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musemash · 2 years ago

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GALLERY: 1 Michael Cacoyannis' 1977 film Painters: 2 Jacob De Wet 3 Giovanni Battista Tiepolo 4 François Perrier 5 Bertholet Flemalle 6 Nicolo Tornioli 7 Giovanni Andrea Carlone 8 Franz Anton Maulbertsch 9 Francesco Fontebasso Actors: 10 Irene Papas & Tatiana Papamoskou

IPHIGENIA'S ANCIENT CAUTIONARY MYTH STILL RESONATES – by David D. Fowler & Aeon 999

MFF marks INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY, and WOMEN'S HISTORY MONTH, by exploring an iconic work of art from many centuries ago. EURIPIDES' tragedy, IPHIGENIA IN AULIS, is one of the greatest anti-war statements ever created; and it is also a powerful commentary on the plight of women down through the ages.

EURIPIDES' powerful drama focuses on the dilemma facing KING AGAMEMNON, when the gods order him to sacrifice his own daughter. It can also be seen as a protofeminist work – highlighting perils faced by women and girls, when they are part of a militaristic, male-oriented culture with authoritarian religious leaders. Various traditions of this myth are embodied by the paintings in our image gallery.

This story is at the heart of our special feature: IPHIGENIA, the 1977 epic masterpiece, by ZORBA THE GREEK director MICHAEL CACOYANNIS. It is one of the finest depictions of a Greek tragedy, which takes a few imaginative artistic liberties with the conventions of that art form. Chief among its virtues are the powerhouse performances of IRENE PAPAS, as Queen Clytemnestra; and TATIANA PAPAMOSKOU as her daughter Iphigenia.

The videos embedded above include an extended trailer from this film – along with a graphic novel portrayal of the death of Iphigenia; and an experimental theatre adaptation of Agamemnon's ritual murder of his daughter. As an alternative metaphor, we have also included accounts of the biblical legend of Abraham being called to sacrifice his son Isaac. One is a poignant song by LEONARD COHEN; and the other a powerful depiction of WWI poet WILFRED OWEN's apocalyptic take on the same story.

An old Chinese proverb calls women "THE OTHER HALF OF THE SKY". In keeping with our desire to honor the respect being shown to women worldwide on this particular day, one of our playlists offers eloquent articles debunking stereotypes about FEMINISM. We also include items dealing with the history and meaning of these holidays, embodying more progressive attitudes toward women.

We present various retellings of Iphigenia's story, and related myths, in movies, plays, audiobooks, and operas. This includes works by composers such as CHRISTOPH WILLIBALD GLUCK, BENJAMIN BRITTEN, WAYNE SHORTER, SERGEY TANEYEV, NICOLE V. GAGNÉ, and DAVID AVIDOR. We also offer different versions of Euripides' companion piece, IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS – which tells an alternative tale, wherein the heroine is supernaturally rescued from her father's sacrifice by the goddess Artemis.

We feature works created by acclaimed directors such as PETER HALL and ANDREI KONCHALOVSKY, as well as another outstanding Cacoyannis film, THE TROJAN WOMEN. Performers include MARIA CALLAS, KATHARINE HEPBURN, VANESSA REDGRAVE, GENEVIEVE BUJOLD, ISABELLA ROSSELLINI, ARMAND ASSANTE, GRETA SCACCHI, BERNADETTE PETERS, ERIC ROBERTS, GERALDINE CHAPLIN, CHRISTOPHER LEE and ESPERANZA SPALDING.

It should be noted that some of these videos are by talented amateurs; thus, there are occasional technical issues, and a few have overly lengthy introductions. Nevertheless, they are well worth watching, if you overlook these very minor flaws. Most of the foreign language productions have English subtitles, sometimes accessed via the CC feature on YouTube videos.

We end with a section of works dealing with the fates of characters from Euripides' plays – and depictions of the Trojan War and its aftermath, by notables such as AESCHYLUS and HOMER. But first, we present further interpretations of the story of Isaac from the Book Of Genesis, one of human history's most enduring tales of child sacrifice. This is followed by the extraordinary Cacoyannis film; its availability, in a good quality copy, is what inspired us to do this post for Women's Month.

SACRIFICIAL MYTHS Story Of Isaac https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJ30w3eQR4o Abraham & The Sacrifice Of Isaac https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zb9ql-rSOs Abraham & Isaac Paintings https://fineartamerica.com/art/paintings/sacrifice+of+isaac The Old Man & The Young https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16kjENwNjDw Britten War Requiem: Offertorium https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xctltGbPL4s Iphigenia In Greek Mythology https://owlcation.com/humanities/The-Story-of-Iphigenia-in-Greek-Mythology The Sacrifice Of Iphigenia https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ay5kRC_989U Iphigenia In Aulis & Tauris https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CcBIn_PvaWs Cacoyannis' Iphigenia (1977) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5jD-IuhwLmk

MYTHS VS REALITIES Mythology & Feminist Thought https://consortium.gws.wisc.edu/conference/past-conferences/announcing-the-4w-and-wgsc-2021-conference/2021-presentations/mythology-and-feminism-the-connection-between-myth-and-feminist-thought/ Myths & Truths About Feminism https://www.theodysseyonline.com/10-myths-and-truths-about-feminism https://femalemindunleashed.com/myths-about-feminism/ https://www.mic.com/articles/96292/the-10-worst-myths-about-feminism-debunked https://www.bl.uk/sisterhood/articles/myths-and-controversies-surrounding-feminism https://medium.com/@makemuse/5-of-the-most-common-misconceptions-about-feminism-91292daa5c37 https://studybreaks.com/culture/feminism-common-stereotypes/ https://icytales.com/top-10-myths-about-feminism/ https://www.aware.org.sg/2010/02/myths/ https://www.forbes.com/sites/christinapark/2015/03/07/a-millennials-perspective-five-myths-about-modern-feminism/ https://medium.com/keepmesafe/widespread-myths-about-feminism-and-feminists-fe47456a7897 International Women's Day https://www.internationalwomensday.com/ https://www.msn.com/en-ph/news/other/international-women-s-day-women-s-history-month-101-what-you-need-to-know-about-the-celebration/ar-AA185qpU https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/other/how-women-s-rights-in-the-us-have-been-eroded-since-the-last-women-s-history-month/ar-AA18bHUg https://www.wmagazine.com/culture/womens-history-month-2023-books-feminist-reading-list https://www.forbes.com/sites/forbes-personal-shopper/2023/03/01/international-womens-day-gifts/?sh=5bc62e497ba6 National Women's History Month https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/655595/womens-history-month-facts https://www.nbcwashington.com/news/national-international/when-is-womens-history-month-everything-you-need-to-know/3289829/ https://www.history.com/topics/holidays/womens-history-month https://nationaltoday.com/national-womens-history-month/ https://news.yahoo.com/celebrate-women-history-month-female-220052929.html

IPHIGENIA AT AULIS Iphigenia At Aulis Onstage https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8yR6VwSG_wY https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTGn__ph4bY https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILyUShi5l4g Gluck: Iphigénie En Aulide https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBRU5NlQVxw https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJL2E7Aqu40 Iphigenia: A New Opera https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbeGIdyhy7c https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5erDLURRCE https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BG6ZoESYjPQ Iphigenia In Aulis: Zoom Drama https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8vF1By09Bc Iphigenia In Aulis: Audio Drama https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vm1gzYTVsbw Iphigenia At Aulis: Translations http://classics.mit.edu/Euripides/iphi_aul.html https://archive.org/details/iphigeniaataulis00euriuoft/mode/2up

IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS Iphigenia In Tauris Onstage https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqyM0hSRBt0 Gluck: Iphigénie En Tauride https://www.metopera.org/globalassets/user-information/nightly-opera-streams/week-14/playbills/feb-26-iphigenie.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ow9zpUw91J4&list=OLAK5uy_kmz32yqjO79d8FQZWtCv0AaiSOFG_ozcM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROzh7i_RSyc https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u0m07GnesPs https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=at1OhtsICt4 Iphigenia In Tauris: Audio Drama https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAjas-3kAdM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YDv5PsrIiM Iphigenia 2020: One-Woman Show https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ji75882oPgc Iphigenia In Tauris: Translations http://classics.mit.edu/Euripides/iph_taur.html https://archive.org/details/iphigeniaintauri00gluc/page/n5/mode/2up https://archive.org/details/iphigeniaintauri01goet/mode/2up

FURTHER ADVENTURES IN MYTH Agamemnon https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkJi7UG0Llk&list=PLNB6PCJBrfBooXOg2Yr_G0Y9P0FbZDGwo Oresteia https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7RQ_h46zE-s The Oresteia In 3 Minutes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kz93CoLroeU Agamemnon https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mdv3vkECqXA https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ldIJVtDG5TM The Libation Bearers https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFv5-OuaL-E The Eumenides https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xagHZoNS6DQ The Trojan Women https://ok.ru/video/2113193708195 The Odyssey https://archive.org/details/the-odyssey-1997-part-1-of-2-avi https://archive.org/details/the-odyssey-1997-part-2-of-2-avi

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limetimo · 2 years ago

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I've got 23 - not counting hamlet and wardrobe because of the above. Whoever made that list should think again

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen mum loves it

2 Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkein both my parents love it reading tolkien was not a choice

3 Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte mum loves it

4 Harry Potter series my blobros

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

6 The Bible i read a couple pages

7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte

8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell for school, liked it

9 His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman

10 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens I TRIED I HATED I DROPPED IT

11 Little Women – Louisa M Alcott

12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy

13 Catch 22 – Joseph Heller good read

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare i read a couple does that count

15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier

16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien

17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks

18 Catcher in the Rye sorta reading it rn

19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffeneger

20 Middlemarch – George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell

22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald

23 Bleak House – Charles Dickens

24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams classic, loved it

26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh

27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky picked it up in the right moment of my life (for school), go you funky lil mess of a wet cat man

28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck

29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll didnt like it

30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame

31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy

32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens

33 Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis all of them

34 Emma – Jane Austen

35 Persuasion – Jane Austen

36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis why is this one separate from the other chronicles

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres

39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden

40 Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne mum loved it and so did we

41 Animal Farm – George Orwell read it for school liked it

42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez it was ling and weird and made me feel Things but it was ok

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving

45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins

46 Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery

47 Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy

48 The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood

49 Lord of the Flies – William Golding

50 Atonement – Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi – Yann Martel

52 Dune – Frank Herbert dad loves it i liked it

53 Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons

54 Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen 55 it was alright

A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth

56 The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon

57 A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens

58 Brave New World – Aldous Huxley

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez

61 Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck I CRY EVERY TIME

62 Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov

63 The Secret History – Donna Tartt

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold

65 Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas

66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac

67 Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy

68 Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Fielding

69 Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie

70 Moby Dick – Herman Melville

71 Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens read it for school, fucking hated the little twerp and the ending, wished he would die.

72 Dracula – Bram Stoker turns out i dont like emails very much :/

73 The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett

74 Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson

75 Ulysses – James Joyce

76 The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome i read like 15 ransome books my dad loved him and so do i

78 Germinal – Emile Zola

79 Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray

80 Possession – AS Byatt

81 A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens

82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchel

83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker

84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro

85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert dont remember if i read it or just learned at it at school

86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte’s Web – EB White

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

90 The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton

91 Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad

92 The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery liked it better the second time

93 The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks

94 Watership Down – Richard Adams i dont think i could stomch it nowadays id get upset and cry. Preteen me didn't get the brutality like what is this, the hunger games??

95 A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole

96 A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute

97 The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas

98 Hamlet – William Shakespeare why is this separate from other shskespeare fhkh

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl and matilda and the fantastic mr fox and--

100 Les Miserables – Victor Hugo i read the hunchback tho does that count

How many have you read?

The BBC estimates that most people will only read 6 books out of the 100 listed below. Reblog this and bold the titles you’ve read.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen 2 Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkein 3 Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte 4 Harry Potter series 5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee 6 The Bible 7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte 8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell 9 His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman 10 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens 11 Little Women – Louisa M Alcott 12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy 13 Catch 22 – Joseph Heller 14 Complete Works of Shakespeare 15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier 16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien 17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks 18 Catcher in the Rye 19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffeneger 20 Middlemarch – George Eliot 21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell 22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald 23 Bleak House – Charles Dickens 24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy 25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams 26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh 27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky 28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck 29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll 30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame 31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy 32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens 33 Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis 34 Emma – Jane Austen 35 Persuasion – Jane Austen 36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis 37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini 38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres 39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden 40 Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne 41 Animal Farm – George Orwell 42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown 43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez 44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving 45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins 46 Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery 47 Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy 48 The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood 49 Lord of the Flies – William Golding 50 Atonement – Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi – Yann Martel 52 Dune – Frank Herbert 53 Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons 54 Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen 55 A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth 56 The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon 57 A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens 58 Brave New World – Aldous Huxley 59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon 60 Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez 61 Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck 62 Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov 63 The Secret History – Donna Tartt 64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold 65 Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas 66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac 67 Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy 68 Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Fielding 69 Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie 70 Moby Dick – Herman Melville 71 Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens 72 Dracula – Bram Stoker 73 The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett 74 Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson 75 Ulysses – James Joyce 76 The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath 77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome 78 Germinal – Emile Zola 79 Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray 80 Possession – AS Byatt 81 A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens 82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchel 83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker 84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro 85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert 86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry 87 Charlotte’s Web – EB White 88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom 89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 90 The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton 91 Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad 92 The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery 93 The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks 94 Watership Down – Richard Adams 95 A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole 96 A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute 97 The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas 98 Hamlet – William Shakespeare 99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl 100 Les Miserables – Victor Hugo

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pearlsmith25 · 2 years ago

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Asphalt Market Is Projected to Grow at a Healthy Revenues Till 2030

Asphalt is a dark, highly viscous liquid or semi-solid material that is derived from crude oil. It is commonly used in the construction industry as a binding agent for road surfaces, as well as for waterproofing roofs and other structures. Asphalt is made up of a mixture of various organic substances, including hydrocarbons, which are molecules made up of hydrogen and carbon atoms. The exact composition of asphalt can vary depending on the source of the crude oil it is derived from, as well as the processing methods used to refine it.

In road construction, asphalt is typically mixed with aggregates such as sand and gravel to create a durable and long-lasting surface. The mixture is heated and then laid down in layers, with each layer being compacted to create a smooth and even surface. Asphalt has many advantages as a paving material, including its durability, resistance to weathering and wear, and ease of maintenance. However, it can also be prone to cracking and can become slippery when wet. Proper installation and regular maintenance are important to ensure the longevity and safety of asphalt surfaces.

The asphalt market refers to the global industry that produces and distributes asphalt, a sticky, black, and highly viscous liquid or semi-solid material that is used primarily as a binder in the construction of roads, highways, and other infrastructure projects.

The asphalt market is driven by the increasing demand for road construction and maintenance, particularly in developing countries where governments are investing heavily in infrastructure to support economic growth. Other factors that are driving growth in the market include the increasing use of asphalt in the roofing and waterproofing industries, as well as the rising popularity of asphalt-based products in the manufacturing of adhesives, coatings, and sealants.

The global asphalt market is highly competitive, with a few major players dominating the industry. These companies typically operate large refineries that produce asphalt and other petroleum-based products, and they often have extensive distribution networks that enable them to reach customers around the world.

Major players operating in the global asphalt market include BP plc., Anglo American plc., Atlas Roofing Corporation, Aggregate Industries Limited, CertainTeed Corporation, GAF Materials Corporation, CEMEX S.A.B. de C.V., Colas Danmark A/S, Chevron Corporation, China National Offshore Oil Corporation, Exxon Mobil Corporation, Hanson Asphalt Runcorn, Sinopec, SemGroup Corporation, Owens Corning, etc.

The demand for asphalt is primarily driven by the construction industry, as asphalt is widely used as a binder in the construction of roads, highways, runways, parking lots, and other infrastructure projects. The growing population, urbanization, and industrialization have led to an increased need for infrastructure development, which has in turn driven the demand for asphalt.

Moreover, asphalt is also used in roofing and waterproofing applications, which has further increased its demand. It is used as a roofing material in residential and commercial buildings due to its durability, water-resistant properties, and cost-effectiveness. In addition, it is also used as a waterproofing material in various applications such as tunnels, bridges, and underground structures.

Another factor driving the demand for asphalt is the growing demand for asphalt-based products such as adhesives, coatings, and sealants, which find application in various industries such as automotive, aerospace, construction, and manufacturing.

The demand for asphalt varies regionally, with developing countries experiencing higher demand due to the ongoing investments in infrastructure development. North America and Europe also have a significant demand for asphalt due to the need for road maintenance and repair.

The asphalt market offers several advantages, including:

1. Durability: Asphalt is a highly durable material that can withstand heavy traffic and harsh weather conditions. It has a long lifespan, which makes it a cost-effective option for road construction and maintenance.

2. Versatility: Asphalt can be used in a wide range of applications, including road construction, roofing, waterproofing, and manufacturing of various products such as adhesives, coatings, and sealants.

3. Easy to install and maintain: Asphalt is relatively easy to install, and maintenance is also relatively simple and cost-effective. Asphalt roads can be quickly repaired or resurfaced, which reduces disruptions to traffic and minimizes costs.

4. Sustainable: Asphalt is a recyclable material, and it can be reused in new road construction or as a base material for new asphalt pavements. This makes it an environmentally sustainable option compared to other materials.

5. Safety: Asphalt provides a smooth and safe driving surface for vehicles, which reduces the risk of accidents and improves road safety.

6. Cost-effective: Asphalt is a relatively low-cost material compared to other options such as concrete. It also has a long lifespan, which reduces the need for frequent repairs and maintenance.

#asphalt #construction

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bandeliermusic · 2 years ago

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Ryan’s 13th Annual Favorite Music Revue - 2022

A few favorite records from this past year, hope you enjoy them. Happy trails and happy listening. - Love, Ryan

Wilco - Cruel Country

SUSS - SUSS

Natalie Lafourcade - De Todas las Flores

Big Thief - Dragon Warm Mountain I Believe in You

Jake Xerxes Fussell - Good and Green Again

Angel Olsen - Big Time

Bonny Light Horseman - Rolling Golden Holy

Tony Molina - In the Fade

Wet Leg - Wet Leg

Destroyer - Labyrinthitis

Others I enjoyed:

Aldous Harding - Warm Chris

Beirut - Artifacts

Boy Golden - Church of Better Daze

The Cactus Blossoms - One Day

Calexico - El Mirador

Carla Morrison - El Renacimiento

Charley Crockett - The Man from Waco

Courtney Marie Andrews - Loose Future

Damien Jurado - Reggae Film Star

Dean Owens - Sinner's Shrine

Dropkick Murphys - This Machine Still Kills Fascists

Futurebirds - Bloomin’ Too

John Fullbright - The Liar

John Moreland - Birds in the Ceiling

Karen Dalton - Shuckin' Sugar

Kevin Morby - This is a Photograph

Khruanbin, Leon Bridges - Texas Moon

Laura Veirs - Found Light

Lee Hazelwood - The Sweet Ride

Madison Cunningham - Revealer

MJ Lenderman - Boat Songs

Orville Peck - Bronco

The Sadies - Colder Streams

S.G. Goodman - Teeth Marks

The Soft Hills - Viva Chi Vede

Wovenhand - Silver Sash

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ikroah · 3 years ago

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My faith is almost gone, but my will is strong, and I've gotta make it big in Vegas. —“Big in Vegas,” Buck Owens (1969)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #22 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding I

Archive Links

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Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own

Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

I live! It’s been nearly three months since the last issue, and boy are my arms tired. In the meantime, I was putting out comic work elsewhere, moving apartments, and hosting a beloved friend in my home for a week, so I’ve certainly had a busy 2022.

Speaking of ‘22...this issue, #22, is the longest issue yet in terms of both page count and, I’m pretty sure, word count. It’s one hell of a talker so I hope it’s been worth the wait. Revelations! Confrontations! What could be next for our intrepid heroes? Well, it’s pretty generous to call either of them “heroes”...

The adventure will continue next ish. And lemme tell you: it’s gonna be a killer. You might even say it’ll really go out with a bang. One could even argue that Benny Gecko is going to die. Metaphorically speaking. But also literally.

“But Lou, that’s spoilers!” Aw, come on, haven’t you ever seen Columbo? It’s about how he solves it, not the suspense of whodunit. And besides, maybe I’m lying. Maybe Agnes’ll shake her charlies for the Ben-man, even, who knows? Don’t trust me about anything ever. You can’t even trust me about when these comics come out, since I posted this a day earlier than I said I would, though technically it’s Saturday in certain global time zones by now.

Original Pencils

The original pencils aren’t actually going to be included in this post like usual because there is so much to go over, production-wise. I’m really excited to get into the specifics, but I’ll be doing it over at @fallout-lou-begas sometime in the coming days. So follow me there if you’re not already, and I’ll update this description when the production notes are up and link to them here!

Two days later: Here it is!

Transcript

EXT. THE STREETS OF NEW VEGAS. The radiant lights of this preserved pre-war city beam brilliantly into the night sky. Below, the streets are full of drunks, gamblers, tourists, lovers, loners, winners, and losers, as well as those who call the city home: not only humans but SECURITRONS, too, the police robots controlled by the de facto ruler of New Vegas, MR. HOUSE. Outside the entrance to the subterranean VAULT 21 HOTEL, some vault-dwelling resident-employees are among the people.

A NEEDLE PLUNGES INTO FLESH.

CASS: And that’s it?

AGNES: That’s all there is to it.

INT. VAULT 21 HOTEL, ROOM 310. Inside, AGNES SANDS is sitting on one of two beds in her underwear; ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY has just administered her estrogen shot for her. Two dresses, one red and one blue, hang on hooks above their dresser. The dresser, the beds, and the floor are adorned with their clothes and equipment.

CASS: Hope I did a good job.

AGNES: You did fine.

CASS: And you can’t do this yourself, or something?

AGNES stands up and moves toward the bathroom.

AGNES: Oh, no, I can. I just prefer not to.

CASS: Oh, gotcha.

AGNES turns on the sink faucet and wets her face. CASS leans, sitting, against the side of the bed.

CASS: I'm the same with drinking. I tend to meet some interesting people that way.

AGNES: Huh. How fortunate.

They smile at each other from across the room.

CASS stands up and undresses, removing her shirt and pants before grabbing the blue dress hanging over the room’s dresser. Meanwhile, AGNES shaves in the bathroom. She tenses as she puts her metal straight razor to her face again and again.

CASS: Hey, about done in there?

AGNES: Yeah. Just about.

CASS (putting on dress): Can't rush beauty, right. Puts a new meaning on "dressing to kill," doesn't it?

AGNES: Yeah. How do you feel?

CASS inspects herself in a compact mirror.

CASS: Pretty good, I guess, if only because I haven't worn a dress like this in years. But this Benny guy—what is the plan, exactly? You know where he is?

AGNES (washing her hands): Well...we know he's one of the Chairmen, so he should be at The Tops. I'll case the joint, find out where—

CASS (off): Alright, Agnes, hold on.

AGNES freezes.

CASS: Just fucking stop right there.

AGNES peers out from the bathroom at CASS, who is sitting on top of her bed. She looks mad.

CASS (yelling): "Case the joint?" Are you serious? Are you some kind of fucking burglar now?

AGNES stands in the doorway, stunned.

CASS (exasperated, head in her hand): I mean, you're a master goddamn lockpick, I know that. So of course. Courier, doctor, soldier, assassin, burglar, why the hell not. You're gonna be a goddamn brahmin baron by tomorrow, too, aren't you?

AGNES: Cass, listen—

CASS (yelling): I will listen, if you start fucking talking! That's the thing!

AGNES (intense): Lower your voice.

Beat.

CASS: Sorry.

AGNES: I thought you were in a good mood.

CASS fidgets nervously with her dress.

CASS: I was, I...I am, it's not...I'm sorry, it's...

They look at each other. CASS frowns, her anger seemingly exhausted already. AGNES grimaces with uncertainty. Eventually, CASS looks away.

CASS: Look...I like you, Agnes. Like, you've been the kind of person that I needed to meet, in more ways than one.

CASS looks back at AGNES again, staring daggers.

CASS: But the more that I like you, the more that I worry I shouldn't. Because sometimes you say some crook shit like "case the joint" and it reminds me that I don't know you.

CASS (quietly, looking away again): Not really.

CASS: So yeah, I wanna have fun while I'm in Vegas. And you've scratched my back so I'll scratch yours.

CASS (glaring at AGNES): But you'd better come clean right the fuck now about where the hell you learned to pick locks and kill people, before I feed your ass to the ghouls back down in those goddamn sewers.

Beat. AGNES shrinks beneath CASS’ furious gaze. Then:

AGNES: ...are you serious?

CASS: Fuck, Agnes, what is it? Were you a raider, or in a gang? Do you think I'm gonna judge your shitty childhood or whatever? Do you not trust me?

AGNES: Cass—

CASS: Because sometimes it feels like I've trusted you way too goddamn much is all, like I'm a goddamn sap. Am I being set up, Agnes?

AGNES: No!

AGNES: I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm not trying to lie, or anything. I just...don't like to talk about it—

CASS: Oh? Well, with all due respect, tough shit.

CASS clasps her hands together, pleading and pensive.

CASS: Y'know, all of the goddamn blood money that McLafferty bought me out with went toward this room for tonight. And for these nice new clothes that don't reek of sewer shit. If you want to pay me back for that at all, friend, you can start by just...telling me what the fuck your deal is.

CASS: I’m just so sick of fucking worrying about you.

AGNES: It's hard to explain. But I'm not an assassin, or some kind of serial killer, or anything like that...I swear, Cass, that I'm not. If you still trust me at all, I promise I'll tell you everything once we're back from the Tops.

CASS: And you say that you promise?

AGNES: Completely. I promise you.

Beat. Their clothes are mingled on the floor of the bed. They stare at each other from across the room as CASS thinks it over.

CASS: Fine. But only because if there's one thing about you I know for sure, it is that you're not a liar.

CASS (standing): You're just very selective with telling the truth.

AGNES: Cass—

CASS (fed up): What!?

AGNES: Of course I trust you.

CASS is caught off-guard.

CASS puts her hand over her mouth, ponderous and troubled. Then, she smirks and she puts her hand on her hip. She’s over it, it seems.

CASS: Alright, alright, whatever. Just get dressed already.

AGNES takes the red dress from the wall.

CASS: I still want to hit the tables before we kill this guy.

The dress wrinkles in AGNES’ fists. The bedroom’s florescent light gleams off the 9mm bullet that she wears around her neck.

AGNES: ...

The bullet that CHET hand-loaded for her back in Goodsprings with lead retrieved from her skull.

AGNES: Alright.

The bullet that BENNY shot her with.

AGNES: Let’s go.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #courier six #rose of sharon cassidy #vault 21 #agnes sands #volume 02 #22 #ikroah archive

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novelconcepts · 3 years ago

Note

The night Dani sees Peter Quint, a blackout happens during the storm. The officers say that it's not safe to stay there in the middle of a storm and without a way to talk to the police if necessary. Hannah and the kids go to Owen's house. Jamie offers a ride, her little flat, clothes and a bath (since crazy Dani decided to run after Peter during the storm).

There's just one bed prompt. Maybe a small couch or chair.

They listen, which is frankly more than Dani expected when Hannah insisted on calling the police. She suspects it has less to do with the Peter Quint of it all, and more to do with the lightning strike, the cataclysm of rain, an old house plunged into deep black. No phone lines, the officers point out with weary expressions that say they are not certain Peter Quint is truly a danger--but Lord Wingrave is not without a certain amount of authority around these parts, and if any further tragedy should befall his niece and nephew, these men would find themselves overloaded on unpleasant paperwork and worse press.

Bad reasons, Dani thinks with a scowl. They ought to have gone into this field to help people, not scoff at Hannah’s fear and Dani’s unease. They ought to be doing something, not simply waving them off the property for the night. It’s listening, sort of, but it isn’t hearing.

She glances at Jamie as the officers speak--directly, she notes, to Owen, as though as the only man among them, he has defaulted to de facto lord of the manor. He looks uncomfortable, rubbing a hand through wet hair; Dani remembers him saying, I was born in Bly, wonders if he went to school with either of the men in slick uniform.

Jamie doesn’t look uncomfortable. Jamie looks angry. There’s a fire burning in her Dani suspects never entirely went out after this afternoon’s rose debacle, one that might have been tempered if they’d been able to track Quint down outside. But he’s in the wind, the product of long legs and a better awareness of the terrain. Dani, giving chase into a fresh downpour before she could think better of her choices, is still itching at the memory of his long coat vanishing into the dark.

She’d run into Jamie, instead--full-force, a bone-rattling collision that had sent them both tumbling into the sopping grass. It might have been funny, if not for the echo of Quint’s footfalls dying away.

“If he’s here?” Jamie asks now. “Quint. If he’s still here? What then?”

The officer in charge gives her a brief look, barely long enough to register detail. “If he’s here,” he says boredly, “all the better that you aren’t.”

Jamie grinds her jaw. She seems barely to be containing herself, resisting the impulse to explain in no uncertain terms that this is their home, this place Quint is intruding upon. Their home--Hannah and the kids and Dani, at least--where Quint would be trailing slimy fingers. The idea of that smirking face going through the bedrooms makes Dani shudder. It seems to press Jamie toward an unwise argument.

Without thinking, Dani reaches out, lays a hand on her shoulder. Jamie’s hair is still dripping, her jacket sodden. Her eyes, catching on Dani’s face, widen a little, her teeth unclenching.

“You have somewhere to go?” the head officer reiterates, glancing back toward the door as though dreaming of a warm car, a comfortable house far from the manor. Owen nods in Hannah’s direction.

“Mum won’t mind. Can have a little sleepover.”

“Yes!” Flora perks up. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet, leaning against Miles’ side, but her whole face switches on like a lantern now. “A sleepover!”

“How’s about it, Miles?” Hannah taps him lightly on the head. “A little evening adventure.”

He looks uncertain, but when she ruffles his hair, a slow smile creeps across his face. Dani’s relieved to see it--she’s started to believe Miles is thirty-five in a ten-year-old frame, the weight of so much loss bearing him down like an anchor. He deserves a little fun.

“And you,” Hannah adds, looking to Dani as if reading her mind. “What do you say to a night off?”

Dani blinks. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necess--”

“Chased a man into the storm,” Hannah interrupts. “Not a decision I’d approve of twice, but it was quite brave. And, forgive me dear, but you look like you could use a proper rest in the aftermath.”

That might be, Dani thinks absently, the nicest way of saying you look like shit I’ve ever heard.

“I’ll just get cleaned up real quick,” she says, “and then I’ll be perfectly fine to--”

Hannah raises a hand. “I insist. Let Owen and I handle them for the evening.”

Dani opens and closes her mouth several times. What’s the alternative? Is Hannah expecting her to stay here? Here, in a house they’re all carefully not admitting feels much bigger in the dark, huddled around the glow of policeman flashlights?

“Can crash at my place,” Jamie says, almost gruffly. “If you don't mind the company.”

Hannah looks unsurprised by this offer. Dani feels a little light-headed at the idea.

“I--I’m all muddy.”

Jamie makes a show of looking down at her own clothes, caked in wet clods of grass, soaked nearly to the skin. She raises her eyebrows in Dani’s direction as if to say, Any more sterling arguments?

Dani has none.

Jamie doesn’t say a word as they load into her truck, Dani trying her best to shrink down to inhabit as limited a space as possible. Her legs ache with the effort of holding her feet aloft, her thighs pressed together to prevent staining the whole seat with grime. Jamie glances in her direction, pulling carefully out onto the road, and Dani could swear she’s trying not to smile.

“Know what I do for a living, don’t you?”

Dani nods. Jamie clears her throat.

“Then should go without saying you’re not the first to track mud into the truck. Relax.”

Embarrassed, Dani does as she’s bid. From the corner of her eye, she sees Jamie’s mouth twitch again--sees Jamie’s hands resting comfortably at ten and two, Jamie’s shoulders slightly rounded as though by holding her posture firm, she can punch a hole through the sheeting rain. She doesn’t seem nervous in the least to be driving through this mess with Dani huddled beside her.

Jamie, Dani is starting to think, doesn’t get nervous.

Well, that makes one of us.

She has nothing to be nervous about, is the thing. Chasing a strange man into a storm, racing after him with nothing but a fire poker and a hot protective impulse--that should have made her nervous. Should have scared the shit out of her. And it hadn’t. She’d felt bizarrely well-equipped for the decisions she was making, at the time. Peter Quint, she’d been certain, should have been the nervous one.

But now, sitting with wet hair and mussed clothes beside a woman she’s held barely three conversations with, Dani feels distinctly out of her element. No kids. No easy warmth of a carefully-sewn-together family opening its arms to let her in. Just a truck, rattling along a slick road on its way to a tiny town she’s never set foot in before.

And a woman with wet curls plastered to her forehead, stealing tiny glances at Dani like she’s not quite sure what to do with her.

“Flat’s small,” Jamie says, as if apologizing, as she parks outside a pub that looks older than any establishment in Dani’s hometown. “Don’t need much. But there are no screamin’ kids.”

Flora and Miles aren’t much for screaming without reason, but Dani thinks she takes Jamie’s point all the same. Quiet, Jamie is trying to say. Dani can properly rest here, Jamie is trying to say. Jamie doesn’t mind offering up her space.

“Ready?” The rain is still coming down in a torrent. Jamie’s hand is positioned at the doorhandle, Jamie’s posture strung tight. “Make a break for it on three. One--two--”

They run, damp clothes made soggy all over again, and Dani is surprised to hear herself make a whooping sound of joy as she splashes through puddles. Jamie, she thinks, could move faster--Jamie’s got a runner’s stamina when she puts her mind to it--but she’s jogging along at an easy pace, refusing to leave Dani behind. Her hand catches once on Dani’s sleeve, pulling her to the stairs behind the pub, guiding her up to a door at the top.

“Storms like these,” Jamie says when they’ve tumbled breathlessly into her home, “remind me of bein’ a kid. Sitting in school, hoping the power’d go so they’d send us home early.”

“Did it ever happen?” Dani wraps her arms around herself, trying not to shiver, trying not to drip too expansively across the scored floorboards. Jamie grins.

“Once. I was seven. Spent the whole day out in it anyway, caught the worst cold of my life. Best goddamn day a kid could want.”

She looks so at home here, as Dani watches her pull off her boots, drape her jacket lazily over a chair, stride around turning on lights. At the manor, Jamie is casual enough, rarely inclined to rush or worry, but here, it’s instantly clear she knows every creak in the floor, every stubborn lightswitch, every inch of a domain that is entirely Jamie.

A domain she has, for no reason at all, opened up to Dani tonight. The reality of it crashes home all at once, landing hard. Jamie barely knows her, and still is willing to give Dani a place to stay. Jamie barely knows her, and still is holding out a gray towel and a bundle of clothes, her smile crooked.

“Thought you might like to get out of those.”

A spike of warmth makes its way up Dani’s spine, settling somewhere around her ears. She crushes it down, forcing herself to accept the sweats and t-shirt with a grateful smile of her own.

“Thank you. Honestly, you didn’t have to do any of this--”

“The rain,” Jamie says easily, “is the fun part. The cold, not so much. Bath’s this way.”

Bathroom, Dani assumes she means--until Jamie gestures at the little tub, barely big enough for a woman her size. She looks marginally embarrassed for the first time, but it’s a resolute sort of embarrassment, as though Jamie has little patience for it.

“Not much,” she says. “But still better than catching ill. Take however long you like.”

Dani watches her back out of the room, a tumble of unfamiliar emotions in her chest. Someone offering up everything--home, clothes, bathtub--without asking for something in return is strange. Someone doing that much and then leaving, peaceable as the turn of a new day, is unheard of. She hesitates, waiting at the closed door for signs that Jamie will change her mind--or knock, having thought of something else Dani might need--and nothing comes. This room has become, so long as Dani wants it, her space. Jamie will take it back only when Dani’s finished.

Unwelcomely, she tries to imagine Eddie doing this very thing. Eddie, who only refrains from haunting her European adventures with postcard and phone call because he has no idea how to find her. Eddie, who would think the offer of clothes and a hot bath automatically come with other perks, and who would smile as he stepped in to collect like he couldn’t imagine her wanting to be left alone.

She shakes her head. Eddie is gone, and she is here, and Jamie isn’t him. Is so unlike him, in fact, it’s hard to imagine them standing in the same room.

And why, some little part of her pipes slyly up, are you comparing them in the first place?

She shivers, turning on the water, letting it run as hot as possible before sinking in. She leans her head back against a wadded-up washcloth, surveying the simplicity of the bathroom--single toothbrush, single cup for water, a minute assortment of hairbrush, hair ties, sunscreen. There is a dried rose framed beside the door, a small bunch of purple-and-white flowers she can’t name in a tiny windowsill vase.

It’s all very discreet, all very Jamie. To look at it with this much freedom, to be trusted alone in a space that has belonged to no one else, makes her heart pound.

She’s only being nice. And so what? What does it matter?

It matters. Even if she never says so, even if she never lets it out of her heart, Dani can’t deny that it matters. Like it mattered watching Jamie walk into the kitchen earlier this week, glancing at her with an easy raise of brows like she was thinking, Sure. You can stay. You’re one of us.

Jamie, calling her Poppins, telling her she’s doing great, offering her flat without a second’s pause. None of it warranted. None of it asked for. All of it so incredibly welcome.

She stays in the bath until the shivers ease out, carefully soaping her hair with the little bottle of shampoo on the windowsill. A different scent and brand than her own, and as she’s rinsing clean, she realizes she will smell like Jamie now. If for only a night, her hair--and the clothes Jamie gently pressed into her hands--will hold just a little bit of the gardener’s influence.

The warmth she’s beginning to attribute to Jamie sweeps through her again at the idea. That, and the awareness that these are Jamie’s things hugging her body. Jamie’s belongings, offered up like she feels not the least bit possessive about her living space. Sure. You can stay. You’re one of us.

“Warm?” Jamie asks when she finally steps back out of the bathroom. Her hair is still wet, though she’s changed into a clean white shirt and sweatpants of her own. Dani nods, confused when Jamie grins.

“What?”

“I think,” Jamie says placidly, “this is the first time I’ve seen you out of pastels. Suits you.”

Dani glances down. The threadbare black t-shirt bears a jagged white London Calling in peeling letters. She can’t help smiling.

“Maybe I’m a secret punk fan.”

“Are you?” Jamie sounds interested. Dani shakes her head.

“Sorry, no. Always open to learning, though.”

Here it is again: that funny, twisting feeling in her stomach that says she is at home with Jamie. That Jamie is easy and warm, despite the anger simmering somewhere deep down and a tendency toward cropping her sentences with swear words. That Jamie has opened her home to Dani only because Jamie has opened to her, on some level neither of them is entirely sure how to approach.

“Thank you,” she says, because it’s easier than putting this feeling into words. “For all of this. You didn’t have to.”

Jamie shrugs. “Wanted to. You haven’t had an easy couple of days. Sometimes, a little quiet goes a long way.”

She’s seated on the arm of the couch, bare feet dangling an inch off the floor. Looking at her, Dani can’t entirely wrap her mind around the idea that she’s only known this woman for a couple of days. That she doesn’t, in fact, know much of anything about her at all.

And still, when Jamie rises and begins arranging pillow and blanket on the couch, Dani’s stomach performs a backflip she’d never come close to feeling with Eddie.

“That’s really kind of you,” she says, the words a blind effort to distract from her trembling hands. “I really don’t need much, you don’t have to go to any trouble--”

Jamie glances over her shoulder. “No trouble. Bed’s just that way.”

Dani turns to look. Sure enough, behind a pulled-back curtain, she can just make out Jamie’s mattress and frame. “I--I mean, I won’t be bothering you, if that’s what you--”

“What?” Straightening, Jamie frowns. “No, I mean, it’s yours. Take it. I sleep on the couch half the goddamn time anyway, it’s no--”

“I am not,” Dani interrupts, “taking your bed, Jamie.”

Not since her last argument with Miles has she been engaged in such a standoff. Jamie, still holding a pillow, looks ready to chain herself to the couch. Dani, heady with the inescapable awareness of Jamie’s shampoo rinsed out of her own hair, can’t have that. It’s too much. Clothes and space and ride--all of that, she can accept. But foisting Jamie from her own bed?

“I’m not doing it,” she says. Her arms are folded, her mouth pulling into a smile she can’t for her life shake. “I’m told I'm very stubborn, so you might as well just let me have that couch now.”

“I--” For the first time all night, Jamie seems to be at a loss. “I’m--aiming for chivalry, here, Poppins.”

“You’ve been nothing less,” Dani assures her. “A white knight, really. But I’m afraid this is where I have to draw the line.”

“I sleep on it all the time.”

“So, it’s my turn.”

Jamie’s whole face seems on edge of some kind of collapse--though into laughter or upset, Dani can’t begin to guess. She has a brief flash of possibility, the two of them standing on either side of the couch all night, arguing well into daylight over who ought to take the proper night’s sleep.

“You’ve got kids to handle in the morning,” Jamie says reasonably, proving her point.

“You spent all day working in the sun,” Dani volleys in return. She thinks for a moment, then adds, “Also, I knocked you into a puddle earlier, and you didn’t get a nice warm bath.”

“Didn’t need one.” Jamie looks exasperated. “Poppins, come on. This doesn’t have to be a big bloody deal.”

It doesn’t, Dani agrees. It really doesn’t. All Jamie has to do is step out of the way, step behind that curtain, put herself to bed where she belongs.

Or, alternatively--

It’s coming out of her mouth before she can stop it. Before she can run through all the reasons not to suggest this very thing. Before she can pin down the butterflies having a dogfight in her stomach and make a decision based in good judgment.

“Look, if you’re that committed to making me sleep in the bed, come join me.”

Jamie nearly drops the pillow. Her calm has utterly vacated the flat, leaving behind a woman who looks--if Dani isn’t much mistaken--much nearer to frantic than she’s ever seen Jamie before. Much nearer to the kind of nervous Dani had been on the ride over.

“I,” she says. “That--I shouldn’t--”

“It’s the best compromise,” Dani says, trying to sound reasonable. Trying to sound as though the invitation to share Jamie’s bed isn’t making her entire body run with sudden electricity. “Neither of us is very big, I’m sure we can fit.”

“I’m--sure we can.” Jamie is grimacing. Jamie looks pained. If she had an elegant way out, Dani would take it back simply to erase that look from Jamie’s face, a look that says Jamie would rather sleep in her tiny bathtub than wherever Dani is.

Elegant way out, she can’t find, and she’s tired. Tired, and buzzing with nerves, and somehow, the au pair wins out over all possible variants of Dani Clayton. “It isn’t that bad an idea,” she says, her voice steady. “I don’t even snore.”

This breaks something open between them. She can’t put her finger on just what it is, or why, but suddenly Jamie is laughing, and Dani is grinning, and she knows the stalemate is at its end. It’s been too long a night. There’s just no point.

“Here,” she adds, settling at the edge of the bed, watching Jamie switch off the lights and creep closer as though trying not to startle a skittish animal. “I’ll lay right on the edge, you won’t even have to know I’m here--”

“Don’t be silly,” Jamie says. She hesitates; Dani wonders if she’s giving a final chance for Dani to shoo her away, to choose a night spent alone after all. She thumps the bedspread with a flat palm, staring meaningfully at Jamie until the mattress sinks beneath the weight of au pair and gardener alike.

“See?” she can’t stop herself saying. “We fit.”

Jamie stares at her, a lingering gaze Dani couldn’t decipher on her best day. She opts to ignore it, stretching out under the rumpled covers. Beside her, Jamie slides a hand beneath her head, staring up at the ceiling.

“Not so bad,” Dani says, wishing she could shut up, wishing she could stop thinking--about Jamie’s head on the pillow beside her, about Jamie’s scent sunk into this pillow, about the indent of Jamie’s body in this old mattress where maybe no one else has ever lain. Jamie makes a low sound in her chest.

“Long day.”

“So long.” Was it only this morning Dani was having a small panic attack, the strain of a new job on top of familiar guilt too heavy to bear? Was it only this afternoon she’d grabbed Jamie’s shoulder, pulled her back from storming off to skin Miles alive?

Was it really only this evening she’d stalked out after Peter Quint, crashed headlong into Jamie, listened to police officers warn them all away from the manor in a blackout?

Jamie clears her throat. Dani’s starting to think it’s a nervous habit--Jamie seems to do it only around her. Why on earth would I make her nervous? “Comfortable?” she asks the ceiling. Dani nods.

In the dark, the bed seems smaller. The pillows are touching, the blankets bridging the brief gap between Jamie’s right leg and Dani’s left. In the dark, Jamie’s breath is audible, the smell of rain and shampoo and clean clothes twisting together into a single knot.

In the dark, Dani thinks, they could be anyone. Not gardener and au pair, but anyone, bound by a single unpredictable night.

She wonders if they should talk--about Peter Quint, about the tension of the evening, about the kids, or the roses, or any number of little odd moments around the manor. She wonders if Jamie expects her to ask questions--who Quint is, what he was to Rebecca Jessel, what he might be doing skulking around the house.

She can’t quite find it in her. It’s too warm, too soft, the silence as inviting as the rustle of Jamie’s borrowed clothes against her skin. Laying in the dark, Jamie’s foot nearly touching her own, listening to the storm pound the windowpanes, Dani is breathing easier than she has in months.

“I’m glad,” she says quietly, “you’re here.”

Jamie’s head rustles the pillowcase, turning to look at her. “Yeah?”

Dani smiles. “Yeah. I can’t explain it, but I feel...safer.” Something sharpens behind her ribcage, something that begs her to add, With Hannah, with Owen, with the kids, too. She doesn’t. It’s true, but it’s also not really what she means.

“He doesn’t know where to find you,” Jamie says, and for a moment, Dani wonders how she could possibly be talking about Eddie. Then Jamie adds, “I hate that fucker. So does Owen. Everyone is safe tonight.”

Right. Peter Quint. Of course. “I’m glad,” Dani repeats. She feels the mattress shift as Jamie carefully settles in. “Jamie?”

“Mm?”

Too many things to say. Too many questions to ask. Too many of those butterflies winging around as Jamie’s elbow bumps her, as Jamie’s breath brushes her cheek. She shuts her eyes, the simple image of Jamie’s gaze inches away too much to handle.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Poppins,” Jamie murmurs. And though Dani’s heart is racing, though her skin is hot, though the storm outside is brutal and Jamie’s bed is much smaller than she’d thought--she finds herself relaxing. Finds herself thoughtlessly shifting to a more comfortable position on her side. Finds herself, even, leaning in toward Jamie’s warmth as the sound of her breathing shallows.

For the first time in what feels like years, Dani Clayton sleeps.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #clearly an AU all things considered--ghosts didn't feel like they suited this one

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dogcunt · 3 years ago

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WARNING : I'm just an addict ... addicted to music. There are people who are born to make music, o8 thers are born to hearing. Whenever was part of this second group. Maybe it's. a habit, I gotta use, even if it 's rock, jazz or the quiet storm. Great pictures of the things I love - music, painting, books, photography, architecture, design, women, and more. I love music more than lasagna. Better to burn out than fade away. The older you get, the better life gets. But time also seems to be accelerating, the clock running too fast. So, looking at those early days, everything is very slow, stretched, and great significance. The most recent time, I spent busy with simple things.People think rock and roll is only about teenage rebellion, but why can not exist old rebel too? THE RESIDENTS is my Biggest Addiction, and,THE RED KRAYOLA, FRANK ZAPPA, CAPTAIN BEEFHEART, THE VELVET UNDERGROUND, KING CRINSOM, OLD TIME RELIJUN - ARRINGTON DIONYSO, R. STEVIE MOORE, SHRIMP BOAT, MINIMAL COMPACT, THIS HEAT, COIL, SKELETON CREW, HARRY PARTCH, HOME and GARDEN, SMEGMA,THE SUN CITY GIRLS, TRAGIC MULATTO, WEEN, THE EX, LONG FIN KILLIE, VIRGIN PRUNES, AND ALSO THE TREES, MOONDOG,THE WORK, THE FIBONACCIS, LEGENDARY PINK DOTS, THE NECKS, CLINTON HENSLEY, CLOUD CULT, SACCHARINE TRUST, MODEST MOUSE, SCOTT WALKER, PROTOMARTYR, BONGWATER - (MARK KRAMER), SHOCKABILLY, RENALDO & LOAF, BUTHOLE SURFERS, MISSION OF BURMA, DAVID THOMAS,THE GO-BETWEENS, WALL OF VOODO, THROBBING GRISTLE, LONG FIN KILLIE,THE DARKSIDE,THE MUSIC TAPES,THE BETTER BEATLES, FIFTY FOOT HOSE, OLIVIA TREMOR CONTROL,THE LOS ANGELES FREE MUSIC SOCIETY ( Rick Potts, Joe Potts, Chip Chapman, Tom Recchion, who worked at the store, had formed Two Who Do Duets with Harold Schroeder in March of 1975, Ace Farren Ford and the Professor (who performed as the duo Ace & Duce), Dennis Duck, and Richard Snyder), Doo-Doettes, Tom Recchion, John Wiese, CHEER-ACCIDENT, OXBOW, Fredrik Nilsen, Godley & Creme, The Bill Jones Show, Blah Blah Blah, Blitzoids, Bomis Prendin, Cardiacs, TONE DOGS( Amy Denio, Fred Chalenor),The Cheepskates, Confusional Quartet, Jim Copp & Ed Brown, German Shepherds, Freshly Wrapped Candies, Gerry & The Holograms, Ostrich Von Nipple - Nolan Cook, "Blue" Gene Tyranny, Ptôse, Steaming Coils, HENRY FLINT, Robert Ashley, THINKING FELLERS UNION LOCAL 282, SWANS, CAN, FAUST, CASSIBER,TOM CORA, TELEVISION,THE MODERN LOVERS, SNAKEFINGER, TREES SPEAK, MILES DAVIS, SUN RA, KRAFTWERK, ANAL MAGIC & REV. DWIGHT FRIZZELL, MICHAEL YONKERS, RAYMOND SCOTT, SLAPPY HAPPY, ART BEARS, NAKED CITY, HENRY COW, JOHN ZORN, JOHN CAGE, THE DELTA NUDES, MARVIN PONTIAC, JOE BYRD and The Field Hippies,The Scene Is Now, FRED FRITH, Philip Perkins, JANDEK, HYBRID KIDS,THIS KIND of PUNISHMENT, FRED LANE, DEEP FREEZE MICE,THE DEVIANTS, MONKS,THE SHAGS, THE SLITS,THEE Oh SEES, WOMEN, BLURT, PRAM, BAND OF SUSANS, THE MARS VOLTA, THE BARK PSYCHOSIS, HUGO LARGO,THE PAINTEENS, STUMP, CERTAIN GENERAL, PINBACK, THE CHURCH,THE THREE JOHNS, CHROME, PRIMUS-LES CLAYPOOL, EUGENE CHADBOURNE, ESKIMO, HALF JAPANESE, MINUTEMEN, ARAB STRAP,FUGAZI, GLAXO BABIES, THE SEA AND CAKE, SAVAGE REPUBLIC, TUXEDOMOON, XTC, U.S,MAPLE, THE PAPER CHASE, MASS, PERFORMING FERRET BAND, LAUGHING CLOWS, ... AN THE HIPSTERS, The Grinning Plowman, Crawling Chaos, Suburban Lawns, SULFUR, ARAB ON RADAR, THE CHINESE STARS, RUN ON, DON CABALLERO, SLEEP, OM, EARTH, EX MODELS, TORTOISE, NEW WET KOJAK, TOBY DAMMIT, NOLAN COOK, ERIC DREW FELDMAN, CHARLES BOBUCK, CINDY LEE, DRY CLEANING, BEATRICE DILLON, WOMEN, Fontaines D.C,Porridge Radio, Scissor Girls, TV On The Radio, Motherhead Bug, COP SHOOT COP, VAMPIRE RODENTS, JUNE OF 44,THE BOOKS, UI, HIM, JOAN OF ARC, CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN, FIREWATER, BLIND IDIOT GOD, CUL DE SAC, DANIEL SMITH - DANIELSON FAMILE ....... Other musical priorities are: THE FEELIES, PERE UBU, THE CLASH, JOY DIVISION, MEDIUM MEDIUM, TIN KINSELLA - JOAN OF ARC, CAP N ´JAZZ, OWLS, GHOSTS OF VODKA, MAKE BELIEVE, OWEN, THE CORAL, DANNY COHEN, CAR SEAT HEADREST, IDDLES, THE BETTER-BEATLES, DARKSIDE,THE MEMBRANES, THEATRE OF HATE, NOCTURNAL P

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neonponders · 3 years ago

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Head canon time:

Okay okay okay okayokayokay so this post has super cute art, but the reblog comment on it aligned with something that’s been percolating in my brain for a ~while~ now:

Eleven as Steve’s sister.

Obviously neither Steve nor Eleven have any idea. From the time El escapes the lab, they don’t interact much. Even if they’re in the same room, they kind of bounce around each other, because...why else would they? Steve’s at least five years older and she’s still building her social skills/confidence, especially around men.

But then Steve gets his hair cut short, and the back likes to curl very similarly to how El’s did when hers was short. Their hair needs its own weight to pull it straight.

And it’s dark brown. Followed by clear brown eyes.

It’s not enough for anyone to connect the dots, of course, but then El’s “mother” dies. Her mind had been a flickering light for a long time, eventually her heart began to match. But when a heart stops, it stops.

Her sister calls Hopper, in case El wants to know, and they show up, at the very least, to attend the funeral and to help the sister go through dusty boxes. Maybe there’s a picture of El’s mother that she wants...

Instead they find surrogacy papers.

Old bank statements.

Apparently at the time of her involvement with government conspiracy, she had been very down on her luck. She made the mistake of doubling up on volunteering to be a surrogate mother, as well as whatever the hell the Hawkins Library did to her.

But the names on the papers are John and Eliza Harrington.

“Like...Steve?” El asks when he finally has gaped at the papers for too long.

Hopper inhales because he isn’t sure when he did that last and scratches his face. “Yeah...like Steve.”

He has mixed emotions: the empathetic devastation at losing a kid, but also the relief that this involves someone already in the know.

They go over to Steve’s house.

The guy answers the door with a slice of pizza in his hand, still chewing. “Hi, Hop. Ellie.”

She offers a small smile. “Steve.”

“Are your parents home, kid?”

He shook his head and swallowed. “Just left this morning. They have a time-share condo in Mexico.”

“You didn’t go with them?”

Steve scoffs while turning around back into the house. “My idea of a good time isn’t with my parents. What d’you need?”

“Well,” Hopper sighs, feeling too big in the foyer. Eleven stabs his hip with a finger and he begins the tedious process of unlacing his boots. “I need to go through your parents’ papers. You got an attic, a cellar, an office?”

Steve, bless him, looks genuinely clueless. “Uh. Yeah...are we in trouble for something?”

“Not in trouble, no. I just wanna cross reference something.”

Bless him twice, because he actually lets Hopper into his attic. His father’s office. Then his mother’s.

He finds it in his mother’s bedroom. It was just a shot in the dark to try the safe in the closet, but so many people actually keep their safes unlocked for easy access.

Hospital documents. Even ultrasound photos.

“Jane Elizabeth...Harrington?” Steve chirps over his shoulder.

He looks up at the chief, who’s rubbing his beard again. Their heads turn to Eleven sitting on Mrs. Harrington’s bed. “My name’s Jane.”

Those big brown eyes blink between her and Hopper. “How do you know that? I thought you came from a lab?”

Hopper intercepted, “She used her,” he gestured vaguely to his own head, “to find her mother. Or...the surrogate your parents paid for.”

“And where’s she?”

“Dead,” said Eleven.

Hopper reiterated, “She passed about two weeks ago. We found your parents’ names in her paperwork.”

“But - what happened? How does a baby just go missing? Better question: why don’t I have super powers?”

Hopper had already read the hospital’s apology and refund of the Harrington’s funds, insurance, the works. “I think that asshole...Brenner...claimed the baby for his work, early enough that it could be written off as a miscarriage. Whatever they did to El’s mother, whatever went on in that lab, landed her with her abilities. It’s nothing to covet, all right.”

Steve looked winded. He crossed his arms and let himself collapse against the wall. “So...what do we do?”

“Uh...” Hopper fanned his face with the ultrasound pictures. “There isn’t a lot we can do. Telling your parents would open up a lot of closed doors that we can’t really afford to open. Dr. Owens, being the swell guy he is, provided me paperwork that grants El as my kid.

“But.

“You already know each other. You already contributed to saving the world together. So...I think that’s up to the two of you.”

Both of them, for all they’d been through, just looked like kids. They were kids, even if Steve now stood in his twenties. And he stood off the wall, now, to approach his sister.

“Can I, uhm...can I hug you?”

El slid off the high bed, easily falling against his body for arms to wrap tightly around her. They stayed like that for a long moment, then Hopper joined them to rub between their shoulder blades.

“Oh god. You’re dating Mike Wheeler.” El hummed a curious sound and he elaborated, “Am I gonna have to pound on him if he pisses you off?”

“I wish you would,” Hopper confirmed.

Fast forward to Mike being extremely confused at his girlfriend suddenly spending a lot of time with Steve Harrington, of all people.

“Maybe she’s gotten a taste for older men?” Lucas teased, and got punched in the shoulder for it.

Max’s eyes rolled but she didn’t grace that with an answer.

Mike fumed, “She was supposed to be with me today! Then she called and said she had other plans - ”

Max chimed, “Are you sure you had plans? Or that you had a plan but she beat you to it?”

“It doesn’t matter! I see her walking around with Steve Harrington all the time and it’s weird!”

Will said for nobody in particular, “We’re not the ones to judge weird anymore.”

Lucas countered, “Or we’re the experts on weird. Speaking of, where the hell is Dustin?”

“With Steve,” Max grinned right at Mike, and stood up. “Speaking of, my ride’s probably here.”

“Where are you going?” Lucas asked.

“Over to Steve’s.”

The boys looked at each other and ran for their shoes. Sure enough, they left the Wheelers’ basement, circled around the house, and found the blue Camaro waiting in the cul-de-sac.

“Woah woah woah, what the hell is this?” Billy said hoarsely. He peered over his sunglasses at the teenagers filing into his backseat.

Max shoved a bottle of water towards him. “You’re not drinking enough, again.”

“Don’t bitch at me. Tell your friends to scram.”

“Are you really going over to Steve’s?” Will began.

“What do you know about Steve hanging out with my girlfriend?” Mike joined.

“Steve’s got a pool, right?” Lucas directed at Max.

Billy revved his engine with a sharp right turn, throwing all of them to one side of the car. Max held her head from where it had hit the window. “Cool it, you shouldn’t even be driving in the first place.”

“My blood did not turn black for this bullshit.”

The kids in the back stared out of the windows like Loch Nora was a safari tour. At the sound of the Camaro’s engine, Steve trotted down the slope of the lawn in swimming trunks with a towel around his shoulders, waving them through the gate.

Will and Lucas sprinted after him. Mike followed at a skeptical pace while Max lingered for Billy’s sake. No one noticed that Billy wore pink and turquoise swimming trunks that fit more to Steve’s taste.

Mike sure as hell noticed the red and purple, woven friendship bracelets that El and Steve wore, though. The pale, skinny nerd just stared, dumbfounded between Hopper floating contently over the pool, El laughing in a one-piece covered in hibiscus flowers, and Steve sitting at the foot of Billy’s lounge chair.

Then Robin strolled through the gate with a stack of pizza and chicken wing boxes. “All right, we ready? What are you doing, dweeb? It’s a 101 degrees out. Get wet.”

And shoved Mike Wheeler right into the pool.

#steve harrington #eleven #ficlet #neonponders #post s3 #harringrove #for the non-americans:#40º C is 100º F #hot as f!ck #also I just wanted something where steve wasn't scared shitless of his pool #robin buckley

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justapoet · 4 years ago

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falling for you

Three times Carlos had had his heart broken and one he could mend it.

2.5k

As a child, seeing a stray dog searching for food would be something to break Carlos' heart ― it still is, but he learned, as the years passed, that he couldn't help everyone. As a teenager, movies about dogs who died and listening to what people had to say on every single subject that didn't have to do with them would also be something to break his heart. As an adult, consequently, as a cop, humanity ― and the lack of it ― would be daily breaking the man's heart.

But, those were heartbreaks that he learned to deal with. Leaving dog food for a few stray dogs at his street, avoiding any Hollywood project that involved dogs, or pretending he was deaf when people started to mascarade cruelty with honesty. He also would repeat that "not everyone can be saved" after every shift, so he would not drive himself insane every night.

He didn't know, only, that none of those heartbreaks could've prepared him to see sadness and loneliness inside the most beautiful and shiny eyes he's ever seen.

He's been in love before, for a few times. If being honest, he could bet something around two or three, all of them being different for him to feel.

The first time was when he was thirteen, and that was this sweet boy that used to sit by his side at science classes. He never really talked about it, but he knew he could be in love with Morgan when, every time they hugged each other, a silly smile would come to his face.

But he never really tried anything. Firstly, because he was way too shy to directly talk to someone, and secondly because he would always imagine that it was nothing, and maybe it wasn't worth the risk. They were young, after all, and he was well aware that it was practically impossible for any relationship at their age not to have an end. He didn't like ends at all, so he would tell himself that it wasn't it. He never fell in love before that, so maybe he was just messing things up. It stopped hurting the next summer.

Falling in love with Morgan was easy and unnoticed. If he fell in love at all.

The second time, he was fifteen. There was this cute boy, always smiling and being kind and lovely, mainly with his girlfriend. Honestly, he would always laugh remembering how he loved to imagine what could be different in another reality, and how it lasted until he was seventeen and finished high school. It was even funnier to look back at those nights he would hold his pillow and let himself be sad for someone so out of reach.

Falling in love with Trevor was funny and lasting.

The last time still haunted the corner of his dreams. He was twenty-three, a young cop starting to get recognized by his supervisors, and he also dreamed about finding something ― someone ― as stable as his life was being.

He thought he had found that in Declan. It was sweet and soft, at the beginning. He was a kind, caring and picture-perfect man anyone could ever dream about. Until all those dreams became nightmares right in front of his eyes, and he seemed to be trapped in a severe case of dream paralysis.

He couldn't remember when the verbal aggression started, but he remembers the first time he stopped eating and worked out till exhaustion just because Declan said something about his thighs. He couldn't remember when he stopped talking, but he does remember the first few times the man said his voice was too weird and his opinions were shallow and irrelevant. He couldn't make himself remember when the first punch came, but he surely remembers the voice of the dispatcher telling him that the police were on their way.

He didn't remember when he last looked in the mirror, but he could never forget how his sergeant looked at him, that night.

That was a kind of heartbreak he never thought he would have to deal with himself. And it was so worse to think that what hurt the most weren't his broken ribs or the bruises all over his skin, but the way his heart seemed to be so small and so... Wasted. And what was even more painful was that that man didn't only leave his love aside, but made him leave himself behind in the darkness and doubt.

Falling in love with Declan was a mistake.

Carlos could still remember the pain of each one of the situations. How he would forget his feelings for Morgan by using the word "friend" again and again, or how he would just smile at Trevor and give advice about where to take Sarah on their anniversary. He could still remember the sleepless nights he spent at the hospital, the cruelly painful therapy sessions, or how ridiculous it was for a cop to flinch at anyone suddenly raising their voice or approaching him too fast or suddenly.

And yet, that none of those heartbreaks could've prepared him to see sadness and loneliness inside the most beautiful and shiny eyes he's ever seen. Nothing he'd been through could've made it hurt less to see tears streaming down his cheeks and his lips pressed so his sobs weren't too loud.

"TK?" he called as he opened the door. His eyebrows were almost pressed together, worrying at the moment he heard the knock on the door and not the keys clinging. "Babe?"

He moved so TK could walk in, and Carlos closed the door as TK sat on the couch, his knees brought up close to his chest and his elbows resting over it, his head buried in his arms. Carlos approached carefully, his steps soft against the floor. He sat beside his boyfriend, looking at him and waiting for anything; any move, word, sound, whatever. His hands were on his lap, and he didn't move at all.

"She's leaving again," TK said, still hiding his head on his arms, his voice heavy with tears and muffled by the position. "didn't even say a thing, she..." and a sob interrupted his sentence. Carlos stood still, not knowing what to say. TK was talking about Gwyn? Didn't she and Owen decide to try again? Weren't they expecting a baby together?

He had clearly missed something.

After a few minutes, TK was still crying, and he couldn't stop himself even if he felt pathetic. Carlos got closer, his knee slightly touching the side of TK's leg, and asked "Can I touch you, Ty?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he let his body slowly bend to the side, and Carlos quickly opened his arms so his boyfriend could make himself comfortable. TK put his head against Carlos' shoulder and his hand gripped tightly to the t-shirt the cop was wearing, as Carlos' arms were circling the smaller body and holding him tight. His hand drew circles on TK's back, trying to calm him down for the next few minutes until the paramedic was only sniffing quietly.

"Do you want to talk about it, babe?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. TK went silent for a while before saying anything, his tears, also silent, making Carlos' shoulder wet and his heart small.

"She's leaving," he said, his voice hoarse. Carlos couldn't be sure which were more broken; if TK's words and voice, or if his own heart. "My mom. She's leaving, going to New York again and-" he stopped, just for his next words to sound filled with anger and pain. "And she didn't even think about telling me".

Carlos kept quiet, waiting for TK to say everything he needed to.

"What was the point of all of this?" he asked, after a few amount of time.

"The point?" Carlos asked softly, considerably curious.

"Why did she come to Texas after all?" he said again. "Because I was shot? Because I can't remember a moment she sat by my side and talked to me. I can't remember of a second she asked if I was okay, or what was going on in my life" TK moved his head, looking at Carlos then. "The only time I heard her talking about me as if she was worried, was when she was blaming my father about me getting shot or about my overdose" he laughed humorless, looking at the ground. Carlos wished so bad he could take it all away. "And that's even ridiculous because they don't even remember that today's..." and he stopped himself.

Carlos frowned at his reaction to the half-said sentence.

"Today?" Carlos asked. "What is today?"

TK tried to pull away and Carlos let him, seeing how he seemed to try to hide among the furniture. He looked down, biting his lip and curling his body in a ball.

"Ty, babe" he called again, getting closer and touching his boyfriend's arm as he didn't pull away. "Amor, what is today?"

He murmured something that Carlos couldn't understand.

"Cariño..." he called again, and TK sighed.

"One year," he said. "I'm one year sober, today".

Carlos' eyes opened wide, and he let go of TK's arm for a second in his choked reaction. TK lowered his head as if he was ashamed of admitting it. Carlos couldn't help but smile, suddenly, and he made his way to be kneeling in front of his boyfriend.

"Ty!" he said. "Oh, God, Ty!" he laughed, and TK held his head up just a bit to see Carlos smiling with tears in his eyes and an oh-so-beautiful smile on his lips. "This is incredible, you're incredible! Oh, por Díos, I'm so, so proud of you, love" he said, and TK seemed to be confused, his bright green eyes still wet and vulnerable.

"You are?" he asked, his voice so low that Carlos could barely hear.

"Of course, yeah, I am," he said, holding his boyfriend's hands in his. "Eres tan fuerte, mi amor" he whispered, slowly getting up so he could press his forehead to TK's. "Tengo tanta suerte de tenerte"

"What does it mean?" he asked shyly, and Carlos laughed briefly.

"I'm so lucky to have you," he said. "You're so strong, my love".

There was a glimpse of hope before TK sighed, shrugging.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Not even my father remembers it, and I-"

"And you've been sober for a year, after all that happened to you. After moving out of New York to a completely new town, after getting a new team, a new job. After risking yourself daily, after getting shot" Carlos listed patiently, taking TK's face between his caring hands.

"After recovering from it, and deciding to risk yourself all over again. After having so many bad days, so many reasons to give up, you've been sober. You've been through your worst days wide awake and facing everything strongly and fiercely, just because you didn't want to give up. Of course, TK, it matters. You matter, love. To your team, to your father, even if he's being an idiot. And, to me, TK, you're just everything" his eyes were deep on TK's teary ones, and he could only smile. "It might not be much at all, but just so you know that you're so much for so many people and absolutely everything for someone else."

TK couldn't stop more tears to fall silently, as he stared into those beautiful brown eyes that meant the world to him. He sighed again, a little laugh getting out of his lips as he smiled just a little bit. Carlos smiled widely, happy that he could at least get a smile from the other man.

"It's everything" TK whispered, then, making sure his nose touched Carlos' and his breath reached his mouth. "It's not "not much at all". It's everything. You're everything," he said, leaning forward to press a kiss against the cop's lips.

Despite the salty tears, the kiss was just as sweet as all of their kisses were; it tasted like comfort and caring. TK could feel the tension and heaviness of the morning leaving his body as he slowly stood up just so he could wrap his arms around Carlos' waist. Between kisses, Carlos smiled and hugged his boyfriend back, just to break another kiss and leave a few ones on his boyfriend's pretty face. The paramedic smiled, putting his forehead against Carlos once more and tightening the grip on his body.

"I love you," he said, and the slightly taller man smiled.

"Te quiero, cariño" the latino whispered back. "You can't even imagine how proud I am of you, TK Strand. The strongest man I've ever known" his hands were kind while caressing TK's body slowly. The act was sweet, and TK could easily melt. "And that's not even the best part, to get to know you".

TK chuckled a little, knowing that Carlos's next words would be just as sweet as his tone.

"Yeah?" he said, hiding his face on the crook of his boyfriend's neck. "And what would the best part be?"

"I'm lucky enough to have this strong and incredible man loving me just as much as I love him," he said, and TK could feel his heart racing. He doubted he could ever react differently to Carlos Reyes. "Did I mention he's the love of my life?"

TK could feel tears in his eyes again.

"Yeah?"

Carlos nodded.

"Yeah" he agreed. "He's the strongest man I've ever known, he loves me and, one day, I'll marry him" his voice was barely above a whisper as he felt TK's grip tighten, and he smiles softly and put his lips against his ear. "Can you believe it?"

TK laughed against Carlos' warm skin, nodding happily.

"I can" he answered, moving again so he could face Carlos once more. "Thank you".

Carlos smiles.

"Always. And forever" was his reply. "And, although you're unfairly gorgeous even crying, I'd love to make you forget the reasons you had to cry for, especially today".

TK smiled.

"What do you suggest?"

"First? A nap" he said. "Then? I'll call Paul, Marjan, Mateo, Judd, Grace, and Nancy to come over so we can celebrate the strongest person we all know" his voice was soft and full of love. "while eating tacos and seeing Marjan destroy everyone on every videogame we can find. What do you think?"

"Only if you promise me cuddles too," he said, smiling just as much as Carlos.

"Anything else?"

"Nah," TK said, pressing a quick kiss to Carlos' mouth. "I don't need anything more than you".

While TK snored softly beside him, a few minutes later, Carlos could only think about how the sight of TK crying could break his heart more than anything else, and how the simple knowledge he was okay and even a little bit happy was enough to mend every crack in his soul.

Falling for Morgan had been easy and unnoticed. Falling for Trevor had been funny and lasting. Falling for Declan had been a mistake.

Falling for TK was just right.

#tarlos fic #tarlos #tk x carlos #carlos x tk #carlos reyes #tk strand #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes x tk strand #my fic #911 lone star #paramedic tk

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