#t minus like 15 hours before building drop

[yappacadaver]

The way he calls you “my heart” just before having that thang cut out forever

[ckbookish]

BATMAN BINGO MASTER POST 2020

1 "I thought you were dead.": I Still See Your Ghost 

Today was just not Dick's day. First he overslept his alarm and was late to work. Amy had been less than impressed at his tardiness... Then He had bungled what should have been an easy take town... But the straw that broke the camel's back was Tim. Dick had forgotten to call Tim. 

2 Friendly fire: Fratricide 

Jason was pissed. No, Jason was enraged. Yeah, he was enraged at the whole mess his family-- if that’s even what they were to each other anymore-- had gotten him in. It was meant to be a simple night. Break in. Torch the drugs. Maybe shoot a couple of people and go home. But no, Batman heard about his plans and decided that arson was too extreme. “Someone could get hurt.” Well someone had gotten hurt, a lot of someones. 

3 Hypothermia: Weekend Commute 

Dick Grayson makes his way home during the first snow fall of the year, when he finds himself confused and cold, miles from home.

Chapter two Bruce's perspective.

4 Superman: Bringer of the Dawn

The Aftermath of when the Joker shoots Dick.

or

Where do you go when your family tells you to get out?

5 Shot: The Gratitude Trap

Bruce finds himself in the dark, a place he never thought he would be when it came to Clark Kent and Dick Grayson. Yet here he is digging for answers, because he is too scared to pick up the phone and call. 

6 Two-face: The Better Choice 

How do you reconcile the man who was once your friend with the monster he has become? Bruce reflects on how the man he once called his best friend changed. How could the man who helped him foster Dick, hold that baseball bat? 

7 Drowning: Omori’s Law

Deep in the sewer's under Gotham, Batman is trapped. There is no back up, no Robin. He is faced with the single truth that he tried to teach each of his partners... You have to save yourself. 

  8 Found Family: A Restoration from a Resilient Heart

Dick just wants to not be alone with the shadows in the house. Bruce doesn't realize he has lived with them for far to long, and maybe he doesn't have to anymore.

9 Adoption: The Irrefutable Truth

When he reached the reception, he found himself looking around a fairly empty room. There were a few call girls in the corner filling out forms, an older woman holding a dog, a kid that looked about twelve and a middle aged man who looked like he was ready to cry. He knew no one. Dick was about to turn around and head back to his desk when the on duty officer called out to him. Officer O’Conner was one of his fellow rookies, he had a thick accent. Dick thought he might be from Louisiana. “Grayson! Why didn’t you say your brother was coming to see you?” Dick looked at him with his mouth slightly open. There was no way he heard that right. “My what?” 

10 Bruises: Mr. Wayne

Tim is new to this. He's only been Robin for a little over six months. It was going well. But now he was going to be fired. Batman wouldn't want a partner who got caught at school with a black eye. Would he?

11 Bruce is dead: You Have One Saved Message 

Gotham gossip columns spread lies and smear good people's names. But yet Damian can't help but think maybe this mornings article was true.  That despite all his claims of being the true son of Bruce Wayne, he was in fact the only unwanted one.

12 CPR: Vital Signs 

Robin wakes to find him and Batman in an exploded factory. With Batman injured and the building burning around them, Dick struggles to get them both to safety.   

13 Dad:  Storge 

Bruce could have sworn his spirit had left him momentarily.  The sudden hollowness that filled him couldn’t be explained in any other way. 

 “Your dad must have his hands full with you.”  Elizabeth Ribbons leaned forward and patted Dick’s shoulder, as he reached for yet another slice of cheesecake from a passing waiter’s tray.  

Bruce fixed his eyes on the ice sculpture that hid him from view.  It suddenly seemed like the most interesting design in the world.  The soft lines of the ice on the otherwise insignificant over sized swan seemed like a lead shield...  Because Dick would read it easily in his expression. He wanted to be Dick’s dad.  But he wasn’t. 

14 Stealing the Batmobile: T-Minus Six Hours

Some days Tim is sure that he’s gonna be killed. Usually it’s some luck shot or near miss that made his life flash before his eyes. Not today though. Today he was positive Bruce was going to kill him. Yes, today was the day that Timothy Jackson Drake was going to be put down. He’s not sure that even Nightwing could save him. He was going to go down in history as the first sidekick to be murdered by their mentor. Because the Batmobile was definitely not where he’d parked it.

15 Wayne Enterprises: Amidst the Absence of Meaning 

Bruce is worried. He's running on less than three hours of sleep, and way too many cups of coffee. He had messed up. That much was obvious. The question was would Dick forgive him?

A gruesome night on patrol bleeds into Bruce's work day and now all he can wonder is if this is the thing that will push Dick over the edge? Had he finally seen to much pain?

16 Ransom: Sum of My Worth

The ring of the phone seemed to echo through the manor’s still too quiet long, winding halls, and everyone present collectively held their breath. Bruce lunged for the phone.   

17 Secret Injury: Hiding in Pain Sight

“What?” Dick asked sharper than he meant to. He was tired.

“Nothing.” Tim said with a small smirk. “Heavy is the head.”

Dick closed his eyes, glad that Tim couldn’t see them. He was so sick of this. Tim, Jason, Damian and Cass all didn’t think he was good enough, well Cass hadn’t said that, but Dick could read her. They didn’t think he was up to the job. Well they didn’t need to tell him that. He knew it.

18 Superboy: An Interlude in Breathing 

Tim looked out over the water in a daze. Bruce and Dick had gone somewhere below deck and he was alone. Well there were strangers on the ship mingling and talking excitedly--but Tim gave them no notice. Instead he watched the water lap up against the hull and crash down back to meet the dark, cold waters. They were far enough out that he could no longer see the shore. It was just endless expenses of sea and sky. Something tickled his neck and he started, only to realize he had been crying. It was only a tear slipping under his collar.

The days after the battle of Infinite Crisis

19 Betrayed: Smother

She took another drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke roll in her lungs for a long moment before allowing it hiss out between her teeth. The screams from the warehouse weren’t completely muffled by the distance, or the walls. Perhaps she was only imagining them. But then, sounds like that, she didn’t think she could dream up. She jumped after a particularly high pitched yelp. “Get a grip.” She dropped the cigarette and pulled out another. Her hand shook as she lit it. “It’s just some random kid. He’s not--” She bit back a sob. She didn’t deserve to cry. She had no right to tears, not when it was her fault.   

20 Crowbar: Breaklights

The mail fell to the ground and the paper smacked the tiles hard.  The sound in reality couldn’t have been all that loud, but it seemed to echo around the entryway.  Bruce didn’t look at the dropped bills and the invitation to a fundraiser for the new Gotham women’s shelter.  He was too fixated on the small stamp with the queen of England's head on it.  Wolverhampton.  

The large envelope was far heavier then it should have been.  Bruce could feel bile crawling up his throat.  

He had forgotten.

21 Deathstroke: Debts and Dues

There were some things that were never pleasant, getting caught in the snow without socks, losing your keys, and not being able to remember the name of a song. Having a gun pointed at your chest, Dick felt, qualified as extremely unpleasant. He stood stock still. The barrel of the gun was still hot, it burned slightly as it dug into his sternum. Even with his uniform he could still feel the heat left over from previous rounds fired. He didn’t flinch. He couldn’t flinch. “Move.” “You know I can’t.” Dick wondered if Slade had the guts to do it.   

22 Mission Gone Wrong: Murmur in the Quiet Hours

Superman? Clark froze. He knew that voice. But-- he had never heard it sounding so sad. Was that-- no. Clark dove for his phone, still on the counter from when he got home last night. The screen was black. Dead. Clark swore and dropped it. He was in his coat and shoes before it hit the counter top.   

23 Kidnapped:  Chum 

Dick trumped through the leaves, stopping his feet roughly. He relished the sound of the crunch beneath his shoes as he tread on the brown, dead leaves before him. He felt rather justified in his satisfaction. After all the world had taken so much from him, why wouldn’t he do his best to crush it in return. The woods were cool and as he went deeper into them they grew darker. The sun had long set, and the sky was quickly vanishing as the trees grew thicker. Wayne Manor was far behind him. He was never going back. He hated those pristine walls, those old floor boards. He hated the quiet. He hated the stuffy furniture and the rules and the vases and pictures. He hated his new guardian and that… that… Dick couldn’t remember what Alfred was called, but he hated it. The bag on his back felt heavy. It had everything Dick owned in it. Well and a toothbrush that Alfred had given him. But he didn’t think that was really stealing. 

24 Riddler: Seeking Silence on Shortwaves

Normally Dick would be happy to listen to Tim talk. In fact, Dick thought it was one of his favorite sounds in the world. Tim rarely allowed himself to be excited about things. Hearing him speak so freely and openly to Bruce and him about his plans was refreshing. Dick only wished it wouldn’t be at the cost of his life.

Batman hadn't always been so strict about talking unnecessarily over comms. When it was just two of them it hadn't mattered, their walkie talkie system had always worked. But now that Nightwing and Robin were in Gotham, it seems insane that they never realized: if only one person can talk over the radio at a time... how could they call for help?

25 Mr. Freeze: Glimpsing the Sun While Trapped in the Rime

He almost called Bruce between his fourth and fifth class. He pulled his phone out, leaning against his locker, and half dialed his number when a warm hand fell on his shoulder. “Hey.” Dick spun around and blinked back black spots as his body protested the sudden movement. A blaze of red hair filled his vision and Dick felt a small fire build in his chest. His face split into a wide smile.

After a run in with Mr. Freeze Dick finds himself feeling odd at school, but he can't go home, not when Barbara's asked him to drive her to Betty's party after school.

[discotreque]

LwD 1.10, “No Small Parts”

Well, that was the most fun I've had watching Star Trek in literally a quarter of a century.

I had high hopes for this series. I love TAS, largely because of its wacky outsized concepts that could only have worked in animation—not that they all did work, but the potential was so apparent to me, even as a kid reading the Alan Dean Foster novelizations—and as an adult, there's something about the imagination of Lower Decks's FX setpieces that transcends even the glorious CGI bonanzas of Discovery.

Pause for a confession. I've long pushed back against criticism of serialization in new Trek. That's just how TV is now, okay? Might as well complain about it being in widescreen. But I'm backing down a little, because I've realized there is something about Star Trek that's inextricable from at least a partially-episodic format. And while Picard was telling a different kind of story, I can't deny that my favourite episodes of Disco have been the ones with a mostly self-contained A-plot. After 10 delightfully episodic instalments of LwD, its focus on long-term development of characters instead of a season-spanning puzzle-plot (okay, mostly just Mariner, but we only have 10 × 22 minutes and she is the star) has been downright refreshing.

So here we are, at the end of the most consistent and well-executed Season 1 of a Star Trek series since, arguably, Those Old Scientists. And sure, if they'd had to produce another... yikes, 42 episodes? Then sure, they probably would have dropped a clunker or two—but they didn't, and winning on a technicality is still winning. I'm practically vibrating with excitement for Disco to come back next week, but damn, I'm going to miss this little show while it's on hiatus.

Spoilers below:

Something I've been keeping track of finally paid off this week! (Which never happens to me, lol.) The destruction of the USS Solvang marked the first present-day death(s) of any Starfleet officer on Lower Decks, the only other on-screen killing at all being a flashback in "Cupid's Errant Arrow". Which makes sense, being (a) a comedy, and (b) about typically "expendable" characters: it hasn't been afraid to flirt with a little darkness here and there, but killing people off at Star Trek's usual pace wouldn't just be wrong for the tone, it would be downright bizarre.

But... people die on Star Trek. That's one of the core themes of the show, really: space is full of knowledge and beauty, but also danger and terror, and believing that the former is worth the risk of the latter is (according to Trek) one of humanity's most noble traits. I'm the least bloodthirsty TV watcher I know, but the longer we went with a body count of nil—ships completely evacuated before they were destroyed, main characters hilariously maimed without permanent consequences, etc.—well, I didn't mind per se, but the absence of truly deadly stakes was definitely getting conspicuous.

Turns out they were saving it up for maximum impact. And holy fuck, I've never felt such a pit in my stomach watching a ship get destroyed that wasn't named Enterprise. It felt grim and brutal and somehow both much too quick and dreadfully inevitable—and yeah, it looked extremely fucking cool—and I'd like every other Star Trek property for the rest of time to take notes under a large bold heading labeled RESTRAINT.

Comedy doesn't need to do this, but my favourite comedy does, and in a way that few other art forms can even approach: lower my emotional defences by making me laugh, endear character(s) to me with goofy-but-relatable antics—then BAM, sucker-punch me in the motherfucking feels. M*A*S*H is probably the classic example on TV, Futurama was notorious for it, and even Archer has pulled it off a few times; it's also a staple of some of my favourite standup. I wasn't sure if Lower Decks was going to go there in Season 1—and wasn't sure if they'd earn it—but I knew if they did, that they'd nail it, and damn. Feels good to be right.

Last batch of notes for the season!!! I rambled enough already, so let's do it liveblog-style:

I fucking KNEW they were going to use "archive" visuals from TAS at some point, I KNEW IT :D

"THOSE OLD SCIENTISTS" ahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I like chill and confident Boimler a lot? You can really see—

oh bRADWARD NOOOOO

That opening shot of the Solvang tracking down to the red giant was extremely Discovery-esque... minus the motion sickness, that is

A lady captain AND a lady first officer? That's—oh hey, it's Captain Dayton's brand-new ship. Hahaha, that means they're totally fucked, right?.

Yep! They sure a—umm, wh—shit, okay, but—oh no—no, you can't—wait DON'T

...fuck

FUCK.

Narrator: "And then Amy needed a five-hour break."

[live-action Star Trek showrunner voice] "Gee, Mike! Why does CBS let you have two cold opens?"

Okay, yes, the bit with Rutherford cycling through all the different attitudes in his implant was transparently an excuse for Eugene Cardero to vamp while waiting for something to do in the story, but as far as I'm concerned they can contrive a reason for him to do a bunch of different silly Rutherfords in a row any time they damn well want, because that was classic!!!

EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP

AND THE EXOCOMP IS PAINTED LIKE THE EXOCOMP IS WEARING A LITTLE EXOCOMP-SIZED STARFLEET UNIFORM

EXOCOMP!!!!!

The slow burn and now the payoff of the Mariner-is-Freeman's-secret-daughter plot has been executed so well. I'm beyond impressed with this writer's room, y'all—they are threading a hell of a needle here

"Wolf 359 was an inside job" would have been a spit-take if I'd had anything in my mouth

...how many memos do you think Starfleet Command has had to issue asking people to stop calling the USS Sacramento "the Sac"?

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'VE DECORATED THE SHUTTLECRAFT SEQUOIA THOUGH

Is, uh, is it weird if I'm starting to ship Tendi and Peanut Hamper a little? It is weird, isn't it. I knew it was weird...

Coital barbs??? I take back everything I said about wanting to know more about Shaxs/T'Ana.

The "good officer" version of Mariner is... kind of hot, tbh! But Tawny Newsome has done such a great job of building this character all season that her voice getting uncharacteristically clipped and martial and "sir! yes, sir!" is also deeply, deeply weird

Ah, so this is literally exactly like when TNG (and DS9) would bring in, and then blow up, a never-before-seen Galaxy-class ship, just to underscore that we're facing a real threat this week, baby. And hey, it fucking worked—my heart was in my throat, omg, for the reveal of the—

PAKLEDS?????????

The fucking PAKLEDS have been gluing weapons to their ships for the last 15 years. GREAT.

(We interrupt the SHIP BEING SLICED INTO SCRAP for an interesting bit of world-building: on Earth, the traditional First Contact Day meal is salmon!)

"I need a dangerous, half-baked solution that breaks Starfleet codes and totally pisses me off! That's an order." I'm starting to think Captain Freeman might actually be overqualified for the Cerritos, y'all—she's REALLY awesome

OH SHIT IT'S BADGEY, this is a TERRIBLE IDEA

"How much contraband have you hidden on my ship?" "I don't know! A lot!"

Awwww, Boims!!!

AHAHAHAHAHAHA, FUCK THIS, PEANUT HAMPER OUT

BADGEY NOOOOO

AUGHHHHH WHAT THE CHRIST DID HE JUST—BUT—RUTHERFORD'S IMPLANT????

RUTHERFORD!!!!!!!!!!

SHAXS!!!!!!

F U C K ! ! ! ! !

ahaIOPugdfhagntpgjrq90e5mgu90qe5;oigoqgw4ouegrw5SP;IAEHURVa IT’S THE TITAN???????????

IT'S CAPTAIN WILLIAM T. RIKER ON THE MOTHERFUCKING TITAN??????????

i'm screaming I'M SCREAMINGGGGGG​TGGGTGQER;​LBHAOIBVNV;​OAPBIJNVagr;h;​oagruipuwtnaetbaetgq35ghqet

I'M SO GLAD THIS WASN'T SPOILED FOR ME WTF

I AM WEEPING LIKE A CHILD

...

(Just a brief 20-minute pause this time)

And oh wow, seeing Will and Deanna hits different after Picard too, in a few different ways, which I may even get into later now that my heartrate is back to normal, lmao

Oh, I am always here for some jokes at the expense of the Sovereign class. The Enterprise-E sucked. They should have built a new bigger model of the D and new Galaxy-class interiors for the TNG movies, and I will die on that hill

OKAY, FINE, YOU GOT ME, RUTHERFORD × TENDI WOULD BE ADORABLE AND THIS IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD SETUP FOR IT

Awwww, Shaxs though :( Congrats on the single most badass death in Star Trek history, dude. The Prophets would—well, the actual Prophets would probably be slightly confused about most of it, but Kira Nerys would be proud of you and I feel like that probably counts for more. RIP, Papa Bear

I am here all damn DAY for the Mariner–Riker parallels, ahahahahaha

Pausing it to record my prediction that Boimler's commitment to not caring about rank anymore is going to last 3... 2...

Yep.

Bradward, how DARE YOU.

"Those guys had a long road, getting from there to here." OH FOR THE LOVE OF—

What a brilliant way to resolve and renew the various character arcs and relationships moving into Season 2! The writers could easily have brought everything back to status quo—chaotic Mariner fighting with her mom and being a bad influence on Boimler, etc.—and done another 10 just like these, but I suspect that wouldn't have been ambitious enough for these writers. What a blast. I cannot wait for more.

Thanks for following along, friends! Stay tuned for my (similarly patchy and amateur) coverage of Discovery, starting next week!

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Holiday Dates (Pt. 2)

A/N: So here’s a part 2! I feel like this is almost like a slow burn, but not really, because there’s still chemistry and a soon to be date. But hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Teen!Gerard Way x Teen!F!Reader Word count: 2,851 Warnings: Swearing, public humiliation, and cyber bullying mentioned.

The project took hours and hours for you two to do, but every minute was worth it. You and Gerard had managed to split up the work pretty evenly, doing research of experiments, outcomes, everything, and concocting a Powerpoint that was pretty professional.

It was the day before your presentation, Thursday during lunch. You had yet to tell anyone besides your parents about the date with Gerard that would be taking place the day after. Your mom was excited at first, your father on the other hand took a protective stand, insisting he know more about Gerard and meet him, which you of course warned the boy about.

But walking to your usual table and sitting down everyone grew silent. You gave a confused look, “What’s up guys?” You asked taking a sip of your water.

“When were you going to tell us about your date with the nerd?” Jason asked, a stupid and cynical smile on his face. Your eyes went wide as you thought of an excuse.

“Um I was-” “Never gonna tell us, huh? Your friends that you were going out with a weirdo? Do you know how this could affect our reputations around the school?” You squinted your eyes at him, looking for any signs of him being sarcastic. But of course, there were none.

“What, do I now have to ask you for permission to go out with who I want to go out with?” A sudden confidence grew within you.

“I never said that.” He snapped back.

“You’re implying it.” You looked around at your friends who were all giving you looks, silently agreeing with Jason. You scoffed, getting up and grabbing your bag, “I can not believe this!” You said, “You really think me going on a date with Gerard is going to ruin your “reputations” around here?” “Yes, yes it is.” Jason responded.

“Go to hell!” You fired back, “It’s not like any of this is going to matter after high school anyways.”

“Y/N, people are looking.” Shanna harshly whispered at you.

“Let them look!” You said right back, looking at Jason again, “The audacity you have is unbelievable! My ex seriously trying to prevent me from going out again? At least Gerard isn’t a douche bag who just wants to fuck me.” You eyed him, his mouth partially agape in shock now, “So I would suggest, you go fuck yourself. All of you.” You stormed away unsure of where that sudden confidence came from. Everyone in the student commons were staring at you, some people even had their phones out. So yes, this would probably be the big news of the school in T-Minus 15 minutes.

You decided to instead walk to the bathroom having no where else to go. On your way in your internal rage you bumped into someone, not knowing who. “Oh I’m so sorry I-” “Hey, Y/N.” You heard Gerard’s calming voice, looking up to see his sweet smile and beautiful eyes. Damn he was gorgeous.

“Hey.” You responded, sighing, “I’m sorry about that I-” “No it’s alright, really.” He said, scanning your face for a moment, “What’s wrong?” His perfect eyebrows creased.

“It’s just,” You sighed, “I got into a fight with my friends over stupid stuff and I don’t know, nasty things were said.” He lightly nodded. “Where were you headed?” “To the bathroom,” You admitted, “I don’t really have any where else to go considering I just cursed out all of my friends.” “Well you didn’t to me.” He lightly smiled, “Here, c’mon, let’s go sit with my friends.” He told you.

“Oh, I um I-” “No, c’mon, I’m insisting.” He softly smiled.

“Oh, okay.” You said, walking next to him down the hall to the cafeteria. You walked in, and to be honest, there was something so warm about the all wood room. You hadn’t been to the cafeteria since your freshman year, being a junior now, but this was clearly where all the outsiders hung. And you didn’t mind it.

He walked you through the various aisles, tables on each sides of students talking and laughing, until you hit the final table at the end of the room, in the center. There were three other boys there. You studied each one of them individually, moments at a time. The first one had big, curly, red-ish, but kind of brunette hair. His fro was pretty impressive, and his red sweater looked pretty comfortable you had to admit.

The next you knew was Mikey. He was your lab partner in biology last year, as he was two grades ahead in science. He was really nice and docile, super sweet and helped you pass bio.

And finally was a short guy, not more than four inches taller than you, he was sitting on the table with a leather jacket that contrasted his button up shirt and tie. His sleek black hair and ear piercings caught you first.

“Hey guys.” Gerard greeted them, taking a seat at one of the empty chairs, another empty one next to it where he motioned for you to sit down. All three boys looked up to him with smiled before their eyes moved to you, their mouths all dropping and eyes going wide. “This is Y/N.” “Yeah you dummy, we know.” The black haired boy spoke. “I think every damn person in this building knows.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“I, um, I’m Ray, Ray Toro.” The fro boy spoke up.

“Nice to meet you.” You kindly smiled.

“I’m-” “Mikey, you were my bio partner last year.” “You remember me?” The thin boy asked with a light smile.

“Yeah, of course I do.” You responded, “You were the sole reason I passed that class.”

“Wait, you two already know each other?” Gerard gave you a confused look and you both nodded.

“Why?” You asked next.

“We’re brothers.” Gerard responded and now it was your turn to give a confused look. “For real?” You asked and they both nodded.

“Mikey, why didn’t you tell me you knew her?” Gerard now turned to his younger brother, eyeing him.

“I thought when you said Y/N, you meant another Y/N. Like Y/N Hamilton or Y/N Patricia. There are a lot of Y/N’s.” He sighed.

“Wait, you’re going out with Gerard?” Black hair boy asked. You nodded and he laughed, “You’re joking.” “No, I’m not.”

“Dude, why?” Gerard harshly nudged him.

“Shut up, Frank.” He defended you and Frank rolled his eyes.

“So why are you hanging with us?” He asked next.

“Because my friends are a bunch of asshats.” You admitted.

“Oh, miss goody too shoes swore.” Frank smiled and you eyed him, tempted to slap the boy across his face.

“Frank, you’re really good at ruining everything.” Gerard commented.

“So, what’re you into?” Ray asked, trying to break the tension.

“Honestly?” You inquired next and he nodded. “Well, I really really love to read. I love graphic novels and comic books too. And dogs, I love dogs.” “Then you should fit right in.” Mikey said next. 

“I thought Miss Perfect like clothes and jewelry and all.” Frank commented, his words creeping under your skin and biting. You kept your composure not trying to blow as you had just done so to your previous group of friends. “Leave her the fuck alone.” Gerard demanded, Ray and Mikey’s eyes going wide. Frank sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“Fine,” He stated reluctantly, “I will.”

“For the record I do like jewelry and clothes,” You looked at him, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t like other things too.”

The day went on after lunch, the video previously of course got passed around like wildfire. You chose to ignore it all, Gerard texting you halfway through your last period to ask how you were doing. You weren’t sure how to properly respond other than a simple “Fine.”

But the weird stared and mumbles as you walked down the halls with piercing eyes of fellow teenagers who managed to drill into your skin made you extremely uneasy.

It wasn’t until you were walking out of school and someone decided to call for you. Because of course, Jason had to label you as “psycho girl”, which was being passed around the school.

“Hey!” You heard another familiar voice. You looked back to see Frank pushing the throw the guy against the wall. He might’ve been small, but he had some guts. “Leave her alone!” He demanded, walking down the stairs to where you were with Mikey, Ray, and Gerard following.

“You alright?” Gerard asked you with a concerned look on his face. You nodded.

“Yeah,” You responded barely above a whisper, Gerard motioning for you two to exit the building along with the other guys. 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” He asked once the two of you were outside of the building. You shook your head.

“It’s the exact opposite way from where yours is.” You lightly laughed.

“I can still go-” “It’s okay, Gerard, really. You’ve done enough for me already.” You lightly sighed, “I’ll FaceTime you later, alright?” He nodded and gave a tight smile before turning the other way.

You got home, locking yourself into your room on the verge of breaking down. That was until your phone rang. You got up looking at it to see Gerard’s name popped up so you answered. “Hey,” He smiled on the other end.

“Hey.” You responded trying your hardest to smile.  “So, um, should we try to finish the project?” He asked and you nodded, propping your phone on your computer.

You opened up your shared project, talking to one another and going through who would present what. You could tell Gerard was trying to make you laugh, and while he usually would have been wildly successful with his stupid jokes, he barely got a snicker out of you. “Night sugar, you did well.” You lightly smiled.

“Thanks, Gee.” You stretched. “Never as smart as you though.” He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He leaned back on his bed. You rolled your eyes this time.

“Goodnight, Gee. You’re the best.” “Night.” He responded and you hung up.

You barely got any sleep last night. Even after deleting all social media to try and get away from any video of you surfacing and finding it’s way to you, your anxiety was still spiked. The melatonin didn’t help either.

So it was a pleasant surprise to see the boys at your locker talking. Gerard saw you walking towards them, and smiled, walking up to you. “Here,” He handed you a cup filled with the magic liquid in a cup, aka iced coffee. You smiled and took it from him. “I didn’t think you would get much sleep last night.”

“Well isn’t that so sweet of you.” You smiled genuinely for the first time in almost a day, scrunching your nose. You briefly looked over his shoulder to see your now old friends all looking at you, so you made a move.

Getting on your tip toes you leaned up and kissed Gerard on the cheek. When you pulled away his mouth was wide open, his face immediately turning red. Looking to your right you saw the three boys all staring the same, with their mouths agape, except for Frank who had a smug smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“What was that for?” Gerard asked a few seconds later, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For brining me coffee,” You smiled up at him, “And not being an ass.” You gave him a quick wave before walking off to your own class, the guys muttering some things as you left, what you assumed to be about you.

Your day went on pretty typically, ignoring all the nasty rumors and murmurs from your fellow peers who, based on one 15 second video, had managed to rebrand you as a person, and completely recreate a reputation for you.

That was until your AP Psych class finally came along. You walked in, sitting next to Gerard who smiled up at you. “You ready?” He asked and you nodded.

“I just wanted to say,” You started right after the bell rang, “That I wouldn’t have wanted to do this project with anyone else.” “Me neither.” He smiled, looking at you genuinely.

One by one Mr. Young called up the partner pairs, you and Gerard managed to be called last. “Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Way, you’re up.” He announced from behind his desk, pulling up the presentation you sent to him.

The two of you walked up to the front of the class, each of you standing on one side of the board. You had practiced over FaceTime at least three of four times, but presenting in front of Gerard was drastically different from presenting in front of 30 of your own peers. So naturally, your anxiety skyrocketed.

“Good morning, everyone.” Gerard began, as planned, “I’m Gerard.” “And I’m Y/N.” You put on your best face. “And we decided to do our project on social psychology, and how the human mind works and functions in given social situations.”

One by one you went on from each slide, you gradually getting more comfortable. You had to admit, you would have probably broken down completely by now if it wasn’t for Gerard occasionally stepping in on the spot to help you. But by the end, the two of you were going back and forth flawlessly off of each other’s ideas, a true team and everyone could tell. 

“And that’s all, thank you all so much.” Gerard smiled and you did too, walking back to your desks as the class clapped.

“Thank you Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Way that was wonderful.” Mr. Yang smiled, finishing up a few notes he has started writing when you started your presentation.

“I fucked it up.” You immediately told Gerard as the two of you walked out of class, the end of the bell still ringing. “I really fucked it up.” You groaned.

“No, you didn’t.” He lightly smiled, “You did great.” “Oh, please, if it wasn’t for you coming to save my ass we would both have a D on the project.” “Sugar,” He stopped you in the hall, taking you by your arm and pulling you to the side, “No, you didn’t fuck anything up. You did great, and I know we did extremely well on that project!” “Stop making me try to feel better,” You complained, “I fucked up both our grades.” “No you didn’t,” He argued, “And I’ll have confirmation of that by the end of the day, because Mr. Young always puts in the grades within a few hours.”

And much to your chagrin (well, not really) Gerard was right. By the end of the day when you were checking your grades on your phone, there popped up a new grade inserted for the project. Lo and behold it was a 97. Because a 98 would have made it an A+, and Mr. Young never gave out A pluses.

“See, I told you.” Gerard smiled, strutting up to your locker. “We nailed it.” You swung your backpack around your shoulder, standing back up and looking at him.

“Yeah I know,” You sighed, closing the door shut. The two of you began walking down the hall to where the other guys were, all at Frank’s locker. You stood there with them, a light and random conversation going about, taking up the intermediate time before exiting school for break. “So I’m picking you up tonight at 7?” Gerard asked, the two of you now outside and on the sidewalk. You nodded and smiled. “Great, see you then sugar.” “Bye, Gee.” You smiled and waved, walking the other way.

Every hour after that you were at the very least mentally preparing yourself for your date with Gerard. Sure, that saying may come with a negative connotation, but it was more so just you trying not to completely fuck up.

You had managed to do your makeup, not too heavy at all and quite natural, even though Gerard insisted numerous times that you were beautiful as is. Your mom also helped you with your hair, letting it’s natural texture go but with some very minor styling, getting some frizz and imperfections out.

“Sweetheart, you look gorgeous.” You mom clapped and smiled at the end.

“Mom, I’ve gone out with guys before.” You complained, looking at your phone. 6:58.

“Yes, but this man seems more,” She pondered trying to find the right words for a moment, “Respectable.” You rolled your eyes.

“Gerard is a great guy.” You concluded, sitting at the kitchen island across from her.

“Good,” She began, “Then he and your father should have no problems.” You nodded. Just a moment later you all heard the doorbell ring. You took a deep breath, letting out a slower one. Mainly out of excitement, but also trying to prevent yourself from squealing and jumping into Gerard’s arms the first time you saw him.

“Here goes nothing.” You mumbled under your breath.

[chiefnooniensingh]

He is all and he is more (a joe/nicky one-shot)

Summary: Joe gets taken. Nicky goes after him. nicky-is-more-protective-headcanon.jpg

Inspired by @joenicky who requested something like this.

Rated: T Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, more testing

Also on: ao3

Joe sat back against the walls of his cell, schooling his expression into a relaxed, unimpressed expression. He felt blood trickle down the side of his face, even though the gash on his temple had healed nearly instantly. Within several years of the entire Merrick debacle, he was right back here again, trapped in a cage, not so much his life in danger as his sanity.

One good thing about this whole mess. Nicky hadn’t been with him for the whole affair, so at least his heart was safe. Joe could withstand anything as long as Nicky was safe.

“Mr. Al-Kaysani!” a voice echoed through his cell, and Joe looked up to see an awfully familiar face.

Joe barely let a grimace pass over his face before flashing his most charming smile. “Dr Kozak, what an unexpected surprise!”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” Dr Kozak smiled. She looked older than she had back then, her blonde hair a little paler, slight worry lines around her eyes. She wasn’t aging well, Joe was pettishly pleased to see.

Joe showed all his teeth, in a move that could barely be called a smile. “A pleasure to have my DNA in your possession again, you mean.”

“Well, in so many words…”

Joe looked straight into her hard, cold face, and knew that she didn’t see him as fully human. To her, he was a Nobel prize, an opportunity. A lab rat. “I can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you, on the other hand,” Joe said matter-of-factly. “The last time we met isn’t the warmest of memories, I have to admit.” He propped his arm up on his knee and looked coolly into the doctor’s face.

“We need you, Mr. Al-Kaysani. The world needs you,” Dr Kozak said, her eyes suddenly glowing maniacally. “Your DNA might hold the key to end death, and suffering.”

“Death, maybe. But trust me, whatever is in my DNA, it won’t end suffering.” Joe gestured with his shackled hands to the blood drying on his face.

Dr. Kozak had the audacity to smile, forgetting that it had been her goons who’d did that (admittedly minor) damage to his face. “That’s what we’re here to find out, Mr. Al-Kaysani. I won’t apologize for scientific progress.”

“You really should study your history more. You’d know you are on the wrong side of it.”

Dr Kozak blanched a little. “Take him,” she ordered, and immediately, Joe’s cell filled with several soldiers and with an eyeroll, Joe let himself be manhandled out of his cell. Just for his own savage pleasure, he headbutted one of the guys in the crotch. The punch he got in the stomach was a fine price to pay.

And then he was back again, in a place he loathed more than anything. A medical chair, strapped to it like a common criminal. He saw Dr. Kozak bring in several intense-looking medical devices and Joe knew it was going to be a long couple of days.

“Take a guy to dinner first, Dr. Kozak,” Joe said, his voice steady, but his flexing fingers betraying his nervousness. He kept his eyes on the instruments, as Dr. Kozak prepped a frighteningly long needle.

“Maybe after I’ve won the Nobel prize, Mr. Al-Kaysani,” Dr. Kozak murmured, right before she stuck the needle torturously slowly in his side. The pain exploded immediately, his entire body seizing up in protest, and he ground his teeth as he tried not to scream. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture Nicky’s face to drown out some of the pain. His nerves screamed as the needle kept sliding deeper into his body. The skin around the needle fought hard to close, increasing the pain. Nicky’s face flickered and faded, and as the pain reached its breaking point, he opened his mouth and screamed.

----

Nicky hadn’t told the others where he was going. He’d contacted Booker without any of their knowledge and asked him to help track down Joe. Dr. Kozak left a blazing trail to follow, and thus was easy to track. It only took Book an hour, an hour which ingratiated himself with Nicky considerably. Nicky was driving the fastest car he’d been able to jack, ignoring any and all speed limits and traffic lights. There was only one thing on his mind, and the world would bend to his will.

Nicky had always been extremely determined. Others would underestimate him for his smaller stature, his unassuming and unthreatening smile, and the fact that Joe always jumped in front of him with his bravery and violence. But harm his love and be prepared to lose everything. When it came to the people he loved, he was prepared to do anything. When it came to Joe, anything became a laughing matter.

Parking the car a street away, he jumped out and pulled out his sports bag. From anyone looking at him, he looked like an average man heading to the gym. But Nicky was heading to battle, his sword tucked underneath his jacket and his bag filled with an assortment of weaponry.

Nicky entered the building which he knew held Dr. Kozak’s new lab and approached the security desk. Without saying a word, he passed through the metal detector, which immediately blasted warnings. Two guards immediately jumped up and approached him both sides, their hands on their holsters. “Sir, put down the bag!” yelled one.

Breathing in and out once, Nicky centred himself. Then, in a flash, faster than the guards could blink, he drew his sword and with two quick swipes, dropped the first guard and pressed the second to the wall. He felt the blood spatter on the side of his face, but barely registered it as he breathed evenly while the other guard panted. “Where is Dr. Kozak?” Nicky asked quietly.

“I don’t…”

“Listen to me very carefully. I have asked a question. I will not ask it again.”

The guard must’ve noticed something in Nicky’s eyes, because he turned very white and stuttered the answer. “D-downstairs. Minus 15th floor. P-please.”

“Much obliged,” Nicky said evenly, before slicing the man’s throat. He would feel guilty about it later. Sheathing his sword, he continued to the elevator, unzipping his bag, and unloading it on the elevator floor. After the doors closed, he pressed the stop button, forced the door open and braced it with his semi-automatic. He restarted the elevator, then picked up his explosives. At ever floor he passed, he pressed two bricks on the outer doors, then pulled his semi-automatic free and shouldered his bag. The elevator dinged, he raised his gun in front of him, and ducked out of the way before the doors opened. When the world didn’t explode in gunfire, he locked the elevator doors in the open position and turned into the room beyond.

It was deserted. With methodical efficiency, Nicky moved through the floor, opening doors, and clearing rooms until he came to the very hand of the hall, where a large, armoured door stood slightly ajar. Nicky smiled a half-smile, but it vanished quickly when a nearly inhuman scream erupted from beyond the door. Nicky knew immediately it was his Joe. His hair stood on end, and his entire being seemed to erupt with hellfire. Swearing under his breath, he rushed forward, opened the door, and went in with his gun raised.

It was an eerily familiar scene. A very sterile, white lab where several medical beds were stationed. Frightening instruments were spread around the lab, and there were already several medical jars with a worrying amount of samples.

Dr. Kozak was bent over one of the medical beds, and Nicky immediately saw his Joe was strapped to it. The screams were unbearable.

“Step away, Dr. Kozak,” Nicky said, his voice scarily steady, his gun trained on the aged doctor. With a start, she jumped backwards, extracting a long device from Joe’s thigh. Without even taking the time to recover, Joe raised his head and let out a throaty laugh when he saw Nicky.

“Ti sei preso il tuo tempo, Nicolo,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Scuci, amore. We are short a tracker, so it took a little longer.”

“Mr. Di Genova,” Dr. Kozak said, her hands raising in the air, Joe’s blood still on her blue gloves. “I was hoping I’d see you again.”

“Nicky!” Joe yelled and Nicky immediately ducked down, narrowly avoiding getting shot in the head, instead taking one in the shoulder. Without hesitating one second, Nicky rolled onto his back and fired his gun at the soldiers storming the lab. It wasn’t a long fight at all. The soldiers hadn’t been well prepared.

“Stai bene?” Joe asked, and Nicky nodded, turning back to Dr. Kozak.

“Untie him,” he ordered. She looked slightly pale, but eyeing the gun trained straight between her eyes, she started to do what he ordered. “Who are you working for this time, doctor?”

Her fingers were shaking as she undid the straps around Joe’s legs. “Humanity,” she said. Both Joe and Nicky scoffed. “You gentlemen have a gift. You are keeping that gift from the world!” Before Joe was fully seated upright, she grabbed a scalpel and pressed it to his throat. “I can’t let you leave!”

Joe looked wholly unimpressed and Nicky loved him all the more in this moment. “For someone who is so focussed on our immortality, you forget awfully quick what immortality means.” And then he grabbed her arm, causing the scalpel to slip and slice a sizable cut into his throat. Nicky closed his eyes, after all this time still unable to watch Joe die. Dr. Kozak screamed when he dropped to the floor and Nicky immediately opened his eyes and put a bullet in her knee, causing her to crumple.

“You could’ve changed the world!” she moaned, as Nicky dropped his empty semi and pulled out his Barretta.

Nicky looked down at her as he trained the gun meticulously at her head. Remembering the big wall in Copley’s house, he smiled a half-smile. “We already do.” And then he fired, ending Dr. Kozak’s life.

Without blinking at what he’d done, he immediately went down on his knees next to Joe. “Yusuf, per favore, destarsi,” Nicky whispered, grabbing his Joe by the should and turning him. With a sigh he noticed that his neck was already healing. “Yusuf, mi amor…”

Joe’s eyes fluttered, and his hand closed around Nicky’s bicep. Nicky let out a breath. “Sono qui,” Joe said, immediately collapsing into a coughing fit. Nicky helped him sit up. They touched their foreheads briefly. “Thank you, Nicky,” Joe said, with a smile as dazzling as the rising sun. Joe was always better at poetry, but watching his face now, Nicky could wax poetic about his Joe’s face for hours. Then his watch beeped. No time.

“Joe, we need to leave. Now.” Without further ado, he pulled Joe to his feet and handed him the Barretta, while he himself yanked a semi from one of the fallen soldiers.

“What did you do?” Joe asked as they quickly and quietly made their way across the floor towards the elevator.

Nicky didn’t answer, instead choosing to drop his bag to the floor and take out one final brick of explosive. Joe burst out laughing. “Holy shit, Nicky!”

Nicky merely flashed a grin, slammed the final brick on the wall next to the elevator door, flicked the stop button and then the elevator started to rise. “We have five minutes after the elevator doors open to get the hell away from this place.”

“Is the team here?”

“No,” Nicky said simply, and he saw Joe frown. “This was between me and Dr. Kozak,” he added with a fierce look in his eye that told Joe all he needed to know. Joe pressed a kiss to Nicky’s temple, which caused Nicky to smile. The elevator neared the ground floor and Nicky checked his watch. “Get ready to run, Joe.”

“As long as you’re right there with me,” Joe said, grabbing Nicky’s hand.

Nicky rolled his eyes affectionately, just as the elevator dinged. “You’re an incurable romantic.”

“It’s why you love me,” Joe said, as the door opened and revealed the two bodies Nicky had left behind. The two of them broke into a run, passing security, causing the metal detector to set off again, but they ignored it and kept running. They didn’t let go of each other until they were at the car, at which point Nicky’s watch beeped for a final time and the ground shook as the explosives inside the building went off. And kept going off. Nicky ignored it completely as he got in the driver’s seat, but Joe looked back in complete awe.

“Joe, get in!” Nicky shouted as he started the car.

Joe got in, a disbelieving smile on his face. “You rigged every floor?”

Nicky threw the car into gear and sped off, a look of complete calm on his face. “We cannot have any of that evidence remain untouched.”

Laughing wildly, letting out the adrenaline of the past few days, he leaned in to kiss Nicky square on the mouth, not caring about traffic and safety. “God, I love you,” he exclaimed, and Nicky laughed too, because it’s all he could do after having seen the love of his life killed in front of him once again and having walked out together once again.

“Next up, explaining this shit to Andy,” Nicky said after a while, startling Joe, who had been dozing off.

Joe grabbed Nicky’s hand, and settled back into the comfortable seat. “Good luck with that, darling.”

Nicky rolled his eyes with a fond smile. “Next time I’ll leave you where you are.”

“Ma certo, Nicolo.”

[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 15 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 1,357

Logan furrows his brow and stares daggers at his computer, willing the trembling stacks of lines and curves to organize themselves into something intelligible. The towers of letters and numbers collapse, as does his head into his hands.

“Hey, spaceman, how much longer you gonna be here?” Roman asks, appearing behind Logan’s chair.

Logan buries his fingernails in his hair, massaging them toward the back of his head and playing with the arms of his glasses. “Ages, probably, and why ‘spaceman?’ Hardly a creative nickname for people working in a minor NASA offshoot. Couldn’t you do any better? It’s not like I’m the only one here wanting to be an astronaut.”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one here that’s so ridiculously dedicated to it. I mean, even Katie-Lee went home already, and she’s pretty much, like, head honcho or something.”

“You say that like I’m a new intern in need of exposition, rather than an employee who’s been well aware of her position for years. And it’s Miss Katie-Lee, which you’ll do well to remember.”

Roman drapes himself over Logan’s shoulder, stretching his arms over his head and blocking Logan’s view of the screen. “I don’t think I’ll be remembering that any time soon, but I suppose this is the part where I thank you for the suggestion.”

“Kindly remove yourself from my person. Unlike some people around here, I actually have important work to do.”

“Seriously? What is it, balancing more equations? Can’t you put that through google or something?”

“Google isn’t going to tell me in a clean five page report the exact moral conflicts related to launching a person into space and knowing their mission will take too long to survive a return trip, much less the mathematics required for them to build a system to get home on its own autopilot to pass along information they acquire at the destination that they can’t give directly from that long of a travel away. That’s not even taking into account the weight we need to factor in for the additional materials, or the mental toll we’ll be forcing on the traveler—we can’t exactly send someone with a terminal illness or someone on death row, since they certainly won’t be in the peak mental or physical condition necessary for the job, and you can get back to me whenever on how we break the news that we only want to give them a salary for the several limited months it’ll take to train them, before they get launched on what everyone knows to be a suicide mission. Everyone will know they’re doomed. Everyone.”

Barely even breathing, Roman slowly straightens. Well, it sounds like he’s barely breathing. Or, er, it doesn’t sound like that. All Logan can say for certain is that there’s an immense ringing in his ears that drowns out pretty much everything else. He drops his head to his desk.

“Are they actually planning a mission like that?”

“They want to be prepared for the unfortunately possible eventuality in which we might have to do that sort of thing. ‘We’ll have to make some sacrifices at one point or another,’ they say, as if I don’t already know that. As if I’m not already painfully aware of that. As if we don’t come into work every day knowing damn well that we’re all working ourselves to an early grave, because there’s virtually no way to expand our extraterrestrial horizons without losing a few lives along the way.” Logan winces at a sharp stab of pain against his temple. Another headache, no doubt.

“Even if it’s only a theoretical hypothetical, they wouldn’t have you working on it if they didn’t think it was a legitimate possibility.” Logan grunts a wordless confirmation at having heard the worry in Roman’s voice, but says nothing. Roman pulls out his phone and starts typing, only eliciting a response from Logan when whatever he’s doing flashes a bright light in Logan’s peripheral vision.

“What are you doing.” It’s not a question. It’s barely even an acknowledgement.

“Texting your husband proof that you need a vacation.”

“I don’t take vacations.”

“Duh, obviously I know that. If you took vacations, maybe you could be gone on an actual honeymoon.”

“Honeymoons are the free market’s way of draining more money from newlyweds who are too high on emotions to realize how much money they’re constantly flushing down the—”

“Yeah, I get it, communism for the win.”

“Socialism.”

“Same difference.”

“Not really.”

“Anyway, just go home and talk to Virgil. You need a vacation, and I told him that’s his new top priority.”

“As if he’d take orders from you.”

“He would if he knew his husband looked like such a hot mess-ra.” Roman flips the phone around, and Logan squints back against the brightness of the picture. Yeah, no, certainly not a pretty sight. Maybe he should start working out more. “Come to think of it, he does know you look like this, since I just sent it to him. So get a move on.”

“But I haven’t finished my—”

“And you won’t finish it if you don’t learn to take breaks between work sprints.”

“But I have a presentation on—”

“I do not care. Go home.” Roman leans forward and punches the power button on Logan’s monitor, clicking the screen into a peaceful abyss of black. “Go home. Please?”

Logan waffles between turning his screen back on (Roman only put it in sleep mode, after all) and slugging him for possibly damaging a solid couple hour’s worth of work, but a surprise third contender takes the lead for his attention. He shrugs his jacket on and rises, plucking a pen from behind his ear and dropping it in his pen cup. Roman gives a sigh of relief, and Logan wonders whether it was that obvious that he wanted to punch him.

“I hope you know how little I—”

“Yeah, yeah, everything sucks and you want to finish your work, I get it. Go home , Mr. Sanders.”

It is of this stern farewell that Logan is reminded as he tugs the front door shut behind him and steps into the apartment.

“You’re home.” Virgil sounds surprised, and Logan wonders exactly how guilty he should feel that Virgil would never expect him home in time for dinner. He also wonders whether this would be a good time to bring up how Virgril is always home, never getting an education or a real job or pursuing any passions, but Virgil never seems to be in the mood for that particular conversation. Logan is starting to suspect they’ll never realize that internal disparity.

Oh, right, he’s supposed to say something now.

“I’m home.” A very clever response, if Logan does say so himself. (He does not.)

“Why are you home so early?”

“Why do you assume I’d be late?”

“Because you’re always late.”

“I am early to every appointment and engagement I schedule.”

“Yeah, and you stay there late, which makes you late when you get to non-work things. Like when you get home late. Again.”

Logan hangs his jacket on the door and nods. “Right. Sorry.” He doesn’t really know what it is that he’s apologizing for, but he certainly isn’t about to admit as much.

“It’s fine.” Virgil’s tone makes it painfully clear that it is not, in fact, ‘fine,’ and Logan has no idea what to do about it. “Roman says you need a vacation.”

“Yes. Well, er, long day, y’know?”

“Right.”

“So I’ll just head off to bed early, then.”

“Sure. Set out some extra clothes, I guess. Maybe we can drive up north to see the leaves changing this weekend if you get out early enough. You probably won’t, but it’s worth a shot.”

Logan bites his tongue and heads into the bedroom. Why did Virgil get so mad about something so inconsequential as unpenalized punctuality? It’s not as if Logan getting home early (well, more like ‘just past on time’) should be seen as a bad thing—Virgil should’ve been happy at the surprise of being able to spend more time together. Maybe Logan should’ve just stayed at work.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Becoming Human - Chapter 25

Previous Chapters:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

_________________________

The moment after they opened the door was bittersweet. I peered inside and saw Leo sitting up, looking extremely like himself.

But it wasn’t good news. He had forgotten some of himself. Doctor Jung had taken me into his office and explained that it had been a success minus his memory error. He still knew who he was, what he worked for at Kboys and that he was a robot. He was able to function in the exact same way as he had before.

Except he had no idea who any of us were.

“I’ll slowly introduce his data into his head but it’ll take time Yerin. You’ll have to be patient with him, with us.”

“Taking the time will mean he’ll ease into the knowledge and remember me, right? I mean, I’ll be mixed all through that data!” I sounded more enthusiastic than I felt. Deep down I was scared.

“Yerin, I can’t make any promises, you know that. We all need to be patient with him.”

For Leo’s sake, they kept him at the office. He resumed light duties after a week of rest, and this seemed to excite him from what I could tell.

I hadn’t really been allowed near him. It was hard to go home to my apartment without his hand in mine, his laughter filling our home as we cooked dinner and how he claimed he would devour all the food he cooked if he could eat it. The nights were long and sleep was difficult when the bed was so cold. Even though he didn’t emit any obvious body heat, it was nicer than rolling into the empty side of his bed and finding nothing to nestle into. The weekends were the worst, miserable and lonesome.

It seemed so funny how I could revert to this behaviour when there were weeks over the several months together that he had been overseas and left me alone then too.

That was different. I knew he would come home then.

I attempted to grasp at all the hope I could muster. On the other side of despair was the determination to improve the situation. I couldn’t bring Leo home if he didn’t know who I was. And how would he learn if I wasn’t there every day? I begged Doctor Jung to let me in after I finished work for an hour every night.

On my first meeting, Leo was full of smiles and it made me believe it would be easy enough to entice his mind to remember me. Our conversations were light and fun and he welcomed me into his room with ease. I left feeling like it wouldn’t take long until he was uttering sweet nothings in my ear as we headed home together.

After a month of this though, Leo was less welcoming, and I was becoming depressed.

“I’m rather busy today, Yerin-noona,” he said as I sat down on his small sofa, his eyes barely focusing on me long enough before he turned back to his computer. “You don’t need to keep visiting me. It seems like it’s not fun for you anymore.”

“It is fun,” I mentioned softly, playing with my lips to distract my mood. “I like being in your company.”

“I’m starting to feel uncomfortable with your visits,” he admitted, his eyes barely looking in my direction.

The tears started to fall then. “I see.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate you, I just don’t understand why you visit me every day. What need do you have with me? I’ve asked the doctor. I know I lack some memories I once had and he’s not prepared to let me know until I start figuring them out myself. Because I don’t have enough information to believe there is a need for us to meet like this, I’d rather we don’t anymore. Besides, it gets dark easily these days, and I worry about the increase in crimes with women at night. I would hate for your visits to put you at any risk. So I would prefer them to end today.”

I didn’t respond, my emotions were too strong for my throat to do anything but choke on the sobs. I got up and left the room, walking right into Jinyoung in the hallway.

He always seemed to hover when I was in the lab, probably because he remembered our training session months ago. He had befriended me easily, and when I was visiting Leo before all of this, he would often joke around with me, or hang out with our group when we would find time to meet up. But lately I felt I was avoiding all that associated with those happier times, him included. Glancing up at him, I merely shook my head. Jinyoung hugged me and then pulled back, his hands resting on my upper arms supportively.

“He doesn’t mean it; he just doesn’t remember you yet noona. You just need to be patient.”

“What would you know, Jinyoung-ah?” Leo asked, coming out of his room and looking between us. His eyes narrowed at the hands on my arms, a dark look threatening from his eyes. I made note of the expression and stopped Jinyoung from shifting back, glancing at the brunette and then back at Leo.

“Can you help me out of the lab Jinyoungie, I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Of course noona, anything I can help you with, I’ll do.” Jinyoung’s hand was on mine, but I soon slipped my hands up his arm, resting into his side and walking away from Leo. As we went to round the corner, I glanced back to see the steely expression still within his eyes.

I knew that look anywhere. He was jealous, he just didn’t know why. It made me realise it wasn’t over yet.

“Noona, you shouldn’t use me to make him jealous,” Jinyoung chided in my ear with a sigh and I glanced up at him apologetically. “I mean, it was a good plan, but you’ll only hurt him and yourself in the process. I have to work with him, what good will it be if he thinks I’m in love with you? He’ll only back off from you further.”

“At least he got jealous,” I mumbled and Jinyoung laughed lightly.

“He’s too clever to fall for any tricks we try. As much as I would like to play into that role with you-” He stopped to grin at me, his eyes crinkling up in delight momentarily. “-We best not be that naughty.”

He was right, and I didn’t want to hurt Jinyoung like I had in the past either. Nodding to myself, I thanked Jinyoung for his help and left the department in a daze.

It wasn’t until I was home that I remembered the stats about being out alone at night feeling like déjà vu at the time. Racking my brain, I connected it to the first night we walked outside together, when I had tripped over when he asked if it was a date. He had said it then too.

The rollercoaster of this journey had dropped me into despair and started the climb back up all in one night. I knew I was grasping at anything because I was desperate to have Leo back, and not once did I want to consider he was long gone.

Perhaps I should have, it would have saved me some heartache.

  Three months passed by and everyone had moved on. The doctors were busy with the new additions to their AI interface, planning a huge event at the headquarters to celebrate the launch. Everyone that worked in the building was hyped about it, and the phones were ringing non-stop, Younha had even put Daniel on calls to help with the demand. Sohyun was busy assisting the events team after work, Doyoung joining her at the meetings that would go over everything they were planning for the launch. Gunhee and Jinyoung were working as a team on something too, and now that Jinyoung lived at Gunhee’s apartment, they were easily wrapped up in their own lab lingo on the rides home from work.

It was just me who had nothing to do. Of course, I was busy answering calls on my shifts, but there was nothing about my life that was different. I woke up, came to work, completed my shift and went home. Every day was the same, and everyone was too busy to notice.

At least, that was how it felt anyway.

I should have known better. They were aware of me nursing my shattered heart, my willpower dispersing the longer time travelled. They didn’t want to offend me with their own happiness, Daniel and Younha had adopted a cat to raise together, Doyoung had told Sohyun he loved her for the first time and meant it, and Gunhee was glad to have an easy connection with Jinyoung who would play games with him without growing bored at all. And I was happy for them too. They deserved to be living out the best days of their existences and I hoped one day, time will have travelled long enough that I could move on too.

I doubted I could actually believe in that, but I had to try.

_________________________

Next chapter

A/N: Goodness, isn’t Jinyoung beautiful? That could have gone very differently but he has some good morals. I hope you’re ready for the final segment in this saga. I know I am SO NOT READY to say goodbye, but I’m excited to see your final thoughts! 

Want to be added to the notified list? Leave a comment or reblog letting me know that you wish to get tagged in the upcoming chapters! Thanks everyone for the continued support!

@cramelot @chanyeolol @annoyingtiger888 @reddragon2 @this-song-thats-only-for-you@tanithrea @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t@babybee05@strwalight@chakkyeonie@chellolaa@tkwoonnie @squeallyeel22

Becoming Human Masterlist | Fiction Masterlist | Request Guidelines

[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 15

After like 6 months I’m back! Sorry about the wait you guys, but I put out three PBB fics in that period, wrote two new chapters for this fic, and balanced my own crazy life. Thank you for your patience, updates will resume normally! Enjoy!

Tags for chapter: fluff, vvv minor angst

Words for chapter: ~2.7

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan stepped through the front doors into the lobby. It was small and had basic furniture that looked as if it had come from the same dull color scheme, but Dan didn't really mind. He wouldn't be here very long.

A tired secretary looked up at him as he entered, but when Dan settled in one of the seats in front of the television, she looked back down at her paperwork, a frown still on her face.

Dan looked up at the TV and smiled wide. It was on the same channel that the weather station aired, and on it Phil was grinning and relaying the temperatures for the day and how the sun for once would be shining for most of the afternoon.

Dan sat and watched the whole time Phil was on, a goofy smile on his face. When the angle switched to the news anchors, Dan's attention drifted to his phone, where he scrolled through twitter for a little. Now that Phil wasn't on the live broadcast he'd be in a separate room, recording a few different takes of a handful of different weather broadcasts that the station could air later in the day, depending on which of their predictions were correct. And since Phil was here as an employee and not an intern today, as soon as he was done, they could leave.

They'd been dating for a few weeks at this point, and with Dan's workaholic schedule and Phil's two jobs, most time between them had been lunch breaks and an impromptu sleepover, or a few hours together of kissing and movies and video games before reality once again rained on their parade. Today however, Dan was off due to the shop being closed so it could get some of its appliances replaced, and Phil had his whole day off as well minus his morning broadcast. They were planning on spending it together and to shop and wander around Manchester as it rapidly neared the holiday season.

Dan thought that a day just for the two of them was long overdue.

A few people came and went while Dan was sitting there, and he eventually stopped looking up so hopefully since every time he only got a stranger returning his excitement with a look of bewilderment at Dan's gaze. And besides, had he gotten a little caught up in scrolling through the various threads? Maybe. Had he gotten comfortable in his seat and popped his earbuds in? Possibly. Did Phil ever give him a ball-park time as to when he would be done? No. So he really had no business materializing out of nowhere and hooking a finger under Dan's chin, tilting his head up and kissing him in greeting. Dan's legs just went jelly even though he wasn't standing, and his thoughts flatlined.

"Uh," Dan said eloquently when Phil pulled back. Phil laughed and helped Dan up.

"Hello to you too. I'm all done by the way—are you ready to get out of here? I distinctly remember planning a whole day together with my boyfriend."

Dan managed something between a breathy "yeah" and "of course" and let Phil grab his hand, leading him outside dumbly, still overwhelmed with how easily this cliche bastard could knock all of the breath out of his lungs. He simultaneously hoped that he would eventually get used to it—becoming a stuttering mess was highly inconvenient at times—and also never wanted that feeling of devotion to go away.

The sun was surprisingly warm for early December, and the sky was clearer than Dan had seen it in an awfully long time. Topped with all of the Christmas decorations around and nestled into Phil's side, their hands threaded, Dan really couldn't imagine a better way of spending his day off.

Their first stop was Starbucks—a Dan and Phil tradition. They'd gone to a Starbucks for their first "date" on one of Dan's lunch breaks, and ever since, they'd hit it a half a dozen times together in the several weeks of their relationship.

Phil ordered while Dan snagged them a table in the corner. He returned however, with a horrendous amount of foam on his coffee and a simple protest of "it's flavored leave me alone." Phil then proceeded to take a huge sip, leaving a hefty foam mustache on his upper lip. Dan laughed hysterically and couldn't help but snap a picture of Phil's adorable pout, sending it to Jaime after saving it to his phone. He was surprised when his phone beeped almost right away. She was down in London today working on the play, and it was too early for her to be on her lunch break already.

>> From: my maraschino cherry look at you two and ur coffee dates ur sickening

also

how much foam did he ask for that man is living in a world w/o god

>> To: my maraschino cherry too much. the answer is too much

"Is that Jaime? You two aren't conspiring against me again, are you?"

Dan snorted and took a sip of his own coffee (with a normal amount of foam, thank you very much).

"If you count conspiring as us dragging you for the sheer amount of foam on that coffee, then yes, absolutely."

"Hey! Unlike you, I refuse to be subjected to society's standards as to what is acceptable with coffee. Besides, what do you know? My coffee is fantastic."

"Some lines just shouldn't be crossed, mate, and a gallon of foam is one of them. And you're forgetting—I literally make coffee for a living. I think I have the right to judge." Dan said, rolling his eyes in the fondest way possible. Phil grumbled as if he was annoyed, but Dan could tell that he didn't really mean it.

Dan leaned back against the chair and watched Phil as he used the front camera on his phone to make sure he wiped away all of the foam from the top of his lip. Was that creepy? Maybe. But Dan just couldn't keep his eyes off of Phil, as cliche as it was. Phil was just Phil—Dan couldn't ignore him if he tried.

"What, did I miss some of it?" Phil asked, already pulling his phone back out of his pocket. Dan grabbed his hand to stop the movement.

"No, you spork, you didn't." Dan said softly.

Phil's face brightened and a sly smile spread across his face. "So," he drawled, "whatcha looking at then?"

Dan let his thumb flitter over the tops of Phil's knuckles before answering.

"A dork."

"Hey!"

Dan cackled as Phil crossed his arms and pouted. He started whining about how Dan was being a "terrible boyfriend" and "first the foam now this," and he was being so ridiculous that Dan only laughed harder. Phil just kept going though, and Dan tried to shush him in between giggles, but to no avail.

What an absolute fucking nerd, Dan thought as he gave up trying to stop Phil with words and instead pulled him forward into a kiss. Dan was still trying to control his laughter so he wasn't even really kissing properly and pretty much just smiling against Phil's mouth, but it worked perfectly. Phil shut up instantly and kissed back. His arm snaked around Dan's waist loosely, but it still sent a tingle up Dan's spine anyways.

Dan pulled back a little, his cheeks aching from laughing. "Hey."

"No no, come back here." Phil dragged Dan right back to his side, and this time the kiss was a proper one. When Phil let go of him Dan knew his cheeks were dusted pink, and in his own opinion the blush probably matched the warm feeling in his chest.

Phil hummed, smiling softly down at Dan. "Cute."

Dan rolled his eyes, but they both knew that didn't mean anything.

After they finished their coffees, they wandered out into the city. Earlier in the week they had planned out all of the stores they had wanted to visit, but things ended up taking longer than expected because they couldn't stop themselves from walking into every building that had something that caught their eye. With all of the extra stops, the shopping trip had to be split in half by lunch. Dan didn't mind though. A nice lunch in a little corner cafe with Phil was a pleasant and welcomed surprise.

Dan found his Christmas present for Jaime, and nearly bought one for Phil as well. The only thing that stopped Dan from buying the galaxy jumper was the fact that it was about twice as much as Dan's already small and strained budget.

It was nearing the evening when they stepped through the threshold of Phil's apartment. The day had been incredibly fun, and Dan didn't even mind that he was tired from all of the walking that they had done, or that the tip of his nose was near froze from the cold air.

Dan dropped the bags in his hands down onto the floor next to Phil's. He reached back up for the zipper on his coat, but Phil's hands batted it out of the way. Surprised, Dan raised an eyebrow at Phil, but it went unaddressed by the older man. Phil slipped the coat from Dan's shoulders and hung it up.

"Why don't you go pick out a movie, Dan? I'm in a bit of a mood for popcorn and snuggling under a blanket."

He retreated back to the lounge, the faint blush on his cheeks from Phil taking his coat off for him dissipating. It had been domestic and Dan enjoyed being taken care of, shoot him.

Dan settled on a bit of a classic and popped it into the DVD player. Behind him he could hear Phil starting the microwave, and even though they had ate not that long ago, Dan's stomach grumbled at the smell of the butter. Dan pulled one of the many blankets Phil had off of the back of the couch and wrapped it around him. He left half of it off to the side for Phil.

"You can start it! I'll be right in."

The opening credits of The Shawshank Redemption had finished playing by the time Phil surfaced, but it was with a large bowl of popcorn and accompanying sweets, which made up for lost cuddle time in Dan's mind.

A few moments later Phil was settled under the blanket, pressed next to Dan. The snacks were in a pile on their laps, and they frequently snuck a hand out from under the blanket to munch on them.

The movie was one of Dan's favorites, and he decided that watching it with Phil's body curled around his, tucked away in their little corner of the world, made it even better.

Phil had also never seen the movie before, and Dan had brought his own copy of it over ages ago with the intention of watching it. Unfortunately, they had never gotten the chance to until now, but it was hardly an issue. Dan enjoyed Phil's gasps of surprise, and his frantic panic towards the end of the movie when things were hitting the climax. When the screen faded to the end credits, Phil's jaw was dropped, shock on his face.

"I'll take it you enjoyed it?" Dan asked, a smiling. Phil stared at the television for another moment before snapping to attention.

"Like it? Dan, that was one of the coolest movies I've ever seen. And it's based off of a book, you said? God, I need to read it, oh my gosh." Phil continued rambling about his favorite parts, and he talked about his thought process through the movie. "I swear I thought Andy was guilty! But then he got some proof that he wasn’t, and they shot the guy!"

"Yep. Really makes you think, huh?"

Phil laughed.

"Yeah, it does."

Dan smiled, happy that Phil had enjoyed something that Dan loved. He pecked Phil's lips with his own before mustering the willpower to scoot out of their little blanket cocoon.

"Can you take it out of the DVD player? I'll take care of our scraps."

Phil was still smiling softly at him, and the look was making Dan's insides feel all warm and gooey. Not that long ago that would have terrified him, but now it just made Dan's grin go wider.

He quickly washed the bowl to get the butter off of the sides and put it back in Phil's cabinet. Before he left he shut the rest of Phil's cabinet doors, rolling his eyes. Phil could look at a bunch of nonsense numbers and measurements and predict the weather, but the man couldn't bother himself to close a cabinet door.

Dan walked back into the lounge, ready to tease Phil about it, but stopped when he found him standing next to the couch, reading something on his phone. His eyebrows were crinkled and the corners of his mouth were turned down in something between a frown and a grimace. The expression caused the joke on Dan's lips to wither, and for a moment Dan just stood there, watching Phil. He didn't seem to know that Dan was back in the room.

"Is everything alright?"

Phil jumped at Dan's voice shattering the silence, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. The small smile plastered on Phil's face was fake, and Dan could tell that Phil was trying to figure out what to say.

"Yeah, it's just an email from work."

"Tesco emailed you?"

"No, the weatherstation."

"Oh." Dan didn't know if he should keep pushing, but when he thought about the frown on Phil's face just a little bit ago and how his shoulders were curled in anxiety, Dan's resolution hardened. He knew first hand what something negative could do if it was allowed to fester, and he didn't want that to happen to Phil. "Was it something bad?"

"No, not really." Phil said, his fingers sliding into his pockets. Dan couldn't help but frown at that. Phil stuck his hands in his pockets when he was uncomfortable. Was Dan making him feel like that? "My schedule just got changed up a bit. I'm going to have to ring Tesco to have them adjust my shifts so none of them overlap."

Dan nodded, but there was no doubt in his mind that Phil wasn't telling the truth. Another glance at Phil's hands in his pockets held back Dan's tongue, however. He didn't want to make Phil uncomfortable or anxious.

Dan decided to drop the subject, but he didn't let his suspicions fall.

"Did you want to call them now? I can step back into the kitchen if you want?"

"No!" Phil said, his arms flinching like he wanted to move them, but decided not to at the last minute. "It's fine, I promise. I'll call them in the morning—I don't think anybody would pick up, anyways. Come on, it's my turn to pick a movie."

Phil gave Dan one last strained smile before turning all of his attention to the shelf of movies he owned. Dan was still frowning, worried about what had really been on Phil's phone, and even more worried about Phil, but he didn't say anything. Dan didn't think that Phil really looked at the selection and more-or-less just popped a random disc into the DVD player. After pressing play, Phil caught Dan's wrists and pulled him to the sofa. They settled back under the blanket, but this time Phil was holding Dan against his chest, his arms wrapped around Dan to keep him close. He pressed a soft kiss to Dan's temple.

"Relax, everything's fine, I promise."

It didn't do much to ease Dan's thoughts, but he did relax his body, as well as tuck his worried thoughts away to deal with later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy this time with Phil.

[365-money-diary]

DAYS 50 - 56

DAY FIFTY

6:25 AM - Up an at ‘em. It’s vaccine day! The State Farm Stadium is 30 minutes away from my house and I kind of have a history of feeling light-headed and such so I eat a piece of toast before we leave. Prep our water bottles and coffee in our respective hydroflasks and we’re out the door.

7:25 AM - We arrive to the stadium and go through a slew of checkpoints. Unfortunately because of the storms they aren’t giving out plus ones today so we will try for K again when I get my second. The process is pretty easy and we are out of there in 30 minutes. I get the Pfizer vaccine. :) 

8:30 AM - K and I take a walk since I still have some time before work starts. 

10:00 AM - Today is going to be super easy workwise so I just kind of take my time easing into it. I start to feel some tingles from the shot as well as arm soreness. Nothing I can’t handle though! 

12:00 PM - Annual charge for my recipe plugin comes through for my blog. Heat up broccoli fried rice for lunch. $49.00

2:00 PM - My arm is starting to hurt but nothing I can’t handle. Eat pretzels.

4:00 PM - Ditch work early to take a walk to the lake. Bring wine in a hydroflask to just sit and enjoy the weather. I chat with T on the way and then FaceTime with H who says he’s moving to Philly. Super bummed honestly. DJing with him is one of my favorite things on this planet.

6:00 PM - Arrive home to find a sleepy K. My arm is really hurting at this point and we decide to take a nap.

7:30 PM - Wake up feeling groggy and in pain. Remember they advised drinking water before taking Tylenol so I down 48 ounces and actually start to feel better. Heat up a Big Sur Breakfast burrito for dinner and K and I watch the first 30 minutes of Uncut Gems. K’s brother hits him up to play RocketLeague and so he breaks away to that and I watch more of The Challenge.

11:30 PM - I am tired of being awake and would just rather be asleep.

DAY FIFTY TOTAL: $49.00

DAY FIFTY-ONE

8:30 AM - Wake up feeling like my body has been doing work to fight something, but without any external symptoms (fever, chills, fatigue) minus my sore arm. Continue hydrating and make a chemex.

9:00 AM - I can’t really work on the trim today as planned because of my arm, so I decide to work on my blog instead. 

11:00 AM - Make pancakes and hashbrowns for breakfast.

2:30 PM - Post a recipe for Greek Salad. The Internet seems to be receptive which is nice… my last few recipes have flopped. Finish The Ruins. Actually bummed Sara & KellyAnne didn’t win. Evan, Kenny, and Johnny suck and needs to rot in hell. Make a giant bowl of popcorn.

5:00 PM - Drop off a ball and a tube to a friend who is starting to take Pure Barre classes again. Walk back and then K and I walk to the lake with the dog. Feels like the best thing we’ve done all day tbh. My arm still hurts too much to exercise so this is the best it’s gonna get.

7:45 PM - Arrive home and roast potatoes for buffalo chicken sandwiches. I’ll definitely be shooting this for the blog.

8:00 PM - It’s one of those nights where I already did everything and I’m tired of screens. I reached out to a friend a few days ago for book recs and I pick one from the list called The Guest List. Buy it on kindle. $16.40

9:30 PM - I’m already ready to start a new season of The Challenge. This one is Fresh Meat II. Can’t believe Darrell gets eliminated on the first episode. Dang.

10:45 PM - K and I decide we’re tired and that it’s time for beddie. My body is definitely ready for sleep. 

DAY FIFTY-ONE TOTAL: $16.40

DAY FIFTY-TWO

8:30 AM - Wake up feeling pretty rested. Definitely a lot better today. Arm is mildly sore. Might be able to ride the bike or play DDR today. Maybe modify Pure Barre but probably not. Take a shower for the first time since Thursday because I usually shower after I exercise and that hasn’t happened in a while… hah.

9:00 AM - My kettle has been here for a few days but I haven’t broken it out of the shed yet. Unbox the beauty, give it a little rinse and make my first cup of coffee. I like how quiet it is and how little space it takes up. 10/10.

10:15 AM - I notice I still have a half block of tofu leftover so I make tofu/egg tacos for breakfast with Field Roast Sausage, mushrooms, onions, and jalapenos.

11:15 AM - Clean the kitchen and prep for shooting. I am feelin’ the vibes from my last post so I don’t want to lose motivation. Make miso butter pasta since it’s really all I can swing with the ingredients in my pantry. 

1:15 PM - Finish shooting and import the photos into my library while watching The Challenge in the background. Decide might as well start editing. I don’t have much else going on and I’m again, feeling motivated.

4:30 PM - K goes on a drive and I decide to play DDR. My arm is not ready for barre but it can dangle a bit while I stomp on some arrows. I decide I really want to learn Afronova on heavy which is something I never was really able to pass consistently in my youth. It’ll be a good thing to work toward over the next few weeks.

5:30 PM - Pour a glass of wine and hop on zoom with K’s family. It’s nice to see them.

7:30 PM - Make buffalo chicken sandwiches for dinner with potatoes.

9:00 PM - Walk to the lake with K. 

12:00 AM - Finish my entire post for miso butter noodles. I don’t think I’ve ever shot and posted something in the same day. Exhausting! Hah

DAY FIFTY-TWO TOTAL: $0

DAY FIFTY-THREE

8:00 AM - Pure barre charge. Make a chemex. And eat half a bagel with earth balance and nooch for breakfast. Also get charged for my automatic payment to Amazon for iron pills $27.93

9:00 AM - Today is my officemate’s birthday. My boss and I pitched in to get her a Lululemon gift card. $35

12:00 PM - Leftover miso butter noodles for lunch with air-fried broccoli.

5:00 PM - Today was honestly exhausting but I am ready to move. Play a few games of DDR and then do a barre class. 

7:00 PM - Rinse off and make the last of the buffalo chicken sandwiches. We’re very excited for groceries tomorrow hah.

9:30 PM - Buy a phone tripod. I suck at doing videos one-handed and I know I can grow my pages like bananas if I can actually shoot the content correctly. I apply the gift card my boss got me for building her website so this is on the house. 

DAY FIFTY-THREE TOTAL: $62.93

DAY FIFTY-FOUR

7:00 PM - Long ass day. Groceries are slated to arrive. Incoming of bell peppers, tomatoes, grapes, tofu, cucumber, broccoli, red onion, limes, lemons, bananas, jalapenos, serranos, clementines, bread, chickpeas, tortilla chips, tortillas, sprouts, potatoes, baby carrots, onions, salsa, cauliflower rice, cilantro, gf mini pretzels, apples, hashbrowns, oat milk, cheese, vegan cheese, brown rice, white rice, gf pasta, spring mix, romaine, tomato paste, dark chocolate, red wine and balsamic vinegar, pineapple, scallions, oregano, shallots, mushrooms, orzo, kale, chipotle peppers, eggs, brown sugar, burger buns, corn, parsley, veggie straws, vanilla bean, asparagus, snap peas, a pound of coffee, plant sausage, plant yogurt, zucchini, radish, cabbage, seltzer, plant yogurt, pasta sauce, plant pizza, jelly, and mustard. $350.86

8:00 PM - Eat red lentil pasta for dinner.

DAY FIFTY-FOUR TOTAL: $350.86

DAY FIFTY-FIVE

1:00 PM - Done with meetings for the day. My brain hurts. Hah make salad (bbq chicken, spring mix, carrots, bell pepper, onion, corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, and ranch is the combo for the week), drink seltzer, tryyyy to calm down. 

3:40 PM - Actually hoping no one bothers me for the rest of the day. Change into workout clothes and sneak in my last barre class for the challenge. 

6:00 PM - Get charged for CBS all access. Craving a cocktail instead of wine. Pick some grapefruits from the backyard, text J to ask how to salt a rim, then make a grapefruit + mezcal drink with a chili-lime salted rim. YUM.  $6.48

7:00 PM - Veggie sandwiches with potatoes is the name of dinner for the next few days. So good!

DAY FIFTY-FIVE TOTAL: $6.48

DAY FIFTY-SIX

8:30 AM - Make a chemex and “get to work.” Today is super slow. I finish the last of my outstanding tasks, make 2 batches of chex mix which I regret because K says he won’t be eating any since he’s trying to avoid salt. Snack on that and then make salad for lunch.

1:30 PM - Literally no one has pinged me so I take the opportunity to play some DDR. I play for nearly an hour before anyone bothers me and nail down the steps to this one section of Afronova at ⅕ the speed. I’ll try ⅖ tomorrow! 

5:30 PM - K and I are both starving so I make us dinner early today. Drink a grapefruit + mezcal cocktail after din.

8:30 PM - K asks if I’ll walk to the lake with him and the dog. I kind of don’t want to since I played my heart out already but he asks pleeeassse and I oblige. The walk is really really nice. We even sit near the waterfront for a while watching people do this cheesy skate routine. 

10:30 PM - Make it back. I work on my blog in K’s office while he edits video stuff. I have The Challenge on in the background and finish Fresh Meat II. Only 11 more seasons before I can cancel my membership! Hah.

DAY FIFTY-SIX TOTAL: $0

[waitinginthedarke]

BIGBANG - MAFIA!AU - SERIES 3

A BIGBANG FANFICTION

Summary: The saying goes, ‘the mafia is family, the mafia is home’…but even if ‘the mafia is home’…is it really the right place to raise a child?

A/N: For those that aren’t enjoying the beauty that is Eurovision, here is Chapter two of mafia! :D

Masterlist (including series one and two)

Chapter 3

‘Whats the matter?’

His voice echoes into the darkness as you stare blindly in front of you, your mind stuttering over your thoughts with the sudden interruption, before you process that you needed to answer him.

‘…Nothing…’

‘We got into bed 2 hours ago but you still haven’t fallen asleep…somethings bothering you. Tell me.’

You sigh as you shift onto your back, turning your head to the side to look at Jiyong where he’d been spooning you, the dark circles under his closed eyes making you frown in concern as you reach over to stroke them gently, and the action causes him to peel his eyelids back to look at you, his eyes slightly bloodshot as they focus on your face.

‘Ji?’

‘Mmmh?’ he murmurs in response as he closes his eyes again, simply resting them as he waits for you to tell him what was wrong.

‘What will you do when they find the child?’

The nervous question is met by a few seconds of silence as Jiyong tries to work out why you were thinking about that, having assumed your concern would be to do with the information you’d relayed to him about Seunghyun and Kyungil when you’d returned home, and being taken aback by the topic of the missing infant.

‘I haven’t decided yet.’ He finally murmurs, his hand that was lay on your stomach rubbing gently to calm your obvious stress about the matter, but you reach up to hold it still, the movement causing him to open his eyes to see your concerned expression, a frown beginning to crease his face.

‘Jagi, why are you so worked up over the child-‘

‘Don’t kill him.’

‘Y/N!’ he snaps, leaning up on his elbow to look down at you indignantly as you glance at him worriedly.

‘Jiyong, please-‘

‘Why the hell would you think I’d kill him, Jagi? My God. Do you really think I’d do something like that?’ he asks, his voice tinted with an edge of hurt, and you sigh as you break his gaze, shaking your head timidly as you turn into his chest and duck your head beneath his chin, feeling him lay back with you and automatically cradle you in his arms as he waits for you to respond.

‘Ji, its not that…I-…Aish, its not anything to do with the child, really…-‘

‘Is this about me wanting a child?’ he murmurs, the words perfectly soft as he tries not to frighten you away, but the second he cottons onto your train of thought, you instinctively tense up, on edge as you try to hide what you were thinking from him, not wanting him to see how much the topic scared you.

‘Y/N, I told you, we don’t have to talk about it until your ready-‘ he goes to reassure you gently, but that’s before you cut him off.

‘But what if im never ready, Ji?’ you breathe, your fear getting the better of you as you cower against his chest, too scared to look up at his reaction to you snatching away the dream he had.

‘…Then we never talk about it.’

His answer surprises you enough to have you slowly raising your head to look up at him, seeing him reverted to having his eyes closed, and you frown as you touch his cheek to make him look at you, needing to see if his words were sincere or not, after all the worrying you’d done over the pressure you felt to give him a child.

‘But…you sounded like you really needed one-‘

‘I would like a child…I wont deny that. …but you’re the one thing in this world that I want more than anything else. …you’ll always come first, Jagi,… before anything else.’ He murmurs, holding your gaze the entire time he speaks and smiling softly at you when he trails off, his thumb suddenly smoothing over your cheek causing you to realize you’d shed some tears, and you quickly blink to rid your eyes of the bleariness, before nuzzling back into him, pressing a kiss to his neck as you curl into him, feeling more relaxed now that you knew where you stood on the subject.

‘I love you.’ You say quietly, your arm wrapping under his and around his shoulder as you lay your cheek comfortably against his warm, bare, chest, and you feel him make himself comfortable as he clutches you securely in his hold, and dots a kiss to your hair, staring blindly over your head as he finds himself getting lost in his thoughts, stroking his hand against your hair to get you to sleep.

‘I know, Jagi. …I love you too.’

SEUNGHYUN

He’d left Kyungil without any further information as to his plan to get him out after Daesung had taken over his shift, telling the younger man he was going for a smoke, before leaving the barn and pausing to light a cigarette. Although rather than remaining outside the rickety wooden building, he traps the cigarette between a join in the splintering fence that ran the perimeter of the building, scanning the area, before heading swiftly for the mansion, greeting people normally as he went. The only thing he was really keeping an eye out for was any signs of Jiyong, Y/N, or the other two members of the gang, knowing that if he got caught doing what he was about to do, there would be no way to save his plan from crumbling into dust.

Using his signature silent walk, he ghosts through the front doors and up the grand staircase without meeting anyone, only becoming extremely cautious when he is forced to avoid the eye of the cctv camera’s, but even then, smirking to himself as he walks through the corridors unseen, having snatched the master control from beneath Jiyong’s nose when he’d called him to the office earlier to describe his encounter with the child.

The child…

Ever since he’d watched him run out of the training room and into the forest he’d kept alert for any sign of the terrified creature, knowing as well as anyone else that natural instinct would have kept him close by the mansion, his apparent ease of access to the one building allowing him shelter where there wasn’t any other for miles around. But the one thing that had continued to bother him was where he’d come from in the first place, the boy’s appearance hitting too close to home for Seunghyun…

He enters the office without trouble, not being stupid enough to relax as he disables the manual camera’s in the room before stalking over to the safe room in the corner behind the main desk, keying in Seungri’s entry code that he’d had memorized since the boy first came to work for the gang, and entering slowly to scan his surroundings.

There was the cabinet.

Despite the filing system’s high-tech appearance, there was only a spin dial to secure the information on the entire population of the gang- minus Jiyong- the flimsy deal of privacy never particularly irritating Seunghyun since he himself had hardly any information under his name, and as he pulled out the leaf of paper printed with his name, and trailed his eye over the document that contained his information, he couldn’t help but reminisce…

…on how he came to be there….

12 years ago

‘Jiyong! Your father wants to talk to you now! You cant run away forever!’

He heard the distant shouts of the men minutes after he’d clocked on to the young boy scrambling through the underbrush, his view from the tree in which he’d set up camp allowing him to see everything that went on below, whilst no one even glanced up at him.

He appeared desperate, his pants being audible even from Seunghyun’s vantage point, which meant if the men chasing him got any closer, he’d most definitely be discovered.

Well, that was his fault.

Seunghyun had been in the game ever since he could remember, jumping from relative’s house to relative’s house, never really knowing where he’d come from, and simply being told his parents had died when he was born. However, it wasn’t until he got to the age of 15 and decided he’d had enough of the beatings and the abuse over his inability to do well in school and his orphan status, that he’d made his great escape into the world on his own, and he’d never looked back since that moment over a year ago. He had a few run ins with various gangs, usually making a quick exit after looting some gear, and then honing his sniping skills as he’d left them a man or two down, before disappearing from beneath their very noses.

However, despite the rule he lived by, in which he only cared for himself and no one else, Seunghyun still found himself tracking the boy’s movements, or more specifically the movements of the men tracking him.

‘You’re going to have to run faster, Kid.’ He murmurs to himself, his eagle-eyed vision honing in on the men behind him, and he instinctively reaches for the gun he always kept in a holster on his hip when he sees them gain ground, gritting his teeth when he realizes what he’d done and battling with himself as he sees the fear, mixed with deadly determination on the boy’s face as he glances back, moving with a renewed sense of strength once he sees how close the men had got.

But at that point Seunghyun’s need to protect had already began to kick in.

Reaching for the shock bullets he’d snagged from a gang a few weeks back, the group of men having been taken off guard by a teenage boy being in their midst, and therefore leaving a chance for Seunghyun to loot their stash, he instantly switches the cartridges in his gun and repositions himself in the tree so that he could find a clear line of sight through which to take the angry sounding men out.

The first drops like a fly, the guy being at the back of the group meaning the sound of his body falling to the floor only attracts the attention of one of the other men, who before he could properly investigate what had happened, also gets hit by a shock bullet, and the immediate collapse of his body allows Seunghyun to admire his improved targeting ability. However as soon as he takes out number 3 of the 5 men, the first two instantly cotton on to an attack happening against their group, and without hesitation they raise their guns to scan the area, one of the two being smart enough to raise it toward the tree tops; he’s the one that becomes number 4.

It would only be a year later that Seunghyun would learn that he should have hid then, and let the young boy run to a hiding place, but instead in his youthful cockiness, Seunghyun decides to aim at the final man.

Just as a real bullet comes zooming toward him.

‘AH, SHIT!’

‘Stupid little bastard. Where the hell did he snag a gun from?’ he hears the guy murmur below as he instantly makes for the tree Seunghyun was hiding in, his heart thundering in his hears the sound of boots scraping through leaves and then the dull shaking of the tree beneath him indicating that he was actually climbing up, and despite clutching his arm desperately in an attempt to stop the blood flow from the sharp graze the bullet had engraved on his upper arm, Seunghyun still scrambles back quickly. He grabs his gun and holds it ready when he realizes he wasn’t going to have time to escape, keeping tabs on the guy as his body swayed between the lattice of branches and leaves below, a sudden fear rising within him when he realizes he might not actually make it out of this one.

But its just as he starts to squeeze the trigger in desperation, hearing the harsh pants of the guy where he was almost up to the same level of Seunghyun, that a shout from below causes all movement to stop.

‘Hyung! …Im here!’

He couldn’t breathe where his heart was in his mouth, the silence that took over the space only being filled by the other guy’s heavy breathing where he’d paused in confusion to look down at the other boy below, his line of sight being just below where Seunghyun was.

‘Jiyong? What the hell are you doing down there? I thought-‘

‘I fell. …Hyung…I-‘

‘Don’t say anything else. Your father is going to be furious when he hears about this.’ The guy mutters as he begins to retreat, sliding easily down the tree in his descent, and despite the fact that he was completely hidden from view then, Seunghyun could only stare wide eyed in front of him, taking shallow breathes and continuing to clutch his arm desperately as he listened to the two below, begging them to leave as his lungs began to burn and blood began to seep from between his fingers.

‘God. I thought I shot you, Jiyong! Where the hell did you get a gun anyway? -where is it? Give it to me.’

‘I-I dropped it-‘

‘Jesus. You look like you’ve been run over. Damnit your father’s going to kill me. Why couldn’t you have just gone to see him? It wouldn’t even have been that bad…’

The voices trail off after a minute or two, but Seunghyun refuses to move until the sounds of nature had resumed their song, the birds and insect’s knowledge of a safe surrounding being confirmation enough that he was safe-

-for now…

It was 3 days later that he heard from Jiyong again.

He’d been out scavenging for food, having crept down to a well populated drinking hole where he usually saw boars drinking, and had been about to settle in to wait out the moment that a wild pig would visit again. But just as he’d laid down amongst the garlic leaves and the overgrown grass, trees crowding in around him, he’d heard a twig break from the pressure of a footfall, and immediately his instincts kicked in as he clutches his gun.

‘Don’t shoot. …I just came to talk.’

As soon as it clicks in his mind that he’d heard the voice several days before, and he makes the connection with the youthful face that had been sprinting for his life through the underbrush, Seunghyun sighs in frustration at the obviously lost chance to catch the boar, springing quickly to his feet as he removes the catch from his rifle, and turning toward the sound of the voice as he rests it back over his shoulder and inspects the boy before him.

‘I don’t do talking.’ Is all he responds, before going to walk in the opposite direction, but the boy makes the stupid decision to grab for Seunghyun’s hand, and if there was one thing that Seunghyun didn’t tolerate, it was people touching him without his permission.

Before the boy could blink, he spins toward him and forces him to his knees, locking him in a choke hold and being about to put pressure on his windpipe-

-when something happens that Seunghyun didn’t anticipate.

He hadn’t braced his knees in time to secure the hold, and so before he could even respond to the movement, Seunghyun found himself toppling backwards, his spine crashing to the floor harshly, before he’s twisted to lie on his front and he feels his arms about to be locked behind his back. However, by this point the teenage boy had cottoned onto the fact that Jiyong wasn’t a normal boy, and so without hesitation he’s pulling out his best movements to turn the tables, quickly kicking the other boy away before flipping onto his back and landing in an anticipatory crouch.

…only to be met by another man having appeared beside the young boy where he stood before him.

‘You were right, Jiyong. He’s amazing-‘

‘What is this?’ Seunghyun immediately demands, looking between the man and the boy, his spine stiffening when he tunes into the sounds around him and hears the distant movement of people hiding in the trees, his immediate reaction being to instantly grab for his gun.

‘Wait! We don’t want to hurt you! ..We want you to join us.’ Jiyong quickly explains, holding his hands out as though Seunghyun were a frightened animal that would bolt at any minute, before slowly taking a few steps toward him.

‘The other day…you tried to save me.’ He says quietly when he comes to stand before the taller boy, doe like eyes staring up in awe at the handsome features that stood out starkly, despite being cushioned by youthful chub, and Seunghyun thinks to himself that he might have accidentally saved someone crazy.

‘I’ve been watching you for the past couple of days; you don’t have a home, you never go toward the city…you’re alone…-‘

‘-…I want to save you now.’

Seunghyun chuckles as he remembers what had happened after that, the way he’d stared at the younger boy as though he were insane, gifting him with a sharp right hook before darting free from the clearing through the heard of boar that had silently appeared by the watering hole behind him, the animals providing a good cover for his getaway, and the angry shouts of the men that had been hiding made him cackle loudly as he’d disappeared into the forest, amused by the very idea that someone thought they could save him.

Although, looking down at his file (or the flimsy piece of paper that encapsulated who he was by the gang’s standards) he couldn’t help but smile at the date printed on the page, reading one year after he’d first met Jiyong, and had decided to accept his offer.

Or…rather…he’d found himself in a bit of trouble that involved another gang, and had managed to track Jiyong down in his desperate search for help, the boy’s father immediately agreeing on the condition that Seunghyun joined the gang, and trained along side the younger boy.

What he hadn’t known then, was at that moment in time Jiyong had been gearing up to take over as the head of his father’s mafia, and so Seunghyun found himself unwittingly becoming the boys right hand man, the two doing everything together. It was as he remembered the day Jiyong had superseded his father, that he remembered the memories he’d blocked out of how Jiyong’s sister used to dote on him; the one night she’d kissed him and he’d rejected her instantly, too afraid of the feelings that the action provoked in him, and therefore vowing never to speak of it again- which after a year or so she’d forgotten about too.

Shaking himself out of that train of thought, he slides the filing cabinet closed, folding his slip of paper and neatly sliding it into the inner pocket in his blazer, before exiting the safe room and the office, and leaving everything as he found it. He silently presses the button on the control in his pocket that would resume the cctv recording after he’d made it back to the ground flood, and he cant help but smile widely as he greets Seungri on his way back out to the barn, the other man looking minorly confused as Seunghyun pats him on the shoulder jovially on the way past, whilst subtly slipping the cctv control into the man’s other pocket.

‘Hyung?’

He turns back toward his dongsaeng as he calls to him, tuning into the cool façade he usually wore as he rose his eyebrows at him inquisitively, silently asking what he wanted as he took in the way Seungri was watching him suspiciously.

‘I-…Daesung told me to tell you he wanted to talk, I think it might have been something to do with the captives.’ He explains, the way he’d initially stuttered causing Seunghyun to contemplate the younger man as he waits for his response, before quickly flashing him a smile and bowing his head in acknowledgement.

‘I’ll go and see him now.’ He murmurs, turning back to the barn and walking casually back to the secure building, being aware of Seungri watching him as he goes, but not giving him too much attention as he smiles to himself, and heads toward phase 2 of the plan…

(T.B.C)

[nicksilveirart]

(SING!) Story Not Told, chapter 16 – I Don't Wanna

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 (MATURE)

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Click here to read chapter 16:

Buster leaned against the curtains, facing Laura. Damn. Neither of them had changed much, they figured. Buster was still the theatre-crazed sweet fella and Laura was still the seemingly gentle gal that could actually kick your ass. Buster laughed a little to himself. The opposite of Ash... "What?" He shook his head. "Nothing. Just funny seeing you after all these years. We could be complete strangers." Laura shot him a playful smirk. "If we hadn't kissed in the back of your dad's car wash, maybe. Also, I'm sorry about him... You doing okay?" "Getting there. I miss him. But what do you want to tell me?" "First off, I'm sorry for... What happened. I was young and dumb, and I'm sorry I broke your heart." "And secondly..?" He was shifting awkwardly. "Secondly, I wanted to know if maybe we could... try again." She moved slightly closer to him. He moved away. "It amazes me how you haven't found anyone in so many years. But uh... I'm kinda seeing someone." "Oh yeah? Who's the lucky girl?" She smirked, rising an eyebrow. "Ah, you don't know her." He waved his hands a bit. "It doesn't matter." "Hm. Funny you say that. You and that girl who played an original shared a more than friendly look." Buster froze. "You're so obvious." She giggled. "It's the same look you gave me that one time I invited you to dance with me then got a little hyped during a R.A.M song." "She's just an acquaintance." "Who was playing your old guitar. You think I don't remember?" "Okay, I lent her my guitar. This proves nothing." "You never lent it to anyone. That's something." She giggled. "What are you afraid of? You think I'm gonna judge you for being different species? Also I don't want you back, I'm actually engaged. Just wanted to embarrass you." "No, it's not that, it's-" He gave her a light stare, and blushed. "Laura!" "Naive you, like always!" She laughed. "I wouldn't drop that bomb on you." Buster pulled out a couple chairs, and took a seat, being followed by Laura. "But seriously, it's her, isn't it?" "Okay, I'm seeing her!" He threw his hands up in surrender. "That what you wanted to hear?" "How long?" "Few days, we're still trying to work out this whole age gap and different species thing. People are more accepting these days, but I don't want to expose myself or her." "How many years are we talking about?" "Twenty five." "And how old are you?" "Forty t-" Looking over, he saw Laura smirking, and shut his mouth. She cracked up laughing. "Forty two minus twenty five, that makes her... 17?" He nodded. "A bit young for you, don't you think?" "She's gonna be 18 in a few months. When we first kissed, this gap bugged me a lot, but she never seemed to care." "Teens." Laura scoffed. "I know, right? But at this point, I just followed her lead. It doesn't bother me anymore." "But it bothers police, and laws. Keep it hidden from public eye until she's legal, okay?" "Funny you say that." He chuckled. "Everybody was here, and the two of us were smooching backstage." "Good god, Buster." "She makes me feel young again." He confessed. "You remember the crazy stunts we pulled when we were young?" He said it almost in a whisper, and the gal burst out laughing. "If I do!" "We made out in your dad's old pickup truck, for Pete's sakes! And when he arrived the next day, we pretended nothing had happened? This is something we don't do anymore, the age we are. But when I'm with her I can... I can do that stuff. She makes me feel good about myself." "You mean hiding to kiss or sleep with someone?" He nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I miss that too. I'm just gonna ask you one thing." "What?" "Don't hold her back." "I won't. And she wouldn't let me if I tried." Both laughed lightly at this. "Your nick in school was Mr Uptight, I never told you this." He shot her a bored look. "If you're in for that forbidden love story thing, she must really be worth it." "She is. I can't highlight something about her that I like mostly, just everything she does is special in some way. If only you knew, you could feel this… you'd be amazed. I think I never loved a girl like I love her. No offense." She shook her head. "None." "I know it's wrong. I shouldn't be doing this, and it's wrong, I feel like a pervert at times. But on the other hand, I feel so good when I'm with her. I don't feel alone anymore." Laura smiled and nodded. The same Buster who'd just open up randomly. "You know, since my father left, I have no one besides Eddie. She kinda filled up a void I had in me." He shrugged. "Not like anyone can substitute my dad. But it's good to feel loved." "Well… I'm not the one to judge you. When I was 28, I went out with a kid who was 18." "That's 10 years of a difference, and the kid was legal." "Still, there was an age gap. And you said so yourself, she'll be legal in a few months. She's not a kid anymore, she can choose to be with you. Forget about everything else for a moment. Forget her age, laws, how society feels about it. Does Ash make you happy?" "Yeah." He beamed confidently. "More than I've been in the longest while." "Do you make her happy?" "I… yeah, I guess I do. I haven't asked her to go to Humbur's with me." The sides of his mouth curled into a smirk. The girl stopped for a moment. "For one, if you wanna keep her, never take her to that place." The male laughed. "Yeah, alright. The key to a relationship is happiness. If the two of you are happy, you are the perfect match. I know you can work this out. You made me happy." He smiled. "Thanks, I'm glad to know." "Just not that one time, we ended in the hospital because you tried-" Buster hung his head. "Don't ever remind me of that again. They called me 'arsonist' for a month!" "Alright, alright!" The girl giggled, then extending her hand. "Friends?" Buster smiled, and shook her hand. "Friends."

One word leading to another, Buster conducted Laura out of the theatre, hugging her on her way out for old times' sake. Ash did the same with her parents, who were too tired to go over to her house and chill. Not long after, both animals had the theatre to themselves. "What did your parents want?" "Tell me they accepted me, invite me over for dinner sometime, and tell me to stay off of drugs. What did your ex want?" "Tell me she was sorry about cheating on me, asking if we could be friends, and tell me not to hold you back." "What?" She stopped to face him. He brought her closer, and led her hands all the way up his shoulders. "She knows me too well." Leaning in, he kissed her. "I never got the chance to say congrats." "Thanks, Full Moon. It was cool to do it." "It's the best feeling, especially the clapping afterwards. I played when I was younger. Eventually, but I did." He beamed proudly. "I bet." She laughed. "Wanna go over to my place? You can stay there if you don't have a place to go." "You're asking me to move in with you?" He raised an eyebrow. "Well... You said you lived at the theatre, right? So you don't have a place to go." "I have Eddie's house. It's tempting, Ash, but I... you know. It's not gonna end up well." "We might as well be roommates." She shrugged. "I'm the competitor who offered shelter to the manager when he lost his house." He raised his eyebrow. "I wake up super early." "Fine by me. And it's just until you find a place." She shrugged. "Then we see what we do." Buster shot her a gentle smile, and bowed to kiss her hands. "Thanks, love." It was a good 10 minute subway ride to Ash's apartment. Buster made a mental note to ask Eddie for some money to go clothes shopping, as every clothe he had was literally on his body. He carried Ash's guitar case, while she held his old guitar, striking the chords away and humming to herself. "You know… I respect you a lot more now." "Why's that?" "Because you carry this everywhere with you, and this half hour is killing me." The girl laughed. "Need help?" He shook his head, and winked. "Hey, I'm being a gentleman here." She laughed. "Alright. Say… who was that sheep you were talking to? Not Eddie, the other one? She seems familiar." "She's an actress, Nana Noodleman. I used to go to her shows when I was a kid." He said, enthusiastic. "She must be really old, then." Ash teased. "Few months over ninety." And the girl's eyes went wide, making him giggle. "And the good part is, she's rebuilding the theatre!" "Seriously?" "Yeah, and we're having a squid-powered stage! Just like the one who took us here." He chuckled lightly, tilting his head to kiss her, but quickly remembering they were in public. And that practically the entire city had seen the show, so them both were recognizable. His ears dropped slightly, and he sat straight. The gesture, however, wasn't unnoticed by Ash, who squeezed his hand. He smiled at her, and within minutes both were walking down the street to Ash's apartment. Getting closer to the building, they couldn't miss a porcupine sitting just outside of it, a single rose in hand. "Oh for god's- he has gotta be kidding me!" Buster shrugged. "Guess someone saw the show." She gave him an annoyed look. "What, did you think he'd never realize who he lost? You're amazing. And by what you told me, he craves for spotlight." Ash nodded. "He does." "Well, are you giving it to him? You know you're city-wide famous now." "After coming this far? Never." He smiled. "He never bothered believing I could do it. Listen…" She gave him her keys. "Second floor, as you know. I'll be there in a beat." Buster nodded. "Alright. If things get out of hand, just yell. Kicked him once… can kick him twice." Both laughed, as the other porcupine finally acknowledge their presence. He waved. "Hey, Ash." He eyed the koala, and Ash could swear he flinched just the slightest bit. "Moon." Buster walked up the steps, putting the key in the keyhole, before fixing the tuft of hair on top of his head. "It's Mr Moon for you, kid." He then turned it, but the doorknob wouldn't go. He twiddled with it a bit, Ash hardly suppressing a laugh at the scene in front of her. Fidgeting with the knob a bit, and finally getting it to turn, the koala looked back at her. "Got it!" And with that, he quickly went inside. She thanked heavens it was over, because she was about to burst out laughing anytime. She bit down on her lip to prevent her from doing so, and turned to her ex. "What do you want?" "Hello to you too." "What are you doing here, Lance?" "I brought you this." He extended the rose. Ash lifted a brow, and took it. "Thanks." "Can we talk?" "I'm not taking you back." "Oh come on babe! I told you it was a one day thing!" She lifted a finger in air. "If you're gonna start calling me 'babe', I'm just gonna leave." "Okay, sorry! But come on… can't you forgive me?" "I can forgive you, but I don't want you back! I didn't want you back when you dropped by the other day, I don't want you back now!" "But you do know it was a one day thing." "I have my doubts." "You were never around, I was just lonely." "I was never around? I was out late for two days working for us! We had a plan, Lance! If we won that money, we'd create a label, and the world'd hear your songs!" He tried speaking up, but Ash didn't let him. "Pipe down, I'm not done yet! Hardly a place in town wanted us; I always told myself that it was because no one understood you. I let you into my apartment after your parents kicked you out, I worked at a place I hated just so I could keep the two of us! Because you so generously just didn't last in a job!" "I don't always wake up with an alarm, you know that! Come on, Ash… I know I screwed up, but can't we start fresh?" "And after what I've done for you, you take your other one to our house? Seriously? And I didn't get to the good part yet. Above all… you never believed me. I always told you I wanted to write, and sing. You never helped, or even cared. All you did was say I wasn't good enough. But you know what? I am good enough. That I did today, I did on my own. Those claps were given to my work." "I know, and it was like… totally cool, Ash! We could make a duo again, you know? I sing some leads, you sing some other…" He risked. "Thanks, but no." Lance took a few steps forward, prompting her to move away. "Letting out the fact I'm never gonna find someone better than you!" She smiled. "Yeah you will, just like I did. And he's kinda waiting anyway, so… I see you around. Plus, I think you have your own problem to deal with." She pointed in a direction, and Lance turned to look, freezing in place. "This is where you came grocery shopping?!"

[zedkyo]

Day One Sorta...

Two weeks ago the world was a much happier, though at the same time not as happy place. At least back then they were just trying to screw each other out of a nearly useless currency instead of trying to eat or kill each other outright, or most of the world was. Now we’re standing at gunpoint from some boys that look like they should have either eaten or been eaten this last week, practically skin and bones and barely able to hold up the guns they are threatening us with.

“Which one of you is the leader?” The man nearest the middle of the group steps forward, directing his used-to-be-illegal sawn-off side by side 12gauge at each of the seven of us individually, though in no condition to even start to guess which of us is the leader, or the most dangerous for that matter. His cloths can only be described as grey scraps of cloth, littered with brown splotches from the dirt. It’s only been two weeks, how are people this bad off already? “I asked a question!” He’s obviously getting impatient now so I step forward.

“They call me Zed. I guarantee though, if you pull that trigger the other six will wipe you and your band out faster than they can pull their own.”

“Yea? Wanna bet?” He opens the barrel in a show that it is in fact loaded, though I think he might have forgotten if it actually is. Before he can even close the action on it, two guns are drawn from the closest to me and pointed at the raggedy group.

I point to my left, at a woman that looks no less than thirty, a large caliber, and even larger barreled rifle aimed dead center at the man’s head. “This one’s V, and the one on my right we call Hulk. You can probably guess why.” V, is no small girl for sure, and she holds the twenty plus pound rifle steady for standing up and it being nearly as tall as her five and a half foot tall self. Wiry looking, but faster at drawing then the other.. The second one, maybe three inches below my near six and a half feet tall is built almost like the Hulk himself from the comics and old TV show. In one hand he sports a similarly equipped sawn-off, though this one is easily a 10gauge, wielded like a child might a dandelion. In his other, or rather hanging off his shoulder and the trigger held by the other hand is a triple-barreled chain gun, the button on the side of the reversed pistol grip pressed down to charge the RPMs of the barrels, all three hair-triggers pressed to their maximum reach before they actually let off a round. The minigun seems to have the most effect though, and the man slowly closes the chambers of his and orders his men to lower their guns as well, to which the high pitched grinding sound dies down and all weapons are lowered. Loaded or not, every gun has an intimidation factor, and the way we look compared to the way they look is more convincing that ours are actually loaded. “Now, how about some food? You boys look as hungry as we feel tired.” I motion towards the abandoned hotel in the middle of the flatlands where we are at, the men eye our bags with delight at the prospect of food and hurry in, only the man at front waiting until the big guns pass him to start heading inside with me at his heels, seemingly more restrained than the others. Smart. Dangerous.

Two Weeks, and Two Days Ago: Chaos Begins, T-Minus 52 hours.

V was nowhere to be seen, which was good. If she was seen, we wouldn’t have had the surprise on our side. Hulk and I stopped at the front in our black SUV, looking at the old apartment building that should have been demolished a decade ago.

“Well boss, looks like another job we have to watch our step in.” His voice is deep, but soft. Not showing any of the mental horrors or pain he had stored away for nights light this.

“Aren’t they always? It’s not like simple gang bangers can afford a fancy mansion, now can they?” I replied casually, having done this a thousand times already. He shrugged, knowing I’m at least partly right. If they didn’t spend their money on their own dope, they probably could with the money they make.

V sounded in our ears, her voice was silky and young compared to her age, even two weeks later in the middle of hell, for less appropriate terms. “At least twenty moving around, I don’t see any on the far side.” I confirmed two at the door, watching our car with nervousness mixed with genuine fear. I could only assume word had gotten around about the last six years things had gone awry for people like them and their bosses in the state. Someone eventually made up a name for people like us and word always spreads.

“We have the two at the door, Hulk is going to breach, then you take down as many as you can that you have CLEAN shots for. None of that half-assed, guessing shit like you did last month and left a couple of injured that nearly dropped us.”

“How was I supposed to know there was some angled sheets of scrap metal they had pack-ratted away? Besides, a clean shot would imply not through walls, and you know nobody goes NEAR a window when the shooting starts.”

She knew what I meant, it was just her way of saying she would keep to what she knew was safe to shoot through. At this point, I might as well pause.

Eight years ago. I started out alone, story of boy meets girl, bad guy kills girl and leaves guy alive. Guy takes his shitty, civilian equipment and gets revenge. The twist there is, the story doesn’t end with that. Someone else sees him do it, decides to offer him a job doing it. Starting with only pocket knives, working nights during school time, on weekends, earning money he can’t admit to where he got, and can only show off small bills at a time. Shown where to get black market weapons, to do better. Better knives, a gun or two just in case, REAL equipment. One night on a job, runs into a gang training a girl that was in the slave trade for the last twelve years. He nurses her to health in secret of his family, turns her loose. Eventually we run into each other again, she wants me to train her in what I do, as payback for all the people that bought and sold her since she was kidnapped at 6. A year later, we find a huge man that was probably a bodybuilder before he was beaten half to death chained to a wall in the basement. Free and nurse him after clearing out the warehouse, he joins the team for similar but different reasons. Three people with shitty pasts joining together to try to stop any more people from getting hurt by the same garbage.

Back to the job that night. The hulk of a man opened his door and steps out, followed quickly by me. We walked towards the door slowly, non-threatening, but guns are still drawn on us as expected. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Doing maintenance work. Your door looks pretty busted, like it’s coming off its hinges.” The smartass WOULD say something like that too, and it surprisingly throws these two off and their guns lower as they both stupidly look back at the door. He immediately steps between them in the middle of their, “But it’s fi-”, his burly right hand reaches under and back, pulling a 40lb hammer down from a sheathe across his back, one upward motion hitting the door dead center and blowing it in several feet before the crumpled piece of metal even hits the floor.

The gunmen instantly turn their guns on him, and I draw two solid metal knives from my sides, two blacked throwing knives really, each carved and sharpened from a single dense sheet of steel without any hinges or plastic. Fists up, blades down, Hulk is in the door and I quickly join him, having “punched” past the two guards with the blades slicing their throats clean enough that they probably didn’t feel it until the tips cut between the vertebrae and almost instantly killed them before they dropped.

“More subtle next time, big guy?” I tossed the twin blades, one towards the guard of the next door, sticking it deep into his chest and through his heart before he can even raise the muzzle of his shotgun, the one in my left hand spiraling off to the right immediately after to stick into a second man’s forehead as he rose from the couch near a TV.

V hops on comms again, this time with a warning. “Civilian in the next room, Zed hit that one. Kaden, you get the door on the left. Hit it hard, it’s sturdy but won’t hold because it looks like the frame is rotting a bit, but there’s a guy behind it you won’t have to deal with otherwise.”

“Thanks Vera.” Take note that Hulk is only his nickname as we headed our separate directions while V nags me about hating when I call her that. I pulled my handgun, which is more like a hand cannon, from the holder on my left thigh, aiming it at the left before I even kick down the door. Taking the hint from V, and another throwing knife in my right hand, I pull the trigger on the first guy in the room and using the recoil as momentum from the heavy caliber pistol I launch the knife into the man’s neck, just above this girl’s shoulder. Released from his grasp she drops to the floor. A third, behind the second is practically tore in half from a bullet the size of my throwing daggers that also tears a hole in the two walls to my right and rips a chunk out of the floor before the phosphorous tipped shell disintegrates into the ground. Looks like she didn’t hit any sheet metal this time. The rest of the building was easy, a tip here, an extra hole in the wall there, and the last 15 or so armed people are cleaned up. I walked back through, digging my knives out of people’s bodies in various places, cleaning it on their clothes before restoring them to their proper places on my now slightly hole filled body armor. Those welts are going to hurt tomorrow for sure. It’s a weekend though, nobody to ask why I’m limping from this chunk taken out of my not-so-protected hip at school. As we walk out the front door, all reusable equipment in hand, we see V almost to the vehicle already.

“You have a count?” She asked. I simply shrugged in response, as we all knew the job was the clear the building out, not to care about how many were in it. We certainly weren’t the kind to compete like Legolas and Gimli might either. Everything is stripped off and tossed in the back, knowing in the imperfect world all the gunfire that took place over ten minutes would mean the cops would take less than thirty from the first shot, meaning we had ten minutes to move away from the area before we even heard a siren out here. That doesn’t mean we could properly store them before getting thirty or so miles away though, so we hopped in, Kaden passed out almost immediately in the back seats while I crawled into the passenger side and V slid behind the wheel and started us away.

Maybe an hour and a half later all the gear is secure where it should be, in the safe under the seats, and ten minutes more we’ve gotten back to their motel and I’ve been escorted home by, as some might call, the “.50 caliber chick.”

This next part is not an action movie, and you should be over 18 for it. Anyone underage, please scroll past this, don’t worry I’ll tell you when you can stop.

Veronica ran her hand along my thigh, a thing I might do if I’m stressed, whether to myself or someone I’m close to. She however, has different intentions with the motion.

“Vera, you know how I feel about this.”

She hummed out an uh-huh, her fingers danced upwards slowly, teasingly. I’m driving and I prefer not to take a hand off the wheel. Besides, I drive a manual, so even if both hands are not on the wheel, the second still needs to be somewhere on the car instead of fighting her off. By the time we got to my house and I had parked, she had slid her hand into my pants and was rubbing the growing bulge in my boxers. I practically jumped out of the car, walking inside as she took her time getting out, knowing with my more feral senses she was doing every seductive movement she could while getting out. I opened the door and practically snuck inside to keep from waking the other occupants of the house up, where she walked around to the front of the house where my window was on the second floor, climbing up the gutter with her own silent ease and letting herself in through the never locked pane of glass right as I stepped in the door, not turning the light on as per my usual way of entering my room. I had it memorized, and light just wakes people up anyway.

Before I could respond to her presence, she states in a quiet, innocent, but loving tone. “You’re tired, and injured. Let me help you get those off.” Her hands slid under my shirt, and I woefully lifted my arms up to let her pull it off my torso. Her fingers tug at the button on my pants, then undo the zipper. “These have to come off too, since this is around where your biggest injury is.” Her fingers pushed beneath my boxers at my hips, the wound not even making me flinch as she accidentally brushes against it, being too tired and having too high of a pain tolerance to even feel it. Her thumbs stay on the outside however, allowing her to push both layers down to my ankles as I kicked off my shoes.

I sighed, twisting my body to fall on my back on the bed, where she flicked at my erection playfully. “Well, even if you resist mentally, your body still seems to enjoy my touch. I’ll get to that after I patch that up though.” Two which she pulls a roll of gauze and rubbing alcohol from under my bedside table. One of the things I always keep around me, just in case something happens, accident or not.

V taped the gauze in a large bundle to my side, to make sure I didn’t roll over in my sleep and bleed out through a thin sheet or something. After that, I heard her clothes hit the floor and realize she hasn’t thrown my blanket over me. Instead of a blanket, and before I can realize I was still exposed, she crawled on top of me, my slowly dwindling hardon instantly springing back to life as her warm body pressed against mine in the dark, the heat between her legs rivaling the core of my own body, if rumors of me being a space heater are true.

“Now the fun part, unless you really don’t want to.” She stretched out that “really” as far as she could, so I sighed and wrapped my arms around her back, a hand on her lower back to squish her nethers against mine, and the other at the peak of her shoulder, pressing her chest to mine as I kissed her neck hard enough to leave a definite hickey. She ground helplessly against my body in her sudden lust, and moaned directly into my ear at my unexpected move.

I smirked at her as she cried out. “One, you should probably muffle yourself however you can, and two, you teased me for the last twenty or so minutes and THEN tell me I can say no?”

Her only response was to grind even rougher at me with her hips, my hand keeping her folds away from the tip of my member by pressing them instead against the base of my shaft, her body unable to pull back and reposition. “C-come on. Please??” Great, she’s begging now. Might as well give her what she wants, since she has pushed me this far right?

I relaxed my grip on her lower back, my hand brushed past her ass and gripped her thigh. I’m rewarded this time, a small gasp as I pull her knee towards her side, suggesting she pull the blankets over us just in case someone decides to check if I actually am home, and she does just that right before I lift her cooch into the air and spread it wide and deep by pressing her down on my rod. She did her best to stifle her shocked moan by digging her teeth into my shoulder almost deep enough to draw blood.

“My turn now?” She looks at me pleadingly in the dark and I nod, being able to see quite well in the blackness. My hands both moved to where her legs and hips meet as she sat up on my lap, balls deep in her hot, wet, and rather soft-walled mound. She started slow at first, rocking her hips back and forth, getting used to me inside of her before beginning to bounce on my lap. She bit her hand to keep quiet this time, her walls clenching tighter as she gained speed and momentum. I could feel myself reaching my own peak as well, spurred on by the knowledge she was getting off on me.

Right before we both climaxed, my hands reached up, one cupping the back of her neck to pull her down into a rough but intimate kiss, the other wrapping around her breast. The feeling of her lips against mine, as well as my hand squeezing her tit gave us both a little jump of pleasure, hers more obvious however as her pussy became like a vice, every pulse of our hearts was felt by us both the fitting was so snug by this point. She thankfully didn’t break the kiss, but by her mewls I could tell she was cumming, and so was I. Every time one of her tiny moans was around the same time as the throbbing spurt of my balls emptying into her depths, she squeaked a little, our bodies held tight to each other even in the afterglow. I refused to pull out, even after, and I knew she would hate if I did, so we lay there with her on top, both of us more exhausted than we were from the job.

Ok little ones, you can open your eyes now.

Her body laying on top of mine, she pants, speaking quietly because of our close proximity in the bed. “Why don’t you want to do this all the time, Zed? Why do you not like us being close?”

I sigh at the question. “You know why.” She pouts at my response, so I oblige her for a hundredth time. “I found you in a time of hardship, and gave you a better place. Our relationship started off as a thrill in that way, so us being close like this is just us being mentally attached to the feeling of when we first met, and that feeling is just a memory that is years old.”

“We could make new ones, ones that don’t involve blood or you saving my ass, literally.” Always persistent, but I do have to give her credit for trying.

“All we do is deal with blood and saving each other’s asses. Figuratively OR literally. When this goes away, then we won’t have anything keeping us together.”

She always hates that response to that question, but she’s euphoric at the moment and doesn’t argue. I was too tired at the moment anyway to argue, and she was already half asleep now as her breathing slowed. I hated to admit I loved feeling this close to someone, but it was also scary because I didn’t think it would last either. I could think about that more in the morning anyway, if she decided to bring it up. I closed my eyes and felt myself drift into sleep, knowing full well the horrors and memories that accompany my dreams, but at least there was someone to wake up to tonight instead of a cold empty room, not knowing if I was still in my nightmares.

End of day 1

[monstersmonthly]

Choose Wisely when Heading to an Arena Monster Truck Show

This time of year, monster truck fans are always looking for that show that is worth the trip.  Factor in how far the show is from home, the amount for tickets, gas to get there, and even a hotel as needed.

Stadium shows at the larger venues are always the hot ticket, but the reality is that there are more places that host a hockey game or basketball in the country instead of an NFL team.  This means most shows are held in a small arena, but no two shows are the same, and no two setups are the same either.

Over the years, arena shows have drastically changed.  No longer is a show headlined by tractor pulls with a car crush exhibition, nor does it strictly involve side-by-side racing in such a small space.  Instead, many different monster aspects are showcased, but again, no two shows are the same.  No two shows have the same lineup, and there’s certainly no two shows that are run with the same concept.  Only common theme among all the promoters, and even the drivers, is simple…win, but put on a show.

For me, the opportunity to see someone else put on such a show aside from who I have seen in the past, is not very often.  But, a trip to Youngstown, Ohio, allowed me to get a chance to see a promoter I haven’t seen live.  But, thanks to video and photos of prior shows, the Toughest Monster Truck Tour seemed to be the right fit to start my season, and also see some new trucks.

What I also got to see was a conventional show, but without the drama of feeling the need to run equipment to the brink of failure in order to please the fans.

Immediately the show was getting high marks because of the caliber of trucks.  Sure, when Bigfoot is in attendance, the show already is getting high marks, especially when the truck there is their newest and best piece.  Add in a talented driver, even if that driver is doing a fill-in role, as Josh Gibson was doing.

But it wasn’t he that really upped the show value.  The team from Indiana of Dirt Crew and Quad Chaos ultimately gave the show some of the best credibility it could have.

One thing when I look at indoor shows, especially those with dirt being brought in, is the track layout.  After the last several years of seeing the “pod” as it has been called, it was a welcome relief to see something different.  The setup was old-school to an extent.  The racing lanes were made of dirt rather than just a dirt ramp with cars.  The racing lanes had dirt plateaus, with the end of the dirt being stuffed with a pair of loader tires.  Those tires gave the trucks a bit of a “pop” during the wheelie competition, something that some tours aren’t doing as much.  They go with a skills challenge, seeing how one can handle a truck on two wheels, whether it be the two front, two back, or side to side.

There’s nothing wrong with a classic wheelstand, because it still excites a crowd, so that definitely is one thing that caught me right away.

The biggest thing that made me enjoy the overall weekend was the fact yes, these trucks are putting on a show, but they are not going completely over the top in order to put on that show, especially when the equipment is owned by the drivers themselves, and not some corporation.  When parts break, it’s them that eventually must foot the bill for replacement and/or repairs.

Case in point:  Kreg Christensen and Aaron Cain.

Christensen destroyed the third member in the rear end of his Dragon Slayer, which is attached to the axle in order to turn the planetary gears in the hub.  That was an all-day job, but he and team got everything ready to go for the second show.

The first night, Kreg Christensen had to repair only one main part. After night two, he needed to make a lot more.

Cain had a lot more help, but a bigger issue.  After losing gearing in the transmission, he had to take the broken one out, and put a new one in.  Problem was, no one was available to rebuild the broken one on Saturday, so plan B needed to be implemented.  One call to the team shop meant a long ride on Saturday morning to get a transmission to the venue to be put in.  Sure, it was the backup and it wasn’t the normal one used in the truck, but it would be enough to get through the show, before going home and doing the real repairs.

Everyone pitched in to get all these trucks ready to go both nights, even if it meant just cleaning the bodies so they looked good for the start.  But by the end of the weekend, a couple of the trucks not only needed a lot of repairs, they needed to be repaired enough just to get them in the hauler.

Christensen caught the side of the center double stack, and it kicked him sideways so hard it planted the front end in the ground, tearing a four-link bar and suspension caving under the chassis.  It became a long night for the team from Utah, but then it was after the show that made a major impact on how I viewed the tour.

No matter the team nor what the end result was, when it came time to leave, everyone pitched in to get the teams ready for their ride home.

It certainly made it easier when the equipment used to build the track also was equipped to haul our some of the parts to make these trucks run.  Teams were taking off the big tires as quick as they could, then putting on the transport tires to fit them in the hauler.  But, when one team was already done, they then hopped into the bobcat and then began hauling out other teams’ tires to their haulers so they can get loaded up.  Within maybe an hour and 15 minutes, every team minus the Christensen camp was already “tired down” and loaded up.  Sure, many decided to hang out a little bit longer to say their goodbyes, but it was one of the easier load ups that I have seen.

When I began leaving the show with my friend Kevin, who was one of the crew guys for the Quad Chaos and Dirt Crew duo, we both were talking about how good the show was.  He had been there the last few years, but this was my first experience.

We both left satisfied, and actually left in surprisingly good moods, even though we left a bit later than we expected based on our time of staying behind.

After dropping him off and heading home, I realized this was the first show where I knew a majority of the backstage crew rather than just the drivers.  I got to see the duo behind the Monster Blog, who actually are hired on as lead photographer and videographer for the tour, and even got to witness something I’ve not seen since I was a young child.

Seeing this happen at this show made me go from being age 33…to being only six years old.

It was in November when I officially met Gary Bauer, the owner of the Lon Ranger and now the one who owns the clone Ranger that was debuted in Auburn, Indiana, at the Hall of Fame.  This time, however, he got to drive it into the arena for the crowd to see, and then do something that honestly only the parents in the stands can recall.

Sure, it may not be big air, or a crazy move, but back in the day, a car crush was something that drew a crowd like nothing else.

So seeing the Lon Ranger hit just two cars, and getting the front tires off the ground, for even the oldest of fans was exciting.  It also provided a moment that I have not seen from any other promoter in recent years.  With all these old trucks being restored or cloned, it’s not often that these trucks get to be shown in front of a modern audience.  The worst, or maybe disappointing, part of this aspect is that modern day fans, especially the kids, don’t have as much understanding of where this industry began.  It wasn’t all about getting big air, or skying a truck to the roof of a building.  It was hitting a set of cars and either landing on the crushed metal and driving off, and then doing it again.

Seeing Bauer wear his original driving jacket, then put on a helmet, and hit the cars so hard that the nose of the truck would wheelstand before crushing down on the roofs of the cars under him…it just was delightful.

There’s very few promoters that are bringing in the classic trucks, and letting them do their classic show.  In many ways, it’s education for the younger generation, before there was all these precision tools to ensure every piece of the truck is where it needs to be.  These classic trucks were images in one’s mind, as fellow Hall of Fame driver/owner Marty Garza once said.  But it was an opportunity to show that a monster truck wasn’t always a technological piece that was built in bulk as some cases may be, but instead was one truck, in one shop, and it was usually the only one a driver owned.

That moment on both nights of the show, made it.  Hands down, it made it.

Sure, other tours may or may not bring in a classic truck, probably because of show format and such, but when a classic truck is involved, that makes the show that much better.

In the end, the grade the Toughest Monster Truck Tour is getting from me is an A.  They had a good flow, they kept the crowd involved, and they didn’t need a whole lot of “fluff” to keep the show entertaining.  It was trucks, freestyle bicycles, trucks, a classic car crush, and finally the trucks.  In between, there were t-shirt giveaways, a free pizza for a fan, and both a wave to the crowd from all the drivers and track crew after the show.

It was a show where there wasn’t a need for crazy bodies, or music, and that was perfectly fine.  Honestly, outside of my home town shows, it was one of the better arena events I have been to.  And you can bet I will be back.

The Toughest Monster Truck Tour will have All About Horsepower back.  When…well time will tell.  But, it will happen.