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jaylamcd68 · 3 years ago

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The Rookie 4x09

The Rookie mid-season finale

Spoilers Ahead

Lucy and Nolan arrest a robber at a jewelry store. Nolan is thinking of proposing to Bailey. Nolan’s ideas are very simple and Lucy says they will workshop it back at the station.

At Nolan’s house, Bailey is helping him decorate his tree. She has been staying with him every since her injury but now she’s feeling better. Nolan wants she and Henry to “meet” over FaceTime but Bailey says she’s running late for her first day back and runs out the door.

Lucy, Genny, and Tim are working on the old Bradford homestead, Genny and Lucy are reminiscing on old childhood traditions and Tim is not here for it. Lucy thinks they need closure with the house and Tim turns the saw on so he can’t hear her. Lucy calls Tim an idiot 😂

John and Nyla are walking through the station and he asks her if she’s voted for union rep yet. He then asks her opinion on big flashy proposals for which Nyla thinks are tacky but reminds John that he doesn’t need to take what she and Lucy think into account, the only opinion that should matter is Bailey’s.

Tamara arrives at the station to do an interview with Sgt. Grey. Grey asks if they can reschedule because something came up. Her paper is supposed to be on how age changes cops perspectives throughout their careers and so then Grey introduces her to Smitty who is putting up counter posters to John’s campaign .. Smitty says to ask him anything because there is nothing he doesn’t know about policing and Tamara points out he made a spelling mistake on his poster 😂🙈

Grey runs a briefing on the Elijah Stone operation. They want Wesley to plant a listening device in Elijah’s office.

Tamara is trying to ask Smitty questions and he’s not being very helpful. He then asks her to help him “post a meme” of Nolan getting stuck behind a fence, obviously trying to run a smear campaign in his efforts to win union rep.

Nyla and John are in a surveillance vehicle waiting for Wesley to meet with Elijah. Nyla gets a text from her skip tracer guy who she’s paying to try and find leverage so that Donovan won’t get custody and move with Lila to San Fransisco.

Back at the Bradfords Lucy is telling them they should consider themselves lucky because she always begged her parents to give her a sibling and they just got her a cute but smelly turtle, to which Genny replies cute and smelly pretty much sums up Tim’s teenage years (I hate them glossing over Tim’s pain but I also love the dynamic between Genny and Lucy .. ugh 🙈) Then Tim finds a gun inside the wall 😳 The serial number has been filed off and Lucy says they have to run it for ballistics. Genny is in disbelief that the gun was actually used for a crime but Tim insists they have to figure it out now and tells Lucy they have to go. Genny says she knew he would have some excuse to leave today. Lucy goes after Tim and points out that Genny has a point, that he himself doesn’t have to do this, he could get someone else to run it down, to which Tim replies that a good sgt. doesn’t create work for his officers but Lucy questions whether the emotions of tearing through his childhood home actually have a bigger impact on him than he’s letting on.

Back with John and Nyla, her guy found out that Donovan’s fiancé used to be an escort, which would help her win her custody case but she doesn’t like the idea of using this girl’s past to win an issue when that’s exactly what Donovan was doing to her with her undercover work.

Wesley goes into his meeting with Elijah but they make a mistake because the bug they gave him to plant creates interference with the walkie talkies they use so Elijah finds it immediately. Elijah knows immediately that Angela and the LAPD are out there listening. When Grey eventually comes in he warns Elijah to not lay a hand on any member of the Lopez-Evers family but Elijah responds that he won’t need to because Wesley screwed himself over by betraying the confidence of a client so he is going to report him to the California bar for breaching confidentiality.

The ballistics report came back on the gun and Lucy is filling Tim in on it, apparently it was used 25 years ago to kill a man who lived down the street. Tim was 14 when he was murdered. Apparently his dad hated the guy, but Lucy says his dad had an alibi, the victims wife, Mrs Ochoa. But then Tim explains that his dad and Mrs Ochoa were having an affair, so if the husband found out that actually would have given his dad motive to kill him.

Grey Angela and Wes are in Grey’s office. Grey tells Wesley he did good today but Wes feels like he didn’t do good enough and he’s still scared about what is next.

Tamara asks John why he’s letting Smitty walk all over him - Smitty is talking smack about John but Nolan doesn’t want to stoop to his level. Tamara walks back over to Smitty and tells him she will help him go viral like he asked her for help doing earlier (oh dear, I can only see this ending badly for Smitty 😂)

Lucy chases after Tim asking him where he is going. The wife is in interrogation and he is going to go question her about being his father’s alibi. Lucy points out that they need to do this right, which means not letting him question his father’s mistress about murdering her husband so Tim hands Lucy the file and tells her to go do it.

Mrs Ochoa goes over the evening exactly how it was stated in the initial interview. Lucy starts asking her more about if Mr Bradford had left at any point in the evening and how often she visited the Bradford residence and Mrs Ochoa gets very defensive and leaves. Tim comes out from the observation room and confronts her but she still just storms off. He thinks she is covering for his father.

Back at the Lopez-Evers residence Angela explains that they will have round the clock police surveillance for the next 72 hours and their new security system bypasses 911 and directly sends a red alert to all police officers in the surrounding area if triggered. Wesley says he is probably going to lose his law license but on the upside, more time with Jack. Angela then says she has to return to work because she’s not letting that criminal beat them.

Nyla meets Donovan outside of the precinct to talk about the custody battle. Basically the same arguments are had and Nyla says she’ll see him in court.

Tim visits his father at the hospice. His dad says he never thought he’d see his face again. Tim confronts his dad about the affair, about the murder. His dad seems to be just as much an ass hole and says so what if he did kill Frank Ochoa. He gets up out of his bed and basically taunts Tim to do something to him which of course Tim does not. Tim leaves angrily.

Nolan tries to FaceTime with both Henry and Bailey but Henry’s connection is poor and then Bailey has to leave for a fire call. Nyla comes to get him because Angela and Grey have a break in the case. They know how Elijah is smuggling drugs into the country - he had mentioned one of his lackey’s was making a trip to the food bank earlier during his meeting with Wesley. They theorize that he is smuggling drugs in fake cans of food. But obviously he knows that they overheard that comment so he would likely be moving the product ASAP.

They plan a raid of the food bank. They get fired upon but they drop two suspects and the last, Elijah’s right hand man, surrenders. The guy says he’s not saying anything but Angela tells him he doesn’t need to because they have enough to put him and Elijah away for a long time - the cans are full of white powder.

Back at the station Lucy approaches Tim who tells her that his dad confessed to Frank Ochoa’s murder and he’s typing up the report now. Lucy stops him and says that she brought Mrs Ochoa back in for questioning after he left because she didn’t think her story lined up. Tim asks what Mrs Ochoa said and then it cuts to Tim entering back into his dad’s hospice room. He tells his dad he knows he didn’t kill Frank. Frank was beating his wife and she shot him, and terrified she ran to Mr Bradford who came up with the burglary story. Mr Bradford says she deserved a medal for what she did because he was an abusive asshole to which Tim replies “HE was an abusive asshole???” His dad tries to say he is nothing like that man and he did what he needed to do to teach Tim how to be a man and Tim says he is who he is despite of his dad. He then tells his father “Goodbye dad, I hope it hurts” (😳😂🙈) In the hall Lucy is waiting for Tim (🥺❤️) Tim is not okay because his dad was protecting Mrs Ochoa when he never ever did anything to protect them as kids. Tim says the Tim tests don’t make him anything like his dad, to which Lucy responds that she knows he is nothing like him and pulls him into a hug (this half makes up for her behaviour in the last episode even though it was her comment in the first place that put that idea in his head 😭🥺)

John asks Nyla how it went with Donovan earlier and she tells him it was unsuccessful but she couldn’t use the info she had on the fiancé, but John tells her if Donovan is not playing fair she can’t either because she ultimately needs to do what is best for Lila, so Nyla agrees to give the info to her Lawyer. Angela comes in to tell them the judge signed off on the warrant for Elijah.

As the squad of cars are approaching elijah’s office dispatch informs them that they have 911 calls reporting multiple gun shots at the address, and no police have arrived yet. They arrive at the building and everyone in it is dead except for Elijah himself who was hiding in a closet. When he comes out and Angela asks who did this Elijah says Abril, who was La Fiera’s head of security. Apparently although everyone thought La Fiera’s cartel had dismantled, she had actually taken over and had come for revenge for giving up La Fiera’s location to the Wesley during the search for Angela.

Back at the station they fill everyone else in on the situation. Abril and her members also hit three competing gangs and regained all of La Fiera’s lost territory.

Tamara arrives at the end of this and Lucy asks what she is doing here. Tamara says she is making things right 😂 she then plays a video that has Smitty admitting that he can’t beat Nolan without playing dirty because Nolan actually has a platform that addresses real issues 😂

Back at the Bradford house Genny is cleaning up the mess from the drywall and Tim comes in seeing she has completed all the demo work. Tim apologizes to Genny for not being there for her and being a better big brother. Genny says he’s not that bad, when he’s around. Tim says that that is going to change now, he plans on visiting every holiday and weekly phone calls, and fixing up the house and selling it. He tells her to go home and be with her family. She says he’s her family too, so why don’t they fix it up and be done with it together. He agrees. When Genny asks whatever happened to that gun he just kind of stares and keeps sweeping.

John arrived back at his place and Bailey is there FaceTiming Henry and apparently had been for the last hour. Bailey leaves to go jump in the shower and Henry states that he feels like there is a reason why John has been trying to get them to face time over the last two days to which he asks his dad if he plans on proposing (side note: I feel like this is a ridiculous plot line since they have literally only been dating for like 6 episodes and thus like maybe 3 months on the show 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️)

Donovan comes up to Nyla as she is exiting the precinct and says he didn’t think she would stoop this low about giving her lawyer the info on his fiancé being a former escort. Nyla tells him to hold on because she tried to have a conversation with him about it but he left her no choice. He tells Nyla that she won because the move is off .. he broke up with her because he can’t be with another woman who lies.

Back at the Lopez-Evers household Wesley comments that he guesses the security system is going to be in place for a while now, but Angela points out that it probably won’t do much good if Abril wants her dead since Abril killed 8 armed men singlehandedly. Angela gets a phone call and it’s ABRIL!! She is calling to inform her that unlike La Fiera she only kills when it is strategically advantageous for her business and killing a police detective and her family would be bad for business so as long as she doesn’t follow her back to Guatemala then they have no issues with each other.

John and Bailey are out to eat and he tells her he is in love with her. But immediately afterwards some guy named Jason approaches their table. Bailey asks him when did he get out and he says last week. Nolan is like I’m John her boyfriend who are you, and he replies I’m her husband 😳😂😂😂😂 (Sorry but I just really don’t love the Bailey character, which makes me sad because I actually adore Jenna Dewan and have since her Step Up Days)

#the rookie #the rookie spoilers #the rookie season 4 #chenford #i was more happy with this episode #still some trauma glossing though #but lucy was way more supportive of tim #ANOTHER CHENFORD HUG #still hate that they are making nyla's whole story line about custody of her kid again #also was very bummed at the lack of christmas in this christmas episode #lets hope the new year brings new life into our fav show

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sylvies-chen · 4 years ago

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Chenford + #11 “Wow, you look… amazing.”

Thank you!!!

The LAPD throws a charity event for the first time in forever.

It's for a good cause, Lucy supposes. But there are fountains there and expensive champagne and more glass chandeliers than she can count, and she thinks the LAPD might have their priorities a little backward, spending more money than will actually be donated. Whatever. These rich snobs are donating to a good charity at the end of the night. That's all that matters.

What also matters, admittedly, is that she gets to wear a dress. Call her vain, or girly, or too self-obsessed, but Lucy's been spending the last six months doing UC operations and minor drug busts. That whole ordeal involves more sweatpants and messy buns than she cares to admit, so going to this function with her colleagues is like a dream come true. She picks her favourite black satin slip dress, with a small slit to let her leg breathe at the bottom, and her favourite pearl earrings. Nova may be a slob but Lucy Chen is a sucker for nice dresses. Especially if it's for a good cause.

If someone just happens to take a good look at her and drool, that's an added bonus.

They're about an hour into this charity event, Lucy chatting with Jackson and Nolan in between the shallow speeches of various high-ups in the LAPD, when she sees Tim Bradford walking in from across the room.

He's an hour late.

He looks grumpy as hell.

She doesn't even think he made a donation yet.

But damn. If he doesn't look good in a tux.

Lucy feels herself being drawn towards him before she can even stop herself. Neither Jackson nor Nolan seem to notice her drift from the conversation so she keeps walking towards Tim. His eyes meet hers when she's halfway there and soon trail all the way down her body, absorbing the full glamour of the outfit before looking back up to her eyes with a surprised gaze.

"Hi," he blurts, as if shocked that she's here.

"Hey, you finally made it." Lucy feels a blush creep onto her cheeks and fights the urge she gets to try and swat it or slap it away.

What is it with Tim Bradford and making her a complete mess?

"Wow, you look... amazing," he awes, scratching at the back of his neck.

The blush on her cheeks intensifies instantly. "Thank you," she offers shyly.

For whatever reason, whether it be the dress she's wearing or the way he's ogling her like she's the only thing worth a damn in the room, she feels confident. So, before she can talk herself out of it, she smooths out a tiny wrinkle on his suit and pats his chest gently, pinching the bowtie momentarily. Her hand lingers on second too long, but she pulls away quickly when she realizes it. "You clean up pretty nice yourself. I didn't know you had such nice suits, Officer Bradford."

"I just don't get many occasions to wear them, that's all. Or ones I want to be at, at least," he adds under his breath.

"Is that why you showed up an hour late to this thing?"

"Maybe," he replies cryptically.

"What's your grudge against this event anyway? They do it every year, and it's for charity. Shouldn't you be used to it by now? Isn't this a good thing?"

"That's cute," Tim scoffs amusedly. "No, charity is the last thing these events are about. First, it's good PR for the LAPD. Then, it's blatant ass-kissing and networking for cops who want to climb the chain. Then you have your regular rich wives wanting their husbands to take them out more often, the lonely guys like Smitty who only come to get out of the house. Then maybe, maybe, it's charity."

"Oh come on," she chuckles. "You're too cynical sometimes, you know that? This is a good cause, it's good people helping good people!"

"Did they even tell you what the charity is?"

"I--" she bites her tongue, thinking about it for a moment before scrunching her nose in embarrassment. "No, they didn't actually."

"It's for animals. They're donating the money to an animal hospital, one that just so happens to host the main rehabilitation clinic for injured police dogs and horses."

"Huh," she replies, slightly bashful.

"What was that about me being cynical again?" Tim throws her a confident smirk and Lucy finds it more than a little attractive, even through her slight frustration.

"Oh shut it," Lucy giggles, rolling her eyes. "You get cocky when you're right about something."

"I must be cocky a lot then," he offers, again with that damn smirk. She shouldn't find it as hot as she does. He's her former T.O. and Lucy's pretty sure Jackson doesn't think these things about Angela. No, she's definitely straying beyond professional and it makes her brain turn to exhausted mush. But frankly, they've been pushing that line for months now.

She doesn't know when the flirting started, or when it became more than professional, but something's been going on between them for some time. So yeah. She's alright admitting to herself that she finds him attractive. They haven't acted on it which means it's still completely fine. She's in no trouble yet, right?

"Well you certainly didn't have that cocky swagger when you walked in and saw me in this dress," she points out before she can think about how stupid it must sounds. Especially to Tim who, for all she knows, harbours no feelings whatsoever. It's a bold statement for her, to say the least.

"I..." he swallows hard, his eyes never leaving hers but still pooling up with something intense and unwavering and... complicated.

Fuck. Did Lucy just make a total ass of herself? Did she just put them in an awkward position?

"I didn't, did I?" He finally speaks, looking at her bashfully. "I'll admit, I was a little... surprised by it, that's all."

Her face lights up, a cocky smile of her own forming now. It's mixed with the slightest amount of amusement and is crooked because yes. Lucy's had a few too many glasses of the champagne . She's a little carefree tonight. Sue her.

"Admit it," she chuckles, pointing an amused finger at him. "Just say it, man: I look hot!"

"I already said you look amazing, I think we've covered that," he backtracks with a blush of his own crawling onto his cheeks.

"No way," Lucy protests with a laugh. "Amazing is different than hot. Everyone can call a good hamburger amazing or-- or a donation to charity amazing, but no one calls it hot. Hot is different."

He stares at her, bewildered. "You've had too much of that champagne, haven't you?"

"A little bit, yeah," she admits with a snort.

"Fine," Tim decides after a beat of silence.

Lucy's confused for a second. She doesn't quite know what his grumbled and begrudging "fine" means but suddenly, Tim's stepping in, leaning close to her until his lips brush against the hair near her ear. It sends a shiver down the back of her neck.

"You look... very hot in that dress," he admits, his voice raspy and low in a way that drives Lucy crazy. And shit, if it isn't the most confusingly sexy thing that's happened to her in a while.

Tim backs up after that, flashes her a bashful smile, and walks away to talk to Grey. Lucy stands there in place, frozen by every muscles of hers that feels like it's on fire, and thinks maybe she's in a hell of a lot more trouble than she realized.

#it's 1 am here and this could be total ass but I sort of like it??#flirty chenford rights!!!!#abby writes #prompt requests #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #lucy x tim #tim x lucy #chenford fanfiction #fanfic prompts

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 5 years ago

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War & Heartbreak (DonnyxFem!Reader)

Requested by @valiantbandit

@owba-chan @inglourious-imagines @war-obsessed @tealaquinn @struggling-bee

It had been a long mission, and a long way back to a friendly tavern in France. It was basically a haven for traitors, resistance fighters, and of course, the basterds. You were sitting in a booth with the Omar, Hirschberg, Wicki and Smitty. Donny appeared, and held his hand out as the band played something lively. "Wanna dance?" Your heart skipped a beat when you looked at those big familiar brown eyes.

You shook your head, "Nah...thanks, I don't dance." Omar rested his head back against the seat with a frustrated groan.

That was a big fucking lie. All the basterds knew it.

Boy, could you swing... They couldn't kick you out of clubs back home. Omar should know. He was there. He was the one that had to drag you home every time. And he called your bluff. "That ain't like you at all." You scowled at him, trying to get him to shut up. But of course...He didn't. He was Omar Ulmer.

The man never kept his fucking mouth shut. After only a few missions together, the basterds had pieced that together, Donny smirked, "Come on, don't be shy, Y/n." You rolled your eyes, and got to your feet, and danced with Donny. You were a little rusty, but...you never lose your touch. Especially when you danced with someone as enchanting (and left-footed) as that basterd...

Someone had to lead after all.

He made sure to hold you a little more gently than he was used to. You'd gotten a bit bruised up after that mission.

That was a bit of an understatement.

You took a bullet for Donny.

Literally, in your ribs, and your arm.

You were understandably a little less into the dance, and a bit more tired than usual, and you both sat at the counter together. The band began to play something smoother, something for the lovers, as the bar's main attraction, a lovely French girl with a lovelier smile, and even lovelier voice, captured the night.

Along with Donny's heart.

You didn't notice. You were blinded by him...

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm such a bad dancer." He chuckled a little as he took a drink.

You giggled, "I've had worse."

He got a little flustered, which in turn made you blush as he managed to say, "I just needed to pull you away for a minute."

"Oh?" Your heart skipped a beat, and he nodded with a wide grin. "Yeah, I needed to ask ya something!" "Yeah?" You could practically feel your heart bursting. "What's that?" "Well...you're a lady...and I feel like you're pretty fucken classy, and everything. There's no one better to ask, but...I really like that girl that's singing... I've liked her since we first came to this tavern." You remembered... It was after your first mission. You cursed yourself...How didn't you notice? "And I wanted to ask if you think I'm good enough to ask this girl out."

You shook your head slightly at yourself. How could you even think he was going to ask you? "Get it together, Y/n..."

You didn't wan to ruin it for Donny. He seemed so happy, just looking at her. You loved him so much, you wanted him to be happy, with or withour you... Even if it hurt. "What are you talking about?! You're Donny Donowitz! You're telling me you haven't noticed the way she looks at you every time we're here? You haven't noticed she goes out of her way to come say hi to you? You really telling me you're gonna let a nice girl like her slip away? Goddamn, Donny. I knew you weren't the brightest, but-" He laughed, "Alright, alright, I get it." "Well?" You pushed him gently, and he looked at you, blushing a little hesitantly, "You...You really think so, Y/n?" You nodded, holding your breath and your heart, "Yeah...Yeah she's a sweetheart, and a looker too....You...You're a big bad basterd, of course you can. So uh....go get her, tiger." He grinned, as if you'd given him all the confidence in the world as he got up. He flung his arms around you, just as he always did... He was a big softie, and that was one of the things that made you love him so much... You leaned your head on his forearm, and patted his upper arm affectionately and silently saying goodbye to the tomorrow that could have been... You clenched your teeth, holding back the teary knot in your throat. In a moment, his warm friendly embrace was too little, and all too much, all at once. You quickly nudged him away, with an encouraging, internally broken smile. He left, though you could still feel his touch... You looked up after what felt like a million years, only to find him and the singer laughing the night away, and dancing... You looked down at your half-empty mug of beer, with a broken hearted sigh. You zoned out, the lively tavern sounding like a distant echo, the warm orange light seeming to dim. Everything felt so empty, so breathless... So much so that when you snapped out of it, you found yourself sitting on the steps of the bar, looking out into the street. A cool breeze blew past you, relieving the sweltering summer heat. Your left hand was wrapped around your empty drink, your right arm pressing against your wounded ribs as your hand grasped around your bandaged upperarm.

The numbing, dull ache from the bullets seemed to spread to your chest, feeling your heart sink with heaviness.

You didn't seem to notice that you'd wandered away.

What was worse, Donny didn't notice... You could pick out his muffled laugh through the chattering crowds, the singing, the band, and the thick glass. Still... someone else did notice you were gone. You heard boots stopping behind you, and it startled you. You reached for your knife, and turned, only to find Omar standing there. "Oh, it's you." "Yup, just me." Omar smiled softly.

He'd known all along. He knew more about you than any basterd. He thought he knew where to find you, and panicked when he didn't. "I've been looking everywhwere for you." "No one's ever done that before." You muttered... He sighed, "Look, Donny's not the only bat-swinging asshole from Boston." Omar smiled , resting his hand on your shoulder. "Come on, Y/n. He's not a big deal. You've known the guy for what, two months? It's gonna be ok." You nodded with a weary sigh as you glanced back at Omar briefly... You and Omar went way back. Way back. You'd been friends since middle school.... He didn't have many friends before you, honestly. In fact, you might have been his first true friend. You were always there for him. You got him his first date. You helped him ask a girl to prom. You helped him ask that same girl to be his wife. You were just that kind of friend, carrying everyone's pains, laughs, and memories in your heart. Slowly it all built up. Slowly it started to drag you down... It was tough always being everyone’s unconditional friend, always sticking around, when no one seemed to do the same. You didn't fall in love too easily, Omar knew that by now. And he'd been around the few times when you did. He knew how hurt you were. "You deserve someone better than a basterd, Y/n. That name says it all." You were silent, looking back at the empty street. You began to wonder why it was bad this time... And you realized, it was the first time you were ever in love.... Or at least something like that. Omar sighed as he sat by you, trying to pick the best words. He wasn't the best at mending broken hearts...that was usually your job. "Look kiddo, maybe...maybe this is better. That guy's a terrible dancer anyway." You forced a smile, and it hurt Omar to see you like that. "Come on, Y/n. There's millions of guys out there smarter than him, smart enough to realize what he's missing out on. You've gotten over other guys before. He ain't so special."

Omar observed as a tear streamed down your cheek. "You know what's different this time, Omar? When I'm not with him, my heart hurts."

He took the empty glass from you, and set it on the ground. Normally, he would have offered to by a broken hearted soldier like you another drink, but seeing as you'd have to go inside and see Donny and the singer together, he decided to sit with you.

Omar loved you in a way only a best friend could. He wanted to tell you that, and tell you all the things you'd told him whenever he was down, but he just couldn't string the words together. He wasn't the greatest at that sort of thing. The shapeless words caught in his throat, as he tried to piece you back together, but you shook your head, knowing he meant well. "Go back inside, Omar. I'll be ok." You smiled softly, silently promising you really would be ok. You had been before, with other heart breaks... "You sure?" You nodded, "Yeah..." He sighed and got up, hoping the words would come to him, but they didn't. You knew that. You knew he was trying his best. You smiled softly, in a moment of appreciation, but that wasn't enough to make you forget it all. Omar was right... Donny was a basterd... But in your head, there was a chance he could be your basterd. There were so many things...so many signs... The way he laughed with you, the way he smiled at you, the way he held you... The way he held you when you took that bullet. He got a little sentimental after that, though you promised to keep his secret. He was the big bad Bear Jew, after all... And you were his best friend, so it seemed. Nothing more... You kept that secret, and a million more. Every smile, every chuckle, every story, every glance, you kept a secret. Every night you two stayed up past everyone else, talking about the past you wished you had, and the futures you hoped for... A memory locked away in your heart.

You unlocked it for him...and maybe that was a mistake. Maybe it was a mistake that you were chosen for the basterds. Maybe it was a wrong to love someone in your team. Maybe it was stupid to fall in love at war. Maybe, just maybe, you were stupid for falling for Donny. And even more stupid to think he'd fallen for you...

Tears streamed down your face, as you lit a cigarette. The only warmth you had in your life at that moment, in the middle of war and heartbreak, was at end of that cigarette.

#Inglourious Basterds #inglourious basterds imagine #Donny Donowitz #donny-donowitz #donny donowitz x reader #donny donowitz imagine #Omar Ulmer #heartbreak

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lesbianmothership · 5 years ago

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Come Back To Me (PART 1)

I originally wanted to post the whole thing in one part but its become a lot longer and in depth than I originally planned so this is part one of probably a couple different parts to come. I like writing angst so let me know whatchya think!

Natasha Romanoff x reader fanfiction

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of torture and violence.

Word Count: 2092

_________________________

“Come back to me” your girlfriend of three years says as she rests her forehead against your own. Hands cupped around your neck, just under your jaw.

“Relax Tash,” you smile pecking her lips. “It’s a simple extraction mission. In and out no problem. I do this all the time, you should know.” You wink, earning a tug on your ear.

The redhead beauty rolls her eyes, “You and Clint are never going to let go of that. It was one time!” Natasha Romanoff, the deadliest assassin in the world turned S.H.E.I.L.D. agent hiding her face in the crook of her girlfriend’s neck. Not many get to see this vulnerable side of her. To those outside of the Avengers and yourself she is closed off, cold hearted and will take down her enemy by any means. “You know I worry Y/N. All extractions are dangerous. Why else would the asset need to get out of there? You’re everything to me and if I lose you… don’t think I won’t beat your ass.”

“And you’re everything to me but I got this. You have nothing to worry about, I’m the best of the best.” You give her a cocky grin knowing nothing you say will actually relieve her of her worry but at least you could get her to smile before you depart.

A quick knock on the door of the room you’re in lets you know that the Quinjet and your team are ready to go.

“That’s my cue,” but before you can pull away Natasha grabs you by the collar and tugs you in for a deep kiss.

“You do anything stupid that gets you hurt and I’m holding out for a month,” she warns after she pulls away.

“Well that hardly seems fair,” you complain throwing your arms down to your side like a child. “I’d like to negotiate those terms.”

Another knock on the door. “Doesn’t seem like we have the time моя любовь” Natasha smirks as she watches her beautiful, bad ass girl walk out.

__________________________

What was supposed to be a simple extraction mission had gone to shit very fast. The intel you had been given was false. The asset you were to extract from the Hydra base was already dead and the whole thing was a trap. They knew you were coming the entire time.

The moment you stepped into the base bullets were flying. You and your team tried your best to get a handle on the situation but it was obvious from the start that you were outgunned. At this point there was no getting out of it either, you were surrounded and everyone was coming up on their last rounds of ammunition.

“Ramirez is down, gunshot wound to shoulder and chest, Leroy and Shaw are dead ma’am... We need a plan,” your second in command, Smitty, informed you.

“Fuck!” you ran a hand through your hair trying to regain your composure. The weight of the situation hit you hard. Your team, your responsibility which meant as team leader their deaths were on you. It was a part of the job; losing people and you all knew what you had signed up for but it was never easy when it actually happened. You thought about your options but you really only had one viable option where you came out alive, however, it was the very last thing you wanted to do.

“Weapons down!” you ordered.

“Wait what? Y/L/N are you serious?” Jakobs ducked down behind the barrier your team was huddled behind after letting out another round of bullets.

“Are you sure about this?” Smitty asked.

“No… but what other options do we have? We either die here or surrender and hope S.H.E.I.L.D. will send another rescue party.” God you hoped you weren’t making the wrong decision here.

“How the fuck are we going to get them to stop firing at us though?” Jillian asked as she tried to stop Ramirez from bleeding out.

“I got an idea, a really bad one but I think it could work… hand me some of that gauze,” Jill threw some in your direction and quickly you tied off the white fabric to the barrel of your assault rifle before lifting it and waving it around above your head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jakobs pinched the bridge of his nose “We are never hear the end of this when we get back to headquarters.”

“Headquarters is the reason were in this mess in the first place. Someone fucked up real bad and whoever it is I swear I’m going to have their head,” Smitty growled.

“Less talk about how this happened and let’s focus on how were going to get out of this. Trust me I want the head of whoever is responsible for this as much as you guys but at the moment we need to make sure we keep our own heads alright?” You flinch as a bullet hits the base of your rifle. “Hey nimrods! Don’t you know that a white flag means we surrender!” You yell out.

The Hydra agents seemed to have finally figured out that you’ve given up as their firing ceased and you heard their approaching footsteps. Moments later you and your team were completely surrounded at gunpoint.

“Ah shit.. Natasha is going to kill me-“ you groaned right before everything went black as you were hit over the head with the butt of a rifle.

__________________________

“Maria… what do you mean you haven’t heard from them yet? Shouldn’t they have the asset secured by now and be back up in the air?” It had been 18 hours since you left for your extraction mission and you were due to radio back hours ago. Natasha was pacing back and forth in communications room with Maria and your team’s handlers.

“Any number of things could be the reason they haven’t made contact yet. They were on radio silence to begin with to hold cover, and they could still be trying to stay under the radar if they’re not in safe airspace yet. We don’t know the situation yet Nat but we don’t see reason to worry yet. Y/N’s team is the best extraction team we have and I have full confidence in their safe return.” Maria tried to reassure the ex-assassin.

“Something doesn’t feel right about this Maria… I know Y/N, she would have radioed back by now already even if they weren’t in safe air space yet. Fuck its been hours.” Natasha was pinching the bridge of her nose. It was protocol to remain in radio silence until the mission was secure but Y/N wasn’t exactly one to always follow protocol. Hell, last mission you were on you connected your team’s comms to your iPod so you could listen to Tequila by The Champs.

“Alright we’ll send another team in-“

“I’m going with.” Natasha snapped, leaving the room to go get ready before anyone could argue with her.

“Alrighty then,” Maria clasped her hands together before turning back to the handlers. “Keep trying to establish communications from here. We need to figure out what the hell happened.”

__________________________

“Ah fuckin-hell” you groaned. Your head was pounding and as you opened your eyes everything was still dark. They had you blindfolded with your arms cuffed above your head and your feet to the floor. You could feel crusty dried up blood matted into your hair and down the side of your face.

“This ain’t good” you grunted under your breath as you tried to sit up.

“No shit sherlock,” Jakobs to your right responded.

“Are Smitty and Jill with us too?” you asked while trying to stretch out your sore muscles.

“I don’t know. I only woke up a few minutes ago and I can’t see anything. They could still be unconscious or being held in another area.” Jakobs reported with a sigh.

This is bad… really really bad. You thought to yourself. You had no idea where you were and odds are you were transported to different base than the one where you had gotten into this mess. You could tell you weren’t in your gear any more either which meant the tracking devices in them were of no use. If anything, Hydra would send S.H.E.I.L.D. on a wild goose chase once they figured out the mission failed. Hopefully they’ve sent out another team already, although you have no idea how the hell they’re going to find you.

While testing out the strength of the chains around your wrists and feet the door to the room you were in scraped open. The sounds of boots walking towards you made your hair stand on end.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light in the room when your blindfold was removed. You were in a small concrete room; no windows just the single thick metal door and camera in the corner, it was only you and Jakob which confused you. Why keep you together yet separate.

“I can see your thoughts on your face,” the man who seemed in charge spoke. He was an ugly feller. Bald, with a long scar that ran from his right temple down to his jaw and wore typical Hydra getup.

“Your friends are more morning people than yourselves. Woke up quite a bit of time ago. You should know they are dead now though. It was clear they didn’t have the information I wanted so they were disposed of,” the bald fucker chuckled to himself.

Seething through your teeth you made a pathetic attempt to lung at the man. To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seeing red. Basically your whole team was wiped out in what was supposed to be a simple mission. You were furious with yourself. With S.H.I.E.L.D. And you wanted to murder the man who had the audacity to stand before you right now a laugh at you struggling in your chains.

“You really should be more appreciative than that agent L/N” You froze when he said your name. “Although they did experience quite a lot of pain beforehand, I made sure their deaths were painless,” He smirked tapping his index finger between his eyebrows. “I truly felt bad for them really. To be tortured like that only for me to figure out they really didn’t have the information I wanted! Security clearance is a funny thing isn’t it?”

Clenching your jaw, you remained silent.

“You see agent L/N, when I figured out I had a mole in one of my bases relaying information back to S.H.E.I.L.D. I was livid! But then I thought hmm maybe I can use this to my advantage because where there is one mole there is a whole system of them,” he crouched down in front of you tucking a stray hair behind your ear much to your dismay. “So, I had him signal to be extracted, then I shot him and now here you are and what you’re going to do for me now is give me the list of all assets and agents you have hidden in Hydra.” He smiled laying it out like it was the simplest of requests.

“Over my dead body,” you spat.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that. No worries you’ll break eventually.”

__________________________

Natasha knew it was bad news when they landed a mile outside the base at the same location where they were able to track down Y/N’s team’s Quinjet. Completely abandoned, not a trace of anyone.

During the short trek to the Hydra base Natasha was getting more and more anxious. She couldn’t shake the horrible feeling in her gut. The closer they got the heavier the feeling weighed down on her. When they got to the entrance Natasha instructed the team that she would follow in behind her. They had no idea what they were walking into.

However, the last thing she expected was a completely empty base. They cleared room by room, went down each hallway and found not a single trace that anyone had ever been there. It wasn’t until they rounded a corner into another hallway that Natasha’s stomach plummeted. Three bodies laid across the floor. Approaching Natasha let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding when she recognized Y/N’s teammates: Ramirez, Leroy and Shaw.

Had she been alone she was sure her legs would have given out but she remained poise in front of the team of agents around her.

“What the fuck happened to you Y/N” Nat whispered under her breath.

#Natasha Romanoff x reader #Black Widow x reader #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #Natasha Romanoff fanfiction #Lesbian fanfiction #wlw #lesbian #CBTM

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aaknopf · 5 years ago

Photo

The poet Quan Barry is also a fiction writer, whose mischievous We Ride Upon Sticks has just been published. In the fall of 1989, the seniors on the losing Danvers Falcons field hockey team avail themselves of some locally-sourced Salem witchery, in the hope of concocting a winning season. They make a pact, signing their names in a spiral notebook with Emilio Estevez on the cover, and rip and tie strips of Falcons-blue tube sock around all their arms, sealing their dark bond. In the scene below (which includes a special guest appearance by the poet Philip Larkin), the team mingles with members of the football team at their favorite pizza joint. We meet one of the more mysterious players, Girl Cory, so-called because there’s also a Boy Cory on the squad; Boy Cory’s story, like that of Girl Cory, their teammates Jen Fiorenza (whose awesome, high-teased bangs are known to all as “the Claw”), Abby Putnam (ancestor of an original Salem accuser), and others in the mix here, is a journey of identity, community, and the magic of high school friendships.

from We Ride Upon Sticks

“Our butts are going to States this year,” said Jen. “Where are your butts going?” Just then Girl Cory walked in. For a moment the air in Rocco’s filled with the scent of aquamarine waters and palm trees, the harmonies of steel drums, then just as quickly it was back to cheese pizza and the crackling of the deep fryer. “ ’Sup?” Log called out. Most guys at Danvers High didn’t talk to Girl Cory. From what we could glean of teen-boy-dom it seemed most teen boys only have a finite amount of confidence, and they couldn’t afford to go blowing it willy-nilly on a hopeless case like Girl Cory. It was plain to see she was out of everyone’s league. Most people accepted this. It was pure science, like the apple falling from the tree. Girls like Girl Cory didn’t date regular human boys. Historically, since the invention of written records in the girls’ third-floor bathroom concerning who was banging whom, Girl Cory had never dated anyone at Danvers High. Mostly she left in her wake a trail of names from the local private-school universe, places like the Prep, Pingree, even some faraway boy at Deerfield. Log’s “ ’Sup?” was still hanging in the air. Only he among his brethren had confidence to burn. Little did he know but “ ’Sup?” was an excellent question, one we’d been secretly wondering all our lives. Yeah, Girl Cory, what’s up? As she stood at the counter, Girl Cory nodded at Log but didn’t say a word or even take off her Ray-Bans. “And what does your soon-to-be captain have to say about you hosers going to States?” whispered Brian Robinson in a small voice, only looking at Girl Cory indirectly via a shiny plaque mounted on the wall, as if she were a Medusa with the power to transform flesh to stone. “Which is it?” he said. “You guys going to States, or 2-8 again?” “For your information, we haven’t voted for captain yet,” said Jen. Her Claw gave him the stink eye. Rocco’s adult son Vinny slammed her order down on the counter. Ceremoniously, she rose to retrieve her Diet Coke and two slices of Hawaiian. She noticed Log Winters was still staring at Girl Cory. “Take a picture, my friend,” she said, bending over and whispering in Log’s ear. “It’ll last longer.” Then she raised her voice so that all of Rocco’s could partake in the annunciation. “Besides, Cory already has a boyfriend.” “Who’s that?” said Log. “Nobody you’d know,” Jen projected. “He sent her flowers today. Isn’t that right, Cory?” Girl Cory turned and flashed Jen a look that simultaneously said both shut up and keep talking. She was an enigma like that. Honestly, none of us really knew her. Even now that we were all part of the sisterhood of the blue sweat sock, it was like she had constructed a wall to keep us out, a sunroom off the kitchen where she could sit and drink her Earl Grey in peace while the rest of us crowded around a plate of stale bagels in the breakfast nook. Girl Cory pulled a wad of napkins from the dispenser and went over to where Little Smitty was sitting with Mel. What’s up, Girl Cory? All season long, the rest of us standing around wondering, Girl Cory. What. Is. Up? And then one day we’d take a big juicy bite of the apple from the Tree of Knowledge, and to our everlasting sorrow, we’d find out. “Philip” made his first appearance during the ’88 season shortly after Girl Cory passed her driver’s test. It was late October, one of those autumn days when the afternoon sky prematurely takes on a hazy shade of winter. We were just off the school bus after returning from a massacre in Gloucester, 4-0. Truthfully, the score didn’t accurately reflect the gutting we’d endured at the hands of the Gloucester Fishermen. The two senior co-captains, Gina Packer and Mary Ellen Sommers, had gotten into a fight during the coin toss over whether to pick heads or tails. At one point, Gina reached over and ran her finger through the blue face paint where Mary Ellen had spackled the letters DHS on her cheek. We winced. It was like watching someone ruin a beautifully frosted cake. When we finally arrived back at Danvers High, Julie Kaling stopped reciting that part of the Nicene Creed about God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, her crucifix glinting in the dark of the bus. To be honest, after the kind of outing it had been, some of us found her religious yammering weirdly comforting. We’d grabbed our stuff from the locker room and headed out to wait for our moms to come get us or to bum rides with the seniors who lived in our neighborhoods. Girl Cory had hit the two-fecta, having recently passed her driver’s test and been given her own wheels to boot. Her brand-new white Fiero was parked in the student lot. The Fiero had been purchased weeks before her driving test and was just sitting around in her multi-car garage collecting dust. Driving was still a novelty to her, the monogrammed fingerless gloves still fun to slip on. That day she was giving Abby Putnam a ride home. It was Abby who pointed out the mint-green envelope stuck under the windshield wipers. Girl Cory peeled the envelope off the wet glass and held it between her fingers like a dead roach. “This is a wicked bummer,” she said. “Can you get ticketed here?” Abby shook her head. She watched as her friend tore open the soggy envelope. Girl Cory’s face betrayed nothing. If anything, she looked a little more bloodless. “Lemme see,” said Abby. She took the slip of paper in her hands and stared for a long time at the blurred writing, the washed-out words as if painted in watercolor. Roses are Red— Your Fiero—it’s White— With seating for two. Don’t! Put up a fight—take me with you! The next day before practice we showed the letter around. Heather Houston performed a close reading on it worthy of a 5 on the AP English test. She commented on the juvenile use of the Dickinsonian em dash, the strange imperatives, the elisions, the contradictory tone of both fight and flight. “Whoever wrote this is not playing with a full deck,” she concluded, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “It doesn’t even make sense. Like this part. ‘Don’t!’ Don’t what? Use your words, people!” She was practically spitting she was so worked up about it. Poor Heather Houston took weak syntactical choices as a personal affront. Julie Kaling patted her comfortingly on the back. “I dunno, I think it’s sweet,” said Little Smitty softly. This was back in the days before Emilio and the blue tube sock, back when Little Smitty ate all the spinach on her plate happily with a big smile as though it were cotton candy. “What I will say,” said Heather, offering a second conclusion about the note, “is Philip Larkin he is not.” Becca Bjelica looked at AJ Johnson and silently mouthed, Philip who? We were all thinking the same thing. Nobody rolled their eyes at her. How were we supposed to know some curmudgeonly British poet, even one who’d written: They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. And thus “Philip” was born. That first year “Philip” mostly left little things lying around in plain sight, like a cat who brings its owner dead robins. A tube of Chanel lipstick without the actual lipstick in it. A box of chocolates, but instead of sweets slotted in each compartment, there were rocks. Girl Cory took it all in stride. We didn’t tell anyone in the adult world because what was there to say? Some poor slob had the hots for a girl so beautiful she should have been in a music video, and he left her crazy presents? Back then the word “stalker” wasn’t really part of anyone’s vocabulary. Fatal Attraction had come out the year before, but that was just stuff that happened to sexy creeps like Michael Douglas, who banged complete strangers and mostly had it coming. And so Girl Cory learned to live with it. And so we learned to live vicariously through her. In time, we began to look forward to “Philip’s” offerings. They made us feel like maybe somewhere down the road, somebody, anybody, might possibly want us. Even the time he dropped a note in her schoolbag that said, “I hate you, you stupid peckerhead,” and signed it “Much l♥ve.” We were a bunch of mostly inexperienced teen girls. We thought that’s what true romance was supposed to look like. A boy telling a girl she was a stupid peckerhead, but she was his stupid peckerhead. Lord, make us worthy, we prayed. God from God, Light from Light, Boyfriend from Boy Who Considers Us a Peckerhead. It seemed like the thing to ask for. None of us ever thought to pray for a better caliber of boy.

More on this book and author:

Learn more about We Ride Upon Sticks by Quan Barry

Browse other books by Quan Barry including her four poetry collections published in the Pitt Poetry Series

Read the full text of Philip Larkin's "This Be the Verse" at the Poetry Foundation

Peruse other poems, audio recordings, and broadsides in the Knopf poem-a-day series

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link.

#quan barry #we ride upon sticks #knopf poetry #poetry #poem-a-day #poetry month

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ladyamber · 6 years ago

Text

Sirenade: Chapter Six

Greetings everyone and welcome to Sirenade. Thank you so much for the support so far and I’m so excited to write these next coming chapters in the coming week. I’m so grateful that I’m almost to 100 followers, and as always Stay Tuned! For next week’s chapter. Now without further adieu I present Chapter 6!

Start: Prologue

Previous: Chapter 5

Next: Chapter 7

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 6

A week had passed since Ryan decided against erasing Luke’s memory. Of course, not everyone was thrilled about the idea of a human who they barely knew knowing about the existence of sirens. At first Smitty nor Marcel has warmed up to the idea, least of all Marcel, but after seeing how happy Ohm was. Marcel learned to tolerate it, and Smitty was still taking some time to adjust to the newcomer. Evan had confirmed from Jonathan that Luke was a good person despite his southern rugged appearance, though Evan himself was a bit skeptical of Cartoonz. Despite all that Brock was the only one who had no problem with the older male, in fact, he became fast friends with Luke.

“You really like him don’t you?” Brock’s tease caused Ryan to light up with a shade of pink. Brock didn’t usually poke fun at his friends, but considering that a blind person could tell that Ryan had grown attached to Luke he couldn’t possibly resist.

“Maybe?” Ryan’s giggles had placed a smile on Brock’s face, it had been years since he had seen Ohm so lively. Like all the others no one talked much about their previous lives or why they came to Evernor to seek refuge. Brock knew that each member of his pod had been through a rough life. So he couldn’t feel anything but happiness when he saw them at peace.

“Are you planning on attending the Iris Festival this year? Luke asked if I’d go with him.” Brock winced at Ohm’s question. The Iris Festival brought back too many familiar memories of his past, something he desperately wished to forget, usually on this night he’d stay hidden in the underwater cavern attempting to block out the music and flood of flashbacks. None of the others would ask why he hated being around the festival’s joyous atmosphere, but he knew they were dying to get him to join them. As much as he wanted to, it seemed like too much for him. “Moo?”

Brock snapped out of his thoughts receiving a worried glance from Ryan. He ran his fingers through his loose locks while taking a deep breath to drown out his thoughts. “I’m fine. No, I don’t think I’ll be going this year either.”

“Brock you-” Before Ryan could complain about his decision a certain little bell rang as a certain Irishmen opened his workshop door and waved for Brock to come over. Brock glanced to Ryan before he reluctantly let him go. “We’re not finished I will convince you to go this year.”

“Don’t count on it.” His answer was dismissed as Ryan walked towards the shoreside (probably to see Luke) Brock quickly made his way towards the door of the workshop allowing the familiar bell to chime as he strolled in. He patiently waited for Brian as he assisted three large gentlemen at the register.

“No way, you three from Ireland too?”

“Dublin itself.” Brock felt the hair on his arm stand up. He didn’t know why, but the atmosphere surrounding the three men felt...dangerous. Maybe because they were newcomers, either way he wanted to make himself as invisible as possible. He quietly looked at some of the stores' products as he waited for Brian to wrap things up.

“So what brings ye to our little town?”

“The usual. The sites, the festival, the legends.” Brock felt a shiver run down his spine as the smallest out of the three men casually talked with Brian. Even though he was turned around, he knew someone was looking right at him. Burning holes into him as if they were waiting for him to turn around and look directly at them. He resisted the urge as the discussion continued.

“Ah. Well sorry to disappoint buddy, but there hasn’t been a site of one in a long time.”

“You never know. Anyways t’anks for de stuff.”

As the three men walked out of the store Brock felt air reach his lungs and sighing in relief. He’d never such fear from a group of humans before, he’d make sure to avoid those three as much as possible. “Brocky.”

“Yeah?” Brock watched as Brian jumped over his cash register as Brian followed to where his voice came from.

“You good? You seem a bit pale.” Brock smiled to try and disguise his worry.

“I’m good. Umm was there something you wanted to talk about or what?”

“Yeah, I...I wanted to know if you’d go with me to de festival tomorrow?”

Brock froze at Brian’s proposal the very thing he wished to avoid talking about was now being presented to him in a way that if he felt he couldn’t refuse. He’d be swimming in guilt all evening tomorrow if he turned down Brian, but he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready to relive the memories even if it was with Brian. He couldn’t have Brian look at him like he was a monster he would never forgive himself if he did.

“I can’t, not again?”

“What? What can’t you do again?”

“I-I can’t. I’m sorry....” Brock couldn’t stop himself from running out of the shop leaving behind a heartbroken Brian as he ran until his legs burned urging him to stop, but he keep going letting them lead him into the sea.

~*~

“Scotty!” Before Scott could put down his suitcase a figure lunged at him causing him to lose his balance.

“Fuck that hurt.” Scotty laughed as the small ball of energy complained about his own actions.

“You can blame yourself for that one, bud.” Scott inhaled the sweet smell of candy-filled smoke along with the familiar scent of the town. How he missed home. Sure visiting his hometown of Florida was a blast, even if his visit involved work, but the town of Evernor was a place he now called home. He’d missed his friends, the brewery and most of all his apartment. How he missed his bed too.

“How was your trip?” Smitty asked him he rolled off before he pulled Scott back up. “Was it fun, did you miss us?”

“Calm down Smitty he just got back. Let the guy breath.” But how he missed Marcel. The guy who always knew how to make him laugh and comfort him. Now he was here once again in the town he very much loved. He couldn’t be happier.

“It’s alright. My trip was fine, it did make me think about moving back to Florida.” Scotty laughed as the three faces in front of him shifted from joy to shock. “I’m kidding, there’s no way I’d move back. It’s too hot down there, but it was a lot of fun I got to help some marine life return to the ocean too.”

“That’s awesome, what kind of animals?” Scotty could practically see the excitement radiating off of Smitty.

“Some dolphins, a baby orca and I got to help with surgery on a sea turtle.” Scotty loved his job being a marine biologist, even if there was some irony to his job, he loved it nonetheless.

“Aww, what was wrong with it?”

“Fish hook.” As gross as it is, it was a duty that Scotty would do again and again to help save marine life. He hated getting those assignments because he always felt guilty though it was never really his fault. He was so relieved when the surgery went without complications.

“Yup that’ll do it. Marcel remember when I accidentally swim through the sand and got a fish hook stuck on my-” Marcel’s hand quickly covered Smitty’s mouth. Smitty eyes widened out of surprise before Marcel’s glare fell on directly on Smitty causing the younger male to slightly panic.

“No, wait I wanna hear the rest of the story.”

“Maybe later I kind of wanted to talk to you. Alone.” Scotty questioned why Marcel throw a glare at Smitty and John (who was making quiet kiss noises in the background) but shrugged it off.

“Sure come one you can help with my stuff.” Marcel quickly helped with Scott’s luggage as Smitty and John walked into the town. “Whatcha wanna talk about?”

“I umm...I wanted to umm...I just...I was wondering-” Scotty listened to the stuttering of his usually confident and cold friend (which he found hilarious) as it caused him to turn into a nervous wreck.

“Yes?”

“Will you come with me to the festival tomorrow?” Scott looked back at Marcel to see looking at the ground in shame? Maybe not shame, but it seemed like it.

“Of course we always go to the festival together it’s what friends do.” Scotty gave Marcel a soft smile as he returned one before Scotty unlocked his apartment. Allowing the two into the small living quarters. Scott thought he heard Marcel say something else, but shook it off. He could have sworn he heard him say something like.

“I wish it could be different this year.”

#Sirenade #posts #BBS #Banana Bus Squad #Vanossgaming #CartOoNz #H2ODelirious #Moo Snuckel #Basicallyidowrk #Smii7y #Ohmwrecker #Thegamingterroriser #TerrorMoo #Fourzeroseven #BID407 #Stay Tuned!#mermaid story #bbs au #fusionamber

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ghosstkid · 6 years ago

Note

yo lemme get that director’s cut on the latest chapter of amber!! i love your work!! - 💙

AHHhh!! Thank you so much!! Thank you for the ask! I’ll put it under the cut just in case someone hasn’t read chapter 10 of Amber yet! I’ll probably have chapter 11 of Amber up tonight or tomorrow morning!

Send me a ‘director’s commentary’ or a star!

This chapter gives me a lot of feels, it hurt to write honestly.

Chapter 10 is called Surrender in reference to the card that Fitz has pulled from his oracle deck several times in previous chapters but I never told you guys why or what the meaning of that card is. Like I said or rather like Fitz explains in chapter 10, the surrender card means ‘surrender to what you cannot control’. I have an oracle deck that has a surrender card in it, that’s where I got the meaning. You can interpret that in many ways, either surrender to the ways of fate, or you could see it as a death card like in tarot; sweeping change is coming whether you like it or not and you can’t control it. This card has been haunting Fitz since chapter one.

I’ll get back to Fitz later. I wanna talk about how this is the first chapter where both of Amber’s povs finally meet each other. Amber’s plot is so big it needs two povs who are from two separate spheres of Amber’s society in order to tell it! Bee is able to discover pieces of the puzzle that Mason would never be able to and vice versa.

You also would have no idea about the magic in this world if you took away Bee’s perspective. Mason’s world is grey and industrial, his story is more of a thriller and drama. Bee’s world is glittering and elegant, her story is more of a fantasy. Now they are brought together.

What I think is so fascinating and is a bit of a challenge for me and you the reader, is that both povs know things that the other doesn’t. Bee knows about magic, Mason doesn’t really. Mason knows just how cruel Ryan can be, Bee doesn’t. But you the reader know! This, of course, leads to really interesting character dynamics between them. Mason doesn’t trust Bee but Bee is very trusting.

In a way, both characters would thrive as well, if they swapped places. Bee is rebellious, she’s fearless and she wants freedom. She doesn’t like being told what to do. If she were a wild kid like Mason, she’d be unstoppable. Mason is also rebellious, driven and fearless. He also wants to be worth something. He wants power and to be respected. All his life he’s been talked down to and told he’s just a kid. Now that the only person who didn’t talk to him like that is on the verge of death, Mason is tossed adrift. Even though he loves Matt with his all his heart, he sometimes can’t stand the way he talks to him. If he were in Bee’s place, with money and power, he’d be unstoppable. My theme song for Amber is Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush. The encore is;

And if I only couldI’d make a deal with GodAnd I’d get him to swap our placesBe running up that roadBe running up that hillBe running up that building See if I only could….

Kinda sums up the above paragraph.

Another factor I think is important with these two povs is the age difference. Bee is 18 and she was forced to become an adult, a Lady, very quickly. She has a lot of responsibility and while she enjoys the power she has, she also wants the childhood and the lovely world she lost. Mason is 15 years old. He is a b a b y. He is wild and at times uncontrollable. He’s full of fire. However, just because he is young doesn’t mean his actions are excusable. I’m really curious to see your reactions to Mason in the future and the choices he makes.

Above all though, it’s important I think to remember that the main characters in Amber are teenagers. They deal with some really heavy stuff that forces them to mature very quickly but they are all still kids deep down.

Chapter ten is when things get a bit intense with secrets that both povs have. Once at the hotel, Bee goes to talk privately with Fitz. He wants to know what she wants and when he realizes that she just wants to help, he finds himself opening up to this stranger. Chapter ten was really hard to write because Fitz tells you that he will not make it to the end of this story. His sickness will kill him, it’s only a matter of time and there is nothing he can to do to stop it. He must surrender to it.

Fitz trusts Bee with this secret because he knows she just wants to help, so he knows she can make sure that his final wish will happen. Second, she’s an outsider. She’s not a part of the family that Fitz has brought together. Fitz has known since he started coughing that this is the end. He’s known since chapter one. He probably should have told the misfits but now it’s way too late to even think about doing that. Mason is so determined to save Fitz and so are the rest of the misfits. So just think, every time Mason and the others said they will save Fitz, he just has to sit there and smile. Fitz in Amber is probably thee most tragic character I’ve ever written.

And now Bee knows this secret and she has to listen to the misfits say over and over that they will save Fitz now too. In a way, it’s easier now for Fitz that someone else finally knows but now they have to share this weight and Bee will have to carry it for the rest of her life. It’ll also make reading Mason’s chapters now hurt that much more because his number one goal is to save Fitz.

After that angst, I have two scenes that are my favourite in this chapter because of how beautiful and sweet they are! The first is when Bee gives Toby her hair ribbon and capelet. It’s very a soft moment and it makes me smile. The second one is when Bee uses her magic to make Fitz’s oracle cards float in the air. It’s so beautiful and Fitz is amazed. He still has time to see the beautiful things in life and he gets to see magic. Now too, his magic is waking up!! Don’t worry, you will get to see what kind of magic he has soon ;)

At the end of the chapter, you finally get to meet the anarchists! This kicks off the second half of Amber which is absolutely wild. I am so excited to write it. You will meet more interesting characters like Smitty and John soon too! Maybe this world’s version of Karl Marx? You’ll never guess who that is lol As well as two of my favourite comedic relief characters ever.

Smitty and John are super cool characters. Smitty is cockier in this story than he has in past stories I’ve done and John is very suave and confident. They are tough characters and like Mason, they don’t back down from a fight. You’ll see in Chapter 11 what Mason thinks of that.

Also, another note about costumes cause I love them. The anarchist uniform in Amber is inspired by these photos of Maude Adams, an actress from the early 1900s. These photos are from when she starred in a play called L’Aiglon in 1900 in which she played Napoleon. She also went on to play Peter Pan as well!

I have planned a really cool scene in the future *spoiler* involving the misfits, including Fitz and there will be some really cool colour symbolism and I’m so excited to write it.

Chapter 11 will dive even further into the anarchists, who they are and how the misfits will react to them. A lot of the conflicts in both povs lead up to this moment where they have to make this huge decision. Do the misfits join the anarchists and put their own lives on the line to fight back and save Fitz? Does Bee turn her back on Ryan, putting herself at the risk of losing everything, to join them?

It’s gonna be fun!

Thank you for the ask! I love talking about my stories like this!!

#ask #this is so long omg #thank you for the ask!

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 6 years ago

Text

6. This means war a. k. a. a butcher knife, an interrogation and a battlefield (Part Two)

“Okay, guys don’t forget the rules!” Eric turns back to us entering the bar. “No nudity!” he takes a meaningful look at Mike who glances around whistling and pretends not to understand what Eric refers to.

“What?” Judy whispers with a terrified expression.

“Haha, I’ll explain it later.” I lean to her ears and the smell of her hair makes me feel dizzy immediately.

“And Stone, please don’t talk to strangers otherwise we all die here…”

“Seriously, why? I think I’m cool. Mankind isn’t intellectually developed enough to understand my humor…”

“Oh yeah, maybe after the extinction of human species you’ll be able to make a career as a stand-up comedian…” Judy remarks cracking me and the other members of the company around her up.

“What? What’s so funny?” Stone inquires impatiently. He’s obviously not used to the role of the target; usually it is him who makes fun of the others.

“Nothing. I was just worrying about the future of mankind.” Judy deadpans causing more cackle around her and a perceptible blush on Stone’s cheeks.

I head straight for the pool tables with Stone and Dave while Mike and our roads choose to explore the pinball machines. Eddie, Beth and Karrie decide to order our drinks at the counter and the only one left at the door is Judy. She’s turning her head helplessly hesitating who to join.

“Hey Judy, do you want to play?” I call her pointing at her with the pool cue.

“I… I can’t play, I’ve only tried two or three times in my life and I always sucked…” she explains making a few insecure steps in our direction.

“Then we shouldn’t force her. So let’s play!” Stone grabs the other cue with a quick move and turns his back on her.

“But if she played we could form two teams and play against each other. Judy, it is high time you practiced!” Dave argues.

“I like the idea. Judy, you’re with me, I’ll explain the rules to you and help with the moves.” I volunteer to have an excuse for staying next to her as long as possible.

“The main goal of the game is to hit the white ball into any of the holes…” Stone grins in front of himself while chalking the tip of his cue stick. I should have known that… he won’t leave her alone until he manages to rile her up.

“Oh, yeah, thanks for considering me a stupid caveman but I have some faint ideas about the rules...“ she rolls her eyes and folds her arms. I’ve already observed this defensive reaction of hers; feeling danger she immediately pulls back into her shell. I have to work against that because it doesn’t fit my plan.

“Birds of a feather flock together…” Stone mutters. What a douche… Judy can’t know that calling me a caveman is Stone’s favorite habit to emphasize his assumed intellectual superiority to me. Or to anyone else.

“Okay, Judy, the first turn is yours…” I rather focus on my project handing her the stick. And I have to admit she was right about her abilities… She hits the white ball only for the third attempt and due to her effortless strike it misses every other one in its surrounding.

“That’ll be a looong game… If I had known that I would have brought dry food and fluids enough for three days. And a sleeping bag.” Stone comments Judy’s performance, which probably doesn’t help her collecting some confidence for the next round but I see a strange fire in her look, this time she doesn’t seem to be bothered by Stone’s usual show.

“Stone, if you shut up at least for a few seconds you could notice that I’m ensuring our winning position…“ Dave warns him and targets the plain blue ball.

“I support you spiritually, can you feel my mental power radiating on you?” Stone smirks.

“Yes, unfortunately I can…” Dave rights himself after his first fault.

“I knew you would be good together.” I take the cue from Judy and lean on the table. Fuck, my hands are sweating; I chose the wrong game… “Ah, shit.” My hand slips so Stone gets a chance to support their team in a physical way too. He plays well, I must admit, he’s maybe the best player of us. It’s forgivable since in exchange for that he’s the clumsiest at any other sports.

“Look, Judith, this is how big boys do it…” Stone winks at her between two hits. I don’t like that wink. I want to be the only one who’s entitled to wink at her. Judy watches him playing with a disappointed grimace and I use the occasion to throw one arm around her shoulder and stroke her upper arm to comfort her. To my biggest surprise in the next moment Stone doesn’t manage to strike the ball, which I don’t really understand as he wasn’t disturbed by anyone or anything… But who cares, at least we have one more chance to win. Judy prepares for her round awkwardly measuring the angles and distances and I can’t help taking advantage of the situation.

“Okay, Judy, I think you should focus on that one, over there…” I lean close to her and carefully direct her arm in the right direction. Can I feel goosebumps on her skin? Yes, hell, she…

Stone interrupts my silent joy with a loud yawn checking theatrically his wristwatch. Judy reacts with a start moving away from the direction in which I positioned her and hits the white ball in the corner hole opposite us. I slap myself mentally for forgetting about her extremely wide personal space… In the meantime Dave finishes the game with a few perfect hits; he digs into his pocket for his cigarette and high-fives with Stone using his other hand.

“May I?” Stone points at the package. To Dave’s nodding he helps himself and sticks the cigarette into his mouth.

“Does he smoke?” Judy asks half-whispering leaning closer to my ears with a disgusted and almost disappointed frown. I can’t figure out why she’s so surprised at Stone’s smoking habits but I don’t really care since I don’t smoke, maybe that can be a pro if smoking is a turnoff for her…

“Not really… only occasionally… you know… when he’s nervous or stressed out or when he has problems… or when he just wants to play the cool guy.”

“I don’t understand.” Judy furrows her eyebrows.

“You know, he’s a social and stress smoker, he just shows off with it.” I explain but I doubt this whole topic deserves so much explanation.

“That’s what I don’t understand. You said he smoked occasionally… but based on everything you’ve just listed he should be a chainsmoker, huh?” she grins at me and in the next second we both giggle and I really enjoy the fact that neither Dave and Stone nor the others arriving back from the counter know why we’re choking. She has been so much more outgoing and talkative today, she talked at the party more than in the last three days in all and I can only hope it has something to do with me too. And I really like that change in her behavior and maybe that’s a sign… I mean… I have nothing to lose… yes, I’m going to make the first step. Hell, I’m going to do that.

***

“So that’s all what you have to know about Mike’s nudist tendencies.” Jeff finishes the story about Mike’s disastrous striptease in Rotterdam and at a few afterparties.

“Uh, it’s a lucky coincidence that I’ve just finished my beer. My brain cells responsible for visual imagination are screaming for mercy, I don’t know how they would react without some alcohol.” I rub my forehead. I can already feel the mild dizziness which usually strikes after having had my second beer, I should slow down before I start talking bullshit… I must be grinning like an idiot… I don’t want to end up in sleeping on his shoulder; he would probably misunderstand my habit of using anyone next to me as a pillow at the peak of my tipsiness. It’s quite awkward but at least falling asleep prevents me from getting totally wasted which has never happened to me, anyway… Although I wish it had happened, maybe it would have helped in certain situations.

We’re sitting in a box with Karrie, Dave is playing a next pool game with Mike against Brett and Scully while Smitty and Eric are analyzing their performance impersonating television commenters. I don’t know where Eddie, Beth and our fuckin’ joker are hiding but at least I have some rest, I’ve heard enough of his asshole remarks this evening. Despite having smoked weed he doesn’t really seem to be high, maybe he snickers more often at his own jokes than usual although it’s something that’s hard to escalate.

“Hey, Judy Camden!” I hear Eddie calling me in his irresistible voice the second time this evening. I turn my head around and glance them finally at a foosball table in the corner. Foosball… I have a soft spot for it, although the last time I played was ages ago. “Judy Camden! We need one more player so would you move your aaaaaah… ahem, Beth there’s no need to kick me to death, so Judy, would you move your… graceful legs?”

Foosball… but spending more time with that cretin than inevitably necessary? Foosball… that insufferable, caustic piece of garbage… Foosball… Foosball… Foosball… Maybe I could show what I can…

“I’m coming!” I chirp and try to moderate myself not to run to them. On arriving I notice that Eddie and Beth are standing next to each other on the same side of the table and the vacant position is the one beside Stone.

“I want to be with Beth.” I decline dipping my hands in my pockets.

“A girls versus boys match? Uh… Are you sure?” Eddie furrows his eyebrows with that typical, curious expression including those heart-shaped lips, shit, could you just stop, Edward?

“I’m just saying: playing against me equals instant and humiliating defeat.” Stone rubs his hands against each other and starts to spin the sticks in front of him back and forth as warm-up.

“Same for me playing with you. Or do you think that being busy with crafting ideas how to cut the throat of your teammate is a safe winning strategy?” I ask still waiting for Ed leaving Beth’s side.

“That makes sense…” Stone admits scratching his chin.

“What’s more, these two have been together for eight…”

“Nine…” they correct me simultaneously.

“…nine years, separating them would only increase our chances.” I throw in my final argument.

“You mean my chances.” Stone corrects me.

“Stone, you shouldn’t be overconfident, you haven’t…”

“Come on, Ed, I’ve seen her playing pool. And foosball tables don’t belong to the usual equipment of convents, I guess…”

I decide not to answer and luckily neither Beth nor Eddie wants to react to his umpteenth, farfetched joke about my assumed relation to the Catholic Church.

“Let’s play finally, girlpower, woohoo!” Beth screams and pushes Eddie away with her hip signaling he should join the opposite team. Judging from her behavior she’s already quite far from soberness and probably she won’t be the most cooperative and useful teammate of all times but if I manage to follow my plan that won’t be a huge problem.

As all of us take our places Beth drops the ball on the table. It lands right at my midfield row so it takes me only one move to shot it right in the goal of the opposite team before Stone and his goalkeeper foosman could realize we’re already playing.

“Eheh… beginners’ luck… I’m a foosball virgin.” I snicker putting accent on the last word and pull the plastic cube towards me, signaling our first score.

“What was that pathetic, fake throw-in? Beth, at least try to pretend not to be cheating…” Stone complains.

It’s Eddie’s turn to throw the ball onto the table. Beth’s foosman passes the ball to mine and I dribble it a few times back and forth between my rows before shooting it into the hole right next to the paralyzed goalkeeper of Stone. Beth and I high-five while Stone is checking his sticks; obviously he can’t believe that everything works fine apart from his reflexes.

“Okay, Ed, get your shit together before it’s too late!” he commands to the perplexed Eddie.

“What the fuck are you talking about? The ball hasn’t even got to my side…”

“That’s exactly the problem, Ed.”

“And whose fault is that, smartass?”

Failure generated internal conflict. Perfect… Due to my turn at throw-in I can only use my left hand, which makes me lose the ball; encouraged by his sudden chance Stone tries to perform some tricks with it but being overly excited he manages to spin his defense row in the wrong direction hitting the ball. Own goal. Instant and humiliating defeat for whom? Beth and I burst out in a loud scream.

“Three-zero. I’ve got my shit together, what about yours?” Ed asks reproachfully but his voice is barely to hear over our cheering. It’s so much easier than I thought.

“What’s the matter? I can only hear that these two women are fuckin’ loud.” Mike cranes his neck behind me to see the result.

“Nothing particular, Judy is just wiping the floor with us.” Eddie tries to answer and defend their goal from Beth’s attack at the same time.

“And what about me?” Beth asks feistily and shots goal in the moment she utters “me”.

“Nice shot, teammate!” I exclaim and reach out my arm to high-five with her again.

“Time-out, I have to fix my hair.” Stone declares forming a “T” letter with his hands.

“Oh, hair crisis? ‘Course, I totally understand it, that’s the worst.” I pretend sympathy and Beth chokes on her beer, probably of mere sympathy as well.

He tears the scrunchie out of his half-ponytail with a nervous move and holds it between his lips while putting his hair up in the same style again. I have to admit he’s quite fortunate as for his hair, thick, dark brown, with hints of natural curls…

“But Stone, now you look exactly the same as before…” Mike remarks innocently but seeing Stone’s cold gaze his voice gets more and more silent and he finishes the sentence basically only mouthing.

“Good look restored?” I ask with an amused smile but somehow Stone doesn’t seem to appreciate my attentiveness.

“Too much talk.” he throws in the ball.

“Are you sure you don’t need more time? I would tolerate it, after all, we shot four goals whereas you…” I try to chat while our foosmen are battling for the ball.

„Come on then.”

„What?”

„Have at you!” Wait, the Black Knight?

„You are indeed brave, Sir knight, but the fight is mine.” I cite the next sentence of the classic scene of Monty Python’s Holy Grail to check if my guess was right.

„Oh, had enough, eh?” Bingo, the Black Knight. Spinal Tap a few days ago, now this… At least the guy has a taste as for comedies.

„Look, you stupid bastard, you've got no arms left.” I go on catching the ball. This time I decide to torture him longer before the next strike; I spin the stick slowly and carefully to lift the ball balancing it on one of my foosmen.

“If you hit the goal I’m going to dress up as Liberace at Halloween, I swear…” Mike mutters.

“You can start searching for accessories, Mike.” I wink at him and spin on the stick a bit to reach the perfect angle; after finding it I drop the ball with a quick move over Stone’s defender foosmen right into the goal.

“That can’t be true.” he lets the sticks go with an effortless moan and reaches for his beer mechanically, not even glancing at the glass.

“This is my best birthday ever!” Mike punches in the air. “Hey, guys, you won’t believe what happened…” I hear him yelling excitedly as he runs back to the pool table.

“Uhm… do you want to continue defeating me instantly, in a humiliating way or can we finish the match at this point?” I flash a dark grin at my perished opponent.

“We can finish… or… whatever…” His look is definitely darker than my grin; he doesn’t even say a word to Eddie before leaving for the boxes.

“He’s pouting, but don’t worry, it won’t last long. Actually, I didn’t know either he could be so… uhm… competitive…” Eddie explains while we’re following Stone.

“But maybe he finallllly ack… acknow…ledges your abbbilllities…” Beth adds hiccupping.

As we reach the box I slip onto the seat taking place opposite Stone who blatantly avoids any form of communication with us. Beth drops herself next to me and grabs immediately the drink menu.

“Look Eddie, they have cock…tails… haha, get it, I invented a new joke… cock tail-cocktail! Oh… If I had known that… I want a cocktail…”

“Babe, you shouldn’t… you’ve drunken enough today…” Ed strokes her hair tucking a few unruly strands with gentles moves behind her ear . Lucky girl…

“Just one cocktail…”she nuzzles to his stomach.

“Beth…”

“Please…”

“Okay then... But only one cocktail, I choose and if you look sick I’m going to drink it.” he sighs glancing at the ceiling.

“I wanna drink something with llllime… lllime isss sooo good…” she clings to Eddie and they start walking slowly towards the counter. What? Eddie… hey Eddie… you can’t leave me here with this unbearable, cocky, assertive bastard… Eddie… please turn back… I don’t want to act desperate and flee from him but I don’t have any clue how I could spend these impossibly long minutes in his company either … long minutes because time seems to slow down, so much time has passed since they left but they haven’t even reached the counter… And I got stuck here… Yes I'm stuck in the middle with you and I'm wondering what it is I should do… Fuckin’ earworm… Great…

***

“Hi guys!” I plop down next to Judy.

“Hi!” Judy sighs.

“Hmmk…” Stone mumbles, I can only guess it’s his brand new welcome ritual since he keeps his look on his beer glass. I steel a glance at Judy to see she’s studying the menu intensely and then I peep back at Stone who still seems to be totally lost in his beer tag.

“Oh, that’s a good one, I myself have read it multiple times too…” I joke trying to ease the tense, pointing and nodding at the glass since the silence starts getting uncomfortable.

“Oh, I can imagine, you have a whole fucking library at home…” Stone remarks bored and I hear a quiet sneeze or snicker from the direction of Judy, I can’t decide which one and if it was a snicker I can’t decide either which of us made her laugh. They both fall silent again and their eyes keep demonstratively avoiding each other.

“Seriously, what’s up, chatterboxes?” I make a second attempt to start a conversation but the spleenish vibe around them makes me feel like a bull in a china shop.

“Actually, we tried to chat, y’know, but we gave it up, we couldn’t help cutting each other off.” Judy shrugs still gazing the menu and as I peer at Stone again I would swear I catch a little twitch on the corner of his mouth, maybe a smile? I’ll never figure it out since it disappears in a blink.

“How come you haven’t mentioned until now what a great foosball player you are?” I keep talking to avert the awkward silence; they’re still not willing to acknowledge each other’s presence.

“It’s Cheap Trick’s fault.” Judy remarks shrugging casually again.

“Cheap Trick? I love them and I’m convinced they’re omnipotent but what do they have to do with your foosball talent?”

“My sister… Effie… she loves them too. But they didn’t really come to our area and Effie was dying to see them live...”

“I can totally relate to her, I spent my teenage years completely Cheap Trickless too…” I nod agreeing.

“When she was fourteen or fifteen she decided to follow them wherever they play and they were playing in Wisconsin, y’know, basically at the other end of the country. One day she stormed into my room in tears, claiming Mom and Dad didn’t allow her the journey even with me. Because I have to mention she dragged my name into the discussion without asking me, as always…”

“Poor girl…” I shake my head.

“The poor girl was weeping to me for days before cautiously dosing me the idea of running away for a few days to see them. She planned everything, she wanted to use Karrie as an alibi telling we travel to visit her in her home in Sacramento.” she explains.

“And did you really sneak out? Did you attend the Cheap Trick gig?” I interrogate her excitedly.

“We did. I mean, we did follow them, we did see Cheap Trick and they were awesome…” she confirms but it’s obvious that there must be a twist in the story.

“…but? I can feel there was a “but” in that constellation.”

“But by the time we got back home our parents had already been out of their mind…”

“Ouch. Did they find it out?”

“Yes. Since poor Karrie called them and asked them about us innocently…”

“Nooo… did she forget…?” I gasp shocked.

“Hahaha, no, she’s one of the best allies in the world. She didn’t even know about her being our alibi. Effie was so busy with the execution of her plan that she forgot to inform the involved people…”

“I would lie if I said that has never happened to me…” I wrinkle my nose. “That was some story but I still don’t know the reason of your exceptional foosball skills.” I drum with my fingers on the table.

“After the case we got sentenced to a two week-long house arrest and household chore session. I mean not for running away to the show but for not being honest to our parents. I didn’t really care about the punishment since going nowhere and enjoying my own company was my favorite spare time activity at that time but Effie was inconsolable. Our main task was to clean up the cellar, to sort our old stuffs for the next garage sale, you know, all those usual things. But on the very first day we found Dad’s old foosball table of which existence we hadn’t even known. You can imagine how efficiently we worked after that discovery…”

“So I assume you didn’t manage to clean up the cellar but became professional foosball players…”

“Sort of. But do you know what’s the funniest in the story?” She goes on seeing that I shake my head. “Effie didn’t even ask our parents if they’d let us travel to Wisconsin. Effie just decided they wouldn’t allow it anyway; and probably she also wanted to get into an exciting adventure she could tell later to her grandchildren in the rest of her life…” she sums up fidgeting with the ashtray.

“I can only repeat, I agree with her… I mean… we only live once, life is short, carpe diem and imagine here at least three further clichés about living for the moment, but they make sense, if you hesitate too much one day you’ll realize life ran past you.”

“Oh, philosophical moments with ‘Cready? The spiritual side of the lead guitarist?” she giggles.

“The ironical side of the future monitor engineer?” I fire back. “But it was a good story, thanks for sharing it, I’d be glad if I could met your sister one day, as you described her she seems like a very interesting personality…”

“You know what’s interesting, Mike?” Stone suddenly joins the conversation with a rhetoric question and something in his voice tells me that the peaceful part of this chat is over. “That there are people who haven’t even heard about modesty and make the others around them admire their abilities even if they are totally average after all.” he goes on. I knew he was up to something, Stone never listens to anyone speechless for so long time without any specific reason.

“Mike, have I mentioned to you which personality type I hate the most?” Judy turns with an inquiring expression to me. “I think of those people who criticize the others all the time but don’t even realize they’re actually talking about themselves. Wait, no, I hate more those stuck-up poseurs who are always showing off displaying their actual or imagined skills but in the moment someone is better than them they start pouting like a three-year-old and don’t even try to bear their fiasco with dignity!” I duck my head as if their words could physically hit me. Oh man, that’s tough. My grandpa used to tell me stories about his experiences at the European front line during World War II but I never listened to him properly. I should have done so because I feel as if I was standing in the middle of a battlefield and grenades and cannon balls were whizzing around me.

“And what about those people who use their family ties to achieve something and then play the innocent lamb when someone confronts them with the truth?” Stone keeps firing but he’s still looking at me as if he was addressing me with his pretended question.

“Imagine, Mike, there are even fuckin’ psychos who attack other people in their beds and talk shit about them behind their back!” Judy is already yelling and beats against the table with her fist while saying “back”.

“You see, Mike, the chick talks to stuffed animals and licks knives but I’m the psycho, excellent, congrats…” Stone claps his hands mockingly a few times.

“That’s enough, I’m not willing to listen to this bullshit any longer!” Judy fumes and basically kicks me out of the seat to get a free way. But Stone is faster, by the time she reaches the corner of the box he slips out with a quick move and jumps in front of her making her start back. The guy has a sense of dramaturgy; the picture of the tiny Judy gasping furiously with clenched fists and his smirking down at her taking advantage of his lanky figure reminds me of those cartoon scenes where the amused Tom is torturing the raging Jerry a bit before throwing him onto a pan.

“You know what, Stone? Let’s clear a few things, okay? A: I’m not catholic, I’m not even baptized. B: The vocational school of substitute music teachers I attended was actually Juilliard, for your information. And C: for two years, two months and fourteen days I haven’t been daddy’s little girl anymore, however much I want to be. Do you want to insult me? Fine. But please do me a favor and at least try to do the job properly by getting to know me at first because your random attempts are nothing but pathetic.” she spits scornfully and leaves declaring the debate is over. Stone doesn’t turn after her, only his smug grin grows a little bit wider.

“Challenge accepted.” he clicks satisfied with his tongue.

#pearljam #do you wanna dance #fanfic #fanfiction #pearl jam #pearljamfanfiction #eddie vedder #stone gossard #jeff ament #mike mccready #dave abbruzzese

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arsenicolada · 7 years ago

Note

Hi I'm so sorry to be a bother but do you have any bearboyfriends headcanons? I'm writing a fic but I have no idea of how to go about their relationship lol.

I’ve got a few!

Before Billy Bob realized he had feelings for Beach (and that he liked men) he mistook his attachment as strong friendship and was super oblivious to Beach’s low-key flirting. Like Beach would say something along the lines of “You sang that perfectly.” and Billy Bob would just be like “Aww, c’mon now Beach! There’s always room for improvement! I bet I can do it even better next time.” And poor Beach is left internally screaming.

Billy Bob is pretty much how Beach realized he was gay. He vented to Dook about yet another bad breakup, then started going on about why he’s like this and why the spark goes out so fast and why his girlfriends can’t make him feel the way Billy Bob does– And it was in that very moment when it finally clicked.

Beach is a lil’ shit that loves to push everyone’s buttons, but if anyone so much as looks at Billy Bob in a malicious manner he will eND THEM.

Billy Bob is protective of Beach too but is much less… aggressive about it. Unless someone is really going on Beach hard, then you bet your bottom dollar Billy Bob won’t be as merciless.

The band lives in a shared apartment, though Billy Bob along with Looney are the only ones who don’t officially room with them, they still live at their cabin which is joined with Smitty’s. But they do occasionally stay in the apartment if they need to, and when that happens Beach is in a much more excitable mood than usual and eases up on the sarcasm. Because who can be an ass in the presence of Billy Bob I mean c’mon?? However, when they get further into their relationship Beach will actually go over to Smitty’s and stay with Billy Bob for a night or two, while Looney stays at the apartment so he doesn’t have to hear them cooing at each other for hours on end.

They’re perhaps the most casual couple out there in terms of doing stuff. Like they can spend a whole night sitting on the couch and munching on a cheese plate or just go grocery shopping together and they’d be absolutely content.

Choo-Choo lives at the shared apartment with Beach and the others, but the cub will get very distressed when Billy Bob isn’t there for a whole day. So Beach packs up the baby bag and Choo-Choo’s favorite Winnie the Pooh plush and goes over to Smitty’s so the little guy can see his other dad. Billy Bob even has a spare crib in case they stay overnight, or if Choo-Choo just needs a nap.

Billy Bob is Beach’s favorite pillow and he takes any chance he gets to snuggle him. Most of the time it’s subtle like wrapping his arm around him, but other times he’ll just fall face-first on Billy’s stomach with a muffled ‘pOMPF!’

One of Beach’s hobbies is making leis out of his favorite flowers and shells, and he made one for Billy Bob as an anniversary gift.

Due to the height difference sometimes kisses/nuzzles can be a bit challenging. Earlier in their relationship Beach would just bend over, but once Billy Bob gets more confident in his forwardness, he just grabs Beach and dips that sucker for a smooch. The first time he did it Beach was so caught off guard and so… wanted him to do it again.

Billy Bob loves when Beach gets all hyper and yell-y, it’s one of the cutest things about him. Along with his smile, his dimples, the way his eyes cross, how much he loves babies and his frog, and… pretty much everything about him.

Beach is just enthralled with Billy Bob. Everything about him makes his heart melt with pure love.

and you better link me to that fic when you’re done, I wanna read that goodness

#anon #pirate fabbles #rae post #bear boyfriends

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pen-masta · 8 years ago

Text

Duly Noted Part 2

1 2 3

“Alright so how do you want to do this?” Haley sitting on the spinning stool, swinging her feet. “Oh! You could use your calligraphy pens!”

“Oooh yeah!” Joy pipes happily and grabs her pens from her homemade-clay-pen-holder.

She could write a cute little note in cursive and draw little hearts and then...wait. She puts the pens back in the holder.

“No, no can’t hand write it,” Joy pouts.

“Why not?” Haley asks.

“Cassie is like the genuine junior detective of junior detectives.” She smirks, “Before he’d even believe someone sent him a love note he’d cross references it with something every woman in his life has given him.”

“What could he possibly use?” Haley questions raising a brow.

Joy smiles, “Cassie is actually a really sentimental guy. Every card or letter he’s ever gotten from me, our sisters, and his family he’s kept.”

Haley blinks, “Really?”

Joy nods, “Yup he’s got them all in a little shoe box under his bed.” She smiles more and says thoughtfully, “He even still has the letters I sent to him when he spent that summer at space camp.”

Haley grins herself watching her sister disappear into her own thoughts about her friend. But they do have to get to work so...

“Hey Joy? Earth to Joy,” Haley says nudging her sister with her foot.

Joy jumps out of her thoughts to look at Haley, “What?”

“We want to get this done, yes?” Haley smirks

Joy shakes her head and smiles, “Right right. What were we saying?”

“No hand written notes,” Haley says.

Joy nods, “Right so...what else could we do?”

They’re both quiet for a moment before Joy snaps her fingers.

“How about we cut out letters from magazines and glue them to some paper?” Joy smiles brightly. “No handwriting involved!”

“You mean like a ransom note?” Haley snorts a little, “Dear Cassie I’ve stolen your heart. If you ever want to see it alive again you must meet my demands, this Saturday Smittie’s restaurant six o’clock. Bring flowers. Come alone.” Haley says in ominous voice.

Joy giggles and shrugs, “Ok, ok not my best idea.”

The two girls sigh and are quiet again.

Haley rolls her eyes and shrugs, “Why not send him an email? Or like a message on Facebook or something?”

Joy mulls the idea over, “How would our mystery girl get Cassie’s information to do that though?”

Haley shrugs, “Maybe she’s a friend of yours and you gave her Cassie’s information.”

Joy scrunches her nose up a little, “I would never do that without his say-so he knows that.”

Haley shrugs, “How about we just type up a note then and give it to him the old fashion way.”

Joy quirks a brow, “Which is?”

Haley smirks, “Cowardly slip it in his locker.”

Joy snorts before laughing and nods, “Alright alright. So maybe our mystery girl really likes him, but she’s too shy to be upfront with him?”

“Yeah!” Haley nods, “We could type up a really sweet note with like her information at the end. And then it’d be up to Castel to find her.”

Joy sighs, “But she doesn’t have any ‘information’ she’s not real.”

Haley waves her hand dismissively, “We’ll take care of that. We can make up a fake email account, or Istagram, or something. Hey! And I know how to text someone anonymously so our mystery girl could even text him.”

Joy smiles and shrugs, “Alright sounds good to me sista!”

“Let’s do this!” Haley cheers as Joy pulls out her laptop.

“So what should we say?” Joy asks

“Well we want to make it clear she’s into him, so maybe compliment something about him.” Haley chews her bottom lip thinking, “Like I don’t know...the way he dresses or his grades or something.”

“No way, that won’t get Castel.” Joy says seriously.

“Really?” Haley asks

Joy nods, “Those are generic things that everyone always compliments. People will always compliment the way you dress, or how well you do in school, or how you drive, or simple things like that. The kind of stuff people usually use for small talk conversations. No, it needs to be something more about him. Something more personal that someone would have to take the time to notice. Like an eye-appealing feature that would immediately attract you to him.”

Haley smiles a little at how serious her baby sister is speaking, “Alright well then what’s great about Cassie. You know him best, what’s his greatest feature?”

Joy pauses and bites her lip in concentration, humming a little while she thinks.

“His smile,” she says thoughtfully. “Yeah his smile is always the first thing I notice when I see him.” A little smile curls her lips as she pictures Castel’s smile in her head. “His smile is so perfect, his teeth are so shiny and straight. And he always smile so big especially when he’s talking about a new invention his trying to create or a new monster he’s found to hunt down. Or even if he’s making a goofy face, or when he’s laughing hysterically. You can always tell how happy he is or how much fun he’s having by the way he smiles.” She giggles a little feeling a warm feeling grow in her belly at the thought of his beautiful grin. “He smile is just so amazing, it’s a just a smile but it’s such a huge part of him. It sparkles when he grins with his teeth, and it’s so adorable when he smile with his mouth shut. If he’s really excited about something it gets so big like when he was little. It kind of has this boyish charm to it. It’s just so warm and friendly, genuine and inviting and really almost...heart stopping.”

Joy blinks realizing she’s been kind of rambling on about her best friend’s smile. She glances at Haley who is smiling sweetly at her--Joy feels her cheeks heating up slightly.

She giggles airily, “Sorry.”

Haley shakes her head, “No, no are you kidding? Joy that was perfect!”

Joy smiles, “You think so?”

Haley nods, “Definitely that’s the feature you open with. His warm and friendly and heart stopping smile.” She smiles herself, “Now let’s pick a font and write this puppy!”

Joy giggles along with her sister excited to slip the love note into his locker. This will really get her Cassie back on the ol’ confidence train for sure!

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stone-man-warrior · 6 years ago

Text

October 31, 2014: 8:59

(Today, the day I am posting this archive, is April 4, 2019. I need to explain something for readers that will help them understand what is happening in these posts.

There came a time in my experience, and then is the witness accounts that I wrote and am sharing here again, when it became challenging to write due to fear of incriminating myself to a crime. Although no crimes were committed, the impostor police were attempting to frame me for things that I did not understand. I only knew that I was being set-up for a variety of framed crimes. That is one reason I became aware beyond a doubt that the police are indeed impostors and it was nit just a few criminals dressed like cops, it was the entire State Police force. So, I turned out that I had killed a number of people in defense of my life. I needed to write about the events, so, I chose to write in the third person. This post is among the first of those times when I chose to write in the third person in effort to keep from being framed. There will be a number of posts that reflect the fear I had of writing about circumstances that included loss of human life, even if those lives were those of terror soldiers, they still are human beings and are no longer alive, and are no longer able to be arrested or questioned about circumstances surrounding this kind of terrorism, and this kind of warfare. That fact is a troubling shame. Dead terrorists cannot say the details if how they do terror, and I do nit have all of the answers. Every time a terror soldier dies, the details of that soldiers involvement in this war also dies.

Since the time of this post on 10-31-2014, I have come terms with the fact that the USA is at war. I have every confidence that in the event that national security personnel begin to examine the circumstances, they too will see that the USA is indeed at war, and has been since 1971. The war we are involved in is one that has not been declared yet. It will be shown that my actions in self defense are such that those actions are indeed actions in defense of the United States of America, and more importantly, in defense of Freedom.

I was forced to protect my life yesterday at the grocery store, and at my home prior to leaving to the store, and in doing so, eight terror soldiers died so that I could survive. We are at war in the USA. The baby is on fire, and there is no one watching the baby.)

For those interested:<br><br>Aside from grief associated with terrorist group... StoneMan .Warrior - 2014-10-31T23:59:53-0400 - Updated: 2014-10-31T23:59:53-0400

For those interested: Aside from grief associated with terrorist groups that have taken over the Rogue Valley medical industry, (e.g. Medford Medical Clinic; Ventana Wellness center; Asante' Medical; Grants Pass Clinic; Crisis Resolution Center; Options of Southern Oregon; and a host of others) there is other grief associated with terrorist organizations of all kinds. Dale C. Hurst is the owner and operator of a Dale C. Hurst L.L.C. He is famous for his quick acquisition of the small, "Mom & Pop" convenience stores which, not long ago, were located in the Rogue Valley and served the small communities of the area. Mr. Hurst has a plan in mind to take over the Rogue Valley simply by virtue of knowing who is who, and what is what, in those small communities. He knows everyone now, as well as what any individual does, their daily routines, and family associations of the customers who shop at those convenience stores. Mr. Hurst has made an association with Shell Oil Company and with that association comes money... working capital with which to use to gather such information. The employees who work for Mr. Hurst are not to be trusted. I advise extreme caution whenever visiting a "Li'l Pantry Market", which is the name and logo of the convenience stores Mr. Hurst has taken over. Furthermore, it is the opinion of StoneMan that the former "Mom & Pop" owners of the establishments Mr. Hurst has acquired were either killed, or worse... possibly pressured out of business somhow at a minimum. I can recall a particular fire at one of these stores... i do not believe the fire was an accident. Good Guys: Please look further into the subject of this post. My need to post tonight is in response to a visit to Li'l Pantry Market and Shell Station at the corner of 6th St. and Morgan Lane in Grants Pass. The way it looks to me, when a customer arrives at the fuel station, they are told that cash, paid to the attendant at the pump, will save about $0.50 per gallon of fuel, in lieu of paying inside at the cash register, or by credit card. As a result, I noticed that each of the many attendants of the fuel station portion of the Li'l Pantry & Shell Station all had many hundreds of dollars with them, in their pockets. It is the opinion of StoneMan that whenever someone wants fuel for their vehicle, the attendants take the money outright. No receipt from the gas pump is offered when paying cash. Furthermore, the attendants seem to works as team. Someone will make confusing statements that do not make sense, someone else will cause a distraction such that the customer's attention is drawn away from themselves. At that time, a third attendant will attempt to injure the customer with a small caliber firearm (the dreaded "Twenty-five"). The Twenty-five will not kill the victim, it will injure the victim. An injured victim is much easier to escort away than a dead one. An injured victim is considered "fresh meat", or in the event of a child victim, the term is "Veal". Asante', and others, are very interested in injured "Fresh Meat" and will pay a fee for deliverance of such products. StoneMan encountered this set events just two hours ago. The result, as far as I could assess, was two dead attendants of that Li'l Pantry on 6th and Morgan. There may have been a third injured party as well. More grief was encountered at the Ray's Food Place on Merlin/Galice Rd. shortly after the incidents described above. As a result of that grief, it is in the opinion of StoneMan that an assassin wound up in the meat department, beheaded, and could possibly still be in the "Hot Food" section of the store where cooked meat products are for sale and kept warm and ready for sale. Sometimes, that hot food section of the meat department there at Ray's food place contains meat of non-recognizable origin... and often, those packages have a hand written note on the foil container. The note is the name of a human-being. With that said, it is in the opinion of StoneMan that Mr. Timothy Smith is currently for sale at the hot food section of the meat department of Ray's Food Place on Merlin Galice Road. Right now, as I report this post, Mr. Smith, the manager of the store, is currently for sale as a meat product at the very store he should be managing. It is notable that durring tonight's visit to Ray's Food Place, StoneMan did not see, nor encounter, any of the regular employees of the Ray's of subject here. There were several persons available as employees, however, in 20 years of shopping there, Stoneman did not recognize any of them. The Checkout Clerk specifically advised me that "Tim" was available in the Hot Food section upon request. Tim... Timothy Smith, locally known as Smitty. StoneMan pledges to keep America free by eliminating terrorism on the spot, at the time such terrorism is apparent, without hesitation. StoneMan is not equipped to take prisoners... StoneMan simply leaves the terrorists where they fall. Thank you for your support in eliminating this serious threat to "Freedom". Your Freedom, my Freedom, and that of our children. Open Season on Dale C. Hurst.

Shared with: Public

StoneMan .Warrior - 2014-11-01T03:01:40-0400

A reminder of previous posts, and how the information of them connects to tonight's post: Asante' and other medical providers of the Rogue Valley purchase human bodies. The bodies are victims.... American Citizens. The assailants are the entities described in my posts. Why buy Human bodies? Screen Actors Guild is the answer. Why Screen Actors Guild? Members are aware of the dangers of excess consumption of drugs and alcohol. What does that awareness have to do with body parts? Guild members, which include actors, musicians, entertainers of all kinds including those employed as theme park characters such as Micky Mouse at DisneyLand... the list goes on. These are people who have powerful connections in both high and low places, connections to attorneys and especially... money and power. With that said and to answer the question, SAG members have developed a system through which there is ALWAYS a vast supply of hearts, kidneys, livers and other human vital organs. Why are human vital organs necessary to be on hand at all times for these people? SAG members enjoy the lifestyle they choose. A lifestyle that is guided by serious drug and alcohol abuse. The idea is that as long as human organs are always available in every size and blood type, then in event of kidney, heart, or liver failure, SAG members have a private supply for transplant... a supply that is different from the way the average person could possibly attain a donor organ. That sounds too unreal, how could this possibly be happening? This system was put into place long ago... more than 40 years this has been going on. The system was working flawlessly and largely unnoticed for many years, however, over time, many of the suppliers of the desired products have found other means by which to make profit from them. Injured terrorists also need a vast supply of vital organs. Human bombs don't require a backpack anymore, there is a new way that makes a terrorist Martyr a re-usable Martyr. I cannot explain further due to the simplicity by which such a thing can happen. How do you know this is true? MK Ultra; Recent events; and as a victim to such a harvest of organs. Remember, when you watch your favorite actor or actress in a movie, or listen to your favorite Rock Band, or purchase a Disney logo item... YOU are funding the very thing that will come and take the heart from your child. And that IS the way it is. I intend to stop the Madness.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2014-11-01T03:13:33-0400

In Addition: Something to consider, if SAG can have access to the supply, then so can senators, congressmen, and supreme court justices, which means there is little hope of getting help from folks on Capital Hill, it's their playground. Don't forget that Ronald Reagan was a President after he was SAG. The list goes on. The connections are deep. Only the President of the United States of America could possibly have the power to stop what I know from continuing. There is also the more likely outcome that I could simply be stopped from knowing... ...but now you know. We all must know, so tell your friends and families please. Even if you feel I am wrong, why take chances?

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