#luke: WHAT HIGHWAY I CAN FLY

[aledethanlast]

Tears part 1: wait Luke and Elliot broke up???? Why??? Maybe it makes sense, it's been years, they've had time to mature and grow and perhaps grow apart. I just hope it wasn't too ugly.

Tears part 2: never mind, I guess you don't grow out of being catty and dramatic.

[the-firebird69]

Lady Gaga - Paparazzi (Explicit) (Official Music Video)

Lennan was JC and Stalin Tommy f and Lennon set up a lot of programs to help Russians and to educate them and to house them and highway projects in Russia and they really needed them he created an infrastructure system and more a lot of programs it started Russia off where it was stagnated. I found this particular method of Tommy f to be disturbing where he inspires people to pull a weapon on me in order for them to disappear and he did it in 1997 he had Luke George full of gun on me and a pig roast out of jealousy and he wanted his weapon system and he's there there was another phone there well one of his clones and he's been threatening with it and Tommy f doesn't listen. But the hit on JC went through so you kidnapped him and it was very violent the accident was terrible and it looks like both of them were separated from their bodies and days party was on fire and his head went flying and hers was taken apart and somewhat intact and they say that the brains are intact. But it was Tommy f and his who are paparazzi who push them to have the accident and this song is about one of them and I think she wax one in the future and and I think the video takes place because it hasn't yet and she says it's abuse and she's not damaged that much she gets it but that's what they're up to and the brain was inside of the skull and somehow plasticized and it was done in Britain before they were placed in the grave and in that case you can have the temperature up to around 85° and it's always around 73 so people will think they're gone and that was what he was up to. But the method is like Trump all the rifle on me in Buffalo and another person pulled a gun on me in the little desert and I think that was George now there's a pattern and he gets people that do stupid stuff as an excuse he uses it.

Zues

I will say that's what it is. And there are some things that have not happened they didn't figure out that they're continuing to do these things and they're blaming Lady Gaga for pulling a gun on my husband and she did not and they keep saying it and it's a lie and she said she had a weapon but my husband looked and there wasn't one in the apartment and the reason was one of them took it the week before and he saw him looking into the window and it was the idiot at hodess, and I know because I was playing her and I knew he took it cuz I saw him take it when I was watching her and she left the role for a week and I came back to him and she was back after he left my house I have to leave. And he was trying to hit me thinking I was gaga and she's a jealousy as a reason and it work my husband said I think he's trying to do something to you and found out that people thought that you guys were together and said to him we were not together it was someone else and he said I'll find out who and she said you know who we're talking about and he meant the girl says it doesn't matter if she did that or not to you. It's me who should be angry then she said he said this it was you no matter what anyways and she said no people know it wasn't me all such people and that she asked around they said yes it's not her finally he said this I don't understand what's going on here and they said we know what you're up to and it's illegal I just sat back down and didn't say anything and turn the place upside down but it's just being annoying and try to electrocute my husband to kidnap him. And tried to blame jealousy and said it was kinda to it Gaga doing it and she was not so he's an idiot and these people do that but usually their stuff is quite rich now that moron kept on doing it and doing it and they fired him and he's doing it remotely and they said what do we do to me it's really simple there is the ghost that lives the golden egg and here are you to watch him and see where the egg is. And you told them to follow him and check out where he goes and not to talk to Brian h they did it and find out something that's the a****** bothering us and they went through his stuff found out he's the head guy no it's it was Claude and the whole tats nest of them. And they're the paparazzi that hit Dave and the cops and the ambulance people and they think they took his brain out and put them in the grave and the lead line coffin and people will try to figure out what they did and it started a war and they want to know where the brain is and where her brain is and what's going on and my husband says if what was done in Antarctica it was down there and you think it was and he says I'm pretty sure it is and they had a huge operation that the ship above could be taking over by the computer and those ships could be getting signal and they did start checking mildly. Now there is a security Force here and they have a name for it. His fleet is being sought and they're going after it hard and they are seeing something this guy is a menace and might not know what's going on and we can't get him off it and he's ridiculous and there might be a good reason for it if there isn't he should not have been acting that way and should have said something and still shifts are more prone to the lightning plasma weapons and regular metal and they're going to be a laughing stock so this whole subject got opened up and they're going after him then he pulled this stuff and pulling up to Venus and they are going after his fleets

Hera it says thank you to me and I say you're welcome to him and I do thank him this is important

I wish you would publish right now Thor Freya Olympus all of us do noada Ariana and I'm attaching a list

[caramelcal]

his favorite club

warnings: swearing, arguing, talks of murder, gangs, use of weapons etc. don’t read if you are not comfortable with these! 

word count: 2.5k

a/n: HELLO!!!! WELCOME BACK TO THE NEXT LUKE/BAMBI POST!

thank you so much for all the love anons <3

requests: Anonymous asked:

Could you write a Luke x gang where him and the reader are fighting and maybe his arm goes up and she thinks he’s going to hit her but would never and it’s fluffy in the end?

Anonymous asked:

For the Luke x gang could you write something angsty like maybe he doesn’t come home on time like usual and y/n is really worried idk maybe goes to his place of business and it starts a big fight and the reader gets a bit scared of how mad he is? Idk you can take it in any direction.

Anonymous asked:

Loved the new Luke post. Was wondering if the next part could have some danger concerning the reader? Or maybe she sees the dangerous part of him and it scares her?

The only sound filling the apartment was the sounds of the small girl's shoes hitting off of the floor loudly, and the soft but irritating clicking of the clock that stood on the wall in front of her. It was 8:13 pm. Over an hour later than Luke had said he was going to be.

Bambi knew the dangers of the work that Luke lived in, but he had only ever been once late and even then, she had got a text explaining that he would be. Yet, this time, she never got a text, a call, nothing.

Radio silence.

Her stomach clenched up every time she thought about the possibilities of what could have happened to Luke. She wouldn't consider herself a pessimist, but she can't exactly say that she was expecting the best.

She was sure that if Luke didn't get home soon, the floor would have worn away from the amount of pacing she was doing right now. The clock continued to tick on, each movement from the small circular thing stuck on the wall bringing her more and more anxiety.

He should be home.

Maybe that's why she found herself in one of Luke's cars, somehow managing to sneak past the two members of Luke's gang that she had seen on the way down, and evading Jacob, Luke's personal driver.

In fact, Bambi hadn't driven a car since she moved in with Luke, always being driven around by either Jacob or Luke himself. It felt weird being behind a wheel again, but she didn't have time to dwell on it or soak up in the power she felt inkling into her chest before she was speeding out of the garage, onto the main highway of the city.

If Bambi was being honest, she probably broke about seven driving laws (if there were that many, probably, she thought) on the way to the club that Luke often found himself at. He never brought her there, and actually, forbid her from coming to altogether, but she knew he couldn't be too mad considering it was all about her concern about him.

From the moment she walked in, she felt out of place. Men in dark button-ups, cigarettes falling from their lips, women in minimal and sexy clothing, drinks all around. The red luminous lights of the bar being the only light provided. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for her tall boyfriend but it was really difficult.

A lot of the people in here were very tall, much taller than Bambi was, so trying to see over them was impossible. She was very out of place, alone, scared, and looked far too good to be in such a twisted club.

Somehow, she managed to make her way over to the bar, where she recognized a figure with his back turned towards her, making a cocktail. It was only seconds after when he turned around, dimpled face on display, he almost spilled the drink on him with how fast he stopped upon seeing her.

His eyes whipped around wildly around the club before walking over to her and whispering, "You shouldn't be here! Didn’t Luke forbid you from coming here? You need to leave!"

"Nice to see you too, Ash," Bambi couldn't help the sarcasm falling off of her lips before she asked, "Luke never got home. Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine, he just got caught up with some paperwork and stuff, he should be back soon,"

"Paperwork?" She asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at the gang member.

"Well yeah, just updating a file on the drug run today just to say it went well," Ashton shrugged lightly, "he should be done soon."

Even though Ashton shrugged it off well, Bambi knew he was lying. She could feel it in her bones, in her gut, that he was lying and she was determined to find out the truth.

She shrugged lightly, "Well if it's just paperwork then he won't mind me being there."

With that, she stalked away from the bar in search of the backrooms, wasting no time for Ashton to catch up with her as she went on her way. She walked around the back hallways, looking for any indication of Luke's presence.

The rooms were silent. All but one.

"Please! I don't know anything! Stop!" It was a plead filled with both pain and desperation but it was quickly cut off with the sound of a swift but powerful hit.

Her pulse raced, legs shakily making their way towards the room, gently pushing the door open. It was silent, the door, cracking open so that the small girl could see.

Bambi felt sick.

She could see her boyfriend’s blond curls held up in a hair tie she had loaned him earlier this morning, bloody hand reaching up high as he punched the poor boy on the chair again.

“I’ll give you one more chance before I use something more than my hand,” He threatened gruffly, causing Bambi to flinch. Her breath was caught in her throat, eyes welling up in tears. She knew she shouldn’t have been so upset, she knew her boyfriend was a gang member, but something about seeing him doing this to someone with the same hands that caressed her and made her feel safe felt...wrong.

Suddenly, Ashton entered another door that entered into the room that Luke was in, alerting both Luke and Michael, who had been overlooking the situation. Only then did Bambi realize that Luke had picked up an object, it glinting in the light as he moved towards the door that Ashton had entered.

Luke was holding a knife.

A soft gasp escaped Bambi’s lips, thankfully not loud enough for Luke to hear. She didn’t want him near her, not right now anyway. She didn’t even want him to look at her.

“She’s here! You need to stop, Luke!” Bambi took that as her clear to get the hell out of there. If what Ashton said was true, about Luke being mad she was here, she didn’t want him to find her. Not anymore, anyway.

She didn’t want him to get anywhere near him. How could she possibly sleep at night knowing the man that slept beside her, that played with her hair, that made her feel safe, did that to people? What if he got so mad that he did that to her?

She was being irrational, but at that moment she couldn’t help it.

She shuffled backward, away from the door that led to the room Luke was in, choosing to swiftly get away from him now that she could.

Now, she wasn’t scared for Luke, she was scared of Luke.

“Hey kid, where are you goin'?” Calum asked as she crashed into his chest, making her stumble back lightly, mouth ajar.

She went to speak, to come up with some excuse but she didn’t have time. She couldn’t sit here and entertain Calum with a nice, little conversation when she was trying to evade her boyfriend.

That’s why she just turned, maneuvering around her, and started to run.

“Bambi!” The girl became rigid as she heard him shout, becoming increasingly aware that he had caught up to her, and was planning on talking to her. It was almost as if she was frozen in place, unable to move into the car and unable to move towards him, not that she wanted to. However, she could hear him come to a stop behind her, his voice softer as he spoke, trying not to gather any attention towards the couple, “Why are you here? I thought I told you that you weren’t allowed at the club?”

Her mouth ran dry, unable to respond. In fact, she acted as if she never heard him speak, afraid of what he would do if she pissed him off. Yet, her silence was probably the most angering thing to the tall blond boyfriend of hers, which became obvious when he spoke next.

“Bambi? Let me get you out of here, I’ll drive,” He went to grab the car keys out of her hand, but she had seen his shadow when he went to grab them, quickly jerking out of his grasp, turning around, and staring up at him.

She didn’t miss the slight shock in his eyes when she did so, or the irritancy that bubbled deep beneath. Her throat felt thick, clouded, but she quickly cleared it, voice forceful as she stared up at the gang member, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Bambi, what the hell are you talking about? Just let me drive and we can talk about this when we get home lets not cause a scene,” Luke was trying to reason with the girl, not cause a scene in front of his men, but Bambi was not having it. She wasn’t about to get into a car with him, shaking her head wildly, “Bambi.”

His tone was a warning, deep voice, cold tone. It was demanding but Bambi was not in the mood for Luke to boss her about, especially not right now.

“What? You don’t want people to realize that we’re fighting and that I’m your girlfriend, is that it?” The words were flying out of the girl’s mouth before she could stop them and Luke’s blue eyes glared down at her, his jaw ticking.

“Is this really what this is about?” Luke asked, referring to the argument they had gone through all of those weeks ago. Yet, that it isn’t. The problem was that Bambi saw something she wasn’t supposed to, that Luke had tried to shield her from as best as he could. Even if it meant that she wasn’t allowed near his favorite club.

“You nearly killed him, Luke.”

Her voice was painfully quiet, muttering in a way that makes it obvious she had to force the words out. Her fists are clenched at her sides, her eyes looking down to evade the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Bambi you don’t know what you saw-”

“You had a knife, Luke! I saw you punch him just look at your hands right now they’re-” She stopped briefly, glancing down at the man’s hands, the ones that gave her such tender, sweet love. The ones that made her feel safe, yet now? All she seen was all of the blood coating them, some dry some relatively fresh, “they’re covered in his blood.”

Luke flexed his hands slightly, feeling the blood coating them become ever so evident, “What else am I supposed to do? What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? I work in a fucking gang, you knew this.”

“I didn’t think-” The girl cut herself off, shaking her head as tears rose to her eyes, shielding her view.

“What the fuck do you think I do? Hand out fucking rainbow stickers and give them a nice hug? That’s not how this works, you know this,” His voice was harsh, and slowly rising to a loud level, and all Bambi wants is to go and hide away from him; to be by herself. She can’t handle this, not right now.

“How can you expect me to be ok with this?” The girl asked, “It’s sick! It’s twisted! You could have killed that guy!”

“Don’t suddenly go getting morals just because you saw a bit of fucking blood! We’re leaving. Now,” His voice is demanding, loud and borderline shouting, his hand coming down towards her rapidly to grab the car keys off of her but then he froze at the movement from the small girl in front of him.

She flinched.

Silence filled them both.

The tears that tracked down her face started to build in his eyes, his heart dropping to his feet when he saw the girl cower. It was barely for a second when she shielded her head, in the same place he had hit that guy barely five minutes before like he was going to hit her.

He spluttered with his mouth ajar. Bambi, his Bambi, the one he had worked so hard to protect, to love, to cherish, was scared of him. He just wanted to comfort her, to hold her close and let her know that everything was going to be okay. Yet, he couldn’t comfort her that he would battle all her fears when he was what she was scared of.

“Bambi...” It was a sad plead.

The girl never replied, tears becoming thicker as she shook her head. She was overcome with emotions. Afraid, sad, ashamed, angry; she wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling at that moment.

“Bambi I’d never...”

The girl wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Never in his whole life had Luke felt so ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he would ever let a fragment of his girl believe he would ever harm her or put her in harm’s way.

He would do everything to make sure she was okay.

“I need to go,” The girl gingerly wiped her tears with her -Luke’s- jumper, the large sleeves rolled up but still covering her hands fully. She entered the car and Luke made no move to stop her, he didn’t care that she had taken one of his cars at that moment, he didn’t care that she had disobeyed his orders of coming to the club, he didn’t care about anything other than how he had wronged her.

Then, he was left by himself, in the middle of the club’s back parking lot, blood still coating his hands that even made him feel sick now. The cold night air nipped at his skin, yet again reminding him that he was void of her warmth. He was all alone.

He returned home all of twenty minutes later, a fresh pair of clothes on and hands bare of blood. The house was quiet but he knew that she was there, the bedroom door ever so slightly ajar, a faint light emitting from the room.

He leaned against the door frame, watching her with a sullen face as she packed. She was only packing a few outfits, not anything major as she sniffed lightly. She was still crying, Luke noticed, and it made his heart ache, “I’m leaving for Anna’s. I just need some time.”

Luke knew he was in no position to argue with the girl right now. She was fragile enough as it is, and even if Luke didn’t want her to leave, she needed space and he respected that.

She slung the overnight bag over her shoulder, hefting it up, “I’ve called an Uber. They’re waiting downstairs.”

Luke nodded as Bambi stopped in front of him, and almost hesitantly, he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead, “Stay safe, ok? I love you.”

The girl nodded her head, sending the boy a tight-lipped smile before leaving, leaving Luke alone once again. Yet, despite the heartbreak, he felt in that moment as she left, he knew this wasn’t the end. He’d manage to make it up to her, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t rest easy until he did.

[laresearchette]

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: THE PALONI SHOW! HALLOWEEN SPECIAL! (Disney + Star) GRIMCUTTY (Disney + Star) KIDS BAKING CHAMPIONSHIP: TRICK OR EAT (Food Network Canada) 8:00pm THE VOW: PART II (HBO Canada) 9:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: RISING AGAINST ASIAN HATE: ONE DAY IN MARCH (PBS Feed)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA MISKINA, LA PAUVRE

CRAVE TV THE VOW: PART II

DISNEY + STAR THE PALONI SHOW! HALLOWEEN SPECIAL!

NETFLIX CANADA WAFFLES + MOCHI’S RESTAURANT

2022 FIFA U17 WOMEN’S WORLD CUP (TSN3) 6:48am: New Zealand vs. Germany (TSN4) 6:48am: Nigeria vs. Chile (TSN3) 10:18am: United States vs. Morocco (TSN4) 10:18am: Brazil vs. India

NHL HOCKEY (SNOntario/SNWest) 7:00pm: Coyotes vs. Leafs (SNPacific) 7:00pm: Canucks vs. Capitals (SNEast) 7:00pm: Penguins vs. Habs (TSN3) 8:30pm: Jets vs. Stars

MLS SOCCER (TSN4) 7:00pm: New York City vs. Miami (TSN4) 9:30pm: Dallas vs. Minnesota

MURDOCH MYSTERIES (CBC) 8:00pm: While investigating a murder in a tight-lipped Mennonite colony, Murdoch and Ogden don plain clothing and go under cover.

CHILDREN RUIN EVERYTHING (CTV) 8:00pm: Astrid and her sister suspect their mom is hiding something from them; they begin snooping around; their mother appears to be dating someone new; a request to launch a new product at work leads James to agree to meet with Ennis' cousin.

NFL FOOTBALL (TSN/TSN5) 8:15pm: Broncos vs. Chargers

THE NORTH WATER (CBC) 9:00pm (SEASON FINALE): After healing in a cabin, Sumner returns to Hull to demand money from Baxter to start a new life.

HIGHWAY THRU HELL (Discovery Canada) 9:00pm: James Luke and over 20 tow trucks must recover 200 cars in a mudslide zone in mere hours; a second atmospheric river threatens the Fraser Valley, as the military is brought in to help engineer solutions.

AN UNEXPECTED KILLER (T&E) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE):  When a devoted mother with a bright future in show business is ruthlessly gunned down, a number of suspects emerges; just as detectives think they have the killer in their sights, the investigation takes a jaw-dropping turn.

A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY (Showcase) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE):  A trusted family friend picks up Jan after school to go horseback riding, but as nightfall looms and they're still not home, what seemed like a casual afternoon slowly turns nightmarish.

TOP CHEF CANADA (Food Network Canada) 10:00pm: The Chefs get creative in the Top Chef Canada Kitchen during a very colourful Quickfire Challenge. Later, Soccer Fever is in the air as the competitors put their barbecue skills to the test and host a cookout for the next generation of soccer superstars.

A CUT ABOVE (Discovery Canada) 10:00pm: In the penultimate challenge, the carvers are under pressure more than ever, as only three will advance to the final.

ALL THAT GLITTERS (Makeful) 10:00pm

ACTING GOOD (CTV Comedy) 10:30pm (SERIES PREMIERE):  After falling flat on his face in the city of Winnipeg, Paul returns home to the fly-in community of Grouse Lake.

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

The Weather In PJO (brought to you by gods and demigods)

*alternating colors for ease of reading

**page numbers look weird because they're copied/pasted from ebooks

“Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I’d ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We’d had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.” - TLT pg 33

“One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.” - TLT pg 65

“Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery. [...] Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten.” - TLT pg 156

“There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and our car exploded.” - TLT pg 176

“I was still in bed in cabin three. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn’t dreamed that.” - TLT pg 491

“It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky.

I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of me.” - TLT pg 520

“BOOOOOM!

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs. Dodds was not yet dead.” - TLT pg 629

“The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert.” - TLT pg 988

“In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades’s fault.” - TLT pg 1191

“I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the middle of the night. A storm was blowing. Wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up. A block away, past a line of hibiscus bushes, the ocean churned.” - SOM pg 10

“After a few more minutes, the dark splotches ahead of us came into focus. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea-an island with cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass.” - SOM pg 598

“A storm raged that night, but it parted around Camp Half-Blood as storms usually did. Lightning flashed against the horizon, waves pounded the shore, but not a drop fell in our valley. We were protected again, thanks to the Fleece, sealed inside our magical borders.” - SOM pg 1045

“Sleet and snow pounded the highway. Annabeth, Thalia, and I hadn’t seen each other in months, but between the blizzard and the thought of what we were about to do, we were too nervous to talk much.” - TTC pg 11

“Old spirits are protecting the bad boat.”

“The Princess Andromeda?” I said. “Luke’s boat?”

“Yes. They make it hard to find. Protect it from Daddy’s storms. Otherwise he would smash it.” - TTC pg 210

“Clouds seemed to be swirling around its peak, as though the mountain was drawing them in, spinning them like a top. “What’s going on up there? A storm?”

Zoë didn’t answer. I got the feeling she knew exactly what the clouds meant, and she didn’t like it.” - TTC pg 751

“I will do my best to destroy his boat with storms, but he is making alliances with my enemies, the older spirits of the ocean. They will fight to protect him.” - TTC pg 886

“We were standing at the dining pavilion, just where we’d last spoken before I went on the quest. The wind was bitter cold, even with the camp’s magical weather protection. Snow fell lightly against the marble steps. I figured outside the camp borders, there must be a blizzard happening.”- TTC pg 915

“The wind whipped cold off the bay. In the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful, but in the north, over Mount Tamalpais, huge storm clouds swirled. The whole sky seemed like a black top spinning from the mountain where Atlas was imprisoned, and where the Titan palace of Mount Othrys was rising anew. It was hard to believe the tourists couldn’t see the supernatural storm brewing, but they didn’t give any hint that anything was wrong.

“It’s even worse,” Annabeth said, gazing to the north. “The storms have been bad all year, but that—” - BOTL pg 359

“I had no choice. I called to the sea. I reached inside myself and remembered the waves and the currents, the endless power of the ocean. And I let it loose in one horrible scream.

Afterward, I could never describe what happened. An explosion, a tidal wave, a whirlwind of power simultaneously catching me up and blasting me downward into the lava. Fire and water collided, superheated steam, and I shot upward from the heart of the volcano in a huge explosion, just one piece of flotsam thrown free by a million pounds of pressure. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was flying, flying so high Zeus would never have forgiven me, and then beginning to fall, smoke and fire and water streaming from me. I was a comet hurtling toward the earth.” - BOTL pg 618/619

“Mrs. O’Leary howled. I patted her head, trying to comfort her as best I could. The earth rumbled—an earthquake that could probably be felt in every major city across the country—as the ancient Labyrinth collapsed. Somewhere, I hoped, the remains of the Titan’s strike force had been buried.” - BOTL pg 1005

“I remembered what Tyson had told me at the beginning of the summer. “The old sea gods?”

“Indeed. The battle came first to me, Percy. In fact, I cannot stay long. Even now the ocean is at war with itself. It is all I can do to keep hurricanes and typhoons from destroying your surface world, the fighting is so intense.” - BOTL pg 1066

“Then the entire sea grew dark in front of us, like an inky storm was rolling in. Thunder crackled, which should've been impossible underwater. A huge icy presence was approaching. I sensed a wave of fear roll through the armies below us.” - TLO pg 153

“I saw a bank of storm clouds rolling across the Midwest plains. Lightning flickered. Lines of tornadoes destroyed everything in their path— ripping up houses and trailers, tossing cars around like Matchbox toys. “Monumental floods," an announcer was saying. "Five states declared disaster areas as the freak storm system sweeps east, continuing its path of destruction." The cameras zoomed in on a column of storm bearing down on some Midwest city. I couldn't tell which one. Inside the storm I could see the giant—just small glimpses of his true form: a smoky arm, a dark clawed hand the size of a city block. His angry roar rolled across the plains like a nuclear blast.” - TLO pg 216-218

“Over the city, a thunderstorm boiled—a wall of absolute black with lightning streaking across the sky. A few blocks away, swarms of emergency vehicles gathered with their lights flashing. A column of dust rose from a mound of rubble, which I realized was a collapsed skyscraper. [...] Wind whipped her hair. The temperature was dropping rapidly, like ten degrees just since I'd been standing there.” - TLO pg 468-470

“She faltered as a mighty groan cut through the sky. A blast of lightning hit the center of the darkness. The entire city shook. The air glowed, and every hair on my body stood up. The blast was so powerful I knew it could only be one thing: Zeus's master bolt. It should have vaporized its target, but the dark cloud only staggered backward. A smoky fist appeared out of the clouds. It smashed another tower, and the whole thing collapsed like children's blocks.

The reporter screamed. People ran through the streets. Emergency lights flashed.” - TLO pg 470-471

“Listen to me!" I said. "Kronos's army is invading Manhattan.'"

"Don't you think we know that?" East asked. "I can feel his boats right now. They're almost across."

"Yep," Hudson agreed. "I got some filthy monsters crossing my waters too."

"So stop them," I said. "Drown them. Sink their boats."

"Why should we?" Hudson grumbled. "So they invade Olympus. What do we care?"

"Because I can pay you.” - TLO pg 654

“Water sprayed his face, stinging his eyes. The wind picked up, and Hyperion staggered backward.

"Percy!" Grover called in amazement. "How are you doing that?"

Doing what? I thought.

Then I looked down, and I realized I was standing in the middle of my own personal hurricane. Clouds of water vapor swirled around me, winds so powerful they buffeted Hyperion and flattened the grass in a twenty-yard radius. Enemy warriors threw javelins at me, but the storm knocked them aside.

"Sweet," I muttered. "But a little more!"

Lightning flickered around me. The clouds darkened and the rain swirled faster. I closed in on Hyperion and blew him off his feet.” - TLO pg 903-904

[dontshootmespence]

Home Again

Summary: Spencer and Luke are happily married when the world goes to shit. In the chaos, they’re separated. After years, each one presumes the other dead. Until one day.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez

Word Count: 3,564

Warning: Zombie apocalypse shit. Character deaths. 

A/N: This fulfills my apocalypse au square for @cmbingo​. 

Inside their mid-size apartment, Luke dances to his favorite music as he moves about the kitchen, getting dinner ready for when Spencer comes home. A medical researcher’s work was never really done, but in the years since they’d gotten married, Spencer made a commitment to be home by every night at 6PM unless they discussed otherwise. 

Turning on the nightly news, Luke saw what looked like a pretty severe car accident on the road that Spencer normally took on the way home. He pulled out his phone and dialed, hoping to give his husband a head’s up about the driving conditions, but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey, Spence, it’s me. I mean, of course it’s me,” he laughed. “But anyway, I’m working on dinner now and I just saw the news. There’s a big accident on I-275 so you might want to take another way home if you can. I’ll see you in a little bit. Love you.”

As Luke slipped the chicken into the pot, he heard what sounded like another car wreck and ran to the window, sticking his head out to see a car on its side and one man running clumsily after another. A knock at the door distracted him from the damage on the street below. 

“Luke, it’s Steven. Open up.”

Steven was their neighbor and a college student. They rarely ever spoke. “Steven, what’s wrong?”

“There’s something wrong, man. People are going crazy out there. They’re attacking each other and...and eating each other. It’s like there are...”

Luke couldn’t help but laugh. “Do not say zombies. There’s no such thing, kid.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Steven insisted. “Something is happening. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll pack up some essentials and get moving. Apparently, it started at the Recovered Exploration Lab downtown and people, zombies, whatever they are, they’re headed this way. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

Steven sped down the stairs in a panic, leaving Luke’s focus to drift back to the television. “We’re here just above Recovered Exploration Lab where the breakout of what looks like zombies seems to have started,” the news anchor started. “On the ground, people are ripping and tearing and eating each other in what seems to be a real-life apocalypse, folks. At this time we don’t know what caused it, but we can assume that the staff at Recovered Exploration have been keeping secrets. This is WLVW Channel 2 News. Back to you in the studio.”

Luke couldn’t believe what he was hearing and ran back to the window to see even more people than before ambling down the street. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out his phone again and dialed Spencer again. “Spence, have you heard what’s on the news? Are they talking about it on the radio? They’re saying it’s a real life zombie apocalypse out there and I’m, I’m, I’m, uh, looking out the window and people are attacking each other. There’s a swarm of people heading toward the apartment so I’m grabbing some essentials for us. Meet me at our diner okay? Then we can figure out what to do. Be safe, Spence. I love you.”

Running into their bedroom, Luke grabbed the biggest backpack he could find and anything he thought they might need. Spare clothes, toiletries, canned food, a can opener, toilet paper, some sharp knives and his guns from work. “What else?” He spoke into the empty room. On the wall hung their favorite picture from their wedding. He and Spencer wore matching tuxes and walked hand in hand along a lit-up, tree-lined path. Lost in thought, the commotion brought him back. He stuffed the picture into the backpack and ran downstairs, hoping that this was all a dream.

----

Having heard both of Luke’s messages, Spencer took an alternative route home, but unfortunately, he ran into another accident, slamming on the brakes as two cars crashed into stopped cars in front of them. With traffic at a standstill, he pulled his phone out and tried to call Luke. Obviously, there had to be another explanation for what was happening. 

As he was about to try calling for a second time, he saw someone in the wreckage ahead, who he’d previously assumed to be dead, jerk back to life. Slowly, she go up from the ground and shuffled toward an office that had his back turned. When an ear-shattering scream resounded through the air, Spencer dropped his phone. She wasn’t the only one.

A man from a nearby car knocked on Spencer’s window. “Buddy, we need to get out of here. You have anything that might help?” 

“Like what?” Spencer asked, voice quivering as he picked up his phone from the car floor and shoved it back in his pocket. Quickly, he searched the car for anything that might be helpful. His keys.

“Anything in the trunk?” The man asked, grabbing Spencer’s arm and yanking him away from the incoming crowd. “We need to move now.” 

His mind had blanked. After grabbing the emergency preparedness bag from the trunk of the car that Luke insisted he have, he and the unnamed man ran over the highway barrier and away from the traffic. “I need to get to the diner on Jones and Washington,” Spencer said. “Do you know it? My husband said to meet him there.”

Staring back into the growing see of screaming and ambling bodies, the man replied. “I don’t think you’re going that way, kid.”

----

Stumbling down into the street they lived on, Luke looked around in horror. He ran. He ran as hard and as fast as his body would allow, staying clear of any of the infected like his life depended on it. Right now, it did. 

Luke wavered between walking and running in the general direction of the diner he knew so well. For five years, every Friday, he and Spencer would head there for a greasy burger and fries and some of the best milkshakes either of them had ever tasted. 

The farther he traveled from the apartment, the less insanity he seemed to encounter, but still, his heart beat with reckless abandon as he peered around every corner. If whatever this was didn’t get resolved soon, every street, every city, every state would be something to fear. No longer would he and Spencer be able to go to the local park and bask in the sun. No more walks on the beach. No more calm and colorful sunsets. “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he muttered to himself. “Just get to the diner.”

Using landmarks to guide his way (so that he could keep his phone on and pray for a call from Spencer), he crossed what he believed was the halfway point between the apartment and the restaurant. They now lived in a world where people ate each other and rose from the dead, but it was the groups of human beings taking this whole situation as a free for all that he had to avoid most of all. 

As he hurriedly turned the corner, Luke bumped into a group of nervous but determined young adults. The youngest couldn’t have been 16 and the oldest topped 25 at the most. By the looks of the straggling adults, most of them had already lost someone or taken this new world as an excuse to ditch their families and fend for themselves. The most self-assured of the bunch stepped in toward Luke and looked at his bag. “Seems like you’re well stocked.”

“For a couple days,” he replied, carefully taking a small step backward. “For my spouse and I until this whole thing blows over.” He spoke the words, but something told him ‘this whole thing’ wasn’t going to be over anytime soon. 

With each step Luke took back, the young man stepped forward and tried to yank the bag from his grasp. “Sorry, kiddo. That ain’t happening.” Before the other man could swing his gun from his back and into his hand, Luke had his pulled and aimed. “Don’t. I don’t wanna hurt people. You walk away. I’ll walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

The next moments passed by in a blur - kids running, bullets flying. Luke didn’t glance back, running away from the screams and toward the diner with tears in his eyes. He just shot a kid. A kid who was just trying to survive in whatever the hell this new world was. 

----

Days passed before Spencer and his party of misfits arrived at the diner. Jim was the man that shook him to reality. On the way they’d also run into a single mother named Avery and her 3-year-old son, Chase, who were being harassed by a couple of guys who just didn’t want to take no for an answer. Although they tried to resolve things peacefully, Jim killed the one that pulled a gun on him and the other ran away. From there, they all went to Jim’s former precinct and grabbed whatever guns they could find. Unlike Luke, Spencer wasn’t used to holding guns, but he was going to have to get accustomed quickly.

Normally, the diner looked reminiscent of the 50s. Crisp black and white checkered floors, red leather seats, clean white tables and chrome chairs at similarly colored bar-tops. Now there were skid marks on the floors, dinged counters and bits of food all over the floor. The kitchen had already been ransacked so very little decent food was left, but they stocked up on what they could and waited. 

Nearly a week went by before Jim insisted they leave. “I know your husband was going to meet you here, Spencer, but if we stay any longer we’re putting ourselves in danger. We don’t wanna use all our gunpower to defend this place when we can’t stay here.”

Spencer knew he was right, but the thought of leaving hurt his heart. “I’m never going to see my husband again, am I, Jim?”

The older man just looked at him sadly, resting his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Call him. You’ve still got a little power left. Leave a message. And hope for the best. I’ll give you a minute before we head out.” 

Spencer thanked him softly and went into the back room before pulling out the phone. Shakily, he dialed Luke one more time. “Hey, babe. I’ve been at the diner for almost a week. I don’t know what happened to you...or,” his voice broke, “or if you’re even still alive, but if you are, I’m headed toward my mother’s nursing home. I need to see if she’s okay. I have no idea if we’re ever going to see each other again. I hope we are. But if we aren’t, I need you know that the years we’ve been together, the years we’ve been married, they’ve been the best and happiest of my life. Studying what I study, it can suck the life out of you, but seeing you in the mornings, the sun shining on your face, it gave me that little push I needed to go do what I do. You changed my life, Luke. I love you so much. If you’re out there, and you can’t get to me, just know that, I love you with everything I have.”

Quickly, he ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket before breaking down sobbing. He allowed himself a few minutes and then met Jim, Avery and Chase outside. They’d all agreed to head in the direction of his mother’s nursing home. Spencer prayed that Luke and his mother were still alive. And safe.

----

After shooting the kid, Luke ran into a building a melted down. Sure, he’d had to shoot people before. He’d killed people before. But this was different. This was practically a kid whose only crime was trying to look out for the group he was with. Between dodging zombies and dodging other people, it took Luke almost two full weeks to get to the diner, but by the time he arrived, if Spencer had been there, he was gone. 

Despite the possibility of nearby zombies or walkers or whatever he’d heard people calling them, Luke screamed at the top of his lungs and lost it. Without finding him here, there was no guarantee that they were ever going to see each other again. In his search for any salvageable supplies, he came across random papers, broken glass, ripped bandages - but nothing of use. 

When he glanced down at the floor, he saw Spencer’s signature and hurriedly picked it up, but the other pieces of whatever note he left were too ripped up and dirty and stepped on for him to make out what it said. As his fingers slid over his husband’s name, a tear fell from his eye. If Spencer was still alive, he was likely headed in the direction his mother lived. 

“Hello?” A small voice broke Luke from his train of thought. He spun around, his hand on the gun in his holster. “Please don’t hurt me,” the girl said. Dirt and dried blood covered her face and her eyes conveyed a lifetime of hurt. “Please.”

Luke lowered his gun. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

Luisa had been right in the eye of the storm at the start of this whole thing weeks earlier. “My papa died trying to save my mama. And then she was bitten trying to save my sister and I. She saved me, but it was too late for Josephine. My mother lost too much blood. She fell asleep and never woke up and I had to- I had to put her out of her misery. I’m all alone.”

“Not anymore, kiddo. “You’ll stay with me.”

“Thank you - “

“Luke.”

“Thank you, Luke.”

----

The weeks that followed put Spencer’s band of misfits went through the ringer. After detouring around a group of people that would’ve outnumbered them three to one had they decided they wanted trouble, they had to fight their way through a hoard of walkers. Though they had few weapons, they managed, but not without Jim being bitten. 

“Kid, you know without a medic around this tourniquet is just stopping the inevitable. The bastard nicked my brachial artery,” Jim said, heavily drawing in each breath as it came to him. “You’ve got to take the weapons and keep those two safe for as long as you can. Maybe find your husband again.”

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat. “I could go find-”

“No way. There’s a hoard at our backs and only Lord knows what up ahead. I won’t have you risking that for me.”

Over and over again, Spencer tried to reason with him, but in a way Jim was right. He had no idea what was up ahead and even if he found a medic there was no guarantee that he’d get back in time to save Jim. “I’m sorry,” Spencer said, placing a handgun in his palm. “I really am.”

“I know, kid. I have you find your husband again. Now get going.”

Once Spencer grabbed the weapons Jim had, he gathered up Avery and Chase and headed out into the unknown. A gunshot rang out and the crows fled into the sky. Hope was waning fast.

----

On their way to Diana’s nursing home, Spencer, Avery and Chase faced no further challenges. As soon as they detected voices, they headed away from them, preferring to stay in their small group of three than risk bringing other people into their ranks. They crossed the occasional zombie, but they were quickly dispatched.

Finally, they reached Diana’s home, but they were too late. Spencer found her alive, but too bloodied and bruised to move. “Mom, I’ll find someone. I won’t let you die,” Spencer said softly as he cried. “I can find someone to help and we can get you out of here.”

Diana was nothing if not a realist. “I’m going to die, Spencer. Soon probably. I just hope I can keep my wits about me until the sleep sets in. How’s Luke? Where is he? Is he-?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer sobbed. “You really want to talk about my life right now?’

“Yes. When I first saw this on the news, I thought I was having a nightmare, but it’s real and it’s unreal and I just want a sense of normalcy.”

Spencer radioed Avery to tell her where he was before curling in next to his mother. “I was on my way home from work when this all started. Luke was home. I-I haven’t seen him since and I don’t think I’m ever going to see him again. Mom, I’m so scared of being alone.”

“You’ll find him again,” Diana said weakly. 

“How do you know?”

“A mother knows. Remember?”

Spencer grabbed her hand and started reading the nearest book he could find. “Spencer...” she said, whisper soft. “It’s time for me to go to sleep.”

“No, mom, just a little bit longer.”

“Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

Diana fought for each breath. “Don’t let me turn into one of those things.”

Spencer choked out a sob. “I won’t.”

“And stay hopeful.” 

He promised he would, though he wasn’t sure it was a promise he could keep. “Mom?”

Nothing.

Before she could come back, he took a small gun out of his pocket, aimed, and fired. “I’ll try, Mom.”

----

Days passed into weeks passed into months passed into years. In a world changed, it changed those within in. Luke, once a confident and self-assured government agent, turned inward, going from one “safe haven” to another and sheltering himself and Luisa until their hideaway was discovered and they needed to move on, never once fighting for a place to call a makeshift home.

Through the years he lost himself, finding that instead of helping others, he did only what he had to do for he and Luisa to survive, never once taking a life, only dispatching zombies when need be. 

On the other hand, Spencer found himself hardening against the world. More than a year after everything began, Avery was overtaken by a hoard they passed, shoving Chase out of the crowd and toward Spencer. With her last breaths, she begged Spencer to take care of her son. Five years later, he and the almost nine-year-old boy headed a group of nearly 50 people, though numbers dwindled and rose from month to month. 

Spencer became a leader, but he confided in no one, killed if it was necessary to defend his “home”, and rarely spoke, shutting down in the face of any emotional connection. To connect was to lose, and he had lost enough. 

“Daniel and Alexa, you’ll accompany me into town for some supplies.” In addition to defending the makeshift community they’d developed, Spencer always sent out scouts to ensure that no one touched the supplies in surrounding towns. Less-looted stores were low in number and eventually he would need to conduct another reconnaissance mission to find supplies, but for now they would survive. “We leave within the hour.”

Smiles were few and far between, for Spencer more than most. However, the little boy he’d ended up raising as his son brought him a sliver of joy, along with his memories of Luke. They coaxed him to sleep at night and in the morning, he used them to make it through the day. “Chase, you know I love you, right?”

“I do, Spencer. Be careful okay? I can’t lose you.”

“I’ll be back.” He never promised, knowing more than most that sometimes the world was cruel. “Be good for Sandra.”

Though he was born before the world went to shit, Chase had essentially grown up in this new world. He was disciplined and trustworthy and more an adult than any almost nine-year-old boy should ever have to be.

On the way to gather supplies, Spencer zoned out, only gathering little bits of the conversation going on behind him. Both Daniel and Alexa had lost spouses at the start of the apocalypse and something told Spencer they were seeking comfort in one another now that they were “safe.” Funny how the meaning of a word could change in such a short amount of time.

While out for supplies, Spencer had insisted that no one go anywhere alone, so the three entered the hardware store in search of anything they could use as a weapon. As he gathered ropes and zip ties and wrenches into his supply bag, he heard Alexa and Daniel call for him. “Boss!”

Spencer approached the two, their guns raised and ready to fire. In the line of sight was a young woman, sheltered by a man. He closed his eyes and begged the universe for this not to be a joke, his mind playing tricks on him. When Spencer opened his eyes, he remained. “Luke?”

He smiled and immediately broke into tears. “Spence? You’re, you’re-”

Pushing past Daniel and Alexa, Spencer ran into Luke’s arms on the verge of tears, pressing his lips to his husband’s for the first time in nearly seven years. “I’m alive. And you’re here. How are you here?”

“Because I’m a different person. You?”

“Me too,” Spencer said sadly. “Everything’s changed. Except what I feel for you. I’m finally home again.”

[serendipitous-magic]

Luke and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad 72 Hours

Imagine you’re a 19 year old working on a farm, and one day you buy some new animals from traveling merchants to help out around the farm - let’s say a goat and an ostrich. You’re cleaning them and getting them ready to work when you notice that the goat has a message tied around its neck. It sounds like the message might be intended for the kooky old guy who lives by himself out in the wilderness. You’ve met the guy a few times, you might even consider him a friend, but he’s mostly a mystery. You ask your uncle if he knows anything about it, but first he denies any knowledge and then he says the intended recipient of the message knew your dead father, and then he abruptly tells you to forget all about it.

Okay, weird???

That night, the goat runs away. The ostrich is freaking out about it. You go after it with the ostrich the next morning and find it making its way towards the old hermit’s house, but you’re attacked by a local gang and knocked tf out. When you wake up, the old hermit is there, and he takes you back to his place and drops the bomb on you that apparently your dead dad wasn’t who your family told you he was?? Apparently he wasn’t a navigator on a fishing boat, he was a pilot and a samurai warrior, and he was fucking murked by his samurai buddy??? And while that earth-shattering revelation is still fresh in your mind, Hermit Dude reads the rest of the Goat Message. Apparently it’s from a princess, and she’s asking Hermit Dude for help in a massive civil war that’s been going on. She says this goat is a Very Important Goat, and it’s carrying information that’s essential to the war effort that could restore prosperity to the entire world.

Hermit Dude then immediately sits back, looks you in the eye and without preamble says, “You’re going to have to learn how to be a samurai warrior if you’re gonna come with me to the big city and help this chick and save the war effort.” And you’re like “??? learn?? to be a samurai?? Big city?? What in the frick frack paddywack are you babbling about? Listen dude I got shit to do, I can’t just go off on this wild goat chase. But look, if it means so much to you I’ll give you a lift to the nearest town so you can go on your own.”

But on the way to town, you come across those traveling merchants you bought the goat and ostrich from - all dead, their caravan trashed. “This wasn’t the gang,” Hermit Dude says, “The government did this, and made it look like it was gang activity. They were looking for your Goat Message.” You race back home, only to find the smoldering remains of your farm, and the charred skeletons of your family laid out on the doorstep.

With nothing to do, nowhere else to call home, and a newfound revenge-driven fury in your chest, you return to Hermit Dude and say, “Make me a samurai like my apparently-murdered father, yo-yo master Hermit Dude. I’ll go help the war effort with you like the princess asked.”

So you all head off to this shady-ass small town run by crime lords. The government is already there, looking for the goat, and Hermit Dude hypnotizes these two military guys like it’s no big deal, sooooo apparently he can just do that? Okay, neat, neat, neat. Hermit Dude then chops somebody’s fucking arm off right in front of you in a bar fight (what the fuck), and long story short you end up selling your car so you can hitch a clandestine ride to the Big City in this fast-talking cowboy’s RV, which looks like it’s held together with spit and duct tape. Cowboy Guy’s best friend is this 7-foot-tall dude with so much hair and beard that he could probably hide weapons in it. The military arrives and you barely make it out of the parking garage, and you end up in a fucking car chase before you make it to the highway and get the hell outta dodge.

BUT THEN you finally arrive at the Big City, and it’s gone. There’s nothing there, just the ruined wasteland of nuclear rubble where the government dropped the bomb (which by the way was JUST invented). And as far as you know that’s??? Never happened before?? So, that’s terrifying. (Also keep in mind your home was razed and your family was brutally murdered like less than 24 hours ago so THAT’S still fresh.)

There’s one little government truck that sees you and takes off. Cowboy is like “Let’s shoot their tires out before they go report to somebody,” but there isn’t anybody around to report to. EXCEPT FOR THE CITY-SIZED BATTLE STATION ON WHEELS THAT ABDUCTS YOU, RV AND ALL. What the fuck is this? Since when did this exist??? They pull the RV into their parking garage, but you hide under the floor panels, surprise-attack some soldiers and steal their uniforms. You sneak into a control room, hoping to shut down the station’s power and escape, but while Hermit Dude goes to cut some power cords, you notice some records lying around. And, hey, what’s this? The princess that wrote the Goat Message? She’s here on Massive Battle Station? SCHEDULED TO BE EXECUTED??? Well, of course you can’t let that happen! Cowboy is grumpy about it but you manage to convince him.

Using your military disguises, you manage to find and save the princess from her cell, almost get crushed to death in a trash compactor while escaping from the prison section, and arrive back at the parking garage pursued by hordes of soldiers - only to witness Hermit Dude, your only remaining link to your home and your old life, get sliced in actual half right in front of you. 

There’s another one for Trauma Bingo!

(P.S. you’ve also now killed several government soldiers in your escape. You’ve now killed people. You’re a killer.)

You manage to escape in the Duct Tape RV with Cowboy, Beard, Princess, Ostrich and Goat, but you’re followed by some government cars. You climb up on the roof to engage in an at-speed shootout with them, because after the last 36 hours, this is the least weird thing you’ve done. Firefight with government forces? Yeah, sure, what the hell. No big deal, honestly.

So now not only are you family-less and homeless, but you’re DEFINITELY on some sort of government list of known criminals. Guess there’s no going back now; you’re part of the rebels whether you want to be or not! Thankfully you’ve still got that grief-driven justice quest going on, doubly compounded by witnessing the murder of your mentor.

The RV makes it to the secret base where the rebels have been hiding. The Very Important Goat is finally delivered, and it coughs up plans for the gigantic battle station. So far, so good. Except, curses! The government tracked you here! Looks like the fight happens now. Game on, jackass government. Game on. “That’s impossible!” cries one pilot, to which you reply, “Nah, I basically did it all the time back home.” You sign up to fight: a pilot, like your dead samurai dad. 

Why was a 19 year old civilian with some bush-plane experience (??) allowed to sign up to fly a fighter plane? We’ll never know.

Also, the goat comes on the plane with you.

Cowboy collects his payment and takes off, which you’re not happy about, but at least you’re reunited with your BFF from back home. So at least you have one single connection to home left.

Until he dies. RIP.

You try blowing up the Enormous Battle Station the normal way, but the disembodied spirit of Hermit Dude appears in your head and tells you to use your Magical Samurai Powers. You do, and succeed in blowing up the Big-Ass Battle Station just as Cowboy arrives again to take out the Big Baddie who killed Hermit Dude. The Traveling Nuke Factory is destroyed, the evil government has taken a big blow, and you get a shiny medal in a ceremony with your new friends.

So, let’s recap. In the last, oh, 2.5 days or so, you’ve gone from living your everyday life to seeing everything you know and love destroyed, to becoming a traitor to the evil government and a rebel, to fighting in (and winning) an intense military battle thanks to your fledgling Magic Powers, to now being the poster child of the rebellion.

You need therapy.

But at least the goat’s okay.

[aliypop]

The Devil’s Star Prt 2

Wordcount : 1,992

Warning : Panic Attack, usual show violence 

A/N: Part 2 of The Devils  Star, if you haven’t watched the Defenders then slight Spoilers.  The amazing Addie goes to @herosneednotapply​

"Where have you been!" a handmaid shouted, scurrying the soon-to-be bride through the alabaster walls and marble flooring of the Vanderpomp family. A family whose money ran so old it's said they lived in immortal wealth,  "I've been around..." Yonah sighed, looking down at her engagement ring. "Your wedding's today, and you aren't even ready..." feet nearly flying up pearl-encrusted steps and stopping in her what would be dressing room, Her suit now draped in the purest of a white silk couture dress. And her loose curls in a bun. "You look beautiful,"  the words that any father would say on their daughter's big day: of course, if they orchestrated the ensemble together,  photographers and journalists snapped pictures as she plastered a fake smile, the image of a picture-perfect woman stood before them but in the inside was a storm. 

"Are you alright?" Bruce asked,  

"Get down..." she turned, blasting two ninjas in the face. "This dress is shit fighting in." ripping the tight fabric at the seams, the train cape still attached. "Yonah, that was limited edition and custom." Bruce shook his head. Twirling one of the closet rack rails, she looked back at her father, noticing that he had already gone. 

"The hand... will take Hell's Kitch-"  the rail lodged between both their eyes,  blood pooling at her red bottom bridal shoes. 

"I have to go, Theodore..." she sighed, watching him look at her dress, his slicked-back red hair matching the jewel in the hand-shaped pin of his tie. "What... but my beloved?" he reached out for her, "You don't want this as much as I don't." she sighed, turning her back to the sounds of the camera's flashing, her motorcycle in the winds of Gotham. Pink lights sped on the highway and over the George Washington Bridge, through upper manhattan to, 

"Hey babe, smile for us."

"Hell's kitchen..." she growled, her heel on the man's nose: A hand grabbed hers, leading her into an alleyway, and later the inside of a Chinese restaurant. 

"Get your hands off-" 

"Hey, asshole with my scarf on his face, whose the runaway bride?" 

"This is Yo-" 

"I can speak for myself," she grunted, "Names Yonah Shanel Wayne."

"Weren't you supposed to get married today, names, Danny, by the way?" he stuck his hand out. "Soft subject, nice to meet you." she began walking to the table, kicking her heels off, a confused look on her face.

 "See, someones a bit bitchy... daddy issues? " 

"Jessica... Sorry about her, I'm Luke Cage." the tall, possibly, gentle giant said, 

"None taken. I have a twin sister who's edgy too." as the group looked over at Mr. blindfold, they were all growing furious to know who exactly he was or what he did. "What's your name..." 

"You don't need to know, okay... I work alone and-" 

"Bullshit Murdock..." 

"You have no power over me, okay..." 

"You sure about that, Daredevil," she threw a fireball at him." her tongue stuck out at him. The room got quiet as to what she said.

"That's it-" 

"HEY, no fighting until we understand why the hell we're all here," Jessica said, getting between the two. " Is that pork..." Danny asked, standing next to Luke and Matt. "That's shrimp. He's carrying pork." 

"YES!" 

"Could you pass me that potsticker, please? Yonah asked, watching as Luke passed the plate.

 "Oh, and the noodles and-" 

"They don't feed you, rich kids?" Jessica snarked. 

"Well, when you have powers like mine, sweetie, it makes you hungry." she sassed as both Danny and Matt continued eating; the conversation about the hand began to start, and standing there was, "Stick?" 

Standing in an abandoned Opera house were Stick, Yonah, Jessica Luke,  and Danny took it upon themselves to fight each other like a wild beast over pieces of meat. As Stick watched, It only reminded Yonah of her brothers, immature and inadequate to ever prove they could work together. The only thing breaking them apart was the sound of a head being sliced clean off its shoulder.

 "Did your old man ever teach you that? "

"No, but, uh, my Butler did..." she stepped over the headless body, her train now drenched in blood. "Remind us to stop by and get you something to fight in." Luke chuckled, watching as he could feel Matt's jealous rage over her newfound sibling bond. 

"What do you mean, you didn't marry her..." Alexandra sat at the table, Sowande's head as the centerpiece, her great times five grandson standing in front of her. "You were supposed to distract her from ever returning..." she began to pace around him, "Why is it that she was spotted with Stick and not with you?" Theodore stood there, sweat forming on his face in complete silence was the only noise he could make out of his mouth,  "She's not what we thought..." he mumbled, his hands nearly trembling, "She took down two of your men with a closet rack bar..." he stated as Alexandra laughed, "I'm aware..." her back turned towards him,  

"You know I have a door..."  Addie sighed, watching the familiar silhouetted woman on her fire escape. "Could've sent me a wedding invitation... could've told me you were alive." Yonah sighed, "I know I could've, but that's not why I'm here." she stood up, "The Hand uh attacked me before my wedding, and-" Addie shoved a bag in her arms, "Change into this then we'll talk, besides shit kicker 3,000's don't go with couture. " Addie sighed, "Tracking blood on my fire escape... you know better."  she walked off. "And I better not read about your wedding in the newspaper again!" Yonah chuckled, changing into her super suit. Nothing had changed except maybe the walls and the couch and one of Franks's guns sitting on the table, "Yeah, he left that here, meant to return it... now, why are you here." Yonah took a deep breath. "The Hand, they're going to destroy everything we love, and we need to keep you guys safe." 

"So you said The Hand, like the organization you thought that to join, you had to lose a hand that one? " 

"I was younger then, and yes, that one..." She groaned, "Look, I fought ninjas in red bottoms with a moody, I think lesbian, just to try to keep you safe!"

"Oh, so you're not working alone..." Addie rolled her eyes, "Figured, is the altar boy still uh out there in the red pajama's" Yonah grumbled, "I refuse to get into that with you, So to the end that we're going to Harlem." Addie groaned, " Food great, people, great meeting Josaphine Baker great, getting shot at 10 pm in the hood not great."  she sighed, watching as the suited hero glared at her, "Fine, but I'm not taking any of my good bags, They steal out there." 

"They steal everywhere. it's New York." Yonah smiled. 

"Mmm, Now you look like a princess power ranger."  Jessica laughed, looking at the pink and white eyesore in front of her, "You're about to see a princess fight." Yonah nearly launched at Jessica, her hands growing pink flames as Luke scooped her up like a kid having a tantrum. "Calm down little bit, fighting her, ain't worth it. we're on the same team."  he later pulled her to the side, "We gotta do this tog- Where'd you get that sword from?" Yonah's eyes looked down the alleyway, standing in front of her in a button-down shirt and his tuxedo pants were, "Miss me, darling." he pulled out a cutlass sword, 

 "Theodore..." Yonah groaned, "Let's hope you last longer fighting than in bed. " she lunged at him, watching his handwork and form. Theodore dodged her strike dropping his sword. Yonah took his fist, twisting it behind his back sword pressed his neck. "You know the hand will win..."  he whispered in her ear, "And you know we'll Fight..." Yonah let him go. 

"Found out that the man you were gonna marry was a monster, eh?" Stick noticed the changing moods of Yonah, "Lucky you found out now." he turned to face Danny, who was tied up in a chair and kept watch by Luke. "I'm kinda digging the outfit, better than the deranged barbie doll thing." he smiled at her, 

"Thanks." Yonah nodded, "So where's everyone..." her grip on her sword tight.

 "Gone..." 

"We know that..." sword clashing to the ground as the smoke around them grew thick. There stood Jessica and Matt, and "Elektra..." Matt mumbled, the corpse of his ex nearly beating him to shreds. Luke and Jessica joined only to follow suit with Matt. Yonah Lunged at Elektra, who only gave her a quick blow to the face. Back at the Harlem Police Office sat Addie next to Yonah's unconscious body across the couch from Matt. Her eyes sized him up in his tight NYPD shirt, "Matthew..." Addie rolled her eyes, "Addie..." his tone was vulnerable and nervous. Yonah gasped all the while Matt could hear her heart starting back up, "By the way, Claire patched you up..." her tone directed to Yonah, but the words geared at Matt.

 "I didn't know she was here..." 

"I did." Foggy raised his hand, his gaze on Yonah, whose hands were in her hair nearly destroyed her wedding up-do. "None of this happened until you came into my li-"  Matt rushed by Yonah's side. He could hear her heart beating faster and the blood through her veins racing. Her eyes focused on the grey sweatpants, which smelled of Gunpowder and the faint smell of her perfume, touching: the sweatshirt on her body, her brown irises turned pink, "Where's my suit...I can't lose it and my amulet ... wha...what do I.. I-I-"  she began to stutter all while Matt held her hand. 

"I took it so the detectives wouldn't use it." Addie sighed, "And your amulet. "Foggy handed it to her, "Is right here, uh interesting choice of uh sweatshirt." Yonah looked down at the writing on it. " It was the quickest thing I could find."  Addie sighed. 

"I knew Murdock was here, but nobody told me that Gothams D.A. was here too,"  Misty smirked, 

"The one and only," Yonah said through sniffles, as Foggy mouthed, "You got this."  

"What's with the sweatshirt?" Jessica asked, the four of them sitting on the subway,  "What's wrong with it?"  Yonah looked over at Jessica, tired in the face, 

"Isn't The Punisher a psychopath or something?" 

"May I add those are his sweatpants," Matt smirked. Yonah looked down, "I knew these were too big to be mine." she mumbled under her breath, " So I see you like having coffee with the big boys, huh." Luke smirked, " I ain't mad at cha." Both Jessica and Yonah blushed, 

"Hey, what's a monster until ya love it, huh." 

"I thought you drank tea- Oh..." Matt peered over his glasses.  

"You know you're not too old to end up like your great grandmother... of what was it five times?" Elektra rolled her eyes as Theodore growled at her, "Who made you in charge of The Hand." he stepped up towards her, his chest puffed out, " I did..." her sai pointed at his chest, "Keep talking, and I will stab you." she glared, Gao sighed raising her hand silencing them both. 

"Red's calling ya..."

"Great.." 

Yonah sighed, "I'll answer it, just give me a second..." she breathed, her mind flashing to Theodore's beheaded body at her feet, the tears Foggy and Karen cried the sleepless nights Addie and Yonah tried to look for his body amongst the rubble. The fact that Yonah had begun to rebuild her life and now here he was calling to tell her, "The Devil's back, and there's hell to pay..." Matt said, 

"I saw you die!" she nearly whispered screamed, trying not to get Franks attention,

 "I'll explain it on your way here..."

"Explain what..." 

"Your sisters back in town..."

[ocw-archive]

A Night in the Life of Owen Wilson - Premiere Magazine, December 2002

by Christine Spines

The curiously refreshing star sets off an impromptu tour of his old Dallas stomping grounds with no idea where it will lead.

No more than ten minutes have passed since he appeared on my hotel lobby couch, slouching like a kid who'd just been grounded for a month. Now we're riding through the streets of Dallas on an impossibly hot September night, and suddenly we're skyrocketing. Owen Wilson has just issued the mandate, a towering challenge that will test the skills and resources available to us at 10 p.m. on Labor Day. "You know what? Let's just make this great," he said, flooring his brother Luke's late-model Cadillac out of the hotel parking lot. "We're going to make this the best there ever was. People won't know what happened to them after reading this story. It's going to change lives, change the world as we know it. This thing is going to be great because we're going to make it that way!"

His eyes are twinkling like new toys. It's hard not to believe that he can make great things happen just because he wills them to be so. As pained and put upon as he first was by the prospect of taking time away from a long weekend at his parents' house to be interviewed, the 34-year-old actor is unwilling or unable to let the experience pass without mining it for whatever drama or adventure it may hold. The car's outdoor thermometer reads 98 degrees, and Wilson devises a plan on the fly as we sail past the crowded trattoria he just nixed from the agenda. Too stuffy. "Do you like ice cream?" asks Wilson, wearing khakis, an untucked black T-shirt, and ankle boots that sometimes catch the hem of his pants. "I'll take you to a place I've been going to a lot. I got into going and getting smoothies in Los Angeles. But then I was thinking that maybe smoothies aren't that good for you. Have you ever thought of that, that smoothies are nature's cancer?"

Wilson is not actually health-conscious. He is acutely conscious, though, that neurotic behavior in a seemingly laid-back guy like him is always good for a laugh. In fact, he's built his career on crafting these casually eccentric characters ever since stepping in front of the camera in Bottle Rocket as Dignan, the irrepressible outlaw naïf who seeks to find substance, excitement, and a career in a life of crime. Wilson cowrote the movie with director Wes Anderson, whom he met in a playwriting workshop at the University of Texas, and the two went on to collaborate on the screenplays for Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums, creating a menagerie of funny-sad characters whose outsize passions and foibles can never be contained by the worlds they inhabit.

The same might be said of Wilson, who has spent the past eight years volleying between the spirited art films he cowrites and the high-concept studio affairs that have transformed him from a scene-stealing bit player into a bankable headliner. In a series of small roles in summer spectacles and event movies following Bottle Rocket, Wilson managed to upstage Jim Carrey (The Cable Guy) and Robert De Niro (Meet the Parents), and provided badly needed moments of effortless humor in Anaconda, Armageddon, and The Haunting. When Wilson applied his offbeat characterizations, astute satire, and script tinkering to his first big-budget starring roles, in Shanghai Noon, Zoolander, and Behind Enemy Lines, he scored a trifecta of critically praised sleeper hits. This winter he's partnering with Eddie Murphy for I Spy and Jackie Chan for the Shanghai Noon sequel, Shanghai Knights. Then he'll star opposite Morgan Freeman in The Big Bounce, based on the Elmore Leonard novel.

Still, Wilson has yet to fully embrace acting, a career he stumbled into. He's mortified by the idea of displaying any typical "actorly" traits. "Smoking is obnoxious," he says, pulling onto the highway. "It just fits the profile of some young actor driving, like, an old Mustang with a cigarette. It's like, did you ever see Barfly? And this is actually kind of a cliché to talk about Bukowski. But I love the part in that movie where Mickey Rourke talks about the bartender who just stole his girlfriend, saying, 'Why did it have to be Eddie? He symbolizes everything that disgusts me: obviousness, unoriginal macho energy, ladies man.' "

Wilson checks the rearview mirror repeatedly. He had a run-in with the police earlier today riding shotgun while Luke was pulled over for speeding, and he amazingly managed to talk the officer out of the ticket. "I've developed a really good method for talking to cops," he says. "I used to get so many moving violations in Dallas, and then not pay the tickets and get arrested, that I've developed a really good rap, which is kind of like, 'Look how crazy this all is. Here we are . . .' You just go off his expression and try to get him to laugh." It's hard to imagine a Texas cop pocketing his ticket pad just because Owen Wilson made him laugh by inviting him along for the ride. But that seems to be what happened. "I said, 'Uh, sir, I've gotten a lot of tickets and I know I deserve it, and we deserve this one, but can I just say in my brother's defense that I was urging him to go faster. We're going to meet our dad. Luke has to go back to the airport,' " he says excitedly. He seems proud of the con, not for having gotten away with something but rather for having passed the ultimate test of his storytelling abilities.

Wilson's humour is all in the delivery. His off-tempo cadence and extravagant pauses combine with his slightly nasal voice, inflected with just a hint of a Lone Star drawl, to give him the baffling ability to transform the most mundane phrase or word into a hilarious joke the moment it leaves his lips. Case in point: not long after he arrives at the ice cream place, Wilson is hoisting a giant spoonful of chocolate chip gelato into his mouth when a couple of high school girls ask if they can take a picture with him. He needs to do no more than put down the spooon, grin, and say, "Well, allright!" and all the nearby tables erupt in peals of laughter. Why is that funny? Who knows. But the joke hit its mark perfectly, stashed in there somewhere between "all" and "right". It would be easy to assume, based on most of the evidence so far, that Wilson is the real-life imbodiment of all his movies with Anderson. But that story would be far too obvious and pedictable for Wilson. "I think of myself as a doom person", he says. "I'm a worrier. Like about movies and sustaining work. But I like the idea of being an optimist." He's self-aware enough to know that it's hard to reconcile the guy who showed up tonight determined to make it great with the guy who fears the party will be over before he's ready to leave. "Wes really stuck with "Bottle Rocket" when we had terrible test screenings. I was looking into joining the Army. I swear," he says, grabbing his keys, ready to move on and resuscitate the mood. "Maybe I'm the kind of optimist who deep down knows it's not going to work."

Wilson knows that every good story needs a worthy villain. And as a cocreator of tonight's experience, he knows what needs to be done. With that in mind, Wilson has decided to pay a visit to Harvey Goff's hamburger stand. A rundown, fluorescent-lit joint tucked into the fringes of an affluent Dallas neighborhood. Goff's seems to operate in its own world by its own rules. First, there is the sign declaring "America Won." And then there is Harvey Goff himself, a patriot of the highest order, a man known for tossing off withering insults to well-meaning customers.

Tonight Wilson has ostensibly come to settle a score. The last time he was here, Goff called him a dummy and kicked him out of his seat even though the entire restaurant was empty. But truly this is a thrill-seeking mission--so much so that when he learns that Goff is not here yet, he decided to order a burger and wait. Our caper now has become a stakeout, and Wilson is pumped. "You know, I think this is going pretty well," he says, devouring an enormous chili burger. "We're having some fun. I'm kind of energized, waiting for Harvey."

Wilson has developed a reputation for working well with, shall we say, challenging personalities. "I'm probably better with eccentric people than with someone who seems like they've got it all together," he says. He hit it off with two of Hollywood's most notoriously tempestuous directors. "Jan De Bont was really nice to me, and people said he might not be," he says of The Haunting's director. "I got along great with Michael Bay." Wilson has won over such commanding costars as Robert De Niro (Meet the Parents) and Gene Hackman (Behind Enemy Lines) by showing up on the set armed with a battery of devastatingly funny unscripted lines and a keen attention to his characters' quirky idiosyncrasies.

When star Ben Stiller suggested that Wilson play the Renaissance man ex-boyfriend opposite him in Meet the Parents, both director Jay Roach and costar Robert De Niro had trouble envisioning Wilson as the kind of wholesome beefcake the role seemed to demand. "Bob was kind of skeptical of Owen," Roach recalls. " I remember him saying, 'Ben is more athletic-looking than Owen.' And then when he worked with him, he completely got it. It one scene, the take that really killed everybody was when Ben Stiller goes, 'I'm a nurse,' and Owen's scripted line was 'Oh, that's interesting. I wanted to do some volunteer work, too.' But Owen just starts riffing, saying, 'Just the other day I was driving and saw this golden retriever that had a gimp.' He started describing his experience of seeing this dog and De Niro just kept losing it. It may have been the only day when he actually couldn't get a line out."

Wilson even managed to endear himself to his I Spy costar, Murphy, who has a reputation for being standoffish on set. "Neither one of them wanted to meet each other [before shooting], and I thought it could be a disaster," recalls director Betty Thomas of the duo, who play a boxer (Murphy) and an international spy (Wilson) who go undercover to scuttle a European arms dealer's nefarious plans by penetrating a fight he's organizing. "But I thought it would the be ultimate buddy move to have two types of comedy. Eddie goes for the joke. He knows where the joke is, and he goes for it. [Whereas] Owen can say a joke and you go, 'That might not be funny.' But with Owen saying it without treating it like a joke, it is funny."

Though undeniably a broad comedy intended for the widest possible swath of moviegoers, I Spy experiments with a post-modern approach of combining the old grand master of the buddy comedy (Murphy) and the new (Wilson). Every era has a maverick comedian who defined what was funny to a particular generation. After Trading Places and 48 Hrs., Murphy was considered subversive and was constantly quoted in the '80s college dorm rooms in the same way that Wilson's self-styled lines have become today's all-purpose punch lines. Just try not to laugh while saying this classic that Wilson wrote for his bit part in Anaconda: "Is it just me, or does the jungle make you really, really horny?"

It was in the mystical realm of the comic imagination that the I Spy stars connected on their first day of shooting together. "I was nervous around him because he's really quick and funny, and it was hard to figure out how I was going to fit in," Wilson says. "We were sitting in a car about to come into this big party, so there were mounted guards on horses. We don't know each other very well so it's kind of uncomfortable because it's just us, and Eddie says, ' I wonder what horses think.' He wasn't saying it to be funny, but it's the exact type of thing I like to think about. So I was like, ' Yeah, I wonder what they do think.' I could see that as kids we probably would have gotten along."

Wilson's ability to tap into the mind-set of his younger self may be the source of his ability to reinvent standard-issue roles as singular characters whose lines often out-funny the rest of the script. Even in a broad comedy like I Spy, Wilson signed on to a heroic secret agent role that he had no intention of playing. "My first thought was to try to change the script and make it something I could relate to by making my spy not such a tough guy," he says. "That was something I could see myself playing."

Thomas first envisioned him for the role after going to the premiere of Shanghai Noon and witnessing his bloodhound ability to dig up the funny in any line he's given. But there is an ineffable quality to Wilson's appeal: an inexplicable desire to laugh at the moment the camera lands on him. Strangely, Thomas is either unwilling or incapable of expressing what she responded to in his performance that made "this Owen dude" a perfect foil to Murphy. "[It's] because I don't think he's normal," Thomas offers, curtly. Silence. Well, what is normal? "Normal is when people go after the joke, and Owen goes aggressively against the joke."

Wilson, on the other hand, is the rare comedian who has no trouble laying out his own laws of levity. "Our humor comes from insecurities or earnestness," he says, referring to the writing he does with Anderson. "What I mean by earnest is that I'm not interested in jokes, or people, like, telling jokes. I've never gone to a comedy club. I think stuff that's funny is stuff in real life. It's like some earnestly trying to talk rather that looking to make a joke. A lot of stuff I describe as funny is really sad."

We've been here for nearly an hour when a loud screech echoes across the parking lot just beyond our table. Harvey Goff hops out of his shiny white sedan. Wilson's back straightens as he whispers, "Look at him, he's got a gun." Sure enough, the tall, fiftyish man in a perfect crew cut is marching toward us armed with a glare and a fat pistol stuffed in the back of his polyester slacks.

Owen: Harvey! How's it goin'?

Harvey: [scowling] You writin' a book?

Owen: I've brought a friend I'd like to introduce you to. She's a journalist.

Harvey: Friend? That's not a friend. That's just another beast you brought in from the woods.

It's hard to fathom another circumstance in which I could be called a "beast from the woods" and genuinely laugh it off. But Wilson's obvious delight in the purity of this man's ill temper is contagious. Hanging out with Wilson is like entertaining the fable-like world of one of his collaborations with Anderson, where people's foibles are never suspect and always celebrated.

It's nearing midnight and Wilson grows quiet as he drives off from Goff's. "It was going into places like this that we got Kumar in the movie," he says, referring to Kumar Pallana, the diminutive Indian man who has appeared in each of the Wilson-Anderson movies, most recently as Pagoda the butler in The Royal Tenenbaums. "Kumar worked at this place we eat, the Cosmic Cup." He drives for a few minutes in silence. "You want to go?"

Wilson clearly holds a deep nostalgia and affection for the simpler days of making Bottle Rocket and his collaborations with Anderson, which have become less frequent as Wilson dedicates more time to his acting career. "I think Bottle Rocket means the most to me," he says, "because it was the first movie, and it's got so much of me and Luke and Wes in it."

By all accounts, Wilson is a world-class collaborator, partner-in-crime, buddy. As we've seen tonight, he's a guy who can be relied upon to show up and try to make it great. "He's a really fun person to hang around as a guy friend," says Ben Stiller, who cast Wilson in The Cable Guy and then appeared with him in Permanent Midnight, Meet the Parents, Zoolander, The Royal Tenenbaums and a forthcoming Starsky and Hutch. "It's definitely a childlike quality. I don't mean he's not mature. But it's a way of working that is just like having fun with your friends and making up things. And what you do together is always better than what you get separately."

It was in this spirit of mutual inspiration and power in numbers that Wilson and Anderson conceived of Bottle Rocket. "Wes and I were roommates, and we wanted to try to write a movie together because he wanted to direct. I was an English major and had written some short stories, and I saw a ton of movies," he says, parking on a side street near the Cosmic Café, as the establishment is now called, a small converted house painted in a mosaic of wildly colorful Indian deities, where he and Anderson would often write. "Wes had the title Bottle Rocket, and we had the characters, and so then it was trying to spin a story out around them." For a time, Anderson says, "Owen didn't think it was a good idea for him or Luke to be in it. He thought we should have real actors, and that it would somehow make us unprofessional. But obviously, no one was going to be as good as Owen."

The first moment he stepped in front of a camera, any self-consciousness evaporated immediately. "He's the most naturally gifted actor I've ever seen", says Polly Platt, who produced Bottle Rocket with James L. Brooks (Terms of Endearment). "It was mainly because I knew he had no training. Their mother visited the set one day and said to me, ' How can you just let them make a movie?' and I said 'They're going to be movie stars'".

Wilson insists that his life remains relatively untouched by the changed brought with the realization of Platt's prophecy. But when asked how is screenwriting process with Anderson has changed with each project, he's clearly conflicted about what it says about him and who he is as an artists that he's allowed his acting career to push his screenwriting with Anderson into the margins. "[During] Bottle Rocket we were living together. Rushmore and Tenenbaums, it was just trying to find the time…" he trails off. "I don't know how to type or use the computer so Wes would do that stuff. I'd use notebook paper or say it out loud or send it to Wes," he says, brushing his shaggy blond hair out of his eyes. " I should write more. Writing's hard." He looks heartbroken when asked about their next project together, in which, tellingly, Wilson will participate as an actor, but not a writer. "Wes has a story about an oceanographer that he came up with a long time ago. He has an idea or me and Bill Murray to play this father-son thing," says Wilson. "He's writing it. When he gets a draft done, he'll show it to me and maybe I can, uh, be helpful as an actor."

Sitting on the steps of the closed Cosmic Café, Wilson brightens when he spots and Indian man emerging from the back door. "Sir!" he yells, grinning. "Do you ever talk with Kumar?" The man eyes us suspiciously. " I think Kumar is at the multiplex right now," the man says with a hint of scorn. This is the kind bittersweet moment full of irony and pathos and humor Wilson could easily have written into any of his movies, and right now he's savoring it. " I don't think he was disdainful," the actor giggles. "It was more like, ' Oh, you poor guy, just sitting around wondering what Kumar was doing.'"

The mischievous middle child of transplanted New England liberals--his mother, Laura, is a photographer who used to work with Richard Avedon; his father, Robert, ran the Dallas PBS station before launching an advertising business--Wilson was the kid who always took supreme pleasure in getting away with something. But Wilson's scamartistry was never an act of malice or rebellion. It was simply a way he'd devised to keep himself engaged, interested, and inspired as he made his way through the St. Marks School of Texas, a prestigious prep school. The role of troublemaker also happened to be one that that was available. His older brother, Andrew (an actor who appeared in Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums), "was the hero of the family--a great athlete, dated the prettiest girls. Luke and I really looked up to him," Wilson says. " I don't think I was the clown. My dad was the funny person of the family. I was kind of thought as being creative...and getting into trouble."

His most defining moment came in the tenth grade, when he was kicked out of St. Marks for stealing his geometry teacher's textbook to expedite his math homework. Following that incident (which might explain the comic-tragic fate he and Anderson later wrote for Rushmore's Max Fischer, who was also expelled from his beloved academic haven), Wilson suffered the greatest indignity of all: a stint in public school. "I like not studying and being lazy and goofing off when I knew that wasn't the thing to do," he says, but he didn't enjoy being " at a school where no one cared, no one does homework, and no one was like, 'Owen's special' anymore." He then opted for a place that made even less sense: military school. " I graduated private first class, lowest-ranking person in my grade," he says of his two year stint at New Mexico Military Institute. "If you look at your life as a story, I kind of like the fact that I went to military school."

It's after 1 A.M. and Wilson is now back at the hotel, splayed out on the lobby couch. He checks his cell phone. He's missed a call from a woman he was hoping to meet up with later. He silently considers his options and decided that he's not yet ready to give up on our interview. "We made a commitment at the beginning of the night and I'll be damned if I'm going to waver," he says. "I'm going to finish strong! I want the record to show that we're here and we're doing our best to figure out what makes this guy tick." Abruptly, he cuts himself off. " I only wish the article could be like this. They never sound how our actual exchange was."

Wilson approaches his every role with a similar alchemy of excitement and dread. " I never dreamed I'd be an actor I always though I would be a writer," he says. After being cast opposite Jackie Chan in Shanghai Noon, the move sent his career sailing into the mainstream, he was in no mood for celebrating. " I was in Dallas trying to work with Wes and I was freaking out, like, 'This is going to be a total disaster.'"

The feeling was mutual for director Tom Dey when he started receiving faxed, hand-written ideas for the film's opening scene from Wilson, weeks before production began. "I got nervous because I didn't know him, and the scene read like a really conceited actor writing his entrance full bravura. [His concept for his character] was like a rock star in a bed full of hookers," Dey says. "And I'm thinking 'Oh, no!' But I wasn't reading it knowing Wilson's sense of humor and the tongue-in-cheek nature of it."

Ultimately, Wilson's I'm-a-lover-not-a-fighter interpretation made it into the movie. But his most enduring brainstorm came during production while dining with Chan one night and watching him play rapid-fire drinking games with the stuntmen. "Owen saw that and said 'We gotta put that in the movie,'" says Dey of what became Shanghai Noon's signature bathtub scene. " I wouldn't have known how to put that in. That's the difference between Owen and someone else."

Wilson finally was able to learn to stop worrying and love his job while making Shanghai Knights, Noon's sequel, which takes the original characters to Europe on a quest to avenge the murder of Shanghai Kid's father. " I already knew [the characters], so I didn't have to fight any battles in myself or with other people," Wilson says. "I could just keep figuring out funny situations and lines."

"Some of the most brilliant stuff in the movie is Owen off the top of his head," says Knights director David Dobkin (Clay Pigeons). "He has the ability to manipulate the written word and make it his own. In one scene, when Jackie says, ' This woman wants to sleep with me,' Owen who has popped movies. He would fit into that world."

Anderson's opinion is one of two in this world that seem to matter most to Wilson. (The other is his mother's.) He seems to regard Anderson and their work together as the true expression of his best self. The struggle now is to find creative ways to find a connection between his two alternate universes. " I don't feel like I'm a hundred times happier than when I first started going to the Cosmic Cup," Wilson says. He rolls his eyes skyward, ponderously demanding answers from the deities. "Can't we petition someone to make it so that outside stuff is the key to happiness? I'm tired of people always saying, 'It's gotta come from you!' Can't it come from, like, a new pair of shoes?"

Wilson's eyes are now marbled red and his body is slightly listing to the left. No one could have predicted at the beginning of the night that his lofty ambitions for this interview experience would test endurance, heart, and spirit the way it has. " I was making a joke in the beginning of the night. My lord, I didn't know we were going to be slouching towards Bethlehem here," he says, sitting up straight, fortifying himself. "Let's push forward. One more topic."

There is a searching sincerity to Wilson that flickers on and off throughout the night between jokes. He wants to know what my impression of him was, based on his movies (innocent, unjaded, romantic). He likes that, "romantic," but "I'd have to say I'm probably a better friend than boyfriend," says the actor, who has been single for the past year. His last long-term relationship was that with singer Sheryl Crow, whom he lived after meeting on the set of the 1999 indie thriller, The Minus Man. "We're still friends," he says, averting his eyes.

Fortunately, he is not the kind of actor who makes apologies for enjoying the social perks of his job. He seemed briefly but genuinely disappointed when he missed that cell phone call earlier tonight from a woman he'd met today "while eating a taco." Picking up women at taco stands! There's got to be a better way! "It wasn't a taco stand," he corrects with a grin. "It was, like, a sit-down place." He's made the young actor's requisite pilgrimage to the Playboy mansion. " I had a great time," he says. "It was like a pajama party, so the girls were wearing lingerie and you just kind of walk through the grotto. It's not so different from anything else."

Wilson understands that what makes him different is the source of his power onscreen. But he remains surprisingly tender about the subject of his most outwardly unconventional attribute, his nose. Wilson is widely admired and desired for proving that an aquiline nose is not a job requirement for being a bankable leading man. His nose, which remains unfixed after being broken once in the ninth grade and again in a college football accident, is distinctly asymmetrical, with a slightly cubist effect of shifting shape depending on the side from with it's shot. It is the think that makes women want him and men want to be like him: comfortable with who he is. And yet all signs of that defiant spirit vanish when he's asked about his most distinguishing feature a week later over breakfast in Los Angeles. "Can't you read about that some place?" he asks quietly, with a wounded look that seems to ask, "How could you?" We came within reach of making it great but now a pact has been broken. The unexpected depths of Wilson's vulnerability have flooded the room. " I never knew my nose was, like,… I guess because no one would say something until recently. Most people are too polite, so I was able to go along cheerfully thinking I was fine. And then I've had to confront this issue."

In truth, the confrontation is primarily an internal one, between the ardent individualist and the sensitive writer who stumbled into the glare of movie stardom. And though this is undoubtedly an uncomfortable moment form which we will never recover any of the shimmering abandon of our Dallas escapade, this slip into the melancholy is perhaps the most authentic way to close a story by or about Owen Wilson--unexpected, unordinary, original. He'd have it no other way.

[katymacsupernatural]

The Proposal Chapter 8

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Story Summary:

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

After the proposal from Jensen he was pulled into welcoming arms, congratulations floating through the air. You stood there at first, awkwardly watching as he was patted on the back. About ready to turn and get a drink, he surprised you when he reached out, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against him.

“These are for you as well,” he insisted, smiling so deeply down at you that for a moment you could imagine that this was real and you were actually his fiancee, not just a woman paid to pretend.

You stayed snuggled against his side, smiling wide as all the guests came up and offered their well wishes. A glass of wine was given to me, and I sipped at it, watching in awe as Jensen laughed and seemed to turn into a completely different man than I had become accustomed to. It was refreshing to see him away from his acting.

Your phone buzzed in your purse, and you pulled it out to see your brother’s name on the phone. “I need to take this,” you whispered to Jensen and he nodded, releasing his hold on you. 

“Hurry back,” he insisted, creating a whole new round of ooh’s and aah’s from the crowd. Wanting to roll your eyes, you made your way through the smiling crowd, stepping out into the muggy Texas air. “Hey buddy, what’s up?” You said as soon as you answered, knowing something had to be up for him to call you this late at night. 

There were tears in his voice when he spoke up, his voice barely a whisper. “They’re talking of sending me away,” he whimpered. “They said I’m too much of a headache and they’ve heard of this military boarding school that will whip me into shape. Y/N, I don’t want to go!”

The news broke your heart. You knew that your Aunt and Uncle hadn’t taken in Luke because of the kindness of their heart. They had taken both of you in, quickly going through all of the tidy little nest egg your parents had saved. You had been able to skip out as soon as you turned 18, but Luke was still under their control, and broke your heart. “No, they can’t. They promised,” you exclaimed, a tear slipping down your cheek. “They said they’d keep you with them as long as I needed them too.”

“They’ve changed their mind,” he cried. “I’m not supposed to know, but they were talking about it at dinner tonight.”

“And where were you?”

“In my room,” his voice was tiny. “They said I didn’t do all of my chores, so I went to bed without dinner.”

You wanted nothing more than to head over and pull him away as soon as you could. But there was paperwork, and a court visit. And that all cost money, more than you had saved at the moment. “Luke, promise me you’re doing everything you can to placate them.”

“I am. But Y/N, I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to be with you,” he pleaded, breaking your heart. “When?”

“Soon,” you assured him, hoping it was true.

After hanging up, you leaned back against the wall, taking a deep breath, another tear slipping down your cheek. “Here I thought you would be ecstatic. After all, you were just proposed to. What’s up?” Jensen’s grandma said as she came to stand next to you.

“Just a little overwhelmed with everything,” you spoke carefully, not wanting to give anything away that would ruin this facade with Jensen. 

“I can see that,” she handed over a tissue. “After all, you’ve just snagged one of the hottest bachelors in the country. But I think it’s something more than that. Am I right?”

“You’re right,” you admitted. Jensen’s grandma was just so easy to talk to, and you needed that. Even if you didn’t tell her everything. “I just miss my brother.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. I take it he’s younger,” she seemed genuinely curious. 

“He’s ten. So sweet, so kind. He’s with my aunt and uncle, but isn’t very happy with it.”

“And your parents?” She asked.

“Gone. Car accident. But I think I need to get back in before I’m missed. Thanks for the shoulder,” you smiled at her before heading inside, hoping that you hadn’t said too much. But it had been so nice to finally talk to someone. 

“There you are,” Jensen exclaimed as soon as you stepped back in. One glance at your face and he stopped dead in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you assured him. “Just a little overwhelmed by everything.”

“I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, the comforting touch surprising. “Just a little bit longer before we’ll call it a night.”

You walked in with him, immediately offered another glass of wine and you sipped it, already feeling the alcohol mix with your nerves. Much more to drink and you would come to regret it in the morning. Jensen kept you by his side, always making sure you had a fresh drink in your hand, introducing you to so many people you lost track. 

Finally, you slipped away, perching at the bar, watching as he did his thing. You could hear a group of girls at the far end of the bar, trying to hush their voice but failing miserably. They were talking about you, how you didn’t seem to be Jensen’s type at all. You had expected the backlash, but it was still hard hearing it.

Jensen came over just as you were getting ready to stand up. “Everything okay?” He asked, and you nodded, trying to keep a smile on your face.”

“Listen, I’ve said our goodbyes. I think it’s time you and I head back to the house I think,” he explained, narrowing his eyes and searching your face, making you realize that maybe you weren’t doing the greatest job hiding your emotions.

“Are you sure?” You felt guilty for pulling him away from his party.

He nodded. “Yeah. I saw friends and family. Introduced you and proposed. I think that’s enough for tonight. Oh and we’re doing breakfast with the family tomorrow before we fly back.”

His hand was low on your back as he guided you through those that remained, smiling and waving before you were outside. It was raining lightly, but you didn’t mind. Jensen opened the door for you, and you slid into the car, leaning your head back against the smooth leather.

“So, what did you think?” He asked once he had the car on the highway.

“Everyone was so nice,” you answered, your eyes still closed. “I loved your grandma. And I think they bought the proposal.”

“You did great,” he assured you. “My Mom loves you. So does my grandma. I think we’ve accomplished everything we needed to this weekend.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, and as soon as he was parked in the garage you were out of the car, your shoes in your hands. “Goodnight,” you said, ready to head up and fall face first into that soft mattress upstairs.

“Wait!” He reached out, grasping your arm and pulling you into his chest. You stared up at him, wondering what he was up to. You didn’t have to wait long before his lips crashed down on yours, his body warm and tight against your own. 

Moaning, you let him take control, wondering what brought this on, but not caring. You had wanted to feel his lips against yours again, and it was happening. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered against your skin, stepping back as if you had burned him. 

“It’s alright,” your voice was soft, your lips swollen from his overpowering kiss.

He shook his head. “No. This is strictly professional. And we need to leave it as that,” he insisted before leaving you standing there in the garage, your mouth hanging slightly open.

Part 9

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @akshi8278   @bi-danvers0  @cap-just-said-language @colette2537​   @deansgirl215​  @flamencodiva​ @hamiltrash1411​ @its-not-a-tulpa​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @justanotherwinchester​ @just-another-winchester​ @karouwinchester​ @keikoraventeller​  @krys198478 @librarygeekery​ @magssteenkamp​ @misspygmypie​ @mlovesstories​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​  @mrspeacem1nusone​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @ria132love​ @ruprecht0420​  @screechingartisancashbailiff​   @sortaathief​ @superseejay721517​ @squirrelnotsam​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @torn-and-frayed​ @tricksterdean​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ @woodworthti666​ @beabutterfly987​

The Proposal Tags: @supraveng @vicmc624 @lottieellz101 @impala-dreamer @maddiepants @emilyshurley @tonystark-makes-me-cry @starryeyeseunbyul  @rach-12 @spnfamily-j2 @ima-be-a-mongoose @flamencodiva @compresshischest09 @parinarain  @stoneyggirl  @tftumblin @massivelycreepypineapple @posiemax @traceyaudette @peacedolantwins2 @eliwinchester99 @deans-baby-momma

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove   @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498  @closetspngirl @deanwanddamons @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008  @esoltis280   @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek  @heartislubbingdubbing @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99 @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean  @jayankles @jensen-gal @justsomedreaming @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork  @lowlyapprentice   @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93  @nanie5   @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25   @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing  @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman   @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek   @thewinchesterchronicles @voltage-my2dlove @vvinch3st3r  @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen

[allsassnoclass]

i blame it on the weather (can you make it better)

Pairing: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Key Tag(s): College AU, Cold, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word Count: 6,177

Read on AO3

A/N: this was tailor-made for @michaelownsmyheart​. I hope you like it darling <3 also big shout out to @clumsyclifford​ for looking this over and giving me Good Advice

—

Michael doesn’t remember the dorm being this cold when he left in December.  He doesn’t know how the space between him and Calum got that cold, either.

—

The drive back to campus feels shorter than normal, songs on the radio flying by with other cars on the highway the further Michael gets from his family and the closer he gets to the loneliness of an empty dorm.  Normally he wouldn’t mind having the place to himself, especially because that means he can blast music as loud as he wants and no one else is going to take the shower with the good water pressure, but there’s something foreboding about it now.

His phone is still empty of messages from the one person he’s been waiting to hear from.  Two weeks alone in the dorms wouldn’t be so bad if he had Calum on the other end of the line to keep him company.

He pulls into his parking spot right as snow begins to fall, a little earlier than predicted.  He sends a quick text to his parents to let them know he made it safe, then grabs his bags and makes the trek to his dorm.  It’s an older building elegantly nestled between the newer residence halls with better air conditioning or elevators that don’t break down every month, but there’s more character to it.  The other dorms are boxy and made of dark brick, but this one is lighter with turrets at the top and heavy wooden doors.  It looks more like a fantasy castle than a dorm building, and Michael’s mum had fallen in love with it immediately on their campus tour a few years ago.  Now that Michael is living here it’s lost some of its luster, but it’s also the only building to have single rooms, and while having Luke as a roommate turned out alright in the end last year, he likes being able to have the room to himself all of the time.

Michael fumbles for his key card to swipe himself in, biting off one of his gloves so he can get it out of his wallet.  Thick flakes land on his coat and hands, the kind that would probably be good for making snowmen if he still did stuff like that but that will be hell to drive in later.  Hopefully the roads will be clear enough by tomorrow, and he probably has some ramen that he never made from last semester that he can heat up for dinner tonight.

Inside doesn’t feel much warmer than outside, but there’s no snow or wind.  Michael stomps his feet in an attempt to get all of the snow off his boots, but freezes as soon as he glances up.

Nestled amongst the armchairs, big windows, fireplace, piano, and little side tables that make up the front lounge, Calum Hood stares back at him like a deer in headlights.  He’s got a notebook and pencil in his hand and a textbook open in front of him, blanket wrapped around his shoulders in a way that Michael wishes he were.  He looks exactly the same as he did when Michael last saw him a few weeks ago, except he’s fully clothed this time.  He looks good.  He looks cozy.

He looks like Michael is the last person he wants to see.

Michael clears his throat.

“I didn’t know you were back on campus,” he says.

“I’m taking a j-term and thought it’d be easier to focus here,” Calum replies, lifting the notebook halfheartedly.  “It’s a prereq for my chem class this semester.  It turns out that switching majors put me a bit behind this time.”

Michael nods.  Calum started as a music education major, then switched to an elementary education major before realizing he didn’t want to deal with little kids.  Now he’s studying to be a high school science teacher, which means he has a few freshman science classes he needs to squeeze into his schedule.  He hadn’t said anything about a j-term to Michael when he registered, but they also haven’t exactly been communicating much since before finals.

“I didn’t expect anyone back yet,” Calum says eventually.

“I got permission to come back early so I can take a few more shifts.  Gotta pay for college somehow, you know…”

Michael trails off, unbalanced and uncomfortable.  It feels wrong to be reacting like this around Calum, just like it felt wrong to not hear from him during finals or break, but after a few more moments of uncomfortable silence and chewing his lip he hefts his bag higher on his shoulder and makes an excuse about wanting to get his room back to rights.  He feels Calum’s eyes on him as he leaves, the weight of his gaze lingering even after Michael has entered the stairwell, dug out his key, and entered his room.  When he takes off his jacket he immediately reaches for a blanket, wrapping himself up and trying to suppress the shivers threatening to erupt throughout his body.

He doesn’t remember the dorm being this cold when he left in December.  He doesn’t know how the space between him and Calum got that cold, either.

-/-

Once he has a bowl of instant ramen in front of him and his stuff more or less put away, Michael calls Luke.

“Good morning,” Luke answers, a leftover joke gone stale from when they were roommates with opposite sleep schedules.  It almost makes him wish for a simpler time when Luke was forcing him to go places like Welcome Week events and they were literally running into people like Calum and Luke was forcing them all to be friends even though Michael’s smoothie got spilled and Calum dropped his nachos.  Michael would take being newly flustered over a hot guy who got a strawberry drink all over his favorite sweatshirt rather than having Calum not fucking talk to him.

“Did you know that Calum’s doing a j-term?”

Luke sighs on the other end of the line.

“I’m doing fine, Michael, thank you for asking.  How are you?”

“I’m bad.  Calum is here and no one warned me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell him that you would be back early, either.”

“That much was obvious.”  Michael stirs his noodles, suddenly feeling like he doesn’t have the right appetite for this.  “He looked like me showing up was the worst thing in the world.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not,” he says.  “You should’ve seen him.  He hates me now, and I still don’t know what I did wrong.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Luke says.  “He misses you, too.”

“If he misses me so much, he should respond to my texts.”

Luke hums on the other end of the line.

“You’re both in the same place now.  Maybe you can corner him in person.”

“I wouldn’t have to do that if someone would just tell me what happened.”

“What happened is that you two slept together and then Calum ghosted you,” Luke sighs.  “If you want his reasoning, you have to ask him.  I will not be a messenger pigeon for you two.”

“I feel like that metaphor works best only if he’s been asking about me, too,” Michael says.  Luke doesn’t respond right away, a drawn out pause that makes Michael look up from his noodles.  He wishes they were video chatting so he could see what sort of expression Luke is wearing. “Luke, has he asked about me?”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” Luke says.

“You fucker, he has talked about me!  Do you know why he ghosted me?”

“Stop using me as a go-between!  If you want to know why Calum hasn’t replied to your messages, ask him yourself.  You both need to get your heads out of your asses and communicate.  I can’t believe I’m the one who has to say that.”

Silence descends and Michael pulls his phone away from his ear to see that Luke hung up on him.  Michael huffs.  A second later his phone lights up with an incoming call, a very unattractive picture of Luke staring at him from his screen.  He considers letting it ring out and go to voicemail, but in the end he decides to take the high ground and answer.

“What,” he says flatly.

“Sorry I hung up on you,” Luke says.  “I don’t like being caught between you both.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.  “I don’t like it, either.”

“Will you try to talk to him?  He’ll let you if it’s in person.”

“I guess.”

Luke hums.  They stay on the phone a little longer, small talk filling the silence so Michael doesn’t have to be alone while he eats, but he knows he’s being a bad conversation partner, too distracted by what Calum may or may not have been saying about him to Luke.  When they finally hang up Michael flops back on his bed and groans, wondering if he should just move to Antarctica and change his name rather than put himself through this.

-/-

He manages to go the rest of the night without any indication that Calum is there.  They miss each other in the bathroom, but every sound in the hallway has the hair on his arms standing on end, wondering if it could be Calum or just the settling of the near-empty building.  He sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning on the sub-par dorm mattress, cuddling deeper into his blanket in an attempt to find some much-needed warmth.

The last night he spent with Calum, and the first night they’d spent together in that way, Michael fell asleep warm.  It was almost too hot, sticky under the covers and burning wherever their skin touched, but he loved it.  He’d take the heat over the cold any day, and he hasn’t felt warm since he woke up alone, bed feeling too big without the other boy in it to act as his personal space heater.

That morning the sheets had still smelled like him, but they were cold.  He’d left long before Michael woke up.  Michael’s first morning back feels like a mirror of that day.  Right before he fully wakes up he catches himself reaching for Calum and coming up empty.  When he realizes what he had been doing, he forces himself to get up rather than stay in bed and wallow only because he can’t afford to be late to work on his first day back and he doesn’t trust the roads to be cleared yet.  The college is situated on the outskirts of town, an odd placement that puts a woodsy area to one side and only a few smaller shops next to it.  Michael hadn’t managed to land a job in one of those places, but the family-owned restaurant he works at pays enough to be worth the gas it takes to get there.  He throws on a hoodie and slippers and shuffles to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Calum is already at one of the sinks when he enters.  Michael doesn’t let his eyes stray from his face, refusing to take in the tan shoulders and torso or the drops of water glistening against him, leading down to the towel wrapped around his hips.  He has a toothbrush in his mouth, foam gathering at the corners of his lips, lips that Michael has--

No.  He can’t think about this now.

“Morning,” he says, clearing his throat to get it to work properly.

“Morning,” Calum replies around his toothbrush, consonants muffled.  He spits into the sink and Michael makes himself focus on his own morning routine, meticulously putting toothpaste on his own brush and hoping it’s not obvious that even glancing at Calum is dangerous for him right now.

Neither of them try to say anything more, and Michael wonders if the silence is hanging as heavily in the air for Calum as it is for him.  Before break, silences between them were the only types of silences Michael could stand.  He’s fidgety by nature and gets uncomfortable without background noise, but Calum always managed to temper that a bit.  Being around him settles something inside, something that right now makes Michael want to scream.

He’s about to try to break the silence when Calum picks up his bathroom caddy and leaves without so much as a glance his way.  Michael tries not to let it bother him, but he misses the weight of his gaze.  Calum used to look at him fondly, filled with enough affection that Michael could feel it in his heart.  He doesn’t understand why that would have to change now.

By the time Michael goes to start his car for work, Calum has set himself up in the lounge again, laptop open in front of him.  He’s turned on the fireplace, something that Michael thinks they're not technically supposed to do but that he’s certainly not going to call him on, and he doesn’t look up when Michael comes down the stairs.  Michael lingers by the doorway longer than he should.

They’ve spent a lot of time in this room, whether doing homework on the couch, trying to play duets on the piano in the corner, or hogging the chess set by the window, figuring out how to play and passing the time.

The chess board is set up for a fresh game.  In a naive fit of hope Michael walks over to it and moves one of the pawns forward.  Calum doesn’t glance up from his computer, but he’s still in a way that means he knows what Michael is doing.

On his way out he thinks he hears someone say drive safe, but the howling of the wind is already filling his ears and he can’t be sure.

-/-

Michael gets sent home early because of the snow.  He fights it all the way there, pulling in late because he had to move so slow, and halfway through his shift the manager calls it, deciding to close up for the day.  Right after he clocks out Michael gets a notification on his phone for a severe blizzard alert, and he steels himself to face it before leaving behind the warmth of the restaurant.  Outside the world is covered in a thick sheet of white, plows not able to keep up with the large flakes still falling from the sky, and Michael wills his car to survive the drive, windshield wipers going furiously in an attempt to keep him seeing as much as he can.  The drive takes three times longer than usual, and when he finally spots his dorm through the snow it comes with a sigh of relief.

Calum is still in the lounge when he comes inside and stomps his feet to get some feeling back into them.  With the snow came a biting wind, and even after barely being outside he feels frozen.

“I was getting worried,” Calum says, startling him.  “It looks like it’s bad out there.”

“It is,” Michael says, taking off his hat and shaking snow off of it.  He squints at Calum, in a different position and bundled in a blanket now, the big blue one that Mali got him as a grad present.  Michael once again has to push away the urge to cuddle up to him.

“It’s fucking cold,” he says instead, because it’s true and if he doesn’t make small talk he’s going to blurt something embarrassing like I’ve been thinking about you all the time or why did you leave me or I love you I love you I love you I’m sorry please can we be friends again?

“Going to be a cold night for us, then,” Calum says.  “The heating’s been shit this break.  I don’t think they keep it up as high when there’s only one student here.”

“I’ve had a few cold nights,” Michael snorts before he thinks about it.  “I mean--I’ll use some extra blankets.”

Calum nods once.  He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then snaps it shut again, looking down at his computer.  It feels like a dismissal, like Michael isn’t worth his time anymore, and it stings.

He should go upstairs, anyway.  He needs to find some blankets of his own.  He glances over the piano and the fireplace, eyes landing on the chess game by the window.

Someone has moved a pawn on the other side.  He glances at Calum, then moves a knight, continuing the game.  He wants to ask Calum to sit down and play a proper round with him, but one glance at Calum’s posture has him biting his tongue.  He’s closed off, blanket wrapped around him securely and face tense, and Michael can’t bring himself to bother him, not when interacting with Michael seems to be the last thing he wants to do.

Michael looks back at the chess set, three pieces out of place, and heads to his room.

-/-

The night comes simultaneously fast and slow in the way that all boring winter nights do.  Michael sits in his room scrolling through social media while the sun sets around him, and when he does eventually get up it’s only so he can make more ramen to eat.  He had lunch at the restaurant and never did get to the grocery store, but he has a few snacks to munch on and if things get really bad he can always see if Calum has anything he’s willing to share.

Calum initiated conversation earlier, so things can’t be too bad between them, right?  It’s still terribly stiff and uncomfortable, but at least he’s not getting the silent treatment anymore.  At least Calum looked at him for a little bit.

He plays video games until he’s too bored to continue, then showers and crawls into bed.  It’s still cold, just like Calum said it would be, but they haven’t lost power yet.  Michael piles on the blankets and pillows, but his sheets are frigid, not yet warmed by his body heat and making him shiver.  After a few minutes of tossing and turning he considers boiling water just to have a warm mug to hold in his hands.

Maybe it’ll be better in the lounge with the fireplace on.  No one’s here to get mad at him for falling asleep on the couch, but then he’d have to haul all of his blankets down there, something that he doesn’t think he has the energy for right now.

He wishes Calum were here.  It feels like all he’s done since getting back to campus is think about Calum, his presence in the building affecting him more than it would have if he was fully alone, but in a pragmatic sense he also really wants a warm body next to him right now.  Two people under the covers are warmer than one, and he’s already put on socks and a hoodie.  Wrapping himself in Calum would keep him warm on a physical level, and maybe it’ll settle him enough that he’ll actually be able to sleep without having weird dreams or waking up every few hours.

He hasn’t even gotten close enough to touch him since getting here.  Before break, he and Calum were always handsy with each other, personal space a myth with the two of them.  It feels wrong to have seen him and not immediately gone in for a hug.

He flops onto his stomach, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the blankets too much, but sleep isn’t coming easy.  When a knock comes on his door, he’s immediately awake and alert.  He wonders if it was a piece of a dream instead, given that there’s only one other person in the building and late night visits did not seem to be an option on the table, but after a few moments someone knocks again.

The light of the hallway is bright after the dark of his room, making him squint at the silhouette of Calum standing before him, wrapped in a blanket like he always seems to be right now.  His hair is messy, no doubt from his own fitful attempt to sleep, and Michael wants to run his fingers through it and put it back to rights.

“Hi,” Michael says.

“I called maintenance about the heat,” Calum says.  “They said they’re having a bit of issue with it and will send someone out, but with the road conditions it could be a little while.  I think they forgot that there were people here.”

“Oh,” Michael says.  “Okay.”

He stares at Calum again, cataloguing how tightly he’s wrapped up and the way he’s chewing on his lips.  Michael waits for him to say what he really came here to.

“It’s really fucking cold, Michael,” Calum blurts finally, a little desperate.

“I know,” Michael says, not sure how to tell Calum that he’d set the world on fire for him if it would help.

“It’d be warmer if we were together.  Like, scientifically speaking.  If we cuddled, it would warm us up a bit.”

“Well, you are the scientist in this duo.  You would know.”  Calum finally meets his eyes, looking up through his eyelashes a little in a way that’s completely unfair.  He’s already got Michael wrapped around his finger, heart skipping a beat at the simple occasion of having his attention again.

He has it so bad that it’s pathetic.

“Is that all?” Michael asks, trying to scrape together some of his dignity.  Calum has been ghosting him for weeks, and a conversation about the bad heating isn’t exactly what Michael wanted from a real conversation with him.  He’s too tired for small talk and much too cold to be standing here when he could be under the covers.

“You’re shivering,” Calum says.  Michael hadn’t noticed the small tremors, but now that Calum pointed them out he can’t ignore them.

“Come on, Mikey,” Calum says, stepping closer.  Michael wants to lean into him and the warmth he promises.  “I promise it’ll be warmer if we cuddle.”

“Do you want to come in?” he asks.  Calum nods, so he steps aside.

Having Calum in his room again when the last time included one of the best and most overwhelming experiences of Michael’s life is weird, to say the least.  It’s like Michael can see two versions of him: the current Calum, wrapped in a blanket and closed off in every conceivable way, and the Calum from that night, laughing at all of Michael’s jokes and spouting off facts about gravity to explain how they kept getting closer and closer.

“See, everything with mass exerts gravity on everything else, except typically it’s not enough to be noticeable compared to the gravity of the Earth.  Your gravitational field must be really strong today.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, Michael, you idiot.  Stop misinterpreting what I’m saying!”

Calum surveys the room, the safety light reflecting off the snow outside just enough to give him silhouettes to work with.  Michael wonders what he’s remembering.

“How do you want to do this?” Michael asks when the silence has stretched on for too long.  Calum shrugs, so Michael climbs up onto his bed, sliding under the covers and leaving a corner flipped up in invitation.  Calum hesitates, and for a moment Michael thinks he’s going to turn tail and run, but he throws his blanket on top of the covers and joins.  The bed is too small to avoid some awkward elbows and involuntary brushes of clothing, barely big enough for one person, let alone two.  Michael holds his breath while Calum gets somewhat settled, pressed against the wall to give him as much room as possible.

“It’ll be warmer if we’re touching,” Calum whispers, words hitting Michael like a shout with the close proximity and otherwise silence of the room.  If the lights were on, Michael would probably be able to count his eyelashes, but now his face is a combination of different shadows.

“How do you…” Michael trails off.  Calum reaches out first, a cold hand wrapping around his own and pulling him closer.  They end up with Calum on his back and Michael’s head on his shoulder, legs tangled together.  Michael’s sure that Calum can hear how loud his heart is beating, but he can feel Calum’s own beating in a similar pattern so he can’t be too upset about it.  He can hear every inhale and rustle of clothing, can feel the soft cotton of Calum’s shirt against his cheek and smell the faint remains of his soap.

He’s warm.  It’s not the burning heat from their last night together, but it’s almost worse with the gradual way that Michael can feel himself unthaw in his presence, slow enough that he could forget it’s happening only to wake up as an irreparable puddle.

“Okay?” Michael asks, sending flashbacks to the last few times he had asked that question and Calum’s answers: always positive, whether a verbal yes or a nod or a fierce kiss and wandering hands.

“Yeah,” Calum says.  Michael swallows.

Calum starts tracing a design on his back with his finger, barely-felt with Michael still bundled up.  Michael wills himself to stay in the moment rather than slipping into the past or wishing for a different future.

It’s not bad like this.  He gets Calum close at least, receiving that little piece of contact from him that he’s been craving.  If this is the last time they’re like this, he wants to enjoy it if he can.

He shifts, Calum freezing under him for a moment until they both exhale and relax a little more.

Michael closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep.

“Michael?” Calum whispers after a few minutes.  For a moment he considers not answering, sure that anything Calum might think to say in the dark of the night will be something he doesn’t want to hear, but all he’s been asking for the past few weeks is his attention, and it seems vindictive to reject it now.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Michael should ask for clarification on what, exactly, Calum is apologizing about.  He’s opened the door to this conversation, and Michael should take the opportunity to finally walk through and get their wires straightened out, but he can’t bring himself to do any of that, not like this.  Not when Michael is breathing him in and stealing his warmth and there’s absolutely nothing between them to act as a buffer.

In the dark cuddled up together, Michael can keep pretending that Calum isn’t about to crush him.  As long as he doesn’t ask for clarification, it’s like Schrodinger’s heartbreak: Michael can be both loved and lonely at the same time.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he asks.  “We need to talk about it, but I’m tired.  And cold.  Not tonight.”

“Okay,” Calum says.  Michael waits to see if there’s anything else, but Calum just resumes tracing his secret design on Michael’s back.

Michael closes his eyes and hopes they don’t freeze to death in the night, twin skeletons found tangled together by some unsuspecting third party when the thaw comes.  He’s not sure when he falls asleep and begins to dream, but in his mind Calum presses a kiss to his hair and Michael tries not to let such a simple action break him.

-/-

When he wakes up the bed is cold and empty again.  It shouldn’t be surprising, certainly not after last time.  There was less expectation to stay here, but everything is ugly in the cold light, shattering the fragile balance of the night before.  Michael feels a pit in his stomach, but also a hot flare of anger.

Calum is the one who came begging for his company yesterday after completely ignoring him for weeks.  Calum is the one who left without a trace after Michael showed him he loves him the best way he knows how.  Calum is the one who keeps running away from this, but Michael is the one who keeps getting hurt and that’s not fair.

It’s a little warmer in the building now, the heaters likely getting sorted while they were sleeping, but Michael still grabs a blanket.  No one answers Calum’s door and the bathroom seems to be empty.  He heads downstairs to see if he has set himself up in the lounge again and knows he’s on the right track when he starts to hear piano music drifting softly towards him the more he descends the stairs.

Calum is one of the only people who ever uses the grand piano in the lounge.  It’s slightly out of tune, just enough for Michael himself to notice but for Calum to complain about a lot.  Michael has spent a lot of later nights in the lounge listening to him play, whether he was practicing back when he used to be a music major and take lessons or just playing for fun.  Calum curses a lot when he practices, but Michael has also caught him with his eyes closed and a content smile on his face, letting the music take him away.  Watching him like that, Michael sometimes wonders why Calum switched from music to science, but the rarity of the moments makes them all the more special.

He’s playing a piece that he’s been working on for a while.  Michael tries not to disturb him, walking slowly towards the chess set where another piece has been moved in a continuation of the game.  Calum must have pulled the curtains by the windows up, deep drifts of snow piled against them and sunlight reflecting off the white to set the entire room aglow.  In this setting and with this soundtrack, the morning feels less frosty.

The last note hangs suspended in the air and Michael holds his breath until it dissipates.  Calum sighs, breaking his posture to slump down, and turns to face Michael.

“You’ve gotten better at that one,” Michael says.

“Easier to practice when I don’t have to go to the music hall and no one’s here to use the piano.”

Michael studies him, taking in his rumpled appearance.  He doesn’t look like he’s been up that long, still in the same pants he went to bed in and already folding the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands to keep them warm.

The sweatshirt he’s wearing is one of Michael’s.  His heart flip-flops.

“Did you want to talk now?” Calum asks.

“Yeah,” Michael sighs.  Calum nods once.  He scoots over on the piano bench, making room, and Michael gingerly sits next to him.  After a moment’s hesitation, he offers part of his blanket, nearly sighing in relief when Calum accepts it.

“I’m sorry for how I left, and for not replying to any of your messages,” Calum begins.  “That was a jerk move.”

“It was,” Michael says.  “You’re my best friend, Calum.  If I had known that’s how you’d react, I wouldn’t have--”  He stops, because he doesn’t want to say he regrets sleeping with Calum unless he has to.  It would be a lie.  He’d rather have Calum as a friend than nothing, but the will-we-won’t-we would’ve killed him eventually, and the night itself was amazing right up until Calum left.

“I don’t want to jeopardize that,” he says instead.  “You mean a lot to me.”

Calum presses his lips together.

“Why did you leave?” Michael asks.  “I thought we were on the same page.  I mean… you wanted it, right?  You said you did.  I thought you did.  I didn’t--”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Calum interrupts.  “I did want it.  I really wanted it.  Too much, probably.”

“What does that mean?”

Calum sighs, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his sleeves again.  Michael wants to know why he’s so nervous.  He wants to grab his hands and hold him steady the way that Calum does for him when he’s freaking out, but that wouldn’t be welcome right now.

“Michael, I can’t do something casual with you.  You’ve said before that you’re not looking for anything serious, but I can’t be friends with benefits, not with you.  Not when I’m in love with you.  It’d tear me apart.”

“What made you think I wanted something casual?” Michael asks.  “Apparently you couldn’t tell, but that night was kind of a big deal for me.  I’m not exactly known for sleeping around.”

“Michael--”

“I’ve been crushing on you since we met, okay?” Michael says, turning to face him more fully.  “I wasn’t looking for something serious with anyone else because I’ve been hung up on you.  That night was one of the best nights of my life, and then you weren’t there in the morning.  I thought I had fucked up.  I thought I had ruined one of the most important relationships in my life.”

“You didn’t,” Calum says, grabbing his hand.  “I should have talked to you instead of running away.  That’s on me.”

“Yeah it is,” Michael sulks.  “Why didn’t you?  Why’d you just assume what I wanted instead of bothering to ask me?  That hurt, Cal.”

“I know.”  Calum grimaces, then shrugs.  “I don’t know.  I thought I knew what you wanted.  Or didn’t want, I guess.  I didn’t consider that you could like me until you kissed me, and you’ve never shown interest in an actual relationship.  I wasn’t ready for you to reject me.”

“But I wasn’t going to,” Michael says.  “You’re you.  You’re the exception.”

“I didn’t know that, though.  We didn’t exactly sit down for a conversation.  Our mouths were otherwise occupied that night, if I remember correctly.”  Michael opens his mouth to protest, then snaps it shut.

He doesn’t remember exactly what he said in the heat of it, but he remembers biting back I love you, knowing it was too early to be throwing that phrase around, no matter how true it was.  Maybe he ended up hiding the sentiment a bit more than he anticipated.

“You still should’ve talked to me,” he says.

“I know,” Calum replies, squeezing his hand.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll do better with that.”

Michael squeezes his hand back.

“So,” he says, “you like me?”

“Yeah,” Calum says.  “A lot.”

“You got that I like you, too, right?  I said that.  I’ve had it bad for you since we met.”  Calum frowns.

“You took a while to warm up to me.  I thought you were still holding a grudge because I spilled your smoothie.”

“No, you had me tongue-tied,” Michael says.  “I had to figure out how to function around you.  You’re really hot and it made me flustered.”

“Shut up,” Calum says.  He’s blushing, crimson staining his cheeks enough for Michael to see, sending a strong thrill of satisfaction through him.

“I’m serious,” he needles.  “You’re ridiculously attractive, dude.  You’re not going to hear the end of it from me now.  I’ve said it once and now there’s nothing to stop me from saying it five times a day.”

Calum laughs and tucks his face into Michael’s shoulder.  Michael feels his own happiness bubble up inside him, threatening to burst.  He brings Calum’s hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it in an attempt to release some of the pressure.

“Are we boyfriends now?” Calum asks.

“Fuck yeah,” Michael says.  “Unless you don’t want to be, but that’d be lame.”

“I want to be,” Calum says quickly.

“Good,” Michael says.  “Then we are.”

“Good.”

They sit for a while, and this silence feels comfortable again, like their old ones.  Michal could stay suspended in this moment like the final note of Calum’s piano song and feel content with it rather than uncomfortable.  That more than anything lets him know they’ll be okay.

“I’m cold,” Calum says eventually.

“We should move by the fire.”

“We should eat breakfast,” Calum counters.  Michael hums and gives Calum’s neck an exaggerated sniff, making him squirm and giggle again.

“You should shower,” he says.

“Fuck you.  That’s rude.”

“I could join you?” Michael offers.

“These showers are not big enough for two people,” Calum says.  “Nice try, though.”

He stands and kisses Michael on the forehead, tucking the blanket back around him.

“Can I kiss you properly?” Michael asks.  Calum nods and leans down again, the gentle press of his lips both familiar and thrilling, sweeter in the morning light.

“Breakfast, then I’m going to shower alone, then I think we have a chess game to finish.”

“Or we could make out all day while we have the lounge to ourselves.”  Calum considers him, tilting his head and giving a wry smile.

“We can do that if you win the chess match.”

“Deal,” Michael says.  It’s an easy bargain, because Michael is better at chess than Calum is, and with that prize on the line nothing’s going to distract him.

“Breakfast,” Calum repeats, tugging on his hands until he’s standing, too.  Michael leans forward and kisses him again, just because he can now.  Calum beams and leads him to the stairs, Michael tripping over his blanket and Calum’s laugh filling the room.

It could just be the heating kicking in more, but Michael isn’t sure he needs the blanket right now, not when Calum is here warming him from the inside out.

[theyearoftheking]

Book Seventy-Six: The Institute

“Great events turn on small hinges.”

Another long day of travel (and the subsequent next day off) gave me plenty of time to fly through this banger of a book. I think I’ve mentioned that as I read each book, I keep notes on parallels between other books, Dark Tower references, nods to the state of Wisconsin, lines that crack me up... just assorted odds and ends. One of the first notes I made was, “This book is what Firestarter SHOULD have been!” My final note is, “On second thought, Firestarter is the seed that sprouted this book.”

I also couldn’t stop thinking about Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro as I was reading. For those that haven’t had the pleasure, go read this book immediately. It has a  lot of the same psychological horror, and bonding among the characters. It’s an excellent, and short book. There’s also a movie that’s equally as haunting. I just watched the trailer again... there’s a lump in my throat. It’s cool. I’m fine. 

The Institute centers around Luke Ellis, a brilliant little boy who can also move pizza pans with his mind when he’s excited. One night, his parents are murdered in their Minnesota home, and Luke is abducted and taken back to The Institute. He wakes up in a room that looks like his...except it isn’t. He’s in rural Maine.

He ventures out of his room, and makes fast friends with the other kids in the Front Half. The kids are subject to all kinds of tests, and receive tokens they can later use for snacks and mini bottles of alcohol from the vending machines. The kids living in The Institute are considered TK (telekenetic) or TP (telepathic); and life is okay on the Front Half. The Back Half is where the last of the powers are sucked out of kids and they reside in a cringy place called Gorky Park. Steve uses the term “gork” a lot in his books. Makes me cringe every damn time. 

Luke is a smart kid, and eventually manages to escape The Institute and hide out in a boxcar all the way down to DuPray, South Carolina where he meets Tim Jamieson and tells him his incredible story about The Institute. Tim works for the DuPray police department, and takes Luke in to tell his story. 

Meanwhile, The Institute baddies are trying to track Luke down. They have spies all over the country ready to look for any runaways, and sure enough- one in DuPray reports Luke. 

There’s an epic showdown, where all the townspeople of DuPray show up with guns, and -one of the greatest characters ever, Orphan Annie, announces- “You’re in the South now!” 

After spending almost a week in Florida, I couldn’t help but laugh. In case we didn’t know about the southern setting, Steve also mentions The Waffle House. I’m on day two of a diet reset, and would kill someone for a pecan waffle and Diet Coke. 

The kids at The Institute use their collective powers to basically blow the place up, and many of the kids from the Front Half are able to go live with their relatives. I wouldn’t say it’s the happiest ending, but the good guys (and their arsenal of weapons) eventually win in the end. 

While this book is different, there are a few key reminders that this is in fact a Steve novel:

The ever-present chambray work shirt

Early on, Tim is staying in a hotel room and Steve writes, “The room’s one picture- an unsettling composition depicting a sailing ship crewed entirely by grinning and possibly homicidal black men- hung crooked. Tim straightened it, but it immediately fell crooked again.” This reminds me of a line early on in The Gunslinger, when Steve writes that Roland is, “...the sort of man who would straighten pictures in strange hotel rooms.” 

Jerusalem’s Lot is mentioned

“On the beam” is used

Orphan Annie is compared to a “gunslinger”

Oh! And there’s even a Wisconsin mention! A Wisconsin highway during a blizzard. Y’all... that’s something we have a lot of experience with right now... let me tell you... we’ve had an entire winter’s worth of weather crammed into three weeks. Despite the rodent weatherman’s predictions, we’re really hoping to see spring sometime soon. 

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 47

Total Dark Tower References: 71

Book Grade: A-

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

Doctor Sleep: A+

The Talisman: A+

Wizard and Glass: A+

11/22/63: A+

Mr. Mercedes: A+

End of Watch: A+

Under the Dome: A+

Needful Things: A+

On Writing: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Hearts in Atlantis: A+

Full Dark, No Stars: A+

The Bazaar of Bad Dreams: A+

Just After Sunset: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

Stephen King Goes to the Movies: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Finders Keepers: A-

Bag of Bones: A-

Duma Key: A-

Black House: A-

The Institute: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

The Dark Tower: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Blaze: B+

Hard Listening: B+

Revival: B+

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Joyland: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

Wolves of the Calla: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Song of Susannah: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

From a Buick 8: B

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B

Sleeping Beauties: B-

The Colorado Kid: B-

Storm of the Century: B-

Everything’s Eventual: B-

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

The Wind Through the Keyhole: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Cell: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Desperation: C-

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Faithful: D

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Lisey’s Story: D

Christine: D

Dreamcatcher: D

The Regulators: D

The Tommyknockers D

Next, we travel back in time to read The Outsider. I read it once and loved it, and I hope to watch the series on HBO soon. In a perfect world, you’ll see a blog post on that someday as well. But don’t hold your breath. 

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights, Rebecca 

[softboyscully]

Public School Stuff I Wanted to Share

public school is both beautiful and horrifying am i right

so ill just go by the grades i guess

Kindergarten, first year

i did kindergartden at a catholic school in a relativly big city so this one’s got some shit

we went to church every wednesday, me and best friend (lost track of her when we moved, wish we’d stayed in touch, she was awesome) would giggle the whole time, pretty sure we made fun of jesus once, can’t remember why, possibly the hair

i had the nicest teacher, she was (as i remember her) young, blonde, and super sweet, that was the first and last year i ever had naptime

SPEAKING of naptime

i never slept during it

once i found what i remember being a nut of some sort on the ground, probably came off someone’s shoe

i grab it, turn to sarah (my best friend), say something about putting it up my nose

sarah, apparently having common sense, says, “no dont do it!! we’re supposed to be sleeping!!”

i put it up my fucking nose

try to get it out, just push it farther in

im crying a little bit now, that shit hurts

go up to my teacher

“you’re supposed to be asleep!”

“i have a nut up my nose and it wont come out”

teacher tries to get it out, but it wont budge

just. sends me back to my mat

that was it

the art room was tiny

like re-purposed broom closet tiny

there was a copy of the mona lisa in the hallway, someone had drawn ray bans on it with a pencil, never got replaced

there was a creepy-ass basement i went down to after school, we ate cheeseballs and sandwiches with some kind of meat, mayo, and that kinda yellow bread

someone broke his leg down there once, think an older kid threw him at the ceiling or something

we learned how to play Silver Bells with actual bells in music class

Kindergarten, second year

i remember these two teachers as the evil step sister-type look, but it might be my little kid imagination

but seriously they were horrible

we learned stuff in a room that was more middle-school styled, except everything was green or black and it was v dark

me and sarah attained a new friend, john

honestly i think we would’ve stayed friends for a while if i didnt move away

i have two vivid memories

one is of me really wanting to go home, so i walked by the teacher’s desk and did a fake sneeze

they laughed at me and told me to go sit back down

the other is  john leaning his chair back and then falling, so me and sarah went to help him back up

it was funny, so he did it again

and again

me and sarah were laughing, had the time of our lives

after the maybe fifth time the teachers said “john can get back up by himself. sit down and stay there.”

one of the reasons we moved was bc i got sent a letter from my fourth grade buddie

most of the words weren’t spelled correctly, many letters were backwards

my mother was horrified

ofc now we know it was probably a learning disability 

1st grade

this is when i moved

beginning of school i was ASTOUNDED we didnt have uniforms, one of the best things ever to happen to me

nothing wrong with this teacher, she was cool

thing is i was a little shit

told everyone my dogs died (they did but i was maybe three when it happened, i remember it not)

all my personal narratives were bullshit (only one sticks in my memory, wrote it about celebrating christmas AND hanukkah with my dad’s friends who were jewish, i have never even met those friends)

had a crush on this kid, best friend (she was terrible and helped wreck me emotionally) told me to kiss him in music class. me being a stupid ass bitch, i did it, aND HE GOES TO THE TEACHER AND CALLS ME OUT. at the end of class she gets both of us to stay for a bit, AND I DENYIED EVERYTHING. i walked across the fucking classroom, kissed him on the cheek, ran away giggling, told my teacher i didn’t do anything, AND GOT AWAY WITH IT. i’ve embarrassed myself further with this child but thats another story

2nd grade

i loved this teacher but honestly he was absolute shit

like. all he did was play the guitar and sing with us

never actually taught us stuff???

middle of the year, my mom goes in for a parent-teacher conference, he tells her i dont pay attention is math.

“what do you mean?”

“she doesn’t listen, she just takes out a book and starts reading.”

“........have you.... tried taking the book away?”

“sure, i could try that.”

“o....kay”

he also told her i’d be a girl who’d grow up to love spellcheck (which i do lmao)

like ???? why not just??? teach me to spell????

there was this one dude who one day showed up, gave me a pink stuffed cat, and then asked me where i lived

funniest thing was he lived on the same street as me

something that is vivid in my memory is showing up to class one day and realizing that i was wearing my regular clothes over my pajamas

also we had fish

every day someone else was in charge of feeding them

one of the times it was my job, i grab the fish food and walk over to the tank only to find all of the fish floating on the top

i screamed “THE FISH CAN FLY?!?!?!?!?!”

everyone ran over, all of us scarred for life when Mr. G walks over and goes in the most normal voice ever “no theyre dead”

we held a funeral

the cause of death is still undetermined

3rd grade

this year just draws a blank for me

all i know is that whoever the teacher was, they neglected to teach me how to tell time from a clock

also we learned the Cotten Eyed Joe dance in gym around here

4th grade

i had two teachers this year

one was the same one from 1st grade, the other one was a total bitch

made a girl named hannah ball her eyes out once, never apologized

i was (and am) and avid reader, so my reading skills were high above average

instead of being proud of me she told me i was weird, not normal, and too smart for a 4th grader, so i MUST be cheating. 

she was the start of a lot of self confidence issues for me ngl

this was around the time i went and got tested for ADHD (me and my grandmother almost broke down on the highway but thats another story), Mrs. M (the nice one) was super supportive when i told her why i was leaving early but Ms. S (bitch) told me ADHD wasn’t real and i just wanted to be special for once

she sucked, Ms. S

5th grade

this is getting super long so this’ll be the last one i do

but my teacher..... Mr. F was A+++++

he legitimately taught me math

we had i guess like,,, a buddie class we switched with sometimes

the teacher of that class was Mrs. R, who had crazy red hair and many freckles

at one point she referenced a meme and my entire class started screaming

also there was another Mrs. S (to differentiate this one will be called Mrs. Su)

she was kind of crazy

she was the astronomy teacher and she told us many times that the moon landing was faked

once she handed out sunscreen and had everyone put it on their whole body (this was in december, fyi)

Mr. F also hosted an ‘archeological dig’ which sounds cool but in reality he had a bunch of arcade prizes from his childhood buried in little flower pots we dug into with plastic spoons

also heres some stuff i cants pinpoint the time of/happened in multiple grades:

someone held a who-can-scream-the-most-like-a-goat contest

a guy named Makenzie won

remember we planned it while the teacher left the classroom so the teacher walks back in and one by one everyone in the room starts screaming, there was some applause, a few kids got a standing ovation

we cleaned out our desks in the middle of the year, i found 3 socks and a dog treat in mine

like how the fuck did any of those things get there

and where’s the fourth sock

b o t t l e f l i p p i n g

but no seriously there were at least five water bottles stuck in the ceiling in the cafeteria

my sorta friend charlie was obsessed with paper airplanes

one time he might’ve broken the world record for longest time in the air but he was counting in his head and it was at recess so there was no video

four square and gaga ball would be played no matter the setting, time, or conditions and it was super competitive

like if you could get to king in four square you got the everlasting respect of everyone

and everyone was super educated on four square special rules, special plays, that kinda shit

no but guys i grew up with bus stop, candy store, haunted house on mondays, haunted mansion on fridays, zombies was fair game unless it was Zach, Ryan, Chrissy or Vee

me and one other guy named andrew were the only known pjo fans, had the time of our LIVES making refrences

“HEY ANDREW IM NOBODY”

“I HAVE WAITED YEARS FOR YOU, NOBODY, COME HERE AND FACE YOUR DEATH”

“hey annabeth, i thought you looked like a princess when i first saw you. i printed out a picture you sent me casually and kept it with me. i snuck along on a quest so i could save you, endangering myself immensely. i held the sky for you. when you talk about your crush on luke, i get jealous. beckendorf understood, but hes dead.”

“ikr we’re literally the best of friends”

“RIGHT”  

also the first time we finished mark of athena we were in the same classroom and we individually dropped the book, stood up, looked at each other, and screamed “WELL FUCK YOU TOO RICK RIORDAN”

[a-medvezhonok]

Part 15 Sterling x April

After about an hour after April had woken up, during which she had snuggled with Sterling, washed her face, had breakfast, she was slowly becoming human again. When they went back upstairs to Sterling’s room, she got a little twinkle in her eye.

-Why don’t I try on your clothes?

-What, no you can’t.

April used a mocking tone. – Because your clothes are too long for me?

-What? No. Because it would be too much. I could barely handle you wearing my old grey t-shirt for pyjamas. For some reason you wearing my clothes has too much power.

-Oooh, all the more reason to do it and put on a fashion show. – At this April did fake dramatic poses. -You know Daddy took me once to a runway in Milan, I could teach you a thing or two about a catwalk.

-You mean like how to sit and watch women twice your height walk past you.

-Sterling Wesley, you are on very thin ice. – April paused, whilst Sterling had an internal freak-out about what it did to her when April used her full name. - Although I will admit, I was slightly more focused on the actual women than the clothes, but that’s beside the point. I still learnt some things.

At this April went into Sterling’s closet and started rummaging around. Sterling sat on the bed waiting and grimaced, wishing she had cleaned the closet more recently than she had. April re-emerged wearing denim dungarees with a white crop top underneath. Sterling couldn’t help but laugh, it was something she never thought she would see April wear.

-You look so gay.

-Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment. I look like a builder.

-You do look a bit like you are in a boyband.

-Yes, that’s it. I look like a boyband member who is pretending to be a builder in their music video.

-So, gay.

-So, gay.

-I like the crop top on you though.

-Of course, you do.

April went back in and found a tight black dress to wear, but as soon as Sterling saw her in it, she said.

-Nope take it off, too powerful.

April grinned and took a ruler from Sterling’s desk and started to hit it against the palm of her hand like a teacher would.

-You don’t think you deserve to be punished for being a naughty student.

Sterling felt her blood rush to a very particular part of her body and whimpered.

-April please. – Sterling knew she had to look away before she embarrassed herself more.

April put the ruler down. -Fine, we’ll put a pin in it.

After quite some time April emerged wearing a suit. Sterling felt her jaw drop and she was worried she might be dribbling. Admittedly the sleeves and trousers were probably a bit too long for her, but she had improvised and rolled them up, which in Sterling’s mind made the outfit look even better. Sterling couldn’t take her eyes off her, her hair cascading down, but then April looked in the mirror and tied her hair in a low ponytail and Sterling felt like she was going to explode. It was her own suit, but ever since April put it on, she never wanted it back as long as it meant April would wear it. Finally she managed to utter a sentence.

-You look so good.

-I know. I always do.

Sterling scoffed.

-Although, I could look better. -she started slowly walking over to Sterling unbuttoning her blouse as she did so.

-Oh my God. – The last word came out as kind of a stutter, as Sterling couldn’t think straight, quite literally.

April lowered her voice. -Did you just use the lords name in vain?

Sterling couldn’t hold back anymore; April was on the last button of her shirt. She bent down on her knees in front of April and undid the last button. April lifted Sterling’s chin and smiled down on her. She lent down and kissed her. Sterling felt like she was in a trance, like she was begging to the angel in front of her. Then April broke it off with a quick – Ok, time for the next outfit.

She reappeared out of the closet wearing a large grey hoodie and matching sweatpants, she struck a pose.

-What do you think, do I get any street cred?

-Oh for sure. Practically Highway cred. – April rolled her eyes, but Sterling ignored her and carried on. - I’m just mad that you still look good. This shouldn’t look good on you, you manage to pull everything off.

-Are you mocking me?

-No, I’m being serious. You look all tough, like you could beet me up and I’d thank you for it.

April tensed up. Sterling realised that what she had said wasn’t appropriate in relation to the whole April’s dad situation.

-Oh sorry wrong choice of.

April pulled a strained small smile and then came back to herself.

She walked up to Sterling.

-Well can tell you what outfit I can definitely pull off.- At this she reached down for the bottom of Sterling’s top. -This one. – She lifted the top trying to get it over Sterling’s head. But Sterling hadn’t really lifted her arms, and so instead of the simple removal of a top, it ended up being kind of a strange wrestling match. Eventually Sterling won, and pulled her top down, she laughed as she said.

-Wow, that was really smooth.

April huffed, trying to hide her embarrassment. – Yeah well you weren’t being very cooperative.

-Sorry, I must have missed the class on how to let your girlfriend remove your clothes, with the cheesiest lines you’ve ever heard.

April cocked her head - Girlfriend?

Sterling suddenly got really nervous that maybe she had jumped the gun.

-Oh.. I didn’t realise we weren’t, yeah, umm…

April took her hand to reassure her. – I like it.- There was a comfortable pause between them.

-Right, you’re turn to do a fashion show. Dazzle me.

-What do you want me to put on? They’re my clothes. You’ve probably seen me wear most of them.

April though for a moment, and then her expression changed.

-Put on one of your Sunday dresses.

-For real?

April nodded.

Sterling went into the closet and changed. -Ok, but I’m not sure why you want me to wear this, they’re not that exciting. – But as soon as Sterling stepped out and saw April’s expression, that thought dissipated. She gave a little shy twirl. – So you like it? Go on say something, you’re never usually this quiet.

-Every Sunday I would see you walk into church in a dress like that, and every Sunday my body would go all jittery like it did just now. I always thought it was out of anger or in apprehension of any interaction. But I’ve just realised, it was so much simpler than that. You just looked really pretty, simple as that, you’re gorgeous.

Sterling felt her face go crimson; she didn’t know what to do with herself. Luke would compliment her all the time, telling her she looked pretty, or some other fly away comment about her appearance. Then the worlds felt empty or like a self-esteem boost at best. But with April, the way she always spoke with such conviction, like every word was a deliberate choice made it feel so much more genuine, her words settling permanently into Sterling’s heart.

[mandochlorian]

CHAPTER ONE

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

For over a decade, Y/N Y/L/N has been in a relentless battle with the sinister FIRST ORDER, never getting close enough to destroy one another. After a messy history with the boy who was once known as Ben Solo, he and Y/N had parted ways. Neither sides will rest until Skywalker, the last Jedi, has been destroyed.

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“I will never tell you. I only speak with the Resistance.” He shakes his head, eyeing you with disgust. You smile down at him, shaking your head as you gaze at his wrinkled features and the red lining his eyes. You decide now, at this moment, that you refuse to get old. 

“You’ve become a fool, old man. You could have been great.” Tilting your head at him, you raise your hand at his temple as your crew stand at attention in their black armour. When you do so, he furrowed his eyebrows and grunts in pain, “I gather you can feel me inside your head. You don’t need to tell me anything... You don’t have what I’m looking for. Not anymore.” Something in your mind sounds as if it’s screaming at you. Furrowing your eyebrows in pain, you turn to the side. You see a man in the front seat of an old ship. Him. We need him. “But someone else does.” 

Poe, cursing to himself, wonders how the hell the x-wings engine is failing him. With a wave of your hand, your guards pull him from the fighter jet, dragging him towards you. Yet another man kneels at your feet. You get a clear look at him as he’s pushed to his knees and you know he has a connection to the map. Poe Dameron, Resistance Pilot.

“Wow, no ominous mask? I must be special to see your face.” Poe states sarcastically, looking up at you through his dark lashes.

Glancing down at him, you return an unimpressed look, “I assure you that you are not.” You reply, your tone is emotionless and cold. The power of having the map in your possession is so close that you can almost taste it on your lips. However, you’re becoming impatient. You sense something else. It almost feels as though it is approaching you. You know who it is.

“Ren.” You knew it was only a matter of time before he showed up. He has a great hatred for both Luke and the Jedi. Ren wishes to finish what his grandfather started; eliminate the corrupt religion of the Jedi. And that includes Luke Skywalker. And the only way Kylo can do this is to locate him. If you have the map, you have Luke. And if you have Luke, you finally render Kylo’s entire existence meaningless. Once you have Luke, you have power over Ren.

It was evident to not only each other, but to all, that you were both the most powerful entities in the galaxy. Kylo Ren and his First Order, tied to the Dark Side of the force, and you and your team of smugglers, tied to stopping Ren’s antics. The Resistance, always trying to keep up, maintaining the belief that you belong with them. But it wasn’t always like this. Sometime in the past, there was a chance to change everything that currently stands, to choose a different path and end up with a different fate - to change history. But you’ve convinced yourself that you like things just as they are. The dark side gives you strength and power, discipline but yet the freedom to control anything in your wake. And though you don’t use it to instate a harsh rule, you use it to do whatever the hell you want. That is a power that you cannot afford to lose, not as long as Kylo Ren stands.

He can change his clothes, name, and he can even hold the rank of Commander of Starkiller Base, but you know you’ve always been more powerful than Ben Solo ever was. Or ever will be. That’s why you’re here first, on Jakku, with Lor San Tekka kneeling in front of your feet like the pathetic, helpless, old man he is. You eye him, his sad expression, and you’re left wondering how bad it must feel to waste such potential on trying to be good. Since the fall of the Empire, Lor San Tekka has been a galactic traveller who eventually worked with the New Republic - and now the Resistance - mapping the remote fringe of the galaxy, before retiring to Jakku. Truly a waste.

As the large door screeches open, smoke shoots from the exhaust pipes and Kylo Ren steps out. “You will never win!” Lor exclaims as you watch Kylo marching to you with Phasma on his left, “The Dark Side will never-” Before he can finish his rant, you wave your hand and feel relief at the sound of his neck snapping easily and quickly. Poe kneels there in horror, his brown eyes wide as he watches the man he had a conversation with ten minutes ago fall to the ground.

“Good to see you haven’t changed,” comes the modulated voice as Kylo stands before you. Deep down you have to admit that the feeling of waving your hand in such a way to bring death instantly was not foreign, but it had no good memories attached to it. He knew this.

“Kylo Ren, always one step behind,” you raise your eyebrows, looking around at the burning village, “what a pity. There’s almost nothing for your clowns to destroy.”

“Not necessarily.” Kylo tilts his head, looking down at you through his visor. “You’re still here.”

You step towards him, your eyes on his the whole time with an intensity that makes his fist clench. With your arms stretched outwards, you make yourself vulnerable. “Go ahead.” You taunt, never taking your eyes off Kylo, “If you think you can actually do it.”

You try to sneak into his head but it feels as though you’re trying to cross a busy highway, there are too many thoughts speeding through his mind at once for you to gain entry. One thought you can gather is that Kylo thinks about reaching for his lightsaber that’s tucked and hanging from his belt. But he stands still. And you watch him. Instead, he holds his hand out and quickly, catching you off guard, he uses the force to push you to the side for a brief second. Four of your crew members fire at him but its futile, he stops the lasers with his hands. Keeping your eyes on him, you watch as the green light black helmet.

“The pilot is mine,” You glare, narrowing your eyes at the tall man as you stand up and wipe your hands on your garment, “Find another way to see your uncle. That is… if he even wants to see his greatest disappointment.”

In an instant, his lightsaber is out and against your neck. It’s red hot flames contrast against your crews green blasters. You laugh. He moves his lightsaber slowly, loving how you have to move your head up to face him, even more, to avoid getting burned. “You won’t do it.” You mumble furiously, glaring up at the man. Only he can hear you. And from inside his mask, Kylo Ren grits his teeth and lets out a puff of air. He searches your face and he’s reminded of those moments you’ve shared with one another; those feeble childhood memories he wishes he could kill forever. A sense of longing passes you but you swallow it down, looking at the mask, the dark entity that shadows the face of someone who was your only friend.

“Take the pilot. Put him on board.” Ren barks his orders. You look towards Poe, attempting to search his head discreetly. Poe struggles against the First Order troopers, thrashing around as you try to get inside the pilot's memories. “It’s been a while since we’ve spoken, hasn’t it?” Ren states.

Your hand ghosts over your lightsaber as you decide your next course of action. “Always on the same field, never close enough to kill one another.” You state, still searching the pilot's memories for the map. “So, what are you waiting for now?” You ask, searching his face.

“I won’t kill you… today.” Kylo smirks, knowing he’s ahead of the game. He’s now winning his war against you and against the Resistance, or so he thinks. Putting his saber away, you narrow your eyes at the way he doesn’t step back. He’s trying to intimidate you, stick close to you to throw you off.

“You know, you’re many things, Ben.” You spit his name harshly, “Jealous. Violent.”

“Hmm,” he muses, tilting his head down an inch, “Keep going.” He orders, staring into your soul.. You’re sure that he can hear your heart nearly going into cardiac arrest. You just want him away from you.

“Stubborn,” wishing you could take a step away from him but you’re glued to your place as you tilt your head up to look at the tall man, “maybe even intelligent. But I never thought you to be a fool.” You smile, turning on your heel and walking away. Kylo bites the inside of his cheek, hooking his saber onto his belt before reaching his hand out, stopping you in your tracks.

Your crew aim their guns at his head but Ren’s troopers take steps towards them, shouting for them to lower their weapons, lest they want to meet their end. Both teams are in a standoff. You and your crew of smugglers and Ren’s stormtroopers. “Bad idea.” Kylo mumbles to them, pushing his other hand out and sending them to the ground in one big blow. You reach for your saber, nearly getting there until Kylo’s gloved hand tugs on yours and pushes it away from your lightsaber. You clench your teeth, taking a breath and watching the man rip your weapon away from you. “This belongs to me now,” he advises.

“What game are you playing?” You grunt, wondering how the hell you can’t run from his strong grasp. How has he gotten so strong? Or is it you that has suddenly grown weaker?

“The same game we’ve always played,” Kylo responds, walking around you in circles before placing a hand on your cheek, his thumb pressed against your temple, “Have fun finding Skywalker stuck on a desert.” He turns to his goons, “Put her lightsaber on board. Kill the miscreant smugglers she calls allies.”

You wanted to shout, clenching your fist at your side you push Kylo’s troopers back with the force, sending them flying but Kylo just stumbles back slightly. You can hear shouting and blasters firing from behind you as your crew put up a fight. His eyes are on you. Kylo places a hand onto your temple once again, gripping your hand to stay by your side. You’re dizzy, in disarray, you can barely see the mask in front of you as your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head. “Hm,” Kylo muses, his eyes narrowing as he searches your suddenly weak mind, “Change of plans… Put her on board too.”

“No,” you struggle, unable to control your eyes from closing, “D-Don’t… N-” Suddenly, in one big heap, you fall forward and you’re out like a light.

Kylo Ren’s vessel is large and dark and Poe feels like he can barely breathe. Kylo feels that too sometimes but for completely different reasons. Poe comes to his senses, his eyes fluttering open before he looks around where he’s being held. The interrogation room is quiet, dim, and lonely. Poe doesn’t expect it to be anything other than those three things. Quite stupidly, he pulls on his restraints but is stopped the sound of the door opening and heavy footsteps carrying a tall man inside. Commander Ren. The pilot looks up at the masked man, not afraid of what Kylo could do to him. He doesn’t look strong. Sure, his arms are buff, his frame is huge, and he looks like he could kill Poe with his bare hands if he wanted to, but Poe knew the language Ren was wearing upon his demeanour. And he was not a strong man, not where it counted anyways. It takes a weak man to be careless.

Kylo looks right back at Poe through the visor in his mask, eyeing the pilot sceptically. He looks like a typical Resistance Pilot. Rough around the edges, someone you could learn to manipulate, thinks they’re the main character in the story of their life. Kylo admires the way Poe’s handsome brown eyes glimmer with hope. Hope, something so graceful yet so fleeting; something Kylo was turned away from.

“Poe Dameron,” Kylo Ren states, with his teeth almost gritting together, “top pilot of the Resistance. I’ve always thought your talents we’re going to waste.”

Poe just glares at the Commander. “Your mom sure doesn’t.”

Kylo lets out a small breath of a laugh, sarcastic as ever. He wears the smile but on the outside is an emotionless void. “My mother. She still has hope for me yet, does she?”

“She will never lose her hope for you,” Poe states, his voice sincere and emotional, “She wants you to come home. And she wants you to know that you’re not lost.” It almost shocks Kylo. It seemed like, for a second, his mother was in the room speaking to him herself. Kylo’s heart beats faster.

“And I want the map to Luke Skywalker.” Kylo retorts, sitting down beside Poe who stiffens up on the inside.

“I don’t have it.” He tells the commander, looking away from his eyes as if somehow that’ll diffuse any force powers Kylo has.

“Hm.” Kylo breathes out, leaning towards the man. He pauses for a moment, before taking his mask off. It clicks loudly, filling the silent tension. Poe doesn’t turn to face him. “No one ever looks me in the eyes. They think maybe I won’t be able to get inside their heads if they don’t look. I guess people do say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Though luckily for you... I don’t have a one.” Raising his hand quickly, Kylo can feel himself breaking down the door of Poe’s mind and seeing it all, seeing everything... but not seeing what he had desired. Kylo leans forward, placing his head at Poe’s temple and searching through his mind. The pain feels like his skull is about the be crushed and Poe begins to scream, having to relive terrible moments over and over again as Ren sifts through the pilots head. “No.” He mumbles, finally getting the full picture of what happened, “C’mon.” He pushes further, gritting his teeth, “No!”

He can see what Poe had seen. Upon the realisation that he is not about to acquire the knowledge that he has been searching for, Kylo Ren can feel himself pouring over the edge of pure anger like lava boils over a volcano.

Lifting himself up violently, he rips his lightsaber from his belt, ready to destroy the first thing he sees. But he restrains himself, letting his gloved hands grip the hilt of his weapon with great strength. He takes a deep breath, thinking of you still on Jakku with the droid that had escaped. You have the upper hand now. You always have the goddamn upper hand. As Kylo Ren leaves the interrogation chamber, he can’t help but think over your words.

“Kylo Ren, always one step behind.”

Not for much longer, Y/N.

[lost-n-stereo]

A/N: For anon who prompted me “Hallie+Sunshine”. Have a little 4th of July summer fic :)

and the sparks start flying (like the fourth of july)

She gets invited on a camping trip the first week of June, and when she says an invite she means that she quite literally received an e-vite from Helena through Facebook. There’s a group page and everything, with people RSVP’ing and talking about what alcohol they are going to bring and which campsites around the state are the best.

It’s not surprising to see the usual suspects on the list of people going. If Helena is setting it up that means that Luke is definitely going, since they are engaged and it’s just sort of a given. If Luke’s going then Clark and Jason will tag along with their girlfriends, and if the girls go then all of their friends will too. It’s a bit of a surprise to Allie though when she sees Harry RSVP and she kind of wants to comment on his post about how boat shoes aren’t generally camping attire but it feels shitty and she doesn’t want to be a dick for no reason.

The trip is planned for Fourth of July weekend, which is a little cliché but she doesn’t mind all that much. She orders a new tent off Amazon and an expensive pair of hiking boots because she’s not sure where exactly they are going yet but she feels like she should be prepared for anything. Becca calls her and asks if they should do some bathing suit shopping before the trip and they spend the day trying on different suits and drinking their daily calories in the form of food court smoothies.

It’s one of those rare times that the fourth falls on a weekend, so she takes the Friday before and the Monday after off from work and thanks the gods above that she works with a majority of older people that don’t care about the holiday weekend. They decided on a state park that has campgrounds that will fit all of them, she thinks it’s nearing twenty plus people going at last count, and a giant lake with tons of water sports and activities to do. She heard a rumor that someone rented out the entire stretch of sites on one side of the lake so they wouldn’t be bothered. No one said it was Harry but she can make an educated guess that was his doing.

There’s an honest to god party bus taking a large group of people to the lake but she decides to hitch a ride with Elle instead. The girl has a kick ass Jeep with no doors and it feels good flying down the highway with their camping gear piled high in the back and old school hip hop blaring out of the radio. Elle takes a sharp turn into the campground’s parking lot and Allie laughs as her body jerks out of the open door and her hair flies into her face as they jerk to a stop.

“You’re an absolute maniac,” Allie says on a laugh as they unbuckle their seat belts. “I fucking love it.”

Elle just flashes a grin and gets to work on unloading her tent from the back of the Jeep.

“Need some help?”

Allie rolls her eyes at the sound of Harry’s voice behind her and he’s grinning and eating an apple with a pocket knife when she turns around.

“I think we got it, thanks.”

He just shrugs, throws her a wink before heading over to where a group of people are unloading cases of beer out of the back of someone’s pickup. The parking lot is a madhouse. People are everywhere and Allie wonders in amusement if Helena is currently freaking out because there definitely were not this many RSVP’s in her Facebook group.

As if she conjured up the woman herself, Helena rushes up to Allie with a panicked look on her face. There are people Allie’s never seen falling out of backseats in fits of giggles, girls running around in barely there bikinis and dude-bros in board shorts lining up shots on the tailgate of a truck. It’s like a very cliché music video set to the sound of Post Malone pumping from someone’s car speakers.

“Are you seeing this shit?”

Allie laughs and reaches behind the seat for her backpack. “Yeah, it’s nuts. Who even are all these people?”

“Friends of friends,” Helena says, rolling her eyes as she takes a headcount. “There has to be over fifty people here already. It’s a good thing Harry rented so many campsites otherwise we’d be totally fucked.”

It’s the first confirmation she’s heard of Harry being the party benefactor but it doesn’t surprise her at all. He was always the one throwing giant parties in high school. His parents even rented an entire hotel for their senior prom, not just a banquet hall but the entire fucking thing.

“Let’s just be thankful no families with children will have to be in a tent next to that.” Allie points with her chin to where Lexie is currently pushed up against the side of a Suburban with a guy kissing down the column of her throat. “So much for a low key camping trip, ‘Lena.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Harry says, coming up to them with a Stella bottle hanging between his fingers. She wonders why he’s just randomly popping up when she knows his friends are here somewhere. Allie notices for the first time that he’s wearing flip flops, briefly stunned by the sight of his sort of bare feet. She’s not sure if she’s ever seen this man’s toes in the entire time they’ve known each other. The four years since high school have been good to him but that’s not a surprise. He has unimaginable wealth and a great job on top of that so she’s not shocked that he’s doing so well for himself so soon after graduating.

She went to school for accounting, ended up at a decent firm after graduating where the median age is mid forties, but she’s living in Brooklyn now which she loves and that’s what counts. Last she heard Harry was living in Manhattan but she doesn’t go that way often and someone like him probably wouldn’t be caught dead in her neighborhood.

Not that she cares or anything because what Harry Bingham does with his time has nothing to do with her.

“Better hope you get your deposit back,” Allie quips as she grabs a bottle of water out of her pack. Harry holds up his beer and asks if she wants one of her own. “No, Harry. It’s like nine-thirty in the morning. And don’t even say it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

Harry chuckles and takes a deep pull from the bottle. She shouldn’t think it’s sexy how he licks his lips after but well, it is. He smirks a little like he knows what she’s thinking and she rolls her eyes.

“I wasn’t going to,” he tells her. “I was just going to remind you that it’s Friday, you’re not at work at that stuffy job you go to every day, and it’s a fucking holiday. Enjoy yourself for once, Pressman.”

There’s not an ounce of heat in his words but it still cuts a little because she has fun, thank you very much. She might spend a lot of time in her studio apartment and she may only have a small group of good friends but she’s happy and that’s what matters. Helena just looks between them with her eyebrows raised, as if she’s waiting for world war three to start right there in the parking lot but Allie just shrugs, grabs the beer from his hand and chugs the rest of it before using her thumb to wipe foam from the side of her lip. Her heart pounds a little as Harry tracks the movement with laser focus and then she’s the one smirking, pushing the empty bottle into his chest.

“Looks like you need a refill.”

The absolute shock on his face makes her feel better than it probably should and Helena’s jaw is practically on the floor.

“Well played, Pressman.” Harry tilts his bottle towards her in what may be a show of respect and leaves again without a word.

“What the hell was that?” Helena presses when he’s out of earshot. Allie just shrugs, asks Helena if she’d mind helping her grab her tent out of the back of the Jeep so she can set up camp somewhere.

***

It’s dark when the real crazy stuff starts to happen.

There’s a group of people running around naked because someone thought it would be a good idea to go skinny dipping in a national park. Allie is pretty sure there are supposed to be park rangers patrolling but she supposes it wouldn’t be hard for a certain someone to grease a few palms to keep them away for the night.

Speak of the devil…

“You look like you could use a drink.”

An ice cold White Claw drops into her lap and she gasps, her thighs bare since she’s just in a bikini top and denim cutoffs.

“What in the fuck, Harry!”

He just laughs, drops down beside her in a pair of bright orange board shorts and nothing else. “Just paying you back for that little stunt with my beer this morning.”

Allie rolls her eyes, pops the cap of the cocktail and drinks half of it in one go. “You deserved that. You’re always antagonizing me. Been that way since we were kids.”

“Bullshit,” he says but when she looks at him out of the corner of her eye he’s grinning a little, fingers playing with the string of his shorts. It’s fucking distracting. “Maybe I was flirting.”

Her cheeks heat a little but she knows Harry, has known him practically all her life. Maybe sometimes things he’s done could be considered flirting but that’s only because he flirts with everyone.

“I’m sure,” she says, finishing off the drink and tossing the can into a bin nearby designated for recycling. “Shouldn’t you be over there with your friends?”

“They aren’t as fun to fuck with as you are.” 

Allie points at him. “Ah! So you admit you like fucking with me!” 

There’s no denying his eyes go a little dark and then she’s wishing that she could take that back because now it just sounds dirty. She’s expecting a dirty comment in return but that’s not at all what she gets.

“Maybe I just like talking to you. Maybe…”

She tilts her head a little when he doesn’t continue. “Maybe what, Harry?”

His teeth scrape across his bottom lip a little as he thinks but then he shakes his head like he’s literally trying to erase a thought from his mind. He stands up abruptly, brushes a little dirt and sand off his board shorts and throws her a casual wink.

“It’s nothing. Have a good night, Al.”

***

She wakes up with the hangover from hell and finds herself cuddled in between Sam and Grizz.

“What the shit?”

Grizz mumbles a little, presses his nose into the back of her neck and she giggles. “Shhh, you’re so comfortable and my brain is heavy.”

It makes no sense at all but she also completely gets it because her brain feels heavy too. It’s hot as fuck in this tent, which she realizes now is not her own. She tries to piece together what happened after Harry left her the night before. Not that she got blackout drunk or anything but she did let Becca and Grizz talk her into Jägerbombs which are never a good idea.

Sam’s eyes blink open and then he smiles and it reminds her of the sleepovers they used to have as kids. She signs, asks him if he wants some coffee and he nods, so she gets up to go find the little brew pot that Helena said she was bringing.

She can see the row of little camp areas stretching all the way down to the end of the lake, each with its own barbecue and campfire area. Every site can fit three or four tents and the one she set her tent up in is shared with Grizz and Sam, Helena and Luke, and Becca. Grizz’s tent is huge with multi rooms and she knows it’s probably because he’s really into spending time outdoors, fishing and camping all over the state. What they are all doing this week borders somewhere on glamping, because she’s almost positive she saw someone set up portable solar panels to run some gaming station and a small television. 

There’s a pack of water bottles next to their makeshift “kitchen” by the campfire so she grabs one, empties it into the brew pot and waits for it to get hot so she can make coffee for her and her friends. Most of the campsites are quiet, which makes sense because it’s eight in the morning and the party raged until at least six this morning. When the coffee is ready she brings a cup to Sam, who puts a finger to his lips and nods to Grizz, who’s already passed out again. Allie grins, hands him the cup and signs have a good morning to him before quietly leaving the tent. 

“Top of the morning to you, Pressman.” 

Harry is helping himself to a cup of coffee from the pot and Allie rolls her eyes. “Don’t you have someone else to bug this morning, Bingham?” 

“I like bugging you more,” he says with a smirk and she doesn’t miss the way he doesn’t say maybe like he did the night before. It’s like he’s finally acknowledging the fact that he’s always trying to get under her skin. She used to think it was because he was annoyed by her but after last night she wonders if maybe she was wrong about that. “Cup of coffee?” 

Allie huffs and takes it from him. “I made that for me and my friends, if you couldn’t tell.” 

Harry puts on a fake pout, which makes his lips look really fucking good and she tries to ignore the little flutter in her stomach when she notices it. “I’m hurt, Al. I thought we were friends?” 

“Why are you even up this early?” She asks, ignoring the question of their friendship. It’s not that they aren’t friendly but they aren’t exactly hanging out on weekends either. Which...okay so she knows they are quite literally hanging out on a weekend right now but that doesn’t count. They have just always known each other, from him being in the same class all through school as Cassandra. She remembers one year when they were science partners and he was at their house once a week during the second semester to complete a project. Cassandra had complained about him being lazy and incompetent but Allie knows he put effort into it because she’d sometimes hang out in the kitchen while they worked and he was always putting in his own ideas just to have her sister throw them out. Which, if you know her sister, is par for the course on pretty much everything. 

“Work hours,” Harry says with a roll of his eyes. “No matter what I do or how late I stay up the night before I’m always up at sunrise. What about you?” 

“Same,” she admits. “I feel like a total bum if I sleep past ten.” 

They both laugh and she realizes they are actually having a conversation, even if it’s stupid and doesn’t really mean anything. But he’s not picking on her and she’s not throwing attitude back at his snark and it’s actually sort of nice. 

“So I hear we have a busy day this morning,” he says as he lowers himself into a folding chair that’s set up near the unlit campfire. “Helena has planned our day down to the minute, it seems.” 

Allie chuckles, pulls up a chair and sets it near him but where she can still see his face. “Sounds like my girl.” 

“Actually it’s my girl,” Luke says from behind her and they all laugh. “You made coffee? Allie, you’re a lifesaver.” 

When she looks at Harry she sees a little flash of disappointment in his eyes and she can’t help but wonder if it’s because it’s not just the two of them anymore.

She also wonders if the same look of disappointment flashes in her own eyes when Harry gets up, tells them he’s off to get ready for the day, and leaves her and Luke to wake up the rest of their friends. 

***

Her feet hurt. 

It was Helena’s idea to take a drive up the road to a hiking trail less than ten minutes away from the lake. And while Allie might have remembered to purchase new hiking boots what she forgot to do was break them in before wearing them. 

“You look miserable,” Harry comments as they move up the trail, which just seems to go up and up and up. He’s not even breaking a sweat and she sees well worn boots on his feet which surprises her. “When was the last time you went hiking?” 

“Um...never?” 

Harry chuckles and pulls her to the side, his hand on her arm as he guides her to a large rock just off the path. “Let me help,” he says, kneeling down in front of her and unlacing her boot. Helena passes by, eyebrows high, but Harry just waves her off, tells the group they will catch up. 

“What are you doing?” Her voice is far more breathless than she wants it to be but holy shit, Harry Bingham is crouched in front of her, picking up her sore foot delicately and placing it on his knee. 

“Helping,” he says simply as he unlaces her boot and works it off her right foot, followed by her sock. After repeating the same steps with her other foot, he places them gently on the ground before standing in front of her. “Lift your legs.” 

“Excuse me?” Her face flushes but he just smirks, grabs each foot and places them on his thighs with her knees together.

“You need to elevate your feet,” he explains as he positions her just so. “It’ll work, trust me.” 

They probably look ridiculous, him standing in front of her with a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes and his hair a ruffled mess and her perched on a rock with her feet on his legs. But he wasn’t wrong and after a few minutes she can feel the pain lessening by the second. 

“How long do I have to do this?” 

Harry looks down at his watch. “About fifteen minutes and we’ve been here for eight so get comfortable.” 

Allie laughs and tilts her head back. “You’re not sitting on the hardest rock known to man. My bony ass can’t handle this.”

“Your ass isn’t that bony,” he says but it’s not an insult, she can tell. It’s definitely a compliment, and a heated one at that.

“Spend a lot of time checking out my ass, Bingham?” 

Harry just shrugs, a little grin playing on his lips as he looks down at her. Her cheeks heat again and she rolls her eyes for something to do because she’s not exactly sure what to say back. The last thing she expected this morning was to be hiking with Harry, who’s apparently some sort of expert, and then have him basically admit to checking her out before. 

“We should catch up with everyone,” she says a few minutes later and he checks his watch again, nods and moves her legs carefully so she can put her shoes and socks back on. “Thanks,” she says quietly as she flexes her toes. “That really did help.” 

“You should trust me more often.” He puts a hand out for her to grab and she accepts, ignores the little electricity she feels when her skin touches his. It’s hard not to be attracted to someone like Harry, who exudes confidence in everything that he does. And he’s obviously not bad to look at even though he dresses like a future senator eighty percent of the time and wears his cockiness like a badge. He just keeps showing her these little sides of personality that she’s never seen before and frankly, it’s hard to ignore. 

They make up time quickly, thanks to Harry’s hiking skills and her mostly refreshed feet. When they reach the others everyone is standing at the top of the little mountain they just climbed, eyes focused on something in the distance. 

“What is everyone looking at?” Allie asks no one in particular but stops short with a little gasp when she takes in the view they are all gaping at. The entire lake is visible from their viewpoint, the crystal blue water shimmering in the mid afternoon sun. She can see their side of the lake, with people milling around the sites like little ants. There are boats pulling people on water skis and tons of water crafts making waves for people in floating inner tubes. The lake is surrounded by trees on three sides and Allie thinks it might be one of the most beautiful views she’s ever seen in real life. 

“This is breathtaking,” she says, mostly to herself, but then she feels a hand bump hers as Harry steps up next to her. 

“It sure is,” he says quietly, his eyes sliding from the view before them to her face and then back again. His pinkie touches the side of her hand just barely and the idea to reach over to hold his hand is sudden and unexpected. She doesn’t do it but she finds that she wants to and that confuses her even more.

***

“Fifty bucks says I can chug this entire bottle of Jack in under a minute!” 

Allie rolls her eyes as she passes by a group of guys that she went to high school with, all of them former jocks and not so bright. 

“Pretty sure fifty bucks isn’t going to be enough to get your stomach pumped,” she tosses back in their direction before heading towards the campfire that’s currently warming the majority of her friend group. 

After the hike they spent the day in the water, swimming and riding around on the Jet Skis that Helena had brought for the weekend. Harry offered to rent a boat to take them out but the boats were all rented out by the time they made it back to the lake.

“Tomorrow then,” he had said, dropping his credit card on the counter and winking at the girl making the reservations. Allie’d rolled her eyes and Harry had just laughed and winked at her too.

It’s hard not to notice that he looks really good right now, sitting by the fire with a bottle of beer hanging from his fingertips, his skin perfectly tanned from being in the sun all day. He’s wearing board shorts again but he finally put a shirt on, a white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It annoys her that he can make anything look good. 

The little smile he gives her when she walks up to the fire pit is almost too much to handle. 

“Need a drink?” Becca asks, pushing a wine cooler into her hand before she can even answer. Allie laughs, thanks her and lowers herself into a chair that just happens to be next to Harry. He smirks a little around the mouth of his beer but doesn’t comment on where she chose to sit down. 

“When do the fireworks start?” She asks Helena, who checks her watch before pointing towards the west of the lake, where there’s no trees and wide open skies. 

“They will be over there in about an hour,” she says. “They won’t be super close because they are technically lit in town but we’ll see the show pretty clearly.” 

They sit around for the next forty minutes drinking and laughing around the fire. Luke and Clark decide to have a rock skipping competition and Allie laughs as everyone scurries around to find the perfect flat rock to enter. Right before the fireworks are about to start Harry nudges her, leans over so he’s almost whispering in her ear.

“Want to find somewhere quiet to watch the show?” 

Everyone around them is either drunk, searching for rocks or both, and no one is paying attention when she nods, stands up and tells him to lead the way. 

They walk side by side next to the lake heading away from the party that’s already raging despite the fact that it’s barely ten at night. Allie practically chokes when they pass a couple full on having sex against a tree and Harry laughs, steers them away from the obnoxious moaning and towards an empty spot on the beach. 

“I should have bought a blanket,” he complains as he settles in the sand and Allie smiles as she drops down next to him. 

“A little sand never hurt anyone. Don’t be a baby.” He quirks an eyebrow at her and she giggles, which she only does when she’s this side of perfectly drunk. 

Harry is quiet as he pulls his knees up and sits with his arms dangling in between them. “You’ve been different today,” he says so softly she can barely hear him. “More like you used to be.” 

“What does that mean?” She’s sitting cross legged and stays that way as she turns so she’s facing him. He just shrugs which makes her roll her eyes. “You’ve been different too.” 

“Oh yeah?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and she nods. “How so?” 

She snorts, leans back on her hands which makes her knees touch the side of his leg. “If you’re not going to tell me, why should I tell you?” 

“What are we, twelve?” He says on a laugh and she shrugs, giving him a dose of his own medicine. He sighs, like it’s a total inconvenience to explain something that he started anyways. “You were fun. Carefree.” 

“It was a good day,” she says and he nods. “And you were flirting with me, which is new.” It’s a bold statement because maybe he wasn’t, maybe it was just like all the other times when he was flirty because he’s Harry Bingham and that’s just how he is. He charms, it’s in his DNA. 

Harry scoffs a little and shakes his head like she’s missing something. “Me flirting with you is not new, Allie.” 

The way he says her name does something to her, the way she can see his tongue when his mouth forms the word. They aren’t saying anything, just staring at each other when the first boom of fireworks sounds off overhead. Neither of them startle or even really acknowledge the show going off above them. She likes the way the colors flash across his face, bright blue and neon pink, and before she realizes what’s happening he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers quickly in a surprisingly gentle and innocent kiss. 

He pulls away first, rests his forehead on hers with a little smile playing on his face. 

“What was that?” The words are practically whispered, breath feather light over almost touching lips. 

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t go to kiss her again, just smiles softly before pulling away.

Allie smiles too and pulls away, rests her hands behind her in the sand and settles in to watch the show.

***

“Where did you run off to last night?” 

The campsites are stirring the next morning with activity as everyone wakes up after the sun is high and the weather is warm. Helena is sitting by the campfire, a cup of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. 

“I went for a walk,” Allie says carefully, not sure if she should say anything about what happened with Harry or not. They only shared one little kiss, and while it was wildly romantic with the fireworks sounding off above them, she’s not quite sure where they go from here. “What are you up to?”

Helena holds up her phone. “Trying to secure our boat for the day online. Harry already gave his credit card information to the rental place, I’m on hold.” 

It’s then that Allie can hear the hold music playing quietly from Helena’s phone which is on speaker mode. Allie snorts when she recognizes the song, some piano version of a top 40 hit, and pours herself a cup of coffee. 

A few minutes later a woman’s voice comes over the line, letting Helena know that she’s secured a boat for them that they can pick up in an hour. Helena thanks the woman and ends the call, stands up and wipes sand from the back of her shorts. 

“This place is too fucking sandy,” she says and Allie laughs into her coffee mug. “I’m going to start rounding up the usual suspects. You’re in, right?” 

Allie nods. “Definitely. I’ll get ready and meet you back here at ten.” 

She finishes up her drink and heads to her tent to get ready for the day. There are two options for swimming suits, the one she wore yesterday which was bright blue and white, perfect for the fourth. But she decides on the flashier suit she’d purchased just because it was beautiful in the store and she couldn’t help herself. She slides on a pair of denim shorts and throws a sun hat on for good measure. She’s just finished applying sunscreen when a throat clearing at the tent’s entrance makes her jump. 

“Jesus, Allie.” 

Harry is standing there, one fist up to his mouth as he takes her in from head to toe. And now she knows this bathing suit was worth the price tag because he’s looking at her like he never has before. 

“That suit..” 

Allie laughs quietly and looks down at the top, a white ruffled halter top embellished with gold jewels that sit right under her breasts. There’s an additional piece connected to the bottoms that wraps around her middle that is purely for show, the gold jewels trailing down her stomach to meet the top of her shorts. With her recently tanned skin the stark white of the suit pops, making her look even more sunkissed. 

“You like?” She asks with a cocked eyebrow and Harry nods slowly as he takes her in.

He looks around outside quickly before stepping into her tent. “That is by far the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says when he’s right in front of her. She inhales sharply when he gently touches the jeweled piece on her tummy. He’s making her feel all kinds of things and he’s not even touching her skin. 

“I’m glad you like it,” she says breathlessly and it makes him smile. Feeling a little bold she pushes up closer to him, leans up so she can whisper in his ear. “Wait until you see the rest of it.” 

Harry lets out a little groan that makes her giggle as she pushes past him. She’s not exactly sure why she’s being so bold, or flirty at all for that matter, but it’s like their kiss from the night before has unlocked something she didn’t really know how to admit before. 

She sort of likes him.

Half an hour later she’s got a beer in her hand as the boat floats lazily along the lake. It was big enough for a fairly large group of people and they are everywhere, laughing and drinking like it’s not before noon on a Sunday. Helena and Luke are talking quietly and kissing in a corner and Allie finds herself wishing for the first time in a long time that she had someone in her life to giggle and kiss whenever she wanted. 

“They are disgustingly in love, don’t you think?” 

Harry chooses that moment to drop down beside her, his chin nodding towards the engaged couple. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Allie says, her eyes taking in Harry’s board shorts and bare chest. A pair of Ray Bans cover his eyes as he lays down in the lounge chair next to hers and gets comfortable. He rests his phone face down on his stomach and Allie snorts. “You’re going to get a weird tan if you leave that there.” 

Harry just smirks and glances at her suit. “You’re one to talk, Pressman” 

Allie just shakes her head with a laugh. “I lathered myself up in sunscreen before we left. I think I’ll be okay.” 

Harry shifts in his chair and gives her a heated look. “I know, I saw.” 

She remembers him coming in after she put on her sunscreen, wonders how long he was standing there before he cleared his throat.

“Perv,” she says with a smile to show him she’s not mad and he laughs, a bright and loud sound that makes a few people look their way.

They spend the day eating, drinking and playing in the lake. By the time they dock she’s perfectly buzzed, warmed by the setting sun and the margaritas Elle made for the girls on the boat. 

“Let’s party!” Clark yells as he jumps into the sand and Allie rolls her eyes as everyone cheers as if that’s not what they’ve been doing all day. But it is their last night here so she follows her tipsy friends through the campsites until they arrive back at hers, which is apparently party central tonight.

Someone turns on music and Billie Eilish starts playing, a thumping bass beat that has everyone up and dancing around the now lit campfire. Elle stumbles up to her, a wide grin splitting her face, and Allie knows the girl is definitely tequila wasted right now which means she’s probably feeling on top of the world.

“Dance with me!” 

Allie laughs and lets Elle pull her into the crowd of people dancing to “Bad Guy” like it hasn’t been on the radio for the past two summers. She turns when she feels eyes on her, sees Harry sitting on the tailgate of Luke’s truck. His eyes are following her every move, and he doesn’t look away as he takes a pull from the long neck bottle in his hands. Even from this far away she can feel her skin heat when he licks his lips, eyes fixed on her like he doesn’t see anyone else. 

“Dude, I think Harry likes you!” Elle yells over the music and Allie stills, tears her eyes away from him to face her friend. 

“What makes you say that?” 

Elle shrugs, which looks ridiculous because she’s drunk dancing all over the place. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since we got here. Go talk to him.” 

Allie pales, looks around to see if anyone is listening to this conversation. It’s not that she really cares what anyone thinks, and he has been flirting with her more than usual. But he’s a known womanizer and it honestly scares her a little to think that maybe this is just the norm for him. Flirting with a girl until he gets what he wants and where will she be then? In a surprisingly sober move Elle puts her hands on Allie’s shoulders and looks her in the eye. 

“Stop being afraid, Al.” 

Allie takes a deep breath and nods, stands up taller and squares her shoulders back as she heads to where Harry’s sitting. 

His eyebrows go up a little in surprise when she stops right in front of him, practically standing in between where his legs are open and dangling off the tailgate. 

“What are we doing, Harry? You kiss me last night and then never mention it, and now you’re watching me like…” 

“Like what?” He asks when she doesn’t finish her sentence and she melts a little at the deep and husky tone of his voice. “Tell me, Allie.” 

“Like you want to do it again and never stop.” 

He lets out a little breath of surprise as she steps in between his legs and leans up to kiss him. When he doesn’t immediately return the kiss she sort of panics but then he’s sliding down off the tailgate and pulling her into his arms to deepen the kiss. It’s not like the sweet kiss from the night before, it’s raw and full of emotion, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip until she’s weak in the knees. 

There are hoots and hollers around them as he continues to kiss her but she doesn’t care. Maybe it’s the faint tequila buzz she’s still feeling or maybe it’s just how drunk she’s getting off this kiss, the taste of expensive beer on Harry’s lips as he sips at her lips her right there in front of their friends. 

“Maybe we should rejoin the party,” he murmurs against her lips several minutes later and she smiles, reaches for his hand and pulls him in the direction of his tent one campsite over. 

“Maybe we should have our own?” 

He practically growls in agreement and follows behind her as she makes her way through the crowd. Elle winks her as they pass and Allie just grins, turns around to see Harry’s eyes lit up with alcohol and want, as they make their way over to his tent. 

***

The lake is quiet when she steps down to the shore the next morning. It’s still early, everyone getting some much needed rest after the debauchery of the night before. Even from Harry’s tent, where they spent the night making out (plus a little more) and talking until neither could keep their eyes open, they could hear the party raging from the next campsite over.

“Morning, Pressman.” 

Allie smiles when Harry comes up behind her, puts his arms around her waist and drops a kiss to her temple. “Good morning to you too.” 

“I didn’t like waking up alone,” he admits quietly. “I fell asleep with you in my arms, kinda wanted to wake up like that too.” 

The sentiment is sweet and it makes her heart beat furiously in her chest. “What happens next, Harry?” 

He kisses her cheek. “What do you mean?” 

Allie sighs, turns around in his arms so she can look up at him. “I mean, we’re on vacation. This weekend has been fun but what happens in two hours when it ends?” 

“Then we don’t let it end,” he says simply. “You swear like Brooklyn and Manhattan are two separate planets. We can do this, Allie. I want to.” 

She inhales sharply, surprised by how earnest his words are. “You do?” 

Harry rolls his eyes a little and chuckles. “Allie, I’ve liked you since high school. This shouldn’t be such a shock.” 

“I didn’t know,” she says but maybe she just missed it. Maybe all the flirting, every time he randomly joined in a conversation, maybe it wasn’t him being a womanizer. Maybe he really did just like her. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“Honestly?” He asks and she rolls her eyes as if to say duh. “It just never felt like the right time. You were younger, your sister hated me. One of us was always dating someone else. And then life, you know?” 

She nods because she does know. “Well I’m glad you told me now. But I do have issue with one thing that you said.” 

His eyebrows dip together. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

Allie smiles as she leans up to kiss him. “Manhattan and Brooklyn are like two different planets.” 

Harry laughs and wraps his arms around her, dropping kisses from her mouth to her shoulder and then back up again. 

“Guess we’ll just have to compromise,” he says, turning her around so they can watch the sun shine on the still water of the lake. “Some nights at my place, some nights at yours.” 

“Sounds perfect.”

She settles back into his arms, enjoying the way the sun warms her face as it rises high in the sky, welcoming the new day.