#also i kind of hate tara strongs voice. fuck her too
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when i was a wee lad i hated applejack the most probably becose i found her annoying but rn i hate twilight the most sorry. fuck her and fuck her alicorn wings. my favorite rn is still rarity but applejack is a close second
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the chosen daughter // colby brock - chapter fourteen
A/N: sorry this took a long time to make. work has been kicking my ass recently and i’ve had like no time off. i finally get one after today so that’ll be nice. i’ll try to write more when i can. thank you to everyone that was so sweet when i came back, yall are seriously the best. as a treat, a special something finally happens in this chapter. alrighty, enjoy and lmk what you think !!
story description
taglist: @far-to-many-bands , @idfk-tbh-oops , @muted-mayham , @ughwhyislifesohard , @justtanerd , @ashyoungxblood , @cmburgos
trigger warning: cursing, angst, mentions of a massacre, surprise ending 👀
word count: 2385
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So, this is what you guys do when you have a day off? Lounge around and be lazy?” Tara huffed.
I glanced at all of us quickly. Sam and Kat were cuddled up on the end of the couch I was laying on. Jake was on the other, sprawled out, and Colby sat on top, his feet digging into the cushion where Jake laid his legs.
“What would you like us to do Tara?” Colby deadpanned.
“Well, I'm thirsty.” Tara turned to Jake, “Jakey, could you get me something from the fridge?”
“Get it yourself.” Jake mumbled, scrolling through his phone.
Tara barked. “Jake. Get me a blood bag and some vodka. I want to have a party.”
“You know if you're so thirsty, you could just drink from me.” Jake dared, getting up from the couch.
“No thanks. I'd rather drink from Sam than you. No offense, Kat.” Tara sassed, crossing her arms.
Kat shrugged. “None taken.”
“But Tara… that's not how it played out the last time.” Jake sang, smirking.
Tara punched Jake in the shoulder hard, all of us busting out laughing. Jake winced as he stumbled into the kitchen, digging in the fridge.
“Tara, you do realize it's only 3 in the afternoon. Ain't it a bit early to be drinking?” Colby stated.
“No. I'm just... pregaming.” Tara smiled innocently, sitting down where Jake had been.
Mike and Kevin busted through the door suddenly, slamming it shut and locking it hastily.
“Woah, where's the fire?” Sam broke in, sitting up with Kat in his arms.
“Go lock up the windows, Mike. I don't want there to be any way in.” Kevin motioned. Mike nodded his head, rushing to the windows.
“What's the problem?” Jake questioned.
“We just got word from a very reliable source that an elder is coming to LA.” Kevin informed.
“Are you sure it's not just Tara?” Sam asked.
Mike shook his head. “No one knows about her being an elder, so it can't be her.”
“How do you know your sources are telling the truth?” Sam slid out of Kat’s hold, standing up.
“Apparently, he already flew in a couple days ago. Some of our boys down at the airport saw him.” Kevin replied.
“Who?” Jake requested.
Kevin’s voice darkened. “It’s Rinaldi.”
I could feel everyone’s body stiffen at the name. Not a single breath was taken.
Tara’s eyes bore at the floor. “Well, I've just lost my appetite.”
“Wait, who's Rinaldi?” I puzzled, looking around at everyone.
Colby answered. “He's one of the most powerful elders. He was like the second or third vampire ever turned.”
Jake agreed. “He's fucking terrifying, bro. I heard if his eyes land on yours, he could make your head explode, spontaneous combustion style.”
“I'm surprised you know those words, Jake.” Tara joked, her voice remaining monotone.
“Okay, so he's a big deal. But why would he come here?” I doubted.
“Who knows? All I know is that him being even remotely near us isn't good news. So, we gotta take extra precaution. So Jade-” Sam began.
I held my hand up, finishing his sentence. “’Stay here for a while’…I might as well keep a bag here.”
“Or you could start paying rent.” Mike retorted calmly.
Colby scowled. “Me and Sam don't even pay rent.”
I rolled my eyes at Mike, turning back to everyone. “I know this might be a dumb question, but besides the fact that he is super strong, why is everyone scared of him?”
Mike sneered. “Tara. Do you have something to tell the class?”
“Fuck you, Mike.” Tara hissed.
“What is it, Tara? Do you know something?” I uttered, my voice weakening from my nerves.
Tara exhaled, her eyes on me. “Rinaldi is one of the worst vampires I know. He's the reason why the vampire population is so small.”
I furrowed my brow. “How does that make sense?”
“Back in 1872, he told a bunch of us elders that we should make a council, something to police the growing vampire population. He believed that a lot of vampires at the time were starting to get restless and wanted to come out to the public. The world was changing so fast, so they thought most people might be okay with vampires,” Tara chuckled sarcastically, her tongue clicking against her teeth. “I was against the council, mostly because I don't like running in groups and I hate authority. But also because that's not how most vampires felt. A lot wanted to stay hidden. But he made it very apparent that wasn't the case. So, the council was created. And by the summer of that year, the massacre happened.”
“A massacre?” I whispered, surprised.
“Rinaldi was working both sides. For some reason while creating the council, he was telling all the younger vampires that we elders were coming to attack them, take away their rights and kill them. He came at them as an elder against the council, when he was the whole reason it was a thing in the first place. The spirits are the ones who told me all of this, and I had warned that council that a war was gonna begin. They all laughed me off and told me I was lying. When the battle took place, so many vampires died, both elders and young. Our population went from over a thousand down all the way to a hundred. And of course, Rinaldi survived.” Tara fumed, her hands clenching harder with each word.
I gulped. “Holy shit.”
“After the massacre, every vampire that was left disappeared, moved away from each other. That way no one could attack them or know who they were. It wasn't until a hundred years later that the vampires that were still alive decided to start turning humans again.” Tara finished, relaxing her back against the couch.
Kevin nodded, crossing his arms. “I remember. It was a long time before I ever saw a vampire. I didn't even meet Mike until, what? 1982?”
My eyes widen. “Wait, Kevin, you were alive during the vampire massacre?”
“I fought in it. Or, was forced to. I was turned a year before the massacre.” Kevin recalled.
“And you two?” I glanced at Kat and Mike.
“Not until after. 1974.” Mike responded.
Kat chimed. “1983.”
Sam commented. “I'm dating a cougar.”
“Shut up.” Kat smacked his leg, a smile rising to his face.
“So that's why Rinaldi is terrifying. If he's here for some reason, it's not good. We have to be safe and stay as far away from him as we can.” Tara cautioned.
~ \/ \/ ~
After the lovely news of Rinaldi, I decided to take a nap before work, especially since now I was staying over the Trapp Haus longer than expected. When I finally woke up, I could hear the thumping of the club downstairs, but the rest of the apartment was silent. I slowly stumbled out of Sam's room, opening the door to the empty living space. The lights were dim, no one around.
“Hello? Anyone here?” I called out.
The continuous music from downstairs was the only response. I stared over at Colby's door, wondering if he was inside. I trudged over to his door, taking a deep breath.
“Colby?” I muttered.
Silence. I knocked three times, the door creaking open with the force of my hand.
I've never been inside his room before...
I flicked on the light, looking around at the unusual space. His room was a little messy, but nothing too crazy. His bed sheets and curtains were a dark black, his walls a deep shade of blue. A couple water bottles rested on his nightstand. His laptop sat haphazardly on his floor near his bed. His closet door was ajarred, clothes spilling out onto the floor.
“What are you doing in my room?”
I gasped, turning around to see Colby. His body was slightly tense, his eyes matching.
“Shit, sorry. I-I woke up and thought maybe you were in your room since no one was around.” I stuttered.
“I was downstairs helping Kevin get rid of an overly excited patron.” He revealed.
“Where's everyone else?” I queried, my arms crossing uncomfortably under his gaze.
“Sam and Jake are doing some research for a hunt. Kevin and Mike are downstairs, and Kat and Tara are out partying at Bloody.” He explained.
I bit my lip. “And you're here.”
“Someone has to protect you.” He remarked dryly, walking into the kitchen.
“Sorry.” I murmured.
“About what?” Colby glowered, leaning against the counter.
My eyes fell from his for a moment. “I mean, it's obvious that you don't want to be here... with me.”
Colby’s eyes softened as he fell silent, his hands holding the counter tight.
I turned to go back to Sam's room, only to be stopped by Colby's voice.
“That's not true. I like... having you around.” He interjected, “You have to know that.”
I exhaled, turning to face him again. I could feel my heart bang in my chest.
“You know, the other day there was this guy at my work, and he looked really sad. He and I got to talking and he asked me if I ever wanted something badly. Not something crazy hard to get, but something that's just out of my reach.” I stepped towards Colby, “And all I could think about was... you.”
Colby objected. “You shouldn't.”
“What? I shouldn't what?” I echoed.
“Think of me like that.” He shook his head.
“Why?” I demanded.
“Because I'm a monster. Do you know how easy it would be for me to lose control and kill you?” Colby threatened, closing the gap between us and getting in my face.
“You haven't done it before.” I argued.
Colby backed away at my words. “Yeah, but there's no guarantee that it won't happen. Plus, besides the fact that I crave your blood all the fucking time, I'm... a lost cause, Jade.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” I snapped, my hands resting on my hips.
“Whatever you think a relationship needs to have, you're not gonna get it from me. I'm damaged as hell. I trust little to no one. The kindness and love you deserve won't come from me. And you don't need something like that.” He scoffed.
“Then we take it slow, Colby. We don't have to fall headfirst into this. We can take our time. There is no time limit on this.” I ignored the aching memory in the back of my mind of Tara's reading.
“What makes you think I want to be with you anyway?” He jeered, his gaze pointing daggers at mine.
I growled. “Don't do that.”
“Do what?” Colby grunted.
“Try to be mean so you can push me away. I'm done walking on eggshells around you, Colby!” I exclaimed.
He groaned, racing to his room. “I-I can't do this right now.”
“I want you.”
He stopped abruptly, the muscles on his back tight.
“I want you, Colby. Even though you don't trust anyone, even though you could kill me. I still want you. I'm not gonna pretend I don't anymore.” I confessed.
He slowly spun around to look at me, his body rigid, eyes glaring.
“So, decide. Right now. Because I'm not gonna wait around forever.” I warned.
Colby bit his lips, staring at the ceiling. His hands twitched as he slid them across his face.
“I know you didn't lie that night we almost kissed. You're the one that said you wanted me close.” My voice fell to a whisper.
I could feel my face flush, my palms damp with moisture. I shuddered a breath as Colby looked into my eyes.
“You're right.”
He sighed deeply, shaking his head with a crooked smile.
“Fuck it.”
Colby raced up to me, smashing his lips onto mine as he thrusted me against his body. I immediately relaxed into him, my fingers finding their way into his hair to pull on his locks. I moaned against his lips as he picked me up easily, my legs wrapping around his waist. His hands gripped my thighs, bringing me over to the couch and placing us down. I straddled his lap, deepening the kiss as my tongue glided into his mouth.
He ripped his lips away, slamming them back down onto my neck. He kissed the hollow of my throat, his teeth scraping the skin, causing me to whimper in pleasure.
Colby pulled away suddenly, his breath coming out ragged as his hands clenched my waist hard. My eyes landed on his face, and a small gasp left my mouth. His crimson eyes stared back at me, dark black veins pulsing from under his eyes, his fangs protruding from his gums.
He stammered. “I-I'm sorry, I-I need to-”
“It's okay, Colby.”
I gently raised my hand to his face, watching for any sign of disapproval. My middle finger lightly traced the veins under his eyes, feeling them throb under my touch. Colby closed his eyes tight, allowing me to keep touching. His breaths slowed down, the veins disappearing. When he opened his eyes with an inhale, his eyes had returned to their intoxicating blue.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.
He nodded. “Yeah, I'm alright now.”
I leaned in and pecked his lips, breaking away only to see his reaction. He smiled lightly, his dimples surfacing sweetly.
My phone ringing broke me out of our trance. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and picked it up, noticing the time and who was calling.
I grumbled to Colby. “Shit, it's my boss.”
“Hey, sorry I'm-” I started.
Roger interrupted. “No need to come in now. One of our bathrooms overflowed and the whole place is flooded. It's gonna take a couple days to get fixed so, I'll see you next week at some point.”
“Oh, okay. See you then, Roger.” I hung up the phone, my eyes landing on Colby’s. “So, work’s cancelled for a while.”
“Well that's good.” He smirked.
“Why?” I questioned.
“Because then we can focus on more of this.”
Colby leaned in quickly, capturing my lips in a romantic kiss, instantly taking my breath away. I smiled against his lips, wrapping my arms around him again.
But even with my attention on Colby, my mind drifted back to Tara's words.
Please let her be wrong…
<< CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 15 >>
#colby brock#colby brock vampire#vampire#colby brock x oc#colby brock fanfiction#colby brock fic#colby brock fanfic#colby brock angst#the chosen daughter#colby brock story
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The Thought That Counts
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156649
Summary: After a day of struggling to function Tara discovers Raven's attempt to do something nice for her.
Tara blinked wearily in the dark of her room, her eyes refusing to stay open. She felt like she hadn’t slept in days, her mouth dry and numb as if it were stuffed with cotton. Despite having just slept for the past twelve hours somehow she just couldn’t wake up. She’d made it as far as climbing shakily off her bed and had ended up sitting with her back to it on the floor.
She tried to remember why she needed to get up, it was her day off there wasn’t any plans the other Titan’s had that she could remember. It was so hard to remember though, her consciousness seeming to blank for varying period of time matching the droop of here eyelids. She couldn’t even remember how long she had been sitting there but it must have been a while because she could feel her stomach twisting in hunger. Or was that her chest twisting in pain? It all felt so distant and unreal, like she was feeling second hand what some other far off Tara was feeling.
Laying down across the soft carpet floor she didn’t really think about taking another nap or that she’d stay there, she didn’t really think at all, it was hard to think. The carpet was nice though, and soft yet solid. She could feel it there under her and it held her in place.
Distantly she heard a soft rapping sound that continued on and off and soft voice calling her name but she was already drifting off.
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When Tara woke again it was to the faint glow of the stars and Jump City lights filtering in through her window. Her mouth still felt dry but she could feel the cracked lips and the way her cheeks felt hollowed and sucked clean of moisture. Her cheek gross and sticky from drool. Her head clearer, more focused. No longer drifting and scattered. The other thing she felt was a very strong urge to pee.
She sat for a few minutes trying to make the feeling go away, unwilling to get up. The uncomfortable pressure on her bladder and the clamminess of still laying on the floor eventually bested her however and she clambered up to her feet. Her legs already feeling steadier than when she last awoke.
She wandered into her en-suite before remembering that the plumbing on the residential floor of the tower had been ruined earlier in the week by one of Victor and Garfield’s pranks. She hesitated weighing the decisions, either she could just go anyways and be unable to flush or she could wander down to one of the lower floors. Deciding she didn’t want to be stuck with the smell of ammonia in her room until someone finally got around to fixing the pipes she opted for the latter. Rubbing her hand over her chin she could feel the disgusting prickly sensation almost burn across her face and grimaced. Quickly she checked the mirror to see how noticeable the stubble was. To her chagrin she had put off shaving so long small buds of blonde hair were beginning to noticeably creep into her reflection. Checking the time (an astoundingly atrocious 3:27AM) she decided she was probably safe to venture out without anyone seeing her. A lucky break considering she definitely did not have the energy to shave and reapply her makeup from what was now almost two days prior.
Opening her door she was surprised to find a tray of foot placed along the far wall, clearly intended to be seen by her upon leaving the room. Slowly she poked her head out and looked up and down the hall but saw no one in the darkness of the night. Creeping out to inspect the tray she was absolutely dumbfounded to find what appeared to be a bowl of home made Käsknöpfle and some kind of drink. Absolutely bewildered she lifted the small tray and brought it into her room, setting it down on her desk before hurrying back out into the hall and down the nearest staircase to the washroom on the floor below.
Once relieved she wandered out of the washroom to be surprised by Gar standing outside. Tara thanked the gods that he hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, her face remaining hidden in the darkness.
“Oh hey Tara, glad to see you up and about. Did you get the dinner Raven left you?” he yawned scratching the back of his neck.
“Yea, that was from Raven?” Tara asked, trying her best to remain calm and be ‘friendly’. Something she’d been working on since returning to the Titans.
“Yea dog, she was worried since we hadn’t seen you all day so since it her turn to cook she tried making that Kask...” He yawned cutting himself off. “That dish that’s really popular in Markovia . She said she was gonna make sure you got some. Last I saw she was still in the kitchen waiting for you to stop by but that was like, at ten? Thanks by the way for picking a vegetarian dish for a fav e , I like enjoying what everyone else is enjoying.” Garfield continued on like a run away train the way he often did. “Yea no problem.” Tara said distractedly cutting in before he could transition to another topic and thew in an insult by force of habit . “Don’t let me keep you from the bathroom though dude. I don’t need to pissing yourself in the hall. You are litter box trained aren’t you?” “Yea thanks?” Gar scrunched his face up at her confused at how distracted and weak the insult had seemed. Something he wasn’t used too.
Tara didn’t even noticed his confusion heading back to the main living floor to check out the kitchen. While Tara had been trying her best to be nicer since returning she had noticed quite obviously that Raven had been also attempting to be nicer to her as well. Unlike the early days where she’d insult Raven and Raven would say her emotions felt like the damned returned from hell to walk among the living. Or something to that effect with less of the gravitas. But potentially staying up all night waiting for her would be too much wouldn’t it? I mean she had to have given up at some point and left the tray instead. A creeping sense of worry began to gnaw at her. She decided to check it out just in case.
Entering the kitchenette she turned the lights on and then slow raised the dimmer so the room was lit but a low mild orange. Looking around she found the kitchen to be completely empty and sighed a breathe of relief. She would have hated it if Raven had wasted her whole day waiting for her. That kind of self sacrificing attitude was infuriating about her, but also sometime Tara found herself being charmed by it. She’d come to admit recently. It was nice knowing Raven cared about her and it made her want to reciprocate the gesture, even if the best she could do was just not making Raven feel the need to waste time on her or stopping her when she tried.
Tara was halfway back to her room, cutting through the living room as a short cut from the kitchen when she spied the small black and purple mass bundled up on the couch. It was clearly even from a distance and in the dark the sleeping form of Raven. Tara could feel herself clench up, balling her hands into fists and biting her lower lip as tears began to form at the corners of her eyes unbidden. She wasn’t really sure why, she wasn’t sad. Not in that kind of way at least. She just felt tired and exhausted all of a sudden. Yet somehow she was also happy, euphoric almost. Her emotions fighting together and falling into each other in an almost manic game of king of the hill.
“You fucking idiot. Why can’t you just look after yourself for once.” she muttered under her breathe while stalking past towards her room.
Grabbing one of her two pillows and a spare blanket she tried to reign herself in to avoid stomping all the way back to Raven’s sleeping form. It was strange to see her like this, so vulnerable and open. Before Raven had always kept her guard up when Tara was around so when Tara marched up to wake her up and tell her to sleep properly like the hypocrite that she knew herself to be she stopped short upon seeing the other girl. She looked so small bundled up in her cloak the way she was, the pallid skin of her face peeking out from the hood looked peaceful and beautiful, in an oddly otherworldly ethereal sort of way that sucked her in. Like some kind of beautiful corpse laying there moments before decomposition kicks in. The way she seemed to almost blend into the shards of moonlight that broke in through the windows transfixed her and caused her heart to race dramatically. She wanted to reach out and brush her hand across her soft looking cheeks and to cup her face and bring her in for a kiss. She figured this must be why people were so obsessed with vampire romance fiction. Her mind skipped a beat moments after her heart as she realized what she’d just thought. Blushing a violent red as the thought of her kissing Raven flooded back to her again unbidden.
Awkwardly Tara reached out to wake Raven, stopping short before starting and stopping again four or five times. She then tried to see if there was a way to lift her head to place the pillow under before giving up on that. Finally she tried to spread out the blanket over her just to abort in panic as Raven rolled in her sleep. Feeling strangely confused about how to proceed and gave up, folding the blanket back up albeit rather poorly and placed them in a pile beside the couch before practically sprinting back to her room. Her mind racing with the thought. What the fuck was that?
Back inside her room she collapsed in the beaten up folding chair she kept by her desk and sunk her head into her hands. Disbelief flooded her already confused emotions. Did she like Raven? I mean, it was pretty clear from this that aesthetically there was definitely something there but her stomach twisted unsure if there was anything else there. She sat there running the possibilities through her head on loop when she noticed the tray of food once more. Without thinking she slowly reached out for the fork and speared some of the spätzle, cheese and onion mixture. It wasn’t particularly good, but it wasn’t bad either really. The fact that Raven had went out of her way to learn how to and try to make a dish from her homeland for her to make her feel better was so disgustingly sweet that it overpowered any fault in the dish and seasoned it perfectly with the gratitude she felt. Tears began to fall from her face again at the realization that hit her. It was scary, the thought of having romantic feelings again after so long. She didn't think she was ready. She was terrified in fact that she would immediately fuck everything up. Romance had never been good for her.
Trying to eat another bite or two Tara found she still couldn’t bring up an appetite. Frustrated as it made her she left the dish barely touched and climbed herself back into bed like she’d originally planned. Laying under the covers she couldn’t stop her mind from drifting back to the girl passed out on the couch and her heart seemed to lose control again. Sleep came fast with dreams of Raven that upon awaking Tara would be unable to remember fully, wondering if the previous night and her feelings where just another dream as well. The bowl sat on her desk still unfinished as a gentle reminder.
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Everything Is Gonna Be Fine - File 005
Date: 3/5/215
Incoming signal: Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me? Is there anyone in the wasteland listening to me? Fuck, this is hopeless… We don’t even know if people are alive out there, we’ve never left the region because of the horror stories we’ve heard. CeeCee are you sure? …Yeah, right. Ahem! I’m Nate, I’m from the Eastern OQ region, and for the last ten years I’ve been fighting in, well to put it lightly, a pretty nasty civil war. The group I was with has been mostly killed or captured and our leader is missing, presumed dead. Please, if someone is out there and can hear this, we need supplies. Wait what’s- Shit! CeeCee get down they found-
Outgoing message: Nous vous entendons. Sur routre chemin.
__________________________
Date: 13/6/215
Location: Prison Complex, Ottowa, Ontario-Quebec Region
Nate choked out a sob and wrapped the younger man in a tight, one-armed hug. Lewis was surprised at first but slowly leaned into it.
“I’m okay.” he assured. “I’m fine.” Nate nodded, but didn’t let go. Lewis pushed him back. “We’re on a bit of a time crunch, we can talk later.” he said softly but firmly. Nate took a deep breath.
“Yeah... Yeah, of course.” he muttered, pulling back fully and looking into Lewis’ eyes for an answer. Lewis looked behind him at Zander.
“Hey man, you good to move?” Zander tried his best to sit up.
“Not really, it’ll hurt like a bitch and I might lose a few non-essential organs, but if you’re here to break me out I’ll tough it out.” he replied, wincing. Lewis and Nate frowned at each other.
“Zander...” Nate said in a “concerned mom” tone of voice. Lewis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Well, I would just break Nate and CeeCee out and come back for you, but...”
“We’re not leaving him here.” Nate insisted, folding his right arm over his stump.
“Oh so you’re part of the rescue committee now?” Lewis snapped.
“Hey! Stop fighting. Make up your minds.” Zander barked at them, coughing at the strain he had put on his voice. “If you have to, leave me here. I get that I’ll be a pain to carry, and the guards here are gonna shoot you to pieces if you aren’t quick. Just don’t waste time fighting over what to do with me.”
Nate swallowed. He hated that Zander was right, and he hated how calmly Zander was accepting this. He had always been ready to give up his life for the cause, even now that it was over.
“No. Shut the fuck up Zander, we’re gonna get you out. Somehow.” Lewis insisted. He muttered and pulled out a comm device. “Where the fuck are they... Come on come on...”
He jumped when the door opened, but relaxed when the “guard” who came in took off their helmet to reveal Milo, very flushed and out of breath.
“Where’s Tara?” Lewis questioned him, pulling him into the room and closing the door. Milo shrugged, the mute boy signing something to Lewis. Nate didn’t quite catch all of it, but he understood that he was saying something about CeeCee. Lewis nodded. “Alright, cool. Nate, help Zander up.” Nate nodded, going over to Zander’s side.
“You ready man?” he asked, sliding his arm under Zander’s shoulders and lifting him up. Zander winced but nodded, pushing himself up. Nate slowly eased him up, helping him swing his legs over the side of the bed and stand up. The burns on his leg still looked horrific, but the bruising on his side was clearly the root of most of his pain. Even though it had been a few months, the abhorrent “care” the elites had given him hadn’t helped his injuries. Once he was fully up on his feet, he let out a small yelp and nearly collapsed. Nate held him up, trying to have a firm enough grip to keep him from passing out without hurting him.
Milo and Lewis signed to each other passionately, occasionally checking a small comm device for a signal. Nate helped Zander limp his way over to them.
“What’s the plan?” Zander asked. Lewis looked up at him.
“We have one more person, we have to wait for them. I told them to get CeeCee but they aren’t back yet and they aren’t telling me anything, so honestly we may be fucked.” he sighed, running a hand through his greasy blonde hair. Zander’s face darkened at the thought that CeeCee could be in danger. He knew that the guards would kill her if they saw her trying to escape, no questions asked.
“How reliable is your friend?” he asked Lewis. He needed to know what the chances were that he’d be able to see CeeCee again.
“They’re the best.” Lewis assured him.
“And CeeCee’s better than the best, you know that. If anyone could make it out of here it’s her.” Nate added. Zander nodded, anxiety still clouding his head.
After a few moments, Lewis sighed.
“I would love to wait for Tara, but we have to go. They might still be able to get out on their own, but we have to leave.” Zander closed his eyes. He understood.
“Then let’s go.” Milo and Lewis both gave him sympathetic looks before putting on the helmet disguises and opening the door.
__________________________
CeeCee was perfectly fine with breaking herself out, which was essentially what she was doing at this point. Someone in an elite guard uniform had opened her cell, motioned for her to come out, refused to touch her and then opened a vent and crawled inside. Unfortunately for CeeCee, this person was quite a lot thinner than she was.
“I’m a big girl, you think I can fit in there?” she asked, peering into the narrow crawl space. The person looked at her blankly and shrugged. She had a sinking suspicion that this person was either deaf or didn’t speak the same language as she did. The person hesitated, but eventually they crawled through the vent and disappeared. Which was fine. CeeCee could handle herself, and this person was not obligated to risk their life to save her. It was just slightly odd that someone who couldn’t speak to her, didn’t want to touch her and couldn’t bring her with them would open her cell door and make it appear that they were here to break her out.
Oh well, life was weird. The only thing to do was to get out of here as fast as fucking possible, which was exactly what she planned to do. She slunk along the wall of the corridor, always looking behind her shoulder. She needed to find a weapon. There, just across the hall, an armed guard... Could she take them? She hadn’t been able to take care of her body the last few months, she didn’t know if she was strong enough to have a proper fight. She needed to be stealthy. She took a deep breath, walking up to them, measuring every footstep. Every step had to be quiet. Every breath had to be held. Once she was behind the guard, she leaped up, wrapping her arm around his neck in a headlock, pulling him down. The guard was taller than her, most people were since she was only 5′0, but she could use that to her advantage. Forcing someone who was six feet tall to bend over backwards to her height was a particular favorite tactic.
“Give me your gun.” she growled. The guard choked and clawed at her arm, but she didn’t let him go.
“Get off him!” barked a voice from behind her. She spun around. A new guard was running up to her, but behind him was-
“Zander?” she gasped, dropping the guard. Zander looked up at her and his eyes widened.
“CeeCee! Oh my life, CeeCee.”
She took a better look around her. The two “guards” were actually... Lewis and Milo? Lewis was still alive?
“What’s goin’ on?” she asked as Nate helped Zander limp over to her.
“We’re breaking out.” Nate answered matter of factly.
“Where’s Tara?” Lewis asked. CeeCee shook her head, trying to back up.
“Tara? Breaking out? The fuck is happening?” Lewis looked around at the other men.
“Tara is supposed to be breaking you out.” CeeCee remembered the strange person who disappeared into the vent.
“Yeah, she disappeared. I dunno where the fuck she went.”
“They.”
“Sorry, they disappeared.” Lewis cursed under his breath.
“Fuck.”
Zander coughed and everyone turned around to him.
“No time... To talk.” he said with another cough. CeeCee felt her heart break.
“We have to get him out of here.”
“Yeah. Let’s go.” Zander shook his head vehemently.
“No, you should leave me here, I’ll weigh you down. You have to go.” CeeCee grabbed his shirt collar with her left hand and yanked him forward.
“Alexander Ashworth, shut the actual fuck up. If you were any more damn stupid I’d swear that all those years around Kenji sapped your ability to make rational thoughts.” she snapped, roughly grabbing him away from Nate and starting to carry him away. “Y’all coming?” she shouted back at the three other men, who were just standing in shock. They quickly shook themselves out of their surprise and scurried along behind her. Zander laughed quietly to himself.
“I love you.” he whispered. CeeCee would’ve been more than happy to return the sentiment, but right now she was focused on getting her idiot boyfriend out of here.
Something didn’t feel right about all of this. This was way too easy.
“Lewis, did you kill the alarms on your way in?” CeeCee asked.
“We were going to, but they were all disconnected already. It was weird, but we didn’t have time to question it.” he responded, looking over his shoulder. She swallowed nervously.
“Now may be a good time to question it. I think that they’re setting up a trap for us.” Milo looked over at her, eyes wide, before roughly jabbing Lewis in the ribs and signing “I fucking told you so.” Lewis winced and looked down.
“I don’t know man... I thought maybe we were having some good luck.” Nate sighed.
“When have we ever had good luck, Lewis?” CeeCee chimed in, doing her best to look authoritative while also struggling to hold up Zander. Nate frowned at her.
“So... Now what?” Zander coughed, less in a “I’m dying” kind of way and more in a “notice me” sort.
“I swear on my father’s body that if you tell me to leave you and save myself, I’m gonna make sure you’re the only person who leaves here alive.” CeeCee hissed at him. He smiled at her weakly.
“I know. But I really am just weighing you down, and if shit hits the fan then you won’t be able to drag me all the way out there.”
“You don’t fuckin’ know what I can or can’t do.” she snapped. Zander sighed.
“CeeCee... Baby, I-”
Before he could finish, a siren started blaring.
“I guess they fixed the alarms.” Lewis sighed, grabbing Nate and Milo and pulling them along behind him as he started to sprint.
__________________________
Zander appreciated so much that CeeCee would stick with him no matter what. He loved her so much, and that was why he was going to sacrifice himself for her when she couldn’t carry him anymore. He couldn’t be dragged around by her, risking her life and the lives of Nate, Milo, Lewis and maybe even Lewis’ friend Tara. There was only one hitch in his plan; CeeCee had a very strong grip on him and was one of the most determined people who had ever lived. There was no way she was going to let him go.
“Shit! Fuck! Fuck!” Lewis shouted as he sprinted furiously down the halls of the prison complex. Guards had been alerted to the security breach and weren’t at all happy about it. A bullet whizzed over Milo’s head, narrowly missing him. Nate looked like he very much wanted to say something but was just in for the proverbial ride. Zander felt useless, like a slab of meat. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight, could barely even stand up. How was he supposed to keep up? He couldn’t keep up, which meant CeeCee couldn’t keep up. A gunshot echoed in the corridor. Blood? No, they were fine. Keep running. Keep up.
“Fuck, fuck, keep running. Keep going.” Lewis was chanting, a reminder to himself. Keep going. Keep up.
The entrance was there. So close. Guards, blocking the way to freedom. No, not freedom, but close enough. As close as they could get.
“What do we do?” CeeCee called out. Nobody knew, but someone had to answer. Another gunshot. It sounded further away. One of the guards at the door fell, the others turned around.
Sirens still blared, so loud, so close, everywhere. How could anyone focus in here? They couldn’t, too loud.
“Just run.” Nate answered. That was all they could do. No time to focus, no time for questions. Just run. Just hope that running would work. So they ran. Zander felt like he was going to pass out. As he kept forcing his body to go beyond its limit, he suddenly felt like he was out of his body. That wasn’t it. He felt like he was still inside his body, but there was no control. Only beating heart, heavy breaths. Only running. Only sweat, dripping down his forehead and back. He couldn’t control his movements. He couldn’t control it when he collapsed.
__________________________
Tag list: @thereasontherumisgone @germanmetal
#dystopia#dystopian canada#nate sharp#lewis spiorad#dystopian world#mike shinoda fine#everything is gonna be fine#rebellion#zander ashworth#ceecee camryn#dystopian
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Alright, judging by how successful that last Harry Potter experimental question was, Buffy's scooby gang, as a Leverage Crew? Is it too simple to say Buffy as a hitter and Giles as a mastermind?
Which version of the gang are we talking here? Can I go across the whole series? Season 1 only? All Stars? Fuck it I’m cherry picking because THAT’S HOW WE DO.
So, Giles is absolutely on the money. He’s the Mastermind, no doubt. He’s the watcher, he trains the others (mostly Buffy and Faith, but let’s be real, he trains all of them in their own way), he’s the one that works things out, leads research parties, comes up with plans. He’s the Mastermind, at least at first. Like Nate, he graduates out of that position (although I think the others sort of share it after he steps down, rather than one person picking it up).
But Buffy’s not the hitter.
Buffy is the grifter.
Think about it. Pretty, blonde, posterchild for popularity. She’s charismatic. She’s endearing. You like her. You’d probably do anything she asked you to. She’s an an excellent liar, a brilliant actor. She plays the part. The only reason she doesn’t have Sunnydale wrapped around her fucking finger is because all the bullshit with demons and vampires is Too Obvious for no one to ever notice how weird she is. If they could be even slightly more subtle, or pick slightly more convenient times to get up to their nonsense, no one would ever suspect she was anything but what she looks like.
No, the hitter? That’s Faith. And yes, I’m counting her as a Scooby. My girl got done dirty, alright. Granted, she did some people pretty dirty as well. But she was a teenage girl with a really shitty childhood, and I’m not one to use the shitty childhood as a get out of jail free card (get it), but dude. Dude. Every single thing that could’ve gone wrong for her, did. And every time the team had a chance to prove she could trust them, they fucked it up. Mostly Wesley fucked it up, but let’s not go there. And did I mention she was a teenage girl? Also, it helps that she was only Properly Evil for like, a few months, after which she was in a coma, and was Properly Evil for all of five minutes before deciding “Actually I just wanna be Buffy,” because guess what, she never WANTED to be the bad guy-
I’m getting off topic. The point is. Faith is the brawn, alright? Post-Faith, I guess that position goes to Spike, who let’s face it, is basically Buffy’s backup/guard dog from the moment he realizes he can still kill demons, and especially after his big “Oh shit I love the slayer” realization. For the record, bad decisions being made by an ostensibly helplessly evil soulless monster aside, no one EVER had Buffy’s back like Spike did. Not a single damn person. Fucking fight me. Every. Single. Other. Person. Let her down. Constantly. Or they were never in a positoin to properly have her back in the first place. The one time he really did screw it up, he realized how fucked up he was, and went off and got a fucking soul for her, so basically
Riley, for the record, is not a Hitter and does NOT count as a Scooby, because screw that guy. Also while I’m on the subject, screw Xander, because the episode where Riley leaves and Xander gives Buffy the “you’re the bad guy” speech sits so fucking wrong with me, and Xander goddamn Harris can get fucking bent. I’m still off topic, I know, I know. Sorry, I just. I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS ABOUT BUFFY.
ANYWAY. Willow is the hacker, big fucking shock. She’s... she’s literally a hacker, okay. Even when she stops being all computer-y and starts being all witch-y, her approach to witchcraft is... is to hack it. She hacks magic. Literally. That’s what gets her in so much trouble with it, because she’s too fucking good at cheating the system. It’s how she brought Buffy back. She’s the goddamned Hacker. Age. Of. The. Fucking. Geek. Baby.
Thief............ hmph. I don’t know?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?
See, the thing is, basically all of the properly involved Scoobies had to steal something at one point or another, all with basically the same level of success, so... wait.
Okay. No. The thief is Dawn.
She’s literally a thief! She steals from everybody all the goddamned time! With varying degrees of success, sure. But if she was actually trained at it, she’d be better than all of them. She’s the only Little Sibling out of the bunch (Well, okay, Tara had an older brother, but her homelife was so fucked she has Very Different Younger Sister energy than Dawn). She has a specific talent for it that I bet would serve her well if she was actually trained. I honestly at this point have read so much fanfic that I cannot for the life or me remember if canon!Spike ever helped teach her to knick stuff or if that’s just widely accepted fanon!Spike because people love that dynamic (as they should, it’s great). I’m doing a rewatch but... uh... I kinda stopped partway through S5 because I’m like four episodes away from The Body and gods I just can’t take it. Point being, I dunno if that’s legit or not. BUT. If it were legit, and she was taught how to steal, she’d be great at it.
I guess Spike is kind of also the thief. But he’s also the only one of the scoobies that’s properly been a villain (I’m not counting Faith or Willow’s brief insanity, and Angel isn’t the villain, Angelus is, so...), so naturally he’s got the shady skills. He can kind of grift and mastermind, too, except he’s too impatient for it, which is why he ends up stuck as a hitter most of the time. Everything else is too slow for his ass. See, the entirety of S2.
For fun, under the cut, the remaining scoobies and what position they’re best suited for:
Xander: Hitter??? He’s not got the super strength and he’s kind of played for laughs, but there was that whole bit where he had the tactical training from his brief stint as GI Joe in the Halloween episode. He’s a decent tactician, which is kind of the hitter’s job. I bet that if the wasn’t so busy feeling inferior to Buffy and he actually like. Trained. He could be a decent fighter.
Cordelia: Straight fucking grifter. Which she proves plenty of times on Angel. It’s extra great because she basically IS Sophie, what with the whole “can grift like a boss but put her on stage and she’s terrible” bit. She’s also a decent mastermind, also showcased on Angel. She whips him into shape from day one, and is the only thing that keeps AI running half the time. Also not unlike Sophie. Honestly Cordelia is my favorite character from the OG cast. She deserved better.
Angel: Mastermind. He’s got all of Angelus’ brains, remember, just not necessarily any reason to use them. He’s smart, though, and definitely good at planning. He’s also really into knowing the most and keeping his cards close to his chest. The parallels with Nate are a little strong, honestly, because he also has that whole... guilty conscience spiraling downward holier than thou thing going on. And yes, I do ship him and Cordy, thanks for asking.
Oz: Hacker! Not a lot of people really remember this, since his prominent character traits were “In a band”, “Willow’s boyfriend”, and “werewolf”. Plus there’s the whole flunked-senior-year plot point which I honestly think they did just to keep him around. But the first time Oz actually properly interacted with Willow was because they’d both gotten singled out for their badass computer skills on career day. He’s very nearly as good as her.
Anya: Grifter. I mean, the whole vengeance demon schtick relies on the grift. She’s very good at it. Which, she ought to be, she’s been doing it for over a thousand years. It’s sort of hilarious though because it seems like the second she loses her powers, she also loses her ability to blend in. I think that’s likely because she’s used to short term cons, and running the long con that is being human again is more difficult. Still, this is where she shines.
Riley: He doesn’t count because I kinda hate him. But fine if you wanna go there. Hitter. He doesn’t deserve the title though because Eliot is both brains and brawn and Riley can’t think his way out of a paper sack without someone giving him directions, and even then it’s dicey.
Tara: This one is super hard for me! I can’t see her as any of the actual team positions. I suppose the one skill she displays would be grifting, since she does try to hide her identity as a supposed demon from the others for a while before her birthday comes up. But honestly I see her less as a member of the crew and more as a Maggie. Voice of reason, moral high ground, not putting up with shenanigans if she can help it... yeah. Tara’s the Maggie. Every crew needs one.
#leverage anon#buffy the vampire slayer#btvs meta#leverage#This is a Pro-Spike blog antis will be blocked on sight lmao#and also fuck xander harris#there I said it
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Outlaw Woman Ch2
Rated M - this is a serious rating y’all. There’s derogatory terms and sex and violence. The MC world is not a soft place but I won’t water it down.
Lexi is constantly finding herself in the middle- She belongs with the SOA, family is everything, but finding her role within that family is hard. She has to find a balance and a place before she just teeters over the edge and gets lost in the madness. Love, Lust, Violence, and Hilarity.
Jax x OC x Happy - David Hale x OC
Hey guys! Lets act like we’ve done this before ok? No copying my work- I don’t own SOA etc etc. I LOVE Lexi. I put a lot of myself in her and I would adore your feedback. Check out my Master List Here.
Happy locked eyes with Lexi as he slid his calloused, masculine, strong right hand under her left knee. Lexi couldn't help the sudden intake of breath, her lips parting ever so slightly. The room suddenly felt way too small. No man had ever made her nervous like Happy did. She had no idea what to do with that. It had been years since their one night. One night of mindless pleasure. No names had been exchanged. No club affiliation ever discussed. That night had gone completely unacknowledged even after they realized. Verbally at least. It was for the better.
Thank God he wasn't around more because as is, these moments are getting far too frequent. As his hand slid slowly but with purpose down her calf lifting her ankle onto his jean clad knee she held her breath. He lifted it just off his knee sliding the ice pack under to cool it from behind where it looked to be the most bruised. "Hand me that gauze." His voice was slightly deeper than normal- less raspy. She nodded dumbly and then, and then the most embarrassing thing ever, she let out a loud hiccup that was so violent it actually caused her to bounce slightly off the bar.
Lexi was mortified; she couldn't look up at him. She hadn't even had warning enough to cover her mouth. Her face immediately began to heat up and she handed him the gauze as quickly as she could before taking a long pull from the bottle of Jack at her side tossing the lid across the room. This day had been exhausting- she had every intention of making it all go away by drinking as much of this bottle as she could. 'At least the hiccup had killed that moment before anyone could walk in on that super sexy eye contact,' she thought.
Her leg was so smooth and warm from the sun. Happy's mind went blank when she bounced- he'd been captivated by the jiggle of her DDs. Really, he had to get ahold of himself. If Tig kept catching him staring like this- it'd be his nuts. Especially now that she had an old man. His eyes wandered over a fresh piece of ink on her calf. She was lucky her boots had protected it. A beautiful reaper curved along her calf. The style very reminiscent of the one painted on the door- this one held more color. It was centered in a golden frame with the shadows of crows dancing behind its head and in its extended palm instead of the traditional anarchy sign it held a glowing sacred heart. He had to rein this shit in. Happy didn't like being out of control of anything- with Lexi he felt he was out of control of EVERYTHING. From the moment he’d arrived in Charming five years ago only to learn that sweet wild delicious piece of ass he’d fucked on the road was actually Tig’s sister, he’d been fighting to get a solid grip on things. She never followed direction, she was always putting herself in bad situations, she was ever chasing adventure and danger. That he was attached to her in the slightest was dangerous. EVERTHING about Lexi was dangerous for him.
"So what was all of that about?" he distracted as he began to gingerly wipe the blood off of her leg, putting slight pressure on the scrapes to stop the bleeding. "Fucking idiot probably should have done this first," he muttered. Lexi laughed, "yeah well you know my brother- more bullets then brain." Hap smirked nodding his head and continuing to work on her- long golden soft warm- leg. "That stick in Tara's ass has been super-sized lately. It's starting to affect the functionality of her brain." Hap glanced up at her, "but why? Why you?" Lexi scoffed taking another pull off her bottle, "I honestly don't know where this started. She's always hated me, but since she came back- she wants me dead." She took another pull, "Jax definitely isn't helping things. This reminds me I have to find a new place to hide my key." "Wasn't your old man mad when he showed up like that?" Lexi almost shot whiskey out her nose- which burns for a very long time if you've never done it. "What old man? What have you been smoking Hap and can I have some?" Hap reached into his pocket with his left hand using his right to apply light pressure. He fished out a joint and handed it over and she giggled in delight.
After a deep inhale, holding the smoke in her lungs, "What're you talking about Hap?" her accent continued to thicken with each vice she partook in. He gently tapped her tattoo and then ran a finger firmly down one side of the frame. "OH!" She was becoming more animated; her hands were now flying as she was speaking to him causing some of the booze to slosh out. "No, I got that just for me. It's not a crow. I got shot six months ago, Clay and Gem and Tig and the boys all said I earned my own reaper. I had to make it a little more girly though. I'm just not the kind of girl to rock anything overly masculine." Happy's brain had stopped on the shot part, "see this is what I'm talking about! How the hell did you get shot?" Lexi's eyebrows furrowed as she leaned forward, "what you're talking about?" He shook his head, "How the hell did you get shot?" She leaned back eyeing him suspiciously but in her buzzed state quickly let it go shrugging and smiling, "drive by." She unbuttoned the top button on her blouse allowing her to shift the collar so he could see the vibrant pink shiny new flesh where she had taken the bullet. And also a good flash of skin and pink lace. Happy shook his head. Focus. He took the bottle from her taking a long pull only to realize she’d already knocked back more than half of it. Well that wasn’t good.
Focus. He hadn't heard of a drive by. "Drive by where?" "Oakland." "What the fuck were you doing in Oakland?" "I had a meeting with a gallery in Oakland. I sold three paintings- Jax took me to a bar after to celebrate." "What the fuck?"
Jax should know better than that.
He had put Lexi in danger.
He had started this thing with Tara too.
Lexi was the artist of the door and the tattoo. Well that made her hotter. Fuck.
Happy filed it away at the look of confusion on Lexi's face. Her blue eyes were sharp, even in her inebriated state. He schooled his features trying to look casual. He'd have to ask around about this when she wasn't around. Something about all of this didn't seem right. What the hell was Jax thinking- or better yet what was Jax thinking with?
Before he could even process all of this new information two things happened: One, Tig, the Prospect and Chibs came laughing and rough housing out of the dorms; two, the front door to the club house was thrown open with a loud BANG. Gemma cut a formidable figure in her bitch heels; large black hobo bag slung over her shoulder. "Little girl, you have a lot of explaining to do!" Lexi was immediately off the bar forgetting her swollen foot and leaving the half smoked joint in an ash tray. The pain immediately reminded her why she’d been smoking it in the first place and she reached out gripping Happy's shoulder for support. He stood and maneuvered her to his stool. The way the two moved with each other was so natural- the all-seeing mother bear quirked an eyebrow, not missing a thing. Happy pulled up a second bar stool and lifter her foot; replacing the ice pack, only when she was situated did he step away. Then again Alexia is family and Happy was notoriously protective of SOA family- especially the women. Though, no one would ever label him a nurturer. Gemma filed this new observation away for a later date.
"You fucking broke the doc's nose! You better have a damn good reason!" Gemma scolded charging toward her beloved pseudo daughter. "Gemma you know me better than that! The bitch started something she didn't have the ass to back up." "Why the fuck would she do that Lex? Jax was at your house last night! That's why!" Happy’s shoulders tensed and he leaned back against the bar staring at the juke box intently. Lex rolled her eyes, "that's an issue you should take up with your son." Gemma threw her purse on the counter, "I would if I could but he's too busy talking Tara down." Lexi threw her hands up, "this is nuts! Why do I have to defend myself when I was just defending myself!" "Lex, you know I’ve always thought you were better for Jax then that little tart, but when you sleep with another woman's old man she has every right to give you hell. You screwed up you should take it!" Lexi, now seeing red, threw that mother fucking bottle of booze against the wall behind Gemma who covered her head and stared at her pseudo daughter in shock. "I didn't do shit!" The entire club was silent in the wake of the bottles shatter.
Tig came up behind Lex quietly, putting an affectionate and comforting hand on her shoulder. Her chest was heaving from screaming and a tear of rage sank down her cheek. Lexi was not an angry girl but she had a temper that she struggled with at times- one that had been passed down to both of his children by Dan Trager. Chibs turned to the Prospect, "go get me medics bag." Half Sack nodded and slipped out of the room silently, relieved to be anywhere but here. "You know what Gem?" came a low soft lilting Texas accent, "If I had slept with Jax, yes, Tara would have every right. I have never slept with Jax. I don't intend to sleep with Jax. I. Don't. Want. Him." She took another long deep breath and the queen opened her mouth as if to say something but quickly shut it. "Jax," Lexi was disgusted, "broke into my house last night. I had no idea he was there until the morning. I am sick,” her voice hitched, “I am sick and tired of your fucking son putting me in the middle." Lexi looked up from where her eyes had been glued to her lap. Making eye contact with Gemma, Gemma felt her spine go cold at a look that was violent and fed up. "Tara jumped me- pulled me off the bike- Jax did nothing- I defended myself. That is the last time I am saying it to you Gemma. Believe who you want."
Gemma sat down in the nearest chair with a dramatic sigh. “Well why didn’t you just say so.”
Lexi closed her eyes and took a deep breathe trying to calm herself. Happy noticed that her hands were clenched and shaking. TIg glanced at the Killer and followed his dark stare. He lovingly, gently pried her fingers apart and rubbed his thumbs over the crescent imprints from her nails. Chibs made his move then, the medic's bag appearing in his hand. Got to give it to the Prospect, he had come and gone with no one noticing. Chibs moved to Lexi's side examining her scrapes. "We need to clean these honey and then we need to take a look at that ankle, see if it's broken." Lexi nodded allowing the Scott to clean and bandage the wound on her thigh in silence but not before she scooped up Happy's abandoned beer on the bar and downing it in one go and taking a long hit off the joint. "When I know what's goin on with your ankle, I'll give you something for the pain and to chill your nerves love." Lexi gave him a thin smile before carefully putting the now significantly shorter joint between the Scotts lips who gave her a roguish smile in return. “I’m good,” she muttered.
From her spot at a table Gemma lit a cigarette massaging her temples as she puffed and puffed.
#sons of anarchy#soa#soa fanfiction#Jax Teller#jax x oc#jax teller x oc#jax teller x reader#happy lowman#happy lowman x oc#happy lowman x reader#gemma teller#angst#romance
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S. VALENTINE IN RED (BLOOD)
Original title: San Valentino in rosso (sangue)
Prompt: crime case, anonymous courtesy, one night deleted.
Warning: none.
Genre: romantic, angst, friendship.
Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, BAU team, Roxy.
Pairing: Garvez.
Note: oneshot.
Legend: 💑💏😘😈🔦🐶
Song mentioned: none.
A serial killer who kills only once a year: in the period preceding and following Valentine’s Day. His victims are apparently random, they don’t have in common neither gender nor ethnicity, or age, or social class. But the BAU team is forced to speed up the investigation, when their computer technician is in danger of becoming next victim.
MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES
S. VALENTINE IN RED (BLOOD) 02/14/16
-And those flowers? - the dark man scrutinizes the colorful bunch of carefully placed on the desk of computer technician. The latter glares at him, asking him telepathically probably the reason for his sudden entrance. He had never entered in before. In nearly six months. The thing is quite strange.
-What is it, Alvez, do you think I bought them myself?- her tone is ironic with different bad shades, as always when she talking with him, apart from rarely if the subject of their conversation is Roxy. Yet that draws him far more than if she behaves like with all the others, even with Stephen, the very latest member who was joined their team, with whom she has been since the beginning sweet, cute and loving. Exactly the opposite to him: after all he has committed a serious infringement: he had taken the place of Agent Morgan.
-No.- he answers only. As hard as her is a weird, eccentric person, especially in the way she dresses up her hideout and herself, from what he can see (he doesn’t lose the opportunity to carefully scrutinize every detail of the room, all the pictures - damn, how many photos of her with Derek, them hugging… - cuddly puppets, colored pens), he can’t imagine her buying flowers for herself. She maintains a fixed her gaze in that of man. Always with the same defiance in her eyes, but what’s really at stake? He has some ideas, one, to be sure, but not the courage to express it. But something shines through her manner however: the lips that fold into mischievous way, arched eyebrows, smarting eyes and brighter than usual.
-So, what do you want? - how strong is the urge to take off that grimace of her mouth, once and for all? Enough to fall? Or surrender?
-Anything. But Emily told me that we must work together.- he announced casually, as if he didn’t care the task given by their leader. He really isn’t able to mask the entire satisfaction that he feels, telling her that she’ll forced to endure his presence for many more hours than what she thinks; that she had to got to get over it, seek to cooperate with him. Alone. The woman snorts, whirling around, turning to one of the numerous screens scattered around her bunker and sitting at her desk. Her blond hair flutter wrapping her face. He doesn’t hold a slight chuckle and after a moment’s pause, he approaches her slowly, bending and staying a few centimeters from her neck. For a moment in his mind pass very different images, from those of the case that they should studied.
-I am perfectly able to do my part alone.- she says, her voice firm and precise, not even turning and trying to pretend she doesn’t care the concrete fact that the damn breath of him, warm and… (no!) is brushing her bare and vulnerable skin. She doesn’t know if the man has noticed it, but soon his face is almost up to her shoulder and she can’t help but experience a feeling of deja-vu quite particular, because the male subject isn’t the same of her memories. And this is precisely the problem. She feels the weight of his eyes and embarrassment that tries to make red her cheeks. But she’ll never give this satisfaction to him. But he doesn’t stop to staring her and if she thought good for a moment about it, she would come to the right conclusion. Three coincidences are a proof. And she would have far more to explore.
-I’m sorry, Emily said that we can’t stay alone and you have to get over it, she had entrusted you to me.- he makes a significant pause. She hates when he does that. And then, the choice of terms. Entrusted, as if I were a… No, what Alvez intends is quite different, as if she really need a protection… -You have to learn to be more professional.- isn’t the first time that he gives her a scolding this kind. Once he dared to say that she should be nicer (but in his head, he thought cute) with him. I, the Queen of nice! And he had the gall to respond, Maybe like … the Queen of ice. And perhaps the heart of the matter was that the beautiful dark man wanted to be able to make melted her… in more ways than one.
-Okay, Newbie.- she strongly highlights her favorite nickname for him. -There are papers.- she shows him a huge pile that nearly submerge whole table. -We must digitize each document.- she makes even a break, allowing herself to turn her head toward his. Now they are at the same height. She approaches a bit. A little too much. she seems to see his pupils dilate, but… -Enjoy yourselves.- and she returns to take care of her computer.
Luke passes the next three minutes mentally relive the last scene. What the hell she had wanted to do? Only provoke him, or was there more? Maybe she… knew? And what it was there to know? Here was the real question. So, it’s better if he focuses his resources on those files. And so, he begins with finding a chair, bringing it closer to that of her (but not too much, keep a safe distance) and dictate her those information’s, which turn quickly in brilliantly data from the action of darting and quick fingers of the bespectacled blonde. She is so fast also in other situations? he can’t help but wonder, then he thanks everyone who has made sure that the thoughts remain as such, stored in personal storage and inaudible from other external.
-What’s the matter with you, Alvez? You saw a ghost?- he realizes that he was holding clutching a paper from a long time. She is peering him too carefully. He must recover immediately.
-I was… I was just thinking that today is Valentine’s day.- he shoots the first bullshit that crosses his mind. She doesn’t seem very convinced, but she flies over.
-Uh uh.- she emits verses in television sitcom style -Don’t tell me that Roxy has a rival.- is her convoluted way in order to extract information without him clearly understand that she is interested to know if he is engaged, without her knowing. And maybe something more, but we overlook. This is what the dark man hoped, but not betting on it too many chips. He shakes his head. He is unable to say more, because it would sound something like Actually yes, she is here in front of me. What the hell is this thought? Concentrate on this damn case! But there’s nothing to do. Isn’t destiny that today is a fruitful day.
-It’s eight o'clock at night…- Garcia looks up to a rose clock kitten-shaped, with its tail beating the passing of every second. But he observes the way in which some tufts of her hair fall on the neck, until the neckline. But he can divert his attention before the computer technician being aware of it.
-Well, you can go home, I still have to settle a thing.- after a moment, she understands that he has no intention to carry out her order. -I don’t need a damn bodyguard!- she says, placing angrily already digitized documents in a special folder. Luke asks himself the real reason behind this sudden anger that seems to have possessed her. Even he seems to see a reflection in her dark eyes and some crystals on her eyelashes, as if she had been crying…
-It is useless to try to fool me, Garcia. We can’t be alone until the unsub shall have been catch.- and this thing doesn’t dislike him at all. But he lets her guess this only minimally. Almost there was a game going on, between them, an endless game, destined to remain without a winner. Not at least until neither of them will make a really bold move first. Not until neither of them won’t be willing to reveal his cards.
-But imagine if, with lean JJ blonde with blue eyes, Emily brunette and slender, Tara and her shades of amber… the crazy on duty would kidnaps me! - and how many things can be in a word produced by a single syllable, two only letters? A whole world, immense suffering, an unknown past (but not too). Garcia isn’t unable to restrain herself. She wouldn’t certainly have wanted to make it clear to the agent with whom she has less relation in entire team, that she not considered herself aesthetically worthy of being the victim of a serial killer.
-Except for the fact that they will not stand alone- ugly truth, this (JJ has Will and her sons, Tara her father and her brother, Emily has Mark and Sergio) -what would you mean?- but looking at those so damned dark eyes, in those depths in which she wants so desperately to get lost and not think about the consequences (at least for one fucking time), she realizes that he knows, what, how serious is, no, she doesn’t want to think about it. But he understood everything, or better he understood too much, and the blonde is not able to deal with the repercussions of this.
-What you think- she crosses her arms, defensive -and you not have the courage to say.- now his black eyebrows are raised surprised and concerned. But it’s just her head. It’s not real. -What I’m not beautiful enough to receive flowers from a stranger, nor chocolates… therefore why with all the beautiful women available in the BAU, someone should kidnap me?- and this time there is no trace of irony in her tone, or angry, if not towards herself. They dominate the sadness, sorrow towards what she feels like an absolute truth and impossible to change. -In the movie, those like me are killed only if they are unable to mind their own business.- but she reads too much understanding into those spheres open to scrutinize her. Too much to bear. If it was any other day, but it’s that day. She goes back in many years, when her hair, tied in pigtails, came up to the knees of Luke. When she was really happy, and she hadn’t to strain every day to believe it. She is a positive person. But there is difference between hoping and believe it seriously. One difference platonic, that only those who know the Iperuranio may really understand. Damned philosopher’s exam…
When tears begin to fall, she leaves free the documents, preventing them from stain and get wet with a part of her DNA. While the salty drops continue their path down her face up to clothes, she curses herself for being so weak, so foolish as to start crying right in front of him. She would have so much need of the man who replaced him. He doesn’t tease her. He would hug her, and everything seems better. Bearable. Better than nothing. But unfortunately, when she lifts her eyes in front of her there is always the ex-ranger, tall, dark and bland-some, and terribly sexy, even when he pretending to be concerned about her. If only he hadn’t occupied just that place. If only he hadn’t joined the BAU. If only she hadn’t been so… not his kind of woman. What the hell are these thoughts? She doesn’t like him, dammit, Luke Alvez. She can’t stand him. Every time she tries to take the elevator and believes she can enjoy a minute to herself, he appears behind her and he starts doing questions about her Canadian boyfriend. And then, wretched Emily, although I love you the same, she must stand him indefinitely. Why she had to put him with her? They could all camp out in their offices. But others have their lives outside of here: moms that need help, husbands and sons, boyfriends, ex-wives not too ex… You’re damn alone. And he is no less. Although he has at least a very cute dog waiting for him every night. And heck, how difficult it is to strive to appear unpleasant when there Roxy around.
From the corner of eye, despite hers are grew cloudy, worse than if there was fog on the highway, she captures a movement. The man is always there that stares at her, but now he is really extremely too close. An alarm continues to reverberate in her head.
-Penelope…- finally it’s what comes out of his lips, so stretched out toward hers, colored. She decides to completely ignore the tone of gentleness and understanding in his voice and focus on whatever he may have done wrong.
-Don’t call me Penelope. You’re not…- but this time Luke hasn’t going to wait, to grant her time.
-I’m not..?- and the distance is still reducing. She can’t argue anything. -Derek Morgan?- still no response or sign of life. -It’s his what you meant, or not?- any signs of tenderness disappear from his expression. In its place predominates again that look of defiance that she’ll never caught. -Exactly, I’m not. I’m your partner in this case, and because you don’t…- a moment before he had earned some points and less than a thousandth of a second later, he has already ruined it.
-I don’t have…?- the tears have dried on her eyelashes. The tap is finally closed. Her cheeks are red with anger that has again conquered her heart. -I haven’t anyone?- but it sounds more like an affirmation than one rhetorical question. -JJ has Will, Emily has Mark, Tara her father and brother, Spencer his mother, Stephen his family, Rossi his ex… and I have no one and that’s why I am forced to spend Valentine’s Day with you.- it was not exactly what she wanted to say. It could easily be misinterpreted. -Why I shouldn’t cry?- she stands up and deletes the last traces wet with a sleeves, giving him shoulders, not having the courage to hear his answer, if never will be there. But a sudden grip on her arm forces her to look back at him and in a second their equally dark eyes chained each other.
-I have never said that you shouldn’t cry…- he says so gently that this time even Penelope isn’t able to argue with some pungent phrase, fired at random (but not too).
-Please, don’t try to seems sweet.- she says after a few minutes that remain silent, simply either of them ever distract the eye from the other. -I’ll come home with you, I give up.- she raises her hands imitating the gesture of surrender. And for the second time in a few hours, in his mind pass very different pictures of how he would spend Valentine’s Day with her, if he could. -But I don’t want fake sentimentality.- she is quick to argue before turning off the computer, put on hers jacket (which can’t quite mask her exuberant forms), grab the bag and walk out of her bat-cave, followed by Luke. He raises his eyes to heaven, asking for divine help to survive the evening.
The elevator ride has never been so long. Those few seconds seem immense. Neither speaks. Luke looks at her only in passing, as to make sure that she is true. She doesn’t notice it, intently staring at her shoes. They come to his car in silence. Before he has the time to open the door, Penelope is already seated. Not because she feels at home, but just to prevent him to do some act that could put her even more embarrassed. Neither has the courage to break the ice. Luke thinks of a million ways to start a conversation, but he discards them one after another. Because in the end, the only thing he would like to ask her, is the reason why just a moment ago, she burst into tears. Not only because she doesn’t consider herself suitable to the kidnapping. He is sure. There’s more to this.
Eventually, however, they stop before in front of a house of modest size. But too big for one single person. And this time the blonde can’t prevent that her coworker opens the door to her. But he stays in the doorway, when she gives him a sharp look before disappearing behind the door of her own home. She didn’t intend to share with him this part of her life. She always tried to keep it separate from work, although ten years ago she was being unable to avoid it. After just five minutes she resurfaces with a small suitcase with wheels. She looks up and immediately Luke’s eyes capture hers. Apparently, she doesn’t seem to have moved since she had left him there. He notices the way she looks at him and he understand what she is thinking.
-It’s all worked out.- she justifies herself with a shrug. The man is going to grab it out of her hands, but she avoids him, fleeing toward the car. Left alone he raises his eyes to heaven (for the umpteenth time and probably certainly not the last) before reaching her. It will be a long night, much longer than he could believe. Because when they get closer to his home, where Roxy is awaiting (unaware of the surprise that awaits her), he can’t help but imagine what he would it was going to happen with her. It’s hard to concentrate on driving, having her so close. And when they ’ll behind those walls…
He opens the door and lets her go first; in doing so their bodies brush slightly, by transmitting tremors each other, although both do ignore it. But he is less able to her to play ignorant, and at that exact moment he would reach out his arms and holds her so that the contact between them endure some more. Her perfume, her skin … enough!
The hand automatically finds the switch. Roxy is in crisis because she doesn’t know whether to greet prior the guest or her master; eventually she opts for “attacking” both simultaneously. And in doing so she forces them to stay closer. After another awkward moment, she unexpectedly speaks first.
-Show me where I’ll sleep, so tomorrow morning we’ll be able to get up early and maybe then this story will be ended.- but he takes his time, indeed. He approaches her of a few centimeters to the passing of every minute. And she didn’t move away, but she not even goes meet him. She stays still, as in shock. The last time a man looked at her that way and who behaved in a similar way, she found herself with a bullet near the heart. But he isn’t like Battle. Even if she knows him too little to be able to judge him. But he is a federal, he doesn’t want to kill her. But… why he keeps getting closer and closer? He wants to make fun of her, is the only solution. Or loneliness is playing some sort of a trick with his mind and rather than spend Valentine’s Day alone, he is willing to pretend to be interested in her. In any case, when now only two air centimeters separates their faces, fortunately Luke stops. But his hands come to life and wrapping around her face, caressing her cheeks with both thumbs.
-What… what…- for a moment she isn’t able to ask the question. -What are you doing?- his gaze seems so sweet, as when he talks about his dog. It’s been too long since a man touched her seriously. She is too vulnerable. But she can’t give up at this point. She still has a dignity. And then… she turns red at the thought of showing naked before his eyes.
-Just something I wanted to do for a long time…- he whispers, not leaving the grip, while on his full lips is painted a smile devoid of any kind of irony. Still he can’t believe this is happening. He hadn’t decided a priori that as soon as they were safe within his walls, he would make his move. However, when there was that brief contact, he realized he couldn’t continue to reject the desire the whole evening. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for a while. When he would have another chance to have Garcia to his house? -I desire you terribly… I’ll not pretend it’s not so…- he immediately captures the expression of surprise which appears on her face. -If I were a unsub, crazy and dangerous, I’d kidnap you without thinking twice.- he whispers with a sexy tone that beats any Fifty (but even Hundred) Shades of Gray, Red, Black… is the most strange and absurd compliment that she have ever receive. She can’t help but chuckle, though nervously. -I’m serious, Penelope.- her name… how it sounds on those lips… it is useless that she still to deny. She wants him, she wants him in a way so tragic and intense, to hate herself. She needs him, without knowing why. And then his fingers slipping toward her mouth, touching her lips, opening her mouth, and finally he starts to lean in his direction, making her feel all their height difference. When their mouths come into contact, everything that happened before this moment seems to fade. She doesn’t want to think about the fact that tomorrow morning, definitely, she’ll be in the throes of remorse and repentance. At least for one evening, she wants to live what will happen and nothing else. While the tongues are intertwined, conducting various dances, in the numerous minimum pause for breath, she feels so beautiful, so desired… After a few minutes his hands going to remove her jacket, without letting her, as she had watch only in the movie and this excites her more than she would like. Each button causes her a gasp. Taking courage even her fingers, colored with rainbow colors, getting under his shirt, unbuttoning it and finally meet the skin under it, run through the muscles in length and breadth. She can’t help but smile when she hears him moan with pleasure. -Penelope…- her jacket falls to the ground. The big hands of the man linger a moment, remaining on the ribs, causing her various chills. She has to give him the green light, so he finally can reach her breasts and losing his mind simultaneously. And when he realizes that he can’t really resist more, that his jeans are really too tight… he leads her into his room (where no other woman has ever set foot), making her walk backwards. He takes off her shirt, her skirt, then he is stopped from her hands and her agitated tone.
-We could… turn off the light?- she doesn’t want him to see her how she truly is, without make-up and accessories, out of her role as BAU’s omniscient genius. Without those things, she doesn’t think she can be attractive. And Luke didn’t take long to figure it out. He stares her intently, still stroking her cheek once.
-You don’t need anything else, apart from your soul, to shine before my eyes.- and after a statement like that, even the fears of Garcia falter, enough that allowed him to complete his work.
And before they become one, he looks long at her, with a mix of desire and tenderness, as if to make her understand that yes, he wants her in that sense, but there’s more behind and when he have will the courage to peer into his soul, he’ll prove it. And in that instant, she believes him.
Lying beneath his muscular body and dripping sweat, she still can’t be convinced that it really happened. Sure, she was out of practice, but he’s been… monstrous. Luke remains in this position for a while, raised his body with the arms to avoid crushing her. It was far more than what he could expected, though never before he had dared to imagine how it could be. Yet, though she seems satisfied, remains a shadow that floating on her face, trying to obscure that moment.
-What you’re thinking, chica?- a lifetime had gone by since the last time he had used that nickname for her. She hadn’t realized how much she missed until she hadn’t heard it again. There was a something personal and possessive, in that nickname in Spanish.
-That it was excellent sex, but in a few hours, my crumpled dress will be the only tangible trace of it.- he didn’t expect she would give him an answer so blunt. He is glad she told him the truth, but at the same time he didn’t like her choice of terms, to define their… Close encounter. But, thinking about it, in fact, she’s right.
-This depends on us…- he replies, without yet being able to expose himself. Penelope looks at him strangely. -If you wanted to…- he strives to take courage -…I could show you the difference between having sex and making love…- at this point the blonde pushes abruptly away him and trying to get dressed. When he tries to stop her, she begins to scream.
-Don’t try to make me believe that suddenly you’re in love with me or other silly stories like in C-movie. It’s Valentine’s Day, we found ourselves forced in this situation, I don’t… for a while, and because of the impetuousness that you have shown, I guess you too. Two frustrations have led to a few moments of satisfaction. Now we don’t have to build on this a Disney tale.- the worst is that she really seems to believe in what she says with bitterness and sadness, gradually lowering the pitch up to a kind of resignation.
-Even if I told you, you would think that is a lie, right?- she nods firmly. -So, let me try to use another kind of “speech”. If you were to have right, you just would have to making “good sex” like you insist on defining it…- and if she decides to surrender, it’s mainly because she wants to get to understand why the hell, he still wants to fool her with this story of “there is more than rubbing under the sheets”.
The next morning, they don’t get up at six, like Penelope had expected, but much later, exhausted from the second and third round. In the end he had reason; making love was something else; yet she still didn’t believe him at all, she couldn’t let go herself and risks, yet she was very close to do it. Already the first cracks in her armor of ice were visible without the aid of a microscope. Luke had understood, especially when he had awakened in the middle of the night and he had found her, resting on his chest, her face innocence of a child. But he wasn’t going to push too hard on the accelerator, he would have given her time, now that he had made a significant first step. The street to convince her that he was really interested in her as a person (not just physically), it was still very difficult and tortuous.
Yet only hours after he finds himself again back to square one.
-Where are you?- random question doesn’t seem to have any immediate effect. -Garcia?- she finally turns to him and seems to sense his presence. But she isn’t going to say anything. How she can? She has now admitted herself to be attracted to him, but what happened last night was just a lucky… case, a convergence of situations, definitely not something that will be repeated in the future. With the idea of being forced to spend the evening together, because there was a serial killer on the loose, the distorted thinking that she could become one of the victims… this must somehow have him excited, driven him to do what he did. But it was only a moment, a way to stress that they were still alive, that everything was still possible. But she couldn’t tell him, because she wouldn’t have been able to mask the fact that for her, their meeting wasn’t just sex. -Hey, it’s almost time to go to work. Criminals don’t wait!- he tries a joke that not obtain any reaction in woman. Now he really starts to worry. But when at last their eyes meet, everything becomes terribly clear. -Yet. Tell me I’m wrong, Penelope.- while he talking his tone increases the intensity. -Tell me that you aren’t again convinced that yesterday I was just… caught with the situation.- but she doesn’t respond, and a slight furrow starts to dig between them.
02/13/17
A year after that groove has become a chasm. They continued to work together, as if nothing had happened; a few months after, they start again to exchange jokes in the presence of others; but unlike previous times, there was much more behind, than some expressions two-way. It was as if each blamed the other for what had happened between them. Because in the meantime, the feelings that were unripe, have developed, settling in their souls. And taking with this resentment and regret.
The killer of roses, as the press had dubbed the unsub, which kills during the period close to Valentine’s Day and for the rest of the year will become off the grid, was still active. On February 15 the previous year Penelope and Luke had been welcomed by the dark looks of their colleagues. The name of another woman that night had been added to an already too long list. But she hadn’t been a total stranger. She was a childhood friend of Emily. The chief of the BAU had decided that there wouldn’t be another. And she was prepared to keep this promise at any cost.
To the point that she pushes JJ to give an interview, where she threw a challenge to the killer. And someone didn’t like it.
Garcia winces when she hears someone reach her behind shoulders. She was re-reading for the umpteenth time the note she had received. Like the others, it was signed cryptically. But today it contained one more particular: he tells her to wait for him the next day in the waiting room that preceded the entrance to the main offices of the heads of various departments of the FBI. She had suspected from the beginning that he was one of them, indeed, she had even hoped that could be Luke… but that wasn’t his style and basically it was better that way. She had to find a way to forget. It had been just a damn night; there had been no promises or exchange of important phrases. So why she hated him so deeply? Why a year had passed, and she couldn’t overcome it?
-Look that, we are just waiting for you…- the man was able to give only a sidelong glance at the narrow cardboard between the long fingers of the technician, remaining a bit too long staring her. But he doesn’t have enough elements to make an educated guess. Although, judging by this perfume… it’s certainly something private and … gallant. And it bothers him, a lot. Especially because before entering into Penelope’s bunker, he lingered a few minutes behind the door, hearing her talk to herself. And in this case, he understood every syllable uttered by her full lips. She believes that the type of the cards, damn if I catch you, you’re dead, is also in charge of the flowers she received during all this week… chocolates… books… everything that I gave her, accompanying each gift with a phrase (engraved on each one and inseparable from it) that I hoped would show her who was the “handler”, the “sender.” But I just made sure that the type of the cards earned more points. And I can’t even say anything, because that is going to make me look like an idiot.
-Luke? Now you’re the one lost on moon.- she chuckles slightly. She adores make fun of him and she doesn’t do anything to hide it. When he lifts his head, as always, their eyes chain up, and in those brief moments they confess million secrets, and, as Bukowski said, they make love with eyes. It’s weird how easy it’s to forget that he knows everything, that he has seen her naked in every possible way implied from the term. It’s absurd how easy it’s to continue this farce rather than admit they were wrong.
-Someone has perhaps a secret admirer?- he dares to ask, carefully watching how she arranged the different flowers (why you not go to do a damn search on the internet on their precise meaning?) and as one of the books he gave her, is open in the middle on the table. The blonde raises her eyes, annoyed (because he has no right to ask her about her private life) and yet flattered by his jealousy (because this could mean that perhaps he still feels a little something for her).
-If it was, it’s not your business.- he comes dangerously close, as he had hardly done in recent months. Because kissing her wouldn’t lead to any result, except to meet again in the horizontal position. And once it wasn’t enough, in fact, it has done more harm than good. -I know you think I can’t be worthy of receiving attention from a man, but you’re not always right.- she says it not because she believes seriously (the past year is at least served to find more self-confidence and begin to truly love herself, with or without glitter), but because she wants to force him to contradict her. With the corner of eye, she sees his hands tight a fist, the veins of his muscular arms stand out along with the muscles tense. He bends a little toward her, and, as it happens during accidents, she doesn’t seem to be able to move around and avoid catastrophe.
-I never said you didn’t deserve male attentions, but who or what tells you it’s a boy? Do you know him? You did identified him in some way?- he tries to try to make her understand that, notes aside, the man who has rekindled her smile these days, through various surprises that would show how much he had learned to know her seriously, was none other than the one she had in front of her. But Garcia doesn’t notice the love that he gives her. She just thinks that he demonstrates a kind of very childish jealousy, as if he doesn’t really want her, but at the same time he wishes that no one else feels something for her. She finally able to reactivate circulation of her blood and takes a step, leaving the door ajar. But Luke stops her before she can get out of it completely, grabbing her arm.
-Leave me! Did not you say the team was only waiting for me to expose the case? And then, let’s go. The others will be wondering if we weren’t sucked into a black hole.- but he isn’t going to do the right thing, or at least the most rational, reaching their colleagues and taking care of their work, another day pretending it’s nothing. He lets her go, but he turns towards the flowers, books and anything else that was donated by the “mysterious admirer.” She observes him in shock, unable to understand what the hell he’s doing.
-You might not be able to understand it?- he makes them all fall down in front of her. His dark eyes seem like coated with a thin veil. Might be tears, but it looks little likely. -May. You had tell JJ you liked science fiction novels of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, even more than the well known masterpieces of Sherlock Holmes.- shock increases more and more in Garcia, as she listening to him talk, associating something she said, maybe in passing, during the last year, each of the objects that she has received this week next to Valentine’s Day. -When you were a kid your favorite color was purple and you dreamed of having a horse.- also the puppet go to reach the pile at the foot of the blonde. When he silent, she remains for a moment to stare him, unable to pronounce the truth in a loud voice: it was him. Luke Alvez knew her better than herself. But… why?
-But… but… those notes… those words… why you didn’t write something that would make me realize that you were behind this?- the Latin sighs, frustrated.
-I never sent you any note.- a shiver runs through the body of the computer technician. Not for pleasure, but of sheer terror.
-So… who did write this?- just then the door opens and Rossi appears, the worried look that turns quickly in surprised and confused to see them like that, all those objects and flowers on the floor.
-Luke, Penelope, we were about to send out the search team…- no one laughs at his joke. -What the hell happened here inside?- it doesn’t take a profiler to note that both are blushing and launch murderous glances at each other. -Where’d this come from?- before he can make time to talk, the man is preceded by Garcia.
-I have a secret admirer. I was arranging this mess, when Luke came to warn me that the meeting was about to begin, and… we clashed. He was giving me a hand to collect everything.- the explanation given is credible enough, but Dave feels that doesn’t properly correspond to the truth. Before entering he felt them shouting each other and neither of them was bent or it was going to resetting… But he decides to overlook. They have already lost too much time. The blonde throws a sharp look at Luke, who wonders why she wanted to cover him, and if he has to positively interpret this attitude or rather the exact opposite. At the end he gives up and follows the other two down the hall to the meeting room. He tries to ignore it, but it’s impossible not to notice the mischievous look of JJ, the confusion of Reid, doubts painted on the faces of the rest of the agents.
Emily rolls her eyes and finally begins to expose the case that everyone knows very well -The last victim was Sasha Ivanova . And I emphasize “last.” As I said a year ago, there haven’t to be others. We have to catch the unsub. We have had more than ten years to take him, he was being free to do what he wanted. It’s time somebody ruins his plans.- anger in her eyes is evident and it’s also transmitted in the way she holding the remote control. -But I have not called you here to reiterate the obvious. There is news.- Luke subconsciously search for Penelope’s eyes and her hand (but not implement his own thoughts). -Chicago police found some interesting details…. Each of the victims under their jurisdiction had received “gifts” from a secret admirer, in the week before the murder.- after the last sentence also Rossi stares Garcia, who looks toward her shoes, hoping to disappear.
-But especially, they found some notes. The hand that had written them is the same in all cases.- now Agent Alvez feels really fear, fear for this woman, so damn stubborn that she would be willing to get kidnapped in order not to let people know that he is the author of the gifts she has received… but not the notes. And she is willing to risk, in order to prove that she has reason: she isn’t a type that someone might abducting, consequently she runs no risk.
-Garcia, can we talk for a moment face-to-face?- the woman takes a second too long to get up. Luke would follow them, but he doesn’t know what excuse to adopt. -All those gifts that I saw in your room… there were some notes to accompany them?- she doesn’t know what to say. Betraying Luke? Or rather betray herself, because what David will think, when he’ll know that she lied about something like that?
Left in the meeting room, Luke can’t concentrate on what his colleagues are saying. Conversations come to his brain as muted, as if he had cotton in his ears or was in a soap bubble. He can’t think of anything other than what they are saying? And the answer comes soon enough. The oldest agent returns alone. Things get worse than he expected.
-What’s going on, Dave?- Emily finally gives voice to what everyone is wondering.
-Penelope received very similar gifts to those you have just described a moment ago.- everyone except Luke, open their astonished eyes. -And even the famous notes. No need for a graphologist for sentencing that were written by the same person.- JJ launches a desperate look toward Reid.
-What? Why she doesn’t told us about it? And where is she?- the young genius puts his arm around the blonde, now in tears. Tara stays more composed, but she is equally worried.
-She is in my office. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, and we don’t know when the unsub will hit. Just finished here, I’ll accompany her in the secret areas of the FBI for Witness Protection.- the ex-ranger immediately guess the future: he not see her again for who knows how long, if not forever. It’s not an acceptable perspective. But even the idea that she can seriously become the next victim of the killer of roses. If only she would leave herself to protect by me! He has before him an important choice: are more important his own selfish needs or the safety of the computer technician?
-We can’t even greet her?- no one could answer negatively the desperate request of the blonde of the FBI. The oldest in the room nods his head and everybody make their way to his office. Luke last, lost in his thought. I can’t let her go. I can’t lose her. Rossi knocks with two shots, then he pauses, and he knocks other three times. The door opens, and Penelope appears that tries to hold back tears, with poor results. The impulse to rush to comfort her is strong, more than any other he has had at this year’s “separation” and abstinence, to kiss her or hold her so their bodies again converging. But yet he resists, with the last of patience grains he’s got. In the room they are eight of them, but, as one of the classic cliché, it’s just them in there. Their eyes are fixed, inseparable, they are seemingly oblivious to what is happening around; they carry on one conversation parallel to the verbal one. She is pleading him not to do what he thinks, and he, in turn, he’s apologizing because he can’t perform what she asks.
-Penelope… Why didn’t you tell us anything?- the women of the team surround their friend, partially interrupting the visual contact between the two. It’s the leader who speaks, while JJ strives not to cry in turn. She thinks of the day that saved her life, shooting point-blank at her attempted assassin. You do whatever it takes to protect your family.
-I… I didn’t think it had to do with the case. I was seeing one of the security officers of the first-floor and… I thought he was just very shy. - Luke feels a sharp pain in his chest at this revelation. But she is saying the truth, or it’s just a way to escape from him?
-No, not again. This time I’ll not allow to happen what happened with Battle.- the brunette says resolutely. Now Tara, Stephen, not to mention the agent Alvez, are even more confused. Meanwhile, the self-control of the latter is going more and more going to hell. -A policeman with murderess hero syndrome…- Prentiss begins to explain, but she is blocked by their own victim-subject of the story.
-I know that you will do everything to stop it.- she glances her very clear. Don’t speak of this matter. She doesn’t want him to know. She doesn’t want he knows this part of her life, this is connecting directly to a person and a series of misunderstandings that led where she is now. It doesn’t matter that for this man (damned the day when Hotch asked him to work with the BAU!) she now feels a much stronger feeling of confusion than a year earlier.
-I hate having to be a spoilsport, but… we have to go.- Rossi changes the subject. Luke observes Penelope, the woman for whom he feels more than he wanted (because this has greatly complicated his life) taking her own bag. He decided that this time he’ll not let her go away, like that day nearly a year ago.
-Wait! I have something to say.- everyone turns toward him. Garcia silently shouts him to stop. We can go on like this. We can pretend that nothing happened. Only you and me, know that. -I’m sorry. I gave her those things. Not the unsub. Except for the notes.- he adds bitterly. He explicitly turns to her and everyone understand the implications at stake. JJ wonders how it’s possible that she not noticed what had happened between her best friend, godmother of her children, and the Newbie. Sure, there were some incidents that had given her to think about, like when he played with the remote control in the meeting room and he had taken time considerable to pass it at her. Not to mention the countless times she had caught him staring at her. Yet she didn’t connect the dots. What stupid! -I’m sorry, Penelope. I know you didn’t want others to know, but I can’t allow you to finish in the witness protection program and disappear forever… just because I’m unable to deal with the complexity of the feelings that you arouses in me.- behold, he had said this. Now there’s no going back. Now everybody knows, including her. She stares him even more astonished than before, if possible.
-This doesn’t change anything, however.- the pure wisdom of Rossi intrudes, he’s not just able to realize that his kitten has a true lover, willing to do anything for her, even humiliate publicly himself or expose himself to rejection. -The writing matches perfectly, meaning that Garcia is still among the potential victims of the killer of roses.- the dark man nods, but he still seems to have something to say. Also, because all the others are still paralyzed by the news.
-I’m aware that she is still in danger, but… I would like to be able to contribute to her security, if you allow me… I participated in several operations of the witness protection program. I know how it works. And if the killer is clever enough, no protection is enough. I also feel that Garcia was chosen for a reason. Her belonging to the team.- finally someone seems to be able to recover.
-I understand what you want to mean. With this press conference, Prentiss has virtually challenged the unsub. Or in any case, it’s what seemed to him.- Reid asserts, while his face assumes the classic thinker’s poses.
-But then why he hasn’t hooked me up?- the chief asks.
-Because Garcia was … the woman most low-risk.- saying this, he knows he hurts her. But it’s better an ugly truth than a pretty lie, but with little lasting and more harmful effects in the long run. -You, Emily, live with your boyfriend… JJ has a whole family thinking about her, while Tara has returned to live with her father and brother… Penelope is simply the only woman in BAU… lonely.- and adding this, he transmits the idea that it’s her fault. It was mainly her stubbornness and her belief that he can’t absolutely like her, what had truncated any possibility of a serious development between them, a year earlier. And he was too confused at the time of their past, to prevent her from doing that bullshit.
-I’m fear you’re right, Luke.- the Italian admits. -And then, what is your proposal?- if he could say exactly what he thinks! Go to my house, make her a special dinner, talk, talk for hours, explain and ask for explanations. Try to find a way to make her understand how difficult it was this long year, because her coldness has hurt me, how I wanted to hold her, even by force, and only tell her I’m sorry, I’m very confused, but not enough to let you go away. How I wanted to try the feeling of having her lips fused with my own, and the courage to ask her if she, too, at least once, maybe before going to sleep, she felt that loneliness hug her, hold her in a vise that is neither liberating nor consoling. And then try to convince her that I’m able to protect her, I can do it, I’ll always be here, whenever she needs it. That I know her more than she would like, but certainly not as much as I would like. That it wasn’t just sex, even that night. And finally, that I haven’t been here for many years of her life (certainly not my fault); but I’m here now.
-I think that if the unsub discovered that she is no longer alone- not all notice the choice of words, the use of present (although hypothetical) which indicates that what follows this verb corresponds to a fact existing and not an uncertain possibility (what really is, in this case) -he’ll change the target. And though this would mean that another woman would run the risk of being killed… I feel I can be partly selfish, this time.- and the sense of his theory is more readily apparent to all.
-You would pretend to be her boyfriend until we take him?- a break. -We may need days as years. This is no light commitment. Or maybe you want to make a back and forth around the time of Valentine’s Day, doing the exact opposite of many males that not want to buy a gift for their lovers and fulfill the duty imposed on them by the capitalist society we live in?- it seems that talking was Reid instead is Emily the one make fun of him affectionately. For Luke the idea of having to protect her for years has certainly not displayed as a burden. Everything is relative, depending on the perspective from which you look at things. As an old man who breaks a mirror: he’ll be happy to have yet seven years (of trouble).
-According to me, you hope, rather, that continue to pretend, Garcia forget what the truth is and fall into your arms!- JJ also helps to lighten the atmosphere. The idea that another woman could be killed tonight and that they will have to investigate her death, now doesn’t even brush them. Even profilers have the right to a little serenity.
02/15/18
He finds her exactly where he thought: standing in front of the monsters’ wall, that is, every unsub that they had captured over the years, since the unit had opened its doors, long before they worked on it, both she and him, or that they met. He vividly remembered the moment Emily had hung that picture, while she was crying, a prayer to her disappearance friend, she, that didn’t believe or didn’t want to believe in any kind of God. Even the woman at this moment in front of him, she had a giant tight in the throat, that day and although she wasn’t able to consume mourning, allowed him to console her, to lay his hands on her shoulders, to embrace her. And she let him shout at her, not wanting to go along her, this time, while repeating like a mantra, before the image of yet another tragic murdered woman, surrounded by rose buds - It should have been me, there. It should have been me. It was no less blurred in his memory the moment when he had called to tell her -It’s over.- and how they had made love, directly to her office, as soon as he got off the jet, exhausted and alone desiring to sleep indefinitely. And as he found the strength for a second round, but this time there hadn’t been a third. But the next morning she was still there, in his arms, and although she was very embarrassed and awkward, she had not tried to escape. She had preferred to hide her face on his skin, which had finally absorbed those tears for too long withheld (for the year they had lost, because she wasn’t been the victim), she had tried to disappear to merge with him. And then she had re-emerged from the abyss and the other side had found right this man, patient as always, determined as never before.
She feels his presence behind. If even she hadn’t recognized his walk or his scent, she hadn’t need to be a profiler, or put a motion detector in his cellphone, to identify the person who appeared behind her. She not turns to look at him.
-I seems absurd that has passed already almost a year. I realize that it’s a banality that doesn’t suit me, but sometimes it’s as if it happened yesterday, others days seem to me full years passed and much more often… it seems it never ended.- he didn’t say anything. He moves at her side, to look exactly the same direction of the woman. His arm around her shoulders and in that single gesture there are friendship, respect, love, understanding, desire, consolation. -And even more comical, or tragic, depending on how you look at it, it’s that I owe my happiness to a serial killer.- she turns completely to him. It’s not need to replicate anything. It’s like this were a conversation made thousands of times, a ritual. Purifying.
-Let’s go home.-
TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee @itsdawnashlie @talesoffairies @janiedreams88 @kiki-krakatoa @yessenia993 @teyamarra @c00lhandsluke @gcchic @arses21434 @orangesickle @entireoranges @jarmin @kathy5654 @martinab26 @thisonekid @thenibblets @perfectly-penelope @ambrosiaswhispers @maziikeen92 @lovelukealvez @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @ichooseno @ megs2219 @rkt3357 @franklintrixie @thinitta @chewwy123 @skisun @maba84 @saisnarry @myhollyhanna23 @thenorthernlytes
#garvez#penelope garcia#luke alvez#luke x penelope#penelope x luke#garcia x alvez#alvez x garcia#criminal minds#cm#valentinesday
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Unspoken || Eugene x Reader
@kallaralda requested:
reader joined group not long before Alexandria; Eugene obviously infatuated; (she is, too) but holds back due to him not being the 'heroic protective type' and she recently lost loved one(s) because they were weak and she couldn't protect them at all times (guilt/afraid to repeat loss); at Deanna's party she gets tipsy w/her homie Tara and kinda spills the beans/coming onto Eugene.
Summary: Basically that ^^, the reader and Eugene have feelings for each other that neither of them has acknowledged. Both have to be pushed a little bit to face up to the facts. Just a lot of fluff, no smut on this one.
The road’s been a long one. Every day that you manage to successfully get up out of bed without a crushing sense of grief or self-loathing is one you consider to be a success. Somedays it feels like it gets easier, and it might go on like that for a time, until the day comes that it’s as if she’s died all over again and you can’t bear to move. You wouldn’t want anyone to see you sob anyhow, and thankfully you have privacy enough now to keep it hidden.
On days that you can’t come out you’ll hear a knock at your door and be met with a new boardgame or book or something that’ll occupy your fingers and mind for the day when manual labor can’t. You were suspicious when this initially happened and the board game that met you was Risk, something you and Eugene had talked about at length once. It was doubly telling that he showed up later to check on you and managed to talk you into a game with him. Or two.
You knew for certain it was him when Vonda N. McIntyre’s Dreamsnake was left waiting for you at the door. Naught but a day ago he had been telling you that if you liked reading sci-fi, she was the author to check out- if you hadn’t already. Eugene had seen to it and you were grateful for the distraction. Huddled in bed with red eyes and tissues, reading about Snake the healer, you wondered that she wasn’t working her magic on you and your grief. Or, perhaps, that Eugene was. A warm feeling pooled in your stomach at that.
Is there something going on here? It’s a question you’ve found yourself contemplating about your friendship with Eugene more than once. You take a special enjoyment in his company, in the mutual interests you both can talk about that you can’t with anyone else- that you haven’t been able to in years, really. If ever. There’s something endearing about him that touches you deeper than friendship normally would and so you just have to wonder.
You have to wonder too if that sort of thing would even be on his radar. There seems to be a very strong possibility a confession to him about this might scare him away completely. You just don’t know and, for this reason, you try not to think of him in these terms, but it’s getting harder everyday to think of him as anything but. How did this even happen...?
Of course, you have other friends- Tara, being a close one. She understands what it’s like to lose a sister and it’s on this point that you two have commiserated before. She’s advised you that you just have to take it one day at a time with your grief, and that’s what you do to the best of your ability. It’s with her that you spend your time during the welcome party thing at Deanna’s, because it seems everyone else is part of a coupling and you think even if you sought out Eugene it might be kind of awkward at this weird, couples-only retreat kind of feel this whole thing has.
Tara feels similarly, so you both make off with a large bottle of wine onto the porch swing outside. It feels nice to sit in the calm, cool quiet of the evening and laugh together. If not for the huge, metal walls encasing the place it would almost feel as if nothing in the world had changed. You’ve learned to treasure moments of normalcy like this.
Somehow the conversation switches to a matter you hadn’t intended to discuss, but you’re several glasses into this bottle now, and well...forbearance really isn’t on the menu.
“Of course, it’s nothing like the huge crush Eugene has on you. I mean, jesus, you’d think it was middle school all over again.”
Whatever she was comparing said crush to you already forgot, as instead you begin to choke on and splutter out your wine.
“Sorry, what did you say...?”
Tara’s got the very telling deer-in-the-headlights look.
“Uh...! Shit, I wasn’t supposed to tell.”
“Well the cat’s out of the bag now, so...come on, tell me, how long has this been going on?”
Tara thinks a moment and you can see the gears working in her head as she rifles through the wobbly, somewhat blurry timeline that has been your journey here. It’s hard to even remember what day it is sometimes, so you’re patient.
“Uhh...hard to say, really. I think I weaseled the truth out of him not long before we got here, but I’d bet money he’s been holding a torch for you longer than that. Sorry. Please don’t tell him I told you?”
You can’t help or even remotely stifle the grin that this revelation has elicited, indicating to Tara that an apology isn’t required here whatsoever. Your dopey grin isn’t lost on her.
“Oh my god... do you have feelings for him too?” Tara’s grinning now just as much, though in a more devious way that makes you nervous. She’s not thinking of playing matchmaker is she?
“You know, I-...yeah. Yeah, I think I do.” You admit, though you’re trying to play it cool and coy even as your smile still betrays you.
“Well, what the fuck, what’ve you guys been waiting for?”
You sigh and rest your head on your hand, though you look more wistful than annoyed. “It’s not that simple, Tara...”
Tara’s having none of your flimsy excuses.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but society as we knew it has collapsed and the dead are walking the earth. Chances of long term survival out here are decidedly remote. Trust me, it is that simple. It is now. You have to tell people how you feel, while the opportunity is there.”
Tara’s tugged at something deep within you that you didn’t realize wouldn’t hurt as much as it does. You try to keep your shit together but the reminder of what you didn’t do before your sister was taken by Walkers is too much to deal with. You excuse yourself and head back home, Tara calling after you in confusion.
----------------
You hate yourself for how this is propelled you into another unproductive day, wallowing in bed (well, the wine had something to do with that too, of course). Your head hurts and your stomach aches and crying really isn’t helping your hangover dehydration, but you can’t seem to stop. At least the room is dark, right?
You didn’t expect to hear the sound of feet coming up the stairs and the top floor, so you power through your aching to sit up, turn on the light and grab the gun you keep under the bed and point it at whoever comes through the door.
“No, no, no it’s just me, don’t shoot-!”
You don’t suppose the paperback novel Eugene seems to be hiding behind is going to do much good, but you’re too startled to see him to make a snide comment to this effect.
“Eugene...! What are you doing here...?”
Your heart begins to race a bit. No matter how much wine you might have had you haven’t forgotten the conversation between yourself and Tara.
“...my apologies for the intrusion...” Eugene attempts, once he’s ascertained that you’ve put the gun down. “You weren’t answering the door and said door happened to be open- normally, I wouldn’t exploit this fact but I was alerted of the fact earlier that you left Deanna’s party in something of an upset, so I felt I’d be remiss and not a very good friend if I didn’t take the liberty of a welfare check.”
You slink back down into your covers.
“...you should know it’s not like that. I mean, I’m sad, quite possibly depressed but-” You know it’s unnecessary, but you’re ashamed even so.
“Yes, I do know that, but...fact of the matter is, I was concerned even so and would continue to be until I heard otherwise from you. Also...I happen to come bearing gifts.”
He hands over Heinlein’s Time for the Stars with an apologetic explanation of, “This one gets a little technically incestuous, but that’s just par for the course to those of us that enjoyed Game of Thrones. Also, Heinlein’s a must where concerns the genre.”
You smile weakly up at him and hug the book to your chest, content notwithstanding. “Thanks, Eugene.”
He nods and stands there a moment, somewhat awkward, while you go over in your mind the pros and cons of bringing up what you and Tara had discussed earlier. After a time he excuses himself quickly and makes to leave, but you manage to get a hold of his wrist.
“I know you have things to do today, I just...hoped we could talk.”
He nods, amenable, and you invite him to have a seat beside you on the bed.
“Tara and I were talking last night...” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “Some things were said under the influence of wine that...maybe shouldn’t have been, but, well...the deed is done, as it were.”
His eyes get a bit wider and there’s a definite flush to his cheeks. It would seem he’s , at least in part, already ascertained what it is you’re going to say.
“Well, it’s just...she mentioned that-...you might have feelings for me...?”
Eugene’s not able to hold eye contact with you anymore and instead looks sheepishly down at the floor, working his jaw nervously.
“I have...strong feelings of friendly affection, as I’m sure we both do-”
“No, no. You know what I mean.”
He’s growing more visibly upset by the minute, ever eager, you guess, to escape this situation.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather we not discuss it,” he says, his voice firm even if he still can’t make eye contact. “I’ve been down this road before, too many times to count but enough to know exactly how this will pan out without having to relive the embarrassment and disappointment seemingly on repeat.”
“Eugene-”
“While you value me very much as a friend you don’t and never will see me in any light other than the aforementioned. You don’t want to hurt me, but you have to be honest. I know. It’s the same every time. I had just hoped we could perhaps rise above the trite and cliched and pretend things are business as usual without skipping a beat. But if you feel it’s necessary to walk me through that which I am very familiar, please do so quickly as Deanna has a schedule for me to stick to.”
“Eugene...!” You all but shout, sitting up to grab a hold of his arm. “I feel the same.”
He’s slightly confused but decides to fave a more pessimistic interpretation of what you’ve said and replies, “I’m glad we understand each other, then.”
“No, no! Oh, for godssake...”
There’s nothing for it but to kiss him, really, and you’re more than happy to oblige, so you move forward to do just that. It’s quick and gentle at first, a short burst of elation in the pit of your stomach. Pulling back, you see him only staring back at you, stunned, speechless.
“Like I said,” you remind him. “I feel the same.”
He stares at you a moment, stunned, before managing a shaky, “Oh...”
You smile at him, warm and reassuring and pull him gently towards you. “Do you have to leave now...?”
He probably does, but the concern that was there earlier for keeping to a schedule is mysteriously gone.
“Not necessarily...I wager I could spare a quarter of an hour or so.”
“Then stay with me,” you suggest. “Just for a little while.”
Eugene is more than happy to oblige. You lay down with him and wrap his arm around your waist. It’s so much better to have someone here that you trust so completely. It doesn’t hurt that he’s warm and solid, too. He seems unsure at first of where to put his hands or how, but when you lace your fingers with his all feels right and natural between you both.
Neither of you has any idea where this will lead, how long it’ll last, but you learned long ago to stop asking yourself those questions. Life is for the living, life is right now- and right now, you’re both lucky enough to be spending the present moment in each other’s arms.
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I realized I never made a post how San Diego Comic-Con 2017 was so here you guys go!
@theouterrimjob went with me and it was a college friend who got the tickets for us. I won’t get into detail but that was a fucking mess and we almost didn’t end up going because he was kind of being a dick about it. But it worked out kind of and not only did we get tickets but we got ‘professional’ passes ooooooh so special lol
Day 1 Thursday: I finished work that day so I didn’t actually get to go into the convention center so we missed that day. I worked 3 flights that day, PWM-IAD and a CVG turn and after than I caught 2:35pm (et) San Diego flight and arrived in San Diego at 4:30pm (pt). Rachel had to wait for me! We met up with my college friend, Micheal and his friend Noel.
Day 2 Friday: Rachel and I dress up as Harley Quinn and Catwoman XD
This picture was actually featured on Rotten Tomatoes XDDDDDDDD
We tried to stand in line for Hall H for ‘The Walking Dead’ and ‘Game of Thrones’ panel but we were naive. We waited in line for 4 hours and we missed both panels lol I actually took a nap while we were in line. People apparently camp out for Hall H so we didn’t have a chance and we didn’t even bother to stand in line for Marvel and DC panels the next day. But we eventually entered Hall H and we saw the panels for ‘Preacher’ and ‘The Defenders.’ I don’t watch Preacher but it was random to see Seth Rogan come out, I guess he’s a producer? Okay? The Defenders was awesome because they actually showed us the FIRST WHOLE episode. That was wild. I didn’t think they were going to show up a full length episode!!!!!! It was GOOD!!!!!! ANd Sigourney Weaver showed up wtf!!!!!!
After that we walked around some more and went to another Panel that was showing that new ‘Batman and Harley Quinn’ animated movie. I was surprised again that they showed us the WHOLE movie! 2 hours long! I thought we were seeing a sneak peek lol It was cool because it had the same animation styled as the Batman Animated series and Kevin Conroy’s voice was Batman! It was good, some parts I really liked and other parts I didn’t but it was very nostalgia.
Day 3 Saturday: We dressed up again! This time I was Wonder Woman and Rachel was classic Harley!
And that day we got featured in the LA TIMES!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHh I did not know they were with the LA times lol
We walked around the floor more that day because damn that place is BIG! We did not even get halfway through the day before. But damn that killed my FEET because I was a fool and wore 5 inch heels...
We also went to the panel celebrating Harley Quinn for 25 years! All the creators (minus Bruce Timm) and Tara Strong were there so that was cool. And lol I don’t know if you guys saw this post but yeah that did happen. I just found it funny the girl was arguing with the creators lol (but I probably would too with some other characters) but gurrrrrrrrrrl come on. But Rachel got to take a picture with Tara and the whole panel and Rachel can tell you what Tara told her :)
We were really tired by the 4pm and so we decided to go back to the hotel to take a nap since we weren’t that far away and try to catch this panel at 7pm. But LOL we slept to 9PM!!!!! Oh my god. And when we woke up...we just went back to sleep....I mean I guess we needed it...but we missed the DC cast!!! Because apparently they went on the floor while we were fucking sleeping (on a deck above the people but still)!!!!
Day 4 Sunday: Regular CLOTHES booo but it was nice to walk around the floor without getting stopped every five seconds. Rachel really wanted to get this ‘exclusive’ Guardians of the Galaxy T-shirt that you could only get if you donated blood. Rachel was able to donate but my vein went flat when they tried to take my blood and I think I was dehydrated because they couldn’t find any veins on either side of my arms...yeah I know I wasn’t at peak health when I did that but I still got the free t-shirt!!! Lol I think I deserved it after getting poked with a needle a bunch of times!
San Diego Comic-Con 2017 was fun but OH MY GOD so many friggin’ people! It was like a meat factory and we were being herded around like cattle AHHH. I hated that part. YOu had to wait in line to wait in lines and wait to sit down and etc, etc. TOO MANY PPL GO AWAY! And tbh I was really surprised there weren’t as many cosplayers there as I thought there would be. Like it was slightly disappointing. Barely any compared to all the damn PEOPLE. But I’m glad I dressed up, it was fun!
Oh and I forgot to mention, not only did I see ‘the Defenders’ cast and ‘Preacher’ cast we also saw ‘The Black Panther,’ ‘Outlander,’ ‘IZombie,’ ‘Arrow,’ and ‘Twin Peaks’ casts. So close to them but so far away! Idk we might have seen more but like I said there are so many damn ppl blocking the way.
Tbh I never thought I would ever go to SDCC in my life!!!! A experience of a lifetime!!!!!!
#San Diego Comic-Con 2017#gotta do it at least once#but omg the amount of ppl make it unenjoyable sometimes
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Why it drives me insane when televison writes strong women poorly: a novel
OKAY boyos, time to get into something that has been bothering me for quite a while: how writers in mainstream television write “strong women.” We’ll be delving into a few of the obvious characters, like Daenerys Targaryen from the HBO show you’ve heard about unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past 6 years, Game of Thrones. We will also take a look at someone you might not have heard of, Dr. Tara Knowles from the now defunct but excellent Sons of Anarchy (minor plug: I’ve been bingeing this show for a couple weeks now and it is fantastic, I definitely recommend it). We will then look at one of my favorite characters from Orange is the New Black, Sophia Burset and her relationship with her wife. Then we will turn to the opposite end of the spectrum, with everyone’s wife we love to hate: Skyler White from Breaking Bad. We will also look at a character from a show I’m betting absolutely none of you have heard of but was an integral part of my childhood, Northern Exposure and the character of Shelly Tambo.
Okay, pals. Let me start off by saying I really appreciate what the mainstream is trying to do with women on TV nowadays. There really are some genuinely strong female characters out there right now. Once Upon a Time, despite having outlived its usefulness like literally five years ago, has a whole fuckin cadre of strong badass women (Snow White, Emma, the evil queen, Mulan, to name a few. I’ve only watched the first two seasons of that one so if I miss any other good characters I”m sorry). Orange is the New Black despite arguably going down in quality the last couple years, is chock full of dynamic and fascinating women of color.
But I have this theory. You see, boyos, I have noticed this happening time and time again when a TV writer or writers wants to make a strong female character. Great! You’ve taken one step in a thousand step series to make women equal to men on television! Wahoo! But instead of actually writing these women as strong, they write her, you see, as The Bitch.
There is a very distinct difference between The Bitch and an actual strong female character. A strong female character (I’m going to start referring to that as SFC) is layered. She is dynamic and interesting and would be so without the men in her life. She has no problem raising her voice when she needs to, but knows when and where this voice raising would have the most effect. She is a BadAss (tm). She has relationships with someone other than her husband/SO, and her relationship with that SO is compelling and they are on equal ground in the relationship.
The Bitch, on the other hand, is none of those things. I am not going to get into it in too much detail, but two of the characters I previously mentioned I think solidly belong in this category. TV writers who write The Bitch think that she is a SFC but she is actuallly not because all she does is scream at her husband who is trying to (in the case of Breaking Bad especially) give her the entire world. The Bitch of course may have other layers, but in my experience the character is mainly remembered for being shitty to her decent SO for absolutely no reason because some writer thinks that makes her “strong.” We will explore this in more depth later. TV writers sometimes think that to be a SFC a woman just has to scream a lot and throw things, and while SFC do do this sometimes, their characters have way more substance beyond just pitching a fit.
Okay boyos let’s get down to the characters I mentioned previously. First, there is Dany from GOT.
Ya’ll know Dany, I bet, even if you’re one of the small fraction of humanity that hasn’t seen GOT. She’s the cool dragon lady. She is literally the badest bitch in the whole damn series of GOT (sorry not sorry, Cersei). She went from being just the younger sister of one of the biggest assholes in GOT (which, let’s face it, is pretty hard in GOT where assholes abound. Looking at you, Peter Baelish!).
You’ve probably seen some screencap or another of her being strong and awesome like this one.
So, let’s discuss. Is Dany a strong female character or The Bitch?
Well, first off, the leading causes of why I label a person as The Bitch is they are shitty to their otherwise well-intending significant other. Dany in the first season of the show is married to the still-missed Khal Drogo. She is absolutely not shitty to him, despite their relationship getting off to a bad start (there’s controversy over whether he raped her in the books or not. I’m not getting into that can of worms here, but we can all agree in the books and the series their relationship develops into one of mutual respect, right? Right).
She is calm and poised. She knows exactly when she needs to strike and when she needs to show mercy in a city she has conquered (did I mention that she fucking CONQUERS CITIES???? Not even freaking Jon Snow does that), She also knows when she needs to burn the whole motherfucking city down as she did in the last season of the show. And, she has complex and interesting relationships with other women, whether it be her handmaidens or her friend Missandei who she literally rescues from slavery.
There’s also her relationship with middle-aged eye candy Jorah Mormont.
Seriously look at this guy. This actor has aged like fine wine.
We’ll overlook how much creepier their relationship is in the book where he is still a middle aged dude and she is thirteen at the outset of the books (problematic yes but thankfully Dany’s been aged up in the series so it’s maybe a little better? Sorry I digress) and look at how they treat each other. Jorah is one of Dany’s most trusted advisors. He’s been with her since she married Khal Drogo and has been loyal to her from the beginning. There’s just one small hitch: he was originally spying on her for the old dead king, Robert Baratheon. Once Dany finds this out, she completely does the right thing and kicks his ass right out. She is 100% justified in doing so and it completely breaks her heart because she knows how much he loves her and he literally wandered the desert with her and almost died of dehydration with her back in book 2/ season 2. He gave her the motherfucking dragon eggs for christ’s sake, but he betrayed her and Dany has no problem throwing his lying ass out.
BUT, she also gives him the chance to redeem himself when he returns to her a few seasons later with Greyscale, the debilitating GOT disease I am so thankful does not exist in real life that literally gradually turns the afflicted into a statue. Dany tells Jorah to leave her, and find the cure, and return to her, because she knows just being away from her slaying presence is punishment enough for any man.
So, Dany is actually indeed a SFC and not The Bitch because she can actually have a healthy relationship with the men in her life without being a complete asshole for no reason. Shine on, Khaleesi.
Now let’s talk about one of my favorite characters from SOA (besides Tig. I fucking love Tig. You guys should all watch this show its fantastic and based off Hamlet) Dr. Tara Knowles. In case you haven’t seen SOA, this is the lovely Tara.
SOA mainly focuses on the “motorcycle club” the Sons of Anarchy, but there are a couple women on the show who really make the show what it is. One of them is Gemma Teller (another fucking badass woman but sadly not the focus of today’s blog post) and the other is Tara Knowles. She is the “old lady” of the VP of the club and star of the show, Jax Teller.
Jax and Tara have an interesting relationship, in part because the club kind of has a way of treating women who are not considered “old ladies” and therefore untouchable but other members of the club, pretty shittily. Before the start of the show, we learn that Tara and Jax were in love when they were teenagers before Tara left their hometown of Charming, CA for ten years to go to medical school in Chicago and complete her residency.
Now Tara is an interesting point on this list because she could very easily be put in The Bitch category, but I will argue that she should be placed squarely in the SFC camp. First of all, she did leave Jax all those years ago, but you have to remember that Jax is the heir apparent (his father started the club) to the SOA, and they do a whole mess of nasty, illegal shit, including but not limited to, murder, maiming, arson, robbery, witness intimidation, gun-running of illegal weapons, and so on. What eighteen year old wouldn’t be terrified? She is also known to be kind of shitty to Jax, but to be fair he is shitty right back. He sleeps around, even after she becomes pregnant (unbeknownst to him at the time) and is even mean to her to convince her to leave him because he doesn’t want her to have to spend the rest of her life with him, because he knows he can’t leave the club.
Tara can be kind of seen as the Hilary Clinton of SOA. She stays with Jax no matter what happens between them. They hurt each other, but they love each other. What makes the difference is that Tara doesn’t put up with Jax’s shit anymore than he puts up with hers. Tara is arguably in the worst position of any of the women on this list. Her SO is a member of this godawful club and part of how they deal with it is through him being brutally honest to her. She gets all the gory details of what the club is up to. Does she scream at him, distrust him, and act like a “strong woman?” No, she takes the hard path. She does trust him. She loves him. But she is not afraid to tell him the truth. In Season 4, Ep. 6 she tells him, calmly and with no screaming or bitchery, “It’s about this. How you guys treat women.” Multiple times throughout the series, she gets her point across without resorting to pitching a fit, because she and Jax consider themselves to be equals to one another. Their relationship is far from perfect, but they make it work somehow.
To sum up, go Tara for being a strong woman without being an asshole to Jax!!
A small disclaimer before we discuss Sophia Burset, played by the always fantastic Laverne Cox. Sophia is the only woman of color or transgender character on this list, and for that I sincerely apologize. I picked characters that really stood out to me one way or another as an SFC or Bitch. There are tons of other strong WOCs on OITNB, like Taystee, Poussey, Suzanne, Daya, Gloria, Flaca, and Maritza to name a few, but I chose to focus on Sophia because of her relationship with her significant other, which is also why the other characters on this list were chosen.
Anyway, OITNB shows in flashbacks the relationship inmate Sophia Burset had with her wife and son before she was imprisoned. She is kind to her wife through all the stages of her transition, and it’s clear in the flashbacks that they were respectful of each other before Sophia was arrested for credit card fraud. This is why Sophia fits solidly into the SFC category. Also she’s just generally a badass and I love this character so much. She is a perfect example of how a character can be a strong female character without having to be an asshole to their SO for no reason. The show could have chosen to have her turn on her wife or vice versa while she was transitioning, but instead it chose to have them stand by each other, even having Crystal visit Sophia while she was in prison.
Sophia is just an all around badass to be honest, which is why she’s on theis list. She is a transgender character played by a transgender actress and isn’t on the show just to the the butt of transphobic jokes. I hope OITNB does more with her!! you go, girl.
Okay, now we’re crossing into territory of women who I do consider to be The Bitch. Let’s start with arguably the worst character ever to grace the small screen in recent memory, Skyler White.
Look how smug she looks
Anyway, as most of you know, Breaking Bad is about a high school chemistry teacher diagnosed with lung cancer who starts cooking crystal meth so he can leave behind money for his family when he’s gone. Anna Gunn plays his wife Skyler, and I can honestly say she’s pretty great at her job because every time shes on screen I want to tear my hair out. Let me just say I have not seen all of Breaking Bad because of Skyler. I want to like this show. I love Walt and Jesse and I think they’re great characters and I really want to see Bryan Cranston develop Walt into the super villain I know he becomes, but I honestly don’t know if I can. I’m a few episodes into season two and I absolutely cannot stand Skyler because she wrote the book on being The Bitch. The entire point of her character is to harass Walter and I guess be his domestic foil? Let me point out two things about their relationship that drives me crazy.
First, how she distrusts him right off the bat. It makes sense by the time you get halfway through season two, because honestly Walt has been acting pretty sketchy sneaking into the desert for long stretches of time to, you know, make meth, and there’s also the incident where he faked a psychotic break to explain why a drug dealer kidnapped him and held him in the dessert for two days. I understand her distrust for him then, I get it. But right from the very beginning, when Walt is diagnosed with cancer and doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t trust him! She keeps asking him why he’s been out late when she knows he has a second job at the car wash, even going to the point to go to Jesse’s house and stalk his website when she overhears Walt talking to him. Like, who does that? How did they ever get married in the first place if she’s just always been up his ass like that? Maybe there is some backstory that the show just hasn’t told me yet and I haven’t got to because I can’t fucking stand Skyler, but it just makes no sense. Have her get there naturally over time because Walt is being sketchy as fuck please, don’t just start her off there and expect us to accept it, because no one in a healthy relationship does what Skyler does.
Second, Walt has fucking lung cancer and he has months to live. Months. Cut him some fucking slack, for the love of god. Give him some space. She even forced him into having treatment even though he repeatedly told her he didn’t want to, just out of her own selfishness.
Maybe the writers of Breaking Bad just want her to be emotional in the early seasons because she’s pregnant, but let me just tell you how unacceptable I would find it if they just wanted Skyler to fit into the “emotional pregnant woman” trope. Very, very unacceptable. Pregnant women still have plenty of control over their bodies and what they do. Being pregnant is not a catch all excuse to be an asshole, and it’s offensive to presume that she’s emotional just because she’s pregnant.
It’s so clear that the writers want Skyler to be a “strong” woman but they just don’t know how to do it without making her be shitty to Walt. In an episode in early season two, Walt is trying to make amends for his snafu after being kidnapped and he’s being so nice to Skyler, making her breakfast and talking to her and trying to offer an explanation for how he doesn’t have a second cell phone (even though he does), and she just literally leaves the house while he’s talking. When she gets back, she just says she’s been “out.” It’s clear that she’s trying to do to him what she thinks he did to her after all those times he was out late, and I’m just like who the fuck does this? They’re supposed to be in a relationship but all she does is passive aggressively try to teach him a lesson, and need I remind you that HE FUCKING HAS CANCER, HE”S ALLOWED TO BE A LITTLE EMOTIONALLY DISTANT. Please stop trying to say she’s strong because she treats Walt like a child and also like garbage. He is literally risking his life for her every day to make sure she has money when he’s gone, and all she can do is shit on him and distrust him.
And one more thing. Women can do whatever the fuck they want. Don’t work, do work, I don’t care. Both can be empowering. But maybe when your husband has cancer you miiiiiight wanna think about going back to work so he feels a little less pressure to cook meth for you? Just a thought.
Now we’re going to turn to the absolute worst character on Northern Exposure, Shelly Tambo.
Here she is, in all her smiling 90′s glory.
Northern Exposure was an early 90′s tv show that I for some reason watched growing up and absolutely loved. It was the story of a young NYC doctor fresh out of residency who for some contrived reason is forced to spend four years in a small Alaskan town treating patients to pay back his med school debt. I honestly have no idea why this idea was ever thought up but I’m so glad it was because this show was the shit.
In this small town in Alaska there is one bar owned by the OG Holling Vincoeur, played to perfection by John Cullum.
Who was I to mock Shelly when Holling looks just as 90′s honestly.
As you can tell from the above pics, Holling is canonically old enough to be Shelly’s grandfather. How they ended up together I am honestly not sure because Shelly spends the entirety of the show’s five year run treating Holling like something she found on the bottom of her shoe.
I’ll admit I haven’t seen this show in a while because the last two seasons kind of dissolve into insanity, but I do remember a specific example of Shelly being terrible to Holling for absolutely no reason. In one episdoe she gets addicted to television. She can’t stop watching it. She spends hours ordering things off the television, until Holling asks her where she got the money for it (she literally buys a fucking tiara off an infomercial) and she tells him she fucking spent the money he had saved up for their honeymoon. Need I remind you that Holling is an old dude who owns a bar in small town Alaska? He doesn’t have a lot of money but was putting some aside for Shelly because he loves her crazy ass for some reason. And she spends it all.
Another example is an episode when Holling reveals that he no longer holds Canadian citizenship because he’s lived in the US for so long, and Shelly, who is Canadian, loses every ounce of her shit and runs away back home because she can’t believe he gave up his citizenship. Uh, dude, get over it? Like being sort of sad is one thing but like running away without telling him just because he gave up his Canadian citizenship after living in Alaska for decades anyway? I think at one point he says he’s been there since before state hood so he’s literally been living in America for 40 years, even he tells Shelly there’s no point to him having Canadian citizenship.
to sum up, she is actually why I wrote this post because she’s supposed to be a “strong female character” just because she treats Holling, who literally never does anything but love her and support her through all the weird things she comes up with, like shit. For no reason.
anyway boyos, if any of you have stuck with me for this long, thanks for reading! And remember, it takes more than being a dick to a SO for no reason to make a SFC! If you think of any characters that fit into these two categories let me know!!
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impromptu vigil for the dead scooby mom
hey all! this is late as heck (i’m literally posting it at midnight my time) and i was considering maybe saving it for the Exact Day sophie @strelkatherocketdog sent me the ask that sparked a profoundly wonderful friendship over jenny calendar and a shared love of the evolution of stories and ideas, but it’s close enough to a year that i feel like posting it now. also i really love sophie and i feel like fic would be so nice for her to wake up to in the morning? and this has been finished for the last two weeks???
anyway! sophie! i love you very much, you’ve contributed to my views on jenny and my growth as a writer, you’re playful and funny and i’m very glad i know you. this fic is directly based on that one conversation we had about another way jenny could have died that would have been so much more emotionally satisfying. sort of an angsty-fluffy blend, which seems appropriate, because you’ve helped me really appreciate good angst.
giles/jenny, faith/buffy, some background willow/tara, and faith and jenny’s strong connection that never happened i’m so fucking bitter definitely plays a part in this as well.
also this fic is on ao3!!
The day that Sunnydale became a crater in the middle of southern California, Rupert Giles kissed his wife for the last time. It was a kiss that he’d remember for the rest of his life—the casual familiarity mingled with the quiet panic that this might be the last time they saw each other alive. The strange, contrasting emotions of love and fear had always characterized his relationship with Jenny. He’d always, always been desperately afraid of losing her, even if over the years he’d come to terms with the fact that with the lives they lived, neither of them would really live that long. Not by normal standards.
Giles was thinking about that kiss as he exited the bus and Anya ran up to him, breathless.
“Giles,” she said. Her voice was shaking as she pressed Jenny’s bloodstained leather jacket into his hand. Giles reeled. “Giles, I’m so sorry.”
There was a tear through the fabric, as though the jacket had been slashed through one shoulder. His Jenny had bled out in the hallway of Sunnydale High.
Giles sat down on the edge of the crater. It was a strange, quiet kind of grief to feel, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the poetic nature of the moment. In a single day, the woman he loved and the town he’d found her in had both been destroyed, leaving behind a gaping hole in the face of the earth.
“She always did say she’d go out with a bang,” he quipped when someone sat down next to him, and then he was pretty sure he started crying.
“Giles,” said Buffy, and squeezed his hand. She was crying too, albeit a little more quietly than he was. Anya must have told her.
Giles fixed his eyes on the crater and thought about the Bronze, the way Jenny had looked on the night they’d saved the world for the very first time. Her blue-and-black cardigan catching the light, her eyes sparkling with life and laughter. “She’d be happy,” he said, and sniffled. Quite undignified, really, but then his wife had just died, so he supposed he could make some allowances when it came to his usual restraint. “That we’re all alive. That we’re safe.”
Buffy rested her head against his shoulder. In a small voice, she said, “This is gonna sound stupid, but I always thought you guys would live way past me, you know? We’d leave Sunnydale, and you and Ms. Calendar would move to England and have a lame little apartment with lots of pictures of us, and we’d all fly out to your place for Christmas.” She swallowed hard. “She made really nice popcorn,” she said. “When she didn’t burn it. But I figured you’d be the one cooking Christmas dinner.”
“We’d bought a flat,” said Giles, and scrubbed roughly at his eyes. “We were thinking—after Sunnydale, we were considering moving to Los Angeles. To be close to Faith. Jenny didn’t want Faith to feel that we were too far away.”
“Oh, god,” said Buffy suddenly, eyes widening. “Giles—I don’t know if—anyone’s told Faith yet.”
She sounded reluctant to leave him and tell Faith, but equally reluctant to stay and let Faith figure it out on her own. Giles understood. “I think it should be you,” he said, and smiled a little weakly. “She’ll need comfort from someone, and she loves you very much.”
“She loves you too, Giles,” said Buffy carefully. “And Ms. Calendar loved you both a lot. This might—I know it’s still this huge, big, awful thing that happened, and I know you’re hurting, but I think you should be the one to tell Faith.”
Giles thought about this, and nodded quietly, pulling himself up from his spot next to the crater. It took effort to tear his eyes away from the vast emptiness of it. He kept on wondering if there was anything of Jenny left in the rubble, and he hated thinking like that, so he fixed his gaze on Faith instead as he walked away from all that was left of Sunnydale.
She was standing by the school bus when he came up to her, and from the tenseness in the way she stood, Giles knew she knew.
“Anya told me,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” said Giles.
Faith sniffled. Her eyes were wet. “Anya said Jen saved her life,” she said. “She said that that blade was coming down straight for her and Jen just—darted in front, so fast. Anya couldn’t even stop her.”
Giles felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach. He hadn’t known that.
“She didn’t have a death wish.” Faith was crying. Giles didn’t think he had ever seen Faith cry, and Faith had been living with him and Jenny for nearly four years. “I know Jen. She thought she could do it. She thought she could save Anya and stay safe.” She punched the side of the school bus, leaving a dent. “Stupid!” she shouted at no one in particular. Or maybe at Jenny, who wasn’t there to hear it, and wouldn’t ever be there to hear anything Faith said.
Giles knew his wife. He knew that if she was watching, there would be a worried frown on her face and she’d be reaching out to place a hand on Faith’s shoulder. Faith seemed to know this too, because now she was sobbing too hard to say anything at all.
He thought about what Jenny would want him to do, and then he walked over to Faith, giving her an awkward, uncertain hug. Faith stopped crying immediately, pulling away. She was shaking, now, but Giles could see in her eyes that it was from anger.
“I don’t need your fucking sympathy,” she said.
“She was my wife,” said Giles. It was half reminder and half reprimand. “Don’t assume I don’t understand how much you love her.”
“Loved,” said Faith. “She’s dead. Can’t love a dead person.”
“Did you stop loving Buffy when she died?” Giles asked quietly.
A sudden, hungry eagerness entered Faith’s eyes, and Giles instantly regretted his statement. “We’ll bring her back,” she said. “We’ll bring her back. You know Jen, you know she didn’t want to die, we just—we have to find the body, or, or do the right ritual or some shit like that, and we’ll bring her back—”
Giles looked down, one hand moving to the rose quartz necklace around his neck. “She wouldn’t want that,” he said quietly. “You know that, Faith.”
Faith stared at him. For a moment, Giles saw that angry, bitter teenage girl who had been so willing and eager to hurt in order to forget. But then a quiet, sad resignation came over her. “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”
Buffy hurried up to both of them. Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around Faith, kissing her comfortingly. Giles trained his eyes downward. “Hey,” he heard Buffy say to Faith. “Babe. You wanna go watch Xander throw things into the crater?”
“What’s he throwing?” Faith asked, still sounding a little wobbly and sad.
“Old school bus junk,” said Buffy with a plastic kind of cheeriness. “He’s pretty upset about Ms. Calendar. He’s taking it out on the crater.”
Faith sniffled. “Jen says you shouldn’t waste your resources,” she said vaguely. “Don’t throw junk away, even if it takes up space.”
Giles thought about their untidy bedroom at home, stacks of books piled high on their dresser, and realized with a pang that that was gone too. Jenny’s clothes, her brand new laptop that she’d been so proud of, the yellow floppy disk she’d kept by her bedside table all those years. Small, wonderful things, just like his wife, and all of them were gone.
Buffy was leading Faith back towards the crater, where Giles could see Xander hurling a spare tire down into the depths of what had once been Sunnydale. “Don’t do that,” he called, but the words came out quiet and tired, and no one heard them but him.
He took the rose quartz necklace out from his pocket. He’d kept it there ever since their final reconciliation. Third time’s the charm, Jenny had liked to say with a bright, playful smile. This time, we’ll forgive each other, and it’ll stick.
The necklace caught the sunlight. Giles remembered the way Jenny’s hair had done the same.
Willow was crying uncontrollably on the steps of the school bus. Tara had her arms around her and was murmuring something soothing. Dawn had gone over to Xander and they were sitting together on the edge of the crater, and Faith and Buffy were kissing quietly by the side of the highway.
For the first time in six years, Giles felt alone. It was a familiar feeling, and it felt like he’d slid back into those early days in Sunnydale, where he had his books and his calling and nothing else. This time, though, he had memories of something better, and it twisted the loneliness. Magnified it.
Giles realized that he’d been gripping the rose quartz necklace tightly enough to break the skin. A few drops of blood hit the pavement.
He wondered if she’d died afraid. He wished he’d been there. At the same time, he was glad he hadn’t been, because he knew he would have stayed with her as Sunnydale exploded around them.
Maybe he should have.
“Hey.” Faith tapped him on the shoulder. Her face was still a little blotchy, but her hand was in Buffy’s, and she looked at least a little more comforted by this. “We’re gonna drive ‘till we find a motel. You in?”
Giles nodded vaguely. What else could he do?
He spent the next few hours thinking about what Jenny would say about the crater. Her head would be resting on his shoulder, her hand playing with the lapel of his jacket. Well, England, we really left our mark on Sunnydale, didn’t we, she’d say, and then she’d tilt her head up and close her eyes ever so slightly and they’d kiss. She’d be the one to pull away, resting her forehead against his in that way she did on occasion, and she’d say you know, sometimes I can’t believe we made it this far, and Giles would say neither can I, but I count my blessings, and they’d kiss again and again until someone told them they were being disgusting and it was time to go. And Willow wouldn’t still be crying into Tara’s shoulder in the back of the bus, and Faith wouldn’t be quiet and pensive and fingering the edges of an old photo of her and Jenny (Giles hadn’t known Faith had kept it; it was a snapshot taken at senior prom, Faith beaming at the camera and Jenny giving Faith a proud, loving look), and everyone would be happy right now as they drove to a motel and Jenny and Anya made jokes about post-apocalyptic sex.
A happy ending. After all they’d been through, they couldn’t get that. The destruction of Sunnydale was the end of an era, but it was also the end of Jenny Calendar.
“I hate this,” said Anya to no one in particular. “I hate it. It’s dismal, and sad, and everyone’s sad because Jenny was stupid enough to sacrifice herself for me.”
“Ahn,” said Xander. There was a tiredness to the way he said her name.
“No!” Anya’s eyes were glittering with tears. “She was! She was stupid! If she’d let me die, Faith wouldn’t be sad, and Giles wouldn’t have lost his soulmate—”
“The concept of a soulmate is antiquated nonsense,” said Giles absently.
“Whatever,” said Anya. “I’d be dead, and Jenny would be okay—”
“Don’t,” said Tara. There was a quiet steel to her voice. “Don’t make us make that choice. Not now, Anya.”
Willow was crying too hard to talk. Giles had the distinct feeling that this was why Tara was so angry.
“I’m right,” said Anya with conviction.
“Fuck you,” said Faith, tucking the photo back into her pocket and standing up, heedless of the fact that the bus was still moving. “Fuck you. You know what? Fine. You’re right. I’d sell you over in two seconds if it would get Jen back. But you don’t get to cheapen what she did for you by complaining about the fact that you’re alive.”
“Faith,” said Xander sharply.
“Jen’s dead,” said Faith, her voice almost a shout, “and you’re calling her stupid for caring, when that’s what made her so much better than you—”
“Faith,” said Buffy, very quietly.
Faith bit her lip and sat down, turning her face into Buffy’s shoulder without a word. Tears were streaming down Anya’s face as she looked down at her hands.
Giles thought about other things Jenny might say about the crater. Careful, don’t want to fall into Sunnydale, she’d say, pulling him playfully back from the edge.
At the motel, when Giles woke up in the middle of the night, he found himself stretching to pull Jenny into his arms. His hand hit the headboard.
Faith showed up early in the morning, coming into Giles’s motel room without a word and sitting down on his bed with a bag from a nearby bakery. “Breakfast,” she said. “You know, you should really lock the door.”
Giles rolled over onto his side. “Privacy violation,” he said blearily.
“Jen always said that I was welcome in her home,” said Faith. “And you technically count as part of her home.”
“Fine,” said Giles. “Stay. But I am not eating breakfast at this hour.”
“It’s seven in the morning,” said Faith.
“My wife is dead,” said Giles, and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow.
He heard the sounds of movement, and then the sound of Faith switching the television on and sitting back down on the bed. He could hear her eating her pastry even over the quiet drone of the TV. “Gilmore Girls is on,” she said through a bite of her scone. “Not much else.”
“I’m sleeping,” said Giles.
“You said that when we got back from senior prom,” said Faith, “and Jen said that she could talk to you while you slept, and you said ‘fine’ and then you fell asleep when she was in the middle of talking about that shark movie she saw on cable. You’re fine.”
Giles shifted to look at Faith. She was staring at the television screen, flipping through channels without much interest. “How are you so calm?” he inquired, honestly curious. “You were—”
“Wigging out?” said Faith in a loving imitation of Buffy. She shrugged. “I love Jen,” she said. “A lot. And Buffy and I talked some stuff over last night, and I don’t think I want to stop loving Jen just because she’s not here anymore. I don’t think she’s stopped loving me, which is weird, because she’s dead,” and here a small smile began on her face, “but if anyone would keep caring even when they’re dead, it’s Jen.”
“Not much stops Jenny,” said Giles, and smiled slightly, sitting up in bed. Faith handed him his glasses. “Thank you. Is that one chocolate chip?”
“Remember when we all hit up that scone shop over the summer, and you got all snobby about how chocolate chip scones aren’t real scones?” Faith asked, and handed him the scone. “Jen would be so smug right now.”
Buffy came in when Faith and Giles were halfway done with breakfast, sandwiching herself between them with a kiss for Faith and a hug for Giles. She told them both a funny story about the time she and Jenny had hidden in a broom closet from a sewer demon and played rock-paper-scissors for an hour and a half, and then she started adding her commentary to the game show on TV. Giles half-listened; he was mostly focused on the playful, cheerful cadence of Buffy’s voice. It made him feel a little better—Buffy was alive, and he was incredibly grateful he still had that.
Willow and Tara came in too, followed by Xander and (eventually) a subdued, somber Anya, at which point Faith bit her lip and said, “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” said Anya. She sat down in front of the bed, eyes on the TV. “I shouldn’t have been so angry. I just—I don’t like that it was her.”
Willow, who seemed to have at least stopped crying, sat down next to Anya. “I know,” she said softly. “I don’t like it either.”
“We should have a vigil,” Xander suggested. “Or candles, or—or something.”
“We could have one right now,” said Buffy.
All eyes turned to her. “Now?” Willow repeated a little dubiously.
“Why not?” Buffy was smiling, but it didn’t erase the sadness from her eyes. “We can’t really have a real funeral when we don’t have a body or the cause of death or something, and there’s no reason to wait to remember Ms. Calendar.”
“We’re in a motel room!” Willow objected.
But Giles remembered the night Jenny had turned to him in the middle of the living room, wearing sweats and a Sunnydale High t-shirt, and said hey, honey, let’s get married, and he’d stammered that was she sure, because this really wasn’t the proper way to propose, nor the right setting. She’d smiled, dark eyes soft with affection, and kissed him, and said—
“This isn’t something we need the right setting for,” Giles said softly. “It’s out of love.”
There was a silence in the room. Giles hadn’t realized anyone would hear him.
“Yeah,” said Faith, and gave him a small, almost playful smile. “Giles is right.” She got up off the bed, heading over to the front of the room and picking up the TV remote, holding it up like a microphone. “Hey,” she said. “My name’s Faith Lehane, first speaker at the Impromptu Vigil for the Dead Scooby Mom. Moms are generally really shitty, but Jen was a good one, and—” She bit her lip, looking down. “There are a lot of things,” she said finally, “that I never needed to tell her. She always just knew. I hope that holds true to some of the stuff I wish I could say to her right now. Love you, Jen.”
Giles felt himself smiling. Faith caught this and lightly tossed the remote to him. He blinked, then fumbled for words. “I—I—” He breathed out, thinking of calming things. The way Jenny smiled in the morning when he kissed her awake. The way they’d kissed that last time he saw her alive, reassuring and anxious in the same moment. “I stammered,” he said, “when I was first falling in love with Jenny, and over the course of seven years, she became the reason I could put aside my nervousness every morning. She was giving, and loving, and one of the strongest people I have ever met.”
He smiled. He missed her—of course he would—but he was also so fiercely proud. She’d died a hero. She’d died loved, and she’d died for someone she cared about. He knew that wherever she was, she would be at peace, and that was enough to at least dull the ache of missing. “No eulogy from me is good enough,” he said, eyes bright and wet. “But I’m sure she’ll forgive me.”
#fic#co captain sophie#a year#calendiles#committed to job meets commitment issues#dead jenny tag#jenny and faith#fuffy#i think that covers it mostly
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The Bachelor Australia 2017 Recap - Episode 1
The Bachelor Australia 2017 Recap S2 E1
I debated whether or not to review this season of The Bachelor. I recapped Georgia Love’s season of The Bachelorette, and I’m pretty sure my boyfriend was the only one who read those reviews, but here we go again.
Full disclosure: Those who read my Bachelorette Season 2 reviews will know that I wasn’t the hugest fan of Matty J. Nothing against him, he just wasn’t my number one pick for Georgia. However, I am super excited to see him (hopefully) find someone as gregarious and upbeat as him. However, if those pesky producers pull another bait and switch on us, I think that’ll be the last straw. (Let’s be honest, just until the ads roll around for the following year). On with the show!
Oh, Osher. How I have missed your liquid caramel voice! And that music! Oh, god I love this show.
I don’t think I can ever watch that clip of Georgia telling Matty J he wasn’t the one and he puts his hands on his knees without feeling a little pang in my heart. And a pang in my soul for being so STUPID TO HAVE NOT REALISED THE BAIT AND SWITCH.
Cue shirtless-on-the-beach-looking-into-the-distance clip! And exciting, heart warming, vomit inducing montage of the season. What? That wasn’t what it was supposed to do?
Now, breaking news, Matty J was on The Project before tonight’s episode informing everyone he has officially dropped the J. Just…Matty. Previous readers might think I was elated with this news, given how much I hated the nickname when he was first introduced. But if I’m honest, Matty just sounds kind of… empty (insert joke here about empty heart and looking for love).
I swear the editors have a little checklist beside their computer of how to open every season of The Bachelor:
- Running on the beach shirtless? Check!
- De-saturated montage of heartbreak? Check!
- But now I’m totally over it and it’s totally fine speech? Check!
OH THAT’S RIGHT. HIS TERRIFYING SISTER. AND THE NEPHEW. THE WEIRD RELATIONSHIP WITH THE NEPHEW.
He’s “cooking” with his mum in the kitchen. By “cooking”, I mean refusing to cut the avocado due to some genetic rash-inducing phobia.
Then, Matty’s mum expresses her generic trepidation that he might get his heart broken again, before saying about last season’s let-down: “It was really hard for me.” Yeah well guess what, Mum? It was PROBABLY REALLY FUCKING HARD FOR MATTY J TOO.
- Slow-mo dressing at dusk? Check!
- City pan? Check!
- Close-up limo shots? Check!
I swear, if you showed me the opening to all of the seasons, you could correlate them scene. by. scene. Which is fine. But… does anyone maybe want to do something different? Throw a different shot in? What if there was just an elephant shooting water from its trunk just shoved in the middle to see if people catch it? That’s what I would do. But hey, I guess if you’ve got a format that’s working, then why change it?
Matty and Osher meet up in front of the mansion. There’s some snooze-inducing filler-talk about love at first conversation. Yawn. A slow burn. Yawn. Even Osher’s trying to jazz it up with his leading questions but tbh, I’m only watching for the arrivals section.
Like I did last year, I’ll break down the arrivals for each lovely lady:
Alix is the first girl. Her description says, “body painter” so we all know not to take her seriously. She’s wearing an orange dress with lots of cut-outs. I think there might be more cut-outs than actual fabric. Sorry, she says the dress is red. So we know she’s a tiiiiiiiny bit colour-blind, but that’s cool. Alix has conveniently placed body paint on her arm to talk about her work and Matty pretends to be interested. As she walks away, Matty says, “She is… pretty.” And I have laughed my first belly laugh of the season. Nup. Not the one.
Tara is next. She’s a nanny. She loves kids. (And if you remember from the montage shoved down our throat 5 minutes earlier, MATTY J ALSO LOVES KIDS. SPECIFICALLY HIS NEPHEW). Tara says, “Both of my sisters are married with children, so I’m the last one.” Ah yes, the perils of being a spinster. (Side note: I think in her talking head we hear someone question “Five hours”. Correct me if I’m wrong, but is this the first time we’ve heard someone speak behind the camera? WHO ARE YOU, MYSTERY VOICE? TELL ME WHAT GOES ON BEHIND THE SCENES! I think it’s pretty telling that I’m more interested in this than Tara). The convo’s a bit awkward if we’re honest. Matty even throws in, “Yeah. It’s a nice house.” Oh, she has tats. And she conveniently forgets which ear she has a smiley face tattooed behind. Never thought I’d be writing that sentence in my life. She’s immediately injected into Cool Girl status, by “accidentally” saying “mate” and “ay” at the end of sentences. Look, she’s one of the boizzzzzzz. She’s got a great dress, but she’s not the one.
Laura is a jewellery designer. She’s wearing a pants suit and seems much too sensible to be on this show. She makes a joke about bringing a cob loaf, which totally would have shot her straight to top three at least. The way to a man’s heart, and all that. There’s a bit of light flirtation about Matty wearing one of her rings. He says it’s appealing that she is hardworking *cough lives in Sydney cough* and is passionate about what she does *cough lives in Sydney cough*. She seems nice enough, but still not the one.
Now, Cobie! I’ve seen Cobie on the ads, and from that ten second clip I’m confident I know everything about her. But seriously, she seems quirky and funny and just like Matty J. (Remember the quiz game he made for Georgia? Cobie would totally do that kind of thing for him). She comes in with a bunch of balloons and sucks the helium and introduces herself. I thought it was sweet and cute, but they’re playing clown music underneath, which would suggest she’s not the one. Cobie reveals that she works in mining as a coal plant operator. She should have brought a piece of coal into the mansion for him! (For those reading overseas, this is a cutting-edge joke about an event that occurred recently with our politicians. It’s very funny and witty. Trust me).
And now we begin the montage, starting with Simone, who is very… white. From the hair to the teeth to the dress. Then we have Elise, Monica, Laura-Ann, Elizabeth, Steph, Sharlene, Stacey, and Sian. And as we all know, montage girls don’t get picked.
Our lovely montage (yawn) ends on Jennifer, who wants to be “dipped”. Jennifer, a question: Is a manufactured “dip” a “real dip”? I mean, it’s not French Onion, is it? (Ha! See, you’ve all missed me).
Cue clown music again, this time for Natalie, who is a midwife (REMEMBER MATTY J LOVES CHILDREN. ESPECIALLY HIS NEPHEW). She’s just wearing glitter body paint. Kidding, but hey, it could be. It’s just a very skin-coloured dress. Natalie admits to stalking Matty on Instagram, and says the word “moist”. Lololol let’s all get on board the internet bandwagon where we all think “moist” is a gross word and oh look how relevant she’s being, and dorky, and sweet. Sigh. And then, just when I think all hope is lost for Natalie, she reveals she has dated “a woman”. She’s BI! IS THIS THE FIRST NON-HETERO BACHELOR CONTESTANT?! THIS IS INCREDIBLE. But then she says she hopes Matty can, “Turn me straight again.” Um, I’m not 100% sure it works like that, Nat. And I’m also not sure if this comment is going to help the disgusting political opinion that you can just change your sexuality on a whim. I wish I thought better of the producers than to include this, but I don’t. And then, in case things couldn’t get any worse, SHE SNIFFS HER FINGERS AFTER MEETING MATTY J. SHE SAYS THEY SMELL LIKE HIM. WHAT RATING IS THIS SHOW FOR CHRIST’S SAKE?! (Also, question: Are we sure this isn’t just Georgia Love in a wig?).
Now for the contrived moment we saw in twenty thousand ads, a police car comes in. From the ads I assumed she was just being driven in and I completely rolled me eyes, but this… this I can get on board with! SHE’S DRIVING HERSELF! IN A COP CAR! There’s a brief, unnecessary ad break before Constable Packston introduces herself. She entered with a handshake and in a cop car and THIS. WOMAN. MEANS. BUSINESS. Her first name is Michelle, and Matty accidentally (?) admits he’s been in the back of a police car, because… he peed in a bush when he was 18. Could this show be any more PG13 if it tried? Michelle seems much too sensible for this show, but they have good banter. Until Matty asks her to “mock arrest” him, in some sort of sex foreplay ritual. Matty says, “You’re quite strong for a…” (Don’t say woman, don’t say woman, don’t say woman…) “…Someone with a petite frame.” Nice work Matty! She seems great. I would say that the gag might prevent you from winning, but Lee came in with a frickin donkey, so all bets are off.
Belinda arrives already in a wedding dress, just in case Matty decides to call it all off on the first night. Her description says “Love Coach”, and I’m out. Belinda puts her hand over Matty’s heart while he does the same to her in some kind of trust exercise which also seems like a foreplay ritual. She’s also got an egg timer. Urgh, this is so awkward. Let’s just move right on.
To…Florence. She’s from Holland. She is also wearing orange… red. WHY ARE THESE COLOURS SO SIMILAR?! She’s brought something from Holland. It’s… clogs! For... traditional reasons! Right. Yes, Matty J will keep those and treasure them forever.
Next there are feet. Bare feet but she’s walking on her tippy toes, which doesn’t make sense. Oh, wait. She’s ribbon dancing. Jesus. Well, props to amping up the parade aspects of the introductions. And then, this woman, whose name is apparently Akoulina, actually says, “I wrap myself up and I present myself as a present to you. Will you accept me?” This is my face right now: :| You can guess what my answer would have been to her question.
But all of this nonsense leads us seamlessly into… Lisa. Who has romantic music, and is in a JUMPSUIT. And she looks FIERCE! Even Matty J comments on it. She’s very tall, and apparently that’s her defining feature. (Question: Why do we still use feet for our heights in Australia? We use the metric system for everything else). Matty is smitten. Lisa also reveals that she played competitive tennis for twelve years, which is cool. No joke there, that just really is cool. She seems nice, and he seems to like her. Matty’s talking head says, “She took my breath away.” Calm down, Matty! I thought you were open to a slow burn?!
Oh, no. Poor Leah has made a mistake and worn her lingerie tonight. Nice move, producers. I’m guessing the villain due to the over-sexualisation and the black dress? She’s now messing up his hair. (Side note: Is Mrs Osher still the hair stylist on this show? I would be so pissed if I was her. How dare Leah ruin that perfect quiff!). She also makes him spin twice, which should be an effort in reversing the sexism on this show, but actually comes across kind of creepy and awkward. She literally tells him she wants him to f her right there. Well, she may as well have.
Alright, first shot in the house! Leah makes an entrance. Oh boy does she make an entrance. Cobie stops her and introduces herself. Nice, Cobie.
Apparently Leah is ignoring everyone. (Did she?) Oh yep, apparently she did. All I see is her greeting everyone. Right. Villain. Tara does a little bit of slut-shaming here but I’m guessing we’re all ok with it because Leah is our villain lololol. Someone (honestly, I have no idea who anyone is. It’s the first night) says Leah is wearing her dress, but in black. OH YEAH. THEY’RE IN THE SAME DRESS. Do you think this was a last-minute re-write when costuming figured it out? *Loud whisper* PSSST, JUST MAKE IT INTO A PLOT POINT. THEY’LL NEVER KNOW THE DIFFERENCE.
Then we have some contrived dramahhhh with the girls. Something happens but it’s boring and then OSHER WALKS IN! OSHERRRRRR! Save me from this boredom! He introduces them to the rose system, just in case any of them are aliens and have no idea how this show works. Matty gives them all a pep talk, because he totes knows how they’re feeling. (REMEMBER, HE’S BEEN ON THE SHOW BEFORE).
Osher interrupts Matty because he totally forgot to mention this really important thing before. Silly Osher! This year, they have the Secret Garden, which in this context (as far as I know) isn’t a euphemism or a piece of classic literature, but a literal secret garden where they can have uninterrupted one-on-one time. What? No white rose? What a let-down…
The first girl Matty wants to speak to is Laura, the jewellery designer. The girls make a comment that she’s similar to Georgia. Really? I didn’t pick it. I mean, if we’re going to do a parallel, make it with Natalie. I swear it’s just Georgia in a wig!
Then, the power cuts out. This is apparently intentional and not due to the fact that EVERY DAMN LIGHT IN THE MANSION IS TURNED ON. DID EARTH HOUR TEACH YOU NOTHING, PEOPLE?!
And… there’s a fire dancer, because at this point, of course there is. There’s a brief ad break as the girls predictably freak out and keep asking if it’s an intruder. GUYS. IT CAN’T BE AN INTRUDER ON THE FIRST NIGHT. BY THAT LOGIC, YOU’RE ALL INTRUDERS!
Akoulina says the new girl was “Walking up to Matty and saying, ‘Look at me! Look at me!’”. Says the girl who literally did a ribbon dance.
So this exotic fire twirler’s name is Elora. She’s from Tahiti. So… she’s the reason we’re exempt from the white-washing complaint this year? Side note: I don’t really understand why the girls hold her coming in later as her fault. She doesn’t construct this show.
Elora actually seems nice, and Matty J says he feels a spark. THE SLOW BURN, MATTY. REMEMBER THE SLOW BURN. Leah (our lingerie-clad villain) makes a comment about Elora coming in half dressed, and the editors and producers don’t let me down and cut to a clip of Leah in her lingerie-dress. THIS IS THE SASS I’M HERE FOR.
Elora is described as “Sex on Legs” as she walks to steal Matty J from talking to…someone. Again, I have no idea who anyone is yet.
Akoulina, not one to be beaten with theatrics, does a ribbon twirl routine for the ladies to show how much better she is than Elora. Maybe she’s trying to seduce the girls? I’m at a loss to find any other reason for her behaviour.
Matty J, speaking alone with Elora, is interrupted by Meanie McMean Pants. Matty, God bless his soul, calmly offers for her to take a seat alongside them, but unfortunately Meanie gets away with it. Man, I want to see what’s been cut out of this section. McMean Pants says, “You’re going to see plenty of crazy”, referring to the other girls in the house. Matty, not skipping a beat, asks, “Is much of it coming from yourself?” My second belly laugh ensues.
Because you’re definitely wondering, here’s what I would do if I was the Bachelor: I’d write out a list of names of all the people, and divide up the time of the cocktail party with the number of people. I would then allocate a time to each individual and provide everyone with a watch. I would tell the people that I will come to them to collect them for their allotted 15 minute chat. Obviously I get why this isn’t the way they do it, and that they need the dramahhh, but honestly, how hard is a bit of organisation people?!
Anyway, in a weird montage that the intern definitely got to work on that week, we see that all the girls love Natalie the finger-sniffer. Then she does something with her leg, and for some reason this is a revelation. Quickly becoming our Villain Number Two, Jennifer asks, “What kind of woman does that? It’s grubby and dirty. I don’t act like that, because I’m a ladyyyyyyyyyy.” And I didn’t even have to exaggerate that last word, how handy. Leah, our villain number one, questions if anyone would even date Natalie. Well, it doesn’t look like you have a lot of offers either, mate. You’re on a DATING SHOW for Christ’s sake. Gosh women can be horrible to each other.
So I looked away for a second and apparently someone said someone else’s dress was awful and this is apparently a cause for tears and dramahhh. Sorry, “putrid”. Of course, Villain Number Two, Jennifer, is involved. The blonde lady, who I’m pretty sure is named Elizabeth, explains that they was mud on Jennifer’s dress and that’s why she said it was putrid. All credit to her, Natalie does a great impression of the fight, using blah blah blahs.
Jennifer says that she doesn’t want drama because she’s not a “drama-filled person”. THIRD BELLY LAUGH. This fight couldn’t be more boring if they tried. And they are trying, very hard. A fight over a dress? Righto. We must be scraping the bottom of the barrel for this season. Jennifer ironically says Elizabeth is this year’s Keira. HOW DARE YOU STAND WHERE SHE STOOD, PEASANT! And this solidifies Jen as Villain Number 2.
Leah (Villain Number 1. Phew, this is so exhausting) says she wants to show Matty her secret garden. AGAIN, WHAT RATING IS THIS SHOW?!
But then Matty comes from nowhere and invites Lisa to The Secret Garden. I know I’ve already said it, but she is ROCKING that jumpsuit. He says that she stood out on the red carpet, and he’s totally lost in her eyes. To be honest, Lisa seems a bit too cool for this. Matty says he can imagine her in her track pants on the couch chilling out, and I totally agree. Right, we have a front-runner.
Next, Jen has some one on one time with Matty. Michelle (our badass Police Officer) says she and Jen are different people, and I’m definitely on Michelle’s side. Don’t try to mess with a cop. She’ll win every time.
MATTY HAS GRABBED THE FIRST ROSE. I REPEAT: THE ROSE HAS BEEN GOTTENED. AND HE GIVES IT TO MICHELLE! MICHELLE WAS JUST SAYING SHE HASN’T SPOKEN TO HIM YET. OMG MICHELLE! YAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSS! So happy for her. She seems great. Another front-runner.
They’re all freaking out about the rose ceremony, as if they didn’t expect one to happen. There’s lots of scripted bitchiness from our Villain Number 1, Leah. I swear, they’re not even trying to make it sound like natural dialogue anymore. She says there’s lots of filler, and I actually agree with her. Yes, Leah. THERE IS A LOT OF FILLER. (Imagine this previous line said slowly while staring directly with wide eyes at Leah).
Oh, wow. We return from the ad break straight to the rose ceremony. Has anyone ever noticed that there is never a conclusion to the cocktail party? I assume it’s just because they film for hours and ply them with alcohol to get content and then just figure out how they’ll edit it later, but still. They could at least try to bring the storylines to some kind of conclusion before just cutting away.
Osher introduces… Matty. See, it still feels empty. Two are going home tonight, so I’m guessing two montage girls? Let’s place bets. Hmmm let’s go with Monica and Akoulina.
Dammit Akoulina got picked. Jennifer gets picked which makes sense because she’s still in disguise with Matty as Classy Dipping Girl.
The final three are Elizabeth, Monica, and Stacey. No, I don’t know who these people are either.
Elizabeth hopes that what happened with Jen didn’t cloud Matty’s judgement of her. Um, babe, I don’t think he was even there, was he? I don’t think he gives a shit.
But Elizabeth gets picked and crisis is averted. Monica and Stacey are going home. Monica’s goodbye is quite sad. She says there are some big personalities in the house, which she can’t compete with. I actually feel kind of bad for her. But unfortunately, you can’t stand out on this show without a big personality.
Next Episode: Are they swimming naked? And… Cheerleading. Just in case the casual misogyny was too subtle.
First Episode Picks: Lisa and Michelle.
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