#in the situation where delores was also in hit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

in-tua-deep · 3 years ago

Note

idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

#survivors au #well adjusted five au #five actually has some social skills!#and an idea of what an actual parent looks like as well #klaus absolutely adores this version of five #who quotes vines and uses gen z slang with the best of them #five has been reliably informed that public education is worse than the apocalypse #but he's also pretty sure working with his family is worse as well #five: i have so much trauma lol #klaus: oh big same #vanya: mood #five is somehow the most well adjusted hargreeves #and the most responsible #he doesn't legally exist and he doesn't pay taxes but somehow he has his shit together #five showing up at rick's house: you don't know me but i know you in the future #rick: what the fuck #five: don't make me bring up bethany midler from highschool because you gave me so many embarrassing stories to convince yourself with #rick: okay okay i believe you and you are???#five: your son from the future lol what's up dad want to help save the world #five arriving back at the manor like: WHAT'S UP LOSERS RICK IS NOW YOUR DAD TOO BC GOD KNOWS Y'ALL NEED AN ACTUAL FATHER FIGURE #klaus calls rick a dilf and five kidney punches him hard enough that klaus can't even properly introduce himself #it's better for everyone that way #delores: 15 and ready to fuck someone up #delores: i'm not staying with this weirdo (diego) while you go off with my dad #five threateningly: don't make me bring up what really happened to dad's good suit in 2012 #delores: i will stay right here #rick: wait WHAT happened to my good suit #five: unimportant don't you want to save the world #long post #far tua long

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thewatermelloncat · 4 years ago

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Unimaginable Things (Part 1)

Summary: The Hargreaves siblings have never really gotten along, but now they need to more than ever with the apocalypse looming. And with Five’s immune system compromised from time travel, hopefully they can come together to help him because if they can’t, what chance do they have of standing together against their impending doom?

Author’s Note: I wrote this fanfiction over a year ago now, but I wanted to post something Umbrella Academy related after just finishing Season 2, though I’m still waiting for inspiration to strike. I thought this might do nicely in the meantime as a bit of nostalgia, going back to the days I only specialised in sicifcs. How far we’ve come…

Warnings: This loosely follows the storyline of SEASON 1, so it contains SPOILERS for around EPISODE 3.

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Hours upon hours of watching and waiting for any sign of life to disappear into MeriTech is starting to wear on him. Five arches his shoulders in an attempt to crack the stiffness out of his back then settles back down into the driver’s seat, bracing his elbow on the door below the window. He pulls his wrist up to sniffle wetly into his sleeve and grimaces as he swallows at the ache in his throat. Now is really not the time to be getting sick, he knows that.

He also knows that the headache he is sporting now isn’t only brought on by the time travel. It hurt to hold his eyes up straight ahead, so he settles for leaning his head back against the window feeling the cool glass on his skin and allowing his gaze the flow under his dark lashes.

Beginning to zone out and almost tipping towards the threat of sleep, he observes as a group of kids his age, well he would appear to be their age, walk in front of the van. He hates to admit it, he has a far greater purpose than partaking in immature and juvenile activities, but he is jealous that he missed out on the rest of his childhood. Well his childhood in general.

Pain spikes in his head and he draws his eyes away, closing them tightly. When he opens them again, he can no longer see the street. Buildings had toppled over, their rubble spilling over the roads and pavements. Fires around him intensify the heat of his fever. That must be it, he couldn’t be back. It must be some kind of fever dream - but he didn’t think he was that sick.

Maybe the Handler found him a brought him back here as a punishment for escaping her. He turns around his breath grating rapidly through his chest in panic, but he can’t see her, he can’t see anyone. Panic consumes him and he starts to yell something out before a faint voice calls something to him, drawing him back.

Gasping in a breath, the smoke of the apocalypse clears away. “Five?” he turns to Luther calling his name from outside, knocking on the door. He withdraws his gaze and looks straight ahead, trying to compose himself as his brother struggles to fit into the car.

“You okay?” Luther asks, leaning back in the too small seat.

“You shouldn’t be here” Five snarls. He needed to be alone for this. “How did you find me?”

Five follows Luther’s eyes to the rear-view mirror seeing Klaus’s reflection dancing in the back of the van with Delores. “Hey guys a little privacy, we’re already hitting it off back here” Klaus whines before dodging the empty coffee cup Five throws at him.

“Get out! You can’t be here, I’m in the middle of something!” he wouldn’t have missed if his head didn’t hurt so badly.

Klaus ignores him as he comes up to kneel behind his brothers. “Any luck finding your one-eyed man?”

“What’s he talking about?” Luther interrupts shooting Five a confused look.

“Doesn’t matter it’s Klaus” Five dismisses. “What do you want Luther?”

“Uh, so Grace may have had something to do with Dad’s death. So, I need you to come back to the Academy” Luther explains. “It’s important.”

“It’s important” Five repeats in a mocking tone, “you have no concept of what’s important.”

He zones out looking out through the window at passing cars thinking about how inconvenient this situation is. It’s only when Luther mentions that Klaus should leave the van that he returns to the conversation. “Luther’s got a point you can get out” he affirms much to his brother’s annoyance.

“Fine!” Klaus shouts as he slams the door and wonders off.

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“What are you up to Five?” Luther demands looking back to his brother in the driver’s seat.

“Believe me you wouldn’t understand” Five discards quickly.

“Try me. Last time I checked I was still the leader of this family.”

“Well last time I checked, I’m 28 years older than you” Five defends, allowing a patronising tone seep into his voice.

“You know what your problem is?” Luther lowers his voice.

“I’m really hoping you’ll tell me” Five says his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You think you’re better than us. You always have. Even when we were kids.” The pauses between Luther’s sentences put Five on edge. “But the truth is you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. We’re all you have. And you know it.”

“I don’t think I’m better than you are, I know I am.”

Luther huffs and smiles shaking his head to himself.

If only he could see the things Five has done, then he’d understand. “I’ve done unimaginable things, things that you couldn’t even comprehend.”

“Right” Luther passes over.

“Just to get back and save you all” Five finishes in time for Klaus to run out of the store arms full of his stolen goods.

“Hey bitches!” he yells at them as he runs across the street.

“I’m starting to wonder if that was the wisest decision” Five wants to blame it on him not feeling well, but he knew even then he and Luther should have known it was a terrible idea to leave Klaus unsupervised.

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The boots Allison wore echo every step as she paces throughout the lounge. She hadn’t expected a quick trip, especially not with Klaus involved, but she had thought that they’d have brought Five back sooner.

She sighs in relief when she hears the main door open and a group of footsteps make their way through the hallway. Hurrying out under the archway she makes her way towards the base of the stairs to greet them.

“HaRIsshoo!” a harsh sneeze sounds from around the corner where she can’t see.

“Bless you” she condemns as Luther steps into view.

“That wasn’t me” he dismisses as Five appears from behind him, nose still buried in the crook of his arm.

Allison draws her head back, eyebrows lifting in surprise. Thinking, how could a sound so strong come from something so small? Then she has to remind herself that he isn’t actually 13 anymore. But he looks so small now with his reddish nose and unnaturally slumped posture. Luther catches her looking at Five in concern and returns her with a knowing look of his own.

“Everyone else is in the lounge” she says without thinking, her eyes still looking into Luther’s. She’s vaguely aware of Klaus muttering that he needs a drink and brushing past them toward the bar.

“I’m going upstairs to do more calculations” Five mumbles, not looking at either of the glances his brother and sister give him, before heading slowly up the stairs.

Allison looks back at Luther as he watches Five disappear. By the way he doesn’t object to his leaving she assumes he doesn’t mind his sudden absence. Knowing that Five isn’t keen on attending the meeting anyway, Luther figures that it’s probably best to leave him alone considering he’s getting sick. He could be irritable even when he was healthy.

Part 2

#umbrella acedmy #five hargreeves #five #the boy #sickfic #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves

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smileitwillgetbetterbitches · 5 years ago

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Okay so I know we all love to joke that no one in the Hargreeves family has any brain cells, which honestly is hilarious and let's not stop, but I feel like they have tons of brain cells, but like not in the right places.

Like Luther is obviously a genius, he was up on the moon for four years conducting research that requires a lot of scientific knowledge, but I also feel like he’s the kind of dude to have no idea how to crack an egg. You can ask him the correct formula for a rocket launch, the current phase of the moon, the angle the sun hits the moon, and he could respond without hesitation. But ask him what a cake is made out of? What the nearby coffee shop is?? Literally, people consider basic knowledge??? Ask somebody else dude his head is filled with facts but not on what you're looking for.

Diego? He knows the math it takes to perfectly guess where his throws are going. He knows how to read and assess enemies in real life and in the boxing ring. Can anticipate people’s moves and react accordingly. But then actually knows nothing about how human emotions work and probably doesn’t know that calling someone a shitbrain will hurt their feelings. Patch once said “I love you” to him and he threw himself out a window. He is a huge dumbass who saw a metal mask and thought “Ah, I should headbutt this”

Allison is probably the smartest when it comes to people. But you think that girl knows how to apply for a job? You think she knows how to pay taxes?? You think she knows what it’s like to deal with an angry customer when its 9pm and your shift ends in five minutes??? She has no real-life work experience lets be honest but on the flip side she’s an actress, so she probably has a wide variety of different professions and ways people react so she can replicate that. She’s also known to be a really good detective, so like she knows her way around a library and has basic people reading skills.

Klaus, oh Klaus is a dumbass through and through. He’s seen doing stupid ass things all the time. But like, he is the person to know those weirdly specific facts that no one ever cares about. He doesn’t realize staying in an active war zone cause you saw a cute guy is probably not the best idea, but he can tell you how many calories you burn by smashing your head against a wall for an hour. (Btw the answer is 150 calories) He eats a dirty bagel out of a dumpster that is probably chocked full of germs without hesitation but he does know that a hummingbird can flap his wings 70 times in a second. If stopping the apocalypse was all about random facts that no one cares about? It would be stopped within a minute.

Five is considered a genius, he knows complex mathematic formulas and the secret to time travel and how to best kill a dude, but he is lost when it comes to everyday things. Dealing with people? He’s an idiot he’s never around people for most of his life because he was stuck in an apocalypse. The first time he sees someone cries he literally has no idea what to do. Comforting people? Nope, he’s lost. You think he didn't freak out the first time he saw a train? What about when his siblings roped him into celebrating Halloween or Thanksgiving? He’s out of his depth there. But you want to know how to travel in time and how to best kill someone with a pen? You want to know Delores's favorite color? Want to know if twinkies really do last forever? He’s your guy.

Ben, sweet little Ben. He was so smart, so sensible, then he had to spend a decade or two with Klaus and now his logic is reduced to saving Klaus from dangerous situations and longing to go see the ocean. Like he’s probably nodding along to every dumbass thing Klaus does. “We're going to go rob this store because Luther and Five were mean to you? Hell yeah we are, let’s go.” Klaus and Ben are the best dumbass duo and you can’t change my mind. But also like, Ben is the smartest in a way? Like he knows that people can take life for granted and he’s always encouraging Klaus not to? I feel like he’s very in touch with his feelings and would host family therapy nights when he can become corporal where he literally gets to the root of everyone's problems within seconds.

Vanya is fairly smart, but that girl has been on emotion suppressing drugs since she was FOUR people. She has no idea how to process emotions other than literally blowing up the moon. But when it comes to everything else? She’s the most grounded in reality. She understands how the world works, how to get a job, how to buy a house, how to make money. She lives a normal life, meaning she does know how to function. She could probably teach the rest of their lessons on how to live normally. And violins! She can teach little kids how to do that, meaning she’s really good at dealing with kids and explaining things. And like, Shes amazing at the violin so she probably knows everything violin related too.

In conclusion, the apocalypse didn’t happen because they all are super dumb, it happened because they are all super smart, but like in the wrong ways. So the Hargreeves all collectively have a single brain cell for each of them, it’s just a very small very specific brain cell that bounces around their heads like the windows icon and when it hits a corner they can actually think a helpful thought.

#The Umbrella Academy #Luther Hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #Diego Hargreeves #Klaus Hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #THis was not meant to be as long as it is #I am so sorry for making you read this #or if you didn't I really dont blame you #it's 3am what am I doing

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joannie95 · 5 years ago

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Legacy Part- 24

Pairing: Carter! reader x ?????

Summary: Everyone knows Peggy Carter is a force to be reckoned with, who could have guessed her granddaughter would hold the same ferocity, if not more.This story follows y/n Carter’s life as she faces the obstacles life pitches her.

A/N: I try to do as much research about Alzheimer’s to get everything as accurate as I can, so if there is something that seems incorrect I am so sorry I hope I don’t offend anyone if anything is incorrect

A/N: So maybe the website I used was wrong but when I looked up Peggy’s brother it showed that Sharon is also his great niece, that didn’t make sense to me because wouldn’t he be her grandfather? So I decided to create a sister for Peggy, Delores “Dot” Louise Carter and she will be Sharon’s grandmother.

Warnings: Angst, talk of Alzheimer’s and forgetfulness caused by it

Story assisted by @welldonebeca proofread by @hermionie-is-my-queen and thank you to @sarahp879 for helping me figure out the correct accent to use

You were able to convince Nick to let Darcy take a short leave after some persuasion, and your younger friend had just joined you for dinner with your grandmother.

“How has everything been going since I’ve been gone?” Darcy looked up at you as she chopped the last of the vegetables.

“It’s been ok,” you grabbed some dishes from the cabinet above you. “Grandma hasn’t been forgetting things as often and when she does, it’s usually the little things, and occasionally she calls me by mom’s name. That’s always a little difficult.“ You walked to the table, mindlessly setting it. “I just try to go with it as much as possible, the last thing I’d want to do is upset her about it.”

Darcy opened her mouth, ready to answer when your grandmother walked in.

“Dot, is dinner almost ready?” She seemed to stop in her place once she saw you and Darcy. “Oh, hello. I’m sorry I didn’t know we had a guest.”

It took you a second to figure out who Dot was and when it hit you, you felt an immense pain in your chest. She thought you were her sister Dolores.

“I’m sorry I forgot to tell you, this is my American friend Darcy,” you said, trying to keep your best South London accent. “I met her when I was in New York. She and her family were in the area so I invited her for dinner.”

Darcy looked at you for a second and you saw the sadness in her eyes as she furrowed her brows before putting on a calm expression.

“Hi, it’s so good to meet you,” She tried to sound cheerful, but you could make out a hint of hurt behind it. “Dot has told me so much about you.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you as well, Darcy.” You saw a look of joy from just meeting your friend. “Please have a seat, I’ll get you a drink. How are you liking London?”

“It’s wonderful, it’s a nice change from New York.”

That was how the rest of your dinner continued. You acted as if you were your great aunt Dolores to appease your grandmother’s current state of mind, and Darcy just went along with it, you wish she never had to be apart of that.

“Should we talk about what just happened?” Darcy questioned you when you were alone, handing you the dirty dishes.

"We can talk about it once we leave.”

The situation was normal for you but she’d never experienced anything like that before. Once everything was cleaned the two of you joined your grandmother in the living room. You wanted to be careful in case she wasn’t back to herself just yet.

“Grandma?"

She looked up from the book she was reading.

You smiled at her when you saw the look of recognition on her face.

"Darcy and I are gonna get going and let you get some sleep.” You each walked up to her, gave her a hug and said your goodbyes before leaving to go back to your apartment.

The car ride was very quiet and once you were home Darcy let out a deep breath.

“That was intense, I don’t know how you can deal with that. It hurt that she didn’t recognize me, I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”

You dropped onto your couch and put your feet up.

“Honestly, it’s really hard, and it hurts so much, but I can’t make this about me. When my parents died she dropped everything to take care of me, and now it’s my turn to take care of her. If that means going along with acting like whoever she thinks I am, then so be it.”

She sat next to you and pulled you into a hug.

“If you ever need anything you call me and I’ll be here. Always.”

You were grateful to have her as a friend but most importantly as a sister.

The rest of the week went by in the blink of an eye. Darcy had to get back to her base and you returned to work. Phil had been avoiding you all day and you weren’t sure why, but you managed to corner him in his office.

You cross your arms and stare him down.

"Alright Phil what’s your deal.“

"I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He averted his eyes, looking everywhere but at you.

“Oh don’t play dumb with me, I know you’ve been avoiding me so just tell me now because you know I’ll find out one way or another."

You could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest and see the sweat dripping down his face. You heard him mumble something, he may have thought you didn’t hear him but you did and you were beyond mad.

You marched into the training room, in the far corner you saw her sparring with two other rookies. You made your way to them and gave the two rookies a look that told them to get the hell out of your sight. They both stopped what they were doing and ran out.

"You really can’t let me have anything to myself can you Sharon. Everything I have, everything I do you need to take for yourself.”

“Excuse me but-” she started talking before you interrupted her.

“No. I talk you listen. Why are you even here? You showed no interest in SHIELD until you heard I wanted to take part in it. This is my family’s legacy, and you. You’re not even a Carter. You took the name because all you cared about was where that name would get you.” You may have been a bit harsh but you didn’t care. You’ve put up with her long enough. “Your grandma Delores Louise Carter married Richard Elsner. Your mother married Christopher Miller, you gave up your last name and took mine, just like you took everything else. Do you really think you belong here?"

You turned around and started to walk away when you sensed she was gonna go in for a punch. You turned around and blocked it, grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. You turned, wrapped your arm around her neck and flipped her over your shoulder. You pinned her down. She struggled but you didn’t budge.

"Don’t mess with me, because I promise you’ll regret it.”

Legacy Tags:

@agentmarvel13 @1v-kayla @5sos-wdw @a-dancing-hufflepuff @annoylinglyaries @avngrsinitiative @bradfordsgreekgod @babypink224221 @captainam-erika-trash @carisi-sonny @chook007 @cosmiccomicloverqueen @daniellajocelyn @doctoranon @ecamille-xo @editsbyjenny @ellieababy @futuremissstark @gummiwormsandonedirection @henrietteoaks @hermionie-is-my-queen @ineedmorefanfics @isabella-bby @jaemingold @junitorials13 @katykyll @klanceiscannon14 @littlephoenix-fire @lovemarvelousfics @l0kisbitch @ludwigvonbaethoven @maddie-laufeyson @magnificentsoulecollector @mikariell95 @mistressoftorture @moli1497 @nanajaeminniee @orderoftheflamingflamingos @paintballkid711 @pastelpurplexoox @princessizzy36 @shallowshawn @sillydecoy @spodermanpete @starstruckgardenstudentzonk @stuckyandsciencebros @thatweirdchick147 @tienna-laufeeyson16 @wishiwasanavenger @xalinx @zaza-jones @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash

#peggy carter x reader #peggy carter x you #peggy carter x y/n #Avengers #avengers imagine #avengers fanfiction #avengers series #avengers x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #marvel #legacy

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deloresisout · 4 years ago

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@pcplarstreet said : 💢 Also for Juliette :) Delores Sees Your Muse Bruised! || Accepting!

DELORES DID NOT TALK HEAVILY, Juliette knew that and would sometimes allow the inevitable silence to settle into something comfortable. Yet here and now, the silence between them was not a silence that was easy, natural... and that itself spoke volumes. Delores watched people among them - men, women, teenagers, going about their lives. Shopping, laughing, interacting. She does not look to see what Juliette is doing, nor does she look at the growing bruise peaking under her arm sleeve. She had stared at it enough. Delores thought that it was as though someone gripped Juliette with all their might as if she were a child, in need of control. In need of discipline.

Delores was not raised in a household where women were beaten. Her grandfather raised his hand against his former lover, yes, but it was a tense moment in which she had crossed lines and he could not maintain his composure. She would refrain from calling the old man a ‘feminist,’ but he doubtlessly had a degree of respect for his female peers. After all, his wife was more powerful and vocal than him from what she understood about her family history. Delores was now in an environment where women were tossed, smacked, disciplined. Just like children. She would never forget the sight of Ilaria De Luca being tossed from her seat when her husband heard something he didn’t care for. And what could Delores do about such a situation? Nothing. Ilaria told her to forget about it. She was conflicted as to whether to even tell Sal. She did not know the ‘rules’ of telling on husbands - let alone if there were any silent, unspoken rules to follow when married into the Cannizaro Family. However, among her own friend Delores is in a possession of power to do something rather than be the ‘passive outsider.’ She did not know precisely what she would do - yet, she knew it would be something all the same.

“How long has your husband been hitting you?” The question is sharp. Not something ideal to shatter silence with.

#VERSE I. / THE MEASURE OF ONE'S LIFE. (FLASHBACK)#PCPLARSTREET. / JULIETTE.

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bapyess1r · 4 years ago

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Amphetamine

WARNINGS: cursing, age difference, fluff, angst

CHAPTER 9

Talia’s POV

“Tali… look at me.” He said as I spun around in the passenger seat of his boat. I avoided his gaze when he approached me. He stood between my legs and cupped my face with his large hands. “Baby, I-”

“I know… And I understand…. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.” I replied. I stared at the water a while before getting the courage to look him in the eyes. They shone rather brightly from the sun. He shot me a smile so handsome it made my heart wrench.

“You have so much here to keep yourself busy until I get back. You have the band at your disposal, you have classes to teach, you’ll have the keys to the house so you can use the punching bag in the backyard if you ever want to hit something…” he began to list all of the things to keep me busy and I took a deep breath to keep myself from crying. “I’ll be back before you know it. It’ll be like I never even left.” He said. I sighed, resting my hands on his wrists as he pulled my head to his.

“How long is this one?” I asked, nonchalantly.

“Two weeks at best. And if anything changes, you’ll be the first to know. Okay, sweetheart?” He said slowly, kissing my lips and then my temple. “Now let’s enjoy the rest of the day, hm?”

I remembered that day. Sam had gotten a call from his pal Chloe. I never met her but I remembered her from his stories. They were on a job in India. He agreed to do some recon and be her decoy for her in her search for Ganesh’s Tusk. When he told me about it, I couldn’t even imagine how a journey like that would go. I figured it had to be the most adrenaline fueling thing. I couldn’t wait until Sam would tell me I was ready to accompany him but I also didn’t want to die so I would stay behind and train my hardest until that day.

I had woken up earlier than usual. It was 7:00 am. We would usually jog around this time. The sun had barely come up yet so I put on my jogging gear and threw my hair up in a ponytail. I readied my iPod for running music when I noticed my Godfather sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away at his laptop. He smiled at me and I approached him with a hand on his shoulder. “You’re up early, Goddaughter.” He said placing his warm hand over mine.

“Usually am. Sam and I go running around this time. Just because he’s gone that doesn’t stop me.” I said with a slight frown, patting his shoulder. I leaned on the side of the table as we continued to chat.

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately.” He said, continuing to write his report. I hadn’t really told my Godparents I had been seeing Sam in the romantic way. Not that I didn’t want to, it just never crossed my mind to tell when things got serious.

“Uh… yeah.” Was all I could muster.

“I hope he’s treating you right.” He said suddenly, surprising me. “I’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

“You knew?” I laughed nervously.

“I’m on the force for a reason, Talia Alyssa. Just like I know you’re trying to train to go with him on his next job.” He told me, his eyes never leaving the screen. “I can’t say I’m too happy about it.”

“Well it’s not for you to decide. Matter of fact, I don’t think it’s any of your business-” I mumbled, fidgeting with the tangled earbuds in my hands.

“So what do you expect me to tell Dave and Delores if anything happens to you?” He said, glancing at me a moment. I flinched at the mention of my parents. “‘Oh uh hey Dave, your daughter- my Goddaughter is out traipsing the globe with an ex-convict, want me to tell her to send you a postcard?!’-”

“It’s too early for this bullshit…” I chuckled, shaking my head in an annoyed fashion as he tried to pick a fight. He was always like this. I was the apple of his eye until I did something he didn’t approve of. Then he’d berate me into years. He always knew just what to say to blow my mood. I tucked my earbuds and started to head for the door.

“We’re gonna have to talk about this some time, Talia!” He said running his fingers through his short sandy blonde hair.

“Yeah- well it doesn’t have to be now.” I said numbly, raising the volume on my music as I walked out the door. With that, I began to run.

I pushed myself during my morning workout, all the way to the hill where Sam and I would stop to watch the sunset. My Godfather had found a way to work my nerves again and I laid out on the grass to call the one who could soothe my restless mind. My mother. The phone rang and rang for a while. It was still early so she could’ve been sleeping still. But when she finally answered, I almost wanted to cry. “Mommy…” I choked. Hot tears ran down the sides of my face, mixing in with the sweat. I sobbed softly on my end.

“He did it again, huh?” I heard her sigh in annoyance. “I’m gonna have a talk with him because he’s been doing this far too often and I'm not okay with that.” She rambled. “What did he get all pissy about this time?”

“I fell for an older man and now I’m suddenly training to travel the world.” I blurted. I was afraid of how she’d react.

“How old is he?”

“42…” I mumbled.

“That’s not… awful. It’s a little older than I’d like but you’re approaching 30 in a few short years-”

“My thoughts exactly. And he’s ridiculously handsome and funny. And he’s so smart… he’s a historian slash….collector of antiquities….” I began to gush about him to her.

“A historian? Wow! Your tastes have certainly changed.”

“He’s not like the stuffy kind though. He’s… different… And I’m learning a lot really! He specializes in Pirates...”

“Well that’s good! And you’re traveling the world now?” She asked, sounding impressed.

“Not yet but I’m training for it…”

“You have to train to get on a airplane?” She asked and I chuckled. My mom was adorable.

“No, mama. His work requires a lot of scaling and… hiking…” I lied. I knew if I told her about the guns and such she’d disapprove. And I’d never hear the end of it. “I like to say I’m dating Indiana Jones.” I smirked. Just as I stood up to go home, the sun rose above the clouds, painting the skies orange and pink as I heard her positive laughter on the other end.

“Oh lord… When do you get to go?”

“When he declares me ready enough. He’s away on a job right now so I’m doing solo training in the meantime…” I began to start down hill.

“Where do you think you’ll go?” She asked me as I decided to walk home instead of run, to spend time on the phone with my mom. I told her everything about him. Laid it all out on the table. Even about his jail time. The short brief version that Sam had given me so she knew it wasn’t his fault.

I concluded my conversation with my mother at the docks where I had my morning smoke. “You’ll talk to dad about it right? I don’t want Godfather James to go blabbing to him about me dating an ex-convict half my age.” I said rolling my eyes.

“I’ll talk to him. We all know he’s been prone to spinning the truth a little…”

“Thank you!” I sighed in relief.

“So other than this situation… you’re okay?” As she spoke, I noticed The Morgan rocking gently on the waves as it was docked and smiled to myself.

“I can honestly tell you that I’ve never been happier.”

“Good. I’m glad. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Yeah it has… Well I gotta go now. I’ve got a lot to do today…”

“Alright, monkey. You need to call me more often. I don’t know what’s goin’ on down there, yknow? I love you.” She said in her motherly voice.

“I know. I love you too, ma. Talk to you later.”

With that, I hung up and started on my fresh pack of cigarettes. As I placed one between my lips and lit it, I received a voicemail from an unknown number. I furrowed my brows as I hit play and pressed and let it play out in my earphones.

“Hey, darlin’, it’s me…” it began and I ceased all movement. I could hear Sam’s raspy Boston accented voice loud and clear. “I miss you so so much and I wish you were here with me. You’d love it. The grass is green, the water is the clearest blue, and the flowers are...small and purple but uh… vibrant nonetheless.” His voice almost brought me to tears. I missed him so much. He’d only been gone a week but it felt like forever. “The job is going as planned. Might’ve hit a snag for a second but we pulled through.” He sounded tired. I hoped he was getting enough rest. “Now, just because I’m not there right now, I hope you’ve been training and taking care of yourself. Um….” I heard him blow a raspberry on the other end and I chuckled, finally taking a drag of my cigarette that had just been burning this whole time. I could just hear him smiling on the other end, wherever he was. “I can’t wait to get back to you… I’m gonna video call you tonight so be near your laptop, mmkay? I gotta go now. Um… take it easy, be safe driving if you go anywhere, have a good class if you’re teaching today, have a successful rehearsal….. aaand I’ll talk to you soon, sweetheart. Drake out!” I smiled to myself, cringing at the last bit. He could try so hard to be “cool” sometimes when he didn’t need to be. But I liked it. It made me laugh.

My day was dreary to say the least. I taught a kids ballet class and a teens hip hop class scheduled for this morning and this evening. It was hard to pay attention all day and it made classes a little rough today. I wasn’t on the ball. When I came home, I sat in my car to roll a blunt and smoke for a little bit. I stared at Sam’s empty house and sighed. I wanted him back home, that’s for sure. I missed his hugs, his voice, the corny jokes, and the way he smelled. Whilst I sat there, stoned out of my mind, I had a thought. I quickly tapped out the blunt and grabbed my dance bag before running to Sam’s. I let myself inside and I fought back a sob. Feeling embarrassed about it I made my way to his fridge and stole the bottle of scotch he was always drinking. I never saw the appeal in it but he always looked damn good drinking it. I popped the top off and took a sip before sealing it and placing it in my bag. Then I made my way to his room. It smelled like him. Cologne, cigarettes, and beer. I opened up his closet to browse his range of tee shirts and bold Hawaiian prints before my eyes landed on a black crew neck sweater and a dark plaid button down shirt. Immediately I snatched them and a random blue graphic tee off the hangers. “Well shit, hun. Maybe you do have some taste.” I said to myself. On my way out, I grabbed the blanket we used to wrap up in when we watched TV and one of his books from his shelf. The one I always tried to read when I came over but he would always scoop me in his arms and tell me how good I looked reading. Almost always ending up in sex so I could never continue. Smirking, I tucked the thick book under my arm and turned to leave.

That night after my shower, the first thing I put on was Sam’s plaid shirt. As I sat on my bed, I turned the TV on and dried my hair, setting up my laptop for Sam to call. I went downstairs to ask my Godmother if she needed any help with the kids but she told me she was fine so with a disappointed look I said my “okay” and returned upstairs with snacks to keep watching TV. I changed the channels a few times when I didn’t like what came on. That’s when I stopped on a channel playing Raiders of the Lost Ark. I chuckled as I grabbed my snacks from my mini fridge and the bottle of scotch. I was actually enjoying myself and for once didn’t feel like shit. That’s when I heard a ping from my laptop. It was a message from Sam.

Cap’nDrake: You awake, Princess?

I cackled at his username for a moment before responding.

Tali_Sc0res: Your username is ridiculous.

Cap’nDrake: Well I’m not changing it.

My laptop let out a little twitter as he requested a video call. Immediately, I got up to close my door and mute my TV. I adjusted my hair and let his shirt hang off my shoulder a bit before answering. Suddenly, he appeared on screen from his desk, his upper body covered by a thin white tank, reading glasses perched at the bridge of his nose, cigarette smoke exiting his nostrils as he ran his fingers through his wet hair. The scar above his eyebrow that always seemed to get reopened was covered by a bandage but other than that, he seemed fine. I smiled brightly as I watched him put away some maps and close up some books. “Heya, sweetheart!” He grinned warmly as he pulled the glasses from his face. I pouted a bit as he did so as he bit his lip, taking in my entire appearance. “My god, you look delicious- is that my shirt?!” He asked, narrowing his eyes to get a better look at me.

“Maybe.” I replied as I scrunch my face and take a large sip of scotch.

“You raided my house?” He chuckled, rubbing his hand across the stubble on his face. “That miserable, huh?” He could read me very well.

“Honestly… I think I’m handling you being gone pretty well. Today I just… My Godfather pissed me off early as hell in the morning and I really just wanted to be with you.” I sighed, thinking about the conversation I had with him this morning.

“What’s little Jimmy bitchin’ about now?” He didn’t sound worried one bit as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“He found out about us and he didn’t hesitate to tell me how much he didn’t like it.” I said, taking a long sip of scotch, the burn feeling much better than my current emotions.

“Aye aye! Take it easy, sister. That stuff’s not cheap.” He nagged through the screen. I chuckled through the bottle and put the cork back in it, sitting it on my nightstand next to me. “As for James,” he made a face acknowledging the pettiness of my Godfather. “Don’t let him get to you. He has a tendency to lash out when things don’t go his way. He’s a little bitch like that.” He said in an unconcerned tone.

“Trust me I know. We’ve butted heads almost all my life. He’d get mad if I was on the phone too long or if I wasn’t interested in something he was talking about…”

“Listen, I’m sure he means well.” He reached offscreen and brought a beer to his lips before placing it back down.

“He called you an ex-convict.” I told him and he burst into laughter. Literally loud and boisterous, slapping his knees and clapping. I chuckled to myself as he found amusement in my Godfather’s comment. He spoke when he finally calmed himself down enough.

“Jesus, James! Tell me how you really feel.” He giggled.

We continued to talk for a few and he told me all about what he’d seen in India. The landmarks, that statue work, the puzzles they found all over the place. He spoke of how he was leading Chloe’s competitor on a wild goose chase by lying that he was a Hoysala expert. Only he could get away with something like that. The mouth on that man was talented in more ways than one. Then he asked me how things were going on my side of the world. “I have a dance recital comin’ up. The kids get to show what they’ve learned then the other teachers and myself do a dance too.”

“Now we’re talkin’!” He beamed at me. “When?!”

“Would you even be back in time?” I sulked.

“Hey, now. Pick your head up, sweetheart.” He said. I lifted my head but took my gaze to a random corner of my room, giving an annoyed huff. “Look at me.” I tilted my head and brought my eyes to the screen. “I’m gonna be there.” He stated. “I’ll be sittin’ right in the front row so save my seat, sister!” He grinned. That made me feel good. That meant he might be home soon.

“I will.”

“Now, I can’t stay up with you for too much longer but would you do me the honor of granting this… poor old man a favor?” He said dramatically clutching his heart through his shirt. I gave a flirty smirk and adjusted myself to sitting back on my heels.

“What do you need?” I mewed.

“Would you sing for me?” He asked. It was such a pure request from him that I blushed, covering my cheeks with the long sleeves of the shirt.

“Really? You want me to sing?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, doll.” he looked at me longingly and I couldn’t stop myself from becoming a blushing mess. “Now I know it’s not selling out a stadium or anything but it’s one fan who’s really missed hearing your voice… Song of your choice of course.”

I rolled my eyes with a laugh as I reached next to my bed to pull my acoustic guitar from its case. Sitting the guitar in my lap, I thought long and hard about what to sing for him, briefly checking the tuning of the strings. Without much preparation, I began strumming the chords and plucking the strings to Strange Land by Niki. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes, lighting another cigarette and taking his beer in hand to relax as my voice carried through the laptop.

Here for the nosedive

Whatever you need

And I'm savin' all the bold lines

I'll say 'em while you sleep

You're sleepin' on the wrong side

And I'm turnin' endlessly

Screamin' for my lifeline, lifeline, life

Ooh, continental drifter

Still, I'm the hero of my hometown

Now I'm all laid up with you, sentimental trickster

Maybe in another lifetime, lifetime, life (oh)...

“Wow… it’s almost like I’m hearing you sing for the first time all over again.” He said with a sentimental tone. He gave me a genuine smile.

“Goodnight, Sam…” I sang softly. He reached out to touch the screen for a moment and gave a small smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll be home soon…. I love you.” He said before terming the connection. My heart skipped as I stared at the black screen. ‘Did he really just say that to me?’ I thought with a smile as I put my guitar away. I spent the rest of watching Indiana Jones with a goofy look on my face.

#uncharted 4 #sam drake x reader smut #sam drake #samuel drake x reader #samuel drake #uncharted smut #uncharted #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted x reader #sam drake smut

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julesdelorme · 5 years ago

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faller

Chapter 13 - Gun

In all the years I’ve been wearing this uniform I’ve never once pointed a gun at another human being. That’s a cliché I know. The cop who never pulled his gun before. But even when I was in country with my military unit I never once had to fire off a round at another human being or even take aim at another human being. I never even liked hunting. I just went along to be one of the boys, but I never really wanted to kill anything when I could just go buy meat at the grocery store.

Part of it was me avoiding action and, more importantly, danger, whenever I could. But part of it too was just that I never ended up in a situation where any of that was required of me. I walked away with a Distinguished Service medal and the word veteran on my license plate, but I never once pointed a gun with live ammunition at another human being before that moment.

This time I came close to pulling the trigger.

This time I came way too close to pulling the trigger and shooting another human being.

Don’t even want to imagine the shitload of paperwork that would have meant.

Shitload.

Definitely one more for the jar.

Just for the briefest moment my finger was sliding down toward the trigger and I was actually going to shoot.

When he ran. That was the moment. When he got up and ran and I realized that he was running I almost dropped the girl so I could shoot him. I guess I just didn’t want to have to explain why or how I let a guy just run away like that and even though I know that is the wrong reason to shoot another human being I came so close, for just a moment to doing it.

I didn’t do it.

Don’t know how I ended up with the girl in my arms. Not sure how she got there. Trying to calm her down I guess. To quiet her down. All that screaming was just making the situation worse and I guess I figured if I could get her to calm down I could get control and calm everyone and everything else down too. I guess that’s what I was trying to do and it did work, kind of, but don’t know if she came to me or I went to her. Just that she did stop screaming. She was shaking like a little frightened bird but at least she wasn’t screaming.

But in doing all that I lost sight of the guy and he started to run off.

That was going to mean a lot of paperwork and a lot of fucking explaining to do.

Another one for the jar.

I almost shot him just because I didn’t want to have to write it out or explain to anybody him getting away like that. You’d figure once you become Chief of Police, you get to stop answering to people. But there’s the council and the Grand Chief and all the other people who are looking for a reason to justify my salary.

I thought about shooting him. I never even thought about shooting anyone before that moment in my entire life. I really wanted to shoot the guy.

I didn’t.

I don’t know why exactly I wanted to shoot him so bad, other than looking to avoid the paperwork. It was more than the paperwork and the explaining. I mean, it’s not like I never got a runner before and it’s not like things never got tense before. It’s the Rez. Shit happens. But I never once pointed my gun and I never once wanted to shoot somebody as much as I wanted to shoot this guy.

Maybe it was the kid. Maybe that the kid could get hurt by this guy or that people were going to get worked up about me not properly protecting a kid. Maybe I was just pissed at the guy for running and making my life more complicated.

I don’t know.

Despite being a cop and being ex military and growing up on the Rez I don’t think that I’ve ever been a violent guy. I’ve been in some fights. I can take care of myself better than most. But I never really wanted to hurt anybody before, not even when I was a kid.

So I’ve got this woman, this girl really, shivering in my arms and the kid disappeared into the woods and the guy seeming to follow the kid and my gun’s still in my hand and I can’t believe how badly I wanted to use it. I mean in a very unhealthy way. I never met this guy before in my life and I barely knew the kid but there I am wanting to go Dirty Harry on some stranger.

She’s shivering like a baby bird. She felt as light as one too.

If we had a kid, if we could have a kid, she’d probably be about this age. Hopefully a little tougher and not so easy to freak out.

Near as I could tell she was freaking out about nothing much at all. Maybe the guy was a perv and maybe not. For all either one of us could have told he was completely harmless. He didn’t exactly look harmless. He looked like somebody who’d been walking on the hard side pretty much his whole life. But he also looked about as run down and beat down as you could get way more than he looked like any kind of danger. I mean I only got a quick look but from what I could tell.

I held her and I holstered my gun real slow. I never even took the safety off, but what was in my head gave me plenty of reason to be cautious and, like I always tell my deputies, always better slow and easy than sorry. So I eased that thing back into its holster and held her with both hands, let her cry it out. Said some comforting shit that I can’t even remember.

Shit.

Two more for the jar.

The boy’s going to be just fine and everything will be alright and some shit like that.

Another one for the jar.

She cried all over me and then she started to fight me, trying to work loose to go after the boy. I held her tighter and kept saying comforting shit trying to quiet her down. No! No no no! she screamed into my chest. No! Please! I need to... Let me go please!

I eased up my grip on her and then she changed her mind and started trying to push me towards the woods. You have to go! she yelled at me. You have to go after them now! Don’t you understand? Don’t you understand? He’s in danger and you have to save him! You have to go after them now!

I tried to explain that running into the woods, even if I was in any kind of shape to go running after anybody, with a loaded gun at that, was just going to make things worse if anything and the best I could do was round up a search party. But she kept pushing at me and screaming about how I had to save the kid and I couldn’t make her understand that chasing them wasn’t going to get anybody anywhere.

If the guy was going to hurt the kid it was going to happen with or without my fat ass chasing after them. Truth be told I was very worried that I might end up shooting the guy or missing him and hitting the kid. And maybe me being on his ass would make the guy do something way worse than he had any ideas about doing.

I didn’t say that part of course. Scaring her even more wasn’t going to help anything.

Instead I held her kicking and screaming with one hand and, after a whole lot of wrestling, managed to call in with the other. Told Delores at dispatching to call in anyone she could think of to form a search party. Delores kept asking if I meant a posse for some reason but I assured her that I meant search party. We didn’t know yet that the guy did anything that would call for a posse if things like that still existed. But Delores, being Delores, kept calling it a posse.

I just hoped the girl wasn’t one for the nuances of language.

She started to calm down then enough so that I could let her go and start gathering up her groceries, getting some order in all that chaos. I explained to her as I gathered up what I could how we were better off waiting and forming a group to find them instead of inflaming the situation. I could see in her eyes she didn’t buy that but I could also see that she was calming down enough to realize that she didn’t have much choice.

To tell you the truth I wasn’t so sure I was right.

I just knew that I didn’t want to go into those woods with my itchy trigger finger. And I didn’t want to get caught up in that thick forest. Maybe I also didn’t want go running after a guy all on my own. Maybe I knew that I was too old and fat and lazy to be pulling off that shit.

Another one for the jar.

It wasn’t like a stolen purse or catching somebody in the middle of a B & E. It was more complicated than that.

She was calming down.

She looked deep into my eyes.

Will you find him? Will you save him?

I smiled as gently as I could. Didn’t answer. I had been a cop, and a politician for long enough to know better than to make promises I couldn’t keep.

I hoped we would find the boy.

And I hoped that we would find him alive.

I wasn’t sure we would.

And I wasn’t sure enough to say.

I definitely was not fucking sure enough at all.

Shit.

That’s two more for the jar.

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#fiction #writing #writers #authors #author #novels #novelnovels #newnovels #julesdelorme #julesfdelorme #faller #delormewriting #scarboroughwritersfightclub #story #bear #native #nativestories #metis #metisstories

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sharkneto · 3 years ago

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can I just say that I love all ur snippets? theyre amazing. is it alright if I request a snip of something youve most recently written for five and dolores in the apocalypse? :)

Bless you, for asking about Five and Delores. Have my whole heart ;) Man, this fic was supposed to be a quick little one-off. Just a few thoughts, a few blurbs about them growing together. 14k words and we're only at this point:

Five doesn’t get to working on the math right away.

For one, he legitimately doesn’t know where to start on that.

For two, it hurts to look at. Hurts to know an entire year of dedicated work wasn’t enough. That he wasn’t smart enough to put it together.

There’s a lot to do around that, anyway. He has to replan his whole set up; Five had thought he’d been doing a good job planning for the worst, but he’d been naïve on what the worst was. Everything had been set up to only need to last a year.

He’d never considered that he’d be here for more than a year.

Absolutely never considered that he might be here for a couple years. A few years.

Decades.

Man, he really hopes it not decades. That sounds miserable.

But a few years, at least. That’s planning for the worst.

The first step is food. Delores sits and watches him pace around his camp, drawing in the dust as he thinks aloud for how he’s supposed to feed himself. Winter showed him he needs a better pantry situation – more space and a better job of keeping pests out. His bins aren’t going to cut it.

Water goes along with that. He’s still got lots of bottled water, there’s still a good stash at the grocery store along with that garage he found that had big five-gallon jugs that he can barely lift. He’s got his rain barrel, too, although he’s not sure what to do to make that, if not potable, at least useable.

There’s a lot of supplies he remembers seeing that he can’t find, now, and he kicks his past self for not grabbing them. There was a whole display of seeds in a little shop a few blocks away that are now waterlogged and bug eaten. He doesn’t think he could grow anything right now, anyway, but maybe next year the sun will be out again and he could have fresh vegetables.

If only he had saved the seeds.

So, no fresh food for Five. He keeps his eyes peeled for seeds, still. Hopefully he’ll be gone before he can grow them, but he’s preparing for the worst, now, and that means planning to grow his own food in a few years.

Clothes are another problem. He should have been scooping up every bit he found in the early days. Now so much is worn and weather beaten and just plain gross. He adjusts his requirements for clothes from “whole” to “wearable”. He also starts purposefully collecting larger sizes. If he doesn’t want to run around buck-naked in a few years, he needs to preserve clothes that will fit him then.

And he’s going to grow. Any day now. He’s going to shoot up.

Delores is going to feel so mean for how she keeps laughing at him over his insistence when he hits that growth spurt.

#shark's 500 follower celebration #ficblogging #snips #this is me cleaning up from the party #taking care of those last few guests that were left in my inbox lol

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fuckyeahevanrwood · 7 years ago

Text

Evan Rachel Wood: Rock Star Rebel

She is undoubtedly one of the most talented actors of her generation, possessing an uncanny ability to effortlessly inhabit a wide range of characters. Although she is currently most famous for her role on HBO’s smash hit Westworld, every character in her oeuvre is real, honest, and brimming with emotion, whether or not the project meets her talent. So it shouldn’t come as such a surprise that Evan Rachel Wood has slid so gracefully into her latest role…as a rock star.

Last year, Wood formed the group Rebel and a Basketcase with her fiancee and artistic abettor, Zach Villa, and I have been invited to meet the two at the Hard Rock Hotel San Diego. With its sleek interior, lively atmosphere, and ample music memorabilia, the hotel is the perfect place to encounter a rock star power couple for the first time. The duo is there to perform a special concert to celebrate the launch of Hard Rock’s new WAX program, which allows each guest to have a Crosley record player and a basket of vinyl delivered to their room upon request. It’s a very cool, very Hard Rock program, and I couldn’t think of two more appropriate ambassadors than Wood and Villa.

The Rebel and a Basketcase experience is both auditory and visual, with striking pastel images that recall vintage Bowie and music that is a beautiful, freeing assault incorporating an array of genres as disparate as the characters in Wood’s filmography. (Electronic Pop, 80s Glam Rock, Contemporary Alternative…there is a lot to feast on here.) Lyrically it’s a little easier to characterize. The unifying theme of songs like “Today” and “Oh Yeah” is one of freedom — freedom of expression, freedom from inhibition, freedom from dogmatic gender roles. “Why can’t I just be me?” Wood asks repeatedly on the latter track, a single from last year. If you’ve been following her career, you would know that she is not one to readily conform.

It may sound like a cliché, but Wood literally has been acting her entire life. She grew up in North Carolina amongst a family of thespians and film professionals. Her father was the director of a local theatre company where as an infant she first appeared in a production of A Christmas Carol, and throughout her childhood honed her skills. By the time she was a teenager, Wood had already appeared in films alongside the likes of Al Pacino and Nicole Kidman, and at the age of fourteen, she earned her first of three Golden Globe nominations for playing a troubled teenager in the controversial movie Thirteen. Both the film and Wood’s performance felt like a revelation.

Wood quickly developed a knack for stealing scenes. She was riveting as Mickey Rourke’s estranged daughter in The Wrestler and heartbreaking as a tragically naive intern who falls for George Clooney in The Ides of March. But it wasn’t until Westworld that she had another front-and-center starring showcase with the kind of widespread attention as Thirteen. The sci-fi series debuted last fall as the biggest new show in HBO history (yes, even bigger than Game of Thrones), and was just awarded an astounding 22 Emmy nominations, including one for Wood (her second) for her lead role as android “host” Dolores Abernathy. Her character’s journey was tragic, heartrending, and profoundly cathartic. In a cast that included titans like Anthony Hopkins and Ed Harris, Wood shone brightest.

To a different degree, the same might be said about her performance at the Hard Rock. Despite some minor technical difficulties and obvious growing pains (it’s only the band’s second or third show with this lineup), Rebel and a Basketcase pulsate with vibrant energy and emotion. While Villa is clearly a seasoned pro, flashing classic guitar god poise, Wood is far less polished, far less calculating, and, just as she is on-screen, undeniably captivating. Towards the end of the show, she boldly stage dives head-first into the crowd. “That was my first time crowd surfing!” she exclaims enthusiastically afterward. One gets the sense that Wood might be having the most fun of her entire life in these performances.

It is only fitting that someone who grew up acting in plays would meet her fiancee on-stage in front of a crowd, but that is exactly how Wood and Villa came together. In a meet-cute maybe even too far fetched for Hollywood, the couple first laid eyes upon one another while acting in John Hughes Cabaret with the theatre company For the Record. Both were playing characters from Hughes’ Breakfast Club: Villa the Judd Nelson role (“Rebel”), and Wood the Ally Sheedy character (“Basketcase”). The creative chemistry was immediate, the rest is history.

As a musician, Villa is self-taught, and one senses he has to work very hard to get to where he is today. And while he surely wouldn’t deny that her fame has given the band instant credibility and a platform on which to stand, after spending time with the two, it is not painfully obvious they are very madly in love, but also that they compliment one another very well both domestically and creatively. Villa seems like a calming, grounding force in the hectic life of a young actress and mother, and both describe their professional relationship as utterly symbiotic.

Both write, produce, and conceptualize visuals. Both collaborated to direct their new, blithely 80s video for “Today.” After a while, I get a strong feeling that Wood is the unbridled id — all raw inherent talent — whereas Villa is her more calculated left-brain counterpart.There are certain things he hears that I just don’t,” she tells me, “he’s really good at fine-tuning the sounds and the instruments; he gets into the minutia where I am like ‘this is so out of my realm.’ Yet she goes on to say: “But then I will come in with these big stupid ideas — ‘it needs an Enya chorus!’ — that somehow work.” It’s “macro/micro,” Villa says.

After the performance, I walk “backstage” to discover Wood sipping colored water out of an Evian bottle (“I just thought it looked cool”) and tell her that I was genuinely impressed by the performance. “Thank you!” she says with earnest enthusiasm. I say “I wasn’t expecting it to be so…” “Powerful?” she asks. “Yes.” It is precisely the word. “Yeah, we get that a lot,” she says earnestly, “people are usually taken off guard.” Not the least bit surprised by the performance are the scores of fans that have gathered on the other side of the velvet rope. Many of them have driven down from LA, or further, and they have band t-shirts and pictures from famous photo shoots Wood has done, like an incredibly striking one with Terry Richardson for GQ a few years back.

She quickly walks over and greets them with hugs, spending the next 20 to 30 minutes leisurely posing for selfies and having moments with each of them. Eventually, someone brings out a tray of absurdly large shots of Clase Azul tequila and I find myself in the surreal, very Almost Famous situation of huddling for a group chant with the band before toasting and downing the shots. Afterward, Wood and Villa proceed to hang out with the fans, dancing goofily to a remix of Oasis’ “Wonderwall.”

“She loves them,” Villa later tells me about the fans, “they’re very important to her.” As we sit in a booth after the bar has cleared out, he goes on to say: “She has the weight of the world on her shoulders…and she handles it magnificently.” While I am sure a lot that weight comes from being a mother to her nearly four-year-old son and simply being a young actress in Hollywood, there is obvious inherent pressure in being on a massive hit like Westworld.

The doesn’t return until some time next year, and while plot details are scarce — “I literally know as much as you,” Wood jokes — one thing we do know is that it would be unwise for her character to not have a central role again. The success of the show’s brilliant, labyrinthine first season hinged primarily on the strength of her performance. Delores was the perfect stand-in for the audience. She personified our confusion. And it was because Wood made this inhuman character so utterly compelling, so feeling, and inexorably human, that the entire journey was so emotional.

When I ask her about the heart-wrenching moment when (spoiler alert!) Dolores finally reaches the end of “the maze” and learns the truth about her existence, she reveals that she bawled her eyes out on set that day. “That was tough,” she confesses. Aside from Westworld, both Wood and Villa assure me that a full-length album should be out “very soon,” and Wood admits she wants to start transitioning more into writing and directing. She has a script she co-wrote with Jenny Slate (Obvious Child), a dramedy she hopes will be “kind of revolutionary for women,” and intends to direct in the immediate future. Later I candidly ask Villa if he thinks she can pull it off. “Yes,” he says without hesitation. “She can do anything.”

#evan rachel wood #articles #jetset magazine #articles 2017 #zach villa #rebel and a basketcase #article

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transstudent · 7 years ago

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In Conversation With Sarah Schulman: “They’re Being Taught That Control Is Freedom”

Riese, Autostraddle

Sarah Schulman’s Conflict Is Not Abuse: Overstating Harm, Community Responsibility and the Duty of Repair landed in my mailbox last winter, sent by the publisher, and I promptly shelved it, asserting that the last thing I needed in my life was somebody telling me that any abuse I’d personally experienced in my relationships or community was merely conflict. But Autostraddle readers kept recommending it, so in March, I picked it up. And couldn’t put it down.

Conflict Is Not Abuse is the 18th book published by lesbian activist Sarah Schulman — a novelist, playwright, AIDS historian and, currently, a distinguished Professor of the Humanities at the College of Staten Island. She is the co-founder of MIX: NY LGBT Experimental Film and Video Festival, the US Coordinator of the first LGBT Delegation to Palestine, and the Co-Director of the ACT UP Oral History Project, having joined the organization in 1987 and been one of many lesbians who took on political, activist and care-taking work at the height of the AIDS crisis. In 1992, she was one of five co-founders of the legendary direct action organization Lesbian Avengers, responsible for planning the US’s first Dyke March, which took place in Washington DC in April 1993. Her published books include the novels After Delores (1989), Rat Bohemia (1993) and The Cosmopolitans(2016); non-fiction works Ties That Bind: Familial Homophobia and Its Consequences (2009), The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination (2012) and Israel/Palestine and the Queer International (2012). Her novel People in Trouble(1990) was the uncredited inspiration for the musical RENT, a situation she chronicles in Stagestruck: Theater, AIDS, and the Marketing of Gay America (1998). Awards under her belt include a Guggenheim Fellowship, Fulbright, New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowship, Kessler Prize for Sustained Contribution to LGBT Studies, a Stonewall Book Award and multiple Lambda nominations.

Conflict Is Not Abuse is a discussion of how inflated accusations of harm are used to avoid accountability, and she traces this phenomenon as it applies from interpersonal relationships to global politics. For the latter, she looks specifically at HIV criminalization in Canada and the occupation of Palestine. The book opens with the example of the police officers who saw Michael Brown and Eric Garner as “threatening” when they were doing literally nothing, and how any kind of difference, resistance or anxiety can be seen as an attack when it’s not. The book has generated heaps of conversation online and off, is blurbed by bell hooks and Claudia Rankine, is the winner of the Judy Grahn Award for Lesbian Non-Fiction and a nominee for a Lambda Literary Award.

Of course, it was the interpersonal and local community focused sections at the front that really drew me in, because I am basic like that. Her investigation of shunning and group dynamics, especially within groups heavily populated by those who’ve experienced personal trauma or inherited generational trauma, is particularly interesting from the perspective of a queer community organizer.

I became, quite quickly, obsessed. I sent copies to ten of my friends, and we eagerly texted each other snapshots of our favorite passages. Everybody connected to it (or didn’t) in their own way, based on our relative experiences with shunning, with re-examining the degrees to which we allow past trauma to impair present relationships and interrogating how the overstatement of harm has squashed so much potentially enlightening online discourse and torn so many queer communities apart.

See, since approximately early November, I’ve been questioning everything. How my friends and I treat each other, how my workplace operates, and most of all, how us queer feminist progressives handle ourselves. How do we communicate with each other, with our enemies, and with our potential allies? This has meant confronting material that used to scare me — because it seemed like too much, ’cause I was scared of what it’d make me have to confront within myself and what it would bring into focus about my work. It feels like we’ve hit a wall with callout culture and language policing and problematic-fave-destroying where we’re forced to acknowledge that a lot of how we do things just isn’t working. We’re not achieving consensus or winning politically, either.

Critical response to the book has been overwhelmingly positive or at least invigorated. The main line of criticism that’s come out against this book speaks to my initial reservation: my fear that Schulman would re-frame legitimate abuse as conflict. My read accounted for this discrepancy — I simply assumed experiences that I knew were straightforward abuse were not the types of experiences Schulman was asking us to re-name. But perhaps my own specific background enables this type of comfortable disassociation because the only people who’ve ever denied abuse I’ve experienced have been the me and the abuser — my friends, family and psychiatric professionals have generally been the ones to name it, not the ones to discredit it. (The police didn’t believe me either, but unfortunately that’s exactly what I expected from them, so.) That also has given me room to interrogate my own role in abusive situations without feeling like I have to accept shame or blame, too. Furthermore, the book itself does not seem to speak to abuse within families or parent-child relationships, which I believe exist on a different paradigm altogether.

Engaging with Conflict Is Not Abuse jump-started a kind of re-entry, for me, into the world of ideas and theory, and to remembering the importance of engaging intellectually with broad-level interrogations of how we talk and operate. Even the process of considering and ultimately landing on disagreeing with an idea of Schulman’s strengthened my own understanding of my own convictions. On the internet, there’s not much room for nuance. Within social justice communities, there’s this sense that there are bad guys and good guys, and we’re the good guys, and it’s our job to inform the entirety of “good guys” the Right Way To Think and Act. Reading Schulman and other authors since has been enlightening ’cause there are, even within the queer feminist left, so many different approaches to things, and we should be able to engage with them and consider them and even disagree vehemently about them without resorting to shunning, lashing-out, taking material out of context and wielding it like a weapon, name-calling, massive overstatements of harm and projecting our anger at the world onto each other because well, underneath all that is a lot of love.

If you’ve not read Conflict Is Not Abuse but want some sense of it before reading this interview, I highly recommend reading this transcript of Schulman’s recent conversation with trans writer Morgan M Page on “Queer Suicidality, Conflict and Repair,” in which book-related concepts enter the conversation midway. But do read the book, it changed my life. Also, reading People in Trouble and then Stagestruck and thus finding out the real story behind RENT totally ruined my life, but that’s another article for another day, so.

Read the full interview here.

#restorative justice #lgbtq #queer #trans #transgender #autostraddle #news

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pendesvoyage · 6 years ago

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Don’t Shave His Balls

6 June 2018

There are over 43 million households in America that have a dog. Short hair, long hair, thick coated or thin, they all need to be taken care of. That’s where dog groomers come in. Dog owners feed their dogs out of the palm of their hands. They dress them in collars more expensive than my car. It would only make sense that they would only trust a professional to give their little pup a haircut. In my mind, dog groomers are just so obsessed with dogs that they have to have them, not just at home, but at work also. Groomers are the aunt that pinches your cheeks and asks if you met a nice young person to marry yet- but to your dog. I am an animal lover, so I think we would get along.

My journey into being a dog groomer for a day led me to a grooming salon in Rogers, AR. They have their own small territory inside a larger store, and they are very proud of it. The grooming salon is encased in glass and on display for everyone to see. There are grooming tables lining the two long walls where groomers do the best part of their job. Up front is a desk where they greet pet parents, and where they greeted me with a smile and a wave.

They were busy with excitable dogs, but they still had time to interact with each other like it was second nature. They’re just that good. Dog groomers have a very clear and distinct role in their local society. People come to them when their beloved German Shepherd, Rosco, rolls through the mud puddle in the backyard and they have family pictures that afternoon. They are seen as the dog’s stylist, therapist, and babysitter. Groomers come from all backgrounds and ways of life; they are as diverse as the dogs they serve. That includes their personalities. One thing they must all have in common, though, is a love of dogs.

The uniform of a dog groomer is neither sexy nor flashy. Each of them wear closed-toed, non-slip shoes. Some of them wear boots, some tennis shoes, but all of them are picked specifically for this job. Their attire is certainly picked for comfort over fashion but even their pants range from sweats to yoga pants to scrubs, depending on taste. Each of them are matching at least in regards to their slate grey, wicking smocks that are company issue. Then, they differ once again in hair style. Some wear it in a ponytail, some down, and most somewhere in between. All of the groomers in this salon are female except one. I believe it’s probably something like being a teacher, not a profession most men are inherently drawn to, but could be great at nonetheless.

When a pet owner enters the store they know that one of these people with be caring for their dog. Even outside of the salon, that smock with the company name emblazoned upon the breast is recognizable. They also have a way of speaking that is specific to their job. They call dog owners that come in “pet parents” and shaving a dog’s entire body a “ten all over”. Even outside of work, their knowledge of dog breeds and hair types would clue us all in that they’re not just run-of-the-mill animal lovers. When they are at work they are noticed as employees and as experts. When they aren’t in uniform though they wouldn’t be distinguishable from anyone else.

I got the chance to have a sit down with Delores, a dog groomer for a few years and a- surprise- animal lover. She became a dog groomer after her mother-in-law asked her to cut her Shih Tzu’s hair. Delores thought it would be great is she could learn how to do that herself and sought out an opportunity to learn, thus the job. A plus was that they paid for her training and gave her supplies to get her started in her career. One of the perks of being a dog groomer is the “cute dogs that behave” she informed me. She loves being a groomer so she can turn “crazy, frumpy dogs into cute ones”.

Working with other dog groomers can have its downside though. A frustration that rears its ugly head time and again is all of the clashing personality types in such a small space. Though she is secure in knowing they all share a purpose in the salon, it can be tough to feel at ease with so many different types of people. “People that are more on the artistic side have big personalities,” she told me with a roll of her eyes. She considers grooming an art and artists are a very proud people.

The other frustration can be the...enthusiastic pet parents. Although most customers see these groomers as professionals in their career, some think only they know best for their dogs. Delores told a few hilarious and frustrating stories about the more memorable customers. One day, a lady came in with her tiny purse pet and asked for a basic groom including sanitary areas, but when she was given her dog back she wasn’t pleased. She hated that they’d shaved her dog’s balls, citing that they “made him look gay because you can see them”. The pet parent refused to take her dog from the salon; she didn’t want him out in public looking like that.

A more recent example came in the form of a housewife with bigger dreams for her life. She brought her dog in to get groomed, and when the groomers asked their usual questions (Have they had their shots? Are they aggressive towards other dogs? Do they have heart problems, including heartworms?) they hit a snag. The poor dog had heartworms which meant they couldn’t groom the dog. Company policy. “But he’s on preventatives and antibiotics,” the owner protested.

It didn’t matter. For the safety of the dog, they couldn’t put him in a stressful situation that might exacerbate the situation. The owner’s face turned sour and panicked. “We’re going to be on HGTV! They’re coming tomorrow and he has to look nice!” Her fifteen minutes of fame didn’t change company policy though, so they had to refuse. After calling other local groomers and vets to look for an opening for the woman and failing, the frustrated owner threw her hands up and shouted to God and country, “Cuss!” When everyone in the salon stood frozen in confusion she clarified. “I can’t say the word, but cuss!” she exclaimed again before throwing her head back and laughing maniacally, walking out with her dog.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t have to go through that kind of thing alone. She also has a strong group of people that have to deal with the very same everyday. There are a few favorites that make work “light and fun” but others can make the environment “toxic”. Luckily, the majority of her days, she’s surrounded by people she enjoys working with.

I bet Delores is glad she owns cats and can get a break from her job at home. They are two adorable fluffy butts that couldn’t be more different. One is thin with a sharp, black spot across his eye. The other is the Taft of cats and owns it. She got cats because they were easier to have in an apartment, but now she’s obsessed. Getting a dog might be an option when they have a big backyard, she said, but she’ll always prefer cats.

Due to the strain it puts on her body and a lack of longevity in that area of work, Delores has decided to go to school for Medical Billing and Coding, which will take a year or two to complete and then she plans to move on to a different career that will have much less dog hair. Being a part of this group has been fun, but she is looking forward to being a part of a less strenuous one.

Groomers hold a special place in the hearts of dog owners, as proved by the Christmas cards and graduation invites they receive. Surprisingly, I learned, dog groomers lives’ don’t actually revolve around dogs outside of work, though they do have an exuberant love for the species. Their lives are so much more than that, even if that’s all we see of it. They are significant others and cat owners and students and parents. Just like me, they work hard everyday because they love what they do. In the future, I advise everyone to treat their dog groomers with the respect and patience they deserve.

(Names were changed or deleted.)

#nonfiction #essay #dog grooming #social observation #social #jess pende #writings wednesday

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asylum-ireland-blog · 6 years ago

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EU migration policy: "There is no long-term vision"

New Post has been published on http://asylumireland.ml/eu-migration-policy-there-is-no-long-term-vision/

EU migration policy: "There is no long-term vision"

As part of an edition of ‘Insiders’ about migrants braving the Alps to enter France, we spoke to immigration specialist Yves Pascouau, associate senior research fellow at the Jacques Delors Institute and researcher at the University of Nantes, where he holds the Schengen Chair, created as part of the Alliance Europa programme. He also edits EuropeanMigrationLaw.eu.

Pascouau was previously director of the European Policy Centre and his research centres on European and national immigration, asylum and integration policies.

He regrets that EU member states don’t have a united approach to migration, arguing that they remain divided on reforms to the Dublin Regulation and don’t have an appropriate response to climate refugees.

Sophie Claudet, Euronews:

“We can’t really talk about a harmonised European immigration policy, perhaps due to a lack of solidarity between member states and because there are political divisions. Is there a way to solve this problem?”

Yves Pascouau, European migration specialist, Institut Jacques Delors:

“I would say that the original or essential problem of European policy, just like national policies, is that there is no long-term vision. Today, member states and the European Union react to situations without taking a long-term position on setting objectives, establishing scenarios and envisaging measures and actions to be implemented with a view to hitting these targets over relatively long periods of up to 15, 20, 25 years. That political vision is missing.”

Sophie Claudet:

“Let’s talk about the so-called Dublin Regulation It is going to be revised, reformed. What can we expect from this reform?”

“Division between European Union member states”

Yves Pascouau:

“The next European Council, that’s to say the meeting in June 2018 of heads of state and government, should come up with a set of guidelines on the further reform of the Dublin Regulation. But today we are in a deadlock, not to say a division between European Union member states – between those asking for more solidarity and those refusing to give it. Yet the Dublin Regulation is really about solidarity: What can we do to help frontline European Union member states, like Greece and Italy, to relieve their asylum system? And in this area, there are still deep divisions between European Union member states and it’s uncertain, at this time, whether heads of government and state will be able to reach agreement on a Dublin revision.”

Sophie Claudet:

“Let’s talk about this distinction made between economic and political migrants when it comes to screening asylum-seekers. Is this distinction relevant?”

Yves Pascouau:

“The legal categories are what they are. People who can claim asylum – or what is more widely called international protection – are people who flee persecution, with good reason: so for example, people fleeing an armed conflict are those who typically are going to be able to benefit from international protection, asylum. People who don’t fall into this category fall into a much broader grouping which is down to the goodwill – if we can put it like that – of states to take them or not. And in reality, the distinctions exist on that basis and as long as there is no legal framework allowing people fleeing poverty to be protected, well they will remain in the realm of state favour.”

Sophie Claudet:

“But we can say that there are limits in the distinctions made by certain states. Iraq, for example, is considered, by and large, as a ‘secure’ zone by many European countries when that is not truly the case. The same thing goes for Afghanistan. But that is another debate….To conclude, lets talk about upcoming migration trends. There is a lot said about climate refugees and they exist already, in fact. Is Europe preparing itself? Is it aware that there will be an influx of climate refugees?”

“Are climate refugees eligible to a legal status that would protect them?”

Yves Pascouau:

“Has Europe geared itself up to take into account and address that question? I’m not sure. Having said that, there is a whole series of reports – and notably a report from the World Bank published in March – which show that most certainly, if we do nothing, both in terms of reducing greenhouse gases, and in terms of development policy, then by 2050 there will be 140 million people internally displaced in their countries whether it be in sub-Saharan Africa, South Asia or Latin America. So the effects of climate change on migration are clearly identified. Now we have to get ready to find an appropriate response which is both a European response – what will we do with the people who are forced to move because of drought, flooding, storms? And what are we doing within the international community to ask the question: Are climate refugees eligible to a legal status that would protect them? And that, in my opinion, is a question which is going to be on the political agenda for many years to come.”

#Asylum Europe

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julesdelorme · 5 years ago

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And finally, the new Chapter....

You can find the whole thing so far at:

https://www.facebook.com/delormewriting

faller

Chapter 13

Gun

This time I came close to pulling the trigger.

This time I came way too close to pulling the trigger and shooting another human being.

Don’t even want to imagine the shitload of paperwork that would have meant.

Shitload.

Definitely one more for the jar.

Just for the briefest moment my finger was sliding down toward the trigger and I was actually going to shoot.

I didn’t do it.

But in doing all that I lost sight of the guy and he started to run off.

That was going to mean a lot of paperwork and a lot of fucking explaining to do.

Another one for the jar.

I thought about shooting him. I never even thought about shooting anyone before that moment in my entire life. I really wanted to shoot the guy.

I didn’t.

I don’t know.

She’s shivering like a baby bird. She felt as light as one too.

If we had a kid, if we could have a kid, she’d probably be about this age. Hopefully a little tougher and not so easy to freak out.

Shit.

Two more for the jar.

The boy’s going to be just fine and everything will be alright and some shit like that.

Another one for the jar.

I didn’t say that part of course. Scaring her even more wasn’t going to help anything.

I just hoped the girl wasn’t one for the nuances of language.

To tell you the truth I wasn’t so sure I was right.

Another one for the jar.

It wasn’t like a stolen purse or catching somebody in the middle of a B & E. It was more complicated than that.

She was calming down.

She looked deep into my eyes.

Will you find him? Will you save him?

I smiled as gently as I could. Didn’t answer. I had been a cop, and a politician for long enough to know better than to make promises I couldn’t keep.

I hoped we would find the boy.

And I hoped that we would find him alive.

I wasn’t sure we would.

And I wasn’t sure enough to say.

I definitely was not fucking sure enough at all.

Shit.

That’s two more for the jar.

#fiction writing writers authors author novels novelnovels newnovels julesdelorme julesfdelorme faller delormewriting scarboroughwritersfight

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