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words-for-holland · 3 years

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Always Yours

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Sometimes dating a celebrity is hard...but Tom & Y/N have always said no matter what happens they could get through anything. Some angst but a lot of fluff.

A/N: So sorry for leaving yall hanging! Life is just crazy right now and this blog needs a lot of TLC tbh!! Also ehh I def dont think this was my best work but enjoy?

“Oof” Y/N lets out as she plops on to her boyfriend who was lying comfortable on the couch. Tom groaned at the impact with a cheeky smile on his face, his arms instantly wrapping around Y/N’s frame.

“Y’know..there are empty seats right there.” The soft brown-eyed boy gestured with the flick of his thick head as Y/N raises her eyes looking down at him, pretending to be slightly offended.

“Oh I see how it is then. It’s cool...Ill just cuddle with Tessa instead. I know she would welcome me with open arms instead of—” As she slowly starts getting off his chest, Tom is quick to pull her back in, securing her with his strong arms. “No baby, I was just kidding. I want you right here, and Im never letting you go.” he pleas.

The only thing Y/N could manage was letting out a fit of giggles into his chest, a sound that Tom adored and would do absolutely anything to hear every minute of every day. They stay like this for a while enjoying the feeling of each other as they both run their hands into each others hair, the feeling of their chests moving up and down, the subtle thumps of their heartbeats, and the little slips of adoration that came out of their mouths. It was peaceful. A moment that nobody could really take a way because it was theirs.

Y/N casually pulls up her phone, and scrolls through Twitter when she noticed a particular tweet on her timeline. Her eyebrows furrow, as she read the 160 character message.

Why Tom Holland Should Be With Aaliyah Cole and Dump Y/N: A Thread.

She knew it wasnt a good idea to open up the thread. She knew very well that everything within the shallow string of tweets would be a complete waste of her time because it was made up by fans who just wanted to satisfy their fantasy of shipping Tom with his co-star. Who can blame them? They always had great chemistry, but it was part of the job and thats all it would ever be.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Tom murmurs, as he places soft kisses at the crown of her head. “Whats going on?” She was lucky her phone was facing away from Tom, quickly closing the app and pretending to be on one of her many tabs in Safari.

“Mmm..nothing.” Y/N lies softly, a tight-lipped smiled plastered on her face.

“Absolute bullocks. Youre not a very good liar.” He chuckles. “Tell me darling. Whats on your mind?”

Y/N rolls her eyes in response. She’s heard that comment one too many times in her life from everyone shes known. After not giving it much thought, she gives in, sighing heavily. “Dont judge me for what Im about to say.”

“Mmm...I think it might depend on wha— Ow” Tom reacts as he playfully rubs the side of his chest that Y/N hit. “Okay too soon for jokes. Go on.”

Again, Y/N sighs as she props herself up. “Its just ... well a lot of your fans keeps talking about wanting you to get with Aaliyah.” She looks down trying not to make eye contact with Tom, who she’d imagine was looking at her with annoyance.

Tom rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness. Not so much at Y/N but the fact that some of his fans just didnt want to accept the fact that he was happy with Y/N. If it had to come from his mouth to stop the stupid rumors and give his girlfriend peace, then hed gladly yell it from the rooftops for everyone to hear. “Thats it Im making a statement about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in fear, scrambling to prevent him from grabbing his phone on the table next him. “No no no no.” She repeatedly declines. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“Darling, Im not going to stand here and watch you get all insecure because of their delusional ship.”

“Yeah well Im not gonna be the reason your fans hate me because Im getting in the way of your friendship with Aaliyah Cole.” She fires back.

Tom was ready to open his mouth only to be cut off once again. “And you know better. That is how your fans will always see it.”

“Okay, are you done?” He calmly asked, cautiously observing her. Rarely did Y/N ever get worked up about anything, but when she had her tangents, Tom always made sure she got off everything she needed to say before he becomes her voice of reason.

“Yeah, I guess.” she says feeling defeated. “Look its whatever and Im tired, can we just let this go and forget this whole conversation even happened?”

Tom was unconvinced, but didnt want to push her further. So reluctantly, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Y/N as they both tried to lull themselves to sleep.

***

Y/N wasnt sure how she ended up in the Tube. It was strange how the lights flickered off the rusted tile floor. The train was no where to be seen, but off to the side of the railroads was pitch black, she could hardly see beyond. To her right she noticed herself standing in the corner of the room, and to her surprise Aaliyah was there. Her milk chocolate kissed skin, and fashionably long frizzy hair dropped down past her shoulders. Her figure long and poised, as she wore a rain jacket and sweats. An outfit only she could pull off and make it look like she was a model for Vogue. Aasliyah smiles brightly at Y/N.

“Hey Y/N.” She says cheerfully as a genuine friend would.

To Y/N’s surprise she greeted her back in the same tone. “Hey Aaliyah...uhh whats going on?” Y/N wasnt sure if she wanted the answer of how they both ended up in the Tube or if she truly wanted to know how her day went.

“Well Im getting ready to present at the Oscars.” She replies, a smile plastered as if she was so excited about it, almost too excited like she was keeping a secret.

“Really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! Im so proud of you Aaliyah! Who are you taking?”

Aaliyah pauses for a few moment looking back and forth, making sure no one else was around. “Okay can you keep a secret?” She whispered.

Y/N nods her head slowly, not having the slightest clue of what was going on. “Im taking Tom. I think he really likes me, and well...I like him too! Do you think maybe I should ask him when we go?” Aaliyah asked genuinely. It was almost like she had no recollection of Y/N and Tom being a couple. “I think we would look good together. Everyone is already making rumors and ships about us.”

Y/N backs aways lowly only to bump into a broad figure. As she turns around she sees Tom, emotionless and almost sad. “Y/N.” He speaks out. “I dont think this is going to work out. Im leaving you.”

Y/N’s heart quickens, and her breaths become shorter as she tries to find a way to run. Running and running into the darkness, until all she could hear was Tom’s faint voice calling out her name.

***

“Y/N! Y/N! Baby wake up please.” Tom cries as he gently shakes his girlfriend from her disturbed sleep.

Quickly Y/N opens her eyes and clutches on to Toms hoodie firmly. Back home, and in Toms arms. It was a dream was all she thought. A sigh of relief escaping from her mouth.

“Darling...” he speaks softly, worried about his girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looks up at him and nods frantically. “Mmm..bad dream.”

“Yeah it seemed like it. You were so frightened...I was scared. What happened?” He’s looking at her, trying to read her saddened eyes, wanting to desperately understand what scared her so he could make it all go away for her.

Y/N looks down at her fiddling hands, as she sits on the couch. “I uhh...” she lets out a chuckle, thinking of the ridiculousness of it all. “I uhh...dreamed about Aaliyah going to the oscars and saying how she loved you and how you two are perfect for each other. When I turned around I saw you but you werent happy and said you were leaving me.”

Tom doesnt say a word, all he could think about was how sorry he felt to put Y/N in this position. Though both of them knew, It wasnt Toms fault, or anyone’s for that matter. Feelings are feelings and that was okay. No human being was ever born perfect and without insecurities.

Y/N always tried to be a good sport with situations like this knowing every shippers theory and evidence were hardly ever true, but at some point there was only so much she could take before it all came out like an oil spill. Maybe it was a sign that she wasnt good enough to be with Tom if half of his fanbase thought this way as well.

Tom cradled her into his arms again, holding her tightly and kissing the top of her head. “Darling, I know youre still doubting yourself about all of this, but please believe me when I tell you that I love you so so much and no matter what happens...Im always yours.” He whispers gently in her ear. “It was only a dream and these ridiculous rumors and theories are just that. No one woman in the world could ever make me feel the way I feel for you.”

Y/N blinks softly, as she stares into space. Afraid and in a weird way ashamed, its funny how something so small and so minimal could affect her self-esteem so greatly. Tom gently brings her head up, so her eyes can meet his. He rolls his thumb on the bottom of her soft lips. “Hey, I love you.” Tom smiles.

Time stopped for the both of them the moment Y/N looked into his eyes, she felt safe. All the bad words and thoughts slowly disappear. Tom was right, none of the things that anyone said about their relationship mattered. She knew Tom loved her, and how much she truly loved him. Isnt that enough? Of course not. It was more than enough. A smile slowly forming on Y/N’s face. “Theres that smile I love so much.” He comments.

“Im sorry, for being such a —”

“No. Its okay. You have a right to feel the way you did.” He picks up her hand and leaves a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much Tom.” She says pressing her lips to his. “I dont deserve you.”

“Darling, its me that doesnt deserve you. Im always yours.” Tom proclaims as he kisses her back.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Gimme Love, 8/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Oof! After this part, we have one more chapter. Things start to look a little bit better for Brie in this part of the story. Not completely, but she's getting there. Enjoy!

TW for this chapter: mental health mentions

2020

A week later, still no change on the Ed Sheeran thing. Launch day was just around the corner, and my nerves were wrecked. And Jujubee still hadn't spoken a word to me.

It was only morning time, and I hadn't even been awake for 5 minutes. Already so many things were playing in my mind.

I still hadn't reinstalled Messenger. So I had no idea whether Blair had replied or not. I really wanted to just forget about her already, but it was slow. I probably should have applied for counselling sessions with HR. I hired a lady a few years prior named Dela, and apparently, she was brilliant.

But therapy could wait until after the launch.

I had seen Jujubee at work a few more times, either making eye contact and looking away just as quick or trying to say hello at least. She'd just brush by.

I tried texting her but never received a reply. As much as she had pissed me off, I missed her. A lot.

"Hey, this is Jujubee. Leave a message."

Beep.

"Hey, Juju, it's me." I paused, struggling to figure out where to go from there, "Look, I...I know things are bad between you and me. But I...I don't want to lose you."

I couldn't think of what else to say.

'Please, talk to me?'

'You mean a lot to me.'

My silence was going on too long. "I...hope to see you at the prelaunch party...OK. Bye"

I hung up, burying my face in my pillow, feeling very pathetic. And because I was impatient, I thought to try reinstalling Messenger and try there.

Or was that too much? And did I really want to risk seeing a reply from a certain someone?

...Fuck it, I was doing it. I'd just ignore her. Yeah, I'd do that.

Blair: Wow. I didn't think…

I never clicked a message quicker. I sat up with my back against the headboard, eyes already reading the message.

Blair: Wow. I didn't think you'd actually reply! For sure, girl, we need to hang out! I'm in New York for two weeks anyway. Perfect timing, right? Give me a call as soon as you get this. TTYL.

"Oh my God." I let the phone slip into my lap. How was this real? How the fuck hadn't she found that message creepy? Were things starting to look up? I couldn't just leave her on read. It was sent last week, meaning she was still in New York.

Good. This was good.

But still, why didn't she address the confession to my feelings? Why was she avoiding the subject?

Sorry, you have to hear my innermost thoughts, all these questions. It just goes to show the whirlwind my head was experiencing.

Make a move, Brie.

My thumb hovered over the phone icon in the upper right corner. Do I just...do it?

Yes.

I clicked the button. It rang for a few seconds, the nerves telling me to just give up.

"Hello?"

Why the fuck do the people on the other end always say 'hello' like they didn't see who is calling them?

Why was I even thinking that?? Focus, Brie.

"Hi," I said.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd call." She sounded surprised.

"I'm sorry I keep doing this," I said too quickly. "Anyway, yes. Let's hang out."

There was a moment of silence, and I realised how panicked I sounded.

"Brianna, are you OK?" I heard the concern.

"What? Yeah! Of course, I am." I cleared my throat, "Just a bit...stressed out. Trying to...deal with this launch thingie and...deal with Ed Sheeran, I don't know," I laughed nervously before almost slapping some sense into myself, "I'm not majorly stressed out, though. I can still hang out."

She laughed. And fuck I realised just how much I missed it.

"You always made me laugh. You wanna grab a coffee?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Great! When are you free? I would say today, but I'm stuck with this thingie…" She replied.

And a thought hit me. "Actually... there's gonna be a party for my thing. It's for that project I told you about...back on Prom night, I don't know if you remember."

"Of course I do, Brie. I've been following all the media coverage. It's pretty awesome."

"You have been?" I sounded a little too excited and then reminded myself to not sound too desperate, "I mean, that's pretty cool. But yeah, there's a party the night before the launch. I could add you to the list."

"Yeah, of course! I'd love to come."

"Fantastic. I'll send you the details."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then."

"Thanks."

"I can't wait."

"Me too."

"Bye, Brianna."

"Bye, Blair."

She did the awkward half-spoken "bye, bye, bye," and hung up.

I threw my phone down onto my duvet and puffed out a breath of air.

"Yes!" I punched the air, "Yes. Fucking yes."

Shit was definitely looking up.

I found myself loading up my emails. "Dear Ed Sheeran, I appreciate your enthusiasm about participating in our project. However, after some thinking, we would love for you to perform at the event instead. This is strictly for your safety and the safety of everyone else. Sorry for the inconvenience. Kindest regards, Brianna Caldwell and team."

Sent. Easier than I thought.

No matter what the reply would be, I felt strong. Two problems down in less than ten minutes.

All that was left was Jujubee and Mom.

Fuck...the Mom problem.

It wasn't that I didn't love her. I adored the woman with all my heart. But I was still afraid of that recurring conversation, the memories of how I was a problem child. And if it wasn't that, it was my Grandpa.

Funny how those were always the recurring topics, things I didn't want to address. And now, on top of things, we were going to have to talk about Piggie's health.

I sent her money for his medical bills, so maybe things were different for him.

But still, the other topics of conversation I just wish we could avoid…If only there was something else to talk about...

Wait.

I stared at my phone and instantly became very still.

There was one subject that had gone unaddressed for so long - too long. Oh, God.

Half an hour later, I was in the kitchen, shaky hands pouring a cup of coffee. I couldn't call Mom immediately. I needed to will myself, build up my willpower.

After two cups, I found Mom's name in my phone book, hesitated to hit call but forced myself.

I breathed deeply, taking a seat at the breakfast counter and put the phone to my ear.

Ring...Ring...Ring...Ring…

She answered but was silent.

"Mom?" I spoke.

"Hey, honey." She sounded deflated.

"Did you get the money?" That was all I could think of to start with.

"Yeah. It's actually really helped. He's already showing improvement." She paused. "Thanks, baby."

It was painful how thankful she sounded, yet so miserable.

"Mom, I'm gonna come see you," I confirmed.

"Really?"

"Yeah." I smiled upon hearing how she lightened up. "I'm sorry about last week. My phone just...cut off, I guess."

I heard a sniff before she spoke again, "It's OK. When are you coming around?"

"Well, I got the launch this week, so maybe not now. How about 2 weeks?"

"Yeah, that's perfect. I have a job interview to prepare for anyway. I applied to this new boutique that opened in town. My interview is next week."

"That's great!" I was actually excited for her. Things weren't just looking up for me, it seemed. "I'm really happy for you."

"Yeah, me too. I'm not even nervous. Just ready to start working again. Anyway, how about you?"

"Actually, Mom…" I paused, squeezing my hand into a tight fist.

"What's wrong, Brianna?" She lowered her tone.

How did she know? I didn't even sound sad. Mothers intuition? Because I always thought that was bullshit. Like, if I was a Mom, I'd be the worst in picking up on things.

"You there?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, I just…" I licked my lips and swallowed. "Mom. Why was I adopted?" I sighed. "Why did they give me up, Mom?"

She was silent for a moment. I could practically feel how she turned cold. "It's time, isn't it?"

I nodded, not that she would see, "Yeah. I...I need to know."

"OK...How about we talk about that when you come here?" She asked.

"No. I...wanna know. I need to know." My voice cracked. "Or I won't be able to move on."

She's silent again…just for a moment. And I felt like I crossed a line.

But she spoke. I hadn't crossed any line.

"OK...Brianna? I just want you to know that I love you, and I always will. No matter what, I'll never stop loving you." Her own voice was cracking now. "When you came into my life, I never realised I could be so happy, how I felt when I met you. You were this...little light that brightened the dark...a reminder that life wasn't so bad. And I promised I'd give you the best life. I'd be the best parent you'd ever have." She paused again. And I knew she was crying. "Brie, it wasn't that your parents didn't want you. I'm sure they knew that they would have been the luckiest parents in the world." She was crying. "Brie. They...they went for a drive one night. And it was raining really bad. And they…"

She was silent. But I nodded slowly, my eyes just staring at the counter, glassy with tears. "I-I understand."

"I'm sorry, baby." She whimpered. "I should have told you this years ago. I...I didn't know it would affect you for this long. I'm such an idiot."

I held my forehead in my hand. "No. No, Mom. You're not. You had no idea." I sniffed.

"I know. I know. But I just...I...How do you tell a child something like that?"

"Don't worry about that, you idiot. I know now." One of the tears finally slid down my cheek. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Brianna."

I smiled, wiping the tear away. And then a quiet laugh escaped. "OK, I can't lie. I don't wanna leave you like this right now. Let's talk some shit or something."

She laughed in return. "God, you and your potty mouth."

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #high school au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw mental health mentions

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angrycowboy · 4 years

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Okay, time for coffee and rewatch!

I did a rewatch last night after watching it live and flailed at @haloud, because this episode was everything I wanted for the premiere and getting the show back. It made me hurt and it made me happy and it made me excited for all the things to come.

After I’m done with this, it’s off to find a decent download and start giffing!

- I love the little Echo flashback. I mean, I think it’s interesting to include Max mentioning the Alighting and the whole “savior” thing. Though, I wonder if it’s going to come into play more than just the mentions in this episode that allowed Liz to connect the dots about Max. But I am heart eyes at this cute Echo moment.

- Liz’s “you smell like rain” comment is also interesting. I am just gonna sit here and think about Maria’s comment about Michael smelling like a river now and what is up with these aliens.

-Jeez, Liz and Rosa. Oh my god, Rosa. And Liz, with tears on her face, needing to switch into crisis mode.

- Graffitti! Omg Rosa’s artwork. “We don’t believe in humans” Omg I love it.

-This is an Arturo Ortecho appreciation blog. He’s adorable being so proud of Liz. I just smile at this scene so hard. It’s perfect.

- “I reject good-bye” I love Maria DeLuca, y’all.

- So in my happy place headcanon, Michael did just get some sort of flash about Max’s death, left the Pony, and basically has been avoiding Maria ever since. Simplest explanation and I can live with it.

- BUT as always, my biggest gripe with the show, it’s been two weeks and no one has talked to one another. Though I kinda understand Liz avoiding everyone while she’s trying to deal with Rosa.

-”Came to vent about Michael Guerin ghosting me” Yeah, I mean, I’m glad that the show established this right off the bat. Especially after this fucking hellatus this fandom decided to go through in regards to Miluca. I’m actually happy about this. But see ya’ll? Fucking overreaction central.

- “And now just one more Roswell good time before I hit the road.” The delivery on this, and the look on Liz’s face. Fuck, Jeanine just nailed every scene in this episode.

- Michael Guerin, Resident PigPen and Disaster Bi, stumbling int the church and shoving his way into a filled pew. Oh, Michael, you are a mess and I love you so much.

- Oh, Isobel. Also, I love the overacting in the beginning when Isobel is trying to talk about Noah vs how she changes when she starts speaking about Max instead. I love that use of Noah’s funeral to publicly mourn Max. It’s so good.

- Fuck, this flashback to the cave. To Isobel seeing Max dead. OUCH.

- Oh my god, the staple of every funeral and wake - people bringing way too much food and it’s all the same fucking thing. ISOBEL GIRL, I FEEL YOU.

- “Mrs. Evans! That’s a phenomenal cape.” Listen y’all, have I mentioned how much I love this sad disaster alien cowboy? Cuz I do. A lot. He is a MESS.

- I really love this shot of Alex watching Michael at the wake. Just that little bit of concern - it’s so Alex and I love him so much. And I operate under the “if Alex knows, Kyle knows” and vice versa, which means that Alex isn’t watching Michael like this because he knows Michael is spiraling because of Caulfield and Max, he thinks Michael is only spiraling because of Caulfield.

- Kyle being all practical and realistic about dealing with Jesse, and Alex is just like YOLO LET HIM DIE. Like I kinda love how Alex just kinda doesn’t want to deal with Jesse.

- “I’m not a murderer.” “No, you’re not. But he is.” Also, are we gonna talk about Alex’s little eyebrow raise and the look in his eyes, and how he’s still possibily talking about himself? Cuz, oh my god. I have feelings. Alex Manes, you stubborn bastard, I love you so much. (cc: @ober-affen-geil)

- “Seemed like a kiss at least worthy of a text back.” Oh Maria, my darling. You keep holding onto the hope you have for him, because girl, you are gonna need it with this massive spiral of his.

- “Regulars shouldn’t drink alone when they’re grieving.” Oof. The fact that Maria thinks Michael is acting like this because of Noah is dead kinda yikes, and really just makes me desperately want her in on everything else that is going on, because it just makes it so obvious how little she knows. But I also like that line because he comforted her in 1x07, no questions asked, and in a way she’s doing the same back for him. She’s telling him she’s there if he needs someone.

- SHERIFF VALENTI WITH HER HAIR DOWN. I LOVE IT.

- Also her and Ann. “Graffiti is an early indicator of gang violence.” Ann Evans is the epitome of suburban white mom. I love Michelle Valenti just nodding along, like yeah, I’ll get right on that and not looking into this suspicious shit surrounding your son and your son-in-law.

- Lol @ this little public display of anger between Liz and Isobel.

- Oh shit, the fact that Liz hasn’t told Rosa about the cover-up is interesting, because that means that’s definitely coming. And oh my god, I cannot wait.

- ALSO I CANNOT BELIEVE WE WERE ROBBED OF THIS HUG.

- “a glowing ooze filled egg coffin from outer space” Listen, if that’s not the most accurate outsider description of the pods ever. (Also creepy Noah scenes are creepy.)

- Liz talking about burying Max, y’all that shit HURTS. Like, obviously we know that isn’t gonna happen but the fact that Liz and Rosa are sitting talking about it as a finite ending in that moment is just... OUCH.

- “...where’s my hole t-shirt?” um... as of 1x04 it was in the backpack that Fredrico returned! What’cha doing with it, Liz?

- God, Liz and Rosa is just so perfect. “I never thought we’d get to have this stupid fight again.” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

- Isobel, darling. What are those pajamas. They’re wild.

- “I meant to call - I heard you and Evans broke up” So that does establish that Kyle was too preoccupied dealing with Jesse, and Liz has been singularly focused on Rosa that they haven’t talked in the two weeks. Cool cool cool.

- “Lemme guess? Alien thing?” Kyle is so tired of this shit.

- Omg Maria beating people at pool. I love it. I love her. More of that please! Also this outfit she wears is super cute. FIGHT ME.

- Mimi and more alien movie references!

- “It’s been ten years since [Rosa] died.” “Not always.” I love love love the roundabout ways Mimi is telling the truth about the things she knows. When you don’t have all the facts, of course it would sound like she’s not making sense, and of course it would appear to present as dementia. But what does she know that she’s even talking in this kinda code at all? And why? And what’s up with the wandering?

- This scene with Kyle and Rosa is fabulous. “Ten years and my half-brother is still pining for my sister. Cool cool cool.”

- Hahaha “What’s your drug of choice?” “Why quarterback, you wanna party?” I LOVE THIS ENTIRE SCENE SO MUCH IT’S HILARIOUS AND FANTASTIC.

- Upon rewatching, it’s much more obvious about the hows and whys of Kyle not knowing Max was dead. Because I missed all of that the first time around, and thought it came out of left field, but it really actually doesn’t.

- Rosa is clearly like, “when the hell did Kyle fucking Valenti get so smart?”

- this continued implication that Alex shows up at the Airstream and just basically invites himself in will never not completely fuck me up about them

- A FUCKING GUITAR LIKE HOW DARE THIS SHOW

- Okay first off, where the fuck is Alex? Is this his new house? Why does Michael know where to find him? Is this Jesse’s house and Alex is housesitting while he’s in a coma? It’s also the same place as this shot Carina posted over the summer that we all died over. Can’t wait to maybe get an definite answer to that (and also, what happened to the cabin). Just the fact that Michael knows exactly where to find Alex when all through S1 Alex always came to the Airstream is again, more shit about them that just fucks me up.

- Michael mentioning Alex had said he was getting out of the Air Force to make music... um, question. Where? When? I am going to handwave this because I can handle it may have gotten cut, and Alex did talk about fighting his own battles and not his fathers in 1x13. And I can see them having talked a bit about it during their junkyard talk in 1x10 too.

- “came back the next morning after clearer heads had prevailed - wanted to show you something.” Okay, Alex, honey, We need to talk about this. Michael just saw and felt his mother die, giving him a folder with that information, with that photo, is not how you should be going about this. I get it - Alex operates on having as much information as possible. If it exists, he wants it to make the informed decision. But that’s not Michael. And Alex pushes just a bit too hard, and Michael snaps. And I love this scene because Michael says things that needed to be said between them. Michael needed to say them, and Alex needed to hear them.

-ugh that photo... but if there’s prop consistency, then it’s interesting that it took a year after the crash for Michael’s mom to end up a prisoner at Caulfield. It really makes me excited for the flashbacks, because if she wasn’t caught in the initial melee after the crash, how did it happen?

- Alex’s little “hey” when MIchael pushes the folder back into him. Just. Fuck me up, okay? I’ll be here, in the middle of the floor, sobbing. It’s just, it makes it so obvious they’re no where near being on the same page. And Alex’s asking if he left, and if Michael would come with him - it really reads like a hail mary attempt on his part. Because he’s still thinking in that moment, that Michael will say yes, like Michael always says yes. Alex doesn’t really know what it’s like for Michael to say “no” to him.

- “I wanna be good for somebody.” (and with the fucking Malex theme playing over them what the fuuuuuuuck) 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

- Hahaha Isobel using the good crystal to practice - THAT’S MY GIRL

- Handprint talk! Also lol @ Liz mentioning the handprint Max gave her in 1x13 during sexytimes and Kyle, not knowing what she’s talking about immediately just assuming she’s talking about the one from the pilot. Though it’s interesting that neither Liz nor Michael had residual physical handprints show up, but we know Liz was able to still feel Max die in 1x13

- “exorcising demons” Yoooo, I am here for this Isobel. She is determined, and she wants her life back and she is going to take it by force if necessary. Also, that’s a fantastic use for that good crystal.

- But it also breaks my heart a bit because she clearly is in this huge denial about Max. She really believes that she can bring him back if she tries hard enough, if she focuses and learns. And the way Michael is just... so resigned to this whole thing. His hope is just... gone.

- “Max’s heart was weakened before he decided to lasso lightning” Michael really does get some great lines. But omg he’s so angry, and he’s so determined to get Isobel to see reason.

- Ahhh Liz and Rosa. Also, Liz in the bathroom. Breaking down because she’s got that moment to herself to finally break. That scene in the shower. It always just fucks me up. It’s fucked me up since the first time I saw it at NYCC, and it still fucks me up now.

- These nightmares are creepy as fuck.

- ‘Don’t treat me like the little sister.” OH SNAP, LIZ ORTECHO.

- I adore messy flirty disaster Michael. And smiling through a punch? Oh, Michael.

- The way Liz’s mind works, just bouncing and making those connections and conclusions and realizing how there might still be hope for Max. Woo boy, I need to take some time to process that (and don’t get me started on Michael’s loss of hope).

- “So she wants to use Noah’s heart? He’s the actual devil.” TOO RIGHT YOU ARE, ALEX.

- Also, this is @el-gilliath‘s fault but Alex brings up that when cremated, the aliens give off toxic fumes - so what does that mean for Caulfield? All those aliens would have been burned alive someone somewhere would have noticed then, right?

- Alex is so soft looking in this scene.

- Which is hilarious cuz the next scene is him throwing the morgue doctor agains the wall.

- “I thought he was you.” Oh boy. Let’s not even begin to unpack that.

- Aaaaah this scene. Okay first off, fuck Flint. I hate him. “There’s a chain of command in this family.” Oooooh boy, so we’re gonna see that this season, right? Cuz I am so curious about the other two brothers and their involvement as well.

- “there’s a sealed incinerator at area 51, can’t exactly storm the place” I’VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU, ALEX. But it’s nice to see confirmation that Liz knows that Alex knows about everything too. Woo hoo, communication!

- “Flint was the Manes in my grade. He was always such a dick.” YESSSSSSSS.

- Michael’s speech about hope. Shit. He is just. “Hope screws people up. Hoping that your family will come and save you from the system. Hoping that anyone can be saved at all.” And poor Maria, she doesn’t know anything. Did she know about how Michael grew up? Because even Alex only knew he was living out of his truck as a rumor, and didn’t know the full extent until the junkyard talk in 1x10. So maybe Michael did have that hope for a moment in 1x13, that he went to the Pony thinking things could be different. But then Max died, and it reminded him that hoping just means more of the same shit.

- Also, Maria. Honey. Taking Michael’s keys doesn’t really mean anything. He’s a mechanic and a telekinetic alien.

- “Need help moving a body.” “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that.” LOL!

- No Kyle, your life is never going to be normal again. Nope.

- “The last thing Isobel needs is to get her hopes up.” Lots and lots of talk of hope this episode.

- “I always thought it was synthetic but if it’s organic” YOU MEAN LIKE HOW LIZ HYPOTHESIZED IN 1x08? Cool cool cool. I also love how their brains work, speaking of that callback. Liz is a biomedical engineer, this is her jam. Michael seems to lean more towards mechanical engineering, especially in 1x08 how he talked about the pods being “tech” and having a seam. But I am super curious about this idea that the alien organs can be fixed in a way, essentially being in line with Liz’s chosen field of study and her career path.

- It’s so cute how Michael gets a bit squeamish before he’s just totally in awe, like he’s probably never really gotten the chance to actually know anything about his own biology, and how it differs from humans - especially not before working with Liz in S1 to develop the serum antidote.

- Liz and Rosa, omg I love them so much. This conflict Liz is dealing with, she’s so happy to have Rosa back, but she’s so angry and so mad and so upset over losing Max at the same time. i LOVE LIZ ORTECHO.

- “I’m gonna fix it” GODDAMNIT Y’ALL LIZ ORTECHO. JUST... LIZ FUCKING ORTECHO.

- I am so looking forward to figuring out what’s up with Mimi and this wandering and why she had Rosa’s bracelet from the roadside memorial.

- Poor Isobel. This is gonna be an interesting story arc to see play out. Knowing what Carina said about it, I am much more interested in letting it play out before making any decisions on it. I’m not crazy about a pregnancy story line, but who knows what Carina has in store with it.

- Zombie!Max I think it’s interesting he says, “you’re the only one I can reach” and how that ties in with Liz’s earlier remarks about the handprints. Why was Rosa the only one to get a handprint? Is it because she was the most recent one Max healed? In the pilot, Max did say, “the mark could show up” so he knew there was a possibility it wouldn’t. But what does that mean? There’s definitely something more there, and I am excited to find out.

#roswell new mexico #notso liveblogs roswell #notso rambles #rnm 2x01

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mxrstar · 4 years

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hi!! made a playlist for Martin and now I am sad

wrote as always an unnecessary explanation for why I chose these songs specifically? if you want to read it it’s under the cut 🌻

— The Orphan King, Mary Gauthier

alright. this is,,, my favorite song? I cry almost every time I listen to it, I cannot tell you with words how much I am in love with it. and, well. Martin “I think our experience of the universe has value, even if it disappears forever” Blackwood vs the relentless “I still believe in love” of the lyrics… “My mama had held me one time then kissed me goodbye, but I still believe in love. She never came back and I don't know why, but I still believe in love. She passed me her crown on her way out of town, but I still believe in love. She left me this kingdom to wear it around, but I still believe in love” I…. I cry.

— Class of 2013, Mitski

“Mom, I'll be quiet / It would be just to sleep at night / And I'll leave once I figure out / How to pay for my own life too / Mom, would you wash my back? / This once, and then we can forget / And I'll leave what I'm chasing / For the other girls to pursue” I don’t want this

— A Love of Some Kind, Adrianne Lenker

I listened to this song on a discovery weekly I think, and hhhhhaaaaahhhhhhhaaaaa I could only go Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin Martin “I don't have much but what I've got / is something I can give. / And I’ve found that on your own is no good way to live. / So what d’you say? / Nothing much in our way / And the world is always turning / And the light is yearning / It'll be just fine / Would you mind? / I could use a heart / I could use a home / I could use a love of some kind” ......……. h

— Unfucktheworld, Angel Olsen

technically this song has a romantic relationship behind it (I think), but the gentle, desperate tone of the lyrics, “you may not be around I am the only one now”…. it does make me think of Martin, and just… yeah, his mother. “I have to save my life / I need some peace of mind” oof

— All Alright, fun.

“Yeah, it's all alright / I guess it's all alright / I got nothing left inside of my chest, / But it's all alright” hhhhh “And I know, oh no, / You've fallen from the sun / Crashing through the clouds / I see you burning out / And I know, oh no, / That I put up a front / But maybe, just this once, / Let me keep this one” hhhhhh I love the way Nate Ruess sings those lines so much

— Utopian Futures, Kimya Dawson

I think Martin “If we were all happy that wouldn't actually be the end of the world” Blackwood deserves little a anti-capitalistic anthem, but like gentle and tender and intimate…… “Here in the place where dreams aren't dead, here in the space between our heads” I cry!!!! (also listen to Kimya Dawson please they are relentlessly touching)

— Clementine, Sarah Jaffe

there is no justification except that the melody is very melancholic and I am in love with this song and martin would listen to it a lot

— True Love Will Find You In The End, Daniel Johnston

“True love will find you in the end / This is a promise with a catch / Only if you're looking can it find you / ‘Cause true love is searching too / But how can it recognize you / If you don't step out into the light, the light / Don't be sad I know you will / Don't give up until / True love will find you in the end” presented without comment

— 6/10, Dodie

“I feel like a six out of ten / I’ve gotta get up early tomorrow again / What goes on behind the words? / Is there pity for the plain girl? / Can you see the panic inside? / I’m making you uneasy, aren't I?” h.

— To a Poet, First Aid Kit

1. the title 2. “it always takes me by surprise, how dark it gets this time of the year, and how apparent it all becomes that you're not close, not even near. no matter how many times I tell myself I have to be sincere, I have a hard time standing up and facing those fear”

thank you for your time

— Alone Again Or, Love

I adore this song. it is just, almost defiant in its melancholy. “And I will be alone again tonight my dear”…… martin…… martin……..

— Transatlanticism, Death Cab for Cutie

the melody of this song….. “Most people were overjoyed, they took to their boats / I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat”…. the Lonely, anyone?? “I need you so much closer”?????? help?????

— Maybe Sprout Wings, The Mountain Goats

the obvious mountain goats song for Martin is always get lonely, but I like this one too. “Ghosts and clouds / And nameless things / Squint your eyes and hope real hard / Maybe sprout wings” Martin tries!!! Martin tries so hard!!!!

— Your Soft Blood, Sorority Noise

wanted!! to put an “angry” song in here, and had thought of Fantastic Bastard by Death Spells. and I looove the chorus of that song, but it didn’t fit the vibe I think? and then I remembered this one song and aaaaaa. the desperate frustration of the singer in the first half “I can be replaced / I can be replaced” and then the final part, the impulsive, angry desire to be defined by your sins if by nothing else, if the other option is always just, getting a passing mention, a distorted grey image. yeah,,,, yeah…….

— Songs for Owls, Olly Alexander

I don’t know who Olly Alexander is, I have not seen the movie this is soundtrack for, but I would die for this song. I just. it is achingly beautiful and I had to put it here

— Samson, Regina Spektor

this song is otherworldly and one day I am gonna write a jonmartin fic based on these lines (you can quote me on that): “I cut his hair myself one night / A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light / And he told me that I'd done alright / And kissed me 'til the morning light”

— Come Away With Me, Tracey Chattaway

this is a long song, 7 minutes I think, but just… the rain,,,,,, it is just very beautiful and it reminds me of him. good ending, I think

if anyone is reading this, thank you for getting this far!

#tma #the magnus archives #martin #martin blackwood #playlists #sometimes i talk #my playlists #is anyone gonna listen to this? debatable

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audreycritter · 5 years

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day six: dragged away dick grayson & bruce wayne general canon, Pre-N52 tw: drugging, blood, vomit

***

The moon cast pale gray light on the building spires and then the city was plunged into darkness by swiftly moving cloud cover. Nightwing glanced up, looking for a break in the inky sky, and saw miles of storm system spread out over the bay and moving in.

He’d been hoping the forecast would be off by a few hours, at least. No such luck.

At least Robin wasn’t out with him tonight. Damian still had a penchant for leaning into things that made him uncomfortable— habit or defense mechanism or both. If he was freezing in the rain, he’d insist on stay out longer than a normal patrol, just to prove that he could. Dick had spent more than one night as Batman surreptitiously finding ways to warm Damian up after a cold night, while the kid pretended he wasn’t visibly shivering.

Nightwing had been watching Gotham for five days now, and Damian had been out for three of those. Tonight, he’d insisted Damian stay in, and had left the cave to angry stomping going up the stairs into the house. He’d cool down, Dick knew, and probably crash and sleep within thirty minutes of furiously flinging himself into bed to sulk.

Five days of Bruce being undercover with hardly a word, and Damian was wired, on edge, and exhausted. Nightwing had that deep current of worry he always did when Bruce was out of contact, but that was undercover work, and he was used to it.

Overhead, the sky rumbled ominously. Nightwing leapt from the edge of the First National building and let the free fall carry him down ten stories before throwing a grapple line and curving into the arc of its catch. He landed in a roll and the second he was back on his feet, his comm beeped. He froze. That pattern, that tone— that was the emergency beacon signal.

“O,” he said, into the comm.

“Osborne and St. Mark,” she said, immediately. “It’s not Robin. A’s confirming now that he’s at home. It’s a warehouse, one of Roman Sionis’ frozen assets in federal holding. Should be empty.”

“I’ll be there in seven,” he said. “Cycle’s two blocks from me. Any visual?”

“I’ve got a camera a block down St. Mark’s that shows an empty lot. No in-building security online to use. Deploying a recon drone.” Oracle sounded purely businesslike, not a hint of stress present in her voice. Nightwing knew that meant she was masking, work-focused, and frustrated without enough information.

Nightwing made it to his parked and cloaked cycle in record time and ate up asphalt speeding through the streets as it started to rain.

“Heat scan shows three bodies inside,” Oracle said when he was close. “Hand to hand, one against two. One of the two down.”

Nightwing gunned the engine. He could see the warehouse now.

“Second is down,” Oracle said. “One man standing. Bottom floor.”

“I’m here,” Nightwing said.

The cycle skidded and squealed to a stop and Nightwing leapt from it and took the first double doors with a kick. He had a suspicion— a hope— who the one man left on his feet was, and there wasn’t much reach to proceed with caution or strategy at that point.

“You’ve got a car enroute,” Oracle said. “I’ve got A on standby for emergency response prep orders.”

The emergency beacon probably meant blood, and lots of it.

Nightwing went through the dark building at a dead sprint, frantically scanning for any sign of Bruce. The interior was lit with warming fluorescent lights, the faint hum above head a clue that they’d been turned on very recently. He rounded the abandoned machinery just in time to see a hunched figure stumble backward and fall.

“B!” Nightwing flew across the room on a burst of extra speed and slid to a stop on his knees in front of the sitting figure.

The ragged coat, the moth-eaten wool hat, the graying new beard, the colored contacts— all would have been remarkably effective disguises if he hadn’t already known who he was going to find. Bruce swayed, even sitting. There was blood trickling from his lip, and his pupils were blown.

Nightwing glanced up and down, hunting for seeping bloodstains. “B. What happened?”

“Drug,” Bruce slurred. “Organ...chop shop.”

The two men on the floor didn’t stir and Nightwing wished they would so he could kick them both in the teeth, and watch their faces while he did it. He put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder to steady him.

“Can you stand? O’s sending a car. We gotta get you back to the Manor.”

“No,” Bruce said, trying to shake his hand off. “No, not...Robin…”

“Robin’s fine, B,” Nightwing said, frowning.

Bruce twisted clumsily and vomited on the floor. It splattered one of the unconscious men. “No,” he said again, staring at the mess.

“He probably deserved that,” Nightwing said.

“DN...din...A,” Bruce mumbled, tugging uselessly at the man’s zippered jacket. His fingers struggled to grasp the zipper pull while he leaned and Nightwing braced him and sat him back upright, tugging him a foot across the floor.

“Oof. You’re as heavy as a freighter, B. Nobody’s gonna run DNA here. Don’t move.” Nightwing patted the unconscious man’s face to check for response and whistled when there wasn’t even a groan. “Holy right hook, Batman. You knocked him out colder than Mr. Freeze. Listen, A’s going to be ready for us. Robin will be fine.”

“Drugs,” Bruce protested, sounding far more upset than he should have been. He didn’t usually let much seep into his tone, ever, so this was downright unsettling. “He’s...will...drugs scare ‘im.”

Nightwing went as still as a startled animal, and then slowly, he turned back to Bruce and crouched in front of him.

“B,” he said, softly. “Just what’d they give you, anyway? This Robin isn’t going to be upset like that.”

“No,” Bruce insisted, his head bobbing forward like he was having trouble controlling it. “No. Jay can’t...he’s...he’ll see...”

The comm beeped softly in his ear when he activated an open channel. “O, is the penthouse clear tonight? The big guy’s gonna need to sleep something off.”

“No janitorial scheduled. Back elevator’s still programmed with your access code.” There was a significant, but brief, pause. “He’s okay? A’s waiting.”

“The only blood out here isn’t his. He was drugged but he’s conscious. I will take that car, though. I don’t think he could stay on a cycle right now. Tell A I’ve got him and to keep Robin at home.”

“I’ll send Black Bat,” Oracle said. “Keep me updated.”

Nightwing glanced at the men and sighed. “Hold on, B.” He pulled ties out of his cuff pockets and rolled them both, tying their hands behind them. He’d call it in, or have Oracle do it, when they were far enough away, but at least they wouldn’t get too far or choke on their own puke if the police were slow.

“Is not...” Bruce said, his brow knitted in confusion. He blinked slowly and tried to focus on Nightwing. “Is not Jay anymore.”

“No, B,” Nightwing said quietly. “It’s not. Do you know what they gave you?”

“Somethin’...fuckin’..._strong_,” Bruce spat out, sounding profoundly annoyed. Nightwing grabbed his arm and counterpressured with the heels of his boots when he stood, and fortunately, Bruce cooperated. He leaned heavily on Nightwing as they walked, but he was managing his own feet well enough.

“Organ chop shop, huh,” Nightwing commented. “How long have you known? I’m guessing it wasn’t long before they drugged you, or they never would have gotten that close.”

“Drug me,” Bruce repeated, and his arm slung around Nightwing’s shoulders tightened.

“So you said,” Nightwing answered. “Here’s the car. Come on, in you go, and if you try to take the wheel from me or open the door while we’re driving, I’m going to knock you out for your own good.”

“Brat,” Bruce said. As soon as Nightwing closed the car door, he was tearing out the colored contacts and dropping them on the floor.

The ride to the penthouse was mostly silence that Nightwing filled with chatter. Bruce didn’t normally contribute much in the way of actual words, but the drugs disrupted his ability to grunt or move at the right times, so Nightwing felt a bit like he was talking to an actual brick wall. It made Dick uneasy, even knowing it was drugs, to feel like Bruce was beside him and very, very far away.

It took some maneuvering to get Bruce onto the elevator but they made it into the penthouse without incident. As soon as they were there, inside, with the door locked, Nightwing peeled off his mask and Bruce shrugged awkwardly out of the beaten coat and hat. He dropped them on the floor and stumbled into the living room, and past the couch.

“Wait, wait up,” Dick called, hopping on one foot and then the other as he tugged off the suit boots. He left them on the floor and followed Bruce as he bumped into one item after another like some sort of human pinball, until he swerved hard left and into the bathroom.

Bruce hugged the toilet and puked more, while Nightwing stood beside him, feeling helpless, while wrestling the suit off of himself. He waited, hovering nearby, trying to decide what to do. Bruce’s shoulders stopped heaving and he leaned there, forehead on forearm, trembling faintly.

“Uh, I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab some water and some clothes for both of us,” Dick said. “I’ll be right back.”

It only took him under a minute but he still expected to see Bruce on the couch or climbing into a bed after. It was a surprise to find him still in the bathroom, shaking. Dick crouched down beside him, a worn t-shirt on, and offered the glass of water.

“Shit,” Bruce said, a word that was more low groan than speech.

“You were not kidding when you said they gave you something strong,” Dick said, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder after the glass was transferred.

Bruce gulped half of the water, set the glass down, and exhaled roughly. He staggered to his feet again. He braced himself on the wall and a desperate little gasp escaped him.

“B,” Dick said, unable to keep the alarm out of his voice. “Are you crying? Bruce. What did they do, exactly?”

“No,” Bruce said, stumbling past him. He went for the nearest bedroom and all but collapsed face down on the bed, turning his head just enough to get the pillow off his mouth and nose. There were tear streaks on his face and Dick climbed onto the bed next to him, his face pinched in worry.

“B. It’s me. You gotta tell me what’s going on. Is this just the drugs?”

“No,” Bruce said again, and a sob tore from his chest. It was the only one— he sucked in a lungful of air and sniffled, and rubbed at his eyes with the tips of his fingers. “S’not...something else.”

Dick elbowed him in the side, gently, and scooted closer. “Yeah? It is something else or it’s not?”

“Tired,” Bruce said, closing his eyes. He threw an arm around Dick and dragged him that much closer, trapping Dick in a warm cuddle. He buried his face in Dick’s hair and Dick relaxed incrementally, as the arm around him did.

“You big oaf,” Dick muttered fondly. “You could have just called and said you wanted to see me. You didn’t have to go get yourself kidnapped for your kidneys.”

Bruce snorted a laugh that ghosted across Dick’s scalp.

“Feeling more you yet? I should get you some more water,” Dick said, without struggling to get away. Bruce didn’t let him go.

“After sleep,” Bruce said, firmly. “Wanna. Sleep. S’been cold.”

“I bet you just loved that,” Dick said. “Undercover means no blankets and fancy mattress. Why don’t you ever do white collar stuff? Seems like that’d be a more comfy gig.”

“Batman...doesn’t…he doesn’t...I don’t..._need_ comfy,” Bruce managed, with several stops and starts. “M’fine.”

More of the tension slipped out of Dick’s muscles and he laughed, and laughed, until his eyes filled with tears. He pressed his face into Bruce’s shoulder and laughed harder at the grumpy little snort of indignation.

“Chum,” Bruce said, and that was enough for Dick to know. He started telling him about a case he’d worked the week before, involving smuggling swans, and one of them attacking him in the suit.

The non-verbal or quiet responses grew more Bruce-like and less slurred as Dick talked, until they were mostly normal. Dick felt the yawn Bruce tried to stifle and then the tell-tale deep breathing of Bruce truly out, the way he slept if he had been sedated.

Dick wriggled enough to fish the comm out of his pocket, where he’d left it.

“O,” he said. “He’s fine.”

“You done for the night?” Oracle asked.

Dick scrunched closer into Bruce’s furnace-like warmth and smiled at the pleased hum.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m staying in.”

#nightwing #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #whumptober #dragged away

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nat-20s · 5 years

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Top 5 Breakdowns over David Tennant- any fandom/show/ play you've seen? I really liked the dw one you did, just hoping you could expand over/ include other things he's been in.

Oh anon you are QUITE the enabler thank you.

So this is like half actual breakdown list and half just like David Tennant recommendations in general because I love that funky little scot.

+1. This isn’t going on the official list because I already did the previous list you mentioned (i’m glad you liked it, btw!!!) but yeah. Doctor Who. He plays the doctor in a very fuckin uhh mercutial way (he plays a lot of characters that way and I am 100% enamored by it every fuckin time he just does it SO WELL AUGH) and like highs were so high and the lows were so low and he was so FURIOUS AND CRUEL but also so GENTLE AND KIND and like oof!! The multifacetedness bitch!!!! That’s what it’s all about babey!!!

5. Good omens. I mean, duh. There was no fucking way I was gonna survive good omens. Like, honestly, even without miss tennant I wouldn’t have survived it because HA HA HA HA H O L Y SHIT MY FAVORITE BOOK FOR THE LAST DECADE WAS GETTING AN ACTUAL SCREEN ADAPTATION I GENUINELY DID NOT THINK WE WOULD EVER BE HERE THIS SHIT IS LIT. but then but THEN it was like. The way that he portrayed crowley definitely fit into a particular niche that david tennant KILLS. Like god okay I could spend an whole fucking essay on this point so I’m gonna distill this down to just. THE moment that I was like “okay okay okay okay fuck I’m GOING THROUGH IT” was when his voice cracks as he tells aziraphale that he lost his best friend because like in context OOF and out of context I have been Pavlovian trained for the past decade to Utterly Lose My Shit when David Tennant is like this close to crying and he expresses that with his whole body THE ASSHOLE! LET ME REST. I THOUGHT I WAS OVER THIS MISTER!!

4. The Escape Artist. Lesser known (I think?), but a VERY GOOD miniseries! The tone is much darker, and he’s a much more serious character. Similar vibes, role wise, to broadchurch. I’m not sure how much rewatch value it has but watching it for the first time had me like MISSION STATUS: SICK!!!! It’s like a cat and mouse mystery and like. I’m not gonna go to in depth into the story because I think it’s more enjoyable to go into it not knowing much and too me it was one of those things that took like 3 hours to watch all of and a full week or two to like. Process. Also I’m not usually one for drama and I was ABOUT it so I would recommend!!!

3. JESSICA JONES (season 1). Holy FUCK dude. Definitely his darkest and most evil role, and the subject matter is VERY heavy and I definitely would NOT recommend it for everyone because it could be, how you say, triggering as fuck or even just because it is incredibly dark and that might not be your thing. Funnily enough, it’s DEFINITELY not my thing, personally, I tend to avoid narratives about sexual assault because so many of them are, uh, ya know, bad, but Jessica Jones season 1 really is done FANTASTICALLY! The David Tennant breakdown was just a level of cognitive dissonance because I had never seen him play like a VILLAIN villain. I mean, yeah, he was Barty Crouch Jr., but that was for like 30 seconds and while the dude was creepy there was a layer of campy over the topness that is present in most fun fantasy franchises. I remember when he was cast as the purple man me and my parents were like. Yeah he’ll obviously crush the role because he’s talented but in the back of our minds we’ll probably still be thinking of like the doctor and I wonder if we can fully accept him playing the role. Yeah there was fucking NONE OF THAT. When he played Purple Man I never ONCE thought of his other roles and I didn’t even, like, think of David Tennant, ya know. I was just like oh shit this man is evil and terrifying and I want him dead! Please die!!! And yes, I know that that’s how acting works or whatever but also ACTING ya know!!! Of any of the roles on this list this one definitely made me be the most like SHE HAS THE RANGE because I really think it highlights how INCREDIBLY GOOD at his job he is!!! I have not ever rewatched Jessica Jones season 1 though because while it is honestly like a triumph of television it is also A Lot to deal with and I am very rarely in the kind of mindset where I’m able to watch it. But yeah. David Tennant knows what the fuck he’s doing and it is very good.

2. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING BABEY. Literally I knew nothing about the play or why I should care but the promo material was like. Catherine Tate and David Tennant are costars again and I was like OKAY SIGN ME THE FUCK UP HELL YEAH HELL YEAH HELL YEAH. For real I think on screen chemistry Catherine Tate and David Tennant are one of if not just straight up my favorite duo of all time. They are just so DELIGHTFUL and ENCHANTING and BEWITCHING and basically I want them to costar in everything ever. @azirafeathers was like “sherlock holmes adaptation where she’s sherlock and he’s watson” and I haven’t stopped thinking about that since!!! I would give my left thumb or at least like a solid $60 to see that. Like PLEASE it would be PERFECT. I LOVE THEM. And god this production of much ado is definitely like. “Here’s Benedick and Beatrice. They’re two chaotic dumbass bisexuals that are like fives on the kinsey scale and they fall in love much to their surprise” and it’s TERRIFIC. That’s exactly what I like to see. Like it’s set in the 80s and the set design? The visual gags? The costumes? The soundtrack? THE PHYSICAL COMEDY? It all SLAPS. David Tennant really balances “fun and funky slut” and “utterly PINING idiot” so fucking well. I have said it before and I will say it again David Tennant peaks when Catherine Tate is being mean to him. Also really iconic to give him the role that is like the only man in the play that is (after a bit) CHUGGING his respect women juice. I mean LOOK at this utter buffoon.

I’m in love. This play made me a proud morosexual. Plus it’s all FREE ON YOUTUBE THE NEXT TIME YOU HAVE THREE HOURS AND WANT TO HAVE A GOOD FUCKIN TIME GO WATCH MUCH ADO!!

1. H A M L E T. So imagine that you’re 14 and it’s 3 am and you’re casually watching David Tennant’s hamlet on youtube or at least the parts they put up and you’re painting stars on your ceiling with glow in the dark paint and it makes you realize that you have an excess of black bile and a melancholic temperment and you’ll understand why, while this might not be my all time favorite david tennant role (though it definitely is high up on the list) , this is absolutely my number one David Tennant Related Breakdown. Hoo boy. This probably doesn’t come as a shock to literally anybody that knows me irl bc I Will Not shut up about Hamlet and it is this productions fault. Different people will respond differently too it, and I’m definitely 1000% biased because a: I love him and b: it was the first production I ever watched and it’s what got me On My Bullshit, but this production honestly makes me like. Get Hamlet. Or not get hamlet, personally, as a character, we’re never meant to fully understand him honestly, but it made me understand the ALLURE of the play. I watched it and I was like oh. Yeah. Okay. I can see why people have been obsessed with this for 400 years. I know why it’s considered one of the greatest roles and one of the greatest plays of all time. And I went absolutely feral for it. It solidified Horatio permanently as one of my all time favorite characters in anything ever. David Tennant has this tendency to put manic and desperate energy into the characters that he plays, and that of course works extremely well for hamlet. Plus, like, he plays characters that are drowning, that need the assistance and kindness of love to try and float, and even with that might not be able to keep their heads above water, and the characters that are opposite him are basically always wonderful. Because I am deeply deeply predictable, the core dynamic of Hamlet and Horatio’s relationship is probably like THE most appealing and interesting and important aspect of the play to me, and Peter de Jersey (who is absolutely INCREDIBLE in this production) and David Tennant pull it of breathtakingly beautifully. Every time I watch this I have to lie down for a while. Every time I THINK about this I have to lie down for awhile. So, yeah, number one David Tennant based breakdown is over his hamlet.

Honorable mentions

this gifset-I have not seen what this is actually from but it made me have a conniption. I’m in love with her. She’s my idealized self. I don’t know what to do with myself. I spent 5 hours looking at this now. What the fuck.

The Decoy Bride- I didn’t have a breakdown over it BUT it is a recommendation. Very silly rom com, very much a comfort movie like music and lyrics or singing in the rain for me. Great for sleep overs or rainy sunday afternoons.

Richard II- I haven’t seen it but based on one (1) clip and some stills I would be lost in the sauce for a week after a viewing.

Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger- watch nativity 2 danger in the manger.

Fright Night- jesus fucking CHRIST mister tennant went full slut

Casanova- Mister Tennant Goes Full Slut part 2- has blue colored contacts and it’s weird

#anon #replies #sorry this took a hot minute but i wrote uhh #squints at the screen #1700 words on david tennant making me lose it jesus christ #Anonymous

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daniellesimagines · 5 years

Text

Shoot Your Shot [SOCCER!CAL AU]

submitted by @calinthewatermelonshirt

The game was tied at 2 and Bia’s team only had a few minutes left on the clock to score. “Time out!” She called out to the ref, and he nodded at her. Bia had the authority as captain and the team huddled around her.

“Here’s the plan: We’re doing the new drill we just learned in practice. I know it’s kind of new, but you guys know what to do.”

The team fanned out, ready for the drop ball Bia was sure to win. The soccer match had gone exactly as she had expected so far: close. Bia and a player from the opposing team stood face to face with the ref holding the ball between them. Then it happened: he dropped the ball and Bia was off like a shot. Immediately she pounced on the ball, spinning away from the player.

“Man on!” Bia heard her best friends shouting from the stands, warning her that there was a player closing in on her. They didn’t however, warn her that there were three of them.

It made sense to her, though. The Tigers were never afraid of playing dirty, and seeing as she was the captain and one of, if not the, best players on the team, it put a huge target on Bia’s back. She and the team had planned or this, though. In attacking Bia so strong, they had left their defense with more holes in it than a 5-year-old’s smile.

Seeing an opening, she passed the ball to Sophie, another of her best friends and fellow forward, and sprinted ahead, ready to receive the ball again. Sophie passed the ball through the other players legs, careful to get the timing exactly right so as to not be caught off-sides.

With only Bia and opposing goalie left, she practically dribbled the ball into the goal and pulled ahead, leaving the other team only seconds to get the point back. Bia guessed that they knew they were losing the match anyways, because as soon as the whistle blew, they ignored the ball all together and started attacking her team instead.

It wasn’t long before there was an all-out fight going on. Bia was battling the other team’s captain and she was kicking her ass, too. It was a bit of an uphill battle, though.

Bia wasn’t a small girl by any means – standing at 5′10 and having a few pounds of muscle from playing soccer since she was 5 – but this girl was about 6′0 feet and 180 pounds of pure spite. The opposing captain got a good hit on Bia – she was sure was gonna bruise – but she still won in the end with a well-placed elbow and a cracking noise that signaled broken nose.

The ref broke it up soon after, and called the match, declaring Bia’s team, the Bears, the winners. She cheered and smiled along with the rest of her team, happy the match had gone her way. Bia’s friends flooded the field – Ashton, Luke, Michael and Calum sweeping her up with hugs and congratulations.

“I can’t believe you actually went through with it.” Bia grinned from ear to ear.

“With what?” Ashton teased and then the boys all turned around, showing off their matching jerseys with Bia’s last name and number on the back.

“I guess it wasn’t my week, huh?” Sophie jogged over and hugged the boys, too.

“You, my dear, are in desperate need of a shower.” Luke crinkled his nose at Bia. It had rained the day before, and combined with the rough match, meant she was caked head to toe with mud.

“I am in need of a shot.” Bia declared, wanting to celebrate with her best friends.

“I’ll second that, captain.” Sophie came up behind her and slung and equally muddy arm over your shoulders.

“No way. We have our match tomorrow, remember? None of us are allowed to be drunk or even mildly hungover.” Calum, the boys’ team captain, warned.

“Fine.” Bia whined, “I’m going to clean up and go to bed. See you tomorrow for pregame.” The boys all said good bye and she and Sophie – already feeling the adrenaline wear off – drove home in her Jeep.

The boys were already at their usual diner when Bia and Sophie got there. The two of them slid into the booth with the boys, Bia next to Calum and Sophie next to Luke.

“Nice bruise there, Rocky.” Michael teased Bia as she got settled. Bia playfully flipped him off in lieu of a response.

“Alright boys. I’m just going to say this once: you had better whoop some ass tonight.” She said, stealing a tater tot off Calum’s plate.

“And why is that?” Calum asked, swatting her thieving hands away.

“Well, we won.” Sophie chimed in, giving Calum a look. “So it’ll look awful if you idiots lose.” Bia said, ordering her usual from the diner. “And Sophie and I will tease you mercilessly for months.”

“We wouldn’t expect anything different.” Ashton smiled.

“Whatever.” Luke waved her off. “Onto more important topics: who’s wearing whose jerseys tonight?”

Since there were only two of the girls and four of the boys, Bia and Sophie had to rotate through whose jerseys they wore, much like they did with her and Sophie. Why they didn’t just wear both of the girls jerseys at the same time was a mystery to Bia, but she had never claimed to understand them.

“Can I get a drumroll please?” Sophie got pumped and shook her shoulders, building up the suspension. “Tonight… I.. will be… wearing…”

“Hurry up, woman!” Luke groaned.

“Michael’s jersey!” Sophie screamed and Michael whooped with joy. The other three turned to Bia like vultures on roadkill.

“Jeez, back off.” She said, feeling a little attacked.

“Mine’s a surprise.” They all groaned and the rest of the afternoon went the same, all of you teasing each other. Before long it was time for the big game.

“Come on ref, what are you, blind?” Bia yelled, heckling and jeering for all she was worth. The Tiger’s boys’ team played even dirtier than their girls’ team, and there had been a few rough plays on the players instead of the ball that had resulted in injures. At this point, Bia was worried for her friends’ safety.

“This game looks rougher than usual, right?” Sophie leaned into Bia, seemingly reading her mind.

“I was just thinking that.” Bia said, biting your lip. “I’m kind of worried.” Sophie nodded in agreement and the both of you turned your heads back to the game.

Some time into the second quarter, a particularly big player decided to make a move. Calum had the ball and was looking towards Luke to pass when the opposing player slide tackled him, going directly for Calum’s ankles. Calum didn’t notice and couldn’t hear Bia’s and Sophie’s warnings, so he wasn’t able to defend himself. Bia watched in horror as Calum crumpled to the ground and felt her heart drop even further as she watched him fail to rise again.

Without even thinking, Bia hopped the railing and sprinted onto the field. Since she was pre-med, Bia figured she’d be able to help out some. As she approached, Bia saw that some cheerleaders had gathered around him, crowding Calum and cooing over him, as if trying to heal him with the power of their asses.

“Back off!” Bia shouted at them, and practically shoved one off of Calum.

“Oof.” Cal groaned. “Motherfucker, you could have warned me.”

“Tried, my dude. I guess you couldn’t hear me.” Bia had already started unlacing Cal’s cleat as softly as she could. His ankle must have been pretty tender, though, because he groaned softly and Bia see in his face that he was in a lot of pain.

“Hey,” She said softly, trying to calm him a little, “I got you, it’s gonna be okay; you’re gonna be okay.” He locked eyes with her and reached over and squeezed her hand to let her know it had helped.

“What’s the damage?” Luke jogged over and crouched next to Bia and Cal. “Ice and back in? Or worse?”

“Definitely worse,” Cal groaned, falling onto his back and covering his face with his hands.

“I’ll have to agree with him on that. It’s already swelling way to much to just be rolled.” Bia said, softly prodding his ankle with her fingers in order to get a better sense of his injuries, which weren’t looking good. “I think this is a hospital-worthy injury, right here.”

“No way!” Now Luke groaned. “No fucking way!”

“Yeah. Help me get him up and I’ll take him.” Bia stood and she and Luke each took one of Cal’s hands, pulling him up.

“Oh god,” Cal breathed. “Holy shit.”

“That bad, huh, bud?” Luke said, clearly not happy about the pain his best friend was in.

“Worse than anything else.” Cal said, grimacing. “Does anyone have any drugs?”

“Why the fuck would we have drugs, Cal?” Bia squinted her eyes at him, trying her best to ignore the stupid that just came out of his mouth.

“Luke, go back. The team needs you if we want a shot at winning.” Cal ordered Luke, not as a friend, but as a captain. Luke respected him and jogged back to the field.

“Don’t try to put any weight on your foot, okay?” Bia told Cal, shifting his arm to support the weight Luke had been carrying.

“Got it.” He said and together, he half-limped and Bia half carried him off the field and to her car. It was a bit of a walk to the parking lot, and Calum sagged more and more the farther they went.

“Hey, guess what?” Bia told Calum, trying to cheer him up once he was seated in her car.

“What?” He sat there, eyes closed, hands in his face.

“Look.” Bia turned around and took off her jacket, revealing his jersey underneath. She couldn’t see him, but Bia knew he was smiling.

“Two months?!” Calum’s voice seemed to go up an octave. He was sitting up straight his back resting against Bia’s as the two of them sat on the medical examiner’s bench. Bia almost fell off because the change in his calm demeanor had shocked her so much.

“I’m afraid so.” The doctor said, taking the ice off Calum’s foot to look at it again. “That does include rehab, though.”

“Dear lord.” Calum slouched back against Bia once again. “How much longer are we gonna be here?”

The both of them were exhausted at this point. After sitting in the waiting room for what felt like hours, they were finally moved back to a room, and the doctor took his sweet time getting there. Finally he ordered X-rays only to confirm Bia’s own suspicions: broken.

“It’s a fracture, albeit a bad one. You’re going to have to keep off of this foot for the next few weeks.” The doctor had pulled out a clunky walking boot and was showing Bia and Calum how to put it on. After, he looked at Bia and said pointedly, “You’ll have someone to stay with, I presume?”

Both of your cheeks flushed. Of course the doctor would assume they were a couple. Almost everyone did when the two of them hung out alone. The both of them coughed out simple ‘yeah’s and looked anywhere but at each other.

“Good.” The doctor finished demonstrating how to put on the boot and left the room.

“I think you should stay with me.” Bia told Calum, resting her head on his shoulder.

“And why is that?” He asked leaning his head on Bia’s.

“The boys care about you a lot, but I really doubt that they would be super helpful. I mean, you all tried to collectively take care of a plastic dog and it DIED. Also, you guys have a 2-story house and you live upstairs. You can barely walk up the stairs with two working feet, so I can’t imagine that it would go well with you on crutches. Plus I have a spare bedroom now that Sophie moved out.” Bia counted her reasons on her fingers, trying to think of any more.

“You’re probably right.” Calum said, and he stood up, taking the crutches from the doctor who had reentered the room without her knowing. Without Calum supporting Bia, her back fell hard against the bench. Calum turned and giggled at her, always enjoying any moment Bia looked stupid.

“Alright,” the doctor said, “You are free to go as soon as you can prove to me that you can use these crutches without any further injury.”

“Slight work.” Calum positioned the crutches under his arms and swung himself forward.

“I can NOT believe that we were there for an extra TWO hours.” Bia said on the way to her car.

“It’s harder than it looks!” He whined, trying to defend himself.

“It’s really not. You guys always seem to forget the time I partially tore my ACL. I was on crutches for months. You guys called me Limpy, remember?” Bia turned around to look at Calum.

“I’m drawing a blank,” Calum stopped in his tracks. Bia wondered why before she realized.

Bia drove a Jeep: a LIFTED Jeep. They were hard enough into get to on their own, but this seemed like a mountain they had to climb.

“It’ll be fine,” Calum assured her, swinging himself forward.

“Maybe I should just call an Uber.” Bia started to open the app up before Calum put his hand over her phone.

“No need. I said it would be fine and it will be.” He gritted his teeth, leaned his crutches against the side of her car, and grabbed the dashboard in preparation.

“How do you want me to help?” Bia stood next to Cal and placed a hand on his arm.

“I guess catch me if I fall.”

Calum couldn’t believe his luck. He also couldn’t decide if it was good or bad luck. He may have broken his ankle and would be out for a while, but on the brighter side he got to stay with Bia.

He couldn’t tell when or what, but something about her had changed recently – for the better, too, in his opinion. He just couldn’t figure out what. Now, though, he would have plenty of time to figure it out since they would be moving in together. Temporarily, he reminded himself.

“Let’s go to my place first.” Calum said, peeling off his muddy shirt. After sitting in the dirt and sweat for hours, he needed to get the filthy material off his body. “I need a shower.”

“Damn right you do.” Bia turned her blinker on, focusing on the road. “There’s no way you’re even getting within 100 feet of my house with that much mud caked on you.”

Calum chuckled. “I forgot how much of a clean freak you are.”

She punched him playfully in return. “Why do you think we always hang at Sophie’s place? Your house is too messy for me to be in without throwing up and you idiots would dirty up my place in seconds.”

“Fair enough. So how are we gonna do this?” Calum dug in Bia’s back seat, finding a spare t-shirt under it. It was Bia’s.

Calum knew it was huge on her, but that still meant it would be probably be tiny on him. He weighed his options and ended up putting on the shirt anyways. Bia didn’t have the top of her Jeep on and, since it was October, it was starting to get cold.

Bia, of course, took one look at him and laughed. “You look so stupid.” She pulled over, brought out her phone, and took a picture before he could even protest. “Now take my shirt off before you bust the seams.”

“You know, I’ll admit that I haven’t been going to the gym as much lately, but there’s no reason to call me out like that.” Calum put a hand over his heart and feigned hurt, but Bia just rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, nerd. We’re here.” Bia parked the car and got her backpack out of the back seat.

Calum figured that since he had gotten in mostly on his own, he could probably get out, too. He was wrong.

“What part of wait for me did you not understand?” Bia pushed him off of her and looked at her ruined clothes. “Seriously, tell me which word and I’ll explain it to you. Surely it would cost me less than the $80 I paid for this bag.” Bia pushed her fingertips tightly against her temples, a sure sign she was pissed.

“I’m pretty sure you never said that. And besides, I got in the car just fine by myself!” Calum brushed himself off, still in the gutter. The fall had made his foot ache, but the heavy painkillers the doctor had prescribed him were working really well.

“Well, clearly you couldn’t get out by yourself, huh?!” Bia’s shouting had apparently alerted the rest of their friend group that they were back because all of them came streaming out the door and sprinting over to Calum.

‘Whoa, dude. That looks serious,” Michael pulled Cal off the ground and slung Cal’s arm over his shoulders. Ashton then appeared on his other side, helping him keep his balance. Sophie chose to help Bia, and Cal was grateful for that. He knew that if anyone could calm her down, it would be Sophie.

“It is,” Bia grumbled and stalked into the house, Sophie trailing close behind.

“Well? What’s the damage?” Luke picked up Cal’s crutches and followed behind them into the house.

“Broken.” Cal was dumped onto the couch by his supposed mates, and he propped his foot up on the ottoman in front of him. “I’m out for at least two months.”

“Oof.” Ashton, who already had a beer open, grimaced. “That’ll be rough without you.”

“Yeah, but we technically haven’t started the season yet. You’re cutting it really close, though.” Luke was dumping the remains of a bag of chips into his mouth. “It’s gonna suck, but we’ll make it.

“Cal, you either shower now or you’re sleeping on floor outside my apartment!” Bia called from the bathroom where she already had the shower running. She stepped in and rinsed off, barely spending 5 minutes in the stream.

She got out, dried off, and stalked down the hall to Cal’s room. She knew he wouldn’t be in there because, well, stairs, and that she had a change of clothes in there. Everyone in the group had, at one point or another, left clothes at the others’ houses. She quickly found her pair of skin-tight black ripped jeans and all black old-skool vans, but couldn’t find her shirt.

She dug around for a while, occasionally throwing stuff in a pile for Cal to pack, but gave up and threw on one of his hoodies instead. She also put on one of his beanies because she didn’t want to get sick from the whole ‘wet hair, October night’ combo.

After packing Cal’s bag for him, she jogged back downstairs happily finding him showered and clean.

“Let’s roll.” Bia gathered her belongings and slung Cal’s bag over her shoulder.

“Is that my hoodie?” Cal accused her, pushing himself off the couch.

“Maybe,” Bia said and cocked an eyebrow. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“You’re taking me home. I’ll get my revenge.” Cal smirked and limped after you.

“Alright, you know the rules. No sex on my bed, tell me if you have sex anywhere other than your bed, no shoes, no smoking, and no going in my office.” Bia locked the door after Cal and dropped her keys in the little dish in the foyer.

“Whoa, that last one is new. Why can’t I be in your office?” Cal took a seat on Bia’s couch, slipping his shoe off. Bia took it from him and put it on the mat set out by her front door.

“Because it’s my house and I said so, that’s why.” Bia sighed and rubbed her eyes. It was already 2:00 a.m. and she had shit to do tomorrow. “I’ll put your stuff in your room and then I’m going to bed. If you need me, speak now or fall on your face.”

Cal just laughed and slung his arm over Bia’s shoulders which she slid out from under him. He looked hurt for a second, confused.

“You need to learn how to use them.” Bia said, giving a pointed look at the crutches. She knew full and well what he was trying to pull, and she sympathized – really, she did – but he had to learn sometime.

9 a.m. was too early for anything. Bia hated everything and everyone in the mornings, but her professor only had a 9:30 time slot open for a meeting so sometimes it sucked to suck. She sighed and whipped up some pancakes for herself and Cal, when he got up, and placed the chocolate chips to form a smile in the pancake.

She was a little worried about leaving him here alone his second day being injured, but she figured he wouldn’t be up until at least 12:00. It was a Saturday, so the group would probably go do something later, but she let him sleep for now. Bia quickly scribbled out a note as to where she had gone and walked out the door.

“UGH,” Bia screamed and slammed her front door shut. She threw her shoes off and stomped all the way to her room to put her stuff away. She was surprised a little to see Calum on the couch when she stalked back into the living room.

“Upsetting meeting?” Cal asked casually, not wanting to poke the bear.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Bia said, pouring herself and knocking back a shot.

“What’s wrong?” Cal patted the seat next to him, signaling for her to sit next to him.

“I have to make a 95 on my exam in order to get an A in the class.” Bia collapsed sideways onto the couch, her legs hanging off the end and head resting in Cal’s lap.

He started running his fingers through her hair – more for him than for her. He loved playing with her hair, the fibers soft on his callused skin. She wasn’t a huge fan of it – something he wasn’t aware of – but she knew he loved it, so she let him continue.

“Oh, I thought it was something big,” Cal said, earning himself a glare from Bia.

“It is, Calum. This is literally my worst subject.” Bia flopped onto her side and turned on Netflix to her and Cal’s favorite show to watch together. “We need to be icing your ankle.” Bia sighed and rose to her feet.

“No, no, no,” Cal whined. He hated icing injuries, but Bia wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was already undoing the velcro straps on his boot and placing the ice on his ankle. “I hate you.” Cal pouted.

“Hate you, too, nerd.” Bia was already back in the kitchen, popping popcorn for their marathon.

“Will you make hot cocoa, too?” Cal begged, reaching for some blankets and pillows out of the basket at the end of the couch.

“Asking for a bit much now, aren’t we?” Bia put the popcorn into a bowl and sat it on Cal’s lap. She also reached over and slipped a pillow under his ankle before starting on the hot chocolate.

It only took her a couple minutes to make it and she gave both of them a healthy amount of whipped cream. Finally, she plopped down on the couch next to him, her head back in his lap.

“Do you think everyone else is gonna come over later?” Cal thought out loud, his fingers already back in her hair.

“Maybe? We did make plans to go out tonight earlier this week, so…” Bia just kind of trailed of not finishing her thought.

“Yeah, guess I ruined that, huh?” Cal pulled his fingers out of her hair and crossed his arms.

“Cal, come on, we both know I didn’t mean it like that.” Bia tried to touch his cheek, but accidentally missed and slapped his forehead instead.

Cal smiled and put his fingers back in her hair.

“Stop hogging the blanket.” Bia grabbed a fistful and pulled it back over to herself. Cal found himself smiling, despite being exposed to the cold air.

They watched the show together for a few hours, Cal stewing over his injury and Bia stressing about her test, before the rest of the squad came over. Bia stood and stretched, her back a little sore.

“How you feeling, Bud?” Sophie came and sat next to Cal, roughing up his hair a little.

“Fine. I can’t feel my ankle, though.” Cal swatted Sophie’s hands away before he heard Bia.

“That would be the point.” She shouted, walking over to remove the ice. She took his ankle into her hands and started gently rubbing it to get the blood flowing again.

“It’s cool.” Cal shrugged it off, finding himself liking the feeling of her hands on his skin.

“Well, your ankle is,” Luke did finger guns at Michael and had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I fucking hate you,” Ashton said, but the giggle gave him away.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Sophie said shoveling a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“I say we just have a chill movie night. There’s a new horror movie out.” Luke said, trying to make sure they could include Cal.

“I don’t know, I heard it was pretty scary. I’m not sure SOME people in this room could handle it.” Bia said, giving a pointed look at Cal.

“Are we still going out?” Michael asked as he adjusted his glasses. “Because I don’t want to leave Cal out, but I really want to go out. We need to celebrate.”

“I could still go out with you guys. I mean, I could hold a table and stuff.” Cal defended himself, trying not be the wet blanket.

“I see no reason to cancel. Let’s get ready and get our drink on.” Bia said decidedly, already cleaning up the popcorn and hot chocolate.

“Alright, then. Let’s meet back here in an hour and a half.” Ashton giggled again. “This is gonna be fuckin’ awesome!”

“Is it ok if I shower first?” Cal asked as he leaned on the doorway of the bathroom. “It won’t take me long.”

“Yeah that’s fine especially since I’m not gonna shower.” Cal looked at her like she suddenly grew another head. “Bud, I showered this morning. I’m not trying to do my hair like that.”

“Whatever.” Cal spun around and shut the door.

Bia walked to her room and begun getting ready. Her long, chocolate hair was already in loose waves because she had curled it earlier in the day, so she focused on her makeup, which didn’t take her long – all she did was put on cat eye liner, mascara, highlighter, and bright red lipstick. Foundation was too heavy and didn’t even cover all the freckles dotting her skin anyways. Plus it was sort of hard to find. color that matched her pale skin tone. Then she got dressed in a sheer skin tight long sleeve crop top with a cute bralette under, a black mini skirt and heeled combat boots.

By then it was almost time to go, so she went to check on Calum and found him just sitting on the edge of his bed. He didn’t have a shirt on so Bia could see all the muscles in his golden skin and got a little distracted for a second. She didn’t like to admit it, but her best friend gave her feelings she wasn’t quite ready to deal with. Not just because of the way he looked – which was delicious – but also because of who he was. He was so soft and cute, but Bia didn’t feel like of being that cliched. Also, Cassidy. His girlfriend. They always kind of seemed to forget about her.

“Why aren’t you getting ready?” Bia said, pushing those thoughts out of her head. “It’s almost time to go.”

“Couldn’t figure out how to work this stupid boot.” Cal said flopping back onto his bed.

“How long have you been sitting here doing nothing, though?” Bia reached into Cal’s bag, pulled out his sensation t-shirt and leather jacket, and then tossed them onto his chest. Then she bent over and finished strapping on his boot for him while he pulled on his clothes. “We good?” Bia asked picking up Cal’s crutches and handing them to him.

“Yeah. Let’s go meet up with everyone.”

The group walked into the bar and made a beeline to the back and their usual table. Calum was pretty anxious to sit. By walking to the back, the group had to walk through all the dancing people and drunks who weren’t exactly conscientious of his injury. His ankle was radiating flares of pain up his shin, and he all but collapsed into the chair.

“I’ll get drinks!” Bia shouted over the music which was pounding. “Usual for everyone?” Everyone agreed and Bia and Sophie went over to the bar, the latter having volunteered to help carry everything.

“How’s living with her going, man?” Ashton shouted over the music. Everyone knew a conversation would be a little difficult – but hey, that’s just how it was in clubs. They knew and all didn’t care.

“Fuck, man. It’s the best.” Calum said shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah? Did, uh, something happen between you two?” Luke said.

Cal’s head snapped around so fast he heard his neck pop. “The fuck you mean?”

“Oy, mate, don’t act like you’re not pining over her. Everyone knows except her and you apparently.” Ashton gave him a look that said everything.

“We see you staring at her when she can’t see you, tensing up when she flirts with other guys. My god, Cal, grow a pair.” Michael chimed in with his opinion, slightly buzzed from his pre-gaming.

“Oh, fuck off the lot of you. Cassidy, remember?” Cal squinted his eyes and shook his head, denying as hard as could.

He was spared from further talking about it because Bia and Sophie returned with their drinks. All of them had beer except Bia and Sophie themselves, the former with whiskey and the latter with a cranberry vodka.

“Could you have a more white-girl drink?” Bia started ragging on Sophie, but within good reason in Cal’s opinion.

“Seriously, you’re embarrassing the rest of us. I don’t know if we can even be seen with you.” Cal high-fived Bia and found himself grinning hard. After a pointed look from Ashton, he suddenly knew what the other guys had been talking about.

Maybe he did have a thing for his best friend, but there’s no way either of them would be that cliched. Plus, he had Cassidy, and he wasn’t quite ready to give her up over some school-girl crush. Cal took a long draw of his beer and tried to push the thought from his mind. It was hard, thought, because she looked damn fine in that outfit.

“Let’s dance!” Bia shouted and downed half her drink. Calum wanted nothing more than to jump up and follow her onto the dance floor, fuck his ankle.

She was already jumping to the music and flirting with all the guys around her. She didn’t realize they were flirting, though. Cal figured she probably just thought they were being friendly, having fun. He shook his head and took another long sip of his beer.

He was left alone at the table with only his friends’ drinks for company, but he didn’t really mind. Cal was content sipping beers provided by friends – mainly Bia; she came to check on him the most often – and listening to the music.

Before he knew it, it was a little past 12:00 and about half of their group was drunk. Cal, Bia, and Ash were only slightly buzzed but Luke, Sophie, and Michael were totally hammered.

Right as they were getting ready to exit the club, Cal realized they had lost Bia. He scanned the club but wasn’t too worried seeing as she hadn’t had too much. Cal and Ash had almost finished corralling the rest of their friends out the door when she caught up with them.

“Alright. I’ll see you guys later.” Bia said, breathing in the fresh air. The night was really pretty, the weather absolutely perfect. “I’m gonna walk home. Try and head off the hangover, you know?”

“Are you sure?” Cal could feel the concern creeping into his voice, the desperation – stupid as he knew it was. “Frat boy, especially drunk ones, aren’t exactly known for their chivalry.”

“Actually, I think I’ll join you.” Ash linked his arm with hers. “Tonight is really pretty.” Cal just nodded his head and climbed into the Uber.

For whatever reason, he felt jealousy thick in his throat. He knew, of course, it was misplaced. Nothing would ever happen between Bia and Ash. Right? It was moments like these he had never hated his injury more. Hell, he’d break both his ankles to be able to be the one walking her home.

“Ash, not that I’m not grateful or anything, but you know I can take care of myself, right?” It’s not that she didn’t want his company, but Bia knew – and wanted the boys to know – she didn’t need some big, strong man to come save her.

“Oh, I know good and well that you didn’t need me here ‘protecting you’.” Ash did air quotes around protecting, since he really wasn’t doing much but talking. “However, I think we can agree that, had I not volunteered, then Cal would have tried to walk with you. So, really, I did this more for Cal than for you.”

Bia giggled and breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice to have some one on one time with Ash, something they hadn’t had in a while.

“I, uh, did, however, have an ulterior motive.” Ash lowered his voice to almost a whisper, his serious demeanor a sudden change. “It’s about Cal.”

“What? Is he okay? Is there something I don’t know about going on?” Bia stopped and looked Ash square in the eyes.

“Yes and no. Listen, Cassidy is going to give Cal an ultimatum when she gets back from her trip in three days.” Ash was looking pretty pissed at that point.

“That bitch. What for?” Bia made a face, felt her heart beating faster.

She had never liked Cassidy – always thought she was jealous of Cal and Bia’s friendship. Bia had always tried to be polite, but whenever Cal tried to bring Cassidy along to a group hangout, Bia would always find some excuse not to be there.

“Her or you; Cal has to choose.” Ash barely got the words off his lips before Bia felt her blood run cold.

No matter what Bia had with Cal, Cassidy would come first. Hell, Cal had even brought Bia along ring shopping once. He said he wasn’t anywhere near ready, thought he just wanted to have an idea. She couldn’t let him throw away his future, but what was she supposed to do, lose her best friend?

Bia knew her face gave away no emotion, but inside she felt the hot tears rising up. Her palms went clammy and she swiftly walked over to the nearest bench and sat.

Ash noticed she and taken a seat and settled himself next to her. “Bia, this is really up to Cal. I mean, what are you going to do, kick him out of your life?”

And with that, she made up her mind. “I guess so.”

“Whoa, hey, I was definitely being sarcastic. I – in no way, shape, or form – meant that you should actually kick him out.”

Bia was already walking away, though. Once she made up her mind, there was no changing it. From now on, Calum Hood was no longer her friend.

As soon as she got home, Bia ran to the bathroom, shut the door, and promptly bent over the toilet to throw up.

“Hey, listen, do you think I should get Cassidy something?” Cal opened the door but didn’t notice she was throwing up yet since he was texting Cassidy on his phone. “I mean, I haven’t seen- Oh my god, are you ok?”

Cal reached to rub Bia’s back, but she arched her spine away from him, avoiding his touch. “Go away.”

Bia didn’t say anything else, and she really didn’t want to either. She was afraid that if she did, she’d tell him everything.

“Um, alright.” Cal furrowed his brow, confused. Had he done something to make her mad at him? He really didn’t think so, but then why would she have pulled away from him like that. Trying to shake the paranoia, he chalked it up to her being sick. “I’ll just go make grilled cheese and tomato soup then.”

“Don’t bother, Calum. Just leave me alone.” Bia turned around and pushed Calum out of the bathroom, a final, symbolic act to solidify her shutting him out of her life.

Cal was stunned. She had only said seven words and yet, he felt his blood pulsing faster in his veins, almost like he couldn’t breathe.

For starters, grilled cheese and tomato soup was their tradition. Starting when they were six, the other had made the soup and sandwich for the sick friend. To reject that felt a little like she was rejecting him, rejecting his friendship.

Second, she called him Calum. She never called him Calum, hadn’t called called him by his full name in about eight years. The last time she had called him Calum was when he had tried to prank her, but instead had embarrassed her in front of the whole school and caused her boyfriend to break up with her. She had cried for weeks, and it had taken a awhile for them to be okay again. Cal hoped to God it was nothing like that because, although it seemed strange because he wasn’t at the receiving end, that prank-gone-wrong had almost killed him inside.

He leaned his back against the bathroom door and slid to the floor so that he was sitting, setting his crutches on the floor beside him. He really just didn’t understand, one hot tear running down his flushed cheeks as he sat there, waiting in vain that Bia would say something – anything – to him.

The next morning, after not seeing her again, Cal got up and immediately went to look for Bia. His ankle was hurting more than it ever had and he was dying for a smoke, but all he really wanted was to find Bia, to talk to her.

He looked around her house for awhile, finding her no where. It did confuse him a little because he knew she was still here since her keys were still in dish by the front door. Then it dawned on him that she must be in her office.

Cal definitely wasn’t about to go in there, especially after last night. Still, he did really want to talk to her. He figured he’d knock – at least try. At best, she’d be feeling all better and they would laugh and make up over yesterday. At worst, he’d see her later at the mall when they would meet up with the rest of the group.

He wouldn’t try empty-handed, though. Since it was nearing lunchtime, he made grilled cheese and tomato soup again, even though she had rejected it yesterday. He set it on the counter, wishing he could bring it to her. Once again cursing his crutches, he limped to the back of the house where her office was and knocked on the door. She didn’t answer, but he heard soft music filtering in from under the door – Buddy by Willie Nelson – her go-to sad song.

“Bia?” Cal rested his head against the door, losing hope quicker and quicker that she would respond. “I, uh, I hope your, um, feeling better. I made you lunch, it’s waiting on the, uh, counter for you. Grilled cheese and tomato. I know... I know, you said that, uh, you didn’t want it last night, but it just didn’t feel right, to um, to not have it. I mean, I even washed all the dishes and cleaned the counter tops, too.” Bia didn’t answer, and Cal was left disoriented by what was happening.

Their friendship seemed to be dissolving all around him and Cal didn’t know what to do. He had to talk to everyone else – maybe he was just being paranoid. They’d help him, and even if their advice didn’t work, then Cassidy would be home in just three days. Cal stood there and waited for a few more minutes before limping back into the kitchen to eat the food he had made for Bia.

Bia sat on the floor of her office with her knees pulled up to her chest, tears streaming down her face. She wasn’t really the type to cry, and yet here she was bawling her eyes out.

It was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. She was basically cutting out the happiest memories of her life, and the worst part was that she couldn’t even give him an explanation. They’d been best friends for 21 years and she was cutting him out of her life with seemingly no explanation.

It was only because she wanted the best for him, though. Cassidy would make him happy for the rest of his life, and for that, the sacrifice would be worth it.

It took her a while to stop crying, but she held onto that little scrap of comfort, knowing she would be securing his happiness. Besides, she needed to give her eyes time to de-puff before their group met up at the mall later.

Her plan was just to avoid him as much as possible. Originally, she had planned on canceling, but she figured she’d need them after she was through with her self-given task. She found it quite ironic – the fact that he had moved in so she could help him out and yet here they were, not even speaking.

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welcometothepenumbra · 5 years

Text

JUNO STEEL AND THE MIDNIGHT FOX (PART ONE)

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, BELL RINGS, RAIN.

MUSIC: STARTS.

CONCIERGE: Ah, good evening, Traveler! Welcome to The Penumbra.

SOUND: KEYS JINGLING.

Detective Steel is desperate for clues to help him solve a case that’s spiraling out of control. Luckily he knows just the person to ask; but unluckily, she knows exactly what she wants in return.

SOUND: THREE KNOCKS. BELLS TOLLING.

What luck! It sounds like he’s in. Come, Traveler. Come with me into room J-15.

SOUND: DOOR CREAKING OPEN.

Juno Steel and the Midnight Fox.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: RADIO IN BACKGROUND.

VOICE: So! Let me see if I can catch your meaning.

JUNO: It’s about time. I’ve been tossing it to you for almost two hours now, Captain, but you’re a hell of a fumbler.

VOICE [CAPTAIN]: (COUGHING) Hm. Excuse me. So you came in here to… what? Report a crime, that it?

JUNO: Seriously? We’re back here again?

CAPTAIN: Because based on what you’re telling me, it sounds like you’re reporting six or seven.

JUNO: Alright, one more time, then. The case first fell into my lap with Grim’s Mask—

CAPTAIN: And it took you this long to report it why?

JUNO: I didn’t know it was a pattern, alright? But the pieces are all lining up. I don’t even think it starts with the Mask. I did some research, and half a year before that the Haddad estate was broken into, Samira Haddad killed in her sleep, and among all the things stolen was an ancient Martian key.

CAPTAIN: So you’re reporting a crime that happened a year ago. One that we already know about. One that I investigated myself, in fact.

JUNO: It’s not just that. Kanagawa and Haddad aren’t the only ones. There’s Anthony DiMaggio, and Samantha Cartwright—

CAPTAIN: Four crimes, then. Three of which happened months ago.

JUNO: Listen to me! Martian artifacts! Everything from ancient Martian masks to medicines to thrones and who knows what else—

CAPTAIN: Steel, come on…

JUNO: It’s just going missing, and whoever’s getting it all isn’t just gonna throw a party! They are dying, Khan!

CAPTAIN KHAN: Captain Khan. Captain. You’re not a cop anymore, Mister Steel. You got no pull in this office, and whatever pull you used to have doesn’t matter to me. I don’t know you from a Joe Friday.

JUNO: Oh, you know Joe? How’s he doing?

KHAN: I’m serious, Steel. I don’t know you. All I’ve got to go on is your reputation, and let me tell you, it’s not exactly glow— (COUGHS) —it’s not, hm, glowing. If you want the HCPD’s help, you play by the HCPD’s rules like any other civilian.

JUNO: …Got it.

KHAN: Scratch that, like any other civilian but politer.

JUNO: Got it, please.

KHAN: Good. Alright, so. Martian junk goes missin’, you say there’s a link. Where’s your evidence?

JUNO: My what?

KHAN: Some P.I. you are. E-vi-dence. You come in here drippin’ rain and trackin’ mud onto my new rug, you’d better damn well have somethin’ to show me.

JUNO: I– I just told you, they’re all missing! Go knocking over to the Kanagawas’. No mask!

KHAN: So you’ve got nothin’. (GRUNT) My wife got me that rug, y’know. Imported from Earth. Know what the shipping is like, a package that size from Earth?

JUNO: I don’t care, if I’m honest.

KHAN: Then I’ll be honest, too: you got nothin’, Steel. No evidence. No case. Nada.

JUNO: So, what? Cartwright’s head just got bored and decided to take off for itself?

KHAN: Yeah, those crimes took place. Trust me, I know that better than anybody. I’ve got news streams calling me at all hours, wakin’ my kids up, “who’s got Grim’s Mask,” “I need an inside scoop on the Cartwright killing…” If they could get a direct line into my skull, it wouldn’t satisfy ‘em. But you haven’t proven a connection, and I sure as hell can’t see one. You come close, close enough that you were on my radar for a while, but—

JUNO: Me? What’s this got to do with me?

KHAN: You’ve been awful close to this, Steel. Grim’s Mask you bungled. The DiMaggios’ pill you ate. As for Sam Cartwright… that one’s too bad. But a beheading like that, something that savage, it’s got organized crime written all over it.

JUNO: Oh now who’s got no evidence?

KHAN: Did I say it was definitely the Mafia? No. But I didn’t come into your office trackin’ mud over a thousand-cred rug, an heirloom for Crissakes—

JUNO: Would you drop it about the rug!

KHAN: You know what your problem is? You got a bad attitude. You don’t know how to show respect.

JUNO: I do, actually; what I don’t know is how to show respect to pumped-up blowhards who let serial killers walk free!

KHAN: I don’t need this. I’m a patient man, Steel, but wow, you’re a pest.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Security? Yeah, this is Khan. I’m gonna—

SOUND: SMALL EXPLOSION.

JUNO: What the hell was that?

KHAN: (GROANS) Sounded like another letter bomb. Christ, I’ve told those flatfeet a thousand times not to open anything without sending it through security first!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. DOOR OPENS.

You get the hell out of here, Steel. I mean it. If you’re still in that chair when I’m done dealin’ with this—!

SOUND: ANOTHER SMALL EXPLOSION.

Morons!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I could’ve just taken off. I had another contact. Could’ve washed my hands of the HCPD for good.

Then I saw the folder, sitting on his desk. The Samantha Cartwright case file… with a tab on the Throne of Architeuthis. A tab on suspects, too. My hands were moving before I could think to stop them.

SOUND: PAPERS RIFLING.

KHAN: (DISTANT) Get her out of here, you hear me? I don’t care if you know who she is; I said get her out!

SOUND: PAPERS RIFLING, FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: (MUTTERING) Someone tried to buy the throne from Cartwright…?

KHAN: Alright, Steel, you got ten seconds to– what do you think you’re doin’?

JUNO: Just… looking for something to read, I guess.

KHAN: So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? This was all just a distraction, wasn’t it? You blindsided me.

JUNO: What, you think I set that bomb off?

KHAN: It wasn’t a bomb. There’s another civilian out there who was showing one of the secretaries how to pop corn in the Fusion Heater.

JUNO: Hell of a pop.

KHAN: Secretary’s goin’ home with half his shirt and a real nice burn. Sounds like the civilian walked in here just a minute or two after you. I’m betting you know her.

JUNO: The hell kind of a person do you think I am, Khan? Some lunatic comes in off the street and you just assume that she’s with me?

RITA: (DISTANT, GARBLED) Boss! Hey, boss? I just made all this popcorn but it sounds like they want me to wait outside now! Do you still have your umbrella?

KHAN: You gonna answer her?

JUNO: Never met the woman.

RITA: (DISTANT) Mista Steel! Pagin’ Mista Juno Steel, private investigator! I said do you have your umbrella!

JUNO: Rita, you have my umbrella!

RITA: (DISTANT) Oh! Oh, I do. Thanks, boss!

Hey, get your hands off me, I’m goin’, I’m goin’!

KHAN: Never met her, huh.

JUNO: I told her to leave the popcorn at the office.

KHAN: And I told you to leave your mitts off my files!

JUNO: You never did, actually, you just told me to leave.

KHAN: We’re done here. Security!

JUNO: If you think tossing me out once is gonna keep me away, Khan—

KHAN: Captain! It’s Captain to you!

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

You really don’t get it. Look, Steel, I was your last shot. Me. I’m the only reason you didn’t get your teeth knocked down your throat the second you showed up, you know that? I heard stories about you, sure, but we never worked together, and I figured, hey, maybe the stories are off, people change—

JUNO: They do. I did. And I wouldn’t be pushing this if it weren’t important, Captain. Really.

KHAN: You gonna stop interrupting me? Now, maybe? I’d like now. Now– now would be good.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Never mind. Here they are.

SECURITY: Well, look who it is.

JUNO: Captain Khan, she isn’t going to stop. If we don’t find whoever’s got the next Martian artifact she’s after, more people are going to die.

KHAN: She? And who’s ‘she,’ exactly?

JUNO: I don’t know, but maybe you’d know if you did your job.

KHAN: Fine! Bite the hand that feeds! Get him out of here.

SECURITY: I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Steel.

KHAN: No more force than you need to get him out the door, you hear me? You wipe that smirk off your face, I’m not kiddin’. There’s so much as a bruise on him you can go wrestle drunks in some dive bar over in Oldtown for your next paycheck, you got it?

SECURITY: …Got it.

KHAN: You’d better. And don’t let him in here again, I’ve got enough to deal with as it is.

JUNO: You could stop this, Khan. I’m trying to play nice, here.

KHAN: Don’t kid yourself. You showed up looking for blood, and now you’re cranky that you didn’t like the taste as much as you thought. Get out of here.

SECURITY: Come on, Steel. Don’t put up a fight.

JUNO: You’re lucky I don’t, beluga.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The thug showed me the door, then showed me the pavement immediately outside it.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, RAIN.

JUNO: Oof.

SECURITY: And if you want to crawl over and beg, then next time, bring a resume! (LAUGHING)

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES. FOOTSTEPS.

RITA: How’d it go in there, Mista Steel?

JUNO: (MUFFLED) How’s it look like it went.

RITA: The popcorn wasn’t my fault, boss, I swear! That dumb secretary tried to take it out just cause there was one little explosion and anyway if you just let me stop off at the office and pop it like I wanted, none’a this—

JUNO: Stop, stop, stop. It’s fine.

RITA: Really?

JUNO: Yeah, really. My meeting with Khan probably would’ve ended this way no matter what.

RITA: Good! Here, I kept your umbrella warm for ya.

SOUND: UMBRELLA OPENS.

JUNO: Thanks. Car nearby?

RITA: A couple of blocks over. I don’t like to park in front of a police station. My therapist says I got associations.

JUNO: I didn’t know you had a therapist.

RITA: Well, Frannie’s a therapist. I don’t pay her or nothin’, but she reads my moonstones free of charge.

JUNO: Of course she does.

Come on. We’ve got another stop to make, and we have to get there before they open. Trust me, you don’t want to deal with the clientele.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): One of the first rules of survival in Hyperion City is figuring out who you can trust. Trouble is, that’s not the kind of lesson most people survive.

Cops are out – they’re all either dirty or too busy cleaning up after the dirty ones to give you a hand. Gangsters are more reliable, if you can afford ‘em. And P.I.s… they’re the worst of the lot by a mile.

Like me. My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye. And whoever tells you I have a persecution complex? Well, they probably have it in for me.

MUSIC: ENDS.

SOUND: CAR DOOR SHUTS, RAIN.

RITA: This is the address, Mista Steel. “Valles Vicky’s Vixen Valley…” Hey, boss, you didn’t bring me to one’a those… y’know… ladies’ and gentlemen’s clubs, didja?

JUNO: Yep. Happy birthday.

RITA: Mista Steel, I’m not that kinda girl! And it ain’t even my birthday, and… ohhh, the HR department is gonna be real mad at you about this!

JUNO: Rita, you are my HR department.

RITA: And look at me! I’m mad, ain’t I? Honestly, boss, I can’t believe this! I don’t even want to think about what my mother would say if she knew I was goin’ into one of those places!

JUNO: I got good news for you then, Rita: your mom’s not gonna be in here.

I mean, probably. Wait, your mom’s not going to be in here, is she?

RITA: Of course she ain’t!

JUNO: Hey, if this is your kind of gig, Vicky’s is the best job on Mars. Provided you can speak four languages, hack into government servers on the fly, and sweet-talk your way through every customs office from here to the Pleiades.

RITA: What’s all that got to do with… (WHISPERING) y’know?

JUNO: The only successful businesses in this city are just fronts for other, more successful businesses, Rita. You ever hear of things being bought and sold on the black market?

RITA: Sure, in movies and stuff.

JUNO: Well, this is it. The black market. One of ‘em, anyway.

RITA: No it ain’t! In the movies the black market is like, it’s like a, a big tent or somethin’; or somebody’s basement; or in this one movie – this is really funny, Mista Steel, you’re gonna love this – it was in the main girl’s uncle’s doghouse. It had a little elevator you’d go down, and—

JUNO: Let me ask you a question, Rita: would you buy anything out of someone’s doghouse? Anything?

RITA: Well, Mista Steel, it obviously depends on the doghouse. We talkin’ Saint Bernard or Chihuahua or Great Dane or Quadruple Cerberus or—

JUNO: Well, most people wouldn’t, alright? Especially the kind of people who’ve got the creds to blow on stolen art and whatever else. Vicky and the Vixens have one of the biggest fence jobs going in this club. If anyone knows about these ancient Martian artifacts trading hands in secret, it’s her.

RITA: Well, I don’t care what they buy or sell in their free time, Mista Steel. These places always creep me out. All those people with their wide eyes and their slimy skin and they’re just lookin’ at you and they won’t stop—

JUNO: I think you’re thinking of an aquarium, Rita.

RITA: Ain’t no way for somebody to make a cred, is what I’m sayin’! And it ain’t no way for somebody to spend it, either!

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

It’s gross, I tell ya, gr- ohhhh, ahhhh, ahhhhhhhhhhh…

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Vicky’s had that effect on most people. It was shiny, classy, and filled with beautiful people – so exactly where I didn’t belong.

The only reason they didn’t kick me out the second I walked in was because I knew the manager. It had taken me ten years to finish working off the debt from the last favor I’d asked of her – so I wasn’t exactly looking forward to asking another.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

RITA: I… whosa… whadda…

VOICE: Detective Steel. So good to see you again.

JUNO: Tod.

RITA: (WHISPERING) Mista Steel, where are that man’s clothes?

JUNO: Oh, he’s wearing ‘em. See, he’s got that little—

RITA: Don’t point at it!

VOICE [TOD]: It’s been a long time, sir. Who were you hoping to see today? Me? Kit?

JUNO: I’m here for Vicky, actually. She in?

TOD: Of course, but… well, Detective Steel, I know it’s been some time and so perhaps you’ve forgotten the rules, but…

JUNO: Private business, right. Rita’s gonna stay out here anyway. Just send someone over to keep her entertained and, ah, she’ll be fine. Put it on my tab.

RITA: I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I…

TOD: And Miss Rita, what are you partial to? Vixens? Reynards?

RITA: I don’t really go in for French food.

JUNO: He’s asking whether you want a man or a woman, Rita.

RITA: OH! Oh, I- I- I couldn’t. N- I can’t. No way. I ju- I- I couldn’t. No.

JUNO: Alright, well, if you’re not interested, then…

RITA: I’LL TAKE WHATEVER YOU GOT I AIN’T CHOOSY!

TOD: Of course.

Kit, if you would help Miss Rita, here?

RITA: (GIGGLING)

TOD: She… does know that all we offer here is fine dining and finer conversation for the discerning lady or gentleman, doesn’t she?

JUNO: You still run that gymnastics show every hour?

TOD: Well, yes.

JUNO: Then she’ll be fine. So where’s Vicky?

TOD: This way, please.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Tod led me through the main hall, with its velvet curtains flowing from the ceiling and its velvety voices flowing from every soft set of lips. The Vixen Valley was the kind of place you could really lose yourself, if you wanted to – surrounded by beautiful people who will share a meal with you, listen to you, agree with everything you say, and then, best of all, who’ll stay behind when you go home at the end of the night. All the fun of romance with none of the mess.

After a falling-out of my own I’d spent a few hard months with the Vixens just like that. It was a whiff at paradise until the money ran out, and I had to meet Valles Vicky herself.

Vicky’s office was tucked away upstairs, in a dark little service hallway that you could’ve walked by three times without ever seeing. That’s how Vicky liked things: sitting in the shadows, making sure every shot she took was deadly. She was on the phone when we got there. Valles Vicky was usually on the phone.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

VOICE: Whadda these, excuses? Do I wanna hear excuses? Do I sound like I wanna hear excuses to you? ‘Course I don’t. So, how are you gonna explain these reports to me? What reports! What reports, he said! Can you believe this kid, Tod?

TOD: No, I’m afraid I cannot believe this kid, Ms. Vicky.

VOICE [VICKY]: Listen, buddy, this was not part of our deal. I don’t want excuses. What do I want? That’s right, I want results. These ain’t results. Now, look, your quarterly review is comin’ up, and we got a lot- that’s right, it’s comin’ up, and there’s a lot ridin’ on this thing, alright? Don’t talk back at me! Don’t you– don’t—!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

He hung up.

TOD: (CLEARS THROAT) Detective Steel is here to see you, Ms. Vicky.

VICKY: Yeah, I can see that. Tod, go give Victor a piece of my mind, wouldja?

TOD: Certainly.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Detective Steel.

JUNO: Thanks, Tod.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

Some phone call. Bad business?

VICKY: No, that was my son. God, I love that kid. Nearly two years old, can ya believe it?

JUNO: Yes.

VICKY: I don’t like to miss a minute, so the wife sends reports throughout the day. I call ‘em up if the little punk gives her any trouble.

Musta been born near the last time I saw you in here. Didn’t expect to see you in my office again so soon.

So. Talk.

JUNO: I was wondering if you could tell me—

VICKY: Oh, y’know what, I’ve been meanin’ to ask you: how’s your friend? The one that made it into Dark Matters? I heard you two caused a lot of trouble over in Oldtown yesterday.

JUNO: Yeah, but I was—

VICKY: Mixed up with Dark Matters, gettin’ into fights with the cops… you been busy lately, ain’t you, Steel?

JUNO: Ooh, you know things you shouldn’t. That’s a neat parlor trick, Vick, but it was neater the first three hundred times.

VICKY: (LAUGHS) Hey, a club like mine is in the business of flauntin’. If you want subtlety, this place ain’t really your bag.

JUNO: I need information on an item somewhere on Mars. Stolen, probably. Trouble, definitely.

VICKY: What is it?

JUNO: Don’t know. That’s what I need from you.

VICKY: Try joggin’ my memory.

JUNO: It’s Martian.

VICKY: Well, if it’s on Mars—

JUNO: Ancient Martian.

VICKY: Now we’re gettin’ somewhere. We talkin’ gasoline-power ancient or, uh… Grim’s Mask ancient?

JUNO: You know the answer to that. As ancient as it gets.

VICKY: Yeah, Grim’s Mask, huh? Got a few items from that era on my radar lately. The Saffron Pill; the Throne of Architeuthis; the uhhh…

JUNO: The what? …The what?!

VICKY: The funny thing is, Steel, it just slipped my mind!

JUNO: (SIGHING) Of course it did. Well, what’s it gonna cost to make it slip back, Vick?

VICKY: Well, now you mention it, I am under a little pressure lately. Yeah, that’s it: stress, cloudin’ me over. You take care’a the stress, then maybe…

JUNO: So, you need me to solve a problem. What’s it gonna be this time? Mug the president of Venus? Again?

VICKY: An innocent mistake! No wonder I fired you, Steel. With you everything’s an inquisition.

JUNO: You didn’t fire me. I paid my dues, and on the way out you tried to trick me into doubling them!

VICKY: Eh, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.

JUNO: You wrote an entire contract in invisible ink and asked for my autograph.

VICKY: Always drama with you. Speakin’ ‘a contracts, I wrote this one up just in case you dropped by.

SOUND: PAPER SHUFFLING.

JUNO: This contract is dated two hours ago.

VICKY: Just got lucky.

JUNO: No one puts the time on a contract. You’re just showing off.

VICKY: I just need a favor. Quick one. And important enough that I ain’t got time for my usual games with you, so read the contract already. It’s simple enough even you should be able to follow it.

JUNO: It… is, actually.

So you’ll tell me what I want to know if I do a case for you? That sounds reasonable. Depending on the case.

VICKY: You know why my little combo ‘a businesses works so well, Steel?

JUNO: Smuggling and skin?

VICKY: And a lotta both, let me tell you. Look: this town is full ‘a people who want to buy or sell things you wouldn’t exactly call ‘legal.’ Lot of money to be made in that, but a lot of trouble, too. So Valles Vicky’s is the all-in-one package, and we take care of the details in a place where people feel comfortable.

JUNO: Surrounded by beautiful, half-naked people, right.

VICKY: He gets it! Life ain’t supposed to be spent at some greasy fold-out poker table set up in someone’s basement.

JUNO: Guess I’ve been doing it all wrong, then.

VICKY: And it’s all safe! When your interests take you to this side of the law nothin’s a sure thing. That really gets in people’s head, y’know, makes em jumpy. So I only buy the safe stuff. Stolen, sure, but untraceable, from so far on the Outer Rim that even the chairman of the Hyperion Arts Collection wouldn’t recognize half of it. It’s comfortable here. Secure. That means somethin’ to people.

JUNO: You can stop the pitch anytime now, Vick. I’m not a customer. Spit it out.

VICKY: All right, you want it quick: my delivery system is the crown jewel of my business and some slob’s making off with it. My delivery cars are gettin’ stolen. All of ‘em in the same neighborhood.

JUNO: So… routine car-jackings, then. You got unlucky.

VICKY: If that was all I wouldn’t be so worried. Send in a coupla the Vixens with a coupla trillion volts of firepower, bing bang boom, you’re done. But my cars are the only ones getting stolen.

JUNO: That can’t be right.

VICKY: It is. This is Minerva Heights we’re talking about. Smack in the middle of the damn city. Barely a hundred people live there and they’ve all got enough money to pay the rest of the world to go live somewhere else.

JUNO: And carjacking’s not exactly a rich man’s game. Huh.

VICKY: I need those cars, Steel. This ain’t just my business going down the tubes. I don’t get that product to who wants it, I’m liable to get chopped up so fine you could add mayonnaise to me and call me a salad.

JUNO: Trying to watch my figure, but thanks for the offer. What about the drivers of the cars? They have any leads?

VICKY: Cars all drive themselves. I wouldn’t put my Vixens in danger, Steel. There’s a reason pizza delivery’s the best paying gig in Hyperion, y’know: more people die slingin’ pies than slingin’ grenades.

JUNO: So you send out a bunch of unchaperoned player pianos and they got jacked. I don’t really see a mystery here, Vick.

VICKY: The cars’re supposed to be unjackable. There’s a passcode… a key, something like that. I don’t know too much about it, you’d have to ask the eggheads downstairs. Point is, the car’s got enough laser power to light anyone like a Christmas tree on fire if they start to touch it without the key. They’re supposed to be unstoppable. I wouldn’t’ve got where I am if they wasn’t unstoppable.

JUNO: But someone’s stopping them.

VICKY: By the dozen.

JUNO: Who has access to that passcode?

VICKY: Only upper management at the Vixen Valley.

JUNO: An inside job, huh? Hm.

VICKY: Look, a few gray deals aside, I run a respectable establishment around here. I treat the Vixens well. I ain’t gonna go in for a witch hunt, and I ain’t gonna go firin’ anyone unless I’m positive they’re the rat. This is the family business. What’s the kid gonna learn about how to treat other people if I toss my workers out the second things get a little hot?

JUNO: Sounds like he’d be halfway to a degree in management over at Hyperion U, but I see your point.

VICKY: You gonna help me or not? Y’know, scratch that. I know you are, because I know how deep you are in this ancient Martian garbage, so just sign the damn doc and pass it over.

JUNO: Didn’t know that was such a sore point.

SOUND: PEN SCRIBBLING.

There. I’m all yours, probably.

VICKY: So? What’s the plan?

JUNO: You said it yourself, Vick: I’m lookin’ for a rat. And, speaking as a guy who’s had plenty of rat problems, I’ll tell you that the first step is always the same: you set a trap.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It took a few minutes and a lot of muscle to get Rita out of that dining room—

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

RITA: No! You can’t make me go! I wanna die here, you hear me? I HAVE TO DIE HERE!

JUNO (NARRATOR): —but a few minutes later we were in the car and headed to Minerva Heights.

MUSIC: ENDS.

All… three of us.

SOUND: CAR ENGINE.

JUNO: Vick, I know you like to get hands-on with your business, but this is kind of—

VICKY: Well, whaddaya want me to do? Sit on my rump and wait for you to screw this up? I don’t think so.

JUNO: You aren’t driving my car.

VICKY: Watch me.

SOUND: TIRES SCREECHING.

So, detective? Where to?

RITA: We’re goin’ real fast, Mista Steel!

JUNO: I’m guessing you don’t keep your delivery cars in the Vixen Valley. Too easy to track. So you’re bringing me wherever you do keep 'em.

VICKY: Why? Those ain’t the cars I’m worried about.

RITA: Right now I wish we’d all be a little more worried about this car! Please?

JUNO: I know they’re not. Yet. That’s the plan.

VICKY: You better know what you’re doin’, Steel. I don’t want a big goddamn mess, you hear me?

SOUND: CAR HORN.

The wife cannot know about this.

JUNO: Your wife won’t find out, Vick. I promise.

RITA: (HYPERVENTILATING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): The plan was a good one. As good as any I’ve ever made, anyway. If a Vixen was coming out to steal cars, there was only one way guaranteed to draw them out: give ‘em a car to steal.

But first, we had to make sure the Vixens knew about it.

VICKY: You talkin’ back to me, Tod? After all I done for you? You gonna question me? Tell me, who runs the Vixen Valley, huh? Is it Valles Tod’s Vixen Valley, is it? Is it? Didn’t think so! Special delivery, goin’ out to Minerva Heights in fifteen minutes. You make the calls by then or you tell Pup to put Braised Tod on tonight’s goddamn menu!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Back at the Vixen Valley, dozens of computer techs hiked up their fishnets and got to work. Vicky’s coordinates shot through her underground servers, and there in the garage the delivery car flexed its cannons, revved its engine, and then it was off, peeling down the road towards Minerva Heights.

RITA: Oh, oh, it’s gettin’ away!

VICKY: Not for long it ain��t!

JUNO (NARRATOR): We screamed onto the freeway—

RITA & JUNO: (SCREAMING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): —and made it over to Minerva Heights in no time.

RITA: Where’d it go? I don’t see it, where’d it go??

VICKY: I don’t know. It’s already off its usual route.

JUNO: So our perp’s whoever plans the routes. Well, that’s another case solved by Juno Steel, private eye.

VICKY: That’s almost two dozen Vixens you just described. Case ain’t over yet. Lucky for us, Mission Control tracks the GPS location of every delivery bot… until it disappears. So long as it ain’t gone yet, we should… there! Tucked itself into that alley.

JUNO: I’m takin’ a look. Rita, you circle the block.

VICKY: And me?

JUNO: I’ve given up on telling you what to do.

VICKY: (LAUGHS)

SOUND: CAR DOORS OPEN, CLOSE. FOOTSTEPS.

There’s the car. But it’s just… sittin’ there.

JUNO: Yeah, that’s kind of what most cars do.

SOUND: WATER SLOSHING.

VICKY: So we just reach out and grab it, then?

JUNO: Nope. Now we wait.

VICKY: I ain’t gonna sit in this puddle all day, Steel.

JUNO: You don’t have to. There’s another puddle right over there. Or you could wait in the car with Rita.

VICKY: Hmph.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I thought I was bad at waiting, but Vicky surprised me. We sat in that alley for barely twenty minutes. Vicky was ready to blow her stack after three.

VICKY: This is rich. Oh, this is great. You really get paid to do this all day? Sit in an alley and wait for your opening to disappear? Christ, what a racket. I shoulda paid you half what you got.

JUNO: (HALF-WHISPERING) Waiting seems that easy to you, huh.

VICKY: It’s not like you’re doin’ anything, is it?

JUNO: If it’s that easy, then you shouldn’t have any trouble doing it quietly.

VICKY: Fine. I’ll wait. I’ll wait you under the goddamn table. You’ll see. I can wait with the best of ‘em.

JUNO: I never said you couldn’t.

VICKY: Couldn’t you pick a dryer corner? These are new pants!

JUNO: Vick, this is a storm drain. There aren’t any dry corners.

VICKY: Jesus! The wife ain’t gonna take this well, Steel. They were a gift!

JUNO: I really wish people would stop moaning about their wives today; I am getting real sick of it.

VICKY: Eh, you’ll get it when you get married.

JUNO: Don’t hold your breath.

SOUND: DISTANT FOOTSTEPS.

On second thought, do. Someone’s coming.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

VICKY: Gettin’ real close… if whoever that is doesn’t watch herself she’s gonna be shrapnel in seconds.

JUNO: Shhh!

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEPS.

COMPUTER VICKY VOICE: Back off. Buster. Or you’re gonna be shrapnel. In seconds.

VICKY: I’ve got such suck-ups over in R&D.

JUNO: He’s coming closer… Looks familiar, but where have I seen…

SOUND: BEEPS.

COMPUTER VICKY VOICE: Key accepted. Got a. Password?

VOICE: “Zerda.”

VICKY: What the…?!

SOUND: BEEP.

COMPUTER VICKY VOICE: Accepted. You got lucky. This time. Punk.

VOICE: Huh.

VICKY: Tod?!

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was Tod, stepping through the thick rain of the alley. It took me a second to recognize him. I usually didn’t see him wearing… well, pants.

VICKY: I’m gonna wring his scrawny neck!

SOUND: CAR DOOR CLOSES.

He’s takin’ off, Steel, get your girl over here and let’s go!

JUNO: Cool it, Vick. Where’s he gonna go? It’s a dead end.

SOUND: GARAGE DOOR OPENING.

Or it looked like a dead end.

VICKY: The damn wall just folded up like a garage door! Are you really gonna just sit around to see his next trick?

JUNO: I don’t know, I’m trying to think.

VICKY: Well, think out here all you want. I’m goin’ in. Wait ten minutes and then bring in a cleaning crew.

JUNO: Vick, get back here! Ah, damn it.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was too late. The door was already closing.

SOUND: GARAGE DOOR CLOSING.

I didn’t know what we’d find there – didn’t know if there’d be any place to hide. But I knew that Vicky was going to make our ambush about as subtle as a neon mousetrap and I knew I couldn’t get what I needed if she got herself gutted.

I followed, and the door closed behind us.

VICKY: Decided to show some spine, huh?

JUNO: Keep it down. We don’t know what’s in here – if you want all your cars back we need to stay quiet until we figure out everything we can.

VICKY: Fine. I’ll play super-spy. But I ain’t gonna put on one’a those damn catsuits.

JUNO: Di– did I even as–? Nevermind. Look, at least it’s dark. So stick to the walls, go slow, and try not to let anyone see you.

VICKY: This to me is not expert advice, Steel.

JUNO: Look, just try to take stock of what they’ve got.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

VICKY: How’re you so sure my product’s all here?

JUNO: I’m not. I have a system, Vick. Do I really have to explain every step to you?

VICKY: If I’m payin’ for those steps, yeah!

JUNO: Look, even if your cars aren’t here, we should find a trail to where—

SOUND: FLOODLIGHTS TURNING ON, BUZZING.

Damn, the lights! Hide!

VICKY: What the… ain’t nothin’ here but the car we brought ‘em!

JUNO: When I said hide, I meant now!

VICKY: I’m done hidin’. Tod! Get out here! Tod!

JUNO: I’m not feelin’ good about this, Vick.

VICKY: Ain’t my fault.

JUNO: Whose fault is it, exactly?

VICKY: Time is money, Steel! I got a business to get to! A family!

JUNO: Well, at this rate you’ll be real lucky if you ever see either of them again!

SOUND: HISSING.

VICKY: What’s that comin’ in the vents?

JUNO: I don’t know, let me check the weather report. It’s gas! The hell do you think it is!

VICKY: I ain’t dyin’ here, Steel. The wife cannot know about this!

JUNO: I’ll be sure not to invite her to the funeral!

SOUND: SLAP.

VICKY: Get us out of this!

JUNO: The doors are locked. This is your fault!

VICKY: I don’t want excuses! I want results!

JUNO: I’ll give you results!

SOUND: SLAPPING, PUNCHING, GRUNTING.

VICKY: Hey!

JUNO: Ow. …hey hey hey! Ah!

VICKY: You like that?! Unh!

JUNO: Not cool not cool!

Ow! Ow ow ow!

VICKY: (PANTING) You sure… get winded… faster than you used to. You get old, or something?

JUNO: (PANTING) There is gas. In the air. You moron.

VICKY: You work for me, P.I.! Watch who you call… a…

SOUND: THUD.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Vicky hit the ground and the ground didn’t stand a chance. Neither did I. The air was full of gas, now; gray with it. My lungs filled up with the stuff, thick and warm as cotton.

And off in the distance, by the door, I swore I could see the silhouette of Tod, all six well-toned feet of him. I tried to feel betrayed, but really, I just felt sleepy.

The gas filled me up, til I was lighter than air, and then I slept.

SOUND: THUD. SILENCE.

***

SOUND: DISTANT CHATTER, PIANO.

JUNO: (GROANING, GROGGY) Vicky? What are you doing in my… Vicky. Vick! Wake up.

VICKY: Honey, just let me go back to— (YELPS)

SOUND: PUNCH.

JUNO: (WINDED) What was that for?

VICKY: Whaddaya mean?! We didn’t– we ain’t—?

‘Course we didn’t. Jesus. You ever wake up and I’m in bed next to you, Steel, do me a favor and smother me with a pillow before I open my eyes.

JUNO: Listen, Vick, if that ever happens, first pillow’s for me.

Where the hell are we?

VICKY: Whaddaya think I am, a bat? I can’t see in the dark any better than you.

JUNO: Stop whining and find a light!

SOUND: CLICK.

Got it.

VICKY: (CACKLING)

JUNO: What? What’s so funny?

VICKY: Nice pajamas, Steel. Where’d you get ‘em?

JUNO: What?

…Someone changed my clothes! What the hell is this?!

VICKY: It’s a tuxedo, moron.

JUNO: Seriously? Well, you’re wearin’ one too, you know.

VICKY: I’m what?

Wha?! Gassin’ us… changin’ us in our sleep… some kinda sicko we’re dealin’ with.

JUNO: …Hey, I look pretty good!

VICKY: Stop droolin’ over yourself and help me find a way outta here.

Steel!

JUNO: Alright, alright, I’m coming.

VICKY: Can’t see anything could pick the lock. Just a buncha cleanin’ junk. Must be some kinda supply room.

JUNO: You try the door?

VICKY: ‘Course I didn’t try the door. You think they’re gonna just drug us and leave us in an unlocked closet?

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Well, damn.

JUNO: No ropes, no lock, nice duds. I’m thinking our kidnapper wants us to enjoy the party.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

This is a fancy place… How do you figure Tod got his hands on enough cash for a place like this? Sellin’ off all the junk he stole from you?

VICKY: He didn’t sell it. It’s all on the walls.

JUNO: You’re kidding me. These paintings?

VICKY: And the drapes; that vase; even the plant inside it - that’s a Procellian Nightshade, straight from Ranga, last of its goddamn kind, worth ten billion creds on a cheap day. And it’s sittin’ in someone’s goddamn hallway!

JUNO: So Tod stole all these cars from you… and used them to jazz up his apartment?

VICKY: I knew it. I never should’ve trusted him. Tod was always too much of a weasel to be a Vixen.

JUNO: He could be working with somebody. For someone, maybe. Anyone come to mind?

VICKY: Gonna pop him like a goddamn weasel, soon as I get my hands on him!

JUNO: (SIGHS) Sounds like the party’s on the other side of this door.

Alright. We’ll take a quick look, should be easy enough to find Tod. We’ll grab him, grab your stuff, and get out of here. Ready?

SOUND: KNUCKLES CRACKING.

I’ll take that as a yes.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS. PARTY NOISES AND MUSIC.

Uh-oh.

VICKY: Easy enough to find him, huh?

JUNO: How was I supposed to know there were gonna be three thousand people at this stupid party?

VICKY: This is great. Just great. You’re a lousy detective, Steel, and I’m getting the hell outta here. The wife’s gonna tear me to pieces for this.

JUNO: So soon? Aw, Vick, you haven’t even asked me to dance yet.

VICKY: Stuff it, Steel! I’m sicka this. Sicka all of it. I’m trustin’ the cars to you, now. Supposed to be a respectable business… gettin’ my hands dirty like some kinda– little rat!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO: Don’t be so hard on yourself. Rat, maybe, but li—

Vick? Vicky, where you goin’?!

VICKY: Tod! When I get my hands on you, there ain’t gonna be enough left to stuff a sausage roll!

JUNO (NARRATOR): She cut through the party like a sledgehammer through butter. I caught up just in time to stop her from doing the same to Tod’s face.

VICKY: Leggo! Leggo’a me, Steel!

JUNO: No can do, Vick; I made you a promise, remember? You kill Tod in front of all these people and your wife finds out about your little side-job in the morning paper.

TOD: I must suggest you take Detective Steel’s advice, Vicky.

VICKY: Who’re you callin’ Vicky? I’m your boss, damn it!

TOD: Not anymore, I’m afraid. I’ve resigned.

VICKY: Resigned?! You’re fired! You messed with the wrong guy, weasel; I own this town! You think you’re ever gonna get a job again? I’ll put you in the ground, buddy, and I’ll put whoever hired you even deeper, and I’ll—

TOD: I do appreciate the offer, Vicky, but that won’t be necessary. I already have an employer. And I believe she’s on her way now.

VICKY: You’re sunk, Tod. Sunk. Backstab me? There ain’t nobody in this town, hell, ain’t nobody in this galaxy who ever even made me flinch, you hear me?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

VOICE: He can hear you perfectly well, Vicky. I think the whole party can.

VICKY: Who the hell do you think you are, buttin’ in on- what the… suh… wha… no! You gotta be kiddin’ me. …Ingrid Lake.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I’d never seen the woman behind us before, but Vicky certainly had. Ingrid Lake was a cool drink of water – liquid-nitrogen cool, with blue eyes that shimmered like glacial planets in a soft night sky. She was a showstopper. The crowd around her froze – and so did Vicky.

They hadn’t shared many words, but I already knew the kinds that they must have shared before – the soft midnight words that barely make it past the pillow; and at some point the big, explosive ones that tear a life in two.

These two had history, and I didn’t like it. History is messy – that’s why in a job like mine I keep from making any of my own. P.I. work’s dirty enough without your own muck getting mixed into the business.

VOICE [INGRID LAKE]: Valles Vicky, in the flesh. Oh, how wonderful! I was so hoping you’d accept my invitation.

JUNO: You call a lung full of knockout gas an invitation?

VICKY: Steel, I’ll handle this.

JUNO: I’m not sure you will. You look like you can barely handle standing up.

INGRID: Don’t let her fool you, detective; Vicky is a very capable woman. So very… strong.

VICKY: Thought you were in Hoosegow, Ingrid.

INGRID: I was! What a marvelous establishment, Hoosegow; the only prison I’ve ever heard of that genuinely cares about corrections. So open, so willing to listen!

JUNO: I’ll bet the cameras are pretty willing, too.

INGRID: Oh, they are. And so many generous people watching those cameras – such lovely, lovely people! They gave me a second chance, Vicky. A second chance at life, away from those prison bars. A second chance… at the only life I’d ever really want.

VICKY: We called it quits for a reason.

INGRID: Because I went to Hoosegow, yes! But this beautiful city had other plans. It heard my plea, and I… I’m back now. I’m back!

VICKY: It’s been fifteen years.

INGRID: And I’ll regret those years forever. But there’s nothing to be done about them, Vicky. Only the future, now – the beautiful future before us. Don’t you see?

VICKY: A lot changes in fifteen years.

INGRID: Not how I feel about you.

VICKY: Yeah, well—

INGRID: And not how you feel about me, Vicky. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I’ll smell the lie on your breath.

VICKY: (STUTTERING)

JUNO: …Right here. (CLEARS THROAT) I’m, uh, I’m still right here.

VICKY: No, no, no. Look, Ingrid, I’m sorry this all shook out the way it did, but… Jesus, I got a kid now! A wife! I’m tryin’ to go straight, to get outta all that business you and I got up to!

INGRID: They’ll understand. We’re in love! And you do still owe me from that business, Vicky.

VICKY: Owe you…? No. No way. I told you, it was a bad idea. I didn’t want any part of it to begin with!

INGRID: But can you deny you needed it? Needed me?

VICKY: I…

INGRID: You may not like what I did for you, Vicky, it may not taste as sweet as those cheap cigars of yours, but you can’t deny you’ve benefitted from it. You wouldn’t have your precious Vixen Valley without your darling Ingrid, would you?

VICKY: I…

INGRID: Would you?

VICKY: I– I don’t know, alright? Is it money you want? I’ll get you money, I owe you that much anyway—

INGRID: Money? You think I want… money?

VICKY: I, I, I- I mean—

INGRID: You think I’m going to take money from you like one of your cheap little Vixens?

VICKY: Hey, nobody calls my Vixens cheap!

INGRID: Well, that’s all they’re worth, isn’t it? Tod knows. They give time, they’re paid in money. Well, I paid fifteen years for you, Vicky, fifteen years of a heart behind prison bars, and if you think any paycheck can ever be worth fifteen years of a life, you’re a bigger fool than you were all those years ago!

Oh, darling… let’s not fight. I hate when we fight.

VICKY: You ain’t the only one.

INGRID: That’s not what this is all about, anyway… the stolen paintings and everything else. I don’t care about them. I care about you, Vicky. All those years I sat in my cell and I pined for you, pined. And now… now we can be together again. Don’t you want that?

VICKY: (AFTER A PAUSE) No, Ingrid. I’m sorry.

INGRID: What?

VICKY: I got a life. Fifteen years ago is fifteen years ago. I got now to deal with.

INGRID: You’re really… turning me down?

VICKY: I am.

INGRID: I never thought…

Well, but of course I did. You were always so stubborn, Vicky, ever since the day I met you. That’s why I had to steal all of those cars to get you here: to show you this beautiful place, with all this beautiful art on the walls. The kind of life we’ll have together, when you come to your senses.

That’s right: you never knew how to take care of yourself. Well! Lucky that your Ingrid is back, now, to show you just how it’s done.

VICKY: Ingrid—

INGRID: Shh! Hush, now. Take some time to think. Until midnight! That’s just it! Oh, you’re such a romantic, Vicky; a confession of love at midnight!

VICKY: Ingrid, it ain’t like that anymore.

JUNO: Vick, let’s go. I don’t think she’s gonna hear you, where she’s gone.

INGRID: Go? Where is anyone going? Nobody can leave until the party’s over!

VICKY: Ingrid… The doors are locked, ain’t they?

INGRID: I couldn’t let you get skittish, could I?

Well, if you’ll excuse me, it’s nearly time for my toast. But I’ll see you again, darling, and soon – if not here, then in our home beyond the stars.

SOUND: KISS.

Goodbye!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: I thought my exes were bad.

Vick?

MUSIC: ENDS.

Vicky, you alright?

VICKY: No, Steel. You want to know the truth? I ain’t alright.

JUNO: But what—

SOUND: CLOCK TOWER CHIMES.

INGRID: Attention, everyone! Can I have your attention, please?

Thank you. And thank you all so, so very much for coming! It means the world to me, it really does – and I hope that I can return to each and every one of you just a portion of the kindness you’ve shown me.

JUNO: This is about that “home beyond the stars” crack, isn’t it?

Vick!

INGRID: A second chance. That’s what you’ve all given me: a second chance. And sitting in that cell, I thought… what gift could be more beautiful, more precious, than a second chance?

VICKY: Ingrid and I… used to get up to some dirty business, Steel. Ain’t exactly proud of it.

INGRID: Without my editor, my publicist, and all your kind words and open hearts, I would still be in that cell. Rotting inside and out. Because as beautiful as trust is, not to have it…

VICKY: Wrong side of the law, barely outrunnin’ the cops, day in, day out… more than a few close scrapes. And we thought, if they catch us, they ain’t exactly gonna lock us up together… and who knew if we’d ever see each other again.

JUNO: What are you drivin at, Vick?

INGRID: …To never be given a second chance… why, that could make you mad. (GIGGLES) I don’t know what I would have done, if I were denied my second chance.

MUSIC: STARTS.

Something… oh, it’s too horrible to think about…

VICKY: We promised, if they ever caught us, we’d head to what we called our ‘home beyond the stars.’ No ticket necessary. Just two heavy-duty laser bolts to our own brains.

Steel, you gotta get me outta here. I got a wife waiting for me. I got a kid, you hear me? I ain’t gonna die.

INGRID: …So thank you all – thank you all so very much. I couldn’t ever repay you, not possibly… but for your generosity I hope, at midnight tonight, to show you just what the new Ingrid Lake is capable of.

VICKY: I ain’t gonna die here, Steel! You hear me? I ain’t gonna die!

INGRID: A toast! To starting over!

CROWD: To starting over!

SOUND: APPLAUSE.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Starting over.

Every nuthouse, poorhouse, and jailhouse in the galaxy is bursting with people asking to start it all over again. But there’s no such thing. Never has been. You can’t outrun your past – it always finds a way to catch up with you.

Take Valles Vicky, who’d broken Ingrid Lake’s big, crazy heart, which loved too much for anyone’s good. Vicky thought she got away with it. She thought with a fifteen-year headstart she could finally have the clean slate she’d always wanted.

But there’s no such thing. Never has been.

Valles Vicky broke a heart, and history had caught up with her. In one hour the heart would still be broken, and unless I did something about it, Valles Vicky would be broken, too.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: RAIN & MUSIC.

CONCIERGE: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider supporting The Penumbra on Patreon. You could receive episodes early, read our scripts, and hear commentary by our cast and crew for only a few dollars per episode. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. That’s P-A-T-R-E-O-N-dot-com-slash-thepenumbrapodcast. Please consider supporting the artists who make this possible. Every dollar helps.

You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories farther and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Midnight Fox, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Kate Jones as Rita, Elliot Sicard as Captain Omar Khan, Leslie Drescher as Valles Vicky, Jon Smalls as Tod, and Melissa Ennulat as Ingrid Lake.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our lead editor. Juno’s theme was written by Ryan Vibert.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I’m so sorry you’ve been called away, dear Traveler. We eagerly await your return.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

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