#this is NOT. a criticism of underground aus i am the first in line to congratulate people salvaging that mess. i am a ninjago fan. but i am

[un-pearable]

i desperately want to talk about the stt au again but i had a moment of “oh no i’m one of those people who has an underground au”. a) fuck that this is sonic fandom there is ALWAYS stupider shit out there and b) this is like. 1% underground (the existence of manic and sonia) and 33% game canon and 60% archie w movie/fleetway/whatever inspo whenever it was relevant. that is furthest from being the problem with the triple threat au. the REAL problem with the triple threat au is that it’s FUCKINH HUGE and all of rhe documentation is scattered across three discord servers two google docs and a one note folder. and shadow was stuck on the ark for fifty years bc i got three arcs in before realizing i forgot he existed and now i’m too attached to his story to introduce him sooner

[mightyfineblog]

Mob!AU Bohemian Rhapsody fan fiction

(Joe, Gwilym, Rami and Ben x Reader)

Summary:You’re just a simple girl, who happens to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. Your life gets a complete turnaround when you are sucked into the mob world of guns, violence, death and no mercy. You have to learn their ways if you want to stay alive, but will that help when you meet the Don? The boss of all mob bosses?

Words: 7k+ Warnings: lots of strong language, mature themes, graphic violence, graphic death, weapons, contraband  ; Smut and kinks; some slowburn moments.

Who’s who:

Ben - The Gun

Joe - Mad Joe

Gwilym - The Brains

Rami - Nitro

Manchini - rival gang leader

and you (the reader) of course!

A/n: Please, leave me any kind of feedback if you liked the story. I am grateful for criticism, recommendations, ideas, everything. So you if got something you want to say, or just stop by and say hi. I’m always here for you. <3

Now, to the fanfic, here is one bloody long fanfiction. Enjoy:

“I’m going to need somebody to cover the delivery tonight. Make sure everything runs smooth. Can’t trust ‘em Manchini’s.” Ben took a puff and tapped his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray.

“I’ll take it, boss. In a need of some distraction anyway. One Manchini down could do me some good.” Joe stood  up energetically from the table.

“Mad Joe.” Ben’s  was voice warningly stern.

“Accidental explosions happen...” Joe lifted his arms in the air playfully.

“Just make sure, the shipment is in line.” Ben quirked his left eyebrow.

“Toodles” Joe waved his hand over the shoulder leaving the room.

The rest of the men stood there in silence until they finished their smokes.

“It’s just a lot on his head right now.” Gwilym spoke first.

“He’s doing pretty damn well, considering… well everything.” Rami shook his head.

“Yeah.” Ben nodded with his lips pressed together. “He better get through this sooner than later.”

“It’s been less than a month. Give him some more time. Go easy on him.” Gwilym tried to convince Ben.

“Can’t you see than I am?” Ben muttered through gritted teeth. “Just. Go after him. Make sure he won’t shoot somebody for whatever reason.” Ben exhaled deeply rubbing his eyebrows.

“Alright.” Gwilym agreed and left the room as quickly as possible.

“You look like you need a drink boss.” Rami taped Ben on the shoulder. He nodded in response.

“I’ll meet you down at the club. Need to take care of something first.” Ben lit another cigarette.

Rami left the room, leaving Ben alone on the round table. He sat there staring into the nothing until his smoke was halfway finished. Exhaling a heavy breath he took a few slow steps to the old cabinet.

“That should do it.” He stated, as if he was debating with himself.

Ben took a bottle of a 12 year old MacAllan. He looked at it. But then put it back.

Disposing of another smoke, he took his leather jacket and swiftly put it on. Making his way through the car park, he sat in his car and started the engine.

“We’re all getting revenge for her. Don’t you worry, Joe.”  he muttered with his knuckles white on the steering wheel. As he was passing by THE place where less than a month ago they all lost a beloved one to the hand of a rival.  

“Took ya long enough.” Rami gave Ben a cheeky smile, as he found himself on the bar with two girls hanging around his neck “The party’s started.”

“I see you’ve been” Ben quirked a brow and checked out the two hot chicks in Rami’s arms “Quite occupied.” he gave him a half smirk.

“This is Cindy and this is Mindy.” Rami pointed one and then the other girl. “So?”

“‘I’m going to get a drink.” Ben tapped his hands on the bar.

“Boss.” Rami slid off the girls and came closer to Ben, who gave him half look without turning his head his direction.

“You alright, boss?” rami put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Come on.” he prompted him.

Ben ticked his tongue and shook his head.

“Come on man. Loosen up a bit. When was the last time you got laid?” Rami’s tipsy figure was far less entertaining than he thought.

“Since when do keep Me in check?” Ben gritted his teeth annoyingly.

“Was just tryna lighten you up. You know. You keep saying Joe is doing bad, but it’s you man. It’s you.” rami waved his finger in the air and left to join the girls.

“Pff.” Ben huffed and took a sip of the whiskey in front of him.

“Guess the old fella gots a point here. Might need to tap something tonight. To get it out of my system.” Ben said to himself. He turned and looked around. The bar was full. Full of pretty women.

Maybe Ben was trying too hard to stay afloat, to keep his tough leader presence, but deep down he knew the accident affected him. It affected him in ways he didn’t want him to.

The urge to avenge his sister’s death was great. It was like a never ending fire burning him from the inside, and every past day was only fueling that fire.

There was nothing else on the back of his mind, in fact he realised it really has been all that time. So unlikely. Ben usually tapped the hottest chicks, and he barely ever repeats them, but one. A dancer in the club, named Gracie. All the other girls were always jealous, because she casually is called up to the boss’s penthouse above the club, which Ben owns as well. In fact, the club is just a masquerade, to cover for his mob work. Everybody knew that. And everybody always kept a close eye on how long she has been to the penthouse. “Don’t be jealous, ladies.” Ben would wink to the rest of the women, when he would return shortly after to the bar.

He finished his drink and snapped his fingers to the bartender, pointing where Gracie was dancing tonight. He nodded as Ben turned around at pressed his lips together, overlooking at her, as she hungrily made her way to him.

“Boss.” she giggled, tracing the collar of his shirt.

“What have I told you about such behaviour in public?!” he grabbed her wrist.

“But, don’t you want me anymore?” She pouted her lips like a slut.

“I do. You’re coming upstairs.” Ben dragged her with him to the elevator.

Less than an hour later Gracie went back to her usual spot, but Ben didn’t follow. Instead, he opted for the balcony. He observed the night sky and the glimmering skyline from the top. The large apartment suddenly seemed so empty and vast. Ben felt so lonely and in this particular moment, not even his usual fuck couldn’t help it. Instead of closing in even more, Ben decided to check on Gwil and Joe and their task.

“Hey boss.”  

“Don’t you hey me, how the divelry going on? Any men down?”

“Pff, no. Everything’s under control now.”

“That doesn’t sound much in control. Is that a woman's screams I’m hearing?”

“What? Noo. Yes.”

“Cant fucking trust neither of you. Comin over.”

Ben shut the phone down. It was exactly what he needed. An actual distraction. Work.

He threw on a shirt and headed straight to the underground parking, skipping the bar on the way.

When he got to the docks,  Ben was less than surprised to find Joe and Gwilym behind a huge crate.

“What kind of weird, twisted game are you two playin? Why the hell you have a woman, tied up and gagged?” Ben rubbed his temple.

“We can explain it all. Let’s just take her and leave this place, asap. I hear cops.” Joe was frantically in a rush.

“Why the cops are coming? What about the shipment? Did it go through?” Ben muttered.

“It did, everything happened almost according to plan. We gotta get the fuck out.” Gwilym explained. Joe tossed youl over his shoulder and the three men vanished in thin air, as the police sirens were approaching.

“Keep her in the warehouse, you two have some explaining to do.” Ben ordered.

Once they arrived at the warehouse, Joe was quick to shove the girl inside and put her in one of the rooms.

“Looking so hot like this.” He bit his lip, as he examined Gwilym’s handiwork on tying you up with whatever kind of rope was available.

“Let me go!” you spat at his face “At once!” “Sorry dear, but whoever you are, you are now part of something serious. Only boss can decide your faith.” Joe put a strand of hair behind your  ear, but you took the change to try biting him.

Joe turned around and locked the room behind him. “Feisty”he thought.

“Listening.” Ben crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“She saw it all.” Gwilym rubbed his forehead.

“Saw what exactly?” Ben rolled his eyes.

“Everything. We saw her when we were covering our tracks.” Joe looked like he admitted defeat.

“We obviously cannot let her go, just like that. She’s going straight to the cops.” Ben put his arms on the table.

“I’ll decide what to do with her tomorrow. Keep her on lockdown for now.” Ben lit a smoke and left.

“Great.” Gwilym waved his hands ironically in the air.

“Oh no man. I ain’t stayin all night watching over some girl. You do.” Joe warningly moved past Gwilym.

“Oh no no. That is on you. You’re staying!.” Gwilym nodded his head.

“You’re the smart one, you think of something. I’m done here for today.” Joe stated.

‘Okay, go. I’ll keep an eye.” Gwilym shooed him out of the room.

For the rest of the night you stayed in that room, tied up and scared. You couldn’t show that of course, because, well you knew exactly what these men were. Gangsters, you realised. You’ve only heard of those in movies. But, you knowledge wasn’t enough for you to know how to get away alive.

First thing the next morning, Gwilym, Rami and Joe were at the round table. They were all looking at each other. The tension could be felt even outside the room.

“Why Is there a woman in my lockdown? Let’s start with that!” Ben barged in and hit the table with his wrist.

“How about you calm down first, okay?” Rami felt irritated by Ben’s tone.

“Don’t you tell me. You were getting laid while all this happened.” Ben pointed at Rami, who uncomfortably shrug in his seat.

“Aight aight.” He crosses his arms and pressed his lips together.

“What is done is done, she’s always seen enough to sell us to the cops.” Joe stood up.

“You know the options, boss.” Gwilym looked up to Ben and slowly shook his head from side to side.

“There’s two way she is leaving this warehouse.” Joe’s voice went low.

“With a fun, or in a coffin.” Ben sighed. “I’ll go talk to her and then I’m putting her down.” He made a quick exist.

“He’s not himself.” Rami put his hands down on the table.

“We all need time, Nitro.” Joe huffed and left too.

“I’m going for a drink.” Gwil quickly left too.  

Ben walked into the room where you were locked. You had finally falling asleep from all the exhaustion, so you didn’t hear anybody coming in. Ben walked over the bed and sat on the chair. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and took a minute to gather his thoughts. He looked you up and down from head to toe. “Looks so innocent.” he muttered quietly He cocked his head to the side and quirked an eyebrow. He flicked his tongue over his lips and exhaled. The corner of his lip almost curled into a half smile at the look of your casual short floral dress. It was yellow. It reminded Ben of his sister. She used to wear those all the time.

“Hey. Hey. Wake up.” he reached for your shoulder, making you jump all of a sudden. “Calm down. Gonna need you yo talk.” Ben stood off the chair.

You gulped and rose as much as you could. Your hands were still tied. Ben look from your face to your wrists and back and untied them.

“Aaagh.” you rubbed your wrists together.

“Who are you and what you were doing at the docks last night?” Ben brought his chair closer to you.

“I.I dont know anything. I swear!” You looked at the man’s feet. He was dressed more elegant than the others you already met.

“What did you see?” his voice remained calm.

“N-nothing. I swear to god.” You felt your eyes water at the thought of what they are going to do to you.

“Why don’t you start by, why you were there?” Ben was starting to get irritated.

“Was just, having a walk.”

“Now, tell me, really, why you were there.” Ben crossed his arms in front of his chest, again.

“My boyfriend left me.” you rolled your eyes and looked down.

“Hey.” Ben lifted your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. This was the first time, you looked at his face. It looked almost angelic, but tough at the same time. His green eyes, were like the devil. Beautiful, but dangerous. His lips were small but plump and they were bright raspberry color, so inviting, yet so rough.

“Were you abused?” Ben broke the silence.

You shook your head “It wasn’t like that. I ran away…” your eyes fell to the floor once again.

“I see.” Ben stood up and made a few steps around the small room. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair.

“The thing is. I cannot let you go. Under no circumstance, you are leaving here, free.”

“I won’t tell anybody, I won’t tell no cops, nobody. Please, just let me leave.” you pleaded.

“You either join my gang, or stay locked in forever.” Ben pointed his index finger in the air.

“You have until tomorrow to decide.” He stated and locked the door behind him.

“We got nothing to loose.” Rami looked optimistic.

“Nitro’s right. With the Manchini situation, this could be a sign. A good sign.” Gwilym was enthusiastic.

“Aye from me.” Joe raised his hand.

“So it’s decided. She might prove useful after all.” Ben agreed.

“And I know just exactly how.” Gwilym waved his finger in the air.

“Listenin’ Brains.” Joe shifted in his seat, adjusting the table.

“I got intel, that Paolo Manchini is going to be at the Rossario this Thursday night, aaand he likes the company of attractive women.” Gwilym’s face formed a wide grin.

“And, I prefer not to risk any of my women with the task, they’re far too valuable to loose in such a pathetic way.” Ben nodded.

“We get her all dressed up, wire her up, and she can do the rest. Easy peasy!” Rami exclaimed.

“Whoa, not so fast, Nitro. Mad Joe, whatcha thinkin?” Ben looked at Joe.

“All in for the idea. We got nothing to loose. She gets shot, not problemo; she does what she’s told and doesn’t get shot, all perfetto.” Joe stated.

“Good. Brains, get the tech ready. Mad Joe, I want to see numbers, and Nitro, make sure she’s not in there, when we blow the place up. I will take care of the rest.” Ben stood from the table.

“Been waiting for this, for god knows how many months now.” Joe cracked his knuckles, while papers were coming out of the printer. “Hello offshore bank accounts.”

“Somebody might even think you have gone mad.” Rain laughed as he passed by Joe.

“Damn right. Look at this baby.” joe handed him one of the papers.

“Sexy.” Rami ticked his tongue.

“Pretty marvellous, isn’t she?” Joe smirked.

“And what are we going to do with this and the rest of your smuggled accounts?” Rami ran his finger over the pile of folders.

“Precaution, of course. It’s all legal.” Joe lifted his arm.

“Why so much this time?” Rami suspiciously lifted one eyebrow.

“Boss wants to make sure.” Joe nodded, obviously he wasn’t allowed to say.

“Alright. Toodles for now.” Rami turned on his heel.

“Bye.” Joe buried himself in his desk again.

“And Joe, don’t got batshit crazy.” Rami knocked on the doorframe before leaving.

“Can’t promise that, mate.” Joe shouted from behind the fortress of paperwork.

“Hey.” Ben entered your room “You ready to talk? Made your choice.”

“Yes.” You seemed to have gained some confidence in the last couple of days being held hostage there, only, nobody was looking for you. Which, kind of made you a permanent hostage.

“Listen, girl. I don’t have all day. Talk.” Ben commanded, almost hurrying to leave.

“You need me, so I heard.” You perked your nose up.

“Huh.” Ben huffed and licked his lips.

“I will help you, but with a few conditions.” You stated.

“Not like you got a choice.” Ben grabbed your wrist, vanishing all confidence from your body.

“You belong to this gang now. You are our hostage. You belong to my men. You...” Ben came extremely close to your face “Belong to me now.”

His bright green eyes were full of darkness and power, lust you might even say. You didn’t know if you were scared or almost aroused by his stern actions.

“Ouch. Let go of me.” You wriggled, trying to free your wrist from his grip. You had to break the,  is he going hurt you or kiss you, kind of moment, because the tension was electrical. The seconds between him letting go of you felt like a million years.

“You know why they call me The Gun?” Ben gritted his teeth.

You gulped, but couldn’t dare to speak.

“Because I resolve issues with it. And you seem like quite the trouble right now.” Ben licked his bottom lip and cocked his head to the side.

You batted your eyelashes and pressed your lips together, because you weren’t in the position to object. If you wanted to stay alive of course.

“You’ll be given instructions tonight on what to do during your mission.” Ben turned around and shut

the door behind his back.

“Damn it.” You muttered under your nose.

“She’s trouble, boss.” Gwilym scathed his beard.

“No shit Sherlock!” Ben faked a surprised face.

”No need for that Ben.” Joe walked in.

“What do we need then?” Ben huffed.

“Give her good training, that will break her and I think she may be useful more than once.” Rami suggested.

“Agree with Nitro.” Gwilym chimed in.

“I’ll see what she’s capable of, as soon as tonight.” Ben concluded.

“Uh-uh” Rami squinted his eyes and have Ben a smirk. “Somebody wants a bite of the new snack.” His smirk grew even bigger.

“Fuck up, Nitro.” Ben lifted a brow.

Rami lifted a brow to him as well, as they spoke without words. Real bros in life and crime. They understand each other telepathically. Pfhahaha*Author’s comment*

Later that night, Ben felt restless. He had finished all work for the day, everything was going according to plan. Everybody knew exactly what they were doing, except for. Well, you, who were still in the unknown of your future. Ben walked over to his bedroom balcony, with a glass of scotch in his hand and a smoke in the other.

He looked at the magnificent view from his tower. Then looked closely, he could see everybody in the club downstairs. All those people, who only care about 3 things in life: sex, alcohol and drugs. Oh and money to spend on those three of course, so that makes 4. “How pathetic” he huffed, taking a sip. He then thought of what he has said to the rest of the lads. About testing your capabilities. Since he felt restless, he changed into sweats and shirt and took off to the warehouse, where you were held.

“Hey, hey. You awake?” You heard a soft voice in the dark, coming from the door.

“Who’s there?” You tried to see, but the light from the corridor was blinding the man.

“Guess, I never introduced myself properly. I’m Ben.” He walked over your bed, as you rubbed your adjusting to the light eyes.

“Hi Ben.” you yawned.

“How should I call you?” his voice sounded oddly friendly.

“Don’t matter, you were gonna kill me anyway.” you looked straight into his eyes.

“If you want to stay live, you’d need a nickname anyway. Will figure it out on the move..” Ben blinked at you, which left you quite puzzled.

“Let’s get up. We got so much work to do.” he patted your knee.

“So this is how you hold the gun.” Ben was carefully focused on keeping your hands steady.

“When do I shoot?” You pouted your lips.

“Whoa, take it easy. You got quite the fantasy.” Ben chuckled and it made you blush. Given the distance and position he was in, you could inhale nothing but his scent. So manly and bad, but with hidden caring underneath, which you couldn’t quite figure, yet.

“Focus.” He whispered in your ear.

“I. I am. “ you fixed your position, straightening up your body.

“Your finger goes into the hole. And keep it steady, okay?” He softly spoke. You could swear he was nuzzling his nose in your hair.

“And I pull.” you confidently finished his sentence.

“That’s right.” he held his breath. “Do it. Pull the trigger.”

You moved your focus on the target, aiming for the center and pulled the trigger with force. The power kicked you a step back, but Ben never left your side, so he already was there, expecting you. Waiting to catch you before you fall.

“You can open your eyes now.” He chuckled.

“Phew.” You breathed out “how bad was it?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He took the gun from your shaky hands.

“So I did extremely bad.” Your head fell down.

“Said not to worry. Let’s try again. Here.” He handed you the gun.

You carefully took it. Ben extended his arm over yours and held your hands with his. It felt so unreal , you forgot you were in the devil’s lair.

“Now shoot.” You felt Ben’s lips over your ear, his hot breath gliding over your neck, you felt that electricity once again and gained the confidence to pull the trigger. This time it sounded louder and you jumped back, curling straight into Ben’s arms.

“Whose arms are you going to run into when you have to shoot tomorrow?” Ben chuckled, brushing your arm.

“Huh?” You looked up.

“I won’t be behind you the next time.” He put a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I. I have to manage. Somehow.” You licked your lips, staring at his.

Before you knew it, his lips were pressed against yours.

“Sorry.” He stepped back.

“No, I’m sorry, it just- ”

“No, completely, I shouldn’t have.” He shook his head.

“This is so wrong.” your palm aligned with his.

“Very, very wrong.” He muttered before pulling you in for a kiss again.

His hands grabbed your wait and pulled you in his brace, as you stepped up on your toes to reach for him. Your hands wrapped around his neck, as if they were always meant to be, and you kissed him back. His lips felt plump and tasty like cherries, you just wanna bite. He hungrily swiped his tongue between your lips and it was all you needed to let him in. Your tongue glided with his, savouring each other, passionately dancing. You knew this nervous feeling in your stomach was true all this time. It was lust and immediate passion. That’s why you always felt so intimidated by him, at unease. Every contact with him made you nervous, and now it felt like, it all made sense.

“You should be more than ready for the mission tomorrow.” he pulled away from you and grabbed your hand. Bringing you to the room you were locked in, he pushed you in. This time he didn’t lock the door or chain you up or anything. You were practically given a green light to plan an escape.

“Gather your strength for the rest of the night, you gon need it tomorrow.” Ben disappeared, just as fast as he appeared.

“I’ll be damned.” Ben muttered to himself as he poured himself a glass of bourbon from the top shelf in the meeting room.

“Can’t sleep boss?” Gwilym appeared on the doorstep “It’s the girl, isn’t it?” he cocked his head to the side.

“Do you absolutely always have to know everything?” Ben lit a smoke.

“So it is her. Look, I aint no life advisor or expert, but  a good bang might you some good. Tap that, you have it.” Gwilym lit a cigarette as well, taking a seat next to Ben.

“No wonder, they call you The Brains.” Ben lift an eyebrow at Gwilym.

“You know the rules, she’s at your disposal to do as you please, but don’t get distracted. Women turn men’s heads into marshmallow. Look at Joe.” Gwil ticked his tongue.

“Sometimes I feel more sorry for him, than I do for me, you know?” Ben took another big gulp “Besides the fact he was screwing my sister, love did fuck him up. And look now, he’s gone completely mad.” he shook his head.

“But you need to get your shit together and avenge her. Love brought men no good.” Gwilym took a long puff and put the smoke away. “Mark my words, boss. Fuck all the women you want, but don’t fall in love. Been down this hoe before, not getting in there again.” Gwilym patted Ben on the shoulder and left.

“You know what are you doing?” Joe fixed a gun on your ribcage, underneath your shirt.

“Hey, easy!.” you pushed his arm away.

“Don’t get handsy” Ben passed by, tapping Joe on the shoulder.

“All set up, you can go to Gwil now.” Joe finished installing all the armor on your body.

You tried to walk normally, adjusting to all the pieces hanging underneath your clothes over the Brains.

“Just to make sure you remember the plan, and nothing goes wrong, we’ll go over it now.” Gwilym put on his eyeglasses and had you sat on a table at the corner of the room.

It was their warehouse, the place where they keep all the machinery, the place where the real business happens. On one corner you could see Joe and his desk full of papers, ashtrays and guns. To the other side was Rami’s corner. His side was the cleanest. He had carefully ordered cabinets with explosives, which looked like trophies. You turned your head to your left and saw Ben. The kiss that happened was bugging you to hell and back, but you had to concentrate on the plan now, if you wanted to stay alive after tonight.

“Fantasia. Fantasia! FANTASIA!” you heard Ben marching towards you.

“That will be your code name now.” Ben looked around to make sure the guys heard him right.

“Fantasia it is.” Gwil shook his head.

“Oh, okay I guess…” you didn’t quite know how to react to that.

The rest of the time you spend observing these men and their work. After all this time you spent there, they didn’t seem to look like they did when you first met them. They were not as scary as before, and you were becoming something more than a hostage. You were becoming part of their gang. “Am i mobster now?” ask yourself, and giggled at the thought of it.

“It’s time.” Ben took your hand in his.

“So soon?” You almost whined.

“You can do this.” Ben looked straight into your eyes and suddenly all hesitation and fear was gone.

“We’ll be right here. We can hear everything, and if things start endangering, you know the signal.” Ben helf your palm in his “Just make sure, you get the information, you are there to collect, and that Manchini has a taste for women.” he gulped at the last word.

“Okay, yes. I’m a woman, I can be a woman, seductive, even… I mean, look at me.” you gestued your body. “All glammed and armed up. Nothing will go wrong.” You nodded your head. “Right?”

“Of course. No go and don’t get killed.” The men assured you.

You walked inside the fancy restaurant and looked around, but could not recognise the man from the pictues.

“He’s not here.” you whispered.

“He’ll come soon. Wait at the bar. Order a dry martini.”

You did exactly as you were told, making your way towards the bar. For split moment, you felt awesome in your high heels, smokey makeup, long silky dress and the gun underneath it. But soon the moment was gone, when you noticed the man entering. As if he knew you, he took a seat next to you.

“Your class is empty senorita. The next drink is on me.” He waved to the bartender.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” You slowly turned to him, uncrossing and then crossing your legs again.

“You can call me however you want, senorita.” he was grinning.

“Ew, that was low, even for him.” you heard Ben in your earpiece.

“What do you do?” You pretended you didn’t hear that.

“I’m a businessman.” He swirled his mustache with his fingers.

“What kind of business is that you do?” you tried your best look less disgusted.

“None of it concerns your pretty head.” he smirked.

You cleared your throat and smiled to the man, continuing the small talk. It didn’t take more than 20 minutes, before he was persuading you go with him. You started to panic, because it never was in the plan to go anywhere with him, and you certainly could not fire a gun at him in the middle of the restaurant with all his men surrounding.

“This is going nowhere. He is taking her to the back room, Gwil.” Ben stared into the security cameras in the van.

“Okay, okay, relax. She’s got guns n everything.” Rami tried to convince him.

“Damn right she does. I’m going in.” Ben was ready to crash the whole thing.

“Hey, hey, hold on. You will not go in!” Joe pushed him back in his seat “You go in now, we blow the whole thing. She gets shot and you too.”

“Fuckign hell.” Ben kracked the knuckles of his hands.

“She has to get any information, but he. Fuck! He knows.” Gwil shout.

“See? Are we going in now?” Ben lifted his arms in the air.

“He hasn’t slipped a word, and they’re walking towards the back entrance! Go.Go.Go.!” Joe pushed everybody out the doors.

Meanwhile, you were about to faint, because the moment was coming. Either you shoot Manchini, or you get shot. He opened the backdoor for you and gestured you to step outside.

“There goes my life.” you murmured under your nose and took a hesitant step outside. You quickly realised there was nobody visible, you it looked like the perfect timing to draw your gun out and point it at Manchini. You didn’t get any information, but according to Gwil’s plan, if things turned south, you had to shoot him. You tried to be as quick as possible, but the gun got stuck and he was already staring at you when you lifted your eyes.

He laughed and then laughed again. You primary instincts told you step back and to run, but you drew the gun out anyways. Pointing it at Manchini, your hands were shaking.

“LAY DOWN!” you heard a scream followed by gunshots. You dropped to the ground and crawled behind a tank nearby.

It all happened so fast. All these shouting men and gunfire around you. You just closed your eyes and hoped it would all end. But it didn’t. It all became muted and shaky, your vision blurred out.

“This. Is for my sister!” Ben hit Manchini on the face with his fist.

“And this is for Joe!” he hit him in the other side.

Manchini spit his blood in Ben’s face “Her pussy smelled nice.”

“I”LL FUCKIN KILL YOUU!!” Joe came over Manchini and pushed Ben to the side. He started hitting him and punching him with all his force. The lust for vengeance had taken over both men, so they kept beating the shit outta him, before Ben took his gun and shot straight at his head.

“She shall rest in peace now.” Joe whispered, as a few burning tears streamed down his cheeks.

“I love you, little sister.” Ben muttered and tapped Joe on his arm.

“Let’s go.” Joe and Ben turned around and made their way to the van.

“Finally!” Gwil sarcastically remarked.

“Now that we’re all avenged and done with Manchini, we have this little problem.” Rami pointed at your unconscious body.

“Is she alive?” Ben lifted a brow, while brushing blood off his face.

“She’s just passed out. Will wake up soon.” Gwil concluded.

“Forgot, you were the doctor.” Rami made a sarcastic remark.

“A plastic surgeon, yes Nitro.” Gwilym calmly answered back.

“Poor thing.” Bet sat on the seat next to you and started examining your state.

Your dress was all dirty and ripped, your face had a few scratches and your hair was messed.

“Still pretty.” Ben muttered.

“You said something, boss?” Rami lifted a brow at Ben.

“Keep driving.” Ben answered.

“We all gotta get cleaned up, and prepare. Manchini’s men won’t hesitate to attack back at us for killing their leader.” Joe stated.

“At least she did help.” Ben looked quite bemused.

“Okay, boss?” Joe patted him on the shoulder.

“I’m fine. I’m more than fine, Joe. we did it. We avenged her.” Ben almost sobbed.

“Boss, you and Joe, deserve to take rest of the night off. We can take care of it.” Rami chimed in.

“Intend to.” Ben rubbed his eyes.

“Been forever, since a shower felt as nice.” Ben rested his head against the tiles on the wall. Closing his eyes he let it all pass though his body. Memories started bursting in, from the moment his sister fell dead in his arms, to her funeral. To Joe, his second hand and best friend. Ben felt sad about Joe, he wasn’t always like this. He was always the calm one, the mathematical one. Now he was something more of a monster than human. Ben then remembered when they brought you in. The corner of his mouth curved into half smile. He remembered how idiotically Joe and Gwilym brought you in. He then thought of you. You actually turned braver and tougher to get killed than he thought. “Impressed.” he muttered.

“Impressed by what?” Ben hear a voice, which startled him in place.

“Goddamnit, haven’t you heard of knockin?” Ben angrily turned around “How did you even get in here?”

“The boys let me in.” Gracie started taking her mini dress off.

“Go home.” he shooed her out.

“I can help.” She stepped closer to the shower.

“No need. Not tonight.” Ben passed her and wrapped a towel around his waist. He barged out of the bathroom, passed along his penthouse and went straight into the warehouse. Gracie ran after him. Just on the corridor, she saw you looking at Ben passing by and then at her.

You had just woken up a few moments ago and were looking for Ben and his men. Somehow the whole scene hit you. It hit you hard. You didn’t even know why you felt so intimidated. Was it his wet naked muscular body, or was it the fact that a woman ran after him? You had so many questions. Nothing had happened between you two, you just shared a moment, a kiss. “This meant nothing” you muttered to yourself, while returning back to the room you woke up.

It all felt so strange, you couldn't quote figure were you angry, jealous, or it was just the adrenaline from earlier that night.

“Explanation. NOW!” Ben hit his fist on the table.

“Easy tiger.” Rami spoke first.

“I don’t need no babysitting. Understood? And I certainly don’t need any of you to tell me when I need sex!” He stormed off the room and returned to his flat upstairs.

On the terrace he saw you.

“Needed to get away from everything for a moment. I’ll leave right away. Wouldn’t bother you and your girlfriend.” your turned around and passed by Ben.

“Wait.” he stopped you, grabbing your arm “She’s not my girlfriend.” his words were stone cold.

“Whatever she is, is something to you. And I’m not, so I’ll leave you now.” You tried to pull your arm away from him, but instead he pulled you in.

With one swift move you you were wrapped around his arms, your noses barely touching. You both closed your eyes and felt each other���s heartbeat for a moment, before you lifted yourself on your toes and pressed your lips against his. They felt warm, hot even, like a thousand butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.

“I only want you.” Ben muttered against your lips and pulled away to look in your eyes. You looked back at him. All fear and darkness was gone. His green eyes were vibrant, almost watery. You nodded and kissed him again. This time he kissed you more passionately than before and wrapped his arm around your chest, lifting you easily. Your hands flew to his neck buried in his hair, you tucked on it, when you hear him silently moan against your lips.

Your breathing got heavier when he ran his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for permission. You gladly opened your mouth and let his tongue devour you. Your tongue played in synchronised rhythm with his, like you always knew exactly how to kiss each other. His palm was cupping your chin and cheek, while the other held you tight by your lower back.

Both of you walked backwards until hitting the dining table. Ben flipped you over and pressed you against it. His forehead resting against yours, you both needed to catch a breath.

“I need to have you.” he spoke through his teeth, as if he was restraining himself.

“You’ve got me.” You placed your hand over his cheek and kissed him passionately once again. He didn’t waste much time to hop you on the table and spread your legs apart. Situating himself between your thighs, he kept kissing you. His hands were roaming your back, before sliding one between your bodies. He rubbed your stomach before sliding it up under your shirt to your breasts. His hand rubbed your nipple and grabbed your breast. Meanwhile, his lips moved to the soft skin underneath your chin. His tongue traced your collarbone and licked small kisses on your sternum.

“Ben…” you moaned quietly, letting your head fall back, as both of his hands were now playing with your breasts.

“Where you’ve been all this time…” he murmured pepping kisses all over your chest and in the valley between your breasts.

You let another moan, pushing yourself up in his brace, while one arm kept you stable, and the other tugging on his hair.

“Call me SirBen groaned pushing your skirt up and pressing two fingers against your clit.

“Sir…” You whined, pushing yourself firmer against his fingers just to get more friction where you needed it the most.

He hissed and licked his lips, lowering his head to your neck, he sucked on your sensitive skin, while his fingers were agonsiligly rubbing your core through your knickers.

“P-please, sir.” You whined.

“What do you want?” He dunked his teeth into your neck, but then quickly swiped his tongue over the area.

“Need you.” You breathed out.

“Need me what? You gotta talk to me, Fantasia.” Ben kept the same agonisingly slow movements over your soaking underwear.

“I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard.” You sank your nails into his scalp.

He growled and pulled away from you. With one swift move, the towel around his waist fell to the floor. You couldn’t help but stare at his hard cock and wonder how big it is, that you involuntary were biting your lip.

He stepped between your legs and spread then further again. Cupping your cheeks with his large hands, he kissed you, like the first time.

Your hands automatically slid down between your bodies and reached his rock hard cock. Wrapping gently your finger around the tip, your thumb smeared all the leaking pre cum around. He grunted at your touch and his head onto your shoulder. You slowly dragged your hand along his length, while your other hand kept his head on your shoulder, where his lips were sucking a hickey.

“This is so good.” he grunted against your neck “But you gotta stop of I’ll cum before I can feel you.” he grabbed your hand from his cock and brought it to the side.

“Let’s keep those nice and open.” he made sure your legs were wide apart.

Ben slipped his hand south of your belly and ran his finger between your wet lips.

“You’re glistenin” he softly chuckled, before closing the distance between your bodies with a kiss. His finger rubbed gentle circles on your sensitive clit, until you were trembling for more.

He then put two fingers inside you, instantly curing them upwards, hitting the perfect spot right away.

“Fuck.” you moaned “right there…”

“Hmm.” he grinned widely, before abruptly removing his fingers and situating his cock on your entrance “Ready for me?”

“Yes. Yes!” you eagerly nodded.

Ben pushed all the way in, with one swift move, as you both grunted at the friction, you both were anticipating.

“Fuck. You’re tight.” Ben groaned.

“I think, you’re just too big.” You almost laughed “Fuck me, Sir!” you whined.

“As you wish baby.” he licked his lips and held your legs. Getting a more comfortable, position, he was able to thrust in and out of you with ease.

You were both a grunting, growling mess after a few mintues, you couldn’t take it any more.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum. Please Sir, let me come.” you begged.

“Because you asked so nicely and because you were such a good girl, you can come.” he spoke between each breath.

Ben leaned in closer and whispered in your ear “I want you come on my cock, and i want you to squeeze that tight pussy for me.”

It was all you needed to hear to let go. And you did come hard, with a screaming orgasm. Your body quivering, shaking from the overwhelming pleasure. Your cunt kept pulsating, even after the waves of hot and cold washed down.

“My turn.” Ben leaned in, extending his arm over your shoulder to keep himself above you, and cupped your chin with the other. He kissed you passionately while chasing his own orgasm until he released.

“Fuck.” he growled, as he kept thursting, passionately ramming in you, like the world was about to end.

“Fuck, fuck!” you cried out, as a second orgasm rushed in without warning. You squivered and shaked, while he was still kissing you.

After a few more moments he pulled away, as you both were trying to catch your breath.

“Oh my god.” you panted.

“You are amazing. Do you even know the pleasure you gave me?” Ben helped you get off the table.

“Not bad yourself.” you chuckled.

“Come here.” he pulled you in his lap. He brushed your hair behind your ear, as you sat across his thighs. Your arms wrapped around his neck, as you let your chin rest on his shoulder.

“Can we go to bed now?” you chuckled “I’m pretty drained.”

“Oh you definitely are staying with me tonight, and the coming nights as well.”

Ben held you in his arms and carried you to the bedroom. Placing like fine glass on the black satin sheets, he observed you.

“Whaat?” you felt shy.

“You are fantastic. My Fantasia.” Ben crawled over and cuddled you in his brace. “You did amazing today. And I don’t just mean the sex. I mean all of it.” he kissed your neck.

“I did?” you softly spoke.

“You were so brave during the mission. And it was your first job as a rightful member of my gang. ”

“Wait. I am in? As in…?” you turned around to look at his face, because you were pretty sure was joking.  

“You earned your vote on the table.” he poked gently your nose. “And it wasn’t your sex skills that brought you the promotion.” he sarcastically stated.

“Hey.” you pouted your lips.

“Though it certainly helped.” he kissed your lips.

“Let’s sleep now. We got important things to take care of in the morning.” he snuggled you closer, which was all you needed to drift off to a well deserved sleep.

________

A/n: Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate any kind of feedback, so please feel free to like, comment, reblog, as much as your heart desires.

Also, make sure you check out the posters for the fic in my blog.

#staylovely

[battleshell]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. tagged by: @dansiere whom im care tagging: extremely informative meme for ppl who have lots of cross-over interactions, i encourage u to steal it from me anyway BUT @sternenteile​ @twelvians​ @stellamris​ @grandtales​

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [ he is a very, very minor NPC that i’ve essentially wrested from the game with my grubby hands; Gerson is a merchant NPC found in Waterfall, the third area of the game focused with water themes. he has less than 100 lines of dialogue (but jam-packed full of info) and doesn’t even have an overworld sprite. although noted to have a history with multiple major characters, it’s not often i’ve seen him be the main focus of any fanfics or art pieces. ]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. [ put that faaaaaaaar away from me please tyty ]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. [ i personally believe that Gerson is a strong and potentially powerful monster with fighting capability that could rival some of the stronger Monsters in the Underground due to his background as a fighter during the Human-Monster War, but since has waned in both reputation and fighting skill. we never fight him in game and as such, will never see how he compares numerically, but it’s clear from his dialogue that he knows how to fight professionally/cleverly and would have given a hard challenge. ]

Are they underrated?  YES / NO / IDK. [ i mentioned before that Gerson has ties with lots of major characters - I hardly see it being put into action or talked about! i also have a soft spot for elder/older characters in general since they seem to be overlooked in favor for younger characters that carry the action of plots - which I understand and totally get, but I still like to put these characters out there for the sake of it ]

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [ he was a funny merchant dude that said “wahaha” a whole bunch of times and carried a magnifying glass; sure he and Frisk would have been good friends after the golden ending but most people have forgotten about their interaction with Gerson once out of Waterfall ]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. [ as one of the older if not oldest Monsters in the Underground, or from his reputation as the “Hammer of Justice” from wartime. he is also a historian and is noted to have written a few of the books in the Librarby. definitely known in the Underground, but probably only in that community ]

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ as mentioned before, a benefactor to the community and maybe even a sagely figure. a source of wisdom (even if cheeky) and a person of stability ]

How strictly do you follow canon?  — ehhhhhhhhhh both extremely canon compliant and then hands off the wheel, let jesus drive me away~ i only have so much canon material to work with so i have milked as much as offered to me, then went off to forge my own path in order to patch up the missing holes then add a few sprinkles. the base of the character is all there, but if you really want to get invested with him (or me) then we have a lot to walk through.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  old tortoise (NOT TURTLE) guy sells knick-knacks and cracks jokes, knows everyone’s dirty secrets but thinks they’re just funny to think about them than use them. an elder in the community who has stories to tell and lessons to teach, who has lived through half of recorded history and now spends his time just trying to make things around him interesting. a war veteran who protects his community and understands the horror of the world, but keeps eyes looking into the future even in the face of grimness itself. plays the accordion and harmonica, could probably square dance if he knew what that was. will call you kiddo.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  little to no motivation to find a passion for himself that would benefit or service just himself; his entire sense of worth comes from servicing others in some way (being a soldier and protecting people; recording history in order to teach future generations; maintaining a shop in order to literally service others) and lack of action due to decrepitude in old age. close-minded compared to other Monsters, as he doesn’t actually take to think of humans or outsiders kindly; judgmental to the point of being racist. proud and dislikes being one-upped that it could lead to pettiness, and despite his positive outlooks, very pessimistic worldview.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  funfact: Gerson is my first tumblr RP muse ever, and since i was worried about duplicate anxiety when i first started i specifically wrote him since he was a smaller character with less attention - i’ve since learned i have no anxiety about it so it’s no longer a problem, but what keeps me going today is the challenge of writing someone so different from me. the elder aesthetic along with homely, almost cottagecore kind of vibe is also appealing, and the humor that comes with gerson is a joy to write out.

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  reading literature, music, artwork, pinterest, replaying the game, and doing little hobbies that would embody the character (collecting or sewing, for example) are things i can do by myself, but with other people i have the most drive when i can have friendly and nonpersonal arguments/debates about character motives or about source material like what made a character act like this or that, or about really anything as long as it makes me seriously think about characters critically and force me to recognize flaws.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? [ unfortunately i’m not a tortoise monster who lived for probably centuries if not decades older than myself, but i enjoy writing older characters and hope that other ppl see the potential gerson has like i do ]

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO / SORT OF? [ you know when you have a concept and in your own mind you can see it clearly, without fuzziness or confusion, but you can’t seem to put it clearly into words without it turning into an essay because you need to connect all the other points that’s in the single concept you envisioned? yea. ]

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO [ bro i should.. ]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [ hmu if you got pinterest and i’ll give u tons and tons of boards ]

Are you confident in your portrayal?  YES / NO / SORT OF? [ this is unfair to answer as (AFAIK) i am the only person writing Gerson in... any capacity. despite that i like to think i bring out the humorous side of him, and show ppl that he and other NPCs are tons of potentials and shouldn’t be overlooked because they aren’t popular ]

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. [ i always believed my style and my skill in not only PSDs or aesthetics, but analysis or understanding was always a bit plain, without much flourish or complexity. while that is appealing on its own and has its own merits, i can’t help but feel i can always push myself to do a little more, add a little flavor, or paint an image that could only be done in writing. although i am doing enough to get the job done, i’m searching for a certain voice of writing that i like and want to integrate into creative writing in order to make it more personalized and more engaging. ]

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. / SORTA. [ i despise pussyfooting and will often tell ppl straight up if i have a problem with them or something about them; straightforwardness, honesty, and integrity are some of my core values and that includes being harsh if it comes to it in order to keep order ]

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  —  assuming it’s rooted in goodwill or from a point of analysis, absolutely! it’s one of the direct sources for growth and getting better at any craft, but as Tumblr loves to be.... jumpy, i’m always cautious when its not from someone i know.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  —  YEA BUDDYYYYY

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  absolutely, i thrive off friendly discourse as i mentioned.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  if we don’t discuss it as above, in lit any other case i’d say “well there are other blogs to follow” but since i’m like 99% sure i’m the only gerson blog that isn’t applicable lmao; the point still stands that everyone has the freedom to write a character as they wish. there are valid reasons to dislike a portayal but not a lot of valid reasons to attack someone for it - with the exception of ppl being gross. stop that, nasty.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  —  strangely. it’s not my job to make people like a character, you either like them or not. if you dislike them for unreasonable points then, to leave in the previous response, “clowns will be clowns, no matter what you do. I just don’t get why you would follow someone if you hate their character to begin with.”

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  of course, as long as it’s polite and all that jazz!

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   —  depends on the meaning - i like making new friends and i find it easy to talk to new people, be it about roleplay or other things like organizing video game play sessions. however, i also have on multiple occasions have approached ppl privately saying “this is annoying/this is problematic/this is inappropriate, stop” and been met with general disdain for voicing such so Who Knows..... (tm). at least on a private level. here, publicly, i’m pretty relaxed! memes and jokes are abound. as long as a person can be mature and responsible for their actions we can vibe, yo.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

my heart is hitting the ground (Chapter Two)

Second part of my Urban Fantasy/College AU for widomauk! A huge and sincere thanks to @minky-for-short for talking me through writer’s block and reminding me what colour Mollymauk’s eyes are when I forgot :’) Also thanks to my ever patient girlfriend @soft-bram for letting me go on and on about Critical Role all the time. 

And the biggest thanks ever to @rabdoidal who inspired this whole fic with his incredible fan art which I really just can’t get enough of, he’s an insanely talented artist

Please reblog and let me know what you thought, feedback really means a lot to writers

First Chapter | Ao3 | Ko-fi

Mollymauk had apparently learned nothing from last week when the pen he was chewing thoughtfully on cracked in his mouth and spilled ink over his tongue, staining it a colour not far from the colour of his skin for nearly a day. He just couldn’t help it, especially not when the random scraps of lyrics he had floating around in his brain were stubbornly refusing to properly arrange themselves into a song. He sighed in frustration at the journal page, still blank after half an hour, and rearranged himself on the sofa he was currently splayed across, throwing one leg over the back of it and flicking his tail idly from side to side, as if that would rattle something loose.

“You can do that in your room you know,” Yasha commented flatly from the kitchen table, not looking up from her breakfast or her newspaper.

“I like the light better in here!” Molly insisted, arching back off the arm of the sofa so he could eye her from upside down, “And besides, what’s the point of sighing if no one hears me?”

“What indeed…” his roommate muttered, rolling her eyes. Not that she’d expected anything else from him, “I just wouldn’t spend too much time on that couch, is all. It’s probably got fleas or something, I found it on the end of the block. Didn’t get a chance to clean it yet.”

Molly wrinkled his nose, jumping up so quickly he nearly ran into the coffee table, “Yasha! You promised me no more street furniture!”

“Hey,” Yasha jerked her spoon at him, “I carried that single handed all the way up to this apartment so some appreciation would be nice.”

Molly stuck his tongue out at her as he folded his lanky body into the chair across from her, slapping his notebook down between them, as if that was going to jostle the odd words and phrases into a proper song.

Yasha pulled a face, “Look, I’ll stop getting couches off the street if you start wearing some damn clothes around here.”

Molly huffed and twitched the silk robe he was wearing (sort of wearing) until it covered a little more of his chest and thighs, knotting it loosely. As far as he was concerned, a pair of underwear and a robe was perfectly acceptable attire for noon on a Sunday but he knew better than to push Yasha too far. She could pick him up all the way off the floor if she wanted to.

He ran his fingers through his bedraggled hair, lying tangled around his horns in the way it always did without nearly an hour of dedicated grooming in front of the bathroom mirror. “I’m having a brain block,” he announced grandly, trying to get his roommate’s attention back on him.

“Are you now?” Yasha didn’t sound particularly interested as she flicked a page over idly, wondering how her attempts to get him to go to his room had been interpreted as an invitation to disrupt her morning even further.

“I am,” Molly frowned, splaying across the table to see if he could get in her eyeline, “I’m having feelings, Yash, big feelings. But they won’t turn into songs. If I can’t properly channel my emotions into my art, I’m never going to be a successful musician.”

Yasha flashed him a look, making no effort to hide her exasperation, “You know, I bet most successful musicians don’t spend their time lounging all over their apartments in their underwear. Maybe actually doing something would help. Like sorting the laundry you said you’d do three days ago or actually getting some fresh air and natural sunlight. You could come to the gym with me? Endorphins, man.”

Molly clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Not a great idea. Hooked up with the guy at the front desk and haven’t called him back.”

Yasha pinched the bridge of her nose, scowling, “I told you…I fucking told you that was a bad idea,  if I have to avoid another place because of you, I can’t keep up…”

The tiefling drowned out her grumbling with another world-weary sigh, not in the mood to hear her opinions on his love life yet again, “I just feel so…out of sorts…” he slapped his hand on the table decisively, as if struck by an ingenious realisation, nearly upending the vase of flowers, “I should smoke some more weed! That always gets the lyrics flowing!”

Defeated, the newspaper was flipped closed and a pair of heavy lidded, mismatched eyes fixed sternly on Molly. In signing up to be his roommate, after a few months of working together at the community theatre, she hadn’t realised she’d also become his guitarist, his life coach, his impulse control and his guardian angel as well. It wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted but Molly cooked like a dream and didn’t keep her up all night so she’d learned to stomach it.

“Kay,” she told him sternly, “We’re gonna swap out the drugs for a more socially acceptable one and get you out of the apartment. Go fetch some coffee.”

The tiefling’s face fall, “Aw, come on, it’s not my turn! ! And besides, I hate ordering for you, the barista looks at me like I’m crazy when I ask for six espresso shots in one cup…”

“Bullshit, I went the day before yesterday.”

The two stared at each other, Molly’s restless red eyes fixed on Yasha’s heavily eyeliner ringed ones. After a few moments, they both shrugged holding out their fists and tapping them three times against the table. Yasha threw scissors, Molly threw paper.

He wailed at his defeat, “You always go scissors!”

She arched her eyebrow at him, “Then why don’t you always go rock, smart guy?”

He had no answer to that but to reach over and knock her paper off the table, like a particularly ornery cat, before getting up and flouncing off in a whirl of embroidered black silk and a flash of a middle finger, slamming the door to his bedroom for good measure.

Yasha huffed out a low rumbling chuckle as the noise of the moodiest shower ever taken echoed through their tiny, cramped apartment. She wondered briefly if her idiot of a best friend was actually going to realise what was bothering him so much, what was written so clearly on his face and in the way he’d been fidgeting all over the place for hours now.

If he didn’t catch on soon, she was going to have to tell him. No way in hell she was dealing with a moony eyed, love struck Mollymauk for much longer.

Knowing how much he hated the cold and seeing the fractal dusting of frost clinging to the outside of his tiny window, Molly dressed accordingly in billowy harem pants and a tight turtleneck sweater which was a bitch to get over his horns but he looked so good in it, it was decidedly worth it. As he tamed his hair, his sharp face illuminated by the fairy lights he wound around his mirror, he found his thoughts drifting away from the soft song emanating from his aged little radio, even though it was a favourite, and back to last night.

It had been a pretty good gig, all things considered. The crowd was a little thin but that was always true of their shows no matter how many flyers Molly hopefully pasted in the windows of the borough book shops and music shops and all over the academy’s campus. The underground bar didn’t have a dry ice machine, which was a little disappointing but he’d remembered all the words and Yasha hadn’t missed a single note, as dependable as she ever was. It was the kind of gig he usually firmly told himself afterwards, usually after patronising the bar itself and blowing most of their fee, would just be a stepping stone to bigger and better things.

So why couldn’t he get the night out of his head?

Well, there was that guy.

The guy with the long hair and the cute, if a little indistinguishable, accent and the look of someone who’d ran through a thrift shop with a blindfold on to choose his clothes. Molly had never actually had someone approach him after any of his shows, much less someone who’d actually praised his songs rather than asking him to keep it down. Sure, the guy had been plastered and swayed where he was standing but Molly was taking all the positive feedback he could get right now.

And he’d asked for his number. And honestly, past the slurring that meant he wasn’t sure if his name was Caleb or Callum and the spilling some of his loosely held drink on Molly’s boots, it was a face he’d be more than happy to see in daylight.

Molly turned the brush wrong, distracted, and accidentally yanked on his hair, making him hiss in pain. Sighing he tossed it over his shoulder and shrugged into his coat.

He was being stupid. As much as Yasha had teased him about the guy, asking if that was the future Mr Tealeaf he was talking to, finally found after all this searching, Molly had only flicked her with his tail and rolled his eyes, insisting that the prospect of that name would send him running for sure, if nothing else did. And it wasn’t like much searching had ever gone on, there was no sense in searching for something that didn’t exist. As nice as it would be.

The tiefling winced at the cold as he left their apartment building and began to stride as fast as he could through the nearly empty streets, everyone else clearly having something far better to be doing with their Sunday. The frost and the wind froze the last of his hope from the night before. Most likely the cute guy had woken up, probably with a gross taste in his mouth and a pounding headache, regretting their conversation with a passion. Most likely Mollymauk had been given up as a bad decision, and not for the first time in his life, lined up along with those last few whiskeys he’d noticed the guy knocking back.

Molly remembered noting it with appreciation, whiskey was such a pleasant thing to taste in a kiss…

He sighed, heading for the café they always frequented, just a few blocks away. Maybe next time.

[emospritelet]

Empty Corridors

It’s @wipweek and it’s AU WIP day, and so I’m posting the first chapter (3,717 words) of my new Golden Lace fic (Once Upon a Time).  The fic will be rated E eventually, but I’d say it’s currently T-M due to some of the themes.  The title is from a Ben Howard song of the same name, which I was listening to tonight and which completely fits the vibe of this story.  I can see myself getting very frustrated with these two.

AO3 link

Lacey French bent a little lower over the pool table, huffing a strand of chestnut hair out of her eyes as she lined up her shot, one final red ball remaining on the table against her opponent’s three.  She had missed the last shot, and she was blaming hunger for her lack of focus.  It was way past lunchtime, and she hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast either, unless coffee and Oreos counted.  Drinking shots and playing pool probably wasn’t the best use of her afternoon, but then time had no meaning in The Rabbit Hole, so she figured she may as well try to lift the boredom of living in Storybrooke in one of the few ways she knew.  The bar itself was windowless and dimly-lit, an underground pit reeking of stale beer, cheap body spray and desperation.  Her shoes were sticking to the floor as she moved, and she wrinkled her nose, looking along the shining length of the cue.

“A little lower, sweet cheeks!”

Lacey looked over her shoulder, scowling, and a dark-haired man raised his beer glass, winking at her.  Keith Nott was a lech, if a good-looking one.  She had kissed him once, but he was too creepy for her to want to take it beyond that.  Besides, he was the type to tell the entire bar exactly how far he got with a woman, and she had no desire to have her skills discussed by his drunken friends.  Keith put his head to the side, miming lifting a skirt, and she curled her lip.

“In your dreams!” she said witheringly, and he scowled.

“Don’t be such an uptight bitch, I’m only playing around.”

“Yeah, well I’m not.”

She turned back to her shot, eyeing Tom Clark and hoping he wouldn’t sneeze at a critical moment.  He was watching her nervously, twisting his own pool cue in his hands.  A pile of dollar bills sat on the edge of the table, weighted down with the chalk.  Twenty bucks to the winner.  She needed to take this game if she was to stand any chance of making rent.  Okay, she needed to win about a dozen more similar games, but at least this would be a start.  A pity the bar was almost empty; she had no one lined up after Tom, and Keith had refused to play against her after she beat him three times in a row.

She let the cue slide over her fingers as she lined up the shot.  A sharp strike, and her ball rattled the edges of the top right hand pocket before dropping in.  Lacey let out a breath, straightening up, and Tom groaned, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

“Sorry, buddy,” she said, grinning, and he sighed.

“You’re a damn hustler,” he grumbled, but winked at her, and she smirked and picked up the money.

“Another game?” she asked.  “Go on, winner takes all!”

“Do i look like I have money to burn?” he asked.  “Maybe next time, Lacey.”

He put his cue on the table and wandered off again, and she sighed, pocketing the money.  Twenty bucks to add to what I have at home.  Only another two hundred and ten to go!

She tried not to panic at the thought of how much money she had still to find, and how little time she had to find it.  Work had been thin on the ground these past few weeks, and the cash she usually put aside to make her rent for the next month just hadn’t been there.  She had her reasons for not having the cash, what she thought were good reasons, but Mr Gold wasn’t known for his generosity in granting extensions, and she was getting desperate.

A shadow moved out from behind one of the pillars, the light shining along the dark length of a cane before picking out the shape of a man.  A short, thin man in a dark suit, which she suspected had cost more than he charged her for three months’ rent combined.  His hair hung around his face, shining silver at his temples, and she licked her lips, suddenly wary.  Speak of the devil…

Mr Gold glanced at her, his face impassive, a glint of something unfamiliar in his dark eyes.  On any other man she would have thought it was hunger, desire, but Gold wasn’t like that.  At least not as far as she knew.  Say what you wanted about him (and people did), he wasn’t a creep.  Not in that way.  She suspected he could smell fear on people though, and could taste lies in the air.  Money was all he seemed to care about, and being Storybrooke’s only landlord gave him power over pretty much everyone in town.

She imagined he enjoyed his status, but there was a tiny part of her that suspected that he had once been as poor and powerless as she.  There was an air of darkness about him, of ancient pain and loss and violence, a wall of shadows that no one could get through.  Perhaps that was why he had closed himself off from everyone in town, wrapped in his silk shirts and fine suits and hoarding the beautiful things in his shop like some sort of ageless dragon that was too weary to roar and burn its way across the town it had once terrorised.  She wondered if there had ever been anyone in his life that he loved, but she dismissed the thought almost at once.  He was always alone, and it seemed that he preferred it that way.  Probably into some weird, kinky shit anyway, she thought, and snickered.  He raised an eyebrow.

“Something amusing you, Miss French?”

He always talked that way.  Calm, polite, and at the same time sounding as though he could kill you with a teaspoon if he had to.  It was kind of sexy if she thought about it for too long.

“Only my own weird thoughts, Mr Gold,” she said carelessly, and stood with a hip cocked to the side, leaning on the pool table.  “I was wondering whether you play pool.  Twenty bucks says I can beat you.”

“I believe today is the day you give me money,” he said dryly.  “I have no interest in reversing our roles.”

She chewed her lip.  Dammit!

“Sure, no worries,” she said, shrugging.  “I have a few hours left, right?”

“You have until the shop closes at six,” he said.  “You’re well aware of my charges for late payments, I’m sure.”

“Is there anyone in this town who isn’t?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Six o’clock, Miss French.”

“Okay, okay, I heard you the first time!”  She rolled her eyes.  “Let a girl finish her drink, at least.”

“Oh, by all means,” he said sardonically.  “Don’t let me stand in the way of your developing alcoholism.”

He stepped past her, heading for the bar, and Lacey glared at his back.

“Asshole!” she muttered, as she turned back to the pool table.  The whisper of what felt like wind at her back made her shiver, and all of a sudden the air was too thick to breathe, catching in her throat as the spicy scent of cologne drifted into her nose.

“What was that, Miss French?”

Lacey yelped at the sound of his voice in her ear, at the feel of his breath on her skin, and she staggered, one arm flying out to the side to steady herself.  A soft chuckle made her blood boil, and she spun on the balls of her feet to face him.  Gold was very, very close, his eyes glinting wickedly, and she squared her jaw.

“You almost made me jump out of my skin!” she snapped, and he raised an eyebrow, gold tooth glinting in the light.

“Humble apologies,” he said softly.  “I could have sworn you said something to me, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

She glared at him, and his grin widened a little as he looked her up and down, the gold tooth on his lower jaw flashing in the light.

“I can always take that rent payment now,” he said lazily, and she sniffed, trying to look down her nose at him.

“You’ll get it when I bring it over.”

“Six o’clock,” he said, his voice soft.  “Don’t make me come looking for you, Miss French.”

There was a warning in his voice, darkness swathed in a soft accent and low tones, and she shivered.  Great, now he has me marked!  Why the hell couldn’t I keep my fucking mouth shut?

“I won’t,” she said, wondering how the hell she was going to get out of this.  “I’ll be there before you close up.”

“The anticipation is almost too much to bear.”

He gave her a small bow, still grinning, and swaggered off, his cane tapping on the floor.  Strange that he could be silent as death when he wanted to be.  She watched him warily as he approached the nervous-looking bartender, and glanced around.  The few patrons that had been there before Gold’s arrival had mysteriously disappeared, and she hissed in frustration.

Two hundred and ten dollars.  How the hell am I gonna come up with that in two hours?

“You have to be kidding me,” said Ruby flatly, stacking glasses on a tray.  “Where do you think I’m hiding that kind of cash?  Down my bra?”

“Rubes, I’m desperate!” Lacey pleaded, leaning on one of the diner tables.

“I get that, honey, but I can’t help you.”  Ruby slammed the glasses down with a little more force than was necessary.  “Tips have been crappy the past few weeks, and I had to get the car serviced.  There’s only so much work Billy can do for free before his boss gets suspicious.”

“Dammit!”  Lacey pushed herself upright again, chewing her lip, and Ruby put her head to the side.

“What do you need it for, anyway?” she asked curiously, and Lacey grimaced.

“Rent,” she admitted, and Ruby’s eyes widened.

“You don’t have the rent?”

“I know, I know!”  Lacey began to pace, high heels clicking.  “I thought I could make more cash playing pool, but the guys haven’t really been around.”

Ruby shot her a knowing look.

“You mean they’ve all realised you’re a much better player than they thought?” she said dryly.  “Might want to switch to poker or something.”

“I can worry about that tomorrow,” said Lacey, still pacing.  “Right now I need to find two hundred and ten bucks or Gold’s gonna flip his shit.  Any thoughts?”

Ruby shrugged, lifting the tray of glasses.

“Beyond offering to blow him?  Sorry.”

“Ruby!”

“You asked.”

Ruby sauntered off to the kitchen with the tray, and Lacey sighed.  A quick glance at the clock showed the seconds ticking by.  Less than an hour now.  There was no one else she could ask.  No one who’d be willing to help, anyway.  She hadn’t spoken to her father in months, and if she turned up asking for money it would only make things worse between them.  Not that he ever had any; she was pretty sure he would be hiding from Gold himself that evening.  Ruby had been her last, forlorn hope.

Huffing in frustration, she stomped out of the diner, shoving her hands into the pockets of the little jacket she wore.  She shivered; it was almost October, and she supposed it was time to wear something that covered her a bit more.  Her tiny dress left little to the imagination.  She hurried along the street, scowling up at the clock tower, which was permanently stuck at eight-fifteen.  What a pity she herself couldn’t freeze time.  She reached her tiny apartment, trotting up the stairs and ducking inside to find her stash of money, wedged between the pages of a hardback edition of Persuasion.  Counting it again made no difference to the amount she had.  Still two hundred and ten short.  Sighing to herself, she stuffed the wad of cash into the inside pocket of the jacket.  There was nothing for it.  She was going to have to ask Gold for an extension.

She hurried along the street, head down, nodding impatiently to anyone that spoke to her.  The shop sign was lit, and she heaved a breath as she pushed open the door, the bell jingling cheerfully.  Gold’s shop was silent, and seemingly empty, and she looked around for a moment, her eyes running over the myriad objects set on shelves.  Entering his shop had always felt like stepping back in time, and not just because it was filled with antiques.  It was something about the air in the place, the scent of beeswax and old paper and the dust of ages past, the polished floor of dark wood and the old glass counters.  Even the lamps seemed dimmer than they ought to be, beautiful shades in hand-painted silk and jewel-coloured frosted glass, spilling light the colour of old gold across the polished surfaces of dressers and shelves.  Clocks ticked on the walls, their tone low and calm, and she took a step further inside, peering at a shelf of old books with cloth-bound covers.

“Miss French.”

His voice made her jump again, and she turned to the back of the shop.  Gold had slipped silently into the room, and was standing behind the counter with his hands braced on the tips of splayed fingers, watching her.  He wasn’t wearing his jacket, and gold sleeve garters encircled his arms just below the elbows, pushing the black silk shirt up a little.  She swallowed hard, and raised her chin.

“Hey,” she said, walking to the counter and digging in her pocket.

She slapped the roll of money down in front of him, and he eyed her as he reached out, long fingers folding around it with a muted crackle of paper and pulling it towards him.  For a moment she thought about just leaving, but he had spoken the truth earlier.  He would come looking for her.  The thought made her shiver, and she was surprised to find that the feeling wasn’t completely unpleasant.  Gold licked his thumb, flicking through the bills.  He looked up at the end, dark eyes fixed on hers, and she held her breath.

“It’s short,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she said.  “I know it is, I - I don’t have the rest.”

“Why ever not?”

“Work was kind of patchy this month,” she admitted.  “And - and I had some expenses.  I just couldn’t get it all together, I’m sorry.”

Gold braced his hands on the counter again, shoulders hunching a little, watching her steadily.

“And yet when I saw you earlier this evening, you seemed to be drinking whisky and playing pool,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“I was trying to make money!” she said.  “I can usually win twenty bucks a game, but hardly anyone wants to play me anymore.  It’s not like I haven’t tried to find the rent, it’s just - well, I’m not a magician.”

Gold drummed the fingers of one hand on the counter, a slow, rhythmic, somehow ominous sound.  She licked her lips nervously, and he sucked in a breath, his dark eyes fixed on hers.  He didn’t seem to blink as often as normal people.

“You’ve always been one of my more reliable tenants, Miss French,” he said at last.  “Unlike your father.  I have no doubt I’ll hear the same pathetic excuses when I visit him to collect later this evening.”

Lacey folded her arms.  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know,” she grumbled.  “We don’t exactly talk much.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.”

He sounded amused, as though he knew something he shouldn’t, and it was grating on her, but the mention of her father had triggered a memory.  A memory of when she had once thought Gold might not be the bastard everyone made him out to be.

“Dad still hasn’t forgiven you for evicting him that time,” she added.  “That was when I moved out.  You let me rent my apartment, remember?”

“I did.”

She hesitated, unsure whether he wanted to pretend that he hadn’t offered that to her for less than it was worth.  He’d said it was because it was damp, but she had never found any damp in there.  Or seen any sign of the ghost that was supposed to haunt the place.

“I didn’t have the deposit,” she said.  “And you said I could pay it in instalments.  Thirty extra bucks every week.”

“Your memory is flawless,” he said dryly.  “I trust this doesn’t mean that you plan on taking advantage of my generous nature, Miss French.”

She almost choked at that, her eyes wide.  Generous?  His mouth had pulled up at one corner, as though he was amused by making her squirm.  As though he wanted to see her beg.  Fuck him if he thinks I’ll give him the satisfaction.

“Actually, I was thinking that we have a history,” she said, giving him her best smile.  “A history where I promised to pay you back, and I did.  See how that works?”

Gold raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

“You promised to pay me when you signed the rental agreement,” he said.  “I may have made an exception regarding the deposit due to you being barely more than a child, but that was some years ago.  You are now an adult, with all the responsibilities that entails.  The exception no longer applies.”

“Dammit, Gold!”

Lacey took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper in check, and his twisted smile grew a little more.

“So you won’t budge even a tiny bit?” she said.  “I can’t make rent, I can’t stay, is that it?”

“Well, you’ll have time to gather your things, of course,” he said easily.  “I need to serve you with notice, after all.  You know the rules, Miss French.”

“I know you’re a fucking bastard!”

“Oh my!”  He chuckled, looking amused.  “I ask for you to adhere to our agreement, which you fail to do and it’s me that’s unreasonable?”

Lacey leaned on the counter, so close she could smell his cologne again.  She was well aware that the angle gave him an excellent view down the front of her dress.  His eyes flicked over her, so quickly that if she hadn’t been watching for it, she wouldn’t have noticed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she let her voice lower in cadence.  “That was rude, I just - I can’t bear to think about going back to my dad’s place, that’s all.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” said Gold, his eyes glinting.  “From the look of the place, you’d spend all your time cleaning up after him.  The flower shop is all he cares about.”  He lifted a hand, spreading his fingers.  “Well, that and cheap whisky.”

“At least he’s family,” she said.  “I’m his daughter, his only kid.  That - that has to mean something, right.”

“Apparently not, as far as he’s concerned,” he said, and she felt herself bristle.

“I know he’s not gonna win any prizes for World’s Greatest Father,” she said, “but it’s not like I have anyone else to turn to.”

Gold shrugged.

“Move back home if you want,” he said.  “I highly suspect you’ll be begging me for your old apartment back within two weeks, but perhaps I’m just a pessimist when it comes to Moe French.”

Lacey pushed back from the counter, hands on hips.

“Look, if anyone’s gonna insult that bastard, it’s gonna be me!” she snapped.  “You don’t know anything about him beyond how much he owes you every month!”

Gold smiled, his eyes twinkling with dark amusement, and straightened up, reaching for the handle of his cane to steady himself.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he said softly.  “I think I know exactly what sort of man he is.”

“I know, a bloody deadbeat who’s always late with payments,” she sighed.  “I’ve heard it all before, believe me.  I’ve been lending him money since I got my first job.  He’s kinda free with his fists when he’s drunk, too, if you want something else to add to the list.”

Gold watched her, hands clasped over the handle of his cane.  He was looking as though he had something to say, but was unsure whether to say it.  It was bloody annoying.

“What?” she said, a little more aggressively than was necessary, and he smiled, shaking his hair back from his face.

“D’you know, when I lent your father the money to buy that delivery van of his, I gave him two potential payment options,” he said.  “The first was for an unsecured loan, the higher interest rate of the two.  The second was for a loan secured on some form of collateral.  Clearly this carried less risk, and would have been the option I would have taken, in his position.  Had he any collateral, of course.”

“Let me guess, he made the wrong choice?”

Gold showed his teeth.  “Well, I suppose that depends on your point of view.  He offered me you.”

It was like a punch to the gut, and for a moment Lacey was breathless.

“I - what?”

His smile widened.  “Your virtue, to be precise.  He thought you worth the price of a van, at least.  That’s the sort of man he is, Miss French.”

She shook her head, her heart thumping.

“I don’t believe you,” she said numbly, and Gold shrugged.

“That doesn’t make it any less true, but think whatever makes you feel better.”

The worst part of it was that she did believe him.  She turned away, running her hands over her face before whirling back to face him.

“You said no,” she said, almost accusingly and he blinked.

“Of course I said no,” he said.  “You couldn’t have been any more than sixteen, what do you take me for?”

Great.  The town monster is a better man than my dad.  Fucking fantastic.

“Excuse me,” she muttered, and pushed away from the counter.

“Your rent, Miss French,” he called after her, and she waved a hand, unseeing.

“I’ll be back, I just have to - have to…”

She cut off, wrenching open the shop door and making the bell jingle merrily again as she stomped out into the evening air.  She had a visit to make. 

[heylabodega]

Books Read, Age 26

Previously: 25, 24, 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18 (holy shit)

Enigma Variations–Aciman I talked to Robbie about this one a bunch bc he’s always looking for good novels about gay people by gay people and I thought this might be that but this is…not that. It had promise and the first section is really kind of lovely but it veers off and just…I don’t know, mileage will vary, but it didn’t feel True to me. idk idk either like he misunderstands love and sexuality or I do and it honestly could more than likely be me.

A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy–Adams One of those books I had just always kinda pretended I read. I mean not that people like frequently check to make sure I’ve read AHGttG but just like in my mind whenever it was mentioned I checked it off. You know the dealio you don’t need my thoughts on it (as opposed to most things, on which you definitely do).

All Grown Up–Attenberg My favorite of the Attenberg novels I’ve read. Of particular use and relevance to me, an aging single woman and unlikeable protagonist. I enjoyed this very much, it was sharp and warm and mean and tender.

Queen of the Night–Chee Hmm. Ok. I felt for most of this book that it like…thought it was a different, more important book than it actually was? It is overwritten–both in prose style and in that it could have been at least 100 pages shorter–and you know how sometimes you read a book with a female protagonist and you’re like ‘I can’t believe a man wrote this!’? Yeah this isn’t that. But the ending line is really good? idk. Someone else read it and tell me your thoughts.

Too Much and Not the Mood–Chew-Bose First of all, excellent title. These essays reminded me, and I mean in this in the lease self-important way possible, of my own writing. Just in that way where writing doesn’t have to be traditionally literarily linear. These essays are good and filled with the kind of sentences that make you know the writer loves words, you can feel her placing them carefully with the satisfying click of scrabble tiles, sliding them into the right order.

Who Killed Roger Ackroyd–Christie Typical Agatha novel and very good. I can’t tell you any more without spoiling it.

Murder in Retrospect–Christie This is one of my fave Christie’s. It was dark and smart and pithy.

Rule Britannia–Du Maurier I found this in a used bookstore in Portland, Maine, just after the Brexit vote. She wrote it in like the 70s and it’s speculative fiction based on if the UK left the EU and formed a union with the United States. It’s kind of really good but it also ends kind of abruptly, like maybe it could have been the first of a trilogy or something.

Plum Bun–Fauset This was my favorite book from my Harlem Renaissance class. I wrote my term paper on it. I love this book. I want to write it as a screenplay and someone to make it into a movie and I want Troian Bellesario to play the lead.

A Coney Island of the Mind–Ferlinghetti A book of (I think?) beat poetry that I found in a used bookstore in Saugherties at Thanksgiving. I love these poems, especially one called “The World is a Beautiful Place” which I read out loud to Robbie one night while we were walking between bars in the snow at like midnight.

Wishful Drinking–Fisher Carrie Fisher is one of those people whose very existence makes me feel braver and weirder and funnier. She’s a truly good soul and I don’t have anything else to say except that you should read this and also that you should Postcards From the Edge first it’s better.

Difficult Women–Gay I prefer Roxane Gay’s fiction to her nonfiction and these are very good, very interesting stories full of sadness and love.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X (as told to Alex Haley) I have never had so many people approach me while reading a book in public as this one. It is, unsurprisingly, an extremely compelling and upsetting book. But I was very surprised by it. I’m not sure quite what I expected from it, but it wasn’t what it was. I think about this book at least twice a week. I think everyone should read it and I think they’ll all enjoy it.

How To Be  A Person In the World–Havrilesky I think maybe Ask Polly columns are better in smaller doses than a whole book, but nevertheless, for better or for worse, she shaped a great deal of my early-twenties self esteem and the essays translate to the page much better than a lot of internet writing I’ve read. 

Girl on the Train–Hawkins This felt…cheap somehow. Like I got really into it and then felt like I’d been cheated or fooled because it’s truly not very good.

Bright Lines–Islam This is a fascinating book. It’s the most Brooklyn summery, felt the most like my Brooklyn summers despite describing a Bengali Muslim family and smoking weed and other experiences that are not specifically mine. I’d recommend it. Highly.

Intimations–Kleeman Man, I’ve recommended this book of short stories to so many people. It’s weird and interesting and it does something I think is hard, which is write surreal stories where the stakes still feel real, if that makes sense. She came and spoke to our class and she told an interesting question to ask of short stories which was, “what are the satisfactions of this story?” and all of these are satisfying and visceral. There’s one long one in the middle that I skipped and you can too, I give you permission.

A Swiftly Tilting Planet–L'Engle Hey, um, you know what’s p upsetting to read? A plot where a crazy dictator is gonna drop a nuclear bomb and start the end of the world (this isn’t a spoiler it’s introduced like five pages in). 

A Wind in the Door–L'Engle This was not as good as A Wrinkle in Time–what is–but it was a bright easy read, her books are so–loving, I guess. Good if you need a little palate cleanser.

Passing–Larsen We read a LOT of books in my Harlem Renaissance course. This a very good, short novel about, well, guess. It’s like a painting somehow, like a 20th century painting.

Sister Outsider–Lorde  I have taken none women’s studies courses so this was a pretty important text I had never read. It is very Good and everyone should read it if they have not already.

Cruel Shoes–Martin I LOVE Steve Martin and still on a few of these I was like “I don’t know, Steve.” But many others (they’re very short stories) are funny or clever or great.

Bright Lights, Big City–McInerney ughhhhhhh a book that is entirely written in second person and is about how womens’ existences and deaths have like ~made a man feel~ but it’s a short quick read and–I am E X T R E M E L Y reluctant to admit–the end is a really good image that did lowkey make me cry but also fuck this book

The Hopeful–O'Neill This I didn’t like much, in a way that I thought it needed a stronger editor and I want Eleanor or Robbie or someone I trust to read it to tell me if I’m wrong.

The Bed Moved–Schiff Weird and good little stories. I don’t think about them often, but they were elegant and sharp as I read them.

Eligible–Sittenfield It’s nice that they’re publishing Modern AU Pride and Prejudice fanfic now in a bound book. This was enjoyable tho tbh not the best Modern AU Pride and Prejudice fanfic I, a cool and chill person, have read in my life.

Swing Time–Smith I think this is my fave of the Zadie Smith books I’ve read. I wasn’t sure by the end quite what the point of it was, but I guess also what’s the point of anything? idk this is a useless description of a book. It was immersive and interesting but I’ve also not told anyone “you *have* to read this you’ll love it.” We did go see her read from it and in person she is enchanting.

The New Woman–Sochen Nonfiction about what I think we’d call first-wave feminism? It was really fascinating about an era I knew nothing about but also had some, um, glaring omissions ahem any mention of race whatsoever.

Action. A Book About Sex–Spiegel Ok look yes fine I am an adult sexually active woman who still reads books about sex whatEVER. I missed sex-ed and I also like to hear, in a non-prurient (or sometimes prurient w/e) way what other people are up to, sex-wise. I mean there’s no real like advice about sex in the world, I think, except that everything consensual and fun is fine, but I think it’s important to occasionally remind yourself of that. This was a good book.

Missing, Presumed–Steiner A crime book that I neither loved nor hated and generally enjoyed reading. Big enh.

The Girls From Corona Del Mar–Thorpe Robbie gave this to me for my birthday last year. A beach read with an edge, page-turner-y but sharp. Seems like it’s going to be a light read, but there’s a bite to it, a reminder of the cruel randomness of fate and of our inability to really know other people or ourselves. I loved this.

Cane–Toomer So this is an important text from the Harlem Renaissance and it’s kinda…never classified? It’s a series of related but not continuous short stories, as well as poetry, and little like plays? idk it’s very evocative and beautiful and dense and bears up to intense overreading. One of my favorite books I read for my Harlem Ren class.

The Blacker the Berry–Thurman Ok so Wallace Thurman apparently worried his whole life that his writing style was too journalistic and he maybe wasn’t…wrong. This is NOT a bad book and it’s well written and novelistic exCEPT when sometimes it feels pedagogical or expository. It’s a short, well constructed novel about colorism and worth checking out.

Killer–Walters Lovely and weird poems. I went to go follow the author on Twitter and discovered I already was. I love these.

The Underground Railroad–Whitehead An extremely. upsetting. book. Here’s the thing and I understand the presumption of my criticism of a book that won the national book award, but: if you’re going to make your conceit that the Underground Railroad is a real railroad, I think that you should do more with it. THAT SAID the rest of this is truly wonderful, somehow at once a page turner and viscerally upsetting.

Kiss Me Like a Stranger–Wilder I love Gene Wilder. I’d read Gilda Radnor’s memoir a couple years ago so part of this was sort of an interesting other side of the story. Anyways he seems like a genuinely strange, slightly neurotic, flawed but mostly warm and kind person.