#Today I was gonna cruise for them but the season might be over
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Actually I've only seen like 4 or 5 hitchhikers having a 20-25% hitrate (👍🧍♀️🤕 💥🚗) is good very meritous and charitous (like kicking squirrel so they don't climb on other people)
Remember to DM me after hours and I will send someone with a CDL your way
#Today I was gonna cruise for them but the season might be over#I saw a couple 👫 with a friend who looked me like I was trying to drive us off a cliff. Came back at sunset hope they got their ride#Yosemite#and then I took a couple of guys 👬 unconscionably late but they had just climbed El Cap so I drove them about 100 yards#We used to LOVE hitchhiking (it's backpackers supposedly but now it tends to be families Underestimated how spread out the park is) there#Is a sign on a certain road that says do not accept hitchhikers must be on the 120 there's a prison there. Anyways we need to be TOLD not t#We is the entire public BTW everyone who likes Yosemite
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OPE those guns o.o
Yeah that does not look good xd
Hmm who are we telling that we're referring to them as Captain Nash and his wife?
Oh gosh them all 😭😭 they all look so worried :(( 🥺💔❤️
Understandable xD
Uhh is that a bomb o.o
Yeah that's very Bobby
Uhh ohh y'all 😬😬
🥺🥺 BOBBYY
Yeah of course he is xD an icon lol <3
UHH OHHH 😭😭😬
Y'all when I tell you I am NERVOUS
STRESSED AND STRESSIN xDD
This better all end up okay lol
Including their relationship because that's one I'm most scared for xD
Okay, that's the last of my last thoughts, so now it's time for the. . .
REVIEW
AAAHHHHHHH I'm so glad to have my babeys back :D.
Now, given that I'm writing this part on the day of episode 3 and I haven't watched episode 2 yet lol, this will be very short. I might come back and edit later xD.
BUDDIEEEE!!! I'm telling you they're a family. Why are they such a family? I don't know. Anyway poor Chris 😭😭💔❤️. That scene at the end, with the letter, was so good <33. And oh my gosh don't even TALK to me about Buck talking to Christopher and then it planning to Eddie in the hall 😭😭. I was not okay over that and I'm still not <3. Also, a callback to Eddie's panic attacks by having him use a strategy to help that woman was so cool :'DD. He slayed <33. Also the joke after?? They're so in love, your honor <33.
Hen! Don't remember much of what she was up to but she slayed :)). And she's doing great as Captain 🥰🥰! Also her not feeding into Athena's delusions xD (although we of course find out that they aren't but yk it's just a funny moment lol).
Chimney and Maddie! Chim stressing was a mood lol xd. And honestly, making sure you make time for yourselves amongst your jobs, child, and wedding planning is a good idea! But don't try that hard lol. Like y'all figured out, you don't need to :). But yeah, I'm glad they just decided to relax <3. Love them 🥰🥰.
Bobby and Athena! I be slightly concerned for them o.o. I'm sure everything'll be fine in the end relationship wise, but it's stressful xd. And poor Bobby 😭. I promise it's not something you've done Bobby xd. Anyway, SLAY on the investigating though lol :D. And even though I feel for him I'm glad Bobby set aside their issues and had his priorities straight lol xD. Anyway, hopefully all goes well with those pirates 😬.
Overall, I really enjoyed this episode! It's so good to be back :D. I think the cruise ship is a really unique disaster - as are the issues with Bobby and Athena's relationship lol. By that I just mean, it's interesting/nice (even though it hurts) to see some struggles for them (that aren't external) :). There were also really great moments with everybody else, and I'm glad we got to see home ans the ship! Plus, there was a good spread of focus today :). Anyway, I'm a little nervous about the next episode, but I'm sure everything will be alright. It better be lol. Also, the calls were really cool today :O.
So, yeah! I loved this episode, I thought it was great :D. It was lovely seeing my babeys again :). I'm so excited for the next episode! This has been my review of. . .
9-1-1, Season 7, Episode 1: Abandon Ships
It was amazing! I'm interested to see how everything's gonna go down on the boat, and people's reactions. I'll be back here next time with my review of. . .
9-1-1, Season 7, Episode 2: Rock the Boat
See you then!
#9-1-1#911#oasis's 9-1-1 chatter#911 on abc#911 abc#911abc#9-1-1 abc#911 s07e01#so many numbers there lol#now to watch episode two!#and tonight 3 lol#if I have time and energy later I will get to the rookie lol#I meant to last night but didn't have time xd
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Simple Man
Dean Winchester x Reader
Words: 3351
Summary: It was never what he thought he would have. But now Dean doesn’t want to let go.
Notes: I was going to wait and make this a Thanksgiving special, but I thought today would be more fitting. I can’t believe Supernatural ends tonight! This show has been a part of my life for a while now and it will forever stay in my heart. I had a really really good time writing this one. It might be one of my favorites I’ve written for Dean, if not my top pick. I hope you guys enjoy it and look forward to seeing more. Carry on.
Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE
(P.S. thank you to my beta reader @suckmysupernatural. Love you!)
-
Oh, take your time, don’t live to fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
He had slept through an alarm he didn’t remember setting. It wasn’t until he heard the creaking of the door that he stirred, reaching under his pillow for his knife. But it wasn’t there. Dean panicked as footsteps crept towards him. They were nothing more than a small pitter-patter on the wood floor, but he still prepared himself for the attack. The small creature leapt on top of him and he rolled over so he was pinning it beneath him. It giggled. It giggled?
“Daddy, Mom said she needs you in the kitchen.”
Dean leaned over to the night stand and turned on the lamp. A little green eyed girl squirmed out from underneath him and skipped out of the room.
“The hell…” Dean muttered. He opened the dresser and sure enough, his clothes sat in the drawers. He put on a T-shirt and slowly walked out of the room. The smell of bacon and coffee coaxed him to the kitchen. He couldn’t believe what he saw.
You were standing over the stove, trying to save the bacon from burning. Dean was just frozen in the doorway. Finally spotting him, you made your way over to him, which was difficult with the little boy clinging to your leg.
“Thank God you’re up. I need you to finish making breakfast.” You lifted the boy into your arms. “Eric’s got a fever and Ellie is going to wake up any second needing to be fed.” You gently laid a hand on Eric’s forehead. “I’ll call the doctor as soon as I get him to lay down. But you know how impossible that is.”
“But I’m not tired.” Eric whined.
“I know, sweetie, but you don’t want to get sicker, do you?” He pouted his lip and shook his head. “Alright, so I need you to go back to bed.” You looked back at Dean. “Can you just finish the bacon? I’ll be back to make their toast.”
Before Dean could speak, you rushed up the stairs. As if on queue, a baby started to cry from somewhere upstairs. Dean just stood in shock. What the hell was going on?
As if by second nature, he walked around the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel to let the bacon drain off the grease. It felt almost natural. He somehow knew where everything was, even though he had never been here. Or had he? His brain was fuzzy with thoughts he couldn't remember. He saw images flash in his mind. Sam graduating from Stanford. His parents celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. You… in a wedding dress.
“Johanna Charlotte Winchester you better be ready for school or your dad’s going to come and get you!” You yelled, coming back into the kitchen, this time a wailing baby in your arms. It wasn’t until now that Dean noticed you were wearing a sheriff’s uniform. You snatched up a piece of bacon and popped it in your mouth. “Thank you.”
You bounced the baby in your arms, trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it. The green eyed little girl from early came bounding into the room with her backpack over one shoulder. Ellie continued to bawl.
“Can you hold her? She always stops crying when you hold her.” You handed the squirming child to him and he tried not to panic. You noticed your husband’s awkwardness. “Rough morning?” You snickered. “Here, I’ll make you some coffee.”
As the child in his arms slowly stopped her crying, more memories flooded Dean’s head. You telling him you were pregnant for the first time. Going to the emergency room for the birth of his son. Watching Johanna hold her new baby sister. They all felt like dreams, but then how was this all real?
“I’m feeling a little... off this morning.” He admitted, watching you carefully as if he were waiting for horns to sprout from your forehead. Your face fell.
“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re sick too.” You put your hand on his forehead. “You’re picking everyone up from the airport today.”
“Everyone?” Dean’s brows furrowed curiously.
“I would go get them, but I’m at the station until five.” You sighed, moving your hand down to caress his cheek. “Besides, you’ve been dying to see your brother since the Fourth of July.”
“Uncle Sam!” Jo exclaimed excitedly.
“Sammy’s coming?” Dean asked. Finally, something familiar. Your face contorted with confusion.
“Of course he’s coming. Jessica and the kids are too. They always help prepare for tomorrow and since your parents will still be out on their cruise, we’ll need all the help we can get.”
“Tomorrow...” He spotted the calendar on the wall, but you answered first.
“Thanksgiving.” You stated. Your confusion changed to concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to stay home?” Jo raised her hand.
“Can I stay home too?”
“Sweetheart, it’s just one more half-day of school before break and then you’ll get to play with your cousins for the rest of the week.” Seeing you start to get stressed, Dean put a hand on your shoulder.
“You go to work. I’m fine.” He assured you. “I’ll hold down the fort and I’ll pick up Sam at- what time again?”
“3:00.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “I know you worked extra last week so you could have the garage closed for Thanksgiving, but I think the fumes might have gone to your head.” You grabbed the keys off the counter. “Oh, and I’ll be taking Baby to work since you’ll need the van to fit everyone.” His look of displeasure made you laugh. “I know, I know, but you’ll have to suck it up for today unless you think the four-year-old can babysit.”
You kiss Ellie on the forehead before giving Dean a quick, but passionate kiss on the lips. You held out your hand for your daughter to take.
“Alright, partner, let’s go.”
The two of you leave and Dean looks down at the baby in his arms. Was this really happening?
-
Boy don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself
Follow your heart and nothing else
If he was trapped by a djinn, he would have remembered fighting it. This was something else. The more time he spent in the house, the more this world felt real and his hunting life felt like dreams. Maybe… maybe this was real.
He remembered everything now. He had met you in a bar on New Years Eve. You hit it off talking about cars and classic rock. He proposed about two years later outside that same bar during the first snow of the season. You always said the first snow was the best one. You got married and a couple months later found out you were pregnant with Jo. Johanna Charlotte Winchester was born on April 3, 2007. She was seven. Three years later, Eric Samuel was born on November 29th. He was four. Lastly, Ellen Sandra was born six months ago tomorrow on May 27, 2014.
Sammy had a family of his own. He married Jessica right out of law school and the two had two boys; Josh, 8, and Michael, 6. Their families stayed close, even though Sam was in California and Dean in Kansas. They were happy.
If this wasn’t real, how could he remember all that?
3:00 rolled around and Eric’s fever had gone down. He called you to make sure it would be okay to take him along to the airport. You told him that as long as he was feeling okay, it should be fine. The doctor said it sounded like the heat in his room was too high. Dean buckled Eric into his carseat and Ellie in her carrier. While Johanna almost looked like a mini-girl version of him, Eric looked like you. His eyes were yours, along with his hair color and his nose. Ellie looked like a fair mix of both.
Jessica was the first one to greet him since Sam was busy carrying the boys’ bags. He hugged her tight and couldn’t stop beaming.
“It’s so good to see you guys.” He smiled and she gave him a sunny grin in return.
“I know Sam’s been eager to see you and the family for a long time. Of course, I’m only here for the food.” She teased and he pulled her into another hug.
“I can’t believe this.” Dean sighed happily. Sam and Jessica. Him and you. One big happy family.
“Do I get a hug, or are just going to hog my wife?” Sam snarked, setting down the bags as Dean nearly tackled him. Sam laughed, struggling to breathe in his brother’s crushing hug. “I missed you too, Dean.”
“Uncle Sam!” Eric cheered, clinging to Sam’s leg.
“Hey buddy.” Sam smiled, lifting his nephew into his arms. Jessica peaked into the baby carrier Dean had set on the bench.
“Look at how big she’s gotten.” She awed. Ellie was asleep, so she spoke quietly. Jess frowned, finally noticing the two brown haired boys fighting over one of their comics. “Josh, stop pushing your brother.” She scolded.
“He took my comic!” The older of the two retorted. Jessica just gave him a stern look and he surrendered.
“Michael, give it back when you’re done reading.” Sam ruffled his youngest son’s hair. Dean knelt down.
“So are you two tough guys too cool to give your uncle a hug, or what?” He pulled his nephews into a warm embrace. “Are you both taller? You’re taller than the last time I saw you.” Dean pat Josh on the back. “You’re gonna be taller than your dad before you know it.”
“You know, you’d see them more if you flew out to California.” Jessica noted. Dean’s eyes widened. She laughed. “I know, I know, you have a thing about flying.”
“I want to go to California!” Eric exclaimed.
“One of these days, we can go on a roadtrip in Baby to Uncle Sam and Aunt Jessica’s, how does that sound?” Dean promised. Eric nodded, excitedly wriggling in Sam’s arms.
Everyone loaded up into the van, Sam sliding into the passenger seat. Dean had to laugh. This was just so crazy. Here they were, driving in a van packed full of children. Their children. He thought of all of the times Sam sat beside him in the impala, the two weary from a hunt. It felt like a different lifetime. Like a different world. It felt less real.
-
You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love
And don’t forget son, there is someone up above
Four children ran around the backyard, jumping in leaf piles and chasing each other with sticks. Jo seemed to rule the yard, keeping her older cousin at bay with her stubborn persistence. Dean smiled proudly.
“She’s quite the pistol.” Jessica noted with a laugh, jutting her head towards Johanna. She was sitting beside you, bouncing her baby niece in her arms.
“I wonder where she gets that from.” You gave your husband a smirk. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“I love you so much.” He whispered. The tone in his voice made you glance up at him. He was watching you with intensity in his eyes. So much love and yet… there was pain there.
“I love you too.” You laced your fingers with his, your concern evident in your voice. “Dean, are you okay? You’ve been acting a little weird all day.” You spoke quietly so you wouldn’t worry your brother-in-law. Your husband gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
“I’m fine, really. I’m just…” Dean felt an overwhelming wave of emotion and choked back tears. “Really happy.” He lifted your chin up, bringing your lips to his. Everything was perfect, right down to the way your lips fit perfectly against his. He knew, without a doubt, that this was real.
Soon it was time to put the kids to bed. Sam’s boys slept on the pull-out couch in the basement. Eric was exhausted from a day of excitement, as well as his baby sister. Dean was charged with the task of putting a rambunctious Johanna to bed.
“I want to stay up and drink beer like a big kid.” She pouted, making the adults in the room chuckle. Dean crouched down and picked her up.
“Alright, here’s the deal. I promise that when you’re a big kid like me and your mom, then you can stay up and have a drink with us. But until then, you’re gonna be my little deputy right?” He tapped the golden plastic badge that she never took off. Jo grinned from ear to ear and nodded. Humming a Bob Segar tune, he took her upstairs to her room and tucked her into bed.
When he came back down stairs, his brother and the two women were smirking at him.
“What?” You and Jessica exchanged a look and burst out laughing. “Come on, what?”
“That girl has you wrapped around her finger, Dean.” Jessica snickered. You took a sip of your beer.
“Oh, he’s like that with Ellie, too. He dotes on them like you wouldn’t believe. One little pout from Johanna and he melts.” You couldn’t help but beam at your husband. You loved the way he was with the kids.
“I got her in bed, didn’t I?” Dean huffed, taking his seat beside you and resting a hand on your knee. Sam shook his head.
“It’s all in the looks, brother. You may think you’ve one this round, but I saw the look in Jo’s eyes.” Sam gave his brother a sure nod. “She knows where she stands.”
“At least I’ve got Eric,” You sighed teasingly. “He’s a mama's boy, through and through.”
You curled up beside Dean, comfortable in his warmth. He kissed the top of your head.
The hours passed with plenty of laughter and love. Soon, it was getting close to 11:00 and you wanted to get plenty of rest for the busy day tomorrow. Everyone would be helping prepare the massive Thanksgiving meal that the Winchesters made every year. Sam and Jessica said goodnight and headed to the guest room while you and Dean made your way upstairs.
You reached your rooms and Dean’s hands found your waist, his lips trailing up your shoulder to your neck. You leaned back into his embrace, bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers in his golden-brown hair. His hands started to wander and you sighed mournfully.
“Baby, we both have to be up in the morning.” You groaned, breaking away from him. When you turned around, he was pouting, his green eyes big and sad. So that’s where Johanna got it. He was just so impossible to resist, but if you didn’t go to bed now, you’d be exhausted before dinner even started. You draped your arms around his neck. “I’ll tell you what; how about we get a good night’s sleep tonight…” you pulled him close and whispered into his ear, “and I’ll give you something to be really thankful for tomorrow.”
Dean’s eyes widened and his smirk spread into a smile.
“Mrs. Winchester, we have a deal.” He loved the way that sounded coming from his lips. Mrs. Winchester.
You gave him a long and passionate goodnight kiss before changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed.
It must have been around 12:30 when the baby started crying. The baby monitor was on your nightstand, so you were awakened by the sound first. Dean moved to get up, but you stopped him.
“I’ll get her.” You sleepily shuffled out of the bedroom. Reaching the hall, you muttered something that your half-asleep husband only half comprehended. Something about the electricity acting up again.
The crying continued and you didn’t return. Dean yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes and got out of bed. He slowly made his way down the hallway to the nursery. The door was ajar and the lamp had been turned on. You must have gone downstairs to get her a bottle.
Dean picked up his crying daughter, rocking her soothingly in his arms. She wailed and wailed until she heard his voice.
“Alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. Daddy’s got you.” He hushed. After a moment of rocking and soft whispers, Ellie started to settle down. As soon as her cries reduced to the occasional sniff, Dean set her back in her cradle. “That’s it. You’re going to be just fine. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.”
Smiling down at his beautiful baby girl, Dean felt something on the back of his neck. When he touched it, his hand came away red. He froze, and as if his body went into auto pilot, he turned around. At first he couldn’t scream. He just stared.
Your mouth gaped at him, your eyes filled with terror and pain as the blood spread out from your stomach. Ellie started to cry again.
“No!” Dean screamed. That’s when the fire started.
And that’s when he woke up.
-
And be a simple kind of man
Oh, be something you love and understand
Dean sat straight up, sweat soaking through his t-shirt, his scream still on his lips. The cool air of the bunker made him shiver. He couldn’t breathe. He heaved and coughed as if the smoke really filled his lungs. A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump out of the bed and flatten himself against the wall, holding out his fists to fight.
“Dean?” You rose slowly, walking towards him cautiously. “It’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.”
He just stared at you, taking in every feature. You watched his eyes fill with tears and his chin tremble as he tried to speak. Nothing came out, just a strangled sounding cry. Dean fell to his knees and you rushed to hold him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a nightmare.
Dean wrapped his arms around your middle and leaned his head against your stomach as you soothingly ran your fingers through his hair. He didn’t make any sound as he cried, but the tears fell endlessly down his face. He was shaking in your arms.
“Dean, honey, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” You whispered. This wasn’t the first time that he’d woken suddenly from a dream, but it had never been like this.
You told him that you were pregnant today. He seemed happy. Shocked, but happy. But now? Whatever was going through his head was breaking him. You sunk down in front of him so you could hold him fully, letting him cry into your shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” He finally choked out. “I’m sorry that this is all I can give you. I’m sorry that we don’t have a big house full of kids. That Sam has lost any chance at happiness. That we can never have a normal life.” You pushed back.
“Baby, what are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry that this baby is going to grow up haunted and broken… just like me.” His voice cracked. You put a hand on his cheek.
“Dean…” You pressed your forehead against his, feeling your own tears start to fall. “This baby is going to be loved and wanted and cherished, just like you.” You kissed him gently, reminding him of your adoration of this hero of a man.
Dean held you closer, letting your words sink into his heart. He wanted to believe it. He wanted more than anything to believe it. Even in his beautiful dream, you ended up burned and bloody. Even in his dream, he was broken.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He would try like hell to give you a life as close to perfect as he could manage. Maybe that meant hunting together until you went down guns blazing. Maybe that meant settling down, someday, somewhere. He would try.
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can
-
General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone
#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester#jessica moore#jensen ackles#supernatural#happy thanksgiving#supernatural imagines#simple man#angst up the waz
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J/H 4-27: Love, Wisconsin Style
And here we go - Season 4 finale!
I didn't know when I started this project just how I'd end Season 4, and it was tricky to figure out. The goal was, without changing anything about the end of Season 5 (there will be a few Season 5 scripts coming, but none past the halfway point of the season), to make the ending of Season 4 give more weight to Hyde's insecurity and paranoia about Jackie and Kelso there. Feedback on how well that goal was met would be most welcome.
(I should say that I like the end of Season 5 quite a bit as it is. But, this being a project all about finding connective tissue between two different points in the show's run, I went a little further with that here.)
FF.Net AO3
***
SHOW TITLE MUSIC NOTE: “Whatcha Gonna Do” by Pablo Cruise. INT. HUB - DAY A sunny afternoon, but the Hub is almost empty – it’s still school hours. But there are two customers – ERIC and KITTY. Eric leans against the counter as he talks with his mother. “Whatcha Gonna Do” plays on the jukebox. ERIC: So Mr. Hammond said it was fine for me to miss class, ‘cause I’m already getting an “A.” So just as you suspected, Mom, I am better than everybody. KITTY: All I know is that my little boy was very brave at the dentist today. Wasn't he? Yes he was, my widdle snickelfritz. ERIC: Okay, Mom, when a man reaches a certain age, the baby voice no longer comforts him. It urges him to kill. The door opens. In walk DONNA and CASEY. Well, Casey walks; Donna nearly falls over her feet trying to get through the doorway. She’s giggling fit to burst, and a large cup is in her hand. As she stumbles, she knocks over a chair. Casey rights the chair, steadies Donna, leads her toward the nearest table. CASEY: Okay, let's get you some coffee. Nobody pukes in the Trans Am. As they walk, Donna finally notices Eric and Kitty. DONNA: (gasps) Mrs. Forman! Uh-oh, you look mad. What did Eric do? (to Eric) Bad Eric! KITTY: Donna, why aren't you in school? CASEY: No worries, I called her in sick. Told ‘em, “lady troubles.” No questions asked. Donna starts to giggle again and loses her balance. Casey and Eric money to steady her. ERIC: Hey, easy there, wobbles. KITTY: (to Donna) Have you been drinking? DONNA: I hope so. 'Cause if not, this whole place is a-spinning! Hang on boys, it's a twister! She twirls her finger around and pivots on her feet, rocking back and forth between Eric and Casey as they try to get her upright.
MAIN CREDITS BUMPER INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY THE CIRCLE. “Bad Time” by Grand Funk Railroad plays on the record player in the background. Eric is related the events of the last scene. ERIC: So, my mom and I were at the Hub getting ice cream, and we caught Donna with Casey, skipping school. And she was drunk. In the middle of the afternoon. It was like Sue Ellen on Dallas! Pan to Hyde. HYDE: (to Eric) You went to the Hub for ice cream with your mommy? (laughs) Why would you tell me that? Pan to Fez. FEZ: Hyde, the point is he went for ice cream. Without us! (to Eric) You cannot pick up a phone? Pan to Kelso KELSO: Hey, if we’re gonna burn Forman, can we hurry it up? You guys know I’m hiding from Jackie. The longer I stay in any one spot, the more likely she is to catch me, and then I gotta deal with her wanting to get married. TO ME! The record player skips. Kelso jumps at the noise and bolts for the stairs. Pan to Eric, who watches Kelso run upstairs before turning back to the Circle. ERIC: Guys, my mom's over at the Pinciotti's right now telling Bob about Donna being drunk. You can't do that kind of stuff in the middle of the afternoon. It'll mess up with your... your... your thinking thing. Pan to Hyde. HYDE: Yeah, you gotta stay sharp, man. That's why I keep myself pure until 3 o' clock. (checks watch) Two o'clock. That's why I keep myself pure until two o'clock. He lifts up his hand; his watch isn’t even on. HYDE (cont’d): I'm not wearing a watch. CUT TO: EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - DAY A short time later. Hyde, Eric, and Kelso play basketball as best they can with the El Camino in the driveway. Kelso keeps shooting nervous glances down the street in both directions. ERIC: (to Hyde) Hey, you know what? Donna getting busted is actually great for me, because now she's gotta realize what a jackass Casey is. And when she dumps him, I'll be standing right here with open arms and a gentle “I told you so.” He mistakes Hyde’s frown for agreement. ERIC (cont’d): Oh yeah, that could happen. After all, I made that girl a woman. Kelso, dribbling the ball, bounces it into the hubcap of the El Camino. The clang makes him jump back and look around frantically. Eric puts a steadying arm on his shoulder. ERIC (cont’d): Kelso, you know you can’t hide from Jackie forever. Shouldn’t you just talk to her about this? KELSO: Eric, marriage is not a “this.” Marriage is not even an “it.” Marriage is the death of “it,” as in “doin’ it,” and me and my lightning rod in the pants have a lot more doin’ it to do! Hyde takes the basketball from him, starts to dribble, looks down the road toward the Pinciotti’s house. HYDE: (to Kelso) Hey, man. Here comes Jackie. KELSO: RUN! He shoves past Eric, rounds the El Camino, and cuts through the garage. Once he’s gone, Eric and Hyde share a laugh; it was a false alarm. ERIC: So, Jackie wants to marry Kelso. That’s gotta hurt, huh? Say, when you get them back together again, maybe you should offer to perform the ceremony. HYDE: Not this time, man. I mean, marriage in high school? That’s too weird, man. I’m staying out of it. Something over Hyde’s shoulder catches Eric’s eye. He strains to get a better look. ERIC: Here comes Jackie. HYDE: (scoffs) Come on, man. I’m not falling for that. But it’s no false alarm this time: JACKIE marches right up behind Hyde. JACKIE: Where’s Michael? Her shout makes Hyde jump and drop the ball. He turns to look at her; she is one pissed off girl. HYDE: He’s not here. JACKIE: Oh, don’t you give me that! I know that idiot still thinks the upstairs hall closet is a good hiding place! ERIC: (nods) Every game of hide-and-seek, ages 5 to 12. And he managed to get stuck under the bottom shelf every time. JACKIE: Look, he can’t blow me off like this! He proposed, I heard him. (holds up left hand) And he is putting a ring on this finger even if I have to chase him all the way to Minnesota! She tugs on Hyde’s arm. JACKIE (cont’d): Steven, I need you to help me look for Michael. HYDE: Excuse me? Jackie nods to the El Camino. JACKIE: He can’t go far on foot and his van can’t outrun your car. Come on, let’s go! HYDE: Jackie, I’m not driving you all over town looking for Kelso. I don’t even wanna look in the hall closet. JACKIE: (pouts) Fine! She elbows past Hyde, goes around the El Camino. Hyde shakes his head, turns to Eric. Before either of them can speak, they jump back at the revving of the El Camino’s engine. Jackie’s head sticks out from the driver’s side window. JACKIE (cont’d): Move it or lose it! ERIC: (to Hyde) Did she lift the keys to the El Camino off you? Hyde pats down his pockets. His jaw drops. HYDE: I taught her that move! ERIC: You’ve created a monster. HYDE: I know! And the worst part is, that was kinda hot! Eric throws his hands up, shakes his head, and turns to go inside. Jackie honks the horn. Hyde frowns at her, she scowls back, and he slowly makes his way around to the passenger’s side door. CUT TO: INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – DAY The aftermath of Kitty’s news relay. Donna sits on her bed, arms crossed, as BOB and JOANNE loom over her. Bob is in a rage. BOB: (to Donna) What the hell’s going on with you? You’re grounded! No arguments! DONNA: Dad, I’m not grounded. BOB: Okay, well, then whatever you think is best. Joanne rolls her eyes. JOANNE: No! Not whatever she thinks is best. (to Joanne) You are grounded! DONNA: Hey, You're not my mother! You have no say in what I do. She stands, storms out of the room. BOB: (to Joanne) Well, she’s got you there. He shrugs and leaves Joanne shaking her head. CUT TO: INT. HUB - DAY Late in the afternoon. The sunlight coming in through the window is starting to turn to evening gold. “More, More, More” by Andrea True Connection plays on the jukebox. Fez and Kelso sit at a round table near the center of the floor, Kelso’s head jerking this way and that as he scans the crowd. FEZ: Kelso, you seem tense. I think living in a home with so many siblings does not provide you with enough privacy to relieve yourself – if you know what I mean. KELSO: It’s not that kind of tension, Fez. Being a one-woman man is one thing, but – but I can’t get married! I’m 18 years old, and way too hot! FEZ: So just say so. Go on, be a man! KELSO: That’s just it. I’m not a man. Which is why I don’t wanna get married! But... well, a lot of people don’t know this about us, but Jackie’s pretty much in charge. Fez raises his eyebrows; Kelso doesn’t notice. KELSO (cont’d): If she says she wants to get married, then it might happen! The only way it won’t happen is if I’m not around when she does. Something out the window catches Fez’s eye; he leans for a better look. FEZ: Here comes Jackie, driving the El Camino. KELSO: RUN! He throws himself out of his chair, sending it flying back to the door. He scrambles on all fours to reach the bathroom door, and we cut to: INT. HUB BATHROOM – DAY Kelso hurries inside, throws open the bathroom window, backs up just enough to get a running start, and launches himself cleanly through the window. KELSO (v.o.): (laughing) Man, that was awesome! CUT TO: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - NIGHT An emergency confab. As Kitty ices a cake at the stovetop, Bob talks with RED and Eric by the island. BOB: And then I told Donna she was grounded, and she said no! KITTY: (looks up) She said no? ERIC: Can you do that? RED: No. BOB: I need your help, Red. I gotta get Donna away from that guy! ERIC: Oh, Dad, you know what's good? Threaten her with the old foot in the ass! KITTY: You know, that Casey. How could such a bad influence live in such a handsome package? Bad people should have a big scar and an eye patch so you could recognize them! BOB: The problem is, you know, there's a point where your kids realize you can’t do nothing to control them. ERIC: There is? RED: (to Eric) No! Now stop listening. (to Bob) Bob, I don't wanna get involved. I've got enough problems with the fourteen kids who think they live here now. CUT TO: EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - NIGHT Immediately following the above. The El Camino pulls into the driveway. There is a dent and a long, red streak across the passenger side. Hyde exits out the driver’s side door, and Fez and Jackie exit out the passenger’s side. Jackie immediately crosses to Hyde. JACKIE: Steven, you get back here! We aren’t done yet! HYDE: Yes, we are. When you ruin the paint job and take out a fire hydrant, that’s the end of El Camino privileges for you, young lady! Something down the driveway catches Fez’s eye. FEZ: Someone’s coming. They all turn to look. It’s Donna and Casey, out for a walk-and-talk. CASEY: So the guy’s trying to tell me that his Z28 is the same car as my Trans Am except for the decals. DONNA: How can people be so ignorant? The patio door slides open. Bob marches out, followed by Eric, Kitty, and Red. BOB: I see you Donna! I see you! DONNA: Dad! BOB: Don't you “dad” me. You're not going anywhere, not with this guy. You're grounded again! Hyde, Jackie, and Fez huddle together. Fez brings out a box of chocolate-covered raisins. FEZ: (to Jackie & Hyde) Candy? JACKIE: Please. She helps herself to a piece. DONNA: Dad, I'm gonna do whatever I want with whoever I want whenever I wanna do it! BOB: We have to have a talk right now, Donna! CASEY: Mr. Pinciotti, sir, let me just say you're making a lot of sense here, and I think that when I bring Donna home tonight, you two ought to sit down and really hammer this thing out. Everyone’s on bated breath as they look to Bob. BOB: (beat) Okay, that sounds fair. Everyone but Donna groans together. ERIC: What? You're just gonna let her go off with him? BOB: What else can I do? RED: Oh, good God, that's it! Everybody in the living room. (no one moves) NOW! That does it. Everyone moves to enter the house. Red holds up a hand to block Jackie, Fez, and Hyde. RED: Not you. He enters the house. Bob, having been behind Fez, stays out with the kids. He takes a raisin that Fez offers. Red sticks his head out the patio door. RED: Bob, get in here! He heads back inside, Bob in tow. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – NIGHT Tough love time. Eric stands by the front door with Bob. Donna and Casey are on the couch, the reluctant center of attention. Red stands behind his chair, leaning on it as he yells. RED: Donna, what has gotten into you? Skipping school, showing no respect for your father - BOB: That's right! RED: Shut up, Bob. Kitty hurries in from the kitchen with a big snack bowl. KITTY: Okay, here's snacks! She sets the bowl down on the coffee table. KITTY (cont’d): So, anybody need a drink? CASEY: I'll take a rum and coke for the road. ERIC: Hey, hey, buddy? A little tip? I think booze is what got you in trouble in the first place! RED: (to Casey) How could you take this girl out drinking in the middle of the day! CASEY: You know how it is. All the older girls were at work. He chuckles at his own joke and jostles Donna with his shoulder. She doesn’t look amused. ERIC: Can I say - this guy is not boyfriend material. BOB: I agree. You're not going out with him anymore. You two are done! DONNA/CASEY: No!/Alright. They look to each other. DONNA: What? CASEY: You gotta admit, this has been a real hassle. I mean, it was fun, and you're a great girl, but let's just call it a day. ERIC: Wait... you're breaking up with her? DONNA: Casey, I thought you said you... She looks around the room. She leans in close to Casey and drops her voice. DONNA (cont’d): You know... you said you loved me. CASEY: I have this thing where I say stuff I don't really mean. DONNA: Casey... CASEY: Look, Donna, I see what you're getting at, and I'm not that type of guy. He pats her knee. CASEY (cont’d): Mrs. Forman, let's say we rain-check that rum and coke. He stands, pats Eric on the shoulder, and walks out the front door. Eric looks to Donna. ERIC: Donna, I'm... I’m really sorry. DONNA: You're not sorry. You got exactly what you wanted. She stands, moves to the kitchen door. She throws it open, knocking into an eavesdropping Hyde, Jackie, and Fez. They fall back toward the fridge as Donna runs from the house. FADE TO BLACK COMMERCIAL BUMPER INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT Eric is alone, brooding on the couch. He stands when he hears the door open. Kitty enters, with Donna. KITTY: Eric, there's someone here to see you. ERIC: (to Donna) Hi. DONNA: Hi. KITTY: Okay, can I get anyone a snack? ERIC: Mom. KITTY: Right, right. Have to stop doing that. (laughs) She makes a quick exit. Eric and Donna look to each other. ERIC: (beat) So, um... how are you? Donna crosses to him. DONNA: Humiliated. I'm such an idiot. I got dumped in front of the whole world. I don't... I don't even know what I said to your mom at the Hub and I hate that she saw me like that. What is wrong with me? ERIC: Hey, nothing. Look, your mom left. Come on – you’re allowed to freak out. DONNA: Everybody warned me about Casey and I fell for him anyway. He's such a jackass! ERIC: I really, really wanted you to figure that out. Just not like this. DONNA: Eric, I'm just... (sniffs) I'm so sorry. ERIC: Hey. He pulls her into an embrace. Donna nestles her head into the crook of his neck as she breaks into tears. DONNA: I was so stupid! As they pull apart, Donna brings Eric into a deep kiss. He just starts to give in when she pulls back and gives him a desperate look. DONNA: Eric, we should be together. ERIC: Wait, what? DONNA: Let's just, like, forget all this other stuff happened. She embraces him again. ERIC: Wait...wait. Eric pulls away. ERIC (cont’d): Donna... I mean, if you come running back to me now, I... Donna, I can't be your second choice. DONNA: But you're not! Eric... He bows his head. Even as her tears come again, he won’t look up. Donna turns, runs to the door. As she opens it, Kitty spills into the basement. She quickly stands and feigns confusion. KITTY: Oh! Where am I? She zips back out the door, and Donna follows. BUMPER EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - NIGHT Hyde and Fez inspect the damage to the El Camino. Fez’s candy box is balanced on the rim of the flatbed. Jackie paces up and down the driveway, her eyes fixed on the road. Behind his shades, Hyde rolls his eyes. HYDE: Jackie, just go home. JACKIE: No! I know Michael has to be here some time. This is the only place he can get popsicles without one of his brothers trying to push the stick up his nose. FEZ: (nodding) It’s true. And believe me, that is unpleasant. Hyde sighs, crosses to Jackie. HYDE: Jackie, this is nuts. Shotgun weddings are for rednecks who knock up trailer trash and then get caught by her dad. Look, man, whatever you thought you heard, Kelso doesn’t want to get married. He’s not around because he doesn’t want to see you. JACKIE: Yes, he does, Steven! He told me that - HYDE: That he wanted to get married? Kelso? Michael “I didn’t know that firecracker would blow up the toilet” Kelso? Jackie’s eyes begin to water. She searches for words and can’t find any. Finally, she shakes her head. JACKIE: No. No, he didn’t. I got carried away, and I tried to control him, like I always do. (begins crying) But he wouldn’t even talk to me about it? She rushes to Hyde and throws her arms around his neck. Hyde throws his own hands up in the air. HYDE: Every time. FEZ: (to Jackie) Hey, he got the last two break-ups! Give someone else a chance! Hyde gives Fez a warning look. FEZ (cont’d): I know, I know. “Go home, Fez.” He begins slinking away, makes it halfway down the drive, then doubles back for his box of candy. He shoots Hyde one last dirty look before taking off. Hyde holds Jackie loosely by the arms and gently pushes her back. HYDE: Jackie... come on, man. JACKIE: (through tears) What kind of relationship is this when he tells me he wants to be together forever, then runs away as soon as I want a commitment? And after everything I put up with because he couldn’t get over that one kiss, when I never made him go through anything like that when he cheated on me. Well, enough is enough. I’m over him for good. She wipes furiously at her tears. Hyde shifts on his feet; he’s skeptical. HYDE: What did you want that kind of commitment for, anyway? You’re in high school. JACKIE: You wouldn’t understand. Steven, you’ve only ever had meaningless flings. I’m not like that, okay? I want love. True love. And Michael and I have been together so long, that I just thought - HYDE: Jackie, you’ve never been with anyone else. Even after the last time you two broke up, you didn’t see anybody, not really. Now, come on, man. You’re young and free now. Play the field. I told you before, you can find someone better than Kelso. JACKIE: But Steven, I’ve never felt anything for anybody else. HYDE: Anybody? Jackie looks up from wiping her eyes. She sees Hyde standing right in front of her. We cut to: JACKIE’S POV. She looks at Hyde’s chest, showing through the open buttons of his shirt... At his mouth as he smacks his lips... At his shades, as one eyebrow goes up... END POV. Jackie grabs Hyde’s head in her hands and pulls him down into a rough, deep kiss. Hyde gives in, snakes his fingers through her hair as Jackie runs her hands up and down his body. They break apart. Hyde coughs, adjusts his shades. HYDE: Huh. (beat) Jackie, you’re on the rebound, and this didn’t take the last time we were here. If you’re just looking to get back at Kelso - Jackie throws down the door to the flatbed of the El Camino and points. JACKIE: Get in. Hyde looks from the flatbed to Jackie. She holds up his keys in her free hand. HYDE: Hey, you keep stealing my keys, it’s gonna stop being a turn-on. Jackie gives him a look. HYDE (cont’d): (laughs) No it’s not. Jackie throws herself at him. Her weight sends them crashing back into the flatbed. CUT TO: INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - NIGHT Eric is in a chair from the kitchen table, turned to face the living room door. Red and Kitty stand over him, both furious. RED: Let me get this straight: Donna wanted to get back together and you said no? ERIC: I said no. RED: You said no! KITTY: (beat) Dumbass! ERIC: Look, I have my reasons, okay? KITTY: What could they be? What could they possibly be? ERIC: Casey dumps her and she comes to me? Okay, I'm not a rebound! RED: So you're too proud to take her back? And what do you have to be so proud of? You're not an athlete. The only smart thing about you is your mouth. And look at you! KITTY: Red, Red, he looks fine! He's just so darn stupid! I'm very upset. ERIC: Well, stop, okay? Because I already feel bad enough as it is. KITTY: Well you should! ERIC: Well, I do! I love her. He stands, starts to pace. ERIC: God, why do I always have to screw these things up, you know? Why does everything always have to be my way? That's why we broke up in the first place. KITTY: Well, we've all known that for a year! ERIC: Okay. Okay, I have to tell Donna how I feel. He doesn’t move at once. RED: Then go! Eric nods, heads out the patio door. Kitty leans on Red, and he puts an arm around her. KITTY: Oh, Red! RED: I know. We're never gonna get him out of the house. CUT TO: INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT The lights are off, but the door is open. Eric runs inside. ERIC: Donna? No one answers. Eric steps inside, looks around. Bob and Joanne enter. Eric crosses to them. ERIC (cont’d): Oh, hello, Mr. Pinciotti, Mrs... I'm sorry, Joanne, I don't know your last name. I have something to tell you guys. I love Donna. JOANNE: Well, she isn't here. We don't know where she is. (beat) And it's Stupack. ERIC: Well, if it's okay, I'll just wait. He sits down on the bed. Bob crosses to him, pats his shoulder. BOB: Sure. I always liked you. ERIC: Oh, thank you, sir. BOB: But do me a favor. Don't play with her undergarments. He and Joanne exit as Eric settles in. CUT TO: EXT. HUB PARKING LOT - NIGHT Past closing hours. Kelso’s Samba slowly pulls into the lot. Kelso sticks his head out, looking left and right. He brings the van into park, gets out, and stretches. Donna walks by, a knapsack slung over her shoulder. Kelso crosses to her. KELSO: Hey. Where are you going? DONNA: Bus station. I'm going to my mom's in California. KELSO: Oh, my God. You're running away. DONNA: I don't know what else to do. KELSO: No, I know how you feel. I feel trapped in this town. There isn’t any place I can go where I’m not gonna eventually run into Jackie. And when that happens – He hums a few bars of the wedding march, then mimes hanging himself. KELSO (cont’d): Hey... hey, you know what? I'll drive you. We'll both go to California! He slaps Donna on the shoulder and goes back to the van. DONNA: Kelso, are you up for this? KELSO: Hey, if the Beverly Hillbillies can do it, so can I. Donna chuckles and nods. DONNA: Great, let's go. They both climb into the van. Kelso starts ‘er up, and they take off. CUT TO: INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT Eric lies back on the bed. He plays with the pillows, twiddles his thumbs, and checks his watch. FADE TO BLACK CREDITS EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY MUSIC NOTE: Theme from “The Beverley Hillbillies.” On the road for California. Donna sleeps while Kelso drives. Kelso glances over, sees that Donna is asleep. He reaches a hand back for her chest. She wakes up just in time to smack him away. DONNA: Kelso! I'm not gonna tell you again! KELSO: I was just reaching for my soda. Damn! DONNA: I should have taken the bus. END.
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Derick E. Hingle-USA TODAY Sports
Down go the champs
SEC football is back in all it’s glory. For some schools, football being back was awesome as they watched their teams start the 2020 campaign with a W. For some, it was fun to see their favorite programs play but disappointing to start the year off with an L. Then there were LSU fans....
The Bayou Bengals became the first defending champs to lose their season opener since 1998 when Notre Dame fell to Michigan. Turns out replacing a Heisman winner, both coordinators, most of the offensive line, top three wide receivers, top running back and the majority of defensive starters is kind of a big deal.
Also, it turns out Mike Leach and his Mississippi State Bulldogs are ready for SEC defenses.
With one data point now available there were some shakeups to this week’s rankings. Let’s take a look. Also a quick note, I decided to drop FEI because it doesn’t appear those rankings are being updated on a weekly basis.
#1.) Alabama 1-0 (—)
SP+: 3 | FPI: 2
Last Game: 38-19 W @ Missouri
I admit that I watched exactly 2 snaps of this game so I don’t have much to offer in the form of analysis. It appears the Crimson Tide took care of business and then cruised to the finish line. Najee Harris scored three touchdowns, Mac Jones was efficient and Jaylen Waddle is still impossible to cover. Not sure there’s a ton to takeaway from this game for either team except that the Tide aren’t going to be surprisingly bad. We will learn more this weekend when the Aggies come to town.
Next Game: vs Texas A&M
#2.) Georgia 1-0 (—)
SP+: 4 | FPI: 6
Last Game: 37-10 W @ Arkansas
Per 247 Composite, there are sixteen former 5-star recruits on Georgia’s 2020 football roster. That’s the most of any program. More than Alabama, Ohio State and Clemson. It’s more than Auburn, Florida, Texas A&M and Tennessee combined. They opened the season with a road trip to Fayetteville to take on a Hog program stuck in the mud. A program with only four more 4-star players than UGA 5-stars.
And yet...
Hilariously, Arkansas took a 7-5 lead into halftime. Redshirt D’Wan Mathis did not look ready for collegiate football and it took the insertion of walk-on Stetson Bennett for the Dawgs to finally take care of business. The offensive line did not look it’s former dominant self either. The biggest question facing UGA heading into 2020 was whether or not this offense could take the next step. So far, it ain’t looking good....
But it might not matter. After allowing a 7 play 91 yard touchdown drive, UGA’s defense allowed only a field goal while picking off Franks three times including taking one back for six points. That’s why I still have them in the #2 spot over the Gators. This offense might not be great again but this defense is good enough to prevent a total meltdown. This weekend will tell us a lot about what this Dawg team is capable of accomplishing this fall.
Next Game: vs Auburn
#3.) Florida 1-0 (—)
SP+: 8 | FPI: 9
Last Game: 51-35 W @ Ole Miss
The University of Florida Fighting Kyles lit up the scoreboard in Oxford over the weekend. Kyle Trask threw for 416 yds and SIX touchdowns Saturday. WR/TE/Freak Kyle Pitts caught 8 of those passes for 170 yards and 4 touchdowns. Needless to say, Ole Miss fans won’t be naming any kids Kyle in the near future.
But while the offense was spectacular, that Gator defense had some serious struggles. I expected Ole Miss to put some points on the board but I didn’t see 600+ yards coming. The main concern I had about this UF team heading into 2020 was whether or not this defense was good enough to slow folks down. As of now, that question remains unanswered. It will be interesting to see how they look against an ok South Carolina team this weekend.
Next Game: vs South Carolina
#4.) Auburn 1-0 (+1)
SP+: 6 | FPI: 7
Last Game 29-13 W vs Kentucky
Auburn had the 2nd best win of the weekend taking down a veteran, physical Kentucky squad. The Wildcats controlled the first half for the most part but the Tigers dominated the 2nd half and were able to come away with a somewhat comfortable win.
Bo Nix looked good in his 2020 debut and Seth Williams is gonna be a problem for a lot of defenses this fall. Defensively, Auburn got knocked around early but settled down in the 2nd half. The big question is still the offensive line which performed admirably in their season debut but must improve if the Tigers are going to end that awful drought in Athens on Saturday.
Next Game: @ Georgia
#5.) Mississippi State 1-0 (+7)
SP+: 38 | FPI: 35
Last Game: 44-34 W @ LSU
Ok so I got a lot of apologizing to do to State fans. I thought this State team would be pretty bad this year. Sure Leach added an outstanding grad transfer at QB in K.J. Costello over the off-season but cmon... This Mississippi State team isn’t exactly overflowing with talent especially at the skill position (sans Kylin Hill). And that defense lost some major contributors and are switching to a brand new scheme. They will be luck to win 3 games I thought...
Welp....
Turns out this team is ready to create mayhem in the SEC. Costello carved up that vaunted DBU secondary and if he hadn’t kept turning the ball over this game might have been a legit blowout. Costello set the single game SEC passing record throwing for 623 yards and 5 touchdowns. Three State players crossed the century mark including star tailback Kylin Hill.
I don’t know how this season goes for Mississippi State but it’s definitely going to go much better than I expected. Gotta give an immense amount of credit to Leach and his coaching staff. They came out ready to go and made a massive statement this past weekend.
Next Game: vs Arkansas
#6.) Tennessee 1-0 (+1)
SP+: 24 | FPI: 30
Last Game: 31-27 W @ South Carolina
I picked Tennessee to lose this game but the Vols were able to make less mistakes than the Cocks and a few more big plays to escape with the W. It wasn’t necessarily an impressive performance but it was effective. The Dawgs look vulnerable and Tennessee has more talent than Kentucky. Can Jeremy Pruitt capitalize and make that final game of the year against UF the de facto SEC East championship?
Next Game: vs Missouri
#7.) Texas A&M 1-0 (-1)
SP+: 19 | FPI: 19
Last Game: 17-12 W vs Vanderbilt
Technically, Texas A&M won Saturday. But if anyone ventured over to the SEC Alternate channel to watch this cluster of a game, you probably didn’t come away super impressed with the supposed top challenger to the Tide in the West.
Turns out Kellen Mond is still Kellen Mond. That offensive line is still pretty bad and losing all that WR production is not easily replaced. I don’t think things are going to go well in Tuscaloosa this weekend....
Next Game: @ Alabama
#8.) Kentucky 0-1 (—)
SP+: 43 | FPI: 27
Last Game: 13-29 L @ Auburn
For one half of football, it looked like the Wildcats had a shot at living up to the preseason hype. Maybe this is the year they could go on the road into an SEC West venue against a ranked opponent and get the W. Then the 2nd half kicked off...
A disastrous 4th quarter resulted in a frustrating L for Big Blue Nation and they don’t get to lick their wounds. An explosive Rebel attack is set to visit Lexington and if Terry Wilson doesn’t get those turnovers cleaned up they could very well be 0-2 this time next week. I still think though this is top 3 team in the SEC East. We will see if they can get right against the Lane Train.
Next Game: vs Ole Miss
#9.) LSU 0-1 (-5)
SP+: 25 | FPI: 13
Last Game: 34-44 L vs Mississippi State
Turns out you can’t just easily replace literally your whole organization following a national championship. Weird huh?
It didn’t take long for LSU fans to learn that the Myles Brennan and Bo Pelini hype ain’t for real. The Tigers new QB struggled much of the day and wasn’t helped by drops and a porous offensive line. Pelini refused to switch out of his man defense and allowed Mike Leach to put on a clinic on how to beat it over and over again. There are some serious problems on this LSU team and I don’t know if they can all get fixed in the coming weeks.
Fortunately, a trip to play a not very good Vanderbilt team should get Ed O back to .500. However, if LSU wants any shot at a repeat they gotta find a way to adjust to this new world.
Next Game: @ Vanderbilt
#10.) Ole Miss 0-1 (-1)
SP+: 44 | FPI: 37
Last Game: 35-51 L vs Florida
I honestly didn’t wanna move Ole Miss down a spot it just kinda happened. The Rebels showed they are exactly who I thought they were over the weekend. An explosive but inconsistent offense paired with a very bad defense. The Rebels are going to give DCs around the SEC headaches but they are going to need some stops on the other side of the ball if they wanna string together any Ws. Big opportunity to make a statement this weekend against a frustrated Kentucky team.
Next Game: @ Kentucky
#11.) South Carolina 0-1 (—)
SP+: 34 | FPI: 40
Last Game: 27-31 L vs Tennessee
South Carolina has mastered losing to Tennessee in frustrating fashion. They fought to the bitter end but a punt off the backside of a blocker ended any opportunity of a dramatic finish. Offensively, South Carolina looked ok. It’s clear outside of Shi Smith this team is lacking in terms of play makers. This Saturday is a must win for Coach Boom.
Next Game: @ Missouri
#12.) Missouri 0-1 (-2)
SP+: 48 | FPI: 42
Last Game: 19-38 L vs Alabama
As I said above, I didn’t really watch this game so I got nothing really to say about this Mizzou squad other than they covered and that’s all that really mattered.
Next Game: @ Tennessee
#13.) Vanderbilt 0-1 (+1)
SP+: 110 | FPI: 68
Last Game: 12-17 L @ Texas A&M
They did their darndest to pull the stunner but then they are also Vanderbilt so of course it didn’t happen. I was impressed overall with the Dores performance though and rewarded them with what will likely be their highest ranking of the season. No way LSU loses this game too right?
Next Game: vs LSU
#14.) Arkansas 0-1 (-1)
SP+: 75 | FPI: 59
Last Game: 10-37 L vs Georgia
For one half of football, Arkansas stood toe to toe with one of the giants of the SEC. Hog fans rejoiced that maybe just maybe Sam Pittman was going to do the impossible. Then reality hit like a train in the 2nd half...
Outside of a few skill players on offense and the best named linebacker in the country in Bumper Pool, this program is devoid of SEC caliber talent. Feleipe Franks is still not a great quarterback. With Mississippi State not being the dumpser fire as hoped, I am not sure there’s a W on this schedule for the Hogs....
Next Game: @ Mississippi State
War Eagle!
from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2020/9/28/21458459/sec-power-rankings-week-2
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Do You Want To Build A Snow-Mick?
Belated Secret Santa for @dragongoddess13. I’m so damn sorry that I’m late for this, but I hope you enjoy it!
AO3
In the cold night hours, two motorcycles sped down the streets of Washington D.C. Few cars were out, likely returning from somewhere like they had. However, none of the cars or walkers would have thought the two bikers were well-known heroes. Hell, they didn’t even know that they hadn’t just saved the world, but time as well on several occasions. All they saw were two bikers cruising along and passing each other intermittently.
The duo made its way out of the city into the suburbs, noticing that the roads had been pre-treated. In the week that they had been in town, the forecast had called for snow on two different days. None had appeared on said days. That worked out in their favor with the bikes. Not that either of them would have minded a little bit of snow to make things feel more in season.
When they pulled to a stop on the concrete pad in front of one of the houses, Sara Lance took her helmet off and grinned at her companion. “Told you we’d get home quick.”
“There’s barely any traffic tonight,” Leonard Snart replied once his own helmet was removed. “If there was, my way would have been faster.”
“One of these days, we’ll have to see whose route home is better.”
“I know there’s at least a thirty second advantage.”
“Pfft, thirty seconds? Come on, Len.”
Leonard pulled out the keys from his pocket as they walked up to the door. “Still faster. But I’m not shying away from that challenge. We’ll just have to wait until we’re out of winter.”
Sara tilted her head. “It’s cold, but we haven’t had any snow yet since we landed for the holidays. I’m sure it’ll be fine within the next week.”
“Maybe so, but Raymond told me that there’s supposed to a snowstorm coming in a few hours. Showed me his weather apps and everything.”
“Was that where you were when Mick and Gary were cleaning me out with the dreidel?”
The door finally unlocked and both stepped inside, happy to shed their coats and shut the door. Leonard flicked on a light to reveal his smile. “I thought you were kidding about losing in dreidel?”
Sara dumped her helmet on the shelf. “No. That’s why I don’t have any chocolate to bring home. But Mick said you’d lose if you were there too.”
“Did he now?” Leonard raised an eyebrow. “If Lisa was there, she’d wipe the floor with him. I was the one who taught her to play, but she got better than I ever was. It’s been a long time since I was with other people for Hanukkah though. It was nice.”
“Good,” Sara reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m gonna head to bed. You coming?”
“Yeah, give me a moment.”
She went up the stairs as Leonard pulled out his phone. He might not have had Ray’s fancy weather apps, but the website he tended to look at for weather was also reporting snow for the early morning hours and most of tomorrow. Not to mention that the temperature would be taking a dive as well. He might have been Captain Cold, but he was also a regular human who had been a little more prone to cold since his resurrection a few years ago.
On his way up the stairs, he made sure to stop by the closet and pull out an extra blanket before coming to bed.
“You sure we’ll need that?” Sara asked.
He shrugged. “We can get rid of it if it’s too hot.”
“Fair enough. Night, Len.”
“Night, Sara.”
~~~
Sara knew that when she’d fallen asleep, she hadn’t been too close to Leonard. When she awoke, she was pressed up right beside him. This wasn’t something any of them minded. They’d been together for about a year now. At least he didn’t snore.
What she did notice when she woke up was that it was cold. Sure, they kept the thermostat down at night, but it was never this chilly. As her eyes slowly opened, the captain of the Waverider exhaled and a cloud of white formed in front of her briefly. Awareness of how cold it was in the bedroom seeped into her body more and more. Sara pulled the sheets and blankets closer to herself to warm up more. At least Leonard had gotten an extra blanket on them last night.
Rolling away from Leonard, Sara could see the window and the view of the outside weather. Her eyebrows lifted at the sight of it. Careful not to wake up Leonard, she crawled out of bed to get a better look. She gave a small gasp at the chill of the floor when she tiptoed to the edge of the room. Outside, snow was piling up in the yard and still falling fast.
“Wow,” she murmured.
“Guess Raymond was right about the snow.”
Sara turned around to see Leonard watching her from the bed. “Did you just wake up or have you been pretending to be asleep?”
“I only woke up a few minutes ago, but you’re right,” Leonard agreed while Sara crawled back under the covers. “I don’t know how long it’s been coming down for, but it doesn’t show any signs of letting up. Makes me glad we went shopping yesterday.”
“Well, we had to since Ray had us all bring over something for Hanukkah,” Sara scooted closer to him. “Saves us a trip now at least. We can just have a snow day here instead.”
“Another brilliant idea from the captain. I like it.”
Sara grinned. “I’m not one to mess with when it comes to snow.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You do remember I go by Captain Cold, right?”
The grin turned more devilish. “Then this will get fun.”
~~~
Within a few hours, the couple finally made their way out into the winter wonderland. Snow was still tumbling down from the sky. According to the forecast, this was supposed to be the whole day for Washington. Just in time for Christmas and Sara’s birthday.
“The last time it snowed this much in Central City, I think Lisa was still in middle school,” Leonard smiled as he thought back to that day.
“How’d that go?” Sara asked.
Leonard laughed as he remembered it. “She wanted to build the biggest snowman ever. Mick came over and helped us out. We got it to about seven feet before a snowball fight broke out with some neighborhood kids.”
“Did you win?”
“Pretty sure we did,” he shrugged. “You ever have snow days up in Star City?”
“They came around from time to time,” Sara told him. “Laurel and I always had fun because we could play all day instead of going to school. Sometimes we spent them at the station, other times it was just us at home. We usually walked over to this hill and went sledding with other kids from the neighborhood before the hill got bulldozed for new houses. But we always tried to make this ramp out of snow and see if we could catch some air.”
Leonard could easily see her doing that as a child. “We never went sledding a lot. It didn’t snow a lot, so there was no need to get a sled. When we did, I just repurposed an old trash can lid.”
“Clever,” Sara leaned down and gathered a handful of snow. Thankfully, it was wet and stuck together. There was nothing worse for a snow day than dry snow. “So... a snowman that was seven feet tall?”
“More or less by my estimate.”
“Want to try and beat that record today?”
~~~
The snow kept on falling as the time travelers worked together to roll massive blocks of snow. As they rolled the snow up from the grass, it began to accumulate on the ground once again. It took a little longer than either of them thought. Neither of them had made a snowman for a while, so they forgot how heavy all that snow could be. In the end though, they did succeed in making the planned upon snowman.
“Looks pretty good to me,” Leonard grinned as they lifted the head up to sit on the rest of the body. “And definitely bigger than seven feet.”
Sara was frowning though. “It’s still missing something.”
She bolted towards the house and up the steps. Leonard tilted his head and waited for her return. Within a minute, the door swung open and she came barreling down the steps with an armful of items. Once Leonard saw the carrot, he knew exactly what she was thinking. Even if they weren’t the most traditional of people, they needed a traditional snowman today.
“It needs to be a proper snowman,” Sara grinned as she showed him what she’d brought outside. “I grabbed the stuff that we weren’t using. Good thing we made stew the other day and put carrots in it.”
“Ah, but you’re missing some things too,” Leonard countered. “We ought to give him at least one arm. Maybe a broom for Frosty too.”
“Okay, so I don’t have everything. Want to get those things while I start decorating?”
They worked a little longer on their snowman to make it look presentable. Leonard managed to find a pair of sturdy twigs sticking from the snow and unearthed them from the snow. Both were stuck into the snowman before he went to the garage. A rake ended up taking the place of a broom leaning up against the snowman. Some small stones pulled from the snow near the front of the house worked as buttons running down the snowman’s front.
In the meantime, Sara had climbed up on the bottom of the snowman to decorate his face. When Leonard looked up at her work, he had to laugh a little bit. The top of the snowman’s head was smoothed over and there were thick raisin eyebrows above two round carrot eyes (of course she’d had a knife up there). It even seemed like the snowman was scowling a little.
“Kinda reminds me of Mick when he’s grumpy,” he told her.
Sara simply raised her eyebrows, but a smile was twitching at her lips.
“Sara, you didn’t.”
“Inspiration struck,” explained Sara. “How could I ignore the call?”
He snorted. The two of them were used to being so used to being serious with the rest of the Legends. Whenever they had time off, there was no need for that. They could let loose a little more like they had in the old days when they were just trying to stop Vandal Savage.
“We’ll have to send him a picture later,” Leonard smirked. “I didn’t bring my phone out here and the snow’s starting to pick up again.”
“Sounds good to me. A day like this calls for something warm.”
“I can always do cocoa.”
“We don’t have any whipped cream.”
Leonard shook his head. “That’s not funny.”
Now Sara laughed. “Just a little. I know you and your mini marshmallows. Now let’s go leave our snow-Mick out here and get warm.”
“Snow-Mick?”
Sara winked as they walked back inside and shut the door, embracing the warmth of the house. “I thought you’d like the pun.”
“I never said I didn’t,” he shook the snow off his cap. “Mick’s ego definitely will. Isn’t this the second monument that bears a resemblance to him?”
His partner sighed. “I’d forgotten about that. Maybe we should take a trip to see it soon? After all, we do have time to spare.”
“That we do,” Leonard agreed. “But right now, I’m happy spending that time with just you and not have to worry about any of the other barging in.”
“Or time alarms going off,” Sara added, kicking her boots off and standing up. “Aren’t I lucky to have you all to myself?”
Leonard shrugged off his coat. “Actually, I consider myself to be the lucky one.”
“How about this?” Sara kissed him. “We’re both lucky.”
Leonard smiled down at her. “Now that I can agree with.”
They stayed that way for a moment before Leonard cleared his throat. “So, hot cocoa?’
“Hot cocoa,” Sara agreed. “With mini marshmallows.”
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Who Knows What the Next Half Hour, Forty-Five Minutes Hold- A Sharky x Deputy fic
Guess who finally finished that meet cute ideaaaaaa. So this got long enough that I’m actually gonna put it on AO3 as well because I’m an attention hungry bitch. This is set pre-game events (like, a couple months before), and is a gender neutral Deputy because, in the words of a great man, “I don’t wanna go assumin nobody gender”
Fic Summary: You don’t expect your luck to turn around via getting caught trying to light a squad car on fire. But then, weirder things have happened for Sharky.
Word Count: 3721
They hadn’t invented a curse word good enough for the kind of day Charlemagne “Sharky” Boshaw the IV was having. Not that this was stopping him from cycling through a few choice ones, trying to find one who’s mouthfeel and vitriol would encompass the capital B Bullshit he was putting up with today.
First off, waking up in a drunk tank was never a good way to start the morning. Especially not with that shithead Pratt, who’d lately taken to amusing himself by waking up the nightly collection of hedonists with decidedly non-regulation use of the prison’s speaker system. The only thing worse than waking up with a blistering headache and a knot in your back is having it happen to the tune of “Chicken Fried” at 120 decibels.
“Fuck, dude, I should kill ya for bad taste if nothin else!” He had tried to scream over the fuckin acoustic strumming. Pratt had just snickered, handing a coffee mug to his P.O., who looked just as amused by the whole scenario.
It was only after he’d shouted himself hoarse that Pratt finally agreed to give him his phone call. Voice squeaking with dehydration and overuse, he’d by some miracle got Hurk on the phone and tried to talk him into bailing him out. Problem was, Hurk was (as per fuckin usual) short on cash. The old man was also piss drunk mad at him (once again, usual), but he thought maybe Addie might be in a good enough mood to chuck a little his way. The thought of Aunt Adelaide had momentarily perked him up until he realized that if Hurk couldn’t get the money from her, he was gonna have to be able to talk to Hurk again to sort things out. And given how absolutely certain he was that Staci was going to shove the “one-phone-call-only” stick up his ass in a few minutes......that meant he was gonna have to stay on the line.
He spent the better part of two hours, head pounding, mouth only getting dryer as he listened to Hurk putter around looking for his keys, getting continually distracted, finally getting in the fuckin truck and driving up to the Marina, only to discover the reason Addie had seemed so good-tempered in her response to her only son’s good morning text is that, judging by what Sharky could hear over the tinny reception, she and Xander were....busy.
What followed was a three way screaming match of Addie yelling at Hurk to get the hell out, Sharky yelling at Hurk to stay the hell there, and Hurk yelling their responses back and forth across the phoneline.
Finally Xander tossed his wallet at Hurk in an effort to make him leave (“he seemed real excited about this harness thing Mama was fussin with, I dunno”), and after paying off his bail, slipping an extra fifty to keep his P.O happy, and begging a ride home, Sharky was more than ready to take some aspirin, find a six pack, and wash off last night’s hangover with a tonight’s beer.
No such luck. His truck had been impounded after last night’s little misadventure. And he felt his heart sink into the holes in his socks when he saw the big black Eden’s Gate cross in the window of the only liquor store in walking distance
“MotherFUCKINGdamnit not you too!”
Had he lost his temper a bit? Sure. Did he expect the windows to still be alarmed? No. But, he thought to himself as he beat feet into the woods before any cops could pick up on it, Eden’s Gate had only themselves to blame for it! Wasn’t enough that they had to get half of Holland Valley so all-fired on chastity that he couldn’t move without getting a pamphlet on lust shoved up his nose and down his pants, now they had to deprive him of his well-earned booze too!
Like most residents of Hope County he didn’t know what the hell the cops were playing at letting the Peggies keep running as they did. Sure, John Seed and Faith were running spin so well it made carousels jealous, but it was the state’s worst kept secret that the recent rash of disappearances could be pretty easily traced to them. Not to mention the scars most of their members were sporting....Hell, maybe he should recommend Pratt to the evangelists that came knocking through his trailer park early each Sunday.
.....No. No he wouldn’t. Jackass though he was....well. From the stories Sharky’d heard and the bits and pieces he’d seen for himself, he wouldn’t wish that on anyone’s head.
Still, he felt irritated. Frustration building inside him like a pressure cooker as he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, feeling his feet unconsciously make tracks for the ruins of the old roller derby. He needed to cool off.
People made the mistake of looking at him alongside Hurk and assuming he was just as mellow. He wasn’t. Sure, the weed and the beers kept him nice and chilled out, usually, but without a substance in his hands he was at the mercy of the spastic energy that was always cooped up in his body. He needed to...shit. Hit something maybe? Prank calls?
No.....no he knew this feeling.
He needed to burn something.
He fished the lighter out of his pocket, sending up a quick thank you that Pratt hadn’t taken it off him. He was running low on them with the new P.O sticking his nose into every nook and cranny to squirrel out contraband. Something about enablement and all the other bullshit his court-appointed therapist liked to recite to him in their bi-monthly sessions.
With a huff, he leaned against a tree, flicking it on and off again. Trying to lose himself in the little bright patch of flame. Sometimes this would at least take the edge off. Today, though? He was gonna need a lot more than a measly little two buck zippo.
His options were limited. Normally in a case like this he’d go for a campfire but it was the dry season and any smoke was certain to have those smarmy pricks from the fire department up his ass. He flicked the lighter a few more times, hoping maybe it’d concur with a lightbulb moment and he could have that dramatic satisfaction.
Out of the corner of his eye he suddenly saw a gleam of white aluminum.
He glanced over and instinctively dove behind the tree once he realized what it was. Police cruiser. Of all the days....He observed it cautiously before slowly emerging. Didn’t look like anyone was there. Keys weren’t even in.
He’d gotten acquainted enough with most of the police vehicles in town to know this one was Pratt’s chosen steed. You could tell by the number of air-fresheners he kept in there: one of his tricks he insisted made chicks feel more at home in a car.
(Not like Sharky’d tried that or anything. And even if he had, the lingering odors were finally coming out of the upholstery after the fourth wash. “Stripper smell” his ass....)
Most importantly, though, like most people around here, Pratt didn’t lock his doors....
Sharky’s lightbulbs usually took a while to kick on but this one seemed to burn a few watts brighter than most.
He took a quick check of the surrounding woods. Long practice had taught him what made for good kindling and what didn’t. It was pretty much the only thing he’d kept from a few frustrating years in 4H, aside from a couple of hoofshaped bruises on his arms and a healthy fear of pigs.
And that was the moment when he realized all the bullshit of the day had been leading him to this single, perfect, shining moment. Because right there, nested amongst a beautiful layer of crisp pine needles and perfectly dried out branches....was chamerion angustifolium.
More commonly known as fireweed.
He moved fast as he could, carefully laying the groundwork in the backseat of the cruise, setting it up with the savoir-faire of a practiced artist. The finished product damn near brought a tear to his eye. He couldn’t resist taking a picture, moving it to a hidden folder reserved for porn and particularly nice stills from period piece movies.
He’d just found some clubmoss and was debating whether or not he had the time, scraping the fine powder off the stalks and into the center of the tinder...
“I didn’t find anyone”
The voice jerked him out of his reverie and his head snapped up.
“Yeah, me either.” Said a tired voice. Wait, he knew that one.....Deputy Hudson?
He slowly poked his head around. Yeah, Hudson alright, stomping through the woods, looking her usual vaguely tired/irritated self. She was talking to a figure he didn’t recognize (and Sharky flattered himself that he was pretty familiar with the figures of Hope County).
Shit. Should he run?
“Should we call it in?” they were saying, hand reaching for the radio clipped to their belt.
Hudson sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I dunno. Lot of trouble to go to over a busted window. Specially when there wasn’t anyone in there.”
Fuck shiiiiit they were looking for him then. He thought about bolting, but.....he looked at the kindling. There was no way this wouldn’t point back to him. He raised his hand to smash it but it was like asking Leonardo to smash the Mona Lisa. Or was is Raphael? One of the turtles...
“Still, it is Eden’s Gate property now....will that be a problem?”
“It will be. Question is, if we care or not.”
The stranger looked down, biting their lip. Hudson seemed to notice and snorted. “Right. Look, I know they seem intimidating but if the department went into a frenzy everytime somethin happened that Joseph Seed didn’t like then we’d never stop frenzy.....ing.” She grimaced a bit at how the sentence ended.
“So what should we do.”
They were too close, if he bolted now they’d see him run.
“Tell ya what.” She came to a halt. “We’ll do a last sweep. If we don’t find anything we’ll call it a day. Tell Seed it was a big bird or something.”
“You’re sure?”
“Trust me, Rook, the sheriff won’t care and I don’t wanna be out here any longer than I have to be. You go left, I’ll go right, we meet back in ten minutes. Sound good?”
He let out a slow sigh of relief. They’d leave, he’d (carefully) dismantle the pile, and he’d be gone. No point doing it if Pratt wasn’t gonna suffer the consequences. He started to slowly rise to his feet.
“Alright, see you the-”
Several things happened in the span of a few seconds.
One. Sharky remembered the sleeve of his hoodie was a bad place to keep his lighter. He remembered this as he watched it topple out.
Two. his instincts kicked in and he snatched at it, catching it just as it hit the pile of spores. The contact of his hand made them fly into the air in a puff.
Three.
His thumb caught the sparkwheel.
He felt a sharp pain in his right hand that caused him to scramble backwards as his eyes were blinded by a bright flash. He felt his facial hair singe and a wall of heat on his face, and heard distant cursing.
Long experience had gotten him used to being blinded, and his vision recovered quickly. Quick enough to see the minor explosion evaporate out of the air, catching the tinder just as it faded away.
His ears were ringing and he didn’t hear them running towards the car, but he sure as shit felt it when the stranger cop tackled him to the ground. Hudson followed close behind, cursing loudly and hurriedly using the jacket to stifle the flames that were steadily eating through the upholstery.
“Who the hell are you?!” the stranger said, grabbing the front of his hoodie and pulling him up to look at them.
“uh.....Jimmy Buffet?” He said stupidly, mildly dazed. Didn’t help that this stranger had a pretty ass pair of eyes. Or maybe that was just the shock talking.
Hudson finally managed to choke out the fire, backing off and taking a deep breath before taking a look at the culprit.
“.....Boshaw?!”
What mirror had he broken
“You know him.”
“Ohhhh I know him.” Hudson straightened off, looking torn between anger and mild amusement. “The local serial arsonist. Thought Pratt had you drying out in the tank?”
“I wanna lawyer” He groaned.
“Yeah, yeah. Get off him, Rook, contrary to appearances, he isn’t dangerous. Just stupid.”
The stranger (Rook? Rookie? A last name? Who knew) clambered off him, looking slightly sheepish at having gone full Rambo for no apparent reason. “What should we do.”
“What you’re gonna do.” Hudson said, hauling him to his feet. “Is start the car and make sure it still runs.”
“Aw, c’mon, this aint necessary-” Even as he protested, out of long habit he assumed the position against the cruiser, wrists moving into position for easy cuffing.
“No, but it sure is fun” Hudson said, snapping them on. Loose. Which was almost more humiliating, and not in the fun way either.
The car turned on as normal.
“Well. Guess we don’t have to add ‘vehicle replacement’ to your list of fines.”
“I didn’t put nothin in the dash! I’m not tryin to kill anybody, just deal with some highly justifiable frustration-”
“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in court of law.” Hudson said quickly, cutting across his excuses as she forced him into the passenger side of the cruiser. “Rook, take him into the station, Pratt’ll know what to do. I’m gonna radio the Sheriff and let him know we found the window perp.”
“Hey, you got no evidence that was me!” He protested. “Just cause I happen to be in the same area as a liquor store doesn’t mean I’m-”
“How’d you know it was a liquor store.”
“........hey can we have a mulligan on the ‘right to remain silent’ thing-”
Hudson rolled her eyes. “Knowing Earl he’s gonna wanna come up himself and make sure the report’s in order. I’ll catch a lift back with him.”
“Got it.” Rook said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “See you at the station.”
They put it into drive and pulled out.
Sharky tried remaining in sullen silence but that was bound to last all of two minutes. His foot jiggled restlessly as he started racing through his options.
“Hey! You have any idea how serious this is?” they snapped, glaring at him. “What the hell were you trying to do?”
“Not talkin till I get a lawyer.”
“That ship’s kinda sailed don’t ya think? What the hell did you do, pour gasoline on the seats? An explosion that big, you’re lucky it didn’t destroy the car and take you out with it-”
“Its clubmoss”
“.....what?”
“Its clubmoss!” He said, snapping a bit more than he would’ve normally liked. But damn it, dude, this was the one area where he actually knew what the fuck he was talking about! Actin like Sharky Boshaw didn’t know exactly how much havoc he was wreaking was an insult to his professionalism. “Its basically plant flashbang.”
“What do you....”
“Here, just-” He slipped out of the cuffs easily enough, and ignoring their sputtering protests, he reached into the backseat and scraped up a handful of the green powder that hadn’t burned off in the explosion. “Slow the car down”
“I’m not gonna-...you-”
“I’m not gonna run. Not lookin to get tackled again.”
“....” Curiosity got the better of them and he felt the car slow to a crawl.
He rolled down the window, tossed the powder in the air, and in the same moment sparked his lighter. A burst of flame, much smaller than the last but burning out just as quick, appeared and disappeared, making Rook yelp.
“Clubmoss spores are chockful of lycopodium powder. They use it in movies and shit for special effects, the stuff doesn’t last long enough to cause real damage and won’t light unless it’s in the air.” He rolled back up the window, absently slipping the handcuffs back on. “Found that out from a behind the scenes featurette on this old bible movie from the church basement. Used to watch it a lot for the scene where God tossed down fire on the Egyptians or whoever. That is uh.....until the pastor confiscated it. Turns out the church basement still qualifies as holy ground and popping a boner anywhere on holy ground ain’t exactly considered kosher.”
.....Judging by the look on their face? Probably should have stopped after “behind the scenes featurette”
“So you’re a uh....special kind of crazy huh.”
“....The technical term is serial arsonist” He muttered, turning away with a flush.
“Well.....its a cool party trick at least.”
“Its-” Wait....wait, were they smiling?! Cops could smile at something that wasn’t the pain of others? Didn’t that violate some kind of code?
“Gotta say, if I were you I would’ve left the handcuffs off.” They turned onto the main road.
“Uh....” Shit, they really were cute. Or maybe that was the 6 months dry spell talking. “...gonna be honest, I don’t recall puttin em back on.” Cmon, cmon, think of something sexy to say. “Probably cause of uh...how used I am to being in handcuffs. For pleasurable reasons. I associate handcuffs with very....very good moments.” Nailed it.
“Well, given how much time Pratt says you’ve spent in holding cells I guess some of those memories have to be pleasant.”
Unnailed.
“So why’d you break the window?”
“What window.” He said instinctively. The Deputy gave him a Look and he shrugged. “.....look, I understand, freedom of religion and all that shit, but comin between a man and his liquor store has to qualify for some kind of offense, right?”
They snorted. “Well. Not that I don’t sympathize but I don’t know how well a judge is gonna take to that line of reasoning.”
“Wait, a judge? I don’t....look, we don’t need to take it that far-”
“Its probably what’s gonna happen. Those Peggies.....” their voice trailed off. Unsure how much shit-talking they could do in uniform. “Never seen a group so eager to press charges.”
Sharky groaned. “You gotta be fuckin....Officer, come on, I can’t do another couple months in prison. You know how boring it is in there? I mean, sure, the first few days are fine, you get to catch up with everyone, but after that you realize you’re gonna have to get used to watching all these guys take a piss for the next few months and it gets old real fast.”
“Its not really my call.”
“Its not like I even hurt anybody” This time. “Just a little reupholstering job, hell, I’ll stitch the damn seat cover myself-”
“I’m sorry but....I don’t think there’s anything I can do”
They sounded genuinely sympathetic, something he wasn’t used to from law enforcement. Maybe this one really did have a human side after all...
.....Well. Looked like the day had finally come that Sharky had been waiting for his whole life. He leaned back, pulling off his hat and running a hand through his hair a few times and trying to get a look at himself in the rearview mirror. Alright, so he wasn’t exactly Ryan Gosling, but this wasn’t the worst he’d ever looked...
“I mean uh...” He let his voice drop about a half octave and leaned into the hoarseness to go for that rougher quality. “If you want...I could find a way to make it worth your whILE”
His voice squeaked. Cracked like it hadn’t since early puberty.
A deathly silence settled over the car.
And then the deputy erupted in laughter.
Loud, long laughter, making their shoulders shake as they bent over the wheel. Gasping for air, they were forced to put the car in park just to keep them from driving off the road. Practically screaming with it.
“Alright, alright” He muttered, shoving his hat back on as his face went bright red. “I can take a hint”
They pounded the dash. “Y-you-....you-!” Tears were streaming down their face as they snorted helplessly. And despite the humiliation of the scenario....it was infectious enough to make him crack unwittingly into a grin.
Eh, what the hell, longer it took them to recover, longer he was out of prison.
“What’s so fuNNY” He said, forcing the crack again, which reinvigorated the laughing.
“Stop, stop, I-I’m gonna puke” They gasped out, choking a bit.
Sharky patted their back. “Sooo that’s a no I’m guessin.”
They shook their head, grinning ear to ear and straightening up as they caught their breath. “Get going.”
“What?”
“Go. Leave the handcuffs. I’ll make up some excuse.”
“....you’re serious?” His eyes widened. “Please, fuck, be serious, Staci let me get like 20 feet before hitting me with a taser in the back and let me tell you that think hurts like a bit-”
“You’ve been punished enough today, I think. And we’ve got actual threats to deal with these days.” They pulled off a key from the ring and handed it to him. “No offense.”
“....I mean, ok, a little offense normally, but given the circumstances, none taken” He unlocked the cuffs quickly and shot out of the car before they could change their mind.
“Hey, Boshaw!”
“Uhhh.....you can call me Sharky. Sounds a bit more normal.” He turned back to look at them.
They smiled. “Sharky then. Honey in tea is gonna help that voice of yours a lot more than beer. And try not to burn the forest down on the way.”
“Can do ma’-...si-....officer!” He waved and ran off fast as he could. He heard their laughter echoing a bit as the car pulled off.
.....Maybe it might be worth sticking on the right side of the law for a couple weeks, at least.
Or maybe not. How the hell else was he gonna see them again?
#far cry 5#fc5#far cry deputy#we all know its canon staci was kind of an asshole before the game#so i rode that#staci pratt#joey hudson#sharky boshaw#sharky boshaw x deputy#sharky x dep#far cry rook#deputy x sharky#hurk drubman jr#adelaide drubman
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Snowflake
To: Vanessa @halfwaygones
From: Steph @harrysmeadow
Summary: It’s the most wonderful time of the year, but not when your parents leave you on your own for the holidays and the best thing you’ve got is a ready meal from M&S to see you through the big day. So when Elsie travels to a different home for Christmas, will the day be as magical as she hoped it would be?
“We’ve always been a good team haven’t we?” Elsie mused, as she put the final touches on the work she and her closest friend had spent the past few hours on.
“We have,” Harry agreed with a grin, going to stand by her. “This just proves it.”
Stood in the corner of the Styles’ living room was the newly decorated Christmas tree. With beads instead of tinsel, and an absolute mis-mash of baubles that didn’t at all match, it was slightly different than usual, but a different that Harry liked, a different he could get used to. Elsie had always had a unique way of doing things, she was different in her own way, but still always fit in.
And stood next to the twinkling tree, propped up on her tiptoes, trying to make sure the angel on the highest branch was secure, was the most beautiful angel Harry had ever seen. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her with him at Christmas, even if it wasn’t in the exact way that he wished for. He felt guilty though, the circumstances weren’t great for her, but she’d ended up with him, and for that he had to be thankful.
“Oh wow!” Another voice called out from behind them. “The tree looks great guys!”
“Thanks Mum,” Harry replied happily.
“Elsie, do you want to come round and decorate for us every year? The Styles household could do with a bit of Elsie Christmas magic,” Anne winked in Harry’s direction. He shuffled away quickly pretending to fix something on the tree, and tried desperately hard not to blush.
“Thank you so much again for having me Anne,” Elsie said. “It’s so lovely getting to spend Christmas with you all. Although I’m sure Harry is sick of me following him around everywhere, he can’t get rid of me at work and now I’m here too!”
“You’re more than welcome my love, couldn’t have you all on your own at Christmas now could we? She replied.
“Well I really appreciate it, it was very kind of Harry to offer.”
***
It was a cold winter’s morning when Harry had put the plans for a new project they’d just signed on to on Elsie’s desk and she’d thanked him with a grin and a promise to buy him a cinnamon swirl from the bakery across the road at lunch time. A little while later when he decided it was time for a brew, he headed to the breakroom. He popped the kettle on, and grabbed his ‘Mr Work-a-holic” mug Elsie had bought him for his birthday last year, which reminded him to ask her if she wanted a drink too. He turned in the direction of her office, but remained at the kitchen counter watching her instead when he saw her through the glass.
She was on the phone, to who Harry didn’t know, but he could tell, even from the distance that she was upset. She was slumped back in her chair and the corner of her mouth was twitching slightly, her free hand was continuously raking through her long blonde hair and tugging at the knots caused by the winter winds at the end.
He hoped it wasn’t a client she was talking to. He knew how hard she worked on every project that landed on her desk, and if someone was telling her that what she created wasn’t good enough, it would crush her.
Abandoning his tea Harry rushed back to his own office and rummaged around his drawers until he found what he was looking for. Elsie’s emergency hot chocolate. He didn’t even know if this was a true hot chocolate worthy emergency yet, but he felt like it would be appreciated nonetheless.
When he went back to the break room to make her drink he saw her hang up the phone and drop her head to her chest, and in doing so Harry’s heart dropped too. He didn’t know whether she was feeling sadness, anger or pain, but he did know that he didn’t ever want her to feel those things.
Elsie spun around in her chair and a small but thankful smile appeared on her lips, when she saw Harry appear at her doorway holding out the mug towards her. “How did you know?” She asked, sounding slightly dejected as she reached out to take the hot drink from his hands.
“Was in the breakroom and saw you on the phone, it didn’t look good so I brought in the big guns,” he joked, and she huffed a small chuckle before taking a sip.
“You’re an angel,” she smiled, and Harry resisted the urge to tell her the same.
“You ok Els?” He asked.
She drew a deep breath and placed the mug on the desk, immediately she began twisting the rings on her fingers, turning them so the jewels on each one sat perfectly in the middle.
Elsie was a perfectionist, she always had been. Everything she did was carefully planned and prepared for, whether it was the next week’s dinner she was making in advance or the final design for a client at work. She didn’t like surprises. She wasn’t a control freak, she knew when to step back and let others have a turn, but when she did have the chance to do things her way she’d try her best to make sure everyone was happy.
“Yeah I’m fine. I just got off the phone with my Mum. She said her and Dad are going on a cruise for Christmas. She got some deal on an over 50’s couples package. So looks like I’ll be having a ready meal from M&S at dinner time on the big day,” she huffed, before taking a big swig of the hot chocolate.
“You’re joking right?” Harry replied confused. Why would anyone not want to be with Elsie at Christmas he thought.
“Nope. First time ever I’m not gonna see my parents on Christmas day.”
“Could you not go to Immie’s? Surely your sister would take you in?” he puzzled, trying to think of some ideas that might help.
“I’m not homeless Harry!” she laughed.
“Right, yeah sorry,” he chuckled with a shake of his head.
“Well I love a good spinach and ricotta ravioli from M&S anyway, so who’s the real winner?” she joked, but Harry could see through her bright exterior.
“Els, you can’t be serious. You’re not sitting at home on your own on Christmas day,” he stressed. Harry knew how much she loved Christmas and the holiday season, he only had to look around the room the were in to find an abundance of decorations that she brought out every year in the office. As soon as bonfire night was over, the next day she’d show up to work with a festive jumper and a big box of tinsel to hang up and around the cupboards in the break room. ‘It makes people happy!’ she would reply to Harry when every year he asked her why she was so excited to put them up.
“Well what am I supposed to do instead?” she replied exasperated, because it was true, she didn’t want to be alone on Christmas day. Elsie had always believed the holidays were about spending time with family, friends and loved ones. She adored the traditions her own family had come to make over the years, like how every year they’d each get a new bauble and they all put them on the tree before they started opening presents. She loved the afternoon walk around the fields that surrounded the village she lived in after she’d stuffed herself full of Christmas dinner and seeing the smiling faces of her younger family members fully enchanted by the Christmas spirit made her heart so warm.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, his subconscious egging him on to ask the question, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Come to mine!” he wanted to exclaim! Because Harry wanted nothing more than to welcome her into his home that would be full of love and joy at Christmas. He didn’t think he’d be able to sit through his family Christmas dinner knowing that Elsie was sat alone in her flat with a TV dinner.
There were other reasons why he wanted her there too, reasons that were fighting to jump out of the box he’d had them stored them away in for so long because of fear and doubt, but now wasn’t a time he was prepared to let them out.
The invitation never came, and instead he mumbled a generic ‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out’ as the thoughts in his brain started eating away at him, and he left her alone in the room.
***
“Did you finish drawing up the plans for Mrs Dean’s guest bedroom today?” Elsie asked as she locked the office door behind them for the night.
“Yeah I did, remind me to give them to you in the morning,” Harry replied, waiting by the door and rocking back on his heels with his hand in his pockets trying to keep them warm.
“Oh brilliant,” she said turning around adjusting her scarf to try and keep out the cold. “I had some ideas for the wallpaper and carpet but I didn’t want to start on a mood board until you’d finished them,” she shrugged.
“Elsie, you’re not supposed to base your design around how I’ve done the plan,” he laughed. “How many times have we had this conversation?”
“We’re a team Harry! We’re meant to work around each other, that’s all I was doing,” she grinned cheekily, knowing he wouldn’t argue with her any more.
As they started the familiar route home the fallen autumn leaves whirring around Harry’s feet reminded him of the thoughts that wouldn’t settle in his mind.
Christmas, family, Elsie, work, secret santa, Elsie, Elsie, Elsie.
As the hours ticked by after he’d left her office, Harry had only grown more and more frustrated with himself. Was he truly so selfish as to leave her alone at Christmas to protect his own feelings?
He could already hear the nagging words of his Mum when she would inevitably find out that Elsie spent the holidays by herself. “I did not raise you to be so ignorant and rude, you know she’s always welcome here, why would you not invite her? I have half a mind to make you drive to her house and bring her here now!’ she would probably say, and Harry would agree with her, that he wasn’t raised that way, but he couldn’t tell her the reasons why he never asked.
Every time he’d walked past her office door and he saw the dull look on her face, that didn’t at all match the tinsel and lights that surrounded her, he wanted to kick himself. He’d had a chance to make her happy, and he didn’t take it.
He looked down to where his trusty winter boots trampled across the crumbling leaves and a small smile crept onto his lips at the sight of the pair that walked beside him. It was a familiar sight, but one he still loved. After all this time she was still there, right by him when he needed her most. He couldn’t help but smile, it was just an automatic reaction when it came to Elsie and it had been that way for years. Harry decided that he had to be brave. He couldn’t let her down.
The bitter chill in the air had made her cheeks and the tip of her nose a rosy pink, and as much as the chunky grey scarf that was wrapped around her tried to keep her toasty and warm, it didn’t hide the shivers that made her hands and shoulders shake. Well not from Harry at least.
Harry noticed a lot of things about Elsie. When they met at university some of the first things he noticed were how her nose would always twitch twice before she sneezed, and that she almost never wore matching socks. As they got to know one another it was her kind and gentle nature that Harry was so drawn to. After a few months she’d memorised his lecture timetable and whenever she could, she’d have a cup of tea and a chocolate digestive waiting for him when he got back to the flat.
Harry supposed it was the way they noticed so much about each other that cemented their friendship so quickly into something long lasting.
When they lived together in second and third year he realised quickly how fiercely loyal she was. Never one to leave a friend behind on a group night out, she was always the one to make sure everyone got home safely. When his Grandma Rose passed away and he couldn’t make it back home to be with his family, Elsie was the one quietly slipped out of the house giving him some alone time. When she returned though, she had with her the most beautiful rose he’d ever seen. It hadn’t yet fully bloomed, but she fed it, watered it and loved it right up until they had move out when they graduated. She was the one who kept it alive.
After they got their degree and the idea of setting up their own business together was still just that, an idea, it was her determined spirit that got them off the ground. They’d both refined the skills they were taught at university and their strengths worked perfectly together. All the years of hard work and studying that they’d spent together only made her more confident that they could do it.
If it wasn’t for Elsie, Harry had no idea how his life could have turned out.
And just like the leaves that remained on the tree’s branches, hanging on while the wind blew around them, Harry was running out of time before his idea would tumble to the ground. ‘Come on Harry, be brave,’ he thought.
“Would you wanna spend Christmas with me?” he blurted out quickly before the sudden burst of confidence disappeared.
Her wide eyes told him nothing of what she was thinking, and he tried desperately not to immediately retract the offer in an attempt to save his pride. He could feel a sudden heat in his cheeks despite the icy weather, and he didn’t know what to do to save himself from the embarrassment of being rejected.
Why this had become such a big deal in his mind, Harry couldn’t quite figure out. It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t ever see her again if she said no, they’d be back at work together in the new year. He supposed it was just something about this time of the year. Christmas always makes everyone so happy. And Harry was happy, he couldn’t be more grateful for everything that he had, but when it seemed to him that everyone around him was spending the holidays with a significant other, it was hard for him to ignore the feelings he’d been holding back for so long.
The gentle touch of a hand grabbing his own pulled him from his never-ending thoughts. Elsie stood with her eyes on him and a smile that Harry knew he’d never forget.
“Harry that’s so kind, I’d love to,” she gleamed.
“Are you sure?” he replied, without thinking.
“Yes, Harry! Of course I am, thank you so much. I promise you won’t even notice I’m there.”
***
Harry was sure she was otherworldly by design. Like a snowflake never the same, because every day he saw something new and different in her, that he thought only made her more beautiful.
The way that the twinkle in her eye was like a glint of sunlight bouncing off of a precious crystal, had him entranced. He thought they should name a crystal after the colour of her eyes.
“Harry!?”
“Huh?” He replied, slightly startled. Looking up quickly from the comfort of his Grandad’s old armchair to where Elsie stood in front of him looking concerned.
“You’re away with the fairies! Are you ok? You seemed miles away,” she asked.
“Sorry, yeah I’m fine. Just thinking about work,” he lied, easily. Over the years Harry had become quite good at thinking up quick excuses after he’d been caught daydreaming about Elsie. It happened more than he’d like to admit.
“Harry, come on now, you need to stop stressing. It’s Christmas Eve, not time for work,” she lightly scalded. “Anyway, I’ve got something to get you in the festive spirit, come on!” She reached for him, and he gladly took her hand as he stood from the chair. He didn’t know where she was taking him, but he was sure he’d follow her anywhere.
***
Wrapped in layers of jumpers and scarves they headed out into the cold. The air was bitter and the ground had a sheen of frost, there hadn’t been snow yet, but thick grey clouds hung low in the sky giving an early warning of the weather to come.
Only the addition of snow would have made the back streets of Harry’s hometown look like one from the front of a christmas card. The towering Victorian town houses already had bushy wreaths full of hops and holly, hanging from different coloured painted wooden doors, and the big bay windows were filled with decorated trees of all sizes, and framed with twinkling lights.
Harry loved his home at Christmas time. Being away from the city he found happiness in the small things, like watching the Robin’s and Chaffinches in the garden while he sipped on his morning tea, rather than having to wait in line at the cafe opposite the office. Being able to spend time with his family at home, was something he never took for granted.
He looked over to his side at Elsie as they rounded the corner onto the main street in town, she seemed happy, content at least. And that was all he could ask for. All the while they’d been at Harry’s Mum’s house he’d taken to paying more attention to Elsie than usual. If that was even possible. He was so worried about her getting down because she wasn’t with her own family he was constantly checking up on her, asking if she was ok.
Having a shower in the morning had become the most stressful part of the day for him. A million questions circled his brain while he was trying to focus on just having a wash. Was she ok without him? Did she need a drink? Had she realised she’d forgotten to pack something and was too shy to ask his Mum to borrow it? Was his sister asking intrusive questions? Was she too cold and needed a blanket? But he couldn’t help her if she needed it or not, he was in the shower. He thought maybe he should change his schedule, to shower when she slept so he wouldn’t stress as much.
Instead he’d rush downstairs as quick as he could, his hair not even dry, the ringlets dropping tiny droplets of water onto the carpet as he went. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he spotted her in the kitchen, she was sitting alone.
“Are you ok?” he fretted, as soon as he walked into the room.
Elsie jumped at the sound of his voice, startled by his entrance that she hadn’t seen. “Bloody hell Harry be careful, I’ve got a boiling tea in my hand, almost made me drop it!” she exclaimed.
“Elsie dear I don’t mean to speak for you,” another voice said, which in turn startled Harry. He’d been so preoccupied with Elsie he hadn’t even noticed his Mum sitting across at the other side if the table. “But Harry love, I get that you’re trying to make our guest comfortable, but stop being so intense, she’s fine,” Anne stressed with a roll of her eyes, and Harry didn’t miss the giggle that escaped from Elsie that she tried to hide behind her mug of tea.
“Right, yeah sorry,” he mumbled.
He made a conscious effort to cool off after that, but he was struggling a bit. What if she was cold now and needed another scarf? Or what if the cold air was giving her a sniffly nose and she needed a tissue?
Elsie turned her head, obviously able to sense his stare, and met his eyes.
“Harry, stop worrying!” she begged. “I can see you getting in your own head, I’m fine!” she laughed from beside him, gripping at his arm and pulling herself closer to him.
When they reached the market square at the end of the main street in the town they wandered through the stalls. Their arms unlinked at some point as their interests took them in different directions, Elsie chatted away to the little old ladies selling charity Christmas cards and Harry stopped by the floristry stall to get a bouquet for his Mum.
“Harry, come look at these!” she called over to him, from where he was now looking at what was left of the seasonal veggies that everyone had clearly bought in time for their Christmas dinner. Only a few rogue sprouts remained.
He joined her at another market stall, one that was a lot more exciting than the vegetables. The table was covered in hand decorated Christmas tree baubles, of all different colours and textures. As they turned and swung gently in the breeze, the winter sun reflected and twinkled from the glittering surfaces.
“Wow they’re so pretty.” he commented, picking one up and inspecting it closely.
“I know, if I was going home for Christmas I would have bought one for Mum to put on the tree like I usually do,” Elsie replied.
It was only in that moment that Harry was reminded of his reality. He’d become so wrapped up in the time he was getting to spend with Elsie, that he’d forgotten that it probably wouldn’t ever happen again. They weren’t supposed to spend Christmas with each other. In the end she’d go back to her own family.
“It’s ok to miss them,” Harry told her.
“I know! But they’ve only gone on a bloody cruise, they’re not dead! I’ll see them next week! Don’t know why I’m moping around so much.” She exclaimed, turning away from Harry and walking back into the bustling market.
***
Out in the hallway, rocking back and forth on his heels and looking down to the small parcel in his hands, Harry’s mind was running over and over. The creaking sound of the floorboards were doing nothing to calm his nerves as he went back and forth deciding whether what he was about to do was a good idea or not.
It was still dark outside, but no stars were out, they’d had their time through the night to come out and shine and watchover the world while it slept, but they’d begun to retreat back behind the clouds to make way for the brightest giant that appeared in the morning.
And Harry thought it best to do what he wanted to do before the sun woke everyone else up.
With a steady hand he lightly pushed open the door beside him, and crept quietly into the room. He could see the stocking, hanging onto the end of the bed frame where his Mum had placed it before Elsie had arrived in the hopes of making her feel more welcome.
“Santa?” a sleepy voice sounded.
He hadn’t noticed in his quest to dodge the cushions that were scattered on the floor on his way to the stocking that Elsie had risen from her sleep.
“Uhhh yeah, sure. It’s me Santa. Go back to sleep,” he tried, not wanting to look up.
“Wait. Harry.. Are you Santa?” she replied excitedly.
He couldn’t help but laugh at that one and he looked up to where she was attempting to crawl across the messed up duvet on the bed to try and see what he was doing.
Her hair looked to Harry like one giant knot, with ends poking out in all different directions, and the remnants of a bit of mascara she’d missed when washing her face the night before were smeared underneath her eyes. The festive Christmas pj’s she had on were bunched up above the fluffy socks that were keeping her feet warm in the cold winter nights, and even though she’d just woken up Harry was sure her eyes were shining as bright as the stars that had just hidden themselves away.
“Well I mean, I do have a gift with me so maybe I am,” he joked.
“For me?” she asked as she reached the edge of the bed closest to where Harry was still stood with the box in his hands.
“Yeah, I was trying to sneak in and put it in your stocking, but I should have remembered from uni how much of light sleeper you are,” he grinned and she giggled.
“This is probably the first time I’ve seen you in your pj’s since then,” she commented.
“Yeah you’re probably right,” Harry replied a little awkwardly, as he definitely hadn’t planned on having Elsie see his Grinch pajamas his Mum had bought him.
“I miss our movie and pj days,” she mused, looking up to him through her lashes.
Harry did too. Any one on one time he got to spend with Elsie he missed. University to Harry now seemed like a distant memory he wasn’t even one hundred percent sure happened, it seemed more like a dream.
He spent pretty much every waking hour with Elsie, having breakfast together before going to lectures and seminars, coming home and cooking tea for each other, sharing a blanket on the sofa in an evening watching the latest ITV drama. It was the simple things.
Sure they worked together now, but it was different. He didn’t get to have his arm draped over her shoulder when they went for lunch at the deli across the street, like he used to be able to when she’d get scared by the film they were watching and wanted somewhere to hide. He couldn’t knock on her office door and complain about all the work they had to do, and then just not do the work and instead spend the rest of the day drinking tea and talking and laughing together.
“Yeah me too, anyway do you want me to leave this in the stocking or take it downstairs and put it under the tree?” he asked, quickly trying to brush over the sensitive topic.
“Can I maybe open it now while you’re here?” she asked tentatively, biting the corner of her bottom lip.
Harry knew he couldn’t say no, even though this was what he’d desperately tried to avoid. “Uh yeah, here you go,” he mumbled, passing over the somewhat neatly wrapped parcel to her.
“Why are you being weird?” she puzzled, slowly taking the package from him.
“I’m not!” he countered quickly.
“Yes you are,” she claimed. “You haven’t moved from that one spot this whole time and you’re just acting funny.”
“Well I don’t know if you even want me in here or not, I wasn’t supposed to be!”
Elsie rolled her eyes. “Harry of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” she huffed as she threw back the covers from where she’d made her way back to the top of the bed and made room for him beside her. “Come on, in you get.”
He shuffled in beside her, quitely relishing in her warmth, but trying not to overstep the boundaries.
He watched her intently as she began to rip the paper from the present, “Merry Christmas Elsie,” he smiled as the last piece of paper fell away to revealing what was inside.
As she held the bauble up in her hands by the loop at the top it began to turn. The teal and gold colours weren’t traditionally ‘christmassy’, but Elsie had never liked to go with the crowd. The light from the rising sun which was barely peeking through the curtains in thin little streams began to bounce and reflect off of the glitter and sparkle which covered the bauble in all different patterns and shapes. Harry watched as the walls became scattered with twinkling light, it looked like the stars had reappeared.
Elsie watched the bauble, and as it spun in her hands, she thought. Thought about Christmas, her family, her home, and Harry. Harry who, throughout all the years they’d known each other had done nothing but care for her and support her. Harry who had brought her into his family home at Christmas and done everything possible to try and make her happy and comfortable. Harry who was timid and shy, but listened intently to everything she had to say. Harry who knew she was missing home, and still found a way to bring home to her.
“Do you like it?” he asked timidly.
Harry saw first a tear that was threatening to escape the corner of her eye when she turned to look at him, and it sparked an instant feeling of worry in his gut.
“No! No it was supposed to make you happy! Not make you cry!” He fretted, reaching out to her and gently wiping away the tear that was rolling down her cheek.
As soon as he’d had the chance to sneak away at the market the day before, he knew he wanted to get her one of the decorations that they’d both been enchanted by. If she couldn’t give one to someone else and hang it on her tree at home as part of her tradition, then he’d give her one to put anywhere she wanted.
Elsie carefully put down the decoration in between them on the bed, and placed her hand on Harry’s that was still settled gently on her cheek. He could feel her beginning to form a smile underneath his hand before he saw it, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Harry I’m so happy you have no idea,” she said. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Just like you,” he whispered, almost to himself.
He wasn’t sure where the confidence came from for him to say that, but he thought it might have had something to do with the way Elsie had intertwined her fingers with his and was gently leaning into his hand. It was only something small, but with Elsie, Harry always noticed.
“I just didn’t want you to have to miss out on your tradition just because you’re here,” he added.
“Thank you Harry you’re an angel,” she gushed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go.
He suddenly became aware of how long he’d been touching her for, he pulled his hand away from her cheek and quickly began picking at the rough edges of his fingers, subconsciously hoping the pain there would distract him from how he noticed that he instantly missed the warmth of her skin.
He could feel her shuffling around next to him, and he took that as a sign for him to move. He’d overstayed his welcome. But as he made his way across her room, she dropped her feet to the floor over the side of the bed and eagerly followed him to the door.
“Where do you think I should put it?” Elsie pondered, holding the decoration up in front of her as she reached him.
“You don’t have to put it anywhere if you don’t want to,” Harry spluttered, backing himself again the door and grabbing hold of the handle getting ready to leave. “I know it’s not your house so you may not feel the same about it and it’s fine, I want you to do what you like with it, but youare allowed to put it up here if you want to, it’s ok mum won’t mind, there’s room on the tree downst-”
Suddenly her hand was on his again pushing the door behind them closed, but her lips were on his too.
It was a new and foreign feeling for Harry but one that he’d dreamt of a thousand times over or more. And if he thought his head was spinning when he was only thinking about it, to actually experience it felt like he’d been turned upside-down and thrown into a different dimension.
Her lips were soft and sweet but she was holding herself against him like she was about to be pulled away. Her fingers had slotted themselves between his own that remained balanced on the door handle and her other arm was trapped between them, her fist gripping onto his t-shirt tightly.
Even though his own hands were resting lightly on her waist, all he wanted to do was throw his arms around her and pull her even closer, hold on to her as tight as he could hoping that she could somehow feel all the love he’d had locked away for her that he was finally letting free.
Their lips moved like a dance that had been rehearsed a hundred times, in sync and working perfectly together. Just like Harry had always hoped they would.
When their lips parted, their foreheads met and the smile that Harry saw on Elsie’s face was the best Christmas present he could have asked for. They spent a minute just feeling the moment, processing what it meant for them and their future. Neither of them pulled away.
Elsie had always known the way Harry looked at her was different, but she wondered if he’d known the way she looked at him was different too. It hadn’t always been that way for her, but her feelings had grown and changed over time. With the way he was with her, how could she not fall for him? He’d always been timid and shy, and Elsie knew it was only right to give him the time he needed to make a decision about her. She knew that Harry was struggling, but she never wanted to push. She could wait.
Harry on the other hand was wondering why he ever waited at all. If he’d known the possibility of rejection would seem so small and feeble compared to the pure bliss of just being able to hold her close he wouldn’t have even waited a day to tell her how he felt.
Looking down at her now, the closest they’d ever been, he was already seeing so much more than he had before. He’d always been mesmerized by her eyes, but seeing up close all the colours that made them what they were, he was sure they must have missed some out of the rainbow. He brought his hand up to her face, his thumb lightly tracing over her soft skin, he still had to make sure this was real.
Biting down on her bottom lip Elsie couldn’t hide the level of pure delight she was feeling being in Harry’s hands, and in her moment of glee she peered up at him through her lashes and placed another short and sweet kiss on his lips.
“Angel,” she giggled.
“My Snowflake,” he whispered.
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04 Advance Planning Is For Sissies
Ao3 link
07/07/13 Sunday
Clary finally started to bust the bicycle out on a regular basis after the excitement of the Fourth. Stan and Dipper helped her swap out the nubby mountain tires for hybrid slicks. She cut a trim, handsome figure in close-fitted shorts, jersey, bandana and helmet when she cruised into town to explore. Stan had overheard Ford giving her a stern albeit somewhat edited lecture on the hazards of Gravity Falls’ woodland trails, and she hadn’t risked the forest yet, which was probably wise.
The bits of conversation he picked up while running his own errands indicated that she was plenty busy as it was, hitting up every farmstand, the museum and Greasy’s within a couple of days. She was already ‘that tourist staying with the Pines’ and the object of bored midsummer curiosity in town.
A tiny aluminum bike trailer had been unearthed from the Fairlane’s wayback. Clary used that to haul all manner of cargo, mostly provisions, as they were mowing through eggs and everything else at a terrifying pace. She’d brought back some odd bits and pieces of costume jewelry and scarves from the thrift store, too, and had promised Mabel a run to the swap meet the next weekend.
Soos had in fact dug the ‘midnight mink’ and was happily working up a new display - ‘Dreaming Denizens,’ or ‘Northwest Nightmares,’ or something else alliterative. Sketches laying out one of the exhibit spaces as a blackout room were scattered across the desk in the office. Stan admitted to himself that it might be fun. Technology had come a long way since the days of glow-in-the-dark paint and twinkle lights.
But what that meant was a new assortment of oddities, and that meant assembly work, and that meant parts, of which the Shack had next to nothing at this point. Stan walked the showroom in late afternoon, taking mental note of what could be repurposed and what they’d need to patch in.
For that matter, he needed parts of another sort for Clary’s station wagon.
“Am I interrupting something important between you and the Goosurkey?” Clary padded up alongside him, hands in pockets. Today’s kerchief was songbirds on pale blue.
“Nope, just thinkin’ ahead. Soos is on a bit of a tear as I’m sure you know.”
“He offered me a job...in case I get stranded here for good. Imaginating Consultant and Staff Accountant.”
Stan half choked before he laughed full-throated. “Thought he had more faith in my repair skills than that.”
“I’m sure he does. He wanted to make sure I felt welcome, that’s all. What are you up to this afternoon? I find myself at loose ends if you could use a spare pair of hands.”
He thought that one over, assessing her through the corner of one eye, piecing together the beginnings of a plan. “…I’ve got a couple errands t’run. You wanna tag along?”
“Depends on what kind of errands you have in mind.”
“The usual weeknight stops. I need a getaway driver and the kids aren’t legal.”
It was her turn to splutter through a laugh. “As if you’d let me lay hands on your precious classic wheels!”
“I don’t know, kid, haven’t you already proven that you’ve got a steady touch?” Watching her go pink with pique was an absolute pleasure. Yeah, this had the potential to be both entertaining and useful. “I’m headin’ out around end of day. Wear black – somethin’ you don’t mind gettin’ dirty.”
To her credit Clary squinted at him with instant suspicion. “You want me to bring extra bobby pins while I’m at it?”
“I’ve got that covered, don’t sweat it.” He winked cheerfully and left her in his wake, mentally plotting out the night’s route.
He’d gathered up all the kit he’d need by the time daylight was winding down into dusk. Stan stepped out onto the porch and nearly tripped over Clary, perched on the top step, tapping who-knew-what into her phone. He yelped, she yelped back and jerked out of the way, and he looked her over critically as he regained his balance. Somewhere in that duffel bag she’d managed to rummage up black jeans, long sleeves and sensible running shoes. The scarves snug at her throat and sleeking back her pinned-up hair were mismatched shades of navy blue, but close enough.
“Wasn’t sure you’d be coming,” he said, though really he’d been pretty sure.
“Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a private late-night tour of Gravity Falls with local legend Mr. Mystery? I can’t pass that up.” Clary rose, toggling the phone to silent and slipping it into her back pocket. “What’s on the itinerary?”
“You’ll see.” She rolled eyes at him but tagged along amiably enough, dropping into the passenger side of the El Diablo and draping a lazy arm along the top edge of the seat while he tossed the backpack of tools and a few other oddments into the trunk. They cruised out into the gathering dark with bad 80s pop for a soundtrack and a mutually-appraising silence.
She pointed an idle thumb down towards Gravity Falls proper as they passed the turnoff. “Not a grocery run.”
“Nope.”
“How far out?”
“Twenty minutes, maybe.”
Her laugh was low and brief as she studied him. “All right. Hobbies?”
“Really?” Stan smiled a little as he drove, his eyes cutting to hers in the mirror.
“I could start singing, but hair metal is really not my bag. I’ll trade mine for yours.”
“Yours‘re probably boring.”
“Ouch. The least you can do is give me a chance to prove otherwise. Besides, didn’t you bring me along to interrogate me in private?”
He did chuckle at that. “Maybe. So, yeah, I make one-of-a-kind art pieces - “ The fingers at the steering wheel’s edge went up in sketchy air quotes. “Fishin’. Monster huntin’ and general explorin’ with Ford, though that’s more the day job these days, I guess.” The quiet weight of her regard didn’t lift and he shifted in his seat. “Boxin’, long time ago. You?”
“Thought you must have been in some kind of sport as a kid. Me, you’ve seen the bike. I read a lot. Thrift store diving, I like vintage stuff. Museums.” One splayed hand obscured her smile as she turned to look out the windshield at the darkening green blur of rural scenery. “Dance, sometimes. Haven’t had much time the last couple of years.”
The likely reasons for that were fairly obvious so he didn’t pry. “There’s not a ton to do out here in the off-season, y’know, so now and then I used t’host somethin’ for the locals. I’ve been gettin’ pestered for a dance party since I got back. You want in?”
“Absolutely. Let me know if I can help out.”
“Maybe we take a turn in the ring while we’re at it. Dipper asked me to show him a few things, might as well teach you too. You’re tall enough to be a decent sparrin’ partner.” Stan spun the wheel easily with one hand, heading down a familiar long gravel drive. “With Dipper I’ve practically got to be on my knees. And I am not that flexible these days.”
There was a hesitation before she responded. “Sure. Though I’m pretty sure I’m better with my feet than my fists.”
The El Diablo eventually pulled up in a little clearing populated by battered sheds, a well-worn pickup and a trailer home that he knew hadn’t budged in decades. Clary took a wary look around, mouth drawing tight in doubt.
“Supplies,” he rumbled, setting the car in park and unbuckling. “Since it looks like Soos is determined to do an overhaul while he’s got me around to help out. Make yourself comfortable. Won’t be long.” He chuckled at her open apprehension. “Relax, kid. Nothin’s gonna pop out of the woods t’drag you screamin’ out of the car. That only happens on new moon and that’s tomorrow.” Stan tapped his chin in mock rumination. “I think.”
“Very funny.”
“You’ll be fine, promise, I’ll be right back.” He was still laughing under his breath as he headed up to the front door.
It was a quick exchange - he’d called ahead and so there was a boxload of stuff waiting for him, cash for critter bits, easy enough. Stan struggled a bit with the driver’s side back door and Clary tucked legs under to kneel on the seat, reaching clear across to pop the door latch. She grabbed the edge of the box once it hit the seat and tugged it over into the middle, peering in at the contents under the wan illumination of the dome light. “Ooh. New skulls!”
“Soos is gonna need a few more mink things, yeah. What is it with you and weasels?”
“Professional courtesy.”
He snorted softly as the car rolled along. “Just how many of those do you know?”
“All of them.” His glance of disbelief was met with her mild smile. “All right, here’s the thing, we tax types are well known as the most humorless beings on the planet. Intimate acquaintance with the IRS, unhealthy obsession with spreadsheets, all that. I figured out pretty early on that people made assumptions. I read up a little. I got to know some of the other folks on the professional circuit in Baltimore...which is a company town, believe me, everyone there is either in government, education or crime….”
“Go on.” He had an inkling where this was going, a slow smile starting to curl.
“I thought I might as well leverage those assumptions.”
“You conned your fellow ambulance chasers.”
“Hey. I am no ambulance chaser and don’t you forget it.” She levelled a fierce glare and an accusing index finger his way. “All I did was win an occasional bar bet by outlasting every loudmouth who thought I was a pushover. If I felt merciful I’d order a glass of the best brandy in the joint and nurse it all night. If I felt less merciful….” Her shoulders rolled in a careless shrug. “There was enough turnover every couple of years that I always had marks.”
“So y’think I can’t keep up?”
“I know for a fact that you’re starting to run out of stuff you can crack in front of the kids.”
Which was true. He coughed into his knuckles as she arched an amused brow at him. “Well,” he said slowly. “Kids aren’t here.”
“Bring it, Pines.”
They batted terrible jokes back and forth for nearly ten minutes as he piloted along the highway to the next destination, dipping into blacker and blacker humor as they went.
“What can a goose do, a duck can’t, and a lawyer should?”
“Stick his bill up his ass. What’s the difference between a lawyer and a rooster?”
“When a rooster wakes up in the mornin’, his primal urge is to cluck defiance! Why do they bury lawyers under twenty feet of dirt?”
“Because deep down, they’re really good people. You know the problem with lawyer jokes?”
This one was so open-ended as to give no clue at all, and Stan cocked his head at her in question.
“Lawyers don’t think they’re funny, and no one else thinks they’re jokes.”
Clary’s smile was a little wry, and he felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck. “Time for a change of subject, huh?”
“Tell me the best one you’ve got that has nothing to do with lawyers.”
“Oh ho, that’s easy.”
Once they were past the competitive call-and-response - she had definitely won that one, he’d been right on the verge of running dry, but like hell was he admitting to that - they both unspooled longer, loopier jokes, and Stan took real pleasure in coaxing a good laugh out of her. She had a nice laugh, he decided, deep and fearless, growing a little huskier as the drive wore on and she kept talking.
They cruised down one of the more remote county roads, driving nearly on autopilot until they reached the right turnoff. She was still chuckling over his last crack when he pulled over onto the shoulder and killed the engine. Clary frowned over at the tree-screened porch light up the hill. “Wow, okay, this is the middle of nowhere. More parts?”
“Not quite.” Stan drew breath, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he tried to frame what he wanted to say.
Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “Ah. Is this the morally questionable portion of tonight’s program?”
“Yeah, that’s about the size of it. Listen for a minute?”
Clary settled back, attentive, mouth smoothing into a sober line.
“So I’m a collector. I’ve got a thing. For art.” She nodded and he went on. “This jackass up here nabbed a Gustav Klouneng out from under me at auction, he’s rejected all my completely reasonable offers for the thing, and he’s been rubbin’ my nose in it for years now. Pure spite. I’m out here to, ah.” Stan held out both hands palm up, miming the balancing of scales.
“Steal it.”
“Pretty much. I’ve been waitin’ on him to leave town for months.”
She mulled it over, then nodded and cracked her door open. “All right. Show me how it’s done.”
Stan felt a corner of his mouth twitch up. “You sure? You can wait here, if you wanna.”
“I knew we’d be getting into trouble the minute you said ‘wear black’, so let’s get into some trouble.”
They both slid out of the car, Stan chuckling to himself, heading back around to the trunk. He reached in to fish out the gear they’d need, then tossed the spare set of gloves at Clary. She caught them against her chest and tugged them on, wriggling fingers in approval. “You’re pretty light-footed, so just point the light where I need it and stay close, got it?”
“Got it.”
There was no way in hell they were going to make it up to the house in complete silence and the place was unoccupied anyway, so Stan led her the long way around through underbrush to the basement door at a brisk walk. Clary accepted the heavy little black flashlight and aimed it as directed, leaning in to watch the delicate process of coaxing the lock open.
Having an audience was new, but the lock was child’s play. Stan nudged the door open and ushered her in with a flourish. She quirked him a half-impressed grin as she passed, angling the light into a dusty storage room.
“Wait ‘til you see this,” he murmured, deftly picking the lock on the next door under the light’s beam. Clary stepped in after him, silent on the thick carpet, and he cautiously flicked up the switches.
Stan had been here in person with time to look around only once, on what he thought of sourly as the ‘I’ve got all these great paintings and you don’t, sucker’ tour, but the impact was still the same. Perfect lighting, perfect framing, walls and drapery and paneling fit for a professional gallery. The owner might have been a colossal jerk but he had taste. He took a moment to soak it in with a low sigh of enjoyment, then checked on Clary.
She had an arm folded across her midsection, flashlight loose in her fingers, one hand at her chin, expression neutral save for a faint crease of the brow as her eyes flicked from painting to painting.
“Can you believe this hillbilly chump has a collection like this?”
Her head shook fractionally. “No.”
“Overwhelmed, huh. C’mon, lemme show you the one we’re here to get.” Stan chuckled to himself, padding softly down towards their objective.
Clary’s arms relaxed once she’d taken it all in and she came along after him, voice low. “I will say that these are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the best clown paintings I have ever seen. This is a very carefully curated collection.”
“One day these’ll all be mine, but this’s what we came for.” He dragged a fingertip along the edge of the carved frame, grinning up into the mournful eyes of his Klouneng, all slate blues and velvet blacks and white splashed red. “What d’you think?”
“This is the best one here,” she said without hesitation, stepping in alongside him. “Brave use of color, intelligent framing. Lovely brushwork. The shapes and lighting are pared down into something elegant and stark, which is nice, sort of playing on the underlying theme of life on the edge of the spotlight...this is an artist on a mission.” Her expression finally eased into a faint, thoughtful smile. “Though I wonder why he’s so sad.”
“Y’really do like it?”
“Not sure I’d be brave enough to hang it over my bed, but I can respect anything created with such passion.”
“Afraid of clowns?” he tossed off in her general direction as he reached up behind the canvas to find the wall anchor.
“Of course not. I’m just a sucker for landscapes.”
Stan worked quickly, coaxing the canvas out of its bulky frame and setting it delicately against the wall. Clary had wandered off to take a closer look at the rest; she’d found the closest thing to a landscape in the place, a shadowed Paris alley with a dejected mime slumped against the wall. She didn’t seem afraid, but he crept up as softly as he could and leaned in close to her ear, hands hovering a moment before seizing her shoulders.
“Boo.”
Clary made a strangled, startled noise that wasn’t quite a shout, twisted out of his grip and latched onto his forearm with a downward yank that threw him well off balance. He staggered, she jerked back, then grabbed at him for support as she teetered.
“Stanley, what the hell - “
“Cripes, lady, you tryin’ t’dump me on the floor here - “
They were still trying to disentangle themselves, Clary reddening as she finally let go of his arm and shoved free, when a soft creak from overhead made them both freeze.
Shit, thought Stan, then I know damn well he’s out of town, then time to go. Clary stared at him for a flat second of naked betrayal. They both jolted into motion, Clary flipping down the light switches with a single swipe of her palm, Stan snatching up the Klouneng.
“Who’s down there?”
Yeah, he maybe might’ve miscalculated on the ‘out of town’ bit.
“Pines, if that’s you, I swear to God I’m really gonna shoot you this time.”
The door at the top of the inside stairs slowly swung open, casting a shadow - bathrobe, slippers and a rifle, damn it all - along the wall. Clary’s eyes were saucer-wide as she edged towards the still-ajar gallery door. Stan nudged her out into the dusty basement, half stumbling in haste as he followed. As cautious steps turned into a slapping, hurried stampede downstairs, punctuated by curses, Stan set himself up and at just the right moment kicked the inside door to make hard contact with the owner’s face.
Clary’s fingers hooked into his and she dragged him up the basement steps and outside. They both bolted for the relative shelter of the woods. “Head for the car,” she hissed as they hit the treeline.
Suddenly his hand was free and she took off like a panicked gazelle, dodging shrubs, leaping over roots, waving the flashlight around and generally making an attractive nuisance of herself as she angled off roughly towards the road. She was fast. Apparently all that time on the bike had paid off. Stan bulled straight on through, crashing over a stand of huckleberry. He had the painting jammed protectively under one arm and kept half an eye on the trajectory of the light.
When the gunshot went off Stan nearly went ass-over-teakettle through another clump of underbrush. It wasn’t aimed at him, he could tell that much, but his heart was a lump of ice in his chest as he frantically scanned over in Clary’s general direction. She’d stopped – then he heard a distant hngh! of effort and saw the flashlight go up in a long arc, spinning, the beam slicing at tree trunks until a thwack and an infuriated shout of “Damn you, Pines!” indicated that she’d hit her target.
Clary got there first, silhouette matte black against the vague midnight glint of the El Diablo, diving right through the open passenger window to skid across the front seat and slap the driver’s door open. Stan shoved the painting at her, she pivoted to stash it in the back, and gravel was spitting out from under the tires before she’d even turned around again.
They whipped through a three-point turn that tapped the back bumper against a juvenile pine, setting off a rustle in the forest canopy. Stan nearly floored it all the way back to the county road. Clary was curled up at the far edge of the bench seat, both hands over her face. For a long few minutes there was nothing to listen to but the low drone of the radio and the slowly steadying rhythm of both their breathing.
“Fuck,” she finally gritted through bared teeth, and Stan had to bite his lip near to bleeding not to crack up.
“You all right over there?” By the time he dared to check over to her side of the car she’d uncoiled a little, dragging the seatbelt down and shoving the buckle home with a heavy click.
“Peachy. So, thanks, Stan, that was educational, but I must say my estimation of you as some kind of backwoods Oregon criminal mastermind has taken a total nosedive.” Clary settled back against the seat and draped an arm along the window ledge, eyes half closed. “Holy hell. Never again.”
Stan tried, but this time the laughter won out. He tossed his head back and cackled with glee. She reached across to swat at his shoulder, but her lips were pinched against a grudging smile. “You’d better really love that painting.”
“After all that I swear it’s gonna be the eternal jewel of my collection.”
There wasn’t much to say as the adrenaline slowly ebbed. Stan finally took a moment to latch his own seatbelt as he guided the car back in the general direction of town, humming absently under his breath. The minutes ticked past in companionable silence and occasional, wary checks of the rearview mirror.
Clary’s brows rose as they took the turnoff towards Gleeful’s dealership. “What, we’re not done yet? That wasn’t enough excitement for one night?”
“One last errand...this’s a little one, promise, just need to collect some odds and ends for your vintage rattletrap.”
“You be nice to that car. It was more or less in mint condition before it got intimate with your tourist trap.”
“And it’ll be nice again once we figure out the bodywork, but in the meantime the engine needs help.” Stan pulled up on the roadside forty yards or so down from the dealership, cars and mylar fringe glinting and still under the lot’s lights. He levered himself up and out, stretching muscles that twanged in protest. Clary unfolded herself from the far side and half stumbled, supporting herself on the El Diablo’s hood as she came around to join him.
“I’ve never run that hard in my life. My knees are still jelly.”
“Nice afterburners on you, kid. Nice grip, too.” Stan fished the trimmed end of his most recent cigar out of his breast pocket and raised brows at her in question as she settled against the fender; she nodded and he struck a match, taking his time to wake the tobacco up to a slow burn. Ten minutes left on this one, maybe.
“I had incentive. What’re we here for?” Clary folded arms and looked up to the star-dense sky, her dark figure limned in subtle silver and the sodium gold of the dealership lamps. Stan studied her sharp profile at the edge of his vision.
“Drive belt. Spark plugs. Other bits not worth explainin’.”
“I can pay for the parts, Stan.”
He huffed out a chuckle, angling the smoke away. “Yeah, about that. Gleeful an’ I don’t exactly get along, y’see, he’ll tell you to stuff it purely ‘cause you’re under my roof right now.”
Pfft, she went, eyes closing for a pensive moment. “Nothing else local I imagine.”
“Nope. Portland’s a full day round trip. Bud’s got a nice little assortment of older stuff back there he’s never gonna sell, we nip in, snag what you need, nip out. No one’s even gonna notice. Hour, hour and a half tops. All you’ve gotta do is kill the main power at the office. Fuse box, big switch, cake.” He tipped a thumb over at the cinderblock-and-plate-glass structure that anchored the lot, tucked inside the fence.
“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
“Been hearin’ it all my life.”
He let her think it over while he worked his way through the last bit of his cigar, smoke dissipating peacefully on the warm night air. Maybe she’d bite, maybe she wouldn’t. Eventually he ground the stub out at his feet and went around to the trunk to retrieve his kit bag. Clary followed, extending a hand, and he dropped a set of pliers into her gloved palm.
“Fine. Your turf, your people, your judgment call. I trust you.” He flinched in surprise at the phrase, covering with the low thunk of the trunk’s closure. “Prove me right.”
The urge to catch her arm and suggest the day trip to Portland instead was sudden and strong - hell, she was decent company and she’d be good for the gas - but it was already too late as she pivoted and jogged off down along the lot line, choosing a badly-lit spot near the office and scaling the fence with scrabbling feet. Less than a minute later the lights went out with a distant clunk.
Stan shouldered his tools and headed in, tamping down vague apprehension as his eyes adjusted to the faint ambient light. He didn’t bring out the spare flashlight until heavy shadow made it risky to go further. The lot was a maze of gleaming hulks, the footing treacherous on thin, irregular gravel. Clary he eventually picked out by the soft crunch of her cautious steps and an occasional ow as she bumped into one car or another, slowly homing in.
“Gonna take this up as a sideline? You got decent instincts for a glorified accountant.”
Clary snorted softly. “Not on your life. I usually deal with a different caliber of crime.”
Stan grinned to himself. “See anythin’ the same make as yours before you killed the lights?”
“There’s a Fairlane sedan at the back. Not in spectacular shape, but it looked like the right vintage.”
“That’ll work. Here y’go, lead on.” He passed off the flashlight. She kept her head and the light’s beam low, creeping along with complete focus, so serious and so careful that the urge to indulge in a cheap startle eventually became irresistible.
Stan caught up with two silent strides and reached out to clasp her low on the ribs. “Gotcha.”
She didn’t even make a sound this time, convulsing in his grip, the flashlight hitting the ground right about as her elbow caught him smack in the face. Stan tucked and hit the dirt more or less completely on reflex, half stunned - there’d been some real force behind that - and she was almost a carlength away before he could even see straight.
The dim fringe of the light gave him just enough of a read on her expression, flickering through fear to fury and finally settling on horrified contrition as he lifted a hand and found himself stemming a tidal rush of blood from his bruised nose. “Holy smokes, kid.”
“Shit.” She hustled back, dropping to her knees beside him, hands hovering uselessly as he rummaged up a handkerchief and jammed it in place to stanch the flow. “I am so sorry.” A pause. “Please never do that again.”
“Not a chance. I want to keep my head on, thanks.” Stan tipped his chin up, sniffling faintly as he waited for the broken blood vessel to calm the hell down. “Quit lookin’ at me like that, I deserved to end up flat on my ass. Nice solid hit, for a girl, with a desk job.” Budding indignation was definitely an improvement over the guilt and concern twisting her features - he didn’t much want to deal with either of those. “I really could show you how t’do somethin’ with that, y’know.”
Clary seemed reassured that he wasn’t going to die on the spot, at least, as she turned and stretched way out to retrieve the flashlight. “Only if next week is a lot more boring than this one has been. You sure you’re all right.”
He pinched his nose with the hanky, wincing as he tested the bridge, then dabbed with a clean corner which stayed clean. “Not broken. I’ve gotten worse beatings than that, believe me.”
The flicker of concern came and went again, but she kept her mouth shut and stood gracefully, extending a hand down to him. “We’d better wrap up.” Clary leaned back to counterbalance his greater weight and pulled him easily to his feet; Stan snagged the backpack and refrained from any further shenanigans as they came up on the car she’d picked out.
It wasn’t pretty - the color some kind of faded bronze that she called “Sauterne Gold” in passing disgust, chrome pitted along the bumper’s lower edge - but the hood came up quietly. The internals were mostly familiar and more importantly intact.
“Hold the flashlight steady for me an’ keep an eye out.” Stan unzipped his pack, the sound muffled by a liberal coating of beeswax on the teeth, and reached in to feel for the right tools in their flannel wraps. Clary bent for a fleeting moment to squint in and hummed in amusement as she straightened up.
“Pink bunnies?”
“Old PJs of Mabel’s, cut me some slack already. Pliers?” She passed them over, propped her elbow to keep the light roughly aligned, and kept her attention on the road while he set to work. Nothing too complicated. The drive belt was the worst of it, the spark plugs were easy. Clary glanced down at him every now and then as he became absorbed in the process.
He had dumped the tools and miscellaneous bits into the pack and was softly latching the hood when the light cut out and she hissed a warning, dropping into the shelter of the fender as a distant, watery beam raked the lot.
And, inevitably, zeroed in on him. “Hey, what’s going on over there? That you, Bud?”
Blubs. “Pete’s sake,” he spat under his breath, and nudged the backpack with one foot towards Clary’s hiding spot. “Zip that, run for it, toss it over the fence.” Her hand darted out to catch a strap as he half turned. “Uh, yeah?”
“Pines? What the heck happened to your face? And what’re you doin’ here at - Hey, are you stealing parts again?”
“....No?” Clary was inching away deeper into the shadows of the lot. He couldn’t even make her out, but started strolling towards Blubs to cover up the faint crunch of her steps, hands turned out and empty. “You know we got a guest with a busted car, right? Bud an’ I still aren’t speakin’ politely, so I’m here lookin’ for somethin’ trustworthy she can use ‘til she’s fixed.”
“After one in the morning?” Blubs was one to talk; Stan could make out the perpetual sunglasses over the regulation flashlight’s beam.
“D’you really want me crossin’ paths with Bud again?” Somewhere behind him there was a distant rustle of branches, good, then Durland’s voice, far enough off to sound tinny.
“Hey! Where you going, burglar? Yer under arrest - for burglary!”
There was a scuffle, and a sharp, high yelp like a rabbit snatched by an ambitious owl. “Hey!” Stan spun on one heel, and made it about three lengthening steps in the right direction before Blubs full-out tackled him by the knees. One of the car alarms went off, squeep squeep squeep, as he crashed into a door on the way down. “Ah, c’mon, Blubs, I saved the town from an interdimensional demon, gimme a break!”
“Sorry, Stan, we got a job to do.”
Durland herded Clary past him, her back straight, wrists cuffed, expressionless. She caught his eyes for the barest moment - she was pale, a smudge on her cheek, but seemed to be in one piece. Stan let Blubs slap the cuffs on him with an internal groan of resignation. They made a sad little parade out towards the street, the sheriff and his deputy arguing quietly.
“....aw, shoot, Durland, we don’t have the cruiser. Me and my ideas for romantic midnight strolls!”
“Well, why don’t we just commander Stan’s car?”
“Do you mean commandeer?”
“I dunno!”
“Edwin Durland, you are an absolute delight, and I cherish having you as my life partner.”
At least someone was having a good night. Blubs rummaged the car keys out of Stan’s pocket and stuffed him in behind the driver’s seat. Clary ended up on the passenger side, wedged in next to the box of pelts and bones. The Klouneng stayed precariously jammed between his knee and hers. Stan gritted his teeth as Blubs fiddled with the seat back and finally got the El Diablo going.
She stared out into the night the whole way. He could all but hear the mental gears spinning over there and was loathe to interrupt, but finally spoke up, quiet. “You okay, Clary?”
“I’m fine, Stan.” It was the first unambiguous lie she’d told him, smooth as glass. Stan left it at that, letting his temple rest against the window’s chilly surface while he tried to figure a way out of this one.
The station was a bit of a blur as he trudged in, head down, watching Clary’s feet ahead of him. They ended up uncuffed and unceremoniously dumped in one of the cells together. The door closed with a familiar, heavy clang. “You two better get comfortable. We’ll get your prints in the morning.” Blubs really did do a decent job of being intimidating when you didn’t know him.
Stan flopped onto one of the cots. Clary folded her arms, settling against the wall near the bars, angling herself so that she had half a bead on Durland and Blubs talking at the end of the hall. “How do we get out of here?” she whispered after a minute or two.
“Don’t think we can, kid.” Stan settled back onto the thin mattress with a sigh, propping up a knee. “I think I can convince ‘em that you got hypnotized into comin’ along with me or somethin’. Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they’ve heard this year or hell even this summer.”
Her mouth twitched faintly. “I knew what I was getting into.”
“I don’t have to tell you that you don’t wanna get in trouble with the law. This isn’t my first night in jail, not by a long shot.” He rolled his head a little, the better to catch her eye. “I’ve been in an’ out of this one so many times the cot’s got a dent to fit my butt.” No laugh, but at least she ducked her head to hide the ghost of a smile. “I’ve done time in worse places than this. Whatever they come up with to throw at me, this’s a cakewalk.”
Her fingers were tapping a soft rhythm against her sleeve. “And if we can get past the lock?”
“Then we slip out a window and they forget this ever happened, most likely.”
Clary’s features went carefully neutral as she fished something out of her back pocket, then leaned against the bars, hands hanging just through. “Excuse me, fellas?” Her voice smoothed out into a warm dark-caramel register that wouldn’t do a damned thing for the sheriff or the deputy but struck a pleasant thrum in Stan’s chest. “You dropped your car keys.”
Durland wandered back after a minute, squinting. “Where’d you get my keepsake key fob? I’ve been lookin’ for that.”
“Sorry, sir, I didn’t even realize I’d picked it up. Thought they were my keys in the dark.”
“Thank you kindly, miss.” She handed the fob off to the deputy, endured a long, scrutinizing stare, then settled back against the wall. Stan stared at the ceiling and listened to the slow retreat of Durland’s feet, settling in for an uncomfortable night.
“Hsst.”
“What.”
He could practically hear her eyes rolling. “Hst,” again, softer, and he turned his head to look over. Clary had one palm tilted towards him, a glint carefully contained by silencing fingers - the cell keys, how the fuck - expression equal measures smug and profoundly ashamed. Her hands were shaking.
Stan bounced upright in pure shock, feet hitting the floor with a thud. He slapped a hand over his mouth in time to muffle an involuntary laugh. “Holy - you sure you don’t have experience with this kinda thing?”
“Shh,” Clary hissed. She pressed her brow to the bars for a better angle on the hallway, both hands cradling the keys as though they’d evaporate any second. Her trembling fingers set off tiny clinks as she tried them in succession until one finally clicked. The bolt slid back with a faint thunk that made both of them flinch. Stan hovered at her side as she pulled one shuddering breath, two, then carefully, carefully opened the door.
They slipped out into the hall and crept down to the station office. Blubs snored peacefully, sprawled across the front desk. Clary leaned over and pulled a neat little switch, plucking up the Stanleymobile keys and leaving the cell keys in their place.
“Hold on,” Stan whispered as she inched towards the outside door. She held in place and watched in outraged astonishment as he sidestepped into what passed for the evidence room, then reemerged with the precious Klouneng tucked under one arm.
The El Diablo was right out front. Stan matter-of-factly unlocked the passenger side, opened it for Clary, handed her the painting - she pivoted and stashed it in the back again - then slid into his own seat, adjusted it to the proper position, and pulled out smoothly down the road.
Both of them were all but holding their breath for the better part of ten minutes. Flashing lights and sirens failed to materialize behind them.
“You know where the pack went down?”
“Yes. I counted fenceposts.”
“Let’s grab that, then, don’t know how we can get into more trouble tonight.”
Clary knocked on the dashboard in lieu of anything actually wooden. “Please don’t tempt fate any further.”
Stan pulled into the former Tent of Telepathy lot next to Gleeful’s and angled the headlamps in the general direction Clary indicated, since they were officially out of flashlights. She hopped out and delved into the underbrush. His fingertips were drumming impatiently on the steering wheel’s edge by the time she reemerged, pack slung over one shoulder.
He picked a circuitous route out of town for no real reason other than his own peace of mind.
Clary tucked herself against the passenger door, arms defensively folded. Her expression gradually wound tighter and tighter into a frown. “You know, he got it wrong, that wasn’t even burglary. At least he didn’t know we’d already done that bit.”
“Pffft.” It wasn’t even that funny, but all the same Stan propped his head in one hand, fingers splayed so he could see, and started to laugh quietly. She joined him after a few moments. There was a hysterical edge to her staccato giggles but it was better than dead silence.
“I cannot believe I did that.”
“Oh, you did, kid. Pretty professional too.” It was damned near three in the morning and exhaustion weighed down his limbs. The drive home was mercifully uneventful, the Shack dark and silent under a moonless sky. He scooped up the painting and she collected the backpack from where she’d dumped it in the footwell. Stan didn’t bother to flick on any lights until they made it to the kitchen, feet dragging, and they both had to squeeze dark-adapted eyes shut against the sudden glare of the overhead lamp.
Stan propped the Klouneng up on the table and sank heavily into a kitchen chair. Clary paced the floor, hands to hips, the mental gears spinning again. "That was a wild night. Let's see. Breaking and entering, burglary, trespassing, petty larceny, escaping custody. How much do Klounengs go for?" Stan winced; she blinked, lips parting in dismay, and burst into a fresh round of low incredulous laughter. "Grand larceny."
"He's not gonna report anythin'," Stan said, a little wounded. "Half of what he has on the walls down there is already stolen. There's, ah, kind of a runnin' rivalry among collectors of these things."
"Lost any of yours?" She padded over to the sink, turning the tap and waiting on the water to warm up.
"Hell, no, I have mine better hidden than that. None of ‘em are dumb enough to mess with the Shack."
"So that leaves a couple hundred in car parts, and we didn't leave any real traces there. Except, you know, being in physical custody for under an hour. They didn't even book us." Clary drew a long breath through her cupped hands, then let it go slowly. "Screw it," she murmured. "We got out alive. The rest is just details."
She tucked her gloves into a back pocket and scrubbed both hands and face while Stan glared at his interlaced fingers and stewed. This night had not gone as planned and really, none of that was on her.
“Want a drink?” Clary reached up into a cupboard.
“Water, sure.” She set a glass in front of him, then paused to study him carefully before pacing back to the sink. “You did good, y’know. Nerves of steel for a rookie.”
“Baltimore being Baltimore, you develop those nerves or you move someplace a lot more peaceful.” Clary returned with a damp paper towel and an air of quiet determination. “Your face is still kind of a mess. Hold still a moment, let me clean you up and then I’ll get an ice pack.”
“Don’t need ice, I can take a couple aspirin - “ She tilted her head at him a little, brows rising, and Stan heaved a resigned sigh.
Clary rested a cool palm along his jaw and tipped him up until he was looking into her eyes. She wasn’t looking into his. Instead her focus was tight and worried as she swabbed along his upper lip. “Cannot believe I tagged you this hard. I am so damned sorry.” Tiny corkscrew tendrils of her hair escaped the bandana, ash brown washed out to silvered threads by the light bulb’s corona. “You sure you feel all right?”
“’m fine.” There was a flush rising along his neck and it wasn’t embarrassment this time. Stan couldn’t tear his gaze away. He’d seen that shade of grey in her troubled eyes before, somewhere. Maybe in the glint of a tern’s wing or the glimmer of the sea at the edge of dawn. “Like I said, I deserved that one.”
"I hit you, Stan, that is not okay." With one last pass of the paper towel along the edge of his lower lip she stepped back to survey her handiwork. The grey eyes flicked up to meet his, and she seemed at last to realize how close she’d been as she withdrew. “You don’t deserve that. Just - no more grabbing me from behind, clear?”
“Crystal.”
She wrapped a familiar bag of frozen peas in a dishtowel and handed it off. A moment’s rifling through a drawer turned up a bottle of ibuprofen, which she opened and set on the table. “Anything else before I go collapse? You guys are wearing me out so completely that I’m sleeping better than I have in years.”
“Why’d you come along?”
He hadn’t meant to ask that - it slipped out unbidden. Stan pressed the improvised icepack to his forehead, peering out at her from under daisy-patterned terrycloth. She looked as surprised as he felt. “I mean - you knew it’d be trouble.”
“I made a promise,” Clary said after a wary pause, “that I’d take some real chances this year. Stick my neck out for other people.”
“How’s that workin’ out for you so far?”
A tiny smile warmed her weary features. “Mixed bag. Right now, from where I’m standing, I think things might be looking up.” Her palm pressed his shoulder in brief reassurance. “Good night, Stan.”
“G’night, Clary.” She shot him a last oblique glance as she headed out into the hall.
Stan washed down three ibuprofen with water, settled back in the chair and let his eyes slip half closed for a thoughtful while, listening to the distant song of crickets.
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She hovers uselessly at your side, wide eyes flicking between your bleeding nose and the backpack you dropped. “I am so sorry.”
Want to learn how to really hit?
Play for sympathy.
Get indignant.
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Yugioh S2 Ep 42 : Hello, Darkness, my Old and Also Relatively New Teenage Shadow Magic Friend
Recently, on Yugioh, we asked ourselves, (well, I asked myself since I assume most of you have seen this show before) how does it matter at all if you lose your memories of someone for like, ten minutes, when you will obviously have to run into them again once the duel is over? And if you have lost the memories that they ever existed then what would it matter since you would not know that you had known them?
This is how - They become shadow people and you literally can’t see them anymore for what I assume is the rest of your life. I don’t know how that works since they can still like write things down on pieces of paper or I dunno, communicate entirely through texting like most kids do who haven’t been cursed with eternal invisibility.
But don’t think too much about the logic, because people can now be erased from your life via cards, AKA Yugioh is gonna throw us another heavy handed take on depression, get ready. And honestly, it’s not a bad take. Good on Yugioh for this fairly accurate metaphor of what sadness can feel like. Like, sometimes people feel like their friends don't like them anymore, although they may be surrounded by people the entire time who are rooting for them and want to help them, but they just can’t see them. I think every person in the world has been through that at some point. You don’t often see it addressed in a kid’s show, although it really should be, because it happens so often.
Probably shouldn’t have started out with Tea for this example though. Like for reals, when have Mai and Tea ever hung out? That one time Mai told Tea to take a shower because she smelled like a boy? Or...
...That’s it. That’s the last conversation I remember these two having one-on-one. Most of the time Mai has been on screen is with Yugi and Joey instead. Mai and Tea shared a tent once. That’s it.
Lolmao I can’t believe Mime came back.
So now, canonically, BDSM Mime got stranded somewhere in Japan and now Marik doesn’t have any memories to even go and pick him up. He’s just forever trapped in this country now like Shenmue.
(read more)
Mai seems to remember that she used to know someone, so it’s more of like you get the feeling of losing a friend. Like basically every time you lose a monster you feel like you broke up with someone, but you can’t remember who. I can’t really relate to that feeling, but I’m sure this has happened to Mai at least once or twice for reals before this tournament. This is the girl who forgot she set herself up to get engaged.
Again, if you just thought it through for like 3 seconds, you’d have enough evidence to say “Yeah but this is all in my mind, I am standing in weird ass purple fog” but that’s the Shadow Realm.
After Tea’s memory is dissolved, next comes the threat of losing the memories of Joey Wheeler, AKA the vague love interest that she was very mad at up until about 5 seconds ago.
Also please admire how far the storyboarder went out of their way to avoid looking up Mai’s skirt. Straight up, they did not even bother to try and cover up those panty upskirts in Sailor Moon, but the storyboarder for Yugioh was so extra that they said “Hell with it, I’m gonna try” and so Mai’s legs are like double jointed and sprawled in the weirdest ways sometimes to cover that crack.
I mean, it’s still a pinup--there’s no way around this character design--but I really think they were trying to not go too far, but then ended up making it kind of worse sometimes. It’s just what happens when you have a love affair a lot of extreme low angle shots but none of your girls wear pants because it’s 2001 and everyone’s wearing tube tops and minis.
Which was a thing. I’ll admit it, I lived through it, 2001 was kind of a slutty time, it was the era of the glittery backless diamond shaped halter top. Which, while time has tried to forget, I will never forget the 20 minutes I spent in a dressing room trying to figure out how to put on a backless diamond shaped halter top only to realize that I was putting it on sideways.
Now, stepping away from confusing 00′s fashion and back to the show. Mai losing these pile of kids might mean more to me if Mai had been hanging out with them this whole time, but it really does feel like they’re closer to Duke Devlin than they are to Mai Valentine, because Duke at least shared a school with them so I can assume that in the past they’ve passed each other in the hallway or talked on occasion. But, Mai is an adult who never comes in contact outside of cards, and when she does, she only ever pushes them away.
It’s especially that-Yugioh-brand-of-tragic because in the mind of all of the characters on this show, we’ve just kind of assumed Mai has had a life and friendships outside of these couple of kids. But this episode we realize there’s just...no one else but the people she sees at these rare tourneys. As we see here in this flashback to her childhood, in the most anime PJ’s ever drawn.
Why does every flashback look like everyone's straight out the American Girl Doll collection? Like Pegasus and Cecilia were in turn of the century clothes. the Kaibas were dressed like little newsies when they were orphans, little Mai looks like she owns a horse in matching ribbons.
And as it turns out, do you know the reason why Mai hates friendship? You’ll never guess--her Parents. Ah, Neglectful Parents, strikes again, that old Yugioh chestnut. It’s like I’m watching Once Upon a Time again. At least these neglectful parents didn’t lock her up underground and tattoo her eyes. Instead, these ones just worked a lot and she got kinda lonely.
Are there any good parents on this show? I assume if anyone’s parents are good we just never see them, right? Is that why we never see Mr Muto?
Anyway, Mai moved around a lot, her parents were always busy, and it rained like constantly--so Mai decided to get a job on a cruise line, where she became a card shark. And also where she randomly got engaged and then forgot.
I don't remember her tent looking like that but I’ll allow it.
You could have chosen any friends out there Mai, traveling the world on a cruise line, doing cards all over the planet, and you chose these guys? The ones with multiple curses? Like you nabbed both Yugi and Bakura in one go? Congrats!
Anyway she very quickly forgets Joey so Rip MaixJoey that was a good one and half episodes, surely the longest relationship on Yugioh!
So, Yugi decides to activate the millennium item chatroom, where apparently he could just butt into whoever is getting cursed at the moment. And mind you, he could just solve the duel but like, there is a card game going on, and although it’s super duper cursed, we gotta make it fair. Yugi’s just here to give some good advice and then bounce.
No laser fights today. He still isn’t aware he can do that.
freakin love this blue yellow color combo PS.
So something that I do like about this, is that the real threat here in these Shadow Duels is not the duel really--it’s to Mai’s relationships more than injury Mai herself. Yes, she does die if she loses, but the more she loses, the more she loses people in her life, even if she wins. The loss of the people is more scary to her more than the fear of dying.
And this hearkens back to the first time we dealt with the Shadow Realm with Yugi and his Grandfather. Yugi was over that duel in about 15 minutes or whatever the time limit was, and after the initial shock he brushed himself off and may have appeared fully recovered, but it took him almost an entire season to get his Grandpa back in his life.
So if you look at these curses as akin to getting an illness, when you lose a relationship because of illness, that can be a pretty terrible symptom that you don’t really see coming. Happens a whole lot though. In Mai’s case, if she does lose, she also loses the opportunity to repair what she’s lost, which is probably the greatest fear of someone who may be going through A Time.
Like honestly, the Mai duel is *kind of a downer* and I was just talking to my Bro about how of all the shadow duels so far, this is the one that is most clearly “I’m just going to fight you with straight up depression” and how apparently Marik is just so far into his own downward spiral that he no longer cares about who he drags down with him. He’s just given up trying to be better at this point. Like his only ‘friend’ left is BDSM Mime clown. That’s a pretty intense rock bottom, honestly.
But on a positive note, what Yugi points out to Mai is “You’re in this now, but we will get you out of it, no matter what he curses you to believe.” and of anyone here, Yugi’s the only one that can actually reach out and speak to her because he’s the only one who has been through it before and thus knows how it works.
Being cursed with heavy handed illness imagery AKA Shadow Magic does have that perk. You can help out the similarly cursed. Even though he could have probably launched at least a couple fireballs at the problem to help her out also.
Holy hell they actually edited out all the little details on this duel disk here. Good on you, animators. Good on you. I’m glad someone did it. Hope that saved at least one of you from carpal tunnel, you poor overworked animators that had to draw every line on these crazy complicated character designs.
So Mai, spurned onward by the ghostly voices of her forgotten friends figures out how to steal Marik’s God Card.
Again, everyone on this show is obsessed with these awful cards and they feel like they must play them to win when honestly--look how much this card sucks.
If this God Card ends up killing her it’ll only prove my point that all these cards are just fundamentally hella bad.
Same with Odion, he could’ve won just fine without playing a God Card but leave it to these dummies to just go crazy with the one of three cards that has been prophecies to kill them. Like, when Odysseus gives you a bag of wind, just don’t open the bag. That easy.
Anyway, tune in next week to see if Mai ends up blown overboard like the servants of Odysseus, or if she ends up devoured by a giant creature also like the servants of Odysseus. Or if she ends up dating Joey Wheeler. That part didn’t happen in the Odyssey, but I’ve read enough people comparing fanfic to Homer that I guess you could make it happen if you really wanted to.
Link to read these recaps from S1 Ep1
#yugioh#yugioh recap#photo recap#recap#s2 ep 42#tw depression#mai valentine#yugi muto#marik ishtar#joey wheeler#tea gardner#seto kaiba#this dumb ass god card#So we got a Mai Flashback where we found out that she's got like no backstory#her backstory is that she's depressed she has no backstory#like all that was there was living on a boat for a couple years#that's it
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Key to Her Heart Chapter 2/52: Children’s Games
And here we go, the second chapter! I know the Slayerfest would have probably been a better episode to do this prompt with, but I don’t really have access to the episode since I’m on a cruise ship with no internet right as I’m writing this, so I figured I’d go with the next episode in season two.
Cause I love me some season two. Wonder why?
This was hell to write. Frankly, there’s about 200 words missing from this chapter, mostly because of the 2000 word limit. I was gonna have Faith finally show up in all her Single-Slayer glory, there was an entire conversation Buffy has with Spike about Ford and their friendship, there was a lovely torture scene where Spike’s feelings for Buffy start to come through, there’s an entire sub-plot with Buffy’s Mom and her gallery.
None of which I got to touch. So I’ve decided, since I have the extra time on my hands, I’ll start writing shoot-offs of the series. Things that have nothing to do with the Prompts as I’m writing them, but will definitely flush out the over-all story.
The prompt this time was: The most dangerous game.
Again, Slayerfest would have been perfect, but I barely remember the episode. I’ll have to start re-watching when I get home.
Buffy wasn’t sure if she wanted to be flattered by Spike’s defense of her supposedly sullied honor or still horrified that his response to her assault had been to slaughter an entire frat house in her and her friends’ names.
Being fair, they were sacrificing teenage girls to a giant snake demon, so she wasn’t exactly upset that they were dead, but a voice sounding incredibly like her mother insisted that murder was still a very wrong thing and wasn’t to be encouraged.
Either way, Buffy had some serious thinking to do, which she figured was best done at the Bronze with bestie back up.
“Well,” Xander said, “I’ve given my opinion on the guys, so . . .”
Willow and Buffy both sighed. “‘Fuck ‘em,’” they quoted. It had been his mantra all night. Sure, he’d been the first on the Let’s-Stake-Spike train right along with Giles when he’d first heard, but the second his actual intentions had been revealed, they suddenly changed their tones.
“Extenuating circumstances,” Giles had called it, while cleaning his glasses for the fifteenth time that conversation.
“Well, someone got a potty-mouth while I was gone!” a strained voice called, bringing Buffy’s attention around to the familiar figure behind her.
“FORD!” She yelled out, not seeing the grin on his face.
Spike couldn’t believe his fucking luck! He knew that Faith was a royal bitch to everyone (Buffy had complained about it plenty of times for him to get the picture), but to have a childhood friend turn her over to a Master Vampire to save his own skin? Spike had originally had his doubts when some posh human came and offered him the slayer on a silver platter in exchange for immortality. Had he not been able to smell the sick and medicine on the kid, he would have smelled a trap instead. Kid was dying and desperate, and Spike was just the kind of bad, rude man to take advantage
He would kill Faith, Dru would be able to drink her dry, then . . .
Then they would leave. Just like he wanted three months ago. His Dark Princess all healed up, they’d paint the town red before moving onto the next. This was, literally, the sole reason he came to this ruddy town.
Not why we stay, his demon whispered. Never before had he felt so strongly the urge to physically kick the damn thing. Yes, he knew bloody well that wasn’t why he stayed, or why the idea of leaving left him feeling more bereft than before, but it was completely and utterly a non-issue.
Before he could remind himself all the reasons why it was a non-issue, a hand came across his face, scratching as it went.
Ah, Dru was in that kind of a mood today then.
“Stop all that glowing,” she demanded. “You’ll burn up my daisies!”
Spike sighed heavily, drawing on a full century of loving Dru through all these fits to keep his temper. “Dru, Princess, ‘m not glowin‘.” He calmly took both of her hands into his own, holding them firmly so she couldn’t attack him again.
“You are!” she insisted, struggling in his grip. Normally, she could have broken it by now, but that mob had really done a number on her. “You glow with her! I’ll not burn up with you! No sunshine for Daddy’s princess!”
Spike was in game face in an instant. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, that’s all he sodding heard about. Every damn night his Dark Princess insisted on bringing up her wretched sire, asking after him, commenting on whatever he was doing, all of it. Frankly he was fucking sick of it at this point.
“A hundred,” he growled at her, shaking her in his grip. “A hundred fucking years, I’ve stood by you. When Darla left cause she couldn’t put up with your fits, when he left because of that fucking soul, I stayed and took care of you, loved you through every sodding demon you opened your legs for. Kept you safe and happy, and stayed. Never strayed a once. So whatever Miss Edith told you, get it out of your head now.”
As he panted with unnecessary breath, he saw tears well up in her eyes. Immediately, he felt like a pillock. He knew it wasn’t Dru’s fault. Between the visions and the regular bouts of insanity, the poor girl couldn’t tell up from down half the time. It had been decades since he’d lost his temper with her.
“Princess,” he whispered, moving to bring her into his arms. “Princess I-”
“Princess wants her Daddy!” she wailed, crumbling to the floor.
And, for the first time in a hundred and eight years, Spike let her and walked out of the room.
He had a Slayer to kill.
“Let’s go people-watching,” Ford suddenly said, drawing Buffy out of her Algebra-induced state. Something she was grateful for because, frankly, she was getting sick of those trains. However, when his words registered, she gave him a sarcastic look, raising her eye brow at him in what looked like a very Spike-ish expression. “Come on,” he needled, sitting up straight on her couch. “It’ll be just like old times! You used to love playing ‘Story Time’.”
Buffy shuddered at the name. “Yeah, until we made that amazing love story.” Buffy didn’t have to finish the rest. It had been her favorite story by far, full of drama, romance, and perhaps a hidden connection to the Dutch throne (did the Dutch even have a monarchy? It wasn’t something she’d considered when she was ten) rivaling any she’d come up with before. All of which had come crashing down when she’d caught the morning news and discovered the guy was actually a serial killer and the woman his latest victim.
Story Time stopped being fun after that. These were actual lives. Sure, it was fun to joke that the old man feeding the pigeons was a retired CIA spy who had a Bond Girl retiree waiting for him at home, but for all Buffy knew he was a widower trying to make it day by day.
“I don’t know Ford,” Buffy finally said. “It’s just not a fun game anymore. Besides, it’s gonna be dark soon.”
Ford shook his head. “Look, I know this club, it’s just full of a bunch of teenagers. It’s, like, ten minutes from here. No big deal.” He smiled at her, exuding confidence and almost jittering with energy. “Come on. For me?”
Buffy sighed. “We’re back by nine though,” she caved. “I’ve totally got to actually finish this Algebra homework or Ms. Jefferson’s gonna eat my soul or something. She wasn’t very clear.”
Buffy already wanted to leave, and they hadn’t even spoken to anyone.
A vampire club. Ford had taken her to a fucking vampire club, and she was pissed.
Sure, she knew these kinds of places existed. There were a few in LA. Hell, there was a ball held there every now and then. She’d thought it sounded glamourous when she’d first heard of it in high school. The pictures she saw in one of the goth kid’s lockers showed big ball gowns and costumes everywhere. She’d even thought about going to one once. If only for an excuse to dress up.
Then she found out that A.) Vampires and demons were real and they were far from glamorous, B.) She might be one of them, and C.) Some of the people at those things took the whole thing way too seriously.
She wanted to tell Ford that moment that she was going home. Fuck the game, fuck this club, and, a tiny bit, fuck Ford, but she couldn’t bring herself to do or say it. He was still her friend and, frankly, she wasn’t comfortable leaving him wandering Sunnydale by himself at night.
“Let’s pick,” Ford said, his tone an odd one that Buffy couldn’t quite place. She looked over and saw a smirk across his face, but it wasn’t mischievous or knowing. It was frightening. It reminded Buffy strongly of her night at the frat, and she found herself moving away from him carefully, gently reminding herself that she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in hours, so nothing was in her system.
While Buffy was focusing on her breathing, Ford seemed to find what he was looking for. “Oh, how about them!” He pointed below them. “Those two probably aren’t going to murder each other tonight.”
Buffy wanted to scold him. The game wasn’t fun or entertaining, and what had happened to that poor girl wasn’t something he should be making fun of. However, her eyes drifted to who he was pointing to, and her throat closed.
Spike. Spike was here with Drusilla.
And apparently this Vampire Bar had a few more actual vampires than Buffy had originally thought.
“Ford,” Buffy said, “I’m leaving. Let’s go.”
Ford shook his head. “What? You don’t like my new friend?”
Buffy’s eyes widened. “Friend? Since when do you even know Spike?” Before Ford could answer, she was shaking her head. “You know what? No. Doesn’t even matter. So low on the mattering scale I can’t even see it. We need to leave. Now.”
Buffy knew how Spike was. If he was there with Drusilla, they were planning on feeding. Buffy couldn’t protect everyone.
Ford seemed to hesitate but nodded. “Alright. We’ll go out the back way, so he doesn’t see us.”
And Buffy was so thankful he hadn’t argued with her, she didn’t even think of how bad an idea that was.
Spike was mere seconds away from ripping the little wannabe behind him apart with his teeth when one of his men signaled him. Ford had actually managed to get the slayer into the alley. Bloody hell, he certainly owed the kid.
Moving quickly, he left Drusilla behind. She hadn’t spoken to him since the incident that morning, but Spike frankly couldn’t bring himself to care.
Stepping outside with a grin, he started swaggering towards the two figures, curious why he didn’t smell Slayer. Taking a deep breath, Spike scented the medicine and sick from the boy, the beer and vomit from the alley, and finally, a familiar vanilla and steel.
Buffy.
He must have said her name aloud, because the two turned and looked at him, a smile on the boy’s lips and terror on hers. “Spike,” Buffy hedged, putting herself between him and the boy. The lying little shit. “Spike, please. He’s my old friend, just leave him alone, please.”
Suddenly, it all fell into place. The shit hadn’t lied. Not to him at least. He was just a sodding fool. A sodding fool who hadn’t tried to sell him Faith, but Buffy.
“Buffy,” he said firmly. “Go home, lock your doors, and make sure your mum’s all tucked in.” He stalked towards Ford.
“Spike please no. I don’t know what he said—”
She was cut off when Spike grabbed Ford by his throat. “He sold you to me Buffy,” Spike growled through his fangs. “Swore your blood to me in exchanged for being turned.”
Kill the demon demanded. He was inclined to agree.
“We- We had a deal!” Ford gasped, clawing at Spike’s hands futilely.
“Not anymore,” Spike declared.
The next night, Buffy was sitting next to Ford’s grave, a stake clutched in her hands and tears in her eyes. “I’m not talking to you,” she said, not even bothering to look at Spike as he approached from behind. “You had no right to have your minions haul me off while you—” she cut herself off with a choked sob.
Spike sat next to her, gently taking the stake from her hands. “I didn’t turn him,” he assured her, “But I wasn’t letting you stay for what happened.”
Buffy wanted to be furious with him. To hit and scream until her heart stopped hurting.
Instead, she just sat next to her friend’s killer and cried on his shoulders.
#spuffy#Fanfiction challenge#52 prompt challenge#Buffy The Vampire Slayer#buffy#spike#ep 2x07#lie to me
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for the prompt thing: 5 for rook & any seed boy?
I’ve sort of done this prompt for every Seed boy at this point so have all the Seed boys.
This is...a change. A big change. Like a “consider what sort of life choices led to this moment being a thing” kind of change. Rook didn’t know where he’d wake up after the capture party descended on him the second he left Dutch’s island. He was on the Henbane, in a boat, cruising along looking at the map and then he was falling over--thankfully not into the water--and the familiar hazy sheen of Bliss was across his vision.
What he did not expect, full stop and exclamation points for emphasis, was to wake up in a chair. Unbound and unharmed, though missing all of his weapons--and his shoes for some strange reason. Waking up in a chair isn’t really anything new for him, except this chair is at a table and the table is filled with the Seeds.
Well, most of the Seeds. Faith is suspiciously absent and Rook is almost cautiously thankful he won’t have to deal with any more Bliss.
There’s a feast on the table in front of him, still steaming hot, and Rook stares dumbly at it before his eyes flick up. To Jacob first, then Joseph, and then John. Unintentional tracking of the birth order. Arranging and addressing the most concerning threats.
None of them look particularly agitated or wound up, relaxed back in their own chairs. They’re all fully dressed, same as Rook, if a bit scrubbed up. Jacob’s missing the normal smears of oil across his forearms and Joseph is wearing a button down instead of bare flesh on his top. John looks the same because John always looks like he’s a lawyer relaxing on the weekends.
“Uh….I have a couple questions.”
“I’m sure,” Joseph says as Jacob lets out something very close to a chuckle. “But they can be answered while we eat. We timed it so the food would still be warm for you when you awoke. It seems wasteful to let it go cold while we sit and chat.”
Rook sits in stunned silence while his plate is helpfully filled for him. Nobody asks him what he wants or if he has any aversion to anything, not that he expected they might. Jacob slides a huge hunk of meat onto the ceramic, John piling on roasted potatoes as Joseph fills his glass with what looks like tea. They don’t stop until Rook’s plate is nearly overflowing, a little bit of everything on it, before serving themselves.
Fucking weird. As if this whole thing isn’t strange enough.
“Grace?” John offers, Joseph smiling benignly and nodding.
Rook doesn’t get a chance to protest before his hands are seized by Jacob and John, palms pressed tightly together as they bow their heads. Rook follows along, partly because he was raised to be respectful and mostly because he’s still a bit shell-shocked.
“Our most Blessed Father, we come before you today as a family to offer our thanks. To praise your kindness for giving us the missing piece we have all longed for. We ask that you bless this meal and it’s partakers, that you shield us from sin, and deliver us from those who would cause us or the Project harm. We ask that you bless Rook, that you guide him with your all-knowing wisdom into the light and keep him from those that would pull him into the dark. Lord above, we beg to be delivered unto Eden whole, as the family you have commanded us to be. Amen.”
“Amen,” Rook echoes dumbly, letting go of Jacob and John’s hands as soon as they let them, eyes locked on the way Joseph smiles warmly at him once his head rises.
“Eat.”
Rook obediently stuffs a forkful in his mouth, chewing as fast as he can. He knows he won’t get a single question answered until he’s obeyed. The food tastes amazing, seasoned well and perfectly complementary, and fresh. It doesn’t taste like there’s anything but the natural ingredients in it.
Rook didn’t really think they’d drug him but at this point everything he thought was true is getting a bit muddled.
“Why am I here?”
“Your friends,” Joseph bites through the word, a flash of his teeth, “have been rather persistent as of late. Intervening in our attempts to bring you into the fold. None of us have been able to even contact you in the last week and it has...upset us all. Greatly.”
There’s something in Joseph’s voice, something a bit too vicious, too accusatory. Rook doesn’t like it and buys time by shoving another mouthful in, like it will suddenly disappear over time. John nudges his glass a little closer and Rook complies, swallowing deeply, licking over his top lip once he sets it back down.
“They don’t really want me to be in the cult.”
“The Project,” Joseph corrects gently. “And we are well aware. We are not pleased to have so many protecting the single thing we want, nor are any of us comforted by how...viciously they protect you. As if they see you as more than a friend.”
Rook ignores Jacob’s muttered “especially that fuckin’ Boshaw” to gape at Joseph, eyes darting around once more.
“Wait a minute. Are you--” He swings his finger around, indicating all the brothers. “Are you all jealous?”
“Fair term for it.” John argues when Jacob snorts, Joseph’s face a placid mask that reveals nothing. “He’s not precisely wrong.”
“You will be a part of our Family. You will see that we are not what they have told you that we are.” Joseph waves his hands wide. “See? We have done nothing to harm you. We have raised no hand against you. We have taken you in and fed you and caused no anguish in doing so.”
It’s true. Save for his missing boots and weapons, the Seed brother’s haven’t taken anything from him. They haven’t hurt him, Rook doesn’t feel any new wounds on his body save for the slightly aching thigh where the Bliss bullet must have sunk in. And they all seem to be glancing at his plate to make sure it doesn’t go empty as he picks away at it.
It’s...nice. Nice but still way too fucking strange.
“I don’t know how to...they’re my friends. They’re gonna care about me.”
“S’that all they are?” Jacob asks, forearms on the table, one hand clenched just a bit too tight around the handle of his knife.
Rook lets out a slightly manic laugh, “is that what all this is about? You think I’m fucking one of them and the whole reason I won’t join you is because I’d lose out on some good rolls in the sheets?”
They all nod in unison, like someone pulled the puppet strings all at once. Rook bites down on any more manic laughter that might come out, picking up his glass and drinking deeply, wishing it was something with a little more bite. He has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to say right now or do. He’s not having sex with any of his companions but he doesn’t really think they’ll believe him if he tells them that. Hell, for all he knows he’ll probably be accused of lying and get that carved into him next.
He sets the glass down, licks over his lips and decidedly does not shudder when three sets of eyes bounce to his mouth. Rook inhales, braces himself for a whole night of this weird shit until he can get his feet back under him and figure out a way to get the hell out of wherever he is, and asks the only question he can think to ask.
“Can I have more tea, please?”
#drabble prompts#far cry 5#fc5#jacob seed#joseph seed#john seed#male deputy#i dont know what happened either#it wasnt supposed to be this long#i hope you enjoy anyhow!#Anonymous
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Christmas Cheer (Thor X Reader)
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For @warriorsacrifice: “Thor's s/o and him spending Christmas together and they decorate the house and tree as well as eating cookies and watching movies? Then she tells him about Santa and he's all giddy?”
A/N: I actually loved writing this? I know it’s...not at all the right season but I don’t even care? And if you know anything about me, you should know that I’m a hopeless romantic so of course I had to work mistletoe into this! Also, I’m Jewish so...I based most of this off of what I’ve done with friends for Christmas and/or things I’ve seen in movies (legitimately) and read in books. I...think I got things accurate, but I’m not gonna pretend like it’s all perfect.
Oh and yeah Elf is my favorite Christmas movie. Because, “The best way to spread Christmas Cheer is singing loud for all to hear.” And also because “Smiling’s my favorite!” AND “Bye Buddy! Hope you find your dad!” AND Zooey Deschanel singing “Baby It’s Cold Outside.”
Warnings: Nothing, super cute and fluffy!
Words: 2,524
Normally you went home for the holidays, but this year, your parents had decided to go on a Cruise instead of hosting Christmas at their house. That ended up being for the better, you thought. You wanted to spend Christmas with Thor, but you weren’t sure it was time for him to meet your family yet. You’d only been dating a couple of months, and you knew family could be something of a touchy subject for him. You didn’t want to rush anything, so you decided to decorate your apartment and host a mini-party for just the two of you.
He stayed over the day before Christmas Eve and helped you decorate the living room. You already had your tree up - it was one of the fake ones that fit on top of a table, given how small your space was - but you’d saved a few ornaments for him to place on it. He studied each ornament closely, asking questions about the details like, “This is that Queen from Alderaan, right?”
You nodded. “Princess Leia,” you told him, unwrapping the last ornament from the bubble wrap you kept around the breakable ones.
“Your favorite,” he said, a proud smile on his face as he placed the Leia ornament over one of the small branches.
“That she is,” you said, handing him the final ornament. “Doesn’t hurt that you kinda remind me of her.”
Thor took it as a compliment, like it was meant. He beamed, probably remembering the last time you’d made him watch the original Star Wars trilogy. You weren’t totally unconvinced that Leia wasn’t his favorite, too, although he always said it was Chewbacca.
That night, you watched It’s A Wonderful Life. It was your mom’s favorite movie and a Christmas tradition. Thor paid attention the whole time, waiting until the end to ask, “Is that really a thing Midgardian teachers say? About the angels?”
You laughed and shook your head. “Not anymore, anyway. It’s just...a nice line in the movie, I guess.”
He hummed his response as the end credits rolled. As the DVD menu came up, he said, “I know George Bailey had to go through all of that to learn his lesson, but I must say, I don’t think I agree.”
You turned to him and asked, “How so?”
“Wishing that he’d never been born? How could he ever expect that his friends and family would be better off without him? His wife was so lonely…”
“She wasn’t his wife if he’d never been born,” you said, giving him a somewhat sad smile.
“Yes, but that’s my point! Life happens as it’s meant to. Tempting fate by reversing time is dangerous. And, in George’s case, selfish.”
You nodded. “But you said yourself he had to do it to learn.” You tilted your head and watched his serious face. “Are you telling me you’d never go back and change even just one thing that happened before today?”
He paused, then shrugged. “A life lived without regrets is a life lived without growth. That’s why I love that cartoon about the mouse who cooks,” he said, his smile widening just a bit.
You laughed at that. “He’s a rat. They’re bigger, and they tend to be more highly stigmatized.”
“Right. But I meant that that movie deals with mistakes and failure in a much healthier manner,” he said. “But I assume it’s not meant to be a movie viewed during Christmas?”
“It’s more of an anytime movie,” you said. “But I do have one you might like more. It’s a comedy, and Santa Clause is in it!” You got up off the couch and went to your movie collection to find Elf. You changed the discs in your player, then sat back beside Thor and watched his face change from contemplation to elation. Oh yes. He was going to love Elf.
He spent the next morning going over all of the jokes he’d loved from the previous night. “And Mr. Narwhal?” He nearly bent over laughing. “‘Bye Buddy, hope you find your dad!’” he said in an exaggeratedly light tone before placing his palms on your dining table to hold himself up. “You were right. I quite liked that movie!”
“The man who plays Santa in it is also in Up. you remember that one, right?” you asked, pulling more decorations out of the bin on the table. You had garlands and a wreath, jingle bells and holly all laid out, but you were digging for your mistletoe. You had one little (fake) branch that you wanted to keep out of Thor’s sight so you could hang it up later and surprise him, but you couldn’t remember where you’d put it.
“Of course I remember!” he said, reminding you that you’d asked him a question. “And you know, now that you mention it, I can hear the similarities in their voices.”
“He’s Ed Asner. Super snarky on Twitter. I love him.” You handed him a garland and some tape, then showed him where it should go and how to properly hang it so the tape wouldn’t ruin the shiny material or your paint job.
You opened Spotify on your phone and placed it in your speaker-dock so you could listen to Christmas playlists while you worked. Eventually, you found your mistletoe at the bottom of the bin. You told Thor you were just going to the bathroom, but really you went into the bedroom and hid the mistletoe in your bedside table.
That night, you and Thor made cookies (from scratch, because you found an easy sugar cookie recipe online) for Santa, which, of course, you had to tell him all about. “It’s just a little snack while he leaves presents under the tree. You know, because leaving presents in every house all over the globe is really rough work and everything.”
“This is what you tell the children, right?” he asked. “I may not be from Midgard, but I do know that not everyone here recognizes this Santa Clause, nor does everyone celebrate Christmas.”
You knew he meant well, so you sighed and nodded as you mixed ingredients together. “Yes, Thor.” You flashed him a smile so he’d know you weren’t put off by his question. “Santa’s mostly reserved for kids. It’s still fun to make the cookies and eat them in the middle of the night to make it look like Santa did it instead.”
He placed parchment paper along a baking sheet and nodded in time with the music you still had playing. “I think Santa’s quaint,” he said, seeming genuine as his smile remained. “Although it is a little odd that so many people just accept a jolly round man slipping in and out of their homes for a night.” He pushed the baking sheet over to you before covering a second. “Still, it’s nice to have a unifying figure in whose honor we’ll eat these tonight!”
You laughed as you started to place little lumps of dough on the sheets.
While the cookies baked, you sat and watched more movies together. You put on Nightmare Before Christmas first, telling him that yes, it was both a Halloween and a Christmas movie and it had always meant to be both. Right after Jack made it to Christmas Town, you excused yourself once more to fetch the mistletoe. Then you brought it to the space between your kitchen and bedroom, dragging a chair along your - fortunately - carpet to stand on. You pinned the mistletoe to the ceiling so it hung facing down, then you put the chair back and even took the extra measure of flushing your bedroom toilet to make it sound like you’d been in there the whole time.
Thor didn’t say anything until the end of the movie. You barely missed him checking over his shoulder toward the bedroom, so you panicked, trying to keep the mistletoe a surprise as long as possible. You launched yourself across his lap, drawing his attention back to you.
“Do you need something?” he teased, and when you looked back and up at him, you saw he was smirking.
“I just…” You tried to think of something convincing to say, but all that came out was, “my legs were cramping.” You let your shins fall against the arm of the couch and tried to smile at Thor.
He rose his eyebrows and asked, “You’re sure this doesn’t have anything to do with the mysterious plant you’ve hung from the ceiling over there.” He pointed back at the mistletoe, his smirk widening.
Your head fell forward and hit the couch cushion next to him as you groaned. Of course he’d heard you put the thing up. He’d probably peeked then, and you hadn’t even noticed! You really should’ve gotten your step stool out instead of dragging a chair all the way across the room if you’d even thought about it a little bit.
Thor just laughed, though. He tapped one of your butt cheeks lightly, and you tried to bring your heel up to smack him in the shoulder, but you didn’t bend quite far enough. You ended up just kicking air, which Thor laughed at as well.
“Alright, alright,” you said, pushing yourself up off the couch. You slid from his lap and stood up. “C’mon. I suppose I have to explain the mysterious plant hanging from the ceiling.” You held a hand out to him, knowing he didn’t at all need assistance in standing. Still, he took your hand in his and then followed you around the couch and over to the mistletoe. You took a deep breath as he looked up at the plant, and then you dived in.
“Okay, so this is called mistletoe. It’s actually a parasite in nature, but this one’s fake anyway. It’s a Christmas tradition for two people to stand beneath it and share a kiss.” At that, he looked down at you, but he didn’t say anything. “I think that has something to do with it being used as a sign of fertility in ancient civilizations. Although, closer to you,” you pushed one pointer finger into his chest playfully, “it’s more of a sign of peace among enemies. So, I guess it’s generally just a unifying symbol of...mutual respect or something. Affection, in the case of Christmas.”
You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and checked the time, then smiled. You’d timed this almost too perfectly. “Which, by the way, is happening now.” You shoved your phone back, then put that hand around the back of Thor’s neck. You stood on your tiptoes and brought him down to you at the same time, and then you shared your first Christmas kiss with him.
He kept it short and sweet, pulling his lips back without moving anything else. His blue eye locked on yours as he said, “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”
You pecked his lips once before returning, “Merry Christmas, Thor.”
You woke up early to put out a handful of presents beneath your tiny tree. Thor had placed some there when he’d first come over, so you had an idea of how many gifts to expect - not that the number mattered, really. It was just that he would wake up and see even more beneath the tree and, just maybe, understand what getting presents from Santa might feel like. All he had to do was suspend disbelief.
You added the final touch to the room quickly: you hung up the stockings you’d made weeks ago. Two red and green stockings went on the wall above your TV; one had your name on it and a few little glittery decorations, and the other said Thor with lightning made of glitter and glue all over. When you were satisfied with their placement, you went back to the bedroom and jumped onto the bed.
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!” you practically yelled, shoving Thor hard because you knew he slept like a rock. “It’s Christmas morning!”
He groaned, but when you shoved him again, he laughed and said, “Fine, alright! I’m awake!” He turned toward you, his hand going to the back of your neck so he could pull you down for a kiss like you had last night below the mistletoe.
You only let him kiss you for a few minutes before you pulled his hand down and tried to get him out of bed. “C’mon! We have to go see what Santa left you!”
He laughed, and you knew he’d go along with whatever you told him today. You were finally able to get him out of bed, then you dragged him into the living room to show him the tree. He did, indeed, remark that there were more presents beneath it than there had been last night.
“I told you Santa was magic,” you said, squeezing his hand in yours. You picked up the first present you wanted him to open, then gave it to him before going to grab some chairs to bring over to the tree. You opened presents one at a time, leaning over to kiss and thank one another in between.
Thor had gotten you a scar he’d seen you looking at whenever you passed a little boutique uptown, a copy of a movie you always talked about (he conceded and told you Tony had to help him track it down), and an ancient-looking, though in good condition, book of Scandinavian runes. “I know you like having some books for decoration,” he said. “Though, I do love the idea of you knowing more of what I do.”
You fingered the delicate pages tenderly, looking through the descriptions of the runes without taking in too much information at first. With a huge smile and a few tears in your eyes, you pulled the book to your chest and told him, “This is...really wonderful, Babe. I love it.”
You’d gotten him, among other things, an intricately carved charm of Mjölnir and a silver chain to hang it on. He studied the details in the charm silently for a few minutes, then he looked up at you and beamed. Just like you had with the book, he had tears in his eyes as he held tight to the charm. “Did you make this?” he asked.
You felt a little guilty, but only because you hadn’t made it. You’d found it on Etsy, actually, but you made sure to buy from a Scandinavian shop. You shook your head sheepishly and explained where you’d gotten it, and you noticed that his face never changed. He still looked proud and elated, and it made your heart melt.
“I love it,” he said. He unclasped the chain, then placed it around his neck and clasped it again. The charm hung around his neck when he asked, “How does it look?”
“Perfect, if I do say so myself,” you responded.
He sighed contentedly, then waved for you to come to him. You did, sitting on his lap as his arms wrapped around you. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He kissed you quick, then said, “Thank you, (Y/N).”
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Dec 17 Dancitron Movie Night - Gotham s2 e1-3
Everyone’s very disappointed in Jim Gordon’s life choices.
Today MedicalMurdersaurus 7:22 pm *SLIDES into the room Tom Cruise style, holding a sack full of his now several month old Halloween goodie haul above his head* NoodlesAtNight 7:23 pm *Soundwave's rushing to put everything together, having been so very busy today with... things. He JUST manages to twirl out of the way of Swoop's slide, and ejects Laserbeak, who practically mobs Swoop for the bag.* MedicalMurdersaurus 7:23 pm *SQUEAKS* BIRD! NoodlesAtNight 7:24 pm {{Gimme gimme gimme gimme, let Bird see, aaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAA}} SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:24 pm *the dragon comes in /much/ more sedately and sensibly than Swoop. she's got her typical haul of treats! she's also got special "grayface gummis" made with mercury syrup that are shaped like the anonymous ask face. anon may have been a coward, but Bird will still get grayface snacks.* Hello, Soundwave! verdigrisprowl 7:24 pm *appears. he'd been hoping to get here before the other guests.* *oh well.* NoodlesAtNight 7:25 pm *Prowl can nudge Soundwave upstairs briefly if needs be?* MedicalMurdersaurus 7:25 pm *drops the bag in front of himself, then plops next to it and dumps it out for inspection* verdigrisprowl 7:26 pm *no, it's fine, he just wanted a quiet moment with him.* ((i'm assuming this is fuzzytimed to before unicron?)) NoodlesAtNight 7:27 pm ((if it's agreed that's best?? i wasn't 100% sure)) verdigrisprowl 7:27 pm ((i can say it's safe to say prowl wouldn't be going to movie streams if he's supposed to be organizing evacuations.)) NoodlesAtNight 7:27 pm ((then it technically took place yesterday)) [[Greetings, dragon. Those look new. Inspired?]] *Pings Prowl and heads past to oh so lightly brush his fingers against Prowl's before continuing to arrange the furniture.* NoodlesAtNight 7:28 pm *Bird gasps.* {{It so many! Where you Swoop get all this good?}} verdigrisprowl 7:28 pm *oh so lightly brushes back* MedicalMurdersaurus 7:28 pm *beams* All over! Me Swoop do LOTS and LOTS of trick or treat : > SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:30 pm There was maybe a little inspiration involved. I hope they're good! NoodlesAtNight 7:30 pm {{How many trick you play? Them Autobots get fooled?}} [[He is sure they will be as delicious as everything else you make - and if for some reason they are not, our critiques will be gentle and helpful.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 7:30 pm Kehehh! Nahhh! No trick! All treats. ALMOST one trick. But Him do treat too : > NoodlesAtNight 7:31 pm *Tiny bob for the dragon. Respect!* Swervester 7:32 pm //oof dinner finished just in time NoodlesAtNight 7:33 pm ((welcome!)) Swervester 7:33 pm //also ya i figured fuzzy timed bc swerve wouldn't be here either if unicron happening lmao NoodlesAtNight 7:34 pm ((i just didn't wanna assume without input! all good 😀 )) verdigrisprowl 7:35 pm ((i'm gonna go grab food after take me to church)) NoodlesAtNight 7:35 pm ((np not starting til 8)) MedicalMurdersaurus 7:35 pm ((I've heard this song ten thousand times but literally this is the first time I have ever payed attention to the lyrics OMFG)) verdigrisprowl 7:35 pm ((until then i'll be dancing in my seat)) verdigrisprowl 7:36 pm ((IT'S INTENSE SHIT)) NoodlesAtNight 7:36 pm {{Who them almost? You want Bird trick them?}} SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:36 pm *the dragon churrs happily. Soundwave is so kind.* MedicalMurdersaurus 7:36 pm Uhhhhh.... Me Swoop not remember name. Me Swoop not ask. No care. Me Swoop ONLY want trick or treat. For Bird! Kehehheh. And beat other Dinobots. NoodlesAtNight 7:39 pm *Bird rolls in the air, whistling happily.* {{You Swoop beat them? Them wimps. Swoop beat, Bird knows.}} opatoes 7:39 pm Oooh! I got here just in time, huh? MedicalMurdersaurus 7:40 pm *snickers and watches her go* Them not FLY opatoes 7:40 pm ((asdzxcbm i JUST got back from spidey im getting no rest tonight NoodlesAtNight 7:40 pm [[You really must tell him more about how you learned to do all of this some time, dragon. He is most curious.]] [[That you did, Smokescreen.]] ((aaaaa lucky!! i hope you enjoyed it)) opatoes 7:41 pm /Smokescreen's running in and is throwing himself at the couch- he may look a little funny tonight. Mostly that he looks like Starscream./ MedicalMurdersaurus 7:41 pm ((Oh! Is there going to be a Christmas Eve stream?)) opatoes 7:41 pm ((I did! It was really good! Swervester 7:41 pm //unless i get a laptop for christmas and am allowed to open it i'll miss eve stream, I spend the christmas night/day at my mom's and mobile rabbit doesn't like my phone so MedicalMurdersaurus 7:42 pm ((I'll be with fam too. It's cool. We might just need a recap before the following one.)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:43 pm It... *the dragon considers for a moment* I mean, I guess it was difficult. But at first I was just- *hm, Prowl's here* I was just giving out plain energon. Then someone mentioned adding things. Then that one human, the feline human I think? Started making stuff. And I just... I just decided to try doing that myself. I did nearly blow myself up twice, but I already knew how to cook dragon-style, so once I figured out the rules with energon, it wasn't as hard as it could have been. Getting everything the right size for you all to eat was really the hard part! I had to rig up something so that I could get proper serving sizes. NoodlesAtNight 7:43 pm ((depending on how many people show up i will either just offer plot summaries for those who missed, or switch to something seasonal for one week and then resume 4-6 on the next week)) MedicalMurdersaurus 7:44 pm ((sounds good!)) NoodlesAtNight 7:44 pm ((but if i switch then any future misses will have to be summaries or we'll fail to hit venomtine's day)) MedicalMurdersaurus 7:44 pm ((venomtine's day is going to be a laugh riot)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:44 pm ((hell yeah)) NoodlesAtNight 7:45 pm [[...Smokescreen, that is the most horrible thing they have ever done to you.]] *Eyeing the Starscream appearance before playing back the dragon's speech in his head to catch up* opatoes 7:46 pm ... I wish I could say it was, Soundwave. But man, I can't wait 'til a couple weeks after this! So I can look good again. NoodlesAtNight 7:46 pm *Swing and a miss on that humorous shot. Oops.*
[[Where did you find implements large enough for our servings? Special order?]] MedicalMurdersaurus 7:48 pm *makes no move to help Bird with candy mountain, cause a decent chunk of Swoop wants to see her try to fly off with it all* NoodlesAtNight 7:48 pm *She is definitely circling it and trying to figure out how to get it all back into her grip* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:48 pm ...You know those human car-building machines? I had to use two of those, a draconic control rig, and a pair- *uh, even though they're sterilized and very, very clean, she probably shouldn't cop to using corpse hands for anything* -and some other stuff to get proper manual dexterity. MedicalMurdersaurus 7:49 pm *is both delighted and intentionally useless* : > opatoes 7:49 pm /You tried, Soundwave. Smokey's not about to say anything that could possibly tempt worse things, though!/ NoodlesAtNight 7:49 pm *Maybe if she just... drops to the floor and scoots herself under it back first with the help of her feelers?*
*...................Nope. No good.* MedicalMurdersaurus 7:50 pm *claps both hands over his mouth in an absolutely pitiful attempt to control his full body shaking laughter* NoodlesAtNight 7:51 pm [[You are quite the inventive little organic. He suspects our Wheeljack would be fascinated with your ability to rig things if we could get him out of his damned laboratory.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 7:51 pm ((Laserbeak's eyes have been bigger than her gut for a while now. is tonight the night she is bested? XD)) NoodlesAtNight 7:52 pm *And not tempting greyfaces is very wise, Smokescreen. He's proud of you for having learned that, actually* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:52 pm I think he'd scream and duck for cover. *the dragon still puffs up, pleased by the compliment, though* The mechanical parts are more "creative" than "dangerous," but I suspect the code I had to use to get everything to interface together is a crime against programming. *oops, she said the C-word. sorry, prowl!* opatoes 7:52 pm /To be fair, he got into this mess by tempting them in the first place! He's gotta learn eventually./ opatoes 7:53 pm Say- Say, Soundwave, what kind of drinks do you have tonight anyway? NoodlesAtNight 7:54 pm *Okay. Okay. What if she - what if she bridges it? And she catches it in -- no, that's not going to work. How about trying to make a basket like Soundwave does?*
*She'll get about halfway into weaving one before realizing she won't have anything left to grab the candy with afterward.*
*She might just be, Swoop. Give her another few minutes.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:54 pm ((there's cat hair in my apple cider)) NoodlesAtNight 7:54 pm ((mood)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:54 pm ((how did this happen, I say as I pull my cat's face out of my mug)) NoodlesAtNight 7:55 pm ((at least YOUR cat was NEAR your mug. i somehow got one in there even though she was on the floor.)) MedicalMurdersaurus 7:55 pm *flops forward onto his belly, chin in hands, to watch her with the most devious grin* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:56 pm ((the second the apples come out, my cat is there. it's actually really weird. I have to lock my apples in the microwave because she will eat them otherwise. and if I leave an apple core in the trash can without bagging the trash up and removing it she'll knock the can over and eat the core.)) Swervester 7:56 pm //HA i made koolaid earlier, my cat wasn't even in the same room and there was haior in it Swervester 7:57 pm //i had to pull out three strands like cat pls SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:57 pm ((cat hair is a magical substance)) NoodlesAtNight 7:57 pm [[Well, you are only a beginner. You can't be faulted for having so little time to practice compared to his species.]]
[[Oh, Smokescreen - tonight we have some of what Ravage has called a Thermometwist. Heated energon with minerals that leave your mouth feeling cooled despite the temperature. It is on the sweet and tart side.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 7:58 pm ((it's like ravage designed a drink specifically to make swoop feel attacked)) verdigrisprowl 7:58 pm ((IM BACK)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 7:58 pm *the dragon chuffs* That does make me feel better. *she puffs up with pride* And in any case, my cooking is what I pride myself on. opatoes 7:58 pm Oooh- that sounds pretty good! I had to check before I got up, you know? /Now, slowly, slowly, Smokescreen is making his way over to the bar, grabbing onto anything he can to make sure he doesn't fall over. His new claws *might* accidentally go through a couch./ NoodlesAtNight 7:59 pm *OKAY. Okay. Laserbeak's got it. She's got this now. She knows exactly how to carry all of this upstairs to her room.*
{{Hey, Swoop. You putting goodies back in bag, taking upstairs. Okay?}} ((welcome back!)) MedicalMurdersaurus 7:59 pm *griiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiins* Kay NoodlesAtNight 7:59 pm *She whirs happily. Hah! No food yet has been created that will best her genius.* verdigrisprowl 7:59 pm ((i skim-backread but did anybody talk to prowl while i was gone)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:00 pm ((the dragon said "Crimes" but that wasn't to prowl, that was just a dig at her own programming skills)) NoodlesAtNight 8:00 pm ((we start when song is done)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:00 pm ((which start at "if about to blow up(); don't;" and go downhill from there)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:01 pm *sweeps the candy back into the bag, missing a few here and there but not noticing* Me SWOOP can candy kehehheh *carries the bag away with just one hand because he can* NoodlesAtNight 8:01 pm *Soundwave sighs softly at the claws through the couch. He's never going to have a week where he doesn't have to replace SOME piece of furniture again, is he?* ((lmao what a description - and nay soundwave didn't say anythin else to him yet cause i didn't want it to get lost haha)) NoodlesAtNight 8:02 pm {{You Swoop stroooooong. Mighty Dinobot!}} *Picking the last few off the ground before following him.* verdigrisprowl 8:02 pm *is soundwave sitting yet? if so, prowl's leaning on him. if not, prowl's watching him expectantly.* Swervester 8:02 pm [he has found a seat, don't mind him] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:02 pm *understands sarcasm exists and doesn't even consider it a possibility because Bird compliments are <3* NoodlesAtNight 8:02 pm *He is just now about to sit, which he does with more grace than one would expect from someone who just saw his expenses grow and grew tired at the thought.* NoodlesAtNight 8:03 pm [[Ah, Swerve. Good evening.]] opatoes 8:03 pm /Smokescreen's finally grabbing himself a drink and, on the way back, finally notices the claw damage, wings drooping and staring at Soundwave./ Uh. Soundwave? Can I give you a gift later? Swervester 8:03 pm Hey NoodlesAtNight 8:03 pm [[Perhaps.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:03 pm *follows Bird's lead on depositing the candy in its new home and final resting place* opatoes 8:03 pm !! /He's waving at Swerve in excitement! This has got to be the most excited any Starscream look-a-like has EVER looked./ Good, good! You've always wanted another couch, right? NoodlesAtNight 8:04 pm *She'll have him park it riiiiight on top of her latest pile of snacks. Hopefully it won't topple.* verdigrisprowl 8:04 pm It's a brick wall. They can just take a jackhammer to the bricks. NoodlesAtNight 8:04 pm [[Perhaps they will? That was a month ago.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:04 pm ((what the fuuuuuuck, penguin)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:05 pm *it does a little but whatever* NoodlesAtNight 8:05 pm ((he's pulling a mooney)) *Good enough for her! Hurry, hurry, back down!* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:05 pm I think it would hurt Bruce's pride not to be able to guess his father's combination. verdigrisprowl 8:05 pm ((i totally wasn't looking, who got shot)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:05 pm *scampers down again, laughing all the way* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:05 pm ((no one I recognized)) NoodlesAtNight 8:05 pm ((penguin offed some rando who probably pissed him off/belonged to falcone)) NoodlesAtNight 8:06 pm ((OH RIGHT WARNINGS shit hold on)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:06 pm *the dragon snickers* The Goddess was drunk when she let his soul through. verdigrisprowl 8:06 pm He can jackhammer his way into the room, take the door upstairs, and open it at his leisure. NoodlesAtNight 8:06 pm ((GOTHAM S2 1-3 // Violence, blood, death; includes eye trauma. Poor depictions of mental illnesses, continuing representation of a terrible institution. Flashing lights, foul/ableist/phobic(?) language, offensive accent imitation(?), passing mentions of sexual assault and cannibalism, character using incest implication for shock value against another character.)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:06 pm Oh! Us watching FIGHTING movie! opatoes 8:07 pm ... Man, I gotta bug Megatron about swordfighting later SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:07 pm He drank WHAT. verdigrisprowl 8:07 pm You don't pull a gun on looters. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:07 pm Dragon blood :V NoodlesAtNight 8:08 pm ((Do note that this season is eventually where we get what I promised the first time we saw Arkham; if Arkham looks terrible, there is a very good reason.)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:08 pm He drank /WHAT/. *she'd be laughing, but her blood is vaguely blue* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:08 pm BLOOD NoodlesAtNight 8:08 pm [[Hopefully no dragon you know.]] Swervester 8:08 pm Is he ok opatoes 8:09 pm begone SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:09 pm I don't think that the Gotham humans have any access to any dragons I know. opatoes 8:09 pm thought verdigrisprowl 8:09 pm ((seriously? a split personality? riddler can't just be riddler on his own merits for his own reason?)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:09 pm ((I know, right)) NoodlesAtNight 8:09 pm ((not a development i much liked either tbh)) verdigrisprowl 8:10 pm ((*mentally replaces it with kronk arguing with his shoulder angel/devil*)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:10 pm ((mood)) NoodlesAtNight 8:10 pm ((that works!! i shall join you on it)) [[Oh, punch him. He deserves it.]] *Settles up against Prowl. Ahh.* opatoes 8:10 pm Uh. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:10 pm Punch him hard. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:11 pm Where fighting go :< verdigrisprowl 8:11 pm I prefer the threat. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:11 pm ...Um. verdigrisprowl 8:11 pm The threat's legal and scarier. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:11 pm KEHEHEHH burp opatoes 8:11 pm Uh. Is that a thing humans can do SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:11 pm No. No it is not. NoodlesAtNight 8:11 pm [[He didn't say not to keep the threat. A punch simply feels good.]] opatoes 8:11 pm ... man, human headlights look away NoodlesAtNight 8:11 pm [[But you are right. Legal is probably safer with Loeb.]] opatoes 8:11 pm weird Weird I mean verdigrisprowl 8:11 pm ... Hmm. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:12 pm *the dragon kind of wants to point out that biting Loeb's throat out would also solve the problem, but after The Javert Thing she's trying to be good* opatoes 8:12 pm Be Batman, Gordon. NoodlesAtNight 8:12 pm *It would get him put in jail. Can't do much detective work from in there.* opatoes 8:12 pm ... Who's Jerome NoodlesAtNight 8:13 pm [[The circus youngling who slaughtered his mother.]] opatoes 8:13 pm ... Is he the Joker human later NoodlesAtNight 8:13 pm [[Perhaps. He does not know.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:14 pm Ooooh, is she going to hurt him? MedicalMurdersaurus 8:14 pm Them stripey : > opatoes 8:14 pm ((asdxccvb for a second this felt familiar but i think i got this part mixed up with like... assassin's creed movie SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:14 pm She did not. Hm. verdigrisprowl 8:14 pm ((the heck is with that skirt. it looks like an unusually modest Sexy Halloween Costume)) verdigrisprowl 8:15 pm ((prison striped skirt)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:15 pm ((I know, right)) opatoes 8:15 pm Anarchy! NoodlesAtNight 8:15 pm ((they riff on the arkham wear late in the season, even the script knows lmao)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:15 pm ANARCHY! verdigrisprowl 8:15 pm ((lol good)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:15 pm ((god penguin is so gay for him)) NoodlesAtNight 8:16 pm [[Penguin does not owe you for that. You did that to repay him from previous ones.]] verdigrisprowl 8:16 pm There's a question of scale. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:17 pm ((Penguin is gay (happy) because he's gay (homosexual) for Jim)) verdigrisprowl 8:17 pm ((gay^2)) Swervester 8:17 pm [squints] Isn't this sliding into all those moral objections he had before. verdigrisprowl 8:17 pm It most certainly is. NoodlesAtNight 8:17 pm [[It seems to be.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:17 pm I would assume so, but it's hard to tell with humans. NoodlesAtNight 8:18 pm [[He stopped Penguin from getting arrested in exchange for helping to put away another criminal. He himself considers the scale even.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:18 pm Sir, are you- oh, it's Harvey. Nevermind, that's probably safe. NoodlesAtNight 8:18 pm [[The officer who stabbed a witness. Flask.]] NoodlesAtNight 8:19 pm ((be happy, harvey ;; good on you)) verdigrisprowl 8:19 pm ((good work harvey)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:20 pm Soundwave. You fast forward to fighting part. NoodlesAtNight 8:20 pm ((i love that he walked. he's still so law-abiding he walked all the way to wayne manor instead of driving after having been drinking)) verdigrisprowl 8:20 pm ((i just assumed he didn't have a car without a patrol car)) NoodlesAtNight 8:21 pm ((also possible, but i like it the other way XD ))
*Soundwave leans forward, curious.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:21 pm ((honestly same)) Oooh, the child's sharp. verdigrisprowl 8:21 pm "Personal honor." Not wanting to thrash somebody isn't a manner of "personal honor," it's a matter of morality. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:22 pm I'm not sure whether his docent should be chiding him or not for being so clever. *hah* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:22 pm ((I love this Bruce but I have no idea how, when Batman shows up, Gordon didn't immediately drive over to Wayne Manor to give him a talking to because he is SO CLEARLY tiny Batman)) Swervester 8:22 pm I guess personal honor and morality alignment could fall on the same scale but yeah that's definitely an issue of morality and probably legality SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:22 pm *she /knew/ he'd be too proud to break down the door* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:22 pm Me Swoop like THRASHING kehhehehh verdigrisprowl 8:22 pm There's no pride in deciding whether or not you want to commit a lesser evil for a greater good. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:22 pm *...or not* NoodlesAtNight 8:23 pm [[Besides, if he does something against the law, Loeb will have no problem holding it against him. He holds it against them when they're still police.]] Swervester 8:24 pm Did he have a plan Oh. He did MedicalMurdersaurus 8:24 pm KEHHEH him punch with gun! verdigrisprowl 8:25 pm *sighs* NoodlesAtNight 8:25 pm {{It tiny thrash.}} *Chirp* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:25 pm *AAHHHH HER CHIRP IS SO CUTE* NoodlesAtNight 8:25 pm ((a note of interest: this chase sorta mirrors the one from S1 's opener with positions reversed, i think)) opatoes 8:26 pm Gordon... NoodlesAtNight 8:26 pm ((the weird cam angles, cop + criminal, through a kitchen, etc))
[[........../Well./ That won't be good. Primus damn it, human.]] Swervester 8:26 pm This child's catty. //rtdgfg does he read as autistic scale to anyone else verdigrisprowl 8:26 pm ((ur rite)) NoodlesAtNight 8:26 pm ((which who he)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:26 pm ((hell yes he does0) Swervester 8:26 pm //bruce verdigrisprowl 8:26 pm ((bruce)) NoodlesAtNight 8:27 pm ((sometimes ye)) Swervester 8:27 pm //he keeps vacilliating between "no he's just traumatized" and pinging all my "ah someone autistic like me" brain signals and it's wild NoodlesAtNight 8:27 pm ((both. both is good)) verdigrisprowl 8:27 pm ((he can be both)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:27 pm Bird : > Swervester 8:27 pm //i like both verdigrisprowl 8:28 pm Hang up. NoodlesAtNight 8:29 pm *Tilts his head.* [[A phone that big, going unnoticed? Someone was bribed.]] Swervester 8:29 pm Did she have any reason not to believe him until she called back NoodlesAtNight 8:29 pm [[Even humans are not that unobservant.]] NoodlesAtNight 8:30 pm [[He does not think your average mech would go away and be secretive about a sales call, personally.]] verdigrisprowl 8:30 pm ... Maybe Swindle. Swervester 8:30 pm Swindle absolutely would. NoodlesAtNight 8:30 pm [[...Swindle is granted an exception.]] verdigrisprowl 8:30 pm I suppose you DID specify "average" mech. Swervester 8:31 pm //crunch is better NoodlesAtNight 8:31 pm *Soundwave huffs softly.* verdigrisprowl 8:31 pm ((smooth forever)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:31 pm You Bird funny and *somewhat uncomfortable at the words coming out of his face* cute MedicalMurdersaurus 8:32 pm ((throw another vote on the smooth pile)) NoodlesAtNight 8:32 pm {{You Swoop nice but noisy.}} *She pats him.* {{Shhhhh.}} Swervester 8:32 pm I want to ask who's head but I'm not sure I wanna know. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:32 pm *leans into the pats* NoodlesAtNight 8:32 pm [[A guard's, obviously.]] Swervester 8:33 pm This thunderstorm thing is real convinenant NoodlesAtNight 8:33 pm [[He does have a sense for the dramatic.]] NoodlesAtNight 8:34 pm *LOUD huff* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:34 pm ((so goddamn proud of himself)) *in his best whisper attempt* Me Swoop Dinobot. Dinobots not for quiet! NoodlesAtNight 8:34 pm *She whispers back.* {{You Swoop do good job though.}} verdigrisprowl 8:35 pm He's quite the expert manipulator. NoodlesAtNight 8:35 pm *Soundwave twitches slightly, but settles down again.*
[[He is. It is little wonder he pulled off what he did with his enemies last time.]] *Twitch again. Hm.* verdigrisprowl 8:36 pm *points at the man behind the podium* He made the... dragon blood drug. NoodlesAtNight 8:36 pm [[Yes. He thinks so. The voices match.]] Swervester 8:36 pm ...I should probably learn more about police roles because two seasons and I'm still not entirely sure why he's in charge of the police. verdigrisprowl 8:36 pm Oh. I didn't notice the voices. Well, further evidence. NoodlesAtNight 8:37 pm [[It is his job to observe voice prints. Do not worry.]] *Pats knee.* [[He is in charge of the police because he blackmailed his way up th-- what is /that/.]] opatoes 8:37 pm ... He's like my boxyverse alternate MedicalMurdersaurus 8:37 pm KEHHEHHEHHEH Swervester 8:37 pm Whoa verdigrisprowl 8:37 pm Dragon blood. NoodlesAtNight 8:37 pm ((TABITHAAAAAAAAAA <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 )) NoodlesAtNight 8:38 pm [[You do not breathe your blood out, do you, dragon? That seems... unhealthy.]] verdigrisprowl 8:38 pm I'm sure that's just the street name. opatoes 8:38 pm wait who's tabitha NoodlesAtNight 8:39 pm {{His sister. Neheheh.}} opatoes 8:39 pm b. but who Swervester 8:39 pm Jerome really bothers me man. NoodlesAtNight 8:40 pm {{What bother bar bot?}} MedicalMurdersaurus 8:40 pm Bar bot?? Swervester 8:40 pm I can't put my finger on it but he really rubs me the wrong way whenever he talks. opatoes 8:41 pm ... He seems like an evilverse version of you, Swerve Swervester 8:41 pm ... What opatoes 8:41 pm ... What I mean- like, weirdverse you? MedicalMurdersaurus 8:41 pm *imagines someone petting Swerve backwards like a fussed cat and snickers* opatoes 8:41 pm Jerome seems like a weirdverse name. Swervester 8:41 pm [sputters] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:41 pm KEHHEHH MedicalMurdersaurus 8:42 pm Her stab : > NoodlesAtNight 8:42 pm [[He's seen worse recruitment tactics.]] opatoes 8:42 pm Like, you're pleasant and likable and Jerome isn't- am I just sticking my pede in my mouth or something Swervester 8:42 pm You are [waves hands] opatoes 8:42 pm Frag- well, uh. Can we pretend I didn't say that then? Swervester 8:42 pm Yes opatoes 8:42 pm Thank you, Swerve- you're pretty awesome, you know! NoodlesAtNight 8:42 pm [[Not a jackhammer, but...]] verdigrisprowl 8:42 pm They could have just. Gotten a couple of pickaxes. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:43 pm That a BABY explode! That NOTHING. Him Wheelack do bigger boom in sleep! verdigrisprowl 8:43 pm That was entirely unnecessary. NoodlesAtNight 8:43 pm {{That just call snoring, peh.}} Swervester 8:43 pm Wouldn't some big ass hammers suffice NoodlesAtNight 8:43 pm [[Unnecessary, but precisely the thing a youngling would dream up, he imagines.]] Swervester 8:43 pm How long have they been dead? This is a really dusty cave NoodlesAtNight 8:43 pm [[Exciting, different, and noisy.]] NoodlesAtNight 8:44 pm [[They have been dead a year. And they did just disturb the cave.]] Swervester 8:44 pm Hmm Seems pretty cobweby for a year but maybe that's just how organic caves are verdigrisprowl 8:45 pm That seems a false dichotomy. NoodlesAtNight 8:45 pm [[His father was a rich human who likely had little knowledge of the real world. He wouldn't doubt it.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:46 pm What rich means? *knows the word but doesn't understand the context* verdigrisprowl 8:46 pm Oh, is that where the mayor's been. NoodlesAtNight 8:46 pm {{It mean own looooooots of money, loooooots of stuff. Them not need know what everybody else knowing.}} [[...Ha. Tarantula. Imagine him in there.]] verdigrisprowl 8:46 pm ... Why would you do that to the poor tarantula. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:47 pm WHy not know? opatoes 8:47 pm ... Is he gonna do both NoodlesAtNight 8:47 pm *Wiggling his little spider legs threateningly at the box head.* opatoes 8:47 pm Man, I would've picked choice A. NoodlesAtNight 8:47 pm {{Them pay not to find out.}} MedicalMurdersaurus 8:47 pm *looks at Bird with no comprehension at all in his optics* Swervester 8:47 pm Wow they really need Batman. opatoes 8:47 pm I wouldn't mind a Messy on my face. NoodlesAtNight 8:48 pm *Gently elbows Prowl.* @P: [[He trusts you would pick choice A as well.]] *Humor ping.* [[Wh--]] *Huffing.* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:48 pm KEHEHHEHHEHH Fall! SPLAT! opatoes 8:48 pm get him pictures pictures of spiders man NoodlesAtNight 8:48 pm [[Rather unobservant for a journalist.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:48 pm KEHEHHHH!!! verdigrisprowl 8:48 pm Getting in a tiny box with a tarantula? Sounds fun. Swervester 8:49 pm //that;s the worst time for the video to freeze on me ghbg NoodlesAtNight 8:49 pm ((do you need a pause?)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:49 pm *wants to throw people with letters off a building* !! : > Swervester 8:49 pm //it's back now i just missed like 15 seconds lmao MedicalMurdersaurus 8:50 pm Nice verdigrisprowl 8:50 pm ... I feel like there are easier ways to get in the paper. NoodlesAtNight 8:50 pm [[That depends on what the point of the activity is.]] opatoes 8:51 pm ... Do people actually read newspapers MedicalMurdersaurus 8:51 pm What newspaper? *was but a wee dinotot when newspapers were a thing* verdigrisprowl 8:51 pm *... leans over to Soundwave* verdigrisprowl 8:52 pm @S «Where's the Starscream that sounds like a Smokescreen from?» Swervester 8:52 pm He's really interested in making a show of this isn't he opatoes 8:53 pm You'd think he'd just get a job in theater MedicalMurdersaurus 8:53 pm kehehheehhehhh! Him fall down : > NoodlesAtNight 8:53 pm @P: [[Smokescreen's world. The grey beings are having fun at other people's expenses again.]] NoodlesAtNight 8:54 pm [[Perhaps he was denied a beloved role.]] [[This could be his revenge.]] [[WHAT IS HE DOING.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:54 pm !!! Swervester 8:54 pm Alfred why verdigrisprowl 8:54 pm *prowl assumes soundwave means THAT smokescreen.* @S «So they switched out his voicebox?» opatoes 8:54 pm I guess that's true. That's the kind of thing a really passionate theater person might d- Alfred WHY MedicalMurdersaurus 8:54 pm keheh him SMASH verdigrisprowl 8:54 pm What the hell! NoodlesAtNight 8:55 pm @P: [[He isn't sure what they did, but they did tamper with him.]] Swervester 8:55 pm PRobably a good reason to let him see the thing so he could know what not to go looking for! NoodlesAtNight 8:55 pm [[Protect him? By not letting him know who to hide from?]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:56 pm ((It seems like he shouldn't be able to fire his guardian. Creates some problems...)) opatoes 8:56 pm This... isn't going to go well, is it MedicalMurdersaurus 8:56 pm KAHHAHAHAH GET HIM!! verdigrisprowl 8:56 pm Wreckers. NoodlesAtNight 8:56 pm [[Taking lessons from Rumble and Frenzy, he sees.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:56 pm aww.... Swervester 8:57 pm Evil Wreckers. verdigrisprowl 8:57 pm Redundant. opatoes 8:57 pm Phfff. NoodlesAtNight 8:57 pm [[Hah.]] opatoes 8:58 pm Oh yeah! The game called "Bullet munch" right NoodlesAtNight 8:58 pm [[...Yes. Yes, he is.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:58 pm ((Every other moment with Jerome, I can tell exactly which Joker incarnation he's trying to be. This Russian Roulette thing is the only time he feels like he's genuinely got his own take going. I like it.)) NoodlesAtNight 8:59 pm [][][]The case is a bear?[][][] *Looks to Prowl* Swervester 9:00 pm Wow she's rude. NoodlesAtNight 9:00 pm [[What police slang is this?]] opatoes 9:00 pm She wants him to stay happy verdigrisprowl 9:00 pm I think it's Earth slang. NoodlesAtNight 9:00 pm [[Hmm. You drove with humans a while; do you know what it means?]] NoodlesAtNight 9:01 pm *He hasn't seen a single bear on this case. He doesn't get it.* verdigrisprowl 9:01 pm Not completely sure. But bears are considered big and dangerous. I like her a lot. She's probably going to die. Swervester 9:02 pm Probably opatoes 9:02 pm Are there any other good cops in this whole place NoodlesAtNight 9:02 pm [[Hmm.]] *He's mostly used to the pandas, not the oth-- PFFFF* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:02 pm *blinks* The docent is quitting? Really? NoodlesAtNight 9:02 pm [[He was fired.]] opatoes 9:02 pm ((... i thought he just held that pose it just froze on me NoodlesAtNight 9:02 pm [[He has little choice.]] ((do i need to pause?)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:02 pm *blinks* Oh. Oh, yes, he. He was. opatoes 9:03 pm ((all good! SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:03 pm ((whoops, I was half-watching and missed that)) opatoes 9:03 pm ((it just made it look like he was staring into space for much longer MedicalMurdersaurus 9:03 pm ((I guess I knew Alfred probably was loaded in his own right but I only just now realized how little he'd have in the way of expenses. He lives in someone else's home and drives someone else's car and I can't imagine Bruce makes him buy his own groceries. Where can I find a boy billionaire to work for?)) Swervester 9:03 pm Well that's awful timing for a chant,. NoodlesAtNight 9:04 pm ((Idk but you better reference me when you get hired cause I want in too)) [[Oh, leave the records human alone.]] [[You already protected her. You did what you could.]] verdigrisprowl 9:04 pm She's not interested. Leave her alone. verdigrisprowl 9:05 pm (("I'm gonna take you down the path that rocks.")) MedicalMurdersaurus 9:05 pm ((He'd pretty much only have to pay for clothes, entertainment, and medical bills, though I bet Bruce got him super fucking amazing health insurance. )) NoodlesAtNight 9:06 pm ((LMAO puff)) opatoes 9:06 pm Onions MedicalMurdersaurus 9:06 pm ono *realizes what's going on* opatoes 9:06 pm ... Well, I thought he was gonna go on SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:06 pm ((puff just improves the riddler 200%)) opatoes 9:06 pm Uh. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:06 pm *perks up, wings flaring and optics bright* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:07 pm Him going to burn them! : > Awesome opatoes 9:07 pm Swoop, no, that's bad MedicalMurdersaurus 9:07 pm What bad? Fire fun : > verdigrisprowl 9:07 pm They can shoot at their knees. opatoes 9:07 pm Humans on fire is pretty bad. NoodlesAtNight 9:07 pm [[And risk missing?]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:08 pm Bad for THEM kehheheh opatoes 9:08 pm ... Luckily, this human's bad at starting fires verdigrisprowl 9:08 pm You miss and you hit the ground or a tire. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:08 pm fun for fire person opatoes 9:08 pm GORDON NoodlesAtNight 9:08 pm [[Both of which are soaked in -- oh dear.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:08 pm KEHHEHEH aw :< verdigrisprowl 9:08 pm ... You could have driven a LITTLE further away. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:08 pm KAHAHA SNIPED NoodlesAtNight 9:09 pm [[At least this Galavan knows how to mind his loose ends.]] [[Though that will make it more difficult for the Gordon human.]] NoodlesAtNight 9:10 pm ((i like how that was a big moment of quick thought, school. i wouldn't wanna go back either buddy)) opatoes 9:10 pm ... Oh yeah, how much school has bruce been missing? NoodlesAtNight 9:11 pm [[Months.]] opatoes 9:11 pm ... Is that a lot of time for humans? NoodlesAtNight 9:11 pm [[Some.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:11 pm Month is a looooooooooooong time NoodlesAtNight 9:12 pm [[Hm. Cute.]] *Checking in during a hard day of work. He appreciates that.* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:14 pm *is instantly taken in by Alfred's storytelling and is glued to the screen* NoodlesAtNight 9:14 pm [[...What is a kipper.]] *It must be a blanket. Humans tuck blankets. And clothes.* opatoes 9:14 pm ... What IS a kipper? Oh! ... Fish smoke? NoodlesAtNight 9:14 pm [[When they're on fire.]] opatoes 9:15 pm Ohhh. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:16 pm Sausage NoodlesAtNight 9:16 pm [[Redball. A bloody bullet?]] NoodlesAtNight 9:17 pm [[He really must stop talking to her.]] opatoes 9:17 pm ... He should really trace this call Oh verdigrisprowl 9:17 pm That's obviously a trap. Swervester 9:18 pm Ah she's going to die. verdigrisprowl 9:18 pm Yell for half a dozen other officers to come with you. NoodlesAtNight 9:18 pm [[...He's not sure there ARE half a dozen other officers left.]] verdigrisprowl 9:18 pm If he'd yelled BEFORE he left there would have been. NoodlesAtNight 9:19 pm [[Oh, you mean Gordon. He thought you meant her. Yes, he should have got more. But he does like to go alone... and she does know that.]] [][][]No heroes.[][][] *Sigh. He still doesn't listen to Harvey, does he.* verdigrisprowl 9:19 pm That's why you always bring backup. verdigrisprowl 9:20 pm ... There's a movie I just saw where that's a plot point. NoodlesAtNight 9:20 pm [[Where what is?]] verdigrisprowl 9:20 pm Bringing backup. NoodlesAtNight 9:20 pm [[Oh? What is it?]] Swervester 9:22 pm Why do humans spit like that verdigrisprowl 9:22 pm It's— Don't go watch it, I—think I'm going to show it in a few days. It's an insult. They think spit is gross. opatoes 9:22 pm Poor Gordon NoodlesAtNight 9:22 pm [[He will not watch it, on his honor. He simply wishes to know what to be excited about.]] [[Return faster, Gordon.]] Swervester 9:22 pm But spitting just makes them madder, wouldn't it be better not to opatoes 9:23 pm ... You really gotta clarify verdigrisprowl 9:24 pm It's Buzz Lightyear of Star Command. It's about the star cop in an interstellar police force. It's... a hard watch. opatoes 9:24 pm Come on- don't kill her off too verdigrisprowl 9:24 pm *gestures at the screen. what did he say.* Swervester 9:24 pm Did no oe call am ambulance? opatoes 9:24 pm ... /Dangit, why does Prowl have to watch movies he wants to see/ NoodlesAtNight 9:24 pm [[Oh, he knows that name - the little space suited human who is friends with the cowboy, yes? It is about him?]] verdigrisprowl 9:24 pm They might not have got there in time. verdigrisprowl 9:25 pm I didn't see any cowboys. But there's a whole series and I only saw the pilot, maybe the cowboy comes later. NoodlesAtNight 9:25 pm *Nodding. He rather liked the Toy stories; he would hear about the Star Command stories too.* [[And her loss is regrettable. A commissioner who would finally do something...]] opatoes 9:27 pm Man, it must be a multiversal thing that Joker ALWAYS likes being on tv opatoes 9:28 pm thanks mr edge MedicalMurdersaurus 9:29 pm KEHEHHH lots of people SPLAT verdigrisprowl 9:29 pm *disgusted scoff. "tiny cogs in an absurd machine." juvenile.* NoodlesAtNight 9:29 pm *Shakes his head.* [[He continues to fall...]] *Glances at Prowl. Why the scoff?* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:29 pm YESSSS MedicalMurdersaurus 9:30 pm Again! Again! verdigrisprowl 9:30 pm *glances back.* He's pathetic. opatoes 9:30 pm The word of the night in gotham is defenestration NoodlesAtNight 9:30 pm {{That fun word. Bird likes.}} MedicalMurdersaurus 9:30 pm What word? opatoes 9:30 pm Defenestration! NoodlesAtNight 9:30 pm [[The Jerome human? Yes. Too flashy by half.]] opatoes 9:30 pm It means "The act of throwing someone out the window" MedicalMurdersaurus 9:30 pm Defense-stration Swervester 9:31 pm She definitely was making a ppoint opatoes 9:31 pm ... Yeah, pretty much NoodlesAtNight 9:31 pm [[She could not have made a more obvious one even with a whetstone.]] verdigrisprowl 9:31 pm And his "philosophy," if you can call it that, is... mm. NoodlesAtNight 9:32 pm [[Go on?]] opatoes 9:32 pm Go see your bff, Jim. Swervester 9:33 pm Don' seem fine MedicalMurdersaurus 9:33 pm ((give penguin a sincere hug and he'll do anything you want, Jim)) opatoes 9:34 pm Jim come on NoodlesAtNight 9:34 pm ((pfff)) opatoes 9:34 pm ... Man, go see the magician verdigrisprowl 9:35 pm *hesitates.* ... I... have very little respect for most people who complain about being cogs in machines. verdigrisprowl 9:37 pm ((you're right, you CAN tell which joker he's channeling. right now we've got heath ledger.)) opatoes 9:37 pm ... Man, he's really easy to manipulate Swervester 9:38 pm //i don't even remember ledger's joker that well rip opatoes 9:38 pm Like the first guy to come up to him and be like "I believe in you, do this" and he eats it up opatoes 9:39 pm Just barge in MedicalMurdersaurus 9:39 pm ((he did the growly monologuing about a past story thing a lot. But it worked for Heath because his stories were contradictory. With Jerome, they are true stories so it misses the mark.)) verdigrisprowl 9:39 pm ((mainly the "monologuing about tragic past stories to imminent victims" thing)) verdigrisprowl 9:40 pm ((YEAH THAT)) NoodlesAtNight 9:40 pm [[Ahh. Petrex history in play, yes?]] *Tilts his head.* [[Not everyone is content with such arrangements, of course, but... he supposes it depends on what the machine in question is. This one does have some right to want out of the one he was in, or so it sounds.]] opatoes 9:40 pm oh no NoodlesAtNight 9:41 pm {{Him easy to manipulate because him desperate. Need approval. It easy believe first good promise if all life bad. It gift from Primus.}}
{{That what it looking like.}} verdigrisprowl 9:41 pm A fraction Petrex. A fraction abundant experience with the kind of people who make complaints like that. A fraction common sense and my own life experience ever sense. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:42 pm *glances over at bird and blinks slowly, that was a lot of analysis of something that was flowing right past him as he waited for gore* NoodlesAtNight 9:42 pm *Soundwave nods.* NoodlesAtNight 9:43 pm *And Laserbeak occasionally has her moments.* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:43 pm *doesn't have his moments and doesn't follow any of what she said to a next step* You Bird see a magician before? : > opatoes 9:44 pm ... Man, is that the only entertainment they got? They could've gotten... A bouncy house? Or something? NoodlesAtNight 9:44 pm {{Yes. Many time.}} MedicalMurdersaurus 9:44 pm What BEST trick??? : V opatoes 9:44 pm Uh oh verdigrisprowl 9:44 pm People like that don't seem to understand that "being a cog" means "being a part of a society." verdigrisprowl 9:45 pm If you're not a cog in a machine, then you're a useless cog lying on the ground. NoodlesAtNight 9:45 pm {{Best trick..... best trick saw him bot in half. That one, brother do. Heh heh.}} NoodlesAtNight 9:46 pm [[Ahh. Now he sees what you're getting at.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:46 pm PFF! Him Buzzsaw not a MAGICIAN! kEHHEHEH! Swervester 9:46 pm Is he hitting on her MedicalMurdersaurus 9:46 pm ((Alfred knows what's uuuuupppp)) verdigrisprowl 9:47 pm The opposite of being a cog in a machine isn't being free, being powerful, being liberated to do whatever nasty thing you want. It's being a hermit. NoodlesAtNight 9:47 pm [[What, then, would you call him? If he is neither cog nor hermit.]] *Quite curious now* NoodlesAtNight 9:48 pm ((alfred does indeed know)) verdigrisprowl 9:48 pm He IS a cog. He's just a poorly-shaped one that senselessly breaks the cogs around it. opatoes 9:49 pm This... is going to go really badly NoodlesAtNight 9:49 pm [[Hm. Then we'll have to hope there is a repair human present.]] NoodlesAtNight 9:50 pm {{Uh-oh. Him gonna get Buzzsaw treatment, neheheh.}} Swervester 9:50 pm This concerns me NoodlesAtNight 9:50 pm *Laserbeak begins whistling a funeral dirge* verdigrisprowl 9:50 pm ... Trap door. NoodlesAtNight 9:50 pm [[Hah]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:50 pm *snickers and watches Bird out of the corner of his optic (probably more than he watches the show)* NoodlesAtNight 9:52 pm {{Booooo. That boring.}} MedicalMurdersaurus 9:52 pm Them do with no box next time kehheheh NoodlesAtNight 9:52 pm [[We wouldn't have much of a show if he perished, would we, Laserbeak.]] verdigrisprowl 9:52 pm Oh, HE'S going to die. verdigrisprowl 9:53 pm They're going after major political figures—the mayor, the police. NoodlesAtNight 9:53 pm [[Of course. Deputy mayors are next in line should the original go missing. Which has happened.]] verdigrisprowl 9:53 pm Billionaires too, apparently. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:54 pm Them bad at shooting keheh NoodlesAtNight 9:54 pm [[Naturally. If he is mad that his family built the city and was wiped off the map after doing so, then he will want to go for those who currently lay claim to it.]] Swervester 9:54 pm Given how corrupt Gotham is, the billioniares probably ARe major political players. NoodlesAtNight 9:54 pm [[And what Swerve has said. Quite the observation, mech.]] NoodlesAtNight 9:56 pm [[...Ah.]] Swervester 9:56 pm I see. verdigrisprowl 9:56 pm Aha. opatoes 9:56 pm ... Man, no wonder he got rejected from acting school NoodlesAtNight 9:57 pm [[Primus. /Ratbat/ was less obvious than this.]] Swervester 9:57 pm He's awfully aware of the camera, it's coming across really cheesy act. opatoes 9:57 pm ... How obvious was Ratbat? Like- any specific stories? SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:57 pm *snrk* verdigrisprowl 9:57 pm ... *mumbles* thought he was pretty good. Swervester 9:58 pm It just sounded really scripted, is all. NoodlesAtNight 9:58 pm [[He was, up until he turned straight to the camera.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:59 pm *claps* NoodlesAtNight 9:59 pm [[A move clearly designed to ensure that the city knew his face. Someone who didn't care about that would not have turned.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:59 pm ((Did the writers forget she left him or are we supposed to think her brains are that scrambled?)) NoodlesAtNight 10:00 pm ((the latter. she thinks she can go back to him)) [[They would be too busy confronting the villain to bother with anything else.]] opatoes 10:01 pm ... Man, Alfred could've dealed with him just fine I bet NoodlesAtNight 10:01 pm ((bah the audio got mildly desynced. sorry)) opatoes 10:02 pm Bruce. Alfred knew how to make a bomb from memory- he's probably gonna be fine Swervester 10:02 pm Magician's knife or real knifw? Oh. Real? NoodlesAtNight 10:02 pm [[Very real.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 10:02 pm DEAD verdigrisprowl 10:03 pm ((WELL, I SUPPOSE HE'S NOT THE JOKER)) NoodlesAtNight 10:03 pm *Nudges Prowl.* [[Trap door.]] verdigrisprowl 10:03 pm *sharp laugh* NoodlesAtNight 10:03 pm (( 😃 )) opatoes 10:03 pm ... Wait, if he's not the Joker, who is? NoodlesAtNight 10:04 pm [[Not quite the laugh Penguin had in mind, he imagines.]] [[And he has no idea.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 10:05 pm ((becasue penguin <3s him)) opatoes 10:06 pm Dracula Cobblepot MedicalMurdersaurus 10:06 pm ((seriously how do none of the characters see the way penguin LIGHTS UP when jim walks in the room siiiiiiigh)) NoodlesAtNight 10:06 pm {{Temper, temper}} SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:06 pm Don't throw things in front of your subordinates. At least walk into the bathroom, first. NoodlesAtNight 10:06 pm ((they're all blind... as a bat. dohoho)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:07 pm ((hue hue hue)) NoodlesAtNight 10:07 pm *...Has a thought. Will keep that thought silent for now.* Swervester 10:08 pm She's standing with her boyfriend! MedicalMurdersaurus 10:08 pm ((gordon's face)) NoodlesAtNight 10:08 pm {{Neheh. Awkwaaaard.}} opatoes 10:08 pm Alfred is unstoppable! MedicalMurdersaurus 10:08 pm What awkward? NoodlesAtNight 10:08 pm {{Him Alfred like her Lee. Him Alfred not know her got sweetspark already.}} MedicalMurdersaurus 10:09 pm Oh. *doesn't get it* NoodlesAtNight 10:09 pm *Well, she's not explaining more than that.* MedicalMurdersaurus 10:09 pm *would moon over Bird even if Bird had a bf so...* Swervester 10:10 pm Oh NoodlesAtNight 10:10 pm [][][]Poisons the well.[][][] Swervester 10:11 pm Um. MedicalMurdersaurus 10:11 pm ((I know we talk about queer coding villains but, man, are there any queer good guys in this show?)) opatoes 10:11 pm Uh. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:12 pm *the dragon stretches* Goodnight, Soundwave, everyone. Thanks for having me! NoodlesAtNight 10:12 pm ((not as i can really recall offhand; this IS a fox network show unfortunately. but they do give us way more than we have on any other show, some who do good things at times, and many of the actors are, so i take it)) Swervester 10:12 pm //unfortunate MedicalMurdersaurus 10:12 pm ((I'm glad for canon gays and bis regardless)) NoodlesAtNight 10:12 pm ((most of the cast is pretty woke tbh)) [[Goodnight dragon.]] Swervester 10:13 pm I better head out too. Night all. NoodlesAtNight 10:13 pm [[Goodnight, Swerve.]] verdigrisprowl 10:13 pm ((you promised me a Specific Ship and I am Awaiting that ship. idc if they're villains i am Ready)) MedicalMurdersaurus 10:13 pm Movie done. You Bird want to candy? 😆 NoodlesAtNight 10:13 pm ((all in due time 😄 ))
{{Yes! Bird go candy. Swoop have... some. Three piece.}} verdigrisprowl 10:13 pm (("idc" i say like their villainness isn't also a draw)) NoodlesAtNight 10:14 pm ((same)) MedicalMurdersaurus 10:14 pm It Bird candy. Me Swoop give. : > NoodlesAtNight 10:14 pm ((half-assed spoiler: they also do something that pissed off the fanboys A LOT and are unapologetic about it being a first so ye)) opatoes 10:14 pm I should get some rest, too. Thank you for the show, Soundwave! Uh. And- sorry about the couch. I can give you a new couch- or if you just want credits, I can actually do that now! verdigrisprowl 10:14 pm ((you had me at "pissed off the fanboys")) NoodlesAtNight 10:14 pm ((that's s3 tho)) MedicalMurdersaurus 10:14 pm ((penguin better smooch jim fully on screen )) opatoes 10:15 pm ... wait, baking pie without a recipe? ... I. I'm gonna have to see that later NoodlesAtNight 10:15 pm [[You're welcome. Credits will be fine.]] opatoes 10:15 pm Can do, then! Also, you up for flying later? NoodlesAtNight 10:15 pm {{Swoop still can have three piece. Him Primus say so.}} *Maybe he'll believe that.* NoodlesAtNight 10:16 pm [[We will see. He has been... tired, lately. Perhaps one of the birds will see fit to join you.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 10:16 pm Primus? Keh! *assumes she's joking, he's Ratchet's kid after all, he's got NEGATIVE religious education* opatoes 10:17 pm Tired? You're doing okay- right? NoodlesAtNight 10:18 pm [[Yes. Just a great deal to think about. It will pass.]] {{Yep. You see, Bird show. Come on!}} *Float float. Toward the stairs she goes!* MedicalMurdersaurus 10:18 pm Kay! *scampers along after his borby crush* opatoes 10:18 pm 'Cause you know, if you need help with anything, you can send me a comm- even if you just wanna read or something. NoodlesAtNight 10:19 pm [[Thank you. That - is actually an important offer to him.]] *That hurt to say, but he got it out.* opatoes 10:19 pm ... Anyway, I've gotta go. I've gotta try to figure out flying and stuff. Have a good night, though. NoodlesAtNight 10:19 pm [[Do not fly high off the ground. Stay low. Very low.]] opatoes 10:19 pm ... It is? Like I said, feel free to take it whenever you wanna talk or need a distraction or something. opatoes 10:20 pm You got it! Man- years ago, you probably would've told me the exact opposite. Weird, right? NoodlesAtNight 10:20 pm [[/Very./]] opatoes 10:20 pm Anyways, night, Soundwave. NoodlesAtNight 10:20 pm [[Goodnight.]] verdigrisprowl 10:21 pm ... You let me believe that's a Starscream with a Smokescreen's vocalizer. He's not. NoodlesAtNight 10:22 pm [[...He thought you understood what he was saying.]] verdigrisprowl 10:22 pm What? No. I asked if Starscream's vocalizer had been altered, you confirmed it was likely. *he is :[* NoodlesAtNight 10:23 pm *Thhhhis explains why Prowl took that explanation so well. It was a failed one.* verdigrisprowl 10:24 pm *:[* NoodlesAtNight 10:24 pm [[He said he didn't know what all they'd done, but that they /had/ done things, and that it was Smokescreen's world. He thought-- never mind what he thought. He did an insufficient job of clarifying.]] verdigrisprowl 10:25 pm You could have clarified that it was a Smokescreen with a Starscream body. I spent all night thinking he was Starscream. What if I'd /talked/ to him? He'd start thinking he could get away with talking to /me/ if he puts on a disguise first. NoodlesAtNight 10:26 pm [[He should have. He did not, and he should have. He is sorry. You are correct. That had the potential to ruin your disconnection from Smokescreen. He did not and would never intend to interfere with such a choice.]] verdigrisprowl 10:28 pm *nods* ... Accepted. NoodlesAtNight 10:28 pm *The tiniest of nods.* NoodlesAtNight 10:29 pm [[That mech suffers more abuse at their hands than any other he knows about. He would interfere, but he does not know how; he no longer has any devices capable of blocking their work. The few he had were from sympathetic members of their species to start with, and he could not understand how they worked.]] verdigrisprowl 10:29 pm Mm. NoodlesAtNight 10:30 pm [[If you ever wonder if they have done something to him, chances are that it is so. Guard yourself accordingly.]] *That wasn't to gain sympathy for Smokescreen, mind. That was to note that it's common and Soundwave has no way to protect Prowl from it from the side, other than to note that.* verdigrisprowl 10:31 pm Mm. *that's quite enough of banana-adjacent topics. leans harder on soundwave in an effort to distract him.* NoodlesAtNight 10:32 pm *Doesn't know what to make of the Mms. Fidget.* [[Perhaps he should--]] *Oh. And now he's confused.* [[...All right.]] *Leans on Prowl. Is this what he's supposed to do now? He honestly isn't sure anymore.* verdigrisprowl 10:32 pm *he'll take it.* NoodlesAtNight 10:35 pm [[...He hopes the Gordon human does not give in.]] verdigrisprowl 10:35 pm He already has. NoodlesAtNight 10:37 pm [[More. Give in more. It's not--]] *Shakes his head a little.* [[He could do better than this. It's not impossible.]] NoodlesAtNight 10:38 pm [[Our society and species are infinitely more difficult to work with and you threw Fuse out. It is /not/ impossible.]] verdigrisprowl 10:39 pm ... I also hope he moves back up. I—understand his position. NoodlesAtNight 10:39 pm *Nodding.* [[He hopes so as well.]] NoodlesAtNight 10:40 pm [[He does not get the time to hear about as much in your department as he once did. It's - it goes well? What of Minus?]] verdigrisprowl 10:42 pm *optics flicker a bit brighter* Minus is doing well. Thus far she's been learning how things work inside of the department—paperwork and such—but I've been able to send her out with more experienced officers on a couple of calls with next to no risk of violence. Cleaning graffiti and such. NoodlesAtNight 10:45 pm *Oh. Oh, that's better. He found a good subject. Thank Primus.*
[[Good. Better that she learn there are other ways to handle things. Of course, he himself would leave the graffiti reading "Prowl is Right"...]] NoodlesAtNight 10:47 pm [[But he is far more morally malleable than she will need to be, and it is best that she learn from you and your officers. It does no good to have anyone else clean a wall just to put a bug in it.]] *Pause.* [[For one thing, suddenly clean spots are far too noticeable for that sort of activity.]] verdigrisprowl 10:47 pm Graffiti is graffiti. *still, pleased.* NoodlesAtNight 10:49 pm [[Perhaps. Buzzsaw would have his head if he did not ask this--]] *Twist.* [[Would you consider designating free spaces where it is allowed? Where anyone may go to express themselves, so that their voices are not fully restricted and you have less to clean elsewhere?]] NoodlesAtNight 10:50 pm [[Volunteered locations, agreed upon by many.]] verdigrisprowl 10:51 pm That's not up to me, but I'd be for it. NoodlesAtNight 10:51 pm *Brightens. It doesn't have to be up to Prowl, exactly; it just has to be something he wouldn't fight against if it were proposed to those who DID control it.* verdigrisprowl 10:52 pm I'd recommend putting them far inside and far outside the city walls, though. Or else the only thing anyone will be expressing is how much they loathe the opposite faction, until ten bots show up with purple and red paint cans and start a turf war. verdigrisprowl 10:53 pm That's what most of the graffiti we've been dealing with is—factional rhetoric, mainly along Metroplex's wall, the divider between Autobot and Decepticon neighborhoods. NoodlesAtNight 10:57 pm *Nodding.* [[He has noticed. He still disagrees with the divisions, but until that can be made to change...]] *Frustrated, sharp motion with one hand.* [[Until then, it would be helpful. And to him as well. Public opinion tracking.]] NoodlesAtNight 10:58 pm [[He is pleased to know you are not against it. That will make carefully whispering into the right audials so much easier.]] verdigrisprowl 10:58 pm Is all that intrigue necessary to get a few walls to spray paint on? NoodlesAtNight 10:59 pm [[After what he did? It may be. Besides, our leader is... well. He does not need to describe Starscream to /you./ ]] NoodlesAtNight 11:00 pm *Holds up a hand. Correction, please hold.* [[What 'he' did. He knows. Still. Perception is what it is.]] verdigrisprowl 11:01 pm Hm. Just don't try to sell it as a solution to graffiti. Or else when graffiti continues to exist in places other than the art walls, someone will try to use that as an excuse to take the walls down. NoodlesAtNight 11:03 pm [[Noted and highlighted. He will avoid that topic.]] *Settling down a bit now.* [[Have you had any ideas of your own? Any unusual improvements that might make your - or Minus' - life easier?]] verdigrisprowl 11:04 pm ... More new hires to replace the masses I'm about to fire. But that's for me to find, not you. ((brb)) NoodlesAtNight 11:05 pm ((np)) NoodlesAtNight 11:09 pm *Brightens more. Oh, this IS a good conversation now.* [][][]Masses?[][][] *Masses is a word meant for big numbers. Prowl does not use numbers carelessly. Soundwave is almost in Prowl's lap, he's leaned in so close. Curiosity!* verdigrisprowl 11:13 pm Mhm. You gave me quite a long list to work through. NoodlesAtNight 11:15 pm [[And you are--]] *He almost doesn't dare talk about it, like mentioning it will somehow make the multiverse force Prowl to go back on all of this. But he can't NOT speak about it. It's too different. Too good.* [[You are finding what you need? They really will be fired and tried?]] verdigrisprowl 11:17 pm *the ghost of a smile* I've got a couple of mad geniuses in Internal Affairs. We're digging up mountains of dirt. Of course, you're only privy to this information as the head of Four I. verdigrisprowl 11:18 pm But expect some comms from them in the near future. They'll be looking for some footage to confirm their findings. NoodlesAtNight 11:20 pm [[Nothing you have said or will say passes his lips. Obviously. Or his mind.]]
*He's going to be dizzy with shock in a moment. Digging up mountains of dirt. Masses of foul cops getting tossed out on their afts. Actually getting to /help/ with the footage he collects--*
[[And he's - that--]] *One moment. Gathering together again.* [[They will actually agree to trust him as a source?]] verdigrisprowl 11:23 pm You're the optics and audials of Iacon. Collecting footage and passing it where it needs to go is your job. NoodlesAtNight 11:24 pm *He pulls away, but only so he can sit back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. This is nothing short of amazing, to him.* verdigrisprowl 11:26 pm ... Did— Did you not know that's part of your job. NoodlesAtNight 11:28 pm [[Collecting and forwarding footage has been his job for longer than he will bother calculating. It is only that he did not think anyone else would see past his name.]]
*And now he's sitting up again. Look at all this movement. You have got him all stirred up, Prowl. Nicely done.* [[Thank you. And them.]] *Close once more.* [[This is what should have been before. He does not know if you can understand, having always been on the other side, but...]] NoodlesAtNight 11:29 pm *That's just gonna hang there. He'll nod. Hopefully Prowl gets it.* verdigrisprowl 11:30 pm What—kicking out the cops that abuse their position? I was demoted for saying we should be doing that. NoodlesAtNight 11:32 pm [[You were?]] verdigrisprowl 11:34 pm Well—not JUST that. For saying that the enforcer system was corrupt and that for the sake of Cybertron we needed to clean up. verdigrisprowl 11:36 pm I could get away with speaking my mind under Sentinel. He didn't agree with me, but he—respected me. I could be outspoken. As soon as he died, I was shoved in a backroom to crunch numbers. NoodlesAtNight 11:36 pm *And Sentinel has just been semi-begrudgingly given one (1) single point of respect.* NoodlesAtNight 11:37 pm *Which feels very wrong somehow, but Prowl isn't allowed to lie to him about things that important, and so he's just going to have to suck it up and acknowledge it. Which he has. With one whole point. For a PRIME.* verdigrisprowl 11:38 pm Orion agreed too, but by the time he was in charge, it was a moot point. NoodlesAtNight 11:39 pm *Oh god, that's an even more grit-fanged point. He really doesn't like having to give that one away.* [[...If ever he finds a way to time travel, he will consider finding your younger self and getting you into a higher, safer position.]] NoodlesAtNight 11:42 pm [[For now, if you have no objections, he would show the depths of his appreciation for all you are by offering you... nearly anything you could ask for, he thinks. Within mostly reasonable - and legal - limits.]] verdigrisprowl 11:43 pm Oh, don't waste your time. If you ever find a way to time travel, kill Nominus, Proteus, and Ratbat, get Shockwave appointed to Prime—BEFORE he loses his face, mind—watch him carefully to ensure he isn't messing with any ores, and shut Megatron up after After The Ark but before Towards Peace. NoodlesAtNight 11:45 pm *He doesn't much care what it is. The world's largest collection of police dramas? A night of having every tiny wish catered to? Someone who needs a punch in the teeth to get the daylights scared out of them? What, Prowl? What? Anything. Tell him.*
[[Oh, those were all already planned. He does listen to you, you know.]] [[Except the part about Megatron. He is not yet familiar enough with that mech's writings to have thought of that himself.]] verdigrisprowl 11:46 pm His early writing was fine, before he slid off the rails into xenophobic apocalyptic extremism. verdigrisprowl 11:47 pm ... And I'm not wholly sure about Shockwave. Take that one with a grain of salt. He TALKED like an anti-Functionist progressive, but evidence suggests he was working on his ore project since long before his empurata, so that could all have been a façade. verdigrisprowl 11:48 pm Put him in charge, jump a few million years forward, see how that goes, jump back and take him back out if need be. NoodlesAtNight 11:52 pm [[As you recommend.]] *Soundwave dips pretty low there. He is being absolutely serious. Nothing about his mental voice says otherwise.* verdigrisprowl 11:52 pm *Prowl has too much power.* NoodlesAtNight 11:53 pm *Not so much. As he said, he was already thinking about quite a lot of that on his own.* *They've got to test tampering with timelines sooner or later, after all.* verdigrisprowl 11:54 pm ... I shouldn't be advocating assassinating senators. *a sentence like that is usually followed up with a retraction of the original advocation. it isn't.* NoodlesAtNight 11:55 pm *After a moment more:* [[...If that should mean it changes this in the process,]] *Gesturing to the space between them.* [[Then he will try to find you again. Or at least to see to it that you are happy.]]
*But that's too personal, isn't it? He quickly keeps going.* [[The senators in question are not alive now. You do nothing but partake in a thought exercise.]] *And that is his official word on it.* NoodlesAtNight 11:56 pm [[Besides, he has his own mind and is capable of acting on it by himself.]] verdigrisprowl 11:57 pm Pff. Just track me down, hand me a magnet, and tell me I'm neat. My standards were extremely low back then. NoodlesAtNight 11:58 pm *Disgruntled huff.* [[He will not be so lazy and cheap. You will be treated the way you deserve to be treated, and no less.]] Today verdigrisprowl 12:00 am Don't be TOO nice to me, I don't think I could handle that much positive attention back then. NoodlesAtNight 12:01 am [[Then he would be slow and patient. After all, the planet wouldn't be going anywhere anymore ... ideally.]] verdigrisprowl 12:02 am Trust me. Magnets and a single bland compliment are the best way to start. NoodlesAtNight 12:03 am [[Very well. But he can do better than that /now,/ if you will let him?]] verdigrisprowl 12:03 am ... All right. *a tad nervously. How effusive is this going to get.* NoodlesAtNight 12:05 am *That depends. How does Prowl take to being picked up and carried over Soundwave's shoulder like a sack?* verdigrisprowl 12:06 am *Oh. Very well. Carry on.* NoodlesAtNight 12:11 am *So it shall be.* [[Your department is in good hands, he has an intriguing forensic series bookmarked upstairs on his workstation, and there is an octopus-shaped magnet waiting for you on the small stand by the door. Let us be off.]]
*Already walking.* [[Oh, and he intends to perform a magic trick for you.]] *Huff* [[Before the night is done, he will raise the temperature back at your apartment without ever touching the thermostat.]] verdigrisprowl 12:12 am *actually laughs* I look forward to seeing this trick. NoodlesAtNight 12:12 am *Joins in and closes the stairwell door behind them.*
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Thundering Trivia
Whew bet y’all thought you’d not see another bit of writing from me ever again, huh? Sorry for the absence and hopefully I can keep the stories going again. Cute little short (well short for me) story dealing with Travis and Riley on a little outing of theirs out in Zion Canyon. Bit of mild fluff, safe for work, and something new for any fans out there to learn about Travis.
Special thanks to @zoey-and-dakota for always encouraging me to strive with writings. The thoughts were always there, just couldn’t get my mind to make my fingers type. Story under cut due to length.
The sun was starting to set in Zion Canyon bringing with it a much needed coolness. Bright red and orange light streaked the sky while fighting a losing battle against the evening blues and purples taking their place. Off in the distance a thunderhead was forming with its anvil shaped mass reaching high up into the atmosphere. Brief flashes of lightning could be seen within as the clouds making up the approaching storm continued to grow and swell.
Riley was leaning peacefully against the wooden door frame to the cabin that he and Travis were staying at. He watched the skies carefully and figured the storm would be getting to their location very soon. A sudden blast of cold air hit him from the downdrafts and he could feel the faint hint of rain on his face. This certainly was not going to be one of the gentle showers that he’s previously experienced here in the Canyon.
It’s been almost a week since Travis brought him here saying they both were due for a change of scenery. He didn’t say where they were going as he wanted it to be a surprise. Having a car in their lives meant taking trips and exploring the wasteland would be much easier and pleasurable. They could now travel farther and stay at their destination for a longer period of time as a result. Although Travis missed cruising on his motorcycle, it wasn’t practical for the couple for extended trips like this. Once plans were set and the car was packed with supplies, the two men headed off on their newest adventure.
The drive through the desert offered scenery was flat and barren for the most part, exactly what Riley would expect. However, the closer they came to Zion the more things changed with towering rock formations and deep ravines. Riley still doesn’t know how he managed to maneuver the car down the twisting dirt roads leading far into the canyon, but he did so semi-flawlessly leaving only a few smashed cactus in his wake. At a certain point, Travis guided him through an area which was once a pre-war camping ground and to a lone cabin perched on a cliff.
After parking, Riley got out of the car and had his breath taken away by the splendor and beauty surrounding them. Travis smirked to himself as he gathered up their packs and headed to his cabin. Even if he wanted to, Riley couldn’t move from his spot. He was too taken in by the tall canyon walls glowing bright orange in the brilliant sunlight. Scattered trees dotted the landscape and he could faintly hear the roar of a stream down below. He was brought out of the enchantment feeling Travis’ hand on his shoulder. Giving the redhead a kiss on the neck, Travis told him to come rest and cool off inside the cabin. There would be plenty of time for exploring and sightseeing later.
Riley reluctantly stepped away and followed his partner inside the log cabin. While unpacking, Travis told him the lands here were virtually untouched by the bombs and radiation, a complete hidden paradise for centuries. He happened to discover it on one of his motorcycle trips and made sure to put the location data in his pipboy for future use. Since then he’s made good friends with the Tribals that populated the canyon. On return visits he would bring them goods from New Vegas such as tools and knives to help make their lives a bit easier. In turn they offered him lodging here whenever he desires.
In the days that followed Travis showed Riley around the canyon and introduced him to his Tribal friends. The couple also spent long hours fishing or swimming in the clear non-radiated waters of the canyon. There was always so much to see and do, but almost like clockwork a gentle rain would happen in the afternoon causing their exploring or fun to halt for a few hours. However, today’s shower was obviously not going to be little or gentle. Giving one last look at the approaching storm, Riley stepped back inside the cabin.
Travis was sitting at the kitchen table cleaning his rifle, Medicine Stick, and looked up when he heard Riley shut the door. “Gonna get rain, huh? I can smell it. Well, at least I think I smell it. This gun oil frigging reeks,” he grimaced while pushing the bottle of cleaner off to the side. “Why can’t things that clean actually smell good? I mean how could something that stinks so bad do good? Ugh!”
“I suppose the thinking is the more powerful the smell, the more powerful the cleaning it provides. Anyway, the rains might be more a thunderstorm by the looks of it. Lots of lightning in this one. In fact I’ll say it’s going to be one hell of a storm,” Riley replied as he eagerly made his way to a window. It’s been a long time since he saw a storm that wouldn’t include radiation like back in Boston. “Are these frequent in these parts? Like, is there what’s considered a storm season here where you can expect them every day at a certain time just like the showers?”
Riley turned hearing the loud scraping of chair legs on the wood floor as Travis pushed himself abruptly away from the table. The courier looked slightly flustered as he kept his gaze focused on the rifle before he frantically looked around the cabin, crystal blue eyes wide. “Travis? You alright? Are the fumes getting to you?” Riley asked.
“Y-yeah...uh….” Travis loped to the door and pulled down a hinged wood board to barricade it shut. “Can’t have this thing blowing open if it’s going to storm like you said.” He ran a hand through his black hair and shot Riley an uneasy grin. “You thirsty? Want a beer?”
Giving a quick nod Riley got quickly sidetracked as the angry rumble of thunder could be heard echoing through the canyon. A heavy gust of wind slammed into their cabin making it shudder in its wake. “Hoo boy!” Riley breathed excitedly directing his attention back to the window. “I hope this won’t bring floods or anything. I know we’re up high enough, but those people at riverside will be…” he paused seeing Travis was now pulling the curtains shut and tucking their sides into the window frame.
For a fleeting moment he wondered if Travis was afraid, but he quickly pushed it aside as they’ve dealt with a few small storms before. However, maybe that was the key. Previous storms were little rain dumpers with scant bolts of lightning and gentle booms of distant thunder. This powerful storm was going to have them right in the middle of the mayhem. The skies now grew dark almost as if it were night and the winds continued to slam against the cabin and make the door rattle.
Meanwhile, Travis continued to cover the windows, but was halted when he got to the one Riley was staring out of. “Umm...precaution. In case the window busts we won’t be getting glass or rain in here.”
Riley obliged and moved out of the way and that’s when he noticed the slight tremble in Travis’ hands while he pulled the curtains shut. He watched his partner closely and noticed the subtle indications that Travis was stressing about the approaching storm, but doing his best to hide it. Not wanting to bring attention to it, especially if the assumption was a mistake, Riley carefully chose his conversation to see Travis’ reaction. “I’m glad we’re in this cabin. I’m sure getting caught out in a storm like this would suck being in a tent. Has that ever happened to you?”
“N-no. No, if I am out and about and see a storm coming I try and get somewheres better than a crummy tent,” Travis replied while putting the finishing touches on his window covering task. Shooting Riley a nervous glance, he twitched his moustache and tried to muster up a smile. “Oh, I forgot to get you that beer.” Striding back to the fridge, Travis snagged two bottles out of it and proceeded to make his way back to Riley. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s ok,” Riley smiled as he took the bottle and twisted off the cap. He was about to put it to his lips for a drink when a bright white light filtered through the spaces between the cabin’s slats. Almost immediately following, a deep, resounding boom of thunder filled the air making the very foundation of the cabin shudder. The event sent a jolt of excitement through the redhead, but seeing the momentary change of Travis’ expression from strained relaxed to fearful verified Riley’s assumption. Travis was afraid of the storm.
Frowning and doing his best to hide his alarm, Travis made his way back to the table and began putting away the gun cleaning supplies. He knew Riley must have noticed the shift in his behavior and attitude and that only served to upset him more. Travis had no secrets to hide from his lover, but his irrational fear over thunderstorms was embarrassing in his eyes. Riley knew plenty of other things that caused Travis to be afraid such as cazadores and being restrained in any way. However, fear of thunderstorms almost seemed a bit childish and not something Travis would readily admit to anyone, not even Riley.
While Travis did his best to calmly place the cap back on the bottle of cleaning solution, another flash of light filtered through the cracks making him flinch and bite his lower lip in anticipation for the thunder. His unwanted wish was granted as the boom made the cabin shudder once again. The thunder also served as an announcement to the rain which began to pound against the windows sounding as if someone were tossing pebbles against them.
Seeing Travis obviously stressing over the forces of mother nature outside, Riley pondered what he could do to help his partner relax. He knew the worst thing he could do is question Travis about this as it would bring unwanted attention to the fears and no doubt upset Travis all the more. Getting an idea, Riley made his way towards their bed and grabbed a blanket. “You know, nothing beats snuggling under a blanket during a storm. Would you like to join me?” he asked while taking a seat on the couch and placing the blanket on his lap.
Furrowing his brow at the suggestion, Travis turned towards Riley. He hesitated for a moment as he wanted to get his supplies properly put away, but seeing the arched eyebrows and sincere look on Riley’s face, Travis couldn’t exactly resist. Setting the gun cleaning kit back on the table, Travis snatched up his beer and joined Riley on the couch. “Is clothing optional?” he nervously jested while taking a seat next to him.
“Well...if it makes you feel more comfortable, by all means,” Riley responded with a chuckle while draping the blanket over them and tucking it around their shoulders. However, Travis didn’t strip and instead snuggled against Riley’s side. Adjusting his position, Riley put his arm around Travis’ shoulders and held him close. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Travis’ cheek right as another boom of thunder sounded. He felt Travis tense and slightly shudder cementing his assumption about Travis being scared.
From past experience, Riley knew the best way to get Travis focused on something when he was unhappy or uncomfortable was to talk to him about historical pre-war topics. At first he thought he’d discuss weather conditions back in the days such as blizzards or hurricanes, but then realized mentioning extreme weather during a storm might not be the wisest of choices. As thunder once again rocked the wood cabin, Riley suddenly got an idea for an interesting topic.
“Back in ancient times some cultures believed that the weather was controlled by their gods. Some of the more well known ones were Thor of Norse lore and Zeus from Greece. They were the gods of thunder as well as a few other responsibilities. Thor was a protector of mankind and wielded his powers for good. Zeus, on the other hand, would sometimes hurtle lightning bolts at the…” Riley stopped. He wasn’t sure if telling Travis about gods who enjoyed tossing lightning to the earth down below or even zapping people for the hell of it would be appropriate at this time. He knew Travis wasn’t one to believe in such beings anyway, but it still was a bad idea.
Travis squirmed at Riley’s pause. “Earth?” he asked while closing his eyes to the recent flash of lightning that shone through the cracks.
“Well...for the most part, yes,” Riley reluctantly continued, but felt if Travis was asking questions he deserved them answered. “They’d also get sent down on people that disobeyed or displeased him.”
“What a dick,” Travis snickered. “Why did people always have these so called supreme beings that are always bent on snuffing ‘em out for whatever reason?”
“Not all of them were dicks,” Riley stated while gliding his hand lightly over Travis’ arm. “I’m sure the biggest reason they were created that way was to simply keep people in check. If people had some gigantic being looming over their life with the power to punish or destroy them if they misbehaved I’m quite sure they’d do their best to behave. Pretty much to keep an honest man honest so to speak.”
“Yeah...I reckon that makes sense. Still kinda stupid, though.” Adjusting his position, Travis poked his arm out from under the blanket so he could take a sip from his beer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Riley’s expression change and Travis couldn’t help but smirk. “Didn’t you see me with it? Had it since you invited me over. You want a sip?”
“No. No, that’s ok you…” Riley stopped speaking as thunder roared and made windows and any glass items in the cabin rattle loudly. Not wanting to be outdone, the rain intensified and made it seem as if they were camping under a waterfall instead of up on a cliff. When the rumble of thunder finally ended, Riley rested his head against Travis’ and continued to lightly glide his fingertips over the black hairs on Travis’ arm. “Well, if murderous and mighty humanoid deities aren’t your thing, maybe divine creatures would pique your interest instead?”
Finishing the last of his beer, Travis dropped it off the side of the couch to the floor with a hollow thunk. “Animals you mean?” he asked while settling back comfortably under the blanket and against his partner.
“Yes, animals. In Asian cultures like China, great dragons were the masters of the skies and a vast majority of them ruled the weather. In Egypt most of their gods had human bodies, but their heads were that of animals. Set, or Seth, was the god of chaos and also in charge of storms. It’s unclear what his animal was supposed to be, some say a jackal others say some sort of aardvark. But if you want to talk about gods being dicks, he was a big one.”
Travis giggled nervously and moved his hand down to squeeze Riley’s knee. “Bet he ain’t got nothing on you in the package department.”
Riley rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I said he is one, not has one,” he replied, giving Travis a poke in the ribs making him giggle all the more. “Anyway…” Riley continued while adjusting his glasses, a smile still on his face from Travis’ playful remark. “A great majority of the Natives from North and South America believed a giant bird caused the thunder and lightning by simply flapping its wings.”
“Does that mean the rains came from it taking a…”
“Don’t even go there!” Riley laughed then laughed harder as Travis returned the tickling he got. Almost as if disapproving of their behavior, a loud crackle of lightning tore apart the atmosphere followed immediately by a boom of thunder. Much to Riley’s surprise, the sights and sounds hardly phased Travis as he was too busy squirming under the blanket trying avoid Riley’s hands.
Once the tickle fight and squirming stopped, Riley took a deep breath and slowly exhaled to try and calm himself. “Now then, if I may continue.” He looked at Travis over the rims of his glasses and smirked seeing his lover’s eager and attentive expression. “I think besides most of the dragons, the Thunderbirds weren’t out to torment humans. They mostly were protectors and kept giant snakes from killing everyone and taking over the earth. Interestingly enough, throughout all the different tribes on the north and south continents, they all shared the belief of a Thunderbird.”
“I reckon I like the bird the best,” Travis chimed while changing his position so he was laying over Riley’s lap.
“How come?” Riley asked as he gathered Travis in his arms to help support him and keep him comfortable.
“Well, think about it. Almost everyone else was out to kill and punish mankind, torment them, or whatever. Then you get the birds. They seemed like they were more wanting to help people than destroy them.”
“Don’t forget that Thor was a protector of the people as were a lot of the dragons.” “See, that’s just it. Thor’s still a guy. Don’t care if he’s a god or not, he’s still humaniod and probably prone to fucking up or getting pissed off. Dragons too. I dunno...the birds just seem cool and helpful is all. Plus I think by two entire continents with different people all sharing similar beliefs and stuff about the birds shows they were pretty chill critters. Had the birds been assholes I think they’d have found something else to try and conjure up. People usually try not copy bad shit. Does that make sense?”
Riley grew silent for a moment and chewed on his lower lip while pondering what all Travis said. “Yes, in some crazy way it all does make sense. Man, you would have been a great student to have in my class back in the day. You always have strong interest in so much and ask pretty good questions too. Your thought process is really unique and imaginative to say the least.”
Travis grinned, but then sobered quickly while averting his gaze from Riley. “You do know I don’t...ummm...I’m sure you might have noticed, but I ain’t exactly fond of storms. Kinda scared about them, really. We ain’t never really experienced storms together outside of the casino or anything so I was able to hide my fear pretty good. Out here all the sights and sounds are like in your face and stuff.” He trailed off for a moment, his mind working a million miles an hour on how he wanted to word things. “Your little lecture about the ancient stuff really helped me a lot. Kept me distracted and kept me interested. Maybe later on I’d love to hear more details if you got them, especially about the birds or other Native lore.”
Smiling gently, Riley nodded and lightly touched the side of Travis’ face with his fingertips. “I’d be very happy to tell you about anything you’d like to know on the topic to the best of my knowledge.” Bowing his head down, Riley placed a tender kiss on Travis’ brow while wrapping his arms around him. “I’m also glad I was able to help you through your fears of the storm. It’s nothing to be ashamed of either. I figured something was very wrong with your change in behavior, but I wasn’t going to pry and make you more upset.”
“Thanks, Riles, I really appreciate it. Ain’t saying next storm comes along I won’t be bothered, but it’s good to know that I got you to help me through it.”
“Anytime, Travis. I’m more than happy to help you ride out the storms in any way you need.”
Narrowing his crystal blue eyes and allowing a lascivious grin to pull back his lips, Travis purred, “Hmmm...I know something much better I’d like to ride during a storm.”
“Oh, Travis,” Riley chuckled with a roll of his eyes.
~fin
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