#wow I can’t remember bills either

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Part 2

“STEVEN MARION HARRINGTON.”

“Not my middle name.” Although Robin had made several valiant attempts in guessing it every time she needed to burst into his office all guns blazing. Which was unfortunately… often. She still hadn’t managed to crack it.

He didn’t actually have a middle name. He wasn’t going to tell her that though, this was funnier.

She slapped a sheaf of papers down onto his desk, a brief flick of the first page told him they were call logs and transcripts “What did you DO?! Claudia’s been getting calls all morning asking about renovations?”

“Okay, so, in my defence. It was Nancy’s idea.” That was his whole defence. It was Nancy’s idea. His idea had been worse.

“Explain.”

“You know, most people in my position don’t have to explain themselves to people who work for them, their people just respect them, and do as they say without argument.” He mused, mostly to himself, but he could see the woman’s eye twitch in annoyance and so he sighed in defeat, it’d only wind up with him having those papers whapped around his head. “Remember the wallet I found?”

“The one that was bumming you out?”

“Yeah! Well, when I went out for a walk, I found the guys work address and—”

“You know we have guys who do that sort of shit for us, right? You can’t be stalking people, Dingus, what the fuck?” That sheaf of papers was dangerously close to hitting him. She’d picked them back up an everything.

“Just listen! He was at work, I didn’t talk to him or anything I’m not stupid, but... his manager made this girl cry so he just decked him, laid him out, one punch an he was down, then he just quit his job, right there, shit was spectacular.” Steve could appreciate a good bit of muscle, could appreciate a scrapper. Plus the guy was hot so, that helped. “Doesn’t look like his photo either, he’s got so much hair, Robs, it’s... wow, he’s just—”

“Ew, I don’t wanna hear about your crush on some random guy, what’s this got to do with these renovations Claudia’s being spammed over?”

“Okay so, guy lost his job.”

“Quit, quit his job.”

“Defending a ladies honour, something I thought you’d appreciate.” She raised a single unimpressed brow “but, I... I was gonna just send him rent money for a few months, y’know, cover a few bills, charity!” His heart was in the right place, his head however, his head was in space.

“That’s not charity that’s stupidity, but go on.”

“That’s what Nance said! Apparently it’d be suspicious if I were to be found sending large amounts of cash in nondescript envelopes to an apartment block notorious for drug activity, so she suggested that since I’m already buying that bar nearby, it’d look less conspicuous if I just... bought the building the guy lives in and claim I was developing it, make it seem like I have an interest in building up local problem areas.” She frowned, silent in her thoughts as she processed.

“... And what about the rent forgiveness?”

“I was gonna pay for his rent, might as well just not have him pay rent, y’know? An it’s gotta be building wide or there’ll be questions, like why is he so special, it’d put him under scrutiny. So Nance suggested putting a stop on rent as we ‘renovate’ as a sort of, we’re disrupting your life so here’s a break for you kinda deal.” Honestly Nancy really was a life saver, he really ought to give her a raise, he’d have been fucked over years ago had he not pulled her into the fold.

“So that means we’re actually going to have to renovate this block then?”

“I mean—”

“Were going to have to renovate this block, Steve. We can’t just forgive the rent forever, that’s bonkers, that would raise eyebrows, and we can’t afford eyebrows being raised at us right now. So you’re going to have to have professionals go in and survey the apartments inside for renovations.” This was now an actual thing he’d have to do.

“Ah well, gives me something to occupy my time with. Also I was thinking—”

“Never a good sign”

“Shut up, I was thinking of putting Argyle in there as a plant, like... the drugs being peddled out of that block are just trash, at least we could get a solid dealer in there and get Argyle out of the Wheelers basement.” He’d only been staying there because Joyce didn’t have a basement and Jonathan didn’t have room for him.

He was Jonathan's friend, and Jonathan came with Nancy, Steve didn’t have any reason to help him out. Now he did! And that reason was getting those poor people better weed.

“Are you not worried that the existing dealers will start shit with him for moving into their turf?”

“They touch him they deal with Hargrove, he's been particularly irritable lately, anything could set him off, pretty sure he’d be jazzed to break a few legs.” Release some of that pent up rage he seemed so good at bottling up in tiny easily burstable bottles. “One visit from that nut job and they’ll settle right down.”

He didn’t like Hargrove, but he had to admit the guy was a useful enforcer. Indebted to Steve too after Jane had taken a nail imbedded baseball bat to his old employers head in a bid to help her friend Max escape the debt her stepdad had racked up with him. Billy had also been freed, being Max’s step brother, left unmoored and in danger of a jail cell.

Steve had taken them both in after getting rid of Creels corpse. It was Hopper’s idea. Billy wouldn’t have survived in jail, too many enemies in there.

“It only takes one hit to hurt Argyle beyond repair though, maybe get rid of the dealers in there already, then give Argyle one of the apartments.”

“See you’re already on board!” And there was the whack round the head with the papers, his sharp objection going ignored.

“Fine, I’m on board, but only because it’s Nancy’s idea.” She was retreating as she spoke “Yours was a trash fire, like, not just one of those little oil barrel fires I mean like a whole dumpster fire. Argyle stays out until it’s safe though, I mean it Steve, I will get Hopper involved.” She opened the door, ready to go.

“You can’t threaten me with my own Chief of Police! That’s so mean!”

“Watch me, dingus. Also you have two people downstairs from your little block purchase wanting more information, do you wanna deal with them or should I?”

“Do you think I could actually spin a good idea to explain this that won’t get immediately reworked by either you or Nance?” She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face that answered his question more than any actual answer would have. “Exactly, you deal with it, you’re better at timelines an stuff anyway.” He was more the big idea guy.

“Yeah but you’re better at people.” It was true, Steve was more the people person out of the two of them. “Fine, I’ll deal with it, and I’ll ask Nance to find some decent contractors to do the work for us. Maybe… drop into my office in like, ten minutes? Considering you let your dick lead you to places I wouldn’t even go with a gun, you should at least make an appearance for these people whose lives you’ve interrupted.”

“Ngghhh fine. Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” And she was out with a tiny salute as her goodbye.  

Part 4

#PirateWrites #FindersGiversFiclet #Steddie #Mob Boss Steve Harrington #No Upside Down AU #Shady!Steve #CW: light-hearted stalker vibes

[asexualasshat]

Y’all remember the tiktok trend where grown ups realized that they’d forgotten how to skip. Headcannon that one, a few years after Derry part 2, Richie is being a silly sappy little fellow. Starts skipping while he and Eddie are a park or whatever. He grabs Eddie’s hand to bring him along for the ride. And Eddie??? Understands the hypothetical concept of skipping. And yet his feet? Doing a sort of botched gallop.

And Richie LOSES IT! Starts roasting him. And Eddie is freaking tf out. He’s yelling but also still trying to figure skipping out. You can’t really tell if he’s yelling more at Richie or at himself. And he’s still galloping away. Richie is on the ground, holding his face in his hands to muffle his laughter.

Eventually, Richie gets up and he starts coaching Eddie. Twenty minutes later, they’re hand in hand, skipping down the path.

Richie didn’t have a choice but to tell the losers everything. And the groupchat?? LOSES IT! At first? Just roasts tf out of Eddie at first. Ben comes to his defence pretty quickly. And then asks “when was the last time you guys skipped? Are you sure you remember?”

And the accusations fly right back at Ben. Asking him if he can skip. And Ben??? In his office wearing his fancy designer work clothes???? Takes a video of himself skipping. And he sure can skip! When he’s done showing off he comes close to the camera and says “we just had a daughter. I’ve prepared.”

And again, they’re going wild. Within minutes, videos start pouring in. Bev is first, obviously immediately ready to support her husband. She’s a dazzling skipper. She’d win first prize in a skipping competition. The technique is impeccable.

Stan is next. He gets Patty into it as well, to know one’s surprise. Neither is perfect. Patty’s footwork isn’t perfect but she has pizazz. Stan is pure technique, to the point that it’s awkwardly stiff. But the pair are smiling and skipping so it doesn’t even matter. Their own daughter just toddles around in the background. Kind of embarrassing for her, but she doesn’t know what embarrassment is yet.

Mike is out in a field, phone probably propped up on his water bottle or a log. He’s mostly just frolicking around, but there’s a few solid skips in there. It’s gloriously cinematic.

Audra is on camera next, and bill can be heard saying “show me! I want to see.” She hangs in the air longer than any mortal should be able to. Her flowy dress flounces out. She giggles in response to bill saying “wow!” and “you’re really good!”

But then hepassed the phone to Audra. Of course they don’t think to stop filming in between, so you hear all the shuffling. Audra says “okay, show me!” And Bill?? The bitch can’t get his feet off the ground. There’s no elevation at all. Audra is losing her mind. She’s scream laughing. Bill looks devastated.

A moment after his own roasting begins, bill texts back “so does this mean I’m a bad dad?” And immediately it turns to dad comfort. Ben’s “kids don’t usually start to try skipping until they’re four. You have two years to practice!” And Stan’s “your son is going to see you learn and grow as a man. You’re setting a great example.” Its really quite wholesome.

Obviously someone filmed it in the park. The world sees the graceful pursuit of Eddie learning to skip. Twitter obviously loves it because it so so silly and sweet. Richie tweets something stupid like (and funnier than) “bet your husband can’t skip, either.”

And Bev, because she has notifications on for Richie, immediately replies with Ben’s video and saying “my husband could beat your husband”

More videos start pouring in. Stan keeps their video as a groupchat exclusive, but tweets from his rarely active account “Richie I literally taught you how to skip when you were 6.” Richie responds calling him a bitch.

Bill posts their video saying “watch me realize I can’t skip.”

And later. Hours later. Many. Hours. Later. Audra posts a video to her insta story. She has taught Bill how to skip. Is it graceful? No. Does it have technique? No. Could you call it good? No. But goddamn he skipped.

Eddie holds it over him for weeks that he’s the better beginner skipper

#idk man this was originally supposed to be 3 paragraphs #I giggled so hard I blacked out and did this #it movie #reddie #richie tozier #fanfiction #it 2017 #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #it chapter two fanfiction #reddie fanfiction #eddie kaspbrak #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #Bev marsh #ben hanscom #stanley uris

[marvelmaniac715]

If I was in various Hatchetfield stories:

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals:

Hive: Do you wanna save the planet?

Me: …No, and I haven’t drank nearly enough water to sing along so stop making me jealous!

————————————————————————

Emma: Take out the head and the whole thing-

Me: I’m on it, I’ll either call you when I’m done or die a hero, either way this is my main character moment, so MOVE. What are you doing with that needle, Professor?

————————————————————————

Me after listening to some of the Working Boys pitch: So which one were you dating? Was it all of them?

————————————————————————

Me in my last conscious moments before being part of the hive: Okay but forcibly controlling women isn’t very slay girl boss of you…

Black Friday:

Me: No, I actually don’t have the money to buy a Wiggly and I don’t leave the house if I can help it so I’m not going to the mall on Black Friday, text me all about it though.

————————————————————————

Wiley: I just need you to do what you do best-

Me: Read fanfiction?

Wiley: Be a mother.

Me: Dude I have no children except for my dog and I think he sees me as some sort of alien… kiss me and I’ll think about it.

————————————————————————

Me after seeing Wiggly (don’t ask why I’m in the Black and White): Why am I looking at yassified Cthulhu? And why are you British? Did eldritch dimensions get invaded by the British too? Wow, the sun really DOESN’T set on that empire…

The Hatchetfield Ape Man:

Me after seeing Konk: …I was wrong, this is nothing like Tarzan, get this man some clothes. Lucy, I know you were never the brightest in your class but someone REALLY needs to tell you what an APE looks like, delulu is not the solulu baby girl.

Watcher World:

Me: I don’t like roller coasters and it’s far too hot, I think I’ll just stay home, sorry Bill.

Time Bastard:

Me watching Ted from a distance: Wow, he really isn’t doing okay…

————————————————————————

Me staring at the Homeless Man: How is nobody realising that this is clearly Ted Spankoffski?

Honey Queen:

Me: What’s my talent? Oh, I can recite the lyrics to every single song from twelve different musicals, even the classics, that ought to win a few judges over… Linda why are you uncoiling that rope?

————————————————————————

Me staring up at Nibbly (I won the title of Honey Queen by sheer force of will) and holding out an unwrapped Snickers bar like it’s a cross: You’re not you when you’re hungry.

Killer Track:

Me: I’m trying to find this song that was sang at the Honey Festival last night but I can’t for the life of me remember any lyrics or what the singer was called…

Nerdy Prudes Must Die:

Me: Hey Ruth, can I sit in rehearsals with you? I could help you with tech and keep you company - after what happened to Richie I don’t think that any vulnerable students should be left alone, I’m surprised the adults haven’t thought this, maybe we should invite Pete too?

#team starkid #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse

[amazingmsme]

Lil work induced daydream I had. Lee Ted Ler Bill Ted hears Paul and some of the others talking about him. And Ted starts overthinking a lil, cause he considers these guys his friends, but it turns out they don't like him very much. And no one really notices, but it actually hurts Ted, until Bill finds Ted having a bit of a cry in the storeroom.

How does it feel to be so undeniably right? Cause this is canon without a shadow of a doubt

I don’t remember where I heard it, but it was either Joey or Jon that confirmed Ted sees Paul as his best friend but Paul just sees him as an acquaintance/coworker & Ted is the saddest, most pathetic & lonely guy in Hatchetfield I have so many feelings about him & I just know something like that would fucking hurt him way more than he’d let on. I tried to incorporate this kinda vibe in my one lee!ted fic but I’m tempted to go ham with it

Once again I got carried away, but can you blame me? This is LITERALLY my bread & butter!

He’d be so heartbroken & pissed off that his coworkers, who he considered his friends, only see him as a coworker, & an annoying one at that. & so he starts to be more reserved & closed off to see if anyone even notices or cares, but all his suspicions are confirmed. He really is a friendless loser that no one would miss 😭

He can hear everyone else in Paul’s cubical joking & making light banter & it makes him spiral & he starts to feel sorry for himself. Then he starts overthinking & before he knows it the first tear has rolled onto his cheek. & he can’t risk anyone seeing him fucking cry of all things. Because Ted Spankoffski is apparently an emotionless creep (wow is that what Melissa really thinks of him? Harsh)

So he goes off to hide while he cries it out of his system, except of fucking course that’s when Bill would run out of staples. He’s worried when he hears crying behind the door & is even more shocked when he opens it to find Ted of all people, tears running down his cheeks, eyes puffy & sniffling as he frantically wipes away tears & snaps at him because “what the fuck could you possibly need in here?!”

Bill hesitantly asks if he’s ok & Ted breaks down & tells him that no, he’s not anywhere near ok so he can stop pretending to care & go back to making fun of him like everyone else

Bill realizes how bad they all screwed up & that Ted must’ve heard what they said, & he knows they can’t really take that back. He tries to apologize, but Ted really doesn’t wanna hear it & the last thing he wants is fake pity. “I heard what you really think about me, so don’t bother backtracking now Bill! You can quit pretending to be my friend now, I’d kinda like to cry in peace”

& Bill just stands there awkwardly because he doesn’t know what to say because damn, he’s got a point. But he’d feel terrible leaving things like this. So he says he’s sorry & he’ll try talking to everyone else & that’s basically the last thing he wants & pretty much tells him as such (“I’d rather never talk to any of you again than have you be fake nice to me”)

By now Ted isn’t crying anymore, but he’s still very sulky & feeling sorry for himself, & Bill can never leave someone with a frown on their face. So after a few failed jokes, he kinda huffs & asks “are you gonna smile, or am I gonna have to make you?” & Ted doesn’t think he’s serious, & even if he did he literally couldn’t care less. So he’s just like “you kidding? I’m still pissed as hell with you guys, you couldn’t make me laugh even if you tried!” & like… famous last words

Bills just like “ok… don’t say I didn’t warn you” & before Ted can ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean, he feels hands start to knead his sides & he’s squirming around & fighting back his laughter because damnit he’s supposed to be angry! Don’t tickle him & make him laugh, he’s having an angsty moment in the supply closet! But Bill is too good at this, & he’s still apologizing as he crawls up to his ribs & oh shit now he’s teasing

Bill keeps “checking in” & asking if Ted’s still upset, & each time he says yes & Bill ramps up the tickling. They’re making so much noise that Paul goes to investigate & he manages to find the closet with all the screaming & he opens it up, expecting Bill to be the one in need of help because, well, Ted’s a fucking menace

Needless to say he’s shook when he sees Ted doubled over in Bill’s arms & laughing his ass off. & he looks up to see who his potential savior is & goes right back to being all pissy because he feels most betrayed by Paul cause like, that was supposed to be his best friend! But he was like the first one to make fun of him! So he’s like “oh great it’s you😡” & Bill’s like “way to go Paul, I was finally starting to cheer him up!” & Ted breaks free to spin around & snap “no you weren’t!” & he turns back to Paul to reiterate “no he wasn’t!”

Bill just ignored him & explains that he overheard everyone talking & Paul’s just like “:o oh…” & Ted just wants to curl up & die cause now Paul’s apologizing & all he wanted was to cry it out & never think or talk about it again. & then he’s asking Bill if he could use some help & now Ted’s really gonna die

Cause yeah they’re doing this to cheer him up, but are they really? Or are they just bullying him for the sake of revenge, & then later add his laugh to the list of things that’s completely insufferable about him? So he’s still trying to hold it in & one of them asks why he even bothers & he’s delirious enough to admit that he thinks they’ll make fun of him for it (🥺😫)

They realize they really did a number on his self esteem & reassure him that they won’t. & they continue wrecking him until he’s a giggly, happy mess on the floor & actually believes it when they say they’re sorry. & yeah, maybe they wouldn’t have put so much effort into cheering him up if they didn’t see him as a friend, at least a little. But at the end of the day, it’s still Ted & he’s petty & salty so he’ll still rub it in their faces to make them feel a lil guilty & milk it for all it’s worth

But they pay much closer attention to when he’s in a bad mood, because shocker, he’s still human & he needs a good cheer up every once in a while too. Not to mention he has the cutest laugh in the office, which came as a shock to everyone (he adamantly denies it when he hears the new rumor going around)

This is definitely gonna be a future fic because I love this idea so very much if you can’t tell

Ted Spankoffski is the poorest meow meow, & sad & pathetic has always been by type of fictional men. & cheer up tickles are just so 🥺 because you can pile on angsty feelings & a good dose of woe is me without getting too heavy about it & they get the pick me up they deserve! So yeah, can’t wait to write this!

#asks #anon ask #prompts #fic in the works #not yet but soon #tgwdlm headcanons #hatchetfield headcanon #ted spankoffski #bill woodward #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #hatchetverse

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

The Night Before - a Malevolent Fanfic

(Part of the Surrogate series. Before A Secret Friend.)

A moment of intimacy between Arthur and John.

A rare joke told.

A small secret given.

A precious treasure received.

AO3

———

The night before, Arthur can’t sleep.

Something isn’t right, but he doesn’t know how to address it. Something changed in the last few hours—and it changed when he was given a clean bill of health.

He doesn’t know why it changed. From all accounts, this should be the best night of… well, hardly his life, but the best night in a while. Hastur isn’t home. The bandages are gone. He’s still purple, but it’s fading. Faroe is visiting daily, and she’s still bringing him flowers.

(Arthur suspects Hastur has done something to keep the flowers in season all year around because she likes them so much, but he would never dare ask.)

Yes, it should be a good night. John even swears the scar tissue is miraculously not too bad. It’s more that you’re still skin and bones than any scarring, he’d said, which is the weirdest way to get someone to eat that anyone ever had, but that was John for you.

You’re still not asleep. John reaches for his hand.

“I can’t. Something is weird.”

Weird?

Arthur shrugs, staring at the eternal darkness that is his world, hoping John enjoys the view of the canopy which, he’s been assured, matches Faroe’s (at her insistence; she doesn’t understand he can’t see). “Just weird.”

John gives Arthur’s hand a squeeze. Tell me.

“Something changed when they took off the final bandages, is all. I don’t know, John. It felt like we opened a new chapter. Only… that isn’t right. Like we pulled the pin on a grenade? That isn’t right, either. Like something turned its attention toward us tonight, when they said I’m finally well.”

John is silent for a long moment. I don’t sense anything, Arthur. It all feels the same.

“Maybe it just means Hastur is coming home.” Arthur stretches; he will never again take for granted the ability to stretch without feeling like half his body was tearing away.

Maybe. Ugh. I wish he’d stay away longer.

“What’s he been doing, anyway?”

He lost a lot of territory while he was running around trying to figure out how to separate us, says John, then pauses. I don’t know how I know that, but… anyway. He’s gaining it back. Interlopers moved in, so he’s having to fight.

“Wow. That’s a thing to consider. Gods fighting… wow.”

Yeah. ‘Wow.’ It’s ugly. I remember. I mean… it was kind of a game. To me. At the time.

“But?” Arthur is very good at hearing when John leaves something unspoken.

But I… see it differently now. John hesitates the way he always does when admitting what he used to be, the things he’d done. I hurt people and didn’t think about it at all. Hurting them wasn’t the goal, it just…

“Didn’t matter.” 

Yeah.

“That’s not who you are now, though.” It’s Arthur’s turn to reach for John’s hand.

John is quieter. It was.

“We both have a lot of things we’d take back, if we could.” Understatement of the century, that one. “We’re alive. That’s what matters. We can… make up for what we did.”

Sure.

Arthur laughs weakly. “Now who’s being all doom and gloom?”

John gasps. You laughed, he says in a tone usually reserved for sunsets of unusual beauty.

“I do laugh sometimes, John.”

Not nearly as much as you used to. Before he… John makes a strangled sound.

“Well. I guess I’m learning again.” His thumb strokes the back of John’s hand.

John sounds a little choked, still. I can think of no better sound. Fuck the piano. Your laugh is my music.

Arthur laughs again, not even on purpose. “Are you drunk?”

Don’t be stupid. 

“Well. Sappy drunks are my favorite, anyway.”

What? Why?

“Cute. Affectionate. Good for cuddling, and whatever. I like sappy drunks.”

After a moment, John says, What kind of drunk are you?

“Before Faroe died, I was a happy drunk. Apparently, I’d get funny. I’d make loads of music, with tons of dirty jokes, right on the spot, and get everybody having a good time.”

And… after Faroe died?

“The bad kind. The worst kind. The kind who’d hit anybody if he thought he could get them to hit him back.”

I’ve never seen you drink.

“Parker got me to give it up.” Arthur shrugs. “Seems like a bad idea to start again now.”

Yeah. John hopes that isn’t one of those things he shouldn’t have said, that he hadn’t hurt Arthur by accident again. John slides his thumb over Arthur’s hand. Still feeling weird?

“Yes. Something changed, John. I have a bad feeling about when Hastur comes back.”

Your feeling tell you anything we can do about it?

“No.”

John sighs.

So does Arthur. “As long as Faroe—”

Don’t. Just fucking don’t.

Arthur is quiet for a moment too long. “It’s how I feel. Do you want me to stop saying it?”

Fuck. No. I don’t want you to hide things from me. Okay? I just… 

Arthur waits. “You just what?”

I want you to give a damn about you, okay? That’s what I want. For things to be okay if you’re okay. Are you happy now?

Arthur withdraws his hand.

Fuck. What? What?

“I don’t know how to give you that.”

What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Arthur?

“I don’t know.”

John waits. Arthur isn’t crying yet. John counts it as progress. Don’t you want things to be okay for you, Arthur? You… you’re not… you don’t want to be hurt, or something, do you?

“No. I’m not suicidal, John. I’m not anything, is the problem. I don’t feel anything about my survival, one way or another.” He pauses. “And I’m not even scared by that, and I know I should be.”

Arthur…

“I guess maybe you just need to feel it for us both.”

John inhales. You’ll let me do that?

Arthur blinks. “If you want to. I won’t… make you do anything, or—”

John touches his lips, then reaches across and grabs his hand again, holding tight so it can’t repeat its escape. If you’ll let me, I can hope for both of us. That’s all I want to do. Quieter, like a vow: I’ll see you through this, Arthur. I will. To the end. I won’t ever let go.

And Arthur does a new thing he’s never done before.

He’s crying again, which he has done, but it’s not sobbing; it’s tears, just tears, as he lifts John’s hand to his lips and kisses it.

Slowly. Lingering. Then he presses it to his cheek, getting his tears all over the back.

Oh, Arthur…

“I don’t deserve you.”

Don’t start that bullshit. I’m the eons-old god who had fun torturing people, and you don’t deserve me?

“When you put it that way, maybe you’re exactly what I deserve.”

A joke.

John laughs. From relief more than humor, he laughs, and it is dark and scary and hearty and deep, just his laugh, and he can’t help that it sounds evil.

Arthur knows the difference, anyway. John’s laugh isn’t evil. Hastur’s is.

After a moment, Arthur laughs with him. And it isn’t long, and it isn’t deep, but it is real.

He rolls over, holding John’s hand, and though tears still sting on his cheeks, he’s stopped leaking already—surely a record. He curls, pressing John’s hand to his chest. “Goodnight, John.”

John grips him, a tight and profound union. Goodnight, Arthur.

Somehow, in spite of weirdness, in spite of grief, in spite of looming mystery, Arthur goes to sleep.

And John watches, and John waits, and John treasures that second joke in his heart like the most valuable thing he’s ever been given, greater than worlds or wealth or warriors, and he does not let go of Arthur’s hand. 

#malevolent #malevolent fic #john & Arthur #arthur lester #john malevolent #arthur & john #malevolent fanfic #malevolent pod #surrogate series

[ar-agon]

Hi! Could I please request a Lost Boys/Bill and Ted fic please? :)

Note: I’m sorry it took so long, life has been busy and my brain had come up with a lot of ideas for this prompt but I hope you like the one that I decided on. It has also kind of got away from me. So, be prepared for part two soon. -Ar

Beach Day

Summary: It just started as a regular beach day. That was before you lost your friends, Bill and Ted on the boardwalk. In your search for them, you came across a group of punks, one of them seemed to wear the face of one of your boys. 

Length: 2245

Santa Carla, the town’s name shouldn’t be able to spark fear into someone but living in California and hearing the stories of what goes on in that town. Well it was no wonder why they called it the Murder Capital of the World. So, of course your friends, Bill and Ted, would choose to go to such a place to go to the beach. They had come to you at the crack of dawn begging you to take them with the promise of paying for gas. It was hard to say no to them, you had been friends for a long time and they knew all the buttons to press to get you to agree. With a sigh had agreed, more so because you hadn’t gotten out of San Dimas for a long time and wanted at least some adventure. You had also heard that Santa Carla had a really nice boardwalk. It was the staying late part that you weren’t sure about but Bill and Ted promised that it would be worth it. Bill even commented that they would keep you safe. Always the knight in shining armor. That’s how you ended up driving the next day at the crack of dawn. Car packed with beach essentials and a cooler filled with food that Bill was already munching on.

“Why Santa Carla of all places?” you asked as San Dimas vanished in the rearview. 

“It was the first place we thought of,” Bill answered. 

“You do know that it’s called the Murder Capital of the World right?” The boys share a look before looking back at you, “you did know that right?” you asked again in disbelief. 

Ted shook his head, “we just looked for the nearest beach, babe.”

“And my dad said that this one has a really cool boardwalk,” Bill added.

“I can’t believe… actually I can,” you sigh, “I’m sure we’ll be fine. As long as we stick together and don’t stay out too late.” 

They agreed quickly. 

“Are we there yet?” Bill asked, nudging you as he leaned forward from the back seat to get a closer look. 

“Not yet,” you tell him as he manages to maneuver himself into the front seat. It was a wonder how he hadn’t hit either you or Ted with all the squirming he had to do. He grinned proudly at you as he sat down in the passenger seat, “I hate to admit but that was… rather impressive.”

“I know,” he winked as he ripped his air guitar. You could see Ted joining in as well. Shaking your head fondly at the pair as you continued your drive to Santa Carla. The rest of the drive was filled with the boys singing to the radio and snacks being passed around. The two hour drive had passed by quickly and before you knew it you were passing the sign for Santa Carla. Bill had leaned out the window watching as the car passed by all sorts of people. He grinned as he sat back down in his seat.

Ted had scrunched up his nose the moment Bill had rolled down the window, “what is that smell?” 

You laughed and looked back at him through the rearview, “that’s the ocean my dude.”

“Yeah, Ted,” Bill agreed with a laugh. 

“Shut up Bill.” 

“Guys,” you spoke up before they could start pushing each other, “look.” You nod your head forward to the boardwalk that just came into view.

“Wow, wicked,” Ted muttered.

“Told you it would be worth it dude,” Bill added.

The moment you had parked the car Bill and Ted raced out of the car and began to rummage through the trunk. You slipped out carefully rounding the car to watch them. They started to pull out the bags that held the swimsuits. Ted was the one that slung it over his shoulder while Bill excitedly took your hand and began to pull you towards the beach. 

“Did you remember sunscreen?” you asked as you willingly let Bill lead you around. It was pointless in resisting, he would just throw you a pair of puppy dog eyes. The ones that you could never resist and he knew it too.

“I’m sure it’s in there somewhere,” Ted shrugged. That made you doubt that they remembered it. It was probably still on the kitchen counter. 

“I made sure he put it in there for you, babe,” Bill spoke up as you finally made it to the beach. You had skipped the boardwalk for now, the beach had been the main attraction the boy wanted to go to. Anyway, you heard the boardwalk was better when it was darker outside. You had agreed to explore the boardwalk just after the sunset for a couple hours before heading home. That was the plan and hopefully they would be able to stick with it. Though you have known the boys for a while now, since middle school, so it might actually be very unlikely that it goes just the way you wanted it to. 

You hadn’t planned to go into the ocean, really you just wanted to watch the pair and read the book you had packed. Even so, Bill made sure that you had switched out of your normal clothes and into your bathing suit.

“Just in case,” he stated with a grin. 

After that it didn’t take long for them to pull you away from your book and into the cool salty water. You should have known that you would spend the majority of your time here splashing about and swimming away from the two boys as they tried to dunk you underneath the waves. Though you did manage to lay back against your towel and air dry out before you, Ted was begging to go get some food. Even if you did still have some snacks in the cooler. That wasn’t enough for them, they wanted greasy food. Canvinal food. So, as a compromise you told them that you would get the food if they started to pack the stuff back in the car. The plan was to meet back up at the tables just a little away from the boardwalk after they were done. When they had agreed you split up. One thing you guys said you wouldn’t do when it is dark but you reckoned that you had enough time to grab food before the sun set. 

Oh, how wrong you were. You had been waiting at the table for about half an hour, the sun long had set before you realized that the boys weren’t coming. That was how you ended up on the crowded boardwalk looking for Bill and Ted. To be fair Ted was probably the easiest one out of the two to spot but in a crowd like this it seemed impossible. You were just about to give up your search and head to the car when you spotted Bill. The stress almost immediately slipped out of your body as you ran over to him.

“Bill, I thought we said that we would be up at the table,” you rushed out. 

“I think you got me mistaken for someone else, sweetheart,” Bill said, no not Bill. The boy might have looked like your friend but he didn’t talk like him and he definitely did not dress like him. Minus the crop top of course. 

“Oh, um… sorry you just look like a friend of mine,” you blushed as you took him and the three other boys around him. One word came to your head when you took in their appearance, punks, “I should go, I’m sorry.”

“We could lend a hand in trying to find your friend. You got me curious in what he looks like,” Not Bill said.

“No, it’s really okay. I was just about to go to our car and wait for them.”

“Aw, come on babe. You’re going to miss out on all the fun,” one of the other boys said. This one was wearing skin tight white pants and a mesh shirt. 

You sighed, maybe just maybe a few more pairs of eyes wouldn’t be a bad idea in finding Bill and Ted. Also, exploring the boardwalk did sound fun. You didn’t think you could trust these boys but so far all they have done is offer you help, “okay, I could use the help. Ted will probably be the easiest to spot. He’s about this tall,” you reach your hand to indicate how tall he was, “he’s got longish brown hair. If you see anyone do air guitar it’s probably them too.” You explained hoping that that would help them be able to spot him. The punks nodded as they listened to your description.

“And the one that looks like Marko?” the icy eyes of this punk caused a shiver to go through you.

“He um… he has shorter hair but it's still curly. Same general features of course,” you waved blushing out of embarrassment in having to describe Bill to someone that looked very similar to him. Once you finished explaining as best you could, the group of boys started to lead you down the boardwalk to more of the popular attractions. 

“What?” you question as you pull your eyes away from a crowd.

“So is this friend of yours, is he handsome?” Not Bill, or Marko asked with a grin as he walked next to you. You guys had been walking around the boardwalk for about an hour looking for your friends. You started with the rides and made your way to the games. You couldn’t fault yourself for riding some with Marko and Paul, that’s what you had come for. You still made sure to keep an eye out for your boys but you had come there to have fun. Which the punks were seemingly happy to supply. 

Marko nudged you as he came up to walk beside you.

“The one that looks like me. Do you think he’s handsome?”

“Do you really just want to know if I find you attractive?” 

Marko had the decency to look slightly offended at the question but soon one of his friends, Paul, you had learned all their names at some point during your search. Other than Dwayne’s who had pulled you to some gaming booth that was seemingly popular and introduced himself personally to you, started to laugh, “he totally is babe,” he grinned. 

“Shut up, Paul,” Marko grumbled. The interaction between the two seemed almost vaguely familiar to that of Bill and Ted. You couldn’t help the silent laugh that spilled out.  it was clear to you that each of the boys in this group had different personalities that seem to fit well with each other. Paul and Marko just seemed to be more like Bill and Ted than you were expecting.

“It’s nothing, they just remind me of Bill and Ted so much,” you stated a light blush dusting your cheeks. 

“What’s so funny, huh?,” David, the leader of the group asked.

Before Marko or Paul could defend themselves, you heard someone call your name from across the boardwalk. A large grin took over your face once you turned to see who it was, Bill was waving his hand along with Ted on the other side of the crowd. Seems like they had found you before you had found them. 

“Bill! Ted!” you called as you ran over to the pair. You were quickly pulled into a group hug once you got close, “where were you guys? I looked everywhere for you.”

They pulled back and looked at you sheepishly, “we got distracted by the lights and ended up at the games,” Bill explained, “but I won you this.” He held out a stuffed teddy bear making you smile.

“Awe, I love him. Thank you,” you kissed his cheek and held tightly to the bear, “but next time please meet me where we had planned. You guys gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” they both muttered. They looked behind you and stared wide eyed. You had forgotten the group that was probably still behind you. 

“Ah, right. Bill, Ted, these guys were helping try and find you. David, Dwayne, Paul and Marko,” you introduced them. 

“That guy looks like you Bill,” Ted stated, staring between the two with a dumbfounded look on his face. 

“I don’t see it,” Marko said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bill nodded, “yeah, I don't know what you’re talking about Ted.”

“You two are unbelievable,” you mutter. 

“Awe, come on sweetheart. I’m much more attractive than him,” Marko winked, making you blush.

“I say it’s a tie,” you teased though you stayed standing next to Bill, who wrapped a protective arm around you.

“So, you do think he’s attractive,” Paul grinned.

“Um… I… maybe,” you stumbled on your words. 

“Well, we haven’t yet explored the rest of the boardwalk. Care to join us?” it was David who asked this with a wicked grin on his face. Bill and Ted agreed while you were hesitant. They were nice and fun to be around while you were looking for your boys but something in the air had seemed to change and you didn’t like it. You gripped your teddy bear tighter.

“Come on, babe,” Bill grabbed your hand and pulled you into the group. So, much for going home before it got too late. You sighed and joined the party, maybe it won’t be too bad.

#The Lost Boys 1987 #asked #the lost boys imagine #bill and ted imagine #bill s preston esquire #Ted Logan #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #80s imagines

[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

Barry episode 4.08 "Wow"

Bill Hader in "Wow". Image courtesy of IMDb.

There is really no better word to describe this show than unique. Which might sound like I’m sugarcoating a less than positive reception, but this time I mean unique in the very best way. I often say, in writing and in life, that it’s a good thing when there’s nothing else like you in the world. If someone’s already done what you want to do exactly the way you want to do it, then what’s left for you to do?

Barry is so itself. I generally categorize tv into either a drama or a comedy and don’t really break it down any more than that, but Barry forces the issue of nuance. It’s a true dramedy in the way it combines short form narrative with a gritty action/thriller plot to tell a story that is, at its core, a deeply ironic commentary on the entertainment industry. It’s not haha funny, but the juxtaposition of the hit man/Chechen mob world with that of Hollywood highlights the senselessness and silliness of each. And the way the series wraps up really hits the nail on the head of these comedic themes told through a dramatic lens. I said “wow” out loud as the final credits began to roll, and then couldn’t hold back a smile as I learned that was the title of the episode.

This is one of those shows that has a very different feel by the end, and I think it’s because rather than people changing, we learn with more and more certainty who they have been all along. I had a friend watch this show all the way through for the first time recently, which was a fun journey to see unfold because I’ve been watching Barry from the beginning. She fell in love with it at first but was given some pause when Barry killed Janice Moss.

It felt different from his other killings, less justifiable. I remember feeling the same way when I first saw it, but as the show progresses, we realize this event isn’t an outlier, but rather our first glimpse into who he is and always has been. So much of the show is catalyzed by Janice’s death because it isn’t a moral gray area. It was wrong. But how do people handle right and wrong and justice when a coveted acting role is on the line? Or a lot of money? Or love? Or the flex of having a boyfriend and looking like you have your life together?

After avoiding an attempt on his life and escaping from prison, some deep flash forwards in season 4 find Barry living an intensely strange and religious life in the middle of nowhere with Sally and their young son John. Their house looks like it’s in the middle of open desert, much like where a young Barry once first met Fuches. Barry and Sally’s son doesn’t even know their real names. It’s pretty bleak, but Barry seems deeply deluded while Sally and John are miserable.

At this point, we’re not even pretending that Barry is somewhat sane. In no way is he the good guy, or even the anti-hero of this story. He’s deeply childlike, his entire moral compass being driven by the father figure he’s latched on to- we’ve watched it shift from Fuches to Gene Cousineau after a phase of teen-like rebellion, and when he was rejected by both of them, we watched him spiral, absolutely lost with no sense of direction. It seems that after this he couldn’t make sense of the world without turning to the ultimate father figure- God.

The thing about God is you can put words into His mouth, and he can’t dispute them. We’ve seen his pious life with Sally and John but this episode especially had a very darkly religious underbelly as Barry returned to LA to kill Gene, listening all the while to a Christian radio station debating the ethics of murder.

When Sally and John are kidnapped by Noho Hank as a ploy to deliver Barry to Fuches (more on all of them in a minute), Fuches is deeply moved by Barry’s son. In an abrupt but sincere change of heart, he lets Barry, Sally, and John all go. In the previous episode, in one of the best depictions I’ve ever seen of a character ‘deciding’ to do something, she had tried unsuccessfully to give up Barry and turn herself in. The thought of continuing to live as they had been, with no end in sight, was unfathomable to her. That night, after escaping Noho Hank and Fuches, Sally urges Barry to turn himself in. Barry’s takeaway, though, is that he has been spared and redeemed by God. He tells Sally she must just be tired, and, in the morning, they’ll get out of LA and clear their heads.

Anthony Carrigan in "Wow". Image courtesy of IMDb.

Unsurprisingly, Barry wakes up the next morning with Sally and John nowhere to be found. In a panic, he rushes to Gene’s house, convinced they’re there. Instead, he only finds Gene’s lawyer, who also encourages Barry to turn himself in as Gene as somehow twisted himself into looking responsible for this whole thing. Barry was never going to do that, but the interaction is cut short by Gene entering the room with a gun and shooting Barry in the chest. Barry looks down at his wound, up at Gene, and says a genuinely earnest “oh wow” before Gene puts another bullet between his eyes.

One of my favorite things about Barry is the very realistic use of speed and sound. This is the kind of moment we’d expect to have a lot of buildup, a highly emotional scene, but it’s very abrupt. It all happens fast- as fast as it would in life, without ample time to reflect. And this also drives home the point that Barry is just a very tragic pawn. He was a pawn to Fuches and Hank, and even to Sally and Gene, though in their case a poorly used one that led to their downfall. He was also a pawn to the narrative, as all the thematic takeaways really have to do with everyone else and how they used Barry, rather than Barry himself.

So let’s talk about these other guys. To me, by the end, there are two important throughlines to this story, both of which involve Barry but neither of which are about him. First, there’s Gene Cousineau and his addiction to attention. When the flash forwards begin, he’s been off the grid, but he emerges when he hears that a movie is being made about Barry and his killing of Janice. Janice’s father is still intently investigating the murder and his suspicions of Gene are confirmed when Barry (in a childlike apology) inadvertently confesses to having given Gene $250,000.

Jim Moss is smart. Gene receives a call from an agent wanting to talk to Gene about someone playing him in the movie about Barry. He doesn’t want to hear it, that is until the agent admits that the actor is Daniel Day Lewis, wanting to come out of retirement to play Gene Cousineau. Gene’s tune changes on a dime. He agrees to meet with the agent, where he overindulges in his self-importance and clandestine admissions that he was like a father to Barry, that Barry is misunderstood and would have listened to anything Gene had to say. He even went so far as to try to humanize him so that Mark Wahlberg- up for the part of Barry- wouldn’t feel bad about playing a cop killer. The incident he is supposedly outraged over, that ruined his life, is actually not so bad if he’s going to be credited in its star-studded dramatization.

Charles Parnell, Robert Wisdom, and Gary Kraus in "Wow'. Image courtesy of IMDb.

Gene and the agent hurry back to the office to meet with Mark, where we learn that the ‘agent’ was an actor hired by Jim Moss, who now believes Gene to be complicit in Janice’s murder, if Barry loved him so much and was such a ‘sympathetic soul’. Gene’s dug himself a hole he can’t dig himself out of, which brings us to the moment Barry arrives at his house looking for Sally and John. Barry is the only one who could clear Gene’s name, but Gene kills him before he gets the chance.

In another decade’s long flash forward, John, now in his late teens, amicably parts ways with Sally. He goes home with a friend and steels himself to watch the movie that really did get made about Barry, Gene, and everything that happened. The movie ends with on-screen text revealing that Gene is serving life in prison for the murders of both Janice and Barry, while Barry is buried in Arlington memorial cemetery with honors.

Again, it’s not ha-ha funny, but it’s a grimly comical look at the extent to which Hollywood will twist tragedy for the spotlight, even to its own detriment. It’s a satire in which all of these bleak characters are the punchline. But what really gives this theme heart, is Noho Hank. The character who started out as the comic relief for this series ends up being the real emotional gut punch. It’s hard to sympathize with Gene, who brought all this on himself with his sleazy personality, but Hank was endearing and his love for Cristobal was real.

Hank and Cristobal were both the comedic and emotional light to this show in the last couple seasons. They were both fun and funny, and they were so entrenched in the violent realm of this story that their violence was more normalized than Barry’s- it was more reminiscent of an action comedy than a poignant ethical dilemma. You can’t help but root for them, especially as they embark on something as silly and harmless as selling sand.

But Hank didn’t want to settle for selling sand. He wanted a life with Cristobal, but he wanted that life to be an empire. So he made some plans behind Cristobal’s back, killing their partners in the sand venture and shaking hands with people Cristobal would never have agreed to. When Cristobal finds out, Hank begs him to get on board, knowing what will happen if he doesn’t. But Cristobal insists on walking out, promptly to get shot dead before he can reach his car.

Hank mourns this, but gets back to work, even partnering with Fuches to build his empire. But when Fuches toasts to Hank, and his willingness to sacrifice Cristobal to make this happen, Hank snaps. Hank refuses to admit to sacrificing Cristobal, and in fact, their deal is off for Fuches having even suggested it. The two quickly end up in a violent feud, trying to kill each other as everything else in this season progresses. Eventually, though, it’s clear that Hank is no match for Fuches, leading to his abduction of Sally and John. This was his white flag to Fuches, if he would come over to Hank’s compound he will use Barry’s family to lure Barry there and deliver him to Fuches.

This is where Fuches has his first human moment of maybe his entire life. He looks at John and admits to Hank that he is a bad person who does bad things- and he is ready to put all the weapons down if Hank will just admit the same thing. If he will say out loud that he is responsible for Cristobal’s death, they can put this all behind them. Hank and Fuches both have a small army with them, and the crowd is silent as Hank thinks and tears well up in his eyes. But he can’t do it. He can’t admit to himself what he and everyone in the room already know to be true. He opens fire, and everyone follows suit. Everyone dies, save for Fuches, Sally, and John.

Anthony Carrigan in "Wow". Image courtesy of IMDb.

Hank has his final moments sitting at the feet of a statue of Cristobal. Blood drips from his mouth as something in another plane makes him gasp and whimper in fear. His hand shoots up and grasps Cristobal’s bronze fingers. And then he dies.

I honestly don’t even have any guesses as to what he saw, but I think the takeaway is that it wasn’t good. To me, this is the real heart and heartbreak of Barry. The real consequences of denial, of being power-hungry, of refusing to take accountability. It adds stakes and emotion to Gene Cousineau’s silly little tale of the same pitfalls. I watch Gene and Sally and the whole Hollywood scene, and think “wow, entertainment really is like that. Our world today really is like that”. Then I watch the Shakespearean tragedy that is Hank’s story and think “wow that is so sad”. Together, they make Barry an on-point reflection of our society, and a cautionary tale of the consequences of all those traits. And it really just made me say wow.

Did you say wow? What do you make of Gene’s killing Barry, or of Sally letting him in to the extent that she did? Did the ending hit for you or were the flash forwards too much? Let me know!

#bill hader #barry #barry berkman #gene cousineau #henry winkler #noho hank #tv review #tv criticism #tv

[valiantturtleballoon]

Re-watch thoughts – Stranger things – season 1, episode 3

If you missed the last re-watch thoughts:

Ok, let's begin:

I may have made a mistake, starting this in the night.

And we’re off, Barb is alive! But barb is also in a gross ass place. If I woke up in a place that had slimy tentacles all over the place I would just keel over right there. Forget the monster. I would be like, excuse me sir. Please move to the left, I need to have a heart attack right about here.

Annnnddd Steve and Nancy are getting it on. Poor barb. She is fighting for her life and nancy is… fighting to feel something. I don’t know, Steve and Nancy just didn’t click.

Aaaah that theme song. I’ve missed you.

Why do I feel like this episode is going to be anything but holly jolly.

Nancy seems… sad. STEVE. Wake the fuck up man. Where is your chivalry man? The girl is about to walk home in the dead of night when there are literal monsters everywhere. Although to be fair, you didn't know there were monsters but still - it's nighttime man. No one should be walking alone in the night. Oh wait, she drove. Still, walk to her car? Tell her to call when she gets home? I dunno. I'm just saying, more of an effort could have been made.

Omg. Mama Wheeler. I like that she’s trying to be there for Nancy. I appreciate that. Also, mama Wheeler appears to be wearing eye-shadow to bed. I mean, it’s a choice.

Oooo no, Joyce. Jonathan is like what in the Thomas Edison is happening here? The lights are talking?! I mean, I can’t imagine what Jonathan is going through right now. Like he’s worried sick but he’s also got to stop his mum from going off the rails. Little does he know that Joyce is closer to the truth that anyone else.

Holy crap they’re all so SMOL. I appreciate Lucas coming up with a plan and Dustin being like I brought the snacks, you are welcome. I repeat, Dustin brought the snacks. I want to be in his group.

LOL, I love the way El is just staring at Dustin when he tries to get her to lift the toy with her mind. It's very much a "boi bye" face.

Omg, Mike giving El his watch is adorable. I had one of those calculator watches at one point and I would never have given it away to anybody.

Nancy has a trapper keeper!!! Nancy has a trapper keeper.

Who knew Hopper was quite the charmer? He was very nice to Patrick. I appreciate that he didn’t yell or anything. You could tell that the security guard was just like - I'm just here for the money man, i don't make the rules.

El is leaving the basement! and she’s... reclining. I like that. Live your best life El! You won't get much of a chance to relax later on. Was Stranger things sponsored by Coke? It just doesn’t seem like El and Coke had a good time together. Wow, the ads were long back then, huh?

Annnnd Joyce has found more lights. This woman does not give up and I love that for her. I mean, I would not have been able to come up with this plan. You know, I’d be that person who would be like ok, if it’s letter A, turn the blender on in the kitchen. If it’s letter B, turn the bathroom light on, if it’s letter C turn on the toaster. And then you know my dumb ass would forget which is which and I'd be saying random letters and words and Will Byers would have died of frustration. Just given up right there in the upside down.

OMG. HOPPER AND HIS DEDUCTIVE REASONING. I AM IMPRESSED.

You know, these lab people are either dumb as shit or bored as shit. They’ve opened a portal of some kind and instead of social distancing the fuck away from that thing or torching the whole damn building, they’re getting all up close and personal with it. I don’t need that kind of drama in my life. I’m barely keeping up with my phone bill let alone monster portals.

El seems to be having quite the reaction to the music box. Does it come back later or is she remembering things or maybe she’s thinking of her mother. Oh! Oh! She’s spotted barb!!! Do you think she knows something happened to Barb?!

You know, words cannot explain how much Steve needed these children in his life. The character development required was something only those adorable hooligans could have achieved with all their meddling.

Lol at Lucas telling Mike he's in love. But honestly, Dustin finding the rock and giving it to Mike after he gets shoved just to make Mike feel better is such a lovely form of love.

Jonathon is definitely giving full psycho stalker vibes with all the pictures of Nancy in the dark room. Look, I don't like the bullying and the shoving and the damaging of private property (especially a camera like Jonathan's, that shit is expensive) but all the photos of Nancy especially the one of her undressing from the window is just not ok. Like come on Jonathon, you can do better. Be better. Honestly neither of these two are good enough for Nancy in their current state. They both have much evolving to do.

Meanwhile, Nancy is like I don't have time to give a fuck about your perviness, I'm pretty sure Barb's gone missing and how the hell am I going to explain leaving her alone. She did to Barb what Steve did to her that night (re the leaving people alone in the night, not the smexy times, although Barb and Nancy could have made one hell of a power couple. The brain power and common sense alone.)

Awww Mama Hopper went to check on Joyce. Love that. And she asked how Jonathon was doing. Mama Wheeler is good people I think. Also tiny Holly is A.D.O.R.A.B.L.E. annnnnd she's following the lights and is about to be captured by that thing. I mean, really. Is no one safe?! Has that Demogorgon no morals?! She is a CHILD. WILL IS A CHILD. WHY DO THEY KEEP GOING AFTER CHILDREN???????

Hopper ghosted the librarian 😂😂 well, she's no Joyce, it's not her fault.

Mike really showcasing his vocabulary here. Mouth breather, wastoid. You can just see El being like is this how the young uns speak?

I don't like it when they yell at El. She took you to the right spot dumbasses! Just ask Joyce, she been talking to him! And even he said he was right here! It's not her fault no one else knows.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. Sirens are never a good thing. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. That's not good. But also, I don't buy it. (I know it's not true, but I'm just saying even when I first watched it. I didn't buy the corpse). Like he was just talking to Mama Wheeler!

Um Joyce. Joyce. JOYCE. JOYCE!!!! Get the fuck outta there. THAT AIN'T YOUR SON! HE AIN'T GOT LONG CREEPY FINGERS AND TALON LIKE NAILS. ABORT. RUN. RUUUUNNN.

It's nice to know that Nancy and Mike still run to their mum when everything gets too much. I really think Mama Wheeler has like untapped potential.

The parallel mom and son hugs is just a very emotional moment. I'm suddenly re-living the moments I've hugged my mum like that (although my situation was much less traumatic. I had just dropped an ice cream).

Excellent episode. Sometimes slightly slow paced but somehow a lot also happened.

On to the next one!

#netflix #stranger things #dustin henderson #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #will byers #eleven #gaten matarazzo #caleb mclaughlin #finn wolfhard #millie bobby brown #noah schnapp #joe keery #nancy wheeler #natalia dyer #jonathon byers #charlie heaton #joyce byers #winona ryder #hopper #david harbour #re watch thoughts #st #justice for barb #mama wheeler #would take bullets demogorgons or nail bats for anyone from stranger things #upside down #duffer brothers #leave the children alone

[pinonhallow]

Episode 1.02

Chad rubbed his eyes as he walked into the brightly lit kitchen. It looked almost the same. The only real difference was that a few things had been updated over the years. The canisters containing flour and sugar were different, the fridge had been replaced, the walls no longer a pale yellow—instead now a creamy farmhouse white. The coffee maker now a Keurig, and the mug tree he had remembered existing all his childhood long gone.

12 years. He had been gone for 12 years. Some things felt very much the same as they had when he’d been a teenager. He searched through the cabinets, looking for the things he needed for breakfast.

He knew his father was already off at the DI offices downtown. His mother was probably at her morning Pilates class before going into her own office at the mall. His brother, well that was a mystery to him.

“We’ve got a great day planned, we’re going to go to the Valley Garden for a hike, then we’re going to go and get some paint samples because guys we’re going to set up a new streaming spot!” Kip Davis stopped, his phone he’d been using to record dropped to the ground, screen face down. “Chad?”

“Hey Skipper.” Chad looked to his younger brother, really taking him in. Of course he’d seen some of his videos over the years. He was hard to miss sometimes.

Kip slowly bent down to pick up his phone, thankful the screen hadn’t cracked. “What are you doing here?”

Chad pulled down a coffee mug, “Decided it was time to come home.”

“How long are you staying in town?” Kip gently put his phone down on the countertop as he went to the fridge. Why had no one warned him that his brother was back? Didn’t that at least get a text message? Apparently not.

“I’m not sure. I’m hoping to catch up with some old friends. I guess it depends on who is still around.” Chad put a coffee pod in the maker and selected the largest size. “I’m working on the next book.”

“More about Wick and Sketch?” Kip pulled a few prepared breakfast burritos out. “I read your latest one.”

“Wow it’s only been out a few days. I didn’t know you read my stuff.” Chad never really thought about his family, let alone his brother reading his books. “My publisher would like another book about Wick and Sketch, I’m just not sure that’s the story I need to tell.”

“Online chatter is pretty positive towards them thus far.” Kip told him.

Chad heard the coffee maker sputter with the last drops of his drink, “Skipper, how closely do you follow my books?”

Kip pulled his phone up, “Do you not know you’re trending on booktok right now?”

“I am? Wait, what is booktok?”

“You really don’t use a lot of social media, do you?”

“I have a blog on my website, and there is a Facebook page my publisher has me post to once in a while.”

“No Twitter/X, or TikTok, or Instagram?”

“No, none of that.”

Kip chuckled, “Wow, you really don’t know anything about social media.”

“I write books Kip. I focus on that, not getting distracted online.”

“Is that all I am, a distraction online?” Kip unwrapped the breakfast burritos and put them on a plate.

Chad shook his head, “No, but that’s what online and social media is for me. A distraction. If I get distracted, then I don’t write. If I don’t write, I can’t pay my bills.”

“We have trust funds.”

“And I haven’t touched mine outside of paying for college.”

Kip nodded, “I haven’t either. Mom doesn’t believe me, but Dad helps me with my business stuff occasionally.”

“I’m glad you can go to them.”

“Why did you leave?”

Chad stared at his black coffee, “I wasn’t given a choice. I was woken up one night, told to pack my bags, and that I was leaving as soon as they were packed.”

Kip shook his head, “I know I did some stupid stuff when we were young, okay I did try to revive the cinnamon challenge recently, but nothing got me sent away. What did you do?”

Chad took a slow, long sip of his coffee, “I fell in love with a girl.”

####

Doctor Trista Silversky rubbed her eyes as she checked the last patient she had to check on before going home.

Brighton Simpson.

She pulled her blond hair into a ponytail before she went into the room. It was dark as he slept, hooked up to ventilator, and other monitoring equipment. She didn’t anticipate him waking up anytime soon. Not with the swelling in his brain, and the other damage that had been done to him.

Not exactly how she ever anticipated seeing her high school boyfriend again. Yet here he was. She made notes on the computer in the room.

“He’s going to be okay, right?” the female voice startled Trista as she looked up and saw his older sister standing in the doorway.

“Bethany, um, right now we don’t know.” Trista logged out of her computer station, “He’s better than he was when he was found and brought in. We won’t know until he wakes up and right now, he’s in a coma. We put him in it, due to the swelling in his brain.”

“Do they know how this happened?”

“No, not yet. At least as far as I know. Detective Siobhan Lane will know more, she is working the case along with Detective Lucas Becker.”

Bethany scoffed, “Siobhan is really a Detective?”

“Yeah, and a damn good one.” Trista started to move towards the door. “Visiting hours are until seven, you should talk to him. Let him know someone who cares about him is here.”

“Who is his doctor?”

“I am.” Trista told her before walking off. Of all the possible family members of Brighton’s that could’ve been in town—it had to be Bethany.

Bethany entered the room as she moved closer to her unconscious brother. “Oh Brighton, what mess did you get into?”

She sat in a nearby chair as she looked at his resting body, “Mom and Dad are aware of this. But Dad can’t come because of his own medical stuff, whatever that is.”

“What are you even doing in this damn town? I wouldn’t be here if my daughter wasn’t here.” She rolled her eyes as she looked around the room, “She’s apparently sixteen. How is that even possible?”

She looked at the smart watch on her wrist and set a timer. As soon as it buzzed on her wrist she would leave. She didn’t need to sit vigil at his bedside. Besides, she came to town for other reasons. Brighton was now just a distraction from them.

####

“We’ve got flowers for Pam Mitchell.” The delivery boy smiled as he stood near the counter of the coffee shop.

“Thank you.” Pam accepted them, looking for a clue on who had sent them.

“You’re welcome, have a great day.” He was gone before she could say anything else. She sighed as she reached up to look at the note attached. No name, no initials, no real note besides they should be delivered to her, to the shop, not to her home.

“Who are the flowers from?” Abby appeared at the counter.

“Don’t know.” Pam shrugged before breathing in the scent of the flowers. “Must be a secret admirer.”

“Do we still have those in 2024? Or would it just be the start of a stalker situation.” Abby opened her purse to pull out her phone.

“Whatever let’s go with the sweet idea. Worst thing that happens is it’s someone I wouldn’t date and I have to let them down gently.”

Abby stared at her friend, “Do you not watch any kind of true crime? This is the start of a Dateline or 48 Hours. This is how you end up dead, especially if they ask you to go hiking.”

Pam blinked trying to decide if her friend was being serious or paranoid. “Abby, this is Colorado. We go hiking. Hell, I was planning on going to Valley Garden this afternoon when my shift is done. Actually, you should join me. I have a feeling you’ve got some creative block since you’re here and not working at home right now.”

Abby sighed, “Mom is working from home again. I was going to get a cold brew and work in the café today.”

“I got you.” Pam rang her up, “Hey, we’re going to moonlight tonight. Come with us.”

Abby tried to find an excuse in the back of her mind, but she knew she didn’t have one. “I will. I should be done with this project soon, so I could use a night out.”

“Wonderful!” Pam handed her the coffee, “I will text you what time we’re all meeting up.”

“Who is actually going?”

“You, Me, Maggie, maybe Trista.”

Abby nodded, “Okay, I think I can handle that.”

Pam chuckled, “You are such an old lady sometimes. Seriously, move out of your parents’ house.”

“When the time is right, I promise you I will.” Abby took her coffee and waved to Pam as she went to go finish the project she was doing.

####

Siobhan removed her sunglasses as she entered the police department. She had waited at the hospital most of the night waiting to see if Bethany would show up. When she left at seven am, she hadn’t shown up yet. Siobhan had gone home, set her alarm for a few hours and slept. She took a quick shower; her hair was still damp now.

She could only hope that Lucas found something so that they could figure out who did this to Brighton.

She went straight to the coffee maker, pouring herself a cup and then adding six sugar packets and a splash of cream.

“Lane, glad you finally showed up.” Lucas was behind her, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“Tell me you have something.”

“Oh, follow me.” He led her down the hall to a conference room.

“Becker, if this is you hitting on me, I will be in HR so fast.”

“Never Lane, never.” He chuckled as he opened the door.

The conference room was filled with several boards. Pictures posted of different players in an organization. A few silhouettes to represent the few parties that had not yet been identified. Sitting at the conference table with his legs up, was Holdon wearing a visitor clip and an FBI badge around his neck.

“What is going on?” Siobhan looked to Lucas for guidance.

He licked his lips as he sat down, “Brighton Simpson is an undercover FBI agent, along with Agent Hart.”

“You’re FBI?” Siobhan sank into her seat.

“Yup, and so is Brighton.” Holdon stood up, “We’ve infiltrated this group, we’re still trying to find a few of the players. Right now, we know that that Dr. Carla Harrison is high at the top. Someone higher than her, however, ordered Brighton to be beaten. I tried to get him out before it happened, but obviously I couldn’t.”

“Great, what do we need to do to be able to arrest the guys that beat Brighton?” Siobhan stared at her former partner.

Holden sighed, “Work the case. I don’t know exactly which ones did it. Carla has some big wig of the organization coming into town. I’m hoping to get a face or a name for this person.”

“I hope so too.” Siobhan pushed herself up from her seat, “So what do we have to work together now?”

“Yeah, we do.” Lucas snickered.

Siobhan rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go see if I can put the pieces together, maybe read that statement from that damn delivery boy.”

Lucas and Holdon watched her walk out when Holdon leaned over to Lucas, “Wait the delivery boy, that blond guy?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“She still doesn’t know?”

“Nope. She always pawns the kid off on me.” Lucas shrugged, “I keep waiting for her to go through the notes and catch it, but she hyper fixates on something or someone else every damn time.”

Holdon laughed, “One day she’ll find out and I really, really hope I’m in the room for it.”

“So do I.”

####

Abby sat at the bar of Moonlight. A country song she didn’t recognize was playing as she sipped on her margarita. She didn’t see Pam, Maggie, or Trista. Why did she agree to go out tonight? She could be in bed watching Law & Order reruns.

“Long time no see.” His voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She turned around and looked up into his blue eyes, “Holdon, fancy running into you here.”

He shrugged as he sat down next to her, ordering a microbrew before turning his attention back to her. “I’ve missed you, Abby.”

“Not enough to text me or call.” She took a sip of her drink.

He studied the logo on his pint glass, “Its complicated, you know that.”

She put her hand on his arm, “Then let’s uncomplicate it.”

He placed a hand on her leg, letting it slowly move up towards the edge of her skirt, “Abby, you’re dangerous.”

She licked her lower lip, “Embrace the danger.”

Holdon pulled her stool closer to him, his eyes scanning the room as his hand moved further up. “Abby, you are tempting.”

She leaned close to him, catching that woodsy scent of his bodywash, “I’ve been craving you.”

Holdon closed his eyes, “Come home with me.”

“Anytime you want, Daddy.” She covered his hand with hers as she looked him in the eyes, “You know I’m yours.”

He smiled, he missed this, he needed this. He’d been avoiding her, even though he’d been craving her as well. He leaned as close as he could, “I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.”

Abby smiled, suddenly a Law & Order rerun wasn’t so tempting.

#Soap Opera #divisions #Text Based Soap Opera #season 1 #Abby Adams #Siobhan Lane #Chad Davis #Kip Davis #Holdon Hart

[castle-dominion]

castle 6x8 a murder is forever

the diamond episode liveblog

Teehee I remember seeing the bonus features bloopers "seamus open up your shirt a little more" 'bill i've been waiting for you to say that'

anyway liveblog time

Is this lady real? I remember smth like that, some lady lived with nonhuman primates. Oh this episode! The one where that gif is from! Masculinity! lol alphas.

As a queer tranny, uh, idk what to do except laugh.

Oh no she dead there's someone sitting beside her? still? How long has kyle been callig? how long has she been dead? why is he pulling out the knife NOW?

Nooo beckett beckett vs linus. RC: Keeps you on alert KB: *somehow got over her hypervigilance ptsd rly easily as soon as that plot served its purpose*

Not get rid of him! Just... move him! "we" she is bringing caslt eon the murder lol "yeah of linus's feelings"

In a hail of bullets! My bedroom is my lair XD His identity? rly?

Ooh ryan is so pretty! Ryan's cute lil shrug Me: queer tranny

RC: So they killed her then they killed her car? THAT IS A LOT OF MONEY HOLY they didn't take the money just cuz? Ryan sweater no tie today, uh... idk i just like it. & hair too. I miss his s4 hair. His s1 hair was fun but college student vibes.

Kyle's outfit is NOT good. but I love the tie.

That "no why did you ask" was so sus

"what were they looking for?" yeah that's the question RC: The most intimate details of the world’s elite? People have been killed for less.

My man should have worn a hat or smth to hide his face not just turn away his head.

Not to be racist but the boyfriend looks like the guy from the car. Well, actually now that I think about it, no yeah it was just my racist programming. Don't I feel like an ass? The boyf also looks vaguely similar to the guy in the security photos tho & that's not racism that's just haircut.

wild beast lol. Yet you say she helped people? They could be aggressive ou said.

It wasn't a client, she was lying to u.

Book: Bioessentialism? Me: No???

Nuclear launch codes? from a therapist?

nf1945 she has access to a private jet???

bc the stuff she got in trouble with was smth that would get her in trouble with the cops too.

Ellis! Tory ellis!

Cool name, Manhattan Raptor

Wow ok so they are all vested up? & they drive their car in front of them? What is even going on? Esposito shotgun moments My man destroys evidence Right Now, I like him he's good

Barrett Hawke RC: Barrett Hawke? As in the legendary fixer? He’s been sweeping the dirt of New York’s rich and famous under the rug for over a decade. (off GATES’S look) Not my dirt. I just – heard. (won't clip) This guy is the one we saw there.

"it was a photo of someone else, your colleagues just thought it was her bc they were thinking about her at the time." Hawke: Your colleagues were mistaken. (shrugs) But that was a micro cut shredder, so unfortunately there’s no proof either way. Hawke: My favorite shoeshine guy’s in that building. Hawke: Hm. Can’t really make out his face. Hard to say who that guy is. C’mon, Detective. What do you really have on me, huh? Do you have a single piece of evidence that I was in her office? Or that I was involved in her death? Prints? DNA? Anything? (she’s silent) That’s what I thought. I LOVE him! I love this guy so much!

Oof my arms hurt from carrying heavy glasses in dishwashing racks all day.

That's why there was a subpoena? Or she was not licensed lol

JE: I’ve got to hand it to this Alice chick, bro. Whatever her monkey theory is has her in with the movers and the shakers. KR: She learned from the real gorillas. Seems to be working with the eight hundred ones in the human world. She was like the dog whisperer for CEOs. [He stops to touch some flowers.] JE gives him an incredulous look. JE: You really buy that? KR: Oh, skimmed through her book. I think there might be something to her theory. For instance, she said that in every relationship there needs to be a masculine energy and a feminine energy. Even in ours. JE: Oh. Well, we know which one you are. KR: I don’t know about you, but I am very comfortable in my masculinity. JE: You do realize you’re wearing a sweater vest, right? KR tries to come up with an argument but they’re interrupted by ANDREW SPENCER.

Clipping that lmao. also: haha queer & trans watching this episode

Rat's ass

Man has a nice outfit imo. why would she need a hidden hotel? how long was she staying?

Becks is right, anonymity not money. I legit thought he was finding another dead body lol it's going to be empty OH RIGHT, HOW COULD I FORGET ABOUT THIS?

unless it's glass

KB: We stopped at a jewelers on the way back and he almost had a heart attack.

RC: Given the cash, the hotel, and the private plane I’d say she was making a getaway. Transcript says Gates is the one who calls alice oceans one lol Castle is right, that is a sane theory. bc it's a hella big expensive diamond that's why. bring back demming!!! his short little "ever" the blue butterfly! (this is making me think about glass/silica/quartz & white sapphires & silicon carbide/moissanite & ugh I looooove rocks so much!)

Castle & his stories remember the snake guy back in like s2?

Didn't they already visit a jeweller? love the way he wears his jacket lol So it was smuggled in if this man was copied?

The four Cs! Ryan immediately & quickly: Uh, color, cut, clarity, carat. (smugly, to ESPOSITO) You’d know this if you’d ever bought an engagement ring. Peters: The diamond is colorless. No blemishes and pristine cut. No internal clouding. And uh .. (he places it back on the microscope) … nearly one hundred carats. RYAN’s jaw drops. JE: Man. Hey, how deep would my pockets have to be to afford a rock like that? Peters: Detective, you are not tall enough to have pockets deep enough. JE: *offended* Peters: But I would say it’s worth … $60 million. Conservatively. JE: (chagrined) Yeah, I ain’t that tall.

VG: Six zero, like with another six zeros after that? KR: That would be $60 million, yes.

JE: Nah. Peters said that old school cutters fashioned diamonds with sharp edges. This one has smooth edges, which it means it had to be cut within the last few decades. loooove rocks & rock facts & minerals & gems & giology kslfjlkdjfskldfjsl

RC: For engaged men everywhere I can only hope it wasn’t a ring.

INT - JE+KR’S CAR KR hangs up the phone. KR sighs. JE: So … we thinking the same thing? KR: That it’s a bummer we can’t stop for lunch because there’s a sixty million dollar diamond sitting between us? JE: No. That because of the $60 million dollar diamond sitting between us that we are not-really-but-kinda-sorta thinking about making a run for the border. He smirks. KR glares at him. KR: Hadn’t even crossed my mind. JE’S teasing smirk falls. JE: Of course it didn’t. Nope, you wouldn’t have the stones. All I’m saying.

I went to clip that but ended up clipping way more. The fun little fight scene. Love the "for now" *pushes his partner down when he sees the gun* Love the way they switched places to shoot The diamond! I take WAY too long to think about how a clock is shaped. I CAN read a clock, but I need to think about it whereas ppl SHOULD be able to tell by the positions, the vibes not the math. I couldn't do "subway station seven-o'clock" Covering for each other. We get to see shoes! Esposito's kneel slide thing <3 But like these clowns had HUGE guns, why were they scared off by these little cops with their little guns? btw I need to find that fanfiction again where it went "yeah I don't think it is realistic that ryan had his door slammed into by another car & escaped with nothing more than a cut on the forehead & some wrappings around his ribs" but idk where to find it. Also uh, I am such a lesbian (half man) for Ryan (also a man).

Your neck really would hurt, whiplash huh. But also he def scraped his knees! & what is the point of wrapping up ryan's chest? idk how medical stuff works but I feel like it might not actually help to have tensor bandages wrapped around your chest. But hey maybe some trans!Ryan headcanons! Bill Roe, director: "seamus open up your shirt a little more" SD (KR): 'bill i've been waiting for you to say that'

The rock johnson? it's $60mil, it could SO be abt the diamond. The boys don't even get to take the rest of the day off? I'm surprised gates lets them look into the suv, personal vendetta & all.

Castle is NOT carrying coffee with the way he is swinging around those glasses. RC: So I was thinking. When we work a case together this desk of yours is sort of – kind of – our space. S1 KB: *would probably hit him upside the head or smth* KB: If you don’t like the elephants, I don’t like the elephants. Imagine if he made them go away. You know what's inside them. RC: I actually like those elephants. They obviously have family values and this one’s good with money. Anyway … (NF adlibbed that so I hear)

Primates in africa near the diamond place? I can see that a 60mil gift? Ooh I like how Castle goes back & corrects himself

KB: That … is … surprisingly plausible. Remember when the "extra" covid vaccines were being "donated" to "poor countries" but it was just... corporate greed? But the shape of the gem would be stabbing her...?

Power couple lol

"that's where it is!" "it looks like the one you gave me" How can you tell the difference? Ohhhh it is a costume piece! A detective & maybe also a jeweller.

Not the cops, more likely the insurance company, except the insurance company has no record of the diamond bc if it did the cops probably would have found it

Ooh a penthouse! *leans on esposito* fixer is in a fix!

I love mr hawke. She didn't answer.

They were mugged-- they didn't call the cops they called hawke! Why though? Male mugger, not alice. Her boyf maybe?

Aight we got ryan looking normal again but esposito took off his jacket.

Yay tory ellis!

Remember Ethan Nestor lie detector "the hit was Kind of satisfying"

Fingerprints?

Edward Peters! Lab grown does not mean fake. It is the same process so it is still a mineral, even if the process is synthesized.

Diamonds are already not worth as much as ppl think.

No, gates would NOT let these two go in to do the interview.

Yep, cartels & profit & stuff like that.

Except that the carbon molecules are each different. Other than that yeah exactly the same.

Leo: Alice and I met when I was in Rwanda doing aid work. We were young and in love. And then one day soldiers came into the village, financed by the diamond cartel. We watched from the jungle as they slaughtered everyone. Casualties of a turn war for profit. That day changed me. I dedicated myself to stopping the cartel's bloody practices. It was a life I knew Alice couldn’t be a part of, but I never stopped loving her.

Leo: Two years ago stones started popping up in Europe and the Middle East. Flawless and being sold for millions. That’s when a gemologist friend of mine happened across a pair of them. He discovered that they were exactly the same. Nature doesn’t make exact copies.

Leo: They were man-made Yeah. I tried to trace them back to their source. All I knew was that they were coming out of the States. And then Alice called me, out of the blue. Said one of her clients, Steve Warner, had a secret.

Leo: Yes. Man-made diamonds are nothing new. But no one had ever produced this quality of gem before. Big and flawless. Soon diamond mines would be a relic of the past. Steve Warner’s technology could change everything. So I approached Warner. I begged him to make his technology available, but he denied he even had it. He was just using it to line his own pockets. The world needed to know and we needed proof.

Leo: yes the necklace. We knew that if we could just examine that stone that we could tie it back to the others. That we could show everyone what he was doing and they could all see that it was possible. Then … everyone would eventually unlock the code.

Leo: No more cartels. No more sponsored bloodshed. We were going to change the world. That night Alice had a plane standing by to take us to a private lab. But she never showed.

So alice happened to get these clients & was able to call her old boyfriend yay.

Worthless-ISH bro, you could still use them in sawblades.

Or you know... don't sell big diamonds, but cut them smaller & sell them normally or sell them to sawblade companies.

Hawke said the warrens didn't hire the clown team tho. No it was the wife! No! You had the gun with the safety off? even tho you only wanted to scare her?

She has her gun with her? in the middle of home?

RC: Now I know it doesn’t really go with the space, but at least it won’t be hungrily staring at you in the morning.

RC: No, I did. I did. I finished reading Alice’s book and there’s a chapter in there that speaks to couples like us. See, we’re both alphas. And it says that we need to define our shared territory together. (he gestures around him) These are pieces all over – these are all my stories. But the shells? That’s ours.

Castle playing lion sounds lol

Ok so that was fun. Good ep. I have about an hour until I need to leave. I'll start on the next one.

#castle 6x8 #castle 6x8 quote #the diamond episode #castle 6x8 spoilers

[glapplebloom]

Since it’s been a while since the Polls were done...

Death Battle had a Champion's Poll and the winners were Discord Vs Bill Cipher and the long requested Cole Vs Alex. But there were other matches. And since I am a Champion (it is only $5 a month), I voted for who I wanted to see as well. And I did not vote for those two matches. So which did I vote for and what were my thoughts of the other matches?

Captain America Vs Kamen Rider Ichigo

I do think Captain America does need a return match. His match was an early research and we can do a much better job now. Imagine what sort of feats we could find now with a dedicated researcher on the job. As for Kamen Rider Ichigo, I do not know a lot about Kamen Rider. I know a lot of people enjoy the series and it would be cool to see their favorite series get the Death Battle treatment.

Among Us Vs Fall Guys

The idea is such a fun one that I am still surprised it didn't win. It would have been pretty interesting to figure out the research behind this. Though I don't think we'll be doing this in the future unless one of the two sponsors us or if the polls return and this gets back on and wins.

Kyle Rayner Vs Simon the Digger

I'm a researcher of Green Lantern and Gurren Lagann is an excellent series. I would definitely be the researcher in this match thanks to my previous Lantern work. What shocked me was the fact this didn't win either considering all the support I've seen of this match.

Ori Vs the Knight

I never played either, but the idea looks fun. Two indie platformers of varying styles and ideologies. It would have probably looked really good too.

Finn and Jake Vs Mordecai and Rigby

This is the match I voted for. For me, this is one of the big Cartoon Vs Cartoon fights. Adventure Time and Regular Show are sort of sister series. They have a unique style, wacky adventures and expect you to take things at face value. They even crossed over in comics. So having the two duos fight each other is one a long time coming. I get the feeling regardless of it losing, we'll be seeing this fight sometime in the future.

Kratos Vs Asura

Kratos is another one who could use a comeback. It was a Season 1 fight after all. And since then, he's in a whole new territory dealing with a completely different pantheon and new abilities. Meanwhile Asura is an obscure choice but an excellent one for Death Battle. His game is basically Quicktime City so we can see all sorts of feats thanks to them being more visual than gameplay. This could be a great fight.

Steve Vs Emmet

In case you couldn't tell, I enjoy Lego and other Interlocking Bricks. So I would have been glad to see Emmet enter. And Steve makes a lot of sense since Minecraft has a big history with Lego. If we could get Edbound to make this into an animation for Death Battle I think it would be better than a 3D one.

King Ghidorah Vs Deathwing (WoW)

It makes sense for Godzilla’s greatest rival (depending on who you ask) to be in Death Battle. But I don’t know about World of Warcraft to give a good idea on how this fight could be. But giant lizards fighting each other should be a no brainer.

Illidan (WoW) Vs Xiao (Genshin Impact)

Remember when I said I don’t know much about World of Warcraft? Same for Genshin Impact. All I know is they beat Sonic in the Fan Polls at the Game Awards and apparently a small 1000 year old girl is joked about being spare food in the same way Team Four Star’s Goku treats Icarus in the Cooler movie. But just because I don’t know either doesn’t mean it can’t be a great Death Battle. Look at Sauron and the Lich King.

Spy Vs Agent 47

So both of my votes were the last ones listed. Weird. Anyway, Team Fortress 2 is a great series and I wish it won their only match so far. And I think Spy could do it. Agent 47 is most impressive, but I think Spy could give him a run for his money and even win. But I haven’t played Hitman so this is likely biased. But man, I got to get back into playing TF2.

And those are my thoughts on the poll choices. I could reveal exactly how close my votes got to winning, but I don’t think it’s fair for those who don’t know how their votes are. Not to mention Death Battle didn’t reveal the results for a reason. And who am I to break that reason?

#research bin

[writinghurtsmybrain]

It Begins

So, you might be thinking: “Why the heck are you WRITING a blog then?”  Honestly, I’m not sure either.  However, I think I just want to.

To introduce what my blog may be, if I ever actually remember to post anything again (lol), it will basically just be yet another stream of consciousness from one of today’s ‘troubled youth.’

Btw, content warning for mental health related issues, a lack of a filter, and poorly (un)disguised curse words.

As it is for many of us college zombies, I am currently struggling through the beginning of exams, and am in the midst of pretending I don’t have an exam tomorrow that I am not at all prepared for.

In the spirit of ignoring that exam, I will instead talk about one of the other things weighing on my mind: (one being that every time I use a semicolon or colon I constantly worry whether I am using it correctly, you suck brain) completing makeup assignments.

I’ve struggled with mental health issues for a good long while.  I have all the greatest hits: major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety, and attention deficit and hyperactive disorder.  Oof that’s a lot of big words.  Basically, I’m constantly going ‘ooh, shiny thing (aka this blog)’ while trying to not hate myself and worrying about that I hate myself and that omg I said that so that person definitely hates me and thinks I’m weird now, and I definitely failed that class and I’m going to end up with a horrible job that can’t pay the bills and I’ll have to bother my parents and live off them forever, will I ever be able to function normally, etc etc.

Wow, I’m not sure how that felt to read, probably disorienting and confusing, but for me, with every word I wrote I could feel my chest tightening, feeling as if a vice was squeezing the middle of my chest harder and harder.

I’m sure everyone has had that feeling.  What makes it different from anxiety though, I like to think, is intensity, length, and causes.  With anxiety, you feel fear and uneasiness more intensely, about more things that it doesn’t make much sense to feel anxious about, and the feeling lasts much longer, oftentimes not dissipating even if the ‘problem’ or thing driving it has been resolved or ‘fixed.’

Similarly, depression is different from sadness for the same reasons.  Sure, we’ve all had those times (at least I have) where we burst into tears because our buttmuffin brother had the rest of the almondmilk, and now you can’t eat your cereal and you don’t have time to make any other food before you have to get to school (ah, high school).  Though I guess that may be both depression and anxiety, cause those two lovely things like to do tag-team attacks that pummel you into the (metaphorical) ground.  Anyways, I personally feel that my depression (as it feels different for everyone) can generally be categorized into three (shitty, and often co-occurring) flavors: numbness, futility, and full on omg-theres-a-knife-stabbing-me-make-it-stop.  However, I think that’s a convo for another day (I mean, I gotta give both of us a reason to come back here, right?).

I’m sure this felt like all of my thought processes do.  My dad describes it as ‘a racecar with bicycle brakes’ but I prefer to think it more strongly resembles ‘trying to sprint without ice skates across a field of ice to a certain point indistinguishable from anywhere else that you arbitrarily chose, only to fall on your ass and slide and spin around, arriving somewhere and unable to find where you initially wanted to go, much less where you started’ (see, even my description of my thought process is an example in and of itself).

So thanks for reading, or skimming (I wouldn’t blame you; this is way too long).  I’m going to do my best to (hopefully) get some work done.

Here’s to hoping I make it back here in a day or two, cause I’m sure there must be so many waiting with bated breath for my next post (not lol).

Toodles (omg, as soon as I wrote that, I thought, but more explicitly, ‘who the fudge says toodles.’  Me. I guess I say toodles now.  Welp, at least it fits the overall oddball mishmash of elements this clustercluck of a post was.  Time to try and load as many tags onto this puppy that I can that can be reasonably associated with what I wrote.  Toodles)

#first post #mental health #fuck exams #stream of consciousness #random #ramblings #idek bro #rip me i guess

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[cthaehbutwithafrog]

Where’s the starkid fandom at please and thank you

#my art #the guy who didn't like musicals #fanart #the guy who didn’t like musicals fanart #tgwdlm #emma perkins #ted spankoffski #paul #I can’t remember his last name sorry #bill #wow I can’t remember bills either #I don’t even know if they say it #i love him tho he’s like Adam #Charlotte #my beloved #I love she please #and #mr davidson #he’s okay #starkid #team starkid #hatchetfield #starkid fanart

[tripleaxeldiaz]

nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

read on ao3

Eddie’s fine. Really. He’s got a fresh scar on his right shoulder, a twin to his other one, and a couple more medical bills to pay off, but other than that, everything is good.

Why shouldn’t it be? Things could be worse — he could’ve lost his arm, could’ve been shot in the spine instead, could’ve not survived the trip to the hospital. But he did — he’s healed, he’s still breathing, and he’s ready to get back to work on Monday, to stop staring at the inside of his house and get back to the life he’d finally started to feel settled in. There’s a twinge in his chest every time he thinks about actually being back out in the field, but it’s just nerves, a small worry at getting back into the swing of things. He knows the team and how well they work together, so he’s sure one rope rescue with Buck is all it’ll take to feel normal again.

He’s fine. Or almost fine. Really, he is. He doesn’t let the tremble in his hands or the ice in his gut tell him otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t really register, the first time it happens. There’s a glint of light in his periphery, and for a second, his arms go numb. It’s just a second, though — he sees the flash again, sunlight shining off an axe Ravi is packing onto the truck, and he moves on, doesn’t think about it again.

The next time, the wind whips by his ear a little too fast after a call at the pier, and he turns around so quickly he cracks his neck, the thought of bulletbulletbullet ricocheting in his head. It gets him a concerned look from Bobby and reminds him that he never called that therapist his doctor mentioned at his last visit, but he elects to deal with it later and moves on.

Things keep happening, but they’re all small, insignificant — someone laughing too loudly at dinner, the feel of hot asphalt under his hands as he reaches under the ambulance for a runaway bandage roll, a phantom jolt of pain in his shoulder when someone accidentally jostles him running to the truck.

Tiny things, meaningless, not even worth remembering.

He’ll get used to them, eventually. He’s been healing, isolated from the real world for months now, it’s going to be a bit of a shock to his system and his senses.

He doesn’t call the therapist.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s happy. Genuinely happy, in an open, honest way that Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen. His laughs are still loud but they’re freer, unrestrained, and his smile is bright enough to light whatever room he’s in. It makes something sing in Eddie’s chest, especially when all that wattage gets directed at him. If he’s honest, the music’s been there for a while, it just took lying in his own blood, reaching toward the only thing that felt like safety, for him to finally put a name on the song that’s been playing.

Talk about shitty timing.

Because Buck’s with Taylor now, and as much as he still doesn’t care for her, she’s helping with Buck’s new attitude too. He sees the soft smiles that linger after a text from her, and he only gives himself a minute to wish it were for him instead before reminding himself how much of a miracle those smiles are at all.

If he had watched Buck get shot, been splattered with his blood, been soaked with it as he tried to stop it from leaking out of his chest, he’s not sure he would’ve had any kind of happiness to spare.

So he adds this feeling, this particularly green beast twisting in his chest, to the list of things that he’s just going to have to get used to, and moves on. Buck is still in his and Chris’ life, still at their house more than his own, still the center of both of their worlds, and that’s enough. 

It has to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow, Eddie, you look like shit.”

He glares at Chimney as best he can, but he’s too tired for it to hold any heat. “Good morning to you too, Chim.”

Hen sits next to him at the table where he’s nursing his second mug of coffee of the day, downing the first one before driving Chris to school. She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and he tries not to melt into the touch too much.

“You don’t feel warm,” she says, “but you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

He shrugs, staring down at his coffee. “Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

That may be an understatement. Not sleeping well implies sleeping at all, which Eddie’s not sure he’s been able to do in the past few days. It was easy enough when he first got home, still on pain meds that made his eyelids constantly heavy. And when Chris crawled into his bed the night after his sling came off, quiet but sniffling and burrowing into his side, it was a relief to gather him up close, a hand stroking through his hair as they both drifted off, clinging to each other. It was good for both of them, necessary to remind them both that Eddie is still here, but Chris went to his own room on Monday night instead of Eddie’s, and Eddie refused to take that choice away from him. 

So he’s been alone, in a too dark room with a too big bed and a too loud brain that only shows him flashes of light and blood and fear whenever he does try to close his eyes.

Just another thing he has to get used to.

He sees Chim and Hen exchange a look and hopes to God they don’t press it. He’s beyond frayed, his state of exhaustion warring with his almost constant state of hypervigilance, and he’s not sure if he’d snap or cry or both if they try to ask him any more questions. Either way, that’s not how he wants them or anyone else to see him, especially not at work. At work, he’s Mr. Cool, always level headed, always in the game, always on top of it. Despite the jumpiness, despite the sense of dread that seems to be a permanent fixture under his skin, he’s been able to keep that attitude going, even getting lost in it sometimes, feeling like the Eddie of four months ago again. If that starts to unravel, who knows what other parts of him will fall apart with it?

Luckily, they seem to get the hint, a pat on the back and a squeeze on the shoulder as they leave the loft to restock the ambulance. But even once they’re gone and he’s alone in the quiet of the loft again, Eddie feels exposed. Fragile. Vulnerable. Teetering on the edge of an abyss he can’t afford to fall into. And he hates it, because this isn’t him. He’s the protector, the provider, the guy who’s survived getting shot twice now, and as much as he encourages Chris to be open and emotional, it still feels wrong to him, like something too close to failure. He knows, rationally, that talking about the mess in his head would probably help, but it would also feel like a loss. Like this one-sided war he’s been fighting was all for nothing.

He hears Buck before he sees him, his unmistakable bounding up the stairs echoing through the whole loft. Just that sound, just the knowledge that Buck is about to be in his vicinity, is enough to yank Eddie back from the edge. He’s not settled or calm or better, but he’s not worse. These days, that’s all he can really ask for.

Buck takes Hen’s vacant seat, stealing a sip of coffee and chattering about a traveling art exhibit he thinks they should take Chris to. Eddie feels the vice on his ribs loosen, letting Buck’s voice and enthusiasm wash over him, pushing him back to center. He doesn’t quite make it, not when Buck stops talking mid-sentence, brow furrowed and looking so intensely at Eddie he can probably see right through him

“You look tired,” Buck says. 

Tired isn’t a strong enough word. But he smirks half heartedly instead, willing a little bit of his confidence back to get the subject changed sooner. “And here I thought I looked good today.”

“No, you always—“ Buck clears his throat and shakes his head, “You just look like you could use a nap. Are you okay?”

And for the first time since he woke up in the hospital with a new hole in his body and extra demons in his head, Eddie doesn’t want to say he’s fine. In the face of earnest blue eyes and worry lines, he doesn’t want to lie, and that’s exactly what an I’m fine would be, no matter how much he’s been trying to ignore it. He doesn’t want to downplay and pretend that it’s nothing, because it’s Buck. Buck who has seen him lower than he’s ever let anyone see, who slept on his couch so he was never too far away from him or Chris, who knows when Eddie needs to be pulled or pushed or pressed or none of the above. 

He doesn’t want to just say he’s fine, because he’s not.

The courage to say so finally fills him, just in time for Buck’s phone to light up, Taylor’s name flashing across the screen on two messages. Buck doesn’t even glance at his phone before flipping it face down and pushing it to the side, but it’s too late — Eddie feels his walls going back up, any bravery leaving to make room for the reminder that Buck is in a good place and Eddie will do anything to keep him there. He’ll take another bullet, he’ll keep every emotion under lock and key, he’ll carve his own damn heart out of his chest if he has to. He cannot — will not — be the reason that smile that’s become so natural on Buck’s face dims by even a watt. 

The crease in between Buck’s brow has only gotten deeper the longer Eddie hasn’t answered, so he musters up the most genuine smile he can. “I’m okay, Buck. I promise.” The lie cuts through his throat like broken glass.

Buck squints at him, scooting forward until his knees are digging into Eddie’s thigh. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“Of course,” he says, another lie, more salt in the wounds he’s already given himself. Buck’s quiet for a few long moments, studying Eddie’s face, and Eddie prays that he doesn’t crack, that Buck doesn’t keep pressing. By some miracle, he doesn’t, just rests a hand on Eddie’s knee and squeezes before heading to the pantry for a snack.

The vice is back as soon as he’s out of sight, and Eddie’s list of things he has to learn to live with is starting to feel a little too long.

~~~~~~~~~~

Healing isn’t linear. It’s something he’s heard from every doctor he’s seen, every therapist he’s been assigned to, something he’s experienced first hand, physically and emotionally. So when he wakes up one morning feeling rested, energetic, and normal, he’s wary. He doesn’t want to focus on it, afraid he’ll scare this fragile feeling away, but he also wants to soak in it as much as he can. Wants to remember the easy laughs with the team and the night of board games with Chris and Buck when he’s inevitably surrounded by darkness again tomorrow.

He falls asleep and he doesn’t dream and he wakes up and feels...normal. Again. Same thing the morning after, and the morning after that. For a whole week, he doesn’t wake up with the taste of blood in his mouth or a soreness in his shoulder. He hears birds and sees the sun peaking in and feels something dangerously close to good. The wariness is still there, but every day it gets pushed a little farther back in his mind, making it a little easier to believe that while this feeling might not last, maybe it won’t be as dark when the clouds roll back in.

He’s wrong. 

The restlessness comes back with a vengeance — a thrumming in his blood that won’t let him sleep, that amplifies every sound to sharp snaps that remind him too much of the gunfire he’s been trying to forget, putting him constantly on edge again. There’s a heaviness too, making it hard to breathe, hard to move, even though staying in one place for too long feels like putting a target on his back for the monsters that have made a home in his head.

He tries to keep his cool, tries to keep the facade up, but it’s hard to keep your balance on a frayed tightrope.

Bobby notices the shift right away.

It doesn’t help that even the quiet thump of the oven closing makes Eddie flinch where he’s sitting at the kitchen counter. He had hoped that watching Bobby make breakfast would calm him, remind him of the countless hours he’s spent in Abuela’s kitchen doing the very same thing, but it doesn’t. He’s still jittery, worse than he can remember being, and everything just feels like too much. 

Bobby sets a to-go container down in front of him, and Eddie flinches (and curses himself) again. He looks up, confused, and is met with Bobby’s I’m about to tell you to do something and you are not allowed to say no look. Usually it’s Buck on the receiving end of that one.

He tries for a deflection. “Are we going somewhere, Cap?”

The look stays in place. “We are not. You are. There’s enough in there for you and Chris, take it home and don’t let me see you here for the next 48 hours.”

“There’s still three hours left of shift.”

Bobby pushes the container closer. “Go home, Diaz. Be with your kid. We’ll talk when you get back. And if you won’t talk to me, we’ll find someone you will talk to.”

Normally, he’d fight back. Raise his hackles, insist he doesn’t need any special treatment or intervention. But he feels like his insides have been scooped out and replaced with lead and cement and he’s tired. He barely has enough left in him to keep himself upright.

He slowly picks up the container and gets up to leave. Bobby calls his name as he gets to the top of the stairs.

“We’re here for you,” he says. “You’ve been through too much to be handling this on your own. Just let us know how we can help.”

I would if I could, but I don’t even know where to start. 

He just nods, hopes his face looks some degree of reassuring, and heads to the locker room.

~~~~~~~~~~

The way Chris’ face lights up when he sees Eddie waiting for him in the front office is enough to thaw the ice in his chest for a minute. He can hear the exact octave his mother’s voice would reach if she heard about him pulling Chris out of school for “no good reason”, but he also could not give less of a shit.

He feels a little bit more like a person with Chris in the backseat. That’s a good enough reason for him.

They set up camp in the park near their house, Bobby’s food and extra snacks Eddie picked up spread out between them, and Chris fills Eddie in on all the things he missed while he was working. He tries to focus on everything — Chris’ excitement about his upcoming science fair, the Sour Patch Watermelon sugar stuck to the tip of his nose, the way his hands move with his words. Eddie feels better, more settled, just getting to bask in the sun and in Chris like this, but he still feels heavy, like every move he makes has him fighting against gravity, threatening to pull him into the dirt. 

There’s a crack from the playground in front of them, and Eddie’s blood turns to ice. He’s halfway to standing before he sees it’s just some kids snapping sticks in half to build some kind of log cabin. He lets out a slow breath as he sits back down and wills his heartbeat back to normal.

Chris is staring at him, eyes intense and brow furrowed, very similar to someone else they know.

Shit.

As soon as he’s settled, Chris moves to sit in the criss-cross of his legs. He’s a little too on the lanky side for this anymore, but Eddie’s absolutely not going to complain. Chris twists until he’s looking Eddie in the eye. Eddie does his best not to look away.

Chris rests a hand on his cheek. “It’s okay if you’re feeling bad,” he says. “You can talk to me about it, if you want.”

The crack comes from Eddie’s own heart this time. His kid has been through so much in 10 short years, and it’s only made him wiser than he should be, compassionate and understanding and open, ready to be there for anyone without a second thought. He’s good in every sense of the word, and Eddie’s in awe of the fact that he, somehow, has something to do with that. And the last thing he wants to do is lie to his son, but he just...can’t. Talk about it. Not now. Not yet. Not in a way that will keep Chris this good.

He has no way of articulating all that, so he just wraps his arms around Chris’ middle and squeezes him close.

“I know, buddy. Thank you. I’ll be okay, and we’ll talk soon.”

It’s not a lie, but it’s not everything.

It seems to be enough for Chris, though. He nods and pats Eddie’s face before reaching into his backpack and pulling out a library book. “Well, I’m gonna read to you until you feel better, just like you do for me.”

It’s the first real smile Eddie’s cracked in months. He kisses the top of Chris’ head, settling his chin there as Chris leans back into his chest.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

They sit there for a while longer, Chris reads to him about Percy and Annabeth and Grover, and Eddie, inexplicably, feels a little bit lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s Jeep is parked outside when they get home, and Chris practically breaks down the door to greet him. It looks like he’s gone all out, too — Chinese food on the table, the promise of cookies and cream ice cream in the fridge, and a list of movies that Chris ecstatically agrees with as Buck lists them off. Chris hurries off to change and clean up for dinner, and Eddie moves to start opening plastic lids and cardboard containers. 

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” he says. He leaves out just having you with us is enough.

Buck waves him off. “Anything for you two.”

He could leave it at that, keep up the comfortable silence as they move around the kitchen in tandem, but there’s a nagging memory that he has to ask about or he’ll never stop thinking about it.

“Didn’t you have a date with Taylor tonight?”

Buck tenses ever so slightly, a container of dumplings shifting in his hand. “Cancelled,” he says with a shrug.

Eddie knows there’s more, but Chris comes back before he can ask, and it doesn’t feel like a conversation they can have in front of a 10 year old. So they eat, and fall into the familiar banter between the three of them, and for half an hour, Eddie can be present. He can forget the last six months and the weight still hanging off of him and live in this moment, with the two most important people in his life, and pretend that this is all there is. Just these two and their joy and warmth that wraps around him tight enough to make him feel alive again, if only for a little while.

Two bowls of ice cream and one and a half movies later, Chris is dead to the world. Buck carries him to bed and Eddie tries to ignore the new ache that’s sprung up of the course of the evening, the one that wants and pulls towards Buck like a magnet. The one that almost purrs when Buck settles back on the couch so close they’re touching from ankle to (good) shoulder, contentedness washing over the living room as they find a rerun of The Shawshank Redemption playing on cable. It’s not perfect, there’s still a roiling in his blood that won’t seem to leave him alone, but he feels better than he has in God knows when.

Buck shifts closer to Eddie, eyes glowing in the light of the TV, and Eddie never wants him to leave. “Thanks for coming tonight. I— Chris and I both really needed this, I think.”

“I told you, anything for you two. Always.”

He ignores the way his stomach flips and tries to focus on the movie. He gets about five minutes of peace before another thought comes back, still nagging him, mixing with his anxiety enough to actually force him to say something.

He aims for cool and casual. “So, you and Taylor...everything okay?”

Buck gives him a very long, almost challenging look before turning off the TV. Seems he missed that casual mark. “I should be asking you the same thing.” “Very funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m really worried about you, Eds.”

“This isn’t my first time getting shot, I know how to handle it.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it does, but he can’t bring himself to care, either. He doesn’t have the energy to keep a filter up anymore.

“Eddie, I’m serious.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” he says sharply, and he’s surprised his teeth haven’t fallen out of his head yet with how hard he’s lying through them. He hates that he’s lying to Buck at all, but those smiles he’s gotten used to have been fewer and farther between recently, and he knows it’s his fault. He might feel like his own seams are coming apart, but he’ll be damned if he rips Buck open too, even if it means pushing him away from his mess. “You’ve got a life and a girlfriend to worry about, I’ll figure everything out on my own.” 

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. We broke up.”

Eddie pauses, curses the faint hope that sparks in his chest. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been a little distracted by someone else for the past few months. It didn’t feel fair to her to keep it going.”

He gives him another long look, and Eddie might be a little dense when it comes to things like this, but that look breaks through loud and clear. This is it. This is real. This is everything he’s wanted for the past six months — and probably longer than that — but now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel right. Buck was happy, free, finally settled into his own skin, and it’s all gone now because of Eddie and his stupid, broken everything. He knows he won’t be able to give Buck everything he needs, at least right now, but Buck needs to know that too. “Buck—”

“Nope,” he says with a firm shake of his head. “I know you’re gonna try and blame yourself for this somehow, but…don’t. It was bound to happen anyway. Because you’re right, I do have a life, but it’s you two. You and Chris. That’s all I need it to be. That’s all I want it to be. And I hate that it took so long for me to figure out, that it took you getting shot, but we’re here now.” His eyes shutter a bit as he looks down at his hands. “At least, I hope we are.”

And there it is. So simple, so easy, for Buck to admit this huge thing that Eddie thought he was dancing around on his own. The ease reminds Eddie, through his fog of sadness and anger and every other bleak feeling that’s been controlling him, that that’s what makes them work so well together. Honesty. Being able to show all their ugly, mismatched inside parts to each other and still find the beauty, the ways to help, the ways to hold each other together when they need it the most.

And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever needed to be held together more than he does right now.

“Ask me,” he whispers, the sound seeming to echo around the room.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me if I’m okay.”

Buck shuffles on the couch until they’re facing each other, takes both of Eddie’s hands in his. 

“Eddie,” he says softly, “are you okay?”

The world blurs as the tears he’s been fighting finally break free, but he feels strong. Brave. Like he can do anything now that Buck’s holding his hand.

“No,” he says, a crack in his voice but the conviction behind it still firm. “No, I’m not okay.”

The floodgates open, and he lets everything wash over him, all the things he’s been holding back, forcing away in the hopes that they’d just disappear one day. He’s floating and sinking and lost in the waves of it all, but strong arms wrap around him and pull him close, and there’s relief. Not a lot, not enough, but it’s there, for the first time since he woke up in the hospital. He feels safe here, with Buck wiping away his tears and pressing kisses along his hairline. He honestly forgot what safety felt like, was sure he’d never feel anything like it again. But he knew it that day he was bleeding out on the street, and he knows it now — it feels like Buck’s sweatshirt and smells like his aftershave and sounds like whispers of it’s okay and I’ve got you.

It all subsides, eventually, but Buck still holds him close, presses their foreheads together so there’s nothing else Eddie can focus on. His eyes are piercing, bright like Eddie only usually sees when Buck has a plan that refuses to be derailed.

“Let me help, Eddie,” he says, punctuated with a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “I know you think you can do this yourself, but you don’t have to. I don’t want you to. Let me help you carry it.”

His voice left with the rush of everything, so all Eddie can do is nod before sinking back into Buck, into relief. Even that simple motion, the silent acknowledgement that he’s not alone anymore, is enough to let small seeds of hope sink into him and take root. They’re still weak, still unfamiliar, but they’re here, waiting to grow. 

And Eddie knows, with a certainty that he forgot he was capable of, that Buck will be here to help tend to them, no matter how long it takes for them to blossom.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Eddie wakes up the next morning, he still feels weighed down. There’s still an edge, an unease low in his gut, anxiety still crawling through his veins.

He’s not okay. But he looks over and sees Buck — breathing even, arm thrown over Eddie’s stomach, keeping him close — and the ever-present darkness fades from an angry black to melancholy grey. Not perfect, not even close, but better.

He’s not okay. He hasn’t been for a while. But now, finally, he feels like he will be.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #tim i know you read fanfic you can HAVE this one so we can get a recovery arc #i don't even need credit just DO IT #ficcery

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

[americasass91]

His Kind of Beautiful

Hello lovely people! I don’t even know where to begin here. My ex popped up as a friend I may know on Facebook the other day. Of course it brought up all these memories. (I’ve been with my husband for over a decade so this ex was from way back when.) Anyways, I couldn’t help but think back to when and why we broke up. We worked together (that was a mistake) and I was chatting with one of our coworkers. The guy looked at me and was like ‘I don’t want to get in the middle of anything but your boyfriend said something about you the other day and it bothered me.’ I told him to tell me what he said. ‘He said you weren’t pretty enough to blow him.’ (Fun fact! I had already blown him a few times by this point.) So of course I thought my life was ruined. I mean I was only 17/18. I called him right away and asked him if it was true. The fucker didn’t even deny it! He was like I was just joking around. So I told him since I wasn’t pretty enough to blow him, I wasn’t pretty enough to date him either. That’s the last time I spoke to him.

Anyways! That’s what inspired this little fic. I know we all go through days where we don’t feel pretty or beautiful. But you know what? We are all beautiful no matter what! Please if you ever feel less than that and need to talk, I am here and willing to listen! Nobody should go through life feeling anything less than beautiful.

So I knew I needed to somehow incorporate this into a fic. At first I was going to go with Steve but I took a look at my Masterlist and realized I only had one Andy fic on there. That’s just despicable! So without any further ado, please enjoy this fic with our lovely, handsome floofy haired lawyer daddy!

Rating: Explicit (Like I could write something that doesn’t involve sex with Andrew)

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, fingering, unprotected sex(Remember: Sex is cleaner with a packaged weiner), and just Andy being fluffy

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You honestly didn’t even know why you had agreed to this. You hated first dates in general, let alone a blind date.

But your friend, Jane, assured you this guy was handsome and nice and worth your time to go out with.

So, you pulled a blue dress from your closet that you’d only worn maybe twice in your life and actually did your eye makeup.

After getting fully ready you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. For once you didn’t hate the woman staring back at you. This dress happened to accentuate your curves and the color of your eyeshadow made your eyes pop. You wouldn’t necessarily say you were pretty, but you looked decent.

You slip on your heels and grab your purse and head out of your apartment. As you go to lock your door, the apartment door behind you opens.

“Good evening, neighbor.”

You turn around with a smile on your face and return the greeting to your sinfully handsome neighbor, Andy.

He can’t help but notice how pretty you look. “Where are you going all dressed up?”

You blush and start heading towards the elevator together. “Oh, my friend set me up on a blind date. I’m nervous. Haven’t been on a date in awhile.”

He presses the button for the lobby. “Blind date, huh? Yeah I went on one of those recently. First date since the divorce. It was...interesting.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as you both headed into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. You turn towards him. “Interesting, how?”

“Well, for starters, she was almost an hour late. Then when she showed up, she didn’t even apologize for being late. She just sat down and demanded the waiter bring her a cocktail. By snapping her fingers at him.”

The elevator doors open. You head into the lobby and notice Andy following you. “So I think it’s safe to say you aren’t calling her for a second date?” He opens the door to the outside for you. You smile in thanks and head out into the warm evening air of Boston.

He rolls his eyes as he follows you onto the street and hails down a cab. “Absolutely not.” He gestures for you to take the cab.

You look at him confused. “Don’t you need one?”

He waves you off. “Nah, I’m heading to pick up Jake to take him to dinner. He finally found some time to fit his old man into his ‘busy’ teenager schedule.” He heads towards his Audi you now realize is parked in front of the building right behind your cab.

You scoff at him as you open the cab door. “Old man? Oh, please. You can’t be more than what? 38?”

He opens the door to his own vehicle and smirks at you. “Try 43, sweetheart. Hey! Good luck on your date!” He waves and gets into his car. You return the wave and get into the cab and give the driver the address to the restaurant and try to get your mind off of how good Andy’s ass looked in the jeans he was wearing.

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You arrived at the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. You wanted to get there a little early so you could get a drink from the bar and calm your nerves.

You find a seat away from the other patrons and order a glass of wine. You scan your eyes over the room to see if your date has arrived yet. You weren’t entirely sure what he looked like but you knew he was going to be wearing a red shirt.

The bartender sets your wine in front of you. You hand over a 10 dollar bill and tell him to keep the change. As you sip your wine, you check your phone for the time. 7:02. You’re about ready to text your friend to ask if your date is normally late when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn around and look up at who you assume to be your date for the evening. He was handsome. Not as handsome as Andy, but handsome enough.

He gives you a small smile. “Hi, are you Y/N?”

You nod your head with a smile. “Yes, hi! It’s nice to meet you. You must be Jason?” You then gesture to the seat next to you. “Would you like to have a drink before we get a table?”

He nods once and takes a seat next to you and flags down the bartender to order a scotch.

The bartender sets the drink in front of him. Jason thanks him and pays for his drink.

You can feel the awkwardness start to creep in. And when that happens, you tend to get chatty.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You smile hoping to ease the tension building.

He turns to look you up and down. And not subtly. He shakes his head in disapproval and downs his drink before standing up. “Listen, I’m sorry but I can’t do this. Jane lied to me.”

You can’t help the confused look that crosses your face. “She lied to you? How?”

He gives you another not so subtle once over. “She told me you were beautiful. And no offense, but I just don’t see it.”

You can’t help the jaw drop. Sure you knew you weren’t gorgeous but damn. You’d never had a man be bold enough to actually say it to your face. “So, you’re just gonna leave? Not even give me a chance because I’m not your version of beautiful?”

He scoffs and checks out a girl that walks by the two of you. “What can I say? I’ve got standards that you just don’t meet.”

You feel like you’ve just been punched in the gut. That’s it. You’re fucking done. You reach behind you and grab your wine glass and throw the drink in his face.

You grab your purse and head towards the door. You turn back to face him. “I may not meet your ‘beauty standards’ but at least I’m not an asshole!” With that you flip him off and head outside to hail a cab to head back home.

You manage to make it almost all the way home before the tears start to fall. Sure he was a stranger and his opinion didn’t matter. But it still fucking hurt that he didn’t want you and didn’t even think you were pretty enough to share a meal with. Your self esteem already sucked and this asshole sure as hell didn’t make it any better.

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The blue dress goes in the trash as soon as you step into your apartment. You take off your nice lace bra you had put on. You take your makeup off with a wipe and pull your hair up in a ponytail. You throw on some hello kitty pajama shorts and a t- shirt that’s at least 2 sizes too big for you.

Then you head into your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine from a bottle you keep in the fridge for emergencies. You think this classifies as one.

You grab your phone off the counter and call your favorite Chinese place. You order double what you normally do because nobody wants to sleep with you. Might as well eat whatever the fuck you wanted. God, you can’t believe you shaved your legs for that asshole.

The lady on the phone lets you know it’ll be at least an hour. You give her your card number and thank her before refilling your now empty glass.

As you’re sitting on the couch waiting for your food, you can’t help but replay the events of the evening. Then that takes you into a downward spiral as you think back to all of your exes.

Come to think of it, they’ve all left you for one reason or another. A majority of them cheated with someone way prettier than you. Wow, maybe you were the problem. Clearly you were going for guys out of your league.

Maybe you needed to reevaluate the standards you had. Which quite frankly, wasn’t much. You just wanted them to not be a serial killer.

Perhaps you should just give up on dating. You were perfectly happy alone. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for you.

Before your thoughts could spiral anymore, your doorbell rang. You glance at your phone. Damn that hour flew by.

You grab $10 out of your purse for a tip and open your door. As you’re grabbing the bags and thanking the delivery guy, Andy steps out of the elevator with confusion written all over his face. “Hey, Y/N. Thought you had a date?”

You could almost feel the tears trying to well up again. No, you weren’t going to cry. Especially in front of your handsome neighbor.

“Yeah, it uh, didn’t work out. Shit happens.”

He puts his key in the lock and opens his door then turns to look at you. “Not your type?”

You can’t help the rush of air that leaves your mouth. “Not exactly. I wasn’t his. Apparently Jane, our mutual friend, told him I was beautiful and well. He didn’t agree with her.”

Andy furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side. “What? Was he blind or something?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I just wasn’t up to his standards.”

Andy mumbles something under his breath. “Well, I’m sorry. Some guys can be real assholes.”

You wave him off. “No need to apologize. I get that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

Andy shakes his head. “Still, I’m sorry. That really sucks. And he really said you weren’t beautiful to your face?”

You give him a sad smile and shrug your shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m used to not being wanted. Have a nice night, Andy.”

You turn and head back into your apartment before he has a chance to reply. You don’t need his pity. You just need to drown yourself in the rest of your wine and gorge yourself on the greasy Chinese.

Just as you set the food down on the counter, you hear a knock at your door.

Confused, you head over and open it to find Andy standing there. And he looks kinda pissed.

“What do you mean you’re used to not being wanted?”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips. “It’s not the first time some guy hasn’t wanted me and it won’t be the last.”

Andy shakes his head as he pushes his way inside and shuts the door with his foot. “There’s just something I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “And what’s that?”

He then proceeds to walk closer to you, forcing you backwards until your back touches the wall. He puts his hands on either side of your head and gazes down at you. You’ve never been this close to him before. You can feel his chest move against yours as he breathes. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.God, he smells good.  You realize you’re not breathing and take a deep breath. He smiles down at you and takes his left hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen free from your ponytail.

“That some moron would think that you’re not beautiful. He’s fuckin crazy, Y/N.”

Your breath hitches as his left hand has now grabbed the back of your neck to raise your lips towards his. You close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable kiss. “I guess I’m just not everyone’s kind of beautiful.”

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against yours. “You’re my kind of beautiful.”

WIth that, he presses his lips to yours for a slow but intense kiss. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him all the way up against you. He grunts when his hardening cock comes into contact with your soft belly.

After a few minutes of intense kisses that take your breath away, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours. “Will you let me show you how beautiful I think you are?”

You don’t even need to think about it. “Yes, please.”

He smiles and leans in for one more quick kiss. “Take me to the bedroom, pretty girl.”

You quickly grab his hand and lead him down the hall towards your bedroom, making a quick stop in the kitchen to throw the Chinese food in the fridge.

Once in your room Andy spins you around and presses your back up against his front. He leans forward and starts placing soft kisses against your neck. His left hand rests at your waist while his right hand moves up under your shirt towards your breasts. “Is this okay, pretty girl?” His voice is so low and husky. Your panties didn’t even stand a chance.

You nod. “Yes, please. Touch me, Andy.”

He groans a little and reaches up to cup your right breast in his hand. You hear him let out a growl as he continues to fondle your breast. While his left hand makes its way into your shorts, brushing his finger over your clit. You jolt forward at the sensation, whimpering out in the process.

“You like that, pretty girl? Like my fingers on your little cunt?”

You grab a hold of his wrist and writhe against him as he lowers his fingers towards your entrance. He gathers your slick up before moving his fingers back towards your clit and starts slowly circling it.

“Fuck, Andy. Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You want my fingers inside you, baby?”

You quickly nod. “Please. Need to feel you.”

He lowers his hand back down to your entrance and slowly slides his middle finger against your walls. You arch your back and moan out his name as he starts pumping it slowly.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight. When’s the last time you’ve been touched, pretty girl?”

“Too long. Feels so good. I need more. Please.”

His index finger quickly joins the middle one. He starts pumping them in and out of you quicker, curling them just right so they rub up against your g spot. “Oh, fuck!” You can’t help but yell out at the feeling. It’s been so long since someone’s taken the time to pleasure you, let alone find your g spot. You could feel the coil tightening already. You were embarrassingly close and he hadn’t even really started yet.

“You gonna cum for me already, pretty girl? Do it. Make a mess on my fingers.”

He moves his thumb and starts circling your clit. Your legs start shaking. He presses his thumb down just a little harder and you’re gone. You cum with a shout of Andy’s name into the otherwise empty room.

He continues pumping his fingers in and out but removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. “Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

You lower your head in embarrassment. He spins you around and places his finger under your chin so he can raise your head so you’re looking at him. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. I want to see everything.” He takes his left hand and raises it to his mouth, sucking your essence off of his fingers. He moans into his hand. “You taste so fucking sweet. Knew you would.”

He grabs your face to pull you in for a sweet kiss as he slowly pushes you towards the bed. The back of your knees touch your mattress before he pulls away. He smiles down at you as he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up and off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His gaze then falls to your breasts. He licks his lips hungrily. Before he can get too caught up, he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and pulls them and your panties down and off your legs, helping you step out of them.

He stands back up and pulls you in for another kiss, your hands fall to his chest. You start to unbutton his shirt, revealing his chest to you a little at a time. You pull away to get the last few buttons and push his shirt over his shoulders and are surprised to see his chest and abdomen sprinkled with various tattoos. You never would’ve guessed. You can’t help but let your hand trace over a quote on his collarbone or onto the eagle covering his pec.

“I never would have pegged you for a tattoo guy. These are amazing.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I only have them where they can be covered up by clothes.” He grabs your wrists to stop your tracing. “You can trace all of them some other time, pretty girl. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine at his words. His dirty talk was going to be the death of you.

He moves his hands towards his belt buckle and starts undoing it. You couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble to his hands. You place your hands on top of his and look at his face. “Hey, if you don’t want to do this, that’s ok.”

He looks into your eyes and gives you a shy smile. “No, I want to. God, do I want to. It’s just, I haven’t been with anyone since Laurie and I guess I’m a little nervous.”

You couldn’t help the pull you felt at your heart at his words. He was nervous. Thank god. So were you. This beautiful man wanted to sleep with you, of course you were nervous. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous too. You’re kind of intimidating.”

He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows. “Intimidating? Why is that?”

You remove your hands from his and gesture up and down his body. “Just look at you. You’re breathtaking, Andy. And I’m just me.” Your gaze falls down to your feet, unable to look at him.

He puts his finger under your chin and raises your head so that you’re forced to look at him. “Speak for yourself, pretty girl. You’re the breathtaking one.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

His gaze on you hardens just a little. He grabs your hand and places it over his pants against his erection. “Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me? Nobody but you can make me this hard, pretty girl. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal since I moved in, watching you coming in and out of your apartment in your tight skirts and almost see-through blouses. Making me go fuckin’ crazy.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything or make a move then?” Of course your self doubt was starting to creep in. Maybe this was him just wanting to get his dick wet. You needed to know.

He grabs your hands and brings your knuckles to his mouth, giving them a soft kiss. “Honestly? I thought there was no way in hell an old man like me would have a shot with a sweet thing like you.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your mouth. “Please. You’re only 43.”

He pulls you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. “Yeah, well. Probably too old for you. But after what you said to me, about how you’re used to not being wanted? I stopped caring how old I was. I needed to show you just exactly how much you’re wanted. So, can I still show you, pretty girl?”

You quickly nod your head and help him finish removing his pants, leaving him in just his black briefs. The fabric doing nothing to hide the outline of his hard cock. Jesus. He looked big. Bigger than anything you’ve taken. You couldn’t wait.

You quickly pulled his briefs over his hips and down his legs. His cock sprang free and smacked against his inked abdomen, making him hiss. You grab him at the base and slowly start pumping him, looking at his face for his reaction. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed as he moans out your name at the feeling. His hands are gripping your hips.

You smear his precum that’s gathered at the tip and use that to help jerk him off a little faster. You tighten your grip as you pick up your pace, loving the sounds you're pulling from him. You start to go on your knees when he suddenly pulls you back up. You look at him in confusion. “If I let you continue, this will be over before it even starts. Gonna make me blow my load like an inexperienced teenager.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself but once again furrow your brows as Andy walks to the other side of the bed. He starts looking around in your nightstand. “Do you have any condoms?”

You shake your head. “I did but they expired. If you’re okay with it, I’m on birth control. And I got tested after my last partner and I’m clean.”

He pushes the drawer to the nightstand back in and climbs onto the bed and lays on his back, hand lazily stroking his cock. “I’m more than okay with that. I just had a full work up done. I’m healthy as well.”

You barely acknowledge what he said, unable to remove your eyes from his hand that’s wrapped around his cock. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth and let out a little whimper. Andy chuckles at you. “Well, are you going to just stare at it, pretty girl? Or are you going to hop on my lap and get comfy?”

That gets your attention. You meet his gaze. “You want me on top?”

He nods. “Wanna be able to see all of you, baby girl.” He removes his hand from his cock and pats his thigh. “Come on, pretty girl. Ride me.”

Well that sight just caused a new wave of arousal to pool at your core. You had only been on top once before and it was only for a short time.

You place your knees gently on the bed and crawl the short way to him. You swing your left leg over him so that you're sitting right above where he wants you. You thread your hands through his hair and lean down for a heated kiss. You lick his bottom lip, wanting in. He doesn’t even hesitate to open his mouth to let you in.

He places his left hand on your hip while the other grabs his cock. He pushes your body down so that you’re hovering over it. “Please. Fuck me, pretty girl.”

You keep your lips attached to his as you slowly sink down on him. You get about halfway before you stop and pull away to look at him, trying to slow down your breathing. He brings his right hand up to cup your cheek. “You ok? Do you wanna stop?” The quick shake of your head makes him chuckle. “No, god no. I just need a minute. You’re fucking huge Andy.”

He can’t help the cocky smirk that appears. “Yeah, I know. Just take all the time you need.” He rubs his hand up and down your back to help calm you down. It only takes you a few more seconds before you continue to impale yourself on his impressive dick.

You let out a breath of relief when your hips settle flush against his. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for another kiss. You slowly start rocking your hips against him. He feels fucking incredible. Hitting all the right spots inside of you.

You pull away from the kiss and raise up a little and plant your hands on your headboard for some leverage. The rock of your hips speed up significantly. You move all the way up until his tip is barely inside before you slam yourself back down against him. You’re pulling the most beautiful sounds from his lips. It makes you move that much faster and harder against him.

Andy moves his hands to your breasts and gives them a good squeeze. Then he starts pinching your nipples, eliciting a moan from you. “That’s it, baby girl. Doing so good. You look so gorgeous fuckin’ yourself on my cock. Goddamn. Riding me so well.”

The praise he’s giving you just spurs you on. You raise up even more and place your hands on his chest and pick up your pace just a little more. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly. You’re going to cum and hard.

Andy keeps his left hand on your breast and keeps pinching your nipple. He moves his right hand down until his thumb is pressing against your clit, giving you the friction you needed. “Can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. Cum for me. Make a mess.”

He presses his thumb just a little harder and that’s all it takes. You free fall over the edge of bliss with a scream of Andy’s name, your hips faltering from their rhythm.

You slow down your pace as you come down from your high, collapsing against Andy’s chest. He cradles you in his arms and rubs his hands up and down your back. “Still with me, sweet girl?”

You weakly nod your head and take just a second to catch your breath. It takes you a moment to realize he didn’t finish. You raise your head off his chest to look at him. “Why didn’t you cum?”

He smiles and pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry. Just wanted to watch you fall apart on top of me. And let me just say, it’s one of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen. You look gorgeous when you cum, Y/N. Almost made me lose it. Think you can take some more?”

You nod your head eagerly, already wanting to cum around his cock again. “Then why don’t you be a good girl and turn around and get on your hands and knees for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You quickly pull off of him and turn around to get on your hands and knees. He takes a second to admire the view of your once again dripping pussy before he gets up on his knees behind you. He grabs a hold of your ass and gives it a hard squeeze. “Such a nice ass. I bet it’ll jiggle real nice while I’m fuckin’ you.”

He grabs a hold of the base of his cock and moves it towards your entrance. Before he starts pushing in, he gives your right cheek a hard smack. You drop down onto your elbows and moan into the sheets below you. Fuck. You didn’t know you liked that. He places his right hand on your hip and squeezes.

“Hmm. We’ll have to revisit that later.” And that’s the last thing he says before he slams home. You arch your back and fist the sheets as he sets a hard and fast pace.

And boy was he right. Your ass does jiggle nicely with every snap of his hips against it. He threads his left hand through your hair and gives it a tug. It makes you clench around him. “Fuck, baby girl. Keep squeezing me like that and I’m not going to last long.”

You move your head to the side and peer back at him. You clench around him again and it earns you another groan and smack to your ass. “Want you to cum for me, Andy. Please. Fill me up.”

He stills for just a second and wraps his left arm around your chest and lifts you up until your back is flush against his chest. This time he keeps his thrusts nice and slow. He places a kiss to the side of your neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill that pussy up, huh? To claim you as mine?”

You let a whimper escape your lips and you grip onto his arm that’s holding you against him as he starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. You clench around him again. “I am yours, Andy.”

He quickly moves his right hand down and starts circling your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me cum. Cum with me, please.”

You start pushing back and meeting his thrusts, desperate to get him to his release.

It only takes a few more snaps of his hips and circles against your clit before you're both falling over the edge while moaning out the other's name.

He continues pumping his hips until he’s completely spent and gently moves to lay the both of you onto your sides, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms.

He slowly pulls out of you and turns you around so that you’re facing him. He tucks your now loose hair behind your ear. “Hi, there.”

You chuckle and move up against him and press your face into the crook of his neck. “Hello.” You place a gentle kiss to his pulse point and relax as he wraps his arms around you.

There’s only a few minutes of peaceful silence when:

“So, was that good for you?”

You pull away and look up at him with an incredulous look on your face and smack his shoulder. You both start laughing.

“Of course it was good for me. Did you enjoy yourself, Andrew?”

He pulls you in for another sweet kiss. “Oh, yeah. But you know. Just to be sure. We might need to do it again.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. It only makes you laugh once more.

“You are such a dork. How about we get a shower and then heat up the food you so rudely interrupted me from eating before?”

His jaw drops in mock hurt. “You weren’t complaining when I was making you come around my cock, pretty girl.”

You sit up and stretch your arms over your head. You swing your legs over the side and stand up, wobbling just a little. You hear a chuckle behind you and playfully send a glare his way as you make your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the light and can’t help but look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is a hot mess, having fallen out of it’s ponytail. Your lips were swollen and red from all the kissing. Your nipples looked slightly red from all pinching they had been subjected to. Your skin flushed from the orgasms. And there was what looked like a bruise forming on your hip in the shape of his hand.

And yet. You’ve never felt more beautiful.

You see Andy walking up behind you in the mirror. He smiles at you.

You turn around and return it before throwing your arms around his neck and raising yourself up on your toes to pull him in for a kiss. He gladly wraps his arms around you and reciprocates.

You pull away with a smile still attached to your face. “Not that I mind, pretty girl. But, what was that for?”

You shrug. “Just thank you. For making me feel beautiful.”

He smiles down at you and pulls you in for another quick kiss. You can feel him hardening once again against your hip. “Why don’t we skip the shower for now? I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

And with that he pulls you back into the bedroom where he spends the rest of the night showing you that you’re his kind of beautiful.

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