#FREE MY BOY FROM THAT FUCKIN GOLF COURSE

[talentforlying]

absolutely completely 1000% normal about new hellblazer tomorrow lads.

[milkycarroway]

BFDIA 10 SPOILERS kinda

I was contemplating whether I should tell this story or not because it’s kinda embarrassing but then I realised I have no shame so…

Yesterday during my school assembly an author was invited to give a speech or something idk

He promoted his newest and first ever book and said that whoever bought it today he would personally sign and give

I bought it.

I saw that everyone got the same message,

Dear (insert name here),

Happy Reading!

(Insert author’s signature)

See the author asked you individually for your name before jotting it down,

The free choice to ask him to write anything was there

And boy was I going to use it for my own desperate needs

In the acid trip which was BFDIA 9 team No-Name was put up for elimination

And judging from my blog PFP I bet you won’t believe who my favourite character is

As my turn approached I knew what I would ask for

Him: Name?

Me: Gb

Him visibly confused: Gb??? With a J?

Me: No, it’s with a G. That’s my friend’s nickname... I plan on giving this to her as a gift so could you write a personal message for her?

My actual friend also came with me to get a copy of her own and she absolutely knew that I never had a friend called Gb let alone have many friends in the first place.

She: NO IT’S NOT. IT’S A CHARACTER FROM A SHOW SHE LIKES CALLED GOLF BALL

Me: What NO! Of course not you weirdo. What a dumb name!

Oh how much it hurt to say that...

We argued back and forth like that until I finally got the book and left

(There was a long line of people behind us)

Since I’m a good friend I waited for her outside and there it was written in black and white

After watching the new episode I’m happy to say that SHE FUCKIN' MADE IT BAYBEE LET'S GOO

Now hopefully this blessing will last for a few more episodes…

[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

Y’all this is part one! I repeat!! There is a part two!! Literally no one has read yet!! ❤️❤️

She was a friend of Trager’s, from his past. A young girl he’d saved almost twenty years ago now a grown woman thriving. She worked as a waitress at a bar in Sacramento, and Tig often made visits to see her. As he visited last, he had mentioned that he was concerned for her health and wellbeing. He’d said things were getting kind of crazy around Charming. She took that as a warning to get out of Dodge, so she did. She found a place in Dallas to hunker down, found a good job, and made a little life for herself. She was alone, of course, but she had a few friends.

She got ready for work, putting her hair up into two cute little braided buns, pinning back any loose hair before putting on some winged eyeliner and mascara, some fake lashes, and bright red lips. Smoothing her black button down shirt and fixing her collar, she gets on her bike and heads to work. A few Hispanic bikers showed up as soon as the doors opened. They drank and cheered, celebrating something. She smiled as she wiped down the bar, hands pressing onto the wooden top stopping her circles. She looked up and met the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes.

“Hi! What can I get for ya?” She asks, biting her bottom lip ever-so-slightly as she finished speaking. The blonde’s grin only got wider as he ordered a drink, the leather kutte that rested atop his bare shoulders at first had her heart racing. He was gorgeous. Tall, blonde, wide shoulders, beautiful blue eyes, my god. He was a sight for sore eyes. Her eyes scanned the leather, reading his patches. Sgt. at Arms, Tacoma. Those two meant something to her, as she thought about it while she poured him a drink, and when it hit her she slid the drink to him without another look before disappearing. Her heart was pounding so heavily she thought it might explode. She was leaned against the cool brick wall when Jade found her with a concerned look.

“You okay?” She asks, grabbing the woman’s shoulder. Tig was a sergeant at arms for SAMCRO, and if this guy was the same for Tacoma, she had a bad feeling this guy wasn’t here on pleasure.

“Yeah, sorry. Just felt sick for a second, I’m fine.” She grins, heading back inside to find the blonde still planted at the bar. A few more men made it to the bar, and she could feel the blonde’s eyes on her every move. “You need a refill, Darlin’?” She asks, and his eyes meet hers for a moment as he nods, winking at her. Her knees went weak for a second as his fingers brushed hers when he took the glass.

“Thanks, doll.” She almost visibly choked at the nickname. She’d only been called that by one other person. Her eyes jolted to his and he winked once more, sipping from his drink and watching the golf on the TV above the bar. She hurriedly got the other men their drinks before returning to stand in front of the gorgeous biker.

“You know Trager?” She hushes, eyes pleading him for something. He couldn’t quite tell what she wanted him to say, so he gambled on a yes.

“Yeah, I’m SAMTAC, here on vacation. Trager and I go back pretty far.” He chuckles, taking another sip from his drink.

“Right, got a name blue eyes?” She asks, giving him a little smirk.

“Kozik.” He chuckles, reaching for her knuckles. He takes them into one big, ringed hand for a second before dropping it on the bar.

“Well Kozik, what brings a Tacoma bad boy like you to Dallas on vacation?” She asks, wiping out a couple glasses as her eyes scan the bar for anyone looking for a drink.

“Just got sick of Washington, I guess. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta tell ya, I’m lovin’ the view.” She snorts, rolling her eyes as she pours another drink for one of the men down the bar.

“How many poor unsuspecting crow eaters you use that on?” She scoffs with a smile. He laughs, giving her a great big smile making her heart jump.

“Probably too many.” He admits, shaking his head.

“Where ya staying?” She asks, writing down her name, apartment, and phone number on an old tab receipt.

“Mariot. Lemme tell ya, those beds suck ass.” He chuckles, eyes watching her scribble. Tig made Kozik a deal, if he could get the girl back to SAMCRO he could patch in. He took the job confidently, how hard could it be to convince a chick to get on a motorcycle with a hot biker? He chuckled to himself as he thought about Tig’s conversation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Kozik!” Tig shouted through the shop, finding the blonde in the lot working on his bike. “Dumbass! I got a job for ya!” He shouted, waving the big blonde into the clubhouse.

“What’s up?” He asks, wiping his hands off on a grease rag in his pocket.

“Tell you what, with all the shit that went down with Gemma, it got me thinking about a girl I saved.” Kozik snorted, raised his brows at the older man. Tig scowled, swatting him upside the head. “Not like that you fuckin’ idiot. Anyway, this girl is really important man. Be serious, or I’ll find someone else.” Tig warned, pointed a finger at the younger man.

“Sorry, man. Go on.”

“Anyway, lockdown is in four days. You gotta get this girl back here so I can keep her safe.” His eyes were darker than normal, Kozik noticed. Tig really cared about this girl.

“Okay, what’s in it for me? Where is she even at?” Tig looked to the floor.

“I’ll let you patch in. She’s in Dallas at a hole in the wall bar, I’ll give you the address. You up for the challenge?” He asked, scribbling down the information he needed. He watched on as Tig pulled his chained wallet from his pocket and pulled a picture from it. His thumb brushed over the little Polaroid.

“Dallas, man? That like twenty five hours away without stops dude.” He groaned, frowning. Tig grabbed his shoulder and Kozik met his eyes.

“I know, I know it’s a lot. But if anyone has a chance at convincing her to come home, it’s you. Please.” Kozik could tell he was so serious. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the photo from Tig’s hands and the address and got ready to head out. “Kid? Be careful. She’s a firecracker. She could, in fact, kill you if you piss her off, courtesy of me by the way.” He chuckled before he headed back to the garage.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well here, I’m not sure if my fold out couch is any better but Pop wouldn’t want me leaving you in a shitty motel.” She chuckles, sliding her information across the bar to the man before disappearing out of sight. Her shift is cut short by Jade appearing and grabbing the towel from her hands.

“You and blondie get outta here, Dax wants me to close up since we’ve been pretty dead. Go on!” She laughs, pushing the younger woman out the bar’s two-way swinging door and handing her her purse.

“Oh no, he’s a friend of Pop’s. So no. I won’t be ‘getting outta here’ with him.” She laughs, hopping on her bike and starting it, when his Dyna roars up next to her.

“You out already?” He calls, giving her a sweet, sexy smirk. With a nod, she zooms away with a smile, letting him follow behind her as she headed to her apartment. Pulling into the lot, she hops off her bike, waving him into the same spot she was parked in. As she heads up the stairs, she finds Missus Cipriani sitting on her porch, coffee cup in her wrinkled hands. Grabbing a chair, she sits next to old woman and offers Kozik to lean against the rail.

“Sweet girl, you found yourself a man?” She asks, grinning at the blonde leaned against the iron railing.

“Yes ma’am,” Kozik responds before she had a chance to get the words out. Kozik steps up, patting your shoulder.

“You look nice, tell me young man, what do you do for a living?” She asks, sipping her chamomile tea with honey. Lyra could smell the sweetness and desperately longed for a cup of it.

“I’m a mechanic in Charming, California.” He smiles, gripping the ebony-curled woman’s shoulder.

“Very nice, you two are cute. Have a good night, sweet girl. I love you.” Missus Cipriani smiles as Lyra stood to head to her door. “Lyra?” She asks as Kozik stepped into the small apartment, her apple doll face scrunched up as she smiled wide. “He’s a cutie. And a keeper. Good night, baby.” She grins, all big teeth and wrinkly skin. Lyra grinned back, blowing her a kiss.

“Night, Elsie. Love you. Sleep tight. If that damn cat wakes you up again let me know, I’ll kill that scraggly bastard.” Elsie laughed so hard for a moment, Lyra couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Of course dear. Goodnight.” Lyra steps into her apartment shutting the door. She turns to face the blonde, nervous and a little scared.

“So, Kozik. That’s it? Just Kozik?” He chuckles, looking her up and down, soaking in her petite body, licking his lips.

“It’s Herman Kozik. Don’t call me Herman.” He nips, pointing a finger at her. With a giggle, she unbuttons her black shirt, pulling it off to reveal a floral tattoo on her shoulder, and a plain black bra.

“Feel free to get comfy. I’m gonna go change and I’ll be right back.” She disappears, leaving him to collect his thoughts. They should be on the road by morning or they’d never make the first night. Though if he were honest, he’d rather they stay holed up in her apartment, finding out more about each other, maybe on a deeper personal level. He found her insanely attractive, he found himself having a hard time controlling the urge to touch her.

“Hey, want a beer?” She calls from the kitchen, drawing him back to earth.

“Yeah, that’d be good. Hey, I got a question.” He states, popping his beer cap and putting it in the pocket of his kutte and taking a swig.

“What’s that?” She asks, a small smile on her lips.

“I need you to come back to Charming with me.” He croons, eyes pleading with her.

“Oh no. No you don’t.” He tries to stop her but a fire rages in her eyes, hand gripping the neck of the bottle.

“Listen, I gotta bring you in one way or—“

“No.” She states plainly, sitting on the couch next to him and sipping her beer.

“Come with me.”

“No!” She barks, glaring at him.

“You don’t have a choice. I’ll kidnap you if you wanna look at it that way. Against your will, you can tell everyone in Charming I did it. I kidnapped you, but Tig knows and so do I, it’s for your safety. Get up, we gotta go. Pack a few bags, nothing major, it’s only a week.” He informs, taking another drink trying to calm his nerves.

“Make m—“ He hand covers her mouth and he gets within inches of her face.

“Don’t. Trust me, love. That’s not gonna end well.” He growls low, watching her eyes widen under his hand. With a quick, swift kick, he was flat on his back heaving for breath as she was sprinting away. Catching her ankle, he drops her on the floor and handcuffs her. “Tig was serious.” He huffs, trying to catch his breath.

Lifting her to her feet proved difficult, especially when she slammed her head into his. Grasping at his eye and growling, he tackles her to the ground leaving her there as he headed to her bedroom to pack a couple bags. When he was finished, he dragged her to his bike. Padlocking her handcuffs to the seat strap, he tucks her bags into the saddlebags.

“Christ, you’re such an asshole.” She hisses, her wrists burning from the tight cuffs.

“I’ll take those off if you promise to behave.” He coos darkly, trying to look scary. She chuckles with a glare.

“Behave, Pop did tell you I wouldn’t go willing, didn’t he? That would be why you have the cuffs, right? I mean, unless your a motorcycling badass who plays rent-a-cop.” She snarls. He was tired. He’d been up for almost twenty-seven hours, and he was exhausted. He gave a yawn, and she felt a little bad for being such a pain. Deep down she knew Tig was doing it out of love, but had he really sent this big brute to drag her back kicking and screaming? Of course he had. He sent this big blonde on purpose. He thought she’d be so swooned by his looks that he thought he’d be able to whisk her away. “Fine, I’ll cooperate, but take these off please. Number one, it’s not safe, and number two, I’d rather hold on to you. For safety reasons of course.” She giggles.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m unhooking them on one condition only.” He growls, fingertips feeling his cheek gingerly and wincing. He’d have a black eye from her little excursion.

“And that is?”

“You look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t plan on running, kicking my ass again, or ya know, any crazy horse shit Tig taught you. He’s just trying to keep you safe, and honestly, I don’t know why he sent me. He still blames me for his dog dying. So I don’t know why he sent me, but he did. He trusts your life with me, and I plan on delivering you to him alive. How alive you are, depends on how you wanna act.” He heaves a long sigh, sucking in a huge yawn.

“I know. Listen, let’s sleep tonight and leave in the morning. You’re too tired to drive. You can even handcuff me to you if it helps.” She assures, resting her head on his warm, bare shoulder.

“Yeah, sleep sounds good.” He whispers, unlocking the padlock and helping her off the bike. They went back inside and he did like she suggested he handcuffed her to himself and they laid on the couch. He laid down first, offering on top of him as a totally viable place to be comfortable. Giving a giggle, she agreed. Laying on him, she shivers against him, reveling in the warmth and sweet cologne and smoke that swirled around them. Yanking the blanket off the back of the couch over the two, in seconds they were fast asleep.

“Morning.” She calls from the kitchen as she hears him roll over. He’d left the cuff-keys within reach, and this morning at six when she had to pee, she found them and unhooked herself. She’d considered running, he wouldn’t find her for at least a few hours. She’d decided against it. It might be nice to go back to Charming and see everyone she’d missed. With a sigh, she found herself feeling a little excited.

“Tell me, Tacoma. You originally from Tacoma? Or somewhere else?” He sat up when he heard her voice so far away.

“How did you—“ She tosses the keys to him and disappears again, returning with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Thanks.” He smiles, taking a bite. “I’m originally from Charming, but me and Tig had a falling out. I left for Washington and Tig became Sargent at Arms for SAMCRO.” He nods finishing his breakfast and standing to stretch. “Hey, I gotta drain the radiator.” She points him towards the bathroom as she heads to his bike to grab the bags he packed. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he went looking only to find the apartment empty. “Fuck!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle just as she stepped back into the apartment to get rid of half the stupid things that he packed.

“Miss me baby?” With a snide remark, she watches as he heaves a deep breath.

“Fuck off.” He breathes, grabbing her tight against him. Was he scared for her safety? Was he worried that she’d run away? He didn’t know what made him do it, but he did, arms tightening around her. Dropping her bags at his feet, and grips his shoulders. “Next time say something.” He snips, pulling himself away from her and eyeing her bags.

“I was gonna repack really quick. I figured you didn’t pack anything I’d actually wear. Which means I’m either going naked or I’m repacking. And that’s totally up to you.” He grins darkly, grabbing her up and making her squeal before he put her back on her feet.

“Go ahead, I’ll be out here.” He smiles, smacking her butt as she scampered down the hall. Appearing a moment later with her bags, she grins at him as she slips out the door, Kozik following quickly behind.

“Missus Cipriani!” She knocks on the woman’s door. As the little old woman appears, she grins when she sees the bags and the big blonde behind her. “Hey, I’m gonna be gone for like a week. You think you could water Jethro and Lucille for me? I’ll leave you my keys.” She hands over her door key, and with a smile, they disappear down the stairs.

He pulls into a gas station and fills up, heading in for a drink.

“You want a drink?” He calls to her. With a little smile, she gets off the bike and heads in with him. His eyes caught a camera in the corner and a man with a swastika on his chest. Grabbing her hips, he pulls her against him, pulling her hood up over her head. “Don’t question me.” He hums in her ear as he leads her to the case for a drink. They both grab energy drinks and head to the counter. His leather kutte should have tipped they off, but they never saw her face. He got her to the counter paid for their things and headed out, hopping on the bike. “Don’t move.” He whispers, pulling a Kevlar vest from a saddlebag and haphazardly pulling it over her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Kozi—“

“Don’t.” He whispers as the man heads out of the store to a green and off white bronco. Grabbing his cellphone, he dials Tig. “Hey! What does Weston drive? Is he bald?” He asks, his face scowling as Tig answers.

“Is she with you?” He asks, and Kozik assures she’s safe.

“Yeah, she’s got the Kevlar on. Don’t worry.” He murmurs, “listen, does Weston drive a green two tone bronco?”

“Yeah, why? He there?” He asks.

“Yeah. I got it. Just gotta lose him.” He mutters. Climbing on the bike in front of her and shedding his beautiful kutte. “Stuff this between us.” He whispers, before he hears Tig.

“Hey, can I talk to her?” Kozik hands back the phone.

“Hey Pop!” She cheers, getting a sideways glance from a half-mad Kozik.

“He keepin’ you safe?” He asks, voice somber.

“Yeah pop. He’s pretty cute too. Good choice.” She giggles, hearing the blonde huff. Peeking around his shoulder, she sees a smug grin on his face.

“Stay with him, darlin’. I know it’s not ideal, but that Weston guy is gonna try to hurt you. Let Kozik do what he needs to. Don’t fight him. Okay?” He asks as his eyes filled with tears. He was terrified that Weston found them and they hadn’t even left Dallas yet.

“Yeah, Pop. You got it. Hey, is he a good one?” Kozik listened in for a second.

“Yeah, kid. Hold on tight.” He chuckles, swiping quickly at the tears that rolled down his cheeks as Clay walked in.

“Alright, Pop. I love you.” She whispers, feeling her throat start to close.

“I love you too, doll face. You and dumbass keep each other safe, okay? I’ll see you when you get here, hunny. I love you so much.” He whispers, letting her hang up. Tig’s hands smoothed up and down his lap for a while to calm himself down. He should’ve just gone by himself. He should have just done it. Gone and brought her home. He should have never made Kozik that deal. He knew she’d find him attractive, but she sounded genuinely interested. “We need to arrange someone to pick them up the minute they hit California. Make it look like a heist. I’ll send someone else for the bike with a tow truck. Kozik already has a tail. Weston.” He growls.

“Who’s Weston?” She asks as they floor it onto the highway. Kozik checking his mirrors to see the bronco get on right behind them.

“Hold on, babygirl.” He yells over the whipping wind as he cranks the speed. Revering in the feel of her arms squeezing tightly to him, he guns it harder as he weaves through traffic. He hadn’t even meant to call her that, but it slipped out and he didn’t take it back.

“Kozik! He’s gone!” She shouts, giving a shriek and hugging tighter to him as he guns it harder. They headed up to the panhandle of Texas and into New Mexico. As they pulled off into a big gas station and he pulls the bike between two big semis.

“Hey, you can take off the Kevlar. It’s okay. Weston got off in Albuquerque, I got a scout leading him back to Charming.” The pretty blonde heading into the store after filling the bike. She slipped into the bathroom and sat down to pee when she heard the door open and her heart stopped.

“Darlin’?” His rough sweet voice calls from the doorway.

“Yeah.” She calls, finishing up and heading out to find something to drink.

“Hey baby, you okay?” He asks, his arm loosely hanging over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go eat somewhere.” She coos, grabbing onto the front of his kutte.

“Yeah, I suppose we better. You up for breakfast?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, that sounds good. You okay?” She asks, eyeing him. He looked tired and scared. He looks up for only a moment before he grabs her hand and leads her to the counter with a couple energy drinks and a bag of pizza combos.

“I’m just tired.” He chuckles, dropping a ten on the counter and heading out the door, his favorite black-haired girl in tow.

“Yeah, you ready to find some grub?” She giggles as he swings her in a sweet circle, one arm around her waist, the other clasping her hand. “And you can dance.” She grins, laughing as he swings and twirls her.

“Not a lot.” He laughs, helping her onto the bike before climbing on, her small arms wrapping around his abdomen and holding tightly as he searched for a breakfast place. Pulling into a parking lot across from a Mariot was a little diner he prayed served breakfast. It was close by, they could walk over for actual breakfast in the morning. They had finally made it to Milan, that Kozik read on a pamphlet at the door. Heading into the restaurant, Kozik’s hand doesn’t leave her waist. They’d fallen into an easy routine of being in love, and they barely knew each other. He found he wasn’t curious. He’d loved just being around her. He lets her into the corner against the wall, sliding in next to her.

“Hi! Welcome to Milan! What can I get you two to drink?” Asks the bubbly, curvy waitress, with a happy smile. Kozik assessed her quickly before giving her one of his biggest smiles, making the young girl blush. Lyra felt her heart drop for a second, gripping his thigh.

“I’d like a coffee, just black.” She smiles, giving the blonde dirty look.

“Coffee too, got a long trip ahead.” He smiles, patting her upper thigh in contentment. As the girl nods and wisps away, he presses a kiss to her forehead and murmurs in her ear. “Darlin’, the only person in here with my full attention,” his fingers danced up her thigh, making her shift, “is you, babygirl. Don’t you worry.” He rasps, nipping at her ear before straightening up and flipping open a menu. She let out a few shaky breaths as the waitress reappeared with their coffee.

“You need a few minutes to look over the menu?” She asks, pulling her order book and pencil out.

“I do, you?” She looks to the blonde, kissing the bare skin of his upper arm where the tattoo sat.

“I need just a minute. Sorry, we’ve never been here.” He chuckles, one hand absently gently running back and forth along her inner thigh, exciting her senses and making her knees pull together squeezing his fingertips to make him stop.

“What are you doing?” She hushes into his ear, pressing an ardent kiss to the corner of his lips. He turns his head and kisses her square on the lips, his own warm and inviting. The waitress appeared back with her book, ready to take an order.

“If we order, can we get it packaged to-go?” He asks, one arm slung over her shoulders lazily.

“Yeah absolutely! What can I get packed up for ya?” They ordered breakfast, each getting two different things and got their bag of breakfast food and headed to the hotel across the street. He handed off the food to her and carried their bags in. After checking in, they all but sprinted to the room. He was ready to get her undressed, find out what that big tee shirt and shorts were hiding.

As they slipped into the room, she dropped the food on a table, yanking her clothes off in a whirlwind of flying objects, their clothes landing in a pile together. His warm, strong body met hers feverishly, holding her tight as his lips found hers in a passionate meet of tongues and lips. Her fingers combed through his soft blonde spikes, his fingers tangling in her dark ebony curls as they fell to her shoulders when he broke her hair tie. With a laugh, they continued to get more heated. Digging his wallet from his jeans pocket on the floor, he pulls over a condom, rolling it on as she watched. Grabbing his wallet chain, he unhooks in from his wallet, hauling her back against the bed and wrapping the wallet chain around her wrists twice and clipping them to the bannister of the metal bed frame. He stretched her legs straight down under him and she sucked in a breath when his lips met her cool skin with hot kisses and nips. He ground his hips into hers with smooth rhythm.

He gave a low growl as he slid into her, her eyes blown wide legs wrapping around his waist and her ankles crossing. Unhooking her hands and unwinding the cold chain, he drags it along her clammy hot skin sending shivers down her spine and leaving her gasping for air. The cold shocked her and he grinned as he dropped the chain to the floor and her hands found his back, nails biting into his muscular shoulders.

Hands digging for a hold on him as they reached their peak, Kozik grunting against her as he rode out his high, leaving the two breathless and sated. He padded to the bathroom and she heard the shower start. With a deep breath, she headed in after him with her little travel shower kit. They climbed in the shower and she grabbed her kit and handed him a bottle of men’s shower gel and grabbed her own floral scented body wash.

“Should I ask why you have men’s shower gel?” He chuckles, giving her a little smile.

“Tig sends me a bottle every year for Christmas. I told him I missed having him around so he sent me a bottle of shower gel to put in the corner like he still lived with me, or least visited.” She explains shyly, scrubbing his back, using the loofah to trace the letters etched into his wide shoulders. Something about the black ink against his lightly golden skin, the blonde hair and those beautiful ocean blue eyes that drank her in so often, she fell in love. She was totally in love with this perfect, gorgeous stranger. Pop had done it on purpose. He took the loofah from her hands and squeezed out the men’s body wash before putting her floral pink shimmery wash and scrubbing up and down her body. He found himself mesmerized by her beauty.

A few hours pass and she was reading a pamphlet about the twenty-four-hour pool. Shaking Kozik’s shoulder, he rolls and grunts, waving her away from him. Grabbing her cell phone and a towel, she changes into her two piece swim suit and heads down to the pool. Oddly enough, at two in morning, there was a man at the pool, short dark hair and a swastika tattoo at the base of his throat. He was tall, gangly, all arms and legs as he did laps around the pool seemingly minding his own business. She sits her towel on the fold out chair and saunters into the hot tub.

“Shit, it’s early.” He peeked through one eye and looked at the clock that sat on the side table. 3:45AM gleamed red. He reached for her waist to find the bed empty. Shaking his head, he waited a few minutes before getting up to check the bathroom to find the door open and light off. His heart started to pound as he started down the halls to the pool. Shoving into the pool room, he’s woken completely by the bleach smell starting a fire in his nostrils. He looked through the room and found it empty, expect for a SAMCRO towel hanging on a chair. “No.” He mutters, grabbing the towel and hunting around for any other idea as to where she went.

“Jump in, the water’s fine.” A dark voice calls from behind the blonde man. Kozik turns slowly to face a tall brunette, gangly with a swastika tattoo on his chest. Kozik leaned over the edge to find her sitting on the bottom of the pool.

“Christ!” He jumps in, jeans and black tee, grabbing her and dragging her to the surface and ripping the tape from her mouth and pulling her against him. Smoothing the hair from her face and starts chest compressions. “Come on! Come on! Please! Don’t do this to me!” He shouts, giving her chest compressions until she coughs up some water, sucking in a breath and sputtering up water. “Christ.” He heaves, gathering her against him and undoing the ties around her arms and legs. Lifting her up, he carries her to the chair, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her. Carrying her up to their room, he calls Tig to let them know what happened. He puts the phone on speaker as he continues to bustle around, pulling all of her wet clothes off of her. No answer. Slapping the phone shut, he tosses it aside to dry her off with a towel and tugging one of his tee shirts onto her and dragging the three layers of blankets up over her. He dials Tig once more, tucking his piece into the band of his jeans and getting everything packed up. They were leaving. In six hours she’d be the safest she could be at TM and he couldn’t handle her wandering off anymore. Why couldn’t she just listen to him? He paced back and forth until Tig finally answered.

“She’s okay.” Kozik starts, “but one of Weston’s guys tried to drown her.”

“What?” Tig storms.

“She’s fine. Sleeping right now. But I have everything packed and we’re leaving in a few hours. We’re six hours away. I’m gonna get her ready to head out in two hours. I’ll call before we hit the road. Tig I’m sorry. I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” He assures, still pacing.

“Lemme talk to her.” He asks.

“She’s sleeping, man.” He looks to her, eyes closed chest gently rising and falling.

“Kozik.” He warns. Carefully, he shook her shoulder and woke her up.

“Sorry, babygirl. Your pop wants to chat at ya for a minute.” She takes the phone, looking at him with a sad, tired smile.

“Hey, you okay?” Tig asks.

“I’m okay.” Her voice is almost non-existent as she rasps out the words.s

“Good to hear, baby. Kozik wasn’t with you when you went to the pool?” Tig drills her with questions and she starts to hunker into the blankets and drops the phone.

“Hey! She got really scared. What ever you were saying she got so scared, man. Listen, she’s safe. I’ll have her there in eight hours.”

“You better.” He growls. “You’ll be lucky if I even let you patch in after this.”

“Listen man, I don’t even care. As long as I get her back in one piece, I’ll go back to Tacoma.” He assures, clicking shut the phone and looking to her. He finds her staring at him in wonder. “Hey pretty girl, don’t worry. We’ll get you to Tig safely.”

“You come cuddle me?” She gets out, grasping her throat. Grabbing a bottle of water, he holds it gently to her lips, pouring the littlest amount into her mouth. The soothing cool water made her sigh and he crawled under the blankets with her for a second, warming her. “You can’t go to Tacoma. I love you.” She murmurs softly against his chest . He smooths her wet hair as she cuddles closer to him, falling fast asleep.

“Oh baby, I love you too.” He whispers, his heart pounding as she lightly snored.

[harrywavycurly]

Hi babes! This is Day 18 of the 25 days of summer series by the wonderful @always-jackedup I hope you enjoy this and go give all the wonderful stories in this series a read! You won’t regret it!💖

Day 18: Somewhere on a beach, where y/n and Harry spend the day at the beach with friends(I made this into a life With Narry Story)

25 days of summer mastelrsit!

“Niall James if you don’t come here,” you pointed to the spot in the sand right in front of you. “And let me put this sunscreen on you, I won’t let you get in the ocean.” You threatened making Niall just roll his eyes as Harry chuckled as he laid down on the towel that was next to yours on the beach.

“M’not a bloody child Princess,” Niall snapped as he turned so his back was facing you. “I already applied dis stuff before we got here.” Niall looked at you over his shoulder just in time to see you slide your sunglasses down your nose so you could shoot him a glare.

“You smell that?” You and Niall turned to see Harry looking around until his eyes landed on Niall. “It smells like someone’s pants are on fire.” You laughed as Niall flipped him the bird making Harry just smile as he put his hands behind his head to get comfortable on his beach towel.

You quickly sprayed Niall’s back and and even squatted down to get the back of his legs before standing up and tapping his shoulder. “Turn around and hold your breath.” You instructed making Harry snicker as Niall slid his sunglasses from off the top of his head and tossed them onto your beach towel. You sprayed his chest and did a quick once over of his face before taking some and spraying it on your palms making Niall raise an eyebrow as you rubbed your hands together before rubbing his ears making Harry once again burst into a fit of giggles as he watched from his beach towel.

“Yer next ya arsehole.” Niall mumbled as you made sure his ears got covered with the spf, you knew if you didn’t do it then he’d be whining later about how everything hurt and you just didn’t want to deal with it.

“Nope,” Harry stated as he turned so he was now laying on his side facing Niall who was bent over picking up his sunglasses. “I don’t burn like you do Ni.” He added making you laugh as you bent down and dropped the sunscreen into your beach bag. You grabbed your hat and put it on before headed towards the water with Niall following behind you. You were only ankle deep, trying to get used to the temperature when you felt arms wrap around your waist and lift you up.

“Only one way to get used to the water Princess.” You let out a squeal as Harry began walking further out into the ocean. “Just need to get it over with.” He added as he put you down in mid thigh deep water. You turned around and smacked his chest making him let out a laugh.

“You’re in a good mood this morning,” you stated as you reached your hands down into the water so you could playfully splash him. “Does this have anything to do with a certain musical project that might be finished?” You watched a smirk form on Harry’s face as he shrugged, you knew he was done in the studio since last week because all of a sudden he had all this free time and would show up at your house or work randomly.

“Maybe,” He said as he splashed you back making you laugh. “Or I’m just happy to be around my best friends enjoying this lovely day at the beach.” You looked at him and smiled before you moved a little to the side so you could see Niall slowly but surely making his way over to the two of you in the water.

“It’s bloody freezin,” You laughed as you Niall finally reached the two of you with a little frown on his face. “M’gonna turn into an Irish ice cube by da time we get out.” He added and Harry just rolled his eyes and splashed him making Niall let out a groan.

“Don’t be such a baby.” You teased as you submerged yourself so that only your chest was above water. “It feels fine, just have to get used to it.” You watched Niall roll his eyes before he went under the water quickly with Harry doing the same.

“Nope.” Niall’s voice was low as he ran his hands through his wet hair. “Still fuckin cold.” You laughed as Harry shook his hair causing water to fling onto you and Niall.

“So what’s the plan for next week boys?” You asked as you adjusted your hat while walking out deeper into the water. “Who’s doing what and where?” You added making both boys laugh because they didn’t even realize it was Sunday, and on Sundays you liked to have a rundown of the following week so you knew when you’d have time to see each of them.

“M’not doin a whole lot.” Niall stayed as he made it to where he was next to you while Harry was on your other side. “Got a few meetins on Monday and Thursday, den finishin some studio stuff Friday but other dan day m’free.” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder making you smile.

“I have a meeting on Tuesday, and we have dinner Wednesday.” Harry looked at you and you just nodded, you knew he was thinking you’d forgotten but you were never one to forget things that involved food and wine.

“Dinner? Since when did we have dinner plans?” Niall asked as he leaned his head so he could look at Harry who just pursed his lips and looked away from Niall. “S’a bloody P and H date innit? Dats some bullshit mate ya got er all last week while I was at me golf tournament.” You just wrapped your arm around Niall’s waist and pulled him closer to you as the three of you stopped walking once you were a little over waist deep in the water.

“It’s not like that Niall,” You tried to reassure him but he just rolled his eyes. “It’s more of a business meeting.” You added making him look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Yer lettin her hear it aren’t ya?” Niall asked Harry who just dropped his arm over your shoulder on top of Niall’s.

“Only a few tracks, the ones that are going to be released as singles before the whole album is out.” Harry answered making Niall smile and nod his head while you just looked at both of them and smiled.

“S’a big deal mate,” Niall admitted causing Harry to just shrug. “Ya‘ve been workin hard on dis album H, s’gonna be great.” You watched Harry bite back a grin because even though he jokes about being a narcissist he really did crave the approval of the people he cared about the most.

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about it,” Niall laughed as you shot him a wink while Harry just shook his head. “Unless he makes me sign a non disclosure agreement.” You joked as you looked at Harry who was playfully glaring at you.

“It was one time,” Harry defended making Niall laugh as he slid his arm from around your shoulder. “I even made my mum sign one.” You rolled your eyes as Niall reached down and put his hands in the water.

“Can’t believe ya made poor Anne sign a bloody NDA.” Niall said as he tried to splash Harry but he quickly pulled you so you were now in front of him. “Yer such a wanker.” You squealed as Niall tried to splash Harry again but he kept making you block it.

“Harry Edward if you don’t stop,” You squealed making Harry just laugh as Niall kept splashing at Harry and getting you in the process. “Niall James!” You whined making Niall chuckle as he stopped splashing. “Such children.” You huffed as Harry just wrapped both arms around your shoulders and rested his chin on top of your head.

“But you love us don’t ya?” Niall asked as he gave you his best grin making you just playfully roll your eyes.

“A little too much actually.” You admitted as Harry placed a wet sloppy kiss to the top of your head. “Life would be boring without my boys.” Harry gave you a squeeze as Niall just nodded his head in agreement because you and Harry added quite a good bit of fun to his mundane day too day life.

“Our lives wouldn’t be the same without you either Princess.” You just smiled as Harry began rocking you back and forth as you brought your hands up to cover his.

The three of you spent the rest of the day at the beach, enjoying the sun and the water and just soaking up as much time together as you could. You knew this was one of the last days that all three of you would be together for a while because you had the inside scoop that both of their albums were near completed and once that happened you knew it was only a matter of time before the promo tours and headlining stadium tours began. While of course you’d go and see them as often as you could it wasn’t the same as when all three of you were home and able to relax together. It was days like today where the three of you could just go and enjoy the day and each other’s company that you loved the most.

[bigloquatthoughts]

Thoughts While I Watch The Nintendo Direct A Day Late

Thoughts on the Nintendo Direct: Yoko Toro is an interesting person, that card game looks interesting but Y wouldn’t I just play Talisman? Cool to see more isometric RPGS on switch.

Hyrule Warriors is fun! Age of Calamity is where I really fell in love with the musou formula again - I played a LOT of DW Empires 5, so taking over a map / doing stuff on a map before combat is fun. The silly weapons like the broom etc also make this really fun. I’ll gladly play more of this. the new scientist warrior looks sick! Who asked for Chocobo GP? This looks like Garfield Racing re-skinned and with better physics maybe. When they said Chocoboooooo! I was hoping for a Chocobo’s Dungeon. My buddy Ted got that game with his PS1 and we though it was soooo cool, especially after playing Azure Dreams on Gameboy.

Thanks for telling us when we can see the new Smash Fighter which is probably more Sword boy / Sword gorl why won’t you put any interesting fighters in this game I am moving to Smash Bros CatDog Edition. Kirby washing up on an island is the most unlikely thing for a being who summons giant warp stars to fly through the universe on but okay. this looks INCREDIBLE. Kirby + Nier vibes with the busted up environment. what bums me out is that we saw the same enemy like, 10 times in the first 10 seconds of that one area. The giant snakes / fish are cool, but lets see some more variation maybe 3D Kirby boss fights look pretty freaking fun! 3D Kirby looks pretty great. It will suffer from Kirby things and also be fun. I will play it.

Hey, don’t worry. We’ll tell you some things about Animal Crossing in October. Not now - but in October. U will have content in November. Just hold on pls, be on the lookout for all ur rotten turnips in ur house

Lets move on, to more stuff second free update for Mario golf, which I would LOVE to play but can’t afford rn. I played it at my neighbors the other day and it’s pretty damn good. new courses and seeing little ninji run around will be very fun. Cool, kid Disney game. Dope. Old Republic for Switch looks great! Dying Light 2: Mirrors Edge edition. Oh, we can play with other people? That seems fun. Do we scavenge together? The Control cloud game demo felt okay on my wifi, but IDK about these cloud games as something worth getting on the switch when PC’s are a thing?

Triangle strategy looks dumb, Disgea does that shit better now right? Metroid Dread looks really cool, excited to run from big robot and make Samus Very Strong Hopefully u get to crawl around as big robot at some point in the game. Love the lore dump we get. Dude, Chozo were here! That’s sick!

Many people have been using switch online… Oh, giving out their old roms gathering dust for “free,” with their current sub was too generous for Nintendo I suppose. New plan for N64 games seem sick - the playing together online thing is very cool. Starting library is standard but nothing too exciting. Very excited to see how the emulation handles these games in relation to how they behaved on the console, as all the cool sped running shit we see in these sorts of older games vary depending on the version of the game.

I’m more excited about the Genesis line up than I am about the N64 one, save those two games I don’t recognize. We get Castlevania, a Contra, some puyo, Beatem ups, and playing this version of Gunstar Heroes might sell more of the other one. Expansion Pack is a name.

Notice how Mystical Ninja Starring Goemon and Comix Zone are not on these lists? They are too afraid to give us the best of what both platforms have to offer and it’s a shame.

WIRELESS CONTROLLERS FOR $60 EACH? ARE THEY BLUETOOTH SO I CAN USE THEM WITH OTHER STUFF? WTF

I was just talking to my friends about the Shadowrun Isometric RPGs last night! Cool. Castlevania collection looks dope. Button mapping is huuuuge for me. Love that. An Almighty Classic Returns: Actraiser - even the SNES game was hella off my radar, this looks dope. I’m down to side scroll and then town build. Deltarune + Homestuck are games that I really really want to play but my depression is such that I just sit and stare at the starting screen and nothing happens. One day I will consume Toby’s works and be better for it. But until then, I’ll just be excited for my friends and listen to the baller soundtrack. god dammit I love that dog.

new story of seasons looks cool but Natsume is dead, no hope left cept for Stardew #doomer NAMCO Hamster - yes. Rune Factory 5 might be good on the switch. The 3DS versions were sooooo sloooowwwww for me. I’ve heard really good things about the franchise as a whole though. MARIO movie thoughts: THIS CASTING IS GREAT EXCEPT FOR CHRIS PRATT WTF. WHY IS HIMBO WHO HATES GAYS MY MARIO?

CHARLIE DAY AS LUIGI WAS WRITTEN IN THE FUCKING STARS EXCEPT HIS SHORTER THAN FUCKIN CHRIS PRATT, HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU MESS THIS UP. CHARLIE DAY AS MARIO AND CHRIS PRATT AS LUIGI BECAUSE HE BUSTS GHOSTS WHICH IS SUPER THEOLOGICAL ANYWAY GOD DAMN DUDE. THIS ISN’T THAT HARD.

KEEGAN MICHAEL KEY AS FUCKIN TOAD MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD. I AM SO EXCITED FOR THAT.

JACK BLACK AS BOWSER - WOULD HAVE BEEN A BETTER MARIO BUT ANYTHING THIS MAN TOUCHES IS GOLD.

Movie is saved by Seth Rogan, I bet you 1 full bitcoin that DK saves this fuckin movie.

FRED ARMISEN AS CRANKY KONG IS ACTUALLY PERFECT. He is a real life hipster Cranky Kong and I love it. Dude playing Kamek looks familiar? Who is that

After seeing Wreck it Ralph, doesn’t Mario sound more like a Kenneth the Page than a Starlord? IDK man. Boomers are weird. Splatoon 3 looks cool, bummer it’s still 4v4 but whatever. the story mode for 1 and 2 were great aside from the difficulty spikes. stoked.

THE WAY THAT BAYONETTA IS REVEALED IS ONE PUNCH MAN TIER COMEDY.

Also, ya’ll spoiled it for us with the capcom font.

WAIT A GLOVED HAND PUNCHED, NOT A DEMON HAND? YOOOOO MOMMYYYYYYY THIS HAIR.

YOOO BUTTERFLY SHIT HELL YEAH

THERE IS MY BIG HAIR DEMON YES OH SHIT WE GET TO MEGA ZORD FIGHT WITH OUR DEMON?! THIS IS FUCKIN SICK

OH DIFFERENT DEMONS TO FIGHT WITH THIS IS SICK. THIS IS HOW I WANT POKEMON TO PLAY. 100% NOT JOKING. BAYONETTA: GODZILLA EDITION

HOLY SHIT THAT IS TIGHT

UHHHH IS DANTE GONNA BE IN THIS

WHO IS THAT BOI WITH THE SWORD

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Alright. There have been better directs, Christmas line up is looking p weak so far. Hopefully they can give us some bangers for holiday.

[enzoseven]

oldie

LyricsYo, shout out to everybody that worked on the album You feel me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie Ocean Shouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy AwkBig eared bandit is tossing all his manners In a bag and wrapping them in seran wrap bandages Tossing 'em in baskets with the rest of those sandwiches So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an accident Um, flowing like my pad is the maxiest My bitch white and black like she's been mimicking a panda It's the dark skinned nigga, kissing bitches in Canada Then kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did Pamela Put her in the chamber all against her Wilt Chamberlain I never had a Reason, nigga I was just Ableton Not a fucking Logic contradicting dick head Flyer than an ostrich moshing in a tar pit Semen scented cheetah printed tee In that 'Preme five panel, I'll repeat it for the season Previous items in the present With the normal ass past like I cheated on my team It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)To have some type of knowledge that is one perception But knowing you own your opponent is a defeating bonus I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage cartridge is boneless Smiles of cowards in lead showers Dead spouses in red blouses Children who fled houses on Mustang horses and went jousting I'm on my Robin Hood shit, robbin' in the hood Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm stealing your rings Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot And salute like the troop when you shoot you gon' poop It's kill Hodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my stoop And out my Kool aid, JuiceHodgy got the juice, I got the gin Jasper got the Henny, my nigga we get it in Wolf Gang party at the hotel I call a ho, you call a ho, and all the hoes tell You know Left Brain need a freak I need a bitch to go down like a Nitty beat Yup, uh, and her ass fat Don't be surprised if I ask where the hash at Nigga I'm tryin' to smoke, bitch get higher Domo where that Flocka Flame? Talkin' 'bout a lighter Still bang salute me or just shoot me Cause if you don't salute me then my team will do the shooting Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the black jack The king Mike G is in the cut with the black mac Livin' like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up And if these haters actin' up, throw 'em in the aqueduct Free my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much But two bad bitches in front of me cunnilingusWhat the fuck is caution? Often I leave you flossin' and cause exes next to coffins Lost in translation, the dreams you chase Got you diving for the plates like you stealin' home base That's great, I'm home alone dreamin' of two on ones With Rihanna and Christina Milian, bring it on And Travis is in the closet organizing and hangin' the tramp Three lettermans that Ace has been making him No strays while we catchin' matinees, huh? I'm gettin' blazed thinking 'bout those days I had the top off the GT3 like toupees One finger in the air, all's fair when crime pays My grand scheme of things is to be attached To the game like bitches to their wedding rings And you don't even need to look cause we gleam obscene In the light, ride slow to my yellow diamond shining Like the Batman logo over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem If you say "get 'em Mike G" then I got 'em One man squadron, nigga I'm a problem From Briggs I got bars and plans to Pimp these Polish bitches into pop stars Humanity kills, we all suffer from insanity still And if I said it then it is or it's gonna be real OF 'til I OD and I probably will, uhIt's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby mommy popped With my other snobby bop, do I love her? Prolly not Know your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Macaulay Cock I've been runnin' blocks since a snotty tot Big wheel was a big deal with the water Glock Now I'm all grown, sing songs just to give 'em watts Fire what I talk, but still cooler than the otter pop Op Dom neck shit in your wish list Mad sick shit, mad dick for your bitches On some slick shit, your mistress on my hit list And I'm lifted 'til I'm stiff out of this bitch Odd in your motherfuckin' area Blood clots give me five feet 'fore I bury ya Suicide flow, let the big wave carry ya Tyler got the mask like he held Jim Carey up And fuck your team, ho nigga wassup Wolf Gang so you know we not givin' no fucks You know me dog, I'm a chill in the cut so I can Cut it short, break it down, couple pounds, roll it upGet me a Persian rug where the center looks like GalagaRent a super car for a day Drive around with your friends, smoke a gram of that haze Bro, easy on the ounce, that's a lot for a day But just enough for a week, my nigga what can I say I'm hi and I'm bye, wait I mean I'm straight I'mma give you this wine, the runner just brought the grapes My brother give it some time, Morris, and Day Course you know the vibe's as fly as the rhymes On the song, cut and you could sample the feel Headphone bleed, make this shit sound real Used to work the grill, fatburger and fries Then I made a mil and them psychics was liars Now, how many fuckin' crystal balls can I buy and own Humble old me had to flex for the fogs Down in Muscle Beach pumpin' iron and bone Bumpin' oldies off my cellular phone Yeah, bumpin' oldies off my cellular phoneGoddammit, this rapping is stupid and it's hard Gotta do it over and over and over again but here I goHey it's Jasper, not even a rapper Only on this beat to make my racks grow faster Got a TV show, so I guess I'm an actor Pot head, half baked, lookin' like Chappelle Rollin' up a blunt with that fire from hell Still ignorant, still hit a bitch Wolf Gang, nigga, so I still don't give a shit Catch me in the back with Miley on my lap Bong rips as I feel on that little bitch catHah, nigga came through with a 9 bar real quick Just for the bitches, little bit of money in my pocket Fuck it, Wolf GangYeah, fuck that, look, the contrast is a pair of lips Swallowin' sarapin, settin' fires to sheriffs whips (Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' All-American terrorist Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick And me? I just spent a year Ferrisin' And lost a little sanity to show you what hysterics is Spit to the lips meet the bottom of a barrel So that sterile piss flow remind these niggas where embarrassed is Narrow, tight line, might impair him since I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, wearin' pack of parasites Threw his own youth off the roof after paradise La di da di, back in here to fuck the party up Raidin' fridges, tippin' over vases with a tommy gun Never dollars, poppa make it rain hockey pucks And 60 day chips from fuckin' awesome anonymous Call him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe Off the wall loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra clutch Vocals bold and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum And let me hit and beat it with a stick until the hole was numb The culprit of the potent punch Scoldin' hot as dunkin' scrotum in a Folgers cup, or Nevada Drivin' drunk inside a stolen truck, shittin' like his colon bust Belly full of chicken and a fifth of old petroleum Supernova, I'm rollin' over the novices I'm roamin' through the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is Stay gold 'til the case closed and the story end Post mortem porkin' this rap shit and record it To escort it to the morgue again, lord of lips Bored of this, forklift the tippy top, best under 40 list Stormin' the gate, ensurin' the bass, scorchin' ladies Motherfuckers sore in torso and face Get at me with savages, have a pack of Apache Indian pack of niggas who don't give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence As a matter of fact, your swagger is tacky So see me you can't like Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi Back like lateral passin' With that motherfuckin' gladiator manner of rappin' As an addict I let percocets and xannies relax me Fall back if your paddies is Maxi, pleaseOF, shit that's all I got From my bigger brother Frankie to my little brother Tac From that father figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks Shredding down 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fuckin' block Storefront, knee tat Book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and cotton socks And grip tape, and my shoes Um, I was 15 when I first drew that donut 5 years later, for our label yea we own it I started an empire, I ain't even old enough To drink a fuckin' beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop This is for the niggas in the suburbs And the white kids with nigga friends who say the n-word And the ones that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd Cause you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Steven Spielberg They say we ain't actin' right Always try to turn our fuckin' color into black and white But they'll never change 'em, never understand 'em Radical's my anthem, turn my fuckin' amps up So instead of critiquing and bitching, being mad as fuck Just admit, not only are we talented, we're rad as fuck Bitches 

I don't own this lyrics I got it from odd future

[akechicrimes]

yes. and no. and also yes.

if yall havent been keeping up with lokiarsene’s translations, specifically rank 7, take a fuckin sip of that good good akechi content, because this post is about those. also say thank u to lokiarsene for translating this shit for u for free.

akechi does turn everything into competition, but i think that changes over the course of the social link as he realizes that these “games” he’s playing akira are actually, uh, fun. games are really supposed to be played for pleasure and competition simultaneously, which already characterizes akira’s and akechi’s relationship pretty well.

but i think playing games also becomes the basis by which akira and akechi start to relate to each other and eventually, the means by which they come to understand each other and become more emotionally intimate.

all games are a win condition and set of rules that restricts player freedom in creating the win condition. in this case, games become the blueprint by which a queered, but closeted, relationship manages emotional intimacy despite a situation that says they’re not allowed to be together.

what is a game? (aka boy fuckin howdy this meta got way too long and now I need signposts to understand where the fuck I am in my own argument)

all games are a win condition and a set of rules that restricts player freedom.

this applies to basically all games, from poker to basketball to golf to JRPGs to career-climbing to the little dinosaur game you play on your chrome browser. if you can think of a game that isn’t fundamentally an objective and a set of rules that restricts player freedom, let me know.

i think most people know that games always have a win condition. basketball asks you to get the ball in the hoop. blackjack asks you to get closer to 21 and not over than your peers. JRPGs ask you to kill your dad or god, or both.

i phrase rules as “restricts player freedom” because, although we could phrase the different “moves” as a type of script you’re supposed to follow, it’s actually easier to say that rules are a list of things you can’t do, rather than things you’re supposed to do. a lot of moves have what you can’t do baked in, e.g. in golf, you should use your putter when you’re on the green. baked into that is a set of other things you’re not supposed to do: you cannot pick the ball up with your hands, you cannot use any other club except your putter, you may not use your putter in a way the putter is not intended. that is to say, a lot of sports equipment is just another example of ways that player freedom gets restricted (lacrosse requires you to use a lacrosse stick, ice skating requires you to be on skates, card games require you to use cards instead of anything else, super smash competitions require you to--well, play super smash, which is in itself a huge piece of equipment).

restricting player freedom is where the fun comes from. in soccer, for example, the entire fun of the game is that you can’t use your hands. it’s supposed to be difficult. the more handicaps you have, the more interesting it is. this in itself highlights the fact that akechi uses his non-dominant hand for the billiards scenes, because he himself is intentionally restricting his own player freedom. he’s imposing his own rules on himself for the sake of entertainment, really.

*

“I might have to follow the rules but there are other ways to say ‘fuck you”

a lot of the fun is working with the rules without breaking them--working around them, bending them, using them creatively without technically doing anything illegal. you can’t use your hands in soccer, but you can hit the ball with your knee, your head, your chest, literally any body part except your arms. think about video games in particular--think about the skyrim players who, entirely without mods, manage to create rings that can effectively enable them to KO any enemy in a single punch. or other skyrim players who forge armor that’s so stat-stacked that you become effectively invincible. bending rules is a type of game in itself.

akechi is like. mega fucking pro at this. akechi has 100000000000 different things he cannot do because of all sorts of rules and all sorts of games he’s wrapped up in, and he works around all of them without technically breaking the rules. he doesn’t have any legal rights because he’s a minor, so he gets a part-time job. he’s a bastard child with no parents, so he volunteers himself for his persona powers. he’s a kid who’s likely not going to be taken seriously by his adult coworkers, so he dresses to the nines every day like an old man. it’s not what he’s supposed to do as an 18 yr old kid--but it’s not illegal to dress in argyle, either. (although maybe it should be.)

think about akechi’s entire sequence in sae’s casino, where he bends the rules so hard that they almost break. did he break explicit rules? technically not. but did he “break the game” by racking up unholy amounts of cash? sure did.

*

“just realized I don’t like this game very much but there’s no Child Protective Services to help you when ur dad runs the government. FML”

of course, we know that akechi doesn’t exactly like the situation he’s gotten himself into.

not that I don’t think akechi has any moral qualms against breaking rules or laws, but I do think that he’s aware that if he disobeys shido, he’ll get killed pretty fast. (thanks, kobayakawa.) he does have to actually play the game by the rules just out of pure necessity. and when it comes to his detective prince reputation, he needs to keep up appearances so that he doesn’t get fucking lambasted by all of Tokyo.

suddenly, the rules of the game aren’t fun competition that he can stop playing when he gets bored, but laws that genuinely restrict his freedom every minute of every day. I would argue that in basically no scene during persona 5 vanilla does he talk to sae, the phantom thieves, or literally anyone without the ghost of shido’s agenda or his detective prince reputation lurking over his shoulder and compelling him to behave in certain ways. naturally, he mentions frequently that he feels like he’s not free or doesn’t have the ability to make the choices he wants to. take a look at even the scene where one of his fangirls spots him in public—even though it should be nice to be so popular, it actually limits his freedom to go where he likes, and he can’t necessarily tell them to back off without suffering public backlash.

(I’d also like to point out that the way akira solves this issue is by giving akechi a disguise that enables akechi to be more free—a mask, so to speak, that enables akechi to act anonymously under his own power—a little bit like a thief who is better able to do good under the protection of anonymity—almost as if masks make u more free—hmmmmmmm. lmfaooooo.)

making matters worse, akechi has more than one game happening on his plate. there’s the Yaldabaoth game (win condition: whatever the fuck yaldo wants), the shido game (win condition: revenge), the detective prince popularity game (win condition: maintain popularity/get attention), and the  “I’m investigating the phantom thieves” game (win condition: capture the phantom thieves).

by the time akechi comes to interact with akira, the rules—that is, the things that akechi is barred from doing—are suffocating. rules and games are supposed to be fun, and this is……………… not. the things he’s outlawed from doing vastly outnumber the things he’s allowed to do. his options are narrowed down to very very very few courses of action, and most of them involved murder.

(there’s also a parallel here with the law. laws are supposed to protect and better society, not be so convoluted and corrupt that they hurt the very people they’re supposed to serve. again, same with sae’s palace: the courts are supposed to find the truth, not become such an intense competition that sae is unable to pursue true justice.)

(I would also argue that it’s precisely the fact that akechi has so many different games he’s playing that he requires so many different “faces” in order to cope with them all. if he seems like he’s two-faced, that’s probably because every single game requires him to be a slightly—or drastically—different person in order to succeed.)

*

nice legs daisy dukes makes a man go *dies in cognitive boiler room*

this brings us to akira.

akechi’s not fucking around when he says that they’re similar. like akechi, akira’s playing—and to varying degrees of success—several different games simultaneously. from the start, he’s playing the “I’m a good boy who will get through my probation without a problem, thank you sojiro” game. akira is also playing the Yaldabaoth game. akira’s wrapped up in the phantom thief thing, playing by the rules of the metaverse to change hearts and reform society.

(again, I’d like to point out that akira has so many different faces because of these different situations, same as akechi. also, that akira is a direct victim of dysfunctional law.)

what’s fascinating about seeing akira and akechi interact is that there are so many restrictions on what they can and cannot do, it’s a little bit like a collision between ALL the different games simultaneously, and they start to blur together, enabling akechi to speak about any one of them at any given time because they’ve all started to collapse and conflate.

and then we take these two boys with so many restrictions on them, and they play this unholy mashup of every single game at once.

on its face, akechi is trying to dig up more information on akira because he suspects akira of being the phantom thief. the rules are that akechi cannot accuse akira of being a phantom thief without evidence (since the courts are, indeed, yet another game to be played and a set of rules to be followed--thank you, sae, for making that analogy extremely literal. also thank you p5r for emphasizing games as a prominent aspect for both sae and akechi. that was extremely cool of you). akira, in turn, cannot accuse akechi of talking to him only on suspicion of being a phantom thief, because akira is supposed to be a normal boy who doesn’t know anything about phantom thieves, and also isn’t supposed to be saying fuck cops in front of cops, even though he did that on live television to akechi’s face.

then there’s the shido game: akechi cannot accuse akira of being a phantom thief without shido’s say-so. akechi also cannot tell akira about shido’s conspiracy without backlash (read: getting offed). then theere’s the Yaldabaoth game that both of them are wrapped up in, which is what started this whole persona nonsense in the first place.

later on, additional layers get added on when akechi joins the phantom thieves, because then the game changes to akira attempting to outwit akechi’s attempt on his life, which means that akira cannot accuse akechi outright of joining the PT only to betray them because that, too, will blow up in his face.

I would like to argue that there’s one more game that’s occurring, which is the socializing game. akechi saw akira the phantom thief and decided he was going to get his number on the spot (lmfao. legend), and is now taking the necessary steps to establish a relationship with him, and there’s a whole song and dance involved in getting to know a complete stranger.

the win condition, in theory, is that akechi discovers whether or not akira is a phantom thief (which advances him in the two other games akechi’s playing with shido and his detective prince façade). the rules are that when you’re living in a city like tokyo, you have to text someone (not call them, because that comes off too strong), get them to agree to meet, arrange a time and place to be, and then provide a neutral activity for both of you to do so that you don’t just, yknow, sit and stare at each other with nothing else to do or talk about. (like akechi notes quite plainly, the point of going to a coffee shop and ordering a cake isnt to eat the cake. it’s to use the cake as a conversation starter.)

(i’d like to point out here that neutral activities to do together functions also to be a means of plausible deniability. it’s a way of alluding to things that you can’t, or even things you’re not supposed to, and having an easy and quick escape route if the conversation goes badly--”oh, i didn’t mean to imply that. actually i’m not comparing myself to a billiard ball after all. i really was talking about just billiards.”)

all of these factors come together into a pretty cohesive dynamic called The Rivalry Game, in which akechi and akira must pretend they’re doing literally anything else other than what they’re really doing, and they cannot acknowledge literally anything that’s happening.

basically, there’s a very short list of rules (restrictions on freedom) in The Rivalry Game, and it goes like this:

1) You have to pretend you’re not playing the game.

2) Neither Akira nor Akechi can win (because Shido is always winning so long as he controls Akechi), but the loser still dies.

Therefore, because there’s no win condition, either you keep playing, or one of them dies.

*

they’re gay, harold

one more game, for the record:

if you have eyeballs, you may have noticed that akechi is basically taking akira out on dates. (which, imo, is a refreshing change from the fact that akira spends most of the game taking other people out on dates.)

like, it’s kind of the most forward and aggressive dating protocol I’ve ever seen, but it is basically dating protocol. you get the guy’s number. you take a few days to call. you arrange a first date doing something fun and neutral. say nice things about them. try not to scare them off with being a fucking psycho. also, you save all the sad backstory shit for the third or fourth date, which is… quite literally what akechi did.

dating is in itself a type of game with all sorts of rules. don’t call them too quickly or you look desperate. don’t sleep with them on the first date or you look easy. don’t be clingy. don’t be jealous. don’t ghost them for weeks on end. on and on and on.

however, it’s in the nature of queer people dating in a conservative country that you’ve also got a few additional rules to the dating regimen, which requires queer people dating to exist in a sort of limbo where they pretend they’re just very good friends, or they’re rivals, or they’re detectives and thieves, or literally anything else but queer, in order to have plausible deniability.

essentially, the one rule becomes:

1) You have to pretend you’re not playing the game.

there’s an entirely plausible argument that firstly, the relationship is queercoded not only because of blatant flirting (which they do) or akira’s madoka bullshit in the third trimester, but because the nature of their “don’t ask, don’t tell” game rules replicates closeted queer experience. secondly, akira and akechi operate in the way that they do because same-sex attraction easily fits in with all the other things they’re pretending they’re not doing. if akechi never accuses akira of being a phantom thief, then akira can exist in schrodinger’s criminality and nobody gets fucked over by consequences. and if akira never accuses akechi of being attracted to him, then akechi can exist in schrodinger’s closet, and nobody has to run away or end The “Rival” Game.

*

billiards as a metaphor for my trauma but also just kidding. unless…?

keep in mind the preceding points: that the rules state that akechi and akira must pretend they’re not playing a variety of games, that akechi is good at repurposing game rules by bending them, and the fact that games are, actually, supposed to be fun rather than oppressively restrictive.

akechi’s mistake is that he starts using the rules of the game to communicate. this is particularly obvious in the first billiards scene, because he might have started off as using billiards as a way to break the ice and have a neutral activity to do while he gets to know akira, but billiards quickly becomes his way of picking akira’s brain and also intimidating akira. akechi applies a further handicap (a self-imposed rule for fun, is what I’m saying) to restrict his own freedom and use his non-dominant hand, communicating that he’s so good at billiards that he doesn’t need to face akira seriously, that he’s confident enough to win without it, that he doesn’t want to destroy akira so bad that akira will no longer hang out with him, that he wants akira to know that he’s stronger and better than him. not to meme, but he’s literally asserting dominance through a game of pool, because akechi is a nerd who wears argyle unironically. either way, it’s meant to assert himself as someone in control and in a position of strength. he’s pretty conscientious about heading off people who might assume he’s unintelligent or weak, like warning away people who might try to take advantage of him.

then a very clever thing happens, which is that akira bends the rules back: although he lost the billiards game, he points out that he noticed akechi is a leftie, letting akechi know that akechi might be better at billiards, but that doesn’t mean akira will let akechi push him around.

from here on out, they’ve established their MO for the rest of the relationship, and akira and akechi communicate primarily through actions, competition, games, and unspoken rules. this in itself becomes a sort of game, trying to speak to each other through the incredibly oppressive handicaps on what akechi and akira are and aren’t at liberty to say.

billiards becomes a metaphor because akechi isn’t at liberty to actually talk about shido. eating cake at a café becomes a reflection on interpersonal relationships and their difficulties, without ever saying so. the public baths scene is definitely not about relaxation. also, if akechi and akira are less than platonic, that’s not a problem, because the entire point of this exercise is that they can maintain plausible deniability. actually they were just talking about billiards. it really is just cake. just two dudes in a bathtub together, five feet apart cuz theyre not gay.

what happens over the course of the social link is that, although they’re still playing a wide variety of different games, the “win condition” of the unspoken rules becomes literally just talking to each other.

the goal becomes to spend time with each other, to understand each other, to become closer to each other despite all the restrictions in the way. after all, they’re so very similar, and both akira and akechi understand that they cannot be too direct. akira will play by the rules that you can’t talk about the game.

other social links have a goal of resolving someone’s personal narrative and growth, or getting some asshole to stop fucking over the social link in question. akechi’s social link operates more like a dating game, where the objective is simply to get to know each other. instead of the social link being about the social link changing for the better because of akira, akechi’s social link is about akechi and akira slowly sharing who they are to each other while pretending they aren’t doing what they’re doing.

what happens here is that a game in which akira and akechi both have their freedom restricted to the point of pain turns back into a point of fun for both of them, and a point of connection. it becomes something that brings them both joy and makes them less alone, even though on the surface, it seems like they’re talking about cake and the weather. the very rules that were isolating and oppressing them become a way they relate to each other.

in other words, they’re making a really good thing out of what’s basically a terrible situation.

like akechi mentions, they’re both victims of shitty adults, and they both have things they can and cannot do, but, somehow, impossibly, they’re manage to find a good thing despite all their restrictions. no, not even despite their restrictions—they’re making a good thing out of their restrictions by repurposing the things they can’t say and do into something that communicates meaning.

(this is also another reason why i think it’s so cute that in the bad end, akechi and akira are seen playing chess together--yet another game and competition, but the point of the game now is obviously just to spend time with each other, as they’ve always done over the course of their social link.)

this in particular is why the jazz thing is so important. jazz has rules. you have to play a particular instrument, for one. also, music might be improv, but music itself sounds good when it’s following a rhythm, when the notes are played in tune and in harmony, and replicate a pattern that’s pleasing to the human ear. music in itself has a set of rules and, for that matter, a lot of things you can’t do, primarily based on what sounds fucking awful.

what jazz does not have is a win condition of a traditional kind. jazz is not a game where you play against someone. jazz improv is a game where you play with someone, and you create something together—something that’s spontaneous, unpredictable, and a product of your teamwork and communication. the win condition is to enjoy each other and to have fun.

akechi starts his social link off extremely aggressively, with his emphasis on one person defeating another and the winner saving face. by the time we get to the jazz scene, he’s rethinking the nature of what it means to play a game with someone—that perhaps games can again be played for the sake of happiness with someone you enjoy spending time with, instead of a set of constricting rules that tie you down as you crawl towards an impossible win condition.

*

I SAID they’re fucking GAY, harold

overall, if anyone ever tells you that you’re reading too deeply into shuake, I’d like to say for the record that akechi expects and relies on akira to read too deeply into what akechi is saying, because akechi is not at liberty to speak freely.

akechi is constantly asking strange and pointed questions that don’t seem to connect to the explicit text or the train of thought he was following. he goes from talking about jazz to talking about akira, from talking about relaxation to his mother. when he asks why akira is interested in fighting him, he seems disappointed when akira says there’s no reason, because akechi is not actually asking about billiards. akechi is doing the equivalent of slipping shido’s censorship via maintaining plausible deniability that he’s talking about anything other than billiards.

he’s expecting you to know the rules. you are absolutely supposed to read into it. you are supposed to play according to the same rules that he is.

and in fact, communication and connection breaks down if you don’t follow the rules. akira’s dialogue responses are either painfully obtuse, throwing akechi off balance, or right on the money of the subtext akechi is putting down, which appears to surprise and delight him that he’s being understood for what he’s saying. akira ceasing to follow akechi’s subtext becomes a hindrance in their communication. he has to continue to follow the rules or else the communication gets jammed up. ironically, the very thing that’s supposedly limiting communication is in fact now the thing that ensure it can happen at all.

the best example i have for you is the dating game, especially so because akechi is definitely following a lot of dating game rules. if you’ve ever heard the phrase “that’s third date material,” that’s referring to an unspoken rule. if you get to the third date and start talking about something heavy like that, that in itself is communicating that you’re serious about the relationship--serious enough to wait for the third date, to follow the rules. the entire reason why so many of us lambasted akechi for asking for akira’s number two minutes after they met for the first time is because akechi bent that rule so hard it almost broke--the rule that you’re not supposed to seem too forward in case of communicating desperation--and this in itself communicates something.

well. this is a very longwinded way of explaining something that i think all of us know already about social interactions. It Means Something To Type Like This; it means something when you call a teacher by their first name; it means something if you show up to an office job in flip-flops; it means something when a woman wears a tuxedo and a man wears a dress. meaning is created by interacting with social rules, being creative with what you can and can’t do, and being clever with things you’re not supposed to do.

what i’m getting at is the things that you don’t say, and the ways that you interact with the rules themselves, generate meaning and communication. the rules of the game, for example, say that akechi is supposed to be investigating akira because akira is a phantom thief; but when akechi starts talking about his dead mother, his bending the rules of what he can and can’t do communicates that he’s not just here for an investigation anymore. 

*

about akechi throwing his fucking glove at akira instead of talking about their feelings like his name is miles edgeworth (and then akira carrying that glove around in his pocket for almost four months like his name is phoenix wright)

home stretch, lads!

I proposed that the jazz scene is a shift in how akechi thinks about games and competition. from thereon, when akechi says that they’re rivals, he means that their competitions are a point of connection for them, instead of rivalry referring to the fact that akechi will one day shoot akira in the forehead.

this shift is what makes it so that we know that akechi is not seeking to antagonize akira in the rank 8 scene, where they fight 1v1. akechi asks him not to hold back anymore because that’s, again, how they can be honest under a guise of plausible deniability that this is really just a persona fight.

the fight doesn’t go according to akechi’s expectations. he loses, if you didn’t know. and akira is apparently stronger than akechi expected. (but that’s how it goes during improv. and since akechi was not fighting to necessarily win, and the point of the exercise was instead to communicate with each other, this doesn’t matter.)

akechi gives akira the glove as a promise to duel again. despite the fact that akechi says that he’ll win, the glove itself does not represent akechi’s desire to win. the glove is a challenge and an invitation simultaneously. the glove is a way of saying, I want to play again with you someday.

and then I made myself super sad just writing that last sentence, so please press F for me and my goroboy clown ass before we go on. thanks.

the glove isn’t just a promise to duel akechi sometime in the near future, but a promise that akira and akechi will be able to communicate and be as emotionally intimate as they have been over the course of the social link again one day—that part specifically, I think, is part of the reason why akira’s still carrying the goddamn thing on 3/19.

again, consider the bad ending screenshot of akira and akechi playing chess with that huge lovestruck smile on akechi’s face. akira’s wish wasn’t just akechi coming back from the dead, but for them to be fulfill the glove’s promise of being together, knowing each other, and working together to make their own happiness through competition.

so I guess. in conclusion. tldr. both of these boys are in a prison made of oppressive rules they can’t break. and they found joy in each other throughout it all.

thanks for coming to my ted talk.

hang on I have to make a post about akechi and games

[ecotone99]

[MF] Is There a Balm in Gilead?

He was waiting urgently in the hall when they found him, he had worked himself out of his bed and fumbled on two unsteady feet through the door. He stood pressed against the wall arms outstretched below his waist as if he stood on the brink of some precipice. That's when they arrived with the wheelchair to take him home. His eyes jittered in his head and spittle dribbled down his white stubbled chin. He was ready, for two months he had been ready, wasting away in that bed like a sack of shit, now he would be free. He would feel the warmth of the sunlight on his shoulders as they wheeled him out those sliding glass doors, his son would pick him up from the ramp, and that would be that. He'd be hedding home. The nurses wore baby blue scrubs and plastic masks; their heads were wrapped like cafeteria employees. They stank of exhaustion and sanitation alcohol. Between the two of them the wheelchair bobbled up and down on old, uneasy wheels. The one on the right engaged the break.

"Mr. Hendly, you know you should not be out of your room."

"I'm ready he said." "It's unsafe Mr. Hendly, you should know better, you could have fallen an broken your head.." "I'm ready take me home, I called my son he's commin, take me home." "Well alright Mr. Hendly, just come on over to the wheelchair and we'll be on our way." "No." He said. "I wanna walk." More of a croak really. " I'm sorry, sir," he held out his hands to help him into the parked chair, " we can't allow that." " No. I wanna walk. I wanna-" he stumbled and caught himself on the wall " I'm goin' to, my son is commin' for me." "Mr. Hendly," he said "we cannot let you walk, it's hospital policy." "Damn policy." "Can you come over to the chair? Mr. Hendly please?" He made a few feeble efforts before they intervened, one held the chair, the other held his elbows. He clenched his fists and curled his wrists and like an infant brought his arms closer to his body. He slid into the chair. The wheel chair began to move and they were on the way. He hunched in the chair like a constipated toad. The white hallways wheeled by as he wobbled past the dying and the newborn. They all stank of disinfectant and death, but he was free. No more sponge baths, no more hospital meals, no more of that, his son would come and take him away. His room he fixed again and again running it through his mind, he'd put this here and that there, he would get himself out of bed, his sons new wife would make him breakfast, lunch, and dinner, homemade meals hot and soft so he could chew it. The ceiling lights bleared through the linoleum floor, blurred ghosts milled around like coy in s pond, going from here to there and around again, the old the young, the new born dead and dying, all the same. He wasn't one of them he was going haome, that's all that mattered. When his son was a young boy he took him to the golf course, his son didn't care and doesn't remember it. Well, that's how I seemed when he brought it up when he visited several moths ago. He'd seen him once since he'd been diagnosed, but he was picking him up now. It would be fine.

They wheeled past the receptionist with dark bags under her eyes and several months worth of Cinnabon beneath her chin. She had another on her desk that she was about to add to her collection. She had on faded pink scrubs that may have been cute where they several years and many wash cycles younger. They were speckled with pathetic puke-green flowers with five faded petals an a poor choice of blue at their centers. The junxstapotion of her outfit with her the Cinnabon collection was divine.

He grumbled a jocular grumble as he passed and spittle dribbled from his lips in a pendulum fashion. The wheel squeaked round and round, round and round. The nurses didn't say anything, they really didn't have anything to say, all attempts at sociability had been exhausted on a sixty year old lady with a metal hip who kept complaining about her neighbor behind the screen, and her neighbor who kept complaining about the loud woman with a metal hip. And the wheels squeaked round and round and round and round. If you have ever been to a hospital you know that the hallways are long and labrythian. Signs on the walls point to indefinite locations and hidden floors and the convex mirrors in the corners are portals into eternal plodding passageways bustling with the new born and the dying. A whole managerie, a complete portrait of life. The stone circles of modern day where druids in scrubs deliver the young and escort the old to their final waking destinations. If you have ever been lost in a hospital you would know the feeling of hopelessness as you wander down impossibly long corridors, up and down elevators that don’t access every floor, and end up in the place you started or in some place far from where you intended to be. You would understand the feeling of being hopelessly lost in the belly of a sprawling beast that runs on the very life of humanity. Mr Hendly did not quite feel hopeless, but he did feel hopelessly small, he would never admit it of course but he had no idea where he was. He couldn’t remember how he got here exactly, not just what passageways led to his room, or what unit he was on, but how the fuck had he got HERE? He remembered his wife, or at least having a wife. He couldn’t tell you what the color of her hair was or the smell of her perfume, but he could tell you that she was kind. He didn’t know why, or how they were related, but he had a faint feeling of disgust for hospitals and the staff. Something about a tired looking old doctor with a few strands of white hair looking down at him as he held his wife’s hand, he remembered that much.

“Susan” he muttered, spittle dribbling from his lips.

“I’m sorry sir?” The nurse walking beside him asked.

“Where’s Susan?” He asked “I want to see her, tell my son to bring Susan, I want to see her, I...” his voice drifted of as he thought about the tired looking doctor with strands of white hair and thin circular silver rimmed spectacles.

“There’s no one named Susan listed in your direct contacts Mr Hendly.” The other nurse said, perhaps it was just exhaustion, but the nurse’s voice sounded slightly exasperated, as if he had been asked this question before. A lot.

“Fuck you. Get Susan.” Mr Hendly grumbled. “You know my son is on the way, he told me he was going to pick me up. He... he told me when... I believe it was two moths ago when he came to visit. He promised.”

“Whatever you say sir.” The first nurse responded.

His wheelchair creaked as the wheels turned round and round down long distended corridors that twisted and and coiled like the intestines of behemoth. Mr Hendly chuckled to himself as they passed a room with an open door, from inside he could hear some old lady complaining about her metal hip, and her neighbor telling her to shut the fuck up because she was dying of cancer.

Cancer.

“Fucking cancer.” Mr Hendly chuckled to himself “ ‘s always cancer.”

He had a vivid image of the tired looking doctor in silver rimmed spectacles. His lips kept moving, it’s cancer, it’s cancer, it’s cancer.

“It’s cancer!” He screamed.

“Mr Hendly please calm down.” The first nurse said in the most reassuring tone he could muster putting a hand in Mr Hendlys shoulder.

“You don’t have cancer Sir.” The second nurse added.

“ The fuck I don’t, where’s Susan?” Mr Hendly grumbled.

“Now Mr. Hendly there is no need for that kind of language.” The first nurse chided, and I don’t know who Susan is.

“Where’s is Susan I have to see her, where’s my son? I need to see him I need to tell him his mother is dead I need...”

“It’s going to be ok Sir we are almost there” the second nurse pushing the wheelchair said behind him.

The wheelchair squeaked outside into the the warm golden sunlight. His shoulders felt warm and welcomed the warm sunlight.

“I’m going home, I’m free.” He grumbled

Cars passed by patients came and went. Mr Hendly looked up and down the parking lot, up and down the adjacent street looking for the black Chevy that would take him home. A white bus pulled up driven by a young man in a blue uniform.

“Where’s my son?”

“Here’s your ride Mr Hendly.”

“The fuck you mean? Where’s my son, fuck you bastards! Where’s my son he fuckin promised! Where’s Susan she wouldn’t let this happen. Susan!”

“Calm down Mr Hendly you will be back home soon.”

The bright fluorescent light blinded him as he slowly drooled down his chest. The old lady’s at the table next to his cackled and argued over their game of bridge. He sat in his chair as the white fluorescent lights ached his shoulders and made him cold.

“He promised he’d take me home.” He whispered as he watched a young man and his wife visit what he could only assume was the mans old mother.

“He promised he’d come, he told me he’d come.”

A young nurse walked up and bent down looking him in the eyes, she put her hands on her knees and altered her voice as if speaking to a child.

“It’s time for your nap Mr Hendly”

“ I don’t want a fucking nap I want to go home.” He grumbled.

She pulled the break on his wheelchair and started to push him down the hallway towards his room. The fluorescent lights pressed down from above as the wheels creaked round and round below.

“I want to go home.” He whispered, “I want Susan.”

The nurse made no reply as she pushed him down the hallway.

“My son is coming to pick me up, haven’t I told you? He promised. He’s coming today I believe, he’ll be here you’ll see.”

“Your just tired Mr Hendly.” The nurse said in her best reassuring voice.

“He’s coming. You’ll see.” He said as she turned him into his room. His voice seemed to echo down the hallways in a soft breathy whisper:

“He’s coming. You’ll see.”

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