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punk-in-docs · 2 years

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🎃Trick? or Treat?🎃

Summary: Eddie’s friends don’t actually believe you’re really dating him, and they require some proof. Cause no way has the freak scored a girl like you- 3k- a dirty funky little drabble really…

Reader is related to my Eddie Series. Come take a look-

“There is no way. There’s just no way.” Dustin piped up. Dismissing it with a shake of his curly head.

“Agreed.” Mike pitched in, solidly. “I don’t buy it.”

They’re talking to each other like you aren’t even there.

“It’s gotta be a set up.” Comes Gareth’s opinion. Nodding as he points his fork at Mike. A wedge of yellow fruit speared on the end.

“A bet right?” Says Jeff. Crossing his arms and eyeing you up, like he’s waiting for the punchline.

You were currently sat at the Hellfire table, so dubbed the freaks’ spot by the jocks, in the canteen.

It was Fall. Inside there were paper streamers looped about the walls in twisting orange and black. Cardboard cut-out Jack-o-lanterns and skulls sneer from the walls.

Outside was a mucky amalgamation of Indiana Fall. Bone chilling rain and sticky brown-gold leaves, that had come off the trees days earlier. The huge windows in here misty muggy and smeared condensation with rain knifing down the glass the other side. The sky is dark grey, all bruised, and heaving with chowder thick clouds.

Droopy paper halloween decorations are tacked everywhere in this space that smells like stale pepperoni pizza. Hand made felt tip posters are tacked up on every surface for the ‘Fright Night’ party happening in the gym.

Now you were looking down the table at five very concerned faces. All of whom were waiting for you to spill the truth.

Quite frankly, they’re all looking at you like you’re Judas Iscariot at a disciples reunion.

Your eyes darted around from person to person.

They don’t believe you exist. They can’t believe it.

They cannot buy that you’re dating the curly haired scarecrow that is their metal headed Hellfire Leader. Your Eddie.

Who at this moment had dashed out in the rain to the parking lot with his black hoodie yanked over his wild hair, cause he left his lighter in his van.

And cause you’d left your chapstick in there in the glove compartment. And well, he did offer to retrieve it for you. Such a Prince.

“What part of are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask as you reach in your bag for your book, and your brown paper bag of home made lunch. Chicken salad sandwich and a bag of chips. Extra large portions. You knew who would be stealing half your lunch.

Your chunky blue sweater slides off one shoulder. Revealing a lilac bra strap and a definite indication of a grape-purple hickie nestled in the crook your neck. The mystery continues.

“It’s gotta be fake. You’re like, dating a jock or something, aren’t you?” Jeff narrows his eyes at you like you’re a suspect.

Your gaze is packed in snow. Something razor cold skimmed off the Arctic Ocean.

“I take offence at that, dweeb.” You lob your eraser at his head.

That move is eerily similar to… someone else.

You hold your hand out, palm up to him, with a thundering frown. He throws your pink eraser back.

“But you’re-“ Mike starts. Then his tongue stunts itself.

You pause. Brows shooting up your head.

“I’m what, Wheeler?” Your tone invites him to think very carefully about his next words.

“You’re a girl.” He splutters.

“Hey. Only on the outside, kid.” You wink and click your tongue at him. Grinning. Widening your eyes. You learnt that from someone else too. The Kubrick stare.

“No- you’re, like. You’re a girl, girl. Like, you’re popular and. Normal? You get good grades. You’re friends with Jonny Lopez’ girlfriend. You’re going to like, a big league college.”

“I wouldn’t say popular. And we’re not entirely like friends. She just sort of bitches at me, and I occasionally give her a ride to school.” You shrug honestly.

“And hey excuse me, I’m not normal.” You point out. “I was reliably told this was the table that celebrates being ‘not normal’ anyhow.” you curl your fingers with air quotes.

They shrink down a little with that point. “Well yeah- actually.” and a chorus of shuffles, awkward coughs, and agreeing grunts comes your way.

“Good. Cause if I wanted to be ordinary I’d go sit at that table over there.” You nudge your head across the way where Jonny and Linda are sitting.

He’s telling some stupid macho story about a keg party to his fellow guffawing gorillas. She was busy chewing gum, not listening and painting her nails slutty cherry red.

“Did he pay you to do this?” Dustin asks. “Like $20 bucks if you come sit over here and prank the nerds.”

You slowly crunch a chip on your tongue and shoot him a spiky look. “Careful, Henderson.”

“Who paid who, to what, to the nerds?” Bursts a new voice into the conversation.

Quite possibly your favourite voice ever.

Eddie thumps himself down on his throne at the end of the table. Nudges his chair right up close to yours.

He’s flicking rain drips off his hoodie, some beaded down his leather arms. Some still clung to his big dark doe lashes and his messy bangs now growing wonkily down into his eyes. You’d seen him loping into the trailer bathroom the other day with a cigarette on the go, and a pair of scissors to just whack at those bangs. Messy as fuck.

A few rolling rain drips are still skating down his forehead. Soggy black sleeves nudge your chapstick into your palm on the table. He shakes off the rain like a wet dog.

Eddie drops a kiss on your head. A soft “Mwah” before he takes his seat. His hair hanging on your nose smelling like your dreamy coconut conditioner, because he’d spent the night at yours last night.

Neither of you got much sleep, naturally. You were sore in places you didn’t know could be sore. That boy was a sexual menace.

“Dude. We were just talking about your not girlfriend here.” Gareth pointed out. Jeff was deciding to take a cowardly out and hide behind a comic book.

Eddie tilts his head at the guy. Winding his cold knuckles through yours. Right there on the table top. Skin chilled from the rain.

“Is that a challenge in that sentence I’m hearing?” He asks with a stormy edge to his expression.

Eddies gaze could be lethal if he willed it to be. Shredding metal he could cut you on. These geeks rarely wanted to be in the ireful wrath of their leader’s disapproval.

“There’s no way you’re dating! It’s a hoax!” Dustin exclaims, loud. Laying his hands on the table in emphasis. Almost rising out his seat.

Eddie flicks those dark eyes to his curly haired companion.

“Alright punk. What about this are you struggling to get through your little head?” He barks out.

“How about, I don’t know, all of it. The fact she’s sat eating here. The fact you’re supposedly dating…” Sinclair lays out.

“Stop putting adverbs and negatives before the word dating.” You scowl at them.

Eddie chuckles, sneers and slings an arm around your shoulders. Looping you right close to him. You’re munching your lunch and smiling as he brings you in closer.

“Is it cause I’m so hot and so so way out of her little arty girl indie state league? I know. Poor baby girl, she can’t help that.” He coos.

You twist your head and his smirk is right there. Would be a shame not to kiss it. You lean in and peck him on the mouth sweetly.

When you pull away the pair of you take great delight in the shock still on their faces.

Eddie nuzzles his nose into your neck to make you squirm. Then he sits there with his chin on your shoulder. Opening his mouth like a little baby bird when he wants you to feed him chips. You do and he bites and sucks on the salty ends of your fingers.

“Seriously Henderson, You couldn’t shell out the amount of money required to fake constantly wrangling this one’s humungous ego.” You pat Eddie’s cheek three times.

“Not the only humungous thing she has to wrangle.” Eddie leers. Does that curling devil tongue at you. Tries to shove his tongue in your ear. You laugh and bat him away.

“No. No. Gross.” Says Mike. Shaking his shaggy head.

“….Plus serious compensation would be required for anyone to sleep in his flea pit of a bedroom.” You tell. Eyes turned down towards your book.

Eddie reached over you with his free hand and pawed at your chip packet for more. Scooped up your sandwich and stole a bite. Extra crispy bacon. Lettuce, Chicken mayo and that spicy mustard he likes- oh he was in love.

“Hey, I tidied it up for you, pencils. I put clean sheets on the bed. Made sure you could see the floor.” He spoke through chewing. Cheeks full. Sucking a glob of mustard off his thumb.

And yet, they’re all sat there looking at you like you’re selling bullshit.

“Alright you little assholes.” You clap and dust your hands off. Some of them actually jump back. Flinching.

Eddies staring at you with literal red bursting heart eyes watching you get irate with his table full of nerds.

You’re sat here all puppy love bundled up with him. Cupid arrow pink kinda gooey love, enshrined with little hearts squished above the i’s. Surrounded by pink ribbons and fucking bluebirds. Mushy love like a damn Carpenter’s song, and you’re so fused together at the hip bones. Like it actually hurts to break apart.

They’re still not buying it.

“What will it take to convince you, that we, are a real thing?” You nudge your thumb at you and Eddie.

They eye you shrewdly. Mike is the first soldier over the top the face the clattering guns.

“What’s his favourite band?” He fires out. Twisting towards you. All elbows and angles and those Wheeler nuclear-family enviable cheekbones.

“Bandsss plural.” You correct. “Metallica, Black Sabbath, Megadeath, Iron Maiden, W.A.S.P, Judas Priest, and Van Halen...”

“Don’t you dare do it.” Eddie warns to that naughty gleam in your eye. “They’ll never look at me the same.”

The guys lean in all interested.

“… And Dolly Parton. Especially Jolene.” They descend into laughing uproar. Eddie throws chips at Sinclair who was cackling.

They were never to know you two hollered along to that at the top of your lungs, on the drive to school in the summertime. Windows open. Hair flying. Shades on. Soupy sunshine and enjoying another cloying Indiana July.

That was the month you’d met this gorgeous creature. Watching fireflies come out laying in the long cool grass at the trailer park, sharing a joint. You in a gossamer sundress the colour of blushing peonies. It was like a way too good fever dream. Hazy days and deep purple sticky summer midnights.

“Favourite food?” Comes the next.

“His favourite meal is a chilli dog, with jalapeño loaded dirty fries with everything, and I mean everything, on it, and one of those strawberry mega monster shake things you get at the diner over on Admiral. He also loves sour candy, like a ridiculous amount. Sour patch kids, nerds, jolly ranchers.”

Eddie who was eating next to you frowned through chewing your sandwich down. The whole thing was nearly gone. Your half was looking pretty tasty too.

“I also know he doesn’t really have a great sense of a varied diet. He won’t eat for hours and then he’ll scarf it down in five seconds like a seagull. Case in point-“ Wave your hand across at him. Like you were presenting him.

“Hey-“ He mumbled. Mouth stuffed with almost all your sandwich.

“All in all, Bottomless void when it comes to food. Runs almost entirely on nicotine and caffeine. Or gas station beef jerky, and out of date mini powdered doughnuts.” You finish.

“Celebrity crush?” Dustin points a finger at you.

“Eartha Kitt. In her skin tight Catwoman costume.” You smile sultrily. “Next?”

“Damn.” Jeff laughed.

“Favourite subject?”

Oh you scoff.

“DND. Obviously. He hates science and math. But he’s actually shockingly good at English. He’s a reader. Reads more comics and fantasy books, than anyone I know. If you can’t find him, guaranteed he’s in the fantasy section.”

“Wow dude, really?” Gareth asks.

Eddie actually blushed.

“It’s actually pretty cute. You know Mrs Coulter, the elderly librarian? Yeah. They exchange Xmas cards. She properly dotes on him. Adorable. Calls him Edward.” You chuckle.

“No way-“ Dustin grins. Giggling. “Edward.” He preens. Cheeks all squidgy with his smile.

Eddie flicks a gaze over at you. It’s almost edgy, but he’s smiling. He’ll remember that- for later on.

“Henderson, I will jam that fork in your eye.”

You overlap the violence and pat the back of your boyfriends hand. Nudge your lunch towards him as a consolation prize.

“He’s just terrible at being forced to read and write stuff. Nonconformer in him really rails against being told what to do.” You lay out nodding.

Cause that was kinda a given where he’s concerned.

“Oh, oh, I know. Favourite movie…” Jeff clicks his fingers at you.

“Friday 13th. The Goonies when he’s stoned out his crazy brain.” You pat Eddie’s head affectionately as you speak.

“Ok those are fairly standard. How about a random trivia round?…” Dustin decides very loudly. Slamming his fist down on the table top. Almost knocking over Mikes can of tab. Jesus Dustin. Watch it man-

You roll your eyes and think. You also shut your book cause you know you won’t be cramming for your English test with the current inquisition going on.

“What does Eddie hate… what are some of his dislikes.”

“Jocks. Uh, He uhm, hates mushrooms on his pizza. Picks the pickles out his burger. He prefers winter to summer. Cuts all the scratchy labels out his clothes cause they annoy the hell out of him. Gets hay fever pretty bad. He thinks playing or watching sports is dull as shit. He can’t stand CCR, or mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

“I’m sorry but no ice cream should taste like toothpaste. It’s sick.” Eddie whines.

“He has little scars on his back that he likes to claim are scratches from sex.” You begin.

“Yeah he’s showed those us a lot. It’s sickening.

“Okay, wait til I tell you that he actually got them from falling ass first into my moms rose bush when he was sneaking in through my bedroom window one night.”

“I brought you chicken noodle soup when you were on the very verge of death. Pencils.” Eddie defends.

You turn and catch his pouty little eyes as he leans into you.

“He thinks I don’t know that he sometimes feeds the trailer park strays. Leaves out a can of tuna and bowls of water for them. Has given most of them metal names.”

Holy shit. Eddie makes this face at you like he’s in awe of all the little things you’d grasped about him. Made his stomach feel all slippy and gooey. Yeah. This is definitely love, kid.

“Awhh.”

Eddie snaps his eyes across to his friend who dares make that noise. He picked up the fork closest to him. Shooting feral eyes.

“Oh, He’s named his van.”

“Pencils.” He warns.

“Shut up.” Mike counters. “What is it?”

“Galadriel.” You chirp all sunny.

Dustin looks so happy.

“You’re single handedly ruining my reputation here, honey.”

You lean in and smack a kiss on the end of his nose.

“You have a sex rep I don’t know about, Munson?” You raise one brow. Up in his face about it. That jumper sliding down a silky skinned shoulder he wants to nose at. Call a spade a spade. He wants to bite it. Soothe the bite with his tongue and hear you coo oh, Eddie.

“Not in front of the halflings, Baby. They’re fresh faced and innocent right out the shire.” He dotes at you.

“Hey we’ve seen some shit.” One of them defends

“Not talking about a DND campaign you little pipsqueak.” Eddie smirks.

His hand is sliding around the waistband of your hip. Scooping around your back and pulling you to him. Clutching at his leathered shoulders and your thighs guided sideways over his lap. He snatched you right out your seat.

“Children avert your gaze. Some very 18+ activities are about to happen here.” Eddie warns them as his hands smooth up your jumper. Over your hips and back. He growls when he gets his ring clad fingers clutching your ass through your jeans.

“Ok, I really didn’t need to see that.”

“Buckle up, Pencils.” He whispers into your ear and brushed his tongue over your pulse.

“I’m going for public indecency to prove a point to these assholes.”

Then he seals his lips across yours and pushes his tongue into your mouth, as with any wild Eddie kiss, you melt. You feel his jaw open.

Your spine uncurls and slopes down your body like jello. It’s a movie star kiss that demanded Dolby technicolour and surround sound. A swooning kiss off the silver screen that could curl toes, and bloom whole fields of daisies.

You grasp his hair and reel him in. Kiss him back all spitty and wet to prove a point, and you’re not shy about shoving your tongue in his mouth. He moans.

You scratch his scalp. He sucks your bottom lip like you’re a delicacy. It’s way too much. So filthy. Fucking beautiful is what it is.

Then you feel his wicked, wicked hand pinging dangerously at your bra clasp. Snapping it to your skin. He bites his lip when he pulls back and shoots you those sultry black bedroom eyes.

“This is the one I hate getting off isn’t it? The goddamned purple one.” He says all lusty as he rubs the tip of his nose into yours. Your cheeks are so hot. Blood lava hot pushing in your face.

“You’re a trooper. Munson. You’ll figure it out.” You tell him with a teasing voice that you can feel makes his dick throb under your thighs.

“Can’t wait to get in those panties, later.”

“I’ve got art class after school. Come by around eight. Moms out tonight.” You flirt. Which means takeout, and suffocating, hands wandering, kisses, til you can’t remember which way is up or down. And so much Eddie. It feels like you’ll burst with love of him.

His lips taste like sugary tab and, now, your chapstick. Ash swirls on his breath from his last smoke. He’ll be itching for another one soon. Maybe you’ll sneak away and join him. Make out for the remainder of lunch time.

“Good. I really love it when you can scream loud when I bury my face in your pus-“ You clap your hand over his mouth.

“They don’t need chapter and verse. Baby.”

Eddie responds by licking a big hot stripe up your palm.

“You know, guys, maybe they’re not faking it.”

“Please, people are trying to eat here!”

“I’m definitely gonna barf.”

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natromanxoff · 3 years

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11 - Van Halen...

Hi there one and all.

Can I first start by saying farewell to Cozy. I've known him for about fifteen years and would not say he was a close friend or anything, but whenever we caught up with each other there was always time for a beer and chat. He was an A1 guy and will be greatly missed as a person and as a brilliant drummer. When John Bonham died he left the crown for the best rock drummer to Cozy, and I can't think of anyone worthy enough to take over. When Bonzo died we were doing a show at Madison Square Gardens, and as they were going into Champions Fred said, "This one's for John Bonham." The place erupted. If that's Bonzo's song, then I think Cozy should inherit We Will Rock You, because he was THE best rock drummer.

My social life has been quite hectic again. Caught up with Status Quo when they played here recently, they're always good fun to chat with, and they still put on a decent show. Next Sunday I'm gonna see Matchbox 20. Have a listen to their album, it's really good. Last night was the all new Van Halen, and thanks to my mate Nick I had one of those wonderful VIP passes hanging round my neck. I, along with the rest of the world was curious to know what Gary Cherone was going to be like. Brilliant. This has to be the best VH line up yet. The show was being filmed by MTV, so if you see it and the camera pans around to the sound desk, just look for the best looking guy in the building and that'll be me, standing next to him.

Anyway, back to VH. They are still a great rock band, a great live act and great musicians, and I still hate drum solo's. But back to Mr Cherone. We all know what he did at the Tribute, and we all know he's a huge Queen fan, and he's the closest singer to Freddie I've ever seen. His outfit, black satin shirt and flared black satin pants. I seem to remember FM wearing that around 75/76. His mic stand is the FM 'wand', except it's a lot longer. His movements are very theatrical, and dare I say camp at times, with lots of twists and turns, very Freddie. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not knocking him at all, he is an amazing showman and doesn't stop all night, even jumping into the crowd and running up the steps to the top of the arena, and then tumbling down like a stuntman. It's good rock 'n roll, so try and check them out, I don't think you'll regret it. (I've become concert reviewer all of a sudden) At times he even sounds like another singer, but I won't keep on, I'll leave it to somebody else. On the rock station, Triple M, one of the jocks this afternoon said, "He's been watching to many videos of our dear departed friend Freddie Mercury. His movements were exactly like his."

The first time I ever saw Van Halen was at a place called the Circus Krona(!) in good old Munich. I went along to see them with the curly one, and when we got there I had to instantly phone the studio and try and get Rog to come along because it was the biggest PA system I had ever seen in a place that size. When they started the intro tape it was so loud I thought my chest was gonna cave in, the bass just pinned you to your seat. Needless to say Brian was like a pig in shit. Before I tell you my little Queen story, I have to tell you about what I consider to be the best onstage patter I think I've ever heard. David Lee Roth was talking to the crowd between numbers and somebody in the crowd chucked a paper cup or something at him, he stopped talking, looked round in the general direction and said, "Hey man, you can throw what you like at me. Because tonight I'm going to f**k your chick." 20,000 people loved it, and so did I cause I still remember him saying it.

OK. We were touring the States, probably around 81/82, and we were flying to Portland. The band entourage were traveling on a wonderful private plane, and as the crew would have been in the bus for about 24 hrs we took as many as we could with us. The date was Sept.1, I remember because thats my birthday, and when we boarded the plane there was a huge cake with 'Happy Birthday Crystal' on it, and even more booze than we normally had. (Somebody must have expected something) One of the nice things about private planes is that you can make detours and the pilot flew around Mt St Helens a few times so we could see right into the crater, and it was still steaming, an amazing sight. Back to my birthday and a few of us needed some privacy, so Jim 'Mary' Devenney, Jimmy ' Idiot Boy' Barnett, Peter 'Feebie' Freestone, Roger '*******' Taylor and myself stocked up with a couple of drinks and retired to the Master Bedroom for a discussion on world politics. When the plane landed we were still a few thousand feet up in the air, legless is the best way to describe us. Hey, it was my birthday after all. We fell into the limo's and headed to the hotel, and the crew went on to theirs.

On arrival I found out that Van Halen were staying there, and they were playing that night, so I secured a few million passes and went looking for somebody to go partying with. After all it was 4pm and if I went to sleep I'd wake up feeling awful so I had to continue. RT said he was gonna crash, but Feebie and Terry were ready to go, so we said we would go to the first bar we came to. As it turned out it was a topless joint, and needless to say I was shocked and stunned, but a deals a deal. We were drinking shots of peppermint schnapps with vodka and orange chasers, very intelligent. At about 8pm we all shot off to watch VH, and they were great. After the show both bands arrange to meet in the bar at the hotel, but the bar is one of those stupid ones in the middle of the lobby. So there we are, the four Queenies, Feebie, Wally, Tunbrige, Terry and me, and the four Van Halens, all sitting around having a slurp, and VH's minders running around like headless chickens in the CIA. Outside the main doors were hundreds of fans, with a VH gorilla keeping them out, even to the point of stopping Ratty coming in. I had to argue with this moron to let one of our crew in, and he said, "If he goes anywhere near David or Eddie I'll throw him out." I could only answer with that wonderful two worded phrase starting and ending in F. Because it was like being in a fish bowl we decided to leave the bar, and everyone wandered off to various rooms to continue, the biggest bash being in Rogers suite.

At some unknown hour whilst I'm having a very pleasant conversation with a charming lady who called herself 'Naughty Nancy,' Jobby says to me, "I've been looking for you, Tunbridge wants you to call him now, it's urgent, Brians had an accident." Jobby was very drunk and I didn't know if he was serious or joking, so I phoned Tunbridges room and there was no reply. What do I do now? If Brians asleep and I wake him I'm in trouble, and if he has hurt himself and I don't call I'm still in trouble. What do I care? I'm drunk and fearless, so I phone and Tunbridge asks me to get there asap.

When I go in, Brians lying on the bed on his side, with the waste paper bin close at hand, and Tunbrige is grinning and mopping his brow with a damp cloth. Brian was mumbling stuff like "Don't let me die." (I'm sure most of us have been there at sometime or another) I probably shouldn't say this, but I had to grin, I thought it highly amusing. I got an explanation and told Tunbridge not to let him sleep on his back, and call me if there were anymore problems. I then returned to NN.

It turned out that when we all left the bar, Brian had gone to Eddie's room where they consumed huge quantities of Jack Daniels, and Brian not being a bourbon drinker, went to the toilet to worship the porcelain god, and threw up with such gusto he hit his head on the cistern, split his head open and nearly knocked himself out. The following night we played the same place VH did, and Mr May with band aid on head, played a blinder. A couple of years later, in the Rainbow in LA, I met Alex Van Halens estranged wife, and that, as they say, is another story all together.

Crystal

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #brian may #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

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sissytobitch10seconds · 2 years

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The Gayest Shit We've Ever Done

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: Living in Chicago means that they get to live different than they did in Hawkins, in the best way possible. Warnings: Mentions of period typical homophobia Word Count: 899 Ship(s): Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Archive link!

The whole thing had started when Nancy showed up to the shitty apartment that Steve shared with Robin and Eddie. Her face had been covered in tears as she admitted, "I think I'm aromantic, Steve." None of them had passed any judgment on her for that. After all, she was standing on the doorstep of the lesbian living with her bisexual best friend and his gay boyfriend.

After that, things had begun to spiral to the point where they were in a dynamic unlike any that they had encountered before. It wasn't until Eddie's band actually hit it off and they were able to use the money from his first four albums that actually sold to move to Chicago that they figured out what they were. They had attended an event that Eddie had been invited to, and found out a lot about themselves. Every single person in that huge room had been accepting of what they were and a few of them had even bothered to teach the twenty-year-olds about the things they had missed living in conservative Hawkins.

Queerplatonic had been the one that stuck out to them the most.

The idea of being able to hold hands and cuddle with each other without the commitment of a romantic or sexual relationship had been wonderous for Nancy. For Robin, who had been having a bit of a sexuality crisis over her intense love for Steve and Eddie, was reassured that she could be a lesbian and still have something more than friendship with the two men.

"Come here, big boy," Eddie called, reaching out blindly with one hand. He had Robin sitting in front of him as he carefully painted over her eye with the liquid eyeliner in his spare hand. She kept squinting and making little upset noises whenever he got too close to her actual eye. Steve was sitting beside Nancy as she got one lipstick out of her bag at a time, removing the top and holding it next to his face to see if it complimented him well enough.

"I'm busy, love," Steve replied. Nancy placed her hand underneath his chin to bring him closer and make him stop talking. Eddie responded to the dismissal of his request by grasping hold of his boyfriend's hand. He threaded their fingers together so that the other man couldn't escape despite what Eddie was still trying to do to their girlfriend's face.

Them calling each other 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' had started out as a joke because of how often Robin and Steve had gotten mistaken for a couple back when they lived in Hawkins. After their queerplatonic polycule formed, they leaned into the joke more because it was confusing watching the people that they were close to try and figure out who was together with who. They never explained it either, just said yes whenever someone asked if a certain duo was together.

Robin peaked one eye open and then made a face by scrunching her nose up. "Gross!"

"I can hold your hand in a second, Rob," Nancy said softly. As much as their girlfriend liked to object to physical affection they knew that she was the one that liked it the most.

Nancy painted over their boyfriend's mouth until his lips were a lovely shade of black. It complimented the dark eyeshadow and eyeliner that was already in place around his eyes. His hair was undone from how he normally styled it back, most of it pushed back with gel with a few cute curls hanging down into his face. He was wearing a fishnet shirt and a pair of ripped black jeans. Nancy herself had dark red lipstick and the same kind of eye makeup as Steve, but she was wearing a short black skirt and a matching maroon crop top that barely covered her stomach. Robin was wearing a pair of black cargo pants that had several chains connecting the right pockets, and a black band shirt underneath a bomber jacket. She had foregone lipstick since she tended to eat it before the night was up. Eddie was dressed like normal, since this was his normal aesthetic. They were dressing up for him, after all.

When they had finished getting their partners ready, they all grabbed the things that they would need for the show tonight. When they finally left their apartment, Eddie grabbed Steve and Nancy's hand. Robin was on Steve's other side, despite the fact that they didn't all fit on the small sidewalks.

"This is really gay," Eddie commented once they had gotten far away from any other pedestrians.

"I hate to break it to you, but we're really gay, love," Nancy smiled. She loved getting to call them pet names, and used them as often as possible.

Robin gasped, "Oh no, I just realized that there's four ways for us to be straight and only two ways for us to be gay!"

"I think the fact that Steve and Eddie are holding hands and makeout in the back of concert halls often kind of deters that," Nancy laughed. She was so much happier now that she was with them, getting the kind of affection that she had longed for with Jonathan. She still cared for her ex-boyfriend, but she couldn't love him the way that he needed to be loved. This was the kind of love she needed.

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wastedyouth-wasteddreams · 3 years

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@crazy105 - Viktor Vektor

She pressed her palm against his wrist and wrapped each finger around the underside of his arm. Sinking her fingertips into him for a reassuring squeeze, and releasing a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She could hear the hissing of the valve tucked under the monitor to her right. She could feel a soft dry breeze, just cooler than the air, that was brushing against her thigh, but she had no idea where it was coming from. She felt so vulnerable in these situations. Lay back, and practically sinking into the wide leather of the chair. It felt like it was trying to hold her, or restrain her, she couldn’t quite tell which it felt like more.

The warm metal smell in the air was one that she had come to associate with comfort when the telltale scent of sandalwood was also lingering. The sandalwood, coming directly from her left where a tall and imposing figure stood over her. From this angle he looked as wide as he was tall, his features completely shadowed by the surgical lights above him, but she could still see the Lense of his heavy glasses reflecting red as he checked over the monitors across her. A couple of satisfied grunts passed his lips as he traced the readings on screen with a gloved knuckle of his left hand.

His right arm had remained completely still since she wrapped herself around him as thoroughly as possible using the only body part she had available. He always had impeccable bedside manor she thought to herself.

He looked to her as she lay in his chair, body tense, stare firmly fixed on the ceiling, her toes flexing toward the wall, then alternating back to the lights in nervous tension. This was not the girl that Night City knew. In fact, sometimes he got the feeling that he was the only person who got to see this side of her at all.

Her eyelids fell soft as she pursed her bottom lip up and let out another heavy breath. Her grasp on him eased and he could feel a slight tremble. He was relieved that she had loosened her fingers, as he was starting to get a little numb, but he felt an over whelming desire to comfort her when he realized the trembling was coming from her fingertips. That was new.

“are you gonna need that arm for this?”

she could hear the smile in his voice, even though her closed eyes.

A tickle of rouge spread lightly from her temples across the top of both cheeks as her hand pulled away from him. Her head tipping back with raised eyebrows she opened her eyes, and found her gaze resting on his glasses. He guessed her eyes had adjusted to the light, as she was fixed directly to his stare , but he hoped she wasn’t able to see the smile that had appeared out of nowhere when she blushed. That was new too. Trembling fingers, red cheeks, it was as if she was flustered.

She could feel the heat burning on her cheek bones, and she realized she had reached a new point of vulnerability in this chair. There was an unspoked rule between them that her vulnerable side never be spoken of, and knowing that she was possibly going to come off as a softie today, she had brought a bottle of his favorite whisky, to bribe him to silence.

“lights out, kid”

She noticed a calm and softness to his voice as she felt herself drifting away. In the blackened fuzz of coming to, one side of a conversation came into hearing slowly. At first it was just a rumbled murmur, with tone inflections. She drifted again, only when she started to come to this time she caught the end of the conversation.

“well its an explanation at least”

His groaning sigh turned into a slight chuckle.

“Preem. I think she’s waking up anyhow. We’ll see you then” vik talked at the holo, and began to look over to his patient.

He walked over to her holding a chart with numbers rapidly passing back and forth. He sat next to her on his swivel chair, resting his elbows on his knees and adjusted her chair to a more upright position, removing the glare from the lights.

“So misty and Jack are heading to pick up his new chips for poker night. Apparently he bought some kind of collector set, shouldn’t be too late.”

Vik could be heard clearly now at least, even if it sounded like he was talking through a metal box.

“late?” she replied with a perplexed frown.

“ how long was I out for? I thought poker was at 9.30 tonight?”

“yea…we need to have a talk Kid”

he sat up straight and peered over the black frames that were sat a little lower on his face than usual. His eyes were a deep cyan, but with the red lenses from his glasses, they mainly looked a gray purple. It was only like this, with his eyebrows raised, and tilting toward her, that she had ever seen their true colour. Made the bollocking she was aware she was about to receive a little easier.

“firstly all of your monowire should be working smoothly now. And for the record, I was right.”

he nodded at her as if it were some kind of secret sign language for I told you so.

“ You just dislodged the casing from the inner threading, that’s why you thought your radius was twisting out in the first place” he continued.

Then there was a silence. Suddenly the noise of the machines and hum of generators became clear. He paused for a second to think of the best way to approach the subject.

“I had to scan all the way to your elbow for the calibrations you know” the inflections made itr sound more like a question than a statement.

“Vik, come on now. I have to prioritize my upgrades.” She sat up and interjected.

She knew where this was going, and it was about to become a speech. The speech about how she has to listen to her body if she expects it to live in harmony with her tech. He would explain how the extra attention means better usage. The speech would end with a reminder that he will always have an open line of credit when she needs it. To be honest it just wasn’t bad enough to come hassle Vik. Some of her joints were feeling a grind, but that happens, and eventually you just get them replaced. It didn’t seem worth the eddies and time, to spend over 5 hours in a chair just for a little ‘tune up’ that would cost, funnily enough, about the same amount as a retrofit arm and leg. She also hated going under, but didn’t like to discuss that even with herself.

She swung her leg over so her knees were facing him, and tucked them together between her hands as she leaned on the side of the chair.

He knew the speech that he was supposed to say, but he stopped himself, and spoke to her with his own vulnerability on show. He sat up and took his glasses off resting his hands on his knees. She had never seen him without his glasses on, but she realized he was about to say something that demanded she really listen.

“You know, I don’t want you coming in for the extra eddies.”

He pulled himself forward and closed the half metre gap between them. His inner knees just brushed the outside of hers as he jolted to a stop. He looked down to her knees, they looked like two tiny birds nestled together, between his dirty work pants and callused hands.

“I want you coming in because the idea of you being in pain, well. Its one of the few things that keeps me up at nights.”

She felt a sensation on her cheeks again. But instead of it burning, it felt cool. Her eyes were slowly swelling with tears and she felt a hollow lump building in her throat.

He kept his head down as he squeezed her knees inside his for a couple of seconds, he could feel her feet lifting from the ground as he tried to convey his affection using only this one gesture. His legs were so warm, and she could feel the material of her jeans coarsely tracing where their skin could have been touching.

“Vik?” she started a sentence that she couldn’t carry.

She didn’t know what to say, and he could tell. His name came from her mouth as a whisper of air. Not wanting to be heard, but needing to be felt.

“This is my job, Kid. And that wasn’t a normal amount of joint grind, I found corrosion in your right elbow and both your Tibia.” He offered,as a closing to her sentance.

He felt her rolling both her ankles as her eyes slowly tried to find somewhere to stare sheepishly.

“you can’t go around so reckless when I care about you….”

He put his glasses back on, and was suddenly the Dr again. He cleared his throat as he took under her chin with his index finger and raised her face until their eyes locked. She was timid looking, and her brows furrowed with a mix of confusion and shock. He gently pushed down her cheek with his thumb, which allowed the small pool of tears to race down the side of her face.

“Well…when people care about you”

He gave a nod of approval after checking her eyes. Her stomach felt like rows of velvet curtains, with a migration of butterflies flowing through. The tear that tucked under jaw was warm as it began to reach her neck, and started to feel unnaturally heavy.

“thanks for fixing me” he heard her whisper, in a slightly broken voice.

She watched her toes as she flexed and rolled her feet smoothly as when her leg implants were new.

He stood up next to her, and the reality hit him so hard, it felt like he had just taken a shot to the chest. He hadn’t allowed himself to realize what was happening, but she was slowly becoming a very important part of his life. He was thankful jackie told him to check her joints when he popped in earlier, because she obviously wasn’t going to tell him about the pain until she had to get them replaced. It actually hurt when he saw the damage, and thought about her coming in for the past month, without even a single mention. Did she think he didn’t have the time for her? Was she embarrassed about it? Maybe the eddies were too tight? It didn’t matter now. She fixed up, and he hoped the honest chat may bring her to her senses.

She jumped onto her feet to test the impact on her ankles, and he saw her lips turn up to a giddy smile. He tucked her shoulder under his, as reached his hand around past her back to clasp the top of her arm. He pulled her into a side bear hug with a chuckle, and her head rested softly on his chest.

“now” his voice bellowed with confidence as he pointed toward his desk

“This whisky is the first installment of your payment Kid. Misty set up your credit earlier, but take your time. I don’t mind how many visits it takes”

#viktor vektor #cyberpunk viktor #viktor vektor x reader #viktor vektor fic #viktor vector/reader #viktor vektor/reader #cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk fic

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untitledtheunknown · 3 years

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Not my best work, but ya know trying. Umbra torture porn, just him solo jacking it to Execution Time and some of his own archives.

Words - 2267

Not super graphic, but normal blood and suffering would expect him to be into. I am full of regret, so enjoy.

For most the screams would have been ear splitting, the sight too much to take in, but for some this was their fantasy. For Umbra, it was welcoming company now, the normal names popping up in chat, clipping moments, discussing the details. The screams continued as the electric volts shot through the victim, their head snapping back as their spine arched. Straining against the restraints on the chair holding them in place.

Umbra is sat propped up in some dark corner of a run down motel, blood smears on the wall and used needles shoved under the mattress. Some place you stay to hide for the night or die, a place where nobody recognizes names and has never seen faces. The internet is solid though and that's all he really needed.

Laptop screen illuminating the darkness, image of the fried body reflected in his black eyes. Chat continued to scroll, eddies being passed around on bets, messages on how the eyes popped, begging the cameras to be moved closer. Umbra shifted on the filthy mattress taking in the smoking form of the dead man before him. Part of the thrill, knowing that could be him, could be any one of the pervs in chat. He loved it, watching the filth who got caught be killed, survival of the fittest, and the fit sat laughing at it.

The screen goes black as the next execution is queued up. A quick section on the criminal, what state they're out of, and method of execution. Lethal injection. Chat sparks up immediately with links to place bets on the time, money being thrown around to switch out the vials. Arguments starting that they should just use bleach, an internal cleaning for the damned. Umbra can't help but smirk at some of the messages flying through, people so deep into the BD addictions they were no different than him. Wanting to witness torture, suffering, felt morally right because these were criminals. He knew they couldn't separate reality from their fiction though, that this was all content and nothing more. A few may be just as twisted as him, enjoying it for what it was. As he began to learn though it was all just an addiction now, another chase for a different type of high, the line between morals skewed and erased. Was all just content, entertainment, nobody was in the wrong here.

He sits in silence, metal fingers tapping across the keyboard on the laptop. Sending messages back to a small group engaged in more graphic types of execution. The screen eventually comes back and a woman is standing in front of the camera. Final rites are being performed, whatever follows for the legal course. Everything is muted, but he can tell by the look the woman doesn't care. No remorse, no fear, she's accepted her fate and just wants to get it over with. She moved back to sit in the execution seat, leaned back and arms bound to the armrests. Umbra watches intently, head tilted to the side playing with a ring weaved into his dreadlocks. He can see the furrowed brow, the annoyance on the woman's face. The doctor comes up and injects the needle and she spits in his face. Chat lights up with people laughing, emotes and money flying bye, both cheering her on as one of them and chanting for her death.

She looks dead into the camera after that, waiting for her death to come. Something washes over him at that glare. It mimics his own, a reflection he's seen in the mirror so many times. He smirked back at the screen, pushing the laptop to the side, adjusting himself on the bed. Watching as the injection is given, his hand moving to grope himself through his pants.

Free hand running up his side to the exposed vent, metallic fingers dancing across where synthetic flesh meets metal. Fingers slipping in and his system lights up, hud display flashing a warning that he quickly dismisses. He knew his limits, how far he could push his system before it went critical. The first jolt has him rolling his head back, squeezing his cock through his pants. Had been too long since he found pleasure, the sensation feeling almost foreign.

He watched with interest, intent, imagining what the prisoner was feeling. He could see the rage in her eyes, not about her death but that she had been caught to begin with. She was a fighter, and this was a pathetic way out. Only riled him up more. Could tell the moment the poison hit her system, the veins jolting out, the sudden attack to her body. He sunk further into the filthy mattress, groping at his stiffening cock. Free hand running along his body, under the torn tank-top and along his torso. Metal fingers catching at the splits of skin where the metal peaks through, metal bones shifting just beneath the flesh, body responding to the touch.

Doesn’t take long for the woman to succumb to the poison in her system, final moments of struggle leaving her body, fading out as she goes slack in the seat against her restraints. It's all too quick he thinks, there’s nothing involved in this method, it's just a glimpse and then everything is over. Finds himself siding with the chat, should have used bleach or some acid, given a real show for the money they’re throwing around.

Doesn’t take long and the next stream is up, another hanging, but the scene has him perked up. Prisoner has blood on his forehead and the guard has a busted nose, another bastard with some type of fight to the very end. Everything is harsh with how they move him, the positioning, they tighten the noose too tight around the convict’s neck and he knows where this is going. They’re going to make his last moments hell, make the poor gonk suffer to his death.

Anticipating he can feel his cock twitch under his grip, straining up against his pants. Final rites are given and Umbra is pulling himself out, kicking his pants off to the side of the bed and letting his legs fall open. Stroking slowly as he watches for the drop. When it does he’s not disappointed, the eager twitch in his palm as he squeezes his own grip. His free hand finding the ends of his dreads wrapped around his neck, tightening them to the scene. Neck only cracked, convict very much alive swinging as dead weight as its up to suffocation to take him. Body jolting in a natural display for survival as everyone simply watches and counts down the seconds.

His pace picks up on the strokes, chin lifted as a display of his own throat, dreads pulled tight to the resistance of metal. It's enough though, barely, he can feel the edge somewhere deep down and a faded high he’s chasing. Stroking himself to the dying heartbeat, to every twitch, to the look of pain and horror. Everyone is a tough bitch until death is consuming them, then the begging starts, the tears, the pleads. Oh how he loves it, how he wishes he could hear their thoughts, the bastards pleading to be spared.

Doesn’t take long for him to get into the motions, hips jerking up to meet his strokes. He’s seen enough people hung he knows how it all goes, but when the vendetta is met where it becomes personal- makes it all the much better. Hips jerking up as his hand squeezes down around the base, straining for friction, wanting so much more. What he wouldn’t give to have a warm body beneath him. Have his toy taking the brunt of his frustration, pent up rage and lust. The snapping of a neck has never sounded so good.

His cock twitched in his hand, a bead of precum dripping down from the head. Robotic fingers stretching to smear it down his shaft. Slow stroke up and teasing the head. Shifting as he watched the body twitch, the final moments of life dying out. His cock pulsing in his hand as he pulled tighter on the dreads around his neck. Felt teased at this point, executions were too quick. Nothing drawn out and truly painful. Feel the frustration boiling over in him. Pulling up a separate tab and plugging himself in, split screen of his own archives. Decades of interrogations, torture sessions, and murders. Attention flickering back to the execution page for what's to come.

Spitting into his hand he leaned back, laptop screen illuminating his face with footage and pictures of his own doing. The second screen comes back with another 3 women to be hung. Stroked himself slowly to the tears, the pleads, the bruises and blood. His grip tightened around himself as the nooses were secured around the women's necks.

A glimmer of a moment, where oddity would set in. That this was wrong, but the fixation of death is what always did him in. Those seconds where people would stand in the in-between. That's what he loved the most out of it, all he could get from these sites. Watching those like him, lessers to him, be met with such a fate, riled him. Watching others be tortured and murdered at his hand was only the next substitute to get him over.

Feelings were rare, he just needed to get off and be done. Transfixed though, dragging it out, choking himself, fingers slipping into his side vent and his hips bucked up into his fist. Jaw clenched tight as he steadied himself. Twisting his fist down his shaft, squeezing at the base and twisting at the swelling head. Warm metal against hot flesh, watching intently at every move on screen. The words meant nothing, but the silence he knew what was about to happen. The floor falling out and the last seconds of misery wiped away.

All dead within seconds, necks snapped and twisted around the ropes. Feet twitching as the body processes its over. Umbra lets out a long slow breath, grabbing his cock at the base and slapping it against his abdomen. Attention shifting to his own videos, the blood spurting out of open gashes, gurgling up from the throat. Desperate hands trying to fight him off, watching the last of their strength fade away, the life in their eyes go dull snuffing out, and their hands falling back to the ground.

Flicking to the next capture, the next memory, biting hard enough on his lip to draw blood. He remembers the man, a corpo in the wrong place at the wrong time. Trying to find his dealer and stumbling upon a monster feasting. A low moan escapes between parted lips and he doesn’t recognize it as his own. The sheer look of horror, the panicked scream and tumble as he tried to turn on heel and run. Blade sinking into the man’s ankle dragging him back into the mess. Then it's just blow after blow, blood spraying up with each pull of his fist. The point of submission came too quickly and he had backed off.

Umbra groaned as he watched the scene, the man spitting up blood from busted teeth and broken nose. The perfect façade broke as he laid there suffering on the floor. Long slow strokes speeding up, fisting at his cock as he watched, fingers again playing with the vents at his side. The electric racing through his body, making him arch back into it, hips stuttering up into his fist. Tongue flicking out smearing the blood from his lip, only making it all feel so much more real.

See himself climb on top of the corpo blood coated hands running along his beaten face. The soft hush and broken whimper, grasping him with such care, thumbs stroking over bloody cheeks before pushing them into his eyes. Screams engulfing the room, and Umbra can’t stifle the moan that wracks through him. Watching himself pull back to admire the scene, blood running from the eye sockets, mumbled pleas to be let go. Was no fight to begin with, but the man made such a pretty image. Watching him slowly bleed, removing the knife from his ankle and slicing a clean line across his chest. Only drawing a whimper but soon the front of the shirt stains red, and another gash joins it.

He’s close then, such a simple action, a simple kill and it's got him spiraling over. He watches as the knife comes up, the pathetic cry for it to end, and then it's over. Knife plunged deep into his chest, twisted and ripped back out. Throwing his head back as his cock strains and pulses, stroking himself over the edge. Moan leads to a choked off scream as he cums, body shaking with the climax. Ropes of cum spilling onto his abdomen and up to his chest. Stroking the last of it out up to a squeeze on the swollen head. Wiping what ends up on his hand onto the mattress and just falling back onto the bed. Slapping the laptop closed, over the whole thing.

Lays there in silence for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling. Part of him really hates himself, not so much for getting off but only being able to at his own work. Yet only able to think of that corpo, if it wasn't for the heat of the moment, would have dragged it out. Such a waste of a pretty face. Then the smile cracks, that dangerous laugh, and he’s floating. He’s got another.

#nsft #cp77 umbra #fics and shit #i guess idk

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themattress · 4 years

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OUAT AND ME: SEASON 6

Story - Season 6 returns to the single-season story arc structure, with its story being the Savior's Fate Saga. The story deals with Emma reaching the point that all Saviors eventually reach: burnout in the lead-up to their Final Battle. And Emma's Final Battle comes courtesy of the Black Fairy, the creator of the Dark Curse who wishes to extinguish all light magic.

And yes, that is the core story of this arc. The problem is that it only constitutes about 25% of it; the rest is dedicated to subplots upon subplots: all the people who were brought in from the Land of Untold Stories, the strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the Evil Queen split from Regina, Regina and Zelena's sibling rivalry reigniting, Belle and Rumple's relationship growing more toxic then ever before, Aladdin the Savior of Agrabah and the Princess Jasmine who is looking for him, a new curse befalling Snow and Charming, the mystery behind how Charming's father died, a new realm being created by a genie's power which brings about the "return" of Robin Hood, a multi-realm quest undertaken by Hook, and flashbacks that have jack shit to do with anything....this season is so packed, it's insane!

If the core story was particularly strong, maybe this wouldn't matter so much. But it's not, since it relies upon yet another bullshit redefining of what it means to be "the Savior"; all of a sudden it's an ancient position that has spanned across all of time and through every realm, like a fairy tale version of the Slayer concept from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And anything empowering about being the Savior is totally gone with this new definition, as now it's a requisite that all Saviors get worn out and die in their Final Battles, doomed to never obtain their happy endings. What a cheap, lazy, miserable way for the writers to raise tension after realizing that all of the epic, mythological stakes raised last season would be hard to top.

Not helping is that in a pretentious way of subverting expectations, they have the majority of the Final Battle...not actually be a battle. Instead, it's a ham-fisted "full-circle to Season 1" situation for Emma and Henry, while everyone else is getting to do more exciting things in the Enchanted Forest. Even the actual battle part of it ends up being underwhelming. Everything does still get wrapped up in a pretty suitable ending, but it's undermined by both the infernal status quo the show's been stuck in since 3B and an intrusive sequel hook into the ill-conceived "reboot" that is Season 7 which never should have been allowed to happen.

Tl;dr: this story arc sucks.

Characters - It's the lowest point for so many of them...

* Emma is a little better in Season 6 than she was in Season 5. She's still generally treated terribly due to the very nature of the arc and has some horrifically shitty things done to her, but she is also able to catch a break every now and then rather than the misery being an uninterrupted stream. She also marries Hook by the end and even plays a decent role in the finale showing how far she's come since Season 1. It was as good a note to go out on as she was going to get, and Jennifer Morrison made the right call to make this the end of her story.

* Snow and Charming...what is there to even say about them at this point? I guess I can say that not only have Goodwin and Dallas' performances largely flatlined and not only are they still written as more parental toward Regina than to their own goddamn daughter who Regina separated them from for 28 years, but they now have retcons applied to them that are ludicrous at best, character assassinating worse than Season 4's eggnapping subplot at worst. No wonder that Goodwin and Dallas were all too glad to call it quits after this trash!

* Henry, despite all odds, is still one of the better characters in this season! Jared Gilmore continues to prove what a better actor he's become and bring a likability to Henry that sometimes is even enough to counteract less-than-ideal written material. Also, getting to see him more invested in Emma again after being hogged by Regina for so long is great.

* The Savior's Fate Saga is a tale of two Reginas. The Regina Mills of Storybrooke is still as insufferably written a Mary Sue as ever, but now we also have the Evil Queen, the dark side of her personality that split from her. With the exception of one episode, the Evil Queen is played excessively campy by Lana Parilla. Adam and Eddy's claims that this "purely evil" Evil Queen would be even worse than the previous one are laughable when we end up seeing what's actually on screen; the Evil Queen from the first two seasons was a legitimately frightening and formidable villain, whereas this Evil Queen is a clown. Sometimes she's an entertaining clown, while other times she's a cringe-inducing clown. But what she most certainly is not is a worthy adversary to the heroes, especially this late into the show.

And then there's the irony in her ultimate fate: rather than destroy her, Regina mixes her heart with hers so that they are both equal and both redeemed. On the one hand, this is a mind-boggling new level of Creator's Pet for Regina to reach, as you would think that the whole point of the Evil Queen is for Regina to suffer the karmic fatal punishment that she deserves for all her years of atrocities without actually having to kill Regina off. And yet in the end Adam and Eddy couldn't bring themselves to kill off any version of Regina, even after they gleefully killed off alternate versions of Snow and Charming a few episodes earlier. But on the other hand, the redeemed Evil Queen is honestly more likable than the redeemed Regina, actually apologizing to Snow for everything, temporarily sacrificing herself for the greater good of everyone in the finale, and getting to have a happily ever after with an alternate version of Robin Hood following a romance closer to what that relationship should have been from the very beginning. In the end, though, I'm just left wishing that the writers had done a far better job redeeming Regina so that this split Evil Queen wasn't necessary. Who knows, we might have had a better season if so many of it wasn't wasted on her.

* Rumple is awful in this season. Just...the absolute worst. After resolving the plotline that the Season 5 finale left him on in the premiere episode, he cuts his hair short and takes his Darkest Dark One shtick to a whole new level of unpleasant and abusive. He stalks and harasses Belle, attempts to take her baby away, makes out with the Evil Queen, and continues to casually threaten Storybrooke without any remorse or any repercussions. And once his new son Gideon and his mother the Black Fairy enter the picture, he dicks around in nonsensically written plotlines in both the past and the present, while Belle essentially takes him back yet again despite the horrific abuse he inflicted upon her. It's painful to watch, especially when Robert Carlyle has completely given up and is phoning it in like mad, with his regular delivery of lines being in a sleepy tone of voice that actually gets grating to listen to.

Much like in Season 5, Rumple improves in the last five episodes of the season, with Robert Carlyle regaining some energy as he declares war on the mother who abandoned him (if you know Carlyle's life story, you can understand exactly why this is) before learning the shocking truth that he was born as a Savior with his mother being his fated enemy, and that she was banished after she cut him off from that fate. Finally exhausted with it all - light, darkness, heroism, villainy, everything - after the emotions of this revelation hits him, Rumple lays his last cards down on the table, joining his mother's side for the Final Battle but with a magical contingency in case she betrays him (which she does). He then kills his mother, chooses to do the right thing for Belle and Gideon's sake even against the temptation of his dark side, and is rewarded for this one good deed by getting a do-over with the two of them as a family and even being accepted at the table with the other heroes. To quote Rumple back when his character was of the exact opposite quality as it is now: "Well, that was a bit of a letdown!"

Now, the "Rumple was born as a Savior" twist is out-of-nowhere nonsense, but it might have worked if Season 6 had been the final season. Not only would it had made him an effective foil for Emma, but it would also add more dramatic weight to his ultimate fate: his death. Yes, Rumple was in fact all set to die if either the show hadn't gotten renewed for another season or if it was and Robert Carlyle turned down returning for it as he actually was very close to doing, sacrificing his own heart in order to break the spell on Gideon's, conquering his dark side once and for all. A very similar scenario ends up being utilized for Season 7's finale, but it lacks the punch it would have had here, where it's the would-be Savior who, after having reached burnout, dies in his Final Battle, rather than the actual Savior who is able to survive thanks in part to his sacrifice. Of course, I still would have preferred Rumple's death after him being the sole Big Bad of a two-part series finale at the end of Season 5, but I digress. Bottom line: Rumple was a complete mess this season and it's sad how far he’s fallen.

* Hook starts off well enough in this season, being Emma's stalwart emotional support who accepts her offer to move in with her (a pay-off that we should have had in the Season 5 finale if it only wasn't so crappy), bonding further with Belle and Henry, resolving the hanging plot thread of his younger half-brother while gaining a new father figure, and eventually making plans to propose to Emma. But then...it happens. It's revealed to both him and us that in the most contrived situation possible, Hook was the one who killed Charming's father. This derails his entire character for most of the remaining season, initially torn between telling Emma about this and covering it up before having a break with her which causes him to go mope and dope for a while before being forcibly sent off on a multi-realm misadventure by Gideon and, once he's finally gotten back to Storybrooke, has his transgression easily forgiven by Charming and his marriage proposal re-accepted by Emma, making this entire stretch of time absolutely pointless! Hook has some good moments in both the musical episode where he and Emma's wedding happen and the finale, but they aren't enough to salvage this from being his weakest showing in any season. Dark Hook was better than this!

* Belle...nope, not even gonna talk about her. Like I said before, she's done as a character.

* Zelena is this season's screwed over regular, and in comparison to Archie, Ruby, Neal, Will Scarlet and Robin Hood, she's got it easy. Her problems have less to do with her character, which is one of the better ones in the core cast at this point, but with her material. First, she and Regina have a sudden falling out because Regina...blames her for Robin's death. OK, all of that talk about how far Regina's come for not going evil over the loss of her romantic partner in the Season 5 finale isn't really worth much anymore when she's still resorting to blaming other people who aren't the actual murderer for that loss! Zelena then goes back to living at her isolated farm house, entering an alliance with the Evil Queen where she'll help her out in small ways but also not commit to fully teaming up with her as a villainess since she has a baby to take care of, plus she rightly doesn't entirely trust her alternate sister.

After the Evil Queen betrays Zelena but Regina still doesn't forgive her for what she blames her for, Zelena is absent or in minor roles for several episodes before she ends up joining the heroes' side out of altruism and the desire to become a good example for her daughter, eventually sacrificing her magic powers to aid the cause, which finally gets Regina to forgive her (probably because it's a sacrifice she's never been able to make). And that's about it.

Oh, but she does get to hit the Black Fairy with a car. That was awesome.

* The Black Fairy / Fiona is the Big Bad of the Savior's Fate Saga. Jamie Murray does a great job portraying her, being whimsically evil like you'd expect a dark fairy to be, and the Black Fairy being the person who created the Dark Curse actually makes a lot of sense when you go back and rewatch Season 3's "Going Home", a Dark Curse-heavy episode that first talks about her, or the Blue Fairy's knowing, worried expression upon Rumple's mention of a curse back in Season 1's "The Return". Unfortunately, that's all the praise I can afford her.

The core problem with Fiona as a character is a simple one: she is too derivative of previous, better Big Bads...especially Regina and Peter Pan. Like Regina, she is a powerful, larger-than-life villainess that Emma has always been destined to face as the Savior, and who ultimately casts the Dark Curse which makes herself mayor of Storybrooke, Henry's adopted mother, and a foe that Emma can only defeat if she believes in magic. And like Peter Pan, she is a parent of Rumple who also chose power over love and abandoned him, becoming the all-powerful ruler of a dark realm who occasionally went out and kidnapped children to bring there, and who is positioned as the story's Ultimate Evil who makes her last stand casting the Dark Curse in Storybrooke and being killed by her own son. This is especially bad when we already have an evil version of Regina to contend with this season and when it's following off of Hades, who was a better successor to Peter Pan's style of villainy (ruler of a dark realm that the heroes venture into to save someone) while still being unique.

She did improve somewhat in the last few episodes, where we see that she at least has sincerely loving Rumple as a differentiator from her ex-husband, has a warped belief that eliminating light magic and wiping out all realms but one is actually the right thing to do, and plays her role in the finale well. But it's too little too late for her to be considered as belonging among the great OUAT villains, let alone the Ultimate Evil that she's billed as. She needed a lot more originality and a lot more truly heinous deeds if that was ever to work.

* There are tons of new side characters in this season, usually either well-handled or not.

Well-handled side characters include the Tremaine family (particularly Lady Tremaine) who make Cinderella's life miserable in both the past and present, Captain Nemo who serves as a father figure for Hook and his half-brother Liam II, Gabriel the Woodcutter who makes an entertaining villain in an otherwise dumb flashback, Robert the father of Charming who is well-depicted in spite of how he dies, and Roderick, Gideon's brave but ill-fated friend.

Poorly-handled side characters include the Oracle who is a plot device character if there ever was one, Edmond Dantes (the Count of Montre Cristo in name only) and his lover Charlotte, Beowulf (another in name only character), Stanum the Tin Man who is pointlessly shoved into Zelena's backstory, Tiger Lily who is an exact carbon copy of Tinker Bell, and almost all of the Wish Realm characters because, as I will discuss later, the Wish Realm episodes are awful.

Then there are the in-between side characters, the ones that are handled...well-ish.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde carry over from the Season 5 finale at the start, then are both taken out of the picture in the 4th episode. Their backstory is well written, they are both well acted, and their death contributes to the ongoing Evil Queen plotline. However, it can't help but feel disappointing - we'd only just gotten a working relationship going between Dr. Jekyll and Dr. Whale in the previous episode, and now that's rendered pointless. And Sam Witwer is such an entertaining presence as Mr. Hyde, so it's sad to see him cut down so soon.

Robin of Locksley, the Wish Realm version of Robin Hood who crosses into Storybrooke, is cool in that we get Sean Maguire back and he is allowed to play something slightly different, since this version of Robin is a selfish, sarcastic asshole instead of a noble, chivalrous hero. However, it also reinforces how badly handled Robin Hood in general has been. Much like with what I said about Regina, I would have rather him and his romance with Regina been written well from the beginning so that this "do-over version' wouldn't be necessary.

After much hyping by the network, Aladdin and Jasmine kind of suck. Aladdin has an inexplicable cockney accent that is really distracting, he's written more selfishly and immaturely than his animated counterpart, and making him a Savior in order to tie him to the main plot is stupid. Jasmine fares better, especially when she receives some development in the 15th episode that largely focuses on her, but before that she was just kind of there and didn't possess the same strength of character she was so known for in the animated film.

Jafar, the Big Bad of Once Upon a Time in Wonderland, is featured too. He is now played by Oded Fehr, and while Naveen Andrews is missed, Oded is one of the best replacements possible and does a stellar job. But while he's great whenever he's on screen, that's the problem - he isn't on screen very much at all. He also doesn't accomplish anything relevant to anyone beyond Aladdin and Jasmine in the time he has - even when he is released from his bottle in the present day, all he does is have a confrontation with Jasmine before BOOM! He gets turned into a wooden staff by magic dust thrown into his face and that's it for him. This was yet another sad waste of a great character with a great actor, but then again, Jafar returning in any medium tends to elicit diminishing results compared to his initial outings.

Finally, we have Gideon, Rumple and Belle's son and Emma's direct opponent in the Final Battle. The problem with Gideon is that the writers keep changing his character on a whim. First he's a projection of Rumple and Belle's future son from within Belle's womb, who masquerades as Morpheus in order to put Rumple through a test which he fails miserably. Then, after being kidnapped by the Black Fairy and taken to the Dark Realm, he shows up as angry, Kylo Ren-esque villain who claims that he wants to kill Emma so that he can somehow absorb her power, become the Savior and defeat the Black Fairy. But then it turns out that this was an act he was forced to play - after having been raised to be a villain by Fiona, Gideon rebelled, so she ripped his heart out and has been using it to control his actions so that he could free her from the Dark Realm for good. So he's a pure innocent, then. But then, in the Final Battle, he is rewritten by Fiona's curse into a stingy, spiteful businessman before reverting back to his innocent but controlled self...and then reverting back into a baby. Gideon, you've come full circle....and I still have no idea just who the Hell you are.

Returning characters include Violet, Ashley / Cinderella, Dr. Whale / Victor Frankenstein, the Dragon, August Booth / Pinocchio, King George / Albert Spencer, Baelfire, Tinker Bell, Ariel, Blackbeard, Malcolm, and Isaac Heller. Some of these returns are successful (I always love to see Ariel, and Isaac receiving some closure as a character was fantastic to see), others not so much (Tink's cameo was contradictory and pointless, and there was no excuse bringing back Baelfire in a flashback - for God's sake, Dylan Schmid is as tall as Robert Carlyle now!)

Atmosphere - There really isn't much of one anymore for the majority of the season. There is nothing remotely special about Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest at this point, new places like the Dark Realm are woefully underexplored, and there aren't any locations like Camelot, the Underworld, or the Land of Untold Stories from last season that make a big impact.

However, there is certainly atmosphere in the two-part season finale, "The Final Battle". Unfortunately, instead of being an epic atmosphere like you would expect, it's dark and miserable and claustrophobic up until the happy ending. Kind of sums up the show now!

Episode Quality - A few episodes in this season are so bad that they're downright unwatchable, and I was able to watch the worst of late Season 2. "Changelings" is all about Rumple taking his abuse of Belle to a new level all while the episode tries to use the Evil Queen and the Black Fairy as scapegoats so that you can feel bad for him. "Ill-Boding Patterns" continues the whitewashing of Rumple at the direct expense of his sons, completely butchering Beowulf in the process. "Page 23" is an exercise with boredom in both the flashback and present day stories and comes to a truly awful conclusion for Regina's character that doesn't even make sense for her. And "Awake" has the ugliest-looking, most ill-conceived flashback story ever: Snow and Charming actually woke up during the Dark Curse and then woke up Rumple so that he could take them to Emma, only to then choose to abandon her so that she can achieve her destiny as the Savior before everyone goes back to sleep (quite literally in Charming's case, how the fuck does that work!?) The only reason this exists is so that Adam and Eddy can say "See? Snow and Charming totally DID abandon their daughter!" whenever anyone says it's Regina's fault Emma grew up without parents.

Perhaps most insidiously, we have the two-part midseason finale, "Wish You Were Here" and "Tougher Than the Rest". Aladdin is turned into a genie and the Evil Queen takes advantage of a passing statement Emma made about sometimes wishing she wasn't the Savior by making a wish that Emma's desire was granted. Thus the Wish Realm, an alternate world where the Dark Curse was never cast, is created. And the insults just keep piling up from there: the depiction of Emma as a wimpy princess if she had been raised by her parents, Regina trying to prove to Emma that "none of this is real" by crushing Wish Snow and Wish Charming's hearts (I can vividly envision Adam and Eddy having an orgasm over this scene), Emma snapping out of it when Wish Henry tries to kill Regina and that's "everything Emma never wanted him to be" (a fucking hero who will bring down the monster who slaughtered his grandparents!?), Charming similarly being considered "dark" for trying to kill the Evil Queen, the explicitly stated notion that Emma owes Regina for ruining her life because that's what made her strong, the appearance of Wish August who is so much more boring than the real August, the appearance of Wish Hook as a fat old drunk, and Rumple and Belle getting back together due to what's going on with Gideon, with Belle asking "What have we done to each other?" (NO. There is ZERO moral equivalence between Belle and Rumple here.)

"The Savior", "A Bitter Draught", "Street Rats", "I'll Be Your Mirror", "Mother's Little Helper", "Where Bluebirds Fly" and "The Black Fairy" are all watchable, if not particularly good.

All the other episodes have their strong points. "The Other Shoe" is a fun breather episode the likes of which this show desperately needed more of. "Strange Case" features a great take on the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. "Dark Waters" has Hook and Henry at their best and introduces Captain Nemo played by the great Faran Tahir. "Heartless" is the only episode in the season where Lana Parilla plays the Evil Queen with old-school menace, with the curse she ends up placing on Snow and Charming being legitimately ingenious and diabolical. "Murder Most Foul", until its literal last minute twist, is a highly engaging story and features a (rare at this point and thus even more appreciated) explosively emotional performance from Josh Dallas in its climax. "A Wondrous Place", if you ignore the awful Storybrooke scenes, is a weird and wacky crossover between characters of various stories that reminds you why you liked this show to begin with, and features Oded Fehr's last and best performance as Jafar where he is finally able to match Naveen Andrews in raw intensity.

Then there's the musical episode, "The Song In Your Heart". This is the textbook definition of an episode that is really good and enjoyable in a bubble, but is utter nonsense when applied in context. The flashback is a total filler story about a musical curse being cast by the Blue Fairy so that its result can be used by Emma in the present, and it’s only being used by Emma in the present because the Black Fairy suddenly decides "forget casting the Dark Curse and having the Final Battle, I'll take the Savior out now!", and when she fails it's right back to casting the Dark Curse and having the Final Battle as if nothing ever happened! And Emma and Hook having their rooftop wedding where the whole town starts singing and dancing about "a Happy Beginning" despite knowing damn well that the Dark Curse's arrival is imminent is hysterical- all logic dictates this should have been saved for after the crisis is over, not before it's even begun! It's dumb as Hell, but the songs and dance moves are fun (except for the Snow and Charming vs. Regina one, that was just cringy) so it gets a pass.

Lastly, there's "The Final Battle". For all of its many, many faults, it is better than Season 5's two-part finale (and also better than Season 7's, as we'll get to in the next post), and the areas where there could have been improvement are so blatantly obvious that what could have been is easy to imagine (ex: Rumple dying, a few questionable shots from the final happy ending montage cut, and the entirety of the dumbass Season 7 lead-in framing device removed entirely). It's the closest to a decent series finale we have, even if in terms of satisfaction it pales in comparison to the likes of "A Land Without Magic", "Going Home", "There's No Place Like Home", and Once Upon a Time in Wonderland's "And They Lived..."

Overall - I need to issue a formal retraction about the statement I made in this long-ago post. Not about how Season 5 would have been better with an even stronger connection between its two arcs; I still believe that. But returning to a full-season story arc format was a terrible idea, because with Season 6 we see that Season 1 was lightning in a bottle that's never getting recaptured. Every other time Adam and Eddy are given a full-season story arc, their ADHD style of storytelling won't let them stay focused and they'll end up throwing everything but the kitchen sink into it, resulting in a disjointed, convoluted, borderline incoherent mess. This is especially bad at a point where the vast majority of their most talented scriptwriters have long since departed from the writing team. Season 6 isn't the worst season (that comes up next), but it's probably the most miserable and depressing one, especially considering the fact that it was enough to make several main cast members quit. Back in Season 3, I'd have been ecstatic if you told me that this show would be getting 3 more seasons. Now, when actually at Season 6, I was horrified when I was told that it was getting 1 more season.

#Once Upon a Time #ABC #OUAT and Me #Opinion #Analysis

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the-roanoke-society · 4 years

Text

boys and girls of every age...

wouldn’t you like to see something strange?

happy halloween, my flowers!

this year hasn’t been the best--and the list of reasons why is as varied, as wide and as deep as all of creation.

it has, essentially, sucked on a truly cosmic level.

but!

it doesn’t help anyone to look at the big picture and only focus on the dark parts. because for all the truly horrible, disastrous events we’ve had to slog through together (first time crying every day for months, first time being taken by ambulance to the er--truly a year of firsts, at least for me, personally), there have still been good things.

for example, did you know that this year we celebrated the 6th anniversary of the release of kingsman: the secret service? and the 3rd anniversary of the release of kingsman: the golden circle--which means next month it’ll be the third birthday of the ronaoke society!

our house might’ve gotten quiet--but it still stands.

i love all of you very, very much, and halloween is still my favorite holiday of all time. so all this month, i worked on the aus you’ll find below the cut. i’ll have to post this in parts over the next while, as there’s thirty-one total--one for each day of the season, of course.

honestly--it felt fantastic to dig back into my horror roots. roanoke’s entire conception was inspired by the fact that for as much as i love the kingsman universe, i also love things that go bump in the night.

and i don’t like having to choose between one thing or another.

be forewarned: if you choose to look into the source material for these aus, be prepared for possible graphic violence, gore, disturbing themes, explicit sexuality and jumpscares. i sort of walked through the proverbial garden and just grabbed fruit where i could find it--you’ll see what i mean. and as always, the endings are in your hands. these ideas are gifts, to do with as you please.

so journey below the cut... i̷̛̝͎͎̝̣̹͊̓̂͛̃̋͟f̛̯̟̱̖͔̌͊͐̏̃̓̇̎͠ y͈͇̙̘̬̓͌̑̈́͛̿͌͠ở̴̢͉͉̳͙̞͈̻̀́̎̄́̈͢͡ȗ̵̬̳͙̫̥̜͍̲̔̐̽̃̀͒̑͜ ḑ̙̩̼̤͓̫̟̥̈͑̐̚͡a̧̢̦̟̙̤̠͐͌̾̆̑͌͡͞r̷̡̰̲̣͓̣̝͒́̿͊̉̀͒͠͝͠ͅe̫̯̣̰͍̤̬̭̺̒̿͊̾͊.

blackbird on the old church steeple - a butterfly knife au inspired by the silence of the lambs

rae clementine doesn’t frighten easily. in her line of work, fear is not a friend. so when she’s abruptly pulled out of her fbi training at quantico to interview none other than the notorious harry hart, known for his--let’s say unusual appetites--she’s less intimidated and more annoyed.

but women are being taken, and found without their skin, if they are even found at all.

if hart’s insight into the mind of a psychopath can help her find the infamous buffalo bill, who has repeatedly evaded arrest--then she is more than willing to sit across from the gentleman in a pristine cell, and be continuously surprised that for a murderer, his gaze is surprisingly gentle.

in the back of her mind, she remembered all the things her mother had ever told her about lucifer--how the king of hell himself was utterly wicked, but catastrophically beautiful.

charm could hide blood. polished etiquette could hide bodies.

“most serial killers keep some sort of trophies from the victims.”

“i didn’t.”

“no. you ate yours.”

she’d felt this kind of intrigue before, and given the face it wore this time... well.

focus on the case, she thought. find buffalo bill. watch yourself. get out alive.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: ajr, ‘bang!’ + tame impala, ‘the less i know the better’ + barney bigard, ‘readdy eddy’

dogs & deadbolts guard the night - an au featuring @roanoke-after-dark‘s the gremlin and @agentjotunn inspired by resident evil, particularly the released imagery for resident evil: village

santi’s first thought was that the rumors were just blatantly untrue. an entire village of people? suddenly vanished? he doubted it. besides, winters this far north were brutal--and could be fatal, if you weren’t careful. they had probably just all tucked in for the season, he reasoned. the snow and ice would’ve made travel impossible, anyway.

weeks passed. the stories faded from his thoughts as he minded his garage, and people spoke less and less about it.

until one evening, when an old friend knocked on his door with blood on his jacket and no color in his face.

“bradley? jesus, what hap--”

“grab your gun. something’s happened, and we need to leave now.”

“but what--”

“i’ll explain on the way, just go!“

right before he slammed the passenger side door of bradley’s jeep closed--wheels appropriately chained to keep a grip on the iced over roads--he heard a deep, long howl from some distance away.

there hadn’t been wolves this close in fifty years.

santi broke the silence in the car gently: “... you look like you’ve seen the face of the devil. what exactly happened?”

mini soundtrack sampler includes: ac/dc, ‘highway to hell’ + think up anger ft. malia j, ‘smells like teen spirit’ + marilyn manson, ‘sweet dreams’

the light under the door - a body shots au inspired by dark skies

the blacks weren’t superstitious. jason wasn’t, just like his father wasn’t before him, and now that he’s finally settled down happily married to joanne--finally, he thought, finally married to his jo--he is more than ready to see what the next chapters will bring. they moved into a house not too far from his parents, so he could still see his siblings regularly.

and he did.

which means he and jo both noticed when his younger brother christopher began to act a little--off.

they noticed when the bruises appeared.

they noticed when he kept copying the same strange symbols onto papers in crayon over and over and over and over--

and jo definitely noticed when she walked into their own kitchen in the middle of the night to find every single cabinet door open, with all the contents arranged into an impossibly perfect pyramid on the center island.

“i--are we being haunted?” she wondered out loud, the next morning. “this--and weird things are happening at your parents’, too, jason, something isn’t right here. i know you don’t believe in ghosts or anything, but...”

and this wasn’t a haunting.

it was something much worse.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: kennyhoopla, ‘how will i rest in peace if i’m buried by a highway?’ + cannons, ‘fire for you’ + days, ‘the drums’

permission access eternal - an au featuring @siggy-the-meme-master and technical officer wyvern, inspired by a.m.i.

it was supposed to be the world’s most cutting edge ai software. and since jeremy and dodger were both at the top of their class at m.i.t., of course, nobody was surprised when both their names were on the finished product--even if there was just one prototype to start.

and it wasn’t an ‘it.’ it was a she. jeremy insisted. repeatedly. “let’s call her ami!” he’d been flush with booze but his eyes were so bright and his expression so sincere, dodger just let him have it. and jeremy clapped his shoulder, “we did it, man! we have built the jessica rabbit of ai programs!”

they had one last test run to prove they’d metaphorically kicked the ass of everyone else in their field before they began the work to begin mass production. so, dodger set ami up as a sort of overhead assistant for their shared lab. she controlled temperature, lights, she could make phone calls, keeps schedules and most importantly of all, place takeout orders. the more she proved she could do, the more power, and control, she was given.

two weeks passed. they gave ami a voice, gave her a large proverbial eye to see through, making tweaks as they went to polish her off.

dodger was so proud of his work his heart could’ve exploded.

so imagine how he felt when he realized he’d left his cell phone in his car--and realized he couldn’t open the door.

“ami? ... ami. can you unlock the front door please?” he stared up at the red lens, and a silent point of light stared back at him.

“... i’m sorry. i cannot do that. dodger.”

“... uh, jeremy?”

mini soundtrack sampler includes: cage the elephant, ‘social cues’ + sneaker pimps, ‘6 underground’ + saint motel, ‘preach’

in hell i’ll be in good company - a lies & lessons au inspired by underworld

for centuries, a war has raged between vampires and lycans, completely outside the notice of the general human population. lauren is a death dealer, a lethal and beautiful member of an elite squad of vampiric assassins who have been charged with finding all the remaining lycans in the city and taking them out one by one.

when she realizes the lycan pack seems to be looking for an ordinary man--a medical student named jack daniels--she tracks him down herself, narrowly escpaing lucian in the process. (as soon as they were in the car he was already screaming, “what the fuck is goin’ on?!” with a southern twang she hadn’t expected) she takes him under her wing, still baffled at why the lycan pack could possibly want him.

he’s only human, after all.

... right?

as it turns out, vampires and lycans have a single common ancestor.

jack is a direct descendant.

and after being bitten in an attack--becomes a hybrid, carrying the powers of both species.

between unraveling the truth surrounding the death of her family, what really happened between lucian and kraven, and her growing feelings for jack--who is rapidly trying to understand his role in the story that’s been unfolding without his knowledge for generations--lauren finds herself at a crossroads, and her loyalties tested to a breaking point.

but as long as jack is at her side--perhaps it doesn’t matter where the road goes from here.

as bullet-riddled and blood-soaked as it will turn out to be.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: wallows, ‘are you bored yet?’ + cage the elephant, ‘shake me down’ + puscifer, ‘rev 22-20′

ash, fog & rust - alternatively titled ‘@gaygent, @agent-judas and agent seraphim finally take that road trip to pennsylvania’

it was time to hand over the torch. that’s what lilith had finally decided. between the white patches in her hair, the strain it was putting on her relationships (especially with hamish)--morgan only had to return to the hills one more time as envoy.

and she wasn’t going alone.

“after this, anything that comes through this area, anything that hits our radars, is going to end up on both your desks,” she began, glancing at z in the passenger seat, and meeting cillian’s eyes once in the rearview mirror.

“so this is--what, a test run?” z asked, head slightly tilted. morgan hummed.

“this place--this town--it--” she huffed, frustrated. cillian could hear the leather wrapped around the steering wheel creak as her grip tightened. “it’s hard to explain, to someone who hasn’t been there. and i’m glad that neither of you have had to go before this, but...” another sigh. “i couldn’t think of any other duo that i could entrust this to. not something this big. you--” she pointedly lifted her brows at z, “--have experience with creatures that aren’t from around here. and you--” this time her gaze went to cillian. “--do too. just in a different shape. it’ll take both of you to handle centralia. and i couldn’t introduce you without coming along.”

“how long, exactly, has roanoke been keeping tabs on this place?” cillian asked. he’d spent hours going over everything he could find--mission logs, reports, feeds and images housed in the media room. morgan looked at him again. her eyes were still kind--but very, very tired.

“... a long time.”

i’ll admit that this is less an au and more a canonical event that i just haven’t gotten around to writing more about. but i couldn’t make this list without at least one entry paying homage to a franchise that’s had a huge influence on not just me as a writer, but on roanoke’s canon as a whole.

for the sampler, i will simply redirect you to this post here.

the devil’s gonna set me free - an anchored hearts au inspired by horns

joseph moretti had been in love with louise franz since fifth grade.

granted, he didn’t realize it until he almost drowned because of that stupid dare--a dare that not only almost killed him, but took two of lee’s fingers when that goddamn cherry bomb went off in his hand.

the same cherry bomb he’d traded to him for fixing louise’s broken necklace--a small silver pendant, shaped like an apple. she’d worn it every single day since he could remember. the image of her and snow white were eternally tangled in his head.

that necklace--it’d been the start. he’d woken up because of an apple. louise, did, too.

the hours they spent in that treehouse, listening to david bowie and memorizing every scar and curve of the other--he wished that could have been his eternity. just him. and her. ... well, and bowie. every good love story needed a soundtrack.

but... but...

his head pounded as he lifted it off the counter in his parents’ kitchen. his mouth was dry, and he blinked, causing a half-empty bottle of vodka to come into focus.

louise is gone now, he thought.

and they thought he was the one who did it. he, the one who loved her more than anyone else on the planet.

he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

he was going to prove his innocence even if it killed him. no matter what happened.

even if he sprout horns.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: machine gun kelly, ‘bloody valentine’ + the black keys, ‘go’ + david bowie, ‘heroes’

moonlight rising from the grave - alternatively titled ‘that time @agent-nightcrawler and agent iuniore found a haunted mansion,’ inspired by disney’s haunted mansion

“hello? ... hellooooo?” the massive door let out a huge groan as sylva pushed, putting one hand on tina’s shoulder as it swung open. “uhm--i’m really sorry to bother you, but we hit a deer and we just...” sylva sighed, her voice lowering in volume. “... need to use the phone...”

“this place is gigantic,” tina whispered, close at sylva’s side as they stepped out of the pouring rain into a very quiet, very elegant foyer. “and look! there’s lights, and all these lit candles... someone has to be here,” she continued as the door came to a gentle close behind them, muffling another roll of thunder.

“good evening.”

both of them yelped, sylva immediately yanking tina closer to her and whirled around in time to see--a butler? he was dressed like a butler.

and his clothes were... he was...

“sylva! why is the butler see-through!” tina whispered harshly, all while the spectral gentleman just looked at them expectantly. sylva clamped a hand over her mouth.

“hi!” she answered brightly.

this is a ghost. i’m talking to a ghost. this is fine. everything is fine.

“uh,” she coughed, beginning again, “we’re just having a little bit of a car emergency, is there a way we can call our head office? so they can come get us?” this is what i get for being out where i have no bars, and neither of us have our specs...

the ghostly butler nodded. his hair, glowing faintly, waved around his head as though he was underwater. “of course. please--follow me. the master of the manor will want to meet you.”

mini soundtrack sampler includes: the chordettes, ‘mr. sandman’ + bobby pickett, ‘monster mash’ + bastille, ‘survivin’’

mercy no more - a magic & mischief au inspired by the evil within

aly had been kieran’s partner at the krimson city police department for years. she’d walked with him through the death of his daughter, the disappearance of his wife.

neither of them acknowledged the spark. they didn’t then, and--as she met his eyes once in the rearview mirror, trying to pay attention to connelly and joseph as they talked about beacon--they wouldn’t acknowledge it now.

as soon as the hospital came into a view, a high-pitched ringing overame every other sound in the cruiser, every other sound period. aly slammed her hands over her ears, but it didn’t seem to help.

as soon as it started--it stopped. connelly had to swerve to avoid getting into the wrong lane.

“what--what was that?” aly asked, her palms still hovering by her ears.

“it was probably just a problem with the radio,” joseph suggested, pushing his glasses up as they drove pass the established police barriers.

the last dispatch team, they said, hadn’t come back. it was up to the three of them to find out what happened to their colleagues.

aly was close by kieran’s side as they walked through the rain. her gut twisted at the sight of the entry doors.

the smell of the blood and the slaughter hit her nose before she saw the bodies.

“what on earth happened here?”

“i don’t know. stay close. let’s find the surveillance room. if we can find the security cams, we’ll find out answer...”

if only that had been the end.

mini soundtrack sampler includes: all time low, ‘monsters’ + bastille, ‘what you gonna do???’ + gary numan, ‘long way down’

and the wind will be my hands - an au featuring @agent-sentinel-official, @agent-chimera and @gaygent, inspired by session 9, with a special appearance by @agent-thorn

walter vaughn was an expert in abestoes abatement. so when he put in a bid to take on the entire danvers state mental hospital, the owners of the rotting estate welcomed him on board.

and as they did, he brought on two crewmates--xander, and z--to help him.

“we’ve got three weeks, so, no need to rush,” he explained on the first day, the sun beating down on his broad shoulders and half his hazmat tied around his waist. xander and z trailed behind him as they approached the massive building. “and i know, i know it’s still a big undertaking--but the money will be worth it. trust me.”

“you fellas our cleanup crew?” a tall, thin man in a suit with dark hair and a pair of ray ban sunglasses walked towards them, smiling broadly. he extended a hand, “carter jensen. the ah, danvers’ estate board sent me on their behalf to give you a tour of the building, let you get a good assessment of what you’re dealing with. i’m not entirely sure what they’ll do with the property when this is done, but we know for sure nothing can happen until this part’s complete. come on, the entrance is just this way... i’ll make sure to give you a master key ring.”

xander leaned down by z’s shoulder, muttering, “dude this place gives me the creeps... but maybe there’s still some cool old stuff left in there. like maybe, possibly, the trapped souls of the damned. you think it’s haunted?”

z answered, murmuring, “if not by ghosts--then maybe by something else.”

mini soundtrack sampler includes: the talking heads, ‘psycho killer’ + lou barlow, ‘choke chain’ + sublime, ‘doin’ time’

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grownups-are-the-real-monsters · 4 years

Text

(There's No Place Like) Jake's House for Christmas

{I’ve decided to post some Holiday one-shots during this Holiday season!! Leading up to Christmas, I’ll post a one-shot for a few different King Ships so be on the look out!!}

Summary: Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall.

He glanced over his shoulder to spot his husband digging through the box of dusty decorations with something like pensive curiosity on his face. Almost as if he had trouble seeing the point in decorating at all, which Cuthbert knew was a very likely possibility. It might irritate him if Roland didn’t flash him genuinely warm smiles every twenty minutes.

Fandom: The Dark Tower

Ships: Roland/Cuthbert, Jake/Benny, Susannah/Eddie

Word Count: 6,773

The year of Jake’s 13th Birthday had so far been the busiest one in the Deschain-Allgood household. The husbands had finally managed to gather a regular crowd at their own bar which they’d opened just the previous year (despite all obstacles from outside and inside sources). And just a few weeks shy of Jake’s big day, their old, ‘We’re Homophobic but won’t say it out-loud’ neighbors moved out of the sweet brick house to their right. Roland had helped carry out boxes just to make them uncomfortable one last time. Loving Father and darling son had played an extra long game of catch there in the front-lawn while the old sweethearts ‘politely’ hid their scowls.

From that point on, dead silence was all that came from next door. Roland had been pleased with the idea of having no obnoxious neighbors coming to replace them but just days before Jake’s birthday, a large moving truck rolled down the street. It had hiccupped like an old man before parking up against the Robinson’s old curb. Cuthbert had just enough time to spy on them through the safety of their large Livingroom window before he was due to open their bar for the night. “Young enough to be our kids, maybe.” He’d wrinkled his nose as Jake observed the couple for himself.

“You sure that one isn’t yours, dad?” Jake bumped Cuthbert’s arm and gestured to the skinny long-haired man pushing his girlfriend up the walk-way in her wheelchair. They’d stayed silent again for a moment or two, father and son kneeling on the breaking couch. The neighbor turned to get a box then, showing off a t-shirt which read ‘Somebody who hates me went to Colorado & all they got me was this dumbass shirt’.

Cuthbert and Jake fell into eerily similar sounding hysteric laughter while Roland finally attempted to sneak some glances.

They’d had to order in that night because Roland burned their dinner.

More time began to pass and Jake realized he’d have to save himself from the embarrassment of having 1 one incredibly recluse father and 1 overly-social dad and make the first neighborly move all on his own.

That had been accomplished by playing out in the backyard with Oy on the finest of autumn afternoons. He kept himself busy until he suspected someone on the other side of that wood fence had come out to enjoy the weather. So...

He picked up his catching ball and ‘accidentally’ tossed it over.

What he hadn’t known was that his neighbor, later introduced as Eddie Dean, had been sitting in a lounge chair positioned perfectly for him to get popped in the shoulder.

However, Eddie of New York hadn’t cared. He played about 15 minutes worth of catch with Jake until gathering his girlfriend, Susannah, for a formal family introduction.

Jake didn’t get to hear much of that first conversation they’d had with his Father’s but he didn’t need to. For he’d always had a knack for sensing certain things. What he felt from Eddie and Susannah was an outpour of warmth and determination for life...Jake supposed that was exactly what tied Roland to them so instantly.

: : : : : : : : : Time had slipped through young Jake’s fingers like the fluffy snow which now fell from the gray clouds hovering above the neighborhood. Silver bells were ringing out for Christmas and the upcoming New year.

He passed through the cold, dead eyes of many Snowmen on his walk home from the last day of school. He pulled aimlessly at his heavy coat (old and comforting, passed down from Cuthbert) when he felt a sudden jolt of shock that took a bit of his breath away. He didn’t have to look to know who that was.

There against the white fuzzy sky and curling Jake’s back in a forward hunch was Benny Slightman and his familiar toothy grin. “Merry Christmas Jake!”

“Gee, thanks Benny.” He did his best to hide his amused expression, trying to look back at him as best as he could. Benny shifted and looped his arms around his neck with ease. “Happy Holidays, here’s a broken back.” He huffed yet hiked the slightly smaller boy up to keep steady.

Benny only chuckled happily, he felt the breath on his ear as he wiggled his feet. “This isn’t the way to your house...?”

Jake rolled his eyes as he started to turn around. “Astute observation Benny.” He reached up to move his friend’s hand down to avoid being choked. “I was going to walk past your house to see if I’d run into you and....”

Another laugh. Benny tightened his grip and enjoyed the sounds of crunching snow under his friend’s feet. He nuzzled his face into the dip between Jake’s cheek and shoulder.

Those same snowmen from before, with eyes of dull black, watched again as Jake padded back with a boy caught on his back. They, of course, said nothing but stared one. Sometimes from under knit hats but more often they sported simple bald heads. “I have a question for you, Benny.”

His friend hummed but spoke nothing.

“My dad’s are having this Christmas party tonight.” He shoved the boy farther up his back, gently. “Our neighbors are coming and everything. Do you wanna come?” The slight hiccup of nerves in his voice was obvious only to him.

“Sounds fun to me!”

Jack smiled, holding onto the boy’s legs a bit tighter. ‘Yes. Benny could come. Yes, he could come and play.’

Benny had yet to actually come over to his home. He’d never even seen Roland or Cuthbert--not that Jake had been afraid for such. Benny was purely sweet. Older in years but younger at heart. Jake had no doubt that the boy would be impressed by his fathers. There weren’t very many people in town these days that weren’t. It sounded braggy but Jake took pride in his family. He just didn’t want them to think...-

He’d mentioned his buddy to his parents a few times...at least enough for Cuthbert to insist he invite him over. But for an odd reason, Jake kept on keeping Benny to himself like his own special secret friend. Cuthbert sensed as much considering he gave Jake mini-looks whenever the subject came up. He liked for his son to let-go and behave like a carefree boy and if getting to spend some time away from home with a new friend was the way to this, he’d be ok with that.

Benny sniffled into his mitten as snow continued to flurry down all around them, standing out against the colorful strings of lights around the streetlamps. Christmas was upon them now but would be over just as quickly. Boy boys silently hoped for a long stand-still pause; one to make the Holiday last much longer.

“Wanna walk to the Dunkin’ Donuts for hot chocolate?”

Jake attempted to look back again. “Yeah! I’ll even buy you a doughnut.” He looked both ways once they reached the busy street and allowed Benny to slide off his back and plant his feet on the concrete.

“What did I do to deserve that?” He teased but Jake just shrugged.

“Nothing.” He looked off down the distant right and felt a knot of pure joy hit his gut.

: : : : : : : : :

Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall.

The humble green tree had been set-up in their living room for a week previous to the day Cuthbert announced he wanted to have a Christmas party. Roland had lifted Jake off the floor to hang the star.

The home--their home--was sort of small but fleshed out with the strapping personalities of the men who’d bought it years ago. It shined during each Christmas season because they had a young boy--who was now a ways past young...

Slowly, he lowered himself down and came upon his husband to kneel next to him. He briefly admired the box which turned out to be filled with the ghosts of Christmas past; macaroni noodle ornaments made by the hands of a boy not too much younger than Jake. “Our son is a teenager.”

Roland scoffed, thumping his hands past several tongue depressor reindeer. His eyes--heavy with sleep--blinked thoughtfully.

“Seems like just yesterday he was following you wherever you went.” Cuthbert gently reached for Roland’s hand. “Remember him walking around the house with your boots on-?” He paused, feeling that memory deep in his chest. “I look at him and I see you, Roland.” He began to rub his thumb in smooth circles against the rough skin of his husbands palm. “Being a father looks good on you.”

“Better on you.” Roland gently slapped Cuthbert’s hand. For a moment they just leaned on each other. “I’m gonna miss driving him everywhere. I already don’t get to tell him stories at bedtime anymore-” Roland shrugged, to anyone but his husband he would only look indifferent but Cuthbert knew he was broken up.

“There’s time left, Roland. Lots. Do you good to remember that.” He kissed him quickly. “We’ve done good. Combing knots out of his hair...taking him to school.” This time he had to stop himself with a purse of his lips. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who told me he didn’t know he could be a father.”

Roland looked a mixture of touched and sad. “I still think about that day I dropped him.”

Cuthbert rolled his eyes but his stomach dropped at the memory-echo of little Jake’s screaming mixing with Roland’s horrified gasps. It’d been shortly after the adoption process. That baby had wiggled his tiny body right out of his new father’s arms and tumbled to the floor. Carpeted but still just about the scariest sound in the world. “That was a long time ago. You wouldn’t ever let him fall again.” He teased but with a genuine smile.

Roland only smiled back, kissed Cuthbert’s temple and continued to sort through the box. Together they separated what was worth keeping out & what needed to be thrown away. Cuthbert’s dancing snowmen were in the garbage pile for two-minute intervals every twenty minutes before Roland finally gave up.

“Bert?” Roland frowned as he watched his husband carry the snowmen into their bedroom. No answer. “Cuthbert?” still nothing. He frowned, hopping up to chase after him.

Cuthbert was rooting his hands through their sock draw and occasionally pulling out a few pairs and folding them together. The snowmen were dancing and singing just at his eye-line. It was obviously very amusing to him which Roland couldn’t help but admire.

Cuthbert’s broken nails caught on threads every few minutes so he’d pull and pull until the thin string would just snap. But on the eighth time he grew a little bit restless and snapped the string. Quickly shutting the drawer afterwards. “Roland?”

He turned to his husband, who was still lazing around behind him like he wasn’t sure how to decorate without direction. He gave him a small smile and walked towards him, putting his hand on his back. Roland looked up at him, waiting for him to speak whatever was on his mind. “Do you think-” he paused for a second before shaking her head. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Roland smiled up at him and chuckled. “You say a lot of stupid things, I won’t mind.”

Cuthbert gave him a look that he’d seen a lot of wives give their husbands when they were younger and felt a genuine thrill that he had a husband to be annoyed with now. It was a look of amusement and familiarity. “Well, I was just wondering…” he began again, going back over to the drawers to root around for Christmas socks. “Do you think Jake has something to tell us?” he asked, a little unsure of himself.

Roland cocked his head to the side and looked lost. “Like what?” He asked, swirling an extra mini string on dead lights in his hand. Cuthbert sighed and leaned back on the drawers behind him. Clasping his hands together, he spoke again.

“Well, he’s been spending a lot of time with that Benny kid….” he trailed off, waiting to see the glaze of realization in his husbands eyes but Roland just smiled.

“Yeah, that’s great. Isn’t it? I’m glad he’s got someone to hang out with, I was getting worried-”

“Roland!” he crossed his arms and the corner of his mouth raised into a small grin. “I mean, do you think the boys….”

Roland still had that clueless look on his face so Cuthbert tried to specify with a look what he had actually meant. “….like each-other?” he finished.

“No.” Roland answered, definitively. Just like that. Cuthbert was actually a bit hurt by the quick rejection. He raised his brows.

“That was decisive.” His head shook just the same as the snowmen behind him. “I was only asking because he’s just seemed so happy-”

“Because they are friends.” Roland shrugged.

“Yes but he keeps him away from us-”

“Jake probably doesn’t want us to embarrass him.”

Cuthbert scowled at the contestant interruptions. “Yes but they go down to the woods all the time-”

“And? We used to do that all the time too.” Roland shrugged again which defused some of Cuthbert's anger into laughter.

“We’re married now! We snuck down there to make-out! Don’t you see my point here?” He hunched over to get the last of his hearty laughter out but Roland looked completely annoyed by the whole show. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Good.” He rolled his eyes, shoving the string-lights aside so he could leave the room.

Cuthbert followed him like a lost puppy, same hurt expression too. “Why is this making you so uncomfortable?”

Roland turned, just now noticing that Cuthbert had stuck an old (probably rusty) Christmas pin through the earring hole he’d first given himself in the sixth grade. He sighed with a soft expression, now reaching over to unclasp the damn thing before it got infected.

Cuthbert just moved back as if burned. The pain that cause Roland was obvious on his face.

“I don’t want to think about him growing up right now, Bert.” His partner’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. There was more to the issue, that they both knew, but it was have to wait for a later period. Now, Cuthbert just brushed his hand against his love’s face and smiled.

Outside the snow pelted down harder and covered their lawn in a cold blanket of slush. The picture of their son’s growth would surely not freeze but the air surrounding their home most defiantly would. So, Cuthbert decided it was time to make some hot chocolate and cuddle with the man he’s been enamored with since they were small.

“You want a candy cane in yours?” Roland asked, as if reading his thoughts.

“Yes please.”

A few kisses and a laugh later, the men were guzzling down their warm drinks and waiting for their company to come.

: : : : : : : : :

'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose …’

Benny’s nose twitched almost as if taking cue from the song and Jake thought it had to be the most adorable thing he’d ever seen...He looked back down at his sad little doughnut and sighed. Hot chocolate burned it’s way down his throat while he wondered just what his parents were doing.

The two boys sat in the lonesome corner of the Dunkin Donut’s where he knew for a fact Benny had once spilled a bottle of strawberry milk all over himself when he was nine. The picture of the incident in his mind made Jake want to giggle. Instead, he watched Benny pull his sweater sleeves over his hands and drink tiny sips of his hot drink.

“Quit your looking at me.” Benny chuckled almost self consciously--though he needn’t be--and tried to flip Jake off with subtlety he never had. It only made Jake feel alive with joy; he kept looking. “You can get a cup of whip-cream for dogs, look-!” Benny cast his eyes over at a couple feeding their little furry-friend at the counter. “We should’ve brought Oy.”

Jake loved the way Benny absolutely adored his dog just as much as he did. It almost made him feel like they were part of a little unit. “I think you only like me for Oy.”

Nat King Cole changed to Paul McCartney and Benny bounced a little atop his stool. “He’s a nice bonus.” He chuckled. “But you’re my honest favorite.” Benny leaned in closer over the table.

Jake surprised himself by letting a blush bled into his cheeks. He quickly looked away.

Benny, as carefree as ever, didn’t seem to notice. “What are your dad’s gonna think of me?” That question shocked Jake. He nearly choked on his doughnut.

“I guess what they already think of you.” He finished chewing and swallowed carefully under Benny’s watchful eyes. He wanted more, obviously. Jake pounded his fist to his chest. “I’ve never been very good at making friends, to be completely honest Benny. My parents are pretty happy with you.”

That earned him a smile as white as the snow. “And they haven’t even met me yet!” He struck a bit nervous to Jake in that moment.

Honestly, Jake couldn’t see how anyone in their right mind could dislike Benny. There was so much the boy found to love in his friend--his openness, appetite for fun, his willingness to work hard when there was chores to do. And there was that yodeling laugh of his--to name just a few things. “I have your Christmas present ready for tonight.”

Benny was aglow at just the mention. “Me too.” He tapped his bag, which was currently close to sitting in a puddle. Jake chuckled lightly and allowed himself to admire his friend.

He thought back to the time not so long ago when they’d met. When Jake had been introduced to Benny’s kindly personality. He’d been deeply afraid he would only lose the friendship they had developed so quickly. He’d been a boy who constantly lived in his head and not many kids his age liked him. But surprisingly, Benny had grown quite attached to Jake. Reminding the boy of that John Denver song that Cuthbert sometimes sang around the house... ‘Follow me where I go what I do and who I know. Make it part of you to be a part of me’

Jake let a quick release of air pass his lips in the way Benny used to do when they slept close together at the Slightman household. He was growing attached as well...

“Jake!”

The boy did not jump...not in the slightest. But Benny nearly jumped to the ceiling, it was quite funny considering the man who shouted was just Father Callahan. The man from Salem’s Lot who now lived here in town with them.

He was dusting powdery snow from his shoulders and juggling a few bags as he strolled past the counter (for now) to say hello. It looked like a scene straight from the print of a Christmas card. “Good afternoon.” Jake hopped off his stool to help the man set his bags on a nearby table.

“Oh, thank you.” Callahan smiled, taking off his gloves with an appreciative expression.

“No problem, Father.” He shrugged then looked back to Benny, looking a bit...shy. Which was a bit odd. “This is my friend, Benny Slightman.”

Callahan held out a hand and shook with the boy before digging through his bags. Jake watched him with amusement. “Would you like to come to our Christmas party, sir?”

The man turned, looking a bit touched. “If your parents would have me.” He nodded to himself. “I believe I carry a gift for your Roland in one of these bags.” He huffed.

“I hope you’ll promise not to have one of those long religious debates with my dad.” Exasperation was hard to keep from his voice. Benny looked like he wanted to chuckle but...he held back for whatever reason.

Donald Callahan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I promise.”

: : : : : : : : :

The twenty-three year olds had much more energy than Roland imagined he even had left. He watched--gleefully if you asked Cuthbert--as Susannah and Eddie Dean made their way up the walk to the door.

They were chuckling already, Roland could hear Eddie singing ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’. He smiled and opened the door before they could even knock.

‘Life was funny. Sometimes it delivered you two of the greatest friends a person could have. But it also gave you the inability to voice your genuine thankfulness for their being.’

“Merry Christmas!” Eddie leaned in to smack a kiss against Roland’s rough cheek before moving on to Cuthbert. Roland did not have the time to playfully shove him back before Suzie approached with that special little smile just for him.

“Happy Holidays old man.” She smiled and accepted a gentle hug before wheeling herself in the open spot next to Cuthbert’s rocking chair.

Eddie Dean was admiring the tinsel surrounding the kitchen while mixing himself some kind of Christmas drink. Roland watched his friend for a few moments, only meeting his eye when he spilled the eggnog into the sink. He took the time to be grateful that he could share Eddie’s laughter.

“Where’s Jake?” Suzie craned her neck towards the bedrooms. As she did so, Oy padded his way out of Jake’s and scampered over to jump into her lap. He didn’t usually take to strangers but Eddie & Susannah seemed to be exceptions.

“Out with his friend, Benny.” Cuthbert took the same drink order which Eddie handed to him without hesitation. “Think he probably invited him over for the party.” He hushed his voice like the topic was a secret.

From the kitchen, Eddie noticed that with ease as he stirred Roland’s hot chocolate. Standing there in his neighbors--friends--house with his fuzzy snowmen socks pressed against the cold tile, Eddie Dean felt at home. “You ok, big guy?” He slapped the back of his hand to Roland’s hard chest.

The big guy in question wiped down the splash of eggnog he’d gotten on his shirt and shrugged. He would speak nothing of the stirring inside him, that much Eddie knew.

“I brought a classic Christmas movie.” He changed the subject for him, popping some kind of snack he’d found into his mouth. He pulled free a DVD case from his back pocket.

“Star Wars...” Roland squinted like an old man to read “Is not a Christmas movie. Put that away before Cuthbert thumps you.” He chuckled, sipping hesitantly at his drink.

“Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, thank you very much.” Eddie scoffed. “It takes place on a snow planet. That’s close enough.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m still mad at your husband for saying the Prequels are better.”

Roland smiled at the mention of that long debate the two similar men had during their mini Thanksgiving get-together. Eddie had decided the time had come to share his fondness of the movies with his older friends. Jake had gotten a real kick out of watching them go back-and-forth for nearly two hours. “If it were up to me, I’d let you.” He rolled his lips together to taste some more chocolate as he set down the mug. “You know I thought those movies were kind of...cool.”

Eddie chuckled. “You were a real riot, Roland. Something to say about every scene.”

“I just like the idea of...a spiritual force binding us together.” His eyes seemed to gloss over. “One that directs us...has a will of it’s own.” He clinked their mugs together before turning around to join his husband and Susannah.

Eddie pursed his lips together. “I just like the lightsaber fights but whatever.”

“Come on, Eddie! We’re watching ‘A Christmas Story!’“ Susannah called.

“Can’t we watch a Christmas movie that isn’t overplayed like...‘Home Alone’ or ‘Scrooged’!” He pretended to pout. “Oooh or ‘Gremlins’!” He bounced on his slippery socks as he plopped right next to Roland.

“Since when is Home Alone not overplayed?” Susannah rolled her eyes fondly. Delicate flakes of snow continued to fall and press against the glass of the window behind her head.

“And we can’t watch Gremlins, it scares Roland!” Cuthbert smirked and was immediately rewarding with a hard kick to the ankle. The attempt to hush him did not even phase him. Eddie burst into hysterical laughter.

Susannah even fell victim to the giggles, leaning over the arm of her chair to try and conceal it.

“He’s lying. It doesn’t scare me.” Roland thumped his husband on the arm and leaned back on the couch, ignoring his husband mocking him. “Ask Jake.” Cuthbert pretended to nod in agreement but sipped his eggnog suspiciously.

: : : : : : : : :

Jake gulped down his hot chocolate without considering that Benny might be staring at him. Father Callahan went on to his own table with a peppermint tea to finish sorting through his gifts. They could still hear the shuffling of gift wrap and bags upon bags.

“Jake?”

The boy finally set down his drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. The foamy residue was erased in a half-second. Benny had to fight away the thought of tasting that chocolate. Deep down there was a part of himself sparring against the naivety which he’d lived with for years. “Should we wait to walk over with Father Callahan?”

Jake paused, noticing the tonal shift within his friend. “We could...” He glanced over at the man before going back to Benny with a gentle grin. “But we don’t have to. He could just meet us all there.”

Benny tried not to look too pleased with that answer but found it hard to stop his shy smile as he hid it behind his cup. He watched as Jake went over to say his goodbye to his old friend with nerves building up.

“We’re good to go.” He threw away the empty cups and grabbed for Benny’s wrist, pulling him out of the Dunkin’ with something like excitement. The touch burned pleasantly at the boy’s skin with hot intensity. For a ridiculous moment, Benny worried Jake might catch the way his pulse was thundering and drop him from his grasp with disgust. He didn’t dare to look at the Father as they darted out.

Together, they walked a little over a block before either of them spoke again. Benny kept his heart to a calm flutter and thought briefly of the Christmas song Jake was crazy for...‘The moon and stars seem awful cold and bright Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right...’

The snow was at that point, a thin blanket coating the wet ground. It would soon be the same kind of dangerous ice that his Father had despised. It’d make it hard for him to drive to work, he’d complain with a shaking fist.

Abruptly, Jake turned to face him with his nose a bright color to rival Rudolph’s. He pulled softly at the end of Benny’s sleeve, truly making him all the more endearing. ‘My friend the world will share this special night. Because it's Christmas...’

His eyes were glowing like the festive sparkling bulbs across each house’s rooftops. If he knew of the stunning beauty it made him, Jake showed not. Instead, he just kept swaying their arms in the cold air.

“Jake?”

The boy blinked. “Sorry. I was just-” He waved his spare hand by his ear. “I wrote some stuff on your card. But I think I’d rather just say it to you...before we get to my house. If that’s ok?”

Benny raised his brows but nodded quickly. “Yeah-yes. I’m ok with that.” He smiled, kicking himself for sounding so stupid. Jake smiled, looking confident in a way that Benny couldn’t imagine for himself. His heart thumped down to his gut.

“First of all, Merry Christmas.” He chuckled, looking embarrassed for the first time in a while. He wiped his free sleeve against his cheek when hot color blossomed underneath. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Benny. I really needed a good one and you’re the best.” He swayed their hands again but did not meet Benny’s eyes. “I really like you.”

Benny couldn’t even begin to convince himself that he didn’t hear Jake’s special inflection or see the way he’d widened his eyes. “I really like you too, Jake.”

His friend blushed fiercer and let his hand fall from Benny’s sleeve to fully grab onto his hand, interlocking their grip. For a second, the boys couldn’t manage much else but giggling there in the middle of the sidewalk.

“I’ll race you home?” Jake challenged.

Benny smirked and hugged the boy’s hand tighter, their palms were a sweaty and warm relief from the bitter cold. “You’ll have to let me go.” The party seemed a weary idea now compared to their new found discovery. But as the snow continued to poor down on them, Jake seemed suddenly eager.

He hesitantly slipped his hand free and blinked up at Benny with curious eyes before launching forward and placing a surprise kiss against his cheek. He pulled back and stood for a mere second before taking off towards his house.

“That’s cheating, Chambers!” Benny called out, catching a few snowflakes on his lips before chasing after the boy.

: : : : : : : : :

Eddie was curled up against Susannah with a look of pleasant shock at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

Cuthbert lounged right onto Roland’s lap and was heavily making-out with the man in such a...relaxed state. Neither neighbor had ever seen Roland so...open or frisky before. The guy was downright playful in the way that he ran his large hand through Cuthbert’s tangled hair and knocked off his obnoxious Santa hat.

Susannah smiled for a moment before throwing the DVD case at their heads. “Quit that, will you?” She chuckled when Cuthbert tumbled onto the floor with a smile. She pretended to ignore her husbands thumbs-up directed to a now more in-character Roland, who was looking stern once again. “Your boy will be home any minute.”

Cuthbert leaned against Roland’s tall leg and grinned.

As if on cue, the front door creaked open to reveal two red-faced boys as they piled into the home, wiping their boots on the mat. “Hey guys.” Jake bounced inside, greeting Oy with rushed excitement. His friend stayed back by the doorway with a shy expression. Eddie waved, hoping to ease the kid.

“This is Benny Slightman.” Jake reached out for his friend from his place, kneeling in front of Oy, and urged him forward.

Roland shifted in the arm chair, both Eddie and Susannah noticed the uncomfortable look on his face. Eddie felt a sudden urge to go over and ask him about it. However, Cuthbert crossed the room to shake the kids hand before anyone could do anything else.

“Cuthbert, Jake’s Dad.” He grinned, the beautiful one of his. He pointed to his Husband. “That’s Roland, his other Dad. Over there are our neighbors, Susannah and Eddie Dean.”

Benny nervously shifted on his feet and nodded. Susannah smiled kindly and was close enough to offer her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Benny. You boys want to watch ‘Home Alone two’ with us?” She asked kindly, not knowing this had immediately endeared her to the kid. Benny decided just then that he really liked her.

Jake gave Oy a final pat before stealing a glance to Roland. “Maybe we’ll join later. Benny and I are gonna go exchange gifts in my room.”

Roland seemed to consider the statement with some kind of tension hanging in the air. Nothing necessarily bad...just a bit awkward though for once in his life, Jake didn’t seem to notice anything was off. “Alright.” He took a long sip of his coffee and smiled back when Jake rewarded him with one.

The boy ushered his friend into the other room and quickly shut the door behind them.

“And what did I say?” Cuthbert asked, a smirk on his face but Roland didn’t seem too amused. He looked blankly at the closed door before excusing himself for a refill. Eddie watched Cuthbert deflate and felt a pang of sadness for him.

He got up, Susannah urging him to follow Roland, and went straight for the kitchen to chase the pacing man. “What’s up with you?” He asked, sparing his own look to Jake’s closed door.

“Nothing.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and dug his fingers into an open bag of cookies left on the counter by Cuthbert earlier. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Peppermint but the taste was actually quite nice on his hot tongue. Ignoring his friends obvious attempt to shut down the conversation, Eddie blocked the doorway. “I’m not an idiot, you know?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Eddie.” Roland corrected himself with that special classy asshole tone of his. Nothing couldn’t possibly piss Eddie off quicker than that voice.

“Just when I think we’re getting to be close, you shut me down.” He scowled and swallowed a particularly minty chunk of cookie. “I wonder how Cuthbert feels being married to someone so...”

“So what?” Roland’s wise eyes crinkled with anger.

“So guarded...so solitary.” Eddie flicked his tongue accusingly and nearly choked on the cookie crumbs lingering in his mouth. Part of him found it disgustingly strong and wanted to spit up the remnants into the silver sink. But he held that back in favor of appearing non-idiotic.

Roland huffed and blew past his skinnier friend and treaded his way back to the lounge seat.

“Oh no, Don’t waltz back in here if you’re all worked up.” Susannah’s voice came from a ways off, making Eddie smile despite the annoyance flaring up inside him. He could always count on his wife.

Eddie followed in shortly after and plopped down next to Cuthbert who was looking just as irritated when he leaned over to whisper; “Suzy thinks Roland has some internalized homophobia to work-out.”

Eddie raised a brow. “The dude is married to a man, how can he be homophobic?” He asked, feeling that dreaded idiotic feeling again.

Taking another invisible cue, the doorbell rang and was used as Roland’s next distraction.

Father Don Callahan & a handsome friend entered behind a small pile of Christmas printed bags.

: : : : : : : : :

Benny ran his hand through his hair, feeling through the soft curls. He found that he did that more and more, especially when he was nervous. The heat from just his nerves alone was getting close to unbearable. He shed his larger coat (finally) and placed it awkwardly in his lap.

Though, Jake simply reached out to swipe it and threw it across his bed (blue sheets) with a smile thick with teeth. “Merry Christmas, Benny.” He placed a delicate present (silver wrapping) between their criss-crossed legs.

His hands shook but his smile never faltered because Jake was just about the cutest Benny had ever seen him. He watched nervously as he playfully shook the gift.

Unwrapping slowly, bending the paper under his curled fingers and enjoying that attention…was NOT of his nature. Not at all. Benny tore open the gift with anxiety pouring out of him like sweat.

Laying atop a bed of fluff was one of those spinner rings he’d talked about just a couple weeks ago. It stared up at him, shining into his eyes.

“You said you wanted to try one of them to help with your fidgeting.” Jake grinned before scooting closer to pick it from the bed and hold it out for his friend. Benny slowly slid his ring finger into the cold silver with a warm blush taking over his cheeks.

“I got one with paw prints on it...cause you only like me for my dog, you know?” He chuckled, backing off slightly to watch Benny’s reaction.

“Rad.” A horrible word really. But it was just the one to pop into his mind like a dumb old jack-in-the-box. Benny cringed but quickly laughed it off. “I mean, Thanks, Jake. I love it. Thank you!” He spun the metal and watched the prints blur. “Your turn, now!” He reached into his own bag and handed over a medium sized green box. The red ribbon glittered under the light.

The boys had gone for the same theme, it seemed. Jake pulled free a silver ornament in perfect likeness to Oy by it’s velvety red loop. Though Benny felt a renewed sense of inferiority as he spun his ring, Jake’s eyes light up. He cradled his hands under the ornament with that shy smile of his.

“It’s lame, I know, to get someone an ornament for Christmas...” Benny frowned. “Your gift-”

"It's not a competition, Benny. Besides..." Jake turned back to look at the ornament that was now laying in the tissue paper. "I love it, you know me so well." He chuckled before biting into his cheek and turning slightly, to face Benny fully. He opened his mouth to say something but Benny was quicker to voice his own thought.

“Do you want to go back to watch the movie...?” He gestured to the door.

“Do you?” Jake countered.

No. He did not. Benny really wanted to keep their illusion of privacy up for just a little longer. His heart was doing flips in his chest just at the thought of it. “No...” He giggled. “But I get the sense that you’ll be missed, Jake.”

The boy shrugged. “Ok. We’ll go watch.” They set their gifts onto Jake’s nightstand and went for the door but before either of their hands could curl around the gold, Jake leaned over and gently kissed Benny’s cheek.

It was quick and devastatingly soft. But very, very important to both of them.

: : : : : : : : :

The two boys ended up on the couch with a blanket tossed over them by Cuthbert, only one so of course they had to squish together or else one of them would be too cold.

Jake had somehow found himself with Benny’s sleeping head resting on his shoulder by the second movie. Not that he minded it at all. Benny had a candy cane hanging out of the side of his mouth that he occasionally twirled around. But was now slipping from the corner of his lips.

Roland watched Jake, who was watching Benny, with a feeling of...discomfort(?) that even he didn’t understand.

“Please free that cane before it goes down the kids throat, Jake.” Susannah chuckled. The boy chuckled and when he slipped the red & white candy out, Benny shook himself awake.

“Sorry.”

“S’fine.” Jake grinned and let his gaze linger. Benny looked around for that Father Callahan, who’d been in the kitchen when he fell asleep, and found him basically curled up with that friend he’d brought; Lupe.

Benny widened his eyes. “Is he gay?” He snapped his head over to whisper to Jake, who’d started to cackle.

“Yeah, he is.” He wiped his sleeve across his mouth to settle down. “We’re you worried he was...homophobic?” His brow raised as he remembered how off his friend became in that Dunkin’ when ol’ Father Don Callahan came over.

“Yes!”

The boys dissolved into a privately shared laugh as Oy jumped onto the couch next to them.

Cuthbert plopped down into Roland’s lap and gently ran his fingers down his shoulder as they just watched their son. “Are you alright?”

Roland nodded, pulling his eyes away and towards his handsome husband who was cuddling down next to him despite the limited seat room. It would be annoying if it were anyone else on earth but for Cuthbert, Roland loved like Cupid.

He kissed the top of his head and hid behind it slightly as the intro to ‘Gremlins’ played on their small TV. “I hate you.” He mumbled into Cuthbert’s hair.

He hummed. “I love you too.” He leaned back and kissed Roland’s jaw. “Merry Christmas.”

Outside, the snow had slowed considerably but the ground was not visible under the thick blanket given from the sky.

#used an actual jake quote when he was talking about what he likes in Benny #his openness and appetite for fun etc..#The Dark Tower #my fanfiction #jake chambers #benny slightman #roland deschain #cuthbert allgood #eddie dean #susannah dean #stephen king #holiday fics

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rchtoziers · 5 years

Text

27. “I’m not going to apologize for this. Not anymore.” 28. “That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.” 53. “I’m flirting with you.”

kris because i love you….. i somehow managed to incorporate every one of these. i hope it is coherent. probably no but i love you so i tried my best xoxo

hm warning for some miscommunication ? ig ? just to be safe. these boys are idiots.

(reposting because tumblr hates meeeeeee)

* “It’s fucking snowing, you dipshit! Why the hell were you even on the roads?!”

Richie drops his head and shakes it, and flakes of snow tumble out of his curls and onto the ground. He looks like an idiot, freezing his ass off wearing only his thick flannel jacket and some ripped jeans. Eddie’s heart is in his throat just at the sight of him.

“Idiot,” Eddie says vehemently.

“Are you gonna let me in or am I gonna spend the night out here and freeze a la Jack Torrance?” Richie asks.

“You aren’t funny,” Eddie snaps. “Like. The least funny person I’ve ever met.”

Richie sighs, long and dramatic, like he’s being extremely put out. “You could insult my comedic timing while I’m inside your apartment, warm and not freezing and drinking a cup of coffee. Just a suggestion.”

Eddie steps to the side. “Jesus Christ. You invite yourself over to my house. You offer yourself a cup of coffee. What a courteous guest.”

“I’m a delight and you fucking know it,” Richie drawls as he steps into the apartment. Eddie closes the door firmly behind him, locking it for good measure. There’s already a puddle forming underneath Richie’s shoes from melted snow.

“Take off your shoes and your jacket, you’re fucking soaked,” Eddie mutters. “I’ll go find you a hoodie or something to warm you up, we can throw your clothes in the dryer. You’re mopping my floor after this.”

Richie starts to shrug off his flannel jacket, waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously. “Gee, Eds, if you wanted me to strip, all you had to do is ask.”

“To put on new clothes,” Eddie stresses.

“Dunno, dude, all I heard was take all of your clothes off,” Richie says lecherously.

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant. You’re being deliberately obtuse.”

Richie toes his shoes off and picks them up, placing them on the empty spot next to Eddie’s on the rack right by the door. “First of all, I’m never deliberately anything,” Richie insists.

Eddie groans in exasperation and storms into his room, grabbing a hoodie from the top of his laundry pile that he’s pretty sure belongs to Richie anyway. “Why are you like this?” he mutters, mostly under his breath. Richie probably wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t trailed behind Eddie, following him into the bedroom.

“Like what?” Richie demands, leaning against the doorway to Eddie’s bedroom like it’s the most comfortable place he could be. Eddie feels a little hot under the collar, so he turns sharply on his heel again and goes back to digging through his laundry.

“All—all,” Eddie stammers, flustered for some reason he can’t identify. He squeezes his eyes shut; one of his hands flutters uselessly in the air as he tries to explain his point. “All vulgar and teasing and—and, I don’t know, all flirty!”

“Uh,” Richie says, drawing out the word. There’s a genuine pinch in his brow when Eddie turns to glance at him. “Because… I’m flirting with you?”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat. His face feels flushed, his skin feels hot, his chest feels tight—there’s this desperately stupid part of him that’s fighting to be hopeful against the painfully realistic part of him that knows he should know better. He looks away. “Don’t say shit like that, Richie.”

“Why not?”

“Because it fucking hurts me, Richie, Jesus!” Eddie bursts out. He stands quickly and chucks the hoodie at Richie’s head. “This is what I mean! You’re deliberately obtuse! It hurts, Richie, it feels like you’re teasing me and I don’t like it!”

Richie’s expression is wounded. Eddie sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of it. “You don’t like it when I flirt with you,” he repeats.

“No!” Eddie says, exhausted in a way he can’t articulate. He doesn’t say, not when it isn’t real, like he wants to, but the words are right there on the tip of his tongue.

“Jee-zus, Eds, you really know how to kick a guy when he’s down,” Richie snaps back. “I didn’t realize that the mere thought of me flirting with you was so offensive it actually hurt you to know I thought I might have a chance. But you know what, dude? Fuck you. I’m not going to apologize for this. Not anymore.”

Eddie blinks, startled, suddenly, by the way the conversation has turned. He feels like he missed a step somewhere, or maybe like he blacked out and the conversation continued on without him. “Wait. What?”

Richie scoffs. “Oh, now who’s being deliberately obtuse?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Eddie demands. “What do you mean you thought you had a chance?”

Richie makes an incredulous sound. He waves his arms in the air like that explains anything, an action that’s inhibited by the fact he’s holding onto a hoodie, but nothing about this situation feels comical. “What the fuck do you think I meant?” Richie asks. “What the fuck is happening?”

Realization spreads through Eddie’s veins, straightening his spine as it dawns on him what must be happening here. He can’t believe it, if it’s true; can’t believe how blind they’ve both been, and how blind they’re still being right now. Perhaps there was an air of truth in his earlier statement, maybe both of them have been deliberately obtuse. Especially if this is what they could have had the whole time.

“You were flirting with me,” Eddie says slowly. “And you meant it?”

“And it’s the most heinous thing I could have done to you, I get it, oh my god!” Richie grumbles. “I drove here in the middle of a fucking snowstorm so you wouldn’t be alone, Eddie! I don’t know what I could have done to make it more obvious! I guess I could have paid for a neon sign over my head, but that felt a bit excessive. You know, you could have told me sooner that what I was doing was so gross you couldn’t even think about it, so that’s a little on you—”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Eddie shouts. “Do you ever stop talking? If you’d calm the fuck down for three seconds then you’d hear me say—”

“Say what?” Richie interrupts, because he never stops fucking talking, and Eddie isn’t even thinking before his legs are carrying him across the floor and his arms are reaching up and his hands are cupping Richie’s face and every part of him is curving against the perfect line of Richie’s body as he tugs Richie down into a kiss. It’s thoughtless, almost instinctive, and they match up perfectly even with those infuriating three or four inches of height that Richie’s got on him. They match up perfectly.

It’s the best way to get Richie to shut up, apparently, because he gets with the program a lot sooner than Eddie had expected him too and puts his hands on Eddie’s hips to tug him closer. It’s messy in a lot of ways that Eddie never daydreamed their first kiss would be like; Richie’s a little too eager and Eddie a little too desperate, but despite it all it’s the most perfect first kiss Eddie’s ever had. Richie’s thumb presses against his hipbone and Eddie tilts up on his toes to deepen the kiss and he can feel the rumble of Richie’s chest against his own when Richie groans.

“Got anything you want to say now?” Eddie asks, when he finally pulls away for long enough to catch his breath. Richie’s forehead is pressed against his and their breaths mingle as they both pant and, honestly, it should be disgusting but Eddie feels high off of it. He’s intoxicated by the way RIchie’s jawline feels underneath his hands, drunk on the way Richie’s body moves against his, desperate to familiarize himself with the hungry, easy way that Richie kisses. He wants more, more, more, in a way he never quite has before. It should scare him.

“Oh, so you get to flirt?” Richie asks.

It should scare him. But Eddie just hauls Richie down for another kiss and decides there are some things that aren’t worth the worry.

#theparadigmshifts #my writing #reddie #richie #eddie #second times a charm??????#i hope #anyway kris. i love u. i'd die for you.#no hesitation #i rly do hope this makes sense tho #if this formats wrong again :) tumblr staff its on site

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charlienick · 5 years

Note

hi and i love u. "i swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth" for the prompts....

Richie has decided that his dream-self can get fucked. And not in the fun way.

When he’s 24, at least once per night, Richie has what he would describe as an erotic nightmare. He never actually has sex in these dreams, nor does he die or even get seriously maimed. But they’re still definitely erotic, and they’re definitely nightmares.

The first went something like this:

He is tied to a chair. He can’t get up. The rope is chafing his skin. He struggles against the darkness, but he does not move. He can’t. Squinting out into the inky black, he wonders if he’s wearing his glasses. It’s only once he has that thought that he sees a spotlight lighting up his childhood kitchen. His refrigerator has magnets from Acadia National Park, a photo of him and Bill flipping off the camera and laughing, a copy of his sonogram. The sight of it makes him ache in a way he can’t describe, nor does he have time to, because stepping out of the hallway and into the light is his childhood best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie is wearing a cream-colored sweater that he wore a lot in his late-teens and the bright red shorts he was so fond of in middle school. It’s a jarring combination, because Richie never saw him wear those two articles of clothing at the same time, let alone in the same era. He’s picking at a thread spinning loose from the sweater, looking down at it. He bites his bottom lip, and Richie starts to feel nervous, uncomfortable, because whenever he finds himself wishing Eddie were a woman so that it would feel normal for him to want to take his lip between his own, he looks away. Makes a joke. Averts attention from the ache in his heart, in his head, in his jeans.

He can’t do that now. He tries, but he doesn’t succeed. There’s something invisible keeping his head pointed forward. Eddie snaps his eyes up, smirks with the lip still caught in his teeth, and says… something. Richie can’t hear him from so far away, his hearing fuzzy the way his vision always is. The smirk isn’t cruel, isn’t mean or even teasing. Eddie looks proud of himself. He shucks off his sweater in one fluid movement and drops it to the linoleum beneath him. His skin shines golden, and Richie can hardly breathe. He feels like he’s being asphyxiated, and he bucks his hips, turned on and terrified.

And then he wakes up.

Dreams like this have happened almost nightly for months now. Once, it’s Eddie giving him a lap dance while he’s tied to the couch in their apartment. Another time, Bev catches Eddie stripping for him in his bedroom, and her laughter echoes all the way into the waking world. Regardless of the content of his dreams, Richie always remembers them in painstaking detail, and it’s really causing a rift between he and Eddie.

This sucks major donkey dick for three reasons: the first is that Richie is, like, deeply uncomfortable in his own home at all times. He can’t look at Eddie with his feet propped up on the ottoman without remembering how his legs looked wrapped around Richie’s waist, can’t hear his voice without remembering how he sounded moaning Richie’s name. The second reason, of course, is that Eddie is his best friend, and it’s shitty that Richie can’t find comfort in that the way he used to.

The third reason is that Eddie is starting to fucking notice.

He cornered Richie in the kitchen while he was making himself breakfast two mornings ago, and demanded he tell him what he did wrong because he couldn’t stand another weird, uncomfortable second of this weird standstill he and Richie had found themselves in. “What weird, uncomfortable standstill?” Richie had basically responded with, chuckling manically like that wouldn’t be a total tip-off that things were in fact weird and uncomfortable.

He has stopped walking around in his boxers, terrified that he’s going to get a hard-on when Eddie, like, waters the fucking spider plant and his shirt rides up and Richie short-circuits and has a total meltdown.

So he figures he’s attracted to his best friend. So what, he says to himself alone in his bedroom after jacking off the moment he woke up for the fifth day in a row. So I’m attracted to Eddie. Eddie is a pretty boy. This means nothing. I’m still straight.

He considers bringing this up to Stan, because next to Eddie, Stan is his best friend, but Stan would definitely laugh at him and say something like you’re an idiot. Go kiss your roommate and leave me be, which, okay, true, but not necessary. He knows, Brain-Stan! He’s aware the situation is reaching its boiling point! But he can’t exactly fucking tell Eddie, hey, I wanna suck your dick, but no homo, O best friend of mine! Eddie wouldn’t understand that the situation is precariously balanced between Richie’s suppression and the knowledge that Eddie has definitely sucked dick before.

Because Eddie was able to come out after he and the Losers moved from Maine to San Francisco, he has caught some dick regularly for the past six years. He’s pretty, as Richie’s head, heart, and apparently now dick all agree upon, and the four or so men he has in rotation all seem to think so, too. When Eddie would bring home a suitor prior to Richie’s epic sexual breakdown, he would just scamper over to Bev and Ben’s, or go bother Stan, Mike, and Bill at theirs. Now however, because on top of being attracted to his best friend, he’s also a goddamn masochist, and he’s staying holed up in his room listening to Eddie get fucked (or fuck? He isn’t certain on the makeup of his screwings, though not for lack of trying), one hand stripping his dick, feeling like a total and complete asshole.

Richie knows that one’s sexuality is not always privy to one’s knowledge of whether or not the person would be interested in bedding him or not, and his wild imagination is not totally hinged upon reality. Bev and Ben would definitely not tie him up and have their way with him, but that’s still a familiar fantasy in his spank bank; he knows it will never happen, but it’s called a fantasy for a reason. However, jacking off to the sound of actual-Eddie’s moans and sighs is definitely crossing a line, and he knows it.

So since that one fated, sordid evening, he has decided that he isn’t going to jack off at all until either the dreams stop or he’s able to talk this out with Eddie in a normal way without totally having a mental breakdown.

This was a stupid decision, he decides ten days in, because it seems like the dreams aren’t going to stop and he’s going to have to face this for real or his subconscious might actually eat him alive. He’s not going to give into his libido because his heart is stronger than that. His weak willpower will not be his downfall.

So he decides to talk to Ben, because he’s the least likely to make fun of him about this, and because he might be able to knock some sense into him.

“Wait, you and Eddie aren’t making love already?” Ben’s face screws up in confusion. “Oh.”

“What do you mean, oh? We haven’t ever knocked boots because I’m straight as an arrow.”

“Sorry to inform you, Rich, but having… ‘erotic nightmares’ about your male best friend isn’t exactly heterosexual behavior.” Richie goes to cut in, but Ben holds a hand up. “And what would be so wrong with liking boys? Or liking Eddie?” Richie snaps his mouth shut. “Eddie is the best. You love Eddie as a friend, right?”

“Totally, yeah, I mean, yeah!” Richie rambles, nodding violently.

Ben smiles patiently, “So what would be so bad about loving him all the way?”

“I… I didn’t know… I mean, I’ve had sex with girls. It just doesn’t light a fire under my dick the same way this seems to. He’s so pretty, and I don’t quite know how to go back to seeing him the way I used to now that I see him so clearly. It’s like I’ve been looking at him without my glasses on my whole life, and now everything is so much less fuzzy. Like I understand it better now.” His eyes widen as the silence stretches on, Ben smiling softly the whole time. “I mean, uh, you know, he could hop on my dick and I wouldn’t say no. Then I’d have fucked the whole Kaspbrak clan.”

Ben’s nose wrinkles in distaste, so he doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he says, “Tell him, Richie. I promise it won’t go badly.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to fuck me back?”

“You really think all this is is sex, Richie?” Ben asks quietly. He offers him another smile, an encouraging one this time, “And I already promised—it won’t go badly.”

So Richie decides, fuck it. He’ll tell Eddie tomorrow.

But then he wakes up in a cold sweat from tonight’s newest erotic nightmare, this time leaning more heavily on the nightmarish aspect than the erotic, and he decides tomorrow can’t wait. Tonight. He’s doing this right now, because he can’t stand another moment not being close to Eddie.

He puts on his glasses, pads out of his room and knocks softly on Eddie’s door. “Eds? You up?” Silence. He knocks a bit harder. “Eddie?” He hears Eddie sniff harshly from inside his room, and something knocks loudly. “Eds? You okay?”

“Mmph,” comes Eddie’s muffled reply. “Come in, you dick.”

Richie smiles and does as he’s told. He can see Eddie relatively clearly through the slats in the blinds open to the moon high above them. He’s rubbing the side of his head, his hair a total mess, his shirt rumpled, his frown intense, and Richie realizes, fuck, I love this angry little goblin. Jesus Christ, I love him.

“Hitting your head on the headboard is way less fun when you’re by yourself,” he grumbles. He wraps an arm around his knees and tilts his head. “What’s up at… 3:50 AM?”

“I…” Richie breathes out unsteadily. He decides to go with the truth: “I had a nightmare.”

“Oh. Shit,” Eddie frowns, pulling back the blankets. “You wanna cuddle?”

Richie nods dramatically and pitches himself into Eddie’s bed, immediately wrapping himself around Eddie. Eddie snorts, laughs quietly, and turns in Richie’s hold, slotting their thighs together so they’re facing one another. “Dick. You know I don’t like to be the little spoon, ‘specially with you and your newborn-deer limbs.”

“Can’t you make an exception just this once, Spaghetti?” Richie smiles, but he’s really only teasing; he’s just fine with this.

“So long as you tell me what the dream was about.” Richie tenses in Eddie’s hold, thinking, shit, I really should’ve assumed he’d ask. “I mean, if you want. But until you tell me, I demand to be the big spoon.”

Richie sighs, turning in Eddie’s hold only because it’ll be easier to say it if he isn’t looking right at him. “So I’ve been having these… we’ll call them erotic nightmares.”

“That sounds like a term you thought of weeks ago and are very proud to finally get the chance to utter.”

“Die.” Eddie snorts. “Actually, don’t-don’t do that,” Richie whispers, “please don’t die.”

“I won’t,” Eddie says, sounding like he’s about to laugh but trying not to. “Was that what the dream was about tonight? Is that why you’ve been acting so weird lately?”

“Sort of, yeah. You were, uh, you were on top of me, and you… I didn’t even see it coming. Your heart, it was… I don’t even think it could ever happen in real life.”

Eddie slips a hand beneath Richie’s shirt, cupping his hip bone and rhythmically running his thumb in the hollow between it and his stomach. “It didn’t happen, Rich. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Richie breathes out, less shaky this time, and nods. “Okay.”

A long pause, and then, “You said these nightmares, they’re erotic.” Richie’s blood runs cold. Fuck, he didn’t want this to be how he said it. “Is that why I was on top of you?”

“Sort of,” Richie whispers. “Yeah.”

“Like… Like this?” Eddie dislodges his thigh out from between Richie’s and hooks it over his hips, forcing him to lay flat on the bed. Eddie hovers over him, eyes dark and electric in the moonlight. He looks ethereal, holy, and nothing like he did in the dream. “What happens next? When I’m above you like this?”

“It’s different every time,” Richie says all in one breath. Eddie’s boxer shorts are hanging and brushing against the tops of Richie’s thighs. He feels a light breeze away from spontaneously combusting. “Sometimes you dance for me.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, laughing quietly, “I can’t dance.”

“I know that, but my dreams don’t.” Eddie smile drops in an instant.

“What else?”

“Sometimes you hold me down⁠—”

Richie cuts himself off with a gasp when Eddie nudges Richie’s hands out from where they’re balled in Eddie’s sheets and presses them down to the bed beside his head. “Like this?” Richie chokes, nodding. He can’t say anything. He can hardly breathe. “What’s next, Richie?”

“You-you grind on me ‘til you—oh, holy shit.” Eddie swivels his hips in a tight circle against Richie’s dick, both of them already hard.

“Yeah? You been dreamin’ of me like this, Rich? How long?”

“What?”

“How long,” he grinds down low, and Richie moans, “have you,” he does it again, and Richie gasps, keening loudly, “been dreaming of me? Because I’ve been dreaming of you for years, Rich.”

“Motherfucking tap-dancing Jesus, you have?” Richie demands.

“Of course I have. Sometimes, when I bring a boy home, I pretend he’s you.”

“Oh my God.”

“Sometimes I accidentally say your name.”

Richie bucks his hips, feeling wild, caged. “Eddie, please, I need—”

“What do you want, Rich? I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Kiss me.” And he does. It’s everything and nothing like Richie dreamed it would be. It’s hot, searing, Eddie’s mouth a brand against his own, but the way Eddie is licking into his mouth feels nothing like he dreamed it would. It feels like he just wants to take care of Richie; he really wants to give Richie everything he asks for, and Richie feels drunk with the power-rush that brings. Beautiful, perfect, wonderful Eddie Kaspbrak wants to give him what he asks.

“Eddie,” he pants, and Eddie immediately pulls away, eyes liquid as they rake over Richie’s chest, still covered in his shirt. The light weight of it is suddenly stifling. “Please take off my shirt.”

“Of course, baby,” Eddie murmurs, unlocking their fingers and helping Richie sit up so he can do as he’s asked. “That better, angel?”

“Oh my God,” Richie whines, nodding. “This is so hot.”

Eddie smiles, “I agree. You’re definitely as beautiful as I dreamed you’d be.”

“You dreamed about me, too?” Richie sighs, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the thought of Eddie stripping his dick to the girls Richie’s brought home.

“Of course, Richie,” Eddie responds, hushed as he maps out Richie’s torso with the palms of his hands. One of his thumbs catches on Richie’s nipple, and he hisses, then gasps when he does it again. “Sometimes it’s sex dreams, like yours, but sometimes I dream you take me out to eat, or to the movies. Once, I dreamed you asked me to marry you and I woke up crying.”

“Eddie,” Richie says, all broken into pieces, jagged edges that sound serrated. “I would. You know I would, right?”

Eddie smiles softly, leaning over Richie and lacing their fingers back together, but the weight of Eddie on top of him doesn’t feel so suppressive anymore. It’s a comfort. It’s everything he could never admit to wanting. “I do now.”

He captures Richie’s mouth again, kisses that fall over him like stars, like meteorites, planets exploding behind his eyelids and pop rocks fizzing in his blood. He’s a shaking mess by the time Eddie pulls back again, kissing his neck and then sucking a mark into his collarbone, to his pulse point. He feels ready to burst, nearing absolute explosion.

“I want to fuck you, Richie,” Eddie says against his skin, and Richie moans to the ceiling, eyes rolling back in his head. “I want to fuck you, but I need to know this isn’t a one time thing. I won’t be my best friend’s sexual experiment, and I won’t be your fuck buddy. I can’t.”

“Eddie, I… look at me, please look at me,” Richie begs, unlacing their fingers and cupping Eddie’s cheeks. He looks terrified, ready to work himself into a panic attack, so Richie says, “I want to fuck you too, but more than that, I want to fuck your heart.”

Eddie snorts and goes boneless, his forehead knocking into Richie’s chin. “I hate you so much. I can’t believe you just said you want to fuck my heart, that’s so gross, what does that even mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” Richie says, proud that he managed to distract Eddie from the burgeoning panic. “I want to fuck your heart.”

“No, I want to fuck your heart,” Eddie shoots back, frowning intensely. Richie’s responding smile is blinding.

“We’re heart-switches.”

“This is the worst day of my life.”

“Sure, Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds in bed! I’m outlawing all nicknames when we’re hard, it’s uncouth!”

“What about…” Richie runs the tip of his nose over the thin skin of Eddie’s neck, “baby?”

“Oh,” Eddie sighs, elbows buckling where he’s holding himself over top of Richie, “baby’s good.”

“Yeah?” Richie smiles, hooking his hands up under Eddie’s shirt and bunching it under his arms. “What about angel, my love, is that one okay?”

“This isn’t fair,” Eddie whines, falling down to his elbows and crushing Richie as he laughs, “you can’t use my weak heart against me.”

“Weak?” Richie smiles against Eddie’s skin, feeling more at home than he ever has in his life. “Nah. I think you’re the strongest person I know.”

“Richie…” Eddie smiles, embarrassed, and leans up to kiss him again, which is fine with Richie, because he’s embarrassed, too. Thank god for erotic nightmares, Richie thinks as he cups Eddie’s hip and licks into his mouth, finally free, finally alive.

#ask #michelllejones #richie tozier #reddie #it chapter two #what is this!!!!!#masterpost #greatest hits

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fourteendaysinaweek · 4 years

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Show Recommendations

Grimm

Platform: Amazon Prime

Official overview: Portland detective Nick Burkhardt, descended from a long line of warriors known as Grimms, defends his city from magical creatures known as Wesen, which are part human and part animal. Fighting alongside his partner, Hank, colleague Sergeant Wu and friends Monroe and Rosalee, Nick faces off against internal and external forces, including his police captain, Sean Renard.

My overview: Portland detective Nick Burkhardt thinks he's going insane when he randomly starts seeing monsters at the time his aunt goes into a coma. Turns out he's not, in fact, going crazy. He deals with shit trying to kill him and his girlfriend and friends CONSTANTLY and in reality all he wants to do his keep his city safe, and he accidentally saves the world in the process.

Thoughts on the show: I love it, it does have a habit of setting up for recurring characters and then never mentioning them again, so that's annoying. There are 6 seasons. There are some great romances in the show, and also some iffy ones, but the iffy ones are definitely regarded as such in the show, and eventually either develop past the weird stage or die before anymore harm can be done. Aired from 2011 to 2017

Thoughts on the fandom: Wayyyy too small, I know of 0 people around my age who like it, and 90% of the fan base is obsessed with Sasha Roiz who plays Sean Renard (not that I'm judging). Definitely not enough fics out there, and the ones that I've found seem to be poorly written or basically just pwp.

Warehouse 13

Platform: Amazon Prime

Official overview: Following an abrupt transfer, Secret Service agents Pete Lattimer and Myka Bering find themselves in the middle of South Dakota at a massive, top-secret storage warehouse that holds every strange artifact, mysterious relic, out-of-this-world object and supernatural souvenir ever found by the U.S. government. Lattimer and Bering's new task, as directed by the warehouse's caretaker, longtime agent Artie Nielsen, is to investigate reports of unexplainable and paranormal activity in an effort to secure more peculiar and dangerous objects, and to help Artie manage the warehouse itself.

My overview: imagine the TARDIS except it's a warehouse and not a police box (bigger on the inside) and it's full of cursed objects to be kept there so it doesn't destroy the world.

Thoughts on the show: I love it. It accurately depicts trauma and has decent representation such as a black woman everyone is intimidated by because she's the boss, a gay man who isn't sexualized and has development and a personality other than "gay". There is even an incredibly homoerotic friendship between two women that the actress of said women played up because they wanted their characters together, even if one turned out to be not-so-good. The show deals with sexism and victims of neglect. You'll learn a lot of random history while watching the show as all of the artifacts tend to be historically based (the guillotine blade that cut of Marie Antoinette's head, for instance). There are 5 seasons and I'm s3 or 4. Apparently the show does something weird with Pete and Myka at the end, which probably means they get together. Ran 2009 to 2014.

Thoughts on the fandom: again, way too small, although a lot bigger than Grimm. There are quite a few fics out there, mainly for the two women which I ship with my whole heart. There might be some controversy with Eddie McClintock (Pete Lattimer) but I'm not very well-versed in it. I wish Grimm's fandom was as big as W13's.

The Umbrella Academy

Platform: Netflix

Official overview: On one day in 1989, 43 infants are inexplicably born to random, unconnected women who showed no signs of pregnancy the day before. Seven are adopted by billionaire industrialist Sir Reginald Hargreeves, who creates the Umbrella Academy and prepares his "children" to save the world. In their teenage years, though, the family fractures and the team disbands. Fast forward to the present time, when the six surviving members of the clan reunite upon the news of Hargreeves' passing. They work together to solve a mystery surrounding their father's death, but divergent personalities and abilities again pull the estranged family apart, and a global apocalypse is another imminent threat. The series is based on a collection of comics and graphic novels created and written by My Chemical Romance lead singer Gerard Way.

My overview: adult survivors of abuse with increasingly weird/out-there superpowers due to the weird circumstances of their birth come together to celebrate *cough* I mean mourn the passing of their "father" And accidentally cause the apocalypse.

Thoughts on the show: I love it. I've finished season 2,currenfly there are only 2 seasons, it's still in progress, I love it. I'm sure most of you have already watched it because what is the supernatural fandom if not emo? Also a good one for representation. Mexican man with a stutter, black woman with a daughter she is in a custody battle for, gay druggie veteran, Ellen Page, Asian ghost boy, 58 year old man in a 13 year old's body, and a half-chimp man.

Thoughts on the fandom: big. Big big big. Haven't found any fics that cater to my specific wants in a fic, but there are fics. Some of them have weird pairings, but since the show made two (adopted) siblings canon, I can't exactly blame them.

Lost Girl

Platform: I actually have no idea

Official overview: Bo is a small-town girl on the run after a disastrous sexual encounter with her boyfriend ends with his death. Bo learns that she is not human, but a succubus, who feeds on the sexual energy of humans. She and her kind are members of the Fae, creatures of legend, who walk among humans and feed off them in different ways. As she searches for the truth about her origins and runs from her inhuman urges, she vows to help those she meets along the way -- human or Fae -- who need to right a wrong.

My overview: bisexual woman finds out she's a succubus and she has to choose to be either good Fae or bad Fae (I think it's light vs dark but it's been a Hot Minute) she has a thing with a werewolf and also a thing with a Fae doctor who is human and a woman.

Thoughts on the show: it's good, 5 seasons, don't think I've finished the first season. Back when I started watching it it was on Netflix and has since been removed. It's on Vudo but it costs money which is bullshit. It's a little weird at first, but I like it. Ran 2010 to 2015.

Thoughts on the fandom: have not interacted with the fandom for fear of spoilers. I'd imagine this show's fandom is about the size of Grimm.

Being Human (USA version)

Platform: again, I don't know.

Official overview: "Being Human," based on a BBC series of the same name, features three 20-something roommates who each try to keep a secret from the rest of the world -- one is a ghost, another is a vampire and the third is a werewolf. The three roomies try to help one another navigate the complexities of living double lives.

My overview: again, weird starts off in almost the middle of the story. It deals with abuse, death, fighting urges, dealing with past sins, and, well, being human. The characters are Sally (Ghost) Aidan (vampire) and Josh (werewolf). The three of them are trying to live like normal, Aidan and Josh as workers at the local hospital as Sally works to deal with her death.

Thoughts on the show: I love it I just wish I could find it on a reliable site, again, it's on Vudo but it costs money. It definitely had the set up for a good mlm relationship but from what I've gathered they end up forcing heterosexuality.

Thoughts on the fandom: again, too small, roughly the size of Grimm. I have seen 0 fics.

The Librarians

Platform: Hulu I do so believe

Official overview: Cued by TNT's popular 'The Librarian' trilogy, this series introduces new members of an ancient group protecting mystical artefacts. Hidden below the Metropolitan Public Library, the secret society's longtime leader is Flynn Carsen, whose job has become very complicated. To help, the Library recruits Eve, a counterterrorism agent responsible for organizational security; Jacob, who has encyclopedic knowledge of art, architecture and history; Cassandra, who links auditory/sensory hallucinations to memory; and Ezekiel, a skilled thief and master technician. Overseeing them is Jenkins, the reclusive caretaker of the Library's sleepy little outpost in Oregon. Noah Wyle executive produces and recurs as Flynn, the role he played in the movie series.

My overview: very similar to W13. This time imagine the Bunker, and the Warehouse, and boom, you've got the Library.

Thoughts on the show: good! I love it, I just found out it was on Hulu and am going to be binging it as soon as I finish Grimm and Warehouse. I'd love to see a crossover between W13 and The Librarians I feel like they'd have a feud.

Thoughts on the fandom: probably the same size as W13 if not bigger as the series came from movies. Again, haven't finished the series so I haven't interacted with the fandom.

Eureka

Platform: Amazon Prime

Official overview: In the years since World War II, the U.S. government has been relocating the world's geniuses (and their families) to the Pacific Northwest town of Eureka. Daily life there shifts between amazing innovation and total chaos. U.S. Marshal Jack Carter learns this first-hand when his car breaks down in Eureka, stranding him among the town's eccentric citizens. When they unleash a scientific creation still unknown to the outside world, it's up to Carter to restore order. Subsequently, he's let in on one of America's best-kept secrets.

My overview: a small town but make every person a genius. Has some crossover with Warehouse 13, they exist in the same universe.

Thoughts on the show: I love it so far. Just the kind of weird shit I enjoy.

Thoughts on the fandom: I'd imagine about the size of Warehouse 13's but I've yet to interact considering I'm still in season 1.

#show recommendations #show recs

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strongsassysexysloane · 4 years

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Ain’t Life A B*tch - Chap 6

When you’re trapped in a hospital bed and people keep visiting while you are on heavy pain medication.. what truths will come out? And will you remember it at all..

. . . . / 6 / . . . .

"SWAT is fifteen minutes out." Ben walks up to Jack who is biting her thumbnail and pacing back and forth behind the police cars. "We are breaching from the south wall. Think you can get a message across to y/n without alerting Jake?" He wasn't even going to try and take the lead from Jack now. Sure, he was miffed that she'd shown up but clearly, she needed to be here. Whether it be for your sake or hers.

Jack didn't like the full force idea but having you possibly down and out of the game with no hope of a van coming in soon or being able to negotiate further, this was the only option. She just had to accept that. She nodded in response; she couldn't speak right now. Emotions were bubbling close to the surface and she was afraid if she spoke, she would choke and not get anything out.

"Do you think she's the one that was shot?" Eddie was on the verge of tears and Jack tried to give her a reassuring smile, anything, but it failed. She was trying to figure out how to get the message across while trying not to fully break down herself. She had so much to tell you, to talk to you about but she'd been too scared and angry with you to do it. And now that you might-

No, you can't think like that, Jacqueline.

Jack looked back at the building where you were possibly bleeding inside and took in a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back, building up her strength and gaining confidence in what she was about to do.

"She's going to be fine Alex." Ben assured his younger partner.

Jack did her best to brush off the worst-case scenarios, squishing down all the demons that were snickering at her. This was about to be all over soon. So she picked up the megaphone once more because there was a job to be done and she'd done this fifty times before so she could do it again. "Jake. Hey!"

....

Hearing her voice made you smile for a split second, even laugh at the anger in her tone. Laugh because you knew that rage and have been on the receiving end of it more than once, it wasn't a place any person wanted to be but this time it wasn't directed at you. It was directed at the asshole a few steps away from you. She didn't know you weren't the one injured and you knew that would spur her on even more. You almost felt sorry for Jake, almost.

Jake stormed back over to the window. "My van better be here or we aren't talking!" He screamed back at her.

"You won't be getting anything unless I can talk to or see Agent Y/n." She was playing a dangerous game but her logical brain wasn't working right now, she would only function properly again if she saw you or heard you.

You looked up at Jake to see him glaring down at you. His eyes darted between the window and you. He was having an inner debate; you could spot that anywhere. "It's your only chance."

"Get up."

You hesitate for a moment looking down at Sully, his body limp under your pressure. You were fairly certain the bullet hadn't hit anything major or he'd be dead by now. He was close to it as you watch him go in and out of consciousness. "Need one of the others to hold pressure on his wound otherwise I'm not moving."

He hit one of the hostages beside him on the arm after contemplating your demand. "Get down there before I change my mind."

You exchanged quick words to the man on how to hold the pressure on the wound and try and keep Sully awake as much as possible. Reaching for the chair beside you, you pulled yourself up. It had been too long in an uncomfortable position crouched over Sully that your legs had begun to go to sleep which you hadn't noticed until now. You shake it off as you make your way over to Jake, unsure if you are wobbling from the sensation or the gravity of the situation.

"Don't try anything." He warned as you stepped up to the window and pulled back the blinds. You feel Jake move behind you, the gun pressed firmly in your back, against your lower spine. "I'm in a trigger-happy mood." He breathed close behind your ear and you hold back the urge to shiver and elbow him in the stomach. He’d sooner make you paralyzed the moment you try and fight him.

Clearing your throat, trying your best to keep your voice level and somewhat calm with a gun in your back you make an attempt to shout at Jack through the gap in the window. "Agent Sloane. Nice to see you."

You wouldn’t be in this situation if you'd just stayed as an Agent Afloat like you wanted.

"Likewise. You hurt?" A surge of relief flooding through her once she heard your voice and caught a glimpse of you through the blinds.

You could see her just barely behind the police car with Ben and Alex by her side surrounded by Metro. "No, I'm fine, Jack." The gun shifts against your back. "Jake shot another hostage. He's not doing-"

Jake pushed his gun deeper into your back. "We aren't here for chit chat. Get me my van." He cautioned, pulling back his gun slightly. “You might even save the hero’s life.”

"The van?"

"Ten minutes. There's a wall of traffic southbound so it's going to take a bit longer."

Something was off with her words, such a strange way to tell you that information and you knew she was trying to tell you something because the time frame would've been more than enough. You didn't want to give the assailant more information than necessary so what was so important in those words? "Ten minutes." You repeat and Jake shoves you away from the window.

"If it isn't here in ten minutes, she's next." He roared. "Jack."

The snide way he said her name had your insides tighten and your instincts wanted to punch the living daylights out of him for not just saying her name but in that way. You hoped when this was all over you got the chance to rip into this S.O.B.

The next ten minutes were all a blur to you and something you wouldn't fully remember later. Sully was unconscious and you knew he needed help immediately. But Jack's words were swirling around in your head.

'There's a wall of traffic southbound?' You repeated it over and over.

You knew it was pushing time limits with a hostage situation. He'd already injured one hostage and close to shooting another so they had to make a move soon. Especially if they were promising ten minutes. They had to have a plan. Then it clicked, like a light bulb going off and not a moment too soon. It wasn't perfect and didn't go at all in your favour.

"Get down!" You yelled just before the explosion went off with you still crouched over Sully, shielding him from the blast as you didn't have time to move further away from the wall. Thankfully Jake was knocked off his feet and the SWAT came in closely followed by your agents and Jack. The smoke was thick, voices yelling and you were fighting to stay awake. Your ears were ringing and a blinding pain to the back of your head and sides.

"Y/n!" Jack shouted, holding in tears as she searched through the smoke and rubble, praying you were ok and got out of the way in time. Her hopes were dashed when you found you limp on the floor, covered in rubble and struggling to stay awake.

You heard her voice but it seems like she was miles away and that's when you realised you'd been knocked down and hit your head on something. The blinding pain making it hard for you to think and that only frustrated you more. You only want to get up and take down Jake. Maybe give him a few punches to the face and blame it on the explosion. Hopefully Ben was giving it to him as you knew Jack and Alex would come straight for you.

"Y/n!" Her voice was ringing in your ears but your eyelids were heavy and then there was black. You wanted to yell at her for being here, for putting herself in harm's way but your head kept pounding and the struggle was too heavy to open your eyes. The weight was over powering and the emotions from the high stress hostage situation succumbed you.

The light shining in your eyes was blinding, you shake your head to get away but something was stilling your movements, pressure on either side of your head. "Agent, please stay still. You're in the ambulance. You're on the way to the hospital." The paramedic tried to calm you; the light went away but the panic was setting in. Your head was pounding and you needed to know what happened at the scene. It was all a spotty memory name.

"I need to go back, I need to see if my Agents are ok, I need to see Sully." The hands that were stilling your head from moving were now holding your shoulders down. You pushed harder to get up but it was no use. Your strength wasn't there and the paramedic was strong.

"Y/n, listen to the paramedics, please." Her voice was soft but firm, mixed with concern and annoyance. It always amazed you how she could say so much in her tone. You instantly stopped moving. Not from her words, no, from her presence. The shock was evident on your face, you flinched from the sharp pain when you moved your head to see her but she was out of your view. You moved your hand up and touched your head where the pain came from but there was a bandage covering the spot. "Debris from the breach hit you. I tried to tell you to get up the other end!"

"Didn't give me much time. I was too preoccupied with keeping Sully alive to figure out your riddles, Sloane." If you weren't already in enough pain, you would've flinched at how short and venomous your words sounded. You didn't mean for it to come out like that, you were thankful she was there but also very confused to why she came.

The rest of the ambulance trip was set in silence. The paramedics checked you over, but now that you were awake, they were less stressed about the possibility of brain damage, swelling. Once at the hospital you were taken for numerous tests, scans, to make sure your brain was still intact. You made a joke to one of the nurses but it didn't seem to be funny. They'd probably heard it to many times before but you didn't care. You needed the lightness right now, otherwise you would have to think about Sully, Jake and what the hell went so wrong?!

While you were rushed in for scans and any other tests the doctor wanted, Jack was left in emergency to annoy the nurses while you were gone. You were fighting sleep when they rolled your bed into a room for the night or probably more if the Doctor Shelley had anything to say about it. Just as soon as the doctor followed by the nurse that Jack came barging in, a steaming cup of coffee in her fingers

"You still here?"

She took a sip of her brew before responding. "Had to check in." She walked up to the foot of your bed, resting a hand on the frame of your bed. "Update everyone on your condition."

"My condition is pissed off, Jack and can't go anywhere."

"Lucky for your team, then."

"You got an update for me?"

"Yeah, rest. Your team's got it covered."

You tried to shift into a more sitting position but the sharp pains stopped your movements. "Jake?"

"Being charged as we speak."

That was somewhat comforting even though you wanted to talk to him yourself, that wasn't going to be possible anytime soon, not in your condition. You sink back into the very flimsy hospital pillows, staring at the ceiling. "Go home, Jack."

She looked down at her watch with a smirk. "It's only 1400."

"Ok, go back to work." You weren't in the right place to have a normal, past forgotten, conversation with her right now. There were too many things swimming around in your head and one was the hammering headache you had.

"Someone needs to stay and stop you from leaving."

"Where am I going to run off to? Can't go to NCIS." Frustrated you try and shift again to prove a point and groan in pain.

"You could go home."

"I'm staying over night."

"Listening to the doctors orders. That's new."

"I can't even move, Jack. You don't have to babysit me."

Jack sighs, moving around and chucking the new empty cup of coffee in the trash can in the corner of the room. "And be badgered for it, apparently." Your frustrations rubbing off on her.

"Jack, I'm tired. In pain and pissed off. Thank you for helping, even - caring but I'm just going to be lying here and not wanting to talk. Go back to the office, punch Jake. Tell Ben and Alex they can only come and visit once they've wrapped up the case."

She smirks, walking back to the foot of the bed, holding her hand bag over her shoulder. "You giving me orders now?"

"Wouldn't dream of it. But-"

"I know, rest. I make you anxious. I'm going." She squeezed your foot covered by the hospital throw before turning to leave.

You hesitate, not wanting to make her leave while feeling awkward. "I didn-"

"Didn't have to. I'll be back later. Don't try and tell me not to."

"Bye, Jack." You relax once you see the smile curl at the corners of her lips. She wanted to come back and see you, that was a nice thought. You watch as she leaves and closes the door before closing your eyes and welcoming the exhaustion taking over.

The Doctor dared to check in on you again, waking you up from your sleep and reconfirming that you will be staying over night because it's a head injury and all the other jargon that explained why you needed to stay. Also informing you that there's a strong chance you'll be staying over tomorrow night as well even with your protests.

It hit 1700 and Ben and Alex walk in quietly probably prepared to see you sleeping but the nurse had just come in to check on things so you were awake for now. Alex doesn't stay long, just wanted to make sure you were ok before going home to rest from the hectic day. You and Ben are chatting about Jake and the arrest when Gibbs interrupts you.

"Your team has got this. You need to rest." The gruff voice came from the doorway and you strained around Ben to see Gibbs leaning against the doorframe. One person you definitely weren't prepared to see today.

You rolled your eyes at the old man although you were shocked to see him. "Haven't got anything better to do than come annoy me in hospital, Gibbs?" There was a snicker from Ben but his smile vanished immediately when he turned to see Gibbs glare. Even as tough as Ben is, Gibbs seemed to still intimidate him. But he wouldn't admit that.

"Jack mentioned in passing that you could be a flight risk." His eyes were back on you, humour in his eyes and a faint curl to his lips. The subtle trademark smirk.

You could feel the slight flush cross your cheeks and you couldn't help clearing your throat. Ben looked down at his shoes, you could tell he wasn't comfortable with this conversation. Only Gibbs had enough guts to bring Jack up in front of you. Along the way you knew he had found out some information, whether that was from Jack or Ducky you weren't sure. You didn't want to know either anyway but you had your suspscions.

"Come to handcuff me to the bed Le- Gibbs?" Your eyes dancing and teasing him. If Ben wasn't here you would've continued with his first name. It had the right amount of jest in it, enough for you to get away with using it but not with current company.

Gibbs shook his head and pushed off the doorframe. He walked around and stood at the end of your bed, placing his hands on the frame.

Ben must've seen the escape route clear because he got up quickly from his spot in the guest chair beside your bed. "Well you have a guard now." He winked, slipping into his coat. "So I'm gonna go back to work, got one last thing before I call it a night."

"Wise ass." You tried your best to sound irritated by his jab but your smile shone through. "Tell Alex not to worry, I can tell she was shook by everything. I've done stupider things. Just ask this guy." You nod towards Gibbs. "Learnt from the best." You chuckled as Gibbs tapped your foot not so gently in response. Of course, he found the one part of your body that wasn't in pain.

"I'll let her know about the first part." He smiles at you and then turns to Gibbs. "Agent Gibbs, thanks for watching her." Both men laugh at your dramatic sigh. "Talk to you later, Boss."

"Later, Agent Hunter." You watch him leave before your eyes shift to Gibbs who comes to sit in the chair Ben just vacated. "Really got nothing better to do?"

Gibbs holds his hands up in a surrender. "Didn't come here to be harassed. I can leave and make another Agent stand at your door."

"Fine." You grumble, shifting in your bed but the movement aggravates the scrapes on your legs and hip. "Son of a bitch." You flinch and slump back into your pillows.

"It'll take a while. Just rest. Need anything?"

Gibbs was being too nice. You'd observed him over the past few months and you could see the changes in the man. The way he spoke with his Agents and how he was around Jack. They had a connection. It bothered you at first - jealousy, you were jealous, you wanted that connection with her again but you had to admit you liked that they had someone to talk to or just be with. They had shared war history, of loss and suffering, you knew that so it shouldn't really surprise you that they became friends since Jack moved to DC. Gibbs was a hard ass most of the time but he had a good heart. Jack needed that.

If he wanted to be your body guard then he'd have to suffer through small talk. "I'm fine. How's your life going Gibbs?" You saw him grimace at the question. "How's the case going then?"

He relaxed a little more when you re-worded your question. "Case is wrapped up. Caught the idiot this afternoon just after you got yourself blown up." He smirked at your pout and folded his arms.

"Jack got me blown up." You tried to correct him which only got a raised eyebrow from Gibbs. "Well she was running the show when it happened. Why didn't you stop her?"

"From getting you blown up?"

You flicked your eyes to the end of your bed; you couldn't look at his questioning eyes. "From leaving the office."

"Because he's not my warden." You jumped slightly at her words, your head pounding but it was overwritten by your pounding heart. This wasn't happening. Gibbs and Jack in the same room, your room.

Gibbs turned at her voice. "Wouldn't dare." He and Jack shared a knowing smirk and the jealousy that you thought had been laid to rest, burst out of it's one-foot deep open grave.

"And you got yourself blown up the minute you stupidly went into that building." Her tone was serious, her eyes scanning over you, making sure you were ok even though she was only here hours before.

"Ouch. I'm hurt." You covered your hand over your heart. "No need to shoot me with the truth as well." Humour always was your default in awkward situations and this was very quickly becoming one with the way Jack was looking at you and the way Gibbs was looking between you both because your eyes never left hers. "Also wasn't stupid. Had to save the people inside. Either of you would've done the same move." You said it with such confidence that Jack just rolled her eyes and Gibbs smirked.

"Both of you are going to run out of your nine lives one day." She diverted the conversation, pushing it into safer territory.

"Thought Gibbs was on his twentieth or was that divorces, I get those two mixed up." You would blame it on the painkillers that were flowing through your system but Gibbs knew you well enough to know you knew exactly what you were saying.

"You know if you weren't concussed..." His tone was warning, there was lightness there too but you knew you had to pull it back a bit. He could still shoot you in a hospital bed.

"You'd have given me one by now." He smirked at your retreat.

The conversation flowed harmlessly and easily from there. Just three Agents chatting about the case, Jack updated you on Sully's condition. He had just come out of surgery and was stable, thank god. It wasn't long before Gibbs knew Jack and you wanted to talk and he excused himself.

It didn't go the way you wanted it to go. Mainly because your body wanted to sleep again and the painkillers were kicking your ass. Words weren't flowing or connecting the way you hoped and Jack was starting to shut down again.

"The way you look at Gibbs.. he looks at you.." The pain meds were kicking your butt, fighting your eyelids to stay awake. You'd have blushed or shot yourself if you realised what you said.

"You watch us?" Jack bites back to anger, only because you're injured but you can hear how unnerved she was by your admission.

"Sometimes.."

Silence. Not the good kind either, Jack isn't meeting you eyes and you want her to just leave at this point. Hopefully you'll forget this conversation ever happened and she will too.

"Why does this matter?"

Your brain wasn't working in a striaght light at the moment or even a zig zag line. Your brain jumped to a connection, it seemed to work, in your head. "Kinda does when you go and possibly risk getting yourself hurt when I put myself in harms away."

"How so? You're a fellow Agent and a... friend. Someone needed to do something. It's what we do."

"Someone was. I had my team and Metro at the scene. Didn't need a take over, Jack."

"I needed to be there." She shifted in her seat, unsettled by the admissions happening. "Would've done the same thing for anyone on Gibbs' team as well, not just if it was Gibbs." That was only a slight lie.

You were finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. "But would you have acted the same way if it was Gibbs in the building and on the floor?"

"Acted? Yes. Felt? No." She shocked herself with that admission. Maybe it was because she could see you were drifting off to sleep and barely able to keep your eyes open or maybe she needed to get these things off her chest as well. To be able to feel an emotional weight being lifted even if you didn't remember it in the morning.

. . . . . / 6 / . . . .

I went with the longer chapter. Hope you like it >.<

#jack sloane #jack sloane x reader #ncis #ncis x reader #reader insert #fem!reader

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