#you find this guy waiting outside the bar an hour after you lost a poker game to him. wdyd

[hiding-under-the-willow]

I saw @vampyriix draw RT as a cowboy and immediately also needed to draw my version of him as a cowboy (curse of being texan). Got incredibly carried away about it. As I am known to do

[vanne-whump]

Lost in London. Part One : Pit Tickets

BTHB: Locked in a Trunk @badthingshappenbingo

Tags: @no-whump-on-main

OCs: Halden Gallows-Gerwig, Isaac Alcartez, Kay Edwards

Content: Abduction, Threat of a Mass Shooting, Gun Violence, Bullet Wound, Claustrophobia, Prayers, MINOR WHUMP (Kay is 17).

The scent of sweat and spilled alcohol submerged the room, warm bodies pressed up against one another as music blared through the speakers. Stale air had settled into the venue hours ago.

Kay’s attention was on the stage — energetic performers taking his focus away from the jostling of people around him. An arm went around his waist and he leaned into it in relief. Had the noise not been so overpowering, he would have told Halden that he had been starting to get worried.

Music faded in and out as the songs changed, often flowing into one another. Right up until the encore.

Halden decided he wanted a last drink, yelling something about the bar into Kay’s ear before he slipped away into the writhing crowd. He left a silhouette of a kiss on Kay’s cheek but Halden was gone. Out of sight but certainly not out of mind.

All through the encore, Kay glanced around, seeing only strangers. Claustrophobia began to dawn on him, chest tightening as the music silenced. He swayed slightly, suddenly unsteady. The floor felt like it might fall out from under his feet as the lights brightened. Everyone around him was illuminated, and Halden wasn’t there.

Panic began to set in and Kay started to push his way through the crowd, weaving between indecisive guests. Nothing.

He was sure Halden had said he was going to the bar! Could he have misheard? It was so loud and overpowering and... A firm grip on Kay’s wrist.

Kay spun around and jerked his arm away. The hard expression that met him was anything but inviting. It wasn’t Halden staring him down. Kay opened his mouth to protest — apologise for getting in this guy’s way. But he didn’t get the chance.

“Need to talk,” the man leaned forward, tobacco-scented breath brushing against the side of Kay’s face.

All Kay could do was step back, between breaks in the crowd. The stranger matched his every step.

“Why?” He had to meet the claim with scepticism, having backed himself against the stage barrier.

“Because, if you don’t hear me out, you’re not the only one I’ll shoot,” was the response Kay was graced with. “Semis average out at about thirty-five rounds a minute. This place is packed. Wanna risk it?”

The smile accompanying the words made his stomach churn. The absolute disconnect from the actions he was insinuating. Kay couldn’t risk it.

“It’s got to do with Halden?” He asked, forcing out the question. The momentary wait was agonising.

“You’ll find out,” he was told sharply, “Now move. Fire exit, fifteen feet to our left.”

His hand on Kay’s lower back made him freeze until his common sense could take over. Now, the crowd was starting to disperse but Halden seemed to have vanished. Probably waiting for Kay outside.

“Do I get your name?” Kay asked dryly, through unevenly measured breaths. “Rudeness won’t get you past first base.”

“Move.”

And Kay did as instructed, slipping through the fire exit into a desolate alley lined with dumpsters and broken glass. The moment the door closed behind them, a new type of chill overtook Kay. Sharp evening city air.

“My fiancé is waiting for me,” Kay did all he could to make it sound like a viable threat. It was anything but.

“This isn’t about your fiancé,” Kay’s companion snapped back. “We clear on that for a start?”

“I guess,” Kay fumbled. He’d played his only card too soon. “Can you please tell me what this is about?”

“I’ll tell you what you need to know, and that is that my name is Isaac and you’ll do everything I say or I’ll kill you. Am I clear?”

Kay’s eyes flickered to where he could now see a gun holster on Isaac’s hip and then back up to his expression. Ice cold and deadpan. Instead of his instinct to snap something sarcastic back, Kay only managed a nod.

Isaac hummed in what seemed like approval as Kay took several steps backwards, glass scraping under his shoes as he put some distance between himself and Isaac. He froze in place as soon as Isaac met his eyes.

“Five minutes. A dark green car will reverse from the road. You will be silent. No fuss. As long as you follow my instructions to the letter, you’ll make it to the location alive.”

“I understand,” Kay couldn’t manage anything above a whisper.

Waiting for the car was agony. The best option must be to cause a commotion. Yell — make a break for it. But what had Isaac said? Thirty-five rounds a minute. It was too much risk. Far too much. The street nearby was still packed with other guests still milling around.

If Kay ran, or made any fuss at all, it wasn’t only himself that he was putting at risk. It would be everyone else here too. Kay wasn’t that selfish.

He kept his gaze on the opening of the alley, waiting for the vehicle Isaac had promised. Meanwhile, Isaac was scrolling on his phone, completely ignoring Kay. He must know that Kay was already utterly under his control.

Red taillights jerked Kay’s attention back to the reality. Wordlessly, Isaac used the muzzle of his gun to point towards the car. When Kay didn’t move, Isaac lost patience in the blink of an eye.

Kay didn’t even hear the shot before he felt it. A red-hot poker in his thigh. Blood soaked into his jeans as he stumbled forward — a strangled cry stuck in his throat as he stared down the barrel of the gun. One hand, slick with blood, the other clean, raised in a surrender to Isaac.

“Move,” Isaac hissed. “Do you think I want you dead before we get there?”

“No — no — I’m — I’m going,” Kay hadn’t even realised he was on the floor, gravel sticking to his hands — his clothes. Everywhere as his blood dripped to the ground.

The world spun as he stood, bearing no weight on his right leg.

“Where?” he choked out, stumbling forward, palm flat on the trunk of the car.

“Open it.”

Kay fumbled to open the trunk, stomach dropping as he spotted the clear plastic lining.

He was going to die here.

“Okay,” Kay exhaled, “Don’t — don’t hurt anyone else. Please?” His voice quivered, laced with pain.

Isaac didn’t respond, only slamming the trunk closed after Kay’s head hit the plastic.

Condensation rose on the sheeting as Kay gasped out quiet prayers. Words he hadn’t uttered in years, words that brought him no comfort. He spoke into the dark, whispering to an unseen entity.

Even surrounded by darkness, Kay did everything he could to hold back tears — to cry silently as he tried to ignore the pain. Ignore the way his hands stuck to the plastic while he did everything he could to stop the bleeding. But he couldn’t press hard enough to make a difference.

He weakly pushed against the roof of the trunk. As expected, it didn’t move. If anything, it felt as though it came closer. Pressing in on the air Kay was breathing. Smothering him. Pushing deeply into his chest.

The panic became overwhelming. Kay slammed a loosely balled fist upwards. And again. And again.

He let out a sharp cry as he realised how little he was doing. It was serving no purpose. Several consecutive sobs as he pulled at the neckline of his shirt, gasping for breaths that weren’t there.

The prayers had long since fallen silent when light finally shone into the trunk. Kay was curled in on himself, one hand half-heartedly over his wound, the other covering his head. Hiding sobs. Hiding the gut-wrenching terror.

The expectation of a second shot.

One that wouldn’t leave him any more breaths.

But it didn’t come.

[katedrakeohd]

Cordonia 1885

Word count: 2470

Catch up on previous chapters

Author's Note/Warnings: Rated Mature.

Mentions death, blood, violence, and nudity.

............

Drake felt cold and lifeless in Bastien's arms as he swiftly carried him down the stairs. In the parlour below a wooden bathtub lined in a linen sheet was waiting, the water steaming. In the back of Bastien's mind he was hoping they weren't too late to revive him.

Meanwhile for Drake his own confused mind was telling him he was floating. Am I dead? Am I dreaming?

In his stupor he couldn't open his eyes, but muffled sounds filtered through to his ears. His mind tried to conjure an image, a reasonable thought of what was happening, but then it drifted away like a fog.

Then suddenly the floating feeling changed and he was falling through space, and he was powerless to break his fall. His mind reeled, his stomach roiled, and his muscles clenched painfully all at once, making him flinch.

His body was suddenly enveloped in an intense heat that pricked his skin and brought feeling rushing back into his limbs, causing Drake to let out a low groan.

Bastien stepped back after lowering Drake into the bath.

In his lethargic state, Drake slumps forward, his heavy head dropping his chin to his chest and his face splashing into the water.

Mary gasps, “Bastien, fix him before he drowns!”

Bastien cursed as he leaped forward, reaching under Drake's armpits to sit him back upright.

Tipping his head back, Bastien mutters, “Time to wake up, Son.” And then gives him a hard slap on the cheek to revive him.

The impact hits Drake like a kick to the face and he gasps, coughing the water out of his throat, his eyes opening wide with surprise. Startled to find himself naked in a bathtub, he draws his knees up and grabs the walls in an attempt to get out, causing water to slosh over the sides.

Bastien shakes his head, and places a hand on his shoulder to force him to sit down again. “Now, now Drake. We can't have you running around naked with a Lady present.”

Mary giggles as she holds Drake's bundle of clothes to her chest. “Oh, I don't mind at all.”

Drake raises his hand to his stinging cheek, and then glares at Bastien with indignation, “You..you struck me!”

Mary sits down on the nearby sofa, “Well it was either knock you about or let you drown in your own bath, so you're welcome.”

Bringing both hands up to his face, he realizes he's had a close shave too. He'd lost his own razor long ago and had resolved to just let his beard grow. The newfound smoothness of his skin spoke of a practiced and steady hand, and he assumed it had been Bastien's work.

He looks back and forth between Bastien and Mary and points an accusatory finger at her as a recent memory comes rushing back, “And you..you..she bit me!”

Drake's sudden anger makes his heart start to falter, and he brings his hand to his chest. At the same time he feels a dizzying sensation in his head, “Wha..what's happening to me?” he slurs his words as his eyes close and his body goes limp.

Bastien levels a piercing, disapproving glare at Mary and then raises his thumb to his mouth, he mumbles around it as he bites down. “You're dying, that's what's happening.”

Rushing forward to wrap his arm around Drake's chest, Bastien hauled him upright to prevent him from sinking back down into the bath water. Tipping his head back against his shoulder, Drake's jaw goes slack and Bastien lays his bleeding thumb across his lips.

“Just a taste is all we'll need to bring him back.” Bastien insists.

The dark blood pools around Drake's tongue, and trickles out of the corner of his mouth. Bastien frowns at Drake's inability to swallow it, giving him a gentle shake by the shoulders, and holding his mouth shut. “Come on, now. There's plenty in your mouth, swallow damn you.”

Drake sucks a sharp breath in through his nose, and then his adam's apple bobs as he swallows. He was expecting the blood to be warm, but it was cold and thick like syrup. It burned going down his throat like some awful elixir from the apothecary shop, and it stung his nostrils as he coughed. Unlike the whiskey that he’d swallowed last that brought a welcoming warmth to his stomach, the blood caused an uncomfortable chill and queasiness that sent a shock to his lower gut. He didn't want to swallow any more of it, repulsed at how the rotten taste and feel of it in his mouth had assaulted his senses. If this was what drinking blood was like he wondered how vampires could thirst for it. But as soon as the queasiness passed, he strangely felt better, and his strength began to return.

Scooping up a handful of bathwater, Drake washes the blood off his face.

“I think it's time for some answers,” he says, angrily pointing a finger at Bastien. “What the hell do you two want with me?”

Bastien hands Drake a bar of soap and cloth to clean himself. “Get washed and I'll explain the best I can.”

Mary looks on eagerly as Drake lathers up the cloth, “Do you need any help, I could..wash your back for you?”

Bastien shakes his head as Drake stares at Mary in disbelief, “No, thanks. I think I can manage on my own.”

Mary's face falls in disappointment as Bastien makes a dismissive gesture to shoo her away. “Why don't you finish preparing your father's bedroom for Drake, and dispose of his dirty clothes. Make sure the curtains are drawn so the morning light doesn't leak in. After the events of tonight he's going to need several hours of uninterrupted sleep.”

Mary sets Drake's new clothes aside with an angry huff and then leaves. “Once a chamber maid, always a chamber maid,” she mutters as she stomps barefoot up the stairs.

Drake nods his gratitude to Bastien, hoping finally they could have the man to man talk he’s been waiting for. “Ok, then. Start talking.”

Getting up from his seat, Bastien starts to pace the room, turning his back on Drake to give him some privacy as he bathed. He clears his throat and then begins his story.

“As you know, I'm employed by the Beaumont family at the Ramsford Estate.”

“Uh huh,” Drake replies, using the cloth to wash his face and neck again. The smell of his blood was finally being overpowered by the soap, and he lathered the cloth repeatedly to make sure he neutralized all traces of it on his body.

“But I'm more than just their head of security. I belong to a secret society of night watchmen and stewards that have been in service to the noble houses of Cordonia for centuries.”

Drake crosses his leg over his knee to scrub at his foot. “And have you watchmen always been, you know..”

“Vampires?” Bastien finishes, as he goes over to the window to take a peek outside through the curtains. The inky darkness of night was giving way to the weak grey light of early morning. “No, only for the last 285 years.”

Drake frowns as he continues his bath, “That's an oddly specific amount of years, you sound as if you've been around long enough to count each one.”

Bastien sighs as he closes the curtains again, “That's because I have.”

Drake pauses to look at Bastien, still wanting to disbelieve the idea of vampires despite what he's already seen and experienced. “So what's Mary's part in all of this? She hardly seems like night watchman or guard material.”

Bastien sighs, looking up to see Mary sitting at the top of the stairs. “She was an unexpected, but surprisingly useful addition to my plans.”

“Oh, how?” Drake answers, cupping water in his hands and dumping it over his head to rinse the soap from his hair.

“I needed bait to lure you in.”

Drake blinks the water out of his eyes and wipes his face with his hands. “Why me? What am I to you, a meal or a recruit? And what makes you think I want to be either?”

“Did you honestly have any job prospects or any money in your pockets?”

Drake looks down at his boney bent knees jutting above the grayish water of the bathtub, ashamed and embarrassed to be so hopelessly destitute with nothing to claim as his own. “Well, no.” he says, quietly.

“Where were you going to sleep tonight, or what was to be the source of your next meal?”

Drake shrugs, remembering the dark alley next to the tavern where he often slept among the other drunks passed out in their own filth. He recalled the cool roughness of the brick wall that he'd lean against, and the ever present smell of piss and puke.

He looks over gratefully to the fresh clothing they'd picked out for him, down to his clean hands and body and then around to the comfortable home that was being offered for the night. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had afforded him such a kindness. But his gratitude was soon tempered by the fear that they were intending for him to give his life in exchange for this brief kindness.

“Ok, fine. I admit to having nowhere else better to go, tonight or tomorrow for that matter. Which explains why I might be tempted to accept whatever life you're offering. But it still doesn't explain why you chose me over any other poor lonely guy in the tavern tonight.”

Bastien snaps his fingers as Drake answered his own question. “That's just it Drake. You were alone and not engaged in talking to anyone. I'm assuming you have few if any friends and that you would hardly be missed if the tavern patrons never saw you again.”

Drake frowns at the implication that he couldn't make friends with people if he really wanted to. He liked being alone, and only engaged in conversation with people if they had something to offer him. Getting a drink from a bartender, the company of a willing woman, or the chance to finagle a few coins from some guys in a poker game was about as friendly as he wanted to be. All were limited interactions that required no commitment to being anyone's friend. He saw Bastien's point. He was a nobody and could easily become someone else entirely if he wanted to. Totally anonymous.

Drake looks around outside of the area of the tub, searching for something to blot himself dry so he could get dressed. As he stands up, Mary gasps at seeing him naked again. Bastien hands him a sheet to wrap around himself as he steps out of the tub. After quickly drying himself under the watchful eye of Bastien and the under the uncomfortable gaze of Mary, Drake pulls on the new clothes.

“Do I necessarily have to die to become part of this night watchmen society you belong to? Couldn't I be more useful on the day shift?”

Bastien waves off his concerns, “Any man off the street could be trained and become a day guard. But the worst threats to noble safety come at night. We move silently to neutralize threats before they breach the outer walls.”

“And if the moment arises to make a criminal your next meal, then it benefits the nobles and the watchmen alike.” Drake offers.

Bastien nods, “But we mustn't be sloppy or overly obvious that we’re feeding on any intruders. Any dead bodies are to be properly disposed of with minimal fang marks.”

Drake rubs his bottom lip feeling uneasy, “So does fresh blood really taste like what you gave me?”

“Oh, not at all,” Mary interrupts as she comes down the stairs.

“Living blood is much tastier. What you had was second hand, and quite dead.”

Drake looks from Bastien to Mary, scared all over again. “So..what happens now?”

Bastien places a hand on Drake's shoulder, the dead weight and strength in his grip was far from reassuring. “Your body needs to officially die before we can give you the gift of a new life.”

Drake's eyes go wide and he tries to swallow the sudden dry lump in his throat. “Bu..but I feel fine. Do we have to do this now?”

Bastien chuckles, leading Drake toward the stairs. “You're not dead yet, but after losing consciousness three times this evening already, death can't be far away. Based on the pallor of your skin, the hollowness of your cheeks and belly, you strike me as someone who drinks his meals more often than chewing them. If we hadn't found you tonight I wouldn't have expected you to live more than a few more months at best. Your body was already failing you and you weren't even aware of it.”

As they reach the bedroom at the far end of the hall, Drake panics feeling like a sacrificial lamb and tries to get away. Bastien wraps his arm around his shoulders and redirects him into the room. “If you bolt now, you won't get far. Would you rather die in the street? You’d probably stumble and injure yourself painfully as you wait to die.”

Drake stands nervously and waits for his alternative, “And if I don't run? What happens?”

“Just make yourself comfortable in bed and get some rest. You have 12 hours left at the most to make peace with this world and enjoy whatever daylight you can after you wake up. While sleeping will rejuvenate you somewhat, don't be fooled into thinking you can return to the life you once had. By sunset you'll be dead.”

Drake sits down on the end of the bed, “And if I were to go to the police and try to explain everything that happened to me?”

“I'd avoid the police, considering that the hotel housekeeper will be discovering you're missing any moment now. You're a wanted man, even if the blood you woke up in was actually your own.”

Drake sighs, running his hands through his damp hair, “Oh right, you have a point there.”

Mary sits down next to Drake on the bed, laying her hand on his knee. “We'll leave you some coins on the dresser. Go watch a show, get a last drink of whiskey, a last meal, but don't stray too far from the house.”

“Why not?”

“You need to be back here in time for sunset, so Bastien and I can help you finish your transformation. A little bit of Bastien's blood was enough to bring you back to this life, but it will take a lot more to get you to wake up into the next one.”

:::

Tagging:

@texaskitten30 @janezillow @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @pedudley @ravenpuff02 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @indiacater @kingliam2019 @walkerswhiskeygirl @bobasheebaby @emceesynonymroll @kimmiedoo5 @sirbeepsalot @xxrainbow-princessxx @losingbraincellseveryday @princessleac1 @nikkis1983

[fangirlshrewt97]

Doctor Who (2005) Fic - The Goldilocks Vacation Conundrum

Title: The Goldilocks Vacation Conundrum

Author(s): Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Pairing: None

Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yaz Khan, Ryan, Graham

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Banned Together Bingo Prompt: Alien Weatherman

Additional Tags: Crack-ish, Prompt: Alien Weatherman, Banned Together Bingo 2020, Humor, The Doctor does not know how to pick human appropriate vacation spots, Poor Graham keeps falling because of the Doctor’s poor TARDIS parking skills, Post Season 10

Summary: Essentially, a semi-crack-ish fic where the Doctor tries to suggest vacation spots to her companions, and misses the mark. Until she gets it right.

After all, third time is the charm.

Excerpt:

The Doctor swiped through a few more potential vacation spots, this time, Ryan joining them. There were several that caught the eyes of the crew, but each time that Graham asked for the dangers, there was always one.

Tentacle monsters, giant crabs, Multiple-headed monsters, noxious gas, acid-spitting monsters, poisonous fruits, monsters with giant horns, unfriendly natives, evil tyrannical rulers that were wary of tourists. What was with all the monsters, honestly?

By the end, Ryan and Yaz had joined back on the steps with the Doctor standing in front of them.

 Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314952

                                                          /// 

The TARDIS fam were sitting on the steps next to the central console waiting for the Doctor to return. She had said she would only be a moment and for them to stay.

“I just need to grab this one thing from a friend, I’ll be back before you know it. No need for you to follow me!” she had said, bouncing around the console as the TARDIS landed on another planet, nearly sending Graham to the floor from the abrupt stop.

“But doc-” Graham had started to protest only for her to already be halfway out the door, coat in one hand, and an extremely long rainbow scarf in the other.

“Five minutes at most. Just wait here!” was all the humans heard before the door swung shut.

Graham sighed. “Well that is not going to happen.”

“Who wants to bet she will get stuck on an adventure?” Ryan had asked, mischievous glint in his eyes.

Yaz barked a laugh. “What kind of a naive idiot do you take me for Ryan? The bet should be the kind of adventure she goes on. My guess is tentacle monster.”

“You’re on, I think it is alien species that wants to conquer the planet.”

“Ohhhh, good one, damn I want to change my bet.”

“No way too late!”

“Graham, what about you?”

“I don’t know about the doctor, but personally, I am going for an adventure to the kitchen. I want tea.” Graham had said, waiving off the groans from the other two. He did press the pedal to get a creamy custard biscuit as he walked by though.

That had been almost four hours ago. In the meantime, Graham had had his tea and biscuits, finished his book, taken a small nap, and wound up back in the console room, playing poker with Yaz and Ryan. The younger two members of the ship had tried to venture out of the ship, only to find they were parked at the top of a very steep cliff with no houses or identifiable signs of civilization in sight. And rather than risking getting lost, had ventured back into the ship.

Graham was chuckling as he won the hand for the fifth time in the row, collecting the candy they were using as betting markers when the Doctor burst into the room, tracking mud throughout the entrance as loud bird screeching followed her. She quickly barricaded the door with the bar she kept next to the door and ventured inside.

“Well fam, sorry for the delay, but I see you kept yourselves entertained.”

“Say doc, have you ever actually run an errand where things didn’t go tits up?” Graham asked as he opened one of the mints from his winnings. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yaz passing some money to Ryan.

“I resent the implications Graham, I will have you know I have had plenty of successful errands where nothing went wrong.”

At the silence from the three humans, she looked up from she was fiddling with the console controls again. “I have!”

Graham scoffed as Yaz made an empathetic noise and Ryan rolled his eyes fondly.

“Sure you have Doctor.” Ryan said as he stood up.

The Doctor’s comeback was interrupted by a piercing cry and the distinct sound of claws (or talons) against wood.

“Whoopsie, looks like we have overstayed our welcome!” The Doctor said before pulling down the lever. The trio of humans just managed to brace themselves before the ship took off, shaking like a teacup during an earthquake.

After a couple more minutes, the wheezing sound faded as the ship managed to land somewhere.

“Hey Doctor, where are we?” Yaz as as she peered into one of the monitors on the console. It was still displaying that odd (but beautiful) circular writing the Doctor had called Gallifreyan, but she could also make out a landscape. It was a flat field, with what looked like medium height grasses (green), under a clear sky (purple, which weird but cool), and a scattering of trees that almost resembled pine trees but had normal leaves.

“Ah, thanks for asking Yaz! Welcome to Brosha, in the Aresa galaxy. I figured I owed you guys a proper vacation, and this place has the best food this side of the Andromeda galaxy made from corn. Well, it is actually eir but tastes very similar to Earth’s corn. Looks similar too!”

The three humans were not looking at her as impressed as she was hoping. Her smiled dimmed a bit. “No?”

Ryan answered. “Doctor, that is really nice of you, but none of us are really big fans of corn. Also you are hiding something from us.”

“No I am not.”

Yaz chuckled. “Yes you are. You have a tell.”

“I do not!”

“You do too!”

“I do not!”

“You do too!”

“I-”

Graham cut off the childish squabbling. Honestly one was an officer of the law, and the other was a two thousand year old alien. It was undignified. “Alright enough. Doc, this sounds nice, but what’s the catch?”

“There are, rarely, every once in a while, stampedes of these huge moose like things. But honestly the chances of that happening while we are there are-”

“Sky high. Doc, we tend to always be around for the once in a blue moon situations. How about elsewhere?” Yaz said gently.

The Doctor pouted, but turned and fiddled with her monitor before brightening.

“Oh, I got one. What about Brakem in the Uccas galaxy? Hot springs filled with healing crystals, soaps and scents from around the universe. Never really rains, two suns, three moons. Gorgeous orange skies.”

“And?” Ryan asked, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Doc, this would be easier if you just mentioned the catch too.” Graham added.

“Average temperatures outside of the resorts are about 40℃.”

No way in hell. Mainly cause it sounded to be about the same temperature. “Next option Doc.”

The Doctor whined but looked at her monitor again. Graham went to sit on the stairs, he had a feeling they’d be there for a while.

“Ok, fine. How about, um, no not that one, ooh that would be, no nevermind, oh! No.” The Doctor muttered as she swiped at her monitor. Yaz went to stand beside her, watching her flick past some amazing landscapes. One in particular caught her eye, and she must have a sound because the Doctor looked at her. “Yaz?”

“What’s that?”

“This one? This is Chebara.” On the screen was a massive lake, extending seemingly to the horizon. The sky was so purple, but so clear she could almost make out stars and other planets in the photo. To one side of the lake she could see a massive hill rising from the ground, clouds covering it from about midway. In the middle of the lake, giant trees that seemed to be floating?

“Are those trees floating?”

“Oh yes, they are Ubal trees, their fruits produce dyes that don’t fade even after a thousand years. Very valuable.” The Doctor explained, glee filling her eyes again.

“Is it safe?” Graham asked. He loved the Doctor, but safety somehow never made it into the woman’s priority list.

“Graham, where is the fun in that?” The Doctor asked, only to be met with a raised eyebrow that would not be swayed. She sighed. “There is a small chance we may encounter the giant alligator-hippos that inhabit the lake.”

“No.”

“But Yaz wants to go!” the Doctor protested.

“Actually Doctor, I think just the photos might be enough. We have had so many adventures, and I would really like a vacation before we head back to the fray.” Yaz said, apologetic.

The Doctor’s shoulders slumped. “Back to the drawing board then.”

The Doctor swiped through a few more potential vacation spots, this time, Ryan joining them. There were several that caught the eyes of the crew, but each time that Graham asked for the dangers, there was always one.

Tentacle monsters, giant crabs, Multiple-headed monsters, noxious gas, acid-spitting monsters, poisonous fruits, monsters with giant horns, unfriendly natives, evil tyrannical rulers that were wary of tourists. What was with all the monsters, honestly?

By the end, Ryan and Yaz had joined back on the steps with the Doctor standing in front of them.

“Guys come on, I promise, the vacation will be fine, I’m sure the bad things won’t happen, they are all statistically very unlikely.”

Graham stood up and walked to the Doctor, laying a sympathetic hand on her forearm. “Doctor, I am sure you have noticed, but let me point it out again. We are kind of one-in-a-million central here. All I want is someplace to put my feet up, a nice cuppa, maybe a chance to tan.” Graham said. Beside him, Yaz and Ryan nodded in agreement.

The Doctor stood in front of the three humans, arms crossed, and cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. Yaz internally squealed at how adorable this couple thousand year old alien could be.

The Doctor tapped out a distracted pattern on her forearm before brightening. “I know the perfect place!” she said.

And then, without waiting for the companion’s response she went back to the console and pressed a few buttons before pulling the lever.

The TARDIS’s wheezing sound was heard before the ship rattled and transported. Graham, who had been standing on the stairs still fell hard on his butt. Ryan and Yaz managed to stumble forward and brace themselves on the console.

“Ow Doc, a couple more rough landings, and you are going to owe me a new hip!” Graham complained as he rubbed the small of his back. Ryan came to his side, helping his sit up against one of the columns around the console.

“Sorry about that Graham! I just thought of the perfect place for a lovely holiday, and wanted to get us there ASAP!”

Ryan and Yaz exchanged glances before looking at her hesitantly. “So…”

“Where are we?”

If possible, the Doctor’s grin got even wider, her eyes alight with delight. “My lovely fam, welcome to Earth, third planet in the solar system, in the outskirts of the Milky Way galaxy. We are in present day Sheffield, the temperature is a pleasant 23℃, there is a humidity of 65%, and chance of rain is 7%!” The Doctor said as she clapped her hands once in delight. Ryan shook his head at the antics of the Time Lord and began to chuckle.Yaz started to giggle before the Doctor waggled her eyebrows at her, at which point she burst out laughing, using the console edge to keep from falling over. Even Graham had a grin on his face as he continued to rub his back. He used the column to brace himself and got up.

“How long will we be staying then doc?”

The Doctor swayed back and forth on her toes and heels. “Up to you guys. How long do you want to stay?”

“Wait, you are staying too right?” Yaz said, squinting at the Time Lord.

The Doctor brought up her hands in surrender. “I’ve got a whole universe Yaz!”

“And I’ve got a spare room with your name on it. Come on, just stay. I know we don’t have crystal pools or floating trees, but Charlie’s pub down the block serves some of the best falafels in the country.”

The Doctor bit her lip, but looking at the hopeful faces of her companions, she gave a single nod.

“Alright, why not.”

She turned and pressed a couple buttons, dimming the lights of the main area of the TARDIS. “There, she is in hibernation. Let’s go enjoy Sheffield.”

With a cheer from the humans, the Doctor let herself be led outside by her fam. Yaz dragging her by the wrist as Ryan lightly pushed her from the back, with Graham closing the ship doors behind himself.

Sometimes, the best vacation from a life traveling was a little bit of home.

[peaceisadirtyword]

Don’t play with fire III (Modern! Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! My inspiration (not my ability to write) is back, and I wrote this in a few hours. I’ll probably fail my next exam, so I hope this is worth it. I was very inspired by Alex in Reliks’ new music video, because he gave me such Modern! dark Ivar... 

It’s probably shit, I'm sorry. But I hope you enjoy it♥️ You can find parts 1 and 2 in my masterlist😘

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, Ivar is a warning, flirting, my bad writing.

Words: 3515

After almost a year taking gifs from other authors bc I’m useless I can say today that this gif is mine (I made it yay). It’s probably horrible. Sorry it’s the first gif I’ve made in my life💖

Fridays were the worst. 

Luckily, your boss gave you the afternoon shift, and not the night one. As it was a cafeteria, it closed soon, but on the weekends you wouldn't go home until 2 am, which you honestly hated. 

You had had some pretty hectic weeks, with essays, projects and exams combined with the fact that Erik had ended in the hospital for a ethyl coma and had been in there for a few days. You moved to his house for a few days to look after him and hadn't had a proper night of rest for weeks. 

Your back hurt, you didn't feel your feet and your head felt like it was going to explode. You counted the minutes and the seconds until your boss said you were free to leave. You almost cried in relief.

Your plan for the night was relaxing in your couch while watching some romantic comedy on Netflix, order a pizza and eat chocolate until you feel sick. After collecting your backpack and saying goodbye to your coworkers, you went out of the cafeteria, walking down the street. 

You asked Erik to go and pick you up, but he said he was busy. You knew busy meant 'I'm going to drink and smoke until I pass out, so take the bus'.

There was a small store near your home, that sell one of the most delicious chocolate bars you had ever tried, and though you had started your diet the day before, you had had such a long day you couldn't care less about how the new dress you bought was too tight in some parts. 

The owner, a middle-aged woman that was reading while sitting at the other side of the counter, smiled and greeted you happily. You smiled back and looked around the store, looking for your chocolate. 

You were alone in the store, except for the woman and another guy walking around. He wore a dark hoodie under a (less discreet) orange jacket... And somehow you felt like you knew him, though you hadn't seen his face yet. 

While trying to decide if you should take two or three chocolate bars, the guy walked just before you. And you raised your head to look at him. 

You gasped when you saw those brilliant blue eyes and the dark hair under the hood that covered his head. You hadn't noticed it, but he had his crutch on his left arm.

He winked at you and then smirked, and you widened your mouth, still in shock. 

"What are you doing here?" You asked, trying not to raise your voice to avoid startling the woman "Are you following me?" 

Ivar chuckled, shaking his head.

"Do I look like I need to follow you?" 

"What do you mean?" You frowned. 

"I'm just buying some things, Y/N, don't panic" he shrugged. 

He looked... Different. Of course his playful eyes seemed to be playing with you, as he always did. But he didn't look so... Menacing. Or angry. 

"Do you have to buy them next to my house?" You pressed your lips together. 

After him breaking in your apartment, you had only seen him twice, and both times had been in the club, to tell him the few things you had heard about Aethelwulf, who was now very sick in the hospital. He hadn't threatened you with the gun but you were still wary around him, even if you were in public. 

"I was going to your apartment now" he raised his eyebrow "To see if you..."

"I don't have anything" you cleared your throat and smiled to the woman, who had raised her head in your direction "I mean, I haven't heard anything new" you lowered your voice, standing closer to him when the woman looked away again. 

"I know" Ivar rolled his eyes "I just wanted to... Reward you"

"What?"

"Do I have to explain everything to you, Y/N?" He sighed. He was losing his patience and clenching his jaw. You had to admit that you enjoyed when he got angry.

What the fuck, Y/N. 

"You want to... Reward me?" 

"Yes, I want to thank you for telling me, for fucks sake I thought you were smarter, considering the fact you're studying a fucking degree" he scoffed. 

"Well, you're welcome, now I'm going to pay for this and..."

Ivar raised his eyebrow and took the chocolate from your hands, walking to the counter and ignoring your protests. 

The inside of Ivar's car wasn't as luxurious as you imagined. It was a normal car, with a bit more of space to accommodate his legs. 

You didn't know what the fuck you were doing in there. You only entered that store to buy a few sweets and go home, but somehow Ivar managed to change your mind. 

Well it wasn't exactly that he had changed your mind. He hadn't really given you a choice, but a part of you was willing to go with him. 

"What are you wearing?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked at him. He sighed and looked at you. 

"I could ask you the same" 

You furrowed your brows while looking down. You were wearing a grey hoodie, a pair of jeans and your favorite sneakers. Okay, you probably didn't look like a supermodel, but in your defense you hadn't planned to go out that night. 

"Where are you taking me?" 

Ivar breathed deeply, and rubbed his eyes. You could swear the driver chuckled a bit. 

"I'm taking you outside the city, to kill you and then burn your body"

You gasped and a part of you believed it, quickly pressing your back against the door next to you, ready to jump out of the car if it was necessary, but then you saw Ivar biting his lip to hold back a laugh and you scoffed. 

"It's not funny"

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead already" he winked at you "And why would I kill you when you have been the one who told me what I need to know about Aethelwulf?"

"I don't know" you shrugged "A month ago you wanted to kill me"

"A month ago I though you were someone who tried to trick me and worked with my enemies, Y/N... I still don't trust you but... I think you're smart enough to understand what happens to the people who try to trick me" his dark stare was enough to make you shudder. In an instant, his voice lost his teasing note and now was full of threat. 

But you ignored the fast pounding of your heart and looked directly into his eyes.

"And what would I gain by tricking you?" Your voice was much more still than you had thought, and the way he narrowed his eyes made you feel proud of yourself. 

"I don't know, you tell me" he muttered, licking his lips. 

You were momentarily distracted by his wet tongue running over his plump lips, and you pressed your thighs together involuntarily. 

"Nothing" you recomposed yourself and looked away, scared. 

Not scared of him, not at all. He had already said that if he wanted you dead he would have killed you already, and you believed him. Scared because of the way he had made you feel only by wetting his lips with his tongue. 

You tried to recall the last time you felt something like that, but you couldn't. 

The car stopped in the middle of a street you didn't recognize. There was a bar opened with some people next to the door. The kind of people you would not like to encounter in the middle of the night while walking all alone. 

"Where are we?" 

Ivar didn't answer, he only opened the door and got out of the car, leaning into his crutch. 

The driver got out and opened your door, motioning for you to get out. 

"You can leave your things in the car" Ivar started walking to the bar "It's safer".

Hiding a bit your backpack under the front sea, you followed him, feeling everyone's eyes on you. 

The inside of the bar wasn't any better. 

It smelled of beer and sweat. It wasn't full, just a few people drinking and screaming at each other in danish. The loud laughter and the smell made you frown. You weren't a big fan of nightclubs, but you definitely preferred the club to this. 

"Is this where you bring people to kill them with the smell and then bury them in the backyard?" You wrinkled your nose and Ivar chuckled a bit.

"It's a good plan, I might use it someday... Follow me" 

He stopped in front of a wooden door, and opened it immediately. 

Inside, the smell wasn't that bad. It smelled of beer and tobacco, but it was much better than outside. 

There was a big table in the middle of the room, full of people. You immediately recognized Hvitserk's blonde hair collected on a man bun, and Ubbe's clear blue eyes fixed on you. 

Almost all of them were men, except for four women. They seemed to be playing poker, and Hvitserk looked annoyed at something. 

"Ivar" Ubbe greeted his little brother, smiling confused while his eyes fixed on you. Did he remember you?

"Ubbe" Ivar looked at his brother with a small smirk "Everything's taken care of" 

You frowned and looked at him, confused. 

"Y/N!" Hvitserk stood up. It was obvious that he was drunk, but you still startled when he went to you and hugged you. 

"Hi..." You got away from him quickly. Hvitserk laughed and turned around to see everyone.

"She doesn't really like me, I don't know why"

"Well you did threaten her the first day you met" Ubbe rolled his eyes "Is everything okay, Y/N? What are you doing here?" 

You gulped, trying not to panic when you realized they remembered you very well. 

"I'm fine... And I don't really know why I'm here, ask him" you looked at Ivar "He kidnapped me when I was on my way home"

Ivar rolled his eyes as Ubbe looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"I didn't kidnap you" he walked to a couch, on the other side of the room "I just thought it would be nice to invite her to a drink as she has been the one who helped the most lately" 

Ubbe was awkward, tense and still smiled at you. 

"So you're Y/N" a man sitting next to Hvitserk looked at you with curiosity "I've heard about you, but I was waiting for someone more... Dangerous" the corners of his mouth curved in a wicked smile. He had long brown hair and intense blue eyes, and though he intimidated you as much as Ivar did, his stare wasn't as dark or threatening. 

"Don't underestimate her, Harald" Hvitserk drank half of his glass of beer at once "She manages to get more information about Aethelwulf in one hour than most of us together in a week" 

You bit your lip nervously as everyone's eyes focused on you again. Ivar watched you too, and you could swear he was smiling... Proudly?

"My name is Harald Finehair" the man stood up "And this is my brother, Halfdan The Black"

You had heard about them. Erik mentioned their names more than once. Halfdan looked like his brother, though he had a darker look, with his blonde hair and brown eyes. He didn't smile at you, but examined your face with curiosity. 

"And she" Harald's eyes looked to one of the women in the room, the only one with dark hair "Is Astrid, my beautiful wife"

Her piercing blue eyes bore into yours, making you look away. She smiled softly. 

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N, I have to thank you, because you probably saved all of our lives when telling us about Aethelwulf's movements..."

"Oh, I..." You looked at Ivar, your eyes widened and screaming for help "You're welcome?" You bit your lip, and everyone in the room chuckled. 

You were panicking. Truly panicking on the inside. 

Yes, Erik told you to gain Ivar's trust, but he said nothing about meeting the whole... Gang? Mafia? Family? Whatever the fuck these people were. You were in a dangerous place and you knew that you could fuck everything up if you said the wrong thing, so in spite of your desire of running away from that place, you sat down on the couch next to Ivar while the rest of the people went back to the game.

Ivar had already a beer in his hand, and he offered you another one he took from a small table full of alcohol and things you preferred not to even recognize. 

The alcohol helped you to relax. Within an hour, you met Torvi, Ubbe's girlfriend, Margrethe, Ubbe and Hvitserk's ex-girlfriend, Floki, Ivar's "uncle", and Helga, Floki's wife. 

You had to admit that they were much more polite and nice than you would have thought. And although you were still tense around them, after a few beers you even tried to play poker. You had never in your life played poker, so you were more than lost in the game. Ivar had an amazing time watching you, though. 

The one who didn't look too happy having you in there was Floki. 

While Helga had been a sweetheart to you, and smiled a thousand times since you arrived, Floki looked suspicious. 

He watched you closely, not smiling even once, he even frowned when Helga went to say hello to you. 

Ivar noticed it too. Floki was usually the loudest of the group always giggling and happy... To be silent and serious wasn't Floki's style. He noticed how his eyes never left you, even when you were tipsy and trying to understand the rules of the game. 

He made a mental note to ask him about it later... Now he had other problems. 

You hadn't had dinner, and hadn't drank any alcohol (not that much at least) in months, which made you giggle at everything and almost fall on Ivar's lap when you tried to go back to your place next to him on the couch only after your fifth beer. 

"I'm a bit disappointed on you" Ivar raised his eyebrow "I though such a brave and independent girl would resist more than five beers"

"I'm fine" you frowned, though your slow movements and your sleepy eyes said something else "Why did you bring me here?" 

You leaned into him so he could hear you over the loud yelling on the room. 

Ivar smiled softly. It was you or the blue of his eyes was even more intense now? 

"I told you, to thank you for all the information you've given to me" his lips parted, and you couldn't take your eyes off of them. 

"That is not the real reason" you shook your head "You don't trust me, why bring me here?"

"Maybe to see if I can trust you or not" 

His hand was on your thigh, and instantly you regretted drinking a single drop of alcohol. 

His hand put your hair away, leaving your neck completely exposed. 

"I don't trust anyone, Y/N, it's nothing personal" he muttered, his lips now touching your ear. 

You sighed, your breath shaking as you felt his breathing on the soft skin of your neck. A part of you wanted to push him away and go out. But you honestly couldn't, not when his delicious lips touched your neck. 

Ivar hummed, his hand pressing on your thigh as his lips worked on your neck. You moaned softly and closed your eyes, for his ears only, which made him smirk and then bit down on your soft spot. You grabbed his bicep and hissed in pain. 

"And it's a bit difficult to trust you if you don't tell me your sources" he moved to your jaw, smirking.

"And I won't tell you" you managed to answer, eyes still closed. 

Ivar chuckled. 

"Did you fuck Alfred?" 

"I didn't fuck anyone" you opened your eyes and looked at him fiercely.

"Since when?" His hand on your thigh moved, and you squirmed in your seat. 

"I'm not going to tell you that" you raised your eyebrow. 

"Then I'll have to find out by myself"

His lips touched yours, and you moaned almost instantly. They were even softer than you could have ever imagined, and warmer. It was like coming home after a long time away, like putting on your freshly washed pajamas, or even like the sun hitting your face for the first time in days. 

You blushed in embarrassment, and tried to ignore your stupid thoughts as he deepened the kiss. 

His tongue caressed yours, and you moaned again. You didn't know if it was because of the alcohol, or because his addictive taste, but you couldn't stop kissing him. Even when your lungs started screaming for air. 

Ivar was the one who broke the kiss, smirking when you whined in protest. 

No one else in the room had paid any attention to you and your... Moment, but you blushed anyway, especially when Ivar licked those delicious lips of his and his eyes fixed in yours. 

You had never ever felt something like that when kissing anyone. And you had kissed plenty of boys (and some girls too) during high school.  And you had been in love, or that was what you thought. 

Not even with Erik.

Erik...

You felt like throwing up. Your Erik, the Erik you were risking your life for.

Oh my god, I need to get out of here. 

You cleared your throat, recomposing yourself. Ivar was now looking at his phone, completely calm. You admired his composure, as you felt like screaming and crying in that moment. 

"We're not strangers anymore, Y/N" his soft voice made you shiver again "So... Why not tell me now how did you manage to find out all of that?"

Even if you were panicking and crying on the inside, you managed to hold his stare and answer him. 

"If you think that some beer and a kiss will be enough for me to tell you all my secrets, Lothbrok, you're wrong" you stood up from the couch "I need to leave, I have things to do tomorrow"

"You said you didn't trust her" Ubbe was worried, as always. Ivar rolled his eyes "Why bring someone you don't trust here, huh? This is one of the few places no one knows, and if she says something now..."

"She won't" Ivar sighed "I don't trust her, not completely at least" he tried to ignore the way Floki raised his eyebrow "But I really want to know who is giving her information"

"Why is that so important?" Hvitserk was too tired of the conversation "She tells you about Aethelwulf, we attack him, we win"

"But she gains nothing with it" Ivar clenched his jaw, annoyed.

"She told you she did it because of her boyfriend didn't she? The one Aethelwulf killed"

"I don't believe that" Ivar bit his lip. There was something in you, something about you that was... Strange "She might want revenge, but maybe not for herself"

"Look, Ivar, I think you like her, and that's why you're so obsessed"

Ivar glared at Hvitserk, fighting against the blush that threatened to cover his cheeks. Floki scoffed and throw his glass to the floor. 

"You're exactly like your father" Floki seemed very annoyed at him "Both of you are smart, observant and strong, but you have the same weakness; women" Ivar clenched his fist "You see a beautiful woman and all that intelligence goes to Hel... Be very careful, Ivar, you can fuck whoever you want, but be careful with that girl, she doesn't have good intentions"

"Oh, go to Hel, all of you" he growled. Luckily, Harald, Halfdan and Astrid had left before Ubbe confronted him about you "Ubbe, you said she was an innocent girl and panicked when I threatened to kill her, and now you're saying..."

"You can not trust someone and still don't kill them" Ubbe used that big brother tone Ivar hated "I don't think she's a bad person, she's just a young woman with a shitty job and pretty big bills... She might not want to hurt you, but can be working with someone who wants"

"That's why I want to know who are her sources" 

"Well, the kiss and the caress on her thigh didn't work so... Maybe next time you'll have to fuck her, little brother" Hvitserk smirked, patting his shoulder softly. 

You were already in bed, tired but incapable of sleeping, with Smaug curled up next to you, on your pillow. 

You couldn't stop thinking about Ivar and the kiss. And just when you were going to put down your phone and force yourself to sleep, the text arrived. 

If you think that I kissed you like that only so you would tell me your sources, you're wrong. 

And you knew. You were (and had) fucked up.

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @chimera4plums @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @poisonous00 @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @misskalonthelady @paintballkid711 @nataliehasgrace @atlas-of-the-world @justrepostandlove @persephones-deadgirlwalking @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @sw-eat-ing @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallylebecks @hellogabysblog @trashcanx @winchesterwife27

[speaknowslut13]

A Relative Lyrical Analysis- Cruel Summer

Cruel Summer is stuck on replay in my head.  Its catchy, it’s daring, and its brilliant.  I wanted to start doing lyrical analysis on Taylor Swift’s songs because I’m 100% that nerd.  I started thinking though, that sometimes its not important exactly how Taylor Swift’s experience is coming through but how we take the art she’s given us and have interpreted it through our life lenses.  So, without further ado, I give you my first Relative Lyrical Analysis. 

The Lyrics:  “Cruel Summer” by Taylor Swift, 2019 Lover

     (Verse 1:)

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

You know that I caught it

The syntax she chooses to use is so interesting here. She’s flipping the sentence a bit (very Object/Subject/Verb or “Yoda” syntax).  If you want to really understand what she’s saying, read it like a proper sentence.  This is a technique she uses throughout the song.  I love it.

Let’s break this down:  She’s caught the “Fever Dream High”.  What is a Fever Dream High?  Without looking it up, I would say think of a high fever.  If you’ve ever had one, time seems to move by at its own pace.  It’s a weird world that seems dream like.  Sometimes you think hours have passed but its been seconds.  Other times it moves so fast much like dream logic.  It is surreal.  

So, she’s caught it.  The imagery here is a disease.  Which makes sense with her metaphor of a Fever Dream High.  

The part that is pretty fascinating is the quiet of the night.  Not only does this conjure up an image, it captures the feeling that goes along with that.  She’s alone suffering through this fever.   But there is something so delicious about this fantasy that she sits alone at night combing it over.

bad bad boy

Shiny toy, with a price

You know that I bought it

Let’s start off with “bad, bad boy”.  It mirrors MAATHBP “bad, bad girl” which is fantastic.  Maybe she did it on purpose, maybe it’s a coincidence; either way I love it.  

This part makes me think that she went into this relationship (whatever type it is) believing she was in control.  Taylor is aware that the subject is known to be ‘bad’. Taylor knows that the subject is ‘bad’ for her.  

He’s a “shiny toy with a price”.  Boy toys are boys whom one uses for an intended purpose. Often its for fun (hence ‘toy’).  When something comes with a price, it has a risk versus benefit analysis.  In other words, do the risks of the option outweigh the benefit or vice versa?  Because Taylor goes on to say that she “bought it” it implies that she determined the benefit was greater than the risk.  

killing me slow

Out the window

I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below

So, not going to lie, I struggled for a bit with this one.  The feeling is tangible but putting it into words was difficult.  Initially I was reminded of a song that I love, Killing Me Softly.  However, I eventually decided that the feeling I was picking up was being teased. I imagine it’s a scenario where a game is being played with her emotions.  Once I was able to put it into words I felt better.  He’s playing a cat and mouse game.  The control she has (probably imagined) is slipping.  She’s now waiting for him every night.  She is used to him being below her window.  It’s like a distorted fairy tale.  

 Devils roll the dice

Angels roll their eyes

The continued game imagery.  As well as control imagery.  Clearly this is not up to her but the fates playing with her life. The control of how this is going to go is out of her hands.  

What doesn’t kill me

Makes me want you more

This ties in the rest of the first verse imagery. A Fever Dream High, dangerous and is Killing her Slowly.  She decided that risking this disease was worth the benefit she’d find with him.  A beautiful metaphor for deciding to jump into a relationship.  She comes back and says this isn’t going to kill me, but it is making me want you more. She’s losing control over the situation. The emotions she’s receiving are too powerful to walk away.  She just wants more.  Like a drug.

     (Chorus: )

And it’s new

The shape of your body

It’s blue

The feeling I got and it’s

Ooh

It’s a cruel summer

The shape of his body is new.  Literally it points to his newness.  He’s a new partner.  However, this can be taken figuratively.  The feelings are different to Taylor.  Somehow the subject elicits a different and new response in her heart.

The feeling she has is blue.  This is making her sad to feel this love.  Interestingly, the new/blue references can be linked to a recurring theme through the album and that is the wedding rhyme.  Something borrowed, something blue, something old, and something new.  She’s using the same syntax as before here too.  I’m living for Yoda Taylor.  

It’s cool

That’s what I tell ‘em

No rules in breakable heaven but

Ooh

These seem self-explanatory.  Noteworthy, however is the contrast in word choice between “Summer” (which is hot) and “cool”.  This is a beautiful unsaid connection to Cornelia Street’s lyrics “when we were card sharks”.  This screams poker.  Its clearly a bluff.  It becomes abundantly clear with the bridge.  

Breakable Heaven is such a vivid metaphor for a tentative relationship.  It describes this relationship as a poorly built construct.  The slightest change in pressure, temperature, wind could bring it crumbling down.  And yet it is just so beautiful and seems so pure.  

It’s a cruel summer

With you

Let’s talk about Summer.  I am living in a place called Phoenix, Arizona.  So, I know a LOT about summer.  Its basically one of two seasons that we have.  Let me tell you that this line conjures up so much pain its ridiculous.  I have literally branded myself on a metal seat buckle.  It was painful.  It’s hot. Dehydration is just a thing that happens.  There is sweat, dirt, and no reprieve.  Except for maybe the Costco dairy rooms.  Other than that, it’s miserable.  However, there are some benefits to Summer.  You can bake cookies in your car while you’re at work.  I’m kidding.  A little bit. However, there is so much sunlight. The nights are warm.  Swimming.  I have many good memories attached to summers.  So, hear me out when I say that “Cruel Summer” is more figurative than a literal time stamp.  Granted, the story behind this song could have been set in literal summer.  But saying that it’s a “cruel summer with you” seems to be more of a description than anything else.  I feel that this hearkens back to the beginning of the song where Taylor mentions a “Fever Dream High”.  Summers are long and hot.  Time has its own pace it seems.  This seems to be a theme so far.  He could be the refreshing Costco refrigeration.  Or the large iced water with lemon in it.  But it is gone too quickly.  Eventually the water is gone and you’re thirsty again or you’re kicked out of Costco.  This being left high and dry after such a refreshing moment is cruel.  

      (Verse 2: )

Hang your head low

In the glow of the vending machine

I’m not dying

This is one of the few times in this song that I will say that this is a snapshot memory.  The detail in this is precise in such few words.  It is Taylor’s forte.  We will never know what memory it is that she’s sharing here.  So, I’m going to attach the feeling I get from that last line “I’m not dying”.  

This sounds like a mantra you tell yourself. The feeling I get here is one of grasping for control in an out of control situation.  In fact, it reminds me of myself.  There was one summer that I tried and failed to convince myself that the guy I liked was not the guy I liked.  I then tried to convince myself months later that I just wasn’t in love with him.  It didn’t work.  So this “I’m not dying” business just feels like a person trying to convince themselves that the perfect nature of this image has no affect on them.  She’s ‘melting’ as she’s watching their profile. Maybe they don’t see her moment of control loss.  Maybe they do.

Lyrically it also ties in the “killing me slowly” motif from verse one.  

We say that we’ll just screw

it up in these trying times

We’re not trying

When you’ve been burned one too many times, eventually you start saying you’re just not going to try anymore.  Things are out of control and you just don’t want to live through more heartache.  Everybody’s threshold is different so maybe one person’s never been in a relationship but has seen so many fails so they don’t try.  On the other hand, maybe, someone has been in many heartbreaking relationships, so they’ve stopped trying.  It happens no matter how sad it sounds.  This is also an image that reminds me of summer flings.  It’s a fling, not meant to be taken farther than companionship for a few weeks.  Anything further and it might be too hard to get through.  Its playing it cool in a non-commitment because there is just too much outside pressure.

So cut the headlights

Summer’s a knife

I’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone

So, here we have this knife imagery.  In a way it reminds me of a sadistic game of Russian roulette.  With a knife. It’s a cynical way of saying I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.  All of this is figurative to explain how they’re both playing hot potato with their feelings.  Once again, he’s teasing her and she’s engaged but she’s expecting the worst from this exchange.  

Devils roll the dice

Angels roll their eyes

And if I bleed you’ll be the last to know

She’ll never let him see if her deck was good or not. Taylor will not be letting him know her true emotions.  It seems to be one last grab at control.  She desperately wants to control how this is going to end. Even if she’s bleeding and hurting, her poker face will stay in place.  

        (Chorus Repeat)

        (Bridge: )

ALL THE ROM COM CLIMAX FEELS

I’m drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

The alcohol imagery in her lyrics are just *chef’s kiss*. This is the other snapshot memory but oh so much more loaded.  I think she’s literally drunk, but I also relate to this as a lack of emotional inhibition. She’s done and she’s lost control.

Said ‘I’m fine’ but it wasn’t true

This is how I imagine it.  The subject is at a party or bar with her and he takes the opportunity to make her jealous.  He’s trying to get a rise out of her.  And in order to keep control, she’s pulling the “I’m fine” card.  LADIES.  Oldest trick in the book.  A decent detective can see that you are clearly NOT fine.  

I don’t want to keep secrets

Just to keep you

This is the moment he runs after her in a rom com. The big confrontation.  She’s done trying to keep her feelings to herself. She may also be done sneaking around with him.  She’s in love and she can’t hide it.  

 And I snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer

Just to seal my fate

I have this image of Taylor Swift creeping into a dark garden like a cartoon criminal.  It cracks me up.  

I don’t know—I’m weird.  

However, here she says that this snapshot series of memories have solidified her fate.  She’s finally admitting to him that she was never in control.  

And I scream ‘For whatever it’s worth,

I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?’

Clearly this is a loaded moment.  For starters, if we’re talking specific to Taylor, anybody she loves will be drug through the media mud with her.  That can be terrifying.  

In general, it’s a self-conscious nature.  Her love is a terrible fate.  It also means that if this is a casual situation, its now over. Screaming it is just her fighting at him.  I’m not going to say with.  Its more of an ‘at’ action.  

He looks up grinning like a devil

THIS LINE.  He’s known this. He has been angling for her to finally admit it.  Its been a long con. He’s been teasing her, goading her, so she’ll let him in.  The cheeky devil is clearly pleased with himself.  He’s put her through all this so that she’ll finally let go of controlling this narrative.  He definitely has her number and he most definitely loves her back.  Its frustrating but its sweet.  

         (Chorus/Bridge repeat)

In conclusion. WOW.  What a song.  Taylor Swift has returned to her story telling roots with style.  I feel like I’ve watched a really good rom com.  One where I am playing back my own memories as the plot line.  I get a strong sense of Friends with Benefits vibe, or summer fling but I also can see this applied to the time old ‘are we/aren’t we’ story.  I feel like both life and art melded into each other to create such a beautiful bop.  I really drew from my own memories to create the feeling attached to this.  And I think that’s art.  Its subjective.  Her experience has been made universal by purely being relative to the listener.  

 If you enjoyed this, go ahead and leave me a comment.  You can also message me with requests.  I’ll give them my best shot.  I’ll answer any questions too.  Share your opinions and just be lovely to each other!

 Love,

Lauren

[littledarlinwrites]

Black Velvet Miniseries

Part 1: Kickstart My Heart

Black Velvet Miniseries Masterlist

Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Photographer!Reader

Word Count: 3287

Author’s Note: This is for @kentuckybarnes 3K Writing Challenge. Hannah, thank you so much once again for allowing me the chance to participate and giving me the idea of a Rockstar!Bucky, without you this never would have been written. Also, special thanks to my wonderful beta reader @lokissoul for reading this over and reminding me not to get so stuck in my and be more confident in my writing, you’re a doll! Also, a final tag for @star-spangled-bingo for my Rockstar AU square. 

Summary: The Avengers start their first tour after making their big break. They say Rockstars never die, but is that true? Will the band recover after having it all to nearly losing their lives in one night?

Warnings: I don’t want to give anything away, but there is a car/bus accident scene in here, and therefore a bit of angst. Let me be clear that nobody dies though. Emotional Bucky.

They had it all. The crowd was wild, they were covered in sweat, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’ve all been great tonight! Let’s hear it for everyone that helped put on this show though!” The crowd erupted into cheers that shook the floor beneath Steve’s feet. “Remember to tip the wait staff and don’t text and drive!” Steve bade the crowd his goodnight parting words before walking off the stage. The rest of the band was backstage packing up their instruments and wiping the sweat off their faces. The post-show adrenaline was pumping through their veins and they felt untouchable. They had been working so hard for this break, and the pay off tasted sweeter than they thought possible.

“That was awesome!” Clint exclaimed pumping his fist that was gripping a broken drumstick. His face was still beat red from the exertion of playing his heart out on his drum set. Bucky chuckled at the man’s antics before speaking up himself.

“That was more than awesome, man. I’ve never felt more alive!” Bucky said jumping to his feet after closing his bass guitar case.

“Alright guys, hate to kill the vibe, but we’ve got to get a move on tonight so we can get to the next venue and beat traffic!” Pepper said while directing the crew and answering questions. A chorus of groans followed her statement.

“Guys, I’m sure Pepper wouldn’t mind the party continuing on the bus, where there are two fully stocked mini bars I might add!” Tony spoke up before kissing Pepper on the cheek. Pepper managed the band, and Tony worked lights and tech, but they worked together on getting everybody to one place.

“Anyone touch my vodka and I’ll bash your head in with my guitar.” Natasha piped up, her arms wrapped around Bruce, but loosening their hold.

“Don’t worry my Song Bird, I already hid it,” Bruce said smiling. Natasha wrapped her arms around him tightly again before pulling away to pick up her guitar and head towards the tour bus to snag the shower before anyone else did.

“Hey Tony, is there any mead in those mini bars?” Thor secretively asked with his guitar case slung over his back.

“Bottom shelf, buddy.” Tony tells him before Thor walks away nodding to him with a smile. Clint joined him as the crew hauled away his broken down drum set, talking to Thor about the third song in their set.

“Looks like it’s you and me pal.” Steve spoke to Bucky as they began making their way to the bus.

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal, but tomorrow night we are getting dates.” Bucky said with a chuckle, causing Steve to break out into a laugh.

“Let’s go before they drink all the booze. You know Thor is a bottomless pit.”

“I still swear that guy isn’t human with his tolerance.”

As Steve and Bucky joined the others on the tour bus drinks were thrusted into their hands by Tony. Clint and Thor were still avidly talking about the set they had just performed. Natasha was sitting beside Bruce, her hair still wet and eyes glued to her phone to mess with the playlist that was booming through the speakers. Tony pulled Pepper over to the couch and pulled out a deck of cards and motioned to Steve and Bucky asking if they wanted to play. Considering the male to female ratio, and the fact that the women there were spoken for they played a different version of strip poker, instead of stripping they would drink. Steve had a surprisingly good poker face, much to the chagrin of Thor. Natasha had the best poker face, while Bruce had the worst. So far Thor and Bruce were tied at how much games each of them lost. Natasha and Bucky were tied at how many games each of them won. Clint was texting on his phone not even paying attention to the game any longer. Pepper was talking to the driver about where they had to go next and the itinerary for the next couple of days, and Tony and Steve were trying to out-maneuver the other. Eventually Tony threw down his cards in frustration.

“That’s it lady and gents, I’m out for the night.”

“Sounds like someone’s tired of getting their butt kicked to me.” Steve said, not quite under his breath, mockingly. Tony shot Steve a dirty look and began to open his mouth when Pepper sat on his lap completely halting his train of thought. Bucky clapped his hand on Steve’s shoulder before announcing that he was heading to bed before he got dragged into another game. Clint seconded him and followed Bucky to the back of the bus and claiming the bottom center bunk. Tony began feeling drowsy from the alcohol in his system and decided to make his leave.

“Pep’ honey, I’m gonna go grab a bunk in the back, join me?”

“As soon as we cross state lines, shouldn’t be too long now. Save me some room?”

“You betcha.” Tony hums to her before giving her a kiss goodnight and making his way to the bunk that was sounding cozier by the second. Steve helped Pepper clean up the poker game and various empty glasses. Thor was reading a book on one couch while on the other Natasha was running her hands through Bruce’s hair, who had fallen asleep on the couch beside her. Beside Pepper at the sink Steve spoke up while rinsing out some of the glasses..

“I know I’ve thanked you before Pepper, but we wouldn’t be here on this tour bus without you. I don’t know how you manage to deal with us all sometimes, but I just want you to know that we all appreciate it.”

“Thank you, St-” Pepper was suddenly cut off from a resounding bang from the back of the bus and the bus then lurching violently forward throwing Steve and Pepper off their feet and to the floor. The bus slowly came to a stop on the eerily silent highway.

“Everyone okay?” The tour bus driver shouted out while checking his rearview mirrors before looking behind him into the bus.

“Uhm, I don’t know. What the hell was that?” Steve spoke up as he helped Pepper to her feet. Pepper looked around before making her way to the back of the bus. Steve walked up to the bus driver.

“Looks like a semi behind us, must have hit us. I’m gonna step out and see how bad it is and call 911.” The bus driver said before letting himself off the bus with his phone in hand. Steve turned around when he heard a blood-curdling scream that made his blood run cold. He ran to the back of the bus where Pepper stood frozen. Clint was trying to guide her out of the bunk area when Steve noticed the thin line of blood coming from his ear and panic shot through his veins. Steve looked into the bottom right bunk that was at the very back of the bus and what he saw made his heart stop. Inside Bucky's bunk was not only Bucky, but part of the semi that crashed into the tour bus. A very pale Bucky laid in his bunk knocked out and his left arm was missing. Steve reached out two fingers to his best friends neck looking for a pulse. His hands were shaking so much he almost didn’t feel the faint pulse, but when he did he let out a sigh of relief. Steve began pulling his belt from his waist before carefully climbing over bucky and using it as a makeshift tourniquet to keep Bucky from losing anymore blood. Steve knew from his mom being a nurse that no matter how much he wanted to get his best friend out of there that he had to leave him there for the paramedics, otherwise he could risk paralyzing Bucky if he wasn’t already. Steve took a deep breath and did the hardest thing he’s ever had to do in his life and turn his back to Bucky. He took a step forward and looked into the bunk that caused Pepper to scream. Tony laid there with pieces of shrapnel in his chest. For the second time that night Steve reached out with two fingers to find a pulse. Tony’s pulse was also faint, but it was still there. At that moment Steve heard the sound of sirens quickly approaching and prayed that his friends would get to a hospital in time.

With Bruce in front, Natasha road with Pepper in the back of the ambulance carrying Tony to the hospital while Thor took the front and Steve and Clint road in the back of the ambulance that carried Bucky. Before Steve knows it, they’re at the hospital and Bucky and Tony are rushed back into the OR while Clint is ushered to the ER and the rest are left in the waiting room. Steve sits in the chair wringing his hands. Staring at them. He can’t help but be disgusted with the amount of Bucky’s blood that is still on them. He gets up and heads to the restroom to wash them and scrubs them until they are raw. He walks back into the waiting room and eye’s the group. Natasha had headed to the ER room that Clint was in to check on him. Thor was pacing the room. Bruce was outside smoking a cigarette, a stress habit he had quit a couple of months ago, but tonight it was back in full swing. Pepper sat in the corner crying constantly looking up at the clock or the doors every time she heard a shoe squeak across the shiny tile floor. The hospital had that sterile smell hanging in the air that made Steve’s stomach lurch. He took a seat, put his head in his hands, and waited.

An hour and a half later, Clint and Natasha join them in the waiting room. Clint silently takes a seat beside Steve and leans forward to put his head in his hands. Steve looks to Natasha having noticed the devastated look on Clint’s face. Natasha fixed the grimace from her face and took a deep breath before she spoke, leaning into Bruce for comfort.

“The accident caused Clint’s eardrums to rupture. That’s why there was blood, he uhm, he’ll need hearing aids to be able to hear again.” Bruce wrapped his arm tighter around Natasha to comfort her. Steve shook his head before putting a comforting arm around Clint’s shoulders. Clint looked up at Steve, and he saw his bloodshot eyes. The night seemed like it would never end. Another hour and a half later, a doctor still in scrubs walks out of the OR doors. Everyone’s heads lift up and their stomachs fill with dread. In this moment they would find out the status of one of their friends. And they weren’t ready for the news if it was bad.

“Barnes family?” The doctor called out. Steve raised to his feet and made his way over to the doctor. He felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“Is he-” Steve clears his throat as he trips on the words. “Is he okay, doc?”

“He no longer has a left arm. He’ll have to stay in the hospital for at least the next two weeks as he recovers. He’s gonna be in a lot of pain, however, he should make a full recovery. As soon as the nurses get him situated in a room one will come out and take you to him. He wouldn’t be here if someone hadn’t fastened their belt as a tourniquet. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, he’s got a long road ahead of him, son.” The doctors noted somberly before walking away. Steve lets out a breath he’s been holding and his shoulders drop slightly from all the tension he had been holding in anticipation. Natasha walked up to Steve to see what the doctor had said fearing the worst.

“He’s okay.” Steve managed to croak out before tears of relief shed down his face. Natasha wrapped her arms around him while shooting the others behind him a thumbs up to let them know Bucky was okay. The sigh of relief from the group was audible, and as the doctor said, a nurse was out shortly taking Steve, Natasha, and Clint to Bucky’s room. Another painstaking forty-three minutes later another doctor walks out of the OR.

“Stark?” The doctor called out looking around the room.

“Uh, yeah, that’s uhm, that’s me.” Pepper spoke up clumsily.

“He made it out of surgery fine and we were able to remove most of the shrapnel. There are a few pieces left behind that were too difficult to risk removing so he’ll have to get regular doctors visits to keep an eye on them, but other than that he should make a full recovery. A nurse will be out shortly to let you know where his room is.” Pepper let out an audible cry of relief at the news, throwing her arms around Bruce in a hug. Thor wrapped his arms around the both of them.

Steve sat on Bucky’s right at his bedside listening to the strong and steady beat of Bucky’s heart. He could hear Clint tapping his fingers to the steady rhythm against his legs, he didn’t know if Clint could hear the loud beeping or if it was a result of him watching the heart monitor. Everything was sinking in for Steve and he was exhausted. However, he couldn’t wrap his mind around how fast things had changed in an instant. Steve didn’t know what they were going to do for once in his life.

The next couple days passed by in a blur. Tony was the first to wake up, and Pepper couldn’t stop crying when she saw him open his dark chocolate brown eyes. Another day later Bucky woke up only to be sedated when he started panicking when he saw a doctor and noticed his missing arm. He slept for another day before he woke up again. Steve was more prepared for his reaction this time, and was the first person he saw instead of some stranger. When Steve explained to Bucky what happened Bucky started crying. He didn’t like crying in front of people, but the weight of everything seemed to crash down around him. Everything they had been working for was gone. He couldn’t play his bass guitar anymore, Clint couldn’t hear, Tony would be living in fear that a piece of leftover shrapnel could kill him one day. Bucky couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around the fact that his arm was gone. The phantom pain taunted him and was a constant reminder that he would never be the same. Eventually the doctor got him set up with a special type of physical therapy for amputees. They called it mirror box therapy, basically Bucky would complete physical therapy in front a of a mirror to re-map neural pathways in his brain so his mind could register that his limb was no longer there. At first it just seemed like another cruel reminder to him. He hated looking at himself in the mirror now.

Once Bucky completed his physical therapy his doctor talked to him about a new arm. There was an experimental program for a prosthetic that would allow Bucky to have some feeling and potentially be able to play his guitar again. Bucky jumped at the opportunity and the doctor put him in contact with Doctor Shuri who would have the new prosthetic fitted for him and would help him adjust to his new life style.

It took Bucky a bit to get used to his new arm, but it didn’t lack dexterity and the first day with his new arm he locked himself in his room in the apartment he shared with Steve and practiced strumming on his guitar. It was clumsy at first, he often pressed down on more than one chord when he didn’t mean to. He almost gave up until Steve suggested plucking with his metal arm and putting the fret in his right. It took some adjustments, and Bucky had to get his guitar re-stringed so the strings would be in the correct order again, but slowly he regained his first real sense of normalcy. It took months, but eventually the guys in the band started practicing again. Clint had to adjust the sensitivity of his hearing aids a couple times, and Bucky fumbled more than he’d like to admit, but eventually the band hammered out the basics of covers of songs they knew by heart that helped them get noticed, and some original songs of theirs.

When the first anniversary of the accident came they had a bonfire on Clint’s farm in upstate New York. They sat around the fire talking about life and eventually talking about the shows they played. They missed it. They missed playing in front of a crowd. They missed the adrenaline after the show. By the end of the night, they called up Pepper with their decision that within six months, they would be back on the road. They had been practicing, that had healed, and they had the workings for a new album. Steve had dealt with the accident by not only writing music, but drawing up album artwork that at the time he thought would never see the light of day.

The following week the band met up at the studio and locked themselves away for 3 weeks working on the new songs until the album was finished. Pepper began contacting and booking venues. The band was worried that with the accident happening so soon after their break into the industry they may have slipped off the radar. That was until the most esteemed rock music magazine contacted Pepper when they caught buzz that the band would begin playing again. Shield magazine had interviewed the likes of Marvin Gaye, Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Motley Crue, Led Zeppelin, and countless others that the band looked up to. The magazine wanted to send out an interviewer and photographer to their first show to get their comeback story. Pepper granted them access, and the band was simultaneously more excited and more anxious for their first show. Bucky was a bundle of raw nerves. He was terrified that people would look at him differently with his prosthetic, or that he would fumble and screw up the show in front of a huge audience considering the show had sold out the day tickets were released. The night of the show Bucky thought he might actually throw up on stage. Steve had to give him a pep talk to calm him down.

“You’re gonna do fine Buck. You’ve put in countless hours practicing and dare I say, you may even sound better now than you did before. You got this man. Either way, I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.” Steve told Bucky with his hands on his shoulders. Steve knew how insecure Bucky was about his arm, always covering up the black and gold-toned prosthetic.

“Thanks punk.” Bucky replied to Steve after taking a deep breath. Bucky pulled his bass out of its case and slung the strap around his right shoulder. He practiced a few runs to calm his nerves before plugging his bass into the amp. Each of the band members took one last look at each other heading on stage for the first time since their lives had changed twice in one night.

Tags:

@letstalkaboutsebbaby @itsbuckysworld @caitfairwrites @xxloki81xx

[glenngaylord]

MY MOMENTS OUT OF TIME IN FILM 2017

Instead of a Top 10 List, every year I like to honor a long-discontinued but influential annual column from Film Comment magazine. I couldn’t wait for my father to come home from work with the “Moments Out Of Time” issue.  The writers would cite their favorite scenes, images, or lines of dialogue, even from films they may not have liked, because let’s face it, even bad films may have a great moment or two, unless you were a film called RINGS, CATFIGHT, THE SNOWMAN, or THE DINNER.  In that case, you suck in the most forgettable of ways. Despite some obvious stinkers, this was a great year for film. Some resonated with me, such as I, TONYA and THE FLORIA PROJECT as they tackled the issue of class in America.  Despite being period pieces, films such as DARKEST HOUR and THE POST pinged on topics such as war-mongering and the need for a free press, both of which we seem to talk about daily right now.  I have a few I need to catch up on, such as MUDBOUND and THE SQUARE, and one I recently saw, A GHOST STORY, wowed me, but I haven’t written a review of it yet.  

Even I can’t see them all, so here, in no particular order, are my Moments Out Of Time in film for 2017:

“America. They want someone to love, but they want someone to hate, and the haters always say, 'Tonya, tell the truth!' There’s no such thing as truth. I mean it’s bullshit! Everyone has their own truth.” - I, TONYA

A little girl (the great Brooklyn Prince) stands in front of a motel room door, telling her little friends they’re not allowed to enter.  She pauses, and then mischievously says, “But let’s go anyways!”  in a moment of pure rebellious, but dangerous joy. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

A young man (Lucas Hedges) begs his girlfriend (Saoirse Ronan) not to out him in one of the most touching moments of the year. - LADY BIRD

A woman (Cynthia Nixon’s blazing portrayal of Emily Dickinson) desperate to connect with someone, anyone, lights up whenever she’s around her soon-to-depart friend.  It’s a joy you wish she could have at all times.  It’s that ache to spar with another human that cuts to the core of this lonely tragedy. - A QUIET PASSION.  

Try watching the “I did not hit her” rooftop filmmaking sequence without bursting with glee.  One of the best-sustained comedy sequences of the year. - THE DISASTER ARTIST

A beautiful, long final shot of a young man (Timothée Chalamet) swimming in his tearful thoughts as the end credits role will break your heart. - CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

So will his father’s (Michael Stulbarg) 11th hour speech to him. - CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

A ghost in a white sheet with two eye holes, who has traveled across time for centuries, finally finds something important, which jogs his memory, making him feel less alone in the world, and then in a startling swish, is gone. - A GHOST STORY

Meryl Streep, in the most delicious long pause of 2017, struggles with the tough decision whether to publish the Pentagon Papers or not.  She conveys every pro and con with a series of reactions, leaving the audience breathless until she finally, and thrillingly, becomes a feminist heroine for the ages. - THE POST

Sure, it’s ostensibly Daniel Day-Lewis’ last film, but it’s the women, one with a deadening stare (Leslie Manville) and the other with the best eye flutter I’ve ever seen (Vicky Krieps), who take charge of this fascinatingly perverse story of control. - PHANTOM THREAD

A cleaning woman (Octavia Spencer) dusts a giant steampunk contraption as her mute co-worker looks on, sending the increasingly magical fable into a visually stunning dreamscape. - THE SHAPE OF WATER

“You know I can’t give you the keys, right babe?”  A chilling line in a scene in which a sympathetic, engaging character transforms into a monster, making Allison Williams, so often hated and too easily dismissed on GIRLS, as someone to REALLY watch as her career rises and rises.  - GET OUT

A beloved, iconic character from the original film makes a stunning, surprise appearance.  Despite it being CGI, this was the movie-movie moment of 2017. - BLADE RUNNER 2049

A bellicose, raging Prime Minister, known for his speeches, sits quietly with the square-ish frame filled with dark, negative space and seemingly lit by a single, too-bright light bulb.  He’s alone and yet belongs to us all, the push-pull of this theme resonating throughout the entire film. - DARKEST HOUR

“This didn't put an end to shit, you fucking retard; this is just the fucking start. Why don't you put that on your Good Morning Missouri fucking wake up broadcast, bitch?” - THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

Bill Skarsgård’s reading of the line, “Take it!” will haunt me for years. His Pennywise proved to be surprisingly haunting and indelible. - IT

The film’s not great, but Christopher Plummer and Ridley Scott deserve all the “We’re Not Worthy’s” for pulling off the Great Kevin Spacey Replacement of 2017 in 9 days, and actually delivering a full-bodied, memorable character in the process. - ALL THE MONEY IN THE WORLD

A desperate thief uses his smarts to wheel his badly-injured brother out of the hospital in an impressive feat.  It shows a whip-smart mind in the body of  person with lost potential, and in a moment which proves this well-meaning guy just can’t get a break, it turns out he took the wrong person. - GOOD TIME

Michael Cera, even more villainous and sociopathic than he was in THIS IS THE END, and apparently channeling Tobey Maguire, freaked me out as a hateful, poker-playing celeb. - MOLLY’S GAME

Ok, people will be talking about the biplane scene forever, but nothing made me laugh more than Tiffany Haddish’s reading of this line:  “Girl, you can't get no infection in your booty hole! It's a booty hole!” - GIRLS TRIP

Bridget Everett, in a blazingly intense performance, sings the shit out of Lita Ford’s KISS ME DEADLY in a dive bar and transforms herself from comedienne to serious dramatic actor. - PATTI CAKE$

A crazed woman (Aubrey Plaza) barges in on the wedding of a social media friend and maces her for not getting on the invite list, giving the Facebook effect its full and insane due. - INGRID GOES WEST

A young woman, unable to take one more second of her overbearing, judgmental mother (Laurie Metcalf), surprisingly jumps out of a moving car. - LADY BIRD

Charlize Theron kicks one ass after another in a seemingly single shot (but not really), making this one of the greatest fight sequences ever filmed. - ATOMIC BLONDE

Algee Smith finds the heart of the story as a musician who struggles with his ambitions after a harrowing all-night encounter with racists cops. - DETROIT

Say what you will about the insanity that unspools, but Michelle Pfeiffer as the houseguest from hell was fun to watch and sorely missed when not onscreen. - MOTHER!

As Elton John’s ROCKET MAN plays on the radio, Bille Jean King (Emma Stone) and her new girlfriend Marilyn (Andrea Riseborough) drive in sun-dappled glory, their hair blowing around with each surprising gust of wind.  It’s a perfect evocation of the 70s. - BATTLE OF THE SEXES

After following around an imaginative, enterprising man (Michael Keaton as Ray Kroc) as he develops the most successful fast food chain in the world, and seeing his as a hero, he transforms into a terrible villain about halfway through, making us question the value of the American Dream. - THE FOUNDER

A suicidal Spud, his head covered in suffocating plastic, leans back in his chair and falls backwards off the top of a building, but a flash cut send him to the floor of his apartment where Renton (Ewan McGregor) slides under him to catch him.  One of the most imaginative, emotional cuts in a film I’ve seen this year. - T2 TRAINSPOTTING

Don’t heckle Kumail Nanjiani!  Holly Hunter WILL read you to filth by interjecting, “That is like saying that all frat boys wearing country club hats and Hawaiian shirts have shriveled up  tiny little dicks!” - THE BIG SICK

A young man throws himself down in the sand as bombs explode closer and closer to him. A spectacular feat of cinematography and muffled sound, and one of the greatest shots in cinema history. - DUNKIRK

A mother kicks the chair her little daughter sits in, sending her flying.  A sudden, impactful depiction of abuse. - I, TONYA

Tom Cruise emerges from a crashed plane, his face hilariously covered in cocaine. - AMERICAN MADE

A seemingly sweet young man (Barry Keoghan, my favorite new actor of the year) changes his entire demeanor and quickly, chillingly tells a doctor (Colin Farrell), in no uncertain terms, what is going to happen to him and his family. - THE KILLING OF A SACRED DEER

The best opening sequence award of the year easily goes to a film which mixed musical filmmaking with kinetic car chases and an endearing sense of rhythm. - BABY DRIVER

Eels creepily slither around a woman in a tub in an otherwise completely forgettable, indulgent film - A CURE FOR WELLNESS

Adam Sandler winningly loses his shit as he searches for a parking space. - THE MEYEROWITZ STORIES - NEW AND SELECTED

“See!  I took you on a safari!” exclaims Brooklyn Prince to her friend as they stand in front of a herd of cattle. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

An ape, bigger than ever portrayed before, emerges out of nowhere and swats down helicopters like flies as the camera gloriously swirls around him.  It’s APOCALYPSE NOW’s famous attack scene, but this time the invaded kick the invaders’ asses. - KONG: SKULL ISLAND

A messy trainwreck of a person (Anne Hathaway) lugs a mattress around town and literally confronts her inner demons. - COLOSSAL

A major character unexpectedly spits up blood on another, in a shocking moment (and there are a few in this film) I’ll remember for a long time. - THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

French ACT-UP AIDS activists throw blood all over the offices of a pharmaceutical company, and heroically help change the speed at which drugs were approved for a population in desperate need of good news. - BPM

Despite being a thrilling adventure film, the quiet moments, such as the wonderful final shot of a woman walking out of a room and into the jungle, made this stirring yarn into something more internal and thoughtful. - THE LOST CITY OF Z

By this time, we’ve seen too many cars racing around, so instead we focus on the pleasure of seeing a dreadlocked Charlize Theron deliciously chewing the scenery from the evil lair of her jet, sending her into Faye Dunaway territory. - THE FATE OF THE FURIOUS

The unexpected death of a major star, as a gelatinous, alien creature slides down his throat, destroying him from the inside out in zero gravity, may feel straight out of the ALIEN textbook, but it’s memorable nonetheless. - LIFE

I’m usually not a sucker for Disney movie songs, but I have not been able to get EVERMORE out of my head ever since I saw the film, and I mean that in a really good way. - BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Same goes for Elvis Costello’s fantastic contribution with YOU SHOULDN’T LOOK AT ME THAT WAY, from a beautiful but not-great movie. - FILM STARS DON’T DIE IN LIVERPOOL

Instead of the chestburster, we get the backbreaker, and instead of John Hurt, we get a character we don’t care about…but it STILL manages to be freaky and cool in an otherwise execrable film. - ALIEN: COVENANT

Can we please distribute LICK MY ASS, DIANE t-shirts to every person on earth, or at least make it THE trending hashtag of the year?!! - I, TONYA

Gal Godot donning the titular, classic costume for the first time in the film, charges through the emotional No Man’s Land sequence and into our hearts. - WONDER WOMAN

A seemingly liberal father over-explains his love for Obama to his daughter’s new black boyfriend (Daniel Kaluuya), who makes the Dad feel ok about his issues with race.  It keenly pinpoints the struggle people of color have trying to make white people more comfortable about their discomfort. - GET OUT

Willem Dafoe’s Manager expertly takes charge of a potential child molester, demonstrating his heartwarming, soulful protection of the lovable but annoying little brats who live in his motel. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

The camera whooshes from ground level to an overhead shot as a determined skater prepares for an important routine. - I, TONYA

Yes, the movie is an unholy mess, but Hong Chau’s “I go to Norway” speech is just a little masterpiece. - DOWNSIZING

Feet moving on red splotches of sand as they battle with their light sabers. - STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI

A return to the iPhone footage he used in TANGERINE pays off perfectly in the final sequence, a rush of imagination, and a surprising and unforgettable place to take your little survivor of a main character, even if it’s potentially just a fantasy.  It doesn’t change the fact that a neglected but loved little girl wants a little escape. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

[stelablack]

fic: four times alex danvers almost kissed a girl (and the one time she did)

rated R, ~3,000 words, alex danvers; alex/maggie.   read on ff.net

i -

Vicky was terrible at Chemistry.

Once, before a test, they’d stayed up until 3am so she could memorize the whole periodic table and even then she got a B-. Alex thought she’d never really get it, but she kept helping her because that’s what friends were for. In turn, Vicky would help her with English and the whole 18th century literature. Jane Austen, Jonathan Swift and the likes, they all sounded the same to Alex and she had no idea why they were so important in the first place.

Chemistry, the elements, they were the basics of life, they showed her how and why everything work the way they do, they were a sure fire way of understanding the world around them. The words of Ann Murry weren’t helping her to figure out anything, in fact, they were making everything harder and more complicated.

But they had a system and it worked. By the time they were freshmen they had perfected the system and it was actually fun to study. Vicky had a really interesting way of breaking down the books they were studying by themes and the stories always sounded richer coming from her. The way she talked, Alex couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it never failed to captivate her.

When sophomore year rolled around, Alex started to get restless. She didn’t know why, but she could just feel something was different and it was driving her mad not knowing exactly what it was. That was the year she had a huge falling out with Kara and they spent almost a week not talking to each other; the year she dated Matt Stevens for two weeks and when he tried to feel her up under her shirt she punched him in the groin and he told the whole school she was a frigid bitch. That was so not an easy year for her.

The only thing that made it worth was Vicky and her friendship. They became closer than ever and they had constant sleepovers, which lead to them basically sharing each others beds on a regular basis.

That night they were studying for a chem test, so it was a given it would be a long night. At some point they feel asleep, dead tired from all the actual studying, and when Alex woke up she felt at peace. Vicky had her arm around her, a hand resting low on her abdomen, and that was the first (and only) time Alex realized how soft her friend’s hand was. Vicky was so close she could smell her shampoo and, unconsciously, she buried herself deeper into her friend’s arms for the total of five second before she heard a yawn.

“Morning, Al.”

When she turned around to reply her good morning Vicky was so close she could feel her breath on her face and for a split second Alex thought they would kiss. As soon as that crossed her mind she jumped out of bed and said something about having to take a shower so they weren’t late to class and their test.

(Later that week she went on a date with Vicky’s ex boyfriend and she told herself she was in love with him, that it was real; but, every time he kissed her, all she felt was guilt.)

ii -

Stanford was amazing and her lab partner was awesome!

In her second year at college Alex was finally feeling at ease and enjoying the experience, she wasn’t the new girl anymore, she knew how to go from her dorm to the library and from there to the cafeteria in record time, she didn’t feel the need to prove herself to anyone, she was at home. Finally.

So, when she met Allyson, it felt natural and normal and it had been a long time since Alex had made a friend so effortlessly.

Soon enough they started to hang outside of the lab department, going to the movies and stopping to grab lunch together whenever was possible. At first she thought it was weird that Allyson never talked about guys. One night, they were at the library working on their presentation for the next day and when they took a break the conversation migrated to past experiences with boys but it was mainly Alex talking about all the terrible dates she’d had, and how all the boys she in high school only wanted to sleep with her, nothing more. She spent a good hour talking about herself and, even if Allyson seemed genuinely interested, she never disclosed much about her own experiences.

Later that night, alone in her dorm, Alex told Kara on the phone how nice it was to finally find someone who was as bad as her on the dating game. She could almost her her sister’s pout when she said she didn’t have the dating game down at all either so she could talk to her anytime. “But you’re an alien, sis, so you get a free pass.”

One night, they were at this pub and she could tell she was a little drunk, but then again, so was Allyson, and it was the end of midterms and they deserved to celebrate. A guy was hitting on Allyson pretty hard on the dance floor, trying to grab her waist so Alex acted on pure instinct. She swooped in between the two, turned to Ally and shouted close, really close, to her ear, “Just follow my lead, okay?” her friend nodded and she looked back to the guy, “She’s with me! Get lost!” Allyson got the hint and put her arms on Alex waist, swaying their hips together with the music. The guy looked shocked and almost ran away from the dance floor.

“Ha!! That was awesome!” Allyson shouted as she threw her arms around Alex’s neck and held her close, “We’re sooooo doing that now every time an annoying guy comes our way!” and then she pressed her whole body to Alex’s, she could smell Allyson’s perfume mixed with the scent of tequila they were drinking before and when they parted she could see the most beautiful smile on her friend’s face and they were, again, so close. If she moved about five inches their lips would touch. It would be no effort at all, she thought.

But just as quickly as she was on Alex she was off her and dancing towards the bar to get them another round of beers.

(When she’s asleep that night she dreams of kissing Allyson and when she wakes up with her sheets drenched in sweat her friend asks if she’s okay so she comes up with a story about a recurring nightmare she’s had since she was a kid, but she can’t look her in the eye for a week after that.)

iii -

Brooke is the first openly gay woman she meets.

Quantico is fucking hard and there’s barely time to make friends, and she keeps telling herself she’s not there to make friends, but Brooke is her roommate and she likes to talk so they end up getting to know each other pretty good. Alex tells her about her ex boyfriend and how he cheated on her, Brooke tells her about her last girlfriend and how she’s still in love with her but the FBI has been her dream since forever so this is the time to prioritize and hope to God that after all this training her girl still wants her.

Alex doesn’t say it, but she’s jealous after that first night. She doesn’t have someone waiting for her, at the very least she has Kara, she’s the one for whom she’s doing this whole thing in the first place, but that’s very different for the kind of waiting she wants. And that’s why she doesn’t like those romcoms Kara keeps insisting they should watch on sisters night. She doesn’t want to be reminded of what she never had.

One night, after a particularly gruesome training session, Brooke brings out the booze and that’s the first time Alex drinks whiskey. It burns in her throat but the after taste is worth it and she decides she likes it. They’ve had a few glasses when Brooke tells her she got an email from her girl saying she’s dating this guy now, how she thinks she’s in love with him and how she didn’t want to hurt Brooke so she thought it was better to come clean with her now rather than later, when she’s out of training.

The look on her roommate’s face is devastating, she’s close to tears and Alex doesn’t know what she should do so takes a page out of Kara’s book and hugs her, “Oh man, I’m so sorry, Brooke… For what it’s worth, the loss is all on her.” when her friend just keeps crying she continues, “Guys aren’t even all that great, believe me.”

That’s what it takes to make her laugh and Alex feels her chest expand with pride, see, she can be a good friend, she can maintain a healthy friendship with another human being that’s not her sister (and even then that’s debatable since her sister is, in fact, not a human being).

“It’s a crime that you’re straight, Alex.” It’s supposed to come out as a joke but the air gets thick in the room as soon as the words are out and Brooke gets up from the place where Alex was holding her with this horrified expression on her face that Alex isn’t even sure what’s it supposed to be about. “Oh my God, Alex, please, it was a joke. I was joking, I swear! I drink and stupid comes out, I’m so sorry.”

Alex always liked to think she had a pretty good poker face, she knows for a fact that she works well under pressure and, see, she’s been getting trained on how to lie on the spot for a living so she puts all the things she learned to good use. She laughs and waves a hand towards Brooke, beckoning her back to the bed where they’re seated, “I’d be the worst lesbian ever. I suck so much at being straight, can you imagine what I would be like? Just terrible.”

“Oh God, Alex-”

She pulls Brooke to her side when she doesn’t come willingly, “We’re fine, relax...”

She lays her head on Alex’s shoulder and hugs her arm close. They stay that way for a little while, just being together. “You’re an amazing friend, Alex. Seriously. Sorry about that.”

Alex kisses her head and say everything’s fine and she will be fine eventually and she’ll make some lucky girl out there very happy someday. Brooke lifts her head and looks into Alex’s eyes, they’re shining with unshed tears and for a second Brooke’s eyes flicker down to Alex’s lips.

As soon as they lowered they came back up and she’s lifting herself from the bed and going to her vanity on the other side of the room claiming she still has some things to do for tomorrow and Alex gets up and goes to the shower.

As she showers she tells herself she was being a good friend. Consoling her broken heart, that’s what friends do. Friends. Her comments about Alex was a joke and they were friends. They hugged and talked as friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

(She goes home that weekend and she tells a squealing Kara about this really cute guy that she wasn’t sure, but she thinks he was hitting on her and when she describes him to her sister she could tell he looked a lot like a male version of Brooke in her head.)

iiii -

Life sucked.

It was the anniversary of her father’s death, her mother had a convention she couldn’t get out off in New York and Kara was on a plane to Paris to meet Cat for God knows what reason and she was alone.

The worst day of the year and her family was scattered around the world and in that moment she’s never felt so lost. Adrift. Floating.

She left the house otherwise she’d end up crying again and she was tired of crying today. So she went to the bar with the good, expansive booze, a good place for her to wallow on her sadness without disturbing anyone. Yeah. Awesome idea.

Alex orders shots. Three to be exact. Tequila. The devil’s drink. That’s how pathetic she’s feeling tonight, she’ll be doing shots of tequila alone. God, her life is a mess.

The bartender, a woman that looks like she’s her age and, wow, she’s really pretty you know, for a woman. Is she already drunk? The bartender looked at her funny, probably because she practically inhaled the shots she was given. She asks for another shot, but the woman doesn’t look like she’s all that willing to help her drown her sorrows.

“How about something lighter? A beer?”

Alex snorts, “Please, I came here because of the good booze. C’mon, at least one more and then a beer.” The woman stares at her like she’s unwavering in her aid to make her not so drunk but today is not the day for games. She’s not in the mood for this, “I’m paying and I’m okay. Please, just serve me another shot.”

The bartender shakes her head but serves her nonetheless, “I’ll only give you another shot after this one if you either eat something or give it a rest for about half an hour.”

Alex nods but she sees the woman left a beer next to her and that’s good enough for now.

She stays the whole night. It’s almost 02:30 when the woman tells her they’re closing. She spent the whole night watching over Alex, seeing if she was okay. She listened when Alex told her about her dad. Alex almost could see the pity in her eyes, but she wasn’t really in any state to complain about pity looks. She was the drunk at the bar that refuses to leave even when they’re closing. Really, she was so pathetic. She just wanted to forget this day ever happened.

“Let’s go, Alex… I got a cab waiting for you outside.” The bartender, Lyla was her name, went around the counter to help her up and out to the cab, she got an arm around Alex’s waist and suddenly all she could see was Lyla’s face. Fuck, she was really pretty. Her hair looked soft. Could hair be soft? It sure looked like it.

(She was so drunk, that’s what she told herself when she was inside the cab thinking about how Lyla’s hair really was soft when it brushed against her shoulder and how her hand was firm on her waist and how good it was to have someone to help you carry the weight.)

iiiii -

She hated airports, but today she was making an exception.

She didn’t bring flowers. That was so cliché. She didn’t want to be a cliché, even if sometimes they were fun and sweet, today was not a day for that. She also couldn’t stand still she was so nervous. She shouldn’t be nervous, there was no reason for nervous. She just wanted her here already.

Maggie’s cousin got married three days ago in Nebraska and, apparently, the Sawyer family had all sorts of celebrations when it came to tying the knot, because Maggie was there for a week. She got a leave from work, she really liked this cousin, she said she couldn’t miss her wedding.

She invited Alex to come along, but she knew things with Maggie’s family was not easy, the stress of a wedding was enough to make people go crazy and she didn’t want to meet them (the good part of them, the part that mattered and had helped her girlfriend when she needed the most) with the possibility of things going sour. She wanted them to like her. She wanted to make a good impression. She wanted them to call Maggie after they’d left to tell her how amazing her girlfriend was and how they approved of the whole thing.

So Maggie went alone to Nebraska to stay there a whole full week while Alex stayed in National City. It was actually kind of good because she was in debt with Kara and some sisters nights were in order to make Supergirl not want to kill Maggie for taking all of her sister’s time. Of course Kara was happy for her, but they needed their own time without other parties involved. She knew that. She missed spending the night at her sister’s place after binge-watching whatever was new on Netflix, too.

But now her girlfriend was coming back and the board told her the plane was not delayed so she should be seeing the dimpled smile she loved so much any minute now.

“Danvers!”

People should not look good after coming out of a plane. It wasn’t normal. But shit, her girlfriend looked beautiful. Her smile light up Alex’s heart in ways it had never been lit and she couldn’t believe how much she’s missed her.

Maggie was trying to make her suitcase go in the direction she wanted it to go so she missed when Alex almost kicked it away while trying to get to her. “You’re back!”

She was about to reply but Alex’s hand were already on her face bringing her lips down on Maggie’s and she tasted sweet, and fruity, like she was having a cocktail while waiting on her. It was supposed to be a chaste kiss, a welcome home, but Maggie parted her lips and Alex waited no time to dive into the kiss with all she had, tongue and lips and teeth.

They heard a throat clearing around them but Alex would be damned if she’d let anyone ruin this sweet, sweet moment; but she did tone it down, let it cool while she was still kissing the hell out of her girlfriend because she wanted to, because she could.

“Wow, and I was gonna ask if you’d missed me.” Maggie joked as they held each other in the middle of the arrival’s lounge, nothing more important than this.

“I love you.” It wasn’t the first time they’d said it, but it was special. It always was with them.

“I love you too, babe.” And when she looked in Alex’s eyes she could see it, she was home.

[reivenesque]

A Family We Chose For Ourselves CH4

Chapter 4: Kollektiv (2957 words)

“Remember your guru’s words, Eva. Where there’s a house in the heart there’s another heart—”

“Shut up, guru!” Everyone yells simultaneously.

“You need to stop murdering that proverb, Eskild. Jesus Fucking Christ.” Eva doesn’t think she’s ever heard Linn raise her voice before. But there’s obviously a first time for everything.

“So you and Chris, huh?”

After the initial shock of what happened finally begins wearing off, Eva can finally think straight and like herself again, she’s beginning to find this question particularly grating.

She’s standing in the corner of the room, facing the monotonous white wall for some inexplicable reason, not like there was a plant or an awful painting in sight to blame her distraction on. Maybe she wasn’t as completely back herself as she thought.

It’s one of the Penetrator guys loitering around that approached her. A handful of them had left about half an hour ago and the rest were nonchalantly strewn across the room in various positions. Her own set of friends were scattered around, a few of the guys were conversing with a couple of the Penetrator guys and Noora was messaging someone (most likely William) while seemingly lost in her own little world. Isak and Even were huddled together a decent ways away from the nearest group of people, Even looked slightly unnerved but Isak was holding his hand and speaking in low whispers into his ear. Eskild was engaged in a far too animated conversation with one random Penetrator member who looked confused about whether to feel disturbed or slightly turned on, or disturbed that he was slightly turned on. Magnus, Vilde and the others were huddled together in the opposite corner while Sana surveyed the surrounding with an unnerving poker faced glare.

“Yes, me and Chris,” she says, almost like a challenge as she turns to look at him in the end, daring him to say one misogynistic word.

“Oh,” he says which was not what Eva was expecting at all. “That’s great. He really likes you, you know. I can tell.” He adds, and on a scale of one to ten on the list of what Eva absolutely did not expect to hear, that was about a twelve.

“Oh,” she says eloquently in return.

“He’s a lucky guy,” Perpetrator Guy #3 adds and Eva decides that she really should find out his name.

Admittedly of all the times she’s found herself having this conversation tonight, this was arguably the sweetest outcome of them all. Who would have thought?

A commotion near the entrance draws her attention and the attention of pretty much everyone in the room.

The door swings open and in comes William, flanked by the Penetrator guys who had left earlier, strolling in like he owns the place and the souls of everyone in the room, which at the moment didn’t seem as farfetched at it sounded. William looked both pissed and distraught and guilty at the same time, like his mind couldn’t decide which emotion should take precedence. Considering the allegation that the Yakuza guys were involved, Eva couldn’t blame William for feeling guilty. Chris and the guys got beat up because William beat up someone first. They were looking for him while he was off wooing Noora on some hilltop with hot chocolate and serenading her with tales of his misspent youth (or so Noora said). Instead the guys paid the price. And now, Chris got attacked while he was off gallivanting in a foreign country wooing hot upper-class British ladies with tea and mini sandwiches (or so Chris said).

Noora approaches William without hesitation and pulls him into a hug when he gets close enough. William melts into Noora’s embrace and Eva looks away, feeling like the intimate moment wasn’t theirs to infringe on.

She doesn’t even know what time it is right now, a glance at the clock tells her it’s fucking late o’clock but no one’s come out to talk to them or tell them about Chris yet and the waiting feels like hell. Some of the guys look like they’re one sheep away from dozing off but forcing themselves to stay awake until they get news about their friend.

“Eva?”

She hears her name and it sounds weird rolling off this unfamiliar tongue. She turns around to face William and he looks terrible. His hair is dishevelled and his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep or crying or both. Not that she blames him. If she was in his position and Noora or Jonas or someone she cared about got hurt as a result of something she’d done, she’d be wrecked. But even if it wasn’t anything she did, the thought of Jonas hurt, the thought of Noora or Sana or Vilde or Chris or even Isak hurt was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She couldn’t even imagine what William was feeling. She heard from Noora that Chris was Williams best friend, he’d said so himself, and the more she paid attention to it after she found out, the more she noticed how close they really were, even going beyond Russ and Penetrator stuff. If William was there then Chris was always hanging around somewhere close and vice versa. When William decided not to leave for London—before he then decided to leave for London again—it was Chris he stayed with when he didn’t want to go back to his apartment.

Outside their barely-there relationship, Eva didn’t really know all that much about Chris, only what Noora had heard from William. In fact Eva felt like she knew William better than she knew Chris. Where were his parents? She’d been over at his place a couple of times but no one was ever around. He never talked about them; he never brought them up in conversation the way she did even though she barely saw her mom during the best of times. The name that was mostly brought up in conversation with Chris was William; William this, William that, William did this and said that and things like that. Eva had asked jokingly whether William was the third wheel in their relationship or was she. Chris had grinned one of his Cheshire cat grins and said with a shrug, “It’s just William,” like that should have explained everything. Perhaps in his mind it did.

A name calling for Christoffer Schistad from the door William had entered through brought all conversation topics to an abrupt halt. There was a doctor in dark green scrubs that seemed far too stained with splotches of brown to not make everyone’s heart simultaneously skip a beat. But right there he stood, calling for Chris, not at all prepared from the rush of teenagers hurrying towards him.

All it takes is a stern word from William to make them all quiet down and take an obedient step back.

The flustered doctor subconsciously wipes away the sweat on his forehead, trying not to show his relief when his eyes locks on William.

“Parents or family of Christoffer Schistad?” he asks again.

William’s answer is dismissive and unexpectedly cold. “His parents aren’t here. We’re his family.”

The doctor exhales loudly, running his hand once through his salt and pepper hair. “Christoffer—”

“His name is Chris,” William interrupts coolly.

“Well…okay—Chris,” the doctor says, bringing his hands up in front of him as if in submission before his tone turns sombre. “Your friend was brought in with a couple fractured ribs, a concussion and a myriad of bruises and lacerations. The immediate concern though was the stab wound to the lower abdomen. The concussion is mild and while not without its risks, it isn’t immediately life threating. He fractured three ribs; they’re painful and will undoubtedly cause him discomfort for some time but they’ll heal up well with time and rest. The remaining injures are just superficial, but the stab wound is much more severe and complicated. All things considered, he’s lucky that it didn’t hit any major organs or blood vessels, but it nicked a section of his intestines. We’ve gone in a fixed it and made sure there are no other undetected injuries. He did well in surgery and we’re monitoring him in recovery while he wakes up from the anaesthesia. The nurses will be taking him up to the ICU soon so we can keep a close eye on him for at least the next 12 to 24 hours. We need to discuss further treatment with his parents though.”

A soft fuck echoes around the room after the doctor finishes speaking and the guys in the back start chattering among themselves. Eva doesn’t know what they’re saying but judging from their tone alone, it was obviously nothing good. She concentrated on William instead who’s still engaged in a conversation with the doctor.

“I’ll have his dad call the hospital to take care of the insurance stuff,” William says, but doesn’t address the doctors comment about the treatment. “I’ll deal with the rest. He’s going to be okay though, right?”

“Barring any unforeseen complications, your friend should be perfectly fine. He’s going to need to be on bed rest for a while and on limited activity for even longer. Also no drinking, drugs and partying would be the ideal,” the doctors tacks on the last bit as if he knows exactly who he’s dealing with.

Eva can’t move. She can’t breathe, she can’t think. She can only think of the words surgery and major organs and fractured ribs and concussion and imagining Chris on that operating table being cut open and cut into like some biology experiment. She imagines Chris unconscious. Chris bleeding out on the dark corner alone and in pain while Eva was warm and content in the apartment with her closest friends thinking the absolute worst about him. Did he feel like he was dying? Was he scared? He must have been. He must have called William, forgetting that his closest friend was thousands of kilometers away and being unable to ask for help when he answered. Was he conscious when Eva called dozens of times? When William called probably twice that many times? Did he feel alone and abandoned the entire time, or did he realize in the end that all his friends were out there looking for him, worried out of their mind?

Eva feels the warm tears trickle down the side of her cheek and a large hand coming to rest on her shoulder, squeezing it gently and glances over to see Even’s kind face smiling comfortingly back at her. “It’s going to be okay. He has his friends and the people who care about him here to support him,” Even says and Eva knows immediately that his words weren’t spoken lightly. His eyes spoke of experience and his own pain and fear and Eva manages a weak smile back at him. It seems to be enough because his smile is beaming.

“Eva.”

Another unfamiliar voice calls her name. At this point Eva was fairly certain that most voices calling her name would be unfamiliar voices considering that she only really knew two, maybe three, guys out of everyone in the room.

It’s no real surprise to find William walking up to her, he doesn’t look any better than when he stepped through the waiting room doors not even an hour ago. The dark circles and bags under his blood shot eyes were too prominent. His hair was tousled yet smooth like he’d been running his fingers nervously through them a thousand times. He walked into the hospital waiting room with nothing on him besides his phone and his wallet meaning that he must have dropped absolutely everything to rush to Chris’ side.

Eva felt like she was seeing William and the Penetrators properly for the very first time.

How many hours had it been since the party at Isak’s apartment, painting glittery paper mâché dildos and defiling classic Christmas songs with crude vulgarity—which was mostly Eskild. Or rather just Eskild. Was it that long ago that William was back in London doing god only knows what—not Noora, as Chris would argue, and her Chris was still suspiciously absent but without any real cause for concern. It feels like she’d spent all her energy worrying the night away and she realized that if it hadn’t been for the phone call from William, they would still be back at the apartment being merry and jolly, getting drunk and having fun and she’s be too pissed at Chris standing her up to even consider the possibility that he was somewhere out there in the elements, alone and bleeding to death on the cold unforgiving pavement.

An involuntary shiver runs through her spine at the thought.

But they weren’t back at the apartment partying. The Penetrators weren’t with their hook up girls at the dance party drinking themselves into the ground. William wasn’t back in London, thinking up excuses and dodging calls from Noora which was exactly what he spent his days doing according to her. Even Jonas who had every reason to hate both her and Chris was there, more so than that he’d actually ventured out into the cold with her to look for him because she was worried. Same with Isak and Even, the latter barely knew her and didn’t know Chris at all. None of her friends really knew anything about Chris. He was only that hot guy who makes out with Eva sometimes—Eskilds’ words—or Penetrator Chris or William’s fuckboy friend or the guy who got punched in the face by those Yakuza dudes while Noora was off seducing William thru the sexiness of her gigantic beige sweater and comfortable loafers—also Eskilds’ words. Hell, a glance around the room even showed Linn there. And as far as Eva knew Linn never left the apartment.

Sometimes Eva thinks her internal monologue gets in the way of her real life functionality because William’s standing right in front of her and she didn’t even remember him walking up.

“I talked to the doctor and he said one or two people can go see him for a bit.” Eva’s thinks William is waiting for some sort of response but she’s pretty sure she didn’t hear a question anywhere in there.

“O-kay?”

Eva sympathized with William having to deal with her at that moment, especially considering that he looked like crap and was probably feeling the emotional consistency of crap; it was his best friend there in the hospital. He has far too much patience dealing with people than anyone ever gave him credit for.

“Do you want to come with me?” he says, enunciating each word deliberately making sure she actually understood him this time.

“Are you sure? I mean his friends are—”

“I’m sure,” William says without hesitation. “I know he’d want you there.”

A warm feeling creeps up on Eva at his words and she just nods, not trusting herself with actual words.

She feels William’s strong arm circle her shoulders as he leads her towards the door where the doctor who was looking slightly more nervous than he did a minute ago was standing waiting.

“Tell Chris we’re all here for him,” of the Penetrator guys yells out from the crowd, eliciting a murmur of agreement from the rest. William nods but says nothing.

“We’ll be right here waiting for you okay?” A softer voice speaks, and Eva turns to look at Noora who’s giving her a look that’s half sympathetic and half assurance. Eva appreciates it more that she can articulate at the moment.

“Remember your guru’s words, Eva. Where there’s a house in the heart there’s another heart—”

“Shut up, guru!” Everyone yells simultaneously.

“You need to stop murdering that proverb, Eskild. Jesus Fucking Christ.” Eva doesn’t think she’s ever heard Linn raise her voice before. But there’s obviously a first time for everything.

She leaves the safety of the waiting room and the comforting presence of her friends and ventures out into the cold, unfeeling hallway of the hospital with William at her side, holding her close almost as if it was her presence being the comfort for him instead of the other way around. Eva doesn’t mind, it makes her feel less of a burden and less like everyone around is shouldering her emotional weight. She feels useful for the first time that night. She circles her own arm around Williams’ waist and it jerks him out of whatever thoughts were currently plaguing his mind. The fear in his gaze is palpable and the corner of his eyes is damp with suppressed tears. Looking at William at that moment, seeing the real William for the first time, Eva thinks she can see exactly what made Noora fall so hopelessly in love with this person.

“He’s going to be okay,” she hears herself say, echoing the words she’s been told too many times that night. She thinks that maybe no one has said those words to William yet, because he’s supposed to be the strong one, the one holding it together. His breath hitches and he quickly looks away. “What happened wasn’t your fault,” she adds and she sees the exact moment William relinquishes control and his face just crumbles. Eva stops them in their tracks and pulls William into a much needed hug. William reciprocates without hesitation, burying his face in her shoulder, his arms encircled around her waist holding onto her like a lifeline. Eva pretends not to notice the way his shoulders shake and the sound of hitched sobs as he cries softly into the crook of her neck.

She was okay with this, being the one offering comfort. With everyone else she understands their willingness to offer her comfort, because Chris means the most to her. But here, at this moment, in this empty hallway with its monotonous white walls, Eva is all too willing to offer William the comfort he needs because she knows that Chris means absolutely everything to him.

tbc.

Next ▸

[special-agent-fiction]

Duo - Chapter 4

Washington D.C.; 1959

Eva shifted against the leather bench of the Cadillac Eldorado that Napoleon was yet to stop talking about. She rolled her eyes as his hands stroked the thin steering wheel before spouting off another fact about his beloved new car.

“Napoleon, I love you dearly.” She told him, turning to face him as the binoculars she had been peering through came to rest on her lap. “But if you try and enlighten me with another titillating fact about this car which, honestly, looks no different to that blue one over there…” She nodded to the car parked on the street opposite. “…I will kill you.”

“A little melodramatic, dear, don’t you think?” He asked with a laugh as she huffed before returning to peer at the hotel they were parked down the street from.

They sat in silence for a while; the low hum of the radio the only source of noise as they passed the set of binoculars back and forth, waiting for their marks to arrive.

“I hate fake engagement rings.” She sighed, glancing down at the gaudy rock on her finger as Napoleon took his turn with the binoculars. “They’re just so…fake.”

“Next time I’ll be sure to tell Bennett that and we’ll see about getting you a real diamond that big.”

“You know what I mean.” She chided, rolling her eyes as he gave up on staring at the distant entrance to the luxury hotel. “It’s not just that this diamond is fake…it’s that, even if it were real; it doesn’t mean anything.” She explained, toying with the ring. “All it is, is an unnecessary beacon telling the world that this woman is off limits and whenever anybody comments on it she had to fawn over her fiancé as though he’s bloody Jesus!”

“So when I propose, stick with simple?” Solo joked, nudging her to move her attention from the admittedly huge rock.

“Exactly.” She smiled at him, finding comfort in his easy smile and joking words.

She had been more surprised than anyone when, after their little heart-to-heart last year, they had become inseparable. It was as though an unbreakable bond had formed as they spent hours trading stories of their youth and their struggles to carve out places for themselves in their respective Intelligence Services.

Bennett had of course hated it. The man was baffled as the pair regularly met for drinks after a tough day and his never ending sneer at their growing friendship had resulted in many a glare thrown their way as they whispered through his debriefings.

She’d like to think that she’d had a calming effect on the Agent at her side and truthfully, she probably had; the man paid far more attention these days and she often found him making notes almost as meticulous as her own.

But despite all of that, she had a lot to be grateful for as well; Solo had actively encouraged her to not take things so seriously and to let her hair down once in a while, though she suspected he wasn’t quite expecting to find her in the centre of the dancefloor last month when they’d been in Miami chasing a lead. She stifled a laugh as the look on his face returned to her mind; the usually polished Agent had been agape as he watched her twirl and laugh with the locals, the fruity cocktails in his hands forgotten as he immediately joined her; her red strappy cocktail dress flaring out as he took her hand and they lost themselves to the insatiable rhythms around them.

“And if I’m not mistaken…” She was broken from her thoughts by Solo’s characteristic drawl and watched as the man leant forward, the binoculars glued to his eyes. “…that’s them.” She too leant forward and let out a sigh of relief as the pale green soft-top pulled up outside the hotel.

“Finally.” They had been sat here for three hours. “Ready?” She asked, primping her hair one last time before they exited the car.

“Ready, my sweet.” He grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to the fake engagement ring before stepping out of the vehicle and jogging around to hold the door open for her.

“Really darling, must you abandon me again?” Eva asked, her perfected American accent dripping as she clung onto Solo’s arm. “You know how lonely I get.” Batting her eyelashes up at him, she felt the urge to vomit as she pictured how they must look to the rest of the guests in the hotel lobby.

“I know sweetheart, but it’s only for a few hours.” She had to give it to Solo; he was excellent at this role. Although, the amount of times they had played it over the past year, she’d be concerned if he wasn’t any good at it.

“Can I help you?” They both tore their eyes away from each other as they reached the desk and with a pout, Eva turned away from her ‘husband’ as he checked them in. allowing her fingers to dance over the wood, her gaze danced around the room and sure enough; they had an audience.

“Are you here for the poker game, Sir?” The clerk asked and Eva turned back to the pair.

“What else?” She sighed dramatically, picking an imaginary piece of dirt from Napoleon’s collar. “There isn’t anything in this world that could tear my husband away from our bed, unless there’s the prospect of handling a dirty pack of cards.”

“Forgive my wife.” Napoleon’s eyes twinkled as he glanced down to her. “She gets awfully huffy whenever I’m due a big game.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Have I ever lost?”

That was the line that sealed it; she could feel the atmosphere behind them change and she was sure that the couple loitering a few paces from them were ready to swoop in.

“Not yet.” She conceded, lifting onto her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Your key; Sir, Ma’am.” The clerk offered them a tight smile as he held out the room key. “Your bags will be waiting for you.”

“Excellent.” Napoleon pocked the key. “Now, point us to the bar.”

It hadn’t taken very long at all for her and Napoleon to be ‘bumped into’ at the bar and soon enough they were sitting with the very couple they had been waiting for only moments earlier.

“I hear you’re playing tonight.” Eva felt the tip of her nose sneer slightly as Lindon Barclay; renowned poker cheat who used his winnings to fund various arms deals, leant forward from his bucket seat to tap the edge of his cigarette against the crystal ashtray perched on the small table they had congregated around.

“You hear correctly.” Solo smiled as she was sucked into an inane conversation with the one and only Samantha Barclay.

Eva had her suspicions about the woman; she was too perfectly coiffed and her words too…rehearsed as they chatted about the latest styles before moving onto the topic Eva had been leading them towards for some time now.

“And what are your plans for tonight?” Samantha asked as she too tapped the ashes away from her cigarette.

“Same as always.” Eva sighed. “A good luck kiss and then whatever poor selection of magazine the hotel offers.”

“Poor you.” Samantha cooed before pretending to have an ingenious idea. “Well you simply must join myself and the other wives instead!” Eva forced a confused look as the woman tittered on. “Oh we have this little tradition; we all watch the first few hands for good luck before retiring next door for drinks; it can be such a lonely evening otherwise.”

“A marvellous idea.” Eva agreed before turning and tapping Napoleon on the arm, pulling him from his own conversation. “I trust you would happy with this, dear?”

“With what, my love?”

“Me joining the other wives tonight.” He glanced over to Lindon; the man watching them intensely. “Any opportunity to see you, my love, is fine with me.”

The slinky silver cocktail dress was like a second skin on her as she and Napoleon descended the hotel’s main staircase together. The foyer was abuzz with activity; men and women stood together in groups, sipping at drinks as they eagerly awaited the start of the poker game.

“Tell me you know what you’re doing.” She pressed as they weaved through the crowds.

“I know what I’m doing.” He chuckled as he reassured her for the third time since they’d left the room and, with a quick squeeze of the hand in the crook of his elbow, all worries vanished from her -face and her persona fell into place.

“I know what I’m doing.” She repeated his words from earlier as she pulled against the rope restraints holding her to the chair. “I know what I’m doing.” She mocked, blowing a fallen strand of hair from her face. “Why do I trust you?” She craned her neck to steal another glance at the man sat behind her. There was still no answer from him and she sighed. “Come on Napoleon, you need to wake up.” She pulled at her bindings once again, the chair back slamming against his as she uselessly fought against the coarse knots.

“Can’t a guy get a nap in peace?” She wanted to kiss and kill him at the same time as his groggy words filled her ears. “What happened?”

“You were too good.” She told him, her arms falling limp as she gave up on the rope. “And too cocky and then they hit you.” Her voice was devoid of emotion as she recalled how quickly Napoleon had been pinned by Lindon Barclay’s stooges before the attack began.

“That…” He began as he tried to roll his shoulders. “…I remember.”

“I’m surprised you can remember anything with the force they hit you.”

“What happened next?”

“Well, once you were motionless in a pool of your own blood, they dragged you into the adjoining room and tied us together.” She sighed. “And we’ve been here for the last two hours.”

“Where are they?”

“Probably turning over our room.” She told him. “Or figuring out where to bury us once they’ve killed us.” She felt him begin to attack the ropes with the same vigour she’d had when they’d first been imprisoned in this damned room. “I told you this was a stupid plan, Napoleon…he’s an arms dealer and we tried to ensnare him with a poker game.”

“It was a good plan.”

“Clearly.”

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming.

The first few hands had gone completely to plan; he’d started well and stayed firmly in the middle of the game, then he’d lost once or twice before building up a good streak of decent wins. The plan was to then end up in a one-on-one game with Barclay, from there Napoleon would have to judge the situation and end up with enough of a repertoire with the man that a partnership would be discussed.

He’d judged it wrong.

From there it was all a bit of a blur really. All he could remember were hands forcing him to his knees and then a flurry of blows and a flash of silver as Eva was caught by another of Barclay’s goons. He could make out her face as clear as day; the anguish as more and more blows hit him, her arms forced behind her as she tried to fight the man holding her; the man three times her size.

And then there was damp carpet under his cheek and a red stain forming around it. There was a flicker as a silver dress broke free and then a hand on his head, smoothing back his hair before she was pulled away from him and his eyes flickered shut.

Waking up and not being able to move his arms was more of a shock than it should have been, really. He’d hoped it had all been a bad dream and the jolt that had woken him would be from an elbow as Eva spotted their marks entering the hotel. But no, they weren’t in the Cadillac, they were in some sitting room off the main ballroom and it had been the back of her chair as she struggled against restraints.

Yes, he’d definitely judged it wrong.

“It was a good plan.” He insisted. And it had been; nobody had been able to get close to Lindon Barclay in a professional measure and then they’d received a piece of intel stating that Barclay had met his right-hand man at a poker game. He’d apparently been so impressed with the calm demeanour and determination to win that he’d hired him on the spot.

Recreating it had been a solid plan. But of course Eva had disagreed and said it was too risky; they were too exposed and there was no chance of back-up in the busy hotel. He’d eventually swayed her and now…well now there was a length of rope biting into his wrist as he fought with it.

“Clearly.” She snorted and he tried to ignore the fact that she wasn’t fighting the rope anymore; that she’d given up.

“Help me get these ropes off.” He instructed, twisting his hands to try and find some give in the bindings. “Eva, we’ve got to get out of these.” He insisted as he felt no movement behind him.

“What do you think I’ve been doing while you were napping?” She bit out. “I can’t get the knot and my wrists are smaller than yours so what makes you think that-” She stopped as his fingers brushed against hers. There was a heartbeat of silence before she stretched out to get a better grip and intertwined their fingers. “They kept hitting you.”

She paused and he had to give it her; any other agent would probably be shaking or crying right now but she was just…stoic.

“They kept hitting you and then they wouldn’t let me check that you were alive.”

“I’m alive.” He assured her. “And still ravishing underneath all these bruises.” He felt a smile tug at his lips as she laughed.

“Well thank heavens for that.” She joked and he felt a breath of relief leave him as her fingers moved from his and began pulling at her ropes again. “Because the moment you become ugly, I’m requesting a new partner.”

“I knew you only kept me around for my looks.”

“Why else would I put up with you?”

“Because the lock on my cufflink is incredibly sharp?” He asked and felt her go still. “And because there’s a bug under the poker table?”

“Oh you beautiful man.” She breathed as she reached out and he felt her fingers brush over his wrists as she strained to reach his cufflinks. He felt the small weight on his shirt sleeve fall and grinned as the next sound in the room was the gentle sawing of rope.

“I don’t know how you two keep pulling it off.” Agent Bennett’s glare was doing nothing to dampen the grins of the two agents stood in front of him.

“Let’s call it excellent pairing.” Napoleon offered as he continued to bat away the medic that kept trying to corner him for stiches.

“Hmm.” Bennett eyed them before sighing. “Mission reports on my desk by the end of tomorrow.” He stared at them once more before turning on his heel and stalking off to claim whatever credit he could for the couple in handcuffs that were currently being escorted from the hotel.

“Honestly, I’m not sure how keep pulling it off either.” Eva laughed as she waved to Samantha Barclay.

“Like I said, Agent Green…” Napoleon smiled as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and place it across her bare shoulders. “…excellent pairing.”

They shared a smile as she slipped her arms through the huge sleeves now encasing her.

“That looks nasty.” She said as she rose onto her tiptoes to inspect the slash across his jaw that was still dribbling blood.

“I’m fi-”

He cut himself off as her hand clamped around his arm and began dragging him towards the waiting medic. As he was forced into a chair he watched the woman as she argued with the medic until a damp cloth was handed to her and she began to clean the dried blood from his face.

“If they’d told me you were a fusser, I might not have agreed to partner you.”

“Agreed to partner with me?” She asked, disbelief filling her voice. “I believe, Agent Solo, that I was the one the CIA needed to convince.”

“You say Pot-ay-to…” His smirk turned into a wince as she pressed down on one of the many cuts littering his face.

He was quiet as she gently wiped away all evidence of the beating he had taken only hours. He watched her from the corners of his eyes and tried not to smile as she kept pulling the blazer back onto her shoulder as it slipped down. He felt his heart swell at the look of concentration on her face as she swapped the cloth for a new one and tried to stem the bleeding from particularly insistent cut, when was the last time anyone had taken the time to patch him up post mission? He couldn’t remember it ever happening until the stubborn Brit had strutted into his life.

“I didn’t listen to you.”

“When do you ever?” Her laughter stopped as he reached up to still her hands from their mission of ridding his face of blood. “Napoleon, what’s the matter?”

“I didn’t listen to you and then put you in danger.” He told her as he rose to stand before her.

“That’s the job, Napoleon.” She reminded him, stepping forward to intertwine their fingers again. “But if I’m going to be in danger with anyone…I’d rather it be the man with a knife for a cufflink.” She smiled as she lifted their hands to show him the remaining cufflink.

There was a moment of silence between them as the business of the CIA clearing the street of bystanders and the hotel manager trying to calm remaining guests back into the building, began to fade. Napoleon could almost feel the change in the air around them as the situation they had found themselves in became apparent. He watched as she swallowed nervously before her eyes flickered back up to his and then, he knew what he had to do.

His hands slid from her grasp and skimmed the air for only a second before they came to rest on her waist, the slicing of the sequinned material of her dress forgotten as he pulled her the tiniest bit closer.

He closed the gap with a dip of his head and finally, he kissed her. She responded immediately, her one hand cupping the underside of his jaw as the other bunched the material of his shirt in her fist.

“I have to call my boss.” That was the first, breathless thing she told him as they parted. “He’s been trying to get hold of me all day.”

“Of course.” He told her, noting rather smugly that she was yet to let him go. “You should definitely do that.”

“I will…” There was another pause between them as her eyes flickered to his lips. “…later.”