#trevor meet the feebles

[helyiios]

i got like embarrassingly into meet the feebles

[mice-rats-daily]

Today’s rat is Trevor from Meet the Feebles (1989)!

[clown-friend-gt]

Up, Up, and Away Chapter 9

A Perfect Fit

1.8k words

(CW: Needles, blood, body horror)

Link to Masterpost

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After his meeting with Miranda, Trevor was left alone in the interrogation room. No one came to update him on his case for a while. God, it was dull in that room. What could possibly be taking so long?

To keep himself occupied, he let his eyes wander over the room, trying to absorb the finer details. The way motes of dust danced in the feeble light. The dull reflection of the room in the puddle on the floor. His own slumped form mirrored in the glass at the far end of the room.

He tried to imagine how he’d capture those details in a drawing. That was how he occupied a lot of his downtime, with art. Though it was getting trickier for him to draw when the tools felt relatively brittle in his hands. It felt like the skill he’d worked to develop for so long was slipping away from him.

He’d been considering pursuing an art career when he got older. Probably as a freelance artist, with a full-time job outside of that. But still, he’d wanted it to be part of his life. But the life he’d been picturing for himself just felt further and further away as his condition progressed.

He was left alone with those thoughts for what felt like an hour. Finally, though, after he’d been given plenty of time to wallow in his thoughts, the doorknob jiggled. He looked up as Ray Morgan entered the room with a grim expression on his face.

“It’s been decided,” he announced. “You’ve been sentenced to corrective custody.”

Trevor’s brow furrowed. “Corrective custody?”

Morgan nodded. “The idea is for you to correct your behavior while you’re there. Thus, the length of your sentence is determined by your behavior while you’re in there. Got it?”

That wasn’t confusing at all. Still, he answered, “I guess.”

“Good. You got any other questions before we head over to the correctional facility?”

Trevor sat in dazed silence for a moment before responding, “Not really.”

“Alright then. Time to go,” Morgan gestured for Trevor to follow him. He slowly got to his feet and followed morosely behind as Morgan led him out of the building.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t expecting something like this to happen. But now that he was staring straight down the barrel of it, the gravity of the situation hit him like a tidal wave. It felt like walking through quicksand; each step towards the prison required effort on his part.

Just keep moving forward, he told himself. But what kind of place was he moving towards? He had no idea what the future had in store for him now.

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The first couple of days in jail were a blur. Several people came by his cell to give him all kinds of spiels on the rules, his rights and responsibilities, all that stuff. They gave him all kinds of paperwork to fill out with only those tiny number two pencils to fill them out with. Then they had the nerve to be irritated when he kept breaking the lead off by accident.

At least he could use his hands again. They still made him wear the same pair of cuffs Mr. Roberts had put on him when he was arrested. But now they were on a different setting than before, the one with the yellow light, so they were no longer magnetized together. He had to wonder though, if they weren’t just for keeping his hands bound, what were they for?

By the second day, he had to visit the medical office for a physical. He was getting tired of these doctor’s visits. Why should he have to spill his guts about all of the problems that came with his growth spurts to every new doctor he met? It wasn’t like there was anything they could really do to help him now.

All of the poking and prodding they did was starting to feel somewhat humiliating. Not as humiliating as the strip search they’d done when he first got here, but still. When they approached him with a large needle to take his blood, his nervousness made him snap.

“What do you need to take my blood for? Didn’t your institute get enough when I visited last month?”

The doctor who held the needle raised a placating hand, though Trevor didn’t miss the fear in his eyes.

“Easy now. We just want to get a read on where your hormones are at,” he told him.

Trevor was keeping his arm held above where the doctor could reach. “My hormones? Why?”

“It’ll help us keep track of your growth. Let us know what to expect. Isn’t that something you want too?”

Trevor narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. Finally he huffed and offered his arm to the doctor, looking away as he inserted the needle. He still flinched at the feeling of the needle pushing through his thickened skin.

He watched as the doctor drained his blood through the little tube into several glass vials.

“Why do you need so much blood,” he grumbled, mostly to himself.

“Like I said, it’s mostly for our charts, though there is some testing required for all detainees that we need your blood for,” the doctor informed him.

Trevor hadn’t actually expected the doctor to answer him.

“Although,” the doctor continued as he drew the needle out of Trevor’s arm, “from what I hear, one vial is to be set aside for some kind of special project.”

“WHAT?!” Trevor exclaimed, jerking his arm away from the doctor and glaring at him. His mind leapt to all sorts of scenarios where they’d use his blood for all kinds of nefarious purposes.

“It—It’s not—” the doctor’s hands flew up again, trying to keep him calm. “What I mean is—it’s for your uniform, they need it synthesize the empathic material, since yours is a special case.”

Blood dribbled down the inside of his arm. The prison guard who had escorted him there was heading over to see what all the fuss was about. His eyes darted between the guard and the doctor, sensing that there might be trouble if he didn’t comply. Reluctantly, he lowered his arm so it could be bandaged.

“That seems like something you should’ve told me before you stuck a needle in me,” he snarked.

The doctor finished wrapping the bit of gauze around the cotton pad he’d pressed to the injection site. Then he rubbed the back of his neck in seeming embarrassment.

“Technically, I don’t think I was supposed to say anything at all about it,” he said, eyeing the retreating guard.

“Yeah. Whatever,” Trevor mumbled. “Are we done here?”

The doctor looked up with a bit of alarm. “I—I suppose so?”

“Great. Bye,” he said and began to walk towards the door, forcing the doctor to scramble to get out of his way. He paused a few steps from the exit, feeling a little guilty about the way he’d acted. He looked over his shoulder at the bewildered doctor.

“Sorry for freaking out,” he said, then bent over and headed out the door.

************************************************************************

Trevor learned what the doctor had meant by “a special project” later that day. A guard ushered him from his cell to what seemed like some kind of conference room. Or maybe, based on some of the supplies he saw put away on the shelves, it was a classroom.

There, he was introduced to Carolina Martinez, a seamstress of some kind. Unlike most people he’d met here, she approached him with no hesitation. She worked like a whirlwind as she took all kinds of measurements, apparently for his uniform.

“Why put so much effort into this?” he asked midway through. He was on his knees so she could reach the upper half of his body.

“Into what? My job?” she shot back, examining the fabric ruler she had wrapped around his bicep, then scratching something in her notes.

“No I mean—” he gestured down to himself with his free hand. “I don’t know how much they told you about me, but any clothes you make for me aren’t going to fit in, like, a week.”

She gave him a look. “I don’t know how much you know about me, but I happen to be the Lively Institute’s leading expert on empathic materials. It’ll fit.”

“Empathic materials?”

“Right, I forget it’s something most people don’t know about. It’s a kind of fabric synthesized with a super’s DNA, allowing it to match their abilities. They took your blood earlier, no?”

“Yeah?” he replied, trying to keep up with how quickly she spoke.

“So right now, they’ll be using that in my workshop to isolate your specific instance of the SMM gene. We should be able to use that to create a uniform that grows with you.”

“Really?”

“That’s the plan. Now puff out your chest for me, yeah?” she said, immediately jumping right back into her work.

Trevor wasn’t fully convinced, but he got his uniform anyway a few days later. It fit him perfectly, at least initially. After being stuck in the ratty t-shirt and sweatpants he’d outgrown several days ago, it was a welcome change.

It was a prison jumpsuit much like ones he’d seen in movies and tv. It was made from a strange metallic fabric, though it was more flexible than it looked. A reddish-orange stripe ran up either side.

His uniform’s ability to adapt to him was tested soon enough. That night, as he tried to fall asleep on the hard concrete floor, he almost missed the comparative comfort of the linoleum he’d slept on at the main office. He waited for sleep to come, but it never did.

His discomfort gradually shifted to an ache in his back. The feeling spread and intensified, until he could feel the fibers of his muscles beginning to stretch and snap. A low groan of pain escaped his lips as he realized what was beginning to happen.

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that might relieve some of the pain. He kept trying, but nothing worked. He felt frustration and panic bubbling up within him.

“Keep it down,” a voice hissed from one of the neighboring cells.

He couldn’t respond. He had to catch his breath. Their words only served to aggravate him more.

He had to find something, anything to keep him grounded. His hand shot out and felt around, searching for something to cling to.

His knuckles brushed against the cold bars that enclosed him. He snatched one of the bars in his fist, gripping it tightly. He clung to it until it began to hurt, then kept clinging. Then covered his mouth with his other hand to suppress the sounds of his pain.

He waited like that until it passed, what felt like hours later. Eventually, he settled back down into a listless sleep. And in the morning, when dragged himself back to his feet, he could tell his perspective had shifted slightly. But looking down at the clothes he wore, there was no way to tell the difference. They fit him just as well as they had the day before.

Maybe even a little better.

First/Last/Next

[rreskk]

Love your work and have been binge reading everything Trevor :3 just have to throw that out there <3

A request I have is having the reader being recruited for a heist because she’s ex military and knows how to drive or good with guns (no real preference tbh you can work whatever angle you’d like) and Michael and Trevor both petty fight over who gets to be with her but she ultimately chooses T?

Amazing idea! Thank you :)

Summary: A new job needed a new crew member. You had caught Trev's and Michael's attention strongly. But who do you pick?

TW: -Suggestive content (sexual)

Word count: 927

Pairings: Ex- military Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

“Ex military, huh? Well… I guess me and [l/n] already have a lot in common.”

Michael rolled his eyes at Trevor’s suggestive comment and slumped in his seat. He looked at the board, your picture pinned as a potential gunwoman for the next job. You were extremely attractive, and ex-military (which had caught Trevor’s attention the most). He liked a good, strong woman after all.

“She ain’t a discharged mentally ill pilot from the Canadian air force, you Loonie.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mikey.” Trevor growled, his anger being triggered by the mentions of his past failure. He still had his eyes set on your printed picture, desperate for your part in the team – talented or not.

Lester had mentioned beforehand that you’ll be arriving soon to discuss any further concerns. The both men were pouncing in their seats, the only difference being; Michael was more calm and collected while Trev… Well, Trevor was already groping himself at the thought of you.

“Jesus, can you stop? You’ll scare her off.” Disturbed, Mikey glared at his buddy who was self-relieving.

“She’s ex-military, cupcake. A gunwoman who can handle herself – “ He groaned, “Damn… When she’s comin’ Molester? I’m getting’ impatient.”

“She’ll come in her own time… Just… Keep your mouth closed, I’ll do the talking.” Lester responded as he began writing some extra information on the board.

“Booorrriinnngggg! Hey, I’m sure a lady like herself would need a man as… Wild as me.”

Michael nudged Trevor’s shoulder in attempts to shut him up. However, before Trevor could react, the door opened and you walked in.

All eyes were set on you.

“Hey, I hope I wasn’t too late.” Your voice endearing and pleasant. You smiled at them all, clearly balanced in your frame of mind. For a lady who shot enemies senselessly in the military for years and years, you were a gentle soul. There was a shy glimpse in your eyes, someone feeble but independent and strong-minded.

“Ah, [y/n],” Lester offered his hand and you shook it gracefully. He then motioned to the seat beside Trevor – “Please, sit.”

You didn’t notice the eager guy at first. Not until you sat down.

“Hey.” He’d grin.

Luckily Trevor had stopped his groping just before you made an appearance. He was manspreading in his seat, observing your body language and occasionally trying to take a small peek at your ass. His heart flustered when you made eye-contact. He saw the Devil in your eyes, even if it was hidden by the ray of rainbows and innocence. Trevor’s grin grew wider, knowing he’s sat next to a lady who has killed without shame, and for her country.

“Nice to meet you.” You smiled.

“Ohhh… The pleasure is all mine.” The seductive labour of his tongue had made you visibly aware of his intensions. Trevor smirked when you got the hang of it, and winked.

“Ah, excuse Trevor…” The man beside him spoke, smiling at you, “I’m Michael. You must be [y/n]?”

You nodded.

“We heard that you’re pretty good with the gun?” Michael asked.

“Oh, yeah. I was a marksman for some years. I know my way around a rifle and assault rifles quite well.”

Trevor grunted from beside you, finding the urge to touch himself again. The bulge in between his legs was growing with every word you said.

“Impressive. Me and Trev, we ain’t professional, but we easily could be – “

“Wait, wait! Hey, I am a professional. I was in the air force.” He winked at you.

“Yeah… was,” Michael scoffed, “Besides, I’m talkin’ about the military, dumbass.”

“Oh, the air force? That’s cool. A pilot?”

Trevor’s eyes lit up when you took interest in his past profession. He shuffled a bit closer to you and smirked.

“Indeed. A fuckin’ great pilot. I’m talkin’ jets and nuclear drops.”

“Oh, damn. That’s pretty awesome. I respect your service.”

“And… I respect yours, as well.” His voice getting lower and his sinister grin widening.

“Okay, enough. We got to work on this thing,” Lester pouched, pointing to the board – “Now, [y/n], you’ll have to either assist Michael or…” He looked at Trevor, who was staring, admiring your beauty, “So… Michael is working on the south access, sniper. It’s able to be a one-person job, but a little help would be efficient. But, uh, Trevor’s route is on the North. He’s got the more open position and will be using an assault rifle. Two gunners would also be good… Either way, your help is much needed.”

You listened closely then realised you had to pick your partner. Michael and Trevor began hoping, yearning for your answer. They both had their ears out in case you say their name.

“You mentioned two gunners would be good? I wouldn’t mind partnering with Trevor.”

The way he threw his hands up in the air with victory. You jumped, not preparing for his sudden outburst.

“YES! FUCKIN’ YES!”

Michael looked defeated and he rolled his eyes, refusing to look in your direction. He was bitter that his old pal had caught your attention the most; the psychotic, mommy-issued freak.

“Oh, sugar, I ain’t gonna let you down.” He’d giddily chuckle and lean into your shoulder.

“Alright, [y/n] and Trevor are together. The plan is… Essentially closed.” Announced Lester.

“Yeah, yeah… Whatever. I got shit to do.”

“Awww, don’t be such a bad loser, Mikey. I’ll be sure to tell you all about our fun when it’s over.” Trevor winked before throwing an arm around your shoulder, “Now… [l/n]. How’d you like the sound of T.P.I?”

[psychospeak-blog]

Won’t Go Slowly // 68

One // Two  // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen// Twenty // Twenty One // Twenty Two // Twenty Three // Twenty Four// Twenty Five // Twenty Six // Twenty Seven // Twenty Eight // Twenty Nine // Thirty // Thirty One // Thirty Two // Thirty Three // Thirty Four// Thirty Five // Thirty Six // Thirty Seven // Thirty Eight // Thirty Nine // Forty // Forty One // Forty Two // Forty Three // Forty Four // Forty Five // Forty Six // Forty Seven // Forty Eight // Forty Nine // Fifty // Fifty One // Fifty Two // Fifty Three // Fifty Four // Fifty Five // Fifty Six // Fifty Seven // Fifty Eight // Fifty Nine // Sixty// Sixty One // Sixty // Sixty One // Sixty Two // Sixty Three// Sixty Four// Sixty Five // Sixty Six // Sixty Seven "Are you gonna be okay?" Tyler laughed, clearly noticing the way that you kept checking your phone.

"I don't know," you laughed, "I just thought she'd text me back by now.'

"She's probably just holding the baby and that's why she hasn't," Tyler rationalized.  Which he was right, you knew, but Bentley hadn't been happy at all when you dropped him off at your Mom's house so you and Tyler could go on your double date.   "She'd call you if she needed something."

"I know," you said, Tyler's lips turning up in a smile like he was trying not to laugh.  "I've never been away from him for so long before."

"We're not going to be any more than half an hour away if we really need to go back we can," Tyler said, "But he'll be okay.  your mom managed to handle you."

You shot him a look, and he laughed.  "Bentley is an angel compared to you."  

"Well, he wasn't an angel when we left," you said.

"He was like that when we got to my mom's house, too," Tyler said, "And then he warmed up.  He's kinda...what did my mom say?  Attached to you.  He needs time to get familiar with new people because he's too young to remember them."

You made a small noise, and Tyler looked over at you, his hand coming to rest on your knee reassuringly.  "Babe, if it's gonna be that hard for you to leave him, we don't have to go on a date."

"No, I want to go," you said, although leaving him still wasn't your most favourite thing, "I just -- don't want him to forget her."

"He won't," Tyler said softly, and you opened your mouth as if to speak, but took a breath in again.  "You're gonna be facetiming her all the time, she can fly down, you can talk to him about her.."

"No, I know," you said, taking another deep breath.  "I just, when I got pregnant, I just pictured taking him to Grandma's house on the weekends, or meeting for lunch, or have having his own space with his toys in her house -"

"He has that, baby," Tyler said.  And he did because your mom was already talking about getting him his own little table and chairs despite the fact that he wasn't even close to sitting up on his own yet.  

"Yeah," you exhaled, looking out at the road, "She was just gonna be doing this thing with me, you know?  When I was doing it by myself."

"She still will," Tyler said, "I know it's not gonna be the same, but - " Tyler cleared his throat and you swiped quickly at your eyes because you were not about to ruin your make-up when you'd actually taken the time to do it, especially when you wouldn't have to deal with a baby potentially messing up your outfit or grabbing onto your necklace.  

"Don't even," you warned him, "If you start apologizing, I'm not --- I would be way more sad if you were leaving without us."

"Yeah?" Tyler asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Yeah, I can handle moving if it means I get ti live with you," you said seriously, taking a breath and then laughing through your emotion.  "We still better come back every summer though. I don’t care how gorgeous the weather in Texas is."

Tyler laughed at your feeble attempt at sounding threatening, like you’d be unwillingly dragging him back to Canada.  "Yeah, well it's still home," he said, thinking for a beat, "Although I hope that Dallas'll feel like home, for you too."

"It will," you said, "you're there, so it will."

"Awe," Tyler said, face scrunched up, half making fun at how sickenly sweet and cliche you were being.  But you meant it.  "I'd kiss you all over the face if I wasn't driving right now."

So you wanted until you told him that you needed to make a left turn at the next light, rising up to press a kiss to his cheek once you were stopped, your attention turning back to the chime of your phone once you started moving again, attracting Tyler's attention when you let out a pleased laugh at what you read.

"My mom said she took Bentley outside for some fresh air and her sprinklers came on and he's transfixed.  So they've just been sitting there watching them."

Tyler snorted out a laugh.  "He's a simple man," he said, "See, I told you'd he'd be okay."

"Yeah," you said, putting your phone back on your purse, feeling better now that you knew he was happier than when you left, looking over at Tyler and thinking.  "Do you worry about leaving him?"

"Umm..." Tyler thought, "I mean, I don't worry, but I feel bad if he's sad when we leave because I want them to enjoy him when he's all happy and cute.  I worry about the stuff, though.  Like I'm looking for a crib and a car seat for him and I'm going through all of the safety ratings and then people are saying you have to make sure the crib slats aren't too far apart so their heads don't get stuck, but then I'm worried if they're too close together his arm's gonna get stuck."

"Yeah," you laughed at his exasperation,  the smile on his face letting you know he wasn't too stressed out about the whole thing.  

"Still not giving you any hints about his room, though," Tyler said.

"Yeah, yeah,' you laughed, "turn in here."

You kept your eyes on Tyler's hands as he made the turn, with watching him driving being one of the most favorite things lately, especially when you had a baby in the backseat.  But that also meant you missed out on the reaction on his face when he saw where you were going.

"Babe, no," Tyler whined, although you could already hear the blinker going as he looked for a parking spot.

"You said we could choose wherever we wanted," you laughed.

"Yeah, because I was trying to be a gentleman," Tyler said, "I didn't think you were gonna make me go painting."

"Well, you said you wanted to do something other than just going out to each," you said, a grin on your face at Tyler's reaction.  

"Yeah, but I meant like," Tyler said, and you laughed at him stumbling over his words, "I  don't know, something athletic or something."

"Oh, so only if it's something you're good at?"

"Are you saying I'm bad at painting?" Tyler accused, breaking into giggles before he even finished asking the question, and you shrugged, lips turning up in a smirk.  "Wait, is this the place you went with Tinder guy?  The second one?"

"You....remember that?"

"Babe," Tyler said seriously.

"I mean, not this particular location..." you said.  "And we had wine because it was evening.  We're gonna have tea because it's an afternoon date."

"Babe," Tyler repeated, laughing now.

"It's not a good date," he said, smiling as he shook his head.

"I had fun," you said, "And I wanted to do it with you.  Someone I actually love."  You smiled at him as you leaned across the console to kiss him.

"Mmm...you are so lucky I'm whipped," he said softly, his hand moving under your chin, tilting your head to give you a proper kiss. "Any other girl, I'd be out of here."

You laughed against his lips but he just smiled, kissing you deeper until there was a quick knock against the window, Tyler keeping his lips attached to yours as he playfully flipped off the person behind you. 

"I think you're supposed to save the kissing for after the date," Danielle said, to which Tyler just smiled, defying her and pressing one more kiss to your lips, and you could feel his hand behind your head waving them off.  

"Hey," you said, once you got out of the car, hugging Danielle, but she stopped you before you could move to say 'hello' to Jeremy, her fingers brushing your forearms as she searched your eyes in the way best friends do, and you realized you'd never checked to make sure there was no evidence you'd been crying because you'd gotten distracted by Tyler as per usual. 

"Everything okay?" She asked softly, and you could see the concern in her eyes, betting that she was thinking you and Tyler had had some kind of fight and were  in the process of making up when she'd interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," you reassured her, smiling at Tyler as he crossed around the car.  "We're fine." 

"Someone's just having a bit of separation anxiety," Tyler said, coming to stand by you and then frowning, his thumb coming out to sweep under your eye in a way that was incredibly indearing.

"Awe," Danielle said.

"I'm fine," you promised, tucking your hand into Tyler's.  "He was just really upset when we left, so that was hard."

"If he'd known we were going painting I think he'd be more stoked to stay at Grandma's," Tyler said. 

"You know, the last guy I took here was much more enthusiast," you said slyly, watching Tyler's mouth full open as he gawked.

"You did not," he laughed.

"I did," you grinned.

"C'mon, guys," Tyler said, "Let's go in so I can show her how much of a better painter I am than Trevor or whatever the fuck his name was."

"So mean," you laughed.

"You're the one taking your boyfriend to somewhere you took your ex!"

"He wasn't my ex because we were never exclusive," you said, "And yeah I'm taking my boyfriend here while our baby is being taken care of so we can actually paint."

"Our baby?" Danielle mouthed, and you smiled and shrugged, your eyes letting her know you'd talk about that later.

"I'm just waiting for him to get old enough we can finger paint together, I think I'd be better at that," Tyler said, and then took a closer look at you. "Are you gonna cry again?"

"No,' you said, and Tyler raised his eyebrows like he wasn't buying it.  "I'm just emotional today for some reason, leave me alone."

"Nah, I'm not gonna leave you alone," Tyler said gently, his lips pressing a kiss to your temple, his hand sliding to your back. "Are you like this every time you leave him with me?"

"Ummm...not really," you said, and Tyler looked taken aback"Kinda the first time I was a bit nervous but that's because I hadn't ever been away from him.

"Why not?"

"You know him."

"And your mom doesn't?" Tyler laughed.

"Yeah, but not like you do," you said because it didn't feel like you were leaving him with a babysitter anymore, where you had to explain how he might act. "You're with him every day."

"Well, I wasn't always," Tyler said.

"Yeah, but you're like....you have that connection," you said, moving your fingers together as if to illustrate.  "Like it's natural."

"Is it?" he asked, and Danielle widened her eyes and nodded even before you could.

"You're way better with him than I thought you were going to be," she said, and you added, "You're way more involved than I thought you were going to be."

"What does that even mean you guys?" Tyler sighed.

"Just that I thought you were going to be like the fun uncle," you clarified, "I wasn't expecting you to be, like, dressing him and stuff."

"Well, the kid's gotta look good," Tyler said with a laugh like it was no big deal.  But it was a big deal to you.

"Yeah, but he's so comfortable with you," you said because that special connection that they had was more than you ever thought it would be.  "And you take such good care of him."

"Yeah, I'm going for that 'Best Sperm Donor Ever Award',"  Tyler said, immediately giggling.

"You're more than that," you stressed.

"Oooh, do I get 'Best Boyfriend Ever' too?" he asked, and you turned to him grinning, your finger pinched together.

"You're like this close," you illustrated.  "We'll see how you do with the painting."

Tyler laughed, his hand coming to your low back and pulling out your chair for you, waiting until you sat down before he pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering, "Best boyfriend ever."

And he was kind of equally adorable while you were picking out your painting design, and you were trying to decide whether you wanted to do a sunset scene or stick to a daytime beach scene when Tyler suggested that you did one of the split canvas ones together.

"You thought this was a lame date and now you want to be that couple? " you laughed.

"Yeah, I do.  It'll be cute," Tyler insisted, his lip getting pouty, "We can put it up in our dining room."

"'Our' dining room?" Danielle repeated, and Tyler's head snapped towards yours.

"You haven't told her yet?" he asked loudly and with surprise."

"No," you said, whispering loudly, "I was going to, but I just haven't yet"

'But you tell her everything" Tyler said, and you gave him a look, turning to look at Danielle.

"Tyler asked me  - us - to move in with him," you said, swallowing.  "In Dallas."

What you weren't expecting was for Danielle to respond by punching Tyler in the arm.

"Ow," he said, making a face and rubbing his arm, "What was that for?"

"Because you didn't tell me you were going to ask her," she said.

Well, I didn't know I was supposed to," he said, holding his hands up like he was innocent.

"First you don't tell me that you're in love with her even though it was obvious," she said, "And now I'm thinking it's going to take years for you to ask her to move in with you."

You turned to her with a frown on your face.  "Wait, you're not upset?"

"Why would I be upset?"

"Because I'm not going to be living here," you said, and Danielle shrugged.

"Yeah, I mean it sucks that you're leaving but I'd be more upset if I had to deal with you being upset about being away from Tyler," she said, "Or how you're not sure if he loves you or not like we did all this year."

"You did that?" Tyler asked, like he still couldn’t actually believe that you felt that way about him."

"Yes," you said, half exasperated, "and thank God you got me pregnant so I could focus the baby otherwise I would have been thinking about you 24/7."

"Well, now you and that baby get to come live with me," Tyler said, and then looked at Danielle, "And you can stop trying to beat me up."

"As long as you don't do anything stupid," she agreed, and Tyler laughed, scrunching up his nose.

"I would never," he said, and she gave him a look, "Okay, okay, I know I moved slow.  But, like, I haven't lived with a girl since my Mom, so...."

Danielle laughed, but then forced herself to straighten her face.  "Still....if you mess up, I'm coming for you."

"Oh you better," Tyler said, his head bouncing like he was counting as he spoke, "I'm gonna have to deal with you, myself, my sisters.  I'm so glad I'm trusted."

"Well, to be fair, your sisters also told me not to fuck things up with you," you grinned, and Tyler laughed.

"Seriously?"

"Mhmm," you said, "Everyone just wants us to make this thing work."

"Mmm.." Tyler acknowledged, leaning over to kiss you like he couldn't help himself. "I'm planning the next date though.  You guys need to come to Dally.  If you're doing that type of thing yet."

"What type of thing?" Danielle asked.

"The sleepover thing," Tyler said like he was trying to be innocent but failing, "Although I do have two guest rooms..."

"They've been together for longer than we have," you laughed.

"Nooooo," Tyler whispered a smile coming to his face.

"I distinctly remember you saying that you weren't dating," Jeremy said, clearly teasing.

"Technically," Tyler clarified, "But I was playing the long game.  And, like, if we weren't seeing other people, then it kinda counts."

"Isn't this like your second date?" Danielle cut in.

"Shhh..." Tyler whispered, and then laughed.  "We've done date-ish things.  We weren't seeing other people.  That definitely counts for more than two dates."

"You...weren't?" you asked him because you knew he wasn't sleeping with other people near the end of your pregnancy when you weaved in and out of feeling like you were together.

"No," he laughed, "I haven't even kissed another girl in over a year... wait, have you?  Kissed a guy, that is? Because if it's a girl, that's totally cool."

You rolled your eyes.  "The only guy I've kissed is the little man."

"That's a lie," Tyler said, and you frowned, "I can't you the other day with Gerry trying to shove his tongue down your throat."

"Okay," you laughed, "Only babies and four-legged beings."

"That's what I thought," Tyler grinned, "Although I need to keep an eye on those guys, I think they're trying to steal my girl."

You couldn't help the way that your heart swelled when he called you his girl or the smile it brought to your face.  "No, they're just part of the complete package," you said. "I love our little family."

You smiled as an older couple came in, the gentleman stopping to pull out her chair for her, getting settled in.  "Oh, do you have a little one?" the woman asked, leaning forward like he was right there.

"Yeah, he's almost 4 months," you said, "he's at Grandma's right now though."

"Oh, that's such a cute age," she said, sounding slightly disappointed she couldn't see him.

"Yeah, you want to see pictures?" Tyler asked, looking just briefly at you and you gave him your agreement, Tyler getting out of his chair to move over by her, holding his phone out, and you held back a laugh at the cute way she reached for her glasses.  "That's Bentley," he said, his finger on the screen, his eyes flicking up to yours.  "And those are his brothers, Marshall, Cash, and Gerry."

"Three dogs?" she asked, and Tyler gave an "mhmm..", continuing to flick through the photos.  "Oh my."

"First date?" The man asked, and for a moment you thought he was asking if this was your and Tyler's first date, until he continued. "Usually the first time you go out on a date without the kids and actually look forward to spending time together all you end up doing is talking about the babies."

"Oh....yeah," you said because it was kind of true.  "We did go grocery shopping without the baby once."

"Yeah, and we didn't buy anything for the baby at all," Tyler said, sarcastically, catching your eye with a smile, pushing himself up from where he was crouched, "Let me grab some tea."

"How do I make tea?" he whispered as he passed by you, and you laughed, standing up.  "I'll come out."

It was automatic to you, the process familiar as your mom was always a big fan of afternoon tea, and Tyler smiled as he grabbed mugs alongside you, looking over at the couple again, and you almost expected him to make a comment about how lame the date was once again, but he surprised you again.

"You gonna drag me along to painting classes when we're that old?" he asked and you smiled, your fingers letting the tea bag drop into the water.   

"Of course I am," you smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.  R

"I think I gotta smuggle in something other than tea next time though," he said.

"As long as I get donut holes when we go on our next double date to Top Golf."

"How do you know  that's gonna be the date I plan?" Tyler laughed.

"Because I know you," you said.

"You don't know boyfriend me that well, this is only our second date, remember?" he teased, "I still got moves you haven't seen yet."

"Like what?" you asked, Tyler following you back to the table, warm mugs in hand.  "Skating?"

"Well, I do need to make sure I teach my girl how to skate," Tyler smirked.

"I know how to skate," you laughed, sitting back down.

"I know, but it would be so cute if I could teach you," Tyler said.

"Well, you can teach Bentley," you said, looking at Tyler's face.  "He has to at least be able to walk first, babe."

"I know," he said, sliding in next to you. "but he can still come to the family skates with us, people bring their babies all the time.  The one before the Winter Classic is gonna be awesome."

"We....get to come to that?" You asked because all you could think of was cameras and people who had been in that world for years, sacrificing to get to enjoy those big moments.  Not to mention it seemed like such a long time away, and you couldn't imagine just quite how your relationship would evolve over the next 5 months, just like you couldn't have imagined starting your family this way or falling in love with you best friend.

"Yes," Tyler answered, giving you a look like you were crazy, and then your worries kind of went out the window thinking how clearly excited he was to have someone to share these experiences with now.  "The poor kid's going to be sweating though."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to have him in way too many clothes."

"Well, I wouldn't want him to get cold."

"It's Texas," Tyler laughed.

"It's ice, ice is cold," you said, looking at Danielle and laughing, because you were loving having someone to have these disagreements with about how to take care of the baby more than you ever would have thought, listening to Jeremy and Tyler starting to talk about the logistics of having ice outside in Dallas while you started to paint, which was incredibly relaxing.

"Can you help me with this part, babe?" Tyler asked, interrupting your painting, pointing at the sunset part of his painting, which was essentially just a stripe of yellow above the harsh blue line of the water, although you could see he'd taken care to round out the circle of the sun.

"Why? You're doing great."

"Because I want it to match yours, and yours is like all blendy," Tyler said, gesturing to yours, and you laughed.  "How'd you get it to do that?"

"You have to kind of mix the colours into each other," you said, watching as Tyler looked at yours again and then dipped his paintbrush back into the paint.

"Shit," he mumbled a moment later, reaching his thumb out to try and wipe away the paint that was turning into a muddy mess, and then realizing that he swore, looking up.  "Sorry."

"It's okay," you said, more about his concern about messing up his painting rather than the swearing.  "Just let it dry."

"Let it dry?" he asked, half in alarm.  

"Yeah," you laughed under your breath.  "If you let it dry then you can paint over it and you won't be able to tell."

"Oh," Tyler said, leaning forward and blowing at the canvas as if to encourage it to dry, and you laughed even more at how cute he was being.  "Yours looks so great, babe," he said, still tending to his painting.

"Yeah?" you asked because it wasn't something that you had done in a while, although you loved the experience of painting.

"Yeah, I hope the kid gets your art skills," he said, blowing on his painting once more.  "I was going to put a poll on my Instagram to see whose people thought was the best but I'm going to lose that for sure."

"Not if you say which one's yours," you said, your lips turning up into a smile, "Your female fans will be all over that."

Danielle stifled a laugh and Tyler gave you a look, running his hand over the back of his neck. "I'm gonna be beating them off with a stick," you said, and now Tyler laughed, his foot bumping yours under the table.

"I think I've got an extra hockey stick you can use," he said. 

"When do you guys go back for the season?" Jeremy asked Tyler.

"End of August," Tyler answered, "then I have training camp a couple of weeks after."

"Are you ready to go back then?" he asked.

"Yeah, it'll be great to get back with the boys and see what we can put together this season," Tyler said, and you snorted, Tyler looking at you. "What's so funny?"

"You totally just gave him your media answer," you said, laughing because it was a thing he'd done to you before, where he'd get so caught up in his head that he'd forget who he was talking to and that he could be real, and Tyler laughed at himself.

"Yeah, I'm always happy for hockey season," he said, "But I'm really more excited to have Y/N and Bentley down there with me," he answered.

"Awe," Danielle said sweetly.

"I'm serious," Tyler said, "I've never had someone to come home to before."

"Have you even left her house?" Danielle said with a laugh.

"Well...no," Tyler said sheepishly, a smile creeping onto his face.  "But you know what I mean.  This whole thing is so crazy and I've never really had someone that I wanted to share it with like this before. Like, I know you've come to a lot of my games and stuff, but like last year when we had that little baby shower thing, I was like, I want you to always be my date. And I want Bentley to be running around in the family room with all the other kids and not care absolutely at all about the game but just be stoked to give me a hug afterward."

"Stop," you said, your hand clutched to your heart.

"Why?" Tyler asked, laughing at you.

"Because you're gonna make me cry again," you said,

"Sorry," he said, turning to press his lips to your head.  "Don't look at my painting then, it's too beautiful."

You inhaled a laugh through your nose, and Tyler scrunched his nose up as he looked at you.  "Did you just snort?"

"Shut up," you said, pushing at his shoulder and he laughed, moving with your hand so you could look at his painting.  "It looks so good," you said, taking in his rough recreation of the sample, a little shaking, but he'd put much more effort into it then you'd expected.

"I know," Tyler said proudly, "I blended it just like you said to."

"I'm gonna have to take a picture and send it to your mom," you said, "this is way better than the stuff you used to do in art class."

"And that's what's bad about dating a girl you knew in high school," Tyler said to Jeremy, "She knows all the embarrassing stuff about you."

"Well, you know all the embarrassing stuff about me," you relented.

"You don't do stuff that's that embarrassing," Tyler said, quietly, his lips turned up in a smile.

"I guess not," you laughed, just barely noticing Tyler glancing at his phone as you tried to perfect the shadow on your painting caused by the setting sun.  

"I'll be right back, okay?" he said, pushing his chair back and resting his hand on your shoulder. 

"Okay," you said easily, turning back to the other couple.  "So, what have you guys been doing lately?"

"We've been doing a lot of movie nights," Danielle said, "Jeremy just got one of those projectors for his deck and it's awesome."

"Oh, that sounds fun," you said.  "I don't think we've gotten through a movie since Tyler and I went when Bentley was still sleeping through the whole thing."

"Well, you guys should come one night," Jeremy said, "You can bring him."

"Yeah, that sounds fun," you said, "and it'd give me a reason to not be in my pajamas by 8."

"Well, you could come in your pajamas if you want," he laughed, and you listened to Danielle tell you about the movie that they'd watched last, realizing that you were falling more and more out of touch with what was current.

"Whatcha guys talking about?" Tyler asked, palming his phone and leaning down to kiss your head even though he'd only been gone for a couple of minutes.

"Just talking about we haven't watched an adult movie in forever, and that we should all have a movie night," you said, and Tyler raised his eyebrow.

"You and I have most definitely never watched an 'adult movie' together, but I'm totally down," he said, "It's kinda weird if there are other people there though."

"You know what I meant," you laughed half our of embarrassment because now it was real, looking at the smile that was spreading to Tyler's cheeks, laughing as he sat down.

"Yeah, a movie night sounds fun," he said, setting his phone down back on the table.  "Bentley's having a bottle by the way."

"My mom texted you?" you asked, already reaching for your phone, feeling surprised and then hit imm3diately hit with a wave of guilt that you hadn't heard it, even though you'd been checking it periodically and you knew, logically, that your mom could text Tyler or Danielle like she had if she really needed to get in touch with you. 

But there was no message waiting unread on your phone. 

"Yeah," Tyler answered, "She wanted to know how he likes to be held when he takes his bottle, and since I'm the one who usually gives him his bottles she asked me. So I just called her because it was easier."

And now you were beginning to think your mom might have ulterior motives.

"And....everything seemed to be going okay?" you asked, trying to make it sound like you were just casually asking, not being paranoid.

"Yeah, he took the bottle fine," Tyler said, and then narrowed his eyes a bit at you, laughing under his breath. "She sounded like she had everything under control."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," he said, his voice light and teasing, "I could hear the kid babbling away in the background.  And I couldn’t hear the dogs at all so they're probably napping or starring your mom down trying to get an early dinner out of her.  All your babies are fine."

"You guys dropped the dogs off with Bentley?"

"Yeah, my mom really wanted them to come I too," you said.  You’d been worried about it being too much, but then Tyler had reminded you that you’d essentially demanded to have the dogs stay with you when he'd been gone, and you couldn't deny what great company they were.

"I think she likes having a full house," Danielle said.

"Don’t say that," Tyler chastised, "you're gonna make Y/N start crying again."

"I just don’t want her to feel alone when we move."

"She won't," Tyler said, his voice gentle but with an air of playfulness. "We've got a plan for that."

"Yeah, we do," you said, mirroring his scheming smile like you were hiding one of the best surprises.

And a little over an hour later, you were pulling into where you'd be picking that plan up, exchanging a quick smile with Tyler, hearing the barking of excited dogs before you'd even opened the door to get out of the car.  You laughed at the way Tyler wandered over to the chain-link fence like a little kid even before you tried to go to the front door, although you shouldn't really be judging because you were eyeing the puppies with their paws up against the fence, wishing you could go over and crouch down to bring your hand to an opening to feel a little nose.

You turned when the door opened, smiling at the woman who greeted you.

"Y/N?" she asked, and then looked over your shoulder.  "And Tyler?"

"Yes," you said, reaching out to shake your hand, laughing at the way Tyler had kind of stepped towards you and was looking between the puppies and the two of your like he couldn't decide what to do.

"You can open the gate," she said, walking towards him with her hands in his pockets, and you watched Tyler unclasp the latch, already bending down with his hands outstretched, using his foot to try and wrangle the puppies from getting out, and you could already hear his voice grow impossibly high, talking to the little creatures.

"Which one's ours?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at the breeder.

"She's not ours," you reminded him, stepping inside the gated yard now with it closed securely behind you, bending down to let the puppies sniff your hand. And then you noticed the breeder's eye flicking back and forth between the two of you like she 3as trying to formulate the words to say.

"She's a gift," Tyler explained nonchalantly, crouched down on the ground and trying his hardest to pet all the puppies at the same time.

"For my mom," you clarified, knowing that the puppy wasn't something you were supposed to give as a gift, even though Tyler still thought it was the best gift ever.  "Obviously we'd take care of her, but my mom just really...needs a dog in her life."

Now the breeder seemed to relax, patting the full-grown dog at her side.  "I think she's one of the ones by you," she said, pointing at the ones by Tyler's feet.

Tyler smiled, crouching down a little more, petting and pulling one of the puppies into his body. "Oh, you're a boy," he said softly, playing with the puppies paw, and motioning for you to pick up the puppy jumping up towards her brother.  

"Hi," you said, pulling the furry little creature into your arms, scratching at her exposed belly, "you're so soft.  Are you coming home with us?"

"She's going to your mom's house," Tyler corrected, grinning with satisfaction that he'd caught you.

"Well, she can come over to our house sometimes." you said, nuzzling at the puppy, "We might need to babysit her."

"I thought you said four dogs was too many," Tyler teased, his lips turning up into a smile.  

"For us to have all the time," you clarified, turning the puppy in your arms, looking into her eyes., "Sometimes it would be okay."

"You have three dogs?" the breeder asked, which was the usual reaction.

"Well, he does," you clarified out of habit, to which Tyler gave you a look.

"You know they're your dogs too," he said, "Especially since we live together."

"Yes, we have three dogs," you said now, the breeder giving you a curious look and laughing at the two of your confusion when you were so obviously together.  "One of each colour."

"All labs?" she asked, and Tyler nodded. "They're the best aren't they?"

"They are," you agree, laughing as you got a kiss all over your face, the puppy squirming in your arms, lunging towards Tyler.

"Do you see your brother?" he asked her, and you set her down, Tyler following suit, smiling as the puppies ran towards each other, rolling over each other as they played, the older dog walking over and nudging at the puppies with her nose, Tyler immediately going over to her and bending down to rub her behind the ears.

"Is that their mom?" you asked, getting confirmation.  "Awe, are you keeping them in line, mama?"

Tyler gave you a look, one you couldn't quite figure out as the breeder offered to take the other dogs to feed so the two of you could have some time with the puppy, offering to grab you some of her food to take with you.  

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked because he was still looking at you as you sat down on the grass, spreading your legs to create space for the puppy between them, extending your arms to encourage her to prance over.  Tyler raised his eyebrows, moving to sit down next to you, leaning back on his hands.

"I just didn’t think about this making you cry."

"I'm not crying," you said, your hand reaching out to play with the puppy, who was leaving yellow hair all over your dress.

"Yet," Tyler clarified.

"Why would I cry?" you laughed, and Tyler sighed, leaning closer to you, reaching his hand out towards to curious creature, who likely already smelled other dogs all over you both.

"Because we're gonna take her away from her mom," he said, looking up at you with soft eyes.

"And you think I'm gonna be sad because that's going to make me think about how we're taking her away from her mom like we're taking me away from my mom?"

Tyler looked at you, blinking evenly.  "No, I just thought you were going to think it was sad," he said, "I didn't get that deep with it."

"Oh," you said quietly, thinking, "I mean, yeah, it's sad, but it's also happy at the same time."

"Like you moving to Dallas?" Tyler asked, someone, shifting closer to you to pet the puppy.

"Exactly like me moving to Dallas," you smiled, laughing as the puppy scampered up Tyler's legs.

"Hi, pretty girl," he said softly, rubbing her behind the ear.  "Do you want to try your collar on?  We brought one for you."

You held her as Tyler fished the collar out of his pocket, which had seemed impossibly small when you'd picked it out a few days ago, but that Tyler was able to clasp around her neck as you held her in place.  The light pink bow and collar were a little much, in your opinion, but you had to admit it looked perfect against her light-colored fur, and you couldn't think of anything better for her to wear to help your mom get the impression that she was a gift.

"It fits perfectly," you said.

"I told you," Tyler grinned, laying down on his side, the puppy running between you both playing for a moment before he pulled out his phone.  And you knew he was filming you for Instagram, his excitement over the puppy evident in your voice, but you felt you could let your guard down for a moment and just be his friend who he happened to be in love with, rather than thinking about how things might be perceived, laughing when the puppy lunged towards Tyler's phone, and he shut it off and put it on the ground, reaching for the puppy instead and rolling so she was settled on his chest.  "It looks so pretty," he said, pushing her ears back like he was playing with her hair, and barely even taking his eyes off her to ask you, "What are you looking at?", repeating your words from earlier, and you sat back.

"Just thinking about how cute you would be with a little girl," you said.

"I mean...yeah," he said, a little uptick of his lips.  "What made you think of that?"

"It looks like you're doing her hair," you said, nodding towards the way Tyler was twirling her ears, and he huffed out a laugh.   "I can just see you braiding a little girl's hair," you said, and now Tyler laughed harder.  

"I don't think I can braid, babe."

"You have sisters," you said.

"Who would never let me touch their hair," Tyler said. "Which is, like, a thing with girls."

"That is not true," you said, laughing because you loved it when he moved your hair to the side to make sure it didn't get caught when you were cuddling, and Tyler gave you a look. 

"The only time you actually let me touch it was when you guys were trying to teach me to braid at the lake house," he said, and you instantly recalled laughing till you cried with his sister because he was swearing under his breath trying to get it just right.  "And don't get me started on that French braid shit."

"At least you know what a French braid is," you smiled, Tyler's cheeks turning pink just a bit like he was embarrassed that he'd actually paid that much attention to what you talked about that long ago when you were strictly friends, without a strand of hope that you could be more one day. Or that you'd have a baby together one day.

"I mean, I guess I should have known you were into me then," Tyler said.

"Huh?" you asked, confused at how he'd somehow heard your thoughts, and now you were wondering if you'd said it out loud.

"You let me touch your hair, that's like end game," Tyler said, "It's easy enough to get a girl to let you touch her tits, you gotta work for the hair."

"Tyler!" you scolded, his giggle ringing out.

"Sorry," he said, trying to be serious, clamping his hands over the puppy's ears, nudging at her with his nose.  "You shouldn't listen to that, no, you're a classy girl."

You shook your head, laughing as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, holding the puppy's ears up like he was trying to give her some kind of weird bun, letting them flop back down.

"I think I could get Bentley rocking a little man bun pretty soon," Tyler said, "The kid came out with almost enough hair."

"Well, yeah...." you muttered, reaching over to flick one of his curls.

"You have more hair than me," Tyler said, turning his head to look at you, "and you have like a thousand hair ties at my house, so you don't have to pack any."

"Really?" you laughed.

"Mhhmm, kept finding them everywhere," he said.

"Well, sorry."

"Nah, it's fine," he said, "it's kinda cute.  Other than the fact that I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't in love with you and I kept finding your stuff all over my place like you already lived there.  So you don't need to bring any."

"No, I need to bring more because they always go missing," you said, "Someone likes to rip them out of my hair."

"That'd be Bentley," Tyler said.

"Which would be funny because he's never been to Dallas," you said, watching Tyler's smirk turn into a laugh.

"Hey, I don't care if I have to give you my whole closet," he said, "As long as you guys get to come to live with me."

"I told you so," Tyler said when you wiped a tear away that had started to roll down your cheek, your eyes on the gate now, your free hand holding the puppy who was sitting on a blanket in your lap, trying to keep her calm in this new experience that was a car ride.

"Shut up," you muttered, to which Tyler laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple, reaching over to rub the puppy.  "Are you ready to go see your new home?"

"Did you see your new toy?" Tyler asked, reaching over to obnoxiously squeak the toy that was resting on your leg, that the puppy couldn't be showing less interest in at the moment. 

"I think she's tired," you said, your voice soft, trying to pet her to encourage her to put her head down on the blanket.

Tyler made a soft sound of acknowledgment, his hand moving to your headrest to back out, driving carefully like he did the first time you brought Bentley home like any sudden movement might be a disturbance. Luckily, she didn't seem bothered at all, likely tuckered out after all of the excitement.

"Do you know what dog this reminds me of bringing home?" Tyler asked softly, in contemplation.

"Gerry?" you asked, the yellow lab curled up in your lap reminiscent of the way Gerry had been, quickly passing out into a deep sleep as soon as you'd gotten him into the car.

"No," Tyler answered, his lips pressed together like he was amused that you thought he would be so simplistic.  "Marshall."

"I wasn't even with you when you got Marshall,:," you said.

"Well, no," Tyler said, a smile pulling at his lips, "But you were, like, the first person who got to meet him other than my family.  And you were the first person I told.  Even though you thought it was a bad idea."

He glanced at you as he said the last part, and you laughed.  "You were young," you said, "You'd just moved away and..."

"I could barely look after myself?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah, that," you laughed, which made Tyler laugh harder.  

"Hey, I was way better at taking care of him than myself," he pointed out.

"You were," you said, "I was totally wrong."

Tyler gloated at your admission, "Hey, I knew we could handle it," he said, "You were the one who brought a baby home before I thought I was ready."

"Okay, a dog and a baby is not the same thing," you laughed.

"Yeah, a baby is way more intense," Tyler said, a grin on his face.

"You have three dogs," you said.

"We have three dogs," he corrected,

"And a baby," you said, Tyler's giggle ringing out through the car.

"Anyways," he said, "She reminds me what you were like with Marshall because he just curled up with you and got all calm like she is."

"Yeah?" you asked.

"Hell yeah," he responded, "And not just because you're awesome, but like you care about me enough that my kids were your kids.  Like, yeah, it's awesome to have a friend who'll watch your dogs for you when you're gone.  But your friend isn't supposed to take your dog to hang out in the other room when he's freaking out because there are too many people around or send your dog a care package because he's depressed."

"Well, your friend who’s never changed a diaper in his life also isn't supposed to offer to babysit for your kid that he helped create."

"Good thing we're not friends then," he said, flashing you a grin, his hand sneaking across to grab your boob. 

"Tyler, you're driving," you laughed, pushing his hand away, trying hard to scold him.

"We're at a stoplight," he said, his hand sneaking across, "we're out without a kid, I gotta get it in while I can."

"There's a puppy," you said, your hand wrapping around his forearm.

"She's got her eyes closed," Tyler said, nodding towards the window on your side, "I thought you'd be more worried about that guy watching us."

You turned your head quickly, Tyler's laugh ringing out before you could even get your head around to realize that no one was there. 

"You are such a jerk," you said, reaching your hand out to push against his chest, which didn't really do much, hard and solid underneath your hand, yet he moved, struggling like you were hurting him, quickly reaching out to grab your wrist like he was at wrestling with you, and you expected him to use his strength to gain leverage over you so he could poke you in the side, but instead he just pulled your hand towards him, pressing his lips against your knuckles, eyebrows raised thoughtfully. You smiled, shifting closer in your seat towards him even though you couldn’t actually touch him while he was driving, yet you still wanted to be as close as possible while keeping the puppy secure in your lap.

And as much as you were enjoying having time with just Tyler for the half-hour drive, you couldn't deny that when you got close to your mom's house, your couldn't wait to see Bentley, sneaking inside the front door and creeping up the stairs, already smiling before you rounded the corner to see Bentley sitting in your mom's lap on the couch, a book open in front of them, Cash curled up beside them, and you knew there'd soon be a different colour of dog hair covering that sofa.

"Hi," you said, Bentley's jerky movements allowing him to find you. "Are you reading a book with Grandma?"

"We're trying to, but someone keeps trying to take Grandma's glasses off," she said, curving around her grandson.

"Yeah," you laughed, bending over to see him more.  "He's started trying to pull Tyler's beard."

"Where is Tyler?" your mom asked, looking up now and realizing that he wasn't behind you. 

"Oh, he just had to take a call, he'll be in a minute," you lied.

She seemed to accept your lie, asking Bentley if he wanted to go see mommy, and you couldn't stop but hold your arms out, pulling him into your body.

"I missed you," you said, placing a kiss on his cheek, feeling like he was so much bigger than when you'd left, especially after holding the puppy. "How was he?"

"He had a few moments," your mom admitted, "But we worked through them.  He was good."

"Oh good," you cooed, bouncing Bentley until you got a smile. "Do you want to show me how he watched the sprinklers?"

"Sure," she said, standing up now, and you followed her out the back, laughing when you saw Marshall and Gerry stretched out in the sun on her deck, raising their heads up and squinting as if you disturbed them.  

"Are these new?" You asked, nodding towards the planters that were in the corner of the deck, listening to her tell you about how the posts themselves weren't new but she'd switched up the flowers this year, shooting off a quick text to Tyler while keeping your mom distracted so it was the dogs who reacted to the sound of the gate opening before she did, running to circle Tyler, the puppy secure in his arms, her tail wagging furiously.  Tyler's eyes connect with yours, raising his eyebrows just slightly, a soft smile towards your mom turning into a laugh when her eyes widened, drawn to the puppy.

"What are you doing?" She asked in surprise, and Tyler just shrugged, moving across the yard, the older dogs still at his feet. 

"We just thought we'd show this girl her new home," he said simply.  

"What?' She repeated with a laugh, and yet her arms reached out towards where Tyler was extending the puppy towards her.  

"We thought you needed a roommate," you said, smiling at the way your mom nuzzled the puppy in your arms, "Someone to keep you company."

"You got me a puppy?!" She asked, Tyler laughing at her response.

"Y/N didn’t think a puppy was a good gift, but I did."

"Shut up," you laughed, which made Tyler only laugh harder.

"No, it was her idea," Tyler said, nodding towards you, bending down to per his dogs who were buying for his attention.

"Tyler found her, though," you said, "and Bentley came  to the pet store with us and picked her out some toys'

"And we've got a crate and food and everything for her too so you have everything you need," Tyler said.

"But you can think about it if you want," you said, "Tyler and I can take her if you want a few days if you want to get set up for her or--"

Your mom hugged the puppy tightly to her chest, "she's not going anywhere," she said, to which Tyler laughed loudly and you smiled, reaching out to pet the puppy.

"Dif you see the puppy, Bentley?" Your mom asked, and you turned so he could get a better look, his eyes wide and interested.

"Hey, bud, did you have fun with grandma?" Tyler said, his thumb coming out to sweep over Bentley's hand, gaining his attention, glancing towards your mom "was he okay?"

Your mom smiled at you before repeating to Tyler what she'd already told you, giving a report on how he did with his feedings And naps, during which time Bentley decides to squeal.

"Grandma  let you do what?" Tyler asked, his voice exaggerates with shock, looking down at the dogs, Marshall laid back out again now.  "What did Grandma let Gerry get away with, Marsh?"

"They were well-behaved too," she reassured him, the puppy shifting in her arms. "Will they be okay if I put her down?"

"Oh, yeah," Tyler said confidently, your mom bending down to set the puppy down gently into the grass, letting her explore a little, making her way over to Marshall herself, where he stayed still yet reached his head forward, letting her sniff him, his tail batting while her little tail was going crazy.  "Good boys," Tyler said, Gerry making his way over to her excitedly but with control. 

Seeing their reactions, you bend down, sitting down on the grass with Bentley in your lap so he could get a better look, but what you weren't expecting was having a front-row seat to Gerry mounting the much smaller yellow lab.

"Gerry, stop that!" Tyler said, his voice raised in alarm, sliding his hand between the dog just after his hips started moving, pulling the dog off.  "That's like your....aunt? Just...dodon’t do that."

You laughed, both at the situation, and the way that Tyler's cheeks were tinted pink, pulling Gerry into his lap as he sat down next to you, your mom bringing the puppy into her lap, and you took Bentley's hand, letting him pet the puppy, who seemed undeterred by the whole humping situation.

"Do you like Grandma's new puppy?" she asked him, "you'll have to come to visit her because she's gonna get so big.  And grandma will come to visit you and your puppies, okay?"

And you smiled, Tyler leaning over to kiss the tear that was running down your face. 

It was gonna be okay.  

[riderunlove]

Guns and Ghosts 14/16(?)

Normal was more difficult than he’d hoped, because it was a new normal. Not that anyone would acknowledge the new parts. He remembered everything that he had done for Caleb- and how he had been treated there. Sometimes he flinched when Reggie threw himself at him for a tackle hug, or started looking for exits when Alex started a very frustrated rant. If they noticed his reactions, then they got twitchy. He tried explaining a couple of times, and they had just made feeble excuses and left, not ready to talk about it. It got even harder as flashes of the in between time started to come back. He stopped calling Julie “boss”, unable to stand her pained expression. They’d lived with his quiet shadow and didn’t want to be reminded of that. Undercover personas had never been his strength, but he would make this one work. He could be the version of him they needed, and he’d figure out the rest. He shoved the dark moments down, hid his nightmares, and never let on that some of the changes that made him into the ghost were permanent. There were days it was agonizing and overwhelming, but he would do what it took to protect his family-even if it was from him. It mostly worked, but nothing was foolproof. 

Last night, Julie, Flynn, Reggie and Alex had all gone to Ray’s for dinner- which he didn’t even find out about until he asked Bobby later while scrounging for leftovers. He told himself it was expected, it was almost Alex’s birthday. They always celebrated with Ray. Trevor wouldn’t have let him go anyway. He wasn’t supposed to leave the base.  He’d been wandering the halls, trying to relax enough to sleep when he’d overheard them return.  Alex had been ecstatic because he’d finally gotten to introduce Willie to Ray- and of course it went wonderfully. Luke wondered briefly if anyone had noticed his absence. 

But today was going to be great. He’d make German chocolate cake for Alex’s birthday, like he did every year. Reggie was the chef, but he was a better baker. Assuming Alex doesn’t think I'm trying to poison him, half the time he refuses to eat something if he knows it’s from me, he thought bitterly. He shoved those feelings down, if he didn’t get started he wouldn’t be finished before his spar with Reggie that afternoon. 

He wasn’t alone for long. 

“What are you up to?” Julie asked, a tentative smile on her face. 

���German chocolate cake for Alex,” he replied. A peace offering. 

“He’ll love it!  Can I help?” 

“Definitely, the recipe is a bit complicated.”

They fell into a rhythm, an easy conversation flowing as they reminisced on previous birthdays, terrible gifts and general shenanigans. 

Soon enough the cake was in the oven, and the topping was simmering on the stove, and all that was left was the clean up. The worst part of baking by far. 

He felt Julie looking at him, and he glanced up to meet her eyes. A soft smile turned into a smirk and they reached for the spoon at the same time. He grabbed it first, but she surprised him by closing her hand over his, lifting it and the spoon and smearing batter across his cheek. 

“It’s on now, Molina,” he threatened playfully. He swiped his finger through the bowl, and booped her nose, covering it in batter in retaliation. Their cake batter battle resulted in both of them covered in it, and the kitchen an even bigger mess. 

The unrestrained laughter, and Julie’s beautiful smile were more than worth it. She helped him clean up, washing dishes with her side pressed firmly against his. For a few brief moments, everything felt perfect. 

She pulled him into a gentle hug before going to a meeting and Luke headed towards the gym. He could get a couple of sets in before Reggie showed. He loved him dearly, but he was always late. 

When he arrived, Alex was already there, pretending to work out on the treadmill. Luke pointedly ignored his suspicious gaze  even as it made his skin itch. Sudden changes were difficult for his friend and he didn’t want to push him. It’s not personal. He’s always been anxious. The more times he told himself that lie, the less he believed it. He made Alex uncomfortable. He stretched, and started a short circuit workout. 

He’d completed the circuit twice when Reggie rushed in. “Sorry I’m late. I thought maybe we could use knives today.” 

A harsh cough from the other side of the room had Luke replying “I’ll pass, but you should use one. It’s good to practice with an armed opponent.”

Reggie nodded agreeably. “I’m ready if you are,” 

They started out simple, warming up muscle groups and practicing basics. Julie joined Alex, who was now just intensely observing. 

Reggie was struggling to focus and they definitely should not have been sparring with a knife. Distracted, he nearly stabbed Luke in the stomach. Unthinkingly Luke let himself phase out and the blade passed through harmlessly. 

For a beat no one moved, then Reggie’s face collapsed into guilt, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I could’ve really hurt you.” 

Luke forced an easy smile, “I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m fine. But I think we’re done with weapons today.” 

Reggie nodded carefully, clearly waiting for some other reaction. It came immediately.

“What the hell was that?” Alex demanded, striding towards them. 

Luke turned towards him in confusion. Dread pooled in his stomach. 

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Julie asked, eyebrows creased in worry. 

He opened his mouth to reassure her, but was cut off. 

“You can phase? Can you do the poofing thing?” Alex was squaring up for an argument.    

Luke nodded. The sick feeling was spreading from his gut into his chest. 

“Oh, and now you stop talking too. I thought they had a solution,” frustration and hurt colored Alex’s voice.

“To stop the flickering, so my cellular structure doesn’t degrade. The rest is permanent,” he forced his tone to stay even.

”You didn’t feel the need to tell us? How are we supposed to trust you if you are going to hide things like this?” Alex’s expression closed off. 

“That’s not fair. I wasn’t hiding it, you assumed,” he countered desperately. 

“You let us, and we both know that,” Alex snapped coldly.

“I honestly thought you knew. I wanted you guys to be comfortable,” he was pleading now. 

“Comfortable, right, as if it’s that simple. You were Caleb’s pet nightmare for over a year. Don’t forget that I saw you in the field, I know exactly what you are capable of.  After Julie found you, you were incapable of making your own decisions. You wouldn’t even eat unless someone told you to but then miraculously you wake up as yourself again? Totally believable,” bitter anger leaked through Alex’s voice. 

“So what, you think this is some elaborate scheme with Caleb? That I’m secretly here to kill all of you?” Luke knew better than to rise to the bait, but the combination of fear, pain and anger swirling in his gut made it impossible to resist. First they wouldn’t talk about it, now they were going to use it against him. 

“I don’t know what this is, because I don’t know what you are. You’re not even human anymore.” 

Luke was too stunned to formulate a reply.

“Guys, this isn’t helping anyone.” Reggie broke in, voice shaking. He always hated it when they fought. 

Shock melting into a deep hurt, Luke took a slow breath and popped to the music room, grabbing his electric. He needed to be alone and they’d never look here. His friends still thought he couldn’t play. At first he was excited to tell them that he could, but a feeling of unease had stilled his tongue. Now he was glad he’d decided to wait. It gave him a safe place to be himself and try to work through his emotions. Emotions everyone believed he didn’t have anymore- or that he wasn’t allowed to have. Fuck he was so tired of being looked at like some kind of monster. Hell, Alex had essentially just called him one. The worst part is that he wasn’t even surprised.  He flipped through his notebook until he found an empty page, and let words flow.  

He played until his fingers bled, until his grumbling stomach and shaky hands pulled him out of his spiral. He checked his phone. No calls or messages, but it was much later than he thought. He’d definitely missed dinner, but the fridge had to have some kind of leftovers. 

“I thought you might have run off, you missed the big party,” Bobby drawled. 

Shit. Alex’s birthday dinner. 

“Nah, I just needed some time to myself. Process some things.” 

Bobby shook his head and chuckled darkly. “I’ll bet. Everyone seemed pretty tense.  Never thought I’d say this, but I think they preferred you the way you were when Julie found you.” 

Luke glanced at him sharply. 

“Sure, they kept complaining about wanting the real you back, but you were a lot easier to handle when you followed Julie around like a lost puppy.” 

He rolled his eyes, and huffed a bitter laugh, but the painful seed of doubt knotted in his heart grew. 

“They left you a plate. It’s in the fridge.” 

“Thanks.” 

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.” Bobby said gently, studying him for a moment before rolling away. 

The plate of leftovers wasn’t the only thing in the fridge. The German Chocolate cake he’d made for Alex sat there, untouched. He cut himself a small piece and threw the rest of it away, allowing himself the petty action. 

The next morning everyone acted as though nothing had happened. “Where were you last night? You missed Alex’s birthday dinner.” Julie asked. 

Yeah and you let me, the growing doubt whispered. “I just needed some time to think, so much has changed.” Luke answered mildly. 

“You’ll tell us if you need anything, right?” She looked worried.  

“Of course.” He smiled, even as the lie burned. No one called him on it. The seed bloomed into thorns. 

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi steph! know of any fics where sherlock dates someone else and john gets jealous and confesses his feelings?

Hi Nonny!

AHHHHHHH Okay, so I have this weird thing where I have a hard time reading fics where Sherlock is dating someone else, LOL, because I’m garbage. I dunno why… the closest I can get is fics with Victor Trevor in them as a “replacement” or “past bf” D: I’m so sorry I’m useless in this regard… Methinks these lists may help you out a bit? :)

MY FIC LISTS:

Jealous John

Jealous John Pt. 2 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 2

Jealous John Pt 3 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 3

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 4

ALEXX’S LISTS

John is Jealous of Victor Trevor

Victor Trevor Appears

MORE Victor Trevor/Sherlock (Part 2)

Jealous John

Sherlock with Other Men

John thinks of Sherlock with Other Men

EDIT: ACTUALLY NONNY, I just found an offline list in my folders that I think you will like; I’ve been waiting to post it anyway :P I hope this is good :D

VICTOR TREVOR / VICTOR IS SHERLOCK’S PAST FRIEND (S4)

Unforgiven by 221b_hound (M, 4,721 w., 1 Ch. || Marriage Proposal, Victor Trevor, Jealous / Protective John, Jealous Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past) – Sherlock’s latest case is for his ex boyfriend, the brilliant and handsome Professor Victor Trevor. John is not too happy about that. But things aren’t what they seem, an old friend of John’s is involved in the case, and John has a few surprises up his sleeve. Also - a proposal! Part 16 of Unkissed

Laid Bare by esplanade (T, 6,529 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Fluff, Pining, Angst) – “I suppose it comes as no surprise that I always rather detested grand romantic gestures. They struck me as unnecessary and contrived, feeble attempts at desperately holding together relationships, most of which should have been allowed to fall apart.”

I can’t pretend by Salambo06 (E, 7,692 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Victor Trevor, Jealous John, Miscommunications, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Anal, BJs) – They had arrived more than a hour ago, and the moment they had walked inside the hotel reception, John had understood why Sherlock hadn’t wanted to come. Two men, posh suits and expensive watches on their wrists, had come to greet them with sharp remarks and badly hidden mockery, and John had seen red. Sherlock hadn’t said anything, mostly ignoring the two men entirely, and without thinking twice about it, John had slid an arm around Sherlock’s waist and introduced himself as his husband.

My Life for His by QuinnAnderson (E, 8,816 w., 1 Ch. || Guardian/Protector, Greek Mythology || Growing Up, Sex, Religious Themes, Suicide, Minor Character Death) – It began when Sherlock was eight, and he attempted to climb all the way up to the highest branch in the old willow tree in his back garden. He’d thought he was still small enough that it could support him, but the second he’d grabbed hold of it to pull himself up, the branch snapped, and down he went, plummeting a solid twenty metres. The odd thing was, he never actually hit the ground.

Illogical, even. by magikspell (E, 9,119 w., 1 Ch. || Grey-Ace Sherlock, Character Study, Growing Up, Victor Trevor, Romance, First Time/Kiss, Sherlock-centric) – Five reasons Sherlock never believed in love and one reason he does now.

I’m content as we are (but) by inqui (The_Circus) (E, 13,086 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, UST/RST, Pining, Victor Trevor, Minor Whump, First Kiss / Time, Misunderstandings) – In which John Watson sees something unusual, becomes jealous, and makes too much of a small thing as an old friend of Sherlock’s shows up in the middle of a case.

Say For Me, Love by MirabileLectu (T, 13,147 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Drama, Pining John, Victor Trevor) – If you had asked John this morning what the result of his quiet afternoon at home would be, discovering a truth about Sherlock’s past startling enough to shift the foundations of their friendship would not have been his first guess. So naturally, that was what was bound to happen.

Let’s Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w., 11 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

That Partitioning of the Things of Youth by wearitcounts (E, 35,353 w., 7 Ch. || Humour and Angst, Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, UST / RST, Friends to Lovers, Jealous John) – Victor Trevor is in town, and nobody’s happy.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

Resistivity and Relative Charge by liriodendron (E, 41,750 w., 8 Ch. || Synesthesia, Angst, Case Fic, Romance, Est. Rel., Homophobia, Religious Content, Victor Trevor, Mild Jealous John, Mild John Whump) – In which Sherlock Holmes meets an old acquaintance, John Watson doesn’t enjoy a trip to the country quite as much as he thought he would, and the past absolutely refuses to stay where it belongs. Part 3 of Conductivity

Sacré Coeur by Mamaorion (M, 95,236 w., 27 Ch. || S4 Fix It Rewrite, First Kiss, UST / RST, Eventual Happy Ending, Coming Out, Holmes Family, Marriage Proposal, Husbands, Healing, Evil Mary, Beekeeping, Caretaker Sherlock, Mind Palace, Alzheimer’s Disease, Protective / Big Brother Mycroft, TD-12) – In this s4 fixit, John must piece together the gaps in his altered memory if he and Sherlock are to face the terror that has plagued Sherlock since childhood. As they untangle the web, seven years of hidden love ignite. (TO READ)

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship’s surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there’s more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin’ the eye, he has to choose… is it a pirate’s life for him?

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w., 17 Ch. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We’re all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors ‘Verse

SHERLOCK AND OTHER MEN

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 66,392 + w., 42/56 Ch. || WiP || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being. (MARKED FOR LATER / TO READ)

[universal-kitty]

.: Meeting the Dhampir :.

When my SI met Alucard...and he realized, perhaps he doesn’t have to live alone, wallowing in memories and doubt after all.     [ Adrian “Alucard” Tepes x Rahela (SI) ]

   It had been a few months since Trevor and Sypha had left the grounds, wandering who-knows-where. In that time, Alucard had started adjusting the mess left behind, gathering information and sorting it. The painful, exhausting, daily work of seeing his parents’ work, forever unfinished. Passing by his childhood room- sealed now- and knowing that within still would be a burned carpet. A ruined bed.

   His father had died there.

   He killed his father. Mother long dead by suspicious, paranoid, God-fearing humans... It all made his stomach churn. Perhaps that’s why he never looked at the family painting in the study for more than he could handle.

   Shouldn’t that have been them? Happy, smiling? His mother alive and father content? Adrian Tepes...happy, alongside them?

   Still, the library was getting repaired and tidied up. The castle was slowly looking better every passing day in those long, silent months. Did he break down into tears? Well... Sometimes, not that he’d admit it to anyone. It was better off for him to be here, tending to the grave that was now Belmont and Tepes equally. Figures that it would be a dhampir tending to the old Belmont homestead, though...or what remained of it.

   Did Trevor’s ancestors mind this? Or would they be turning in their graves? Alucard didn’t know if he cared, either way.

   ...Though his thoughts would soon change, one stormy day...

   The thunder rumbled outside, lightning brightening the dark sky in vivid flashes. One of the worst storms Adrian had ever seen in his life... He’d be interested in it, if he wasn’t more fussed about finishing up a room and getting some heat going in the study. He could do that, as soon as he finished this, so... Just a moment longer.

   Task completed, he stepped out into the hall, intent on hurrying to the study and getting the fireplace running... When something caught his ear. A distant sound, so quiet he wondered if it was a mouse. Could one have gotten into the castle? Surely the animals would loathe this weather...and it wasn’t like he’d invested in new doors.

   Who ever would want to put their effort into making new doors for Dracula’s old castle? Not much of anyone, if Adrian had to wager a guess.

   He ignored it, but kept an ear out regardless, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from...and if it was a creature or a human. Petrichor filled his nose, but maybe there would yet be something he could better smell the closer he got...?

   Much to his disappointment, Alucard got to the study before he could find out who or what the sound was, but at least he could get the fire burning before setting his mind to finding out what the mystery sound was. At the very least, he could pinpoint the origin to being somewhere around or in the main entrance hall...

   So Alucard swept his way down and over, walking through the maze of a castle with ease and purpose to the entrance, golden eyes quickly sweeping over the place. The hall seemed empty...but being there now, something definitely didn’t feel right. A presence, somewhere in the room...but where? He couldn’t smell anything that wasn’t rain or earth--

   A sound to his right alerted him, rushing over with his vampire speed to see...a dirty woman? Small sticks and leaves in her hair, with mud and rainwater soaking her clothes; some kind of ragged dress and an equally patched cloak.

   She looked up at him slowly, realizing there was a presence beside her too late, eyes widening when her eyes met his- green to his gold- and lurched back in a hurry, gasping harshly.

   “Ah, ad aeque elaboraret deterruisset eam! Eu has iuvaret delicatissimi, facete urbanitas vulputate eu mea?” Alucard blinked in surprise, staring at the woman. What...in all of the lands was she saying? It sounded...something vaguely like Latin, but also so far removed from it he felt lost. Deeply so.

   “...Pardon me? Can you repeat that?”

   “Sea in natum dignissim, ceteros euripidis ullamcorper te pro!!” She grumbled, frowning and pulling herself closer, into a ball...but shuddered, wincing as she looked down at her sopping wet clothes. Alucard frowned uncertainly, not sure what to do, but wanting desperately to help.

   How can you help someone who doesn’t speak a lick of any language, though?!

   “Hey, um... Are you cold?” He crouched down, pointing to her clothes. She looked at him, confused, then followed his finger to look down at her clothes. “Yes, those. Aren’t they wet and cold?” He pulled his arm back, hands on his upper arms, and gave a fake shiver. She watched him....and the relieved sigh that escaped him when she nodded couldn’t be stopped.

   “Yes, well... I have...a way you can get warm upstairs. Fire, right? You know fire...?” He felt dumb trying to do this, trying to baby-talk his way to getting her to understand him, but if it worked...then it worked, right?

   ...Her staring at him like he’s an idiot didn’t help matters any.

   “Look, just follow me, okay? Getting you to the study will at least help a little bit...” He stood up, gesturing for her to follow. He started walking off, listening intently...and sighed another, softer, relieved sigh when he heard them rush to get up, following after him like a lost dog.

   This would definitely help...or be a good start, as it were.

.:.

   It was a struggle getting her to surrender the coat, but thankfully, after realizing how much warmer the fire could be without it, the nameless little creature in front of his (it...is technically owned by him now, isn’t it?) fireplace gave up her fight, sighing happily at the heat. Still wasn’t dry, but she was doing far better than when he first found her in the entrance hall.

   “We’ll need to get you clean, you know,” he says to her, well aware she won’t understand a word he says. “I have my suspicions some of my mother’s old dresses are still here and I wouldn’t mind lending them to you, but you’ll have to get washed first. I don’t want you getting them dirty.”

   “Eum ne pertinax prodesset,” she says, like it’s some obvious information. He can only roll his eyes.

   “Can’t understand you. Still. Besides, you don’t seem to be living anywhere, if you’re that dirty.” He pauses, staring at her. Now that he’s said it... “Do you have anywhere you live? Do you live with someone?” She looks back and up to him, sitting in his father’s old chair, and Alucard repeats his words, pointing at the floor. “House. Do you live in a house?”

   Shakes her head slowly. He...doesn’t quite like that. That’s worrying, for some feeble little human like she is.

   “So you don’t have anyone else, I’d imagine...” Despite the fact she likely has no idea what he’s saying, the woman lowers her head to the floor with such a deep sadness in her eyes, it makes Alucard’s heart hurt. Did something happen? Does she understand his expressions?

   There’s so many questions, not enough answers, but he hopes that maybe there’s one question that she can answer for him. So he knows something about her...

   “Hey, there’s one more thing I want to ask you,” he starts, leaning forward in the chair. Slowly, she looks back up to him, a pout on her lips. Alucard forces himself to focus on those eyes. A deep green that are sparked with some orange from the firelight. “What’s your name? Do you have a name?”

   “...enim sonet verear no pro?”

   “A name,” he repeats, hopeful. “Like... My name. I’m Alucard.” Does he have to introduce himself like that anymore? He’s not sure and feels like it’s a bit too late to back out. “Your name?”

   She stares at him for a long, long moment, and he begins to lose hope. Well, what did he expect? She seems to be some kind of hermit, circumstances tearing her away from family and other humans... Asking if she had a name might have been like-

   “R... Rahela...” He freezes, eyes widening. Unintentionally, his jaw drops, turning to look at her in shock. Did she...? A coherent name? A coherent word?

   “Did you... What’s your name?”

   “Rahela,” she repeats, with more insistence this time. A smile slowly grows over his face, nodding. There was something there...and maybe- if she had a taste for learning- he could help her. Help them communicate better. And as selfish as it might be, having someone in the castle- no matter for how long- sounded lovely.

   “Rahela... That’s a wonderful name,” he responds with a nod, watching as she seems to fluster at the compliment, looking down at her lap and hands, messing with her own fingers. It’s...kind of endearing. “Thank you for telling me it. I hope I can help you, Rahela. If you need anything, just ask...or, well, gesture, I suppose.” He waves his hands for emphasis, catching her attention and gaining another nod.

   ...Definitely going to be difficult, but it all seems fun, despite the struggles up ahead.

[ficstogo]

Somebody Else Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Go With Your Gut

Summary: Sandra looks back on the beginning of the end.

Word Count: 3,650

Fic Masterlist

“Hey, Harold. Something big came up and I gotta go take care of it. I’ll call you when I get there, or you’ll call me. Whichever.” Shoving her phone back into her pocket, Sandra rushed her and her belongings into her car, preparing to take the long trip to the airport and complete an even longer trip to LS. She was completely livid. The news that Trevor brought had changed her mood from depressed to wanting to blast something in the face with a nailed baseball bat. Thinking back to the phone call the other night only made her fury even more potent than before. Sandra immediately went to find the earliest plane ticket there, buying it as she now had a mission to destroy Michael Townley at all costs. She would have loved it if the night had ended completely different. She would have wanted to keep on the gig of being mad at Trevor and then begin the process of getting to know each other all over again. Just like starting over. Pretend that they were long lost friends of better conditions. Either way, she would’ve continued on with chatting the night away with him with beer and laughter, pretending that he was in the same room as she was.

The night ended much differently though. After getting her things to fit in her suitcase, Sandra called Dr. Harvey about her mother being deathly ill, and having to visit her back home. She brought the rest of the leftover beers from her fridge to her bedroom and drank away. For a small while, the feeling of wanting to cry left her after that phone call. All she felt was anger, but it all came back to her at once when her angry thoughts turned sour once more. These were the circumstances that lead to Trevor calling her. If not this, she more than likely wouldn’t hear from him for another ten years or never at all and it broke her. She really had no friends. She really didn’t mean much to Trevor, except for the fact that she only helped to fuel the idea that he was in the right side of things for once. Sandra enabled that his feelings justified what he wanted to do because another person felt the same. Then thoughts led to her other friend. Her “dead” friend. Why? Why in the hell would he do something so god awful like that? For so long she blamed herself for what happened back at North Yankton. She remembered how nice Michael had been when Trevor freaked on her on not being on that last heist. How nice he was when she snapped at them. Because of that, she hated herself for so long. For letting her anger and pettiness be the reason that she never saw her friends again.

.~.~.~.~.~.

Sandra laid on her worn out couch staring at the ceiling with the television filling in the silence. She was waiting for a call to hear where the next race would take place and when. It was an easy way of making money, although at the moment, she had enough to make life easy for at least four more months, give or take. But that was far from her mind. She needed something to do, something to keep her occupied and racing was a productive way of doing that. Having enough of the noise, she turned off the small, shitty television and continued to lose herself in her thoughts. Although she would have loved to ring up the boys and see if they could go out for a night of drinking, they all had to lay low for another week. By then, Michael would be busy playing house and Trevor would be too busy hanging out with his best friend. A friend that seemed to overshadow her. Sandra didn’t mind Brad, but she couldn’t help but feel that as each day passes, she was slowly losing Trevor to him. He was a handful and she knew it, but Trevor was her mess of a man to deal with since the beginning. As for Michael, he had a family to look after as strange as that sounded. He was no family man, but when the news about Amanda’s pregnancy came out, the idea of abandoning his children was unbearable. He did not want to be like his father and so the decision to stay had stuck.

Thinking about Amanda led a frown to form on Sandra’s face. It was understandable that Amanda wouldn’t want the crew around Michael anymore, she got that. If she had a family, she would try to drop that life as soon as she could, but what grinds her gears was the way Amanda is. She acted so...privileged, so uppity, so above everyone as though she was queen bee. She knew Amanda viewed them as scum level, trailer trash, as though she had the right to say what’s proper living. She was a goddamn stripper-turned-prostitute who had a boob job and suddenly had a god complex. Then again, maybe she always had that. She lived in a trailer too for god sakes! Sandra’s way of making a living wasn’t honest, but she sure as hell was smart enough to avoid selling herself to strange men. That was something she made sure of. She has no right to treat any of them like shit. What was worse was that she always came after Sandra. She only assumed it was to assert her dominance in Michael's life like some small feeble minded animal. Maybe it was because she was one of Michaels female friends that he might have a thing for. As if. Either way, it was a classic girl-on-girl hate game that played on and she really really hated it. Sandra imagined clawing her eyes out and throwing a few punches here and there while saying things to ruin what little self-esteem she had left. The only reason she hadn’t gone full swing was because it was her friend's wife and she did not want to risk that relationship. At this moment, all her relationships were dwindling.

The sudden ring from the coffee table startled her away from her thoughts. Sitting up to see which phone was ringing, she knew it was the small black one informing her that this was a business call that needed to be answered. “Hello?” She said groggily to the other end.

“L’s, tonight, eight a’clock.” And the line went dead. Feeling buzzed from the call, she was happy that there was going to be new work to do.

.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Tying up her long dark hair into a ponytail, Sandra took a look at her bright brown eyes in the rearview mirror. They had bags under them from the lack of sleep the weeks previous provided her. She prepped herself for the excitement that this meeting would bring. She was happy that after this hiatus, she could finally get off her ass and do something to ease the boredom once more. Tugging on her jacket, she exited her car and walked towards the small, mobile trailer. With the light from the trailer blanketing her, she knocked a steady rhythm. Sandra took a look around her as the snow kept falling to make the bare area look like a winter wonderland. The sound of the creaking door in front took her attention as she now laid her eyes on a small, weak-looking man, with the iciest blue eyes she’s seen in her life.

“Glad you could make it.” Lester said as he moved to the side for Sandra to walk through. Peeking his head through the door, he takes a few seconds to look around outside as his paranoid self does whenever guests come over.

“Couldn’t possibly skip out on a chance to win some big bucks.” There in the room stood Michael, focused and out of touch with what was going on at the moment. He was more than likely thinking in great detail of the events that would unfold. Trevor stood with his god awful mullet and stache, having a frown to go with the threatening look that he’s pulling off so well. And then Brad, who sat on one of the small raggedy sofas with a bored look, a look that wasn’t new whenever he attended these meetings.

“So boys, what's the score?” Her voice projected in an amused yet confident tone. They all turned to look after her, happy to get this meeting started.

“North Yankton State Bank.” Michael said with eagerness in his voice.

“You’re serious!?” Sandra chuckled out with a quirked brow as she sat at the small table in the room.

“As serious as I can be. It may not be much but it’ll sure as hell cover us for a good while.”

“No complaints here.”

.~.~.~.~.~.

As Lester finished up with his presentation, there was the question that always came to mind when discussing any heist. “What are the chances we make it out clean?” With her hands clasped on top of the table, her eyes focused on the blueprint in front of her.

“Do you want the answer that feeds into doing this job or do you want my actual god honest opinion?”

“The answer that won’t send me to my grave early.”

Lester looked at each of the thieves with a nervous expression risen on his face and hesitated only for a second to answer. “...I don't think that this job is something you guys can go through.”

“Oh come on Lest! What do you mean we cant? We got the best the of the best here! We're gonna make it through it and we're gonna make it through it rich.” Trevor exclaimed. He wanted so bad to go through with this score and he wanted everyone to be apart of it. He’d cut Lester’s tongue out if this was going to change Sandra’s mind.

“And then we can finally end it here.” Michael calmly said with what sounded as if he let out a welcomed sigh.

“What do you mean “end it”?” Her head slowly turned to Michael as her eyes squinted in skepticism.

“You didn’t tell her?” Lester said in surprise, looking between his companions once more.

“Shut it, mole man!” Trevor yelled, only to see Lester squirm back from his outburst.

“Uh, Me and Trev have been talkin’-”

“We decided to end the partnership after this job. Sorry for you to be the last to know Sandy.” Trevor said as he looked away from her. He knew how much they meant to her because he felt the same with them. It killed him when Michael opened up about how he wanted to leave them and it murdered him when he decided for it. He was going to tell Sandra but for some reason, he always found something to distract him from doing that. He realized now how that could go wrong.

“Wait wait wait wait. I know that this job would cover us for a good while but are you guys seriously deciding on not doing this anymore?” Her dirt eyes looked back and forth between the two as her chest felt constriction.

“You know I got a family S, I can't keep doing this.” Michael said as he looked to the floor, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t risk their lives because of him. He didn’t want his children to visit him in prison and know their father to be a pitiful loser who couldn’t do any better in providing for them. He didn’t want to be absent in their lives, let alone because he was six feet underground. Michael just couldn’t find himself doing that to them. He wanted to be better. For them.

“And I never said I was done. Me and Brad, we’re gonna go places.”

“Oh really? And where does that leave me, huh? Where am I in all of this? All four of you decided to have this chat and leave me out! Do I really not count in anything?”

“No! Sandy that’s not why-”

“Cut the shit! I noticed how I've been the last in anything nowadays. And you told Lester instead of the person who’s gotten your backs since the start! The person that almost slept her way to make extra cash when we needed it bad! The person who drives your asses out the heat before the cops could get on to us!?”

“San-”

“What’ll screw us over on this?” Sandra said in a firm tone as she turned her attention instantly to Lester.

“Uh, right of course. Our main problem is security and the time frame. I'm afraid that it's too short for any of you to make it to the van on time.” Lester flustered out. Even though Michael gave hints about it being the last job, he honestly thought that Sandra would be the first he talked to about it. They always seemed to be more connected but then again it was hard when all three of them were so close to each other. When Lester met them, it was like high school. The new kid meeting the clique and how it was hard to break through their barrier that they’ve built up together. Although this is all business, he did feel like the outsider with their group. Eventually, he turned to the person they always praised and respect. Well two of the three, he should say.

“Fuck security! They can’t do shit to us! And we’ll be fast! As long as we know the plan like clockwork, we’ll be home free!” Brad said with confidence.

“For once, Brad’s right. We’ll do this and we’ll do this with no repercussions. Sandy, this job will be like any other job we’ve done. There’s no way we can fuck this up!” Michael said. He could see that she wasn’t convinced and he needed her to see it his way. He needed this and he needed her on this job.

Only thoughts battled within her head. It was a good score but the fact that Lester wasn’t a hundred percent behind it like he usually is is what was really breaking the tie on what she should do. “I trust that you guys can’t fuck it up but I trust Lester more on this. You know I don’t go full on without Lester’s approval on it.”

“Oh come on Sandra-D!” There it was. The stupid nickname they used whenever they wanted her to do something that she was stubborn on. How Marty McFly hated being called a chicken, she hated being called Sandra-D. It had the same punch of being called a pussy and it always worked in their favor. She had too much of an ego and pride to back out, but she knew that nickname wouldn’t work this time. “You use to go into jobs head-on before we ever met Lester! Whatever it was, you never hesitated! What happened to the old Sandy!?” Trevor said in a passion with his hands slammed on the table, looking straight at Sandra, a desperate fire burning in his eyes.

“That old Sandy was stupid and almost got herself killed and caught more times than she can count because she thought it was a good idea to listen to you two fuck heads!” She said as she rose herself in the same position as Trevor. “Fuck you guys! I ain’t doing this job!” She yelled as she grabbed her jacket from the back of her seat and headed to the door.

“Are you fucking serious!? Are you fucking with me right now!? This is our last Goddamn heist together and you can’t help but fuck this up for us!? You’re a real bitch, you know that, Sandra!? You can’t even do this one thing for us without that stick up your ass!”

“Trevor!” Michael yelled.

“How about I get that stick that’s in my ass and fucking beat the living shit out of you, you fucking psychotic good for nothing piece of shit!” She yelled stalking towards him as a force that couldn’t be stopped. “If you wanna talk about who fucks up what, let’s talk about your fucking star moments, huh! At least I don’t fucking kill any of the goddamn hostages because they looked at me funny! At least I’m not the one that drives everyone into hiding because the cops are onto us for a fucking murder case! At least I’m not the one who tries to start shit up while we’re trying to lay low!” She continued on at his face. Everytime they were on a job, she always had to worry about him doing just that and it always made her more anxious than what she should be. She already had to worry about making sure she didn’t mess up. She had to make sure that the everything was going to plan. She had to worry about not getting in a wreck whenever they drove off. Sandra did not need that extra weight on her.

As she walked past the men, she felt a grip on her arm like their life depended on it and it did. “Sandra! Wait! We need you. I can’t get another driver as good as you! You’re the only one that I trust on anything and this is big! We’ll be fucked without you.” Michael was pleading with her. There was a desperate look in his eyes and damn, did she nearly gave into it but she needed to show them her ground and she needed to show how true his words were. They would be fucked without her. It was petty but she didn’t give a damn at the moment.

Yanking her arm out of his hand, she looked him straight into his true blue eyes and said, “Good.”

As she walked out the door, all that was left behind was Trevor yelling “I don’t wanna hear you begging for money from us, you hear!? You don’t get any of the damn cut! You don’t deserve shit!”

.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Sandra found herself staring at the ceiling once more as the anger still coursed through her body. This was complete bullshit. The feeling of being left out was just that. A feeling. Then being the last to know of some news that would change her life only made her feel even more distant from them than before. What happened? What suddenly changed their dynamic from sticking together like the family they were to not even speaking to each other like the way they use to, she didn’t know.

The sudden ring from her phone startled her. Rolling her eyes at her jumpy self, she picked it up and answered the call. “Yeah?”

“Hey…” Great. It was this smooth talking bastard calling. Probably to try and convince me into this job.

“What?” Sandra said with her attitude giving a hint about how she was feeling.

“I just called to...I just wanna know if you’re alright. After everything, especially what Trevor said, I just needed to know if you were alright.” That wasn’t what she was expecting.

Taking her anger down a notch she sighed and responded. “Um, yeah. I mean, I’ll be alright. I’m a little pissed but I’ll get over it.” Closing her eyes, Sandra tried to waver off the remainder of her anger so as to continue having a calm conversation with Michael.

“You got every right to be. Look, I wanted to call and say I’m sorry for being an asshole. I should’ve told ya what I was planning and I’m sorry about the shit Trevor said. You know how he can get.”

“Yeah, I know. I wasn’t expecting anything different from him.” She rubbed her forehead as she thought back about earlier in the night. She hated it. Hated how bad it got. “But he’s right. I shouldn’t be such a bitch and back off from what we got planned. It’s our last job and I can-”

“No, don’t worry about what Trevor said. Don’t let him guilt you into doing anything you don’t wanna do.”

“And what do you want me to do?”

“...To be honest, I really want you to be apart of this. It is our last. But we’ve always gone with our gut feelings. Mine’s telling me we can do this, yours is tellin’ you we can’t. It’s better if we went with how we feel. No hesitation.” That thought only made her want to laugh. The last time she went with how she felt things began to feel different between the two of them and when they finally fixed what was bothering them, it only left her a bit hurt.

“I’m sorry Mikey. I just...I can’t shake off this bad feeling I got. We always went with what Lester says and it always saves our skins but I get why you’re doing this. Just be safe.”

“Hey! Don’t worry about nothin’! We got this covered. And forget about what T said. I’ll slip you a couple grand under your door when we get back.” Michael said in a confident yet hushed tone. Probably didn’t want Amanda to overhear him.

“You always spoil me, you know that?” She chuckled. It always felt like playing house with those two. When one said no, the other said yes.

“Anything for you, Sandy.” She could only imagine him winking at her as he said that, like the smooth bastard he is. With their moment of laughing, Sandra’s ears perked at the faint sound of someone calling his name in the background. Of course. Typical. “I gotta go, Sandy. Just wait till I’m knockin’ on your front door. You’d wish you came along.”

“Anything you say, M.” She sarcastically laughed. “Prove me wrong.” and there, she hung up and stared at the ceiling once more but this time with a small smile on her face.

[daddyd0nt]

i usually have my ringtone set as either Trevor’s from GTAV or the opening musical number from “Meet The Feebles” but halloween/christmas season has begun so until january i got this shit set to the Gremlins theme song

[sassysweetstories]

Empress Part 8

Summary: You’re apart of the 100. You’re very bad-ass and don’t take shit from no-one. However, the longer you’re on earth, the more complicated things become.

Ship: Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader, Dimitri!Grounder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, crying, angst, swearing, minor smut, fighting,mentions of abuse, blood, gore, etc.

Notes: none of these gifs are mine, credit to owners. i realize not all of this is side by side accurate to the show, bare with me. i hope you enjoy!

Tagged: @bailey-hoover @kiralivelove @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw@anamcg317 @bellasett @queentiffanyyy @archer-whovian-violinist @beingmadinwonderland @princessisabelle19@violence-and-velvet @lachicadelamanzana

First P.O.V

Trevor glances up at me with a haunting smirk. His eyes are so dark,  they don’t look like the irises of the boy I’ve grown to know. They don’t look the same, nor are they far from his own. Murphy’s been whispering in his ear. That little snake. “Trevor, hun. You don’t need to do this.” I say in a warm tone. He’s weak around me which unsettles me more. I can control him but I”m not sure about Murphy. The older boy smirks at me before tutting. “Don’t move, (Y/n). our beef isn’t with you. Just sit there and look pretty and we want have a problem.” I sigh at my constant need to disobey. “You know I can’t. Look, Blake’s an ass. No doubt about it. And it kills me to say it but we need him. Murphy, I don’t blame you for how you were treated but the choices you make who you are. They are manacles. Weights for you to bare alone. Don’t let this be one of them.” 

I can tell my words have an effect on him that only lasts a moment before he smirks up at me with a sly smile. “You’d be a good diplomat. Almost had me with those pretty eyes-” he says, waving his gun around absentmindedly. It makes my stomach flip with nerves. “You move, princess, and I won’t hesitate.” Trevor’s jaw drops. Threatening me was not apart of their plan. “MURPHY!” Trevor gawks, disgusted by his betrayal. “Go grab the rope and tie her up. Fofill some fantasies while you’re at it.” The young boys cheek turn a heavy pink with embarrassment while Bellamy and I recoil in disgust. I don’t even realize how close Murphy is to me until I feel him wrap his hand around my throat, knocking me down to my knees with a painful blow. “Stop!” Bellamy shouts with a voice  of urgency. 

I try not to flinch under Murphy's burning grip that only seems to tighten. “Have I hit a nerve, Blake?” Murphy accuses, wild eyes shifting between him and I. Why would I mean anything to him? I can’t help but wonder. Before I can even find the answer, the older boy yanks my head by my hair, jamming the front of the revolver into the side of my throat. “Get on the stool or I blow her brains out.” Though Trevor and Bellamy want to fight back, they are no match for a gun. He digs the head of the weapon further in and I can’t help but choke, an innate reaction. Bellamy grabs the noose before glancing at me with a knowing look. Help is coming. His eyes seem to scream. “So what do plan on doing after I’m dead?” He ties the noose, idling by. He’s stalling. Murphy shrugs, absentmindedly, admiring the sight of Blake about to hang himself. 

“Once you’re dead, things will fall into place. Maybe we finally put a leash on your little princess.” I know I should stay quiet but I can’t help myself. “I’m no one’s property bitch.” He chuckles darkly, barely focusing on me and my feeble attempt to hurt his ego. His eyes never seem to leave Bellamy as he finishes tying the noose. “Get on the chair.” Murphy commands eyes wild with vengeance. My gaze never leaves the Blake boy. There’s a shift in him, a change that I can’t name until I look into his brown irises: fear. I know it all too well because that’s how I’ve looked my whole life. It’s strange to see yourself in someone else. He steps up slowly, hands shaking as he does so. And before I even know it Murphy kicks the chair out from under him. Without thinking I yelp in fear, clutching my mouth at the sad sight that laid before me. 

I almost forgot the lack of grip around my neck and knock Murphy down to the ground with a loud thud. “Fucking, bitch!” He screams back at me before knocking my knees to floor with his thighs. I’d find the interaction attractive if I actually thought Murphy was appealing but he’s not. He wraps his hands around my throat again, squeezing I flinch and recoil, forgetting all my training. The action reminds me too much of him. When I try to push him off, his grip tightens and my vision blurs. All  of a sudden, I grasp and heave, taking in as much air as my body can allow. Through blurry eyes I can see Trevor push Murphy down. He holds him for a minute but he’s not big or strong enough to keep him centered. I try to get up but I’ve yet to even catch my breath before Murphy gets up and pulls the trigger Trevor’s head falls to the ground with an abrupt and haunting thud. 

I tear my gaze away from the blood that’s already starting to stain the tiles. Though it’s a horrible thought, I can’t let another face haunt my dreams. Another loud crack of a whip irrupts from above and I can’t help but sigh relief at the sigh of Bellamy, noose free. Octavia holds him close while Jasper aids me up. “Bellamy...” I mutter softly but am soon wrapped in his arms. His embrace is warm and soothing, almost enveloping me in a layer of heat. “I thought I lost you..” Bellamy’s voice rumbles deep within his chest, cracking at the ends. He pulls away far too quickly than I’d like before examining my body.  He takes my face in his large calloused hands. They fit nicely, more than I’d like to admit. “Are you hurt?” Where else did he get you-” He traces the outline of where Murphy’s hands were. “That son of a bitch.. When I get my hands on him-” His eyes grow dark with blood lust and I can’t help but catch his palms in my own, pulling him out of his stupor. 

“Bellamy.. I’m okay.” His chocolate brown eyes shoot up to meet mine, surprised by something as simple as a name change. “Don’t get use to it, Blake.” I pull his arms away from me and notice Clarke and Finn enter, looking broken, bloody and disheveled. Bellamy is hot on my tail, his gaze never really leaving me for long despite Clarke’s immediate attention. “We need to leave now.” she says, looking worn out and tired, but alert nonetheless. “The grounders are coming.” Bellamy puffs out his chest in detest, reeking of toxic masculinity. “No, we should stay and fight.” I can’t help but scoff. “There’s no way in hell we’d survive. They’e proven to us a thousand times, if not more, how cruel and tactile they can be! They put fucking poison in Murphy to leve the playing field for war. We’ve seen their loyalty, their drive. They will rip us apart. We need to leave the camp now.” 

“NO!” Bellamy barks back and I try not to flinch at the sound. “We can’t just run away from everything we’ve worked so hard for! This is our home!! We need to flight for it!!” I can’t help but groan, down right tired and irritable. I grab his shoulders and jerk him into direction off the youngest 100 members. “Will you let them die?! Do you honestly think they can fight?! Bellamy-” The name change and softer tone take him by surprise. “We can’t have a home if there’s nobody to help make one.” I push Clarke and Finn to start packing while I head out for food and scout the perimeter. I don’t let anyone accompany me, can’t have more causalities or blood on my hands no matter how dark that sounds. I trace out a trail leading up norther into the cooler lands that seem to cascade along the forest. 

As I draw nearer into what feels like the mountain tops, a loud ruckus irrupts from over the treeline. Resting my stuff against the tree, I crouch low to the ground and cover my face with my cloak. I watch as some of Lincoln's clan fights another. The biggest distinction is that they sport a bright blue bandanna around their right arms, just below their armpits. Dimitri’s clan. Hope and fear play an equally strong roll with my emotions. I hope to see his face once more for what could be my last. But I also fear that it could be him fighting amongst the sea of warriors. All of a sudden, one of the grounders knocks a blue man to the side before more men surround him, foam practically forming at their mouths. His golden blonde hair, now bare for the world too see. Dimitri. My heart drops and I don’t think, just react. 

I shoot two arrows into the nearest grounders thighs before jumping up to fight two more, taking them down with ease. When I turn around, Dimitri’s sword is right up to my throat. I rip off the top of my cloak so nobody can see my face, just my irises, the gaze he told me he loves. His muscles shift his eyes flicker. We go back to back, two powerful beings paving a a road to something much much stronger. Dimitri and I move as one, an undeniably perfect flow. We are stronger than any current. I dodge the attacks as best I can, even pushing Dimitri out of the way when a knife scrapes up against my thigh. I hiss in pain but never stop moving. When the rest of the grounders are dead, Dimitri and his sun blue army flock around us, observing me suspiciously. All except for three of them whom I assume are Ruker, Sloane and Dante. The two wave at me while Ruker nods in respect or approval. 

Some of them gawk at me altogether. Surprised to see a living sky person. Ruker nods at me again befoore leading the fifteen of them back to their camp. Dimitri hesitates. But once they’re at a save distance, he takes my hands in his, closing the distance. “Thank you for protecting, princessa. As well as my people.” I can’t help but smile. “It was nothing-” I shrug nonchalantly, shifting off my hurt thigh. “I hope to see you again. I’m moving my people away from the clans. So I’m not sure when I’ll see you again.” I admire his features while I can before pulling away. “Goodbye, Dimitri.” he tugs my arm ever so slightly. “Wait-” Before I can distance myself, make the pain hurt less, he tugs down my handkerchief and smashes his lips onto mine. I nearly fall back at the passion he provides. 

It takes me a minute to realize where it’s coming from. He’s afraid he won’t see me again. I pull him in close, touch his chest, waist, shoulders, everything I can get my hands on to remember him. I try to feel all of him before it’s too late. When he pulls away, we both catch our breathe’s and I can’t help but shiver under the warm air that seems to fall down my face and shoulders. Our noses graze and I don’t want to let go of such an intimate moment. It might be my last. “I love you.” I mutter against his lips, honestly. I can already see myself dying a thousand different ways and every one of them I regret not telling Dimitri how I really feel towards him. He needs to know just in case. His eyes widen at my confirmation. 

But what takes me by surprise is how certain he is. “I love you, too, princessa.” He pulls me in for one more passionate kiss before I pry myself from his warm embrace and return back to my people. It may be the last time I feel his touch. The thought alone makes me shudder with fear. Just as I’m starting to breathe again, death seems to loom over my shoulder. Just as I cross over the last treeline, a large body pushes me up against the tree with a loud thud. “Time to start praying princess because the only person on your side right now is God.” Bellamy glares down at me. 

(I hope you guys liked it! PLEASE FUCKING COMMENT!) 

[tenaflyviper]

Please explain the plot of the Peter Jackson movie "Meet the Feebles". I found the full movie on YouTube, and I an a little curious. - Chan

“Meet the Feebles” is what “The Muppets” would have been like if they failed to have a syndicated show, and the cast members had issues with drug abuse, adultery, sexually transmitted diseases, sexual abuse, and violent manslaughter.

Heidi the hippo–like Ms. Piggy–is the starlet of the show, and married to the troupe’s manager, Bletch (a walrus).  However, due to Heidi’s aging and weight gain, Bletch has been seeing Samantha (a cat) on the side.  At one point, Samantha even confronts Heidi about her relationship with Bletch, and viciously insults her, causing Heidi to spiral into a deep depression.

Meanwhile, innocent Robert the hedgehog–a newcomer to the troupe–has fallen for fellow newcomer Lucille (a lovely and kind French poodle).  Trevor the rat and F.W. (a fly who happily loves to munch on excrement) make porno films in the basement of the studio, while dealing drugs on the side.  Vietnam vet Wynyard (a frog, I think?) can often be found strung out on drugs on the bathroom floor (and will take pretty much anything he can get his hands on for a fix).  Harry the hare has the habit of hiring prostitutes, and has picked up some unidentified STD.  His doctor has given him little time to live.

When it seems like the troupe is finally going to hit the big time with a syndicated show, Trevor plots to recruit Lucille into pornography by drugging and raping her for an “audition”, Heidi attempts to commit suicide after learning that Bletch plans to replace her with Samantha (both in the show, and in their relationship), Harry’s STD is taking a horrifying turn, knife-throwing Wynyard tries to perform while tripping balls, and Sebastian the fox decides that performing a song about his love for sodomy (complete with steam-spouting prop phalluses!) is somehow going to salvage the program.

Eventually, Heidi–having failed to commit suicide because no noose could hold her weight–acquires an assault rifle, and ensures that there will be no future for The Feebles.

The film is a very bleak, very black comedy that failed theatrically, but has since garnered a strong cult following.  It is definitely NOT for children, nor anyone with a weak stomach.  Despite having a cast of anthropomorphic animals, the picture is gross, vulgar, lewd, and offensive…and not trying to be anything less.  It is fully intended to be the harshest parody possible of its inspiration, and on that level, certainly succeeds.

[downloadarmy]

Meet the Feebles

Heidi, the star of the “Meet The Feebles Variety Hour” discovers her lover Bletch, The Walrus, is cheating on her. And with all the world waiting for the show, the assorted co-stars must contend with drug addiction, extortion, robbery, disease, drug dealing, and murder. Meanwhile the love between two of the stars is threatened by Trevor the Rat, who wishes to exploit the young starlet for use in…

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Robert Daniels on 812 Film Reviews: CIFF Reviews: Atlantics, Vitalina Varela, and Invisible Life

Other than love, no human emotion permeates as potently as loss—partly because grief is love’s complication. At the Chicago International Film Festival, three foreign language pictures: Atlantics, Vitalina Varela, and Invisible Life intimately reinvent the melodrama to heartening effect— accomplished through exemplary filmmaking, in three nourishing portraits of loss.

On the shores of Dakar, the capital city of Senegal—surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean’s lightning striking waves, sees Mati Diop’s Atlantics: which in its wake  leaves a ghost story enlivened by love and economic instability. 

In Dakar, a skyscraper, mirroring a glass Barad-dûr, remains unfinished as chaos holds sway. Senegalese construction workers perform near mutiny, as the developer Mr Ndiaye (Diankou Sembeneowes) owes many of these young men up to three months worth of backpay. One of these workers is Souleiman (Ibrahima Traoré): who’s madly in love with Ada (Mame Bineta Sane, giving a sensational performance)—betrothed to the wealthy Omar (Babacar Sylla) in an arranged marriage. While Souleiman and Ada’s teenage affection for one another courses deeply, the economic struggle in Darkar remains cavernous. To make real money, the young men: including Souleiman, board a boat to Spain—braving the long and arduous journey across the ocean. 

Atlantics sets off as a tale of star-crossed lovers: Ada and Souleiman separated by an ocean. But after her wedding bed mysteriously becomes engulfed in flames, it turns into Ada’s struggle for independence, eschewing the control of her parents and Omar. In the meantime, eyewitness reports say that Souleiman—who should still be at sea—set the fire. Inspector Cheikh (Abdou Balde) comes to investigate, but the origins of this crime crests in several phantasmagorical swells.  

Diop fashions a mood: a deliberate swirl of Ada’s grief and her struggles against sexism. Often, in these instances, Diop can be caught solely existing in a stream of spirits rather than moving through a series of terrifying events. She absorbs the surroundings, catching the sounds of waves and the torn down dusty winds. Gorgeously shot by cinematographer Claire Mathon, we’re entranced by haunting specters—where the sun, the haze, and the ocean’s water soaking Dakar and Ada are bathe in regret. And by that same token, Diop—under the sun, the haze, and the ocean’s water—fashions a mesmerizing piece on love’s survival—even under the weight of oppression.   

The Cape Verde set Pedro Costa film Vitalina Varela opens with impressionistic strains of mourning: Black men in suits walking down a somber compact lane with crosses planted high above the surrounding walls, foreshadows this somber tale of loss youth that mixes horror and magical realism.

Set in the Lisbon shantytown of Fontainhas, and starring the eponymous Vitalina Varela—who previously starred in the Costa’s Horse Money, Varela arrives back upon the death of her husband. The now deceased man—who she built a house with, then left her and promised to bring her to Lisbon—left multiple broken promises. Varela is left to sort through feelings of abandonment and betrayal, while confronting the secrets left by a person she may never have really known. Along the way, she meets a guilt-ridden priest (Ventura). He spends his days wandering the streets of Fontainhas mumbling prayers to his long gone parishioners, devout believers he turned away and then lost in a bus accident. Varela, once part of his flock as a young girl, now needs him. She yearns to speak to her husband, to gain the answers left unchecked in life, to move on.

Costa weaves their plight through mesmerizing dreamlike nocturnal images, sourcing from magical realism to adorn discussions of mourning and death: One can only speak to the dead through Portuguese says Ventura. Vitalina Varela lends itself to instances of lyrical beauty. A storyteller should always understand when logic impedes upon poetic interpretation, and Costa, more than any other knows such. Does he need to explain the metaphorical domestic doom of Varela living in the crumbling house her husband built? Is he required to justify these divine moments, like a silhouetted Valera standing upon her roof while the wind violently whips around her? No, masters of the elegiac need not measure every somber sigh. In this Portuguese drama, Costa proves his immense talent for matching the esoteric with the human.       

The author Antonya Nelson once remarked on William Trevor’s short story ‘Folie à Deux,’ “[it’s] a connection that once existed,” or the loss of a friend. We initially see Eurídice (Carol Duarte) and Guida (Julia Stockler) sitting on a smooth rocky beach, surrounded by the jungle. Later, they lose each other among those hostage taking trees, a metaphorical opening for the wilderness of life and oppressive gender roles that halts their close sisterhood in Karim Aïnouz’s hauntingly melodramatic Invisible Life.   

Set during the 1950’s in Rio de Janeiro, Eurídice and Guida’s separation begins very early. The teenage Eurídice dreams of studying piano at a conservatory in Vienna. Guida is entangled in a relationship with a Greek sailor Iorgos. After a night of romance, where she leaves her sister to cover for her, Guida runs off to marry her beau. That decision will have dire consequences for both as Eurídice becomes married to the feeble Antenor (Gregório Duvivier) while Guida is left pregnant by the playboy Iorgos. The now childbearing sister is disowned by her father and cut off from all contact from Eurídice.

Aïnouz’s narrative is made all the more poignant because of how unnervingly close Eurídice and Guida come to reuniting and the multiple ways morally weak patriarchal figures lock them away. Partly epistolary, their father holds onto their years-long correspondence, hiding them from each respective party—proverbial messages in a bottle left adrift due to an obstinate tide. Moreover, Guida can’t travel to Vienna to search for her sister because the law doesn’t allow a passport to a woman without her husband’s signature. Nevertheless, unbeknownst to Guida, Eurídice remains landlocked from traveling to Vienna by a husband who believes his wife’s place is at home. All the while, both live decades in Rio de Janeiro without the other knowing. The events move with the wistfulness of a dream, and the emotional trauma of a nightmare.

Lost in the metaphorical jungle, the gulf between their sisterhood spans mere blocks. However, the true tragedy of Karim Aïnouz’s potent Invisible Life arrives with how long they spend before they know relief.  

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[newyorktheater]

Paddy Considine as Quinn Carney (center, standing) and the company of The Ferryman

By the time “The Ferryman” has ended, we have been treated to a breathtaking mix of revenge action thriller, romance, melodrama, family saga, and a feast of storytelling – ghost stories, fairy stories, stories of Irish history and politics, stories of longing and of loss.

Jez Butterworth’s play about farmer Quinn Carney and his sprawling, colorful family is rich, sweeping entertainment — epic, tragic….and cinematic.

No, director Sam Mendes, best known as a film director (American Beauty, Road to Perdition, Spectre), doesn’t use projection design or other movie-like technical touches. Unlike his James Bond films, nobody travels to exotic locations around the globe. Indeed, after an ominous prologue, the play takes place entirely in Ron Howell’s lived-in feeling set of a living room of the Carney’s old stone house in County Armagh, Northern Ireland.

But “The Ferryman” comes closer to a movie than to most plays these days in several ways:  Its scale — there are some two dozen actors, all terrific, most making their Broadway debuts; its embrace of naturalism — there’s a live baby, a bunny, and a goose! — and simultaneously of myth; its willingness to mine archetypes, and its bold use of familiar storylines from crowd-pleasing genres.

The playwright and the director pull this off through skilled construction – a masterful sense of suspense, and of when to focus and when to pull back to show the panorama.  A significant joy of “The Ferryman” is sharing in the characters’ excitement, dancing, singing, joking and general hubbub during the Harvest and the Harvest Feast that follows.

“The Ferryman” was inspired by a true story.  Several months before Laura Donnelly was born in Belfast, her 26-year-old uncle, who was involved with the Irish Republican Army, vanished. Three years later, his body was found in a bog.

Donnelly told this story to the playwright,  her partner at the time. She is the actress who now (winningly) portrays Caitlin Carney in “The Ferryman,” a woman whose husband Seamus Carney disappeared ten years ago. At the outset of the play, his body has been found in a bog, with a gunshot in the back of his head. Seamus was the brother of Quinn Carney (an anchoring Paddy Considine.)  It is August, 1981, a time when imprisoned members of the IRA have gone on hunger strike, and are starving to death one by one.  A leader in the IRA, Mr. Muldoon (a deep-voice, smooth-talking villain portrayed by Stuart Graham) visits the Carneys with a two henchmen and a warning: With the hunger strikes focusing world attention on The Troubles, this is not the right time to be making accusations against the IRA; they need to accept “that what happened to Seamus was a tragedy which had absolutely nothing to do with us.”

Quinn, we learn, has a past with Muldoon; he was a soldier, but gave it up ten years ago – right before his brother’s disappearance.

Caitlin has lived with Quinn’s family ever since, and she’s more or less taken responsibility for Quinn’s seven children (now aged 16 to nine months), while their mother Mary (an ethereal Genevieve O’Reilly) retreats to her bed with a series of imagined “viruses.” It’s clear from the very first scene, when they’re dancing to the Rolling Stones, that Caitlin and Quinn seem to have a special….rapport.

These plotlines give “The Ferryman” forward thrust.  But the many characters and their stories give it beauty; and the underlying themes give it heft. This is a play full of storytellers, who understand the importance of a good yarn well-told. We’re cued in early to this when Quinn’s Aunt Pat (Dearbhla Molloy) ridicules her brother Uncle Pat (Mark Lambert) after he recalls his first Harvest Feast. “You know what irks me most about this ‘story’? It isn’t one,” Aunt Pat says, in a monologue that is both amusing and that introduces us to her bitterness – which we eventually learn was caused by the death of her older brother during the Easter Rising of 1916.

Nearly every character sooner or later gets their moment in the sun, many of them telling stories, We first meet Aunt Maggie Faraway (the great Fionnula Flanagan) in her wheelchair, silent and seemingly senile. But she suddenly comes to life, and Quinn’s girls (Brooklyn Shuck, Matilda Lawler, Willow McCarthy, and Carla Langley, wonderful young actresses all) gather around her to ask her questions – where has she been, why has she never married, what will their futures hold, why is “Aunt Pat such a bitch?”…each of which yields a story more spellbinding and fantastical than the last – before she again falls silent.

The actors portraying Quinn’s aunts and uncle are olds pros, and priceless. There are many other memorable performances. Tom Glynn-Carney portrays Shane Corcoran, Quinn’s nephew, one of three brothers who have come from Derry to help with the harvest. He starts off as fun-loving lad who changes up the music from Irish fiddling to the hard rock “Teenage Kicks” by the Undertones and dances like a maniac. He reveals himself as astrident Irish patriot who’s been flirting with the IRA, then becomes an anxious kid who picks a fight with first his cousin Michael Carney (the wonderfully Fra Fee) and then with his brother Diarmaid (the equally wonderful Conor MacNeil), before he winds up adrunken and dangerous lout. Justin Edwards is Tom Kettle, a feeble-minded but strong, well-meaning and capable handyman who recalls the character Lenny in Of Mice and Men. Because he is an Englishman in Northern Ireland, though he’s lived there since childhood, the militant members of the family, including Aunt Pat and Shane, express outright hatred for him. This hatred prompts a series of events that feed into the multiply shocking climax of “The Ferryman.”  Some theatergoers might wonder at how plausible the ending is. But they’re likely to reflect on this only after they’ve had a chance to catch their breath back home.  And with that reflection may come as well the realization that the underlying themes (such as the wages of hatred) add heft to what seemed merely to be the most thrilling play of the Broadway season.

  The Ferryman

Bernard B. Jacobs Theater Written by Jez Butterworth; Original music by Nick Powell; Directed by Sam Mendes. Scenic and costume design by Rob Howell; lighting Design by Peter Mumford; sound design by Nick Powell; Hair and wig design by Campbell Young Associates Cast: Paddy Considine, Laura Donnelly, Genevieve O’Reilly, Dean Ashton, Glynis Bell, Gina Costigan, Charles Dale, Justin Edwards, Fra Fee, Fionnula Flanagan, Tom Glynn-Carney, Stuart Graham, Mark Lambert, Carla Langley, Conor MacNeill, Colin McPhillamy, Rob Malone, Dearbhla Molloy, Glenn Speers, Niall Wright, Audrey Bennett, Peter Bradbury, Trevor Harrison Braun, Will Coombs, Carly Gold, Holly Gould, Matilda Lawler, Michael McArthur, Bella May Mordus, Griffin Osbourne and Brooklyn Shuck Running time: 3 hours and 15 minutes, including two intermission (one 15 minutes, one three minutes.)

Tickets: $59.00 – $175.00

Recommended for 10 years old and over.

  Click on any photograph by Joan Marcus to see it enlarged

Paddy Considine as Quinn Carney

Laura Donnelly as Caitlin Carney

Justin Edwards (Tom Kettle) [holding Pierce The Bunny], Carla Langley (Shena Carney – hidden), Willow McCarthy (Mercy Carney), Brooklyn Shuck (Nunu (Nuala) Carney), Matilda Lawler (Honor Carney), and Rob Malone (Oisin Carney)

Glenn Speers (Lawrence Malone), Charles Dale (Father Horrigan), Dean Ashton (Frank Magennis), and Stuart Graham (Muldoon)

(L-R): Niall Wright (James Joseph (JJ) Carney), Matilda Lawler (Honor Carney), Justin Edwards (Tom Kettle), Mark Lambert (Uncle Patrick Carney), Fra Fee (Michael Carney), and Willow McCarthy (Mercy Carney)

Fionnula Flanagan (Aunt Maggie Far Away) and Mark Lambert (Uncle Patrick Carney)

Brooklyn Shuck (Nunu (Nuala) Carney), Matilda Lawler (Honor Carney), Willow McCarthy (Mercy Carney), and Carla Langley (Shena Carney)

Fionnula Flanagan (Aunt Maggie Far Away), Matilda Lawler (Honor Carney – sitting on the floor), and Brooklyn Shuck (Nunu (Nuala) Carney)

Stuart Graham (Muldoon) and Paddy Considine (Quinn Carney)

Genevieve O’Reilly (Mary Carney) and Sean Frank Coffey (Bobby Carney) Directed By Sam Mendes

Willow McCarthy (Mercy Carney), Brooklyn Shuck (Nunu (Nuala) Carney), and Dearbhla Molloy (Aunt Patricia Carney)

Willow McCarthy (Mercy Carney), Brooklyn Shuck (Nunu (Nuala) Carney), Genevieve O’Reilly (Mary Carney), and Matilda Lawler (Honor Carney)

Laura Donnelly (Caitlin Carney), Genevieve O’Reilly (Mary Carney), Sean Frank Coffey (Bobby Carney), and Paddy Considine (Quinn Carney)

Fra Fee (Michael Carney), Tom Glynn-Carney (Shane Corcoran), and Conor MacNeill (Diarmaid Corcoran)

The Ferryman By Jez Butterworth Directed By Sam Mendes

The Ferryman By Jez Butterworth Directed By Sam Mendes

The Ferryman By Jez Butterworth Directed By Sam Mendes

The Ferryman By Jez Butterworth Directed By Sam Mendes

Scenic and costume design by Rob Howell; lighting Design by Peter Mumford; sound design by Nick Powell; Hair and wig design by Campbell Young Associates

The Ferryman Review: A Breathtaking Feast of Stories and Character By the time "The Ferryman" has ended, we have been treated to a breathtaking mix of revenge action thriller, romance, melodrama, family saga, and a feast of storytelling – ghost stories, fairy stories, stories of Irish history and politics, stories of longing and of loss.

[s0r3wach1gauy0]

Oh Yeah...

I was meaning to do a remember this post on Meet The Feebles, but there was good content and yeah that’s why. I guess I can put my personal thoughts about this in here so here I go... I honestly first time watching this was shocked. I expect with each time of watching this movie, I will keep getting shocked. But I can’t completely hate it, I honestly LOVE puppets, and the puppetry was well done. I have since I was a child. As for plot, I felt that it was a compelling and biting commentary on what is going on in the decade it was made in. Some of the songs I actually really enjoy. Yes it is shocking and gross, but look past it, and you might see events in there that parallel some more modern events. Below this line is me going into spoiler territory.

Many characters are a commentary on modern things that not everyone thinks about. A great example is Madame Bovine, the cow that Robert “frees”. She and the fact that Trevor and Bletch comment on how her porno sales are getting low nowadays are some interesting commentary on in porn (and hentai) there are often fads that come and go that porn producers can have trouble keeping up with. Or the end of the movie when Heidi shoots up the theatre is haunting with the 2012 Aurora Shooting taking place in a movie theater. Not to mention the topic of sexual assault happening in the entertainment industry with the scene with Trevor and Lucille... Moving on, drugs are a big part of this movie, and are a big part of modern society’s pop culture, political debate, and overall life. A tiny tidbit about Heidi who I believe has bulimia is also something very fun for me to talk about.