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#I took like 7 inches off my hair last year by just chopping it off with scissors in my bathroom
teamahwol · 2 years
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okay but what if I cut my own hair off again
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pumpumdemsugah · 10 months
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I've never been scared for cutting a lot of inches but never enough to take me from having long to short hair. Tbh I wish I took off more when I chopped most of my hair off 2 years ago. Right now I don't have the desire to have it that short but in the future, I'll definitely go really short and see what my head shape is like
As fucked up many of us ( black women ) are about hair, we're not scared to cut alot of hair or become bald.
The reason I cut my hair is I literally couldn't handle it because I was temporarily mad and in pain and couldn't handle long hair. I'm surprised by how quickly it grew back but it's nice to feel like I can always just do that
It was a shame that it was during the worst of COVID and not many people had a chance to see me with cute little curly fro. The last time my hair was that short was because I was little and my head and body was smaller
Having 7 inches of hair is short FOR ME! lol and I went back and cut another inch or two. I went from waist length, so please allow me
I don't have many pictures of my hair like this because again, she was crazy and falling asleep at 8am to 4pm then crying because I didn't see the sun for very long
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vhsrights · 4 years
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Ever since I saw them posts about JJ have short hair??? Like a pixie cut??? Wanna do me a solid and tell me your thoughts on Emily’s first (and maybe subsequent) reaction when JJ walks into the bullpen? Assuming they’re not together already.
OH OH BRILLIANT THOUGHT WHILE IM WRITING THIS: JJ with short hair AND a leather jacket. I feel like PG definitely had a hand in this new change in JJ...
for sure i gotchu! :) this was one that i have been wanting to do for a while. (edit: so i know that you only asked for my thoughts but i got really excited and into it so i turned it into an OS) <3
Dashing
Pairing: Pre Jemily - talked about
WC: 4.8k words
Summary: JJ with short hair, and what it does to Emily :) [bullpen and team night out version; pre jemily] (like a prelude to gnc jj)
It happened on a Thursday afternoon. JJ had been shaking all day, but Penelope had convinced her that it would be okay. The blonde locks that she had been identified with for so long felt even heavier against her shoulders. She made sure to stay hidden away in her office, thanking her lucky stars that they were off case rotation. Her fingers consistently found themselves back into her hair, twisting and twirling them relentlessly. If JJ could have simply willed her long hair away, she would have. She restlessly twirled the pen in her hand for several hours, making little headway on the mountain of files by her. Her eyes kept darting over to the screen of her computer monitor, feverishly checking and rechecking the time.
5:45 pm. That was when the appointment was set for. JJ wished that she would be able to simply forget about it until then. Maybe if she did, she would actually get more work done. She texted Penelope, who was out for coffee on a break, to get her some too. Soon after she got the caffeine, JJ was able to shut out the rest of her thoughts. The boost alone drove her to finish files at triple her previous rate. Maybe that was also the adrenaline. Her phone broke her trance-like consciousness when it began to beep incessantly. She had set an alarm to go off 45 minutes before her appointment, enough time for her to wrap up at the office and calm her nerves before she made the short 10-minute drive to the barbershop.
Feeling her heart pound harder in her chest, JJ sat back in her chair to ground herself. She decided that getting up before she had a grip on her emotions was not a good idea. JJ let her eyes close gently and her mind began to wander. In her head, JJ saw the faces of those that she had met as this version of herself. They had all changed her, for better or for worse, and the memories began to flow in. It started with her mother and father. They had given a life that she couldn’t have been more appreciative of in the early years, forgoing the memories of harsh words and other negative acts. Moving on quickly, the next face flashed before her eyes. Roslyn.
Her sister had been her saving grace before JJ could even comprehend the idea. JJ had always looked up to the girl. Roslyn was phenomenal and JJ could only imagine how far she would have made it if she had still been alive. Roslyn was the one that had taught JJ how to braid her hair, wash it, and even curl it. Roslyn had curled her long blonde hair for the first time when she watched her get ready for the homecoming dance. It had only been one clump of strands but the way that her sister had so gently handled her locks left JJ in awe of Roslyn’s caring nature. After Roslyn left, JJ held onto her hairstyle, scared to let go of it as it sometimes felt like her only tie to her older sister.
Her college best friends, partners in the Academy, Hotch, Reid, Rossi, and so many more came and left in her thoughts. It was like her thoughts were forming their own little presentation of what JJ was getting rid of today. Some had more important roles than others but she had to remind herself that today wasn’t getting rid of anything but her hair. She was still JJ, but this felt more real. She wouldn’t have to avert her eyes in the mirror as much, and it would help to match her appearance more closely to how she felt inside.
Eventually, her mind came to the inevitable. Emily. Emily was something to JJ that she couldn’t describe. JJ loved Emily, but it wasn’t just that. Over time, as she had gotten to know the woman, JJ had come to truly understand her. It was the kind of intimacy that relied on the briefest of eye contact, all thoughts conveyed in body language alone. She couldn’t tell Emily though. It was too risky, and no matter how bold JJ was, Emily was a whole new world. She pushed away the thought that Emily would hate her haircut. If Emily rejected the haircut, it would feel more like she rejected who JJ truly was. But she would never do that. Right?
No, Emily would never do that. She couldn’t, because then JJ didn’t know what she’d do. Trying to distract herself from the increasing anxiety, she tried to remember their Girl’s Nights and separate hangouts where Emily would mindlessly run her fingers through JJ’s hair. It was how she calmed JJ, and the experience itself felt like home to the blonde. Glancing down at her watch, JJ realized that she got a bit too tied up with her imagination and saw that it was 5:25. Grabbing her things in a frenzy, JJ quickly headed out of the bullpen. She caught a glance of Morgan, eyebrows raised in bewilderment. JJ waved the team off, not slowing down on her way to the elevator. Hotch already knew that she was taking the early day so she was set.
JJ shot a text off to Garcia before driving off, telling her to check her office for anything that JJ might have forgotten and that she was going to her apartment after the haircut. Throwing her phone into the passenger seat, JJ drummed her fingers against the steering as she pulled out of the parking lot. She drove to the barbershop and reached in 7 minutes. Emily and her crazy driving skills would have been proud. Exiting the door rather quickly, JJ ran her fingers through her hair one last time.
This was goodbye.
She fidgeted with her fingers the entire time she waited for her appointment. JJ rocked her body gently, forward and backward, grounding herself in the steady rhythm. After some time, a person wearing a short-sleeved, cuffed button-down and a large black apron approached her. Their hair was cropped short, the sides shaved to a small length to let the top flow over their forehead. It was perfectly what JJ wanted. She felt her face grow hot at the realization that this was actually happening. JJ was going to do the big chop.
“Hi, Welcome to the Queer Barbers’ Guild. My name is Tay and I can help you today. JJ, isn’t it?” Tay held out their hand as JJ stood up, initiating their quick handshake.
“Uh, yeah. I had said over the phone that I wanted to cut most of my hair off. Actually, I would like exactly what you have. If that works?” JJ took quick strides to keep up with the barber, hearing the bustle of the shop as they got closer to the chair.
Tay chuckled, nodded, and gestured for JJ to sit in the seat. They pumped up its height, adjusting it to their work position. She sat down eagerly, feeling energized as the moment of the cut drew nearer.
“So are you looking to do a wash first today? I can definitely do my cut on you, so it’s just whatever you want. I would have to say though, I think you’re going to look rather dashing.” JJ blushed and failed to respond.
Dashing. Not pretty.
“I haven’t washed my hair in a few days for this haircut, so that would be nice. Thank you.”
JJ sat back in the chair and let Tay drape the apron cover over her. They combed through her hair slowly, getting tassels out and examining it for the cut. Once it was all brushed out, they measured out lengths and showed them to JJ in the mirror. JJ soon came to an idea of what she wanted.
Tay led her out of the chair and over the washing room. She sat down and made herself comfortable. JJ tried to solidify those last few moments in her head as the last memories she had with her long hard. The warm water began to run over her scalp and she forgot what else was running through her head. Before she knew it, the wash was over and she was back in the hair cut chair.
Now was the time.
They dried her hair and combed through it again. JJ closed her eyes. She was scared of what would happen. What if it wasn’t right? How would she undo the damage? She then felt a chilled glass against her fingers. Slowly peeking one eye open, she spotted some kind of alcohol in Tay’s outstretched hand. Curious, JJ looked up at the barber.
“To calm your nerves. Don’t worry, I’ve done plenty of these chops myself and I had my own. Trust me, things are only going to get better from here. So, here’s to relaxing. You earned it.”
“Thank you. Really, thank you.” JJ couldn’t explain her gratitude as she took the glass.
Maybe everything would be okay.
JJ relaxed and Tay began to gather her hair for the big chop. Tay carefully sectioned her hair, making sure to constantly check the length. Then, the time came. Tay lightly tapped her on the shoulder, indicating that they had the scissors at the ready. All they needed was the go-ahead from JJ. The blonde took in one last deep breath, giving them permission on her exhale.
The first cut was the most jarring. JJ could feel the hair being cut, its strands tugging at the sharp shears. She let out a gasp and everything happened too quickly for her to process after that. The hair fell left and right, leaving her head feeling instantly lighter and freer.
Tay worked incredibly efficiently. They managed to keep checking in with JJ as they deftly cut her hair. Soon, it was gone. The buzz of the razor sent a jolt up JJ’s spine but Tay quickly reassured her. They made light passes and cut down the hair on the sides and back. It was still nearly half an inch long, but that was exactly what JJ wanted.
“There you go. All done, JJ. What do you think?” Their voice cut through the haze of JJ’s thoughts and she turned her head, examining her new look.
The long hair was gone.
JJ had short hair now. It felt like a high, like one she’d never felt before but would never let up again. She ran her fingers through it, marveling at the softness and sleek nature of the look. She looked pretty fucking dashing. JJ turned around and looked at Tay, struggling to keep her tears at bay. She shouldn’t be on the verge of crying. JJ chastised herself internally.
“I- I don’t really have the words to thank you right now. I know that I shouldn’t be so emotional over a haircut, but you made everything perfect.” JJ held her head down, trying to hold back the tears.
“Of course. It’s no problem. For the emotions, believe me, I was a sobbing mess when I got my first big chop. You can always ask for me when you come to the Guild. Thanks for coming, and we can go up to the front for payment now.”
JJ paid and left the establishment. She was still dazed, not sure if everything was real. Her fingers found their way back into her hair several times, simply running through it as she made her way to the car. Her watch showed 7:03 pm as the time and JJ pulled out her phone. Her fingers quivered as she typed out her text to Penelope. She didn’t want to text her friend a picture of herself, deciding to keep the hair a surprise until she arrived at Penelope’s apartment.
Jayje (7:03 PM): Got the haircut. Pen this feels fucking crazy. I almost cried in the shop because of how nice my barber was and how I look. Heading over now.
PG (7:03 PM): AHHHH im so excited for you!! i already know that you look hot as fuck babes.
JJ smiled and set her stuff aside. She was off to Penelope’s apartment. The analyst had told her that she had a surprise for her.
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JJ pulled up to the analyst’s apartment. The sun was still high in the sky outside, and she could hear the chirp of several little birds off in the distance. Penelope was waiting for her. Taking one last deep breath, JJ walked towards the front door. It was part of a little archway to a quaint apartment but it could have been the door to the White House with how nervous JJ was.
She shivered as she rang the doorbell. Here goes nothing. Reaction number one, how bad can it be? Penelope had already been anticipating JJ’s arrival so the door flew open mere seconds later. She appeared in the doorway, beaming with energy. Then she laid her eyes on JJ.
“OH. MY. GOD. JAYJE. YOU LOOK AMAZING.” Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the sight of JJ.
Penelope dragged JJ into the apartment faster than the blonde could respond to her statement. She was bubbling with excitement, super ready to give JJ her present. Penelope began to give a preface before they reached her couch. On it, sat a medium-sized silver bag. Tissue was popping out of the top and JJ was drawn to it. Penelope noticed her eyes on the present.
“Go ahead. Open it. I got it for you because I think it definitely matches your new vibe and that you ARE wearing it to team drinks tomorrow. Emily won’t be able to take her eyes off of you!”
JJ paused.
“What does Emily have to do with this?” She looked back at Penelope, her forehead scrunched in confusion.
“You’re joking, right? You can’t seriously ignore the tension between you two. It’s Miss Darking and Brooding and The Badass Baby Blonde. You two are a power couple! Unless, you aren’t madly in love with her and would be fine with me setting her up with this other friend of mine…”
“Okay, okay. No setting Emily up with your friend. She’s mine, thank you very much.” JJ spoke confidently, knowing that Penelope could see right through her bravado.
“I’m sure she is. That’s why you asked her out. Oh, wait…”
“Fine, so I haven’t asked her out. I’m just terrified. She’s Emily.”
“Yeah, and you’re JJ. Plus, now you have that super butch look so you can ask her out tomorrow. But not until you open the gift!” Penelope pointed at the glossy bag once more.
JJ rolled her eyes and turned back to the bag. She slowly pulled out the tissue and spotted dark fabric underneath it. Reaching inside, it was cool to the touch. JJ pulled out a black, leather jacket. It was sleek with 4 zippers, 2 collar buttons, and seams that traced around the jacket.
JJ thumbed it and fell more and more in love with it as she took in the jacket more. It was perfect. This jacket, combined with the haircut and the way that Tay complimented her earlier, felt like an amalgamation of the person that she was supposed to be. JJ wasn’t the girl that hid behind her femininity and used it as a weapon to get her way. In fact, her femininity did more against her than it did for her. Pushing that thought out of her head, JJ turned to Penelope.
With tears in her eyes, she hugged Penelope. She hugged her with all her might. She couldn’t describe the feeling in her head. Later, she would come to find out that it was gender euphoria. But in that moment, every positive emotion felt weak in comparison to the explosion of happiness in her mind.
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JJ had opted for her pantsuit for work on Friday. Her normal skirt suits just didn’t fit who she saw herself as in the moment. Whether that would change or not, she didn’t know. It felt powerful, and with her hair coiffed up, JJ was unstoppable.
The elevator doors dinged open and she hesitantly took her first step. The big glass doors of the BAU seemed daunting now, and it made JJ feel small. She felt insignificant and her breath partially caught in her throat. Looking over at her watch, JJ realized that she was almost late. Deciding that the time to wait was over, JJ took confident strides forward. She pushed the doors open and made her way to her office until something stopped her.
Derek’s voice boomed out in front of her. Reid and the rest of the BAU men were sitting at his desk and their eyes lifted up to meet hers. It took all of JJ’s strength not to turn on her heel and bolt. But she loved this haircut, and it made her confident; so she had to act like it. Slowing up her stride, she detoured over to the group. Derek had called out to her, commenting on the haircut.
All of them were genuinely curious, stating their approval multiple times. JJ even got a fistbump from Derek and a wide smile from Spencer. Hotch’s usual morose expression lightened up. They talked about how she had wanted to get it, the differences from long hair, and the overall confidence boost. It was invigorating. More than anything else, JJ felt her heart swell at the sheer support from her teammates. They joked about her being one of the guys; and though right now it was short hair, JJ could feel that it was just the tip of the iceberg.
They eventually got to the topic of where she cut it and JJ casually mentioned the barbershop. At that, Derek’s eyes lit up. He was always one to preach the benefits of a barbershop, offering the argument that it was a place that created a sense of family. He asked if it had been The Queer Barber’s Guild, to which JJ had nodded her head. His interest peaked, Derek asked if it had been Penelope’s recommendation. To that, JJ nodded enthusiastically again.
“Yeah, she’s always loved that place. Babygirl got me hooked on it too, right after I came out. They’ve got some really cool bi stuff in there. Who did you have? Was it Tay? They’re my bro, and a top notch barber.”
“I did have them. They made things so easy. I’m definitely only going there from now on.”
JJ and the group carried on their conversation for a little longer when she heard a squeal behind her. She turned partially to see Penelope clacking over in her yellow heels. She had a huge smile plastered on her face, and was obviously excited for JJ.
“Jayje! You look even better today than you did yesterday! So what’s going on, are we talking about the QBG because, my god, do I love that place!”
Everyone giggled and they continued the conversation. Penelope watched as JJ’s eyes shifted around the bullpen ever so slightly. Of course. JJ was looking for the only missing member, arguably her favorite one. Emily. Penelope held back her laugh yet could help but to smile at the blonde’s little search. She leaned in close to JJ and tapped her on the shoulder.
“She’s in the break room.” JJ tried to fake obliviousness, but she knew that she’d been caught.
“Thanks PG.”
Casually excusing herself from the conversation, JJ left on the behest of “files that she needed to tend to”. She didn’t care if anyone bought the excuse. In her mind, the only place for her to go was the break room. JJ wanted to show Emily the “new her”. Of course, it wasn’t new, but she felt different. Trying not to give things much more thought, JJ arrived at the break room with a quick pace.
She noticed Emily at the coffee counter, stirring her mug. JJ was overcome with something at the sight of Emily. Not even thinking, she leaned against the doorframe and called out to the brunette.
“Got enough for another cup?” Her voice was nonchalant but her heart was pounding in her chest.
Emily perked up at the sound but didn’t turn around. She finished stirring her coffee and began turning around before starting to speak.
“Jen! Oh, shoot, I just used the last of it for my cup.” Emily spoke cheerily as she brought the mug to her lips.
Then her eyes landed on JJ.
Emily completely froze, nearly choking on her coffee. Her eyes widened as they took in her friend’s new look. JJ looked hot. There was a pervading silence between them, but neither could break their trance for long enough to say something. Emily looked over the short hair on JJ’s head, inspecting it almost. She noticed how it’s varied length set off the blonde’s angular features. Emily could almost feel her knees go weak but held it together.
Neither knew nor cared to time how long they stayed like that. It somehow hadn’t reached the point of awkwardness, but both JJ and Emily’s minds were overactive. At some point, JJ managed to point back at the coffee pot. Emily jolted up and moved to the side, breaking her haze. Her gaze instead landed on their best friend in the distance, who was giving her a very enthusiastic thumbs up. Penelope Garcia really was something.
Emily rolled her eyes and turned back to JJ. She was setting things up for a new pot of coffee and the brunette couldn’t help but to watch her intently.
“So, uh, Jen. The haircut. You look amazing. It really suits you.”
“Thanks, Em. I just got it yesterday and I already feel like a whole new person. It’s a bit strange, but honestly, I love it.”
Emily smiled dopily, attempting to hide her grin behind her sips of coffee. They spoke for a little longer before the coffee was nearly done brewing. The small talk was comfortable, though not the kind of conversations they usually had. It was workplace appropriate because that was what JJ and Emily were, colleagues.
“Okay, I’m gonna head back to my desk. I’ll see you at team drinks tonight?” Emily patted JJ’s arm and turned to leave.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” JJ blushed and the two ignored the giddiness they felt.
After leaving the break room, Emily made her way to Penelope’s lair instead. She definitely had some thoughts about JJ’s new look.
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Hotch, Reid, and Rossi were the first to arrive. They were known for their punctuality. The bar wasn’t crowded just yet, the Friday night crowd was beginning to flow in. They had all changed into more casual wear, except for Rossi. The men made small talk until Derek and Emily drove in nearly 15 minutes later. They had hung out before and just decided to ride in together.
Emily and Derek’s arrival immediately added more pizzazz to the event, spurring them to order the first round of drinks. Things were lively after a crushing week at work and the BAU was ready to let loose. Not long after Emily had placed their drinks order, JJ and Penelope arrived.
JJ was wearing a white Tshirt, ripped black jeans, vans, and most importantly the leather jacket. She drowned out any thoughts of doubt with the idea that this was her family and that soon they would be intoxicated enough to simply not care. She trailed slightly behind Penelope’s eager steps but they eventually reached the table. Hotch spotted her first. He gave her an approving nod, a barely noticeable smile gracing his expression.
Emily spotted her next. Before she could stop herself, Emily’s breath caught in her throat and she gasped. JJ had left her speechless for the second time that day. Her gaze passed over every part of JJ’s outfit. She felt her face get hot and Emily shoved her hands in her pockets. By that point, JJ and Penelope had joined the group at their table but Emily had yet to say a word.
“Wow, Jen, you look amazing. That leather jacket is perfect. It’s a very hot look, but also very you.” Emily couldn’t help her awkwardness but the compliments just kept going. She couldn’t find a way to stop herself.
JJ's thoughts staggered with the compliments but she was able to thank Emily. Penelope simply watched the entire interaction with a smirk plastered on her face. After that, the alcohol took no time in arriving at their tables. They all downed those drinks quickly and went after another round. After a couple rounds, JJ pulled Emily out to the dance floor. They let the music take them over, relinquishing their thoughts to the rhythm on the dance floor.
They spent an unknown amount of time dancing, not caring about anything besides themselves and dancing. But soon, that magic started to fade and the women returned to their table. Derek was standing at the table’s side, having noticed the way that JJ and Emily stood closer as they drank more alcohol. Having a brilliant idea, he spoke up as JJ and Emily took a bite of the chips they had ordered for the table.
“JJ, Emily, I have an idea. Why don’t we play a little game? You two are the strong ladies of the BAU, including my Babygirl but right now I’m focusing on y’all. How about the two of you arm wrestle? I want to know which of you is stronger.”
“Derek, we’re both drunk. That’s not a fair game, even though we know the winner would be me.” JJ’s body swayed lightly, but Emily quickly stabilized her.
“I’m down. At least, I’m no chicken.” Emily spoke in a teasing tone, stealing a glance at JJ.
“Oh, no you don’t. Okay, let’s do it. I’m in.” JJ nodded enthusiastically, invigorated at the idea of a challenge to beat Emily in.
They cleared the space and let JJ and Emily get ready. Both did their own ridiculous warm ups, obviously exaggerating it. They set their arms down and were ready to begin when JJ stopped.
“Wait. What are the stakes?” Emily responded, saying something that she’d wanted to do for a long time.
“If I lose, I’ll take you out on a date. If you lose, you have to take me out on a date. How’s that sound?”
Her proposition shocked the entire table. They’d all been waiting for JJ and Emily to stop tiptoeing around each other. This was just not how they expected things to unfold, albeit it would make a great story for the future. Sober JJ and Penelope would have a field day with this.
“Deal.” JJ was drunk too, but that was an offer that was too good to pass up.
With that, Derek set the two up to begin the match. It was very evenly matched in the beginning. Neither woman budged, focusing very hard on their end prize. The team’s eyes shifted from JJ to Emily, and back again. Their grip was strong but no progress was being made. By the time that they had hit the 20 minute mark, Emily could feel the fog in her brain begin to clear up.
At that point, she took a closer look at her opponent. She watched the way that JJ’s blue eyes locked onto their hands, checking for even the slightest of hesitations. She saw the way that JJ’s clothes hung on her body, giving her an air of confidence that made JJ infinitely hotter. Finally, Emily looked back up to JJ’s hair. It’s long, straight stands dropped over her forehead and framed her face well. Emily lost herself in the thought of running her fingers through the silky cut.
That was when she felt the cool, hard wood of the table. Emily’s eyes widened and she looked down. There it was. Her hand was pressed against the surface, pinned underneath JJ’s.
“I win! Guess you have to take me out on that date, chicken.” JJ teased Emily, getting closer to the brunette’s face.
“I get to take someone as dashing as you out? Well, I might have lost but this seems like the better prize.
JJ’s heart soared at the compliment. The way that the word ‘dashing’ rolled off of Emily’s lips made her feel ecstatic. It wasn’t like when men called her pretty after buying a drink. This hair really was working wonders.
They ended the night with a kiss before Emily climbed out of the rideshare and walked up the apartment. JJ ran her fingers over her lips as the car pulled away. Best decision ever.
tag list: @ssa-jareaus @coramvobis @altsvu @hotchshoney @morcias @jelle-jareau @dragisthegame @ssakayprentish69 @dimitrescus-bitch @jay-writes-jemily @bridget19 @hmm-wanky @emilyprentissfangirl @tokoblade @temily
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Mike Milligram: The Lost Killjoy
Edit: On July 21st 2020, a Mike Milligram comic by Gerard Way and Shaun Simon was officially announced. However, I’ll leave this post as it is for future reference.
In 2009, while My Chemical Romance fans were eagerly awaiting news on their upcoming album, Gerard Way had another surprise in store: the announcement of a new comic series called “Killjoys.”
Co-written by Shaun Simon and illustrated by Becky Cloonan, Gerard told CBR that the series would “deal with much more mature and controversial themes, such as hate crimes and homophobia, the homogenization of American culture and American life.” Unlike “The Umbrella Academy,” which was set in a fantasy world, “Killjoys” was set in modern-day America.
But what nobody realized was that even after an album, two music videos, and a six-issue comic series, Gerard’s original conception would never see the light of day.
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In 2008, Gerard Way and Shaun Simon developed the Killjoys universe in a frenzy of inspiration. Gerard’s original sketch features Mike Milligram on the left–named after Gerard’s brother Mikey Way–with a host of other characters that accompanied Mike on his journey. The comic was announced a year later at San Diego Comic Con, with a release planned in 2010.
With My Chemical Romance wrapping up their fourth album, Gerard and Shaun were ready to start writing. Becky Cloonan drew concept art for Mike Milligram, as well as promotional artwork that they planned to use at the Comic Con announcement. However, the Mike Milligram art was scrapped and replaced with a simple image of the Killjoy spider–a move that could later be seen as prophetic.
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In 2009, “Killjoys” was an entirely different concept. There was no Party Poison, no Dr. Death Defying, no Battery City, no girl with special powers. The original comic involved a surreal road trip through America that reunited offbeat characters and confronted harsh realities along the way. In 2013, Shaun Simon offered this description in the introduction to the special hardcover edition of the comics:
The old version of the story focused on Mike Milligram, a late-twenty-something living in a desert trailer park and working a crappy job at a supermarket. Mike’s teenage years were a blur. He couldn’t tell if the things he remembered had actually happened or not. Part of him believed he was part of a gang called the Killjoys who fought fictional things in the real world. The other part of him believed it was all just a dream. Music was the only thing that kept Mike going, so when the music was erased from his Ramones tape, it sent him over the edge. He went out and got his old teenage gang, who were now living normal lives, back together because, yes, it was all real. Other members of his gang included Ani-Max, now a high school history teacher; Code Blue, a rabble-rouser who was a working girl in Vegas; Monster, a new young member they met on the road; and Kyle 100%, who was a B-list actor now. They all had strange powers based on objects. Halloween masks and costume accessories, puffy jackets, toy ray guns. It was a story about a group of old friends getting together and discovering what America really was. Reaching deep inside its pretty facade and pulling out the ugly guts. (It was semiautobiographical. I toured with Gerard and his band for a couple of years before realizing I needed to find my own path.) The gang would have found out that another former gang had now become the largest health care corporation in the country and were hell bent on making the world a safe and clean place by removing all that was dirty, like the Ramones. It would have been a great story, and I’m sure parts will end up in Gerard’s and my’s future work.
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Of course, we all know what happened after that announcement. After Gerard took a fateful week-long trip to the desert, MCR decided to scrap “Conventional Weapons” and fueled their energy into writing “Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.” But even as Gerard delved into this new post-apocalyptic version of the Killjoy universe, the comics remained the same. As late as 2011, Gerard claimed in an interview with Artrocker that the comics hadn’t changed at all:
No, none of the characters, even our characters, are in it. It is a completely separate thing, even almost a separate setting. It shares all the ideals behind the record and the theories and the commentary but it is nothing like the videos you have seen. I think the car is probably the only thing that’s the same!
But as the band took on more responsibilities–filming music videos, promoting the album, going on tour–the comics kept getting pushed back. First the release planned for 2010; then it was pushed back to 2011. And while the era had kicked off without a hitch, MCR eventually hit one of the first of many roadblocks: they didn’t have enough money to film the third video. So as Shaun Simon told CBR, the original story featuring Mike Milligram was scrapped, and replaced with the story of the girl and the Ultra Vs:
[A]fter the record, Gerard had built this whole world around the Killjoys. When it came time for the comic, Gerard called me up and said, “We ran out of money. We wanted to make the third video, but we don’t have the money. So do you want to make the idea for that video into a comic?” We started talking about ideas, and we had so many that it turned into this whole series.
In an interview with Paste (2013), Gerard went into more detail about the process:
The deal is that I had written three videos (“Na Na Na,” “Sing,” and “The Only Hope For Me Is You”), and the third video had never gotten made. By the time we had completed the second video, we just ran out of budget money. At the time, somebody was managing us and not keeping an eye on this stuff. Long story short, there was no budget. So I wrote a video, and of course it ends up being the most expensive one, as the last part would usually be. But we couldn’t make it! Killjoys started its life as a very different comic. It was heavily-rooted in nineties Vertigo post-modernism. There’s a lot of very cool, abstract ideas in it; I wouldn’t even call it a superhero book. That (comic) was a visual and thematic inspiration on what would become the album Danger Days. It was pretty loose, though. This was going to be my interpretation of the story, so there’s way more science fiction involved. And what I need to say to the world needed to be a little more direct, so I boiled it down to something that’s still very smart and challenging, but I thought was definitely easier to understand through song or visual. Then (Killjoys artist) Becky Cloonan drew a 7-inch for “The Only Hope For Me Is You,” which was going to be the last video single. I realized I was out of budget, so I said ‘just make this the girl from the first and second video at 15. And have her shave her head or chop her hair off like in The Legend of Billie Jean, because that’s how the video was supposed to start.’ So (Cloonan) sends this drawing over and I’m on tour with Blink 182 in a hotel on an off day. I get this drawing and I’m so immediately blown away by it. I call Shaun, my co-writer and co-creator, and I say ‘open your email, I’m going to send you something.’ I ask him ‘how does this image make you feel?’ We talked for two hours. By the end of the conversation we both realized that that image was the comic, and the third video was basically the comic. So we figured how we were going to make this interesting and exciting for six issues and complete the story. And that was the final direction. It was pretty obvious to us.
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In a way, Mike Milligram’s spirit lived on, as fans noticed the similarities between Mike Milligram and Party Poison. But it’s inaccurate to say that Mike Milligram became Party Poison, though “Party Poison’s real name is Mike Milligram” became a persistent rumor in the fandom. Mike’s story was not Poison’s; he wasn’t a post-apocalyptic rebel, but a teenager searching for his identity in modern America.
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Will Mike Milligram’s story ever be told? At this point, it’s not likely. But his tale offers a glimpse into the creative minds of Gerard Way and Shaun Simon, and makes us ponder the fact that with a few changes–the comics being released earlier, for instance, or MCR having the money to fund the third video–the comics could have been entirely different.
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kindness-bliss · 3 years
Text
New Beginnings Ch. 7
Timothy Thatcher x OC
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Tim looked over at her discreetly he witnessed her trying to open a jar and cleaned his hands on his already stained shirt “I got that for you”   “And I got this for you” she said as she went into her small closet in the living room and pulled out a flannel shirt  “It’s my dads, I don’t wanna see you in a bloody dried up t shirt as we make dinner”   He nodded quickly as he took off his shirt and unbuttoned on the one she gave him Maya blushed as she grilled her ground turkey and noticed how chiseled he was, his upper chest having the perfect amount of body hair and peaks, his biceps bulging out nicely but not overly muscular or anything like that    “It fits” Tim grinned as he showed her  “Not that bad on you” she admits with a small grin “Plaid is definitely your style, I like it on you” “I-I don’t deserve you being so nice to me” he said quietly “Maya, I won’t ever be able to stop saying sorry to you ever, know that. I’m probably gonna say sorry to you for as long as I know you”   “Tim, when’s your birthday ?” Maya asked suddenly as she looked at him “I know it’s 1983 but month ? What month ?”  “March….March 17th” he answered slowly “why ?”   “Oh my god you’re a Pisces, suddenly everything makes sense wow” she nodded as she laughed “Gosh you fit it to a T, you’re a water sign”    “What does that have to do with anything ? A water sign ? What the hell is that ?” Tim asked confused as he put his cutting board down   “It’s your sign Tim” she chuckled “Your sign is a Pisces which makes sense because they’re...well you are considered to have a sign that is known for its over sensitivity, self-pitying but also very selfless and very accepting”    “Oh” he said softly “well I guess yeah, kinda is me. My mother says it’s because I’m an only child and never got to experience things other children got at my age since I also stayed with my grandmother a lot. I think that made me highly sensitive”   “You call it highly sensitive, I call it highly aware” she grinned as she took the carrots and celery from him and added them to a pan to saute   Tim observed as sat on a stool by her “what are you making ? It looks kinda complicated honestly” “Bolognese” Maya says “Though I’m kind of cheating because I’m using sauce from a jar, but I promise it’ll be good”   “Oh” he nodded “I don’t cook much honestly, I only have ever made chicken or ham and it’s typically without seasoning. Same with my rice, I stick to bland foods for the most part. I broke my diet when we went to that Korean BBQ place” Tim said softly as he reached over and cut up onion for her    “Glad I got you to change things up for a bit, though you ghosted me and acted like a child afterwards and ruined me introducing you to better places” she giggled   “I’m gonna age myself here a bit but um, what’s ghosted ?” he asked with genuine interest as he looked down at her   “It means ignore, basically a millennial way of saying you ignored me” she answered back  “Ah I see, I like that...ghosted. I’m adding that to my vocabulary” he nodded as he repeated the word under his breath as he chopped   “Gosh he’s cute” Maya thought to herself as he stood only inches away from him, their arms basically touching as she sauteed. She made sure she stayed in close distance as she cooked looking around as silence began to take over   “Since you were a dick to me, you have to be really nice to me now like really nice” she said with a smile  “I will do whatever you want or need me to do” Tim smiled at her with his dimple popping out more “Kiss me” she whispered nervously as she looked into his eyes    “Like...like right now ?” he asked nervously “o-okay...I’m not that good at it though and my beard is gonna scratch, my lips are kinda dry too and-” he stopped blubbering when he felt her soft lips gently press onto his as she carefully put his hands on her waist as he leaned in more and placed hers on his cheeks    Maya grinned up at him afterwards as she gently wiped his lips and put ice back on his face “go sit with this on while I finish here and by the way, you’re a good kisser”  He chuckled as nodded and sat on her couch “well thank you, haven’t heard that one in like 5 years at least”. Tim sat quietly as he iced his face trying to make sense of what had just happened. Just 6 hours ago he had told her horrible things and now here was having just had a make out session in her kitchen as they cooked dinner together. Tim looked around as he picked up magazines she had on her coffee table and looked through them smiling when he realized they were all her covers or features. One in particular catching his eye, a feature in a parenting magazine where she was holding a baby on her lap.    “Last year” Maya grinned “I typically don’t do those kinds but they needed a model last minute and I happened to be in the area and went in. It was fun, kids and babies were great to work with honestly and now what I expected. That little one stole my heart, made me think I wanted my own for a bit”    “You think about kids ? Not in a weird day of course, just since like me you’re an only child” she asked “I mean yeah, sometimes” he admits quietly “Granted I really thought I was gonna stop wrestling when I was like 30 and settle down and have that white picket fence life everyone else had but clearly life has passed me by. But I’ve had some other good things in life, experiences and memories not everyone has had in life. I’m not one to complain, you ?” Tim asked as he looked at her   “Sometimes I want 1, sometimes none and other times I want like 5” Maya chuckled
“5 ?” Tim laughed “That’s a basketball team right there, Jesus that’d be feeding an army daily”   “Which is why then I think maybe not having them at all would be more beneficial” she laughed “I’ve got time to think about it thankfully, like 5 more years”   “Enjoy your youth, and your job. It’s interesting, really it is Maya” Tim says genuinely “You’ve been to some amazing places, you have experiences most won’t get and you’re only 25. It’s amazing truly”  Maya grinned at him as she fixed the ice pack on his face “I appreciate that, but your face will appreciate this ice way way more”. Damn, kissing him must’ve been the best thing she felt in ages, she could tell he wanted it just as bad as she did yet kept his usual calm demeanor. She came out of her daze as she heard her her cell phone buzz, muttering quietly as Marcel’s pet name appeared  “Dinner tomorrow is still on ?” “Yeah….but let’s meet somewhere, I think I’m ready to tell Tim the truth” Maya sighed as his name quickly appeared on her screen and declined his facetime requests and calls immediately  “Answer me please, Maya just don’t do it today please. Let’s meet tomorrow and we can figure something out...please ?” “Fine, I won’t do it tonight but I’m doing it soon, I like him a lot and I’m not gonna keep secrets from him Marcel, and neither should you. I’ll text you tomorrow morning” she sent as she put her phone on silent and set their plates up She went to the bathroom as she wiped her residue makeup off her face and put her hair up in a ponytail to fresh up, applying some perfume lightly as she looked herself over and left the bathroom    “Oh” she whispered as she saw Tim sleeping on her couch, giving soft snores as his arms were crossed on his chest. Even in his sleep he wasn’t relaxed, it kinda looked like he was just closing his eyes to her and waiting to spook her any second. She contemplated waking him up for a second and went to touch his shoulder, but instead decided to graze his cheek with the back of her hand gently, covering him up with her throw she had on the couch.  Maya shrugged as she turned on the tv and sat on the opposite end as she stuffed spoonfuls of pasta into her mouth watching Real Housewives of New Jersey, shaking her head at the stupid drama on her television shifting when she heard Tim move around and groan   “What ? What happened ?” Tim asked with a groan as he stretched “did I fall asleep here ?” “You did” she nodded “only been like an hour and a half, now please get yourself a plate and don’t bother me for the next 20 minutes because Teresa Giudice is about to cause drama at this fashion show so shhh”   He raised his brow in confusion as he stood up and served himself a plate and sat next to her going back and forth between her reactions and the tv screen in front of him “Did she just call her an old hag and a bitch ?”    “Tim shh” she put a finger to his lips absentmindedly Tim nodded quickly as he leaned back into the couch and ate, speaking up when the show was over with wide eyes “That was… a lot. Is all reality tv like this ?”  “Only the best” Maya laughed “and by the way, sorry for shushing you like that” He shrugged “I deserve more than that”  “Tim, as of tonight we drop it” she turned to look at him “Please” Maya cleaned up thinking what the hell she got herself into with him, this wasn’t in her character at all. One second she was ready to see him drop dead 8 floors to the ground and the next she was making out with him in her kitchen. This was new territory she was going into and deep down it felt right, it felt right to kiss him and feel his touch and she could feel he was feeling the same way. She turned her head , gasping as she bumped into him    “Yes ?” she whispered “Maya, I like you” Tim said “I like you a lot...and I feel like if I don’t tell you now that it’s just us here in a comfortable environment I probably won’t say it again. This isn’t like me one bit” he admits “I’ll be honest yeah I’ve had girlfriends, I dated women here and there but I never felt like this…”    “Like how ?” she asked softly  “Scared, scared that when I was with you I liked who I was for once, I felt at ease and like I didn’t need to put the harsh wrestling persona up. You didn’t care or give it much thought either or pestered me like some others had in the past. And I just wanna say-” “Tim shut the fuck up and just kiss me already” she said softly    And he did. He kissed her deeply as he moved his hands down to her hips and lifted her with ease onto her kitchen countertop feeling her hands move up and down his chest. It wasn’t just a long kiss, it was several kisses with small breaks in between to ensure they could catch their breath as their hands roamed freely all over each other's bodies. Maya unbuttoned the first 3 buttons off his shirt as she lightly traced his chest with her nails as her forehead pressed against his “we should go to my room….we don’t have to you know...have sex but we can just do more of this there comfortably”   “Okay” he nodded as he took her hand and followed her into her room, looking around at the pristine condition everything was in. A vanity organized with makeup items and skin care products he couldn’t even name, her bed perfectly made and covered in pillows, a closet the size of his bedroom with clothes in every color of the rainbow. Everything so neat and luxurious, everything he didn’t have.   She leaned up against him she kissed him again, this time with more dominance as she stumbled onto her bed on top of him, feeling his hands lightly on her lower back    Tim pulled apart from her as he rubbed his slightly red lips and pet her hair gently with his hand “I haven’t had anything like that in a while” he admitted with a small grin    “Neither have I’ she chuckled, licking her lips feeling them swell “It’s like free lip filler” “Always a comedian” Tim laughed genuinely sitting up on her bed “Jesus it’s 11 already and I gotta walk back to my car to get home, I got tapings tomorrow”   “Just stay here and I’ll take you back in the morning, it’ll be early I promise” she said softly as she gave a comforting grin “Okay, I”ll take the couch though. I’m not sleeping in your bed, this was a one time thing that I typically don’t let happen”    “What a gentleman you are” Maya said as she brought him a pillow and blanket “I’ve got all the works on my tv so feel free to watch what you like, bathroom is right next to the closet”    “Thanks, I appreciate it really” She got up in the morning as she turned off her alarm and got ready for the day, taking a peek and seeing Tim up and sitting as he watched tv making different facial expressions  “What are you watching ?” she chuckled as she walked out and turned on her Nespresso machine “Danielle is a mess, I get why you watch this trashy stuff. It’s addicting” he shook his head as he turned it off  Maya laughed as she took out two mugs from her cabinet “Well now you know and let me guess, you take your black ?” “ Yeah” He nodded as he got up and sat on a stool    “I got a shoot in like an hour so I probably won’t be able to talk to you for most of today” she said softly as she packed her bag “chances are till late late tonight”   “Oh….well um I was hoping if you’re able to, I actually have a taping tomorrow and I wanted to ask you if you would like to attend ? It’s about 2 hours, it’s fun even for someone like you who’s never been around wrestling” Never been around wrestling, after a great night she remembered the big mess she had yet to talk to him about. Marcel, shit.    “I’ll try my hardest” she responded with a grin as she drove them back to his car “Thanks again for driving me here, I appreciate it have a good shoot” he nodded as he lingered for a while leaning in slowly as he pet her cheek with his hand and kissed her “Um I think your friend over there saw us” Maya laughed softly as she pointed to an opened mouthed Oney at the gym entrance    Tim chuckled and shook his head as he got out “I’m not gonna hear the end of this one, I’ll text you later, have a good work day” he smiled softly as he walked away “Is that….you have a ?, speak up already” Oney pushed as he followed him to his car “you can’t just not tell me what’s going on after kissing someone like THAT” He turned around as he got out his gym bag “excuse me ? what do you mean like that ? what’s with the emphasis on the end there ?”    Oney shook his head as he gave a scoff “Do you have any idea who that is ? What kind of work she does ?”
  “Uh yeah she’s a mode” Tim nodded as they walked inside “I’ve seen her stuff, she showed me and talked to me all about it”
“I can’t believe you’re dating a model man, you of all people. No offense of course but I mean I never pictured you even dating someone at all”
Tim raised a brow “I’m that bad of a catch huh ? Gee I feel great now that you’ve given me this amazing pep talk, feeling like I can conquer the world now” he answered sarcastically stretching
  “How old is she ?” Oney asked “because there’s no way she’s older than 30”
“25….” he said softly “she’s 25, just turned 25 actually about 2 months ago”
“WHAT ?” Oney said as he spit out his water “No fucking way, you’re dating a 25 year old ?”
  “Would you stop, we’re not dating…….we’re friends that’s all” he answered as he began his cardio
  “Oh yeah because you totally suck face with a friend before leaving right ?” Oney chuckled “You’re in deep, you did the cheek grab and the little linger after you kiss” “Well maybe I like her, friends right now but who knows maybe after she comes to the show might change” he gave a smile “I invited her and she said she’ll come” “Who are you and what have you done to my friend ?” Oney asked with a raised brow “Because you are not the Tim I know” “Let’s just say maybe I wanna enjoy life a bit more” He shrugged “and I’m starting with her, she likes me. I like her, there’s nothing that can go wrong” Nothing right ?
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animekath · 5 years
Text
Breed
Eddie Gluskin X Reader
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Hey guys, Kat here!
I’m still alive, just VERY tired from work! I like working nights, but I have no life in me to do anything besides sleep. - 7 -” Oh well, I wanted to give you guys a mini smut for being such sweethearts!
*sweats* I’m not sure if anyone is still into Outlast though - It’s an ‘old’ game, but it’s still amazing - it’s scary and has memorable characters! Like most cuties, Eddie is my favourite - I love the killer so much!
I hope you enjoy it! Sorry for spelling and grammar!
Words: 1815
Warning: Normal!Au (I guess?), Pregnancy kink, breeding kink, creampie, Kitchen sex, Rough sex, possessive, strong language, Sweet and rough!
Enjoy!
You hummed in the kitchen as you started making breakfast for your new husband, the tune based off a song he loved dearly.
You’ve known Eddie for three years, and right off the bat, you knew he wanted a wife and child. You didn’t mind the idea as well, but you wanted to take things slow, telling him you had relations in the past that didn’t end so well. He looked practically heartbroken that anyone would upset you in such a way, telling you he would never do that to you and he never has over these years.
The wedding was two weeks ago, and when he laid you in bed, he hasn’t stopped taking you since. He wanted a child as soon as possible, saying ‘well we’re not getting any younger’ and ‘I just want us to have a perfect family’. Seeing your friends and family having kids of their own, you also wanted a child - Of course, you were nervous about carrying and caring for a child, but Eddie made your anxious thoughts fade with his comforting words, saying he’ll be beside you every step of the way and you believed him.
You were so in thought that you jumped when two strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist. “Darling..!” The chipper voice said behind you, smiling when you felt him place kisses on top of your head. “Did I frighten you?”
“No, sweetheart, I was just deep in thought.” You replied to your husband, continuing to chop the peppers and onions. “Did you sleep well?” Well, he should of, climaxing three times inside you last night.
“I slept well, thank you, Darling. Did you?” Eddie replied, his hand gently rubbing your belly.
“I slept fine, although I did feel a bit sick this morning.” You hummed, your eyes still forward. “But I’m fine now, so don’t worry.”
“Don’t get ill on me; I need my little wife to be healthy for today.” You were about to question him but felt one of his hands run along up to your chest while the other slipped under your nightgown to rub your thigh.
“Mmm...Eddie. I’m still sore from last night.” You let out a breathy laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up as he palmed your breast, his other massive hand slipping into your panties.
“Hmm, just one more for today and I’ll treat you all day.” Eddie purred against your ear, placing kisses on your neck which made you bit your lip. “I’ll make a nice bubble bath for you, maybe watch some movies and make you a lovely dinner tonight.” He hummed, sighing as his middle finger ran along your slit. “Oh Darling, you’re still wet from last night.” He let out a low growl when he slipped his finger between your walls, a moan escaping your lips when he curled them inside you. “I can still feel my seed inside you.”
You felt his cock hardening against your ass, knowing Eddie got excited when he thought about his cum inside you, getting you sweet and full because of him. Well, might as well tease him if he’s going to take you in the kitchen. “Mmm, of course, sweety. I love it when my husbands' seed is inside me.” You bucked against him, feeling his cock twitch, biting down the giggle which was close to escaping your lips. “I love getting nice and full because of you.” You heard your large husband growl against your neck, knowing you were playing with fire,
Eddie loved making love to you, but you knew he had a kink he didn’t realise or admit to yet. “Darling...You're so lewd to this older man.” He grunted out, slipping another finger inside you to stretch you out, making you buck up against him once again. “Such teasing...Slut.” He bit your shoulder, moaning as his whole body took over you, breakfast being forgotten.
His hands were getting rough, but you didn’t mind, you loved this side of him. You teased him about this side of him, but he ignored the accusations, saying he is always gentle with you. “Nh-Sweety...” You ran your fingers through his hair, hearing him purr as he pinched your hard nipple, his hips grinding against your ass. “Please...I need you.” You gasped when he shoved your upper body on the kitchen counter, your chest pressing down on the table as your hands held the edge.
Eddie lifted your nightgown, licking his lips when he saw your gorgeous ass in display. “Beautiful...Such a beautiful wife.” He hummed as he spread your legs, making you let out a whimper when his thumb parted your pussy lips, getting embarrassed that he was staring. “Oh, Darling...I can see your walls pulsing. You must be so desperate for me and my seed.” He tugged down his bottoms to the mid of his thighs to take out his cock, rubbing the swollen tip against you. “Tell me...Tell me how much you want me.” He said, sounding so desperate and needy. “You want your husband to fill you, right?” He sighs as his tip would poke in for a second before coming out again, teasing you.
“Hah...Y-Yes. Eddie, sweety...I need you. Oh god, I want you so much...!” You begged, trying so hard to not buck up into him. “Oh please, I’m begging you...!” You whined, your forehead resting on the cool counter. “Pl-Please fill your wif-Ah!” You gasped when you felt his cock slip inside you, his whole shaft going deep. Eddie groaned behind you, his nails digging into your hips to hold you in place, his cock pulsing inside your walls. “Eddie...!”
“Oh, Lord...Darling, you’re still so tight for me. Every part of you is beautiful.” Eddie sighs. He pulled back and pushed in - going slow so you could feel every inch inside you, Eddie’s cock was long and thick that when he pushed harder in, you felt his tip hitting your end. Even now, you were still not used to his size, but you loved it - either way, making your toes curl against the cold tiles. “My wife...Do you feel good? Mm, you feel amazing around me. I can be buried inside you forever.” He hums out, watching his own thick shaft being buried inside you, the thought exciting him. Only his cock could be inside you and filling you up with his hot cum, getting your belly beautiful and full with his child.
“Sweetheart, you always feel S-So good.” You moaned, parting your legs wider for him to go deeper, wanting nothing but him to pound you again. “You can go harder, Eddie. I want to be used and filled with your seed.” He bit his lip; his eyes darken by your lustful words. “I want your child so much...”
Oh, saying words like that - you knew what it did to him.
 His thrusts started becoming faster, his hips slapping against your ass as he fucked you, hearing your husband groan as he reached out to grab your hair. “Fucking slut...” You cried out when he pulled your head back, having a proper angle to fuck into you. “Just like the other whores who want to be used and fucked.” He grunted out, his hand gripping your hip tightly, knowing it’ll leave bruises, but that didn’t matter now. “You can cry out louder, can’t you? Like a bitch in heat.”
You cried out again when he tugged at your hair, looking at the ceiling as he held you there, his cock going harder into your sore pussy, your hands gripping the counter at how intense it was. “Y-Yes, yes, I’m your whore...! I’m only your whore...Ah-Use me, fuck me, B-Break me!” You begged. You loved when Eddie got like this, your mind going blank when he fucked you roughly.
“B-Breed me!”
Eddie smirked by your words, his thrusting increasing in speed and strength, making you cry out more. “Ngh-I will, my breeding bitch! Only my wife to have my fucking kids...! I might as well tie you to the bed and leave you there like a fucking doll! I bet-hah-You would love that, wouldn’t you? Be nothing but a cum dump for me every. Fucking. Day!” You practically had hearts in your eyes and Eddie probably did as well by how he was talking.
You walls clamped down onto your husband, making each other moan by the tight friction as he continued. “Are you close, Darling? Hah, I am too...Come for me. Come on my cock, like the needy slut you are...!”
“E-Eddie! Yes, sweetheart, yes! I’m close-Ah! I’m C-Coming!” You cried out, seeing white as you came, your walls pulsing and clamping down on Eddie. He continued until his climax was coming, now your body pinned on the counter as he filled up your womb with his cum.
“Ah! Fucking Whore!” Eddie cried, his hips still as he came inside you, being balls deep, so none of his cum leaked out. He gasped and panted out, the larger husband forgetting to breathe for a few seconds. You rested your forehead on your arms, your eyes closed as you tried to calm yourself from the sweet bliss. You felt him cuddle up into your neck as he hugged your waist, staying there a bit longer, not wanting to pull out of you.
“Hah...Ah...Darling...?” Eddies’ sweet voice was back, knowing he forgot he even called you such unpleasant words. “You okay?”
“Mmhmm...I...I just - My legs are shaking.” You let out a soft laugh, hearing your husband chuckle behind you. He slowly pulled out when his cock softened, tucking himself back in his pants before picking you up to lead you to their bedroom.
“I’ll continue with the breakfast, you stay in bed and rest, looking pretty as ever.” He kissed your forehead before he placed you down on the comfy mattress. “I’m such a lucky man. I love you so much.” He kissed you, being tender and gentle.
“I love you too, sweet husband.” You smiled as he walked out of the bedroom; your body feeling exhausted.
~~~
Eddie woke up the next day, humming as he snuggled into his pillow, slowly stirring awake. “Mmm...Darling...?” He raised his head, seeing you weren’t in bed. He slowly got up, stretching out his body to undo some joints as he walked to the bathroom - But noticed the lights were on. “Darling, are you alright?” As he opened the door, his heart stopped; seeing you staring at the sink with your hand covering your mouth, tears running down your face. When the door squeaked, you raised your head to Eddie.
Why are you crying? Who upset you, who hurt you?
Dark thoughts ran his mind but quickly faded when you ran over, practically attacking him with a hug. “Eddie!” He heard you laugh, making the poor man very confused. But as he hugged back, he noticed a test in the sink...Wait.
You pulled away to cup his cheeks, a bright smile on your face. 
“I’m pregnant!”
THE END! o u o
607 notes · View notes
downwiththeficness · 4 years
Text
A Need So Great-Chapter 15
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Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.
Word Count: ~6,700
Warnings: There’s a lot here... kidnapping (kind of), assault, allusions to rape and sexual assault, smut
A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.
Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21
Eva knew something was wrong. The house was always quiet, save for the sound of the waves below, but this was stagnant. She stood in the kitchen, chopping fruit for a late lunch, the knife sounding dully in her hand. Her stomach twisted as she looked down at the mango, shredded from where she’d lost focus and slid the knife through it too many times. She stared at it, disgusted.
There was no sound, no indication of movement, but Eva knew there was someone behind her.  The hair on her arms and over the back of her neck stood on end, her fingers twitching over the blade. For several seconds, she intentionally didn’t turn around.  For several seconds, she let herself feel like everything was normal—that this was a completely normal moment in a completely normal day.
And then she turned.
“Hello, Birdie.”
Eva stopped breathing.
Zero was lounging at their dining room table. He was wearing tactical gear, a few days’ growth of a beard on his chin. He’d camped out for a bit before making his approach when he knew Horacio would be out getting the supplies. His skin was pale, nearly translucent, hair a pale blonde.  He’d let it grow long over the last few years. It flopped over his forehead in a way that looked more careless than it actually was.
“Hello, Zero.”
His head rolled to the side, “We’re old friends, Birdie.  Please, call me Alexei.”
Eva looked past him to the staircase, and over to the door. Zero clocked it.
“The helicopter came in about ten minutes ago. He’ll be another half hour before he makes it up the path. Very resourceful, your Colonel.”
Forcing her body to remain relaxed, Eva acknowledged the compliment with a tip of her head, “I’m happy with him.”
He smiled, straight white teeth, “Anyone with eyes can see how happy you are.”
“Is that why you’re here? Because I’m happy?”
Zero lifted a brow, giving her all the answers she needed. Eva widened her stance, thumb running over the handle of the knife.  She wouldn’t be able to take him in a fair fight, wouldn’t be able to take him in an unfair fight, either.
“She couldn’t leave it alone.”
He shrugged, “That is her way, Birdie.”
The way he was looking at her—there was sorrow in his eyes. This was a ploy, a way to get her to lower her guard. She knew this, but wasn’t unaffected by it. So many people had looked at her with pity over the years, but none who knew intimately the things she’d done, the things that had been done to her. Zero had more reason to pity her than anyone she’d ever known.
Eva swallowed, hand tightening on the knife. Then, telegraphing as little as possible, she surged past him towards the staircase. He was too fast, on his feet and catching her arm in the blink of an eye.  Eva grunted, turning and swinging the blade. She caught him in the forearm, cutting through his clothes to the meat and turning it.
He yelled, grip loosening enough that she got free.  Stumbling, she reached the stairs and stomped up them, hauling herself up by the rail.  Eva made it up all the way, rounding the corner and down the hall. She could hear his heavy footfalls following behind and her adrenaline spiked. Ten feet. Five feet. Three feet. She threw herself into the bedroom, was headed for the panic room when he got to her.
She fell to the floor hard, her hip taking the brunt of the blow. He rolled her beneath him, but pushed a little too hard and she got the leverage she needed to pin one thigh down with her knee and an arm down with her elbow. Knife in hand, she brought it up and down hard, wincing when he blocked it with his forearm, blood spurting from the wound she’d made.
Releasing the arm she’d pinned, Eva used both hands and most of her weight to try to drive the knife downwards and into his chest.  Centimeter by centimeter, she gained the advantage, until she had maybe two or three inches before she met skin. A sharp pain tingled along her thigh.  Eva looked down at the needle just as he pushed in the plunger.
Knowing she was on a timeline, Eva pushed harder, yelling.  It did no good.  Whatever he’d injected her with was fast, her vision blurred. Before she passed out, she got a good look at his wide, gleeful smile. She wondered if he would, indeed, keep his record at zero.
As she began to lose consciousness, Zero rolled her off him and swung her up and over his shoulder. Her arms hung down, limp, as he carried her. Far away, she heard the main door open and close. Drawing a deep breath, she let out a scream, a weak sound that died in her throat. Against the meat of her thighs, Eva felt Zero laugh.
Waking was terrible. Eva’s head hurt, her body hurt, everything fucking hurt. She was slumped against a wooden pole in the basement, her hands bound behind her. Eva blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. A welcome voice said her name once, twice.
Eva lifted her head. Horacio was sitting in a wooden chair that had definitely seen better days, his arms and ankles handcuffed to the legs. There was a bruise blossoming at his temple. A ginger twist of her wrists told her that she was similarly bound. Her legs, however, were free.
“Did he hurt you?” she asked, looking up and to her left.
“I should be asking you that question.”
Eva shook her head, regretting the action immediately, “I’m fine. A little woozy and my head hurts, but he hasn’t started in on me yet.”
Horacio cleared his throat, and she could see his shoulders and arms flexing against his bonds, “You know him, Eva.  What is he going to do?”
She thought about it, “Could go a few ways. He could torture you in front of me, he already knows I have feelings for you. Or, we could go that other way, work on me while you watch.”
Eva heard him audibly swallow, heard his feet scuff against the floor.  She looked around. Zero had disarmed Horacio, his preferred firearm sitting on a table next to...several syringes. They were laid out carefully. No labels, no indication as to what was inside. Eva glanced at the rest of the room. The wine rack, covered in a light layer of dust sat at the far end, near the washer and dryer. Above her was what used to be a drying line that reached across to another wooden pole about ten feet away, a remnant from before the place was modernized. On the table with Horacio’s gun was another set of handcuffs, possibly for her feet.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked, feeling tears rise up. Guilt rode her heavy, she was sorry that she’d dragged him into her mess.
Horacio shook his head, “I should have taken you to the beach with me. I let my guard down.”
They both had.  The stillness of the place, the quiet tranquility of the little home they had borrowed, had lulled them into a soft calm that shouldn’t have been there.  
She could see the guilt written clearly on his face, just as it was written on her own, “No. This isn’t your fault. He wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”
The door to the upstairs swung open and Zero’s heavy footsteps dropped on each stair, an ugly beating drum. Eva sniffed, blinking away the tears and dropping into that place she hadn’t needed to go to for a very long time, the place where nothing could hurt her. It would be the only way she was going to survive whatever he was going to do to her.
Zero was smiling as he approached. He’d wrapped up his arm, the bandage a little pink, but it looked like she hadn’t cut him deep enough to hinder the flex of his hands, “I’m so glad you’re awake. I thought I was going to have to pass the time by removing his fingers.”
Eva held her tongue, but Horacio spoke up, voice terse, rapid fire Spanish flying out like little bullets.  She was grateful for what he was trying to do, pull Zero’s attention elsewhere, but she knew the hitman wouldn’t be deterred for long.
Zero laughed, patting Horacio’s face. He responded, likewise, in Spanish. Eva only caught the reference to her and to blood, but she got the gist by the way Horacio paled, his jaw clenching. She had to intervene, and quickly.
“We both know you’re not going to kill me any time soon,” she said, hardening herself, “You’re too arrogant for that. So, why don’t you tell me what the plan is, Alexei. And then I can get on with telling you to go fuck yourself.”
Zero laughed, full bellied, head thrown back.  Eva had never known such a joyful looking thing could be so terrible. Her fists clenched behind her as she fought to reign herself in.
Wiping at his eyes, Zero gave her an affectionate look, “I missed you.”
She sneered, “Wish I could say the feeling was mutual.”
He non-verbally agreed with her, a short tilt of his head to one side. With three steps, he knelt by her, touching her face, “Its a shame your in laws want you dead so much. I would have loved to have taught you the trade.”
The trade. As if it were carpentry, or something equally as innocuous. Eva felt bile rise to the back of her throat as she contemplated being trained and mentored by this man.
Unable to help it, Eva asked the question that had been on her mind since she’d figured out he was after her, “How long since you took the bounty?
His mouth quirked, “About five years. I told them I would need to play the long game.”
She’d been in Nevada at that time, in a vast desert instead of lush forest. Eva nodded, her eyes dropping.
“But, as for my plans,” he sighed, standing, “I thought I would indulge myself, just this once.” He moved over to the syringes, “The family perfected the serum. It will go to market in about two years, once clinical trials are complete.”
Eva’s blood ran cold. She stopped breathing as she stared at the syringe he held up for her inspection. No...
“You remember what your heats were like with Joshua, don’t you?” he asked, kindness in his tone, if not in his intentions, “He used to tell me about how he’d leave you tied to the bed for hours, crying to be fucked.”
She remembered. It was his little game that he played with her cycle-denying her nesting time, denying her fulfilled heats. Eva had worked very hard to process and move on from those heats, had thought she’d moved past them. And, now, before he killed her, he was going to do it again. She could not contain the horror she felt as she looked at the needle.
Zero gazed at her, pity in his expression, “I am not Joshua, and I will not leave you in such a way. In fact, my plan, since you want to know, is to knot you in front of the alpha you’ve claimed as yours. I’ll break the bond, I will break you, and then I will kill you both—as a mercy, you see.”
Eva very carefully kept her eyes on Zero, though she so wanted to know how Horacio was reacting. She forced her heart to slow and forced her breathing to remain as calm as possible. An overtly emotional response would be a mistake.
“I am on a limited time schedule, Birdie. I think I’ll give you the first dose now.”
As he leaned down, she kicked out hard, trying to dislodge the syringe. He caught her leg and pushed up the material of her shorts, sticking her with it. The movement was fluid, so much ease that it had to be practiced. Practiced, but not gentle. Eva screamed, throwing her head back against the pole behind her.
Zero pulled the needle back, capping it, “This’ll start the hormonal reactions. I’ll give you the other two doses in about ten minutes, okay?”
It was not okay. It would never be okay. Eva glared at him, fighting hard to keep her tears from overflowing her lids to fall over her cheeks.  She was only moderately successful, a single tear escaping the control she exerted.
And then he was turning and heading up the stairs, leaving them to their devices.
“Eva,” Horacio urged, “I’m going to try to break this chair.  When I tell you, I need you to scream. Scream loud.”
She looked at the chair, and then at him. He was so strong, she thought he might be able to do it. Nodding, she breathed deep.
“Three, two, one.”
Eva yelled, as loud as her throat would go. He jerked, rocking on the legs.
“Again.”
More yelling, more struggle.  They did this three or four more times, until her voice cracked and she had to stop.  He’d made only moderate gains, the legs rocking a little bit under his weight. Little by little, he loosened them, until they looked like they might detach from the body of the chair. When Eva had just begun to feel hope, the door opened and Zero came sauntering down the stairs.
He took them in, took in her red face, Horacio’s deadly glare. He looked, and he smiled.
“I see we’re getting along quite well.”
Without preamble, he reached for the second syringe, “But, you, Birdie, you’re not quite where you should be. Far too alert.”
Eva sneered, “Maybe your shit doesn’t work.”
His smile faltered just a hair, “No, I made sure the batch was good. Came across a nice little omega just outside of the border. It works. You have always been unusually stubborn, Eva. I should not have expected any different.”
Taking two steps forward, he knelt, grabbed her leg, warded off the kicks from her other leg, and stuck her.
“Let’s see how that does, hmm?”
Horacio spoke, his voice even, “Does that make you feel like an alpha, Zero? Hurting women?”
Zero leveled an amused look at him, “No, it doesn’t. Killing them, yes. But, hurting them, not in the least.” Then, “Do you want to know how I’ll do it?”
“You’re not going to get that far,” Horacio declared, his eyes narrowed to slits.
Zero ignored him, walking over to the table where he’d set Horacio’s gun, “I’m going to shoot her with your gun. Lucky for Eva, I don’t have time to use my knives, so the gun will have to do. I’ll shoot her, and then I’ll shoot you. So simple.”
Eva’s heart pounded, her skin growing clammy. A telltale cramp pushed its way into her stomach. She nearly vomited.
Zero inhaled lasciviously, “Looks like we’ve got a winner.” Fairly skipping over to Eva, he leaned over her, “How are you feeling?”
She glared up at him, mouth thin, “Like I’m going to kill you.”
He laughed, “You haven’t changed at all, Birdie. But, unlike your late husband, I don’t have the luxury of underestimating you.”
Setting the gun back where he’d originally laid it, Zero picked up another syringe and injected her without a word. Eva flinched bodily. It wouldn’t be long before she’d start feeling the effects. She’d slow down, fatigue overcoming her, and then her entire world would spin completely out of control.
“Now that you’re cooperative, let’s get you into position.”
She tried to fight back, tried to struggle, but he manhandled her, loosening the cuffs and flipping her to her belly before yanking her wrist around the pole and refastening them.
“I’m going upstairs to freshen up. You wait here, I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he was gone, Horacio was talking to her. She could hear the scratch of the chair moving as he told her to hold on, that he would get her free, that he would take care of Zero. She focused on it, fighting to breach the surface of her brain. His scent was sharp in her nose, rising above the scent of the other alpha in the house. Eva shivered, choking back a whine.
Blowing out a breath, Eva felt her mind clear just enough for her to pull her knees underneath her. Inching the cuffs up, she used them as leverage to help her stand, until she was leaning heavily against it, forehead pressed to the wood. Sweat dripped down her neck, but she was otherwise alright.  If she could focus, she could work on getting free.
“Fight through it, Eva,” he ordered, and Eva snapped to attention, unable to deny him, even in this state, especially in this state.
Focusing as best she could, she spread her hands over the pole, testing if it was loose, looking for some thing to help her get free. Starting from the bottom of her reach, she worked upwards, feeling...feeling.
The nail. Above her head, maybe six inches, was the nail that had once held the other end of the drying line. A thin thing, half rusted, and sticking out enough that it might work.  Eva shuffled around the pole, working to align the cuffs with it.  With one ear trained to the door, she did blindly what she had done many times before. Push, tilt, pull. The cuff fell free.
The door opened. She squeaked, ambling around the pole and looping the loose cuff over three fingers, holding so that he wouldn’t initially see that she’d slipped it.
“I honestly can’t believe you’re standing. Really, I’m impressed. You are a treasure, Birdie.”
Eva snarled, turning her head to look at him. She could smell Horacio from where he sat—his sweat, his pheromones, everything. Eva had to dig her hand into the rough wood of the pole to keep from groaning. Focus.
“Nonetheless, in a few minutes, you’re going to be prime for a knot. It won’t matter whose cock you have in you, you’ll be begging for it.”
Zero approached, hands on his hips, admiring her. Eva turned her head over her shoulder and tried to spit at him. He laughed that stupid laugh that she’d been hearing all along and she hated him for it.
Spinning, Eva let loose of the cuff, swinging it first down and then up, catching him underneath his jaw. Using the butt of her hand, she shoved it home with a satisfying crunch. Then, she braced her hand on his shoulder and yanked as hard as she fucking could, pulling his jaw free from the joint and sideways, dislocating it entirely.
Zero screamed, falling to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. Almost without thinking, Eva grabbed for Horacio’s gun and took aim.
Hesitating for only a moment, Eva took the time to make sure he knew who was killing him, “Goodbye, Alexei.”
One shot. One kill.
The sound of it rang in her ears and Eva found that she had a hard time moving after that. Something in her body had acclimated enough to whatever he’d given her that she was seeing clearly, but it was as if her mind desperately needed a time out.
“Eva, get the keys from his pocket.”
She knelt, eyeing Zero’s cracked open skull as she pulled the keys out and unhooked the cuff still hanging from her wrist. Then, she moved to Horacio—one, two, three, four sets of cuffs opened, and then he was gathering her in his arms in a fierce embrace.
“You did so good,” he cooed, kissing over shoulders and cheeks, his hands keeping her close.
Eva’s breath stuttered, and she knew she only had so long before her body couldn’t keep up with the drug in her system. She was fighting it hard, though. Everything she knew about the serum was from either fifteen years previous or the little bit of information Zero had given her. She was warm, she was a little aroused, but she had more control over her body than she anticipated. For this, she was grateful.
He leaned away from her, “I need to take care of him, and then I need to get you to a medic.”
Too weak to argue with him, Eva let Horacio lead her upstairs, and then up to the bedroom where he laid her down on the bed. Very deliberately, he opened the panic room.
“If you need to, go in here. It locks from the inside.”
And then he was gone, doing God knows what with Zero’s body. Eva stared at the ceiling, wrapped in the comfort of their bed. She’d left the windows open that morning and the sound of the surf filtered in.  A light breeze blew across her skin, sending a shudder down her spine. She swallowed, everything in her body beginning to tingle. She could feel herself getting wet, her folds swelling outwards for attention. Rolling to her side, she took deep breaths, moaning when all she could smell was him. He was in the sheets, in the pillow she laid on.
Eva didn’t know how long she lay like that, the arousal climbing steadily higher, her body trying to figure out how to process the chemicals.  She pressed her knees together, fingers curling in the sheets.  Deep calming breaths evened out as she drifted, falling into almost a meditative state.
Hot, sweating, needy, her mind following along a familiar path of fantasy, she could almost feel him kissing the skin of her shoulder, hands slipping under her arms to hold her to him. A firm grip lifting her leg so that he could slide up and into her until his hips pressed into the curve of her ass. Eva whimpered, knowing that it would feel so good to be split open, that the pressure of his cock would ease this building ache in her body.
He might try to take it slow, as was his won’t in the first few minutes of their lovemaking. She could already hear herself begging for more, harder, faster. With her hormones going wild, her body leaking all over him, he might indulge her, pushing her to her stomach and holding her down with one hand between her shoulder blades. He might pump into her as hard as he had the night he’d initiated the bond, until she could feel his knot at her entrance with every thrust. He might grind into her, until he could push it inside with a soft ‘pop’ that locked them together. He might come helplessly inside her, thumb rolling over her clit until she pulsed around him.
Eva woke with a strangled gasp, nearly a scream. The room was too hot, she was sweating through her clothes. Her jaw hurt from clenching, her fingers flexing with difficulty. She was so, so close. On a knife’s edge. Eva cried out, pulling at her hair. This wasn’t like the other heat, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It hurt in a way that wasn’t natural. Tears fell over her cheeks and she wiped them away.
Footsteps sounded up the stairs, a hurried pace. Horacio appeared in the doorway, dwarfing the entrance, his face a mask of concern.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
Eva shook her head, reaching out for him. He could soothe this. He could make it better. Slowly, he approached, already lifting a hand to grasp at her.
“Amorcita, tell me you’re alright.”
Eva nodded, unable to speak. Just the touch of his skin felt like coming up for air after having sat at the bottom of a pool too long. He sat down next to her on the bed, arms coming up to hold her.  She pushed as far as she could into his embrace, inhaling as much of her sent as her lungs could hold. It helped enough that she felt muscles she hadn’t known were tensed relax.
He ran a hand through her hair and down her back, “I need to get you to a medic.”
Eva huffed, “Its a mile hike to the road and several hours’ drive. I won’t make it.”
“I can get you there,” he retorted, pulling back to look her in the eye, “I can.”
She leaned in and kissed him chastely, “You can’t. I don’t think I can even walk.”
This was the truth. Her legs felt like jelly, the muscles ticking. On his chest, her hands were shaking.
“Its gonna get worse before it gets better,” she murmured, “How long has it been?”
Horacio checked his watch, “About an hour and a half.”
An hour and a half.
She blinked. Eva should have been writhing by now, begging, the heat overcoming her.  Eyes lifting to the ceiling, she thanked whatever deity listening that she’d screwed her hormones up so much in her younger years. It had certainly helped in the long run.
She cramped, one hand touching her belly, “I’m on the upswing. Usually, I’d say I’ve got about two to four hours until full heat, but I honestly have no fucking clue.”
Another cramp. This time worse.
“I think its accelerating.”
His expression was pained, his eyes flicking over her body, as if trying to figure out how to help. His nostrils flared, and she watched as his pupils dilated. Drawn in by the shift in his scent, Eva touched her mouth to his cheek, his jaw, forehead, and lips. His taste, already one of her favorites, was richer with the fluctuation of their hormones. She dipped into him, running her tongue over the inside of his lower lip.
He groaned, hand at the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. The feeling burned through her, igniting her already unstable nerves, until she was leaning helplessly into him. She pushed her hands into his hair, loosening the hold of his pomade. Against her mouth, he moaned, his hands pushing under her t shirt.
Too quickly, he pulled away, “Eva, stop.”
She keened, reaching for him again.
“Stop,” he said again, “I can’t do this.”
Eva, breathing hard, asked, “Why?”
He looked as her, incredulous, “You’ve been drugged, Eva. I watched him inject you with—I...you’re drugged. I can’t do this to you while you’re drugged.”
Her mind took a hard left, trying to work out what the fuck he was so worried about.  This was a heat, he was her alpha, there shouldn’t even be a discussion.
“Its fine,” she breathed, hands wandering up his arms.
He caught them, holding them down on her thighs, “Its not fine.”
When got up and headed for the door, Eva felt herself give an involuntary yell, her hand reaching after him. Not again. Not. Again.
“Please,” she bit out, “Please don’t leave me here alone. Please don’t make me go through this alone.”
Horacio turned and looked at her for a long moment, and she could see the wheels of his mind turning. She waited as patiently as she could, unable to really sit still, her body fairly vibrating with need.
Then, she watched the decision settle over him. His shoulders squared, his jaw set. Taking one step to the side, he leaned down and pulled the chair from the corner a little, angling it so that he had a clear view of the bed.  Sitting, he rested his forearms on his knees, eyes darkly expressive.
“I’m going to sit right here. You’re going to stay on the bed. Understand?”
She nodded eagerly, ready to take whatever he was willing to give her. The air in the room electrified with the knowledge that she would not be going through this artificial heat alone. He would be with her, if not directly by her side.
He drew in a deep breath, eyes closing a little as he scented the air, “You do what you need to do, whatever you need. I’ll be right here with you.”
Eva’s cheeks colored, “You want me to—.”
Horacio gave a little affirmative hum, “Just like you did a few weeks ago.”
Her body pulsed, tongue licking along dry lips, “I don’t know…”
He nodded, wrist turning over, fingers extending, “Lay back.”
She did as he asked, trying to get her body to relax against the mattress. He shifted in the chair and she glanced down her body at him. He’d leaned back, arms draped over the armrests, legs spread so that she could see that he wasn’t unaffected by the situation.
Heartened, Eva touched her stomach, feeling it quiver in response to the stimuli. Clumsily, she unsnapped her shorts and pushed them down along with her underwear. They landed with a soft thud on the floor.
He drew in a sharp inhale when she spread her legs, letting her hips open naturally. His scent floated over to her—aroused, hungry. She let it roll across her tongue as she gingerly pressed four fingers to her mound, massaging gently. Eva was embarrassingly wet, her fingers sliding so easily that there almost wasn’t enough friction.
Control shattering, she lost herself in the momentum, in the motion of circling her clit to get the first orgasm out of the way. With her free hand, she pushed in two fingers, then three, trying to get a little pressure going from the inside.
Panting, Eva’s hips rolled, her back arched, her feet digging into the mattress below—she couldn’t get there. Desperate, she picked up the pace, until her forearms ached with the repeated motion.
A sob left her, and she stopped, hands clenching the sheets, “I can’t.”
“You can,” he drawled from too far away, “You can.”
Head whipping from side to side, Eva called out his name, the fire burning hotter, the pain rising. Tears formed in her eyes as she flung herself over to her belly, face pressed into the sheets. His scent was there, a little faded, but still there. Eva cried into it even as her hips flexed against the bed, seeking relief. The smell of him soothed her mind a little, igniting along her body.
“What do you need?” He asked, sounding just this side of panicked. “Did you bring your toy?”
She laughed, amused and frustrated at the same time, “No. I didn’t think I would need it.”
That earned her an unwilling chuckle, then, “What do you need?”
You, she thought. I need you.
The rational part of her mind, what little of it that was still functioning, was grateful for his consideration. The animal part of her, the omega in her, wanted to rail at him for not simply taking what was his in the first place. She needed him. She needed him. She needed…
Eva sat up so fast that Horacio flinched, his body pushing back against the chair, “Give me your shirt.”
A fresh scent, something still warm from the heat of him. That might do it.
When he hesitated too long, she whipped out a hand, flicking her fingers to indicate that she wanted it right now, “Your shirt, Horacio.”
His mouth parted, eyes a little glazed, and then he was reaching behind him to pull the polo over his head. He threw it at her and she caught it. Fuck, but it smelled good. Just like him. Her eyes rolled back as she fell to the bed, rolling over it and rubbing her face against the material. From his perch, Horacio growled lowly, but he didn’t move.
Another roll took her to the head of the bed, cosseted by the pillows. It was then that Eva had an idea that she wouldn’t have dared to execute at any other point in her life. Pulling one of the pillows beneath her spread thighs, she straddled it.
...feels too good when you ride me...
Holding his shirt to her nose, Eva began to roll her hips against the firm mass beneath her. Her slick soaked into the material, and the sound as she dripped more and more onto it was very nearly obscene. She squeezed her thighs, pushing the pillow up and into her, giving her a little extra pressure. Every thrust forward pushed her higher, until she had to brace her hands either side of the pillow, the shirt stretched over the mound.
Eva might have said his name, might have said any number of things, but her brain was mostly shut off, leaving only the primal need to come. It rose steadily, helped along by her fingers shoving inside roughly. It was the looking back that tipped her over, the looking over her shoulder and seeing him watching her. His eyes were focused on the sway of her hips, his hands clenching the armrests to keep himself immobile. Her strong alpha, her beautiful man enduring this in consideration of her needs.
It hit her hard enough that she yelped, her face scrunching, arms giving out. Eva rubbed her nose in the shirt, gathering as much of him into as she could while her cunt clenched on nothing but her too small fingers.
As soon as the contractions died down, the cramps started again. Exhausted, she rolled to her back, taking the shirt with her. It draped over her body and between her thighs. She took several deep breaths, trying to get her bearings as the need began its rapid ascent to spiral out of control.
Biting her lip, Eva reached down again, fingers tangling in the material. The sensation, the friction of the fabric as it slid across her skin was more than magnificent. It was exactly what she needed. Both hands buried in it, Eva pressed down hard, rocking up into the shirt.
She was soaking it, her juices flowing until they pooled in the hollows of her thighs and beneath her. Everything spun, her body reaching once more for the apex. Eva rubbed faster, using the shirt to gain just the right grind, until she came again moaning his name.
Somewhere after orgasm number four, Eva passed out. She wasn’t sure for how long, but it was almost dark when she awoke, the evening sun shining with purples and oranges through the bedroom window. Head lolling to the side, she looked at Horacio. He was sitting exactly where he had been when this all began, head resting on one fist, eyes dark and searching.
She tried to speak, her voice croaking. Clearing her throat, she asked for water. Robotically, he rose and went to the en suite, returning with a cup. She half sat up, leaning heavily against the headboard. Gently, he helped her drink, giving her little sips, his hand cupping the back of her head.
When she had drained the cup, Eva grasped his wrist and gave him a little encouraging pull. Hesitantly, he sat near her, though he was definitely looking for signs of another wave.
“I think its over,” she said. “I feel...I think its over.”
Horacio scanned her face, touching just beneath her chin.  Seemingly satisfied, he slipped off his shoes and socks and joined her on the bed, pulling her to lay with her back against his chest. Propped up against the headboard, he held her for a long time, until there was almost no light left in the sky. Oddly, he reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, the warm amber glow filling the room.
Once the fog had cleared just a little, Eva lifted up and pulled off her t shirt and bra.  They were sweat soaked and chafing her still sensitized skin. She lay back against Horacio with a sigh, earning herself a little strangled groan as he took her in. His hands brushed gently over her, far more gently that he probably wanted to, if the erection digging into the small of her back was anything to go by.
In her stupor, she’d noticed that he hadn’t moved, that he hadn’t touched himself through the whole ordeal. He was still hard, leaking enough that there was a circle of damp, darkened, fabric to the side of his fly. Her affection for him, already too intense by her own standards, swelled even more.
Head rolling, she kissed his jaw, giving it just the littlest nip. He pulled away, her name a warning that held no bite. Her arms covered his, wrapped around her middle. She skimmed them down to his hands, threading through them. Pressing down, Eva increased the pressure until his palms were flat against her, urging one to knead at her breast, the other to travel down. She felt him inhale, felt his whole body tighten up, knew he was fighting for control. Very slowly, she flexed her fingers over his, curling them into her center, still wet.
Twitching, he pulled his hands back, dropping them to his sides, “Its not over.”
She smiled, letting her head fall back to his shoulder even as she circled her clit very, very slowly, “It is.”
“No,” he countered, though his hips pushed up against her, “You’re still...fuck, you’re still…”
The sentence cut off, his head knocking back against the headboard as he fisted the sheets on either side. Eva, already laying most of her weight on him, pushed a little more into his body, feeling his cock throb.
“Do you want me to stop?” She asked.
He paused, his chest heaving, “No, you can keep—just, don’t...don’t touch me. I won’t be able to stop myself if you touch me.”
Eva smiled, biting her lip. Daintily, she lifted each leg and draped it over his thighs, hands already working. He arched over her, eyes dropping down so that he could watch, though he steadfastly did not touch. Knowing that this was going to end fast, Eva let her fingers swirl, whining a little when he spread his knees, stretching her wide.
She would be lying if she said she was only working to get herself off. Her body was so primed for it that it would take next to nothing to come all over again. This, though, this was also for him. She needed to show him how much he meant to her, how much she felt when he was near.
“I wouldn’t have done it,” she murmured, forehead slotting into the bend of his neck.
Hissing, he bit out, “Done what?”
Though he was attempting valiantly to remain still, Horacio was pushing his cock up and into her, a stilted, stuttering motion that she focused on, picking up his rhythm so that he got as much sensation out of every thrust that escaped his iron control.
“Begged for it,” she said. “He said I’d beg for him. I wouldn’t have.”
His eyes closed, and she could tell that he was tamping down the anger that mentioning Zero evoked. She hurried ahead, wanting to give him something he so deeply deserved.
“Yours is the only cock I would have begged for. He could have shot me full of ten syringes, and I’d still only want you to knot me.”
That was it. That’s what did it. Head thrown back, Horacio came on a rough yell, looking almost pained as he thrust against her. His released triggered hers, her first and middle finger circling her clit wildly.
It took a long time for their breathing to return to normal. He’d pulled her up a little on his chest, raining kisses down on her face, her hair, her neck, everywhere he could reach. Eva laughed, even as he shuffled out from underneath her, helping her to stand so that he could walk her to the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the tub as he filled it, both of them sinking into the water.
She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, Eva was waking in the middle of the night. The sound of the ocean was coming in through the still open windows, and Horacio was relaxed in sleep beside her. She pushed an errant curl from his face, thinking that her heart would burst with how just how much she felt for this man.
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dayseternal-blog · 4 years
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A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM. A long bus ride into and out of town. Two teens, shy beside each other.
Written for NaruHina 2020 August - Cultures/Around the World
Rated G
Inspired by “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery (emmykay)
Here we go, a story I've worked on since November of last year. Despite the months of creation, this story is simply boy meets girl. This one is close to my heart, and I've second-guessed posting it.
It's loosely based on my parents' high school stories and how they met, and the experiences from many recorded accounts of people from that generation, the 1970s. I wrote this mostly with the intention of diving into and imagining their time period.
Finally completed, of course it’s late for August, in true spirit, I stay on island time.  This story is titled after “About You” by Cecilio & Kapono, a 1975 Hawaiian pop classic.  
One Shot - About You
The bus bumps and lurches on the potholes.
She notes when they pass by a friend’s house, lit only by the dim orange street lamps over dark driveways.  There are so few cars out on the road that every time the bus pulls over and the door opens, she can hear the high-pitched hum of crickets in the grass.  It’s all a familiar rhythm that might have put her to sleep on any other night.  But she already took a long nap, readying her internal clock for the new schedule.
She’ll be taking this route for the rest of the summer, heading from the bus stop next to the local library straight to the cannery.
It feels alright, better than she was expecting.  She was worried it would feel lonely--her friends are all working the cannery, too, but in the daytime.  She wanted the extra nickel the night shift earns, bringing her up to $1.40 per hour.  
She’s always thinking ahead--the more money she manages to save now for business college, the less she will need to work later.
The bus slows down to a stop, picking up probably the last passenger before it gets on the freeway straight to town.
She relaxes into her seat, settling in for the drive out of the suburbs.
“Hinata?”
That’s weird that someone would know her at this hour.
She turns her face away from the window and sees him standing in the aisle, as if he was about to sit down in the row in front of her.  “N-Naruto?”  She regrets her stutter.  She just wasn’t expecting to see him.  At all.  
“Hey!  Howzit?”  He looks genuinely surprised to see her, too.
“Good...”  She returns his bright grin with a shy smile of her own.  She tucks a lock of loose hair behind her ear.  “I’m heading to the cannery.”
“You working cannery, too?”
“Yeah...are you?”
“Yup.  Gotta make dat extra nickel, yeah?”  He smiles disarmingly as she nods, and he takes a seat.  
She wants to relax.  But she can’t.
Because it’s him.
All 5 feet 9 inches of beautiful boy sitting in front of her on a relatively empty bus.  He’s taller than the average local Japanese, due to his hapa blood.  And as if height wasn’t enough to make him attractive to all the girls, he’s funny.  And clever.  Athletic and nice.  A little rascal, but that only increases his charm.  She has so much adrenaline pumping through her from that one tiny conversation, she knows she’ll be exhausted before they even get to Honolulu Harbor.
-
The forewoman, a middle-aged Portuguese lady, takes her and another girl named Tenten to the lockers.  “Wear dis.”  She passes them a white apron and hairnet.  “You girls get gloves?”
They both nod, pulling out their plastic gloves, required in the job description.
The lady glances at the gloves, bored expression unchanging.  “Follow.”
Hinata tucks all of her hair up into the net, and she knows she probably looks like an enoki mushroom, dressed now all in white.
They follow the forewoman to the assembly floor.
“Here.”  She hands them knives with the same carelessness of someone who’s been doing this for ages.  “Take all da extra skin off cuz da machine no get ‘m all, look, but gotta do ‘m fas’ kine ah.  No let da pines go down widdout cleaning ‘m,” she explains, pointing and waving at the conveyor belt.  
Hinata nods.  Four girls stand silently before a machine that’s spitting out bright yellow, skinned pineapples.  They grab at them quickly, and then with practiced flicks of their wrist, they nick off the remaining bits into slots for the rubbish.  They put the pineapples back down on the belt, where the fruit runs along to another set of girls, who give them another checkover.  Further down, the fruit runs into a machine with circling blades that chop them into slices.  
Rows and rows of young women dressed in white aprons with mushroom-netted heads stand around conveyors and machines.  
Young men cross over the upper ladders and walkways carrying pineapples to dump into the machines and sticks to poke at the fruit in the chutes to prevent jamming.  
The smell of pineapples is pervasive, sickly in its sweetness.
Not too much later, a bell shrills throughout the warehouse, and she’s taking over for a girl who’s now off-duty.  She grabs at the pineapples, turning the weighty fruit over in her palm and cutting brown spots of skin off with the knife as quickly as she can.  Droplets of pineapple juice stick to her gloves, and soon enough, the juice is dripping down the latex.
She’s not thankful for the gloves for long.
The juice runs down, and every stretch of her arm to grab at the fruit or place it back down feels sticky in the crook of her elbow.
Minutes turn into hours of watching pineapples.
She has no idea how the world eats so many pineapples.  
How is it possible that people love pineapples this much?  That the machinery is rarely turned off?  That all of the state’s teenagers are employed every summer to work the fields and machines practically 24/7?  
As unfathomable as it is, she finds a strange awe for the tropical fruit that she never had before.  To pass the time as she trims the skin, she imagines where these pineapples are going.  Who’s going to buy these pineapples.  What country they’ll end up in and what language the people speak there.  And whether they have ever seen a whole pineapple before.
But then again, maybe they’re all just going to the Mainland.  Women who look like the movie stars with perfectly curled, blonde hair will open the cans for their families.
The bell rings, the machines stop.
They have 30 minutes.
The more veteran workers zip off to the lunchroom, not waiting for anyone.
Hinata smiles tiredly at Tenten.  
“Whew,” the Chinese girl sighs.
Hinata nods in agreement.  “I never seen so many pineapples before, I think.”
“Yeah, me, neither.”  Her brows raise to emphasize the point.
-
By the time they get off at 6 in the morning, dawn is breaking, traffic is slowly building along Nimitz Highway, and she knows she must absolutely stink of pineapples.
But Naruto waves and stands beside her as they wait for the bus, as if he doesn’t care.  Maybe he can’t smell her, desensitized now after so long in the warehouse.  “Morning, Hinata,” he laughs, and the joke is not lost on her.  
She smiles weakly, only his good attitude motivating her.  “Good morning,” she manages to reply.  She’s too exhausted to feel shy about standing beside her crush.  After all, she was standing for the last several hours.  All she wants is to sit down.
“How wuz it?” he asks conversationally.
She pinches her lips into a tight frown.  “I had to trim the pines at the ginaca.”  She gestures halfheartedly with her hands, showing him the flick of an imaginary knife she used.  All night.  She’s almost certain that she’s the machine now.  “What did you do?”
“Oh, wuz pretty neat!  I jus’ had to keep da cans moving on da belt an’ stick da lids inside da kine, machine, and then the cans pop out.  I did da tops.”
She blinks at him.  Forces a weak smile out that she barely feels in her heart.  Sounds easy…  But that’s to be expected, after all, women usually handle food anyway.
“No can wait fo’ sit down, yeah!” he laughs.  He doesn’t sound tired, but it occurs to her that maybe he never does.  His natural excitement is what makes him popular in the first place.
She nods.
When the bus pulls up to the curb, Naruto lets her get on in front of him.
The bus driver pulls a face as she pays.
She frowns, a hot blush spreading over her cheeks.  She tried to clean up as best she could after her shift, but apparently, it really was all for naught.
“Go in da back!” the driver directs, none too friendly.
She does so, even though the front seats aren’t full.
Naruto laughs outright as he pays, unashamed at his own stink.  “What, uncle, wen try fo’ wash off, still stay pilau?”
“Eesh,” the driver utters in response to the teen’s cheekiness.
She doesn’t know how he’s not embarrassed, nor how he’s able to talk back to strangers like it’s nothing.  It’s just another case in point of her admiration and curiosity of him.  She picks an aisle-facing seat, and, to her surprise, Naruto sits right next to her, his knees spreading open.
She’s not as tired as she thought.
Nerves race up her legs.  She stares at her hands, which she carefully places on her knees, which are closely pressed together as ladylike as possible.  Not a single part of her touches him.  She thinks she might die if their legs touch.
And that’s how she doesn’t doze off on the long ride back home.
-
He meant to brag to his friends about working graveyard shift when he saw them that first weekend.  Sure, the hours are junk, but, Ho, should see da chicks!
Particularly the one he rides the bus with.  Hinata Hyuuga.  A small, Japanese girl.  Brains and looks.  Not to mention her unusual, light eyes, making you question her race.  But, nah, no real question about it, she’s Japanese through and through with her shy, quiet manner.  She’s someone he imagines could win the Cherry Blossom Festival pageant with her smooth skin and round eyes.  He and the guys always steal a poster of the new year’s contestants from the supermarket window.  Pictures of pretty Japanese girls’ profiles all lined up, free to admire.  She could definitely win.  If she ever tried.  But she’s not very personable.
Not that that ever stopped him from talking to whoever he wants to talk to.
Yet he ended up not mentioning anything about Hinata to his friends.  Not the next week, either.
Somehow, she just comes off as out-of-his-league.  At least, he’s certain that’s what his friends would say.  Just mentioning her would probably earn him jokes.  He’s pretty sure she’s in all the high, smart classes.  But he doesn’t know much about that--and she’s a year younger than him.  He only knows her because his social club had a gathering with hers last year, invited by Sakura.  There’re lots of pretty girls in that social club, and, unusually, it has girls over two grade levels.  Just the younger girls didn’t catch his attention last year.
Needless to say, he’s thinking about her now.
Not much else to think about while he drops lids into the machine.  It’s monotonous work, but he knows now that his job is way, way better than Hinata’s.
-Two weeks ago-
His jaw dropped when he saw her on the bus the second night.
She had covered her arms self-consciously with her hands when he got on.
Of course, that action was what drew his attention.
Bright.  Red.  Streaks and bumps.  A rash.  Mottling her fair skin in the crook of her elbows to the middle of her forearms.  Both sides.
“From da pines?” he asked incredulously.
She nodded, her eyes turning down, as if somehow the rash was a personal fault.  
He looked away, realizing his staring was only making her feel worse.  “You have da kine..sensitive skin?”  He wondered belatedly if talking about it would only make her feel worse worse.
“Umm...yeah…”  Her voice sounded even quieter than her usual.
He frowned awkwardly, though she didn’t see it.  He sat down beside her, still looking away.  “Jeez.  Das real junk.”  He swallowed back his strange feeling of guilt.  Her pain wasn’t his fault.  Her job placement wasn’t his fault.  So why did he feel like he was partially responsible...?  “Uh, dere anyting fo’ do about it?”  He suddenly felt like cringing at the sound of his own pidgin.  His heavy speech just further emphasized his upbringing compared to hers.  Someone classy like her shouldn’t be doing a job like that, right?  “‘Cuz like, can only get worse, yeah?  You get medicine fo’ put on or someting?”  He couldn’t help jabbering on and on.  When he starts feeling uncomfortable, that’s just what happens.
Thankfully, she continued the conversation.  “Mhm.  I saw yesterday some of th’ other workers wuz wearing two gloves.”  She opened her purse and pulled out a pair.  The hands were cut off.  “Like this, see?”  She pulled the glove on over her elbow like a sleeve, then pulled another, uncut one on so that they overlapped on her forearm.  
“Ho, neat idea, yeah?”  He nodded in approval.
She smiled in response.  “The juice no can get inside, I think, yeah?”
“Yeah!” he emphasized.
She smiled a little more, obviously not embarrassed anymore by her arms.
And he felt proud of himself for getting them out of that uncomfortable start to the bus ride.  Felt oddly self-satisfied that he got her to smile.  Decided right then and there that he was pretty interested in her.
But he hasn’t really made a move, yet.  The thought that she might turn him down is there.  He’s been turned down enough times that rejection isn’t really what’s bugging him.  It’s that she never seems to be in a good mood after their shift is done.  That, and he doesn’t want it to be uncomfortable for the rest of the summer in case she does reject him.  He would still have to catch the bus with her every night and morning.  Too bad his dad doesn’t let him take the car to work.  He gets it, though.  His dad needs the car to go to work.
Well, he’ll figure it out later.
The bell screams, signaling the start of their lunch break.
He joins a group of Farrington guys he befriended over the course of the two weeks.  There’re a lot of them working at the cannery, being that the high school is only a neighborhood away from the warehouse district.
“Eh, Naruto, you surf?” Omoi, a dark-skinned Filipino boy with sun-bleached ehu hair, asks.
“Yeah,” he answers, excitement bubbling.  But only on the weekends with Shikamaru and Choji.  He lives central, not at all close to the ocean, making beach trips longer than ideal.  “Why, whatchu thinking?”
A guy they call “C,” Naruto has no idea what it’s short for, leans forward.  “We go dawn patrol, Kewalo’s.”
Right after their shift, at the surf break at Kewalo Basin.  Sounds solid.  “Eh, shoots, we go!  Tomorrow den?”
“Yeah,” Omoi affirms.  “Prolly gon wash da pine stink off, yeah?”
C’s eyes widen at Omoi’s shoes, shaking his head.  “Eh, brah, I no tink so, you dripping pines ova hea, bet yo feet kill, phew!”
“You faka, you no can talk, da flies stay all buzzin’ ‘round you!” Omoi shoots back.
Naruto frowns, considering that Hinata has the same job as Omoi, one of the few guys assigned to a woman’s job.  Over the course of the job, Omoi’s shoes had soaked in pineapple juice that dripped from the cutting.  This didn’t seem to be as big a problem for Hinata, who, for some girly reason, wore sandals despite the long hours of standing.  “How come you no jus’ wea rubbah slippahs?”
Omoi shook his head with a serious expression.  “No can fo’ do dat brah.  I only get one good pair!  Already wen ruin deez shoes, no sense ruin my slippahs too.”
“Dis broke faka ova hea, he no get money fo’ buy one noddah pair from Long’s das why!” C laughs.
Naruto shakes his head, laughing out loud.  “No way you dat broke!”
Omoi turns to C, faux annoyance twisting his face.  “Eh dis haole ri’ hea like get lickins?”
Instead of looking threatened, C just humorously shoots back, “You like go, we go!”
“Go den, shoots we go,” Omoi answers, squaring up.
“Yeah den go cuz, shoots,” C threatens back.
But neither of them stand.
Naruto rolls his eyes at their idiotic banter.  Rarely is he the voice of reasoning, but he supposes it would be a different story if his school friends were here.  “Eh we go Kewalo’s shoots.”
They turn back to him, huge grins on.  “Yeah, we go!” Omoi says enthusiastically.
“Bring your board yeah?” C reminds him as the bell rings again.
“Yeah!”
He tells Hinata that he can’t go back with her the next day, and she just nods and smiles.  Tells him to have fun.
And it’s a slight relief to not worry about the ride back home with her.  He’s starting to feel like maybe she’s expecting him to ask her out since they spend so much time together.  Well, really, he’s expecting that of himself, but he just can’t right now.
She’s just not any other girl at school in these current circumstances.
-
Hinata never meant to be one of those girls.
One of those girls, picked up on a stretcher and taken to the medical room to recuperate.
But on the first day of her period, she was exactly one of those girls.
She was feeling so tired.  Legs like jelly.  Sore up her thighs.  Aches digging around her lower back.  A weighty twisting in her core.  A heavy day.  It made her feel lightheaded.
The pineapples, one after another, going by, making her feel a little dizzy, like maybe she needed to close her eyes.
Shutting her eyes for a second didn’t help.
A breath, two breaths, intentional breaths.
She felt like maybe she was going to make herself start hyperventilating, the opposite of what she wanted.  She wanted to breathe normally.
Focus on the pineapple.
It felt too heavy in her hand.
Her focus sliding off the pineapple, to the sticky yellow glint of the knife.  Back to the pineapple.
She looked up, dazed, her eyes taking too long to adjust to a point on the far wall.
“Hinata, you alright?” Tenten asked.
She tried to refocus on the girl on the opposite side of her.  She nodded, blinking, trying to concentrate on their job.
“You don’t look alright.”  Her voice was too loud, like everything else going on.
Too loud, pounding.
She closed her eyes, heat searing her temples.
-
“-nata?  Hinata?”
She slowly gains consciousness, to find Naruto looking down at her.
“You okay?  You wen faint dey said.”
“Oh,” she manages to utter, trying to get her bearings as the room and bed take shape in her mind, blinking away the dazed vestiges of sleep.  “W-what time is it?”
“Our shift only pau now.”
“Oh.”
“You feeling okay?”
She slowly sits up, nodding.  “Yeah.”  She must not have been out for that long.  She really thought she would make it to the end of the night.  “Were you waiting for me?” she asks, suddenly panicked at the realization that he is here with her.
“Ah, nah, nah.  I come in jus’ now.”  He gestures at the door.  “You weren’ out dere, so I jus’ wen ask somebahdy.  Dey said you wuz in hea.”
“Oh.”  That’s good that he wasn’t waiting for her to wake up, but, still, she never expected him to do something like this.  “You didn’t have to.”
He shrugs.  “No problem.  Ready fo’ go?  Can walk or..?”
She nods, scooching off the bed-like table.
And he walks with her to check-out with one of the heads, and then back to the bus stop.  Waits with her there.  And when it’s obvious that he’s going back with her despite the longboard he’s been holding this whole time, she haltingly brings it up.  “You not...going surfing?”
He shakes his head carelessly.  “Nah, I go tomorrow.”
She ducks her head, biting her lips.  “I’m sorry.”
“Nah, nah, waves not hitting today, so.”  He shrugs, looking past her for the bus.
Obviously an outright lie, but she accepts it over drawing out such an uncomfortable situation.
“You no feel good today?”  He sounds honestly concerned.
“Um, I felt fine earlier.”  Well, in truth, she felt okay.  The normal period cramps.  As okay as a heavy day can be.
“You not sick?”
She shakes her head.  She wants to sit down.  The bench has the older workers sitting down, so she never gets to sit until the bus comes.  She shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve the weight from her hips and pelvis.
It’s such a relief when the bus comes.  She ignores the bus driver’s daily grimace and makes for the back row as quickly as she can.
He watches her sit down, audibly sigh, and her whole body kind of just melts into the stiff chair.  It’s obvious that out of all the days so far, she’s the most tired today.
Or has she been like this?  He just didn’t know because he’s been avoiding her in the mornings?
Ten minutes into the long ride, he’s thinking that it’s a good thing he’s going home with her today because…he thinks she’s falling asleep.  Her head keeps jerking in his peripheral vision, so he decides to stop being considerate and turn to look straight at her.
Her eyes are drooping heavily, she’s blinking really hard...she is falling asleep.  Or, trying really hard not to.
“Hinata.”
“Huh?”  Her eyes fly wide open, obviously forcing herself.
“Sleep, I go wake you up later.”
Her cheeks redden.  “Oh, no, I’m fine.”
She doesn’t trust him, or…what?  She’s embarrassed?
“You sure?”
She nods.  “Yeah.”  Her voice sounds too breathy to be fine, but if she says so...
It’s no surprise to him when her body starts slumping over, her head weighing the rest of her body down and toward the seats in front of them.
She’d be even more embarrassed about this position, right?  So he reaches over to grab both her shoulders and kind of push her back upright.
Well, that’s what he meant to do.
Her eyes open as if spooked, and she straightens out of his hands.  “Sorry!” she gasps.  Expression all pinched, she looks like she feels really ashamed.
About what, though?  If anything, he feels bad about how tired she is.  “No,” he reassures.  “No worry ‘bout me.”  He’s trying his best to sound comforting…  “Should get some rest, s’okay, I go wake you up befo’ my stop.  Trus’ me.”
Her eyes squint, like she’s straining to focus.  “...maybe.  But I don’t like sleep..on da bus.”
He can’t help a laugh.  “Ha, you look like you goin’ give yourself da kine whiplash back-an-for'-li’ dat, jus’ relax.”
“Mm…”  A noncommittal answer, but one that doesn’t argue, so he can’t push the issue any further, either.
They settle back into the sound of the engine roaring along the highway, and pretty soon, her body’s starting to lean over again.  He refrains from helping her, even though she looks uncomfortable.
She looks like she’s going to wake up with a sore neck.  Her blood’s probably rushing to her head in that position.  That’s not good, right?  She literally just had a fainting spell not too long ago.  So having her head lean against the rattling window pane wouldn’t be ideal, either.  Since they’re sitting at the back, she might really conk her head hard if the bus has to stop.
With more care than the first time, he tries to guide her to lean against him.
For a moment, her eyelids and brows wiggle and bunch up, but swiftly return to their placid state.
It’s nice.
She’s nice.
He should ask her out.  She doesn’t ignore him or outwardly show any disinterest, so…sometime he’ll do it.  Just of course not today.
When he sees that he’s getting close to his stop, he calls her name, “Hinata.  Hinata.”
“Mm.”  She sits up and blinks, a hand hurriedly wiping her mouth.
Drool?  He’s trying not to smile like a goofball, but kind of failing at hiding his selfish amusement.  “I gotta get off now.  You gon’ be okay?”
She nods, making eye contact for a second, only for her gaze to immediately skitter away to some unknown point on the bus floor.
“‘Kay, you take care, yeah?”
She nods again, still refusing to look at him, her hands busy everywhere touching her face and then her hair, fixing who-knows-what.  She murmurs something.
“Huh?” he asks in a knee-jerk reaction before his brain pieces together that it sounded like an apology.  “Oh, no need say dat.”  He reaches over to pull the cord for his stop and grins.  “Maybe I see you tomorrow, yeah?”
She nods, glances up at him for a second, and looks down once more.
He gets off the bus feeling pretty good about himself in the bright morning sun.
Only to realize--
Maybe he should have made sure she got home all the way.
Maybe he should have gotten off at her stop with her.
The library isn’t really that far a walk back to his own home.
She’s probably fine, right?
She wouldn’t have fallen asleep again, right?
Why did she faint anyway?
Should he have asked more?
His consciousness won’t let up.  He could call, but if he calls, then he really probably will need to ask her out eventually.  Well, he plans on it anyway, but if he calls, then that would really solidify things, and she’d expect something from him by, like, tomorrow.  
Well, that’s all hypothetical.  If he can even find her name in the phonebook...
...He finds it.
“Who you calling?” his mom asks, teasing him, as she pops up beside him in the kitchen.  “Noddah one of your girlfriends?”
“...No…”
“Ohh, you asking a girl out?  Why you no jus’ call her?  She goin’ turn you down, ah!” she laughs, all by herself.  “Who like go out wit you, ah?”  Her laughter rings throughout the house.
He wishes he could yell at her to shut up, but then she’d go get the slipper and give him some serious dirty lickins.
So he keeps his eyes on the phonebook, and with his mom’s derision motivating him, picks up the receiver and hooks his finger into the first digit, gaining self-confidence with each pull, release, and spin of the dial.
If it’s the parents, then that’s fine.  He’ll make a good impression.  Maybe.  He doesn’t need to talk to Hinata, he just wants the family to know that she fainted.  He gets the feeling Hinata’s not the type to talk about things like that to her family.
But then...maybe the cannery already called them about it.
The dial tone ends.
He takes a readying breath.  “...Hello?”
“Hello?”  It’s a young girl’s voice.
“Is this Hinata’s house?” he continues, desperately trying to imitate a school valedictorian or maybe a teacher...
“...Yeah...Who’s this?”
“This is Naruto...I, uh, work same place, at da cannery.”
“...She’s not home, yet.  And she’s not supposed to talk to boys.”
What?  I tought she in dat social club?  “Well, I no need talk to her.  I jus’ like you guys know that, uh, she wen fainted at work, yeah.”
“...”
“...So, she should be home soon, I get off da bus a little befo’ her, I jus’ like try check she gets home okay..yeah..”
“...Okay.”  In the background, he hears a faint voice talking before the girl on the line continues, “It’s a boy.”
“Huh?”
“He’s saying Hinata fainted at work.  And that she should be home soon.”
He realizes she’s talking to someone else, so he awkwardly waits.
“Okay, ...uhhmm...”  Her voice trails out for a solid second.
She talking to me now?  “Oh, yeah?”
“Thank you, I’m gonna go meet her.  Bye.”
“Oh-”  The line cuts, his own goodbye stuck in his throat.  He places the receiver back down, uncertain what to make of that whole exchange, wondering what about it left him dissatisfied.  He did what he meant to do, after all...  That must have been a younger sister.
“Hinata?  You neva talk about her befo’,” his mom observes as she gathers her things for work.  “You met her at da cannery?”
“No, she one year youngah dan me at sku’.”
“She wen faint?  Why you neva walk her back home, ah?!”
“I no tink dat until aftah!” he defends.  “Das why I wen call!”
“You no can get one decent girlfriend acting li’dat, ah!, dis stupid son of mine, ahh, ah, if you jus’ focus on sku’ mo’, get bettah grades, get mo’ smartah, ah,” his mom tuts and laments off on a tangent, and he ignores her.
He sees her off for work at the door, his mind turning back to whether he needs to ask Hinata out tomorrow.  Especially since, “She’s not supposed to talk to boys.”  What’s that about?
-
He never does find out.  There’s no way he could ask such a question, and the summer passes too fast for him to face her plainly.  He’s not sure why, but whenever he imagines her turning him down, the idea hurts a lot more than it should.
Logically, he knows itʻs just a yes or no answer.  He’s been turned down here and there.  He’s gone on numerous dates, danced with girls, and played silly social games with the opposite sex at parties.  And concerning Hinata, she’s a year younger than him, so the chances of seeing her on campus are a lot smaller, so he wouldn’t have to face her that often if she does turn him down.
So why can’t he just ask her out?
-
She held out hope.
She thanked him profusely the day after, and he was extremely nice to her.  He went back on the bus with her for that entire following week's shifts, making sure she was okay, before he determined that she was safe enough without him.
He went back to surfing in the mornings.
The day of their last shift, she held out so much hope.
He didn’t ask her out.
So she tries to shrug it off.
The disappointment.
The deep, far too deep, disappointment.  She’s probably just not his type.
But to her surprise, that’s not the last time she sees him before school starts.
Their social clubs host a joint car wash to raise money.
She pushes down her shy feelings, knowing that if he has absolutely no interest in dating her, then there’s really no reason for her to act strangely around him.  It would simply be rude of her to ignore him after spending all summer the way they did on the bus together.  Gathering her courage, she walks up to him and calls out his name, “Naruto!  Hi!”  She smiles, hoping to appear as cheerful as possible.
“Oh!”  He turns from his friends, already knowing whose voice it was, but still caught off-guard.
She’s dressed really casually--in shorts, a shirt, and rubber slippers, obviously appropriate for the day’s work, but still strange to see on her.  He somehow thought maybe she didn’t own casual clothes like that.
“Hinata!  Hi!” he responds, a little belatedly.  He feels really stupid, somehow his grin feels unnatural, too tense.  He watches her smile again and then turn back to her friends.
Something gnaws at his consciousness, like he missed out on saying or doing something he should have done in that moment.  Ask her how she’s been in the past week?  He just saw her not too long ago, so that would be dumb to ask.
“Whose dat again?”
He blinks out of his stare and turns to Sasuke.
“Hinata.  Hinata Hyuuga.  We bo’ worked night shift at da cannery.”
“You ask her out?”
“...No, nah yet…” he admits, nerves crawling around, making him feel guilty out of nowhere.
Sasuke raises a brow.  “You like her?”
He shrugs his shoulders, frowning, trying to play off the intrusive question as nothing to him.  “...Yeah…”
Now both of Sasuke’s brows are raised.
Naruto shifts uncomfortably.  Every single second here is making him realize he should’ve gotten the deed done and over with already.  Now she’s around all of his fellow club members.  Any one of the other guys could ask her out by the end of the day.
She could take a liking to one of his friends.  He realizes that his chances were so much higher when it was just the two of them.
-
She and Sakura walk around helping to pass out sponges and buckets.  They introduce themselves to several boys, all of them very friendly.
Hinata herself feels very friendly.  After her act of courage in facing Naruto, after getting that difficult exchange done with, she feels pretty bold.
She’s in this social club to have fun!  She won’t let a little one-sided crush damper her day!
True that none of the other guys are as naturally magnetic as Naruto, but she knows that first impressions aren’t everything.  All of these guys in his social club seem perfectly nice, helping to fill and carry the heavy buckets of water for the girls.
She sets to work on a car, excitedly engaging in discussions about the new school year with whoever works beside her.  And with an observant eye, she manages to not work on the same side of a car as Naruto.
Two hours pass in laughter and good spirits, even with how the noonday sun beats down, pouring heat over the asphalt lot.
The once cool water comes out hot from the hose, and the buckets are just puddles of liquid sun she has to dunk her hand and sponge into as infrequently as possible.
The constant bending is nothing to her, though.  After a whole summer of cannery work on her feet, she’s pretty sure she’s more fit than last year.  She’s not even sweating as much as she thought she would.
Until she gets up too fast.
Her head sears hot, her vision darkening into pinpoints of bright light.
She tries to squint, to see through the sudden tunnels of black, but her eyes burn, and just as quickly, she feels off-balance, her head too heavy to hold up.
She crouches down, face in her hands, confused and pained.
“Hinata, you okay?”  Sakura, most likely.
“I can’t see.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t see,” she repeats, trying to stay calm despite the painful splotches of color beneath her eye lids.  “It hurts.”  And she feels like she’s going to pass out, but she refuses to embarrass herself like that in front of everyone.
“Oh my gosh… Water.  Water!” Sakura says louder.
“Wut’s wrong!”  Another voice.
Oh no, not that voice.
“She’s dehydrated I think!”
“Oh shit,” he curses.
Hinata sits as still as possible, focusing on not tipping over into a ball and fainting right there on the dirty, poky ground.  Not again.
“Here, water,” Sakura says, her voice stressed and concerned.  “Can you raise your head?”
“Mm.”  She slowly lifts her face and opens her mouth.
A plastic water bottle is placed at her lips, lukewarm liquid flowing onto her tongue.  She drinks it dutifully, the pain in her head clearing rather quickly.
She eventually pushes the water bottle away and wipes her lips on the back of her hand.  “Thank you,” she breathes out, relieved that her head’s weight is starting to feel normal again.  But she keeps her eyes closed, too afraid to strain her vision.  Or to see if she attracted everyone’s attention...or to find out if Naruto is still there.
“Do you feel better?” Sakura asks, still sounding way more worried than necessary.
“Yeah, thank you, Sakura.”
“Can you see?”
“I don’t know…”  She doesn’t want to test herself too soon, but she cracks her eyes open, if only to assure Sakura that she’s okay.
The world is a bright fog through the slight cracks of her eyelids.
But it doesn’t hurt.
“I’ll be able to see fine in a minute, I think.”
Sakura sighs in relief.  “Good.”
A random boy whose deep voice she doesn’t recognize asks what happened.
“She dehydrated,” Naruto answers.
Hinata doesn’t know whether to feel flattered or dreadfully embarrassed that he’s still there.
“Oh, das not good,” the other boy assesses.
“Yeah…” Naruto agrees.
“I’ll be fine in a moment!” Hinata pipes up, her personality automatically choosing to feel embarrassed.
The unknown guy makes a sound of uncertainty.
“Yeah, Hinata,” Sakura adds on.  “I don’t think you should help out right away.  You could’ve gotten heatstroke.”
“Heatstroke?” she asks.
“Dere’s no shade ‘round hea,” Naruto comments.
Hinata slowly forces her eyes to adjust, hoping to prove them all wrong.  “I can see.  I’m fine.”  She starts to get up carefully.
More sounds of uncertainty resound behind her, and she hates how all three of them are treating her like she could collapse at any moment.
Like, even if she could collapse at any moment, even if that is what just happened, she doesn’t want this to be how everyone sees her from now on.  Like some weak, stupid girl who forgets to drink water on a hot day.
Even if that is what she is.
“I can take her home.”  Naruto’s invitation has her finally turning around to face her audience.
To her relief, it’s just the three of them, Sakura, Naruto, and a pretty, black-haired Japanese boy she’s seen him hanging out with.
“Yeah, take her home,” the pretty boy says.  He claps Naruto’s arm.
Naruto gives some kind of smile that’s really cute, and Hinata has to force herself to try not to examine anything he’s said or done in the past five minutes.
He made her over-examine his behavior all summer, only for it to amount to nothing.  He’s just really nice and treats her like a good friend.  That’s all.
Sakura helps her walk to his car.
And all too soon, she’s sitting right next to him.
Naruto starts up the engine, blasting the AC so that cool air roars onto their heated faces.
“I’m sorry.”  She gulps down a knot of discomfort in her throat, already regretting so much.
“Nah, no need say dat.”  His stomach feels sore, his legs antsy.  He was trying to nonchalantly work on the cars by her, but somehow, he wonders if she was avoiding him.
She’s too nice to do that, right?  She never tried to avoid him at their summer job…
He needs to gauge her interest in him.  So after he backs out of the parking space and safely makes it into traffic, he ventures conversation.  “How you feeling now?”
She nods.  “I feel better.  I could’ve stayed, I think…”
“...Oh…”  He’s already on Moanalua Home Road, and turning around now would be humbug.  “Are you sure?”
“Mm…”  She’s not sure.  She just doesn’t want to seem so frail.
“‘S'okay, ya know?  Already get plenny help, das why, no need chance 'm.”
“Mm...okay… Thank you...I’m sorry…”
With conversation finding its natural, quick end, he finds himself wracking his brain for ideas.  He has about five more minutes with her before they get to her house.  I should ask her out...I should just ask her...just ask her…
“Oh, I like this song.”
“Hm?”  He turns the radio up, glad to focus on something outside of his brain.  “Oh, yeah!”
It’s a newish one by Cecilio and Kapono, one he imagines will be really popular at social club dances, the slow tempo is perfect.
Not knowing what else to do to fill the silence, she starts singing softly.  She can tell he’s glancing at her, but she keeps her eyes fixed determinedly forward, her gut turning to jelly as the romantic meaning registers in her mind.  “...Our small moment that we shared, Is only yours and mine, No one else is really going to know, That I care about you…”
His cheeks flush.  This song really is perfect for a social club dance.  He never paid that much attention to the lyrics, but with her soft voice singing them, the words are suddenly resonating, hitting a little too close-to-home.
“And all the questions that I asked myself about you…”
He's made up his mind.  He’s going to ask her out.
“Won’t you come and be with me…”
Right after this song.
“That if you come and stay you’re going to see, That I care about you.”
He relaxes into his seat, his grasp, unintentionally tight on the wheel, relaxes, too.  If she's comfortable enough to sing in his presence, then there's nothing stopping him from feeling comfortable, too.  It's actually really nice to know that she's willing to do something like this with him.  He's stressed out for nothing.  He's hesitating for nothing.  And maybe, if things work out, this feeling...this moment...would be normal...
She peeks at him, and...he’s smiling.  He’s not teasing, laughing, or grimacing at her.  So she continues singing, relieved.
When the song finishes, he lowers the volume, reassured, readier than ever.  “Hinata…”
She blinks, realizing they’re really close to her house, and Naruto doesn't know where to go.  “Oh!  You turn left at the intersection after this light.”
Jarred to the present, he suddenly notices his heart racing, despite how calm he felt not even ten seconds ago.  The words get lost on his tongue, and he simply follows her instructions, the opportune moment evaporating into nothing.
“It’s that house,” she points, and he slows, pulling over against the curb.
She turns to him to give her appreciation properly.
But he’s facing directly toward her, his usually cheerful expression one of uncharacteristic focus.
Her heart leaps into her throat.
“Hinata," he repeats.  "You like, go movies with me, sometime?”
She nods, speechless, because yes, yes, yes.
And he visibly relaxes.  He can breathe again.  Her agreement was so much easier than he thought it would be.  “I go check da listings den, okay?  And I’ll call you?”
She nods, eyes growing wide as everything starts to sink in.
He nods, too, an embarrassed smile working at his mouth.  “Talk to you later den, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, a smile forming in reaction.  In a fog of happiness, she steps out of the car, nearly forgetting.  “Oh, thank you for taking me home!”
He nods, thinking that this won't be the last time he makes sure she gets home.  He notices how her happy smile lights up her eyes like earlier at the carwash, but now, it’s directed at him, him only.  And once she disappears into her house, more than anything, he feels incredible relief.
And excitement.
He gets the feeling…
She gets the feeling…
This is going to last.
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hoshiangel · 4 years
Text
unexpected
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bad boy!jeonghan x y/n
theme: enemies to soulmates
word count: 1324
warnings: mentions of food, swearing
prompt: once you begin your senior year of high school, the year you will meet your soulmate is revealed to you. within that year, you are guaranteed to meet the person you’re destined to be with forever, but it’s up to you to identify who it actually is. your year is 2020, which is this current year. you begin your search to find your soulmate, but a bad boy named jeonghan messes the whole thing up.
a/n: hey guys! i got the soulmate idea when watching a tik tok, so i decided to spice it up a little bit. maybe i can turn this into a series if you want? let me know what you think, feedback is appreciated! enjoy <3 (also, pretend corona isn’t a thing in this fic hahaha)
-
september 8th, 2020, 3:10pm
“y/n, ellie-- you’re ten minutes late! this is the second time this week, next time you’re getting a warning!” your boss barked at you, while you and your best friend ellie strolled into your workplace carrying coffees and baked goods.
“sorry mr. yoon, it won’t happen again,” you replied while clocking into your shift. once your boss walked away, you and ellie couldn’t help but to laugh. every week he said the same thing to you both, and every week you were both late. 
you put your belongings in the back room and got to work quickly, so your boss wouldn’t get mad again. you and ellie worked at a local smoothie shop, simply because you got free drinks and got paid for it. plus, it was often slow so you got to talk and hang out the entire shift. although it was a job, it didn’t feel like it-- you and ellie made it fun. 
“so, should we talk about your big news?” ellie said in a teasing tone, while chopping up fresh fruit for the drinks. 
“ugh, don’t remind me. i can’t believe this is happening to me. 2020, what am i supposed to do?” you replied, pretending to wipe down the counters to look busy. 
“mr. right is coming y/n, i can feel it,” ellie said, throwing a wink at you. you rolled your eyes and just sighed. your started your senior year last week, and you were assigned the year you would meet your soulmate: 2020. this seemed nearly impossible, since you lived in a small town and everybody knew each other. all your friends had gotten years that they would have grown and moved out of this small town, but you got stuck with the worst year possible. how would you meet someone new?
you and ellie continued to work, only having a total of ten customers within the next two hours. it was halfway through your shift, and you couldn’t wait to be done. going to school during the day and working into the night wasn’t easy, but you had to do what you had to do. 
while the two of you were cleaning the floors, your boss walked into the front accompanied by a good looking guy about your age. he had shaggy brown hair, and he wore black skinny jeans paired with a baggy black shirt and vans. you could tell he really liked the color black, but it worked for him. you also noticed he had piercings all throughout his ear, and wore rings on his fingers. you weren’t going to lie, he was attractive.
“y/n and ellie, this is my nephew, jeonghan. he’s just moved in with me and will be working here to help out. please train him properly, i’ll add some extra money into your paychecks,” mr. yoon said, while giving jeonghan one of the spare aprons. you both nodded, and you introduced yourself first.
“hey, i’m y/n, nice to meet you!” you said, extending your hand out in order to be polite. jeonghan just laughed mockingly and pushed your hand to the side, which took you by surprise. what was his problem?
“look, i don’t want to be here just as much as you guys. don’t bother training me, i’ll just clean up around the store,” he said shortly, walking to get the mop to finish cleaning the floors. you stood almost frozen, confused as to what had just happened. you wanted to snap back and tell him off, but you stopped yourself because he was family of your boss. if you got on his bad side, you could lose your job. plus, it was helpful if he cleaned, you didn’t like doing it anyway. 
for the next hour, you and ellie prepared the smoothies and fruit while jeonghan did close to nothing. he cleaned the floors, but after that leaned against the counter and sat on his phone. at this point, you were absolutely fuming. it wasn’t fair he got to do nothing, especially when he promised to clean. you had to speak up.
“do you think you could do something? me and ellie are doing all the work here,” you said as calmly as possible. there was a pause, until jeonghan finally looked up from his phone.
“oh, are you talking to me? i’m the boss’ nephew, i don’t have to work,” he said with a scoff. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 
“if i heard correctly, your uncle wants us to train you. this implies you work,” you responded. he walked over to you, and got a little too close for comfort. his face was only inches from yours, and your breath hitched in your throat. his cologne was a citrus scent, and you couldn’t ignore how good he smelt.
“you must’ve misheard. i do what i want, baby. don’t try me,” he said, looking down at you. you didn’t reply, you didn’t even know what to say. you simply turned around and got back to work. you finished the rest of your work silently, even ellie didn’t have anything to say. 
at the end of your shift, you exchanged goodbyes with your boss, but jeonghan said nothing. he just sat on his phone, not a care in the world. you and ellie walked home together, since you were neighbors-- you did this after every shift.
“well, that was interesting,” ellie finally said, sipping her smoothie that she took from work.
“i can’t believe he said that to me! who does he think he is? god, i wanted to scream in his face so bad,” you yelled, letting your frustration out.
“i know, what an asshole. but hey, at least we only have to see him at work. thank god he isn’t a classmate,” ellie said. “and look on the bright side. tomorrow, we can focus more on finding your soulmate! maybe there is someone you haven’t met yet at school!” she added.
“yeah right! we know everyone, since grade school. but we’ll have to try i guess,” you said with a shrug.
“ah, that’s the spirit,” ellie said, linking arms with yours. the two of you laughed and made jokes for the rest of your walk home, which was refreshing. your shift with jeonghan was a nightmare to say the least.
“goodnight ellie, see you tomorrow!” you said as you walked to your front door.
“7 am sharp, don’t be late y/n,” 
-
september 9th, 2020, 7:07am
“shit, i’m sorry i’m late!” you yelled to ellie as you ran out your front door, your backpack slung over your shoulder and a half eaten granola bar in your hand.
“let’s goooo! i’ve got chem first period!” ellie said. you two walked to school at a quick pace, basically running, since you were already seven minutes behind. 
not to anyone’s surprise, you and ellie were late again. you had english first period, and the teacher was strict on attendance. you ran through the halls, trying to get to class as soon as possible. the hallways were mostly empty, since all the students were in class already, so you had a clear shot to run. 
as you passed the principals office, a guy came out of the door at the exact same time you were in front of it. you two collided, hard-- of course, just your luck. you ran into his shoulder and fell backwards a little bit, but luckily you didn’t fall. he didn’t fall either, but he was rubbing his shoulder in pain. 
“god, seriously? watch where you’re going,” he groaned, and you realized you had recognized that voice. you prayed that it wasn’t him-- you couldn’t deal with him at school and at work. as you slowly looked up, your worst nightmare came true.
jeonghan, standing in front of you-- ripped black jeans, baggy black t shirt, rings, piercings, and his stupid citrus cologne. 
✎ admin j
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birdsandspades · 4 years
Text
I Was Never Good at Waiting- (Sugawara x Reader) Chapter 1
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- It was your last year in highschool, everything had been going smoothly until you got assigned the new teacher. Sugawara Koushi was handsome, maybe too handsome for his own good. Be he wasn't flirting with you right, teachers shouldn't do that....I guess we will see where this year goes.
Work Count - 4,281
----
“Stand clear, the train doors will be opening shortly.” The speakers overhead rang out as you pulled into the station.
You waited for your turn to step off the train step and onto the concrete platform in front of you. Your phone buzzing in your jacket pocket as you walked up the station stairs to the streets. Turning it over, your screen illuminated with your mother's contact name. You slid your thumb over the screen and lifted the phone to your ear. 
“Hi mom.” You beamed, nodding a thank you to the man holding the station door open as you walked outside. It wasn't unusual with everything she had on her mind that she would forget important days on your schedule. But none the less you were happy she remembered today. 
“My big girl is a third year! I can remember when you were just little, hiding in between your father's legs on your first day of kindergarten!” Her laughs bounced from the phone speaker.  
You chuckled lightly at her remark while looking at your watch, 7:50 still plenty of time to get to school. Stopping at the beginning of the cross walk you watched the cars pass by as you waited your turn to cross. “How are you doing mom, how is grandpa?’’ You questioned as the light turned red and the crosswalk countdown started. 
“We are good, he's been walking around outside again. How are you kiddo, did your dad call you yet?’’ She smiled, already knowing the answer.
“No, but he did send me one of those motivational animal photos, the standard greeting.” You laughed. It was his signature text, his way of saying “I’m thinking of you, just don’t know how to say it.”
Your first destination was in sight as you rounded the corner, a small convenient store you frequented often during the school year. The roof had been repainted over the summer, the dull blue replaced with vibrant red. The door and concrete light poles painted to match. Much to your amusement the same burnt out bulb remained on the neon open sign. The P had been dark the first time you walked into the store, and had remained unlit every time since. 
“Mom, I have to go but i’m glad you called.” You rushed as you entered the store. 
“Ok, call me after school and tell me how it goes, I love you...i’m so proud of you ya know. My big girl so…” She choked on her words, on the verge of a motherly breakdown. 
“Bye mom, I love you!” You exclaimed, stopping her short of her emotional speech. You loved talking to her, but she could go on forever if you didn’t cut her off. 
Dropping your phone into your bag you scanned over the drink selection. You opened a few different cooler doors, finger hovering over the assortment of coffees before ultimately deciding on your regular cheap can. Why fix what isn’t broken? You walked it over to the counter and set it down before pulling out your wallet and setting some money into the tray, scooting it towards the clerk. 
“Hey kid, first day of school already?’’ The old man smiled as he scanned your item and took your money from the tray. 
You nodded and smiled as he handed you back your change on the tray and the can of coffee. “Sadly.” You laughed lightly, picking up everything. You thanked him, walked to the door, “Have a good day.” You waved as you pushed it open and continued your walk to the school. 
Your breakfast usually consisted of a trip to that very convenient store, and the occasional dinner, and light midnight snack. You never really had time to make breakfast and lunch for your day while getting yourself ready for school. With your parents gone most of the time you had to manage yourself. But you didn’t mind it, you understood the implications of the life your family lived.
Your father was traveling most of the year for his job as a wildlife photographer, and your mother was with your grandfather in Tokyo. She had made the decision to leave when your grandfather, her father became ill. Grandma had passed away when you were younger, too little to really remember her face, but old enough to remember the feeling of walking hand and hand with her in the gardens you tended together. Grandpa decided to keep the house and live by himself that same year. The memories weighed too heavy on you and your family to tear that away from him. 
You had told your parents it was fine to leave you with the house while they were away, you used the excuse that it would teach you responsibility. You could get a part time job and focus on your studies. You did end up doing just that, but it was also nice having the alone time so many adolescents craved. 
Slowly your school came into view as your morning walk ended. Aoba Johsai, it was the school your mother went to as a kid and now you were rounding out your years as a student as well. You walked through the gates of your school as you searched around for the group of students that would be crowding around the homeroom assignments for the year.
“F/N- chan!”You looked around, greeted by your two favorite idiots pushing past the groups of students walking through the front gates behind you.
Hiroto, a pole of a boy. He sported a pair of glasses and his usual brown bowl cut. He had looked the same since you met him, just slightly taller as the years went by. He had the same dull white tennis shoes on as he had for the past three years. You wondered why he had never gone out to buy a new pair. He had the money and the time. But he still saw the use in them, the beauty he would say. He saw that in a lot of things. That was probably why he had a permanent smile tugging at his lips. His sunny disposition on life couldn't be dampened, no matter the storm.  
Yua had been that perpetual storm. Not in the dark and gloomy sense, she was more like a hurricane. Everything she did was a whirlwind of emotions and energy. She did everything on a whim. Led by her heart, never her head. You could tell that just by looking at her. Her hair was freshly bleached, a stark change from the dark green you had seen only months before. Her hair was much shorter now as well, messily chopped just below her ears. Her appearance changed with the seasons, always slightly bolder each time. She was bold with everything she did, unwavering and powerful. But nonetheless devoted and caring to everyone around her, that was the trait that drew you to her in the end. 
Next to each other, they looked completely out of place. But together you made something special. You balanced each other out, each giving one another the friendship you all had desperately sought after in your early years. They were your best friends, your only friends. 
You had met Hiroto a few days after moving to Japan with your family. He was the son of one of your mother's fellow professors at Tokyo University. They had stuck you in a room with the quiet boy one morning during a staff meeting. He had inched toward you over the course of the hour, head tilted to the side in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the game that lit up your GameBoy screen. You had caught on after a while, getting up to sit next to him. He silently thanked you, watching you pass level after level. As time went on watching, turned into playing, playing turned into talking, and talking turned into “Mom can Hiroto come over for dinner tonight, I want to show him the dog across the street.” It had been a quick growing friendship, you two meshed together so well it was almost like he was meant to be your best friend. 
Yua on the other hand was the polar opposite. She had at one point been the worst part of your days in fourth year.
Everyday she would pick fights with you. Most days it was innocent enough, she would push you, maybe call you silly names. But you had always ignored her, unfazed by the gremlin child you were forced to interact with everyday. You could tell the lack of attention bothered her, and she was going to get a reaction out of you one way or another.
She had stated it was because your hair was all over her desk and she was tired of moving it out of the way, but you knew better. Over the course of the lesson Yua would snicker to herself, a little evil laugh echoing behind you every time you tried to move away from her. She had always been a bit strange to you, but the vocality of today's evil acts were putting you on edge. The lunch bell rang and you were ready to get away from whatever she was doing behind you. You stood up, stepping on a layer of h/c strands splayed out on the floor below your desk. You turned around, horrified by the tight grin that painted the girl's face. In her hand was a pair of craft scissors, in the other was a fistful of your hair. 
Mean words were exchanged, fists were thrown. Before you knew it you both were landed in after school detention for the foreseeable weeks to come. During those after school hours was when she grew on you. She opened up to you over the year, showing her kind and caring nature in small bits and pieces. She was still an absolute goblin most days, her nasty jealousy streak peaking through in her worst moments. But she loved and cared for everyone she met, and you saw it. She just had a chaotic, overbearing way of showing it. It took years to work your way up to the friendship you both had now, it also took years to grow your beautiful hair back to it's original glory.
“Have you looked at your homeroom assignment yet?” Hiroto smiled once he reached you.
“Not yet, I just got here a few minutes before you two.” You answered, wrapping an arm around the both of them as you pulled them into a hug.
“Aww F/N, it's been weeks since we’ve seen you. That stupid job at the coffee shop kept you away from us.” Yua frowned, groaning into your hold.
“Well it was only a summer job so you can annoy me all you want now.” You laughed, pulling them towards the crowd of students.
“Hiroto-kun, can you see any of our names, all these BEAN STALKS are blocking the way!” Yua yelled at the students crowding the listings. 
“Yeah I see all of our names by each other, we're in…homeroom...five I think.” Hiroto craned his neck to see over the heads in front of him, squinting at the small text. 
“Who's the teacher this year?” You questioned, looking up at him as he decoded the lines in front of him.
“It says Sugawara. I think he’s new, he wasn't here last year.” Sinking back onto the soles of his shoes Hiroto pulled you and Yua out of the crowd and towards the school entrance. 
“Sugawara just started this year.” Smiled a girl next to you as you made your way inside. 
“Yeah, he's supposedly pretty young, and attractive.” Her friend smiled slyly at the last bit, nudging you with her shoulder as you moved past her to your shoe locker. 
“As long as he can teach this idiot math I'm sure he will be a great sensei!” Yua laughed as she ruffled up your hair. 
“I’m not that dumb. But it would be nice if he would be nicer about my questions, unlike Shirato Sensei.” You shivered at the thought of your teacher last year. Taking off your shoes you slipped them into your locker, sliding your feet into the assigned slippers on the floor. You closed the door, the lock clicking as you turned to walk with your friends.
It was your last year at this school, your last year with your friends. You had already decided to attend Tokyo University the following year, it was a dream to finally be closer to your mother. Hiroto was destined to inherit his father's small but profitable insurance business. Yua, well who knows what she was gonna do at the end of the year, she probably didn't even have lunch figured out for the day. 
You walked with your friends as you made your way towards your classroom for the year. You were engrossed in the conversation they were having on last night's newest anime episode. You had no clue what show they were watching, or who any of the characters were. But you loved to listen to their passionate debates, the small rise Yua got from Hiroto always making you laugh. You would miss this when school was over, so you basked in it. The feeling of happiness that only they could give you. 
A hand on your shoulder turned you away from your bickering friends. Turning around, you were met with a pair of honey eyes, Yoshiki. 
“Hey, I was calling you but I don’t think you heard me.” He laughed, his eyes soft and uncertain as he looked between you and your friends. 
“Oh, i’m sorry. It's hard to hear anything over these two.” You smiled, laughing as you pointed to the two of them. The bell rang, giving you the chance of escape. You pushed your two friends on as you waved a goodbye to Yoshiki. 
He raised his hand, giving you a small wave as you rushed down the hallway.
“That was weird, does he still talk to you?” Yua questioned, looking back at the confused boy.
“No, we haven't talked since winter break last year.” You frowned as you pushed them inside the classroom. It was for a good reason, you didn’t know what to say to the boy. If you had found the words before maybe the awkward interaction could have been avoided, but that time had since passed. 
You found some nice seats by the window, a reward for being the first few into the classroom. The room was located on the third floor of the school. The window had a beautiful view of the schools court yard and all the trees surrounding it. Yua took the seat in front of you while Hiroto sat in the seat across from you. You had taken this seating arrangement since the beginning of fifth year, it was tradition. Watching the rest of your class file inside, they slowly choose their seats as the classroom filled up. You watched the clock tick the seconds away as you waited for your first class to start. 
The final bell rang and everyone sank into their seats as they continued talking to each other. A few minutes passed before the door to the classroom slid open and a man walked in looking at the bundle of papers in his hand. The students quieted in unison as he made his way to the desk at the front of the room, setting down his papers and coffee cup before turning toward the chalkboard. He picked up one of the larger white chalk pieces that sat on the small shelf underneath.
“I’m Sugawara-sensei, I'll be your homeroom teacher as well as your science teacher this year.” He wrote his name on the board as well as the period times. Once the full schedule was written down he turned around, a wide smile directed at the students in front of him. Setting down the chalk, he reached for the attendance sheets on his desk. 
The girls you saw at the lockers were right, he was attractive. Was that the right word to use? Maybe encaptivating was better in this situation. 
His soft grey hair fell around his face, framing each one of his delicate features. His hazel eyes scanned the room as he talked. They were deep and full, like a cup of coffee with just the right amount of cream. You followed the curves of his face to the small beauty mark under his eye, over his petite nose, acrossed his milky white skin, to his soft pink lips. You watched them as he spoke, coming apart, pressing back together. You were mesmerized by them, by him. 
He flashed a smile your way and tilted his head opening his mouth again. 
Yua touched your shoulder lightly, noise flooding your senses. You looked around the room at the eyes that laid on you, and you alone. 
“L/N- san, that is your name right?” Sugawara questioned.
You looked up at the man standing at the front of the class. His words directed at you as he stared your way with a sweet grin. 
“Um yes Sugawara-sensei, i'm sorry…” You trailed off as your face heated up. 
He laughed lightly as he continued the roll call, his eyes shifting from you to the next student. 
How embarrassing you thought, “Everyone probably saw how I was staring at him.” You signed, laying your head in your hands.
“Ok, well let's get onto our morning meets and then we can discuss how I expect my class to be run.” Sugawara led everyone's eyes up to the chalkboard while he continued on with the morning information. 
You tried to focus on his words, you really did. But you were just a teenage girl, your mind wandered. It wandered to his frame, he wasn't the tallest teacher you had at the school, maybe around 5’8- 5’9 but he would tower over you. He was what the magazines would call slim fit, maybe more on the fit side. You watched as he continued to write on the chalkboard, his arm muscles tensing against his white button up, then relaxing as the fabric loosened again.
“Hey stupid, pay attention!” Yua harshly whispered over to you, pulling you out of your inappropriate thoughts. 
Your face began to bake again as you shook your head slightly and smiled apologetically at her. “He’s your teacher idiot, stop drooling over him and focus for Christ sake.” You warned yourself as you set in to focusing on the information he wrote on the board.
Sugawara had already moved on to the itinerary of the class schedules and when he would be back to teach science for the day. Pointing to the last class of the day a girl at the back of the class raised her hand pulling his attention away from the board.
“Hmm, yes...Hina?” He pointed at the girl who seemed pleased that he already remembered her name. 
“Sensei could you tell us a little about yourself since it's your first year at Seijo?” She questioned, ready for him to deny such a rude request. 
“Um, well I guess I could tell you a few things about myself.” He hummed in response, sitting down on top of his desk. “I just graduated college last year in the spring so this is my first real teaching job, i'll be helping out with the volleyball teams here at Seijo when I have free time, and…” He paused for a moment, glancing at the book on his desk. “Well I really like poetry.” He smiled at the last fact before standing back up.
“It’s time for college prep courses, so go ahead and start your independent studies and I'll call you up one at a time so we can start your files.” Sugawara sat down in his desk chair and pulled out a paper from his pile. “Ok, Hiroto you can come up and take a seat.” Sugawara pointed to the chair next to his desk as he flipped through the papers. 
“So now I know why you liked “Lolita” so much.” Yua snickered as she pulled her desk next to you. “You practically had a drool puddle on your desk Y/N-chan.”
“Oh shut up, it won’t happen again. I just didn’t expect him to be so, I don’t know, beautiful.” You puffed as you pulled out your summer reading.
“BEAUTIFUL?” Yua shouted, pushing away your hand as you rushed to hush her. The eyes of classmates landed on the both of you as well as Sugawara’s from the front of the room. 
“Independent study is independent.” Sugawara reprimanded as his gaze rested on you.
“I’m sorry sensei.'' You apologized, looking over to Yua who was busy avoiding both of your heated gazes.
Sugawara turned his attention back to Hiroto and you looked back down at your desk. 
“Yua, do you have to be so loud? Just do your summer work.” You whispered harshly, opening up your book and turning away from her.
The minutes ticked by as Sugawara called each student to the front of the room for the individual college discussions they would have. This would be a bi-weekly thing he would have to do, during this time he would guide the students on the right path to getting into the schools they wished to pursue. It was his job as your homeroom teacher to make sure you knew what you were doing after you walked out those doors and on to college.
“L/N- san, it's your turn to come up.” Sugawara was monotoned, flipping through to your file.
You turned away from your book to see Sugawara motioning for you to come up and take a seat, his eyes trained on the papers in front of him.
You gathered your belongings, making your way to the front of the room. You stood awkwardly next to the chair beside him, eyeing the light wood of the seat. 
He looked up at you and back down to the seat before smiling, “Come on, take a seat. I promise I won’t take long.”
You slowly sat down, scooting the chair a few inches away from his own as you handed him your papers. 
He responded to this by moving his chair closer. “Ok so what college did you pick...” He mumbled while looking through your documents. “Tokyo University, that's where I went, and you're gonna go for a culinary degree?” He caulked his head slightly, looking up at you.
You nodded, earning a smile. “I um, I liked to bake stuff. Like cakes and pie and pastries…” You trailed off as you looked down at the desk. The bell rang, signaling that it was time to leave for your club introductions. You started to stand up as Sugawara put a hand in front of you motioning for you to stay seated. 
“I’ll see you soon class!” He waved as everyone walked out of the classroom, the butterflies settling into your stomach as the last student closed the door behind them. It was probably out of courtesy, but for you it was a death sentence.
“Well if you ever need someone to sample your recipes you're welcome to bring them in.” He continued, flashing you a soft smile as he held your gaze. 
For a third time in one period your face heated up as he continued to look your way. Your eyes trying to fix on anything but him. Finally he looked back to the papers and flipped through them.
“Well your test scores are decent, but your math may need some working on if you want to pass the entrance exam, and your class finals.” It sounded more like a threat then friendly advice as the words left his lips. He winced slightly as he saw you sink into your seat, he had not meant for it to sound that way. 
You nodded, playing with your fingers as you stammered. “Math is my worst subject. I have a hard time with it. No matter how much time I put into it, it just doesn't make sense.” You paused before going on. “But I’m going to focus on it this year. Since I quit volleyball I'll have more time to study.” You sighed, mad about the decision. 
“Volleyball, what position?” He perked up at the mention of the sport, leaning in closer. 
“I was the team's main setter sensei.'' You finally looked up at him, but the eye contact didn’t last long when you saw his smile.
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll find you a tutor for math twice a week, but only if you come back to the team.” He closed your file, pushing it into the pile. 
You looked up in shock. “Sensei I, yes please. I tried to sign up for one but they were all assigned to students.” You sat up in your chair, taken aback by such a kind gesture. 
Smiling he stood up and you took it as your sign too as well.
“Then it's a deal. Go find the volleyball team in the gym for the meeting and I'll let you know who I find at the end of the day.” He walked towards the classroom door, opening it. 
You nodded and started towards the door. “Thank you sensei!” You smiled as you walked past him, bowing slightly before running down the hallway. 
He waited till he couldn’t hear your steps before he made his way back to his desk. He sank back down into his seat and let his head drop down into his hand, “Sugawara Koushi, what the hell are you doing?”
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incoherentbabblings · 4 years
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An Endless Hope (7/9)
After a horrendous blizzard falls over Gotham, Tim undergoes a sharp change in character before disappearing. Upon discovering what has become of him, Stephanie sets off on a solo journey in a magic realm to bring him home, meeting some faces who seem awfully familiar along the way.
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Stephanie grew angry, frustrated that this world seemed determined to take her through one long extended metaphor of her interpersonal relationships. Whomever this old woman was supposed to be, she had no time for it.
“Yes, yes. ‘Tis me. A human being. I am trying to get to the ice witch’s palace, but this lovely creature decided here was a better stop. Not to be rude but… I’m not here willingly.”
The old woman smiled at Stephanie’s attitude.
“Come in. Warm up. If you want into that palace I can help, but I’ll need to know your purpose.”
“No,” Stephanie stubbornly pushed back. “I can find my own way in.”
The lady was not impressed, trudging up to Stephanie and Abie. She grabbed Stephanie’s ankle and tugged hard, making Stephanie tumble off the reindeer and land face first in the snow.
“You will die if you just barge in with no idea how that magic works. Only a fool would do such a thing.”
Raising her head, spitting out snow and glowering at the woman, Stephanie sardonically replied, “Maybe I am a fool.”
“A fool in love?”
Stephanie’s jaw twitched and the lady sighed. She held out a palm for Stephanie to take.
“You haven’t gotten this far on your own. The final steps will be yours, but you will need one last push to get you over the edge.” Chewing her lip, Stephanie took the woman’s hand and was hauled up. After being allowed inside the sweltering hut, Stephanie perched herself on a little wooden bench, taking off her cloak and shoes. The old woman looked back at Abie, “You can come in too Mr Reindeer.”
“His name is Abie,” Stephanie interjected.
Abie trotted inside. He was a little bit too big for the space, but it seemed he appreciated the warmth as much as the plate of beetroot that the lady placed in front of him as he settled on some hay near the fire. The lady pat his large head and looked to Stephanie,
“A good name. What’s yours?”
A plate of cheesy potatoes was pulled out of the oven. Stephanie’s stomach once again grumbled, and she swallowed sorely.
“Oh no. I’m done playing that game. Last time a nice old lady offered me food and help and asked my name I ended up brainwashed for weeks.”
The woman seemed amused at Stephanie’s short fuse temper and asked, “Which old lady?”
“Who knows. A cottage by a big river. I was drowning and she picked me up…” Stephanie looked down at her gloves, feeling a stab of sympathy for the old lady. “I think she was lonely and wanted the company. I must have looked like a gift from God.”
The old lady snorted, unimpressed.
“Good thing I have no interest in letting you stay here very long then,” and Stephanie watched as the old lady piled two plates high full of cheesy goodness. “I am a witch, not like the one whose castle you are hunting, but I look after the land surrounding. There’s a couple of us here and there. We maintain our little plots of land and try to keep out of trouble from people like the Princess of Summer or the Snow Queen.”
“I met the Summer Princess, I think. She’d just gotten married.”
The old lady made an impressed face. “Red hair? Green eyes? Jaundice skin?”
Stephanie nodded, “Yes. A palace in the trees?”
The old lady whistled, sitting down next to Stephanie, and tucking into her meal. She placed the second plate and fork on Stephanie’s lap.
“Took her long enough. She’s a good girl really, a little proud, but when things get hard our pride is all we have. Her pride prevented her happiness for some time though.”
Stephanie sighed, looked at the potatoes, then Abie resting against the fire, and turned to eat. It was very tasty.
The two ate in silence for a while, and when Stephanie was finished, the lady took her plate and placed it in the sink.
“So,” the woman said gripping her counter. “A human crossed the border and is trying to get to the Snow Queen’s palace. There is strong magic around her home. I can help you cross, but I need to know why.”
“She took someone.”
“Another human? Yes, she does that sometimes.” The old lady turned, a suspicious eye on Stephanie. “But no-one has ever been followed. No rescue attempt has ever been made. You jumped borders to find them. Who is this person to you?”
“He’s my… he’s mine. My person. My boy.”
The woman’s suspicious look grew soft, “Your heart?”
“I love him very much,” Stephanie said simply. “He doesn’t deserve to be abandoned or forgotten.”
The heat was becoming uncomfortable, so Stephanie looked for permission to take off her tights.
“Oh, yes. Sorry. I have to keep it very warm here.”
“Understandably.”
The woman with a sigh sat down opposite Stephanie once more. She grew solemn.
“It is good, that you are motivated by love. She doesn’t understand such a thing. It means you can get inside.”
Stephanie could not let go entirely of her suspicion of witches, and asked, “Why would you help me? Surely it won’t matter to you if I fail or succeed. Actually, if anything, if I do succeed… she might hurt you.”
“Oh, she wouldn’t dare. Don’t you worry about that. It’ll be nice for her to learn a lesson about humans and their tenacity for once. I’m tired of her taking and taking with no thought to the consequences. She sees you all as so weak.” A breath, a stilted silence, and Stephanie waited patiently. When the woman spoke again, it was with a quiet urgency, a need to make Stephanie understand the severity of her quest. “You're going to have to give something up, something you love, something he loves, in order to reach the throne room."
Stephanie thought for a moment, then offered her hands entreating, "My gloves. I made them for him. Took me weeks. Would these do?"
The lady sighed, then pushed Stephanie's hands back towards her chest.
"No. I'm afraid that's not enough." She inspected Stephanie from head to toe, and Stephanie fought the urge to push that there was nothing else on her that Tim loved, outside of her own life.
Oh. Was this where it had all been heading? Childhood, first love, parenthood... Death?
Clasping her hands to her chest, she begged, "There has to be something..."
Reaching forward, the lady tugged the at the hair tie that held in what remained of the fantastic braid the Summer Princess had given Stephanie. It had mostly fallen out during the fight and flight from the robbers, but still. The lady lightly combed her trembling wrinkled fingers through Stephanie’s hair. It was still curly and wavy, a little bit wild, but soft and shining.
It really was too long. But Tim liked it, even if he had never said so aloud, so she had put off getting it cut for over a year. She liked that he liked it.
Stephanie’s breathing stilled. “Take it.”
“You’re sure?” The lady brushed Stephanie’s cheek as she stood up. Fumbling through some cabinets, it seemed she was looking for a pair of scissors.
“It’ll grow back,” Stephanie pushed. Grabbing the curls in two bundles, she shook the golden strands. “It’s like twenty inches at this point. I don’t need it. Not if it will help Tim.”
Panting with panic, Stephanie watched the lady struggle to find anything to chop her hair with. There was a spinning wheel in the corner but the woman honestly didn’t have a pair of scissors?
“A simple pair of scissors will not do,” said the woman, seemingly reading Stephanie’s mind. What else would work?
“Wait, here,” and Stephanie pulled out from her belt the knife the boy had given her. “Can you use this?”
The woman looked shocked that Stephanie even had such a thing. “Where did you get this?”
“A little boy gave it to me. The robbers who live by the edge of the forest.”
The woman took the knife. “This is a very special weapon. He would not have let go of such a thing so lightly.”
Stephanie resolved to find the precious boy and return the knife once her and Tim began their journey home.
Moving behind Stephanie, the woman twisted up her hair into the beginnings of what would have been a French twist. Holding the knife near the base of her neck, Stephanie prayed she hadn’t made a mistake of trusting the wrong person.
The woman paused and asked for one last confirmation, “This isn’t just hair, you know? Well, it is for you maybe, but over here –”
“I’ve cut it short before. He didn’t care. Hurry up,” Stephanie snapped. “I need to go to him, he needs me. Long hair or bald.”
“Well you won’t be bald,” the lady reassured, tone teasingly pleasant. “Just a little bit of a choppy cut. But still, I’ll ask again. What’s your name? And what is the name of the boy you are hunting for?”
Stephanie gulped, knowing she probably didn’t have much of a choice, especially with a sharp knife very close to her spinal cord.
“My name is Stephanie Brown. And I’m wanting to find Timothy Drake and bring him home.”
The woman whispered to herself, and then the sound of the sharp knife cutting through her hair like hot butter made Stephanie shiver and cry out, almost as if someone had pulled one of her fingers from its joint. For an unknown reason she began to cry. She felt the short strands of hair fall down and frame her face. Her right hand went up to feel the damage and the woman stepped in front of her. She placed the knife back in Stephanie’s lap and shook the thick and long clump of hair in her other hand. Stephanie looked up at her, eyes wet and red.
“You’ll have to wait a bit longer,” the old woman said as she trundled over to the spinning wheel. Feeling unsteady on her feet, Stephanie got up and watched the old woman whisper at her chopped off hair and begin to thread the machine.
“You can’t make yarn out of human hair,” Stephanie protested, voice thick with phlegm made by her tears. “It’s not good for that.”
“Ahem. Who is the magic lady here? You’ve heard stories of people turning hay to gold right?”
“Rumpelstiltskin?”
“That’s a terrible name. But if we can do it with hay, imagine what we can do with hair…”
And she began to spin, muttering to herself every now and then, whilst Stephanie repeatedly ran her hands through her short hair. Shortly after her first pregnancy she had chopped most of it off and obsessively straightened it. Back then she had told herself it was because it was getting difficult to manage its length under her Spoiler mask, but in hindsight it made just as much sense to blame it on wanting to start fresh. She had her baby, she knew Tim’s name, and they had begun their relationship in earnest, both as Robin and Spoiler and Tim and Steph. New beginnings and all that. She’d also wanted Dana and Jack to take her more seriously. Short straight hair belonged to a more responsible lady. Not a frivolous teen mom. Fat lot of good it had done her, but she had tried.
She had tried.
“Listen closely,” the woman said, twisting the hair and pressing the pedal as she worked. “I know what she does to the humans she brings back with her. She longs for their fragile beauty to be preserved, but the entire kidnapping process is just too traumatic for humans, so they quickly die. From the cold, from grief… doesn’t matter. They can’t survive with her. So, in recent decades, she’s been testing freezing their hearts. They can survive longer in the cold that way. But freezing their hearts strips them of what she loves about humans. But she’s too foolish to understand why she loves them so.”
She paused and looked at Stephanie. A moment passed of uncomfortable silence, and the woman narrowed her dark eyes at Stephanie.
“You know why you love this boy, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“Does it matter? Is chopping my hair off and coming all this way not proof enough that I love him?”
The lady was having none of Stephanie’s bashful anger, and pushed harder, “I need to know why.”
Stephanie grabbed a tuff of her short hair and walked away, over to Abie and the fire. She was sweating, she was so warm.
“Because he understands. He understands what I’ve gone through and he doesn’t think me weak or foolish for it. He’s watched me grow up and he’s proud of me. He’s grown up too. He doesn’t make me do things I don’t want to do. He indulges whatever stupid fancy I get into my head. Like me growing flowers as a substitute for children because he knows that it’s just what I need to do at that moment to work through something in my head. I’m not a victim to him, I’m a hero. He’s beautiful. He has breath that smells like coca cola and he holds me like if I’m not there with him nothing in the world makes sense. He told me once I keep him on the straight and narrow and I like that what I think matters to him. He’s so smart and he’s so kind and genuine and when we argue it’s not over whether or not I forgot to do the laundry last night… Because he’s been through so much pain, that it leaks out in odd ways… he tries so hard to not let it colour the good times. And yet he tries to be better. And I want to help him be better because he believes I am better too. And he’s gentle. Oh my God… he’s so gentle with me. I can't give that up. No-one else has ever come close.”
The sound of the fire crackling and the reindeer snoring filled the cabin, and eventually the cranking of the spinning wheel stopped. Stephanie looked up to see gold embroidery thread in the woman’s left hand and a needle in the right. She looked at Stephanie like a proud grandmother.
“Sew this into your gloves. You’ll be able to open the doors of her palace then.”
Brushing her cheeks clear of tears, Stephanie nodded, sat down, took off the gloves, and set to work.
“You’ll enter the palace, and then you’ll find him. Then what?”
“We’ll go home.”
“He may not be able to leave. He may not want to leave. He may not remember you, or home, or your family. Any of it.”
“Magic?”
“Magick,” the lady corrected, and Stephanie rolled her eyes. “When his behaviour changed, what preceded it?”
Stephanie paused in her sewing, thinking out loud. “He’d seen a figure in the storm. It must have been her watching him. We were playing outside, and the snow picked up. He was looking upwards, sticking his tongue out to catch snowflakes. Something got in his eye. It was so sudden.”
“It’s a speciality of hers. A type of glass. It gets in your body and freezes everything. No love, no warmth. It fades away. All that’s left is an insatiable boredom and coldness in both mind and body that can’t be relieved.”
“He kissed me,” Stephanie remembered. “Right before he left. I think it was him, one last burst, before he slipped away.”
The lady smiled and wrapped up the cooled dinner she had made, setting it on the windowsill.
“True love’s kiss? Clever boy to try. It works in some instances, but not here. This is a physical object that needs removing.”
“From his eye? What can I do? Aside ripping out his eyeball.”
“Don’t… don’t dismiss the possibility entirely.”
“I will not hurt him.”
The lady tapped Stephanie’s breastbone. “You humans. All so soft. So warm. I believe you know what kind of world you are in Stephanie. Play by our rules. It will get you there. I believe in you, for what an old lady’s opinion is worth.”
Stephanie watched at the lady settled in a rocking chair and closed her eyes to rest. Tilting her head, Stephanie smiled.
“I know who you remind me of.”
“Someone nice I hope.”
“A doctor. Back home. She gave me a second chance. Made me realise I’m not a total failure.”
The lady smiled in response. “Who else have you met on your journey?”
“Mother…best friend… mentor… family of maybe one day in-laws? And you.”
“Who is left then?”
Stephanie’s smile faltered, and she returned to sewing. “No-one good.”
She wasn’t intending to make a pattern with the thread. She didn’t have time. She did the hems of the wrists and fingers and made several lines of hidden stitches up and down the ribbing. She worked until she ran out of thread.
She put the gloves back on. In the dimming light of dusk, they glimmered. Golden lines shooting through the pitch black. Stephanie stood up and announced,
“Done.”
Abie looked up, sensing she would be setting off soon. The old lady rose up and opened the front door, letting the cold flood in. The sun had nearly set.
“It will not rise again for you. Eternal winter from here on out. Which is good news for you, hate to have you go snow blind.” The lady walked to Abie and pat his nose with careful deliberateness. “Drop her off at the red berry bushes. Then come back here.”
In a flurry of excitement that panicked Steph, the reindeer bucked up and thrust his big snout under Stephanie, pushing her up and over onto his back.
“No wait! I need to get my coat and shoes and –”
“Good luck Stephanie!” The lady proclaimed at the door, gesturing for Abie to set off once more. “The gloves will keep you warm for a time, but not forever. You'll need to gift them over to Timothy if you want to leave the palace. Be swift!”
“I’ll freeze!”
She tried to get off, but the reindeer once again began to canter, causing her to shriek in fright and pain. No cloak, bare legs and toes, with only a peasant blouse and a purple pinafore dress to protect her from the cold. Her mittens wouldn’t even protect her fingertips.
“No, no, no. I’m no good to anyone if I’m dead,” she howled over the wind, which stole her voice away. “You have to take me back.”
The reindeer ignored her and continued onwards. Feeling like she was being stabbed thousands of times by the smallest of needles, she continued to cry out in pain, fingers tightening in the reindeer’s fur in an attempt to focus her brain.
Eventually Abie slowed to a trot, unable to keep up the pace, and Stephanie was allowed to catch her breath. She was cold, of course she was, but not enough to fear for her life just yet. Maybe she had a bit of extra endurance thanks to the old lady and the gloves, but still; she would have had a lot more time if she had been allowed to put on her tights.
They continued along in the darkness. The sky was clear, and Stephanie spent most of the journey looking up at the sky. Moonlight did its job enough to let her see shadows and adjust so she was not riding blind. She’d seen the Milky Way from her time in Africa, but still. This was another planet, so their stars and galaxies were different. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes adjusted, and she laughed with joy at the sight of the night sky in full.
She had no idea for how long they ran. At some point the equivalent of the Northern Lights sprung into life, dancing across the sky. It was the first time Stephanie had seen such a thing, and she marvelled at the dancing blue, green and purple lights, shimmering like curtains in the breeze. They were so bright they lit up the snow as they crossed hill after mound, up and down across sweeping valleys. Abie chuffed and sped up a little.
“Are we getting close? We must be…” Stephanie asked. Her heart stuttered, and she knew her question to be true.
They finally crossed the summit of one final peak, and Stephanie gasped loudly at the sight. Where the Princess of Summer had seemingly taken care to integrate her home into the surrounding environment, the palace that Stephanie gawked at in the centre of the valley was anything but incorporated.
It was far too large to be occupied by one creature. It spanned the width of the valley, seemingly hovering a hundred feet from the valley basin, a frozen river flowing underneath. There was one path in and out of the structure, the road built into the hillside. Numerous towers in sharp angular shapes pierced the lit-up atmosphere, and the entire fortress glowed and reflected the dancing night sky.
Very distantly, Stephanie could see a purple blob on the river. Tilting her head, she realised it was her car, half buried in snow and ice.
The pair slowly made their way down the pass. Stephanie brought her feet up, her toes burning from the cold, to tuck them under her legs. The reindeer had a broader back than any horse, so she tried her best to perch delicately. Her shivering had gotten painful, teeth chattering and breathing difficult. She readjusted her grip on his neck, and lowered herself down, trying to take some of his warmth. What had that woman done, sending her out here with none of her warm clothes?
White bare trees marked the beginning of the bridge, which was lined with red holly bushes. Abie stopped, and Stephanie knew this was where she was on her own. Looking down, at the snow and ice that she would have to plant her feet into, she gulped. Slowly, bracing, she lowered herself down, crying out when her toes reached the floor. The snow was so tightly packed she did not sink in, but her body temperature was still warm enough to melt it slightly underfoot. She very quickly felt chilblains developing. Much more time here and she would be frostbitten.
She looked to the reindeer, who seemed a little mournful, like he was sending her off to her doom. She smiled shakily and smacked a wet kiss to his snout.
“Thank you, Abie. Be good!”
Abie chuffed, then turned around and left her. The sound of his snow treading hooves filled the valley, and Stephanie heard her own pulse throbbing in her head. She watched him go, just for a moment, then turned back towards the road. Shaking her feet like she would before a sprint and taking several icy breaths, building herself up for her task, she sprinted across the bridge. Going through the front door was perhaps not the most sensible option, but it was the only entrance she could see. She wasn’t about to go smashing her way into an ice palace (yet). She tried to keep quiet as she bolted across the several hundred-metre stretch, but the cold stung, and she cried out in pain.
There was no wind. There was no life. Empty and beautiful and cold. The purple and green sky made her feel like she was in a nightmare, the feeling akin to when she had been in and out of fevered consciousness during her time with Black Mask. The visuals made no sense and she was cold. Very cold.
Death. It was just like lying on that hospital bed, Leslie forcibly restarting her heart the few times it found the strain of living with a broken body too much.
She crashed into the huge door, slipping when the snow turned to ice, and the sounded reverbed over the valley. She fumbled with the huge doors, trying to locate something to grip and push or pull so she could slide in, but it was perfectly smooth and clear – clear enough to let her see the inside. There was no-one, nothing. No sign of life to be found.
She banged on the door hard, shrieking,
“Hey! Hey! You have someone who doesn’t belong to you! Give him back! Hello! Let me in!”
Kicking did no good, nor did body slamming it. Hot tears began to form again, and after one ill advised head butt, she slumped forward on her knees. There was not even a crack in the ice from all her efforts. It was ice, not diamond, why couldn’t she make a dent?
“I haven’t come all this way to be beaten at the front door,” she hissed. She pressed her gloved hands against the ice. “You can’t… you can’t keep him from me. Let me in!”
Something in the ice gave way, and she stumbled forward onto her thighs. Her hands, or rather the gloves, had melted all the way through. Squealing, she got a grip on the other side, and ripped through a hole. She did it again and again, opening up a space near the ground that was big enough for her to crawl through.
She scrambled inside ungraciously, and to her disappointment it was no warmer inside than outside. She remained on the floor, strength leaving her, until she was able to grip what she supposed was a side table and haul herself up. Movement caught her eye as she rose, and when she looked to the side, tense, she screeched. The sound echoed through the empty high-ceilinged antechamber. Stephanie cringed at how girly she sounded as she lost her footing on the ice and slipped, smacking her head again.
Well, now everyone knows you’re here.
Everyone being no-one, as no movement or noise appeared in response to her antics. Grunting, she pulled herself up to look in the mirror which had frightened her. Still not quite to grips with her appearance, she again reached up and curled her fingers into her hair.
It was lopped so choppily into a bob that, coupled with her full bangs, it made her look like she was six years old again, when she had found a pair of scissors in the bathroom and deigned to give herself a haircut. Crystal had found it funny. Arthur had not.
Her nose was red, as were her cheeks. Her lips were cracked and raw, and the skin around her eyes were stiff and sore. The water she had cried had quickly frozen in the wind as her and Abie ran, and it had not been kind to her skin. There was a giant red mark on her forehead from headbutting a solid ice door. She looked a mess.
“Keep going,” she breathed, trying not to falter. “Nearly there. Keep going, Steph.”
She stirred up enough energy to jog through the palace, occasionally losing her footing on the slippery ice.
Stephanie followed the corridors inwards, the refracting and reflecting light from outside disorientating and confusing. No matter which way she turned, no matter which empty rooms she entered, they all seemed to be pointing towards the centre of the structure. She cried out for Tim every now and then, in the empty hollow rooms, seeing as there was nothing living in the castle, but in her heart she knew, even if he could hear her, he probably wouldn’t care enough to answer.
As she continued, her pace slowed. Her limbs grew heavier and her walking faltered. It became her pushing herself upwards and onwards, only to make it a few steps before collapsing to her knees again. She used the walls and what little furniture there was as support, but she was sluggish and tired. Her limbs burned and breathing was laborious.
Finally, she reached another set of doors, these ones made from a crystal rather than ice, so she could not see what lay on the other side. Her heart thumped erratically, and she was sweating. She was so close. This door had handles thankfully, so Stephanie managed to grip it, getting to her feet one last time, and shove it open.
A huge amphitheatre opened up before her, dozens of meters high. There were steps down leading to the main open space which circled around a throne, suspended on what looked like a gravity defyingly crooked and thin staircase.
At the base, sat very neatly with crossed legs, was Tim.
“Tim!” Stephanie cried out. He looked up at her, face confused, and even from the distance, Stephanie could see he did not look well.
Her heart jerked, throwing her forwards. Stephanie took a step to run down to meet him, but her feet had grown numb from the cold, and she stumbled.
Tim watched, disinterested, as a blonde girl wearing a thin blouse and woollen dress fell down the clear stairs. She was not quiet in her descent, crying out and cursing at each solid smack and crack. She tumbled head over ankles before coming to rest for a moment on the flat ground. Tim watched as she whimpered and lay still for a moment, apparently catching her breath.
Feeling nothing more than confusion over the bizarre appearance, his attention returned to his task of spelling a word from broken mirror shards.
“Tim!”
When he looked up at the sound of his name, the blonde girl crashed into him, wrapping him up in the warmest embrace he had felt for weeks. Her hot breath moved through his hair, and he felt a solid, tempting heat emanate from the centre of her chest.
“Tim,” she sobbed. “Tim! I found you!”
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happymetalgirl · 4 years
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September 2020
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As quickly as I caught up, I fell behind, and I’ll explain it all later, but that’s why some of the review blurbs here are really short while others are much longer. I still tried to make the shorter ones as expressive and dense as possible, even though I personally don’t like that approach so much. Anyway, September 2020, still a hellhole.
Faidra - Six Voices Inside
Drawing very obvious influence from Burzum’s Filosofem for the ambient portion of its sound, Faidra’s atmospheric black metal debut manages to marry both the snow-hazy ambience of Norway’s second wave with today’s more full-bodied naturalistic ambient black metal in a ceremony rather respectably elegant for a debut.
7/10
Heathen - Empire of the Blind
One of the more anticipated thrash metal releases of the year, Heathen’s more intensely melodically focused and unbalanced approach only drags their lethargic Testament-sequel brand of melodic thrash down, as Empire of the Blind trades out the genre’s hallmark spitfire aggression for dull guitar leads and uninspired operatic vocal lines that leave only a desire for the former.
5/10
Oceans of Slumber - Oceans of Slumber
A demonstrably competent, but woefully soulless and bloated display of neo-classical prog metal chops, Oceans of Slumber’s self-titled fifth LP is one of many of the genre’s avatars for much of its impressive face-value and numb delivery.
5/10
Corey Taylor - CMFT
We all knew this day would come, the charismatic Slipknot and Stone Sour frontman has finally released a solo album. And you could tell from the rollout with the star-cameo-studded music video for the lead single, “CMFT Must Be Stopped”, that Corey was going to lean in on it. But honestly, for as much natural swagger Corey Taylor can wield and showcases on the track, his straightforward rock songwriting that has graced Stone Sour’s discography is astoundingly weak, and this song’s more exuberant egotistical indulgence amplifies it rather than remedying it. It’s definitely one of the worst singles I’ve heard all year, especially for a project so highly anticipated as this, and there’s really no excuse for it to be this bad. If the general goal of a solo project is to transcribe your creative DNA onto an album as authentically as possible, and if this is an honest portrait of Corey’s creative core, it really just affirms for the many people annoyed by his media omnipresence that his main talent is just being the great big mouth. It should be obvious, but I’m not saying this to disparage in any way his massive contributions to the legendary legacy of Slipknot or even the genuinely important role he’s taken up as metal’s de facto representative press secretary. It’s not unheard of, and probably more normal than the opposite, for group-embedded artists to struggle to get a strong solo venture going. Thankfully, the lead single is the lowest point this album stoops to, but with its generic 80’s hard rock and glam anthems, it frequently gets pretty damn close. And look, I can tell it’s an album that’s supposed to be more about having a good time than any of that other artist DNA shit I brought up earlier, but its only routes there are through cheap imitation of other artists’ styles, and this still wouldn’t be anywhere near my first well of songs to draw from if I were making the most drunken of tailgater playlists.
4/10
Skeletal Remains - The Entombment of Chaos
Relatively new on the wider death metal scene, the Californian four-piece show once again, on their fourth album, why there remains such an appetite for old-school death metal with effective beating sessions and shredding clinics like The Entombment of Chaos.
7/10
Messiah - Fracmont
Originally part of the movement of early intensifying that inched fast, heavy, growly metal closer and closer to, and eventually over, the line that would separate thrash from what would become the vast world of death metal before their lengthy disbandment, Switzerland’s Messiah are fortunate to return to a world still hungry for new and old flavors of death metal with the stylistically and compositionally vintage (if not rusty) but somewhat technologically updated death-thrash of Fracmont, but they will need to do more than just pick up where they left off and acclimate their approach to the modern era if they intend to stick it out in today’s harsher death metal ecosystem.
6/10
Stryper - Even the Devil Believes
The Christian glam metal outfit have really leaned into the power metal glory that their high-soaring brand was always kind of adjacent to over the past few albums, and to their benefit, and despite what their goofy striped outfit look back in the day would have led you to predict, the steadfast veteran Christian rockers have aged far better than most of their 80’s hair metal contemporaries. Nevertheless, the walking oxymorons’ cheesy, on-the-nose, and occasionally preachy lyricism remain a pesky turn-off to both the religion they espouse and the medium they evangelize through. Frontman Michael Sweet took a bit of a misdirected offense from another reviewer who pointed out exactly this about his band’s new album, taking some media time to play the insufferable persecuted god-fearing follower of Jesus that so many Christians so delusionally imagine they are as a majority religious group with more political power than any other. Now with Michael Sweet claiming that his band has it so rough because they’re openly Christian, I say it really comes down to how you present it, and he especially presents it kinda goofy. One of the songs I’ve been getting energized by a lot on my workout playlist is “Devil’s Den” by Impending Doom, an also openly Christian band. And apart from the nasty 8-string groove, the song’s central refrain “slaughter the demons that are clawing on my brother’s back, until my brothers fight back” about support through spiritual struggle against one’s vices is a thrilling lyric that frames that aspect of Christian spirituality in a much more relatable and sympathizable manner. I’m not expecting Stryper to go into gratuitous deathcore brutality to deliver their message, but they can’t be mad about receiving criticism when they haven’t evolved the 9th-grade-reading-level lyricism that was begrudgingly accepted in the 80’s. Sociopolitical stuff and frontman antics aside, Even the Devil Believes is an instrumentally solid, but exceptionally lyrically corny record full of Bible verse quotes and Sunday School rhymes. I’ll highlight the song “Do Unto Others” for beating the odds on this album with its invigorating sing-along power metal melody, but that song is perhaps the sole reason my feelings in this album are more neutral overall instead on negative, while the vast majority of this album is just begging to be instrumental or at least tuned out.
5/10
Mastodon - Medium Rarities
Mastodon really could have just saved the earth-quaking opening single for their next album or released it as a stand-alone single instead of with the other forty minutes of entirely unnecessary of instrumental versions and live cuts among the other worthwhile material to compile for an album like this.
Fallen Torches/10
Ihsahn - Pharos
The now prog-immersed enigmatic Emperor frontman put out a pretty solid EP earlier in the year, but I was still hoping that Ihsahn would come through with a more essential addition to his solo catalog, and even if it’s a small one, his second EP of 2020 is that addition. Pharos is a succinct, five-song display of proggy melodicism much more confident and infectious than the still-respectable Telemark, further bolstering Ihsahn’s prog credibility and proving to anyone skeptical that he was all esoteric experimental bark and no substantive bite that he indeed has the songwriting chops to thrive in the genre.
8/10
Uniform - Shame
The New York duo’s sardonic and noisy industrial metal neither progresses nor regresses on their fourth album, Michael Berdan’s nasty vocal delivery and the backing industrial instrumentation lose steam and effectiveness rather quickly and the numbing experience ends up being over before you know it for the wrong reasons. It has its moments, but they are brief and few in number.
6/10
Cloudkicker - Solitude
Through an eleventh album under the name of his occasionally djenty instrumental prog studio project, Ohio virtuoso Ben Sharp once again flexes his technical and compositional prowess in an entertaining rather than self-congratulatory manner.
7/10
Marilyn Manson - We Are Chaos
This was a bit of a weird one, and it definitely caught me off guard for a few reasons, mostly for how it flows and for my own not hearing the title track previously when it was released as a single. The iconic 90’s boogeyman of the religious right wing in America is on his eleventh album now and (I mentioned it when I reviewed his tenth album, Heaven Upside Down, in 2011) it seems like people are finally accepting that the Antichrist Superstar’s fire-stoking strategy of blasphemous industrial metal last century was something that served its purpose for a time that has now passed. With Manson now on the more mortally introspective side of 50, the more measured rock of the latter portion of his catalog is starting to outsize what so many see as his grotesque golden age, which has seen him dip occasionally into the sounds of his beloved trilogy, but mostly dabbling in glam and indie rock sounds to find a late-career footing to sustain him. And on this album’s collaboration with country outlaw Shooter Jennings, I think the aging provocateur has found a direction that could be promising. Now I say it that way because I don’t think they gave us more than a tantalizing taste of it on this album, but I would love for Manson to further pursue what he and Jennings pull off together at the beginning of We Are Chaos. It took me a little while to warm up to the hammed up spoken word intro and industrial rock body of the opening track, “Red, Black, and Blue”, but I do think it does kick the album off well, albeit deceptively. It’s easy to forget how well Manson can hold himself on a ballad, not just on his meditation on his own aging during “Running to the Edge of the World”, but also on several cuts in his famed trilogy like “Lamb of God”, “Man That You Fear”, and “Coma White”. But after the somewhat tame fire of the intro track, Manson jumps straight into three songs of completely unexpected indie rock balladry that capture his mission to soundtrack every listener’s individual apocalypse at this time. Going through a lot of changes in life myself, I had a bit of unexpected catharsis with these songs that I think I’m going to be unable to dissociate them from with future listening. Unfortunately, Manson doesn’t re-engage ballade mode until “Broken Needle” closes the album, with the middle portion of the album having some good moments of industrial rock swagger, like “Perfume” and “Infinite Darkness”, but also some songs like “Half-Way & One Step Forward” that are just too dry on energy to be worth the time. But overall, I think the brightness in this album’s best spots make it well worth more than just a cursory listen, and I just hope that this album is a turning point for Manson and a step toward finding his groove without the flagrant heresy that built his youth.
7/10
Derek Sherinian - The Phoenix
Meandering through a generic prog rock instrumental wasteland and picking up the occasional morsel from between the dried out cracks of desert floor, The Phoenix is barely even a hearty display of the prog metal skill and street cred we all know the talented keyboardist to have.
5/10
Napalm Death - Throes of Joy in the Jaws of Defeatism
British grindcore legends Napalm Death need no introduction at this point, and with plenty of excitement behind their most lengthily-awaited LP after 2015’s well-respected Apex Predator - Easy Meat (and the sizzling appetizer the Logic Ravaged by Brute Force EP gave us), the band’s fifteenth full-length onslaught of deadly grindcore, Throes of Joy in the Jaws of Defeatism is a satisfactory dose of the band’s usual black-pilled rage against political and societal ills at most, with a few odd, to say the least, stylistic choices to say the least that beg the question of why this took so long.
6/10
Finntroll - Vredesvävd
While its adherence to the band’s boundaries within the niche genre they occupy makes it unlikely to take its established Finnish masterminds to any new heights, Vredesvävd is a professional, yet still fun serving of Finntroll’s black-metal-flavored folk metal brimming with energy and optimism.
6/10
Proscription - Conduit
Another Finnish outfit making their mark on 2020, Proscription still have some important ground to cover in ironing out and more specifically differentiating their blackened death metal sound, but Conduit is hardly a timid debut, providing a solid foundation for the four-piece to build upon.
6/10
Carnation - Where Death Lies
Not the faintest hint of a dreaded sophomore slump can be heard on the Belgians’ unflinching, merciless follow-up to their sizzlingly nasty 2018 debut album, Chapel of Abhorrence. Where Death Lies is as unyielding of a continuation as it gets, and in the best way such a straightforward trajectory can be. Nothing but skin-shredding, means-tested death metal in its most fibrant Floridian Form from front to back, Carnation showcase their skills from groove to solo in another stellar all-around display of force that provides a perhaps necessary reminder to the fans and critics annoyed by its ubiquitousness of the raw power that can come from unadulterated death metal.
8/10
Fit for a King - The Path
Fit for a King deliver perhaps the most convincing pathos yet for their more brightly melodic brand of Architects-like metalcore on their sixth album, putting on an exquisite balancing act that could sway even the most stubbornly cross-armed observer who likes the breakdowns but hates the clean singing.
7/10
Kataklysm - Unconquered
Kataklysm’s 2018 album, Meditations has ironically stuck out to me in retrospect because it was the shortest full-length review I had ever done, simply because there was so little to say about the unmemorable melodeath on that record. The band have definitely bounced back with some potent fire in their belly on the metalcore-infused Unconquered. Boasting more infectious grooves and more crushing breakdowns with a notably greater sense of urgency behind them, it’s still a pretty unambiguous and unambitious record, but it makes a far more convincing case for itself.
7/10
The Ocean Collective - Phanerozoic II: Mesozoic / Cenozoic
After a largely forgettable preceding act from all the way back in 2018, The Ocean Collective Return much more revitalized and sufficiently warmed up for a much more engaging 51 minutes of progressive metal that checks both classical and modern boxes.
7/10
Fires in the Distance - Echoes from Deep November
The debut album from the Connecticut four-piece offers a rather compositionallly directionless and standard take on the death-doom it offers. Even while taking a melodic approach very similar to that of a Khemmis or a Spirit Adrift, the attempted soulful guitar leads come off as aimlessly noodly and unplanned as the structures enclosing them, whose dynamic shifts feel more like repeated defibrillation attempts for unlively songs.
5/10
Darkcluster - Spirit of the Void
The debut album from this Canadian one-man-band studio project makes its intent to fill the sci-fi extreme thrash void that Vektor might not get to return to in the wake of the revealing David DiSanto’s domestic violence toward his girlfriend, and while Darkcluster’s mastermind clearly has the technicality down, the atrocious vocals across the rather lengthy and largely compositionally aimless project greatly hold this album back.
4/10
Swine of Dissent - An Uprising
A safer and more measured, but more successful black-metal-flavored thrash debut record, Swine of Dissent still have some work to do on the compositional floor as well, but with not as many glaring flaws, they have enough to start with and move forward with this type of thrash metal.
5/10
Gazpacho - Fireworker
The artsy Norwegian outfit returns to the more sprawling prog rock that hooked me into their music on Night for their eleventh album, but Fireworker is far from the kind tepid, nostalgic return to normal that a late-stage revisiting of older styles often suggests of other acts. Elevating their already lofty sound and massive scope to new cinematic, choral, orchestral heights with astounding ease, the soulfulness contained within the band’s clinical execution of such a daunting series of tasks makes Fireworker their most accomplished and enrapturing work yet.
9/10
Sumac - May You Be Held
While far from fatal, after the enthrallingly eccentric and humblingly heavy sludge experimentation of 2018’s Love in Shadow, the slightly tempered creativity and muddied production of May You Be Held is a mildly disappointing fourth LP simply for how high its creators have set their own bar. Nevertheless, Sumac continue to impress with a noisy, explosive, yet hypnotic approach to post-metal that thrives in the band’s love to draw outside the lines and with a deluxe box of crayons.
8/10
Obsidian Kingdom - Meat Machine
Priding themselves on their eccentricity, Obsidian Kingdom come through with one of the most stylistically diverse, genuinely experimental, and entirely entertaining sludge albums of the year, if not recent memory. Taking the thunderous sludge of Mastodon and going at it with the mindset of a band like Sumac, the quirky Catalans pack operatic vocals and even Slipknot-sequel passages into the intricate compactor that is Meat Machine, and it’s a feat they can certainly take pride in.
8/10
Deftones - Ohms
Coming from a big fan of both Gore and Koi No Yokan, Deftones’ plunge deeper into the elegant shoegaze of this later stage of their career on Ohms was bungled far too much by a lapse in the critical compositional organization that has allowed their ventures into spacey alternative metal territory to succeed.
5/10
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timelordthirteen · 5 years
Text
In All Things 9/?
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Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)
Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.
Chapter Summary: With winter nearly upon them, Belle decides to take one last walk in the garden where the opportunity presents itself to clear the air with Gold.
Notes: Holy crap I cannot believe I got this done. Sorry it's so short, but today was bananas. I barely had a chance to read this over before posting, so my apologies for the 754 typos that I'm sure there are that I'm not seeing. Please point them out in the comments or message me. For the 31 Days prompt #11: peace.
[AO3]
Previous: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]
Belle awoke early the next morning to Thornhill bustling with activity.
The snowfall amounted to no more than a dusting, lightly covering every surface. Winter was most definitely on its way, and everyone was anxious to finish preparations. There were outbuildings that need last minute repairs and boarding up, food stores for the animals that needed to be moved into the stables, and extra wood needed to be chopped and stacked for the fireplaces. Inside, the maids were switching out the lighter window curtains for darker, heavier fabrics that would help keep out the drafts and the cold that seemed to radiate from the glass when it frosted over.
Belle took breakfast in her room, and then dressed in her favorite winter dress, a red wool blend that laced up the front, with a light gray blouse underneath. She dug her wool stockings out of one of the unpacked trunks, and wore them with her knee high boots. There was a matching red and silver cloak in a double layer wool that would keep her comfortable enough for a walk in the garden, probably her last of the season.
The sun was warm on her face and she tipped her face up, smiling, as she stepped off the stone patio into the cold, dry grass. It crunched lightly beneath her boots, and she looked around, marveling at how the landscape had changed in such a short time. Snow had settled in all the nooks and crannies of the trees and plants, making the colors of the few remaining flowers even more vibrant, and she wished she had thought to bring a pair of sheers with her so she could trim a few of the roses.
She came up to the fountain, which was now shut off for the winter to keep it from freezing, and stopped abruptly. Gold was seated at one end of the bench, his right leg stretched out and propped up on the heel of his boot. He was bent over and seemed to be rubbing at his knee, and she wondered if he’d slipped somehow and hurt himself. She hadn’t planned out what she wanted to say to him yet, but then he was turning and looking at her with a surprised expression.
“Belle,” he said, straightening.
His gaze was soft and his lips were very slightly curved, and it struck her that he looked almost as he did when she’d walked into the garden at Avonlea for their wedding.
The memory made her smile and she stepped up to peek into the fountain, finding it dry and with the same light covering of snow as everything else. “Hello.”
“What brings you out here?”
She shrugged and moved to sit beside him, her hands tucked into the inner pockets of her cloak. “Just thought I would get in one last stroll before it’s all buried under snow and ice.” He nodded at that, looking down at his boots, and she licked her lips before asking, “What about you?”
“Oh, I just needed some air,” he replied, giving her a quick glance. “And I needed to get out of the noise of the house for a few minutes.”
She smiled in understanding, having felt her nerves unsettled by frenetic energy with the walls of the manor. “There is an awful lot going on today.”
“Yes,” Gold agreed. “There’s always so much to do and it always seems to wait until the last minute.”
Belle sighed. “I think sometimes we’re in denial about winter until that first snow, and then there’s something of a mad panic to prepare, and everyone tries to do two weeks worth of work in two days.”
He chuckled. “And yet every year we swear we won’t wait so long the next year.”
She grinned and ducked her head. “It seems to be the way of things doesn’t it, almost a tradition.”
“Indeed.” He rubbed at his knee again and then shifted in his seat.
“Is - is your leg alright?” she asked, finally. Gold turned to look at her, his eyes moving over her face, and she felt uncomfortably scrutinized. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
His head tilted slightly, and the corner of his mouth curved. “I don’t mind at all, and it’s - fine, mostly.”
“Mostly?”
Her eyebrows lifted, and he shrugged. “And old injury of sorts, it comes and goes, and doesn’t take kindly to being cramped in a carriage for too long.”
Belle frowned and reached for his hand on impulse, covering it with hers and giving it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
His hand felt startlingly warm for his having been outside so long, but then she was also one of those people who felt the cold more acutely than others. Perhaps he just ran hot, like her father.
Gold looked down at her hand, almost surprised to see it there and even more so to feel the gentle gesture of comfort when she held it tight. He swallowed and licked at his lips. “It’s no matter,” he managed, his gaze moving up to meet hers.
Abruptly, she pulled her hand away and he missed the contact immediately.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, turning away from Gold.
She knew what she needed to ask, but the words were sticking on her tongue. She hated this awkwardness between them, and feeling so unsettled in the place that was to be her home for the rest of her life. It was impossible to live this way, wandering aimlessly with no purpose, always being on the outside. Despite how much she was coming to like Baeden, Jefferson, and Grace, it wasn’t enough, and with nothing to ground her she feared that by the end of the winter she’d become the crazy woman who kept to her room all day and forgot to wash her hair. The breath she inhaled was shaky and she pressed a hand to her mouth, letting her eyes close for a moment as she tried to calm herself.
Gold heard her distress and shifted closer, cautiously inching his hand towards her. “Belle?”
She sniffled and shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“No you’re not,” he said, gently resting his hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you - are you not happy here?”
Belle turned around, surreptitiously brushing her fingertips at the corner of her eye where there was the barest hint of a tear. “I don’t know what I am.” He frowned, and she sighed heavily, running her hand over her hair and smoothing back a strand that had sprung free of the clip at the back of her head.
“I thought - I mean - I don’t know what I mean.” Her eyes closed for a moment, and Gold gave her shoulder the same reassuring squeeze that she’d given his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this.”
“It’s no matter.”
She let out a humorless laugh and shook her head. “You keep saying that, but it does matter. I know you don’t want a wife, not really, and that’s fine - more than fine, really - but I had hoped that we might - become friends?”
Gold gave her a small smile. “I’d like that very much.”
She twisted all the way around to face him, and took his hand in hers, sighing as the warmth seeped into her chilled fingers. “Then - then you have to let me know you, right?”
He sighed. “Belle, I - I don’t know how to do this. I’m not - I’m not good at - at people. Jefferson is basically my only friend, and even on my best day I’m a grumpy bastard.”
She let out a little laugh, and looked down at their joined hands. “I think you’re better than you give yourself credit for.”
“Am I?” His voice was flat, and his expression was doubtful when she looked up. It made her laugh more, and he rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s helping, thank you.”
Belle collected herself after a moment, and when she met Gold’s gaze he was smiling, the lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. He was as amiable as he was the day they met, and he seemed to have the same trouble that she did sometimes with being brave enough to say what needed to be said. Knowing that made her feel instantly better about the situation, and she silently resolved not to let it happen again if she could help it, even if she had to barge into his private study and make him talk to her. The thought of being able to do such a thing, however, made her cheeks heat.
She felt lighter already, and she trusted that Jefferson had been truthful with her. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.”
He shook his head. “No need to apologize. I’m sure it’s difficult moving away from home, and having to deal with not only living in a whole new place, but with people you don’t know.”
“But I want to know them,” she said, lifting their hands and letting them drop back in her lap. “And you don’t need to apologize either. You saved my home. Without the deal you made with my father, it would have been bankrupt, and then I’d have no home at all.”
Her eyes teared up at the edges, shining in the sunlight, and his breath caught. She looked perfectly happy and terribly sad at the same time, and utterly beautiful besides. For a long moment, he stared at her eyes, watching as they brightened, and when she blinked and sent a single drop trickling down her cheek, he reached up almost unconsciously and caught it with his thumb.
Belle stopped breathing as Gold brushed her tear away, the touch so tender and light that it wasn’t there at all. “Thank you.”
Her voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her, and all he could do was shake his head, hoping she knew that it wasn’t necessary. If anything he should have been thanking her for making the best of a situation he’d put her in, against her will, and then going to all the trouble of trying to make the best of it. She was far too good of a person for the likes of him.
He was at a loss for what to say, when a stiff, chilling wind swirled through the garden. Belle shivered, and he stood up, offering her his arm.
“Shall we head back to the house?”
“We probably should, yes,” she agreed, and slipped her arm through his. The warmth of him even though her cloak made her want to lean on him the whole way back, but she was mindful of his leg.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said as they came up to the edge of the patio and the doors into the drawing room. “I just need to find the right things to occupy me.”
“Like your books?” he asked, grinning crookedly as he nudged her side. “Or maybe my books?”
She bumped her arm against him in return, accepting his goodnatured teasing with a bemused smile. “Perhaps...”
They entered the house as Gold was still contemplating her words. It occurred to him, sadly for the first time, that in his effort to make sure she would want for nothing at Thornhill, that she lacked a purpose in the daily affairs of the house. At Avonlea she had helped organize the household and staff, and plan events. But here all that was done for her. A thought was forming in his mind, and though he wouldn’t be able to fully execute it until the spring, it already made him smile. He hoped that Belle would be amenable to it, and if she was, it would give her more than enough to do.
That evening, they gathered in the music room because it had less windows that their favorite drawing room, and two fireplaces besides. The space was large but it felt warm and cozy, almost intimate. Jefferson had decided to play a little tune on the piano, while Bae and Grace danced around. After a little bit, Belle joined them, and the three of them danced in a circle around the piano, then across the room to loop around Gold’s chair, and back again.
Gold sipped at a glass of brandy, grateful that the pain in his leg had faded before dinner, but returned with a vengeance an hour or so ago. The alcohol dulled it somewhat, but shortly he would need to retreat to his room and a hot bath. For now, he felt more at peace than he had in ages, and as he watched Belle tip her head back and laugh, he dared to hope that this winter might be brighter and warmer than usual.
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1822 Sunday 14 July
6 35/60
11 3/4
My aunt and [I] off at 8 1/2 to Castel Dinas Bran (bran, crow, i.e. Crow Castle #) and got back at 10 10/60 - 36 minutes in ascending to the summit - A boy, the under waiter at the Inn, went with us as guide, and led us by the way thro’ the little garden of evan Parry whose son, a boy of 12 or 13, accompanied us with 2 sticks pronged with iron - my aunt used hers, but I had no need of one - the way is perfectly good and considering the steepness of the ascent, and the dryness of the ground, not at all slippery for I never slipt once even with my bright iron-heeled boots on - little steps cut which obviate whatever difficulty there might otherwise be - there was a light blue mist over the mountains which impeded our view - and, after reading Bingley’s description, and that ascending Dinas bran might be a substitute to those who had not ascended Snowdon, I was disappointed  - we could not see near to the end of the vale of Llangollen - nor distinguish anything of Vale Crucis Abbey - the hills immediately around bounded our view very narrowly - the remains are very small - Mrs ..... (not Middleton) of Chirk to whom the castle belongs, is going to build a sort of gothic cottage or summer house at the top of the hill (the shell nearly completed) the castle is to be walled round with an upper and lower wall, and the rest of the ascent planted all round - this will be a very great improvement - the waiter seemed to know something of the underground communication with the castle mentioned but disbelieved by Bingley - he (the waiter) said it was somewhere towards the north end of the castle but now filled up with stones -
In descending we gave the boy 1/. for going with us and taking the sticks and went into his father’s cottage - very neat - his wife and youngest daughter there very neat looking healthy people -  a very nice old man - a slater by trade and slated “that grand house” the King’s head - He had been reading the “English physician” an old physic book - we asked him to read us a little of the 1st chapter of Saint John in Welsh - he did and I tried to read after with tolerable success - the pronunciation is very guttural, but I think I could get the language in a few months so as to make myself pretty well understood -
Had breakfast as soon as we got back - Excellent bread and butter hot home-made rolls, etc and good coffee - At 11 3/4 my aunt and I, accompanied by Boots to introduce us, walked to Plâsnewydd - the gardener in waiting - we talked to him a good deal - he seemed a good sort of intelligent man much attached to his mistresses after having lived with them 30 years - he had walked about the country with them many miles when they were young - they were above 20 when they 1st came there - and had now been there 43 years - they kept no horses but milked 6 cows - said I, “can they use the milk of 6 cows?” “Oh! they never mind the milk - it is the cream” - he said Lady Eleanor Butler was a good deal better - He remembered Mr Banks - he had been there 4 or 5 times - I told him I had longed to see the place for the last dozen years, and we expressed our great admiration of the place - In Saint Gothens (for I know not how else to spell it and which we most particularly admired) was a little book case of 30 or 40 little volumes chiefly poetry Spenser, Chaucer, Pope, Cowper, Homer, Pope’s, Shakespeare etc - I quite agree with M- (vide her letter) the place “is a beautiful little bijou”, shewing excellent taste - much to the credit of the ladies who have done it entirely themselves. The gardener said “they were always reading” - the dairy is very pretty close to the house and particularly the pump gothic iron-work from Shrewsbury (Colebrookdale perhaps originally) - the well 7 yards deep - It is an interesting place - my expectations were more than realized and it excited in me, from a variety of circumstances, a sort of peculiar interest tinged with melancholy - I could have mused for hours and dreampt dreams of happiness, and conjured up many a vision of anxious hope -
In our return we strolled thro’ the churchyard - I shall copy the epitaph to Lady Eleanor Butler’s and Miss Ponsonby’s favourite old servant, Mrs Mary Clark, who died in 1809, when we go back + - just peeped into the church. Stood in the porch - the sermon not concluded - for the benefit of the distressed Irish -
Got back to the Inn at 1 1/4, and off to Corwen at 1 3/4 and got here (Corwen) in exactly 1 40/60 hour at 3 25/60 - (dated at Cernioge 8 1/2 p.m.) Very fine drive (10 miles vide Carey page 235) from Llangollen to Corwen, the Dee within a short distance on our right all the way - the banks shaded by rather large trees - perhaps chiefly alders - the valley narrow the hills on each side bold and beautiful and picturesque - the road like a bowling green - one of the best I ever travelled - government have lately taken this road (the whole way from London to Holyhead) into their own hands, and, tho’ the tolls are much heavier in consequence, yet vast improvements have been made in the road, and are now going on in different parts of the line of it - Corwen is a small limestone-built postal town, like a neat village, a small church on a rising ground on the left just after one entrance of the town - Stopt 1 10/60 hour at the Inn to bait the horses - the Owen Glendwr, apparently a very comfortable Inn - a good place to sleep at, if one was not anxious to get on farther -
Left Corwen at 4 35/60 and got here (Cernioge Mawr) in 3 hours at 7 35/60 - the road very pretty for about 6 miles to Lundyforth (according to the pronunciation) ((Pont y Glyn or Pont Dyn Duffws) vide Nicholson’s Guide page 353.) bridge, prominently situated over the Dee which foamed in a tolerably broad but shallow stream over its broken rocky bed below - we stopt and got out of the gig for a minute to view it - the road (to the right of it) cut thro’ the rock to a considerable depth - from here, however, the beauty of the road begins to decline, and the last 3 miles from Cerig y Druidion (Cherrig (ch pronounced like ch in church) y Druidyon) plain and dreary - the land poor and peaty, the hills quite bare - a little before Cerig y Druidion, we observed a conical hill, having the appearances of 2 mounds or terraces as at Dinas bran, and which we took for the citadel of Caractacus mentioned by Cary - there seemed something like an old stone work remain on the side towards Cerig y Druidion - the last 2 or 3 miles of the road almost in a straight line before us, and Cernioge Mawr tho’ a very neat looking whitewashed house, stands by itself in the midst of hills so bare of people and trees, my aunt and I agreed we should not like to stay here longer than necessary - there is a turnpike bar very near - the gate (there are two such between Llangollen and Corwen) such as I had never seen before, struck us exceedingly - 
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ten iron radii, about 1 inch broad and 1/4 inch thick, spring at equal distances from the circumference of the 2 little quadrants o circles placed in the corners at the foot and top of the hanging side -  a very slight iron post is fastened to the stone-posts - and upon the top of this single iron post, finished off to admit it, the gates are hung by a 
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swinging on the top of these posts -
Sat down to dinner here about 8, Kenioge Mawr Inn as the man of the Inn spells it - Trout, mutton chops, and gooseberry tart and cream - very good - Settled everything and paid - the bill etc and came up to bed at 9 1/2 to be in readiness in the morning to start at 7 for Capel Curig - wrote the last 9 lines of today - after having curled my hair - feel so very heavy and sleepy, I can write no more - I wonder what success I shall have about Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby. Mrs Davies thought they would be pleased with my note - but I cannot write more now - than that we have had delightful weather today, and have travelled on most comfortably - I am more than 1/2 asleep and must make the best of my way to bed - ‘Tis now 11 1/2 - E... [regarding her venereal condition: 3 treatments] a good deal of discharge - I have heard the win whistle here 2 or 3 times - what a dreary place it must be in winter! -
# Tuesday 20 August 1822, improperly called Crow castle -
+ omitted copying the epitaph as I intended - sorry -
Reference: SH:7/ML/E/6/0025 - SH:7/ML/E/6/0026
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thatmultifandomhoe · 6 years
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Strawberry Cream and BBQ - 8
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Pairing: Hybrid Hoseok and Human Reader
Overview: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected.
Word Count: 1,561
Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Future smut, Angst, Best friends to Lovers
Warning: None, but in-case anyone is wondering, it’s early February.
Master List
Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 (Final) - Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble
©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.
By the time you had the cartons of food set out, Hoseok came walking back into the practice room, a towel slung around his shoulders and his hair still damp after his attempt to quickly dry and brush his hair. His tail on the other hand, was as fluffy as it could be. You had taken advantage of the time he was gone though, taking deep breaths to calm down, repeatedly reminding yourself that Hoseok was your best friend.
“I smell Lo Mein,” Hoseok called out, a smile on his face as he sat against the wall next to you.
You raised an eyebrow as you handed him his food. “If you think I’m going to order Chinese food without getting Lo Mein, I’m gonna have to strip you of your best friend title.”
Hoseok gasped, chopsticks in mid break. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I would.” Sitting crisscross, you tapped your chop sticks against his forehead before focusing back on your dinner.
He chuckled but you continued to ignore him, smiling as you set your food down to reach into the plastic bag, pulling out a few more containers. The specific one that you had been going for were the steamed dumplings, purposely putting them closer to you. Both of you shared a love for them so you got extra.
“Someone’s territorial about her food tonight,” he teased.
“You made me have to search for you tonight, of course I’m protective of my dinner.”
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you ate, focused on stuffing as much as possible in your stomachs before having to call it quits. Which for you, didn’t take very long. A carton of Lo Mein, half your dumplings, a few pieces of chicken and you were out. Hoseok on the other hand, was still happily munching on his portions.
It wasn’t hard for your mind to wander back to the conversation you had with Namjoon earlier, especially since you were sitting in the exact place and the exact person you had been talking about. What was the best way to bring it up? If Hoseok never mentioned it, then maybe there was a reason for it.
Being curious however, made it also impossible to at least not approach the subject. It was an uncomfortable itch that unless you scratched, would lead to insanity.
Hoseok chuckled as he leaned over, taking your remaining chicken and plopping them into his carton. “What’s on your mind?”
“Huh?”
He raised an eyebrow, his chopsticks held up as he finished chewing. “You keep scratching your wrist.”
“Huh?” Looking down, you saw the red scratches on the side of your wrist, just like he said This was always your tell-tale sign that your mind was overthinking. Again. “Oh, it’s just…” You licked your lips, sliding your hands around your waist instead.
His tail, which had been wagging as he ate, slowed down as he waited. Several times his gaze flickered over to your wrist, even though the scratches were hidden from sight, his gut twisted. The thought of you hiding something from him didn’t sit well. “Strawberry, what’s going on?”
“Why didn’t you say anything about having a solo in the show?” You blurted out, eyes widening as your hands covered your mouth in shock. Well, there went not saying anything.
Hoseok stopped moving, freezing to the point where even his chopsticks holding food paused inches from his mouth.
“I’m sorry, but Namjoon came in today after visiting you and said you were practicing for your solo and thought I knew about it.” As soon as the words spilled out of your mouth, you gulped in a deep breath of air for your lungs. Looking down, your gaze focused on counting the lines in the wooden floor, suddenly fascinated with how many there were.
Hoseok finally unfroze himself, but he didn’t go back to his usual smile. Instead, his shoulders weakly shrugged as his ears lowered on their own, his tail settling across his lap. Any remaining appetite that he may have had left was now gone, merely pushing his food around with the chopsticks in an attempt to regain his hunger. “It was…it was supposed to be a surprise. At first.” He finally said.
That caught your attention. “At first? What happened?”
Setting his food down, he finally looked in your direction with a half-smile. “Well I was excited when I first found out. But I wanted to keep it to myself, in case anyone couldn’t participate in the show anymore and the studio needed to find any replacements, or if things changed. Then as the weeks passed and none of that happened, I planned on telling you guys…”
“…But?”
“But…” He continued on. “Life happened. We were all getting busy and it was nearing mid-terms for you and Sue, then she was applying for the study abroad at the same time.” He ran a hand through his hair, his nose scrunching up when he accidentally whacked one of his ears with a finger. “So, I told the guys and they told the others. I wanted to tell you and Sue together, but then time went by and just forgot. No biggie.”
Shocked, you leaned back against the wall, watching as he finally tossed one last piece of chicken in his mouth. No biggie? Accidentally forgetting an item on the grocery list, was no biggie. Eating the last of the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in one sitting, while it hurt a little on the inside when you remembered how much it cost, was no biggie.
Hoseok forgetting that he had a solo performance in the Dance Studio’s show in May? A chance that he’s been hoping of one day getting ever since he started going there three years ago? That was not a, ‘no biggie.’ Even if it’s been several months since he obtained the solo, he still would be bouncing off the walls.
He was barely even smiling.
“When did they tell you about getting the solo?” You gently asked, hoping it wasn’t when you were thinking.
“Early November.”
Guilt hit you in the back of the head. He had kept this to himself for three months. Reaching over, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, smelling the mint scented shampoo he used. “Hobi, you should have told me.” You whine, resting your head on his shoulder. He tightly hugged you back, his cheek pressing against your head as you felt cold air moving around the two of you. His tail was once again wagging. “Busy or not, I still would have dropped everything to celebrate with you. This is a huge achievement Hoseok, I’m so proud of you.”
His cheeks felt warm as he listened to your compliments, relieved that you couldn’t see his face at the moment. “I’m still practicing. We don’t know how it’ll be until the night of the show.”
Since he was your best friend, you slapped his chest even if it felt like only a tap to him. “Shut up. I’ve seen you dance before Hoseok, and you’re absolutely amazing.” You felt his tail gently whack against your thigh as you spoke. “And I know that come night of the show, I’m going to watch you give the best performance of a lifetime.”
At your words, Hoseok’s heart felt like it skipped a beat. You were already so confident in him and his dance – that he hadn’t let anyone see yet – and you were planning on coming to watch him perform. You and the others usually showed up since the Dance Studio was important to him, but to hear you say you’re going to be there for him on the biggest night of his life…it was the greatest thing he could ask for.
Without caring, he unwrapped his arms for a brief moment, slipping an arm under your knees to pick you up and plop you on his lap. He heard your heart race at the sudden movement, but he didn’t stop. Even when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, your scent absolutely hitting him with full force to the point he wondered if he could get drunk off of it.
“Thank you,” Hoseok murmured, his voice soft against your throat.
His actions took you by surprise. It wasn’t like he was one to shy away from affection, he was a hybrid so a part of him naturally craved the affection, but he wasn’t so…tender and romantic usually.
For a brief moment, you thought of getting out of his lap and back to your spot next to him. Of reclaiming the fact that the two of you were just friends. Best friends in fact. Namjoon came to mind, keeping you from doing that.
“The two of you are almost as close as mates.”
As much as it sent your heart racing in shock when he told you that at the bookstore, this time a sense of comfort covered you like a soft blanket at the thought. Sighing, your arms wound their way around his back, your face pressing against the back of his neck. His body vibrated in an appreciative hum and you could have sworn you felt his lips curl up in a smile.
Really. What’s the harm in indulging yourself just this once, in something that means just a little more?
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hazyheel · 5 years
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WWE Clash of Champions 2019 Review
This show didn’t particularly impress me from the beginning, but as it went on I actually really got on board with it. There were a lot of good matches on this show, and two great ones that really kicked the show up a notch. WWE really does have the talent to do well in this wrestling landscape, and I think that this is one of the stronger shows throughout the year. A lot of people impressed me more than I expected, and it wound up being pretty damn good. Here is my full review of the show.
Drew Gulak vs. Humberto Carrillo vs. Lince Dorado for the WWE Cruiserweight Championship: Gulak started with a huge shotgun dropkick to Carrillo right away, but Carrillo and Dorado quickly opted to team up to take him down. Dorado quickly took control with a suicide dive, followed by a flying rana, only for Gualk to take him out. Carrillo tried to fly against Gulak as well, but Gulak picked him out of the air and started to work over his shoulder. Carrillo fought back, only for Dorado to run back in with a flying crossbody to Carrillo for a near fall. Gulak then threw Carrillo out of the ring and started to work over Dorado’s ribs. At one point, Carrillo gave Dorado a suicide dive as he was sitting on Gulak’s shoulders. Another point saw Gulak attempt to counter a moonsault with a double kick to the face, but Carrillo landed on his feet and locked in a modified sharpshooter. Dorado then locked in a standing crossface on Carrillo, which forced him to break the sharpshooter, until Gulak grabbed Dorado and threw him into Carrillo. The three then all dueled to a stalemate, with everyone landing a huge hit. We then saw Gulak try for a superplex on Carrillo, but Dorado ran at him, so Gulak launched him up for a dropkick onto Carrillo. Dorado then nailed a super rana to Carrillo, but missed the Shooting Star Press on the follow up. Carrillo then nailed a disaster kick and an Aztec press. He almost got the pin, but Gulak threw Carrillo into the post and got the pin instead. 
Grade: B+. This was a bit sloppy at first, but it got better as it went on. The best parts of this match was when everyone was desperately swinging at everyone else. I loved the suicide dive spot, as well as the super rana. It looked awesome, and really brought the match alive. I think that having Gulak get the win here was good, but the story between Dorado and Carrillo was far from over. But Gulak looked great as he always does, and although this was Dorado’s biggest stage yet, he did great. Really good stuff here and an energetic way to kick of the show. 
AJ Styles vs. Cedric Alexander for the WWE United States Championship: I have no idea why this is on the pre show, but I don’t mind. Before the match, Styles sent Karl Anderson and Luke Gallows to the back. Also, the ref held the belt upside dwn when he held it up. Alexander started things off with a michinoku driver as Styles charged him for a near fall, and followed up with a tope con hilo and a neuralizer for another near fall. Alexander tried to follow things up with a springboard lariat, but Styles swept his feet. Styles then gave Alexander a brutal brainbuster on the apron, and then a Styles Clash on the floor. He went to pin Alexander, but he pulled Alexander up at 2. He then nailed a yoshigaroshi and slowed the match down. Styles then locked in the Calf Crusher, but Alexander quickly made it to the rope. The two continued to go at it fast and furiously, with Alexander nailing a slingshot flatliner for a near fall, but Styles then nailed a Phenomenal Forearm, followed by another Styles Clash for the win.
After the match, Gallows and Anderson continued the beatdown a bit. 
Grade: B+. This was a hell of a sprint. They destroyed each other for a good 7 or 8 minutes before the match ended, and while I think this was a fast paced match that was a great way to get the crowd energized, it wasn’t quite great. There wasn’t a lot of back and forth, this was really just glorified squash with some big moves from Alexander thrown in there. They can do better, but this was pretty damn good on its own.
Braun Strowman & Seth Rollins vs. Dolph Ziggler & Robert Roode for the Raw Tag Team Championships: Roode and Strowman started things up, with the heels desperately strategizing a way to take Strowman down, which wound up being Ziggler trying to choke him out. Strowman took him down with ease, and the faces took firm control, until Rollins was tagged in and ate a DDT from Ziggler on the outside. The heels then worked over Rollins with various cheapshots and strikes. At one point, Rollins nearly got the hot tag to Strowman, but Ziggler hopped on his back for a sleeper hold, but Rollins powered him up into a Falcon’s Arrow, and got the hot tag to Stromwan. It took a second, but the heels then started to take the fight to Strowman with a superkick, only for Rollins to tag back in and fly around the ring like no other, including a great suicide dive to Ziggler. Roode and Rollins were in the middle of the ring, and as Roode went for a Glorious DDT, Strowman ran in and tried to take him out with a shoulder tackle, but Ziggler ran in his way and got taken out. That gave Roode enough time to pin Rollins and win the tag team championships.
Grade: B-. This match was mostly an angle for later on in the show. I thought that Rollins was quite the highlight in this match, the way he flew around and took everyone out towards the end, but I don’t think it was enough to save the match. But this was the right outcome, and it did give some momentum to the main event. Good for Ziggler and Roode, I hope they have a good title reign. 
Strowman interview: he blamed Rollins for losing the Tag titles, and said that his losing streak will continue in the main event. 
Becky Lynch Interview: Lynch said that Banks was great in the past, but she doesn’t think she is anymore. Lynch said that she was scratching and clawing her way to the top, while the only thing that Banks did was dye her hair. 
Bayley vs. Charlotte Flair for the Smackdown Women’s Championship: the match started out with a hard thrust kick, and completely dominated the early going of the match. Charlotte targeted Bayley’s knee heavily, but couldn’t lock in the Figure Four at all. But the finissh came out of nowhere, with Bayley unhooking the bottom turnbuckle and throwing Charlotte’s face into it, and then rolling her up for the win. 
Grade: C-. This match had a lot of promise, as Flair was laying into Bayley in an awesome way. But the finish was way too out of nowhere, and the match wasn’t long enough to be any better than this. Good stuff for how long it lasted, but if Bayley had gotten in some more offense it would’ve been better. 
New Day vs. The Revival for the Smackdown Tag Team Championships: Xavier Woods and Dash Wilder started the match, and the Revival immediately worked over Woods’ knee, but Woods tagged out to Big E. As Big E was beating on Wilder, Scott Dawson pulled Woods off the apron, distracting Big E enough to allow Dawson to hit a flying clothesline. Big E was then beaten down by the Revival as Woods was basically unconscious on the outside. Big E fought back a bit, before giving the tag to Woods, who cleaned house on Dawson. As he went for a pinfall, Wilder kicked Woods in the knee to break it up. Big E then ran in and tried for the spear through the ropes, but Wilder avoided it. Wilder then went for a suicide dive, but Big E caught him, only for him to slip out anyway and then hitting the Shatter Machine. They got back in the ring, and chop blocked  Woods’ knee before nailing him with a Shatter Machine. Instead of pinning him, Dawson locked in a kneebar, and although Woods nearly made it to the ropes, he tapped out and the Revival won the belts.
After the match, the Revival cut a promo about how they have brought prestige back to the belts, and crapped on the New Day. 
Grade: B. This was a good match with a lot of nice psychology. I loved the attack on Woods’ leg. They worked together as a team and systematically dismantled the champions. It was really fun to watch, just some good old fashion psychological action. They were awesome heels and they destroyed Woods and Big E slowly. This was a very impressive tag match and was pretty good. 
Alexa Bliss and Nikki Cross Interview: Cross talked about how this match isn’t Rose bullying them, its about retaining their championships. A bomb mic then came into the shot, showing that R Truth was the one holding it. A bunch of wrestlers chased him out.
Alexa Bliss & Nikki Cross vs. Fire & Desire for the WWE Women’s Tag Team Championship: Cross and Rose started things out, with Cross mocking Rose. Deville was quickly tagged in, but the champions still had control as Bliss tagged in. Bliss then beat down Rose as the 24/7 division ran down through the match. Bliss tried to pin Truth during the match, but he got away. Then the match just continued, so that was awesome. I love that just no one cared. Either way, after that distraction, Deville came in and worked over the leg and ribs of Bliss for a while, until Cross got the hot tag. Cross destroyed Deville a bit, which was awesome, before hitting a flying crossbody for a near fall. She tagged Bliss, but as she did, Rose pulled Cross out of the ring and Deville pulled Bliss off the top, allowing Fire and Desire to hit a leg sweep and high knee combo on Bliss, but Cross broke it up. Cross then tagged in, and hit Deville off the apron, dodged a knee from Rose, before hiting a hangman’s neckbreaker on Rose for the win.
Grade: C+. Almost a B-, but I don’t think the fun closing stretch inched it on the positive side. The match was largely pretty boring other than that finish, which was exciting. The finish was good, Cross needed to pin Rose for the sake of the story. I don’t think that the 24/7 stuff was necessary, and I wish it didn’t happen. Treat the division with some respect, jeez. 
Shinsuke Nakamura vs. The Miz for the WWE Intercontinental Championship: before the match, Sami Zayn came out and said that the crowd was incredibly disrespectful for cheering when Undertaker chokeslammed him on Smackdown. He sustained a neck injury, but it didn’t matter, because Nakamura was gonna destroy the Miz tonight. As the match began, Zayn yelled about Shinsuke during the match into the mic, and just heeled on the Miz and Charlotte. After Zayn shut up, the match started to pick up a bit, with Miz beating down Nakamura and throwing Zayn’s mic. Zayn then distracted Miz a bit, allowing Nakamura to nail a single leg dropkick to the face and take control. While Nakamura didn’t have a limb focus in the match, he did destroy Miz with strikes, while Miz tried to target the legs. At one point, Nakamura locked in an armbar, but Miz stacked him up and nailed a DDT for a near fall. The two continued to fight, and Nakamura nailed the sliding German, but Miz picked the leg and started to attack the leg. As Miz looked for the Skull Crushing Finale, Zayn distracted him, and Nakamura nailed him with a knee to the back of the head, but Miz still kicked out. MIz was then able to counter a Kinshasa into a Skull Crushing Finale, but as he made the pin, Zayn distracted the ref. Miz then chased Zayn around the ring, only for Nakamura to catch him with a kick, and then nailing the Kinshasa for the win. 
Grade: B. This was a pretty good match. Nakamura sold really well, and the crowd was super into the Miz during this match. There was a lot of good looking striking, and this match kinda had shades of the old Shinsuke. He hasn’t felt the same since his heel turn, but I think that he is looking good now. Zayn was a perfectly annoying manager, but Miz throwing his mic away was the best thing that could’ve happened. I think this is a money pairing, and it worked really well. Good stuff here, the start of a very good run with the IC championship.
Becky Lynch vs. Sasha Banks for the Raw Women’s Championship: The match started out with Becky in control, and the two quickly fought down to the mat. Banks retreated to the outside, but Lynch followed her out with a baseball slide. However, Banks nailed control by going for the hair, and started to nail her with knees and strikes to the face. Neither woman was able to get their signature offense, as they know each other very well. At one point, Banks went for a splash off the top, but Lynch countered with a dropkick as she came down. Lynch then fired up and started to destroy Banks with lariats and kicks, ending with the Bexploder. She then went for a flying clothesline, but Banks picked the arm beautifully as she did, transition into the Bank Statement. Lynch quickly fought out and nailed another Bexploder, followed by a leg drop for a near fall. As the match continued to roll on, Banks took control with a meteora for a near fall, and the two jockeyed for position on the mat, with Lynch being able to reverse a kickout into the disarmer for a quick submission sequence. Becky then started to stomp on Banks in the corner, but Banks trapped her leg in the ropes and gave her a backstabber, before pulling her to the middle and hitting another to transition into a Bank Statement. Lynch then desperately tried to get to the ropes, eventually rolling up Banks and forcing her to roll out. Banks then grabbed a pair of chairs, throwing one in and nailing Lynch with a chairshot to the gut while the ref was distracted, followed by a shining wizard for a near fall. Sasha tried to hit Becky with the chair again, but the ref grabbed it. Lynch then tried to hit Banks with it, but Banks dodged and Lynch hit the ref. Lynch then unloaded on Banks a bit, and the two brawled into the crowd. At one point, Lynch locked in a Disarmer through the railing, which Banks fought out of by puling Lynch’s hair. The two then fought around the concessions area before fighting back towards the ring. As they got back in the ring, Banks had control. She tried to nail Lynch with a chair, but Lynch grabbed it and nailed Banks a bit. Lynch then locked in the disarmer through a chair, and Banks screamed in an attempt to get help, and a couple more refs ran down to stop that attack. The refs then gave Lynch her belt and told her to leave, so Banks won by DQ. 
Grade: A-. This match was just as good as I thought it would be. They layed into each other and had a hectic brawl that was awesome to watch. I thought that the finish was a little annoying, but the rest of the match was great. I thought the grappling was really good here. They are fluid technical wrestlers that made for exciting sequences. Great stuff here, just as good as I’d hoped. But the thing is, I still know they can do better. So I’m happy to see this feud continue. 
Kofi Kingston vs. Randy Orton for the WWE Championship: The started out with a slow feeling out process, where they grappled a bit with each other, with Orton coming out on top with his superior strength. Orton did quickly retreat to the outside after a forearm from Kingston, looking like it threw him for a loop. When he got back in the ring, Orton got a bit more aggressive with chops to the chest and shots to the face. The two then brawled around the ring after Orton launched Kingston off the apron and into the barricade. He then gave Kingston a vertical suplex over the barricade, and continued to beat him down back in the ring. Kingston eventually fought back and started to pick up the pace of the match, but Orton caught him out of a Trouble in Paradise for a backbreaker, but only got a near fall out of it. The two then started to pick up the pace once again with Kofi slipping out of a superplex only to eat a powerslam for a near fall. Orton then went for an RKO, but Kingston countered with a rollup, only for Orton to nail it right afterwards, with Kingston getting his foot on the ropes! Orton then went for the punt, but Kingston dodged it and then hit the Trouble in Paradise for the win!
Grade: B+. This was a shockingly good match, really pushing Kingston as the underdog and doing it well. Every comeback that he made was exciting, and Orton played his heel personality perfectly. The moves were snappy and good looking, and they worked really really well together. I doubt they will be able to top this match if they end up going to Hell in a Cell. This was far better than it had any right to be, but I’m glad it was. 
Street Profits Backstage: They put over the Kingston, tomorrow night’s Raw, and they made a punch of Lion King and sex jokes. King Booker then joined them, and he put over the King of the Ring tournament. Angelo Dawkins then asked Booker to knight him so that he can get girls. King Booker then yelled at both of them, and hit his lines. 
Roman Reigns vs. Rowan in a no disqualification match: Reigns attacked as Rowan entered the ring and showered him with punches, only for Rowan to destroy him right as he was able to get some momentum. Rowan beat Reigns around ringside, before Reigns shoved him into the stairs. Reigns then grabbed a kendo stick, but Rowan nailed him with the steel steps and beat him throughout the stands. Rowan beat him down amongst the booing fans, mostly with a trash can, before they fought back to ringside. Reigns then tried to put Rowna through an announce table, but Rowan destroyed him with a tackle as he was setting it up. The two fought back into the ring where Rowan continued to keep the advantage, and the brawl continued to get wilder and wilder. At one point, Rowan gave Reigns an Iron Claw through the announce table, and beat him with the ring bell as they entered the crowd again. As Reigns started to fight back, Rowan once again gave Reigns an Iron Claw through the a table, and then dumped him on the stage. He then grabbed the camera jibb, but Reings nailed him with a wrench or something, and pushed the jib into Rowan instead, followed by a superman punch. He went for a spear down the ramp, but Harper showed back up to wreck Reigns with a boot to the face! They then went back in the ring, and Harper gave Reigns a discus lariat, followed by an Iron Claw from Rowan for the win.
Grade: B. Harper is back! This was actually a pretty fun match with a shocking finish. Rowan looked really good even before Harper showed up, so needing the help didn’t really hurt him in any way. Rowan has gotta be in for something big from here. I mean, unless he is about to do a heel on heel feud with Daniel Bryan, he is probably gonna feud with Kofi for the WWE championship. This is easily the biggest win of his career, and I’m genuinely looking forward to where this goes next. But other than that this was a pretty fun brawl. 
Seth Rollins Interview: Rollins said that Strowman had a hand in losing the tag titles, but this is not about them anymore. He then said that he slayed the beast at Summerslam, and now he will slay a monster. Cool line.
Seth Rollins vs. Braun Strowman for the WWE Universal Championship: Strowman started things off with a series of huge shoulder tackles, and tried for the powerslam early on, only for Rollins to slid out and attack the knee. Rollins was able to put Strowman down with three superkicks to the face and then a frog splash, but Rollins kicked out before one was even counted. Rollins tried for the stomp, but Strowman caught him and started to ragdoll the champ around. Rollins then started to fire back with a series of flying knees, but Strowman caught him out of it and hit a huge clubbing blow to his chest. He rolled to the outside, where Strowman started to run him down a few times, until Rollins dodged him and sent him careening over the announce table. Rollins waited for Strowman to get up, and nailed a pair of suicide dives that put Stromwan through a table. Rollins went for another, but Strowman caught him, only for Rollins to slip out and send him into the steps. He followed up with a superkick that put Strowman on the announce table, but Strowman followed him to the top rope. Rollins tried for a superplex, but Strowman pushed him off the top and nailed a goddamn splash for a near fall! Strowman hurt his knee in the fall, but it only really mattered in making the pin.  He tried for the running powerslam again, but Rollins locked in a sleeper hold. Strowman was lowered to a knee, and nearly passed out, but he fired back up and threw Rollins over his shoulder, but Rollins nailed a knee right afterwards. Strowman kicked out at 1! Rollins hit another, and Strowman kicked out at 2! Rollins hit a third, and Strowman got the shoulder up at the very last second! Rollins tried for a fourth, but Stromwan caught him. He tried for a running powerslam, but the injured knee gave out, allowing Rollins to hit the Pedigree out of nowhere, followed by another stomp for the win. 
As Rollins posed with the belt at the top of the ramp, the Fiend met him there. The lights flashed a bit as he hit Sister Abigail and then we saw him choke Rollins out with the mandible claw. 
Grade: A-. This was another match that was way better than I thought it would be! Strowman really stepped up and was awesome in this match. Even though he had three finisher kickouts, doing that not only protected him but it put over Rollins more. Rollins played a great underdog, and sold everything beautifully. He pulled everything out of the bag and delivered a great match and a great main event. The splash from Strowman deserves a mention as well, as Strowman looked nervous as hell, but he still did it and it was a great moment. Strowman looked strong in defeat, and Rollins looked like gold in victory. And the Fiend attack afterwards was the perfect attack that it should have been. I can’t wait for that story to start up. Just great stuff from both guys and really good booking too. Match of the night.
Grade: B
Predictions: 7/11, because Sasha did technically win. 
Pros: Triple Threat; US Championship; new day vs. revival; IC championship; Raw Women’s Championship; WWE Championship; no dq; main event
Cons: smackdown women’s Championship
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