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signalwatch · 1 year

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We Watched Eurovision 2023 (from the US. Texas, no less.)

I will be accused of only watching Eurovision 2023 because this edition was co-hosted by actor/ singer/ performer Hannah Waddingham of Ted Lasso fame. First - how dare you. Second - she looked amazing.

We've all heard of Eurovision, but until recently, it didn't air here in the US that I'm aware of. In recent years we'd see twitter going bananas for it, but it was during daylight and work hours, and it was very unclear what was occurring over there. But folks of all ages and walks of life seemed into it, so I think that piqued the curiosity of some of us.

Right at the start of COVID, I remember watching the Eurovision movie starring Will Ferrell, and it gave me *some* clue as to what was happening and how it worked, but, honestly, raised more questions than it answered.

what needs no explanation is Hannah's gown on Night 2 of the semi-finals

Then, two years ago, Jamie left me alone at home in the middle of the day - and I cannot imagine where she went, because this was *prime* COVID-hiding time. But, left alone, I saw on twitter that Eurovision was happening, and that it was on Peacock. I planned to tune in for fifteen minutes to check it out, but wound up sitting totally locked in for probably 3.5 hours (the finals this year ran 4:15). Returned home, Jamie caught a bit of it, but didn't get the full deluge of sitting, trying to figure out what the hell we were looking at as act after act took the stage.

Some of you will know the winners from that year (2021), Italian rock outfit Måneskin. They're pretty solid!

Last year we had a multi-day family event and missed the whole thing.

But this year, nothing was going on. And, again, Waddingham was there, so I tuned in.

One of the challenges of Eurovision, much like soccer here, is that it airs on commercial-free TV. Asking American TV to carry something they can't break up with commercials every few minutes is unheard of. Or was until the advent of streaming platforms. And now I get soccer and Eurovision. And probably detective shows about like, British cookie-tasters solving polite murders in quaint small towns.

I've mentioned to a few (US) people that I was watching, and to a person, they've said, "So, what is that? Like... American Idol?"

That's not a dig on the people who put it that way, but it is very hard to explain the scope of Eurovision to Americans who have spent two decades bombarded by terrible singing and talent competitions that mostly rely on your knowing who the judges are and listening to bad covers of music you previously liked.

I would judge all gowns here a smashing success

Eurovision is the final round of about 37 participating countries from Europe and Australia. It's more like the World Cup of song competitions as each of these performers has already been selected by their country in local competition. Of course, local competion means one thing in England and another in San Marino (which has a population of 30,000+ people).

The finals see 26 countries, and - friends - I have no real idea how this works. Like, UK, France, Italy, Germany and Spain just show up for the finals but not the semi-finals?

The music is pop, but it's not necessarily what Americans think of when they think of pop. Not that, here at age 48 and with zero kids (I'm aware of) to my name, that I would know what current pop sounds like. But I am pretty sure, based on the fact I live a part of the country where Cumbia and Tejano are gigantic going concerns, "pop" is different for different people. So, across, 37 countries, you get some interesting stuff. That's to say, don't necessarily expect (checks Billboard) Miley Cyrus. But get an Albanian family-band dressed in disco versions of local folk-wear and turning an anthem into a banger.

It's also worth noting, the music swings between folks looking for radio stardom and folks putting it on the line as House or, really, Novelty acts. I may vote for someone because they're entertaining as hell on this show, but I may not put them on my everyday playlist. And that's fine. We aren't making any life or death decisions here.

what is a great decision was the wardrobe for the first part of the finale. Great jacket, Graham.

Eurovision is a *friendly* competition that happens when you live in a place with actual history and less monoculture, and the overall competition is deeply not-American. No one here gives a flying @#$% about the US and our pop scene. But what they are celebrating is that they all bring their best game, everyone gets a chance, and you basically get to party in the audience for 4 hours.

There are no judges influencing voting or destroying the souls of the contestants. There is some weighted voting before the popular vote is counted that's a bit like the Electoral College where countries send their 12 votes in. Oh, and, by the way - you can't vote for people from your own country. Just imagine. We'd burn the show down here in the US.

The performances have set pieces, light shows, screen shows, dancers. It's big and it's... a lot. And that's kind of the fun of the thing. Everything is cranked up to 11, and it's pop songs, so even if one song isn't your bag, it's only going to be 3 minutes and out. But the musicians/ artists really need their act together. So every song is a little bit of performance art as well as delivery of a single.

speaking of art: Hannah's final look from Eurovision 2023

Do they lip-synch? I assume so. There's a lot of dancing and rolling around and other things that make live singing seem unlikely. Nor do people have instruments in hand all the time, or are bands seen. And that's fine. Who cares? It's performing to a song as much as performing a song.

Whichever country wins then hosts the next year's competition, which, to be honest, does not seem like enough time to get all of this together. But I'll assume they know what they're doing.

However, this year's Eurovision was held in Liverpool, despite the fact the UK was runner-up in 2022. The winner of 2022 was Ukraine, and... Americans could do well to see how this was handled.

Yes, the UK provided three hosts (including Waddingham and Graham Norton), but they also very much included Ukraine in the proceedings, starting with a Ukrainian rock-star host, Julia Sanina (who was really good, and realized she could also cut loose like Waddingham by show's end). But there were also Ukrainian acts who played the voting interval and other segments, and repeated call outs to Ukraine.

If Russia wasn't feeling isolated before, seeing dozens of European countries in complete support of Ukraine (and never mentioning Russia directly) had to have felt like a massive PR problem that no psy-ops are going to erase. And, after the war in Ukraine has dragged on, it's a welcome reminder of the continued war and need to maintain and demonstrate support for Ukraine.

The show also both implicitly and explicitly made calls for inclusivity and equality. And, friends, that's something I hope we can all agree on.

I am unsure if I'll watch both semi-finals and finals next year. It'll depend on time available. As Sweden's Loreen won, Waddingham won't be involved next year (I assume). But that's not a deterrent from watching.

By the way, (a) it seems like non-Ted Lasso fans discovered Waddingham this week and are here for her, and (b) at least two guys who were announcing who their countries were voting for clumsily attempted to flirt with Waddingham. Shoot your shot, king.

The voting is dramatic and stressful, and much more interesting than the hammy results delivery on most American reality gameshows. The combo of scores to a total feels immediate and less... architected. And, I have no idea what the demographic is for the show, because Non-Threatening Boys did not do well, but hyper-real weirdos did fantastic.

My personal favorite acts were Croatia, Austria, Moldova, Lithuania, Finland, and, yes, winner Sweden, who I had to keep my mouth shut about because Jamie was not having a previous winner coming back to win again. Also, all things being equal, the Italian guy was good but not my favorite.

Finland

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Sweden

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#eurovision #eurovison 2023 #Hannah Waddingham

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Rock ‘n’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 1- Disco Down

Intro: It's range day. SWAT vs LAPD Special Crimes branch. You and your finance decide to have a bit of fun with the interdepartmental competition.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So yeah, I started another series. Bad WIYBUPT. But there aint enough Disco out there so I thought I’d rectify that situation. This is also another entry for @imanuglywombat ‘s “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “Juicy Ass”. See here for more information.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

It was early in the morning, the first warm rays of the LA sunshine had barely begun warming the pavement when the two of you had started your day. Paul was already pouring you both coffee to go as you met him in the kitchen, dressed in your Swat training tee, utility pants and standard issue uniform boots, hair French braided back. You smirked at the dapper young detective before you, slacks, dress shoes, button down and tie.

It'd been a gruelling last few weeks for you both. You were working a SWAT case with your unit and Paul was busy working an LAPD Vice officer's homicide. He would trudge in late at night, either from the precinct or more recently from a night out with Vice following some leads. You were always already asleep and he didn't want to wake you. He'd kiss you softly, shower, kiss you again and crawl into bed, hugging you close.

Now, you were both getting ready to head out, finally having slept in the same bed together for the first time in weeks. Given your nature, the two of you were playfully squabbling over the upcoming late afternoon's task, a joint fire arms training session between your unit, LAPD SWAT and Paul's unit. The joint time spent at the range always turned into pool of who'd win and, usually, was too close to call rounding off with each team going head to head in a final duel.

And things were getting competitive in the Diskant home.

"If I can make it," Paul grumbled, "we should sweeten the deal."

"You'll make it.” You popped a shoulder. “Paul Diskant doesn't miss a day at the range, nor friendly competition. So, name your terms?" You smirked mischievously over the rim of your mug, watching him adjust his tie.

"Winner gets a favor." Paul devilishly replied.

"What kind of favor?" You played along and the look on his face already made your insides squirm as he raised a brow and curled his lips further in his smirk. "Paul!"

"Y/N!" Paul mimicked, cutting the distance between you, big hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing along your shirt. "Baby, it's been days. This Vice case has me pulled away longer than I have been since I was a beat cop."

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, fingers grazing the point where the short hairs of his buzz-cut met his neck.

“Fine." You kissed him deeply, the taste of coffee on both your tongues but something that was just him too. "We'll call it a bonus." “Bonus...” he nodded. “I can run with that.”

“You couldn’t run a fucking bath, Disco.” "Oh Sweetheart, you're on." The challenge in his voice and mischief in his eyes lit a fire under you. You kissed him again and moved away, a swift smack from his hand to your ass made you yip but you kept walking.

****

The drive into the station was quiet, you reading over your training schedule for the day and Paul driving. The only sound that filled the vehicle was the sound of him humming along to the radio, thumb tapping along to the beat of the song on his steering wheel, before you heard him let out a loud sigh.

"I have some stuff to chase down this morning but if nothing pans out, I should be at the range with the rest of my unit."

"Well, then I'll hope it doesn't pan out, just so I can kick your ass with my Glock," you chuckled as he let out a groan.

"Baby, you know, watching you handle that Glock and riffle makes me horny as fuck right? Nothing like a woman that can shoot," Paul admitted. He took your left hand away from the file and pressed his lips to the top of it. He knew why you did it, but he still hated not seeing your diamond flashing on your finger all day.

"Oh yeah?" You turned your standard issued sunglass covered eyes to him, "is that why you wanted to marry me?"

Paul chortled, “one reason among the many."

He pulled into the carport and parked in his designated spot. You exited the vehicle and gathered your bag from the popped trunk.

"See you at the range, don't be late, or I'll have to listen to Rodriguez bitch as she drives me home." You gave him a teasing kiss and slung your bag over your shoulder, walking away.

"Hey, Y/N?" He called after you. You stopped and turned around to look at him, lifting your sunglasses to the top of your head. "Don’t waste too much energy today, huh? You’re gonna need all the strength you have tonight, Baby."

You chuckled to yourself, "Just show up, we'll talk energy later," you rolled your eyes and walked off, flipping him the bird over your shoulder.

The scorching sun boiled across the training facility tucked between the hills of the valley, away from the hustle of the city and just far enough out of reach for civilians. Abandoned buildings and, green fields and a simulated neighborhood made up the grand, multi-million dollar facility. You and your team had been at it all morning, moving through the buildings in full tactical gear and safety equipment. Together you cleared buildings, fired upon fake assailants and suspects. You and your partner, Alma Rodriguez, even hit the weights and boxing bags to keep loose after a hand to hand session against Everett and Evans. To keep your trigger fingers hot and ready, you played a round of long range sniper poker, you of course beating the team with a straight flush, bullets hitting their targets dead center.

It was the last hours of daylight by the time Special Branch showed up and you couldn't help but smirk as you watched Paul set up his gear from across the field. Long gone were his slacks and tie, and now, he was dressed in a tight black tee with the edges of his two bicep tattoos peeking out from the hem, and uniform issue pants and boots, his wrap arounds shielding those beautiful blues you loved getting lost in.

You smirked as the two of you locked glances, his smile forming across plump lips. A cocky flick of his head was sent in your direction and you laughed, pulling a hundred dollar bill from your pocket and slapping it flat against the table.

The competition started, pairing SWAT members against Specials, two by two until both your captains were the final two.

"Shooters on the line," the facility command officer called. Each shooter stepped up, readying their rifles. Your team lined up behind your boss, Paul and his desk buddies watching from their side. "Stand by... Ready..." The whistle sounded and the first shots at their prospective targets were fired.

Firing judges followed behind each shooter, judging accuracy, safety and protocol. Three rifle shots fired down range and the shooters tossed their weapons to the side, tucking and rolling one roll with their hand on their pistol all while watchful eyes looked on. Your boss didn't roll, but Paul's did and the snickering started from Special Branch. It didn't deter your focus as you watched your boss, Captain Rogers, finish the round. Three shots fired at metal targets, each one going down in accuracy, then a clip reload and three more shots fired at a close range target before the commanding judge asked both men to put their weapons on safe and holster them. He approached each target for accuracy and declared Paul's boss, Captain Wilson, the winner of the round. That brought the two teams to a tie.

The Detectives cheered and razzed SWAT but both captains settled their groups down. The field judge confirmed the tie in the competition and groans sounded from both teams.

"I'll tell you what, I'll toss in an extra two hundred bucks to pit Y/L/N against your pick," Rogers held two one hundred dollar bills up, handing them over to the field judge for safe keeping.

"Alright, I see your two and raise two," Captain Wilson held out his bills, "for Diskant to take that challenge."

"Oooooooh", both teams razzed the real life couple.

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face as one of Paul’s colleagues piped up that this could back fire spectacularly as would Paul really want to risk pissing off the woman who controlled his sex life.

“That’s exactly why he wants to win,” you jibed back, causing him to roll his eyes and scoff, “because his sex life is on the line if he doesn’t.”

More laughter rang out across the area as Paul merely shrugged, a smile flickering across his face as you heard Rogers speak loudly to Wilson from behind you.

“Between us, two hundred on my girl to blow your man outta the water."

Paul leaned down, to whisper into your ear, a smirk plying on his lips, "something's gonna get blown."

"What was that?" You coyly played.

“Sure you wanna do this?” He asked, turning to look at you, his brow arched. “I mean you could just forfeit now and save yourself the embarrassment.”

You held his gaze for a moment before you made a show of dragging your eyes down his body, your gaze lingering on his crotch as if you were contemplating his offer, before you raised your head, your tongue poking out from between your lips a little.

“Did you forget to zip up?" You asked. Paul gave a start, his head jerking down to look at his ‘piece’ so to speak, and at that moment the whistle was blown to start.

The first shots were fired, Paul's just seconds behind yours. Tucking behind the mailboxes for your next shot, you nailed your target and moved forward to fire your final rifle round, using a metal barrel as your cover. You laid your riffle to rest, took a few steps, tucked your chin and rolled, planting your feet and rising up to draw your personal firearm. Poised for your next quick shot behind a mock window frame, you fired at the target and moved on, Paul's form in your peripheral, matching you shot for shot. Coming around the frame you fired a walking shot at your next target and then took your place at the final marker, firing away before the expected reload and emptying your clip into the standing paper target with his hostage.

"Safety on... Holsters." The range judge called after he blew his whistle. You and Paul followed his commands and waited as he examined your individual targets. It was close, you knew it. Paul was an excellent shot.

You watched as the judge looked over Paul's target first, poking his finger through two holes in the face before moving on to yours. You nailed your target, all three shots hitting the suspect. One dead shot to the center of his head, the other in the chest and the last in the torso.

"Here's your winner," the judge declared, pointing at your target.

Cheers began to ring out and you heard Paul groan loudly, turning to you. "You cheated.”

"I guess the favor's on you," You quipped as behind him you saw Captain Rogers holding his hand out, ready to receive the cash prize from Wilson.

“You still cheated.”

“I did no such thing!” You scoffed.

“You distracted me.” He folded his arms across his chest, a sullen pout on his handsome face.

“Well, you should know better than to take your eye off the target, Disco,” you smirked and he narrowed his eyes playfully. “On second thought, I think I will let Rodriguez take me home. Burgers and beer on you. Don't forget the extra pickles."

He smirked, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, "come on, ride back with me, I'll make it worth your while."

"Erm, unless I'm mistaken you just lost so..." You popped a shoulder, your eyes not leaving his as you began walking backwards away from him. "I'm in charge."

“I want a divorce.” He shot back and you laughed, shaking your head.

“We’re not married yet, hot shot.” You winked.

“Details.” He waved his hand and you snorted, before you turned and jogged to catch up with your colleagues.

*****

As per your instructions, Paul didn’t forget the extra pickles and later that evening the pair of you were sat on the sofa in your comfy clothes, food and beer in hand as you lounged back watching a film on the Television. You stole a glance at your fiancé for a moment, his sharp profile illuminated in the soft light of the lamp to his right. He really was incredibly handsome, and you often wondered daily how the hell you’d gotten so lucky, as he could have had his pick of women, they tended to fall at his feet wherever you went. But he’d chosen you. Not only that, he’d pursued you. It had taken him a good few weeks after you’d both met on a case when he was in Uniform to finally accept his offer of a date. The dates had continued, and six months later you’d moved in together, and a year or so after that, he’d gotten down on one knee in the middle of your apartment and asked you to be his wife.

Which, reminded you of something you’d heard before.

With a smirk you turned your attention back to the film, took another bite of your burger before you spoke, your tone light and airy.

"So... strippers huh?"

Paul hastily swallowed his food and turned to look at you. "What?"

"Nothing, just typical."

"No, what?" He chuckled.

"I just heard one of the guys before commenting about how the wedding is getting closer so the stag do needs planning. The words Vegas and strippers were mentioned. Several times"

"Fucking Adler, man," he shook his head, dropping his empty burger container into the paper bag on the table in front of you.

“So you are going to Vegas, then?” You shoved another fry in your mouth to stop the smirk from spreading at the teasing.

"Uh, yeah," his reply was nonchalant, but he rubbed at his neck in that way he always did when he was a little nervous or uncomfortable. His big tell.

"Right. And there will be strippers?”

“Yes, there PROBABLY will be strippers." He side eyed you a little as he reached for his beer, the faint flush of red visible on the back of his neck as you took the final bite of your food.

“How probably?”

"There MAYBE be a night at the club." He leaned back, bottle in hand.

"Dicks." You gave a dramatic sigh, dropping your now empty food container into the bag with his. You made a show of scrunching down the top of the bag, dropping it to the floor by the side of the sofa, ready to be taken to the trash, before you leaned back, shaking your head.

"What?" he turned to you, beer paused halfway to his mouth.

"Oh, no, I was just saying, at my hen do there will be dicks. Lots of dicks."

“What the fuck?” He spluttered and you shrugged, not looking at him, feigning concentration on the television.

“I can't have strippers too? Tut, tut Disco, that's very old fashioned."

There was a pause, and you waited for his reaction, knowing it could go one of two ways. Out and out petulant protesting, or some sort of childish, half witty come back.

"You know, my dick is by far the most important." He chose the latter.

"You mean you are the most important dick?"

“Yeah.” He conceded. “Hey, least I’m important in some way.”

At that you laughed and moved a little closer to him. He shifted, allowing you to snuggle under his arm, pressing a kiss to your head.

“You know what else is important?” You asked, your hand gently tracing shapes on his white tee.

“What?”

“That you don’t forget that you owe me a favor, Detective Diskant." “That I do.” He agreed, and you felt him nod.

“So, there’s a pile of ironing that needs doing and the bed sheets need changing tomorrow. Can you manage?”

At that he let out a loud guffaw, his chest rumbling against your cheek. "Seriously, Baby?" He glanced down at you as you tipped your head up to look at him. "Absolutely," you winked

“I am at your complete mercy to satisfy you in any way you want... and you ask me to do chores?” He rolled his eyes. “You’re losing your sense of adventure, Sweetheart.” "Oh I have a sense of adventure, but a bet is a bet and we've pulled three doubles between the two of us so shits gotta get done, and you lost, therefore, you... are... my... bitch.” Your words were punctuated by soft jabs to his chest with your index finger and Paul groaned, throwing his head back against the sofa as he scrunched his eyes closed.

“Fuck my life.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You looked at him and he opened his eyes. “Fuck my wife?”

“We’re not married yet.” He smirked, arching an eyebrow at you as he played back your words from earlier.

“Details,” you played along and he laughed as you shifted a little more so your face was level with his. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

With a cheeky grin he leaned over, pressing his lips to yours, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as the kiss grew deeper, his tongue slowly sliding against yours. You let out a soft moan, shifting a little, your hand cupping his face and then he pulled back. You pouted at the loss of contact and opened your eyes to shoot him a glare, to find him smirking a little.

"Double or nothing, I bet I can make you cum in less than two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” You arched a brow, biting your lip a little as you squirmed at the frankly filthy look in his eyes. “Now?”

“Yup.”

“Bring it on.” You threw down the gauntlet. “But that doesn’t include the time it takes me to get you naked.” He grinned, shifting a little so he was side on, facing you.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “Or the foreplay.”

“Jesus Christ, Paul, just get on with it. You said two minutes. Clock starts the second you start, your challenge not mine. He grabbed your beer bottle and placed it along with his on the table with a bang. “You saying you don’t want me to love on you a little bit before I bang you into next week?” His voice was low as he hovered over you a little, his face inches from yours. "I'm saying I'm fucking desperate, that's what I'm saying."

"Then I won't need two minutes.” He grinned, pressing further into you, causing you to lay back on the sofa.

“God, you’re so full of it.” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re gonna be full of it soon.” He smirked, his lips pressing to yours. "Stop... Talking... And... Do... It," you demanded between his dizzying, little pecks. His lips curled into a smile against yours as his hands gently trailed up the outside of your smooth thighs, thumbs grazing under the hem of your cut offs. The assault from his lips already soaking you.

It wouldn't take much, you both were fully aware of it. Nearly a week apart or just missing each other had you two desperately seeking release. The question was, who would cave first. He said two minutes and you knew he could hold off until you were good and worked over. His fingers slipped between your denim shorts and he gave a low groan as he felt your damp panties. His kiss grew hungrier and he was quickly on your flies, your shorts were down your leg in a matter of seconds, tossed over the back of the sofa, panties with them.

He moved to a kneel, one hand gently hooking your right leg up to rest against the back of the couch, knocking the other to the side, your foot falling automatically to the floor, toes pressing onto the soft carpet, leg bent at the knee. You don't even register how fast he moved downwards, and part of you wondered if he lost on purpose. A flat long swipe tasted at your folds.

"Jesus," it felt glorious and your back arched off the sofa in delight. There was a wee bit of scruff causing a tease of friction against your inner thighs and although you weren't timing him, you knew it couldn't have been more than sixty seconds when his tongue dipped into your hole causing you to cry out.

"Fuck, Paul..."

He gave a little chuckle, mouth vibrating against your nub which he grazed with his teeth. You bit your lip as your insides began to tremble, you were so desperately trying to hold off just to get that last win over him, but it was useless. That rumble had you in the throes of it and you were gone, your legs shaking as you came, your walls clamping around nothing as you gasped, your body shuddering with pleasure.

The smirk and glisten that was evident on his lips as he sat up and caged you in, had you clawing at his shorts. "I win."

"Yeah, okay, you smug little shit,” your voice was breathy as you recovered from your high, your hands pulling at the drawstring in the middle of his abs. “Dare I ask how you want me?”

His baby blues, already dark with desire, flashed and he pressed his lips to yours, his mouth dominating and you could taste yourself on him. You groaned as his hands slid up, cupping your face and he pulled back.

“Hands on the floor, feet on the coffee table, knees bent.”

You blinked, “what?”

“Hands on the floor, feet on the coffee table, knees bent.” He repeated.

Okay, so this was new…

With a final, suspicious look at him as he moved back, you stood, jumping and emitting a little squeak as he slapped your ass as you went. Taking a deep breath you turned, placed your hands on the floor and rested the tops of your feet on the coffee table, your knees bent.

“So you can do as you’re told.” Paul smirked, standing up off the sofa.

“When I want to.” You peeked up at him as best you could to see him sliding his shorts down his legs, stepping out of them before he moved round and threw his leg over your shins. His hands slid up the outside of your thighs, coming to rest on your waist as he pulled you back a little, his erection pressing into your behind as he ground against you, giving a little hiss.

“Fuck, baby you look so good from back here.” He moaned, bending over slightly to press a kiss to your spin and you shivered, your arms wobbling a little and you began to worry just how much of this you could take.

“Paul, seriously, just…”

“Patience.” He cut you off as he gave your ass a soft slap making you emit a noise that was half way between a squeal and a laugh as he positioned himself behind you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his chest where it had been pressed to your back moments ago.

You felt the tip of his dick as it poked at your entrance, and he had no problem slipping inside your already soaked folds. But the angle and the pressure of your body closed off as he slipped inside you set your nerves on fire. You both moaned out together as he slid home, his balls to your clit.

You felt how thick he was against your walls. A little twitch and flutter from his shaft as you both remained still, you silently begging and waiting for him to move. His fingertips gently dug into your hips as he slowly pulled back and moved forward again.

"Fuck, baby, so fucking tight, like this," Paul ground out as he pumped slowly in and out of you. He was taking his time, slow thrusts and long pulls back. In truth, it was agony, but a beautiful torture. And a torture that he continued again, and again, and again. Over and over, in no rush whatsoever, a sharp contrast to where he’d brought you off before on the couch as fast as he could.

Your arms were shaking from baring the position but you wanted more. And as the bubbles of pleasure slowly simmered through your core and deep into your belly, you moaned out your demand. "Harder."

"Oh, fuck," Paul quivered inside you but picked up his pace, his hips slamming into yours, your insides squeezing him tightly as his hands gripped at your hips, blunt nails biting against your skin. With every thrust forward you were jolted, your palms sliding on the rough surface of the rug underneath you, and you curled your fingertips into the deep, cream coloured shag in an attempt to prevent yourself from face planting straight onto the floor.

"Yeah, just like that," you panted, your elbows locking as you pushed yourself up slightly, "oh fuck, Paul!" You could tell by his breathing and how he felt inside you that he was ready to cum but he could always hold off until you had yours. "So close," you managed to pant out, letting him know you weren’t far.

He slowed his pace, bending his body down your spine again, and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, "just," he thrusted, "let", again, "go".

His words flipped the switch inside your body and you felt yourself going, the blood already rushing to your head from the position you were in, and the pressure was pounding in your ears as you came, hard. "Oh my God!" You cried out as your walls clamped down around him, milking his hot seed to explode inside you.

"That’s my girl, fuck!" He roared at the feel of you around him, and his hips grew sloppy as he came, grunting, pulling you back onto him as he let go of his thick payload.

With your chests heaving, bodies stilled, his fingers still around your hips, his thumbs drew lazy circles on your back. You felt his blue gaze on you and you couldn't see it, but you knew he was smirking.

“Paul.” You managed to swallow, “baby, my arms.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He moved gently to pull out of you, curling his arm around your waist in the nick of time as your elbows gave way and the pair of you tumbled rather ungracefully to the rug by the table in a tangle of limbs, your giggles ringing around the room, drowning out the sound of the television.

“You okay?” He asked gently, as you moved so you were lay on your back looking up at him as he lay on his side, propped on his left elbow. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear with his right hand as you nodded, leaning up to kiss him deeply.

“I’m not even gonna ask where you saw or read about that.” You chuckled and he grinned, glancing around the room cheekily before he looked down at you.

“Boys talk, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “But admit it, that was better than making me fold sheets.”

You chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours again, your fingers gently twisting his silver chain between them as you looked at him and arched your eyebrow. “If I admit it will you do it again? Only not tonight, don’t think my arms could take another round.”

Paul let out a laugh which rumbled in his chest and he pressed his lips to yours again. “Maybe we can make a game out of it, see how many other surfaces I can use to I prop your feet on and fuck you from behind.”

You scoffed, slapping at his arm as he grinned down at you cheekily, and you bit your lip.

“I can run with that.” Your hands moved so they slipped round his back, gently tracing shapes over the muscles, making them twitch a little and he sighed as your nails reached that spot on his neck that always turned him to putty in your hands.

“Stop, you know what that does to me.” He looked down at you.

“I do.” You agreed, continuing nonetheless.

“Seriously, you want more?”

“Well, like you said.” Your fingers curled round the nape of his neck, pulling his face down so it was inches from yours. “It’s been a while since we got time together, best make the most of it.”

“Oooh, you’re a bad, bad woman future Mrs Disco…” he smirked, kissing you deeply. “And I’m so down for that.”

****

It was late in the evening, the two of you having carried your sex-capades from the lounge to the bedroom, both of you spent and spooning in the aftermath of bliss when Paul's cell rang out.

He grumbled and shifted slightly, turning to grab the offending item form the night stand before he answered, "Diskant."

You strained your ears to listen to who was on the other end but it wasn't audible.

"Yeah, okay, got it. I'll call you back," he replied and hung up. Then he quickly made an outgoing call. "Hey, so I just talked to Scribble. Freemont and Coates, or whoever they are, want to meet us." There was a brief pause, "tonight." Another pause and he closed his phone.

He sighed, turning to you, "I got to go."

"Okay," you sat up, an uneasiness filling your veins.

"I'll be back," he slipped out of bed, dressing quickly in black jeans, a black button down and hat. He clipped his badge from the nightstand to his belt after slipping into his uniform boots. Then leaned over and gave you a long, deep kiss. "I love you."

"I love you. Come home to me," you kissed him and pulled back, your fingers pressing the medallion of safe keeping against his chest. Paul touched his forehead to yours before he pressed his lips to your own in a soft kiss and headed out. You heard the door click as he left your apartment, and you gave a sigh, settling down into the bed, pulling his pillow to your naked chest as you closed your eyes. Whilst you knew that this was the job, hell, you’d done it yourself for long enough, it still never made it easier and for some inexplicable reason, tonight it made you even more twitchy than normal. But, that was more than likely down to the fact you’d managed to enjoy some quality time together tonight, and it had been so good.

Before long you drifted off to sleep, and you had no idea what time it was when the cordless rang, shrilling through the apartment, raising you from your slumber, but as you blinked yourself awake, it was still pitch black outside.

"Hello," you croaked.

"Y/N," you recognized the voice immediately, given your own happenings with IA.

"Captain Biggs," you replied, suddenly fully awake as you sat up in bed, the covers clutched to your chest.

"It's Paul,” his voice was low and serious and instantly you felt a cold, icy dread floor your system from your head to your toes as he passed, taking a breath, “a unit is on its way for you."

***** Part 2

#rock n roll people in a disco world #paul diskant #uglywombatsexpositionchallenge #paul diskant x reader #paul diskant x you #street kings #street kings fan fic #reader insert #chris evans #chris evans characters

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minghellafine · 3 years

Link

Full interview below.

The first thing Max Minghella does when he joins our Zoom call is ask me about the weather. It wasn't just a conversational cliché though, he really wanted to know what it was like where I was. I tell him I'm in New York City, where spring can surprise you with a day that's colder or warmer than it looks. This particular day was chilly. "I'm always cold," he interjects, "I'm reptilian. My body finds a way to keep me cool." He shivered as he spoke, sitting in his sunny backyard in Los Angeles wearing a T-shirt. I checked the temperature right after our call. It was 80 degrees in L.A.

Despite any discomfort, Minghella is just really happy to be at home. Unlike the millions of people who spent 2020 in quarantine, he was working on season four of The Handmaid's Tale throughout the spring and summer."I'm sort of jealous of people who have this moment to pause and reflect," he says soberly. "Even with all of the trauma it's caused and all the things that obviously were detrimental, I know a lot of people who've had big life changes in the past year."

He acknowledged, however, that creating something in a time when everyone wished they could escape was ultimately a lucky thing. "There was a ubiquitous sense of gratitude," he adds.

Outside of the global pandemic, the dynamics on set had shifted — this season, his co-star Elisabeth Moss (or "Lizzie" as he affectionately calls her), was a director. "She was amazing on set," he explained. "Just very in control and it ran super smoothly. When I saw the episodes she directed, it just kind of blew me away. Her style — it's very cinematic and it really underlines the sci-fi elements of the show. It has a real kind of scope and confidence to it. I think she's a real filmmaker."

RELATED: Marvel's New Face Danny Ramirez Has the Range

Minghella's character Nick has an interesting arc this season too – he's realizing his role as a senior member of the Gilead ruling class, but also still in love with June [Moss]. It's a complex character that challenges you as an audience member. He is the brooding love interest, and while you may root for him and June to be together, you also have to see him for what he is: an architect of a world that kidnaps women and uses them for childbearing.

What made the previous three seasons of the show even harder for viewers to digest was the fact that people so badly wanted to believe there could be a good guy defector — maybe even Nick — in a room full of bad guys. During those years, many people felt that the dystopian elements of the show were reflective of the nationalist agenda being put forth in the United States by the Trump Administration. So much so that a group of protesters famously wore Handmaid costumes to protest anti-abortion bills and Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh's confirmation hearings. Without saying much about the parallels in the show — other than chalking them up to "pure coincidence," Minghella felt the Handmaid's Tale, whose protagonists are anti-Gilead, are "on the right side of history." He added diplomatically, "Ultimately, I'm most proud because I think it's really great fiction."

I get the sense that the pursuit of "great fiction" is something that consumes Minghella. He's someone who appreciates art (he got his big break in 2006's Art School Confidential), and his parents are Anthony Minghella, the late award-winning director of The Talented Mr. Ripley, and actress Carolyn Choa. He loves details (see our earlier weather conversation). Even the way he talks about Los Angeles has a story-like quality. He tells me about how he knew when the city became his home after a feeling he got driving past the Silver Lake 7-Eleven. As he told it, I pictured it like a scene in an indie movie starring Zach Braff.

"I had this sort of pathological obsession with movies from birth. [My mother] worked for the British equivalent of the Motion Picture Association, so she would watch three films a day. By three or four years old, I was just kind of an obsessed movie person." It's his favorite movie, Beverly Hills Cop ("I think I saw 100 times by the time I was eight years old," he says) that inspired another big role he was working on during quarantine: Minghella stars as a detective opposite Chris Rock in the Saw franchise spin-off Spiral: From the Book of Saw.

"The movie was so serendipitous for me. I feel like I almost manifested it in my life," Minghella muses. "There's a line very early in the movie where we're investigating these crime scenes and we come to a grizzly one. My character looks nauseous. Chris's [character] says to me, 'Are you okay?' And my character says, 'Yeah. I mean I'd been dreaming about this since I was 12-years-old.' And that was a very kind of weird line because it's just true."

Now at 35 years old, Minghella is feeling settled. He is still a "film nerd" that gets giddy with each new opportunity, but he's less anxious about the results. Next thing on his list? Vacation.

"I'm hoping in May once the movie comes out I can run away somewhere."

Read on for his cheesy would-be campaign slogan, his fast-food weakness, and the time he escaped a tornado while working on a film with Blake Lively.

Who is your celebrity crush?

Mary Tyler Moore.

What's the last thing you do before you fall asleep?

I listen to 1950s radio shows. Usually Dragnet. I was researching a project in that period briefly and got sort of into the radio culture of that time. And now I find it incredibly soothing.

Favorite villain?

Hans Gruber.

Describe a memorable dream.

I had a recurring nightmare as a child in which my grandmother turned into a cat. So Tom Hooper's Cats was very traumatizing to me.

First album you ever owned?

My mother bought me the Top Gun soundtrack on audio cassette.

If you were required to spend $1,000 today, what would you buy and why?

I would do anything to help a distressed dog.

If you ran for office, what would your slogan be?

Some kind of tacky pun using my first name. "Take it to the Max," or maybe "Max on, Max off."

Name one place you've never been but have always wanted to go.

Easy. Japan. I went when I was one, but I don't think that counts.

What's the most uncomfortable outfit you've ever worn?

I did a film called Art School Confidential and I had to wear a beret and I found every moment of it truly humiliating. I remember being completely traumatized by it.

Describe your first kiss.

My first kiss was at a bus stop. I was 14 and I lied and told the girl that it wasn't my first kiss, but I think it was probably immediately evident that it was.

What's one dish you're always tempted to order if you see it on a menu?

There are so many things. That's the sad answer. French fries is the truth.

Favorite on-set memory?

I did a movie called Elvis and Anabelle with Blake Lively like 100 years ago and we shot in Texas. There was a tornado one night that forced us to evacuate the set and we had to sort of drive off in a hurry. I put on this song by The Knife called "Pass This On" in the car which is very dramatic and cinematic. The tornado was sort of in pursuit of the vehicle while we were speeding away. And it was just far enough that it wasn't life-threatening, but also a radical visual. That's one of my favorite life memories.

The Handmaid's Tale season 4 premieres on Hulu April 28, and Spiral: From the Book of Saw hits theaters on May 11.

Photographs by Emily Malan. Grooming by Sonia Lee for Exclusive Artists using La Mer. Polaroid Photos by Max Minghella. Special thanks to Polaroid. Production by Kelly Chiello.

#max minghella #the handmaid's tale #saw #spiral #elvis and anabelle #the social network #interviews #*

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jadekitty777 · 3 years

Text

The Thoughts We Carry

As promised, I had one entry near completion that I hoped be ready to post for @fairgameweek2021. I spent the last few days this week not getting enough sleep just to make the deadline (ssh I know it’s after midnight. Summaries are hard, okay?). I’m sorry I won’t have anything else ready in time, but I hope you all enjoy this one!

Day 4: Separation/Reunion

Dedicated to: @chiherah

Rating: K

Words: 6K

Summary: “I know everybody to some extent,” Qrow once told his nieces, and he hadn’t precisely been lying. At least, when it came to knowing other huntsmen in the four kingdoms, that is. Clover Ebi was just one of probably five-thousand examples. Yet, just as all shamrocks are clovers but not all clovers are shamrocks, all huntsmen are acquaintances but not all get to be friends.

That was why, upon arriving to Atlas, Qrow could tell there was more weighing on Clover’s mind than the Grimm addled streets of Mantle or Solitas’ fighter jet filled skies. More crushing, even, than the now-known threat of Salem on the horizon. A burden so great, it altered old routines and shadowed bright smiles.

And, as Qrow regarded the Aceops’ hasty roster change, he knew the solution to his friend’s plight was not one he’d need to seek, but one he’d need to bear.

Ao3 Link: The Thoughts We Carry

There were a few unanimous truths that came with being a huntsman:

The work was dangerous to the point most knew their future was beelining for a parking space in a graveyard.

Never falter in the heat of battle.

Keep bandages on hand because stemming an injury can extend a life from a few seconds to a few minutes.

Always know the best foods to forage in case civilization is too far or – worse yet – wiped out.

Pack light as work will require travel. It will require travel a lot.

Of all of them, the one Qrow was most familiar with was that last one. So much so, the towns he visited were just as much old friends to him as the people within them were. Vale and Patch were like playmates from primary school that were never forgotten no matter how much time had passed. Higanbaga was that party dude from university that always knew how to show him a good time. Atlas was that annoying classmate that he got stuck with one year on a group project and he was forced to put up with. And Mantle…

Mantle was that one struggling friend he knew could be doing better, if anyone would give it a break.

He felt that feeling in every swing of Harbinger, slicing through Grimm as he sidestepped potholes in the concrete and litter whirled up around his feet. Witnessed it when he peered through the city’s ever-present shadow to keep the kids in his line of sight, straining his ears to listen for the rest that shouts just blocks away nearly drowned out until they mysteriously stopped.

Despite knowing what it likely meant, he didn’t focus on it. He sheared through another Sabyr, and spun on his heels. Took in visual information in half a second: Weiss partially down an alleyway with Ren. Yang at his six. Blake a bit behind her. A Grimm leaping right for her.

His hand moved before his mind did, aiming Harbinger’s shotgun as Blake did the same with Gambol Shroud.

Another shot got it first.

A buzzing blast of green energy, not quite aura or dust, cleaved the beast in two. Similar shots rained from the sky, making quick work of the rest until the street was clear. The lampposts’ harsh red glows faded back to their calming yellow. From above, a drone expelling more green light rocketed up to the sky. As it hovered in the light of the moon and slowly floated down to ground level, its shape became more apparent and he could make out the features of a young girl with long, curling locks of ginger hair. Something about her was familiar.

It wasn’t until he heard Ruby’s choked gasp of “Penny?” that it clicked.

About a thousand questions rolled into his mind at once, but it was clear from the way his niece was suddenly bowled over by the enthusiastic android and the tears began to flow, that they’d have to wait.

After all, it wasn’t every day a cherished friend returned from the dead.

The other kids crowded around quickly, but Qrow couldn’t help but look to the one who lingered awkwardly on the sidelines, Oscar fidgeting with his cane the way Oz used to.

Something welled inside him that tasted a little like regret.

Not every day indeed.

It seemed ages before they started to make their way back to Pietro’s shop. Penny was deep in explanation on her miraculous revival, explaining how her memory chips had been recovered and her body repaired. In the back, Qrow let most of it float over his head. He wasn’t the only one.

“This is so… unexpected.”

He side-eyed Jaune, the blond’s face a mix of emotions that were hard to pin down. He couldn’t even begin to guess at what the other was trying to process. The joy of Penny’s return? The bitter unfairness it couldn’t happen for another that had been lost that day? The sorrow that Pyrrha now would never know that she hadn’t killed the android and could never make amends?

Whatever it was, it was definitely too much to handle on a regular day. Add two grueling battles, multiple aura breaks, and a long flight to Atlas on top of it all, it left little energy to deal with much else.

“But not unwelcome.” Qrow replied, catching his attention. “You don’t have to question the good things you get in life kid. You do that and you won’t stop to enjoy them.”

It was relieving it pulled out a small, but genuine, smile on the young man’s face. “That’s unusual advice coming from you.”

That’s because it wasn’t his.

Before he could think to respond, his sharp senses caught Ren tensing up. A sign he was detecting something.

His fingers were already halfway to his weapon when he heard it.

“Ah, and here I thought we had a problem. But it’s just Qrow again.”

His hand fell, a groan emitting from deep in his chest as he turned towards that painfully familiar voice. Sure enough, Clover and his poster squad of soldiers were heading their way. “Oh great, it’s you.”

“Salutations Captain Ebi!” Penny greeted with a salute.

"You know them Uncle Qrow?" Ruby asked. He could feel her curious stare burning through his cape.

"Yeah. They're Jimmy's attack dogs.” He scoffed at them. “Though considering we cleaned up this mess, they're more bark than bite."

Clover laughed, stopping just a few feet away. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?" He thumbed back the way they had come from. “Guessing you’re also the flyer of the unidentified Manta a mile west here, huh?”

“Uh, well,” He spluttered a bit, not sure how to explain that.

He didn’t have to, as the second-in-command spoke up for him, “I can’t believe you!” Harriet spat, quick in her temper as she was on her feet. “We almost deployed hostiles on that ship. You could have at least radioed in!”

“Well, see we woulda. ‘Cept our radio was on the fritz.” Yang stepped up beside him.

His other niece flanked his other side. “We didn’t mean to cause a stir, really.”

Qrow didn’t know whether to be proud of their synchronization, refined from years of getting out of groundings together, or concerned for their physical wellbeing as Elm’s eyes lit up with recognition.

“Oh Qrow, don’t tell me these are your cute little nieces!” She was in his youngest niece’s space almost instantly, shaking her hand with such enthusiasm Ruby looked a little dizzy. “I’m Elm. Qrow’s told us so much!”

“He has?”

“Oh yes, once he gets going, he can never shut up about you two. It’s endearing.”

He did his best to ignore the teasing nudges Yang gave him or the flush working its way up his neck.

“Wait, hold up a second.” Another of the soldiers interjected. “You’re the Qrow Branwen? You don’t look anything like what I thought you would.”

As his eyes met with the other’s, Qrow realized with a start he didn’t know him. “And you are?” He spat a bit harder than he meant to.

He felt a little bad when it made the Faunus shrink back a bit, his wagging tail slowing. “I, erm-”

“Oh right, you haven’t met. This is our newest recruit, Marrow Amin. He’s a bit fresh, but has been an outstanding addition.” Clover spoke up, clapping a hand on his shoulder like a proud father. It was the slight twitch at the side of his mouth that gave away he was trying very hard not to drop his smile.

The kid definitely didn’t notice, his tail wagging at full speed once again.

Qrow decided to shelve it for now.

Thankfully, the quietest member was quick to draw all the attention his way as Vine cleared his throat and spoke over them, “As pleasing as this reunion is, I believe taking this discussion away from the middle of the street would be more comfortable.”

“Right.” Clover nodded, straightening up. “The General is expecting our report and, though unanticipated, I’m certain he’d be happy to accommodate your arrival.” He tipped his head towards Weiss. “We’ll contact your sister on the way in as well. Lieutenant Schnee will be relieved to know you made it back safely.”

Despite the propaganda recordings still running on loop overhead, Weiss couldn’t hide her happiness. “That would be wonderful.”

“Sooo, when you say accommodate, you mean beds? And food?” Nora piped up hopefully.

Elm grinned. “Mess hall is always open. All you can eat!”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Oh, I like you.”

In the corner of his eye, Qrow could see Ruby shifting uncertainly. He rested a hand on her back reassuringly. This wasn’t what they’d hoped for. They had wanted to gather more information before they approached James. But it’d be suspicious not to take it and the last thing they needed was for things to go south when they were so close to the finish line.

They would just have to hope they hadn’t lost James’ loyalty like they had Leo’s.

“We could certainly use it.” He finally said. “Lead the way boy scout.”

Though sleep came fast that night, Qrow didn’t rest easy. Despite the exhaustion weighing him down, his mind refused to quiet, whirling over and over again on an anxious loop. James’ flawed plans for Amity if they didn’t tell him the truth. Oz’s deceits. The relic still resting out in the open. Salem’s unknown course of action.

Normally, when his brain was this busy, he’d drown it in alcohol. Let everyone else figure it out as long as he could get some rest from it all. But that wasn’t an option anymore. He wouldn’t allow it to be.

That was how he found himself dragging himself out of bed at the crack of dawn and wandering down the already bustling halls. Anywhere else, he’d say it would be weird to be walking past so many people so early; but Atlas had the majority of its’ facility and students on a strict military schedule. Something about how it taught basic discipline and the sleep regimen was good for promoting better health and performance.

It was a crime against sleeping in is what it was.

Despite the fact his last visit had been well over a year ago, Qrow had no trouble navigating the uniform halls, finding his way to the Ace-Ops’ quarters in record time. He knocked twice, only having to wait a few seconds before the door was flung open. The cartoon flamingos on Harriet’s pajamas seemed to mock the rest of the academy already starting the day.

It’s tactical, Clover had told him once when he’d questioned the special treatment.

Privileged, Qrow had corrected snidely, ignoring the multitude of night crews given the same benefits.

Sometimes it was just fun to see if he could get a rise out of Mr. Perfect.

Speaking of, a quick sweep over Harriet’s hairline told him he was nowhere in the room. He did spot the others though, seated around the dining table. Elm had her hair wrapped up in a towel and a piece of toast in hand. Vine was sipping on tea and scrolling through news. Marrow was giving him that same starstruck look from yesterday, a spoonful of cereal only halfway on its journey to his mouth.

“Boy scout ain’t here?” Qrow asked.

Harriet quirked an eyebrow. “He’s in the garden.”

On a Tuesday? That was new.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Guess I’ll be on my way then. See ya.” He gave her a nod of farewell, heading down the hall.

“Hey, Branwen!” He paused, seeing Harriet leaning out the doorframe, her stare almost challenging. “If you start antagonizing him, I’ll kick your ass.”

That was… also new.

He smirked. “Like to see you try speedy.”

She only scoffed. From within, he heard Marrow pipe up, “Hare! You can’t say that to-” The rest of it was cut off by the door closing, but he had a feeling it ended with ‘The Qrow Branwen.’

He started down the hall again, the foreboding that had been weighing on him since last night quickening his pace.

It didn’t take him long to get to the garden. Natural to Atas’ standards, the room was as grand as could be. Twice as large as the training facility, the greenery filled every inch of space, broken only by specifically designed pathways students or staff could traverse. Some ran to small manmade ponds with wooden bridges built over them where koi fish would swim underneath while others led to displays of delicately trimmed hedges shaped to look like animals. As there was no plant life in Solitas’ ecosystem, everything in the room had been imported. Desert roses from Vacuo, sage bushes from Vale, black pines from Anima. There were even some sunflowers he’d brought years ago from Tai’s little patch at home, still valiantly clinging to life among the rosemary bushes.

Practically on autopilot, Qrow went down the right-most path which wound along to the far side of the garden, where the trees grew taller and the branches hung down like arms reaching out for a hand, close enough for him to reach up and touch. There was one in particular, a lone willow, which had become a popular hiding spot due to its’ thick, curtain-like tresses. So much so, that it had become better known as the Kissing Tree. Though it was too early for anyone to be there now, more than once, he and Clover had stumbled upon a pair of students trying to sneak in a private moment between classes.

To say nothing of the numerous times when the tree was empty and Clover would always wink at him and say, “Looks like there’s room for two.”

The first time, Qrow had been too shocked to respond. Every time after, he’d wave him off and say, “As if you could handle me.”

Clover would laugh and they would continue on, sometimes to the exit.

But more often than not, it was on their way in to the pen.

Compared to the rest of the room, the five-foot, stock panel metal fencing was a bit of an eyesore. Doubly so with the glowing blue devices placed on every post that would activate if anyone without clearance attempted to enter. Hence why it was kept in the back.

But for Clover, it was the best place in the entire garden. Qrow could already see him to one side of the cage, sitting on a bale of hay, gently grooming a lop-eared rabbit resting in his lap while another dozen of various breeds hopped about his feet. The soldier was humming a peppy tune, so lost in his own world he didn’t notice Qrow at the gate.

“Annabelle’s eating your laces.” He announced as he tapped his scroll on the gate’s scanner.

Clover jerked a bit, but not enough to disturb Dumpling, who only thumped his back leg for his attention to continue. He rested one hand on the lop’s back, shooing Annabelle away with the other, “Lil’ menace.” Before acknowledging Qrow with a nod and a “Good morning.”

“Was looking for you.” He replied, shutting the door behind him.

The second he had, Jynx honed in on him like a missile, torpedoing across the pen in seconds to race excited circles around his feet. Clover watched the antics with a teasing smile. “Somehow, I only half believe that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Qrow carefully stepped around the dwarf rabbit and as he made his way over, plucked a daffodil from the treat container kept on a high-mounted shelf. He sat beside Clover on another hay bale, Jynx wasting no time as she leapt onto his legs and flopped onto her side. So content she was, she didn’t even bother to lift her head when he offered the flower, just munched it down when it got close enough to her mouth. He rolled his eyes, running a hand through her soft, black fur. “Still lazy as ever.”

“She can’t help it if she takes after her handler.” Clover pointed out as he returned to his brushing.

“Making fun of yourself over there, boy scout? ‘Cause I ain’t the parent here. I’m the uncle who spoils her rotten.”

Normally, they’d go at it for a while like this, trading verbal blows that were about as harmful as throwing a handful of feathers at one another would be.

Today, it was clear his friend wasn’t in the mood when he only hummed and said, “I suppose.”

In the quiet that followed, it gave him a chance to really look the other man over. Though he was prim and proper as ever, with clothes neatly pressed and boots shined enough to reflect the light, his face told the true story. Between the deeper lines under his eyes and slight graying at the base of his crew cut, Clover appeared as if he’d aged a decade overnight. Burdened by the weight of worlds’ most damning secrets.

Ones that he knew only got worse the deeper the hole was dug. Qrow felt so far under at this point, he wasn’t sure he’d find the sky again. And the worst part was, the only action he had left was to choose if he wanted to toss the next person the shovel.

Regardless of his convictions to be as candid and brusque as possible to his friends and family, the idea of burying Clover along with him was terrifying.

A quiet chattering drew his eyes back to Jynx. Her eyes were half-closed in blissful contentment, unaware and detached from the woes of her people. He rubbed a finger between her ears, the way he’d learned she liked all the way back when she was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Back when she was so tiny, they’d almost missed her when clearing out the illegal dust testing facility deep in Mantle’s suburbs five years ago.

The mission had been a spur of the moment thing. He’d been tracing one of Salem’s subordinates when the Captain approached him. He still recalled how Clover had buttered him up as he explained that with one of their teammates sick, he was in need of a fifth and he ‘just couldn’t think of anyone more suited than Qrow’.

He wouldn’t say it worked or anything but, well, it just so happened the person he was looking for was also said to be someone of ‘scientific talent’. He’d taken the job completely on the merit of it being a potential lead, but if Clover wanted to shower him with compliments in the meantime, who was he to complain?

Next thing he knew, he was knocking a needle-wielding chemist unconscious and lifting guinea pigs out of overcrowded cages.

It took nearly the entire day to clear the facility. Most of the animals were either unaccustomed to being handled or traumatized from it, and it was difficult to recage them without risk of further injury. It was eventually left to the animal experts that had to be called in. Yet, despite the mission being technically fulfilled, Clover had been stubborn to leave, trying to find ways for them to contribute and becoming agitated if anyone tried to derail him.

Even at the time, when Qrow hadn’t yet known the younger huntsman well, he’d understood the behavior was unusual for the other man. It was hard to say if he simply became driven to assist, his soft spot for animals painfully clear, or if it was some mild form of Hunter’s Shock, the stress and horror of the situation putting him into a repetitive state.

Whatever it was, it was clear they were stuck there until the job was done.

So, mostly trying to look busy while staying out of the way, Qrow had found himself lazily strolling through the basement’s already emptied cage ring when his eyes, sharpened by years of looking down the barrel of a shotgun, caught the almost undetectable movement of hay breathing. Sure enough, brushing it aside revealed one of the smallest rabbits he’d ever seen – though she certainly had the loudest cry when he picked her up.

Like a mother responding to a distressed child, the Captain came running. Though his expression was quick to melt when he spotted them, easing into a smile for the first time that afternoon.

Lucky Number 13, Clover had cooed to her while Qrow cradled the shaking thing against his chest. He’d carried her the entire way back to Atlas, afraid she’d get lost or injured among the other hundred animals they’d rescued. At some point, she’d bonded with him.

“More like imprinted!” Tortuga had joked whenever the subject was brought up.

Keeping the rabbits after the mission hadn’t been planned, but Clover had managed to pull enough strings on Jimmy’s iron heart that the General had come out of it thinking he’d thought up the idea all along. The pen was made in record time and the recovering warren was introduced to their new home. Within days, each rabbit had a name, a toy, a bed and enough treats to hibernate a grizzly bear. Mostly provided by the Captain himself, though some of the other facility and students had donated to the cause.

They were officially presented as a wildlife addition to the garden – they were unofficially and more truthfully known as Captain Ebi’s pets.

Though the rabbits didn’t need constant care and the gardeners attended to their daily needs, Clover still swung by frequently, fitting them into a daily routine he kept to like clockwork. Monday and Friday mornings were given over to training. Tuesdays and Thursdays to team-building with the Ops through sharing or even making breakfast together. Weekends and Wednesdays were reserved for garden visits.

The reason for the change was obvious, but Qrow wasn’t quite ready to ask.

“So. Jimmy told you.” He stated instead.

Clover nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

“And… how are you doing?”

He’d been twenty years younger, when he’d been in Clover’s position. Barely graduated, when he took that first walk through the vault, Ozpin spinning grand stories and waving magic to life before his very eyes. He remembered how terrified he had been. He was just some feral kid from the forests of Anima who could barely figure out how his own Scroll worked. In what possible way was he up to the task of saving the world?

After being in the fold as long as he had, he quickly learned even people more capable than himself all tended to feel the gravity of the job.

Even someone as confidant and unshakable as Clover was not immune, his sigh long and drawn out. “Honestly? It’s a little overwhelming. I actually thought, that uh,” He laughed embarrassedly, “James had lost his mind.”

Qrow blinked.

Maybe the world really was ending.

“I woulda paid money to see that.” He teased.

Clover pinched him. “Oh shut up.” The lack of brushing made Dumpling start to fuss again, but rather than continue to pamper him, Clover set the lop back on the grass, before he lent back, letting out another of those long sighs. “I’ve been thinking a lot about how when I was a kid, I used to think the only way Atlas could possibly stay in the sky like it does was from magic. Then I grew up and the academy taught me different. It’s… terrifying, realizing how easy it’s been to lie to a whole nation’s worth of people.”

“Guess that means you agree with Jimmy’s plan then.” Qrow surmised.

“You don’t?” He challenged back, frowning. “We have thousands of people roaming these halls, none of them knowing that a few floors down lies one of the most powerful objects in the world. Don’t they deserve to know that one day they might be in charge of protecting it?”

Shifting uncomfortably, he averted his gaze, mumbling, “I never really thought about it. I trusted Oz to make those kinds of calls. And now he’s-” He felt his chest tighten, guilt a healed-over bruise pulsing on his knuckles. “Gone. Again.”

“I can imagine how lost that makes you feel.”

“I mean, I guess.” He grumbled, if only to save face.

But deep down, he knew Clover was right. Qrow wasn’t like him, or Oz, or James, or Summer or even Ruby. He needed someone to guide him on the right path. He screwed up things enough merely by existing – he couldn’t make it worse by trying to also make critical decisions.

Maybe it was that thought that made him add, “Starting to think I wasn’t cut out for this whole gig. All I’ve done is drag my nieces and their little friends into this whole mess and nearly got ‘em all killed. Isn’t really comparable to ‘restoring world communications’.”

“Yeah, I suppose being on the front lines at Haven and ensuring a relic didn’t fall into Salem’s hands is a bit more impressive.” Before he could even try to argue, Clover placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “We’ve all had to make some tough calls lately, but I know those kids were in good hands when one of the best huntsmen in all of Remnant was at their side.”

He could feel a blush creeping up his neck. “You’re just saying that because you’re completely starstruck with me.”

“I am.” The admittance was said with absolutely no hesitation, the man’s smile growing. “Qrow, some of my very best missions have been the ones I’ve gotten to go on with you. I admire you. Not because of your skill, but because you’ve never let the job change you. You scoff at your own fame and you don’t take missions looking at lien signs first. You do it for the right reasons, every time. I think that’s amazing.”

The blush was definitely on his face now.

Worse yet, the doubts and worries that had weighed on his mind for days now seemed to lighten, just a little bit.

Gods be damned, how did he always do that?

With no idea how to respond, he mumbled out a soft, “Thanks” hoping it came out more sincere than awkward.

“Anytime.” Thankfully, Clover backed off a bit, focusing back on the rabbits at his feet, picking up Bolt. Having gotten his name from how skittish he was, the cottontail took time to calm enough so he could be brushed.

Long enough for Qrow to compose himself before he spoke again. “So, how have things been otherwise?”

“They’ve been…” His shoulders fell, “Rough.”

Any doubts Qrow might have had before about the Ace Ops’ unannounced replacement crumbled right alongside Clover’s normally strong posture.

He shut his eyes, taking in a deep, bracing breath. As he focused on his friend once more, it was with all the unexpecting kindness he could muster that he asked, “Do you want to talk about him?” For a split second, Clover looked just like the rabbit in his lap – ready to sprint as far away as he could from danger. So Qrow quickly added, “You don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

Silence blanketed over them like a snowstorm, cold and desolate. The kind of weather that blew in fast and came down slow, pressing everything into such an unnoticed hush most didn’t notice their homes being covered until they looked up and saw they were six feet under. That’s where Clover seemed to be now, stuck inside and standing at the front door, uncertain if he was prepared to create the unavoidable mess it would take to dig his way outside.

Only this time, Qrow had given him the shovel. He just had to use it.

Leaving the soldier to sort out his emotions, Qrow idly pet Jynx, fingers scoring through her sleek black fur.

And he waited.

His gaze drifted to the ring of Cypress trees that bordered outside of the pen.

And he waited some more.

When Clover finally did speak, it seemed a struggle, the words fighting their way out. “Can you imagine how it was for us that day, when we watched our own Knights turn on Vale’s citizens? It was like a nightmare. We didn’t know what had happened. No one did. Without James to explain – to speak for himself – the council started shutting down units left and right. The AKs, the paladins, even our Manta Flyers. We had to rip out billions of lien in automated equipment just so we could fly down to Mantle.”

As if he were a Flyer himself, Bolt suddenly leapt out of his lap, landing back on the grass below. He quickly crowded himself between Orion and Sirias, trusting the giant Altexs to protect him.

Clover just let him go, dropping the brush beside himself as he shook his head. “By the time we got there, the city was overrun. Normally, we’d have enough firepower to deal with it. But James had brought most of the troops with him. Even when they came back, none of them were allowed to deploy to the field until they got questioned. It was a mess. Students and soldiers were kept in lockdown. James was incarcerated. It was months before we learned anything. And every day the public was kept in the dark, every day people feared the other kingdoms would come for us, was another day Grimm surged to our borders.”

It was a familiar story. Beacon’s fall shook the world in a brutal way, leaving no Kingdom untouched. Borders closing. Grimm everywhere. The peace between nations suddenly balancing on a delicate string, just waiting for something to break it.

Yet of everything that had come after that one, awful night, it was the personal losses that struck the hardest.

“I kept telling my own team to just… hold on another day. That things would get better soon. But then-” Clover choked for a second, having to swallow hard. “We got a report of a nest of Centinels in the basement of an apartment complex downtown. We were still cleaning up some stragglers nearby, so I sent Harriet and Tortuga ahead. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before Harriet started radioing in. ‘The building came down!’ she kept screaming. I’d never heard her so panicked.”

Qrow sucked in a sharp breath and for a second, he was right there with the other huntsman. Except, for him, it was with a scroll in his ear and Oz’s grief-filled voice shattering his soul as the headmaster told him one of his closest friends wasn’t coming home.

The flash of memory faded as quick as it had come, but the heaviness in his heart stayed as Clover pressed on.

“She told us that some Centinel acid had melted through a supporting wall. Tortuga had been slowing the damage while Harriet tried to get all the occupants out in time. Any other day, they could have done it. If we weren’t all running on empty, I know they could have. Instead, they were only halfway through when suddenly, it all just came down. Harriet was outside when it happened.” Clover lent forward, hay crunching under his grasp as he clutched onto it. “The whole time I was running to their position, I kept telling her everything would be fine. I’d use my luck and we’d pull him out and he’d probably laugh at us for worrying so much. Never knowing it didn’t matter how much luck I had.” He chuckled. It was a hollow, broken noise. “He was already gone. The pathologists said he’d died instantly.”

Then that chuckle turned into a sob.

Knowing better than most that there were no words that made this part easier, Qrow did the only thing he could as he slid a hand along the other’s back and tugged him close.

It was a quarter to nine by the time they were getting ready to leave. Clover gave one last cursory check to the food and water while Qrow mentally counted the warren for a fourth time – they didn’t need another incident like when Snowblossom escaped and terrorized the lavender field. He’d finished his count by the time Clover was ushering him through the gate.

He’d finished it again when it locked behind them.

As they started around the first bend of the path, he almost couldn’t fight the urge to go back just to be safe.

Luckily, Clover was a great distraction. “So now that you’re in Atlas, what do you and your entourage plan to do?”

“Uh.” Was that a trick question? “Help with Jimmy’s pet project, obviously.”

“Besides that. It’s not like we’re going to work you all 24/7.”

Qrow wouldn’t mind if they did. At least, for him. Free time seemed… dangerous, when he’d used to fill it with taking shots at the nearest bar. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t really do much else. When he was bored, he went to a bar. When he had a day off, he went to a bar. When he was looking to have fun, he went to a bar. When he didn’t want to see people, then he skipped the bar, got a six pack, and drank himself to oblivion.

Shit.

He was going to have to find a hobby, wasn’t he?

In the end, he shrugged, replying glumly, “Guess we’ll have to figure it out.”

“What about training?” Clover held up a hand in a gesture of peace as Qrow frowned at him. “Not you. The kids. There’s going to be a lot ahead for all of us and the sooner we get used to working together, the better. And, well, considering their age I’m sure some of them are still rough around the edges too.”

He snorted, but didn’t argue that fact. Really, all of them were incredibly skilled, but that didn’t mean perfection. Ren was still flaking in the stamina department. Weiss had to work on her spatial awareness. Jaune needed, well, everything. After years of being a combat teacher, it wasn’t hard to pick out the kids’ flaws. To say nothing of Oscar who, without Oz as a crutch, probably would be better off if they just shipped him into a witness protection program.

It was time that worked against them all. Ideally, it’d be best enrolling them back into school, were they could finish off their graduate programs and gain the wisdoms of various professors who could help them hone their talents. But, seeing as that wasn’t in the cards, he supposed getting some pointers from some of the best Atlas had to offer was a decent replacement.

“I’m sure they’d like that.” Qrow could already imagine how Ruby would bounce off the walls at the idea of getting trained by real huntsmen. As if he were chopped liver, or something.

(He could also already picture her waving his complaints away. “Uncles don’t count. You’re obligated to do nice things for me.”)

“Great! We can work out a schedule once you’re all a bit more settled.” Clover was practically glowing, as if he couldn’t wait to start penning things in on his calendar. Dork.

Yet, he’d take this much happier, lively Clover over the despairing, grieving one he’d just consoled any day of the year.

In fact, the air was so much lighter than it had been, as they rounded another bend and the willow tree came into sight, he was already preparing himself for the other man to drop his usual line, retort already on the tip of his tongue.

Yet, as they came level with it, Clover did something even more daring as he reached across the space between them and caught Qrow’s hand in his.

He stared down at this grand declaration, then up at Clover himself, meeting questing, hopeful eyes.

Heart racing, he curled his fingers over Clover’s, and despite the other’s rounded knuckles or his own lanky fingers, despite mismatched calluses and hairline scars, despite the rings or the gloves, they seemed a perfect fit.

Perhaps, Qrow wouldn’t be so bored in Atlas after all.

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #fairgameweek2021 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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heavenlysan · 4 years

Text

Cruel Love (10)

Words: 3,5

Chapters:

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

(Y/N’s POV)

I have to admit at first I didn’t want to drive, I’m a terrible driver my car and the FBI’s car had a lot of scratches everywhere and I didn’t want to leave San’s car the same way something tells me he wouldn’t care but I anyways drove as best as I could but keeping it that way was hard since I could feel San’s deep stare while driving, it was definitely making me blush and giving me a thousand thoughts but I tried to ignore it for as long as I could.

“You know you’re not supposed to distract the driver right?” I say with a smile, without taking my eyes off the road.

“I’m not doing anything” He teased

“You’re staring at me”

“I just think you look gorgeous with my hoodie”

I unglued my eyes from the road to look down at my body, shit I forgot I’m wearing his hoodie. “I’m sorry I kept wearing it” He laughs and I chuckle, he sounds more relaxed now but not completely.

“You don’t have to apologise to me” There’s a red light and I take advantage of that to look at him “Like ever”

San is so sweet and I can’t help but feel like shit, my initial idea was doing something good for him to release the noticeable stress he was carrying on his shoulders but while driving I got the stupid idea of taking him to the FBI and forget this beautiful fantasy ever happened. I hated myself for having that second idea so I pushed it back, really back on my mind and threw it in a trash can. Sooner or later I’m gonna have to give Irene all the updates but for now I don’t want to think about that. The light changes back to green and I get back to driving.

“You look tense princess” He says with a frown.

“Is it that obvious oh god” I ask while I touch my cheek as I feel it warming up “I’m a terrible driver” I confess ashamed.

“You’re doing great” I snicker shyly. Anyone else in the world would get nervous if the designated driver suddenly admits they’re bad at driving, why is he so calmed?

“I guess you haven’t seen my car” I say while looking at him for half a second and get my eyes back on the road immediately “But it’s okay we’re almost there"

"We can play some music and maybe that’ll relax you” I’m hesitant, I think music distracts me even more but San’s hand is already turning on his radio.

“It’s all about finding the right song” The first seconds of around twelve songs passed but none of those convinced him he was about to give up and turn it back off but then he stopped in one and smiled at me “This one is perfect”

“The Beach Boys?” Wouldn’t it be nice was playing, in the corner of my eye I saw him and he looked pleased.

“Yeah why not” He playfully asks “We can sing it together”

“What?” My eyes go wide open along with a smile “You don’t wanna hear me singing”

“It’s only for relaxing purposes princess and wouldn’t it be nice to live together in the kind of world where we belong?” He starts singing and I listen in awe, he had to be sweet, caring, handsome and have a gorgeous voice didn’t he? “Come on this is a classic I know you know the lyrics”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up in the morning when the day is new? And after having spent the day together” I stop singing and laugh embarrassed “I can’t but you keep going”

“What? You sound perfect princess” He replies “Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray It might come true”

He keeps singing and clapping his hands and I actually pay attention to the song and I can help but feel upset a sigh leaves my body wouldn’t it be nice if I had met San under different circumstances. I stop the car abruptly and he looks at me surprised and confused.

“I need you to cover your eyes” I say softly he looks at me with squinted eyes but does as I say.

I drive just a little bit more and he grows impatient, are we there yet? He keeps asking and I keep saying no I have to admit he sounds… Adorable.

It looks like it didn’t rain around here and that’s a relief my plan would’ve been ruined a little if it had.

“Okay we’re here but don’t uncover your eyes yet” I say and I undo both of our seat belts.

I get out of the car and a nice breeze of fresh air hits me, this is one of my favourite places so I really hope he likes this. I open San’s door and I walk behind him covering his eyes so he doesn’t cheat.

“Okay here it is” I remove my hands from his eyes and he gasps.

“The ocean?” He looks around completely amazed.

“Yeah but that isn’t all the beauty of this place look up” San does as I say and he looks like an excited child and I smile at the sight of the stars reflected in his eyes “There aren’t buildings around here and as you can see it’s pretty dark and because of that the stars are more visible. And well you see, a sweet and handsome man once told me that after an orgasm you’re supposed to see the stars but I didn’t bring you here to have sex but I still wanted you to see the stars” He looks back at me and a soft smile grows in his face making his eyes slowly desapear.

“How do you do that princess” A confused expression shows on my face.

“Do what?”

“Make my heart flutter”

I felt shivers down my spine and butterflies in my stomach. San you make my heart flutter as well I thought to myself. If someone had told me that I would be feeling this way towards San when I had just started this case I would’ve probably laughed hysterically, and if someone had told me years ago that a man was going to look at me with such tenderness in his eyes and hold me and protect me like I’m the most precious diamond on earth I probably would’ve been sad and mad at them for making such jokes.

“There’s something I want to know princess” He lays his long black coat on the sand for us to sit “I just told you I’m the leader of a big Mafia aren’t you scared or curious about it, you look so calmed”

“Well yeah I’m a little curious, but when you told me about it it sounded like you were nervous about it I don’t wanna push you or something we have plenty of time” He looks touched at my words

“We can talk about it, I trust you enough, ask away”

To be honest I didn’t want more details, the more details I had the more details Irene had. But San wanted to talk about it and changing the conversation would be plain rude.

“How did it started” I say quietly

He sighs but doesn’t look bothered by my question “I didn’t build it on my own, I had a friend and we both worked as hitmen for his grandfather, I started getting closer with him and soon he considered me his grandson too and his right hand, I stopped being just a hitman to be involved in all the things he did as well” he takes a pause to look at me “But then age started doing things to him, he realised that he couldn’t work anymore and he left the big empire he created to the person he trusted the more, at that time we all thought it would be his grandson but he gave it to me”

“Did he die” I ask

“No, he’s still alive but he doesn’t remember a thing I think he still recognises some people but not so much” He says and his voice sounds sad I guess that man is someone San looked up to.

“But please don’t think bad of me princess, I know I was a hitman but I only killed bad people, real criminals, I always did my research and I never killed innocent people—”

I cut him off by placing one of my fingers on his lips I give him a quick smile and I rest my head on his shoulder while holding is hand “You really don’t have to explain that to me” I feel his shoulder relaxing as I let out those words “And what happened after that, it must have been a lot of pressure for you”

“It was, especially since my friend got really mad at me after his grandfather picked me and not him and that’s understandable but I had no control over that, I told him we could work together and make it even bigger but he left and made his own businesses” He rests his head on mine and sighs “After that Wooyoung, Seonghwa and Hongjoong joined me I felt bad since we were long time friends and I knew they had different plans for their lives but I needed men I could trust and they needed money so we worked together, later on Yunho, Mingi, Yeosang and Jongho joined, and we build it even bigger we got deals not only here but outside the country too, like Japan, Italy, Colombia, Mexico and many more and deals with politicians as well, I have control pretty much on everything around here and outside, my old man was scared to get this out of the country but we’re careful with everything we do and it has been going well so far”

I’m left without words, knowing all of this I think I can see and understand what I thought it was his dark side. He has this job not because he wanted to but because someone trusted him. Yeah he killed people but he only killed bad people, while being a detective I’ve known cops and judges who have killed or imprisoned good and innocent people and those cops and judges don’t get the punishment they deserve all because of their high positions those people are the real criminals.

“You still don’t look slightly concerned or scared” He saids and pulls me out of my thoughts.

“You want me to be scared of you?” He laughs as he shakes his head.

“No, I just expected a different reaction”

“It’s because I don’t have or had the best lifestyle and I don’t think I’m in the place to judge you or be scared of you”

“Being a sex worker isn’t something to be ashamed of princess” I wasn’t talking about that, or me being a detective.

“It’s not that, and I’m not ashamed about being a prostitute, I was talking about my past, I think I’ve killed a man” I take a second to process why I said it and why I said it as if it was nothing.

“You think?” He looks confused.

I don’t understand why but I keep going “Do you remember I told you about me being homeless for some time” He nods “And then how a man found me, I lived with him only for a few months, but it felt like an eternity at first I thought I was in love with him he took care of me and paid for my food and other stuff but” I start trembling a little but I force myself to endure it and stop “When I saw myself in the mirror and I finally noticed all the bruises I had I realised that that wasn’t love and I had to leave that place or else I’d end up dead” His chin trembled like he’s holding back tears and that pained my heart “One night I got him drunk really drunk, when he passed out in his room I set the place on fire and I locked all the doors so he couldn’t escape and I ran as fast as possible, so fast and so much that I ended up right here, I cried so much but it felt like a cry of victory not of sadness, I stayed here till the sunrise this place made me feel safe and at peace it became my secret and favourite spot” I sigh “I never went back or tried to find out if he died or survived, I survived and nothing else mattered”

The wind and waves is the only sound, he pulls me into his lap and I wrap my legs around his waist resting my arms on his shoulders. He’s lost at words just as I was after he talked about his life.

“You don’t have to carry that on your own any longer” He said while holding my cheek and he was right, I think at this point he already knows almost everything about me and it felt so relieving letting out all the secrets I held on my own for so long, it felt liberating.

“I just told you that I think I’ve killed a man but you don’t look scared of me Sannie” His sad puppy expression changes into a small smile.

I rest on my back with my legs still wrapped around San bringing him down with me, I give him a quick kiss and as I saw him and his sparkling eyes, his dimples, his gentle touch and my heart out of control I realised something. I like him… so much, and I don’t want to keep this going fuck Irene and this mission she and the FBI can go and fuck themselves, this is the only good and real thing that has happened in my entire life and I don’t want it to end, even if I end up in jail for not following my contract I won’t do this to San he doesn’t deserve this.

“What are you thinking princess?” He asks suddenly bringing me back

“Choi San I think I like you too” His eyes go wide open and his jaw drops, he gets up from our hold and he looks like he cannot believe what I just said, he points his index finger at himself and a soft almost inaudible me? leaves his lips. “Yes you, I like you”

He runs towards the ocean with his arms open “She likes me back” He yells with happiness and excitement as the waves touch him. I run to him and I jump onto his torso, he catches me and our bodies fit so well, Lucy was right and I finally found the missing piece of my puzzle. “Princess with those words you just made me the happiest man on earth” He kisses me, slowly, his hands are on my tights lifting me and I want to stay this close for longer. His lips feel so good pressed against mine, his tongue feels so good dancing with mine.

He walks back to our spot, with me still in his arms, the moonlight covering and protecting us, this doesn’t feel like the beginning criminal and undercover detective, right now this is just us, simply as that. I lie on San’s coat him by my side, he shifts his body to lie on his side, I cup his cheek bringing him closer to me I leave a kiss on his lips a long lasting one and move on to his neck.

“Don’t do that princess or else we’ll end up fucking right here” I laugh at his words

“That’s the point” A sensual grin appears on his face, I want to feel his touch and he understands my begging eyes, his wet hair drips water droplets onto my face. He kisses me rough and I can’t understand how just a kiss gets me on fire, I feel my entire body burning. He brings his hand to my neck and trails it down down the valley of my breasts, down my stomach just with his fingertips until he stops, he lifts my dress up and I no longer feel exposed or shy in front of him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He goes back to kissing me and his hand back to my stomach right above my underwear. His touch is so slow but he knows exactly what he’s doing. His hand reaches into my panties, and a soft moan comes from my lips and I feel him smiling between our kiss. His fingers move a little “You’re so wet princess, you feel so good” he says as I moan “I love that sound princess moan for me” His fingers go faster, I feel like I’m gonna explode my hands travel to his neck and to his hair, his fingers still inside me going in circles, I bring him closer to me kissing and leaving a mark on his neck, he groans, it’s like music to my ears. “I can’t get enough of you, y/n” it’s been a long time since he called me by my name, his voice sounds raspy and deeper, filled with lust. it sounds so hot when he says it. “I want to kiss every single inch of you” He whispers. I’m hypnotized by his brown eyes staring fervently into mine. He kisses me, his lips are demanding, soft and slow, he leaves a trail of kisses down to my neck, my chest, my stomach, his fingers suddenly stopping and I wanted to scream, I want more, but then I felt something even better, his tongue, this feels like paradise. I run my fingers through his hair, I’m desperate I want him deeper inside of me.

"San please” I cried, his hands squeezing my tights, his lips felt so good, his tongue felt even better, I was moaning out of control. I look down at San looking up at me and grinning, his hair wet and pressed down on his forehead, his tongue extended, my back arched and my legs twitching, I throw my head back and I feel this huge relief. It’s almost painful yet so satisfying. I push him so he rests on his back I get on top of him taking him by surprise he took the lead for too long now it’s my turn. I wanted to kiss him forever, I kissed his neck and he loved it as much as I do. The bulge in his thin boxers growing, I reach down caressing San, Fuck he whines, my fingers go around him and I wiggle them a little. I lean down, opening my mouth I take him in, his moans are desperate and I just can’t get enough of that sound and how I’m the one provoking it, his hips rock upward to meet my mouth. I push myself further, taking all of him in, and look up at him. His eyes are rolled to the back of his head and his breathing is slow and heavy, he looks heavenly.

“Fuck… princess” he gasps my hand moves up and down on the bottom of him as my mouth works the tip. I look up at him and I love the way he is losing control because of me. I pull away teasing him, I get it inside of me all at once it’s painful but I get used to it in a matter of seconds, he wraps his arms around me, He groaned low in his throat when I started grinding against him. I moaned against his lips, his tongue swiping across my top lip biting it down as he thrusts his hips up.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could stay here forever.

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glowingspence · 3 years

Text

Little hands

Rossi and Hotch take in one last kid - Spencer.

Part 3 Chapter 5

Summary: JJ apologizes and Derek takes Spencer to the office after he asked for it for so long

Word count: 2157

Category: Hurt/Comfort / Light Angst

Ao3 Read below the cut:

"So what are we choosing?" Kate asks standing next to JJ in the line for donuts.

"Something with strawberries"

"That sounds fun I am sure they have that." She tries cheering her up. If anyone of the kids is affected by Hotch and Rossi scolding it’s JJ and while Rossi gave in already telling her it's not as bad, that she was right to include Spencer in the tradition Hotch still shows them the cold shoulder. Not entirely but a kid knows. And especially a kid as sensitive as JJ.

"So what's eating your mind?" She asks when she sits down with her at the small table at the mall.

"Nothing"

"You can tell me" They had spent the afternoon together. Walking through the mall,looking at clothes, buying a few crystals and now eating donuts together but JJ didn't seem to once be able to get pulled out of her guilt. "You know when I was a kid - I was about your age I would snuck out of the house and I would walk this long dark path through a forest and when I would reach the end there would be a field with horses and my parents never wanted me to go there because the man who would own thos houses had a criminal history and I didn't understand that. I would always go there and one day my parents found out and they were furious and I would still go there and years later I found out that he was falsely framed and always the nice man I fought he was but my parents couldn't know that and looking back, I would have done the same thing as a parent."

"Papa is angry"

“But don’t you think he has a valid reason to be?“

“That makes it worse.“

“Did you apologise?“ Kate asks looking at JJ who plays with the napkin in her hand, clearly not seeming like she has an appetite.

“Multiple times.“

“To both of them?“ JJ shrugs and then takes her drink taking a sip. “Is there maybe a chance you forgot apologising to Aaron?“

“Spencer?“ Derek calls through the house. He is grateful to be able to live in such a great place but the size doesn’t make it easier to find your little brother that tends to not respond when he is being called.

“Downstairs“ Emily calls from her room and Derek is lucky and finds him curled up at the end of the house on a small armchair.

“Here you are.“ Derek rubs his hands together for a moment before speaking up again to catchhid attention.

“I am busy right now. Don’t you see?“

“I have a surprise for you“

“I don’t like surprises.“ Spencer states in a monotonous voice turning the page of his book.

“I will bet you like this one.“ Derek steps closer and waits for Spencer to give him his attention. “I bet you won’t turn my surprise down.“

“What is it?“ Spencer quizzes looking away from his book.

“We will drive down to Aaron’s work now.“

“Really?“

“Yes come on. Shoes on, jacket on, off we go.“ Spencer doesn’t even question if David knows about the plan and just rushes behind Derek and is excitedly flapping his hands while Derek tries buckling him up. “One moment sitting still so I can see if everything sits right okay?“

“Can’t sit still right now.“ Derek presses Spencer with a hand on his chest against the seat and checks if the seatbelt is buckled up correctly. “Oh you are strong.“

“One day you will too.“ With that Derek closes the door and walks around the car reading Emily‘s message,

“Aaron is gonna be pissed.“

“RIP to you“

He ignores it and gets into the driver seat checking Spencer’s backpack if he has everything that he needs.

"How long will we drive?"

"Half an hour"

"Can we listen to music?"

"Sure" Derek connects his phone to the radio and starts playing his playlist much to Spencer's disapproval as they pull out of the driveway. "What?"

"It's not music"

"You sound like Dad already"

"I am not that old"

"Not what I meant" Spencer leans down pulling Sima out of his backpack, clinching the stuffed animal to his stomach, rocking back and forth slightly. "Tell me when you feel uncomfortable"

"I don't" The younger brother stays quiet for a long moment and then starts giggling out of the blue and doesn't seem to be able to stop.

"What?" Derek can't stop the smile creeping on his face either.

"What? What? I am going to the FBI" He exclaims, pronouncing especially the “the”.

"You need to find a hobby if that makes you that happy"

"You need to find a hobby if that makes you that happy. I have a hobby"

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah. I read and I draw"

"You draw"

"You draw?Yes"

"You any good at it?"

"You any good at it? I don't know"

"I am sure you are. You can show me when we come home."

"I am sure you are. You can show me when we come home. I am sure you are. You can show me when we come home."

"You sure you are okay kid?"

"You sure you are okay kid? You sure you are okay,kid? Good. Good. Have a lot of happy feeling."

"Keep stimming" Morgan tries suddenly getting anxious that this is too much for Spencer.

"Keep stimming. Keep stimming."

"Do your hand thing" Instead of flapping his hands what Derek hinted at he starts hitting his head.

"Hey! We don't do that." Derek reminds him a little bit louder than necessary but it got the kid to freeze in his actions. "What do we do instead? We do this" He takes one hand of his steering wheel for a moment and rubs it with pressure over his own chest. "Copy what I am doing"

"Copy what I am doing?" He does but then goes back to flapping his hands.

"That's okay too just don't hit yourself"

"Can I come in?" Rossi is standing in front of Emily's door.

"Yes"

"What are you doing?" He asks when he enters the room and sees her sitting on her bed, her Ipad leaning on her pulled up legs as she takes one of her headphones out.

"Watching a show."

"What is it about?"

"What do you want?"

"Can we talk about what is going on with you?"

"No." She doesn't look up to him. "I changed my mind, can you please?"

"Kiddo I am not here because you are in trouble"

"I want to be alone now"

"I thought we figured out what was wrong and talked about it?"

"Seriously Dave just go"

"No"

"What is your problem?"

"My problem is that my daughter won't speak to me."

"Not my problem. Go now please."

Patiently Derek stands next to his car waiting for Spencer to get out of it. "What's wrong?"

The kid just shrugs and keeps playing with Sima. "You can take her, we can take your whole backpack."

Slowly Derek gets down on one knee next to the car and opens his arms, "Come here" Hesitantly Spencer gets out and leans against his chest. "What is it?"

Instead of talking he hides his face against Derek's neck. "You need a moment, is that it?" Spencer nods and Derek grabs his own jacket, placing it over Spencer's shoulders before picking him up again, pulling it now higher to cover parts of his face, giving him a chance to hide away from the world.

Derek had watched Spencer doing this countless of times with blankets and clothes or even grabbing Dave's hand and placing it on his face while cuddling with him because if there was one of millions of things that prior families got wrong about Spencer it's that he does not dislike physical contact, he dislikes unannounced physical contact.

If they tell him beforehand, if they ask him if they can hug him, if they ask if he wants to be hold he will almost always agree and after he learned that no one is touching him without a warning he got very quick with initiating it himself especially when he gets overwhelmed.

He throws Spencer's backpack over his shoulder, and places his free hand on the bag of Spencer's head as he walks towards the building and he can feel him gripping his shirts and slightly hit his head against Derek's shoulder when they enter the building.

"How can I help you, Sir?"

"My name is Derek Rossi Hotchner. I am a visitor for Aaron Hotchner with the BAU."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"He is expecting me. I am his son. It should be noted in his file."

"Oh yeah I just read it. I need your ID and then you are good to go. Who is the little one in your arms?"

"Spencer Reid,I hope he is noted already too?"

"No I am sorry" Derek hands her his ID. "How old is he?"

"Seven"

"What damage will he do right?" She hands him two visitor badges. "I assume you already know this but you two need to get through security over there and then you are good to go."

"Thank you Ma'am" Nervously Derek walks over to the security.

"Sir I need to look into your backpack and you please walk through the metal detector, and your- whatever too"

"Is it okay if he stays on my arm? He is not doing well with this" Derek voices his concern. "The metal detector will detect metal either way"

"Don't lecture me about my job"

"Derek!" He hears a familiar voice and when he turns around he sees Gideon approaching them. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting Aaron" Gideon pulls out his badge and leads them through the security. "Thank you"

"No problem, who have you got there?" He asks with a smile when they are standing in the elevator and Derek slightly pulls the jacket down revealing Spencer's face or everything that isn't converted by his hands as he starts whining and pressing against his older brother again to shield old the lights.

"May I introduce? Spencer"

"Nice to meet you,Spencer" Anxious Spencer looks in the opposite direction. "You were also shy in the beginning," Gideon tells Morgan. "The FBI building was not at all your favorite place you wouldn't wander around you would stay in your dad's office and in your dad's office only"

Shyly Spencer turns his head around looking at Gideon and when they leave the elevator he points at him. "That's Jason Gideon. He is a close friend of Aaron and David. David and him have founded the BAU together." Derek explains.

Carefully Morgan pulls the jacket off his shoulders but doesn't take it off completely so he can pull it over him again if he gets overwhelmed. He sometimes thinks his parents think way too complicated when it comes to soothing Spencer.

"I heard you like reading" Insecure Spencer nods and leans his head down on Derek's shoulder, seeming like he was ready looking around but still faced the older man. "What's your favorite?"

"Have you ever heard of David Rossi? The kid reads it as his night time story" Derek jokes and can already see in the man's eyes the lecture his dad now expects.

Derek takes it slow with walking to the bullpen letting Spencer look around and the other agents on Aaron's team look up, eyeing them but no one approaches them, giving Derek the chance to get up to his office first.

"What are you doing here? Is everything okay?" Worried Aaron gets up from his seat.

"You forgot something"

"What did I forget?"

"Taking Spencer here."

"I was busy-"

"Yeah you are already busy when you are on cases for weeks, it won't hurt you to at least take a few hours and do this right?"

"Derek I do not appreciate this tone"

"You won't listen to us when we say it otherwise." Gideon steps inside placing a hand on Derek's back. "It's true, don't defend him."

"I wasn't going to."

"Papa!" Another voice fills the office and JJ runs inside reaching for him to pick her up.

"Is everyone here?"

"Hey Derek" Kate greets him and steps inside too seeing Spencer and Derek. "Oh how adorable"

"Why- oh angel" He only realizes now that JJ is crying. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I am sorry for sneaking away the other day"

"It's okay, you already got your punishment."

"But you are still mad"

"Not at you, It's okay." He tries soothing her. "It's okay, pumpkin. You are okay, I am not mad."

Spencer meanwhile let's Derek cover him again and Kate walks over giving Derek a gentle squeeze at the arm.

"You are all good, it's okay" Hotch repeats to the sobbing girl in his arms. "I am not mad at you I promise."

#little hands series #my writing #ao3 #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jereau #kate callahan #jason gideon #david rossi #emily prentiss #autistic spencer reid

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katierosefun · 3 years

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andddd july flew by, and i’m here to give everyone an unasked for report of...things...i watched / read / listened to this month because why not

kdramas:

miss hammurabi

aaaah oh my god the way i told myself that i won’t be watching any more legal kdramas because your honor stressed me out so much--but god. i wound up watching this and fell in love with it so fast? miss hammurabi is about a rookie judge (the gal on the right) disrupting the judicial system with her strong sense of justice. i really wasn’t too sure if i’d like her, but oh god. i fell in love with her so fast, with her desire to make the world a better place and her ability to smile even though she’s had a horrific life of her own.

honestly, i really just loved this show, mostly for how it covers so many issues in the courthouse, from working overtime to the emotional fatigue to the frustrations with those brought to court to the actual cases themselves, which are all civil court things (so we get some stuff about sexual harassment, child custody, medical malpractice, etc). this show really demonstrated that each of these cases were important--and also...really hard-hitting. i think i cried at least once per episode just because...yeah. i’m reminded that no one goes to the courthouse because they’re happy or because they’re having a good time, and it really is the job of judges and lawyers to keep a cool head and execute justice the best they can.

so basically: i loved this show. i loved it a lot more than i thought i would, and that’s always a good thing. there’s also not a whole ton of romance here either, if you’re looking for a show that’s not really too deep into that. it’s def. more focused on depicting the legal field, as well as all of the complications that come with that. as a result, there’s a lot of heartbreaking moments in the show, but there’s also many, many, many uplifting ones that reminded me a lot of why i personally want to enter the legal field. so if you’re looking for a show that might restore your faith in humanity, then i def. recommend this kdrama!

beyond evil

so.....it’s no secret that i’ve been mildly obsessed with this show. i binge-watched it in the span of...i think four (4) days, so that’s averaging about four episodes (4 hours) a day. let me just say...i was kind of on the fence about watching this, but now i’m really glad that i did because whooo boy, i was in for a ride. basically, this show is about lee dong sik, who was accused of murdering his sister (amongst others) 20 years ago...and han ju won, the young detective / inspector who’s trying to track down the murderer (who he believes is lee dong sik).

lots of other things happen, but that’s the least spoiler-y summary i can give of this show because....whooooo boy, there’s just so many twists and turns in this show? as soon as you start thinking you have everything figured out, this show tosses in another thing that reminds you of just how clueless you actually are. that said though, none of the twists felt out of place--they all felt very planned and very smart, so kudos to the writers for that!

overall, i hella enjoyed this show--the plot, the characters (who all want to do the right thing, but they’re all very jaded in their own ways which makes being a 100% good person basically impossible in this monster of a town), and, of course, the relationship between dong sik and ju won. there was just an absolutely fascinating push and pull between their relationship, lots of distrust and mocking each other in the beginning...only to slowly but steadily grow into trust and respect for each other (and in my head, def. something more....but lol i’ll let you guys decide on that for yourself ;))

i.....genuinely loved this show. i found this show just incredibly smartly written, and all the characters were incredibly intriguing? and the relationships were all fascinating to me? just. god. this show ripped me apart so many times, and i loved it all the more for it. like. guys. i wrote or started writing about six fics for this show in the span of 48 hours because i love it that much.

movies:

the handmaiden

ohohoho this movie has been on my to watch list for the LONGEST TIME, and i was glad that i gave myself some time to watch this movie at the start of the month, because...whoooo boy, it was so good. this movie is inspired by the book the fingersmith by sarah waters, only whereas i think the book took place in victorian england, this movie takes place in japan-occupied-korea. sook hee, a pickpocket, is hired by a conman to persuade the secluded lady hideko to marry him. the conman plans to later inherit hideko’s wealth and send hideko off to the madhouse.

many things happen over the course of this movie, and i’m not going to spoil anything, but oh boy...oh boy. i mean, this movie is pretty well-known for the main relationship between the two protagonists, sook hee and hideko. the romance was such a ride, and i thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of it. this movie really said “be gay, do crime” in the best way possible.

as a quick warning though, this movie definitely is erotic. i kinda knew that heading into the movie, and i was still a little caught off-guard. so maybe if you’re a little squicked out by sex/erotica in general, i’d maybe skip over this movie. that said, this movie was beautifully filmed, with beautiful writing, and the cast was just perfect. i don’t think i’ve seen a movie so beautifully or smartly crafted like this before, and i’m very glad i watched this film.

the meg

let me caveat by saying....i watched this because my brother wanted to watch it, so i sat through this movie and...y’know? it wasn’t awful. kinda predictable as far as shark movies go, but it wasn’t bad! i found myself enjoying it a little more than i thought i would...? but basically, this movie is about, you guessed it, an underwater research facility that was just looking into a deeper part of the ocean and etc. surprise, they found! a megalodon. multiple megalodons! cue the chaos.

so...there were definitely some more suspenseful moments. i shouted “these people just KEEP FALLING OFF THE BOAT” a few times. there was one character who i was like “oh man he’s gonna be the villain isn’t he :( darn :(” to “oh hey he has a heart” to “oh never mind” to “ooph”. there were some more slightly emotional moments, but?? not particularly thought-provoking or impactful. so like? overall? it was one of those movies where like....it’s not bad, it’s not really good, but! hey, not all movies need to be incredibly deep to be even somewhat enjoyable! (and like, i mostly just enjoyed watching this movie because my brother and i cracked commentary all throughout it, much to my father’s chagrin.)

music:

so, apparently my music taste changes when i’m thinking about something that’s not star wars related, and i saw a bit of that when i was making this playlist for lee dong sik and han joo won from beyond evil. as spotify works, it wound up with me adding a few of my songs that i thought fit them, and then i wound up going into the radio part of my playlist and listening to a lot of new songs, and i just have to list some of my new faves here:

let me follow by son lux: you know when you hear a song that just feels so...strangely cinematic? like, you get all kinds of vivid images in your head and stuff? this was def. one of those songs. it’s quiet, and there’s something weirdly...ephemeral about it? that’s the only way i can describe it. and mildly haunting. and mildly tragic. idk why, but i think big fans of tragedy & the patroclus/achilles kind of feel might like this song. it’s just. god. i spent 2 hours sitting in my bed just listening to this song on loop.

not in the same way by 5 seconds of summer: this is a public scolding @ 15 year old me who thought it was lame to like 5sos just because they were getting popular. boo, 15 year old caroline and her “i’m a weirdo, i’m not like other girls or other people my age” phase! because 5sos actually slaps, and this was one of my fave songs? idk. another weirdly cinematic song. the refrain is just chef’s kiss, in the kind of rambly way that leads to a shout. i love that kind of stuff.

start of time by gabrielle aplin. bro...the way gabrielle aplin’s voice brought me straight back to 2014-2016 era caroline...but weirdly, i haven’t heard this song from her before? and bro. bro....i’ve never wanted to run to the top of a hill and watch the sunrise with a loved one so bad in my whole life. god. idk. if you need a song that makes you feel like. things just might get better. this one’s for you.

sedated by hozier: okay, so i’ve only ever listened to a handful of hozier songs in my whole life (i know, i know, how can i bicon like myself not listen to hozier 24/7? le sigh), but bro.....bro. i get it now. i get why people screech about hozier. i already liked his music before, but...ah. idk. something very powerful about this song. i now understand why people want to lie down in the middle of the woods when they listen to his music.

#caroline recs #i didn't watch or read a whole ton of things because....super deep into lsat prep now #but yee here we are

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cctinsleybaxter · 3 years

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2020 in books

2020 was a year of changed reading habits; people reading more than ever or not at all, some changing their tastes and others turning to old comforts. While there weren’t any huge overhauls on my end, more free time did mean a total of 32 in a wider range of genres. In the past couple of years I found a lot of the things I read to be kind of middling and ranked them accordingly, but this year had some strong contenders in the mix. With college officially behind me I love nonfiction again, and I really need to stop being drawn in by novels with long titles that ‘sound interesting.’ A piece of advice to my future self: they will only make you angry.

The Good

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky I loved the BBC radio play when I first listened to it back in 2017, but didn’t know if I could stomach the idea of actually reading the 700-page book, especially since I already knew the plot (spoiler alert: this had no effect and I gasped multiple times despite knowing what was going to happen; Fyodor’s just that good at atmosphere.) The story follows Prince Lev Myshkin, a goodhearted but troubled man entering 1860s Petersburg high society and meeting all of the wretched people therein as he navigates life, laughs, love, unanswerable questions of faith, and human suffering. I care about it in the same way I think other people care about reality TV shows and soap operas. I’m so personally invested in the drama and feel so many different emotions directed at these clowns that it’s like being a fan of Invitation to Love (with an ending equally upsetting to that of the show ITL is from, Twin Peaks.)

Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlanksy I adored this book. The first half reads a little like a Wikipedia article, and I was worried that it was leaning too clinical and would be disaffected with colonialism and indigenous peoples, but even that oversight is corrected for as the text goes on. It’s not going to be for everybody because it really is just the world’s longest encyclopedia entry on, well, salt, but it’s written with such excitement for the topic and is so well-researched and styled for commercial nonfiction that I think it deserves any and all praise it’s gotten. We have to talk about that time Cheshire was literally sinking into the ground, and companies who were over-pumping brine water to steal each other’s brine water said ‘no it’s okay it’s supposed to that’ so were legally dismissed as suspects.

Midnight Cowboy by James Leo Herlihy Cried. 10/10. The plot of Midnight Cowboy is very classic and actually has a lot in common with The Idiot, as 20-something Joe Buck moves from the American Southwest to NYC and meets myriad challenges as a sex worker. I’ve been obsessed with the movie for a few years now and the book made me appreciate it anew; I think it’s rare for an adaptation to take the risk of being so different from its source material while still capturing its spirit. The movie doesn’t include quieter moments like the full conversation with Towny or time spent in the X-flat, nor does it attempt to touch Joe’s internal monologue or his and Rico’s extensive backstories, but these things are essential to the book and are some of the best and most affecting writing I’ve ever read. Finally! The Great American Novel!

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones I would firmly like to say that this is probably the best horror novel ever written. The setup is very traditional in that it’s about a group of friends facing supernatural comeuppance for a past mistake, but delivery on that premise is anything but familiar. A story about personal and cultural trauma that raises questions about what we owe to each other and what it means to be Blackfeet, with a cast that’s unbelievably real and sympathetic even at their absolute worst. Creepypasta writers trying to cash in on the cultural mythos of lumped-together tribes wish they were capable of writing something a tenth as gruesome and good as this. It could very well be a movie the visuals and writing style were so arresting, and I can’t wait to read whatever Jones writes next.

Found Footage Horror Films: Fear and the Appearance of Reality by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas This is the least accessible title on the list since it’s a college textbook for people with background in film, but it was so nice to read a woman unpacking film theory with the expertise and confidence it deserves that I have to rank it among the best. I had an absolute blast reading it and am going to have to stop myself from bringing up the horror of 1960s safety films as a cocktail icebreaker.

Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and Its Legacy by Heather Ann Thompson

The year’s toughest read by far, but also its most rewarding. Thompson uses mountains of documents, government-buried intel, and personal interviews to explain what happened at Attica from beginning to end, and does a fantastic job of balancing hard facts and ‘unbiased journalism’ with much-needed emotion and critical analysis. It’s more important reading in the 2020s than any kind of ‘why/how to not be racist’ book club book is going to be, and the historical context it provides is as interesting as it is invaluable. The second half drags a bit in going through lengthy trial processes with some assumed baseline knowledge of legalese (which I did not have. All that criminal minds in 2015… meaningless), but aside from that editing and prose are some of the best I’ve seen in nonfiction.

The Bad

The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn A friend and I decided to read this together because I’m obsessed with how insane the author is and wanted to know if he can actually write.

He cannot.

The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All by Laird Barron Barron is an indie darling of the horror fiction scene, so I was excited to finally read one of his collections but can now attest that I hate him. If you’re going to do Lovecraft please deconstruct Lovecraft in an interesting way. I had actually written a lot about the issues I have with how he develops characters and plots, but one of the only shorthand notes I took was “he won’t stop saying ‘bole’ instead of tree trunk” and I feel like that’s the only review we need.

Bats of the Republic by Zach Dodson Look up a photo of this author because if I had bothered to glance at the jacket bio I honest-to-god wouldn’t have even tried reading this.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone I went in with high expectations since this is an epistolary novella I’d seen praised on tumblr and youtube but oh my god was there a reason I was seeing it praised on tumblr and youtube. This is bad Steven Universe fanfiction. Both authors included ‘listening to the Steven Universe soundtrack throughout’ in the acknowledgements, and to add insult to injury there’s a plug from my nemesis Madeline Miller.

The 7½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton The premise of this one plays with so many tropes I like that I should have been more suspicious. It’s a dinner party with stock characters one would expect of Clue, and rather than our protagonist being the detective he’s a man with amnesia stuck in a 24-hour time loop. Body-hopping between guests, he must gather evidence using the skillsets of each ‘host’ until he either solves Evelyn Hardcastle’s murder or the limit of eight hosts runs out. I read a lot of not-very-good books, and it’s so, so much worse when they have potential to be fun. This is how you lose the most points, and how I abandon decorum and end up writing a list of grievances: • Our protagonist can only inhabit male hosts, which I think is a stupid writing decision not because I’m ‘woke’ but because wouldn’t it make sense for him to also be working with the maids, cooks, and women close to the murder victim? • Complaining about the limitations of hosts makes some sense (e.g- there’s a section where he thinks that it’s hard to be an old man because it’s difficult to get to the places he needs to be quickly), but one of his hosts is a rapist and one of his hosts is fat. Guess which one gets complained about more. • One of the later hosts is just straight-up a cop with cop knowledge that singlehandedly solves the case. We spend some time being like ‘wow I couldn’t have done it without the info all eight hosts helped gather’ but it was 100% the detective and he solves the murder using information he got off-screen. • The mystery itself is actually well-paced and I didn’t have a lot of issues with it (e.g, there’s a twist that I guessed only shortly before the end), which makes it all the worse that the metanarrative of this book is INSANE. No spoilers but the reveal as to why our unnamed protagonist is even in this situation is stupid. I just know they’re going to make it into a movie and I’m preemptively going to aaaaaaaaa!!!

Trust Exercise by Susan Choi The fact that this was the worst book I read all year, worse even than the bad Steven Universe fanfiction, and it won multiple awards makes my blood boil. I could rant about it for hours but just know that it’s a former theater kid’s take on perception and memory, and deals with sexual abuse in a way that’s handled both very badly and with a level of fake deepness that’s laughable. Select fake-deep quotes I copied down because at one point I said ‘oh barf’ aloud: -I’m filled with melancholy that’s almost compassion. It’s sad the same way. -[On a friendship ending] We almost never know what we know until after we know it. -Because we’re none of us alone in this world. We injure each other.

There are also bad sex scenes that I can’t quite make fun of because I think (HOPE?) they’re supposed to be a melodramatic take on how teenagers view sex, but I very much wanted to die. Flowers were alluded to. Nipples were compared to diamonds.

Honorable/Dishonorable Mentions (categorized as the same thing because, well,)

The Life and Death of Sophie Stark by Anna North This book was frustrating because the first third of it is fantastic. It’s set up to be a takedown of the manic pixie dream girl trope, jumping from person to person discussing their relationship with the titular Sophie, and indirectly revealing that she was just some girl and not the difficult and mysterious genius they all believed her to be. Then in the third act, BAM! She was that difficult and mysterious genius and she’s now indirectly brought all the people from her past together. I wanted to scream the plot beefed it so bad, but the good news is I really liked this octopus description.

It was the size of a three-year-old child, and it seemed awful to me that something could be so far from human and obviously want something as badly as it wanted to get out of the tank.

Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women by Kate Moore Cool new nightmare speedrun strat is to hear a 2-second anecdote from a documentary that people used to get radium poisoning from painting watch faces, be curious enough that you buy a book to learn more, and be met with medical and legal horror beyond anything you could have imagined. This was almost one of my favorite books of the year! Almost.

Radium Girls is very lovingly crafted and incredibly well-researched; one of those things that’s hard to get through but that you want to read sections of again as soon as you’ve finished. The umbrage I take with it is that it’s very Catholic. The author and many of her subjects are Irish and their religion is important to them, but it casts a martyr-y narrative over the whole thing that I found uncomfortable. Seventeen-year-old girls taking a factory job they didn’t know was dangerous are framed as brave, working-class heroes, but there’s not a set moral lesson to be gained from this story. Sarah Maillefer didn’t make “a sacrifice” when she agreed to the first radium tests, she agreed because she was terrified. She didn’t think she was helping she was begging for help.

The Mushroom at the End of the World: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins by Anna Tsing Tsing is an incredibly skilled researcher and ethnographer; there are so many good ideas in this book that I’d almost consider it essential leftist text… if I could stand the way it was structured. Tsing posits that because nature is built on precariousness she will build her book the same way, allowing it to grow like a mushroom, and thus chapters don’t progress linearly and are written more like freeform poetry than a series of academic arguments. Some people are really going to love that, but I’m me and a mushroom is a mushroom and a book is a book. I don’t think in the way Tsing does, and while I tried to keep an open mind it’s hard to play along when something is this academically dense and makes so many ambitious claims. As if to prove how different our structuring methods are, I’ve made my own thoughts into a pros and cons list

Things I liked: • ‘Contamination’ as something inherent to diversity • ‘Scalability’ as a flawed way of thinking (Tsing has written whole essays about this that I find very compelling, but a main example here is that China and the US have come down on Japanese matsutake research for being too ‘site specific’ and not yielding enough empirical data) • Discussing how Americans were so invested in self-regulating systems in the 1950s we thought they could be applied to literally everything, including ecosystems • “The survivors of war remind us of the bodies they climbed over- or shot- to get to us. We don’t know whether to love or hate the survivors. Simple moral judgements don’t come to hand.” • Any and all fieldwork Tsing shares is amazing; I especially liked reading about the culture of mushroom pickers living in the Cascades and their contained market system

Things I didn’t like: • Statements that sound deep but aren’t, e.g- “help is always in the service of another.” (Yep. That’s what that means. Unless an organism is doing something to help itself which then nullifies your whole opening argument.) • A very debatable definition of utilitarianism • “Capitalism vs pre-capitalism,” which seems like an insanely black-and-white stance for a book all about finding hidden middle ground • A chapter I found really interesting about how intertwined Japanese and American economies are, but it tries to cover the entire history of US-Japan relations. Seriously, starting with Governor Perry and continuing through present day, this could have been a whole different book and it’s a good example of what I mean when I say arguments feel too scattered (the conclusion it reaches is that in the 80s the yen was finally able to hold its own against the dollar. Just explain that part.) • A chapter arguing that ‘true biological mutualism’ is rarely a focus of STEM and is a new sociological development/way of thinking which is just… flat-out not true

For all the comparisons art gets to ‘being on a drug trip’ this anthropology textbook has come the closest for me. Moments of profound human wisdom, intercut with things I had trouble understanding because I wasn’t on the same wavelength, intercut with even more things that felt false or irrelevant. I can’t put it on the nice list but I am glad I read it.

#2020 #books #long post #(in case the read more isn't working)

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capaldifiction · 4 years

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Our Chaotic Life (Part 2) - Lewis Capaldi x Reader

Well I told myself this series would be individuals scenes per part and I’d keep them relatively short. Yeah I already broke that on part 2. If you’ve read my other stuff you’ve probably noticed I tend to write long fics so hopefully this was just expected lol Hope you all enjoy part 2!

Paring: Lewis Capaldi x Comedian Reader

Word Count: 2,938

Description: Based on the request: “Lewis and the reader are kinda like a power couple of sorts? Idk it sounds cheesy but maybe she’s like a comedian or something and they are kinda infamous for their TikToks and Instagram Lives and stuff of that sort? Maybe it’s just a compilation of them just being effin adorable?“

In this part Lewis and Y/N go on a date.

Warnings: Some swearing (this is just going to be on every fic tbh)

PART 1

Y/N looks herself over in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. Everything she put on she hated.

After meeting at the venue, her and Lewis had their first ‘date’ that night after their gigs. The audience had liked both their sets, and they’d gone out for drinks to celebrate. Since then they’d managed to find time for two more dates during the day.

What she wasn’t prepared for was how much she liked him increasing after each date. What had started as a joke, seemed like it was turning into something else. But they’d only had drinks and two lunch dates so far. When he’d called to ask her on another, and she suggested meeting up later for dinner instead, she hadn’t fully thought that through.

Staring at her open wardrobe in front of her, she sighed. The drinks were just that, drinks after a gig. She wore what she’d been wearing all day. And the lunch dates she’d figured were casual, they were just meeting up for lunch and it wasn’t that serious yet. Still just joking about marriage.

But something about getting dinner together, after three dates she genuinely enjoyed, felt like she had to put more effort into how she looked. But how much effort? He didn’t seem the type to dress up too much, but what if he did and she under-dressed? Or she went for it and he showed up in a t-shirt and jeans?

Swearing at the clothes in front of her she finally grabbed something off the hanger and convinced herself it was good enough. As she ran her brush through her hair, she practiced a few lines for her next set in the mirror in attempt to calm herself down.

So far everything with Lewis had been light. Everything was joking around and having a good time, getting to know one another while slagging each other off. Somewhere in there she realized how much she was actually enjoying being around him. And part of her wanted it to be deeper.

Her door bell rings, pulling her from her thoughts as she grabs her things and heads toward the door. Swinging it open reveals Lewis standing on her doorstep with flowers in hand.

“I, thought maybe you'd like flowers?” he asks hesitantly offering them toward her. “If not I’ll chuck them in the bush and we can pretend this part never happened.”

“How uncharacteristically sweet of you,” she teases but accepts them from him. “Come on in, I’ll find something to put them in.”

Following her into her apartment, he looks around the room as she rummages through a drawer in the kitchen. “Nice place,” he comments as he looks at pictures hanging on the wall.

“Thanks,” she shouts back, finally finding something suitable and filling it with water. “Where’d you want to go to eat?”

“Uh, I heard about an Italian place nearby maybe?” he offers as he goes to stand in the entryway of her kitchen.

“Works for me,” she answers, finally setting the vase of flowers on her window sill.

As she turns back toward him, Lewis clears his throat, “You look, really nice by the way.”

Stepping closer to him, she reaches up to lightly squeeze one of his blushing cheeks, “You look pretty handsome yourself, I thought you only owned hoodies.”

“Thought I’d make an effort to look a bit nicer for you tonight,” he teases back as they head out the door toward his car.

The dinner went well, though the wine might have helped calm her down a bit. Being around him was comfortable. He had that ease about him. At some point during the dinner she’d suggested seeing a movie, and that’s how they ended up at some action movie she wasn’t sure either of them were really all that into.

Admittedly she spent more time during the movie overthinking about what him holding her hand meant, than actually paying attention to the plot line.

Heading out to the parking lot they joked about the movie lightheartedly before growing silent as they reached his car. Neither seemingly ready to head back home.

“There’s this place not too far we could go hang out,” she suggests.

“Sure that works for me,” he nods and they get into the car, “So where is this place?”

“Ok this is going to sound sketchy, but just trust me,” she clarifies as she puts the location on the GPS in his phone. “It’s just a field past some wooded areas I used to go hang out at as a teenager.”

“Is that where you’re going to harvest my organs?” he asked with a raised eyebrow as he glances at the GPS.

“If that was the plan I’d not have gone on this many dates with you Lewis, too many witnesses and too much work,” she jokes.

“That wasn’t a no,” he responds as he follows the directions to the location.

“You’re supposed to be my betrothed, and you don’t trust me?” She says in a mock sad voice.

Somehow between the movie theater parking lot and their destination, she found her hand resting on his leg. Neither seemingly wanting to move it, she contented herself with rubbing small circles on his thigh as he drove and they chatted about nothing in particular.

She’d found a pair of discarded sunglasses and put them on at some point, ignoring the fact it was far too dark to see efficiently with them.

“We make sacrifices for the sake of good sunglasses,” he joked nodding approvingly at her choice. “Fuck the sun, look class all the time.”

As they finally reached the place, she shifted the sunglasses up to her forehead and directed him to parked in the center of the field, “Want to get out and stargaze?”

He shrugs, “Sure, I’ll get some music playing.”

Y/N gets out of the car, leaving the sunglasses on the dash, and walks to the front of his car and crawls up on the hood. Behind her Lewis rolls the windows down, and gets out closing the door before reaching through the window to select a radio station and turn the car off.

“Oh, none of your music to play?” she questions as he crawls up on the hood next to her.

“Unfortunately, I don't have my own radio station or record at this point darling,” he responds lightly flicking her forehead.

“Yet,” she comments, laying back to look at the sky.

“Oh?” he comments, laying back beside her. “You believe in me huh?”

“I don’t marry losers Lewis,” she says with a wink toward him, a smile spreading across his face. “Seriously though, you’ve got a great voice, you keep pushing and you’ll make it.”

“Glad you think so,” he replies before they go silent.

After a few minutes of looking up at the stars in the sky, they start telling each other various stories from their childhoods and teen years. At some point she’d found herself flush up against his body, with his arm around her as her head rested on his shoulder.

“How’d you get into comedy?” he asked as he pushed some loose hair from her face.

“When you’re a sarcastic smart-ass you either need to learn to suppress it or harness it,” she says with a grin. “I chose the later.”

“This sounds like a ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ moment,” he chuckles.

“Nah fuck that, it’s a super villain story,” she adds. “But nah.. that’s true, but I just found I liked making people laugh. I can’t say I just discovered a talent and wanted to run with it. I just enjoyed the laughs and smiles on faces. When I was young I just liked the attention, the older I got, I liked being able to just say something that could bring someone’s spirits up. And comedy seemed like something that used what I’m good at, to bring some happiness to peoples lives even if it was just for a half hour set. Sometimes we all just need a moment to forget about all the shit going on in our lives and just laugh. Not much of an origin story, class clown realized she liked making people happy.”

“I think that was the most sincere thing I’ve heard you say since I’ve met you,” he murmurs, holding her closer to his body. “I feel the same way. I love music, and it’s the only thing I could see myself doing because it’s how I enjoy spending my time. But my favorite part is when people tell me after a show how much something I wrote helped them, or just made them happy. People just coming out to listen to me. There’s something fantastic in doing what you love and getting to make a few people happy along the way.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Y/N lifts their joined hands to motion vaguely at the sky, “Just noticed Orion is right there.”

“You ever do this sort of thing before?” he asks as he tears his gaze from the sky to look toward her.

“Are you asking if I’ve ever looked at the stars before or if I’ve brought someone else here before?” she says in a teasing tone. “Jealousy I detect?”

“Maybe,” he chuckles. “I suppose both to answer your question.”

“I’ve always come out here alone,” she admits looking toward his face. “At night to just relax, and during the day sometimes to write. It’s removed enough from everything to just be alone to the world, but close enough that as a teen I could be back before anyone noticed I was gone.”

“Who’d have imagined, you’d be a cheeky one like that.”

“I’m certain I’m not alone on it.”

“In sneaking out to look at the stars yes, in sneaking out being places you shouldn’t be at 2 AM, no.”

“Look at this bad boy we have here,” she laughs.

“The absolute worst,” he replies, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her better. “I.. I’ve been really enjoying our time together.”

“Me too,” she says softly, her eyes locked onto his before flickering down his lips and back up.

Leaning down, he captures her lips in a kiss as she releases his hand to tangle her fingers in his long hair. Pulling him closer, within seconds he’s over top of her as their lips move urgently.

Pelvis to pelvis, with both her hands in his hair, and both his on either side of her head, they finally break apart to take a breath, a laugh passing between the two of them.

Her eyes flicker away from his for a moment, “Shooting star,” she whispers quietly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

His head turns to look up at the sky, the light from the stars reflecting off the blue of his eyes as she finds herself unable to look away from him. “You make a wish?” he asks as he looks back down to her.

“Maybe I did,” she says softly before pulling him back down by his shoulders so his forehead is pressed to hers, his hair making a curtain around their faces. “What about you?”

“I’m pretty happy with the present moment,” he admits before pressing his lips to hers once again.

“You going to get out to give me a proper goodbye?” she teases standing in front of the driver side door after their drive back to her place.

“Of course,” he answers, getting out to pull her into an embrace. She settles into him immediately before turning her face up toward his to receive a soft kiss.

“I could get used to this,” she murmurs against the fabric of his shirt, a happy laugh coming from him.

“Well you’re going to have to if you stick to your word,” he teases.

“How far’s your drive?” she asks as her arms squeeze him tighter, not wanting to let go just yet.

“Well,” he mutters, sounding unsure about answering. “It’s about an hour.”

“An hour!?” she exclaims, pulling back from him to look at the sheepish look on his face. “You’re shittin’ me right?”

“It’s alright, not that bad,” he shrugs.

“Why didn’t you tell me before? I wouldn’t have suggested the movie or the field, you could have gone home hours ago. It’s like…” she lets go of him to pull her phone out and look at the time. “Lewis it’s 1 AM.”

“We’d just been having lunch dates so it wasn’t a big deal,” he says. “Had plenty of time to get back. You wanted dinner tonight so I was fine with doing the drive late.”

“But we could have come back hours ago so you wouldn’t be this late,” she argues.

“I didn't want to go then,” he answers simply. “I wanted to watch the movie with you, I wanted to go out to the field. I don’t mind getting back late.”

“Lewis that’s stupid, you should have said something,” she huffs before looking toward her house. “Alright turn your car off and get your ass inside, you’re staying here tonight.”

“I- wait what?” he asks astonished. “Staying with you?”

“I’m not letting you drive an hour back home this late, I have a spare bedroom you can you take,” she answers heading toward the door.

“Oh, ok,” he replies still sounding surprised. Getting into his car quickly, he shuts it off then slams the door shut to head into her apartment.

After he makes it through the door, she locks it behind him and beckons him in toward the spare room. Flipping the light on she rummages through the closet to pull out a towel for him. “I don’t think I have anything that’ll be your size, but if you want to shower and at least wash your shirt or something the washer is in the closet in the hall.”

“I usually just sleep in my pants, rest of my clothes should be fine for tomorrow,” he replies, running his hand through his hair awkwardly.

“Bathroom is at the end of the hall on the left, my room on the right. You know where the kitchen is,” she rattles off as she heads back toward the door of the room. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Quickly shutting the bedroom door behind her, she rushes to her bedroom to get changed, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She knew if she’d stayed a second longer in there she’d have just had him get in her bed. And she wasn’t sure if they were there yet. Maybe they were. Maybe they weren’t. Being rejected wasn’t how she wanted to end what had been a good night.

After getting changed, she cracked her door open in case he needed her, and flipped her lights off before crawling into bed.

It was odd she realized. It wasn’t like this was the only time she’d ever brought a man here. But it was definitely the first that she’d made one spend the night in her spare bedroom. Though she’d known most of them longer than she’d known Lewis. Yet… could she say she had the same butterflies he had her feeling? Probably not.

Frustrated, she hugged her pillow to her chest and closed her eyes in an attempt to sleep.

After a few minutes, she hears the door to spare bedroom open, and footsteps coming down the hall. He reached the bathroom, obviously trying to be quiet, but knocked something over in the process as she hears a curse come from the room.

Laughing under her breath she opens her eyes to stare at the blank ceiling above her. After what felt like an eternity, which in reality was probably only five minutes, the bathroom door swings back open, spilling the light into the entrance of her bedroom.

“Lewis?” she calls out before she can stop herself, mentally cursing as she sees him hesitantly lean into the room.

“Everything ok?” he asks.

“No, get in here,” she hisses, sitting up to look at him.

“Wait what?” he hesitates, most of his body still behind the door.

She sighs and runs her hands over her face, “I want you to come sleep in my bed with me Lewis, if that’s not something you want, you can just go back to the other bedroom and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I, uh, I don’t mind,” he answers letting go of the door. “But I’m already in my pants, if that’s a problem.”

“Nah, just don’t try anything, I’m tired,” she jokes as she slides back under the sheets.

Stepping into the room, he closes the door behind him before heading over to the other side of the bed and sliding in next to her.

Almost immediately she leans into his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. Laying her head against him she sighs happily as he chuckles.

“Just wanted a little cuddle huh?” he asks as he settles in.

“Mhm,” she hums back. “I’m not sick of you yet.”

“Are we… serious?” he asks gently as he rests his head on hers.

“I’d say betrothed is serious,” she jokes.

“Yeah I know, but that’s been a joke,” he insists. “I just… want to know if this is serious for you.”

“Is it serious for you?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s serious for me, you’re mine then,” she mumbles, feeling the sleep already starting to take over as she enjoys his warmth.

“I guess so,” he says lifting his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Sweet dreams hun.”

-----

PART 1

Masterlist

Request List

#lewis capaldi #lewis capaldi x reader #lewiscapaldi #lewis capaldi imagines #divinely uninspired to a hellish extent #our chaotic life #fanfiction #celebrity imagines #someone you loved

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kindofcashton · 4 years

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𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 • chapter 11 (Calum Hood AU)

THE NEXT MORNING was spent consoling Hannah. She hadn’t heard from Ashton since the big blow up, which left her distraught. Whenever they fought before, they always called or texted to let each other know everything was gonna be okay. But Ashton was radio silent, and so it was my job to make sure my teary-eyed, emotionally wrecked best friend would be okay.

“Michael didn’t even look at me before he left,” she sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes and pouting. I winced; this fight had been huge, and spilled over into everyone else in the house. I could tell Michael was feeling a little betrayed himself, and Luke probably shared similar thoughts. Calum, of course, I had no idea about. I only hoped they all wouldn’t hold a grudge against Hannah and make things even harder for her.

“He’ll get over it, Han,” I promised her. “Trust me. Once this all blows over you’ll be stronger than ever.” She shook her head, eyes cloudy and filled with misery.

“I don’t know, Scarlett,” she said in a weak voice. “It’s really bad.” I bit my lip, unsure of what else to say. I didn’t want to lie and say it wasn’t bad, because lying would help no one. But I also didn’t believe this was the end of her relationship with Ashton. They could mend the broken bridges between them, if only he was willing to try. I think time was the only remedy needed, and once enough time passed things could start improving.

We were joined at that moment by Calum. I avoided his eyes, still wildly confused about how to feel after last night. He’d shown a deep understanding that he’d never displayed before, and it stunned me. I thought Calum of all people would relish the opportunity to expose and humiliate me, but instead he chose to respect my plea for distance. As he sat down next to me, I felt the heat of his body so close to mine and shifted uncomfortably.

But apparently he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable at all, because there was a relaxed smirk on his face. He nudged his box of frosted cereal towards me. “Here, have some since I know you’d just steal it later.” His tone was jovial, causing me to finally meet his gaze. It was light and innocent, making my brows raise in disbelief.

I took the box and gladly dug my hand in, enjoying the sickly sweet cereal as Hannah distractedly scrolled through her phone. Calum shuddered beside me.

“I don’t know how you eat it dry,” he told me, pouring milk into his bowl. I wrinkled my nose.

“Because soggy cereal is disgusting, that’s why.” My expression was coy as I took another handful, and he rolled his eyes. I liked the way we could play off each other and actually joke around, the usual tension missing for some reason. I figured last night probably had something to do with it, but if this was the new normal I was completely on board.

Hannah looked up from her phone. “Do you have work today?” she asked. “I was wondering if we could spend the day watching bad movies and eating unhealthy food.”

I pursed my lips. “Actually, yeah, in an hour. But later we can totally--”

“No, no.” She waved her hand, heaving a sigh and staring off into the distance. “Maybe a little solitude would be good for me. I’m way too codependent.”

I frowned. “Hannah--”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t true, Scarlett, we both know it is. I’m overly dependent on people and you’re obsessed with fixing them. We both have flaws.” I blushed a deep red as she exposed our relationship problems. I felt Calum’s hand still above his bowl as he listened, and I suppressed a grimace. He had definitely began figuring out just how much I liked to fix things, how I obsessed over little details until I thought it was perfect.

Hannah pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, shoulders sagging and face crestfallen. “I think I’m gonna wallow downstairs all day. You’re welcome to join in the fun, Calum.” He gave her a small smile as she trudged towards the basement door, and when she finally disappeared downstairs I let out a sigh.

Calum pushed the cereal around in his bowl, frowning thoughtfully. “You think she’s gonna be okay?” His question was sincere, and I could detect behind the words just how much he cared for her.

Rolling my lips into my mouth, I shrugged. “I hope so. She’s been through a lot of shit recently, and I’d hate to see Ashton abandon her over it.” I briefly panicked that I had gone too far, made it seem like Ashton was entirely in the wrong. But if Calum thought this, he didn’t show it. Instead he just nodded, finishing his cereal quietly.

I checked the clock on the wall. “I ought to get ready, I have a bus to catch.” I closed the cereal box and began to get up, but then Calum reached out his arm to stall me.

“Why don’t I drive you? I have nothing better to do, and you’re probably really tired of riding that dingy bus.”

My lips parted in surprise, but his expression was earnest. I blinked a few times, at a loss for words. He merely rolled his eyes and stood up beside me, leaning in close as he said, “What, I’m not allowed to be nice?” His breath was warm and I felt my body tense up at the proximity of his face. But then he pulled away with a smirk to put his bowl in the sink. I exhaled, fidgeting a little as I considered his offer.

“Fine,” I accepted. “But you better be picking me up, too.” I quirked my lips up challengingly, and he chuckled at the counter.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he replied. I smiled before turning to head upstairs, thoroughly confused but pleasantly surprised. I told myself it was only because I didn’t have to catch the bus, not because a certain curly-haired boy was finally being nice to me.

I got ready fast and joined Calum by the front door, following him out to his car. It was another beautiful day weather wise, and I sighed happily as we climbed into his mustang.

“You better not complain about my music,” he warned as he put an old-fashioned tape into the cassette player. The car was vintage and had all the old features, something I found charming and very much in character with the owner. Soft guitar sounds drifted out, and I vaguely recognized the band. I didn’t say a word as we drove off, enjoying the way the music seemed to match our peaceful mood.

I was almost disappointed when we arrived at the cafe, wishing I could keep driving for hundreds of miles with just Calum and his music and the comfortable quiet. But this was reality, and I thanked him quickly for the ride before heading in.

Mack had realized a few weeks ago how well Roger and I worked together, and decided to schedule us with the same shifts since we had similar availability. This meant seeing him every time I worked, something the two of us were definitely fine with.

“Did I see you climbing out of a cherry red sex mobile this morning?” he asked innocently, and I choked on the water I was sipping.

“If you mean Calum’s mustang, then yes,” I told him, rolling my eyes at his insinuation. “He offered me a ride, how could I have said no?”

Roger smiled evilly. “I know a perfect way you can thank him,” he said, batting his eyelashes. I flipped him off with a laugh, trying not to imagine all the possibilities he had in his head. They were surely all dirty and seductive, and thinking about Calum in a dirty and seductive way was not going to help me do my job.

It was a quicker shift today, ending in the early afternoon. When I had about a half hour left, I began wondering what Calum was up to all day. I always wondered this; he didn’t have a job, didn’t go to school. What did he do all day? Where did he go? Did he have other friends, a different life away from us? I could tell he was full of secrets, and my mind drifted to what they could all be when the front door opened.

“No way,” Roger whispered, causing me to snap out of my daydreaming. Speak of the devil.

“Hey, Scarlett,” Calum greeted when he walked up the counter. His smirk was cool and his eyes were hooded, and I bit my lip. “Thought I’d try some of this coffee your always screwing up.”

I scoffed, and Roger shook his head as he butted into our conversation. “Oh no, she hasn’t screwed up an order all day. I want to see how long it will last.”

“Hey!” I protested, smacking his arm. “I didn’t mess anything up yesterday, either.”

Roger narrowed his eyes. “Debatable. The amount of whipped cream you put on that poor man’s hot chocolate yesterday was almost criminal.”

I folded my arms at him. “You can never have too much whipped cream, Roger.” He just flipped me off and got back to cleaning the display case. Turning back to Calum, I flushed. Having him here was overwhelming; he’d stepped into a part of my life that was entirely my own, and I almost felt like he was invading my privacy.

“Do you know what you want? Should I recommend stuff?” I didn’t know why I felt so nervous all of a sudden, trying to tell myself it wasn’t because of the deep brown eyes studying me so intently.

“I like the sound of that whipped cream,” he started. “Why don’t you pile it on top of a mocha.” I nodded, punching in his order and accepting his cash with a small smile. He went to sit at a table by the window, and I forced myself not to stare as I focused on his drink.

I’d made a hundred mochas by now, but this one I really wanted to get right. I made sure to add the perfect amount of steamed milk, and tried way too hard to make the whipped cream swirl as even as possible. Roger watched me work, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“You sure this is the drink that’ll get you in his pants?” I almost threw the hot coffee on his face, fighting a smile at his stupid jokes. I approached the counter and called Calum’s name, presenting the mocha proudly.

“I hope this is satisfactory,” I said as he took the mug and raised it in a mock cheer. I was slightly disappointed when he sat back down without saying anything, but pushed this feeling aside as I finished my shift.

Calum was waiting for me when Roger and I emerged from the back room after clocking out. My smile was shy and I hooked my bag over my shoulder nervously. But Calum’s smirk was oddly comforting, and he held the door for me.

“I thought we’d make a quick pit-stop at the grocery store for more beer,” he informed me, and I knitted my brows together.

“Didn’t you just get beer yesterday?”

“It was only a six-pack,” he defended with a laugh. “And besides, the guys all needed one after the blow up.” I nodded, understanding him completely. If I were Michael or Luke, I’d want to drown my worries too.

Roger appeared behind my shoulder. “Am I invited on this little road trip?” My jaw dropped, but he cackled and gave me a good-natured shove. “Totally kidding, go have fun on your grocery store date.” I almost tripped him at saying the word date, terrified that it would rub Calum the wrong way. But I don’t think he even heard, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we got back into his car.

“How was the beer I suggested yesterday?” he asked me, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his rolled down window. I admired the way the sun struck his profile, the relaxed posture he drove in.

Licking my lips, I answered, “It was actually really good, probably the best beer I’ve had. But I’m not that picky when it comes to beer, though.”

He smirked. “What are you picky about?”

Smiling at his oddly personal question, I considered my answer. “Well, cereal, as you already know. I refuse to ever have it with milk. Other than that...not much, I guess. I’m fine with most things.”

Calum thought about this for a second, a distant smile on his lips. “So you’re just so easy-going and carefree, huh?”

I laughed, propping my feet up on the dashboard to reiterate this point. “Oh, totally.”

We arrived at the store and immediately went for the beer. Calum pointed out a few good brands, and I pretended to take meticulous notes on his suggestions. He picked out a case of the kind I bought yesterday, and we brought it back to the car.

He paused after stashing the bag in the backseat. His expression was clouded, and more protective than it had been all day. Clearly his walls were back up, but I didn’t know why. When he finally spoke, my question was answered, “Want to take this somewhere and crack it open? I don’t know, the park or something?” He was scared to ask me this, worried I’d say no. Fear of rejection, I thought. Interesting, considering all of his arrogant bravado.

I nodded eagerly, hoping to ease some of his nerves. “That sounds great. And it’ll give Hannah more alone time I think she really needs.”

The park wasn’t crowded at all, and we found a nice spot up on a hill a little ways. The shade of a tree provided us relief from the late afternoon sun, and at our vantage point we could watch the people roaming around below. I laid on the grass, propped up by an elbow as I watched Calum crack open the beers. As he handed me one we clinked the cans together in a toast, and when I took a sip I felt all of the past few days’ stress leak right out of me. The breeze, the sun, the fresh air; it was all so cleansing, and I couldn’t harbor any negativity in such a serene place.

Laying next to Calum, I inspected his face, unafraid of him catching me staring. I took in his full lips, thinking about all the different expressions they produced. His curly hair fell across his forehead, and I imagined what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. His eyes were definitely my favorite feature of his; rich brown in color, reflecting light in the dark depths. If I could, I would gaze into them all day, just to uncover whatever secrets they protected. Calum was an enigma I was itching to solve, and every day I felt a little bit closer to the truth.

Just as I thought, he caught me staring. But I didn’t look away, bravely holding his gaze as he confronted me with a look. A brief smirk crossed his face, before he took a swig of beer and sighed.

“What are you trying to find, Scarlett?” The question was innocent, but it set off butterflies in my chest. I liked the way he said my name, almost like it was music on his tongue. Blushing, I finally did look away and focused instead on the people in the park.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I responded. “Just trying to figure out all your little secrets, that’s all.” Something about the atmosphere had me feeling daring, and I hoped he felt the same way.

He laughed. “You don’t think I’m doing the same thing?” We met each other’s eyes for a second, and then he added, “Alright, fine. You tell me something and I’ll tell you something.”

“How democratic of you,” I joked, and he laid back on his elbows. I thought about what to tell him, sifting through the multitude of secrets in my arsenal. Deciding to take advantage of what little bravery I had right now, I said, “Okay, I’ll tell you something.” He shifted his position to face me better, and suddenly I felt nervous. But I pushed this away, determined to be honest, no matter how much his eyes burned into me.

“You’ve known something is up about me being home from school for a while now, and you’re right. I’m not on a break: I had to drop out.” I paused for a second to let him soak this in. His smirk faded to a frown, but I pushed on. “And the reason I had to drop out was because I was stone-cold broke. I couldn’t pay the tuition, so I had to leave. And the reason I’m broke is...” I trailed off, wondering if this was taking it too far. But I wanted Calum to know this. I didn’t know why I felt this way, why I trusted him all of a sudden. But I needed him to know what happened to me. “My parents both died recently, in a car crash. Everything went to the medical bills to try to keep them alive, but it didn’t work. And now I’m here, alone, broke, and...” I laughed morosely. “And with no idea what I’m doing.”

Calum’s face fell, his eyes filling with sympathy as he opened his mouth to say something. “Scarlett, I--”

I waved him off. “I don’t want any pity. That’s why I kept it to myself, because I didn’t want to be the poor sad girl with dead parents.” Already I felt Calum’s view of me shifting, and I only hoped he wasn’t seeing a weak, pitiable basket case in front of him.

He sighed, brows low on his eyes as he seemed to be waiting for me to look at him. When I finally did, he tilted his head. “Pity and support aren’t the same thing, you know. Everyone needs help when they go through something hard, it doesn’t mean people see you as weak or pathetic.”

My mouth felt dry as his words soaked in. I’d never looked at it this way before, and his fresh perspective actually made me feel better. I guess I hadn’t really let anyone just be there for me, I pushed everyone away. Smiling meekly, I said, “Now where were you two months ago when I needed to hear that?”

He chuckled. eyes dancing with amusement. I liked that even though we were talking about such a heavy topic, we kept it light. For someone I’d always thought was so brooding, Calum had a gentler side that was exactly what I needed in this moment.

I lightly pushed at his arm, leaning on my hand as I faced him. “Alright, since I just poured out my soul it’s your turn.” The anticipation of finding out one of his secrets was killing me, and I bit my lip to contain my enthusiasm.

Calum rested the back of his head on his hands so he was gazing up at the cloudy sky. His lips parted, and I held my breath.

“You’ve probably noticed the lack of shit going on in my life,” he started, and I nodded with a small smile. I was pleased that this was what he was going to talk about; it was what I was most curious about. “The reason I’m able to live this way is because of the checks my mother sends every month. She feels guilty for screwing up my childhood or something, I don’t know. The money is good so I don’t complain.”

This was a lot of information to process. I’d had a hunch for a while that Calum’s life was more complex than he let on. It was interesting to hear about his mother and their apparent estrangement. My fingers toyed with a few blades of grass as I waited for more of an explanation.

“I haven’t actually talked to her in months,” he admitted, sounding a little surprised himself at the confession. “Not that I don’t...care about her.” I noted the way he stumbled, avoiding the word love. “I do, I want her to be happy. I just don’t think me being around is good for either of us.”

Even though I had an entirely different view of my parents, this made sense to me. Sometimes distance is the best thing for a relationship. I was always close with my mother and father, but that was because they’d supported me my whole life. I had no idea what Calum went through with is mom, or how they ended up so estranged.

I hadn’t realized he was looking at me, expectant for a response, and I blushed. “Sorry, I just...it’s nice that you’ve found what works for both of you. So many people try way too hard and just end up hurting each other.”

He smiled, brows lifting. “Gotta say I’m surprised. With all of your psychology books and deep analysis I thought you’d try to tell me to reach out.”

Shrugging, I let a smirk twist across my lips. “I’m full of surprises,” I replied jokingly. Truthfully, I did think that Calum reaching out would be a good idea. Maybe not right now, but in the future when he was more mature and ready to confront his mother he should definitely do it. He deserved to have a mother, someone who loved him unconditionally. I wanted him to have a family.

When I glanced back over to him, I gasped lightly. The way he was looking at me took my breath away; it was as if his brown eyes had pulled back all of my defenses and were staring straight into my soul, my thoughts, my body. A gravitational pull was tugging at my chest, and for a second I contemplated closing the short distance between us and connecting our bodies. I was sure he could hear my thunderous heartbeat, and I wanted to reach out and feel his own.

His eyes flitted to my lips for a brief moment, and then he whispered, “We should go.” He rolled over onto his back and sat up, ending the moment just like that.

We were silent on the drive home, but it was a comfortable quiet I found myself sinking into. The image of Calum’s face, so close and illuminated by the setting sun, was burned in my eyes as I stared at the road in front of me. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to be the one to make a move, to reach over and do what we’ve both been yearning for. But I also knew how much it would complicate things, and in a moment that was so blissfully simple, I didn’t want to ruin it.

I thought once we got home we’d both part ways and say nothing. But as Calum parked in the driveway, switching off the engine and engulfing us in total silence, I held my breath. He was going to say something, that much I knew. But about what I couldn’t possibly comprehend.

The interior roof lights cast a thin veil of yellow on his features, and in the small car it felt impossibly tight. I twisted in the seat, lips pressed together as I waited in suspense. Calum pushed a hand through his hair, letting the curls bounce above his forehead as he rested his arm on the headrest behind me.

He licked his lips, watching me closely. “Remember when you said I knew nothing about you?”

I blinked, remembering the night clearly. I’d hurled the words at Calum in the hopes he’d back off, leave me alone. Instead he seemed to want to get closer, and now here we were together in his car after spending the whole afternoon together. “Yes,” I said plainly. “I remember.”

He looked away, out into the dark distance beyond the window. “Well, you were right,” he declared, suddenly turning back to face me. “I don’t have a clue who you are. But the thing is...I want to find out.”

All of the oxygen had seeped out of the car. Blood was rushing in my ears, my fingers tingled with nerves. I felt like I was tilting in the seat, like gravity had flipped and suddenly I was fighting not to float away. A million thoughts spun through my mind, none of them making sense. Only one stuck out: I need to get out of this car.

And so I did. I stuttered something incoherent and slammed the door behind me, practically running to the door then up the stairs to my room. I tore my jacket off, then my shirt and jeans. I felt suffocated by the constricting clothes, and pulled on soft shorts and a big tee shirt. I began pacing across my floor, wondering if I’d just made a huge mistake. Calum had said something I’d been itching to hear for weeks, without even realizing it myself. But I couldn’t wrap my head around how we got here. We fundamentally disliked each other, but somehow we’d poured our hearts out today and crossed into new territory. I liked the territory, but I was terrified of it blowing up. All it took was one wrong move for Calum and I to disintegrate, and I was scared of crumbling because of him.

I flopped onto the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. The stairs creaked in the hallway, and I felt the door to Calum’s room next door shut. Having him so close but so far was driving me crazy and not helping me get over my anxiety. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, only thinking of him. His eyes, his lips, his voice.

Before I knew what I was doing my body took over and brought me to my door. I twisted the door knob, expecting to walk into the pitch black hallway. Instead I opened it up and was faced by the exact person I couldn’t get off my mind.

I hadn’t even heard Calum come to my door. But here he was, clad in only a pair of black joggers. I could barely see his face but I could make out his eyes boring into mine

I don’t know who leaned in first, but within a millisecond our lips connected. My whole body reacted to his touch, lighting on fire with every skim of his fingers. My hands went to his neck, his face, his hair. I pulled him tightly against me, feeling his bare shoulders and running my fingers across his wide back.

His lips molded to mine like clay, his tongue teasing at my mouth as I breathed hard. Our foreheads bumped together, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as the kiss deepened even more. His hands ran along my sides, igniting the skin as he went. I felt his fingers hook under my shirt, sliding up my skin and causing a string of moans to fall from my mouth. The sounds only encouraged him, and I felt his thumbs brush my exposed breasts.

Our lips tore apart for a second, and I exhaled lightly. “Calum,” I murmured against his cheek, and he attached his mouth to my jaw. The sensation was overwhelming as he dragged his lips down my neck, finding a sensitive spot below my ear. I couldn’t control my heavy breathing, and my knees weakened as he sucked gently on my skin. I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck for support, melting into his body like butter.

He peppered kisses across my neck to my jaw to my face, kissing my cheeks before reconnecting with my lips. The kiss had slowed down, softening into a sweet caress that calmed my racing heartbeat. I traced my fingertips down his neck, resting finally on his bare chest as we disconnected once and for all. My forehead bumped against his collarbone, his larger height making him rest his chin on the top of my head.

His hands rubbed up and down my arms, and I pressed a feathery kiss to his chest before leaning back. I tangled my fingers into his, pulling him back into my room.

“Stay,” I whispered, and I heard him close the door behind him. I fell onto the bed, pulling him beside me so we laid face to face. He brought the covers up around us, encasing us in warmth. I was finally breathing evenly again, sleep beginning to pull me under. The last thing I felt before I went under was the feeling of his arm hooking around my waist and pulling me into him.

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margoshansons · 5 years

Text

Desperate Measures 3/?

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Summary: After helping a little girl get over her nightmares, Y/N gets caught in a nasty bout of acid fog with the one person she can’t stand.

Warnings: angst, nightmares, swearing, violence, gore, survivor’s guilt, depression.

Notes: This was a tough one to write, ngl. Based on 1x03 “Earth Kills”

When she slept she saw only nightmares. Visions of another life she must’ve had, despite her scientific background claiming it was all bullshit. There was no other way to describe it.

This last one had been particularly bad.

A woman burning at the Stake, claiming she could save hundreds of lives. It was the same voice that had plagued her dreams since she was five years old. The same voice that whispered too many people. The same voice that had driven her mother mad while she waited in her cell during the weeks leading to her floating.

She couldn’t fall back asleep.

That last nightmare had felt too real. As if she was the one burning up into the skies instead of the unknown woman she saw every night. Jasper’s moans drew her from her thoughts and she gathered her jacket, ready to help in any way possible. The dropship was too full of sleeping prisoners to work on Monty’s radio, so instead, she moved outside, sitting next to a grove of trees, watching the stars twinkle above her as she counted the constellations.

A twig snapped behind her, revealing the existence of the only twelve-year-old in camp.

“Hi” Y/N smiled softly, meeting the girl’s anxious gaze. “Charlotte right?”

She nodded. The older delinquent patted the patch of grass beside her. “Come on and join me.”

Charlotte sat next to the eighteen-year-old, scratching at her legs nervously as silence enveloped the two of them.

“I couldn’t sleep” Charlotte confessed after several minutes of silence, “So I went out on a walk, I didn’t--I didn’t realize I was outside the wall until it was too late. Please don’t tell Bellamy, please.”

Y/N stared at the younger girl, a wild smirk crossing her face as she leaned in close. “Your secret’s safe with me. Why can’t you sleep?”

“I uh, I have nightmares” Charlotte admitted, “My parents got floated and I--uh I just can’t sleep.”

Pain shot through Y/N’s heart. She had been younger than Charlotte when she lost her own mother, and those memories found a way into her dreams as well.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Y/N whispered, “But can I let you in on a little secret?”

Charlotte nodded, apprehension strewn across her face.

“I get nightmares too” She admitted, making Charlotte the third person to know about her terrors. “That’s why I’m out here tonight.”

Awe crossed the little girl’s face, “You get nightmares? But you’re so strong.”

Y/N laughed lightly at the compliment. “I’m not, I’m just good at getting over them.”

“How?”

She licked her lips, biting her cheek as she debated sharing her strategy with this little girl. Instead, she chose an easier route. “Easy, you find someone to talk to about them.”

“But…” Her face fell. “I don’t have anybody.”

Y/N brushed a strand of hair away from the girl’s forehead, “You have me, and Clarke, and Wells, and Octavia, and everyone in this camp on your side Charlotte. They all wanna help you.”

“Really?” Her bright blue eyes were still fearful as if she didn’t actually believe anything Y/N had been saying up to this point.

She nodded, and the two stayed there the rest of the night until Charlotte fell asleep in her arms. Y/N continued to stare up at the stars, wanting nothing more than a blissful sleep. But Jasper’s moans kept her awake, and Bellamy’s stare provided another distraction as he left the dropship that morning.

She wouldn’t deny that he was attractive, but that was where her admiration ended for him. To her, he was a nuisance, a problem getting in the way of her and Clarke from taking care of the rest of the camp. The sun began to peek over the trees, clouds joining the yellow orb, marking the second sunrise in a row she had seen on Earth.

It was gorgeous.

Marcus would appreciate this. He grew up on stories about the Earth, the same as she did. So why does it seem like they’ve lost hope? Her gaze hung on the last star glistening in the morning sky, sending a prayer up to the Ark, hoping her dad was listening.

Her eyes drifted closed, hoping the action would lull her back to sleep, curing the tiredness she felt.

“Hey,” Bellamy’s gruff voice interjected her sleeping time. “We’re going hunting.”

Y/N stretched, a yawn escaping her as she slowly removed her arm surrounding Charlotte. “Sure, what do you need?”

His smile looked out of place, “an extra weapon.” He tossed her a spear, the handle barely avoiding hitting the poor girl. She arched an eyebrow.

“You do know that I suck at combat right?” she double-checked, making sure she didn’t wake up in an alternate dimension where Bellamy Blake was actually being nice to her.

Instead, he laughed. Laughed. Yep, definitely alternate dimension.

“You handled yourself with the panther, I think you can handle a few rabbits and squirrels.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing herself off the ground with her hands. Bellamy turned to leave, Y/N sending one last look at the sleeping girl before joining him outside the wall.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked, creeping through the stalks of grass. “Being so nice to me?”

Bellamy paused before announcing his intentions, “Think of it as a thank you for saving my life kind of gift.”

Y/N smirked, hiding the chuckle behind her wall, which had become more glass than steel over the past few days.

“And as much as I hate to admit it” He began, gaze staring directly at her sunlit face, “You’re the smartest person in camp. We need your brain.”

She froze, throwing a playful look of victory at the older leader, “Was that a compliment I detected Bellamy Blake?”

“Shut up, I already want to take it back.” He threw back, their gaze meeting one more time before a scream launched them out of the moment. The two leaders looked at each other before running in the direction of the sound, boots stampeding against the ground.

Y/N tossed the spear downward when she saw who it was.

“Charlotte” She moved closer, raising her voice, “What are you doing here, we could’ve killed you!”

The girl trembled from the scolding. “I had--I had another nightmare, I woke up and you were gone so I went to find you and--”

Y/N pulled the girl close, hand running through the braids in her hair, soothing the girl until she was back to normal. “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here.” She broke away momentarily, tilting her chin down to meet the girl’s frightened gaze, “Did you wanna talk about it?”

Charlotte’s gaze shot around, eyeing Bellamy and Atom before softly shaking her head. Y/N understood, whispering, “Alright, maybe later then.”

“She needs to get back to camp” Strict Bellamy was back, a far cry from the easygoing leader she had spent the last few hours with. Unfortunately, Y/N had to agree.

“No please,” Charlotte begged, not wanting to let go of Y/N at all.

“It’s not safe out here Charlotte” Bellamy warned, a glimpse of his softer side showing through.

Atom chimed in patronizingly, “Especially for little girls.”

“I’m not little” she shot back, grasping onto Y/N’s hand for strength.

Bellamy bit his lip, a ghost of a smile on his lips. His gaze flickered between the two of them, before handing Charlotte his makeshift knife, grabbing the spear Y/N had dropped earlier.

“You ever killed something Charlotte?” He asked, eyes flashing with worry.

She shook her head.

“Who knows,” Bellamy began to joke, shrugging his shoulders, “You may be good at it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at his antics, encouraging a twelve-year-old to commit murder her first time on the ground. She brandished her knife, ready to continue on their trail until a bellowing sound tore them away from their goal.

“What was that?” Jones asked, fear crossing his face. Birds flew past them at light speed, almost as if they were running away. She could only stare behind her, a swirling cloud of yellow and orange smoke making its way toward them, insects crawling over her feet in a futile attempt to survive.

“Something’s wrong,” She whispered reverently, eyes widening as the fog grew closer, “Run! Run now!”

They wasted no time, crossing the plains as fast as their feet could carry them, Y/N dragging Charlotte behind her, refusing to let her grip up even for a moment. The fog grazed against her hand, a prickling sensation transitioning into excruciating burns.

Acid fog, she realized.

She sped up her pace, searching frantically for a place to take cover. At any time the fog could be upon them at any time they could be suffering from burns beyond their imagination.

She found refuge in a cave, Bellamy coming in close behind her, ready to jump out at the sound of Atom’s voice.

“Bellamy!” He moaned.

“Atom!” Bellamy called, ready to run into the fog at the sound of his friend’s cry.

Y/N caught his arm, pulling him back into the cave, “Bellamy no! There’s nothing we can do unless you want to die of chemical burns.”

His eyes were rimmed in red as they stared her down, turning his head back toward the acid covered forest where Atom lay dying.

His breathing grew shallow, sniffing until he nodded reluctantly, the three delinquents settling in for the night as they prepared to wait out the fog.

And then it suddenly dawned on her. She was stuck in a cave for god knows how long surrounded by killer fog on a planet that could kill them. And somehow that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was that she was stuck with Bellamy Blake.

“Y/N?” Charlotte’s voice echoed in the cave as night fell. “I’d like to talk about my nightmare now if that’s okay.”

She settled in against the rocks, sending a glance at Bellamy’s sleeping figure before moving closer so Charlotte didn’t have to worry about being judged. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”

The little girl inhaled before dropping what had been bothering her since day one. “I see--I see my parents dying.” Sobs threatened to escape, face contorting in pain, “And then I see his face, and--and he sends me down with them.”

Y/N pulled the girl closer, arms wrapping around her as Charlotte sobbed into her shoulder. “Hey, shhh, you’re gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.” She rubbed her hand up and down the poor girl’s shoulder, shutting her eyes. “I see my parents too.” She admitted, whispering the confession in her hair. She recalled Kane’s regretful face as he told Shumway to press the button. Didn’t even have the decency to do it himself.

“But it’ll all be over soon, I promise.” Charlotte nodded before floating to sleep in her arms, the girl stirring only during her dreams.

Y/N stood up, waiting to take watch. She couldn’t fall asleep. Not when that woman’s screams awaited her.

“You should get some rest” Bellamy’s rough voice murmured from the other side of the cave.

Flashes of her night terrors crossed her brain and she shook her head, “I’ll uh, I’ll rest when we get back to camp.”

“Sparky,” The nickname sounded unfamiliar in his mouth, “I can see the circles under your eyes, you’re practically asleep already.”

She shook her head, refusing to be that vulnerable with a man who had done nothing but torment her since she got to the ground. “You look just as bad as I do.” She shot back, eliciting a chuckle from the kid. “What do you know?” She whispered, a smile stretching across her face, “Looks like he has a heart after all.”

Bellamy met her gaze, half-smile across his face, brown eyes softening as the fog passed over them. “I always had a heart, I just don’t show it all the time.”

She nodded, recalling another phrase from her dreams, “Love is weakness. I guess that’s another thing we have in common.” She turned her gaze away toward the sleeping child, making sure Charlotte remained still.

Love was death. Attachment was death.

Bellamy wrapped his arms around his knees, “Oh yeah? What’s the other thing?” His tone was playful, her answer anything but.

She met his gaze, uttering the words she had been dying to say to him since he had insulted her their first night on the ground, “We’re both orphans, aren’t we?”

Silence met her words, relief flooding from her shoulders as her stomach untwisted itself.

Tension coated the cave, encircling the two in a bubble as Bellamy fidgeted under her gaze. It had felt so good to finally say it aloud. To finally tell him what had hurt all those nights ago.

“Y/N I had no idea--”

“That Kane wasn’t my biological father?” She continued to shove his mistake in his face, unsure why she was unloading all this onto him. “That I’ve been parentless since age five? Both of them floated? Yeah, why would you?”

She turned away, her malicious tone hanging in the air as she drifted off to sleep, the hard rock more comfortable than any tent she had slept in so far.

***

Bellamy shook the older girl awake, guilt wracking his body as he did it. If he had known. If he had reached out before making stupid assumptions--

No. She said it herself. Emotion is weakness. Love is weakness.

It was better this way.

This way they both survived.

“Franco,” He used her last name, a sick feeling entering his stomach at the idea of using her given name after the fiasco last night. “Franco wake up!”

She jolted upright, as if someone had pushed her through to the other side. Her breathing was small, shallow, and her chest heaved as her eyes flitted between Charlotte and Bellamy’s locked gazes, fear flashing by so fast he swore he imagined it.

“Come on, the fog’s cleared up.” was all he said, holding out his hand. She grasped it and he pulled her up, quickly disappearing behind the cave exit, meeting with Jones.

“Where’s Atom?”

“We thought he was with you.”

No. Atom had to have made it. He had to. Confusion spread throughout his chest, his head turning quickly as a scream passed through the air.

“Charlotte!” Y/N called, sprinting past him, racing toward the scream. The two men followed after her, Monroe trailing behind as they reached the clearing where Atom lay, pus boiling all over his skin, blood vessels popping as Bellamy knelt beside him, cradling his friend’s head in his arms.

Y/N knelt across from him, horror circulating in her gaze as she placed a hand against his chest, gently listening to the wheezes, a soft plea barely reaching their ears.

“Kill… me...please.”

***

Y/N stared in horror, grasping the handle of her makeshift knife. “Charlotte, go back to camp.” She ordered, hand shaking as she handed it over to Bellamy.

“No, I want to help”

“Charlotte.” Y/N’s tone turned stern, a warning, “Now.”

She heard the faint shuffling of footsteps behind her until the sound disappeared, loneliness surrounding the couple as the wind whistled faintly through the woods.

Bellamy shook above the deteriorating delinquent, Y/N’s knife held firmly in his hands.

He couldn’t do it.

Y/N placed her hand on his, covering his hand to steady it before gingerly taking the knife back.

“Okay, hey Atom” her tone grew sweet, plastering a fake smile on her face as she stared at the helpless kid, “I’m gonna help you okay?”

Atom’s head nodded slightly, the pain only allowing him to move so much. Her hand shook, vocal cords humming a long-forgotten song to ease the pain, the blade slicing through the layers of skin, causing Atom to bleed out, staining the greenery crimson.

She raised her eyes forward meeting the horrified stares of Clarke, Finn, and Wells, pretending to be unaware of the intense gaze Bellamy was sending her way.

“Get Clarke whatever she needs,’ Bellamy called to his troops as they returned to camp, gaze flickering toward Y/N. She sat against the dropship, eyes blank as she stared out emotionless.

She killed someone today.

She was a killer now.

Maybe she should’ve stayed on the Ark after all.

A familiar figure slid down next to her, Monty offering her a silver cup. “Miller told me what happened, thought you might want some of this.”

She flashed a tight smile before gulping down the wretched batch of moonshine, an empty numbness snaking its way through her body, “Thanks Monty, I needed that.”

She stared above at the sky, eyes trained on the bright orbiting station above them. “Did you know it was my birthday when we came down?” She spoke forwardly, catching the kid by surprise. “It was either death by earth or death by space. You can guess which one I chose.”

Monty pressed his hand on hers, the contact barely registered as she swigged the rest of her moonshine. “You made the right choice.”

“No, I didn’t” She spoke hauntedly, “I should’ve floated myself.”

That night against the dropship, alcohol rewiring her brain, Y/N drifted away, and for the first time in eighteen years, a new terror joined the rest.

Yikes. So Y/N suffers from this thing known as depression and survivor’s guilt. As we all know there is no easy fix, this will be a constant throughout the series. I’ll put it in the warnings as we go forward.

If this isn’t something you’re comfortable with I won’t be offended if you stop reading, I promise.

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keichanz · 4 years

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Another Day in Hell || Ch. 5

this chapter is for @noanieactuallydrawingalot. i still absolutely love that amazing art you drew for this story and i’m forever thankful and sooo glad you’re enjoying this story!!! <3

also wanna give a shoutout to my girl @cammysansstuff because she’s been reading and supporting this story since day one and it means the world to me. <3

Read on AO3

Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3 || Ch. 4 || Ch. 5

The following days were spent in a mixture of more random small talk, light banter – Inuyasha was quick to discover that Kagome was fucking feisty when riled up, and likewise Kagome learned the half-demon had a wit that nearly matched her own – and some light weapons maintenance training. Kagome sometimes went with Inuyasha when he had to leave for some reason or another, whether it be searching for supplies, killing some nuisance deadies (helpfully stabbing some that Inuyasha felled), or inspecting the store for any security breaches or evidence of any unknown presence. Most of the time, however, she stayed behind, letting her shoulder heal and doing her part to keep the space tidy.

Kagome was able to recognize the voices that came out of the radio whenever Inuyasha talked with one of his friends. Most of the time it was the ones called Slayer and Monk, though sometimes a voice that went by Cane came through. Those conversations were always interesting; it seemed that Inuyasha didn’t exactly get along with this Cane guy and they were constantly tossing insults at each other. Kagome suspected they were both purposely trying to piss the other off and while strange – and if she were being honest, somewhat childish – it was also highly amusing.

It was after a particular conversation between him and Monk in which they discussed a rogue and the issue of trusting them with a fawn (??) that Kagome had asked why had had given his real name when he met her and not his alias. Inuyasha had seemed surprised at first, but then he’d shrugged and simply said he’d needed to get her to trust him. Doubtful she would if he’d lied right off the bat and given her a false name.

She’d digested that in silence, though the smile on her face suggested she appreciated that he had, in fact, been true with her from the start.

It was getting easier to be alone now, for which she was grateful, and while she still felt some lingering anxiety whenever she paid too much attention to how long he’d been gone, it was easily manageable. To pass the time, she played cards with an old deck she’d found while sneakily nosing through the stuff Inuyasha had collected over the months. A lot of the time whenever he returned during one of her games, he’d sit down and join her and they’d have the rowdiest, loudest games of Bullshit ever.

It was tons of fun though despite it being just the two of them, and more often than not Kagome was left gasping for breath from laughing too hard.

It was the day before two of Inuyasha’s friends were supposed to show up to take over watching the store and Kagome was in the middle of a rather boring game of Solitaire when the radio crackled to life. So used to the silence of the basement during Inuyasha’s absences, she jumped in her seat with a startled gasp and snapped her gaze to stare at the device where it sat on the table in front of her.

“Ash, come in.”

She blinked. Slayer, she thought, recognizing the feminine voice. Kagome’s brow furrowed slightly; the woman had sounded slightly out of breath and a tad harried. Was everything okay?

“Ash, do you read?” Slayer’s voice came over again and Kagome detected a smidge of impatience.

She bit her lip and glanced at the ceiling door. Inuyasha had been gone for about forty-five minutes and was due back in another fifteen, however it was always unpredictable when his exact arrival would be.

“Dammit, Ash—” Slayer cut herself off with a grunt and Kagome’s frown deepened as she stared thoughtfully at the two-way. That hadn’t sounded very good at all...

“Come back or so help me god I’ll feed all your precious ramen to the stupid zombies!”

Kagome’s eyebrows rose at the rather...unique threat and her lips twitched. Over the past few days she had also learned of Inuyasha’s fervent love – or maybe obsession was a more accurate term – for the noodles and had he been around to hear it she was fairly certain that particular threat would get his ass in gear. The man liked his ramen.

A few more seconds ticked by and the device remained silent. Kagome watched it for another five seconds before shrugging and going back to her game, figuring Slayer must have realized Inuyasha wasn’t around. Putting the five of hearts on top of the six of spades, Kagome idly wondered what had happened and hoped that it was nothing bad—

“Answer me right now, you goddamn prick!”

The shriek coming from the tiny speaker startled Kagome so badly she nearly fell out of her chair and with a gasp, she didn’t think as she reached over and snatched up the radio.

“Uh, er, h-hello?” Kagome spoke into the mic, wincing at how uncertain she sounded.

She received no response and she bit her lip before continuing a little more bravely, “Um, Slayer, right? I’m sorry, Ash isn’t around right now, but I can pass along a message if you’d like?”

She released the switch and waited anxiously, hoping the woman wouldn’t be mad that she’d answered and not the half-demon. A few seconds later the two-way crackled to life and Slayer’s voice, much more composed, came through.

“Hi,” she said amiably and Kagome relaxed. “You must be that woman Ash has told us about. Uh, yeah, I’m Slayer.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that...usually he picks up right away so I thought he was deliberately ignoring me. He’s done it before, usually when he’s in a mood.”

Kagome could practically hear the other woman’s eyes rolling and she couldn’t stifle the snicker that bubbled up. “I’ve only known him for a few days, but I know exactly what you mean.”

“I think we’ll get along just fine,” Slayer replied and Kagome could hear the smile in her voice. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to go. I did have a reason for contacting him and it’s kinda urgent, so could you please tell him to contact me when he gets back?”

“Of course,” Kagome returned without hesitation, frown back in place. She wanted to ask if everything was okay, but knew it wasn’t her place yet so she refrained. “He should be back in about ten minutes or so. I’ll let him know right away.”

“Thank you,” Slayer said, relief evident in her voice, but there was also an edge to it that was more than a little concerning. “It was nice meeting you...sorta.” A soft laugh floated from the speaker and Kagome echoed it.

“Ditto,” she said and the radio fell silent once more.

Worrying her bottom lip again, Kagome set the two-way on the table and sighed, staring down at the cards on the table. She’d scattered them slightly when she’d been startled from the radio suddenly coming to life so she started gathering them into a pile and stacking them back to replace into the ripped cardboard box.

She had just decided to get in a little PT for her shoulder when the ceiling hatch flipped open and Inuyasha dropped inside with a grunt. His shirt was bloody, which meant he’d had to utilize the sword at his hip – Tessaiga, if she recalled correctly – and Kagome hoped whatever he’d had to cut down was already dead.

She tipped him a smile and sat down on the bed. “Hi.”

He flicked her a glance, grunted, and promptly shed his shirt, unceremoniously dropping it to the floor before digging around for a clean one.

Kagome’s face flamed and though she told herself to look away, her eyes took in his muscled back with unveiled appreciation, catching a glimpse of his chest as he straightened to pull a t-shirt over his head. Hastily she looked away and desperately hoped he hadn’t caught her checking him out. Good lord, but the man was ripped.

“Um, Slayer needs to talk to you,” Kagome said. “She sounded a little weird, so I answered her back on the radio. She said it was urgent.”

Inuyasha frowned and picked up the two-way. “Weird, how?”

Kagome shook her head. “Like she was out of breath and, I don’t know...agitated?”

Nodding, not really liking the sound of that, Inuyasha depressed the switch and spoke into the mic, “Ash to Slayer, come in.”

Her reply was immediate. “Took your sweet time,” she quipped.

He rolled his eyes. “What happened? You said it was urgent.”

Never one to beat around the bush, Sango cut right to the chase. “Monk’s hurt,” she said and even Kagome could pick up on the concern in her voice. “We ran into a group of people that threatened to kill us if we didn’t hand over our weapons and supplies and Monk got a cut in his arm that I think needs stitches.”

“So why don’t you—”

“We ran out last week, Ash,” she cut him off, sounding impatient. “Remember? Because Cane is a fucking idiot and used the last of it so he didn’t bleed out after that stupid stunt he pulled?”

Inuyasha cursed because yeah, he remembered. “Fucking wolf,” he muttered.

“Besides,” Slayer continued, voice soft. “You’re the only one I trust to do it right. It’s Monk, Ash.”

Inuyasha closed his eyes and sighed, thrusting a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he rumbled, grimacing. “I know. Alright, fine, but Thing One and Two are gonna hafta—”

“They’re already on their way,” she interrupted and the relieved gratitude in her voice was unmistakable. “Left about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Copy. See you soon.”

“Back atcha.”

Inuyasha stared thoughtfully down at the two-way radio for a moment before shaking his head and placing it back on the dock to charge. Ginta and Hakkaku, otherwise known as Thing One and Thing Two, were the biggest scatterbrains he knew and often forgot to put it back on the dock to charge at the end of the night. At least now it would have a halfway decent charge before they carted it around everywhere.

“Looks like you’ll be meeting everyone a day early,” he said as he turned back around, one hand on his hip while the other racked through his hair. When all Kagome did was toss him a distracted smile before adopting her look of pensive concern again, Inuyasha frowned and then crossed his arms.

“What is it?” he asked. He’d gotten to know the young woman pretty well in the past few days and he could tell something was bothering her now.

Her eyes flashed to his at the question and she worried her bottom lip. He cocked a brow, wondering what it could possibly be to make her this hesitant, then she sighed and really, he should have expected what came out of her mouth next.

“Those people,” Kagome began quietly, her gaze searching his, but for what he didn’t know, “that...Slayer was talking about, who wanted their weapons. Did...were they...killed?”

Kagome didn’t fail to notice the way Inuyasha visibly tensed, and when all he did was clench his jaw and harden his stare, she had her answer.

“So,” Kagome said some twenty minutes later and tilted her head, giving him a sidelong glance as her lips twitched. “Thing One and Two?”

From where he stood by the edge of the shop’s roof, keeping a lookout for a huge black truck and straining his ears for the sound of a diesel engine, Inuyasha glanced to his right and studied the profile of the woman that stood beside him. His gaze met hers for an instant before she looked away, back toward the deadened land that surrounded them and the even deader figures that wandered it. A few of them dotted the landscape here and there, but not enough to be a concern, so they more or less went ignored.

Inuyasha’s brows dipped into a slight frown. He knew it was still bothering her. She tried to hide it behind vague smiles and forced laughter, but he could see the strain around her eyes, the way she unconsciously worried her lip and seemed to lose herself in thought. He didn’t like that she was so obviously troubled by this, and several times now he had to stop himself from reassuring her or spewing out complete bullshit just to see a genuine smile on her face again.

Because the fact of the matter was, anything he could say wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference because this was something she had to work out by herself. He knew she didn’t relish the thought of killing someone in cold blood – hell, he was willing to bet his ramen stash she was the type of person who caught insects in her house and released them back outside – but unfortunately, that was the way of the world now. You had to kill in order to survive and she was just going to have to accept that on her own terms, no matter how harsh it sounded.

Inuyasha knew she would. Kagome was strong; maybe not in body, but definitely in will and heart, and he was confident she would come around in time. And until that time finally came around, Inuyasha would be there to protect her and offer his assistance whenever necessary.

“You’ll understand when you meet them,” he finally answered, lifting a brow. “Otherwise they’re known as Smokey and Bandit.”

Kagome actually did a double take at that and her mouth dropped slightly.

“Yeah,” Inuyasha muttered, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “I know. And yes, it was deliberate. I swear to God they’re joined at the hip. Not once in the entire time I’ve known them have I ever seen them apart. Also they’re bona fide idiots.”

“Don’t be rude.”

He shrugged, unapologetic. “You’ll see,” he said and the distant rumble of a diesel engine had him turning his gaze back to the road.

Not ten seconds later he spotted the familiar black dually weaving between the abandoned vehicles on the road, the twin silver stacks rising up on either side of the cab clearly visible. The truck was lifted and altogether a motherfucking powerhouse and Inuyasha loved the thing. His own vehicle had been stolen long ago when everything started but it wasn’t a huge loss; the sedan had been on its last legs anyway and he wasn’t sorry to see it go.

This monster, however, Inuyasha had pretty much claimed as his own, everybody knew it, and he’s not going to lie: he was going be fucking devastated if something happened to it. He considered it a bonus that it was a zombie killing machine and hell yeah it was fun mowing them down with the modified grill he’d fashioned himself. Reminiscent of a pilot that was usually found on trains, the heavy steel frame easily cleared anything in front of it and it was arguably the best idea he’d ever had.

While Inuyasha raised a hand and waved, gesturing for them to drive around back to the loading dock, Kagome came up beside him and gawked at the six-wheeled monstrosity.

Inuyasha caught the look on her face and grinned proudly.

“Beauty, ain’t she?” he boasted and watched as Hakkaku, in the passenger’s seat, threw him a thumbs up as Ginta turned the wheel to go around back.

“It’s huge,” Kagome mumbled, frowning. “Is it yours?”

“More or less,” he answered and gently took her elbow to guide her to the other side of the roof. “I found it shortly after my own car was stolen, cleaned it up, made it better, so as far as I’m considered it’s mine now. Doesn’t hurt that it’s a beast and a definite upgrade from what I had before.”

The two wolves were just backing up to the loading dock and hooking an arm around Kagome’s waist, Inuyasha murmured a word of warning before hopping down to the ground. Predictably the roar of the diesel truck had attracted a number of deadies and Inuyasha told her to stay put before unsheathing Tessaiga and getting to work.

And as always, Kagome watched in awe as the half-demon darted from zombie to zombie and she couldn’t help but think that he was truly a sight to behold as he swung that huge sword of his around. Bodies fell at an alarming rate and there wasn’t a hitch in his stride, zero hesitation as he cut down the undead with a practiced ease that was almost frightening.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t he?” a voice said to her right and Kagome managed to tear her gaze away from the half-demon to find one of the inhabitants of the truck standing beside her, his gray eyes friendly.

“Don’t tell anybody, but I’ve always thought Ash can give Cane a run for his money any day,” the wolf demon said with a mischievous grin and Kagome blinked in surprise.

“Don’t let either of them hear you say that, or you’ll never hear the end of it!” another voice piped up and Kagome shifted her gaze to find wolf demon number two standing in the bed of the truck. The first thing she noticed about him was his blonde mohawk tipped with red and she thought the look suited him.

The one beside her, a tad shorter than she was with hair the same shade as his eyes and streaked with black, snickered and offered her another wide grin.

“Nah, he’s too busy showing off to hear,” he chortled and Kagome had to smile. “And Iris was bitching out Cane again when we left so doubtful he’d even care if he knew.”

“His face was so red!” Mohawk crowed as he hoped down from the bed and landed beside Gray Eyes.

“But from anger or shame, it was hard to tell!”

While the two men laughed at the expense of Cane, Kagome stood there staring between the two of them with a bewildered look on her face, not sure exactly what to say and wondering if they even remembered she was standing there. She suddenly understood why Inuyasha called them Thing One and Two.

And as if on cue, said half-demon sauntered over and barked, “Would you idiots knock it off and introduce yourselves already? Fuck’s sake, how that wolfshit puts up with you two I have no idea,” he muttered as he bypassed them and entered the backdoor to open the bay in order to load the truck.

As one the two wolf demons looked at each other, blinked, then broke into wide grins before abruptly spinning around to face her so fast Kagome took an involuntary step back.

“Our apologies, miss!” they said simultaneously and Kagome could do nothing but stand there and gape as together they took the same stance, legs akimbo with thumbs pointing at their chests, and plastered on matching, toothy grins.

“I’m Smokey, I have dimples!” the gray haired one said proudly.

“And I’m Bandit, the shrewd one!” Mohawk declared, then to Kagome’s utter bewilderment, they performed an odd sort of synchronized dance with fake fighting that reminded Kagome of a bad action film. They concluded it by striking what they probably assumed were power poses but in reality made them look ridiculous.

Well, more ridiculous.

“And together, we’re Smokey and the Bandit!” they chorused and it was glaringly obvious they thought they’re little show was original and awe inspiring.

So of course Kagome, after getting over her shock, smiled brightly and clapped as they blushed and bowed.

“I have to admit,” she started, a teasing note to her voice, “I was a bit disappointed when you didn’t roll up in a black Trans Am, but that definitely made up for it.”

The duo stared at her for a beat of silence before abruptly losing their shit, jumping up and down, talking loudly over one another and basically just acting like rabid fangirls over the fact that Kagome understood the reference and where they’d gotten the names from. She stood there with a bemused smile on her face and inconspicuously inched toward the door where Inuyasha disappeared.

The truck bay door suddenly slid open, revealing Inuyasha in all of his scowling glory as he glared at the two idiots.

“You both need to shut the hell up before you attract every goddamn roamer within a mile radius and I have to explain to Cane why you morons became zombie food while I stood by and watched. Now quit wasting time, make yourself useful and help me load the truck or so help me...”

He let the threat trail off with one last glower before turning and disappearing further into the backroom to gather supplies to take back to the dojo. Bandit grimaced and muttered an apology to Kagome before scampering after him while Smokey chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, sorry,” Smokey apologized with a sheepish smile. “It’s not often we meet people who share our love for classic films. Heh.”

Kagome giggled and waved off his apology. “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s a good movie and one of my favorites. I have to ask, though, you do realize—”

“Smokey, get your ass over here before I barbecue it in molasses!” Inuyasha bellowed and Kagome snorted a laugh.

The wolf demon scrambled to obey, tossing Kagome one last smile before scurrying over and taking the box of canned food from Inuyasha’s arms to hand to Hakkaku, making a train.

About half an hour later the truck was loaded up, Ginta and Hakkaku were standing in front of the open bay door and waving them off as Inuyasha and Kagome drove off in the monster of a truck. Inuyasha had had to lift her up into it since her arm was still healing and she couldn’t heave herself up but he hadn’t seemed to mind and in fact did it before she’d even asked.

Leaning out the open window and smiling back at her new friends Smokey and Bandit, Kagome waved one last time then leaned back in her seat with a sigh. They were definitely interesting characters and meeting them made her wonder what his other friends were like. She was especially eager to meet Slayer; it’d be nice to have a girlfriend to chat with again and maybe she’d be able to get some more information about Inuyasha from her.

“I like them,” she announced, reaching up to grasp the handle above her head as they bumped over rough terrain and ran over debris that couldn’t be avoided. “Now I know why you call them Thing One and Two.”

She giggled as Inuyasha snorted, but the grin on his face told of his amusement.

“Told you,” he said and hit the button to put up Kagome’s window. Some of the roamers were a little too close for comfort and he didn’t want one of them reaching in.

“I do have to wonder, though...” Kagome suddenly said and Inuyasha flicked her a brief glance before looking forward again.

“What?” he rumbled, managing to squeeze the massive truck into an alley that led back to the main road. A few roamers were standing around in it, but the mounted pilot took care of them, effortlessly plowing them down and clearing the way.

Kagome tilted her head and tipped him a smile, brown eyes flashing impishly.

“They do realize that Snowman was Bandit’s partner, and not Smokey the Sheriff?”

Inuyasha couldn’t stop the grin from spreading and he barked out a laugh.

“What we’re dealing with here,” he replied, shooting her a smirk as amber eyes glinted wickedly, “is a complete lack of respect for the law.”

Kagome threw her head back and laughed.

Ch. 6

a nod to one of my all-time favorite movies, Smokey and the Bandit. also that last line that Inuyasha says is a quote from the movie. Sheriff Buford T Justice, otherwise known as Smokey, says it to his (very dimwitted) son.

buy me a coffee? C:

#another day in hell #ch 5 #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #keizfanfiction #fanfiction #zombie apocolypse au

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jq37 · 4 years

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The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 3

Thanks, I Hate It!

This week, we move forward by first jumping backwards. Last episode, the Bad Kids found that Riz and Fig were missing. Now, we get to see what happened in the meantime. Riz was in his office, trying to put together anything new on the Nightmare King. We’re reminded that his sword--the Sword of Shadows which he got from the arcade and lets him misty step (also, which he used to kill Kalvaxus)--was made by Tabaxi ninjas (seemingly relevant considering the whole Shadowcat thing). He notices that, in his photo, Kalina’s image doesn’t look as time-worn as the rest of it, as if only the part where she appears was protected. He hears a noise and goes to investigate. What he finds, is a creepy-ass nightmare skeleton person in the mirror claiming to be Baron, from the Baronees (the person he on the fly lied--poorly--that he was dating in ep 1). Respecting the fact that Murph never clarified whether Baron was a guy or a girl, Brennan has Baron exclusively refer to themselves as Riz’s R̵̪̹̄o̸̱͝m̸͔͔̂̽a̴͕̾̈́n̵͙̬͒c̸̣̏͠ḙ̸̃̓ ̶̞̇̕P̸̞͚̈́a̸͉͒͝r̴̛͈͈t̷͓͇̋͒n̸̬͛̈́e̴̮̒r̴̝̃̓ in this mega-cursed, fake Swedish(?) accent.

Thanks, I hate it.

Riz, faced with his lie brought to life, is pretty freaked and tries to shoot it but he’s quickly subdued and dragged into the mirror. Luckily, he’s able to leave the photo for his friends to find.

Meanwhile, Fig spent the night in a weird fugue state--almost like an enjoyable nightmare. Most of her focus is on this feeling of isolation, fame, and power--but in a good way. In the background, she’s doing some unimportant stuff. You know, packing her stuff, stealing a gem, trapping Gorthalax in it, and going to Bastion City. No big deal. Anyway, that brings us back to the present with the rest of our party.

They make it to Bastion City and, more importantly, the hotel where Fig is supposed to be. On the way, Adaine tries to detect magic on Sandra-Lynn to try and figure out why she can see the photograph but nothing comes up. At the hotel, they unsuccessfully try to get the concierge to tell them where Fig’s room is. Adaine detects that the receptionist has some kind of transmutation on them and her first thought is, “Magic plastic surgery.” She dispels it. Not magic plastic surgery. The concierge is a demon--which is different and worse than devils who are at least lawful and, like, part of the bureaucracy of punishing people who deserve it.

Anyway, fight time! A lot happens during this fight so I’m going to try and highlight the most important parts:

All the employees in the immediate area turn into various demons to fight the party.

Adaine and Kristen catch sight of Fig’s room number (downstairs penthouse) right before the fight starts and, at the top of the initiative, Adaine goes invisible and runs for the elevator.

Fabian vaults of Gilear’s face--unnecessarily--and rolls a nat 20.

Gilear (who has FIVE hit points) ducks and covers because of course he does. That doesn’t stop him from being completely obliterated by one punch from one of the huge gorilla demons. He freaking DIES. Thanks, I hate it.

Downstairs, Adaine finds a bunch more demons who are with Fig who is clearly being mind controlled. They have Riz strapped to a table and Fig’s about to stab him with a ritualistic knife. Adaine goes for a dispel magic and gets advantage because of Boggy which leads to her rolling *two nat 20s* and snapping her out of it immediately.

In a very boss move, Fig immediately grabs Riz and dimension doors him out of his restraints and them both to the coat check where she left the ruby with Gorthalax. Before they poof out, Riz sees yellow eyes in the shadows. Familiar tabaxi eyes. Seemed like she was calling shots.

Riz gets in a very cool kill with the line, “Tell Daybreak I said hi.”

Fig finds out Gilear is dead and grabs his soul. Kristen heals him up.

Fabian vaults off of Gilear a second time and rolls a nat 1, sending him back into death saves.

Kristen tosses a spare the dying at Gilear and then kisses full wolfed out Tracker because time isn’t of the essence or anything.

Fig grabs the ruby Gorthalax is in and sees that it’s cloudy--cursed somehow to keep them from breaking him out. Not good. She also finds a bunch of other gems which she also grabs.

We meet Kristen’s new spirit guardians which are now hipster Post-Grad philosophy students in a full spectral coffee shop. She finds them insufferable but is also kind of into it.

They clean up the rest of the demons and then Fabian does donuts on the Hangman. And we are out of combat.

Fig is a little distraught about having almost killed Riz and brought them all into this dangerous situation which literally killed Gilear--even though no one else blames her even a little. Gilear has a bit of a breakdown which is fair. The man died. They try to send him home--Fig wants to give him 10k gold and send him on vacation--but he is determined to stay and experience things and be useful. Also, Fabian has it in his (and Gorgug’s) head that Gilear must be some kind of chosen one since one of the demons in the fight chose to attack Gilear over him.

Fig looks through the other gems she got and only one--a Celestial Sapphire--is similar to size to Gorthalax’s. When they bring it out, a slot in Gorgug’s van pops open. They slot the Sapphire in and, through the radio, an Angelic voice speaks to them. He sounds like Owen Wilson and he doesn’t remember his name. The Hangman hates him immediately. Fig pretends to be a cop to get info from the cops that arrive on the scene, doesn’t find out anything useful, but does roll a nat 20 on her deception (come on) and briefly turns the game into the sister, cop-drama show set in the same universe as the Grey’s Anatomy sham-life she’s living, kissing another full adult man. Incredible.

They regroup at a posh restaurant/cafe called The Swan’s Little Parade. Sklonda calls and, after she and Sandra-Lynn do the mom-catch up thing, she has a quick talk with Riz where we find out a few things about Kalina:

She only worked with Pok on missions between Falinel and Solace.

She was great at going invisible and other infiltration things.

(Note: We actually learned this earlier but I wanted to keep this info together)She looks more like a traditional housecat than a big cat like some other tabaxi.

It’s extremely hard to scry on her.

She didn’t attend Pok’s funeral.

The last time Sklonda heard from her was 12ish years ago.

Riz only encountered her a few times as a kid.

Last Sklonda remembers, she reached out to Pok it was something to do with the ship the Oracle sank on.

They pass around the picture to see who can see it and not only does it appear that Ragh can see her (oh, kinda implied this before but Riz can too) he also seemed really bugged out. Tracker says she can use her cleric mojo to put up some wards to (1) keep them from getting mind whammied like Fig did overnight and (2) maybe make Ragh feel safe enough to talk. She also suggests they all sleep in a huge dog pile for safety which I think is great and someone should draw that.

Gorgug gets a text. It’s Zelda. She can’t believe he left without saying goodbye.

Thanks, I hate it.

Detention

Fabian for Using Gilear as a Launch Pad Two (2) Times

This was a top contender for this spot, even before Fabian did this a second time and screwed up so bad (nat 1!) that Gilear dropped to zero again and had to make death saving throws.

Honor Roll

Adaine for Freeing Fig

Listen, I will freely admit that I have a clear bias towards Adaine. You got me. She’s my favorite. HOWEVER, you cannot tell me that going invisible, rushing straight to the elevator, then rolling double nat 20s (a 1/400 chance) to release Fig from domination right before she plunged a knife into Riz’s heart wasn’t the sickest series of events that happened during this ep. What could possibly compete?

Random Thoughts

I’ve been trying to figure out the rhyme or reason to who can see the full photo but I haven’t figured out a pattern yet. It’s not that only people who have seen her before can see her because Sandra-Lynn can see it and she said she’s never met her--although I guess it’s possible that she has and she didn’t recognize her since she’s a super spy. And it’s not a blanket thing on the Bad Kids specifically because Riz can see her. I was hoping they’d show it to more people so we could get a better idea of the rules. Maybe it’s based entirely on if she wants to be seen by that specific person? But then why wouldn’t it default to the blank image. It seems (from our limited POV) that most people can see her. Maybe for most people a blank space would be more suspicious than a random tabaxi? Idk.

Riz forcibly installing himself as Fabian’s best friend and it working is low key the funniest relationship development in FH. I’m so glad Murph and Lou ran with that. Also, the fact that he’s basically accepted that Riz is his best friend but the Hangman hasn’t at all is so good.

Brennan really just shot Zac in the head at point blank range at the end of the episode, huh? He really just did that to our boy. What’s also funny is that, unlike--say--CR where there’s usually at least a good minute of decompression and goodbyes, Brennan just goes for the kill shot and then peaces out immediately. What a power move.

Also, poor Zelda! She’s already so insecure, this isn’t gonna be good for her self esteem. Arguably, there were extenuating circumstances Gorgug can claim but you know that’s only gonna help so much since he def could have at least called/texted her to let her know he had to leave in a hurry because Fig/Riz were missing. I wonder if there’s a section of the binder on this.

For reference, the demons they fight in the hotel lobby are a Cambion, and then several barlgura and skeksis.

“He’s just a guy!” He certainly is. Check out his stats. Hilarious but also, I can’t act like my stats would look that much different.

I truly, truly cannot believe that Emily pulled the exact same hospital stunt again and it resolved in exactly the same way. This is like when I played blackjack with my brother when I was a teenager to teach him that the house always wins and he hit 21 twice in a row.

Also on the topic of Fig, her coming down from her mind control was my favorite part of this episode, for a couple of reasons. I love how sincerely Emily played the immediate shock and horror at what she almost did (closed book my ass). I love how every other person was so happy to get her back. I love that none of them even entertained the thought that she might be dangerous or untrustworthy now. Relationships at the intersection of constant bullying and ride or die are my favorite.

While we’re on the topic of emotional scenes, Gilear full breaking down in the van post-fight was very funny but you also genuinely felt for the guy. It’s been a really long day for the guy and he died like one and a half times. His, “I haven’t experienced anything before this moment,” line really hit me hard. And I think it’s very wild that Brennan set the DC for convincing him to go home at 25 (which Fig did not pass with a 21). It’s very interesting that Gilear’s reaction to this series of events was to double down and be like, I *need* to be here. Seems like this could be a set up for some interesting Gilear development.

The amount of times I have almost typed Balnor is unreal. My brain stores all the middle aged men hanging out with people too young for him to be hanging out with in the same folder.

I can’t believe Adaine just went for that dispel except that I can because she did the exact thing with Iris’ wig at the NY live show and I couldn’t believe that either! I really did not think (1) that was a good move or (2) gonna lead to combat (except for the kind that gets you banned from a hotel). I completely misread that situation. Like, it’s a world full of magic. It’s not that weird that a random person would have a spell on them. Anyway, this is why she’s the oracle and I’m not.

The Barlgura needed a 3 or higher to hit Gilear. He got a 19. Yikes.

“I had to ask.”/ “No you didn’t.” (The crew explodes into laughter.)

Riz tells the whole gang about the Baron thing and tells everyone that they need to stop lying in case all their lies are gonna pop out and attack them. Gorgug admits that he’s kissed the Hangman. Kristen confesses to a group of her closest friends and girlfriend that she is gay. Tracker is like, “Babe, what?” Tracker (and the Bad Kids but in a different way) must really love Kristen because she is just so much all the time.

Fabian: Who are you seeing then?/Riz:...................No one.

Ally Middle Name Beardsly wtf is a paranoia check?

The comedic rhythm of Fabian vaulting off of Gilear’s face with a nat 20, him dying, being resurrected, and the Fabian trying to do it again with a nat 1 and knocking him near death is so perfect that it’s wild that it was totally random. This is the kind of thing that makes you get superstitious about dice.

We’re introduced to Boggy’s second mood this ep which is Boggy’s mood which is a slightly squinted, “Hmm...I don’t know about this.” Thanks, I love it.

In addition to considering Gilear might be the chosen one (by who? Of what? They don’t know and neither do I) the half of the group entertaining this theory also considers Gilear might be the Nightmare King (”If you are you have to tell me. I’m your daughter.”). I don’t know if the NK does possession but please have the NK possess Gilear at some point. If the theme of this season is carefully filing away random off the cuff gags and making them plot relevant, please let this be one of them. Also, lol at Murph trying to roll high enough so that Riz has the knowledge to stop the shenanigans before it derails the whole campaign.

The group bestows upon Gilear the positions of Tour Manager, Social Media Manager, and Honorary Bad Kid (listed last of course).

Fig grabbed a lanyard of out Adaine’s jacket and I remembered, oh yeah, she has a very magical jacket that is only ever used for shenanigans, if at all. Imagine being so magic that you have a magic jacket that you’re always wearing that can summon anything (w/i reason) and you just kinda...forget about it most of the time.

Curious about why Fig specifically was called in to do the sacrifice and why Riz was the one who had to be sacrificed.

I hope Adaine just continues to loan out Boggy to anyone having a bad day. I love that.

“Maybe this is one of those massages that hurt.”

Really wanted Hilariel to Skype in and ask about Gilear. Her take on everything is always so funny. She is as crazy as everyone else in her family but in such a low key way.

Lol at the party being like, “Yeah, Tracker healed me just fine without any 69-ing,” which is truly an incomprehensible sentence without context and still mostly incomprehensible with context.

Don’t wanna overlook the coolness of Fig rolling double 17s (disadvantaged) to command the barlguras. Not magically, just convincing them she was still in charge of them. Very clutch.

Fabian is so much chiller about letting people on his motorbike these days. He let Gilear ride it. He let Riz ride it. He gave a blanket invitation for anyone in the area to hop on before he did donuts. I love Sophomore Fabian.

Gilear gets a nat 20 for his first roll! Riz and Kristen got two nat 20s. Fig got one, Gorgug got one (he rolled a second one that was lost with disadvantage), and Adaine rolled two but they really only count as one since it was with advantage. Fabian rolled one of each. That’s a lot of 20s for one ep!

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #dimension 20 #fantasy high spoilers #report card

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theyearoftheking · 4 years

Text

Book Forty-Nine: Black House

“Here is a true American loner, an internal vagrant, a creature of shabby rooms and cheap diners, of aimless journeys resentfully taken, a collector of wounds and injuries lovingly fingered and refingered. Here is a spy with no cause higher than himself.”

After almost fifty books, The Talisman still stands at the top of the leader board as my favorite Steve book. It’s richly layered, full of memorable characters and horrible villains, with a satisfying conclusion. It’s the type of book fantasy and horror lovers alike are eager to escape into.

It’s sometimes hard to embrace the sequel to a book you love so much... I mean, I can be bought, but my criteria are stringent:

Consider setting the book in Wisconsin... perhaps the beautiful, sad, remote, desolate western part of the state right along the Mississippi river.

Maybe a Dahmer reference?

Scratch that. Instead, go with an old-school serial killer no one really talks about anymore. How about... Albert Fish? He’s pretty gross.

On second thought, reconsider a Dahmer reference. Maybe an evil spirit that links Dahmer and Fish together?

TONS of Dark Tower references.

If Steve and Pete were to consider writing a follow up to The Talisman with all these elements, I might consider reading it.

Spoiler!

Dark House contains all this goodness, and more.

It’s so fucking dark, y’all. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to drive past a long-term care facility and NOT think about an old man inside wanting to eat the buttocks of small children.

Oh hey, trigger warnings for cannibalism, and violence against children.

So, Dark House is set in fictional Coulee County, Wisconsin (not a place). But Steve and Pete (I need to start giving Peter Straub some shout outs as well) describe the western part of the state magnificently. Not too long ago I had a sales job that required me to travel the entire state, and I always loved my jaunts west. I’d park right along the Mississippi, eat my lunch and just soak up the isolation. I’d much rather make the drive to Pierce county than the Quad Cities, which my current employer is asking of me. *Silent scream for help*

Despite Coulee being fictional, the actual Wisconsin references are thick:

De Pere (where we recently found out Steve spent a few formative years)

The Brewers

Miller Park

Kingsland Ale- while fictional, it’s a nod to Wisconsin’s rich brewing history, and favorable climate for microbreweries

Dahmer (several times, actually)

Racine. Y’all. I have no idea what Steve’s obsession is with Racine... it comes up in multiple books. It’s really not that great. Take that from someone who spent a brief period of time working there. Honestly, my favorite thing about Racine is the authentic Thai restaurant right in downtown, Sticky Rice. If you find yourself in Racine, please go check them out... their red devil curry is amaze-balls.

So, yes... lots of Wisconsin. Also, lots of Dark Tower:

Eye of the King

Crimson King

The Tower

Red roses

Breakers

Little Sisters

Gunslingers and their weapons

Roland and the ka-tet

Monos! Blaine and Patricia

Chief Breaker Brautigan- who allegedly tells hilarious stories about his escapes. I miss him already.

I have questions about how Steve convinced Pete to include so many Dark Tower elements into this book...

Steve: “Pete, bud... I know you might have a different vision for how this book plays out. Buuut what about if we make it part of the Dark Tower universe?”

Pete: Stares for a long minute. “Um, I thought that series was dead in the water. Do we really need to use Dark House to resuscitate it?”

Steve: “Remember the car accident? You know, the one that almost took my leg?”

Pete *Oh fuck, he’s bringing up the car accident as a bid for sympathy, and to convince me to make this a Dark Tower book...* “Of course I remember!”

Steve: “Well, it shook some things loose. I’m about ready to finish the series. I just thought it might be fun if we make this book a lead-up to the finale”

Pete: “It’s intriguing, but I’m not really sure it’s the direction I want to go in. I was thinking more-”

Steve: “I ALMOST DIED IN THAT ACCIDENT!”

Pete: “Cool, Dark Tower book it is!”

I should write fan fiction. I’ve obviously got a gift.

Black House is told from a birds-eye narration view. Literally... there’s this fat, evil crow named Gorg flying all over town, giving us the lay of Coulee County. Bad stuff has been going on: little children have gone missing, and only a few of their bodies have turned back up mutilated and broken.

The chief of police, Dale Gilbertson, knows he’s in over his head, and keeps trying to convince his pal, retired police detective, Jack “Hollywood” Sawyer to come consult on the case.

Jack isn’t having it. He retired young and moved to Coulee County from Los Angeles after tracking down and arresting serial killer Thorny Kinderling. The majestic beauty of western Wisconsin caught him by surprise, and he happily invested in reasonably priced (read: cheap) real estate with a view.

Upon moving to Wisconsin, Jack befriended Dale’s blind uncle Henry Leydon; who voices several radio programs, including The Wisconsin Rat, which plays indy screamo bands and has plenty of shock-jock antics. The two hang out together, listen to jazz music, and sometimes Jack reads to Henry. Henry was able to use his elevated senses to study Jack’s speech pattern and figure out Jack’s mom was THE Lily Cavanaugh; the Queen of the B’s.

While Jack and Henry are reading Bleak House, Charles “Burny” Burnside is wandering around the Maxton Elder Care Facility, pretending to have dementia, and dragging children into The Territories for Lord Malshun to either use as Breakers, or for Burny to snack on if they have no Breaking skills. So, Burny’s a bad dude who did some suspicious things in Chicago; but an evil spirit (the same one who invaded Albert Fish and Jeffrey Dahmer’s bodies) is what’s causing his kidnapping and cannibalistic urges. I know I say this every ten books or so, but Burny might be the worst King villain ever. I was not upset later on when his intestines were violently ripped from his body.

A sweet little boy (with strong Breaker powers) named Tyler Marshall goes missing outside the Maxton Elder Care Facility. While he was being pulled into the bushes by Gorg who kept repeating his name; his mother, Judy receives a taunting package and letter from The Fisherman, which sends her over the brink, and she’s institutionalized.

Tyler’s disappearance really amps up the town outrage, and Jack agrees to help the police department out. He’s starting to suspect there’s some Territories nonsense going down, and he can help.

From here, the book goes at break-neck pace and includes everything from micro-brewing bikers, a dog bite that causes one to dissolve into a foamy puddle on the couch, our old friend Speedy Parker showing up as a gunslinger, the world’s most annoying newspaper reporter, plenty of flipping between worlds via the creepy old black house hidden in the woods, and a happy(ish) ending. Honestly, there’s a warning at the end of the book, which allows you to choose your own ending. You can stop reading five pages before the end, and enjoy a happy ending where the good guys win; or you can get the real world ending. Both are satisfying... I recommend reading all the way to the end.

So, just a few quotes for you...

“Wolf died of a disease called America.”

This line gutted me. I didn’t realize how much I loved Wolf as a character, until I had to read a follow-up that didn’t include him. His soul was too clean and beautiful for a fucked-up world like the one we currently live in.

“He doesn’t like the cell phone to begin with- twenty-first-century slave bracelets, he thinks them...”

No explanation needed.

“Why must life always demand so much and give so little? Parkus answers her question with a single word: ka.”

Again, no explanation needed.

Was this book as good as The Talisman?

No.

Did I want more?

Absolutely.

But was I satisfied with the end?

You bet your (un-chomped on) ass.

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 33

Total Dark Tower References: 50

Book Grade: A-

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Wizard and Glass: A+

Needful Things: A+

On Writing: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Hearts in Atlantis: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Bag of Bones: A-

Black House: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B

Storm of the Century: B-

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Desperation: C-

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Christine: D

Dreamcatcher: D

The Regulators: D

The Tommyknockers: D-

Now I move onto From a Buick Eight. I’ve had an advanced reading copy since the book came out, but never had the urge to actually read it. That should tell you everything you need to know about my level of enthusiasm right now. I’m hoping it’s not a Christine 2.0.

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights, Rebecca

#black house #the talisman #the dark tower #stephen king #peter straub #constant readers #ka #wisconsin #albert fish #dahmer

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curiousdamage · 5 years

Text

The Thin Gold Line: Back of a Cop Car

Day 31 of writing challenge (I somehow skipped 14 last time.) Inspired by a whump fic prompt of a victim dying, locked in the back of a car at an old gas station.

Fandom: Cagney and Lacey

I own nothing.

Warning: Violence described.

Isbecki bites off more than he can chew when he answers a dangerous call alone.

Victor held his hand against the stab wound in his stomach. Little good it was doing, judging by the amount of blood slipping through his fingers. He should just move his hand and bleed to death quicker, that is, if the pain in his head didn't do him in first. No one was going to reach him.

The 911 call had been bogus. He'd caught the call for a 'burglary in progress' at the old gas station, even though he was technically off duty, as it was just a block off his usual route home. He had known something was wrong as soon as he’d pulled up. This place wasn’t just old. It was abandoned. Still, he'd gotten out and approached the building with caution. Might have been a mugging, or worse, misreported by a passerby. Could be still in progress, or an injured victim still around.

He spun on his heels when he'd heard the woman screaming behind him. Before he could decipher exactly where the scream had come from, he felt as though his head had been split open as someone hit him from behind with what felt like a crowbar. He’d gone down hard and had been surrounded by five or six young men, hitting, kicking, and punching him until he couldn't even try to get up. Then they had dragged him over to his car and thrown him in the backseat, but not before one of them gave him a parting gift of a switchblade to the gut, then slammed the door essentially trapping him there to bleed to death. Spots were dancing in front of his eyes as he heard the radio crackle to life.

"522 to base, 522 check in…,” the tinny voice called out.

He'd love to. He slammed a weak fist against the thin piece of plexiglass separating the front seat from the back. They had been installed in all the undercover cars after a Detective from the 10th had been choked out by a perp with his handcuffs. Though even without it, he wasn’t sure he'd have the strength to haul himself over the seat to answer.

Funny that something designed to save his life was going to aid in ending it.

"522, are you code 4?" the voice rang out again.

No, he wasn't Code 4. He wasn't all good. He was dying. He kicked, uselessly at the Plexiglass, then groaned, eye's wide with the pain that caused. Stupid.

Two calls. Usually, after a third unanswered call, they sent marked cars to your last known location, but not for him. He'd ignored too many well checks when he'd thought himself "too busy'. Hadn't Jolene just been on his ass about that two days before?

Jolene.

Now he wished he’d have stopped by her office one more time before leaving and given her a real goodbye instead of just stuffing a dirty note in her jacket pocket as he'd signed out for the day. Of course, he hadn't thought it was a real goodbye. He had thought he would be seeing her in an hour when she got off work and came over to his place to eat Chinese take-out and watch the Knicks game on television.

In the three years since she’d moved to New York, she'd become one of his best friends. Okay, so she had questionable taste in music preferring Simon and Garfunkel to Barry Manilow, that is when she wasn't listening to that God-awful country junk, but she was always up to catch a Mets or Knicks game from the cheap seats, drinking bad beer and splitting nachos. Or all for spending an afternoon in a dark theater watching an old John Wayne movie.

Of course, this meant he’d spent his fair share of time going to Broadway plays, sappy romance movies, and rip off Urban Cowboy dance clubs. Hell, he had even learned to two-step when he’d realized that he really didn't like those wannabe cowboys pawing at her while he sat at the bar talking to her friend, Analise.

Then about six months ago everything had changed. They had gone to the Policemen's Ball together. They’d had a great time, drinking, laughing, and doing their damnedest to show up Marcus and Claudia on the dance floor.

He’d walked her to her door, like always since she didn’t live in the best building since moving out of Analise’s Park Avenue penthouse. Maybe they had been a little drunk, or maybe they'd just needed that excuse if things didn't work out, but when she'd dropped her keys, they'd both reached for them bumping heads instead. Laughing, they'd stood up, both with a hand to their head. Looking into each other's eyes, the laughter had died, and they'd reached for each other, kissing as though they had invented it.

When he'd woke up in her bed the next morning, he'd worried that he'd ruined everything. Hadn't he turned Christine down for that very reason? Except it wasn't the same. Christine had wanted validation and an escape. Jolene had wanted him.

Still, she'd been adamant that she didn't date cops. He hadn't been sure she would feel the same in the harsh morning sun as she had slightly tipsy the night before. He knew he hadn't needed to worry when she’d woken up and smiled at him.

No one at the station knew yet, well except Petrie, who had bumped into them out on a date and still hadn't gotten it until Claudia had pointed out that they were intruding and pulled Marcus away. It was just as well. He never could keep anything from his partner.

“522 report to base." The voice was getting more insistent.

He shook his head and stared at the roof of the beat-up old car. How ironic. Hadn't Jo just said this very thing was going to happen?

When he'd gotten to work two days before and saw the note on his desk, summoning him to the Dispatch Director's office, he’d grinned and thrown a suggestive look at Petrie as he'd passed his desk.

“Yeah,” Petrie laughed. “She was here at four to pull the tapes from this weekend. You may not be so happy when you get back there.”

“Nah, it’ll be cool.” He’d encouraged Jolene to go after the Director’s job when Thomas had retired the year before knowing she’d be perfect for it with her background and experience. She’d been worried about others who had been there longer thinking she was stepping on their toes, but he knew that most of the dispatchers were either retired patrolmen who still wanted to be involved or people just looking for extra income or the insurance. No one who wanted the responsibility of running the department.

And she was great if a little too stuck on protocols that Thomas had ignored. Like well-checks.

She didn’t look in the mood to appreciate his humor or innuendos right then, so he just took the seat across from her desk.

“How did it go this morning? Was the dispatcher rude?” He asked, knowing that the reason she’d come in so early was that one of her dispatchers had been accused of behaving improperly during a 911 call and she had to review the tapes to see if he had been before writing him up.

She yawned and shook her head. “From the standpoint of a dispatcher, no. He was a little brusque as he explained the limitations of just what Officers could do if he sent them out, but he wasn’t rude or lying. But, if I was a Mom whose 18-year-old daughter just ran off with a 48-year-old man, I’m not sure how I would take news I didn’t want to hear either. I’m not going to write him up, but he is going to have to do some sensitivity training which means I do too.”

“Sorry, Babe.”

“That’s not why I called you in here.” She walked around and sat on the corner of her desk. “I had to listen to the tapes for almost the whole weekend. Victor, you ignored four well check calls. Not answered them late, just flat out ignored them. We rolled marked units four times and you were fine. That’s four times they could have been dealing with real problems.”

He rolled his eyes. “Would you have rather that I wasn’t okay? I was busy. I can’t always stop to answer the radio. Half the time I don’t even have one. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not talking about when you are undercover,” she replied, trying to keep her temper under control. “I’m talking about when you are just on the street. Look, I know you are used to wearing a wire and not breaking your flow, but when you aren’t, you must answer the calls. It’s the only way we know you are okay and don’t need back up. There are eight thousand police officers in this city and five hundred and seventy of them work in this building alone and my six dispatchers have to keep up with every one of them. We don’t have time to chase around those of you who think we’re a joke!”

“I don’t think you’re a joke,” he replied.

“Could have fooled me,” she shot back. “I don’t have them doing well check calls because I want to be a pain in the ass, or I want to make sure they’re awake. I do it because…, because I want every one of those five hundred and seventy officers to make it home.” She stopped and covered her face with her hands before whispering, “Especially you.” She wiped at her eyes before looking back up, her earlier anger abated. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…, I’m scared that one day you won’t answer because you really need help, but no one will pay any attention because they’re used to you not answering and I don’t…, I can’t…,” she stopped again. She got up from the desk and turned her back to him.

Victor stood up and went over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her temple. “I’m sorry, Baby. I guess I didn’t realize how important it was. I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Well, you better. Next time I’ll have to write you up,” she sniffled, looking up at him and smiling.

“Hmm…, you know, it was kind of hot when you were yelling at me. Might be worth getting written up for to get yelled at again,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her.

“Idiot,” she laughed, pushing him away. “Come to my place tonight. I’ll yell at you all you want, and it won’t have to go in your personnel file.”

“522 to base, come in 522,” the voice called again.

He didn’t realize that day would be just two days later.

“Miss Baker?” A new woman named Nannette stopped her as she was getting her jacket to leave.

“Yes, Nannette?” She replied, distractedly, as she pulled the note out of her pocket, blushing as red as her hair when she read it. That man was truly twisted.

“Detective Isbecki answered at burglary in progress call five minutes ago and he isn’t answering the well checks. Do you want me to keep trying or just send out back up?” Nanette asked.

“Wait. You didn’t send back up to start with? You always send back up with ‘in progress’ calls. Get on it,” Jolene scolded. She shoved the note back in her pocket and rushed to an empty console.

“Isbecki, call base. Isbecki…,” No, they weren’t supposed to use real names over the radio and maybe she was a little more panicked than she should be, but a sick feeling had settled into the pit of her stomach. No way was Victor just not answering after the talk they’d had. He’d sworn he wasn’t going to do that anymore. Something was wrong. She knew it. “Victor! Please answer me! Victor! Victor!” She waited for maybe another two seconds, instead of minutes like she was supposed to before the panic got the best of her and she initiated an ‘Officer Down’ code. If she was wrong, 1PP would have her ass, but if she wasn’t, he could already be…, No. She wasn’t going to think like that.

Victor was fading in and out of consciousness when he heard Jolene call his name. First, Isbecki, then Victor. Over and over. He had to be confused. No way she would use his real name on the radio. Wasn’t confusion a bad sign when you were wounded? He couldn’t remember anymore. He closed his eyes, his hand falling away from the wound in his stomach. It didn’t matter anymore. No way would anyone find him in time.

“Victor! Stay with us! Help is on the way!” Jolene called out again, rousing him from the stupor he was falling into.

Why did she sound so scared? Jo never got rattled. He was okay. Everything was fine. He wasn’t even in that much pain anymore.

“Victor!”

He wanted to let her know it was okay. He was fine. Even his head wasn’t aching anymore. It was going to be fine. “Jolene, Baby.” His voice came out barely above a whisper before the world went black around him.

“Victor! Victor!”

He felt someone slapping his cheeks, trying to wake him. But it wasn’t Jolene calling his name this time. It was Marcus.

“Victor! Victor! Come on, Man! You can do it. You can’t go out like this,” Marcus said, still slapping him.

“Jolene,” he said, again, trying to open his eyes. The world spun as he tried to make his eyes focus and he was sure he was going to puke. He was still in his car, but now Marcus was beside him, holding pressure against his stab wound with one hand and trying to bring him around with the other.

“That’s it,” Marcus said, relief breaking in his voice. “That’s it. Stay with me, Partner. The ambulance is almost here. CHRIS! MARY BETH! WE GOT HIM BACK,” he yelled outside the car. “Get that ambulance here!”

Victor wanted to tell him to shut it, the pain in his head slamming him back into consciousness as Cagney slung open the other door.

“Ambulance is two minutes out,” she reported. “Hang on, Victor. We got you now. Just hang on.”

The abandoned building was bathed in red and blue lights as the paramedics removed him from the car, but Victor barely noticed as he slipped from consciousness again, the pain of being moved too much to handle.

As soon as the paramedics had taken over for Marcus, he’d opened the front door of the car and grabbed Victor’s radio mic from its hook.

“We got him, Jolene. We got him.”

“Thank God,” she whispered before dropping the mic. “Thank you, God.” Then she lost her lunch in the nearest wastebasket. She’d never been that scared in her life.

#writing challenge #cagney and lacey #Isbecki

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