#Billy in his final girl era by the end of this

[hochsleep]

Chapter 2: First day in the quarry

• Era: Season 1

• Warning: foul language, disturbing thoughts.

• Summary: Daryl brings you to a camp in the quarry and now you have to get to know its inhabitants. Will you and your sister be allowed to stay? Have you finally found a safe place to stay?

• Word count: 6,9k.

• A/N: I will say right off the bat that there is almost no interaction between Daryl and Y/N in the chapter. But aside from the romantic relationship with Mr. Dixon, I also want to spell out the interactions between the reader and the other characters in the series. It's important, after all they're all in the same group and I don't consider all the other characters just set pieces. I love many of them immensely and I want to express my love here. But after these digressions, we'll usually be treated to chapters with a lot of Daryl. For balance.

The first chapter seems quite weak to me and if you made it here after that, you're good! I'm having trouble spelling out the beginning. I haven't really fumbled with the characters yet, especially my own, but the second chapter was easier for me to write and it feels really better. Glad you guys are here!

Yeah, that's pretty much all I wanted to say here for now.

Enjoy reading!

Your first day of your career was stressful to say the least.

You knew this place. One day your best friend got involved with a bunch of local amateur rockers who liked to hide from cops and law problems far away from your hometown. One day these assholes decided to perform at a bar in Atlanta, calling it their first big tour. Needless to say, they ended up not even being allowed in that bar? Their playing was pretty mediocre, they were more attracted to the image of rock stars and their lifestyle than the music. Their lead singer looked like Axl Rose and was a real asshole. Billy Stevenson. Famous for his husky voice, his problems with the local Dunwoody police, and his love of underage girls when he was in his early 20s. You couldn’t help it, your friend Holly was madly in love with this asshole and all your attempts to talk some sense into her were unsuccessful.

So when you and Holly were 16, you first tricked your mom and went on her boyfriend Billy Stevenson’s “tour” with her. You just didn’t want to let her go alone. Holly was naïve enough to get into trouble, and Billy had little interest in the safety of his underage girlfriend. So you volunteered to be her voice of reason on this trip. It wasn’t so bad. Except for a few days on the road in an old pot-smoking van with six sleazy guys who were failed rock stars. At least you finally got out of your little town and could see Atlanta. The big city you were hoping to go to after high school. And your best friend was with you and seemed really happy so you just ignored all the other aspects of the not-so-safe trip.

That group decided to stop at this very quarry for the night before finally reaching Atlanta. That’s how you first got here. It was only seven years ago, and it felt like an eternity. You never thought you’d be in this place again. You didn’t think Lottie would be with you. And you obviously couldn’t, even in your wildest fantasies, imagine under what circumstances you’d end up back in that old quarry. The end of the world. It’s still hard to believe.

But back to the camp that Daryl brought you to. It was hard to get a few words out of him on the way to the quarry, but at least after several attempts he introduced himself. He was probably just tired of your questioning or your annoying voice. He liked Lottie better because she kept quiet while you talked and talked all the way. Anyway, Daryl led you out of the forest and the first thing you came to was a small clearing where the trees had been cut down years ago.

The first thing that catches your eye is a few camping tents with folding chairs and ropes for drying laundry. A woman with two children was sitting near one of these tents, and she was the first to look at you. The woman frowned slightly and whispered to her young son in Spanish to go back into the tent. You wondered how bad you and Lottie looked now if the woman had that reaction. Three days in the woods must have taken its toll. You’d had to sleep on the ground as it was, with nothing to put underneath you. But you always gave your knitted cardigan to Lottie to wrap up in so she wouldn’t freeze at night lying on the cold ground. Even if you were shaking from the cold yourself because Georgia nights feel like they’re polar. Oh, and you fell at least four times while you and Lottie were walking through the woods. From fatigue, dizziness from lack of food, a couple times you tripped. Resulting in bloody knees, elbows and palms. So yes, probably a strange girl covered in mud, blood and her own sweat did not arouse confidence in the camp.

You swept your eyes further and saw an old mobile home, on the roof of which stood an elderly man in a Hawaiian shirt and with a shotgun in his hands. He seemed to be trying to see what was going on down here. Two girls came out of the house. Two blondes, similar in appearance but different in age. They’re probably sisters, or so you’d think.

“Dixon, what’s going on here?” came a man’s voice.

A tall man of strong build wearing a shirt unbuttoned across his chest, showing off dark short hair and a large silver pendant. He looked to be no more than thirty-five. The man had his hands at his sides and was squinting at Daryl. Oh, now you know his last name. Not that you needed the information, but it was still interesting to know.

“Found them in the woods,” Daryl said hoarsely, waving his hand in your and Lottie’s direction while you stood behind his back, “gotta help the kid.”

“Let’s step back and talk, buddy,” the man snorted, as if saying the last word with disdain.

You could see Daryl’s shoulders tense. He nodded to the man and they both walked back toward the forest to discuss the situation. You couldn’t blame him. Today, with the old world dead, and with it the law and perhaps ethical rules controlling human behavior, you shouldn’t have trusted strangers. Especially ones from the woods.

“Are we not allowed to be here?” asked Lottie quietly, wrapping her arm tightly around yours, "are we going to get kicked out?”

For a ten-year-old, she was pretty savvy. Though it didn’t take much intelligence to notice the wary behavior of the people in this camp. You stood there in the middle of the clearing while several pairs of eyes stared at you and your sister tried to hide behind you. You wished you could hide too. It seemed easier with Daryl standing in front of you and covering you.

You saw a boy, looking about the same age as Lottie, walk confidently in your direction. Behind him, a tall, thin woman with long brown hair and a piercing gaze walked at a quicker pace. His mom?

“Carl, stop!” huffed the woman, catching up with the child, but he cared little for her words.

“Hi, I’m Carl Grimes,” the boy with the bright blue eyes smiled sincerely and pulled Lottie’s hand, “what’s your name?”

Lottie looked at his hand and then at you. You smiled slightly and nodded at her, encouraging her. It had been so long since Lottie had seen the other children, it seemed like years rather than a couple of weeks.

“Charlotte L/N,” the girl replied, looking apprehensively at Carl.

“Pleased to meet you,” Carl ventured and put his own arm around her arm to seal the acquaintance.

Lottie opened her eyes fearfully, but relaxed just as quickly, realizing that a boy her age wouldn’t hurt her.

“Carl,” the woman walked over to you and the boy and shook her head annoyedly, looking at him, “you definitely heard what I told you.”

“It’s okay,” you found the courage to answer the woman, “we’re not dangerous. I mean…”

“What’s your name?” the woman shifted her gaze to you. So cold it sent shivers down your spine.

“Y/N,” you replied, looking at her uncertainly.

“Y/N, I think we should all stay away from each other for now until we figure this out,” the woman said, grabbing Carl’s arm and pulling him aside. “For safety’s sake…ours and yours.”

“Lori, you shouldn’t chop off your shoulder,” the older man finally came down from the roof and approached you with a broad smile. “The two young ladies are obviously scared and tired, hardly a danger to anyone.”

“We’ve had enough of the Dixons who came here from the woods too and now we don’t all feel safe,” Lori answered him in a low voice so Carl and the others wouldn’t hear too much extra.

“Lori,” the old man shook his head faintly, looking at the woman, “this conversation is inappropriate right now, don’t you think? Obviously the girls need help, that’s what really matters.”

“Let’s see what Shane has to say to that,” Lori said and with another glance in your direction, dragged Carl by the arm to the side.

The man sighed his head as he watched Lori walk away behind Carl’s arm and quietly clucked his tongue. But then the good-natured smile bloomed back on his face as he looked at you.

“You must be hungry, ladies. Come on, I’ll feed you and we’ll get to know each other without any barbed looks in your direction,” the old man clapped his hands, “and don’t mind Lori, she’s always in a bad mood lately, it’s nothing to do with you.”

At the mention of food, saliva automatically accumulated in your mouth. You could literally feel your stomach digesting itself all these three days. The last thing you ate was a handful of wild raspberries found in the woods. The only safe thing you knew. It was a shame there weren’t many berries, but you weren’t in a position to complain. You’ve never been a believer, but you seem to finally understand why people pray before eating and thank God for sending food. But it was more hunger playing on your emotions, nothing serious.

The elderly man introduced himself as Dale. He nobly hid you and Lottie in his motor home, where no one would look at you both with supposed apprehension. You were truly grateful for that. And you were even more grateful when Dale put a plate full of pasta and meat chowder warmed over a fire in front of you. You didn’t like meat other than chicken, but right now you’d eat anything that had animal protein in it. Lots of wild protein. And damn it, it was the best chowder you’ve ever had in your life. Or at least in the last month. It was warm, rich, salty and peppery, even though you’d forgotten spices existed, and it was really hearty. Even Lottie, who was a very picky eater and would certainly not have eaten such an array of food at any other time, was happily gorging herself on the food Dale had provided. The man watched you with a caring smile as he poured the wild herbs into cups. An impromptu tea you wouldn’t mind having now.

“So, girls, how did you get into these woods?” asked Dale, placing a plastic cup of decoction in front of you. The pleasant, soothing scent of herbs enveloped you, and it was easier to breathe.

“We’re from Dunwoody,” you said, smiling slightly at the old man, “just like everyone else traveling towards Atlanta when we heard there was a safe camp for the uninfected. When we got to the town, it turned out there was no camp," you explained without going into detail.

You didn’t tell him how your mother was eaten in front of you and Lottie. How your stepfather John piled into the house that same day and ordered you to immediately pack all the essentials. How you took a long drive from Dunwoody in his old Ford, and when it stalled, you stole someone’s pickup truck. How you spent several days in the woods, eating the canned food you had collected at home and what you found in abandoned cars on the road. You didn’t tell him how you had to run away from walkers several times and how John cracked one of them open in front of his ten-year-old daughter, after which she was afraid to go near him. How you finally made it to Atlanta, but instead of a camp you found only abandoned military equipment, fire-damaged buildings, and crowds of corpses. How you couldn’t get away from them and John drew them off so you and Lottie could escape. You didn’t tell how the man who raised you from the age of ten and replaced your own father was torn apart by reanimated corpses, spewing out his insides as he screamed exhaustedly before life left him. How loudly Lottie screamed “Daddy!” and sobbed, and you had to literally carry her on your back to escape the walkers. How you ran off into the woods again, where you finally broke away from the mob of rotten ones. You didn’t tell how Lottie had been silent for the last two days, not realizing that she had lost both her parents so quickly. How the two of you wandered through the forest and survived only on wild berries and rare streams of water. You could only hope the water wasn’t poisoned with walker DNA. You didn’t tell him how you were found by four of those horrible creatures and chased after you. How Lottie was grabbed and almost bit. And how you gave up and for a moment thought it was best for both of you, you didn’t tell him either. The memories were still fresh and the realization of your weakness had not yet reached you. And there was a lot you hadn’t told Dale.

But he probably knew from the sad look in your eyes that you didn’t need to ask. Not now. And in front of Lottie, who was trying hard not to think about what had happened.

“Are you going to kick us out?” finally dispelled the silence, Lottie looking at Dale with her innocent childish gaze in which hope flickered.

“Kick you out? What makes you think that, little lady?” the old man raised his eyebrows, looking at the girl.

He and probably Carl were the only ones who already saw you as part of the group. Maybe also Daryl, since he brought you here, but you weren’t sure.

“That woman, the boy’s mom…Carl’s mom, she doesn’t want us here…and neither does that big tall man,” Lottie pressed her lips together. A habit you both shared when nervous or doubtful.

“Well you may have scared them, we’re all scared right now, but that doesn’t mean they want to kick you out,” Dale shook his head, “we all came to this camp hoping to find a safe place and we found one. Everyone arrived gradually and we were all new here, but no one kicked anyone out. Daryl, the one who brought you here, and his brother Merle, who I suggest you stay away from, were the last newcomers to this group, they too came from the forest a couple weeks ago and people just…got used to new people in the camp. Time goes very fast now, two weeks feels like two months ago,” the old man sighed, “and yet. No one’s kicked anyone out of this camp yet. If you want a safe place and a nice, well almost, company of other living people, you’ve found it and are now part of the group until you decide to leave. That’s the way it Is.”

Lottie smiled at Dale’s words. She didn’t want to leave. New people scared her, but she couldn’t help but be glad to be alive. Especially after seeing nothing but dead people for the last couple weeks. And she liked that there were more kids at camp. Carl and those kids whose mom had hastily hidden them in the tent. Maybe they could be friends. And maybe you wouldn’t have to give your food and clothes to Lottie anymore. She’d like that. She also liked Dale. He was kind and caring. He reminded Lottie of your grandfather from Oregon, the one you both went to see the summer before school. This place really could be a new home and Lottie really hoped it would be.

“Thanks for the food, Dale, it’s really good,” you said smiling and occasionally glancing at your sister’s satisfied face.

“Yes, thank you!” nodded the girl confidently, remembering to thank the old man.

“It’s all Carol,” the man brushed it off, but then apparently remembered that you have no idea who Carol is, “I’ll be sure to introduce you to her and the others. But you’d better get cleaned up first.”

Oh, right.

You still looked no better than a walker. Still covered in blood, sweat, and mud. You used to feel awful after a long day of work on particularly hot days in Georgia, when you sweated all over and literally felt like the dirtiest person on the planet. All you wanted to do was go home and give yourself a good scrubbing with a washcloth. But a light layer of sweat was a drop in the bucket compared to how truly dirty you were now. Not to mention the fact that you’d forgotten about shampoo for two weeks at least, and now if you ran your greasy hair over a frying pan, you could fry an egg without oil and it wouldn’t even burn. It was only now that you didn’t have to run and survive in the woods, where walkers could find you at any moment, that you thought about how you looked. You felt like wiping yourself with an iron sponge like the one your mom used to scrub the burned-on food off the dishes. Or scrub yourself with sandpaper. And burn those clothes you’ve been wearing for so long. There’s no saving it, you’re sure of that. But the problem is, you and Lottie left your backpacks in Atlanta. You had literally nothing with you. Wearing those filthy, tattered rags after you’ve washed up…It's rather not wash up at all.

“I don’t have a change of clothes and…” you looked awkwardly at Dale, “all our stuff was left in Atlanta when we ran away from there.”

“Oh, right,” nodded the old man, “you came light,” he reflected.

There are enough people in the camp. And they should have enough clothes, too. But you weren’t even sure if you and Lottie were staying here. You didn’t know for sure until now. Asking for clean clothes from these people would have been supercilious and you didn’t want to deal with it.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” Dale said with a smile before leaving you and Lottie in his motorhome.

You didn’t even have time to object. He wouldn’t have let you.

“He’s cute,” Lottie grinned at you after a few seconds of silence, and you only grinned back at her.

Dale didn’t keep you waiting long as promised. He came back to the house accompanied by a young girl. One of those blondes you saw earlier. The younger one. The girl seemed your age. Maybe a couple years apart. She smiled charmingly and looked like a doll with her soft blond hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. The girl held a stack of clothes in her hands.

Oh shit.

You wouldn’t want that. I mean, sure you wanted to wash up and put on clean clothes, but you didn’t want to feel indebted and steal from these people. You already felt like you owed Daryl for saving your life and Dale for the food and the warm welcome.

“Hi, we haven’t had a chance to meet yet,” the girl said in a voice as sweet as sugar syrup, “I’m Amy.”

“Y/N,” you nodded, lifting the corners of your lips slightly, “this is my sister Charlotte,” you nodded at the little girl next to you.

“That’s my full name, but I don’t like it when the full form is used, I’d rather just Lottie,” the girl explained.

“Nice to meet you,” Amy smiled even wider and for a moment you thought her rosy cheeks were going to burst, “I brought you both some clothes.”

Amy held out a stack of clothes to you and you took them into your hands. There were bigger clothes on the bottom, probably for you, and some smaller ones for Lottie on top.

“Thank you so much, I don’t know how I can repay you to be honest…” you pressed your lips together awkwardly, looking at Amy.

“Don’t need anything, it’s all right,” waved the girl away, “we’re here to help each other. It’s my stuff, I don’t know if it’ll fit, but if it doesn't we’ll look for something else. Maybe my sister has some or…well we have a lot of women in the camp,” she explained hastily, “and for Lottie, Sophia’s stuff. It’s Carol’s daughter and…”

“All right, honey, thanks,” Dale interrupted her, noticing that with excitement Amy was starting to gibber and explain too much.

“Yeah…anyway, if something doesn’t fit at all, we’ll look for more,” Amy nodded, exhaling.

“That’s fine, and thanks again,” you nodded at her.

“Thank you,” repeated Lottie after you.

“No problem, I’ll see you later,” Amy smiled once more and walked out the door.

“Okay, I have a shower room there a little farther closer to the bedroom. It’s not much of a dream, but it’s washable. The water is also scarce and it’s mostly cold, so I suggest you do all your business quickly because it’ll take a long time to rub down not lake water,” Dale began, walking past you further to show you everything, “Soap and shampoo are on the shelf next to the shower. And I’ll give you a towel. When you’re done, go outside. We’ll get to know the others.”

Dale gave you both a towel each and left you and Lottie alone in his motorhome, assuring you that no one would come in here and you could relax.

You sent Lott to wash first and hoped you’d have some water left over. But now you’d dive into the lake to wash yourself, frankly.

Lottie came out a few minutes later. Her long hair was wet and slightly disheveled from the water, but she looked fresh and clean for the first time in a long time. Lottie was dressed in knee-length blue leggings with a star pattern and a white T-shirt with a cartoon bear on it. Clothes were a little big for her because the Sophia you didn’t know yet was probably older than your sister. Or at least taller. But Lottie didn’t complain. Especially when she saw that she’d been allocated ballet flats with a strap around her ankle. Not very practical footwear now, but better than one miserable rubber boot. You hoped you wouldn’t have to run around anymore and Lottie’s shoes wouldn’t be something to worry about in that case. Especially as she seemed to like it very much herself. She loved shoes and ballet flats before all this. Fuck you could see sneakers on her feet, it was a rarity.

You walked into the tiny shower room, which somehow also contained a toilet and sink. The shower was disastrously small and you were left to guess how to turn around so as not to bruise yourself on the toilet and sink. You pulled off all your dirty clothes and shoved them with your foot closer to the door so they wouldn’t get in the way. Your gaze fell on your reflection in the small mirror above the sink. The crumpled, tired, and lost girl who had once smiled so brightly looked back at you. It was the worst version of you. And not even because of the blood and dirt on your face. Not because of the purple bruise on your collarbone and a few scratches on your neck. Not because of the greasy hair that clumped on your shoulders. It was because of that faded look in your eyes. The one you’d never seen in your life, not even in your worst moments. The funny thing was that now all those situations and your worries about them were nothing compared to your current problems.

You didn’t want to see it anymore. You stood under the shower head and turned on the water. Cold jets ran through your hair, dripping onto your skin and causing a tabor of goosebumps to follow. But damn it now, that cold water felt like the embrace of a god you didn’t believe in, but now you were ready to believe in. You could only dream of a hot shower now, but the temperature of the water no longer mattered as long as the dirt and blood was washed away with the streams of water and left under your feet. You turned off the water to lather your hair with a man’s shampoo for lack of more. It smelled divine anyway. Everything smelled divine now after the smell of sweat, blood, and rotting corpses in your nose. The only thing your nose has been picking up lately. So the smell of pine branches and mint almost made you have an orgasm. Especially when you felt the foam between your fingers, lathering up your dirty hair. The next step was the mendal smelling soap you used to lather your body with. The sharp pain recognized your scratches on your sides and legs, but that was a good thing as they were getting clean. You had nothing to treat them with back then in the forest and could only hope you didn’t get an Infection or die of blood poisoning. That would be ridiculous and a shame in today’s world. As your slippery soapy fingers slid over your body you felt as if angels had come down from heaven to bathe you. It was very good. Very good. And it felt even better to wash the soap off yourself along with the rest of the dirt and blood. There was barely enough water, you used the rest and hoped no one else would shower today. At least you justified to yourself that you really needed it more.

You wiped yourself with a clean towel and exhaled with relief. Now you could get dressed. You made a mental note to thank Amy again, because she had been kind enough to share even fresh underwear with you. Today couldn’t have gotten any better after that. Even if the cute polka-dot cotton briefs were a little small for you. You didn’t even want to think about the condition of your own after a week of wearing them. It’s horrible, you should just burn them. Amy also brought you a bra, which was also incredibly cute, but you hadn’t used that part of your clothes since you were a teenager after your cousin Martha scared you with the story about bra pips causing cancer and terrible breast pain. You remembered that to this day. But even without those stories, you were uncomfortable in bras, and they pressed and chafed your skin every now and then. You gave them up a long time ago. There were the occasional snide comments from male customers at the store where you worked and the stares of middle-aged women, but your comfort was more important to you. So you put your bra aside and began to dress next. Next were light-colored jeans that were supposed to be loose, but looked like skinnies on you because you were fuller and taller than Amy. But the main thing was that they weren’t close to bursting at the seams if you sat down in them and that was enough. You even liked the way they fit around your soft, rounded hips. The last one was a soft pink short-sleeve button-down shirt. It fit you well without being too tight, unlike the jeans. Anyway, you threw on a thin gray sweater with cute buttons and bows embroidered on them. It was a far cry from your lazy, near boho style, but you didn’t complain. Amy had also brought you some sneakers, but you preferred your shabby yellow converse shoes, which were still alive. And you hoped to save your colorful knitted cardigan that your mother had carefully knitted for you for Christmas two years ago. It’s the only thing you have left of hers. The cardigan and Lottie.

You came out of the shower room and sat across from Lottie at the table. She looked at you anxiously. You knew what was wrong. She was scared. And so were you.

“We can escape through the roof hatch,” you whispered to your sister as if someone could hear you.

“No, we won’t do that,” Lottie shook her head and stood up from the table to say confidently, “let’s go.”

You and Charlotte walked out of Dale’s motorhome just as a young Asian-looking guy you didn't know was about to knock on the door.

“Oh, I…” he looked at you fearfully, “I thought Dale was in there.”

"He’s not there,” you shook your head.

“Yeah, I already figured that out,” the guy scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I’m Glenn by the way,” and then extended his hand to you.

“Y/N,” you replied, squeezing his hand lightly.

“And you…?” Glenn looked at the girl next to you.

“Lottie,” she smiled. Glenn was about to reply when Dale appeared behind him.

"Oh, you girls are done now,” the old man clapped his hands, “have you met Glenn yet? He’s a good guy,” Dale clapped the younger guy on the shoulder in a friendly way.

"Come on,” Glenn lowered his head in embarrassment and you noted to yourself that he seemed really quite shy.

"Well, we need to find Shane and introduce you to the others, follow me,” Dale waved his hand, urging the three of you to follow him.

There’s nothing more for you to do. You took Lottie’s hand and followed the man. Glenn walked beside you, awkwardly tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The whole situation was embarrassing for you, too. Eventually you talked Daryl into bringing you to camp. You had hoped to just ask for food and lodging for one night, not expecting anything more. But now it’s people have lent you clothes and seem to actually let you stay here and live with them. This is something you could never have dreamed of. Unprecedented generosity.

“Shane we have an unspoken leader,” Glenn said as you walked, “well I mean we’re kind of his group, but there are other people in the camp who just knew about this place and stopped here on their own. Shane decided to organize all of us and he seems to know better than the rest of us how to handle difficult situations, so we just figured he could…I don’t know, be in charge? I mean, he’s really being listened to.”

“So he decides who can stay here?” you asked.

"We all decide together, Shane just makes the final determinations in matters like this, but since the camp is large and not everyone is, shall we say, part of our group, you could take a spot a little farther away and live on your own,” Glenn shrugged, “but that’s not necessary, no one minds if you’re actually with us.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you almost whispered, remembering the look in Lori’s eyes.

Dale led you to a campfire where people were beginning to gather. The sky was darkens rapidly and the air, warmed by the day, was cooling surprisingly quickly. Everyone wanted to take a seat close to the warm, cozy fire. You felt a thrill of excitement at how many eyes were directed at you at that moment. Lori and Carl, who you already knew. But now there was no coldness and distrust in the woman’s gaze that she had greeted you with earlier. And Carl was smiling, waving his hand to Lottie as if they were already friends. Next you saw Amy next to an other woman, her sister. The younger sister smiled at you, and the older one nodded her head in greeting. Next to them sat a middle-aged woman, unfamiliar to you until now, with short gray hair. She had her arm around the shoulders of a blonde girl who looked a little older than your sister. You suggested that perhaps she was the same Sophia who had lent her things to Lottie. Sitting next to them was a full man who looked at you in disgust. Actually, it wasn't just you, he looked like that at everyone if you watched him. He was definitely not someone you wanted to meet. The next person you saw was a chubby dark-haired guy who was holding a guitar and seemed to be playing something, but stopped when he saw you and Lottie. Next to him sat an older dark-skinned woman who smiled politely at you. And finally Shane. The same man who dragged Daryl into the woods to ‘chat’ when he brought you here. You recognized him from the confident pose he stood in, towering over these people.

Speaking of Daryl. You didn’t see him among these people. But when you looked to the side, you saw a familiar figure with a crossbow over his shoulder. Daryl was walking away, obviously not even thinking about joining the group around the fire. You watched as he separated and didn’t look in your direction, though you were obviously staring. But you were standing far enough away that he really didn’t notice your stare.

“Y/N, right?” you hear a male voice say and turn around to Shane.

“Yes,” you nodded, pursing your lips. “And little…?” Shane shifted his gaze to your sister and smiled at her.

“Charlotte,” the girl replied, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Y/N and Charlotte, I remembered,” the man grinned and nodded, “well, my name is Shane. I know we didn’t start this acquaintance on the most pleasant note, but I think we should all try again.”

“Does that mean we can stay here?” asked Lottie quietly, looking uncertainly at the big man.

“Sure,” he nodded his head, “yes, you can stay.”

Okay, maybe it was easier than you thought.

With a relieved exhale you were finally able to allow yourself to relax at least a little. Dale sat you both closer to the fire between him and Glenn, and you began to get to know the people around you. The blonde next to Amy was Andrea and you weren’t wrong to think they were sisters. T-Dog and Jacqui were introduced next. Lottie thought the guy’s name was funny. Carol then gave you a friendly smile and introduced her daughter Sophia. You guessed it here too. Oh, and her husband Ed, who wasn’t even paying attention to what was going on. Dale nodded toward where two adults and several children were sitting around a smaller fire. The old man introduced them as the Martinez family, and you recognized the woman as the one who had rushed to hide her children from you in the tent a couple of hours ago. She seemed friendlier now. Like everyone in this place. Oh, a little later a middle-aged man joined you and called himself Jim. He wasn’t too talkative, but he seemed to get along well with Dale, because pretty soon the two of them were discussing the old man’s motorhome and how to fix the insides of that old car.

The atmosphere became even more pleasant after everyone had eaten. You and Lottie refused to eat because Dale had already fed you a while ago. You were full, but the main reason was your shyness and unwillingness to eat all of these people's food. They had already given you too much in one day. After a while Carl dragged Sofia and Lottie away to play near the fire. The children were tired of listening to the boring adult conversations and no one dared blame them. You watched with a soft smile as your little sister was a little embarrassed but still interacting with the other children. She missed it. And you missed seeing her happy for so long.

“Hi,” you felt someone sit down on the log next to you. Lori.

“Hi,” you turned in her direction and only now noticed that most of the group had started to disperse to their tents.

"Listen, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted this afternoon,” the woman clasped her hands together, looking in front of her, “the day was difficult and…”

"It’s okay, I understand,” you nodded, “times are like this, it’s dangerous to trust strangers from the woods so easily. I mean it’s always been unsafe, but things have definitely escalated now.”

“That’s for sure,” Lori grinned and nodded, “but I’m still sorry, Y/N.”

“Forget it, I’m not offended, really,” you smiled at her.

“Okay,” nodded Lori in response.

Lori was silent for a few moments before she spoke again.

“It’s good you’re here, I can’t imagine how hard it is to survive out there in the woods alone,” she sighed.

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy…” you nodded, “but Daryl saved us and I talked him into bringing us here for real.”

“It’s worth being careful with the Dixons,” Lori said, “Daryl and his brother Merle…they’re not easy to get along with.”

Merle? You’re hearing again that it’s best not to go near him. You didn’t know him, but you chose to trust everyone’s prejudices. Lori’s the second person to tell you to stay away from another Dixon. But if he resembled Daryl even a little bit, you could tell that he would indeed be difficult to get along with. But that’s if you wanted to, because so far, you haven’t.

“You don’t seem to like them both,” you said, throwing the twig into the fire without looking at Lori.

“With their arrival many no longer feel safe really,” the woman exhaled and looked at you, “Daryl at least hunts and contributes to this group, but his brother…don’t be alone with him, stay close to the others.”

“Okay, you’re scaring me a little,” you grinned a little wrongly.

“Sorry, just trying to give you a heads up that’s all,” Lori only shrugged.

"Okay, I’ll…keep in mind what you said,” you nodded. “That would be nice,” a soft smile appeared on her face. And you smiled back.

You sat silent in a cozy silence and looked at the fire. All around you could hear children’s laughter, the conversations of people you’d barely gotten to know, the tracks of a campfire and the murmuring of crickets in the grass. And at that very moment it seemed to you that life hadn’t changed at all. The dead don’t walk the earth and don’t eat the living. You hadn’t lost your parents and friends. And the thought of letting the walkers eat you and your little sister out of your own powerlessness hadn’t bothered you for the last week. It’s like everything’s back to normal.

Like you were living again.

Glenn was kind enough to give you and Lottie his tent. He promised he’d find you two your own when he went out on the highway again, but for now he’d moved into Dale’s motorhome.

You and Lottie wrapped yourselves in sleeping bags, which didn’t really keep you very warm on this cold Georgia night, but it was a lot better than sleeping on the grass in the woods with bugs getting into your hair and you could barely sleep, torturing yourself with the thought that walkers would appear at any moment. You finally felt safe. In that old camping tent in your sleeping bag, cradling your little sister in your arms to make you both feel warmer.

“I like it here,” whispered Lottie.

“We’re lucky to have come across such good people,” you said.

“I thought there were no survivors left, it’s been so long since we’ve seen them.”

“I’m sure this group is far from the only survivors.”

“I wish daddy had gotten to this place with us,” said Lottie faintly, pressing her thin lips together.

“I know, honey,” you closed your eyes, feeling the burning in them, “I wish he was here too.”

“Do you think he’s looking out for us? Grandmother always said the dead watch over us from the sky,” the girl asked with hope in her voice.

And who are you to dash her hopes? Even if you didn’t really believe in it. The dead walk the earth, not watch over the living from above. That’s the way it is. But Lottie doesn’t need to think about that.

“I hope he is,” you whispered, “he’s certainly happy for us. We survived and found a safe place with good people.”

“Yes, he’s happy for us,” agreed Lottie, “him and mommy.”

Lottie was silent for a while and you thought she had fallen asleep. You could still hear the crickets outside the tent.

“I don’t want you to go, Y/N,” Lottie said quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied with complete confidence.

“I don’t want you looking out for me from upstairs,” the girl said barely audibly.

You frowned. If only Charlotte knew what you’ve been thinking about lately. If only she could pay attention to how you almost gave up back then in the woods when the walkers caught you. What would she think? Would she trust you like she did before? You were scared. Scared that she’d find out. Scared that in a stressful situation you’d give up again and there wouldn’t be Daryl or someone else around to save Lottie instead of you. Scared that she might actually die. Scared that you might die, too. You didn’t really want that. You just didn’t know how else to handle the situation. You just let your weakness get the best of you and it almost killed you and your sister. And you didn’t want that to happen again.

“That won’t happen, I promise,” you whispered, “you and I will be together until the end, and I definitely won’t die before you."

"I love you, Y/N,” Lottie said a little louder.

“I love you too, sweetie,” you kissed the top of her head, “now go to sleep,” and pulled her tighter against you.

Toward morning, the sound of crickets and Lottie’s soft sniffling put you to sleep. And that sleep was so sweet.

[gg-pedro]

can you hear the music (ch. 6) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano, and you find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 5: joel loves you, and you let him. you could live a million more days like this.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, protective!joel, implied age gap, unprotected piv, ellie plays the piano, sweet smut, fingering, joel needs taking care of, bittersweet fluff, but almost entirely fluff, happy ending :)

words: 5.5k

a/n: grand finale! i hope i delivered for all of you. thank you endlessly, and from the bottom of my heart, for reading and supporting my stuff and this series. its been so incredibly fun and fulfilling. enjoy this!!

-

Life was sweet. Life was good. 

You blinked and spring had become summer. The fields grew unruly with wild grass and baby’s breath, the sun shined longer. Clouds lingered, but they didn’t stay. Days were hot and saccharine. 

You heard music everywhere. In the swallows outside your window at dawn, the rustle in the pear trees when the wind blew, in Joel’s voice when he hummed you to sleep. In the creaks in the floorboards that you had memorized as his footsteps, the hymns and nursery rhymes that kids sang, and in your old upright piano that was slowly losing falling out of tune.

It had been quiet for so long, but now it was loud– deafening at times. Impossible not to notice.

The best music of all, perhaps, was the songs Ellie was learning for the informal recital that you’d suggested she put on. And even sweeter than that was the way she’d changed since you first met. She no longer reminded you of a scared little girl, always choosing the fight over the flight. She was strong and bubbly and hilarious, and watching her find a reason to be proud of herself was even more rewarding than watching her become a talented musician.

The song selection was completely inappropriate, but it was perfect anyway: Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl (for her Joel, of course), the Jurassic Park theme, and finally, Ain’t Too Proud To Beg by the Temptations. 

The two of you were conspiring against Joel for weeks now, planning the surprise for him and practicing whenever you got the chance. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that he and Ellie were hiding something from you, too. Ellie was far too giddy when she saw the two of you together. She lingered a little too long after dinner, or when you were sleeping over, or when you’d planned a day to spend together.

If Ellie had one fault, it was that she was awful at keeping secrets.

After inviting you out on a horse ride through the outskirts of the perimeters of Jackson, Joel took a detour. He went northward, through the green woods and out into a clearing, and you were soon back at the white farmhouse. 

It looked the same, aside from a little more wear on the outside from this year’s harsh winter and wet spring. The roof was still caving in and the doorway was still open. The ivy was thriving, twisting up towards the peak where the sun had worn away at the crisp white paint.

“You wanna see the inside?” Joel asked, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Is it safe?”

“I’m here, ain’t I?”

He helped you slide off the back of the mare, your hand slid instinctively into his as you walked up to the wrap around porch. Inside, the interior was fitted with dark hardwood and floral wallpaper that had started to fade and peel. In the front sitting room, the sun had bleached the upholstered arm chairs and faded the photos on the wall. Still, it was beautifully preserved, clear that this place was home to a lifetime of memories.

The breeze blowing in through the front door was warm as Joel took both of your hands into his. He was slightly tanned now, and patches of his salt and pepper hair looked more caramel. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when you looked at him– he was gorgeous, and you loved him, and he was yours.

“I know I can’t give you this,” he started quietly. “I wish I could, baby. I would if I could.”

“I’d never ask you for this, Joel,” you countered.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re sweet and you never ask for things, not even if you wanted to.” He brought up a hand to brush your hair behind your ears. He always said he liked it when it was out of the way, because he liked seeing your face. “I’m wanna ask you for somethin’, though”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I want you to move in. With us. Me and Ellie. Before you–”

“Joel–”

“–she really looks up to you, you’re good for her. It’d mean somethin’ to her, and to me. I know, I know, I’ve asked you a hundred times, but I’m askin’ for real this time,” he said, cutting you off once and for all.

“It wasn’t real all those other times?” You looked at him with a smile. “What would we be then, if we lived together? What would you call me?”

His partner. His wife? Just his, maybe. 

You looked away from him for a moment, watching the sunlight as it poured through the windows and highlighted everything in orange. The shelves propped up against the walls were lined with books and picture frames and knicknacks. There was still a throw blanket draped over the couch. People had built a life here, and were likely forced to abandon it all. 

When you looked back, Joel was reaching into his pocket to pull out something that was small and caught in the light. It was thin and shiny gold, a ring with three symmetric diamonds set into the band. He took your hand, dirt under your clipped fingernails and all, and slid it onto your ring finger. 

“I’m not askin’ you to marry me. We can call it that, if that means anythin’ to you. I just want to give you somethin’ nice. A nice life where I can keep you safe. We can paint the house, fix it up inside a little. Give you somethin’ like this. I’ll call you anything you want.”

You laughed at the way Joel was dancing around his words, and the way that he continuously fidgeted with the ring on your finger. Always avoiding strings, giving you a way out before you even had the chance to get a word in. You wished you had found a way in all this time to make him understand your commitment to him, without a ring or a pretty house or any of it. 

You just rested your hands on his shoulders and kissed him. His hands found the small of your waist and you melted into each other with a familiar rhythm. Light was striking your eyes as you pulled back, and you nodded.

A life. A nice one. Yes. A thousand times yes. 

“A ring and all, hm?” you replied quietly, still wrapped up in him. “Yes. That’s my answer this time.”

He kissed your cheek, and you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “Okay. Okay, good. I love you.”

You leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around you from the side. “I love you, too.”

Again, you stared at the picture frames still hung on the wall. A full family– parents, kids, grandparents, all commemorated permanently in this house. You could have something like this, too. Not everything had come to an end when the world had fallen apart. People persisted. Love, connection, and happiness. It was still here, alive and humming in all of the places you had been.

You realized now, in Joel’s arms, that you had to start from scratch. Build up the beautiful life that was already budding before you. This was something you would fight for. 

-

Fresh white paint slopped messily onto chipped brown walls, Joel in the corner of your eye with paint splattered on his own worn t-shirt.

You heard the sound of his footsteps padded by the sheets on the floor approaching you, even over the music that was flowing from the crank record player in the corner of the room. An old Frank Sinatra: Songs For Swiningin’ Lovers! record was spinning and skipping, songs from forever ago that made your heart feel a little heavier.

He grinned at you as he grabbed your waist, taking the paintbrush you held in your hand and holding it up out of your reach. 

“Hey,” you warned when you broke the kiss, “I’m picking up your slack over here.”

He laughed and swiped his thumb over your cheek. “I see that. Got paint all over your pretty face.”

As you were about to protest, he kissed you again and his hands trailed down to your hips and ass. He tasted like cool silver and sparks of electricity. His beard scratched your face as he started to back you up to the wall. The paintbrush clattered to the floor. 

The two of you had been systematically moving furniture and covering whatever else you could as you started the process of freshening up his and Ellie’s place. Your place, too. You’d all but cleared your own house out, and you felt your lives officially combining. The whole process of knowing Joel had been like passing right through him. Knowing him deeply– the good, the bad, and the ugly– until you could stand on the other side and look him in the eye and say that you loved all of it. 

“You up for a break?” He offered with his mouth ghosting your collar. 

“Painting’s gonna take forever if you keep this up,” you pointed out.

“Not my fault that y’look so damn good in overalls.”

You laughed, and he laughed, and he slung you over his shoulder before you could get another word in to carry you upstairs.

You shed your clothes like a second skin onto the floor, lying bare for each other in the sunlit bedroom you shared. Joel fucked you differently now. There was no desperation, no quickness, no fear that you were going to disappear beneath him. He fucked you sickeningly slow, torturously, like he had realized that it would last a lifetime. A lifetime of feeling you.

His tongue met all of your weak spots while his fingers breached your throbbing entrance. He pumped long, gratuitous beats with his ring and middle finger and you shook as the ridges and years of wear on his hands hit every pressure point that made you feel good. 

Compliments and praise rolled off his tongue and reverberated into your body. Sweet girl. Pretty little thing. Feels good, huh? Beautiful. Tell me you feel good, baby. Just like that. Mine. Mine. 

It felt like he could make you come with his voice alone. 

He liked playing with you, though. Knew intimately how weak he made you. Still, you felt like you could give your most vulnerable self over to him and he would protect it with his life. 

“Joel, Joel– so close–”

He paused his work, meeting your eyes between your parted thighs. “Not yet, darlin’, I’m gonna feel you come. Wanna feel it.”

Tilting your hips up to meet his, he hooked your legs on his shoulders and thrusted methodically inside of you. He stopped every once in a while to tease your clit, still crying for attention, with the wet head of his cock. You moved your hand down to touch yourself, rubbing fast circles against the spot, but he grabbed your hand away and insisted on stimulating you himself.

He treated you too well. Didn’t want you lifting a finger while he was taking care of you. With his free hand he felt you up all over, raising the hairs on your body and making you shiver. He loved watching what he did to you. Loved when you made him feel drunk and desperate. 

The one thing you could give was grabbing his arm as you came, letting him feel your walls convulse and shudder around his cock. That was usually his trigger– he couldn’t stand it much longer as he watched you whine and moan around his name, repeating it over and over like a fiery prayer. 

Oh, Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. 

Sweating and panting in the small room, already hot from the harsh summer, he laid there quietly with you. You could hear You Make Me Feel So Young still warbling from the record player as you ran your hand up and down his side.

Dark brown lashes met his skin as his eyes slipped shut. You couldn’t tell if he was getting old fast or just getting more comfortable with you, because it seemed like he was falling asleep next to you every chance he got.

You were glad. Setting all of your happiness and contentment being with him, you were glad that you made him feel safe– to watch those walls that he’d built up so high and impenetrable to slowly drop since you’d met him.

You propped yourself up to lean over and kiss the bridge of his nose. “Was this your plan all along? Tire both of us out so you had an excuse to stop painting for the day?”

He cracked an eye open, a smile spreading on his face. “M’not tired. You paint all you want, baby, I could watch you all day.”

“Mhm, making me do all the work, as per usual.” You shut your eyes and dropped your head against his chest.

“You’re too young to complain. I’m too old.”

“Not too old to fuck me like that, though?”

He laughed in a way that told you he was also rolling his eyes. “Never too old for that.”

“Touché, Miller.”

Your breathing started to even out and your skin felt temperate from the sun breaking through the curtains. Joel’s arms were firmly tucked around you and it almost felt like an instinct. He protected you, even if you didn’t want him to. Took care of you when he didn’t have to. Loved you just because he could. 

You let him. You could live a million more days like this.

-

You painted more walls, filled old cracks, broke a pipe or two in the process. Joel was always there to fix things. It was messy and far from a perfect renovation, but it was home and that was enough. 

Your personal passion project, however, was fixing up the backyard. With the lawn mowed and overgrown weeds under control, you were determined to start a garden. You picked a six by three patch of land towards the back, adjacent to the huge bur oak that provided a nice radius of shade for half the day until the sun shifted. 

Joel had built the wooden perimeter for you and you had nurtured the rest. All it took was a morning of ripping up grass and a few seed packets from the town’s garden, and your plants were already starting to breach the soil and bloom. On a particularly warm afternoon, watering can in hand, you were worried that the zucchini was going to overtake the whole thing.

From the corner of your eye you saw Ellie slide out of the back door and stomp over to the shade of the oak tree, promptly laying down on the cool grass with a groan. Her hair, usually tied back in a practical ponytail, was sprawled out on the ground beneath her head.

Wordlessly, you dropped the watering can and sank down a few feet away, facing her. 

“What’s up with you, kid?”

She huffed again, covering her eyes with her forearms. “My hair’s too fucking long,” she said at last. “Making everything hot. I wish I was bald.”

You laughed. “I’ll shave it off, if you want.”

She lifted her arm slightly to look over at you. “It’d look sick, right?”

“Yeah. Super metal,” you agreed. “You’d still be pretty bald by wintertime, though.”

 She only groaned at that revelation.

“Do you know how to braid?” You asked, lying down on your back. The tree was rustling in the wind and the gaps in the leaves allowed thin beams of light through. 

“Like, a regular braid? Kinda… falls out, though. Then I have to care about it.”

“French braids, then? The kind that goes up your whole head?”

“It’d look stupid,” she concluded. “I’m not seven.”

“No, c’mon. It’ll stay in for a few days, too. If it’s out of your face, you won’t even have to think about it.”

She sat up this time, running her fingers back and forth through the grass. “I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you. Go get a brush and some hair ties.”

With simply surviving being Ellie’s number one priority for so long, you doubted she had ever put much mental energy into caring about how she looked. A hairstyle and clothes were surely an afterthought when living to see the next day had been so uncertain. But she was a teenage girl who had been at a comfortable distance from death for a while now, and she deserved to feel good about herself. Pretty, even.

So the two of you sat, her sat criss-crossed in front of you as you got to work on parting her hair into two and weaving tight plaits into each side. You tried to be as precise and methodical as possible without pulling too hard or making her sit there for too long. Her hair was long, thick and slightly wavy in the humidity. 

You put both hands on her shoulders when you were done, admiring your work. “Better? Turn, let me see the front.”

She did as she was told, smoothing her hands over the braids that sat on her shoulders. “Yeah, this is better.”

“You look beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck off.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” You tilted your head and smiled at her. “If you like it, I’ll show you how to do it on yourself.”

She shrugged as she stood up, taking the brush and comb from your hands. “Dunno. Ponytails are like, a billion times easier.”

“If you say so.” You caught her wrist before she could turn to walk away. “Offer still stands. I’m always here for… girl stuff. I know a lot more about some things than Joel. Okay?”

“Yeah, girl stuff. Hair and periods and shit. Got it. Thanks.” She waved you off dismissively. 

“I’m serious. Just know that,” you called after her.

“I heard you!” She yelled back, already halfway across the lawn.

Joel came home later than expected that night, long after the two of you had eaten dinner. He was half expecting you and Ellie to be in bed by then, so it came as a surprise when he shut the front door and heard back and forth bickering mixed with tearful laughter pouring out of Ellie’s bedroom.

Quietly, he made his way upstairs, lingering by her door that was slightly ajar. Warm, pink light seeped out of the space along with the familiar sound of her giggle.

With a fistful of your hair in her hand, trying and failing at her attempt to create a presentable french braid, you were winded from laughter.

“For how awful this looks, Ellie, I don’t know how you’re managing to scalp me.”

“I’m doing it like you showed me! Grab a chunk from here, put it together, put it over the middle. Chunk, together, middle. Chunk–”

She yanked on a thick strand of hair. “Jesus, ow.”

“Shut up, it looks great.”

Holding up a mirror to your hair, you shook your head.“It looks like I got in a fight with a rabid animal and lost.”

Ellie laughed again, her grip going weak as she flopped backwards onto her bed. Shaking out the rest of your hair, Joel watched you lay down next to her, trying to catch your breath as you wiped tears from your eyes. You looked at each other in the dim pink light, twin grins on your faces.

“Do you regret your offer now?” Ellie asked.

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

Joel pressed himself up against the wall in the hallway, smiling to himself. Things were so bad for so long. When things are bad enough for long enough, you think it’ll stay that way forever. You think it’ll never be good again. You think you’ve changed for the worse.

Joel often discounted himself, thinking that all that bad had done something irreversible to him– an insidious, evergreen thing that he wouldn’t be able to tear out of himself. 

But you– Ellie– his girls, you washed that away in him every new day with you. Soothed burns from a lifetime ago, siphoned out poison that felt like it had eroded him entirely. Things could still be good. He could be good for the two of you, at least. 

With time, everything heals. He was sure of it.

-

The only thing missing from your new home was a piano.

It was the last thing to move, and it took you, Joel, Tommy, and a few passersbys who were tired of watching the three of you struggle to carry it just a few houses down the street.

You were heartbroken when the move had thrown it badly out of tune. You could play, but you were hardly a professional, and you were at a loss as to how one was supposed to tune an 88-key piano. 

Joel watched you sit in front of it, hands steepled in front of your face after you had attempted to transpose a few songs you knew into something that sounded mildly similar, but it was no use. 

He put a hand on your back as you stabbed the keyboard in a few more places, fingers moving fluidly as you played different scales. The sound was twingy and grating.

“It’s alright, hon. We’ll fix it,” he murmured.

“It was already old to begin with. I should’ve known. You’d have to take the whole face off, tune each one… and with what, a wrench? I don’t even know what it’s supposed to sound like.”

Joel was quiet for a while, inspecting the front panel of the instrument as you continued to play out of tune melodies. “I’m pretty handy, ain’t I? It’s not rocket science. You know what it’s supposed to sound like, c’mon now. You know the thing like the back of your hand.”

When you didn’t respond, Joel left the room. You dropped your forehead onto the keyboard, cringing when it made a loud, angry sound. Maybe this was a sign. You should never have disturbed it. You had this one perfect thing, this piano that had fallen right into your lap when you had moved to Jackson. It had changed everything. It made you feel human again. It felt like a sign from the universe, one that reaffirmed the creeping fear that you could only have so many good things and that you certainly never deserved them all.

Joel pulled you from your stupor when he sat down on the bench next to you. He had a screwdriver in hand, silently putting himself to work on revealing the hammers and the pin block. You didn’t lift your head from your hands until he started tapping on middle C, then crudely turning the tuning pin with a striking wrench until the sound was clear and in tune.

“Stop, stop, don’t touch it– that's it,” you said with your hand on his wrist.

He nodded, and you weren’t even sure he recognized the wave of relief that washed over your expression. He just went onto the next, D, until you signaled for him to stop when you heard the correct sound.

Joel sat with you for hours as the two of you worked on it. You took over after a while, making him play different chords on his guitar to ensure the sounds were matching up on the black and white keys together. You were almost certainly driving the neighbors insane, hitting the same notes over and over again until muscle memory kicked in and it sounded like it was right.

It was an amateur's job, undoubtedly. Any trained musician would probably be horrified by your heavy handedness, your unreliable ear for the notes, Joel’s corroboration on the guitar– it wasn’t perfect. To you, though, it was. By the time you had adjusted every tuning pin, it sounded better than it ever had before.

Tired and driven a little crazy from the incessant noise, you and Joel sank down into the couch. The main panel still needed to be reattached, the floor cleaned from loose sheet music and tools, but it didn’t matter. He wrapped his left arm around you like he always did, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“Told you,” he chided. 

“Thank you. I love you.”

You dropped your head into the warm crook of his neck, and he didn’t say anything back. He didn’t have to. He’d been telling you he loved you for the past three hours, in his own secret language that enveloped you and hummed quietly in the air. I’d do anything for you, it said, whether it be peeling your orange or fixing your old piano or falling on his own sword. For you, I would. I would I would I would.

“Don’t have to thank me, m’just glad you’re happy.”

You didn’t have much left to repay him with. You don’t think you’d ever be out of debt with him, for giving you everything. You would have to make it up to him. 

-

With your piano renewed and that nagging empty feeling confidently shut out of your head, you and Ellie practiced together like mad. She was insistent on rehearsing the songs she had picked for her recital until they were entirely flawless. 

You forced her to set a date to show Joel out of fear that she’d never come to a point where she felt satisfied with herself. He went out with Tommy that day, promising he’d bring something back for the two of you, which signaled that he would be gone for the afternoon and into the evening.

You braided Ellie’s hair, fixed up your new home together, and taught her how to bow at the end of her very informal performance. She was refreshingly giddy and excited, telling you over and over again how surprised Joel would be. 

“He already knows you’re good, hon,” you reminded her.

“Yeah, but I’m like super fucking good now. Bet he doesn’t know what my dainty little lady fingers can do.”

You laughed, pulled her in close to your side, and agreed before she asked to practice one more time before he got home.

When you heard him at the door that remained permanently unlocked, you were in the middle of dragging two chairs from the kitchen into the living room to position by the piano. You greeted him, and he kissed you long and slow, grabbing you from behind.

“You look nice. Really pretty, darlin’. Why’re all the lights off? Am I forgetting somethin’?” He said, a hint of concern in his low voice.

You shook your head and pulled yourself away from him. “No. We have a surprise for you,” you revealed. “Go up and change into something nice. We’ll be down here.”

You could see the gears turning in Joel’s mind, leafing through his recollection of birthdays and anniversaries and any other thing he could think of that would warrant a surprise.

“Everything’s fine, Joel. Better than fine. Good. It’s just us.”

He put his hands up in surrender before disappearing up the stairs. 

You sat next to Ellie on the piano bench, wrapping both of her hands up in yours. A single, loose french braid ran down her head and spilled over onto her shoulder. A few stubborn flyaways curled up around her temple and framed her face. 

“You look perfect. You’ll be great. It’s Joel, anyway, you could play Baa Baa Black Sheep and he’d give you a standing ovation.” You smiled.

She nodded, smiling alongside you. “Yeah, I know.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, so you pulled her into a long hug before letting them fall. The universe worked in funny ways, you thought. You had Ellie to thank for bringing Joel here, and Maria for forcing her into trivial music lessons after music had become little more than obsolete after the world had come to a screeching halt.

But mostly, you wanted to thank her for showing her so much good. For reminding you that some things, the most important things, never really did fade.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Yeah… you’re welcome. For whatever I did.”

Joel came down the stairs slowly, evident that he was tired and his right side was bothering him again. He had a hand on the healed scar on his abdomen when he entered the living room, dressed in fresh jeans and a green button down.

“Surprise!” Ellie exclaimed. “You have to listen to my ‘recital.’ Just sit back and enjoy, old man.” She grinned.

“Oh man, this is a surprise. Y’all should’ve told me about this,” he said, making his way over to one of the kitchen chairs that were placed a few feet away from the piano. “I’m all ears. Play away, kiddo.”

You took your seat next to Joel, and he grabbed your hand to squeeze it. When you looked over to him as Ellie played the preamble to Uptown Girl, his eyes were a little shiny. 

She played like a true pianist. You’d heard her set a million times, but the smile on Joel’s face made something heavy and light all at the same time catch in your chest. You couldn’t quite describe the feeling– pride? Contentment? Honest, pure happiness? Whatever it was, it felt good. You felt whole.

Joel couldn’t help but laugh at the 180 switch to the Jurassic Park Theme after giving her raucous applause for the first song. She giggled her way through it, too, and so did you. If she missed a beat or her finger slipped on a key, she just kept playing, nodding along with the fractured beat. 

He was leaning back in his seat when she hit the first few notes of Ain’t Too Proud To Beg, but soon perked up. 

“This is a good one, El. A good one, damn. The Stones covered this one, right?”

“Shut up, I’m concentrating,” she quipped. 

I know you wanna leave me

But I refuse to let you go

If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy

I don’t mind, ‘cause you mean that much to me

You smiled, seizing your opportunity to grab him by the hand and pull him up and out of his seat. He humored you, taking you by the waist to sway around the living room with you.

Now I heard a cryin’ man is half a man

With no sense of pride

But if I have to cry to keep you

I don’t mind weepin’

If it’ll keep you by my side

Your laughter melted and swam in the air along with the music, nearly toppling each other over when he lifted your arm to spin you around. You both sang along with the tune of the music as Ellie played, and she glanced over her shoulder at the two of you with a smile spread wide across her face. 

Ain’t too proud to beg, sweet darlin’

Please don’t leave me girl

Ain’t too proud to plead, baby, baby

Please don’t leave me girl

You pressed your back up against his frontside and he wrapped both arms around you from behind while he swayed along with you. You looked up over your shoulder, and he met you with a sweet kiss.

Both of you applauded wildly when Ellie finished, and she stood up to give a very haphazard bow, as you’d taught her.

“Sit back down, I wanna hear that one again. Man, you’re too good,” Joel said, coming over to her to ruffle the top of her head. “You killed it, darlin’. Keep goin’.”

Going for the encore, you and Joel rocked to the music in each other’s arms. You faced him this time, your arms resting on his shoulders while his found your waist again.

“You did good, baby. This is… I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“She’s here because of you. We both are, if you think about it.”

He nodded, his dark eyes glistening in the light again. “Yeah… don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

You kissed his lips, drawn out and lovingly, smiling against them. “You deserve the world, Joel Miller.”

He laughed quietly as he shook his head, fully pulling you into his arms. He dropped his head onto your shoulder and clung to the fabric of your shirt. “I love you. Just… so much.”

At last, you thought– maybe there was only one universe. Only one life. One chance to cry and sing, to love and be loved, to feel the ground beneath your feet and say I am here for a reason. I can be good. Get better. A hundred thousand days of sun, sleepless nights below heavenly stars, a few more cold winters to get through. I am here with him, in this universe, where we’ve both changed. Been able to know each other. 

You had no clue if you’d get only one or if you’d get ten thousand more. If all of your lives would have Joel in them, finding him as your neighbor or your best friend or as a stranger across an ocean. You hoped you’d always find him, in one way or another. 

But if all you got was this one– just this one hard, beautiful life, one chance to hear the music–

It would be enough for you.

-

[dragonflylady77]

what are your intentions with my brother?

Rating: G | 1623 words | shovel talk

A3 - dare romance for @harringrovesummerbingo

Read on Ao3

Summary:

Max gives Steve the shovel talk

Steve knocked on the door and let himself in, like Max had instructed him to. He followed the voices and excited squeals to the kitchen.

“ Dad! ” Rosie screeched when she saw him, jumping off her chair and running into his waiting arms.

“Hello, princess. Did you have fun at Disneyland?” As much as Steve had enjoyed his child free weekend with Billy, he’d also missed his daughter.

“We saw Tiana and Merida and Buzz Lightyear, Dad, it was so amazing!” 

Steve walked to the table and deposited her back in her chair next to her friend.

“Ladies,” Steve said with a nod to Max and Roscoe, who was busy putting the final touches to what looked like an overly decorated cupcake.

“Hey, Steve. Coffee?” Max offered, getting up to make him one when Steve nodded.

The two little girls excitedly told him all about their fun weekend in Anaheim while they demolished their cupcakes and Max cleaned up the colorful mess of frosting and sprinkles covering the table.

“Roscoe, sweetie, why don’t you and Rosie go wash your hands then she can help you make sure your room is nice and tidy?”

“Okay, Mummy. Come on, Rosie.” 

The two girls left hand in hand, whispering to each other and Steve was pretty sure he heard something about a Prince William and a King.

“We need to talk.”

Steve turned back to Max, who was looking straight at him with a rather serious look on her face, the likes of which he hadn’t seen directed at him before.

“Um, yeah, sure, what’s up?” he replied, trying not to squirm. He hoped Rosie had been good for the Sinclairs, though he was pretty sure that was the case.

“I wanted to know what your intentions are with my brother.”

“My intent—what is this, the Middle Ages? We’re… friends,” Steve said, wondering how much Max knew and what she’d heard from Billy. He wasn’t sure how close the siblings were.

“Don’t feed me this bullshit, Steve. You’re more than friends and you know it.”

“Well, yes, okay, we’ve gone on a few dates and had, um, sleepovers, but I fail to see how it’s any of your business.” 

“Steve… you’re not as good at hiding your hook-ups with my brother from your child as you think you are.”

“What the fuck, Max?”

“Remember when I took them to the beach the other week?”

Steve nodded. He’d been so relieved when Max had offered to take Rosie after school and keep her until dinner time while he was stuck at school meeting with students and their parents.

“They built a sandcastle and then had a whole story going about Prince William and the King getting married.”

“Wh-what?”

“They know, Steve.”

“But… how?” Steve was in shock. He’d been so careful to keep his interactions with Billy separate from Rosie. Fuck .

Max shrugged. “I don’t know how, but they do. I need to know what your end game is, because I love my brother and he deserves better than some rushed trysts in a dark cupboard.”

“We…” Steve cleared his throat. “We agreed that it was better to keep things casual, and, um, see each other when Rosie was not home.”

“Steve, I like you, you’re a great dad and a good friend, but I know my brother and he doesn’t have a casual bone in his body. So you need to decide how you feel about him, and do the right thing.”

“And what would that be?” Steve was getting pissed off by Max’s interest in his sex life. “You know, he told me about what you apparently refer to as his ‘slut era’, so I’m not sure why you suddenly care.”

“Okay, that was completely different. Not sure how much he told you, but he was with Derek for four years. They were talking about getting married and finding a surrogate. They were looking at buying a fucking house together, Steve, then one day, Billy came home to find the douchebag in bed with their realtor, Stacey.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Apparently it’d been going for some time. Later, Billy found out that the bitch was pregnant.”

“What the fuck?!”

Max got herself a beer from the fridge, offering one to Steve who declined. He was trying to wrap his head around the bomb that Max had just dropped. While Billy had briefly mentioned the relationship on their first date, he hadn’t gone into details, and now, Steve could understand why.

“He kinda spiraled after that, which, fair enough. I thought I was going to lose him a couple of times, but he pulled through only to start hooking up with random guys, like, a different one every day of the week. I think he looked for the wrong guys on purpose, so there was no risk he’d get his heart broken again.”

“He told me he stopped after a while, because it made him feel empty,” Steve recalled. He was surprised to realize he felt the need to hug Billy and never let go.

“Yeah, that was two years ago, give or take. He threw all his energy into work, accepted a transfer to Seattle to oversee the new branch, and spent all the time he wasn’t at the office either at the gym or sleeping. He only came home for Christmas and Roscoe’s birthday. And yet, somehow, you two ended up playing Seven Minutes in Heaven in my hallway closet.” Max gave him a pointed look and Steve felt his cheeks heat up.

“I didn’t mean for anything to happen, I can promise you that.”

“Oh, I know. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I had high hopes.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

The smirk on Max’s face was eerily similar to the one he’d seen on Billy’s, and the blue eyes only compounded the resemblance. “I had a hunch you two would get along. And I was right.”

“You usually are,” said a deep voice coming from the doorway.

Steve whipped around to see Lucas standing there—so tall, his head almost reached the top of the doorframe. “Lucas. Hi.”

“Hey, Steve,” Lucas replied with a smile, walking into the kitchen and dropping a kiss on Max’s awaiting lips. “Hi, baby. The girls upstairs?”

“Yeah, they’re supposed to be cleaning up but I have a feeling they’re reenacting the royal wedding again instead.”

Lucas chuckled and threw an amused glance Steve’s way. “I’ll go check on them and make sure Rosie didn’t forget to pack anything.”

“Thanks, babe.” Max watched him leave then turned back to Steve. “Like I said before my husband walked in, I had a feeling you and Billy would hit it off, and you did. You are now at a crossroad, my friend. I know you worry about Rosie getting attached to a potential partner in case things don’t work out, and I get that, really, I do, but you can’t keep going like this. Billy is…” Max let out a sigh and put her bottle down on the counter, fingers picking at the label. “Billy is not built for casual, Steve. He’s the ‘all or nothing’ kind of guy. He puts his whole heart into everything, including relationships. So you need to decide if that’s something you want in your life. If he is someone you want in your life. Otherwise, I need you to end things with him now, before he gets hurt by an attractive bisexual man again.”

Max got out of her chair, taking a moment to put her empty bottle in the sink, then stopping by Steve. She patted him on the shoulder a couple of times. “I’ll give you a week to think about it.”

Steve barely heard Max leave the room, lost in thought about everything she had said. She had filled in some of the blanks about Billy’s dating history that Steve had been too chicken to ask Billy about, and given him quite the shovel talk…

He was still puzzled about the fact that Rosie knew about him and Billy, but he wasn’t mad about it. Truth be told, he’d found himself liking Billy more and more as the weeks passed. Lately, he’d even started to think about how he could approach the subject of Billy with his daughter. 

He sighed and folded his arms on the table, resting his head on his hands, as he thought about what Max had said. The thing Steve didn’t get was why Billy would agree to be casual if it was so against his nature. Steve had tried dating since his divorce, with limited success. It was hard to take the time to get close to someone when your child and their well-being was your priority. But that hadn’t been an issue with Billy. 

Steve had heard about Uncle Billy on numerous occasions, and from the moment he had laid eyes on Max’s brother at Roscoe’s party, he had been entranced. He’d just had to follow Billy into that coat closet, going as far as to pretend it was an accident so he had a reason to start a conversation.

He’d been the one to text first and had let out a very undignified squeal when Billy had replied, earning himself a surprisingly scornful look from his six-year-old. Not only was Billy hot, but he was also funny, thoughtful, clever, and really amazing in bed. He could do things with his tongue that made Steve blush merely remembering about them.

So, yeah, fair to say, Steve was smitten. He really regretted suggesting they keep their relationship casual because now he wasn’t sure how to tell Billy he wanted more. Though, listening to Max, there was a high chance they would get their happy ending.

[willfrominternet]

Been a while since I posted here but I got a ping about this post where I talked about what I expected from Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor and their adventures with Ruby Sunday. After watching the season, I think I was right in saying the Doctor should be fun and their adventures should be fun.

This was, by all measures, a season which hearkened back to the first years of the Modern Era. It felt like watching Chris Eccleston and Billie Piper all over again. Both Chris and Ncuti played Doctors coming from great trauma and wanting to escape it, even if they did it in different ways (with Nine having to learn to rediscover love and Fifteen openly embracing it.) Both of them also had to face trauma at the end of their first season (in Chris's case, his only season): Nine dealt with the return of the Daleks, nearly losing Rose, and having to sacrifice himself just as he was starting to recover, while Fifteen had to cope with how death followed them everywhere, regardless of their longing for peace, positivity, and fun.

Ruby was very much just a normal girl like Rose, and I think her unexplained magic abilities don't take away from that. Rose also underwent a transformation in her second (and final) season, where she got locked in an alternate timeline and (sort of) became the Bad Wolf. I believe we'll therefore learn more about Ruby's abilities and see her character transform in her second season, as well as learn about Mrs. Flood and how she plays into the Doctor's timeline. (Early thoughts: River, another child of Amy and Rory, the Rani, another pre-Hartnell Doctor, a future Doctor, etc. etc. etc.)

Anyway: This season was definitely fun, but brought back the philosophical and historical bits which originally made Doctor Who at least somewhat educational and thought-provoking. I think this was what was missing from Moffatt's and Chibnall's runs on the show: It became more centered around the wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey lore and less around tying the history/sci-fi to current issues. (The Capaldi era actually did this somewhat well, but I'm biased because I love Capaldi.) Here's the ranking of episodes from best to okay:

Rogue

Dot and Bubble

73 Yards

Boom

The Devil's Chord

Space Babies

The Legend of Ruby Sunday/Empire of Death

This first season did, in my opinion, feel too much like a taste of Doctor Who, or a "Season 1A." Series 7 was like this too, where we had so much left unresolved and underdeveloped after those first five episodes. (Not that the rest of Series 7 was much better, IMHO.) At least this first season for Ncuti felt a little more full, but now I'm even more excited to see what happens to the Doctor, Ruby, and whoever Varada Sethu will play in the next season. Perhaps that was the twist all along. Damn you, Russell! Damn you, Disney Plus!

Was this the finest season of the new incarnation of the show? No, but I would certainly give it a solid B. The writing was quite good, the acting was phenomenal, and the general vibe of the show definitely gave the impression that Doctor Who was back, baby. But the development did feel a bit rushed, and there were certain parts of the Doctor's character left over from previous incarnations which I thought they would have processed differently. Plus, I view other seasons of the show (Series 1, 2, 5, 8, 9, 10) more favorably. Call it bias, call it favoritism, call it nostalgia.

Whatever. Point is that Ncuti and Millie had a lot to prove in this semi-reboot of the show, and RTD had to show he still had his stuff, and by golly, they did it. I - as well as plenty of other long-time fans - haven't been this excited about the show in a while, despite how the season ended. And you're telling us we've gotta wait now for Christmas and then some time in the middle of 2025 for more? It's like I'm a high school fanatic raving mad in the middle of my bedroom again. What a wild feeling.

[hollygl125]

On the background of one Dr. Gilbert Grissom (a few further thoughts):

This is a note from my first story on my two favourite science nerds, and I’ve been meaning for a while to put it up here on Tumblr as meta. I’ve also added some additional thoughts at the bottom.

I’m sure almost anyone reading this probably has their own thoughts on Gil Grissom and his background, so I wanted to expand a little on what my thoughts on Grissom were when writing this, beyond what fit into the narrative. (I guess I should give a spoiler alert on this, but I assume anyone reading this has seen to the end of the first season of CSI: Vegas; consider that your spoiler alert for my comments in the last paragraph.)

Growing up in the era he did, and seeing his parents’ marriage when he was a young child (his mother later claimed she and Grissom’s father had never spent a night apart when he, her late husband, was still alive), I imagine a young Gil had at one time vaguely expected he would grow up, get married, and have the stereotypical nuclear family—because he would have thought that was just what one did.

Toward the end of his doctoral studies (which he apparently completes at the age of 22, though I don’t know if that’s after his August birthday in 1978 or before it in 1979), when he’s finally around enough people his own age, he meets a girl who likes him and who is nice to him, and he starts dating her, and he thinks himself in love—he just doesn’t know any better.

There’s no spark, but Grissom doesn’t recognize that. He’s also really into his studies and his other scientific pursuits, and they always take priority—science takes the pot. When the relationship with the girl ends, he isn’t upset. He still generally imagines some future family life for himself, though, because, again, that’s just what one does.

After his relationship with the girl ends, he tries to date occasionally, but his heart is never in it, and he’s very much just going through the motions. He doesn’t have any trouble getting dates if he wants them because, hello, he’s young Billy Petersen, and he’s a stone-cold hottie. He doesn’t even have to ask girls out. The liberated ladies of the 1970s (and on) are asking him out. Still, there’s never any spark on his side, but he doesn’t really get that; he still doesn’t know any better.

Plus, the science and now his job still always take priority; he loves them both. This is a self-perpetuating phenomenon because, as the things that really interest him take priority, his attempts at dating and anything even resembling a relationship (and I don’t imagine there being any other relationships of note, nothing longer than a couple of months, maybe, at maximum—and even then with him barely seeing the women) do not go well.

As a result, even more Grissom prioritizes science and work. So then the dating and any attempts at relationships go even worse; he’s really not into them, and his heart is still never in it; ultimately, they make him feel sad and disconnected from humanity. At the same time, due to all the horrendous things he sees on the job, his opinion of humanity is plummeting.

As this continues, he begins to think there is something wrong with him; he sees something inherently lacking in himself and how he is with other people, if he tries to get too close to them. He builds walls: barriers between himself and other people, barriers between himself and the rest of the world, barriers between himself and humanity.

Grissom’s earlier vague ideas of an eventual marriage and possible family fade out completely. He otherwise remains good-natured but detached. He fears being known. A shell grows around his heart. He still very occasionally goes out on a date or a few dates and maybe very, very, very rarely goes home with a woman, but at that point it’s all just to prove to himself that he’s made the right decisions and he’s not missing out on anything; it still leaves him feeling sad and even more disconnected. Things stay like this for quite some time.

Then, nearly twenty years into this process, after he is (in his own mind) truly a confirmed bachelor for life, he meets this young woman. Her beauty and her brilliance and her wit (I think he’d find her witty, given how much they seem to speak the same language and operate on the same wavelength) and all her other charms all hit him basically at once, almost simultaneously. For the first time in his life, he feels a spark, and she feels it, too. For the first time, he really cares about beauty.

But by this point Grissom has put up all these walls and grown this shell, and he’s fully convinced of his own ineptitude in relationships. So he has absolutely no f***ing clue what to do about it—this spark, this woman, this beauty. He feels like he’d be this inexperienced teenager trying to court the woman, because he’s never done any of this properly; he’s never actually cared about a woman like this before. He’s convinced that he would ruin any serious romantic relationship with the woman, that he’s just not good enough for her. And, the longer he knows her, the more convinced of her goodness he is.

For over seven years, Grissom has no real clue what to do. But then really, even though he seems to learn for a while, we could say that for seventeen and a half years he still doesn’t completely get it; he still has this underlying insecurity about his own suitability for love and relationships and marriage; he still thinks he’s not good enough for the woman. In the end, though, I think he gets it. He is fully obsessed with his wife (in the best possible way), and I honestly don’t think he gives a f*** about much other than her.

Now, if perhaps you want a reminder of the hotness of a young (’80s) WP, this is my favourite GIF. I also recommend you check him out as Richard Chance in To Live and Die in L.A., Russell Murdock (seriously, the DILFiest of all DILFs) in Amazing Grace and Chuck, and Stud Cantrell in Long Gone.

(This note complements what I describe in the third chapter of my first story, so I’d recommend checking that out If you’re interested in reading more!)

I have to admit that my ideas on Grissom’s background really were a “necessity is the mother of invention” kind of thing. I needed him to have a backstory that fit with my understanding of him from canon but that also got me where I needed to go in terms of the story I wanted to tell about him and Sara and their first meeting.

But I will also admit that I have very much drunk my own Kool-Aid on this matter; what was once an invention for storytelling purposes has very much become my own headcanon. The more I’ve thought about it, the more it makes sense to me. If Grissom had never even tried to be in a relationship, to date, etc. before Sara came along, he wouldn’t have been so resistant to it all. He wouldn’t have been so convinced of his own unsuitability, his own inferiority, his own unlovability. For that shell to have grown around his heart, something else has to have happened. He has to have gone through the motions. He has to have at least tried to put himself out there. He has to have tried and failed at least a little bit.

Anyway, that’s my opinion; your thinking may vary! 💛

[sexyzuka]

Kiba's Uptown Girl

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

Word Count: 13,335

Content: 18+ Smut MDNI, fem!reader, modern!au, boruto era kiba, fem!receiving oral sex, hair pulling, fingering, scratching and biting, standing doggystyle, creampie, watersports, exhibitionism, mentions of blood, surgery/medical references, references to real people/places, pet names 

Summary: For your anniversary this year you and Kiba decide to take a trip back to your home country. He’s never been to New York City before, and you can’t wait to show him all of the best parts of Manhattan. For your first date of the week you decide to bring him to Central Park to show him the “greatest view” that the city has to offer. Will you be able to control yourself around him? You’re in a public space, so I sure hope so! 

Writer's Notes: While listening to the song “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel I had the idea to write a fic where Kiba and his girlfriend visit the city. I’ve lived around the NYC area for most of my life, so I wanted to create something that incorporated a little slice of home. I was inspired by my trip to Central Park last weekend and included some of my photography within this fic. (You gotta love that extra dash of realism!) This chapter ended up being way longer than I intended, but I just had so much fun throughout the course of writing it, I couldn’t stop myself. I hope you enjoy!

Kiba looks around at all of the signs surrounding you with a confused expression on his face. He didn't even have to say a word before you responded with, "We're taking the 1 train. C'mon, this way." You could hear a familiar tune echoing throughout the corridors of the subway station. There were a few musicians set up nearby, belting out a harmonious tune while reenacting a few scenes from a particular music video you were very well acquainted with. "Are we going uptown or downtown?" "Uptown," you respond without a modicum of doubt in your voice. "Heh, I guess you're a real uptown girl," Kiba responds with a smug assuredness in his tone. "Oh hush, you." You could already tell where this conversation was going the second he uttered those words, the chorus of the nearby performers no doubt spurring on his unusually quirky behavior today. "Y'know, when you're walking you're looking so fine-ine-ine," Kiba began in a singsong voice, "and when you're talking you just know I love it when you say you're mine-ine-ine." Kiba knew how much you loved the classics, and he couldn't help himself but tease you whenever the opportune situation arose. Two could play at that game though, no one knew the lyrics to your favourite songs better than you. "Despite your appearance, you're not so tough," you jest back at Kiba with a rhythmic cadence, "just because you're in love with an uptown girl." "Someday when my ship comes in, maybe you'll understand what kind of guy I've been," he says as he twirls you around the subway station. After he catches you in his arms you share a rather short but passionate kiss. You so fervently wish that this fleeting moment could last longer, but you realize that the two of you have drawn in quite the crowd of your own with your display. As the awareness of the situation sets in you hastily straighten up your clothes a bit and give a silent nod to the musicians, one of whom flashes Kiba a thumbs-up before going back to performing.

It had been many years since you visited your hometown, but you still remember how to get to your favourite destinations without consulting a map. Kiba knew how excited you were for this trip, so he made sure to clear his schedule well in advance. You were quite far from Konoha, the trip taking almost an entire day because of the extended layover in Chicago. Couldn't be helped, you thought to yourself, O'Hare is always a hot mess. At least they didn't lose our luggage this time, you shrug to yourself as you briskly grab your suitcases off of the baggage carousel.

After finishing up the final leg of your journey you and Kiba checked into a hotel in Midtown Manhattan. You were used to commuting from Jersey, but you wanted Kiba's first trip to the area to be an unforgettable experience, so you didn't mind spending the extra ryō. No expenses were to be spared, after all this is your anniversary celebration.

Your circadian rhythm was altered because of all of the travelling, the unrivaled enthusiasm circulating your core powering your insomnia with a fervent vigor. But while Kiba was losing his battle against jet lag you eagerly typed away on the notes app on your cell phone, writing up a list of everything you wanted to do  with him tomorrow. You could scarcely contain your excitement, your heart fluttering as you envision the pure joy and festivities to come.

Your sleep schedule was always a bit unconventional, but it meshed well with Kiba's unpredictable shifts at work. Sometimes Kiba would have to respond to calls in the middle of the night or wee hours of the morning. "It's hard being this popular," is what he'd usually say before heading off to patrol the precinct. He took pride in his work, and Kōtarō acknowledged Kiba as one of the top officers in Konoha, so there was no way he would ever shirk his responsibilities to Konoha. But for this next week  his only responsibility was to you, his girlfriend, and he always kept his promises.

You glance over at the clock next to the bed, choosing to do that instead of looking at the time on your phone because you couldn't resist sneaking another peek at Kiba cuddling Akamaru in his sleep. 5:30 PM. It would be just before sunrise if you were in Konoha right now. Normally you would be sleeping right now, but your anticipation for all of the exhilarating adventures to come put your brain into overdrive. The only thing that could quell your frenzied thoughts was, rather unfortunately, snoozing right now, so you had to make due with some maladaptive daydreaming for the main course this evening.

"Mmm..mmhm... princess..." you could hear Kiba mumbling softly in his sleep.

I wonder if he's having a good dream tonight, you chuckle to yourself as you walk over to the windowsill. You open the curtains with a light touch, endeavoring to be as quiet as possible so as not to awaken your company. The late October sun was already setting over the horizon, a serene twilight beginning to overtake the skyline. You could see the faint twinkle of a few stars glitter in the sky interspersed between the blinking headlights of the planes making their arrival into the city. The familiar hum of their engines was a sweet, nostalgic symphony to your ears.

You spend a few good minutes taking in the view of the Manhattan skyline, tracing the reminiscent shapes of the nearby buildings with a wistful yet pensive glance. It feels so good to be back home, you muse to yourself before delicately closing the curtains and returning to your seat.

As the moon begins its conspicuous journey across the night sky you carefully rock yourself back and forth in the office chair, your musings coming to life in bright and flashy colours. "Oh and I just have to take him here," you say to yourself in a hushed tone as you type away on your phone. "We can't forget about Grand Central Station or Bryant Park either. I don't think the big Christmas tree is up just yet, but he'll definitely want to see Rockefeller Center."

The hands on the analog clock above your head move steadfastly as the minutes melt into  hours. Being completely enraptured by your fantasies of the days to come, you didn't notice the moon bidding you farewell as she quietly dissolved, taking with her the boisterous yet somewhat serene cacophony of early morning traffic. The loud blaring of a nearby siren snaps you out of your contemplative trance.

You look over at the clock again. 7:00 AM. You were honestly surprised with how fast time seemed to evaporate from your grasp, marching on with a cold indifference. You two only had so long in the city, and you wanted to make the most of it. At the very least, Kiba was asleep for these past few hours so it didn't feel like a total waste. Still, you didn't want to squander even a second of precious time with your love.

You shift your focus back to your phone, reviewing the itinerary you drafted up with a revitalized sense of purpose. Nothing would stop you from giving Kiba the best week he's ever had. The only inquiry that stubbornly endured, floating in your mind with a gnawing persistence was what to start with.

"Hm, I guess we could kick off our trip with the Empire State Building. Or is that too blasé? Once you've been in one big building, it's like you've seen them all. We could drop by the New York Public Library, but I don't think he'd appreciate the classics as much as I do. And I could definitely see him complain that the lion statues out in front should be replaced with sculptures of dogs instead," you bring up a hand to your mouth to suppress a chuckle trying to escape as you think of Kiba grumbling and moaning about how a giant statue of Akamaru would look way cooler than some lame ass lions.

"And what are you giggling about over there, princess?" you hear the sleepy baritone reverberate through the room with a candid sense of curiosity.

"Oh, it's nothing," you chime back while your efforts to stifle your laughter prove to be futile.

"I don't know about that, it looks like this is an issue I'll have to investigate further," Kiba remarks as he gets up from the bed and saunters towards you. "Looks like I'll have to bust out one of my secret techniques today."

"Don't tell me you're-"

Kiba blurts out a brisk, "Tickle no jutsu," before you're able to respond. His light and feathery brushing on your flanks sparks an unstoppable electric current that pulsates through your neurons and stimulates your body with a fiery zeal.

"S-stop it," you manage to babble after succumbing to the onslaught of his galvanizing touch, "You win, you win."

"Tell me what I win," Kiba proclaims with a little wink, still closely holding onto your body with his brawny arms.

"A taste of my secret technique," you simper as you turn around slightly, angling your body so that you have a clear path to your target. You then press yourself closer to Kiba while standing on your tiptoes and sink your teeth down into the flesh of his neck with a firm but coy ferocity.

You can feel a groan resonating in his throat, the vibrations tickling your incisors, but you decide to not relent, instead doubling down on your efforts by dragging your nails coquettishly along his back.

A thrumming moan caresses your eardrums with a melodious echo as you continue your assault on his unsuspecting hide. You relish in each tantalizing frequency escaping from his lips.

"So frisky first thing in the morning, I like it," he manages to whine out in a frail attempt at maintaining his composure. You're very well acquainted with all of his erogenous zones, so you're beyond confident you could devour his entire heart right now if you wanted to. But giving him a small taste of these humble hors d'oeuvres, a tantalizing sampler of promiscuity, would only fuel his voracious appetite further and more intensely as the day dragged on, so you decide to relinquish for now.

You pull your lips back from his neck as you say, "Just wait till the main course tonight." You couldn't help but be kittenish when you were engulfed in Kiba's embrace like this. The demure front you put up around others came crashing down whenever the two of you were alone, or rather, almost alone.

You hear a faint sniffle from the other side of the room. As you turn your head and shift your gaze you see Akamaru yawning as he lazily scratches his floppy ears with his back paws. Akamaru was just as much your family as Kiba was, so there was no question about him joining you this week. That did mean, though rather unfortunately, that you'd have to be a little more PG than you had anticipated and hoped-for.

"But before that, how's about you and I get this party started?" You shift your focus back to Kiba, flashing him a smile as you gently place your hands around his shoulders, your fingertips making tiny circles as you stroke his skin with a tender softness.

"A party? I'm more interested in a private show," he protests as he looks into your eyes pleadingly.

"We didn't travel to the other side of the world to spend the whole time in a hotel room, Kiba." It's true you would love to spend more time cooped up in this room with him, but you weren't going to let yourself give in to the temptation. There would be plenty of time for promiscuity after you ticked off everything on your travel bucket list. Who knows the next time you'd both have the opportunity to visit Manhattan, especially considering Kiba's hectic work schedule.

"Such a tease. You sure know how to rile a guy up," he responds in a cheeky tone, "But that will only make my dessert this evening that much sweeter."

"Dessert? Don't you think you're jumping the gun a bit there, hon?"

"Oh, so you wanted to do gunplay this weekend? Sorry, the TSA wouldn't let me bring my usual  fare with me, something about it being a misdemeanor in this jurisdiction."

This man. This incredibly foolish man.

"It," you start laughing a bit as the words escape your quivering larynx, "-it's a figure of speech, Kiba. I wasn't literally talking about a gun."

"I totally knew that. Yeah, I was just testing you. Ahahaha.... haha... ha." Kiba couldn't hide his crimson cheeks from your omniscient glance this time.

"Anywaysss," Kiba flounders, attempting to change the subject before he has to admit that he misspoke, "what did you want to do today, princess? I know you used to be a local 'round here."

You were so engrossed in the absurdity of his previous remarks you needed to take a few moments to compose yourself before answering.

"Let me go grab my phone real quick," you say as you give Kiba a short but sweet parting kiss on the cheek before being released from his embrace.

You open up the notes application on your phone and start scrolling down, contemplating about which suggestion would make the most sense. There were no doubt an endless plethora of things to do in the city, but you wanted to make your first outing together an unforgettable adventure.

"Wow, you really came prepared!" Kiba guffaws as he sees you attentively scrolling down the list of options you find yourself feverishly perusing through.

"You know me. I've never met a list I didn't like," you say pragmatically as you push up the bridge of your glasses with your index finger.

It was true, you were always planning ahead. It gives you peace of mind to write down your musings in order to collect your thoughts. The myriad ideas floating in your consciousness at any one time were overwhelming, so writing was the best way for you to make some sense of the bedlam. It was rather amusing when you thought about the stark contrast between your erudite approach to life versus Kiba's passionate resilience and adaptability. He may not be as well-learned as you, but what he lacks in book smarts he makes up for in determination.

"Hm," you hum to yourself as you sort through the possibilities prancing through your mind, the pirouettes of whimsy filling your imagination with dozens of scenarios playing out like a theatrical performance on a Broadway stage."How about? No, that won't do."

"Oh, what won't do?" Kiba asked as he shot you an expectant gaze.

"I was thinking of taking you to the New York Public Library or the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but I don't think they allow dogs," you glance over at Akamaru as you say those final words.

"I don't know why not. Akamaru's better behaved than most people," Kiba huffs with a shrug as he acquiesces.

"Yeah, but I definitely don't want to stir up any trouble. Oh, I got it!" you clap your hands together when a bolt of inspiration smacks you with the most glorious divination.

"Why don't we stop by Central Park? There's tons of space there for Akamaru to run around, and there will be plenty of other dogs there."

"We came all this way just to see a park?" Kiba asked incredulously, a baffled tone that reeked of innocent cluelessness.

"It's not just a park," you respond with a snarky chide, "It's the park around here. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

"Well, how could I possibly say 'no' to that? C'mon Akamaru, let's get ready to go!" Akamaru bellows out an excited howl as he jumps up and dashes over to Kiba's side.

Hand in hand you and Kiba leave your hotel room, ready for an exciting day out in the city. The morning sun's rays glistening in the dew drops that cover the scattered blades of grass poking through the slabs of sidewalk beneath your feet. Even in this veritable concrete jungle that you used to call home there were a handful of reminders that nature flourished just outside of the city's borders. Today, though, you were going to experience the majesty of the wilds from the comforts of your old stomping grounds.

"Before we head over to Central Park, let's pick up some breakfast," you suggest while looking up at Kiba.

"Sure, what do you recommend, princess?" Kiba responded with a smile on his face.

"We have to get bagels." you reply instantaneously, almost as if you'd rehearsed the line beforehand.

"Bagels?" The change in his voice's inflection exposed his lingering uncertainty.

"The freshest and most delicious bagels you'll ever eat,"  you reply while tugging on his jacket ever so slightly, trying to nudge him into agreement. He could sense your insistence on the matter, so he chose to abandon any attempts at protesting. You did concede by promising to stop by a pet store first to pick up breakfast and some treats for Akamaru before you made your way to your favourite bagel shop.

"Can I have a taylor ham, egg, and cheese on a sesame seed bagel? Toasted, please. Hold the ketchup." you holler out your order to the worker behind the counter. They give you a tacit nod and get to work on your breakfast.

Kiba, impressed by the innate skill with which you ordered, had a perplexed look of confusion on his face as he read the menu to himself.

"What is a bagel with 'lox'?" he asks while pointing to a picture on the laminated paper in front of him.

"Lox is salt-cured, smoked salmon. If you want something less salty I'd recommend the nova lox," you respond while gesturing towards the display cases in front of you.

"I never would have thought to try cream cheese and smoked salmon together. You sure do have some silly customs, princess." Kiba glances up from the menu to meet your steely gaze.

"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it," you reply with a subdued grin, trying to subtly goad him into action.

"You know what? Maybe I will try it. Hey mister, give me one of those lox bagels."

"You have to tell him what kind of bagel and if you want it toasted or not," you whisper to Kiba covertly, so as not to draw too much attention from the other people in the shop.

"What kinds of bagels are there?" Kiba responded with a puzzled expression on his face.

"So many different kinds, you've got sesame seed bagels, onion bagels, egg bagels, french toast bagels, cinnamon raisin bagels..." you prattle off the list you'd committed to memory years ago when you used to work in a bagel shop, "and we can't forget about the everything bagel."

"The 'everything bagel'?" Kiba said with an emphasis on the second word, a questioning tone in his voice.

"Yes, it has a bunch of different toppings. It's one of my personal favourites," you say as the reminiscent taste of the culinary delight tickles the basal ganglia in your neocortex.

"Sounds good, I'll have those of those everything bagels with lox, sir," Kiba calls out to the worker across the counter.

"Toasted, please," you respond without a moment's hesitation. "Trust me," you murmur in Kiba's direction, "you'll thank me later."

After grabbing breakfast you gluttonously unwrap the foil around your glutenous delicacy and devour it in a few bites. "Best bagels in the whole damned world. You can't get them like this anywhere else," you mutter under your breath.

"Wow, this is actually pretty tasty," Kiba says while enjoying generous mouthfuls of his bagel sandwich with gusto, "So you really got to eat like this every day when you used to live here?"

"Mhm. The food was just one of the many perks of living close to the city," you recall as you look up at Kiba while he finishes his breakfast with a few final chomps.

"The tap water here is also divine," you continue on as you feel the familiar and distinct taste of the scrumptious cocktail on the tip of your tongue.

"Oh, what makes it better than the water back in Konoha?" Kiba says as he promptly brushes some crumbs off of his cheeks.

"It might not be kosher, but there's tiny crustaceans called 'copepods' living in the water. They make it extra delicious," you muse as you bring your hand up to your chest with a dainty flourish.

"Crustaceans?" You could see the hamster wheel in Kiba's head spinning extra rapidly as he repeated the word back to you.

"Y'know, like shrimp? Think of it as getting an added bonus on top of the hydration, a special little treat."

"Aren't shrimp bugs?" Kiba responds with a mildly disgruntled tone in his voice.

"No, they're not. Besides, it's extra protein," you chuckle as you flex your arm to show off your biceps, "I thought you were all about bulking up. Or maybe I'll be able to bench more than you if we stay here long enough." You look over from your muscles to Kiba as you see a glint of fire ignite in his eyes.

"Is that a challenge I hear, princess?" The playful yet amorous undertones in his voice can't  help but make you smile, the most presumptuous grin overtaking your countenance.

"You never turn down a challenge, I hear." The self-satisfied look on your face as you realize that you just beguiled him into implicitly promising to stay hydrated is priceless.

"You're damned right I don't. Now hand over that water," Kiba says as he reaches for the bottle in your purse. He takes the biggest gulp imaginable before letting out a boastful exhale.

You judiciously choose to withhold the fact that the water in the bottle he just drank from isn't NYC tap water, instead lightly tugging on his jacket to grab his attention.

"C'mon, let's take the subway to Central Park. I can't wait to show you around," you beamed affectionately in his direction.

"Alright, princess, lead the way," he said as made an exaggerated motion with his hand, sweeping across the stretch of space in front of you with an affable cheerfulness.

You intertwine your fingers with his as you lead the charge to the nearest subway station. You already have your credit card out of your wallet and in your other hand, ready to tap the both of you in without hesitation. A few minutes later and you pass through the Times Square turnstiles with a lithe airiness.

"Times Square is way more impressive at night. We'll come back here later," you assure Kiba as you gently pull on the arm of his jacket, leading him confidently to the 1 Line.

Kiba looks around at all of the signs surrounding you with a confused expression on his face. He didn't even have to say a word before you responded with, "We're taking the 1 train. C'mon, this way."

You could hear a familiar tune echoing throughout the corridors of the subway station. There were a few musicians set up nearby, belting out a harmonious tune while reenacting a few scenes from a particular music video you were very well acquainted with.

"Are we going uptown or downtown?"

"Uptown," you respond without a modicum of doubt in your voice.

"Heh, I guess you're a real uptown girl," Kiba responds with a smug assuredness in his tone.

"Oh hush, you." You could already tell where this conversation was going the second he uttered those words, the chorus of the nearby performers no doubt spurring on his unusually quirky behavior today.

"Y'know, when you're walking you're looking so fine-ine-ine," Kiba began in a singsong voice, "and when you're talking you just know I love it when you say you're mine-ine-ine."

Kiba knew how much you loved the classics, and he couldn't help himself but tease you whenever the opportune situation arose. Two could play at that game though, no one knew the lyrics to your favourite songs better than you.

"Despite your appearance, you're not so tough," you jest back at Kiba with a rhythmic cadence, "just because you're in love with an uptown girl."

"Someday when my ship comes in, maybe you'll understand what kind of guy I've been," he says as he twirls you around the subway station. After he catches you in his arms you share a rather short but passionate kiss. You so fervently wish that this fleeting moment could last longer, but you realize that the two of you have drawn in quite the crowd of your own with your display.

As the awareness of the situation sets in you hastily straighten up your clothes a bit and give a silent nod to the musicians, one of whom flashes Kiba a thumbs-up before going back to performing.

"Well, that was fun." The pheromones were practically radiating off of Kiba's skin at this point. You could feel their brilliant presence circulating through the air, ensnaring you in a covert trap from which there was no easy escape. The only thing keeping you grounded right now was your ever-increasing embarrassment, accumulating at catastrophically high levels.

"C'mon, weren't you gonna show me that park?" Kiba's voice cuts through the awkwardness like a hot knife through the butter of your soul.

"It's not just that park." You would be more exasperated if you weren't so grateful for this man's severe lack of decorum. This brief reprieve from the embarrassment was fortunately enough for you to strengthen your resolve.

"It's called Central Park, and we should get going before we miss another train," you implore as you clutch Kiba's hand in your own once more and motion towards the nearby staircase with a beseeching look.

"Alright, let's do this!" Kiba exclaims as he jubilantly scampers throughout the station, holding onto your hand tightly as you approach the platform together.

"We're going to get off at 72nd Street," you instruct as you walk onto the train with Kiba, Akamaru shadowing you both, closely in tow.

"You know where you're going, right? I'll just be following you anyways. Ha ha ha," Kiba roars as you shake your head with the slightest hint of reproach. Although, could you have honestly expected anything else from this man? His unbridled confidence touched every aspect of his life, and that included his faith in you, his girlfriend. It honestly was a nice change of pace, him letting you take the lead for once and giving you the opportunity to take him along for a wild ride.

As the brakes of the train car screech and the incomprehensible garble of the conductor flowed through the airwaves with a thick discordance you look up at Kiba to let him know that this is your stop. You hop off the train with a buoyant leap and guide your love through the station and onto the street.

"Alright, it's just a few blocks down this way," you say as you turn to the right, your voice filled with an unrivaled exuberance.

"Y'hear that, Akamaru? We're almost there!" Akamaru lets out an excited yelp as he ambles alongside Kiba.

The lavish hues of the foliage take over the scenery as you draw closer to your destination. Splotches of yellows and oranges dotted the landscape with their wistful presence, a beautiful yet melancholy reminder of the transitory nature of life. As the seasons change in an unrelenting cycle so do the myriad creatures that call these woods home. No doubt there were new generations of fauna living here since you last visited, but the unabating feeling of wonder you experienced every single time you entered the park was the same as always.

"And here we are," you announce as you sensually extend your hand, sweeping it across the air with a fluid and rhythmical motion.

"W...Wow," is all Kiba manages to stammer out as he takes in the sights of the park. You could hardly blame him for being awestruck, you were the same exact way the first time you visited Central Park.

You did want to make the most out of the limited daylight hours, especially this time of year, so you volunteered your hand to him once again. Seeing you summon him with such a genial expression was enough to snap Kiba out of his trance. You interlaced your fingers together as you began your late morning journey, a grandiose gala that was sure to bewitch and delight.

You're greeted by an enormous pergola with a plethora of plants twisting and tangling every which way as they adorned the top and sides of the wooden structure. You stroll under splendid architecture with a light step, the cool breeze caressing your cheeks with its slithering zephyrs. It was a mite frigid this time of year, but you always preferred the chill of autumn over the scorching heat of summer.

As you pass under the tendrils trembling in the wind you turn to Kiba and tell him, "Before we go any further you have to put Akamaru on a leash."

"What? Wait, why?" You could hear consternation in the timbre of his voice.

You point over to a nearby sign with a cautious finger. "DOGS MUST BE LEASHED" was printed in bold, capitalized letters. "Sorry, it's just customary around here to keep your pets leashed."

"Akamaru's not just a pet, he's family!" Kiba protests reluctantly before begrudgingly acquiescing.

"I know, I know. But we don't want to get kicked out by a police officer," you shrug as you hand over the leash you prepared in advance.

"Who do you think you're talking to, princess? There's no way they'd arrest me!" Kiba proudly exclaims as he lets out a roaring laugh.

"They can and will in this jurisdiction. I don't think Eric Adams will appreciate an officer overstepping his authority."

"Who?"

"The mayor of New York City. He used to be a NYPD police captain. He's not as lenient as Kōtarō is, so I wouldn't press your luck." You shake your head as you let out a disheartened sigh.

"Alright, fine. Sorry Akamaru, I'll make it up to you later," Kiba says as he hesitantly attaches the leash to the crimson collar around Akamaru's neck.

"I was going to keep this a surprise for later, but there's a big area where Akamaru can run around freely. We just have to make sure he's on a leash when we're walking on the pathways," you offer up your condolences to Kiba with a hushed sigh.

"Sweet! How's about we go there first then?" You can feel the enthusiasm in Kiba's voice as he perks back up, almost instantaneously.

"Hah, I had a feeling you'd say that. Well lucky for you we're pretty close to the area. C'mon, let's go this way," you say as you start jogging with a sprightly sprint. Kiba, infected by your vivacity, energetically follows along with Akamaru by his side.

You make your way to a fenced in clearing where dozens of people are playing with their pups, each engrossed in their own spheres of jubilation. The microcosms before you serve as a testament to the bond that each human shares with their pet, their precious and irreplaceable family members.

As you enter the field with Kiba you unhook Akamaru's leash from his collar. Kiba hollers out a brisk, "Let's go, Akamaru," as he runs across the grassy meadow with reckless abandon.

You decide to sit down on a nearby boulder and watch the two of them frolic together, your heart filling with joy as each passing second ticks by. You're not sure how long they spend playing together, and you honestly wouldn't care if your entire day consisted of this. The bliss you feel from watching your love as happy as he can be is all you could ever ask for.

The sun continues its journey across the sky, its rays filling your cheeks with a radiant warmth as it illuminates the world before you. You see Kiba and Akamaru scampering in your direction, drawing closer with each mirthful stride. You hear the damp earth squelch under their treads as they make their way to your side once more.

"Whew, what a workout," Kiba pants as he plops down next to you on the boulder. "I think I'm about ready to move onto the next area now. I got all of my cardio in for the day."

"We'll have to leash Akamaru again. Are you okay with that?" you ask Kiba while tenderly nudging some of the long, slightly moist strands of dark brown hair stuck to the sides of face.

"Yeah, I think we've had our fun for today. Right, Akamaru?" As Kiba looks over to Akamaru he's greeted by a spirited bark.

"He wants to see more of the park too," Kiba petitions with an imploring pout.

"Alright, if you insist. Let's get going then," you announce as you stand up, brushing the accumulated dust off of your clothes. "There's some beautiful architecture around here that I'm dying to show you."

"Sounds good to me, your explanations can make even the most boring slabs of rocks appear cool," he clamorously laughs as he fastens Akamaru's leash once more.

Oh yeah, you made the right decision by not taking him to the Metropolitan Museum of Art today.

You leave the field hand in hand with Akamaru by your side, directing Kiba's attention to the marvelous statues decorating the nearby surroundings.

Kiba feigns understanding when you attempt to explain the meaning behind the art. As you start elucidating him about Ludwig van Beethoven's life and renowned works Kiba responds with, "Well if this song is supposedly super famous, why is it called 'Symphony Number 5' instead of 'Symphony Number 1'?"

You make a mental note to scratch every museum off of your itinerary once you get back to the hotel. You were an absolute fool to think that for even a fraction, an iota of a second that Kiba would appreciate the masterpieces, the veritable magnum opuses of all time, in the same way that you would. It was best to enjoy those treasures on your own time.

This was fine, though, you each had your own interests and were your own person. It wasn't healthy to lose your own sense of self and personality when you were dating someone else, so a part of you was actually grateful that you shared many differences with Kiba. A core tenant of intimacy is being able to appreciate the idiosyncrasies and distinguishing characteristics of your partner without being engulfed by them.

"And over here is the Naumburg Bandshell, it's a famous amphitheater where free classical concerts have been performed for the last century," you say as you point towards the magnificent building standing before you.

Kiba tries his best to appear as though he understands what you're trying to explain, but you could see that his focus was waning. You decide to change things up a bit as you offer up a scintillating panacea to the humdrum afflicting his psyche. "Hey, why don't we walk down by the water next? The Bethesda Fountain is simply gorgeous, and there's a great view I'd love to show you."

"I've already got a great view right here," Kiba says with a conceited smirk on his face.

"Oh hush, you." You squeeze his hand with just enough force to let him know you didn't appreciate his jest.

"But yeah, that's a great proposition. That's my princess for you, she's always got the best ideas!" Kiba's eyes beam with a sparkling effervescence as he looks over at you.

As you make your way closer to the Bethesda Terrace, a procession of horse drawn carriages pass in front of you. You can see that Kiba is mystified by the strange occurrence, his mouth agape as he stands there speechless by your side.

"Oh yeah, I guess this is your first time seeing a cavalcade like this in person. Horses aren't as widely used in Konoha, after all." You look over to see that Kiba's eyes are fixated on one particular carriage nearby. A gorgeous white horse is at the fore of the carriage, lavender and cream coloured flowers adorning the vehicle with an unparalleled vibrance. The velvety seats enticing you with their plum flavored splendor.

"C'mon tiger, you don't even want to know how expensive a ride in one of those is," you say as you gently tug on Kiba's arm before continuing, "Besides, there's a more private location I wanted to show you."

That was all Kiba needed to hear. Without missing a beat he turns around as you walk down the enormous flight of stairs to the bustling plaza area.

You're welcomed with a surprisingly euphonious cacophony consisting of the hubbub of folks peddling their wares, musicians ardently strumming their instruments, children playfully skipping and exploring their surroundings, and other captivated tourists such as yourselves. You see a married couple taking their wedding photos next to the Bethesda Fountain. The sight can't help but put a smile on your face as you fantasize what your own wedding day with Kiba will be like.

As you promenade around the fountain with a leisurely gait, admiring the elegant and opulent Angel of the Waters statue, you squeeze Kiba's hand ever so slightly to grab his attention.

"This fountain right here? It commemorates the opening of the Croton Aqueduct. Back in the 1800s it was a pretty big deal since the aqueduct brought the first fresh water into the city."

"So it's because of this lady that you guys have bugs in your water?" Kiba inquires with an amused look on his face.

"For the last time they're crustaceans, not bugs. But yes, she's a symbol of the healing power of clean and fresh water." you say as you shake your head in exasperation.

"What's her number? I'm sure Shino would just love to meet a bug lady," Kiba jives as he tries to repress the laughter inextricably building up in his core.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that," you utter in a hushed tone as you continue your voyage around the plaza.

You're greeted by a positively resplendent lake as you finish your trek in the piazza. Verdant hues of green bounce off of the water's surface and nuzzle the cones of your eyes with their virid embrace. Dozens of couples are sitting in rowboats, enjoying their own little slice of heaven as the autumn breeze cavorts indiscriminately throughout the park.

You take a minute to appreciate the view before Kiba offers up a suggestion, "Do you think they allow dogs on those boats?"

"Sadly, they don't. But we can always come back here another time. C'mon the best is yet to come. I need to show you my favourite spot," you assert as you haul Kiba away from the pond, breaking his enchantment with some help from a quick peck on the cheek.

"At least we can walk around the Loeb Boathouse on the way. Actually, we'll have a pretty good view of the rowboats once we make it there." It's true, the vantage point that awaited you was a glorious and secluded perch, an oasis of peace and tranquility that persisted despite being surrounded by the chaos of the city.

After passing the boathouse you signal to Kiba to take a left turn onto a dirt path. It's a rather unassuming route, in fact it barely resembled a pathway at all. Kiba shoots a perplexed look in your direction, but he's met with a nod of assurance that assuages his lingering doubt.

"We're almost there," you assure him in a comforting tone.

As you shrewdly climb over the winding tree roots, employing a moderate amount of astute judgment with each step you take, you feel Kiba's grip tighten around your hand as he catches himself before almost tumbling to the ground. You help him maintain his balance before letting out a lighthearted taunt, "Looks like you'll be the one falling for me today."

"You got me there. You win this time, princess." He would normally be a little more miffed at your teasing, but today was a special occasion.

"Anddd, we're here," you proclaim as you push away a few stray tree boughs, clearing your line of sight with an upbeat flourish.

The view that awaited you filled your very soul with an incomparable ebullience, the likes of which you hadn't experienced in years. The vibrant flora, dyed with a multitude of vivid pigments, evoking an insipid sense of both wonder and despondence. The neverending cycle of death and rebirth reflected in the simple elegance of the humble vegetation that dotted the landscape before you.

Why must life always be at its most beautiful right before it ends, a silent inquiry floats in your mind as you admire the leaves fluttering in the zephyrs. Or maybe it's because life ends that we can appreciate the transient resplendence that envelops all living beings.

The dichotomy of the lush trees juxtaposed with the skyscrapers off in the distance gives you chills. The tops of the buildings kiss the afternoon sky with their steely indifference, in stark contrast to the rich verdure, an effluence of life and vitality holding on with a tight grip. It was still early into the season, and the blissfully unaware plants around you exuded an infectious zest for life.

"Wow," is the only thing Kiba manages to murmur as the two of you stand together, enjoying the view.

"Why don't we sit down and enjoy some lunch?" you suggest as you rustle in your bag for the bentos that you prepared last night during your bout of insomnia.

"I'd love to, princess!" You can hear the excitement in Kiba's voice as he graciously accepts your offer.

You elegantly place a blanket down, gingerly putting the bento boxes on top of it before standing back up and beckoning Kiba to come closer. As he draws nearer you reach out your arm, placing it around his back and pulling him in so that you can plant a smooch on his cheek. How many seconds did you leave your lips there? 10? 30? Time has no meaning when you're spending it enraptured by your lover's presence.

Kiba put his arms around your waist, embracing you with a lascivious greediness that you were all too familiar with. As you draw your face back and look into his glistening eyes you could see the salacious undertones in his visage.

You finally had a moment of respite from the crowds, the throngs of people that were an irrefutable fact of the city, so why not give into temptation a little bit?

You lead the charge by placing one of your hands behind Kiba's head so you could push his face a little closer to your own. You then seductively press your lips against his with a passionate fervor. He returns your efforts in spades by forcing his tongue into your mouth, tickling your gums at a rhythmical pace. He traces the outlines of your teeth with his tongue while bringing one of his arms up further on your back so he can squeeze you closer to his chest.

You can't help but let a few erotic moans escape from your core as you desperately try to hold onto your sense of propriety. You are in a public park, after all.

Kiba then releases your lips from his own so that he can redirect his attention to your neck. He knows how sensitive you are there, and he can't help but arouse your lust by using his expertise regarding your intimate intricacies against you. After a brisk crack of his neck he swoops in with a carnal ferocity and begins sucking and nibbling on your neck.

You can barely contain yourself at this point, choosing to relinquish any remnants of discretion you had left. Your nails vigorously claw at the skin of his back, leaving scarlet marks in their wake. He reciprocates your zeal by pressing his canines into your soft and supple flesh with enough force to draw blood. You could feel the dizziness that accompanied the sensation of blood loss overtake your consciousness, you find yourself drifting helplessly in the red sea of emotion. Kiba pridefully stands at the helm, navigating your vessel any which way he sees fit.

You absolutely loved the feeling of being putty in Kiba's strong hands, loved it when he molded you into the breathtaking muse of his deepest desires. The varnish that you cloaked yourself in most days was all too easily expunged by his charisma and inexplicable charm.

As Kiba continues to gnaw on your neck the burning pressure building up inside of you becomes unbearable. You can't stop yourself from whimpering out his name, "Ki-kiba."

He temporarily stops the assault on your neck to whisper in your ear, "I love it when you say my name, princess."

At this point you were seeing shimmering stars in your vision, an aural migraine consisting of squiggles waltzing amongst the leaves in an unrelenting deluge. It couldn't be helped, every time Kiba stimulated your corporeal desires you could feel the frenzy overtaking your psyche. There was nothing that could be done, so you might as well enjoy the ride.

Kiba returns his focus to your neck once more, this time channeling his energy into sucking rather than biting. You could feel the damp sensation of his saliva as it mixed with the droplets of your blood. Audible slurps mixed with the canorous howls of pleasure saturated your eardrums and satiated your indecent cravings with the sweetest ambrosia.

As he releases your skin from its prurient penitentiary he takes a minute to admire the rather huge and splotchy hickey you were now sporting. "Good," he simpers with a self-satisfied grin, "Now everyone will know that you're spoken for."

Kiba always did have a thing for marking you, and honestly, you were into it too. Wearing his love and adoration for you on your very flesh was such a turn on. If you weren't in public you might have asked him to partake in a little mid-afternoon watersports with you, but that could be saved for later. Oh right, you were in public.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind you heard the footsteps of someone approaching, no it was two people. Another couple saunters past Kiba and you, causing you to hide your flushed face by pressing it into Kiba's chest. Kiba chuckles a little bit when he sees how flustered you are.

"You're so fuckin' cute when you blush." You could hear a guffaw vibrating in his chest as he said those words.

"S-s-shut up," is all that you manage to stutter out.

You honestly wish you could stay like this forever in his arms, but you were unceremoniously interrupted by the rather embarrassing rumblings of your stomach.

"What's that, princess? Don't tell me you're hungry." The lighthearted jest deepens the crimson hue that was overwhelming your cheeks. You aren't able to give a response to Kiba because of your current predicament. Instead you choose to bury your face even further into his chest.

After around a minute or so like this Kiba gently takes a step back and crouches down a bit so he's closer to your level. "Whaddya say we have some lunch, princess?" he asks in a mild and soothing tone. You're able to squeak out a meager, "Mhm," as you shake your head in accordance. 

You sit down next to Kiba, cozying up next to him as you hand him one of the bento boxes. As he opens it up he has the biggest grin on his face.

"Wow, you made all this just for me?" he remarks smugly, already knowing the answer to his rhetorical question.

Another "Mhm," escapes your lips as you try to avert your sheepish gaze, a sincere but futile attempt at modesty. The man knows everything about you, there's no reason to be so timid right now. Maybe it was because there was an audience right now, but the other couple was on the far side of the boulder, and they were too busy making out to pay heed to anything else. You were merely giving yourself excuses to not give into your temptation.

A quick bite to your bottom lip helps you snap out of  your daze. If you were going to make your move, this would be the perfect time. You can't let your reservations hold you back, not on today of all days.

"Hey Kiba," you manage to blurt out, "do you want me to maybe... feed you?"

"Feed me?" Kiba repeats with an astonished yet pleased look on his face, "You're damned right I want you to feed me." After a short pause he follows up with, "Wow, you're being so forward today, princess. Gotta say, I'm digging the vibes."

That sassy leer on his face was all of the affirmation that you needed. You could already tell what he was going to say before a single word was uttered from those gorgeous lips of his.

"Alright then," you instruct Kiba as you grab your chopsticks and pick up an octopus weiner, "say 'Ah.'"

"Ahhh~" the whimsical manner in which he responds can't help but make you chortle a smidge as he chomps down on the flavorful morsel that you so diligently prepared earlier this morning.

A few more bites and now it's time for the rolled omelette. You made today's batch extra sweet because you know that's how he likes it even if he swears to the contrary. You intersperse some white rice in between his mouthfuls of omelette to mix things up a bit. The next thing on the menu is a delicious salad you tossed together with some walnuts, almonds, and cranberries. This is always Kiba's least favourite part of lunch, but you purposefully added a few different textures in there so he won't protest as much as usual.

To your surprise, he gobbles everything down with a voracious  appetite, savoring every crumb of food, even the grains of rice. If only he'd clean his plate like this when you were back at home.

"Mmm," he moans with a euphoric expression on his face, "my compliments to the chef."

"Now are you ready for your dessert?" you seductively wink as you proposition your man.

"There's more?" he responded with a curious inflection in his voice, "Of course I'm fuckin' ready, let's go, baybee."

You let out a flirtatious giggle as you hold up your index finger to your lips. "Shhh, it's a secret. You'll just have to wait and see what I have in store."

"Ugh. You're such a little vixen, you know that?" he shoots back at you, emphasizing his frustration at your provocations.

"Yeah, I know." You stick out your tongue, your index finger perched on your chin now while you relish in your brattiness, "It'll be that much sweeter the longer you have to wait, trust me."

"So fuckin' naughty," he shakes his head a bit, but his genuine intrigue stops him from complaining too much.

The dearth of objections emboldens your resolve. You decide to give another saucy response to Kiba, "If you're a good boy today, I'll add a little cherry on top of your dessert."

"Now you're talkin' my language, princess," he says as he reaches over to claw at the skin on your exposed thighs with his sharp nails.

"But first, I think it's time for my lunch." You were so caught up with feeding Kiba you completely neglected to eat any of your own bento.

"How's about I reciprocate 'n feed ya, then?" Kiba stressed his syllables in the word "reciprocate," trying his hardest to pronounce the word correctly. You appreciate his efforts, even if he sounds a tad silly at times.

"I'd love that, actually," you reply while handing your bento box over to him.

"Alright, here comes the train say 'choo choo'." Kiba lifts up some of the rice along with one of the octopus weiners with the chopsticks and brings it closer to your mouth.

You respond with a "When leaving the train, please watch the gap," in a robotic voice before taking a bite of the culinary creation. With your mouth partially full you chuckle, "Sorry, it's a Jersey girl thing."

"I'll never get tired of your silly jokes, even if I don't quite understand them. Oh, what's this? It looks like you got a little something over here, let me just..." Kiba says as he leans in and licks the corner of your mouth, pressing his tongue further and further in with each passing second. It looks like what you're actually hungry for today isn't on the menu. You let yourself give into the temptation as you run your fingers through his luscious locks and return his kiss with a passionate and fiery reckless abandon.

You leisurely cuddle with Kiba from the comfort of your secluded refuge for quite a long while before deciding that it's about time you make good on your promise. He's spent this past hour playing with your hair while periodically sniffing it, massaging your shoulders gently, and dragging his nails softly over your thick thighs, occasionally licking your neck when the mood strikes.

You wish you could stay like this for eternity, but there's still more you want to show him, so you muster up the motivation to pack up your empty bento boxes as you turn your body slightly to face him.

"I think it's almost time for dessert, you in?" you enquire with a salacious beckon of your finger.

"Hell yeah, I'm in!" Before you knew it the blanket and bento boxes were packed neatly away into your bag. If Kiba had a puppy dog tail it'd be wagging with so much unbridled enthusiasm that it would very well knock you right off your feet and into the lake. Thankfully, the only dog you had to concern yourself with today was Akamaru. He spent the past hour napping closeby, curled up a meter or so away from Kiba.

 "Let's get going!" you exclaim as a sudden wave of confidence washes over you and you pump your fist into the air triumphantly.

Hand in hand once more, you lead Kiba back to the clandestine pathway and out to the main road. You take a few turns before arriving at The Ramble, a section of Central Park that you absolutely adored because of its rustic and scenic charm.

There were so many winding paths to choose from, it was hard to decide which one to follow first. You knew the general direction that you wanted to go in, so you let lady luck be your guiding light as you arbitrarily turned left then right before making one final left at the fork in the road. The beauty of Central Park was that all of these paths were connected, so there were no wrong decisions to be made.

This endless maze of wonder fascinates you to no end. You could easily spend all day traversing these meandering trails, engrossed in the splendor of nature. No doubt you would leave fulfilled and fully satisfied after a long walk through these woods, but you had a guest today who was not as easily gratified. As you pass over a quaint wooden bridge you're greeted by the comforting sounds of flowing water from a nearby brook.

You decide that this is the perfect time to slow down your pace a bit before coming to a standstill, Kiba mimicking your stride and stopping by your side as you bring his attention to the gigantic boulder standing before you. 

"Race you to the top?" you ask as you glance over, looking for affirmation despite already knowing what his response will be.

"Oh it's on, princess." Kiba answered without a moment's hesitation. You could see his body stiffen ever so slightly as he begins to prepare himself for the sprint of a lifetime. You loosen your grip on Kiba's hand as it tenderly floats away.

You ready yourself by inhaling slowly through your nose and out through your mouth before lightly slapping your cheeks with your hands. You tense up the muscles in your legs and core, shifting your focus from Kiba to the finish line. You spiritedly call out a "3, 2, 1.... GO!" and with that you're both off.

You can see Kiba being extra flashy on purpose, jumping from the nearby tree branches no doubt in an attempt to impress you. You decide to concentrate your efforts on finding the shortest path to your destination, being mindful of the obstacles in your way. You easily hop over the small rocks jutting out of the ground, a few steps to the right and you're able to avoid that low hanging tree branch. A counter clockwise 45 degree turn and the home stretch descends upon you with a breakneck velocity.

As you take the last steps before you reach your goal Kiba drops down from a nearby tree bough, swiping victory out of your grasp with one final, vehement thud as the full weight of his body lands on the rock with an impressive amount of force. He vigorously throws his hands up to do a little victory pose while you take a moment to catch your breath.

"You," you take a second to inhale before continuing your statement, "You win, Kiba."

"Of course I win. Now where's my prize?" Kiba nudges you as he shoots you an expectant gaze.

"Right here," you say as you leap up to give him an affectionate hug. He catches you in his arms and hoists your legs up so he can princess carry you. You place one of your arms around the back of his neck, resting your hand on his shoulder blade. You then close your eyes shut and pucker your lips before you're greeted by the unmistakable feeling of his lips fondly pressing against your own. After a few seconds he begins to slide his tongue into your mouth, filling it once again with his succulent saliva. You can't help but squeal with delight when one of his hands finds its way to your breast, stroking it with a rhythmical tempo.

You can feel the heat build up inside your core once again as Kiba continues to fondle you while you squirm in pleasure. Oh, how dearly you wish that he would go one step farther right now. You can feel a wet spot begin to form in your crotch as he continues his onslaught. No, you couldn't let your wanton desires get the best of you, not in public. But there was still that part of you that wanted this to not only carry on, but escalate into something even more licentious.

As you wriggle in Kiba's arms you manage to free yourself from his smooches long enough to let out a, "Ki-kiba, we're still in public! What if someone sees us?"

He withdraws his troops when he hears your feeble cries of protest, responding with a "Sorry, you're just so fuckin' cute, I can't help myself."

You flash a superficial pout at him as you try to redirect his attention by saying, "You know what else is cute? This view. Take a look over there."

You could see the lake from earlier poking through the gaps in the lush vegetation that surrounded you. There were still a decent number of couples enjoying boat rides together, but the sun was past its apex in the sky and the slightest tinge of twilight began to overtake the sky. The brilliant yellows and oranges vibrate with a staunch temerity as they hang onto the trees for dear life while the cool autumn breezes assails their stalks. The handsome architecture of the buildings in the distance made for a lovely sight when compared with the contrasting abundance of nature filling the foreground.

"I don't know if I'd call it 'cute,' but the view sure is nice," Kiba replies before shifting his focus back to you. "But the best view? It's right here in my arms."

"Oh stop, hon. You're making me blush," you chirp as you unsuccessfully try to conceal your flushed cheeks with your hand.

 "Awww, don't cover up your pretty little face from me. C'mon, I wanna see all of my girl." Kiba flashes you a warm smile that makes it feel as if you're melting in real time, disintegrating into a puddle of emotions.

If a stranger saw you right now you'd probably die from the sheer embarrassment.

It takes you a while, but you're finally able to give Kiba a response that will both satisfy him and rescue you from your current predicament. "See all of me? Well we better get going if you want that wish to come true."

That was all you needed to say. Kiba lovingly brings your legs down so you can hop to the ground. You then grab his hand with a precise and swift motion before intertwining your fingers together once more. With great haste, the two of you continue the last leg of your journey.

"Alright, so you're going to absolutely love this final location." Just thinking about the breathtaking view from the top of the castle you were planning on taking Kiba to sends a shiver down your spine.

"As long as I'm with you, any place is amazin'." You could hear the sincerity oozing out of his voice as he spoke those words.

"So, where I'm taking you is actually the second highest point in all of Central Park. The building there was designed to be a lookout tower, and it was even used as a weather station at one point. It's hard to explain how incredible the Belvedere is with just words, but you'll understand what I mean when you see it for yourself." You do your best to explain about Belvedere Castle without letting it slip that it's actually a castle. You know that Kiba will absolutely lose his mind and start calling you 'princess' incessantly when he realizes the truth.

As you approach the Belvedere and you're able to catch glimpses of its stony façade you brace yourself for the inevitable comments that are sure to follow. You could almost see the neurons in Kiba's brain firing extra hard when he comprehends just where you took him.

"Is that... a castle?" The incredulous tone in his voice was like a mellifluous symphony to your ears.

"Yes, yes it is." Your reply is filled with a smug self-assurance, growing stronger by the second.

"Princess, you just brought me to a castle? I can't believe my princess brought me to an actual castle. I don't know what I was expecting, but this was not it." Kiba, paralyzed by his bewilderment, holds his hand up to his dazed face, too stunned to do or say anything else until he hears your voice. "Yup, welcome to Belvedere castle, the pièce de résistance of our date today."

You take a second to admire the flabbergasted look on his face before continuing, "C'mere, you gotta see this view!"

You pull Kiba a little closer to your body, guiding him to the lookout area. "Over there is Turtle Pond. There are five different species of turtles that call this pond their home. Some of the turtles are actually former pets and are considered invasive species. It's not winter yet, but when it gets colder out the turtles burrow into the mud at the bottom of Turtle Pond."

"So you guys have turtles and bugs living in the water here?" Kiba was able to shake off his befuddlement with some assistance from your long-winded explanations. For once, your propensity to being unnecessarily verbose came in handy when it came to dealing with Kiba.

"For the last time they're not bugs, they're crustaceans!" You would be more upset with Kiba if you weren't so relieved that he was back to his usual self.

"Anyways, wow, now I know why you were hyping up this park so much. It's absolutely stunning. Almost more impressive than me, ah hah ha. Almost." Kiba let out a roaring, boisterous howl as you can't help but smile at your boyfriend's rather stale and contrived witticisms.

"Y'know what would be even better though?" Kiba releases his hand from yours and starts stroking the hairs on his chin with a glint in his eyes.

"Hm?"

"If we snuck up to the top of the castle and had our own private viewing session," Kiba said while giving you a lewd wink.

"But what about Akamaru?" you reach for any excuse to not give into the temptation.

"Akamaru will be fine by himself. Won'tcha, buddy?" Akamaru barks out a somewhat tired yet affirmative yelp. He lazily meanders over to a corner next to the castle and curls up in a comfortable position.

Drat. There goes your only valid excuse.

"Well that settles that." You could see a wicked grin forming on Kiba's face. "May I have the honor of one final dance with my princess this evening?"

You hesitantly extend your hand once more while shaking your head languidly in consent.

"But how are we going to get up ther- '' Your words are cut short by Kiba promptly sweeping you up into his arms, deftly maneuvering your body until he's princess carrying you yet again.

"You don't have to worry your pretty little head about that. I got it." A boastful roar erupts from his chest as he effortlessly cavorts around the castle to the back side, all while holding onto you with a virulent amount of hubris. A few confident leaps later and you're both on the roof of the castle.

He carefully puts you down, but only after passionately kissing your neck in the same spot where the dappled mixture of ribald reds and indecent purples endure with a risqué persistence. A stifled moan escapes your lips during this debacle with debauchery. Kiba's keen sense of hearing is omniscient, there's no way you can lead him astray while you're mewling like a cat in heat.

"Damn, you weren't kidding. This has gotta be the best view in this whole damned park." Kiba ogles at your body through the rectangle he's made with his thumbs and index fingers, pretending as if he were a famous artist getting ready to paint his muse.

"A little to the left, anddd perfect." A sly smirk emerges on his face as he slowly undresses you with his intense stare, deliberately and unhurriedly devouring your scrumptious curves with his eyes.

If there was any time to act, it would be now. You decide to discard your dignity and throw any remnants of your sense of decorum off the rooftop and into Turtle Pond as you offer up a flirtatious, "I know what will make this view even better."

"Oh, and what's that? Pray tell, princess." The sultry tone in which he says those words makes your heart flutter in pure, unadulterated ecstacy.

"Y'see, I'm feeling a bit stuffy in this dress," it's true you were feeling hot and bothered, "I could use a little help if you don't min-"

Before you could finish your proposal Kiba was already clawing at the tulle on your poofy halter dress, untying the straps with an unparalleled, feral intensity. As the straps haphazardly fall to your sides Kiba ravenously lifts the skirt portion of your dress over your head with one hasty but fluid motion. The rose gold garment is then unceremoniously tossed to the side as Kiba shifts his focus to your lusciously appetizing bare breasts. You never did like wearing bras, especially when there wasn't that much that needed support anyways.

"No bra again, princess? I love to see it. Or rather, not see it." Kiba begins to suggestively lick his lips as he rubs his hands together while emitting a mischievously naughty growl.

As your dress cascades to the ground next to you, let out a hedonistic chortle as you tempt Kiba with a, "Ready for your dessert, sugar?"

"D'ya even have to ask? Of course I'm ready," Kiba snarls those words in your ear as he slithers his hand down your body, stopping at your pelvic region. "I think there's just one more preparation we have to make first."

You place your own hand on top of his and guide him as he hooks his thumb under the waistband of your panties, stepping out of them gracefully as he yanks at the flimsy cotton with a carnal brutality. He brings the cloth up to his face to take a whiff before flinging them off to the side with an unrestrained fervour.

You then take a few steps back so you can perch yourself on a nearby wooden crate. You beckon to him with an alluring gesture, your index finger slightly twitching from all of the excitement. "This evening we'll be starting with a mouthwatering vegan friendly delicacy, followed up by the most delectable creampie."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" The inferno burning in Kiba's eyes scorches through every fibre of your being with its intensity, leaving a wasteland of charred and overloaded neurons in its wake.

"It sure does. Bon appétit, mon amour."

Kiba strides over with a heightened sense of purpose and bellows out a brisk, "Itadakimasu!" before shovelling his tongue into your quivering folds. With a gluttonous gusto he begins to greedily lap up your juices, savouring every drop. You whine in pleasure as he swirls his tongue in messy circles around your clit. The warmth building up in your core overtakes your sense of judgement as you helplessly squirm under the weight of his tongue, your panting becomes more audible by the second.

Kiba magnanimously decides to offer you a short reprieve when he temporarily halts his bombardment on your labia, looking up at you for confirmation, "You ready for the second course, princess?"

You're not quite able to form complete sentences right now, but you are able to give him a brisk nod along with a bashful, "Yes, pleaseee."

This time he brings his hand up to your trembling lips, stroking them with tender caresses as he expertly works his tongue into your vaginal opening. His fingers instinctively find your clit without hesitation, a light but purposeful touch that stimulates every cell in your being with an electrifying impulse. You have to admit, his dexterity is honestly amazing. No other guy you've been with before knows your body the way Kiba does.

You can feel the heat radiating throughout your entire body as Kiba continues to slurp up your slick, the fluids from your body intermingling with his saliva and morphing into a crude concoction of lustful desire. As you feel the indescribable pressure begin to build up, your whimpers begin to compound until you find yourself uncontrollably moaning his name.

"Kibaaa." The syllables escaping your lips are the sweetest honey, the most delicious topping on his dessert that he could ever ask for.

He pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper, every moan that he hears encouraging him to explore more of your cavern. He also stealthily increases the pressure he's applying against your clit the more you squirm. After all, every action must have an equal and opposite reaction, it's a basic principle of physics that applies even to this situation. You can't blame him for responding the way he does when you can't even think straight right now, your mind overrun with lascivious cravings.

"Kiba. Kibaaa," is all you manage to cry out as he takes a brief pause to reply in kind.

"Mmm, say my name again, princess. It drives me absolutely wild."

"I'm so close, Kiba, please don't stop." The urgency in your voice ignites an infernal blaze that can't be expunged until Kiba witnesses your full and complete satisfaction firsthand. A real gentleman always pleases his lady first.

Kiba nods to you in acknowledgement as he takes a moment to lick your juices off of his fingers before pressing his face down once more into your succulent folds. The sensation of his tongue massaging your clit causes the pressure inside of you to build up to critical levels. You don't know how much more of this you can handle before you pass the point of no return. While brushing your clit with measured strokes Kiba brings up his hand one more time and slowly inserts two fingers into your vagina. He steadily increases the frequency of his caresses, tickling your sensitive walls with a sublime proficiency.

"Ahhh, ahhh. Mmm." is all that you're able to mumble.

As his pace quickens, so does your breathing. You're holding onto the last shred of your composure with a single frayed thread that is dangerously close to breaking. All it would take is one final push and- you were unable to complete that thought because at that very moment Kiba pulsated his fingers against your G-spot. Again, there is it. He keeps on pressing up against it. The stimulation becomes too much to handle. You can feel the pressure overpower your senses as you let a tsunami of euphoria wash over you.

Kiba, feeling your throbbing vagina twitch around his fingers, knows that his task is complete. He lets out a "gochisousama deshita," before lifting up his face up to meet your gaze, enjoying every bit of your blissed out expression.

"So good..." you exhale as you feel a wave of peace fill envelop your soul, swathing it with an incomparable serenity.

"I love it when I get to see you like this," Kiba says as he brushes a few strands of hair out of your eyes. "Nothing makes me feel better than making my girl feel like the princess she is."

"Hehe~," you chuckle as you hold Kiba's hand against your cheek, etching this moment into your memory. This was definitely the best place for your first date in the city.

As you push yourself off of the wooden crate you were using for support, you offer up one final suggestion for the evening, "Round two?"

"You don't even have to ask, princess. Let's do this." Kiba moves his hand from your cheek down to your waist and tenderly spins you around so that your rear is facing him. He always was an ass-man. While other men tended to focus on your breasts, or lack thereof, Kiba was all about the "finer things in life." He couldn't resist digging his claws into your behind and taking small nibbles whenever he gave you rim jobs. Seeing him appreciate your assets so enthusiastically thrilled you to no end.

But a rim job wasn't on the menu for today. That's right, there was only one dessert that would sate Kiba's wolfish hunger. The most passionate dessert that a couple can share. And what's more romantic than sharing some creampie while admiring the New York City skyline as the sun sets over the horizon?

"You ready, princess?" You could hear Kiba shuffle around a bit before being greeted by the familiar feeling of the fur trim of his jacket as it brushes against your ankles.

"Fuck yeah, let's do this," you exclaim as you give him a thumbs-up. You weren't able to see his expression since you were facing away from him, but you can imagine the smug look on his face as he slides his rock hard dick into your warm and inviting pussy.

You were already unbelievably wet from your orgasm, so his cock slides in with relative ease. As soon as his dick enters you, a feeling of exhilaration radiates throughout your entire body. With each thrust it feels as if your souls are resonating with each other. The connection you feel when your bodies are this close together is beyond compare, there's nothing else like it in the world.

A few more gyrations of his hips and you become putty once more in his hands. You can feel your essence being molded by the passionate thumps from his cock. Your vagina quivers with excitement as it welcomes every inch of his member into its drenched oasis. The air around you is filled with the squelching sounds of Kiba's dick as it explores your private grotto with reckless abandon.

Kiba periodically quickens and then slows down his pace in order to keep you on your toes. He knows that the variation will drive you absolutely bonkers, and he wants to hear you beg, plead him for more. He purposely slows down the frequency of his thrusts just so he can hear you say it. C'mon aren't you going to say it?

"Kiba," you whimper while holding onto the wooden crate in front of you, "I need more. Give me more. Faster."

And there it is.

"As you command, princess," he happily obliges. Oh, if only you could see his face right now.

Kiba hastens his pace, thrusting into you with a tremendous amount of force. His dick pounds on the inside of your walls as they sway with delight. It feels so good to have him inside of you, especially without a condom. The unrivalled feeling of his dickhead brush against your delicate walls enthralled you beyond words. The sensation of his penis twitching inside you when he came was the greatest feeling in the world.

Normally you'd have to worry about carrying protection with you at all times, but since you were sterilized earlier this year that was one less thing you'd have to concern yourself with. It also meant you could afford to be more spontaneously promiscuous, which drove Kiba absolutely feral. The first night you had sex after recovering from surgery was one of the most passionate lovemaking sessions the both of you ever had. Kiba could see how comfortable you were in your own body after your hysterectomy, and that turned him into a savage, untamed beast when the two of you were alone.

But here you are now, totally not alone. In the middle of Central Park. Fucking your boyfriend.

What have you become? Where was the demure and studious girl who would rather spend her evenings at home instead of galavanting around with a jock who can't even pronounce the word "etiquette", let alone practice it? Have you no shame? I guess you must have tossed that aside when you first started dating Kiba. He always did have a way of bringing out your undomesticated side, you were a girl who secretly wanted to embrace her inner wildcat and just go berserk from time to time. And what's wilder than exhibitionism?

"Umph," you hear Kiba moan from behind you, "I'm getting close, princess."

This was always your favourite part of having sex with Kiba. The moment where your vagina milks him, absorbing every last drop of his cum. This time you felt a little different than usual, though. How long has it been since you last peed? Hours? You did go at the bagel shop, but that was during the morning.

Oh gosh, you think to yourself, he's totally going to make me squirt today. Fuck, I can't believe this is happening to me.

Kiba continues to thrust into you as you feel the intense pressure of your full bladder compound on top of the heat building up inside of your pelvis. Every time he brushes up inside of you, your muscles begin to clench involuntarily. You inch closer and closer to losing control with every gyration of his hips. He slaps your ass a few times before continuing his thrusting.

Kiba then grabs the back of your ponytail so he can bring your neck a little closer to his mouth. When his canines tickle the hickey on your neck you're no longer able to restrain the torrent of warm urine, letting a golden shower rain down on Kiba's jacket. The sensation of wetting yourself sends you over the edge and your walls begin to instinctively clench up as a surge of ecstacy ripples throughout your entire body.

Kiba then lets out a tremendous groan as his dick twitches inside of you and begins ejaculating sticky cum into your vagina, filling it up to the brim. A bit of his cum oozes out of you, mixing with a few droplets of piss as the medley of immorality slides down your legs, a remnant of your grievous sin.

You can hear Kiba exhale deeply as you slowly turn yourself around.

"Sorry about your jacket, I didn't realize until it was too late that I hadn't peed since the morning and-"

Kiba picks up his soiled jacket from the ground and sniffs it with a satisfied look on his face, "Mmm, smells just like my princess."

He puts a hand on your shoulder as he says, "Don't worry about it. I'll just have to use my dynamic marking on you when we get back to the hotel."

No matter how indecent you thought you were, you could always take solace in the fact that Kiba had you beat. This man was always full of surprises, and you couldn't deny that you loved him, not in spite of his degeneracy, but rather for it.

As you pick up your clothes strewn about the castle's roof Kiba quips at you one last time, "So since you drank the water here does that mean your piss had bugs in it?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Shrimp aren't bugs, they're crustaceans."

You can hear his roaring laughter echoing with that self-assured arrogance that you loved oh so much, even if you'd never admit it. We can't fuel his ego too much now, can we? 

----- The End -----

[hello-nichya-here]

Girl.... Imma need all the tea abt Michael's brothers being leaches.

I do remember that one of them said that there wouldn't be no Michael Jackson without Jackson 5. BFFR. omg.

Just look at Spotify monthly listeners. I tend to compare artists who debuted at the same time and if they are still alive or not.

Marlon Jackson: 945

Jackie Jackson: 1'180

Tito Jackson: 15'148

Jermaine Jackson: 771'648

The Jacksons: 2'862'021

The Jackson 5: 8'607'046

Michael Jackson: 43'067'506

I know Spotify listeners aren't everything in terms of success or talent. Just look how Selena Gomez supposedly has more than Beyonce. But here I mean the gap is huge.

And the fact they NEEDED him for the Victory Tour otherwise no one would have showed up.

...Anon, I'm gonna be honest here, I completely forgot Jermaine wasn't the only of MJ's brothers to try and have his own solo career. And it says a lot that even though he was the most sucessful of MJ's brothers, he was nowhere near as relevant as he wanted to be - let alone as relevant as Michael.

Also, I know that showbusiness is cruel, especially to child stars, and the music industry is super unfair and buries really talented artists while promoting others that are not even good - but lets not kid ourselves here.

Like you said, the very fact that they had to drag him into that tour to make it relevant already says a lot - but there's even more to that. Michael decided, on his own, that this was going to be the LAST tour, and announced it at the last concert, without discussing it with anyone. He didn't just quit, he essentially ended the group.

They tried to carry on without him a few years later, and it went nowhere because nobody cared about them if Michael wasn't there. Meanwhile, he had random dancers/back-up singers stand in for his brothers whenever he'd ocasionally perform "his" old songs, and nobody except their mom ever complained. I strongly suspect some people didn't even notice - first time I watched some of the performances of the Bad Era, I sure didn't.

They had a reunion in 2001 - in some concerts to celebrate MICHAEL's career, with a moment dedicated to some Jackson 5/the Jackson's hits. They tried for a reunion and their own TV show in 2009 - the same time Michael's final tour was supposed to happen. When Michael died, all the interest in the projects of his brother's died too, with their proper reunion only happening a few years later... in a tribute to Michael.

But by far the biggest evidence that Michael didn't need them was Motown 25. He performed with his brothers, and even though he was obviously the star, they were still great, truly fucking awesome, you can clearly tell they are all giving it all their talent and energy.

Then he performed Billie Jean and did the moonwalk without a breaking a sweat and it was like his brothers never existed. Their big moment was Michael's warm up, and his big moment had him on stage by himself, singing the biggest hit of his SOLO career, overshadowing everything that came before it.

The only one of his siblings that ever managed to not be in his shadow was Janet. And even then, despite being HUGE, she was not KING OF POP huge. Probably because literally nobody else, before or since, could do what Michael did.

For fuck's sake, look at "We Are The World." Pretty much every famous singer of the decade was there, every single one of them giving it their all - and Michael is still clearly the star, because he wasn't just better than his siblings, he was better than everybody.

And I think that's the reason why his brothers never fully let go of all their envy. Pretty much everyone in that family exploited Michael for his money/relevance, but since his brothers were once his bandmates, they felt full on entitled towards not just Michael's money, but his career in general - because their time as a band was the most sucess they were ever gonna achieve, but it was quickly becoming just "Michael Jackson's early years, when he was not as famous as he is right now, but was already way more famous than his brothers will ever be." They were dependent on him, and were now being told "No, he won't let you all tag along forever."

Hence them demanding to be part of "Off The Wall" and getting mad when Michael didn't let them, making him tour with them singing the band's biggest hits instead of doing a tour for Thriller, fucking raiding his house for valluable stuff, using his money to buy mansions for themselves and raise their kids/pay child support, claiming that if things had been just slightly different their own solo careers totally could have been just as big as Michael's, etc.

It wasn't just that their sibling slowly became way better than them and eventually didn't need them to be sucessful. Michael NEVER needed them. He was always the star, the one people were more interested in, the one with the most talent, and eventually he realized that, if he continued letting his family pressure him into ignoring his own goals and focused on "paying his debt to his siblings (and father)" he was at best going to be held back forever so his brother's could stay relevant at his expense, and at worst he'd ruin his own career completely just so they could all fail together and his brother's egos would be spared.

Again, see how HE basically ended the band (or at least the version the public actually cared about). To them, it wasn't Michael going solo, it was him kicking them out. Like they would have TOTALLY made Thriller with him, or could have each done it on their own. Like his solo works are theirs by extention just because they used to do things as a group, and therefore they deserve the profit and the credit for something they were not involved in.

Joseph, of course, did not fucking help make the situation any better. I already mentioned all the physical abuse he put his children through during reharsals, but there's one more thing: he'd sometimes deliberately compare his other sons to Michael when they made a mistake while dancing or singing, to make them feel worse about themselves for not being as good as their brother. OBVIOUSLY that led to a ton of misplaced resentment towards their sibling for them, and to Michael feeling guilty about something that wasn't his fault.

Joseph is also the person who taught them their very warped idea of "family." He had always said that family was the most important thing in the world - because he was one of these parents who believed that, since he was responsible for them being alive, they owed him literally EVERYTHING and thus had to put up with EVERYTHING.

He wanted to beat them with a belt whenever they did anything wrong? They should just shut up and endure it, it's just discipline, and they wouldn't be going through that if they could just do what they're told.

He wants to control their careers, have "his share" of their money, and then use said money to cheat on their mother? Doesn't matter, he is still the man of the house if he's not the one making the money, and thus they owe him respect and shouldn't meddle on what he does with his life.

Michael is clearly depressed about all the trauma he was put through and the childhood that was stolen from him? Oh please, he should be thankful that he was made to work like a dog for most of his life, it's the thing that has allowed the whole family to live not just comfortably, but luxuriously - with his money. That he totally only made because of Joseph, so they really don't owe anything to Michael.

It's really no surprise that, after being raised by that man, Michael's brothers turned out the way they did. Their complaints were "God, he told me to buy a smaller house since I can't afford a mansion instead of buying said mansion for me, the watch he gave me for my birthday is only worth ONE million dollars instead of two, and he will only let us do a medley of our Jackson 5 hits during his show, not tour with us again, how selfish!" meanwhile Michael was complaining that since everyone, including his own family, was only ever thinking of how being close to him would benefit their image/lead to them making money, he was incredibly lonely and miserable.

Nine times out of ten, Michael helped his family out of "obligation" - because that's what they turned their relationship into. A transaction, a contract. Michael "paying his debt" to people that cared about his money and fame so much that they often forgot he was a person that, even after all they did, STILL loved them.

But I guess "We are totally responsible for his sucess, and in fact could have totally been just as famous" is a much more pleasant version of the story than "We completely failed our brother, and we should thank God everyday that he never fully broke free of this AWFUL family, because otherwise we'd be broke and even more irrelevant."

[skepticalcatfrog]

My Secret Shanghai Playlist

Finally, the playlist is FINISHED! I gathered all the songs a while ago, the reason it took this long is because I wanted to make a nice cover for it, which I did! See above.

Click here for the playlist!

Now when I say "finished", I don't believe any playlist is ever REALLY finished. I may add songs later on, and if I do, I'll add them to this post! I'm also always open to suggestions.

As promised, under the cut I'll be putting brief descriptions of why I added each song! If you want a full, line-by-line analysis, I definitely encourage you to send an ask about any specific songs to my inbox!

~~~

Song List:

1. Chinese Satellite by Phoebe Bridgers - Everyone already knows my feelings about this song and OVE-era Benedikt (if they looked at this other post I made that is).

2. Stiletto by Billy Joel - Again, if anyone looked at this second other post I made they'll know why this is Roma and Juliette, but SPECIFICALLY from Benedikt's POV.

3. Killer by Phoebe Bridgers - This is Roma and Juliette, specifically in TVD/OVE (see also the drawing I made inspired by this if you so choose).

4. Salt in The Wound by boygenius - This is Rosalind and Dimitri to me, they may also appear again later in this list.

5. Eat Your Young by Hozier - I mean. I feel as though this is quite obvious if you've heard the song.

6. The Bomb by Florence and the Machine - See, as I said up above, this one is Rosalind and Dimitri once again.

7. Wish That You Were Here by Florence and the Machine - I've posted about this before too, not in as much detail, but this one is Benedikt and Marshall to me, specifically in early OVE.

8. Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers - This is on here for Juliette, I need to go in depth about this someone PLEASE ask me about it.

9. Please Stay by Lucy Dacus - If you read my fic you already know, this is on here for Benedikt and Marshall.

10. Abstract (Psychopomp) by Hozier - Honestly this one is on here for pure vibes, feel free to match it specifically with whoever you like.

11. Queen of Peace by Florence and the Machine - It's possible that this one may not fit EXACTLY exactly, but it just really gives Celia to me and there are enough lines in the song to prove it.

12. Dream Girl Evil by Florence and the Machine - Again, this is Rosalind and Dimitri, I know this is happening a lot but it's because I listen to just enough songs about messed up relationships.

13. This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race by Fallout Boy - This one is also on here for pure vibes, it just works very well.

14. Sedated by Hozier - This one is sooooooo FLF/FHH, I don't make the rules.

15. Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons - This is Roma to me, in the way I interpret this song and these lyrics.

16. No Choir by Florence and the Machine - I've also posted about this but I don't think many people saw it, this gives me sooooo Roma and Juliette after they flee the city.

17. Dinner and Diatribes by Hozier - Roma and Juliette. I have no explanation for this other than how antisocial Roma is and how absolutely horrendously they want each other throughout the entire series but specifically LVC.

18. Hospital Beds by Florence and the Machine - This song can be associated with so many things in these books that I will simply let YOU choose what it means.

19. Alone Together by Fall Out Boy - This gives me many feelings about the main four in TVD and where they all end up after the two books.

20. Fourth of July by Fall Out Boy - This one is for Roma and Juliette, specifically in OVE when their relationship has become infinitely more complicated.

21. The Calendar by Panic! At The Disco - This one is on here for OVE-era Roma and his conflicting feelings about Juliette.

22. Hungover in the City of Dust by Autoheart - Dear god this song is so good, and it's here for my beloved Benedikt, once again in his depression era.

23. Share Your Address by Ben Platt - I feel like this one could be very sweet for Rosalind and Orion, from his POV. I just like it for them.

24. New Invention by IDKHOW - If you like Orion Hong and you want to feel MISERABLE about him, this is the song for you I promise.

25. Guns for Hire by Woodkid - Another pure vibes one. Give it a listen.

26. My Immortal by Evanescence - This is another one that I feel could have a number of interpretations, but to me it is Benedikt Montagov (in early OVE, obviously).

27. Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys - An unconventional choice, I know, but I put this here for Roma and Juliette, because wouldn't it be nice?

28. Romeo & Juliet by Peter McPoland - I mean. Come on.

29. Vienna by Billy Joel - Again, so many interpretations, choose your own adventure.

30. Francesca by Hozier - I don't know if this is more romajuliette, more benmars, more rosorion, or more olivercelia. Obviously I lean towards benmars (you know me) but there's evidence for all of them

31. I Love You Too by Peter McPoland - This one is for Oliver and Celia, in honor of that one scene in FHH. You know the one.

32. Back to December by Taylor Swift - Thinking about romajuliette to this song makes me incredibly sad so it goes on the playlist.

33. peace by Taylor Swift - Again. Romajuliette. I'm right.

34. Ease My Mind by Ben Platt - This is benmars to me and no one can change my mind.

35. Run Away by Ben Platt - Think of this as Roma and Juliette and if you don't become deeply emotional I don't know what to say to you.

36. Absinthe by IDKHOW - Pure. Vibes.

37. Bleed Magic by IDKHOW - I dare you to listen to this song and NOT think it's FLF.

38. I Wish I Was by The Avett Brothers - Something about this just feels like olivercelia to me in a way I can't describe.

39. Marjorie by Taylor Swift - Imagining this as Alisa after Roma “dies” made me very emotional so I had to add this one.

40. Just A Girl by Florence and the Machine (or whichever version you prefer, but this cover is my favorite) - I feel like if I say Phoebe Hong I won't need to explain more.

41. Things We Lost in the Fire by Bastille - This definitely gives OVE to me in a major way.

42. Mermaids by Florence and the Machine - Okay this song does reference England twice but if you just ignore that then the vibes are ON POINT for specifically TVD.

43. Out of the Woods by Taylor Swift - Chloe Gong herself said this is Benedikt, so I must add it.

44. Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift - Same as above, but for Marshall.

45. mirrorball by Taylor Swift - Again, same as above, for Celia this time.

46. Murder in the City by The Avett Brothers - Just the very first verse of this is Marshall to me, but the rest of it (give or take a few lines) is very Roma.

47. Soon You'll Get Better by Taylor Swift - WHATEVER YOU DO, don't imagine this as Roma visiting Alisa in the hospital in TVD.

48. Hunger by Florence and the Machine - This is very very TVD duology Rosalind.

49. ivy by Taylor Swift - I know this song is about infidelity, but through another lens, it's actually about romajuliette.

50. Safe & Sound by Taylor Swift - This is here for TVD/OVE Alisa and her only.

51. Honest Man by Ben Platt - Sooooooo rosorion.

52. Agoraphobia by Autoheart - This song is Benedikt to me, not in any particular instance just in general.

As I said above, I 1000% encourage you to ask for more details about any songs you're curious about! I'm happy to discuss. Enjoy!

53. Impossible Year by Panic! at the Disco - This is really everyone at the beginning of OVE, but I put it here specifically for Roma.

54 (Addition #1). Love From The Other Side by Fall Out Boy - This is romajuliette in the TVD/OVE era.

[teamwindsorroyals]

Source: Old History Memories/FB

Deborah Cavendish the Duchess of Devonshire (1920-2014) and her husband Andrew Cavendish, the Duke of Devonshire and their two children; Peregrine and Emma. The family were photographed by Norman Parkinson for Vogue magazine, in August 1952.

Debo as she was affectionately known, was the youngest of seven siblings. She has five sisters Nancy, Pamela, Diana, Unity, Jessica and a brother, Tom. Her death in 2014 as the last of the clan, signalled the end of an era which had spanned 110 years of the Mitford girls capturing society.

Her parents, David, 2nd Baron Redesdale and his wife Sydney were for the best part penniless and eccentric aristocrats. School for the girls was frowned upon, in case they should develop thick calves from playing hockey (Tom, who spent time away studying at Eton, was a Barrister and musician, later killed in Burma in 1945). Amongst other things, linen napkins were abandoned because of the cost of laundering them, and the children were forced to follow a kosher diet on the premises that cancer was less prevalent among Jews. The girls were very hands on and practical at home, developing enquiring minds as they were essentially left to their own devices. This made them ever more appealing when they entered society. Of the sisters, Jessica, Nancy and Deborah became writers.

Their combination of beauty, brains and humour catapulted them to celebrities status and they remained continually courted by the press covering stories of affairs, notoriety and extreme politics.

Diana’s affair with fascist leader Sir Oswald Mosley caused her to leave her marriage to Britain’s wealthiest man at the time, Irish brewing heir, Bryan Guinness. Unity followed her infatuation with Hitler to Germany and died from an attempted suicide. Jessica’s communist support of the Spanish Civil War led her to flee to Spain at age 18, eventually settling in the US. Nancy became a Dior wearing socialist, who left her marriage and moved to France where she indulged in a doomed affair with Charles de Gaulle's right-hand man, Gaston Palewski. Pamela, married the millionaire scientist Derek Jackson and sought of a quieter life out of the limelight. At the time, 15 year-old Debo, who had a crush on Derek, fainted when she heard the news.

Much like the Queen Mother, Debo was looking forward to a life of relative obscurity by marrying the second son of the Duke of Devonshire, Andrew Cavendish in 1941. Unexpectedly, when the 10th Duke died in 1950, they found themselves the 11th Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. Inheriting Chatsworth, Hardwick Hall, Lismore Castle and Bolton Abbey. Death duties meant they donated Hardwick Hall to the nation and precious works of art were sold as Andrew negotiated endlessly, until the debt was finally settled in 1974.

Their lives changed when Billy Hartington, Andrew’s elder brother and heir, was killed during the Second World War by a sniper's bullet in 1944. His death only four months after his marriage to the very popular Kathleen 'Kick' Kennedy, JFK's sister. Four years later, Kick died in a plane crash and is buried in the churchyard at Edensor on the family estate.

Debo redecorated Chatsworth which had previously been leased to a girl’s school, opened it up to the public and spent 54 years of her life there. Her initiatives included the Chatsworth Farmyard – set up to provide people of all ages and backgrounds with the opportunity to learn about farming, food production and traditional landscapes; Chatsworth Farm Shop; and the Orangery gift shop. A pioneer of her time, it paved the way for the commercialisation of other farm estate businesses like Daylesford and Highgrove Farm shops.

Debo moved into Derbyshire vicarage on the death of her husband and assuming the title Dowager Duchess of Devonshire.

Writers of period dramas and historical fiction have looked to the world of the Mitfords sisters for inspiration. Julian Fellowes’ Violet, the Dowager Countess of Grantham in Downton Abbey is said to be based on Nancy’s wicked humour.

Diana was portrayed by Evelyn Waugh in Vile Bodies, Deborah was painted by Lucian Freud and Jessica had a cardboard coffin named after her. John Betjeman - who at one time was in love with Pamela - celebrated the sisters in a verse, the first lines of which read: "The Mitford girls! The Mitford Girls/ I love them for their sins".

Her last publication before her death was her autobiography, ‘Wait For Me!’. See less See less

[writteninlunarlight-years]

hi lunaaa i was wondering if u could do a character mashup for harry potter marauders era?

i’m female she/they and i am bi

i’m black i have dark brown eyes and long lower-back length braids. i have a long head but really high cheekbones. i’m 5’3” (160 centimeter). i have a small frame and a larger chest. i loveee to dress super girly (almost cottagecore or coquette) but i often time time find myself looking and acting a bit masculine

INFP(MBTI) and 9w1(Enneagram)

quiet, reserved , very private and don’t like to open up to people until i know them VERY well, sensitive, emotional, empathetic, self-effacing, good at giving advice, listener, my friends are very loud because i am so quiet(ying/yang), daydreamer

i LOVE photography, i love fashion and bows, i love gold and pearled jewelry, i love cherries and any kind of pasta, billie eilish, singing, science, online shopping, stuffed animals, baking

i hate hypocrisy, i hate food waste, i don’t like confrontation or arguing, i don’t liek tomatoes, i don’t like waiting(impatient), learning history, the sun/bright lights bc i’m practically a vampire

i have a really messed up family and i’m terrified of losing relationships or people i love even though i feel like i am 24/7(attachment issues) 🙂❤️‍🩹 i also love fighting hunger and food waste

sry that was a lot

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

Before we dig into this one, I want everyone to hear me out. I am a massive fan of the opposites attract trope, which states that when you are with your opposite, you even each other out.

With that in mind, Anon, I pair you with------

James Potter

This man is loyal to a fault, has massive golden retriever energy, is a total hype king, and is a fantastic listener.

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

When he first fell for you and tried to ask you out, you shot him down. I mean, he is a loud stereotypical jock guy.

This didn't stop him from asking all of your friends about you and learning about all your hobbies, likes, dislikes, and getting advice on how to be a better man for you.

He made it his personal goal whenever you were around to show that he wasn't always a loud, egotistical jerk.

When you finally gave him a chance, he pulled out all the stops. Not only did he take you to the nicest place in Hogsmeade, but he also took you to pick out all your favorite snacks and treats.

James loves all of your outfits you come out with, he is a hype king through and through. Though he keeps his excitement to himself when you are present so as not to embarrass you the minute you are not by his side, he is either telling his friends how cute you are or showing off the picture of you he keeps on him.

During a heated conversation between you and Sirius about Quidditch and how "a pretty girl" cannot play it, James took it upon himself to teach you.

You were surprisingly good at the game; he found it the most drop-dead gorgeous thing.

If his friends are being too loud and chaotic and he sees you getting uncomfortable, he will shush them down and change the topic to something you can join in on.

Man is convinced you are the woman he will marry, so he does everything he can to show you how much you mean to him daily.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

It was a lovely spring day at Hogwarts. With the year ending and summer break around the corner, everyone was so invested in finishing their exams. However, you can only do so much studying before you grow too bored. This led to you and the Marauders setting up a magic camera outside next to the Whomping Willow.

It was decided that you would pick everyone's outfits for the shoot, Lilly would do everyone's makeup, Sirius would knick the camera from his family home, and the other boys would convince the house elves to 'donate' some food for your afternoon out. Once everyone reconvened and got ready, the photoshoot could begin.

Picture after picture was taken, everyone goofing off and laughing at one another poses. Some photos were nicely done, whereas most were just you guys being goofy. As the photoshoot ended and your stomach growled, James walked up to you nervously. "Hey, Y/N, could we take a couple more pictures? Just me and you." You nodded eagerly and returned to the spot you were initially at. You heard a loud "Ready" from Sirius as you got ready to pose with James. As you turned, you saw James holding a big bouquet of flowers.

The photo that was captured was nothing less than ethereal. James was slightly bent while handing you flowers. Someone threw petals up around you two, and your smiles were infectious. Once Sirius had all the photos printed, this specific picture of you and James became the hallmark of your relationship. Not only because it was unique, but it's the only photo James will show to anyone willing to listen about his favorite girl.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(You and James were perusing around Diagon Ally. As you came across a new jewelry story)

Y/N: Oh, James, let's go in there. I bet there is something pretty I can match with my new outfit.

James: They have plenty of exquisite jewels for a reasonable price.

(you two looked around, and your eyes landed on a gold necklace with pearls sparsely through it. Though the tag was too much, and you began to walk out)

Y/N: ah, if only it was meant to be.

James: What, Y/N, you mean this? (James pulls out the necklace you were eyeing, placing it around your neck) Only the best for my love.

[finalfilms]

final destination characters and what movie/tv shows i think they would like

alex - the walking dead. has seen every single episode even though it’s been running for over a decade. says he could probably survive a zombie apocalypse. is the biggest glenn defender ever.

tod - community. 100%. when the movie got announced he went apeshit on twitter. he loves troy, has seen every episode at least twice, and actually liked the fourth season for some reason.

george - he doesn’t watch tv unless it’s like a sport. look at him. if he had to pick, brooklyn 99.

clear - shameless. she sat through all eleven seasons, would have watch parties with her friends, and liked to take notes on the psyche of the characters. she HATED frank with a passion and loved fiona. actually cried at both finales.

billy - my babysitters a vampire. claims it was his “childhood” and is still upset they ended it on a cliffhanger. rory def rubbed off on him growing up. he prefers the first season to the second but has seen each episode like a million times. will sing the theme song totally unprompted

carter - breaking bad. actually tried making meth cause he thought walter had the “right idea” with the money. is the kind of guy to retweet sigma male edits of the characters

terry - locke and key. watched it cause she thought the main villain was hot, and when he was a girl too she went crazy on twitter. live tweeted the second season, and will defend kinsey locke to no extent.

kimberly - first kill. clear or shania told her to watch it saying it was like a better version of twilight. (she loves twilight). she was on the front lines trying to keep the show from getting canceled. she has probably made an edit of caliette. she’s crazy like that.

rory - he also likes breaking bad, but he’s more into better call saul. saul goodman is HIM. literally so relatable and babygirl. he saw better call saul first, so when he showed up in s2 of brba he went APESHIT

eugene - abbott elementary because there is “finally” a REAL show about what it’s like to be a teacher. he also never gets into sitcoms so it was a shock for him that he liked it so much

nora - bones. she LOVES crime dramas on daytime television, and bones is no exception. she finds herself trying to figure out the twist every single episode. she also gets way too into the characters. (tim was explaining to her that bones was autistic coded and she went :o)

tim - kid LOOKS like henry danger, but i’m gonna say malcom in the middle. secretly wished for a big family growing up. alex told him that the father makes meth and since tim didn’t know about brba he was actively seeking out that plot line.

evan - literally anything with wrestling.

kat - the office. not in like, a “basic” way or anything but because she is a businesswoman and needs to feel included. she likes pam a lot. wanted dwight to die once. she got through about eight seasons before calling it quits.

wendy - i feel like she’s a house md fan??? idk why or how but it just makes sense to me i suppose. probably an rsl fan or something

kevin - okay unpopular opinion but i feel like he’s a huge fan of the will forte era on snl. he’s a will forte fan in general so he’s probably seen clone high, last man on earth and macgruber

ian - def a santa clarita diet fan. trust me when i say this man was having meltdowns on twitter when it got canceled. you have never seen him more passionate in his life!

erin - okay this is very unpopular and very out of character but she has a guilty pleasure show and that is dawsons creek. joey is her fave and she is Completely Normal about pacey + joey. her regular show is yellowjackets, however. god bless cannibalistic high schoolers

[variousqueerthings]

Just the old favourites...

AND IT'S THE DAY OF THE DOCTOR! there's four "of the doctor" titles in a row at the end of this, which I will forgive, because the specials back in what 2008? 2009? were also basically about the Doctor, and this is the end of Eleven's era (one episode left after this and we meet Twelve!!!) so yeah, go on, make it a bit Doctor-centric I gueeeess (but maybe a little less?)

anyway, how do we do with the whole... Doctor thing?

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 6/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 3/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 5/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 10/10

companion matters (the companion doesn’t always have to be there, but if the companion is there, can they function without the doctor– and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story): 4/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 2/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 5/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 4/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 5/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 3/10

FULL RATING: 48/100 (if I can count….)

it's got... some points. I am a big fan of Gallifrey being back on the map! I am really into the final bit from Tom Baker appearing until the last little speech. but I don't think most of this hangs together as a coherent narrative, as such. let us peruse

OBJECTIFICATION: considering how many female characters are in this episode, Osgood, Clara, Kate Stewart, Bad Wolf Interface, and Queen Elizabeth, it does remarkably well for a M*ffat penned episode. however. you can guess who suffers a bit -- surprisingly not as much as I'd remember: It's Queen Liz of course (although actually her issues come up more related to this eras ongoing Stuff around authority, and how she interacts with the Doctor)

Elizabeth, you see, is in Looooove with the Doctor, which is the thing that's going to be the single most annoying pervasive plotpoint in RTD's era. she's kind of ditzy about it, even though she's actually capable elsewhere in the episode, and she's introduced in this sort of romantic outing with the Doctor (who's doing it to out her as an alien, which she isn't)

it's not the worst, considering how this character has been described throughout nu!who, but it's also very eye-rollery

BUT WAIT! there's also the Bad Wolf Interface, played by Billie Piper, whom I'd technically be happy to see, and who does pretty well with what she's given, but...

The War Doctor, burning his hand: The interface, it’s hot Bad Wolf Interface: Well I do my best

this isn't massive, I know I know. and technically this is neither Rose nor The Bad Wolf, however... never were these characters portrayed doing this kind of dialogue. the Bad Wolf is kind of a manic pixie dream girl at times, and it irks a bit. it's not massive. but it irks.

PLOT-POINT: Clara is doing plot shit, and not much else. Queen Liz is a joke B-plot point really. Kate Stewart, noooow ok she's got some opinions on things, some things I want to circle back to, but not on this point (but the main gist is, to what extent is Kate Stewart actually an antagonist). Osgood, I'd say, comes out of this the best, she's got a neat little arc with her Zygon self, which I believe carries on into later episodes

and then there's the Bad Wolf/Moment. I quite like the Moment, actually. I think the Moment as a being + a weapon is interesting. Dunno if that much is done with it on the whole (but that's the next point down). I acknowledge that because the Interface has the face of Rose Tyler/The Bad Wolf, I'm treating it like a female character, which may be flawed thinking, but fuckit, onwards, the Moment is a plot device/Macguffin type, because the Moment has no motivations, it just is, and was introduced in this episode in order to give an object around which the Doctor could make choices. and happens to look like the Bad Wolf, but strangely even that doesn't really matter (we'll get to that)

COMPLEXITY: sOOOooo this plot is kind of a series of best-ofs smooshed together. remember the Queen Liz jokes? well, here's the story behind that. remember the fez? Allons-y, Geronimo, making fun of appearances and quirks, check check, Tom Baker (being fabulous), Billie Piper, and... it's a 50th anniversary, it's fine, I get it, but I wish it wasn't so "this happens and then this happens because this is what we need to happen and then this happens..."

and I do like the ending, even though getting to it is very messy

I kind of wish a few elements had been stripped back or entirely away, so one could zero in on some emotional depth, because while there are some great moments (Ten being the Doctor who's always counting deaths, and Eleven being the Doctor who refuses to look at them is a highlight), it moves too fast for you to breathe and take a lot of it in

take, the Moment as Bad Wolf, love it, and they do timey-wimey handwavey you'll forget all of this, so it doesn't totally fuck around with Rose just being an ordinary girl that the Doctor met, but there's this bit where The War Doctor says "oh bad wolf girl I could kiss you!" and she says something to the effect of "you're going to" and Ten goes something like "I'm sorry did you say Bad Wolf!????"... and then we move on

not that this is Ten's episode, but you brought back Billie Piper and not a single little emotional beat of Ten realising that the Bad Wolf in some way is still looking out for them (or hell, Eleven having that beat too, it's not like they're not the same character)

the Time War is the big sufferer of this though. I know it's described in books in a truly terrifying time-fucked-up Eldritch Gods type way, and what we get is a handful of scenes of explosions and screaming citizens (are they Time Lords or just locals? I don't know enough lore to know the details on how many were Time Lords), and this recurring shot of laughing kids around a maypole. what's with the maypole, idk, it's like a symbol for childhood innocence or something in this

if it had made a choice to not actually show details of the Time War, for example, a lot of that could have been left to the imagination and there could have been a different - more affecting - way of portraying the Doctor's Choice. I'm a big fan of the counting the dead as concept, for example, it says something about both Ten and Eleven

also not sold on every single Doctor suddenly beaming away Gallifrey, it's doing a lot of heavy lifting without much explanation about why it should work. a lot of rushedness to get to one single point

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: ohhh well this is the gamechanger for the plot, the shift in gears. no longer a story about someone who carries the guilt of an entire dead civilisation, it's now the story of someone trying to find their way home

it's very much a Doctor story, the Doctor interacting with the Doctor

however there is also UNIT. we've reintroduced UNIT this season with Kate Stewart (daughter of Lethbridge-Stewart), and a "science first" approach. IIIII am not so sure about it all, considering she was ready to Blow Up London, and yeah, that was halted for a second, but for now there's been no follow-up on that first intention

since I'm watching Classic!Who next to it, I notice that the Third Doctor isn't working with UNIT so much as he needs to be there, because there's nowhere else to go, and is frequently trying to curb their worst instinct, and the Brigadier is frequently the face of conservative reactions to the unknown. the Doctor at this point likes him (and also insults him), and I'm sure they'll be going through some relationship stuff in the future

but crucially UNIT's a delicate balance, and maybe kiiiind of in this iteration to, considering Kate Stewart's "blowing shit up" plan. I'm kind of wary of UNIT as uncomplicated good guys, which they weren't at that point, and could be delved into much more. also UNIT feels very... British, in a colonialist sense. there's discomfort there

COMPANIONS MATTER: Clara helps them out a couple of times, but she takes a backseat in this one, untiiiil she basically drives the moment to change Time War History. I feel so bad for her as actress playing a character, because we're given so little, but she's presented as 1. knowing all of Doctor history due to being in their timestream and being "born to save him" and 2. saving Gallifrey from destruction by talking the Doctor out of it???? it's so left-field and not really connected to who she is in the narrative (that is, the narrative struggles to place her in it unless it suddenly needs her). I really like Clara, I don't like what the narrative does with her

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: this has soooooo much handwavey "the Doctor does stuff because the Doctor can," and in a way it's something I'm like "fine because I also want that narrative of returning to Gallifrey and everything that comes with it" but... I do think there's a version of this story that could have done more to complicate the Doctor, but of course that's a lot to ask of a M*ffat type of Doctor Who

the depictions of Time Lord society are also... look I just don't think M*ffat knows how to do epic particularly well. he tries and it's mostly a bit silly. lot of talking and "trust me this is so cool"

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: oof, this one is... hard to parse. some of this is great. some of this annoys the hell out of me, it really depends on where you land on super special girl of all time the Doctor <- when portrayed as such -- I personally wish that something would complicate this story a little bit, and not just pull classic!who back in order to recontextualise it for new canon that I'm not sure is good enough for it

I really liked the Tom Baker cameo, but I just am not a fan of making previous Doctor Who actually about this Doctor Who. it's a thin thin line to cross over, and not one that can be done by smashing it with a hammer, and M*ffat is a hammer-smasher

that being said that last speech, with all the Doctors, big fan!

ALSO they played both Rose's theme and Martha's for some reason. why would you do me like this???!

“SEXINESS”: well, you know what everyone really missed with Ten? it was a woman grabbing his face and kissing him without his consent, because it's very funny and he's clearly uncomfortable. this happens Three times with the same character (queen Elizabeth)

also a bunch of hints from Eleven at Ten that this is all so very sexy and the like bla bla

there's also a screwdriver-comparing dick joke between Ten and Eleven.... Ten I'm sorry you would never!

INTERNAL WORLD: eehhh bit all over the place, but not as much as has been in M*ffat stuff before, which may just be that most of it has been set up before. there's UNIT, there's the Time War/Gallifrey (if very simplistically portrayed), and Elizabethan Timez. could be worse, could be better

POLITICS: Someone! Take! Authority! Figures! Away! From! Doctor! Who! by this I mean the continued glorification of Monarchy and Churchill and military we've had throughout this era, fuckn stop!

make these stories about people that matter! I note in this episode how little of it focuses on people doing shit, and is just about so-called Important People Doing Shit. the most we get to an ordinary person with real stakes in this is Osgood, who is also UNIT (and has Kate Stewart's phone no-less). yes Clara is... there, but she's there to witness the important shit

it takes the Doctor away from the sphere where we actually relate to them, and into the "actually I only worry about the hobnobs and the important things, the little picture the little person is not the Point"

I think that's what this episode suffers from the most. it's floating away in a balloon with nary a character, setting, or Theme to properly ground it, with the exception of that final bit: "At last I know where I’m going, where I’ve always been going. Home, the long way around."

FULL RATING: 48/100 (if I can count….)

and here we are, one episode from the end of Eleven's era, and it's an average M*ffat rating. bit of a mess, but with an actual good teaser at the end there for once!

I like Osgood, think UNIT has the promise to be compelling if handled correctly, and of course I'm into the Classic!Doctors fanservice. I think Ten is written somewhat to the left of actual Ten, there's some bullshit political stuff as a continuation from M*ffat's bullshit political stuff, and the Time War is presented as a bit... simple on the whole

gosh I didn't even mention John Hurt??? JOHN HURT!!!!! he's really good actually, he sells the weariness excellently and brings the Doctor down a peg from All Awe-Inspiring Heroic Being to just some guy in a bad position. John Hurt also had two of my favourite lines, first mistaking Ten and Eleven for companions (they get younger all the time lol) and then when realising they're the Doctor: "You’re my future selves? Am I having a midlife crisis?"

the interaction between the three Doctors is often very good. Eleven about Ten's Tardis: "It’s his grunge phase. He grows out of it"

ANYWAY

we're nearly there folks!

[yesimwriting]

directors cut sort of?

if final girl was a tv show and you had to pick a song for the opening theme song what would it be?

i’m genuinely very curious if you think there’s a song out there that really wraps not just the readers, billy’s, and stu’s dynamic together but also the vibe of the series

or if you have songs that you think represent characters individually?

anyway would loooove to know what your talented self listens to 💕

i got the notfiication for this and IMMEDIATELY stopped doing homework,, a lot of my writing inspo/motivation comes from music so i have a lot of thoughts

okay i have to preface this by saying that i am unfortunately not a cool, original indie music girly, i would LOVE to be, but i'm aware that it's not true to who i am at the moment 😭

as far as theme song, i think it's hard to nail one that i think is perfect bc i want the traditional slasher vibes and the heart of the story to be captured so i have 5 choices (that i can defend i promise 😭):

Verse 3 of I Know the End, Phoebe Bridgers - ik this song got tiktok-ified but i loved it before that 😭 i think these lyrics and the overall production provide both the kind of ominous urgency of a life and death situation situation while still packing a gut punch that doesn't seem to have a definite source, like when you hear that verse you know there's something tragic going on and you know you're hurt over it, but you can't figure out why

Verse 1 and Chorus of Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl, Olivia Rodrigo - that entire song is just so Y/n and I think the production is kind of "active"/energetic(?) enough to encompass more of the theme

Refrain 1 and (mainly) Pre-chorus of Happiness is a Butterfly, Lana Del Rey - a DRASTIC change in direction ik, and it might seem too soft, but the "if he's a serial killer then what's the worst..." verse is too literal, too good for me to not at least mention as an option,, like it's too real

First verse (or maybe the bridge) of The Love Club, Lorde - I'm on the fence about this one bc the cheerful/more pop sound doesn't fully fit the way I see the final girl fic aesthetic/vibe, but I love Lorde so it got some extra points lol. I think pairing this "clique" that should be a good with the bloody/violent visuals created by the lyrics has potential for a final girl vibe though, especially the first verse.

The Chorus of Nymphology by Melanie Martinez - this one shifts the framing a little but it’s great at summarizing what it’s like to be manic pixie dream girl-ified and implies something bad happening/being forced onto said manic pixie dream girl, so i think it works a little

So music that reminds me of the individual characters are different than what i think they'd listen to, that's a very important clarification!

This is a little less concrete to me, I've mentioned it before that Billy reminds me of Mastermind by Taylor Swift, he also reminds me of Writer in the Dark by Lorde (“I am my mother’s child, i love you till my breathing stops, i love you till you call the cops on me” is PERFECT for him idc)

i feel very strongly that Stu is Mirrorball (by Taylor Swift),, like he premeditates his actions based on getting attention (good or bad) and would literally kill someone before letting anyone find out

i wanted to give Y/n a taylor swift song so that it'd all match up, but i think it's so much more fitting to make her the odd one out in the trio and say that she's in her Olivia Rodrigo Era, she reminds me so much of Guts, she reminds me of Ballad of a Homeschool Girl (which is why it's one of the theme songs lol), and she will be relating to Making the Bed and vampire before the story ends 😭

omg if any of you have any thoughts on songs that would work as a final girl theme song or songs that remind you of the characters individually pls let me know!!

[litcityblues]

Doctor Whoquest Part Four: Tennant, Season 1

The debut season of David Tennant is an interesting one to consider. On the one hand, from my point of view, we've moved all the way back into the Russell T. Davies era of the show, which means that it's got a totally different feel to it now compared to Moffat or Chibnall. People forget that Doctor Who was originally designed as a children's program and while Moffat and Chibnall (at least from what I've seen of Chibnal so far) push the tone of the show into more contemporary, maybe even straightforward science fiction, Davies, I think, might come the closest to capturing the original spirit of the show- which given the fact that he brought it back to the air, to begin with, makes the most sense. You want to capture new viewers and not alienate the old- at least not too much.

On the other hand, there's a lot riding on this season. Tennant is the first regeneration of the Nu-Who Era and while even back that I would have rated him an accomplished enough actor that a sophomore slump would seem unlikely, it had to be on the minds of people going into this and you have to wonder what would have happened to the show had Tennant or the writing not been as good as they are throughout this season. There's a nice symmetry to it overall, as it starts with the first regeneration of Nu-Who, but ends with the first big Companion departure at the end of the season when Billie Piper's Rose Tyler is trapped in a parallel universe.

Where does this rank in terms of debut seasons? That's the real question, isn't it... I don't think you can count Eccleston's season as a debut, because it was also his last season, but leaving him out, I think I'd rank them thusly:

Smith

Tennant

Capaldi

Whittaker

To be fair, I don't there's a lot of daylight between Smith & Tennant or Capaldi & Whittaker-- they all turned in really solid debuts in the role, but for whatever reason, Smith's debut season just knocked my socks off. I think Tennant's debut is a hair's breadth behind his. Capaldi's was better and stronger than I remembered and I'll go ahead and call it: Whittaker's was underrated.

Full credit to Tennant here, though: 'The Christmas Invasion' was one hell of a debut and so successful, in fact, that it established the pattern/tradition of holiday specials that we see throughout the rest of the show.

Three Episodes I Liked:

'The Girl In The Fireplace': I'd have to double-check to be sure, but I think this might be the debut of Steven Moffat on Nu-Who and it's just excellent from start to finish. You've got a sci-fi mystery as the Doctor, Rose, and Mickey arrive aboard an abandoned spaceship which contains several time windows into the life of Madame de Pompadour and overlapping that, you've got a nice time travel angle as the Doctor has to travel back to Versailles to save her from clockwork droids who continue to stalk her, insisting she's not complete. The kicker might be the end-- when Rose, the Doctor, and Mickey depart, and it's the audience that gets the big reveal of why the ship has the time windows and the clockwork droids after Madame de Pompadour to begin with. Combining love, romance, time travel, science fiction, and horror into a perfect blend that fits Doctor Who so nicely, it's one of the standout episodes of Nu-Who and you can't top Tennant delivering the line "I snogged Madame de Pompadour!"

'The Impossible Plant'/'The Satan Pit': There's another two-parter in this season ('Rise of the Cybermen'/'The Age of Steel') that's a pretty solid reintroduction of the Cybermen to Nu-Who and sets up the events of the season finale, but I have to give the nod to this one. The Doctor and Rose arrive on a base on a planet that is somehow orbiting a black hole. The crew is served by a race of docile beings known as the Ood and the Doctor is puzzled by a language so ancient it predates even the Time Lords. When a quake strikes the planet and the TARDIS falls into planet and when the Doctor goes to retrieve it, they find a door- which opens, revealing The Beast who takes possession of a crew member and announces that he is free. The music is especially top-notch on this two-parter- there's a mournful undertone to it- not mournful as in sad, but mournful as it, 'impossibly old and alone at the edge of space' so full credit to Murray Gold for that. There are some nice nods to Alien when the Ood chase the crew through the air ducts and this episode touches on concepts of Satan, Hell, and the Devil in a really interesting way.

'School Reunion': The return of Sarah Jane Smith! (Elisabeth Sladen). I'll be honest-- I never saw any of her episodes from Classic Who, but I understood the excitement about her return and this was a great episode- at also helped launch her into her own spin-off of The Sarah Jane Adventures, so there's that.

Two Episodes I Didn't Like

'Fear Her': Was just okay. Possessed kid capturing people in the drawings she makes? Plus a weird Olympic subplot? It feels like a bottle episode- probably because it was as it lead into the two-part finale of 'Army of Ghosts'/'Doomsday'.

'New Earth': While I appreciate seeing the Face of Boe again and the Cat Nurses, I honestly don't care about the human trampoline, Cassandra. As a villain, she's awfully vain- which I guess is the point of the character, and even though there's a credible attempt to make her (a flat trampoline of a character) more three-dimensional, it just... doesn't land. The Face of Boe just hints at something big for The Doctor the next time they meet and thus seems... wasted? I don't know. Just kind of 'meh' for me.

One Episode To Consider

'Love & Monsters': This is actually a really off-beat episode as it's told from the point of view of people who get left behind and experience all the wild and wacky things that poor London has gone through and it gets a little weird at the end as the main character, Elton gets to start a relationship with his girlfriend, Ursula, who is, well, a paving stone. I appreciate the ELO. I appreciate the weird. I like a good episode that zigs when you're expecting a zag and this one works.

Overall: I do not like the Daleks. I'm over the Daleks. You've got sixty years of a show to dig through- find something else. However, I will say this: the Cybermen are interesting and when they face off against the Daleks in the Season Finale, it's pretty cool-- you've got two of the biggest villains in the franchise facing off against one and you can't really complain too much about that.

As a plot device, I would really like them to get away from the 'let's throw a random word into every episode and have it mean something at the end of the season' thing that they do in these early seasons. Once you get away with it once, it's hard to replicate it with any serious effect, I think. Bad Wolf works. Torchwood obviously plays a role in the season finale and yes, but Tennant's next season gets liberal references to Harold Saxon thrown everywhere. As foreshadowing goes, it's not subtle. Ideally, you'd do this and not have the audience realize the mystery until you unveil it and then they'll have to go back and piece it together for themselves- but at the end of the day, it is what it is. I forget I'm doing this in a back-asswards way, so these early tendencies tend to evolve as the show does, though I really would like at least a one-season moratorium on anything related to the Daleks.

My Grade: 8/10

[yeonchi]

Doctor Who 10 for 10 Part 3/10: Series 3

Doctor Who had become a household name again in the UK following the success of the first two series of the revival. With Billie Piper having left the TARDIS at the end of the last series, the production team had the task of finding a new companion, which would be Martha Jones, played by Freema Agyeman, who had only just played a character named Adeola Oshodi in Army of Ghosts (which was later revealed to be Martha’s cousin in the novel Made of Steel). Also returning was Anjoa Andoh, who played Sister Jatt in New Earth.

Following the Daleks and Cybermen in previous series, Series 3 would bring back another classic villain as part of a story arc involving events that were already set in motion before this series. To explain more, let’s jump into the retrospective for Series 3.

1. New looks and new ways

Following on from the events of the previous series in the 2006 Christmas Special The Runaway Bride, the Doctor farewelled Rose only to find that Donna Noble had appeared on the TARDIS on what would have been her wedding day. During this encounter, the Doctor confronted the Empress of the Racnoss and flooded her ship in the centre of the Earth, drowning her children before the Empress was killed on the orders of a “Mr Saxon”. At the end of that encounter, Donna told the Doctor that he should travel with someone because he needs someone to stop him like she did.

Apparently, the scene of Donna appearing in the TARDIS was filmed twice given how the TARDIS lighting changed following the filming of Doomsday and the change of cinematographers that occurred. The first filming was done in secret with a skeleton crew during the wrap party for Series 2 before Catherine Tate’s involvement in the special became public following the premiere of Doomsday on 8 July 2006, when they had done the second filming.

During Series 1 and 2, the TARDIS set was located at Unit Q2 Imperial Park in Newport, but from Series 3 onwards, it was moved to its new home at Upper Boat Studios, where Torchwood was also being filmed. The Doctor Who logo also received a change, making it look more colourfully vibrant and less bronze.

Putting aside the obvious for now, this Christmas Special began the tradition of one-time companions played by special guests in subsequent specials. This is something that is, of course, broken in the Chibnall era because the Doctor’s companions carried themselves over to the New Year’s Specials and the special guests in them were boring.

2. The rebound girl

In Smith and Jones, the Doctor meets Martha, who ends up saving him (with a kiss) and the Doctor offers her a trip in the TARDIS as thanks. Though he denies that she is replacing Rose, the Doctor ends up taking Martha to New Earth, the same place he took Rose before, compares Martha to Rose at one point and fails to notice her affection for him nor does anything to address it. Luckily though, the Doctor does seem to acknowledge this when he meets Donna again in Partners in Crime. This theme continues throughout the course of Series 3, with Martha’s unrequited love for the Doctor being highlighted in several episodes.

3. The mystery of the Face of Boe

In Gridlock, the Doctor and Martha head to New Earth (stretching the definition of one trip) and Martha is kidnapped by a couple wanting to drive in the fast lane on the Motorway, unaware of the devolved and savage Macra lurking below. While attempting to chase after Martha, the Doctor bumps into Novice Hame, who takes him to see the dying Face of Boe, who was using his lifeforce to keep the Motorway running. In the end, he uses up the last of his lifeforce to allow the Doctor and Hame to open up the Motorway and let everyone out. Boe’s last words to the Doctor are, “You are not alone,” something which would be relevant towards the finale. Martha reassures the Doctor that he is not alone because he has her, but a dense Doctor says that it isn’t what he meant.

At the end of the finale, as Jack Harkness prepares to go back to his team, he mentions that he was the first person on the Boeshane Peninsula to sign up for the Time Agency and that they called him “the Face of Boe” because of it, which leads the Doctor and Martha to believe that Jack could eventually end up becoming the Face of Boe. Although Julie Gardner apparently confirmed as much at the 2008 San Diego Comic-Con, RTD said in 2011 that it was just “conjecture”, though he seemingly confirmed it as well in 2020 for Doctor Who: Lockdown. Personally, I don’t think this is the case and if it was, let’s say Jack was beheaded by the Headless Monks and stayed alive, like what happened to Dorium Maldovar.

4. Rise of the human-Daleks

Daleks in Manhattan and Evolution of the Daleks saw the return of the Cult of Skaro in 1930’s New York City, where they were conducting genetic experimentations to create a new Dalek race. After their first attempts to create new Daleks failed, they created a plan to create human-Dalek hybrids by fusing their DNA, with Dalek Sec merging with a man called Diagoras as a test, claiming that they must sacrifice their Dalek purity to survive. Sec’s assimilation caused him to begin feeling human emotions and its success impressed the Doctor so much that he was willing to help them with the rest of their Final Experiment and fulfil Sec’s request to give them a new home so they can start again. However, the rest of the Cult, unimpressed with Sec’s behaviour, turned on him and converted their experiments into hybrid Daleks. Sec ended up being exterminated, then the hybrid Daleks turned on Jast and Thay due to the Doctor’s sabotage. The Doctor went to Caan to give him another chance, but he escaped with an Emergency Temporal Shift.

The Doctor’s actions seemed questionable given the nature of the Daleks, but he was willing to set that aside when faced with the possibility that the Daleks would be able to change who they were, however, the Dalek primary directive prevailed that day, resulting in the genocide of the hybrid Daleks and the near-genocide of the Cult of Skaro and the Pig Slaves (though the latter was self-defence on Martha’s part).

5. A human nature

In the two-parter Human Nature and The Family of Blood, the Doctor and Martha are chased by the parasitic Family of Blood who were hunting the Doctor for a longer lifespan since they could only live for three months. The Doctor used the Chameleon Arch to turn himself into a human, fabricating his backstory as John Smith so he could hide as a schoolteacher in Farringham in 1913. Since some traits of the Doctor still remained in Smith, he had dreams of the Doctor’s adventures which he chronicled in a journal and was able to use a cricket ball to save a mother and baby from being crushed by a falling piano.

Near the end of those three months, John Smith and his co-worker, nurse Joan Redfern, fell in love with each other, something that he didn’t warn Martha about (because rebound). When the Family of Blood attacked the village looking for Smith, the school was forced to defend itself against the scarecrows sent by Son of Mine, with the boys armed on the front line while Smith does not fire at anyone. This was meant to be an allegory to the Great War (World War I), where boys their age would be conscripted to fight for King and Country the year after and ordinary people would be caught in the crossfire, both on and off the frontlines. On top of this, the apparent attitudes of the era regarding race and gender were also shown in this story as Martha finds herself a fish out of water; not just being a woman, but a woman of colour no less.

In the end, John Smith becomes the Doctor again and tricks the Family of Blood into destroying their own ship before dealing his own punishments unto them, fulfilling their quest for immortality. He goes back and invites Joan to travel with him as his companion, but she declines. Tim Latimer, one of the boys who is also the main focus of the story, is given the Doctor’s fob watch that he used and is visited by the Doctor and Martha years later at a Remembrance Day ceremony.

People say that this is the best episode of Doctor Who for the Doctor and Martha, but I’m not a fan of it or Chameleon Arch stories in general. To directly quote myself from my review of Fugitive of the Judoon, I think that if you (forcibly) conceal yourself as a lesser species despite having superior powers, abilities and knowledge, then it demeans who you really are and makes you look like a bit of a coward. John Smith put it best in this two-parter when he was struggling over whether to open the fob watch and become the Doctor again as it meant that this John Smith wouldn’t exist anymore. In the end, he didn’t stand up and insist on staying John Smith, thus making him a coward either way. Although, I do suppose that was the point of this story.

Paul Cornell, the writer of this two-parter, adapted it from his Virgin New Adventures book of the same name featuring the Seventh Doctor in 1995. While I wouldn’t really care for the guy, his “contributions” to the fandom during Doctor Who: Lockdown were not good and all in all, made him look like a bit of a dickhead. In short, he’s the Matthew Guy of Doctor Who, blocking people including those who have never interacted with him (probably through using blocklists) or people who disagree with him about the Timeless Child (not surprising considering that he wrote during the wilderness years in the 90’s, when the Other was a considerably less-worse thing).

Cornell has deleted his Twitter because he was butthurt from Elon Musk buying it, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t include links or screenshots. Before the tweetalong of the two-parter on 24 April 2020, Cornell expressed that he wanted the event to be about “the whole community” (coming from the Matthew Guy of Doctor Who lmao) and also said this about the canon of Doctor Who:

I think the idea that Doctor Who has a canon was already lying in bits at the side of the road, but I hope tonight will help to wash the concept gently into the gutter.

I can understand Doctor Who contradicting canon because of all the extended universe material and other inconsistencies, but to say that Doctor Who shouldn’t have a canon is pretty stupid given that you’re creating new things out of what came before (refer to my canon/land analogy in the Series 13 review epilogue). At this point, people can say that Doctor Who canon is whatever they want it to be, but no matter what they think, TV is god.

For the event, Cornell wrote two minisodes, Shadow of a Doubt and The Shadow in the Mirror, which attempted to canonise the original novel with the two-parter (even linking Daughter of Mine to one of the villains from the novel) and had the Thirteenth Doctor free Daughter of Mine because of “mercy” without the latter showing remorse for her actions, completely undoing his own story and neglecting why the Tenth Doctor did what he did to her and her family in the first place. Maybe they wouldn’t live for long if they were to be freed, but what’s stopping them from seeing immortality again? Like I said in my post about Doctor Who: Lockdown, “it’s like The Timeless Children gave writers a free pass to make the Thirteenth Doctor a Mary Sue.”

6. Meeting you in the future when the future is the past

Steven Moffat’s contribution to Series 3, Blink, is a well-known episode that introduces the Weeping Angels, sentient statues that would become recurring villains in the series. This episode also served as the double-banked Doctor-lite episode for the season, being filmed alongside the Family of Blood two-parter.

Based on his Doctor Who Annual 2006 short story featuring the Ninth Doctor, What I Did on My Christmas Holidays by Sally Sparrow, the resolution to this story is an ontological paradox; Sally Sparrow learns about the Weeping Angels and how to deal with them from the Doctor through messages at an old house and Easter eggs on 17 DVDs that she owned. As Sally “converses” with the Doctor through the Easter egg, Larry Nightingale writes a transcript of the conversation, which Sally would later give to a past version of the Doctor after she and Larry send the TARDIS back to him in 1969. In turn, the Doctor, having received the transcript, would be sent to 1969 alongside Martha and he would leave those messages for Sally before retrieving his TARDIS and leaving. Later episodes would continue to show examples of similar paradoxes.

7. Vote Saxon

We didn’t see a lot of domestics with Martha’s family in this series compared to Rose with Jackie and Mickey in the last two series, although their involvement ties into the running series arc, namely the Harold Saxon arc. Examples of Saxon influence have been placed late in Series 2 and in one episode of Torchwood Series 1, leading to the climax of the arc in this series.

In The Lazarus Experiment, the Doctor manages to return Martha to her flat, 12 hours after she initially left, before they attended an event held by Professor Richard Lazarus to show his new genetic manipulation device, which was built with funding from “Mr Saxon”. Following the encounter, Martha decided to officially join the Doctor as his companion.

For now, we’ll skip ahead to the three-part finale, starting with Utopia. The Doctor is reluctantly reunited with Jack Harkness after a brief stop in Cardiff, ending up 100 trillion years into the future on the planet Malcassairo, where they met Professor Yana, who had been suffering from a drumbeat of four in his head for as long as he could remember (a subtle retcon). With the Doctor and Jack’s help, the remnants of humanity launched towards Utopia, but during the events, Martha inadvertently drew Yana’s attention to a fob watch he had in his possession, which led him to open it, allowing him to revert to his true identity - a Time Lord known as the Master. Apparently, the Master had been resurrected for the Time War (elaborated adventures in Big Finish dramas), but following an incident where the Dalek Emperor took control of the Cruciform (extended media says that it’s a location but I believe that it was a weapon or a ship), he escaped into the far future, sent his TARDIS away and used a Chameleon Arch to turn himself into a human baby, who would later grow to become Professor Yana.

After reverting to his true identity, the Master attempted to destroy his own work as Yana, but his assistant shot him. He managed to regenerate in the Doctor’s TARDIS before using it to escape, however due to the Doctor’s manipulation, he could only travel to within an 18-month window from when he last landed. Landing sometime in (presumably) late-2006, the Master assumed the identity of Harold Saxon (an anagram of “Master No. Six”), fabricating his past and performing various actions, such as creating the Archangel Network to make humans trust him and hide his presence from the Doctor (given how he said he could notice another Time Lord I’m willing to believe that’s a throwaway line that got disregarded later on). He also married a woman called Lucy and manipulated Martha’s family into distrusting the Doctor through his agents, allowing them to become pawns in his ultimate plan that would come later on.

By the time the Doctor, Martha and Jack managed to come back from the far future in The Sound of Drums, the Master won the general election and was elected Prime Minister before proceeding to gas the entire Cabinet, calling them all “traitors” for abandoning their parties and jumping on his bandwagon.

In the last instalment, I talked about how Pete’s World was a satire of the “New World Order”, something that is ridiculed by the right and wilfully ignored by the left. In this instalment, I show the opposite - Harold Saxon, his “party” and his “election campaign” feels like a foreshadowing satire to third/minor parties, particularly “freedom parties” that have risen in the past few years as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, though the same can be said for “green” or “socialist” parties as well. In most Western countries, elections are mostly based around two major parties representing either the liberal/progressive or conservative sides of politics, and most people are either politically ignorant or have been indoctrinated to vote for either one of the two major parties (in the case of the former, they tend to donkey vote or vote for the existing candidate). As such, a third/minor party suddenly gaining enough influence to form government is really wishful thinking unless subtle brainwashing is involved, hence the Archangel Network.

8. The Year That Never Was

Now that Harold Saxon became Prime Minister, the only finishing touches he needed for his plan was to bring the Doctor, Martha and Jack to the Valiant by having Martha’s family brought to it. Having converted the Doctor’s TARDIS into a paradox machine, he brought the Toclafane, which were the converted remains of humans from the far future who had arrived on Utopia only to find that it wasn’t what they expected it to be, into the present day and allowed them to slaughter their ancestors without remorse.

After being forcibly aged a hundred years by the Master using his laser screwdriver, the Doctor gave Jack’s vortex manipulator to Martha, who used it to leave the Valiant and travel the world, using her TARDIS key as a perception filter while the Master enslaved humanity to have them build weapons in preparation for war against the rest of the universe.

A year later in Last of the Time Lords, the Master aged the Doctor another 900 years as a warning before confronting Martha and bringing her back to the Valiant. At the exact one-year anniversary of the Toclafane’s arrival, Martha revealed her plan to have everyone around the world think of the Doctor while he tuned himself into the Archangel Network, allowing him to be restored to his original age and leaving the Master a whimpering ball as the Doctor tells him the one thing he never wanted to hear: “I forgive you.”

Following a confrontation between the Doctor and the Master, Jack destroyed the paradox machine and Earth was returned to normal before the arrival of the Toclafane, with only those on the Valliant remembering what happened in that year, The Year That Never Was. The Doctor intended to take the Master into his custody, seeing as he was the only other Time Lord apart from himself, but Lucy shot him after the way he treated her over that year. The Doctor told the Master to regenerate as he held him in his arms, but he refused and let himself die, something which he would never do if he hadn’t had a plan in place beforehand. The Doctor burned the Master’s body on a funeral pyre, but his signet ring was recovered by a then-unknown female.

I’ve never really been able to say this for years, but the Series 3 finale isn’t one of my favourites. Aside from the obvious deus ex machina used to resolve the story (which I’m kind of OK with), I’m not really a big fan of villains driving protagonists to the brink the way the Master did. Maybe it’s the way that it’s presented as everyone turning against them, because I’ve written storylines where the protagonists are driven to the brink and everyone else is in danger and I kind of prefer those. Also, there was the Chameleon Arch thing I talked about earlier, which acted as a key element for the story.

9. The end of the rebound

With everything back to normal, the Doctor prepares to leave again, but Martha decides to stop travelling with him, giving him her upgraded superphone while telling him a story as a metaphor for her experience as his companion, merely being the rebound girl the Doctor never paid much attention to.

Martha had quite a bit of involvement in the show past Series 3. In Torchwood Series 2, Martha appeared in three episodes, now as a UNIT officer cooperating with Jack and his team. She appeared again in several Series 4 episodes, where she had been engaged to Tom Milligan, a character who appeared in Last of the Time Lords before making a final appearance in The End of Time, where she had married Mickey Smith instead. There were plans for Martha and Mickey to appear in the third series of Torchwood and the finale of SJA Series 2 or 3 respectively, but scheduling difficulties from being cast in different shows resulted in only Nicholas Courtney returning as the Brigadier in the SJA Series 2 finale, his final role before his death in February 2011.

My thoughts on Martha as a companion - she’s okay, I guess. Most of her character growth took place during The Year That Never Was, which finally made her realise the futility in pursuing a relationship that was never going to happen. Even if she didn’t have a lot of development throughout Series 3, it was nice to see her again over the next couple of years.

10. International free-to-air distribution in Japan, Hong Kong and Taiwan

Not gonna lie, it was hard trying to find some behind-the-scenes content to fill up some spaces for this instalment. I almost thought I wouldn’t be able to get 10 until I split what is currently 1 and 2 into what they are now. Anyway, just so I could have something, I’m going to talk a little bit about the titled topic because sometimes I’m interested in seeing shows I like being broadcast in my favourite countries/territories.

OK, spoiler alert, Japan, Hong Kong and Taiwan never broadcast every series. aTV World in Hong Kong broadcast Series 1-3 from 2006 to 2009, then CTS in Taiwan broadcast those same episodes (without the Christmas Specials) over January 2009 weeknights at midnight (whether it was dubbed there I have no idea). IPTV channel Elta Drama would broadcast Series 5 and 6 in 2015 while BBC Entertainment would broadcast Series 9 episodes hours after the UK premiere.

In Japan, Series 1 and 2 (including The Christmas Invasion) were dubbed and broadcast with dual audio options on NHK’s satellite service, BS2 from September 2006 to March 2007 and on its second free-to-air channel, NHK Educational TV, from August 2007 to March 2008. Those episodes would be repeated on the cable channel LaLa TV over two weekends in March 2011 before premiering Series 3 (with subtitles only) from December 2011. For the most part, subsequent series would be confined to streaming or home media. Series 3 and 4 would not be dubbed, then the Matt Smith and Peter Capaldi episodes would be released by Kadokawa under the titles Doctor Who: New Generation and Doctor Who: Next Generation respectively.

As for the Jodie Whittaker episodes, only Series 11 was released in Japan under the title Doctor Who: Reborn. No further series were released after that, though if you ask me, Kadokawa dodged a missile given what we got in Series 12 and 13. Trust me, Japan, unless you’re a hardcore Whovian, it’s for the best.

Series 3 continued riding the highs of Doctor Who’s success as fans would begin to explore the classic series, initially brought on not just by returning villains, but by returning characters such as Sarah Jane Smith, the Master and the Fifth Doctor in a Children in Need sketch, Time Crash, written by Steven Moffat. The stigma of the classic series had all but gone and the production team felt more comfortable with paying their respects to it, even if they had no intention of picking up certain loose threads that had gone unanswered (ie. the Rani or the Valeyard).

This instalment mostly ended up being a recap of Series 3 rather than an insight behind-the-scenes, but I have a feeling I’ll have more to say in the next instalment, so stay tuned for Part 4 as I give my 10 takes on Series 4.

[mywifeleftme]

315b: Various Artists // Top Teen Bands Vol. 2

Top Teen Bands Vol. 2 Various Artists 1966, Bud-Jet

Doing a three-for-one today on this trio of Minneapolis-St. Paul garage rock compilations originally issued in 1966 on the Bud-Jet label, and mysteriously bootlegged on CD and vinyl around 2005. With the exception of bluesman George “Mojo” Buford (on Vol. 2), none of these acts ever managed to cut an LP, and a few barely managed to get a single out. The Twin Cities had a decent little rock scene, and these comps give us 16 bands across 36 tracks, good, bad, and bluhgly. First time opening these guys that have been sitting on my shelf for ages, let’s see what we’ve got.

Top Teen Bands Vol. 2

Deacons — Baldy Stomp (The Deacons’ other song with “Baldy” / “Baldie” in the title, this one features more Wildman vocal ad libs, and a decently edgy sound for '64.)

Gregory Dee & the Avanties — Say Boss Man (A nice little groove with some fun organ playing and a semi-buried, distorted vocal that's practically another instrument at times—kinda peters out just as it's getting good, this would’ve probably cooked live.)

Corvets — So Fine (Finally somebody in the Twin Cities doing Jerry Lee shit, though the excitement fades a bit when you realize it's going to be an instrumental. Ends up kind of like listening to Linus from Peanuts tear ass on his toy pianer.)

Gregory Dee & the Avanties — Because of You (So, these guys have heard the Animals too. They're kinda close to nailing it with this vocal melody and jangly guitar figure over an organ drone. The mixing on the version on YouTube’s a bit rough, but on the comp it’s hideous—the drums, bass, and organ become this gross thud that buries the rest of the track.)

Canadian Love Bugs — Moanin' (Good vocalist; someone should rap the organist on the knuckles and make him behave himself; just kinda there.)

Rave-Ons — Love Pill (More Please Please Me-era Beatles pastiche from the Rave-Ons, and honestly, pretty close to the genuine article except the vocals are just like 20% less refined; pretty good hook.)

Novas — On the Road Again (Good, tough garage R&B.)

Accents — Louisiana Man (Piano-led and countrified in kind of a "Billy Bayou" way, but with a thuggish stomp—it would skip along better without it, but the wallop gives it a kind of stoned drag that's sorta interesting.)

Satisfactions — Girl, Don't Tell Me (A serviceable cover of the Beach Boys' "Girl Don't Tell Me," a song I could listen to in basically any arrangement—less impassioned than Carl's vocal on the original, but it lets you appreciate that twinkly "Ticket to Ride"-y instrumental hook even more.)

Mojo Buford — Whole Lotta Woman (Nice harmonica driven jump blues / rock 'n' roll track from an actual Black guy, formerly of Muddy Waters’ band.)

Underbeats — Broken Arrow (Crickets-y jam with a lot of gimmicky Dr. Seuss-y wordplay happening in the verses, but overall it’s very likeable. Would listen again.)

Gregory Dee & the Avanties — Because of You (More blown out, super deconstructed sound, but this one goes pretty damn hard, weird groaning organ hook, Eric Burdon-impression vocals. A trashy trip.)

Overall: Vol. 2 is probably the weakest of the three collections, but it's still mostly a breeze to listen to. Gregory Dee's "Because of You" takes the cake here, but the Accents, Rave-Ons, and Novas tracks aren't bad.

See also: Vol. 1 / Vol. 3

315b/365