song played and they drove through the darkness. Only when the chorus played for the last time, Lauren somehow, somewhere found the courage to sing along. “Say my name and everything just stops. I don’t want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off.”

The silence that filled the car after the song stopped was deafening. It felt like the longest couple of minutes in in Lauren’s life. When she risked a glance at Tom, she could tell his grip on the steering wheel had tightened again and he was staring at the road ahead with a blank expression. 

“Are you not going to say anything?” Lauren eventually needed to know. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she needed a reaction from Tom, good or bad.

“I’m trying to find a spot to park this car.” For one fleeting moment Lauren was sure she had ruined everything. Tom was going to stop the car and throw her out. And then he continued, “Because I desperately want to kiss you right now, but I don’t think driving and kissing at the same time is a very good idea.”

And Lauren had never been more grateful than that moment that her superpower was having a fitting song lyric for every occasion. 

#Lore writes #tom hiddleston #tom Hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x ofc

[chelsfic]

Leftovers - Part 11 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

For Previous Parts: WWDITS Masterlist

Summary: Guillermo shows off some of his cool, new vampire powers and the reader tags along on a hunt. What could go wrong?

A/N: DON’T @ ME ABOUT THE PATRIOTS DIG! I’m from New England! It’s finnnnneee. Also, previously I said this might be the final chapter. It’s not. There’s one more to come after this.

Warnings: Peril!, Blood drinking

---

“So...what’s it like!?”

You’re sprawled across your bed watching Guillermo stand in front of the full-length mirror amusing himself by picking up various knickknacks from your bureau and making them float in the reflection. He’s dressed as he usually is: a pair of khaki slacks, a button down shirt and a thick, striped sweater on top. The one adjustment he’s made to his wardrobe is the addition of a black leather duster that’s currently folded at the foot of your bed. Very Spike.

He turns to you with a wide grin, his newly minted fangs on full display.

“It’s...wonderful!” he gushes, coming to sit by you on the bed. “I can fly! I can turn into a bat! And did I tell you I worked out my special vampire power!?”

“Guillermo! Show me!” You sit up, bouncing the mattress excitedly.

“Okay, okay!” He glances around your room for a second, his eyes darting from your cluttered bureau to your overflowing closet to the floor that’s littered with laundry. He raises his hands and does a little flourish. Suddenly your discarded clothes are floating through the air, folding and neatly stacking themselves, the objects on your bureau are rearranging and tidying themselves and your closet is swallowing up the overflowing clutter. 

“Oh...my...g--” you stop yourself just in time and throw him an apologetic look. “--gosh! Your secret weapon is housekeeping!?”

Guillermo gives you a deadpan look as he corrects, “Telekinesis!”

“That’s...so...awesome! Guillermo! You’re like Matilda!” 

If he could, Guillermo would be blushing under your praise. As it is he’s smiling wide enough to dimple his cheeks. 

“Guillermo!” Nandor’s voice booms through the house. “Are you ready to come hunting with us?”

---

Nandor grumbles about taking you along hunting. But when you hint that you don’t want to be left alone with just Colin Robinson for company--and Nandor spots Colin sneakily setting up his Scrabble board--he...relents. He’s been doing a lot of that lately and he’s secretly very worried about word getting round the vampire community. So, he pretends that it is his idea.

“Yes, we should take the human with us. For cammy flogs,” he nods knowingly into the camera.

“Cam...camouflage, master?” Guillermo suggests, his eyes narrowed in confusion. 

“As I said, Guillermo!” Nandor snaps, irritably. “Let us away to sate our dark appetites!”

With you tagging along the vampires are forced to walk to the park and there’s a good deal of complaining going on even from your steadfast booster, Nadja. 

“Sorry, guys,” you honestly do feel a little bad, especially since you can tell Guillermo is itching to stretch his wings, so to speak. “But, hey! Maybe you’ll run into someone on the way who looks good to eat?”

Nadja sniffs petulantly, “Now that we are forced to acquire our own meals every evening because Guillermo has shirked his duties!”

Even Nadja’s entitled griping can’t drag down Guillermo’s ecstatic mood. He’s almost floating with happiness--no, he’s actually floating, you note that his feet are several inches off the ground.

“I’m not a familiar anymore, Nadja!” Guillermo explains for the umpteenth time. “You guys are lucky I’m still doing so much of the cleaning with my special vampire power.”

Nandor stalks beside you, his long cape billowing out dramatically in his wake. He bares his fangs and interrupts, “Well...let’s not be too hasty, Guillermo. You’re still kind of my familiar...my servant...my...cool...vampiric...underling…”

He trails off as you dart a warning glance in his direction.

“What!?” he whines, shrugging his broad shoulders with a nervous grin. “Someone needs to do the dusting and help me with my hair!”

“Don’t worry, master,” Guillermo sighs, not without affection. “I’ll still take care of you. We’re a family now!”

You feel like your heart might burst and you clutch your hands together and gush over how sweet that is, even as your boyfriend hisses and grimaces in distaste. 

“Guillermo!” you skip over to him, tugging on the long leather coat and making grabby hands. “Piggy back ride!”

He nods with a laugh. You jump up onto his back, squealing in delight as he glides above the concrete. 

“Don’t go too high!” you whisper into his ear, fisting your hands into the leather of his jacket. 

“Hey, be careful there!” Nandor grouses. “Guillermo, control your baby vampire bloodlust! If you eat my girlfriend I’m going to be really annoyed!”

You roll your eyes but send a smile in Nandor’s direction all the same. As Guillermo would say, he has a funny way of showing he cares.

Guillermo’s still effortlessly lugging you around when you enter the darkened paths of the park. There are a few late night joggers about, some homeless people and couples walking arm in arm. Your group splits up, so as to attract less attention. Nadja and Laszlo go off together and Nandor sticks with you and his new fledgling. 

“Help me pick someone out who looks kind of...villainous…” Guillermo says to you over his shoulder. He’s still coming to terms with taking human life.

“Sure,” you chirp, scanning the park for a likely victim. This is part of the reason why you wanted to tag along tonight. Not just to see your newly vamped friend in action. But...to see if you can deal. “How ‘bout that guy? He’s wearing a Patriots jersey. He must be at least a little evil…”

Guillermo snorts, but his eyes track the fellow with a hungry gleam.

“His face is...really red,” he mutters under his breath, baring his fangs and practically drooling with blood lust.

“Human,” Nandor says, coming up behind you and lifting you off Guillermo’s back. “Time to get away from the hungry vampire now.”

He sets you down in front of him, wrapping his arms around you and shielding you from the chilly night air with his cape. You both watch as Guillermo transforms into a bat, gliding soundlessly over to the man and then taking his human form right behind him. He drags him behind a nearby bush. The whole thing takes seconds and they’re almost entirely obscured from view except for the man’s kicking legs. 

“Wow…” you whisper, suddenly feeling very frail and very human. “That was...so quick!”

Nandor tightens his arms around you and leans down to whisper in your ear, “Soon, my little human. Soon you will conquer the nights with us! In the blinks of the eye it will be your turn…”

He drifts off and you crane your neck around to see that his eyes are trained on the shuddering bush, his mouth open in hunger as he subconsciously reaches out. 

“Nandor… It’s okay if you want to go take a bite. I’ll be fine,” you offer, edging out of his arms. 

“Just a quick…” he mutters and then he’s flying forward faster than you track with your human eyes.

You creep closer to the bush, not willing to stand out in the open like a baby gazelle in a park that is apparently a vampire hunting ground. Guillermo and Nandor are hunched over on either side of their victim. The sound effects they’re making as they tear into the man’s throat are not...all together without their charm. Sure, the squelching, liquid suction of their feasting is kind of gross, but Nandor’s deep, feral growls stir something inside of you. You find yourself fantasizing about kissing those bloodstained lips…

“Hey, boo. Long time, no munch.”

The familiar voice comes out of nowhere. Faster than you can react--faster, even, than Nandor and Guillermo can pull away from their meal--you’re grabbed from behind and suddenly launched into the air, soaring into the night sky over the park. 

“What the shit!” Nandor shouts from below.

At first you flail your limbs out madly, shrieking and clawing at the hands on your shoulders. But when you finally catch a glimpse at the retreating ground below you, and realize how high up you are, your body goes slack. You desperately clutch the wrists of the vampire holding you and slam your eyes shut against the dizzying sight of your legs dangling, suspended hundreds of feet above the ground.

“She said she wanted to join the club--mile high! I said, that’s easy girl, I can fly! One quick thing, though, ur gonna die…”

The vampire twists you around until you’re front to front, but you keep your eyes stubbornly shut. Tears leak out as you whisper, “Don’t drop me, don’t drop me, don’t drop me…”

“Count fucking Rapula!” Nandor’s voice suddenly tears through the sky and you dare to open your eyes, craning your neck around to see him with Guillermo, Laszlo and Nadja all floating in mid-air behind you. 

Rapula--you guess that’s his name?--shifts your body around casually like you’re nothing more than a bag of potatoes. Now he’s holding you under only one arm so he can point dramatically at your vampires.You let out a whimper and cover your face with your hands to block out the view of the ground beneath you.

“Nandy? The...Remorseful? Is that it?”

Nandor growls and lunges forward but Laszlo puts out his forearm to keep him back.

“Careful there, old chap. He’s the only thing standing between our roller warrior and the ground below!” Laszlo turns to Rapula, “Now, I say, unhand our human thrall, Count Rapuleeeehh!”

There’s a beat of silence during which you hear nothing but the sound of the wind whipping around you. Rapula’s arm on you tenses momentarily as he answers, “Whatever you want, old-timer…”

And then you’re falling. 

And screaming.

And falling some more.

Until suddenly you’re not falling anymore. But instead of the solid, final impact you expect, you find yourself landing in a pair of outstretched arms. Nandor cradles you to his chest, his grip on you is borderline painful but you’re not about to ask him to loosen it. You snake your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder and holding on like your life depends on it. Because, well...it does.

He says your name, softly at first and then more insistently, “Okay! Okay! You can stop shouting now! I’ve got you.”

You didn’t even realize you were shouting until his words break through and you snap your mouth closed, subsiding into tiny whimpers as he floats back up to join the other vampires. 

“WE’RE GOING TO RIP OFF YOUR DANGLY BITS AND SHOVE THEM UP YOUR ASSHOLE!”

You’ve never felt more appreciative of Nadja’s hyper aggression. Guillermo and Laszlo are restraining Rapula between them and Nadja hovers before them, clawing her nails down the leech’s face as she unleashes her unholy diatribe.

Rapula’s bravado has melted away and he’s begging in a soprano squeak, “I didn’t know she was under anybody’s protection! You shoulda put a label on her or somethin--”

Laszlo turns to Nandor with raised brows, “That is true, Nandor. You were meant to write your name and the date on her with the marker pens. We might have avoided a lot of bullshit if you’d followed your own rules for once.”

“Shut up, Laszlo!” Nandor, Nadja and Guillermo all cry out at once.

“Master, why don’t you take Smash home? We’ve got this situation in hand,” Guillermo suggests, he pats his leather duster and you spot the end of a sharp wooden stake sticking out of his pocket. Seems like a bit of a hazard for a vampire to be walking around with one of those…

Nandor scoffs, “No! I will be the one to do the avenging. Guillermo, fly home and fetch my head-ripping gloves!”

The other three vampires look skeptical and you peek up at Nandor with a pleading look.

“Please, Nandor. I just want to go back to the house. And the ground, back to the ground, please.”

Nandor looks from you to the group with an obvious frown. Finally, he sighs dramatically.

“Very well, human! Yeesh, you’re really ruining my reputation over here,” he complains but there’s no heat in the words. He turns back to the other vampires. “After everything that happened with the Council. I think it’s probably best if we refrain from killing him. Simply dismembering him and scattering the parts in the ocean will be sufficient, alright? I’ll see you all at home.”

With that matter-of-fact proclamation, Nandor tightens his arms around you and soars away, gradually descending into the park until he touches down smoothly into the grass. 

“We’re on the ground, my human,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Do you want to walk or you want to do the pig ride like you did with Guillermo?”

You huff a laugh and look up at him with a coy smile, “You’d really give me a piggyback ride? Even if it made you look silly?”

Nandor glances around at the empty park as if he expects a panel of judges on vampiric coolness to pop out from behind a tree. He looks back at you with an abashed grin. 

“I will do it. Although I never look silly. Now come on.”

He slings you onto his back and rises onto his toes until he’s gliding just above the ground.

“Wee!” you squeal, throttling his neck in your excitement. It’s...exhilarating to feel so safe and happy after nearly dying--again.

Nandor glides the whole way home, casually hypnotizing passersby so that they ignore the odd, floating man and the cackling girl straddling his back. When you finally make it back to the house he pauses at the door, depositing you onto your feet and looking down at you with a hesitant expression.

“My human,” he begins, drawing out the last syllable as he searches for words. “I know that you wanted to wait a while before your unholy transition. But I was thinking...maybe we better get it over with before you...accidentally get eaten or dropped from the sky or something.”

You snort at his wording before your face turns more serious and you admit, “You...might be right.”

“Is that a yes?” Nandor asks with a hopeful sparkle in his dark eyes.

You look up at him and for a moment your head spins as you contemplate how far you’ve come. You went from victim to thrall to roommate to lover to...well, what exactly will this mean for you two?

“Nandor...Nadja turned Laszlo into a vampire and now they’re married. Does that mean this is, like, a proposal?”

Nandor’s face blanches in surprise and his eyes go shifty as he answers, “A proposal to eat up all your yummy yummy blood and replace it with some of my own thereby turning you into an immortal vampire, yes.”

You shimmy back and forth on your feet playfully as you prod him further, “And then…? What comes next after that?”

“And then…” Nandor echoes, “we will see.”

You laugh at your goofy vampire and walk ahead of him into the house. 

“Alright...you make a good point. So...tomorrow night?”

Nandor’s mouth splits into a wide, vicious grin as he answers, “Tomorrow night.”

---

A/N: There’s one more chapter to come! I thought this was going to be the final one but--the demons demanded otherwise!

Tags:

@festering-queen​ @kandomeresbitch​ @strangestdiary​ @glitterportrait​ @scuzmunkie​ @redwoodshadows​ @sarasxe​ @rileyomalley​

#nandor the relentess #nandor #nandor the relentless x reader #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless imagine #nandor the relentless fanfic #wwdits fanfic #what we do in the shadows fanfic #wwdits #what we do in the shadows

[nandoor]

20 for Nandor and Guillermo

20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

a/n: this takes place right after 1x07 (the trial)

...

The aftermath of the trial is a tiring affair. The vampires, returning to their human forms once they are safely within the darkened confines of the Staten Island house, immediately start bickering. 

“Vampire-only conversation, Guillermo!” Nandor says, pointing in the general direction of Guillermo’s room. 

Guillermo slinks obediently to his room as the three vampires bicker much too loudly in the foyer. Colin Robinson had caught a taxi to go to work, noting that he would recover much better if he went to his usual feeding ground rather than moping around the house. So it seemed that it was only Nadja, Laszlo, and Nandor yelling, from what bits and pieces of the conversation Guillermo could hear from his room. 

“Nandor, and I mean this with the utmost sincerity: you are a fucking idiot! You were really going to sell us out for Gizmo, a human familiar? Get a grip, old chap--you’ve known Nadja and I for centuries. Little Gizmo? He’ll be fertilizer for my apple trees in half a century--perhaps even sooner, if he keeps getting himself embroiled in vampiric matters.” 

“Laszlo is right,” Nadja agrees, her sing-song voice taking on a subtle, darker tinge. “If you do something like that again Nandor I swear I will feed your intestines to the koi fish. You can’t just sell out your housemates for a human! Even if Guillermo is a good familiar it does not matter; he is not a vampire.” 

Something like a frustrated groan slips past Nandor’s lips. “But he was willing to sacrifice his life for us--his little human life. What did you expect me to do? Let him die?” 

“Yes!” Laszlo and Nadja say at the same time. Guillermo can imagine the exasperation plainly on their faces. 

“Oh...” Nandor trails, going silent for a moment. Guillermo knew the vampire well enough that he was almost sure that Nandor was giving the pair an awkward smile. “Well next time I’ll make sure to let Guillermo take the blame then. There--are you both happy now so I can go to my coffin already?”

“Nandor,” Laszlo says, clearing his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for awhile now, and I hate to pry, but--” 

“What is Guillermo to you?” Nadja finishes smoothly. “Come now, don’t give me that look. It’s a fair question considering we all almost died for him, you big bloody turkey!” 

“Guillermo is my familiar, obviously.” 

Nadja lets out a groan. “Yes, but he’s obviously something more. I’ve never heard of a vampire willingly laying down their life--and their friends’ lives, you absolute piss snake--for a familiar. So I think Laszlo and I deserve an explanation.” 

“Quite,” Laszlo agrees. “So what is it? The lad still smells like a freshly plucked virgin so I know you two aren’t succumbing to carnal pleasures in the dead of night.” 

Nandor hisses. “My relationship with Guillermo is personal! And I do not need to explain myself to you two perverts.” There is a pause before Nandor’s voice bellows loudly through the estate. “Guillermo! You can come back to the foyer! I am ready to go to coffin now!” 

Quick as a viper, Guillermo stumbles out of his room and towards the booming voice of his master. By the time he arrives, Nadja and Laszlo had already ascended the stairs to their crypt, leaving Nandor alone in the foyer. 

When he notices Guillermo down the hall, there’s a sadness in his eyes that almost makes the familiar freeze. In his decade at Nandor’s side, he had never seen such a vulnerable look on the vampire’s face. 

I really don’t know you at all, do I? Guillermo thinks, holding out a hand expectantly. 

Nandor only hesitates for a moment before taking it, allowing himself to be guided back to his crypt. 

“Guillermo... I am glad you did not die today,” Nandor admits as Guillermo brushes his hair. “But please do not kill any more vampires. Even accidentally. I don’t think the Council will be happy with a repeat performance.” 

“Yes, master. I’ll do my best, I promise,” Guillermo replies softly. 

The camera pans to Guillermo’s back, the fingers of his left hand crossed. 

And you don’t know me at all, either... 

#southernsexynstuf #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #guillermo de la cruz #nandor #nandor x guillermo #nandermo #i know laszlo & nadja had to have grilled nandor abt how the trial went down #maybe we’ll get flashback footage at some point? i’d love that

[stephengonzalez98]

Blazing Saddles (1974)

(Warner Brothers, Blazing Saddles, 1974)

The genre of westerns carries with it certain clichés that are found in many of its movies, tv shows, and media. The railroad, cowboy hats, boom towns, saloons, fighting Indians, and bar maids all fit within the stereotypes of the genre. In 1974, Mel Brooks decided to take a stab at not only making his own western film but using his western to make fun of and generate talk about classic western film ideologies. Thus, Blazing Saddles was born.

(Warner Brothers, Meet Jim, 1974)

Brooks cast both Cleavon Little, and Gene Wilder, to star as the Black sheriff, Bart and alcoholic deputy, Jim, respectively. The main story of the film revolves around the town of Rock Ridge. It’s a frontier town that the attorney general of the territory wants to connect to the state rail system and turn into a high-end city. In order to do this, he needs to run out the people currently residing in town. He sends in an army of criminals to terrorize the town, to which the town cries out for a sheriff to protect them. The Governor, without knowledge of the attorney general’s plans, is recommended to send in a Black sheriff as a sign of being progressive. The reason being, that the attorney general believes a Black sheriff will scare the nearly all White population of Rock Ridge out of the town.

(Warner Brothers, Welcome Sheriff, 1974)

The film touches on such topics as racism, racial and cultural stereotypes, and sexism in a satirical form. Such ideas as racial hierarchy, strict gender roles, over sexualization of women, cultural identities, and sexual orientation are all subject to the comedic writing of Brooks. For example, the film mainly expresses the idea of Black racism, however, Asian and Native people are also mentioned within the dialogue. Often, phrases such as “Niggers” “Darkies” “Chinks” and “Reds” are used to resemble the language used in the mid-1800s. Brooks found ways of using these slurs almost so satirically that hearing them sounds so out of place that it causes you to laugh and think about how they really were commonplace words used without a second thought.

(Warner Brothers, Register Here, 1974)

 Most people would reel back in horror at the thought of laughing at racial slurs. I agree. In today’s social context this is something that seems forbidden and taboo, especially with the current cancel culture. We do have to remember that within the context of the film there is a reason for it. Brooks proves mostly the place that “Nigger” had in frontier society as Cleavon’s sheriff Bart, tries to appeal to the people of the town and introduce himself. Wilder’s Jim warns against it but Bart proceeds out to town. He starts with whom he’d assumed to be the easiest person to get along with, the old feeble grandmother. After asking how her day ways, Bart is met with a quick retort of “Up yours Nigger!” To which Jim explains that the residents of Rock Ridge are “People of the land…farmers…morons,” causing Bart to laugh and smile (Brooks, 1974).

(Warner Brothers, Rock Ridge Town Council, 1974)

Looking back at all of the different flawed and offensive topics that Blazing Saddles looks at it seems as though there were maybe too many or not enough. Although, it does call to mind the video, A Declaration of Poetic Disobedience from the New Border by Guillermo Gómez-Peña. The two share this idea of voicing opinions through satire and in-your-face facts. Neither film holds back from facing the reality that racism and stereotypes have in our world. To which we must ask, “Why the need for such an approach to the conversation of race and racial identity?” The answer to which I find to be quite rudimentary: All talk is good talk. We have become, in my eyes, too afraid to talk about the subject of race, racial identity, and other social topics due to the fear of offending others, and thus being shamed and labeled as racist, intolerant, a bigot, or closed-minded by society. We have become so quick to pull the trigger of blame, that as a byproduct, these topics often lack substantial conversations and ideas. Films, writings, and media such as Blazing Saddles and A Declaration of Poetic Disobedience from the New Border give us a starting point from which we can have such conversations and express such ideas so that we are less afraid to face our reality.

(Warner Brothers, Help Me, 1974)

All rights to the images go to Warner Brothers Pictures in association with Mel Brooks. 

[upstartcrow42]

Poor, Lonely Nandor (WWDITS Fic WIP)

Working on a story that has been stirring in my brain for a while. Trying to get all the pieces to work realistically together and find the right tone because it will involve some OCs and I tend to get carried away with stuff like that.

I'm really proud of this dumb passage I wrote about Nandor and Guillermo making a visit to a certain relative's grave site.

He was trying to train Nandor to be less creepy around women in general. As handsome as the vampire was, he had zero game with the ladies (or gentlemen for that matter). He either wanted to know if they were related to him or if they wanted to be related to him, often said with the raise of eyebrows like he was a Lothario character from a third rate romantic comedy. It had yet to work on anyone.

Before he could advise his master against hasty decisions, the immortal warrior effortlessly slid up to the woman and started asking her rapid-fire questions and making comments.

“Hello, human mortal. Aren’t you a lovely lady? How do you know Madeline Darbish? Are you her relative? That is a lovely frock. I too like to dress in black when I’m in mourning. I am her relative, so maybe we are relatives too?” Nandor’s words echoed through the cemetery.

Guillermo ran up as fast as he could, but from this distance, even through her veil, he could see the wide-eyed look on her face. A figurative deer in the headlights. She blinked rapidly at his master and then without saying anything made a hasty exit.

“Hey, where are you going? Did I scare you? Be careful of the tree branch. Don’t run, human mortal. If you run too fast you might break your little heels. Then you would be uneven on your footing. I just wanted to see if we were perhaps family and how you’ve been doing.” His master’s voice boomed into the night after the poor woman, but thankfully he had the sense to not go running after her.

Guillermo pulled Nandor to face him. “Stop. You’re calling the wrong type of attention to yourself again.” He took a moment to calm himself. “Remember what we talked about when approaching women, especially mortal ones.”

Nandor ignored that entirely. “But why is she running off, I just wanted to know if we were perhaps related,” he whined.

“Master, she probably thinks you’re either some deranged person or some creepy perv who picks up-” he thought more deliberate word choice help get his message across, “tries to seduce women at the cemetery.” Honestly, it was probably a little of both in this case.

Nandor scrunched up his face. “I’m not re-arranged and yeech, Guillermo, why would I want to seduce my decedents. We’re related to each other by blood. They sprang forth from my semen. Is that something the mortals are doing now? I know taboos in society have changed, but that’s just disgusting. Guillermo, don’t make sexy times with family.” He looked like he was trying to cleanse the thought from his brain and then added, “It makes the kids come out weird later on. Just look at what happened to the mighty Hapsburgs.”

#WWDITS #WWDITS FX #Nandor #Nandor the Relentless #Guillermo #Guillermo de la Cruz #Fanfic #WIP

[myemergence]

Unfinished Business

Summary: After Freddie Costas' father dies in jail, he comes looking for revenge against the people that he blames the most; the insurance adjuster, the lawyer, the judge, and unfortunately for Evan Buckley, Bobby Nash.

A/N: HUGE thanks go to the beta for this story, missmarthanightingale for all of the hard work that she put into this - this story would not have become what it is if it wasn't for you!

**

The residents of the greater Los Angeles area had been on edge for days. There was a serial bomber on the loose that was leaving mysterious packages on residents’ doorsteps. When they went to retrieve the package, they had been horrifically surprised with a crippling boom.

The first victim had been Miranda Filson, who was now fighting for her life in the hospital. She had been preparing to go out with her husband when the package arrived. Miranda had been excited, hoping what was in the package would make up for her husband’s lack-luster effort in choosing a restaurant for their anniversary dinner.

The next victim came only a day later, a retired insurance adjustor, Kevin Dean. It had been obvious to Athena that there was some connection. The way in which the packages were being left, as well as the bombs themselves, indicated a distinct pattern; that of a serial bomber who was just getting started.

The most recent victim had been Judge Vernon Clemmons, and he hadn’t survived. She only hoped that they would be able to figure it all out before there were any more victims.

So when Athena received the call that a package had been left on her family’s doorstep, and that her son, Harry, had nearly opened it, she had raced home. She enveloped her ex-husband Michael in a hug, held their children close. She thanked Michael for being there with the kids, worst case scenarios flashing through her mind.

Once the bomb squad had taken care of the package that was left on their porch, Bobby Nash was finally able to make it up the road and to their home. “Hey, I got here as fast as I could, they wouldn’t let me down the street,” he said by way of an apology, as he hurriedly made his way down the steps in their home. “Do they have any idea who’s doing this?”

Athena glanced at Bobby, scouring her brain for any tidbit of information that she may have been missing. “I keep running through it in my head. I was at the scene of the first bombing, but the woman isn’t familiar, not her face or her name. They say she’s a defense lawyer, and we must have crossed paths, but I-I just …” She struggled with the words, trying to dig up some memory of the woman.

“You’ve been doing this for a while. You’re not gonna remember every attorney you’ve ever met,” he told her gently.

“They also showed me a photo of the insurance adjustor. He didn’t look familiar either, the only one that I am sure of is Judge Clemmons.”

Bobby’s forehead creased slightly. “Judge Clemmons? Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Sergeant Grant.” Agent Boyd, who was investigating the case, made his way in through the sliding glass door from the backyard, approaching Bobby and Athena. “Do you remember working an arson case about three years back?” He slipped a small notepad in his pocket, turning his attention back to Athena. “It was a restaurant.”

“Guillermo’s,” Bobby piped in, from where he stood a few steps behind Athena.

Athena glanced between Bobby and Agent Boyd before explaining. “Agent Boyd, this is Captain Nash of the LAFD. We worked that case together.”

“It’s the only time I’ve had to testify since I moved to L.A. The owner was Victor Costas. He got six years. Should still be in prison,” Bobby supplied, shaking his head. He remembered plenty of cases, but this one had really stuck with him. Bobby couldn't forget how distraught Freddie Costas had been to see his father arrested for the arson of the family restaurant.

“Well, released early, on account of he’s dead.” Athena let out a small gasp at Agent Boyd’s words, and he continued. “About three months ago. Cancer.”

“He had a wife and a kid, a teenager. And the son was really angry when his father got arrested,” Bobby offered.

Athena leveled Boyd with a meaningful look. “Father’s dead. I wonder how angry he is now.”

After a few more minutes, Agent Boyd excused himself, telling them that he was heading to the station, where they were bringing in Mrs. Costas for questioning. Without hesitation, Bobby and Athena followed him down there. There wasn’t much they could do at home now anyway, waiting for the house to be cleared.

**

Athena and Bobby stood in silence, watching the interview taking place between Romero and Mrs. Costas. They wondered how much she really knew. The interview had been emotional. It began with her swearing that they had the wrong person, that her Freddie would never do something like this. As the interview progressed however, so did her story. When they discussed the fire, she told Romero that they had been unable to claim anything from the insurance company, and had then been sued by their creditors. Her voice shook with emotion as she explained how they had lost it all; between the LAFD, the insurance company, and everything surrounding the trial, they had been left with nothing.

“We sold everything we had to pay for that lawyer,” she told Detective Romero, “and what did we get? A death sentence. Prison broke my husband,” her voice trembled, “and then it killed him.”

Romero leaned forward, eyes locked on Mrs. Costas as he braced his hands on the chair in front of him. “So Freddie was angry.” He spoke in an even tone. “At the lawyer, at the judge, at the insurance company. Who else is he angry at, Mrs. Costas?”

Before they could hear her answer, Bobby and Athena were distracted by the sound the door opening as Agent Boyd joined them in the room. “Bomb squad just cleared your home, Captain Nash. Nothing there.”

“Well, I guess that’s a relief,” Bobby said.

Athena frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, though. I was there the day his father was arrested. He said you blew up their lives.”

Agent Boyd shrugged. “Well, maybe he’s saving Captain Nash for last. Hasn’t sent the bomb yet.”

As Agent Boyd spoke, discomfort settled low in Bobby’s stomach. His eyes shifted as he thought, before focusing back on Boyd.  “Or, maybe you searched the wrong house.”

**

“Interim Captain Han.” Buck’s jaw clenched in annoyance. He struggled not to roll his eyes, standing shoulder to shoulder with the other firefighters for an inspection. “Is this really necessary? Bobby-”

“Ah, ah.” Chimney spoke slowly, wagging his finger. “Bobby’s not the captain, I am. So you really need to stop questioning my authority.”

“You are seriously so drunk with power, and delusional to boot, Chim.”

Chimney leveled Buck with a glare. “That’s Interim Captain Han, to you.”

Hen shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips. “And if there is any fairness left in this world, Bobby will be back as captain any day now.”

Eddie glanced up from where he stood, shaking his head. “They’re not wrong. You have been insufferable,” he said, taking a seat on one of the benches.

Chimney didn’t have the chance to retort before they heard the alarm bells sound. “Alright, let’s gear up.” The crew made their way down to the trucks, Hen manning the ambulance alone as Chim, Buck and Eddie climbed into the rigs.

They were being called to a reported three car pile-up in downtown Los Angeles, and they  weaved quickly through the streets. “One-eighteen, one-eighteen. We’ve got Bobby Nash on the line. He says it’s important,” a dispatcher called over the radio.

A look of confusion crossed Chimney’s face. “Wait, what? Dispatch? Dispatch please repeat.”

If there was any response from dispatch, Chimney didn’t hear it. In a heartbeat, the sirens echoing through the streets of Los Angeles seemed to go silent. A burst of heat lit up the night, the sound of the sirens replaced by a deafening explosion from the ladder rig. The blast originated at the base of the truck, causing an inferno to billow up from below. The rig tumbled like a toy onto its side, skidding to a halt in an empty intersection, the vibrations from the impact thrumming through the street below.

As the initial fire from the explosion began to dissipate, smoke began to rise from the ground in its place, turning the street hazy.

Hen looked on in horror from beside the ambulance, eyes searching for the other members of the one-eighteen. As she stood there, taking in the scene before her, a dark-haired man came into view, stalking around the back of the overturned fire truck. Over his dark clothing he wore a suicide vest, a detonator clutched in his hand. She was studying the scene so vigilantly that she didn’t even notice Chimney, who was now at her side.

She watched the man move closer, his attention locked on a body that lay on the ground, thrown about ten feet from the ladder rig, barely moving. Buck’s body.

“No, no, no …” she breathed out, instinct carrying her forward.

“Hen,” Chim said firmly, his hand resting on her arm, “no.”

“But-”

“That is a direct order,” he told her. A moment later he stepped away, radio in hand. 

“Dispatch? This is the captain of the one-eighteen, what’s the play? We have people lying in the street, they’re in need of medical attention.”

"Hold your position, one-eighteen." Chimney sighed at the response, dropping his hand to his side.

His eyes scanned the chaos, and he was unable to account for all of the members of his crew.

**

Buck let out a low groan from where he lay on the road, barely able to lift his head after it had bounded off of the pavement. His vision was blurred from the impact, his head pounding incessantly as he struggled to focus on the approaching figure.

An unnerving chuckle escaped from Freddie Costas’ lips. “Oh, you’re new.” The line of his mouth curled up slowly, head tilting as he watched Buck writhe.

“Help,” Buck managed to choke out.

Freddie’s chuckle turned into an outright laugh. “That’s cute. Don’t. Move,” he snarled, before he turned and walked away from Buck, eyes scanning the crowd of LAFD and LAPD personnel that had gathered around the scene. “Where is the captain? Give me the captain!” His voice grew agitated as he yelled out.

Chim sucked in a breath before he stepped away, dodging Hen’s attempt to catch his arm as she hissed his name. Of all of the scenarios he’d imagined when he thought about bossing people around and being captain of the one-eighteen while Bobby was suspended, he’d envisioned nothing like this. He stepped forward, his arms raised above his head.

Walking back to Buck, Freddie watched as he shifted slightly in the street. “I thought I told you not to move!” Freddie kicked Buck in the ribs, hard, venting his frustration.

Chimney skirted the debris scattered on the road, slowly approaching Freddie and Buck. “I’m the captain, okay? Please, I’m the captain of the one-eighteen. Let me help them.” Although there were others injured, Chim’s eyes focused on Buck, who lay unmoving on the pavement. He was located on the side of the overturned truck, enduring the worst of the impact and injuries. “Please,” Chim begged.

Freddie’s eyebrows knit together in rage. “No, no I don’t want you. I want CAPTAIN NASH,” he bellowed.

**

Bobby stood with Athena, about twenty feet behind the line of police cars and flashing lights. They had both been standing there almost from the start of the stand-off, watching in horror. Waiting for Freddie to turn himself in, or for some opportunity to negotiate with him. Due to the unknown nature of the detonation device and the method for triggering the explosives, the LAPD couldn’t even risk sliding him a phone to communicate with.

The moment that Freddie demanded Bobby, his intent became clear. Revenge. Bobby took a steadying breath before leaning towards Athena. “I love you,” he said, hurried but genuine. Athena watched, frozen, as Bobby walked away from the safety of the police cordon and into Freddie’s line of fire.

“Captain Nash! Don’t confront him!” Agent Boyd called out as he walked past the police cars and towards the fire truck.

“He wants me, not Buck.”

“He wants you dead!” Boyd called uselessly after Bobby, who continued his long strides towards the fire truck. Towards Freddie. Towards Buck.

“Let’s give him what he wants.”

“Captain Nash!”

“Shoot me if you have to!” he shouted, casting a single glance over his shoulder, his purposeful steps finally bringing him in front of the fire truck. He watched Buck curl up into himself as Freddie directed several more agonizing kicks to his midsection, causing Buck to shout out in pain.

Bobby bit back a wave of nausea at Buck’s plea for help. “Freddie,” he called, with as much calm as he could feign.  Bobby stood still, with his hands in the air, his eyes fixed on Freddie’s.

“I thought you’d be on the truck.” Freddie turned on his heels as he spoke, until he was face to face with Bobby.

“I’m here now,” Bobby said, lowering his hands as he took a few steps forward. “What’s next?”

“Good question.” Freddie’s voice was tight, and he moved to meet Bobby.

“This is what you wanted,” Bobby reminded him, both of them coming to a stop about ten feet apart. Freddie caught a glimpse of movement near Buck and looked back.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He turned, waving the detonator wildly. “Get away from him, or we all go boom.” Eddie’s breath caught as he glanced at the kid, at the vest he was wearing, and recognized that he clearly had the upper hand.

“Freddie.” The kid’s eyes snapped back to Bobby’s. “You don’t want to hurt them.”

Freddie shrugged carelessly, as though it were an afterthought. “My intention was to kill you. On that truck.”

“I-I get that, Freddie.”

“Since that didn’t work out for me, I think I’ve come up with an alternate plan.” Freddie pressed his lips together, eyeing Bobby speculatively. “You know, in all of my spare time, I’ve been doing a little research, on you and that life of yours. You’re engaged now, which I guess is pretty impressive, considering your past.

“I’ve also found out that you have quite the relationship with some of the members of your firehouse. You consider them family, don’t you? Like children.” Bobby tried to keep his face blank at Freddie’s words, but he didn’t like the direction the conversation seemed to be going. 

“Freddie- forget everyone else. You’ve got me, and that is what you came here for. Revenge against me. What are you waiting for?” he asked.

Bobby didn’t want to die. He was knee deep in wedding plans, enjoying the opportunity to take the time and do it right. He was determined to choose the right venue, the right food, the right vows. He wanted everything to be perfect, for Athena and for him.

It was unfair, that after years of wanting to die it was now that he was faced with Freddie Costas. Years of writing names in a notebook to keep track of how close he was to being able to end his life. It was now, when he had finally found happiness, that Freddie had come looking for his death, only a year after he’d accepted that he was allowed to live.  That he was allowed to have joy in his life, love and friendship and family.

But now here he was, facing death. The only thing that he feared more than dying here, leaving Athena to live her life without him, was watching it happen to Buck instead. Buck, who had done nothing to deserve this.

“You’re right, I am here for revenge against you,” Freddie agreed, “but revenge comes in many forms, Captain Nash.”

“Freddie-” The young man raised his arm, and Bobby was silenced.

“Get him up,” he told Eddie. “We’re going to have a little change of wardrobe.” It took Bobby a moment to realize what he was alluding to. The vest. His heart started beating that much harder in his chest, the very thought sending his brain into overdrive.

“Freddie, wait,” he pleaded, stepping closer to Freddie. Bobby glanced at Buck for a moment, watched him twitch where he lay on the hard pavement, blood leaking out onto the street. “You don’t want to do this. He never did anything to you. He wasn’t even a firefighter when your father burned down that restaurant. He’s got a family- parents, a sister ...”

Freddie smirked, clearly enjoying Bobby's turmoil. “Maybe, but it’s collateral damage,” he explained. “I can’t make you watch me punish your son, since he’s dead already. But there is a guy who works at the firehouse who’s almost a son to you, right Captain Nash?”

“Freddie,” Bobby tried again. “The best way to get revenge on me is to punish me.”

“No, no it’s not.” Freddie laughed. “If you had just been in the damn fire truck none of this would be happening right now,” he scolded. “But that’s not what happened, is it? And, I can tell you from personal experience, the best way to make someone suffer is to hurt the people they love.

“Now my dad, he was a good man. He was desperate, but he did what he had to do to try to provide for his family, to try to find a way out of the mess we were in!” Freddie dragged a hand over the back of his neck roughly. “But you couldn’t just let it be, could you? If there’s one person that is responsible for my dad being dead, it is you!”

Bobby felt the panic rising in him as Freddie stripped the vest from his chest. “You,” he said, through a tight jaw, nodding at Eddie, “put this on him.”

The look on Eddie’s face was stricken. “I-” He shook his head. “No, I won’t do it.”

“That’s too bad,” Freddie murmured, closing the distance between himself and Buck. “I wonder what I should do to him instead.”

Bobby locked eyes with Freddie, and saw nothing but rage there. “Freddie, please-”

The onlookers cringed as Freddie began to unleash his aggression on Buck. The kicks were hard and unrelenting, centered on Buck’s midsection. Buck let out a scream, a sickening crack echoing through the air around him. His breathing was shallow, coming out as desperate gasps as he struggled with the pain. Soon, the agony in his midsection was matched only by the impact of boots to his face, which he was too spent to fend off.

“Please,” Bobby begged.

“Please?” Freddie echoed, with a bitter laugh. “You think the pain gets to stop because you say please? My mom and I, we lost everything because of you.” His eyes snapped up to Bobby’s, then left his face to find Eddie. “Put this on him.”

Eddie didn’t speak, but shook his head. His hazel eyes welled with tears as he looked down at Buck. How could this monster expect him to strap a bomb to his best friend? Eddie’s eyes met Bobby’s, a silent plea for help, for him to somehow fix all of this.

Another round of relentless kicks began, and Buck’s wounded screams could be heard above all of the chatter and noise of the surrounding scene. Freddie ceased kicking and looked down at the battered fireman, a slight tilt to his head as he studied the damage. Buck tried to move, and cried out in agony. His bloodied face lifted slightly from the pavement, vision clouded by floating white spots in his field of view. It took him a long moment, but he finally found the figure that looked most like Eddie. “Eddie, please, just do what he says,” he sputtered, coughing painfully.

Bobby took a few steps closer. “How about you have him put that vest on me?” He suggested. “I’m the one you want to punish. That guy didn’t do anything.”

Freddie glanced between the three firefighters. “You’re reminding me of when my dad used to try to protect me from things that might hurt me,” he told Bobby, a mixture of grief and hatred in his eyes. “He’s not here to do that anymore, though, and pretty soon this guy’s not going to be here for you to protect, either.”

Bobby felt himself growing frantic, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. The sound was so distracting that, just for a moment, he couldn’t hear anything else. Desperate, pleading eyes found Freddie’s, but Freddie seemed devoid of any emotion besides hatred. How was this happening right now, and to Buck? He didn’t deserve this. He was just a kid.

**

“Buck, I-” Eddie cut himself off, at a loss for the right words to say as he crouched beside his friend. The injuries were severe, and Eddie knew that he needed medical attention sooner rather than later. Buck was telling him to put the vest on him, but Eddie felt nearly paralyzed with fear at the idea that Buck wasn’t going to make it out of this alive.

If he didn’t put the vest on Buck, though, Freddie was just going to keep kicking, and Eddie didn’t know how much more of that Buck could take before his body just gave out.

“Do it,” Buck managed, his voice strangled. The pain in his voice caused tears to prick behind Eddie’s eyes, and he swallowed hard to push them down.

“Okay, I-I’ll put it on him.” Eddie struggled to get the words out. His eyes locked on Buck’s face, and it took everything in him to not completely break down. It took everything in him to fight the instinct to clean Buck up and wrap him in his arms, whisper to him that everything was going to be okay. Eddie’s heart hammered against his chest, and he swallowed down the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake him.

He had faced many intense situations in the army; the rig exploding and his present inability to help Buck brought him back to those times. To times when his convoy would be driving along, and he’d see other vehicles taken out by roadside bombs. It all felt too familiar, and the dread that had settled in his stomach seemed unshakeable. In the army it was brutal, but not unexpected. He’d never expected to have to face this here, in Los Angeles, responding to a simple car accident.

And to have it be Buck lying in the street like this made it all the worse; as much as he cared for his friends, he would have found it easier to force his emotions down if Hen or Chim were here instead.

Gingerly, he tried to move Buck into a more upright position, an effort which left Buck gasping unevenly. Buck’s eyes locked on Eddie’s, searching for some kind of comfort. His lips twitched slightly and at first, Eddie couldn’t put his finger on what he was trying to do. When he realised, he shook his head, even with Freddie at their sides with the vest. The son-of-a-bitch was trying to smile, to ease Eddie’s fear.

**

Bobby looked on helplessly, as Freddie stepped closer to the two youngest members of his crew, both of whom Bobby considered family. 

“Freddie-” His eyes scanned their surroundings, searching desperately for something. He caught sight of Athena in the distance, standing just beyond the barrier the LAPD had created. He gave her a small nod, praying this wasn’t going to backfire, and that it wasn’t too late. “Freddie?” Bobby called again, drawing on the calm in Athena’s eyes to keep himself steady as he watched the vest being lowered onto Buck’s torso.

Freddie turned towards Bobby, still clutching the detonator tightly in his hand. “What is it, Captain Nash? Do you have some final words you’d like to share, or are you saving that for his eulogy?”

“I was just wondering if you had any final words for your mother, before she watches you die,” Bobby said, gesturing to where Athena and Romero approached, with Mrs. Costas between them.

“Freddie,” she pleaded as they approached, tears welling in her eyes.

“Mom,” Freddie responded, glancing away from Eddie and Buck, his attention focused entirely on his mother. His mouth hung open as he searched for the words, eyes hypnotized by her stricken face.

In an instant, Bobby’s arms were around Freddie, trying to hold him still as Bobby fought for control of the detonator. “No, no, no!” Freddie screamed as he struggled. Moments later, a SWAT team had moved in, guns aimed at Freddie.

“Don’t move!”

Bobby’s hand gripped Freddie’s tightly in his. “Dead man’s trigger, dead man’s trigger!” he shouted, eyes locked on the man in front of them as he carefully removed the detonator from Freddie’s hand, maintaining the pressure as he moved away. The others quickly moved in on Freddie, cuffing him roughly before pulling him away from the scene.

Bobby turned on his heel, quick strides bringing him to Buck and Eddie. Athena was right behind him, and Bobby heard the faint radio chatter as the one-eighteen was given the all clear to move in and help Buck.

“We’ve got to get this off of him,” Bobby said, eyes flashing. He felt a hand at his shoulder, grounding him. Athena.

“You still with us, Buck?” Chimney called as the rest of the crew quickly moved in to surround their wounded friend.

“Come on, Bobby. Let’s let them work,” Athena’s voice was filled with motherly concern as she watched them work on Buck, carefully removing the vest and placing a cervical collar on him. They moved him onto the backboard, and Athena’s hand found Bobby’s, fingers lacing through his.

“I can’t lose him, Athena.” Bobby’s voice shook even at the thought. He remembered all too clearly what it felt like to lose a child. Buck might not be his son by blood, but he had become Bobby’s family, just as Athena, May and Harry had. Watching him suffer and not being able to help, that was the worst pain of all. It brought him back to the helplessness of the night the fire had killed his family, and he felt that same panic coursing through him now. “I can’t.”

Bobby’s shoulders shuddered, as all the fear that had been rippling through him bubbled to the surface, now that the threat of Freddie’s bomb was gone. Athena lay her hand on his back, moving it in a soothing motion. “Don’t you dare,” she admonished, “don’t you dare give up on him this easily.”

Hen closed the doors to the ambulance, eyes moving to Athena’s with a look of fear, along with something else, a feeling of empathy for Bobby. “We’ll follow the ambulance to the hospital,” Athena said.

**

Eddie rode in the back of the ambulance with Chimney and Buck, trying to keep him conscious as Hen raced through the city streets to the hospital.

“Come on, Buckaroo, keep those eyes open for us,” Chim encouraged, glancing to Eddie for a quick second before focusing back on Buck.

“Hey, so …” Eddie struggled to find the right words to say to keep Buck with them. “So Chris was telling me about this project that they’re doing in school now, for science class, and he’s super excited. It’s about bugs. I swear that kid is so strange sometimes.”

Buck’s eyes found Eddie’s, even that simple effort causing him pain. He looked as though he wanted to say something, and struggled to find his voice beneath the oxygen mask. “He- isn’t-” His words came out in uneven rasps of breath.

“Don’t try to talk,” Eddie soothed, fingers reaching for his hand. “Just keep your eyes open and on me, alright? We’re pulling up to the hospital now. We’re gonna get you all taken care of, so you can tell Christopher a bunch of absolutely ridiculous and useless facts about bugs.” 

That was the last thing that Buck heard before everything went black.

**

Buck awoke in a groggy daze, eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the light. As he glanced around the quiet hospital room, they landed on the man sitting quietly in the chair beside the bed, a book in his hands that he didn’t seem to be reading. “Cap.” His voice was hoarse when he spoke.

“Buck, you’re awake.” Bobby smiled as he rose to his feet, grabbing a styrofoam cup from where it sat on the movable tray beside his bed. “Here, take a sip,” he urged, holding the straw to Buck’s lips as he managed a few small swallows before Bobby removed the cup.

It had only been a day since Freddie had blown up their lives. Bobby hadn’t left the hospital in that time, although he’d been urged to go home and take a shower, with promises that he’d be contacted as soon as there was any change. Bobby already felt like he had failed Buck, there was no way that he wasn’t going to be there for him when he woke up. Bobby’s eyes scanned over Buck’s bruised face, and he struggled to push away a sense of self loathing. “I’m so sorry, kid.”

A look of confusion washed over Buck’s face as he looked at Bobby. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked.

“For putting you in that situation, Buck. For putting you in danger,” Bobby stammered.

Buck tried to haul himself more upright in the bed, but grimaced as a sharp pain shot up through his ribcage. His hand moved to cover his midsection. “Bobby, you didn’t put me in danger. That lunatic did,” Buck protested.

“Freddie was after me, not you. And he hurt you because he knows how much you mean to me. So your pain, what he did to you, that’s on me, Buck.”

The younger man shifted in the bed, trying to find some sweet spot that didn’t exist. “What I remember is being in an emergency, and having the ladder rig explode, and then being thrown from it. I remember laying on the ground, helpless,” Buck began. “I remember feeling like I was going to die, right there in the street. The one-eighteen couldn’t get to me, the cops were hanging back because of the bomb.

“Then, out of nowhere, like a guardian angel I see this civilian walking towards me. And then I realize it’s not a civilian, Bobby, it’s you. And even though my body was screaming in pain, I wasn’t afraid of dying. Because you were there. You walked away from safety and into the line of fire, because you were determined to save me. You were there to protect me, and you have never once failed me.”

“Evan,” Bobby dabbed at his tears with his sleeve, clearing his throat before he continued. “Aside from yesterday, there has been one other time in my life where I felt that terrified and helpless. And that was the night of the fire, the night that Marci, Bobby, and Brook died. For a long time after they died, I told myself I would never let anyone get that close to me again … but then it happened. Because I let you in, Buck. And you are like a son to me. I don’t know what I would have done if-” Bobby let out a shallow gasp, “-if I lost you, like I lost them.”

“You didn’t lose me, Bobby,” Buck reminded him, meeting Bobby’s gaze and realizing just how lucky he really was, “and you never will. I promise.” Somehow he had been lucky enough to find Bobby as a father figure, this man who would give everything without hesitation to help him. To save him. Buck didn’t want to even consider how things might have played out if Bobby hadn’t been there to intervene.

“You know, I wasn’t the only one in the line of fire yesterday,” Bobby reminded him, his thoughts going to the other firefighter who had been intimately involved in the nightmare of the day before. If Bobby had been a less observant man, he wouldn’t have seen the flash of emotion that burned in Buck’s eyes. “He’s been really worried about you, kid.”

Buck thought of Eddie’s face, recalling the broken look it had worn yesterday throughout the entire ordeal. “I don’t know what I would have done if the roles had been reversed.”

Bobby hesitated, as though he were struggling with something. “Maybe this near-death experience is a good opportunity to make sure you don’t have any regrets.”

“Cap-”

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Buck.” Bobby paused as he thought about the way that Eddie had looked at Buck the day before, like if he lost him the earth might as well open up and swallow him whole. The same way Bobby felt about a life without Athena. “But, would you have been okay with dying there and never having told him how you feel?”

Buck opened his mouth to speak and then promptly closed it when he realized he didn’t know what to say. Because maybe Bobby was right about this. Or maybe, maybe he was terribly wrong, and bringing those feelings to the surface would irrevocably alter their friendship forever. “I just don’t know if it’s worth the risk,” he admitted.

Bobby tried a different approach. “When you look at me and Athena, do you ever think to yourself how much better off we’d be if we hadn’t admitted our feelings for each other? If we had never taken that risk?”

“What? No, but … Eddie and I, it’s more complicated than that,” Buck stammered, “he’s got Chris, and-”

“And Athena has May and Harry, and we’ve built this amazing family. I think that you’re selling yourself, and Eddie, short. And maybe he’s not ready for anything right now, but having your feelings out in the open for when he is ready, where’s the harm in that?”

Bobby watched the protests on Buck’s tongue dissipate. He smiled down at the man that he considered a son. “You did say that I’ve never failed you before, Buck. And I promise, I’m not going to fail you now.”

At those words, a brilliant smile spread across Buck’s otherwise blemished face. If there was anyone who could help Buck find beauty and love in amongst the fallout of the anger and hatred that had consumed Freddie Costas, Bobby could.

And he did.

#911 #fanfic #bobby nash #evan buckley #eddie diaz #emotional whump #prompt fill #buddie

[randomvarious]

Prefuse 73 - “Livin’ Life” Rapid Transit - A Chocolate Industries Compilation 2000 Glitch-Hop / Abstract Hip Hop / IDM

It’s hard to find someone who’s been able to straddle the worlds of hip hop, electronic music, and indie rock so naturally as Prefuse 73, but diversity has always been key to Guillermo Scott Herren’s identity, whether it be his ethnicity or his music. Born to a Catalan father and an Irish and Cuban mother, Herren was raised in Decatur, Georgia, a town just outside of Atlanta, where his adoptive mother forced him to learn multiple instruments. Throughout his upbringing, he learned violin, guitar, piano, and drums. Herren would become keen on hip hop and his sister would get him into punk rock. 

A mix of his eclectic tastes and musical talent led Herren to become one of hip hop music’s most progressive makers. Dissatisfied with conventionality, Herren, whose ears were more open to indie scenes and experimental sounds than most other hip hop junkies, found himself fusing hip hop ideas with other niche genres, and ending up with a totally unique thing. It would piss off  the genre purists (”you got hip hop in my IDM!” / “you got IDM in my hip hop!”), but his innovation was undeniable. And although his first album as Prefuse 73, 2001′s Vocal Studies + Uprock Narratives, was an abject commercial failure, it earned high praise by the vast majority of critics.

Prior to the release of his debut album as Prefuse 73, Herren released an EP on both Warp and Chocolate Industries called Escotaro. Closing out the release is a track called “Living Life”. Just a few short weeks later, its title was slightly altered, replacing a “g” with an apostrophe, and appeared on a Chocolate Industries compilation of IDM and hip hop called Rapid Transit.

Under his Prefuse 73 moniker, Herren would become known for his unique style of sampling by re-appropriating gobs of different hip hop lyrics into unintelligible abstractions that would act as jutting cogs in his beats rather than voices to complement them. As one listens, they can’t help but follow the cadences and tones of the vocals. How the words actually sound as part of a beat’s fabric is far more important than the words themselves.

This totally unique approach is found in a song like “Livin’ Life”. Herren makes a song that’s definitively hip hop, but shares vastly similar qualities with IDM. In fact, it’s probably what landed him on Warp Records in the first place. Warp had struck gold in the 90s by cornering the IDM market with artists and groups like Aphex Twin, Autechre, and Squarepusher. But the label’s move to New York was impetus to diversify their sound. And so, Herren seemed to be a natural choice to add to their roster.

“Livin’ Life” provides a boom bap, head-nod-inducing drum thump and mixes mellow and fluttery, emotively old school synth tones with a variety of sampled hip hop lyrics and turntable scratches. Each of these pieces have either a glitchiness or choppiness to them, but while the drum track and the synths play the most predictable and unvaried parts, it’s the samples and scratches that keep us on our toes. Herren freely manipulates his long list of samples, incomparably cutting and splicing them to a point in which the most seasoned hip hop head is unable to recognize their provenance. 

Herren’s abilities as a turntablist didn’t come all that naturally either. That prowess came as a direct result of his friendship with a little-known Atlanta wunderkind named DJ Klever, who would go on to become a U.S. DMC turntable champion. Herren and Klever would impart their wisdom as music creators unto each other, and both added new hip hop skills to their respective arsenals. Herren’s acquired scratching talent provided a new dimension to his already diverse skillset and only increased his viability as a top-notch, cutting-edge hip hop musician. Evidence to prove that fact can be found in “Livin’ Life”.

A track with this level of creativity is timeless.

#glitch hop #glitch #hip hop #abstract hip hop #idm #indie hip hop #underground hip hop #glitch music #abstract music #electronic #electronic music #music #2000s #2000s music #2000's #2000's music #00s #00s music #00's #00's music #2000s glitch hop #2000's glitch hop #00s glitch hop #00's glitch hop #2000s glitch #2000's glitch #00s glitch #00's glitch #2000s hip hop #2000's hip hop

[lizzylucky]

6. Dragged Away

WHUMPTOBER Day 6! Prompt - Dragged Away. I have to admit I deviated a little bit from this one on main topic, but I did still manage to make the prompt important!

Summary: Krel, Eli, and Steve are on their way to get dinner when something completely out of the ordinary happens- and Krel finds himself facing something he hasn’t before.

Warnings: None.

Disclaimers: I do not own 3Below, Tales of Arcadia, or any of Guillermo Del Toro’s characters. Man, that’d be cool though.

Enjoy!

~~~

Steve, Eli, and Krel were walking through Arcadia towards Stuart’s burrito truck for a late dinner.

“And then I said to him,” Steve was saying, balling both fists, “‘nobody talks trash about my mom!’ I got him, right in the nose! You can bet he didn’t have anything else to say about my family.”

“Wow, Steve!” Eli said admiringly, applauding lightly.

Krel exhaled and shook his head. “I don’t see why you have to resolve every matter with your fists! Would it not have been smarter just to let it alone?”

Steve gave him an expression of faux-offense. “Krel! Buddy!” He walked around Eli and threw an arm over Krel’s shoulders. Krel gave him a questioning look. “He offended my mom. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t wanna hit somebody if your mom was called a fat-”

“Hey, Steve?” Eli interrupted, tugging on Steve’s arm.

Steve bit his lip and swallowed down a look of annoyance. “Yeah, what’s up?” He turned around to face Eli, who was pointing off into the trees that made up the line separating the town from the woods. 

The three of them stopped walking to stare. A single dot of yellow light shone from the blackness between a couple of the trees nearest them. Then another appeared beside it, to the left. And then two more, off in opposite directions.

“What-?” Steve squinted at the lights. All at once, dozens upon dozens of little yellow lights in varying degrees of vibrancy came into existence. A wooden groan seemed to echo through the entire forest, going in a wave. The ground rattled as the trees all seemed to start falling apart, glowing yellow from the inside.

“Steve-!” Eli tugged all the harder on Steve’s shirt, anxiously watching more and more lights come to life. Some of them began to grow in size and consume the other spots around them.

“What is happening?” Krel exclaimed, taking a step back when the entire Earth seemed to shake.

Neither Steve nor Eli answered him, or even seemed to hear him for that matter. The ground shook at the same time a reverberating boom filled the air.

“What was that?” Steve shrieked, bending his knees to avoid being tipped over. He took a step backwards and then looked quickly left and right, panicked expression increasing tenfold.

“Where’s Krel!?”

“I’m right here!” Krel said, looking up at Steve- Wait- Looking down.

With a start he realized Steve was shorter than he was again. He glanced at his hands and he was not only in his Akiridion form, but his entire body glowed the same yellow colour that they saw in the lights in the forest.

“We have to find Krel!” Steve insisted. He pulled Eli away from him and began to run directly at Krel.

“I haven’t gone anywhere!” Krel said desperately. “Why can’t you-” 

Steve ran past Krel, through Krel. A shivery sensation ran through every nerve in Krel’s body and he shuddered.

“Steve, wait!” Eli yelped, belatedly following after Steve. This time Krel jumped back with a gasp, narrowly avoiding being walked through a second time. What was happening?

Unsure of what else to do, Krel took off after them, watching more of the world outside of the forest speckle with yellow light.

The ground shook again, harder this time, and all three boys fell to the ground. This time more than a boom rang in the air. A deep laugh accompanied it, sending chills up Krel’s spine.

“Morando!” he recognized. He grit his teeth and stood up, spinning to face the direction he thought he heard Morando’s voice coming from. Sure enough, Morando, in god form, stood walking through the trees. Little specks of yellow light were appearing all over his body, like the rest of the world around them all.

“No! I thought we got rid of him!” Eli cried out. Steve let out an exasperated- well, almost a screech. 

“Will we ever get a break?” he cried out, voice pitching. “We’re supposed to be going back to school in a matter of days! Days, Eli!”

Suddenly Krel was realizing what else was off. Eli went with Aja back to Akiridion-5, didn’t he? He looked down, gazing at his yellow hands in thought. Why was-

The Earth shook again and Krel nearly lost his balance. This time, air seemed to sweep through everything and hit him so powerfully he felt his breath pulled away from him.

Blinking hard, he looked back up to see what Morando had done, but he realized there was nothing there.

Really, nothing! Morando was gone! The trees were gone, Arcadia was gone, the sky itself was gone! He was surrounded by blackness, the only light coming from his body, which reflected softly off the floor and gave an immediate sense of unease. He turned in a full circle and, half way around, caught sight of Steve and Eli, all but clinging to each other in terror of the blackness surrounding them. Then he realized that Aja and Varvatos and Toby- they were standing behind Steve and Eli, all looking around blindly.

“Aja!” he called, hoping somehow she would hear him. She didn’t. He stumbled forward and began to jog in their direction. “Please, I’m here! Why can’t you see me? Or hear me? What is going on?!” He waved a hand in front of Steve’s face. No response. He walked around and tried to grab Aja by the shoulders, but his hands passed right through her. 

The entire scene flashed to brilliant red for a fraction of a second and then back to black, startling Krel so badly he let out a cry and spun to have his back facing his friends.

“Fire,” boomed Morando’s voice.

Long, three dimensional strands of that same yellow light, resembling ropes, shot out from 5 different directions, and each wrapped around some part of each of Krel’s friends right in front of him.

Krel watched in horror as they were all dragged away by the strands. First Eli, who screamed for help as he went. Then Steve and Toby, who reached out at each other and missed as they were pulled behind inky black walls. 

Varvatos let out a pained cry as the strand around his arm grew in length and wrapped around  his entire body. It seemed to squeeze at him until it won. Varvatos seemed to just- turn into dust. He was just gone, as though his entire body had turned into sand and blown away in the nonexistent wind.

Then there was aja, who had her arms strapped to her torso by the strand, which began to slowly tug her backwards and away from Krel.

“Aja! No!” He ran forward to try and grab her arms or her shoulders or just her foot or something, but his efforts were entirely fruitless.

Aja looked up and their eyes met for a fraction of a secton. 

“Krel…”

And she was gone.

“No! Morando, bring her back!” Krel called out, enraged. He ran toward the direction Aja had disappeared into while Morando’s voice laughed tauntingly in the air, then found himself falling over the edge of an invisible cliff.

He screamed as he fell and squeezed his eyes shut. The terrified faces of each of his friends flashed through his face and then-

He hit something soft and half bounced.

Breathing heavily he sat bolt upright and took in the scene before him.

He was laying on his bed. In the mothership. The clock read 3:24 AM. 

“It was a dream,” he muttered. He should have been relieved but his gut twisted with unease and sweat ran down his brow- something he was still getting used to. He looked back and forth anxiously but found no danger. He swallowed hard, almost whining. 

Aja and Eli and Varvatos Vex were on Akiridion-5, safe.

Steve and Toby were in their homes, sleeping. They’d gotten burritos earlier with Krel. They were safe.

Krel looked at his hands. They were four in number and they were blue, like they were supposed to be. 

He let out a shaky chuckle and tried to shake the dream out of his head.

Morando was gone. Morando was gone. 

Even as he lay back down, the images of his friends being dragged away from him came back up and he shivered.

Somehow he didn’t imagine he’d be getting much more sleep that night.

#whumptober #whumptober2019 #no.6 #day 6 #number 6 #6 #six #dragged away #fanfiction #fiction #writing #challenge #october #whump #3below #3 below #krel #krel tarron #steve #palchuk #aja #eil #pepperjack #toby #domzalski #varvatos #vex #nightmare #angst #tales of arcadia

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Hearthway Hollow Chef Ryker Chapter 3

And at last, here’s the last part of my bastardized version of my commission from @momolady​ has been awesome in letting me post it and doing the commission in the first place and if you want your own werewolf in the idealic picturesque Hearthway Hollow or whatever other universes she has- COMMISSION HER please for the love of chocolate and all that is holy do it, she’s awesome and amazing - in the name of the smores- specifically the chocolate, the marshmallow and grahmcracker amen. 

I have been saving these pictures for forever. especially of that kitchen with the blue countertops that is my dream kitchen right there and when you get a foodie home cook marrying a chef- their kitchen is going to be off the charts amazing. I mean look at that pantry and that spice nook. Come on. Doesn’t that make you want to cook? It makes me want to cook. Thanks for reading. 

“I think that’s the very last box,” I sigh as I hand the box over to the mover before I take one last look around the old place to make sure I got everything, all the memories I had of this house seemingly to dance in my memory as I look it over as I realize- it was just a house that was my home but now I’m going to my new home and I can’t open a new chapter of my life without closing the last one and with the last shut of my door- it’s like the place transforms and it’s just a house again- ready for a new family to call it home- a family that isn’t mine and I feel a sense of relief and excitement. Del is staying with my parents while the move is going and they’ll bring her down to Hearthway Hollow once things are done.

The idea of the move came as a shock to my friends and family, but it wasn’t a completely unexpected one but where I was moving to was, being from Michigan, where most of my sisters still were, they expected me to move up north, instead- I was moving further south, my baby sister who was in Tenessee was the happiest because now we were closer together. Ever since Del and I took the vacation to Hearthway Hollow, we had both had been enamored by the place and I took it as a sign because the car that had died there was something that Michael had said that ‘it would get me from point A to B.’ And Hearthway was the very last point B. And I wasn’t going to argue with fate on that. But it also didn’t help me gain any support from my inlaw’s side of the family that I had met someone while I was there. Ryker Guillermo was the head chef of his own restaurant in the town as well as being one of the many werewolves there. For the few weeks I stayed, Ryker and I had grown very close and were practically inseparable. After Del and I went home, Ryker and I continued to talk, we texted constantly. Video chatted a lot, and he had even come up to visit for a long weekend to meet everyone and had even gone to Cedar Point with Del and I in our first ‘new family tryouts’ which actually went much better than we thought it would because Del warmed right up to him and my family welcomed him with open arms which was to me- most of what mattered. 

Despite this, we had agreed to go slow due to all the circumstances surrounding me, I had Del, I was still grieving the passing of my husband, plus my overprotective “extended family” and “friends” on my husbands’ side who had their issues with me ‘moving on too quickly’,  not to mention I wanted to give Ryker a chance to understand my health issues and mental state. But he never wavered, not once. 

So after giving it a lot of careful thought and discussing it with Del, we decided to move to Hearthway Hollow. Ryker was my rock through everything, he got me all the info I needed, he had a custom built house that had just gotten finished a week before I moved down and that was my dream house come to life and he didn’t hesitate to put my name as a cosigner so that it was our house and had me make a few changes to it to really make it mine too meant the world to me. Pluse he added me as a cosigner on his checking and savings accounts too before I moved my own accounts over to the local bank and credit union, although to find out how much I really had to my name was a pleasant surprise but he didn’t get dollar signs in his eyes like everyone else had feared, if anything he looked at the way I had invested it and helped me to restructure it so that all that money was working better for me and he just made this whole stressful situation a breeze and surprisingly pain free. Del was signed up for school in the fall and was looking forward to it since she had made so many friends while she was down there, especially at camp. 

Just as I was getting ready to leave the house my phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Ryker sighs. “How is everything going on your end?”

I break into a big grin. “Just getting ready to head out with the movers,” I tell him. “How are things on your end?”

“Really good, thank you for sending the beer, I sure hope you’re not planning on drinking a lot of it by the time you get down here,” he chuckles. “Shahan and I just finished emptying the last truck you sent. It’s heading on back now.”

“Y'all work fast,” I chuckle.

“Yeah well, Billy and a bunch of others came over to help out, thus why there won’t be much beer, they’re all very pleased by that provision, thank you.” Ryker grunts and I hear the crackle of plastic and him saying his goodbyes in the background as the others say ‘hi’ and ‘thanks for the beer!’ in the background which makes me smile because I had gone to Jungle Jims and had gotten a freaking palate of different kinds of beer, with the way Ryker helped me restructure my investments including making a new one that was paying out way better than the old, I could definitely afford the splurge. “You are really going to owe me that massage now Beautiful.” Ryker grins as I hear him shut the door and lock it.  

I laugh as my cheeks blossom bright red. “Did you talk to Kai yet?” I ask. “About the job?”

“Oh yeah, he’s extremely excited to have you join the team. Says he can take more time off for his boyfriend now,” Ryker laughs. “But he says he’s ready to have you start in the fall when Del goes back to school just like you asked.”

I sigh with relief. “It’ll be nice to get back to work again. While Del is in school I won’t know what to do with myself.” I walk out of the house and head towards the moving truck.

“Well uh,” Ryker starts off slowly, “you do know you’ll have a boyfriend right?”

My stomach flip flops around again, you’d think I’d be used to it after the last couple of months but no, meanwhile my heart jumps into my throat. “Do I?” I giggle breathlessly, although part of me is hoping that term boyfriend would get upgraded to ‘fiance’ sooner than later. 

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles. “One that’s going to cook for you and take care of you and everything.”

“Oh?” I get into my car to start the procession to Hearthway Hollow. “And what is everything?” I start the car and the phone connects to the bluetooth.

“Well, if you’re ready, I figured we’d mate,” Ryker’s husky voice comes through the speakers loud and clear. 

I was relieved the movers were in the truck so they didn’t hear Ryker boom over the speakers. I hurriedly turn down the volume and catch my breath. “I’m not that kind massage therapist, you know. I’m legitimate, I could lose my license.” I tease to dissuade my excitement.

Ryker laughs. “Well what you do in the privacy of your own bedroom ain’t none of the board’s business and besides, I’m not going to be a client, I’ll happily just be your whatever you need me to be.” Ryker argues and I’m just praying he’s alone and no one else is listening to this. 

I try to hold back a delighted squeal and fail as I cover my blushing face with my hands and shake my head at a stop light for a quick second. “Rye! I’m trying to drive! You need to behave just a little bit so I can get us out of here and home to you sooner than later.” I whine. 

“I’ll let you be then, because I’m way too excited and I won’t behave at all so-” he sighs. “Be safe, Zara. I can’t wait to see you.” He cooes. 

“Me too,” I murmur softly. “I’ll be home soon.” I hang up the phone and lead the movers towards Hearthway Hollow. We do a straight shot, stopping a few times for the usual food and bathroom break, but we end up in Hearthway Hollow late that night. 

Ryker comes out of the house with a great big grin on his face, having tracked my progress on a GPS map. He rushes out, grabbing me in a great big hug while lifting me up in the air. “I’m so glad to see you!” He kisses me, and I have not felt this good since the last time I was with him. He makes me feel young and new again, and safe and protected and cared for and treasured and loved and adored and sexy and I could go on and on for days. 

“I’m so tired!” I whine. “And hungry.”

Ryker kisses my cheeks. “I have all that covered.” He leads me inside where he has a small table set up with chairs. There’s food laid out on top with candles and drinks. “It was a little difficult timing when to take the food out of the oven, I didn’t want it to get cold. But I think I got it just right.” Ryker grins proudly. 

Ryker pulls my chair out for me as I sit down. “Oh wow,” I gasp. “This is so nice! Thank you!” I tilt my chin up to meet another kiss.

“I also have the bed set up for you too. I have not found where you packed your blankets and sheets so I had Amelie help me pick some out.” He sits down beside me to serve food. He loads my plate with some sort of orzo dish, kebabs, and some sort of cheesy melting ooze that I’m sure Del would go nuts for.

“This is so sweet,” I say with tears in my eyes. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

Ryker beams as he pours me more wine. “I wanted to make it up to you,” he murmurs. “I didn’t get to do the courtship ritual as planned, but I wanted to do something.” He sits back in his chair. “I couldn’t just get off scottfree.”

“You’ve done so much though.” I take hold of his hand. “I don’t mind missing out on a few dead deer. Although, I wouldn’t say no to those, now that we have a freezer to put them in.” I add as I waggle my eyebrows suggestively.  

Ryker grins as he laces his fingers with mine. “Well, it’s more than that,” he murmurs. “It’s about showing your mate how you can provide for them and take care of them.” He kisses the back of my hand. “It isn’t just you I have to prove myself to, it’s Del as well.”

“Del already thinks the world of you,” I say shaking my head. 

“Still, I don’t want her to question anything or have any doubts.” Ryker nods towards the hallway. “I got her something special made. When you’re done I’ll show you.”

I finish off my last bit of wine then stand up. “I’m good, let me see.”

Ryker takes me to Del’s new room that had just gotten painted a lovely pastel lilac purple only days before- where the boxes are still stacked in the middle of the room, but her bed is set up already and the frame around it has been made to look like a shark. 

“Oh my gosh!” I gasp, laughing softly. 

The shark is huge with a hole in the side where Del can get into her bed, beside it there is a small step ladder leading to a flat landing at the top.

“I figured we can either put another bed here or Del can use it as a play area.” Ryker pats the top. “The mouth part has a small closet area for her clothes of whatever she wants.”

“Where did you get this?” I gasp in awe. 

“Billy’s daughter Ellie made it for me, she’s a whiz with stuff like this,” Ryker says with a proud grin. His expression then morphs into one of anxiety. “Do you think Del will like it?”

I run into his arms, hugging him tight and nuzzling my face against his chest. “She’s going to love this!” As I look up at Ryker, we kiss. His soft lips brush against mine and his moustache tickles my upper lip but I’ve gotten used to it. I moan softly as his hands rub down my back then squeeze around my soft waist.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “You’re probably exhausted from the trip. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.” He leads me to the master bedroom where he has my bed set up with brand new crisp sheets and a new comforter that’s gorgeous. 

“This is nice,” I sigh as I get undressed. “I don’t get a shark bed?” I tease. 

Ryker snorts, his eyes lingering on me as I slip my shorts off. His strong hand touches my bare thigh as he fingers trace the line of my panties. “I figured you’d be happy having a wolf in your bed.” He rumbles. 

My heart is hammering fast. “Well when you put it like that,” I sigh.

Ryker kisses me. He then places a shirt in my hands. “I brought you one of my shirts, will that suit you?”

I bring the shirt up to my face, smelling his detergent with a whiff of spices. “It will.”

Ryker kisses me. “I’m going to go clean up. I’ll hop into bed with you when I’m done.” He turns the light out as he leaves.

I slip on his shirt and take my nightly meds and lay down in bed. I relax, but just enough to let my body sag. I didn’t want to fall asleep right away, I wanted to be awake when Ryker came to bed. Unfortunately, exhaustion won out so I passed out hard before I even heard the sink turn on.

I woke up in the morning as a crisp breeze drifted over me. As I opened my eyes I saw the window was open, letting in the brisk air. Ryker wasn’t in bed, but his side of the bed was still messy. I got out of bed and stretched until my back popped. Ryker shirt rose up over my belly and I tugged it down.

I went out of the bedroom, smelling coffee, pancakes and bacon as I went into the living room. In the kitchen I heard Ryker moving around so I peeked around the corner. He was half naked in the kitchen, just in his underwear. His broad and tattooed back was turned to me so I could see it flex as he moved, for as hairy as his chest and forearms and legs were, it was really nice that his back wasn’t. His underwear hugged around his butt, giving me a great view.

“I know you’re back there,” Ryker chuckles. He glances over his shoulder at me with a wink. “Good morning.”

“Muh-morning.” I step in. I see he’s wearing an apron as he cooks to protect his front at least. “You didn’t have to do this all by yourself, I could have helped.” I say as I walk into the kitchen.

“Nonsense. It’s the least I can do.” He grins at me. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a rock.” I walk up behind him,wrapping my arms around his waist while he cooks. I kiss his bare back, in the middle of his back and a shudder goes down his spine.

“You’ve found my weak spot,” Ryker chuckles nervously as I giggle before I kiss it again, my lips just a little open before I pull my hands from around him and start scratching his back before Ryker groaned and practically melted into a puddle in front of the huge stove. 

“Your back huh?” I giggle. “Really? That’s a coincidence.” I hum as I watch his reaction as I scratch his back and find his ‘itchy spots’ which are on the inside edges of his shoulder blades and the middle of his upper back and down his spine and I see that gooseflesh has broken out over his arms as he breathes a few shuddering breaths and pushes into my hands so that I’m scratching harder which I happily oblige. 

He nods with a cute, awkward smile on his face. “I’m sensitive there, especially the nape of my neck and lower back.”

“That won’t affect your massage will it?” I brush my fingertips with a featherlight touch on his sides before moving to his lower back just to watch him squirm as I grinned evilly. 

Ryker bites down on his bottom lip then gives me a softened glare over his shoulder before I stop and continue with my scratching. “It might.”

I kiss his back some more. “Do you have work today?” I ask.

Ryker shakes his head. “Today and tomorrow I have off. I wanted to make sure you got everything moved in.”

“You’re so sweet.” I finally release him so he can finish cooking. I get myself a big cup of orange juice then sit down in the breakfast nook and I’m delighted when he serves me breakfast. After 15 years of serving Michael every meal I ever made him, it’s Ryker who serves me for a change. Such a small gesture but meaning so much. 

After breakfast we get everything unloaded from the moving truck. A bunch of people come by to help, so it makes everything go by so much easier. By the end of the day I have all the boxes placed in the rooms they belonged in. And it was hilarious when Ryker was unpacking the vases I had made at art therapy before he found Michael’s urn and thought it was just another vase. 

“Wow this is gorgeous Zara!” Ryker had praised as he turned it over in his hands and appreciated the details I had put into the vase as the others stopped to see it and gave their stamps of approval too. 

“Thanks, be careful with that one though, it’s Michael’s urn.” I told him before he spazzed a little himself and nearly dropped it before the others went to rush to try and grab it before it smashed on the ground as I cackled before they managed to secure it and I took it from them and put it away in Del’s room on her bookshelf as Ryker was congratulated for being ‘so smooth’ but a quick kiss and reassurance from me and he was good, after that he regaled himself to the grill to grill up some hamburgers, hot dogs and brats for everyone who had come to help.  

“Del’s room, the bathroom, and the kitchen will need unpacking first,” I sigh to myself as I make a plan as I make notes in my notebook and try to organize my thoughts. 

“When does Lady Del get delivered?” Ryker asks as he collapses next to me and downs a bottle of water. 

“Next week,” I sigh. “So getting her things moved in and ready is the first thing.” I sit down on the sofa and slouch. “It all seems like so much.”

Ryker sits down beside me and puts his arm around me. “It’ll be easy once you get started. Just seems like so much right now because it’s all new. Just take breaks so you don’t get overwhelmed and I’ll help as much as I can.” He gently advises. 

I rest my head on his shoulder. “You’re so amazing. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.”

Ryker kisses the top of my head, gently brushing my hair aside. “I think I know,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to say anything.”

I place my hand on his thigh. “My massage table was unloaded,” I say. “How about I give you that long promised massage tomorrow, I need to recover from today.”

Ryker’s cheeks grow dark red and he clears his throat. “You sure? It can wait. I know you’re tired and you want to get things done so-” I silence him by kissing him.

“It’ll be a nice little break for both of us.” I run my fingers through his amazing dark thick hair. “You’ve earned several of them anyway.”

Ryker’s smile is soft as he looks at me. “Only if you’re sure.”

“Positive,” I say with a grin.

The next day I wake up with Ryker’s arms wrapped tightly around me. As I start to move he squeezes and buries his face against my neck. He whines softly, not wanting me to get up.

“Good morning,” I sigh wistfully. “Sleep well?”

His hot breath on my neck makes me shiver but his teeth as they drag down my skin makes me weak. His hand moves up, squeezing my breasts gently for a moment and I melt. 

“Oh Ryker,” I moan as I move my head back to offer more of my neck to him and push my butt into his groin and grin when there’s something very large and very hard poking my butt. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles softly. His hand moves away and rubs my belly tenderly. “Got a bit excited.” He kisses my neck. “The wolf started to come out.” He moves his hips away so he’s not pressing into me. 

I squeeze my thighs together, feeling a heat start to tingle. “You could have let it out, morning sex is never a bad thing,” I whined. 

Ryker squeezes me again. “Not yet,” he sighs. He then releases me and sits up. “I’ll go start breakfast.” He gives me a quick kiss. “Get a shower and enjoy your morning.”

I pout at him. “I would have enjoyed you.”

Ryker grins. “I’m not my best until I’ve had a good meal. You deserve me at my peak.” He kisses me again. “If you’re ready though, I’m ready.” He presses his forehead to mine. 

“After breakfast,” I say as I sit up. “I’ll give you your massage and for the first time and last time in my career I’ll consider a happy ending but it just can't be on the table itself. Because I have intergrety and I can’t have you thinking I’ll fuck any other man on my table.” I insist. 

“Of course not, besides you’re my mate and you’re already strongly scented, they’d be a fool to even try.” Ryker agreed as he grabs me and pulls me to him suggestively. 

I bite my lip as I stroke my hand down his hairy chest. “Then we’ll see what arises.”

“It’ll arise, trust me,” Ryker scoffs. He kisses me again before forcing himself to go into the kitchen.

I get a shower then set up the table so after we eat it’ll be an instant thing to get to. Once breakfast is over, Ryker gets his own shower. I then set up my supplies, laying a flannel sheet set and a light blanket over the table, lighting a candle, dimming the lights, and turning on some soothing music.

As I’m warming up my hands and the massage lotion on them, Ryker comes out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. “So uhm-” he says unsurely. “Do I just get up there...as is?”

“If you’d like,” I say with a smile. “No sense in getting dressed since it’s just me. Plus you’ll have this to keep you modest.” I say as fold down the light blanket and sheet as he comes over. 

“Just you,” he scoffs. He then drops the towel and hops up on the table before I lay it over his lower half so his back is exposed to me. As muscular and amazing as it is. 

My whole body has burst into flames. I only got a quick peek before he laid down, but I am pretty sure the werewolf isn’t the only monster in the room.

“What smells good?” Ryker asks.

“Candles,” I reply quickly. “It’s a lemon and basil scent.”

“Mm, I love that,” Ryker sighs. He then gasps as I take my hands to his back.

“Any problem spots?” I ask him as I rub the lotion into his skin and get a feel for what I’m working with. Fantastic strong muscle tone meets my hands. 

Ryker groans in his chest. “I uhm…” he lets out a warbled moan as I reach his lower back. “Shoulders and lower back,” his voice goes darker and I’m pretty sure he’s trying not to drool through the face rest. 

“Thought so.” I start to rub slowly. “So do you want a nice relaxing massage or do you want me to fix this?” I ask as I pick out the knots in his shoulders and between his shoulder blades. 

“Please fix it.” Ryker pleaded. 

“You got it, now obviously I’m heavy handed so if it gets to be too much, just tell me to ease up and I will.” I reassure him then start in, going for the deeper pressure and more focused work because I’m heavy handed and a problem solver and when I had told Ryker that I spoke muscle, he had no idea how fluent I was in it. 

Ryker lets out a whimpering cry as I coach him to breathe with me when I find the first knot then groans as I get the knot out and the muscle submits and relaxes before I continue on before it’s more moans and good groans instead of whimpers as he drops into the parasympathetic cycle. As I move down his back to his legs, I notice him squirming a bit.

“Everything ok?” I ask. “You’re moving quite a bit, I need you to keep still and relaxed.” I rub my hand down his thigh.

“Sorry it’s just uhm-” he pants. “A bit of discomfort.”

“Discomfort?” I gasp in shock. “Where? I told you to tell me if I’m rubbing too hard.”

Ryker chuckles. “Oh my god, don’t make me say it, Zara!”

I then realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” I let out a soft giggle. “Oh.” I kiss his shoulder as my hand moves between his legs. “Do you like it that much?” I purr. 

Ryker grunts as my fingers squeeze along his inner thigh and up towards his butt. “It’s you,” he moans. “Even if you had been poking me with a stick it would have happened.”

“Roll over then,” I moan into his ear. “Let me take care of you My Love.”

His whole body shivers but he does as I command. He lays on his back, pressing his forearm over his eyes and his cheeks are as red as mine. He bites down on his bottom lip, waiting for my reaction as I move the blanket down to see my prize. 

I glide my eyes down his chest, his belly. I then see his cock laying against his stomach. It’s thick, very thick, with nice veins running along it. It quivers for a moment, lifting off his belly for a second before laying back against it. He’s so much bigger than Michael could ever hope to be in his wildest dreams. Hopefully Ryker knows how to use this monster well. 

“Is this what they meant by big bad wolf?” I take his cock into my hand, squeezing at the base before I stroke up. I lean forward, kissing his chest and darting my tongue over his nipple. 

“Zara,” Ryker moans loudly as he fists his hand into the sheets. 

I kiss his neck, moving my hand faster on his shaft. Ryker’s mouth hangs open and he moves his arm away from his face. He sits up, capturing my face between his palms to kiss me. He bites my lip sighing into my mouth as I pump his cock. 

“Get on the bed,” he snarls into my ear. “Now.”

My nipples get hard instantly at his low, raspy growl. He stands off the table, pushing me down onto the mattress. He rips away my underwear and pushes up the shirt I’m wearing before I take it off. He kisses between my breasts, gently nipping my soft skin as he spread my thighs which eagerly part for him. 

“Ryker,” I mewl softly.

“It’s ok right?” He pants. 

“Of course,” I whisper. “I can’t wait any longer.”

A big smile breaks over his face. He dips down, kissing me as one of his hands finds purchase on my hip. He growls into my mouth as his fingers from his other hand slip around in my growing wetness. His mouth moves down me until his head is buried between my thighs. I already notice he’s starting to shift, changing ever so slowly. Sharp teeth drag on my thighs and I let out a loud whimper. His tongue presses inside me and I reach down to grab the top of his head, his glorious hair threading between my fingers. 

A low growl vibrates through me, making my eyes roll back. Ryker snarls and slurps, pressing his tongue inside then licking over me. Once his fingers join the mix, I’m done for. They rub circles around my clit, my back arches off the bed, and I let out a long, pleasured yell as my first orgasm floods me with euphoria. 

Ryker rises up, his sharp blue eyes gazing at me as he licks his chops. “My mate,” he whispers. He cups his hand around my cheek. “Are you ready?”

I whimper as I nod emphatically as his cock rubs against my slit. I reach down, opening myself up with my fingers. “Yes,” I breathe. “I need you.”

Ryker crouches down, guiding himself inside as he kisses me. I lose my breath as he stretches me. I wrap my arms tight around him, as do my legs, letting him rock me with the pulse of his hips. My toes curl and I lose my voice. I have not felt this good in...ever, he’s filling me to the max and it’s wonderful. Ryker’s dark growls in my ear, and his soft fur presses against my skin and some of his massive weight starts to push me into the bed but I love it, it’s making me feel safe and desired and dominated in the best way possible. He pulses in me, sending a warmth through my body that causes my legs to spasm and my vision to go blurry because my second orgasm is just that good. 

He continues to snarl, rutting harder. I feel the knot at the base of his cock rub against my folds, slowly finding purchase before locking into place inside me. I bury my face in his neck as my hands claw down his back and chest in my third orgasm. Ryker shivers, throwing his head back with a powerful howl as he releases inside me and I feel it in my bones and every fibre of my being. 

For a moment, I’m gone, I’ve left this world to enter the next. It isn’t until Ryker is kissing me I return. I gaze up into his gentle blue eyes as tears slide down my cheeks.

“You ok?” He gasps as he fears he’s hurt me.

I nod and whimper. “I’m just so happy,” I sniffle

“I love you, Zara,” he whispers into my ear. “I’ll do everything I can to make you happy and I’ll take care of you, I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I cry.

We make love again not long after that, then again, and again and again, I don’t get as much work as I want done that week, but I am still able to unpack Del’s room and my room and the bathrooms and of course the kitchen. Her grandparents bring her home and have a tour of the new house.

Del just about goes feral when she sees her new bed. She instantly climbs on top and hugs Ryker around his neck.

“Thank you! Thank you!” She squeals excitedly. “I love you Ryker!”

It’s enough to make me cry, but Ryker has to control himself from full on sobbing. “I love you too, Lady Delilah.” 

Ryker proposes and takes “The Daddy Oath” with Del and moves in a few months later, giving Del and I time to get used to our home. Not like he wasn’t there constantly anyways. In fact, it was Del who asked him to move in with us and that was the cue we were looking for. 

“You should stay forever,” she had said with a nod. “It only makes sense. After all, you and Mom will have a baby sooner than later.”

We both had a laugh, after all, as much as I wanted another child I thought it just wasn’t in the cards for me. But I should have trusted how perceptive Del was, because not long after Ryker moved in, I got the shock of my life.

The news came from my doctor, who I was having my first check up with who had run some blood work. “You should have told me your were pregnant Zara. It surprised me!” She chuckles.

“I’m what?” I ask. “That can’t be right.” Because I was there to get birthcontrol. And I hadn’t been off of it for...oh. Whoops. 

“Oh,” she looks me over. “So it’s a surprise for you too? Well then, lets go over this now.” We have a long talk and tweak my meds a little. Before it was thought I couldn’t have a baby again, but apparently, Hearthway Hollow has a way of working out miracles because the pregnancy was already stable and I was beyond happy about it. 

Ryker was so excited when I told him the news, he started crying and hugging me tight. Del was acting smug, pleased as punch she had predicted this happening.

Ryker asked Del for permission to marry me sooner than later, which Del agreed to under the strict rule he not die of a heart attack which Ryker reassured her by showing her his own blood work and his own heart scan that his heart was perfectly fine which was reassuring to Del and I. We had a quick marriage at the courthouse, figuring we would have something nicer once the baby was born.

After that Ryker went into nesting mode and all those dead deer and other animals I was supposed to have gotten during the courtship- I was getting them now and Ryker was torn between working extra hard at the restaurant and wanting to be with me constantly and cooking up feasts big enough to feed a dozen people when he wasn’t touching me if not carressing me and the growing bump too and put on quite a bit of sympathy weight.  

Late in April, our son came two weeks early. He came out with a full head of hair and the softest, smallest cries I have ever heard. Del could kill with her screams as a baby, but our little Gavin was so gentle. Despite being a little early, he was a record weight and very healthy which made me think they may have gotten my due date wrong. It took me a while to recover, just like with Del, but soon we were all home.

I woke up one morning to find Del curled up beside me while Gavin was asleep on Ryker’s chest with our dog Max sleeping at the foot of the bed while the cats slept on the bench of the master bedroom’s bay window. I felt so at peace, so happy, I almost thought for a moment I was dreaming.

“I’ll make breakfast in a second, I don’t wanna bother them.” Ryker grins at me. 

“I can stay here forever,” I whisper. “It’s ok.”

“I can’t,” Del grumbles. “Dad, I’m hungry.”

The smile that blooms on Rykers face is more than I can bear. I was warned, Hearthway Hollow has a way of trapping you, but it also can perform miracles.

#Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh #Hearthway Hollow #@momolady #Chef Ryker #Hearthway hollow chef ryker part 3

[incorrect-trollhunters-quotes]

Vendel: Wait a minute, kid. How old are you?

Jim: Fifteen, sir.

Vendel: [worriedly] Oh ... oh, good, he's fifteen...

#AND THEY'RE PLAYED BY THE SAME VOICE ACTOR #BOOM #okay I just made myself cry #source: star trek (2009) #dreamworks trollhunters #trollhunters #jim lake #james lake jr #vendel #netflix #dreamworks #guillermo del toro #incorrect trollhunters quotes #anton yelchin #*200