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wanderingmind867 · 1 month

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I revised my Justice League Canada concept to add a new character and rearrange some stuff. One problem: I don't have many women or east coasters, but I don't even know if this idea will go anywhere (so maybe it's okay for me to have gaps like that).

Justice League Canada: Originally conceived around 1988 or 1989 when the Justice League Detroit gets a mission in Canada. The mission goes well, and the Justice League gets some contacts in Canada. A year or two after this, the Justice League loses a fight in disastrous fashion and their public reputation sinks even lower. Knowing that the United States has turned on them, the Justice League use their connections in canada to keep the team running. Only one requirement: the team will have some oversight by the canadian government. Nothing too severe. But there will be some oversight and guidelines.

They serve as a Justice League branch solely isolated to Canada and (occasionally) the US states on the Canadian border. In those cases, they closely work alongside the revived Justice Society of America.

Justice League of Canada Founding Members:

1. Martian Manhunter (J'onn J'onzz): When the Justice League Detroit moves from Detroit to Ottawa, only two members of the Detroit team come to Canada: Martian Manhunter and Gypsy. Martian Manhunter acts as the team's leader again, the same way he did back in Detroit. He moves his private detective practice as "John Jones" from Michigan up to Ottawa, giving him a convenient excuse to be in Canada.

He's with the team for their first year or two. If this were an actual comic, he'd be on the team for the 10-15 issues. But after a year or two with the team, J'onn leaves to head back to the states. He's gotten an offer from Harley Quinn and Captain Cold to supervise their team of reformed (or semi-reformed) supervillians, and he couldn't say no to the offer. Especially since his brother was on that team.

2. Blue Beetle (Ted Kord): Ted Kord is known as the Canadian Bruce Wayne. Well, maybe not explicitly by that nickname, but that is the type of character he shall be. I wrote so much for his origin that it needed it's own seperate post/note. Which I did make. He's also just going to be a better character than Bruce Wayne, no ifs ands or buts.

3. Aqsarniit: That's supposedly the Inuit word for the Northern Lights. So that'll be my placeholder name (if not permanent name) for this character. They're some Norse and/or Inuit demigoddess or nature spirit with ties to the northern lights. I want something to match Wonder Woman, except with more of the beautiful mystique of the snow and aurora, as well as with more respect paid to the indigenous communities of Canada. I have a well formed image of this character because this is a character type already beaten to death (honestly), but I think we could find a way to make it unique.

Oh, one thing that makes them different: they're either gender-fluid or two-spirit or something. Being a nature spirit who looks like the personification of the northern lights, they don't really have any traditional gender.

Aqsarniit is a founding member of the team, but they aren't actually there very often (in those early issues, at least). Being a spirit of the aurora, Aqsarniit is often far busier with their own affairs then to help the league. Kind of like a combo of Thor and The Hulk. Like Thor, she's tied to mythology. But like the Hulk, they leave the team by Issue #2 or #3.

4. The Red Bee (Richard "Rick" Raleigh): Richard "Rick" Raleigh is a crown attorney in Victoria, British Columbia. Known for his brilliant legal mind and steadfast devotion to justice, the mob desperately wished to dispose of this man. They hired a mad scientist to help them kill Rick. This scientist decided to play upon Rick Raleigh's hobby of amateur beekeeping to kill him, in a bit of dramatic irony. He'd spray him with a shrinking gas and trap him inside his beekeeping equipment.

Locked inside the box where he kept his bees, Rick has to think fast and save himself from the attacks of his bees. And he does this in a most ingenious way. Rick tricks his bees into trying to attack him, and manages to get them to accidentally tip his beekeeping box over. Now that him and all his bees are free, Rick baits the bees into attacking the mad scientist and his goons. From here, Rick manages to find the antidote to the shrinking gas in the scientists pockets, and he becomes normal sized again.

But knowing that the gangsters who tried to attack him are still at large, rick begins working on a way to combat them. And he finds his way to do so. He manages to duplicate the growing and shrinking serums used by the mad scientist. He studies the communication methods of bees and learns to speak with them on at least a rudimentary level. He also builds himself a jetpack and a stinger gun (basically just a taser) to help him fight crime (both of these items shrink with him). Using all these skills, he manages to catch the gangsters by sneaking into their hideout in a costume! And just like that, The Red Bee was born!

I'd like to think that Blue Beetle and the Red Bee have a rivalry going on. They're both named after insects, and they both are founding members of the Justice League Canada. I think it'd be funny if there's some resentment between the two.

5. Captain Marvel/Shazam (Billy Batson): I saw someone say Captain Marvel was from Minnesota. I don't know if that's true, but I'm rolling with it. Mostly because I've seen jokes online before that Minnesota is the US state most like Canada (or at least I swear I heard that somewhere), and now I need to roll with it.

Captain Marvel/Shazam aids the team, but he's not actually living in Canada (like the other team members). Nobody knows why Captain Marvel isn't in Canada, let alone a Canadian citizen. Nobody even knows why he asks strangely naive questions or never stays around too long after missions. Well, maybe Martian Manhunter knows. But the secret is safe with him..

6. Gypsy (Cynthia Reynolds): I know that there's a good chance Gypsy was DC's ripoff of Scarlet Witch, so let's take it one step further. Let's embrace the mild plagiarism. Her and Red Tornado will have a brief romance (although theirs crashes and burns a lot faster than Vision and Scarlet Witch's relationship).

When the Justice League Detroit disbands, only three members agree to head up to join the Canadian branch. Martian Manhunter, Gypsy and Captain Marvel/Shazam. The rest of that team stayed back in the states or were otherwise too busy to agree to join the new team.

Additional Members:

7. The Angel of Dawn/Ange de L'aube (Samantha Guizzon): Samantha Guizzon is a highly skilled CSIS (Canadian Security Intelligence Service) Agent. She's one of their best agents, known for her skill with research, espionage and for her very detailed knowledge of non-lethal combat.

Oh, and she's also got metahuman abilities. She can generate and manipulate light. She got her nickname (Angel of Dawn) because she can use her light powers to form shining hard light wings upon which she can glide through the air. She can also emit blinding light from her body, not unlike a miniature solar flare.

Samantha was assigned to the team to represent Quebec and Canada's francophone community. The people of Quebec were deeply upset that the team had no francophone founding members, so the canadian government had to assign Samantha to the team to quell criticism. Originally from Montreal, Samantha is proud to represent Quebec on the team

8. Booster Gold (Michael Jon Carter): Michael Jon Carter is from Edmonton. But I get really bogged down in backstory. So much so that I had to give him his own seperate post/note. Because I wrote like 7 to 9 paragraphs, too many to share here (especially when I'm trying to write about a whole roster of team members here, not just one).

9. Red Tornado: Although not really Canadian (being an android created in the United States), the Red Tornado is asked to join the team as a personal favour by the Martian Manhunter. Moving to Ottawa and taking on a human identity as university professor "John Smith", the Red Tornado becomes the team's heart and soul.

10. The Geomancer: This is a placeholder name for now, but I have a backstory. Daughter of a PEI farmer, young Emily Harrison is a metahuman with the power to control earth (and more specifically, dirt and soil are her specialities). Emily took over running the farm when her father had to retire, and she now runs it with her dad's best friend, an old, burly acadian man named Jean.

Emily never intended to be a superhero. She was content to just till her fields using her powers, and never have to worry about anyone judging her for them. But then one day the Justice League Canada came to PEI. Because the villian the Justice League was chasing also kidnapped her father, Emily and Jean help the Justice League stop him. This brings her to the notice of the Justice League.

This later, when Martian Manhunter, Captain Marvel and the Angel of Dawn all take absences from the team, they ask Emily and Jean to join the team. Emily was pretty reluctant to join, until she managed to get a promise the league would send her someone to help with the farm when she's doing super hero work.

11. Jean Boudreau: Jean is an acadian man from New Brunswick. A while ago, he moved to PEI to get a job as a farm hand. There he met Emily's dad, and began working on his farm. When Emily inherited the farm, Jean has already been working there for 10 years. He knows Emily the same way he knew her dad, and he wants to help protect her from the judgement of the world.

When the Justice League comes to PEI to stop the villian who kidnapped Emily's dad, Jean is outraged. That's his old friend they kidnapped, and Jean will go to the ends of the earth to save him. Similarly, Jean follows Emily onto the Justice League when she joins them to help protect her.

Jean has no superpowers. He's just a strong, older man with all the physical abilities that entails. He does take martial arts training while he's on the league, though. He's also one of (if not) the only member of the team with no secret identity. He's just Jean.

12. Captain Newfoundland: There used to be a superhero called Captain Newfoundland in some old comic strips. I know little about him, but he looks super cool. And I want to take him, add some cool new details, and bring him to a wider audience. I'd add elements of Captain Universe and of The Phantom Stranger.

The last relic of an old alien race which came to earth eons ago, Captain Newfoundland and his kin were the original settlers of Newfoundland. Except back then, it wasn't Newfoundland. Back then, it was called Atlantis. This ancient race of star beings settled on Atlantis. They made it a paradise on earth, lush and beautiful. But then Atlantis fell to a massive volcanic eruption, and all of Captain Newfoundland's people either died or fled back into space. But not him.

You see, Captain Newfoundland was an exile amongst his people. He was friendly to the humans and animals of earth. He took it upon himself to watch over them and care for them. Since his people felt this made him too tender-hearted for his own good, they exiled him to the farthest tip of Atlantis. Funnily enough, this tip was the only part of Atlantis that survived the explosions. It never fell to the seas, and became the place we now call Newfoundland.

Nowadays, Captain Newfoundland is the humble protector of "The Rock". There's just one catch: he needs a host body. Kind of like how the Spectre needs a host body to do his thing, Captain Newfoundland needs a human host body to serve as a conduit between him and humanity. His current host body is an old Newfie, Brian Wellford (name subject to change if I think of anything better).

Captain Newfoundland is not a permanent member of the Justice League Canada. Kind of like the Phantom Stranger, he comes and goes wherever he's needed. Also, he doesn't often leave his stronghold on the east coast.

13. Green Lantern III (Guy Gardner): I actually like what I skimmed of Guy Gardner's backstory off of wikipedia. That being said, I'm still going to make a reinterpretation post. Because there's a few extra details I'd add to get him on this Canadian team. I'm not changing the core components, but I will mess around with his early life to get an explanation for him going from Baltimore in the comics to Vancouver (where I'll have him be raised in my reinterpretation).

14. Deadman (Boston Brand): Ala Hercules in the 60s Avengers, Deadman will end up lodging with the Justice League for around a year. For around 12-13 Issues, Deadman will just be a strange lodger at the Justice League base in Ottawa. Possibly exiled there, just as Hercules was? In any case, he will bring his unique abilities to the team for a brief time. And although Hercules is very silly a d shakespearean, deadman is someone almost nobody can see. So him being on the team could make for all sorts of clever ideas and stories.

15. The Question (Vic Sage): Vic Sage was a popular television host in the montreal area. He had his own investigative journalism tv series, syndicated both in quebec and across canada (since he was bilingual and proficient in both english and french). Besides this new angle of him being French-Canadian, I think his backstory would remain much the same as it is in the comics (I skimmed his wikipedia page earlier, and it seems his backstory is fine as is).

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dollarbin · 4 months

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Sandy Saturdays #5:

Fairport Convention's White Dress

Sandy Denny hated her return to Fairport Convention.

By 1974 the band had cycled through about 25 increasingly Tolkienish members in 7 years (seriously, I can think of 2 drummers, one of whom was about to be replaced, 2 bass players, 3 guitarists, a fiddler/mandolin savant and about 17 lead singers; and the only two women in that mix were the only ones without giant, hairy feet).

What's more, no one in the band understood Denny's songs, most especially her own husband; I mean just look at them; do they look like who you want backing up one of the best musicians in history?

The husband in question, Trevor Lucas, far left, was about 7 foot 6 (unlike his band mates, he obviously was not a hobbit; rather he's like a ranger that Aragorn would ditch at first chance) and knew a few guitar chords; he figured that qualified him to be Denny's producer.

What's more, Fairport in 74 wanted to rock while Sandy wanted to sway; the other band members knew Lucas couldn't produce pancakes for the breakfast table let alone a real band, so they turned away from their long term sympathetic engineer and producer, John Wood, and hired this guy instead:

That would be Glyn Johns, who had guided both the Beatles and the Stones to just about nowhere worthwhile, and who went on to dedicate his lousy career mostly to Eric Clapton (yuck; someone get Eric's slowhand offa my throat) and, you guessed it, Stephen Stills. Both men suck. Just look at Johns and Stills hanging out with two lesser losers:

David Crosby, second from left, is accusing Glyn, far right, of having a fake name (seriously: Glyn?) and of eating Crosby's pastrami sandwich to boot. Glyn, in turn, is pointing out that the sandwich is clearly already in Crosby's belly. Graham Nash, standing between them, is employing some of the Nonviolent Communication Techniques he has been trying to use, unsuccessfully, on his pet ferrets. And Stephen Stills? Standing at far left, he's clearly the true pastrami thief, plus he's stolen Graham's ferrets, and is opening his mouth to dissemble about it all while (covertly) passing gas.

To make matters worse for poor Sandy, when on stage Fairport Convention still rolled out the traditional rockified British folk songs that had made them all initially famous. "Forget the perfect songs you wrote on your first four records Sandy," they told her. "We need you to sing Child Ballad Number 69: The Undertaker's Loathsome Barrow, then stand aside while we lay out assorted French dances that will insure we never have a successful record; please, learn the lyrics lass."

Here's what Sandy had to say about it all afterwards:

"If I have to sing Matty Groves one more time I'll throw myself out the window."

Her quote would be funny if she'd had the life, and the band, she deserved, and had not fallen down a set of stairs to her death just a few years later.

But there is one moment in her second tenure with the band which documents the greatness of what could have been. Dave Swarbrick was capable of writing a song worthy of her voice and he did so just once in 74 with the simple and aching, White Dress.

Check it out.

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This video is a bit of the Holy Grail for Denny freaks like me: only the first minute of footage has ever emerged. Where is the rest? Happily some guy who surely lives in his mother's basement and is wondering right now when she will tell him breakfast is ready took the time to paste on still photos over the rest of the live take so we can hear everything and see how it started.

That's drummer number three in the opening shot, and Swarbrick stands behind Denny with the mandolin, grinning away at his good luck to have her singing his song. Sandy sets aside all her angst in this performance; she fills every available space with her grace and heartache.

Did Neil Young know about Denny's performance of this song before he wrote its natural sequel, Wrecking Ball, wherein his ladyfriend dons something pretty and white before they go dancing tonight? If not, Emmylou Harris certainly knew all about Sandy and the song before she sang Shakey's version. Just listen to the similar aching sway.

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I love Harris's performance here, but I get chills seeing and listening to Denny fronting the band in 74. I get a little weepy to. Denny died four years later, 46 years ago this Spring. She should be 76 years old today, singing to her grandchildren.

At least she's still singing to us.

#Youtube #sandy denny #sandy saturdays #fairport convention #glyn johns #stephen stills sucks

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haznolove · 2 years

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Hi ! Here you’ll find my favourite fics. I hope you’ll discover one or two ! Enjoy !! 💖

- What do you mean he’s coming? , MediaWhore (15K, GA). Love this one. Famous/Non-Famous AU in which Harry has to make a speech for Gemma’s wedding. He’s already having a hard time writing it when he finds out that Oscar Nominee Louis Tomlinson will attend the wedding. Absolutely love it.

- Three French Hems , 100percentsassy / gloria_andrews (20K, M). Oooh. Love this one as well (Yes I’m going to say that for every single one of them, sue me). AU in which Louis’ a well known Burberry designer and Harry shows up at different events wearing unflattering suits from Lanvin, Lanvin… and only Lanvin. So funny and sweet. Harry’s so endearing, and I’m obsessed with his and Louis’ dynamic.

- Barefoot in Blue Jeans , indiaalphawhiskey (24K, E). Hehe. Absolutely adore this one. AU in which Louis Tomlinson, famous footballer, hire an Au Pair to look after his son. Enter Harry. So sweet, I adore the complicity between Caspian and Harry. And Louis and Harry are just precious.

- Take My Breath Away , RealityBetterThanFiction (153K, E). It took me so long to read this fic, probably because I hadn’t seen Top Gun and only found interest in the Top Gun universe when I watched Top Gun Maverick. Anyways, Top Gun Fic for you. Louis and Harry’s dynamic is so interesting. I felt for both of them in their hatred/hidden relationship/forbidden relationship situation. It’s just so good. Read that in one night I couldn’t drop the phone. So good. Love it. Read it.

- burn this flame , rainbowninja167 (13K, E). I just had such a great time reading this fic. Harry is just so relatable and exactly like I’d imagine him. AU in which Football Player Louis takes part in a Charity Football match. He has to train Pop Star Harry Styles (and a bunch of other celebrities) to play football. The problem? Harry has absolutely no football skills. At all. It’s a fun ride. Also Harry has a massive crush on Louis but that’s neither here nor there.

- The Edge of the Stars , casuallyhl (16K, NR). What to say… what to say. One of my absolute favourites. Such a nice and sweet read. AU in which Louis and Jay sign up in the British TV Show Meet the Parents. Harry’s the one Jay has to convince to take Louis on a date. Won’t go into too much details, just read it. I love it.

- come as you are , stylinsoncity (77K, M). Ooooh *immediately starts sobbing*. Love this one. Teacher/Student (TA) relationship. In the author’s words, “both are caught in a story about forbidden love, loss and second chances, in which one is on the brink of heartbreak and the other comes along when he's needed most.” *starts crying again*

- Make Me Feel , bananaheathen (10K, M). This fic is so so beautiful. So beautiful. Famous/Non-Famous AU in which Louis’ a well-renowned sculptor in need of inspiration. He then meets Harry. Louis is so quiet and interesting. A bit difficult with Harry too. It was so nice to read their relationship evolve from their meeting to the breaking point. To them meeting again. Sometimes I reread it just because I miss the atmosphere of it. I just love it.

- interim , everysingleday (17K, GA). Ah… It’s not a happy one. I’ll tell you that. Louis helps Harry through his struggles. I cried so much, it’s so well written. They love each other so much and it’s so heart wrenching and beautiful to read. Anyways. Read it, but read the tags first.

- Darling, so it goes , disgruntledkittenface (195K, E). Grace Kelly AU (I still don’t know who Grace Kelly is after reading this fic but you don’t need to know who they are to read it, at least I didn’t, lol) in which Louis is Prince Louis of Monaco and Harry a world-famous actor. It’s them falling in love, basically. And Harry accommodating to the Royal Life. I love how they’re fighting through everything for their love. And to stay together. It’s just so pure. Love it.

- The One Where Harry Really Doesn’t Have Ten Cats , LoadedGunn (10K, GA). Hahaaaa. Love this one ! Famous/Non-Famous AU in which Harry’s a pet-sitter for celebrities. He ends up having to cat-sit Louis Tomlinson’s cat. Love Louis and Harry’s dynamic. Love Louis, love Harry. It’s just a nice read overall. I read it all the time, to be honest.

- Whirlwind , dolce_piccante (21K, M). Is it too much if I say again that I love it…? Oh well, I do. Famous/Non-Famous AU in which Harry, famous actor and Oscar nominee, struggles with finding a date for his big night. When his mother asks him who’s the last person he went on a date with he’s had the most fun, Harry reaches out to his prom date and first love, Louis. Louis’ the best and it flows so easily between the two of them it’s as if they never left each other.

Thank you for reading. Hope you found one or two fics you haven’t read before! Happy reading!

#larry stylinson #larry stuff #louis and harry #harry loves louis #louis tomlinson #larry fanfiction #larry fic #larry fic rec #fic rec #fan fic

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glitterarygetsit · 8 months

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I've said most of this on Twitter already, but here is my Obligatory OFMD Finale Feels post.

In short: I'm disappointed on a plot and character level and people are right to say it's ableist, but I mainly think the writers fucked up while trying to do something positive. A lot of this is conjecture, and it doesn't absolve the creators for making the mistakes they did or continuing to preach kindness and happy endings in interviews, but I think it makes sense and frames OFMD as an effort to make a show that is far more progressive than most other shows, but still really, really fucked up without meaning to.

Looking at the timeline, the show got renewed in June 2022, and was filming by September. The fandom has had a full year to explore Izzy's character and get more attached to him than the writers, who got about 3 months to gauge audience reaction and potentially rewrite his whole arc, could have expected.

I think the fact that the writers seem to have tried to give a fan favourite an arc in which he achieves happiness and self-actualisation is laudable. The problem is that in doing so, they made him even more of an avatar of queer and disabled survival while failing to change the endpoint they had planned for him. As a result, when he died, he wasn't just a complex deuteragonist with an arc that served the main story who saw the error of his ways, but a protagonist who had come to represent the themes of survival and acceptance that the show has embodied from the start.

The fact that s2 explicitly gave Izzy an arc about becoming disabled and coming to terms with it is what invokes the "bury your cripples" trope, and the idea that being disabled makes life not worth living despite earlier episodes (and other characters!) in the series explicitly demonstrating the contrary. If we look at his death as something the writers viewed as a fixed canon event, it's clear that they badly fumbled the ending, thinking they'd given him peace at the end when what they'd actually done was rip the prospect of more peace and happiness from him.

The way Izzy's death and funeral were handled--the in-universe inconsistency of having his fatal wound be on the left side, the cruelty of the British noticing his golden leg, the implication of something beyond the grave by having possibly-seagull-Buttons landing on his grave and denying us the closure of knowing that's the end, as well as separating him from his community and from his prosthetic were repeated slaps in the face that I see as the result of internalised ableism and trying to force a character that had grown beyond his original narrative purpose back into a predetermined fate. To me djenks' garbled rewriting of Izzy's relationship with Ed in interviews confirms that the character broke the bounds of its intended purpose and left the writers unsure what to do with him.

Ultimately, I don't think djenks and the writers intended to be cruel. I think they're the products of an ableist, racist, homophobic society with a lot of internalised prejudice who should have hired a disability consultant for their silly pirate show that unexpectedly punches far above its weight in terms of representation. Still, I can absolutely understand why viewers might feel that the failure to account for their internalised ableism is enough of a betrayal to stop watching. I do hope those viewers can still find joy and representation in the fandom going forward; if they move on to another show, our fandom will be poorer for it, and I think other fans need to recognise the hurt they're going through and use this experience as an impetus to create better-informed fanworks themselves.

I'm not especially interested in litigating whether OFMD signposted this from the start or is breaking or sticking to genre conventions or three-act-structures or whether it broke in-universe rules (it did, though. bite me.) Izzy's death was neither an inevitable beat in a well-told story nor evidence of an intentional shift towards Game-of-Thrones-style cruel and pointless deaths. They just fucked up, badly, and I hope they'll do better in future.

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd meta

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safereturndoubtful · 2 years

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Day 81 - at Mysuseter, Rondane National Park

Unenthusiastic about leaving that book, the warmth and the coffee.. that’s how the morning started. It’s understandable I guess on an overcast morning of 3C with the cloud and mist merging together to make visibility extremely limited.

In one ear I could hear the ghosts of the teenagers I had spent so many years on mountains with saying ‘What’s the point?’, in the other my mother saying ‘Take it easy, isn’t it time you slowed down, don’t forget how old you are.’

The solution to all this though is to get a dog.

This lethargy has happened to me innumerable times, and the dog effect always works.

In my mind I had already reduced my proposed route of the night before. But of course, once you’re out and moving, the visibility improves, the magnificent surroundings begin to work their magic, and you end up actually out for double the time and distance originally planned.

This actually happens quite often, and today was such a day.

Though Rondane National Park is not as untouched as the Parks further north, it does have wild reindeer, golden eagles, wolverines, bears, lynx, moose, but much further in than these outskirts where most mountaineers frequent. Rondane was Norway’s first National Park in 1962, and is about half the size of the Lake District. Most of the Park is above the treeline. Rondslottet is the highest peak in the park, at 2178 metres, and I was walking directly towards it, not that I could see it for most of the morning.

In the summer a bus runs to the conglomeration of huts that make up Rondvassbu, at 1200 metres, from which many valleys and mountains are accessible. Otherwise, along the road it is a 6.5 kilometre walk. On the opposite side of the Store Ula river which it follows, are a couple of tracks that can be hiked. Apparently at the moment though these are not accessible because the small bridge to them is closed. However, I cannot read Norwegian, and just ducked under the wooden bars.

Neither of these tracks are easy walking, as the are pretty flat, and often traverse bogs. This is labrador country. Certainly not Weston with a bad leg country, though that eased after half an hour today. So it was slow going, with a lot of looking down. But, as if ordered by some celestial power, the mist lifted, and even the cloud got higher as I got close to Lonin lake and the huts.

I had seen no one, but did run into a couple of hikers on the return; three young women having a long weekend at a cabin belonging to the family of one of them, and a young couple away for a wild camp, something they do regularly, but the first time for their lively 9 month old flat-coated retriever. In all we were out for just over 4 hours.

Something I didn’t realise, is that the route I took would not be possible after the weekend. The bridge across the river to the huts is a temporary one, and taken out every winter, otherwise it would be destroyed by the many storms that will shortly howl through.

To camp at the parking would have been appealing, but signs request you not to, so I retreated to the same place as I had been last night. Interestingly, the high parking, at Spranget, has mountain bikes for hire on an honesty system. Tremendous to see.

Back at Mysuseter I attended to some admin. When I left the van to prepare Roja’s dinner I noticed an English campervan had pulled in directly behind me; actually the first British number plate I have seen for months. Later in the afternoon we chatted, our dogs became friends. Ian and Sal are from Shropshire, escaped from London after retirement. They have been on the road for just over a month. We discussed the sort of thing that non-van people would find tedious; size of LPG tanks, gas fill up stations, recharging batteries, composting toilets… and a few other matters that would be of only marginally more interest such as the routes we had taken, and past and future trips with our vans. No doubt we will reconvene in the morning..

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hecatemoon87 · 2 years

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Hecatemoon87 Presents An Alternative Universe: Alfie Solomons

Chapter Four: Best Behavior

For more chapters - masterlist

“I’m fucking not going,” Alfie insisted again.

“Yes, you are,” Nailah said.

She was getting dressed behind a privacy screen. Alfie was sitting in a chair off to the side fuming at what she had just told him. She was invited to a ball and she wanted Alfie to attend it with her. The reason Alfie wasn’t happy about it was because some members of the RGS would be there along with other prominent British officials. A mix of people that Alfie did not care for and he was certain did not care for him either.

He was about to repeat what he had just said, but his eyes caught sight of the full length mirror sitting next to the privacy screen. Alfie could see Nailah undressing. Her delicate and curvy body was reflected in the mirror while she dressed. She was completely naked except for white panties and white stockings up to her thighs. Her ample breasts and pert nipples were on full display for him. Her smooth and unblemished light chestnut skin was slightly darker after her time in the Egyptian sun, but that made her all the more tantalizing. She didn’t know he could see her so she continued dressing without care.

“What did you go all quiet for? You seriously can’t be that upset,” she said, hooking together the straps of her bra.

“Um, just thinking,” he said, continuing to watch.

Nailah glanced up at the mirror and could see Alfie in the chair watching her.

“Oh, for goodness sake! Would you please give me a little privacy?” she said, coming out and pushing the mirror to the side.

Alfie chuckled and stood up to walk to the other side of the room. But then he remembered what she had told him and his mood darkened again. He frowned at the black suit she had laid out for him.

“Just get dressed already, we’ll be late,” she said from behind the privacy screen.

“I told you, I’m not going,” he said.

“Alfie, this is your chance to show that you are behaving. You need to regain the respect of others if you wish to rebuild your career,” she said.

He hated it when she made sense. Sighing heavily, he began to get dressed. By the time he was securing his tie, Nailah stepped out from behind the screen.

“How do I look?” she asked.

She was wearing a fitted slate-gray dress. It was tasteful, but showed off her shoulders and cleavage. Her hair was loosely pinned up and her make up was lightly done. Alfie couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Well?” she said, frowning at his silence.

“You look like an Egyptian princess, luv,” he said.

She blushed at his comment and walked up to him to adjust his tie.

“Please be good,” she said, smoothing her hands down his lapel.

“You know me, always on my best behavior,” he said, smirking.

“No drinking,” she said.

“Come on…”

“No. Drinking.” she emphasized.

“Alright, no drinking,” he said, unhappily.

The ball was being held at the British consulate. It was a large mansion style building, made of palm wood and limestone. The exterior was painted white to keep the sun from heating the interior during the day. It was evening, the sun just now setting and gas lights lit up the consulate. A large crowd had gathered and half of a chamber orchestra was hired to play the party that night. Trays of food and wine were being served and Alfie was very tempted to double fist two red wines at the moment.

As Alfie and Nailah walked in, they were giving looks immediately. Not unfriendly, but curious. Nailah smiled pleasantly, but Alfie remained stoned faced. He soon felt a hand fall on his shoulder and he turned around.

“Alfie? Alfie Solomons? Jesus, how are you?”

Alfie saw that it was an old friend and colleague, an American archeologist named Eric Bower.

“Blimey, Eric, I haven’t seen you in a tick,” Alfie said, grabbing the outstretched hand of the American.

Eric had very dark brown hair, large brown eyes and a pleasingly handsome young face.

“Yeah, it’s been a minute, who’s your lady friend?”

“This is Nailah Eidelberg,” Alfie said.

“Pleased to meet you,” Nailah said, shaking Eric’s hand.

“Some party, huh?” Eric said, looking around the room.

“Not my cup of tea,” Alfie scoffed.

“Yeah, I hear ya. You know, I was pretty surprised when they invited me,” Eric said.

Alfie chuckled, “They still think of you as the American “Cowboy” archeologist?”

Eric nodded and snatched a wine glass as it passed by on a tray.

“Yee-haw,” he said and took a sip.

As the evening wore on, Alfie tried his best to be polite and cordial to all the people that Nailah had him speak with. But when an RGS member commented on Alfie’s “wasteful expenditure of RGS funding” Alfie had to summon all his will power not to knock the old man out. As the old man turned away, Nailah rested her hand on his clenched fist.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered. “Are you alright?”

“Fucking angry, but I’ll get over it,” he muttered.

“Ah, Nailah,” a voice said behind them.

A strikingly handsome dark blonde hair and ice blue eyed man approached them. He was dressed in military attire, indicating to all that he was a British officer.

“Hello, William,” Nailah said, politely.

He smiled warmly at Nailah, but when his eyes drifted over to Alfie, William’s face darkened.

“Dr. Solomons, I presume?” he asked.

“You presume correct,” Alfie said, not liking this man at all.

“I’ve heard much about you,” William said.

“Bet you have,” Alfie replied.

“Nailah, darling, you should have told me you had returned to Cairo, I would have very much liked you over for tea,” William said, turning his attention back to Nailah.

“She’s been busy,” Alfie said.

“Oh? Has she now? I suppose the lady could answer for herself, couldn’t she?” William challenged.

Nailah was about to reply when a young couple approached her, the woman from the couple excitedly spoke to Nailah.

“Nailah?! Oh, you’ve returned? Come, you really need to speak with Mr. Carter,” the young woman grabbed Nailah’s hand and pulled her away.

“I’ll be right back,” she managed to say.

Howard Carter, the archeologist who had discovered King Tut, was the guest of honor that night. A group of people had gathered around him as he spoke of his findings, but William and Alfie stood in a deadlock.

“You know, Nailah really shouldn’t be associating herself with the likes of you,” William said.

“Right…and what exactly do you mean by that, mate?”

“Avrom Eidelberg might have been a respectable Jew, but that extension certainly does not apply to you,” William sneered.

“Anti-semite, eh? Well, that don’t surprise me, you look like a right cunt,” Alfie said.

William chuckled with amusement. “Stay away from Nailah and I won’t have to take measures into my own hands.”

Alfie moved forward to square up with William. The British officer stood his ground and stared back at Alfie, daring him to make a move. Luckily, everyone was distracted by Howard Carter, so no one really noticed the two men about to come to blows.

“You know, let’s address this like gentlemen,” William offered.

Alfie didn’t trust this man, so he waited to hear what he had to say.

“Tell me Dr. Solomons, do you box?”

Alfie still said nothing and just glared at the officer.

“Well, I do. I am rather good at it. What do you say to a match between us? If you win, I’ll stay away from Nailah. And if I win, you never show your face in Cairo again,” William said.

“Alright, when?”

“Tonight, one a.m.,” William said. “At the fort.”

“How do I know I won’t be ambushed, eh?”

“You have my word as a gentleman and if you like, bring someone with you,” he said.

Alfie nodded, “Fine, see you then.”

William smiled, but his eyes did not match the gesture. After he had blended back into the crowd, Alfie went to found Eric.

“You busy tonight?” Alfie asked.

“No...you sound like you have something interesting going on,” Eric said.

“That I do. I’m going to the military fort to box a fucking wanker, care to join me?”

requested tags - @quarterpastmidnight @rikki-b-lake

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons au #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic

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bang-and-a-blintz · 4 years

Text

Through the Darkness

CHAPTER TWO - DEJA VU

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Relationship: Dracula/Roxana(OFC)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,999

Holy shit it was getting hot in here, Roxana thought as she wiped her face with the crisp white towel and then tossed it on the table with a sigh. Even though it was starting to freeze outside, her kitchen was scorching. Absently, she hoped that the pipes wouldn’t burst again, which had already happened twice this winter.

All the food was prepped and ready for the guests that evening, she went through and turned up all the ovens so they’d be set by the time everyone would begin to arrive. Roxana glanced at the clock and then looked over the menu once more before grabbing her jacket and walking out back to smoke a cigarette.

“Well this cold weather can kindly fuck right off.” She grumbled, fighting the wind to flick her lighter. After a few more clicks and curses, she succeeded and took a long drag. She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes for a moment, leaning back against the back door.

It had been many long years of busting her ass to get to where Roxana was today: the proud owner and executive chef of her own thriving restaurant. She should feel carefree as usual. But there was just something off about this night, she couldn’t help but to feel on edge all day long and when she brushed it off earlier, she was unable to shake the intensity in which it grew.

Thus the cigarette. Roxana usually tried to moderate her vices, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t chief down almost an entire pack already that day.

“Bitch I thought you quit smoking!” So much for a moment to herself.

Roxana turned to see her sous-chef walking towards her, all bundled up so that no inch of skin showed, and he was shivering quite dramatically all the while glaring daggers at her. “Look at you being on time! Guessing the streetcar froze up and left your cheap ass with getting a cab?”

“Ha fucking ha.” He burrowed even further into his down jacket and impatiently waited for her to move away from the door, “That streetcar was packed up tighter than Cooter’s on a game night, baby, I nearly had to fight someone’s granpaw to get up in there. Honestly now, what could be so urgent? He ninety. Well? Are you gonna fucking get out the way or what, Rocks? I’ll be no use to you with frozen fingers, I’ll tell you what!”

She chuckled and tossed the butt in the trash before gallantly opening the door. He wasted no time rushing in and placing his hands close to the ovens. Al Patrone had been her kitchen partner at their previous job and if it had not been for his endlessly entertaining sass, she would have never made it in that horrid place. They became thick as thieves from years of bickering back and forth over the fires.

So it was no surprise that when Roxana told Al her plans to start her a new restaurant, he immediately pick up his knives and followed her out. Even though he had been with the establishment for nearly a decade, Al didn’t bat an eye when he gave them the finger and left. The owner was a xenophobic and misogynistic piece of shit anyways. Fuck him.

The idea was presented to her, Roxana somehow ended up in the right place at the right time, because that’s how these things usually happen. While she was throwing back tequila shots at the Monteleone, she met some famous actor - not that she gave the damn, his name was Tom…or was it George? - they chatted the evening away. The next day she invited him to the restaurant she had worked to show him some local cuisine.

Even though he was positively salivating over her seared pompano, the man constantly bemoaned to her about the lack of small and intimate restaurants in New Orleans. He wasn’t wrong. Most of the fancy to-do joints all sat three to six hundred people a shift and seemed to have a turnover rate higher than a pornstar.

The guy basically wanted a butler and in-home chef, but not actually be at his home. To all the peasants working in the food industry, the idea was laughable.

“Oh and how would I keep up the bills with serving just one table a night, huh?” She had huffed and signaled for another round of shots. “Seems like some whimsically ludicrous pipe dream to me.”

He had looked her dead in the eye, suddenly sober enough for the moment, “If you can cook the way you do in this shit hole, then darlin’ I can only imagine what you could whip up when you’ve got nothing holding you back. I know people who would pay the building’s rent in a single night after eating just one of your meals. I’m fucking serious.”

Who was she to deny that sort of opportunity?

Roxana had gotten a steal of a deal on the building and simply fell in love with the neighborhood. It was in the Irish Channel down closer to the river with a breathtaking view of the Crescent City Connection bridge. The property was an old Spanish colonial styled building with dark red stucco that faded in areas revealing the old brick beneath. High white arches lined the front entrance, the gas lanterns flickered shadows against the ceiling and danced when the large canopy fans spun lazily.

It seemed to almost slink into the darkness of the night, hiding in plain sight amongst the other homes on the street. The large and ominous oak trees stood guard out front, their branches were natural curtains and their roots fenced in the broken sidewalks like a front yard.

The interior was a stark contrast with light gray brick walls with natural reds scattered across, aspen wood flooring, and industrial piping that lined the walls with vintage light bulbs. Very bright and open in a comforting coffee-shop sort of feel.

There was just one large black table that severed the room in half. The chairs assembled around the exterior of the rectangle while the inside had a long walkway down to the front. Similar to hibachi-style but instead of the large grill top, there was an empty space that allowed Roxana and Al to personally serve each dish directly.

In the back, the kitchen gleamed and sparkled, the burners all neatly arranged on the large island in the middle of the room reflected the lights above and glimmered like diamonds. Roxana would meticulously scrub everything down every night before finally closing so it would always remain spotless.

It was simple and elegant, intimate and relaxed. She put her blood, sweat, and tears into the remodel and hoped beyond all hope that it wouldn’t all have been for nothing. Roxana had a strange sort of optimism about the project, something she had never felt before, and so she decided on naming her restaurant Sanguine.

True to her friend’s word, he made a few calls to some of his famous friends and told them to come down. One thing led to another and it blew up. These prominent and wealthy clients started to come in droves, they craved the exclusiveness, and they would happily pay beaucoup money for it. It all worked out flawlessly.

They decided on hiring just a hostess and valet, while Al helped Roxana run the kitchen and service. She took good care of her employees and in turn they treated her with the utmost respect, making sure that everything was impeccably done and ran smoothly.

That was three years ago and business was still very much booming.

“Are you gonna stop daydreaming and help me whip up these fucking cakes?” Al shouted over the music that he insisted on blasting full volume as soon as he put on his white double-breast chef jacket.

“Oh calm yourself before your sweat ruins my recipe.”

Al’s eye grew wide in offense, “My sweat would give this bland shit some real flavor, honey.”

Roxana barked out a laugh and grabbed a bowl. The two friends began to work together in easy synchronization. Shortly after, the hostess named Angeline peeked into the kitchen to tell them that the guests had begun to arrive and then returned to start seating.

Al finally turned down the tunes to a reasonable level for a restaurant, but there was still a ringing noise echoing in Roxana’s ear. She shook her head and pulled the amuse-bouche out of the oven.

They were having a smaller table than normal this evening with only five people, some local politicians that she had served before - the mayor, his wife, his popular defense attorney buddy, and two other names that she did not recognize.

While they put all the finishing touches on the first two courses, the chefs could hear the absent chattering and boisterous laughter of their guests. However, one voice in particular caught their attention with its luscious baritone.

“Well hello there.” It was slightly muted behind the walls but the British accent was unmistakable. Al looked over to Roxana and waggled his eyebrows, she laughed and waved him off.

“Good evening, sir, you must be Mr. Balaur. We’ve been expecting you, please come in!” Angeline’s cheerful voice lilted at a slightly higher pitch than normal.

Al elbowed Roxana, “You know what that means, baby girl, we finna have a looker!”

She wiped away a smudge on the plate before nodding in satisfaction at the finished product, “What about that frenchman with the yacht last week you were schmoozing?”

“Rocks, please, that boy was twink-city-slams and should’ve stayed over at Tulane by them frats.” Al finished decorating with a little dusting of paprika on the remoulade and sighed dramatically, “I have moved on to bigger and better. Just need to pop down to Oz and find myself a daddy.”

“What you need is therapy.”

“I already have a therapist.” Roxana rose a brow, her smile crooked goofily at her eclectic friend’s antics. Al popped a hip and gave her a look over his shoulder, “And her name is tequila, baby.”

She laughed openly and smacked him on the arm, “Alright, alright, let’s get this dinner going, you scoundrel.”

They filled their arms with plates and made their way towards the dining room.

With every step, the ringing in her ears grew louder and louder. Roxana frowned and tried stretching her shoulders to shake it off, but no avail. The two turned the corner and placed the plates down in front of each guest, then took a step back to politely let the clients quiet their conversations.

As the chatter died down, Roxana could still only hear the roaring sound that permeated the cavity of her brain. Her arms lit up with goosebumps. What the actual fuck is happening? Her mind was frantic as she looked around at the faces of those dining, a chill crept up her spine in anticipation, and the hairs on the back of her neck shot straight up when her eyes met the sight before her.

Then everything was silent. Save for her heartbeat, which suddenly spiked as if she took off for a marathon. Thump, thump, thump, thumpity.

“Oh fuck.” She didn’t even hear herself whisper.

But it caught the man’s attention and drew it from the woman seated next to him, his head tilted and ears perked at the sound of the beating drum within Roxana’s chest.

Slowly, he turned his gaze towards her with a lazy smirk that almost immediately slipped from his face as hers came into focus. His jaw dropped slightly, gaping like a fish out of water for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed and his dark eyes softened in wonder. “Agatha?”

#dracula x ofc #dracula bbc #claes bang #yay chapter two!#i got distracted with this mans face and forgot to upload #can't even be mad #through the darkness

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years

Text

February 12, 2020: 5:50 pm:

I just returned from running an errand in Dystopia, Grants Pass Oregon, where Socio-Terrific conditions exist to the extent that all of the inhabitants of Josephine County Oregon have all been killed and replaced with terror soldiers who compose a unconventional Christian army from Canada, under Screen Actor Guild leadership who are commanded by the British throne.

I went to:

Walgreen’s.

On the way, I encountered a terror representative from Josephine County Courts, someone from the Buck Baker terror cell, husband of Honorable Judge Lindi Baker who was killed in defense at the AM/PM Luke’s Arco gas station at some point about one year ago, specifics are available on this Tumblr account, search the entries.

That Buck Baker reprsentative was driving a large big rig truck, red, with low-bow trailer, and road grading machine loaded in the reverse direction. That big rig is known to belong at the Burton Mitchel Dietrick SAG heroin distribution terror cell at 601 “MyStreet”. Only a drive-by occurred while I was unlocking my gate to leave. There is almost always a terror soldier there to drive by as I unlock my gate when I leave my home, and serves as a warning, and a threat to let me know that the terror is everywhere that I am, always, day or night, and that they know where I am, at all times.

I also passed by Richard Chartrand terror cell at 376, where this car is only present on the day’s that I go to a pharmacy, or to my doctor. There is no other time that I have seen this car at Chartrand’s. This photo is older, however, that car was there, and I went to a pharmacy.

On the way, I encountered the usual suspects who come from the “Baby Shell” terror cell at Oxyoke & Three Pines Road, a British terror HQ, and those people, today was five cars, make sure that they get a visual of my position once they get the word that I have left my home. They need to make sure that I did not take an alternate route, which could spoil the Hit attempt planned for someplace along the way.

The usual vehicle came around Dead Man’s Curve at the same time I did, however, today was only a small car, and not a gigantic truck in my lane.

Only when I leave to town do I encounter vehicles at Dead Man’s Curve, never, on the return trip back home.4

There was a terror marker/communication at the freeway on on-ramp area, in the vacant dirt field on the Southbound side of I-5 exit 66. Two of them, some white cardboard boxes inside of some brown cardboard boxes, squished. Also,three small size traffic cones, each one standing on top of a dark colored cylinder shape thing. Those cones with cylinder were also present at a residence driveway on Monument Dr. across the street from where one of the county judges has a “Rental Home”. I forget which judge right now.

Those cones are there to tell terror assassins in the field, what kind of clothing I am wearing, and what terror assassin scenario they are running. Those small cones with cylinder, are a way of saying “Americone Dream”, is a flavor of Ice Cream, from Ben & Jerry’s. That, tells terror soldiers that the Lithia Dodge terror cell is in charge and are major players in the attack to kill me. Terror assassins in the field are instructed to take orders from Lithia Dodge with these cones, and other visual, physical markers in the town, distributed around the area, for communication.

More larger traffic cones were placed at the exits of both Rest Stops that are in between the exit 61 and 66, North and South side, each Rest Stop lined with trash can size Orange cones. Tells terror soldiers more about the “Americone Dream” Scenario, than I know about. I do know that those Rest Stop cones are the reason i was able to make the connection, the “Quantum Leap” necessary to recall the tweets that I included below. Had those large cones not been at the Rest Stop exits, I would not have made the connection to the Pope, or to BBC News. The reason, is the repetition, of a variety of cones along the way. The ones on the cylinders, those are there to remind the terror soldiers to think about the container that ice cream comes in. These are very subtle, physiological, subliminal messaging techniques used by Vatican terror. It’s very important that Public Safety people do not discount what I am explaining here.

This is not easy to explain in written words, so, I have to be confidant that someone who does global security work will take this as seriously as the terror army does.

All of the indicators included here and more, further translates to the idea that I will be referred to as “Jerry” in Blu-Tooth and face-to-face verbal communication. The Mark = “Jerry”, is what is going on with some of that comm, and inside information is required to know this.

Along Grants Pass Parkway, and on route to the Walgreen’s, there was a yellow short, school bus, beside me along the way, the bus was a brand new one, and was a Thomas Brand School Bus. That is communication to me, and to others that I am right beside that bus, and that the Bus, belongs to Honorable Judge Thomas Hull, Josephine County Courts.

At the Walgreen’s, the usual occurred, however, the white Dodge truck that speeds away was not present, and the white van that sounds an alarm when I arrive was also not present, until after a short time that I was already there. That white van I am not certain is the one that usually sounds an alarm, but is worth a mention.

Across from the Walgreen’s was a familiar part of today’s “Americone Dream” terror hit, at the donut shop parking lot, the scenario includes that there is some police vehicles, white ones, lights flashing, in the parking lot, with a man there who is being questioned, aggressively, by the impostor police, from a distance away from him, at gunpoint. That man has no shirt on, never has a short on when they do that, and is always in the Donut Store parking lot. That man is driving a vehicle that looks similar to my vehicle, and he is told to lay down. face down, on the black told surface of the parking lot there. I have seen that same man, same scene, same no shirt, same guns, same flashing lights, and even the same other cars that are parked at the parking lot, and more, dozens of times when I go into town that way, over in that area, near the Pacific Power HQ, and also near the Three Rivers Asante Hospital.

That scenario is part of a confusion service that the impostor police do, as part of the “Americone Dream” scenario, as well as other similar scenarios. Things like that donut shop activity are rolled out like small components to a larger system, just like any kind of thing that is made of components. It’s a “Plug-In” part to the “Americone Dream” that the Pope ordered.

At the pharmacy counter, there was a pharmacy technician helping the person in the drive-through. That pharmacy technician identified me to the person in the drive through, and to others who could here him. He spoke loudly. The way that was done, is with some “word magic”, alternative interpretive use of words.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a PREFERRED PHARMACY. You can get a DISCOUNT at your PREFERRED PHARMACY....”

“...PREFERRED PHARMACY...”

He said that about ten times in different sentences, loudly.

Translation:

Preferred = Pre + ferred

Pre = “First, primary, ahead, front”

Ferred = “Fur, hair”

The pharmacy technician told everyone within earshot, that the mark is in the front of the line, inside the pharmacy, with something interesting about hair going on with him.

I was standing at the counter at the pharmacy at that time.

Later, someone associated with a terror activity that is done by famous musicians and movie actors who come to Oregon on ”#SAGClubMed Heroin Junket”. The activity is called “Celebrity Death Match”, where a famous person has hired a fighter to engage in a fight to the death with someone who is not prepared for such fighting. That person checked in withe the Walgreen’s terror representative pharmacist there, and then looked at me real good, had a look, was informed that I was the mark. That person said “Forfeit”, and then the pharmacist announced that, with the words “Four Feet”, to cover what the fighter said, to hide it in some words.

The “Celebrity Death Match Fighter” decided he did not want to engage, and said so, to his people on comm, with that one word. “Forfeit”.

I have played this game many times, the “Forfeit” announcement happens often after the “Death Match” fighters have a look at me.

If you are reading this, and do global security, or other public safety work, and you choose to discount what I have explained here, you are a fool. But that is not all you are, because it’s real, and if you discount this, and I find out, I will suggest that you are part of the terrorism, if I am able to answer some questions about these entries officially. If your boss finds that you discounted this information, you may face charges of treason. and be ridiculed in your community for many tears to come. So, do not discount what I have explained here. There are no police to call on, and this and Twitter, are the only way I have found to get these reports to as many people as possible, to get some help. and to stop the mass murders, and to save lives of many people, and to preserve Freedom for everyone on Earth.

Please send help.

There is more to say, but I need to stop.

End terror reporting 7:35 pm.

==============================================

Also, these are the orders from the Vatican and from BBC News, to run that particular terror assassin play scenario. The terror bastards are Global, led from the Vatican, and supported on Twitter, to run prefabricated terror assassin scenarios, that all of the terror bastards globally, already know, and have practiced many times in successful murders of citizens world-wide.

These conditions and communication are extremely difficult to know. I know, I learned the hard way. That is why this information is very valuable to global security persons. These are real conditions, and will seem silly, or like they don’t make sense to anyone who is not a terror soldier. Extreme value here with this information.

This Tweet is the Pope’s order to use the “Americone Dream” terror scenario that all of the terror soldiers already know, and don’t need any more than that tweet to know what to do.

This Tweet from BBC News, helps to convey that they received and understand the orders from the Pope. The Pope sees this, and knows that the terror activity will take place as ordered. Other communication to terror soldiers in the field atre also contained in this Tweet from BBC News, Britain. to carry out orders to kill me. These are complicated matters, difficult to obtain, more difficult to decipher, and more difficult still, to survive.

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intothedanvers-e · 6 years

Text

Young, Dumb, & Broke

Word Count: 2.6k (whoops)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You just graduated high school and were ready to embark on your last summer of being a dumb teen and going on adventures before having to face the realities of the adult world. One day you were driving to a lake to meet some of your friends when your car broke down in the middle of nowhere. With no service and no gas stations around you wandered a little down the street and found one house where you went to ask for help. You expected to find an old couple living in the middle of nowhere, but a nice young British guy (Tom) answered the door. Due to unforeseen circumstances you spend the rest of the afternoon and most of the night together, but when it’s time to leave he says he wants to see you again. You exchange numbers with the cute British guy and embark on a long, secretive summer fling. You both lie about what you do for a living and what you were both doing in the middle of nowhere, but the moments you too bonded were all genuine. Will he find out about your plans after summer? Will you find out what he actually does for a living? Will this fling extend past summer?

Authors Note: Thank you for all the feedback on this series! So i think im officially commiting to updating this once a week on Tuesdays! Mondays are usually a drag for me so i end up finishing a bunch of writing anyway and it helps perk me up for the rest of the week! I know its monday but next week ill update it on tuesday :) if you have any feedback/comments or would like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know!! this chapter is a little longer but I wanted to sort of finish this part to move on to cuter angsty stuff ;) i genuinely hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoy writing it!! thanks for readin <3

Here’s my masterlist!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Chapter 4

You jumped up from the couch, your phone alarm startling you awake. You quickly turned it off trying not to wake up a sleeping Tom on the other couch. It was too late, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He smiled at you as soon as he saw you were awake.

“Sorry about that, I forgot I put an alarm on my phone so I can get up to shower. I didn’t mean to wake you up”

“S’alright. I should probably make breakfast before we go on and take a look at your car,” he said getting up from under his blanket.

“Oh you don’t have to come with me I don’t want- “

“Already decided!” he yelled as he walked into the kitchen.

He started playing music from a speaker as the sound of pots and pans being shifted around became louder. You quickly took a shower and came back out to meet Tom for what you thought was a quick breakfast. To your surprise he’d made a full spread; pancakes, cut up fruit, a ham and cheese omelet and some toast.

“Whoa thank you for breakfast,” you said sitting down in the seat next to him.

He just gave you a big smile considering he was already shoving things in his mouth. His hair was super bed-head curly and his eyes seemed sleepy but content. He looked adorable to say the least. You realized you were staring at him and quickly looked down at your various plates of food, quietly cursing yourself for staring at him for so long and hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“The car should be coming to get us at about 10, if that’s ok with you.”

“Do you mean like a taxi or something?”

“Uhh yeah,” he said quickly.

“You didn’t have to; I could’ve just walked.”

“Nonsense. Y/N when will you just let me be nice to you?”

You blushed and simply nodded your head. You spent all night trying to not be an inconvenience you didn’t even consider maybe he was just a really nice guy. He finished all the food in front of him and got up quickly.

“I’m going to go get ready before they come get us,” he said walking toward the stairs, “don’t you dare wash dishes, just put them in the dishwasher okay?”

You shot him a thumbs up and he disappeared up the stairs. 30 minutes later he walked into the living room as you were casually laying on the couch reading a book. You looked up at him and felt the butterflies again. His outfit was nothing special, a plain white shirt with regular jeans and a dark flannel, and his hair was slightly more tamed but just looking at him made your heart race. You didn’t want to admit it, but you may have a slight crush on him. You sat up as he walked over to you and plopped down on the couch next to you. He had a small box in his hands.

“I, uh, found an extra one of these in one of my suitcases. I ordered one online and they accidentally sent two. I was going to return it but seeing how much you like the character I really think you should have him.”

He handed you a tiny box with a Spiderman keychain in it. He was hanging upside down in his classic spidey suit.

“Oh my god this is adorable. He’ll look great next to my tiny Iron-Man. Thank you.”

“Just a little something to remember last night by,” he said looking deep into your eyes.

“How could I ever forget?”

He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. He looked at the watch on his wrist and stood up.

“The car should be here any minute if you’d like to wait outside.”

“Sounds good.”

He quickly grabbed your duffel bag and headed out the door. You were going to tell him you didn’t mind carrying it, but stopped yourself and let him be a gentleman. He locked the door as a fancy blacked out Range Rover pulled up.

“What kind of taxi service is this?” you said your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

“It’s not. He’s more like a, uh, chauffer?”

You turned to him and looked at him like he was crazy.

“What?!”

“Hey I’m not old enough to drive a rental car so, uh, my friend Harrison always manages to hire a chauffeur for if I need to get around places! It’s no big deal, I know the guy.” he said doing a quick handshake with the driver who had gotten off to open the back door for you. You climbed in the car shaking your head at Tom who got on the other side. Within a few minutes you were pulling up next to the mechanic. You could see that they were working on your car. You quickly thanked the driver and climbed off. Tom grabbed your bag and sent the driver on his way.

“Hey if I need you I’ll call you big guy. You’re the best man.”

They did their little handshake and he drove off. The both of you walked into the small office together. A middle aged man turned around in his chair to face you.

“How can I be of service to you today?” he said in a thick southern accent.

“Hi I’m Y/N, uh my car is the one that got picked up late last night. The small green one.”

“Oh that car. Got some of my best guys working on it, although I will say I do think you’d be better off selling that piece of junk and buying a new car little lady. Don’t know how much longer it’ll last.”

“I just need it to last through the summer.”

“Well let’s go ask Hal how it’s comin along and we’ll see if it’s even fixable okay lil lady?”

You nodded and followed close behind him, Tom close on your heels. You walked over to the car and saw that four guys were working on various different parts of it. The guy from the office was talking to who you assumed was Hal. You took a step closer to see if you could hear anything. Hal turned to look at you and extended his hand toward you.

“Hello ma’am I’m Hal, the best mechanic at this here Complete Auto Body. I take it this is your car?”

“I’m Y/N, yeah this is my baby.”

“Well no offence ma’am but I think she’s far gone. We can repair her for the time being and make her drivable but I think in about six months’ time you’ll be back in here with some irreparable damage. Might consider selling her off.”

“Six-month reliability is fine. I just need her to pull me through the summer.”

The guy looked at you confused and nodded. He turned to the three guys who were all hovering around your car.

“Well you heard the lady.”

They all went back to working on your car. The guy from the office walked you back into the tiny room.

“They should be done within the hour ma’am. If you give me a few minutes I can gather up a quote for you.”

You nodded and he left the room quickly. You and Tom sat on two chairs that were up against a wall. He turned to look at you and you realized he had a confused look on his face.

“What?”

“Why do you only need your car through summer? Are you planning on buying a new one?”

You looked down and started picking at your nails.

“No but, um, I’m moving away after the summer. I was planning on selling my car right before I moved so that I don’t have any more baggage that I don’t need.”

“Oh for like college or something?”

“Yeah kind of. I just need it to get me to and from work this summer. After my last shift I’ll drive it off to sell it and I’ll be done with this town.”

“I thought you liked it here?”

“I do, I guess. But I just need a change of scenery. Its home. It’ll always be home; I don’t think my mom wants to move anywhere else. I just need to not feel like I’ll be stuck here forever you know?”

He gave you an empathetic smile and looked like he was about to tell you something but was cut off by the guy walking back into the office.

“Here you go ma’am,” he said handing you a yellow receipt.

You smiled and looked down at the paper. You felt like your head was going to fly off your body.

“1500 dollars?!”

He walked over to you and began explaining everything you were paying for but you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. All you could think about was how big of a setback this would be toward you finally getting away from this town. You had just about 1500 in your savings account but that was going straight toward your moving away fund, or at least it was supposed to. You suddenly thought about the emergency credit card your mom gave you. She would probably be mad as hell if you used it but at least this way you could pay her back in payments and not all at once. It would set you back a month or two but you could continue to make the payments from anywhere in the world which meant you could technically still leave whenever you had enough money. You cut the guy off and stood quickly.

“I need to make a phone call.”

You quickly walked out of the office and dialed your mom. She was out of town and probably working but you had to try, you didn’t want her to find out about the credit card charge from the bank but from you instead. It went straight to voicemail. You tried a few more times with no luck. You decided to try one last time and this time it only rang once and went to voicemail. You decided to leave a message.

“Hey mom. So something came up and don’t panic but good ole Patricia took a beating last night. No it wasn’t a crash but she got pretty fucked up. Anyway unfortunately it’s about 1500 to fix her and, uh, I’m using the emergency card to pay it. Please don’t be mad. I’m going to pay you back every last cent, with interest if you want. I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up. Call me back. Bye.”

You hung up and groaned into the sky. This was just your luck. You wanted nothing but to leave and expand your horizons but something kept having you tethered here. Despite how nice and good you were to people, you always seemed to get the worst karma. While you were standing there feeling sorry for yourself Hal walked over to you.

“She’s all yours ma’am. My boys are just dustin’ her off for you.”

“Thank you Hal. I just need to go back inside and pay her off.”

“My pleasure ma’am. Be safe out there.”

He shook your hand and quickly walked off. You dug your wallet out of your backpack and walked back into the office. To your surprise Tom was standing in front of the man’s desk shaking his hand.

“Nice doing business with you kind sir.”

“Yeah whatever,” the man said handing him your car keys. He saw your confused expression and quickly pushed you out of the office.

“I have to, uh, pay him.”

“All taken care of Y/N,” he said pushing you toward your car.

“What are you talking about Tom? I can’t just leave without paying him.”

“It’s paid for,” he said using your key to open your trunk to set down your duffel bag.

“What do you- “

It instantly clicked in your head. Had he just paid 1500 dollars to get you your car back?

“Tom what the fuck?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you just pay 1500 dollars?”

“No.”

“Tom!”

“Not technically.”

“TOM WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Can you please get in the car and I’ll explain everything where 15 guys with heavy tools can’t hear us?”

You quickly climbed in the driver’s seat. Your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest and it felt like you were sweating bullets. You didn’t like owing people things, and you already felt like you owed Tom a lot for letting you crash at his place overnight; you didn’t want to owe him actual money at this point.

“I’ll pay it all back. We just need to go to an ATM so I can take the money out of my savings,” you said turning the car on.

“No Y/N it’s really not a problem. The guy was trying to scam you. While he was explaining everything you were essentially paying for, some things weren’t adding up. I know a thing or two about fixing and restoring old cars, and he was telling you about things that didn’t even exist. When you left to talk to your mom I asked to see the receipt and called his bluff. You really only owed him 650 dollars, so I decided to pay it off so you never had to look at that sleazebag again.”

You were trying to process everything he was saying, your head was spinning so much you had to pull over.

“Wait how did you know I left to call my mom?”

“The windows might have been open?”

You gave him a death glare.

“Okay look think of this as an investment. I could tell by the tone in your voice that you’re the kind of person who hates asking people for things, especially your mom. I figured you’d probably been saving up to move out of here for as long as you could remember and I didn’t want this to fuck it up. I’m investing into your future Y/N. I could feel the passion you had in your dreams from the way you talked about them last night in the pool, and I believe in you. I had the resources to help you, so I did. No strings attached. I just really didn’t want to see a bad thing happen to a good person.”

You sat there a second without saying anything, hands glued to your steering wheel.

“650 dollars is still a lot Tom. I can’t just accept that from anyone, especially someone who has already opened their home and risked their life to give me a place to crash. Let me pay you back, please?”

“Y/N I promise you you don’t need to.”

“Let me be your unofficial tour guide,” you said quickly.

“What?”

“Let me show you around, from the point-of-view of someone who knows this town like the back of my hand. Whenever I’m not working and you’re not busy I’ll come pick you up and we’ll go on an adventure.”

He looked at you and smiled.

“Deal. I was hoping this wouldn’t be the last time I would see you this summer.”

You pulled off the side of the road and began driving.

“Oh you and I are going to get real close this summer Tom. That’s my official Y/N promise, and I never break a promise.”

You took a quick glance at him and smiled, he gave you his signature goofy smile with a slight shade of pink in his cheeks. Your summer just got a lot more interesting.

Tag-list: @hollandlovely @greenarrowhead @justanotherfangirl2015 @oh-dear-tommy @marvelnerdxinfinity @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @hollandhugs @tiredofallthetroubles @marvel-ing-at-it-all @built4broadway

strikethrough means i cant tag you for some reason :(

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thatbluegibson · 6 years

Text

CH 58

The remaining weeks dragged by with both Liz and Dave immersed in their commitments. When Dave wasn’t at rehearsals, he was in the studio with Josh listening to the Vulture’s B-sides, jamming and woodshedding towards workable material. Liz had finished her dance lessons and was busy with the script details, reading and reworking her lines, building and researching her character and racing back and forth to costume fittings that had been moved to Portland for her convenience. They somehow fell into a steady routine of texts and brief phone calls, just enough contact to feel connected, but not nearly enough to dull the ache of missing each other.

Liz made a point to wear whatever Foo Fighters merch she had whenever she knew she would be photographed, purposefully overkilling it with a FF tour shirt and hoodie when she was invited to a Hollywood Vampires show. She had taken her father as her date and he had worn his well loved Nirvana shirt, purchased in January 1994 when he had taken Liz to see the biggest music phenomenon since The Beatles. The look on Johnny’s face when he saw Liz and her father backstage almost made her feel bad, he had invited her after all, but she wanted to be very clear about where her affections lay.

Dave had saved every paparazzi picture of her to his phone, looking back on them when he felt the urge to book a ticket to see her. She wore the same slight smile in every photo, one that rebuffed every question that was flung at her. Yes, he was still in her life even though they were thousands of miles apart. The questions flung at him, however, were a bit more intrusive and it took an exhausting amount of energy to keep himself from shoving an insanely expensive camera up these ill-mannered cameramen’s asses. How low does someone have to be to ask a man what his girlfriend is like in bed in front of his children? He remained poised and dignified, but was in the process of hiring more security to quell the onslaught.

Dave squinted down at his phone, trying to read the headline notification in the dimly lit parking lot. Liz had already left for England that afternoon, calling him from the airport to let him know that the studio had swung for a private jet and that she and Johnny would be stuck in a ‘fucking beer can together for twelve hours, so don’t be surprised if you hear he’s been murdered’ as she so eloquently put it. They ended the call with her making him laugh, a ‘miss you’ and ‘see you soon’, though Dave knew he wouldn’t be able to set foot on British ground until May and April was just beginning. His phone read that Liz had been spotted at LAX, but that couldn’t be right. She said she was going to Heathrow straight from Portland. There must have been an editing error…

“Hey!” Josh jogged across the parking lot from the line of bikes where a crowd had formed, “You have to come see this bike, man.”

Dave ashed his cigarette and followed him over, weaving his way through the leather vests and helmets to where Josh’s tall frame stood above the rest of the crowd. He looked over the bike in front of them while Josh practically giggled with excitement. “It’s a 1921 stock HD,” he explained and looked around, “never been touched and the chick that rode it in is a fucking stone fox.”

Dave admired the bike’s fairly pristine condition and wondered if it was a barn find when he heard her laugh through the crowd. She had that loud, melodic, unrestrained and genuine laugh that was almost a rarer find in LA than the bike in front of him. He turned towards the sound and spotted her a few feet away with her back to him, surrounded by several people in matching leather vests as they gradually made their way towards the back door of the bar.

Josh followed his stare and nodded to her. “Yeah, that’s her. She rode up on this. She’s a babe as is, but with this bike? God damn.”

“She’s… she’s something,” Dave said quietly. He recognized her leather leggings, high top Vans and cropped leather jacket from the night he met her, though she was wearing a loose white shirt this time. She walked with the small group of men in leather vests letting them go inside without her while she hesitated at the back door.

“Dude, she’s alone. Go talk to her into going home with you,” Josh nudged him with his elbow.

“I don’t know, man,” he tried to hide a smile as he watched her tap out a text on her phone, “She seems like she’d kick my ass just for suggesting it.”

“Fuck, dude,” Josh pinched a cigarette between his lips and lit it, “A girl that hot? I’d pay her to kick my ass.”

Dave felt his phone buzz in his pocket and before he fully realized what he was doing, started towards Liz. She was still engrossed in whatever was on her phone screen, not bothering to look up until he was almost on top of her. Her face broke into an elated smile in the split second before he shoved her against the brick wall and kissed her. She giggled happily against his lips, gasping when he pinned her against the cold brick with his upper body. He whispered to her between kisses, I missed you, so much, I missed you. He had only meant to surprise her, kiss her quickly and then ask what the hell she was doing in LA, but the moment she put her arms around him all he could think about was getting her out of there and to the nearest bed or backseat. Damnit, why didn’t he drive the van? She was all dark red hair, vanilla chapstick, leather and skate shoes, and she was all over him. She tangled her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck and it all felt remarkably similar to the night at the Roxy when he kissed her behind the equipment boxes.

“Let the poor girl breathe, Dave!” Josh yelled from the row of bikes in the parking lot.

Dave felt Liz’s right hand leave his neck, probably to flip Josh off, but she pulled away from him anyways.

“You’re supposed to be somewhere over Canada right now,” he whispered, still holding her head in his hands.

“The studio wanted a meeting in LA before we left, so I’m here until tomorrow night,” she looked unsure, as if he wouldn’t be completely thrilled that she managed to swing some time with him.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked. He had called Josh after talking to Liz, afraid to be alone with his thoughts while knowing she was trapped in such close quarters with Depp.

Liz blushed a little and looked down at her shoes, “Taylor helped me out.”

Dave grinned at the thought of Liz and his best friend planning all this behind his back and leaned in to kiss her again, but she pressed her hands against his chest to stop him.

“I’m gonna go so you can hang out with your friends, but I just wanted to see you before I left,” she whispered and tried to side step away.

“You just got here,” he quickly moved to grab her hips in case she made a break for it. If she was going to leave, he was going with her and fuck everyone else.

Liz looked over his shoulder as another group of motorcycles rumbled into the parking lot, momentarily pausing to stare at a stunned Josh, “No, I should really go,” she forced a smile, “My flight isn’t until nine so I can see you tomorrow if you’re free.”

“Please stay” he leaned down and softly kissed her neck, smiling when she whined at the feeling.

“Dave, it’s the Rainbow,” she sighed, more out of pleasure than annoyance, “No one wants their girlfriend lurking about here.”

“Do you think I have a herd of groupies in there waiting for me?” he leaned back a little to see her face.

Liz shrugged, “I don’t know what you get up to when I’m not around!” she laughed when he glared at her. “Fine. I’ll stay for one beer. One.” She held her finger up in his face to drive her point home, but Dave shoved her hand away and kissed her again while running his hands down her sides to feel her pockets for her keys. Finding them tucked into her jacket, he shoved them into the front of his jeans before unceremoniously pushing away from her and walking towards the bar’s back door.

“Honestly David, that’s not much of a deterrent,” she called after him before he disappeared into the dark doorway. She leaned back against the wall again to catch her breath and maybe warn Andy that she would be staying longer than originally planned.

“So do you two know each other or is that how I should introduce myself as well?” Josh called from his spot further away.

“I’d say it’s my preferred greeting method, but I’m scared to death of your wife,” she replied and finished her text to Andy, looking up when he came closer to her.

Josh exhaled sharply in a laugh, blowing smoke from his cigarette above his head, “Yeah, I’m scared of her too. Mean as hell, that one.”

Liz smiled, she liked Josh already, and held her hand out to him, “I’m Liz.”

“Ah, the muse I’ve heard so much about,” he shook her hand and ignored her raised eyebrow, “I’m Josh. So, doll,” Liz tensed at Josh’s endearment, “tell me how you came across that cherry over there.”

“It was my grandfather’s,” she replied, following his gaze out to her bike, “He was a big Harley fan.”

He narrowed his blue eyes at her, “And those guys you rolled up with? They with you?” Josh nodded to the line of bikes next to hers, all with club insignia on the gas tanks.

“Maybe,” Liz said quietly, wary of where this conversation was headed.

“And you are…?” he asked, tossing his spent cigarette to the pavement.

“Just the granddaughter,” she smiled and looked away, feeling like she was being tested. Most riders were aware of the Hell’s Angels, but only some were aware of her grandfather’s club and its contribution to bike culture.

Josh leaned an arm against the wall next to her, well aware that their close proximity was making her uncomfortable, “The Jokers have been through here.”

Liz’s eyes snapped back up to his. “That’s fine,” she lied. The old timers at the club house had warned her that the rival club was around when she had showed up to get Pop’s bike out of storage, but she had thought nothing of it. She wouldn’t be wearing anything to announce her affiliation with Pops and the club, but the standing club president would only let her go with the promise that she would take some of the younger club members with her, just in case. It had taken the better part of an hour to convince Andy that she could go to The Rainbow alone, so she was furious that eight members were on her tail the entire ride over. She tried to lose them at least three times, but the vintage Harley was no match for the newer models they were on. Fortunately, they were more interested in the beer and meeting the rock stars inside the bar than watching Liz make out with her boyfriend in the parking lot.

A ripple of excitement moved through the crowd at the Rainbow, indicating someone noteworthy had arrived and was making their way towards the bar. Dave ignored the hushed whispers and continued to wait for the bartender when Josh casually strolled through the parted crowd with Liz under his arm.

“Asshole,” Dave laughed as Josh led Liz right past him.

“Any unattended female property will be claimed by me,” he yelled over Liz’s head.

Dave expected her to drive her elbow into Josh’s ribs, but she just shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and grinned at him.

With the beer finally acquired, Dave found them at a spot against the far wall. Liz was intently watching the people around her while Josh was engrossed in a conversation with a man that Dave vaguely recognized as a session drummer.

“You okay?” he asked her, handing her a bottle.

“Just fine,” she smiled, but it didn’t meet her eyes. He slipped his arm around her waist and felt her relax against him before turning to face him. “I feel bad that I crashed your night out. I really should go.”

“The only way you’re leaving is on the back of my bike” he laughed, but he couldn’t figure out why she was trying to get out of there so badly.

Liz snorted a laugh at that and took a quick drink, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I never ride bitch on a bike.”

He frowned, a little disappointed that she would never wrap her arms around him as they flew down the highway, but he would gladly take the second best option. Maybe they could go on a ride before she left for England, take the bikes out towards the desert and he could stare at her through his rear view mirror again.

“Dave!” Liz just about jumped out of her skin when a man yelled just feet away from them. “Long time no see!”

“Hey, man!” Dave released Liz to shake Paul Stanley’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in a while!” Really, it had only been a few hours. They had nodded to each other from their respective vehicles while picking up their kids from the same school.

“We have a table over here!” Paul waved as an invitation to join him and led them to a large corner booth where several other people were sitting. The introductions went as most Hollywood ones do, an acknowledging nod that said, yes, I already know who you are, no need to tell me your name or what you do. The booth was full to the point that Eric Singer was practically falling out into the walkway, so Dave snagged a couple chairs from the wall and lined them up in front of the table. He set one close to Eric in hopes he would assume it was for him, biting back a smile when he took the bait.

“Thanks, man!” Eric called, stopping short when he saw Liz. “I know you.”

She innocently shrugged and took a drink of her beer while Dave settled into the chair behind her. “I think we’ve met briefly, yeah.”

The realization spread across Eric’s face and he slapped the table loudly, earning the full attention of every one at the table. “You’re the one with the bar!”

Liz’s eyes darted around the table, completely embarrassed that everyone was now staring at her. “That’s me!” she said meekly, looking back at Dave when he tugged on her arm and quickly sat on his knee.

“She owns the coolest little beach bar where Tommy’s got a place,” Eric explained to the rest of the table then laughed loudly. “Remember that night we got blackout drunk with Tommy and landscaped his house?”

Dave remembered Krist pointing out Tommy Thayer’s house while Liz shook her head. “I don’t recall much of that night, honestly,” she laughed.

She fell into a conversation with Eric about Tommy and her little beach town while Dave casually ran his hand up her back between her leather jacket and shirt. He felt her shiver at his touch and watched as her knuckles turned white around her beer bottle. His fingertips made it to the base of her shoulder blade when he realized she had apparently been in such a hurry that she had forsaken her bra. She raised an eyebrow at him when he shifted her on his leg, fully realizing how long they had been apart by the way his body reacted to hers.

She leaned into him, only worsening matters when her lips brushed against his ear, “I’m only here for a few hours, Dave. I wasn’t about to spend any of it tangling with a fucking bra.”

Yep, he thought, leaning back to look around for an exit, that’s it. We’re leaving. If we hurry we might make it upstairs, otherwise the bathroom would have to be romantic enough for her.

Liz shifted her hips a little and her eyes darted down. “Wait... if that’s not... where are my keys?,” she murmured.

“So!” Paul leaned across the table, interrupting several different conversations that were happening around him and snapping Dave and Liz back to attention. “How did you two lovebirds meet?”

Liz, now aware that Dave was in distress, took initiative, “A mutual friend introduced us.” She leaned forward as if she were trying to hear Paul better and in the process positioned her ass right over the bulge in Dave’s jeans. His right hand slammed into her hip to hold her still, his fingers digging into her so hard that even through the leather leggings, she knew he was leaving a bruise. She feigned ignorance and continued speaking with Paul about her Oscar and the upcoming school fundraiser he and Dave were working on while occasionally wiggling her hips. Eventually a waitress appeared with a full tray, forcing Liz to sit upright so she could place the fresh drinks on the table.

“Liz, darlin',” she was surprised by Josh’s voice and glanced over to see that he had pulled up a chair next to Dave. “You can’t kill him right now. Everyone is going on summer festival tours and no one will make it to his funeral.”

“That’s fine,” she laughed and Dave groaned, his fingers tightening even further around her hip bone as she slid herself back to his thigh, “Taylor looks really good in black so everyone will be staring at him and not the lack of mourners.”

“I don’t know, doll,” Josh made a scene of looking her up and down, “You might give him a run for his money.”

“You wanna be my date?” she kept her eyes on Josh as she took a drink of her beer.

“God, yes,” he took her free hand and kissed her knuckles, “You can cry on my shoulder all you want, kitten.”

“Hey, assholes,” Dave finally said, making no attempt to hide his smile, “I’m right here.” He was relieved they were getting along so well. Josh could be incredibly intimidating with his brash humor and dry wit, but Liz had easily matched him.

“Right, right” Liz pulled her hand away from Josh to put it around Dave, kissing his forehead in the process, “Not in front of the corpse.”

“Lucky fucking stiff,” Josh grumbled with a grin and stood from his chair, shaking his head in mock defeat as he wandered off into the crowded bar.

Liz finished off her beer and pried Dave’s fingers off her hip so she could stand. He stared up at her with an exaggerated pout and she rolled her eyes.

“I said one beer and then I was leaving.”

“Then you shouldn’t drive,” he tugged on her arm, but she stood firm.

She was just about to throw a smart comment back at him when Josh burst back through the crowd and threw his arms around Liz. His eyes were wide and his voice was urgent, “You should tell me more about your bike!” he yelled and hurried her towards the back of the bar. Liz dutifully followed, looking back at Dave’s confused face that matched her own. She had to trot to keep up with Josh’s determined gait, sensing that whatever he was up to was in her best interest.

“Yo, brother!” a raspy voice echoed down the long hallway just as Josh and Liz reached the back door.

They both stared down at Josh’s tattooed and ringed fingers hovering over the door handle and listened to the heavy boot steps hurrying their way.

“Whoa! Who’s this little snack?”

Josh let out a long breath and squared his shoulders, catching Liz’s eye as he turned her around. She recognized something in his look, a silent plea to just go with it, stay cool, stay calm and she steeled herself against the unknown behind her.

“This is Liz,” Josh gently squeezed her, keeping his arm tightly around her shoulders.

She forced a smile at the man in front of her, one she recognized as a musician that traveled in the same orbit as Dave and Josh. He stared at her through red tinted glasses, clutching a generic canned beer and swaying on his steel toe boots. Liz could tell he had just arrived on a bike, the smell of gasoline tinged exhaust was strong on his denim vest and his fair hair was matted from his helmet.

“Well hello, little lady!” he drawled, dragging his eyes down her body as he took a long swig of his beer. “Brody’s going to kick your fucking ass,” he said to Josh as if Liz wasn’t there. “I’m Jesse,” his boot clicked on the parquet flooring as he stepped forward and offered his hand. She hesitantly shook it and roughly cleared her throat when he lifted her arm to kiss her wrist and eye her feather tattoo.

Josh gritted his teeth and adjusted his arm so that his hand was gripping the nape of Liz’s neck. “We were just headed for a smoke,” he said, his voice dripping with an underlying ‘fuck off’ tone, but Jesse was already too drunk to notice.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Jesse slurred, glancing behind him at the packed bar. He had turned just enough that Liz could see the back of his denim vest was covered in motorcycle club patches, a large green and white oval showcased in the center. Tunnel vision set in and she stepped out of Josh’s hold to get a better look. The patch portrayed a graveyard landscape in green embroidery. The foreground had a freshly dug plot and a man dancing happily atop it next to a bobber style motorcycle. In the background, a severed head was held aloft, green threaded blood dripping down towards the patch’s border and a line of men saluting with their middle fingers. Jack’s Jokers was in a bold script at the top, though the thread used there was black. The edge of Liz’s vision tinged a dark red and her fists balled up at her sides just as Josh threw both his arms around her and pinned her to the wall.

“Yeah, man!” Jesse cheered, misinterpreting Josh’s movements as amorous instead of preventative. He set off down the hallway, but called back as he reached the threshold to the bar, “Don’t wear her out, man! You know how much I love groupies!”

Liz felt a small, but distinct snap deep in her chest and she bounced a little in Josh’s arms. “Fuck you!” she screamed, wiggling her arm free to point a black fingernail at him.

Jesse stopped short and spun around, a menacing smile on his face. “Oooo… I like my women mean,” he shot back.

“Then you’re in luck, mother fucker,” she spat at him, only faintly aware of Josh whispering directly into her ear in an attempt to calm her down. “Cause I’m about to fucking kick your bitch ass all over this shit hole.”

“Are we going to have a fucking problem?” Jesse walked slowly back towards them, his eyes locked on Liz.

“We already have a fucking problem,” she glowered. “I’ll be out back.” She roughly shoved Josh’s arms away and kicked open the back door as hard as she could, sending the metal clanging against the cinderblock wall.

“Liz!” Josh ran after her, stopping her with an arm on the shoulder. “He’s a fucking asshole, okay? But you have to let this one go.”

“Fuck that guy!” Liz huffed, pointing back to the bar. Seeing that patch had thrown her into another dimension of anger. The club didn’t have a rival, per say, but her grandfather had evicted some men from the brotherhood citing a rumor that they were dealing under the club’s name. They then went on to found ‘Jack’s Jokers’ and mock her grandfather’s legacy, specifically by depicting him as a disembodied head with a desecrated grave for good measure. The back door flew open again, making Josh and Liz jump. Several drunk men lined up against the wall and pulled out packs of cigarettes as Josh dragged Liz further into the dark back lot.

He held Liz’s arms and bent low so he was eye level with her. “I get why you’re pissed, but Jesse-“

They both looked over as Dave’s voice boomed across the dark parking lot. “Liz!” He sounded pissed.

#dave grohl fanfiction #dave grohl fanfic #dave grohl fiction #thatbluegibson

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wanderingmind867 · 1 month

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Justice League of Canada Founding Members:

Additional Members:

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wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey · 6 years

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Gotham 4x12 (*shrieks* SPOILERS)

Before we begin can I just say that Bruce better shape the heck up by the end of this episode and apologize to Alfred. And Harvey and Jim better make up

-Jim goes into a "respectable establishment" and I keep missing the name of the guy he is looking for because I keep getting distracted by his rough voice

-Oh Waaaait he was looking for Harvey :( he misses his brother :(

-aaah the birth of Poison Ivy. Tag yourself I am both the guy who says what the and the girl who is like DON'T TOUCH IT YOU FOOL

-NOOOO Alfred is haunting a diner because he has nowhere to go because my poor stupid lost son Bruce kicked him out

-sidenote: as cool as Jim's voice is, Alfred's voice is 10000000 times cooler

-uh oh these fools are gonna pick on Alfred. They are sooo going to regret that

-Lee being a leader and telling the people of the Narrows that they need to band together is da best and

-I like Ivy's voice too...OMG she just turned a guy into mOSS

-ALFRED SCHOOLING THE THUGS IN BRITISH LITERATURE IS EVERYTHING BUT THEN

"Wallet, watch, jewelry"

"Absolutely NOT. I mean, you're a big man, but you're out of shape. And what, you're three beers in already?" BAHAHAHAHA THEN HE JUST DESTROYS HIM

-the other guys are lucky that Jim shows up before Alfred can rearrange their faces too

-AAAAAH NOO THE LOOK ON ALFRED,S FACE WHEN JIM ASKS IF BRUCE IS WITH HIM :( he is upset and almost ashamed looking (maybe for Bruce? Or for himself because he wasn't able to father/guide/guard Bruce like he wanted to? UGH

-Alfred trying to be like yeah it's not such a terrible place to live, rent is cheap, and Jim's face and inflection of one in "You live here?" It's just like wtf happened when I was busy being hoodwinked by Sofia?!

-Ed being super impressed by Lee is my favorite thing look at his smile

-BOMB

-OMG WAIT WE HADN'T EVEN REACHED THE TITLE CARD YET THIS EPISODE IS GONNA BE LIT

-Lucius Fox is super brilliant I love him

-Jim is worried about whatever the heck is going on with the Alfred and Bruce situation and he promises to call Alfred and gives him a pat on the back and it just kills me because look Alfred is a bit of a recluse and for the past few years has lived almost solely for Bruce Wayne and like does he have any friends really? He has nowhere to go and no one to talk to :( please remember to call him, Jim

-LOOK I KNOW IT WON'T FREAKING LAST BECAUSE GOTHAM HATES LETTING US HAVE NICE THINGS BUT I LOVE ED SUPPORTING LEE AND I LOVE HIM PACING THE FLOOR FURIOUS THAT SOMEONE TRIED TO KILL HER (

-MY NAME IS BUTCH. BUTCH GILZEAN. OOPS

-omg Alfred is now the hero of the Narrows diner lol getting free drinks and the guy who just tried to mug him is like MAD RESPECT dude like you ran into a burning building to save people you ROCK and Alfred is like ?? ? Right, um, friends?? Aww and shares a drink with him

-Alfred then notices the waitress has a bruise on the side of her head. That she lies about. Someone is going down later, I can sense it

-lol Lucius and Jim on the case

L: you got a hunch

J: no, just a bad feeling

*creepy toy moves and makes a noise*

J: of course I'd happily be wrong

L, in a tone of the utmost disgust: who buys these things

-LUCIUS IS SO dONE WITH ALMOST GETTING MURDERED BY TOYS

-young guy: I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT MY FATHER WAS DOING

Jim, in THE flattest voice imaginable: there's a machine gun built into the wooden hand of this nutcracker here. Excuse me if I find that hard to believe

-ivy waking up in a new body with new powers and the first thing she does is find a sparkly dress and open a pint of ice cream nice

-uh-oh, wayne enterprises had a gas leak, betcha Ivy's gonna go after the company later!

-after she goes a after the sirens?! Wait does she hate all of them or does she remember that Selina is her friend?

-this girl is in love with Alfred's accent and I'm like SAME

-also I can promise you that Alfred is fixing to beat up the girl's abuser just watch

-EXCUSE YOU GOTHAM HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME CRY OVER ALFRED'S FRIENDSHIP WITH AND LOYALTY TO THOMAS WAYNE UGH MY HEART I NEED 575498 FANFICS ABOUT THIS AND I ALSO NEED BRUCE TO SHAPE THE HECK UP AND SEE EXACTLY HOW MUCH HE HAS HURT ALFRED AND HOW HIS DAD WOULD BE DISAPPOINTED IN HIM FOR THIS NOT FOR THE OTHER STUFF AND WHYYYY I CAN'T THE FEELS

-UGH HE TRIED ALFRED TRIED :(

-Lucius, sees poison ivy flourishing in a dead man's body: fASCINATING

Me: ... ... ..Gotham is a strange place with strange people

-OMG BRUCE IS BEING A COMPLETE IDIOT AND SELINA IS LIKE WHAT THE HELL. WHAT THE ACTUAL F. BRUCE WHAT ARE YOU DOING UGH

SHE SEES HIM AND SHE KNOWS HIM AND SHE KNOWS THIS IS LITERALLY THE OPPOSITE OF THE TYPE OF PERSON HE IS IN HIS HEART AND SOUL I HOPE SHE CALLS HIM OUT EVERY DAY TILL HE WAKES UP

-I can't stand drunk stupid Bruce who seems to think acting like a fool is gonna make him forget all the terrible things that have happened to him. I feel bad for him but good gravy son this cannot stand. At the same time I can see how this idiot playboy period of his life will ruin any conception people (maybe especially Jim) have of him as an intelligent, competent, intense young man who they might suspect of being the Batman

-Jim goes to Barbara for info, because that always turns out well

-OMG OMG OMG THAT ABUSIVE BOYFRIEND FRAMED ALFRED FOR MURDER WHAAAT HE KILLED HIS GIRLFRIEND AND THEN FRAMED ALFRED NOOO AND THE GIRL WAS SO SWEET OH MAN ALFRED IS GONNA BE DESTROYED OH GOSH HE JUST WANTED TO HELP

-IF JIM THINKS FOR ONE SECOND THAT ALFRED ACTUALLY DID THIS I'LL PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE

-I AM SO ANGRY RIGHT NOW

-OKAY I THINK JIM IS GONNA TRY TO HELP HIM

-WAIT ALFRED JUST PEACED OUT THE HECK IF THEY WERE GONNA TAKE HIM TO THE STATION ON SUSPICION OF MURDER WHY WEREN'T THEY GUARDING HIM. WHY DIDN'T THEY PUT HIM IN HANDCUFFS. IDIOTS

-aww Butch still loves Tabby

-BAHAHAHAHA I'M CRYING ED IS NOW LEE'S HYPE MAN MAKES UP INTRODUCTORY RIDDLES FOR HER LOL

-JIM'S FACE WHEN HE SEES THAT LEE IS THE DOC

-LOL ED CREEPS UP ON JIM AND STARTLES THE HECK OUT OF HIM

Jim: I should bust you right now

Ed: yeah yeah whatevs look your ex is awesome and I'm on her side now surprise

Jim: someone hired krank the toymaker to kill her

Ed: Krank? That is sooo Gotham

BAHAHAHAHAHA

-I love Jim and I love Lee and the angst between them now hurts so bad but...I don't see them getting back together and marrying...because Jim can be a knucklehead and Lee doesn't have patience for that. UGH WHYYY. maybe it will be this bittersweet thing where they will always be good friends and remember what might have been...or years and years and years down the road they might marry...but not now :(

-lol Ed in the background like um guys I am standing right here? Maybe don't talk about me like I'm in another room? Lol

-btw what is up with Ed's hair xD

-waaaaaait a second....

-OMG ALFRED IS GONNA MURDER THE KILLER BOYFRIEND OH NO HE IS OUTNUMBERED

-HELL YES!!! HARVEY TO THE RESCUE!!!!!!!! SORRY IT TOOK HIM SO LONG HE WAS IN THE JOHN

-Harvey: I love bar-tending, it involves two of my favorite things--drinking and ignoring people

HARVEY THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS

-BLESS YOU THOUGH HARVEY I LOVE YOU THABKS FOR SAVING ALFRED'S BACON

-OH GEE IVY IS SUPER DANGEROUS NOW AND SUPER CRAZY

-OH BOY OH MAN OH GOSH YUP ED'S ALTER EGO THE RIDDLER HIRED THE GUY TO KILL LEE I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN

-JIM SHOWS UP TO SAVE ED BUT ED'S A STRESSED MESS AND HONESTLY THE WHOLE LONE WOLF THING SOUNDS DUMB AND JIM IS LIKE HUH YOU SURE ABOUT THAT

-OF ALL THE BEER HALLS IN THE CITY, HUH? (I love Harvey so much) aww he is drinking to the lady with Alfred my heart

-NOOOOOOOOO JIM AND HARVEY NOOO

Jim: I've missed you

Harvey: well I haven't missed you. Haven't missed begging you not to do something just to watch you go ahead and do it anyway. Haven't missed watching you bang Falcone's daughter while she uses you to get rid of Penguin

Alfred: *shifting in his seat* THIS IS SO AWKWARD

-UGH HARVEY IS LIKE YOU DON'T WANT ME AS A COP YOU WANT SOMEONE TO CONFESS TO YOU WANT ME TO BE YOUR PRIEST

AND JIM IS LIKE...HOW ABOUT ALL THOSE THINGS AND A FRIEND *HANGS HEAD IN SADNESS*

ALFRED CONTINUES TO DRINK AND WISH HE WAS ANYWHERE ELSE

LOOK THERE IS ANGST AND THERE IS ANGST AND I AM DONE WITH SOME OF THEM GIMME THE HARVEY/JIM BROTP BACK I MISS MY BROTHER COPS

-IN CONCLUSION ALFRED AND BRUCE ARE STILL ON THE OUTS AND SO ARE JIM AND HARVEY EVERYTHING HURTS

#gotham spoilers #monica freaks out over gotham #gotham season 4 #poor alfred pennyworth #jim gordon and harvey bullock need to make up #i can't wait for bruce's drunken playboy act to become more of an act than it already is #lee thompkins is cool #i wanna learn more about how alfred is so loyal to thomas wayne it is beautiful

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debcrowe98892 · 3 years

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samuel4349180 · 3 years

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