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harknessxo · 1 year ago

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Chapter III ✧ A Distraction

Paring: Rhea Ripley x Roman Reigns

Summary: Rhea needs a distraction.

Warnings; Smut, cussing

Word Count: 4.9k

Masterlist

A/n: Both me and @tonuitekan wrote this chapter. Also I’m starting a taglist so lmk if you want to be added.

After Damian left Rhea decided that he was right and that she needed to get her shit together at Crown Jewel. She was taking a shower when both Roman and Dom’s messages went through so she didn’t see them. She had also put her phone on dnd to get away from all the drama and have this day to herself. She decided to go downtown and walk around. When she was done with the shower she got dressed, put her shoes on, grabbed her phone and keys and went out the door.

She decided to go down the stairs rather than take the elevator. When she did, she was on her way to the exit when she noticed Zelina chatting with Natalya for a bit before she turned to leave and noticed her. “Oh, Rhea, you’re finally up—“

“Look, if you’re gonna ask, don’t bother.” Rhea immediately said as she began to walk past her. At that, Zelina rolled her eyes and managed to catch up to her.

“Nena por favor,” She said to her as she stood in front of her. “I’m not here to call you out on whatever shit you’re doin’.” At that, Rhea gave her an unconvinced look while the smaller woman spoke to her. “Some of us are minding our business about our own life, okay? Hell, I’m not even interested in making your life miserable or to seek beef with you. And, if I’m being honest here girl, you don’t look okay.” She told her as she gestured at the taller woman while shaking her head. “What I suggest you do is just wind down and forget aaaaaaany issues that you have going on or whatever. For a little bit, at least.”

“Hm. Yeah, you know, that’s exactly what it was going to do, Zelina.” Came out Rhea’s sarcastic remark, along with her sarcastic smirk as she looked down at her. “Which is why I’m asking you to please leave me alone—“

“No-no, wait, hold on, just hear me out.” Zelina interrupted her as she placed a hand in front of her to stop her from leaving. “… I’m not saying that you need it, but… I’m going with a group for drinks tonight.”

At that, Rhea blinked and arched an eyebrow. “And what does that have to do with…?”

Zelina rolled her eyes. “What I’m saying is that you need some booze, puta. That’s where I’m getting at.”

“Zelina, we literally work tomorrow.”

“And? Don’t tell me you’ve never woken up with a hangover before. Girl- if anyone needs it, it’s you.” Zelina pointed at her. “Listen, you do what you gotta do right now. But if you wanna tag along, text me before five-thirty so we can meet here at the lobby.”

“… you know who’s going?”

“Not sure. All I know is that a group is going. Look, Santos said that there’s a bar downtown that he went along with the other guys a few weeks ago and he told all of us that we should go. So right now we’re the ones getting people to join tonight. And right now, I’m getting you to come along, only if you want to.”

Rhea began to ponder, looking away for a few seconds before she turned to deliver her response to Zelina. “… I’ll be here at five.”

At that, Zelina perked up before she blinked, somewhat surprised by Rhea’s quick response. “Wait, for real?”

“Yeah for real, I’ll text you.” She simply said as she walked past her. “But only because I need to wind the fuck down.”

She walked away as Zelina watched her leave, blinking in surprise as she watched her go outside while she spoke to herself. “… okay girl, that’s the energy you need…”

6:00 PM

“We’re here!” Jimmy called out, a huge grin forming on his face as he parked the van near the parking area at the bar. “Also y’all, whoever is driving us back home, you better not get drunk cuz imma get fucked up!”

“Yeah yeah, Jimmy, that means you, right?” Came Finn’s comment as he snorted while Jimmy gave him a look as he sat up from the driver’s seat.

“Man come on, ya know we all need it, even me!” He opened the door as he got out first, all the while the others followed suit.

“Uh yeah, sure, y’all need it, but I’m just saying, we need to be back at the hotel cuz some of us work tomorrow, you know.” Raquel called out as she rolled her eyes, gathering some of her stuff as she followed the others outside as well.

“Well Raquel how ‘bout you keep an eye on us, eh?”

“Nah, not feeling like it.”

“… Damn.”

Disregarding the clamor, chatter and commotion around her, Rhea simply sat up from her place inside the van before she made her way out. She then looked at the bar from the outside, figuring and determining that this was the exact bar Zelina was talking about. She then looked at the time on her watch before she went and followed the group. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt even if she was scheduled to work later. After all, she needed to find some sort of distraction.

“Hey Rips,” She heard Damian’s voice as he caught up to her while they both walked in together along with the others. “Are you doing okay now?”

At the question, she wanted to shrug her shoulders and not say anything but knowing her best friend, she decided to speak. “I’ll be alright. Just need to drink for a bit.”

“Okay. I’ll be tagging along with Dom and the others, alright?” Damian nodded at her, hearing the sound of music almost competing with their voices as soon as they walked in while he opted to speak louder this time just so she could hear him. “If you need anything, we’ll be here!”

“I’ll let you know!” Rhea nodded as they both parted ways. She then sighed, going straight to the bar to order herself something to drink. As she did, Zelina was quick to interrupt her conversation with Carlito while approaching the Australian as she sat down with her.

“See? Told you it wasn’t a bad idea coming here.”

“Don’t get too comfortable. Not gonna thank you yet.” Rhea simply said as she while Zelina wanted to laugh at that.

“Nah, you’re gonna thank me later. Trust me, you will.” The bartender then approached them as Zelina ordered their drinks while Rhea looked out at the crowd of people who were drinking, eating, dancing, chatting, and literally doing anything that you would normally see at a bar.

“Hey.”

At the voice, Rhea perked up as she realized who it belonged to way too well. She turned to her side to see Dom approach her after he was speaking to both Finn and Damian from the other table. “Dom…”

“I left you a few texts. I… saw the ones you left last night.”

At this, Rhea suddenly went silent as she looked down. Zelina noticed this as she looked at the two. “I’ll… just walk away for now. Riri, if you want, imma be with Raquel. You can find us whenever you’re free.”

Rhea only nodded as the bartender served their drinks while Zelina paid for them both. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Lemme know if you’re getting refills!” The shorter woman called out as she was already walking away to Raquel’s table. Once she left, Rhea turned to Dom as she took a deep breath and finally spoke.

“Look. About last night, I…” Rhea told him as she took her drink in her hand and sat down on the stool chair near the bar while Dominik did the same. “I was intending on telling you at some point… but I wasn’t sure when. And I didn’t want to drag it any further, either.”

Dominik looked to his side for a second as he seemed to contemplate on her words. He then looked at her in the eye, with Rhea almost holding her breath and preparing for what he was about to say or do as he spoke.

“… did this all start after we went to help Roman and the Bloodline that night?”

“… yes.”

“How many times since then?”

“Four.” Rhea admitted, deciding to be truthful as a pang of guilt hit her like a tidal wave at that moment. “I wanted to stop it, I really did. But…”

“… you’re feeling something for Roman, aren’t you?” Came his sudden question which made Rhea look up at him, completely speechless.

“Dom, I—“

“Rhea, please.” Dominik sighed. “If it was a one time thing then maybe we would’ve just… you know, act like nothing happened and move on with our lives. I would’ve been fine with it. But four times?”

“But I still wanted to stop it.”

“Did you?” He asked her, almost doubting her sincerity for the first time as he looked at her. Rhea rubbed her forehead as she tried to find the words to speak and looked down.

“Look, I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what I was thinking. If I could take it all back, I would’ve done it by now. Trust me when I say this.” She looked him in the eye once again as she went and held his hand. Dominik looked at it, debating on whether he should hold it back or let go as she continued to speak. “Dom, please. I don’t want this to affect us. What we have. We both work together well, and… honestly, I can’t see myself without you. I can’t.”

He pondered on her words as he looked at her hand holding his, her thumb softly rubbing his knuckles. His gaze then softened after a while as he used his other hand to caress her hand as he spoke. “I need some time, Rhea. Just… let me think about it. And I’m sure you have a lot to think about as well. But right now, we can’t rush things after this. This doesn’t mean I’m leaving the group or anything, but… I just need some time on my own, too.”

Rhea remained silent at his words before she felt Dominik’s hand let go of hers slowly, watching him walk away. She couldn’t even find the words to stop him nor say anything as she watched him leave before she tried to compose herself by drinking. After a while, she left her chair and decided to look for Zelina and Raquel. She needed to distract herself from this shit. She had to.

What she didn’t know was that a certain Tribal Chief was watching her from a distance from where he sat along with Jimmy and Solo.

She had been looking for the two women for a while until she gave up. Sighing deeply, she decided to finish her drink and go back inside the van. Thankfully all of them within the group had access to the van since they shared the same keys, so she was able to go inside and lock the door behind her before she went to find her seat. She sat there for a while before she took a deep breath, still attempting to compose herself while she closed her eyes. She clenched her right fist while holding her phone and purse with the other one, until she could no longer maintain herself as she allowed her shoulders to drop and exhaled deeply.

She allowed a few tears to drop from her eyes, knowing that she needed to let all the pressure that she was feeling out, especially while being alone, all the while she was also quick to wipe them away.

She was going to lose Dom. All because of something she should’ve avoided herself from doing. Seeking help from Roman and the Bloodline was both a good idea and a bad idea at the same time. If only she had known this before, none of this would’ve happened. She only had herself to blame and now, things weren’t looking okay right now.

However, the damage was already done and Dom already spoke. He needed some time and space, even though he was still going to remain with the Judgement Day. Regardless, Rhea was beginning to fear that this was it. If Dom decided to end what they have, they’re done for. She’s done for.

Even though what Dom said about her needing some time to think as well was true, she refused to believe that she had her own doubts and thoughts about this whole thing. She knew she loved Dom, she really did. She’s always loved him ever since he decided to join her, Finn and Damian. He was her partner in crime, her person, her everything.

Someone just like Liv.

At that, she sighed deeply and rubbed her head. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. She’s moved on from what her and Liv had and that was it. She was different now, and she refused to go back to the way that she was way back then. That was then. Now, all she wanted was for her and Dominik to remain together.

But then, there’s also Roman.

At the simple thought of just his name, she wanted to pull her own hair out. Or better yet, she wanted to punch the window near her. Just by the thought of him she wasn’t even able to think properly to begin with. Ever since their night together, even. Or, more like ever since the second time that they slept together, which was after their match against Bianca and Bobby. At the thought of that moment, she even wanted to drown herself somehow. She didn’t want to remember anything from that moment at all.

However, it was still engrained in her brain, and there was no way to forget about it. Permanently, at least.

Sighing deeply, she went to the small bathroom inside the van as she checked on herself to make sure that it wasn’t obvious that she was crying or anything before she went out, gathering her phone and purse before she went back to the bar, acting as if nothing happened as she began to locate where Zelina and Raquel were, the music being louder this time as most people were already dancing at this rate. It was around 11:00 PM. Hopefully no one was already drunk, or else she would have to see herself dragging a few people back inside the van- one of them probably being Damian.

After a few minutes, she caught sight of Zelina as the smaller woman had left the dance floor and met up with Raquel again. When she turned around, she noticed Rhea approached. “Finally, it took you a while! Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Rhea said as she sat down with them. “I hope I’m not bothering by sitting here.”

“No, you’re good.” Raquel said quickly as she shook her head. “We’re not in the ring right now, Rips. So you’re good, for now.”

Rhea gave her a smirk of her own as she looked at her. “We’ll see about that at Crown Jewel.”

“Oh, we’ll settle that score later, trust me.”

“Oye, oye, oye, we ain’t in the ring tonight, alright? Alright.” Zelina quickly told the two as she snapped her fingers at them. “Tonight it’s all about forgetting our issues temporarily and just living the moment. Speaking of which, let me get us some drinks, be right back!” She hopped off from her seat before going to the bar. Both Raquel and Rhea saw her leave while Raquel chuckled.

“Well, she has a point.” Rhea said as she shrugged. Raquel turned to her as she shifted in her seat.

“Yeah, let’s… you know what, forget about it.” Raquel dismissed. “I sent you a few texts, just wanted to see if you were alright.”

“Yeah. For now, at least.”

“Good. Cuz we’re gonna need you prepared for Crown Jewel, and I mean it. And honestly, if I end up losing first, well… you’d do me a big favor if you end up kicking Nia’s ass.”

“Oh, that’s a promise right there, don’t worry.” Rhea said as she snorted while Raquel snickered. “I’m not gonna let that slide, trust me.”

Both women chuckled amidst the sound of music and chatter before their conversation awkwardly paused for a minute or so. Nevertheless, Raquel looked out at the crowd of people before she looked at Rhea. “You know if… if there’s a chance of speaking about… you know.”

“About what?” Rhea asked as she turned to face her. Raquel seemed hesitant to speak for a moment before she found the will to do so.

“… about the past. You, me, NXT…? And also Liv and—“

“Raquel, no offense, but I’d appreciate it if we leave that conversation in the future.” The champion interrupted her. She didn’t seem mad or upset. She only seemed neutral, which was something that concerned Raquel for a bit. “Right now, I just want to forget temporarily and… it’s been a hell of a weekend.”

“I know, I understand now.” Raquel nodded, placing both of her hands together. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll respect it. But… just whenever you’re ready to talk about it and—“

“Order up!” Zelina’s voice interrupted Raquel immediately as she arrived with three drinks. “And don’t worry, it’s on me.”

“Again? Girl, are you sure you have enough money?” Raquel asked as she turned and took her drink while Zelina sat back down with them.

“I’ll be alright.” She reassured her. “Now come on. ¡Salud!”

“¡Salud!”

“Cheers!”

The three women clinked their drinks at the same time together before they began to drink.

The night went a bit fast for the group until it was around 2 AM. The bar was beginning to close just as the group was leaving. While some of them had gotten drunk, others were still sober and somewhat sleepy as they took a small nap in the van, waiting until they arrived at the hotel. Solo, who was driving and taking Jimmy’s place after the latter had indeed gotten “fucked up” as one would say, had already announced the group that they arrived back at the hotel as they started to wake up and get out the van.

On their way back inside, Finn and Solo had to carry a drunken Jimmy while Dominik and Rhea were helping Damian back inside his room. The others also made their way back to their rooms as the hotel was a bit empty and quiet. After a while, Rhea and Dom were able to get Damian sobered up as he was now resting on his bed. Both of them left the room after Dominik made sure that the other male was okay before he turned to Rhea.

“Well, I’ll… see you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Yeah… sleep well.” Rhea nodded as she folded her hands inside her pocket. Dominik kissed her temple and gave her a small smile before he began to walk away. Rhea then began to dither before she decided to speak up.

“Dom?”

“Hm?”

“… I’m sorry.”

“…I know. Take care, Rhea. And get some rest.”

With that, Dominik looked down for a second before he went to his room. After he left, the champion herself exhaled as she leaned her back against the wall. She didn’t feel tired nor sleepy at all. There was no use of her going back inside her room just to mop and contemplate about herself and her thoughts. She needed a distraction. Something to make her forget for a bit, again.

Suddenly, she remembers that the bar at the lobby downstairs was still open and that it only closed at 4:30 AM. She looked at the time on her watch. It was 2:20 AM. She could probably still go down and give herself at least one more drink. Perhaps maybe a swim around the pool too, if it was still open.

Making her choice, instead of going to her room, she went to the elevator and down to the lobby.

The ambience within the bar inside the hotel was unlike the one in which the group went to. It was a bit quiet, hence the lack of customers inside as well as with the calming music. Rhea had sat alone as she had her first drink, trying not to contemplate on how she should’ve probably been spending some time with Dominik instead of just being there alone with her own thoughts.

She shifted in her seat, looking up at the TV that was hanging by the corner of the bar, an episode of Private Practice playing as she could only opt to bore her eyes at the show. While she wasn’t a big fan of TV series and she was more of a fan of horror, thinking about doing any of her favorite things was the last thing on her mind right now. What she needed was anything to distract her from everything in her life right now.

It was then that she suddenly realized that when she had her phone in her hand, she remembered that she had placed her phone on DND since she left her room. Quickly, she unlocked her phone and turned her notifications on. Aside from needing to check her emails, she went to her texts first.

One text from Dominik which was from this morning:

‘Can we please talk rn?’

Well, they already did. So that was done… not in the way that Rhea wanted it to, but it was already done. She then went to the next; Zelina’s texts.’

‘Hope you’re doing ok!’ - Sent after they arrived from the bar.

‘Waiting for u at the lobby, wear something nice, girl!’ - Sent to her before heading to the bar.

Next up, she went and opened Raquel’s messages- something that she found untrusting, yet again, but it still didn’t hurt to open them. Most of them, which were about six texts, were mostly asking about if she was alright + hearing what happened the other night, but other than that, nothing.

Rhea then closed every message and even made sure to reply to any that she saw that needed a response. However, once she did, she realized that she missed one. And when she realized who it was, she didn’t even want to open it.

Roman.

‘We need to talk. I’m heading to your room rn.’

Her eyes widened at that as she immediately locked her phone, wishing that she didn’t open the message. It was sent to her this morning before she left. She began to process everything in her head as she looked at the time in which the message was sent. Roman had sent the message around the same time she went downstairs. Meaning that Roman could’ve possibly taken the elevator while she went down the lobby. She rubbed her face and grumbled beneath her breath. This could only mean that Roman was still actually seeking her even after everything that went down. Hell, she even unknowingly avoided him this entire day, all because she was too focused on avoiding her issues.

The question was, why did he want to talk to her? Didn’t he blame her for continuing on with their fling?

All of the sudden she heard a deep voice beside her.

“I’ll pay for her drink and a bourbon whiskey.”

And speak of the devil…

“Roman, what are you doing here?” Rhea said with an annoyed tone.

“I could say the same thing. I just wanted one last drink for the night, what about you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You became my business ever since we made that deal, and ever since we fu-”

“Yes I know, I was there. No need to remind me. That still doesn’t give the right.”

“Look, I'm just trying to help.”

“Well, I don't need your help.”

“I remember saying the same thing back then before being proved wrong by you.”

“You know what, I don’t have time to listen to this nonsense,” Rhea snapped. She chugged the rest of her drink and she was about to get up but was stopped by Roman grabbing her arm like before they had their first affair except this time she didn’t struggle.

“Do you think if I truly didn’t care I would be here?” Roman asked with a soft voice. Rhea didn’t reply instead she sighed and looked away.

“Rhea?”

“...”

“Rhea, look at me.”

“No, Roman, I’ve had enough.” This time Rhea started to walk away, Roman hot on her heels.

“Ripley, wait-”

“Roman, I need some fucking time-”

“Time for what? To drown in your own self pity or the fact that no one has actually taken the time to check on you?” Rhea didn’t know if it was the alcohol in her system or what Roman said but a tear ran down her cheek but quickly wiped it off before Roman saw it. They stopped in front of the elevator doors waiting for the doors to open in silence. The doors finally opened and they went in, that's when Rhea decided to speak.

“You don’t know shit about me, Reigns. And let me make this clear, my business is not your business. Get that through your thick skull.”

“Well as of lately your business also involves me, therefore it is not just your business, it is also mine,” he said standing in front of her while the elevator doors closed behind him, “and until all those problems you got going on are solved and you start acting like yourself, I will not be stepping back.”

“You’re very irritating, you know? But do whatever you want, that’s what you do anyway-” She was cut off by Roman roughly pushing her against the wall and claiming her lips.

“You argue too much,” Roman said into her lips. Rhea just stared at him, doe eyed debating whether she really wanted to push him away or not. Right then, the elevator doors dinged open. Roman looked at Rhea as if asking ‘where do you want to go’ she just nodded but he knew exactly what she meant.

He tapped her leg twice, signaling her to jump on him. He carried her to his hotel room, closing the door with his foot all while still kissing her. He placed her on the bed and started to take his clothes off, discarding them on the floor. Rhea sat back, leaning on her elbows admiring his toned body.

“Are you going to stay there staring or are you going to take those off?” he pointed at her clothes. She smirked before taking her shirt off and throwing it at him, revealing nothing underneath. He shook his head at her antics then crawled on top of her, kissing from her stomach up to her chest. She released soft moans when he began to suck and caress her breast, she ran her fingers through his hair as he did so. Rhea closed her eyes and let herself feel for once.

Roman mentally made it his mission to make her feel good after all the pain she had been going through. He slowly took her pants and panties off, taking his time admiring her like the first time. He wasted no time in putting her legs over his shoulders and putting his mouth to work. He shamelessly lapped over her wet folds like it was his last meal. Rhea's grip on his hair got tighter as her moans got louder. Her moans a sweet melody to his ears.

“Roman- I’m close,” she slurred out. Right when she said that he stopped his movements. She whined and opened her mouth to protest but Roman didn’t let her.

“Shh, I'll be right back,” he said before disappearing through the bathroom door. Rhea could only sigh in desperation. When he came back he was putting on a condom. When he got to the edge of the bed Rhea got on her knees and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Roman was taken aback but kissed her back immediately.

“Roman, fuck me please.”

He gently laid her back on the bed and placed a pillow under her back to make sure she was comfortable. He got in between her legs and entered her dripping core. Roman gave her a few seconds to adjust to his size before he began to move. Rhea pulled him down, her nails scratching his back while he kissed and sucked her neck and collarbone. Her moans only edge him to speed up his movements.

“Please don’t stop, Roman, I'm close,” she begged into his ear.

“I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.”

They had gone multiple rounds throughout the night and it was now 4 am. Both Rhea and Roman were worn out. Roman got up to throw away the third used condom of the night and went into the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean Rhea up but when he got back into the room she was already asleep.

He placed the cloth back in the bathroom before getting into bed with Rhea. And right before falling into a deep slumber, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her body closer to his chest, placing a kiss on her forehead while gently caressing her lower back until sleep had finally taken over him.

#fanfic #smut #angst #rhea ripley x roman reigns #rhea ripley x dominik mysterio #rhea ripley #roman reigns #dominik mysterio #damian priest #the judgment day #the bloodline #the tribal chief #raquel rodriguez #zelina vega #jimmy uso #solo sikoa #wwe #wwe smut

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il-predestinato · 2 years ago

Text

✨ NEW ✨

✨ And That's How I Foksmashed Dad's Championship Trophy ✨

↳rating: T ↳word count: 6,500 ↳pairings/characters: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Sassy, Jimmy ↳summary: Sassy’s favourite human brings home a Green-Eyed Monster. She is not having it. ↳excerpt:

All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy.

(Jimmy had insisted that it was not nice to shame another living creature about their weight, but she was not wrong. With her compact size and considerably more reasonable mass, Sassy was confident that she was much more comfortable for Max to have on his lap than that horrendously oversized creature.)

- 🖋 -

this is our place, we make the rules

(series status: *complete*)

i. set my midnight sorrow free

↳rating: T ↳word count: 13,439 ↳pairings/characters: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly ↳summary: An outsider’s POV of Max and Charles and their enemies to lovers journey from their karting days to end of the 2020 season. ↳excerpt:

He doesn’t blame Max, not really.

If he could have Charles for one night, he would never let him go either.

Maybe he isn’t the one who is losing; Max is also playing a losing game.

You can’t open yourself to Charles and try to exist in his charmed life without becoming irrevocably enamoured.

When Max let Charles walk into his motorhome, when he let Charles slip into his existence, Max didn’t know it then but the battle was already lost.

ii. we don’t know how to rhyme, but damn, we try

↳rating: M ↳word count: 4,862 ↳pairings/characters: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen ↳summary: Post-2019 German Grand Prix, a coda to a scene from ‘set my midnight sorrow free.’ ↳excerpt:

He pulls back reluctantly and misses the warm mouth almost immediately. Stars, he was doomed.

“I want this too,” he tells Charles.

“I don’t believe you.”

He can be so infuriating sometimes, so contrarian. Some day, he might actually make Max lose his mind.

iii. even the sun sets in paradise

↳rating: T ↳word count: 27,774 ↳pairings/characters: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen ↳summary: A decade after ‘set my midnight sorrow free,’ an on-track incident changes everything. A retirement fic. ↳excerpt:

If he had to name the place where the story of Max and Charles began, if there was a moment that divided them into Before and After, there would be a few candidates.

But there was only one correct answer. He would never forget the name.

The place is called Val d’Argenton. Stories are still being written there.

Charles likes to tell the story of the incident - turn by turn, infused with poetic drama, detailing every single emotion: frustration, anger, pure spite. Every time he tells it, his smile grows along with the laughter in his eyes, even as his words recount a tale of opposing emotions.

“I never want to go back to Val d’Argenton,” Charles once confessed.

“We’ll never go back there,” he promised, and Charles knew what he meant.

- 🖋 -

One-Shots

you kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

↳rating: M ↳word count: 3,848 ↳pairings/characters: Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg, Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen ↳summary: Nico reflects on his relationship with Lewis as he watches Max and Charles over the years. Future fic. ↳excerpt:

He didn’t know it then. Nico didn’t know that he could watch two gifted young men fall in love and feel nothing but contempt in his own heart.

The part that hurts the most wasn’t losing Lewis.

It was losing himself.

the entire history of you

↳rating: T ↳word count: 4,944 ↳pairings/characters: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen ↳summary: Two short stories - 1) Max hates pens and is totally not jealous, and 2) the obligatory post-2022 French Grand Prix fic that I wrote as personal therapy. ↳excerpt:

“Smile and look pretty,” Max hisses into his ear, practically dragging him along.

Charles does as he's told.

(The smiling part. The ‘look pretty’ part requires no particular action.)

“So this is my friend,” Max presses on, clapping Charles on the shoulder.

Charles emits something of a half cough, half indignant laugh. The dimpled smile is still plastered on his face. He arches an eyebrow at Max and does his best to convey his trauma: ‘My cheeks are aching. I might pull a muscle or something, and do you really want my cute little face to end up lopsided? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Now hurry up and enact your diabolical plan.’

ii.

He blinks the haziness out of his eyes as he takes in his new surroundings. Immediately, there is something strangely familiar about this place. The sun is just above the horizon, and he has to squint at the outlines of grass and asphalt in the distance.

“This is -” he inhales sharply as realization sets in.

There is an emptiness in his stomach that matches the emptiness in his chest even before he sees the large sign at the entrance: Circuit International du Val d’Argenton.

Max tugs him along by his arm. “Come on,” he chirps brightly. “I called ahead. We have the track to ourselves for a few hours.”

- 🖋 -

Misc

Spotify Wrapped Tumblr Ask Game

↳rating: G to T ↳pairings/characters: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen

#2. “Always Remember Us This Way” by Lady Gaga (word count: 618) 38. “Small Talk” by Katy Perry (word count: 2,093) #45. “Rude” by MAGIC! (word count: 724)

Blurbs/Snippets from WIPs

untitled (Lestappen serial killer AU): Please read warnings before proceeding! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat! Milton Keynes’ Finest (Driver!Max/Engineer!Charles AU) Once Upon a Time in Monte Carlo (Lestappen fairytale AU)

#my fic tag PrincessElectra (my author page on AO3) My AO3 bookmarks

#lestappen #charles leclerc #max verstappen #*#my fic #elle.txt #masterpost #for reference #f1 rpf #my attempt to stay organized...#fave

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inmyfxith · 2 years ago

Text

First Love - Final Part.

Pairing: Jimmy Darling x reader

OC: None

Warnings: None

Words: 1k3

Part. I, Part. II, Part. III

As you walked slowly into the field, your heart was pounding in your chest. You looked around, taking in the sights of the performers and their tents. You could see the tall, lanky contortionist contorting her body in interesting shapes and the strongman lifting heavy weights with ease. You spotted the bearded woman, who waved at you with a friendly smile and the Siamese twins walking together, talking in low tones.

You continued to walk around, taking in the sights and sounds of the place. You felt a sense of belonging here, as if this was a place where you could truly be yourself. You watched as the performers went about their business, preparing for their next show.

Suddenly, tears began streaming down your face. You knew why you were here, and the thought of it made your heart ache. You were here to break up with Jimmy Darling, the man you loved. You knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn't make it any easier.

You continued to walk, wiping your tears away as you headed towards Jimmy's trailer. When you got there, you opened the door and stepped inside. You could see the sadness and concern in Jimmy's eyes as he looked at you, and you knew he had been expecting this. Without a word, you walked into his arms and burst into tears.

You both stood there for a long time, neither of you saying a word. Finally, when you had both calmed down, Jimmy gently kissed your forehead and said, "It's okay. I'll be here for you, always."

You nodded and kissed him back. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes, your heart aching and your soul drained from the tragedy. You took a deep breath, fighting against the waves of emotion that were rising up in you.

"I know this is hard. I would have loved to be with you, Jimmy. But my reality has changed and I need to protect what I have. I have three younger brothers and I am all they have. I'm sorry, but I can't stay."

Jimmy could see the sorrow in your eyes and he could feel it radiating from you in waves. He had grown to love you and he wanted you to stay. He wanted to be with you and he wanted to be the protector you and your brothers needed.

But he knew it was impossible. Despite the love he felt, he understood that you had to leave. With a heavy heart he nodded. You gave him a sad smile and squeezed his hand before releasing it. "I’m engaged to a man, Vincent Anderson. His parents have money and we will move to Michigan to start a new life." You said.

Jimmy furrowed his brow and shook his head, "I won't let you go, Y/N. I want to be with you. I can help provide for you." But even as he said it, he knew it was a vain attempt.

You smiled sadly again and shook your head. "I'm so sorry. But this is the only way. I must protect my brothers and for that…I must go." You knew it was the right thing to do, but it was still the hardest thing you had ever done. You stepped back, wiping away your tears, and said, "I'll always love you, Jimmy." With that you turned and left, leaving Jimmy heartbroken.

The car started and the ride began. You looked out the window, watching the sights of Jupiter passing by. You remembered the days you spent with your family, walking around town and collecting seashells at the beach. You remembered the time you spent with Jimmy, trying to make a life together despite the odds you faced. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you realized you were leaving it all behind.

Vincent noticed your tears and reached out to touch your arm. "It's alright," he said, trying to comfort you. He gave you a reassuring smile, but it did nothing to stop your sorrow. You looked away, out the window again, and tried to blink away the tears.

The car pulled away from Jupiter and you took one last look, your eyes taking in every detail of the town you had called home for so long. You remembered the good times and the bad, the laughter and the tears, and the people you had loved and lost.

As the miles passed by and the town faded into the distance, you could no longer hold back your tears. You sobbed quietly, your heart aching with the pain of leaving everything you knew behind. Vincent pulled you close and held you, trying to give you some comfort.

The car drove on, and eventually the town of Jupiter was just a distant memory. You turned your face towards the future, as you and Vincent began their life together.

You shuffled around the flea market, your grandchildren in tow. Vincent, Kai, and Winter were already running around, searching for treasures in the bustling market. You watched fondly as the three kids explored, excitedly picking up trinkets and showing them to each other. You smiled as they moved from stall to stall, their enthusiasm infectious.

As they got further away, you took a moment to take in your surroundings. The flea market was filled with people of all ages, searching for deals and haggling for better prices. You took a deep breath and took in the sights and smells of the market. You had smiled to yourself, happy to be spending time with your grandchildren. You thought back to when they were just babies, and how quickly they had grown.

You were looking for a particular item, but you hadn't been able to find it yet. You paused at a stall filled with old photographs, and your eyes widened when you saw the one of Jupiter.

You slowly reached out and picked it up, your hand trembling slightly. You remembered that place so well, the rolling hills and the endless blue sky. You remembered the people, too, and as you flipped through the photos one in particular caught your eye. It was a picture of you and Jimmy, he was sitting with his arm around you.

You smiled fondly at the memory. He had been your first love, and even though you had ended things to protect your family, you had never forgotten him.

As you were turning the photograph over, an inscription had been made in pencil

"My dearest,

I know things between us have been difficult lately, but I still love you. I know I have made mistakes, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

I know I can't fix the pain I've caused you, but I want you to know that I care deeply about you and think about you every day. I can't imagine my life without you and I still love you with all my heart.

Whatever happens, know that I am here for you and I will always love you.

Here's to you forever, Jim.”

You turned to your grandkids with tears in your eyes. They were watching you intently.

"This was my hometown," you said softly. "It was a beautiful place and I had some wonderful memories there."

The kids were silent, but they seemed to understand. You smiled and tucked the photo away in your purse. Then, you took each of the kids' hands in your own and said, "Come on, let's go home."

As you drove back home, you felt a sense of peace. You had taken the first step towards a new beginning, and you were determined to make the most of it. You may have left behind your first love, but you had gained something much more valuable. You had gained the love of your own family, and that was something that no one could ever take away.

#ahs #american horror story #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #american horror story imagine #american horror story imagines #ahs freakshow #american horror story freakshow #jimmy darling #jimmy darling x reader #ethel darling #elsa mars #jessica lange #evan peters #kai anderson #winter anderson #vincent anderson #ahs cult #american horror story cult

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unexceptional-broken · 3 years ago

Photo

— till forever ends ( jb, sr, rb )

#ii. ( ic ) — fc #iii. ( steve ) — we'll tell our stories on these walls #iii. ( jimmy ) — we have the right to call this home #iii. ( steve ; jimmy ; becky ) — the great depression #edits by ellie; beats by dre #(rebloggable if you love becky)

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the-winter-smoulder · 4 years ago

Text

What The Hell...

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Series Word Count: 884

Warnings: Language! Mentions of Death, Panic Attack, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angsty Goodness

Seriously... What the HELL?!

Since the defeat of Thanos, nothing has really been the same, especially not for Sam and Bucky.

Read Chapter 2 Here

Chapter 3: Who The Hell Is Jimmy?

As Bruce closed the door to Y/n’s room, Bucky took one look in her window to see she was asleep again.

“I gave her a sedative. What did you say to her? She was hysterical after you left!”

“I honestly didn’t say anything, Bruce. It’s like she can’t look at me, but she wants to. I feel like I know her, but I’ve never met her. I think she feels it too. I must remind her of someone, but not me.”

“I’d say so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? And who the hell is Jimmy?”

“Honestly, Bucky... it would be better coming from her.”

“Well, I can't ask her now, can I?!”

“I know. I’m sorry. She wants to tell you herself. Just go back to your room and try to get some sleep. She’s going to be out for a while, Bucky. She needs it.”

Bruce walked away, leaving Bucky to make his decision – go back to his room, or wait for Y/n to wake up. As he looked through the window at her sleeping form, he knew what he had to do. He sighed heavily, opened the door quietly, and stepped through the threshold, ready to take his place back in “his” chair by her side.

-----💥🌀💥🌀💥🌀💥🌀💥🌀💥🌀-----

Hours later, Y/n rolled over and opened her eyes to see Bucky asleep on the chair to her left. A smile crept across her face as she heard the faint sound of a snore push past his lips.

Oh – those lips... those perfect pink lips like an island in a sea of stubble. She loved those lips; that stubble. And those perfect blue eyes surrounded by those long, dark lashes. His eyes!

“Oh, shit!” she whispered.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

Y/n laughed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that you look so much like him.”

“Jimmy?” he asked, sitting up, cracking his neck.

“Yes,” she replied sadly, “I know you’re not him.”

“Y/n, I hate to ask, but who is Jimmy?”

“Was,” she started, “Who was Jimmy.”

“Sorry, I know it may be painful, but...”

“You talked to Clint? You know about Vormir?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know I loved him... more than anything or anyone,” she hung her head low.

“Yes.”

“He was my fiancé. His name was James Buchanan Barnes III,” she locked eyes with Bucky, “He was... your grandson.”

Bucky’s heart stopped. He didn’t know what to say or do. He shook his head slightly, and tilted it to the side, saying, “What? How?”

“In my timeline, you came back from the war, unscathed,” she said, eyes flitting over his metal arm. “You never fell from the train. You came home, married a beautiful red-head named Dot. You had a family – lived your dream life right next door to your best friend and his best gal. A story I heard from you over a dozen times in my lifetime.”

Bucky stared at Y/n, eyes narrowed and beginning to brim with tears. “You’ve lost everything, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“How did it happen? How did he...” Bucky trailed off.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Y/n asked.

“If you’re willing to tell me, yes.”

Y/n sighed, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She’s cried enough for a lifetime, what’s a few more tears?

“It happened six months ago. When Tony realized what was happening with Hydra, we made a plan to find and scatter as many stones as we could.”

“You worked with Tony?”

“I am an Avenger. ‘Earth’s mightiest heroes’ as he called us.”

“You have powers?”

“I’m enhanced. Jimmy was too. You still got the serum in Germany. It got passed on genetically.”

“I see,” Bucky said quietly, feeling guilty for something he technically didn’t do.

“Anyway, Gamora knew where the soul stone was. Not knowing much about it, other than the fact that it’s the most difficult to get to, we decided to go after it. The plan was to get the stone, and get it to another timeline, figuring it would be impossible for Hydra or Thanos to track it.

“Jimmy and I volunteered, figuring it would be a simple extraction. Never have we been so wrong in our lives. When we realized what had to be done, we talked it out. We could leave without it, after all, it would be impossible for them to get it. We would leave it where it was, and go after a different stone,” Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes closed.

“Jimmy agreed. He said, ‘of course, my love. I could never live without you. I love you too much.’ He looked deep into my eyes – I could see his soul, Bucky. Before I could do anything, he kissed me, threw me to the ground, and ran into the belly of the beast. He... he just... jumped...”

Bucky was sitting on the bed at this point. He grabbed Y/n’s hand and wiped the tears from her cheek.

“I saw his soul... then it was gone. He was gone,” Y/n cried.

“He was stupid,” Bucky whispered.

“He was brave,” Y/n replied, “And a little stupid. That’s why I loved him. His courage, his arrogance, all of him,” she sobbed. “He was... my home.”

Bucky held her as they cried, mourning the loss that cut so deep.

Chapter 4

-----💥🌀💥🌀💥🌀💥🌀💥🌀💥🌀-----

Tag List

@sebastiansqueen

@katiekate23

@chipilerendi

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x y/n #bucky x fem!reader

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years ago

Text

notable moments from The Ice Man Job

leverage 2.08

Hardison: Jim Kerrity III. He took over Kerrity Diamonds four years ago after his old man retired, and in that small amount of time, he drove the business straight into the ground by living way beyond his means.

(Parker is restless on the couch and Eliot pushes her away from him)

Hardison: I'm talkin' drugs, booze, women.

(Parker continues to moves restlessly)

Hardison: According to his credit card statements... What? Why? What are you doin'?

Parker: What?

Eliot: What?

Parker: What?

Eliot: It's distracting.

Parker: The couch is feeling a little empty.

Nate: Eliot, will you please sit next to Parker.

Eliot: No, I'm sittin' here now.

Nate: Guys, guys. We all miss Sophie. I, we just have to adapt.

Hardison: I got this. Move, go.

(Hardison sits next to Parker on the couch)

Hardison: You happy? (picks up keyboard)

parker can’t get comfortable because she misses sophie. she’s never had friends/close family before (minus archie but that’s irrelevant) and sophie was one of her people and she doesn’t know how to cope properly when she loses them

the ot3 sitting together as they should

- - - - -

Nate: You know what, the thing about this that people don't understand is insurance fraud, it's a lot of red tape, and with a big claim like this, it'll take a year before Kerrity sees any money, and the bill collectors are not gonna wait around. He's gotta fence the diamonds.

Parker: He can't. (grabs the remote and changes the monitors)

Eliot: What do you mean?

Parker: His diamonds are GIA certified, VVS clarity, all about two carats.

Hardison: That's my clicker.

Parker: Who stole the Polar Star? (raises her hand) Who stole the Gem of Gibraltar? Damiani raid? Me. I know diamonds, and our bad guy can't fence those diamonds because stones that size have an ID number laser-inscribed on them.

Eliot: So it’s like a stolen car. Gotta clean the VIN before you can sell 'em.

Nate: How do you get that ID number off?

Parker: With a special laser. But only three guys can do it. Antwerp, Dubai, Tel Aviv

SHE KNOWS HER DIAMONDS

- - - - -

[Flashback]

Parker: Hi.

Man: Hello.

Parker: Buy me a drink?

Man: You got it. (gestures to the bartender and puts his hand on Parker’s knee) So?

(Parker grabs his fingers and breaks them, then picks up a briefcase and hits him in the chest before heading away, almost falling)

we LOVE to see parker not tolerating slimy men and hurting them when they touch her

- - - - -

Parker: Yeah, I'll be fine.

(later Parker is crouched behind the counter talking on the phone)

Parker: I will not be fine. I stabbed that guy with a fork.

[London Bar]

Sophie: Parker, Parker, relax. It's fine. Listen. Go to Nate's cupboard and you're gonna find a sexy little mini-dress and my emergency Jimmy Choos.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Jimmy who? You have a body in Nate's closet? (she looks excited)

[London Bar]

Sophie: Shoes, Parker. Didn't I teach you any...? All right, listen. This is the important bit. Do you still have the Rosalind Diamond you stole in Perth?

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Yes.

[London Bar]

Sophie: Wear it. The diamond will speak for you. You won't have to say a word. This is the key to the grift. You just trust the character. Say nothing, trust the diamond.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: I can do that. Don't tell Nate I called.

[London Bar]

Sophie: I won't.

- - - - -

bruh parker is SO HOT in that blue dress with her diamond that she stole I’m-

- - - - -

Hardison: All right. Lay the arms down, brother. He's cool.

(Eliot lets Kerrity go)

Hardison: You have to excuse my bodyguard. He's touchy. It's 'cause he's a mute.

eliot looks ready to beat hardison’s ass for a hot second

also I LOVE eliot’s little braids in his hair

- - - - -

Kerrity: What kind of thief calls himself a thief?

Hardison: An uncatchable one with a brilliant reputation. You've seen my work in Perth. The Polar Star? Nicked it. The Gem of Gibraltar? Nicked it. The Damiani raid? Distraction while I nicked everything in the vault next door. Big stones, trust me.

(behind Hardison, Parker is pacing angrily)

eliot gives her a Look™ when she looks like she’s going to interrupt hardison because he KNOWS how pissed she is

- - - - -

(Parker is at the kitchen bar, locks and picks spread out in front of her. She’s focused on picking a lock)

Eliot: Ice Man?

Hardison: Hey, I put a lot of work into that character. No, no. No, I bought new clothes, ugly as hell, too.

Eliot: This always happens when you go on the grift, Hardison.

Hardison (*): I put stories on the website.

Eliot: You go too big.

Parker: Sophie told me to say as little as possible, let the character do the work.

Nate: When did, uh, Sophie say that?

Parker: A long time ago. Maybe last Christmas. I don't even think it was Sophie.

Nate: I'm gonna go put more pressure on Kerrity. I want you guys to be on the clear-out. Ice Man, play it cool. That's just an awful, awful name.

Hardison: Genius.

Eliot: See?

Hardison: It's genius.

Eliot: When you get in too deep on this, I ain't bailin' your ass out.

Hardison: I don't need you to bail me out. I'm the Ice Man.

Eliot: Not. Gonna. Help

parker picks locks when she’s upset/annoyed/distressed and I love that continuity for her in the show

also eliot you buffoon you’ll always help hardison you’re fooling literally no one

- - - - -

Guard: There's a Mr. Sterling here from the insurance company.

LMFAO NATE YOU DIDNT

- - - - -

Eliot (on phone): I know. He's driving me crazy. How, huh? I'm backup, they can't rely on me. All right, all right. Hey, thanks. Don't tell Nate I called.

Parker: Who was that?

Eliot: Cable company

eliot is more upset than anything because he’s been put into a position where he can’t protect them as well. THATS what he’s mad enough about to call sophie about it.

also this picture meme describes the situation perfectly

- - - - -

Eliot: Whoa! Whoa! What are you people doin' here?!

Woman: We work here. Who are you?

Parker: We're with OSHA.

Eliot: We issued a class-one evacuation notice for this facility effective 24 hours ago.

Parker: This place is on lockdown for chemical exposure.

Eliot: Nobody read the memo?

Parker: Did nobody read the memo?! You, cough!

(Parker holds a pad to the woman’s mouth and she coughs into it)

Woman: What chemical?

Eliot: Given the set-up for this place, it could be a matrix of solid phase sulfates, uh, nitrates.

(Parker shows a blackened pad to the woman)

Woman: That's inside me?

Eliot: Honey, your lungs are a parking lot, sweetheart.

Parker: And in that parking lot, the diagonal lines are painted with poison.

(parker turns and looks at eliot, who shakes his head slightly in exasperation)

Eliot: People, move towards the door, all right?

Parker: Do not inhale unless you are 50 feet from the entrance. Yeah.

(all the workers leave the room)

eliot just sighing at parker’s antics is beautiful

- - - - -

Nate: All right, nice work, guys. Tomorrow, when he shows up with the diamonds, the state police will be there.

[Exterior Street]

Eliot: Why, so they can arrest Hardison's ego?

Hardison: Be cool, baby. Ice cool. Hey, who wants to go for a spin?

Eliot: Can't believe you rented a Ferrari.

Hardison: Rented?

Parker: I'll get a ride home with Eliot.

(Eliot and Parker move away and get into his truck before driving away)

Hardison: Y'all are just jealous. Oh, they just jealous, baby. Don't worry about that. Look at ya. Lookin' better than green-

okay so now we know hardison in canon owns a red ferrari convertible

- - - - -

Hardison (makes call): Yeah, yeah. Sheila, not makin' it in tonight. Yeah, work thing. Bugger all.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: Hardison? Are you calling me in character?

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: I told you, butternut. It's work. I can't get out of it.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: What accent is that? Ooh. Ooh, you've been nabbed.

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: Afraid so.

Sophie: Is it the mark?

Hardison: No. No, muffin, no.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: It's the goons. You oversold the part.

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: You fell into the trap of the overzealous henchman.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: Don't worry. It happens all the time. As long as they're not Russians.

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: It's gonna be a bit of a problem.

Sophie: It's the Russians? I'm gonna have to phone Nate.

Hardison: Uh, leave it off, crumpet.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: No, no, no, listen. Hardison—

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: --you cannot talk your way out of Russians.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: I mean, you can stall them maybe for a bit, but whatever you do--

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: --do not tell them you can do anything else. (hangs up)

Hardison: Smooches. Love her. (puts down phone)

- - - - -

Eliot: I had courtside seats, man. Tell Hardison if he makes it out alive, I'm gonna snap him in half.

Nate: Uh, Eliot says hi.

again, eliot, you ain’t foolin no one

- - - - -

parker sitting on the dining table,,, I love it when she perches herself on things

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a checkered/white plaid shirt with flowers on it it’s adorable

- - - - -

(Kerrity is placing a necklace on a woman’s neck)

Kerrity: Wow, that looks beautiful. Three hundred thousand dollars on your neck. (Nate knocks on the door) Oh. Amy, I'm gonna meet you at the bar, sweetie, OK? You'll earn that later. Let's go. Excellent. This had better be important.

y’all nasty

- - - - -

we love to see eliot knocking people out with one punch

+ him apologizing to the unconscious guard after

- - - - -

(Parker lays a magnetic strip over the two halves of the sensor)

Parker: This will hold them together.

Eliot (hands her a screwdriver): Electric's faster.

Parker: Vibrations will set off the seismic sensor.

(Eliot leaves the vault as Parker moves the sensors to one side and replaces them with false sensors. She then works on getting the combination)

- - - - -

Eliot buzzes Hardison in. Hardison fakes punching Eliot, who goes down. Hardison continues to fake beating Eliot up)

Eliot: Next time, I'm playing the thief.

Hardison: I'd like to hear you do an accent.

Eliot: I'd like to hear you do an accent.

Hardison: I went to Second City in Chicago.

(outside the Russian and his men watch Hardison beating Eliot)

[Vault]

(Parker writes the combination to the vault on the handle in what looks like invisible ink)

Eliot: When’d you find time between that and karate at the Y?

Hardison: You know what? Just shut up.

Parker: Shut up, guys

chaotic ot3

- - - - -

(Parker hangs on to the vault door as it swings shut, then jumps to an overhead pipe)

[Kerrity Diamonds]

(Eliot watches Parker move across the vault in a security monitor)

Eliot: Stuck it

this is cute okay, his proud lil face

- - - - -

hardison also carries a black light on his keychain ???

- - - - -

I’m sorry, I’m but a simple wlw and parker hanging upside down doing her thing is beautiful

- - - - -

[Flashback]

Hardison: Shh! Do you hear that? Diamond Jim's comin' down here. You go and stop him while I nick the diamonds.

(the Russian and his men turn to the vault doorway. Hardison backs away. Parker steps out of one of the larger boxes and pulls Hardison into it)

Hardison: Thank you, and I mean thank you, but how are we gettin' out of here?

(Parker pulls out some sort of electronic device)

Hardison: What is that?

Parker: Shh! Pull your arms in.

(the device beeps as Parker enters a code. After a moment, an explosion collapses the floor beneath them and they fall into the tunnels below where Eliot helps Parker to her feet)

Eliot: Det cord.

eliot helping them off the ground? domestic ot3

- - - - -

Eliot: What are you smilin' at? You still screwed it up.

Hardison: I'm smiling 'cause you said if I got in trouble, you wouldn't help me.

Eliot: Parker made me.

Parker: No, I didn't.

Hardison: Come on, man. Let's hug it out.

Eliot: I'm not huggin' it out, Ice Man.

Hardison: Just hug it... Just a little man love.

(Hardison puts his arm around Eliot’s shoulders. Eliot tries to push him away)

Eliot: I'm not huggin' it out with you. No...

Hardison (stands to move closer to Eliot): It’s not—

Eliot: Sit down in your stool.

Hardison: Don't make this awkward.

Eliot: What are you doin', man?

Hardison: This is uncomfortable now.

(Hardison lays his head on Eliot’s shoulder as Eliot continues to try and push him away)

Hardison: Get in the pits.

Eliot: I'm gonna break your frickin’ arm.

parker shuts eliot down immediately because eliot needs to step up for his actions

ALSO, ELIOT LEANED HIS FOREHEAD IN FOR ONE (1) SECOND. HE TOTALLY SECRETLY LOVED IT

also this meme sums up the entire episode

* sorry the script said something wrong and I don’t feel like going back to check lol

#leverage #leverage 2.08 #leverage 2x08 #the ice man job #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

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evildoe-r · 4 years ago

Text

sunstroke (bif x derby)

word count: 3,434

rating: T

main characters: bif taylor, derby harrington

spoilers for video game: yes (Dishonorable Fight and Complete Mayhem)

...now he had thrust his apology back into his hands. Bif was one of the few he could not freely take sincerity from, that was his own mistake, and one he just made deliberately. Presently, he felt sickening remorse pooling inside of him, steadily drowning him.

warning; very long post

It was a year nearing its lively prime stretching across dusty, strange Bullworth. The evening crept and called the fading light that spread its warm hue across the rooftops and glistened on uncertain waters. Bif made his way through the subdued small town, to return to his dorm at the Academy after he and his friends spent the day at the gym having sparring matches, choosing to spend the penultimate day of school there instead of waste it at Miss Peters’ traditionally mind numbing school play that took place at the end of each academic year. They’d all had a much better time in their gym - all of them except for the absent Derby, who he rarely saw anymore, even around the Harrington House. Derby, who once would let him walk alongside him as his right hand man. He couldn’t tell if he was avoiding him or it was simply coincidence - a coincidence that occurred directly after he had lost a boxing match to none other than new kid Jimmy Hopkins, and disgraced the Preps’ standing within the school hierarchy.

He hated losing, but he hated the confusion that had followed even more, the vague insights and cues into Derby's fluctuating relationship with him on the rare occasion he did see him around. It was stupid to dwell on this, he knew it. But no matter how much he pushed aside the thought that Derby somehow hated him, it would creep up on him in the school hallways, in the classes he hadn't ditched, before he slept, always circling back to him.

He had lingered around in the gym longer than the others. Somehow, even after the usual high he got from defeating an opponent in a sparring match, today his movements as he showered and dressed back into his uniform had been slow and his thoughts were cloudy. On the morning after tomorrow's summer day of suspended classes, they would all return home, far away from Bullworth Academy.

Although the day had been hot, the evening lent a cool breeze which had given him some relief. Even after a cold shower, Bif felt too warm. His hair was still damp and he slicked a hand through it as he walked along the path looking out onto the sea. He could sense the day's sickening heat slowly retreating, which he was grateful for. He would have welcomed the warmth any other time, but all week his head swam with thoughts that made him almost weary. As he made his way toward the bridge, a pack of Greasers raced past him on their bikes, turning toward New Coventry and paying him no mind. Looking straight ahead, he narrowed his eyes against the waning sunlight. He heard their voices before he spotted them. It was Justin and Chad several feet in front of him, their backs turned to him, speaking excitedly and louder than usual. Bif almost halted in his path as he suddenly recognised that unbearably familiar voice mingling with theirs.

Derby.

He forced himself to continue walking as normal. Lighthearted laughter erupted from them before he heard Derby’s courteous parting dismissal as the other two departed towards the direction of the Academy.

Shit.

Derby was left there, standing uphill in front of the setting sun like a great shadow. He watched Bif carefully, and now, Bif had no choice but to meet him and his gaze, always razor sharp.

Derby was the first to speak.

“Bif.”

“Hey,” Bif tried.

As he approached Derby, he couldn’t help but notice how he observed him, studied him so closely. Bif knew that Derby had seen him before he realised he was there, just as he saw everything. You didn’t just escape Derby’s notice.

“Thought you’d be back at the House by now,” Derby said.

“Well, yeah, I just got held up,” Bif replied, making an attempt for his voice to remain neutral. But he was scared, excited, anxious. He hadn't realised how much he had anticipated this, whether it was to confront him or to reconcile with him. He only wanted for things to return to what was supposed to be normal.

But now, Derby’s voice was calm, slightly softer than usual. It eased him a little. Maybe he didn't hate him after all.

Derby watched his taller friend’s nervous hand run through his hair. The reddish brown strands were the color of fire in the last reach of the small town sunlight.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. Bif’s green eyes widened a little in surprise at the question.

“Uh, It’s nothing, Derby,” he finally said.

"You seem a bit on edge," Derby observed.

"Oh, boxing and all that. Parker gave me a hard time. But I won anyway, you know."

Derby offered an acknowledging nod before changing the subject. “Well, I don’t plan on going back to the school grounds for another while.” He gazed out towards the sea, and then turned expectantly onto Bif, awaiting a response.

"I guess I didn't either," his friend admitted. “I’ve had enough of that place right now.”

“Walk with me, then?” Derby straightened the clean white collar of his shirt.

“Sure.”

It was quiet. The evening had completely settled upon the town, the sky a gradient of bright pink and a moody blue. Familiar lighthouse beams shone against the darkening horizon. The sound of the sea relaxed him, always inviting him to reminisce about his hazy days as a very young child, on holidays with his family to otherworldly time zones, where he would run on mystical white beaches while his father’s voice commanded him to behave, and so he did. But now, the sky was a soft bluish purple, and the quiet beach was dark and lulling and his friend was right beside him.

As they walked in silence together, Derby watched Bif, noting his furrowed brow, his mind seemingly unsettled. “Shall we walk down the pier?” he suggested, making his way down the wooden surface perpendicular to their path. Bif was at his elbow and slowly followed him down, his familiar movements sure and steady as his body, yet his face was always an open book. As the sun’s last rays leapt above the buildings, Derby knew he must be anticipating something, but he did not speak.

III

Derby began to hum a slow, sonorous tune that he could not recognise. This was almost like old times. Derby by his side as they walked through Old Bullworth Vale, then down to the beach, spending the early summer days during free periods there, as he convinced Derby to go diving into the cool waters with him and swim to the lighthouses and back.

They were alone here, besides a weary eyed middle aged man who could have been thirty five or fifty, in a slightly tatty grey suit who was leaning casually against the ledge looking down into the dark waters below them.

“Man, don’t do it!” Derby called with a grin. The stranger turned to them, and spat, before turning and walking away as he lit a cigarette.

“I’ve seen that guy before,” Bif insisted. “Comes around here a lot, tries to go where it's quiet."

“Then it’s his unlucky day,” Derby smiled, as they watched the man depart. Despite himself, Bif laughed with him, his previous anxieties lapsing.

“Hey, can you believe Miss Peters had that dumb school play even with everything that happened?” Bif had suddenly felt lighter, and was in the mood for banter.

“Everyone made quite the mess of the school, that’s true,” Derby agreed, “But the auditorium seemed virtually untouched. I didn’t even see any renovations taking place there. I guess nobody bothered with it.

“You know, when father heard what happened he wasn't happy at all. He searched for a prestigious school worthy enough for his investment and then all hell breaks loose." He shook his head in disapproval.

“He’s considering transferring me somewhere else for my last academic year,” Derby confided.

“Yeah?” Bif was oddly disheartened. “I thought your dad was busy with y'know, stuff.” Derby would occasionally mention his dad and how his business was fairing, but truthfully, Bif never had the patience nor the interest to hear it all out.

“He is. He really doesn’t have time for all this,” he agreed. "But my God, what a state the school was in afterwards..."

“Yeah, the place really turned into a total dumpster fire after Hopkins beat your-”

A look of irritation flickered over Derby’s face and Bif stopped short. “Uh, yeah, you know,” he said awkwardly, feigning an itch on his neck. He tried to think of something witty, but his head felt confused and muddled again. With nothing more to say, their conversation dissolved into silence, and they watched the waves in the distance for a while. The islands ahead were sharp shadows, only their dark outlines visible in the late evening light.

It was certainly like old times, he thought. Nonetheless, something felt misplaced, wrong, and he was unable to focus.

“Can we talk about it, Derby?” He was venturing blind into a conflict, he could feel it, but he had to try. “I don’t think I gotta explain what I mean.” He braced himself for surprise or even offense from his friend, but his face remained impassive.

“I’m actually not sure what you mean.”

It was Bif’s turn to look annoyed. Reigning in his sudden anger, he found himself raising his voice more than intended. “You ignored me for ages, and now you’re acting as if everything’s normal.”

Derby’s neutrality stubbornly asserted itself as he spoke. “There is nothing out of the ordinary here, Bif.”

“Were you mad after I lost to Jimmy?” Bif demanded.

“We have nothing to talk about regarding this matter, I mean it.”

“But you were avoiding me! You avoided me for weeks, Derby!” he said desperately.

“I don’t want to discuss this now-”

“Well I do!”

“Of course I was angry, Bif,” came the reply, and his mask of nonchalance had disappeared.

“I don’t need to explain why, you know that quite well. Can we drop it now?” the corners of his mouth quivered slightly and his voice rose and fell a little as if he couldn’t decide whether to be angry or not.

Bif gave an exasperated sigh as he dragged his hands down his face. Didn’t he realise the guilt he felt after he lost? He disgraced himself, and worse, Derby Harrington. He was one of his closest friends, yet he was unreachable all the same. You lost to him too, Derby, don't you remember?!

Derby glared at him, jaw clenched. Those sharp eyes, and now he’s finally cutting. “You want me to say I lost too, is that it, Bif?”

There it is, and just how had he figured? It seemed like he could always see what was swimming past the surface, and sometimes, with Derby, he didn’t know himself. Always so precise, never anything less. He spoke of loss, and now he'd taken every word from him.

Derby recalled that day at the gym too well. Bif lying there, barely conscious, as Hopkins taunted them. It was undeniably embarrassing, and Bif would never know the sensation of anger and betrayal that had struck him afterwards. Not just Bif, but his supposed friends too, humiliated by an apparent nobody, suddenly crowned King. Bif seemed taken aback by his question, and he was unsure if he meant it rhetorically or not. He decided to allow him to feel shaken a moment, before he carried on. He needed to make him understand.

“Have you ever thought about how the situation affected me, Bif? Just once?”

Bif was angry, that much was too obvious, but his poise was diminished, almost giving way. He was more than angry, he was upset.

“That’s all I’ve been thinking about since that day, Derby,” he said, quietly this time. Suddenly, he turned away. Derby could hear the waves again for a brief moment, slow and rhythmic, distinctly timed. Bif seemed to focus on an object in the distance before he exhaled loudly and whirled to face Derby again.

"Why does any of this matter anyway? It was just a stupid boxing match!"

"You think this is about boxing? Oh, you're so naive, Bif. " Derby was indignant.

"Then what is it about?" Bif pressed him. “You just love patronizing me, I know you do.”

“Patronizing? Did you just learn that word from English class yesterday?”

"Seriously? Whatever, you're too important to tell me anyways. Keep it to yourself, I don’t care."

He had avoided Bif in his shame, he knew that much. He would not ask questions about his whereabouts to other Preps, but he had picked up on his altered emotional state whenever he saw him, which he would insist to himself was a lesson of sorts, a justified consequence of his own failure. His friends had left him disgusted then, most of all Bif, who seemed to guard his champion title so fiercely beforehand. Bif, who he slowly and so carefully placed his shaky trust into.

“So you’re not even gotta admit you pretended I didn’t exist, right?” Bif looked like he found it impossible to stay still. His fists were clenched, and he seemed almost breathless.

“I would never admit something that wasn’t true.” But it is true, he knows.

“Fuck you, Derby.”

Derby almost flinched. His friend’s venom had left him witless, and he wanted to reply with equal scorn, but the rebuttal would not come.

“And guess what, maybe I didn’t wanna see your face either, Derby.”

“Good. I was getting pretty sick of you, you know.”

He rued his words as soon as they left him, and he averted his gaze. Bif was hurt by this, he knew, and this time, there was no reply, no hostility. A bitter quiet fell on them.

“I didn’t mean that truly, Bif. You know that.”

I’m sorry.

“Yeah.”

"Look, I'm sorry."

Bif voiced his apology like a tired surrender. Derby had never seen him like this. Not even on that day at the gym. There was a terrible vulnerability about the person who stood in front of him.

"Don't say sorry to me, Bif."

"I just felt like I owed you-"

"Don’t." he told him. “Don’t apologise.”

“Then what the hell, Derby?” His annoyance was tinged with relief, appearing somewhat yielding, which Derby was grateful for, as an unexpected tiredness grabbed him. For once, he felt out of control of the unraveling before him. He was being hurled off the tracks and he was finding it hard to steer them both into his direction. He had wanted to see Bif today, take in the reassuring presence he gave him, which became so familiar to him over these past few years. They’d argued, and now he had thrust his apology back into his hands. Bif was one of the few he could not freely take sincerity from, that was his own mistake, and one he just made deliberately. Presently, he felt sickening remorse pooling inside of him, steadily drowning him.

He'd fought with Derby before, but it was usually over something stupid.

"My dad is more important than your dad!" He'd jokingly taunted one night in a slightly drunken daze, and Bif, also in a liquor induced stupor had gotten angrier than he'd wanted to be.

Derby had turned away from him and Bif said nothing for some time. It was a similar feeling to the tiresome end of a gruelling fistfight, but he was unsure whether he had won or lost this time. Bif felt lighter now, but consequently emptier too.

"Bif," Derby began slowly, "I did wrong you. It was a mistake on my part."

His admission was unexpected, for sure, and he found himself stricken. He would have felt less surprised if Derby had suddenly burst into awful, messy tears.

"God, Derby, you weird me out. I’ve known you for years, but you still confuse me."

He felt uneasy now, and he wished this would end. Derby turned, and Bif expected another disagreement to ensue, but there was none.

"Look, It's fine, Derby. I mean, I guess it’s not fine, but we don't have to bring it up anymore." I'm exhausted. "Let's just forget this, for now."

Derby looked tired too, for once.

“Okay, Bif.”

He's as shaken as I am, he realised.

“Let’s start to head back. It’s late. If you have any more gripes about me, you can tell me directly on the way.”

At least he could retain his sense of humor.

But it really was late, Bif realised. The stars were coming out, and the town’s usual toll had trailed off into silence, save for the occasional car rumbling through the street. They made their way wordlessly across the pier, turning toward the Academy. He almost hated Derby that night, yet he still he wanted him by his side, and despite his fatigue, he wouldn’t have minded staying there a while longer with him.

There was a peaceful air following them as they traveled to the place they’d had to call home for the school year. A yellow crescent moon was suspended in the cloudless dark sky. The night was warm, and still young. They would arrive well before midnight anyways, and when they reached the Academy, they knew it was past curfew, but Derby had made sure early on in the year that they would go unnoticed by the displeased prefects who wandered the school grounds with torches at night, looking for troublemakers. After all, they loved money, same as everyone else. And besides, it seemed pointless to enforce a curfew on the second last day of school. When they entered the house, the lights were dimmed and it was mostly quiet, except for the muffled sound of footsteps on one of the top floors. They started to make their way upstairs and through a carpeted hallway decorated with paintings and houseplants. Bif stopped suddenly.

“Wait, Derby, are you really leaving Bullworth?”

He eyed Bif for a moment before answering. “I certainly hope not. How am I going to find so many lackeys who are willing to fight for me in a new school in so little time?” he said, looking at Bif, a laugh breaking out of his neutral expression, and Bif let out a chortle.

“Man, hadn��t thought of that,”

They stood there in the faint lamplight, so mellow it made him slightly dizzy.

“I gotta go to bed, have an important day of doing nothing tomorrow,” Bif said. As Derby laughed, he looked younger, and for a brief second he was the person who would sneak out of dinner parties with him as a lark and explore the old, stately home they’d both been confined in for the evening, finding dubious locked doors and dusty basements.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Bif,” he said, laying a hand on his arm, suddenly pausing. He could feel his warmth through his cotton shirt. He realised how much he had sweated that evening in the summer heat, but either Derby didn’t care or didn’t pay any attention. A sensation in his chest exulted, unsettled him. There was the flicker of longing he’d experienced through the years, now plain and clear as day, and not so uncertain as it used to be. Derby seemed to linger there for a second, lifting his ambiguous gaze to his own eyes, keeping it there, making him restless, but in that moment, Derby began to back off into his room. And when he tore his hand away, Bif almost objected, calling his name and telling him to wait. Derby just stood there in anticipation, and when Bif asked if he was okay, he replied in that affected tone that Bif had always hated, asking why he shouldn’t be. Bif just shrugged his shoulders, and Derby then hastily bid him goodbye, retreating into his room. The door clicked shut, leaving him there.

When he finally went to bed, his frustration had begun to stir among his fatigue and he wondered if he was wrong to think he might fall asleep that night. At one point, the heat in his room was stifling, and he leapt up from his bed and threw open the windows. When he was finally able to close his eyes, he thought of Derby, the sea and its lighthouses, his wanting and his hurt, and the mess he’d thrown himself into. One more day and they’d be apart, and now he wished that he’d caught Derby’s arm before he’d made himself scarce that night.

______________________________________________________________

Notes

Hey, If you read the full thing, I greatly appreciate it! This was quite difficult to write at times because the characters of Bif and Derby were not given so much nuance in the game itself, so it was quite challenging to write a story that delves into their psyche and way of thinking. I wrote this with the intention of exploring their individual characters and feelings toward each other a bit further, especially after the events of the Dishonorable Fight and Complete Mayhem missions. The interactions and the implications of their relationship dynamic are quite interesting to me. Please feel free to tell me what you thought, and once again, thank you for reading!

-A

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aaronmaurer · 4 years ago

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TV I Liked in 2020

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

Was there ever a year more unpredictably tailor-made for peak TV than 2020? Lockdowns/quarantines/stay-at-home orders meant a lot more time at home and the occasion to check out new and old favorites. (I recognize that if you’re lucky enough to have kids or roommates or a S.O., your amount of actual downtime may have been wildly different). While the pandemic resulted in production delays and truncated seasons for many shows, the continued streaming-era trends of limited series and 8-13 episode seasons mean that a lot of great and satisfying storytelling still made its way to the screen. As always, I in no way lay any claims to “best-ness” or completeness – this is just a list of the shows that brought me the most joy and escapism in a tough year and therefore might be worth putting on your radar.

10 Favorites

10. The Right Stuff: Season 1 (Disney+)

As a space program enthusiast, even I had to wonder, does the world really need another retelling of NASA’s early days? Especially since Tom Wolfe’s book has already been adapted as the riveting and iconoclastic Philip Kaufman film of the same name? While some may disagree, I find that this Disney+ series does justify its existence by focusing more on the relationships of the astronauts and their personal lives than the technical science (which may be partially attributable to budget limitations?). The series is kind of like Mad Men but with NASA instead of advertising (and real people, of course), so if that sounds intriguing, I encourage you to give it a whirl.

9. Fargo: Season 4 (FX)

As a big fan of Noah Hawley’s Coen Brothers pastiche/crime anthology series, I was somewhat let down by this latest season. Drawing its influence primarily from the likes of gangster drama Miller’s Crossing – one of the Coens’ least comedic/idiosyncratic efforts – this season is more straightforward than its predecessors and includes a lot of characters and plot-threads that never quite cohere. That said, it is still amongst the year’s most ambitious television with another stacked cast, and the (more-or-less) standalone episode “East/West” is enough to make the season worthwhile.

8. The Last Dance (ESPN)

Ostensibly a 10-episode documentary about the 1990s Chicago Bulls’ sixth and final NBA Championship run, The Last Dance actually broadens that scope to survey the entire history of Michael Jordan and coach Phil Jackson’s careers with the team. Cleverly structured with twin narratives that chart that final season as well as an earlier timeframe, each episode also shifts the spotlight to a different person, which provides focus and variety throughout the series. And frankly, it’s also just an incredible ride to relive the Jordan era and bask in his immeasurable talent and charisma – while also getting a snapshot of his outsized ego and vices (though he had sign-off on everything, so it’s not exactly a warts-and-all telling).

7. The Queen’s Gambit (Netflix)

This miniseries adaptation of the Walter Tevis coming-of-age novel about a chess prodigy and her various addictions is compulsively watchable and avoids the bloat of many other streaming series (both in running time and number of episodes). The 1960s production design is stunning and the performances, including Anya Taylor-Joy in the lead role, are convincing and compelling.

6. The Great: Season 1 (hulu)

Much like his screenplay for The Favourite, Tony McNamara’s series about Catherine the Great rewrites history with a thoroughly modern and irreverent sensibility (see also: Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette). Elle Fanning brings a winning charm and strength to the title role and Nicholas Hoult is riotously entertaining as her absurdly clueless and ribald husband, Emperor Peter III. Its 10-episodes occasionally tilt into repetitiveness, but when the ride is this fun, why complain? Huzzah!

5. Dispatches From Elsewhere (AMC)

A limited (but possibly anthology-to-be?) series from creator/writer/director/actor Jason Segal, Dispatches From Elsewhere is a beautiful and creative affirmation of life and celebration of humanity. The first 9 episodes form a fulfilling and complete arc, while the tenth branches into fourth wall-breaking meta territory, which may be a bridge too far for some (but is certainly ambitious if nothing else). Either way, it’s a movingly realized portrait of honesty, vulnerability and empathy, and I highly recommend visiting whenever it inevitably makes its way to Netflix, or elsewhere…

4. What We Do in the Shadows: Season 2 (FX)

The second season of WWDITS is more self-assured and expansive than the first, extending a premise I loved from its antecedent film – but was skeptical could be sustained – to new and reinvigorated (after)life. Each episode packs plenty of laughs, but for my money, there is no better encapsulation of the series’ potential and Matt Berry’s comic genius than “On The Run,” which guest-stars Mark Hamill and features Laszlo’s alter ego Jackie Daytona, regular human bartender.

3. Ted Lasso: Season 1 (AppleTV+)

Much more than your average fish-out-of-water comedy, Jason Sudeikis’ Ted Lasso is a brilliant tribute to humaneness, decency, emotional intelligence and good coaching – not just on the field. The fact that its backdrop is English Premier League Soccer is just gravy (even if that’s not necessarily represented 100% proficiently). A true surprise and gem of the year.

2. Mrs. America (hulu)

This FX miniseries explores the women’s liberation movement and fight for the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1970s and its opposition by conservative women including Phyllis Schlafly. One of the most ingenious aspects of the series is centering each episode on a different character, which rotates the point of view and helps things from getting same-y. With a slate of directors including Ryan Bowden and Anna Fleck (Half-Nelson, Sugar, Captain Marvel) and an A-List cast including Cate Blanchett, Rose Byrne, Uzo Aduba, Sarah Paulson, Margo Martindale, Tracey Ulman and Elizabeth Banks, its quality is right up there with anything on the big screen. And its message remains (sadly) relevant as ever in our current era.

1. The Good Place: Season 4 (NBC)

It was tempting to omit The Good Place this year or shunt it to a side category since only the final 4 episodes aired in 2020, but that would have been disingenuous. This show is one of my all-time favorites and it ended perfectly. The series finale is a representative mix of absurdist humor and tear-jerking emotion, built on themes of morality, self-improvement, community and humanity. (And this last run of eps also includes a pretty fantastic Timothy Olyphant/Justified quasi-crossover.) Now that the entire series is available to stream on Netflix (or purchase in a nice Blu-ray set), it’s a perfect time to revisit the Good Place, or check it out for the first time if you’ve never had the pleasure.

5 of the Best Things I Caught Up With

Anne With An E (Netflix/CBC)

Another example of classic literature I had no prior knowledge of (see also Little Women and Emma), this Netflix/CBC adaptation of Anne of Green Gables was strongly recommended by several friends so I finally gave it a shot. While this is apparently slightly more grown-up than the source material, it’s not overly grimdark or self-serious but rather humane and heartfelt, expanding the story’s scope to include Black and First Nations peoples in early 1800s Canada, among other identities and themes. It has sadly been canceled, but the three seasons that exist are heart-warming and life-affirming storytelling. Fingers crossed that someday we’ll be gifted with a follow-up movie or two to tie up some of the dangling threads.

Better Call Saul (AMC)

I liked Breaking Bad, but I didn’t have much interest in an extended “Breaking Bad Universe,” as much as I appreciate star Bob Odenkirk’s multitalents. Multiple recommendations and lockdown finally provided me the opportunity to catch up on this prequel series and I’m glad I did. Just as expertly plotted and acted as its predecessor, the series follows Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman on his own journey to disrepute but really makes it hard not to root for his redemption (even as you know that’s not where this story ends).

Joe Pera Talks With You (Adult Swim)

It’s hard to really describe the deadpan and oddly soothing humor of comedian Joe Pera whose persona, in the series at least, combines something like the earnestness of Mr. Rogers with the calm enthusiasm of Bob Ross. Sharing his knowledge on the likes of how to get the best bite out of your breakfast combo, growing a bean arch and this amazing song “Baba O’Reilly” by the Who – have you heard it?!? – Pera provides arch comfort that remains solidly on the side of sincerity. The surprise special he released during lockdown, “Relaxing Old Footage with Joe Pera,” was a true gift in the middle of a strange and isolated year.

The Mandalorian (Disney+)

One of the few recent Star Wars properties that lives up to its potential, the adventures of Mando and Grogu is a real thrill-ride of a series with outstanding production values (you definitely want to check out the behind-the-scenes documentary series if you haven’t). I personally prefer the first season, appreciating its Western-influenced vibes and somewhat-more-siloed story. The back half of the second season veers a little too much into fan service and video game-y plotting IMHO but still has several excellent episodes on offer, especially the Timothy Olyphant-infused energy of premiere “The Marshall” and stunning cinematography of “The Jedi.” And, you know, Grogu.

The Tick (Amazon Prime)

I’ve been a fan of the Tick since the character’s Fox cartoon and indie comic book days and also loved the short-lived Patrick Warburton series from 2001. I was skeptical about this Amazon Prime reboot, especially upon seeing the pilot episode’s off-putting costumes. Finally gaining access to Prime this year, I decided to catch up and it gets quite good!, especially in Season 2. First, the costumes are upgraded; second, Peter Serafinowicz’s initially shaky characterization improves; and third, it begins to come into its own identity. The only real issue is yet another premature cancellation for the property, meaning Season 2’s tease of interdimensional alien Thrakkorzog will never be fulfilled. 😢

Bonus! 5 More Honorable Mentions:

City So Real (National Geographic)

The Good Lord Bird (Showtime)

How To with John Wilson: Season 1 (HBO)

Kidding: Season 2 (Showtime)

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy Vs The Reverend (Netflix)

#tv #television

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dwaynepride · 4 years ago

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the unfortunate case of nonchalance

PART IV - ACT OF MAKIN’ NOISE

summary: what goes up must come down.

words: 2,129

warnings: female reader, a gun fight

tags: @fairytale07 @jrenn10 @f4nboi @purplestarsr5 @ladyzombiielove @littlemiss3ma @minikate--24-05 @consultingdoctorwholock @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty @pageofultron @stanathanxoox @kittenlittle24

author’s note: part 4 of the cowboy!au series. this is a part of meg’s 11k challenge. the prompts are cowboy au and secret relationship trope.

part III | part V

March 2nd, 1889

Woke up to a strangely silent camp. Turns out, Anthony took Tim, Jimmy, and Eleanor out to town for the day.

What the four of them could do in a stifling town like this is beyond me. And I won’t lie, I have my worries about their conduct. Especially with how cross Anthony seems to have been this past week.

But there’s nothing I can do about it now. I have an appointment to keep at the bank, then perhaps another shooting lesson.

If those four are still somehow out of trouble by then, I’ll search for them. Though, I have my doubts.

The sun is hotter than normal today. It beats down on him like a pair of heavy fists, even if Jethro has his hat tilted in a way to keep his eyes covered. The town around him resumes their usual bustle - walking right past him without a second glance. Giving no indication that they even knew he was there.

Slowly, Jethro’s head cocks back to the doors of the bank. He keeps expecting you to walk out, smiling brightly, saying his name in that beautiful way that you do.

It doesn’t come, however. And Jethro is forced to stand and wait and think.

Mostly just think about how foolish he feels, right now. His eyes flicker down to his clothing, scowling at himself for trying to dress up a little. A pressed white shirt with pitch black slacks - about as finely-dressed as someone like him could be. It made sense this morning, when he rummaged through his chest. Though now, he thinks he regrets trying so hard.

It’s difficult not to when the memory of the kiss is still so fresh in his mind. Jethro was nearly convinced it was some kind of dream. So real, he almost asked Doctor Mallard if he had the fever.

But when he found his revolver missing from its sheathe, he knew it was no dream.

Even his lips were a fading memory of the kiss. Still seeming to tingle with the impression that your kiss bestowed on him. It’s aggravating, how easy you’re able to twist him up - but also exhilarating.

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the doors open. Jethro’s head swivels around, and finally, it’s your face that he sees. And judging from the expression you wear, his efforts in looking like a decent man has paid off. He knows the look you wear when you’re flustered. Right now, it’s in abundance.

But the blissful moment of seeing your face is spoiled when you’re followed by an older man. He wears a stiff three-piece suit, a golden watch tucked into the pocket of his coat, and Jethro doesn’t like the way he looks at you.

You turn back to the older man, still smiling wide. “Father, this is Mr. Jethro Gibbs. Jethro Gibbs, this is my father.”

Your father? Great.

The older man approaches, so Jethro tries to straighten himself up. Tries to show that he wasn’t surprised by the sudden meeting, even if he was. Your father had always seemed like this far-off prospect that he didn’t need to worry about. A stuffy, rich businessman whom Jethro might have taken an interest in before all the trouble out west.

Perhaps this is simply a side effect of becoming so close to you.

Jethro deftly sticks out his hand with a single nod. “Sir,” he greets promptly.

He shakes it back; such a strong grip for a banking man. “You’re the man my daughter keeps talking about, huh?” Your father asks. And when Jethro glances over the man’s shoulder, your eyes avert. “Hmmm. Walk with me, Mr. Gibbs.”

Jethro falls into step with him, with you on his other side. He hadn’t noticed until now, but your father had some papers tucked into the crook of his arm. He pulled them out, reading over them for a few moments. Jethro couldn’t hide the perplexed look on his face, and as he glances at you behind the older man, you’re laughing silently.

Good to know you seem to be enjoying this.

“My daughter says you were there at the saloon when some miserable drunkard was bothering her. That you came to her aid.”

Jethro’s eyes instantly comes back down to your father - he still hadn’t looked up from his papers, but he was obviously expecting a response. “Yes, sir.”

He nods solemnly. “Well, then you have my deepest gratitude, sir. My daughter has a habit of,” the older man trails off to look sideways at you, “getting herself into certain situations. My prayers are that her future husband may be able to keep her home, where she belongs.”

Crotchety old bastard, Jethro thinks.

“Yes, sir,” he repeats.

Tucking the papers back into his arm, the older man suddenly stops and turns to Jethro. And when he holds out his hand, Jethro takes it again and shakes. “It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Gibbens. I’m a very busy man, but do help yourself to some items in the general store, on my tab. It’s the least I can do for how you’ve helped my daughter,” he says. And his tone is flat and professional and Jethro can’t even be surprised anymore when he simply nods to you and walks off.

Jethro watches him leave. When he’s out of earshot, Jethro turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “Mr. Gibbens?” He asks.

You burst out with laughter, stepping closer and laying a hand on his arm. A small, simple gesture that nearly makes his shiver. “He’s not so bad, once you get to know him. He’ll remember your name, soon enough.”

“That so?” Jethro questions. He leans in just a little, a half-smirk on his lips, and rejoicing in the fact that your eyes flicker down. “Maybe I don’t intend on speaking to him often enough for him to learn.”

“Well, it would be awful hard to marry me if you never speak to him.”

For the life of him, Jethro can find no snarky response to that. Your words are serious, he can tell. The hand you have settled on his arm tightens, and Jethro moves to cover it with one of his own. And suddenly, right there on the street, Jethro wants to kiss you again. Just as deep and breathtakingly beautiful as the first one was.

And he might have, had the shrill scream of a woman down the street not caught his attention.

Jethro’s head snaps up just in time he see the bright muzzle flash of a gunshot. The sharp, explosive sound snaps through the air, and instinctively, Jethro grips your hand with his. He quickly pulls you out of the street, toward the closest alley and behind the cover of a brick building. It all went so quickly, you scarcely know what’s going on.

And yet, you’re afraid. Jethro can feel you gripping the lapels of his coat.

“It’s alright. Just stay low,” he mumbles out while poking his head out to see.

People are running about in a panic. Some ducking into shops, others just scattering and hoping they aren’t hit by a bullet. But even in all the chaos, Jethro thinks he knows what’s going on.

“Was that a gunshot?” You breathe out.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Looks like it came from the bank.”

“But we were just in there!”

He knows that. Painfully so. Jethro’s about to grab your hand to pull you away. To find someplace safe to bunker down and wait until the law can get this all under control. But before Jethro turns away, he watches a man burst out of the front door of the bank. A mask covers his face, but his stature is shockingly familiar; it makes Jethro go cold. Another man follows him out, shouting words that he can’t make out, but the man’s voice is so painfully recognizable.

It can’t be his young Tim McGee, can it? Tim is not so foolish to rob a big city bank.

There’s a tug on his coat. “Jethro, we need to leave this place!”

He hears your frightened voice. And yet, his feet are rooted to the ground.

Because he sees the fair and blonde-haired Eleanor Bishop stumble out of the bank. Blood stains her nice white dress - the dress she saves for the most special occasions. And Jethro knows instantly that the blood is not hers, because the man leaning against Eleanor can barely walk. His broad stature and mess of dark Italian hair is unmistakable behind the mask - it’s Anthony. He’s been shot.

These were Jethro’s people robbing the bank.

He’s almost numb when he turns to look at you. And it doesn’t help that your eyes are wide in terror, knuckles white in their grip on his coat. But Jethro sighs, takes your hands in his, and gently tries to detach them. “Listen, I need to go. But I want you to run. Run as far as you can away from here, and don’t came back looking for me,” he says, quick and firm.

“Jethro, what-”

“I know those people. I’m with them. But right now, they need me.” Finally, he’s able to pull your hands off his coat, but he keeps holding them tight. Keeps his eyes locked on yours. “I’ll find you in a couple days, when everything dies down. But right now, you need to run away.”

Jethro brings your hands up, kisses them quickly, and then moves away. He knows you’re scared out of your mind - all the shooting lessons in the world hasn’t prepared you for something as real and chaotic as a bank heist. Maybe in a way, that’s his fault.

But as he leaves the alleyway, he sees you running the other direction out the corner of his eye.

Good. At least you’ll be safe.

Finally, Jethro pulls his pistol out of his coat pocket. He’s moving through the ever-thinning crowd of frantic people, trying to make his way over to his struggling gang. Again, he spots Eleanor struggling to drag Anthony to their hitched horses. So he breaks into a sprint - he knows the law will be here any second. And with Anthony hurt, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.

“Eleanor!” He calls out. Her head whips around, and he catches a brief look at the shock on her face. But he ducks around to Anthony’s other side to help support his weight. And from here, Jethro can really see the blood. It’s all over the front of his clothes. Jethro can’t tell where the wound is, but he knows it’s gotta be bad.

Anthony lets out a low groan - no doubt feeling all the jostling around from being half-carried. But his eyes dart over to Jethro under his mask. “Boss? I didn’t think you’d show up to the party,” Anthony murmured, and then winced when Eleanor nearly tripped over his feet.

“Shut up, you dumbass,” Jethro grumbles. He arches his head up to look around - no sign of lawmen yet. “I told you not to hit the bank.”

Anthony’s labored breathing is harsh in his ear. “We needed a big score, boss.”

Jethro’s about to retort, but there’s more gunshots. When he raises his head again, Jethro’s spots nearly a dozen men on horseback coming right for them. Tim fires his rifle at them, and the first man who burst out of the bank turns back to the three of them. “Get Anthony back to camp! We’ll cover you!”

With a sinking pit in his belly, Jethro recognizes Jimmy Palmer’s voice. Anthony even roped him into this shitshow.

He’s scowling as he reaches Anthony’s horse. Him and Eleanor quickly push the Italian up on the back of it. And Anthony seems barely able to keep himself upright as Jethro pulls himself into the saddle. Bullets whizz past his head, but even still, he glances down to Eleanor. “You better be right behind me!” He shouts to her.

She’s firing off at the lawmen, but waves Jethro off quickly. “Go. Get him back to camp!”

He’s reluctant to leave them, but Jethro snaps the reins and rides out of town. Anthony leans against his back, no doubt soaking Jethro’s coat in his blood. But judging how limp he feels against him, Jethro’s figures he’s probably unconscious from blood loss. Or maybe the rough ride of the horse was too much for him. Either way, Doctor Mallard better be at camp.

But as he rides, try as he might to keep his focus on Anthony and his gang, Jethro can’t help but glance back to the retreating buildings of the town.

And he desperately hopes you got to safety.

#ncis x reader #ncis reader insert #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs imagine

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unexceptional · 2 years ago

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OUT. || If you ask Becky who her favorite Avenger is, she’s going to give a different answer each time, and it’s never Steve or Jimmy, because she’s an asshole.

#iii. ( steve ) — we'll tell our stories on these walls #iii. ( jimmy ) — we have the right to call this home #ii. ( ic ) — beckycore #she really is a special kind of pill

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dougmeet · 4 years ago

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flynt (13) hustler (5) died (4) trump (4) million (3) doing (3) insurance (3) larry (3) seniors (3) ditching (3)

In 2017, Flynt offered a $10 million reward for evidence that would lead to Trump’s impeachment, and in 2019, Larry Flynt Publications sent a Christmas card to some Republican congressional members that showed Trump lying dead in a pool of blood, with the killer saying: “I just shot Donald Trump on Fifth Avenue and no one assassinated me” — a reference to Trump’s boast that he could commit such a killing and wouldn’t lose votes.

Eggleston Works è una società di cui avevo sentito parlare molto tempo prima che io abbia mai avuto la possibilità di assaggiare le loro merci. Situato a Memphis, nel Tennessee, La loro prima offerta era un oratore che sembrava un tavolo finale, ma alla fine non ha avuto il successo come avevano sperato. Alla fine del 1996, l'Andra fu rilasciato.

Dr. Seuss Enterprises Will Shelve 6 Books, Citing 'Hurtful' Portrayals

no more Seuss or WAP for my kid

CSS Grid CSS Grid simplifies existing layout patterns

and

adds new possibilities for graphic design.

It’s a layout framework — without the framework

Fixed or FlexibleYou can create a grid with fixed track sizes or with flexible sizes using percentages or the new

fr fractional unit

Place & Align

You can place items at precise locations on the grid independent of their HTML source order. Alignment features control how items align when placed into a grid area, and also how the whole grid is aligned.

In our urban and suburban houses what should we do without cats? In our sitting or bedrooms, our libraries, in our kitchens and storerooms, our farms, barns, and dockyards, in our docks, our granaries, our ships, and our wharves, in our corn markets, meat markets, and other places too numerous to mention, how useful they are! In our ships, however, the rats oft set them at defiance; still they are of great service. How wonderfully patient is the cat when watching for rats or mice, awaiting their egress from their place of refuge or that which is their home! How well Shakespeare in Pericles, Act iii., describes this keen attention of the cat to its natural pursuit! A slight rustle, and the fugitive comes forth; a quick, sharp, resolute motion, and the cat has proved its usefulness. Let any one have a plague of rats and mice, as I once had, and let them be delivered therefrom by cats, as I was, and they will have a lasting and kind regard for them.

watch -- 6,780 results ("mrjyn" AND "dougmeet") OR ("dougmeet" AND "BLACKPINK") SEO Results Deliver (images) in something i call (Bracket Racket Cluster SOF SEO) inspired by mr. Kurzweil, who makes your piano tuned No thanks to The Recording Academy for inexplicably overlooking Apple's new album Fetch the Bolt Cutters for an Album of the Year nod at this year's Grammys. @fionaapplerocks

flynt (13)

hustler (5)

died (4)

trump (4)

million (3)

doing (3)

insurance (3)

larry (3)

seniors (3)

ditching (3)

Porn purveyor Larry Flynt, who built Hustler magazine into an adult entertainment empire while championing First Amendment rights, died Wednesday.

He was 78.

Flynt had been in frail health and died of heart failure at his Hollywood Hills home, said his nephew, Jimmy Flynt Jr.

Advertisement Skip Ad From his beginnings as an Ohio strip club owner to his reign as founder of one of the most explicit adult-oriented magazines, Flynt constantly challenged the establishment and became a target for the religious right and feminist groups.

Flynt scored a surprising U.S. Supreme Court victory over the Rev.

Jerry Falwell, who had sued him for libel after a 1983 Hustler alcohol ad suggested Falwell had lost his virginity to his mother in an outhouse.

Paid Post What Is This? Seniors Are Ditching Their Auto Insurance and Doing This Instead Seniors Are Ditching Their Auto Insurance and Doing This Instead Seniors Are Ditching Their Auto Insurance and Doing This Instead See More Sponsored Content by Comparisons.org Flynt’s company produced not only Hustler but other niche publications.

He owned a video production company, various websites, a Los Angeles-area casino and 10 Hustler boutiques.

He also licensed the Hustler name to independently owned strip clubs.

His publishing and financial successes were offset in equal measure by controversies and tragedies.

Advertisement 00:48 02:53 Shot by a sniper in 1978, Flynt was paralyzed from the waist down and used a wheelchair the rest of his life.

He fought battles with drug and alcohol addiction, and his fourth wife died of a heroin overdose.

His daughter, Lisa Flynt-Fugate, died in a 2014 car crash in Ohio at age 47.

With a fortune estimated at more than $100 million, Flynt spent his later years in the political arena.

When Gov.

Gray Davis was recalled by California voters in 2003, Flynt was among 135 candidates who ran to replace him.

He called himself “a smut peddler who cares” and gathered more than 15,000 votes.

A self-described progressive, Flynt was no fan of former President Donald Trump.

Before the 2016 election, he offered up to $1 million for video or audio recordings of Trump engaging in illegal or “sexually demeaning or derogatory” activity.

Flynt’s life was depicted in the acclaimed 1996 film “The People vs.

Larry Flynt,” which brought Oscar nominations for director Milos Forman and Woody Harrelson, who played Flynt.

—2021年3月3日 (@mrjyn) status: WAP—2021年3月3日 (@mrjyn)

Twitter [@] Tweet to: @squarebooks From: @mrjyn Comm. on: squarebooks (reply) RE: SB mention by (author) re. SB her book status: WAP—2021年3月3日 (@mrjyn)

mrjyn comment: quotes Elvis song lyric: 'i don't care' adds: 'I miss #BarryHannah (author), mutual friend to mrjyn (person) and SB, Oxford, MS (bookstore) adding here: RIP Date: 03:13:2021 Time: 8:17 CST

1 of 3 jpg att: 1. Elvis photo ephemera 'TCB Oath' 2. Photo of cover of Barry Hannah book jacket "Tennis Handsome" Pub: Knopf Ed.: Gordon Lish 3. Jerry Lee Lewis Cover of Bio Author: Nick Tosches

definitive hypnogogic, Biblical Ovid Southern Gothic Epic hagiography, esprit l'escalier epitaph precursor to whose words will be most tribute to the possible mortality race between the Killer and Keith Richards, KR JLL's Jr. by 15 yrs. check Vegas Book for Odds says Stanley Booth, Author 'Up and Down with the Rolling Stones,' Memphis, TN 'author' -- not Rockcrit, please?

mrjyn comment: quotes Elvis song lyric: 'i don't care' BarryHannah

This frisky pop confection finds Blackpink teaming up with American singer Selena Gomez. The five girls use a series of ice cream double entendres to send out mating calls and detail how they are different from the other females. I know that my heart can be so cold But I'm sweet for you, come put me in a cone Blackpink and Gomez are encouraging the guys to ignore their icy cool demeanors. Once they take a couple of scoops they will find they are loving and affectionate.

The song's icy metaphors not only have a sensual connotation but also allude to the singers' wealth. Ice on my wrist, yeah, I like it like this Get the bag with the cream The girls are wearing diamond encrusted watches (ice is a slang word for diamonds). "Get the bag with the cream" refers to a bag loaded with cash.

The song is Blackpink's second hookup with a major American pop star in 2020, following their Lady Gaga collaboration, "Sour Candy." Both songs use sexy food analogies to represent the enticing love that the girls are ready to give out.

Frequent Blackpink collaborators, the Korean Teddy Park and the American Bekuh Boom, are the primary writers. Park wrote the main melody while Boom was in Korea. She then wrote the lyrics over his tune, incorporating a series of sexy ice cream-related play on words. The other credited writers are Ariana Grande, her go-to collaborators Victoria Monet, and Tommy Brown, Mr. Franks, Selena Gomez and the Korean producer 24.

The retro-tinged video finds Gomez driving a pink ice cream truck in a pinup sailor outfit. The four Blackpink girls all appear in a candy-coated frozen dessert fantasy land before ending the clip in an ice cream amusement park. Blackpink's scenes were filmed in South Korea, while the scenes featuring Gomez were shot in the US because of the coronavirus pandemic.

The song was birthed at a songwriting camp that producer Teddy Park asked Bekuh Boom to run for Blackpink's debut studio album. Boom asked Tommy Brown and Victoria Monét to come to the sessions at LA's Westlake Studio, and the pair brought Mr. Franks along with them. "Tommy had Franks pull up beats, and eventually Franks played the one that all of us started vibing to and decided to work on together," recalled Boom to Genius. "Victoria brought up the subject 'ice cream' and started humming melodies that we then started writing lyrics to together in the room. From that point on we had a great back and forth of ideas for the first half of the song that was done that night."

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no more Seuss or WAP for my kid. Dr. Seuss Enterprises Will Shelve 6 Books, Citing 'Hurtful' Portrayals https://t.co/Cc23ru1M6K— mrjyn (@mrjyn) 2021年3月3日

Eggleston Works " Fontaine II "

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L'opportunità per me di ascoltare un altoparlante EgglestonWorks è arrivata tramite il mio amico e collega, Marshall Nack. Alcuni di voi lettori a lungo termine potrebbero ricordare la recensione approfondita di Marshall dei Rosas di EgglestonWorks. Marshall e la sua adorabile moglie Lynn sono una coppia insolita in quanto entrambi sono audiofili. In realtà, sono l'unica coppia audiofila che conosco personalmente. Sono certo che il fatto che siano entrambi dei musicisti seri è in gran parte responsabile della loro capacità di ascoltare le gradazioni e i dettagli tonali molto fini con tanta facilità. Tra i suoi molti talenti, Marshall ha un'eccezionale capacità di dare voce a un sistema. Sembra sempre in grado di trovare la giusta miscela di componenti e accessori che si traducono in un sistema eccezionalmente ben bilanciato. Questo è molto più difficile da realizzare di quanto si possa pensare. Tuttavia, la natura rivelatrice dei diffusori EgglestonWorks è stata determinante nel raggiungimento dei suoi obiettivi sonori. Quando lo Stereophile Show è arrivato in città questa primavera, la stanza di EgglestonWorks era in cima alla mia lista delle visite obbligatorie. È stato lì che ho incontrato EgglestonWorks prez Jim Thomson e ho iniziato il mio primo ascolto con i Fontaines. So che hai tutti sentito che la qualità del suono agli spettacoli è generalmente piuttosto brutta. Mentre trovo che questo sia ampiamente vero, allo stesso tempo, puoi avere un'idea del potenziale sonoro di un prodotto, o come alla fine potrebbe funzionare in condizioni di casa. I Fontaines furono sistemati nella sala dell'home theater di Eggleston. Incluso con il display era un paio di sub-woofer dedicati. Secondo la letteratura aziendale, "il design di ciascun modello di altoparlante nella linea EgglestonWorks inizia con il midrange". Per le Fontaines, una coppia di 6 "polipropilene, i driver a doppio magnete gestiscono il midrange e il basso. Ognuno di questi driver ha una bobina da 3 "di diametro, che è stata ripetuta molte volte ma che ripete, come è vero, se il midrange non è corretto, di tutti gli altri è infruttuoso. Il tweeter ha una grande camera di smorzamento aperiodico che imita il caricamento infinito del diaframma. Il tweeter è collegato al crossover con un cappuccio e due resistori utilizzati come un L-pad. Un singolo set di morsetti è montato in un pannello incassato nella parte posteriore della sezione driver. Ho chiesto a Jim Thompson di utilizzare un singolo set di post di rilegatura in contrasto con la tendenza attuale di utilizzare post doppio. I driver sono direttamente collegati ai bind. Ovviamente, se un cliente è impostato su biwiring, questi diffusori possono essere dotati di doppio binding post su un ordine speciale.

I driver dei bassi e dei medi sono alloggiati in quello che EgglestonWorks descrive come una custodia con una linea di trasmissione quasi in trasmissione. Ciò si ottiene impiegando un materiale di imbottitura acustico specializzato noto come " Lastre di granito italiane legate a loro. Il risultato finale di questi sforzi è un recinto molto inerte che fornisce una risposta dei bassi molto migliore rispetto alle dimensioni ridotte dei driver. Dopo diverse conversazioni con Jim Thompson, quattro cartoni di dimensioni medie ma piuttosto pesanti arrivarono da EgglestonWorks. I cartoni contenevano il driver e le sezioni di base corrispondenti. Dovresti stare molto attento mentre imposti questi diffusori per non danneggiare la squisita finitura nera del pianoforte. L'immagine non rende in alcun modo giustizia a questi oratori. Devi davvero vederli di persona per capire cosa intendo. I Fontaines possono essere visti come uno di quei prodotti che rientrano nella categoria "audio come arte". Sono semplicemente belli. I Fontaines possono essere visti come uno di quei prodotti che rientrano nella categoria "audio come arte". Sono semplicemente belli. I Fontaines possono essere visti come uno di quei prodotti che rientrano nella categoria "audio come arte". Sono semplicemente belli. La vestibilità e la finitura sono proprio lì con il meglio che abbia mai visto.È ovvio per me che EgglestonWorks ha preso molta cura e ha fatto spese considerevoli nella progettazione e costruzione di questi contenitori. Una volta assemblati, gli altoparlanti danno l'aspetto di un monolitico sul pavimento. Le basi sono sabbia-fallibili e formeranno un recinto molto sostanziale. Vi consiglio caldamente di stabilirvi il posizionamento finale prima di riempire le basi di sabbia. Questi bambini sono abbastanza pesanti per cominciare; una volta riempito di sabbia, sarebbe quasi impossibile per la persona media muoversi da sola. Ho posizionato gli altoparlanti su una trapunta, quindi sui loro lati, per inserire i quattro bulloni che fissano le basi in posizione. Questo viene fatto attraverso un pannello di accesso nella parte inferiore della base. Mentre le punte fornite sono molto robuste, hanno un filo sottile e possono essere facilmente danneggiati se si è negligenti durante l'installazione. Il cofano del conducente è molto inerte quindi consiglierei molto se decidi di eseguire il test delle articolazioni.

Mi piace particolarmente il modo in cui hanno scelto di affrontare le griglie. Sono costruiti con un materiale molto puro montato su una sottile struttura in acciaio. Si collegano al pannello frontale mediante magneti che sono sepolti sotto il laminato di superficie. Questa disposizione rende il fissaggio delle griglie il più semplice possibile e ha funzionato bene per me. Mentre l'efficienza è elencata come quello che potrebbe sembrare un 87db piuttosto basso, non ho avuto problemi a raggiungere livelli di rottura del lease con l'amplificatore di potenza Bel Canto EVo. Però, Quando ricevo nuove attrezzature da recensire, inviterò spesso diversi amici non audiofili, accenderò il sistema e osserverò le loro reazioni. In ogni caso, le reazioni ai Fontaines iniziarono prima che il primo CD fosse nel cassetto ed erano sempre abbastanza positivi. Tutti sono stati presi con il loro aspetto sorprendente e il modo in cui si sono mescolati così facilmente nella stanza. Sono belli come sono discreti. Mentre è abbastanza ovvio dalle specifiche e dalla qualità dell'hardware utilizzato che EgglestonWorks costruisce i suoi diffusori con molta cura,

Come suonano? Dal momento che non ho la possibilità di eseguire alcuna misurazione sull'attrezzatura che ho per la revisione, posso solo dirti come si comportano nel mio sistema. Mentre credo che le misure abbiano il loro posto, difficilmente danno il quadro complessivo. Ci sono stati molti componenti che hanno misurato terribilmente, ma erano artisti stellari dal punto di vista sonoro, e viceversa. Hanno quella qualità trasparente che consente ad ogni strumento di occupare il proprio spazio, ma sempre con un naturale senso di proporzione all'interno del palcoscenico. Nessuna durezza o nervosismo ha mai accompagnato questa chiarezza. Ho notato anche una qualità semplice e costante del suono che lasciava che la musica scorresse in modo molto seducente. Piatti e campane hanno la giusta quantità di lucentezza e delicatezza e di nuovo, sembrano avere le giuste dimensioni. I tassi di decadimento per questi strumenti contribuiscono anche al senso del realismo. Hanno costantemente svelato i dettagli di basso livello che tra l'altro davano un senso reale delle dimensioni del luogo di registrazione. Con Miles Davis,Tipo di bluHo sempre messo in discussione il suono registrato del pianoforte, specialmente con molte delle vecchie registrazioni Blue Note. Proprio l'opposto è il caso della registrazione XRCD, in particolare con molte delle vecchie registrazioni Blue Note. Proprio l'opposto è il caso della registrazione XRCD, in particolare con molte delle vecchie registrazioni Blue Note. Proprio l'opposto è il caso della registrazione XRCD,Waltz for Debby del Bill Evans Trio [JVC XRCD VICJ-60141]. Qui le qualità tonali e la complessa struttura armonica del pianoforte sono presentate molto bene. Sono rimasto sorpreso dal senso di profondità con cui questi relatori mi hanno presentato. La mia stanza non collaborerà molto in quest'area, quindi questa è stata una sorpresa gradita. In effetti, è il migliore che ho sentito qui. Il riempimento del centro era azzeccato: i solisti erano un po 'più avanti di quanto io non fossi abituato, ma era di buon effetto. Nel complesso, ho trovato le capacità di imaging di questi diffusori di essere eccezionalmente buone. Per i miei gusti, Dal momento che il punto -3db è quotato a 55Hz, non mi aspettavo troppo dalle regioni inferiori, ma sono rimasto piacevolmente sorpreso da ciò che ho sentito. Ora non fraintendere, questi non sono gli altoparlanti per gli organi a canne o i fan del reggae. Per quel tipo di uscita dei bassi dovresti guardare molto più in alto nella linea EgglestonWorks. Ciò che è notevole in questo caso è la precisione del basso. Non è mai cupo; piuttosto, tende ad essere stretto e melodico. Quando eseguito male, il basso può oscurare gli elementi musicali nella gamma media inferiore. Il basso dei Fontaines non interferisce o oscura affatto il midrange. In altre parole, la fioritura della fascia bassa non viene a scapito della chiarezza del midrange. Per classica e buona parte del jazz, potresti essere abbastanza soddisfatto della fascia bassa delle Fontaines. Nel complesso, l'uscita dei bassi è stata molto meglio di quanto mi aspettassi. Lo scorso giugno Tim Shea ha scritto una magnifica recensione del Musse Audio Reference Two NF speakers. Li ho a portata di mano e farò una revisione di follow-up. Tuttavia, poiché sono nella stessa fascia di prezzo delle Fontaines, I Reference Twos, come i Fontaines, sono monitor bidirezionali. In questo caso, fornisci gli stand. Le differenze sonore colpiscono a causa della forza di ciascuna bugia alle estremità opposte dello spettro sonoro. Con un punto -3db di 35Hz e una frequenza di sintonizzazione della porta di 29Hz, non sorprende che i Reference Twos si approfondiscano. La parte bassa qui è stretta e melodica. Mentre i Fontaines non vanno così in profondità, Devo dire che il basso è un po 'più stretto e un po' più melodico dei Reference Twos. Tuttavia, i Fontaines ottengono sicuramente un cenno del capo per l'estensione del registro medio e superiore, dolcezza e ottima resa dei dettagli. Questi sono tratti sonori che sono un appuntamento fisso nella sala d'ascolto di Perry e in seguito sono venuto ad ascoltarli per tutto il tempo. In aggiunta a questo, c'è molta aria intorno agli strumenti con un tasso di decadimento molto buono. Alcuni potrebbero descrivere questi diffusori come neutri dal punto di vista tonale, tuttavia si desidera descrivere questa caratteristica. Io, d'altra parte, trovare la loro tonalità per essere leggermente sul lato caldo. Mi sta bene. Nel complesso, semplicemente si tolgono la via della musica. Etta James, Life, Love and The Blues [Private Label 01005-82162-2]: Questo è un CD che è un ottimo esempio del suono "Mussel Shoals". Ha una linea di basso sostenuta molto pesante durante molti tagli. Check-out " senza alcun segno di sovraccarico del conducente o altro pericolo. Dal basso superiore in su tutto va bene. La voce di Etta James arriva con la giusta quantità di morso e calore. Dal basso superiore in su tutto va bene. La voce di Etta James arriva con la giusta quantità di morso e calore. Dal basso superiore in su tutto va bene. La voce di Etta James arriva con la giusta quantità di morso e calore. Patricia Barber, Companion Il senso di immediatezza e presenza è tale che è possibile ottenere un'implicazione delle dimensioni della stanza senza alcun iper-dettaglio per intromettersi. Sul taglio "Usami" c'è un assolo di basso verticale che i Fontaines riproducono con tutte le trame e la ricchezza armonica in tatto. Signorina. La voce del barbiere ha una trama soffice che è abbastanza piacevole senza che i dettagli vocali siano mai esagerati. Non ho mai avuto l'impressione di poter vedere le sue tonsille. Con opere sinfoniche su larga scala, questi bambini continuano nella stessa vena. Mentre le loro capacità limitate di fascia bassa diminuiranno parte dello slam e del peso che i loro fratelli più grandi sono in grado di gestire, Per riassumere, la EgglestonWorks Fontaines può essere descritta come molto musicale. Mentre ti daranno tutti gli attributi che gli audiofili bramano, non sono mai eccessivamente analitici. Apprezzo molto le qualità dei medi che mantengono le mie sessioni di ascolto sul lato lungo. Mi fanno venire voglia di togliersi la roba da audiofili e semplicemente sedersi e godersi la musica. Mi trovo a tirare fuori CD dopo CD che non ho sentito da un po 'di tempo per ascoltare. Se ritieni di dover semplicemente avere quell'ultimo bit di uscita dei bassi, ricorda che i sottotitoli corrispondenti sono disponibili. palcoscenico sonoro totalmente coerente e la massima semplicità della presentazione musicale. Non ho mai sentito alcuna discontinuità tra basso, medi o alti. Erano sempre coerenti in questo senso. Questi diffusori sono di altissima qualità ed è necessario collegarli a ingranaggi di pari qualità a monte. Ovviamente lavoreranno con amplificatori economici, ma riveleranno rapidamente tutte le carenze e le deficienze del suono. Le Fontaines EgglestonWorks sono l'essenza del lusso. Mentre non possono essere considerati a buon mercato e sono in un campo affollato a questo punto di prezzo

VEDIAMO DIETRO

Firefox’s Grid Inspector Tool lets you see the grid lines in the browser while you’re creating a layout or studying other examples of CSS Grid in action. In fact, this entire page was laid out using CSS Grid. Try it out!

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Jen Simmons’ website

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CSS Grid and Grid Highlighter Now in Firefox Developer Edition

A Brief Intro to CSS Grid

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thepausedsforzando · 4 years ago

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III. The Paused Sforzando

Part I. The End To The Remaining Effort

*******Introduction*******

It’s been 5 years. 5 years and a month just about. This post looks weird in public because it’s first one. It’s also marked as III. On October 8th, 2019 I nuked my entire Tumblr. Actually, I nuked all 3: hunkee, digitalclothingofhunkee and thepsychologyofdarthvader. That was a heavy day. This series has been shotty and inconsistent, in that gaps have become bigger and the details have lessened. This could likely be due to the feedback and problems I’ve had with people in my posts when I would talk about personal things that were not only private for me but for them. Primarily, these inconsistencies and gaps are because I’ve slowly descended into more of a void of a human being than I ever thought I could be when my life was right. January 6th, 2016. That’s where we last left off. “We” now means, and has always meant, current Matthew, as well as the one who will be reading this. If any Where are we now? Corny, I know, but you wanted to type it.

I have always dreamed of having a Tumblr where I had literally 0 holdbacks. If it was disturbing or could easily be misunderstood, I’d post it anyway. But coming from a Christian background where the Christian homeschool choirs I was in had its dark pockets of judgement, it, or more than just it, made me severely self-conscious. But that is tied deeper to why I care about what others think, and how their attention makes or breaks me as a human being. But I’m getting head of myself. On purpose.

hunkee, and it’s other 2 sisters were that of restriction. No more. So many have lost touched, forgotten and abandoned me, so who fucking cares now. I may still care. I’m showing it right now, but I’ll contradict that.

One thing I will hold back on is the private information of loved ones who never got a voice to choose whether or not to have their private lives posted here. I am transparent and honest to an extreme, and it’s gotten me in trouble more than I ever thought or wanted to. Therefore, what you will be seeing is the second draft, edited to filter out private events out of love and/or respect to those who didn’t get a voice. They will be edited with summaries and I may even redact names or change said names. Those people deserve it. And I should have known back then. But you can’t know everything. I could have learned faster, but respect is being shown nonetheless.

Alot has happened from January 6th, 2016 to February 5th, 2021. What I choose to be here will be here, and other installments will follow. Where we last left off was- well before I say it, let me show you the progression:

- 2009: The end of my childhood and innocence - 2010: a solid year of happiness in the first chapter of adulthood - 2011: not bad - 2012: The beginning of the dark renaissance; the start of it all - 2013: The Darkness: The darkest point, the breakdown, the intervention and the beginning of me stopping any care and any effort. Laziness became my life. - 2014: The Void: Through trying with little effort, the numbness grew - 2015: I literally forgot most of 2015. The Void at its highest - 2016: The End: The year that I gave up, after 5 years of trying through abandonment. - 2017: Committing to my abandonment. - 2018: Rebirth: The slow growth of the tiniest voice within me. - 2019: Pause #1: Amber - 2020: ugh: - 2021: ugh:

Let’s just begin.

**************

As per usual, let’s recap from the 16th. My name is Matthew. I’m 24 and a half years old. I work at Patsco Windshield Repair and had for about a month. I have been living back at my parents now for 2 years and about 4 months. I’d been single for 1 year and 2 months. I still had my Roth IRA and likely got rid of my savings account due to poor management of my money. I had suppressed my love for Amber again, and it wouldn’t be the last time. I was emotionally void after raging and depressing for years. My life had no meaning, nor did I really have many friends or any social interactions. I had a car. I can’t remember what bills I dealt with, but it was likely phone, insurance, health insurance and idk.

Life at Patsco was pretty lame. I would drive to the corner of a parking lot on a busy road, hold up a sign for a while and repair people’s windshields. Calling insurance companies and cleaning headlights. Great for a high schooler; pathetic that I was there in life at 24. The pay was $12/hr. I forgot if the hours were good. But the best thing that happened then was I read Dante Alighieri’s Inferno. I fell in love with that book. Standing on the grass next to cars at the red light of whatever intersection I was assigned that day. Immersed in the world and loving the darkness. I found beauty in dark things and gravitated towards hateful content. Who would have figured.

Patsco didn’t last very long. Maybe I got fired, I think I did. My memory has deteriorated so much over the past x amount of years. As has my attention span. And effort. Anyway, it usually takes me 1-3 months to find work, and on April whenever, I became a delivery driver for Jimmy John’s. Yet again, a low end, dead end job. I lasted just about 2 years. I asked Asia to let me stay long enough to make it an even two years, but she couldn’t stand me and it didn’t go that long.

Amber had either come back or was always there. For private reasons, someone in her life had jealously forbade me to come over and witness the birth of her first child. That didn't fucking happen with her second. I was there. More on that later.

Remembering 2015, 2016 and 2017 is hard. I'm having to pull up my resume, previous entries of this series and go back to where I was then. By the time Jimmy John’s rolled around, I’d been back home for over 2 and a half years. Being numb and unmotivated, I was also an asshole to live with. I treated my mother horribly. There is much to get into about what I have learned about her over the years and why we clash, but I always handled it wrong and I still do. Too lazy to confront her. She saw me at my worst. Whatever I could do out loud, she mostly saw and had to be the victim of it. She didn’t deserve it.

What I write about tends to focus on home, mom and dad, work, cars and not much else. I’ve neglected to mention Eva but once. I feel bad that in a forgetful and numb phase, I forgot when I met Eva. I met her on MeetMe, a social app for meeting people that too many guys used as a dating site. It was really, really pathetic. But I was open to meeting a significant other too I bet. There goes the hypocrisy. Take note. I just didn’t advertise it and let whatever unfolded, unfold. Before I mention Eva, what happened on MeetMe is notable. I just didn’t advertise it and I'd let whatever unfolded unfold. This is where I was at: I met someone who lived across the road from me named Evie. I put what I wanted onto her and god fucking dammit I was creepy. We were barely just talking and I was gushing over her. She was pretty and I wanted to be with someone.

My obsession with women had always been a tame problem that sprouted when it got to be intense. In 2011, when the neglect started, my creepiness, lack of social interactions and desire to have a girlfriend got weirder. Every girl that was remotely attractive, or not even that attractive was ‘so right for me’ and I’d pursue. Ashley, Andrea, Christa, Amy. I can’t even remember them all. It was every. fucking. woman. that came to Josh's and I's house. Someone I hadn’t been vibing with or talking to in the first place. That’s the key, you get to know someone and if they move that way WITH you, then it’s something. I always bash guys for pursuing if THEY want it, whether they’ve talked to them much or not. In my own way, I did that. I just didn’t assert myself as hard because in this context, it would have been awkward.

Evie casually told me where she worked. We were barely acquaintances and had never met or even had each others’ numbers. And when I saw she was getting off work one night, I bought her the candy she said she loved and walked over to her in front of the store at night, basically a total stranger, and gave her the Reese’s after clarifying who I was. She was extremely quiet. I bet she didn’t eat those candies because she thought the psycho who I guess you could say stalked her poisoned them and is going to kidnap her. Fuck me that was stupid. But that’s where I was at. My desire got stronger and more obsessive over these 4 years. This might have happened in 2015. Either way, I was doing things that were not Matthew. Using a woman for sex, stalking one, and Naomi....Poor Naomi.

We were talking as friends. She was beautiful. I wanted someone. She did NOT want to find a significant other. When she was reaching out for someone to talk to, it was a friend to confide in. And she made that clear. I lowkey pursued her romantically. We’d meet down the street of her house and park in a parking lot close by. We’d talk deeply, about her hard life. And I would be there for her. Once I told her my intentions, we stopped talking. She was upset, and had every right to be. When I was pursuing Amber 3 years prior, I was putting her newborn to sleep and said ‘can you say “daddy?”’...............................it’s hard for me to bring that up because as wrong as it was and I probably knew at the time, now I can’t....I can’t even explain the awkwardness and shame I feel for saying that. Like I devolved from already clingy/kinda obsessive/maybe on occasion creepy to.....that. To a newborn whose mother....I can’t remember if she liked me at that time. I think she did. ReGARDLESS.

The last time I wasn’t like this was Ana. in late 2011/early2012. I was never perfect as I’ve said like 3 times with regards to my intense emotions towards girlfriends. Hell, I wasn’t bad at all to Nicole. But this loneliness, that was a combination of my fault and other things that made me do things I regret. I had my first one night stand years ago. Attaining friends was through the screen of my phone. I couldn’t make friends. I lost my ability to be social. I became more socially awkward. Pursuing women wasn’t successful, and my desire had gone out of control.

Here I am, miles away from the original point: Eva. She was a female and I was looking for a relationship. Desiring love, affection and to get fucking laid. It came in the form of many creepy endeavors. I wasn’t as terrible with Eva. I liked her because I liked every female that came in contact with me. So it wasn’t even genuine when I told her. But we got past that. Wasn’t trying to get in her pants or anything heinous. But as that small phase passed, for the first time in years, I gained a friend. I made a new friend........it’s not that it’s hard, but was for me. I can’t think of the last time I made a new friend. But I hit the jackpot. No one is more loyal than Eva.

She was an actual friend. She listened to me. I listened to her. We cared for each other. She invited me to her house and to outings with her friends. She cared about me. Someone finally did. It was nothing to her. Like it should be nothing to anyone else: you have friends and you spend time with them. But it was the universe and all its stars to me. I made a big deal out of it for reasons you already know. She was the true friend I needed, but got so late. I felt included, I felt cared about and I felt wanted. I think she’d even text me first! That doesn’t exist anymore! She became a bright spot, but it didn’t change what was coming.

I got mad at Jimmy John’s. Aggressive driving, maybe dealing with the occasional dick ‘cause I was in an upper middle class (some would say rich) area of town. Having been void for so long, I felt I was at a dead end. I think I was friends with Eva by then. I had only been at Jimmy John’s for a month, not even. 2 days before Mother’s Day was when it finally happened.

Despite the angel that had come into my life, I was still lazy and numb, but I feel I was more angry at this point. Regardless, on May 6th, 2016, I officially gave up. From neglect to anger to depression to laziness, it had all culminated to this. It came in waves: neglect, anger, depression, suicidal ideation, hopelessness, self-attack, breakdown, intervention, self-abandonment, extreme sloth, numbness beyond the realm of textual representation, sick of my state, denying help, anger and then release. Release of it all. When I say ‘I gave up’, that seems so small in text, but defined ‘the rest of my life’. This had been culminating for 4 years and I finally just gave up. Career? never. Healthy diet? never. Friends? They already all left me so nothing’s gonna change ‘cause it hasn’t. Love? either I said I can’t ‘cause of my mental state or idk. Being happy? it hasn’t been possible.

I adopted a new phrase: Until death. It kept repeating in my head. I had a new set of goals and motivation in my life. My goal was to avoid being happy. It was to never seek love or really get anything serious, idk. My goal was never to get a better paying job, but get enough just to live on my own. Push everyone away, not get lied to by people’s flakiness. Be in a shitty apartment and watch my 30′s, 40′s, 50′s and maybe even 60′s alone. Eat junk food and clog my arteries as no one cares and everyone has forgotten me. What’s the use. I tried. I FUCKING TRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I couldn’t do it. After 4 years, I was alone, I had no social life, I couldn’t score a woman and I was too creepy to even get close to the first step, I had eaten junk food most of my life and it was affecting my mental and physical health, I couldn’t hold a job, I couldn’t advance because I couldn’t stay long enough, my mental health was blocking my success rate before I started telling people it was blocking my success rate, I was at odds with my parents, Missy was in Chicago, no matter what I did I just couldn’t progress. It wasn’t worth it. I just let it go. My life and my desire to be happy. And that was a commitment. Hard as it would be for my family to have to endure that, I didn’t do it for them. And they didn’t have to suffer. But they did.

Missy graduated the year we're talking about now. To preface that, the whole family had vacationed to New Orleans sometime.....2014? idk, but my mental state and circumstances had made me a recluse. My family was outgoing, talking with Uber drivers and the person kind enough to let us use their house instead of a hotel. They experienced New Orleans and were having fun. But not me. I was not fully there. I was withholding myself from participating. I was quiet. if you knew me when I was myself, I was the opposite of quiet and shy. But the darkness had just become me. I was barely participating, sitting away from people and not saying a word, focusing on rooting my phone and occasionally talking about it, not talking to humans outside of my family and not speaking with a sad, distant, vacant expression.

I learned something through my silence. Usually, if there were family problems, I’d be overly involved and not able to think straight ‘cause I’m thinking of all the perspectives and dividing my attention up multifold. I wasn’t like this in New Orleans. When I said nothing, I got to listen more; I got to see what I hadn’t seen all this time. Or at least what I didn’t bring into focus all my life. And that was more true sides of my family through their interactions. The fighting over nothing and people from different perspectives. The escalations and how my family just doesn’t understand each other. If anyone else is reading this but me, you can learn more than you can possibly imagine when you say little to nothing, sit back and let the conversation you normally are involved in happen in front of you. Don’t interact, just let it happen. Watch what you don’t pick up. Our compassion is valid; we can also get carried away and not notice what’s fully going on right in front of our faces.

Much changed from that much as I used to. Optimism is ideal in moderation, as is everything else. My father was so aperspective shift. I learned more about where we are as a family and I didn’t brush it under the rug as ngry that my standout silence and being a weird, burdensome stick in the mud of a family vacation was affecting everyone and our time together. Not to mention my sister moved out...........2013? I forget. She had been in Chicago so we don’t see her everyday. Things had changed. I had moved back, but for a small amount of time, mom and dad had the place to themselves. That part of your kids growing up and leaving. He confronted me angrily and I learned something else by what he said. You would think he would say something based on how I’ve prefaced this, but instead what uttered from is angry face was:

“Do you have any idea how much money I’ve spent?!”

Sometimes, maybe many times, the way you say something or the first thing you say reflects where your focus is at. I disagree this is always the case. But in that moment, I believe as a man whose life revolved around providing for his family for 20 years, became focused on that primarily. The man can love. The man loves him family incomprehensibly. Never doubt that. But I learned not only of his perspective but how men (traditionally and mostly) make their life’s purpose of providing....larger than love, communication and interaction. All of that is still there in my father at this point, but when it wasn’t, I learned why.

Back to the point, Missy was graduating. I had been at Jimmy John’s a bit and even though New Orleans was a while ago, I only got worse for vacations. And going to Chicago was..........terrible. My sister had always been a social butterfly and extravertive. Our personalities were now white and black. I didn’t know how to talk to people. I didn’t know how to socialize. I didn’t want to. I’d been burned so much that I forgot how to be a human being, and also tried not to be. The silence and seclusion as people were in my sister’s living room, talking, was bizarre. People would kindly ask me about me and raise small talk and I don’t remember how much I’d say if I said anything. I think I’d straight up ignore people. It was extremely awkward. I was introvertive, shy, quiet, ignoring and reserved like I was an extreme trauma victim or a mute (no offence meant to either an victim of a crippling trauma or mutes). My sister was in love and trying with this man that turned out to be an asshole. But at the time, my sister was showing me her life and a very important man in her life and I was just letting it pass me by. Was it as simple as just getting over it? Faking it and putting on a face? That, is the opposite of who I am, and I couldn’t just shake this off. I was alone for 4 years and upset about it. It changed me so much that you don’t just pull out of that. Who Matthew IS. PERIOD. at this point. IS. too far gone from who he really is and so deeply warped and shaped by his depression that who he IS is hopeless and functionless.

Her boyfriend got me a present. I practically said nothing. I watched my sister graduate. I don’t remember it. This is trauma. This has affected my caring, my memory and my attention span. I’m not myself or a functioning human. PSA: it is possible to get out of the habit of many things you don’t think you could get out of the habit of. Like social interaction, how to talk to people, react to things. It wasn’t the darkest point, but such a troublesome time. I was 99.9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999% darkness and 00.0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001% myself. There has always been a voice inside that never wanted this. That disagreed with the (verbal) self harm I’d convince myself. After a while, if you tell yourself the same thing, whether it’s good or destructive, you’ll believe it. You’ll trick you mind. Same thing with your environment. You become affected and accustomed to your environment to some extent. When you don’t realize it.

But this was never me. Me just got smaller. The darkness took over. The darkness was my Caretaker, which leads me to...

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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years ago

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Friends Don’t Kiss III - Jim Mason x Male!Reader

A/N: Hey y’all. I do wanna start by apologizing for taking so long for this chapter. I stopped writing it for this series for a bit because I wasn’t sure if you guys were enjoying it. But when I got some feedback and wanted to start writing I went on vacation + got really sick so here we are. So thanks to those who continued to hold me accountable for putting out part three.

Also it feels really satisfying to have this chapter out after trying to finish it since APRIL. So please don’t let this flop - Jim and his non-boyfriend boyfriend need the support because ANGST and problematic fathers continue in Part 4.

Summary: Jim and Y/N continue discovering themselves

Warnings: angst, smut (finally, right? I’m a sucker for a slow burn) probably other stuff like internalized homophobia, problematic parents.

Word Count: 3k (longest part to make up for the fact that i took so long?)

Cold, sterile air filled Y/N’s senses. The harsh fluorescent lights only added to his anxiety. He felt the most ill when stepping into a hospital. Nothing could pull his eyes off the sleeping boy; he watched as Jim’s chest rose and fell softly.

“You can get some rest, you know?” Medina asked from the doorframe. “Doctor said he’ll be up soon.” She didn’t step into the room, only lingered. Y/N always liked her. She was the type to call things like they were and never bend to anyone. He wished he were more like her.

“I’m okay,” he lied; he was far from okay and had been for a while now. Y/N couldn’t afford the luxury of worrying for himself - not when Jim was hospitalized. Because of him.

Beep, beep, beep

He thought the constant beeping of the monitor was taunting him. With each second that Jim didn’t wake up, the monitor would continue to drill into his head.

***

It began with the tips of his fingers and slowly spread throughout his body and mind; sobriety. Jim’s fingertips twitched, grasping at the thermal blanket. Is he waking up? He could begin to recognize the sounds around him. ‘I’ll go get my parents’. Medina.

Beep, beep, beep.

Even through groggy, medicated thoughts, the stiffness in the air and monitor beeping gave it away. Jim knew exactly where he was. Even if he couldn’t remember how he got there.

He squinted at the ceiling as the jarring light shone too brightly. He tried to get up and pull at his IV.

“Jim,” a cracked voice called to him. Y/N began standing up from the generic hospital chair, dark circles adorning beneath his eyes, “Stop! The doctor will be here soon,” he took a step towards the bed.

“Get the fuck out.. get out,” Jim rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand like if he were trying to erase the image in Y/N being there. It would hurt less. “I don’t wanna see you. Leave!” he started raising his voice.

“Jim, calm down. Please.” Y/N began to worry for his health in an agitated state. He raised his arms in a truce, “I’ll leave. Just.” he breathed out, heavily, “I was worried for you,”

“Bullshit!” tears started falling down Jim’s cheeks. He hadn’t even me conscious for ten minutes and he already wished he was under again. To be completely numb.

“I’ll let Medina know you’re up,” he hung his head low in shame. Even when all he wanted was to pick up the broken pieces he left, he couldn’t do it. Not now. He stalked to the door with one final look at Jim.

Jim looked out the window, unable to watch as his best friend walked away. He focused on the birds flying high in the sky, wishing he were them. To be free from the chains.

“Jim,” his head snapped towards the door.

Medina was hasty in her entrance. She had been here before. They all had. Nothing upset her more than seeing Jim like this. Perhaps their mother, doctors, or even Jim could believe he did this for a quick high. But she knew all the pain he was clawing through.

He could see it - hell, he could feel it. Feel the dread she carried into the room. “I want to leave.” he turned his attention back to the window.

“What happened Jim?” she had the courtesy of shutting the door behind her.

“Nothing.” his chest strained against the itchy linen of the hospital gown. “Just being stupid. You know this.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Medina walked over to bedside. Her hand hovered above his head, afraid on intertwining her fingers through his brown locks.

“Why was he here?” his voice sounded like glass breaking; a million words unsaid in the cracking of his voice.

Jim was too tired for a real answer. Answers he knew he didn’t want to hear - not now. All he wanted was to forget it.

Not just that night. If only he could forget the months spent in secrecy; the hidden brushing of hands and the stolen glances.

If only he could forget him.

***

Y/N had been sitting in his car for over an hour. He couldn’t make himself drive away - he didn’t know what to do or who he was.

He was guilty that much he was sure of. He carried the weight of Jim on his shoulders. The pressure of keeping him here. The insistence of the love he felt for him.

Love.

Y/N couldn’t admit, even to himself, that what he felt for Jim was love until something like this happened. He couldn’t have his silence - his fear, risk Jim again.

He risked a lot himself by admitting these feelings to himself. He could hear the gravelly voice of his father beating on the walls of his brain.

Rain began to pour down and he lost himself in the pitter patter of the droplets hitting the window. He wanted the rain to wash away the pain of yesterday.

Y/N rarely cried. If fact, most people wouldn’t be w me to imagine him crying in a million years. He put up a good front. Maybe so well that the mask he put on for the word was becoming a who he was.

But when the rain slowed and behind the clouds, a rainbow appeared he began to cry. He wasn’t aware that the bright colored arc in the sky had that impact on him until he felt warm tears stream down his eyes.

His secret, his shame, had almost cost Jim his life. Not once, but twice. He couldn’t bare it any longer. Like a sign from a high power or the universe or whatever it was, Y/N was ready.

You can never be ready for the unknown. He knew how life ran with his mask --but the unknown of how it would proceed once it came off scared him almost as much as the thought of losing his best friend.

Almost.

He fought hard against the knot in his throat and used the back of his hand to clear his face. The rain outside and tears in his eyes made him feel cleansed.

He wanted to let go.

***

Accusations and bickering back and forth was all that Jim heard on the drive home. He stared out the moving car, wishing he were anywhere else.

Hell, the hospital room felt more like a home than this.

Once home, his mother’s five foot frame looked up at him with a scold in her eye, She began questioning everything.

“Don’t you love me, Jimmy?”

“How could you do this to me?”

“What am I supposed to do if something happens to you? You know your asshole father -”

His head began ringing and spinning. He knew no matter what he answered it wasn’t going to be what she was looking for.

“Fuck!” he threw his head back, “I don’t wanna fucking--”

“James. You do not speak to me that way, young man.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” the smallest amount of pressure left as the words passed his lip. He didn’t care.

Not now.

“I don’t want to hear it, mom. It’s been a long fucking day and I want to go to bed.”

Sandy stood there with tears prickling her eyes as her son stormed off. Her once small boy now in the body of a lanky young man. She held on to being needed by her son. She survived off of the codependence.

Jim locked himself in his bathroom. He felt his own heavy gaze start back at him in the reflection. Tired, purple circles lined his eyes, his lips were cracked, skin sallow; he felt almost as bad as he looked.

He stepped into the shower allowing the hot water to burn his skin. “Fuck,” he groaned as the pulse hit his sore everything. His entire body ached.

But the physical pain he felt was numb compared to what he was feeling in his heart. He’d told Y/N to leave - which to his defense, Jim thought was what he should do.

Jim always bent his will to what others wanted. Beginning with his mother.

If he wanted loved me like I thought he did - like I love him; he’d show it. He thought with his eyes clenched shut.

Jim couldn’t be played with. Not again.

He’d barely recovered from the injuries he’s gotten at the party before hurt himself from passing out.

They say love makes you do stupid things, but Jim couldn’t justify his reckless behavior.

He’d never admit that is was in short, an impulsive cry for Y/N’s attention. A fatal one, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t glad it worked.

He cleaned up and laid in bed. It was going to be a restless night again. One with too many thoughts and unanswered questions.

The pillow cushioned his head softly as he hit the bed. No hospital cot could compare to the embrace his own bed held.

Three small taps to the door made him groan in frustration. Sure he hated his dad right now, but at least his father didn’t breath down his neck like his mother.

“Not now, mom.” he covered his head with the pillow.

The door knob rattled as they tried to open the door, “Shut up,” Medina whisper screamed to him, “Or you’ll wake her up. Just open the door.”

Annoyed, he went to answer the door. “What the f-” he was stopped cold seeing Medina was not alone.

Y/N stood there, standing tall over his sisters short frame. He wore the look of an apology on his face. Like if he were silently pleading to be heard out.

Medina put her hands up in a defensive position, “He came on his own.” she answered her twins unspoken question.

“Jim,” Y/N couldn’t recognize his own voice speaking. “Can we talk, please.” he didn’t let his eyes leave Jim’s.

Medina starts backing away slowly, leaving both boys to figure it out.

“Give me five minutes.” Y/N presses on when Jim fails to give him an answer.

“Five minutes,” Jim repeated, his jaw set.

Y/N followed Jim back in the room and shut the door. The tension was heavy in the room; thick enough to slice. Jim stood with his feet firm on the ground and arms crossed over his chest. It seemed as if he could protect his heart with his body language.

“I was really scared, Jim. I thought we -- I.. I thought I lost you.” Y/N didn’t know what to do with his hands as they awkwardly tugged at the bottom of his shirt.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure you were so worried.” he laughed humorlessly, rolling his eyes. “I’m tired of the mind games, Y/N.”

“You’re my best friend, Jim. Of course I worried.” Y/N continued. He knew Jim would be on the defense, but he was struggling to find the words to make his point. All he could do was tell Jim he cared.

“But friends don’t kiss, right Y/N?” Jim spat out, “Get the fuck out of here, man.”

“Would you just listen to me?” Y/N was exasperated. “I fucking care about you, Jim. More than a friend.” the words burned his tongue like a hot sin as they left his mouth.

“Well then fucking prove it,” Jim shouted back and shoved against the other boys chest, causing Y/N to stumble back. He was done with the mixed signals and hushing of the fondness they shared.

Y/N shoved Jim back harder, making the blue eyed surfer press into the wall. “You want me to prove it?” Jim felt a shiver run down his spine as Y/N’s both breath fanned over his face.

The words were caught in Jim’s throat. Caught by surprise, he didn’t expect this reaction from Y/N.

Jim shook his head silently, “You won’t” he gulped, “You’re too fucking scared.”

His eyes danced back and forth between Y/N’s lips and his pretty blown wide eyes.

Y/N grabbed Jim’s chin between his index finger and thumb, pulling his face up only to crash his lips harshly to his.

The kiss was nothing like the slow, hazy, tentative kisses they shared in secret. This kiss was heated and angry and sad. Y/N had the desperation to make Jim know he was ready.

He was ready to give Jim what he wanted.

Jim gasped into the kiss which only led to Y/N’s hungry teeth to sink into Jim’s plump bottom lip. His tongue slipped past the entrance of his mouth as he pushed Jim further into the wall.

Y/N pressed himself into Jim. All of him. His jeans rubbed into Jim’s sweatpants. His blood rushed down to his growing member as his lips assaulted Jim.

When he heard a raspy whimper escape between Jim’s smashed lips, he pulled away from the kiss.

Jim was flushed pink in his cheeks, trying to catch his breath. His tongue could taste the trace of Y/N on it.

He knew this kiss was different. Y/N was different. The wild look in his eyes replaced the guarded look he often carried.

“You act like you haven’t kissed me behind closed doors before.” Jim tested Y/N. He found his hand gravitating towards the other boys hardening cock. “Try something else.” He was almost sure Y/N would pull away. Pull away like he always did when things got too real.

Y/N caught Jim’s wrist before he could touch him. A smirk grew on Jim’s face as he thought his point was being proven right.

But Y/N wasn’t playing this time. He was all in.

He took Jim’s wrist and pinned it above his head on the wall. “You want me to fuck you?” he pinned Jim’s hip to the wall with his own.

“I’m not looking for you to fuck me out of pity because I took some pills and -”

He was shut up by another hard kiss. "I’m doing this because I want to. Because I want you.” he mumbled.

Y/N took Jim’s hips and spun him to face the wall, “You’re not pretending?” Jim’s voice was small. It was the first time that evening he allowed his walls to crumble for Y/N yet again.

“No.” he let his nose trace over the back of Jim’s neck. He pressed his crotch on Jim’s ass, “Does this feel like I’m pretending, baby.” the pet name was so foreign; he didn’t know what made him say it.

But it made Jim blush further

“H-have you ever --”

“Shh,” Y/N hushed him. “I’m ready if you are.”

Jim turned back around and kissed his best friend.

“I already told you; prove it.”

Y/N reached for Jim’s waistband, pulling down his sweatpants and underwear to reveal his own hardening cock. This was Y/N’s first time being to intimate with a cock that wasn’t his own. He took mental photos of each curve and vein of Jim’s lengthy shape.

His hand wrapped around the base, watching Jim for any cue he could offer.

Y/N began to jerk Jim as if it were his own. He felt Jim pulse in his hand as he pumped him more and more.

Jim’s jaw was slack and a quiet moan left him.

Both boy stumbled away from the wall as their hands roamed and explored each other. Y/N crashed on to the and immediately, Jim began to rid him of his pants.

Jim’s mouth watered at the sight of a naked Y/N. Without warning, he lowered his head on to Y/N’s cock and covered him in his saliva.

“It’s so big..” Jim traced the head with his tongue.

He wrapped his lips around his cock and began sucking him. He hallowed his cheeks and watched as the blood drained from Y/N’s face.

“J-Jim..” he moaned gripping on to the bedsheet. “Jim,” he pulled Jim’s hair to get him to detach himself from his cock.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” he voice was strained because god he wanted Jim to keep going. But he didn’t want to cum yet. Not when he hadn’t even been inside him.

Heat rushed to Jim’s face (and his veiny cock). He quickly, and clumsily, climbed over Y/N. He nestled on his thighs, relishing in the feeling of their naked bodies pressed together.

His cock brushed against Y/N’s making them both antsier.

“D-do you have.. lube or..” Y/N was breathing heavy as he let the sentence hang.

Jim let out the first genuine laugh is days, “Y/N.. I.. who would I be using lube with? You’re the only person I..”he lets the laughter take over and collapses on to his chest, and rests his forehead against Y/Ns.

Jim’s laughter is contagious and soon enough he is joined by Y/N.

“I guess you’re right.” he chuckled again pushing Jim’s hair back. “So much for our first time.” he bit his lip. The use of the word “our” made it seem real to him.

They stayed like that for a while. Simply feeling the presence of each other with no rush.

“You really meant what you said?” Jim asked quietly, after a moment of silence. “Because, I don’t think I can get my hopes again.. only to be hurt, Y/N.”

“I’m so sorry, Jim.” he kissed Jim’s forehead. “I mean it. I’m ready. I scared as hell, but I’m ready.” as he spoke the words, his fathers face entered his mind.

Jim yawned, but didn’t move an inch off of Y/N.

“Will you stay with me? Just for tonight?”

“Of course,” Y/N replied, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

Jim rolled off of him and slipped his boxers back on, tossing Y/N his pair. Both men, laid in Jim’s bed, facing the ceiling.

Jim was afraid to cuddle up to Y/N. Afraid of doing the wrong thing. His pinky finger gently nudged Y/N’s hand.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Jim whispered.

“Me too.” Y/N replied quietly.

thank you so much! for reading! and waiting on this part!

because the first two parts (part one // part two) were pretty heavy on the angst, i decided to wrap this one up on a softer note -- but keep in mind, there is more in store for these two and y/n’s dad isn’t going to be too happy. yee.

tagging: @1-800-bitchcraft @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @mega-combusken

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