#i wanted to post this because the moment quart hands him a gun is the moment i decided a spin-off of these two

[astrovian]

Richard Armitage & Carlos Cuevas being an adorable crime-fighting duo in The Man From Rome (2022)

[abalonetea]

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter One

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang! Thank you for working with me, Dot! 

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society. Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter One – Hi Banks Florida

“ - increased reports of unprecedented aggression all across New York City. This is following in the wake of Mayor Alex Grand’s assault on his wife. These attacks have increased nearly ten fold in the wake of the recent vaccine’s release, prompting many to wonder if the vaccine was released too soon – should more tests have been done? Could this be a side effect of it? We have reached out to the head of the FDA, Doctor - “

The television goes to pure static, a hissing crackle of black and white fuzz. Eddie groans. “Seriously? I was watchin’ that!”

“Guess you ain’t watching it now,” says Carson, draping himself over the back of the couch. He curls an arm around Eddie’s chest, pinning him against the back of the couch. “You should be at work, anyway.”

“Penny don’t got work for me today.”

“Then you should be out working on the truck. I’m sick of walking to the docks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He shifts, leaning up and wrapping his own arms around Carson’s neck, tugging until his boyfriend is leaning down enough that Eddie can kiss him. “I can’t fix the truck ‘till we get a part mailed in. Penny let me use the work account.”

“Bullshit,” says Carson. “You just don’t want too.”

“It ain’t bullshit. It’s, uh, truth shit.”

“Wow.” Carson shakes off Eddie’s grip. “You worked hard on that one, huh? Whatever, don’t work on the truck. I’ve got actual work to get too.”

Eddie twists, pulling himself up so he can drape over the back of the couch. “Gonna rain today. Take an extra shirt.”

Carson says, “sure, I’ll put it in the truck so it stays dry. Oh, wait.”

And, okay, so Eddie kind of deserves that one. The truck hasn’t been running for almost a week now. This isn’t the first time that it’s stopped working. Carson bought it straight out of the local junkyard five years back, and it’s pretty much held together with duck tape – literally – and chewing gum – which might be the next step.

Eddie really is waiting on the part to come in.

The problem is that he sort of forgot to order it until yesterday.

Drooping, Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. “I’ll see if I can’t fudge it, okay? Just, I dunno, don’t get hit by lightning. The storm’s supposed to be nasty.”

“Great.” Carson shoves on one boot, then the other. “So we’re going to have no power tonight.”

“I’ll fill the tub.”

“Summer sucks ass.”

“Florida sucks ass,” corrects Eddie.

Carson thinks on it, then bobs his head in agreement. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go with that one.”

“You gonna be home for - “ The television bursts back into being with a crackle of too loud sound. Eddie swears.

The woman on TV reads off, “ - no official links between the two. Gerald Harbrinks has been arrested today for the most bizarre case of armed robbery the county has ever seen, in which he dropped his gun and instead chose to bite the cashier - “

Eddie mutes it. “Sorry. One’a these days we need to get actual cable.”

“Yeah, when toads fly,” says Carson. “You doing dinner?”

Eddie thinks about what they have in the pantry. Not much, but probably enough to throw at least half a meal together. He’s better at cooking and coming up with things than Carson is. “Yeah. You going to be back before dark?”

Carson shrugs. “How should I know? They never tell me anything. I might not even have to stay if it rains.”

“Babe, if it rains, they’re gonna make you stay out of spite, and you know it,” says Eddie, because the guy who runs the docks is kind of an ass.

Carson grunts. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

“No problem.” Eddie shuts the TV off all the way and finally pries himself up off of the couch. “So, dinner, unless we lose power. We’ll have to hit up Red’s. He’s got that grill or whatever.”

He sways his way over to his boyfriend, plasters himself against Carson’s front and schmoozes his way in for a kiss. Carson curls an arm around him for a moment, then makes a face. “Come on, man. I gotta at least get down there before the rain starts or I won’t make shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” says Eddie. “Get outta here. Don’t get drowned or nothing.”

* * *

Hi Banks, Florida is the sort of place you’re born into, you slog through, and then you die in. And mostly, the people are okay with that. Why leave a good thing, right? Or maybe it’s more that the people born into Hi Banks just have a hard time getting together the chance to leave.

The trailer park is on the backside of town, filled up with old mobile homes and trailers parked up on cinder blocks. The paths between homes flood any time it rains and Eddie makes a point of sloshing his way through the puddles until the inside of his sneakers are soaked and his stained up jeans are covered in mud. Splash! Slosh! Splat!

The Calloway’s have added a new pick up truck to the collection of cars sitting out front. Eddie would bet it’s like the rest of their vehicles and the engine doesn’t actually roll over. Not that he can say too much on that front, considering his own truck.

If there’s any chance that he can trick the thing into running, he needs another quart of oil and – well, it is his fault that Carson’s going to have to walk home in the rain later, so Eddie figures he’ll pick up a box of swiss rolls while he’s out. Swiss rolls are Carson’s favorite.

Sweets in general are his favorite, but whatever.

So he sloshes his way through the trailer park and out onto the long, main road that cuts through the center of town. If you keep going long enough in one direction, it will take you to the highway. Keep going long enough in the other, you’ll hit the swamps.

There’s just the one commercially owned grocery store in the whole town. The parking lot is mostly empty, which isn’t a surprise considering it’s the middle of a Monday, and also about to cut loose. The wind’s started to pick up and everything, clouds dark and violent overhead. Eddie scurries into the shop, muttering a brief ���hey’ to Annie Green when he passes her counter and heads towards the back.

Fitz is curled over the meat case muttering under his breath to himself, which is less unusual than it sounds. Eddie opts not to wave at him, and instead just goes for the cake aisle. It’s so picked over that it’s ridiculous. There aren’t any swiss rolls so he grabs the oatmeal cookies instead.

No doubt that the milk and bread aisles are already empty, to go with the alarmingly small amount of paper product. Up at the check out, he asks Anne, “you seen Roy come in yet today? He owes me ten bucks.”

“Nope.” The machine beeps when Anne scans the box of cookies. “Is Ftiz still back at the meat? I swear, he’s been in here for an hour.”

“Yeah. Maybe he’s stocking up on it.”

“Even Fitz isn’t stupid enough to stock up on meat right before we’re due for hurricane season.” Anne holds out her hand and Eddie fishes a crumpled five from his back pocket to pass over. “You talk to him?”

“Nope.”

Anne heaves out a sigh. “Great. Guess I can walk back and deal with it. If he’s drunk - “

“If he’s drunk, call his wife. She’ll have his ass for drinking that much this early in the day.���

Anne snorts. “Yeah, she will.”

Eddie shifts from one foot to the next, peering out the glass front doors. It’s still raining hard outside. “You think this is gonna light up any time soon?”

“Supposed to rain all evening. I’m surprised that they haven’t canceled work at the docks,” says Anne.

“Ugh. Great. Just, double bag them, I guess. I have to walk back in this.”

Anne doubles the bag and Eddie steps back out into the deluge. He’s soaked in a matter of minutes.

* * *

“Fucking Hell!” Eddie shakes himself off as he steps into the trailer. He fumbles around in the dark for the first few minutes, stripping out of his sodden clothes and down to his equally sodden boxers. Still swearing, he drops the bag of soaked oatmeal cookies onto the counter and flips on the light switch for the kitchen.

Nothing happens.

Eddie swears louder.

There’s the sound of something shuffling about from the bedroom. Eddie grabs the natty tea towel off the front of the stove handle and uses it to wipe off his face. “That you, babe?”

No answer. The shuffling sound gets closer. Eddie rolls his eyes and attempts to pat himself dry with the hand towel. It has a mixed amount of success in actually accomplishing anything.

“I got you cookies. They should be dry. Cause of the plastic and stuff?”

Still no answer. Eddie mutters under his breath. Fine, he’ll just have the cookies himself.

He pops open the plastic wrapper and pulls out a handful of them, carrying them over to the couch – where he finds Carson stretched out, massive headphones in, and a blanket pulled down over him.

“What the Hell, man.” Eddie kicks the couch base. “Move your legs.”

Carson grumbles and slides his headphones out. “When did you get back?”

“Like, five minutes ago. I went to get you cakes, but they didn’t have none.” He passes Carson a cookie instead. “You could’ve said something when you came out of the bedroom.”

Carson squints at him. “What are you talking about?”

Something in the bedroom is knocked over. CRASH. Eddie jerks, spinning around and squinting into the dark of the trailer. “So, uh, that’s not you.”

“Of course it ain’t me,” says Carson. He shoves the blanket onto the back of the couch, swings his legs over the cushions, and leverages himself up. There’s a bat by the front door. Eddie grabs it and passes it to Carson, because he’s tiny and Carson’s not.

“Chicken,” mutters Carson, but he doesn’t look thrilled to have to go deal with this. “We got that flashlight in the kitchen?”

“Batteries are dead,” says Eddie.

“Great. Storm season, and we’ve got bad batteries.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a hurricane breaking stuff in our bedroom, babe.”

Carson shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. “No duh.”

They make their way to the little off shooting bedroom, Eddie tucked close to Carson’s back. It’s at least still early enough in the evening that wane, yellow light creeps in through the nearby window. Carson presses a hand to the door, pulls in a deep breath, and shoves it open.

What happens next happens fast: there’s motion from the over turned bedside table. Carson swings with the bat, effectively smashing their lamp to pieces. The neighbor’s fat, orange tabby cat gives an indignant hiss and jumps onto the bed, then out through the nearby busted window. There’s glass all over everything, from the lamp and the window, and rain has blown in from the storm soaking the bed and the table in equal parts. The carpet nearby squishes loudly when Carson takes a step.

“Oh,” says Eddie. “Window’s broke.”

Carson drops the bat onto the ground. “That’s it. We’re going to Red’s.”

[together-forevermore-blog]

For the Love of Outlander - Tearin’ my guts out and Forgiven

Ah. . .the glow and euphoria of new, young love. We’ve all seen it. That couple that’s so newly in love that they can’t keep their eyes off of each other (and usually body parts), sharing smiles that threaten to blind a room, and make older and wiser spectators shake their heads and knowingly smile at past memories.

I remember being on my honeymoon and a waiter came up to our table asking “How long have you guys been married?” My hubby and I were somewhat shocked that he was asking, but I still answered him. “Two days.” He chuckled and nodded as he placed our drinks on the table and then motioned with his head to the bar behind him.

“Ah. We were wondering since you can’t keep your eyes off of each other and your rings are still shinny.” His “we” referring to the other servers and bartenders in the lounge and as he walked away with our order, my hubby and I blushed at the fact that we’d attracted so much attention.

Googly eyes and loving touches are expected when you encounter newlyweds. But there’s something else that’s common among young and new love, something that isn’t usually the image that pops into one’s head when thinking about these love struck couples, and oftentimes comes as a surprise to those in freshly sprung relationships: arguments.

Are you scratching your head? Asking “Ali, is your favorite Jamie and Claire moment really one where they argue?” Yup. It sure is. I mean, I love watching them kiss, laugh and love each other, but if I’m being one hundred percent honest, my favorite moment involves them ripping each other apart and here’s why: It leads to them having a better understanding of how much they really care for each other, and, in the case of the show, reveals how much Jamie loves Claire.

I’m talking about the moments after Jamie and squad rescues Claire from Black Jack at Fort William. The famous fight between them where Jamie yells at Claire for getting herself in trouble and Claire at him for blaming her and treating her like property. Or at least that’s what they tell themselves and each other their fight is about.

But then the argument changes, much like it does when “real life” couples disagree, after one, or both, say something that exposes the real reason why they’re upset. For Jamie, it happens when he agrees with her that he thinks Claire ran away because of what happened at the glade, to get back at him for not being able to protect her, revealing that he also blames himself.

What about Claire? She initially argues that he treats her like property because that’s what men see woman as during that time. That she isn’t allowed to do what she wants because she’s only a woman. But as she continues, she lets slip that her real frustration is in feeling like she’s stuck in a time and place, and now, she’s married someone she was basically forced to marry.

To us, the readers and watchers of this story, we can see past the heated words and finger pointing. But it takes a little longer for Jamie and Claire to understand what the argument is really about, and they continue on with even more rage:

- Outlander, Diana Gabaldon -

Chapter 21: Un Mauvais Quart d’Heure after Another

“I don’t like it! I don’t like it a bit! but that doesn’t matter either, does it? As long as I’m there to warm your bed, you don’t care what I think or how I feel! That’s all a wife is to you - something to stick your cock into when you feel the urge!”

At this, his face went dead white and he began to shake me in earnest. My head jerked violently and my teeth clacked together, making me bite my tongue painfully.

“Let go of me!” I shouted. “Let go, you” - I deliberately used the words of Harry the deserter, trying to hurt him - “you rutting bastard!” He did let go, and fell back a pace, eyes blazing.

“Ye foul-tongued bitch! Ye’ll no speak to me that way!”

“I’ll speak any way I want to! You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Seems I can’t! Ye’ll do as ye wish, no matter who ye hurt by it, won’t ye? Ye selfish, willfull - “

“It’s your bloody pride that’s hurt!” I shouted. “I saved us both from the deserters in the glade, and you can’t stand it, can you? You just stood there! If I hadn’t had a knife, we’d both be dead now!”

Until I spoke the words, I had had no idea that I had been angry with him for failing to protect me from the English deserters. In a more rational mood, the thought would never have entered my mind. It wasn’t his fault, I would have said. It was just luck that I had the knife, I would have said. But now I realized that fair or not, rational or not, I did somehow feel that it was his responsibility to protect me, and that he had failed me.Perhaps because he so clearly felt that way.

“You saw that post in the yard in the fort?” I nodded shortly.

“Well I was tied to that post, tied like an animal, and whipped ‘til my blood ran! I’ll carry the scars from it ‘til I die. If I’d not been lucky as the devil this afternoon, that’s the least as would have happened to me. Likely they’d have flogged me, then hanged me.” He swallowed hard, and went on.

“I knew that, and I didna hesitate for one second to go into that place after you, even thinking that Dougal might  be right! Do ye know where I got the gun I used?” I shook my head numbly, my own anger beginning to fade. “I killed a guard near the wall. He fired at me; that’s why it was empty. He missed and I killed him wi’ my dirk; left it sticking in his wishbone when I heard you cry out. I would hav killed a dozen men to get to you, Claire” His voiced cracked.

“And when you screamed, I went to you, armed wi’ nothing but an empty gun and my two hands.” Jamie was speaking a little more calmly now, but his eyes were still wild with pain and rage. I was silent. Unsettled by the horror of my encounter with Randall, I had not at all appreciated the  desperate courage taken for him to come into the fort after me.

And like with so many arguments, there’s a turn. When both parties are spent and the yelling and spewed, hurtful words lead to an enlightenment for one or both. Finally revealing the hidden issues that led to the disagreement, in this case, disappointment and feeling scared.

He turned away suddenly, shoulders slumping.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “Aye, you’re quite right.” Suddenly the rage was gone from his voice, replaced by a tone I had never heard in him before, even in the extremities of physical pain.

“My pride is hurt. And my pride is about all I’ve got left to me.” He leaned his forearms against a rough barked pine and let his head drop onto them, exhausted. His voice was so low I could barely hear him.

“You’re tearin’ my guts out, Claire.”

So heartbreaking when he admits this, but it leads to two important things: a strengthening of their relationship and an incredible acceptance of apologies.

Something very similar was happening to my own. Tentatively, I came up behind him. He didn’t move, even when I slipped my arms around his waist. I rested my cheek on his bowed back. His shirt was damp, seated through with the intensity of his passion, and he was trembling.

“I’m sorry,” I said, simply. “Please forgive me.” He turned then, to hold me tightly. I felt his trembling ease bit by bit.

“Forgiven, lass,” he murmured at last into my hair. Releasing me, he looked down at me, sober and formal.

“I’m sorry too,” he said. “I’ll ask your pardon for what I said; I was sore, and I said more than I meant. Will ye forgive me too?” After his last speech, I hardly felt that there was anything for me to forgive, but I nodded and pressed his hands.

“Forgiven.”

It’s amazingly written and when I read it, I couldn’t imagine anything being added to make it better. Then the episode that contains this moment aired and I was floored. The complete switch in view point to Jamie, in my humble opinion, was brilliant. Providing addition insight into why he forgave her and further revealing his growing love for her, making me love the moment even more:

She asked forgiveness, and I gave it. But the truth is, I’d forgiven everything she’d done and everything she could do long before that day. For me that was no choice. That was falling in love.