#and lucy with the gun that is half her size

[captain039]

Wasteland heat (Redone) PT 4

Cooper Howard(The Ghoul) x reader 

Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, AOB dynamics, heat, oral F receiving, smut, swearing, fallout stuff, implied cousin incest, virgin reader, drug usage, needles, plus size reader, sexual assault

Previous part <-

It feels like days of walking, what you tried to share in your pack with Lucy is now gone, water scarce, and food also scarce. Lucy's missing a boot and you're missing your bed. You feel so tired, your body like jelly, your legs numb and painful at the same time, like pins and needles hitting every inch of your skin. You've hit what looks like an old town maybe, you're not sure which one but as the alpha stops and your pip boy fuzzes at the small water gathering in an old broken metal thing you falter, smacking your lips together softly. You haven't told Lucy that you've been avoiding your meds, you couldn't chew them, couldn't swallow them without water, and you would always gag and cough them out. 

"Hm," The man says filling his canteen and drinking from it with a loud sigh, you glance to Lucy seeing her staring at him intently, or maybe the water he's drinking. She falls to her knees and you go to stop her but she cups her hands and drinks from the radiation-filled water with coughs and gags. 

"Now you're getting it" The alpha hums and you make a small noise in your throat. You can't reach your backpack with your hands tied, can't reach the medication you need to stop you from having a heat. You wonder if it will still work with this type of water. You don't have much time to think because the alpha starts coughing and wheezing and before you know it Lucy has grabbed you and ran. 

You don't find her sudden adrenaline burst the same as you run around the cars and to a dead end. You see the giant hole in the ground and the city beyond, it makes you stop and stare before Lucy's got rope around her waist and is tugged back. You turn to the man holding a lasso and tugging her closer, you charge at him with little force, but you manage to tumble to the ground. You can't do much with bound hands and the sudden position makes you so much warmer. He snarls at you as you struggle with fighting his free hand, his other under your knee. You manage to someone hug his hand to your chest and hold it there, hoping Lucy will hurry up and get free and grab his gun. The other wishes she didn't, the other wishes he'd reverse the roles and had you pinned down and tied up. Your mind's in a haze and your grip loosens significantly and he gets his hand free and quickly aims his gun and your sister. You feel like you're struggling to breathe, feeling like the sun got a meter closer and someone poured a bucket of sweat over you. Lucy yells your name but it sounds distant, like she isn't actually right there only a few meters away. Your whole body feels like it cramps up as you're thrown off left on the dirt. You whimper and curl your knees to your chest as you hear scurrying uneven steps and Lucy is at your side. 

"I couldn't take the meds" You feel like there's sand pouring from your eyes as you see her shocked face. 

"It's ok, It's ok, we can figure this out" She whispers gently lifting your top half to lean against her. 

"Fuck sake, get her up and Vaultie and move!" The end of his words break off into an inhuman snarl and coughs rack his body again. 

"Come on, there might be help inside" Lucy whispers. 

It's a struggle to get you on your feet, an even more struggle to get you to whatever place the alpha was going to. He hits the terminal a buzzing sound coming from it before he speaks. 

"Transaction" He says. 

"How can I help?" A male voice answers, a little too happy for the wastelands. 

"Sixty vials in exchange for two females mint condition" The alpha replies. 

"Physical condition must be examined in person, send them in!" Answers the voice. You're too out of it to know what's really going on, you desperately miss your bed even if it was a hospital one, and you need pillows, blankets anything. You whine and Lucy mutters something to you before you move inside. Once in, it feels cooler, and fresher even, on your body before Lucy gasps and jolts. 

"What the fudge"

"Fudge? There's no fudge here, just your friendly robot Snip-Snip mark 4" You frown looking at the robot in front of you.

"And you appear to be women, come through" The robot doesn't give you a chance to speak as you're led through the building and into a room.

"Have a seat on that gurney there" The robot points and Lucy helps you onto the gurney.

"Now it appears you are distressed somehow, how can I help?" he asks. 

"My sister, she's in heat, she hasn't been able to take her medication, do you have any repellents?" Lucy speaks for you as you sag against her. You want to move though, want to be back outside with the alpha, you want to take his shirt off and feel his skin against yours.

"I say what a predicament, let's see here" He turns and fumbles through drawers. 

"I was worried this was a sex slave place" Lucy chuckles lightly and the robot snaps around. 

"What a disgusting thought! No!, I'm simply going to harvest your organs" His words make you both freeze before something is injected into your stomach. 

You awake groggily and to someone shaking you, you open your eyes slowly and focus on Lucy. 

"Thank goodness, you just stay here ok, I'm going to deal with this and I'll be back ok?" She smiles softly and you frown going to speak but she rushes off making you groan. You glance around the room, an old storage room by the looks of it, now with surgical supplies instead. Your memory buzzes back to what happened with the robot and you sit up slowly. You look at the other gurney next to you and sigh a bit. Your body still feels hot and heavy and a nagging keeps scratching your brain as you slowly stand up. You ignore the shots outside, ignore everything, you snatch the two foam tops from the gurneys and lay them in the cleanest corner, you find some old sheets for the gurneys in one of the cupboards and lay them down, folding one as a makeshift pillow. You don't know where your backpack is so you can't use that blanket either. With what you have, which is very little you manage to make a bed well in this case a nest as the teacher called it. She was very brief in explaining what happened if you ever had a heat, there were always medical supplies to avoid all this. You sit on the foam before falling onto your side and sighing, you struggle with your jumpsuit, pushing it off so you only have your white singlet on. The door opens and you jolt sitting up, but relaxing as you see Lucy, she has a grim look on her face, blood on her face and chest, gun in her hand. 

"We need to go," She says simply, too simply too emotionless. 

"Lucy?" You question and her face falters and breaks as she forces a smile. 

"We can find Dad, we can go home soon" She coos and you're not sure if she's telling you or herself. 

"Lucy I can't" You mumble and she freezes.

"I'm going into heat I will slow you down and attract unwanted attention, we can connect our pip boy trackers-" You gulp a bit trying to control the emotions that bubble up. 

"I just need some food, water maybe, maybe if I take my meds now it won't be so bad" The truth is you don't want to go on, you're tired and need a break, and your body won't move from this spot you've claimed.

"Ok, I'll get you supplies" She whispers tears in her eyes as she walks out the door. 

She gathers supplies, she gets you food and water, alcohol too, she fills up a bag for herself also before sitting with you for a little bit before she says goodbye and she's gone, you watch her move on your pip boy before you lay back with a sigh. You barricade the door on shaky legs and make sure there is no other way anyone can get in. It's a stupid idea really, staying here and waiting out your heat, who knows if you'll even join up with her again? 

You're in and out of sleep, the heat becomes worse, your body sweats, slick coats between your thighs and your breathing is heavy. Caught between fevered dreams and reality till you hear footsteps. You tense up, hoping they can't get it, you made a pretty firm blockade.

"Omega?" You shudder and sag at the sound of the alpha you were travelling with, well forced to travel with. He'd been cruel though, more than once and you feel tears in your eyes like sand again. 

"Your sister left you?" He asks and he sounds pissed and you scoff quietly. 

"I made her leave" You call out trying not to sound like you're crying or showing any emotion. You haven't spoken much with the stranger, hell you don't know if he even has a name besides what the knight called him 'ghoul'. 

"I'll slow her down, she can find Dad and come back and we'll go home" A small sob leaves your lips, for some reason it isn't the truth. You hear him hum outside the door before he shuffles a bit before he lets out a big sigh. "I'd invite you to the party" He takes a sharp a breath before sighing. 

"Don't think that's your forte though darlin" he finishes and you're frowning, what party? There's no cake, no people out there as far as you know. 

"Don't overthink it" He chuckles and you feel yourself grow warmer that he knew you were. It's quiet for some time and you feel yourself drifting in and out of sleep, you've thrown your vault suit on the other side of the room and ate whatever dried fruit Lucy had found. 

"You awake in there omega?" You hear quietly. 

"It's dark out now, best be getting some sleep" He mutters, almost too soft for you to hear. 

"Why're you being nice?" You ask before you can think and you hear him chuckle. He doesn't answer though and it makes you frown harder before you give up on anticipation and fall asleep once more.

Next part ->

[teleiapotami]

Before She Was His

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Ship: Gray/Lucy

Tags: Secret Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Eventual Smut, Prequel, Canon Timeline

Summary:

-By Request- A prequel to She Was Always Yours. An exploration of how Gray and Lucy might have become more than friends.

Gray finds himself fascinated by the guild's newest member, Lucy. Placed on a team together, their friendship grows as they get to know each other.

*This story eventaully contains non-canon pairings. I have received some feedback that the relationship dynamic ends up feeling toxic in the original fic. If you don't like that kind of thing, feel free to move on.*

It had started out as nothing more than a typical attraction to a beautiful blonde. Gray had always been partial to blondes. When he met Lucy, he thought her eager, beautiful, and smart, despite her being attached to the fiery dumbass. He didn’t think much more of her, beyond being a new guildmate, and someone to tease Natsu about. It soon became obvious, however, that the slayer was entirely ignorant of the new girl’s charms. Gray wasn’t one to jump the gun whenever he thought a girl was pretty though. He may not be able to keep his clothes on, but he did know how to keep it in his pants.

It wasn’t until they were on their way to Onibas, heading to deal with Eisenwold that Gray really had any significant interactions with her. She asked about Erza’s magic, and the woman had deflected it to him.

“Gray’s magic is much prettier than mine.” Erza smiled as she spoke, her armored hand resting on top of Natsu’s unconscious head. The beautiful girl, Lucy, he reminded himself, turned and smiled at him expectantly.

“What, you mean like this?” A few options of things to make for her flashed through his mind. A flower? Too obvious. A miniature of her? Too creepy. Then he remembered something she’d said about being a Fairy Tail fan before she got to join, and he smiled to himself. He pressed his right fist against his open left hand and then offered her his fist. Opening it, he revealed a palm-sized Fairy Tail Emblem, formed out of near-flawless ice.

She plucked it delicately from his palm and rewarded him with a wide smile. “Wow! This is incredible!” Lucy held it up to the sunlight beaming through the window. The light refracted and danced in cool shades of blues and purples. She found it mesmerizing and spent the rest of the train ride spinning the trinket between her fingers until it melted.

Later, when Erza sent him off with Natsu to find Erigor, Gray took a moment to ask Natsu about her. He didn’t have much to say, which Gray didn’t find surprising. “I dunno man, she was hangin’ out in Hargeon. She bought me and Happy some food, and then she happened to be on the same ship as that fake Salamander when I busted in. She said she wanted to join Fairy Tail, so I brought her with me. I don’t know much more about her beyond that.

“She’s pretty cute, huh?” Gray said thoughtfully. He should have known better than to bring it up with Natsu. Gray was pretty sure a girl could full-on kiss the flame-brain and he still wouldn’t notice her.

“I guess? She’s nice, weird, and a decent wizard. What does it matter if she’s cute?” Natsu’s tone made it clear that he wasn’t interested in continuing this line of the conversation, so Gray let it drop. He focused on the task at hand and pushed his growing interest in the girl aside.

Natsu and Erza had agreed to a contest once they returned from Clover. The whole guild had begun to congregate in the street leading up to the guild. The fighters were in the center sizing each other up and stretching. Gray scanned the crowd, searching for their other teammate. “Happy, have you seen Lucy yet?” The cat replied that he hadn’t before flying over to Cana to place a bet. Gray pressed through the crowd heading for Lucy’s. I bet she forgot. I better go remind her. There was still a half hour before the fight was scheduled to actually start, so he had plenty of time.

When he arrived and let himself into the apartment, it sounded like Lucy was in the bathroom, so he made himself comfortable on the couch. Natsu was right. The apartment was a nice space for the rent Lucy paid. Gray looked over his shoulder as the bathroom curtain opened. Lucy stepped out in a cropped white tee and pink capris. She didn’t notice him sitting there and walked right by him to her bed. Grinning to himself, he said. “Man, seventy thousand is a steal for a place like this!”

Lucy whirled around, startled at the sudden voice. Her eyes raked over the man relaxing on her couch. He was mostly naked, as he often was, wearing just a pair of long shorts. She wasn’t expecting it to be Gray, and it made her double-take with a blush. Gray grinned at her. “Did you forget?”

Flustered, Lucy glared at him. “Did I forget about what? What are you doing here Gray, and where are your damned clothes? Don’t strip in someone else’s apartment!”

“Hey, calm down Lucy! I figured you had forgotten about Natsu and Erza’s fight, so I came to get you. And I was naked when I got here.”

“Like that makes it any better…Well, let’s go then. You came to get me and here I am.” She slipped on some shoes and opened the door to shoo him out of it. They walked together back to the scene of the fight and pushed their way to the front to watch. Lucy wasn’t the type to enjoy fighting just for fighting’s sake. She seemed anxious watching her friends square off. When she brought her hand to her mouth and began to bite at the nail Gray hooked a finger into the palm of her hand. pulled it away and laced his fingers between hers.

“Hey, don’t worry, they’ll be fine. You can hold my hand if it makes you feel better.” Lucy didn’t say anything, but her fingers wrapped around his lightly and she wore a lovely, light blush from then on. After Erza had been arrested and they all sat in the guild hall waiting to hear what was going on, Lucy sat next to him. He was the only member of their team present, so he refused to let himself think anything of it. Still, her presence made him smile.

Weeks passed with little changing between them, although Lucy did tend to have breakfast with him since they both got to the guild earlier than Natsu did. It was just breakfast between friends, but it was still nice. He learned that she was not just eager, but ambitious. She wanted to grow her strength and abilities. She was more than smart; she was downright brilliant. He discovered that there was a warmth within her that she shared without hesitation. Her heart was open and kind, and she had a free spirit to match that of the fairy stamped on the back of her hand.

And one day, he learned that her ambition could lead her to be just as dumb as Natsu. The pair had taken an S-Class quest, against the rules. He thought Lucy might have been forced into it by the flame brain until the reward was revealed to include a golden key. Lucy would walk through dragon fire to get a new zodiac key. Before the end of their illegal adventure, Lucy had learned about his dark past and seen him at his worst. Finding Deliora on the island unearthed some long-buried pain, and Gray knew he didn’t handle it all that well.

When all was said and done, the Fairy Tail team loaded onto Erza’s pirate ship. Gray was taken to one of the cabins where he would be able to rest. His wound from Lyon was healing, but he had developed a bit of a fever and was banished to the bed to rest until they arrived in Magnolia. He woke to the sound of the door creaking open. His head ached and his mouth was dry. Soft, cool fingers brushed his hair off his forehead gently and a damp rag was placed against him. The chair beside his bed creaked as someone sat down.

He let out a low groan as a cool washcloth was placed across his forehead. He tried to force his eyes open, but they felt too heavy. The blankets over his chest were gently pulled down and he felt those fingers pull his bandage away from his wound. He finally managed to crack open his eyes slightly. A head of golden hair was bent over him. “Lu…cy?” his voice croaked.

Her head whipped around to look at him. “Hey there. Your fever still hasn’t broken, but your wound looks a lot better now.” She patted his shoulder gently, then returned to his wound. She cleaned the area around it where the bandage had left a mark, then began to spread a salve over parts that were still open.

“You shouldn’t do that….Erza or I could—”

“I want to. Erza is busy navigating us around in circles, and Natsu is on a boat. I volunteered to take care of you. Besides that, you can barely even talk. So just relax and let me take care of you.” She replaced the bandages with new ones and crossed the room to clean her hands in a bucket. She returned to sit by his side and lifted a cup to his lips.

His dark eyes locked onto hers and he lifted his head slightly to accept the drink. “I could do this myself,” he grumbled as she refilled the cup. She reached over and flicked his nose gently, making him grunt in annoyance.

“Gray, you are severely underestimating how dangerous it is to have an open wound. Your ice may have kept you from bleeding out, but it also kept it from being cleaned for an extended amount of time.  Plus, we have no idea if your fever is from the wound or just exhaustion from the fighting. I’m not taking any chances with your health. Now, if you have had enough to drink, do you feel like eating anything? The food’s not much on the ship, but I could get you some bread at least.”

He shook his head slightly and relaxed again. “No…just, will you stay?” She smiled sweetly at him. “Of course, I will stay with you.” She slid her small hand into his and scooted her chair closer to him. “Hold my hand and tell me a story about the stars,” he told her. And she did. She told him the legends about the zodiac and compared them to the spirits she had actually met. He fell asleep again, listening to her soft voice. *~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*

“I’ve been gone for a year, and my father never cared. Now he suddenly wants me back? Why? I never mattered before!” Lucy’s words echoed through Gray’s mind. The team was on the way back from her childhood home after defeating Phantom Lord. So many things he had learned about Lucy made his other impressions of her make sense.

Then again, many things he knew about her were thrown into question as well. How had the daughter of a wealthy family, brought up to be a prim and proper lady, ended up wanting to join one of the most notoriously destructive guilds in Fiore? He thought back to her cleaning his would after Galuna. She hadn’t even flinched as she worked on the grisly injury that had ripped him open. How? A Lady would never have been able to see something so gruesome without reaction, much less touch it. Yet Lucy had done both, without a moment’s hesitation.

“I never mattered before!” he heard in his ears again and he ground his teeth in anger. The look on her face when she said that haunting sentence made it clear that she believed it. That anyone could make a woman like Lucy believe that she didn’t matter was abhorrent to him. He was making himself angry, thinking about all this. He needed to calm down or he might do something stupid and ruin his friendship with Lucy; something he was unwilling to do.

He glanced down at her sitting beside him. She was reading a book, chewing on her damn thumbnail again. He hooked his finger into her palm and pulled her hand into his. She jolted slightly and looked over at him.

“Stop doing that,” he grumbled at her.

She smiled sheepishly up at him. “Sorry…I—” She stopped as a warbling moan drifted over to them from across the aisle. Natsu was lying across the entire bench, his fists pressed into his gut in an attempt to keep them from spinning. Erza stared out the window across from him blankly.

Turning back to him, she found him glaring at the empty seat across from him. “Gray, will you tell me what’s bothering you? You’ve looked so angry since we got on the train…” She spoke softly, keeping their conversation between them.

How could he express what he was feeling? The rage at her father for making her feel like an afterthought made him want to hurt the man. His confused feelings for her made the situation even more complicated for him. He was attracted to her, but they were friends, and she was Natsu’s partner.

He wet his lips and finally spoke just as softly. “I want to make sure you know….You matter Lucy. So much. I’ll never let anyone make you doubt it again.” Her eyes widened and she flushed, looking down. He squeezed the hand he was still holding gently, and her lips twitched upwards momentarily.

His intensity was something she always found a bit intimidating. Hearing it directed at something focused on her made her stomach do a somersault. Finally, she found her voice again and said, “Thanks for coming to get me. The train ride home was much better with you guys around. It means a lot to me to know that…..that you cared enough to look for me.”

“Of course I—we did. You’re Lucy of Fairy Tail, and no one is gonna take you away if you don’t want to go.” She smiled at him and settled in beside him, laying her head on his shoulder. Gray tipped his head over to rest on top of hers and closed his eyes. They sat together like that until the train jolted, signaling the end of their journey.

Gray picked up his head and looked around. They were slowing rapidly as the farthest outskirts of Magnolia slipped past them. He looked down at Lucy to find her asleep on his shoulder. Gently, he nudged her awake. “Lucy….wake up. We’re almost home.” She lifted her head and blinked blearily as she looked around them.

Her face lit up and she let out a hum of happiness as she stretched. “Home. Properly this time.”

[whatimdoing-here]

go team go!

NCIS Hawaii 2x05

[thatfanficstuff]

Not About You - 26

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x OFC

Warnings: nothing beyond canon

They’d seen less of Elena since Caroline exposed her to the truth. The blonde was the only one even moderately upset about it. When she did see her other friends, she’d taken to meeting them at the grill or one of their houses.

The decision had been made for Caroline and Stefan to have a rather public breakup hoping Katherine would leave Care the hell alone. Lucy thought the plan was stupid.

“You two should consider doing the same thing,” Stefan said.

Lucy and Damon exchanged a look before turning back to the younger Salvatore. “No,” they said in unison.

Stefan shook his head but shrugged. It was up to them. He wasn’t going to waste time trying to talk them into it.

The next day was the volunteer day to work on the new park. Why a town this size needed more than one park, Lucy had no idea.

“Wake up, princess. We have things to do,” Damon told her as he leaned over her waiting for her eyes to open.

Lucy groaned. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Community spirit?” Once his girlfriend sat up, he handed her a cup of coffee.

She sipped it and hummed at the taste. “Can’t we just admit I’m antisocial and stay locked in the house?”

He tilted his head as if he was considering it. “No, we can’t. I’m on the council and we need to witness Stef and blondie’s big fight.”

Lucy sighed. “Fine. Find me something to wear.”

They both dressed in jeans and one of Damon’s t-shirts so they almost matched as they arrived hand in hand and half an hour late.

They split up, Lucy looking for Caroline while Damon searched for his brother. Lucy soon found the blonde painting a shelter with Elena. She greeted both of the younger women with a nod of her head. “How’s it going, Care? You and Stef still fighting?”

Caroline sighed. “Yes. He’s worried about Katherine.”

“You didn’t tell me that you and Stefan had a fight,” Elena said as she came to stand with them.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I want to talk about it.” The baby vamp released a groan of frustration. “He’s so stubborn.”

“To be fair, she did kill you, Caroline,” Elena said.

Lucy lifted a brow. That was actually a good point. Huh.

Care dropped her brush into the nearly empty bucket of paint. “I’m gonna go talk to him.”

Lucy watched her friend walk away, dropping a hand on Elena’s shoulder when she moved to follow. “Not this time, Elena.”

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest but stayed put. They were too far away to hear what the vampires were saying to each other, but Lucy had the general idea as they’d planned it out the night before. She just hoped Katherine or one of her spies was listening or the effort was wasted.

When Caroline stormed away, Lucy followed after to play the sympathetic bestie. “You okay?” she asked as she fell into step with Caroline.

The blond crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes with a little smirk. “It’s fine. I can’t make him be my boyfriend.”

Lucy hummed in agreement. “So how long do you think it will take him to figure out you’re still living in the house?”

Caroline laughed then covered her mouth with her hand. Despite Katherine’s short temper, they decided the safest place for Care was still the boarding house. If worse came to worst she could just stay inside where the elder vampire couldn’t reach her.

They walked around a bit talking about nothing and everything. Caroline came to a sudden stop and she grabbed Lucy’s arm to stop her as well. The vampire’s gaze was trained on her mother walking about ten feet in front of them.

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked once the sheriff was off her phone.

Care shook her head. “I don’t know. Something.”

That was enough for Lucy to jog over to Damon’s car to retrieve the gun with the vervain darts she’d shoved under her seat. She secured it in the back of her jeans before making her way back to her friend. Caroline took her hand to pull her to the top of a hill inside the edge of the woods just outside the park. “I need to be able to hear better.”

Lucy watched as the vampire tried to filter through the sounds surrounding them. She gasped and her eyes flew open. “Damon and Stefan.”

Lucy’s stomach dropped and she instantly felt sick as she followed her friend through the woods. It didn’t take long for Caroline to stop at a small clearing. “They’ve been here.” She crouched and wiped some blood from a leaf.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Lucy drew her gun for all the good it would do against any non-vamp enemies. They both turned at the sound of Mason Lockwood’s voice. “What are you two doing out here?”

She bit back the tirade that sat on the tip of her tongue. There was no point in asking if he was involved in whatever happened because of course he was. She really needed to start carrying wolfsbane darts. “Where are they?”

He shifted his gaze from her to Caroline. “I’ll think I’ll let your friend here sniff them out. Does your mother know what you are? I’d be happy to tell her.”

“Don’t be a dick, Lockwood,” Lucy said.

A beat later Caroline wrapped a hand around Mason’s throat and slammed him against a tree. She released him and he fell to the ground. A swift kick to the ribs had him flying across the clearing and bouncing off another tree. Asshole.

Lucy smirked and gave him a little wave as she hurried after Caroline to find their boys. It didn’t take them long to arrive at the old Lockwood cellar. Of course. Lucy took a deep breath. “How do you want to do this?”

Care shook her head, fear contorting her features. “I can’t go down there. My mom can’t know I’m like this.”

Irritation flooded through the human but she bit it back and simply nodded once. “It’s okay, Care.” She considered the weapon tucked in the back of her jeans. With good enough aim, even the vervain darts would injure a human. She really needed to start carrying tranquilizer darts. Not wanting to waste any more time, Lucy headed down the steps into the dimly lit cellar.

Liz’s gaze immediately narrowed and locked on Lucy when she stepped into view. “Ms. Williams, what are you doing here?”

“Came to rescue my boyfriend.” She held her hands up, palms out to show she meant no harm. There were two other deputies in the room but she kept her focus on the sheriff. That was who she had to convince. The others would follow their boss’s lead. “I’m kind of attached to him. I’d hate to have to train a new one.”

Damon released a pained chuckle. “Hey, Luce.”

“You don’t understand. You don’t know what he is,” Liz argued.

Lucy smirked. “Sure, I do”

The sheriff’s weapon immediately shifted to point at the other woman. “Are you one of them too? How are you all walking around in the daylight?”

Lucy froze in surprise and Damon tried unsuccessfully to push himself onto his elbows. “No, Liz. Hey, no. She’s not a vampire. Leave her alone. She doesn’t have anything to do with this. Come on, point the gun back at me.”

“Listen, Sheriff, I’m not a threat. I just want you to take a minute to think. Don’t react. Think. Damon is your friend. Do you really want to kill your friend?” Lucy tried to reason with the other woman. Tried to calm her.

“He’s not my friend. It was all lies.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Liz looked frantically between Lucy and Damon. Lucy took the opportunity to step closer trying to close the distance. The sheriff’s response was immediate and extreme. Pain slammed into Lucy’s shoulder before radiating through the rest of her body.

She hissed in a breath. “You shot me. What the fuck? That’s just rude.”

Damon’s eyes were wide and worried but there wasn’t much he could do. Lucy was surprised he was even awake with the amount of vervain they probably pumped into him.

Liz’s face was contorted in shock but before she even had a chance to react a blur swept into the room. The throats were ripped out of both deputies and the sheriff disarmed before Lucy could even blink.

“Hi Mom,” Caroline said from somewhere behind her.

Lucy shoved the stunned sheriff to the side and dropped to the floor beside Damon. She helped him sit up and he immediately focused on her shoulder. In turn, she ran her hand through his hair before cupping his face and pressing a light kiss to his lips. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll heal. I’m more worried about you.”

She moved to sit beside him. “You can fix me up after you take care of yourself. Eat,” she said and gestured to one of the deputies.

He stared at her for another moment before moving to do as she’d said. Lucy’s attention shifted to the rest of the room. Caroline was kneeling in front of Stefan looking him over. The younger Salvatore was wiping the blood from his girlfriend’s face while they talked. Liz sat on a ledge along the edge of the room. She looked devastated.

Lucy rolled her eyes. She shifted her weight and hissed when she moved her shoulder wrong and a jolt of pain shot through it. Damon’s gaze shot to her with the sound and she waved him off. Once he’d drank his fill and removed the bullets from his own body he focused on his girl.

He kissed her head as he prepared to dig the bullet from her shoulder. “Hold on, Baby. This is going to hurt like a bitch.” Lucy screamed through clenched teeth while Damon muttered “Sorry” repeatedly. Finally, he tossed the wooden bullet to the side and pulled her into his arms. He bit his wrist and held it up to her. She drank what she needed to heal then allowed herself to just stay pressed against his chest for a moment.

Liz just watched everything with a dazed expression. She barely even registered when Damon stood and pulled Lucy up with him. He walked over to his friend and looked down at her. “Now, what are we going to do with you?”

Caroline was quick to intervene. “She won’t tell anyone. Will you, mom?”

The older woman said nothing as tears pooled in her eyes. She wouldn’t even look at her daughter.

“Mom, he’ll kill you.” Caroline’s voice was little more than a plea.

“Then kill me.” Liz’s voice broke. “I can’t take this.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lucy muttered as she swept one of the deputies’ guns from the floor and pointed it at the blonde bitch.

“Woah,” Damon said, pushing the barrel of the gun toward the floor. “No shooting.”

Lucy frowned. “She shot you.”

“Yep.”

“She shot me.”

“I am aware.”

“She’s hurting Caroline.”

Damon’s gaze softened. “I know. You still can’t shoot her.” He removed the gun completely from Lucy’s grip.

“Can I yell at her?” Lucy asked with a pout.

“Have at it,” he answered gesturing to the sheriff.

“Luce—” Caroline started but was cut off by Stefan pulling her into his arms and shushing her.

Lucy would have ignored her anyway. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she said as she moved closer to the other woman. “Your daughter is right there.” When Liz still wouldn’t look at her daughter, Lucy grabbed her chin and forcibly turned her head. When the blonde fought her hold, Lucy only tightened her grip. “That girl is one of the best people I know. She’s sweet and caring and loving. And all of that is in spite of you, not because of you. Because you’re never around, are you?”

Finally, she released the other woman who instantly turned her head as tears leaked down her face. Lucy continued her rant. “Did you even know that she lives at the boarding house with us? Did you just think you kept missing her? Did you care? Now, she needs you more than ever and you still aren’t there for her. I guess we shouldn’t be fucking surprised.”

She turned away, too disgusted to continue the tirade. She grabbed Caroline’s wrist on the way by and pulled her outside. And while the brothers cleaned up the mess and decided what to do with the sheriff, Lucy held her best friend while she broke.

[qqueenofhades]

I tried picking a non-smutty Garcy prompt but “10. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”” won’t leave me alone :’) no pressure ofc

They realize at the last minute -- after they have already unwisely braved the madness of the grocery store, picked up supplies for Christmas Eve snacks, checked the mail, and are all prepared to settle in for a cozy evening -- that they have forgotten to get something for Denise and Michelle. Not least because Hallmark has never made a card that says anything like "thank you for serving as my foster mother and helping me save the world from my evil family and their cultish secret society while we lived for a few years underground in an off-the-grid bunker, best wishes to you and yours this holiday season," and so when Lucy was out grabbing things for everyone else, she put it in the "later" pile and then promptly forgot. "Oh, fuck it," she says, having sifted through their bags and reached the unassailable conclusion. "I'm going to have to go out again."

Flynn raises an eyebrow at her, as if to comment that venturing to the mall in the last hours of frenzied capitalist mayhem might be more dangerous than all the gun-toting Rittenhouse agents in existence. Still, loyal as ever, he says, "I'll come with you."

"You don't have to do that," Lucy says distractedly, fishing for the car keys that she literally just put down. "Really."

Flynn shrugs. "Eh. Got nothing better to do. And you could use a bodyguard, in case they're actually biting."

Lucy snorts, but is secretly glad that he's offered; she isn't altogether sure that they won't. That's how they find themselves, having battled through the inevitably horrendous traffic, walking into a mall that seems largely jam-packed with panicked men who have procrastinated on their shopping and are now paying the price for it. They eye up the various storefronts, trying to decide what to get Denise, until Flynn says, "How about a nice watch? To keep time."

"You're such a troll," Lucy sighs, although she doesn't know why she ever expected anything different. Unfortunately, she is drawing a blank on anything else (a gift card to a craft store?) and so they hurry to an upper-crust jewelry store. Of course, the salesman instantly thinks they're coming for an engagement ring, and... well, Lucy was never into the whole schmaltzy-Christmas-proposal thing, but she doesn't hate the idea. Of Flynn asking her to marry him, that is. Not now, of course. But later.

When they announce that they have come for a watch, however, they are shuttled over to another desk, where the blonde salesgirl in a low-cut sweater is more than happy to help them and immediately starts making all kinds of eyes at Flynn. She even goes so far as to ask if there's someone special in his life in a tone strongly implying that she's up for filling the vacancy, which Lucy thinks is ridiculous -- she herself is standing right here! She makes a few pointed noises, while Flynn gives her an amused you're-adorable look, finally settles on a nice watch that Denise will either appreciate or demand he return on the spot, and has the salesgirl gift-wrap it. She does so with one more inviting look at him, floats off into the back, and Lucy huffs, "Well, someone clearly wants you for Christmas, don't they?"

Flynn raises the other eyebrow. "Don't worry," he says smugly. "I'm off the market."

Despite her unbecoming burst of green-eyed monsterism, it makes Lucy unduly happy to hear him say that, and once they have collected the wrapped watch, a gift card for Crafty Mama's Yarn Emporium, and a box of chocolates for Michelle and the kids, they take their leave. The instant they get home (for real this time) and have put the stuff out to take over tomorrow, Lucy seizes Flynn (she is half his size, it takes a lot of effort to push him against the wall) and kisses him thoroughly. Just in case, you know. Make sure there's no confusion.

"Well, well, Lucy," Flynn manages, when they break apart, just barely, for a few gulping breaths. "Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you. Should I keep this in mind?"

"Not on your life." Lucy grabs his wrist and pulls him, like a tugboat attached to a barge, and as ever, he goes along with utter delight to be bossed around by her. "Now come upstairs."

[fic prompt list]

[chickensarentcheap]

Tyler post :)

@youflickedtooharddamnit​, @secretaryunpaid​, @tragiclyhip​

So, we got Brookie a dog.  This hell beast she saw up for adoption on the internet and promised she’d take care of.  This thing is pure evil.  Hates everyone but Brookie and Me ( I think because Me is almost the same size and growls and snarls right back at him and now he knows she’s the pack mother and not to fuck with her) and scares the shit right of Mac and Saju who are a hell of a lot bigger. 

Anyway, I really believe shit like this is the reason we can’t have nice things.  And why aliens won’t visit us.

Can you believe I’M expected to walk this thing?  Yeah...no.

Say hello to Lucy. Which -I am one hundred percent sure- is short for Lucifer.

On this episode of ‘we can’t take these feral spawn anywhere’...

Why did we decide to have kids again? I mean, the first one was sort of expected. Not like we were very...careful...about things.  But to willingly have more? 

#Imkiddingspawn #prouddad  #noreallyIam

What in the hell is going on here...

“Dad! I help!”

Drive me to drink is what you do.

A little pro tip for the ones out there that haven’t been married/committed/whatever for that long.

Never...and I mean NEVER...ask a woman whose eating ice cream straight from the carton if everything is okay.  No.  Everything is NOT okay.   And if you dare ask, you’re going to be hearing about it for the next day and a half.

Just let her eat her ice cream in peace.   Especially if you value both your balls -and your place in the big bed- where they are.

And if you make the mistake of saying something that could be taken as criticism or not sympathetic enough (believe me, I’ve fucked that up a few times),  grab your car keys and say you’re going to get her even MORE ice cream.   And then hit up a store a couple HOURS away.    She might be a little more reasonable if she’s left alone for that long.

MIGHT BE.

There’s homicide in those eyes.

May not be directed at me (thank God) but ’m going to have be the one to carry the body and help dispose of it. I’m too pretty for prison.

All I heard was the barista say:  “Why do men always do stupid shit?”. I’m pretty sure my wife contributed some kind of story about me.  She doesn’t laugh like that for no reason.

I bet it’s about the time I used  a staple gun to put up outdoor Christmas list.  #worksmarternotharder

Tasman: (with a huge sigh): “Mummy, you’re so cute.”    Looks at me (covered in sweat and dirt and oil after working on the truck, wearing just a backwards ball cap and jeans) with the utmost disdain “Daddy, you’re alright.” Pause.  “I guess.”

SAVAGE.

Hate to break it to you kid, but you look like me. So joke’s on you.

No one:

Addie to some random boy child walking by:  “Stay out of my sun, bitch!”

#sharkbiscuit

The look you get when you’re spotted putting your shoes on and they realize you have no intention of taking them with you.

You really want to confuse the hell out of her?  Right in the middle of a serious conversation, ask shit like “If when a door is open it’s called a jar, how come when a jar is open, it’s not called a door?” and then walk away.

I don’t know if she’s stunned or if she’s thinking I’ve snapped my last shred of sanity and it considering committing me.

Her: (silent as I’m peeling off my wet suit and she’s eyeing me like a piece of meat)

Me: No. We’ve been there three times this week. We are NOT going to Target. 

Her: Tyler James...

Me: Esme Michelle...

Her:

Me:  Go alone if you want to go.  You don’t need me holding your hand while you buy needless shit.

Her: I don’t like going alone. I like when you come with me.  I like your company.

Me (an hour later, pulling into the Target parking lot): I really need to learn how to say no.

Her: (having the nerve to grab my dick through my shorts) No you don’t.

How did I go from kicking ass and taking names to being relegated to Target cart pushing bitch? It’s the dick grabbing. Definitely the dick grabbing.

Brookie ready to square up. Atta girl. Throw those hands.

I mean, violence is never the answer!

#untilitis

She was standing there watching the three littlest as they built sandcastles, and some random drongo walked up to her and started trying to pick her up.  Complimenting her ass, calling her a MILF, asking her if she wanted to ‘hook up’.   She mentioned she was married and he said something like “what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him” and she told him “He’ll hurt you” and then pointed at me.

I’m pretty sure he wet his pants. Before practically running away.

#dontmakemekillyou. #sheISaMilftho

This one remains the biggest argument in the house.  I say he looks like her, she says he looks like me.  

Always a huge ego boost when you’re stripping off your dirty, sweaty clothes and your wife (even a decade later) is looking at you like THIS:

Her (as I’m down to just boxer briefs): So you WERE just happy to see me.

(I’d like to add that once I was fully naked, she offered me a twenty for a ‘good time’.  True story)

My wife listening to the bullshit at TJ’s ‘meet the teacher night’

She’s thinking about pitchers of margaritas right now.

Me (listening to women from the school council bitch and moan about their ‘lazy ass husbands’): “Oh that’s cute. Mine just built me a bitch barn and is going to be alone for an entire five days with all seven kids while I go away with my sister.  A trip HE planned as a surprise.

Hey, I’m not perfect, but at least I try.

[jakey-beefed-it]

Yet. More. Star Trek: Online shenanigans.

I started playing my OG STO character again for the first time in like 10 years. I had forgotten how much I liked him. In the intervening time we got the ST: Discovery uniforms, so I made those the norm (with a color shift to update them to early 25th century command/operations/science color shoulders) on his crew and decided they’re all specifically associated with Starfleet Intelligence. He was always my more martial Starfleet captain, modeled on Ben Sisko with a dash of William Adama, but he still has a strong moral code so Section 31 is still on his shit list forever. So, Starfleet Intelligence- fly an under-sized and over-gunned escort with a cloaking device, beam in, covert ops as needed.

The USS Chin’toka is the aforementioned over-gunned escort, using elements from the Defiant as well as the Vanguard class of escorts. The ship is named after the system just inside Cardassian space where two major battles were fought in the Dominion War. It’s like naming a ship the Waterloo, or the Yorktown for that matter.

Captain Hector ‘Two-Gun’ Ramirez is a human from Cuba, on Earth. Sternly professional and coolly tactical in command, those who know him well (including most of his senior staff) are more familiar with his wry humor and passions for xenoanthropology and comparative literature. He is startlingly good at 3d chess, though he seems to take his few losses in as good a humor as his wins. On the ground, he evinces an array of startling physical abilities uncommon among humans- ambidexterity, situational and bodily awareness, and strength rivaling an untrained vulcan. Ramirez himself is unaware, but the reason for all of this is that he is in fact an augment, genetically designed for greater mental and physical abilities. Starfleet Intelligence knows, however. The prominent scar on his face comes from a bat’leth, during a close quarters fight in the Federation-Klingon war of 2409.

Commander Sedys sh’Thasari is his first officer, herself a skilled tactician with more of a mind for long-term strategy than Captain Ramirez. Andorian, she’s blue with white hair and antennae. She’s the one with the bun. She gets her own picture since she’s the Number One. In space her abilities are primarily focused around getting the most out of the ships’ many phaser cannons as well as managing shield distribution to cover whatever flank is drawing the most fire. On the ground, she focuses on laying down covering fire either with her phaser rifle or with grenades.

Lt. Commander Nyrah Ohlob is second officer and Chief of Operations aboard the Chin’toka. She’s the andorian with the half-shaved curly hair. She knows her way around a starship like few others, using her talents to keep the ship from being blasted apart by much larger vessels.

Lt. Commander Hern Siila is the Science Officer. He’s a bolian! He’s therefore also blue, though with no hair or antennae. On the bridge, he focuses on stealth- both the Chin’toka’s own, and detecting other cloaked ships.

Lt. Commander Irri Lanek is Chief Tactical officer. She’s a cardassian, dammit. As in she’s an ‘alien’ who I tweaked in the character redesign/tailoring thing to look like a cardassian. Since actual cardassian bridge officers are behind a paywall, and fuck that. Her focus is on the quantum torpedo launcher.

You get a whole lot more bridge officers and jobs for them (Chief Medical Officer is a human named Lucy MacAllister, Chief of Security is a jem’hadar named Lurat’iklan) but these four are my go-to away team so they get the focus of this absurdly self-indulgent post.

[ajeepgirl]

Dr. Love Drug

Summary:  Kara solar flares but then gets very very sick. In her very sick state, she takes a bunch of cough medicine and maybe gets a teeny tiny bit high from it, and then goes to the pharmacy for medicine. Once there, Kara meets the most beautiful woman she has ever seen. And well, in her current state, chaos ensues.

Read On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33649807

Kara was doing it herself. Alone. Solo. If only to prove to Alex, Maggie, Winn, Lucy, and James that she could. Sure, maybe she had never done it before, because she never needed to do it before. But here she was, doing it. She could do it.

That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway, as she walked down the street, to the pharmacy near her apartment.

Her pounding head and double vision be damned.

She really hates it when she solar flares… Even more so when she winds up sick because of it. This time though, she isn’t just sick, no, she somehow got a massive sinus affection, pink eye, and the flu, all at the same time. All her friends were steering clear of her. Even Alex didn’t want to go near her.

Kara stumbles as she walks into the pharmacy, catching herself on a shelf, she blinks a few times to try to clear her vision and her head. It doesn’t help. Neither did the bottle of cough syrup she chugged that morning, apparently, as she coughs a few times. Nothing seems to help. She has no idea how humans stand being sick. Or how they haven’t figured out how to eradicate bacteria and viruses that lead to this level of suffering. She attempts to breathe through her nose, before remembering how stuffed it is, and resorts back to her awkward mouth breathing as she makes her way to the back of the store to the pharmacy (“You need real medicine!” Alex insisted, as she filled out some pad with scribbles on it).

It’s what led to Kara coming here. Alex was filling it out, saying she would run to the pharmacy for her, when she got a call from the DEO, from J’onn. It was an emergency. Kara insisted she could get the medicine herself. She knew without Supergirl, that the DEO needed her sister. Alex hesitated, she didn’t want Kara wandering around the city alone, in her current state. But when Kara pointed out that Alex had no idea how long her emergency would take, she caved and handed over the white slip of paper, setting it on the counter, giving Kara plenty of space, not wanting to catch whatever plague she had.

Alex thought she was funny. Kara did not.

As Kara approached the pharmacy, she waited for the person in front of her to finish, and she noticed how her head felt like it was flying… or more accurately, floating, several feet above her body. Was this another symptom? Maybe she did overdo it with the cough syrup after Alex left. She had no idea how much to take. The numbers on the bottle were too small to read in her current condition. Oh well. Too late now.

“Next?” Kara hears the female voice through her muffled ears.

Kara smiles widely as she hands over the folded pieces of paper. The pharmacist, a woman with long dark hair and piercing green eyes, takes the paper and opens it, and then looks back at Kara, her eyebrow raised curiously.

“Miss, this isn’t your prescription. It’s just a sticky note with your name and number.”

Now, if Kara had been in her right state of mind, she would have realized her error. She would have realized that she had grabbed the wrote piece of paper off her counter at the apartment. She had written this down before, when she was prepping for a meeting with a contact for a new article. She wanted to have it ready to go, to hand off to the person. But then a fight happened, and the solar flare happened, and she got sick… and well, the paper ended up back on her counter.

Apparently, right next to where Alex sat the prescription.

Kara, however, was not in her right state of mind. Oh no, in fact, the moment she looked at the woman behind the counter, all she could focus on was how strikingly beautiful she was. Her jawline could cut glass. Her hair was long but pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her eyes, though, are what Kara couldn’t stop going back to.

As the woman spoke to Kara, she simply stared back for a moment, the fog in her mind seeming to block out her ability to function.

“Miss?” The woman said again.

This time, Kara looks at the pharmacist, the wide grin back on her face, her nose red, as her brain decides to work a little bit more as she says, “I guess I just need your love drug.”

The pharmacist simply stares back, silent.

But Kara, she didn’t stop there, oh no. She then leans in, and whispers. “Can I tell you something?”

The woman is now smirking, intrigued by the clearly very sick and apparently high, person before her. The woman bends forward ever so slightly. “I’m listening.”

Kara looks around, dramatically, to the very empty area around her. “I’m Supergirl.”

And then… Kara gives her a wink… and does finger guns.

It’s surreal, as the woman stands there, staring at her, taking her in fully for the first time, really sizing her up. As she does, Kara reaches up to take her glasses off. And that’s when she realizes… she was never wearing them.

Her eyes go wide as she looks back at the woman before her, as a second of sanity creeps its way into the fog of Kara’s mind as she also realizes that in her sick state, she has also left her hair hang down. “Oh Rao. I just did that.”

And the woman laughs.

“It is not funny,” Kara says as she leans back down again, this time at her name tag, “Dr. Kieran.”

The woman looks backward to the clock on the wall. “It’s time for my break, let’s take a walk, shall we?”

Kara’s eyes widen and then narrow. “Why?”

This time, the woman, Dr. Kieran, leans in. Kara naturally also tilts in to listen. “Because we shouldn’t talk about secret identities in public.”

Kara nods seriously as Dr. Kieran disappears for a moment in the back of the pharmacy and then reappear as she exits the pharmacy from a door a few feet from Kara. She waves Kara over to her as she walks towards the exit.

“Do you live near here?” she asks Kara as they make their way outside.

Kara nods and heads in that direction, with Dr. Kieran a half step behind her. Halfway there though, Kara starts to get woozy, the energy needed to be up and moving around this much apparently taking more out of her than she realizes. She turns to her new friend, eyes a little panicked looking. “Um… I think… I might…”

“Oh, fuck me. Don’t you dare-” Dr. Kieran says it as she turns to Kara, arms out, ready to catch her.

And that’s all Kara hears before she feels herself start to fall and the world goes black.

---------------

Kara feels warm, like she is wrapped by the sun when she starts to awaken. It takes her a moment to realize she is wrapped in several blankets. As she opens her eyes, she realizes she is most definitely not in her own apartment. She starts to sit up, a quick gasp coming out of her mouth.

“Woah, easy there,” comes the melodious voice from earlier that day. A hand lands on her shoulder. Kara turns slightly to see the familiar green eyes. “Easy, Kara, you might pass out again.”

Kara hesitates, feeling the woman’s hand on her shoulder and recalling the events from earlier. “How long was I out?” she asks.

Dr. Kieran glances at the clock on the wall. “About two hours.”

Kara looks around for her phone but doesn’t see it anywhere. “Do you know where my phone is?”

Dr. Kieran’s head tilts in confusion. “You didn’t have a phone on you, Kara. Just some cash and that sticky note you… mistook for a prescription.”

Kara feels her cheeks go red. “Right…”

Dr. Kieran sits down next to her on the coffee table. “Hey, I need to check your temperature, ok? See if your fever has broken.”

Kara nods, giving permission to Dr. Kieran, who then feels her forehead. “Oh good, I think it has finally broken. Now, do you want to tell me exactly how much cough syrup you took? I was afraid to give you any medicine because I wasn’t sure exactly how high you were.”

Kara feels her cheeks turn a brighter shade of red. “I… um… well… I wasn’t sure how much was enough… and I just… wouldn’t stop coughing…”

Dr. Kieran hums. “Don’t get sick often do we, Supergirl?”

Kara’s eyes widen. “What? Um… I’m not… who told you that?”

“You did.” She says, matter-of-factly.

The reminder sends the memory flashing through Kara’s mind. “Oh Rao. I… I said that… in public. Alex is going to kill me.”

“Who is Alex?” Dr. Kieran asks, interrupting Kara’s thoughts of panic.

“Oh, my… my sister. She is very protective of me.”

Dr. Kieran nods understandingly. “Well, my security specialist Querl has already made the security tape from the pharmacy disappear.”

“I’m… wait, you did what now?” Kara says confused.

The woman smiles at Kara mischievously. “I said, your sister doesn’t need to worry, I was the only one there when you said it, and any proof of you saying it, has been taken care of.”

“Wow… um… thank you,” Kara stammers out as she feels her face heating up again.

Dr. Kieran half smiles. “Now that we have all that settled. How about I get you some soup from my kitchen, and we get you all better, ok?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Kara says. “I… I can go home… I can manage…”

“Kara, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you clearly have no idea what to do when you are sick. And it appears, based on the fact that you showed up at the pharmacy, that you could use someone’s assistance in this matter. So please, let me help you.”

“Why? I mean… why would you help me? Why not out me? You literally have my full name and number.”

The pharmacist gives Kara a sad smile. “I know you don’t know me, personally, Kara. But you spend your time, when you are being Supergirl, protecting people. I assume that means you think there are people worth protecting, yes?”

Kara nods slowly.

“Well, even superheroes need protecting, sometimes too. Whether that is from some big bad evil person, or from a teeny tiny flu virus. So please, let me help you this one time.” She gives Kara a small smile as she gets up and walks off toward the kitchen, though not before giving her a small squeeze on the shoulder.

Kara lays back down, her mind swirling. This woman, Dr. Kieran, might just be the most brilliant, kindhearted, beautiful soul she has ever met.

----------------

Kara falls asleep shortly after she finishes the soup. When she awakes again, she finds Dr. Kieran in the chair next to her, reading a book.

“Ah, how is our patient?” she asks, seeing Kara stirring as she sits up.

Kara takes stock of her symptoms, noticing that she can breathe a little easier now. “I think I am on the mend, doc,” she says with a smile.

“Lena,” she says in return. “You can call me Lena.”

Kara smiles. “Thank you for your hospitality. I should probably get going though. My sister is probably freaking out.”

“Oh… about that,” Lena says as she pulls out a familiar phone. “With your name and number, I was able to find your address. I sent Querl over to retrieve your phone. Good thing I did too, you left your door unlocked.”

Kara blushes as she takes the phone from Lena. “Thank you…”

She sees five missed calls from her sister. “Oh no… Um… excuse me?”

Lena nods with a small smile. “Of course, I will make myself scarce so you can talk to your sister.”

The conversation doesn’t go completely awful. Though Kara might have skipped over the part where she told the pharmacist that she was Supergirl and only told her sister the part about how she passed out and the pharmacist she met is taking care of her for now.

“My sister would like for me to text her your address. Otherwise, she might be forced to use her government job to find you,” Kara says, using air quotes for the second part of her statement, as Lena reenters the room a few minutes later.

Lena laughs. “Good luck with that.”

Kara’s head tilts in confusion.

Lena only shrugs. “Long story. Look, I can drive you back to your place, whenever you want. No need for big sis to storm the castle.”

“Thank you,” Kara says with a gracious smile.

“I didn’t know Supergirl had a sister,” Lena says as she sits back down in her chair.

“Oh… she is human. My… adopted sister, from my Earth family. Very wonderful people. But very protective.”

“Ah, I see, adoption is… always complicated,” Lena says solemnly.

“You were adopted too?” Kara asks.

Lena nods. “When I was four. But we should really be focusing on you, Kara and getting you better.”

“You are doing a great job so far,” Kara says with a toothy smile.

“Oh, is my love drug working?” Lena says back with a smirk.

Kara’s face turns bright red. “Um…”

Lena chuckles. “How about I get you some fluids, maybe some water and Gatorade?”

She stands up and walks off, leaving Kara to stammer to herself for a moment. By the time Lena comes back with the drinks for her, Kara has seemingly recovered enough to speak again.

Lena hands her the water first. “Thank you. And can I just say, for the record, you are an amazingly gorgeous, attractive person.”

Lena smiles, a slight blush creeping up her neck.

“And I would love to have met you under circumstances where I wasn’t…”

“High on cough syrup?”

“Sick, I was going to say, sick,” Kara counters. “Anyway… I wanted to also thank you for taking care of me… and apologize for ruining your day.”

Lena sits down on the coffee table in front of Kara as she speaks, an odd, unreadable expression on her face. “You… don’t need to apologize for anything, Kara. I am just glad that it seems like after a few more hours of sleep, that you are nearly recovered. I assume that perhaps your powers are starting to return?”

Kara gives a small nod. “I think my cells are slowly reactivating, yes. I can tell that my sickness is nearly gone.”

“That’s wonderful. You will be out there saving people again in no time.”

“Wait, how did you know my powers were returning?” Kara asks, her mind finally starting to work a bit clearer again.

Lena has a thin small smile. “I suppose I couldn’t convince you that I just looked it up on the internet, could I?”

Kara’s head tilts sideways as she gives a soft, pouting look.

Lena lets out a low sigh. “I have a sibling too.”

“Oh?” Kara asks, unsure of how this connects at all to what they were just talking about. She is even more confused than before.

“You have probably heard of him since your cousin has worked closely with him,” Lena says as she stares down at the floor.

“Wh… what are you saying, Lena?” Kara asks as she sits up fully now.

Lena looks up, green eyes meeting blue as she searches in Kara, hoping that Kara won’t judge her for what she is about to say.

“My brother is Lex… Lex Luthor.”

The room falls silent.

Kara stares at Lena.

Seconds tick by.

Lena, unable to take it any longer, stands and says, “I understand… I can drive you home… or pay a service to take you home… whichever you prefer.”

Kara’s hand reaches out, and grabs Lena’s, holding her in place. “No, wait, I’m sorry. I’m just… still processing.”

Lena looks down, seeing Kara’s hand still wrapped around her own. She looks back at Kara, who uses her free hand to pat the couch, inviting Lena to sit next to her. “Please, sit down? I would like to hear your story… if you want to share it.”

Lena lets out a shaky breath as she smiles and says, “Ok.”

She sits next to Kara and tells her all about her life, though she focuses mostly on the past couple of years. She tells her how she went into hiding after Lex’s attack. She knows it is only a matter of time before he finds a way out of prison. So, she went into hiding under the name Kieran. She moved across the country to National City and got a job as a pharmacist. She has a private security team that she trusts with her life, and she has a small science lab in her home where she continues to tinker and build inventions. And she hopes to eventually launch a new science and technology company under a new name. But for now, she is steering clear of the limelight and of Lex’s prying eyes.

Kara is quiet as she listens intently to Lena’s story. She remembers her own thoughts from earlier that day and is glad she was right - brilliant, kindhearted, beautiful.

“Lena, wow, I’m glad you are safe.”

“You… you believe me?” Lena asks, surprised.

Kara nudges her with her shoulder. “Of course, I believe you. You literally took care of me all day today. You rescued me. I mean, I was wondering around the city, completely discombobulated, out of my mind, and then I passed out. You are my knight in a white lab coat!”

This draws a laugh out of them both.

“I’m glad I could help, Kara, seriously. I know I don’t have to… but a part of me feels like I should be trying to make up for all the evil things my brother has done.”

Kara nods, knowingly. “I understand. In a lot of ways, I feel like I am trying to make up for the sins of my people… I… I have to save this world because my parents couldn’t save my world.”

“Wow… yeah, Kara… that’s… that’s a heavy burden to carry. Can I ask, why you and not your cousin?”

Kara lets out a long sigh before she explains. “He was an infant… he has no memory of our planet. But me, I was a teenager. And it was my parents who played a huge role in the destruction of the planet by ignoring my Aunt Astra’s warnings. So… in a way… I have to make sure that I do not repeat the sins of my family’s past… my people’s past. My cousin, Superman, Kal El, he has no memories of these things… so they do not weight on him… or haunt him… like they do me.”

“Kara…” Lena says, trailing off. “I… I don’t know what to say… I cannot image being the last of your people… to have lost so much… and yet still feel such a strong desire to help and to protect… I think I would drown in my sorrow if I was in your position.”

Kara’s eyes glimmer with the hint of tears as she shrugs slightly. “Sometimes I do.”

Lena wraps an arm around Kara. “And that’s ok. I lose it all the time because of what happened with my brother.”

This makes Kara chuckle a little as she lets herself sink into Lena. “Just wait until you see Alex blow up at me for being gone for so long. She is going to lose her mind.”

That makes them both laugh even more.

They stay like that for some time, chatting about siblings and family and life before and after being adopted. They can both sense a shared connection, something beyond the fact that Kara is a Super and that Lena is a Luthor. There is something underneath the hero/villain storyline personified by their family ties. There is a story of heartbreak and tragedy and loss that both share. There is the openness and hope that Kara still carries strongly with her, which Lena cannot help but admire. There is the unwavering kindness and brilliance that Lena has despite the way she has been treated by those who claimed to love her throughout her life, which Kara cannot help but be in awe of.

When there is a pounding on Lena’s door later that evening, the two finally pull apart.

“That would be Alex,” Kara says, standing up.

Lena chuckles. “I know. I had Querl wait by your apartment to give her my address.”

Kara laughs, knowing Alex will be so angry she couldn’t figure it out herself. Lena makes her way to the door as Kara follows closely behind.

“Hello, Agent Danvers,” Lena says as she opens the door.

Kara pokes her head from behind Lena. “Hey sis! Give me one minute, ok! I’ll be out in one minute, I promise!”

Alex’s eyes go furious with murder as she grits her teeth. “Fine. One minute.” She eyes Lena closely as Lena smiles widely and closes the door again.

She turns to face Kara, a curious look on her face.

“Well, doc, I don’t have your number. You know, in case I need it for… a follow up.”

Lena’s lips purse together as she tries to hide the smile that wants to launch across her face. She holds her hand out for Kara’s phone, which Kara excitedly hands over. When Lena hands it back, Kara can’t help but giggle when she sees what Lena puts in for her name.

Dr. Love Drug

Kara immediately opens her camera, looks her arm around Lena, and pulls her in for a selfie. Lena’s only half smiling in the picture, caught between a look of confusion and attempting to smile for the picture. Kara sends the picture to Lena as soon as she takes it.

“You know, in case you wanted a token to remember the day,” Kara says with a grin as Lena hears her phone go off from the other room.

Lena shakes her head side to side. “What have I gotten myself into?” she says out loud.

“Oh, just you wait, all the cute dog videos are coming your way,” Kara responds as she opens the door.

Lena smiles fondly. “Goodbye, Kara.”

Kara looks back at Lena one final time, smiling brightly. “Thanks again, Lena.”

[internalsealpanic]

All That Glitters

Summary: Pandora’s box is a black box covered in silk and embossed with the initials R.S.

a/n: So uh this work is a follow up to my fic Better Die than Doubt but it can be read as a stand alone. This thing resulted from the combined might of  @knightfall05x,  @lucy-roo​, and my thirst. I said the follow up to that fic would be fluffy. The chronological follow up will come out at some point. I  just have a single braincell and it decided it wanted to write more Black Mask being an absolute bastard. Thanks to those two hoes for enabling and proof reading. See you both in hell

warnings:  This is smut. I was being haunted. This work contains noncon, past noncon, violence, Roman being an asshole, daddy kink, size kink, strength kink (if you squint ), yandere themes, stalking, exhibitionism, a dude who cannot take no for  an answer and choking.  

masterlist

“Hey Jay,” You chirp into the phone, maneuvering it over your shoulder carefully so you wouldn't drop it while you held your soda can at an arm's length away from you hoping it wouldn’t explode on you when you attempt to open it. 

 “Hey, sweet-” You blow out a raspberry halting the correction in its tracks. You can practically picture Jason’s mouth swerve into an odd shape caught between proceeding with his correction or backtracking.  He chose neither. You hear him swear viciously. You snort making him huff. 

 “What’s up, asshat?” He asks, endearingly. You can pretty much hear him rolling his eyes from this side of the world. You frown hearing how winded he sounded. 

 “Jay, if this is a bad time, I can-”

 “You’re fine it’s just a little-”

 “JAYBIRD, A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE”

 “Roy sounds like he needs help. I can call back later.”

 “Roy can handle himself.”

 “Thanks for the confidence, Jaybird, but I think I’d prefer if you kept shooting straight.”

 You snort feeling warmth build up in your chest despite the chilly weather. You chirp delighted when you open the can and it doesn’t explode. You hear Jason chuckle. The smart remark he had on the edge of his tongue dies on his lips when your breath hitches audibly at the sound of his gun firing. Jason makes a noise, the kind you use to prompt someone to tell you if they’re ok without having to ask. You swallow and nod and curse remembering he can’t see you. You blow out a breath, making sure it comes out steady. 

 “Y/n...”

 “I’m-” You wanted to say fine but you knew the word fine was wholly inappropriate and untrue for this situation. “I’m gonna survive. I promise.” 

 Jason doesn’t make a sound of agreement or disagreement. He simply acknowledges it. You silently thank him for the neutrality. 

 “JAYBIRD”

 “SHUT UP, HARPER”

 You hear Kory sigh in exasperation somewhere in the distance.  In the background, you hear a shriek which you assume is from Jason. Then the line cuts out. 

You try to redial. 

 Nothing. 

 You try again.

 Nothing. 

 A laugh rips out of your chest. You cry out in pain, the fizzy drink rushing up your nose. You wince and curse and settle on blaming Jason.  You suspect they somehow broke the phone. You wouldn’t be too surprised by that outcome. You sigh but there was no point in complaining about it. You might as well finish your lunch in peace. 

   You chew on your cheek as you walk back to your cubicle, everyone’s eyes are on you. You feel your breathing pick up a fraction of a second faster. 

 One

 Two

 .

.

.

.

 Two

 Fuck

 You dig your nails into your palm. Your footfalls become heavier and a little louder even against the white noise around you. You slowdown and shake your head. You haven’t had an attack at work so far and you aren’t about to start now. You inhale deeply, letting your chest expand as you run through the things Dinah taught you.  

 Take stock of the situation around you. 

 The world around you was buzzing with life-shuffling papers, ringing phones, humming of machines, and blips of voices here and there. The room is bright and clean under the light of sterile fluorescent lights. You take in all the voices around you. You’re not alone. The knot building in your shoulders loosens. You continue. 

 Take stock of your body. 

 Your body is trembling, the beginnings of a panic attack looming over you. Instead of cursing it, you let it. It was only natural to relapse once in a while. The trauma wasn’t fresh. Not in your opinion, at least. Dinah and, apparently, everyone else had a different opinion. You’re good at being ok but you were human. You let out a  long breath, half-tempted to let your eyes slide shut but you’re afraid of finding yourself in that room again, of seeing him, of feeling him on you. Revulsion spasmed in your body in powerful waves. Sure, you’re a showboat, Jay had said as much, but showing off and causing a scene were two entirely different things and you weren’t entirely sure you could endure the looks of pity from your coworkers every time you came through those doors. 

 Stiffly, you walk towards your cubicle. Your neighbor, Chelsea, smiling conspiratorially at you while your manager glares daggers at you. You raise an eyebrow at Chelsea who waggles her eyebrows in return.   

 “This is how you tell me I got fired?” You sigh, a smile twitching at the corners of your mouth. 

 Chelsea rolls her eyes at you. “Nope, but the boss man did want me to tell you to tell your boyfriend that he really shouldn’t be sending you gifts at work but honestly, I …...” Your brows knit in confusion, cold dread licking at the pit of your stomach. 

 “I don’t have a boyfriend.” You say slowly trying to keep the mounting panic out of your voice. You could hear your blood pulsating in your ears, heart threatening to jump out of your chest. Your feet are itching for you to run outside and call Jason or Dinah or anyone but the stupider part of you- the curious part of you was clawing at your mind to proceed. 

“Y/n, are- are you ok?” You blink and look at the clock. Two minutes. You blacked out for two minutes which, if you were being totally honest, was a huge improvement. 

 “Yeah. I’m fine.”

 “If you say so” She shrugs, her eyes still not pulling away from you.  

 Mechanically, you turn to your desk. Your entire being freezes when your eyes land on the black box sitting on the desk and the large bouquet of red roses sitting next to it.  The box was rectangular, black with silver trimmings embossed on it. Large ‘R.S.’ written in fancy lettering at the bottom right corner of the lid. You wanted to vomit. 

 You draw a breath and flex your fingers. You can feel your teeth digging into your cheeks. 

 “Hey, Chel?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Can I borrow some tissues?” You ask your voice barely above a whisper but still miraculously steady. She frowns at your handing you a couple of tissues. Normally, you keep your vigilante habits out of your civilian life but considering the initials embossed on this obnoxiously expensive-looking box sitting on your desk, you think this level of paranoia is justified. 

 You stop to calculate the odds that the box contained explosives which turns up zero. You sigh but a shiver climbs up your spine when you run through the possibilities of what Roman could have thought of as a gift. 

 “Y/n, what the fuck?” If Chelsea wasn’t watching you before, she was now. You glance at her quickly and give her a weak smile. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. Cautiously, you lift the lid quietly regretting not calculating the possibility of anything toxic being in it. You’re honestly surprised nothing happened. You roll your eyes upon seeing the expensive-looking black silk covering the inside.

Yes, rub your money in my face while you scare me shitless why don’t you, you fucking asshole, you think grumpily peeling the fabric away. 

 Your heart comes to a full stop when you’re met with a pair of lacy lingerie. Your lacy lingerie. Your USED lacy lingerie. You blink trying not to focus on the white stains. You sincerely did not want to think about that. Moving them aside you find a bloody shirt, the sound of its shifting fabric making gooseflesh spread all over your body. 

 You recognize it. You didn’t want to, but here it was. The bloodstains were dry but they were still visible even against the dark fabric of the shirt. Your skin prickles where the scars on your body sit. The knife wounds sting and throb as if freshly cut.  It takes everything in you not to vomit.

  It was probably the single-minded curiosity that kept you going. You maneuver the shirt carefully making sure it makes as little sound as possible.  Underneath it is a collar, simple but clearly expensive leather with the tag R.S. glittering under the sterile lights. Your throat constricts. You tear your gaze away. Your eyes sting. Next to it was a stack of photos. The top photo showed you with your, shirt torn exposing your breasts. Someone was inside you, gripping your hips. You gag.  You reign your mind in. You flip the stack over and gather your breath. Your heart stops again when you see Roman’s familiar handwriting on the back of a photo.   

 “Miss me?”

The drive back to your apartment was a blur consisting of what was most likely several severe traffic violations but you needed- you need to get out of town as quickly as possible. The odds of Roman himself showing up to your little town was low, very low. Not that you’ve actually calculated it. You don’t need to. The man walks around like his feet bless every surface they touch. The man has a loaded god complex the size of Russia to put it generously. Fetching you was simply beneath him. He had henchmen for a reason after all. 

 You wave to your landlady and her husband amiably as you walk past them keeping the nervous thrum out of your movement. Your landlady returns the gesture, elbowing her sneering husband. You know what he thinks of you and your habits. Take a few guys home with you and suddenly you’re a slut. Your promiscuity was none of his fucking business. Your body was yours to do with, to give, and to take back. It was yours. It’s yours, you assure yourself but the feeling of your body and mind hanging loosely off of each other feels painfully vivid at the moment. 

 You shake your head. This wasn’t the best time to sort out your hang-ups.  

 You press your ear to your apartment door then remembered just how thick it was and remembered that you didn’t exactly have super hearing. You sigh. What you would give to be Supes right about now. You enter the apartment careful not to make your steps audible. That, however, was rendered moot by the two very large and blocky men standing in your living room. You exhale both in frustration and relief. If Roman Fucking Sionis thinks he can scare you with two meatheads, he was clearly insulting you. Well, at least, he didn’t hire anyone actually competent considering all your gear was in a duffle bag tucked neatly away under your bed. Yanno, just for this sort of eventuality. Now that you think about it. You really should have just kept it in your car but small-town crime seems to have softened you. 

 You smile letting the irritation mold you into something sharp and venomous. You throw the box at one of the henchmen goading them to attack you. Its contents scattering all over the floor. You can’t bring yourself to care that some of the photos land right side up. 

 “Tell your chicken shit of a boss to come scare me himself,” You laugh, manic relief flooding through you. You feel like you’re going mad but you don’t care. It’s so much more feasible to deal with these men than it is to have to even think about Roman. “He doesn’t even have the balls to-”

 “Well, it’s nice to see you too, Sweetheart.” comes a gravelly voice from the bedroom. Your stomach drops. Roman strides out of your bedroom adjusting the cuff link of his obnoxiously expensive suit.  He looks down to the photos and gifts scattered on the ground, frowning he bends down to pick up the collar, dusting it off and stuffing it in his pocket. 

 Your fight or flight response freezes. You back into the door, the material feeling too solid for the moment. You inhale sharply, only managing short shallow breaths as Roman slowly closes the distance between you. His footfalls loud, heavy, and deliberately casual making your blood thrum. 

 No. No. No. 

 Your eyes flicker wildly around the room looking for any weapon within reach, your mind running through the numbers, the probabilities melding together into incoherent blotches of red in the back of your skull. Roman slams his large hands on either side of your head. The impact makes the door creak. You can’t stop yourself from flinching visibly, surprise and fear carving themselves on to your face. Roman barks out a derisive laugh as he trails a leather-clad finger down your chin, your throat, then to your cleavage. The contact against your bare skin makes you bristle. 

 “This here?” He emphasizes, his fingers playing with the top button of your shirt popping it carelessly revealing your baby pink, lace bra hidden beneath. “This is a little low cut for the office, isn’t it, princess?”  

 Annoyance overwhelms your sense of self-preservation. “I’m not about to take fashion advice from a guy who looks like he watches Scar Face daily.” You snipe, teeth bared.  Roman hums the undercurrent of rage filling the air. Your ribs ache, remembering an old injury. Your mouth slams shut cutting off any other snide remarks. 

 “You wear these clothes to wind me up, don’t you?” Roman drawls, his leather-clad fingers tracing up the expanse of your thigh exposed by the slit of your skirt, bunching up the skirt and playing with the waistband of your thong as he does so. His thumbs pressing circles against your inner thigh, you can’t help but quiver under his touch. “Oh the fun hasn’t even started yet...just wait”, he bites your ear lobe and tugs it between his teeth. He pulls back and glares at you. “Do you want to know how I found you in this dead-end town, princess?” He asks tilting your chin with his gloved hand. You shake your head not really interested at the moment. You’re too distracted by how flush your body was getting as he presses you further into the door with his bulk. You note with disgust the arousal suffusing through your limbs. 

 “You were all over the news, sweetheart,” You’re trying to remember what he could possibly be talking about. He leans in closer, leather-clad hand brushing against his thumb against your bottom lip, your lips parting automatically for him. He places his gloved thumb between your parted lips. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize that goofy smile of yours?”  You shiver lips wrapping around the intruding digit.  Your tongue flicks and swirls around it in a practiced gesture. “Good girl.” Roman hums, a grin spreading across his face while thick shame blankets you. You frown at how familiar the taste of the glove is against your tongue. You push your thoughts away wishing your mind would fall away. 

 “Baby,” He draws his hand away from your lips, wiping the thin string of saliva on your face. His hands glide down the sides of your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize these hips?” His hands grab at your hips roughly, lifting you and pulling them flush against his own. “Baby. I know what’s mine and this time I won’t let you get away from me.” He whispers against your neck, voice husky and rough. You swallow feeling his lips brush against your pulse. 

 Roughly, he wedges a thigh between your legs, the friction against your core making you keen. The friction woke something in you and loosened a few other things. Your hips roll desperately against the thick muscle of his thighs. Roman grins against your neck,  loosening his grip on your hips and letting you fuck yourself on his thigh. You will yourself to stop but the heat twisting in your gut is too much. You hate yourself. You well and truly hate yourself. Your cheeks warm, breath coming out in pants. 

 Roman places a kiss on your collarbone, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. Your tongue is caught between your teeth to hold back a moan but the shiver spreading throughout your body says it too loudly. Roman chuckles, vibrations deep within his chest making you weak. Roman licks a stripe up your neck, planting kisses and hickeys along your jaw. “God, you taste sweet, princess.” He murmurs hot against your neck, the smirk dripping from his voice. It feels like acid against your skin. 

 He guides your pliant arms to loop around his shoulders. You obey soundlessly, tipping your head back giving him room to ravish your neck. He does with unbridled enthusiasm. You feel trapped in your own body. You don’t want this. You want to push him away but the fear coursing through you leaves you a passenger in your own body. Your breath hitches with each bite and kiss. 

 “Mine.” He rumbles resolutely, sliding the cloth of your top placing a bite on your shoulder. It stings without even looking, you know it’s deep. 

 “No” You whisper, low and unsure. 

 “No?” He challenges pulling away from your shoulder. 

 “No” You echo voice frustratingly unsteady. He sneers down at you, smile condescending. A biting rebellious part of you demands that you snarl and spit something brisque and witty at him but it’s pushed down by something viscous filling your chest. How are you drowning and why are you not dead yet?

 Just let it pass, your mind whispers to itself. Just let him get his fill and he’ll be on his way. You don’t even have to get hurt. You sincerely want to believe this. You just want this to not happen. The thought of it summons a wave of nausea deep within you. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes. You blink rapidly chasing them away. He likes it when you cry. 

 “Baby, you can’t tell me you don’t want this,” He emphasizes, pressing his thigh against your sopping pussy. The pressure makes you whine.  “Not when you’re being all cute and fucking yourself on my thigh like the dirty slut you are.”

 No. No. No.

 Rat-tat. 

 You will your hips to stop their movement but they’re too lost in their momentum. Your eyes flicker to Roman’s men, large eyes pleading. They stand stiffly doing their best to ignore you. They’re doing a damn fine job of it. 

 “Oh they won’t do anything, they’re here to watch,” Roman whispers hotly against your ear.  Your eyes flicker to them again. Your breath catching when your eyes meet one of theirs, seeing not an ounce of pity. You shove the bile rising in your throat and the quirk on their lips deep somewhere else, somewhere away from you.   

 You try to squirm away but Roman’s arm presses into your windpipe pinning you in place. You thrash and kick and hiss but your head feels light. You hear fabric shift and you still. The sound of the zipper is too loud and too real.  

Roman takes your lips in a forceful kiss making you gasp. His tongue forces its way into your mouth.  He releases your neck. You feel his fingers trail up the slits of your skirt. You try to focus on them rather than what’s pressing stiffly against your inner thigh. The fabric of your skirt bunch up by your hips. You feel your panties getting pushed aside by large fingers. You whimper again, clawing at the expensive fabric of Roman’s suit. “Please don’t do this.” You plead breathily against his ear. 

 He laughs, voice gravelly and harsh. Without further warning or preparation or ceremony, Roman shoves himself inside your warmth, pushing you further into the door. You gasp, the burning stretch making your body tremble all over. He bottomed out with a loud groan. You wanted to cover your ears or have your mind fall out of your reach but here it was painfully present along with your frozen body. He’s loud, groaning and panting as he fucks into you. He thrusts into you with wild abandon, hips clashing against each other with bruising intensity. You can feel his cock dragging in and out of you, hitting every spot violently. He wants this to hurt. You hope it would too. 

 Your cheeks burn with how your walls spasm around his cock. You want to push him away, to take him out of you but it feels so good. You try to smother the lewd sounds you make into his shirt.  Roman’s hands squeeze tightly around your waist in warning. “Yeah, that's it, baby. Let daddy know how much you want this.” You don’t protest. Instead, you let your mouth hang open and let the lewd mewls and keens tumble out. He drills into you more violently seemingly spurred on by your sounds. 

 You come with a whimper. You want to bury yourself in a hole. He comes not long after still fucking into you as he does, making sure your pussy takes all of his cum.  

 He pulls out of you, the slick sound of it absolutely sinful. Your body is slack against the door, too drained to hold itself up.  Roman pulls back, grinning down at you and whistling appreciatively as he admires his work. “Let’s dress you back up, sweetheart.” Roman coos locking something around your neck.  You don’t need to look down to know what he’s put there. The cool metal of the R.S. hanging off the collar presses stark against your hot sensitive skin.

 “You look sooo much better like this,” Blearily you look past him. Your duffle bag is already in the arms of one of his men. He grabs your face roughly making you look him in the eyes. “All mine- just as you should be.” 

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Thanks for reading! I swear I will do more fluff in the near future. I just needed this out of my system. 

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

[captain039]

Wasteland heat (Redone) PT 3

Cooper Howard(The Ghoul) x reader

Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, AOB dynamics, heat, oral F receiving, smut, swearing, fallout stuff, implied cousin incest, virgin reader, drug usage, needles, plus size reader, sexual assault

Previous part <-

It's been about a day now, following Lucy, glancing at your pip boy now and then to see if you're still on the right track. She shared the coordinates with you in case by some horrid accident you get separated. The night was quiet, Lucy sometimes commenting to herself or asking how you were. You couldn't shake the feeling of needing to go back to Filly back to whoever gave off such a scent that made your whole brain short-circuit. You felt like a fool so caught up in it, of course, the surface would have this effect on you, it had its effects on everyone. You stare at the head a little too long, wrapped up in Lucy's blanket, which is now bloodied. You couldn't believe she actually went through with it, you swore she'd never hurt a fly really, but then again he'd already been dead.

"Get some sleep ok? I'll keep watch" She offers you a smile and you hesitate on sleeping you cock your head and pat the blanket that isn't big enough for the two of you, but she smiles and lays down beside you, half on half off the blanket, same as you. 

"Hell of a time up here huh?" She chuckles head turned to you as you look at her. 

"Can say that again" You chuckle a smile finally on your face which makes her beam. You sigh relaxing next to her, shoulder to shoulder as you watch the stars. It's surreal, watching the small twinkle of white dots in a dark sky, listening to the wind occasionally pick up, it was almost peaceful if it weren't for all the horrors everywhere. 

Morning comes and you set off again a little lighter than yesterday, you're less on edge and feeling a little hopeful as you walk by Lucy through the brush. You come alongside a river, it's pristine and blue, well not pristine, your rad meter goes up to 10 and it makes you sad that such a beautiful thing is tainted. 

"It's pretty" You comment and Lucy nods admiring the old worn-down houses in the blue water. You hear a small noise and Lucy places her hand on her gun before you see a small creature by the water, a deer, small and fragile enjoying the greens. 

"Woah" You whisper as Lucy grins and you slowly approach with a small amount of grass in your hands. It seems more intent on sniffing you both which makes you laugh softly and gently pet its soft fur. Your moment of bliss is interrupted, something comes from the water and snatches the deer, its cry making you stumble back. It grabs Lucy next who is closest to the water. You stare in horror at whatever mutated being this is and grab onto Lucy. You kick the creature with your boot before Lucy shoots it and it disappears. 

What the-" Before you can finish it snatches the head off of Lucy's backpack and swims back into the water. 

"No!" You follow Lucy as you chase the thing down the river, her tracker beeping its location, you get to a jetty before you can follow it anymore.

"What?" You mutter unsure of what just happened and how your one chance just got stolen by a mutant. You don't hear him, but you feel him instantly, hand on your neck, gun to your head and a hard warm body near yours, scent filling your nose, alpha.

"Lucy-" Is all you manage as she turns around wide eyed and the gun cocks. 

"Sir-" She holds her hands up as you shallowly breathe. He isn't choking you though, he just holds your throat almost gently, but that's the crazy side of your brain talking. 

"Hello, again, look, please don't shoot-" She doesn't finish interrupted by him.

"Where is it?" He asks and her eyes glance away nervously and his grip tightens. 

"OK! ok I lost it!" She laughs nervously and his grip loosens. 

"Sorry sweetheart" You swear you hear ever so quietly before a hard butt of the gun is punched into the back of your forehead. You cry in pain going to your knees as he points the gun to Lucy instead and holds you by your hair. You have tears in your eyes pain flaring where he hit and now holds, your hands flying to his wrist. 

"Something's got it!" Lucy yells gesturing to the water and he grunts. 

"Gulper got it" He says and you see her frown at the word. You hear a soft whine behind you and try to glance back, you hear the pattering of feet and suddenly the dog is by your side. You feel relief flood you that she didn't die from the man's stab. He hums and lets go of your hair before he's struggling with Lucy and tying her up. The dog by your side licks your face as you try to stand and fail as your world spins. You groan holding the back of your head and feeling wetness you bring your hand back in front of you, redness coating it, you gulp a bit thinking you might be sick. 

"Sir, please stop!" You hear Lucy yell and it makes your head pound as you watch her get tied with rope, an anchor attached to her. 

"Stop" You barely get out going to stand but his gun points to you. 

"Stay there" His voice has this tone and every fibre in your being practically whines and submits to it. You fight an inward battle as he ties Lucy to the winch mechanism. He forces her to submerge, her body just on the surface and all you can do is whimper. He pulls her up and she coughs and gasps for breaths. 

"Sir, Torture is wrong!" She yells and he hums. 

"You know I read about it once, Torture, in one of them newspaper studies" He lowers her back into the water glancing at you briefly before bringing her back up. 

"You're right it is wrong and it doesn't do shit, but I ain't torturing you, you're bait," He says finale and lowers her back in, going to the edge and whistling. The noise feels like electric shots through your brain and you lower your head curling in on yourself, still on your knees. You hate how you can't move, hate the pointed look he gives you when you try too. You see Lucy start thrashing and panic rises in you, something jolts the rope and you see him start to pull her up only for the mechanism to stick. 

"Damn it" He mutters and pulls the beam over pulling her and this 'Gulper' out. The dog starts barking and Lucy is yelling while the man stabs the creature. Lucy manages to free herself of the ropes, the Gulper going for her boot instead, you move now finding yourself ignoring the command he gave and grabbing her. You tug her as she whacks the creature over the head with some bags. It winces and returns to the water while you drag Lucy to safety. She pants loudly, hands gripping your shoulders before she gently cradles your head, seeing the blood. 

"Mother fucker!" You hear before his gun is cocked to you both again. 

"What! I wasn't going to let you use me as bait and get eaten! The golden rule" She yells at the alpha. 

"Golden rule?" He questions. 

"Do unto them with you want done unto you!" She huffs out a breath.

You hear him mumble to himself before he growls, grabs a rope and snags it around Lucy's neck. 

"Stop!" You yell before he's got the rope going around your neck also. 

“Wastelands got its own golden rule” he snaps.

“What?” Lucy huffs out.

“Thou shall get distracted by bullshit every time”

"Move" He growls at you both, soon enough he's dragging you both across the wasteland. 

Next part ->

[publickoccurances]

Headcanon: Companions on a night out with Sole at The Third Rail (romanced and just friends).

Cait: Cait spends the night doing shot after shot, between each she’ll have a pint of whatever is on tap. Usually some musky beer that is no ones business to be drinking. But it’s cheap and gets you pissed so why the hell not! She acts as Sole’s wingman, trying to get her buddy laid any opportunity she gets. Hell she might even get herself some action. Though that opportunity goes straight out the window as she’s being escorted out by Ham and ten guys from the Neighbourhood Watch. All because she broke some guys hand after he grabbed her arse? Sole tries to sweet talk Ham into letting Cait back in but when that fails ‘Fuck it! Screw ya shitty boozer! Come on Sole, I know a party we can crash!’ And of course, this so called party will be in fact crashing into some random persons hotel room and inviting the rest of the guests in for a drink/drug fuelled night.

Cait (romanced): Now Cait sometimes misses the single life when her and Sole find their way inside The Third Rail of an evening. But all it takes is a few drinks and to find herself staring at that perky arse of theirs and she’s game for the night. She’ll spend the night having a good few drinks, laughing as Sole tries to keep up with her. She had always warned them that you should never try and keep up with an Irish. It never works. But she always stops them before they take it too far. Because how are they gonna have their fun in the alley at the end of the night if Sole can’t even stand up?

Codsworth: Ah yes, The Third Rail. Not Codsworth’s place of choice. Yes he’d much prefer they spend the evening at somewhere with... well somewhere a little bit cleaner perhaps? But Sir/Mum wish to spend the evening socialising in this... quaint?... bar. Then Codsworth would certainly try his best to be positive! Though, the comments from Whitechapel Charlie were not helping. Somehow being called as soft as buttered scone does somewhat dampen ones spirits.

Curie (for the sake of it Synths can get drunk): Curie was always up for experiencing different human social interactions. A very popular one seemed to be going to an establishment and consuming a beverage which was actually poison to the human body? So she shall try! It doesn’t take many drinks for the buzz of the alcohol to go to her head. And before anyone knew it she was prancing around the place befriending the many drifters that were dotted about. Even offering some free medical advise if she liked them well enough! Of course Sole had to keep a close eye on her. They would feel extremely guilty if anything were to happen to Curie while drunk. Though in the moment Curie didn’t quite understand why her friend was trying to stop her from dancing on top of the table?

Curie (romanced): It was a different story when Curie had her loved one to keep an eye on while in this rowdy establishment. She would stick to non-alcoholic beverages for the evening. She just wanted to make sure Sole was safe and well. Though it did make her giggle at how affectionate Sole would get after a few drinks. She couldn’t complain about the gentle kisses pressed to her cheek, nor the sweet nothings whispered in her ear. No, she was quite smitten on her tipsy lover. But no sex while under the influence of alcohol, she would stick to her guns with that. She was far too responsible.

Danse: The Paladin was not one for letting himself loosen up. Not even for an evening. So when his good friend drags him into The Third Rail he is none to impressed with the state of the place, nor the people in it. He sticks strictly to water for the evening. Keeps interaction with the patrons to a minimum. Though he can’t help but be ever so slightly mesmerised by Magnolia as she sings her set for the night. Now she was quality entertainment. And easy on the eyes. But despite the encouragement from Sole, he would stick to his seat and not approach her. But the thought would cross his mind more than once.

Danse (romanced): It would take many days of Sole pestering him before Danse would agree to a night out in The Third Rail. When there he is extremely defensive of Sole, shooting a look that could kill at any patron he thinks may be showing any kind of interest in his lover. Half way through the night it would become too hard for him to hide his jealously anymore. So he would take Sole firmly by the hand and march them back to wherever it is they have decided to spend the night. And Sole of course knew this was exactly how the night would end, that’s why they made a point of being a bit flirtatious with strangers. They loved how it would wind up Danse, and how it would result in their cheek pressed firmly against the mattress more than a few times for the remainder of the night.

Deacon: Deacon was no stranger to The Third Rail. Oh yes. He’d spent many a good night in this place. It was definitely a good thing that a few of the regular patrons were no longer able to recognise him. Though it didn’t stop him from trying to seduce them all over again. What? It was in his nature! Part of who he was! Or that’s what he was trying to tell the disgruntled ex-lover who actually did see past his disguise this time. He walks back over to Sole, stupid grin on his lips despite the fact he’d just been splashed with a glass of vodka. “Yeah. Maybe we should head somewhere with fewer people that have seen little Deacon.” He’d joke. However, maybe it would be best if they hit another joint for the night.

Deacon (romanced): Oh a night with Deacon would end up a blur. The amount of times he would suggest body shots was terrible. But the amount of times Sole agreed to do them was even worse. Eventually Ham would have to kick the two of them out for essentially being naked in the middle of the bar. Not that it bothered Deacon, because he swiped a bottle of whiskey on the way out and he intended on them drinking it, even if they did end up on the curb for the night.

Hancock: Of course the Mayor of Goodneighbour would know The Third Rail well. He and Whitechapel Charlie were good ‘mates’ at this point. Which meant free drinks for Hancock. Which meant free drinks for everyone because he was the mayor of this damn town! Fuelled by a mixture of drinks and chems Hancock would keep the party going until the sun rises. And by the time the sun did rise, he was far too gone to realise and so the party would carry on right into the next evening. It wouldn’t be until he finally passed out of exhaustion that the party would end. And god damm, where the hell did he leave his hat???

Hancock (romanced): Goodneigbour was his town. So as far as he was concerned, The Third Rail was Hancock’s fine establishment. And that meant it was Soles fine establishment. So when he ordered everyone to leave so he and Sole could have the dance floor to themselves for Magnolias set, that meant everybody would leave. And the couple would spend the night being surprisingly tender, dancing slowly to the music.

Macready: Macready had spent so much time in this damn bar he was over it. Every night out he had there Sole would be pulling him off some cocky Gunner who had come in running their mouth. Whitechapel Charlie wasn’t exactly a fan of the Gunners himself, so he never called Ham down to break up the fights. In fact he would sneak Macready a free drink for the entertainment. To which Macready would tilt his hat and let out an accomplished sign. Ah yes, what a life.

Macready (romanced): Macready is a bit more easy going when out drinking with his lover. Though sometimes when he looks at Sole (usually after a few glasses of whiskey) he’ll tear up ever so slightly. Though he would never say it, it’s because Sole has the same eyes as Lucy. Kind eyes. Eyes filled with hope. And damn did it make him emotional. But this moment of weakness never lasted long, he’d usually excuse himself for a cigarette when it gets too intense.

Nick (again for the sake of it Synths can get drunk): It had been a long time since Nick had allowed himself to have some fun. Work as a private eye was demanding. And god did he know it. He was still as mysterious as ever when he had a scotch in his hand. Swirling the liquid around the glass ever so slightly as his eyes scanned the room, hat tilted. Life was good right now, quiet. He liked it when things were quiet.

Nick (romanced): Now Ol’ Nicky wasn’t one for public displays of affection usually. But when the clock struck midnight and there were a few glasses of scotch in the system, how could he not admire his lover? Nick was smooth in the way he spoke to Sole, poetic almost. He liked to keep up his mysterious detective bravado even with his love. Though Sole saw straight through it. And when Sole stole his fedora at the end of the night, Nick just lets them. Hell, that’s love right there surely?

Piper: Piper loved The Third Rail. It was the easiest place to get people to talk for the paper. A few drinks made everyone loose lipped. Including herself. It took three or four vodkas mixed with Nuka Cola for Piper to be stumbling over her words as she tried to compliment Magnolia. God damn it, why couldn’t she just ask her if she wanted a drink?? Every single time she came in here she tried, and every single time she bottled it at the last minute. But all the embarrassment was forgotten when she’d look over and see her best buddy Blue challenging a local to a drinking competition. Well she had to watch this. ‘I’m gonna put twenty caps on the other guy!’ She’d shout as she walked over. ‘Sorry Blue... but look at the size of him. I reckon he can handle his liquor better than you’.

Piper (romanced): Piper really was one for letting herself go all out when on a night out with her Blue. She knew she didn’t have to worry. Blue would keep her safe, and she’d make sure they were safe. And god she just loved the way they looked as they danced to the music playing. Damn it they just looked so good in that dumb vault suit. She’d of course join her lover in the dancing. And drunken dancing always resulted in drunken kissing, which always resulted in drunken touching, which always resulted in them stumbling back into their hotel room for the night. She loved the way her back would hit the mattress as Blue would kiss all over her. It was the best way to end the night for sure.

Preston: Preston was more of a sophisticated drinker. Being a Minuteman was a 24/7 job. Despite whether he wanted to or not, he knew very well that he couldn’t get wasted every time Sole convinced him to accompany them at The Third Rail. He’d always limit himself to a glass of wine, keeping an eye on his friend. Preston would always make sure to wonder up the stairs every half hour and check in with Ham to make sure no flares had been set off in close proximity. To which Ham would always reply ‘we’re in Goodneighbour pal, you really think these folks are gonna be asking for help from you lot?’

Preston (romanced): God damn a drunken Sole would stress Preston out. He found himself repeating ‘drink water for the love of all that is holy’ at least five times an hour. But despite how fed he sounded, he actually quite enjoyed looking after his drunken lover. After all, it made him feel rather manly when he’d have to carry Sole to bed at the end of the night. And he always knew he could have his fun when the hangover would hit Sole the next morning, he thoroughly enjoyed teasing his hungover lover.

[nanoland]

Ponder on the Narrow House

fandom: Lucifer

main characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve/Michael 

summary: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet. 

warnings: Violence, gun violence, trauma, dehumanization, outdoor sex. 

0 

In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.

She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.

Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.

Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.

Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.

“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?” 

She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.

When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”

He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”

Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”

His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’

“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”

“They’re afraid of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”

She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”

Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”

“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”

“A… job.”

“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”

He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.

“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”

She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”

“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.” 

0 

“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.

“Doesn’t have a soul?”

A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”

Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”

“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.

“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.

“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”

He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.

But he was tired.

Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”

“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”

She pushed him into the sea.

Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.”

0 

It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.

“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”

Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”

“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”

Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”

Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”

“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”

“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”

“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”

Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”

“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”

“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.

His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”

“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.

“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”

Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”

Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”

“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?” 

0 

“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.

“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”

(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)

“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”

To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.

“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”

She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.

He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”

“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”

“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”

“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”

“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”

She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”

“No.”

“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”

For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.

But he was tired, tired, tired.

“Here.”

He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”

As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep. 

0

It was night when he awoke.  

He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.

“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.

“It’s freezing,” he complained.

She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”

They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.

He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”

“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”

Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”

When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?” 

0 

Along the California coastline, the cruise ship Illustrious Voyager bore four thousand three hundred and ten passengers, one thousand two hundred and ninety-six crewmembers, and two guide dogs.

Five thousand six hundred and eight souls, in total.

At around 4pm, without anyone noticing, that number became five thousand six hundred and nine.

Hands clasped behind her back, Eve strolled down the promenade, admiring the vessel’s size and beauty. This fresh new millennium’s wealth astonished her. Sickened, sometimes. Entranced, sometimes. But always astonished.

Back in the garden, they’d slept on and under rocks. When it rained, they got wet. When large animals came by, they hid. No weapons. No shelter. No blankets. The only resource they’d had in abundance was food. Good grief – so much food. God had been so proud of all the different fruits and nuts and mushrooms he’d made available to them, and Adam had been so grateful. Eve supposed she had been, too.

It hadn’t stopped her from one day approaching her husband and the plump rabbits resting in his lap – two of several dozen pets – and asking if he didn’t think the cold nights would be much more endurable if they each had a warm pair of fur slippers.

Then she’d met Lucifer. Fallen in love. Bitten the apple. Learned how powerful he and his Father truly were. That was when the real questions, the sticky, prickly questions, had come bubbling up.

If Lucifer has such a vast family, with so many siblings, why can’t I have even one? she’d asked the sky. Why is Adam all I get?

And later: If You can simply bring people into existence, why must I scream and bleed and shit myself in order to have children? Am I doing it wrong? Is there another way? If there isn’t, why not?

And later: Why is nothing fair?

And, most recently, after meeting Mazikeen: Why isn’t everything at least equally unfair? Why do humans get a world of options while Maze and her family are expected to serve angels from birth to death? Why isn’t Maze allowed into Heaven, even after an eternity of loyalty and hard work?

“Sorry,” she said, flashing white teeth at a passing crewmember. “I’m trying to find a friend of mine. Can you tell me how to get to Room 835?”

Half an hour later, there was a splash and the ship’s population dropped to five thousand six hundred and seven.

Before binding his arms and legs, Eve had secured Andrew Bismarck’s lifejacket and gagged him. Furious and helpless, he bobbed alongside her as the ship moved on and Mazikeen rowed up in her inflatable raft, wearing a sunset-orange swimsuit.

“Should I be worried about those, babe?” she asked as she gripped Bismarck’s lifejacket and hauled him out of the water.

Eve smiled at the dolphin pod swimming in playful loops around her, and patted the nearest one’s nose. “No. They’re my friends.”

The inflatable wasn’t big enough for three people, so Eve held on to a friend’s dorsal fin and let him drag her back to The Choronzon.

Michael stood on the deck, looking bored. As they climbed aboard, their prisoner slung over Mazikeen’s shoulder, he drawled, “Seriously? This sad specimen’s worth two million dollars?”

“Actually, his net worth is eight hundred million,” said Mazikeen, dumping him down. “Two million is just what his ex-wife is willing and able to pay.”

Wringing out her hair, Eve added, “She took half his money in the divorce but she gave almost all of it to a chimpanzee shelter. I really like her!”

His lip curled. “How delightfully sordid. Isn’t this all a little beneath you, Ms Mazikeen? I mean, you’re a big deal in Hell. High Commander of Lucifer’s legions, head advisor to the king himself. Aren’t you worried taking jobs like this diminishes you?”

Busy handcuffing Bismarck to the railing, Mazikeen said, “Eve, honey? Do me a favour?”

“Boop!” Eve chirped, having already snuck up behind Michael, and pushed him overboard.

“I know it’s your whole gimmick,” Mazikeen called down as he splashed and spluttered, his face red with princely indignation. “And I know you don’t have a lot else going for you. But the next time you try that on me, I will stop being nice. Kapish?”

“Kapish,” he muttered.

The Choronzon had barely travelled a mile before Eve spotted Bismarck’s henchmen coming after them.

“Someone gimme details!” shouted Mazikeen, busy putting a bulletproof vest on over her bikini and opening up the box she’d told Dan contained a fishing rod, not a halberd.

Eve peered through her binoculars. “Two speedboats. Twelve guys on jet skis. Guns everywhere.”

“Heh. Awesome. Mickey – move that tight ass to the front and make like a nice juicy target.”

“Wait, what about-…” Michael began, trailing off as Mazikeen dove gracefully into the sea.

Bouncing from foot to foot, Eve shot him a grin. “Don’t look so glum, sourpuss. This is the fun part.”

She’d never spoken to Michael in Heaven, despite the millennia they’d both resided only two miles apart, her in a lakeside cottage on the outskirts of the Silver City, him in the crystal palace in its centre.

Granted, she’d not exactly had a warm and fuzzy relationship with any of Lucifer’s siblings. They all knew what had happened in the garden. Some had been nice – Amenadiel had visited often, even though he’d never had much to say and they’d spent their time together skipping stones across the lake’s surface. But the others had kept her at a distance. She was a bad influence.

Michael, however, was the only angel she’d not ever said one word to.

She’d seen him, now and then, in the early days, when she was the only human in Heaven and, as such, grudgingly invited to divine family get-togethers. On those occasions, she’d spent too much time feeling awkward and out-of-place to pay attention to the sullen figure lurking in whatever shadows were available. The one time she’d glanced his way, it had been to marvel at the stories of people getting the twins mixed up; beyond the raw basics of bone structure, Michael couldn’t have looked less like her old lover.

Bullets sprayed across the hull. Humming, Eve stepped daintily into Michael’s shadow, seconds before they started bouncing off his shoulders and chest.

“It is beneath her,” he muttered.

She made an ambiguous noise. “How d’you figure?”

There came a shout and a splash from the nearest jet ski. The bullets stopped.

“C’mon. She’s Mazikeen. Everyone in the Silver City knows about Mazikeen. Ordinarily, we couldn’t give two dry shits about Lucifer’s minions, but her? She’s a minor celebrity. The power behind Hell’s throne. Christ, it’s no secret my beloved twin couldn’t govern his way out of a paper bag.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling fondly. “He’s kind of bad at everything. Except music. He’s a great musician.”

More shouting. More shooting. More bullets bouncing off Michael’s torso. Mazikeen rode by, one hand gripping her newly-acquired jet ski’s throttle lever, the other clutching her bloodstained halberd. Watching her circle the enemy, Eve was reminded of a sheep dog.

Michael went on: “And then there’s the fact that for a while, everyone thought Lucifer was going to marry her. It was all anyone could talk about. Jophiel was taking bets on when the proposal would happen. She’d have been High Commander and the Queen of Hell. Instead? All of a sudden, Lucifer takes an indefinite vacay to the mortal realm, drags her with him, and next thing anyone knows, she’s working behind a bar.”

The remaining jet skis and their terrified, wounded riders had been neatly rounded up, which meant it was time for Eve to open her purse.

“Um – how long have those been in there?” asked Michael, watching her take out three grenades.

“You want one?” she offered. “Don’t forget to take the pin out before you throw it. I did that my first time.”  

One thing to be said for millions of dull, dull years spent sitting next to God’s Greatest Warrior, skipping stones across a lake; your aim got good.

The first blast was a warning, not close enough to actually kill any of Bismarck’s men, though the resultant waves did knock several into the water. They tried to retreat, turning their vehicles around, only to remember Mazikeen, corralling them single-handed and now armed with machine guns she’d confiscated from those already bested.

When they saw the second and third grenade incoming, they gave up and abandoned the jet skis, jumping into the sea and swimming for their lives.

“Fuck!” Michael yelped, blocking his ears at the concomitant explosions.

Gazing past the debris and smoke, Eve saw Mazikeen head for the nearest of the two speedboats. Its occupants, preoccupied with aiming a rocket launcher at The Choronzon, saw her coming far too late.

“I get your point,” said Eve, as her girlfriend and her halberd made short work of the crew. “But that’s a really… how can I put this? It’s a really angelic way of looking at things. Maze doesn’t consider anything ‘beneath her’.”

“Wow. Sick burn. You’re basically admitting she has no pride.”

“Oh, she’s got pride. Tons of pride. Her pride’s just dependant on how well she does a job, not on the type of job she has. She wasn’t happy working at Lux, but that wasn’t because she thought bartending was ‘beneath her’; it was because she prefers doing things she’s good at. Customer service isn’t really one of her strengths.”

The second speedboat was abandoned by its crew mere seconds before Mazikeen rammed the first speedboat into it, cackling victoriously.

“Actually,” Eve said, moving from Michael’s shadow to where Mazikeen had earlier set a crate of peach soda – her favourite – out on the deck, “now that you mention it, I guess I’m the one with no pride. Haven’t really ever had anything to be proud of. Your Dad never gave me the chance. I was never meant to do things. I was just meant to be.”

Michael snorted. “Lucky you. Trust me; he may have softened in his later years, but back in the day he never, ever stopped riding our asses. You think Lucy really rebelled because he had better plans for how the universe should be run? Because he was an innovator? Nope. Lazy dick just hated being told to do his chores.”

By the time Mazikeen swam back to them, saltwater had washed off the blood and her ponytail had come loose.

“Oh, hey,” said Eve, gripping her hand and pulling her up. “A mermaid.”

After pressing a rough kiss to her cheek and taking a swig of peach soda, Mazikeen asked, “You okay? He did his job?”

Eve patted the angel’s shoulder – the one that wouldn’t hurt. “He was terrific! Awesome addition to the team.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Michael mumbled.

Ignoring him, Mazikeen snatched up a towel to dry her hair. “Glad to hear it. Alright! Let’s get Bismarck back to shore, get paid, and find a place to have dinner so we can toast Team Hellrazor’s first successful mission.”

“R-A-Z-O-R,” Eve informed Michael. “To make it cooler.” 

0 

Bombshell curls. The only way to celebrate victory.

“Should I even ask why your hair smells like burning plastic?” asked Britney, a sixty-four year old veteran stylist with spectacles and a bright blue bob. She’d worked in Hollywood since she was seventeen and her skilled hands, according to rumour, had tended to Viola Davis herself.

Mazikeen flipped through a magazine with the hand that wasn’t getting its nails painted red-gold by two assistants down on their knees, as intensely focused as if they were touching up The Last Supper. “Blew up some jet skis. Don’t worry about it.”

Picking up the curling iron, Britney said, “That handsome guy you and Eve came in with… new boyfriend?”

“Ha! No. Not in a million years. He’s my intern.”

Eve had only wanted a trim and, as soon as it was done, had dragged Michael away to shop for books and shoes. She was trying, without much subtlety, to work out what he liked; what he did for fun; if he was even capable of having fun. Waste of time, in Mazikeen’s opinion, especially considering that before the end of the week he’d probably run away to some dark hole where he could get back to wallowing in his bitterness. But maybe not. Eve clearly had hope and Mazikeen trusted her judgement.

As the assistants moved on to her other hand, her phone buzzed.

Glancing up to meet Britney’s gaze in the mirror, Mazikeen said, “Get that for me? My nails are wet and it’s probably Eve. Word’s got out what happens to all other humans who call me on a Saturday.”

The older woman’s blue eyebrows bounced as she picked up the phone. “Might be that tasty boss of yours!”

“Nope,” she muttered, old unhappiness flaring hot in her heart. “He only ever calls when he wants me to do something and right now, there’s nothing he can’t do himself.”

Britney held the phone up in front of her face.

There was a message from Linda.

Charlie’s missing his Auntie Maze – see u for dinner Tuesday? J <3

“Uh – are you crying?” asked Britney.

“No!” she snapped. “Just… shut up. Reply for me. Say yes. And add a knife emoji. I always use knife emojis.”

Just then, a white woman with long brown hair and skinny jeans strode purposefully into the salon.

Britney tutted and held up a hand. “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but Ms Smith has booked the entire…”

She trailed off as the woman’s eyes flashed red.

“Chantinelle,” Mazikeen greeted, spinning the chair round and crossing her legs regally. “It’s okay, Britney. She’s a friend. Well – an ally.”

Gravel-voiced, like she smoked heavily, the other demon drawled, “I’m touched, your great and gracious Majesty.”

Mazikeen snickered. “Bitch, get over here.”

With a smirk, Chantinelle marched over and planted a fierce kiss on her cheek.

“What news from Hell?” Mazikeen asked her sister.

Chantinelle briefed her while Britney and the others finished up her curls and manicure. They spoke in Lilim, Chantinelle parking her denim-clad butt on the vanity next to an arsenal of combs and keeping one eye on the door. She’d already tried twice to convince Mazikeen that a queen needed a bodyguard, to no avail.

When their meeting was concluded, Britney said, “So you’re from Holland, right? Oh! It’s a lovely country. My cousin lives there and she’s always telling me to visit.”

(Britney knew they weren’t from Holland. Britney knew they weren’t from Earth. Britney was one of those people who coped with uncomfortable realities like demons in her workplace by ignoring them.)

“Will you be coming home soon?” Chantinelle asked before she left.

Studying her reflection – avoiding her sister’s gaze – Mazikeen said, “Mmm. Yeah. Soon. Just got a few things to finish up here.”

“Well, don’t keep us waiting too long. The family misses you. I mean – it’s been years, y’know?”

“I know. I do.”

“I didn’t know you had a family,” Britney commented after Chantinelle had gone. “How come you never talk about them?”

Mazikeen handed over a wad of blood-spattered cash. “Eh. After a while, I figured out that nobody likes it when I do.”

She began making her way across the mall to Eve’s favourite shoe shop, then stopped when she approached the arcade and heard her girlfriend’s laugh over the beeps and buzzes of various games.

Unsurprised, she wandered in and found her on the Dance Dance Revolution platform, barefoot and skirt twirling as she beat the shit out of someone’s high score, surrounded by a crowd of cheering, applauding onlookers.

Michael stood off to the side, clutching three bulging shopping bags and looking mortified.

“I couldn’t stop her,” he hissed to Mazikeen. “What the hell? What the actual hell? I thought you were trying to maintain a reputation on this crummy rock! What’re your enemies going to think if this is how your allies behave in public?”

“I figure they’ll think something like, ‘Oh my God, she’s tapping that? I am going to literally die of jealousy’,” Mazikeen said, kicking off her stilettos and handing them to him. “Go fetch us some bottled water, wimp. We’ll be here for a while.”

Eve’s competitor on the adjacent platform yelped as Mazikeen shoved him off and took his place.

“Hi, pretty lady,” said Eve, her eyes sparkling. “You know I’ve been dancing for millions of years, right?”

Mazikeen grinned at her and tossed back her bombshell curls. “Bring it, beautiful.”  

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Michael blush bright red. 

0 

What was he doing here?

“We are fifteen miles over the speed limit!”

Mazikeen cackled and drove faster. In the seat beside her, Eve punched the air and turned up the radio until Michael thought Rihanna’s voice would burst even his divine eardrums. (Contrary to his brother’s accusations, he did, in fact, enjoy some types of music. Just not when it was loud or fast-paced.)

“May I remind you of a crucial fact?” he demanded, having to shout to be heard. “It’s not me who’ll die if this thing flips! Angel, remember? You two are the ones who’ll be splattered all over the road! Hello? Is anybody listening to me?”

“I’m a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine,” Mazikeen sang.

The desert outside the cherry-red convertible they’d stolen in Las Vegas was a sickening blur and he hated it. Not that he’d never travelled this fast – though he was slower than just about all his siblings in the air, he could still outpace a jet. But flying under his own power couldn’t be compared to being trapped in this hideous human death trap under the command of a demon and a madwoman.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, this time to himself, gripping his seatbelt with both hands like it was the neck of an angry serpent. “Whatever happens. Even if we crash. They’ll die. I’ll be fine.”

“Hey!” called Eve, turning to look at him, squinting. “Are you really not having fun? Maze! Slow down! He’s not having fun.”

Mazikeen groaned but brought them back to a less terrifying percentage of light speed, while Eve undid her seatbelt and climbed into the back with Michael.

He sputtered. “Jesus H. Christ – you’re not supposed to do that while the vehicle is moving. Rules exist for a reason, goddammit.”

“I’m sorry we freaked you out,” Eve told him, with… confusing sincerity.

None of his siblings had ever apologised for frightening him, Lucifer least of all (“Aww – don’t be so nervous, brother!” and a golden laugh from the brave, adventurous Morningstar after he’d enticed Michael to fly with him into a hurricane for fun and the noise and sight of it had made his twin cry).

When Michael was young, he’d assumed that was because apologies were for lesser beings, like mortals – except that when he’d discovered his latent talent for underhanded pranks, his siblings had all turned around and demanded apologies from him. The pranks had become progressively mean-spirited after that.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop – for the punchline – he said, carefully, “It’s fine.”

The wind had blown Eve’s hair all over the place. As she brushed it out of her eyes, he was reminded that today she’d chosen to wear one of her thin white summer dresses, this one low-cut enough to make it clear that that was all she was wearing.

Now mischievous, she winked at him. “But you know… if I made a habit of following those rules you like so much, I’d still be married and bored out of my mind. Wanna kiss?”

He nearly jumped out of the car.

“Uh,” he croaked.

His gaze flickered past Eve’s inquisitive face to the back of Mazikeen’s head. How long did he have? How many milliseconds left before she turned around and tore out his throat in a fit of frenzied jealousy?

“Hell, yeah!” Mazikeen cheered, throwing up the horns. “One of you take a picture for me. Or, better yet, move over so I can see you in the rear view mirror.”

Eve’s chin tilted downwards as she examined Michael. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem like he’s into it. Er – yikes. Actually, I think he’s gonna throw up. Might wanna pull over, babe.”

“I’m not going to throw up! I just need… just need air. Could you sit back for a moment?” he hissed.

She did so and he got his breathing under control. Crap, his shoulder hurt so much today.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, fidgeting. “I didn’t mean to-…”

“Is this because of him?” Michael snarled, suddenly furious.

“What?”

“Him! Lucifer! He dumped you, yeah? And now you’re – what, trying to get back at him by hitting on me? Or is it just because I look like him so I’m the best substitute you can get, or-…”

She slapped him.

It hurt.

(It really did. What? Since when did getting hit by mortals hurt?)

Mazikeen whistled approvingly.

“No,” said Eve, half-growling. “I’m not like that. I don’t use people like that, Michael.”

He touched the part of his face where her skin had met his. It felt hot. Tingly. He swallowed. “Um – right. Got it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

The anger in her eyes subsided. “Good. Now, would you like to kiss me or not? It’s fine if you don’t want to. You’ll still be part of the team. This is just for fun.”

Feeling oafish and off-kilter, he gestured at Mazikeen. “Won’t she mind?”

“Nope!” Mazikeen volunteered without hesitation.

Eve, exasperated, huffed, “I already asked her if she’d mind. Do you really think I’d put the offer on the table if I hadn’t? Whatever they say about me in the Silver City, I’m neither frivolous nor disloyal. I didn’t go behind Adam’s back when I fell in love with your brother; I told him to his face what I was doing.”

“Oh. Didn’t know that.”

“Because he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t care. Adam was a decent man who didn’t love me at all. But Maze does, and I love her, and we’ve decided this is something we’re both okay with.”

“Yeah, most demons are poly,” Mazikeen told him. “As long as everyone’s on board and on the same page, you can hook up with whoever you like.”

“Last chance: kiss or no kiss?” said Eve.

She was close enough now for him to smell her perfume. His chest felt tight. “I don’t like ultimatums.”

“Okay. How about wagers? I bet you anything I’m the best kisser you’ve ever met. Or requests? Please, please kiss me, Michael. Or-…”

She was so warm. Her breath flowing into his mouth felt like drinking hot chocolate on a Winter’s night, sugary heat poured down his throat and filling up his whole chest.

His bones seemed to melt. He slid down the seat, half-pushed, until he lay almost flat with her on top of him, cradling his face in her hands, her thumbs making slow, comforting circles on his jaw.

“Ghnnff-fu-fuck,” he slurred.

That he was hard, and had been hard ever since he’d noticed how low-cut her dress was, seemed almost irrelevant in the face of far more interesting observations, like the soft grunts she made or the way her breasts felt pressed tight against him, until she slid a thigh between his legs.

He cried out. Arched.

“There you go,” she purred against his neck.

Elegant and effortless, she took off her shoes and her panties, and slid down onto his cock with a soft, fluttering sigh. Grabbed his hand and raised it to cover one of her nipples.

Just before he came, he opened his eyes and gazed up, and the sun had moved behind her, draining all but her edges of definition, and the wind had picked up her hair again and sent it billowing up and out, like dark wings. Like his wings.

“Michael! Ah!”

The car stopped.

“Huh,” said Mazikeen. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

She pointed. Panting, they both followed her finger.

Across the sky, from one horizon to the next, the clouds had arranged themselves into the words

I LOVE YOU DETECTIVE !!!!

-LM

“Oh, crud,” said Eve. 

0 

Fuck the next bounty.

After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.

Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.

Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.

She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”

Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”

“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.

He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.

“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”

Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”

“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”

Michael was snickering.

“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”

“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”

Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”

“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.

Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”

Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.

She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”

“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”

Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”

“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”

“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”

Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.

Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”

“Who?”

“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”

Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”

“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”

“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”

“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”

“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.

Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”

“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”

Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”

Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”

“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.

Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?” 

0 

He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.

“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”

“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”

“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”

He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”

Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.

Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”

He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.

“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.

Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.

“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”

Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”

He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).

Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”

“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”

Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.

“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”

“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”

Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”

“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”

Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”

Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”

“No.”

He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”

“We won’t rampage. We just-…”

“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”

He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”

Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”

Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”

“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”

“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”

“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”

“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”

“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.

“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”

Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”

“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”  

He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.

To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.

Where Mazikeen was crying.

No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.

Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.

He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.

“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”

“Don’t touch me.”

It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.

Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.

Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.

The elevator closed.

“What have I done?” he asked Linda. 

0  

Nothing I didn’t know.

“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.

The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.

“Maze! Wait!”

Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.

“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.

The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.

Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.

Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.

“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.

That was what cracked her.

To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.

I’m just incapable of earning his.

Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.

Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.

Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.

“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”

“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”

“We obeyed!”

“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”

She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”

Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”

Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.

Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”

Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”

She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”

“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.

Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”

“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”

“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”

Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”

TO BE CONTINUED

[sgtbradfords]

Please could you write a Chenford prompt with this: “Who were you with?”. Thank you! 💖

Thank you for the prompt hon! I hope this does what you requested some justice! It almost stumped me, but then I had an idea about the future and well lord knows my muse had enough fun with it then. ;) Enjoy!

Captain Tim and Lieutenant Lucy Bradford had both turned in for the night, laying in their king-sized bed, talking off and on about things they had heard throughout the day at the department as Tim read the book in his hand, Lucy reading something on her phone.

“He’s going to be late.” She mumbled, noticing the time.

Tim never looked up, turning the page in his book. “He won’t be late.”

“Admit it, he’s going to be late and you can finally pay up.”

Tim looked over at the clock on the nightstand. “He’ll cut it close but he won’t be late, he’s never been late a day in his life.”

“No, because he’s your son. But you may as well pay up now Bradford, he has less than two minutes.”

“Only when he walks through the door at 23:01 Bradford, will you be getting any form of payment.”

The clock hit 10:59 and Lucy began counting down the seconds in her head, making it to twenty-three seconds left when the sound of a thud, something heavy hitting the ground echoed through the house.

They both jolted, Tim’s right hand and Lucy’s left reaching for their guns in the nightstands before thinking better of it.

Heavy footsteps sounded as the person climbed the stairs, stepping on the eighth step, the wood creaking under the pressure as it always had over the past twenty years.

“You ok?” Lucy asked, arching an eyebrow as the person walked into their room. “Just learning to walk?”

“I’m fine, tripped over my feet.” He said, carefully falling onto his stomach on the bed, burying his face into the comforter.

“Did you lock up?”

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he lifted his head. “Yes dad.”

“Did you turn off the lights?”

“I think?” he said after a second “I’ll check before I head to bed.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose as a smell assaulted her senses, “Larson Wade Bradford. Did you not shower after the game?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you use soap? Because you smell like a locker room.”

“Yes mom. You can smell test me if you want.” The teen said as he stuck an arm out.

“I’d prefer not to.” She told him, pressing his arm back down. “Just shower again before bed.”

“You done good tonight. That hit in the third looked brutal, you feeling ok?” Tim asked, placing his book to the side, taking off his reading glasses.

“Conners checked me out and said I was good to go but I swear that linesman hit me right in the lung, knocked the breath out of me. I’m sore, and my head hurts a little.” He shrugged.

“Let me see.” Tim said as he got up from the bed, moving next to his son.

Larson lifted his shirt, the left side of his skin black and blue as Tim began pressing on his side, Larson wincing when it became painful.

“Shit!” he cursed before gritting his teeth.

“Nothing’s broken.”

Lucy cringed at the sight of his marred skin as she got out of the bed, moving to the bathroom, searching the drawers for what she was looking for. She came back, two small white bottles in hand.

“Here, take these.” She said, opening and shaking out two pills into her palm, as he grabbed them and threw them back, dry swallowing. “And put this on after you shower again.”

“Was she this nice to you after you almost died?” joked Larson as he sat back down on the bed.

“Which time?” Tim asked as Lucy lightly slapped his shoulder.

“There’s not been that many.” Lucy told them, rolling her eyes as she climbed back into the bed.

“I was shot on your second day, you flipped the shop, I was infected with a virus, yet another car crash, you were buried alive, another car crash, and how can I ever forget the day you had to ride with Harper and you found that bomb. All within your first year as a boot, sweetheart.”

“You weren’t there for the bomb, I threw the guy out the window.” She smirked. “Besides, look at all the fun we experienced together!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Your mom calls getting stabbed and shot at fun.”

“No, I’m not talking about that!” She said with a look on her face. “We used to have to go undercover together all the time even after my probationary year.”

“Why?”

“Pretty sure Wade shipped it.” Lucy told him simply.

“No one says shipped any more mom.” Said Larson.

“I’m pretty sure half the department shipped it Luce, you know how much money Wesley won from that bet.”

“Uncle Wesley won over like seven hundred dollars, right?”

“Correct, each person had to bet a hundred dollars.”

“A bunch of cops betting for when two people would hook up, who would have thought.” The seventeen-year-old said rolling his eyes.

“Hey! We got nine hundred dollars to put in your college fund from a bet so no complaining. It’s go big or go home.”

“What is a bet going on right now that involves us?”

“There’s the one of whether or not you father will retire with in the next five years.”

“Not happening.” Tim said as he placed his glasses back on, returning to his book.

“That’s what he thinks.” She stage whispered. “You were cutting it close to curfew tonight.”

Larson grimaced as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away, a tell-tale sign he had inherited from his father. “Sorry.”

“Who were you with?”

“Hailey, Tyrell, Jonas, Nyah and Max. We went to the diner on Apex.”

“The one with the smiley face pancakes? And you didn’t invite me?”

“No I didn’t invite you, you’re kinda old mom.”

“I am not, I am forty seven! Forty seven is not old! Your father’s closer to sixty than fifty, if anyone is old it’s him!”

“Leave me out of this Luce. Besides, your daughter already thinks I’m a grandpa.”

“She’s twelve, besides she’s only calling you that because she doesn’t like it when you pick her up from school in the shop.”

“It was one time. When you get a call from the principal asking you to come for a meeting because your child punched someone and broke their nose, it warrants the shop. Besides that was before I knew she had punched another kid for bullying someone. We even went for ice cream! I think she is just calling me a grandpa to spite me.”

“Are we sure she’s not adopted? Because I was an angel at her age.”

They both looked at Larson, giving him a dubious look. “Sure you were and remind me again, who broke the window with a slingshot when they were her age?”

“Don’t forget he called 9-1-1 when he was six because he couldn’t remember a phone number.”

“Why remember a number when it’s programmed in your phone!” he argued.

“Scared me to death when you came flying up the drive, I had no idea what was going on.”

“He hung up the phone! And when I couldn’t get ahold of you, not knowing he hid the phone, I freaked out ok.”

“I know honey.” She said placing a kiss on cheek. “To answer your original question Larson, I know for a fact I spent thirteen hours in labor with her, she is in fact your sister, thank you.”

“She’s just inherited your mother’s rebellious streak a few years early.”

“My rebellious streak? You were the definition of a stereotypical bad boy Mr. Bradford.”

“You would have loved it.” He smirked.

“I find it hard to believe you had a rebellious phase mom.”

“Have you met your grandparents?”

“Good point.” He said as a yawn escaped. “I think I’m going turn in for the night, coach wants us at the field house by nine to review the tape.”

“Night kiddo, love you.”

“Love you guys too.” He said as he sluggishly walked out the door. “Oh, I’m taking Hailey out for lunch so I won’t be home until sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ok, be careful. Text one of us if something changes.” Lucy said as he closed the bedroom door.

“You know, I think we’ve done a pretty good job with him.”

Tim smiled a twinkle in his eye as he placed the glasses and book on the nightstand. “I think we have too. Let’s just hope Angela and Wesley are ok with our son dating their youngest daughter.”

“How much you wanna bet Bradford, that they’ll both be boots by the time they’re twenty-five?” Lucy asked smirking as she walked her fingers up his arm, causing Tim to growl as he tackled his wife to the bed, his bodyweight pinning her to the mattress.

“How much do you wanna bet boot, that they’ll be married to each other by the time they’re twenty-eight?

“Wager the usual?” Lucy asked as Tim began kissing and sucking on her neck, causing her to shiver, even after close to being married for twenty years.

“As long as they don’t give us grandkids within the next ten years, it’s a bet.”

“We haven’t done this while they’ve been home in a while.” She gasped in his ear as his lower half thrusted against her, Lucy pulling down the sweatpants he was wearing. “Think we can still keep quiet and not get caught old man?”

Tim smirked as he reached for the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up as she pulled her upper body off the mattress, placing a thirsty kiss to his mouth before mumbling against his lips. “Guess we’ll find out tomorrow sweetheart.”

[timeguardiansarchive]

@nctafraid​ continued from X

             There’s something unnerving about the placid manner in which her name is expelled from his lips. Darkened orbs hone in on him in disbelief. Did he not know by now that desertion never held any appeal to her? That wherever he went, she would follow? That any entreaty geared towards his abandonment would lead to hurried dissension? Chen’s resolve hardens as does her stance. The rookie’s shoulders square off. Unrefined bravery chisels across her otherwise soft features.                       

“No.” The forcefulness of the resolve emanating from deep inside of her chest surprises even her. Hands drop, instinctively grasping on to her emptied duty belt. Their guns were the first things confiscated. 

She knew, with no uncertainty, by the looks on their captor’s faces that the situation was turning more volatile by the minute. The ability to read people is a hazard from growing up with psychiatrist parents who offered her unsolicited therapy sessions. If she were to blindly obey orders as Bradford wished, this could be the last time she’d see him alive. Wetting her parched lips with her tongue, she tries to find viable excuses as to why she can not accept the proffered freedom. 

Managing to swallow the shallow quiver ensnared by her tonality, she continues. “I... I can’t. I won’t leave you here.” If she were to turn her back on Tim now, she might have to break in a new training officer. That thought is as despicable to her as displays of disloyalty. “Where you go, I go.” If he perished, so too would she. He could not shut her out. Chen refused to have that proverbial door slammed in her face the same way Bradford closed her out after becoming infected with a deadly virus. 

Whether he liked it or not their fates were destined to be intertwined. “There’s no way I’m explaining to Sergeant Grey that I left you behind.” She hisses for his ears only. “It just creates a lot of unnecessary paperwork.” A smug smirk half skittered across her lips for the faintest fraction of a second before disappearing. Paperwork always seemed to be a reasonable excuse. If she deigned to reflect, she swears Bradford had used it on her once or twice in the past.

His assurances, while well intended, settled like cumbersome bricks upon her soul. Lucy tries to dismiss the surge of terror sending her heart into frenzied beats, but it refuses to be ignored. With a spark of inspiration settling behind mocha orbs, Lucy decides that picking fight might be their best distraction. With the quirk of her brow, she goads, “why is it that you always give the orders? What are you? Some antiquated version of ----” She pauses trying her damndest to come up with older macho celebrities. Finally, Chen settles upon, “John Wayne?” Lucy gives him a meaningful look. One that she hopes is properly translated as an opening for a rouse. 

Treading carefully, she starts to align herself with the nearest of the armed guards. With far too much enthusiasm, she draws him into the phony disagreement. Equally as false is the indignation growing in her tone. “He..” she points unabashedly to Tim, “thinks that because I’m a woman, I’m less capable of getting myself out of messes. So, he’s going to play the chivalrous card and come out like a hero.” Blazing eyes bear down on the other man’s. “Why don’t you tell him to stuff it?!” What the gunman doesn’t know is that she is sizing him up for a physical take down.

A sidelong glance is shot at Tim, attempting to discern if he had received her covert divide, distract, and detain message.

[unikornu]

Page 1, Intro

My SS - Lucy, soon Overboss of Nuka World and who knows what else comes for her

Small introduction of Lucy:

She wasn’t particularly powerful looking woman, neither muscular and no amount of cannon carrying could change that. No folk had idea how could she carry that humongous weapon around but if one was to ask her response would be:

- See…it was a gift…and a reminder that if you believe truly in what you want in your life you shall get there and no one will stop you and so i believe this little guy with its impact will also help me with that part and any living obstacle so i don’t care how heavy it is, my faith in it is strong enough to let me carry it around.

To this day she remembers the rusty Capitan of the ship taking an impossible voyage through the skies of Commonwealth despite the attacks and hate of scavengers. Bunch of robots achieved something much higher than that stupid bunch of idiots down there and hell they even knew how to kick some ass in style. Probably the only electronic appliances she will respect to the end of her life.

Broadsider - her special card when enemy thinks she cannot handle them anymore. 

She wasn’t fond of guns as they tend to run out of bullets at some point and cannonballs were heavy and spacey enough at that point. First weapon she decided to master as fast as possible was that bloody big knife she stumbled upon a dead raider that before left her a scar over the eye. Thing looked like regular combat knife but had something brutal in it, spikes and special handle to allow the fastest deadly moves without putting much effort. With her size and grace she could ambush pretty much any unaware enemy on her way. She didn’t have much choice in her approach as anyone bigger would pretty much crack her in half. And where knife won’t reach grenades sure will. Oh she just loved the sound of explosion and the crack sound was filling her heart with enough adrenaline to rush in smoke towards any problem to resolve it with a slash. 

At some point booze also became useful companion, not only to clean a few wounds but to stop her mind from asking stupid questions and with no family and ordinary pre-war life she didn’t care how much and what she was drinking. After all she was done with being used by every Commonwealth folk and being expected to lend a hand everywhere. - How the hell they survived before i came… At one point something broke in her - a line connecting her with a last thread to a life before the explosion. Rules don’t exist, her partner and friends are gone, the fake decoy boy who thought its her son is a chief of Institute and she shall treat him so, like an employer and the only faction out there she believed is actually worth helping as everyone else were just pointing out at them without looking in the mirror to see what destruction and mayhem they cause on their own.

She woke up one night after heavy drinking at the bar of Far Harbor and decided to start anew, but not as a good woman of the old pre war Commonwealth but as a survivor and the only bitch out there to decide for herself without thinking of consequences. If she thought the choice she did was right in her mind for whoever asked her help, hell she was right to the end, no arguing or nagging. She was done lending hand to everyone and expecting that pure gratitude was good enough as a reward in that bloody land. Lazy and comfortable bastards just nagging others to do their job - she was done with that. She wasn’t a bad person after all, just snarky and sarcasm became her most often response to all questions and at this point she simply didn’t care anymore. She was still lacking something in her, a feeling of being and belonging somewhere she could call a community, friends…maybe home and most important - trust that could let her sleep at night. Once she discovered Nuka Station and Harvey’s sobby fake story she knew it is her chance right there - either she dies and that’s it, no more problems or those bloody raiders and their ideas will indeed become her new reality and maybe finally a life she was longing for right now. Raiders, who would think but they are people too, with their own struggles, experiences and they were tough enough to survive on their own without asking for anyone's help. She respected them more at this point than those folks in Commonwealth.

So there she went, with cannon on her back, her knife attached to her leg and cigarette in her mouth and bottle of dirty wastelander in her hand. She finally smiled when Gage’s voice reached her ears and adrenaline started slowly kicking in her. Nuka World was awaiting her arrival….

[artycloudpop]

1hey are u bored at home, wanna chill and netflix....... but just can’t find some thing nice to watch? here’s a list of movies for u watch

A Ghost Story (2017)

Director David Lowery (Pete's Dragon) conceived this dazzling, dreamy meditation on the afterlife during the off-hours on a Disney blockbuster, making the revelations within even more awe-inspiring. After a fatal accident, a musician (Casey Affleck) finds himself as a sheet-draped spirit, wandering the halls of his former home, haunting/longing for his widowed wife (Rooney Mara). With stylistic quirks, enough winks to resist pretension (a scene where Mara devours a pie in one five-minute, uncut take is both tragic and cheeky), and a soundscape culled from the space-time continuum, A Ghost Story connects the dots between romantic love, the places we call home, and time -- a ghost's worst enemy.

Airplane! (1980)

This is one of the funniest movie of all time. Devised by the jokesters behind The Naked Gun, this disaster movie spoof stuffs every second of runtime with a physical gag (The nun slapping a hysterical woman!), dimwitted wordplay ("Don't call me, Shirley"), an uncomfortable moment of odd behavior ("Joey, have you ever seen a grown man naked?"), or some other asinine bit. The rare comedy that demands repeat viewings, just to catch every micro-sized joke and memorize every line.

A24

American Honey (2016)

Writer/director Andrea Arnold lets you sit shotgun for the travels of a group of wayward youth in American Honey, a seductive drama about a "mag crew" selling subscriptions and falling in and out of love with each other on the road. Seen through the eyes of Star, played by Sasha Lane, life on the Midwest highway proves to be directionless, filled with a stream of partying and steamy hookups in the backs of cars and on the side of the road, especially when she starts to develop feelings for Shia LaBeouf’s rebellious Jake. It’s an honest look at a group of disenfranchised young people who are often cast aside, and it’s blazing with energy. You’ll buy what they're selling.

Anna Karenina (2012)

Adapted by renowned playwright Tom Stoppard, this take on Leo Tolstoy's classic Russian novel is anything but stuffy, historical drama. Keira Knightley, Jude Law, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Domhnall Gleeson, Alicia Vikander are all overflowing with passion and desire, heating up the chilly backdrop of St. Petersburg. But it's director Joe Wright's unique staging -- full of dance, lush costuming, fourth-wall-breaking antics, and other theatrical touches -- that reinvent the story for more daring audiences.

NETFLIX

Apostle (2018)

For his follow-up to his two action epics, The Raid and The Raid 2, director Gareth Evans dials back the hand-to-hand combat but still keeps a few buckets of blood handy in this grisly supernatural horror tale. Dan Stevens stars as Thomas Richardson, an early 20th century opium addict traveling to a cloudy island controlled by a secretive cult that's fallen on hard times. The religious group is led by a bearded scold named Father Malcolm (Michael Sheen) who may or may not be leading his people astray. Beyond a few bursts of kinetic violence and some crank-filled torture sequences, Evans plays this story relatively down-the-middle, allowing the performances, the lofty themes, and the windswept vistas to do the talking. It's a cult movie that earns your devotion slowly, then all at once.

Back to the Future (1985)

Buckle into Doc's DeLorean and head to the 1950s by way of 1985 with the seminal time-travel series that made Michael J. Fox a household name. It's always a joy watching Marty McFly's race against the clock way-back-when to ensure history runs its course and he can get back to the present. Netflix also has follow-up Parts II and III, which all add up to a perfect rainy afternoon marathon.

NETFLIX

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018)

The Coen brothers gave some big-name-director cred to Netflix by releasing their six-part Western anthology on the streaming service, and while it's not necessarily their best work, Buster Scruggs is clearly a cut above most Netflix originals. Featuring star turns from Liam Neeson, Tom Waits, Zoe Kazan, and more, the film takes advantage of Netflix's willingness to experiment by composing a sort of death fugue that unfolds across the harsh realities of life in Manifest Destiny America. Not only does it revel in the massive, sweeping landscapes of the American West, but it's a thoughtful meditation on death that will reveal layer after layer long after you finish.

Barbershop (2002)

If you've been sleeping on the merits of the Barbershop movies, the good news is it's never too late to get caught up. Revisit the 2002 installment that started Ice Cube's smack-talking franchise so you can bask in Cedric the Entertainer's hilarious wisdom, enjoy Eve's acting debut, and admire this joyful ode to community.

NETFLIX

Barry (2016)

In 1981, Barack Obama touched down in New York City to begin work at Columbia University. As Barry imagines, just days after settling into his civics class, a white classmate confronts the Barry with an argument one will find in the future president's Twitter @-mentions: "Why does everything always got to be about slavery?" Exaltation is cinematic danger, especially when bringing the life of a then-sitting president to screen. Barry avoids hagiography by staying in the moment, weighing race issues of a modern age and quieting down for the audience to draw its own conclusions. Devon Terrell is key, steadying his character as smooth-operating, socially active, contemplative fellow stuck in an interracial divide. Barry could be any half-black, half-white kid from the '80s. But in this case, he's haunted by past, present, and future.

Being John Malkovich (1999)

You can't doubt the audacity of screenwriter Charlie Kaufman (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Anomalisa), whose first produced screenplay hinged on attracting the title actor to a script that has office drones discovering a portal into his mind. John Cusack, Catherine Keener, and Cameron Diaz combine to create an atmosphere of desperate, egomaniacal darkness, and by the end you'll feel confused and maybe a little slimy about the times you've participated in celebrity gawking.

A24

The Blackcoat's Daughter (2017)

Two young women are left behind at school during break... and all sorts of hell breaks loose. This cool, stylish thriller goes off in some strange directions (and even offers a seemingly unrelated subplot about a mysterious hitchhiker) but it all pays off in the end, thanks in large part to the three leads -- Emma Roberts, Lucy Boynton, and Kiernan Shipka -- and director Oz Perkins' artful approach to what could have been just another occult-based gore-fest.

Bloodsport (1988)

Jean-Claude Van Damme made a career out of good-not-great fluff. Universal Soldier is serviceable spectacle, Hard Target is a living cartoon, Lionheart is his half-baked take on On the Waterfront. Bloodsport, which owes everything to the legacy of Bruce Lee, edges out his Die Hard riff Sudden Death for his best effort, thanks to muscles-on-top-of-muscles-on-top-of-muscles fighting and Stan Bush's "Fight to Survive." Magic Mike has nothing on Van Damme's chiseled backside in Bloodsport, which flexes its way through a slow-motion karate-chop gauntlet. In his final face-off, Van Damme, blinded by arena dust, rage-screams his way to victory. The amount of adrenaline bursting out of Bloodsport demands a splash zone.

Blue Ruin (2013)

Before he went punk with 2016's siege thriller Green Room, director Jeremy Saulnier delivered this low-budget, darkly comic hillbilly noir. When Dwight Evans (Macon Blair) discovers that the man who killed his parents is being released from prison, he returns home to Virginia to claims his revenge and things quickly spin out of control. Like the Coen Brothers' Blood Simple, this wise-ass morality tale will make you squirm.

WELL GO USA ENTERTAINMEN

Burning (2018)

Some mysteries simmer; this one smolders. In his adaptation of a Haruki Murakami short story, writer and director Lee Chang-dong includes many elements of the acclaimed author's slyly mischievous style -- cats, jazz, cooking, and an alienated male writer protagonist all pop up -- but he also invests the material with his own dark humor, stray references to contemporary news, and an unyielding sense of curiosity. We follow aimless aspiring novelist Lee Jong-su (Yoo Ah-in) as he reconnects with Shin Hae-mi (Jeon Jong-seo), a young woman he grew up with, but the movie never lets you get too comfortable in one scene or setting. When Steven Yeun's Ben, a handsome rich guy with a beautiful apartment and a passion for burning down greenhouses, appears, the film shifts to an even more tremulous register. Can Ben be trusted? Yeun's performance is perfectly calibrated to entice and confuse, like he's a suave, pyromaniac version of Tyler Durden. Each frame keeps you guessing.

Cam (2018)

Unlike the Unfriended films or this summer's indie hit Searching, this web thriller from director Daniel Goldhaber and screenwriter Isa Mazzei isn't locked into the visual confines of a computer screen. Though there's plenty of online screen time, allowing for subtle bits of commentary and satire, the looser style allows the filmmakers to really explore the life and work conditions of their protagonist, rising cam girl Alice (Madeline Brewer). We meet her friends, her family, and her customers. That type of immersion in the granular details makes the scarier bits -- like an unnerving confrontation in the finale between Alice and her evil doppelganger -- pop even more.

THE ORCHARD

Creep (2014)

Patrick Brice's found-footage movie is a no-budget answer to a certain brand of horror, but saying more would give away its sinister turns. Just know that the man behind the camera answered a Craigslist ad to create a "day in the life" video diary for Josef (Mark Duplass), who really loves life. Creep proves that found footage, the indie world's no-budget genre solution, still has life, as long as you have a performer like Duplass willing to go all the way.

The Death of Stalin (2017)

Armando Iannucci, the brilliant Veep creator, set his sights on Russia with this savage political satire. Based on a graphic novel, the film dramatizes the madcap, maniacal plots of the men jostling for power after their leader, Joseph Stalin, keels over. From there, backstabbing, furious insults, and general chaos unfolds. Anchored by performances from Shakespearean great Simon Russell Beale and American icon Steve Buscemi, it's a pleasure to see what the rest of the cast -- from Star Trek: Discovery's Jason Isaacs to Homeland's Rupert Friend -- do with Iannucci's eloquently brittle text.

Den of Thieves (2018)

If there's one thing you've probably heard about this often ridiculous bank robbery epic, it's that it steals shamelessly from Michael Mann's crime saga Heat. The broad plot elements are similar: There's a team of highly-efficient criminals led by a former Marine (Pablo Schreiber) and they must contend with a obsessive, possibly unhinged cop (Gerard Butler) over the movie's lengthy 140 minute runtime.  A screenwriter helming a feature for the first time, director Christian Gudegast is not in the same league as Mann as a filmmaker and Butler, sporting unflattering tattoos and a barrel-like gut, is hardly Al Pacino. But everyone is really going for it here, attempting to squeeze every ounce of Muscle Milk from the bottle.

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Divines (2016)

Thrillers don't come much more propulsive or elegant than Houda Benyamina's Divines, a heartwarming French drama about female friendship that spirals into a pulse-pounding crime saga. Rambunctious teenager Dounia (Oulaya Amamra) and her best friend Maimouna (Déborah Lukumuena) begin the film as low-level shoplifters and thieves, but once they fall into the orbit of a slightly older, seasoned drug dealer named Rebecca (Jisca Kalvanda), they're on a Goodfellas-like trajectory. Benyamina offsets the violent, gritty genre elements with lyrical passages where Dounia watches her ballet-dancer crush rehearse his routines from afar, and kinetic scenes of the young girls goofing off on social media. It's a cautionary tale told with joy, empathy, and an eye for beauty.

Dolemite Is My Name (2019)

Eddie Murphy has been waiting years to get this movie about comedian and blaxploitation star Rudy Ray Moore made, and you can feel his joy in finally getting to play this role every second he's on screen. The film, directed by Hustle & Flow's Craig Brewer, charts how Moore rose from record store employee, to successful underground comedian, to making his now-cult classic feature Dolemite by sheer force of passion. It's thrilling (and hilarious) to watch Murphy adopt Moore's Dolemite persona, a swaggering pimp, but it's just as satisfying to see the former SNL star capture his character at his lowest points. He's surrounded by an ensemble that matches his infectious energy.

The Edge of Seventeen (2016)

As romanticized as adolescence can be, it’s hard being young. Following the high school experience of troubled, overdramatic Nadine (Hailee Steinfeld), The Edge of Seventeen portrays the woes of adolescence with a tender, yet appropriately cheeky tone. As if junior year isn’t hellish enough, the universe essentially bursts into flames when Nadine finds out her best friend is dating her brother; their friendship begins to dissolve, and she finds the only return on young love is embarrassment and pain. That may all sound like a miserable premise for a young-adult movie, except it’s all painfully accurate, making it endearingly hilarious -- and there’s so much to love about Steinfeld’s self-aware performance.

FOCUS FEATURES

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

Romance and love are nothing without the potential for loss and pain, but most of us would probably still consider cutting away all the worst memories of the latter. Given the option to eradicate memories of their busted relationship, Jim Carrey's Joel and Kate Winslet's Clementine go through with the procedure, only to find themselves unable to totally let go. Science fiction naturally lends itself to clockwork mechanisms, but director Michel Gondry and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman never lose the human touch as they toy with the kaleidoscope of their characters' hearts and minds.

The Evil Dead (1981)

Before Bruce Campbell's Ash was wielding his chainsaw-arm in Army of Darkness and on Starz's Ash Vs. Evil Dead, he was just a good looking guy hoping to spend a nice, quiet vacation in a cabin with some friends. Unfortunately, the book of the dead had other plans for him. With this low-budget horror classic, director Sam Raimi brings a surprising degree of technical ingenuity to bear on the splatter-film, sending his camera zooming around the woods with wonder and glee. While the sequels double-downed on laughs, the original Evil Dead still knows how to scare.

The Firm (1993)

The '90s were a golden era of sleek, movie-star-packed legal thrillers, and they don't get much better than director Sydney Pollack's The Firm. This John Grisham adaptation has a little bit of everything -- tax paperwork, sneering mobsters, and Garey Busey, for starters -- but there's one reason to watch this movie: the weirdness of Tom Cruise. He does a backflip in this movie. What else do you need to know?

A24

The Florida Project (2017)

Sean Baker's The Florida Project nuzzles into the swirling, sunny, strapped-for-cash populace of a mauve motel just within orbit of Walt Disney World. His eyes are Moonee, a 6-year-old who adventures through abandoned condos, along strip mall-encrusted highway, and across verdant fields of overgrown brush like Max in Where the Wild Things Are. But as gorgeous as the everything appears -- and The Florida Project looks stunning -- the world around here is falling apart, beginning with her mother, an ex-stripper turning to prostitution. The juxtaposition, and down-to-earth style, reconsiders modern America in the most electrifying way imaginable.

Frances Ha (2012)

Before winning hearts and Oscar nominations with her coming-of-age comedy Lady Bird, Greta Gerwig starred in the perfect companion film, about an aimless 27-year-old who hops from New York City to her hometown of Sacramento to Paris to Poughkeepsie and eventually back to New York in hopes of stumbling into the perfect job, the perfect relationship, and the perfect life. Directed by Noah Baumbach (The Meyerowitz Stories), and co-written by both, Frances Ha is a measured look at adult-ish life captured the kind of intoxicating black and white world we dream of living in.

NETFLIX

Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Happened (2019)

Everyone's favorite disaster of a festival received not one, but two streaming documentaries in the same week. Netflix's version has rightly faced some criticism over its willingness to let marketing company Fuck Jerry off the hook (Jerry Media produced the doc), but that doesn't take away from the overall picture it portrays of the festival's haphazard planning and the addiction to grift from which Fyre's founder, Billy McFarland, apparently suffers. It's schadenfreude at its best.

Gerald's Game (2017)

Like his previous low-budget Netflix-released horror release, Hush, a captivity thriller about a deaf woman fighting off a masked intruder, Mike Flanagan's Stephen King adaptation of Gerald's Game wrings big scares from a small location. Sticking close to the grisly plot details of King's seemingly "unfilmable" novel, the movie chronicles the painstaking struggles of Jessie Burlingame (Carla Gugino) after she finds herself handcuffed to a bed in an isolated vacation home when her husband, the titular Gerald, dies from a heart attack while enacting his kinky sexual fantasies. She's trapped -- and that's it. The premise is clearly challenging to sustain for a whole movie, but Flanagan and Gugino turn the potentially one-note set-up into a forceful, thoughtful meditation on trauma, memory, and resilience in the face of near-certain doom.

A24

Good Time (2017)

In this greasy, cruel thriller from Uncut Gems directors the Safdie brothers, Robert Pattinson stars as Connie, a bank robber who races through Queens to find enough money to bail out his mentally disabled brother, who's locked up for their last botched job. Each suffocating second of Good Time, blistered by the neon backgrounds of Queens, New York and propelled by warped heartbeat of Oneothrix Point Never's synth score, finds Connie evading authorities by tripping into an even stickier situation.

Green Room (2015)

Green Room is a throaty, thrashing, spit-slinging punk tune belted through an invasion-movie microphone at max volume. It's nasty -- and near-perfect. As a band of 20-something rockstars recklessly defend against a neo-Nazi battalion equipped with machetes, shotguns, and snarling guard dogs, the movie blossoms into a savage coming-of-age tale, an Almost Famous for John Carpenter nuts. Anyone looking for similar mayhem should check out director Jeremy Saulnier's previous movie, the low-budget, darkly comic hillbilly noir, Blue Ruin, also streaming on Netflix.

The Guest (2014)

After writer-director Adam Wingard notched a semi-sleeper horror hit with 2011's You're Next, he'd earned a certain degree of goodwill among genre faithful and, apparently, with studio brass. How else to explain distribution for his atypical thriller The Guest through Time Warner subsidiary Picturehouse? Headlined by soon-to-be megastar Dan Stevens and kindred flick It Follows' lead scream queen Maika Monroe, The Guest introduces itself as a subtextual impostor drama, abruptly spins through a blender of '80s teen tropes, and ultimately reveals its true identity as an expertly self-conscious straight-to-video shoot 'em up, before finally circling back on itself with a well-earned wink. To say anymore about the hell that Stevens' "David" unleashes on a small New Mexico town would not only spoil the fun, but possibly get you killed.

THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY

The Hateful Eight (2015)

Quentin Tarantino has something to say about race, violence, and American life, and it's going to ruffle feathers. Like Django Unchained, the writer-director reflects modern times on the Old West, but with more scalpel-sliced dialogue, profane poetry, and gore. Stewed from bits of Agatha Christie, David Mamet, and Sam Peckinpah, The Hateful Eight traps a cast of blowhards (including Samuel L. Jackson as a Civil War veteran, Kurt Russell as a bounty hunter known as "The Hangman," and Jennifer Jason Leigh as a psychopathic gang member) in a blizzard-enveloped supply station. Tarantino ups the tension by shooting his suffocating space in "glorious 70mm." Treachery and moral compromise never looked so good.

High Flying Bird (2019)

High Flying Bird is a basketball film that has little to do with the sport itself, instead focusing on the behind-the-scenes power dynamics that play out during an NBA lockout. At the center of the Steven Soderbergh movie -- shot on an iPhone, because that's what he does now -- is André Holland's Ray Burke, a sports agent trying to protect his client's interests while also disrupting a corrupt system. It's not an easy tightrope to walk, and, as you might expect, the conditions of the labor stoppage constantly change the playing field. With his iPhone mirroring the NBA's social media-heavy culture, and appearances from actual NBA stars lending the narrative heft, Soderbergh experiments with Netflix's carte blanche and produces a unique film that adds to the streaming service's growing list of original critical hits.

PARAMOUNT PICTURES

Hugo (2011)

Martin Scorsese hit pause on mob violence and Rolling Stones singles to deliver one of the greatest kid-centric films in eons. Following Hugo (Asa Butterfield) as he traces his own origin story through cryptic automaton clues and early 20th-century movie history, the grand vision wowed in 3-D and still packs a punch at home.

I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House (2016)

A meditative horror flick that's more unsettling than outright frightening, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House follows the demise of Lily, a live-in nurse (Ruth Wilson) who's caring for an ailing horror author. As Lily discovers the truth about the writer's fiction and home, the lines between the physical realm and the afterlife blur. The movie's slow pacing and muted escalation might frustrate viewers craving showy jump-scares, but writer-director Oz Perkins is worth keeping tabs on. He brings a beautiful eeriness to every scene, and his story will captivate patient streamers. Fans should be sure to check out his directorial debut, The Blackcoat's Daughter.

NETFLIX

I Don't Feel at Home in This World Anymore (2017)

In this maniacal mystery, Ruth (Melanie Lynskey), a nurse, and her rattail-sporting, weapon-obsessed neighbor Tony (Elijah Wood) hunt down a local burglar. Part Cormac McCarthy thriller, part wacky, Will Ferrell-esque comedy, I Don't Feel at Home in This World Anymore is a cathartic neo-noir about everyday troubles. Director Macon Blair's not the first person to find existential enlightenment at the end of an amateur detective tale, but he might be the first to piece one together from cussing octogenarians, ninja stars, Google montages, gallons of Big Red soda, upper-deckers, friendly raccoons, exploding body parts, and the idiocy of humanity.

Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

With a bullwhip, a leather jacket, and an "only Harrison Ford can pull this off" fedora, director Steven Spielberg invented the modern Hollywood action film by doing what he does best: looking backward. As obsessed as his movie-brat pal and collaborator George Lucas with the action movie serials of their youth, the director mined James Bond, Humphrey Bogart, Westerns, and his hatred of Nazis to create an adventure classic. To watch Raiders of the Lost Ark now is to marvel at the ingenuity of specific sequences (the boulder! The truck scene! The face-melting!) and simply groove to the self-deprecating comic tone (snakes! Karen Allen! That swordsman Indy shoots!). The past has never felt so alive.

Inside Man (2006)

Denzel Washington is at his wily, sharp, and sharply dressed best as he teams up once again with Spike Lee for this wildly entertaining heist thriller. He's an NYPD hostage negotiator who discovers a whole bunch of drama when a crew of robbers (led by Clive Owen) takes a bank hostage during a 24-hour period. Jodie Foster also appears as an interested party with uncertain motivations. You'll have to figure out what's going on several times over before the truth outs.

DRAFTHOUSE FILMS

The Invitation (2015)

This slow-burn horror-thriller preys on your social anxiety. The film's first half-hour, which finds Quarry's Logan Marshall-Green arriving at his ex-wife's house to meet her new husband, plays like a Sundance dramedy about 30-something yuppies and their relationship woes. As the minutes go by, director Karyn Kusama (Jennifer's Body) burrows deeper into the awkward dinner party, finding tension in unwelcome glances, miscommunication, and the possibility that Marshall-Green's character might be misreading a bizarre situation as a dangerous one. We won't spoil what happens, but let's just say this is a party you'll be telling your friends about.

Ip Man (2008)

There aren't many biopics that also pass for decent action movies. Somehow, Hong Kong action star Donnie Yen and director Wilson Yip made Ip Man (and three sequels!) based on the life of Chinese martial arts master Yip Kai-man, who famously trained Bruce Lee. What's their trick to keeping this series fresh? Play fast and loose with the facts, up the melodrama with each film, and, when in doubt, cast Mike Tyson as an evil property developer. The fights are incredible, and Yen's portrayal of the aging master still has the power to draw a few tears from even the most grizzled tough guy.

NETFLIX

The Irishman (2019)

Opening with a tracking shot through the halls of a drab nursing home, where we meet a feeble old man telling tall tales from his wheelchair, The Irishman delights in undercutting its own grandiosity. All the pageantry a $150 million check from Netflix can buy -- the digital de-aging effects, the massive crowd scenes, the shiny rings passed between men -- is on full display. Everything looks tremendous. But, like with 2013's The Wolf of Wall Street, the characters can't escape the fundamental spiritual emptiness of their pursuits. In telling the story of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro), a World War II veteran and truck driver turned mob enforcer and friend to labor leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), director Martin Scorsese and screenwriter Steven Zaillian construct an underworld-set counter-narrative of late 20th century American life. Even with a 209 minute runtime, every second counts.

It Comes at Night (2017)

In this post-apocalyptic nightmare-and-a-half, the horrors of humanity, the strain of chaotic emotions pent up in the name of survival, bleed out through wary eyes and weathered hands. The setup is blockbuster-sized -- reverts mankind to the days of the American frontier, every sole survivor fights to protect their families and themselves -- but the drama is mano-a-mano. Barricaded in a haunted-house-worthy cabin in the woods, Paul (Edgerton) takes in Will (Abbott) and his family, knowing full well they could threaten his family's existence. All the while, Paul's son, Trevor, battles bloody visions of (or induced by?) the contagion. Shults directs the hell out of every slow-push frame of this psychological thriller, and the less we know, the more confusion feels like a noose around our necks, the scarier his observations become.

WARNER BROS. PICTURES

Jupiter Ascending (2015)

Jupiter Ascending is one of those "bad" movies that might genuinely be quite good. Yes, Channing Tatum is a man-wolf and Mila Kunis is the princess of space and bees don't sting space royalty and Eddie Redmayne hollers his little head off about "harvesting" people -- but what makes this movie great is how all of those things make total, absolute sense in the context of the story. The world the Wachowskis (yes, the Wachowskis!) created is so vibrant and strange and exciting, you almost can't help but get drawn in, even when Redmayne vamps so hard you're afraid he's about to pull a muscle. (And if you're a ballet fan, we have some good news for you.)

Jurassic Park (1993)

Perhaps the only movie that ever truly deserved a conversion to a theme-park ride, Steven Spielberg's thrilling adaptation of the Michael Crichton novel brought long-extinct creatures back to life in more ways than one. Benevolent Netflix gives us more than just the franchise starter, too: The Lost World and JP3 sequels are also available, so you can make a marathon of it.

THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY

Killing Them Softly (2012)

Brad Pitt doesn't make conventional blockbusters anymore -- even World War Z had epidemic-movie ambitions -- so it's not surprising that this crime thriller is a little out there. Set during the financial crisis and presidential election of 2008, the film follows Pitt's hitman character as he makes sense of a poker heist gone wrong, leaving a trail of bodies and one-liners along the way. Mixed in with the carnage, you get lots of musings about the economy and American exceptionalism. It's not subtle -- there's a scene where Scoot McNairy and Ben Mendelsohn do heroin while the Velvet Underground's "Heroin" plays -- but, like a blunt object to the head, it gets the job done.

Lady Bird (2017)

The dizzying, frustrating, exhilarating rite of passage that is senior year of high school is the focus of actress Greta Gerwig's first directorial effort, the story of girl named Lady Bird (her given name, in that "it’s given to me, by me") who rebels against everyday Sacramento, California life to obtain whatever it is "freedom" turns out to be. Laurie Metcalf is an understated powerhouse as Lady Bird's mother, a constant source of contention who doggedly pushes her daughter to be successful in the face of the family's dwindling economic resources. It's a tragic note in total complement to Gerwig's hysterical love letter to home, high school, and the history of ourselves.

A24

The Lobster (2016)

Greek style master Yorgos Lanthimos' dystopian allegory against romance sees Colin Farrell forced to choose a partner in 45 days or he'll be turned into an animal of his choice, which is a lobster. Stuck in a group home with similarly unlucky singles, Farrell's David decides to bust out and join other renegades in a kind of anti-love terror cell that lives in the woods. It's part comedy of manners, part futuristic thriller, and it looks absolutely beautiful -- Lanthimos handles the bizarre premise with grace and a naturalistic eye that reminds the viewer that humans remain one of the most interesting animals to exist on this planet.

Mad Max (1979)

Before Tom Hardy was grunting his way through the desert and crushing tiny two-headed reptiles as Max Rockatansky, there was Mel Gibson. George Miller's 1979 original introduces the iconic character and paints the maximum force of his dystopian mythology in a somewhat more grounded light -- Australian police factions, communities, and glimmers of hope still in existence. Badass homemade vehicles and chase scenes abound in this taut, 88-minute romp. It's aged just fine.

Magic Mike (2012)

Steven Soderbergh's story of a Tampa exotic dancer with a heart of gold (Channing Tatum) has body-rolled its way to Netflix. Sexy dance routines aside, Mike's story is just gritty enough to be subversive. Did we mention Matthew McConaughey shows up in a pair of ass-less chaps?

The Master (2012)

Loosely inspired by the life of Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard -- Dianetics buffs, we strongly recommend Alex Gibney's Going Clear documentary as a companion piece -- The Master boasts one of the late Philip Seymour Hoffman’s finest performances, as the enigmatic cult leader Lancaster Dodd. Joaquin Phoenix burns just as brightly as his emotionally stunted, loose-cannon protege Freddie Quell, who has a taste for homemade liquor. Paul Thomas Anderson’s cerebral epic lends itself to many different readings; it’s a cult story, it's a love story, it's a story about post-war disillusionment and the American dream, it's a story of individualism and the desire to belong. But the auteur's popping visuals and heady thematic currents will still sweep you away, even if you’re not quite sure where the tide is taking you.

NETFLIX

The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) (2017)

When Danny (Adam Sandler), Matthew (Ben Stiller) and Jean (Elizabeth Marvel), three half-siblings from three different mothers, gather at their family brownstone in New York to tend to their ailing father (Dustin Hoffman), a lifetime of familial politics explode out of every minute of conversation. Their narcissistic sculptor dad didn't have time for Danny. Matthew was the golden child. Jean was weird… or maybe disturbed by memories no one ever knew. Expertly sketched by writer-director Noah Baumbach (The Squid and the Whale) this memoir-like portrait of lives half-lived is the kind of bittersweet, dimensional character comedy we're now used to seeing told in three seasons of prestige television. Baumbach gives us the whole package in two hours.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

The legendary British comedy troupe took the legend of King Arthur and offered a characteristically irreverent take on it in their second feature film. It's rare for comedy to hold up this well, but the timelessness of lines like, "I fart in your general direction!" "It's just a flesh wound," and "Run away!" makes this a movie worth watching again and again.

A24

Moonlight (2016)

Chronicling the boyhood years, teenage stretch, and muted adult life of Chiron, a black gay man making it in Miami, this triptych altarpiece is at once hyper-specific and cosmically universal. Director Barry Jenkins roots each moment in the last; Chiron's desire for a lost lover can't burn in a diner booth over a bottle of wine without his beachside identity crisis years prior, blurred and violent, or encounters from deeper in his past, when glimpses of his mother's drug addiction, or the mentoring acts of her crack supplier, felt like secrets delivered in code. Panging colors, sounds, and the delicate movements of its perfect cast like the notes of a symphony, Moonlight is the real deal, a movie that will only grow and complicate as you wrestle with it.

Mudbound (2017)

The South's post-slavery existence is, for Hollywood, mostly uncharted territory. Rees rectifies the overlooked stretch of history with this novelistic drama about two Mississippi families working a rain-drenched farm in 1941. The white McAllans settle on a muddy patch of land to realize their dreams. The Jacksons, a family of black sharecroppers working the land, have their own hopes, which their neighbors manage to nurture and curtail. To capture a multitude of perspectives, Mudbound weaves together specific scenes of daily life, vivid and memory-like, with family member reflections, recorded in whispered voice-over. The epic patchwork stretches from the Jackson family dinner table, where the youngest daughter dreams of becoming a stenographer, to the vistas of Mississippi, where incoming storms threaten an essential batch of crops, to the battlefields of World War II Germany, a harrowing scene that will affect both families. Confronting race, class, war, and the possibility of unity, Mudbound spellbinding drama reckons with the past to understand the present.

NETFLIX

My Happy Family (2017)

At 52, Manana (Ia Shughliashvili) packs a bag and walks out on her husband, son, daughter, daughter's live-in boyfriend, and elderly mother and father, all of whom live together in a single apartment. The family is cantankerous and blustery, asking everything of Manana, who spends her days teaching better-behaved teenagers about literature. But as Nana Ekvtimishvili and Simon Groß's striking character study unfolds, the motivation behind Manana's departure is a deeper strain of frustration, despite what her brother, aunts, uncles, and anyone else who can cram themselves into the situation would like us to think. Anchored by Ia Shughliashvili's stunningly internal performance, and punctured by a dark sense of humor akin to Darren Aronofsky's mother! (which would have been the perfect alternate title), My Happy Family is both delicate and brutal in its portrayal of independence, and should get under the skin of anyone with their own family drama.

The Naked Gun (1988)

The short-lived Dragnet TV spoof Police Squad! found a second life as The Naked Gun action-comedy movie franchise, and the first installment goes all in on Airplane! co-star Leslie Nielsen's brand of straight-laced dementia. Trying to explain The Naked Gun only makes the stupid sound stupider, but keen viewers will find jokes on top of jokes on top of jokes. It's the kind of movie that can crack "nice beaver," then pass a stuffed beaver through the frame and actually get away with it. Nielsen has everything to do with it; his Frank Drebin continues the grand Inspector Clouseau tradition in oh-so-'80s style.

The Notebook (2004)

"If you’re a bird, I’m a bird." It's a simple statement and a declaration of devotion that captures the staying power of this Nicholas Sparks classic. The film made Ryan Gosling a certified heartthrob, charting his working class character Noah's lovelorn romance with Rachel McAdam's wealthy character Allie. The star-crossed lovers narrative is enough to make even the most cynical among us swoon, but given that their story is told through an elderly man reading (you guessed it!) a notebook to a woman with dementia, it hits all of the tragic romance benchmarks to make you melt. Noah's commitment to following his heart -- and that passionate kiss in the rain -- make this a love story for the ages.

NETFLIX

Okja (2017)

This wild ride, part action heist, part Miyazaki-like travelogue, and part scathing satire, is fueled by fairy tale whimsy -- but the Grimm kind, where there are smiles and spilled blood. Ahn Seo-hyun plays Mija, the young keeper of a "super-pig," bred by a food manufacturer to be the next step in human-consumption evolution. When the corporate overlords come for her roly-poly pal, Mija hightails it from the farm to the big city to break him out, crossing environmental terrorists, a zany Steve Irwin-type (Gyllenhaal), and the icy psychos at the top of the food chain (including Swinton's childlike CEO) along the way. Okja won't pluck your heartstrings like E.T., but there's grandeur in its frenzy, and the film's cross-species friendship will strike up every other emotion with its empathetic, eco-friendly, and eccentric observations.

On Body and Soul (2017)

This Hungarian film earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Film, and it's easy to see why. The sparse love story begins when two slaughterhouse employees discover they have the same dream at night, in which they're both deer searching the winter forest for food. Endre, a longtime executive at the slaughterhouse, has a physically damaged arm, whereas Maria is a temporary replacement who seems to be on the autism spectrum. If the setup sounds a bit on-the-nose, the moving performances and the unflinching direction save On Body and Soul from turning into a Thomas Aquinas 101 class, resulting in the kind of bleak beauty you can find in a dead winter forest.

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The Other Side of the Wind (2018)

Don't go into Orson Welles' final film expecting it to be an easy watch. The Other Side of the Wind, which follows fictional veteran Hollywood director Jake Hannaford (tooootally not modeled after Welles himself) and his protegé (also tooootally not a surrogate for Welles' own friend and mentee Peter Bogdanovich, who also plays the character) as they attend a party in celebration of Hannaford's latest film and are beset on all sides by Hannaford's friends, enemies, and everyone in between. The film, which Welles hoped would be his big comeback to Hollywood, was left famously unfinished for decades after his death in 1985. Thanks to Bogdanovich and producer Frank Marshall, it was finally completed in 2018, and the result is a vibrant and bizarre throwback to Welles' own experimental 1970s style, made even more resonant if you know how intertwined the movie is with its own backstory. If you want to dive even deeper, Netflix also released a documentary about the restoration and completion of the film, They'll Love Me When I'm Dead, which delves into Welles' own complicated and tragic relationship with Hollywood and the craft of moviemaking.

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

Guillermo Del Toro’s dark odyssey Pan’s Labyrinth takes a fantasy setting to mirror the horrible political realities of the human realm. Set in 1940s Falangist Spain, the film documents the hero’s journey of a young girl and stepdaughter of a ruthless Spanish army officer as she seeks an escape from her war-occupied world. When a fairy informs her that her true destiny may be as the princess of the underworld, she seizes her chance. Like Alice in Wonderland if Alice had gone to Hell instead of down the rabbit hole, the Academy Award-winning film is a wondrous, frightening fairy tale where that depicts how perilous the human-created monster of war can be.

Paranormal Activity (2007)

This documentary-style film budgeted at a mere $15,000 made millions at the box office and went on to inspire a number of sequels, all because of how well its scrappiness lent to capturing what feels like a terrifying haunted reality. Centered on a young couple who is convinced an evil spirit is lurking in their home, the two attempt to capture its activity on camera, which, obviously, only makes their supernatural matters worse. It leans on found footage horror tropes made popular by The Blair Witch Project and as it tessellates between showing the viewer what’s captured on their camcorders and the characters’ perspectives, it’s easy to get lost in this disorienting supernatural thriller.

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Poltergeist (1982)

If you saw Poltergeist growing up, chances are you’re probably equally as haunted by Heather O’Rourke as she is in the film, playing a little girl tormented by ghosts in her family home. This Steven Spielberg-penned, Tobe Hooper-directed (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) paranormal flick is a certified cult classic and one of the best horror films of all time, coming from a simple premise about a couple whose home is infested with spirits obsessed with reclaiming the space and kidnapping their daughter. Poltergeist made rearranged furniture freaky, and you may remember a particularly iconic scene with a fuzzed out vintage television set. It’s may be nearly 40 years old, but the creepiness holds up.

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Taking Jane Austen's literary classic and tricking it out with gorgeous long takes, director Joe Wright turns this tale of manners into a visceral, luminescent portrait of passion and desire. While Succession's Matthew MacFadyen might not make you forget Colin Firth from 1995's BBC adaptation, Keira Knightley is a revelation as the tough, nervy Lizzie Bennett. With fun supporting turns from Donald Sutherland, Rosamund Pike, and Judi Dench, it's a sumptuous period romance that transports you from the couch to the ballroom of your dreams -- without changing out of sweatpants.

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Private Life (2018)

Over a decade since the release of her last dark comedy, The Savages, writer and director Tamara Jenkins returned with a sprawling movie in the same vein: more hyper-verbal jerks you can't help but love. Richard (Paul Giamatti) and Rachel (Kathryn Hahn) are a Manhattan-dwelling couple who have spent the last few years attempting to have a baby with little success. When we meet them, they're already in the grips of fertility mania, willing to try almost anything to secure the offspring they think they desire. With all the details about injections, side effects, and pricey medical procedures, the movie functions as a taxonomy of modern pregnancy anxieties, and Hahn brings each part of the process to glorious life.

The Ritual (2018)

The Ritual, a horror film where a group of middle-aged men embark on a hiking trip in honor of a dead friend, understands the tension between natural beauty of the outdoors and the unsettling panic of the unknown. The group's de facto leader Luke (an understated Rafe Spall) attempts to keep the adventure from spiralling out of control, but the forest has other plans. (Maybe brush up on your Scandinavian mythology before viewing.) Like a backpacking variation on Neil Marshall's 2005 cave spelunking classic The Descent, The Ritual deftly explores inter-personal dynamics while delivering jolts of other-worldly terror. It'll have you rethinking that weekend getaway on your calendar.

NETFLIX

Roma (2018)

All those billions Netflix spent paid off in the form of several Oscar nominations for Roma, including one for Best Picture and a win for Best Director. Whether experienced in the hushed reverence of a theater, watched on the glowing screen of a laptop, or, as Netflix executive Ted Sarandos has suggested, binged on the perilous surface of a phone, Alfonso Cuarón's black-and-white passion project seeks to stun. A technical craftsman of the highest order, the Children of Men and Gravity director has an aesthetic that aims to overwhelm -- with the amount of extras, the sense of despair, and the constant whir of exhilaration -- and this autobiographical portrait of kind-hearted maid Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio) caring for a family in the early 1970s has been staged on a staggering, mind-boggling scale.

Schindler's List (1993)

A passion project for Steven Spielberg, who shot it back-to-back with another masterpiece, Jurassic Park, Schindler's List tells the story of Oskar Schindler, a German businessman who reportedly saved over 1,200 Jews during the Holocaust. Frank, honest, and stark in its depiction of Nazi violence, the three-hour historical drama is a haunting reminder of the world's past, every frame a relic, every lost voice channeled through Itzhak Perlman's mourning violin.

A Serious Man (2009)

This dramedy from the Coen brothers stars Michael Stuhlbarg as Larry Gopnik, a Midwestern physics professor who just can't catch a break, whether it's with his wife, his boss, or his rabbi. (Seriously, if you're having a bad day, this airy flick gives you ample time to brood and then come to the realization that your life isn't as shitty as you think.) Meditating on the spiritual and the temporal, Gopnik's improbable run of bad luck is a smart modern retelling of the Book of Job, with more irony and fewer plagues and pestilences. But not much fewer.

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Shadow (2019)

In Shadow, the visually stunning action epic from Hero and House of Flying Daggers wuxia master Zhang Yimou, parasols are more than helpful sun-blockers: They can be turned into deadly weapons, shooting boomerang-like blades of steel at oncoming attackers and transforming into protective sleds for traveling through the slick streets. These devices are one of many imaginative leaps made in telling this Shakespearean saga of palace intrigue, vengeance, and secret doppelgangers set in China's Three Kingdoms period. This is a martial arts epic where the dense plotting is as tricky as the often balletic fight scenes. If the battles in Game of Thrones left you frustrated, Shadow provides a thrilling alternative.

She's Gotta Have It (1986)

Before checking out Spike Lee's Netflix original series of the same name, be sure to catch up with where it all began. Nola (Tracy Camilla Johns) juggles three men during her sexual pinnacle, and it's all working out until they discover one another. She's Gotta Have It takes some dark turns, but each revelation speaks volumes about what real romantic independence is all about.

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

The late director Jonathan Demme's 1991 film is the touchstone for virtually every serial killer film and television show that came after. The iconic closeup shots of an icy, confident Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins) as he and FBI newbie Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) engage in their "quid pro quo" interrogation sessions create almost unbearable tension as Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine) remains on the loose, killing more victims. Hopkins delivers the more memorable lines, and Buffalo Bill's dance is the stuff of nerve-wracking anxiety nightmares, but it's Foster's nuanced performance as a scared, determined, smart-yet-hesitant agent that sets Silence of the Lambs apart from the rest of the serial killer pack.

THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY

Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Jennifer Lawrence, Bradley Cooper, and David O. Russell’s first collaboration -- and the film that turned J-Law into a bona fide golden girl -- is a romantic comedy/dramedy/dance-flick that bounces across its tonal shifts. A love story between Pat (Cooper), a man struggling with bipolar disease and a history of violent outbursts, and Tiffany (Lawrence), a widow grappling with depression, who come together while rehearsing for an amateur dance competition, Silver Linings balances an emotionally realistic depiction of mental illness with some of the best twirls and dips this side of Step Up. Even if you're allergic to rom-coms, Lawrence and Cooper’s winning chemistry will win you over, as will this sweet little gem of a film: a feel-good, affecting love story that doesn’t feel contrived or treacly.

Sin City (2005)

Frank Miller enlisted Robert Rodriguez as co-director to translate the former's wildly popular series of the same name to the big screen, and with some added directorial work from Quentin Tarantino, the result became a watershed moment in the visual history of film. The signature black-and-white palette with splashes of color provided a grim backdrop to the sensational violence of the miniaturized plotlines -- this is perhaps the movie that feels more like a comic than any other movie you'll ever see.

Sinister (2012)

Horror-movie lesson #32: If you move into a creepy new house, do not read the dusty book, listen to the decaying cassette tapes, or watch the Super 8 reels you find in the attic -- they will inevitably lead to your demise. In Sinister, a true-crime author (played by Ethan Hawke) makes the final mistake, losing his mind to home movies haunted by the "Bughuul."

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Small Crimes (2017)

It's always a little discombobulating to see your favorite Game of Thrones actors in movies that don't call on them to fight dragons, swing swords, or at least wear some armor. But that shouldn't stop you from checking out Small Crimes, a carefully paced thriller starring the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister himself, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. As Joe Denton, a crooked cop turned ex-con, Coster-Waldau plays yet another character with a twisted moral compass, but here he's not part of some mythical narrative. He's just another conniving, scheming dirtbag in director E.L. Katz's Coen brothers-like moral universe. While some of the plot details are confusing -- Katz and co-writer Macon Blair skimp on the exposition so much that some of the dialogue can feel incomprehensible -- the mood of Midwestern dread and Coster-Waldau's patient, lived-in performance make this one worth checking out. Despite the lack of dragons.

Snowpiercer (2013)

Did people go overboard in praising Snowpiercer when it came out? Maybe. But it's important to remember that the movie arrived in the sweaty dog days of summer, hitting critics and sci-fi lovers like a welcome blast of icy water from a hose. The film's simple, almost video game-like plot -- get to the front of the train, or die trying -- allowed visionary South Korean director Bong Joon-ho to fill the screen with excitement, absurdity, and radical politics. Chris Evans never looked more alive, Tilda Swinton never stole more scenes, and mainstream blockbuster filmmaking never felt so tepid in comparison. Come on, ride the train!

The Social Network (2010)

After making films like Seven, The Game, Fight Club, Panic Room, and Zodiac, director David Fincher left behind the world of scumbags and crime for a fantastical, historical epic in 2008's The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. The Social Network was another swerve, but yielded his greatest film. There's no murder on screen, but Fincher treats Jesse Eisenberg's Mark Zuckerberg like a dorky, socially awkward mob boss operating on an operatic scale. Screenwriter Aaron Sorkin's rapid-fire, screwball-like dialogue burns with a moral indignation that Fincher's watchful, steady-handed camera chills with an icy distance. It's the rare biopic that's not begging you to smash the "like" button.

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Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

In this shrewd twist on the superhero genre, the audience's familiarity with the origin story of your friendly neighborhood web-slinger -- the character has already starred in three different blockbuster franchises, in addition to countless comics and cartoon TV adaptations -- is used as an asset instead of a liability. The relatively straight-forward coming-of-age tale of Miles Morales (Shameik Moore), a Brooklyn teenager who takes on the powers and responsibilities of Spider-Man following the death of Peter Parker, gets a remix built around an increasingly absurd parallel dimension plotline that introduces a cast of other Spider-Heroes like Spider-Woman (Hailee Steinfeld), Spider-Man Noir (Nicolas Cage), Peni Parker (Kimiko Glen), and, most ridiculously, Spider-Ham (John Mulaney), a talking pig in a Spider-Suit. The convoluted set-up is mostly an excuse to cram the movie with rapid-fire jokes, comic book allusions, and dream-like imagery that puts the rubbery CGI of most contemporary animated films to shame.

Spotlight (2015)

Tom McCarthy stretches the drama taut as he renders Boston Globe's 2000 Catholic Church sex scandal investigation into a Hollywood vehicle. McCarthy's notable cast members crank like gears as they uncover evidence and reflect on a horrifying discovery of which they shoulder partial blame. Spotlight was the cardigan of 2015's Oscar nominees, but even cardigans look sharp when Mark Ruffalo is involved.

The Squid and the Whale (2005)

No movie captures the prolonged pain of divorce quite like Noah Baumbach's brutal Brooklyn-based comedy The Squid and the Whale. While the performances from Jeff Daniels and Laura Linney as bitter writers going through a separation are top-notch, the film truly belongs to the kids, played by Jesse Eisenberg and Owen Kline, who you watch struggle in the face of their parents' mounting immaturity and pettiness. That Baumbach is able to wring big, cathartic laughs from such emotionally raw material is a testament to his gifts as a writer -- and an observer of human cruelty.

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Starship Troopers (1997)

Paul Verhoeven is undoubtedly the master of the sly sci-fi satire. With RoboCop, he laid waste to the police state with wicked, trigger-happy glee. He took on evil corporations with Total Recall. And with Starship Troopers, a bouncy, bloody war picture, he skewered the chest-thumping theatrics of pro-military propaganda, offering up a pitch-perfect parody of the post-9/11 Bush presidency years before troops set foot in Iraq or Afghanistan. Come for the exploding alien guts, but stay for the winking comedy -- or stay for both! Bug guts have their charms, too.

Swiss Army Man (2016)

You might think a movie that opens with a suicidal man riding a farting corpse like a Jet Ski wears thin after the fourth or fifth flatulence gag. You would be wrong. Brimming with imagination and expression, the directorial debut of Adult Swim auteurs "The Daniels" wields sophomoric humor to speak to friendship. As Radcliffe's dead body springs back to life -- through karate-chopping, water-vomiting, and wind-breaking -- he becomes the id to Dano's struggling everyman, who is also lost in the woods. If your childhood backyard adventures took the shape of The Revenant, it would look something like Swiss Army Man, and be pure bliss.

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Tallulah (2016)

From Orange Is the New Black writer Sian Heder, Tallulah follows the title character (played by Ellen Page) after she inadvertently "kidnaps" a toddler from an alcoholic rich woman and passes the child off as her own to appeal to her run-out boyfriend's mother (Allison Janney). A messy knot of familial woes and wayward instincts, Heder's directorial debut achieves the same kind of balancing act as her hit Netflix series -- frank social drama with just the right amount of humorous hijinks. As Tallulah grows into a mother figure, her on-the-lam parenting course only makes her more and more of a criminal in the eyes of... just about everyone. You want to root for her, but that would be too easy.

Taxi Driver (1976)

Travis Bickle (a young Bobby De Niro) comes back from the Vietnam War and, having some trouble acclimating to daily life, slowly unravels while fending off brutal insomnia by picking up work as a... taxi driver... in New York City. Eventually he snaps, shaves his hair into a mohawk and goes on a murderous rampage while still managing to squeeze in one of the most New York lines ever captured on film ("You talkin' to me?"). It's not exactly a heartwarmer -- Jodie Foster plays a 12-year-old prostitute -- but Martin Scorsese's 1976 Taxi Driver is a movie in the cinematic canon that you'd be legitimately missing out on if you didn't watch it.

FOCUS FEATURES

The Theory of Everything (2014)

In his Oscar-winning performance, Eddie Redmayne portrays famed physicist Stephen Hawking -- though The Theory of Everything is less of a biopic than it is a beautiful, sweet film about his lifelong relationship with his wife, Jane (Felicity Jones). Covering his days as a young cosmology student ahead of his diagnosis of ALS at 21, through his struggle with the illness and rise as a theoretical scientist, this film illustrates the trying romance through it all. While it may be written in the cosmos, this James Marsh-directed film that weaves in and out of love will have you experience everything there is to feel.

There Will Be Blood (2007)

Paul Thomas Anderson found modern American greed in the pages of Upton Sinclair's depression-era novel, Oil!. Daniel Day-Lewis found the role of a lifetime behind the bushy mustache of Daniel Plainview, thunderous entrepreneur. Paul Dano found his milkshake drunk up. Their discoveries are our reward -- There Will Be Blood is a stark vision of tycoon terror.

Time to Hunt (2020)

Unrelenting in its pursuit of scenarios where guys point big guns at each other in sparsely lit empty hallways, the South Korean thriller Time to Hunt knows exactly what stylistic register it's playing in. A group of four friends, including Parasite and Train to Busan break-out Choi Woo-shik, knock over a gambling house, stealing a hefty bag of money and a set of even more valuable hard-drives, and then find themselves targeted by a ruthless contract killer (Park Hae-soo) who moves like the T-1000 and shoots like a henchmen in a Michael Mann movie. There are dystopian elements to the world -- protests play out in the streets, the police wage a tech-savvy war on citizens, automatic rifles are readily available to all potential buyers -- but they all serve the simmering tension and elevate the pounding set-pieces instead of feeling like unnecessary allegorical padding. Even with its long runtime, this movie moves.

STUDIOCANAL

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)

If a season of 24 took place in the smoky, well-tailored underground of British intelligence crica 1973, it might look a little like this precision-made John le Carré adaptation from Let the Right One In director Tomas Alfredson. Even if you can't follow terse and tightly-woven mystery, the search for Soviet mole led by retired operative George Smiley (Gary Oldman), the ice-cold frames and stellar cast will suck you into the intrigue. It's very possible Oldman, Colin Firth, Tom Hardy, John Hurt, Toby Jones, Mark Strong, and Benedict Cumberbatch are reading pages of the British phone book, but egad, it's absorbing. A movie that rewards your full concentration.

To All the Boys I've Loved Before (2018)

Of all the entries in the rom-com revival, this one is heavier on the rom than the com. But even though it won't make your sides hurt, it will make your heart flutter. The plot is ripe with high school movie hijinks that arise when the love letters of Lara Jean Covey (the wonderful Lana Condor) accidentally get mailed to her crushes, namely the contractual faux relationship she starts with heartthrob Peter Kavinsky (Noah Centineo). Like its heroine, it's big-hearted but skeptical in all the right places.

Total Recall (1990)

Skip the completely forgettable Colin Farrell remake from 2012. This Arnold Schwarzenegger-powered, action-filled sci-fi movie is the one to go with. Working from a short story by writer Philip K. Dick, director Paul Verhoeven (Robocop) uses a brain-teasing premise -- you can buy "fake" vacation memories from a mysterious company called Rekall -- to stage one of his hyper-violent, winkingly absurd cartoons. The bizarre images of life on Mars and silly one-liners from Arnold fly so fast that you'll begin to think the whole movie was designed to be implanted in your mind.

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Tramps (2017)

There are heists pulled off by slick gentlemen in suits, then there are heists pulled off by two wayward 20-somethings rambling along on a steamy, summer day in New York City. This dog-day crime-romance stages the latter, pairing a lanky Russian kid (Callum Tanner) who ditches his fast-food register job for a one-off thieving gig, with his driver, an aloof strip club waitress (Grace Van Patten) looking for the cash to restart her life. When a briefcase handoff goes awry, the pair head upstate to track down the missing package, where train rides and curbside walks force them to open up. With a laid-back, '70s soul, Tramps is the rare doe-eyed relationship movie where playing third-wheel is a joy.

Uncut Gems (2019)

In Uncut Gems, the immersive crime film from sibling director duo Josh and Benny Safdie, gambling is a matter of faith. Whether he's placing a bet on the Boston Celtics, attempting to rig an auction, or outrunning debt-collecting goons at his daughter's high school play, the movie's jeweler protagonist Howard Ratner (Adam Sandler) believes in his ability to beat the odds. Does that mean he always succeeds? No, that would be absurd, undercutting the character's Job-like status, which Sandler imbues with an endearing weariness that holds the story together. But every financial setback, emotional humbling, and spiritual humiliation he suffers gets interpreted by Howard as a sign that his circumstances might be turning around. After all, a big score could be right around the corner.

Velvet Buzzsaw (2018)

Nightcrawler filmmaker Dan Gilroy teams up with Jake Gyllenhaal again to create another piece of cinematic art, this time a satirical horror film about the exclusive, over-the-top LA art scene. The movie centers around a greedy group of art buyers who come into the possession of stolen paintings that, unbeknownst to them, turn out to be haunted, making their luxurious lives of wheeling and dealing overpriced paintings a living hell. Also featuring the likes of John Malkovich, Toni Collette, Billy Magnussen, and others, Velvet Buzzsaw looks like Netflix’s next great original.

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Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story (2007)

Oscar-baiting, musician biopics became so cookie-cutter by the mid-'00s that it was easy for John C. Reilly, Judd Apatow, and writer-director Jake Kasdan (Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle) to knot them all together for the ultimate spoof. Dewey Cox is part Johnny Cash, part Bob Dylan, part Ray Charles, part John Lennon, part anyone-you-can-think-of, rising with hit singles, rubbing shoulders with greats of many eras, stumbling with eight-too-many drug addictions, then rising once again. When it comes to relentless wisecracking, Walk Hard is like a Greatest Hits compilation -- every second is gold.

The Witch (2015)

The Witch delivers everything we don't see in horror today. The backdrop, a farm in 17th-century New England, is pure misty, macabre mood. The circumstance, a Puritanical family making it on the fringe of society because they're too religious, bubbles with terror. And the question, whether devil-worshipping is hocus pocus or true black magic, keeps each character on their toes, and begging God for answers. The Witch tests its audience with its (nearly impenetrable) old English dialogue and the (anxiety-inducing) trials of early American life, but the payoff will keep your mind racing, and your face hiding under the covers, for days.

Y Tu Mamá También (2001)

Before taking us to space with Gravity, director Alfonso Cuarón steamed up screens with this provocative, comedic drama about two teenage boys (Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal) road-trippin' it with an older woman. Like a sunbaked Jules and Jim, the movie makes nimble use of its central love triangle, setting up conflicts between the characters as they move through the complicated political and social realities of Mexican life. It's a confident, relaxed film that's got an equal amount of brains and sex appeal. Watch this one with a friend -- or two.

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Zodiac (2007)

David Fincher's period drama is for obsessives. In telling the story of the Zodiac Killer, a serial murderer who captured the public imagination by sending letters and puzzles to the Bay Area press, the famously meticulous director zeroes in on the cops, journalists, and amateur code-breakers who made identifying the criminal their life's work. With Jake Gyllenhaal's cartoonist-turned-gumshoe Robert Graysmith at the center, and Robert Downey Jr.'s barfly reporter Paul Avery stumbling around the margins, the film stretches across time and space, becoming a rich study of how people search for meaning in life. Zodiac is a procedural thriller that makes digging through old manilla folders feel like a cosmic quest.

13th (2016)

Selma director Ava DuVernay snuck away from the Hollywood spotlight to direct this sweeping documentary on the state of race in America. DuVernay's focus is the country's growing incarceration rates and an imbalance in the way black men and women are sentenced based on their crimes. Throughout the exploration, 13th dives into post-Emancipation migration, systemic racism that built in the early 20th century, and moments of modern political history that continue to spin a broken gear in our well-oiled national machine. You'll be blown away by what DuVernay uncovers in her interview-heavy research.

20th Century Women (2016)

If there's such thing as an epistolary movie, 20th Century Women is it. Touring 1970s Santa Barbara through a living flipbook, Mike Mills's semi-autobiographical film transcends documentation with a cast of wayward souls and Jamie (Lucas Jade Zumann), an impressionable young teenager. Annette Bening plays his mother, and the matriarch of a ragtag family, who gather together for safety, dance to music when the moment strikes, and teach Jamie the important lesson of What Women Want, which ranges from feminist theory to love-making techniques. The kid soaks it up like a sponge. Through Mills's caring direction, and characters we feel extending infinitely through past and present, so do we.

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