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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

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Long Nights - part 2

Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: Praise you

(see chapter 1)

summary: you found tremendous joy in coming up with new ways to make the lockpicking sessions challenging. And entertaining.

...even if the last part was mostly a one-sided thing.

warnings: 18+, explicit language, teasing, implied smut I guess? oh, and of course - ✨hand content✨

author’s note: Took me a while, but it was fun to write! Didn’t expect it to get this long, but here we are - over 4,2k words of shameless hand content

The song for this chapter is Fatboy Slim - Praise you

Anyway, enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @vaneilla @gallifreyan-uprising @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @truly-insatiable (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)

-----

You cracked it.

It took you a good while, though. A whole sleepless night, even.

And half of the morning after that.

But maybe the absolute exhaustion was the key, pun intended.

At first, it boggled your mind so much that you were dangerously close to using brute force just to examine that lock. You tried every technique that you could think of - to no effect. It wasn’t like anything you’d seen before. The mechanism wasn’t responding as usual, it was more like a thing from goddamn Upside Down, or however the fuck that was called.

It became a matter of pride.

The sun had risen over an hour ago and the sunlight was pouring through the gaps in the blinds. Grasping at the last strands of sanity, you decided to take a break. You put on your headphones and danced around your apartment to the sounds of a song with that one bloody line that somehow seemed fitting for this madness.

Is it worth it? Let me work it, I put my thang down, flip it and reverse it

Because it felt exactly like that was what had happened to it. And no amount of cursing and switching tools would help in the face of glitched reality.

And when you sat down at your desk again, with your head so empty that your last brain cell was amusing itself by yodeling and listening to an echo, you bound the first pin. The sound was so distorted it almost startled you. The last thing you needed right then was to break the hook inside the keyway, so you leveled your breath and continued, even though your fingers cramped painfully. That wasn’t enough to stop you. Not as you finally got proof that the task was actually within your reach.

With every click like a backwards version of the sound you knew so well, the next pins got set quicker and smoother. And when you opened the lock, you couldn’t help the cheerful scream that escaped your mouth.

“Fuck yes!” You punched the air, the adrenaline rushing through your veins, the biggest grin lighting up your face.

That’s when you knew there was no way you were going to sleep anytime soon. Besides, you still didn’t know how you managed to convince that device to cooperate. You had to prove to yourself that it wasn’t dumb luck, and should you ever come upon a bloody nightmare like that, you’d be able to use the experience to crack it open. Because of that, you spent the next couple of hours reverse-picking it (which turned out to be another level of bonkers) to lock the damn thing, only to open it back again. And again. And then three times more. When you got comfortable with the process, your eyes were burning, your fingers stiff and trembling, but the immense satisfaction was worth every bit of it.

You were about to crash on the bed as your phone buzzed, and you glanced at the incoming message.

//did you pick it?

At first, you assumed you got it from Mahir, but as you were typing in a long rant, you realized that there was no history of the previous conversations on the screen, so you checked the sender again.

Neil.

Huh.

You’d exchanged the numbers the day before, but you didn’t expect to hear from him until they got everything ready to start the lessons. Oh well. You snapped the picture of the open lock and sent it back, adding a short message.

//that was fun, hope you have more of them

As you faceplanted on the bed, the phone buzzed with a reply.

//N: you bet

You couldn’t wait to get all the answers about how they managed to manufacture the most bizarre and mind-bending thing you’d ever seen, but there was no point in asking those questions over the phone. Plus, you really needed to get some rest.

//awesome! now excuse me, imma get some Zs - let me know when you guys are ready to start

After a second, you typed in another text.

//ps. how’s your nose?

//N: will do, sleep well!

//N: as for my nose...let’s say I’m glad it wasn’t the straightest one in the first place

That cheeky bastard.

//hey, don’t try to guilt-trip me, i’m trying to sleep

You almost drifted off, but you couldn’t resist checking that last notification.

//N: ...I wouldn’t dare

Snorting, you rolled to the side.

Then you fell asleep, dreaming of the impossible locks.

-------

It took them another day to prepare all the stuff, and after several further messages you got a date and location.

The building looked like a contemporary tenement house, definitely standing out from two older ones at its sides. You always assumed it belonged to one of those fancy start-ups, but apparently it was some sort of temporary headquarters of your new associates.

It didn’t surprise you that you weren’t given a tour of the place, you assumed you needed to have some sort of clearance to walk freely through the area. For now, you were restricted to the ground floor, or rather to the lobby and your classroom - a rather cozy space, but equipped with everything you needed to begin.

Neil turned out to be a fast learner, at least when it came to covering the theoretical side of lockpicking. You walked him through the basics, but you couldn’t help the itch in the back of your brain. After the encounter with the preposterous lock, your mind started to question everything that used to be unshakeable.

And of course you asked Neil about that bloody device as soon as you saw him, but he just smiled lightly and said that The Protagonist insisted on telling you all that himself when the time was right. So you had nothing left to do but to continue with the lessons, hoping that you the man himself would decide to grace you with his presence sooner than later.

You propped the chin on your hand and watched as Neil grabbed the tools. Your gaze wandered over his outrageously long fingers as he gave the lock a try, but apparently, the most idiotic grin on your face didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, eyes up here,” snorted Neil, and you looked at him just to meet his amused face. He caught you shamelessly staring, and there was no point in denying it.

Trying to salvage your mental coherence, you choked out, “Dude, your hands are--”

“What?” he asked, tilting his head.

“...huge,” you finished, the wide smile not leaving even for a second. You bit your lip and glanced back at Neil. “Don’t mind me, I’m just gonna stare for a bit longer.”

A hint of a blush crept upon his cheeks. My, oh my. Blinking rapidly, he cleared his throat and proceeded to bind the first pin, pressing his mouth into a thin line in an attempt to keep a composed demeanor. The sparkles in his gaze were quite telling, though.

The sight was utterly adorable, but more importantly, it planted a rather gut-busting idea into your head.

You stifled a giggle.

All in due time.

____

One of the perks of the location was a small cafe on the other side of the street.

Neil took you there on your second day during a break, walking in with a confidence of a true regular. He knew the staff by name and vice-versa, so it didn’t surprise you as he charmed his way through the conversation.

“I’ve got this,” he said, raising a hand to stop you before you could place your order. “One black coffee and one--...” he hesitated, still preventing you from chiming in. You crossed your arms and watched as his forehead creased, the confidence leaving him with every second passed. He narrowed his eyes, and you could almost hear the gears grinding in his head.

Whatever he was doing, or trying to do, it was time to put him out of his misery.

“Iced mocha for me, please,” you said, wondering which one of you had a more puzzled expression. “Cat got your tongue?”

Neil shook his head.

“No, it’s just…” - he let out a small sigh - “I can’t read you.”

“Good,” you snorted. “Why would you want to, anyway?”

The young barista smiled, putting the first coffee on the counter.

“Oh, your colleague here has a thing.”

“Oh?” You arched a brow. “Do tell!”

“It’s nothing,” said Neil, cringing slightly, but it wasn’t enough to prevent the enthusiastic answer from spilling from the barista.

“He likes to guess the orders of his companions, but this is prolly the first time I ever saw him freeze like that. Can’t wait to tell Doris!”

Neil groaned, avoiding your amused stare. “Spare me, Max.”

“Aww, man, I’m honored to be your first!” you teased, nudging his arm lightly and snickering at the absolutely done face he gave you in return.

That cafe quickly became your place of choice during breaks, but sometimes, if the weather was nice enough, you ordered to-go, just to spend that bit of free time between lockpicking sessions sitting on a grassy hill overlooking a bank of the river. You chatted about everything and nothing in particular, or simply sat in silence, enjoying the ambiance, beverages, and each other’s company.

The last thing took you by surprise, in a way. You’d expected those brief moments of a break during the day to be your sacred moments of solitude, the usual necessity to avoid getting too cranky around people. As Neil joined you on that second day, you found out that his presence was not bothering you, or at least your social batteries weren’t being drained in their regular manner. Sure, it probably helped that he was incredibly easy on the eyes, but a real treat were those moments when you ventured onto a territory he felt strongly about. In a wink, he was ready to drop his typical composure just to go straight into bubbly rants, gesturing wildly, the blue irises lit by the fire that he most often kept under wraps.

There was nothing more boring than people who lacked passion.

Lucky for you, that was not the case with Neil.

Moreover, he made you laugh.

A dangerous combination.

Alluring, even.

Good thing that you were not one to become smitten that easily.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun, though.

--------

“You need to listen to what the lock has to say,” you prompted, pacing through the room and watching as Neil struggled with a new type of mechanism. “It’s all about feedback.”

He pulled out the tools and rubbed his face, trying to hide the first hints of frustration.

“What if we apply heavier tension to amplify it?” he said and glared at the lock as if it was taunting him from its place on the practice stand.

“Sure, “ - you leaned over the table to rest the chin on your laced fingers - “but can you think of any reasons not to do that, my dear Physics Boy?”

“The higher possibility of breaking tools?”

“Precisely,” you said as you snapped and pointed your fingers. ”Also, you risk binding the pins too tightly and you wouldn’t want that, either.”

Neil sighed and slumped his shoulders.

“So...patience, then?”

“Yes,” you beamed. “It really comes down to one thing - you have to feel it.”

A corner of his lips twitched. “I’ve heard it before,” he said, shifting in his seat.

You shrugged, eyeing him curiously.

“Maybe because that’s one universally useful advice?”

“Would help if I understood it, too.” He gave you a weak smile, but his expression told you he wasn’t convinced.

You hummed in acknowledgment.

“Listen, I can smarten it up for you, but let me just show you what I mean.” You grabbed the second pair of tools from the table and placed them inside the keyway, but as soon as you opened your mouth to provide some follow-up instructions, you got struck by a better idea. Your eyes flared up. “Okay, know what? I’m just gonna-- if you could scoot back a bit--...” you said, shuffling in his direction. Neil’s brows snapped together in consternation, but he moved back. Without further ado, you sat down in front of him, nestling yourself between his spread legs on the edge of the chair, and let out a content sigh. “Should be easier now. Put your hands on mine.“

Neil tensed, and you could swear you heard him swallowing hard behind your back. He followed your suggestion, wrapping his arms around you and placing his hands on top of yours.

“Now, lay your fingers on the tools just above mine,” you continued as you slid your digits back to make more room for him. “Great, try not to press them and focus. Close your eyes, if you want.” As you gently moved the tools, you couldn’t resist but to add, “You can breathe though, you know?”

“Blimey.”

You giggled at the sarcastic bit in his tone and drew a long breath, hoping that Neil would follow it, and focused back on the lock. Purposefully slowing down your movements to allow him to feel how the mechanism responded to your ministrations, you kept sliding the hook back and forth the keyway, setting pin after pin. Neil relaxed after a moment, his shallow breath ghosting over your shoulder got deeper and more steady. His palms rested heavier on your hands, and you marveled at their size again, nibbling on your bottom lip. With all your senses sharpened, you stole a brief moment of self-indulgence, closing your eyes and relishing in the warmth radiating from Neil, the way it enveloped you, carrying a scent of his cologne - airy citrus undertones mixed with hints of powdery musk, a fresh and unostentatious combination you found fitting him so well.

The final click, more pressure and voilà - the lock was open.

“Did you feel it?” you asked softly, weirdly unwilling to move, hoping to linger in the position for a little while longer.

“Yes,” said Neil, and his husky voice made you turn your head to look at him. As he pulled his hands back somewhat hesitantly, you noticed his dazed expression and slightly flushed cheeks.

“Good,” you chirped, grinning, then reached out over your shoulder and lightly booped his nose, enjoying probably a bit too much the way his eyes widened. “Your turn.”

-----

Days. Weeks. Or was it months, plural?

You lost track of how much time had passed since that morning in the Old Town district.

The progress was counted by the number of models you introduced to Neil, showing him all the tricks you’d learned over the years. You still waited for the meeting with The Protagonist, although, ever since your student spilled a little too much information during one of his enthusiastic rants at the breaks (seriously, how could a person that bad at keeping secrets survive so long in any sort of spying business was beyond you), your initial curiosity itch had been scratched, and you were now in that blessed moment before it got unbearable again and demanded taking further actions.

It also helped that you found tremendous joy in coming up with new ways to make the lockpicking sessions challenging. And entertaining. Even if the last part was mostly a one-sided thing.

Neil was clearly feeling confident that evening. He really started to get a hang of this, and you loved watching him like that - fully focused, blonde strands falling to the eyes, with the tip of the tongue poking out...

It would be a shame if someone was to test his level of concentration.

“You know, I spend so much time looking at your hands that they recently started making cameos in my dreams.”

The blue eyes darted at you from under raised brows.

“Is that so?" asked Neil, switching his attention to the lock again.

“Yep. Mind you, most of those dreams are rather uneventful.” You pouted, sliding from your place on the windowsill. “Still waiting for one that is not so boringly PG-13.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and swallowed with effort.

...warmer...

Circling the table, you stopped behind Neil’s chair.

"I’m just saying,” - leaning over, you purred right into his ear - ”that such long fingers like yours can give a girl all sorts of ideas--"

Snap.

You bit back a satisfied smile and smacked your tongue. “Those were perfectly fine tools, you know.”

Neil turned in his seat and gaped at you.

“Why are you like this?” he complained, helpless and flustered.

You shrugged. “I thought it was a high time for a little stress test. Might come in handy later.” Snickering at his puzzled face, you added, “What? You’re not exactly in a stress-free line of work.”

He shook the head lightly and scoffed. “... yeah, I see your point,” he said, a corner of his mouth curling into a half-smile. “But I don’t think there’s a high risk of someone trying to seduce me in the field.”

“Do you think that’s what I’m doing?” you asked, arching a brow, your tone nothing but serious.

“I-...”

The panicked look on his face as he blinked rapidly was more than enough to break your deadpan façade.

“Oh man, I’m just pulling your leg. You should’ve seen your face though.” Giggling, you grabbed a fresh lock from a shelf and tossed it to Neil. He sighed and replaced the messed-up device. “Besides,” you continued, “if there is one thing that the espionage movies have taught me, it’s that the spy always has plenty of beautiful creatures willing to keep his bed warm.”

The playful sparks appeared in Neil’s eyes.

“Is this a very elaborate way of asking me if I’m seeing someone or are you volunteering?”

Well, well, well.

“What if it’s both?”

“Then the first answer is no. As for the second one--” he hesitated, tugging the bottom lip between the teeth. “...a follow-up question - is it a good idea?”

You tilted your head, sitting down on the edge of the table in front of him.

“Why?”

“What if it’s gonna make things… I don’t know, weird?”

You gestured vaguely. “Can’t get any weirder than all your timey-wimey, inverted entropy bullshit.”

“That’s not exactly--”

“I know what you meant,” you sighed and met his darkened gaze, a shade of smile tainting your lips. “And yet, you’re trying to appeal to my reason while looking at me like that.” You left your seat and grabbed your backpack. “It’s getting late. Finish with this one and get some rest.”

Then you left, not waiting for a reply.

It was one of the warm nights and you decided to take a walk. A promenade near the river was not as crowded as you expected, making your journey home way more enjoyable. With your favourite tunes seeping through the headphones, you took in the view, the city lights reflecting in the water only added to the ambiance.

The phone buzzed in your pocket.

//N: I can’t believe you left like that

You chuckled, texting him back.

//why, you had any plans?

The answer came almost instantly.

//N: maybe

He was adorable. But--

//have you finished with the lock?

//N: …no

//N: wait are you gonna use our conversation as some sort of motivational tool now

Even if you weren’t, after getting a message like that?

You just had to.

//maybe?

//N: jesus

//sex is but a great metaphorical carrot. besides - it’s all about that delayed gratification and whatnot

A moment of silence.

And then:

//N: you’re evil.

That spiteful period at the end got you snickering loudly, earning you some curious looks.

A huge grin lit up your face.

//gn <3

-----

You must admit, that game was quite exciting.

And Neil was getting better at it, and soon implying became no longer enough to make him lose his focus.

At first, it was relatively easy to prompt a blush or a slight tremble of a hand. But with every next attempt, he grew more and more resilient, and soon, the only indication that he heard you was the fire burning in his eyes.

Then you got really mean, throwing some ambitious tasks in front of him, tricky locks and complex mechanisms, as your teasing got more straightforward.

And descriptive.

It became hard to shake it off once you left the training room. The lingering looks. The accidental touches. The atmosphere, almost electric. In other words - the heat sink was ready to be popped, and it was no longer a matter of if, but more of when.

“4 minutes.”

Neil barely nodded, lips pressed together and brows knitted in concentration.

3 locks in 15 minutes. Difficult, but doable, considering his current level of skill. Too bad he’d slacked at the second one, not leaving too much time for the final push. Sure, you didn’t go easy on him along the way, but the real challenge was supposed to be a race against the clock, so now you just watched him with bated breath.

Click.

You checked the time.

“45 seconds”

“Goddamnit!” he uttered through gritted teeth, readjusting cramping fingers on the tools.

“Come on, you’ve got this,” you said, taking a step closer.

Another click.

He didn’t know that there was only one pin left to set. You did, that’s why you tried your best not to reveal it with your expression. Too early to celebrate, anyway.

“Nine... eight… seven… six… five…”

That’s when you heard a final click and you looked up from your phone, only to see the lock giving in and opening up.

“Yeah!” Neil cheered, banging a fist on the table and tossing the tools away.

You smiled, hiding the phone in the pocket. “Good job, I knew--” but before you could finish a sentence, Neil sprung up from his chair and closed the gap between you, then cupped your face with his palms and kissed you hungrily.

You froze for a second, but as your mind caught up, you kissed him back, tugging at the light blue shirt. He smiled against your lips and made you back away until you hit the wall, huffing at the sudden coldness of the surface. But he was bent on kissing you senseless until you both ended up gasping for air.

“You’re so paying for all that teasing,” he panted, running the tip of the tongue through his swollen lips. “Not to mention, you’ve given me a few fascinating ideas, and I’m very much willing to give them all a try.”

You grinned, fighting with your evidently short-circuiting brain for a grasp of coherence as his hands traveled down your body.

“My, my, all of them?”

“The night is young,” - his throaty chuckle sent a wave of heat through your body - “and I’m up for a challenge.”

“I’m counting on it,” you breathed, burying your fingers in his hair, and pulling him into a kiss again.

Actually, the challenge started right away, and that meant getting to Neil’s place, as the company conveniently rented him a room in a nearby hotel. Walking distance, but in your current quite heated state, every distance seemed way too long. Especially when you had to keep up appearances.

At least until the elevator’s door closed behind you.

The dark gaze fixed on you. Your breaths intertwining. His bottom lip between your teeth. The five o’clock shadow under your fingertips. Your hands sliding under his shirt. His knee parting your legs. The intoxicating smell of his cologne. Your quiet moan. His tongue slipping into your mouth--

A quiet sound announced you reached your floor, and you stumbled out into the corridor, giggling, unable to keep hands and lips off each other.

Your back hit the door, barely missing the knob. Without skipping a beat, Neil reached to the pocket of his pants, then into the other one. When he tried the third one, you broke the kiss, your expression nothing but innocent.

“Looking for this?” you asked, showing him a key card.

He furrowed his brows. “Yes, thank you, I don’t know how--...” he started, but when he tried to snatch his property, you hid your hand behind your back. His jaw went slack as it dawned on him and he stared at you in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.”

He groaned.

“You’re unbelievable,” he uttered as he pulled out his wallet. “Credit card?”

“Only if you’re not overly attached to it.” The roguish lights danced in your gaze. “Especially when you’re in a hurry,” you hinted, palming over the bulge in his pants. Neil squeezed his eyes shut, biting back a moan, and you stifled a chuckle. “Try any membership card.”

He glared at you. “You’re so in for it, you have no idea.”

“Promises, promises,” you pouted, trying not to burst into laughter at his wounded expression. “Work it.”

“Gladly, just tell me what to do.”

So you walked him through the process.

Fortunately, Neil really was a fast learner, making the door give way in no time.

“Good boy,” you hummed, and the blue eyes flared up.

He crashed his lips on yours, closing the door behind you.

Then he gave you a taste of what was coming for you.

And then some more.

And then…

...he gave you all.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #neil tenet #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #long nights

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geshertzarmeod · 4 years ago

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Favorite Books of 2020

I wanted to put together a list! I read 74 new books this year, and I keep track of that on Goodreads - feel free to add or follow me if you want to see everything! I’m going to focus on the highlights, and the books that stuck with me personally in one way or another, in approximate order. Also, all but two of them (#5 and #7 on the honorable mention list) are queer/trans in some way. Links are to Goodreads, but if you’re looking to get the books, I suggest your library, the Libby app using your library, your local bookstore, or Bookshop.

The Faggots & Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell, illus. by Ned Asta (originally published 1977). I had a hard beginning of the year and was in a work environment where my queerness was just not welcomed or wanted. I read this in the middle of all of that, and it helped me so much. I took this book with me everywhere. I read it on planes. I read it on the bus, and on trains, and at shul. I showed it to friends... sometimes at shul, or professional development conferences. It healed my soul. Now I can’t find it and might get a new copy. When I reviewed it, in February, I wrote: “I think we all need this book right now, but I really needed this book right now. Wow. This book is magic, and brings back a sense of magic and beauty to my relationship with the world.” Also I bought my copy last July, in a gay bookstore on Castro St. in SF, and that in itself is just beautiful to me. (Here’s a post I made with some excerpts)

Once & Future duology, especially the sequel, Sword in the Stars, by A.R. Capetta and Cory McCarthy. Cis pansexual female King Arthur Ari Helix (she's the 42nd reincarnation and the first female one) in futuristic space with Arab ancestry (but like, from a planet where people from that area of earth migrated to because, futuristic space) works to end Future Evil Amazon.com Space Empire with her found family with a token straight cis man and token white person. Merlin is backwards-aging so he's a gay teenager with a crush and thousands of years of baggage. The book’s entire basis is found family, and it's got King Arthur in space. And the sequel hijacks the original myth and says “fuck you pop culture, it was whitewashed and straightwashed, there were queer and trans people of color and strong women there the whole time.” Which is like, my favorite thing to find in media, and a big part of why I love Xena so much. It’s like revisionist history to make it better except it’s actually probably true in ways. Anyway please read these books but also be prepared for an absolutely absurd and wild ride. Full disclosure though, I didn’t love the first book so much, it’s worth it for the sequel!

The Wicker King by K. Ancrum. This book hurt. It still hurts. But it was so good. It took me on a whole journey, and brought me to my destination just like it intended the whole time. The author’s note at the end made me cry! The sheer NEED from this book, the way the main relationship develops and shifts, and how you PERCEIVE the main relationship develops and shifts. I’m in awe of Ancrum’s writing. If you like your ships feral and needy and desperate and wanting and D/S vibes and lowkey super unhealthy but with the potential, with work, to become healthy and beautiful and right, read this book. This might be another one to check trigger warnings for though.

The Entirety of The Daevabad Trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty. I hadn’t heard of this series until this year, when a good friend recommended it to me. It filled the black hole in me left by Harry Potter. The political and mystical/fantasy world building is just *chef’s kiss* - the complexity! The morally grey, everyone’s-done-awful-things-but-some-people-are-still-trying-to-do-good tapestry! The ROMANCE oh my GOD the romance. If I’m absolutely fully invested in a heterosexual romance you know a book is good, but also this book had background (and then later less background) queer characters! And the DRAMA!!! The third book went in a direction that felt a little out of nowhere but honestly I loved the ride. I stayed up until 6am multiple times reading this series and I’d do it again.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon. I loved this book so much that it’s the only book I reviewed on my basically abandoned attempt at a book blog. This book is haunting, horrifying, disturbing, dark, but so, so good. The character's voices were so specific and clear, the relationships so clearly affected by circumstance and yet loving in the ways they could be. This is my favorite portrayal of gender maybe ever, it’s just... I don’t even have the words but I saw a post @audible-smiles made about it that’s been rattling in my head since. And, “you gender-malcontent. You otherling,” as tender pillow talk??? Be still my heart. Be ready, though, this book has all the triggers.. it’s a .

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender. This book called me out on my perspective on love. Also, it made me cry a lot. And it has two different interesting well-written romance storylines. And a realistic coming-into-identity narrative about a Black trans demiboy. And a nuanced discussion of college plans and what one might do after college. And some big beautiful romcom moments. I wish I had it in high school. I’m so glad I have it now! (trigger warning for transphobia & outing, but the people responsible are held accountable by the end, always treated as not okay by the narrative, and the MC’s friends, and like... this is ownvoices and it’s GOOD.)

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. My Goodreads review says, “I have no idea what happened, and I loved it.” That’s not wrong, but to delve deeper, this book has an ethereal feeling that you get wrapped up in while reading. Nothing makes sense but that’s just as it should be. You’re hooked. It is so atmospheric, so meta, so fascinating. I’ve seen so many people say they interpreted this character or that part or the ending in all different ways and it all makes sense. And it’s all of this with a gay main character and romance and the central theme, the central pillar being a love of and devotion to stories. Of course I was going to love it.

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl’s Confabulous Memoir by Kai Cheng Thom. “Because maybe what really matters isn’t whether something is true, or false. Maybe what matters is the story itself; what kinds of doors it opens, what kinds of dreams it brings.” This book was so good and paradigm shifting. It reminded me of #1 on this list in the way it turns real life experience and hard, tragic ones at that (in this case, of being a trans girl of color who leaves home and tries to make a life for herself in the city, with its violence), into a beautiful, haunting fable. Once upon a time.

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver. I need to reread this book, as I read it during my most tranceful time of 2020 and didn’t write a review, so I forgot a lot. What I do remember is beautiful and important nonbinary representation, a really cute romance, an interesting parental and familial/sibling dynamic that was both heartbreaking and hopeful, and an on-page therapy storyline. Also Mason Deaver just left twitter but was an absolutely hilarious troll on it before leaving and I appreciate that (and they just published a Christmas novella that I have but haven’t read yet!)

The Truth Is by NoNieqa Ramos. It took a long time to trust this book but I’m so glad I did. It’s raw and real and full of grief and trauma (trigger warnings, that I remember, for grief, death (before beginning of book), and gun violence). The protagonist is flawed and gets to grow over the course of the book, and find her own place, and learn from the people around her, while they also learn to understand her and where she’s coming from. It’s got a gritty, harsh, and important portrayal of found family, messy queerness, and some breathtaking quotes. When I was 82% through this book I posted this update: “This book has addressed almost all of my initial hesitations, and managed to complicate itself beautifully.”

Anger is a Gift by Mark Oshiro. I wasn’t actually in the best mental health place to read this book when I did (didn’t quite understand what it was) but it definitely reminded me of what there is to fight against and to fight for, and broke my heart, and nudged me a bit closer to hope. The naturally diverse cast of characters was one of the best parts of this book. The romance is so sweet and tender and then so painful. This book is important and well-written but read it with caution and trigger warnings - it’s about grief and trauma and racism and police brutality, but also about love and community.

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden. This is a sci-fi/fantasy/specfic mashup that takes place in near-future South Africa and has world-building myths with gods and demigoddesses and a trip to the world of the dead but also a genetically altered hallucinogenic drug that turns people into giant animals and a robot uprising and a political campaign and a transgender pop star and a m/m couple and all of them are connected. It’s bonkers. Like, so, so absolutely mind-breaking weird. And I loved it.

Crier’s War and Iron Heart by Nina Varela. I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVED the amount of folktales they told each other with queer romances as integral to those stories, especially in Iron Heart. A conversation between the two leads where Crier says she wants to read Ayla like a book, and Ayla says she’s not a book, and Crier explains all the different ways she wants to know Ayla, like a person, and wants to deserve to know her like a person, made me weak. It lives in my head rent-free.

Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston @ekjohnston . I listened to this book on Libby and then immediately listened to it at least one more time, maybe twice, before my borrow time ran out. I love Padmé, and just always wish that female Star Wars characters got more focus and attention and this book gave me that!! And queer handmaidens! And the implication that Sabé is in love with Padmé and that’s just something that will always be true and she will always be devoted and also will make her own life anyway. And the Star Wars audiobooks being recorded the way they are with background sounds and music means it feels like watching a really long detailed beautiful Star Wars movie just about Padmé and her handmaidens.

Sissy: A Coming of Gender Story by Jacob Tobia. I needed to read this. The way Tobia talks about their experience of gender within the contexts of college, college leadership, and career, hit home. I kept trying to highlight several pages in a row on my kindle so I could go back and read them after it got returned to the library (sadly it didn’t work - it cuts off highlights after a certain number of characters). The way they talk about TOKENISM they way they talk about the responsibilities of the interviewer when an interviewee holds marginalized identities especially when no one else in the room does!!! Ahhhh!!!

Bonds of Brass by Emily Skrutskie. Disclaimer for this one that the author was rightfully criticized for writing a Black main character as a white author (and how the story ended up playing into some fucked up stuff that I can’t really unpack without spoiling). But also, the author has been working to move forward knowing she can’t change the past, has donated her proceeds, and this book is really good? It has all the fanfic tropes, so much delicious tension, a totally unexpected plot twist that had me immediately rereading the book. This book was super fun and also kind of just really really good Star Wars fanfiction.

How To Be a Normal Person by T.J. Klune. This book was so sweet, and cute, and hopeful, and both ridiculous and so real. I had some trouble getting used to Gus’ voice and internal monologue, but I got into it and then loved every bit after. The ace rep is something I’ve never seen like this before (and have barely read any ace books but still this was so fleshed out and well rounded and not just like, ‘they’re obsessed with swords not sex’ - looking at you, Once & Future - and leaving it there.) This all felt like a slice of life and I feel like I learned about people while reading it. Some of the moments are so, so funny, some are vaguely devastating. I have been personally victimized by TJ Klune for how he ends this book (a joke, you will know once you read it) but it also reminds me of the end of the “You Are There” episode of Xena and we all know what the answer to that question was.... and I choose to believe the answer here was similar.

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson. I wish I had this book when I was in high school. I honestly have complicated feelings about prom and haven’t really been seeking out contemporary YA so I was hesitant to read this but it was so good and so well-written, and had a lot of depth to it. The movie (and Broadway show) “The Prom” wants what this book has.

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. I never read horror books, so this was a new thing for me. I loved the feeling of this book, the way I felt fully immersed. I loved how entirely queer it was. I was interested in the characters and the relationships, even though we didn’t have a full chance to go super deep into any one person but rather saw the connections between everyone and the way the stories matched up with each other. I just wanted a bit of a more satisfying ending.

Honorable Mention: reread in 2020 but read for the first time pre-2020

Red White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. I couldn’t make this post without mentioning this book. It got me through this year. I love this book so much; I think of this book all the time. This book made me want to find love for myself. You’ve all heard about it enough but if you haven’t read this book what are you DOING.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan @sarahreesbrennan . I reread this one over and over too, both as text and as an audiobook. I went for walks when I had lost my earbuds and had Elliott screaming about an elf brothel loudly playing and got weird looks from someone walking their dog. I love this book so much. It’s just so fun, and so healing to read a book reminiscent of all the fantasies I read as a kid, but with a bi main character and a deconstruction of patriarchy and making fun of the genre a bit. Also, idiots to lovers is a great trope and it’s definitely in this book.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. This book is forever so important to me. I am always drawn in by how tenderly Sáenz portrays his characters. These boys. These boys and their parents. I love them. I love them so much. This is another one where I don’t even know what to say. I have more than 30 pages in my tag for this book. I have “arda” set as a keyboard shortcut on my phone and laptop to turn into the full title. This book saved my life.

Last Night I Sang to the Monster by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. This book hurts to read - it’s a story about trauma, about working through that trauma, healing enough to be ready to hold the worst memories, healing enough to move through the pain and start to make a life. It’s about found family and love and pain and I love it. It’s cathartic. And it’s a little bit quietly queer in a beautiful way, but that’s not the focus. Look up trigger warnings (they kind of are spoilery so I won’t say them here but if you have the potential to be triggered please look them up or ask me before reading)

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine. When asked what my all time favorite book is, it’s usually this one. Gail Carson Levine has been doing live readings at 11am since the beginning of the pandemic shut down in the US, and the first book she read was Ella Enchanted. I’ve been slowly reading it to @mssarahpearl and am just so glad still that it has the ability to draw me in and calm me down and feels like home after all this time. This book is about agency. I love it.

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman @chronicintrovert . I’ve had this on my all-time-faves list since I read it a few years ago and ended up rereading it this year before sending a gift copy to a friend, so I could write little notes in it. It felt a little different reading it this time - as I get further away from being a teenager myself, the character voice this book is written in takes a little longer to get used to, but it’s so authentic and earnest and I love it. I absolutely adore this book about platonic love and found family and fandom and mental illness and abuse and ace identity and queerness and self-determination, especially around college and career choices. Ahhh. Thank you Alice Oseman!!!

Leia: Princess of Alderaan by Claudia Gray @claudiagray . I have this one on audible and reread it several times this year. I love the fleshing out of Leia’s story before the original trilogy, I love her having had a relationship before Han, and the way it would have affected her perspective. I also am intrigued by the way it analyses the choices the early rebellion had to make... I just, I love all the female focused new Star Wars content and the complexity being brought to the rebellion.

#red white and royal blue #aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe #osemanverse #star wars #queer books #lgbtq books #books #alice oseman #miri personal #wow this took so long but was so worth it!#long post #book recs #PS: if you've read any of these or have questions about any of these books #this is your formal invitation to talk to me about them!!!! even if i don't know you at all!#even if i don't follow you and even if you don't follow me!#my ask box is open anon is on!#original content

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hedgefairy · 4 years ago

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Eeeey, we haven't had another episode of Bridgerton recaps in a while! But here we are, it's

Bridgerton, Episode 5

(if you missed the rest, the tag is #Bridgerbore)

Okay, so I dig the whole muddy hem business (short reminder, we were at this duel thing last time, and Daphne was very much a dramatic Regency heroine, throwing herself into the fire and everything), but I'm really not sure about her undies.

Lady B has a hangover, which is hilarious, and Daphne comes in like "I'm engaged", to Dukey, of course, they all annoy me so much. Cue Lady B fanning herself, and then Daphne goes on about how they want to marry NOW, because THE KISS and it would be such a scandal if that ever came out? I don't think society would mind if you stayed engaged for a while longer, I don't think anyone cares, you self-obsessed brat. Mummy thinks they had steaming hot intercourse and that's why they want to marry ASAP, and apparently that's the best hangover cure that there ist. (I'm not a fan, hangover Lady B was more sufferable than the usual version.)

The queen wears bright red gems with pink silk and it does not look fly at all.

The blue dress Daphne's wearing is pretty for once.

Her rival (CRESSIDAAAAA) and her mother smirk at each other in a carriage because they are scheming, and evil, and we can see that because they are dressed flamboyantly and have complex hairstyles. Also, Cress saw D&D kiss and now they can destroy her or something.

Oh poor Freddie Baby, he's just the cutest but he's about to take his leave because Daphne was the only girl he liked, like, ever, because she's such a diamond of the purest water, adieu, sweet prince.

Everybody keeps promenading without coats or spencers and I'm all "noooo", because it just looks so wrong. Someone give Daphne a stole or a cardigan, it's doesn't even seem particularly warm outside. Her hat also sucks (is that a fascinator? I demand bonnets!), but at least it's not the stupid Wendy bow, so I guess that's progress?

Lord B gets slammed in the face with the door by the dressmaker because Opera Girl up and left. See, Lord B, that's because you're a little bitch and she's done with your shit.

Ducktail Colin visits Cousin, and Penny desperately tries to cockblock him. It's somewhat painful to see, but also strangely realistic (I guess that's why it's painful).

Uuuh, we get a kitchen scene in preparation for the wedding! I love it. Also, the servants are annoyed by all of this, just like me. I hereby petition to replace at least 75% of the D&D (hell, make it all Bridgertons) appearances by Regency food porn.

At the dressmaker's workshop Cressida (who I still think is prettier than Daphne) bitches about and Daphne bitches back, why is no-one wearing bonnets?

The next Whistledown issue is out as Freddie takes his final bow just to leave me heartbroken because he genuinely didn't suck. The Queen bitches, what else is new.

The Archbishop says the early wedding is a no-no, and I still suspect that it's a general case of making things more dramatic than they have to be. Oh, turns out it's the Queen who's the spanner in the works because she didn't get enough attention lately.

Back to the Bohemian party! Yay! It's a fucking bacchanal and I love it. French dressmaker lady is there, too, cut to her and Middle Bridgerbro having a heated make-out session. Aaand the host is at least bi – they find out by barging in on him and his lover during what I guess is the quest for an unoccupied bedroom. Threesome time!! (Her stays are more than questionable, though)

Dukey is completely drunk in the gutter because they kicked him out of the pub. I approve. Not sure of what of the above, probably all.

Cousin plots to seduce Ducktail Colin so she can get him into marrying her. Lady F is in, but Penny eavesdrops (heartbrokenly).

Whoooo, it's George III! Him and Charlotte discuss the Regent but sadly George IV still does not feature. Another child (Amelia) is discussed – never mind that the historical George III and Charlotte had no less than fifteen children – but apparently she's dead (the historical Amelia died age 27 and it distressed George greatly, but here it is delivered as if she was just an infant.). Oh, look, George is bonkers and thinks the Queen killed her. Nice one, Netflix, treating his illness like this and then completely glossing over it again.

Daphne, please stop tossing and turning and sighing, get yourself off, it works wonders. But no, instead she goes to her lady's maid and gets a pep talk about how she can still be happy without offspring.

Cut to Dukey waking up in Boxing Bro's place.

People I'd rather have a series about. A non-exhaustive list by me.

Penny and Eloise

Eloise

Benedict & The Bohemians (could also be a good band name)

Prince Freddie

Boxing Bro and his family

Opera Girl & The French Dressmaker

Cressida the Rival Bitch

The Servants

Dukey's exploits at college

Daphne's dress at her audience is so horribly ill-fitting.

How can Dukey be a rake if he doesn't even like flirting? It it pheromones? Do the ladies simply fall over when he walks by? The heck? Someone explain! His appeal to the Queen, however, is really lovely, no shade.

The wedding is LAUGHABLY small. Nobody would ever get through with this. You can't tell me they couldn't fill a small chapel like that, at least with some staff. It is supposed to be "intimate", because you guys are Regency nobility and this will not stand. Good God, Daphne, he's putting a ring on your finger, not his body parts inside of you.

However, the reception is huge. This does not make sense, except from a very American modern standpoint. I'm here for the food porn, though.

At the party Cressida bitches about and Penny (again, desperately) tries to hook up Cousin with anyone but Ducktail Colin. Eloise is still trying to figure out who Gossip Girl really is.

Cousin Wears-Curtains-Again tries to seduce Ducktail Colin in the study, alas, he's too honourable, but wants to marry her nevertheless, but he wants to wait. She can't wait, though, because of the pregnancy thing, oh no!

The Queen is at the reception, too. You can't tell me that the woman who tried to intervene with the getting wed thing as a whole because she didn't get enough attention is okay with being at the reception and not the church? 'scuse me? What is a characterisation, even.

Turns out Lady Danbury (remember, Dukey's awesome fairy godmother) isn't Whistledown, but the Queen is intrigued by Eloise's investigations. Also, Middle Bridgerbro had a threesome with not only the Dressmaker but also his (hopefully bi, because representation, probably gay because cliché) host's wife. Awkward to meet her again on your sister's wedding day.

Daphne gets THE TALK from Lady B, whose boobs are glorious in this scene, but honestly, couldn't you have done that on any other day?

I cannot bear to watch this while I'm eating.

Is Daphne going to wear her hair up now that she's married, at least?

Sappy goodbyes ensue as Dukey and Daphney go off to their honeymoon. Her cloak looks like a bedsheet.

How is this episode not over yet?

Oh no, they'll spend their wedding night at and inn rather than at a palace. Awkward silence ensues on the ride there, but the landscape and the inn are pretty.

Man, that centre part and those bangs look so. Bad.

They have separate bedrooms, which is a bit weird but so is this whole inn business. *shrugs * Daphne paces in hers, Dukey in his, and this writer is reminded of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Drama. Ugh. Communication is key.

Here we go with the make-up sex, though, and here we also go with the soft porn my best friend already warned me ab... no fucking shift! Are these stays laced with satin ribbon?

Oh look, it's Dukey topless again. Daphne's face just annoys me to no end. I'm so sorry because she really can't do anything about it, she was born with it, but it annoys me.

Uh, Dukey butt! I have the sudden urge to burst into "First Penis" from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. They really made a song for every occasion.

Dukey, couldn't you have started with your hands? What is a foreplay? "Hey, girl, remember when I told you to get yourself off? This is basically the same!" *inserts genitals * It's fairly tastefully shot soft porn, though.

I don't think she came. How about oral now?

God, we made it into the second half of this series.

Give me strength.

This concludes Episode 5.

To Be Continued

(maybe with female orgasms?)

#Bridgerbore #Bridgerton #recap #uuugh

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legobiwan · 5 years ago

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Just got home from The Rise of Skywalker. No pithy intro, I’m just going to jump right in and it’s going to be a LONG rant here so buckle up, my friends, and be sure to read below the cut. SPOILERS AHOY YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Okay, so yes, the first third of the movie went at a blistering, nearly nonsensical pace. JJ really had to cram a whole watermelon’s worth of exposition into a...well, you know, there was a lot to take in. This movie had to do so much telling instead of showing because it was such a departure (and middle finger to TLJ) from what came before.

The thing was, the first third was also the most interesting part of the movie. I actually wish the whole trilogy had started with all of the Sith nonsense. (Actually, I wish they had started with Kylo absolutely wrecking shit like he did and then the Palpatine scene. People would have made all the wrong assumptions and it would have been glorious to unravel it over three films.) There is a strong history of Sith artifacts in both Nu-Canon and Legends, and it wouldn’t have been out of place, considering what we know now, to have made Rey, Poe, and Finn’s quest for these artifacts the start of the new trilogy, and then told the rest of the story in a non-linear timeline. Probably too experimental for a Star Wars reboot, but it would have grabbed attention and everyone like creepy Sith shit.

Frankly, I would have dropped zombie-robot Palpatine at the very start of the trilogy, as well. It’s bonkers but I don’t hate the Rey Palpatine thing and they could have spent the rest fo the movies explaining this weird-ass lineage and how it relates to Kylo, Snoke, etc. and then have built back to the final confrontaion on Exegol.

Leia. Trained. Rey. I so so so so so wished we had been able to get more of this. This, in my mind, is what it should have been all along. I liked TLJ (okay, so shoot me) but Master Leia is a whole other level of awesome. If I had to rewrite Luke and Leia’s roles, it would have went something like this:

Luke was searching for Sith artifacts. Luke was becoming disillusioned by what he was learning of the Jedi through “The Sacred Texts.” WHO DOES THAT SOUND LIKE? Hmmmm, I wonder....

Could you imagine Luke started to go a little Dooku in this respect, and so instead of fucking off the Ach-To because he had a feeling that was more “gravy than of grave” about Ben Solo’s dark sidedness, he fucked off to Ach-To - or even better - gave up training in order to keep himself from going down a darker path.

And so instead, Leia is getting involved with training (and probably also governing at the same time because she would be an overachiever like that.)

Enter Ben Solo, who is Force sensitive, strong, being trained by his mother and occasionally his uncle, who is not totally plugged into the light side at the moment, which can rub off on Ben. Meanwhile, Han is maybe not the best father (he wants to be, he tries, but it all comes out wrong. I’ve been watching a lot of Psych lately, so I’m thinking of a dynamic similar to Henry and Shawn, but a little more dramatic.)

Of course, Palpatine is seeing all of this behind the scenes, he’s fostering ill will and discontent through the scattered remains of the Empire, sending Snoke clones out to be almost pseudo-religious/cult figures in the wake of the economic and social devastation left by the Empire’s fall and the floundering new government. Extremism, in pockets, rises. Extremism which preys on discontent, which preys of the desire for family, for belonging.

Enter again Ben Solo, who has been pitted against the other strongest trainee, Rey (insert whatever last name you want. She knows it’s not her real name, she knows she was an orphan on Jakku, but she was brought by Luke to be trained). Ben is pissed how she and Leia bond, has been talking to his uncle, and perhaps encountered a Snoke clone on the way.

Rey, on the other hand, is no one but wants to be someone, and that manifests in weird ways during her training. Perhaps she leaves at some point, perhaps not. But the seeds of her being Palpatine’s bloodline are laid within her. She wants to seek that belonging Ben has.

Okay, but getting away from my personal rewrites of the sequels, Star Wars is about family and lineage, both blood and found. There was so much potential to play on this throughout the trilogy with the Skywalkers, with Rey’s relation to Palps that if they had just planned the damn thing, it could have been brilliant.

Moving ...(for now)

I felt so bad for Oscar Isaac. I felt like I watched his soul slowly depart his body over almost 3 hours. That man was not a happy camper and it came out in his performance.

Power levels. Here’s the thing, guys. Magic needs to have consequences. Sure, you can cast a spell, but what does that take from you? You can use the Force, but to what degree? How much? Even Anakin exhausted himself at some points, and he was (allegedly, according to one Qui-gon Jinn), the Chosen One. It’s the first law of thermodynamics - energy can neither be created nor destroyed - and the Force is literally the energy of every life thing in the galaxy. You take the energy, use it towards something else, it has to drain from somewhere. This is what bugged the hell out of me with Rey’s Force Healing abilities (an ability that doesn’t thrill me to begin with as it’s so easy to overuse). Kylo keels from resurrecting the dead (and yeah, he was pretty beat up already), but Rey barely seems to breathe a beat harder. Once you start ignoring the consequences for magic, you end up like a shitty video game, and one of the criticisms I’ve leveled at the movie is that it feels like a montage of Battlefront and I can’t say that’s totally off point.

JEDI HUNTERS. Ochi. I will bet my right liver we’re going to hear something about this on The Mandalorian.

So I know a lot of people wanted to see Rey Kenobi, but there was one piece of glaring evidence in the film why that would never be. (Aside from Kylo just announcing it to Rey.) She has a lightsaber, but she still ends up using a blaster. So uncivilized.

Speaking of The Mandalorian - Stormtroopers with Mando jetpacks. Hmmm.....

I loved techno-Sheev hooked up to all the equipment just floating. That was creepy as hell and played with the whole cloning and extension of life that was such a large part of the Darth Plagueis novel (which I still consider to be canon, higher powers be damned). Also, Palpy’s glowup with the wardrobe was hilarious.

Dark!Rey was hot. There, I said it.

Let’s talk about romance. Or the lack thereof. Or the shoehorned thereof.

Poor Rose got shafted in this film with no explanation. I didn’t buy that whole thing in TLJ, but god damn anyway. (Finn also got shafted, for different reasons, which I will talk about later.)

If they were going to romance, just let it have been Finn and Poe, Finn and Rey, or fuck it, even a trio.

I mean, I could have bought Reylo if it had been presented better. (With context. Adam Driver is an amazing actor, another thing I’ll talk about later.)

The Reylo kiss though - my theater laughed. No joke.

Of course, this was the same theater that thought Lando was trying to mack on Jannah at the end, so who knows what we were all thinking in there. (On that note, Lando was hilarious because no matter what, he was just having a grand ‘ol time in the movie. I like to think he got a medical spice card in his retirement years and was just enjoying anything that came his way, be it Wookiees, Jedi, starships, wars, whatever.)

While the Reylo kiss didn’t hit the mark the space lesbian background kiss got cheers, so there was some hope for my fellow theater-goers.

Did anyone pick up on Threepio saying the Senate made the bill that would render him incapable of translating the Sith language? No doubt that was a Palpatine move from TCW era.

What is up with these movies and desert/jungle planets? Ugh. Thank everyone for Kijimi, at least that was interesting.

New characters I loved: Babu Frik and DO.

Finn’s Force sensitivity. Yes, I totally buy it. I wanted more. I wanted more fucking context of a Stormtrooper who would have known nothing of the Jedi getting these feelings and then bailing from the First Order (or, if I were writing the movies, bailing from the remnants of the Empire/Snokes weird military cults.) Totally underutilized character development.

We. Were. Robbed. of Good!Ben. Adam Driver is so phenomenal. Form the little we saw of redeemed Ben, he is the perfect mix of his parents, from the “Ow” to the eyebrow wagging, the swagger, the smirks...I LOVED good!Ben. I wanted so much more good!Ben. What a transformation.

Speaking of which - the scene between Kylo/Ben and Han was terrific. I wish we had had more context for why everything went south, but it was so good and the type of family dynamic we really needed more of.

The Knights of Ren looked awesome in this film? They needed to be like the Black Order of Star Wars, and they were getting to it, but not quite there. Gods, they could have been the enforcers of Snoke’s cults (Palpy’s puppet cults) that could terrorize far more than a normal, brainwashed Stormtrooper, who was only useful as cannon fodder (I mean, if we look at the history of the clone army to the Stormtroopers, it would be terribly fitting.)

That ship tug-of-war was DUMB. (See my rant about magic and consequences). But, if Rey was going to shoot lightening Palpy-style and blow up a ship, Chewie should have died. I’m sorry, that’s terrible, I love him, but there needed to be consequences for actions and throughout the film, there were either no consequences or random consequences that were a narrative convenience rather than developed into the plot/characterization/worldbuilding.

Here’s the thing with the ST - there is so much potential. There are some awesome ideas. But they wanted to play if safe with JJ by rebooting the OT, Rian was too far out for them, there was no cohesive storytelling, and so we get these little glimpses into what could have been amidst a shitstorm of trailers for Battlefront 17.

we could have had it allll....

Final rating: 4/10

#the rise of skywalker #the rise of skywalker spoilers #tros spoilers #tros #hello there #rants from the lego compound #and what an appropriate tag it is #rey #kylo ren #finn #poe dameron #sheev palpatine #leia organa #luke skywalker #han solo #bunch of other characters i'm not tagging right now

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theladyspooks · 5 years ago

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In Morte, Aerternitatis Ch. 4: What’s In A Name?

(special notes for this chapter: for extra emphasis, play “Pan’s Labyrinth Lullaby” during Anya’s dream sequence as linked in the song title)

______________________________________

“Now remember, moya lyubov’, never ever and I mean NEVER say that name five times.”

“But Mama, all the other kids said I’d be the coolest kid in school!”

“Net, if I ever hear talk of this nonsense again I’ll homeschool you myself.”

A 10 year old Vadim sat dejectedly at the table with his mother, her expression stern yet concerned.

“Mama? Rodnoy brat?” A seven year old Anastasia rubbed her eyes in confusion at being woken up by her brother’s complaining. Vadim never knew how to master his inside voice.

“Anya, moy rebenok” Elena cooed at her youngest, “What are you doing up, moye ditya?” She scooped her daughter into her lap.

“I heard Vadim talking about The Candyma-” Elena put a firm hand over her daughter’s mouth.

“Anastasia Ilyena Fyodorov, if I ever hear you say that name again you will spend a week in your room” Anya’s eyes widened, “That goes for you as well, Vadim. Have I taught the both of you nothing?” Vadim stood up.

“But Mama, why can’t we say it?” Her hand dropped from Anya’s mouth as she placed her next to Vadim, squatting down to place her hands on their shoulders.

“There is power in a name, moi deti. To say it out loud is to acknowledge. Once you do this there is no going back, you forfeit any and all say in what happens. Words are powerful and a name is a word. Remember this and promise me you will not say that one, no matter who tells you to do it.” Elena smiled as her children nodded in understanding.

Anya had been too young to fully understand what her mother had meant. At that age, her brain understood that Candyman was a bad word that would result in punishment if she said it. Bad words were a no-no in her house growing up and Elena Fyodorov always made good on her punishments if need be.

Now though, standing in front of her best friend of six years in a hospital bathroom, she finally understood what her mother had meant.

Annie had performed the silent dare so to speak, she had stared a mirror down and uttered a forbidden name five times for all to see. Normally she’d find the whole idea insane, wouldn’t believe it if she didn’t see it.

The problem was she had.

She’d seen the hook in Paul’s back, watched the tall stranger stalk towards; smelled the distinct scent of honey and blood emanating from his very pores. Most importantly though, she’d felt his touch as clear as day. The metal of his hook was terrifying enough, but the skin of his other? That was bone and muscle and blood all wrapped in flesh that put the night sky to shame.

He was real. He was real because Annie had made him so.

“Oh god, Annie…” She rubbed a hand down her face. Paul had paid the price, but only barely as a result of Annie’s need to reassure her kids.

“I know! God Anya, I know! I’ve been tearing my hair out over it all night” She turned the faucet on and splashed her face with cold water, “He could’ve killed you, hell he almost killed Paul! If you hadn’t come along…” A shudder ran through her spine as she watched Annie dry her face.

“He could’ve killed you too, Ann. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t try if you’re the one that called him.” That had been a big thought in her head. The way the legend went, whoever spoke the name five times in a mirror would be split from groin to gullet; yet he’d seemingly spared Annie.

“He spoke to me in my bathroom when he first appeared” Now that caught her attention, “He said that I had a journey to make with him and then when you passed out-” She looked at Anya and shook her head, “He caught you and just stared at you for what felt like hours before putting you down. When he did he told me that I- we were his.” She felt her throat close.

“We? As in you and Paul?” She knew the answer before the question left her mouth.

“No. We as in you and I, Anya.”

“That makes no sense!” She yelled as a nurse wandered into the bathroom, promptly turning back the way she came at the sight of the irritated Russian before her, “I didn’t say his name into a mirror, not once! How is it that he wants me? Why would he leave me the fl-” Annie’s head perked up.

“Anya? What were you going to say?” Annie attempted to make eye contact with Anya, watching her eyes widen.

“It really was him” She whispered in shock before looking up at Annie, “The day we went to the shrine, I left a flower as an offering; a gardenia. After hearing about Purcell’s story I just- I don’t know, I felt sentimental about the man behind the legend.” She scoffed and looked at Annie’s bewildered face.

“When I was done at work I heard a knock, but by the time I came to the door there was no one there except-” She reached into her purse and pulled out the first amaryllis, “-except this.” Annie took the flower from her and studied it as if she’d find the answers she was looking for. “It’s an amaryllis, it means something along the lines of beauty and worth. Then just last night I woke up with another in my hand” She pulled out the second bloom, “The hand he held before I fainted.” Annie relinquished the flower back to her confused companion.

“As creepy as that is, it still doesn’t make any sense. You didn’t say his- wait, you didn’t say his name right?” Anya nearly barked out laughter at that.

“Jesus Annie, of course not! My mother instilled the fear of god into me as a child about even saying Candyman in conversation!”

“So what, you give him a flower and suddenly he wants to be your best friend?”

“I know how it sounds without you repeating it, Annie Tarrant! He may have left me flowers, but he never appeared to me; not like he did with you” She strained to keep her voice leveled, “Have you seen him since last night in any way?”

Annie’s eyes widened slightly, her breathing becoming deeper as she nodded.

“When Paul was still in surgery I was in his intended room waiting. I looked up at the windows and he was there, in the reflection just looking at me. He told me that I’d brought him here, that I needed to come with him and there was this...this painting? I don’t know, but then-” She closed her eyes as if to block out the memory, “-then there was a vision of him slitting Mom’s throat.” She could no longer hold her tears back at the reminder of what she’d seen.

Any irritation Anya had felt before evaporated at the sight of Annie’s vulnerability, her maternal instincts took over as she embraced the shaking blonde. Annie would never do something she knew would bring harm to the people she cared for, it just wasn’t in her nature. As much as Elena had always warned them of names and the power they held, it was ludicrous to think that actually performing a childhood dare would make him flesh. Vadim had performed the Bloody Mary dare on more than one occasion unbeknownst to their mother and he had always come out laughing, no vengeful ghost to speak of.

Yet while Annie had uttered the infamous name, Anya had not and yet- and yet she could still sense him; sense his now unmistakable presence. As long as she didn’t say his name she’d be safe, hopefully, long enough to help Annie. Now that she knew Candyman was indeed real, it made more sense as to why Ethan had been acting so odd. While he’d still been an arrogant fool in the face of help he clearly had been trying to protect them, tried to keep the idea of Candyman a dead man’s tale.

That had backfired spectacularly.

“Anya, I don’t know what to do. What if he tries to hurt Paul again?” Annie clutched Anya’s back as if a lifeline.

“The only thing we can do is figure out what he wants and how to stop him. The sooner we do that the longer we can stay alive.” She pulled back from the hug as Annie calmed herself, but one question remained.

“You still didn’t fully answer my question” Anya cocked her head in confusion, “What does he want with you if you haven’t said his name?” While it wasn’t something she wanted to think about, Annie had a point.

“That’s something I intend to find out.”

______________________________

She was insane, nutty, absolutely bonkers for wanting to go back to that shrine. It wasn’t a good idea in any way, shape or form and really how could it be? Going there in the first place was purely academic if not a tad sentimental, but wanting to go again after everything? No sane human being in their right mind would dare.

Alas, here she was, standing before the screaming mural alone.

Something about being alone in here this time around felt more dangerous. Perhaps because only the night before her friends had nearly died at the hands of the man she’d paid her respects to; the man she thought to be a myth long buried. The only comfort she had was that she had not used his name in front of the mirror, rendering him unable to physically manifest in her presence. Even with that thought she could still feel him there with her, as if he was waiting in the shadows hoping she’d call to him properly.

“I suppose we’re past the point of formalities at this rate” She crossed her arms and kept her gaze on the lit candles before her, “You did try to kill my friend, after all.” No response greeted her as she bit her lip.

“I don’t think Annie knew what she was doing when she called you, it was purely selfless. That’s Annie for you though, putting her life at risk in order to calm down a few rowdy boys- boys that were up in arms over you I might add!” If someone were to come in at this moment, they’d most assuredly be calling the psych ward at the sight of a crazed redhead talking to a wall.

She started to pace and rake her nails through mussed red tresses, eyes wandering from mural to mural in agitation. She finally settled on the one that showed Candym- Daniel being restrained by jeering dandies in preparation to saw off his hand; his mouth agape and eyes wide in fear.

“I won’t pretend to understand what you went through, be hard pressed to find anyone that could I think” She once again found herself reaching out to touch his restrained hand, “To die for love- die for loving someone that society deems against the norm isn’t quite as romantic as philosophers make it out to be. My uncle learned that the hard way…” She trailed off, letting her fingers slip down the wall and back to her side.

No, she wouldn’t share more of herself with this man after what he’d done.

“Look” She turned with a new found ferocity back to the shrine, “I don’t know what you want with Annie, you would have killed her already if you had no use for her. Say the name and end them groin to gullet, right? Well whatever you’re planning, I won’t let you have her so easily; she’s had enough taken from her” Her eyes bore into the mismatched painted ones as if daring him to come uncalled, “And so have I.” With one last long look at the mural Anya turned to leave with the setting sun, long lit candles extinguishing behind her only seconds after with a strong gust of wind.

______________________________

That night found her in her bed with Philip Purcell’s book, trying to absorb as much information as she could.

Daniel Robitaille...

Born to slaves…

Educated…

Artist by trade…

Fell in love…

Died for love…

The pages turned rapidly as she attempted to learn more about this man, eyes not moving fast enough for her liking. If it wasn’t for the manner in which his story ended, his life almost could have been the perfect romance. Two people from different worlds falling into each other's arms thanks to a commissioned painting, a child as a result of their passions.

Unfortunately tragedy and hatred presented at the forefront of this story. Never would their love have been allowed to continue due to their statuses in life; the different color of their skin.

Yet Daniel was the one who was punished- was the one who paid with his life and, evidently, his soul.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely fair of her to think. The thought of having to watch the man you love die as his child grew within you, knowing he’d never get to love them the way they deserved to be loved; the way he deserved to be loved.

Maybe a good night’s rest would clear her mind enough to do more research in the morning. She placed the book in the top drawer of her nightstand, her eye catching on the two red flowers that still lay on the surface next to her lamp.

“Worth beyond beauty…” Her fingertips grazed the petals of one as if in a trance before shaking herself out of it and switching the lamp off.

She felt her body begin to relax as the darkness pulled her under and dreams filled her mind.

The field in front of her was blanketed in the purest snow and lit ethereal by the full moon above. Her feet bore no shoes yet she could not feel the cold, it was her dream after all. The distinct sound of a melody flowed around her, a violin’s beautiful yet melancholy cry and the keys of a gentle piano following in its wake enticing her into a dance.

Her movements were slow to start, gradually evolving into a sure yet slow routine to match the song all around her. Moon beams danced off her fiery hair as the tender breeze blew snowflakes to kiss the flowing tresses, her simple pale pink dress touching just to the middle of her knees over and over again as she moved.

The footprints she made filled in almost as quickly as they were created as gleaming crystals replaced them in the wake of the moon. Every night she wondered why it was always snow, why did her mind immediately take her here? The mind could imagine many splendored images, fireflies over a lush meadow where Puck lay hidden and uttering at the foolishness of mortals; Rapunzel’s sunlit tower surrounded by stained glass and old books.

Yet deep in her soul, she knew why here; why snow.

The last and only memory she had of her time in Russia was a happy one, something she kept close to her heart and always would. She and Vadim had made snow angels as both of her parents stood within a few feet of their children.

Both of her parents…

Not only was this the last and only memory she had of Russia, but also that of her father. Ivan Fyodorov was a name that had not been uttered in what felt like decades yet he haunted her just as much as the thought of Candyman did. His salt and pepper beard riddled with snowflakes and his body wrapped in a dark brown fur, arm laced with Elena’s much more delicate one.

She remembered how his whiskey brown eyes never strayed from his two children and his mouth in what appeared to be a permanent straight line. Her younger self had caught his gaze and smiled so wide that a flicker of something akin to warmth passed through his eyes before her memory went blank.

Maybe that was it. The snow held that memory, froze it in an eternal loop for her only.

Her body went into a few quick pirouettes before halting with one hand stretched before her and the other gently grasped in a warm hand from behind. Hear senses heightened and raised at the hackles, never before had anyone else ever joined her dream; not this one.

Red hair flew as she whipped her head around, her lips parting in an attempt to take in more air that her lungs couldn’t seem to find.

There he stood in all his broad glory just the same as she had seen him at Annie’s. His hand once again grasping hers gently as she stood in her final pose, wide blue eyes intertwining with intense brown that seemed to keep her in place.

“It’s you…” Her voice was but a mere whisper, “How?” His lips parted ever so slightly as his fingers tightened around her hand gently.

“This place that you’ve created does not exist on a physical plane” His voice only seemed to have gotten deeper since last she saw him, “Therefore, I am able to come to you without a proper calling.” His arm began to tug softly as if he was keeping hold of a frightened doe, her own body slowly twisting fully towards him and willingly following his pull.

Once their chests were within inches, the hand holding hers raised slightly as the other came to rest at the small of her back in a waltz position. She had expected to feel the sting of cold metal at her spine, but was instead surprised at the warmth of a large palm. He smirked as if reading her mind.

“In dreams, we can be whomever we so choose” The music still played on a never ending loop around them as he began to sway with her gingerly, “We can perform tasks that one only yearns for in the mortal world.” His voice almost seemed to mesh with the music perfectly, as if the song existed only to be in sync with him.

He spun her delicately, her hair caressing his coat in a stark contrast of flame dancing in the night sky. They moved effortlessly around and with each other in a way that frightened her. He was attuned to her movements and she to his more so than any dance partner she’d ever encountered. Yes this was a dream and things were obviously different in this reality, but she had a feeling that his grace and agility was something that carried over into the real world just as hers did.

His hand remained a constant reassurance at the small of her back through every dip and twirl while the other engulfed her fingers entirely. They were larger than any she could remember yet long and elegant in the fingers with no calluses to speak of, an artist's hand through and through.

“In the world of the living this hand remains a grizzled reminder of my death, a cruel tease that numbs touch. But here?” He dropped the hand holding hers and slid the other around her waist so that it squeezed her securely into a one armed lift, their bodies chest to chest with her one arm wound around his neck as he spun her a mere two times; stopping gradually to slide her back down to their starting position, “I can feel you with both as if I still lived.” His voice gentled to a whisper and tempting her body into the desire for another dance.

Her breath was labored in a way it shouldn’t have been, years of physical fitness and training allowing her a high stamina and control of oxygen. He had an unnatural effect over her and perhaps that was the dream blending with his own supernatural aura, she couldn’t be sure, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

“The flowers” She suddenly remembered, her hand sliding down from his shoulder, “Why the flowers? Why me?” His hand left her waist and caught hers as it lay just above his heart, keeping it pressed there.

“You bestowed unto me the same, did you not? More than that, you’ve done something no one has managed to do in a very long time” His other hand once again dropped her hand in favor of cupping her cheek, his hand so big and fingers so long that he almost cradled her entire head, “You’ve intrigued me- enraptured my attention.” He dipped his face closer to hers as her eyes fluttered at his proximity.

“You, Anastasia, are an enigma that I long to discover. A lone woman who leaves the first shred of kindness I’ve felt in centuries as an offering and calls me by my name” Her eyes fluttered back open, “My true name.” His own eyes drifted down to her lips and lingered there as she finally felt able to conjure words to her tongue.

“Wh- what do you want with A- Annie?” Vadim would laugh at how pathetic she sounded right now.

“Quite the question, one for another time. For now?” He leaned in as if to kiss her, thumb tracing her bottom lip, “I think it best if you...wake up.” She felt the music around her stop as the dream melted away into a mixture of snow and honey, the bright morning of light greeting her in a warm caress.

She opened her eyes at the ever persistent sun beams, a gasp leaving her throat as she felt around; sighing in relief when she touched the blankets of her bedding. A dream, a very realistic dream, but a dream nonetheless. Truly it had felt as if she never fell asleep at all. The feel of his hands, the brush of snowflakes on her face, his breath on her cheek; it truly was the most realistic dream she’d ever had.

He’d been so brutal in his pursuit of Paul that she almost believed he had some sort of alter ego. Dream be damned, to be so savagely harsh yet delicately soft was a conundrum. Maybe something he had said would resonate with Annie, she’d need to tell her right away. She sighed and stretched her limbs, shaking the sleep from her bones and letting her eyes drift over to the nightstand where her red blooms now held new company.

There in plain view was a sprig of what looked like sweetpea.

She sat up and snatched the white flower as she threw the covers off; padding over to her book case in concentration. Her fingers skimmed the well used spines until they settled on a manual of botany and began to flip through the pages until she found the letter ‘S’.

Saffron

Sage

Snowdrop

Ah! There it was, sweetpea. Derived from the Geek word “lathyros” of which translates to ‘pulse’. In terms of its own language, the sweetpea can mean delicate pleasure, blissful pleasure, a declaration of thanks for a lovely time and adieu.

Oh.

She let the book slip to the floor as she brought the flower towards her face. That dream was, in a way she didn’t understand, seemingly- well, real. He had come to her without the call, but how was that possible? Was it true how he described it? The thought of dreams and the unconscious plane having different rules than that of reality didn’t seem that crazy; especially with how much she’d been thinking of him subconsciously. Now that she knew this it was imperative that she talked to Annie about it.

Well, maybe she would keep the part about dancing with him private for now.

____________________________

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to run that by me again.” An incredulous Annie crossed her arms at what she’d just been told.

Her reaction to Anya’s dream would have been humorous if it wasn’t for the fact that the blonde had summoned the very same hooked specter through a mirror and encountered him in her home.

“You heard me, he somehow found a way to communicate with me and...that just happens to be through my dreams” She rubbed her temples at Annie’s furrowing brow, “Look, I know it sounds weird-”

“That’s an understatement-”

“-but it’s real. He may not be able to come to me like he has you, but he sure as other ways. For what purpose...that’s what I’ll need to figure out.”

“Did he say anything of interest last night?” The question was innocent enough, but it also brought a light dusting of red to her cheeks at the thought of their dance.

She hadn’t been able to resist him, as outrageous as that sounded. This man- this ghost had nearly killed her friend the other night and was now stalking the other for reasons she couldn’t understand. Even with all of that in mind, she had not been able to fight him.

There was something so alluring and calming about the man even with the bloody hook embedded into his wrist; he had an aura that could pull you in and never let go.

She’d need to work on resisting that if she ever wanted to get straight answers.

“Not really, just a bunch of cryptic bullshit.” She didn’t like lying to Annie, but now wasn’t the time to tell her she waltzed with her husband’s almost killer.

“Dammit, I was hoping you’d have good news to balance out mine” Anya quirked her head, “It’s Matthew, some of the kids came by mom’s this morning. He’s gone missing.” Annie began to pace, anxiety practically dripping from her pores.

“Missing? What would-”

“I said his name in front of Matthew. I said Candyman five times in the mirror just to calm him down, show him there was nothing that could happen and-” She sighed deeply, “-and now he’s missing, that can’t be a coincidence.” Anya bit her lip thoughtfully.

“What about his father? He’s a Pastor just up the road, right? He may not know where Matthew is, but maybe he has some insight.” As long as they could get him to speak to them at all.

“That might work” Annie retrieved her keys from the counter, “Let me just make a quick trip to check on Paul and we can head over there.” She motioned Anya to follow, the red head already making strides to follow before something out of the corner of her eye stopped her.

There in the reflection of one of Annie’s windows was the silhouette of a very familiar man, hook raised in greeting. She turned to look where the reflection would be coming from with a gasp...only to see nothing.

“Anya? Yah comin’?” Annie called out.

“Yeah! Sorry-” She turned back to the window to see the reflection gone with only a small bee buzzing around in place from outside, “-I forgot my bag, coming!”

The little bee buzzed around after the red head, watching as she entered the car; its small body softly landing on a nearby bush of sweet pea as the car drove off.

#candyman x oc #candyman x reader #candyman #horror #slasher #horror fanfic #slasher fanfic #daniel robitaille #Daniel Robitaille x oc #morticia writes

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cheeseeatingtrashmonster · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet and Sour Secrets

Ao3

Day 4: Spa Day

"Hey, Bee."

Marinette's voice through the phone was off. Chloe didn't know how, but it was off, and she didn't like that. She was Chloe, though, and didn't know how to ask what was wrong, so what she ended up saying was:

"I expected your call hours ago."

Chloe cringed. Not the worst thing she could have said. Definitely not anywhere near what she wanted to say, either.

"I expected to get to call you hours ago." She sighed. "It was just one of those days, you know?"

Chloe glanced at the papers strewn around her. Her father refused to come out of his room, too depressed and hurt from a fight with her mother to do his job as mayor or hotel owner. She'd been trying to do both, along with her homework, for most of the week.

"Yeah, I do."

Marinette hummed in sympathy. "Is your dad still not up to working?"

Chloe flicked a request for emergency increased funds for street cleaning across the desk and watched it slide off the edge to the floor. "Apparently not. But that's boring. What happened to your day? I barely saw you at school today. Didn't you have some sort of babysitting thing this afternoon?"

Marinette whimpered and a repetitive, dull thudding sound came through the phone that Chloe recognized as Marinette lightly bonking her forehead into her desk. "He tore a design."

"What?" Chloe screeched. "Some snot-nosed brat laid his hands on your gorgeous work of art?"

"He's not... that bad..." She did not sound convincing.

Chloe tapped her pen against the desk, narrowing her eyes at nothing. "Which one?"

"Um... the... the dress. The red and pink one."

She gasped. This was the piece that Chloe had been pestering Marinette to make for herself for an upcoming gala they were both invited to attend. "How bad was the damage?"

"Um..." She took a breath and said in a rush, "It's kind of most definitely ruined but I think I can save some of the panels from the skirt so it's not like I'd be starting completely from scratch?"

"Marinette!"

"His mother paid me double and said she wouldn't ask me to watch him again."

Chloe sighed. "Does paying you double at least cover the cost of the fabric?"

"Mmmmaybe?"

"Honey, that's really not-"

A screeching crash interrupted them.

"Akuma," they said at the same time.

"I'll see you in a minute," Chloe said.

"Ladybug!" Queen Bee gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. "What- what happened to you? We were just talking, and you didn't say anything about-"

"Bee, we really don't have time for this," Ladybug said, closing her eyes and suppressing a sigh. "But I know you, you won't let up. I got caught in the rain at the park while babysitting. That's why I had to take the kid up into my room. I haven't had time to fix my hair since."

Ladybug's hair was messy and frizzy, bits sticking up everywhere, and her pigtails were standing stiffly at odd angles from her head. Usually, no matter what the team members looked like before transforming, if they were able to put it out of mind, it didn't become part of their appearance when transformed. Marinette must truly be frazzled for her disheveled hair to be visible after her transformation.

"Come over after this," Queen Bee said, whipping her spinning top at the akuma. “I have this great new deep conditioning treatment-”

“Good evening, ladies!” Chat shouted as he yeeted himself directly at their opponent.

“I haven’t done any homework yet, I have an essay for history due tomorrow.” Ladybug took a running start and wrapped her yo-yo around one of the lower beams of the Tower and launched herself feet-first into the akuma’s side.

“We could do the treatment another day,” Queen Bee said before charging up Venom.

“That sounds great. I really need a nice, relaxing self-pampering day,” Ladybug said, hooking the akuma’s arm with her yo-yo and yanking him off balance.

“I found a great new eye cream you two have to try,” Chat said, using his baton to knock Queen Bee out of the way of the akuma’s flailing tail.

“One of these days, whenever we reveal,” Ladybug said, “you’re coming over for self-pampering day, too.”

Queen Bee finally got an opening and stabbed her Venom into the akuma, freezing him just before his claws would have crushed her into the ground.

With the akuma purified and Chat escorting the victim home, Ladybug leaned against Queen Bee. She didn't comment on how much of Ladybug's weight she was supporting, but it worried her to see her girlfriend so out of sorts.

"This has been building up for a while, hasn't it?" she asked, wrapping an arm around Ladybug's waist and ignoring the beeps from their miraculouses.

"My current state of frazzlement?" Ladybug pulled on a pigtail for emphasis.

"Ugh. Ridiculous. That's not a word." She ran her gloved fingers over the flyaway hairs on Ladybug's head. "Being Ladybug is a big job."

Being Marinette is a big job, too, she thought. She hoped Ladybug could see the thought in her eyes.

"I wouldn't trade it for the world, though." She kissed Queen Bee's cheek and unclipped her yo-yo from her waist. "Have a good night, Queenie. And keep thinking up things for our home spa day!"

They both headed home, but Queen Bee felt her heart get heavier with every inch she added to the physical distance between them. There had to be a way to make Marinette feel better and get a break for herself.

Chloe hadn't even fully detransformed before the idea hit her.

"Jean Jean! Grab paper and a pen, write down everything I say, and follow me!"

Marinette had barely stepped out the door the next morning when she was grabbed and thrown in a car parked around the corner from the bakery.

“Chloe, what the hell are you-”

"Give me your phone." She held out her hand, ignoring the way Marinette was struggling to right herself from where she had been dumped half on half off the back seat of the car.

"Chloe, whatever this is, can we talk about it on the way into school, please?"

Chloe reached into Marinette's purse, patted Tikki on the head, and took her phone. She unlocked it with the code she had watched Marinette put in so many times and started scrolling through her contacts.

"We aren't going to school." Chloe held Marinette's phone to her ear. "Hello, Mrs. Cheng? I'm Marinette's mystery girlfriend. I'm taking her out of school for today so she can rest and recover from her life for a bit."

There was a pause. Marinette strained to listen to her mom's response, too stunned to take the phone away from her clearly bonkers girlfriend.

"I will give you a number to reach us in case of emergency, but I'm turning her phone off." Another pause. "A spa. I'm paying." A pause. "Good to hear. Thank you, Mrs. Cheng."

"Let me talk to her!" Marinette squeaked.

Miraculously, Chloe handed over the phone.

"Mom?"

"Go rest, honey. We're talking about... all of this when you get home, but I saw how miserable you were last night. I'll call the school and tell them you're sick."

Marinette didn't realize she had started crying until Chloe's fingertips brushed her face. "Thanks, Mom."

"We expect to meet her. Soon."

Marinette looked over at Chloe and thought about how that get together was going to go. She broke into giggles and couldn't stop. Chloe had to take the phone and say goodbye for her.

"Take a nap once we get on the plane," Chloe said, pulling her close. "This is not the kind of place where uncontrolled laughter would be a good idea."

"A nap sounds fantastic," Marinette said, letting herself sag into Chloe. "And you're taking me to a spa? What about all the mayor and hotel stuff?"

"Jean Stuart and I came up with a plan last night. Oh, I got the student council meeting after school postponed, so you don't need to worry about that, and I got extensions on all your schoolwork." She was staring out the car window, straight-faced. Marinette booped her nose just to watch it scrunch and her eyes cross to see the offending finger.

"You did all that just because I had a bad day?"

Chloe softened. Her eyes, her shoulders, the smile she gave to Marinette alone. "I did it because I needed to have a way to help."

Marinette gently pulled Chloe into a kiss by the back of her neck. "You don't have to whisk me off and solve all my problems to help. You listen to me. You help with akumas. You make me happy. You make me happy. Not who you can influence for me, or what you can buy me."

Chloe kissed her again. "Thank you," she whispered. She left her eyes closed and touched her forehead to Marinette's. "Thank you."

They sat there, eyes closed and wrapped in each other's arms while the car's motion soothed them.

Until Marinette pulled away and sat bolt upright.

"Did you say we're getting on a plane to get to this spa? Where is it? Are we leaving the country?"

"Shhh," Chloe said, pulling her back into their previous cuddly position. "Not important."

"Chloe!"

"Also, a shipment of fabric will be delivered to the bakery today. You'll be able to make ten dresses to replace the one that brat destroyed."

"Chloe!"

Chloe kissed her nose. "Oh, just let me do this, Honey."

Marinette buried her face in Chloe's shoulder and breathed in her perfume.

"I love you too, Bee."

#Chlonette Week #chlonette #chloinette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #chloe bourgeois #sweet and sour secrets #My writing #events #oh no i tricked myself into adding Plot and Conflict

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survivingsusac · 4 years ago

Photo

So those of y’all who follow me on Instagram or Facebook know that Dr. Walks His Cat hooked me up with a physical therapist. And that I was JUICED about it. For those of you who aren’t at that stalker level, the picture attached to this post is what I shared.

The referral is to a person who specializes in treating people with spasticity. Of the legs (that’s me), the arms, torso, anything.

Spastic Gait

Now of all the symptoms (Sx) that Susac has given me, the spastic gait is the one I can’t really DO anything about. It annoys me the most.

Sx BRAO: my left eye, which is fine, compensates for the BRAO in my right eye. That’s me doing something.

Sx Memory deficit: the short-term memory retention issues I had at the beginning of my fight with SS were detrimental but have pretty much resolved. In part because JESUS, in part because I put my brain in check with exercises, and in part because I have learned methods which I use to help really crystalize the important knowledge to make it really stick.

Sx Spastic Gait: recall from my last Botox Update post the science about my brain being the problem causing the spastic gait. Now no matter how much I learn about the brain, no matter how many MRI tours of my brain Dr. Walks His Cat takes me on (I have SEEN my cochleae!!! They’re adorable structures) I cannot actually DO anything to change what has happened in my brain.

This. Drives. Me. Bonkers.

I may or may not have issues rooted in control, haha!

But earlier this month Dr. Walk His Cat told me about Neurological Rehab Center and their specialization with spasticity. I literally said, “Sign me up!”

This morning I go to the Center.

The place is small. There is one big entry room where the check in lady, Margaret, sits and the main exercise and stretching takes place. And one smaller work room to the rear. And one restroom.

There’s also a bonus, a donut counter in the center by the quad lift machine. And it stocked every day. I know this because I asked this very critical question.

But I’m a new patient in what I have concluded is a boy’s club type of establishment. Which, upon further consideration, makes sense. The patients are dealing with various issues that have resulted in their spasticity, like strokes and MS. That gives us a demographic that I have very little experience with—patients who are male, 50 to 70 years old. When I walked in, Jerzy introduces himself and every one of the guys in the room. After I complete my intake paperwork, he introduces me like this, “This is our new patient, Aurora.”

Insert a chorus of hi’s and welcome’s.

One guy, Jim, straight up asked me if I sure I was in the right place.

I heard all kinds of fun jokes, told some myself, and, I think, may have made some cool connections that I’ll get to build on over the next 6 months or so. The most important one being JERZY.

First

Jerzy takes me to that smaller work room in the rear. As he stretches my legs A LOT (I’m so glad I shaved them Monday night) I ask him how he got into providing this type of therapy. He’s all, patients needed it and there wasn’t anything. So I invented it.

SO I INVENTED IT.

Like it’s no big thing.

He’s like the Elon Musk of physical therapy. I saw a empty niche so I filled it.

Second

Jerzy moves me to the big entry room. Here I did the most unexpected stretching I have ever experienced. I sat on a stationary chair, Jerzy sat on a rolling chair in front of me, facing me. He grabbed my hands in his and rolled backward, telling me to sink down as far as I could so my back was flat. THEN he had his aide, Wes, come push on my back to make me go further into the stretch. I saw Jerzy and Mike do this same stretch with Jeff and Jack next to me. Essentially it ends up looking like a strange seated dance where aide Mike ends up laying his upper torso on the stretcher’s back in the stationary chair and Jerzy pulls the stretcher forward and down to the proverbial dance floor.

I bought myself a ring to wear over my Joshua tattoo on my wedding ring finger and Jerzy’s hand squeezing began to hurt so I took it off and dropped it in my purse. This tiny detail comes back later, I promise. Jeff asks me if I’m married. I explain that I was, but that he was a useless ass who tried to kill me so I divorced him. Which starts a conversation about useless partners and how much work women are. Yes, I was a constructive part of this conversation.

After the dance stretch Jerzy moved me to back stretching equipment where I did a stretch both forward and backward. I lost count of the reps that he told me to do, though. So I just kept it pushing! Eventually Jeff pipes up and asks me how many I’ve done. I announce, honestly, I’ve lost count! So Mike comes over and releases me from the safety straps and exercise bars.

After I get up, Jeff reminds me, “Don’t forget to put your ring back on.”

Of course these leads another patient who has just walked in, Kit, to ask me, “Is that your wedding ring?”

Me, “No, I bought this for myself to hide what’s beneath it. I sold my wedding ring.”

Jim’s all, “He tried to kill her.”

Yeah, I think I’m part of the club now ^_^

Third and a DONUT

Jerzy says I’m free to go but when I hesitate, he says that I can use the quad lift machine and gives me reps instructions. Which I pay more attention to counting this time! I do the quad lifts and almost the entire time I’m drooling over the giant box of donuts like two feet from my arm. So OF COURSE I grab one before I get my purse and sweater. As I finish my donut I tell Jerzy these perpetually stocked donuts are gonna kill me! He claims to have a 6 foot fly swatter he uses to swat people’s hands when they eat too many. But he never defined too many.

Dun dun DUUUUUNNNN.

I’m excited to go back next Wednesday, when Jerzy says he’ll video tape my gait so we can compare the tape to my gait in 6 months. So we can SEE the progress.

Which is an idea that I am all about!

Surviving Susac,

Aurora

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stanskzseungmin · 5 years ago

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Operation Miroh | Stray Kids Mafia! AU ~ Chapter 8

Sorry this one took a while. I was trying a different more disjointed writing style to try and create the imagery for this chapter. Took a while because I trashed and redid this chapter like 4 times lmao. Hope you enjoy it <3

~Masterlist~

Chapters: 0.1, 0.2, 0.3, 0.4, 0.5, 0.6, 0.7, 0.8, 0.9

1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7

The atmosphere was tense.

The heavy stench of death lingered.

There were so little activity yet it felt as if the dead were back with a vengeance.

Heavy panting can be heard as a pair of hands grab at the screen before them.

The pristine beach is now a mass grave.

The beautiful clean sand that almost seemed to glow and glisten breathtakingly under the hot sun on a clear yet cloudy day.

Somewhere else in the meantime.

It was dark and silent. There were barely any lights. The only lights presents were blinking and on the verge of dying.

The air that once permeated with mutual content and comfort that a family shared, was now tense as a chill traveled up all of the building’s inhabitants' spines. There was no loud yelling. No laughter. No pitter pattering of feet. Just a dark and silent home where ten lived in harmony.

But of the ten, two were not present: one on the verge of death.

The sea sparkled a brilliant blue hue, The dark color perfectly complemented the clear blue sky.

The silence was distrubed by a loud metal clattering. There were loud exhales and gasps of disbelief. The medic/engineer collided with the metal cart of supplies behind him as his hands frantically grabbed at the cool metal to maintain balance. His eyes were blown out in shock as panic and fear wracked through his system as it got harder and harder to breathe.

The clean beachside front is now polluted and littered with rubble and residue, The tan grains of sand now dyed and stained a brilliant red. The pristine clean and clear water is now filled with lifeless corpses, the bodies floating and swaying with the waves as their faces remained frozen in a silent scream and dead eyes.

An explosion can be heard in the distance. A demolitionist was in full sprint towards the so called “Paradise.” As he ran, he was pursued, but the pursuers were quickly disposed of by the demolitionist dropping homemade pocket C4 like breadcrumbs.

The medic/engineers stared at the third screen down on the left column in horror. The once vibrant green screen signifying excellent health now glowed a menacing red. A sharp contrast to the eight greens surrounding and a singular almost as worrisome orange.

The red screen.

리노

The heartbeat monitor displayed with a brilliant flashing red orange light has a singular word displaying on the lower left corner of the screen.

DANGER

With haste, the medic/engineer barrelled out the room and down the hallway. The name of his leader erupted from his throat repeatedly as the inhabitants of the rooms past sprung out of the rooms appearing in the doorways ready, alert and worried.

The demolitionist stood before two unconscious bodies. A pool of blood surrounded the pair as his shoes stepped into the darkening pool staining the dirt beneath him.

He delicately pried the smaller body off the toxin specialist and very carefully slung both bodies over either shoulders.

“Seungmin! Put me down!” You exclaimed lightly hitting his back lightly with your balled fists.

The chemistry student merely smirked at your immature antics.

The two of you weren’t friends per se, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call the both of you enemies. You were a bit of a goody two shoes and always go out of your way to report all suspicious activity on the campus. You had caught Seungmin picking on Jisung again and went up to the chemist to write him up. As per usual, Seungmin wasn’t having it. He never would.

And here you are now, pathetically slung over his shoulder as he carried you away. You knew where he was taking you. He took you there every time.

Seungmin pulled open the door of one of the more deserted janitor’s closet. It was so out of the way that it’s hardly any janitor’s first choice and it most definitely have a lack of nearby students. Hardly any students passed by here due to the shady and creepy atmosphere.

Even though the walled in city was safe, the paranoia of the dangers outside still lingered. The deserted hallways felt as if it had a distorted reality. There was no present danger but any who walked by without the proper constitution would get so wracked by paranoia where the imagined dangers seemed real.

In the dark dusty room with a singular hanging bulb, Seungmin would toss you onto the ground. Your bottom met the floor ungracefully as Seungmin closed the door behind him quite harshly. The impact sent vibrations through the walls that would unsettle the dust as vision would slightly get hindered by the particles. You let out a small whine from the stinging pain radiating from the impact. Before you can protest or chide him, Seungmin would kneel before you and pull you into a bone crushing embrace and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

Your arms protest, grabbing and pushing at him and sometimes digging your nails into his shoulders in a dire attempt to make him let you go. Seungmin would let out a small puppy whine and pouted. You felt your defenses weaken at the sound and wanted nothing more but to let him in. Before you even had a chance to raise your arms to return the embrace, Seungmin would pull away with a shit-eating smirk as he brought his index finger to his lips ordering your silence.

Seungmin was already out and gone with the door shut as he left before you could properly register what just happened, your mind still puddy from your lowered defenses.

A soft click echoed through the silence.

Every time.

Seungmin got you every time.

And everytime you still lowered your defenses to let him in.

Only for him to leave you alone like a deer in headlights.

You swore Seungmin only existed to make your life a living hell. You always thought it was a waste of talent for a practically math genius Seungmin to pick on people. You knew blackmail when you see it.

Doesn’t mean you had immunity towards it. Not towards Seungmin at least.

You noticed how Seungmin and two others hanging around one of the campus’ empty buildings. You recognized the two being top students in their respective subjects.

They were definitely doing shady stuff.

Today however, looks as if it was only Seungmin that’s present. You never saw the other two from your not so discreet hiding spot under the shade of a tree with your nose pressed into a book.

You rushed to follow Seungmin into the building once you see him disappear behind the closing door.

You didn’t take that long to enter after the boy. You made it in before the door closed completely, but it seemed as if Seungmin vanished into midair.

Sighing to yourself, you began walking down the dimly lit hallway and peeked into every passing door’s window pane. You noticed how the hallways cameras were all facing down, the led next to the lens were off.

Why were the cameras off?

You also noticed the smoke detectors were also disabled.

Your thoughts were cut off when you heard a loud explosion ripped through the silence. Your ears rang lightly as it seemed as if the world was moving.

“Seungmin?” You breathed out. Panic bubbled deep within your chest. “Seungmin? SEUNGMIN!”

“Wow, you can’t leave me alone, huh?”

You whipped around to see Seungmin himself in the flesh perfectly fine and uninjured just his attire and visage covered in dark soot. You let out a loud sigh of relief as you ran up to him wrapping your arms around his frame in a bone crushing embrace.

“Alright, dummy,” Seungmin chuckled patting your back lightly. “Did you really have that little faith in me that you genuinely thought I was hurt?”

Seungmin rubbed your back in circles as his other hand rested gently on your waist. You mumbled softly into his shoulders. “Absolutely not. Not at all. You’re totally bonkers, insane. You’re going to scale this building and I’m going to have to write you up. Or worse, writing an autopsy report.”

“Thank you,” Seungmin whispered into your ear resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I wasn’t serious.”

“I was.”

You pulled back slightly in confusion to see a genuine smile on his face with his eyes show a loving and touched emotion. You felt your lips twitch upwards upon sight of him looking so vulnera-

“Now stop stalking me, dummy creeper.”

You would most definitely hear a pin drop from the silence that followed.

You fell for it again.

“Wow [by 3RACHA], you actually came,” you perked up from the bench you were sitting on.

“Of course I did, dummy,” Seungmin smiled, putting his hands into his black hoodie pocket.

“No fucking with Felix?” you jested with a smirk playing on your lips.

“Do you not realize who I am?” Seungmin scoffed. “Let’s just say Felix won’t be leaving detention without being griefed.”

“You customized an exit denial device didn’t you?”

“Ooooh yea,” Seungmin chuckled.

“It’s not an ice bucket above the door is it?”

“Lame.”

“Oh dear,” you hand went up to your cheek in worry for the freckled Australian.

“So how am I going to get up there?” Seungmin pointed to the roof, his eyes never leaving yours wearing a face of disbelief.

“Uhh… parkour?”

Seungmin quirked an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I didn’t think that far ahead...” you looked off to the side rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

“You give me a boost and launched me up there?”

“Bad idea.”

“I stand on your shoulder and you stand up?” Seungmin suggested slinging his arm around your shoulders while pointing upwards with his index finger.

“Even worse,” you shrugged off his arm.

“So what do you suggest?”

“Just get on my back, I’ll carry you up.”

“Your noodle arms can carry me?”

. . .

“I hate this place,” Seungmin mumbled. His arms were loosely wrapped around your shoulders with his legs finding purchase hooked onto your waist, his chest flush against your back.

You let out a loud exhale as you gripped on the window sill. You looked back to see Seungmin gazing longingly at the wall. That damned wall.

“What do you want to do?” You whispered as you continued your climb.

“I want to destroy the wall.”

Your hand reached over the edge of the roof one after another as you pulled the both of you up.

“You do know what is out there, right?” you settled down on the cold roof, bringing your knees to your chest,

“Yea,” Seungmin sat next to you pulling you into his lap as you both gaze at the wall. At your vantage point, you can see beyond the tall concrete walls lined with barbed wire at the top.

“The walls protect us from dangers outside. So many mafias and gangs. So much corruption. That doesn't include all the murders and kidnappings.”

“But what if the true dangers aren’t what is out there? But in here? Those mafias exist for a reason. What if they’re rebelling against something from inside? The people here are hardly people anymore. They’re sheeple that can be herded by the shepherd called the government.”

“I don’t want to become like them,” you whispered. “What if the schools existed only to turn us all into sheeple, brainwashing us into the same system. Schools only exist to condition people to work 8 hours a day. I don’t want to be like them. I don’t want to lose my humanity.”

“You won’t. I promise,” Seungmin whispered into your hair. “You see past the wall, right?”

“It’s dark and empty.”

“I know. Dark, so we won’t be attracted to the government’s light like moths only to discover it’s a flame and empty, so we could be free without any restrictions.”

“Wait, we?” you whispered, shock evident in your voice and you broke free from his embrace to face him.

“Of course, dummy,” Seungmin smiled genuinely. “I promise.”

Seungmin thought to himself right then and there, ‘I’ll get you out of here, I promise.’

“This better not be one of your stupid blackmails again, Shit-min.”

. . .

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patsdrabbles · 6 years ago

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Quite Delightful

Fandom: The Traveling Wilburys Pairing: George Harrison/Bob Dylan (plus some super minor, crushing Jeff Lynne/Tom Petty) Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1904 Summary: Bob blinked as if he had trouble making him out and let himself stumble forward. And forward. Until he collided with George, breathing down hotly against his neck as he felt George’s hands on his waist, trying to hold him steady. It was now or never. Wherein Bob plays drunk for a greater good (the greater good being Dylarrison). A/N: This is definitely one of my favourite Dylarrison and Wilburys fanfics I’ve written so far. :D I’m glad I decided to run with this silly little idea, it proved to be a rather fun writing experience! ♥ Feedback is, no matter how short, super appreciated and helpful! ♥ Enjoy <3 (AO3)

“Hey, careful!” Tom chuckled as Bob’s eyebrows furrowed, his gaze fixed on the stain his shirt now sported. He let out a heavy sigh of defeat and continued walking toward the corner of the bar where Jeff and Roy were already waiting for them.

Jeff raised an eyebrow at the frankly pretty obvious wet spot in the front of Bob’s shirt and Bob sighed again. “I tripped. That happens to old people, Jeffrey.”

The usual protests arose from the round. Bob wasn’t that old yet! Where would that leave them? They weren’t much younger than him after all. Bob smiled tightly. He didn’t feel as old as he just pretended to, but still. Sometimes he felt like the years were just running past him and he didn’t achieve those very things that mattered the most to him if he was honest.

Tom raised his glass next to him. “To good music and friendship!” Jeff and Roy mirrored him. “To the Wilburys!” Bob held up his glass, too, and took a sip. Jeff started talking about a song idea he and George had been working on and that he suspected George had stayed behind for. The topic changed to studio stories soon after, but Bob’s thoughts were still set on George.

George had stayed behind in the studio, wanting to try out an idea he had had. He had told them he’d join them if he didn’t finish too late, but a glance on the clock near the bar a few minutes ago had told Bob that George most likely wouldn’t make it. He would probably head back to their hotel room instead and have an evening in. Bob wondered what he was doing right now.

“What about you?” The three faces of his friends were looking at him inquisitively.

“Uh.” He hadn’t kept track of what the conversation was about. Tom snorted and Jeff snickered silently. Bob saw a smirk forming on Roy’s mouth before the other man repeated what they had been talking about. They all wondered if George was going to start dating again and if they should attempt to hook him up with someone.

“D’ya know if there’s anyone that’s struck his fancy?” Tom asked him. Bob felt like someone had just punched the air out of him. Sure, he was trying to keep his crush on George hidden, but apparently, he was doing an even better job than he gave himself credit for. Even his closest friends couldn’t tell.

“Nah, man.” He shook his head. “I’m not one to meddle, y’know?” He took another sip of his drink, trying to ignore Tom’s gaze lingering on his before the blond turned back toward Jeff and Roy. He understood Tom’s disbelief- he was one of George’s best friends after all. Sometimes he’d even go as far as claim the best friend title for himself. And yet- he truly didn’t know if George had someone he was interested in. Bob sure hoped he didn’t.

At some point, it turned quarter past eleven and Bob, who had long finished his first drink and not gotten refills like his friends, waved his goodbye. He was tired and, if he was quite honest, he didn’t want to hear any of his friends’ drunken meddling plans anymore. He turned around once more and nodded toward them. They didn’t seem to be watching him, though. Roy was looking down into his almost empty glass pensively, while Tom was whispering something into Jeff’s ear while gesticulating widely. Bob wondered if he noticed the blush that had formed on Jeff’s cheeks, if he noticed it probably wasn’t (only) the alcohol. They should probably meddle out their own affairs before George’s.

He left and walked back the relatively short way to the hotel. He spent those ten minutes in silence, pondering over his friends’ attempt at getting George a date. The thought alone already made him jealous of whomever they might try to match him with. George was too good for anyone they might find. He was too good for Bob, if he was being honest. It was one of the reasons that had kept him from ever making a move on him.

He mulled the situation over and over again and, remembering Tom drunkenly making Jeff blush, somehow came up with what must have been one of his dumbest ideas yet. It was absolutely bonkers, but at least there would be no lasting damage done if it went wrong.

He unlocked their shared hotel room with hands that were half shaking for real and half for the effect. Then he fell into the room, shoulder pressed to the door as it swung open, and closed it carelessly behind himself.

He had messed up his hair in the elevator and opened his shirt’s first couple of buttons. He had checked his shirt’s smell, too: still smelling very alcoholic. His mouth, too, still tasted of alcohol although it had been a while since he had finished his drink back at the bar. Lastly, he had untucked one corner of his shirt from his pants. A glance in the elevator’s mirror had told him enough. He looked convincingly wrecked.

So it came to no surprise that George, previously seated on the hotel room’s couch, jumped up at his sight, letting out a loud, worried “Bob!”

Bob blinked as if he had trouble making him out and let himself stumble forward. And forward. Until he collided with George, breathing down hotly against his neck as he felt George’s hands on his waist, trying to hold him steady. It was now or never.

“Bob, what happ–“ He instantly fell silent as Bob began nibbling on the skin below his chin. He was shivering below Bob and Bob suddenly couldn’t help but hope that this was a sign for something he hadn’t ever dared hope for.

“Bob. Bob! You are- You are dru–!“ Bob pulled back abruptly and looked George in the eyes wildly. He didn’t have to feign the drunkenness in order to do so. George was doing this to him already. He made Bob feel drunker than any alcohol would ever be able to.

George looked at him, face flushed and with big eyes. There was worry in them, so much care, and Bob could only feel love for him. Bob couldn’t help himself any longer. He leaned in and pressed his mouth against George’s. George, who only whimpered for a moment, before caving in and kissing back just as passionately. Bob felt a shaky hand slide under his shirt, running experimentally over his back, and couldn’t help but smile as he kept kissing George. He wanted him back.

He pushed a strand of hair out of George’s face and tucked it behind his ear, breaking the kiss only shortly to gasp for air. George, too, drew in a sharp breath, looking entirely wrecked from their kiss alone. But also worried. Bob pulled him toward him with enough strength that he nearly made them stumble. Then, he walked forward, making George hit the side of the couch. He went to nibble on George’s ear while grinding against him lazily, delighting in George’s silent moans and the hand that had found his bottom and was holding him close.

Until all of a sudden, George stilled below him and Bob pulled back, worried. George looked at him with so much concern that it did nothing but made Bob want to kiss it all away, but he waited. “Bob–“ George said quietly. He reached up and gently caressed Bob’s cheek. Bob pressed back into the touch, but he would never admit to the purr-like sound that left his lips then. “– you’re drunk.” George looked at him sternly, but not angrily. “And I won’t take advantage of that.”

He pushed Bob backwards carefully and made toward the kitchen. “I’ll get you water. You should sleep this out...“ Bob wrapped a hand around his arm lightly, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m not drunk, Georgie.” It was barely audible, but George turned around to face him, expression doubtful. “Look me in the eyes. I’m not drunk. I was just fucking scared, and I realized I had to do something before I’d lose you to someone else.”

George remained silent for a moment, clearly thinking things over. Then his gaze met Bob’s again. “But... there is nobody else? There’s just you.”

Bob swore he could hear his heart beat loudly in his chest right then. “Holy hell, give a man a warning!” He took a step closer, hand sliding from George’s arm to hold his hand instead. He studied George’s open expression for a moment. The worry had almost entirely faded away and there was just love there. So much love. How had he managed to be so painfully oblivious that he hadn’t noticed that George felt the same way about him all along?

He looked at him more closely. The big eyes, the faint blush on his cheeks, the big eyebrows, the laughter lines in the corner of his eyes... He truly loved this man more than anyone else. He reckoned it was time to tell him so.

Bob also took George’s other hand in his and squeezed both lightly, running his thumbs over the warm skin. He looked at their interlocked hands for a moment and smiled to himself. He wanted this, for however long George would allow it.

“I love you, George.” It wasn’t as quiet as George’s confession but he was stating a matter of fact, as well, no doubt whatsoever in his voice. No drunkenness.

Bob watched the emotions displayed so openly on George’s face change – from shock to happiness, to disbelief to confusion, to hope to–

“I love you, too, Bob.” He looked like he wanted to say something more but he just shook his head.

“Sorry for, y’know,” Bob let go of one of George’s hands and gestured toward himself awkwardly. “Playing drunk and all that.”

“It’s alright.” George gave him a little smile and pulled Bob against him. “You gave me a scare there, but at least it got the job done.” He shook his head and his smile widened.

George then cocked his head and his mischievous grin made Bob smile back at him before he had even uttered his next words. “Want to continue this?” He pressed a kiss to Bob’s nose and let his hand wander teasingly over Bob’s back. They were chest to chest and all Bob could think about was how he wanted to get back to kissing George for as long as he could.

“Always.” It slipped out of his mouth before he was able to form a better reply. George’s hand stopped moving for a short moment, before George chuckled and pulled on Bob’s hand, dragging him along behind him toward couch.

“That’s an impressively long time, y’know?”

“Not that long if you love someone.” Bob smiled at him gently when George sat down on the couch and pulled Bob down to sit next to him.

“I reckon that’s right.” He looked into Bob’s eyes silently and Bob lost himself in them for a moment.

“Getting to spend that time with you sounds... quite delightful.”

He smiled at Bob, and Bob knew that the best part of his life, no matter how old he was, still lay ahead of him. He smiled widely when George kissed him.

#bob dylan #george harrison #dylarrison #the traveling wilburys #the traveling wilbuys fanfiction #ttw ff #ff #fanfiction #my posts #my fanfics #pat writes #tom petty #jeff lynne #roy orbison #Quite Delightful #4.2.2019 #2019

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cookiefonster666 · 6 years ago

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Thoughts on the Homestuck Epilogues (Tumblr Edition)

I predicted the future!

Might as well adapt this Blogspot post I made about a week ago into Tumblr form, why not. With a few minor changes. I don’t like using Tumblr but I figure it’s a good additional platform to share my surprisingly positive views on the Homestuck Epilogues.

The epilogues have a lot of controversial content, most of which I avoid talking about here.

BRIEF SUMMARY

4/20, read through Meat: epilogues pretty good

4/20, started Candy: what the fuck

4/21, stopped: aaaaaaaaughhhhh bluh i hate everything

4/24-ish, continued Candy: epilogues alright i guess also i am sad now

4/27-ish, finished: I LOVE HOMESTUCK

BRIEF-ISH SUMMARY

Meat was a wild ride that started as cool plot stuff and things that make you go "OH FUCK", continued as basically chapters 7-9 of Detective Pony (which I naturally enjoyed a lot), and ended as a mess of sheer chaos and destruction. My thought process ended as, "oh duh, this is the bad ending, candy must be the good ending". I was in for quite the nasty surprise.

I quit reading Candy just a few pages in. It didn't take long for it to suddenly become the weirdest fanfiction ever. Frustrated, I started skipping and searching through later parts and got rather salty when it turned out both sides were the "bad ending". I saw firsthand what vfromhomestuck meant by "clear your whole week": this is not something most people can just read in one sitting. Then I recovered a few days and read Candy in earnest, in a somewhat anachronous order and with many parts read multiple times. Slowly, I started to hope that the epilogues would be followed up with a true happy ending for real this time. I may or may not have written a snippet of some form of fanfiction paving the way for a happy ending.

Once I finally accomplished the equivalent of reading Candy as intended, I got hit HARD with feels. I accepted that the epilogues have many issues but as a whole (not just the sum of parts) are an absolute masterwork, sometimes because of those issues. It didn't take me long to realize the brilliant duality either. Meat is a side-splitting metafictional farce that (for me at least) is impossible to treat as anything resembling a story of people doing things. Candy is a tale of FEELS, and I don't use the word FEELS lightly. FEELS means I almost cried, like I did when I watched the Futurama episode Luck of the Fryrish.

DETECTIVE PONY AND METAFICTION

Before I move on and talk about the CHARACTERS, I'm going to discuss the meat epilogue's resemblance to sonnetstuck's Detective Pony. I love everything about Detective Pony, more than almost anything else in existence. My abnormal love for that godlike fanwork probably skewed my perception of Meat a bit. Starting from page 17, Dirk takes over the narration then fights over it with god tier Calliope; both do rather questionable deeds and Dirk was hit hard by fans as a result. Seeing other fans react towards that character with such hostility gave me a very distinct feeling of "what, am I missing something?" Dirk's takeover felt like a lengthy work of comedy to me; a story that never strips away from the fact that it's fiction, in a vein near identical to that of Detective Pony. I like to think I am in the right for perceiving that arc this way, because I think everyone who has read Homestuck should read Detective Pony. One of the epilogue authors read Detective Pony after writing the epilogues and was struck by it; I take this accidental mirroring of (post-)canon as proof that sonnetstuck understands Hussie's ways through and through. I like to think I have a solid understanding of Hussie's ways by now, but this guy is on a whole new level.

That said, the meat epilogue gets a bit carried away with metafiction to the point of making me think, "god when will things go back to normal". Towards the end of Detective Pony, Dirk goes through an existential crisis followed by a powerful revelation, and then resolves to do whatever it takes to erase his abominable creation. But the meat epilogue ends with (both figurative and literal) crashing and burning; no ultimate redemption for our poor Strider. Homestuck doesn't usually have much of a problem with getting carried away with stupid nonsense; maybe a few rare occasions in cases like Hussie's self-insert scenes. But getting carried away is a major criticism I have with cool and new web comic. I love that comic to death, but the parts that take a long time to dwell on the cool and new characters being creepy or weird are a chore to go through. o (the author of CaNWC) seems to have improved in that regard; the cool and new trolls' arc is much more to-the-point with such nonsense.

Meat getting carried away with metafiction is a major cause of my initial burnout shortly after starting Candy. I was sick of this mass dump of metafiction and expected Candy to be a refreshing change of pace. Haha, if only. My fault for reading Meat first. At night I sometimes ponder in envy of the parallel universe me that started with Candy. Actually I don't do that, I just thought it was a funny thing to say. Though I have on more than a few occasions sat in bed fantasizing about how awesome my life probably is in some parallel universe. What point was I making again? Oh whatever, it doesn't matter. I guess I should write a similar overview of Candy's narrative nature. Here goes:

LUCK OF THE FRYRISH AND SADSTUCK

Sad things are sad.

^ There, that's my candy overview. How hard was that?

With the two summaries out of the way, I figure the best way to dump out my residual thoughts on the epilogues is going character by character. I won't do every character, mostly just the ones who played large roles and were already characters in Homestuck proper. I'm sorting these characters in tiers of how well I think the epilogues handle them, mostly from worst to best.

N-TIER

N is not the lowest tier; it's the tier that cannot be ranked. N stands for two things here: "Not Applicable" and "Narrators". Naturally enough, two characters fit into that tier.

Dirk Strider: I've already talked about this guy quite a bit. I have a fondness for Dirk's character and I think his dialogue and narration in meat do a good job portraying some ascended, ultimate version of his character without straying from his voice, the tone that makes him Dirk. That said, I'm a bit peeved that "normal Dirk", the one iteration of Dirk Strider that isn't total bonkers and just wants his friends to be happy, doesn't exist in this story. In Candy, Rose suddenly loses the memories of her alternate selves, but for some reason Dirk keeps those memories and soon after commits suicide; he's left out of the picture until Candy's postscript, which I guess is a reasonable balance considering his indulgence throughout Meat. But why is only one of the succulently verbose Strilondes let off the hook? Some readers imagine Dave as the comic's protagonist and Dirk as the antagonist; I've toyed with that idea myself and can see it symbolized, but it just feels so wrong to me. Maybe the authors did too good a job writing Dirk for me to be complacent with such a shift in role. His conversations with Rose were just as delightful as I had hoped and they aren't weighed down too much in light of his shift in role, at least not for me.

Alt Calliope: The narrative rival to Dirk, as I mentioned previously. I'm not totally sure what to say about her, other than that one could see her as a counterpart to let's say Anna Harley; a necessary piece in the Detective Pony analogy. Alt Calliope's narrative arguments with Dirk were hilarious and that's all there is to say on the matter.

G-TIER

I'm lucky Gamzee's name starts with a G, because this means I can give him a tier of his own worse than F. As an individual arc that is; he'd get a much higher rating when taken as part of a whole.

Gamzee Makara: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I despised reading every word that came out of this guy's mouth as soon as his """redemption arc""" started. But I can clearly tell that was the point and that the suffering that is reading his words has a much greater purpose. Before you deem me a masochist or the kind that insists everything is "bad on purpose", know that I am neither of those things but really do mean what I say here. Gamzee's role in Candy draws tension between individuality and the whole. Reading this guy's hogwash is suffering in and of itself, but ultimately it serves a role of showing us how fucked up the world of Candy is and helps the reader experience John's existential crisis with him.

F-TIER

As before, these tiers are strictly about character arcs in isolation and not the big picture. This tier is home to none other than the legendary...

Jane Crocker: Boy did I predict the future on that one. A bit like Dirk, I would've liked it more if in only one epilogue did sweet innocent little Jane become such a monster. No way in hell am I going to run through the asshole things she does; it's a load of sensitive topics I'm not comfortable discussing in any capacity. Instead, I'll say that if I had to choose only one epilogue where Jane ran through her crazy presidential campaign it would be Candy; as with Gamzee's arc, this campaign serves well as a part of John's existential crisis. What's weird here is that in Candy she originally cancelled all this, but later ended up basically doing it anyway with Dirk gone. I can imagine Jane going back to normal in Meat, maybe? Or in the hypothetical "true ending" I discussed prior.

D-TIER

Better known as "meh" tier. Mostly the characters that don't do much and I wished did more.

Meenah Peixes: Needed more screen time, god damn it. She survives the Furthest Ring apocalypse, nabs the Ring of Life, then makes her way to Candy Earth and joins Karkat in the rebellion. Maybe it makes sense that her and Karkat teaming up in war is relegated to the background, to show how far the shouty guy has come in comparison to everyone else. I'll come back to this point when I talked about Karkat.

Roxy Lalonde: Doesn't do too much in either side, but does go through some touchy topics I'm not sure what to think about; I'm most certainly not ready to talk about those topics now. And regardless, Roxy's role in the epilogues is better discussed when I talk about John and Terezi a few tiers up.

Calliope: Doesn't do all that much either, full circle to being the exposition alien with mysterious morality. I'm actually pretty OK with that. Certainly beats out the slog of endless "ur pretty" conversations. Calliope pretty much fades into the background on both sides, which is sad but fitting.

(About pronouns: I'll keep referring to Roxy and Calliope as "she" unless I find reason to talk about the little those two do in Meat. I just avoided using pronouns in those paragraphs above.)

C-TIER

Better known as "meh" tier, but with a more positive "meh" than before. It's the "meh" that indicates lukewarm satisfaction rather than annoyance at mediocrity.

Jade Harley: Really should be on a lower tier, because she did dick squat other than being horny and painfully oblivious to all the nonsense going on. But I'm a sucker for Jade being "Jade" and was happy to see even a trace of that early in Meat. As before, I'll avoid the controversial topics surrounding Jade in the epilogues, aside from pointing out that this post reads very different now.

Karkat Vantas: This guy's a bit of an odd spot. His leadership role is addressed in the absolute last way I expected. Could've gotten more attention from the story I suppose, but damn if his character arc didn't get the most triumphant return imaginable.

Kanaya Maryam: I touched upon Rose and Kanaya's relationship when I discussed the "buddy system" in my first epilogues post and I still stand by what I said there. Her strong attachment to Rose is integrated well into Meat without seeming like fluff or defining her entire character, because she actually does other things there too. In Candy they remain a stable happy relationship and I guess I'm cool with that.

Aradia Megido: Role is the same as ever and I'm fine with that. Death fangirl who works for predestination and has ambiguous morality. Her arc with alt Calliope ends with a cliffhanger that is easily the biggest reason to hope for a follow-up to the epilogues; if such a follow-up were to happen, I really look forward to hearing more from Aradia.

Sollux Captor: Sollux is by nature the other guy, that's an immutable fact of life. He doesn't do much other than snarking at whoever's nearby and I can't imagine it any other way.

Jake English: If not for a scene near the end of Candy, I'd put Jake at D-tier. Through all of Meat and most of Candy, Jake's role is one of the oddest spots of all and it's pretty hard to pinpoint what the authors were going for, lest I dabble in controversial topics some more. But Jake's scene with John near the end of Candy is uniquely touching and makes the most out of his role as a second John. He moves in with John, bringing his son Tavros with him, and encourages John to reconcile with his former wife and make amends of sorts, ultimately giving a small portion of the cast a pseudo-happy ending. That whole part of Candy made me tear up.

Talking about the really GOOD parts is a perfect point for me to move on to...

B-TIER

Stuff that didn't make it into A-Tier, which I've reserved for what struck me HARD.

Dave Strider: In both epilogues, Dave's behavior generally seems based on how he acted in Act 6 Act 6 Intermission 5, which is actually a LOT better than it sounds and hell if I know why that is. Dave's rants about politics and sexuality now have a charm I can't quite describe. His absurd fixation specifically on the economy matches shockingly well with the nature of Homestuck. The three-way romance between him, Karkat, and Jade goes in very different directions on either side, which I'll discuss a bit later. The epilogues even made Dave x Karkat an actually decent ship, how crazy is that??? The writers deserve a big badge of honor for doing that. Not sure what to say about specific things, but Dave was really well-written in an unexpected way.

Rose Lalonde: Again not sure what to say about anything in specific. Just really enjoyed reading Rose on both sides of the story. Shoutout to the heartwarming moment with John near the end.

A-TIER

Oh boy. Oh boy. Time for the big guns.

Vriska Serket: My mind hurts to process just how good Vriska's appearance in Candy was, after leaving the Furthest Ring and landing on Earth. First she talks with John rather aggravated, then she brutally murders Gamzee, then she sits down and has an honest talk with her ectobiological clone raised by Rose and Kanaya, and in the end gets in touch with Terezi which leads to a cliffhanger. The story somehow created the PERFECT balance of sincere reflections and typical Vriska flavor, which was deeply lacking in A6A6I5 with its horrific polar opposite versions of Vriska. Two Vriskas converse once again late in Candy and this time it's incredibly endearing and almost feels like an apology for the controversial Vriska/Vriska encounter back then. I accept the apology with open arms. Why is everything always so wonderful?

John Egbert: <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3. WHY IS EVERYTHING ALWAYS SO WONDERFUL? John gets a deep meaningful existential crisis arc in both epilogues; both cases I easily latched onto and found a bit of myself in. I absolutely loved seeing him and Terezi interact as a duo of people with some perception of canonicity; I'll get back to that point soon enough. John's marriage to Roxy not working out is a testament to both his issues with canon and Roxy's issues dealing with harsh situations. Roxy latches onto John and their son as a huge carefree pushover and he doesn't like that at all. And that's actually cool with me because John x Terezi is better in every way, as the epilogues made me realize. If that wasn't enough, the end of Candy spoils our little hearts by having John reconcile with Roxy anyway and give hope for a better future. Though a part of me does want to see a true happy ending where John and Roxy date with their delightful dynamic from their first interactions, I'm beyond pleased with the epilogues' handling of John either way. Swaying deep into some rather sad territory while remaining 100% faithful to his character that I've always loved so much.

Terezi Pyrope: FUCK YES FUCK YES FUCK YES FUCK YES FUCK YES. Every scene with Terezi in the epilogues was so goddamn awesome. Her interactions with John were such a blast to read, with exactly the mix of humor and touching aspects that make both of the big John/girl ships what they are. How did the authors pull it off, making deeply emotional scenes without ever sacrificing that goofy Terezi flavor???

S-TIER

S in rating systems these days is way misused in my eyes. Normally A is meant to be the highest rating and S is used for the very rare absolutely exceptional case A doesn't do justice. But now you see shit like SS, SSS, SSSS everywhere like one S isn't the ultimate badge of honor? S is a rating I'd gladly give Detective Pony and may or may not give cool and new web comic. Same goes for my very favorite Futurama episodes. I'd give a few of Neil Cicierega's works that rating if I'm feeling up to it. In this post, I've reserved the S rating for:

Barack Obama: THE BEST PART OF THE EPILOGUES, HANDS DOWN. His conversation with Dave near the end of Candy is perfect in every way, it really transcends words. Humor, emotional touching, plot revelations, and straight up "Homestuck feel" are blended into the most delicious melting pot imaginable. When Dave confesses that he might be gay and explains troubles in his three-way romance, Obama responds with a truly inspiring speech about identity that raises an excellent point about the differences between the epilogues involving aspects of people that may seem immutable to some. I think Obama's speech leaves a powerful message I never expected Homestuck of all things to convey so well. I hope readers take that speech's message into account, though I know many will probably be a bit naive about it.

If you refuse to read the epilogues at all costs, then I implore you to read Dave and Obama's conversation anyway. You won't be disappointed.

CONCLUSION

epilogues good

that’s all there is to say on the matter

though if you don’t like them that’s also fine

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #epilogues #epilogues spoilers #homestuck epilogues spoilers #i predicted the future #i love john egbert #i love terezi pyrope #i maybe love vriska serket???#obama obama obama #johnrezi #yes good

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thisspiderwrites · 7 years ago

Text

bringing out the big guns (h.h.)

description: two kids grow up together because both ther their dads works with the mob, everything is amazing until one dad turns on the other and the kids have to decide where their loyalty lies.

word count: 1.3 k

requested: by @trasholland from this prompt list. “i’ve missed this” “we have to be quiet”

pairing: harry holland x reader

a/n: this is my contribution to @loverholland ‘s harry tuesday. also i was having a spy movie marathon so don’t judge

warnings: language, angst (i think), almost sex, violence, people get hurt

Y/n felt something cold rest on her forehead. Her kidnapper had a twisted smile on his face. He kept pushing her for information. She tuned him out and tried to keep a blank face. No matter how much they pushed they could never get her to talk. No single form of torture could get her to give up her father. Her left cheek was bruised and her nose a little crooked as it was broken. She clenched her jaw after being threatened a third time. Still she didn’t comply, she knew she was more valuable alive.

“Are you really willing to die for a rat like your dad?” she laughed bitterly.

“You are no better” she could taste her own blood on her tongue “aren’t you doing this for daddy too?”

She spit at the ground, looking back up at her captor. He was handsome. One-night stand material if he wasn’t a total psychopath. She saw his face changing, anger replacing his previous expression. She gave him a bloody smile, defying him. His chest rose quickly and his free hand grabbed y/n’s face, making her look straight into his eyes. She tried to hide her fear.

“Tom!” another figure came into the room, making Tom turn around. “Your shift as dad’s thug is over”

“I’m about to get us something valuable here Harry” Tom gestured for his brother to leave.

“I’ll take it from here” Harry insisted “go work out or something that boosts ego” Tom scoffed and exited the room, leaving the gun on the table.

Harry stared at the door until his brother was gone, then his eyes moved towards the hurt figure tied to a chair. She stared back with hatred and anger in her eyes. Her lip was busted and her arm looked pretty bruised as well. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the family business but he never felt guilty, until now.

“Harry Holland! They’re sending in the big guns now?” y/n said sarcastically. “Who’d have known that we’d end up like this?”

These two had known each other since pre-school. They had been each other’s best friends, as well as first kisses and first loves of course. But even the best of friends had their problems. In this case, a family feud fell short. Being kids of the mob was never easy, even if their parents got them everything they wanted. They were always in danger somehow, getting stuck in situations like this was more common than expected. Last time something like this happened was the last time they spoke to each other.

“This brings up a lot of memories, doesn’t it?” Harry got his pocket knife out.

“My mistake, the big guns went away with Tom’s ass” y/n mocked his unsophisticated weapon.

She remembered every single detail of the last time they saw each other. All the blood spilled along with the secrets and truths. She remembered his face covered is drops of blood and him standing over a dead body. She remembered his dad giving him a pat on the back while she sat on the floor holding herself, trying to shelter from the chaos and failing.

“You look like shit” Harry gave her a smile, fidgeting with his knife.

“Quit the act Holland, we both know you’re not going to hurt me” she clenched her jaw.

“Is that so?” he said coming closer to her. “If I recall correctly, I am a monster with no feelings” they were now face to face.

Being this close to Harry always did something to y/n. Staring into his eyes made her almost forget how mad she was. Having him close to her felt familiar, it felt right she was about to forget about everything for a while until she noticed a little scar on his cheek. The scar from that day. She had become a monster herself and even if she didn’t want to admit it, she was no better than him. Suddenly she realized she had misplaced her anger. She was angry at herself. She had done much worse.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call” Harry whispered in y/n’s ear.

“That’s what you think this is about?” she would’ve been offended if the rope around her wrists hadn’t suddenly loosened up.

He looked into her eyes once more, he remembered how hurt she was after that night and how it broke his heart to leave her. She was confused as to why he would let her go. Her eyes still had that sparkle he loved, he couldn’t help himself. She always made him weak in the knees. He took the opportunity to kiss her once more before she remembered she hated him. As much as she tried not to, she melted into it ignoring the pain coming from everywhere.

“I’ve missed this” he said caressing her cheek.

“You’ve gone soft Holland” she joked.

She took advantage of his distraction to make up a plan of her own. If she let Harry help her, she was signing his death sentence. She kissed him again to win some time for herself, she moved her hands to his face and stood up deepening the kiss. She directed him towards the table pulling on his tie. He lifted her by her bruised thighs bringing her closer to him. As distracting as this was, she remembered Tom left his gun on the table. She didn’t want to hurt Harry but she would rather do it herself than have anyone else touch a single hair on his head. She bit his lip, making him moan into the kiss.

“I didn’t know you were so needy” she smirked while loosening his tie.

She was getting too invested into this distraction. She had forgotten how much she missed his touch. When he started moving towards her jaw she almost let herself go. She could feel Harry’s growing bulge, she spread her legs wider. She started moving her right hand backwards, letting her left hand go straight to his hair. They suddenly became a moaning mess.

“We have to be quiet” he said quickly unbuckling his belt.

“Yeah, especially you” y/n’s hand met the cold metal of the gun.

With a quick movement she turned Harry around and pointed the gun to his head.

“What the hell are you doing?” he lifted his hands and y/n hooked her legs onto his hips and pushed his legs against the table with her feet.

“Sorry love, but if they figure out you helped we’re both going down.” y/n then proceeded to shoot Harry’s leg. She let go of him and laid him on the floor while he was screaming in pain. “I’m guessing you’ve learned how to make a tourniquet after everything that’s happened. If not, just use your belt.”

“Next time give me a head’s up!” he kept holding his leg down “take my p-pocket kni-ife” he was wrapping his belt around his leg.

“You already have the Intel about my dad that you need, I know you’re the mole” she checked how many bullets she had left and he contemplated her from the floor “don’t play dumb, I’ve known for months. Tell them I ran away but that you managed to get some stuff out of me” she ducked and patted his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, you’re a champ.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. He wanted to strangle her but he also wanted to finish what they started before she went bonkers and shot him in the leg. He also wanted to tell her he loved how clever she was.

“What do you think this is? A spy movie?” he still felt quite bitter.

“You kind of deserve it sweetie” she faked a smile and got up walking towards the door.

“This time I’ll call” he choked out.

She looked back at him one last time and sent a smirk his way before exiting the room ready to shoot anyone that got in her way.

tags: @trasholland @pillow223 @loverholland @parkerscupcake

wanna be in my taglist? click here

hope you enjoy!

#harry holland #this spider writes #harry holland smut #harry holland x reader

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zva-redink · 7 years ago

Text

Learning Curve Ch3/6

Oh man, going from story mode to script writing is driving me absolutely bonkers XP. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Rating: T

Pairings: Sheith

TW: Angst, Dark, AU, Violence, Murder

Keith is pretty good at learning from his mistakes, and in the first year of his reign as Emperor, he makes his fair share of them, but there are five lessons he learned the hard way that will follow him to his grave– or five times Emperor Keith screwed up, and the one time he kinda didn’t.

(Last Chapter: 4. Shiro Will Always Put You First…Even When He Shouldn’t)

Keith and Shiro’s first hook-up. Keith becomes quite distraught at the idea that Shiro let Keith fuck him when it becomes apparent he might have just been doing it because he thought Keith ordered him too, or that it was his duty…especially when it appears that Keith may have hurt Shiro from the encounter.

3. Never Ignore A Threat In Your Own Home

[Ch1] [Ch2]

[On Ao3]

His third major mistake one he thought he’d never make. People who ignored the problems that were happening right in front of their faces in blatant ignorance always pissed him off. He had always been the person to call people out on their bullshit. Yet here he was, willfully ignoring the issues festering right under his nose.

It had been obvious the moment Shiro had seen him with Lotor’s blood on his hands.

It had been obvious leading up to before they had left the Paladins.

It *should* have been even more obvious now, after the…*thing* that had happened in the observation room some odd weeks ago.

Keith had tried to respect his wishes, respect that Shiro didn’t want to become another guinea pig. Kolivan had been diligently working in the background, out of his own respect for Shiro. Using his old Blade resources, reports would appear periodically on Keith’s desk on what they could find of the Druid’s experiments, locations of any Druids still alive (which they were still striking out on–it was as if they had disappeared of the face of the *universe*), hell, even Ulaz’s old records that had been copied into the Blade’s databases had been cracked and left for him to either thumb through or pretend didn’t exist. After what Keith was dubbing as ‘the incident’, even *looking* at Ulaz’s old files made him want to vomit. He had burned it not long after it had been delivered, not wanting to partake in another massive breach of trust.

Really though, he should have paid more attention to the shiver that ran up his spine when Shiro proposed violent and offhandedly cruel battle strategies in the most cold and detached manner. He should have learned by now to listen closer to his instincts.

Kolivan was to his side, going over another successful battle report against Zarkon Loyalists and what had been the start of a rebellion, when they heard the commotion. There was a ridiculous amount of cheering going on, loud enough to be heard through the double insulated metal doors.

Kolivan and Keith shared a look, before they ducked into the hallway, Keith more than thankful he had been able to start wearing lighter armour more and more often now that his authority wasn’t being questioned all the time. Both of them seemed to slip into their old Blade habits, Keith checking the corner while Kolivan kept an eye behind them as they made their way silently down the open hallway to where the noise bounced down the hallway. As they came up to the open archway that led to one of the lower training arenas, a mass cheer spread through the room. Keith was too short to see exactly what was going on, but the moment he saw Kolivan’s expression over the heads of all the bodies packed into the room (was his entire damn *ship* in here?), he searched around until he found a storage locker, ducking his way through the crowd and hauling himself on top, some of the nearest soldiers doing a double take and freezing in a way that would be hilarious if it wasn’t also worrisome. Suspicious.

There wasn’t much in the way that the Galra found entertaining to *this* extent.

Once he was on top, he felt his eyes go wide as he watched Shiro drop a Galra with a spinning back kick. The Galra was picked up by the crowd surrounding the ring, throwing him back into the center, claws swinging wildly from what was no doubt a very rattled brain. Keith winced, memory of being hit with one of those kicks a few months into being a Paladin by *accident* giving him a bad enough concussion to require a healing pod. Shiro dodged each swipe, hands up to protect his face, bending and twisting in a beautiful motion with his crimson cape swirling around him that had Keith’s stomach clenching, bile filling his throat in response to arousal mixed with fear. Keith gave his head a hard shake.

What was *wrong* with him?

He *needed* to stop this…

He launched down from his perch, pushing his way through the larger Galra, heart beating in his throat at the thought of Shiro being surrounded by so many Galra. At the fear of Shiro going down and those packed around him piling on to him, each one wanting Shiro’s spot at the Emperors side. To prove they were stronger than even the Black Paladin. The crowd parted for him at the edge of the ring to Shiro’s back, a growl already working its way up his throat to protect Shiro when he hit what was surely going to be one of the worst panic attacks he’d seen yet…

…and doing nothing as he didn’t see a hint of tension in Shiro’s shoulders.

All his moves *flashy*–he hadn’t been cornered into this fight.

He was showing *off*.

He waited till Shiro knocked his opponent out with a chop and jerk to the back of the neck with his Galra hand, the sickening crunch bring the bile from before back *violently*.

That was senseless.

It was cruel.

“What the *hell* is going on here?!”

Immediately everything stopped, Shiro’s back straightening.

“Sparring.”

Keith blinked at Shiro…not actually sure if he was being serious or if he was doing something stupid like covering up for one of the Galra…but that wouldn’t make sense, he had just *killed* someone in front of Keith…

…for *no* fucking reason.

“This doesn’t look like *sparring*.” Keith said, avoiding looking away from Shiro’s eyes despite how *unnerving* his gaze was.

When had Shiro’s right eye turned gold?

How had he *missed* something like that?

“I haven’t had the honour to spar with my Emperor in quite some time.” Shiro said, Keith just barely avoiding wincing at the reminder that he had been avoiding Shiro everywhere except for in the war room. “I needed more of a challenge.”

Keith physically balked at that, glancing around at the Galra pressed in around him.

“You don’t generally *kill* when you *spar*!”

“He wanted my title. If anyone wants the title of *Champion*, they need to kill me for it.” Shiro stated, like it was the damn *weather*. “It’s only proper, that if he wanted to kill me,” a small smirk spread over Shiro’s face, “then *I* should be allowed to *defend* my title by killing.”

Keith felt his blood trying to drain as several hundred eyes turned to see his response. “If you want title matches it’s going to be by *my* rules.” Keith’s voice dropped to a chill, even as he struggled to keep it from shaking, brain whirring a thousand miles a second. There was no nice way to salvage *this* mess. “Anything more than sparring will be under *my* watch. You want your arena, you can have it, but our numbers are already low enough as it is. Save the *senseless* killing for our enemies. Do I make myself clear?”

There was some shuffling, and Keith could see Kolivan give him a nod from the back of the crowd.

“AM I CLEAR?”

The room snapped to attention, a “Yes, Emperor!” echoing through Keith’s brain.

“Get out. I don’t want to find out about anymore of this *shit* again.”

His deference was given, and the room began to clear out, two galra grabbing the body from the floor for proper disposal. Keith’s hand snapped out to grab Shiro’s arm before he could follow with the crowd, a slight frown on his face. “Not you *Commander*.”

Keith waited until the room cleared, before running his hands through his hair, feet starting to pace as his body screamed to get rid of all the energy, the *emotions* that were starting to boil around.

Shiro remained dutifully at parade rest, even as Keith growled and swore until he had everything bottled back in, until he could *breathe* even remotely better again.

The fist around his heart didn’t let go when he turned back to face Shiro.

“Shiro…” the sadness welled up, along with memories and feelings and *everything* he had *done* for Shiro to this point. Everything Shiro had done for *him*, his hand reaching up to Shiro’s face without his consent “What…what *happened* to you?”

He didn’t get a response, and he watched Shiro closely for any kind of reaction. Anything other than the twitch into Keith’s palm.

“Shiro…?” he prompted, his breath coming shorter, stinging behind his eyes.

“Shiro is gone,” Was breathed into his palm, and Keith? Keith’s whole world shattered further in a matter of moments. In the span of syllables passing lips that had always tasted like the cherry chapstick because the dessert had made Shiro’s lips crack and he knew Keith’s favorite flavour.

“There’s only the *Champion* now, my lord.”

The last section here is taken directly from @theprojectava’s You Keep What You Kill (2), and I can only hope I did it justice!

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[Burdens] [Routine] [Fade to Black]

#angst #dark #emperor!keith AU #shieth #hurt no fluff #keith kogane #keith (voltron)#takashi shirogane #shiro (voltron)

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