#it's weird like he's not DEAD the man is still out there doing gigs and shit he's just not putting himself on blast anymore

[definitionsfading]

we're at the point in my nebulous character arc where a 480p potato recording of a GNR club gig from 1987 has become a comfort watch for me. I literally did not ask for this, the most random hyperfixations are just delivered upon me. embarrassing.

as I get deeper into the Bandom Lore for GNR I feel like it's super easy to dismiss Axl as a shitty person, but even if he's a so-called shitty person I still relate to him a lot 🫣 the need for control keeping him away from hard drugs while his bandmates were constantly high all around him, the heavy tattoos before tattooing was even really mainstream beyond bikers and gangs, the neurotic tendencies, his creativity battling with personal introversion, his love of cats 😂 AND THE CONSTANT OUTSPOKEN RANTING LMAO. we're like a different shade of the same person and I identify with a lot of the "undesirable" aspects of his personality because I see some of them in myself. I only wish I was as much of a go-getter and risk taker, jesus

[skirter01]

AU: Dukes got a strange new teacher, Jason has a weird neighbour, Dick helped a poor civillian with two broken legs, and Tim's got a bad feeling about the knew Wayne Enterprises employee. Who knew they'd turn out to be the same person? Or... Dannys stuck in Gotham, how, why, when? To be confirmed, although, he's positive its something to do with a certain time-turning asshole. But now he's got bats on his tail and a serious case of the munchies. Good thing Sam and Tucker learned early on to slap a tracker on his phone.

----

Smol Teaser

Dick stumbled forwards, chain rattling around his foot as it pulled taunt. He hit the deck.

“No!”

Duke closed his eyes – and for a moment, he wondered what it would’ve been like if he’d just stayed home like he’d planned to – as Danny descended, mouth split into a feral smile and scythe in motion.

Then, “Bang!”

Dukes’ ears screamed as something exploded, a sonic boom erupting somewhere to his right. A fiery green blast flashed through the air, smacking into Danny like a sledgehammer and sending him hurtling into the concrete pillar in a blast of dust and debris.

Duke took in a sharp breath, eyes fettering over where the teacher landed. His eyes locked on Dick, who was staring over his shoulder from his place on the floor.

“Ha! Bullseye!” Duke startled at the voice and whipped to his right. “I am literally a God.”

Had he been transported to Men in Black right now? Because there was no other explanation for what this was right now. The owner of the voice was a young African American, with neat cornrows and dressed in a suit straight out of MIB, save for the sunglasses which were substituted for a slick pair of black framed glasses.

With a huff, the newcomer hefted an enormous smoking bazooka to rest between his shoulder blade and collarbone. He looked over the room with a grin. “Worry not ladies, knight with shining armour reporting for duty.” He proclaimed with a cheeky grin and a wink, patting the weapon’s steel side fondly, “No, need to thank me. Just doing my job.”

There was a click, and the stranger froze, “Who in the hell are you?” Jason growled through his modulator, stepping out of the shadows to the left of new guy, pistol aimed for a head shot.

The stranger’s eyes slid, acknowledging Jason’s gun from his peripheral. “Sure…” He drawled cautiously, ‘shoot the man with the bazooka. Do it.”

Jason pulled out his second gun. Head titling in challenge.

New guy grinned. “Geez, calm your tits. Names Foley, Tucker Foley.” He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a badge. “FBI”

The FBI?

Jason lowered his pistols. “The fuck is the FBI doing in Gotham?” Duke would like to know the same thing.

Tucker shrugged, “Shits and gigs” he said, dropping the bazooka from his shoulder, and catching its nose on his foot before he propped it up against the closest wall. He swivelled, jabbing a finger over at the downed spectre. “Mostly that troublemaker though. Do you mind if I–actually, why am I even asking you?” He stalked over to the cracked concrete pillar and jabbed at foot at Dukes downed teacher, shifting his lifeless body “Oi, Danny.”

Duke didn’t know how to break the news. “Um, Mr. Foley? He’s not–Well, he was killed by something, we don’t know what exactly. I don’t think he’s–yeah…Sorry.” Ever so eloquently put.

Tucker raised a brow, “Are you trying to tell me he’s dead?”

Duke resisted the urge to point out that this Tucker guy did actually shoot him into the wall with a bazooka. He was dead before anyway, but still.

“Obviously,” Jason grumbled, crossing his arms. “Some occult thing.”

“Right.” Tucker’s face twisted into a slight frown, and he nudged the body again. “Danny, stop foxing and get up.”

There was a groan and Duke took an involuntary step back.  

Tucker prodded Danny again. “C’mon, up and at ‘em.”

“5 more minutes.” Danny rolled over onto his side. “M’kay?”

Dick’s mouth was wide open at the scene. “Are you serious right now?”

Danny popped his head up, hair and face covered in dust, his eyes narrowed. “You’d think coming at them with a scythe would scare them off, right Tuck?”

“I told you it wasn’t going to work.” A feminine voice came from the doorway, and a woman stepped into the room. “But please, feel free to be disappointed.” She was dressed in back cargo pants, and a cropped purple tee, dark hair neatly braided down her back. She leaned against the door, “You missed our anniversary.” She said pointedly towards Danny.

Danny dropped his head back to the floor. “Can we go back to when I was just a lifeless corpse?”

Tucker gwuaffed. “You’re already a lifeless corpse, there’s nothing to go back to, stupid."

[thegirlwhowatchedeverything]

The conversation about the death of Sydney's mom in 2x9 is so unhinged. At first we're made to think Carmy's responding the way 99.9% of people would to hearing about someone's dead loved one - "I'm sorry" - but no, before his mind arrives at that automatic human response, his first thought is to apologize for not knowing this deeply personal fact about his girlfriend business partner: I'm sorry...I feel like I should have known that. The writers know what they we doing. Especially in the context of the next part of the conversation. Syd immediately shuts down what she thinks is the token apology she's been on the receiving end of for 20+ years. I honestly don't think she even hears what he says after "I'm sorry". It's only after she shuts him down for what she thinks is the token apology that Carmy actually gives said token apology. For whhyyy did they write I feel like I should have known that. I mean we know why but let's do a quick Claire comparison. After creepily getting Carmy's number from Fak, this exchange happens in 2x3:

Claire: Okay can you just, can you just not make this weird? (the cognitive dissonance of this statement, Claire, babe...) Like I just need a favor. My cousin bailed on me.

Carmy: What, Big Denny?

Claire: No, Mac. Denny's dead.

Carmy: Oh. Damn, Denny.

Claire: Yeah, totally sucks, but I have to move all this shit for my mom who is not dead. She's absolutely thriving...(rest of convo is irrelevant to my point)

There was no narrative need to emphasize the fact that Claire's mom is alive (and thriving!) other than to directly contrast Sydney. You can't even say oh it's a throwback to the dark humor of S1 with the two "I'm not dead, my brother's dead" conversations Carmy has with the health inspector lady (1x2) and Mr. Szorski at Cicero's catering gig (1x4) because those scenes are dark and sad and funny because we know and care about Carmy and Mikey whereas we do not know or care about Big Denny or Claire's mom. Carmy and Mikey are the absolute driving forces of the show, especially in S1 whereas we never see or hear about those two other characters. But, interestingly, Carmy clearly knew Big Denny and didn't even respond with the (as established) token "I'm sorry." Whereas he looks absolutely anguished over Sydney's mom, a woman he's never met and knows absolutely nothing about. But he plays it like he's finding out about the death of his mother in law because he feels like he should have known. And yes, granted in this context dead mom > dead cousin on the emotional scale but still. Carmy's two reactions are so starkly opposite.

It's just so pointed to have Carmy react to the deaths of his girlfriend's and girl-who-is-a friend's relatives, no? We knew the reveal of Sydney's mom was coming because it's narratively relevant, it's such a formative part of Sydney (hence why it hits Carmy like a gut punch). But to unnecessarily bring up Claire's mom for what other reason than contrast with Sydney, right?

Okay, to bring it back to the scene in question - this man is able to pull the biggest smile and laugh from Syd all season by matching her energy and making a deadpan joke about her deceased mom. But it's fine because he doesn't think he's funny (1x8). He doesn't need to bring pleasure or amusement to others (2x10). I can't.

[littlestsnicket]

title: lunch break

word count: .5k

post season 2; daniel and real rashid are aggrieved co-workers now; the workplace comedy i want the talamasca show to be and am certain i will not receive; set in the same verse as @mitzvahmelting’s rashid is a zoologist fic because i have adopted it as my personal canon

“Do you miss playing butler to the Stepford Wives?”

“We may share an employer, but I still find you immensely irritating.”

“How did you come by that gig anyway? And did the Talemasca recruit you before or after?”

Rashid sighs in a way that is so artfully restrained it comes all the way back around and makes him seem like a diva. “I hold a PhD in cryptozoology.”

“Are you bragging about your PhD to me? I’m not big on formal education.”

“No, that’s the best answer I can give to your question. I was of independent interest to both parties.”

“So Louis thought it was a good idea to hire a cryptozoologist as a butler.”

“I believe it was primarily Armand’s decision. He dealt with most of the minutiae of household management.”

“Why am I not surprised? Armand is weird, man.”

“And yet, I am significantly more fond of him than you. At moments like this, I regret my part in helping you destroy his marriage.”

“Still? He’s probably creeping around waiting to kill you for your betrayal.”

“If Armand wanted me dead, we would not be having this conversation. He would have done it when I found him lurking in my apartment.”

“That’s not fair, Rashid! I spend all of this time and effort trying to attract his attention and he just shows up in your apartment! Was he upset?”

“He allowed me to explain myself.”

“That’s surprisingly magnanimous of him.”

Rashid shrugs. “I wasn’t entirely certain until then, we never discussed it, but he knew I was a Talamasca agent. It wasn’t so large of a betrayal as it might have seemed.”

“So he paid you to spy on him.”

“I asked a similar question. Armand said he wasn’t aware he was at cross purposes with the Talamasca until extremely recently. But I reassured him that we had little interest in his personal affairs, and only provided Sam’s script on your explicit request, so he really only had one newly minted fledgling at which to direct his ire.”

“Throwing me under the bus, Rashid,” Daniel tsks.

“As I said, I don’t particularly like you. But you have little to fear. Armand is inexplicably fascinated by you.”

Daniel frowns. “I think Armand hired you because you sound like a butler and he’s fried his brain watching too much tv on his stupid fucking iPad.”

Rashid makes a face.

“Fine, man, I won’t insult Armand’s intelligence. Maybe he thinks you’re pretty.”

Rashid blushes at that. It’s so subtle Daniel might not have noticed without his heightened senses. He has to restrain himself from crowing and doesn’t do a particularly good job.

“Were you fucking?”

Rashid doesn’t say anything.

“You were!”

“No.” Rashid says, firmly. “And you are lucky the Talamasca doesn’t have an HR department.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, you wouldn’t have hesitated like that. Maybe you’re not exactly lying. Were you having sex so kinky it didn’t even look like sex anymore? I’m sure Armand is into some weird shit.”

Rashid pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I say yes, will you stop?”

“Depends how convincingly you say yes.”

Rashid fixes Daniel with an absolutely dead eyed expression, gathers up his uneaten lunch without breaking eye contact, and stalks out of the break room, slightly too quickly.

“You can’t hide from me Rashid!” Daniel calls after him. The careful deliberate lack of response is satisfying in its own way.

[willowmosby]

I have over the last 5 months watched all 15 seasons and the immortality special of the original CSI. I have no plans to watch the reboot anytime soon so I thought I would info dump my thoughts, and if love to know how others feel. I will now present a very very long post with breakdown some quick thoughts on the seasons, more thoughts on most of the characters and a few ships.

Tldr: I really enjoyed CSI as a whole and I'm sad to say goodbye to a formula and some characters I've really grown attached to. ( And If there is a good Nick Stokes written into immortality fic please lmk)

Seasons:

I do think the early seasons the most fun/ light hearted, which feels weird to say when it literally opens with Sara investigating Warrick for negligence. I kinda wish I had blogged along or something so I could be more detailed in my response about them.

Like a lot of shows I think it really hit its stride in the middle seasons. If I had to pick a few seasons to watch it be 5-7. It also helps that I had finally gotten used to the lighting.

I think the 9- 11 stretch is too serious, don't get me wrong there were some bangers but overall not great

12-15 they were better and back to a little more fun, and I think the series kept its footing pretty well in its final innings. It was no golden era and I felt really bad that Catherine got demoted but I really enjoyed it. ( Well ok I really wasn' a gig harbor arc fan)

Immortality was a fine special, although I don't really feel like it stuck the landing. Part of that will probably become obvious when I talk about my character and ship takes but I also just felt the case could have been better. It's the freshest in mind, obviously, so I will say I really loved having Catherine and Grissom back and if anything I felt like it gave good closure for them and to a lesser extent Sara.

Characters( kinda in the order of their exit):

The lab rats: Bobby, Mandy, Archie icons every one of them. There is a world where Wendy, Hodges and Henry get their own sections but I feel like they would appreciate being in this group. Never pushed into too much melodrama their characterization, always great at their jobs. I would love to grab drinks with any of them

The cops: Brass will get his own sections but to summarize my feelings on all the others. They did their job and I love that for them. They almost never overstayed their welcome but they also aren't the reason I'm watching this show. The only two I would want to get drinks with are the should have been lesbian Sofia Curtis ( she almost got her own section but then i got lazy) and the best uniform in the business, the man, the myth, my man officer Mitchell.

Warrick Brown: My smooth talking gambling king. He was definitely missed after his death. While I didn't love his characterization in the greda Arc, I usually really enjoyed his dynamic with the team and his drive to the job. His death was the closest I came to stopping my watching. His skills with kids are underrated ( probably cause Nick and Catherine are so good) and I do have a say on top of all his intelligence and skills at the job he is so handsome. I think he might go a little too hard for me to enjoy getting drinks with him but I would still do it.

Gill Grissom: My second favorite Dr. Bug ( sorry no one can beat Jack Hodgins) he really is the smartest person on the show. You can always feel his passion for science which is lovely. While sometimes out of touch or oblivious he is usually incredibly kind. I liked his tie to the deaf community. You can pull the fact that he is Demi from my cold dead hands. In a lot of the ways he was the heart of the show and it definitely shows when he left. His relationships with Catherine, Warick, Nick and of course Sara were well developed. I would kill to get a drink with him just to listen to him talk science.

Riley Adams: she gets a section as it is rude for me to not mention a character who was in the credits but she's fucking white bread milk toast. Would not bother getting drinks.

Raymond Langston: I love his relationship with Robbins and I think he's incredibly smart. But I just think the show gave him way way too much too quickly. I mean just compare it to the fucking effort Greg put in to reach CSI or that as new CSI 3 there was a long stretch where Nick didn't get his own cases. I appreciated his complex background but he brought with him the Haskell arc which was just too fucking long and serious. I would get a singular glass of wine with him.

Catherine Willows: What a girl boss. And I mean that is all the best and worst ways. I really love her at her best but man some of her lows are just.. no fun. She is absolutely vital to the show's success and 9/10 times she is out there taking no prisoners and careing for her team. Just you know wish she hadn't shown her daughter a dead body or faked a crime scene with a new guy to name some examples. She could drink me under the table no doubt.

Jim Brass: While never my favorite character I always appreciate seeing him on my screen. Competent enough to hang with the scientist and still be a good cop. I appreciated how dedicated he was to his daughter but Just not personally my vibes. I would get a drink with him but uhh maybe make it non alcoholic cause it's unclear if he needs sobriety help.

Julie Finlay: She's sweet and very very good at her job. If she had come earlier on she might be one of my favorites just my top 3 was already filled. She brings a good balance back to the team, and she has a weird level of breaking and respecting the rules that I enjoyed. She very quickly had such a good dynamic with all the returning favs that there are moments I forgot she was so new. She's got big Bi & Poly energy. I know the actress wasn't coming back but I would've paid to see her interact with Grissom. Sad that she died off screen but also kinda glad they didn't end 15 with her completely dead. I would absolutely get drinks with her, probably mimosas despite my dislike for them.

Morgan Brody: eh shes fine. I feel like despite everything she still comes off as naive. I love her relationship with Eklie and Hodges but overall she left something to be desired. Nothing that I super disliked but I do kinda wish some of her screen time went to Sara or someone else.

D.B Russell: he was honestly a breath of fresh air, well until he wasn't. I think I just love Ted Dansion for one but also I felt like Russell was a beautiful balance between caring and professional. It was nice to have a supervisor who was actually kinda good at politics. I love that he actually cares for his kids and loves his wife ( although I was informed by my mother that he is divorced in Cyber). I do kinda wish the kept the bit where he laid on the ground as a body but mostly cause I found it way funnier than it is. I really hated the gig harbor killer arc and I felt like a large reason is it made him too serious. I would get a drink with him, but honestly I'd love to have a full meal with his family

Super Dave: what a lovable but weird dude. Genuinely a great example of how you can blend strange comments with kindness and consistency to create a great character. I would love to grab a drink with him.

Doc Robbins: What an honest man and in the running for the best M.E ( up there with Ducky and Cam). I'm glad he mostly stayed out of the drama and appreciated that he was always thorough, even when people were occasionally questioning his own work. Not kind to a fault but definitely empathetic. I would 100% grab a drink with him.

Now to the top 3, the best of the best, the ones who were in for the long haul.

Nick Stokes: Whether it's the sweet Texas accent and big bown eyes or the fact that he's the longest running main cast member I do think he is my favorite. Empathetic and kind, almost to a fault, he is also a man's man who can hold his own against the worst criminals. The show put him through the absolute fucking ringer but he still leaves with a smile on his face. Even when he clashes with other characters I feel like he resolves the problems better than other people. He definitely could have benefited from good therapy but I still love him anyway. His skills with kids are so nice and grounded in his backstory. Loved that he became the new big guy. Occasionally they try and paint him as a bit of a player but given he sleeps with like 2 women over 15 seasons it doesn't super add up. This is definitely the queer in me talking but he gives huge repressed Gay energy. Like a lot of his early arc is about graining confidence in himself. Not to mention,his relationship with Warrick and Greg are so filled with undertones and honestly let that man get fucked and some of his problems might go away. Anyway. So I guess more power to the actor for not coming back for even a cameo but I really really felt the lack of him in immortality. So If anyone knows a fanfic where he's there lmk I would read that shit in a heartbeat. Would get drinks with him, would die for him.

Greg Sanders: I love rave going lab rat Greg. I love the new CSI trying to prove himself to Greg. I love mob history author Greg. I mean he's got to be one of the most intelligent characters on the show- he's good at science and history- and it never makes him come off as rude or entitled. I think his shift from lab rat to CSI, whether intentional or accidental, is well built. He is criminally oh I mean so so so criminally underutilized in immortality. I dislike when he's angry and there are certainly episodes where he feels off but overall he's just so lovable. Disgusting hair choices but hey at least that was a consistent trait. His relationship with Nick and Sara throughout the whole show are really great and after 15 seasons they really do feel like they've been a team for 15 years. He gives Huge Bi energy so I would take him to a gay club for drinks and dancing.

Sara Sidle: You can call her a problematic fav all you want but she's a bad bitch and everyone should love her. She is so great at her job and she never lacks humanity. The show kinda lost track of her exact backstory at some point but I don't care too too much as she stays strong willed and passionate the whole show. Her will to never quit and iconic smirks will stay winning forever. I have thoughts on her relationship with Grissom but bottom line she knew what she wanted and got it. Her friendship with all the main cast, particularly Greg and Nick, is really lovely and shows how she has grown and changed over 15 seasons. Because I actually care about continuity I would not get an actual alcoholic drink with her but non alcoholic drinks aplenty would be had if I could meet her.

Ships:

Listen I don't have a real finger on the pulse of what ships are popular as this show finished airing 10 years ago and I was trying to not be super spoiled.

That being said

GSR: I'm not super into Grissom/ Sara ( side note I know the Internet was a different place 20 years ago but who picked GSR as their ship tag), but I'm also not against it. I think they have a big "match my freak" energy which is nice but. I don't know I just feel like by the end of it Sara could do better. Like she gave up the lab director for the guy who asked her for a divorce. I still think it's better than some other options just you know not like my otp. 8/10

Catherine/ Warrick: I think that the flirting was all fun and games and then if became too much. Let's be honest neither of them are built for committed relationships. Probably would have been better then whatever the fuck was happening with Warrick and Tina. 5/10

Catherine/ Vartann: its canonical and like they were fine I didn't hate it didn't love it. Probably better for Catherine in the long term than any other of her potential ships 6/10

Nick/ Greg: idk if this is super popular but it's my otp for the show. They seem like they bring out the best in each other. Nicks more clean cut natural could balance out the more chaotic ature of greg. Obviously with the era the show was made in I don't think that there tension was intentional but it's still there. From the name that chemical compound game to working together until the end of really think they would be great. 11/10

Nick/ Warrick: I had to mention for the just two dudes who have homoerotic tension energy but ehh Warrick dose really read straight to me in every other context. 3/10

Wendy/ Hodges: ehh they give straight white couple who should have just talked about their feelings. 4/10

Hodges/ Henry: is this a real ship? idk man, But it's an friends to enemies to lovers I would love to read. 6/10

Morgan/ Greg: ok part of this is the my ship bias( see above) but I did not like them together. Their flirting is not good, his anger at her kidnapping too extreme, idk I Just really feels like they operate in different levels. 0/10

Morgan/ Hodges: I actually thought this was really sweet and was super said they went with the parents dating thing. I think they understood each other on a really fun level and that they brought out the best in each other. I loved how supportive they were of each other even in seemingly poor decisions. 8/10

Finn/ D.B: I would assume that this is the popular het ship for the them but uhh D.B is so happily married and Finn ( much like Warrick and Catherine) doesn't really give monogamous relationship. 0/10

Finn/ Sara: 100% queer women projection but uhh just imagine post divorce Sara figuring out her identity with Finn and they try friends with benefits but then need more. 6/10

If you made it this far thanks so much for reading and id love to hear others thoughts as I do a deep dive into this show. I Will be reading plenty of fanfiction and may start CSI: NY to appease the new hole in my heart.

[anamelessfool]

Where would Copia take Marian for a date? And vice versa?

They're both homebodies and unless someone reminds them to go do something special for the other they won't even think about it. For a long time they didn't have special "dates" they just spent time together out of habit: first clergy up in the morning so they sit in the courtyard with coffee, picking up items from the office supply store, reading silently next to each other. Being in close proximity is enough for them.

They have a reluctance to try new things. Copia and Marian both share this secret fear that they don't deserve nice things.

Cirrus Ghoul became very invested in TV soap operas when she was summoned and therefore she claims she knows a lot about humans and romantic situations. She first encouraged Copia to do something special for Marian, like go to a fancy restaurant. Copia is a natural skinflint and after some aggressive coaxing from Cirrus he took Marian out on a date to a fancy Italian restaurant. Copia spent some time in Italy studying abroad in his youth, and sharing those memories with Marian over good food encouraged him to take Marian out more. He now loves dressing up and going out with her to music events and different exotic restaurants. His favorite date he ever had with Marian is in Las Vegas, where they went to a fancy restaurant where the plates are too big and the food too small, and Copia had her on his arm at the casino. He really does enjoy gambling. Ironic, really, but he is a man who is fascinated by numbers.

A date with Marian is always weird, unplanned and usually involves some light trespassing or misdemeanors. Copia has no idea how she finds out about the little things around town happening in the wee hours. They usually start late, around 10pm or so. At some food truck parked outside a nightclub or bar or music venue. The truck usually has a secret menu that Marian somehow knows. Then they either wander into whoever is playing a gig at the venue, acting stupid if they get caught. Marian also knows about random basement gigs and they end up being the oldest two people there. ("No, we're not here to pick up our kid, fuck off..") If it's still dark there's either some abandoned greenhouse to break into or weird ruin in the woods she's heard about. If Copia doesn't feel like he's seconds away from being murdered or finding a dead body then it's not a very authentic Marian date.

[jaymber]

Second Conflict

Timeline 20151 - Protagonist : V Temarii

[ First | Previous | Next ]

V managed to pull Nancy out of the Maelstrom nest without much issue. If Johnny was delighted to see her again, V kept quiet. He felt still resentful at the way he had been treated before going to Kerry's mansion. A weird bitter knot was building in his stomach. He had been Johnny's only friend and confident for weeks now, suffering or enjoying the engram's company. Suddenly, old friends were showing up left and right, putting Johnny in a better mood than V ever could. It pissed him off, even more so when Johnny seemed completely clueless to the way he felt.

"Shame Henry blew it," the dead rockerboy kept rambling, "But man, this is preem. Samurai: back for one night, and one night only! Can't remember the last time I felt that excited. Eh, think I do, actually. 2007. One hell of a gig, and an even better afterparty, if you know what I mean." "Johnny, c'mon." "Man, you really are getting jealous," he teased, reappearing before his host, "You're lucky I find it cute. You're like a desperate little groupie. I missed this. Hey, V, wanna feel the real Samurai experience? I have the perfect idea on how to unwind until Nance-"

"I'm good, Johnny," V grumbled as he pushed him away, "Lil' groupie's done for the day."

V laid down in bed in silence after lighting a cigarette. It softened his mood a little, but Johnny didn't take kindly to being ignored.

"Fuck, what got your panties in a twist this time?" he mocked, "Gave me the green light on this idea, want to back off now? Or is this about Kerry? Mad I'm having fun with someone that isn't you, or disappointed I won't give him the Rogue treatment? Huh? Ignoring me, now? Fuck, V, we really back to that?" He simply wouldn't shut up, and V snapped.

"You're a fucking asshole, know that?" he yelled, "Still only fucking care about yourself. Rogue lead you on, and that sucks, but why you gotta make it my fault?" "V, what-" "You acted like I wasn't ever there! I tried talking to you, but you just ignored me! Closest friend? My ass! Only had Kerry on your mind!" "That has nothing to do with Rogue. Sreamsheets said-"

"What fucking screamsheets?" "Right, you weren't there." "Mean when you betrayed my trust?! So why did you wait to get into Rogue's panties first, if checking on your best friend was so important?! That's just another fucking excuse! You just wanted a distraction, and apparently, I wasn't enough." His voice suddenly broke as he swallowed back treacherous tears. He tried to hide his next words, but their minds was one, and they echoed in the tensed silence of the room. I'm nothing compared to them, am I? You're gonna leave me behind now that they're back in your life. "We both know that's not something I can do, V," Johnny said, and, feeling the wave of worry from his host, added, "And I wouldn't. Even if I could."

"Bullshit." "V, it's just old habits. Went to Rogue when I fucked up with Alt, went to Kerry when I fucked up with Rogue. Not used to putting you into that equation just yet. Was in my own head - forgot you were here." "But, I called you. Reach out for you." "Gonna have to listen harder, I guess. And you need to speak louder," he added, "Still need some getting used to - our situation. Usually, I’d just fuck off. Find a quiet place. Cenzon in one hand, Black Lace in the other. Get skizzed out of my mind, and find some easy groupie to bring home.” “Lucky for you: easy groupie's right here.” “You? With your constant whining and ball-busting? You make me work hard to get to you, V.” “And I should apologize for that?” he retorted, still feeling hurt.

“Nah. Thing is: I can’t do that anymore. Can’t wallow on my own. That, I’m still getting used to.” “Do you miss it? That method of yours?” “Why? Up to give me the reins once more?” he hoped. “Nah, but you got the company already. I can provide the buzz. Interested?” he proposed, clinging to the idea he could cheer Johnny up despite his doubts. He needed to feel useful. “See, V?" Johnny said, too distracted by his promise to worry about the knot in their stomach, "Thinking like a real rockerboy.”

[angeltrafalgar]

Kinktober Day 2

MINORD DNE/DNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

Watch Dogs 1 Jordi Chin x Fem reader F/N= fake name

E/C= eye color

“Ok so you are going to use this bad boy, inject him it will instantly stop his heart. Hey and don't fuck this up ok. It will blow back on me if you do, (Y/N)” I roll my eyes at him, “Jordi I get a cut to and you know it. Besides thought this one was my gig. Not like I haven't killed someone before, or had sex with them to kill them.” I hide the syringe in my bra as he checks me over making sure I'm good to go. “Yeah I know, I've watched remember. Besides, you get your cut plenty. Remember the car I bought you last week. Or the jewelry, clothes and new phones. Eh? I got you, you want for nothing. You don't even have to be a fixer anymore, you know.” I smirk at him, “I still like the thrill of it, and plus I know you like to watch.” I smile as I raise my eyebrows, smirking at him. “I'm going to be in the hotel's ctOS system. I set it up already, his bodyguards will let you in the hotel room. Get him on his back and just as he climaxes. Boom dead, the left window is your escape, I've set up everything you need to get away. When you're out we meet back up. I get you away. Also that nice little thing I put in your ear you will be able to hear me all the way.” I nod smiling as he spins me around and sends me on my way. 

As I wait in the elevator I look at my reflection. I know what you will say, Jordi is a sociopath, he's incapable of loving anyone. Being with him is a bad idea. He will sell me out for the right price. Thing is we crossed paths a year ago, it's this weird on and off again thing. He's been at this work longer than I yes but, he's good at it, knows what he's doing. And learned that a woman can go places he can't. Even if he loved or cared about me he will never admit it. In our work love gets you killed, it's a weakness. And weaknesses can always be exploited. 

The ding of the elevator flips my brain as I put on the facade, as the doors open I walk towards the door where two men in suits stand guarding it. As I walk up to them in a seductive smile, “hi I'm (F/N) and I'm here to offer some comfort, and entertainment to your boss.” I smile as I let the jacket fall a bit off my shoulder as they exchange a look but then ultimately let me in. As they let me pass I hear the door shut and lock behind me. 

“Ahh you must be (F/N) my associates told me I would be getting a warm welcome tonight.” I smile at him. Do I know who the fuck this is, or do I care? Fuck no to both. I smile as I take my clothes off as I leave myself in only my bra and panties. “Why don't you get comfortable then I can get to work.” I tell the man in the white dress shirt, as I watch him remove his clothes, I know I'm going to have to slip the syringe out of my bra and hide under the pillow or something before I can finish the job. 

“Good job, now make sure he is happy and the job is done. I clearly have good taste . Those make your tits look bigger, nice ass too.” 

I try to brush off Jodi's voice in my ear. One thing for certain, I have to stay on top. Too much shit can go wrong if I'm not. “Good boy, now close your eyes, I have a surprise for you.” The man does as I say as I walk over to the side of the bed making sure he's not peeking as I take the panties off and slowly take my bra off as I slide the syringe in my hand hiding it under one of the pillows. 

It's not the worst guy i've had to do, I would say this guy is mid to late 40s. Maybe a bit older than Jordi but still. Granted this wouldn't be the first time I've used sex to kill a man, nor will it probably be the last. “You are gorgeous my dear.” 

“He's right on that one you are. Granted I have more class I would say hot as hell but hey. Actually I wanna get a good shot of you from the front.” 

It doesn't take that much foreplay for him to get fully erect, once he is I make it a point to be on top riding. I act like I'm enjoying myself, as my tits bounce I see the small red light in the mirror that I'm looking back at. I know it's him watching. 

“Damn, don't enjoy yourself too much. Hope you can come once. Granted if he doesn't get his grubby mitts off my tits I might just make this job a bit messy eh? Not neat and clean like you want it.” 

I grab the man's wrists and hold them above his head as I work him to the edge as I feel myself enjoy it for a little bit I moan as I feel myself climax, and then for a second I don't her anything, as I look down I see him about to as I elegantly grab the syringe as he does he lets out a loud curse and moan as I jab the needle in his neck. He only has time for his eyes to immediately shoot open as he looks at the lifeless look in my (E/C) as I look down at him before he dies. 

“Damn that made me come as well. Well not quite what I wanted. Clean up, take your stuff and get out of there. I got you as soon as you're out the window.” 

I hear Jordi in my ear as I do just that. I wipe any trace of myself off the guy as I redress as fast as possible, taking the empty syringe with me and its cap. Prints and bodily fluid wiped and gone as I opened the window and took the zipline down Jordi had set up for me. I find him waiting for me in a luxury black car. 

“Thought we were leaving in the one we came in.” I look at him and huff as he collects my escape route “yeah change of plans. I had my guy come get that one and bring me something better. Get in.” He tosses the stuff in the trunk including the empty syringe he takes from my hand as I get in the passenger seat and he the driver's seat as he drives us away from the scene. “Enjoy the show?” I ask with a sly smile. “Yeah, about that. What do ya say we go to this nice penthouse I know. Order some pizza, only this time the pizza boy won't have bolt cutters. Oh and don't worry this time you can be on your back.” He says as I raise my eyebrow, as I see his hand come over from the steering wheel and reach down the mini skirt I was wearing. As his fingers make a scissoring motion inside me. “Because I for one enjoyed the show.” I moan as I smile. Ok yeah I guess I can afford to take the rest of the night and today off. 

After all, I'm sure Jordi still has the footage, and wants to make me squirm. I know we are both in for a good time.

[ruvviks]

– Afterparty.

Characters >> Aubrey Valentine (oc), Sebastian Vidal (other's oc) Total >> 5.8k words Warnings >> Alcohol, blood mention, drugs, NSFW, some vague mentions of uncomfortable sexual experiences, violence mention Context >> It's August 2081, some time after Cassidy and Sebastian return from the spaceship Elysium; the Cobras have started a collaboration with Aubrey's fixer business, which often leads to Aubrey and Sebastian going on gigs together, much like this one Disclaimer >> No cheating going on here, these men are in some weird undefinable polyamorous relationship don't even worry about it

‘Watch your step, darling.’

The motel room was mostly dark, some bright pink neon light from outside pouring in through the half opened door and the blinded window beside it. Both men entering struggled to find the light switch, simultaneously giving up before slamming the door shut behind them.

Not the most ideal way to spend the night- but they could not complain. Motels in Japantown were significantly better than the cheaper variants in neighboring subdistricts and taking the end of their recently finished gig into consideration it was safer than going back home for the night, in case any reinforcements had been sent to track them down.

‘Could’ve gone better, won’t lie,’ Seb said, the mechanical edge to his voice sharper than usual as a result of their long night out. He fumbled taking out his phone, squinting at the screen while turning on his flashlight and he shone it directly into Aubrey’s eyes who immediately attempted- and failed- to slap his hands away.

‘Always room for improvement,’ he mumbled in return, landing a successful hit on Seb’s phone and nearly knocking it out of his hands. ‘I’d say we did quite well considering the circumstances.’

‘Circumstances-? You mean the easily avoidable consequences of our own actions?’

‘I mean the unfortunate reality of the fine and significantly more dead than before young man being heterosexual and not falling for our irresistible charm. How were we supposed to know? Him dressed in a suit like that?’

Of course it was always a gamble- though usually their attempts at seducing security went a lot better than that particular night, where the incident had not only caused them to be unable to gather enough information on their target, but had also caused a huge fight to break out leaving more than a dozen gang members dead and the two of them covered in blood, scrapes and bruises.

Seb sighed a little more dramatically than necessary and put his hand on his hip, still shining the flashlight directly in Aubrey’s face and moving his arm around to dodge his attacks. But the upturn of the usually slightly lopsided corner of his mouth and the shimmer in his pale blue eyes told Aubrey the adrenaline of the fight was still in the other man’s system, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling the same thing too.

‘We did what we could, and there’s always next time,’ he said, finally managing to get a hold of Seb’s phone and he tossed it on the nightstand, the flashlight illuminating the ceiling above their heads. ‘We know where the target is- can always get them tomorrow.’

‘Love how you keep saying “we”,’ Seb interrupted him, taking a step closer- using every single one of the nearly four inches they differed in height to tower over Aubrey, who felt anything but intimidated. ‘Shifting blame, now?’

‘Are you saying it’s my fault?’

‘I’m not not saying it.’

‘Curious.’

‘Interesting.’

‘Now you’re just saying words back at me.’

Seb wiggled his eyebrows and Aubrey rolled his eyes, turning his head away- though before he could do that a strong hand suddenly grabbed his jaw, locking his head in place, and he sucked in a shallow breath when Seb pulled him in and leaned a little closer.

‘Trying to change the subject?’ he asked, not loosening his grip but simultaneously gently running his thumb over the edge of Aubrey’s cyberjaw. ‘We failed the gig, Bee. And I wanna know why.’

They’d been drinking.

Not as if it did them much; both men could easily down several bottles in a night and would barely suffer the consequences the next morning, a mild headache and some dizziness at worst but nothing an ibuprofen or- well, another shot or two- couldn’t fix.

But the influence of the alcohol, as little as it was- mixed with whatever drugs they’d been snorting and inhaling and shotgunning directly into each other’s mouths and the leftover adrenaline from the fight- was causing Aubrey’s head to spin in a way he had never expected it to in the presence of Sebastian of all people.

And naturally when said man reached up his other hand to wipe some blood off his cheek, Aubrey in turn grabbed his wrists and shoved him back into the wall, pinning his hands above his head and barely able to suppress a smile when a noise of surprise left Seb’s throat.

‘Too close for comfort?’ Aubrey playfully asked, though tilted his head in genuine questioning manner as he waited for Seb to respond- a simple shake of the head, causing the tips of their noses to brush past one another.

‘Perhaps you do have a point,’ he continued, tightening his grip on Seb’s wrists when he tried to wriggle himself free. ‘Suppose I was a little distracted. Rarely happens. Caught me on a bad day it seems.’

That was a lie. Aubrey was very easily distracted by everything around him, though that was not nearly what he was aiming for with his monologue, his free hand running down Seb’s half exposed chest under the glittery suit jacket that he was wearing- before he hooked his thumb into it to pull the single button holding the two halves together loose.

‘See?’ Seb said in return, slightly arching his back from the wall and rolling his hips forward- similar to how the two of them had danced together in that overcrowded club while on the gig, and it was almost as if Aubrey could hear the music play in the distance again. ‘So easy to just admit when you’ve done something wrong.’

‘Hm- You’re right. I’m sorry.’

The whiny undertone of Aubrey’s voice was feigned, though his spiked heartbeat was very much real, as was the blood rushing down when Seb’s hips collided with his own once more. He leaned in- ‘I won’t let it happen again,’ whispered right against Seb’s skin while pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his lips.

It was funny, how their relationship had developed over time.

To think that Aubrey had been jealous of Sebastian at first- scared of, well, what, exactly? That Leon would fall for a man in a committed relationship with someone else and Aubrey would no longer have a chance with him?

Seb finally managed to free his hands from Aubrey’s grip and cupped his cheek with one, the other freely roaming his mostly naked torso under the thin mesh shirt he was wearing. Their foreheads still rested against each other- and Aubrey grabbed Seb’s shoulder tightly when his thigh was gripped with equal force, foot lifted from the floor when Seb pulled his leg up to his own.

‘Good,’ he breathed, lips brushing past Aubrey’s with a hint of a smile lingering on them. ‘Wouldn’t want to get punished for it now, would we?’

From a strained collaboration in Elysium- circumstances leaving them with no alternative and Aubrey’s initial wariness of the two strangers on the spaceship lingering longer than necessary- to perfectly in sync teamwork back in Night City, both in their respective businesses as well as in the field. The last thing Aubrey had expected to happen; as well as all the kissing and dry humping in their work breaks, but he was all but complaining.

He leaned in even further, leaving a trail of kisses on Seb’s cyberjaw all the way to his ear- ‘Maybe you should, make sure it won’t happen ever again,’ teeth grazing past the sensitive skin just around his cyberware and tugging on one of his earrings.

‘I’ve been told I’m good at that,’ Seb replied, nails dragging over Aubrey’s thigh as he instead grabbed his ass and gave it a squeeze. And Aubrey merely pushed himself closer, tight pants even tighter now that he had given in to the tension in his lower abdomen and he reached up to grab Seb’s jaw-

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’

It was always exciting to kiss Seb- the sweet and sour taste of the cherry candy cocktail he’d been sipping away at earlier that night spilling into Aubrey’s mouth like a drug entering his bloodstream and causing his head to spin. A muffled moan left his lips when Seb eagerly bit his lower lip- and another followed when the other man took advantage of the moment by pushing his tongue into Aubrey’s mouth, teeth clacking together as they both pushed themself as close to the other as physically possible in the slightly out of sync kiss.

He felt weightless; quite literally so, lifted off his feet by Seb who tossed him on the bed and lowered himself on top of him, locking him in place though keeping most his weight on his forearms still.

‘Are you going to be a good boy for me?’ he asked, purposely deepened voice accentuating the raw, mechanical edge to it even more so than before.

‘Can’t make any promises,’ Aubrey breathed in return, grabbing Seb’s jacket to yank him down for another kiss- though Seb was stronger and pulled back right before their lips could touch, leaning down further to move toward his ear instead and causing the hairs in Aubrey’s neck to stand up straight.

‘That’s alright,’ he whispered, and pressed his lips right on the spot where Aubrey’s cyberjaw connected with his skin.

‘I’ll make sure you behave one way or another.’

Aubrey had heard that sentence before. Many, many times.

Had never had the money to go to college himself but had had enough friends to essentially live on campus with them, hopping from dorm to dorm- payment through providing tech services, shady hacking jobs or, well, through other means- free access to any and every party and other activities they participated in.

And he had always been so easily influenced by others. A strange need to fit in, in a way; perhaps not in appearance or behavior, but through playing along with their little games, people-pleasing left and right by doing everything they wanted of him just to feel something, just to feel like he was part of something, just to not be all alone.

How often Aubrey had found himself pinned to a mattress in someone’s shitty dorm room or in a random motel, hands freely traveling over his body, lips and teeth marking territory, hips rolling down and colliding with his own; how often had he stared at the ceiling caught in a haze of pleasure, breathing in the same air as the person- or people- on top of him, or underneath him, how often had he surrendered himself completely to strangers just to feel alive.

And he had loved every single second of it.

But it had never felt right.

Aubrey wrapped his arms around Seb’s neck and pulled him closer, lips brushing past each other before he slightly turned his head and instead licked some blood off Seb’s cheek. The bitter, metallic taste barely bothered him- he had become familiar enough with it over time after everything that had happened in Elysium- and leaned in for another kiss when a quiet whine left Seb’s lips.

‘Eager tonight, huh?’ Seb mumbled in return, his thighs locking Aubrey into place the second he attempted to push himself closer. ‘What’s the rush?’

‘None of your business,’ Aubrey mumbled back- but the sudden higher pitch of his voice and his heart racing in his chest gave him away and his eyes fluttered shut when Seb left a trail of kisses along his jaw all the way to his ear.

He still often could not help but wonder how things had changed so suddenly for them. He and Seb were friends, nothing more- right?- and both in a committed relationship with someone else, and while Aubrey was polyamorous and would not mind at all to broaden his horizons he had no idea if anyone else involved would be okay with that.

Yet somewhere along the way they had started to kiss each other. An accident at first- less so of an accident the second time round, and Cassidy and Leon were fine with it so obviously it had kept happening in the heat of the moment after jobs, during jobs, hell, whenever they would find a moment in the car waiting for a target or client to show up.

After all, why wouldn’t he? Seb was a very attractive man, a fighter on the surface but a lover first and foremost with a gentleness to him that nearly exceeded Leon; Aubrey would be lying if he said he had expected any of that from the man who had once been meant to become an Arasaka killing machine.

Gentle, and kind, and careful- teeth grazing past Aubrey’s ear and breath hot on his skin but lips curled up in a little smile as he pressed another kiss on Aubrey’s jaw, who in return could barely suppress a whiny sigh while running a hand through Seb’s silvery gray hair.

‘What’s the matter, Aubrey?’ Seb whispered in his ear, tightening his thighs around Aubrey’s hips the second his hair was pulled on with a bit more force than initially meant for. ‘You seem restless. Anything I can do to help?’

Aubrey was unable to answer, breathing shallow and head spinning as Seb rolled his hips forward and grinded down on him causing blood to rush down even more than it already had. Seb dipped his head forward- ‘Use your words, baby,’ softly whispered against Aubrey’s skin before he pressed a kiss on his neck and let his hand travel up Aubrey’s mesh shirt to grab his chest.

Is this really happening?

Another whine escaped Aubrey’s lips and he reached down for Seb’s waist, pulling him closer as his mouth involuntarily opened and he was only just able to suppress a shaky moan. And Seb kissed him again- somehow messier than before, thumb running over Aubrey’s nipple and his other hand gently holding his neck.

One thing would lead to another and before he would know it, it was already too late.

It had left him with more regrets than he could count on his hands, but his desperation- and addiction, to a certain degree- had rendered him unable to stop making the same damn mistakes over and over again, like a broken record player blasting the same old tune on full volume for everyone to hear.

And even now, still, Seb’s jacket draped over the doorknob of the motel room’s entrance, Aubrey’s mesh shirt dropped on the floor and their shoes kicked off and scattered across the room, it was happening again- but this felt like anything but a mistake, Seb’s body heavy on his own but comforting in a way only few had managed to do in all of those years, and despite the man’s teeth once more digging themselves into his lip and his hands gripping Aubrey’s body tight enough for bruises to take shape he felt safer than he had felt at any point earlier that night.

‘Mmh- Fuck, baby,’ Seb breathed, briefly pulling back to gasp for air but before he could fully do so Aubrey had already yanked him back by his necklace and he allowed Seb to steal the air from his lungs, the taste of his lips more addicting than any amount of pleasure he could give him. He moved his hands down, grabbing Seb’s thighs- nails digging through the tight leather into his flesh and it was met with an approving whine directly into Aubrey’s mouth.

How good it felt, to be that close to someone. How good it felt to trust someone enough to let them take full control- and in that moment Aubrey would let Seb do anything to him, desperately attempting to spread his legs locked between the other man’s thighs just a little further, searching for just a little more friction.

His desperation had never been all that reciprocated.

Not in the way he meant it, at least; obviously wanting the pleasure, but wanting the vulnerability too, both the physical as well as the emotional closeness with another human being he could not easily get out of any other situation. His past partners had mostly been chasing their own high- and their own finish- leaving Aubrey satisfied enough in the end but still wondering where he’d gone wrong.

But Seb was different.

The constant grinding since he had tossed Aubrey on the bed, the not-so-subtle glances to check his reactions between kisses and teases, the soft smiles before his teeth would dig into the sensitive skin of Aubrey’s neck- his fingertips leaving a burning trail behind on Aubrey’s skin as they traveled down and locked his hips into place, one hand slipping into the front of his pants drawing an embarrassingly loud moan from his lips.

‘I’ll be honest with you, this- this doesn’t feel like- like punishment much,’ Aubrey breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he rolled his hips forward to meet the rhythmical movements of Seb’s hand in the middle. ‘But I’m not complaining.’

‘I can tell.’ A quiet giggle left Seb’s lips with the statement and he sank his teeth into Aubrey’s shoulder again, speeding up the slightest bit when another moan rolled off Aubrey’s tongue.

‘Now shut up and let me do my job, yes?’

‘Yessir.’

‘Good boy.’

Aubrey’s head was spinning.

Seb gently held his waist and Aubrey instantly grabbed his hand, squeezing a little as Seb began leaving soft kisses from his shoulder down over his collarbones and chest, following the curve of the cyberware crossing over his side to his hip and then back to his tummy and down his happy trail-

Surely he was dreaming.

The feeling of the other man’s lips locking around him was enough to raise Aubrey’s back from the mattress, arching into Seb’s gentle touch as he tilted his head up and opened his mouth for a soundless moan. The wave of relief quickly settled deep within his stomach; and he reached down to rest his hand on Seb’s head, fingers burying themselves in his hair.

Surely he was dreaming. Right?

Aubrey glanced down, barely able to see Seb through the haze of his own pleasure- their gazes met in the middle and Seb briefly pulled back, reassuringly smiling up at him before pressing a kiss on his tip and without hesitation took him back in his mouth, drawing yet another moan from Aubrey’s lips and he quickly covered his face with his free hand, biting down in a mostly futile attempt to keep quiet.

Oh, he was definitely awake.

His grip on Seb’s hair tightened instantly and Seb moaned, the vibrations sending shivers up Aubrey’s spine. But suddenly the warmth of his mouth was gone- ‘No, please, don’t stop-’- uttered before he could stop himself but simply met with Seb bringing himself back to eye level to gently remove Aubrey’s hand from his mouth and kiss him when Aubrey tried to protest, cheeks rapidly flushing red.

‘It’s okay, baby,’ Seb hummed, thigh brushing past Aubrey leaving him throbbing and tightening the building pressure in his abdomen. He leaned in closer to Aubrey’s ear, gently biting down before speaking up again-

‘I want to hear you.’

Curious, how self-conscious Aubrey could still get from time to time.

But he put no more thought into it, the gentle encouragement enough for him to let the worries slide off his shoulders as Seb moved back down and pulled Aubrey’s legs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around his thighs before getting back to work.

And he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, cheeks hollow and eyes locked on Aubrey’s face- hand wrapped around his base and rhythmically moving along with the bobbing of his head, the occasional soft moan leaving his throat whenever Aubrey’s grip on his hair would tighten.

It felt so good.

Of course it did- Seb could do anything to him and Aubrey would enjoy every second of it, just like with Leon. The mere fact that it was them- not someone else, not some stranger he had only met a few hours ago but two men who Aubrey loved more than anything else in the world- it never failed to make him lose himself in his pleasure, muscles desperately tightening as he could feel himself getting close.

And Seb took notice too, significantly speeding up and grabbing Aubrey’s ass to pull him even closer, the cool metal of his tongue piercing dragging over Aubrey’s length and his hips lifted off the mattress once more to get himself as close to Seb’s touch as possible while another desperate whine left his lips-

And all of it was enough to push him over the edge with a relieved sigh, hips twitching as his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he pleadingly held Seb’s head in place; though it had not been necessary in the first place, the other man making no attempt to move away from him and instead eagerly pulling him closer, not stopping until Aubrey had given him everything he had left to give.

‘Fuck, that was good.’

Aubrey smiled at the compliment as he lifted his head, scrunching up his nose when Callum ruffled his hair. He left a soft kiss on the other man’s hip, then quickly moved his way back up and leaned in to kiss him- only to be met with Callum’s finger pressing against his lips.

‘Go wash your mouth first, honey,’ he absently mumbled, yawning as he shrugged Aubrey off and turned on his side. ‘Don’t feel like tasting myself on you.’

And for some reason, Aubrey had listened to him.

He had always listened to him.

And that very night he had once again made his way through the bedroom to the bathroom, quiet as he could as to not wake the others who had already been fast asleep, and he had cleaned himself up as Callum had told him to despite knowing his partner would no longer be awake the second he would return and he would have to curl up on the edge of the bed all by himself.

‘Good night, love,’ Aubrey whispered against Callum’s back, pressing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades and wincing when Callum groaned and rolled closer to Reyes instead.

He still missed them, sometimes.

Aubrey sucked in a shallow breath and nervously glanced down, watching as Seb carefully lowered his legs on the mattress and looked up at him with a soft smile on his face. Aubrey ran his hand through Seb’s hair again- then down past his cyberware, fingertips trailing the freckles scattered across his cheekbones and nose- gently resting it on the back of his neck to pull him up, lifting his head from the pillow to meet Seb’s lips in the middle.

A desperate but hesitant kiss, his heart skipping a beat or two when Seb momentarily tensed up against him; though his initial surprise washed off within seconds, melting into the kiss with similar passion as before but with a newfound softness that made Aubrey wish the moment would never end.

But before he knew it he was on his stomach, pinned to the mattress once more with Seb’s full body weight on top of him and his hands gripping Aubrey’s hips with significantly more force than before. Surely he was just fucking dreaming- the thought once more bouncing around in his skull as he gripped the sheets and whined into the pillow, momentarily unable to find a comfortable position.

‘Shh,’ Seb quietly shushed him, lifting his hips to give Aubrey more space and gently running his fingers through his hair. ‘You’re okay. Just relax.’

Another shiver ran down Aubrey’s spine when Seb’s lips left a soft kiss on the back of his neck- and another one a little further down on his back, and another one on his shoulder- covering him in sweet little kisses until the tension vanished from Aubrey’s body and he reached around to bury his fingers in Seb’s hair again, the other man’s hand guiding him so he could get a better grip.

The pleasure was always worth the pain.

But there was a clear difference between enduring and enjoying, Aubrey’s limits often tested in the past by inexperienced or impatient lovers, or his own efforts cut short after an early finish on the receiving end and their wish to not continue further.

And in the heat of the moment it had not bothered him all that much, time after time after time; just happy it had happened in the first place, finding satisfaction in the parts he had enjoyed. A nearly pathetic search for the positive- in what he had later found out had mostly been negative- in an attempt to reassure himself that he was fine, to convince himself it hadn’t hurt half as much as it’d actually done.

‘What’s the matter, Bee? You like it rough, don’t you?’

The other man did not even give him time to adjust and Aubrey quickly buried his face in his pillow on the next slow thrust to muffle his whines. It was true, he supposed- he did not mind being manhandled even a little bit, so why would this be any different?

Seb was not impatient like that.

He gently brushed Aubrey’s hair out of his neck and pressed a kiss on his skin, hands traveling down his sides and holding his hips to prop him up- fingers slowly working their magic as he waited for Aubrey to turn his head so he could leave a kiss on his cheek and Aubrey wondered if Seb knew it had been a while since his last time.

‘Want me to stop?’ he hummed in Aubrey’s ear, running his free hand through his hair and planting another kiss on his temple as he patiently waited for an answer- and when Aubrey quickly shook his head in response he smiled and slowly pulled out his fingers, drawing another loud moan from Aubrey’s lips and Seb gently held his hip as he lined himself up.

One thing would lead to another and before he would know it, it was already too late.

It had just been a simple gig; follow a target into a club, gather the information necessary and get out through the back door without drawing any attention to themselves. Well within their capabilities, a job like any other- but their overconfidence- lately bordering on arrogance more than either of them would willingly admit- had led them down the much more primitive path of violence, leaving them empty-handed, bloodied, and fucking high on adrenaline.

And somehow it had led them there to that flashlight-lit shitty motel room, Aubrey’s back arched into those first few slow and gentle thrusts as his eyes glossed over and a strong hand on the back of his neck held him pinned in place, thumb running in small circles over his cyberware.

But he could not complain.

Of course he did not know how much of it was genuine; of course he did not know how under the influence either of them exactly were, how much of what Seb did was merely to have fun and mess around and how much of it was-

How much of it was real, he supposed.

But it did not matter in that moment, the moans spilling from either of their lips loud enough to be heard from outside- not even the distant music and chatter from the bar could drown it out- echoing between the four walls enclosing them, in sync with the sound of Seb’s hips colliding with Aubrey’s own.

He loosened his grip on Seb’s hair and dropped his arm, searching for his hand instead and shaky fingers attempted to intertwine but failed to get a grip with each bounce of his body. But Seb noticed; and gently pinned Aubrey’s wrist to the mattress, tattooed fingers curling between his own and squeezing softly as he picked up his pace.

‘Harder,’ Aubrey blurted out, eyes fluttering shut and muscles tightening when Seb’s movements briefly faltered as if the request had caught him off guard, ‘please.’ Adjusted well enough by then to be able to take it and desperate for more, with his heart beating rapidly in his chest and breathing shallow in his throat as he felt a second climax steadily building up.

And of course Seb listened to him and wasted no time- teeth digging into Aubrey’s shoulder as he pulled him closer and his thrusts went deeper and more out of control, Aubrey’s eyes closing once more in response and the pleasure overwhelming him to the point no sound left his lips anymore all while Seb moaned loud enough for the both of them combined.

He did not regret it.

Aubrey loved Seb; no matter what others thought of the two of them, no matter what label could be put on what they had- he undeniably loved that man to pieces and no amount of drugs and booze could feign such adoration.

And again he did not know how reciprocated it was; knowing well enough just how much Seb loved Cassidy, knowing well enough he himself had been in merely a fraction of the other man’s life and knowing better than anyone that sex more than often meant absolutely nothing to some people, and this here could easily be very much the same.

‘Mmh- Fuck, Aubrey,’ Seb moaned, grip on Aubrey’s hand and hip tightening and his nails digging deep into flesh, his breath shaky and hot on the back of his neck and lips barely brushing past his skin.

Please don’t stop now, was all Aubrey could think in return- face pressed into the pillow and free hand reaching for Seb’s hair again, fingers fumbling to get a grip as he rocked his hips back into Seb’s thrusts as much as he could and he whined when he felt Seb finish buried deep inside of him-

And relief washed over him for the second time that night, whole body left shivering as a sob of pleasure escaped his throat and he collapsed on the mattress, Seb lowering himself on top of him and pressing his lips against his neck while still slightly moving his hips as he filled Aubrey up.

It was quiet in the room, now.

Aubrey let go of Seb’s hair and hand, a quiet and involuntary whine leaving his lips when Seb slowly pulled out and rolled himself off of him. And for a split second he could not stop himself from panicking- suddenly terrified the other man would get up and leave, leave him all by himself in that motel room, confirming his fears that it had all meant nothing-

He’d been left alone a few too many times in the past.

Perhaps that’s why he still missed them.

Perhaps he was still expecting them to come back.

Aubrey finally moved, carefully turning himself on his side as he cautiously watched Seb stretch and roll over to the arguably cleaner side of the bed. He hesitantly shuffled a little closer, head still spinning from- everything, by then, and as much as he knew it would be a smart move to get up to drink some water he was way too exhausted for that.

‘C’mere,’ Seb suddenly quietly said, his voice somehow even more mechanical than it had been before but it did not take away any of the gentleness to it, hands reaching out to grab Aubrey’s to pull him closer; and he allowed him to do so, shaky exhale leaving his chest as Seb wrapped his arms around him and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

He did not regret it.

Of course he didn’t- how could he? Safe and sound in Sebastian’s arms, face buried in his neck with the other man’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, their legs intertwined. He loved being close to him and whether Seb did too or not did not matter in that very moment, his face buried in Aubrey’s hair and fingertips gently running in circles over his skin.

Aubrey tilted his head and kissed Seb’s cyberjaw, following the curve sloping toward his chin up to his lips and Seb eagerly kissed him back, pulling him as close as physically possible while his tongue found its way back into Aubrey’s mouth.

It felt very real to him, either way. That had to count for something.

‘Good night,’ Seb softly mumbled against his lips, the kiss by then so slow that their heads were merely resting against each other and Aubrey smiled, reaching up to brush some of Seb’s hair out of his face.

‘Good night, darling,’ he whispered back, pressing a last little kiss on the corner of his mouth; but Seb was already fast asleep, head heavy on his pillow and arms still wrapped around Aubrey- perhaps even tighter than before, somehow, but Aubrey could not complain.

He carefully reached over Seb’s shoulder to grab his phone from the nightstand, turning off the flashlight and leaving the both of them wrapped in the darkness of the motel room. The neon lights outside poured in just enough for Aubrey to be able to see the outline of Seb’s arm, steadily rising and falling with each breath he took.

‘Hey- Where are you going?’

Aubrey blinked and turned back to look at Leon, who shoved two of his pillows out of the way and reached out for him, not lowering his arms until Aubrey was back within hand’s reach and he could wrap his arms around his neck to pull him closer.

‘Just wanted to brush my teeth-’ Aubrey quietly explained but his sentence was cut short by Leon’s mouth on his own, sharp fangs teasingly digging into his lower lip and hands burying themselves in his hair.

‘Who cares?’ Leon mumbled, eyes half closed when he pulled back and that goofy little grin on his face Aubrey loved so much, rendering him unable to stop a similar smile from spreading on his face as Leon kissed him again with such force it nearly knocked both of them off the bed.

Everything was different now.

Aubrey often had to remind himself of that fact- it was easy to forget, now that he was back in Night City and on a surface level everything still looked the same, down to the decisions he would take that would lead him to a situation such as the one he’d found himself in at that very moment.

He gently ran his fingers over Seb’s cheek and through his hair, struggling to keep his eyes open as the reality of it all finally started to kick in; and he suddenly realized he had forgotten to call Leon after they had reached the motel, and had not even managed to send him a text before- well, things had escalated.

Surely he will understand, right?

That was going to be interesting to explain the next morning.

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Proximity Alarm! Or, What Even Is Culture? Or, Funny, You Sure Look Jewish...

I've gotta get this out of my head because it's... Well, the thing is, it's NOT weird to me, but I think it would be weird to other people, so I'm just trying to calibrate myself. The following will be tangled brain yarn.

I'm name-checking an old joke, but maybe you never strayed across it. A little old lady on the bus says to a younger man, "Pardon me, are you Jewish?" He says, "No, sorry." But she really won't let up about it, she's asking him if he knows certain families in her neighbourhood and trying to get him to trust her and open up and finally he loses all patience and says, "Okay! You found me out! I am Jewish! Will there be anything else?" And the punchline, of course, is "Funny, you don't look Jewish."

I've strayed across a fellow NB who shares a lot of my intersections, but the European side of their family is Jewish and mine is Catholic, except...

Right away, our roots are in Eastern Europe, so I let them know, Hey, we eat a lot of the same food! Potato pancakes and Manischewitz, right off the bat. I probably could've namechecked kolache and had some recognition too, due to the Slavic countries trading language like Pokémon cards.

But it's not just that. I picked up a lot of stray Yiddish as a kid, either from people who were near or in my family. I try not to use it now, because somebody might get upset when I step on their culture... But if I grew up with it, what do you call it?

I think part of this is because my mom ALMOST married a certified Nice Jewish Boy. He had a delicate old grandmother who would have literally died if she knew he was engaged to a Catholic girl. Mom had to go to synagogue and pass, and prepare to convert. Grandma lived, even if the engagement didn't, so I gotta figure Mom did pass, or Bubbie was smarter than she let on and just let the family pretend. But, all that stuff my mom picked up, on top of the Eastern European background, she kept.

So, my standard, "bounce the fussy baby" song was "Hava Nagila." Mom also taught my cousin Debbie and her kids got bounced to that song! I probably learned how to sing that, phonetically, before I could walk. I had a book with Schlemiel stories in it. I knew how to keep the pastrami and the corned beef Kosher, even if not what to call it. CHEESE? No! We don't put cheese on this meat! Unthinkable! Deli mustard, okay? I didn't have a Reuben with Swiss until I was well into my adult years. I dunno, it just seemed wrong. (I got over it, I like 'em now.)

The result of this is, when I was a kid, I wasn't even trying to pass and I passed. I got a babysitting gig with a Jewish family. I saw the Manischewitz in the pantry with the matzohs and said, "Oh, my mom and Nana love this. Yours too?" The kid couldn't contain herself anymore, and spoke the opening line of that old joke, "Are you JEWISH?" With disbelief. 'Cos I resemble my dad's side of the family too, just with fairer skin. I don't look Jewish.

But I kinda do, too?

And I wonder. I was told my great grandmother on my grandpa's side spoke "Swiss," almost exclusively, such that my mom couldn't understand her. Not Czech, that was different. Well, "Swiss" ain't a language, so what was it? I assumed, because Mom really didn't like Germans, it must've been German. She refused to say "Czech-German," even. She'd say, "Czech-Swiss." That side of the family emigrated from Prague when it was still in Bohemia, well before admitting to Jewish heritage would've gotten you dead in the Holocaust, but there was antisemitism in Eastern Europe at that time too. Kinda always? People got converted by force, and just to blend in. Mom wouldn't have been able to tell between Yiddish and German as a kid. I mean, they're close.

I do know she reprimanded me for saying "schmuck" as a small child. "No, no, that's really rude." "Can I say 'putz'?" "...That's a little better."

And I remember, as she was arranging us in the mirror one day, she told us we had "noble noses." Roman noses. It seemed weird to me, that why I remember. I didn't have a problem with my nose. Why go out of your way to tell me what to call the shape of it? I don't think it even looks particularly "Roman," although it does turn down slightly at the tip. Grandpa's was similar, but more pronounced. Did he go out of his way to tell her it was called that? Did his mom do the same? Is this merely the result of swimming in the bog-standard antisemitism of the past and wanting to differentiate yourself from your Jewish neighbors in the nicest possible way, or are we hiding something?

I'm divorced from my family. I got no one I can ask. But even as a kid, the Pribek family history vanished at Ellis Island somewhere around the turn of the 20th century. We looked for 'em and couldn't find 'em, so a name change may have occurred. My dad had a genealogy hobby and traced the Gonzalez clan all the hell over the place, but Pribek resisted the level of research he was able to do at the time. Joss, my maternal grandma's family, was doable. We found a baseball hall-of-famer! But Pribek? No. I was told, vaguely, that a distant relative had a statue somewhere in Prague, but I don't have a name to look for.

While I was in high school with that babysitting gig, I participated in "Knowledge Bowl" basically a pub quiz, but we'll call it educational and put it on our college applications. The teacher helping us "train" divided up subjects and tried to assign us to learn things we were already familiar with. She was Jewish. She surveyed a pool of mainly Hispanic, white, and South Asian kids and said, "Does anyone know anything about Judaism?" Nope. Nope. Finally, my smartass hand goes up, to be funny. "I've seen Fiddler on the Roof a bunch of times!" I had. We had it on VHS. I got the laugh I wanted, and the teacher said, "Okay, then you learn about Judaism!"

It wasn't much. I memorized some Cliff notes-style information and forgot most of the details, until I took World Religion in college and got reminded. But, broad strokes, I already had most of it. I had the idea of it. Not "obey the law" like Catholicism - Catholics famously do not read the Bible - but know the law, so you can have an argument about it and defend your position. OK, God. I've read your demands. Now let's negotiate!

What the heck do you call growing up so near a thing, but being told over and over again that you're not of it? That's not you. We just do all these very similar things for a different reason. Even if you look a bit similar, it's for a different reason. It's all explainable that way, I guess, but it's still in my brain. So whose culture is it? What even is "culture"?

I honestly don't know, but if you come to my house with latkes, I will steal them and eat them. Seriously, I've done that. I think they were leftovers, but later it occurred to me that my husband's friend may have intended to take them home and eat them himself. I'm so sorry, my dude. You had to put up with your friend's apparently-Mexican spouse screaming, "ARE THOSE LATKES? I LOVE LATKES!" and running for the sour cream and applesauce.

They were really good, though.

[iamnotathornbird]

so i posted something yesterday that i later decide to take down after i saw another tumblr post that i felt like was maybe calling me out for what i said, and i felt bad and wondered if i was unintentionally callous. and... i've been thinking about it all day and i still feel bad about it, so i want to clarify some things. i don't know if this is because my emotional response to things can be very different than what everyone else around me seems to act/feel sometimes, or because i just happened to be exposed to a lot of illness and death in my early years, so when it comes to people dying i feel like i tend to react differently than most people i interact with. anyways. i wasn't trying to be like, "jeez, it's so annyoing that angus cloud died so he can't film euphoria season three." that's not how i feel, and that's not what i meant, and i apologize for offending anyone in the fandom or any fans of angus cloud. when i posted about euphoria season three, fexi, and how angus' death IRL means that the character of fez is dead now, too, i wasn't trying to be weird or complaining about the show. for me, i don't have any emotional attachment to angus cloud as a person because i don't know him. i recognize that his death is sad, i feel bad for his family and friends that are left behind to deal with this loss, but it does not affect me the same way from an emotional standpoint, and my reaction to hearing about his death was similar to hearing that paul reubens also recently passed away.

however -- and i recognize that both euphoria and fezco are not "real" -- i do feel emotionally attached to the character of fezco. i've spent many hours over many months fangirling over fexi. i know he wears m&m pajama pants, watches little house on the prairie and have spent way too many times rewatching the NYE couch scene. none of this is real though. i know this. but i have no clue who angus cloud was as a person, and as a fan, i've always felt like it's okay to separate the character from the actor, because it's a role they're playing, and not necessarily who they are as a person (even if they may share similarities). so, just as i've genuinely cried over the deaths of other fictional characters (al giardello, dobby, finnick odair), who i also recognize are not real, it doesn't mean that i didn't feel genuine emotions over their fictional deaths. because, for me, it felt like loss, and brought up feelings that i've experience when people close to me IRL have died. if we never saw fezco grace our screens again because sam levinson decided to write him off of the show, or angus cloud got another acting gig, that would be one thing, and i wouldn't feel sad. but that's not what happened. fezco o'neill will never grace our screens again, because the man who so beautifully portrayed him lost his battle with mental health, and that is a tragedy.

[longeyelashedtragedy]

do jewish people believe in spirits/ghosts?? i am considering converting for my fiance but i don't know if my belief in ghosts is a problem.

hi, well first of all, if your fiance is jewish there might be some stuff you already know, so i apologize if i come off as condescending at any point!

ah, the eternal question--whenever someone asks "do jewish people believe--" i hope they are prepared for frustration because judaism has become--de facto if not de jure--a very flexible and individually-customizable beast while still requiring a need for some sort of community. like sure, there are 613 commandments and a whole bunch of rules that we in-community kind of poke fun of, but people in the Conservative tradition, Reform, Reconstructionist, or just unaffiliated often wind up kind of picking and choosing what to believe/do. i assume frum (orthodox) folks are adhering much more in unison to the rules, but even so, judaism and its scholarly tradition requires study and debate, and often leaves a matter resolved with a "we don't know," so this by nature leaves a lot of diversity of belief in its wake.

i hope all jews believe there is only one (1) god, who does not exist in any corporeal form, and i hope we all believe to an extent in some of the founding myths (in all their many interpretations), and in the power of doing mitzvot (good deeds) here on earth in the moment instead of living for the afterlife. and--it's genuinely shocked me how many times i've had to explain this since i left the nyc bubble--very important, we don't believe that jesus was in any way a part of god, or a god figure, or even a prophet--he was just an irl historical figure who was very influential (and very human). well, you probably know that, but maybe someone who is reading this doesn't. Other than that i've seen people believe or not believe all kindsa weird shit, but it's their business.

so does judaism believe in ghosts? hmm. well, i do if that helps--i do very strongly based on personal experiences i've had, and i'm literally employed by my synagogue very part-time to lead services lol. (i used to have a sort of steady weekend gig back in the day but they ran out of money lmaooo whole long story.) i don't believe in like, ghosts in a white sheet going ooOooOoooo, but more like a vibe, a presence you can feel, of a soul/souls or their essence that was trapped in a place. (the way i've felt in certain sites in europe that i literally had no idea had nazi activity, oh boy!) devarim, the 5th book of the bible, has some prohibitions about not trying to contact the dead, which implies to me that maybe whoever wrote down the words of the torah (was it god? or, well--that's a whole nother debate, whoo.) thinks the dead do exist in a state that could be contacted, implying some sort of ghost or spirit.

there also is a lot of jewish mysticism that i don't know a lot about, where i'm sure the supernatural comes up, but another takeaway i can provide is that "the dead" are quite present in religious services even though judaism as a whole focuses very hard on the living and has few answers for what happens in the afterlife. during every service you say something called the "mourner's kaddish" (prayer). normally the kaddish is sung with various different melodies depending on the point in the service, but the mourner's kaddish is chanted by the rabbi or service leader, and the congregation chimes in at certain points. if you are in mourning for a loved one, whether it's within a year of them passing or the anniversaries (yahrzeit) of their death, you will stand to recite the prayer, BUT people also stand "for those who have nobody to stand for them" and during every service, usually sandwiched between some very lively songs, you stop to remember the dead and i swear in that room you can feel something, man, there's something. you're not just there with the people whose faces you can see.

do jewish people believe in spirits and ghosts? i would say you definitely can. you can see if you can work those beliefs into a standard jewish belief system, or if you can't, and they're at odds with other things about judaism you do like, there's meaning to be found in that struggle too. after all one of the patriarchs of judaism, jacob, is eventually given the name yisrael which means "wrestle with god," and that name became representative of the jewish people as a whole, at least in prayer. but i think there's a lot of things about judaism that imply that there other things in a room, in a space, in the universe, that are not corporeal.

this was a useless and very jewish style answer but i hope it can help! good luck to you and your fiance.

[reyesmarconi]

João Miguel Francisco Zaga Galhardo alias Frank Zaga. Born in 1970 in  Jackson Heights, Queens, New York, to a freshly established Brazilian mother who worked as a housekeeper, he pretty much modeled himself after the older, meaner boys in his neighborhood in the lack of a proper male figure. Flippant and very friendly, he met Charles when they were in their early twenties in the underground fighting scene. Back then Frank was a bit of a scumbag, a con artist of sorts; he readily participated in the rigging of fights in order to make more money than he would by winning fairly – even if he was very talented. It didn’t much matter if he ended up beaten black and blue, so long as he got paid a lump sum for it.

Things went pretty well until he got involved into different types of scams. By then, his gig was found out, and his best friend and partner in the operation, Tomás Ribeiro, was brutally murdered as a result by the Colombian gang that operated the fighting rings at the time. Frank also had to cough up a considerable amount of money in order to not die as well, leaving him practically destitute.

He was 23 at the time, a year younger than Charles. It was the summer of 1993. The experience rattled him and filled him with inmense regret, and he stopped involving himself in crime altogether. Instead he picked up a string of low paying jobs and a drinking habit.

After half a year of aimlessness, he decided to go to college for an Associate’s Degree in Criminal Justice. Surprising everyone that knew him (he’d always been an underachiever), he also managed to graduate. After training under a private investigator for a couple years, he managed to get his PI license.

Turns out he’s a good fighter, but he’s an even better detective. By his 30s, he’s a bit of a local celebrity, having been responsible for solving the highly-publicized disappearance of 8 year old Arlene Kelly. Other than pretty much the highlight of his career, his regular cases are far more banal, but every so often he will get involved in a case that offers more than meets the eye. It helps that, although he’s a “civilian” now, he’s still fairly well connected and knowleadgable about the crime going on in Queens, and New York City as a whole.

He meets Charles again in 1999. He’s tasked by finding new information regarding the disappearance of Patrick Tessier, a financial manager from Manhattan. Tessier has been dead for like 3 years and there’s been like no leads and no signs that the case is getting solved. Police have bigger things in their plate, so Frank is hired by Tessier’s family as a desperate last ditch effort to get some answers about what happened to him.

He and Charles end up meeting – and recognizing each other – in a bar in Hell’s Kitchen a week after he accepts the case. They talk, they drink, they flirt a little, and Frank ends up dropping Tessier’s name just as an aside. “It’s a lost cause,” he declares. “No body, no witnesses, no suspects. I almost feel bad, taking money from a grieving mother. But she insisted, y'know? Wouldn’t take no from an answer. I told her I’d take a look, but I wouldn’t make no guarantees. If police can’t find a missing rich guy, no one can. S’ how I feel about it, anyway.”

The whole time Charles listened attentively – shrugging and smiling wryly at the right times, Frank didn’t notice anything weird about his behavior. Far as he knew, Charles had always been a quiet, serious type. Even when he smiled, even when he laughed, you could tell he wasn’t an expressive guy.

They end up sleeping together that night. Frank continues to investigate, Charles continues with whatever else he’s doing. But they like each other’s company enough to strike up a friendship.

Eventually Frank does find some interesting things he feels the policemen ignored, or probably chose to ignore as to preserve the dead man’s dignity – guy was a closeted homosexual or at the very least bisexual. Not something Tessier’s mother was very proud of, either, given that she was in blunt denial of the fact – even though Patrick Tessier was a New York bachelor in his thirties with a cushy job and time to spare. He doesn’t know if it had anything to do with his disappearance, but it was interesting nonetheless. After hours digging through his apartment (that the Tessiers still owned), he ended up finding his porn stash, and after some fiddling with the safe, getting well acquaintanced with just what types of “interests” he had.

He was an interesting guy, alright.

Anyway, he doesn’t end up getting anywhere. Whole case is a failure, as he pretty much suspected it’d be, and he tries to only charge for only half the time he spent on the case out of guilt, but Margaret Tessier hears none of it. She pays him and tells him to always keep his son in mind.

So he does. The years past and he still thinks about it. Whenever he’s bored he reviews the case file he built on Patrick and tries to come up with something out of thin air. A new insight or new angle that will help him make sense out of this nothingness. After all, by that point he had built something of a reputation solving impossible cases, and this – despite his own wariness – was a reminder he was still fallible.

In the meantime Charles and Frank grow to be close. Charles even helps him with a few cases. They develop an intimate friendship. Frank gets to hold Cael as a child. He becomes a honorary uncle of sorts.

They’re in their forties by the time Charles confesses what he did to Patrick Tessier.

At first, disbelief. Then, as Charles elaborates, the disbelief gives way to anger, for some reason, and then just demanding to know more.

Charles tells Frank about Tessier’s involvement in many a few deaths, including the death of a close friend of his. All of them sex workers. All of them gay. All of them forgettable deaths in the eyes of the city.

Frank eventually comes to understand it. He never had the full picture, both Patrick and Charles made sure of that; Patrick by being extremely secretive about his relationships, Charles by burying whatever evidence had been left of this side of Tessier’s life.

He comes to understand. With time, he comes to shed whatever empathetic image he had built of Tessier over the years. And he comes to shred his case file.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Sorry I was thinking about this the entire time I was in a meeting

The real sticking point was that Ed should've been able to see the red flags from a million miles away.

He was just so tired, was the thing. And this one last job had sounded so perfect, he'd been desperate to believe it. One little thing, infamous Blackbeard posing as a rich ceo to meet with a bunch of corporate bigwigs out here at some rich-fuck ski resort in the mountains, do a little magic to bleed their bank accounts dry and have it all rerouted through a dozen foreign banks right back to Ed Teach's account. And then he could finally retire for good, live the high life...

Hadn't even realized what an easy job he was making it by talking to everyone else in the business about how this was his last gig. Now, no one would even think to question why he was gone.

And still, somehow, he'd still thought he'd gotten off lucky.

He'd been dragged out of his resort bed in the middle of the night. The rich fucks all had a bone to pick with Blackbeard, apparently.

And he still thought he'd gotten off lucky, because, sure, they might've roughed him up a bit. But Ed was used to that. Not the first time he'd been beaten up pretty bad on a job gone south.

But then he realized that they'd just tossed him out of the car in the middle of nowhere, while it was snowing so heavily that he couldn't even make out the road, and he was wearing only the t-shirt and flannel pajama pants he'd gone to bed in. Wasn't even wearing socks, let alone shoes.

He thought he remembered reading once that you could get frostbite in minutes, in temperatures like this.

Ed, with his big stupid beaten-up heart, so full of hope even when there was no reason for it, picked a direction and started walking. He fancied he might see a light reflecting on the snow.

After a few minutes, he had to accept that he was wrong. He wrapped his arms around himself, attempting some semblence of warmth and comfort. He was shaking hard, his breath coming out in laborious pants, his teeth rattling.

His feet hurt. His feet hurt a lot. Might as well have been walking on glass, for how it felt.

He couldn't remember what it was like to be warm, he was so cold.

Ed stumbled, and he fell, and he contemplated not getting up -

There was a light.

Ed could see it, from where he'd landed on the ground, somewhere between the trees and the curve of the mountain. Someone was - who had parked an RV up the trail here, in weather like this?

Ed got up, and he stumbled on.

He would never be sure how he did it. It could only have been a couple minutes, but his thoughts felt so slow and confused and disjointed. He realized, at some point, that he'd stopped shivering, and that felt like a bad sign.

When Ed reached the RV, his knock was weak, and he knew it must've just been his confusion, but it looked like the man who opened the door was made of sunlight.

Ed meant to ask for help. But, in his confused state, he said what he really meant.

"Please don't hurt me," Ed managed to get out, and then he collapsed.

When Ed woke up again, everything was warm.

He should've been terrified, and he still was, but just not as badly as he should've been. He thought about warning his savior that Ed probably didn't deserve the saving.

The sunshine-man said his name was Stede.

"Like a horse," Ed mumbled, his tongue still heavy and his thoughts weird.

"Ha, ha," Stede pretended to laugh. "Super original joke. Totally haven't heard that one before."

"My name's Ed," Ed said, letting his eyes closed. He had been placed by a space heater, and Stede had put a warm knitted hat on his head. "Which rhymes with dead. Which I might be."

"You're not going to die," Stede said, and for some reason, Ed believed him.

Things got a bit scarier as Ed warmed up and started to come back to himself more. He started shivering again, horrible and bone-rattling, and his feet hurt so badly it made him cry.

But Stede never judged him. Just gave him sympathy, like Ed was a person whose feelings and pain mattered.

Stede was out here to escape his old life too, apparently. He was thinking about running away and becoming a park ranger. He promised he'd done a lot of research, and he'd taken first-aid classes, and Ed had managed to just avoid actual frostbite in his feet.

Ed let Stede help him out of his snowy, wet clothes and into soft, warm flannel pajamas. Stede had him sit with his feet in a bowl of warm water, which felt like pins-and-needles before it felt amazing, and then he got to just sit and drink a mug of hot chocolate while Stede gently covered him in band-aids and antibiotic ointment.

Later, Ed would learn Stede apparently started getting really concerned when Ed didn't even flinch as Stede taped two fingers together, because he'd correctly guessed that one was broken. Ed had been pretty badly beaten up, covered in bruises and little cuts, and later Stede would tell him that he'd thought his reactions were weird. The actual pain wasn't really phasing him, all he did was sniffle and mumble "ouch," but he still flinched violently at Stede's gentle touches. He'd still been trying to widen his eyes and glare, an instinctual imitation of the Blackbeard performance that came across more like a scared kitten puffing its tail up. Later, Stede would tell Ed that he'd known then that he was never going to let Ed get hurt ever again.

"Stay," Stede whispered to him.

Ed half-snorted, exhausted and hurting. "Where could I even go?"

Stede just frowned at him.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "yeah, I'll stay."

He was still shivering, so he let himself get bundled up into Stede's bed, and he'd half-thought he might be dreaming, at that point, so he'd begged until Stede got in with him and hugged him.

Ed didn't know it yet, but he'd never feel cold again.

unfortunate fixation today on cold weather whump especially ed getting dumped out of a car in the middle of a snowy field wearing little or no clothing

[tumblepenguin]

Why Weird: The Al Yankovic Story is the best music biopic film

So I watched it last night and I highly recommend it! But while watching the movie I kept thinking "This script is too good. Like this is too clever for it's own good." This thought couldn't escape me. I had to break down why this movie is, quite frankly, the perfect parody and love letter to the music biopic film. Quite possibly the best music biopic film.

In this essay, I will be using the songs that are explicitly referenced in Weird: The Al Yankovic Story as a way to showcase how they reflect or subvert the music biopic film tropes. How these songs are meant show the "real life backstory" of Weird Al Yankovic (and also, the universe this movie takes place in) is quite frankly buckwild. And we start at The Beginning and our first song.

My Bologna—The movie begins with the framing device—a voice over. Then, Weird Al is going to the hospital and being pronounced dead by Lin Manuel Miranda (the Hamilton writer/multi Grammy winner who was receiving the Hollywood Walk of Fame Star the same day as Weird Al and WHO JUST HAPPENED TO BE WITH WEIRD AL AT THE TIME OF THE ANNOUCEMENT OF THEIR WINS. ANYWAY WE WILL GET BACK TO THIS PLOT POINT LATER).

More voiceover. We see the hero's journey start by showing how Weird Al was a musically gifted child, but his family discouraged him. His Mom is the traditional 50's wife while Dad is a Overworked Blue Collar Man who works at factory (BUT THE ENTIRE MOVIE, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HE MAKES, SIMILAR TO HOW IN A BIOPIC MOVIE, THE "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME DAD" DAD HAS "A TOUGH JOB THAT PUT BREAD ON THE TABLE, BUT MY DAMN SON DOESN'T APPRECIATE IT" FACTORY JOB). It is here we also establish the future Mentor+Agent character, but I'm getting ahead of myself. After receiving "The One True Calling"—(ie, the traveling salesman with the accordion, others gaining the appreciation for his talent at a high school polka party, the reveal to the "You Don't Understand Me" Dad how his son played the accordion in secret (complete with doing so "in the closet" because "My mom supports my artistic achievements, but still has to be a good housewife and follow her husband's rules, but to hell with the rules" idea), only for the "You Don't Understand Me" Dad to crush his spirits (ie throw him out of the house for his talent and we get the important line of "I will become Perhaps Not Technically the Best at But Arguably the Most Famous Accordion Player")—does our hero start the journey. He has a couple of tough gigs/ getting rejected while he's away from home. The future band mates are the new friends he makes away from home (guys that, as the movie points out, have shown NO MUSICAL TALENT OR INTEREST EARLIER IN THE FILM UNTIL THE BIG "GETS DISCOVERED BY A MENTOR+AGENT" MOMENT. GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF). After encouraging our hero to keep going, the future bandmates find themselves at the BIG MOMENT. The moment when our hero is tested for first time with the 1st song. The one that all audiences will know. A softball in terms of the types of references yet to come. In this case, Weird Al gets the inspiration for My Bologna after making his future bandmates a boloney sandwich.

I Love Rocky Road—The "Gets Discovered By a Mentor+Agent" moment of the music biopic. So after the real life recording of My Bologna in the bathroom (with some "dramatic license"), our hero sends his song to Captain Buffoon, a radio DJ (great name btw). The song is played on the radio and to our hero, things are looking up for him! Wrong! The record execs with TERRIBLE WIGS™ aren't buying it! They don't understand how this will get them cash money.

(Sidebar: one of the record executives is Weird Al himself in a Terrible Wig ™. And the other executive (Will Forte) is just laying into our hero. Just laying it on with saying "You're so dumb! You'll never amount to anything. Your breath kinda sticks too!" kinda jokes. And The Real Weird Al is like "hey man, that seems a little harsh." But Will Forte keeps going, making the childish insults worse. And The Real Weird Al has to say "that's kinda harsh, you don't need to go into him like that" about Fictional Weird Al. Anyway, great sequence folks.)

But our hero is not discouraged. Cause his tape to Captain Buffoon did get him a gig at a TOUGH BIKER BAR™/the "Tough crowd to win over" moment (with one bar patron being Patton Oswald, who was originally Dr Demento in the Funny or Die sketch that kicked this whole idea off. The bar owner is Dot-Marie Jones, which made me personally happy). And so he goes up alone, starts singing. But it doesn't seem to be working! The bikers/crowd aren't buying it either! See, they know what it means to be real! But low! Our hero, being discouraged, suddenly shows that "he can do it guys"! Not only that, but his friends are joining him too! The band is forming! The crowd is loving it! What once was slurs and heckling being thrown at our hero is now rapturous applause! Our hero's trial is over. BUT, a dark entity was watching from the bar. In a funny looking getup in the shadows.

Another One Rides the Bus—The Dark Bargain begins. Our dark bargain mentor figure is Rainn Wilson, playing Dr Demento (there are 2. COUNT EM 2 JOKES ABOUT DEMENTORS IN THIS SCENE ALONE. WITH LONG PAUSES FOR AUDIENCES TO REALIZE HE REFERENCING HARRY POTTER WHILE HARRY POTTER (Daniel Radcliffe) IS ON SCREEN). The success of the song means our hero gets his first taste of FAME and HIS STAGE NAME. He goes to a party with the ultimate blunt rotation including:

• Devo

• Elton John

• PeeWee Herman

• Tiny Tim

• Elvira, Mistress of the Dark

• Alice Cooper with a fake snake

• The comedian Gallagher played by Paul F Tompkins

• Kate Pierson from the B-52s

• Grace Jones

• Divine

• Salvador Dali

• Frank Zappa

• Conan O'Brien as Andy Warhol

(Sidebar: There is also a man with a guitar talking to "Elton" and another shot of a man with white blonde hair and suit that I didn't recognize. If someone could help me identify who these are supposed to be, that would be great!)

And our hero gets tested again by Jack Black as Wolfman Jack and John Deacon (bass player of Queen, which is funny because MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW THAT INFO, SO WE'RE MAKING JOKES ABOUT HOW RECOGNIZABLE SOMEONE IS. THE IDEA COMES UP AGAIN LATER IN THE MOVIE). This group of people are like the bikers—they need to see if he's the Real Thing AGAIN. Which gives us another "in universe" biopic song. And the guests are impressed! And soon, our boy is getting interviewed by Oprah (with Quinta Brunson as Oprah, which is incredible). The interview starts showing that he is getting money, the house he always wanted, The Dream ™. He even shows his chain of platinum records that he wears at all times (IT SAVES HIM LATER, TRUST ME). All he needs now is THE GIRL. Enter Evan Rachel Wood as Madonna. She sees the interview with Oprah and "Sees What She Likes

(Sidebar: in the Oprah broadcast we find out Pablo Escobar—yes, the international drug cartel leader—is one of the biggest Weird Al fans. THIS WILL BE IMPORTANT LATER).

Cut to a hotel room. Our hero makes THE PHONE CALL BACK HOME™ to check in with the family. His mom picks up (IT'S ALWAYS THE MOM IN MOVIES. ALWAYS), and she says that she misses her little boy and Dad isn't home cause he's working the factory. The trope gets subverted because she says how disappointed she is with our hero, instead of the typical "Moms always support their kids and their kids' dreams" in most movies. This brings the hero DOWN. He finds his mentor (for some reason being in a bathtub connected to the bedroom where the The Phone Call From Home™ happens). And he gets drugged on LSD! So now we have a Dream Sequence. Which is amazing! At the end, he emerges Reborn! He has also created THE GREATEST THING EVER. His "Sgt. Pepper's" (including DRUG INFLUENCE ™) if you will.

Eat It—This time, "The record executives can do nothing but be in awe of the genius they just listened to". But our hero is tired of being a ONE TRICK PONY. He wants to make his own music. This song isn't a parody. And in the universe of the movie, Michael Jackson is the greatest Parody writer of all time. Because "Beat It" in this universe is a cover song (maybe so are all popular songs ever—hard to say). Now the little man and his accordion are the ones who dominate the charts. They shape music history forever. Not everyone he actually covers in real life.

(Sidebar: This is the most batshit thought I had while watching this movie. BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE.)

This song is The Biggest Song in the World. And our hero is getting even more FAME. But with that comes Another Dark Bargain. At this point in a music biopic, our hero will have/or has encountered his supposed downfall. In music biopics, it's usually the mentor+agent, corrupted by money/fame. Sometimes it's the girlfriend who's a HUGE SLUT/does a lot of drugs/encourages the use of drugs/just being a BAD INFLUENCE. In this case, the girlfriend is Madonna (someone that Conservatives think is all the things depicted in the movie already. Yes, probably even being the queen of a drug cartel after killing Pablo Escobar and then takes out Weird Al via assassination at the Not Grammy Grammys BUT I AM JUMPING AHEAD OF MYSELF IN THIS STORY). So she stops on by The Mansion™ and she and Weird Al are Opposites Attract ™. They start making out (but can't show sex scenes in a PG-13 film). And the making out is so fucking funny. But now, "The Girl is in his life, and he's starting to get distracted from his job!" plot line has entered the chat. And Dr Demento is not having it. Instead of focusing on some exciting opportunities (including playing for Pablo "Previously Stated as One of Weird Al's Biggest Fans" Escobar for his 40th birthday party. Also there's a joke about Led Zeppelin versus Howie Mandel and having Weird Al replace Roger Moore as James Bond. And he throws a fit about only doing original work. Which is hilarious since we live in a "Who's the next James Bond after Daniel Craig" era), our hero just wants to be with his BAD INFLUENCE.

While at dinner with Madonna, there is a phone call.

(Sidebar: Weird Al states "This has been the happiest six hours of my life". How I'm choosing to believe that from the time Madonna and Weird Al made out, do the Next Morning Scene™ to the time of this dinner—including the previously established "Getting Distracted" scene—all took place in six hours. Insane.)

It's from one of the record executives (played by The Real Weird Al). It's about Michael Jackson "parodying" Eat It. And our hero IS NOT HAVING IT ™. The first blow that will lead to DOWNFALL. The Phone is getting smashed. Our hero will now be linked to Michael Jackson forever because of this parody! He returns to the table and cannot eat (it. GET IT? Also the waiter is Josh Groban). Now Madonna is giving him alcohol. The Slow Decent to the Bottom has begun! Meanwhile, the band is pissed! We haven't seen them in several minutes, but the BAND IS FIGHTING is about to commence. They say Weird Al has lost touch. He threats to replace everyone with machines (even the GUY WE DON'T REMEMBER IS IN THE BAND, LIKE JASON DEACON, BASS PLAYER FOR QUEEN. See, it all comes back around). "You've changed man," is said. Dr Demento arrives to try and SALVAGE THE SITUATION ™. But "Anything you want to say, you can say in front of my BAD INFLUENCE." And the mentor figure thinks The Girl=Bad Influence. "She's only using you for her own gains" line is used. But our hero is blinded by the love/BAD INFLUENCE to see the truth. This is also where the hinting mention of Like a Surgeon happens (BUT WE'RE NOT THERE YET. THE PAYOFF HASN'T HAPPENED YET). "You're not my real dad!" (even though this entire time, Weird Al wasn't looking for a Father Figure™). The mentor+agent figure is now dismissed. Madonna runs after him, telling him not to Drive While Drunk. But hands over the car keys away cause she a BAD INFLUENCE. While Driving To Clear His Head ™, our hero flips through the radio. It's playing the top radio hits (HIS SONGS) and he turns off the radio is disgust. Suddenly we have a car crash.

Like a Surgeon—We are now back in the hospital. All of the previously stated information is the first HOUR AND FOUR MINUTES OF THIS MOVIE. TO SET UP THE REASON LIKE A SURGEON EXISTS AS A SONG. THIS IS THE GIVEN BACKSTORY FOR THIS SONG.

But now, it's The Second Biggest Thing of All Time. And we get choreography that's the Vogue choreography. And Madonna is doing it backstage. So she's inspired by Weird Al, not ballroom dance culture, to dance like that in Vogue. Fucking wild. Also the backup dancers are wearing cone bras (a thing Madonna made famous with Like a Virgin). We now get The Doors movie parody with the ROCK BOTTOM MOMENT. Which includes flashing the accordion to the audience (instead of a dick). And now, our boy is CANCELLED and has to LAY LOW, which mean going to a diner with his very famous girlfriend. Madonna says what their Hollywood couple/ship name should be. But they couldn't lay low, because Madonna got kidnaped by Pablo Escobar. That's right, you forgot about Pablo Escobar, didn't you? But I mentioned him previously. And now, he's now the main plotline. All for Weird Al not noticing him senpai.

And now our movie turns into an action movie. With an amazing diner fight+punchline at the end of the scene. Also a "Predator style jungle knockout to sneak onto the enemy's basecamp" scene. And Madonna is being held hostage during Pablo's 40th birthday party, including a mariachi band playing. But Weird Al shows up and a firefight ensues. He gains the upper hand (cause everyone is a terrible shot+Tarantino style blood squibs go off. It's awesome).

THEN PABLO ESCOBAR SHOOTS WEIRD AL DEAD.

BUT PSYCH! CAUSE CHAIN OF PLATINUM RECORDS SAVED HIS ASS. AN HOUR AND SEVENTEEN MINUTES INTO THE MOVIE WE BRING THE CHECKHOV'S RECORD BACK. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

And Weird Al kills Pablo Escobar by throwing a record into his head. And Madonna, being the #girlboss that she is, decides she wants to becoming the head of an international drug cartel, and wants Weird Al to help her. But he decides to go against her. Her BAD INFLUENCE no longer has a hold on his life. AND THE VOICE OVER RETURNS. Cause now "the hero has to return home before his big comeback after the Fall from Grace" needs to happen, because of course that's what you do in a music biopic. So he returns home and starts working at the factory pushing levers and buttons that we, the audience and he, Weird Al, doesn't have a clue what they do (other than maim fellow factory workers, BUT WHATEVER). The "You Don't Understand Me" Dad finds him in the Depths Of Despair. And our hero has his emotional outburst. But our Dad has turned a new leaf. In fact, he like parody songs! He even sings the oldest one we know ("Jingle Bells, Batman Smells"). Also the mom is wearing the EAT IT fat suit.

(Sidebar: I feel mixed on this fat suit, but I won't get into it right now.)

And with this shared parody ancestry, the Dad thinks it's finally time to tell Weird Al why he was against him playing the accordion in the first place.

Amish Paradise—Dad's Tragic Backstory/Footloose Reason Why Society Doesn't Allow Their Kids to Do INSERT BLANK ACTIVITY HERE. Everything that you have read up until this point, an HOUR AND TWENTY FIVE MINUTES OF THE MOVIE, has been leading to this backstory for this song's inclusion in the movie. You're welcome. This Tragic Backstory is also animated, so thanks! Also because this is a rap/motivationally sounding song (I guess???), we see that our hero has Returned to Fight Another Day! This time with a new sound!

(Sidebar: does anyone else wonder if Coolio knew about this cameo before he died? Just asking cause Madonna apparently wasn't consulted about the role Evan Rachel Wood plays in this film according to interviews I watched after the fact).

This song is at the Not Grammy Grammys (he gets the "Perhaps Not Technically the Best at But Arguably the Most Famous Accordion Player" award over Prince. We'll need to move on from there). After being present the award by Diana Ross and Hulk Hogan, our guy wins and goes onstage to accept. Meanwhile, an assassin is seating in the front row. But wait, I thought Pablo Escobar is dead? Who is in charge of this assassin? Why, it's our girl Madonna. BUT I'M GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF.

The acceptance speech become a "Suck It Losers!" kinda speech. And here is where the A Star is Born reference with Weird Al pissing himself onstage happens. And Weird Al is assassinated. By a Madonna who is no longer in the audience, dressed in what I think is her American Life outfit.

(Sidebar: IS CYNDI LAUPUR NEXT TO DR DEMENTO IN THE AUDIENCE? CAUSE THAT'S NOT EVAN RACHEL WOOD AND WE NEEDED A FAKEOUT OF MADONNA SUPPOSEDLY SITTING IN THE AUDIENCE IN ORDER FOR HER DO THE ASSASSINATION. ANYWAY!)

And we get "What happened after the artist died/peaked" before credits rolls. Then credits with fake photos are mixed with real photos from childhood (I think those are real. If not, great touch). AND WE GET A MID CREDITS SCENE. Madonna brings flowers to Weird Al's grave (that says ATE IT 1985), but as she's leaving a zombie hand of Weird Al grabs her to drag her to hell like the end of Carrie/other horror movies. So Weird Al has been dead this entire time, and we have only been listening to a Zombie Weird Al since 1985!

Now You Know—the "Yep, this 100% happened guys. Totally!" song. Also has some great mentions about how long/repetitive the song is, who worked on the film, explicitly showing the parody songs instead of the originals used in the end credits, mentioning the "studio musician backing vocals" (who sound amazing by the way), and how the song can technically be nominated for an Oscar.

And this is why this movie is the great parody of all time.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

(This is the long, completed version of Jess dreaming about Lenny after he’s passed away)

He’s been reading too hard again.

Jess Mariano has a weird habit, where if he reads too hard, too much, it all starts showing up in his dreams, and Lenny’s memoir is no exception.

He dreams of a dim, smoky café, where a woman in a fancy black dress and pearls is making the audience laugh. 

“She’s so good,” the man next to him says reverently, and when he looks, he finds a tall man, dark hair and a hand in front of his mouth, watching the woman intently. 

“Lenny?” Jess marvels. 

He smirks. “Hey, kid.” 

“You-” 

“Ssshh. Just listen.” 

And Jess does, and it takes him all of a second to realize that that’s Midge onstage, eating the audience alive. And Lenny is right. She is so, so good.

“...Anyhow, my point is, with the ring came the sex. Exclusive sex. Right? Something to count on. Something you know is yours. Like a social security number or a family history of insanity.” 

Jess laughs quietly and Lenny smiles. 

“Sometimes I look back on this night,” he tells Jess. “And I wonder why I waited so long.” 

“Weren’t you still married to Honey when this happened?” Jess asks. 

Lenny nods. “I was. But not for very much longer. I could have made a move sooner. I just- I didn’t know if she- hold on, this is my cue.” 

Midge wraps her set to thunderous applause, and then rushes off the stage, launching herself into Lenny’s arms, and he hugs her tightly. 

“How could you not have known that she wanted you?” Jess asks, a little annoyed. 

Lenny smirks from over Midge’s shoulder. “Don’t bother the dead, kid.” 

Jess wakes up with a jolt after that, looking around Luke’s old apartment above the diner and rolls his eyes.

“Fuck.” 

***** 

Another night. Another dream. A cramped little jazz club, and this time, he’s onstage with Lenny as Lenny does his set.

Except he’s not actually doing his set, he’s talking to Jess. 

“I clocked her in the audience right when she took a seat,” Lenny tells him. “The headband and the cute little black pants and the coat. After Trent and the three - the guys behind me - hey guys - play their first set, I’m gonna invite her out back with us to get high, and then she’s going to stand right here where I’m standing, and roast the fuck out of me for a years-old joke she saw me tell at a strip club once.” 

Jess watches Lenny carefully, this youthful version he’s only seen in photos and the occasional documentary. He’s so used to the older version: a little stooped and white-haired with hard-earned wrinkles. It’s deeply strange to see him at nearly thirty-five. 

“Love at first roast?” Jess offers, amused.

Lenny grins and nods sheepishly. “It’s not entirely inaccurate.” 

Jess wakes with less of a jolt then and sighs. It feels like Lenny is trying to tell him something, but that’s fucking ridiculous. 

He takes the coldest shower he can stand and starts his day. 

***** 

Another night.

Another dream. 

A dive bar on a rainy night. 

Lenny sits between Jess and Midge, and he’s looking truly rundown. 

“Newly divorced, on the run from a warrant for my arrest in Chicago,” Lenny shrugs. “Missing my daughter, and a little homeless…aimless…and there she is. Until the day I died I never figured out why she kept saving me.” 

“She loves you, Lenny,” Jess tells him. “It’s that simple.” 

Lenny takes the drink in front of Jess and downs it, clearly feeling the burn of it. “That was still not my drink.” 

Jess chuckles softly. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Midge says firmly. 

Lenny looks at Midge and shakes his head. “She has this habit, you know. She knows just what to say when my whole heart is in tatters. She’s gonna do it again in another moment.” 

Jess looks confused. These dreams never have full conversations, it seems. 

“I’m going to tell her about my Steve Allen gig, and she’s going to catch that I am fucking nervous,” Lenny explains. “She’s going to tell me about accompanying her very young son- who will, in a handful of years - become my stepson - on his first playdate, and how she stayed outside the whole time, even though it rained.” 

“Want me to stand outside your playdate?” Midge asks, grinning at Lenny understandingly.

“And there it is,” Lenny tells him. “In that one sentence. That’s when there was no turning back.” He gets to his feet, digging out some money to pay for the drink he stole, and keeps chatting with Jess. “I’m going to tell her to bring her umbrella to my playdate, and leave like I’m cool or something. But in reality…fuck, I don’t know. Sometimes it was tough not to beg her to come home with me - not that I had a home at this point.” 

Jess follows, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Umbrella.” He remembers Lenny’s funeral. Being asked to bring one. Everyone being asked to bring one. Midge had stepped out of the car at the cemetery for the burial to a sea of umbrellas, lifted her own very pink one, and led the way. 

And this is why.

Jess wakes up and sighs, staring at the ceiling. What are the point of these stupid fucking dreams? Is he really just reading too much, too hard on Lenny’s memoir? Is this a belated grieving thing? 

Jesus. 

***** 

“This is not a proud moment for me,” Lenny tells Jess as they stand out on the sidewalk in front of Midge’s apartment building on the Upper West Side. 

The sun is shining, Lenny has lost a shoe, Midge is bewildered, and the whole thing looks like I mess. 

“I got high last night,” Lenny explains. “And then drank a lot of whiskey. A lot. Of whiskey. And I blacked out on 8th Street. And luckily - or unluckily, I thought at the time - Midge was passing by. She spotted me. Brought me here.” He turns to the building. “To sleep it off safely.” 

“Were you together?” 

“No,” Lenny confesses. “We’ve been…dancing. Around this thing of ours, but no. And I was humiliated. And hungover and just-” He sighs, looking ashamed. “I took my shame out on her. I was horrible to her.” 

“Why?” 

“What was the impetus every time you were an asshole to Rory?” Lenny asks as he tries to offer Midge money, and Jess’s eyes go wide with panic at the gesture. 

“Lenny - fucking - no!” 

“I’m sorry, what do you think happened last night?” 

“Answer the question,” Lenny says. 

“I was fucked up and angry at myself and - ashamed of myself,” Jess tells him as he climbs into the cab with Lenny while Midge storms back into the building. 

“Yeah,” Lenny drawls. “My poor Miriam. The things I put her through. This bullshit, and the drugs…the convictions and appeals…she should have left me so many times. She had every right to, and she couldn’t do it.” 

“That whole love thing again,” Jess quips. 

“Don’t joke,” Lenny tells him as he lights a cigarette. “Midge has seen shit that would have you running scared.” 

Jess takes a breath. “Lenny, why do you keep popping up like this?” 

Lenny shrugs. “Seemed like there was more to talk about with you. More to explain. You and I, we always had nice conversations. Maybe you’re not ready for them to end yet.” 

He wakes up and shakes his head. “Fuck.” 

***** 

He stops Jess from walking into that very blue hotel room. 

“Not on your fucking life, kid,” Lenny tells him, and shuts the door. 

Jess wakes up laughing, but once he goes back to sleep, he finds himself dreaming of a bathroom and a bag. 

And Lenny again. 

“The thing you don’t know about me,” he says, standing there in nothing but a pair of undershorts, looking younger than Jess can ever remember even in pictures, the scars on the insides of his arms on display. “Is that I have always been a god-damn monster. And the idea that Midge didn’t think so is the only thing that kept me from dying young.” 

Jess wakes up again, and finds himself in his own bathroom with his cell phone. 

“Hello?” Rory asks sleepily. 

“I-” 

“Jess?” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

He hangs up. 

***** 

The problem with these dreams - the big problem - is that none of these instances are detailed in the book. Mentions are made of clubs and cafes. Of Blue rooms. But Lenny purposefully left out details that Jess has been dreaming about.

And he’s not sure what to do with that information, because either those things really happened and Jess is going bonkers, or he’s just dreaming weirdly specific stuff. 

And he knows he should ask Midge about it, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Midge is Midge and Midge will always tell him that she’s okay. That it doesn’t hurt too much. That Lenny lived a long, full life, and it was his time. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s now living out the last years of her life without him, and that has to hurt. 

So in the morning when she stops in for breakfast, as she so often does, he just pours her coffee and asks her how her day is so far. 

But he finds himself looking at Midge in a new light. Not as the elderly woman who has always, somehow shown him kindness and tried to be family to him when he had very little, but he sees, now, the young, funny, fierce woman Lenny had fallen in love with.

“Have you ever thought about writing another book?” Jess asks out of the blue.

Midge looks surprised. “Not really.” 

“I mean, you don’t talk much about the early days in the one you wrote,” Jess points out. “Lenny doesn’t give a whole lot of details, but he talks about meeting you in the memoir. You kind of gloss over a lot of that stuff.” 

She shrugs, grinning. “Some things are just for me.” 

Jess nods, and keeps working, only for Rory to pop over to the counter. 

"Hey."

He nods to her. "Hey."

Rory purses her lips. "You called me last night and then hung up."

"Yeah," Jess confirms sheepishly. "I had a weird dream and I … I guess I wigged out a little.: 

She frowns. "Wanna talk about it?" 

"No. But thanks."

*****

"You know when you really let someone down?" Lenny asks from a hospital bed. 

Another dream. 

Lenny looks young and too thin and too pale. 

And Jess knows this is the overdose. 

Jess nods. "Yeah."

Lenny sighs and gazes past him, at the woman dozing in a chair in the corner. "Yeah."

Jess takes a breath and looks Lenny in the eyes. “Why?” 

The other man can only shrug and shake his head. “I don’t have answers. If I did, I don’t think I’d have wound up in this hospital bed.” 

“It just feels like you’ve been trying to tell me something,” Jess presses. “All these dreams, night after night.” 

Lenny just grins.

And Jess wakes up. 

***** 

“Do you dream about your grandfather?” Jess asks as he and Rory wander around the bookstore the next day. “Richard. Does he pop up a lot?” 

Rory frowns at him curiously. “Sometimes. But not in a significant way. Like, I’ll turn a corner, and he’ll be sitting there, reading a newspaper, and he’ll smile, or…or wave. But nothing intense or detailed.” 

Jess nods slowly as he tosses another book onto his stack of “to buy”’s. 

“Are you dreaming about Lenny?” Rory asks carefully. 

Jess blinks. “It’s just- weird. It’s weird. You know?” 

“He was family to you,” Rory points out gently. “And you miss him.” 

Jess just nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

“If you wanted to talk about it,” Rory offers gently. 

“Maybe,” he allows. “Maybe not now, but…maybe.” 

She shrugs and grins at him. “Whenever.” 

“Yeah.” 

***** 

“People really hated Midge after we got together,” Lenny explains as he lays back on a couch with Midge snuggled in against his chest as they read a newspaper together. “They thought that she was the reason I got clean, and they thought it made my comedy weaker. Less funny. Except all the bits people claimed were from my early days were from my post-drugs, with-Midge days…getting clean made me sharper, made the humor more biting. Angrier in a lot of ways. Got me in more trouble in some ways. People didn’t want to believe it.” 

“Another reason she should have left you?” Jess offers. 

“Eh. She’s not gonna,” Lenny shrugs, kissing the top of Midge’s head tenderly. “I got lucky.” 

“I’m sick of these dreams,” Jess snaps as he paces around the living room. 

“Then stop having them.” 

“How?!” 

Lenny shrugs again.

Jess wakes up and snarls, hopping out of bed and calling Rory.

*****  

“I keep having these dreams,” he admits, agitated as he paces the gazebo. The sun isn’t up. He woke Rory up for this, and he feels bad, but- “Every night this week, just - dream after dream, always Lenny, always something I’m pretty sure happened but I shouldn’t know that it happened. Always - talking about - him and Midge.” 

“Jess-” 

“I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me! Should this stuff be in the book? Am I supposed to learn some kind of after-school-special bullshit life lesson from all of this?” 

“Maybe you just miss him,” Rory says firmly from her seat on the bench, and it stops him in his tracks. 

He says nothing, staring at her face. 

“Lenny and Midge were a really stabilizing force in your life,” Rory offers. “They never broke up. They never got divorced, they never cheated on each other or actively hated each other. They were in love, and they love you like you're one of their own grandkids. And now half of that force is gone, and your brain is trying to make sense of that reality.” 

Jess swallows and looks down.  

“Do you need a hug?” Rory asks, getting to her feet. “I promise no funny stuff.” 

He shrugs and tries to joke. “I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to funny stuff.” 

Rory laughs softly and hugs him around the neck. “Shut up.” 

***** 

Jess stands in the corner behind Midge's chair, watching them stare at each other.

"This place doesn't feel a little...I don't know. Weird and racist to you?" he asks.

Lenny shrugs. "It was the sixties. We were not woke."

Jess chuckles softly and wanders around a little, looking at the other patrons as they dance and drink.

"So this was your big plan to get her to fall for you?" he asks.

"Part of a larger scheme," Lenny admits. "Before this, we did a TV appearance on Miami After Dark with Bry Adler."

"The Hugh Hefner Wannabe?" Jess scoffs.

"Eh, I had already done the Playboy Penthouse thing," Lenny shrugs. "So we just ate dinner. We're enjoying drinks and each other's company. Nice and atmospheric."

"And weird and racist," Jess adds.

"Thanks for that."

"I'm just saying."

Lenny sighs heavily. "I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted this night to be...I don't know. I think in the back of my head, I figured if I get one shot at this, I wanted to make it count. She's going to turn me down at the end of the night, by the way. We'll get back to my place, and she'll look at me and I'll look at her, and she'll hail a cab to get back to her hotel."

Jess frowns. "Why?"

Lenny takes a drag off his cigarette before putting it out and getting to his feet, offering Midge a hand. "Because stepping into that room would change what we are to each other. And she wasn't ready for it yet."

"You dance?"

Jess watches as Midge takes his hand and he gently leads her onto the dance floor.

He watches them, and thinks back on dancing with Rory at Luke and Lorelai's wedding. How comfortable that had been.

And suddenly, for the first time in any of these dreams, Lenny isn't talking to him.

"What's the matter? I'm not that bad."

Midge gazes at him. "I just can't think of anything funny to say."

Lenny agrees. "Me either. It's kind of nice, isn't it?"

Jess sits back, still watching as Midge rests her head on Lenny's shoulder, and he settles her hand onto his neck, holding her arm gently. And just like that, they go from Midge and Lenny...to MidgeandLenny. The MidgeandLenny that Jess has known since he was a dumb kid, with all of the tenderness and strength they always had with each other. For each other. Because of each other.

When he wakes up, he stares at the ceiling, 

***** 

He winds up coming clean to Liz one night on her front porch, over a couple of beers. 

Liz shrugs. “You just miss him, Jess.”

“You really think that’s it?” Jess asks. 

She nods. “I really do. He helped you a lot. He was invested in your wellbeing. In your future. And he bribed you with all those stories to get you to go to class. Luke told me about that. It’s hard to lose that kind of support.” 

“So…what do I do?” Jess asks. “How do I make these dreams stop?” 

“I don’t know that you can,” Liz admits. “It sounds like he’s sticking around, because he feels like you still need his help. So maybe…let him know that you’re gonna be okay. That he did a good enough job and that you can manage without him. Because he helped teach you how to.”

“That sounds so stupid,” Jess tells her.

 She laughs. “I know it does. But you know, I dreamt about my dad for a whole year after he passed away. And we would just have these fights. About nothing. About you. About Jimmy, and Luke and my mother and everything in my life. I decided to send you here in part because I started having those dreams again when you were in high school.” 

“That also sounds stupid.” 

“Drink your beer.” 

***** 

He dreams of an open field in the middle of nowhere, and Lenny is next to him. Younger than Jess has ever seen him, in documentaries, dreams or otherwise. 

Painfully young. Maybe twenty.  

“I worked here before the war,” Lenny explains. “This farm. I really liked it, but when I came back from the navy nobody really…” he shrugs. “They didn’t really want me here anymore. No one cared that I had come back.”

Jess stays quiet, watching the contemplative look on Lenny’s face. 

“And that feeling…that absence of belonging didn’t really go away until I found Midge,” Lenny says quietly. “But I always liked it here. I always meant to take Midge to see it, but I guess things were too busy. Family and work and whatnot.” 

“You should stay,” Jess tells him. “Hang out here for a while. See if it still fits.” 

Lenny lifts an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m okay,” Jess assures him. “I am.” 

Lenny still says nothing. 

“I’m okay, because you and Midge didn’t give up on me like everyone else had,” Jess admits. “My mom. The town. Even Luke almost gave up a couple of times, before I pulled it together. Lorelai from the second we met.”

Lenny huffs out a laugh. “You made quite the impression on her.” 

Jess smirks. “But you and Midge, you always had my back. And I’m grateful. And I’m okay.” 

Lenny nods, looking him over and patting his shoulder. “Okay, kid. If you’ve got it from here, then you’ve got it from here.” 

“I got it from here,” Jess confirms, looking back out over the landscape. 

“Hey,” Lenny says. “Don’t leave the Rory thing too long. She’ss gonna find somebody else if you do.” 

Jess chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

When he wakes up, he wakes up crying.

***** 

Luke and Lorelai come back to town the next day, and Jess makes sure the diner is running smoothly, and everything is just the way Luke left it. They work behind the counter together, while Lorelai and Rory chat at one of the tables, and Midge joins them when she walks in, giving Lorelai a welcome home kiss, and patting Rory’s hand as they talk. 

“You okay?” Luke asks, lifting an eyebrow at him. “You seem kinda quiet today, even for you.” 

Jess nods “I’m good. Actually, you mind if I take a break?” 

Luke shrugs. “Go ahead.” 

He grabs his jacket and heads for the door. He catches Rory’s eye and nods, and she grins, promising her mother she’ll return shortly before following him.

“Hey,” she says, catching up with him as he heads for the gazebo. “Everything okay?” 

Jess nods. “Everything’s okay. I think the dreams are done.” 

Rory gives him a sympathetic look. “That’s good. That means you’re moving on a little more.” 

He takes a breath. “I just wanna say thank you for letting me lose my shit on you a little.” 

She laughs softly. “It’s really okay. Maybe I’ll turn that into a book one day, too.” 

“Some poor asshole getting haunted by the ghost of Lenny Bruce,” Jess jokes. “There are a lot of hipsters who would eat that up.” 

“Well maybe you should write it,” Rory suggests. 

He shrugs. “Seems too personal.” He takes a breath. “Maybe I can buy you dinner tomorrow night as a thank you for putting up with my insanity?” 

Rory smiles. “I’d like that. Like old times.” 

“I was hoping literally,” he admits. “Like a date.” 

Her smile falls a little, and she looks surprised. “Wow. A date? Like a…a date-date?” 

Jess shrugs. “I’m in a good place, you’re in a good place…I thought maybe…why the fuck not?” 

Rory smiles again, obviously thinking that over. “Why the fuck not. Okay. It’s a date-date.” 

He nods. “Good.” 

Jess nudges her shoulder with his on his way past her, back to the diner, but she reaches out for his coat and stops him, pulling him back, and into a brief kiss.

He blinks at her when it ends. “What was that for?” 

Rory just smiles and gives him a gentle shove before heading back to the diner. 

Jess shakes his head and follows.

END