#i think about the fact that he really named himself Barney a lot

[awakefor48hours]

I love that Barney definitely got his name from Barney the Dinosaur because if he was a real person, I can totally see himself naming himself Percy.

[doughbrainer]

Hey? Can I Be Bit Crazy About Something Not Miser Fam Related For A Bit? Cool, Thanks.

Okay, So Basically, A Few Days Ago I Had This Weird Dream That Involved @pistachi0art's OC, Arden, And My Half-Life OC.

I Sent Them A Few Asks That Involve The Dream And Stuff Went From There. To Sum Up The Dream, My OC Ate Arden's Heart And Ended Up Having A Child Because That. (I Know, It's Weird. I Was So Embarrassed When I Woke Up That Morning, Remembering The Dream.)

Cutting To The Chase Though, I Decided To Explore That A Bit More And Eventually...

My Half-Life OC Finally Got A Name After Months Without One, And So Did The Child.

I Didn't Add Much Info In The Images As I Want To Elaborate More In The Post. I Don't Want This To Take Up People's Feed Though, So If You Want To Know About Them, Just Press "Keep Reading"

BARLEY

Barley Is The Human Child Of Barney Calhoun And One Of His Previous Exes. When Barney First Went Under Cover For The Resistance, He Got Along With Another Metro Cop, Who Turned Out To Be Under Cover For The Resistance As Well. Stuff Happened Between Them But Their Mother Was Moved To Monitor A Different City, They Kept Contact With Barney As Much As They Could Until Forcefully Cut Off By The Combine, As My Headcanon For The Story Is That Metro Cops Are Not Allowed Contact With Other Cities. Eventually, Barley Was Born Before The Suppression Was Put Into Place And Her Mother Took Care Of Her In Secret, While The Combine Was Completely Oblivious. This When Barley Eventually Was Discovered, Their Mother Saved Them By Abandoning Them But It Costed Their Mother's Life. (Yeah, Sadly Her Mum Is Dead. :/) Barley Was Found By An Unnamed Scientist And Was Cared For By Them Until They Were Old Enough To Safely Walk Around Without Being In A Main Sense Of Danger. They Followed Their Parents Lead And Went Under Cover For The Resistance, This How She Was Eventually Reunited With Her Father, Barney Calhoun.

After The Events Of HL2:EP2, They Made It To White Forest Base, But Managed To Catch The Attention Of G-Man's Employers And Was Forcefully Hired By Them And Was Given The Same Job Title As G-Man. She Doesn't Know How To Do Her Job And Because She Has No Powers Like G-Man, She Continues To Do Most Of The Stuff For The Resistance, Despite It Being Mandatory That She Wears A Suit Nearly 24/7 Unless In Her Personalised Home For Her Or Under Other Necessary Circumstances. Eventually, When Finally Meeting G-Man, He Gave Her The Ability To Move Across Universes And Reality, Although This Is The Only Power She Has, This Is How She Eventually Meets Everybody From The Universe Of Half-Life VR But The Ai Is Self-Aware.

EVERETT

Everett Is (Fanon) Son Of Barley And Arden, Therefore Making Him Benrey's Nephew. He Came To Be When Barley Ended Up Eating Arden's Heart. Despite The Fact That He's Related To Arden, Barley Cares About Him Regardless, As Him Being Her Son Is The Only Reason She Needs To Love Him. Although He Likes Hanging Out With His Uncle Benrey And Considers Joshua One Of His Best Friends. When Everett Is Made Aware Of Who Is Father Is And What He Did To His Uncle, He Finds It Hard To Approach Benrey For Anything Knowing That, As He Feels Somewhat Responsible For His Father's Actions, And Wants To Make Up For The Things He Did, Despite The Fact They Were Out Of His Control. Sometimes, When Thinking About His Parentage, He Scares Himself With The Thought That There's A Part Of His Father That Lives On Through Him.

When He's Young, He Has A Tail, But He Does Eventually Lose It When He Gets A Grasp On His Powers. He's Stretchy Like His Father, He Uses Sweet Voice A Lot When He's Younger, But As He Gets Older, He Uses It Less, Only Really Using It When He's Frustrated Or When Communicating With Benrey, As It Helps His Uncle Understand How Others Feel. He Prefers To Wear Simple Clothes, Like T-Shirts And Shorts As He Likes To Move Around A Lot, It's Also Easier To Repair Simple Clothes If They Get Ruined.

[buttered-bearcat]

New Fanfic Idea

For a little bit, I had an idea for a crossover between VivziePop's Hellaverse and Hamish Steele's DeadEndia/Dead End series.

The setting is sort of a blend of the settings of both series, Earth, Heaven, and Hell being divided up into different Planes, with Earth being the middle "Neutral Plane". There are 19 Planes total, 7 of the Lower Planes being named after the Seven Deadly Sins, and 7 of the Upper Planes being named after the Seven Heavenly Virtues. Divinity, the topmost Plane, is where the Divine, the beings in charge of all of the Planes and everything on them, reside, and Tartarus, the bottommost Plane, is where the Planes' most evil souls go to be tormented for eternity. The two Planes directly above and below Earth are Purgatory and Limbo respectively. Purgatory is where souls are judged for their actions to see whether or not they're qualified to be reincarnated as a newborn baby, and Limbo is where souls that aren't completely evil reside for the rest of eternity, though they can still freely travel between the Planes without the use of portals or magical artifacts.

The premise is that Charlie opened up a resort on Earth for humans, angels, and demons with the purpose of promoting peace and harmony between all of them (an idea which, predictably, a lot of people find pretty stupid), with Norma and Barney being her newest hires, being brought on as a bellhop and groundskeeper respectively.

The characters are a little bit changed up from their original canons, though I'll still try to leave them recognizable as themselves. For one example, Blitzø and Stolas' relationship is much healthier and less transaction-y than it is in Helluva Boss, though Blitzø is totally oblivious to the fact that their relationship is actually romantic (he thinks it's a boss and assistant with benefits situation) for a good chunk of Season 1, despite it being really obvious that they're a thing to the point that it's an open secret among the employees of the resort. Sinner demons don't automatically become demons upon death, but instead make deals with stronger demons to become demons themselves at the cost of their autonomy and souls (e.g. Angel Dust and Valentino). They can also travel between the Planes instead of being restricted to Pride. Pauline Phoenix might or might not be one of these "dealborn" demons, I might have to think about it. Millie is definitely gonna get the spotlight more. We could've certainly gotten more chances to see what makes her tick in HB Season 1 (*cough* Harvest Moon Festival *cough*).

Chapter list (potential spoilers for a fic that hasn't been written yet):

Chapter 1: First Day of Hell

Barney Guttman and Norma Khan are the newest employees at the Happy Hazbins Resort, a resort run by Charlotte “Charlie” Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer himself. The two human teenagers figure out pretty quickly that the resort isn’t what it seems on the surface.

Chapter 2: Now That’s Entertainment!

After getting into a scrape with the dark angel Temeluchus, Barney’s dog Pugsley has gained the ability to talk. Barney seizes the opportunity to give Pugsley the childhood he himself never got to experience. Meanwhile, Charlie and her girlfriend/assistant manager Vaggie try to make a commercial for the resort, with mixed results.

Chapter 3: Trust In Me

Charlie and Vaggie lead a series of team-building exercises for the employees at the resort to help them build better trust in each other, which leads to Norma having to contend with her deepest fears. Meanwhile, Stolas and his imp assistant (and not-so-secret lover) Blitzø try to help their shy youngest daughter Octavia make friends with the teenage employees.

Chapter 4: Scrambled Eggs

The technologically-inclined snake demon Sir Pentious comes to the resort with an ulterior motive. Meanwhile, Barney asks imp security guards and sweethearts Moxxie and Millie for advice on how to approach his crush, Logan “Logs” Nguyen.

Chapter 5: Night of the Living Fizzbots (or Radio Killed The Video Star)

Alastor, a powerful radio demon and the resort’s head maintenance manager, is always one step ahead of his arch rival, the TV demon Vox. Meanwhile, Barney reunites with his little brother Patrick when the latter is on a class trip to Pollywood, the resort’s theme park based on the film catalog of actress Pauline Phoenix, and later, the two brothers team up with Blitzø to fight an army of rogue robots modeled after the imp’s own arch rival.

Chapter 6: Sweet Poison

Angel Dust, a spider demon and the resort’s late-night entertainer, is in very rough shape after doing a video shoot with his pimp Valentino in the Pride Plane of Hell, leading to Vaggie booking a band of succubi and incubi as a last-minute replacement act while Charlie goes to talk to Valentino about breaking his soul contract with Angel.

Chapter 7: The Blood Moon Festival

It’s the Blood Moon Festival in Hell, and Moxxie and Millie head to the Wrath Plane to visit Millie’s family, leading to both of them suffering from feelings of inadequacy (Millie because she isn’t as efficient of an assassin as her siblings, and Moxxie because Millie’s parents don’t see him as manly enough to be with her). Meanwhile, Charlie gets over her uncharacteristic stage fright to make a special appearance.

Chapter 8: Here Comes Mimzy!

Alastor’s old friend Mimzy comes to the Neutral Plane to hide from a gang of demonic loan sharks. Meanwhile, Angel and his best friend Cherri Bomb go on a quest to locate and steal a stash of Heaven-grown marijuana in the Gluttony Plane, only to get tied up in a plot with supernatural weapon engineer Carmilla Carmine.

Chapter 9: Dread Beat Dad

Charlie’s father Lucifer comes to the resort to see how things are being run so that more angels can come to it. Noticing how awkward the two of them act around each other, Blitzø decides to challenge the king of Hell to a “dad-off” to prove that Blitzø is the superior dad to his own daughters. Meanwhile, Barney confronts his parents about their refusal to stand up to his bigoted grandmother.

Chapter 10: The Angel Vagiel

A flashback chapter detailing Vaggie’s life before falling to Hell and meeting Charlie, and how she was once a top soldier in Heaven’s Angelic Army.

Chapter 11: Welcome to Heaven

Charlie, Vaggie, Fingers, and Courtney all go to Heaven to see if any angels would be interested in coming down to the Neutral Plane and staying at the Happy Hazbins Resort.

Chapter 12: Bumps In The Road

Charlie is reeling from the truth of who Vaggie was, but tries her damnedest to push her feelings aside to prepare for the special guests the resort is expecting. Meanwhile, Vaggie tries to come to terms with herself and figure out who she really is outside her past and her relationship with Charlie.

Chapter 13: Guests From Above

The resort’s new angel guests have arrived, but tensions rise between them and the demon staff. Meanwhile, Pugsley starts having strange premonitions and tries to figure out what they mean.

Chapter 14: Demons’ Night Out

Norma, Badyah, Millie, Loona, and Octavia have a girls’ night out, only to discover that a nefarious plot involving Pauline Phoenix is afoot and set out to solve the mystery of what’s going on. Meanwhile, Moxxie feels lonely without his wife, so Angel, Courtney, and Cherri Bomb bring him on a night out on the Pride Plane, with Sir Pentious and Blitzø tagging along, only for some metaphorical and literal demons from Blitzø’s past to show up.

Chapter 15: Late Nights With Vox

Stolas reels after being humiliated on Vox’s late-night talk show in Hell. Meanwhile, Charlie and Vaggie try to have a nice night out on their fourth anniversary, only to deal with external factors (namely the Hellish Planes not having too many places where you can be openly romantic without being mocked and the Heavenly Planes generally not being fond of demon-angel relationships) getting in the way.

Chapter 16: Love Line Segment

Octavia works up the nerve to confess her feelings to Norma, but doesn’t realize that Norma has feelings for Badyah. Meanwhile, Fingers decides now is the right time to teach Pugsley how to use angelic magic.

Chapter 17: Double Date With Destiny

Barney and Logs invite Norma and Octavia on a double date to help make their new relationship official. Meanwhile, Alastor and Niffty have a chat about life and philosophy as Pugsley progresses towards his destiny.

Chapter 18: The Watcher’s Test, Part 1

A mysterious entity known as the Watcher arrives at the resort to congratulate the employees on defeating his challengers.

Chapter 19: The Watcher’s Test, Part 2

A massive event happens that could shake the very foundation of the 19 planes of existence. Can our heroes successfully work together to defeat the Watcher and change the future?

I've written some other stuff too (not much, but I'd say it's decent, and I look forward to hearing some feedback/constructive criticism). My AO3 profile can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButteredBearcat

[izzysarchivedblogs]

THERE'S THAT QUIET PAUSE AS THE MEMORY PETERS OUT. Repeats a few moments more in his head, his words lingering on how he'd grow up to be a cowboy and save his mom, like in the stories she'd tell him when he was a little kid who needed the comfort. Brother already asleep, and just those little moments with mother and second son.

Clint wanted to save her, and that causes a small ache. He got to be a cowboy once. Too late for everything else, like Edith. Clint hadn't thought about her, or any of this because there wasn't much to think about. It had no bearing on his life, and Harold always had the bigger shadow, always was the ghost in the mirror.

The way that Tony's close, feels special, and he thinks maybe Tony recognizes that Clint doesn't tell this stuff. He presses ever so slightly closer to him, just lets the pause and moment linger.

At least he got to be a cowboy and meet a real cowboy, be part of his story and Two-Gun had been his hero. ❝ I thought about it; like really thought about it. ❞ Yet he had been an Avenger and he had known, been told how time travel would affect things. ❝ Almost, but I was an Avenger, and that was the best thing ever. ❞ HE SAYS THAT AS HE LOOKS DIRECTLY INTO TONY'S EYES. Clint means that to the fullest T.

That's why he lost himself, why the alcohol was so bad and this recovery was tough. HE WANTED TO FIND THAT FEELING AGAIN. It had been lost and it as heartbreaking, even now he doubts he'll be an Avenger again.

❝ Be a consultant, the movie would never get made. Y'know, I don't think I could do that, I'd tear it apart because it'd have to be made perfect. Better it be made bad, and without me. ❞ There's an unspoken sentiment that he couldn't bare if didn't communicate the true and perfect story of his friends, couldn't risk it being perceived wrong. He'd rather people do it poorly, without his input, because he would be devastated if HE DID HIS FRIENDS WRONG.

❝ NO! Not the horseback part, which you know how I feel about horses. I had a horse all my own named, Lefty Lucifer. ⸻ You keep bringing up technology and modern amenities anytime you have to bring up camping, I get you'd like to have a high tech cabin for camping. GLAMPING. ❞ Clint is equally offended back, rolling his eyes at Tony because he knows that Tony would rather not rough it like Clint would do.

He's literally roughed it for weeks on weeks end, in the northern wilderness after Bobbi's death. Hunting, and doing everything all his own as far from civilization as possible. Clint was normal.

❝ I'd settle for horseback, and modern camping, if it gets us out in fresh air with no skyscrapers. ❞ He says modern as if it's a dirty word.

INHALE, THEN A LONG EXHALE OUT OF HIS MOUTH. It did suck and Clint was offended for Tony on his behalf that he looked like Howard Stark even when they didn't share blood. ❝ It sucks. You know SHIELD made me dye my hair once, I looked like him more than Barney does. ❞ Clint did not like that memory at all. Had he mentioned that he hated all iterations of Shield? Even if this new version of Maria's worried him.

TELL ME ANOTHER GOOD MEMORY. ❝ It's okay, Tony. ⸺⸻ Uh, more mom stuff? You start having memories like at four, right? She died when I was seven. So that's like three years, so I don't have a lot. ❞ He sighs, there was more but he can't pinpoint anything to be exact with that. He didn't mean to bring it to the sad stuff either. ❝ Oh, Aunt Francis, Harold's sister, came to stay with us once and I was helping Edith do laundry, and we ended up dying all of Aunt Francis' whites pink. Edith couldn't stop giggling, even as she got mad and she admitted to me later that she did it on purpose. Told me that I shouldn't pull pranks on people, but Aunt Franny kind of deserved it. ❞ He got his mischief from Edith.

Clint definitely finds himself, grinning quite proud of the fact that he was getting on Tony's nerves. However, it fades when Tony doesn't bite and take the obvious bait. SEE TONY'S SMART. However, he still goes off into a different tangent, not the one he was expecting or hoping for. He had wanted to see him fuming over the alien show, so Clint could see that expression he was kind of super into

YOU'RE SMART. All of what Tony says, he does believe and sees it. There's always been more to Tony that meets the eye. The man puts on an act as much as Clint puts on his own act. A front, a public image for everyone, so no one really knew what was under their skin. An image that people believed in, but it was curated by them to be seen.

❝ Shut up. NOT TRUE ⸺⸻ and I didn't make all of them, there's like roughly a hundred and twenty two arrowheads that I've made and used. ❞ He knows that his number of designs was in the hundreds, and sure there was overlap and at least two or three dozen were designed by others but that was still a lot.

LIVE BY THE TRICK ARROW. There's a reason that Hawkeye as a hero, as a concept, has survived so long.

Tony's hand returns to Clint's hair. He's starting to feel this is the kind of conversation that should be had in bed, holding each other, and breaking it up with kissing. Just so you know it's in the past and you're with someone who really cares about you. That loves you. Hopefully Clint is getting some of that from Tony now. Even though Tony's not worried about lines anymore or mixed signals, there's still the baby steps he needs to be aware of.

"Yeah, you really loved that guy. I swear I thought you were going to stay in the past with him at one point. You were so into the cowboy thing." His fingers carded back and forth through Clint's hair. "Glad you didn't though. Maybe you can contact them. Become a consultant. Make sure it's done right."

He sits up at the mention of glamping. "How would being on horseback make it glamping!" Tony yelped. He was offended at the suggestion. It wasn't like he was saying they should go by wagon after all. Just that they riding in and out. And if anything, that'd make you stink way worse than just walking it. "I just meant we'd ride in to the campsite. You could even do a few days. But if you don't want to."

He settles back again. "It sucks right? Looking like them? I mean, look at me. I look just like Howard. I look more like him than fucking Arno. How's that even possible?" He shakes his head and leans against Clint. "Didn't mean to go into the shitty stuff. Tell me another good memory."

He groans as Clint ribs him about his ego and the story of the suit. He wants to argue more but Clint's trying to get him worked up and he doesn't want to give in to that. He's not sure he can resist though. "You can't fool me, Barton. You didn't drop out because of your smarts. You dropped out because of your circumstance. But you do have it all wrong. I don't like feeling like the smartest guy in the room. I don't like smarts and ego. I want to be smarter than Reed Richards because he's so fucking full of himself about it. I like being smarter than Doom. I like Rivalry with Bruce. But you give me someone that's smarter than me that I can learn from? Who wants everyone else to be smart too? That's the sweet spot. I want everyone to be at least as smart as me. And you're smart. You're just not educated. Which is fucking scary. Imagine how many trick arrows you'd have if you went to MIT. "

[fucktheroyals]

You know after reading and reading and reading peoples theories and the meta from before the spn finale aired and the meta writers reactions to the finale I think I have a theory of my own. We don't have any answers tho, so this is pure speculation. If you wanna add something to support or discredit any of this that's cool but there's too many things floating around. Know I dont have proof for this conclusion at all. A lot of what I say is just guesses based on previous facts.

This all came together in my head when I realized how much this finale REEKS of the original producers and who the show was originally for. It REEKS of Robert Singer. Like if the execs started saying they didn't want it, Robert Singer was the one pushing that the story was about the brothers. That kinda thing.

Then, I was thinking of the problems in this episode and it struck me these are all of Supernatural biggest issues and to be honest all of it feels completely deliberate.

Take the sexism for example, Supernatural in it's later seasons largely out grew this, we have Jody, Rowena, Donna, Charlie, Mary, Claire (and even a wayward sisters pilot with MORE women/girls) all making regular appearances. They're mainly good characters and mostly aren't there to hurt our boys. Rowena, of course, is the one outlier being very about herself but it's clear she still cares for them, I mean its part of her development. But they're all real, with character flaws just like everyone else. (And we have Death too and she was POC 😭 THANK GOD)

Now look at the earlier half of Spn, we have Ellen and Jo, who's appearances were far in between. There's Bela in season 3, recurring for quite a bit (5 eps), but she is a character that is only there for herself, definitely not found family (unlike Ellen & Jo), and she's got more episodes in season 3 than Ellen and Jo in season 2 who aren't seen again til season 5. The "fans" send in hate mail after hate mail to try to get these characters off, and eventually they are. Then there's Ruby who's character stayed for a whole two seasons and was a largely recurring character. Why does she get to say so long? She's a plot device. She's supposed to be there to betray Sam. She has to stay (plus Jared obviously likes her). But she's not just a character the writers like writing about. Same with Lilith. Obviously not as recurring but still a plot device. Did they get hate mail tho? You can bet on it. Why? because tHeY'rE gOnNa PuSh ThE bOyS (Dean and Sam) aPaRt ThE sHoW iS aBoUt ThE bOyS oNlY. Without even thinking about the hate mail, just notice how large the difference is from how women are seen in the earlier seasons to the later seasons. Misha got tons of hate mail too for being a character that could split up the boys (probably only being allowed to say because he a man, thanks sexist producers and execs).

Only after Castiel was killed off and then Castiel fans successfully (thank you guys) got him back on the show did the hate mail largely simmer, which means female character's were allowed to stay! Which has lead us to a show with a good amount of female characters. But can you imagine having to kill characters off time and time again because people keep complaining that the show is "only about the boys." Fun times really.

So now we get to this final and we see sexism. But it wasn't just the plain old regular sexism you find in the earlier days of spn. Because now, there ARE women to talk about, talk to. But this episode was DESOLATE women wise, unless they were used for plot (which is also sexist!). Small scenes, they're barely there. Women gets her tongue cut out. Random women from s1 gets killed. Sam doesn't SPEAK of Eileen. Nothing. No mention of any female characters from the boys mouths unless they were from/in this episode itself. That's WIERD. I know we've all said it. But that goes beyond forgetting about characters. I mean its SAM'S GIRLFRIEND for Christ's sake. There is NO REASON they couldn't have said Eileen's name. Notice how Sam's wife is just... faceless. This is literally an age old sexist trope. Like... one of the things about bringing Mary back to life for s12+ is that it takes this trope... of basically a generic mother, and gives her life and feelings, whether you like them or not, they're real feelings. They said Mary isn't just a mom she's a person. Mary's existence in the later half of spn is to fix this kind of female tropes that fall upon her character, to not let these her stay a 2 dimensional character. They said we should know she's more than just the mom who tried to save her kid. Do that is the exact opposite of Sam getting a nameless, faceless wife. The sexism of the old spn wasn't just brought back, it was completely amplified. It wasn't just accidental or some exec "fixing" the story it was DELIBRATE. Whoever wrote that, didn't do ALL OF THAT by accident. Because an exec or a producer who doesn't see the flaws in old supernatural isn't going to write it that deliberately.

Let's bring it back to s10 when Charlie was killed (singer was mainly to blame). Dead in the bathtub, age old classic of burying ur gays. If you were here you know people never let Supernatural live that down. THEY KNOW what bury ur gays means. Hell, Robbie Thompson left because of Charlie's death and you think the writers don't know what it means? I mean both Bobo Berens (especially) and Steve Yockey's careers are centered around LGBT+ storytelling and you think they don't know? They know. They know.

And Dean wasn't just apart of the bury your gays trope, it is so far BEYOND that. Dean being killed on a rusty nail/screw, the tongues ripped out, things that seemed to be meant for other people. Jensen's acting in the last two episodes was giving us "DEAN RECIPROCATES" but no one ever actually saying it. I think it's clear that Dean was killed for being Bi. They didn't address it for a reason, they just silenced him. His narrative was supposed to be about letting him be HIM for the first time, to say what his feelings are instead of having them miscommunicated, and instead of doing that, they just silenced him. And the more we look at this scene the more horrific it gets. The more it's a complete slap in the face and it's supposed to be. Some guy who knows nothing about the LGBT can't write a scene this horrific.

Some guy who knows nothing about Dean couldn't write a scene that deconstructs all of Dean's character development and gives Dean his worst nightmare. I MEAN DEAN WANTED TO LIVE HIS LIFE! THEY DIDNT HIDE THAT JOB APPLICATION (or whatever job related thing that was) IN THERE FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES THEY WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST SITUATION. Dean isn't Barney from HIMYM. If you watched HIMYM then you'll know Barney went from being a stereotypical ladies man and treating women terribly to being in love with a women and treating her right and working hard for it. The last episode of HIMYM (why its so bad) Barney's character development is thrown out and he's back to being a stereotypical ladies man. You don't need to know Barney's character very much to do that.

To kill Dean during a hunt his father never finished, to not have anyone at his funeral, to have Dean die young like his life didn't matter. Those are Dean's worst fears and you'd only truly know that if you watched the gin episode in s3, where they are basically laid out for you. You HAVE to know Dean's character to tear him apart like this.

This episode took all the core elements of the show and did a complete 180° the name of the episode itself is "Carry on" and Dean and Sam very much did not carry on. Sam grieving his entire life so that he good get to heaven and see Dean again. Dean being ready to live his life, despite the enormous pitfalls and learning to love himself only to be killed. "Family don't end with blood." Um.... it did in that episode either literally with Dean's death or you know BECAUSE NONE OF THEIR FOUND FAMILY WAS THERE. Not Jack, Not Cas, Not Eileen, Not Donna, Not Charlie, Not Jody, Not Claire... on and on we go. No one was there, nobody was even mentioned. Dean's funeral, no one even called that we know of. It was just Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean. And Bobby. Don't forget Bobby. But yeah Sam and Dean.

That's what the show is about right, the brothers.

Except it's not anymore. It hasn't been for years.

Cas not being there was deafening but it brought us to a major point. Becky. Becky's telling us about the terrible ending.

And many of us are wondering why would they literally tell us this is the worst ending and then... make it the ending.

Now before we move on, it very apparent many of you think Dabb doesn't ship Deancas. And Dabb doesn't care about the characters.

Say what you will about any plot holes in his writing, the point he is VERY GOOD at writing the characters, and giving us good ones.

Why do we know Dabb ships Deancas? (ill say when its cowrote, other wise its not) cowrote ep 8.02 - purgatory "I prayed to you, Cas, every night" "Cas, Buddy, I need you." "I have a price on my head, and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to – to keep them away from you." 8.08 Hunteri Heroici - Cas helps them hunt! 😊❤ Dean & Cas have a serious convo about why Cas doesn't want to see/go to heaven. 8.22 Dean's mad at Cas. Sam's explanation of why Dean should be easy on Cas: "It's Cas." Dean then points out how he'd knife anybody else if they did what Cas did. 9.10 - Cas comforts Dean when Dean can't take seeing Sam (Gadreel) being tortured anymore. Also tons of Cas. 9.20 (bloodlines) - Canonical couple parallel "I was there, where were you" 9.22 The angels make Cas choose between them and killing Dean and he "gave up an entire army for one guy" 10.09 Claire's reintroduction. Cas heavy ep. DeanCas date. 10.22 THE PRISONER - u know the ep where Dean beats the shit out of Cas but loves him enough to not kill him.

We COULD keep going but I think I've made my point. If Robert Singer is the guy that is like "the show is about Sam and Dean only" Andrew Dabb is the DeanCas shipper. And you could even say a Cas stan.

Notice! How in s13 for SEVEN episodes we have a story that revolves around Dean's grief about losing Cas. Notice! How often the stories in all these seasons have a focus on their relationship. THAT is Andrew Dabb. If it weren't for him doing that, we wouldn't be able to easily say after Dean's lack of a response to Cas' confession, that Dean reciprocates.

To me, when I was (binge) watching s12 for the first time, I thought damn this is really got a lot of DeanCas. So I went to look at who was in charge, who was writing. I saw Andrew Dabb, associated him with Deancas episodes, saw all the new writers, Bobo, and then I saw that Yockey is known for same sex stories and it clicked. Dabb assembled a team to give us Destiel. THAT WAS IN SEASON 12!!!!!!!!

The amount of people saying he's homophobic flabbergast me. Open your eyes! That isn't what's going on.

Imagine making a show and trying to right all the wrongs of Supernatural. Imagine trying to write the greatest love story ever told and you have the entire season planned out for it to end off beautifully, it may possibly be your greatest achievement when it's done and then boom. someone comes in and tells you you aren't allowed to make Dean bi or make destiel endgame, after he was most probably already given the go ahead.

Sure. You could imply he's bi or into cas still in a way. Still make nice-ish ending. just give everyone what the kinda want.

Or you could scrap the last season, nothing close to a canonical bisexual Dean Winchester or Deancas endgame in site. People can be done with it be happy with the show, continue to live their lives in ignorance as to how close they were to Canon destiel.

OR you can lead everyone to the very closest you can get them to what you were aiming for and then show everyone the ugly truth and reality. Light it all on fire. Burn the show to the ground in your wake. Try your darnedest to making these people's (the people saying no) pockets suffer. Show us, the audience, what happened. Show us what this show really is.

I've seen people talk about the ending being changed during covid but I dont think that happened. I think what happened was Dabb already had this season planned out before it even started. Obviously the details were wobbly but it was all lead up to this ending. Destiel endgame, Canon Bisexual Dean, whatever it was. They were ready to write the greatest love story ever told and then someone shut it down.

Imagine the pain that must have caused them to be told no when they already said yes. They must have been so excited to give this to us.

I think someone (some producers) told him what this show is "really" about. The brothers. Can you imagine, after being told no, some kinda bullshit like this is said to you: "Why aren't you bringing it back to the brothers, Andrew? that's what the shows about. What with all this homosexual stuff, you know the audience won't like that. Not really." Imagine the original producers pushing this kind of view on you. "You know when we started it was Sam and Dean. It should end with Sam and Dean." That kinda sounds like someone huh? huh.

So why give us a nice acceptable finale, when you can take every problem Supernatural's had either up front or behind the scenes and create a finale so incredibly bad that people don't want to watch it anymore.

Someone made a good point about how Sam was originally supposed to be the main focus (this isn't to put any hate on Sam or Jared). Dean and Sam are the main characters but Sam was supposed to be the focus and for Dean to have become the focus, must have annoyed the producers because... well here we are. They wouldn't listen to Jensen. The producers liked this ending. Jensen's opinion didn't matter to them.

In some ways, if this is really what happened, it can be seen as childish from Dabb. To hurt all of us like that. Yes, he's hurting the producers, the execs, the cw. But to hurt us? Yeah it stings.

But in other ways, if this is really what happened, this is Dabb showing us the muck and gunk under the shiny surface. The hate for Misha. The hidden hate for Jensen. The underlying sexism. The underlying homophobia. The people REALLY in charge don't care about us, they just want our money. He needed to open our eyes and free us, at least free the people that he was writing for. The people he sees that care about this show.

This is the ending the powers that be wanted and its a big fuck you for a reason. I dont think this is Dabb spitting in our faces for loving this show, I think this is him trying to get revenge for us.

But from here, you can see it how u want it. If this is really what happened, I'm not in charge of your emotions, if you wanna be mad be mad if you wanna be grateful be grateful. And you don't have to believe me either I said this is speculation.

Also, as for all of the rumors like there being shots to the confession scene that we didn't see, which Jensen himself implied, I think that might have been a last ditch effort to canonized DeanCas but obviously it was cut. Like the name change was pretty clear. As for Misha possibly having shot some stuff for 20 I dont know what to tell you. If it's true I dont know where the blame would lie.

I do think however, that if all this was the case, the writers were prepared to become villians here. I mean they told us the writers were villians with Chuck right? So. Who knows what went down so they could give us such a vile ending. It could've been the producers or the writers, who truly knows. I do think tho that people we "trust" did some pretty shitty things to push the narrative in certain directions so now one would see this as the actual ending that was coming.

So again do with my SPECULATION what you will. This was in no way meant to put Dabb on a pedestal or anything. Just meant to give a bit of perspective.

(Also Jensen didn't unfollow Dabb recently he was already unfollowed for years)

[beastenraged]

Say. How would Clint meeting with a decidueye go? Him being just done over the fact that there's a Pokemon who literally shoot arrow. With a bow and all. Ha. Maybe he found a hurt rowlete and took it home? Because really. They're cute! Or the little rowlete just see Clint using bow and arrow like a pro and go !!!! My human! And got attached. Unfortunately they didn't account for the fact that Mama Decidueye would come looking and shooting arrow at Clint to get her hatchling back.

Oh no, you've inspired me! Have a short ficlet.

"Your partner fits you pretty well," Kate notes from Clint's side as they both watch his Decidueye take potshots at the Hydra agents below.

"Huh. I guess." Clint shrugs. Birdlike partner with arrows, next to man with bird codename and arrows? Yeah, he can see that.

-

But it wasn't always that way.

-

At ten years old, every child gets a partner. A protector, of sorts. 

Some of those partners will grow and evolve right side along you, changing as your life does. Others stay the same forever, only varying in what powers they could bring to bear. 

A lot of people think you can predict a person’s future by what shape their partner takes at ten years old. 

Just having turned ten himself, Clint Barton isn’t sure how true that is. 

For one thing, he didn’t expect to get an owl. A plant owl, that only stares at him uselessly. Does nothing as Dad beats him and Barney every night, after drinking his way through the money. 

He guess he couldn’t really expect more out of it, when even Barney’s Stunky can’t do much against Dad’s Rhydon. Still hurts. 

All it does catch mice. That’s it. 

He lays his head on his arms, looking at the owl as it looks at him back. 

“You’re kind of useless, aren’t you?”

Rowlet watches him with round black eyes, before it tilts its head back to choke down a mouse. 

-

Rowlet becomes Dartrix the moment Clint learns his parents are dead. Barney’s partner doesn’t evolve, and they never figure out if that’s a good or bad thing. 

Dartrix is even more of a pain in the ass than Rowlet was, and Rowlet was pretty useless already. 

The bird’s fussy about how clean it is. It won’t let Clint get any sleep until it’s properly groomed, a real pain in the ass. 

Barney laughs at him and Clint throws the grooming brush at him. Stupid thing’s full of Stunky’s stinky fur again, asshole. 

Dick.

Once they run away to the circus, Dartrix becomes a little more useful. Still fussy, still demanding those daily cleanings. But also...

Clint practices his shooting, his trickshots, Dartrix right by his side. The owl contributes razor sharp leaves alongside razor sharp arrows. Twinned together, landing in each other’s shadows.

A two in one act, just like the Swordsman and his Bisharp. A way to really make a living. 

For once, Clint thinks he’s done it. He’s found his place. Finally.

(But that’s not true, is it?)

-

Seeing the Swordsman stealing, Clint steps in without any expectation that Dartrix will too. Even against another person’s partner. 

It never did against Dad’s Rhydon, after all. 

It’s just Clint. Like it’s always been. Just Clint. 

Before Bisharp cuts him, a flick of an arrow flies between them. Making the partner back off. Clint looks up. 

It’s his Dartritx. But not. Bigger now, colored brown and red, evolved one last time.

He knows its new name. 

Decidueye. 

It nods to him and Clint knows what it means without a word needing to be said. 

I’ll stand beside you. 

You won’t be alone. 

Never again. 

-

Deciding to split ways, to not see each other again, that’s when Barney’s Stunky becomes a Skuntank. 

Clink decides not to read too much into that. Or the fight they have afterwards, the one that ends with Decidueye standing triumphant over a dazed Skuntank. 

(He has to, for the sake of his own state of mind.)

-

When he’s recruited by his first spy agency, they look Decidueye over. One intern excitedly tells him that his particular Decidueye is the rarer Grass-Fighting variation, instead of the expected Grass-Ghost. 

“Best for fighting the Dark Types that are common around criminals. Pretty lucky for you!”

“Yeah.” 

He thinks back to that moment, when that arrow was the only thing standing between him and his mentor’s Bisharp. A Dark type. 

Of his brother’s Stunky. Skuntank, now.  

Decidueye tilts its hat at him. Clint looks away from the intern and their too bright blob of a companion. 

“Pretty lucky.”

A feathered wing reaches out to pat him on the shoulder. Wordless comfort. 

Clint smiles. 

What else can he do? Just him and Decidueye. Against the world. 

[thepigeonsopinion]

Guess who's the bish that just watched "Wishmaker"!...

I'm the bish that just watched "Wishmaker" if you didn't figure it out.

Anywho! Let's get on with it. Now, usually I would do a little (extremely detailed) summary of the episode, but I can guess that a lot, if not most of the fandom has seen the episode so I'm just going to skip that and dive straight into it!

Warning: Spoilers for "Wishmaker"

Anyway! Onto business, let's talk about my thoughts on the episode.

So, the beginning of the episode. I legit don't know why this triggered me (I absolutely know why this triggered me, but I don't want to admit it) but Marinette melting when she gave Adrien the flyer got me freaking laughing, probably because every time and I mean EVERY time the love square interacts (mainly adrinette) is so over used that I find it hilarious at this point (this is probably just me, but what the heck :p)((also this was kinda me salting on the LS, but remember this is just my opinion so please don't come at me :)). Continuing on to Alya's comment about if "being a superhero counts as a job" it sure as heck does, well mainly if your Marinette (also the reason why I'm talking about small details that happened in the episode is mainly because I'm re-watching the episode as I type this). Again I had a cackling moment when we had the Sadrien moment, which made me realize how mean and bad I am, but oh, well (i felt horrible when i cackled at this, but i felt really guilty afterwards) ((i might delete this part later, but idk)) Also, when Plagg presents the idea of them running a cheese shop together it made my heart melt because it shows how much Plagg cares about Adrien and how much he wants to stay with Adrien. Now, unto the part where Marinette explains to the kwamis what a career is and when I say I was laughing through this whole scene, I WAS laughing through this whole scene. Mainly because of all the comments that the kwamis gave to Marinette. Like, seriously many of the comments are very accurate and the one that broke me was when Xuppu said, "It's making presents for Adrien!", I was like "damn he legit just called you out Mari". Not to mention, when Ziggy drawled out AdRIen's name to showcase the amount of meaning Adrien has on her life. Also, Sass is legit the PERFECT kwami for Luka, and I am not exaggerating this. Sass literally was the only kwami that stood up and voiced out that they should listen to Marinette and that her opinion in this situation is the most important one, and I know for a fact that Luka would do the same if he was put into the same situation Sass was in. That small detail in the episode made my heart melt knowing how compatible Luka and Sass are.

Anyway! Moving on, Andre legit unintentionally (maybe?) roasted Alec on his show, I was like "damn he got you there" and he also roasted him with the sweet, delicious treat known as ice cream, damn that's got a hurt. Speaking of Andre, the story of how Andre found his career was really touching to me. The main reason of why he really pursued his ice cream business was because ice cream was what made him happy and he wanted to share that with the world. In summary, I find Andre's career story really touching and meaningful.

Continuing on, after Andre explained the ice cream flavors to Marinette, Luka "coincidentally" appeared right behind her right after Andre said "Pistachio and pecan for the clear-sighted young man". And, if you tell me that the pistachio is to represent Adrien, I would like to explain to you how that it is not accurate. I mean, legit this whole episode is to represent how both Adrien and Marinette are indecisive when it comes to their career choices, mainly because of all the things happening in their lives. Now, "clear-sighted" doesn't really suit Adrien in the context of the episode. In this episode, Adrien doesn't even have a clue on what he wants to do for the rest of his life, but Luka on the other hand is a representative at the fair for his school and is running a booth showing his career choice, that sounds like he fits the definition more accurately. Now, I know that the main reason of why people recognize that the pistachio is to represent Adrien is because it's the color green and Luka's color is not green, it's blue. But let me introduce Viperion. I mean, Viperion is literally just Luka, even if he has a mask on it's still Luka.

Anyway! Moving foward through the episode, when Luka said "buddies", I felt that. It legit broke my lukanette stan heart to hear him say that they were just "buddies", but I digress.

Ok, I know that the main reason why Alec is roasting everyone's career choice is for his show (and to hide his inner turmoil), but damn, tone it done a bit will ya. In the end, Luka showed him, even if his way of showing him was to hold up a violin to the sky and let the wind play the instrument was kinda weird, I support whatever this kind and understanding boy does.

I know it is justified that lukanette is strictly platonic because the LS is going to be endgame, but I can't help but fan girl when I see my ship holding hands. Not to mention, the look that Marinette gives Luka is a look of adoration and love(even if it's just platonic).

We would like to welcome Bipierion to the running again. Like, come on, you can't tell me that the scene with the three talking doesn't look just a tad romantic. This whole scene, made my Luka stan heart just palpitate wildly. I mean, this whole scene; no, this whole episode is a bunch of examples of how Luka is such a mature and understanding character. This scene alone made me love Luka's character even more! Also, we FINALLY get to see Luka play the violin (and not just with the wind this time hehehe ;)) and can I just say, I totally love this scene, not only because it's with Luka playing the violin (though that may be the main reason) it's because I also play the violin so I kinda relate to this scene.

Continuing on with the episode, when Alec went into his inner turmoil and main backstory of why he is the way that he is, I was like, now I feel bad about him being trashed on, but he kinda deserved it soooo...Moving along! So, Wishmakers design. I don't know why, but Wishmakers design reminds me of Venom, or more specifically a drag queen version of Venom. And I fully support that, I mean you go get it, slay girl! Even if you are a villian.

So, Jagged’s childhood dream was to be a crocodile. I mean, I get a lot of people's childhood dreams were a bit far-fetched, but okay, you do you. Also, Mr. Banana's childhood dream was to be a cucumber? Umm ok...Anyway! Luka prioritizing others above himself, is just the icing of the cake as a Luka stan. (Not to mention, Luka already fully excepting Jagged as a dad is sooo, I can't express it into words how much I love that.)((Also, Jagged can't swim. Noted.)) Also, Luka and Jagged having a conversation about how Jagged wanted to be a crocodile as a kid, but he can't swim is so funny to me. And it also portrays more of Luka and Jagged's relationship a bit more, so I appreciate that.

It's time for a small detail mention! Luka's head tilt when he saw the dino huggie just made my Luka stan heart melt! Moving along, we get Luka or Viperion saving everyone, which just gave me a sense of joy! Also, Marinette as the knitting-fairy was so adorable!

Anywho, continuing on with the episode, with Luka finding out Marinette is Ladybug, you can see the realization in Luka's face when he realizes that the secret that she kept from him was that she was Ladybug, and you can hear the shakiness in his voice when he uses Second Chance after that, which shows even more how shocked he is. But, he still keeps his focus on the battle because now he has to protect Marinette's identity, which is just another of the many reason of why I love Luka's character. Ok, I have a small nitpick at this scene, and even though it's just a small detail in the scene I can't help, but comment on it. I know that Chat Noir is not in the right state of mind during that moment, but did he seriously not hear Viperion when he warned him to duck? But then again, I digress.

Moving on, I felt that, when Adrien found out that his childhood dream was to be what his parents wanted to be, because I also want to do that to, or mainly to just make them proud. Anyway, enough about me, let's continue on with the episode! Luka's face when he saw that Adrien was Chat Noir, really made me sympathize him. Because in Luka's eyes he finds out that are truly good partners (and I refuse to say "meant to be" because just no) and it is pretty obvious that he still has feelings for Marinette and that finding out that both Ladybug and Chat Noir are Marinette and Adrien must've broke his heart. I mean, you would react the same way if you found out that your crushes crush is their partner in crime (as some people might say).

Moving on! Umm, Barney is that you? I'm sorry I just really wanted to comment on that, also Lukadrien moment? Not to mention, how the heck can that dino huggie jump so high but hit the ground with a rumble? Then again, I'm not good with physics.

Okay, so let's quickly talk about Luka lying to Ladybug about knowing both the superheros identities. So, we know for a fact that Luka hates or at least dislikes lying, but in this moment he chose to lie, because he knows that it was the best option in this situation. The reason behind this is because he wants to protect Marinette, and I know that might sound confusing, but let me explain. Luka knows Marinette fairly well, and he knows that she has a tendency to overthink and freak out, so if Luka did tell her that he found out Marinette would freak out and start to think it's all her fault and that she should've been more careful and so on and so forth. This would make her a perfect victim for a akuma and Luka knows better than to let that happen, so he does one thing he knows will protect her, he lies to her.

Contiuing on, when Marinette said, "I will be Luka's best friend and I will love Adrien", I literally face palmed. I mean, I get it that the LS is bound to be endgame, but come on! Do we really need another reminder that it will happen eventually? Also, drag queen Alec? YASS QUEEN! SLAY QUEEN, SLAY!

And with that, we come to the end of the episode! So, I enjoyed the episode fairly well, with the exception of all the moments I salted it. But there are still so many questions that I have that are yet to be answered. Like, now that Luka knows both Ladybug and Chat Noir's secret identities, how will that revelation affect Luka's character in the show? Will their be others who find out their identities, and if so, how? (aka Alix) Will Luka's revelation affect how much screen time he gets on the show? And if so, will it increase or decrease? Will Alya find out that Luka knows? And, so much more. Not to mention, my opinion on Luka's revelation.

So, as I scroll through my social media, mainly instagram, I see posts where people read Luka's revelation as a way for him to also realize that the LS or Marinette and Adrien are "meant to be together", and though I respect those people's opinion, I don't really agree with it. I believe that Luka's revelation is just that. It's him finding out the truth that Marinette kept from him, and whether he decides to act more or be there more because of this is up to the writers and creators of the show. But I don't truly believe that that was a way to show that he ships them. I think he mainly supports Marinette's decisions and will always be there for her. And the reason of why I say this is because it is clear that Luka still has feelings for Marinette. I mean, come on, as I said in one of my comments during the episode, the realization on his face when he found out Chat's identity was full of sadness, contemplation, and maybe a bit of hurt. Which tells me that Luka still has at least some romantic feelings for Marinette. Not only that, he did the thing that he hates or dislikes most, lying, to protect her. But all in all I still enjoyed the episode and I can't wait to see where this revelation takes us.

I hope everyone has a great rest of their day and as always remember...

But that's just my opinion (・ε・)

(This took me FOREVER to finish, but at least it states my opinion and my little thoughts throughout the episode, even if it is a bit jumbled up :))

[avengerscompound]

It’s You and Me - Chapter 2

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1530

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Mentions of child abuse (including sexual), mentions of underage porn, snakes

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back.  Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you.  For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down.  Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father.  Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 2: Then

Clint had heard word about your arrival at the circus before he even saw you.  ‘Did you hear about the new girl?’  ‘Have you seen the new girl?’  ‘What do you know about the new girl?’

The circus was family and that family didn’t take new members very often.  They were picky about who was included.  Many would think that exclusivity would come out of a need for skilled performers.  That the new members would have to have something to bring to the big top. A talent that could be sold.  A new member would need to be able to walk a tightrope or swing on a trapeze.  Or at least have something special about them that people might pay money to see.

That wasn’t true at all.  The only thing you needed to join the Tiboldt Circus was to be desperate.  There was always a skill you could learn that would make you useful to the circus, and there were a lot of roles to fill.  It wasn’t unless you were truly desperate and you had no one else to turn that the circus would take you in.

So before Clint had even seen you, he’d heard all kinds of rumors about you, but the only thing he knew for sure was that you were desperate - because if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here.

He first spotted you coming out of Jacques’ trailer, frowning and straightening your clothes.  There was at least one rumor about you that had been true.  You were young.  At a guess, Clint would have said fifteen.  You were at that awkward, in-between phase where you were just starting to show the outlines of the adult you’d become, but you definitely were not an adult.  The fact you were coming out of Jacques’ trailer meant you were more desperate than Clint had thought, and it made the archers’ blood boil.

He stormed over to the trailer and slammed the door open.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”  Clint shouted.  Jacques was putting away the camera he’d just used to take your pictures.  He still tried to hide what he was doing with the girls he brought in here.  Everyone knew, but knowing and having evidence were two different things.  “She’s a kid you fucking pervert.”

Jacques looked at Clint incredulously.  “She has to pull her weight and with no skills, that gives her something to do.”

“That’s what you call something to do?”  Clint shouted.  “You’re a disgusting creep.  Leave her out of your fucking bullshit porn ring, you fucking monster.”

Jacques pulled himself up to his full height.  To the small boy who had been beaten by his parents and foster parents, the full six feet and four inches that the Swordsman stood were intimidating.  Now Clint was seventeen and could match Jacques both in height and skill, he was no longer scared of his mentor.  “I promised you that I’d never hit you, Clint,” Jacques snapped.  “Don’t make me a liar.  This is none of your business.  I didn’t do anything she didn’t agree to.”

“And what did you promise her to make her agree to anything, huh?”  Clint snarled back.  “Fucking sicko.”

Jacques poked Clint hard in the sternum.  “You know the rules.  We don’t snitch on family.  Now go sulk about it, like you always do.”

Clint huffed and turned around, slamming the door behind him.  The circus was the safest place he had ever known, but there were times like this he wanted to burn it to the ground.  He stalked off in the direction he had seen you head off in.  Of all the shitty things that the circus pulled, Jacques’ photography was the worst one.  He targeted underage girls, and it made Clint sick to know there was nothing he could do about it that wouldn’t have him kicked out onto the street.

He found you over near the animals getting a little too close to the tigers.  “That looks like as good a way to end it all as any,” Clint said.

You spun around and assumed a defensive position.  Clint was reminded of a wolverine for a moment.  Small but all teeth and claws.  It spoke a lot about what you must have been through that you were so young and so ready to fight.

“They’re tame aren’t they?”  You asked.

“Not that tame,” Clint replied.  “They need to get to know you first.”

“Oh,” you said, disappointment etched on your features.

“You like animals, huh?”  Clint asked.

You backed away from him a little, getting closer still to the tigers.  Clint held his hands up and stepped back.  “Seriously, kid,” he said.  “I know your experience might say otherwise, but those guys are the bigger threat.  I’m not going to touch you, okay?”

“Lots of people say that,” you said.

“Did Jacques touch you?”  Clint asked.

You looked at him with your eyes narrowed, sizing him up for a moment, before shaking your head.

“Took your pictures though, right?”  He asked.

He didn’t need to elaborate.  You knew what he meant by taking your pictures and you dropped your eyes and nodded.

“You shouldn’t have let him do that,” Clint said.

“He said I had to if I wanted to stay,” you said.  “Said it would just be pictures of me.  Nothing else.  And you and I both know there are worse things than some pictures.”

Clint sighed and nodded.  “Yeah, unfortunately, I do,” he agreed.  “But you don’t gotta do that.  They just want you to contribute.  That’s all.  They tried to get me to do things I didn’t want to do.  So I learned archery instead.”

You looked at him suspiciously.  “What could I do?  I don’t know how to do anything.”

“I could teach you,” Clint said.  “Acrobatics.  How to fight.  Make it so no one ever touches you again.  Unless you want them to.”

You didn’t say anything.  To be honest, Clint hadn’t expected you to.  He knew what it was like to be in your position.  Back then he would hide behind Barney and let him do all the talking and make all the decisions.  Clint had been so angry and mistrustful back then.  To be fair, that hadn’t changed too much.  With all the criminal activity that happened here, he still didn’t trust the people he considered family.  He still held on to a lot of anger too and it would come out in violent bursts of rage without a target to aim it at.

But he wanted to be better and to do better, and maybe he could save you from the shit that this place could drag you into and have it just be a safe spot.

“I get it,” Clint said with a nod.  “You don’t trust me.  I wouldn’t either.  But, I’ll be around.  And if you like I can talk to someone who works with the animals.  You can start by helping them out.”

“You’d do that?”  You asked.

Clint nodded.  “Yeah.  We aren’t all shit.  But you’ll probably be shoveling a lot of it.”

You laughed.  It didn’t last long.  More of a puff of air than anything.  But for a brief moment, a smile passed over your face, and it had been the first one he’d seen you wear.

“Just… keep away from Jacques,” Clint said.  “You don’t answer to him.  He’s not the boss here.”

You nodded again and seemed to go to say something, though you quickly changed your mind when two women appeared around the side of the tent.  Side-by-side they could have been sisters, standing the same height, with a similar complexion.  Even their hair was a similar color, though one’s sat in long, tight curls and the other was shorter and straighter.  The main difference between them was the woman on the right was covered in tattoos and the one on the left had unblemished skin.  She also carried a large python that had curled its way around her.

“Clint, there you are,” the tattooed woman said.  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“I’ve been around,” Clint said, trying to play it cool.  He’d had a crush on Eden for a while now, and recently it seemed to be reciprocated.  “Eden, Zelda this is… uhh…”  He paused and looked at you, realizing he didn’t know your name.  Thankfully you took the queue and quickly gave it to the two women.  “Zelda, you think you might have anything for her to do?  She likes animals.”

“You okay with snakes, sweetie?”  Zelda asked.

“Oh yeah,” you said, quickly.  “I think they’re really cool.”

“Come with me then,” she said.  “You can help me with the snakes.  Maybe I’ll talk to Tarrax or Major -” she looked over at Clint.  “Cleaning up elephant shit won’t be enough for long, you know?”

Clint nodded.  “I know.”

You followed after Zelda and Clint turned his attention to Eden.  “So you were looking for me, huh?”

Eden smirked and approached him.  “Was thinking we could go into the town.  See what trouble we can get into.”

Clint held out his elbow out to her.  “Darlin’, knowing you, it will be quite a lot.”

// NEXT

[springfieldblues]

my long ass review for S32E03 Now Museum, Now You Don’t

warning: LONG because i rambled about history more than i thought i would

id been looking forward to this one because i like art history, especially after seeing how they tried their best to stick to historical accuracy in the previous episode I, Carumbus. this time however….they didnt try that hard. i dont know why i thought theyd go through that sort of trouble again LMAO

but its okay, i dont really expect the simpsons to be the paragon of historical accuracy or anything. especially in anthology episodes told through a particular character's lens (in this case, lisa, whos already feverish so whatever)

first i just wanna say that this is, i guess, less of a review and more of an accidental list of history fun facts. so im just gonna get my general thoughts out of the way first.

the episode was fun! to me at least haha. i mean it got me to think and do a lot of research on my own so that must count for something. besides a couple of really weird ones, the jokes were good. anthology episodes tend to be….not that good but i thought this one was one of the better ones so far. idk.

anyway on to lisanardo da vinky its the renaissance! jesus christ the italian accents in the beginning of this segment were annoying as hell but i also feel like that was the joke lmao. ill be real i kind of tuned out for a second there when grampa started rambling so idk what he said.

i told myself i wouldnt get nitpicky with historical accuracy if the jokes were funny (final edit: so that was a lie) but this meh bit with the pizza guys and mascots was really not worth ignoring the fact that its impossible for italy to have any tomato-based food in the 15th century (tomatoes were brought to europe from the americas in the 16th century, and pizza as we know it today—flatbread, cheese, tomato—originated in the late 18th century)

oh this next part was kind of legit tho. lisanardo, like the real leonardo, became andrea del verrochio's apprentice at his workshop. i loved this next bit:

"Whoever paints the sweetest cherub will have the honor of having MY name signed on their work. That's what great artists do!"

SO YEAH as it turns out, lisanardo painted the sweetest cherubs. the painting here is called The Baptism of Christ, and the real leonardo assisted verrochio in finishing it. specifically, he painted the cherubs in the corner.

this causes verrochio to quit and go someplace with less talented people: a music school (yes, verrochio did quit painting after getting owned by young leo and his mad angel painting skills. he never did anything with music tho, he was more of a sculptor)

alongside lisanardo, in mr largo-verrochio's workshop we have barticelli (botticelli bart), dolphatello (donatello dolph), ralphael (raphael...ralph) and mediocrito (no one that i know of. sorry milhouse) (and kearney i guess but they dont refer to him by name). botticelli and donatello are said to have also been apprentices at verrochio's workshop, but raphael came a couple of decades later so he couldnt have been there. and donatello was too old so that claim is a bit questionable. but anyway

it IS true that leonardo's peers envied him, to the point where he was anonymously and purposefully accused of being gay (a major crime punishable by death in 15th century florence) while he was still working at verrochio's workshop

we are then treated by what im pretty sure is the fourth time the show has used 'at seventeen' by janis ian, this time sung by a dejected lisanardo (man they really do keep making yeardley sing these days huh) who only wishes to be appreciated and not envied.

"I'll show them all! I'll show them all in a secret diary that no one will decipher for 400 years!"

some of lisanardo's future inventions. who wouldve known

so after barticelli, for some reason (revenge??? or something?? what was his plan here idgi) steals lisanardo's diaries full of blueprints of her inventions and takes them to mr burns who i have to assume is pope alexander VI here, they decide to use her inventions for war.

"With these, we can kill the most evil people in the world!! ....Slightly different Christians."

leo actually did this of his own accord. im surprised this is what they decided to do with lisanardo instead of talking about leo's love of nature and vegetarianism (not a single mention of that in this episode? come on...) then again, trying to do good only to end up indirectly making things worse is a very standard lisa storyline. i guess they didnt want to miss the chance to have evil pope burns (very fitting, especially for that era since they were all about money and controlling the people)

so lisanardo decides to leave for france, unlike the real leonardo who was more or less persuaded by his ultimate fanboy king francis I to move to france.

"Lisanardo, I have many questions. Why are you hitting yourself? A nerd says 'what'? And how is it possible that I am rubber and you are glue? Et cetera, et cetera."

that line may seem a little random, like hes just nelson saying nelson things (and i mean, obviously he is) but the real francis also "had an unquenchable thirst for learning, and Leonardo was the world’s best source of experimental knowledge. He could teach the king about almost any subject there was to know, from how the eye works to why the moon shines." so yeah, he did have many questions and lisanardo, finally being appreciated for her intellect, was happy to answer them all. its very interesting how lisa assigned this role to nelson in her retelling of da vinci’s life :^)

and so she lived the rest of her days in france, nat king cole's 'mona lisa' plays because duh, and they make a da vinci code reference because duh. and the segment ends. and not a single time did they show the actual mona lisa painting. the fuck?

(ngl i was fully expecting bart to say 'leonardo da vinky' for a second here)

so this next segment is about french impressionist painters, most likely the batignolles group, a name adopted by the early representatives of impressionism. its much more vague than the lisanardo segment since no one here is referred to by name (except moe, more on him in a sec) but i dont feel like it really matters in this case. bart is prrrrooobably claude monet but its hard to say, this segment is kind of a mish-mash of a lot of things. also i gotta say i really liked how lisa introduced the story to bart with an 'if you hate the formal study of art' and not 'if you hate art' because thats exactly my headcanon. i LOVE the concept of artist bart and whenever its referenced it just makes perfect sense to me.

anyway the segment opens in 1863 at the école des beaux-arts (back then it was actually known as the académie des beaux-arts), preserver of traditional french art styles. skinner reviews his students’ paintings one by one. praises the plain, unimaginative paintings depicting your typical european countryside landscapes. very run-of-the-mill (haha get it...cuz theres….a windmill) (although the real académie didnt approve of such basic stuff, they wanted artists to draw epic historical and mythological scenes) then he gets to barts painting and he gives him an F- because the painting made him think.

(the paintings in this scene arent real famous paintings as far as i know but they are inspired by real paintings enough to get the point across)

in comes barney dressed as bacchus as a model for the students to sketch, which i just loved:

barney: “You prefer robe open or robe off?” skinner: “Just cover your privates with this walnut shell.” barney: “Whoa!!! So roomy!”

skinner gasps in horror at bart’s sketch, which “looks nothing like him” and bart explains that “it shouldn’t; we’re making the art that we feel because we can’t compete with a camera.” damn, you go bart. take that, realism. draw what you feel!!

(also no, you didnt need to hold still for 17 hours for a daguerreotype. 30 min tops.)

nelson haw-haw of the week: FOIE-gras!

so here they are at the moulin rouge (“enjoy it before baz luhrmann ruins it” hey shut up. i love that movie), which wouldnt be built for another 26 years, but it is the most widely known gathering place for bohemians in the public consciousness so i can understand why they went with the moulin. nelson delivers this anachronistic line:

“This époque keeps getting beller and beller!”

which alludes to la belle époque, the golden age of france usually dated from 1880 to 1914. made me snort so ill let that slide

and heres moe! as henri de toulouse-lautrec, who was actually born a year after the year this segment is set in. yo moe szyslak he was just 1

toulouse-moetrec introduces himself as the chronicler of the demimonde (not an actual job). an iconic figure associated with the moulin rouge (largely due to his affinity for alcohol and prostitutes), toulouse-lautrec was also a painter, having illustrated a series of posters for the moulin himself. he simply had to be in this segment, anachronisms be damned, just because they decided to include the moulin. cant have one without the other.

and yes he did have a walking cane where he kept his liquor.

i love how everyone drinks absinthe in this place. theyre bohemians what else would they drink

toulouse-moetrec points out that barts paintings are the greatest thing hes ever seen (and hes seen like five things!) and that hes a genius. milhouse realizes that they should stop doing what the teacher says and use their own minds to instead...start doing what bart says lmao. to the easels!

next we have skinner hyping up chalmers about the art his students made for the salon de paris, an art exhibition that the emperor of france will attend. he assures him that none of these paintings will encourage debate, provoke thought or be out of place at a dentist’s office. when they unveil the art, theyre both SHOCKED at how scandalous the paintings actually are.

this reaction was kind of accurate. impressionism was severely rejected at the salon de paris, due to paintings not looking finished enough to them, they thought they were ugly and vulgar for depicting nudity in a contemporary setting (historical and mythological nudity was fine). these impressionist paintings were sent to the salon de refusés, which is. yeah. the place where they sent the rejects. the salon de refusés does not make an appearance but this scene makes a reference to it when the artists get expelled from the royal salon. also:

“What about our student loans?” “Oh they’ll be refunded. We are not barbarians, I mean, come on.”

(god if only)

so the painters are down because they want the emperor to actually see their paintings. toulouse-moetrec pipes in once again with an idea.

“There is one thing the emperor loves more than anything.” “France?” “No, he hates France.”

apparently the emperor really loves cheese, which makes sense since its napoleon III (who loved cheese) and homer (who loves cheese.) so the painters roll into the salon inside a giant wheel of cheese (obviously.) as lenny said, “Eh, you know French cheese. Very runny.” napoleon III chases after the wheel into a room, where the wheel falls apart after getting chomped on by the emperor. now that they got his attention, the painters proudly show the emperor their impressionist art, which he couldnt be more indifferent about because he just wants to eat his cheese dammit, and he awards them with the royal medallion just to kind of get them out of his way. skinner immediately starts kissing ass (as he does) until marge’s like ‘hey wait a minute. you expelled these students from the royal salon’ and an executioner immediately starts ominously measuring skinners neck.

“Uh, sir...is your tongue sticking out because you’re dead or because you’re mad at me?”

and thats the end of that lmao (gore in this episode, gore in the last episode, and next week we’re getting gore too cuz its THOH, what the hell is goin on)

we get a short intermission with maggie, who wants a story for her too! lisa tells her that renaissance artists loved to put babies in their paintings, especially baby angels.

here she is showing her The Triumph Of Galatea by raphael:

King David Playing The Harp by peter paul reubens:

and a very simplified version of pretty much any depiction of hell by hyeronimus bosch lmao:

not much else to say about this one, really. but i really liked that sky!

the last segment is about frida kahlo and diego rivera. or as bart puts it ‘the one about a fat guy whos wife is too good for him.’ i was REALLY looking forward to this one because i love frida and i thought itd be a cool opportunity for animators to go bonkers and do really cool shit with her art as inspiration…..but the segment is not about frida, its about diego and his selling out to capitalism. and its also yet another story with homer and marge drama. no funky cool animation here. sigh i guess i’ll take it

the story begins in 1929 at la casa azul, frida’s home (now museum dedicated to her life and work.) frida and diego are getting married. this courtyard definitely did not look this way yet back in 1929. also theres something very cringy yet funny about lovejoy saying spanish words the way he does, i honestly cant decide how i feel about that one

the writers know theyre being cringy with their gringoness so they go along with it.

moe: “Spanish for ‘best wishes’!” mel: “Spanish for ‘congratulations’!” bumblebee man: “Spanish for ‘muy bueno’!”

OH YEAH BUMBLEBEE MAN this is his new voice actor, eric lopez! hes not mexican but its still great to finally have a latino actor voicing a latino character and hes very excited to be part of the show so i hope to hear more of him!! im rooting for him

el barto/zorro makes an appearance which i am very confused about. he has jack shit to do with frida and diego and mexico in the 20s-30s. el zorro was set in the spanish california of the early 19th century. their use of the original theme song makes me think they just wanted to flex their disney privileges tbh

lets not talk about that that whole scene was bad

anyway diego announces he and frida are going to new york, without even asking her first. frida is obviously pissed.

“Don’t worry, as a woman, you’ll be treated with much more respect in America.”

so in new york, diego is having a bit of a business meeting with mr burns as one of the members of the rockefellers, who is commissioning him to draw a mural for the rockefeller center. its kinda funny how he refers to him and frida as socialists even though they were very much communists lmao its okay you can say it. ok so far, but then frida says ‘yes, we hate the capitalists! right now, a young socialist is being born who will take them down! mr. bernie sanders. i hope hes quick about it’ and that was a simple enough joke and couldve been left at that but then its immediately followed by this weird as fuck family guy-esque cutaway gag to bernie as a baby:

“Getting a cootie shot should not cost your lunch money. And if you don’t listen to me, listen to the Bernie Babies! What? Everybody’s got goons.” *larger babies start beating up this other baby* “I disavow that, and welcome it.”

this confused me so much that i had to ask one of my american friends to help me understand, but even she was like ‘uhhh yeah thats a weird joke,’ especially now that hes been out of the race for months (then again these episodes take almost a year to produce. i guess they couldnt be bothered to replace it with something more relevant.) whatever that was weird and confusing and unfunny moving on

frida is pretty irked that diego is going through with this deal. after all, it goes against everything they believe in. im not sure how the real frida felt about diego doing the mural, but she did feel a bit of rage during her visit to the united states, especially the obvious disparity between rich and poor. she hated having to interact with capitalists and found americans very boring. in this segment, frida seems to be acting more like the american communist party, which diego got kicked out of for accepting commissions from wealthy patrons. in any case, frida is pretty upset about this whole thing.

and finally we get the first and only kind of surreal frida moment. kinda. maybe. its more cartoonish than anything but im desperate ok

interesting how they felt like they had to add a “don’t smoke” in big letters after showing patty and selma flying away on their giant cigarettes. i wonder if this is something theyre making them do now? i remember hearing something about them toning down patty and selma’s smoking

diego comes home to frida, drunk as hell, followed by the marx brothers. i cant believe they didnt make a marxism joke come on it was RIGHT THERE. THE MARX BROTHERS. KARL MARX. COME ON

frida paints her feelings.

this makes diego realize that frida is a genius and he is not half the artist she is. he proclaims he will now show his awe of her by sleeping with other women, starting “an hour ago.” to which frida replies, “and i will start sleeping with other women, starting two hours ago.” yes this was pretty much their relationship. though im just wondering how the hell did diego not know frida was this kind of artist until now? i know homers an idiot but jeez. art was how frida and diego met, diego knew from the get-go that frida was an incredible artist. i guess the fame got to his head or something. again, homer just being stupid.

“well enough already, while the art is still deco, okay?”

its time for the mural diego painted, Man At The Crossroads, to be unveiled:

rockefeller examines it. good and great so far, and then...uh oh

“Who’s that fellow…? With the beard, and the bolshevik smile…” “That’s the founder of Soviet Russia, Lenin!”

“B-b-but he’s a communist!” “Oh he just attended a couple of meetings.”

rockefeller will not have this communist in the temple to capitalism that is the rockefeller center, so he orders diego to paint over it. diego stands his ground and refuses. despite rockefeller’s threats, diego says that theres only one person he wants to be proud of him no matter what and in true homer & marge fashion, frida is touched by this. they happily leave the rockefeller center.

now, the real story of Man At The Crossroads and the rockefeller center was actually not that different. as soon as the rockefellers found out diego had snuck in a portrait of lenin into the mural, they ordered him to paint over it, to which he refused. diego even offered to include abraham lincoln and even american abolitionists in the mural as a compromise, but the rockefellers simply did not want any references to communism whatsoever. they did not complain about the hammer and sickle, though. yes, they did know diego was a communist and hired him anyway. what did they expect? lmao. diego said:

"Rather than mutilate the conception [of the mural], I shall prefer the physical destruction of the conception in its entirety, but preserving, at least, its integrity."

so they decided to destroy the mural before it was even finished and they never talked to each other again.

diego then repainted the mural at the palacio de bellas artes back in mexico, this time known as Man, Controller of the Universe. this new version included even more communist leaders and a depiction of john d. rockefeller jr. drinking at a nightclub, right underneath a depiction of syphilis bacteria. cue nelson haw-haw:

this was the version they used in the episode also, since the original was, well, never finished and also destroyed. only a black and white photograph of it exists, taken by diego before it was destroyed so he could remake it.

right so, homer!diego then pulls a Barthood and finishes the episode with a large mural summarizing the entire episode. he says some rick and morty thing i didnt get because i dont watch the show idk idc

the end

ALRIGHT NOW ITS TIME FOR THE STORY OF VINCENT VAN MOE

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Tap Out Job

leverage 2.02

Jack: Somebody drugged his water. It's an old boxing trick. He couldn't defend himself, and... He's still in the hospital.

that’s fucked

- - - - -

Eliot: It's not a cockfight. All right? Let me show you something, Hardison. Come here. Can I borrow you? (puts a gentle hand on Parker’s hip, guiding her to the open space behind the couch) All right. Square up. Remember what I showed you?

(Hardison and Parker square up)

Hardison: Are you...

Eliot: There's three phases to an MMA--to an MMA fight, okay? One, striking. (Parker punches Hardison in the face) Nice. Next is grappling, the takedown. (Parker grabs Hardison and throws him on the floor) Exactly. All right. The third one is jujitsu. Okay, try to isolate a joint. (Parker gets Hardison in a hold) That's good. That's a textbook armbar, Parker. Put some pressure on there.

Parker: Like this?

Eliot: There you go. Or you can go for a choke hold.

Hardison: She got to be choking me. (tries to get away)

Eliot: Remember that thing that I showed you?

Parker: Oh, yeah. The choke.

Eliot: Lock that in. All right. You don't have to hold the arm. See, that's a triangle choke. That's nasty. Puts pressure on his carotid artery, and the guy will submit by tap out.

Hardison (tapping the ground): Eliot, I'm tapping! I'm tapping!

Eliot: These fights are won by inches, I'm telling you.

Hardison: I can't breathe!

Eliot: All about leverage.

Sophie: Yeah, it looks really painful.

Hardison: It is painful!

Nate: No TV deal, you said, huh? Hardison, what are this guy's other interests, this Rucker guy?

Hardison: Seriously, you ask me a question right now...

Sophie: I'll take that. Yeah, rotary club, golf membership.

Nate: Golf, huh?

Hardison: Help me!

Sophie: Yeah. I mean, this guy's like a 1950s sitcom character. He plays a weekly game with the local businessmen. In fact, last year, he won the club championship.

Nate: Did he? Hmm.

Hardison: Let me go!

Nate: I guess it's...

Hardison: She's killing me!

Nate: …it's time to hit the links.

Hardison: I'm cool. Just let me go real quick.

eliot canonically teaches parker how to fight in his spare time and I LOVE THAT

fucking CHAOTIC OT3 + parker is having a great time while hardison is dying

ALSO can we just for a minute appreciate how when she puts him in a chokehold she was wrapping her legs around his neck, which basically had his head in her crotch area and !!! it wasn’t sexualized at al !!! literally A N Y other show would have sexualized it even just a little bit but not leverage. never leverage.

- - - - -

I love it when they fuck with peoples gear (like with the baseballs or hockey pucks or in this instance the golf balls)

- - - - -

parker playing with the golf club covers

- - - - -

literally EVERY con has nate being an asshole (this one was one of the more annoying ones tho)

- - - - -

hi I am but a simple bi and eliot in that grey hoodie was VERY attractive

- - - - -

Room Service: Room service. Can I help you?

Sophie: Yeah, no, I can't eat this. I'm sorry?

Everything on my plate is yellow.

Room Service: It's chicken-fried steak.

Sophie: It's what? Chicken-fried steak?

Room Service: Yes.

Sophie: No, let me just tell you, all right. Meat should never be used as an adjective.

~ a little while late ~

Sophie: I'm starving.

Parker: I found these in the minibar. (throws her a bag)

Sophie: "Pork Rinds"? How do you peel a pig? (throws it back)

- - - - -

Hardison: Got it. See, Online video websites, they track viewer hits by IP Address, so the trick is to just spoof a bunch of IPs, then write a script that lets you browse the video page via the proxy list and...

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, this guy, he just--he give me the creeps.

Eliot: We've gone up against rougher dudes than this before.

Sophie: I know. But it's this whole treating people as commodities. This whole barbaric sport.

Eliot: Hey, don't lump these guys in with Rucker. All right, he's not what the sport's about.

Sophie: Eliot, this "sport" is about two guys beating the crap out of each other.

Eliot: MMA fighters act with more respect than any other athlete I've seen.

Sophie: Yeah, they're "Braveheart," I get it.

Eliot: No, you don't. These guys don't fight because they like hurting other people, all right. They fight to gain some sort of control over their opponents, over their environment, over their lives. Have you seen this town? Huh? The farms are drying up. The only stores are bail bondsmen and pawn shops, and there's nothing they can do about it. So, yeah, they get in the ring and try not to let it all suffocate them. (a beat, he smiles) And it's about two guys beating the crap out of each other. (she smiles back)

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a green flannel in this one and it looks very nice and comfy

- - - - -

Rucker: Well, bottom line is, you need good product. What event are you here to produce?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: On it. There's a tractor pull in grand island, a livestock show in council bluffs, white people doing other white things…

pls keep calling out white people pls we deserve it lmfao

- - - - -

Director (in car looking at his phone): Come on! Come on! Give me something! Come on! Is this gonna take long?

Nate (through window): No. Two shakes. Are you in a hurry?

Director: Even half a bar... what? Yes. Hurry. Does anyone in this backwater hellhole know what that means?

Nate: You're a director, right? What was your name again?

Director: What? It's Laurence. Todd Laurence.

Nate: Todd, well, listen, Mr. Laurence. See, I wrote a script...

Director: Huh?

Nate: Yeah. It's about a limo driver who solves mysteries till his wife leaves him for --

Director: For the love of god!

Nate: ...the best part: The feed store manager. Right? His wife…

Director: Yeah...?

Nate: Tramp...

Director: Hey, hee-haw, move the car! Okay

- - - - -

parker in leather pants, a bright yellow ‘I heart Nebraska’ tshirt and weird hat, eating a corn dog? ,,,a look I guess

- - - - -

Hardison (showing passes): So, I'm Todd Laurence? (girls flock to Hardison) Ladies, please, look. For the last time, I am not the tailback for the cornhuskers. Go! I don't even know what a cornhusker is.

- - - - -

Rucker: And all you need is a product?

Sophie: Well, that's what they are: Products. You get the girls with Trianna, you get the boys with MMA. And there's always another fresh-faced princess ready to go through the singing/dancing mill in Florida. Occasionally, we let one be a lesbian, keeps the press on their toes

- - - - -

Hardison: What? What? W-what was I supposed to do? It was cousin Jimmy.

Sophie: He's right. We couldn't have planned for that.

Hardison: Look, you know what I can do? I can re-task a satellite, I can get a level 3 NSA clearance, but I can't hack a hick

- - - - -

Eliot: All right, it doesn't matter. What do we do now?

Parker: We can move the Howorth.

Eliot: We're not moving the Howorths. All right? This is their home. That means something to people here.

Sophie: Yeah, we can't babysit them forever.

Nate: We've taken out bigger players than this. You know, there's got to be some way, something we can...

Eliot: No, no! I take the dive.

Sophie: You sure?

Hardison: Give me some time, okay? I've found some funny business in Rucker's accounts. I can move some things.

Eliot: Forget the fact that we just got beat by Barney Fife, all right? This is the right move. Tactically it's the right move. You all know that. (walks away)

none of them want to see eliot hurt more than he needs to or see him go down like that and I cry

alec ‘give me five minutes I will do literally anything for eliot’ hardison

- - - - -

Sophie: Hey. Listen, you-you don't have to do this, you know. Nate's gonna come up with something.

Eliot: I'm losing a fight, Sophie. I'm not diving on a grenade. I'll be all right.

Sophie: Yeah, I know. I'm not talking physically.

Eliot: I think my ego can handle it.

Sophie: Look, you told me that it's about control, about knowing that you're never gonna be the victim. And that's what keeps you going, right?

Eliot: You think I'm upset 'cause I got to let this guy kick my ass? I learned a long time ago, you can't control the violence. I can take the punishment. That's what I do. What I need to control is not out there. (touches his chest) It's here. Always.

(Sophie smiles and walks away)

- - - - -

hardison holds eliots face before he fights I never noticed that before

+ eliot’s hair is curly when it’s wet/when he’s sweaty. this means he blowdries his hair on a regular basis. eliot, as a part of taking control of himself and his life after moreau took interest in self care and taking care of his hair in this essay I will-

- - - - -

one thing I love about this is that eliot doesn’t have a six pack (see this commentary I made with a few lovely additions by my mutuals)

- - - - -

Jack: Where's Rucker?

Hardison: Oh, the Iowa State Police just got a tip that a fugitive is headed into their jurisdiction. And I'm pretty sure crossing state lines with a bag full of cash won't look too good.

Parker: Especially when they find the little surprise in his trunk.

[Flashback, Pawn Shop]

Parker: I need guns. (dumping money on counter) $6,000 worth. And one of those.

LMFAO THERE WAS A TUBA TOO

- - - - -

Doctor (examining Eliot): You took a hell of a pounding. We should get you a CT scan. You could have internal bleeding.

Jack: You let yourself get hammered like that on purpose? That's a hell of a lot of punishment to take.

Sophie: That's what he does.

- - - - -

eliot held the rope up for parker to step under when they were getting out of the ring

- - - - -

Sophie (to Parker): Pork rind? They're actually pretty good. (parker shakes her head and rubs her stomach) You sure?

sophie nO

[yellowocaballero]

Cod(a) Monkey

Forgot to post this earlier. Epilogue to my Half-life story Code Monkey , which is a 90s stoner comedy flick except Black Mesa. Probably understandable without it, though. Not canon to that story, but consider it a sort of alt ending. 

Written because my friend was upset that Barney and Gordon never got that beer, so it’s dedicated to @magickkart. The Half Life 2 story is still in the works! It’ll be a bit long. 

Rest under the cut. 

“I don’t feel pain,” Gordon said. “So no. But I went to a concert, and it was very heavy on bass and drums. Good vibrations. Kind of like a gun’s vibrations, but more purposeful.”

“The symphony of violence,” Barney said with a straight face, using the sign for ‘abuse’ and passing the finger past the fist very empathetically, several times, as he always did whenever he felt the need to describe the way Gordon killed things. “Is the mosh pit where you learned the Rambo thing?”

“Sure, Barney. Sure it is.”

“Because I really don’t think you were born a superpowered killing machine -”

“There’s no superpowers involved. I really don’t know how else to explain it to you.”

“You cannot just be a genetic assassin -”

“Guns aren’t hard, Barney. You just press A.”

“What does that mean -”

“What I don’t understand,” Barney said that night, over clammy mugs of beer and sticky wooden tables, “is what Black Mesa was going to do with the world once they took it over. I mean, they were already a shadowy government agency in the most powerful government in the world with unlimited funding that basically did whatever they wanted. What were they going to do, increase our salaries?”

If it wasn’t for the fact that Barney had learned a lot of esoteric vocabulary just to be able to talk to Gordon for hours about his alien and Illuminati conspiracy theories, Gordon reflected, then they really would have been in trouble at Black Mesa. 

“That would have been nice,” Gordon said contemplatively, gently sipping at his beer. He was far from a lightweight, but he had to be careful not to overdrink when he went out with Barney. Guy could drink the entire bar under the table and barely even get dizzy. It was almost unnerving, and raised the question of if anybody who was an ex-employee at Black Mesa was a normal human being, but some Pandora’s Boxes should just stay shut. “I liked my salary.”

“Yeah.” Barney sadly chugged more beer. “I’m not going to miss that job, but I feel like I’m going to miss having a job, you know?”

Mittens licked one of the onion rings sitting in a basket on the table. Gordon stroked Mittens on her head as she pressed up against his hand affectionately. 

This wasn’t their usual bar. Their usual bar was on Black Mesa property, and Black Mesa was currently having a bad case of the crabs right now. When Gordon casually mentioned that to Barney his shoulders started shaking from laughter, but he refused to explain what was funny. So far, Gordon already missed their old bar. It was well-lit, making it easy to talk, completely sterile and anti-bacterial, and had hazardous waste bins. And everyone always knew your name. 

But it wasn’t too bad, for a random bar. They let Gordon and Barney sit on the patio with Mittens in a secluded corner, and it was well enough lit that they could still talk. Random people kept on staring at them, sometimes for an uncomfortable amount of time, and while Gordon was fairly used to it Barney wasn’t. Barney had hesitantly asked if it was because the white lab coat Gordon still wore was dyed half-red with blood, but as that was the natural state of a theoretical physicist’s labcoat Gordon really didn’t see the issue. 

“What other job can I even get?” Barney griped. “My degree isn't good for anything. I was just a rent-a-cop for the last three years. I’m homeless, at least for right now, since my dorm is infested with murderous aliens. I can’t even go back there to get my stuff until the military kills off all the aliens. This sucks.”

“It’s a common Gen X problem,” Gordon said, with a straight face as he scratched Mittens’ ruff. Her purr vibrated happily under his hand. “Divorce, MTV, and reduced adult supervision made us incomplete adults.”

“I miss MTV,” Barney said. “Man, that was just like, high school. The memories, man. We’ll never get the 80s back.”

“I was never really into MTV.”

“Really? You never watched it? Not even for the babes?”

“I never really understood the appeal of babes,” Gordon said, with a straight face. 

“Yeah, I forgot, sorry.” They sat there for a little bit, not talking, as Barney both chugged his beer and seemed to be thinking really hard about something. Finally, he said, “Cute dudes on MTV too. Like, uh...Prince.”

“Prince.”

“Michael Jackson, you know.”

“Yeah, I know Michael Jackson.” Gordon gently freed an onion ring from the cold embrace of Mittens. “College roommate at MIT showed me Nirvana, actually. I liked it.”

“Really? I can see that. Very inner pain.” Barney squinted at Gordon. “Do you have inner pain?”

“I don’t feel pain,” Gordon said. “So no. But I went to a concert, and it was very heavy on bass and drums. Good vibrations. Kind of like a gun’s vibrations, but more purposeful.”

“The symphony of violence,” Barney said with a straight face, using the sign for ‘abuse’ and passing the finger past the fist very empathetically, several times, as he always did whenever he felt the need to describe the way Gordon killed things. “Is the mosh pit where you learned the Rambo thing?”

“Sure, Barney. Sure it is.”

“Because I really don’t think you were born a superpowered killing machine -”

“There’s no superpowers involved. I really don’t know how else to explain it to you.”

“You cannot just be a genetic assassin -”

“Guns aren’t hard, Barney. You just press A.”

“What does that mean -”

It was at that moment that a waitress, looking somewhat startled by Barney’s incredibly expressive and sweeping signing, approached them and asked Barney something. They chatted for a bit - judging by Barney’s smile and the woman’s easy grin, he was flirting with her again, like he did with every waitress. 

“She wants to know if you want a refill,” Barney reported. 

Barney tilted his fist, pushing the mug that he hadn’t realized was empty to the waitress and giving her his best polite smile, which made her flinch in fear and take the cup, disappearing quickly. Was it the lab coat, or was Gordon really just that bad at looking polite?

��But you’re changing the subject,” Barney said, when she ran off, seemingly uncaring that Gordon had torpedoed his flirting attempts. “Why would Black Mesa make a deal with the alien armies to take over the world? And what musicians did you have a crush on as a kid?”

“That question is so esoteric and obscure that the answer is almost unfathomable.”

“Stop using complicated signs, asshole, this is my fourth language.” After a second of translation, Barney followed that up with, “Okay, which question was that in response to?”

“Yes.”

“Now you’re just being an asshole,” Barney accused, and Gordon surprised himself by barking a laugh. 

“Maybe I am an asshole,” Gordon teased, unfamiliar with the concept but willing to give it a shot, “but I’m your asshole.”

For some reason, that made Barney flush very red, and finish his beer very quickly before moving Mittens aside to stuff some onion rings in his mouth. Finally, after Barney seemed to collect himself, he weakly offered, “Never thought I’d see Gordon Freeman admit that we were friends.”

“Some things you can’t experience together without admitting that you’re friends, and defeating an alien hoard is one of them,” Gordon joked. Wow. Two jokes in one day. Might as well put on the face paint and the red nose, he was becoming a comedian. Maybe all of the crowbars to the skull had cracked him. 

But Barney just squinted at him. “Are you quoting something?”

“That kid’s book that everyone’s talking about?”

“What?” Barney snapped his fingers in thought, before lighting up. “Oh, Harry Potter! I keep meaning to check that out. My little sister keeps talking about it.”

“They’re pretty good.” Gordon read it in case someone asked him what bonding activities he did with his fake son. “I’ll lend you my copy.”

“When your dorm’s no longer full of aliens.”

“Yeah. When my dorm isn’t full of aliens.”

“But that’ll be soon,” Barney said, smiling hesitantly and hopefully and fearfully, “right?”

“You know, Barney,” Gordon said, picking up Mittens and putting her in his lap as she purred gratefully, “I really think all of this will just blow over. And everything’ll go back to normal.”

“That’s good to know.”

And it was. 

[banashee]

Part 6/25 of my @badthingshappenbingo​ round 2

Prompt: Denied food as a punishment

This is also Part 1 of a new series: “Like a ghost in the back of my mind”

please mind the tags and warnings!

 A growing emptiness

 A big part of his childhood, Clint spends either hungry or worrying about food.

 He learns early on to take food whenever possible, because the likelihood of there not being any later is high. Most of the time, it’s due to poverty. This is often paired with his father (or later, other caretakers) spending money on booze rather than food. Satisfying their own needs instead of feeding the kids. Sadly, he is used to it and so he learns to eat whenever possible, whatever he can get his hands on any. Clint isn’t picky at all.

 He’ll eat something even though it may be off. Clint has scraped mold off of bread more than once, forced himself to choke down something he doesn’t like at all, because it’s still better than nothing.

 Sometimes, when things get bad, he’ll steal food.

 He is ashamed of it, but not enough to stop. Running from someone who is angry he took some sort of fruit or vegetable from their garden is much preferred to digging through a trashcan. He does that, too. Some days, he’s got no other choice, especially if he managed to piss off Duquesne or Chisholm and they decide to cut him off.

 “Pissing them off” can mean many things, and as much as Clint can be sassy or big mouthed when he wants to, more often than not, it’s not even anything he said.

 He might not train hard enough to their liking, he might fail because he is sick or distracted. Any number of things that are out of his control.

 Sometimes, they just feel like it. “You owe us your life” they’ll say, or “I decide if you’ll eat or not. Today you won’t.”

 Clint gets used to this, too. It is one of the biggest reasons he’ll hoard food whenever he can get any. Occasionally, Barney or Chisholm will find it, and then all hell breaks loose, leading to more yelling, more bruises, more cuts or broken bones.

 He is more careful after that. Clint also gets used to ignoring hunger - he’s been used to it long before, but living the way he does only makes it worse.

 It’s not until much, much later when Clint is an adult and with SHIELD that he realizes just      how     fucked up his upbringing really was.

 Yes, it hurt, and yes it sucked, in countless different ways. But he never knew anything else back then.

 The thing is, if it happened to anyone else, he’d have started a riot for their cause. But him? That’s just how things are and better deal with it he kept telling himself.

 Now, that Clint is older and out of this environment,  he has learned that, despite his experiences, not all people are bad.

 There are people who love and support him, people who see more in him than someone who is worth something because of his skillset. People who see him as a friend because of him, and not what he can do.

 Until he gets there, it is a long way.

 Clint doesn’t trust anyone, avoids personal interactions whenever possible. It’s easier to protect himself that way. The one exception is Agent Phil Coulson, who has recruited him - that is, he pulled him out of a shithole and offered a new job, a new life. Him being his assigned handler helps, too. No one else wants to deal with him, and he’s okay with that.

 He’ll do his job and do whatever is asked of him, but he doesn’t want anyone around him, really. People mean risk means attack means loss of control.

 Never again.

 Apart from the obvious, working with SHIELD also means a lot more freedom than he had before. Sure, he’d spent 3 years on the streets and working highly illegal jobs, but he really doesn’t count “on the run” as freedom. The army, circus or foster care don’t come anywhere near that word and neither does any other part of his childhood.

 Now, he has legal work with times and places to be when it’s ordered, but he’s got a place to go back to, a bed to sleep in and a cafeteria that’s open 24/7.

 If he is being honest, that last part is kind of overwhelming. Especially in the first days and weeks, he expects the access to it to be revoked at any time, to find the doors closed some day. It never happens, but it doesn’t stop him from squirreling more bread rolls and packets of chips for later into his pockets. No one notices, or if they do, no one calls him out of it. It is as good as permission as it gets.

 The thing is: Clint is used to starvation. He never really had regular meals, it was always eat whatever you can, how much you can and then hide more for bad times. Sometimes, that meant 6000 calories in one day and a few granola bars over the course of the next week.

 It’s a pattern he is used to, and as such, his visits to the cafeteria are few and far between, but he does pack away more than most when he is there.

 Clint doesn’t think anyone would care enough to notice.

 He is wrong.

 Clint has been with SHIELD for several months when Phil Coulson approaches him after a meeting. There are other Agents present, so he simply tells him, “Barton, a word please.” while walking past, trusting that he’ll follow him. He does.

 When the door to Coulson’s office closes behind then, Clint asks,

 “What’s up, boss?”

 “Sit, please. This isn’t strictly work-related, but it worries me.” Phil knows he needs to be careful how he approaches this situation, because Barton doesn’t trust most people. He does, however, trust him, which is half the reason he is talking to his asset about this when most would have booked him an appointment with psych with no questions asked. In this case, it would be a sure way to lose whatever trust Barton managed to build in the past few months since he joined the organisation.

 Clint sits down on the chair across from Coulson, frowning. He isn’t sure where this is going, and he hates that.

 “Yes?” he asks curtly, waiting for more explanation.

 Coulson speaks deliberately, keeping his body language open. The last thing he wants is for this to come across as accusatory.

 “It’s something I noticed, and to be honest, I think you need help. Ever since you joined us, I’ve never seen you eat anything for more than a few times a week. Let alone multiple times a day. Not here or when we are out on missions…”

 A deep flush creeps up Barton's neck. He isn’t angry, which surprises him. But he is deeply embarrassed that someone noticed his patterns.

 “Oh.” he says, and stays silent for a bit. Thankfully, Coulson lets him, waits for him to say anything else.

 “It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

 Except, it isn’t fine.

 It’s never affected his work before, but things get stressful and then, a mission goes to shit in all the wrong ways.

 The circumstances are out of anyone's control, but when it gets down to it, people die and Clint, who has a bullet stuck in his shoulder, can’t react fast enough to save them all.

 He finally gets a clear shot and with pain shooting through him, he manages to bring down the men who shot a group of civilians and two of their agents just seconds before, saving the remaining people. Unfortunately, they can’t do anything to help either their two agents or the family that was captured by them. One teenanger, a toddler and two adults. All of them are dead.

 He failed.

 Cold dread and nausea rise in Clint, and he manages to find an empty corner of the rooftop he is perched on before he is sick all over the place.

 He is dry heaving while the Senior Agent whose name he keeps forgetting yammers into the commlink, causing it to blow out with certain tones that are painful despite his already shitty hearing. The sensation makes it all worse, but Clint can’t talk, choking and coughing still, when suddenly, his private channel to Coulson crackles to life.

 It’s always in place, no matter what. Clint doesn’t trust anyone else like he trusts Coulson, and he appreciates him looking out for him that way. He is always more comfortable, when he knows that there is a line of communication open with him.

 “Barton, status report. Talk to me.”

 Clint chokes on air and stomach fluid again - there isn’t anything but water that he could throw up, but his body is reacting violently. There is blood, dripping from his shoulder and soaked uniform onto the floor. As much as he wants to say anything, he can’t.

 “Stay put, I’m coming.”

 With the other Senior Agent still yelling over the comms, with the pain, guilt and panic in his chest and dizziness in his head, Clint can’t focus on anything. He collapses on the floor, uncaring whether or not he lands in the mess, gasping for air and trying to get a grip on himself.

 Then, Coulson appears by his side. He faintly notices that he is talking to him, but he can’t make out his words. He is too far gone, and then he starts to black out. Part of Clint is glad that he can blame the tears in his eyes on pain from his bullet wound and the fact that he’s spent the last few minutes throwing up violently, but even in his sorry state, he knows he’s fucked up.

 When Clint wakes up, he does so in a hospital bed, drugged with pain medication. He hates it immediately, because hospitals, in his experience, are one of the unsafest places one could ever be in. He’s forced to stay in bed, hooked up to machines or IV lines, people know where he is and who he is and there is no way of defending himself in this state.

 His heartbeat speeding up and breathing gets hard. Before he can do anything else, a warm hand is placed onto his arm, and it takes Clint a while to realize that it’s Coulson, who is talking to him, trying to help and he doesn’t leave.

 Clint is too out of it to say or do anything about it. After a while, he falls back asleep.

 He doesn’t eat.

 The nurses pick up full trays every time, and they, along with the doctors and most of all, Coulson, express their concern.

 “I’m not hungry.” he insists every time, and gets more irritated with every attempt to talk about this.

 It must be a trick - Clint knows he fucked up, people died because of him. There is no reason he should eat - if he tries to take anything, things will get so much worse, and in his current state, he would be unable to defend himself. Better not risk it - he isn’t going to eat.

 At this point, Clint isn’t even half aware of how wrong this mindset is, and just how much damage was done to him over the years to believe all of those things. Another reason for this, that only occured recently: it is his way to stay in control over himself. No one can force him to eat, and no one can take it away from him.

 He is the one in control, even when he loses weight quicker than ever.

 Medical wants to keep him there, not because his injuries would demand it, but because he isn’t taking anything but liquids.

 Clint disagrees - he is fine, he insists, and takes the next opportunity to bolt when it presents itself.

 He hides out in his bathroom, doors locked, sitting on the cold tile floor and shaking apart.

 He is overwhelmed, anxious with guilt, nauseous from hunger and crying soundlessly out of sheer habit. It doesn't matter - there is no one around to watch him.

 Part of him is angry and disappointed with himself - being with SHIELD was the best chance he’s ever had, and he messed up after such a short amount of time. The aftermath sure doesn’t help, and all he wants is to get away. It might be less painful than being kicked out.

 He doesn’t know what to do, so Clint just keeps hiding until there is somebody at his front door,  knocking intently. He curses it, but eventually drags himself to the door and opens - he knows he can’t escape forever.

 To his surprise, he isn’t faced with an entire team of agents to be hauled away. The only person there is his handler, and Phil Coulson looks more worried than anything else. His frown only deepens when he sees Clint.

 To be fair, he really doesn’t look good at all. He’s lost a lot of weight, hasn’t slept and is holding onto sanity with his bare teeth at this point.

 “Hi Boss. You here to kick me out?” he rasps, and the look he gets in response is puzzled.

 “No, of course not. May I come in?”

 Clint steps aside, letting him in. He doesn’t look back while shuffling to the living room, and it is clear that his shoulder is still giving him trouble. Despite his best attempts to hide it, it is obvious to Phil, who is close behind him.

 Once they’re sitting down, Clint remains silent. He is fidgeting with the fabric of a throw blanket, waiting for Coulson to talk - if he isn’t here to kick him out of SHIELD, he really doesn’t know why he would bother to come.

 “To be honest, Barton, I’m not entirely sure what is happening. But something isn’t right, and I hope that we can find a solution.”

 It’s all he can do to nod. He is exhausted and besides, he doesn’t know what he could say, either.

 Coulson continues, “The last mission…” but Clint pales at the thought of it and he can’t stop himself from blurting out,

 “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. Wasn’t fast enough... Six people died...“

 “You got hurt.” Phil replies, looking over to the couch where his asset is slowly shrinking into himself. Shit. He really must have underestimated this young man’s state of mind. Carefully, he continues.

 “None of this is your fault - did you think we would blame you for the outcome?”

 This seems to genuinely confuse him. “Uh - yes?”

 Slowly shaking his head, Phil replies,

 “No. Sometimes, things just go wrong and there is nothing we can do about it, except our best. You were injured, which you reported, and you still managed to save five other people. This is more than we could have hoped for. You did a good job out there, especially under the circumstances.”

 “...Right.” It doesn’t sound like Clint believes it. He doesn’t have a reason to - nothing he knows or lived through would have indicated that something like this wasn’t to be blamed on anyone - probably him.

 “I understand that this is hard. We have mental health professionals to help with that sort of thing, and I think it would be of benefit for you to talk to them.”

 Clint remains silent - he doesn’t trust them. He has talked to them, right after joining the organisation - it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Giving away any kind of personal information makes him want to crawl out of his skin and hide somewhere. People knowing details about him is a dangerous thing, and as much as they’d needled and pushed, Clint managed to keep quite a bit to himself still. He is ridiculously proud of that.

 Right now though, he is tired. So very tired.

 “I don’t trust them.” he confesses silently.

 Phil nods slowly. He figured as much, understands even - he, too, isn’t too keen on sharing certain issues. But it is a well needed support system that exists for good reason. This is what he says, surprising both himself and Barton with his words, but truth be told, this is everything but a professional conversation. He wants to help, not just because Clint is his asset - he cares, on a personal level. Phil cares for all agents, especially the ones assigned to him.

 But something in this young man in front of him brings out his protective streak. It doesn’t matter that Barton is well trained in armed and unarmed combat, amongst other skillsets. He is 22 years old and as far as Coulson can tell, he’s never had a single soul he could trust or rely on in his life and he is determined to change that.

 “Medical say they’re concerned about you coping. And so am I. Have been for a while, actually.”

 It is clear that Phil refers to their conversation in his office a little while back. Clint sighs heavily.

 “I’m not very good at it right now.”

 He is beyond exhausted at this point, or he wouldn’t have opened up at all. As sad as it may be, but his handler is the only person who hasn’t fucked him over yet. He really hopes it stays that way.

 “It’s just that, I’m used to things going certain ways.” Clint explains, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he suddenly finds himself talking about the circus.

 He is talking about food and shelter constantly being held over his head and how he eventually started to take back control in the only way he knew how. He is talking about starving and binge eating on purpose at first, and later out of sheer habit. Clint talks about the way the latest mission specifically triggered all of this, and he is pathetically proud of himself for being able to keep his emotions in check the entire time. It’s hard, harder than usual - but he is sharing so much already. He can’t do more.

 Phil is listening to him without a word, careful to keep his face even. On the outside, he is calm and collected, but the more he listens, the more furious he gets. There is no other way to say it. Seething anger boils in him, directed at every single person responsible for years of abuse and mistreatment of a child who grew up to be a damaged adult, still doing his best and thinking it isn’t enough.

 For how long he is talking, Clint wouldn't be able to tell. But once he is done, the room is completely silent and he is staring at a stain on the table - it’s easier than facing the fact that he just told all of these things to another human being. As much as it scares him, it may be just the right thing to do.

 Staring ahead and keeping his breathing as calm as possible is all he can do for now. But maybe, some day, he might be ready to accept help.

*+~

Warnings:

- Past Child Abuse - Food issues - Eating Disorder - Starvation - Denied food as punishment - Food hoardig - Dealing with related past trauma, PTSD - Death, dying children (non-graphic) - Vomiting - Blood and injury, gun wounds

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 80

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

Her body is comforting; the warmth and the familiar weight of it laying atop his own.  The feel of her skin pressed against his and the light, yet always alluring scent that lingers in her hair. His fingers more through it now. Slowly and gently combing through the silky, dark tresses; still damp with sweat following an intense and attentive session of love making. It had been so easy to lose himself in the moment. The escape. The sensation of hands and mouths moving over each other’s bodies as they took turns both worshipping and devouring one another. The way her touch alternated between gentle and greedy as her fingers and palms explored every inch of his shoulders, chest, and arms; legs securely wrapped around his waist and her heels pressing into the small of his back. It had been slow and tender at moments; long, soft kisses that saw closed mouth moving upon closed mouth,  accompanied by whispers of love and praise. Other times it had been more frantic; a desperation behind aggressive, grabbing hands and tongues battling for dominance and much rougher, dirtier talk. Each minute...each SECOND...had been nothing short of perfection. The taste of her kiss and the digging and scraping of her nails against his skin. The noises that escaped from her mouth; the sound of his name,  both soft sighs and whimpers,  much louder begging and pleading and then her eventual release. His own had been powerful.  His entire body locking up and then shuddering; eyes closed and his forehead pressed against hers as her heels dug into his ass as he emptied himself inside of her. She’d clung to him afterwards; arms tightly wound around his neck while he buried his face in the side of hers.  And when he’d pulled back to look at her, there’d been tears in her eyes. There was no way to dismiss what he saw there; the fear and the worry and the anxiety. The realization that -whether it be through his demise or her own- it may very well be the last time they experience that kind of moment together.  He’d done what he could to squash those thoughts; softly kissing her and quietly professing his love and adoration; fingertips moving over every inch of her face as if committing it to memory.  

Now he lays on his back with her tightly pressed against him. That warm, supple body spread along his; breasts flattened against his chest, her eyes closed and her lips and the tip of her nose against one side of his jaw as her knuckles repeatedly grazed along the other.  The pain hasn’t subsided, but for the time being it isn’t as intense; the three glasses of whisky he’d ended up consuming, the intense orgasm,  and the heat radiating from her body  all working together to successfully take the edge off his suffering.  And he knows he should move; climb out of bed and get dressed and back to business. Despite Rata and Koen being there and heavily armed guards on high alert, she’s still his responsibility; promising nearly seven years ago to always protect her no matter how high the stakes or how extreme the costs. She and the baby growing inside of her are his sole priorities, and he has to keep them safe and get them through the next few days and then back home safe and sound. Even if it means sacrificing himself. Whether physically OR mentally.

“Boy or girl?”

Tyler’s eyes flicker open at the sound of her voice, finding her gazing up at him with her chin resting on his chest. “What?”

Her knuckles continue to  brush against his jaw. “Boy or girl? What do you want?”

“I want a healthy baby. And a healthy momma.”

“You say that every time.”

“It’s all that matters to me; that you and the baby are okay.”

“Humour me,” she says, and drags the nail of her index finger down his chin. “Boy or girl?”

“Boy.”

“You would do that to me. Stack the house with testosterone. Isn’t it sufficient that  you have enough testosterone for the entire male population of New South Wales? Do you really have to add more?”

“You’re going to say a  girl, aren’t you. So what? Stack the house with estrogen? Thanks.”

“Better than testosterone.”

“I don’t think so. And why would you do that to ME? Another girl?”

“Look buddy, it’s your sperm that decides this. So you really only have yourself to blame. Besides, would another little girl really be that painful? You’re an amazing girl dad; a total study in contradiction.   You’re big and strong and you have all those scars and tattoos and you’re so bad ass. Yet there you are, braiding hair and playing Barbies and attending tea parties and glitter stuck in your beard. And you never complain about any of it.”

“Why would I complain? She’s my little girl. Nothing I won’t do for her. Except wear the tiara.”

“She’ll break you yet. Or Addie will, when she’s old enough. Something tells me your little peanut will be able to convince you to do ANYTHING.”

“Well she is just like her mother and you’ve had me wrapped around your baby fingers since day one, so…”

“Do you remember when we found out that Millie was in fact going to be a girl? I thought you were going to have a coronary. You looked so scared.”

“I was scared. Me? Having a girl?”

“What? Did the sins of past transgressions with women come back to haunt you? Make you realize that there’d be guys like you  after your daughter when she’s older?”

“That was part of it. It just scared me. The thought of having a girl. I didn’t know anything about raising a girl.”

“You have asked the ultrasound tech three times if she was sure. You were so spooked. But  you got over it quick. The second she made her entrance into the world. The way you held her and she looked at you with those big blue eyes. You were a goner. You had your miracle baby.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, and pushes his hands through her hair, moving it off her shoulders. “She IS  a miracle. In a lot of ways. I never thought I’d get that chance again; didn’t think I was worthy of being a dad again. And when you think about how she was made and where? During all that fucking craziness? The fact that something could have happened to you and we never would have known we were having her? She’s definitely a miracle.”

“I remember how cute you were while I was pregnant,” Esme muses. “I mean, you’ve been cute and gentle and so sweet with all of them. But with Millie, you were extra...well, you were EXTRA.”

“I was a total newbie. I didn’t get to experience all of that with Austin. I was pretty much gone the entire time she was pregnant with him. And I was in Kuwait when he was born, so I didn’t even get to see that.”

“You were just so adorable. You were always touching my tummy and you’d always talk to her or read to her. And she’d always kick or squirm when she heard your voice. Not that I blame her; it’s a very nice voice.”

Grinning, he tucks her hair behind her ears and then cradles her face in his hands, kissing her softly.

“And you always had the goofiest grin on your face when people would ask about her.  That ‘hey, look what I did’ grin. You were so pleased with yourself. Like it was some great achievement; putting a baby in me.”

“At that time it was. Now all five of them are. Well, six. If we count little bean.”

“And you always made sure they gave us pictures at the ultrasound; you’d put every one of them on the fridge. I don’t think I’ve seen a prouder daddy-to-be. And you’ve been like that with every single one.”

“I am proud. I finally did something worthwhile with my life.  I finally have things I can brag about. Didn’t have anything to be proud of until Millie came along.”

“I don’t know about THAT. Surviving half a dozen tours in the Middle East is pretty impressive.”

“It was my job. I did what I was told to do. Or what I had to do to survive. Let’s not romanticize it.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” she complains.  “You know how you always wish I could look at myself the way you do? Well I wish that you could see yourself the way I see you.  The way your kids see you. Because we think you’re pretty amazing and we love you. More than you could possibly know. Life would be miserable without you.”

“Well hopefully you guys won’t have to find out just HOW miserable.”

She frowns. “You said we wouldn’t talk about that. That we wouldn’t talk fatalistically. You promised me that. For one night.”

“You’re right. I did promise that. I’m sorry.”

She presses a kiss to his lips. “You’re forgiven. This is some serious deja vu, huh?”

“What is?”

“This. Us in bed like this. When you’re supposed to be working.”

“Well if it wasn’t for you and your uncanny ability at distracting me while I’m working…”

“I will not be blamed for your hormones. It’s not my fault you’re incessantly horny and insatiable.”

“It’s your fault for lying in bed with your pants half down,” he argues.

“You’re so unprofessional, Tyler,” she teases. “You should really be written up. You should not be getting your rocks off on company time.”

“Technically, it’s our company so we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

“That is a very good point. I think I’m going to love being in charge. Does that I mean I get to boss you around sometimes?”

“Like you don’t already?”

“I do not boss you around!” Esme objects. “You wouldn’t let me do that. Boss you around.”

“I think you’re underestimating the power you have. You’ve been bossing me around for about seven years now.”

“Well you must enjoy it. I notice you stick around.”

“It’s not that I enjoy it, it’s that I really enjoy other things so I tolerate the bossiness.”

“When have I bossed you around? Name a time.”

“Four months ago when you made me paint our bathroom purple.”

“I couldn’t do it myself! I was pregnant. And for the record, it’s not purple. It’s mauve.”

“Mauve is a shade of purple.”

“It’s not purple like Barney the Dinosaur or like an eggplant. It’s a very subdued shade.”

“Yeah, a shade of purple.”

“Okay, so that’s ONE time! One time I’ve bossed you around.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tyler chuckles. “It’s been more than one time. Way more than I like to admit, actually.”

“So the big, bad mercenary is whipped. Your secret is safe with me. You can’t be a hard ass all the time, right? You might as well come home and be my bitch.”

“Excuse you? Your bitch?”

“Listen, if I have to be a snack and meal bitch for five kids, you can suck it up and be my bitch once in a while. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“The things I won’t do for you.”

“You do a lot for me,” she smiles, and pecks his lips. “You always have. You always step up and take care of me; no matter how bad you’re feeling or how much pain you’re in or shitty circumstances are. You ALWAYS step up. For me, for the kids. You’re just always there when you need you, without even having to be asked. I appreciate it. And you.”

Laying a hand on the back of her head, he pulls her into him and presses his lips to her brow. “Thank you.”

“You’re a good man,” she says, as she once more places her head upon his chest. “And I’m very lucky. That  I even found you.”

“I don’t know; I think I’m the lucky one. If you hadn’t have taken the job with Nik, if you hadn’t been on the bridge that day…”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I wouldn’t have what I have now. I’d be dead. I wouldn’t have gotten a second chance or the opportunity to fix my shit. And I wouldn’t have this life; you, my kids. And when I think about them or you not existing…”

“But we do. Exist.”

“Yeah, because you took the job. You could have taken one look at me and saw what a mess I was and said ‘fuck it’ and turned it down. But you didn’t. And now look. Look where we are.”

She scowls. “Yeah, back in Dhaka.”

“That’s NOT what I meant.  I meant look where we are as in us. As a couple. We’ve come a hell of a long way since the first time we were here.”

“And since that little apartment in Sydney,” she muses.

“Seems like so long ago. Longer than seven years, that’s for sure.”

“We’ve been through a lot since then,” she reasons. “But I like where we’ve ended up.”

“Yeah,” he runs a hand over her hair and down her back, settling it at her tailbone. “So do I.”

Tyler  relaxes once more as she settles against him; his knuckles repeatedly skimming up and down her spine, the fingers of his hand softly tracing random patterns on her shoulder and down her arm. It feels so good; being with her, The way her hair tickles his face and chest and how her warm, soft breath wafts against his skin. It’s the quiet, unassuming moments of intimacy that he sometimes enjoys the most. When they connect through something other than sex. There’s a bond between him that he can’t even begin  to explain. Something so powerful and seemingly unbreakable that began on that bridge seven years ago.

“What do you think you would have been?” Esme asks, once more breaking the silence.  “If you had never one into the military?”

“I don’t know,” he admits.

“What did you want to be when you were  a kid?”

“Away from my father.”

“You must have had a dream. Something you wanted to do.”

“Well the unrealistic side of me wanted to be a professional surfer or football player. The realistic side of me always went back and forth between  a cop and a firefighter.”

“I could see you being either of those.  I mean, you’re big and strong. Athletic. And you have no damn fear.”

“Believe me, I have a lot of those. I just don’t tell you about them.”

“You would have made a really good policeman. In that uniform? All intimidating with your eyes and your take no shit attitude. You could have told me to assume the position and I would have obliged right away.”

He chuckles at that.

“A cop or fireman are both very fitting for you,” Esme concludes. “They’ve both got  that edge; high intensity at times. That danger. Definitely good jobs for you. Or a construction worker. I could see you in construction. In a pair of well worn jeans and no shirt and all sweaty and tanned.”  She sighs dreamily.

“Is that your fantasy?”

“Baby, you ARE my fantasy. I don’t need to imagine anything other than what I already have.”

“You’re really good for my self esteem, you know that?”

“How a man that looks like you has self esteem issues, I will never know. But you’re perfect the way you are. At least to me.”

“Even with all the scars?”

“They’re part of who you are. Where you’ve been, what you’ve gone through, what you’ve survived. I don’t like the stories behind most of them, but I love YOU. And they’re part of you, so…”

Smiling, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “What about you? What would you have done? If you’d stayed in college?”

“I would have probably changed my major. Maybe went into English Lit or something like that.”

“I was NOT expecting that.”

“You thought for sure I was going to say teacher or nurse, didn’t you.”

“Well you did mention teacher once. And you did a damn good job of nursing me back to health seven years ago. And your sponge baths are second to none.”

She giggles.  “You only think that because you got special treatment during your sponge baths.”

“You were very good to me. And so were your hands. Sometimes even your mouth.”

“You’re such a pig,” she laughs. “I hope you know that if I had been a nurse, I would NOT have given that kind of treatment to all my patients.”

“Just tall Australian guys with muscles and blue eyes?”

“They would have to have an amazing ass and the stamina of a God, too.”

“And you say I put YOU on a pedestal.”

“You’re worthy of your pedestal. But yeah; I would have gone into English Lit. Or maybe psychology. But I did have one long standing dream when I was young. Sometimes I even still think about it.”

“Yeah? What’s the dream?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?”

“You might think it’s funny.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve always wanted to own a bookstore.”

Tyler glances down at her.

“Weird, right?”

“No, it’s not weird. I’m just surprised. It’s the first I’ve heard about it in seven years.”

“I’ve never had a reason to talk about it. It was just a silly dream. Or at least it was until we got back to Australia and I got a look at all the little shops in town. They’re quaint and they’re cute and it’s such a nice, picturesque area.  It makes me think of my little bookstore whenever we’re there.”

“Really?”

“Really. I know; it’s silly. Tell me it’s silly.”

“I don’t think it’s silly at all. I think it’s a nice idea.”

“And not just any bookstore, either. Not one of those stuffy, uptight kinds. But where people can come in and relax; cozy chairs and tables to sit at and a place where they can buy baked goods and other treats and get something to drink. With a fireplace and an awesome kids section; bean bag chairs and aquariums with fish and turtles. And a sensory area for kids with special needs. It would be bright and cheerful; lots of windows and natural light. And a little garden out back where people sit and get fresh air if they want.”

“Wow…” he grins. “...you’ve really thought about it.”

“Just a dream. I had it all figured out when I was ten. I mean, I’ve added ideas through the years. I even made a floor plan when I was fourteen.”

“What did you call it?”

“It’s never had a name.  I could never come up with one.”

“How come you never did it?”

“A lot of things went to shit after my dad died and my mom got even MORE toxic. Life went in a different direction. And then I met Mark and…” she shrugs. “...well we know how THAT turned out. I brought it up once to him; he thought it was stupid.”

“HE was stupid.”

“Among other things. You don’t think it’s stupid?”

“No. I think it’s pretty cool, actually. And if you wanted to do it, we could make it happen.”

“It was just a dream.”

“Doesn’t HAVE to be just a dream. If it’s something you want to do…”

“Don’t enable me, Tyler. You’re supposed to be the one talking me out of these things.”

“No, I’m supposed to be the one encouraging you to do things.”

“Have you been listening to Barack Obama’s podcast again? Was he giving one of his talks about treating Michelle like the queen she is?”

“I don’t need him to encourage me to treat my wife like a queen. And if something you want to do...the bookstore…”

“I’m too busy raising five little kids right now;  in five or six months, there’s going to be a new baby in the house. And we already have a business, remember?”

“You could still have one of your own and help with the other one.”

“Baby, I love you so much for wanting this for me, but we both know now is not a good time. We’re having another baby; that’ll be six kids under seven. I won’t have time to do anything extra. And I’m happy the way things are right now. Maybe when they’re all in school and you’re gone a lot. It would give me something to do and I won’t be so lonely.”

“So ask you again in another few years,” he concludes.

“You’ll forget in a few years.”

“Esme,  I don’t forget anything when it comes to you. I still remember what you were wearing when you showed up at the shack, and that was almost seven years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. And I remember every bit of every conversation we had during those five days.”

Her lower lip and chin begin to wobble. “Don’t make me cry, Tyler James. I’ve cried enough today.”

“I remember how I promised I’d never make you cry. I fucked that up pretty good, didn’t I.”

“For what it’s worth, you’ve made me smile and laugh more than you’ve made me cry.”

Smiling, he tangles his fingers in her hair and pulls her into a kiss; long and deep, her body sliding along his she reaches up to curl her arms around his neck. “I should get dressed,” he says, and rubs the tip of his nose against hers.

“No. You shouldn’t. In fact, it should be illegal for you to ever wear clothes.”

“Man, your hormones ARE going crazy.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t help that I find my husband amazingly sexy. That I can’t get enough of him. Maybe you should have been uglier if you didn’t want me objectifying you so much.”

“You wouldn’t have bothered with me if I was uglier.”

“That’s a fair point.”

“I really should get dressed.”

She pouts dramatically.

“I’m sorry. But I am working.”

“We’re in the same room. What is going to happen to me when you’re THIS close by?”

“I should at least have pants on if the shit hits the fan.”

“If you leave them off,  you’d defeat them with sheer humiliation. Or maybe seeing you naked would turn them on and they’d be so uncomfortable with it, they’d just leave.”

Smoothing her hair away from her face, he keeps it clasped in his hands and presses a kiss to her lips. “You’re weird.”

“Maybe. But you secretly enjoy my weirdness. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have hung in for seven years. You either like it, or you’re a glutton for punishment.”

“Maybe it’s a bit of both,” he teases.

“You definitely enjoy it. That’s why we have five ids. And one on the way. You enjoy it a little too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much. And as much as I want to stay here like this all night…” he pecks her lips and runs his palms along her arms. “...you need to get off me.”

“Fine.”  She gives another pout and then rolls off him and onto her side; elbow on the mattress and the side of her head in her palm. Watching him with a mix of admiration, appreciation, and lust as he slides out of bed and begins gathering up long discarded clothing.  “Baby, you are so sexy.”

Tyler grins. “And you call me biased?”

“It’s the truth,” she declares, then laughs when the shirt he tosses her way lands on top of her head. “Walking sex. That’s what you are. Which is another reason we have so many kids. That and you have very determined swimmers. Not even  birth control or a vasectomy could stop those suckers! And don’t you dare say it…” she slips the tee over her head. “...or I WILL throat punch you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I could take you. And you know it.”

“Mmm…hmmm…”  He clips the holster and gun to his hip, then stands at the side of the bed, hands gentle as they rest on the side of her face; tilting it up towards him. “I love you.”

“I know.” She presses her lips to his heavily calloused palm. “I’ve never once doubted it. And I love you, too. So much.”

He kisses her. So soft and so tender it brings tears to her eyes.

****

The text comes at ten in the morning as they lounge on the couch in the living room; half eaten plates of breakfast resting in their laps. It’s nothing more than numbers on the screen,  a simple yet effective message that opens the gateway to the path that leads home. And she hurriedly sets her plate on the coffee table and scrambles to gather a notebook and pen; uncapping the latter with her teeth as she clicks dials the number provided and then places the phone on her thigh and the call on speaker.

“You don’t know how to mind your own business,” a male voice scolds in way of greeting.

“And you don’t know how to play fair,” Esme retorts. “Taking the wife and kid of a man who died seven years ago? Threatening another woman and her children? That’s pretty low; even for bottom dwellers like you.”

“Mouthy. Typical western woman. Nothing that a good backhand wouldn’t fix. Perhaps we should teach your husband a thing or two; about how to control his woman and teach her how to respect men.”

“You can kick a dog to make it stay, but it stays out of fear, not respect. And I’m not speaking to a man right now; I’m speaking to a boy. A cowardly little boy. Because no man would  sink to what you have. A man...a  REAL man...wouldn’t idolize trash like Amir Asif.”

“You keep that name out of your mouth,” he growls. “You keep it out of your whore mouth.”

“You know what, fuck you buddy,” Tyler snaps. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that. You may talk to your girl like that, but don’t EVER talk to mine like that.”

The man on the other end of the line chuckles. “I should have known you’d be listening. Always the protector. How have you been enjoying the games? We made them up. Just for you.”

“How about you meet me in person and I show you a whole new game,” Tyler suggests. “That kind that ends with me putting you in the fucking ground.”

Esme reaches out and lays a comforting hand on the back of his neck, repeatedly squeezing.

“You object? To our games? You object to her being called a whore? Isn’t that what she was? When  you first met? Your whore?”

“I will fucking kill you. I will find you and rip you apart with my bare fucking hands. You hear me? I’ll…”

“Enough with the games,” Esme orders into the phone. “They’re not clever, they’re not cute.  They’re ridiculous and they’re boring and they scream of desperation. We don’t intimidate easily. If at all. So how about you knock this shit off and we get down to business. The people we’re working for are willing to meet your demands; twenty five million dollars for the woman and the boy. You can keep the mercenary; we don’t want him. He’s damaged goods now. And you can tell him I said that.”

“You don’t want your own man? Your own employee? That’s cold.”

“We know he’s in on it. We know he’s working for Mahajan. That you’re using him as bait. You really don’t think we’re stupid, do you? You’re not dealing with street thugs; we’ve been in this business for a long time. We’ve seen and heard it all. From bigger and better. We were able to get Ovi Mahajan out. And we killed Amir Asif in the end. So your threats and your games mean nothing. They’re not scary. They’re laughable.”

“You won’t be finding it very funny if we get to your children, will you. That won’t be so laughable, will it.”

“I will fucking kill you  and everyone you love,” Tyler fumes. “I will hunt every last one of your relatives down and make you watch while I put a bullet in each of their brains. And then I’ll fucking drown you in their blood. And that’s a promise.”

Another chuckle. “You act and talk so tough. But it only took one of us to bring you down last time. And you should have done everyone a favour and died on that bridge. In the end, you needed a woman to come to your rescue. To fight your battles. Now THAT’S pathetic.”

“Do you want the money or not?” Esme inquires. “Twenty five million. For the woman and the kid.”

“You know what we really want. WHO we want.”

“And I made it very clear that that is non negotiable. You won’t get that. You won’t get HIM.  That offer got left on the table and died there. Twenty five million dollars. Take it or leave it.”

“And if we agree to take it?”

“I want proof of life, and I want it today. Within the next few hours. And it has to be current; today’s date and time stamp.  You try and fuck me on this, and I will send a whole army to take you and your friends down. Because I have that power. I have the power and the money and the resources to do it. Do you really want to test me?”

“You’re not able to do that,” the man scoffs. “Bring us down.”

“Oh, I DO have that power. I can get it all done with one phone call. You really didn’t think we’d be in this alone, did you? That it would just be the two of us?  You have no idea the amount of people I have at my disposal. Or the weapons or the tech. I’m in charge here, not you. How do you know I haven’t traced this call and already have snipers with you  in their crosshairs? You have no idea what I can do. So fuck you and your games. You want the money or not?”

A heavy sigh. “Thirty.”

“No,” she refuses. “Twenty five. That was your original demand and that’s all you’re getting. Not a single goddamn cent more. I don’t take orders from you. I don’t take orders from ANYONE. And I especially don't take them from gutter rats. Twenty five. Take it or fuck off.”

“You want proof of life?”

“The deal won’t happen if I don’t get it. You’ll get nothing but a death sentence. I want a video. A live one.”

“You want to see them with your own two eyes?”

“That’s EXACTLY what I want.”

“You can have that. Under one condition..”

She snorts. “You don’t give me conditions, kiddo. That’s not how this works.”

“Do you want your friends alive or dead? It’s up to you. Do you want their blood on your hands?”

Tyler leans into her, lips pressed to her ear. “Ask what they want.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll play. Just this once. What’s your condition? Humour me.”

“You can have proof of life, but only in person.”

“Fuck no,” Tyler whispers harshly. “Tell him to go fuck himself. You’re not doing that.”

“Fine,” she ignores him, and her husband  glares at her and sighs in exasperation, then  springs up from the couch and rakes both hands through his hair before pacing the floor. “Tell me where to go. Give me the address.”

“Do you think WE’RE stupid? That we’d just give you the address and then you’d send your people there? You come here, to where we are, and we take you there. Blindfolded. So you can’t see where we are talking.”

“Tell them no,” Tyler orders. “Tell them no and to shove it up their ass.”

“You know I can’t do that,” she addresses the man on the phone. “That’s a setup. You want me there so you can grab me and hold me hostage because that will bait my husband. You really do underestimate me, don’t you.  I don’t go anywhere alone. If I agree, someone goes with me.”

“You bring him. Your husband.”

“Nope. It won’t be him. So you can grab BOTH of us? Or kill him on sight? I won’t play these games. I’ll come, but I’m not bringing him. Someone else, but NOT him.”

“Then he keeps his distance. If any of my people see him even remotely close by, we kill you. No hesitation. Understand?”

“Where do you want me to meet you?”

“Amir Asif’s house. You come here, we take you to see your friends.  Simple as that. I give you my word that no harm will come to you.”

“Your word means shit,” Tyler speaks up. “Tell us where they are. Or I will grab all of you one by one and find ways to make you talk. I’ve got all the time and the rage in the world, believe me.”

“We haven’t hurt her or your children yet, have we? But we COULD. I think we’ve shown that; no? With the baby? She really is the cutest little thing. Such an adorable smile. And your other daughter? So pretty. Blond hair and blue eyes. We could keep her for a few years; she’d make a good child bride.”

“You fucking asshole!” Tyler storms across the room and snatches the phone from Esme’s thigh; hands trembling as he takes the cell off speaker and presses it to his ear. “ I will fucking hunt you down...every last one of you...I will fucking torture you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. Then I’ll beat you within an inch of your life, stop, and then torture you all over again.  And maybe I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. If you’re lucky.”

“She has six hours; to make up her mind.   She hasn’t decided by then, we will kill all three of them. And then we’ll kill your children. One by one.”

“You fucking prick. How about you man up and you meet ME face to face. Or are you that much of a coward?”

“Six hours,” the other man insists, then disconnects the call.

“Motherfucker!” Tyler roars, and tosses the phone onto the couch; slamming into the cushions with enough force that the cell bounces violently and hits the floor.  The rage is intense; his entire body drawn tight and trembling, fists tightly clenched and jaw painfully set. And he can hear the rush of blood in his head; feels the throbbing of the surgically repaired vein in his neck.

“Okay...Tyler…” Esme’s on her feet, rushing to him and laying her hands on his chest; palms moving slowly and soothingly over the expanse of hard muscle and the fabric of his shirt. “...you need to calm down...you need to breathe...just breathe…”

“You heard what he said?”

“I heard. I heard every word.”

“That’s my daughter.”

“She’s my daughter too. I heard what he said. And it’s vile and it’s evil and it’s disturbing.  But he said it to get to you; to fuck with you. Break your brain, then break your body, right? Don’t let them do it. Don’t let them win.”

“That’s my little girl…” he speaks through ragged gulps of air, tears of both rage and fear streaming down his face. “..if they get to her….”

“It’s just words. That’s all it is. They won’t touch her. In the same way they didn’t touch Addie. They’re doing this to break you. And you can’t let them, okay? You can’t. I need you to calm down. Just to try to breathe, okay?”

“I can’t...I can’t breathe...I can’t…”

“You’re really close to having a panic attack and I won’t be able to get you out of it. Can you at least sit down, please?”

He nods, and she grabs a hold of the front of his shirt and yanks him towards the couch. Waiting until he drops down onto it to lay a hand on the back of his head; encouraging him to place it between his knees. “You need to breathe, Tyler. Just breathe.”

She leaves him momentarily, rushing for the box of meds in the kitchen; hastily dumping them onto the counter before selecting the bottle she wants. Then returns to the living room with several small, white pills cradled in her palm.

“Take them,” she gently orders, then places her hand over his lips. Forcing the pills into his mouth and then grabbing a now lukewarm mug of coffee from the table and using it as a chaser. “It’ll pass,” she confidently assures him. “Just try and relax.”

His eyes are closed  as he rests his forehead against her, and she drops a kiss on the top of his head; gently stroking his hair and his ears and the back of his neck. Feeling the way his body slowly begins to relax as the meds act quickly; a strong force combined with the comfort -and security- she effectively provides him with. And when the tension and the rage finally release, he begins to sob.  His entire body shaking, arms wrapped tightly around her slender waist.

“It will be over soon,” Esme promises, her voice quivering with emotion. “It’ll all be over soon.”

[jackjots]

#9 Bones

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt

(This takes place around Episode 6 and briefly refers to the corresponding podcast episode )

Day #9 @30daysofwayward

(I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)

The mob outside, even as small as it was, was not missed when it dissipated. But the anxious energy in the air did not go away with it. I sat in the shadows and kept writing down theories as the noise outside the bar dwindled to the usual silence I was used to. I was trying to remember Aubrey, after Quinn had mentioned the name. I had gone to one town meeting when I’d moved, just to get a feel for the things, but I’d sat in the back and had, of course, realized it that community meetings weren’t for me. That’s when I found out about the fact that the mayor was a dog, and - that was it, that was when I’d met Aubrey. According to Quinn, he knew about werewolves. I wondered if there was a way to learn more about him without actively seeking him out. I tried to think of other people I could just exist around to maybe gain new information. 

And then it occurred to me. The florists. 

Now, I often avoided Mary Jo and Ellis for a very specific reason: they were the exact opposite of me. They had that extrovert energy that I found intimidating and almost scary. The little I interacted with them was enough to know that nothing I told them was sacred. It didn’t help that they clung to each other as if they were one organism and as a perpetually single person with little to no interest in dating, I found that disturbing. But I could look past that, if it wasn’t for the incessant gossiping and aforementioned intense energy. They were just not my kind of people. I sighed and finished my beer finally over my empty plate. I was going to have to do it. I was going to have to buy some flowers. 

I decided to purchase some for all of the new graves that I assumed would be dug soon. It was a morbid thought, but a good reason to buy flowers. I wasn’t really the type to just have them in my house for no reason. Where would I put them? My desk? I would immediately knock them over and destroy my keyboard. These were just facts about myself I knew as deeply as I knew I was not looking forward to talking to Mary Jo and Ellis. 

Their shop was so bright and sunny, contrasting the slowly encroaching rain clouds outside, that I squinted when I went inside. It was also way too small. I was immediately the center of their attention.

“Hello.” They both chimed simultaneously. “How can we help you?”

“I wanted to buy some flowers.” They nodded expectantly. “Um, what are good flowers for a funeral?” Twin eyebrow raises. Mary Jo asked in a loud whisper. “Which one?”

“I guess I’ll get one for all of them?” I intended to pick it apart for each grave, but I wasn’t going to tell them that.

“If you’ll allow us,” Ellis said, spreading his hands wide in front of himself, “We can pick a different flower for each,” he lowered his voice, “werewolf victim.” 

“Did you know that we have werewolves here?” Mary Jo asked me in a way that suggested she was trying to be sneaky. But no one else was there and her voice was still quite loud. 

“I’ve heard.”

“You’re new here aren’t you?” Ellis’ eyes swiveled at me suspiciously as they started to gather flowers together. 

“Yes.” I admitted. “But I don’t feel like I’m really the werewolf sort.” 

“That’s true. You’re not. You hardly speak. This is the most you’ve spoken. Ever.” Mary Jo seemed reassured.

Ellis was not. “Would werewolves speak though? If they’re animals?”

Mary Jo looked doubtful. “But aren’t they human sometimes? I feel like wolves that are human sometimes would have a lot to say.” 

“Unless you are a,” Ellis paused for dramatics, “lone wolf.”

“Afraid not. Just a writer.”

“A writer. Oh, have you met Artemis and Paul?”

“Briefly.”

“They have a podcast.” Ellis smiled excitedly. “And soon, so will I.”

“Really?” I had trouble believing it.

“I’ve already started the tape.” He began, but Mary Jo gave him a look that calmed him down. “Probably.”

“Did you hear about what happened at the town hall?” Mary Jo asked me as another flower got placed in an arrangement that was becoming garishly bright. I thought about asking them to tone it down, but I did not have any control over this situation.

“Oh about Barney? Yes I heard.”

“Where were you during the town hall anyway?” Mary Jo asked. 

“I was at home, I think. Yeah I was at home.” 

“I didn’t see them while I was out and about.” Ellis said under his breath to Mary Jo. 

“Were you not at the town hall?” I asked. 

He seemed surprised I heard him and I heard him say. “Good hearing.” In a sing-song quiet voice with a side eye. To me, he smiled. “I was doing some investigative journalism.” He said the words in an over exaggeration. 

“So you missed Barney’s death?” 

“Yes. But I know all about it because Mary Jo is my eyes and ears.” 

I nodded. “It’s good you had someone there.”

“How did you hear about it?”

“Quinn.” I said. “I had some vegetarian food at the Dead Canary.” I added. 

Their shoulders relaxed at exactly the same time. The amount of energy it took not to roll my eyes. “Can I ask,” Mary Jo started as they wrapped the yellow, green, and pink bouquet, “why do you have two black eyes?”

I was taken aback. I had forgotten and I felt the heat rising in my face. “I had an accident yesterday.” 

‘You know who else has a black eye? Crispin.” Mary Jo said.

“Didn’t you say he spoke today?”

“For the first time in who knows how long.” 

“Too bad it was vulgar language.” 

“Well he had just seen a person die. I almost said a bad word.”

“You did not.”

I felt like I’d started the gossip machine with such little effort. I decided to try to push it in the right direction and throw them a bone to follow. “Was Aubrey at the town hall?” 

“Aubrey Dockweiler? Of course he was. And Artemis called him out for talking about werewolves.”

“His whole family has always been obsessed with them.”

“Too bad he’s the only one around for this.” 

“His father would be so pleased right now.”

“Pleased people died?” I asked.

They both looked at me, their faces growing into hard pouts. “Of course not.” They gave me the flowers and charged me. It wasn’t very cheap, but I felt like I got a lot of information out of it. 

“Have a good day.”

They nodded at me, suddenly mute. Bringing that up was a bit cruel, but I couldn’t help it. I still had so many feelings about the deaths that it was hard to see people being flippant about it. And it was nice to bring them down a peg. 

I looked at the flowers and couldn’t handle how bright it was. I took them to the Dead Canary and offered them to Desmond who took them much like someone would take a screaming child.

“For me?”

“I got them to put at the graves of,” I gestured broadly, “Everyone. But I don’t know when they’ll be buried.” “Or taxidermied more like.” Desmond added.

I gave an expression that accurately depicted my fear of that prospect. “Egh, okay. Anyway, you can do whatever you want with them.”

Desmond nodded and put them under the bar. “I’ll find somewhere to put them.” 

“The trash is okay too.” I volunteered.

He smiled. “Probably not that.” He put a glass in front of me and pointed with raised eyebrows. I nodded. I was just going to drink my way through this process, I decided. I still needed to talk to Aubrey, and now it felt like a more persistent need.

“Desmond, where does Aubrey Dockweiler live?”

[floralelu]

Le Fleuriste Episode II:

WARNING: MENTIONS OF SEX

Word Count: 3,261

Summary: Lucas yearns to talk to Eliott. But who is he? Will he meet Lucas’ expectations? Or break his heart on the spot?

[A/N] Hello!! Welcome to chapter 2 of Le Fleuriste!! We are excited for you to read this, and please check out chapter one in our masterlist in our bio.

———————————————————————

Lucas lied in bed that night scouring Instagram for this boy he met. Eliott is all he could think about. He thought about the veins that were visible on his hands and the way that they snaked and traveled along his arms. He contemplated what Pantone color would match his crisp blue eyes. He couldn’t get over the way Eliott’s once white apron was stained with dirt and mud from taking care of the flowers in the shop and how his hair was the perfect tousled mess that rested on top of his head. Could he be in love with this boy?

Lucas kept typing Eliott’s name into the search bar in different ways. Elliot? Nothing. Elliott? Nothing. Eliot? Once again, nothing. How many ways could he spell this boy's name and not get a single matching result?

Lucas threw his phone on the sofa cushion next to him. Lucas stood up from the pull out sofa and walked to the balcony wearing nothing but some boxer shorts and a baggy t-shirt. The entrance leading to the balcony sat in front of Lucas’ bed, also known as the couch. Lucas spent his restless nights staring out beyond the balcony staring at Annecy’s skyline.

Annecy is known for being “the Venice of the Alps”. Annecy is surrounded by mountains that are, for most of the year, dusted with snow on their peaks. Lucas loved the colorful buildings of pinks and yellows, as well as the canals and waterways that run through the town. Bridges connected streets together as if they were holding hands. Lucas especially adored Annecy during this time of year because of the greenery. Barrels full of flowers lined the street would bloom and flower, and the bees adored the new floral-filled environment just as much as Lucas did. It was always the fresh start that Lucas needed every coming year.

Lucas stood out on the balcony, it was late, 23:37. The boys were already in bed, sleeping off the Sunday blues. Lucas knew he wouldn’t sleep tonight, not with this boy racing through his mind.

Lucas looked at the streets below him. He could see some stray people walking about, mostly on their phones. He could hear quiet Italian music playing softly from the Italian restaurant down the street. Even though it was early spring, it was quite warm. The breeze brushed Lucas’ face and hair.

If only Eliott were here.

Why was Lucas thinking that? He doesn’t even know if this boy is gay, or any sexuality that involved loving someone like Lucas. Eliott was probably some straight guy who played with feelings of women, or possibly men too, Lucas already knew Eliott was toying with his feelings.

Lucas had never had a boyfriend. He did have one or two girlfriends in high school, but they felt neglected, especially since Lucas never felt the same way about them. Chloe was the last girl he was with, and the one who made him realize he was in fact gay.

He remembered when he first realized it, it sickened him. It happened during one of Emma’s “my mom is out on business so let’s have party” bashes. Lucas and Chloe had snuck off into one of the bedrooms and despite all the alcohol Lucas had drunk, he felt sober at this moment.

Lucas thought nothing of it, maybe it’ll make the sex more enjoyable. Chloe had started taking off her clothes and soon was completely bare. She walked over to Lucas and started kissing and biting his neck, then kneeled before him and started unbuttoning his jeans.

“Lucas, you’re not hard. Am I doing something wrong?” Chloe asked, gazing up at him.

“No, no, I…” Lucas started. “I think I’m gay.”

Chloe was angry at first, she thought he had been using and experimenting with her, but that wasn’t the case. He just didn’t know what he wanted, and he had finally figured it out. They did makeup in the end, but Lucas knew he had put Chloe through hell and back.

Lucas took a deep breath, smelling the fresh bellflower scents that came from the mountainside. It was calming, and he needed to calm down. Lucas soon returned to the pullout bed, and after hours of lying awake, he drifted off to sleep.

———————————————————————

“Arthur! You’re using all of the eggs! If you’re gonna take them all, at least make me some.” Basile screamed at Arthur as he took away the egg carton.

“Basile, hush. Lucas and the whole world is sleeping, and I know no one who wants to be greeted by your horrid voice this early in the morning,” Arthur whispered, taking the eggs back. “And I’m already making you eggs, idiot.”

“I bet Daphne would love to wake up to my so-called ‘horrid’ voice. She’s in love with me and I’m in love with her, we are in love Arthur,” Basile swooned. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“God, you guys are so loud,” Lucas mumbled, covering his ears with his pillow.

“I’m sorry, Lu, but Arthur here won’t shut up! I’ve been telling him that people are sleeping and he just won’t listen.” Basile persisted.

“Basile, I swear…” Arthur muttered under his breath.

Basile walked over to the pullout and sat next to Lucas, who was turned over onto his stomach with the pillow still covering his ears.

“Come on, Lucas. Have breakfast with us.” Basile said while shaking Lucas awake.

“I might as well, I’m sure as hell awake now.”

“Arthur! Do you hear that? Our boy Lucas is gonna have breakfast with his two best mates before they go off to work!” Basile shouted, jumping up and dragging Lucas to the table.

“Three best mates,” Yann corrected as he came out of his room. “Do you have any idea how loud you’re being, mate?”

“My sincerest apologies, I’m just so excited!” Basile danced over to the table while Lucas and Yann trailed behind him sluggishly.

Arthur brought over the feast that was considered breakfast. It consisted of all of the favorites, sausage, pancakes with maple syrup, bacon, and eggs served in many ways, each to the boys’ liking. This feast was a once a week type thing, usually, Arthur would prepare it with Basile occasionally helping on the side, although he didn’t provide much help at all. Arthur would give Basile little tasks to occupy him such as setting and placing the food on the table. It was one day a week where the gang would catch up with another and talk about their events that happened during the week. Lucas was fond of it because he didn’t get out very much, he didn’t really have a lot of spending money to go out and do things, but that might change in the coming weeks with this new boy who has caught his eye.

“Lucas, are these flowers...yours?” Yann questioned as he grabbed the glass filled with water that contained the bunches of blooms that Eliott had given him.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Who’s the lucky lad?” Arthur asked, chewing on a sausage link.

“Oh, I don’t really know him besides his name. He gave it to my mom and me when we visited the flower shop and I bought her a bouquet.”

“So you received two bouquets?” Basile chimed in.

“Yeah.”

“Well, Lucas, I don’t know about you but that sounds like flirting to me!” Basile laughed.

“Maybe.”

“Is he hot?” Yann asked, cutting up his pancake into smaller bite-sized pieces.

“Well, I would show you a picture, but I can’t find any of his social media,” Lucas sighed. “I’ve looked everywhere!” Lucas rested his head in his hand and played with his food with the end of his fork.

“Well, what’s his name?” Arthur inquired. “This is at Barney’s, yes?”

“Yeah, his name is Eliott.”

“Well, I don’t know anyone who works at Barney’s named Eliott. Are you sure it wasn’t Idriss? He’s been working there since Barney before Barney passed away.” Yann mentioned.

“No, it wasn’t him.”

“This Eliott guy must be new to the shop, maybe you could ask the girls who he is?” Basile suggested.

“Yeah, you know what I think I will,” Lucas smiled to himself in anticipation of his new plans.

“Our Lucas is gonna get a boyfriend!” Yann yelled and patted Lucas on the back.

“Okay, okay, let’s not get carried away.”

———————————————————————

Lucas stepped onto the cobblestone street of King’s Grove. It wasn’t busy today, only a few people milled in the streets. It was Monday after all. Lucas wished more people could enjoy a day like today. Birds were singing in choirs, the sun illuminated everything beneath it, and the sky was bright blue.

Like Eliott’s eyes.

Lucas thought about going to Barney’s first, but he knew he would only embarrass himself, and he couldn’t even ponder how awkward it would be asking for Eliott’s number.

In addition to never having a boyfriend, Lucas had never flirted with a guy either. He remembers the blush that flooded his cheeks after leaving Barney’s with two bouquets in hand. How could he prevent that from happening? Was Lucas even capable of acting cool and casual? He figured he better stick to the people he knew, the girls.

The first stop was The Disco Danish Cafe, only because they were opened first. They always opened at 6 AM bright and early to serve their famous breakfast danishes.

“Lucas! Back again!” Alexia called out as she wiped down the counter.

“No way! You’re here two days in a row?” Manon asked as she came out of the double doors that led to the kitchen.

“I know, I get it, I don’t see you guys enough,” Lucas laughed and rolled his eyes.

“What’s up? Do you want a danish, it’s on the house,” Alexia gestured to the many different flavors of danishes lined up like soldiers in the display case before her.

“Well, I just ate.”

“Too bad! I’m giving you one anyway,” Alexia selected a cheese danish from the display case and wrapped it in parchment paper, then placed it neatly in a bag, sealing it with a sticker of the cafe’s logo. “Here you go, bestie!” Alexia handed the danish to him.

“Thank you so much, by the way, I have a question to ask both of you,” Lucas sat down on one of the pink stools at the bar where milkshakes and other desserts were served. “Could you tell me who all works at Barney’s as of right now?”

“Oh god, Lucas if this is about a boy we aren’t stalking him. It could ruin our business,” Manon said, shaking her head.

“I’ll stalk a boy for you, Lucas,” Alexia said as she rested her head on her hand, smiling. “Especially if he’s cute!”

“He is. His name is Eliott, do you guys know anything about him? Such as his last name?” Lucas questioned.

“Well, I’ve seen a new guy there recently. I mean, Lucas, you have to keep in mind we don’t know our other shopkeeper neighbors that well. We’ve only been here, what? Two years?” Manon looked at Alexia for confirmation. “Yeah, only about two years, Lu.”

“Are you talking about the boy with the gorgeous golden hair? Kinda tall with lanky limbs? Like a spider monkey?” Alexia asked.

“Um, I guess you could describe him that way?”

“Yeah, he’s new. He just started working there in February. He and Idriss seem like great friends for only working there a month or so,” Alexia commented.

“Lucas, this is silly! Why don’t you just go over there and ask for the boy’s number?” Manon tried reasoning with Lucas.

“Manon, I want to avoid embarrassment as much as possible.”

“Come on, Lu! You’re attractive and sweet as honey! He wouldn’t question as to why you were asking for his number, in fact, I think he’d be thrilled to have a number from a boy like you,” Alexia said as she patted Lucas’ head.

“But what if he’s not gay?” Lucas frowned.

“I didn’t even think of that,” Alexia realized, looking quite shocked as to how she didn’t think of that.

“Maybe you could ask Emmy and Kenzie? They’ve worked at their shop longer than we have. Maybe they know who this Eliott boy is,” Manon suggested.

“Brilliant, Manon! I should get on my way then. Lovely seeing you beauties.” Lucas winked and Alexia blushed.

“Bye, Lu!” Alexia smiled and waved after him. “Oh, Manon, just look at how excited he is about this boy.”

“I’m worried he’ll get his heartbroken. You know how clueless boys can be, what if Eliott is the same? And with Eliott potentially being Lucas’ first boyfriend? That’s terrifying,” Manon sighed and shook her head as she switched out the day-old tray of cookies with brand new ones.

“Give it a chance.”

———————————————————————

“Emmy! Kenzie!” Lucas shouted, knocking on The Book Nook’s door. “I know you’re in there just stalling on opening up the store because you want to keep reading your pleasure reads!”

Kenzie finally opened the door.

“No need to call us out like that, Lucas,” Kenzie said as she flipped the sign from “closed” to “open”.

“This is urgent! I have a boy on my mind and I need information on him immediately!” Lucas demanded.

“Oh, do tell!” Emmy enthused.

“He works at the flower shop across the street, he has beautiful golden hair, and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,” Lucas might have daydreamed about Eliott a little too much. “His name is Eliott.”

“Eliott Demaury?” Kenzie chimed in.

“Is that his last name?” Lucas perked up.

“Lu, that’s Barney’s grandson!” Emmy exclaimed.

“But, how come I’ve never seen him before?”

“Well, he only came back to work at Barney’s about a month or so ago. He used to work there all the time when he was younger, I’m not sure why he left,” Kenzie commented. “I heard he took his grandfather’s death pretty hard.”

Suddenly, it went quiet. Lucas frowned at that statement. He may not know a single thing about Eliott aside from his name, but he did know that he never wanted to see Eliott be depressed. If Lucas was going to try and be this man’s boyfriend, he wanted Eliott to be the happiest he’s ever been.

“D-Do you know if he’s gay?” Lucas stuttered out.

“Oh, Lu, I have no idea,” Kenzie frowned at Lucas and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “I do have his Instagram though, in case you wanted to ‘slide into his DM’s’.”

Instantly, butterflies appeared and fluttered in Lucas’ stomach, he could finally talk to Eliott.

“Could you give it to me?” Lucas smiled in enthusiasm.

“Well, of course, my dear boy!” Kenzie and Emmy laughed.

Kenzie wrote down his Instagram username on a post-it note and handed it to Lucas.

“I owe you one,” Lucas clasped Kenzie’s hands and pulled her in for a hug. Lucas noticed the danish he had placed on the counter when he walked in and grabbed it. “Hey! Have this free danish!”

“No problem, Lucas,” Kenzie cracked the seal and opened the bag. “It smells divine! Alexia and Manon make the best danishes in the world, and that’s a fact.”

Lucas soon left the shop and started his walk back home. Lucas pulled the note out of his pocket. This was the key to the door of the unknown. He didn’t know what to expect. He avoided thinking of the possibility that Eliott was straight and had no interest in him, but that wouldn’t explain the extra bouquet he had received yesterday. Lucas folded the note and tucked it back into his pocket. As he walked, he looked ahead to admire the mountains and prayed that this boy would be the one to change his life.

———————————————————————

Lucas decided that going back home wouldn’t be the best option. The rest of the gang would already have already left for work so it would have been Lucas in an empty apartment. Instead, he headed for a park that was a few blocks from the gang’s building. The note with Eliott’s Instagram had been burning a hole in Lucas’s pocket the whole walk here. Now Lucas sat on a bench that overlooked a pond, the note waiting to be unfolded.

Kids laughed as their parents pushed them on the swings and birds whistled back and forth to one another, but Lucas wasn’t paying any attention to them. His focus was on the post-it note that now sat in his hands. Lucas wasn’t sure what to do. He could unfold the note, message Eliott, and everything could fall into place. Or, he could message him and Eliott could think he was a total weirdo and never speak to him again, leading Lucas to never show his face on King’s Grove to avoid a very awkward run-in.

It’s been less than 24 hours and you’re acting like a complete idiot. Pull it together, Luc. You never know unless you try.

Lucas took a deep breath, unfolded the note, and typed the username into the Instagram search bar.

plantjunkieeli

The loading circle just kept spinning and spinning. If this is some stupid sign, Lucas thought, I swear-

The profiles loaded. And there he was at the top.

Lucas scrolled through Eliott’s photos like he would any of his friends, but if he stared just a little longer at the ones that were just Eliott, no one had to know. Lucas went back to the top of Eliott’s profile, his finger hovering over the ‘message’ button.

Here goes nothing

Lucas hit the button and a new screen came up along with the keyboard. He wasn’t sure what to say, ‘Hey, thanks for the flowers, kiss me?’ Probably not. ‘Hi, I like you wanna go out?’ also a no. Lucas put his head into his hands, his phone twisting around as he did.

Why is this so hard? All I have to do is send a thank you, that’s it. Lucas took a deep breath before pulling his head back. He looked at his screen before his eyes went wide.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” he groaned. There in a little gray bubble sat a single ‘h’. That was it, absolutely nothing else. Lucas locked his phone and set it next to him on the bench, closing his eyes as he threw his head back. Lucas sat there for a few minutes, trying to figure out how he was going to fix this. What the hell is wrong with me-

Ping!

Lucas’ head shot up, eyes wide as he stared at his phone. His screen was facing down, making him unable to see the notification, but he had a feeling he knew what it was. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he picked up the phone and turned it over.

plantjunkieeli sent you a message!

Lucas slid his finger across the screen and unlocked his phone, opening up Instagram.

plantjunkieeli: h?

lucallemant: i meant to send hi but my fingers went a little too fast

lucallemant: but hi

plantjunkieeli: hi :)

Lucas’ hands were shaking. It didn’t seem like Eliott was completely weirded out by Lucas, that was a good sign, right?

lucallemant: thanks for the flowers, they’re beautiful

plantjunkieeli: no problem

Lucas sighed, not knowing how to carry on the conversation. He locked his phone and stuffed it in his pocket, standing up from the bench. He started walking in the direction of the apartment when his phone pinged again,

plantjunkieeli: beautiful people deserve beautiful flowers :)

[josh-cole]

Closure • Jack & Josh

noun

an act or process of closing something, especially an institution, thoroughfare, or frontier, or of being closed."hospitals that face closure"

(in a legislative assembly) a procedure for ending a debate and taking a vote; cloture."a closure motion"

28/08/2020 Visiting the city to celebrate his birthday, Josh runs into Jack in his Chelsea nightclub and is forced to allow the worlds of Joshua Cole and Joshua Yates to collide.

“We’ve got you,” Elijah is chuckling over Kevin’s shoulder, eyes squinting as he beams at Josh who holds their friend from the other side.

Josh feels a little guilty, laughing at the man’s slurred reply (something that might be ’no I’ve got you’ or ‘I’m about to throw up’ – could be either) but his boyfriend is laughing that contagious laugh that can’t be anything less than infectious. He hadn’t expected to leave whilst the music was still playing or the lights were still on, but even Josh can admit that he’s had a few more shots than he’d expected and, if Kevin’s drunken grumbles are anything to go by, he’s not the only one. 

The diner across the street that they’d seen earlier this evening is becoming increasingly appealing.

The drink will catch up to him any minute now, no doubt. E’s already has that glisten in his eyes; that glassy look that he gets when he’s a little too drunk or, on rare occasions, too high. It’s the same look he’d have at about this time on a normal night mind - when they’re up too late and the sleep is just catching up to him and his eyes go pink around the edges. He looks soft and warm and ready to climb into bed.

“You look so gone,” Josh calls over the music, giggling until he accidentally trips Kev (who’s too lost in whatever song he’s now chanting to acknowledge the couple’s conversation anymore) as he turns slightly to speak around him.

“I am,” Elijah slurs, his lips pursed as he tries to fight his smile, but then the grin is breaking out again and his voice joins Kevin’s. In the hand that isn’t holding Kev, he holds Josh’s jacket above his head as he sings along.

They’re not even close to the door when the bouncer sweeps in and, instead of his friends supporting him, Kevin’s being held up by a tight grip around his bicep as a bulky man marches him towards the exit, ignoring Elijah’s “hey, we’re just on our way out,” and Josh’s “relax!”

Just a few steps closer to the door and Kev must lose his footing or stumbled over the security guy because he’s almost on his face suddenly – would be if the vice grip on his arm hadn’t remained as tight as it did when he’d gone down.

Elijah mutters something under his breath, but they’re almost out now anyway, Josh telling him to leave it. Still, the man is already sprinting ahead as he calls out, “hey, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” as he ducks to secure himself under his friends other arm again. “I’ve got him, man, calm down. Hey—” He’s pointing to someone off to the side then. “Hey, tell your security to loosen up, will you? Jeeze, I—”

“Let him go, Levi,” a voice among the crowd calls back, and Josh can’t place it -in the masses or his memory- and has to take a moment to search through the faces rushing past in the opposite direction. Then he spots him. The only one in the rush that’s stood still, and suddenly Josh is too.

He’s not looking at the bouncer as he adds, “take your break, chill out,” but is instead mirroring Josh’s gaze. The change in Jack’s appearance is almost enough to make Josh doubt himself; his hair styled with precision and beard shaved cleanly to show off skin that glows in a way that Josh can’t imagine New York has graced him with, even in the summer. He wonders where else he’s been.

He looks older too, but not in a way that might suggest he’s aged. Rather in a way that exposes some kind of maturity Josh had never seen in the past, purely in the way that Jack seems to stand taller, burying any of the vulnerability that he might have once had.

The same vulnerability that Josh himself still struggles to shake off sometimes.

He supposes he was bound to run into him eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon – or under these circumstances. In a forced, awkward reunion at Arthur’s maybe, but not a busy Chelsea club on a Friday night.

“Hi.” Jack’s soft smile doesn’t even try to match the tone he’d used before, but he’s not just looking at Josh now, he’s addressing him too as he adds, “sorry about him.”

Does he even recognise me? Josh doesn’t dare ask.

Somewhere in the flock ahead, Elijah is supporting Kev alone – maybe through the door by now, but Josh has fallen behind, stuck on the spot and unable to see over heads or through bodies. Not that he’s trying, too busy focussing on—

“Jack.” He’s meant to tell him that it’s alright, or maybe thank him for easing the guy off, but it seems to slip his mind.

He’d have guessed Jack was just visiting the city too, for no other reason than the fact that seeing the man in this world seems so bizarre to him. But then, picturing him anywhere other than that place would feel surreal, he’d suppose. Then there’s that bouncer, Levi, who had practically bowed to him as he walked away, nodding firmly to Jack. Jack with his styled hair and his royal blue blazer.

Jack cuts through his thoughts. “You heading out?”

“Yeah, uh. Kev. He’s had a little too much,” he tries to joke, and Jack gives an ‘oh, right’ kind of nod before he gestures to the door and they begin to walk together, towards the exit. “Gonna try and soak up the tequila in the diner across the street before we head back.”

The obvious conversation to have is what the hell are you doing here? But he can’t seem to bring himself to be so bold.

Soon the cold air outside is biting at his arms; any trace of the summer heat they’d enjoyed earlier today completely vanished. It’s not an awkward silence, per se, but he feels Jack’s mind racing just the same as his own as they step aside, away from the large doors where the bass of the music inside had followed them out. He focusses on looking around the busy street for his friends, already gritting his teeth against the cold. “Barney’s pizza is a crowd favourite at around this time – you better hurry.”

“Hm? Oh!” He laughs, linking the name with the illuminated building he’s headed too. He supposes they’re acting like this is all normal. “Wouldn’t be a huge shame really. We ate before we came out. Kev is just…”

“Josh!” Speak of the devil. He spies Kevin swinging from a post at the other side of the street, and exchanges a look with Jack, raising a brow as the man chuckles in return. You better hurry? Was he trying to get rid of him already? Kev shouts, “I love New York!”

Jack is digging around in his inside pocket as his eyes trail across the street where the man is now spinning around the pole as Trevor and Dylan (who must have been waiting outside the diner for them) try to slow him down. They’re too taken over by their own laughter to be much use. Elijah must be thinking the same as he stands a few paces back from the trio, his arms crossed as he shakes his head before glancing across the street. Josh thinks he might roll his eyes as he smiles in his direction but is too far away to be certain. He laughs anyway in return.

He hears a small click and, when he looks back towards Jack, the man is still watching his ridiculous friend swing in circles, but Josh is relieved to see the man smiling around a cigarette as he asks, “your boyfriend?”

He snorts, can’t even entertain the idea as he shakes his head. “God no. Just a friend,” he amends, watching again just in time to catch Elijah glance up the street before braving the road.

He sprints over to their side, Josh’s jacket still in hand, which he hands over once he’s within arms reach, telling him, “put this on, it’s freezing.” It feels tense for a second as the man exchanges a look with Jack, before he says, “thanks for helping my buddy out,” as he points over his shoulder. “He’s a different guy after a tequila or two.”

A cloud of smoke fogs up the air around Jack as he laughs, shaking his head as he takes another drag. “No worries,” his voice is thick with smoke until he completes his exhale. “Don’t mind Levi, he’s just pissy ‘cause his wife’s having an affair with some guy from Jersey. You smoke?”

Elijah takes a cigarette from the man, ignoring the disapproving hit from the back of Josh’s hand. He doesn’t smoke when he’s sober but, where tequila turns Kev into a show dancer, it turns Elijah into a chain smoker - despite Josh’s best efforts to prevent it. Jack pockets his lighter after lighting Elijah’s cigarette as he tells them “I didn’t realise you knew each other.”

If seeing Jack in the real world was surreal, this is downright unnatural. Elijah opens him mouth to speak, and there’s something cheap about the idea of letting the man break the news for him, so, when an arm resting over his shoulders, Josh says, “he’s my boyfriend,” before his other half gets the chance.

He supposes it makes sense for Elijah to have met Jack if he’s some kind of manager at the club. E’s had their booth booked for months now; had swung by just yesterday to finalise the details - with Jack, apparently.

Jack doesn’t falter though, just smiles again; nods once more as if to say, ‘that’s nice.’ Good. Josh can smile about it too. Does smile even, when Jack says, “cool, how long?” and Elijah takes the question this time because Josh is busy thinking about how there’s nothing strange about introducing your new boyfriend to your ex-boyfriend after bumping into one-another after years of zero communication on both parts, in a foreign city at the other side of the country - and did he mention that they met in an illegally run asylum, he and his ex? Because that’s probably an important factor, too.

That pizza is sounding a lot more appetising right now as he looks across the road to where his friends wait patiently for them to finish their exchange. Trev looks like he’s about to pull Kevin’s arm from his socket as he holds him back from his attempts to cross the road after Elijah – likely for the cigarette he’s acquired.

“Blacklist, wow,” he hears Elijah mutter then, having missed where the conversation had gone. “I forget it actually happened,” he then adds, rambling a little more than usual in his drunken state. Josh has never told him in-depth about the relationships he had in Blacklist. If Jack’s name has ever propped up, it’s for the sake of filling in the gaps of a story rather than giving a rundown of his sexual history. That being said, if Elijah happens to recognise names like Arthur or Billy or Stella over, say, Jack Croft, then that’s purely a coincidence. “Doesn’t sound real, you know?”

“You’re telling me.” Jack’s being polite: if someone had said something like that to Josh, he’d have been damn close to biting their head off at one time, but Jack somehow manages to put it into perspective without being an asshole about it.

He doesn’t mean to get so anxious about the situation, but he must do because he focusses so much on the smaller details that he misses half of the conversation they have. At some point, Kevin makes it across the road and is dragging Elijah back towards the diner in a similar way to how Trevor had done with him. His boyfriend says his goodbyes and Josh is preparing his own parting words as he begins to make his exit, but then Elijah’s waving him off as he says, “you guys should catch up – we’re only across the road. I’ll order for you.” He leans in for a kiss that Josh almost refuses -cigarette breath- but lets it slide just this once.

He’s about to make his excuses anyway and head off with the rest of them, but Jack’s already nodding politely, saying, “yeah, why not?” and his boyfriend is being dragged away and then they’re alone on one side of the road while his friends huddle into the 24-hour diner on the other.

Suddenly the street feels quieter and the crowd further away as the two of them stand before each other with no distractions but a hazy bass deep inside the building behind them. He should have said yes to that cigarette, he thinks as he tucks his hands into his jacket pockets uselessly, clueless as to how to hold himself anymore as a million questions coming to mind now, that he hadn’t even considered a second earlier.

Jack picks one for him. “What are you doing in New York?”

He answers him easily- “Elijah booked up for my birthday.” -safe in the knowledge that their introductions have already been made. Elijah, his boyfriend. Current boyfriend.

“No kidding. Happy early birthday.”

“Thanks. Yeah, uh... Small world.” They both clear their throats at the same time. Josh adds, “what about you?”

“Uh, I own the club.” He looks bashful as he says it, looking down to where he kicks the ground with a shoe that looks too expensive to be scuffed on some New York sidewalk. Josh wants to ask how on earth he found himself here. How he seems so well despite those years that he let alcohol take over him, only to now own a bar in Chelsea. He forgets that a conversation usually requires two or more people to take turns in speaking, but Jack takes it upon himself to pick it up again as he asks, “how long have you been here?”

“Just a couple of days.” He’s quick to reply. “You?”

“God… Eighteen months now.”

“Wow, good for you.”

“Thanks, yeah.”

“Any insider tips? We fly back on Sunday.”

“Comedy Cellar in Greenwich Village isn’t bad. There’s a show tomorrow, actually.”

“Will you be there?” Shit. Bad question. Awful question. Why would he—

“Nah, I’ll be back here, cleaning this mess.”

Thank God. “Got it.”

It flows and it doesn’t. They answer so fast that it’s clear they’re chasing out an awkward silence. They allow themselves to slow down then though, pretending to be distracted; Jack by the people still filtering out of the building (his building) and Josh by the group of four that laugh over the table of the diner opposite.

Elijah is trying to read from a menu while Kev attempts to snatch it away, just to be a pain no doubt. They feel an entire world away from where he stands with Jack, who feels so out of their league as he leans back against the brick wall and takes another long drag of his cigarette.

Images of the man stood against a similar brick wall, only mossy and cracked and along the edge of a dreary courtyard flash before him, but Josh can’t find the link. Jack holds the smoke almost elegantly between two fingers, bringing it to his lips and back down again smoothly. No chapped lips or shaky hands, no brushing his hair from his face or rubbing red eyes with dry knuckles. No, there’s no correlation at all.

“So, where’s back?” Jack asks, catching him off guard.

“Sorry?”

“On Sunday. Where are you going back to? Where’s home?”

“Oh, San Francisco… A little outside Silicone Valley.” Now it’s his turn to watch the ground, his cheeks flushing at the fact. The Gay Capital of America. That’s that they call it, and he wishes he could defend his choice, but, honestly, he can’t. He never went home; flew over to the coast the second he got the chance to leave the rundown hotel he was staying at in exchange for another, not-so-run down hotel. Wanted to live a little; didn’t want to be alone; wanted to find somewhere where the people would embrace him – would embrace anyone. He travelled across the country in search of love. He can admit that, but not to Jack. Can’t admit how eager he was to shake the dreary waters of Blacklist off his back and pretend it had never happened. “We own a hotel out there. Or—I own it. Elijah’s just my backseat driver when I need him to be.”

Jack’s laughing but it’s not jeering. No, he looks taken aback, head shaking again as he pushes himself away from the wall with the new energy he suddenly has. “Woah, that’s. Awesome. Really. I’ve never been but I’ve been wanting to.”

Of course he has. He’d fit right in there. Josh would be tempted to say Jack’s on the complete wrong side of the country if not for the fact that he’s seen him here now and witnessed how he thrives on a busy New York street.

“Let me know if you do, I’ll—”

“Josh!” Elijah’s stood at the entrance of Barney’s, hands in his pockets and shoulders drawn up in the cold. They look towards him together, and he gestures to the diner beside him to suggest that their food is ready.

“That’s me,” he says with an apologetic smile, which Jack returns as he drops his cigarette, expensive shoe grinding against the slab beneath him.

“I ought to go back inside anyway.” He checks his watch. “Forty minutes ‘til closing, yikes. I’ve got a lot of shit to do. You’re causing havoc already, Joshua Yates.”

“Cole.” Jack frowns – confused by the single syllable and Josh shrugs slightly as he scratches the base of his neck. “My name.”

The man’s frown only deepens, but then flickers to something lighter. Intrigue? “I… You. I mean… To Elijah?” He blinks, gesturing across the street.

“Oh. No, no.” Josh huffs in amusement, shaking his head. “I mean that I changed it.”

Jack blinks again, his understanding visually dawning on him as he lets out a simple “huh” at first as he considers this. “You said you would.” Josh nods. He had said that, hadn’t he? Right before he said he wanted to leave Blacklist and everyone in it, and never look back without a hint of remorse. He sees a similar realisation wash over Jack’s face before the man adds, “have a good life, Joshua Cole,” his soft smile returning.