#and when I defeated my first beast I was in the backseat of the car and I started shouting

[caracolcondiarrea]

I just know my 8-year-old self would be so proud of how I arranged a bookshelf to make 4 shelves full of The Legend of Zelda things.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Two: Sapphire (Ignis x Reader) Chapter VII

At the Alstor Coernix Station, (Y/n) was inside the convenience store perusing the many items they had for sale. Ignis has entrusted her with enough gil to buy them some curatives. Their supply was low and needed to be restocked. Glancing out the window of the convenience store, she saw Ignis putting gas in the Regalia while Noctis was chatting on the phone. Prompto and Gladio were eavesdropping on the phone call.

Looking back to the items in stock, she searched the shelves for Ignis' favorite canned coffee-ebony. What caught her attention was a small sign taped to one of the shelves.

*****

Due to road closures, we are SOLD OUT of Ebony Coffee for the foreseeable future.

*****

"Uh-oh..." she mumbled.

"What's "uh-oh"?" Noctis asked as he overheard her when entering the store with Gladio and Prompto in tow. She stepped aside and allowed him to read the sign for himself. His eyes widen and nearly popped out of his head as he read the small piece of paper. "Oh, crap. They're out."

Gladio shook his head in disapproval. "Can't let him see this."

"He'd be crushed." The prince glanced outside to see Ignis finished filling the gas tank and was heading their way. "Shit, he's coming this way."

"What do we do?" Prompto asked panically.

"Nothing," (Y/n) replied. "Iggy will be fine without his ebony for a few days."

"Weren't you the one who said, "uh-oh"?" Noctis asked.

"I was, but it's not the end of the world."

"For you it might not be, but for us..."

"Mama Iggy gets cranky when he hasn't had his ebony," Prompto added. "And he gets really irritated in battle if we don't listen to him."

She crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure he gets irritated not because of the lack of ebony but the lack of listening you three do in battle."

"Damn, no need to call us out like that," Gladio chuckled.

"Still, Specs isn't gonna like being out of ebony." Noctis looked at the (h/c)-haired girl. "You tell him the bad news, (Y/n). The rest of us will try to get a running start to avoid him. And if you survive, we'll come back for you."

She sighed. "Iggy's not gonna lose his mind and go on a rampage because they're out of ebony! And why do I have to tell him?!"

"He is waaay nicer to you than the rest of us," Prompto responded. "If it comes from you, it'll cushion the blow! You make him...gentle."

"What are you talking about?"

"Listen, Iggy's got a soft spot for ya," Gladio told the petite girl, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We all can see the way he looks at you, but it looks like you're the only one who can't see it. Sorry to say this, but you're a little dense, sweetheart."

(Y/n)'s eyes narrowed in an icy glare. Her jaw tensed as her slitted eyes focused on the shield. She clenched her fists tightly by her side as her gaze bore into his amber eyes. She watched in anger and satisfaction as Gladio released her shoulder and stepped away from her out of fear. He swallowed in fright when feeling a chill creep through his body. He held up his hands in defeat. "Now hold on a sec, (Y/n)..."

Prompto and Noctis rubbed at their exposed arms, fighting off the chill in the air. They stepped away from (Y/n), their teeth chattering slightly. The two best friends exchanged glances before looking back at the angered guardian. They were too frightened to say anything and kept their mouths shut. Without saying a word, she walked out of the convenience store.

Ignis, who had just entered the store, saw her furious expression and looked towards his friends. "It seems one of you has infuriated (Y/n)."

Noctis and Prompto jabbed their fingers in Gladio's direction and said, "He did it," in unison.

"Shit..." The brute mumbled, eyes focused on the girl who was now outside. "Thought she was gonna tear me into tiny pieces."

"Dude, you called her dense. Don't you think it was a little rude and insensitive?" Prompto asked. "I mean, I would be pissed off too."

"What could possibly insinuate her to be "dense," Gladio?" Ignis pried.

"Oh, please," the brute scoffed. "Don't tell me you're unaware of how differently you treat her from the rest of us? Or the way you look at her? That'd make you dense too, Iggy. Probably even more than her. Do you realize how often I've caught you staring at her when she isn't looking in the last two days?"

Ignis didn't know how to respond. He was aware of his own infatuation with (Y/n), but he never realized how often his gaze would drift in her direction. He must've been doing it more than he noticed in the past two days.

"What? You've got nothing to say?" Gladio retorted after seeing Ignis fell silent.

"Is there a response you're wishing to hear?" Ignis replied.

"Just tryna see if our straight-laced tactician really does have a heart and actually can fall for a woman."

The bespectacled man pinched the bridge of his nose. He decided not to entertain Gladio any longer and left the convenience store. Outside, he found (Y/n) near the Crow's Nest, her attention focused on a wanted poster of a behemoth that was causing trouble in the Nebulawood. The reward was large and tempting for any hunter that was eager to test their strength and earn a pretty gil.

Ignis joined her and analyzed the poster. "Tis a feat fit for royalty."

"Aren't you the one who said to keep the trouble to a minimum?" She asked. "I'm pretty sure a behemoth is a large serving of trouble."

"The large sum of gil is not tempting enough?" He asked.

"I'd rather not be skewered by a behemoth even for a large amount of gil."

"A shame, truly."

She snorted with laughter. "Since when are you the reckless one?"

"I am the most cautious of us all," he remarked. "Regardless, we are in dire need of funds and such a tremendous feat would fill our purses."

"You really think the five of us could take down a behemoth?"

"I believe with our combined skills the beast would still be a formidable foe but one we could eliminate."

(Y/n) looked back at the wanted poster. "You certainly have confidence in our skills, Iggy. Maybe too much..."

"Or perhaps you lack the confidence in our combined strength as a group," Ignis stated, peeking at her from his peripheral vision.

She placed a hand over her chest. "Ouch... That one hurt." She then smiled. "I actually believe we could handle anything that comes our way if we stick together, but even a behemoth could cause issues. And it's not like I'm some large, mighty spirit that could match the size of such an immense beast."

""And though she be but little, she is fierce,"" the advisor quoted. "Such a quote describes your spiritual form well."

"Tiny but mighty, huh...?" She looked back at the image of the behemoth. "Still, we might be biting off more than we can chew with such a large target."

"As per words provided by Noct: only one way to find out."

She laughed. "Yes. His carefree nature truly does suit him well. Let's just hope his carelessness doesn't get him or anyone else killed..."

"Which is why we are accompanying him-to prevent such calamity."

Just then, the two heard a familiar 'click'. When they turned around, they saw Prompto with his camera aimed at them. He lowered the device and smiled innocently with slightly red cheeks. "Just takin' some sweet pics. Don't mind me!"

"Are we ready to depart?" Ignis asked.

"Yep! We're going to the chocobo outpost first, right?" He remarked with eyes glistening in excitement.

"It's up to Noct."

"What's at the chocobo outpost for us to do?" (Y/n) wondered.

"Chocobos!" Prompto squealed. "What else?"

"Don't we have royal arms to find?"

"Well, yeah, but this'll be a quick detour! Once we've ridden the chocobos, we can go back to searching for the tombs. And, of course, see Iris in Lestallum."

The girl sighed in relief. "I'm glad to hear she's safe."

"Me too. Guess we forgot to mention the phone call to you." Prompto lowered his camera. "Now then, let's go!"

Ignis and (Y/n) exchanged glances before returning to the Regalia. The three other boys were already in the backseat, waiting for them. The girl climbed into the passenger's seat and peered over middle console at the blonde in the backseat. "Maybe I should sit in the middle seat, Prompto."

"And let you be squished by these two?" He pointed to Gladio and Noctis. "No way!"

The shield wrapped an arm around Prompto's neck and used his other hand to drive his knuckles into the top of the boy's head. "You sure 'bout that, pipsqueak?"

Prompto struggled against the brute. "H-Hey, you're messing up my hair!"

Ignis started the car and pulled out of the Alstor Coernix Station. At Noctis' command, he drove in the opposite direction of Lestallum and headed to Wiz Chocobo Post. Prompto was able to break free from Gladio and giddily bounced up and down in the backseat. His excitement only escalated as the distance between them and the chocobo outpost shrunk.

The moment Ignis pulled the Regalia into Wiz Chocobo Post, Prompto climbed over Noctis. His excitement caused him to move faster, but he tripped on his own feet as he climbed out of the car. He quickly recovered and ran over to the empty pens.

Noctis readjusted his jacket from where he was trampled by Prompto before exiting the vehicle. Gladio closed the door behind him as did Ignis and (Y/n). She leaned against the car and looked around the outpost. "For a place with chocobos, it's eerily quiet."

"Think this side trip was for nothing?" Gladio asked.

"Best we find the owner of the establishment before drawing any conclusions," Ignis said.

(Y/n) wandered around the chocobo outpost while the boys spoke with the owner, Wiz. She browsed through what the store was offering before departing with a smile. She continued walking around until she was stopped by a large chocobo chick. It pecked at the heels of her shoes before rubbing its feathery body against her legs. Her brows furrowed in confusion as to why it was acting somewhat like a cat. Squatting down, she hugged her knees and poked the top of the chick's head. It 'kwehed' in response, fluffing out its feathers.

Smiling, she petted the top of its head. She had only seen pictures of chocobos and was flabbergasted at the size of the chicks. "You are one big chick, but adorable. And your feathers are soft." The chocobo chick bumped its plump body against her legs and caused her to lose her balance. She fell on her hindquarters and blinked in surprise when the chocobo chick hopped onto her lap. It flapped its tiny wings with another 'kweh' before nuzzling its head against her stomach. "Guess I have to add friendly and cuddly to the list."

While petting the chocobo chick that was curled up in her lap, she spotted movement from the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw three more chicks heading straight for her. Their chubby bodies bounced as they trotted towards her. Even a few loose feathers were knocked free and sent spiraling in the faint breeze that blew through the outpost.

The three chicks reached (Y/n) and tried to join their sibling. However, there was only enough room for one chocobo in her lap. The other three opted to snuggle their bodies against her sides and back before taking a nap. The girl sighed through her nose when seeing the predicament she was in. "What do I do now...?"

"Oh. Em. Gee!" A voice squealed. The spirit looked up and saw Prompto with his camera aimed at her. Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis were standing behind the blonde as he took pictures of her. "The chocobos love you, (Y/n)!"

"Where did these guys come from?" Noctis asked the spirit.

"They came out of nowhere and ambushed me," she said, continuing to pet the chocobo chick in her lap. "As you can see, I didn't stand a chance."

Not even a minute later, a woman with a yellow apron ran over. "I'm so sorry about this, miss! The babies escaped their pen. I hope they didn't cause you any trouble."

(Y/n) offered the stablehand a kind smile. "They were no trouble. They're quite friendly."

"They really are," she giggled. "This hasn't been the first time they've escaped. I've tried to come up with ways to stop them, but they're amazing escape artists."

The guardian managed to lift the chubby chick out of her lap so she could stand up. The three other chocobos that were snuggled up against her plopped against the ground when she was back on her feet. The stablehand rounded up the four chicks and escorted them back to their pen. (Y/n) brushed the dirt off her dress and tights before asking, "Did you learn why most of the pens are empty?"

Ignis stepped forward. "Remember our early discussion of the behemoth?"

She froze, eyes widening. "Don't tell me...?"

"It's a beast known to the locals as Deadeye. If we desire to use the chocobos, the behemoth must be dealt with."

Her sapphire eyes drifted over to Noctis. "Let me guess, you took the hunt."

"Yeah. Is...that a problem?" The prince questioned.

"Not at all. Just try not to get you or anyone else killed."

Noctis' opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. "Wha-? I..."

"You are audacious in battle, Noct," Ignis stated. "Which, mind you, has resulted in the injury of others."

"I am not that reckless," Noctis tried to defend himself.

"Sorry, buddy, but I've gotta side with Iggy and (Y/n) on this one," Prompto said. "You kinda are reckless in battle."

"So are you, blondie," Gladio remarked. "The only ones here who aren't reckless are myself, Iggy, and (Y/n). You two would be skewered meat if it weren't for the three of us watchin' your backs. Maybe you kids should leave the beast slaying to the grown-ups and stay here to play with the birds."

"We aren't kids!" Prompto screeched.

Noctis nodded. "Yeah!"

"Then prove it," Gladio shoves past the two younger boys. "Let's go take down a behemoth."

Noctis and Prompto dashed off with Gladio following close behind. (Y/n) clasped her hands together in front of her as she watched the three take off. "Gladio sure does love to egg those two on."

"Speaking of eggs, I do believe a scavenge for ingredients is in order once we've dealt with the behemoth," Ignis said.

The girl glanced at him in disbelief before laughing. "You would think about ingredients at a time like this. I'll see what I can do once we get back. We better catch up with the others. They won't be able to take down Deadeye without us."

"Yes, let's. Our assistance is always invaluable."

Ignis and (Y/n) left the chocobo outpost and caught up with Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio. They hadn't made it far down the dirt trail located just on the outskirts of the chocobo ranch when they regrouped with the other boys. They skirted around the Nebulawood in search of the entrance, but froze when the sound of snapping trees came from within the stone walls. The ground shook slightly with each tree that fell. It was like a domino effect where one tree would fall and then it would immediately be followed by another.

(Y/n) was pulling up the rear of the group when she suddenly heard the voice that had been haunting her ever since they left Insomnia. Stopping, she looked up at the sky and listened closely to the disembodied voice.

Vessel... Costlemark...

Her eyes narrowed in bewilderment. "Costlemark...?"

Ancient... Worship...

"I don't understand," she whispered. Her attention was drawn away from the voice when the sound of a threatening growl emitted from the Nebulawood. When it faded, she looked back up at the sky in hopes the voice would speak to her again, but it was silent. She promptly caught up with the boys just as they managed to locate the entrance to the Nebulawood.

Before they took another step forward, (Y/n) questioned the boys. "So this is Deadeye's prowling grounds?"

"That's what Wiz said," Noctis replied. "Why? You worried?"

"Not at all. Just do be careful. We don't need a dead prince on our hands."

"Hey, this'll be a walk in the park for us."

She sighed. "You say that now..."

"Wait 'til we actually face the beast before drawing any conclusions," Gladio finished the girl's thought. "Just try not to be an idiot and get your ass handed to you. We can't always be there to save you from all the trouble you put yourself in."

"Okay, I get it," Noctis groaned. "I'm reckless. Damn, you guys never learn how to drop anything..."

"We're simply here to watch your back, Noct," Ignis stated.

"Not to babysit you," Gladio added.

The prince threw his head back with another dramatic groan. He wanted to drop the subject and did so by ignoring his companions and entering the Nebulawood whether they were with him or not. Once a little ways into the rocky, windy structure of Deadeye's prowling grounds, he slowed his pace as he followed the path forward. They were surrounded by downed trees, possibly the ones they heard snapping earlier. From the damage done to the trees, it appeared something large had struck them down.

(Y/n) approached one of the fallen trees, her nose scrunching up when receiving a whiff of something that smelt awful. Gladio noticed her slightly disgusted expression. "What's up, munchkin?"

Ignoring the nickname, she responded with, "I've never encountered a behemoth before, but beasts and daemons all have distinctive odors. From the scent, I'm going to assume Deadeye caused all this damage."

"Behemoths have been known to stroke their bodies against trees and other structures to mark their territory, leaving their natural musk as a warning to other creatures," Ignis informed the group.

"Oh, nice to know," Prompto mumbled.

"Behemoths are territorial beasts. If we're not careful, none of us are coming out of this unscathed. We need to be extra careful in this area, especially since Deadeye has marked his territory," (Y/n) said.

Noctis rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess this isn't gonna be a walk in the park..."

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[thetorturerwrites]

I’m so excited for Torturer Tuesday’s to resume! I’ve missed you!!! I’d like to please request some hot Flip Zimmerman action!!! Hickies/bruises/marking kink (maybe he likes being marked up too!), possessiveness, being manhandled. I just want to be mauled by that sexy motherfucker! Thank you 🖤

+ Anonymous said to thetorturerwrites:Trying to channel my heathen, I’d love to have some animalistic smut with Flip, please! I just want to have him chase me down, grab me and pick me up, and manhandle the fuck out of me before he fucks me like a wild ravaging beast. Bruises, hickies, scratches, falling off whatever you’re fucking on lol. Maybe him getting extra wound up when you start clawing him. Just some aggressive sexy fun! It’s all good. I love everything you write! Thank you!! :)

***

You were, without a doubt, 100%, royally fucked.

Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong damn car to hot-wire.

It was more than the gun jammed into your head, more than the gruff, irritated voice commanding you to climb out with your hands up. Your fear came from the fact that he was a goddamn beast of a man — broad shoulders, taller than you by more than a little, and wide as a linebacker.  And he was a cop.

Fucking shit ass no good vulture cop.

In less than a minute, he’d stuffed a bandanna in your mouth, latched on the handcuffs, and shoved you into the backseat. You screamed, kicked, and flailed. You balled up both fists and aimed for his face, but it was ridiculously pointless. He growled, caught your ankle in one hand and ....

Darkness.

Groggy, you groaned and tried to touch the unidentifiable throb at your face, but you only smacked yourself in the mouth with the steel bracelet. Pushing up to sit, you shook off some dizziness and found yourself face to face with a crouching, irritated, dangerous predator. An unmoving predator. One who was waiting for you to wake up.

Rising absurdly fast, he kicked you square in the chest, sending you flailing back on a choking sputter. He dug the heel of his boot into your belly and ripped at your clothes. He threw away your shoes and leaned his weight against you to shuck your holey jeans. You pushed and clawed at his boot, thrashed and tried to wiggle away before he could get at your panties, but it only earned you a fist in your tangled hair and a howl of pain as he pulled tight.

Hauled onto bare feet, you pushed at his chest, turning and bending to get loose.

“This is your chance to be good.” He murmured and pulled you in so close you could smell his cologne. “If you are, I’ll take you to the station to do the right thing.” 

“Your plan is to kidnap me? Teach me a lesson?” You pushed at him again, but he was an unshakeable column. “Take me to the damn station then! I’ll tell them I tried to boost your idiot truck.”

“Oh, I will. But first...” Holding you around the throat with one hand, he ripped your light tee and tossed the tatters over his shoulder. “You, your smart ass mouth, and your fucking hands are gonna work tonight.”

Your eyes widened, large as moons. Your mouth popped open in outright shock as the man all but admitted he planned to rape you. He traced the swell of your lower lip as you worked it out; but then, you got your shit together, jammed your elbow into his gut, and bit the hand that teased you.

“I’ll rot first.”

His lopsided grin terrified you, as did the way he canted his head to one side, as though your pretend bravado entertained him. He knew it was bullshit. Lifting one of those massive paws, he shooed you back.

“We’ll see.” He gestured to the tree line, and you blanched. “Go on. I’ll be along shortly.”

The flash of his pistol lit a fire under your ass, and you bolted.

You ran until your chest burned, until your sides needled and your throat caught, dry as a bone. Gulping down frigid air, you wrapped bare arms around a bare middle, turning in an idiotic circle as you tried to get some bearings.  There was no clear path here. There also wasn’t a house, a streetlight, or even a clearing big enough for the moon to shine all the way through.

A gunshot rang out to your left, far too close for him to be back at the vehicle, and you launched yourself in the opposite direction. You fought through brambles, through branches and wet leaves, through dirt and cold mud. You pushed and pushed; but far too soon, your sprint faded to a stumbling jog. Your arms hung heavy, useless in defending you when you tripped on an overgrown root.

You crashed to the ground on a whine, but you barely had time to right yourself before he was on you. Unforgiving arms wrapped around your ribs, squeezing out your breath. He pinned you there in the dirt, shoved his face into the crook of your neck, and bit down so hard you saw stars. The hoarse wail that ripped from your throat rattled your bones.

You didn’t know you could make such a wounded sound.

When he released you, you slumped to the hard ground, wallowing in the grime miserably. The click of his gun foretold the shot, but you couldn’t respond. You trembled, locked between swallowing fear and consuming anger. The look you leveled at him was defiant, but warily so. He was going to fuck you or kill you tonight; it was clear. Maybe both.

The first shot didn’t jar you into movement fast enough. It rang in your ears, but you curled into a ball instead of leaping to your feet.

“Get your ass up.” 

The next shot exploded just to the right of your head, breaking through your fog. You leaped up once more as the unpleasant echo turned to a loud warble reverberating down through your jaw. As hard as you tried to fight it, panic won out and sent hot tears spilling over your dirty cheeks, painting you with grimy streaks.

You stumbled blindly forward until you could no longer feel your fingers or your toes. You pulled yourself from tree to tree on bloodied fingertips, but your feet felt like cinder blocks — too large and bulky to be useful. You mashed swollen, cracked lips together and tried to get your breathing under control. Your throat stung like broken glass from all the screaming and crying.

Thinking you had to do something other than run, you wedged yourself in between two stumps and made yourself as small as you physically could. You ignored the jab of prickly leaves and prayed to gods you didn’t believe in that this man would get bored with chasing you and leave you here. You’d never steal another thing in your life if you made it through the night.

Fool’s prayers.

He yanked you out of your hiding place so hard you crashed into him on a surprised yelp. Benumbed, you palmed his pectorals, trying to inch away, but the cold made you weak, easy prey. Each anxious breath sent steam curling up and around his face as you shook your head over and over, as though you could deal with the devil on empty pockets.

You quaked all over, trembling fear turned to the beginnings of hypothermia. He spun you, forced your face into scratchy bark, and slid up behind you. For all your earlier boasting about how you’d rather die than fuck him, you groaned aloud at the feel of his chest against your back because he was blessedly warm. His feverish hands roamed you from thighs to ribs, and you wondered if it truly would be that bad.

“Nothing smart to say? Hm? Thought you were hot shit?”

You sneered, jolted from a reverie where you pictured him pounding you into oblivion. You readied yourself to spit something snarky at him, but he cupped both of your aching breasts, pressing in so they spilled over his palms. Instead of swearing, you moaned louder than you wanted because the heat was deliriously good. You lost feeling in your nipples a while ago, but he coaxed it back by kneading and squeezing.

The chattering of your teeth eased slightly, along with the outright tremors. He infused you with just enough warmth to keep you from collapsing, but he wanted more. His petting turned to mauling, and he gouged tracks down your sternum and up from your abdomen. You cried out and twisted, but he trapped you with a snarl and a vicious bite to your upper arm. He sucked a bruise into your skin so painfully you thought you could feel him chomping on the bone.

The next thing you felt was the press of his belly against your ass, and you knew his jeans were already open. You flushed and panted, but no longer from the cold. Sighing, partially in defeat, partially in anticipation, you laid your head back against his shoulder. His entire body was a furnace, a heat source you needed more than your dignity.

“Look at that.” He rocked his hips against yours, nipping at the bruise blooming along your neck. “A thief and a whore.”

[borkthemork]

Nightly Escapade (A Messy Drive Date Connverse Fic)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General

Words: 5,158

Pairings: Steven/Connie (Connverse)

Summary: Movies are perfect. What's not to like about them? They're stories told on the big screen, they could leave you shaking from the flood works or clammy from the explosions and ticking timers, and, most importantly, it's the best plan if two lovers ever wanted to go on a date. For Connie and Steven: planning a movie date was easy, there's nothing better than preparing a good ole' car of refreshments for a long drive, but executing it (without it going wrong) was another thing entirely.

Reblogs are appreciated!

He should've gotten them sooner.

One could retort that he only heard of the movie details today, but he felt guilty regardless when he eyed the lack of vacancy when he tried to apply his—newly gained—credit card to it. It was a one-in-a-million (or was it a billion? He'd have to ask Connie later) experience, and since his jam bud now had access to PG-13 movies just like he did, they thought it would be a great time to start something. An adventure. Or was it a date? A cool date adventure!

…

Dateventure!

Hahaha, he was a genius!

When she arrived at his house—naïve to the idea being dashed to shreds—he told her of the lack of tickets, feeling the crummy jumble of his heart with each shift in expression Connie had. She was looking forward to this film; she would rant and rave about Ghibli films like they were cinematic masterpieces, leaving him confused but intrigued. He never touched a Ghibli film before, so it was a beginning bout of interest that made him ask what was so special about them in the first place.

"You don't understand," she lamented when asking days prior, "Princess Mononoke was way ahead with its themes and dynamics regarding nature and humans. I would trade my own hands—not really since I need them—to see it on the big screen! To see it on any type of high-definition!"

Who knew Delmarva starved for this kind of content? Well, he should've recognized this when Ronaldo brigaded him with film advice but he never really took those consolations in a serious light. Even if he did, he still would've been short of time.

Now they’re here: Connie pacing in his room under the beating weather; fingers on her chin, her shoes clicking on the floorboards with hardened focus. "Well, we could see another movie since it's not that big of a deal."

Steven was fumbling with the wrinkles of his bedsheets, the screen of his laptop closed in a subtle defeat. The guilt fettering his torso. "I'm sorry, Connie. I know that you really wanted to see it."

"Hey, it's all right." She smiled at him. "Even if we can't see the movie, why not just go on the date, anyway?"

She stumbled with the word when it came down to it, shooting him an awkward glance. His stomach was bound in a knot; this was the first time they ever mentioned it out loud.

"Yeah!" He piped up, cheeks flushed in heat. "Nothing can stop us, we're jam buds after all!"

A petal-soft laugh. "Jam buds 'til the very end."

With that, they got started. The problem with planning—and the advantage of their duo—came down to the many ideas flung around the room like paper balls in the occurring scuffle for supplies. Steven would suggest something and then Connie would add to it—flinging it back to Steven and then back to her—until the ideas they've manifested became more like snowballs the size of boulders. So the tiny notion of a movie date transformed into a nightly car date, the dondai befitting blankets, a radio, a grocery bag of snacks, and other accoutrements such as the medkit bunched in the back. When asked about it, Connie remarked with a simple, albeit embarrassed, "better safe than sorry" as they listed off their roster.

"So, let's get this plan straightened out one more time," she announced in the car, Steven saddling up his seatbelt and fiddling with the ignition. "We're only following the routes near the coastline. I have some money we could use if we ever run out of gas cans. If we see an ice cream stand, we're definitely stopping for it. And—"

"We'll drive to Viewover Point so we can watch Unfamiliar Familiar at the drive-in," he concluded, churning out a carnie accent. "Now in 3-D with a limited purchase of Archimicarus and Lisa chibi plushies for only nine ninety-five!"

She laughed. "Correct! And we'll buy ten of them, five for you and five for me."

"What about fifteen?"

"Twenty?"

"Thirty!"

"Fifty!"

Both of them exploded into giggles, Connie playfully smacking with his shoulder. "Just drive!"

The engine growled to life. With the sun still perched in the sky, the two of them drove off with a rumbling trail of radio music and road-crunched gravel, not a single worry in mind; just two best friends against the long-winding asphalt lines.

-----

There’s a thing Steven had to learn the first time he began his traverse into the world of semi-adulthood: that driving had a few loopholes that society was okay with trespassing into. In one particular memory, he attempted and went with the minimum speed range in Ocean Town—following the procedures, being loyal to the rules for the sake of being a good Samaritan—only for a cop car to drive alongside his window to force himself to speed up, whose eyebrow quirked in irritation. Apparently, the road he occupied was one lane, and the townies (ranging from a mile long) behind him weren’t happy about it.

He tried to laugh it off, brush it off like it was sand peppering his shoulders, but Connie was with him when it happened. She never let him down for it. Ever.

And that’s what lead to them bolting past the Beach City safety limits, windows popped open—gushing them with the wind—as the two hollered over the Mike Krol ratatat’ing their space. Overall, he’d like to thank Beach Town for this valuable lesson. He’ll never forget it.

“What if I told you that the world was gonna end!” Connie held an unopened granola bar, singing into it as Steven did a clean turn, the tail of their car following the drift in consecutive ease; the windows displayed to the right reflecting sheens of the calm ocean, skies bearing unrestrained galaxies from light-years away.

She directed the granola towards him, who yelled out in glee, “and you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends!?”

“I guess we don’t even need to use the phone!”

“I don’t need your answer, I’ll be spending it alone!”

Cue the dance break. Connie did a little jig in her seat as he rocked his head to the remainder of the rhythm, heart battling in his chest, hoping that his attentiveness could keep them alive at the presence of the cliff that loomed to the right of them. Their laughter was of pure delight, wild and untamed, the childlike initiative riling them like cinders.

At the introduction of the woods behind an impending crossroads, he made a left turn, cutting into the Delmarva wood.

“Wait, that’s the wrong way!” Connie said.

“What!” He tried to turn it around but it was too late. The car clipped from the road, leading them scrambling in a quaking mess, the vehicle gatling its way into the unknown, into the webs of branches and darkness.

Ears pounding with the tremors.

The violent shudders.

Dissonant heaves.

And groans.

It then stopped. A warmth enveloped them in a luster of pink, the car remaining still as the creaks of its metal came to a halt. He looked over to Connie, easing his heart when he saw that she looked fine. Disoriented, confused, but fine. The windows were crowded by brambles, of hardwood needles, trickles of murk peaking in between.

He groaned, rubbing his head. The dizziness settled down. "Strawberry, you okay?"

"Roger that, biscuit." She unclipped her belt, heaving out breaths as the two of them calmed their frazzled senses, inspecting the enclosed space around them with unease. They were settled in the belly of a mechanical beast, brittle with cracked glass and wretched frame, the outside covered in dimly lit brush. "That was a close call though. The air bags didn't even work."

"Either that or my bubble’s forcing it down." He considered the sturdy barrier. It wasn't a bubble, looked more of a compartment that twitched and receded when they moved too much in the limited spacing, glowing its familiar hues and glint. He needed to meddle with this later. "We should get out though."

A brief nod. "Agreed."

He didn't know how long it took. All he could focus on was the buzz in his ears and the careful work he did to keep the bubble (morphing and melding to his command) under control as they crept out by the backseats; courtesy of Connie, who didn’t hesitate to pierce one of his windows with the medkit when the doors didn’t budge.

In the final shimmy, the two of them plopped onto an unsteady incline of dirt—the bubble dissipating—keeping hold of one another until the pathway below them cleared to unrooted ground. Glancing through the canopy overhead, Steven thought of it as a giant colander; how the moon pouring into his sights a few moments ago was now trying its best to sneak past the floral arms, to catch him even while shrouded in cold.

"Okay," Steven felt Connie's hand wrap around his, easing up as she started to move, his eyes trying his best to follow her outlines. She pointed to a mess of lights opposite the car, meshed with the silhouettes of broken-limbed shrubbery. "We came from there. Let's try to get some cell service, that way we can get a tow truck to our location and the dondai."

"Oh, man." Steven looked back at his car, a wheeze in his throat. "Yeah, we definitely need a truck because the car's donedai!"

Nothing but an awkward chuckle. "Stay focused, Steven. Let's go."

The woods were thick with underbrush. Portions coddled them in aggravating clumps, having them push and shove their way through. A good thing about Steven, however, was that they ignored this with a snap of his bubble, hamster rolling their way out through the elongated tunnel they burrowed through the brier. He would minimize it when the arching leaves and branches were too stubborn to part, and sometimes the spikes protruded from them like machetes, ready to press and nip them into splinters.

"How far did we drive in?" Connie mumbled after a few minutes passed. Leaves nested themselves in her hair, the scuffs on her arms still muddied from their vehicular escape. In all honesty, it reminded him of earlier days, where they wandered the Delmarva wood with nothing big to solve, their imagination pulling their way to the next great exploit. "It looks like we’ve gotten way off the mark."

He winced. “Don’t worry, we’ll be okay.”

“Steven, are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” He told her. “I’m just pining for a way out, you know? We’ll be fine in no time.”

“Steven, we've been at it for five minutes.”

"If that’s the case we're in a sticky situation then," Steven said, letting out a high-strung chuckle. "If I just took the right turn, we woodn't be here."

She halted in her tracks—the boy tripping from the stop, saving himself before he slammed into the bubble. "Steven, tell me."

"Hm?" He looked over, scrambling straight. "Why d'you stop?"

"Something's on your mind," she said. "And we'll not take another step until you spill the beans."

"Well, the beans are back in the trunk."

"Steven!"

He jumped. "Okay, okay! Sorry, I won't joke about beans anymore."

"That's not what I'm talking about here." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, fatigue on her lips. "Something's bugging you; I don't want to make any assumptions so you need to be honest with me." Her countenance softened, Steven bristling at the slight squeeze of his hand. "Please."

He wasn't the kind to turn the other way, especially with the plaguing memory of separation that tailed him ever since he lied to her two years ago. A promise was a promise, a solid bond of trust he’d never wanted to break, and even if the anxiety toiled and fought against him, he couldn't help but be reassured that Connie would still be there regardless. She was his jam bud. His confidant when the times oozed by. One of the few people he could open up to in a clear fashion. What was he afraid of? Nothing, hopefully.

He released a sigh—ladened, heavy-like. "I don't know, I just feel like such a dunce sometimes."

She knitted her eyebrows. With a swift beckon of her hand they sat down, still enraptured in rose pink; words soft, gesturing him forward. "And?"

"We were having such an amazing time," he crossed his legs, not helping the lean for warmth as she pulled him towards her, the thump of her pulse meeting with his own, "and we had these plans, these amazing plans, but I was able to ruin it in a single minute because I didn't follow the route." A scoff. "A new world record. It makes me wonder why I deserve you sometimes if I could mess up something simple like a dateventure."

"Hey, now!" They held contact, her voice stern. A shudder overcame him, feeling the slivers of grit in the way she spoke. "That's not true. Trust me when I say this: you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I'll not let your self-doubt believe anything else. You messed nothing up, I’m serious about that."

"But the tickets."

"They were out before we even checked on them."

"The dondai."

"We'll find a shop that'll fix it up."

"But what about Viewover Point?"

"From what I've heard the reviews weren't that good." She shrugged, fingers weaving through his chocolate curls, careful and diligent, each press to his scalp making his lids heavy. "And I wasn't gonna enjoy the movie anyway if you weren't there to have fun with me."

“So, you’re not mad.”

“I could get mad,” Connie murmured, “but what’s there to be mad about? We’ve been through worse stuff than this, way worse, nothing will make me full-on angry with you, period. You’re important to me, and I’d rather fix our messes than leave someone else to fix it for us.”

The dance of her fingertips made him hum, clouded, lifted elsewhere to a softer portion of his mind; he wondered if Connie always had this effect on people, to calm them with the rationality and pin-point affection that they needed? Or maybe it was just him who felt that way? Maybe he cared too much? Perhaps...it was enough.

He allowed himself to breathe—in and out—until the tension in his shoulders melted to nothing; heaviness still resided, but everything appeared more comprehensible now, less complicated than what he described in his brain. With it came an idea. A goal. Something to accomplish. He affixed her a look. "When we find some wifi, would you like to stargaze with me?"

She chuckled. "Why wouldn't I, you dork?"

"I just wanted to ask." He stood up from his place, inviting her with an outstretched hand. She reciprocated, comfort collecting in his palms. "Because if we’re going to make the most of it, we might as well enjoy each other’s company."

Her hand tightened on his, thumb brushing down on his knuckles. “An adventure then.”

Steven nodded, beaming of joy—heart rattling in his chest. “A dateventure.”

“Fine.” She snorted, motioning them forward, the light at the end growing to the size of a faint firefly. “A dateventure.”

Their trek was masked in the brilliance of pink, holding on to the other as the illumination in front of them grew to the size of golf balls—relieved that the bubble saved them from bumbling ceaselessly in the dark. With their advancement, they went faster. Each spike pierced the natural fetters, leaving Steven in a fit of elation when they pushed through, their barrier popping at the final trudge.

The floor was a mess of tickling thicket. He giggled at the brambles, dirt crawled up into the niches of his jacket. Connie was beside him, stretching her legs as she stood up, noticeable in the newly acquired light.

The environment returned to quiet solitude. Steven gave it a mindful gaze: in front of him were the dug-in trenches left from the remainders of the dondai's wheel tracks, each recess printed with its cross-cross and trailing-black smears; the moon brought itself past the covering of shaded evergreen like an angel, leaving them doused in glare; the road was discernible against the earth, cracked and marked with fading yellow lines, making him wonder how deep the direction would've gone if he kept course.

Connie ushered them to walk.

The trek emulated his reveries. Calls of the night sang to them in a cacophony of rustles, hoots, and night creature scuttles; Connie, in her rousing, stopped at certain points to name plants and animals that festered around them, easy to find when she raced off to examine a retreating mammal or lizard.

"That is an owl, of course." She noted the furry-cocoon from a faraway tree, who, if one faltered their blinking, shot them split-second glances with worn yellow specs. "Probably a great-horned owl; look at the tufts on its head!"

Steven squinted. Above the brow, the bird adorned furry wisps, reminiscent of a character from Connie's favorite series. "Wow! How did you know?"

"I had a book about Delmarva geography before. I sold it since I didn’t have much use for it when I finished, but I'm surprised it came in handy now."

He pointed over to the trees. "Then what are those?"

She rubbed her chin. "If I could recall, they’re sweet gum trees...or maybe black gum. I don't remember the difference between them," she admitted.

"That's cool, though." He told her, surveying the wildlife, a wonder pooling on his own. "How come we never do nature walks? It's so peaceful here." Even if the shadows lingered, he emitted of pleasure, the crave of curiosity like a boy first exposed to something new. This was one of the few times where he didn't feel like he was about to perish under some forsaken weight; the concept of having himself run around in terror or disgruntlement long over.

“We just never had the time to. With the two years you’ve been busy and my space camp involvement, the prospect of it never hit me,” she nudged him, a zephyr trailing past them. “But it wouldn’t be too late to start now.”

He grinned. “You see any hills, captain?”

A tilt of her head. Then a pointed finger to a far off ascent. “There!”

“Race you there!” Without hesitation, Steven broke off into a sprint.

Connie, in a fit of snickers, darted after him with an undignified yell.

Fast-smeared colors. Blur of the tenebrous. The rush of one’s ears, laughing in bounding race, lighting the sky with ardor. Fireworks—music—bursting with each spring and skip, Steven crying out in gaiety. Pain and guilt weren’t his master, for he took the reins of the woodlands and made them his own; satisfaction kindling his heart to the size of a bonfire.

When he stopped he took his time gulping down air, throat blazing with invisible fire. He couldn't stop his giggles, the feeling of euphoria that rushed over him like a hyper song; Connie enduring the same, their giddiness flowing to the remains of the land—down below, sprinkling the billowing leaves of their victory.

The ground became their beds, lounging them in verdant cushion as the sky opened up to glowing display. Stars. A cascade of twinkling fires that Steven tried to frame in his hands. Bringing them to his eyes, he examined each one with starry wonderment, Connie whispering to him now and then when he asked a question.

"What about that one?" He directed a finger to the corner of the night sky.

"That’s the Big Dipper."

"And that one?"

"Mmm," she fumbled, clicking her tongue. "Aquarius? It's hard to pinpoint from all the stars—they're so bright you'd think I'm mistaking Orion for something else."

"I don't think that's a problem." He commented, fingers lifting towards the speckles, connecting each one with imaginary twine. "It just means we'll have to work harder to solve the puzzle, and as long as we got each other it shouldn't be that hard."

She released a cool wisp of air from her lips. "You're so sappy, but the sap was definitely needed."

A frown. "What's wrong about being sappy?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," she told him, sincerity leaking through. "You're the sappiest guy I've ever met and...I can't help but adore how loving you are, it just fits you so well.”

"Who, me? I'm just being my wittle self," he cooed, her laugh accompanying it.

"See?" Her hand returned to his, brushed by the moonlit turf. He felt light, the world appearing to slow down with each breath he took, heart bumping like a wave-carried boat. "Who wouldn't love to have someone like you? If I never arrived at Beach City on the day we met, then we wouldn’t even be here. Just enjoying the view."

Joy rose from his chest. "Enjoying you."

"What was that?"

"That, that was a—!" He sputtered.

She burst into laughter, cheeks dark under the light. "Oh my lord!"

"I'm sorry! It just slipped!"

"Steven!"

"I meant that I enjoy your company," his voice was desperate, cracking like a misaligned symphony. He sat up in a panic. "Not like in a weird way, I'm sorry!"

"Steven, Steven!" He went taut; she didn't look mad or grossed out or judgemental. Instead, she was hugging him, keeping him still with each moment that passed—arms returning the gesture in a tight embrace. "It's okay. It's really sweet of you!"

Steven groaned. "But it sounded so weird, I didn't mean to gross you out."

"You didn't." Connie kept him close—fondness pulling on her lips, chuckle carried off into the cool Delmarva breeze. "You're just being yourself."

Steven considered it. Even through his panic he never restrained his smile and the rush of closeness that came with it, he kept put, taking in her proximity. "Did we call a tow truck yet?"

"Oh." They pulled away. Connie rummaged for her phone. "Nope, we still have to do that."

Steven placed himself back onto the ground as she started a conversation on the phone—shadows painting her in a soothing color, moon cradling her figure. Slow and winding, gifting them of a connection that pushed him down to rest. The natural, the dark and hushed, all of his surroundings gestured to a lullaby, massaging him of burdened weight. His eyes drew closed. Exhales lingering, languid in the crisp weather.

A click of the phone resounded. Then a rustle, settling down close to him with a small grunt. Crickets chirped their song, hoots traveling overhead. "I gave them our location. We'll just have to stay put."

"That should be no problem." He stretched out. "We're the masters of it, after all."

A snort. "You’re right."

Listening to the shuffle of grass, Steven added on. "We should plan another one after this."

"Another call?"

"No, I meant the thing we're doing right now."

“The dateventure?” She asked.

“Mhm.”

Hesitancy. "Uhm, I guess."

"Well," Steven flinched at the noticeable lilt in his voice. "If you don't want to do another one, then that's okay."

"No, no," she blurted. "I want to. I'm just thinking about something."

"What are you thinking about?" His gaze still prepped up at the sky, coursing by them in a crawl.

"Just a few questions...about us." The sigh from her left him restless. What about them? "We've always been close, really close. You've noticed it, right?"

A few moments came to mind: movie nights on the weekends, blanket nests sheltering them in watchful rest; boardwalk strides with cotton candy and snow cone mouths, carrying a blue-striped bear won over from a ring toss stand; close talks at sleepovers, imagining the hereafter, breathing in the possibilities they have—which was what they're doing right now as they speak.

"I've noticed."

"It always made me wonder." She started fumbling with her fingers. "Why haven't we started dating sooner?"

"I," a quick exhale, "didn't think it would be such a big deal."

Quiet. The question raised high above their heads, Steven squirming in his place. That was a good question, why didn't he ask her earlier? He never gave it much thought, for the idea seemed unnecessary—they were good enough as is. Nothing stopped their cuddling, nothing stopped their intimate affection when consequences encumbered them above, nothing stopped them when they had their first kiss. The only thing they’re presumably missing was a label. They didn’t need it. They would still be close even without the titles of 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend'. Or 'lovers'. Or even 'jam buds'. The question left was:

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me," she spoke under her breath. "We've always been close; I'm just curious about why it took so long on my end. Was I antsy? Afraid?"

"For me, I guess I was just waiting for you." The words stunned him. It was the only answer he had, the rest of him trying to pinpoint a more exact reason. "I felt comfortable with what I had, just being there by your side, so the only change between us is if you made it official...if you get what I mean."

"I get it." The flight in her reflection—pulling out from the dip in tone prior—brought him to relief. "Then I'm glad I asked." An idyllic hum. "Clarifications are everything, well, communication in general; I didn't want to worry about going on an assumption, or just toeing around it like last time."

"You're right," he said, pulling overgrown bits of grass under him. "I should've told you when you first kissed me."

The noise she made piqued of chagrin. "Oh man, you still remember that?"

Steven smiled overhead, hoping the stars humored them. Out of all the personal disasters they’ve done together, he didn’t mind that their affection lead to their foreheads banging together—it was his favorite memory. "In clear detail."

Connie groaned, hands wringing through her hair. "That was so embarrassing."

"I don't see it that way. I'm thankful for it." He snickered.

"Steven, noooo."

"It made me realize you were flirting with me before that!" Her hand pressed against his mouth, leaving him to struggle and teeter under her in muffled hysterics.

"Steven Quartz Universe, you need to stop talking right now!" She was in hysterics too, Steven trying his best to wrestle his way out. "Cease your lies!"

"Never!" He wheezed, face red as an apple. "You can't deny the fact that you were!"

"Shut your mouth!"

The struggle continued. He didn't know how long it went—seconds, minutes—but the next thing he could perceive was the taste of mint. Bubblegum. Pine needle. Face cradled in her hands. He couldn't conjure a word when she parted from him, mouths agape, keeping them bathed in lunar splendor on their glorious hillock.

A moment of breath. Then another. Each one keeping their eyes on the other, lips turned in candy-sweet beams.

"You didn't use Wikihow this time?"

She smirked down at him; a pepper-light kiss pressed to his forehead. "Steven, I'm already beginning to regret this."

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He reassured her, happiness emanating from his smile.

Contentment. A solid form of trust he wanted to cherish for hours and hours on end. If all he could do was just ask for the day to become never-ending, tend to a cycle of rendezvous and silver lining with her by his side, then things would’ve been perfect, but he knew the future waited for them—to grow up, to adore each other without the pressure of failure, to seek comfort in times of rock bottom.

There was no going back, huh? The label was there, they just had to use it. Nothing would change even if he uttered it. "I love you, Connie."

But there was satisfaction in hearing it. "I love you too, Steven."

Then came the rotund buzz—vibrating between them with a shocking velocity—both of them clambering back to their regular positions as Connie, who dug her fingers into her pockets, conjured her phone to the edge of her ear. "Hello, who's this?"

Pinpricks of noise sputtered from the receiving end. She bit her lower lip, nodding sparingly throughout. "Okay, okay. Pearl, we're fine, but please bring the emergency medkit just in case."

"Wait, Pearl is on the other end?"

Connie nodded before returning to the call. "Garnet's right. We went through an accident but we have our location if you want to come pick us up."

“Can I say hi to them, Connie?” He tried to look over her shoulder.

"Yeah, sure!" She then rebounded back to the caller. "Steven wants to talk to you guys; yeah, we’re on a hill, and I have a moderate battery life so you could call us when you get here." She handed him the phone.

“Steven, are you there?” The high-strung inquiry left him sweating.

“Yes, it’s me, I’m fine!”

“Oh thank goodness, Garnet told us you two were in trouble a few minutes ago and we were worried sick.” Something gushed against the speaker, clipping of the audio for a second. “Amethyst is bringing us there as we speak so it won’t take long!”

"That’s great." He peered over to Connie. "We got out of the car with no bruises, and we're just on a hill waiting for help."

Pearl’s tone sharpened. “I know you two will keep together but stay where you are, make a smoke signal if you have to.” Staying put was enough as is. “We’re on our way!”

“All right, I love you guys!”

"I love you too, Steven, keep in touch. Use your powers if you find a scratch, we don't want an infection."

"Will do."

With that, the cell went dark. Steven placed it back to Connie’s palms as they reclined, allowing themselves to wade in the sea of green; the wind picking up now, billowing through their locks, as they busied themselves with the heavenly sights. Pondering on the situation at hand.

“Hey, Connie.”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t we just ask the gems to lift the car out instead of calling a towing service?”

“Oh.” Silence. “Oh my God, you’re right.”

He shot her a sheepish look. “Well, at least I got to spend time with you, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Even with his limited view, he knew that she was flushed, Steven grunting at the half-hearted punch to his shoulder. “You’re showing your sap again, dork.”

"At a time like this, sap ain't that bad, especially if it means I get to do a sneak attack!"

Falling on her like a tilted stone, she shrieked as they resumed back into a fit of wrestling, hearts strung to the sound of their mirth. There’s nothing wrong with a little sap, he thought, for the night was still young. And the future was theirs.

[yourescapetofiction]

The Tides Have Turned-Part 18

A/N: This is my old work, The Tides Have Turned. It is a complete story that I am reposting on this blog so the work isn’t lost and can be found for those interested :)

Eighteen

I hopped into my parent’s car with Sam, and the Jacks. We figured keeping our squad together was the right thing to do in a time like this.

“You guys go, we’ll take the bus and split up. We’ll cover more ground that way” Cam said before hopping in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, sounds like a plan” J said hopping in the passenger seat of our car. Sammy was driving, while he navigated. G and I jumped in the backseat.

“Hey! You guys hear anything you keep us updated, group text!” G yelled before we sped off down the driveway.

It was pretty dark out now, the only visibility due to our headlights.

“Where should we check first?” J asked pulling out his phone.

“Let’s try that bar downtown” Sam said switching lanes.

“Hey,” G whispered grabbing my hand, “it’ll be okay” he smiled. I just gave him a weak smile, not sure if he was trying to convince me or himself.

The car fell silent as we drove for another ten minutes. My gut was wrenching. I knew the more time that passed, the more grave the situation could be. Maybe I watched too many cop shows on TV, I was psyching myself out.

“Alright it’s up ahead” Sam said pointing straight. He pulled off to the curb and we hopped out before bursting through the heavy wooden doors to the bar.

It was dark and smoky inside, a football game blaring on the TV’s hanging on the wall. Some grown men were playing pool in the back, and we had to shout over the sound of chatter.

“Do you see him?” I yell.

“Not yet! I’m gonna ask the bartender” Gilinsky said disappearing between the crowd of burly men.

“Shit,” I utter.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, we’ll find him” Johnson said rubbing my back.

“What if we don’t?” I question, my voice wavering slightly at the thought.

“Hey, you can’t think like that” Sam said grabbing my hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

“Alright, well he said he didn’t recognize Nate and nobody of his description has been through here tonight” G said coming back, running his hands through his hair.

“Okay, on to the next stop” Johnson said before rushing out the front doors.

We climbed back inside the car, as Sam asked for the next destination.

“Try the beach, you know he likes to take walks when he’s stressed” I say quietly, remembering the walk I had taken with him.

“You heard the lady” J said. We cruised along the coastline for a few hours, trying different beaches that he could possibly be at. We finally pulled over to a stretch unfamiliar to us.

“Maybe he would come here because none of us would know where it is” Sam questioned aloud while climbing out of the car. We speed walked down to the sand, my eyes desperately trying to focus in the dark.

“There’s a shadowy figure over there!” I point. We made our way over only to find a couple getting it on.

“Oh shit, sorry” Sam said covering his eyes.

“Get lost” the girl barked before returning to her man. We got out of there as fast as we could, I didn’t think I would be able to get that vision out of my head.

“Damn, I didn’t know these were those type of beaches” G said shaking his head. We all let out a small laugh, the first lighthearted instance of the evening.

“Wait, my phone is vibrating! It might be Nate” I say shaking as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. My face fell when I saw it was only a group text from the other boys. Sam and the Jacks leaned in closer to huddle around my screen.

Cam: We tried a few local clubs, nothing so far.

Nash: Any luck on your end???

Me: None. We checked the bar and the beach, nothing yet. Be in touch xx

I let out a heavy sigh as I put my phone back in my pocket.

“Now what?” I ask, growing anxious at our lack of luck.

“We go to the belly of the beast” J said. “Jessica’s house.”

Sam’s POV

“What?!” Y/n yelled from the backseat, craning her neck to make sure she heard J correctly.

“She might know where Nate is, I know you don’t like her, trust me I don’t either, but it’s a shot in the dark” Johnson said.

“I think he’s right” I chime in starting the car.

I could hear her sigh in the back and saw her cross her arms in a huff. I knew she didn’t like it, but she knew it was the right thing to do, for Nate’s sake.

I drove us along the stretch of road that led to the multiple beach houses that dotted the shore. We passed on after another until we recognized her car parked out front of one.

“This has to be it” I say pulling off to the side.

We got out and walked up the huge steps to ring the front doorbell.

“You guys better be right about this” y/n whispered.

“It’s all we’ve got right now” G said as the large front door suddenly swung open.

“What the hell do you guys want?” she looked repulsed to see us. And hence y/n’s eyeroll.

“Where’s Nate?” I ask, getting straight to the point. She furrowed her eyebrows.

“How the hell would I know? I haven’t talked to him since that shit show of a dinner” she said growing angry.

“He didn’t come by here?” J asked again.

“Or text you?” G added.

“No, nothing. He dropped me off after dinner and sped off when I asked if he wanted to come up” she said scrunching her nose.

“Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’m busy. I’ve got better things to do than talk to you four” she said and I could see a half-naked man walking through the house behind her. I shuddered at the thought that it could have been Nate. I don’t know what he ever saw in this girl.

“Shit! Now what do we do?” Y/n squealed, growing more desperate for answers. “Nothing is working guys, and I’m starting to get really worried” she said her head dropping as her voice cracked.

I pulled her into my chest and held her tight, it was all I could do in this moment. I was really worried about Nate too, but I didn’t want to say that and make everyone feel worse.

“Come on, we have to keep moving” I say walking her to the car. Even the Jacks fell silent.

“What’s the plan Sammy?” J asked.

“We drive around and pray we find something” I say, my face etched with worry.

Y/n’s POV

We drove for an hour in complete silence. We didn’t even have the radio on, nobody was bothered. Sam kept his eyes straight on the road as we looked out our windows.

“Guys…” G said sitting straight up.

“What?” J asked yawning and turning to face the backseat.

“Isn’t that Nate’s car?” he asked pointing out his window. I scrambled over to his side of the car, practically leaning into his lap to get a better view.

“Yeah, it’s a black Nissan!” I yell, hopeful.

“Sammy follow it!” J yelled as Sam cut the wheel tight throwing us around in our seats.

Sam hit the gas and I swear we were doing at least 100 mph as the black car sped off into the distance.

“They’re taking a left!” G yelled, making sure Sam didn’t miss the turn.

“Keep on him Sam!” J added.

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” he yelled back in a stressed tone.

The Nissan finally slowed and pulled into a long private driveway. Our faces twisted in confusion as Sam followed up the lengthy drive.

“Why would Nate be at a private mansion?” Johnson vocalized what we had all been thinking. I didn’t think it was right either, but at this point I was grasping at straws.

I threw open my car door and ran into the night air.

“Nate! Nate! Stop!” I yell making my way towards the shadows. The body stopped moving and turned to face my calls, and I heard the car doors opening behind me as the boys got out to join me.

“Excuse me?” an unfamiliar voice asked. I approached closer until a porch light illuminated the stranger’s face. He was an older gentleman, probably no more than 40 years old. My face fell at the realization that we hadn’t been chasing Nate at all.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, I thought-” I barely croaked out.

“We’re sorry to bother you, we were just looking for our friend and it seems this was just a misunderstanding” Johnson cut in, smoothing out the conversation.

“Oh, not a bother. Good luck finding your friend” the guy said before retreating into the house. Of all the shitty luck in the world, a guy with a black Nissan had to be driving around tonight.

I walked in silence back to the car and climbed into the backseat, shutting my eyes before my tears betrayed me. I looked out at the starry night sky. Come on Nate, give me something. Where are you?

“I say we go back to the house, regroup with the others” G said, defeated.

“We’re not having any luck driving around blindly in the dark” J added.

As we were enroute back to the beach house, the piercing sound of my ringtone filled the small space. G’s eyes met mine and I saw the city lights flash across his dark pupils. I retrieved my phone from my front pocket and frowned at the bright screen.

1-717-630-5199 read across the display. An unknown number, what are the odds. Normally I wouldn’t answer, but something in my gut told me to.

“Hello?” I ask, void of interest and emotion.

“Yeah, uh, is this an y/n?” the voice was deep, a thick New York accent evident.

“Uhm, yes?” I say again in confusion. Before he could speak further the guys gestured for me to put the phone on speaker so they could hear as well. I set my phone on the center console as we gathered around it.

“You might want to get down here, your friend is in pretty bad shape” he said. Our eyes grew wide. Nate.

“Wh-what? You’re with my friend? Is he okay?” I choke out, not sure what to make of this.

“I don’t know. I just found him, he doesn’t look good though. He’s in the alleyway behind Finnegan’s Bar in North Shore” he said and I could see Johnson typing away into his GPS, giving me a thumbs up when it popped up.

“We’re on our way” I say promptly before ending the call. I looked at Sam who just nodded at me. He turned back in his seat and peeled off in the direction of the bar. It would take us an hour to get there considering how far out we were from the car chase.

I sat in my seat, antsy. This was at least a step in the right direction, we knew where he was. But as with anything, one step forward and two steps back.

How bad was “bad?” I didn’t know what kind of mess we were about to walk into.

[thedazedyouth]

It’s You Who Hung The Moon

An Alfreyco series that I may or may not actually finish. Updates will be slow. I don’t know how many chapters it’ll be, but at least 4-5. 

Summary: Alfredo’s introduction to the Fakes is through a failed assassination plot.                    

              Make All The Sound You Want

There’s a particular haze that has weaved its way into the very concrete that forms the rough streets, to the glass that stands overwatching the insignificant ants scuttling about. The entrancing lights of the repeating buildings pull the needy, lonely and lavish into a state of constant daydream; a place where nothing means anything and a footstep is consequential.

Life has a twisted meaning within the borders of Los Santos. The sun beams down upon the city yet it is shrouded in sentient shadows and no named people. The very scent of the city can twist innocent minds into lethal beasts, snarling and laughing.

Crime is rampant, while the bystanders prefer to turn a blind eye to save their own skins.

How does that make them better?

Blood has leaked down from the heavens and stains the sidewalks, the encompassing mountains and every grain of sand that sits just before the lapping waves; and it is ignored.

Questioning the fabric of Los Santos’ reality will only lead to the unravelling of a city built upon graves and refusal to acknowledge unspeakable crimes that should remain as silent sin. Only whispers of the act the Gods above have witnessed make it further than closed doors and bribed corruption.

Amorality overtook as the trend of the century, and apathy snaked in closeby; together the pair destroyed a generation with hopes and faith and turned them into nightmares and unrecognizable reflections.

To the ones with fresh blood, that has yet to find its way onto a back alley in the dead of night, Los Santos is a miracle. A place to start again and wash away the regrets and mistakes that slyly follow you. It’s somewhere to settle down, start a family and live the life destined for the normal.

No one smiles at the passing sign that says “WELCOME TO LOS SANTOS” and thinks they’ll end up running past faded posters plastered against brick walls down a trashed and forgotten street. No one would believe the blood pooling from their side, their hand being steady as they pushed against the wound and their other kept a tight grip on their silver handgun. No one would imagine that the man keeping them stable and upright would be someone they planned to assassinate the night previous.

But Alfredo Diaz has never had a normal life.

                                      Thrills Don’t Come For Free

It wasn’t a bad thing that Trevor had finally gotten comfortable around the crew. He wasn’t so tense that you could visibly see him hold his whole body at a nervous angle, and he wasn’t a ton of bricks when anyone hugged him; in fact now he’d completely melt into it after being touch starved for so long. There were no complaints from about area.

When Trevor was an awkward newbie, he was punctual. He showed up to every heist a hour ahead of time, just in case, and he was always in Geoff’s office to discuss plans before Geoff even got there. Trevor liked things to be tight. He’d rather kill a target straight away rather than toy with them; unlike the other Fakes, who need some kind of release and being sadistic seem to work.

He slowly loosened those restraints as he picked up things from the Fakes; little habits they had that went mostly unnoticed. He found that it was more fun to draw things out, fuck with a victim a little before their doom.

Sadly, one of those restraints he let go was his perfectionism, in a sense.

The Fakes first noticed a pattern starting about six months into his appointment as the new leader. They were robbing a jewelry store; Geoff realized his and Jack’s anniversary was approaching and although she said no gifts, he couldn’t help himself. It wouldn’t be a surprise but she could get anything she wanted.

It was almost time for the heist to begin and Trevor was nowhere to be found. They were a few members down; Ryan and Gavin were negotiating with another crew for territory, so they needed the extra pair of hands.

Jeremy was furiously texting and calling Trevor’s phone only to be left on voicemail and a petty read.

Geoff was grumbling as they waited in Jack’s car, something about the respect in this crew and how he should whip them into shape, literally.

Ten minutes later, there was a sharp series of knocks on the drivers window. Trevor was standing there, black sunglasses with the price tag still hanging off and an iced coffee in hand, the ice cubes almost completely melted.

Jack rolled down her window. “What the absolute fuck, Trevor.” Total and utter exhaustion was distinct in her voice, with a pinch of tired annoyance. “Where the hell have you been?”

Trevor took a long, exaggerated sip from his drink “Uh, I reckon that’s pretty obvious,” he said calmly.

Jack pinched her brow and sighed deeply. Mentally, she was trying to find the words to chew him out but the lack of surprise took away from the anger. So instead she threw up her hands in defeat. “Fuck it, then. Let’s fucking go.”

Trevor stood back to let Jack jump out of the car, Geoff, Jeremy, and Michael followed suit. Michael was trying to stifle his laughter as Trevor took another thirty seconds to walk a few meters to throw out his coffee into a dumpster.

When he joined the crew again, Jack gestured towards the store they were across the street from.

“Ready?” she asked.

Trevor fixed his sunglasses, and nodded.

The Lads and Trevor were beaming in amusement as the crew made their way towards the jewellery store, Geoff was regretting every choice that lead him to that point while Jack was planning her retirement.

The heist went as well as the majority of their heists; barely escaping and leaving a trail of fire and explosions behind them. They quickly made it back to the car, Jack was quite content in the passenger's seat. A simple, shining set of gold and silver bracelets dangled together as she reached over and wiped away some ash from Geoff’s face.

The couple gazed lovingly at each other, only for a few moments but long enough to discomfort the trio in the backseat.

“Can we go now? The cops are gonna be on us soon,” noted Trevor, looking anywhere except in front of him. His new sunglasses were sitting askew on his face, if he noticed he didn’t bother to fix them.  

Jack broke the stare to snap back at Trev. “You don’t get to say anything, not after that shit you pulled today.” She turned to Geoff again. “Let’s go, babe,” she said sweetly.

Jeremy and Michael snickered on either side of Trevor, who was too afraid of Jack to say anything to shut them up.

                                               Catch Fire With Me

Alfredo walked calmly down the passageway, the two guards either side of him were starting to blend into the shadows and he couldn’t tell if it was real or just the dark lighting. The fact he would have believed the former was telling to how he’d been in the city for too long.

Five years ago, Alfredo would have pictured himself dead in a ditch if you asked him; but here he is now. He was entering the business of one of the most powerful and dangerous men in the city. An offer was sent out to Fredo, it wasn’t stated but he knew what would happen if he deemed himself too good to show up.

So there he was, walking into a meeting he didn’t know what about and his best gun was in the hands of some brute next to him, it was mentioned in the request that he should bring it.. Not exactly how he pictured his Thursday morning but better than doing nothing, he supposed.

The hallway was quickly ending, and a simple white door was waiting at the end. Stood before it was another two guards, their suits were the same as the ones beside Alfredo; but these ones were obvious. They didn’t blend in, didn’t disappear, these ones were meant to be seen, to put fear in him.

The one to the left only moved his arm to reach over and open the door. The guards beside him kept moving, slightly pushing Alfredo forward when he hesitated for a moment, with his own gun too. The fact that he knew nothing about this meeting unsettled him, it wasn’t how he usually handled business deals.

The room they entered was extended, it was clearly designed for office meetings. There was a wall of windows overlooking the streets but they were covered by velvet curtains. There were a series of chandeliers hanging over a long, maple table; a man sat at the very other end, hands clasped together and a suit similar to the ones his guards wore.

“Good morning, Mr Diaz.” His voice was smooth, but it boomed throughout the room. “Take a seat.” The man gestured to the seat directly to his right.

Alfredo held his best poker face as he walked, unguarded, to the other side of the room. He pulled out a chair and slowly sat down. He kept the guards in his peripheral visions but made eye contact with the man next to him.

“My name is Caden Sparks. You must be wondering why I called you here today. I have a proposition for you that I hope you’d be interested in.”  

Alfredo remained silent, allowing the man, Sparks, to explain further. Sparks stood up, he paced to the large curtains and pulled one open. The bright sun was sharp in Fredo’s eyes, but after he adjusted to the light he could see Sparks standing, almost watching the city with curiosity.

“I assume by now you’ve heard of the Fake AH Crew,” Sparks continued, still not facing him.. “Over the years that crew has grown more powerful, faster than anyone I’ve seen before. I’ve encountered them more times than I’d want but every time, they’ve proven that they’re nothing more than a bunch of arrogant children who are drunk on their power. It’s no secret that the famous Kingpin was the one who built the crew up from nothing, he’s always been in control, of his crew and the city. But something no one realized, is over the years Ramsey has given up the reins. He’s old, too old to be holding so much power. There was a change in the Fakes’ operations, a subtle change but a definite one. Not just once, though. The title of boss was passed over again. At first, I had no idea how to find this new, mysterious leader. But after searching for months, I found him.”

Sparks stopped, leaving the room in a tense silence. Alfredo processed what he was just told and realized what his job was going to be.

“And you want me to kill him,” Alfredo said.

“Exactly. Y’know, you’re just as smart as they say you are.” Sparks turned around again to face Alfredo, he was grinning. “Now Mr Diaz, I hope you understand how important this is. A simple bullet, that I will supply, will alter the course of this city and it’ll all be because of you.”

“What if I refuse?” Alfredo raised. It was a half-assed threat that he wasn’t stupid enough to mean but needed to know the risks of this job.

Sparks ignored his comment, he slowly paced towards Alfredo. His hand slipping into his pants pocket, Fredo’s body tensing as he prepared to run. Instead of pulling out a gun, it was a small item that flashed in the sunlight. Sparks leaned onto the table next to Alfredo.

“This bullet.” He held the small metal object between two fingers up to Alfredo’s face. “That gun.” He pointed to the guard holding Alfredo’s sniper rifle. “You’ve got a week and if you miss, if you fail for any reason, I’ll cut off your limbs and throw you off the pier.”

Alfredo took the bullet from Sparks’ hand. “Good thing I’m the best shot in town.” He smiled back at him, the threat meaning nothing to him, nothing could scare him. “Do I at least get a name for this guy? Or will you set it up for me?”

“Trying to make me do your dirty work, Diaz? I appreciate the snark,” Sparks said. “You’ll track him yourself, though. His name’s Trevor Collins. Make a display out of his body, I want everyone to see it.”

                                                 Curse My Eyes

The penthouse was often filled with a bunch of lazy bodies, laying around together without directly interacting. When there wasn’t a heist being planned and there was no other crew to talk with, most of the Fakes spent their time either working out some repressed anger or being normal adult men; playing video games.

Gavin had gone on a spree after he and Ryan came back from their negotiation and the crew was only just getting around to the pile stack next to the flat screen in the lounge. The Lads plus Jack and Ryan each sat around the TV, yelling at each other and laughing.

Trevor and Geoff had managed to discreetly slip away as the others were preoccupied. Geoff made sure to lock his office door behind them; they had been holed up in there for days, keeping any stray eyes away. Even after Trevor took over control, Geoff kept it his space. Trevor claimed he did better work surrounded by chaos rather than blocked away from it.  

Geoff sat behind the desk, Trevor had taken to pacing back and forth. Geoff tsked, shaking his head at the boy.

“Sit down, dumbass. Let’s figure this out,” he said.

Trevor sat down quickly, still feeling like it was a demand despite his own position of power. He leant his arms on his knees, his hands fiddling together as his brain pieced together the information they had received.

“We needed that land, Geoff. We’ve already promised the Vultures downtown that they can use it for their operations.” Trevor sped through what he’d already said a hundred times. “Tell me again exactly what Ryan said happened.”

Geoff sighed. “The negotiation went perfectly, Gavin was his usual amazing self; we got everything we wanted and a little more. But two days ago they contacted Gavin and called the whole thing off. They didn’t give a reason,” he explained. He stayed quiet to let Trevor think things through.

“Are you sure there’s no one else that can get use those weapons?” Trevor asked.

Geoff nodded. “You know there isn’t”

“Without that land, the Vultures aren’t going to give us their supplies and there goes a couple dozen deals and close to a million bucks.” Trevor covered his face with his hands and groaned into them.

“Bet you’re regretting taking over now, huh?”

Trevor ignored Geoff’s joke, a resemblance of a plan had popped into his head. “Okay, set up another meeting. Gavin takes Michael and Jeremy, I want them apart of the talk. I want them manic and intense, whatever they can to make Gav seem like the sane one. No one leaves the room until we get what we want, Ryan and Jack will go as backup to make sure of that. You and I will go to the Vultures. As far as they’re aware, we’re moving ahead with the deal and pray Gavin gets it before we have to fight for it.”

Geoff stood up, Trev following suit, and nodded in approval. “When?”

“Tonight.”

“Alright, I’ll let the children and Jack know the plans.”

Geoff left the office, Trevor stayed behind to peer out the windows. The city was blinding, the noise was thankfully dulled by the time it reached him that high.

Finally, with a plan in motion, the last few days caught up on him and the sudden withdrawal hit him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to leave the penthouse, meaning it had been too long since he’d had a proper coffee; not one made hours ago and left in the percolator on the kitchen bench.

Trevor checked his reflection in the window, and noticed the bags already starting to form under his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and headed out. He past through the lounge, assuming everyone had been filled in and continued for the front door.

“Treyco, where you going? We’ve got shit to do,” Gavin called from the lounge floor.

Trevor was steadily losing steam and couldn’t find the energy to turn around as he responded.  “I’m heading out, I need s’more caffeine.”

                                      Words, Wars and Symphonies

It was too easy to find him, Alfredo was looking for more of a challenge from this guy. But after finding a picture of him and running to through the city’s street cameras, Alfredo found his target visiting the same run down hole-in-the-wall cafe multiple times a day, the record was fifteen if he counted the late night runs.

Alfredo surveyed the area, and found an abandoned apartment block just down the street. A third story room offered the best position, so he took up shack there. It had taken only three days for Alfredo to be ready to complete the job, but then his target disappeared.

When Alfredo was first observing the store, he caught a glimpse of the target trailing closer and he considered doing it right there but decided against it. Too many witnesses to deal with. So Alfredo watched him leave, and now he was regretting that choice. He watched for another three days, silent and still, for the target to come and he never did.

His pattern changed suddenly but it was the only place Alfredo knew he should be. There was no other place in the city that Alfredo could find that the target frequented. So he waited there, eyes watching but his mind racing.

He’d been so sure this would go off without a hitch, he thought by now he’d have enough money to settle down somewhere outside of the city. But now he was planning his escape. If he failed, he was dead; and he’d worked too hard to get where he was just to end up as a body washing ashore.

Alfredo was too good to end up like that.

He trusted his gut and waited. He stayed in the apartment, never letting the small cafe out of his sight.

After hours of waiting, he was rewarded.

He instantly recognised the puff of black hair bouncing towards the store, he jumped into position.

The target was tall and lanky, there wasn’t much too him and Alfredo was wondering if it would’ve been easier to just punch the kid a few times instead of wasting a bullet. Although, the target didn’t seem like much of a threat, he was a Fake. That made him more dangerous than Alfredo would ever know, and he was expensive. Fredo could last off this paycheck for years.

So Alfredo lined up the shot. Through the scope he watched the target take a coffee cup from someone within the stall. Such a mundane place to die in. The target was still as he watched the traffic and drank his coffee.

Alfredo breathed in, he finger gently resting on the trigger. Everything was just right. He held his breath and squeezed.

[gary36]

GM X: Binary pt 1

I couldn't tell you the first thing about Alex.

"Switch seats with me."

"Why?" Kyrie shouted at me without taking her eyes off the road.

"Because-"

"I'm not a good enough driver for you!"

"Because your fucking right hand keeps trying to bite me!" I said indignantly while I pressed myself against the passenger door of the ice cream truck to put as much space as possible between myself and the massive lion head roaring and snapping at me in the middle seat.

"Well it's not my fault! I don't own him. He's not a pet."

"That's hardly the point, Kyrie!"

"Excuse me." Jamie said, tentatively poking her head from the backseat with both eyes on the lion head beneath her. "Mrs. Whetstone is the only adult here, maybe she should drive."

Kyrie rotated the steering wheel twice over, hit the gas, and leaned into a hard left turn. The ice cream truck came up on two wheels, for a moment I was sure we'd roll, everyone in back screamed, gravity pulled me towards the angry lion's open mouth, fortunately I was wearing my seatbelt. The tires squealed as we pulled out on the main road in the twilight. With a terrible shudder the truck slammed back on all fours.

"Am I not up to your standards?" Kyrie roared at the windshield.

"It's really just the lion thing." I said in a soothing voice.

"Mrs. Whetstone just has the most... experience." Jamie said diplomatically.

"Actually," Mrs. Whetstone chimed in as she regained her footing and rummaged around the freezer before producing an ice cream sandwich. "I ride my bike to work. I have a horrible phobia of driving. You're doing great hon!"

"Thanks Miss Shirley!" Kyrie said as she slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The lion went berserk, he thrashed and ripped huge chunks of the seats out with his fangs.

"Slow down!" I screamed.

"Fuck no!"

"Why?"

"There's snake people back there! My right arm is a lion! You're being a backseat driver!"

Kyrie stomped on the brake without warning. My insides lurched forward. Everyone in back screamed, so did the tires. The lion roared fiercely. The truck shuddered violently to a halt.

Suddenly all was quiet, the ice cream truck sat perfectly still in the middle of the empty road beneath a flickering streetlight. On either side of us tall green trees shifted in the wind. Kyrie breathed ragged and deep, her eyes fixed on the road. Her left hand held the wheel in a white knuckled grip. I saw sweat running down her face. The lion bore into me with his unwavering predatory stare.

At last Kyrie let out a long sigh. She reached over the steering column with her left hand and shifted the truck into park.

"Fine." Kyrie said popping the door open and gently sliding out "Have it your way."

I nodded and opened my own door. We started to swap seats.

"I can drive." Josh chimed in.

"Whatever." I obliged him, shifting course to the back.

"But I'm not sitting next to her." He pointed at Kyrie "She's got the disease."

"Would you shut the fuck up Josh?" I lost it "There's no disease."

The back erupted in squabbling.

"She can't ride back here." said a boy with corn-rows. "Her arm is a lion." I had learned his name was Virgil "We're too close together."

"Please don't let the wearlion ride back here." said Casey, an extremely short senior. "She's so angry."

"Technically," Darius, Math Club "lycanthropsy is a magical disease. Usually the transformation involves the best of both human and animal forms. This is more akin to shapeshifting, either through a spell or spell-like abili-"

"Can you please take me home?" Tina, freshman, color guard "I live just around the corner!"

"All of us want to see our parents." Roy, football player. "But where is everyone?"

"I don't want to go home." Margaret, perpetually smoking and wearing sunglasses, especially in class. "I want to hang with Lion Girl, she's cool."

"Wow." Sarah, perpetually smoking weed and wearing hemp, especially under the bleachers. "I can't believe you would act like this at a time like this. 'Lion Girl' is so cliche."

"Everybody calm the fuck down!" Joey, perpetually doing something sketchy in the bathroom.

"Nobody panic, it's going to be alright." said Jamie over the clamor.

Mrs. Whetstone, or Shirley, since Kyrie was on a first name basis, sat on a freezer beaming peacefully to herself with total indifference. Years of teaching had granted her a resistance to young people and their chaotic communication.

Josh was still ranting about seating arrangement "All I'm saying is-"

I shifted the truck into drive. Kyrie rolled down the passenger window and let her lion arm hang out.

We got rolling and an awkward silence settled on everyone.

I sighed and shook my head. "You said you're close by Tina?"

"Ya!" she piped with excitement "Just over here."

A couple of side streets later we were driving into a gorgeous sunrise. Tina lived in a modest house with her dad on Eris Avenue. We didn't pass anyone on the way, but Tina shrieked with joy when she saw her dad's car in the driveway.

The ice cream truck pulled gently to a stop in front of Tina's place. I turned and smiled at everyone. Sometimes it's nice to turn things over to adults.

Tina jumped out of the back of the truck and ran all the way to the front door. She knocked twice hard. Then she grabbed the door knob and let herself in with an ecstatic cry of "Dad!" Before disappearing inside.

Everyone else got out and gathered on the street. Tina's front door lay open. Miss Shirley walked to the door and called inside. "Tina! Honey! Can we use your phone?"

"Yes Ma'am!" Tina answered from far within her home. "One second I..." Her voice traveled further away and trailed off. "Let me just..."

Miss Shirley peaked her head inside "Tina! Everything OK?"

Tina came back to the door with a frown and tears in her eyes "I can't find my dad."

Miss Shirley placed a hand on Tina's shoulder and spoke softly "Hey now, everything is going to be alright. I'm sure your dad is around here somewhere. Did you check all the rooms?"

Tina nodded.

Miss Shirley held her chin in thought for a moment. "Where does he work?"

Tina sniffled "He's a cameraman. At the news station."

"Maybe he's still at work?"

"But his car..." Tina covered her face and looked down.

"Hey now, it's OK Tina. We'll find him."

"Okay..." Tina cried softly to herself.

I looked around at the others. They all shuffled their feet and looked down.

Darius cleared his throat "I live just down the street."

Shirley led Tina inside the house saying "Come on hon, let's call... someone."

"Hey, I gotta make a call!" Virgil said.

"Me Too!" said Sarah, aghast.

"Let me call my grandma!" Joey blurted out as he scuttled inside.

Soon everyone filed into Tina's house but me and Darius. A thunderous roar came from the ice cream truck. I looked back at Kyrie gazing sullenly into space, her lion reaching madly for me from the passenger window.

"Come on Darius." I said weakly. "Let's get you home."

We climbed in and started down the road. No one was outside. No one was driving. Once I saw a squirrel.

Darius lived three turns away from Tina. All the houses there had big yards, second floors, pools, guest houses.

"That's me!" Darius stopped me at a brown house with wood paneling down a private drive.

As I pulled up I hunched over the wheel and swiveled my head in all directions. There was no one, the sprinklers were on, the lights were on, but no one.

Darius jogged to the garage, produced a remote from his pocket, raised the door, and disappeared inside.

"Kyrie." I whispered.

"Yeah?" She replied without taking her eyes off the beast's glorious mane.

"Was it like this before you came to the school?"

"Like what?"

"It's so quiet."

"It's early."

"It's earie"

"Ya it's been kind of a weird day."

"Don't worry Kyrie, we'll get you... a doctor."

Kyrie rolled her eyes.

Darius walked back to the ice cream truck with his head down.

"What's up?" I said.

He shook his head. "Nobody's home. They left everything running, I'm sure they'll be back."

"Did you call?"

"The phone is out or something. It just beeps."

"Let's go back to Tina's." Kyrie said. She sounded exhausted.

"I'll wait here for my parents." Darius said.

"What?" I replied "Darius, we can't just leave you here by yourself."

He shrugged "I don't want to miss them when they get back. Besides, there's a security system. I'll be alright."

I refused to leave Darius alone but he wouldn't listen to reason. Eventually he went in his house and Kyrie reminded me that the others would be looking for us at Tina's. I turned the truck around and felt myself speeding. It wasn't like there were any cops around.

I looked to my right and saw the wind blowing through Kyrie's hair. She was holding the lion's face into the wind and stroking his mane with her left hand.

"I think he likes it." She said softly, as if to herself. "The fresh air calms him down."

When we got back to Tina's I headed directly inside. Kyrie stayed scratching the lion's head.

A quiet defeat had settled on all the students inside. They sat all about Tina's living room with hunched shoulders and low hanging heads. Miss Shirley scanned a nearby bookshelf silently.

I saw a phone in the room and picked it up.

"It's not gonna work." Virgil said.

I dialed my home anyways. It rang twice. I heard a click like someone answered but then just beeping. High pitch. Low pitch. Low pitch. Low pitch. High pitch. High. Low. Low. Low. High. High. High. Low. High. High. High. High.

[pebble-xo]

One Second

The sound of your phone buzzing across the desk pulled you out of your daze. Dropping your pen, you grabbed your phone on the third buzz, reading the caller ID and smiling uncontrollably. “Hello,” you answered quietly, scanning the small corner of the library you had tucked yourself into in case any stern librarians were lurking behind bookshelves.

“Hey beautiful,” Chanyeol replied cheerfully, your boyfriend’s low dulcet voice washing over you in a wave of comfort. “How’s the essay going?”

Like a reflex, you groaned. You were completely surrounded by a small mountain of books and yet somehow the word count on your essay had barely reached 500.

“That good huh?” he teased with a soft chuckle. You could just picture the crooked smile on his full lips.

You groaned again, turning your chair away from your laptop. “I don’t know why I’m struggling so much babe,” you moaned quietly, lips stuck out in a stubborn pout. “I understand the theories but when I try to write coherent sentences about it, my brain decides to go blank.” You rubbed your tired eyes and sighed in defeat. You’d been stuck in the library for hours with nothing to show for it.

Chanyeol hummed thoughtfully through the phone. “It sounds like you need to take a break. Have you eaten?” Always so concerned for you, it left a warm feeling in your heart.

A small smile couldn’t help but find a way to your lips. “Yes, I’ve eaten. There’s a cafe downstairs that does really good tea,” you told him, spinning lazily in your chair. “Were you just calling to check I had remembered to eat?”

“No, I just wanted to hear your voice,” he countered, no doubt pouting at your distrust.

You laughed lightly, checking your watch for the time. “How are rehearsals going?” You weren’t the only busy one; your boyfriend was spending everyday rehearsing for EXO’s performance at the closing ceremony next week and you knew he was working extremely hard.

“We’re still learning the choreography,” he grumbled, his true tiredness slipping into his voice. “I don’t think we’re going to finish until late tonight,” he explained sadly.

“Not exactly the Valentine’s Day we had planned,” you replied in a quiet voice, thinking of the dinner reservations you had to cancel. The pair of you were just too busy to celebrate this year.

He sighed wistfully - maybe you shouldn’t have brought up Valentine’s Day.

Quickly you tried to distract him. “Babe, I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter, it’s just another day,” you tried to rationalise so he wouldn’t feel bad. His performance was more important. There would be other celebrations to share together. How often did you get to close the Winter Olympics?

“Still it’s our first Valentine’s Day,” he replied in a cute whining voice.

“And there will be many more in the future,” you countered, although you wanted to spend the day with him just as much as he did. Anything to get away from this torturous essay. “Unless you know something about our relationship that I don’t.”

His bright laughter echoed down the phone, easing your worry about him. “Our relationship is perfect,” he assured you. “I need to get back to rehearsals.”

“And I need to finish this essay,” you finished forlorn, spinning your chair so your gaze fell on your laptop. Already you were mentally groaning at the thought.

Chanyeol laughed once more, the sound like a perfect melody for your ears. “You can do it babe.” he cheered brightly. “I’ll try and call you later.”

You didn’t want him to hang up. You weren’t finished getting your fill of his voice … but would you ever be?

“I love you Chanyeol,” you confessed quietly, hoping he knew just how much you did.

You could practically hear the smile on his lips. “I love you too baby.”

Hanging up, you wheeled your chair back to your desk and threw your phone down next to your laptop. Your essay was opened up on the screen, the low word count practically flashing like it was taunting you. Taking a slow steady breath, you cleared your mind and thought of Chanyeol; how hard he was working and how dedicated he was. He was your motivation, to keep trying, to make him proud like you were of him.

With renewed energy, you placed your fingers on your keyboard and somehow the words flowed right out of you.

-x-

It was late when you finished. The sky you could see through the small window had darkened and pretty much everyone but you had left the building. You saved your work and switched your laptop off, checking your phone for the time. It was close to midnight.

There was a text from Chanyeol waiting for you.

‘How’s the essay going? Remember you need to sleep x’

Smiling wide, you rushed to reply. ‘Finally finished!! Just about to leave the library. Are you still rehearsing? xx’. Dropping your phone into your bag, you started to pack everything away and shrugged your shoulders into your coat, already heading towards the exit.

On the ground floor, the huge glass doors parted so you could pass through, the chilly February air hitting you with sharp bitterness. You wrapped your coat a little tighter around your body and rummaged in your bag for your iPod. It wasn’t a long walk to your small apartment.

“Need a lift?” someone called out in a low but perfect voice.

Immediately your eyes lifted, trying to find the source of the familiar voice. There you found him, leaning against his beast of a Mercedes in his matching Adidas tracksuit with a cap pulled over his face. But even with his features obscured, you’d recognise those huge cute ears sticking out from a mile away. “Chanyeol?” you exclaimed in disbelief, waiting for him to peel himself off his car and lift his hat before running into his arms. “What are you doing here?”

In a second, your body collided with his and he wrapped you up in his long arms, dipping his head so he could bury his face in your hair. “I was determined to spend at least one second of our first Valentine’s Day together,” he murmured softly into your hair, drowning you in the subtle scents of his aftershave. “Plus it’s too late for you to be walking home by yourself.”

You laughed lightly, leaning back so you could find his face and cradle his soft cheeks in your hands. “What about rehearsals?” you asked, so happy to have him under your touch after so long apart but worried it was coming at a cost.

He beamed at you, your favourite dimple making an appearance. “We finished about an hour ago. I’ve been parked out here waiting for you,” he replied, tightening his grip on your waist so you were pressed flush up against him. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Checking your watch, you smiled as the clock struck midnight, signalling the official end of February 14th. “Our first Valentine’s Day!” you whispered, moving your hands to the back of his neck and reaching up onto your tiptoes. “The first of many.”

Chanyeol closed the distance between you both with his lips, letting you melt into his warm loving embrace. His strong arms lifted your feet off the ground, carrying you with ease and setting you down on the bonnet of his car. You wrapped your legs around his hips and clung to him, enjoying his toying tongue playing with yours. His arms encompassing you in warmth, his lips pressed hard against yours, he felt like home.

When you pulled away, all flustered and filled with love, you kept your arms locked around Chanyeol’s neck to keep him close. “Do you want to sleep over tonight?” you asked quietly, unwillingly to cut your meeting so short. The more famous your boyfriend became, the less time you got to spend with him so you both decided early in the relationship to just make the most of every moment spent together.

“I don’t have to be at rehearsals until 11am,” he hinted at playfully, kissing you fully on the lips before helping you down off his car. “We may have missed Valentine’s Day but we still have Valentine’s Night.” Like a gentleman, he held the passenger door open and helped you climb inside, before running around to get in the driver’s side.

As soon as you climbed in the car, you started fiddling with the stereo, syncing your phone up with the bluetooth and playing the playlist you and Chanyeol spent five hours creating together on a Skype call while he was abroad. The pair of you shared a wide smile as Zombie by The Cranberries started quietly playing.

“I got you a present,” he said quickly, reaching behind to the backseat for something.

You sighed softly. “Chanyeol, you didn’t have to get me anything,” you told him, knowing it was falling on deaf ears. He didn’t have the same money worries that you did, and he had no trouble spending it either.

“It may have melted a little bit,” he replied, returning his seat with a crooked smile on his lips and a milkshake from McDonalds in his hand.

Just like the milkshake he spilt when you first met.

“Oh Chanyeol,” you exclaimed, leaning over the gearstick to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You’re an adorable idiot, you know that right?” you teased, taking the milkshake and beaming as the cold strawberry flavour washed over your tongue.

“But I’m your adorable idiot, right?” he questioned, his dimple appearing once again.

You dotted a small but meaningful kiss on his perfect lips. “Mine.”

💖 HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO ALL YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! 💖

[masterlist]

[dylanssprayberries]

Telesthesia - Liam Dunbar

Chapter 5.

Allison’s old laptop weighs heavy in my backpack. Not as heavy as the guilt I carry with me. Uncle Chris told me I could use Allison’s laptop for educational purposes. Although I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed, I’m sure my uncle did not mean for me to educate myself on the supernatural. 

“Noelle, wait up!” Liam easily jogs up to me in the hallway. “Everything okay?” He asks as we walk to our English lecture. It’s the only class we have together.

“I told you I’m fine.” I mutter.

“And your heart skipped a beat.” 

“Because you’re making me nervous, Liam.” 

“Another lie.” He states. “That’s okay, I only asked because I care.”

“Why do you? We barely know each other.” I roll my eyes.

“Because you saved my life.” His voice is low and he looks down to the floor.

“And if there’s anything-“

“There isn’t.” 

“If you insist.” Liam mutters.

“I do.” 

We walk in silence for a moment, avoiding the mass of students roaming the halls. They quickly disappear into their assigned classrooms. Great, now we’re late. Then Liam stops in his tracks, but I don't wait up for him. Within seconds he grabs hold of my arm, causing my books to fall to the ground. He pushes me up against a row of lockers and corners me by putting his hands on either side of my face. 

I’m frozen in spot, staring into his big, bright eyes. I swallow hard to get rid of my nerves and ignore the pleasant feeling of his breath fanning across my skin.  

“What? No biting back?” Liam raises his brows, his lips twisted into a smirk.

“Figured that’s more your thing, fangs and all.” I release the breath I was holding. I’m awfully aware of how fast my heart is beating.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Noelle.” 

“You have me cornered up against the wall, what the hell do you expect?” I snap.

Liam shakes his head. “That’s not it.” 

“Just let go of me.” Thankfully my voice is steady, unlike the rest of my body. My legs feel like they could give out on me any second now. 

“Tell me what’s wrong with you.” He almost pleads.

“What’s wrong with me?” I exclaim. “Liam you have me pushed against a wall and you’re asking what’s wrong with me? Let go of me you asshole.” The tears start to well at the brink of my eyes. As soon as Liam notices this, he takes a step back. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. He brings his hand up to his mouth before he runs it through his hair. 

I shake my head. “No, you’re not.” 

“You’re being impossible here Noelle, clearly there’s something wrong with you, why won’t you tell me what it is?” He clenches and unclenches his jaw with so much force I’m surprised I can’t actually hear his teeth brittling.

“Because we’re not friends Liam.” He looks taken aback at this. “And after this I don’t think we ever will be.” I turn around to walk away but knock straight into Scott. We haven’t met before, but I recognize him from the pictures in Allison’s room. She kept every memory of him, even after they broke up, which I think is beautiful. Scott eyes me warily as he helps me up. “I’m her cousin.” I explain, because the question Allison? is written all across his features. 

“Noelle, right?” Scott quickly recovers. “She used to tell me about you.” 

I nod. “I should go.” I step aside to move past Scott but his voice brings me to a halt again.

“Or you could come with us?” 

I hesitate but turn around again. I lock eyes with Liam, who’s now leaning against the lockers he had me pushed up against. “Where?” 

“You should stay in the car.” Liam says to me. We’re seated in the backseat of Stiles’ Jeep. 

“Because I’m weak?” I raise my brows.

“Because you’re human.” 

“Same difference.” I shrug. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Liam mumbles. 

“You hurt me today.” I remind him. This gains us the stares of Scott and Stiles through the rear view mirror. They don’t say anything, though.

“I said I was sorry.” 

“‘Sorry’ isn’t some magic eraser that undoes what you did.” I snap.

“You’re staying in the car.” Liam states, then he gets out. 

“Everything okay Noelle?” Stiles asks. When I don’t reply, he continues. “Liam can be a pain in the ass.” He states. “But most of the time he’s alright.” With those words he gets out of the car. Scott looks at me once more before he, too, goes outside.

For a moment I just sit there, studying Stiles’ car a little. It’s a cool ride, falling apart at most parts, but the nostalgic feel about it makes up for that. I decide to study a little, it’s only my first day of classes, but I have a lot to catch up on.

When I go to take my books out of my backpack, my eyes catch hold of Allison’s laptop. More intrigued than ever, I find myself typing in her password, completely forgetting about the Biology chapter I intended to read. 

Allison has loads of documents saved. I make a mental note to look through her school papers some time, could spare me a lot of work. Hidden further away, I find a folder that says Scott. I feel intrusive and pray I won’t find anything too disturbing, like collages or nudes. Or collages of his nudes. 

Thankfully, I find exactly what I was looking for. There are images of beasts with fangs bigger than the people shown. Accompanied by script work I cannot make out, I’m guessing it’s latin. I sigh, guess anything on here is completely useless if I can’t even read what it says. 

Bored again, I shut the laptop close and get out of the car. Liam carefully warned me to stay inside, but he’s not the boss of me. Besides, I came along to get more information out of the pack. What a complete waste of my time it would be if I stayed in the car. Plus, agitating Liam is quite the bonus.  

I climb out of the Jeep, slam the door shut behind me and wander out into the narrower parts of the alleyway. “Great. A fucking dead end.” I mutter, staring at the wall that’s blocking me. I frown, certain Scott, Stiles and Liam all went this way. The only way they could have entered the building from here is through the window, about five meters high above the ground. There's no way I could climb up there, not even if I push the garbage can up against the wall. I sigh, but not defeated, and decide to walk around the building in search of another entrance.  

I find one, and once inside, I find the building eerily quiet.  What pieces of furniture are left are all broken, ripped and the materials are sprawled across the floor. I move through the first room, not one sign of anyone else being around. 

The same goes for the next four rooms I make it through. I reach a hallway, with ceilings higher than I’ve ever seen before. There’s a stairway in the middle of the room leading to the second floor. I hesitate to climb the stairs, but my decision is made for me when a body flies through the air and lands right in front of me. I am blocked from the stairs, but even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be able to move. The body in front of me doesn’t look human, nor alive. I cannot help but scream.

“Noelle what the hell are you doing here?” Liam’s voice drags me out of my daze. I blink rapidly, dragging my eyes from Liam in his wolf-like state to the body in front of me. Taking in as much of the body as possible, I conclude that it does not look like a wolf. “Noelle.” Liam’s voice cuts through the tick air. He looks like his normal self again when he grabs hold of my arm and drags me out of the room. Only when we’re outside he releases his grip on me. “I fucking told you to stay in the car.” He snaps. I don’t reply to him as I walk back to the car. 

“Noelle are you listening?” Liam exclaims, following behind me. “I’m talking to you!” he snaps again. 

My vision is a blurry combination of the car I’m walking towards and the body that came towards me. There was blood all over it, eyes open wide with shock. I think it missed a limb or two. 

“Noelle!” Liam grabs hold of my arm again, like he tends to do. 

“What?”

“Talk to me.” 

“No.” I say, even though answering him defeats my point. I shrug my arm loose and keep walking.

“Where are you even going?” 

“I’m going to study Biology and pretend I didn’t just see what I did. Or better said, what you did.” I snap at him. My hands are shaking when I open the door to the Jeep. I climb into the backseat and grab hold of my backpack, easily finding my Biology textbook in there. It’s easier to avoid Liam’s eyes when I have my gaze focussed on my book, although I can’t make out a thing I’m reading. All I see is the body, and its lifeless eyes staring into mine.

Liam sits beside me, not saying a word. Every once in a while I flip a page, none of the words stick in my mind, though. “This is ridiculous.” Liam mutters suddenly. He grabs the book from my hands and closes it shut. “What are you doing?” 

“Trying to study.” I state. 

“Noelle,” 

“Don’t.” 

“That wasn’t my doing.” He says, quietly. 

“I don’t care.” I mutter.

“It wasn’t me.” He repeats. “Peter showed up.” 

“Hale?” I frown. 

“Yes.” Liam frowns as well. “You know of him?” 

“Not really.” I shrug. “Just the name.” And the fact that Lydia resurrected him from the death, which he made happen by mind control. He and I should have a chat some time. 

“Yeah well, you should know he isn’t very patient.” Liam mutters. 

“Got that much.” Again we sit in silence for a little while. I watch the minutes pass by on the dashboard clock. After exactly six minutes, Liam speaks up again.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He sounds honest, not forced like usual. I look up into his eyes and can tell he really means it.

I want to shrug and tell him it’s what I get for being so stubborn. I should have listened, should have stayed in the car. I deserve to have him rub it in. I can’t help but smile a little that he isn’t doing just that. He’s different now, less distant. Acknowledging I’m human, and that it’s quite horrifying to see a dead body. So instead of the cold reply my instincts tell me to give him, I tell him thanks.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #139: Prescription: Violence!

September, 1975

So wait. Is it Prescription: DEATH! or Prescription: Violence! ? It would be bad to mix up your prescriptions. It could even result in death.

The cover seems like it goes either way. There’s sure some violence. And some death threats. And some angry disembodied heads.

At least this time they don’t look angry at their fellow Avenger. They’re clearly glaring at Whirlwind for his rude hospital etiquette.

So, last time: The Avengers went on a membership drive after losing Scarlet Witch, Vision, Mantis, and Swordsman to marriage and predestined death. Moondragon and Beast were signed on as provisional members and Wasp and Yellowjacket agreed to rejoin the team. Then the Stranger (secretly the terrible Toad) attacked the team because girls, specifically Scarlet Witches, don’t go for ‘nice’ guys like him. He was defeated by the Beast’s roomy trousers but not before he horribly injured the Wasp and forced Yellowjacket to change sizes when he really shouldn’t’ve.

Which brings us to Yellowjacket having dragged Toad all the way to the hospital to wave him at the comatose Wasp and demand that he cure her.

I don’t think Hank Pym knows how medicine works.

When Toad points out that there’s nothing he can do, Yellowjacket throws him across the room. The other Avengers hold him back but then the doctor throws them all out of the room.

Imagine. Throwing a short mutant across the room where someone is in a coma. That’s no way to behave.

And as some police cart off Toad while calling him the ‘mutie’ slur, the doctor muses that maybe he shouldn’t have let the Avengers in the room in the first place.

THEN WHY DID YOU, Yellowjacket demands.

Iron Man: “As I recall, old buddy, you insisted on it, as her husband!”

Yellowjacket: “Butt out, Iron Man!”

Yellowjacket: “Jan wouldn’t be lying there if she hadn’t accepted the Avengers’ call to join up again! I don’t want to hear from you!”

And then he hurts himself, punching Iron Man. Because. Suit of armor.

Hank Pym just loses 1000% of his chill whenever anything happens to Jan.

But thankfully, before he can embarrass himself worse, Whirlwind shows up. He says that even if Jan had been safely knitting socks by the hearth, both of the Pyms would still have Whirlwind to contend with.

But today he’s only here for the Wasp. SO BYE.

And he zips past Thor and Beast and Iron Man by spinning really fast.

Yellowjacket catches up to him in Jan’s hospital room but Whirlwind’s reflexes are mighty and he BOM!s Hank right across the chin.

But before he can do anything to the comatose Wasp, Moondragon does her thing. Using a mind-burst to sear Whirlwind’s brain and choke his thoughts.

Whatever that means.

Because whatever it does, he still possesses the Whirlwind wherewithal to flee unhindered.

But at least he’s gone and Wasp is safe.

Yellowjacket complains that life is just one long string of disasters.

Beast: “The super-biz is like that, though.”

Besides, adds Iron Man, Jan missed this crazy kind of life.

Yellowjacket disagrees but he’s hit with a sudden burst of pain. He claims its something he ate and tells Thor to butt out and runs off. Indeed the size-changing last issue has its cost.

And his behavior has its cost too. After Yellowjacket leaves, Iron Man - either disparaging or disbelieving - says “To think he helped found the Avengers!”

But he tries to understand that its just Yellowjacket acting out of worry and despair.

But since there’s nothing further the Avengers can do here, Iron Man suggests that they should investigate what happened with Hawkeye. Oh, hey, random spur of the moment idea! He and Moondragon will go check it out!

Thor: “Iron Man! Must we again engage in argument over which one of us doth chair this team?”

Iron Man: “There’s no argument, Thor --! You got to “observe her for the purpose of determining her suitability for becoming an Avenger” last time -- and now it’s my turn! Adios! Quick, lady -- let’s go! There’s a storm brewing!”

And then he bustles Moondragon out the door while Thor complains about the lack of order in the Avengers.

Beast: “The super-biz is like that, though.”

Hah!

But geez. What’s happening with the team? Wasp gets put in a coma on her first day back. Yellowjacket is losing his shit and lying about being in pain. Iron Man and Thor are in a dickwaving contest over the new superheroine. And Iron Man made the yaranaika face when he was running off with Moondragon.

It’s like there was all this drama that was concentrated into the Vision-Wanda-Mantis-Swordsman love rectangle but when they resolved that through death and marriage, the drama became disembodied and started haunting the team.

Anyway. Yellowjacket heads down to street level where chauffeur Charles (secretly the wondrous Whirldwind, true believers!) asks YJ how Wasp is doing. Yellowjacket reminds ‘Charles’ that he was fired from being Jan’s chauffeur after he tried to defraud her estate and also get lost.

But Charles is secretly the Whirlwind (gasp!) having used his position as Jan’s chauffeur to spy on the superheroic couple. And if they’re back into herowork then he’s back into being their nemesis!

Professional pride, maybe.

So he sneaks back up to Jan’s hospital room to beat up a helplesss coma woman (“And what better time to kick somebody than when they’re down?”). But alas, Beast and Thor are still visiting. ‘Charles’ makes up an excuse and leaves.

The narration even mocks him.

“Has it struck you that perhaps the writhing Whirlwind isn’t the world’s most astute long-range planner? That his high-speed hi-jinks may have made him a spur-of-the-moment man?”

And we cut to Iron Man and Moondragon on a Quinjet on their way to Doom Castle. And Iron Man is looking forward to use this long flight to get to know Moondragon better.

Moondragon responds by mockingly flirting with Iron Man before yelling at him to leave her in peace. Apparently, she has a problem with men grasping for love and companionship with her. Specifically Daredevil, Mar-Vell, and now apparently Iron Man.

ELSEWHERE, a woman is reading a newspaper and sees an article about the New Avengers (not those ones) and announces that Beast won’t escape her again!

Dun dun dunnnn?

Elsewhere, Yellowjacket has returned home and is sadly looking at a picture of Jan as he thinks of all the good times. Like the time they played... some weird game in their living room. Oh, the good times! Jan was the only person that ever got Hank’s nose out of a book and made him play around and have fun!

Oh, but then Whirlwind attacks. Guess with Thor and Beast still occupying the hospital room, he’s decided to go after Yellowjacket instead.

But Yellowjacket once again proves why ants is best power and commands the ants beneath his lawn (because of course Hank Pym would keep ants underneath his lawn) to dig up the ground where Whirlwind is going to whirl, dropping the villain in a pit.

And then he whips out his cellular disruptor pistol but instead of facing it, Whirlwind FLEES.

Almost like he already knew what the cellular disruptor pistol did. But only a few people should...

EUREKA!

He calls the hospital and asks Beast a question that we don’t get to hear that Beast answers in the affirmative. Beast asks if other Hank wants help but of course Yellowjacket says This Is Something I Have To Do Alone.

You’d think that Hank Pym would be better at teamwork considering he almost always works with a partner and helped found a superhero team.

Anyway, Iron Man and Moondragon’s Quinjet arrives at Castle Doom, Latveria.

And Iron Man is apparently feeling snippy about the rebuff Moondragon gave him. Like, really snippy.

He turns on his chest-light so they can see and then says:

Iron Man: “Follow my chest-light, priestess. Unless it’s too suggestive for you!”

Masculinity so fragile...

We thankfully don’t have to put up with much of this passive-aggression because in the very next panel, the two discover that the time machine... IS MISSING!

Hawkeye never returned!

It’s for the best really. With how tense and at odds the team already is, adding Hawkeye would be like throwing sodium into a pool.

Anyway, time to check in on the happy honeymooning couple as we apparently have to do once an issue. Why can’t we leave them alone and give them some privacy?

Apparently, after ? days of honeymoon, Vision is suggesting that they take a honeymoon break and return to the world and find out what their marriage will mean to their lives among other people. Basically, find out how people will react. If they were prepared to try to suicide bomb Vision just for kissing Scarlet Witch in public, how will they react to them being actually married?

They’ll have to face it sooner rather than later and Vision proposes getting it over with.

Which certainly is an argument. Alternatively, send word to one of the Avengers to leak it to the press and then ride out the initial surprise, alarm, and vitriol out of contact on a tropical island.

By the time you get back, the inconstant public will be mad about something else again. Probably either Spider-Man or mutants.

I’m just saying, enjoy the time away from the super-biz while you can! You just know that you’ll get drawn back in if you go back!

Is this because you’re too embarrassed over having to wear a swimsuit, Vision?

Anyway.

We cut back to ‘Charles’ who is singing and dancing towards his chauffeur car. AND THEN YELLOWJACKET BURSTS OUT THE BACKSEAT AND J’ACCUSE!

So the jig is up so Whirlwind changes into his Whirlwind gear in a whirlwind. I have kind of been wondering how he even.... puts it on. The chest portions of what can only loosely be described as a costume looks like the same green metal his helmet is made out of. Doesn’t look flexible at all. So how does he fit his arms through? Maybe its not metal.

Anyway, Hank Pym grows to Giant Man size and starts trying to grab Whirlwind.

Whirlwind makes a chump out of Pym though. Dodging so he goes sprawling or bouncing off his face.

Yellowjacket does at least get a good burn in. Saying the only reason Whirlwind’s ‘Charles’ persona fooled him is because he has other things going on in his life. Unlike a dude fanatical enough to become his enemy’s chauffeur.

Whirlwind whirls so fast that a whirlwind lifts him up to avoid a Yellowjacket punch but Yellowjacket shrinks down to Ant-Man size and slips under Whirlwind’s chestplate, despite the man doing his best to try to throw him off.

And under his chestplate, holding onto his thick chest hair, Yellowjacket starts zapping Whirlwind in the pecs with his Stingers at full force.

And it’s working, it is, but then another burst of pain strikes Yellowjacket and keeps bursting.

He falls out of Whirlwind’s chestplate and lies tiny and helpless on the roof as Whirlwind lifts his leg up to stomp down.

And then he’s saved by the bell.

BONG!

That’s the sound of a blue fist hitting a plausibly green metal helmet. And then Whirlwind falling insensate to the roof.

Yellowjacket gets his pain under control and grows back to Hank Pym size.

Yellowjacket: “Beast! Didn’t I tell you to stay away from here?”

Beast: “You did! But as Samuel Collins said in the 1943 Superman newspaper strip -- never mind me. Attend to that arch fiend!”

AAAAAAAAH SUPERMAN COMICS EXIST IN MARVEL! MUTUALLY FICTIONAL! MUTUALLY FICTIONAL!! YELLOWJACKET MEETS SUPERMAN LATER!!!!

Anyway.

Beast: “Just chalk it up to a hope for friendship, and a worry about your welfare, YJ. But now you’ve got me wondering: why’d you fall out of his chestplate?”

Yellowjacket: Oh, I -- just slipped!”

He lies. He lies to his fellow Hank. Shame on you, Pym.

Its cool that Beast ignored This Is Something I Have To Do Alone and came to help his fellow Hank. Hanks gotta stick together. Although I have to wonder how long he was watching and how he snuck up on Whirlwind who has remarkable spatial awareness.

Then again, he was having his nipples roasted off. That would have been a good time to sneak up on him.

But although Yellowjacket got his pain under control, he wonders how long it will be before it comes back. And he knows that size-changing so much against Whirlwind was a bad move.

And I just bet that next issue, he’ll have to pay for it. Considering the next time box.

[murphysannie]

@achilleanragnor‘s sh love fest day 10: familial love

title: a shoebox of photographs with sepia-tone loving

relationship: luke/jocelyn, luke & clary, clary & simon

tw: food ment

[read on ao3]

It takes Luke approximately a half an hour longer to put the tent up than it should do, and rather than making herself useful Jocelyn just parks her butt on a log and laughs at him. He lifts an eyebrow at her second snort, turning to her with a deliberately put-out expression on his face.

"Did you wanna help?" he asks.

Jocelyn grins at him and flings her hand out to gesture to the kids. "Sorry, got my hands full with the two of them. They're running riot."

Luke glances over at where Clary and Simon are kneeling by a newly overturned log, chattering excitedly about the mini beasts they found hiding there. Clary's peering at something Simon has in his open palm, their heads so close together Luke wouldn't be surprised if one of them ended up getting bumped.

"Riot. Right," Luke repeats flatly.

"Besides," Jocelyn says, quirking an eyebrow, "I'm quite enjoying the view."

If Luke flexes his arms a little in his T-shirt at her words, no one has to know.

Jocelyn laughs again and springs up from the log, volunteering that she's going to find some firewood. Luke's smiling as he turns back to wrestle with the tent. How hard can it be, really? He's a werewolf, he shouldn't be defeated by a few sheets of material and some sticks.

They've set up camp in a little clearing in the woods, with enough space for the tent and some chairs and a little camping stove Jocelyn's neighbour had lent them. By the time Jocelyn gets back, Luke's won the tent-battle and is unfurling their sleeping bags inside it.

"Nice work," Jocelyn says, squeezing Luke's arm.

"I'm a man of many talents," Luke says, and he catches the way Jocelyn wiggles her eyebrows at him as she crouches down to smooth out the sleeping bags.

They fry steak for dinner over the campfire, Luke insisting that everyone has some salad on the side. He cuts Clary and Simon's tomatoes in half, then arranges them with some cucumber sticks into a smiley face. Simon grabs a handful of grated carrot and splonks it on top of the salad face on Clary's plate, claiming it now looks like her, and Clary looks mildly offended for a moment before she's laughing.

It's good to see the kids so happy and carefree, getting a childhood Luke and Jocelyn were never granted themselves. Even with everything they've been through to get here, Luke wouldn't change it for the world. He looks across to Jocelyn, finds she's already reaching her hand out for his, and smiles at her. Her eyes are bright in the light of the fire.

"You gotta eat your salads, guys," Jocelyn says, clearing her throat, "or no dessert."

"I can't eat Clary," Simon points out sadly, his finger circling in the air over where he's added a salad-Clary to his own plate.

"It's okay," Clary tells him kindly. "I'll forgive you. That's what friends are for."

Simon beams at her and pushes his glasses up his nose before happily munching on some carrot. Luke can't help but smile, catching Jocelyn's eye.

Once they've finished their food Jocelyn ums and ahs and loudly debates with Luke about whether they should be allowed dessert. Clary turns to Luke with big puppy eyes. Simon's beside her, nodding along, brown eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Please, Luke," Simon says.

"Please, Dad," Clary adds, and Luke's momentarily speechless, heart expanding and overcome with emotion.

He swallows the lump in his throat - how did he ever end up so lucky as to get this? - and reaches over to ruffle their hair.

"Sure thing, kiddo," he tells her. "How could I say 'no' to you?"

Jocelyn whips out the marshmallow packet to Clary and Simon's cheers, and once Luke's got the fire roaring they take it in turns to help the children roast marshmallows. Clary gets the hang of it pretty quickly, having the knack to get them gooey but not burnt. She informs them all primly that turning the skewer is just like holding a paint brush. A few of Simon's get a bit burnt, his concentration wandering as he holds them over the fire, more focussed on telling them excitedly about The Incredibles.

Luke can feel the tension draining from his body; his hellish week at work feels far away, like his whole world is the three people in front of him. In a way, it is - since his family disowned him, something that still bullets him through with pain now, he's made his own family, found his own people.

Simon's still on his movie story, though somewhere along the way it seems to have got entwined with a tale his sister told him about real life superheroes and villains in New York. It's almost so cliché, sitting round a campfire, swapping stories - though Luke reckons there're tales in his and Jocelyn's past that are closer to villains almost destroying the world than he ever wants Clary and Simon to have to experience - that Luke is ready to join in and go with it, but then he notices Clary's expression.

"I don't think I like that story," she says, crossing over to Luke and resting a hand on his knee. She looks up at him.

Luke sweeps a strand of red hair behind her ear. "Don't worry," he tells her. "Your Mom and I will always be here to keep you safe."

"Promise?" Clary asks, arching an eyebrow. She looks so serious in the firelight.

"Promise," Luke confirms. Clary smiles at this, the turns and plucks another marshmallow from the bag and spears it with her skewer. She holds it over the fire as Simon enthusiastically continues his story despite Jocelyn's efforts to calm him a little.

"He swoops down and bang!" Simon yells, jumping off his chair. Clary squeals and the marshmallow stick goes flying up in the air. As if in slow motion, Luke can see it happening, but he's too slow to stop it. The stick bounces off Clary's head and sticks there, the gooey sugar holding it in place.

To Clary's credit, she doesn't cry, she just looks a little perturbed and tries to pull it out. But that does nothing, and then her panic begins to set in. Simon, for his part, looks guilt-ridden, suddenly up in front of Clary and fussing at her, apologising.

"Luke," Jocelyn says calmly, "could you find the penknife in my bag, please?"

"Knife?" Clary squeaks.

Simon looks a bit sick. "Please don't cut all of Clary's hair off, Jocelyn," he says.

Jocelyn smiles reassuringly. "I won't, honey," she says. "Just the part that has marshmallow in it."

Clary only allows her mother to trim her hair if she can sit on Luke's lap. Simon holds her hand, telling her it will be alright, and Luke has a fleeting thought that they're all being entirely ridiculous, making such a big deal out of this. But this is his life now, and as he meets Jocelyn's eye, he knows he wouldn't have it any other way.

They make it through the rest of the night without any more marshmallow-related mishaps, and before long the kids are falling asleep where they're sitting. Jocelyn and Luke half-carry, half-walk the children into the tent, settling them down inside the sleeping bags. Once they're firmly asleep, Luke and Jocelyn head back outside.

"Thank you," Jocelyn says quietly, resting her head against Luke's shoulder. Luke tilts his head to lean against hers. "You do so much for us. I just want you to know that I appreciate you."

"I do," Luke says. "We do it for each other."

Jocelyn pulls away then and smiles at him. Luke presses a kiss to her temple and then wraps her in his arms. She sighs happily and tugs him closer. The two of them sit wrapped up in each other by the dying light of the campfire, lost in the moment.

It's only when they've trudged back to their car the next day and Clary catches sight of herself in the wing mirror that she starts whimpering. Simon helps Jocelyn load the trunk while Luke tries to calm Clary, and he manages to get her into the car. She blinks at him dolefully as he helps her put her seatbelt on, tears spilling over her lashes.

"I don't wanna look like a boy, Luke," she cries. "Mommy cut all my hair off when I told her not to!"

Simon starts clambering up into the backseat of the car and Jocelyn helps him put his seatbelt on. Luke nudges Clary with his elbow to get her attention again.

"She cut a tiny bit off, Clary," he tells her gently, "which was the best thing to do." Clary isn't mollified and her bottom lip begins to push out into a pout, which Luke knows will end in a real meltdown soon. "Listen to me, kiddo: no matter what you look like, you're still beautiful to me," he tells her. She bites her lip. "And I will always love you."

Clary stares at him for a moment and he holds her gaze, and then she nods slowly. "I will always love you," she says, and man, if Luke didn't have to drive home he probably would have melted right there and then. "Whatever you look like. Even when you're old."

Luke smiles. "Watch it," he says, poking her playfully. She grins at him, eyes less watery. He leans in. "D'you want to know a secret?" he asks. She nods eagerly. "Everyone else here will always love you too."

Jocelyn nods. "It's true," she says. Beside Clary, Simon is nodding ferociously too.

Crisis averted, Luke and Jocelyn get in the car. Jocelyn squeezes Luke's thigh as they set off, mouthing thank you, and he smiles at her.

Luke looks at Clary and Simon in the rearview mirror.

"Who wants to play a game?" he asks, and cheers resound in the car in reply.

Simon goes first, and soon they're all giggling as Luke drives them home.

[brendanmoviedate]

"Nobody will ever notice that. Filmmaking is not about the tiny details. It's about the big picture."

All through 2015, I’d been hearing about people doing a new-movie-a-day challenge starting January 1st and ending December 31. It seemed like a great idea for clearing through my watch list and an excuse to get out to the theatre more. 

So for 2016, I decided part way into January that I was going to go for it. By that point, I was only a few movies behind, so how hard would it be to catch up and get to 366 (I just had to pick a leap year for this) by December 31? Well, by April, I was about 15 movies behind, and this was with watching three or more films every Saturday while my girlfriend was in class. Still, I was confident - my girlfriend would be going to school in London starting in September, so I’d have lots of free time to cram in some extra movies. 

Flashforward to October, and an outdoorsy summer and month-long trip to the UK found me around 80 movies behind pace. Not good. I thought about giving up, but I’m too stubborn and foolish to let go of stupid things like this. October was rough. I watched movies all weekend, every weekend. I found the movies on my list that were less than 90 minutes, so as to pile on an extra film or two. By the end of the month, I had watched 100 films in 30 days. Halfway through December I reached 366, capping out at 374.

What did I learn?

This type of challenge really fucks up your decision-making abilities

When trying to decide between going out and watching a movie, or reading and watching a movie, or doing chores and watching a movie, or grabbing a meal at a restaurant and watching a movie, watching a movie always seemed like the right choice, just to get me closer to that goal of 366. Every time I chose to do something other than watch a movie, I felt anxious that this could have been the one movie keeping me from reaching my goal. It was rough. I’m only now getting over this feeling and it’s already March (spoilers: I’m never going to do this again).

The “only new movies” clause really stung

There were so many times when I wanted to watch a recent favourite, but couldn’t justify it. Mad Max: Fury Road, 22 Jump Street, Nightcrawler, Sicario, et al. kept beckoning me, but I would invariably choose something new.

Peak TV takes a backseat

With only a few minor excpetions (Veep, Silicon Valley, Game of Thrones), my TV watching for the year plummeted. I was already behind on shows like The Americans, Orphan Black, and Fargo that I really wanted to watch, but multi-episode seasons would eat up too much prime movie-watching time.

You don’t always watch what’s good, only what’s available

Netflix is so diluted at this point with direct-to-video releases and Netflix originals starring Adam Sandler that finding something of quality to watch was always difficult. Often I’d find myself watching a mid-2000s action movie instead something from my iMDB list just because it was on Netflix. Other times, even if I film I’d wanted to watch was on Netflix, like Son of Saul or Leviathan, I’d watch The Book of Eli because I was already too worn out by a day’s worth of watching movies. 

A movie-a-day only really makes sense for those who can watch a movie a day

Work+girlfriend+dodgeball+hockey+friends meant I had only two or three days a week to squeeze in movies, necessitating regular marathons. It really defeats the purpose of the challenge and wears out the viewer on a physical and psychological level.

Korean thrillers are awesome

I watched a number of excellent films from some of Korea’s best directors, mostly in the horror and/or thriller genres. Bong Joon-ho’s Memories of a Murder and The Host, Kim Jee-woon’s The Age of Shadows, Na Hong-jin’s The Wailing, and Yeon Sang-ho’s Train to Busan all explored well-trodden movie tropes from fresh perspectives and made choices that North American filmmakers would normally shy away from. All of these films are classics that I can see myself revisiting over and over again. Of these films, Memories of a Murder is probably my favourite, serving as a Zodiac-like look into the futility of murder investigations. I should also mention Park Chan-wook’s The Handmaiden here, but I’ve talked about that masterpiece twice already.

Brian De Palma is an underrated master

Unabashedly fixated on voyeurism in his films, De Palma constructs tightly scripted, twisty plots that focus on peeping, spying, surveilling, and stalking as a means of telling a vast breadth of stories. His films are sleazy in all the right ways, but he brings to his low, almost uncomfortable, subject matter a brilliant technical understanding of film. Raising Cain, Body Double, and Dressed to Kill are all great examples of his craft, but it’s 1981′s Blow Out, starring a never-better John Travolta that is the perfect synthesis of his methods and methodology. The use of sound, split-screen, and split-diopters to focus on foreground and background at the same time is as captivating as the plot.

The worst movies were unfunny comedies

This probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me, but the worst kind of movie is an unfunny comedy. Not necessarily comedies with unfunny jokes (which, don’t get me wrong, are also nigh unwatchable), but comedies without jokes whatsoever. The films I’m talking about are those that are considered comedies because they weren’t serious enough to be dramas or tense enough to be thrillers, but instead just some stuff happens to the characters that provides a minor conflict or misunderstanding before an uninspired resolution. Fortunately, I only saw a couple of these, but they were painful enough to leave scars - The Overnight and the deliberately ironically titled The Comedy. The less said about The Overnight, the better, but I’ll at least faintly praise The Comedy for being a deliberate joke on its audience by being so gleefully unfunny.

I’m finally on board for the Fast & Furious franchise

After a meh first instalment and a horrible sequel, this franchise was as good as dead to me. With Furious 7 dominating the box office and positive word of mouth for the series finally drowning out my doubts, I decided to hop back into the franchise with the third instalment, Tokyo Drift. This film wasn’t by any means great, but it was engaging and personal in the way that the first two weren’t. When the next film cut back to Vin Diesel and company, I was slightly disappointed, as the band of thieves dynamic didn’t really meet my needs. However, it was Fast 5, when the franchise got a Dwayne Johnson injection, that it became an over-the-top superhero team-up movie. This film was absolutely insane, culminating in a getaway chase with a giant vault tied behind the vehicles demolishing half of Rio. The next two films failed to live up to Fast 5, but still featured cartoonish lunacy in the form of a wedge car vaulting other vehicles into the air and Dwayne Johnson flexing out of a cast.

The films of the 70′s and early 80′s continue to impress me

We’ve all heard that the 1970′s were the true golden age of cinema. Godfather this, Annie Hall that. But there’s so much more of value than the masterpieces everyone lauds. Sorcerer, Possession, The Warriors, Marathon Man, and The Taking of Pelham One Two Three are all vastly different films, but all have incredible performances, perfect pacing, and are utterly captivating. Sorcerer, about a group of drivers carrying unstable dynamite through treacherous jungles, and Possession, featuring Sam Neill as a spy watching his wife’s character slowing change into something else, both stayed me long after they were over, due to their incredible suspense and shocking outcomes.

Lilo & Stitch might be my favourite Disney movie

The Disney Renaissance died after the release of Mulan, with Tarzan, The Emperor’s New Groove, and Atlantis: The Lost Empire failing to capture imaginations the same way Aladdin or Beauty and the Beast did. Combining this decline with my bumbling journey through adolescence, it’s only natural that I’d didn’t give them a chance. So it’s with great regret that I did not see Lilo & Stitch until 2016. This film has all the heart and morals of a typical Disney film, but it’s incredibly funny as well. This was one of the movies I laughed at the hardest last year, mostly due to the antics of Stitch, who seems part koala and part centipede. This will easily get a rewatch over any of the Renaissance films. I wonder if a live action remake is in the works. 

Return to Sleepaway Camp is as boring and tone deaf as Sleepaway Camp is fun and outrageous

Sleepaway Camp is a notorious cult classic, featuring campy performances and low tech slasher violence as well as one of the most genuinely shocking and disgusting reveals I’ve ever seen in a film. The image of it's final frame is forever burned into my brain. Naturally, the film garnered a few poorly conceived sequels with no one from the first film involved, which were easy enough to ignore. However, what I couldn’t help but be intrigued by was a “true” sequel from the original writer-director, featuring at least a handful of the original cast. If ever I regret watching a movie, it’s this one. Return to Sleepaway Camp reeked of desperation and ineptitude, from a director who had been far removed from filmmaking for the 25 years since his debut was released. It’s shrill, loud, derivative, boring, and featuring a twist so outrageously apparent for the whole film, it felt like a big “fuck you” to whomever watched and liked the first film. 

The Purge movies are getting increasingly closer to being worthy of their own premise.

The first film in the Purge series was a missed opportunity. Setting up a brilliant premise, where all crime is legal for one night a year, the filmmakers foolishly decided to confine the film to within a single house for an uninspired home invasion thriller. The Purge: Anarchy brought the action to the streets for some expanded world building and introduced Frank Grillo as the new face of the franchise. But it wasn’t until the third film that real characters and an interesting plot developed. The Purge: Election Year is topical, disturbing, and more visually interesting than the previous films; if the series continues in this upward direction, I’ll be completely on board for the annual purge.

As I said earlier, this experiment was taxing, making me feel the crunch of a deadline for an entire year. But despite those struggles, I’d qualify it as a success. For each bad and mediocre film I watched, I watched two that I liked. I found a bunch of classics that I’ll be sure to return to over and over, and a bunch of directors whose filmographies I can make my way through. 

[marianne-dash-wood]

The Real Ending

Hey, @kyleehenke. You don’t know me, but I did this as a token of my deep appreciation for you and your blog, and everything you do. I found you through your Undertale stuff- I hope to have incorporated some of that spirit into this. Your video’s and text posts and drawings and countless memes have brought me so much joy, sometimes when I thought everything didn’t look so great. So thanks. I hope you enjoy this. I hope that I didn’t overstep the mark with this, and while I cried during the writing of this, that’s possibly because it’s nearly midnight and I have school tomorrow. I hope that you don’t cry because of me, but I do hope you enjoy whatever the fuck this is. (I try to be either pretentious or funny when I write and I fear that this is a horrific mix of the two that has become neither of them)

Words: 2450

Paring: Noctis/Luna/Kylee

This is the story so far:

“Duck!” you scream, as you push Prompto out of the way of the beast's claws that surely would have impaled him. They rake down your front, the cuts shallow but momentarily deliberating just the same. You stagger back, and manage to regain your footing and composure in time to watch Noctis land a strike directly across the beats throat. It gives one final roar before thudding to the ground, and lying motionless.

You put a hand to your front, and your fingers come away red. Your shirt is ripped.

“Kylee, are you okay?” Ignis asks, coming over to inspect the wound. You feel a little dizzy, and your chest aches, but mostly you’re irritated at being the only one seriously wounded.

“I’ll be fine.” You reply, and take Prompto’s offered hand to steady yourself.

“Good.” Noctis says, and turns back towards the car.

Ignis’s body language agrees with your prince's, as he too begins to walk away, after a final glance at your injuries. You wrap your jacket, or rather, the jacket, you borrowed from Noctis, around your chest, ensuring it covers up your ripped shirt. You can’t help but feel a little upset that he didn’t offer to help, but then he’s going through a difficult time. You both are, and you decide to confront him about it later.

“Can you grab my knives?” You ask as you begin to make your way towards the car. Glado obliges, handing them to you so you can sheath them away for your next encounter.

“You saved my life. Thanks Kylee.” Prompto says

“No problem. That’s what friends do, right?”

“What’s that old saying?” Gladio asks. “Friends die for each other. Best friends die together.”

Ignis sighs. “Don’t go saying that in front of Noctis, he’ll start getting ideas.”

“He already has far too many ideas.” You agree.

“But seriously, Kylee.” Prompto looks you dead in the eye. “Thank you. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

You slide into the backseat, and Ignis passes you a roll of bandages from the front seat. They’re too shallow to need disinfecting, but deep enough that they might leave three talon shaped scars on your chest. Badass.

Noct is sitting on your right, , and from the direction Noct is gazing in, he’s thinking about Luna.

He’s gazing in the direction of Altissia, just as you so often have been.

“I know you’re worried about her.” You say, quietly enough so that Prompto, who is sitting on your left and arguing with Gladio over the music, won’t be able to hear.

“I’m worried about her too.”

You grew up with her. Of course you are worried about her.

“Kylee, run!” Luna shouted at you, gripping your hand tightly. The attack had been horrifically sudden, and you didn’t want to think about what you had just seen. Your knife was still in your belt, unused, and useless against the might of the soldiers pouring in. Even at a few years older than your charge and friend, you struggled to keep pace with Luna’s pace, though perhaps it was not the pace she wished to set. The king was pulling her along, and by extension, you as well, his son in his arms. This had been the first royal event you were allowed to attend as the first, and so far only member of Princess Lunafreya’s guard. A noble child, sent to be raised alongside the princess, to guard her with your life. You hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon. You were barely more than a child yourself, and yet you were already expected to give your life for hers. Right now, she was the one saving you, having grabbed your hand the moment the king started pulling her away, hauling you to your feet with more strength than you thought she possessed.

You hear Ravus scream, and both you and Luna turn to look. The King does not. He keeps running.

You hear Luna’s voice, quiet; a murmured apology. Then she pushes you forward, pulling out of the King’s grip , and pushing you forward within range of his grasping hand.

“Go, Kylee!” She shouts, and stops running.

You can only call her name as the king drags you away, ignoring both you and his son’s pleas otherwise.

And that is how you came to be raised in the palace of Lucis.

This is one way the story could end:

You lose her. And then you lose him. Ten years pass, and these men you call your brothers fight with you, but with one of your number lost and none of you know where he is, only that you must protect his kingdom until his return.

Then he does, and for a split second you let yourself believe that this will be how it ends; he returns, he rules, he defeats the monsters and gets a happy ever after. He strokes the back of your hair when he hugs you for the first time in years, and you both try to ignore the changes that have come over you. You ignore the way his beard feels against your face, and he ignores that white blond strips in your hair that you no longer bother to dye.

This is what happens: he follows his destiny. All this time, you’ve followed him, walked his path. You walked tall, as long as you were with him. And you stand by, and let him walk away from you again.

You and the others find his body in the throne. You are the one to lay him on the floor, and Gladio helps a gravely injured Ignis to sit beside him. Prompto rubs your back as you sob, pressing your forehead into the lapels of his jacket, tears soaking into the fabric.

Light is streaming through the hole in the wall of the room, but you can’t be happy he succeeded.

This is not the ending you want. This is not the ending you will ever, ever agree too.

Later, you take the trident. Don’t ask where you found it. Just know that you took it, and you screamed at the sky, and you made a bargain. They heard your grief and sorrow and pain and barely contained power

This was their first attempt. It was not the ending you wanted either. Somehow, fate has decided that you rather like watching the ones you love die over and over again.

Only this time, you are allowed access to their ending as well.

“This isn’t what I wanted!” You shout, at the sight of their wedding, at their peaceful slumber, at the injustice of it all, because it’s perfect, its what they deserve, but not yet, not yet.

They still have so much of a life left to lead.

“We have given you peace.” The voice says, deep and slow. “Is that not enough?”

“Not at this cost!” You say, indignant and determined. “Not them. They deserve so much more than this!”

“Then what do you suggest?” It asks.

“Send me back! Let me reset this whole thing, and go back to the beginning, and do it right. I’ll save everyone, all you have to do is send me back.”

“You make it sound so...simple.”

“It is!”

“You are curious. An oddity. You were not meant to be.”

“Well, fuck you!” you cry, indigence in your voice.

The voice chuckles. “You have great power. More than you know, Kylee. Maybe you can have the ending you want after all. But it must be your choices. There is no turning back now.”

You set your shoulder, pull out your weapons, and take one last look at the sleeping couple. The loves of your life. Or lives now I guess.

So this is the story you want.

It is Prompto giving you impromptu piggybacks around the campsite.

It’s you faceplanting Gladio into the dirt, your elbow to his throat and feeling the vibrations of his laughter.

It’s you and Ignis fussing over the other’s injuries like mother hens, because you’ve always been good at looking after other people.

It’s you and Noctis under the stars, probably doing something that you ought not to be doing, and finding yourselves not caring anyway.

It’s you and Noctis in the back of the car, pressed together, hands intertwined, and small knowing smiles on your lips.

It's the years of messages between you and Luna and Noctis, the tree of you, growing up and somehow, improbably, and impossibly, falling for each other despite everything.

It’s the best kind of story. The one with a happy ending. The one you make yourself.

It is this thought, this knowledge, that carries you towards the shore line of Altissia without hesitation, despite the huge and terrifying monster ahead.

Your weapon whirls in your hand, slicing at any part of that thing you can reach, ducking out of the way of its limbs, hoping against hope it's not too late.

You never found her body before. You have to this time.

At the edge of the pier is where you find her, her and Noctis. She’s mortally wounded, you can see the blood, but you can also see the way she is beginning to light up with power.

She's not healing herself, because of course she isn’t. She wouldn’t be your Luna if she wasn’t.

God, she’s beautiful. You haven’t seen her in so long. Your chest aches for her.

You reach her just in time. You blink and realise you are not where you were. It’s a field, and it’s drifting away like a dream, and more importantly, Luna is drifting away. Noctis is reaching for her, but it’s not enough.

Remembering what the voice said, you wince. You are not supposed to be here. You were never blessed with the powers to speak to the gods, or to wield magic or weapons that simply appear into existence. You have something more, though, something powerful, and immensely strong and undeniably human. You love. And you are determined to save the ones you love.

“Luna!” You scream. You’ve interrupted what was probably a very deep and meaningful speech, but it’s worth it for the way they both turn, surprised at the sight of you as you begin to sprint towards them.

It feels like you are wading through mud, but nonetheless, you reach for her, an echo of the day you lost her.

She’s being pulled away, but this time she’s fighting it, and Noctis is reaching out further, and further, and for a second, both your fingers and Noctis’s brush against hers.

You gasp awake. Next to you, Noctis does the same. You pant, staring at each other for a moment. Then, realisation hits you.

Luna’s body is next to you. You flip over, and lean down, pressing your forehead to hers. You can feel no breath, no heartbeat, no sign of life.

“Come on.” You whisper. “Come on, Luna, please.”

Noctis crawls over. He looks like he’s in shock, but he takes Luna’s hands in his own.

“You can’t leave” You plead. “I just got you back, please, come back to me, I didn’t even get to talk to you again.”

Tears begin to trickle down your face. Your hair, sodden and frankly, a dreadful mess, brushes the edges of Luna’s face.

“It’s me. It’s us. We’re here, and we’re never gonna leave you again.”

You close your eyes tightly, and cradling her head in your hands, whisper just one, single prayer.

“Please. I love you.”

Luna gasps to life, choking and spluttering and undeniably alive. You pull back to let her catch her breath, Noctis and you taking one of her shoulders as she regains her composure. Once this clears, she looks at you, eyes widening in surprise.

“Kylee?”

You grin. “The one and only.”

“I thought…”

“You’re an idiot, you know that? The pair of you, idiots. I thought you were supposed to be the clever one, Luna, but clearly I have to do all the looking after in this relationship.” You huff a little, relief settling into exhaustion and endearing annoyance.

Luna huffs a laugh, which turns into a full-blown laughing fit which all three of you fall into, the other arriving in time to find you all wheezing, clutching at each other and not daring to let go.

Of course, even after this, Noctis still disappears for ten years. Annoying bastard of a boyfriend.

Still, at least this time you are not gonna let him go it alone.

“No fucking way.” You say after his whole big and mighty speech. It’s impressive, but it isn’t swaying you.

“Together or not at all.” You insist. “I know what you are about to do, and for the gods sake, please let us help you. You might have had ten years of going it alone, but we’ve got you back now. And we’re not going to let you go.”

In another ending, another world, he might have refused, gone on alone anyway. Completely ignored you, and run off to his destiny like a good little prince. Only this time Luna is at your side whielding a massive trident that is fully capable of impaling him if he so much as looks like he is about to abandon them. And believe me, she has learned how to use it.

“We’re going with you.” She says, the trident in her hand almost making her point for her.

You feel tiniest twinge of regret when you feel a full spectral sword plunge into your abdomen, because that fucking hurts, but that is quickly washed away when you finally get to blast that bastard Ardyn to oblivion. Doesn’t matter if he’s hot or not.

When you open your eyes, and god you hope that the last time you go to an astral plane, because that place is trippy as fuck and you’ve honestly spent more time in there than you ever wanted too, you are lying in the throne room, light is streaming through the windows, you can hear shouts and cheers from the people outside, and best of all, Luna is holding one of your hands, and Noctis is holding the other.

“I love you.” You blurt out, because you honestly haven’t said it enough. “I love you both”

They smile at each other, and somehow, the two of them are still in perfect sync. Gods, you’re a lucky woman.

“We know.” Luna says, reaching up with one hand to cup your cheek.

Noctis is the one to pull you into a huge hug and the others join you, your laughter echoing off the stone walls.

Yeah. This is the ending you wanted.

[erinlennox69]

Creamfields 2017

coWhile enduring the dramatic anti-climax which has been left following the conclusion of Creamfields, I felt that if I put my thoughts into words in the form of a blog post it might help to ease the pain ever so slightly. I’m just going to start off by saying that the overall experience was UNBELIEVABLE. As my first real festival, I must admit that it set the bar rather high in terms of standards. 

Throwing it back to February, the line-up for Creamfields had just been announced. “We definitely need to go this year” Aimee, my sister, would say to me. This was something that had been discussed for the past two years but continuously fell through on account of a variety of reasons. I believed that this year would be the same. I was wrong. My student loan somehow wiggled its way into my account and within a matter of minutes my sister and I had our deposit paid. This was it. We were GOING. 

After leaving virtually everything to the last minute, from the boat tickets to the camping gear, I found myself losing sleep on the run up to the departure day. I panicked myself useless about the concept of driving through Liverpool by myself. I panicked about how many bags my sister and I were going to take with us. I panicked about money. As this trip grew closer and closer, I found myself growing more and more anxious. It was safe to say that I was not looking forward to it. Then, before long, the day had arrived. My sister and I took an early morning trip to Asda to gather up alcohol, amongst other things, before heading to get breakfast. After getting some well-deserved shut eye before packing up my belongings, it was time to leave for the ferry. We stopped to collect a tent from Aimee’s friend, Sam, who was supposed to be meeting us there. He was giving it to us as he was getting a flight over and had too much to carry. We agreed to take it, believing that it would be one of those two-man tents which only required 10 minutes and a general understanding of construction to build. To our surprise, it was not one of those tents but a whopping nine-man tent which more resembled a small block of flats as opposed to a tent. With the backseat of my car, and my boot, being jam-packed with our stuff, Aimee and I could only laugh at how the hell we planned on carrying all of this stuff to the campsite. We laughed because if we didn’t, we would most definitely cry. After an 8 hour boat journey which felt like a sleepless lifetime watching the live action remake of Beauty and the Beast, we had arrived in Liverpool and it was my time to shine in terms of driving. I had managed to convince myself that driving in England was no different to driving in Northern Ireland. Oh, and I was wrong. It was completely fucking different. Northern Ireland was a lot more green and a lot less huge. If I took a wrong turn, there was a possibility that I would end up in North Wales and that was something I took extreme measures to avoid. After driving on the motorway for about 30 minutes, we began to notice signs that directed us towards Creamfields. I don’t know whether I was excited or just buzzing because it meant I was going the right way. Probably a happy mixture of both. 

We paid our car parking ticket and made our way onto a field where there were numerous party-goers ready to get wrecked. I must admit, after the gruelling and traumatic venture to Creamfields, I could have used a drink, myself. We unloaded all of our luggage onto the grass beside our car and with one look at each other, we had already admitted defeat. We most definitely could not take Sam’s monstrosity of a tent with us. We loaded ourselves up with bags, made about 10 steps away from the car and gave up. This was not happening. Then, out of the corner of my eye I noticed these little men with blue wheelbarrows. At first I thought it may have been a hallucination, but then I realised it was a miracle. I approached them and put on my most audible accent because let’s face it, the English have a terrible time at understanding Northern Irish people. Fuck, Northern Irish people have a terrible time at understanding other Northern Irish people. These guys were no older than 25 and looked like they were just there for a party, which is fair play because weren’t we all? They informed me that the wheelbarrows were £20 for 3 hour use and required a £30 deposit in case they didn’t get them back in time. £50 was a small price to pay and we paid it. Skipping happily up the hill towards the queues, we were on top of the world as it seemed that this weekend was finally here after months of (not-so-much) planning. That was until we had to wait SIX HOURS before getting near the entrance. The sun was beating down, I was dying to pee and Aimee was growing more and more agitated as time went on. Not to mention this wheelbarrow was becoming more of a curse than a blessing as we wheeled it in slow motion up a grassy hill. It also was beginning to seem unlikely that we would get our deposit back for it. We finally made it past security and into the camp site. At this point we were past caring. Since I was the only one who knew how to build a tent, I pitched our tent and then blew up our mattresses while Aimee caught rays and got stuck into the drink. 

The second day started off much better. I was showered, fully rested and feeling funky fresh. Also, Sam and the rest of the group were to be joining us so I could talk to someone else that wasn’t Aimee. One problemo: our phones were both dead and we had no way to contact them and tell them where we were. On our way to get our phones charged, we heard someone yelling our names from across the campsite. I turned around to see one tall, green haired girl and another short dark haired girl in a rainbow fringed dress running towards us. Although they were completely unfamiliar to me, Aimee recognised them straight away. They were Claire and Chloe-- Sam’s friends! We immediately followed them to their tent and helped to move their tent away from where they had pitched it (which was coincidentally right next to a man who had shaved his head right down the middle and spray painted the empty space green). When we moved their tent next to ours, we happened to spot a group of guys trying to pitch their tent at the same time as ours. Claire ran over and began helping them and I followed suit. Before long, we were exchanging names. After the ever-so-snappy meet and greet, we all headed our separate ways into the arena. Within minutes of making it to the arena, Aimee managed to get lost so I clung to Claire and Chloe for dear life. Having only met them a few hours prior to this, it was quite the bonding experience. I watched Chloe get absolutely mauled by a mosh pit that she didn’t mean to find her way into the middle of. Although I felt awful about it, it was so horrifically funny that I couldn’t help but laugh. I watched Wilkinson, Sigma and began to watch The Chainsmokers when we happened to lose Claire so Chloe and I decided to head back to the campsite where we found Aimee. Shortly after, Chloe went missing. Aimee and I decided to look for her but with no avail. However, we ran into Claire who was, at this point, absolutely steaming. We headed back to the tent to find that our Scottish neighbours had returned. We were all saying our ‘hello’s’ when a Scottish accent emerged from their tent saying “Is this your pal in our tent?” I stuck my head into the tent to see a small person in a rainbow, fringed dress laying in a sleeping bag. It was Chloe. We decided to let her sleep while we all sat on our chairs outside chatting. Chloe then emerged again after a while of hiding out in their tent. We all bonded rather quickly, discussing our interests and talking about ourselves and most importantly, THOSE SCOTTISH ACCENTS. One particular guy decided to sleep in our tent with the blow-up mattresses and regardless of how much of a fight I put up, he insisted. One of the other guys then informed me that there was an extra tent and that we should put it up so we could have somewhere to sleep as his tent was severely overcrowded and so was mine. It quickly came to my attention that he couldn’t build a tent either so I took control and essentially bossed him around giving him little odd jobs to do. After constructing my fourth tent in the space of 2 days, everyone retired to their own tents, minus me and the two Scottish dudes, all of which had been displaced due to lack of space. 

The following day, we awoke and sat out on the chairs again, greeting each other with ‘good morning’ and ‘how did you sleep?’ Most of the answers consisted of ‘not very well’ as they were similar conditions to that of a shanty town with our heads each being less than a metre to the person beside us, even if they weren’t in the same tent as us. I, however, slept disgracefully well as the Scottish bloke I shared a tent with didn’t snore like Aimee did and I was completely spacious. We spent the entire day chatting again and it was as if we had known these guys for years. When the evening began to draw in, we brought over the Aussie/Kiwi/Essex neighbours we both had and began to play drinking games before leaving to go to the arena. We all went together as if it were a family day out. We watched Nicky Romero, Dimitri Vegas and Like Mike, Axwell^Ingrosso, Marco Corolla and Camelphat. I headed back to the tent relatively earlier than everyone else as Aimee was not in the shape to be staying out any longer and I’m not going to be an asshole and send her back alone. One of the Scottish dudes decided to come, too. (Coincidentally, it was the one who stole my bed the previous night.) He decided to take my bed for a second night in a row, much to my dismay. As much as I enjoyed sharing a tent with this bloke because he didn’t snore and I had plenty of room, I felt like I was overstaying my welcome and I didn’t want to be an annoyance to him. I also didn’t want to be homeless that night, though, so I climbed into the tent and went to sleep. He was a real gent about it, however, so thanks for that. It was easily one of the best nights of my life. The atmosphere was amazing and everyone was in high spirits, other than a few iffy moments had between Aimee and I. Siblings, amaright? 

The third/final day was just a big bundle of emotions. I woke up feeling rather rough so I was reluctant af to start drinking again but alas, I gritted my teeth and carried on like the trooper I am. The guy I shared the tent with and another of the Scottish lads had to head home early in the morning, so that sucked slightly although I didn’t really mind because it meant I got even MORE space in the tent for my final night. We spent the whole day together again and drinking games in the evening became like a family game night tradition. We played a genius game which involved one individual reading out a word and everyone else had to sing a song line which contained that word. Although awkward at the start, the drunker that people got, the funnier the game got. We then headed out. This was definitely the night that I got the most drunk. I managed to sneak a bottle of Russian standard vodka into the arena and I got paralytic. I vaguely remember watching Alesso, Hardwell and Tiesto. I had a rather huge fight with my sister, again, though which resulted in me getting lost and crying the majority of the time (It had to happen at some point, didn’t it.) I tried to watch Eric Prydz but the tent was so packed out that I didn’t get anywhere near it so I decided to head back to the tent to change. By the time I reached it, it was 10:45 and the arena was due to close at 11:00 so I felt little point in going back. Before long, the campsite began to fill up with people. We sat round in a circle and chatted again. I can just about recall getting political with my conversation and that is often dangerous territory for a drunk version of myself, and for that, I am sorry. I went to bed rather promptly that evening as everyone else began to fade rather quickly and it was an early start the next morning to begin the clear-up operation. I adopted Chloe for the evening as it was freezing and I needed someone else to help heat up the tent. 

Waking up the following morning was an extremely bitter feeling. It was the beginning of the end. I woke up with a jolt of energy as I wanted to get everything as organised as possible as most of my stuff was spread between each of the four tents I had pitched, almost as if I was marking my territory. After we all got our stuff gathered together, it was time to say our goodbyes. We gave each of them a rather emotional hug and a drastic uncertainty if we would ever see any of them again. They all took off and Aimee, Claire, Chloe and I sat down to reflect on our time before picking our stuff up and heading on. We decided to leave our tents and our camping chairs behind as it would have been just too much to carry and we no longer had a need for them. We then took off across the campsite to the car park and then to McDonalds to stuff our faces with food we had been talking about for about 4 hours prior. (F.Y.I, the drive back was EVEN MORE stressful.) We then all parted ways in the ASDA car park and Aimee and I headed off to endure yet another gruelling ferry journey back to Belfast.

All in all, I wouldn’t change a single second of the entire trip. I would even do it all over again if time allowed me to. We couldn’t have met a better bunch of people to spend our time with. The music was amazing and the atmosphere made the experience even better. When we return next year I only hope that it can match how good this year was. 

The only thing I can safely say is that if I ever have to look at another can of Strongbow Dark Fruits in my life, I will cry myself to sleep.

EL xx