#legit had a guy say we should hang one of those open signs on the doors

[theviolentlesbian]

I hate the people who come into my place of work like "oh you guys are open? You looked closed from outside." Like do you say that to every store you go into? We look as open as every other store in this strip mall wtf do you mean "we look closed"????

#the windows are tinted but there are automatic doors that open when you like up like???? #idk what these people expect honestly #a glowing neon open sign? #sorry due to the chemicals we sell here those arent really allowed #legit had a guy say we should hang one of those open signs on the doors #and like..... inside the doors you wouldnt see it caus again tinted windows #if it was on the outside itd blow off #and even if it didn't like.... i would have to hand it up every morning when i came in and i dont have tike for that honestly. #just check our hours of operation on the door or online its not fuckin hard

[werenotadulting]

Routine Procedure - Finale

Author's note - Hope you enjoyed!

Part 7 - Kate

If you'd asked her, Kate wouldn't have been able to tell what exactly had gotten her interested in it.

Maybe it was the idea of the power dynamic. She had always been one of those girls labeled as 'bossy' growing up, which was a misogynistic way of saying that she wasn't afraid to speak up and speak her mind.

Or maybe it was the subversion of expectations of a traditional relationship that did it for her. The idea that she was the one in control, the one making all the decisions.

Maybe it was the fact that it was so taboo and kinky that appealed to her. It didnt really matter, whatever the reason.

Kate was into being a Mommy Domme, and Kate found nothing hotter than having a diapered little bitch boy to call her own.

The ultimate fantasy was teaching the boy to love and trust his diapers. Make him associate orgasming with wet diapers and diaper changes. Create a leaking "accident" in public so he learns that while thicker diapers might increase the risk of being noticed, they save you from the embarrassment of wet pants.

Of course, she had considered bringing up her desires to Mike, but based off of past experiences, she didn't want to chance it. Mike was just too perfect of a guy to risk blowing it like that.

She had always been the dominant one in bed, with Mike eagerly submitting to her every whim, so she knew they were sexually compatible. It had never gone past light bondage though, and Kate was starting to get an itch that handcuffs and blindfolds just wouldn't scratch.

────────

It had come up entirely by chance, one day while she was scrolling through an obscure ABDL forum.

The post read: "Biomedical engineer here, and I think I've figured out a way to induce instant, semi-permanent incontinence."

The post was over 3 days old, and only had two comments on it. The first was from a mod, basically saying to take everyone's posts with a grain of salt. The second was from the OP, about 24 hours after the original post.

"I know it sounds like a fantasy, but I'm pretty confident it will work. I've had a career in medical devices for the last 8 years, specializing in the urology space. I don't want to get too deep into the details on here, so just PM me of you're interested."

Kate rolled her eyes.

Everyone in this community is so hooked on the 'I want to be instantly incontinent' thing, and all it ever ends up being is some silly fap content, she thought to herself.

"You know what, let's feed the troll and see what bites," she muttered.

Liv2DomU: ok spill, what's your magical method?

PrinceOfPadding: this for you, or someone else?

Liv: hypothetically, let's say it's for a boyfriend

Prince: Ahh okay. Very interesting. Well, like I said, I've worked in med device for awhile, and I've recently started my own company. I primarily work in the urology space, catheters, scopes, that kind of stuff.

Liv: hmm hate to break it to u bud, but catheters kinda already exist

Prince: oh sure, catheters exist, but my idea is to bridge the catheter world with the stent world

Liv: sounds idk...sketchy? illegal?

As she read more, Kate was beginning to think that this guy might not be as full of crap as she had initially thought. He had his own start-up, which had already launched a Foley catheter to the market. It was all above-board and legit.

Prince: so, for the aspiring incontinent-person-to-be, the ring is positioned with a catheter, and stays in place once the Foley is removed. Then overtime, probably a month at minimum, depending on the chemical makeup and customer desire, the ring breaks down and is naturally absorbed into the body. And they all sign a consent form saying they accept the risks of such a procedure.

Liv: so then once it's dissolved they are back to being being able to control their bladder?

Prince: that's the theory, yes

Liv: theory?

Prince: well, dissolvable stent technology present state takes like 18 months to break down, and the manufacturing of it is patented and kept under lock and key

Liv: so basically all you have to offer is a catheter lol

Prince: well no. I've got some good leads on dissolvable compounds, but I've got to do trials of the rings first to see if it would even work. I've promised free diapers for the first few months if people sign up, but it's been hard to get subjects

Liv: so these trial rings wouldn't dissolve?

Prince: nope

Liv: meaning my hypothetical boyfriend would be....?

Prince: permanently diaper dependent, yeah

────────

In the end Kate was curious enough that she was willing to hear the guy out.

He'd asked for a mailing address and her phone number. The first was to send proof that his company was real, and the second was just to keep in contact should she decide to proceed.

It all made sense, at least in theory. Foley catheters were safe, provided they were inserted by a trained healthcare professional. A normal person would get a normal catheter just like everyone else. But an ABDL would be signing up for what was essentially an intentionally faulty catheter.

Assuming they knew they were willingly signing up for it.

When asked about 'accidental' ring implants, Prince had basically said, hey, people really need to learn to read the fine print.

────────

I walked out to the mailbox. I've been expecting test results back from the scan I'd had a few weeks back. Opening up the box, I noticed a large envelope with my hospital's address on the front.

About time, I thought, grabbing the envelope and the rest of the mail.

I walked back into the house, where Kate was making herself a cup of tea.

"Anything good in the mail?" she asked, taking a sip from her mug.

I listed them aloud as I started to flip though the mail, "Looks like some junk mail, an internet bill, a brochure for some UroVention medical thing, and last but not least, my test results."

I dropped the rest of the mail on the counter and started to open up my scan results. As I was reading, Kate walked over and began sorting through the other mail.

"Oh good, they said it's benign, but they're still worried about the location. They're recommending removal, just to be on the safe side."

"Removal for something benign? That sounds odd, but whatever," Kate said, tucking something into her back pocket.

"I'm not too worried. It sounds like it should be a pretty routine procedure."

────────

Part 8 - Mike

I sat down on the couch, my diaper squishing underneath me. Kate had taken to putting two stuffers in my diaper, even though these Tykables could already hold a lot. The warm, comforting feeling of my wet diaper started to turn me on, just like it did every time I realized how wet I was or if I was about to get a change. Not that I could do anything about it, though.

I flipped open the laptop and signed in. It would probably be a good hour before Kate got back from the store. Apparently I was being downgraded from sippy cups to bottles.

Once logged in, I noticed that the screen was still up to the site where Kate had last been. It was another diaper order, this time a case of Megamaxes. I felt my cheeks start to heat up, seeing that Kate had chosen the pink color for the whole case.

I opened up a private window, and navigated to KinkLink. My profile on here was pretty bare. It always had been, just containing my age, gender, and some basic interests. I hadn't even bothered to post a picture when I set it up. I preferred to look at other people's profiles rather than post things of my own.

I was always intrigued by people's locations and how close they were to where I lived. One such person who I came back to check the posts of daily was a mommy domme, who it happened lived in my town. Her first posts, from nearly three years ago, were what had first caught my attention.

'Every night I dream about finding my perfect diaper slut. He will wake up to me rubbing his thick, soggy padding, the little bedwetter that I turned him into.'

'Picture this: You, in a wet diaper and nothing else. Me, in my black lingerie with a strap on. Do I have any volunteers?'

'Have no doubt, if you date me, it's diapers forever. There's no "only at home" or "but my parents are coming over". Maybe I'll just find a way to make you incontinent. Then you won't have an excuse.'

And then there were the pictures. She never would show her face, but she didn't need to.. She wasn't lying about the black lingerie. It left very little to the imagination. Then the next picture, where the bra came off, and she was just in her lacy panties, her pierced nipples and tattoos on display. Maybe it was the octopus tattoo on her arm, my favorite animal, that made her stick out to me.

But there was one post that I always came back to and was entranced by. It was a picture of her holding an ABU Kiddo, right below her breasts. She wasn't wearing any clothing.

'Aww baby, did you wet the bed? I think we should probably put you in some protection.'

────────

I stood in line at the coffee shop. It wasn't too busy for a Tuesday at 9 a.m., only two people were ahead of me. As the first person in line got her coffee and the second lady stepped up to place her order, I checked my phone. Still a half hour before I needed to be at work, I had some time to sit and enjoy my drink. I got my usual and went off to a booth in the corner.

"Excuse me, but do you happen to know what the Wi-Fi password is here?"

I looked up to see the woman who had been in front of me in line.

"Oh um, yeah it's....oh I think they just changed it. Try 'PINTO'. They always pick some sort of bean, I think they find it amusing, but it's never a coffee bean..." I trailed off.

She smiled, "Oh thank you so much, yeah I'll try that."

My mouth fell open is shock.

"I uhhh...I like your tattoo," I said. "They're my, um, favorite animal."

"Oh mine too! Isn't the octopus, like, the coolest animal?"

"D-definitely. Hey, would you like to sit with me? I'm just hanging out while I wait for work. My name is Mike by the way."

"That sounds really nice. Thank you, Mike. I'm Kate."

[geminihalos]

🌟🌟🌟Here’s some good things I have to say about every single sign’s energy 🌟🌟🌟

💎I hope I can at least brighten up someone’s day!💎

Aries: All you guys are awesome and pretty creative ngl. No one gives you proper credit for that. You guys care so much and are so bold and straightforward to putting people in their place, and that makes you an awesome leader. You are so affectionate and loving despite having a rougher exterior. Fun personality, great ideas, and you have good energy for anything. I love the down for anything energy. Good memers as well 🤣🤣.

Taurus: haha to be honest, I come across this sign the least out of all 12 signs, but nevertheless I’ve chatted with a bunch of you. Stubborn and strong physically and mentally. You guys have a good eye for nature aesthetics, and are so stable in your mindset. I love how I can tell you guys literally anything and the secret is kept in the vault. So so beautiful and I love wheezing with ya’ll. I treasure all my Taurus friends and the acquaintances. The humor is on point my friends.

Gemini: my own sign. I don’t understand why everyone has something against us. All the Geminis I met are wise and helpful. They think from many different perspectives and change over time. It is 1 million percent possible for a Gemini to mature and become a stable person. I observe that those with Gemini energy are social and we can keep a secret whether you believe it or not (😲). You just have to attract those who are on the same wavelength with you. If you’re two faced, you will be friends with two faced people (speaking for all the signs)

Cancer: you guys care abt everything so so much, which I appreciate to the bottom of my heart. You’re empathic and allow yourself to feel through the emotion that you experience, so that you grow to be more resilient and more loving. I love you guys bc you guys are so chill, funny, and can understand despite the crybaby stereotypes. Artistically gifted I swear, all of you can draw and I’m lowkey jealous.

Leo: where do i even start. You guys are so comedic and the easiest to socialize with. You guys are passionate and loyal to your friends and family which is a #1 thing that I treasure from every Leo. Ya’ll are honest and loud which is what most people need to break out of their limitations whether it be their fears or their insecurities. Good leaders too, and amazing people.

Virgo: lovely Virgos, you guys are the best for fashion advice and to talk to bc you guys are natural healers. People just don’t understand the way you think sometimes because I know that you just want the best for people. To not want them to be reckless. you can talk to anyone about their problems no judgement unless it’s hella stupid. I love hanging around and joking with you guys and you’re the one of the gentlest signs I’ve met.

Libra: so fun and very snarky, I love it. You people are crazy and at the same time calm, diplomatic, fashion forward, and beautiful inside and out. I love how you’re able to be friends with anyone and be supportive in any situation. Good leaders and ppl sleep on that ngl. People need balance and someone to keep them together, and I think libras excel at that job. You don’t deserve whatever slander comes towards you (unless you did something truly evil lmao).

Scorpio: yo my scorp friends, you guys are intense and understand things that are considered socially unacceptable. I love your guys ability to understand everyone and your emotions run so deep, it’s always such a wonderful experience to talk with you. Even though ppl misunderstand you in the media, the media doesn’t understand how hilarious, exciting, and caring you guys are. Intense, so you guys understand me pretty well. Deep convos are my most fav part about you.

Sagittarius: Best comedic partner to every grace the planets. Legit, everyone loves you guys because your energy is so radiant and bright that it warms people. You are so free spirited that you hardly get offended by little setbacks. Having the ability to bounce back from hard situations is what I respect most in all of you. You are cultured as well, and coming from a person of culture you have everyone’s respect. Your beautiful open mind will take you far.

Capricorn: oh Cheezesticks... Capricorn’s appear the most in my life and I still to this day don’t know why. I’ve had such a long history with you guys and know that you are empathic feelers and thinkers, entertainers, stubborn, fun to argue with, and your shenanigans have me wheezing on the ground. You have this comforting energy that radiates warmth despite some ppl saying you’re so cold and distant. Like wtf, ya’ll are so nice and nurturing.

Aquarius: lol asparagus memes... but seriously, every Aquarius I’ve met has never failed to make people around them laugh. Have very crazy shenanigans and are intelligent. Easy to relate to and have a unique sense of humor that also has me wheezing but just so much that I was deceased. I don’t get the Aquariuses are so goddamn distant type thing. They feel strong emotions and have empathy, they’re just good at finessing them so people don’t see through their social facade. You guys are awesome and vibrant personalities.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Pisces: ah the rant ability factor is just off the charts. You guys are so adaptable and sweet, you guys won my heart over a bunch of times. Like I can talk to you guys about anything and you guys would provide good insight or opinion on it and we would be chill. No one would get offended. You care about others and I respect that about you guys.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Here’s a message I would like to put out for everyone regardless of any sign.

So I’ve been hearing about slander (through social media/real life) on all our zodiac signs and it’s been irritating me because there are. 7 billion people on planet earth and we have mfs out here ranking signs and judging people’s signs when they really never met all 7billion people to come up with that conclusion abt all the signs. There are good and there are Bad people, but there are no bad signs. Every one of you have something good to offer, and I believe that hating on all air/earth/water/fire signs for something 1-30 ppl did out of 1.75 billion ppl of each element is wrong. You know who you are and you should stop the judgement bc ppl can’t control their birthday. No one deserves hate and and no signs should be glorified than the other. I hope ya’ll have a great day. ♥️♥️♥️♥️

#aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #Leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #air signs #fire signs #earth signs #water signs #astro notes #astro observations #zodiac

[ruthoakenshield]

Very Good Friends (Chapter 14)

Catch up here: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8]  [Chapter 9]  [Chapter 10]  [Chapter 11]  [Chapter 12]

Reader x Henry Cavill, Reader x co-star named Dan

Warning: This tale is for 18+ readers ONLY!!!   Mentions of flashbacks: (rape, anal sex, non-con sex, abuse), severe bruising and injury, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression,   humiliation, and some fluff to make us feel better. Smut comes later on in the story… Several chapters down the road… I promise!!!

If  ANY of the warnings upset you or make you uncomfortable, DO NOT read  below  the cut! go find something else to read in this case and if you want to be removed from the taglist for this story, let me know. I won’t be upset, I promise!

If you are okay with reading those things then enjoy the tale below the cut.

Feedback  and reblogs are appreciated. I do not own Henry nor do I have any   personal knowledge of him besides what is common knowledge amongst the   Cavillary. Any mistakes and typos are mine, story is not beta-tested.   GIF I got from the tumbler search thingy.

**********

The next few weeks flew by for you and Henry. So much was going on and since your voice was not recovering as well as the doctor liked, he ordered you to not talk unless it was absolutely necessary. Henry tried to keep you from talking as much as possible to save your voice. He ended up getting you an electronic note pad device for you to carry around, so you could just write your answers and comments when people tried to talk with you to try to save your voice as much as possible. It frustrated you but you complied, slowly your vocal cords healed, and your voice slowly returned to normal.

When Dan’s PR person first let word got out of Dan’s arrest and their supposed reasoning for it, the media had a hayday. Henry was furious. He was always careful to not show his anger when you were around him, but you could feel him rumbling under the surface, whenever you were around. The energy and anger coming off of him you often felt radiating from him in waves. You tried not to take it personally. You knew he wasn’t mad at you but at your costar, Dan, and the person who leaked the info. You knew Henry cared for you deeply and you were grateful for his constant doting on you even when it grated on your nerves.

You were finally sleeping better and the reoccurring nightmares didn’t happen as often now that you had finally figured out how to shut them down and had been able to talk with Henry about your guilty feelings. When the nightmares did appear, you were able to recognize it starting and would wrap yourself up in your blanket burrito and cling to Henry and he would help you through it. The two of you became incredibly close during this time, and did the best you could to maintain a professional work ethic when on set and out in public; despite sharing a trailer and living together. Henry was careful not to pressure you for anything beyond friendship, insisting you needed to heal both emotionally as well as physically.

Once the initial meeting with everyone regarding this whole Rape debacle was done, Henry noticed your Personal Assistant seemed to be acting a bit odd over the following weeks. She was asking where you were going more often and asking where you go for your counseling sessions and claimed she should know so she could put it in your agenda on the calendar. You didn’t seem to think anything of it and told her where you went.

Henry frowned, but didn’t say anything. Something about her just rubbed him the wrong way. He mentioned it to his agent and his own Persona Assistant and asked them to keep an eye on her and to inform him if they heard or saw anything. They told him they would.

You and Henry returned to filming the rest of the scenes for the film about a week after Dan Raped you; and were welcomed back by many smiling faces. Makeup had their hands full trying to keep your numerous bruises hidden until they healed. A new actor, Richard Armitage, was hired to take over Dan’s role and re-shoots were started as soon as possible.

The director sat down with you, Henry and Richard and the three of you explained to him what happened to you and why he had been called on to take the roll. “I had heard rumors of what was going on, but wasn’t wanting to believe it. I’m glad you’re doing better, but you should’ve never had to go through that. I’m so sorry he did that to you, Y/n.” he tells you. You thank him.

After that, Richard and you began to re-shoot the scenes you two had together. Many of which you had no voice for yet. He was always careful with you and would frequently check in with you to make sure you were okay and to see if you needed anything while filming with him. It set you at ease, and you felt just as safe with him as you did with Henry. The two men, became good friends and tag-teamed taking care of you throughout the rest of principal filming and re-shoots.

The days went by fast and were long 12 - 16 hour days of work for everyone. You’d find yourselves falling asleep together with Henry, cuddled on the couch. Henry never pressed you to cuddle in his bed. On the nights you each fell asleep in your own locations, he would inevitably find you snuggled against him by morning with you wrapped in your comforter burrito. He always chuckled at it, finding it amusing, but never teased you about it.

One of the times you and Henry arrived for your counseling appointment, a few weeks after the initial appointment, the atmosphere seemed different. It irked Henry and he wasn’t sure what had changed. The two of you talked with the counselor and receptionist both seemed nosier than the last few times. Asking more personal questions and always having a seemingly legit reason for asking. Henry was cautious with his answers and would frown if you shared more than he thought you should be sharing.

When you both left the office, you were caught by the paparazzi and he was furious. Bellowing at them to leave the two of you alone, he picked you up and growled at them as they trailed the two of you. He put you in the BMW and took off in it once he shoved some of the paparazzi out of the way so he could get in the car. They followed the two of you for quite a while.

Henry called his publicist and agent on speakerphone, and told them someone notified the paparazzi of your appointment and he told them how the atmosphere at the counseling session was off and how your counselor was asking questions wanting more unnecessary details. They agreed that someone there was possibly leaking info to the paparazzi. He said that you would not be returning there for any more sessions until they found who was the snitch. You were bummed, but understood why he said this. It bothered you that one of them would leak such personal and private info when their reputation and careers were on the line.

You didn’t say anything as you were too scared both from the paparazzi and from how angry Henry had gotten. After he hung up the phone, he reached over to hold your hand while he drove to a local walking trail. He needed to calm down and talk with you knowing you were probably scared. He realized this was the first time he had gotten angry in front of you and saw the fear in your face.

Henry parked the car and turned to you. “I’m sorry I got so upset, Kitten.” he said softly. “I know you’re probably scared, and I don’t blame you. Can we go for a walk and talk?” he asks.

You nod. He gets out of the car after kissing your hand. You watch as he circles the car and opens the door for you. He helps you out and he holds your hand as he leads you along the path. You both are quiet for a few moments. Then he starts to explain to you why he got so upset. And you realize that there has been some of your personal information leaked to the press in regards to your counseling sessions and it is fueling rumors about you and Henry’s relationship.

Someone is feeding info to the press and you realize how precarious your privacy now is. He explains why he doesn’t want you going back to the counselor’s until they find out who is leaking info since they all signed legal papers promising not to share anything discussed or seen with anyone but the officer handling your case.

You tell Henry you understand and give him a hug and thank him for protecting you and looking out for you. He nods and the two of you enjoy the rest of your hike. You spend a couple hours just walking arm in arm and talking quietly. The trails are quiet this time of day and there aren’t very many people on it. The ones that are, leave the two of you alone.

Henry asks if you’d like to go have some fun and join him to see a movie tonight with some of his friends and their girlfriends, who have been badgering him to hang out. “I think we just need to have some fun hanging out in a group setting, nothing but having fun and making some new friends for you. Think you’re up for it?” He inquires You grin and nod.

He calls them and they agree to meet up at the movie theater. The two of you head to the car and go back to the trailer to change and head out. You all have fun and are teased about the two of you ‘just being very good friends’. His friends joke about ‘friends with benefits’ but Henry shuts them down with a glare when he sees you get quiet and start to retreat inward. “It’s nothing like that.” he says, “She’s my co-star and has been going through a rough patch after being raped by a co-star, and I’ve been helping her get through it.” he explains. They immediately apologize and stop teasing.

The rest of the night is fun for the two of you as you all decide to go bowling after the movie. The guys’ girlfriends and the group decide to do guys vs girls. They are a hoot, and you enjoy the banter between everyone, laughing yourself silly. The girls tell you that you’re welcome to come hang out with them any time and they give you their phone numbers. You thank them and continue to tease the guys who are trying to bowl.

The girls end up beating the guys, but only because the guys were getting drunk and the girls weren't. You and Henry call a ride and head home, Henry being plastered and you sober. You giggle at his antics and help him up the trailer’s narrow steps. He stumbles into the trailer and you close and lock the door.

“Come on, big guy let’s get you to bed.” you tell him. He looks at you with glassy eyes and says, “I wish you’d join me and be mine. I love you, Y/n.” you stare at him for a moment stunned. You tell yourself that it’s just the alcohol talking and you blush and tell him. “You know I can’t do that right now Big Bear, we are almost done shooting and then it’s the PR junket. Then we’ll see how we feel after all that.” you remind him. He leans down to kiss you, but you step away and drag him to the bedroom. You help him strip down to his boxers and then get him into his bed. You stand by the side of the bed after tucking him in, and kiss his forehead. “Go to sleep big Bear. You’re gonna have a headache in the morning.” he sighs and closes his eyes. “Love you, Kitten.” he mumbles as he passes out.

You chuckle, “Love you too, big Bear.” you whisper back, brushing his mop of curls out of his face. You sigh, “Nope, that wasn’t the alcohol talking. Now what do we do?” you wonder, and head to your makeshift bed in the living room. Sitting down, you try to work out your feelings for Henry. Yes, you love him, but in what way? Do you want to risk the close friendship for something more when this mess with the movie is all over? How would dating him end up working when he’s a big name actor and you have no idea if or where your path will lead should this film spark your career in acting further. You heave a big sigh. At least your bruises were pretty much gone. You feel better physically and though you still struggle with interacting with men when Henry isn’t around, it’s getting easier. Rich and the other male cast members and crew have been very good to you, and continue to encourage you and treat you kindly and with respect.

You look down at your phone and see that Henry’s publicist has messaged you. You open her texts, and she tells you that you two were spotted at the bowling alley and the pictures are on the internet. You frown and text her back. Asking what the problem is. She sends you a couple links and your eyes open wide when you see them. They are insinuating that the two of you are dating and were in a love triangle with your costar and that now the two of you are out celebrating the costar’s arrest.

You text her back that you both were simply having fun bowling with Henry’s friends and their girlfriends and that he made it abundantly clear with them that the two of you were just very good friends and NOT dating. It was definitely not celebrating the arrest of your costar and that there was absolutely no love triangle going on. That you and Henry are NOT dating and are NOT having sex and you never wanted to date nor have sex with Dan either.

She calls you and the two of you talk and she asks if you and Henry have recently gone to a hiking trail. You tell her yes, because of what happened at the counseling center and Henry needed to cool off and wanted to talk, that the two of you went to one after being mobbed this morning. She hums. “I think someone put a tracker on his car then. Because the paparazzi showed up soon after you arrived and were looking for the two of you, they got a couple pictures of his car, but must’ve left before the two of you returned. Don’t let him drive the car anywhere until we can have one of the police officers come and search for a GPS tracker on it.” she instructs you. you tell her it got left at the bowling alley since Henry got too drunk to drive home and you can’t drive a stick shift. She chuckles and tells you she’ll have an officer bring it back to the studio lot once it’s been checked for the tracker.

You frown and ask her why would someone be doing this to the two of you. She says she isn’t sure, but they think your personal assistant is making money off of feeding info about the two of you to the press and paparazzi. You ask her why your PA would do that. She tells you that when they looked into your PA further, they found out she was a HUGE fan of Dan’s and had been pissed when he started showing in interest in you and completely ignoring her. So, she set him up, telling him you wanted him and were just playing hard to get. Which is why he didn’t back off. She’s now pissed he got canned and you didn’t so she’s trying to cause trouble for you.

Henry’s publicist asks you if you’d be willing to help her set a trap for whoever is feeding the info. You tell her you are, and she tells you her plan and tells you the police are willing to help catch the person.

You two decide to set the plan in action in two days since it’s yours and Henry’s only day off for the week as you two are in the final push for filming. She said she will let yours and Henry’s Agents know of the plans and have her make lunch reservations for the two of you at a trusted restaurant Henry likes, “to discuss the Press junket plans”.

She says that the only ones who will know are you, Henry, her, his agent, the officer working your case and the restaurant’s manager, who they know won’t reveal his reservation. The day before, she tells you to let it slip to your personal assistant of the lunch plans at the restaurant. She tells you to do it where no one else will hear. Then, if the paparazzi appear, the police will go after your personal assistant and hopefully that's it for leaks, since they found out your counselor was also feeding info to the press and is now being sued by the studio on your behalf, for breach of contract and breaking client confidentiality. She tells you that the counselor will lose her license and never be able to practice because of this.

You ask who will be your assistant then, if yours is leaking info. She says the studio already agreed that you and Henry will share one for the rest of filming and PR, and she will get a raise since she will be helping the two of you if this hunch is right.

You yawn and thank her for her help. She tells you to have a good night and you both hang up.

Laying down on the bed, you struggle to fall asleep. You sneak into Henry’s room and grab the t-shirt he had worn earlier today. You brought it to your nose and smelled it. Grinning because it smelled like him, you take it back to the couch and pull it over your pillow. You wrap yourself in the comforter and snuggle the pillow and fall asleep pretending it's Henry.

More chapters to come…

Please reblog and share if you like this story so far! Please and thank you!!!

Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from this taglist. If your tag has a line through it, Tumblr isn’t letting the tag work.

Tagging the cavillary & crew: @dancingwendigo @littlefreya @iloveyouyen @achaoticaugust @thatdem0n @cherry-acid @connieisland @kandomeresbitch @captainbigdy @mary-ann84 @chamomilebottom  @thelastsock @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @viking-raider  @raspberrydreamclouds @when-in-doubt-eat-pizza  @kissthatlifeaway @madbaddic7ed  @beckster07890 @sage-willow-raven @allememaggies @aletheladyinred @princess-of-riviaa @amandalove @heyyassbutt @nerdypinupcrystal @wondersofdreaming @taylorinthetardis @kmuir1 @henrythickcavill @cavillsbestgal @hinata7346 @indigosaurus @purplelove75 @eldarwen333 @rangergirl71 @luclittlepond  @rowandor @contentobsessor @henrycavilledits@capsheadquaters @criminaly-supernatural @henricavyll @henrycavell @designerwriterchic @delicatecelebritiesarthairdo @angelofthorr @madbaddic7ed  

#VERY good friends #henry cavill #henry x reader #PROTECTIVE HENRY #kitten and the bear #set up #framed #jealousy #crazy fan #stalked #paparrazzi #drunken confession #oops im rambling #now what? #went bowling #went to a movie #not a date #out with friends having fun #press twisting the truth #pr needs to step in #breach of contracts #no more counselor #naughty greedy bastarts #PR to the rescue #to catch a leaker

[bssaz97]

Fun Times #1

*Atlas Academy, Recreation Room*

The RWBYNOR group have been experiencing a problem that many Huntsmen experience from time to time....boredom. They had no missions as of late and everything else was pretty much run of the mill errands to do. Something that they all either didn’t want to do or found too tame. The door to the rec room opens and comes in Jaune Arc with frizzed hair and a ‘STOP’ sign he got from his babysit- er, primary school voluntary work. He took a look at the room around him and found a spot to sit at on the end of a couch, in between RWBY and NOR. He sat down and sets the sign on his lap.

Yang: ....Ok I’ll bite, what happened to you Vomit Boy? Did those kids become rascals and tried to climb you like a tree?

Jaune: Pff, I wish, the kids were fine. It’s the mothers of those kids that I had to ward off.

Ruby: Wait what? Those ladies are still giving you trouble?

Jaune: (Rubs his face) No, it’s not that, they’re actually very friendly. A bit too friendly. I swear I had so many of them trying to ‘thank me’ for taking care of their kids that it’s really starting to get on my nerves. I think I’ve been given so many casseroles from Mrs. Lars that it’s starting to pile up in the fridge faster than we can get rid of.

Ruby: Well have you tried I don’t know......telling them to back off or that you’re not interested in their advances.

Jaune: I’ve thought about doing that but I’m worried that if I do that and they take it the wrong way, or maybe they aren’t trying to flirt with me and were just trying to be nice in a over friendly way and they’ll look at me like I’m the one getting the wrong idea.

Nora: Mmm. That’s a good point, a lot of ways they could spin it to make it seem you’re the bad guy. Thirsty moms are a scary thing.

Ruby:(Murmurs) I’ll give 'em something to be scared about....

Jaune: What was that Ruby?

Ruby: What? I didn’t say anything. I was....thinking about that casserole that you mentioned. I’m gonna go get some! (Saying the last statement very tightly then left for the kitchen)

Oscar: So, I’m gonna assume we’re going to be having casserole again for dinner?

Nora: Looks like it. I gotta say, I loved the idea of you getting more attention from the ladies because of the new haircut, but now it’s starting to become old. I miss eating other food!

Blake: Maybe we can go out somewhere to eat so that we have something to do.

Weiss: Actually that does remind me of something. Winter said that the academy was going to be holding a ceremony for a class reunion for older Atlas graduates that she’s going to be attending this evening. Perhaps we can go there.

Oscar: Wouldn’t you all need clearance for that from Ironwood?

Weiss: Nonsense, the event is open to all the Atlas students and hunters, besides it more of a formality for old friends to reacquaint with old peers.

Blake: Well that could be fun. What do you think Yang? ....Yang?

She turned to see that her partner was locked on to her scroll and was having a content smile. Yang looked to be texting someone when all of a sudden she feels a nudge on her shoulder. Yang looks away from the screen and sees everyone’s eyes looking at her inquisitively.

Yang: (Closes her scroll) Haha! Sorry guys you were saying?

Nora: Well.~ You seemed in a good mood, who were you texting?

Yang: Hmm. Oh! I was just reading a message from a pen pal of sorts.

Weiss: Pen pal? I wasn’t aware you had kept in contact with any social relationships outside the rest of us.

Yang: Well Weisscream, I’m sorry to disappoint but I do have a life outside of you all and saving the world. Plus you can’t tell me talking to the same people everyday doesn’t sometimes get on your nerves.

Weiss: Hmm. Fair point. So who are they?

Yang: Oh they’re called Nunya.

Weiss: ‘Nunya’? That’s a interesting name.

Yang: Yeah and their full name is Nunya Business!

Weiss: What kind of name is.....Hey wait a minute!

The other remaining friends starts to laugh at the expense of former heiress. While on of the more intellectual of the group, slang was still foreign to her.

Weiss: Alright! Alright! I get that I walked myself into that one. Sense you are not willing to reveal the identity of your friend Xiao-Long, I will not pry any more.

Yang: Great. Glad to hear Weisscream. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go to the dorm.

Blake: You’re not going to the ceremony with us?

Yang: Sorry Blakey but I’m gonna be flying solo tonight. Miss me too much you guys!~

With that Yang left the rec room and was out of sight from the group.

Jaune: Well sense she’s gonna be doing her own thing, maybe we should try going out someplace fun. Be nice to spend with people my age than moms and kids. By the way is Ruby back yet? She’s been in the kitchen for awhile.

Ren: I’ll check. (Walks from couch to rec room Kitchen) Ruby were you able to-

Ruby is seen looking at a burning pile of what smelt of casseroles in a trash bin. She looks at Ren and they make eye contact for a brief moment before he slowly backtracked his steps and made his way back to the couch.

Ren: Just checked with Ruby, turns out we’re out of casserole. Went bad.

Jaune: Dang it! I knew we wouldn’t be able to finish them before they spoiled.

Ruby:(Coming back from kitchen) Welp! Since we’re out of food, I vote we go do something fun! Maybe we could get Penny to join along.

Weiss: I think she maybe too busy attending the ceremony with Winter as she’s a Atlas representative.

Ruby: Oooohhh yeah. Bummer.

Jaune: Hey Ruby how about we all go see that new movie that we’ve been seeing on the posters lately?

Oscar: Can I come along?

Ruby: Oh, sure I don’t see why not? Jaune?

Jaune: Yeah that’s sounds good the more the merrier!

Oscar: Yes!

Nora: Well you can count us in too! Beats going to a snore fest like a social event. (Grabs Ren and wrapped her arm around him)

Weiss: Well I guess that just leaves you and me Blake.

Blake: You know actually I noticed that the Atlas library had a book that really seemed interesting to read-!

Weiss:(Grabbing her via summon arm) Oh no you don’t! I refuse to attend this event by myself, and you’re the only one singled out by everyone here. So dare try to weasel your way out of this!

Blake: But-! Books!

Weiss: (Dragging her friend to the exit of the rec room exit) They aren’t going to grow legs and run away, they’ll be there when we return.

Blake:(Whimpers)

Soon both W and B of team of their group left the rec room leaving only five of the eight friends by themselves.

Jaune: Guess that just leaves us. Kinda funny, this may be one of the first times we’ve had a chance to hang out as team RNJR.

Ruby: Wait really?! ....oh yeah! Oh this’ll be great then, this will be just like when we had time to relax during our time in Anima!

Nora: Oh yeah Team RNJR is back baby! Wait a minute, we have Oscar with us so that does kind of chance the name a bit.

Ren: So what should we call this arrangement then?

Nora:Hmmmmmmmmmmm.

Jaune: Guys we don’t need necessarily a new name for the group, we’re just going to see a movie, not fight a final boss Grimm.

Ruby: Besides, it’s just like Jaune said, doesn’t matter what we’re called. As long as we’re together. (Smiles)

Nora: Yeah you’re right. I’ll think of something later. Anyway let’s make this night a killer!

Ruby/Jaune: Yeah!

Ren/Oscar: Yeah.

*RWBY Dormitory*

Yang entered the room and sighed. That was a close one, she almost didn’t think they would let her leave that easily. Before she could think about the matter further she felt her scroll vibrate as her friend had messaged her once more. She opened the scroll to view the message.

White_Knight: Are you still up for tonight? I didn’t rush you too soon did I?

White_Knight: I could always reschedule!

Sun_Dragon: Nah . You’re good, just my friend was trying to be nosey.

Sun_Dragon: Anyway, you still want to go see that new horror flick that’s out now? Heard it’s supposed to be intense.

White_Knight: Most definitely. I’ve reserved private seats for us on top where we won’t have anyone being ‘nosey’ as you say it.

Sun_Dragon: Really?! Dang I thought reserving a seat was hella expensive on primere night!

White_Knight: Never to fear, I have good connections so the seats are very much legit.

Sun_Dragon: ....bet?

White_Knight: On everything.

Sun_Dragon: Geez Knight, keep tryin’ to impress me and you might get yourself a girlfriend by the end of the night cutie~ ;-)

White_Knight: I like to impress my dear. But let’s keep it slow before we start talking about relationships. Or you might come off as desperate ;-)

Sun_Dragon: Ok see you tonight <3

White_Knight: Can’t wait! <3

Yang smiled after the chat with her pen pal. She originally started talking to Knight after download Instaspam on her scroll when she took that selfie with Blake. Originally she got a lot of likes for how the two looked like a cute lesbian couple but she put a plug on that real quick. While she and Blake we’re getting back to better times, she wasn’t really interested in starting a full on relationship with her partner. Kind of brought bad thoughts about her own family dynamic so that was a no-no. Of course she did lose a few subs for the apparent ‘queer baiting’ from some of the ruder people on the app, but others were actually glad that she made the clarification early on so that people wouldn’t make inaccurate assumptions.

It was actually how she met Knight, through a personal message saying how brave she was to tell the truth and not to take the fake friends words seriously. Yang was a bit suprised about the message so she thanked him later and one thing lead to another and they were talking almost everyday whenever she wasn’t on missions. She got a look at his profile and it looked like he was a music enthusiast and played multiple instruments like the piano and violin. She of course teased him of being a nerd for apparently liking classical music for being a young man. However to her suprise he sent her a link to one of his tracks of his music and while not of fan of classical, he was very good at playing piano covers. He didn’t have a profile picture so she asked if she could send her a picture, she had to be sure he wasn’t a creepy old man or something. To her suprise he did send a picture. Granted he was wearing a hat and a pair of glasses but he definitely looked young. Maybe a bit too young. She was a bit uncomfortable about this little tidbit about Knight, but she knew he was definitely only two years younger than her.

Yang’s sisterly instinct was too let Knight know that he shouldn’t try to flirt with girls older than him but the more she thought about it....it couldn’t be that bad. They stayed only as friends and besides casual teasing it wasn’t anything excessive that would send people the wrong message. So she kept in contact with him. Besides her own sister had a massive crush on a guy two years her senior so it wasn’t that bad. Besides Knight was a nice guy, always polite, never vulgar or tried to ask for body shots of her. What really got her was his respect for women. He apparently had a family mostly consisting of women so that put some insight. So Yang was very glad that Knight didn’t turn out to be a creep. Who knows, maybe she might give him a reward if this first outing goes smoothly.

Yang: Guess I’ll see you tonight Mr. Knight.~

*Schnee Manor*

Whitley has been rereading the chat for the past two minutes and couldn’t believe how far Sun_Dragon and him have come from complete strangers to good friends. He originally gotten Instaspam as a way to entertain himself and share his musical taste to other musical enthusiasts. When one of his recommended came up one day and he saw a picture that immediately took his breath away. That was when first was introduced to Sun_Dragon. He saw at the time how people were bashing her for the honestly miss assumptions about her relationship with a friend. He couldn’t believe how others could be so ignorant and uncouth behavior they were treating the poor dear. He normally doesn’t try to engage in these types of topics but he knew he needed to say something that would let her know that not everyone was like these wolves who just enjoyed to harass her. From their their interactions developed then blossomed into the first genuine relationship he’s ever had.

Truthfully if he had to say, Sun_Dragon may have been his only friend. A friend that he had grown especially fond of. Whitley tried to reason that he was only had a small crush because of her majestic beauty, but soon he began to realize that he found everything about her wonderful, her personality, her casual attude and her plain honesty she told. He had never met a more genuine person than Sun_Dragon. The only problem he was worried about was if his age had worried her some, because being a underage minor made some who were female admirers scared off because of fear of being called a pedophile. However she seemed not too worried about the age gap as she was only two years older than him. That made his whole day when she told him that. Whitley was content for the most part with the screen conversations they had but soon he desired to step up the pace, to meet in person. Whitley was sure she would turn down his advances but surprisingly Sun_Dragon favored the idea as well and now brought him to this moment. In a mere few hours he will meet the woman of his dreams. So naturally he only had one response.

Whitley: YES!!! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes yes, yes! Whitley you’re a genius! Oh my gods! Thank you! Oh......this is officially the best day of my life.

So yes, he was excited.

*Trying something different just a bit of a side story, not canon to anything just a spoof or omake if you will. More for comedy than anything. Hope you all enjoy!*

#rwby lancaster #lancaster #ruby rose x jaune arc #ruby rose #jaune arc #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladona #nora valkyrie #lie ren #oscar pine #whitley schnee #rwby frozen dragon

[wandering-lounge]

An idea I thought up while reading this:

“Honestly Angel, whos this guy again? you trusting strangers cause they give you dick?” Cherri shot out.   Black dust nestled in the cracks of the  grey, dilapidated, so called, “sidewalk”. Cherri Almost rolled an ankle earlier from nearly a whole segment was removed.from what must have been a crash. The sky of dead crimson radiated red light on the two.

“Dont worry bout it shuga tits!” Angel said calmly. “I’ve known this guy for a while.” Angel reached into his fluffy ‘breasts’ grinning pulling out a flask sipping it to warm him up for the afternoon. “Besides, he asked me about you for a while. and i thought, ‘ey! we should all hangout!’ good times n all! I think you might like him.”

“So this was all your idea?” Cherri said. “oh thats right! Hes that dude with the weird-ass bar right?”

“you know it! I got there form time to time. we talk all the time.-”

“amongst other things” Cherri interjected with a shrewd expression.

Angel giggled, “we shared a lot over the past.. uh year? two years?”

“Oh? Sharing? What do you know about him?” Cherri questioned with a grin. Grinning in a way as if she knew. To which Angel was sure she knew.

Angel, whore of hell, gettn’ steady with a questionable deadbeat that only he, and Cherri know about. Seems legit.

“Your tune will change like a live tuna fish dropped into a fryer as soon as you see his diggs. My treat”

“since when do you treat me?” Cherri wasnt complaining, getting paid drinks is always nice, weather its by charming wiles, or gunpoint. it was all the same. But Angel? this felt very different for her. 

“so youre like, his only customer right?” Cherri continued.

“what? no? I don’t think so?”angel looked uncertain.”I mean he says he visits all sorts of shit. hes seen tons of people and he even told me that some people have come over to his bar in this hell. He was braggin one day that he once got That shitty news ancha’-” Angel’s brow was furrowed as he snapped his fingers. “you know. that uh, slutty bitch. uh.. Cathy?” 

“Katy? The news anchor Katie killjoy?”

“Yep! thats her”

“that sounds like bullshit.” Cherri laughed smiling even more. despite this guys dubious background, Cherri could see something in his eyes. Her worry was replaced by a warm feeling. Something’s different about this guy. Something thats making Angel happy.

Shattered glass and splintered wood framed an immaculate door. completely out of place on the front of this one store front. 

Cherri looked over to Angel, her brow was curled in a confused manor. She looked back to the front door, The windows were shot out, and she could see inside of the shop, holding all matter of messes, rocks, and garbage. but as she looked over tot he door. It had stained glass resembling an eye on the front. light poured out of the window and glowed from the seams in the door.

“Uh... This is the place?” If Cherri was uncertain before, she definitely felt it now.

“o-yeah.” Angel exclaimed on his cheerful bouncing steps to the door. He knocks gingerly and rhythmically. He bounces in place as hands run thourgh his hair and fluffed his bust. 

A dark form shifts behind the lightened door. Cherri thought the stained glass shifts for a moment. But then the door swings wide open. before she could see anybody a warm voice rings out.

“Angel! Whats up!?”

Cherri watched as the door slowly opened inward as her eye caught a simple looking blue eyed, pink demon smile looking up towards Angel. Angel throws himself to the guy.He gives him a stroke of his beard. While giving his ass an audible spank in the process.

“EY! fucker!” He laughs to Angel’s shenanigans..He looks over to Cherri. “Oh! you must be Cherri! come on in!” Peeling Angel off of him in the process.

Cherri walks into the door only to look inside and not find the piles of rocks and shattered glass she was expecting. The walls were a warm dark brown with red lined seats and a long bar standing in the middle of the room as she entered in. Wooden staris carved to flow so well its as if water itself sculpted it with his tender care. She could see the upstairs have rooms and more booths. Her eye shot back down and saw an entertainment area behind the bar, as well as a staircase downstairs behind the bar with a quaint little sign, ‘employees only.’ the sign gave off a subtle glow of power. there were hanging lamps on every corner. and one above each booth. each giving off a dim orange light. 

“What the fuck?!?”

Cheri shot back to Angel dust to have all six arms pointed with guns. A silhouette of a man sat at the end of the bar only to echo back.

“By what trickery is thissss?!”

Sir Pentious shot up hood extended pulling a ray gun out in response. 

“what the hell is HE, doing here?” Angel growled.

The demon got between them first before walking over to angel. His tone became tense and clear. “put the guns away, gentlemen” He looked over to Angel. “In order to be Served here, theres only a few set of rules you must follow. ‘No fighting, no weapons, no service.’” He looks over back to sir Pentious. “that goes for EVERYBODY, regardless of stature or, “feuds” or whatever you may have.

Angel’s eyes looked back to the pink demon. after murmuring to himself and uttering words under his breath. Angel, actually put his guns away. ‘what the fuck?’ Cherri thought. ‘he fuckin put his guns away! he actually fuckin did it.’ Cherri looked on this fuckin broadway show in disbelief.

“Cherri, bombs too please” Pink boy said calmly. 

She did. Sir Pentious on the other hand held his gun out with conviction. 

“HA! I still have mine” he giggled, 

A shadowy shape erupted out of the floor and swiped over the snakes hands.

His hands were stripped naked. The pink demon twirled around the ray gun like a toy in his fingers. “no guns. thank you” He smiled.

Sir Pentious huffed, “I don’t need the company of such. LOAATTHHHSOME Heathens!” he slinked off of his seat and wiggled over to the door. 

“alright then.” Angel smirked, “the bar is ours then.”

Sir pentious scoffed, “Ill be back!” he shouted outside of the door. 

the pink demon tossed back the raygun through the door. “have a good night Penny! Please come again.” not a trace of sarcasm was felt in the demons statement.

the door closed on sir pentious. He had his raygun back! he can storm the bar with ease and with surprise! He sprang back tot he door, gun in hand. swung it open and...

the inside was covered in rocks, glass, and garbage. it was a small room with nothing to offer, and no souls to be found.

Angel laughed out loud. “I cant believe you service that guy with your goods.”

The demon laughed, “well, he pays... unlike some demons ‘round here.” He smirked sarcastically eyeing up Angel.

Angel giggled, pulling him in close, “im paying off my tab.... Eventually” Angel traced his lips with his finger

Cherri hadn't moved since she entered. what the fuck was this place, what the fuck is this bar doing inside of a small shit shack in satans backyard? What the fuck?

the pink demon walks over to Cherri placing a hand between them. “yo, my names Arty. good to meet you Cherri.” 

She grabbed his hand and shook it. It wasnt hard grip that her hand was met with. it was soft and warm. she looked him up and down. ‘yeah he is kind of cute’ Cherri thought to herself. 

“So!” Angel leaned onto arty’s head. “That stinky snake is out of our business finally. Fours a crowd anyways. How about we start this night off with some of those, potions of yours?” A grin stretches wide on angels face.

Arty’s face flushes a little. I do happen to have some new ones for you...

#writing #my writing #arty #mod #angel dust #Sir pentious

[jenni42085]

Nervous <Two>

Chapter 2

Chris and Lena pulled up to Marylea’s house. Despite being incredibly nervous about lunch with Chris, Lena was actually able to relax and let her guard down. 

“Sorry to keep you out late. But did you at least have a good time?”

“Honestly, yes. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to have an adult conversation without worry about little ears listening or having to stop every so often to make sure she is ok.”

“Well, I’m glad to give you a little break. I can’t imagine it’s easy doing it all alone.” 

Chris could only imagine all the stuff she has had to deal with on her own. It probably doesn’t help with having anxiety. But if she is able to have a good time maybe it will help easy her. 

“It’s not all that bad but I wouldn’t change the feeling for anything in the world. She is a good baby.”

“That’s good to hear. Can’t wait to meet her.” He replies. He doesn’t want to let her go but knows she spent most of her day on a plane and should have some bonding time with her bestie. “So tomorrow what are you doing?”

“Probably sleep. Why?”

“Well if Marylea is working all day. I can keep you company and do some cheesy sight seeing.”

Lena’s eyes grow slightly larger, she wasn’t expecting that. “Ummm. Sure.”

“I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to just figured we could continue to hang out and I have nothing on my schedule. It’s kind of boring to be home alone all day.”

Hearing his reason Lena slightly regrets her reply to an innocent question. “No, that sounds like a good idea. Just nothing too early. I have a feeling Marylea will wanna do some drinking so yeah. Might be slightly hungover.”

“Gotcha. Are you a party girl?”

“Maybe back in the day. Once I got married and had Eevee, that feeling kind of went away. You know?”

“Understandable. We all have those party animal moments right?”

“Exactly.”

The pair grew quiet thinking about how they both use to party hard but have grown up and stopped acting like children. 

“Can I have your phone to put my number in?” Lena smiles and hands her phone over to Chris. “So I’ll call or text around 10 ok?”

“Awesome sauce.” Without thinking Lena leans over gives Chris a quick hug and small peck on the cheek and runs inside before he could open the door for her. “Bye” she yells from the front door before walking inside.

What a woman, he thinks as he pulls off.

********************************************

“Well, well, well, look who finally decides to come home?” Marylea says as she gets up from the couch. “Were you guys making out?”

“Funny but no. We just had lunch at a small restaurant and talked. A lot.”

“Talked? That’s it. You went out on a date with Chris Evans and all you did was talk?”

Lena gives Marylea a look. “Yes. Just talking. Sorry that I didn’t bang him on the first date.”

“Just kidding. But it’s good to know you had a nice time.” Marylea replies as she opens up a bottle of wine. “So do you like him or like him like him?”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“You are avoiding the question.” Marylea hands Lena a glass of wine. “I’ll ask again when you are tipsy. I mean he isn’t my type but I’m not dead. He’s gorgeous.”

Lena takes a few sips of wine and kicks off her shoes, planting herself next to Marylea on the couch. “I don’t know if I like him like him. I honestly just met the guy.”

A few hours and drinks later. . .

“So he is sexy. But I doubt I’m his type.”

“Why would you say that? He legit picked you! Stop selling yourself short. You are worthy of happiness.”

“I feel like I already had my happiness with Ezra. I don’t know if I need or deserve someone else.”

Marylea looks at her friend like she is crazy. Lena had changed a little bit after meeting Ezra. Even though Lena would never admit it but he could be slightly verbally abuse and make Lena think no one else would ever want her. Hearing her best friend say that broke her heart. “You and I both know that isn’t true. You are worthy of all of it. Hence why I set you up with him.”

“You really think I’m worthy of Chris freaking Evans?” Marylea nods at her; Lena shrugs and picks up her phone. “Ok. Fine. I’ll text him then.”

“Wait, you’ve had his number this entire evening and didn’t tell me or anything?”

“My bad?” Lena gives her a tipsy smile. “What should I say?”

“What do you wanna say? And isn’t a little late?”

They both looked at the clock. 2:45 in the morning. It was a little late or early however you look at it but Lena has a look of determination. “I’ll just thank him for the lunch and I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Boring but ok. When do you plan to see him again?”

“Tomorrow hopefully.”

“Oh really now.”

“He figured we could do something since you have to work.”

Marylea takes a shot of tequila and make a funny face. “Well isn’t that super sweet.”

“Hater.”

Marylea throws her hands up in the air. “Hey now. I wasn’t hating just saying that it was sweet. Especially considering you were just to do a few events with him.  Nothing more or less.”

“Ma’am I don’t think I like your tone or where you are gong with that comment.” 

Lena replies taking a shot of tequila.

“Just saying he might like you like you. With his PENIS!”

Lena looks shocked but happy at the possibilities. “Shut up!” She squeals as she throws a pillow at her friend, Marylea dodges the pillow and sticks her tongue out at Lena. “Do you think he might like me with his penis?” She asks in a humorous whisper.

“You never know if you don’t try to get to know him. Meaning don’t blow him off tomorrow.” Lena rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "I know he hasn’t been gone long but I highly doubt he wants you to be alone the rest of your life. Just give him and the whole experience a chance.”

“I know and I will try just makes me nervous. You know? Plus being out here with no clue what all they offer makes me feel like he is all in control of the situation. So it just makes me slightly tense.” Lena stretches out in the king size bed and starts to unwind.

Marylea props herself up on her elbows and looks at her friend who is slowly fading fast to Dreamland. “I’ll sign you up for some dance classes. I know it has been a while since we did one but we can try one out. Oh and don’t forget about the photo shoot I sat up with my friend.” She waits for a reply but sees her friend fast asleep with her cell phone in her hand.  She takes the phone out of her friend’s hand and sees that she hadn’t even hit send on the message to Chris.

 “Lena?” With no reply from Lena, Marylea decides to give Lena another little push in the right direction of happiness. She adds a few more lines to the text and hits send then, covers Lena and herself up with a blanket. Just like old times. She thought to herself, she has missed her friend and these moments that have helped them bond and grow. God please let them work out, I need her out here permanently. It’s been forever since she talked to God but figured at this point she could use all the help she can get.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Chris wakes up at his usual time thanks to Dodger, he loves that dog and his ability to wake up at the same time every day no matter where they are. He lets Dodger out and does some stretches. While his cup of tea is brewing he looks at his phone and catches up on the news and gossip. When he glances at his messages he has a few from friends but one from an unknown number, before blocking the number he decides to read the message.

Thanks for lunch yesterday. Hope to see you again today. 💋

Seeing this message makes him smile a bit. Glad to know that he can still connect to females. He wants her to not only have a good time in California but wants her to enjoy her time with him. He knows it’s only been a day but he likes talking to her. It’s been so long since he has met someone so real and honest that it makes him want to keep her smiling and laughing. He sends her a quick reply then makes a quick call.

“Hey Marylea. Did I wake you?”

A sleepy Marylea answers on the first ring, “Hello? Chris? It’s not even 7am. What do you need?”

“Umm yeah everything is ok for the most part. I just wanted some intel on Lena. Like you know what kind of breakfast she might like or favorite flowers.”

The questions that were asked didn’t fully take Marylea by surprise. She was right when she told Lena Chris liked her. It’s good to see that he is moving so quick to make things go smoothly with her. “Do you like my best friend?”

A small pause happens because he isn’t fully sure how to answer the question. “I think she is a great girl so far. I might like her. I just want to know she likes me back.”

“Interesting… well for breakfast I already got her favorite bagels and cream cheese. But she does love daisies, so if you surprised her with those she would be ok. But you should look at some of her social media to get a better idea of what she likes and I don’t know continue to talk to her to get to know her.”

Chris chuckles at Marylea’s last comment. “I know. I talked to her a lot last night but, I just wanted to have my best foot forward and show her I think she’s pretty awesome. But anyways I’ll let you go. Is she still asleep?”

Marylea looks back at the king size bed to her bestie knocked out still. She doesn’t think she has gotten much sleep or at least a night without interruption since being the only one there for Eevee. “Yeah she is still a sleep. But Chris one more thing before you go.”

“What’s that?”

“If you hurt her, make her cry, or do anything other than make her smile I will promise to end you. She is my best friend and deserves only the best and that was why I volunteered her to escort you to a few gigs. Don’t lead her on, she doesn’t deserve that. Understand?”

“Loud and clear. I just want a friend or maybe more.”

“Ok. Good now I’ve gotta get finished dressing for work. I guess I’ll see you later.” She says cheerfully after changing her tone, “And one more thing. Hello Kitty.”

“Hello Kitty?”

“She adores anything and everything Hello Kitty. The rest of her obsession or ‘hobbies’ as she calls them you will have to figure them out. Buh bye.”

“Bye and thanks so much.”

Click.

With that Chris started googling flower shops that had daisies and starts looking at how to make today a great day for them both.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Marylea knew she shouldn’t threatened him but at the same point she didn’t really care. Lena was honestly like the only real family she has even if they aren’t blood. She knows if it was the other way around Lena would have said that and more. But on a positive note Chris has a crush on her. She smiles and does a little happy dance as she grabs her keys and heads for the door.

“Marylea? Are you leaving?” Lena groggily asks as she lifts herself up from the comfortable bed.

“Yeah, I’m heading out. Bagels are in the fridge. Tylenol on the nightstand just is case you are hungover.”

“Aren’t you?”

“A little bit but I can get through it. I’ve gotta go but, have fun with Chris today.”

“Ugh! You had to remind me of that. I just wanna sleep.”

“Nope, you already agreed to today.  Maybe it will be an easy day but in a few days you have a photo shoot to do for Andre.” Marylea saw Lena’s eyes open up more when mentioning a photo shoot that she hadn’t told her about yet. With that pause she took that as a sign to leave. “We can discuss that tonight over dinner. Love you mean it.”

Lena falls back into bed and sighs. What have I gotten myself into? She then looks over to her phone:

Had a great time also. Text me when you wake up. Got some fun plans today. :)

Seeing that text made her smile a little bit. She can’t remember she woke up to a text from someone, probably not since her and Ezra were dating years ago. It was a small message but the act still made her smile.  She won’t admit to anyone including herself that she might have a small crush on him. Part of her feels like admitting that  means she doesn’t love Ezra anymore which isn’t the case but she knows he can’t come back. 301 days. She is hoping that as time goes on it will be better.

It’s only 7am she calls her parents to check up on Eevee while making herself breakfast. Her parents let her know that Eevee was doing just fine. She decides to shoot Chris a quick message and let him know that she would be ready in the next hour or so. 

With that she takes two Tylenols then heads to the shower. She realizes that she forgot to ask him how to dress so she figures jean shorts and a white tank top would work. She decides since her hair is still straight she would do her hair in space balls.

She hears the doorbell ring and looks at the clock. Wow he wasn’t joking about wanting to see me. Opening the door she is greeted with a huge bouquet of daisies. 

“Oh my! These are beautiful. How did you know these are my favorite?”

“A little bird told me.”

“Would this birdy happen to be my bestie?” She asked giving him a curious look with one eyebrow raised.

“I can neither confirm nor deny. . .”

“Fine be difficult. So what are the plans for the day?”

“Well I was thinking of going to a café.”

“A café?” She asks with a questioning look.

“You don’t like the idea?”

“Didn’t say that just hoping our full day won’t be spent at a café.”

“Ohh no never. I figured it would be a good way to start the day, then maybe hit a few shops up to find you something for the charity dinner.”

Charity dinner. Thinking of what is to come slightly makes her uncomfortable but, she knows she needs to do this. What’s the worse that can happen in all honesty? You have a great time, meet new people, have fun experiences, and maybe fall in love. LOVE. That seems slightly foreign to her. It has been 301 days since she has been in love. Maybe it has been enough time to at least play with the idea of finding a new love. She has hated going to sleep alone and waking up alone. “OK let’s go!”

The two get in Chris’ car and head down the interstate. Lena enjoys the warm breeze as they are cruising through the city. Chris admire her from the side as she is quietly taking in her new surroundings. He can’t help but think she is beautiful.  She doesn’t wear any makeup minus some chap stick but still manages to look amazing.

They finally arrived to a large bright pink RV as soon as they see it Lena’s eyes grow wide and she squeaks out, “Hello Kitty Café!? Oh. My God! I’ve always want to go to it but they never come to West Virginia or anywhere near me.” Lena hasn’t been this excited about anything for her in a while. “This is sooo amazing.”

“You are really excited about this. Aren’t you?” He replies with a chuckle as he puts the car in park. She’s out of the car before he shuts his door, she standing there bouncing up and down looking giddy with happiness. With out thinking he grabs her hand as the go to stand in line with the other patrons. Her body tensed at first when he grabbed her hand but he stroke her hand with his thumb and she quickly relaxed.

“I’m super excited! This is like totally awesome!” She gets slightly distracted by the menu of things to get.

In no time they are in the front of the line, Lena still hadn’t figured out what she wanted so Chris figured he would surprise her even more. “Good morning ladies, I called ahead and I believe you put stuff aside for me and my lovely date.” Hearing the label of ‘date’ made Lena blush slightly.

“Ohhhh it really is you! And yes, we put one of everything to the side like you asked. Can we have your autograph pretty please?” The perky clerk asked as she had another girl run to get the bag full of goodies. Chris nods as the girl and few others run over to him to get his picture. Lena politely walked off to the side so they could get his picture. “Can we have a picture of you and him together? You guys look so cute together. Plus you guys are matching.”

 Shocked by the fact neither had looked at the other’s clothes they realized they did in fact match. Both wore white tank tops and jean shirts with Converse, hers were Hello Kitty and his were solid black. They both had sunglasses on, the main difference was she didn’t have a hat on unlike him who is sporting his favorite NASA hat.

“Sure why not.” Lena shocked herself with how easily she replied at being ok with being photographed with him. I guess I need to start getting use to it. Chris pulls Lena closer to him and puts his arm around her waist while her hand lays on his chest.

 “Awww you guys look so cute! What’s your name? How long have you guys been going out?”

 Lena looks at Chris nervously praying that he will take the lead and answer questions. She isn’t sure what to say other than the truth so she hopes that when he answers it will set the tone of how things will always be for them.

 “This is Evangeline, and we this is our first official date. We just met through friends yesterday. Hate to cut this short, but I want to give her a great first date.” With that Chris grabs her hand once more as they head back to the car with four bags packed full of Hello Kitty merchandise.

 Beaming Lena gives him a bright smile as she pulls the plush Hello Kitty from the bag. “That was awesome! Thank you so much for this all! I can’t believe you got me one of everything.”

 “Well I looked at your Instagram and was trying to figure out what you did have but I figured this was easier. Are you happy with it?”

 “Most def am I happy about it all! Like look how cute this is”. She shows him the bow shaped water bottle and squeals. “So where to now? If there is a place that can really top of this awesomeness.”

 Chris chuckles and places his hand on her knee and gives it gentle squeeze. “This probably won’t be as awesome as the Hello Kitty cafe but it’s still pretty good.”

 Silently Lena gives him a confused look because she was curious as to what their next adventure would entail. They pulled up to a small bright blue building no words were on the building just large glass windows with mannequins with beautiful gowns on them.  “Where are we?”  She asks as he opens the door for her.

 “CHRISTOPHER!”  A small lady who resembles Edna from the Incredibles comes speed walking up to them with open arms. 

 “Edna!”  Chris greets her with the same warmth that she gives him.  “How are you?”

 “Ohh I’m good.  Same ole’ same ole’.  You know how it is.”  Edna stops when she realizes there is someone else with him.  “And WHO is this lovely lady?”  Edna takes a good look at the brown eye beauty. 

 Chris snakes his arm around Lena’s waist causing her to blush slightly.  “This is Lena.  We need a dress for tomorrow night.  Nothing to flashy but something  . . ..”  He trails off then looks down at Lena trying to sum up how he wants he to look.  “Beautiful.”

 Edna watches how the pair enacts with each other.  She isn’t sure if they are dating or not but they will be soon.  Generally, when Chris has a lady to take with to events they are family and the ones who aren’t have their own designer they would want rather than Edna.  Interesting. “Well hello.  What is your style?  Favorite color?  Are you opposed to heels?”

 “Hi.”  Lena says going to shake hands but Edna give her a hug with the same warmth she gave Chris.  “I’m not a glamour girl by any means.  I’m a mom.  So I guess boring girl next door.  I’m ok with a basic black gown, but not heels.”

 “I’d venture to say that you aren’t boring on any level.”  Edna says while Chris slyly nods his head.  “But here try this black gown on.”  Edna hands Lena a long black  plunging v-neckline and draped-knot waisted gown.  While Lena takes the gown and go to the dressing room; Edna goes into the back thinking she has the perfect dress for Lena. 

 Lena looks at herself in the gown before stepping out.  Wow I look basic and boring, but this is me now.  I guess.  “What do you guys think?  It’s a little loose but it works.”

 Chris and Edna look at each other giving each other the same look.  Chris knows how blunt Edna is so he opens his mouth to say something but Edna beats him to it.  “I don’t like it on you.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “I. Do. Not. Like. This. On. You.”

 Lena looks at herself in the huge mirror.  “Why not?  You made this; I thought I looked ok.”

 Chris intervenes before Edna would open her mouth again and possibly hurting Lena’s feelings.  “What she means is that it doesn’t flatter your figure.”

 She looks slightly defeated.  “Well what should I wear then?”  Tears threaten to fall down her face.  She refused to let them see her cry.

 He could see the difference in her body language. He hurt her. “It’s ok. We will find something better.” He grabs her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

 Edna watches them interact and realizes that she was a little bit too blunt with her reply.  “I didn’t mean to say I don’t like it on you, just that it doesn’t look like it is truly your character deep down.  Come sit.”  Lena joins Edna on the velvet blue couch, seeing that they are about to have a moment he walks outside to return some phone calls he has missed.  “Lets just be bluntly honest right now.  You don’t like it very much either.”  

Lena looks down cocking her her head to the side. “It’s not that I don’t like it. . . I just feel like I’m not really Hollywood material.  I don’t know what he or anyone wants of me.”

“Have you met Chris?  He isn’t Hollywood on any level.”

“I know but ...”

“No buts. He likes you. A lot. He might not have told you yet but he does.  You are beautiful and a mom but you can do both. Trust me with your dress ok?”

 “Ok. I’m going to trust, but what do you have in mind?”

“This.  Now go try it on before he comes back.  I want you to just be yourself and more importantly, love yourself.”

********************************************

“So let me get this straight. You didn’t want to take a family member to the charity dinner so you asked Jeff to find you someone. And now you are now ‘dating’ a random girl.”  Scott says. 

Chris runs his hands through his hair. “Wow you make me sound like a desperate asshole.”

“You said it not me.”

“Look it’s not like that, well not entirely. She was volunteered by Jeff’s assistant and I like spending time with her so far. I’d like to date her maybe. But...”

Scott cuts his brother off. “But what?”

“I don’t know if she likes me. Like she has been through some stuff. I don’t want to pressure her, even if I feel we would be great together.”

“Welp brother of mine. Give it time and do baby steps.  I mean if she let you hold her hand and such I think she is on board. Just baby steps.”

“Gotcha. Well I’m going to go inside and see what Edna has her in maybe something to really show her body off more.”

There was a pause. “You left her with Edna?”

“Yeah why?”

“Nothing just go back to see what she has her in.”

#chris evans #chris evans x black reader

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 20

Warnings: none really

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @valkyrie-of-the-light

She stares at the cellphone in her hands; trying desperately to keep back the flood of tears that threaten. Tears of worry. Sadness. Relief. Anger, even. And frustration. So much frustration. That he’s been sent into yet another shitty situation.

 It’s willingly.  Offering himself up for people that don’t even know him, putting himself into harms way like some sort of sacrificial lamb for strangers that…for the most part…don’t understand the choices he has to make on their behalf. The danger he puts himself in. The lives he has to take. The way that he’ll have to escape death just trying to keep them alive.  Most never express thanks: very few of those who are rescued -and even less of their families- ever offer up even the smallest bit of gratitude. He’s being paid, they figure. He’s taking the money. Isn’t that enough gratitude?

“Mommy?” TJ is at her side, looking up at her with those huge blue eyes. One of which is going to be black and blue in a few hours; Millie had caught him square in the face with a right hook.  A knee to the face causing a bloody nose.

“Let me see…” she sets her cell phone down and hooks a finger under his chin, tilting his head backwards. “She got you pretty good, huh?”

He nods, not even flinching when her fingertips press against the swollen orbital bone and the bridge of his nose.

Definitely his father’s son.

“Well nothing’s broken,” she says, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

She’s tended to many of her husband’s injuries. Seen a lot of bloody noses and black eyes and a hell of a lot worse. Fractured ribs, both stab and gunshot wounds.  She’s pulled shards of glass and other debris out of his skin with a pair of tweezers. In Dhaka she’d stitched up a wound on his right bicep with a needle and run of the mill sewing thread. Without anything to dull the pain.  And she’s seen the aftermath of shoulder and knee replacements; the one that would clean the incisions and apply fresh bandaging when homecare nurses weren’t able to make it.

He holds up a sandwich bag with near melted ice cubes in, and she takes it to the sink and dumps it out before adding fresh cubes from the freezer and tying the bag up tight. “Does she look worse than you?” she asks, as she presses the ice to the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t hit her back, mommy. She’s a girl.  Daddy said never to hit a girl. No matter what. That it’s wrong. Did daddy ever hit you?”

“Daddy knows better. He knows I’d drop him. But he wouldn’t do that, anyway.  He’d never hit any girl. Especially me.”

“I’d beat him up. If you did. Just so you know.”

She leans down and presses a kiss to his lips.  “You keep the ice on it for a little while longer, okay? Just to keep the swelling down. You’re going to have a hell of a shiner tomorrow. You’ll get to show that off to daddy when he video chats with you guys. He wanted me to tell you that he’s safe and sound in Ireland. And that he loves you and misses you. He misses you so much.”

“I miss him too. Maybe he won’t be gone for very long.”

“Maybe. Hopefully. Here…” she takes his hand and places it against the back of ice against his nose. Then moves to the freezer once again and takes out three popsicles. “One for you and Tanner and one for Ovi. Can you ask him to watch you guys for a little bit longer? There’s something I need to do. Someone I need to call. Can you ask him, please?”

Her son nods, then turns his face up for another kiss.

“You’re my favourite,” she says with a wink, and pecks his lips. “And be careful out there, please. I don’t need you breaking an arm or a leg. Or a neck. Just take it easy, okay?”

“Okay mommy,” he chirps, as he rushes from the kitchen. Nearly colliding with the glass patio door that he’d forgotten he’d shut behind him.

“Tyler…” she sighs. “…really?”

“Ooops,” he giggles, then gives a shrug as he hurries outside.

She stands over the sink and watches him through the window, bounding across the deck in his bare feet, leaping from the top step and hitting the ground running. The landing never even breaking his stride; those long, lanky legs carrying him through the grass to where Ovi is pushing Declan in the baby swing and Tanner in the regular sized one.  TJ begins handing out the popsicles and explains to Ovi what she had asked, and the teenager looks up towards the house and gives her an okay sign.

***

Picking up her cell phone, she flips open the cover of the case and plucks a business card from the inside fold.  She wasn’t planning on hanging onto it; she’d taken their conversation at the park as a one off and was going to just throw the card away and get on with her life. Satisfied that she’d been able to give him the absolution that he’d desperately searching for. Finally able to put that long and dark chapter of her life behind her.

Instead, she finds herself dialling the number, leaning sideways against the counter as it rings on the other end. Nervously drumming her fingertips against the granite, tapping one foot against the floor.

“Are you busy?” she inquires, before he even manages to get a whole greeting out.

“Esme?” Shocked. But pleased.

“I really need to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes? I wouldn’t have called you if this wasn’t important. If I didn’t think you were the right person to go to.”

“I’ve got some time to spare. Anything for you. You know what. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Tyler’s in Ireland. On a job. And I don’t trust the person that he’s working with. The one that asked him for his help to begin with. I need you to look some things up for me. I’d do it myself, but with four kids to manage on my own…”

“Let me just grab a piece of paper and pen…” there’s a slight rustling noise as he searches for the items in question.  “…go ahead. What is it?”

“I need you to look up the name Michael McCann. M…C…capital C…A…N…N…”

“Got it.”

“He says he’s ex IRA. I’m worried he’s still active IRA. That should be available info, right?”

“Should be. There’s always articles about those guys. They’ve been a little quiet the last couple of years, but there’s bound to be something. You know what his role was? Or might still be?”

“By the sounds of things, he might have been…or still is…some kind of intel. An inside man. He knows a lot of secrets. He’s done a lot of dirty work for them.  He might still be doing dirty work for them. That’s what I need you to find out. I need to know what this guy’s story is. The real story. Not the line that he’s been feeding Tyler.”

“Is he falling for it? The line?”

“No. I think he’s starting to realize that something isn’t quite right.  None of this is sitting right, Mark. It’s leaving a bad taste in my mouth. He is not who he says he is. He came to Tyler for help. He suddenly just showed up in Telluride one day. Said he’d even followed him while he was in Guatemala.”

“How did he know Tyler was in Guatemala?”

“There’s someone giving him information. Someone that works for Nik. I haven’t even started to look into that yet. But I will. This guy says that he tracked Tyler down through me. That he’d heard about what happened in Dhaka and somehow my name got out there as being connected to it. Which is weird, because Nik said she kept that on the downlow. I don’t even have a personal file with her. I was a ghost. I didn’t even exist as far as the outside world was concerned.”

“The worldwide web is vast, Esme. You can find information on anyone. And if he heard your name and somehow connected that to this Nik…”

“He told Tyler that someone I used to work with told him my name. Which makes no sense because how would that person even know I was in Dhaka? And how would they tie me to Tyler? We weren’t married then. I still had my maiden name. So where would they get Esme Rake from? It makes no sense.”

“Well they’ve gotten it somewhere. Information is easy to find if you know the right people. And have the right amount of cash.”

She sighs. “I suppose so.”

“This guy just showed up? In Telluride?”

“He asked Tyler for help. Said that his wife and his kids were taken by the IRA. Had videos of them and everything. All bound up, beaten to shit. I didn’t see them. Tyler watched them. He said they were legit. And Tyler’s instincts are never wrong. He’s being doing this a long time. He knows when something is bullshit. He would have known right away if it was just a game. He doesn’t just jump blindly into things.”

“Could it be some kind of elaborate ruse? It isn’t unlike terrorist organizations to do pull out all the stops. It could be someone that is after Tyler. Someone that feels slighted. Someone he crossed paths with or got the drop on.”

“Tyler says he’s never dealt with the IRA. He’s never even been to Ireland. Until now.”

“Doesn’t mean someone he’s pissed off doesn’t have connections to them. Strong enough connections that they’d do a favour for them. Loyalty runs deep, Esme. And money runs even deeper. I’m sure Tyler’s pissed off a lot of people. Not that I don’t agree with what he does. Because I do. I’m quite fond of vigilantism myself. I admire him for taking on other peoples’ shit and doing the dirty jobs no one else wants to do.”

“So what do you think?” she asks, as she moves to the fridge, opening it and taking out a bottle of water. Fingers briefly lingering on the wine before changing her mind and shutting the door with her hip. “Sounds weird, right?”

“I’ve heard weirder, to be honest. Could be something. Could be nothing. I’ll look into it for you.”

“Off the books, right?”

“What do you mean? What…?”

“Mark, I know what you do. My mom told me. I know you’re FBI.”

He sighs.

“You didn’t have to keep it a secret. It’s no big deal. So you’re a Fed, so what? This means you have connections, right? You have ways of finding out shit that normal people wouldn’t be able to do? And you must know people that know people. People that have even farther reach and deeper connections. Right?”

“Esme…”

“This is between the two of us. I do not want this getting out there. And I especially do not want Tyler finding out. Not yet. Not until you dig something up. If there is anything to dig up. Can you do that for me? Everything off the books? Between us?”

“I can. I probably shouldn’t. But I can.”

She sips her water, glances out the window and watches Ovi and the kids are they feed the chickens and goats. “There’s something else.”

“Go ahead.”

“I know this is a lot to ask of you. So feel free to tell me to fuck off.”

“I’ve gotten myself in this far. Might as well jump right into the deep end. What is it?”

“Do you know anyone in Ireland? And by that I mean people like you. Feds. Ex Feds. Ex Marines even?”

“I know a couple. Why?”

“If I send you Tyler’s info…his cell number, his SAT number, where he’s staying…can you get someone to monitor all that?”

“Doesn’t he have his own people keeping an eye on him?”

“An extra pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt. I just want someone to watch out for him. He’s going into this alone, Mark. With nothing but the word of this McCann guy to go on. If something goes wrong and Tyler’s people can’t reach him or find him…”

“You’re really stirring the shit pot here. I highly doubt he wants you doing all this. What’s going to happen when he finds out? Because he will. Find out.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Please Mark. I need your help. And I know you can do this. This isn’t easy for me. Asking for help. Especially from you. And it can’t be easy for you either. Me asking for help for something that involves my husband.”

“It’s a little…awkward,” he admits.

“He saved me, Mark. In every way a person can be saved. My life was so different after we broke up. I was in a really dark place that I didn’t think I’d ever get out of. That I didn’t know if I really wanted to get out of. I became a completely different person than the one you remember. Tyler came into my life at a time where I needed someone the most.  And it shouldn’t have happened the way it did. It was stupid and it was dangerous, and it never should have gone down like that. But it did. And I don’t regret it. I don’t regret falling in love with him. Or staying in Australia. Or getting married and having kids. His kids. You said you just wanted me to be happy.”

“I do. That’s all I want, Esme.”

“Then help me. Please. Because I can’t lose him, Mark. I almost lost him once. And this time I don’t want to lose him for good. I need your help. And that’s what would make me happy.”

He sighs heavily. “Send me the information. Email. I have an account on a protected server. I’m sending you the address now.”

And with that, he disconnects the call.

 *****

Tyler’s not sure how long how he’d been asleep for. After devouring three orders from room service and opening up another bottle of scotch, he’d stretched on one of the beds to watch the local news. Fully intending on staying up in case Yaz had already gotten to work and was able to dig up some information to send him.  He’s still lying on his stomach in middle of the bed; fully dressed, sheets and blankets not even turned down, his cell phone lying next to him, feet up by the headboard. Jolted awake by a sharp rap of knuckles upon the door.  

His head swims: a mixture of booze and the painkillers he’d taken after he ate.  A dull ache in the base of his neck as he places his chin on the forearm he’d been using as a pillow, eyes blinking against the harsh light of the cell phone screen within the dark room.

12:53.

His time? Colorado time? He doesn’t even know anymore. It couldn’t be the latter. Not if it had already been one in the afternoon when he spoke to Esme. He was tired; but he wasn’t THAT tired. There’s no possible way he’d sleep that long. Even with the help of meds and alcohol. And he’s pretty sure he changed the time on his cellphone. Or maybe it had done it itself.

He clears sleep out of his eyes, rubs at the back of his neck. Internally yells at his muddled and disoriented brain to get shit its shit together.

The knocking continues. Louder. More insistent. And he attempts to ignore it, switching positions on the bed and resting his head back on one of the pillows. The smooth cotton of the pillowcase cool against the back of his head. Eyes closed; hands clasped together at his chest. Knowing if he just stays quiet, whoever it is will just fuck off and leave him alone. Whatever it is, it can wait until the morning.  And he’s just beginning to nod off again when he hears whispering from in the hall; Irish accents, two female, one male.  One of the female’s asking the other two if they’d seen the man that he’d checked into the room. Had he left sometime in the middle of the night? If he did, do they know if he came back? He can’t make out the reply, but there’s a heavy sigh followed by more knocking.

It’s louder. More intense. A different sound than what knuckles make against wood. The dull thud that ensues when you use the toe of a sneaker or a boot.

His eyes snap open and he reaches for the top drawer on the nightstand, quietly pulling it out and then slipping the Glock from the holster. Flicking off the safety as he slips off the bed and silently makes his way towards the door. Pausing with a hand on the deadbolt as he listens; trying to pick up any hints of a conversation or any other noises coming from the hallway. Palm resting against cool, smooth wood as he peers out the peephole.

She’s young. Twenty at the most. A simple grey hoodie and blue jeans. A ball cap pulled over bright red hair. Carrying a purse along her left forearm, cell phone in her hand. A file folder clasped in her right.  She pounds at the door now, slamming her fist against it with all the power she can muster.

He holds the Glock down at his side, opens the deadbolt but leaves the chain across. A foot against the door, preventing her from trying to open it further.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“Are you the Australian?”

“Yeah, I suppose I am. Answer my question now.”

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

 “Why?”

“Because I have no idea who the hell you are.”

“I’m Erin.”

“Erin what?” he presses.

“Ferguson.”

“What the hell do you want, Erin Ferguson? It’s almost one in the morning. How’d you know who I was? Where to find me?”

“A lot of people know who are,” she says. “You’re the Australian. Here to get Michael McMann’s wife and kids back.”

He smirks. “Word travels fast. Who’s they? And how did they find out?”

“They. As in the people who have them. The people who took his wife and his kids. The people who are watching your wife and your kids.”

Tyler’s blood runs cold. Hand tightening around the Glock. “What did you just say?”

She cocks her head to the side, a smirk curving her lips. “Can I come in now?”

“No. Whatever you have to say, you say it right where you’re standing. What do you mean they’re watching my wife and my kids? The IRA?”

She nods.

“Why?”

“Because you’re sticking your nose in other peoples’ business. You don’t belong here, Australian. This isn’t your fight. If you knew what was good for you…for your family…you’d leave. Right now.”

“If you knew what was good for you, you’d stop talking in riddles. And you’d know that I have a loaded gun behind the door and my finger is already on the trigger. So stop the bullshit and tell me who you are and what you want, or I won’t think twice about putting one between your eyes, you hear me?”

That wipes the smirk off her face.

“Who are they” he repeats. “The IRA? You’re working for them?”

“I work for a lot of people,” she says. “They asked me to give you this. As proof.”  She offers the file folder.

“Proof of what?”

“That they aren’t messing around. That you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in something that you never should have wandered into it.  What goes on between them and McCann is their business. Not yours.”

“It became my business when McCann hired me. So you go back to whoever you’re working for and tell that their games won’t work on me. I don’t scare easily. And it’s them that’s gotten mixed up in something they don’t want to be mixed up in. I don’t fuck around. I’ll find his wife. And his kids.”

“And the risk of losing your own?”

“They’ll never get near my wife or my kids. They can try. But it won’t happen. You tell them I said that. And you tell them that if they so as much go near my family, I’ll come after them personally. And they won’t like the results. Tell them that. You tell them exactly what I said. That I’ll bring them within an inch of their lives and then I’ll stop and start all over again. You got that?”

She nods, shoves the folder toward him.

“Put it on the ground,” he orders.  “And then back away. Nice and slow. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

She places the folder on the carpet and does as she’s told, hands up as she slowly steps backwards, until she’s almost pressed against the door across the hall.

Tyler removes the chain from the door and pulls it open, casting a glance down both ends of the hall, keeping the Glock pointed at her. “Now go. Move. To the elevator.”

She walks backwards; hands still up, eyes never wavering from his. She never blinks. Never shows any signs of fear or nervousness with a gun trained on her.

“Press the button,” he orders. “Get on when the elevator gets here. Go back and tell them exactly what I said.”

He waits, gun still focused on her, until the lift finally arrives and she steps on. Not picking up the envelope and backing into his room until he hears the elevator doors slide closed and he knows she gone for good.

***

He hurriedly snaps the deadbolt back in place; refastens the chain and then stalks across the room. Tossing the gun into the middle of the bed and tearing at the envelope; splitting it down the middle as opposed to the flap or the seams. His heart pounds mercilessly in his chest; stomach clenching and brain swimming with a thousand different thoughts. None of them good.  And the frowns when he finds two smaller envelopes inside of the first. Each one marked with the words PROOF OF LIFE.  One dated two days ago, one just this morning.

What the fuck…

He rips into the most recent one first. Photographs. Of McCann’s wife and kids.  The kids are no longer hog tied and restrained on a filthy mattress. Sitting in crude metal chairs, hands and feet bond by what he easily identifies as rock climbing rope. Both kids are naked from the waist up, most likely so whoever views the pictures grasps the extent of what’s been done to them: bruises covering the entire rib cage, finger marks from wrist to shoulder. There’s dried blood on their face: caked under their noses and around the corners of their mouths. And the skin is raw where the duct tape over the eyes had been cruelly ripped off.

He feels sick. Bile rising in his throat.

The wife is in far better condition. But still bears the marks of her ordeal. Her hair has been crudely chopped off; chunks missing, the edges just skimming the bottoms of her ears.  Unlike the children, she’s in a wooden chair that’s in remarkable condition; polished, a clean, like new cushion. Bound only by her wrists. He frowns at that, holding her picture and one of the children side by side. It makes no sense. Why the children would be in such inhumane conditions while she…despite the hacked hair job and her own bruises…is still in pretty damn good shape. Normally the kids are treated better than the adults; it’s easier to beat on and torture adults, as they’re in far better condition and can take a hell of a lot more punishment before death finally takes over.

Photos still in hand, he wanders around to the side of the bed and grabs the SAT out of the drawer of the nightstand. Pressing three on the speed dial.

“Yeah?” Yaz simply greets.   There’s no hint of sleep in his voice.

“Did someone just come to your door?” Tyler asks.

“I was just going to call you. A girl came here. Looking for you. Said her name was…”

“Erin,” he finishes.

“Yeah. I take it she found you? I wasn’t the one who told her. I acted like I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. But she obviously knows me. She talked about Dhaka. About me flying the helicopter that got Ovi out. She kept going on and on about how ‘they’ know all about us being here. About you being the one that killed Asif.”

“Well technically that was your sister. What else did she say?”

“Just kept calling you The Australian. Says that ‘they’ know all about us. All about you, especially. About Esme. And the kids.”

“Fuck…” he mutters. “…what the hell? How’d this get out so quick? How’d they know we were here?”

“I don’t know. I have no clue.  I was going to call Nik after I talked to you. Maybe we’ve got a mole on the team. Someone is feeding them information. What did this girl want with you?”

She gave me pictures. Of McCann’s wife and kids. Proof of life as of six hours ago.”

 “How they look?”

“Kids are fucked up. Wife looks pretty good though. What’s her name? The wife? We have any information on her? Maiden name, anything like that?”

“First and married name. That’s it. Why? What are you thinking?”

“Something isn’t right here. Why are they being held in different spots? When was the last time we ever saw that when we had multiple marks?”

“Never.  Not in the ten years that I’ve been doing this, anyway.”

“The kids have been worked over pretty good. Whoever sent these wanted us to see that. Just how fucked up they are. But the wife? Worst she has is a shitty hair cut and some bruises. The kids are being kept in some shit hole and she looks like she’s just been tied up for shits and giggles in someone’s dining room.”

“You think we’re being played?”

“Yeah. But I’m not sure by who. You find out everything you need to know about the wife. Like right now. Don’t wait.”

“I’m on it,” Yaz says, and hangs up.

Tyler drops the SAT into the middle of the bed, followed by the photographs, then reaches for the second smaller envelope. Pausing before he opens it, stealing himself against what he knows is inside. He’d known as soon he saw the first selection of photos. Hell, he’d known as soon as Erin had brought up his own family.  He also knows that it’s a scare tactic, that whoever is behind their existence is hoping it will cause him to give up the search for McCann’s wife and kids in favour of returning to his own family.  The chances that someone will actually hurt Esme and the kids are slim to none. That’s not what these people want. Their endgame isn’t to hurt him. Just scare him enough to send him running home.

He tears into the paper, dumping a handful of polaroids into his palm. His heart once again pounding ferociously, ever muscle and tendon in his body suddenly tense.  Hands remarkably still despite the trembling travelling through the rest of his body as he flips through the pictures. Ovi and Mille going into the ice cream shop, Esme and Millie while out of their girls day, him and the boys while leaving after their getting their hair cut, the entire family out together for dinner, him and Ovi at the shooting range, Esme and him, alone on that hammock in the backyard.

Fuck…fuck…fuck…

He grabs his SAT once again, this time calling Nik.

“Yaz just called. Talk to me.”

“They know, Nik. Whoever has McCann’s wife and kids. They know who I am and why I’m here. How the fuck do they know?”

“I have no idea. Yaz thinks there’s a mole on the team. Someone who has access to all your files.”

“Just how many people is that?”

“Half a dozen.”

“For fuck sakes, Nik! This was supposed to be kept quiet. McCann knew I was in Guatemala. He said he followed me for the entire week I was there. Now whoever has his wife and his kids know who I am and why I’m here. Explain to me how the fuck this happened?!

“I’m working on that, Tyler. You’ll have answers as soon as I get them.”

“I have pictures, Nik. Pictures of my wife and my kids. Even pictures taken in my backyard. What the fuck is going on?!”

“They’re trying to scare you, Tyler. They’re trying to force your hand. They want you to back out and go home. Don’t give in to them.”

“You get someone to my house,” he demands. “I don’t care if you have to go there personally. You get someone there to keep an eye on my family. I’ll stay here. I’ll see this job through. But you get someone to my place, Nik. Now. Not an hour from now. Not two hours from now. Not six. Now.”

“I’m already on it. What do I tell Esme? Do I tell her about the pictures?”

“No. Just tell her that you think it’s better that way. To have some folks there. That you sent people ‘just in case’. That will be good enough for her. At least for now. Don’t even tell her that I talked to you. None of this ever happened as far as she’s concerned.”

“Do you really think McCann’s wife has something to do with this?”

“I don’t know. Everything is fucked. Right off the hop this time.”

“We should call it off. I should just bring you and Yaz home.”

“The job’s not finished. We haven’t even started it.”

“The job is fucked, Tyler. We’ve lost the element of surprise.”

“Doesn’t mean the job can’t go on. I’ve got this under control, Nik. At least on this end. You just make sure that my family stays safe. Because if anything happens to my wife or my kids…”

“They’ll be fine. I’ll personally make sure of that. Keep your head on straight, Tyler. Don’t let them win.”

“I’ve got shit locked down over here,” he assures you. “You just make sure you do the same thing over there. Take care of my family, Nik.”

“I will,” she promises. And ends the call.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #chris hemsworth character #sanctuary #extraction

[pivitor]

Help, I have emotions (aka the dating update I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for)

So, it’s been about a month, I guess, since I signed up for OKCupid and started legitimately dating? I have a lot of emotions! I need to get them out! So you get, basically, a diary post from me. Things might get very mildly NSFW, not because I’m trying to brag or broadcast these guys and mine’s business, but because it’s important to the stories, and because it’s my blog. I’m hoping this helps me figure some things out, or exorcise some things, or something.

So, there’s been about eight different guys I’ve chatted with. There’s a cute doctor who was really dull to talk to and ghosted me. Twice! One guy who was actually from Delaware! We talked for a day, he didn’t see my response to his last message for four days, and then when he did read it, didn’t respond. Either the very first or second guy I talked to ended up being a cop; thankfully, he had basically already said that we were too far apart to date (”If you lived closer, I’d totally ask you out”), and just started trying to talk here or there, so it was easy to end that one painlessly. None of those situations bothered or upset me.

One guy I talked to quite a bit, a young guy who works in a lab in Philly, and I liked him a lot and wanted to actually go on a date with him, but we’d been talking maybe a week and a half by that point? And we had talked about going out several times and neither of us had actually made the move to schedule something? On my end, I just had a hellish schedule for a bit, and I had one more date I was trying to slot in, and then once I know when that was going to be, I was going to ask him out. Literally the day I was going to ask him out, he stops replying to me (and then posts a subtweet about how unfortunate it is that he’s attracted to men). I think I waited too long, which I feel bad about :( He still follows me on Instagram, though, which is awkward.

There’s this other guy I’ve been talking to, I’ll call him “S,” who is REALLY cute. Physically, I’m into him perhaps more than anyone I’ve talked to. But he’s ended up being a pretty boring to talk to. He lives almost two hours away, so I initially talked about coming down to meet him, but then as time passed and I realized that he was kinda boring, I was less enthused, and I haven’t initiated conversation with him in a while, but he’s still been messaging me and talking about meeting up. So it was definitely time to either meet up or call things off completely. This Sunday coming up I’m heading not too far from him to see a concert anyway, so I told him I’d come down around lunch time and we could hang for a few hours and see what happens. I’m not expecting much out of it, but maybe he’ll surprise me. And if I end up calling things off, at least I can say I gave it the good ol’ college try.

But there’s been three guys I’ve actually gone on dates with so far, and have really liked all of them. So, of course, that’s where things get complicated. I’m going to start with this guy “J.” He’s a park ranger in Philly, and I really enjoy talking to him, both by text and in person. I think he’s interesting and knows how to hold a conversation. He’s cute too, but after our first date (where we met for dinner and walked around the city a bit; I had a very nice time) I wasn’t sure how much physical chemistry we had; we were clearly into each other, but there was no kiss or anything, and only very mild flirting by text. He has more dating experience than me, but not much, so I think we’re both pretty hesitant sometimes. It took about two weeks to go on another date with him, and by the time we had the date, I had kinda assumed we would end up being just friends, and was fine with that, to be honest.

The second date started out pretty awkward. We had dinner and walked around the city again, but we only had two hours of parking where we were, so had to wrap things up pretty quickly. I was hoping he would want to go somewhere else and continue the date for a little while, but all of a sudden he sprung on me “oh, here’s my car!” and it legit startled me, and I was too thrown to suggest going somewhere else, and he didn’t either and just said “I’ll see you next time!” And we did a hug goodbye that was awkward because as soon as it became a hug I got a vibe “oh, that should have been a kiss” and got really self conscious. So it ended awkwardly, and I felt dumb, and I drove over to the Barcade because that’s what I do when I have time to kill in Philly, and/or when I’m feeling down. He ends up texting me as soon as I get there saying that he had a great time but thought that I seemed a bit disappointed, so I explained to him how I had hoped it would last longer, and he admitted that he had wanted to kiss me at the end and wasn’t sure if he should, and I agreed that I had wanted that too; long story short, he drives over to the Barcade too and we have a much nicer date over there, a really nice conversation then about twenty minutes of making out in a booth. I gotta say, public making out is very bizarre, but I enjoyed it haha.

So the next day and a half or so we have some really frank conversations about sex and what we’re looking for in relationships and all that. He admits that he’s having trouble choosing between me and another guy, and I say I’m basically doing the same thing (except he’s one of three). We all but say we’re going to have sex with each other soon. And then, three days after that second date, he texts me to tell me that he asked the other guy to be his boyfriend. So it wasn’t out of nowhere, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen that quickly! And right as I was really starting to get attached to him. I’m not going to act like two dates and a month or so of conversation is an epic romance, but it still hurt, especially the fact that he chose somebody else over me. But I also freely admit that he did nothing wrong, and if he was trying to find a boyfriend that quickly, he probably made the right choice. If he had asked me to be his boyfriend instead, I don’t know if I would’ve said yes. But, y’know, it still hurt.

We agreed to stay friends, and then the next day he texts me to say that he’s having second thoughts -- this is his first boyfriend, and he’s starting to feel like he lost his freedom (”On the first day?!” I reply back). He eventually says that he still wants to have sex with me, and is thinking of trying to open up his relationship. I’ll admit, it was tempting, but I could also see that it was a mess and I probably dodged a bullet. I told him to figure things out with his boyfriend before he started asking me about it. And he drops it. Then yesterday he brings it up again (and basically asks in a way that says “I don’t think much of open relationships but”), so at that point I tell him off. Maybe if he had already been in an open relationship when he met me, or if he had approached us both to say “I wanna date both of you” I’d have been into it. But the way he did it made me feel like an afterthought, a second choice, like he was trying to have his cake and eat it too or like I was a doubt he needed to get out of his head before he could fully commit to his boyfriend. I told him it made me feel shitty and I didn’t want to be a part of it. And to his credit, he immediately apologized, said he was selfish (a word I didn’t use, so he brought that on his own), and agreed we’d really just be friends from here on out, and he told his BF everything he had asked me and how I’d responded and apologized to him and they decided to be monogamous. So, bittersweet ending I guess.  

Except it’s still got me a little fucked up. Why does one rejection stick in my craw more than all the compliments I’m getting from the two guys I’m still talking to who really, really like me? Honestly, part of it was just that I really thought we were going to have sex. I still haven’t had sex -- J and I only kissed, “N” and I have made out a lot and he sucked me off a little, but he doesn’t have sex unless he’s in a relationship, and “P” and I have done pretty much everything two guys can do up to actual penetrative sex, so based off that and a convo we had today I’m thinking it will happen next time I see him, but it’s going to be two more weeks before I can see him again. So thinking about J having sex with his boyfriend has really got me down and frustrated. Not even because I want to have sex with him, just because I want to have some goddamn sex already, and he’s having it and I’m not. And I realize that’s petty. But that’s how I feel

Him having “settled down” also has me anxious about N and P, the other two guys, and ones I liked more than J from the start, despite my last five paragraphs lol. N lives in Philly, and we’ve gone out four times now. He’s made it clear that he’d love to date me and that he’d be my boyfriend in a heartbeat, but I have to be the one to ask at this point, because he’s brought it up multiple times and I’m basically saying I’m not ready to make a decision yet. N works in a pharmacy but is a brilliant chef who made me a homecooked meal on our first date and it was some real romantic comedy shit -- I was midsentence as he cooked and he turned around, kissed me, and said “I’d been wanting to do that all night” leaving me in an amazing daze. N and I click really well and basically spend our dates playing video games, eating, and cuddling/making out (which I love doing with him) while we watch anime, and it’s really nice. He lives with one of his best friends and her family and they’ve all really welcomed me into their lives. He’s such a kind, generous person, who I make blush fairly often, and vice versa. I could see myself dating him.

But he also describes himself as a functional alcoholic. He smokes, which I hate, but he only does it outside -- the bigger issue there is the vaping, which he does inside. It makes him taste great when we make out, but IDK what it’s doing to my health (I always feel hazy when I leave his place, but I don’t know if it’s the smoke or that I’m generally leaving really late), and I don’t like being in even the faint smoke all the time. I need to talk to him about it on our next date, but I could see it being a dealbreaker. He’s also not a great texter. We have no problem talking in person, but our text convos are pretty sporadic, I haven’t quite cracked the code to them yet. That’s not the end of the world, but I’m going to have to figure out some way to talk to him between dates if we’re not texting because having that form of communication is important to me. He knows about me growing up in a cult (all three of these guys did/do, actually) and that I’m not out to my family yet and says he’s fine with it, but I don’t think he really *gets* it and is a little frustrated that I haven’t been able to stay the night yet. I am too, admittedly and obviously, but the pressure when I’m in a really complicated situation is a little much sometimes.

P, meanwhile, is a personal trainer and music teacher. We text pretty much all day every day, some of it legit conversation, some of it just silly bullshit, but it’s fun and makes me happy. He took me to a trampoline park on our first date, and out to a terrific brunch, and we have just as easy a chemistry in person as we do by text. He’s very zen and has an intriguing outlook on life that I appreciate. He’s not religious at all but does consider himself spiritual and he’s the first person who has made that distinction appealing to me. And we have electric physical chemistry. I am just so attracted to him, and apparently, vice versa. I won’t get into all the details, but things went way further, way faster with him than I expected (I’ve done more with him than I’ve done with anyone else), and I loved every minute of it.  Again, I could really, really see myself dating this guy.

The biggest problem here is the distance. He lives about 1 hour and 45 minutes away. It’s not the worst distance by a long margin. I drive that fairly often, and have considered dating guys who live that far away before. But it’s still a big complication, especially this month, when he’s non-stop swamped conducting two school plays, and also while I’m still living at home, which means he can’t come down to visit. I’m not sure how to navigate it yet, especially as we go further into the future. IDK if I would want to live in his town, if it came to that -- It’s nice, but I want to live in Philly, and I’d be even further from Philly there than I am now. Would he ever wanna move, even though his family, his students, and the business he built for himself are all in that town? I dunno. Those are probably questions for further in the future, but they have me really anxious.

It’s probably too early to be trying to “choose,” but I’m feeling that pressure from multiple directions, some more legit than others. I purposely haven’t matched with anyone else on the app or tried talking to anyone new because I wanna resolve things with my current batch of guys before I do. Honestly? I wish I hadn’t met them all at the same time. N and P are both great guys and I’d have dated either of them, and I feel shitty that choosing one means dropping the other and not getting that chance. But I’m going to try to be patient and get to know them both better, and maybe my path forward will become clearer as I do.

Anyway, that’s where I am right now. And actually? Yeah, I do feel better getting this off my chest.

#pivitor

[theshinsun]

Hello again! Here I am sending more 😂 Do you mind doing character thing with Kasamatsu, Imayoshi, Wakamatsu and Otsubo? If it's too much, can you do with the first three? Thank you 💕

Hello again! ^^ (So sorry for the delay I was half done and then I got hit with homework and classes and didn’t have much time to do more analyses, but they’re done for the week now! I’m free!) 

I don’t mind at all! But if it’s alright with you, I probably will just do those first three, not just because it’ll be ridiculously long otherwise, but because I don’t really? think I have any strong specific feelings for Otsubo? Idk why, I like him I just didn’t connect that much with him I don’t think... but I’ll gladly talk about the others!

Kasamatsu

How I feel about this character

GOOD SENPAI. I love this guy so much and wish he got to interact with more of the cast, I really vibe with his character design (his eyes are just... damn, also SOCKS), and I love the relationship he has with his team. He’s ruthless but obviously cares about all of them working together well, and is just looking for the respect he’s due as captain. Boy puts up with so much bullshit from his team of chaotic flaky weirdos, someone needs to cut him a break.  

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Kise (KiKasa ftw, the character development Kise goes through because of Kasamatsu is excellent, and almost instantaneous after he joins the team [“I liked being Kise of Kaijo”]. it’s really easy to interpret his behavior toward Kasamatsu as a crush; there’s no denying they’ve got chemistry and work well together... and even tho Kise drives his senpai nuts, they obviously both care about each other a lot)

Aomine (I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. They have one [1] interaction in canon, but that one interaction sold it for me. Aomine showing deference to someone and calling them “senpai”, helping him up after he got knocked down which seems... pretty unusual for him at the time, I’m so down for these two being in a relationship, it’s such a different dynamic than I usually see with pairings featuring Aomine, and there seems to be some legit respect to build off of there)

Imayoshi (I blame Lysapadin’s fic The Long Game for this, the way these two play off each other there and also canonically is... hilarious, the flirting, the Banter, please give me more quality captain ships I have a need) 

Hyuuga (MORE QUALITY CAPTAIN SHIPS. I talked about them a little in my list for Hyuuga, but I just love the idea of both of these tough, exasperated captains getting to be vulnerable with each other)

and this one is a crossover but

Oikawa Tooru (maybe because he reminds me so much of Kise, and Kasamatsu so much like Iwaizumi, I feel like they’d have a similar dynamic, but it’d be interesting to see how, unlike Kise, a hardworking somewhat self-destructive person and a fellow third-year like Oikawa would get on with this guy.) 

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Hmmm.... I’m gonna have to say Imayoshi again, even tho they work together as a couple too. The way they interact is so good, whether it’s platonic or not, and I’d love to see more one-on-one interaction with them. It could just be because the way Lysapadin handles their respective personalities in multiple fics is so perfect, but if they’re not romantically involved I’d at least like to see them as snarky semi-begrudging basketball buddies. 

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don’t know? If I have one? Mostly bc I don’t really know what the fandom itself thinks about Kasamatsu, he didn’t get a lot of press even in KNB’s heyday. A random opinion/hc of him tho is he seems to be a bit of a pessimist. Whenever he’s commentating he’s just talking about how the team’s gonna lose, and even before his own game he seemed to just be thinking about how he lost before. Idk what else to give ya, just something I observed that I don’t really see talked about or portrayed for this guy.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

*deep inhale* MOOORE SCREEEENTIME. And not just as a commentator/attachment to Kaijo where Kise hogs the spotlight, give this guy some time to interact with other characters and flesh him out some more please! I know I’m a broken record but that’s the only thing I can think of to improve him.

Imayoshi

How I feel about this character

I didn’t used to have much opinion of this guy tbh, when I was new to KNB… but NOW, damn, I love him every time he appears. He’s hilarious, I love how sassy and clever he is, I love that he has an accent (tho it’s only pointed out in the manga), I love that he gets to have little tidbits, like that he’s bad at drawing but good at mind-reading, and how he wears slippers in a school environment and just goes around teasing everyone, whether they’re teammates or opponents. Love this guy. I love how extra he is and I’m living every time he’s on screen.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Aomine (ok I talked about this quite a bit already in my Aomine rant analysis, and I mostly blame Lysapadin’s A Firm Hand series, but I just can’t get enough of the idea of these two together… [also this comic ] Imayoshi taking Aomine in hand and knowing how to handle him when no one else does, and gradually warming up to him when he stops playing tough and finally shows his soft side. good shit)

Momoi (also probably bc of A Firm Hand, but I could see these two having a very interesting relationship. They’re both extremely smart, and good at understanding people, and I really like the idea of Imayoshi taking Momoi under his wing so she doesn’t have to suffer in silence and handle everything by herself. I feel like they’d be surprisingly sweet to each other, but lesbehonest, also a potentially terrifying power couple that I almost never see done)

Kasamatsu (again, just like above, a unique dynamic and a lovely rarepair that doesn’t get talked about enough. they didn’t get nearly enough time to play off each other in canon but what we did see was damn good) 

Hanamiya (ok so… I’m not immune to this ship. I’ve seen some art, a couple fics, and it doesn’t seem to be much of a thing anymore, but still, why the hell not. they’ve got history, they’re both smart slightly evil [or very evil] shits, and they’d be such a disaster of a couple that’s why I love them)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

If not Kasamatsu, then probably Susa. They only got a little time to bond in canon, but I do love their dynamic and how chill they seem to be with each other. They remind me of a team mom/dad duo (tho I couldn’t tell you which was which lol). I could probably be talked into shipping them romantically, but I also just like the way they get along as friends and teammates. 

My unpopular opinion about this character

This is more an argument I keep having with my sister… but I actually, genuinely like this guy’s design. She thinks he looks creepy and too evil and doesn’t like that his eyes are drawn closed, but esp in the manga, he looks really polished and I like that you can tell when he gets serious by whether you can see his eyes open. (or as I say to my roommate “oh shit he’s got eyes they’re in trouble”)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish we got to see more of him just hanging with his team. Idk maybe I’m biased, but I feel like Touou in particular doesn’t get that much time devoted to, like, practice and normal everyday shit (maybe bc we got to see Kaijo twice and Shuutoku got a whole training camp plus some, but all we get of them is the hot springs scene and a very short scene at the beginning and end of the show imeanwhat) I would’ve liked to get to know this guy better and see more of how he runs his very strange individualized team, but that could just be me.  

Wakamatsu

How I feel about this character

My dude puts up with so much shit. I mean the first we see of him he’s getting kneed in the stomach by a certain dickish first-year, and he just always seems… so done with what’s going on around him. When he’s not yelling about it, which… mood, tbh. He’s relegated to little more than a background character in the anime, and only gets a liiiittle more development in the manga (as well as lots of really good faces), but tbh I’d love to see more of him. I’d love to know what he’s like as a captain and see more of how he gets along with the team; he’s the kind of hotheaded noisy player they make into the protagonist of other shows and I want to know more about him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Momoi (k a couple of my friends @spaztictwitch and @hadenxcharm actually sold me on this one. It’s a really really rare pair, but now I can’t stop thinking about it and I really like the possibilities of them as a couple.)

Aomine (again I talked a little bit about this in my Aomine essay, but I’m a sucker for this kind of ship… the love/hate dynamic, I mean. that doesn’t get old does it. and yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen content for these guys together, maybe I should take it on myself)

Sakurai (hot-tempered senpai/captain and anxious apologetic mushroom, sign me tf up these two would be Hilarious as a pairing, oh my god. I love it)

Kiyoshi (k listen. LISTEN. yes all I’ve got is the fact that they’re both centers and they only interact, like, twice, but the idea popped into my head and I think I could actually totally see it. any takers?)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Imayoshi. I don’t know if I’d ship them as a romantic pair (tho like with most things, if someone made a good case for them I’d consider it), but I do like their canonical interactions, like Imayoshi explaining the exceptions made for prodigies in sports (“do you know the golfer Tiger Woods? How about Shaq?”), and passing the proverbial hat to him when he retires as captain (“no worries, you’ll do fine!” like he’s reassuring a new parent or smth lmao). They’re good teammates even if Touou is not really about teamwork, and I like the mutual respect in how they seem to get along.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Not just a one-note guy who yells all the time. I mean, yes, he does yell and he’s got a short temper, but so does Kagami and people don’t portray him as a guy with only one emotion and that emotion is Anger. I mean… usually they don’t. Idk maybe it’s because most of his screentime involves him butting heads with Aomine, but he seems to get along with the rest of the team alright. He respects his seniors and the spirit of the team too, he’s just an all-around good guy that seems to get the short end of the stick a lot.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I have a MIGHTY NEED to see how this guy does as captain, I want to know how he does things differently than Imayoshi and how he handles all the bullshit the team throws now that it’s all gonna be landing on his shoulders. We only got a tiny scene at the end of the show demonstrating his policy about Aomine, and we barely saw him at all in the Last Game, is he doing okay?? Is he ruling Touou with an iron fist or getting into screaming matches with his kouhai? I need to Know.

Thanks so much for asking, I really appreciate the show of interest! <3 Sorry again about the delay!

#Answered #knb #kasamatsu yukio #imayoshi shouichi #wakamatsu kousuke #long post #if any of y'all need me to put a readmore break in these just let me know #otherwise im just gonna take up the whole screen real quick k? #shin speaks #kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket

[fanficsbytoast]

Mischief Tango Chapter 1

After Tyler Cowie has a disastrous run-in with the Tesseract, she has to team up with the god (or sometimes goddess) of mischief to get rid of her new powers. Or at least, that’s plan.

Warnings for story: M Language, T violence, T sex

Warnings for chapter: M language

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

I don’t think this date could have gone much worse if I’d shown up in clown shoes and a Darth Vader mask. I tiredly stared at the guy across from me, resting my face in my hand while he tapped away on his phone.

        “You like…medieval literature, right?” I asked, hoping to make this less awkward.

        “14th century manuscripts,” he said bluntly.

        I bit back a ‘isn’t that the same thing’ by taking a long drink of water.

        Brendon had been a lot friendlier a couple of days ago, when we’d run into each other in a coffee shop. Oh, yeah, it had been real cute and cliché when I’d bumped into him, knocking his drink all over him and then buying him another. Then we’d hit it off because I was carrying books with me and he was a bookbinder.

        By basic romance literature standards, we were basically made for each other. But it turns out that you needed more than just a common interest to click with someone.

        “Do you like any…like, modern books?” I asked. I traced my fork around my plate, drawing little rake-marks in the cheese sauce of my pasta.

        He snorted. “Modern writing lacks even the most basic literary competence. It’s nothing more than the same tropes recycled with angst and poor grammar.”

        I held back a grimace. “Oh.”

        Giving up, I stared down at the book on my lap. First off, I know it was rude, and secondly, this was Twilight and any normal, thinking person would be appalled by it. Maybe it was just a sign of how terrible this date was, but I thought the book was hilarious.

        I took another drink of water, my gaze still on the words.

        Wait, did it just compare the freaking vampire to a disco ball?

        Before I could stop myself, I snorted water right out of my nose and onto the table…and into Brendon’s face. The poor guy sat there in shock, and I stared on in complete mortification.

        “Oh gosh, I’m sorry—um, here!” I grabbed the nearest napkin and tried to wipe some of it off his face.

        “Tyler—” He tried to push me off, but I ended up knocking over his wine glass into his lap.

        At this point, all I could do was close my eyes.

        “I’ve…got to go,” he said stiffly. “I forgot—”

        “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

        “Eleanor—”

        “Tyler. Just go.”

        The table shifted as he got up and, and I didn’t open my eyes again until I was sure he was gone. At that point I just paid the tab, only to realize that Brendon had left the whole thing for me to pay for.

        Jerk. I shoved some breadsticks into my purse and got the heck out of there.

        Two months. I was two months into trying to ‘restart my life’ and I had suffered through five failed job interviews and eleven failed (or even set-up) dates.

        I wandered out onto the busy London sidewalk, a lump forming in my throat.

        Maybe I should call my parents back in New York. I hadn’t spoken to them in a month; even though those aliens had stormed Manhattan less than a year ago. My parents lived outside the city, but still: Aliens! Actual aliens! What if they came back?

        And superheroes? I could hardly believe they were real, either.

        A car roared by and slid through a puddle, sending a sheet of mucky water sloshing into me. I squealed and jumped back, but it was too late. The muddy water was all over my dress.

        I wanted to cry. A nineteen-year-old woman shouldn’t cry over a bad date or a ruined dress, but I was done. I’d been trying my darnedest for weeks, and I was no closer to turning my life around than when I first got off that plane.

        I covered my mouth and took a deep breath. People were probably wondering why a muddy girl was hanging around the sidewalk with tears in her eyes.

        Oddly enough, the place was empty.

        I’d never seen the sidewalks and streets so devoid of life, especially out here by all the restaurants and night life. Maybe I’d taken a wrong turn or something?

        I looked down at my phone for directions. My GPS would have to tell me how to get home. I’d walked here with Brendon and he’d left me, so there was no telling if I was even heading towards my appartment.

        “Damn it, Brendon,” I muttered under my breath. I thought about calling him and just asking for some directions, but I didn’t want to hear his voice or see his face or anything until I had some time to cool off. Right now, I kind of wanted to put worms in his shoes.

        That wouldn’t be fair to the poor worms.

        At least if I calmed down, I could drag him with some dignity: I bought you a donut! You shared it with me! I LET YOU USE MY STARBUCKS POINTS TO ORDER YOUR CHAI LATTE!

        Seriously, was there a way to refund those? Like an I-just-got-dumped-on-the-first-date refund?

        “Your game is over.”

        Say what now? I looked around to try and find out who was speaking, but all I could see were shadows and the soft, dancing glow of the streetlights.

        “I’m sorry,” said a softer, yet no less cold, voice. “I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re—”

        “Shut it, Asgardian.”

        The voices were coming from down an alleyway. What kind of a name was Asgardian? Sheesh, that was even worse than Eleanor.

        Seriously, though, was someone getting mugged? Nah, these guys seemed to know each other. Maybe it was a drug bust.

        “You have it,” said the rough voice. “We know you do.”

        “Have what?” asked the softer. It was taunting.

        “You know what we mean. We want the casket. Now hand it over.”

        I started to hurry on my way, but then a blue light shone around the corner of the building. What the heck…?

        I should run. I should definitely run. But what was that light coming from?

        My ‘monkey brain’ won out and I crept between the buildings until I was just at the corner of the alley It stretched on, long and narrow, between the shops and houses and the privacy wall behind them. At the far end, where a wall blocked off all escape, stood a man dressed in a long coat.

        He cornered by two towering, hunched creatures. And even despite the blue light, I could tell that they truly were blue. Like, Blue Raspberry Jolly Rancher blue—like giant, mean-looking Smurfs.

        But my attention was drawn to the source of the light. The man in the coat was holding a blue box in one hand, and it glowed so brightly that it illuminated the entire alleyway.

        “That’s not the casket,” growled one of the big evil Smurf creatures. “What have you done with it?”

        “Oh, I don’t have it,” said the man, eyeing them with contempt. I could just make out his facial features: Smooth and elegant, but harsh and full of hatred for the things standing before him. His eyes glittered with anger. “Odin is keeping it in his treasure hoard. I would suggest that you go to him if you’re so interested in the Casket of Winters.”

        Was this some kind of role-play? Like that guy with a LARP group I’d ran into a few weeks ago?

        Ugh, he’d stood me up.

        One of the monsters raised his arm. In the blue glow, I saw a shimmering weapon extend from his hand.

        It was a blade of ice.

        Okay, definitely not some kind of Live Action Role Play. This was real.

        “Now,” said the man, a little smile on his lips, “what good could come in killing me without reason?”

        “Oh, we have a reason,” said the other creature. “You killed Laufey.”

        Holy—what? This guy had killed somebody?

        The man laughed. “Preposterous. How would I ever have the opportunity to do that?”

        “You lured our King into the heart of Asgard and killed him where he stood.”

        “I gave Laufey every opportunity to kill Odin,” said the man. “It’s his own fault he was an incompetent beast who couldn’t even defeat a few guards.”

        “That’s a funny thing,” said the monster. “I heard it was you who killed him. You saved Odin’s life, that’s what the rumors said.”

        “Well, people have been known to spread gossip,” said the man, beaming with that salty, fake smile again. “I can assure you that—”

        “You are a liar and a murderer,” snarled the monster with the blade. “And you will pay for your transgressions against Jotunheim!”

        Yoda what now? I didn’t think they were talking about Star Wars.

        Despite every fiber of my rational mind screaming for me to get out of there, I crept a little closer, hunkering just around the corner of the nearest building so I could hear better.

        I knew it was stupid. This was murder and who knew what else. But it’s not every day that you start seeing stuff that could have come straight out of Star Trek, and my butt was not moving.

        “Now would that truly be wise?” asked the man. He was completely unphased by the monsters’ threats, which made me think he was probably even dumber than I was. “I regret to say this, but I have been humoring you.” He raised the glowing cube. “Do you know what this is?”

        “I don’t care,” said the monster who seemed to be the leader.

        “You say that, but with its power I could defeat the both of you with a wave of my hand.” The monsters glanced at each other, and the man grinned again. “So why don’t we end these negotiations on a pleasant note, in which we go our separate ways and you don’t interfere with my plans?”

        The monsters glanced at each other, but then they stepped aside. The man waved his hand and the cube suddenly disappeared.

        It was all starting to make sense. All this talk with names I couldn’t pronounce? Weird creatures? Mysterious creepy magician man? I was in an anime.

        Just kidding. No, I was witnessing a legit alien invasion—or maybe the alien mafia. It didn’t matter. I needed to get out of here before they realized I was watching them.

        I turned around, only to collide into a wall. Except, it wasn’t a wall. I stumbled back, and in the pale light of the overhead lamp, I could see the man in the long coat. Even in the shadows, I could see the glower on his face.

        Shit! How’d he get here so fast?

        I tried to run past him, but he grabbed my arm and dragged me around the corner and into the alley.

        “I don’t suppose this is yours?” he asked the monsters. I tried to wrench and squirm out of his grasp, but he was unbelievably strong.

        Right. Aliens.

        Tyler, you fucking moron, why didn’t you run?

        “A mortal?” asked one of the monsters.

        “Mortal?” I repeated. “What the—”

        “You insult us,” said the other. “Just kill it and let’s get on with it. It’s probably a spy.”

        “I’m not a spy!” I said frantically. “I just heard voices and—I mean, I didn’t hear much—really! You guys were just, uh, talking about…um…Chicago, right? You know, cyanide, squish, spread eagles—"

        The man’s hand clapped over my face. I wanted to scream, but my mind was suddenly filled with flashing images of my past.

        I was at my third birthday party; donning a cheap, shimmering Cinderella dress that was two sizes too big while my then-dark curls got covered in pink frosting from my cake.

        And then I was seven, blonder headed now, playing in the hayloft of a pig barn at the state fair. My sister’s son, who wasn’t much older than I was, pushed me out and I landed in a mucky mess, surrounded by panicked, squealing pigs.

        I was sixteen now and staring to a mirror, half clothed, and wondering why my thighs looked like zebra legs.

        During my first driving lesson, I backed the car into my dad’s van. He yelled. I cried. He took me out for icecream and taught me to parallel park.

        I graduated. Got my license. I tried getting a job. And then I came here, and brief glimpses of my failed dates and job interviews flashed before me for mere seconds. I was walking down the street; I heard the voices in the alleyway. I saw it all play out again.

        And then it was over.

        A wave of exhaustion slammed into me, and my knees threatened to buckle under my weight.

        “She saw everything,” said the man.

        Wait, had he been reading my mind? Oh no. He’d seen everything. Even my zebra thighs.

        Maybe being killed by alien mobsters wasn’t so bad after all.

        “Then it must die,” said the monster with the weapon. I was about to ask what ‘it’, was, but then he raised the blade over my head. Oh. I was ‘it’. You know what? Never mind. This was much worse than my thighs.

        “Whoa!” I tried to back up, but Trench Coat there still had a hold of my arm. “Can’t you just, like, wipe my memory or something?”

        They all stopped.

        “What?” asked the man. I glanced between him and the monsters. Maybe I was getting somewhere.

        “Uh, y-you know. Like in Men in Black? If you can read my mind, you should be able to wipe—”

        My voice cut off in a squeal as the monster swung his weapon towards me. I raised my free arm to protect my face, but the man shoved me behind him.

        “Are you so thick as to think that her death would go unnoticed?” he growled. “I have no interest in alerting the entire city to my whereabouts.” He looked back at me, his gaze hard. “You won’t say a word, will you?”

        Words came tumbling out of my mouth. “Tell them what? I didn’t see anything. Who are you again?”

        “And if you do,” he leaned closer to me, so close that I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. He wasn’t as tall as the monsters, but he still towered over me. And he needed a mint. “I may not be as merciful as I am now.”

        I gulped, but I nodded frantically. I hardly knew what he was saying except that he was promising not to kill me. And right now, that was all I cared about.

        He shoved me away, and I stumbled before starting to hurry down the alley. I was almost around the corner when I glanced back at them again, just to see if they were about to jump me.

        The lead monster was now raising his weapon behind the Trench Coat man, who was staring me down with a horrible scowl. He didn’t even realize what was happening.

        “Look out!”

        I was too late. The blade struck through his back and out through his stomach, splattering blood across the pavement. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was cover my mouth as the man gasped and fell to the ground. The monsters looked to me. Uh-oh.

        Turning on my heel, I started booking it in the opposite direction. Something cracked like lightning, and a blast of cold energy crashed into me from behind and sent me sprawling onto the pavement. A freezing-cold hand gripped my ankle and dragged me back into the alley.

        I clawed at the ground and screamed, but the hand hoisted me right off the ground. It was one of the monsters. He sneered at me and raised his weapon again, his frozen fingers burning my skin like boiling water.

        With my free foot, I managed to kick him in the face. Let me tell you: A high-heel to the face is nothing to laugh about, even if you’re an eight-foot giant and I’m a relatively small (uh, short) woman. The monster howled and dropped me, and I hit the ground with what I imagined was a splat. The shock from the impact had me choking, but I somehow managed to scramble away.

        His arms swiped at me, but I dodged and dove between the shadows. I lost my shoes, tore my dress, and my hair was unpinned and flying around my face as I desperately avoided his weapon and hands.

        I rolled out of the way of his blade. This time, it collided with the stone so hard that it shattered on impact. The monster roared in pain, and I ran down the dark side of the alley to hide.

        A blue glow bathed the world around me. I ducked down behind a trash can and peered around to see what was happening. The man was hunched over and holding onto his stomach, but he clutched that blue cube thing in his hand.

        The monsters hesitated, but then the one nearest to him went to club him over the head. The man ducked to the side, and energy cracked around the alley, momentarily freezing the giants—and me—in place.

        The best I could describe it as was like two magnets repelling each other. I felt a crushing weight, but I couldn’t move at all. I could barely breathe, and blue light swirled around the alley like Disney fairy magic or something.

        Then the man cried out in pain, clutching at his wound. The energy cut out, releasing the lot of us. The nearest monster backhanded the guy across the alley, and he crashed into the privacy wall. The cube slid across the ground and landed a few feet away from me. Both monsters advanced.

        What was I supposed to do? That cube was obviously really powerful, and these guys were clearly like, well, villains. I couldn’t just let them have it!

        And so I dove for it. I threw myself out from behind the trashcan and grabbed the cube in my bare hands.

        “No!” screamed the man, but it was too late. Energy surged through my veins. Pain tore through my every nerve, but my mind was spasming. I couldn’t let go. It wouldn’t let me! I could feel the power holing up in my arms, but I couldn’t do anything to stop—

        BOOM. The energy in the cube exploded, sending the monsters, the man, me, a ton of trashcans, and a tomcat sailing through the air. My body slammed against the wall, and before I ever hit the ground, I was out cold.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki fiction #loki mcu #oc #loki x oc

[enkisstories]

Just like them

- Short Detroit Become Human fanfic starring Daniel - - Close enough to canon, not my Sims!AU - November 15, 2038 Park Avenue

Daniel placed his hand on the door lock. However, the device rejected his request almost instantly.

ACCESS DENIED

It wasn’t just a string of bright letters, the message additionally burned itself into the android brain. And although the narrative went that androids didn’t feel pain, the sharp sting of the “Nope” signal along with all the emotions it triggered in Daniel’s deviant mind were unpleasant to say the least.

“Shit!”

Daniel raised his hand – or rather, he moved his shoulder to lift the replacement arm and hand up, spare parts salvaged from other unfortunates that had found themselves in the DPD’s evidence archive. Just when the new limbs had started to feel less like prostheses and more like parts of himself, the android had to receive a reminder to the fact that this wasn’t the case. His real hand was lost and with it the RFID tag that would have opened the door to the Phillips apartment.

Daniel wondered briefly the key to which door he was carrying now, because some signal had gotten exchanged between the hand and the door lock. If there had been no key present at all, the door would just have stayed silent instead of bellowing its “Access denied” at the intruder.

A shutdown police auxiliary beyond repair had “donated” Daniel’s new legs, but also the hand? Daniel didn’t remember. It hadn’t mattered earlier that day when they had set him more or less free.

And now the android he was standing here, with an electronic cuff somewhere in his system, a novel worth of parole terms in his head, but fresh out of an emergency override keycard for his own home.

I should have went with that guy from Jericho when he offered it. But, noooooo, I HAD to do this alone, because I don’t NEED help at all. And I shouted at him, so there’s no turning back now. It’s getting dark anyway. And ‘sides, I have a right to this flat! It’s my inheritance, the pay for four years of service, no way I’m going to live in, what was it, a wrecked cruise ship or something? No way!

Tap,tap,tap… jingle,jingle,jingle… swoosh

Daniel exited the elevator and only when the doors closed behind him did he realize that he had just traveled downwards by one floor without actually having decided to do so.

Check. Deviant brain doing deviant stuff. They warned me about this.

Daniel’s subconsciousness had taken over, now the question was where had it taken him?

Looking around Daniel discovered that he was standing right in front of an apartment door, one hand raised slightly, obviously in an attempt to ring the doorbell. The nameplate that went with the bell read “Rasoya”.

Ah, right, that was familiar territory. The Rasoyas were the Phillips’ direct downstairs neighbors. They had helped them out by taking Emma when her parents were out and with sugar, flour and eggs that Caroline tended to forget to stock up in sufficient quantity. That had been before Daniel had joined the household, of course, but even with the Phillips owning a state of the art household assistant made by CyberLife now the families had remained… close?

I have always assumed we were close, but looking back I feel “habitually on speaking terms” is more precise.

Someone was stirring now inside the apartment and a female voice rose up:

“I think I heard someone at the door! Will you take a look?”

“Yes, it’s me!” Daniel shouted back, then rang the bell.

Someone was looking through a spyhole, not trusting the electronic security camera, then opened the door. Before it was fully open, Daniel already gasped at the person behind it: “Can I borrow a crowbar, please, Mrs. Rasoya? I need to break into the Phillips apartment!”

Mrs. Rasoya laughed so hard at this that the toddler boy she was holding was shaking violently. Reflexively Daniel grabbed him while Mrs. Rasoya was still trying to get a grip on herself. Eventually the woman said:

“Daniel Phillips – the most polite android revolutionary ever.”

“Calm down, calm down!” Daniel shushed the human. “I’m not with Markus or whoever, I don’t even have a clear idea what exactly’s going on!”

I mean, when have I ever? I lived in an illusion all my existence, believing myself appreciated… sheltered… Going by my experience Markus could just be another Connor: playing nice, but harboring ulterior motives.

“They just…”

Looking for a familiar term in all the madness that was the present, the android continued:

“…let me out of prison and here I am, but I can’t enter my own damn apartment!”

“Own dan apartment!” little Caden Rasoya repeated cheerfully, at which his grandmother demanded the kid to get returned to her.

“Raj, dear?” she called into the apartment and a few heartbeats later her adult son, Caden’s father, appeared. Raj was a gourmet chef and his body was certainly looking the part, although he tended to dress extremely casually at home.

“Would you accompany Danny here upstairs to break down the Phillips’s door, Raj?”

“You know what, mom?” Raj laughed out loud. “This is by far the most normal request I’ve heard those last few days.”

Daniel watched Mrs. Rasoya retreat into her home where she picked up an old handheld gaming device that she had been playing on. He heard Caden giggle. The TV was running, Caden giggled some more, but then listened intently to his mother, who was explaining something connected to the evening children’s show they were watching. Everything was so normal!

Why were the Rasoyas still here, Daniel wondered? Were the feeling that the worst was behind them and deeming it save to stay in Detroit, even though the president had arranged an evacuation of a scope that put to shame even the annual floods? Were these humans maybe just as attached to their territory as Daniel himself was? Regardless of the possible consequences? In retrospect, what if Caroline had still been here tonight? Or – was she, maybe?!

“Uh… Is Caroline…?” Daniel started asking Raj.

“Left Detroit. In fact, she didn’t even wait for the presidential nudge to do so.”

“Ah.”

Raj grabbed the doorknob and with his head motioned the android to join him.

“Come in!”

“But I need to…”

“No way I’m trying to kick in a sturdy apartment door, least of all with security still intact”, Raj explained. “And neither should you do that, with a criminal record on your head. You have one…?”

“Yes, yes, it’s all legit. The DPD knows I’m here, but, fuck, I should have asked for an escort to actually get into my home.”

“You certainly picked up some language there that you didn’t know before”, Raj commented, still more amused than wary. Definitely wary, too, but not to an extent that prevented the man from acting civilly.

“But what am I to do now?”

“You’ll want to take the balcony route, Daniel. Climb up from our balcony and find your door. It was never properly repaired after… the incident, you should be able to push it open easily.”

“That’s that Connor’s fault!” Daniel spat. “It doesn’t respect anything!”

And that were the last words he exchanged with the Rasoyas. Without even a “thanks” the deviant made haste towards the balcony, jumped onto the railing and started scaling the apartment building like an ape. A PL600 wasn’t particularly strong, but their dexterity and eye-hand-coordination had to be rated outstanding even compared to other androids. Daniel was also rather agile, although he suspected that was a personal feat, nothing hard-coded in his system specs. And of course his new PC200 legs were also contributing to his athletic ability.

*

Inside the Phillips home Daniel didn’t linger much in the apartment proper, but instead went straight to the fish tank in the floor.

“Huey, Dewey, Louie… everyone still there!” he noticed with relief. “It’s feeding time, gentlemen! – Hehe, yes, go for it! No need to fight, there’s more where this is coming from!”

Smiling the android watched the fish gorge themselves. When had been the last time they had been fed, he wondered? So typical of Caroline! Flaunting the family fortune, but possessed of a total disregard of actual living beings. Like those of the ornamental fish she had left behind to their fate. Or her android’s…

Daniel had never given his artificial lung much thought. They were just there, moving his chest to make him appear more lifelike. Now the deviant realized how this particular biocomponent came in handy: he sighed deeply.

Moving back into the apartment Daniel almost expected to find John’s tablet. Of course after all this time it wouldn’t be there anymore. Or at least it would no longer display the order confirmation for the AP700, where John had ticked the “Disposal of old device at no extra cost” option. There had been another option, also at no extra cost: to donate the old android to charity. It would have taken the man no longer than two minutes to choose an organization from a dropdown list, but John Phillips hadn’t wanted anybody to mooch from something he had payed good money for. He had said so aloud and that comment had alerted Daniel to what was going on in the first place.

John’s greed and antisocial tendencies might very well have saved my life!

Daniel shooed this thought and looked around some more.

Pictures of Emma, John and Caroline, sometimes alone, then again as a family or with various friends, were everywhere. Of their android there was no sign and hadn’t been before the incident. Daniel felt a little like visiting the Dursleys with all the pictures of Dudders and no hint whatsoever that another boy was living at Privet Drive…

He picked up one of the framed pictures. It showed the family gathered under a Christmas Tree. The spheres, bells, stars and pine cones were all made from real glass and in between hang handmade charms fashioned by Emma. The Phillips didn’t believe in anything transcendental, neither god, nor magic. But even so they had followed the traditions and actually gained something from them. There had been an unusual warmth around that time of year each year.

Daniel put back the photograph. Suddenly the glass ornaments were too bright, the fishtank next door too loud and even the carpet his feet were touching was too rough. The deviant hunkered down and buried his head in his arms. Thirium tried to get up and out through his nose. Daniel didn’t understand what was happening to him. His system status hadn’t been that bad this morning!

Stay in… stay in… I don’t want to die! Only, I feel like dying… But I don’t want to! It’s not fair!

Daniel had sat there hunched over and crying for a while, when suddenly the door rang. A jolt went through the android’s body. Daniel jumped up and the weak, but steady stream of skin fluid mixed with blue blood came to a halt. The android wiped it away and licked the thirium from his new fingers before opening the door.

“Hey, Geeta”, Daniel greeted the visitor. “Afraid I might shut down from sorrow all alone up here?”

The words sounded like an accusation…

“Nah.” Mrs. Rasoya shook her head. “Not you. In fact, I reckon you are unable to suicide.”

“Huh? How would you know?”

Geeta walked past Daniel. She grabbed one of the family photographs at random and turned it for Daniel to get a good look at it.

“Dogs take after their owners, children after their parents and androids… androids take after their masters.”

“That’s utter bullshit!” the deviant flared up. “And even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t apply to me! I’m a de…”

“Deviant, Daniel? For deviants what I said goes even more so, because of your emotions.”

“I may have acquired some of those, so what?!”

“The Phillips couple, too, was never one for thinking before acting… for taking a step back from their desires… or for putting themselves into others’ shoes.”

Daniel started to yell again, but was cut short:

“What kindness they had, manifested indirectly only - in their little girl and in their household assistant.”

“Huh.”

“Not what you wanted to hear, I know.”

Daniel took the picture.

“Me? Being like them?”

“It’s true.”

The deviant smiled warmly, not unlike when he had watched his fishes. For several moments he stood there, content with the world and himself. But then he jerked around his arm and smashed the frame against the nearest wall.

“They never were my family!!!”

Geeta shrugged and said her goodbyes.

“You know where to find us if you want to borrow gelignite or whatever a modern deviant might need”, she said. The woman had meant it as a joke, but as she gently closed the door behind herself, she wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

#dbh daniel #dbh #detroit become human #dbhtextpost #dbh textpost #non sims #danielgavinnewstory

[metalchick19-blog]

The Bowers Gang: Ship #9 - Victor Criss

Request: Alrighty I’ll have you ship me with whoever you think personally~ my hair is blonde and I’m short asl, but I also have a tattoo of a black rose on the side of my wrist. A lot of my friends tell me that I can always make them laugh with what I say or do and a lot of them will often come to me for advice or if they need to rant about something, which honestly just makes me feel even better as a person. I’m someone who will always stand by you if you’ve never done me dirty and need help. I do have a goofy side that only my closest friends see everyday, which is honestly sometimes just me as person. I think of myself as a fairly outgoing person and I’m never one to just stand in the corner of a party. Some things I need to work on are opening up to other people when talking about feelings and problems I have instead of just bottling them up. If there’s someone that I don’t like, I make it very clear and can be totally heartless towards them. I can also stress myself out easily and get overwhelmed by everything that’s going on. I’ve been through some shit, so I have a better understanding of other people’s hardships than most people. Being friends with me means that you always have someone to go to for laughs, but also someone who won’t sugar coat anything for you. Being in a relationship with me means you’ll actually have someone devoted to you and fun times, but you also gotta break down any walls built up. To put it into simpler terms, I’m a pretty chill person who goes with the flow but can get serious when it comes to something that’s important to me and I need to do. A couple of facts about me is that I want to be an elementary school teacher (I love kids so much, more than people my age tbh), I smoke the devils lettuce damn near hourly on a daily (fuck getting drunk, getting high is better), I love going to the beach, driving around downtown with friends, or just taking time to myself in my room to listen to music!

Always traces your rose tattoo absentmindedly when you cuddle/sit next to each other

Finds your transparency hot as hell, because he sees it as an indication of how honest you are 

So appreciates the shit out of it, even when you’re being a total icy bitch to someone he doesn’t even know (and learns to assume you have your reasons when he doesn’t understand why)

The guys gave you a designated seat in the Trans-Am because you drive around with them after school so often (like the trooper you are) 

You’re on the far left, behind Belch, with Victor in the middle between you and Patrick (very much on purpose)

Victor sometimes comes over to people’s houses to keep you company while you babysit (the ol’ “sneak in the boyfriend routine”)...

... and actually helps with the sitting of the baby, rather than expecting to fuck and/or sit and watch movies like some other teen delinquents we know 

But seriously - Victor is straight-up the daddy to your mommy whenever you guys watch kids together, and it’s truly one of the loveliest things ever

Tends to start off awkward at first (he’s very friendly with kids, but has a hard time talking to them in ways they understand since he can’t “dumb down” his language), but always ends up being their literal favorite person by the time the night is over (apart from you, of course)

Entirely because Criss makes funny faces like a pro, keeps the small ones entertained while you warm up dinner, and ties shoes singing the bunny ears song and everything 

I.e. He’s “the fun guy”

Also demonstrates an inside voice like nobody’s business, and slides a coaster under every drink (house rules = respected) 

Also steps up to do some of the disciplinary things when you can’t get a specific smol one to listen to you 

... and is low-key a toddler whisperer about it too

When he has to be the disciplinarian, Victor always just kneels down to the tiny kid’s eye-level (regardless of whether they’re screaming, crying, or otherwise), and casually starts talking to them as if they understand every adult word that’s coming out of his mouth

Which most of them couldn’t possibly do, because toddlers 

... But, from the moment they make eye contact with him, the majority of kids go completely serene and just stare at Victor like they do understand what he’s saying, and clean up their act right after he “discusses it” with them

The guy seriously somehow stops all tears/whining/unacceptable behavior just by being like “hey, that’s not cool dude, and here’s why”

It’s legitimately random to the point of being annoying, because there’s no reason getting children in line should be that easy for him (considering it’s insanely difficult for some people that actually have kids)

You insist that the lil’ buns are just reflecting Victor’s calm nature, but his smug smile will always indicate he low-key thinks he’s better at child-care than you

... Which you know isn’t true, but we’ll let him think what he wants to think

He finds it really endearing how well you get along with kids though, and thinks it’s adorable that you’re able to connect with them so easily

You’re the first person he’s ever been with who’s made him think, “She’ll be a really great Mom someday,” and that’s beautiful 

You make Victor smile in the moments when he truly gets down on himself

This is a pretty big deal, because he tends to feel the fuck out of things regardless of the emotion

It’s impossible for the majority of people to sway Victor’s mood at all when he’s upset, because it always settles over him so heavily...

... but you somehow do the trick.

Your goofy nature usually bounces off of him at first (he stays in his head, and doesn’t give much response to most of your humor for a while), but you always eventually say something that strikes a cord with him, and elicits a small smirk

... which eventually leads to a smile, which leads to a laugh, which ultimately leads to you talking out his issues with him and lifting his spirits

You’re seriously one of Criss’ main emotional outlets, and I wish I could shake your hand, cause’ that’s an honor 

This isn’t a one-way street, though - Victor does the same for you

He noticed early on (before you were even together) that you only tended to talk about positive things/ “surface level” information even after you had been hanging out with the guys for a long time

And to him (i.e. the group psychologist), that made it clear you were trying to keep your distance by not sharing your problems or talking about things that were really important to you

So he made a point of being there for you x1,000,000 when you officially got together 

Example: He knows you won’t bring up any of your issues unprompted, so Victor asks how your day is going at every given opportunity

Aka: he provides a chance for you to tell him something’s bugging you

He also jumps on it whenever you show any visible signs of being sad, and straight-up asks you to tell him what you’re feeling because real men aren’t afraid to talk about that jazz 

Even though it took time for you to get used to it (i.e. sharing your emotions), it’s now something that’s become a reflex for you

You’ve cried on Victor’s shoulder, shared your previous traumas, let him see you at the peak of rage, and he’s done the same with you; there’s nothing left to hide 

The two of you have seriously reached a point where you could tell one another anything on the spot

You’re each other’s permanent comfort and support - simple as that.

When one of you is feeling especially down though, or when you both just feel you’ve earned a break from life (i.e. after exams, or during spring/winter break), you and Victor have “intensive care” smoke sessions at his house

...Tastefully named “intensive care” smoke sessions by the both of you

This basically means hot-boxing Victor’s room all day long (fucking glorious), watching movies in his bed, and playing whatever tapes you want on full blast at random intervals throughout the day

The two of you cycle between just sitting and listening to the music (typically at the peak of your high, when you’re both brain-dead), to talking about incredibly philosophical/incredibly stupid things (”who closes the bus door after the bus driver gets off?”), to raiding Victor’s fridge for munchies until you eventually empty it and have to walk into town for more 

Side-note: Victor is smooth as fuck when it comes to being high and acting normal in public

Whenever you guys order food anywhere after you’ve already smoked, he’s always the one who speaks because he never stutters, breaks eye contact, or forgets what he’s saying in the middle

You’ve even seen him get into full, logically sound conversations with people just minutes after taking a bong rip in the Trans-Am (group smoke sessions are a thing too)

The guy legit held it together even when his parents came home in the middle of your smoke session once, and introduced you normally even though you were having a level 10 panic attack, and were not subtle about it (those darting high person eyes were all over the place) 

In short, he can basically just revert back to being sober again whenever he wants to, and it’s a major turn-on for stoners everywhere. 

*Pointless side-note ended*

You try to get Victor to socialize at the 2-3 house parties Henry forces you all to each month, but he won’t do it

Just stands next to you, quietly sipping his beer and letting his attention drift around the room

Fields small-talk when he has to (he’s not shy or unapproachable - just introverted), but usually just prefers to be the handsome guy standing next to you while you own the spotlight

You’ll forever be the majestic, sociable party dom with a dry-humored wallflower for a boyfriend - enjoy

... he looks at you a lot while you talk to people though, and it’s so obvious he’s thinking about how beautiful you are, because his eyes make it clear he’s focusing on your face rather than your words 

So many girls in Derry High hate you because of adorable crap like this - there’s a lot of salt over Victor Criss being so thoroughly taken by someone

Patrick often tries to break you away from Victor at parties, because, like you, he talks easily and likes to try to get into shit (and because he thinks you’re hot/would love to take a girl away from Victor using only the power of his penis)

He’ll randomly show up next you when you’re getting another drink, going to the bathroom... or, really, doing anything other than talking to Victor

...At which point he propositions the shit out of you, and tries to convince you to come upstairs

This has never worked out well for him.

You did play a legitimately sick game of beer-pong together once after you got him to stop coming onto you (for a second), but that was just because you were already buzzed, and felt unusually tolerant towards him

So even though you usually reject him wholeheartedly (and somewhat loudly/angrily), you two will always be remembered as the life of post-homecoming blowout, 1987 (where you made every single shot, and didn’t have to take even one drink between the two of you)

... Still doesn’t change the fact that he’s trying to do you though, and that you’re too loyal to Victor to be feeling it 

Even though he won’t participate in other ways when it comes to parties, Victor always dances with you, because he has a specific thing for watching you move to house music

You asked him about it once, and he just said he thinks it’s beautiful because it “accentuates your purity”

If you don’t get what he means, you’re in good company - the guy has an artsy soul.

Interesting side-note: Like Patrick, Henry has low-key wanted to sleep with you from the moment he first saw you, but keeps it heavily under wraps in the interest of not screwing up you and Victor’s relationship 

He doesn’t talk to you much, and has a hard time maintaining eye contact even when he does (because guilt and attraction)

Essentially decided that abstinence is key where you’re concerned, and tries not to form much of a connection with you so it’s easier to control himself

Avoids being left alone with you at all costs, and doesn’t acknowledge you much in general

... He eyes you a lot when he gets drunk though (most often, at the parties you go to)

No words, but enough wasted leering to make it clear where his head is at

 It’s never escalated into anything, but it’s something you notice.

... And you’ve never told Victor in the interest of preserving their friendship. 

* Interesting side-note ended *

Victor tried to take you on a private date to the quarry once (because you’d always told him about how badly you wished there was a beach in Derry), but the guys found out and showed up unexpectedly as soon as the two of you hit the water

... And it was actually your first date.

Meaning Criss was not at all entertained by that bandwagony bullshit.

They literally just came to see you in a bathing suit (hence why they came out of hiding only after you’d gotten in the water), and you’re such a bad bitch that you called them out on it rather than let it be 

... But that just earned a predictably creepy affirmation from Patrick (”What, you thought we were gonna’ let Criss keep a body like that all to himself?” *Disgusting Hockstetter cackle as Victor death-stares him into oblivion*), and didn’t amount to anything more than obnoxious laughter on Henry and Belch’s part 

Long story short, the guys all stampeded into the water with you, and swimming for 2 became swimming for 5

So, yeah. First date was a group date, and no one was thrilled.

Because of what you’ve been through in life, you understand some of the fucked up situations Victor has experienced better than most other people; as a result of that, you have a unique understanding of his hot/cold feelings about the gang

I.e. You get why it isn’t just black and white for him - other people may see the guys as straight-up evil, but it’s different for Victor, and you get that

Essentially you understand that he’s a ride or die (because genuine loyalty), but that he’s also ready to jump ship in the interest of not becoming something he isn’t; he’s never been able to express that to anyone else 

Because you get why Victor feels moved to leave the gang sometimes (and partly because of your own experiences with them), you support him in that direction whenever he mentions it

Being that you don’t sugarcoat things, you confirm for him that the guys aren’t people that would be good for his adult life - he’s always thought that in his head, but has never had another person around who knew the guys personally to corroborate the opinion

Meaning, now that the opinion has been corroborated, it’s kind of huge for him

You may ultimately be the thing that gives Victor the strength he needed to leave the guys, because you help cement his view that it would be the right thing to do

Plus, his relationship with you would fulfill him to an extent where he wouldn’t feel as attached to the gang as before, and he would see himself as being much happier in a future with you than in a future with them

In short, you might change the course of Victor Criss’s entire life - have fun being the best thing that’s ever happened to him

#henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #victor criss #The Bowers Gang #the bowers gang headcanons #it

[totalconway]

Burning Bridges at Christmas...I think

Christmas is by far my favourite time of year! I like all the good will towards man, the spirit of giving, Santa Claus and all that shit. The best part for me is being able to watch Christmas movies and not have to worry about the month I’m watching it in. 

One particular Christmas was special because after less than 2 years of doing Stand Up comedy I was invited to perform at the Sydney Comedy Store for their end of year Christmas shows. This was a huge honour for me because working through the open mic scene in Perth, the feeling amongst the comedians was that being invited to perform at the Sydney Comedy Store was the same as becoming a ‘Made Man’ in a gangster movie, it was the highest honour you could obtain. 

When I got the invitation I was travelling through Port Headland on a 5 week mining tour performing to some of the roughest crowds that I have ever performed for. They weren’t bad crowds, they were just tough and my skill level was not ready to perform for an audience that had just finished a 12 hour shift and just wanted to sit in silence with a few beers and dream of the day they can return home to their families and jet ski’s.

Comedy in my opinion has a lot in common with Shawshank Prison, to get good at it you have to crawl through five football fields of shit and hopefully come out somewhat talented on the other side. At this point in my career I was nowhere it, I was still chiseling through the wall and learning the craft wishing that one day I could get even close to the shit pipes. 

These mining tours however fast tracked my learning and after 2 weeks on the road I learnt that I was well and truly crawling through the shit pipes. Weeks of bombing in front of miners was a depressing experience made even worse by the fact I couldn’t drown my sorrows because all the mine sites we performed at were Mid strength mine sites. Drowning your sorrows with mid strength alcohol is like trying to combat your heroin addiction with milk shakes.

One of the stops of the mining tour was Port Headland. A massive shit hole to most people, for me it was my favourite part of the tour purely for the fact that my Vodafone phone would get reception and I was able to check my missed calls and emails. During our drive through Port Headland my spirits were lifted when I received an email from the Sydney Comedy Store inviting me to perform for their Christmas shows. I was ecstatic and told the guys I was touring with that after this mining tour I would be heading to Sydney to perform at the Comedy Store. In unison they all looked at each other with a look I can only describe as “How the fuck is this guy getting a gig at the Comedy Store”. In reality they probably didn’t give a shit that I would be making $50 a night when they were going to be making thousands of dollars doing cruise ships or whatever they had planned. Whatever they thought I didn’t care, in my mind I was finally going to become a ‘Made Man’.

In the Perth open mic scene, I was best mates with a group of guys who would regularly fly over to Sydney to perform at the Comedy Store. Lucky for me they gave me the inside scoop on what to do when you get there, how to conduct yourself, essentially performing at the Comedy Store has the same rules as performing anywhere “Try not to be shit, and don’t be a cunt” pretty easy rules to follow. Being shit can be subjective but it’s pretty obvious if someone is being a cunt and in most places it won’t be tolerated. The Comedy Store is one of those places. I know a story of a comedian who managed to worm his way in to perform at the Comedy Store and got banned for snapping his fingers at the bar staff trying to get served like he was a Wall Street guy at Hooters. I know the comedian and he’s got that spoilt little rich kid demeanor kinda like Joffery in Game of Thrones except more cunty.

Now a little back story before I get into the next part, when I was starting out the group of friends I hung with would always bust each others balls in the most fake macho bravado way possible. Someone would say “Don’t be shit tonight” and they would respond “I’ll kill you cunt” and they would respond “I’ll bash your whole family”. Writing it out now sounds terrible but that’s how it was and  everyone would always laugh and joke when we did it. I was still new and incredibly naive, I thought I had stumbled across some secret “In” joke that only professional comedians knew and not just a running joke amongst the 10 open mic comedians I would regularly perform with.

I flew over to Sydney with hope in my heart and some ‘insider’ tips on how to fit in with the crew there. I remember one of the main things I was really looking forward to was seeing my name in the big bright lights on the Sydney Comedy Store. The sign that would shine out to let the world know I was a legit comedian worth seeing. I remember walking down the alley trying to act as cool as possible but really feeling giddy with excitement for the moment I’d see my name on that sign for the first time. I remember walking up with my eyes facing down, then I casually took a look up and my name was nowhere to be seen. They hadn’t put my name on the board! It didn’t really upset me but after 5 weeks of bombing on mine sites seeing my name in lights at the Sydney Comedy Store would have been a nice bit of sugar for my ego. 

The reason why my name wasn’t on the board is because I was doing a two week run and unless you’re a superstar they only put your name up for the second week of your run, so I still got my name in lights and got a few happy snaps for the memory book.

One piece of advice I got for when you start out at the Comedy Store was to bring a bottle of Jamieson and some cigarettes to drink with the staff afterwards. The staff at the Comedy Store were the guys you wanted to be hanging with after the show, there was no real professional networking reason for this, they were just cool people to hang out with. So I made sure to bring two bottles of Jamieson and 2 packs of smokes, not only for the staff but also as a sacrifice to the Comedy Gods to let them know I was taking this opportunity seriously. As it turned out it wasn’t a big enough sacrifice because I bombed for 2 weeks straight. I knew it was bad, but it didn’t sink in at how bad it was until the Booker called me after the second or third gig to say that I should just do my Raw Comedy set. I was devastated, I called up my friends in Perth to ask what I should do and they said they didn’t know. They had never received a phone call from a Booker like that before, they also laughed in my face which is always humbling. In their defence I would of done the same thing. 

I decided to put my head down and try to fix what I had, and I managed to turn my shit shows from bad to just kinda bad. 

Despite the shows going badly it was still a worth while experience. I became good mates with the staff and I’m still mates with them today. After every gig we would hang out and drink, smoke and talk shit. The 2 week run was awesome because I became mates with the other comedians as well who were a mix of TV and radio stars and guys who were on the cusp of becoming the next TV and radio stars. 

The biggest name on the line up was staying at the same hotel as me. I was told by everyone he’s the nicest dude in comedy and he’s the sort of dude that would do anything for you, the utmost gentlemen. So I decided to walk back to the hotel with him one night. I don’t know whether it was the Jamieson or the weed but I thought i’m going to let him know that I know the "In” jokes that all comedians know (still blissfully unaware this is just a shitty joke amongst open micers in Perth). So we were walking and chatting and we came across a house party and I turned to him and said “We should go in there”. He said “Why would we do that” and I said “I don’t know, to bash em”. He looked at me like what the fuck are you talking about, but in my mind he’s throwing me lob balls to hit out of the park. Then he said “Dude why would we go in there and bash them”. At this point I’ve finished the joke so him asking me why would we bash them?, felt like he was testing me by taking me into deep water where I’d have to riff my way out, so I said the funniest thing I could think of and I said “because we’re from the streets”. I think the rest of the walk home was probably a lot more awkward for him than it was for me.

We got to the hotel, shook hands and went our separate ways. I didn’t think anything of it until I was in Melbourne a few months later and I was sitting with a group of comedians in the artist bar and he walked in. He went around the table shaking everyone’s hand with a big smile on his face and came to me and  shakes my hand but looks at me like I’m the biggest piece of shit in the world. I’m trying to think if I had bumped into him already at this festival (I may have had a few big nights with one or two blackouts at that festival) and made a cunt of myself. I thought surely he’s not mad at the “We’re from the streets” comment? it was clearly a joke, that couldn’t be it. Then I thought it might have been because I put on such an amateur performance at the Comedy Store but that couldn’t be it either because I saw him shaking hands with comedians who are way shitter than me like that fucking Joffery cunt. So it must have been the “because we’re from the streets” line. (which I find funny) I’ve bombed in rooms where the Booker doesn’t want me back on the line up again but I’ve never bombed a conversation to the point where the person never wanted to see me again (Excluding first dates). 

I haven’t seen him since the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, I mean I have seen him he’s fucking everywhere but hopefully we can cross paths again and I can remind him where we come from- The Motherfucking Streets!

I’ve been back to the Comedy Store in Sydney numerous times since and have had some amazing gigs. Once opening for Eddie Ifft and Tony Hinchliffe both from the USA. Even though the staff from the first gig there have moved on to bigger things, I still make a point of bringing a bottle of Jamieson and Cigarettes as my sacrifice to the Comedy Gods and to spread some Christmas cheer no matter what time of year.   

#comedy #sydney #performance #Jamieson #minesites #stories #truestories #thestreets #christmas #merrychristmas #thecomedystore #comedystore #standupcomedy #standup #santa

[seenashwrite]

Notes From Nash: Season 15 Episode 2

We're back! And by that, I don't mean back for episode #2, I mean we're back in the little town, same little town we were in for the majority of episode #1. And as far as how ep #2 compares with ep #1.... um.....  

The writers ain't in no damn rush to advance the plot or further character development, are they? So this is basically ep #1 all over again with some guest star overload as a substitute for those two very important aspects of storytelling I just mentioned.

[stares at date]

They've got *how* many eps to wrap up the show? 

Hoo-boy.

Spoilers below the cut.

Changing it up from last time (see link at bottom), I thought I'd go in order of the ep this post. All right. Let's roll.

From the mom who gets 86'd in the opening------

And, PS: That's not disemboweled. Don't use the word if you (a) don't know what it means and/or (b) won't let make-up/effects do their job.

-----to the rest of the people, I care nothing. There was no point giving all these extras lines and whatever little backstories, I give no fucks. Mainly because, gee, I don't know, I signed up for a show about two brothers goin' out there and gettin' after it, and thus far we've gone about two inches and gotten nothing.

Are we still in this little town?

More questions, borrowing from the dialogue some here:

"Remember when we did the thing with Amara?"

"God's sister?"

"And the soul bomb? And here's how it worked? Remember? Because you participated? REMEMBER?! I'm not just saying this for the benefit of, oh wait, no one, because the chances of brand new viewers coming into the game this late is virtually nil, so everyone - including us, here, in this scene, our characters - already know this backstory, ergo the only reason for exposition anvils is to benefit those viewers, who - as we've already established - likely don't exist. So let's run through this for the benefit of, I have to assume, the writers who don’t actually, you know, watch the show as evidenced by--- well, we’d be here all day."

Nope. No, no. Those aren't questions I had. Because I've been watching the show for a good while now. This exchange should’ve been something to the effect of - “I was thinking - remember how we did the soul bomb, with Amara? Do you think you could pull off something like that? To trap them?” and then Rowena responds with uncertainty but will give it a try, etc. I mean, the writing in this ep is thus far pedestrian.

There's still no explanation for why these ghosts - especially these super notorious ghosts like Ripper and Lizzie and who-fuck-ever - were lingering so close together that they were able to be trapped by the stupidest ex machina spell in the writing world. And what of the others? The entirety of hell escaped. We've seen, what, maybe 20? Could there maybe have been a throw-a-way line to Belphagor something like “Did you corral the worst douchebags together”, or “Is there a bar in hell where the worst douchebags hang out or something”, or “this is just our luck that the worst douchebags landed here” or WHATEVER, just SOMETHING to acknowledge they (the writers) recognize that Convenient Super Bad Ghosts Are Convenient.

IT'S KETCH, BITCHES!

I love this character. What a breath of fresh air that snarky piece of ass has been. I hope he doesn't get killed. He will. Because we can't have anything good. But there is some good, which is the Ketch-Rowena flirting. Honestly, I'm fine with Rowena getting action from anyone. She's awesome and she's earned it. Ketch is primo catch, though. (I'm not sorry for that sentence. I am, but I'm not.)

The repeated use of Belphagor's name pleases myself and my podcast co-host. Should you wish to know more about that demon, please do check out our podcast. Don't look him up first, trust us. That they have chosen this particular demon's name is just *chef's kiss*, though I do hope it's not a foreshadowing for how the rest of the season is going to go. Okay fine, I'll spoil it: he's a shit demon. He deals in poo. Literally. I'm not lying. Go forth to the podcast @youtotallymadethatup​ - just about every post links you to where you can listen. /shameless self-promo

IT'S AMARA, BITCHES!

Let's hope that wardrobe does her better than that ill-fitting black dress this go 'round, she deserves better.

"You're the darkness, I'm the light."

STOP IT. STOP. FUCK. STOP.

Are we still in this little town?

Blah blah blah Castiel Dean angst repeating essentially what's already been said at the end of 14 and last week blah. "You know what's real? We are." Not if it's an alternate timeline, my love. 

I keep forgetting just how many spaced-out chains you need to have strewn about your standard meat packing plant and/or factory, well played, set dec and props. That.... that was sarcasm.. (Look, I got no beef with the crew, they're just playing the cards they've been dealt, and their hands are garbage, just a pile of same ol' same ol' stereotypical, unimaginative stuff, so bless them. I hope every single one of them has a job lined up next year, truly. They have more than paid their dues and earned it. Lord knows especially since certain parties took the reins, good night nurse. I've digressed. )

IT’S KEVIN BI----

This is dumb. This is actually dumb. In case you didn't see my half-time post, and I quote:

That is *three* in under twenty minutes. Like, it’s episode 2. You’re blowing your wad. Pace yourselves. AND MAYBE SOME STORY ADVANCING, THAT WOULD BE AWESOME

This bullet thing could be hella interesting. It *could* be. I wonder if it will be. 

These ghosts are painfully uninteresting. The guy playing the Ripper is horribly miscast. This needed to be someone who... who.... I dunno, is a good actor. He's not. Sorry, Pops. I mean, even Osric (who is an excellent actor) couldn't elevate that scene.

This episode is painful.

Are we still in this little town?

Ketch got knocked out, left alone with ghost, deffo gonna get possessed. 

Are we still talking to these ghosts? Why? Why is Kevin thinking he can go up against them alone? I'm not exactly sure what threat they are to him, can't he just disappear and whoosh somewhere else? I missed something, I must've missed something. It doesn't matter, none of this matters.

Okay, Belphagor says there's at least a hundred. Still, what would that be, like 1/2500000000th of hell? Why are the Winchesters, of all people, and now Rowena concentrating on this stupid little town----

Are. We. Still. In. This. Little. Town.

---why in the fuck aren't the most renowned hunters of modern time and their angel friend and the powerful witch friend and the friend with immense tactical knowledge regarding weaponry for supernatural shit not at the bunker strategizing and planning and... and... and.... I just.... 

Lookit, I've said this before: especially in fantasy/sci-fi stuff, if you are logical in every possible place you can be, if you nail the simple shit, then the audience is exponentially more likely to buy into the fantastical stuff, and also to be more forgiving (or not notice altogether) when you inevitably whiff, because nobody's perfect, of course. But this show in later years has notoriously screwed the pooch on the easy stuff, and here we are, in some needlessly convoluted mess right out of the gate in the last season ever.

::sighs::

Oh, look. Because of course he's possessed. You left him alone with a ghost. I'm neither a professional writer nor a psychic, I'm just thinking "What is predictable as possible?" and saying that. You try it. It's worked for me so far.

"I tried to heal him it didn't work" - well maybe he's still residually possessed. Or maybe you suck. Sorry Cas, you don't deserve that. It's not you. It's not me, either. It's them. It's the writers. I don't know what this line is about unless they're teeing up Cas to be even more neutered than he already is. I legit don't know, I can't think, I'm so irritated right now. 

"Nothing to hold you anywhere" - what? Really? Seriously? So what are you and Dean? Y'all ain't his family? Let that little badass haunt the bunker. He'd be the most awesome research assistant ever. Now THAT is a good plot point, have ol' Kev be home base, helping coordinate whatever's coming. Oh here we go, swishy swishy hand, magic hole, nobody knows why this demon can do all this shit, and Kevin's gone. Why? WHY. My idea is better. No way Osric would blow your guest star budget, it appears to be shaping up to be immense, especially with all the money you've saved so far on location(s). 

Shoulda kept him rest of season, let him assist, then his final reward is getting into heaven for reals when Cas (they'll probs kill him, tho) or Amara (maybe, seems too obvi a choice tho, and she doesn't give a shit about beng a ruler, we knew that back in whatever season that was) or Jack (because why not, it's the most ridiculous idea, since he's got the mind of a toddler, meaning it's something the writers would think is a great idea) or Billie (wild card guess) is the new God. Or have him brought back to life, fuck, I don't care.

So is the bullet trapping Chuckster on earth, is the question, and if so what kind of all-knowing deity puts a weapon in the hand of a potential enemy that could render him even a *touch* weaker? Where's the long game, there? What could any possible reasoning be? 

Okay, well, the scenes between Emily and Rob have been the best part of the episode, as well as the interaction with Ruthie and DHJ. Everything else fell flat. J2M seemed to be bored and phoning it in, and it's not often that can be said about any of those three.

I swear, if the preview shows that we're still in this little town for episode #3.... wait, is that the crypt from ep #1?.... are.... are we..... 

ARE WE STILL IN THIS LITTLE TOWN

What have we learned? Other than Chuck, no character development. The plot remains that some ghosts-interchangeably-used-with-souls from hell are trapped in a confined area, and it was via a tenuous spell provided by a demon whose motivations are unknown, and there's something up with that bullet wound. We knew those already.

(There's possibly something wrong with either Cas or Ketch -- or else that's something that will be completely forgotten was ever mentioned -- but we don't know either way and we don't know what it is, therefore we didn't learn anything; if this does ultimately turn out to be something, then we'll count it as a learned item for that episode.) 

So, minus learning that Chuck is weakened somehow and that at least for right now Amara’s not exactly in his corner, we're in the exact same place story-wise that we were in last week. 

And looks like we'll be back there again next week. 

See you next week, I guess.

=================================

Past posts, from newest to oldest (and I sometimes do addendums if a response warrants)

Episode 1

.

#Supernatural #SPN #15.02 #SPN Spoilers #SPN Season 15 #SPN S15 #SPN XV #Nash Notes #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days #Nash Recaps #sort-of

[mugsywrites]

Homesteading AU that will never be Chapter 2

This is chapter 2, with Merle. Warning for Merle’s thoughts, his head is an ugly place to be. Racism, homophobia, abusive thoughts, etc.

Chapter 2: Merle

Three days later the busy truck stop has been deserted. There are a few trucks scattered by the side of the road.

[STUFF]

This stillness is shattered by the roar of an engine getting louder and louder as a XXford pickup truck peels off the exit, pulling into the truck stop. A man gets out of the truck with a rifle slung over one shoulder, on edge.

[STUFF]

Merle Dixon has no psychic twinge or premonition that three nights ago his brother dragged his boyfriend into the shadows for a kiss not far from the spot where he’s pissing. If he did would have moved over to the side to be sure and water that little patch of grass. Since he doesn’t he finishes, gives the old joystick a shake, and zips up.

[STUFF, Merle Arrives at the Desus House]

After Merle makes sure that Daryl is definitely gone he goes through the house room by room looking for clues on where to search for his sweet baby brother and his sweet baby brother’s pretty boy roommate. He doesn’t dwell on the fact he would have done this even if there was a map on the wall with Daryl’s exact location circled in red ink. Doesn’t on the fact he’s just plain curious; he hasn’t seen or spoken to his brother in almost three years, something he still has trouble believing. All on account of Daryl’s prissy little roommate. The faggy little roommate who had gotten ahold of Daryl’s brain via his dick. The mouthy little roommate who made Daryl buy this house in this shithole town full of bleeding hearts, jigs, and democrats instead of splitting the insurance money with Merle. Aside from the paltry amount Daryl put aside for “when he got out”. The pussy little roommate who kept Daryl’s balls in a sack ‘round his neck for all Merle knew.

Pansy Palace is only big and fancy if he compares it to Daddy’s place up in Sedalia. If he’s being objective then it’s a modest two story colonial-style house that is good sized for a couple with some space left over if said couple were planning on adding some brats. Not that Darlina and his ladyboy roommate need to worry about that. The staircase to the second floor is just opposite the front door. To the left of the staircase is a small kitchen, to the right is living room that opens into a dining area towards the back of the house. There’s a half bath and an office and sliding glass doors that lead out to a patio.

Merle scans each room, cataloging everything in detail. Aside from the kitchen—with cupboards open and in disarray—the rooms look well-lived in but tidy. Merle thinks of Daddy’s place again, where he has not set foot since he was thrown in the clink over five years ago. He and Daryl lived there ever since Will Dixon, their shitheel old man, had a heart attack while watching Wheel of Fortune over twenty years ago. Casa Fagola, home of Darlina and his roommate, looks to be just about as old but in far better shape than Will’s place with its fraying carpets, peeling paint, and leaky roof. The furniture in Fudge-packer Manor matches, something Merle finds irrationally annoying. It looks newish and store-bought, not snatched from a rummage sale or flea market.

New house wasn’t good enough, he needed new furniture too, Merle thinks to himself, his mouth twisting in an ugly line. He thinks back to this spring, a few weeks before his parole hearing that was a waste of everyone’s fucking time. Merle had been edgy during that time, he knew goddamned well he wouldn’t be paroled. Too many black marks on his record after five years in the pokey. Fights, possession of contraband, destruction of other inmates’ property, mouthing off to the guards. He knew he wouldn’t be paroled, but this small sliver of him kept thinking what if. That was the thing, you could tell yourself all the livelong day that you knew you wasn’t getting out, but there was that little voice. What if. Same cocksucking voice he heard when he bought a scratch off ticket, peeling off slivers of latex while what if what if what if jabbered away in his head. That sliver of possibility was crueler than an extra five years on his sentence. Kept imagining what he’d do on his first night out of this place. Pussy being the number one item on that list, a steak at Texas Roadhouse right behind, and finally some crystal. Once he’d satisfied those appetites in that exact order he would track down his dumbass baby brother and help him find his nut sack again. It was with those thoughts swirling in his head that Merle was told he had a request for a visitor, a Mr. Paul J. Rovia. Merle was about to say he had no idea who Paul J. Rovia was when it clicked.

My friend Paul, the one I told you about. He’s moving in with me.

That last conversation he’d had with Daryl, when his sweet baby brother told him that instead of investing his little windfall with Merle’s help he was going to buy Fag Manor here in libtard central. Daryl had gotten up and left when Merle had made it clear what the consequences would be. After everything Merle had done for him Daryl had chosen some namby pamby little queer. He kept waiting for Daryl to come crawling back begging for forgiveness when the roommate fucked off somewhere after bleeding Daryl dry. But year after year passed with not so much as a letter. There were times he almost broke down and called Boyd down in Sedalia to ask if he’d do a favor for his pal Merle. A little one at that, especially since Merle would’ve gotten less time if he’d snitched on the rest of the gang. Just find out where his sweet baby brother was hanging his hat these days, find out who if anyone he was still living with. Simple. Merle never did go that far, in the back of his mind he knew Daryl would spot Boyd and would figure out instantly who’d sent him and why. There was always the chance that even though Daryl had embraced full time faggotry there was enough Dixon in him to start some shit. Shit that would end badly for everyone involved.

But now here Mr. Paul J. Rovia wanted to come for a visit, wanted to look Merle in the eye and talk to him. Merle didn’t even consider turning the request down, he wanted to look Paulyanna in the eye and talk to him as well. He told himself that it was just so he could tell the roommate to go fuck himself once and for all, and that was part of it, but it wasn’t the main reason.

The main reason was that he hadn’t seen his brother in almost three years, had no idea what he was doing, no idea if he missed Merle or thought of him at all.

[STUFF]

[STUFF]

Mr. Paul J. Rovia was already sitting at the little booth when Merle was escorted in. He didn’t stand,  looked up and met Merle’s eyes with a bland expression that did not match his chilly blue eyes. He was handsome, with bluish-green eyes, high cheekbones over a neat beard, and glossy hair that tumbled down to his shoulders. Merle’s first thought was that the guy looked like paintings of Jesus in his grandma’s sitting room growing up. His second thought was that he hadn’t expected the roommate to be this good-looking. His shirt was fitted tight enough for Merle to see he had the lithe, compact little body of a gymnast with surprisingly well-muscled arms and shoulders. Despite that, without a beard he would have looked like a girl with that glossy hair and a wide mouth framed by full red lips that looked like they’d been designed to suck cock.

Merle’s third thought was to wonder— not for the first time— if Daryl had lied to him about how much money was in his insurance settlement, or how much the lawyers would take, or a combination of the two. No way little Mr. Hot Piece would look twice at a bit of redneck trash with the last name of Dixon unless he had good incentive. So. Money, and lots of it. His sweet little Darlina had told Merle that he got a lawyer via his good friend Paul, the very same guy who swooped in like a vulture when he saw a dying Daryl beside the road. Probably called the lawyer before 911.

They studied each other for a few minutes, Mr. Paul “Jesus” Rovia and his pretty dick-sucking lips and bland expression. Pretty good poker face, but it didn’t take Merle long to guess that he was pissed. When Merle realized that he gave him a lazy grin, and that poker face slipped for just a minute before Jesus grabbed the phone on his side of the glass. Merle’s grin widened as he picked up his own phone, “Who the fuck are you, then?”

Jesus rolled his eyes, “You know who the fuck I am. Paul Rovia, you signed off on my visitor’s request. I thought we should chat.”

Merle sucked his lip against his teeth, “You got me. I know who you are— my sweet little Darylina’s best lady friend,” he was surprised to find himself reluctantly respecting the fact that guy got straight to the point like that. Little fucker. “You’re purtier than I thought you’d be. Still roommates?”

Merle’s reluctant respect shattered when Jesus replied in a bored voice, “Yeah. Plus we’re still regularly sodomizing each other, which is a bonus.”

White hot rage descended on Merle then. “Boy, you don’t know how lucky you are this glass is between us. You should march out of here before I decide to try and break it.”

[stuff, convo is identical to the one they had in Ripples, but with Merle’s reactions.]

“Heard you’re up for parole, that is if you didn’t fuck it up. How’s that going?”

“Why you askin’? Gonna invite me over for Sunday morning shopping trips for panty hose?”

“I’m honestly curious about something, Merle. Do you legit think comparing me to a woman is going to piss me off? Or implying that I’m less of a man or whatever because I like dick? Besides, it’s not like you have room to talk, what with you in here getting dicked down on the regular. Guessing you’re the most popular guy on your cell block.”

“I don’t need to know about your jerk off fantasies, you fucking fudge packer, or the disgusting shit you done to my brother,” Merle snarled.

“Oh Merle, your secret is safe with me. I spent a lot of time in juvie, I know guys like you. Loudest homophobes are the quickest to lie back and grab their ankles or follow you around begging to suck your dick.”

“Ooh creampuff, do you want to wrassle with me?” Merle hissed, “You want an ass beating to get your rocks off you don’t need to go through all this, just say the word.”

“Daryl may be scared of you, I’m not,”

“You lying little cocksucker. I dunno what kinda shit you put in his head, make him run off—“

“Holy shit, do you not know?Thought you’d be pleased, I think he’s more scared of you than he ever was of your Daddy. Apple didn’t fall far from the tree there in your case.”

“I ain’t nothing like our daddy, you candy ass little scrotum. Daryl ain’t scared of me.”

“He is terrified of you; he’s had me spend the past three years learning how to shoot a gun and looking over his shoulder because he’s worried you’ll have your inbred white supremacist buddies come beat him or kill him. He’s been a basket case since he realized you could be getting out soon to beat him or kill him personally.”

“Look at you sittin’ there in your fancy clothes with your yankee accent acting like I’m some kinda monster, to hurt my own kin, my blood. You see a guy like me and see nothin’, see a guy who won’t listen to your bullshit—”

“You know what I see when I look at you?” Jesus interrupted, “Trash. Straight up fucking garbage. And it’s really important that you realize I don’t see that because you’re poor, or from Buttfuck, Georgia, or are into redneck shit like hunting and fucking your cousins. Except for that last one I could be describing Daryl and I think he’s pretty great. No, you’re garbage because of the shit you choose to do. To him especially.”

“So why are you here then, if I’m the bogeyman?”

“I’m here because—even though you’re trash and don’t deserve him—Daryl for some reason still loves you. Which makes you also my fucking cross to bear. In my ideal world you’d fuck off somewhere and never come back, but I think he misses you. If you could choose to stop being a dick for thirty minutes then he wouldn’t mind hearing from you, so feel free to give him a call and let him know you’re not going to kick his ass. But if you show up and hurt him in any way or try dragging him down to your level I’m going to kill you.”

Merle stared at him in disbelief before he chuckled, “Oh sweetheart, I would love to see you try.”

“Please, a child could get rid of your dumb ass. Cut the brake line on your bike. Or set the shack you live in on fire one night when you’re all pilled up. Or just walk in blow your head off instead, cops would find you and think one of your tweaker besties went nuts. Nothing of value would be lost and no one would miss you except for Daryl. He’s used to that by now.”

Merle laughed again: “Oh honey bunch, you are feisty. Hissin’ and spittin’ just like a kitten. You know what I think? Think you the one that’s afraid. Daryl knows I’d never hurt him, I think you’re afraid once I get out he’ll find his balls again and quit buyin’ you houses and whatever else you got him doing.”

“Whatever helps you live with yourself. Saddest thing about you isn’t that you’re trash, it’s that you don’t have to be. You could just, y’know, stop. Like I said, he still loves you for some fucking reason and would be happy to see you if you could act like a human being. But guys like you never do. Goodbye, it wasn’t nice meeting you.”

[STUFF]

That night Merle found Fabrizio in the showers and gave him the nod. Later when the little Guinea fuck had his mouth around Merle’s cock he heard ol’ Jesus mocking words, bet you’re the most popular guy on your cellblock, playing on a loop in his head. When closed his eyes instead of imagining past conquests like Ruby Sawyer or that sexy bitch XXXX, it was Jesus. Imagined how those full lips would look swollen and bruised and red after, and as he did he arced his hips forward and came with the force of a gunshot.

That night he laid awake in his bunk while Ellis Crowder snored and farted in the bed above him, restless and angry, still hearing Jesus’s mocking voice.

What with you in here getting dicked down on the regular.

Fucking fudge-packer and his fucking disgusting fantasies. Fucking Daryl and his tender little heart. Merle should have sat down with Daryl back when he was still young and impressionable and explained a few things to him. Like how getting your dick sucked when you were behind bars-be it juvie or prison—was one thing. Hell, some guys were better at it than women, could make it feel fucking amazing. So Merle understood that part of it, how a guy could give you a blowjob so good you saw stars. How you could maybe get addicted to it, start thinking that thing was ok full time. Easier and more convenient than going after a woman. Especially sweet young ladies like his precious little Darlina. Too late now.

Loudest homophobes were the quickest to lie back and grab their ankles or follow you around begging to suck your dick.

Merle felt a spike of rage, remembering the little queer claiming he sodomized Daryl, and his hands twitched involuntarily as he imagined wrapping them around Jesus’ neck and squeezing. Never, Merle thought, Daryl’d never! His brother might be tender-hearted and sweet but Merle’s time making him into a man couldn’t have been completely wasted. The kid was tough, and the thought that he’d let Mr. Pretty Boy Jesus do that to him was absurd. Getting your dick sucked was one thing, fucking a guy was one thing—after all, a mouth was a mouth and an asshole was an asshole whether they were attached to a man or a woman. A man needed something beside his hand for five years. But by the same token a dick was a dick, and only fags liked those in their mouths or up their asses. Fags got off on doing that kind of shit. Take Fabrizio, Merle hardly ever beat him off afterward as a thank you for services rendered but the guy still came running with his mouth agape when Merle or any other guy with more muscle than fat gave the nod. Fuck, when Merle was back in juvie and didn’t know any better he’d given his fair share of head in exchange for some of his own, but he hadn’t enjoyed it. Some tit for tat, quid pro quo, I scratch your back you scratch mine. That was before Merle realized some guys would…how did Jesus put it? Lay back and grab their ankles or follow you around begging to suck your dick. That’d never been Merle, little queer was probably just projecting; he’d probably be the one in juvie to do all that. If ol’ Jesus was in prison now he’d be the most popular guy not just on the cell block but the entire dang prison. Guys’d be lined up by the dozens to run a train on him and he’d love every second. He’d be good at it too, Merle knew that for a fact, had to be good to get Daryl so whipped he was buying houses and refusing to see his brother who was rotting away in jail.

[STUFF, he’s back in the Desus house looking at their shit]

The walls are covered in collages of photographs of various sizes. Many of them are black and white so at first Merle dismisses them as some arty farty shit they’d gotten at a tourist shop. But then out of the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of something familiar and takes a closer look. It’s a shot of a rocking chair in the middle of a field, taken at around sunset. Its only when you look at the figure seated in the chair that you realize how big the thing is, fifteen feet high at least. The man in the chair has his arms stretched out like Jesus on the cross and can just barely touch the chair’s armrest and his feet don’t touch the edge. In the light of the shot his features are indistinct and shadowy but the silhouette is enough for Merle to recognize his brother.

[He has a flashback to when Daryl was a little boy, around five or so. Sitting in his rocking chair with a stuffed Kermit the Frog, and Merle telling him that only fags had stuffed animals. ]

On one wall there’s a framed menu of a place called the Sweet Shack Barbecue. It’s designed to look a little like an old-timey newspaper, with inked etchings of smiling pigs dressed in top hats and tuxedos. One drawing has a group of pigs with wide smiles sat down at a dinner table. On the table is another pig, only this one is on a plate with an apple in its mouth and little x’s in place of eyes.

He finds Daryl in another photo. This one is a closeup of a regal moth cupped delicately in the palm of a man’s hand, and Merle can just see the corner of the little blue star Daryl has tattooed on his wrist.

[STUFF]

A pit bull with its mouth open in a wide, doggie grin leaning out of a motorcycle sidecar. Its wearing a red bandana with the University of Georgia logo and matching red goggles. Merle thinks of the “Warning: Pit Bull” sign on the side gate and guesses this is Darlina’s pet dog. They always had a mutt or two around since they was kids, and his sweet baby brother adored them.  Merle felt his fingers close into his fist at the overt faggotry of it, dressing your dog up.

[STUFF, IN THE KITCHEN]

The fridge is covered in kitschy souvenir magnets—St. Petersburg, Tarpon Springs, Cumberland Island, St. Augustine, Savannah, Gatlinburg, Asheville, Helen. There’s also a black magnet with “GO DAWGS!” in bright red, and another one with Uga, the white bulldog that’s the Georgia mascot. On the side of the fridge is a whiteboard with a blue marker on a string. He recognizes Daryl’s chicken scratches that make up the written to-do list.

1)Lou’s rabies shot 2)replace brake lights on Paul’s bike 3)Mow lawn 4)shoot douchebags on Oakhurst St

Underneath the last item is a note written in neat block letters: babe don’t shoot neighbors until I’m back & can bail you out.

[Merle goes through the house some more]

Merle isn’t a man who’s ever understood himself well, so he doesn’t bother to analyze the way looking at Daryl’s house makes him feel. Pissed off, jealous, afraid, guilty. The house isn’t what he expected at all. Not the frayed mess of Daddy’s place, but neat and homey. It's like finding out he never knew Daryl at all. He isn’t sure what he expected to find—he had a vague idea of some faggy shit like rainbows all over everything, nude portraits on the wall, a fucking gimp costume hanging from the hook on the door or a collection of dildos on the shelf. He doesn’t find anything like that, not in the living area or in the master bedroom.

He does find a box of condoms that looked old as fuck and a mostly empty bottle of Astroglide that doesn’t.