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css1992 · 3 years

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Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies – and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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the-everything-lover · 3 years

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The Wall Of Winnipeg And Me

Mariana Zapata

I was going to murder his ass.

One day.

One day long after I quit, so no one would suspect me.

*****

When the edges of his mouth turned down, got tight, and his brown eyes went heavy lidded, all it made me want to do was stick my finger up his nose. It’s what my mom used to do to us when we were little and would pout.

*****

Every once in a while, I even did a little curtsy, which Aiden pretended not to witness.

*****

Regardless, his crankiness had hit a level not previously documented in the history of the universe. That was saying something, considering I’d grown up with three older sisters who all had periods at the same time.

*****

so handsome I might have thanked God for giving me eyes on a couple of occasions.

*****

I wasn’t going to keep my job just because he was giving me the closest thing to puppy eyes pure evil was capable of.

*****

Zac hadn’t made his way back to Dallas yet, so it could only be the big guy looking for his tennis shoes, or when his Canadianisms kicked in—runners.

*****

When life gives you lemons, you get to choose what you make out of them; it doesn’t always have to be lemonade.

*****

“Find someone you like, date them for a little bit or something, and then ask them to marry you. You can always get divorced afterward.” I paused and thought about a distant cousin of Diana’s.

*****

Plus, I didn’t like the vibe he gave off, and I’d learned to listen to my gut when it came to people.

*****

The person who was almost as much of a sister as she was my friend, barked out that familiar loud laugh that was about as close to home as possible. “Fuck you. I only drink two, maybe three times a week.”

*****

“Fart breath, let me call you back later. I, uh, someone’s knocking on my door,”

*****

I might be thinking of myself as being a prostitute, but at least I’d be a prostitute free from debt, wouldn’t I?

*****

When I was a kid, I learned the hard way how expensive the truth was. Sometimes it cost you people in your life. Sometimes it cost you things in your life. And in this life, most people were too cheap to pay the price for something as valuable as honesty.

*****

Sometimes I forgot Aiden didn’t believe in obstacles.

*****

“Could you get my girl a coffee?”

*****

It was a damn miracle. She usually knew I started my period ten minutes after I did. We liked to celebrate another month of not being pregnant.

*****

She knew it was illegal, and we’d always joked that if one of us went to jail, we would both go, so we could pretend to be each other’s lovers.

*****

My foster dad had looked at me from across the table where I’d eaten dinner seven days a week for four years of my life and asked in a serious voice, “You couldn’t have married someone who plays for Houston?”

*****

“What the hell, Aid? I’ve tried calling you a dozen times,” Trevor’s slightly higher tone started.

What did our household smart-ass respond with? “I know. I have caller ID.”

*****

“She’s my wife, and all she’s ever done was watch out for me. Don’t go there, Trevor. You don’t want to go there, understand me?”

I was so freaking making him dinner. Maybe even lunch too.

*****

Eyeing the thunderstorm going on outside through one of the windows in my room, I sighed. I hated driving in the rain, but he rarely asked for any favors… unless they were major, life-changing ones.

*****

“You got married and you didn’t tell me!”

I stayed quiet and kept an eye out on the building to make sure Aiden wasn’t appearing.

“It’s because you think I’d tell everyone, isn’t it?”

That was definitely the wrong question to answer. So I kept my mouth shut.

“You don’t love me anymore? Is that it? Am I old news?”

*****

“I can’t believe you!” She let out a shriek that seemed to echo. Knowing her, she was more than likely in her car. “I’m going to punch you in the cooch.”

At that, my silence ended. “I’d like to see you try.” She hadn’t grown up with my sisters. I knew how to fight a girl.

*****

He gave me a side look that said what he was thinking—you’re an idiot, Vanessa. Instead, he verbally went with, “I’m too tired.”

*****

I had asthma. Since when did I have asthma?

*****

“Please don’t tell Zac. I wouldn’t hold it passed him to hide under the bed when I’m sleeping to try and scare the crap out of me.”

*****

“You have the worst cardio I’ve ever seen,” Mr. No Social Skills claimed, not at all embarrassed that he’d been overheard.

*****

“You want to watch that Dragonballs show?”

I stopped in my tracks when he spoke.

“I’m curious now what a little kid with a monkey tail who can supposedly ‘kick ass’ looks like.”

*****

“It’s ‘Dragonball,’ big guy, and you don’t have to tell me twice.”

*****

I had to really reach down into my spine and pump some steel into it, reminding myself that I knew I hadn’t lied to anyone.

*****

“I don’t care, Van. I’m always going to do what’s best for me. If anyone’s surprised by that, it’s their fault.”

*****

Those brown eyes blinked. “You just flipped him off, didn’t you?”

Yeah, my mouth dropped open. “How do you know when I do that?” My tone was just as astonished as it should be.

“I know everything.” He said it like he really believed it.

I groaned and cast him a long look. “You really want to play this game?”

“I play games for a living, Van.”

*****

Unhappiness prematurely aged a person, my foster mom had told me once. She was right.

*****

I punched him in the arm. “You tell me, big mouth.”

Nosey McNoserson immediately perked up.

*****

You could trust someone and not be their friend… couldn’t you?

*****

“It’s dumb. I’m so happy to see you, and I’m already getting upset thinking about not having you around.”

*****

“But I can’t remember anymore what it’s like to not be happy.”

#mariana zapata #the wall of winnipeg and me #book quotes #quotes #correct quotes #canon #vanessa #aiden #I know no one asked me except myself to do this but i am going to post the collection of quotes i have prepared from the books i have read

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det-loki · 4 years

Text

poison & wine part four

And you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her

But what happens when karma turns right around to bite you?

warnings: angst, cursing

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 3,000

A/N: I don't know why I struggled with this chapter so much but I did. I finally got it to a place that makes me happy though. Again, feedback is welcomed. Enjoy! 💕

1 2 3 ⌽ 5 6

You woke up feeling like death. Your brain was pounding against your skull, eyes sore, body aching, screaming for you to rest. You had no time to rest though. You sprawl your arm, reaching to the opposite side of the bed to hopefully find Loki but to no surprise, it was already vacant and cold. You rolled over to the bedside table, glancing at the clock, 5:46 A.M. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

You stumbled blindly into the kitchen, your feet still heavy with sleep. Every step you took, your body screamed at you to lay back down, stars floating across your vision. You found David sitting at the kitchen table in his work clothes, sitting in silence, rigid. As you walked closer, you took notice of what was in his hands. A photo album.

You almost collapsed on the spot, knees wanting to give out on you, your breath catching on your throat as you inhale sharply. Tears prick your eyes and your lip quivers as you step closer to David and the photo album.

Reaching David, you lay a shaking hand on his shoulder, not daring to peer at whatever photo he was looking at. You knew which photo album it was, the bright pink making your brain foggy, the album stood out like a sore thumb in the minimal gray of the kitchen. You knew if you saw any of the pictures you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for a month. David jumps slightly at your touch, snapping the album closed, a hand coming up to wipe away tears that had fallen down his face.

You moved from standing behind him to sit next to him, your hands finding each other as you sat down in the wooden chair, your body sighing in relief at the position.

"What are you doing, Loke?" Your voice came out as a rasp, crackling and chipping, sounding like sandpaper, disturbing the silence in the kitchen. Your voice sounded as broken as you felt.

"I needed to see her. Remember what we're fighting for. I-I was starting to lose her, her- I was starting to forget what she looked like. What kind of father is that, huh? What kind of father does that make me?" Loki's voice was rough with emotion, each word was a knife through your heart. He was the best father to your little girl, she had him wrapped around her finger since the day she was born. He was soft and tender with her, terrified of breaking her. After finding out you were pregnant, Loki went on a spiral of how he couldn't be a father, he didn’t know how. His childhood was nowhere near ideal, in and out of foster homes and juvenile detentions, his parents a figment of his imagination. He said he couldn’t be good and decent, claiming he was broken and corrupt. The first ultrasound appointment snapped him out of it, tears welled up in his eyes as the sound of your baby's heartbeat filled the room, his hand intertwined tightly with yours. There wasn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for her, the line didn’t exist. You knew somewhere in that photo album there was a picture of him with a pink crown on his head as your little girl was in his arms laughing. The memory caused a fresh wave of pain to hit you.

"That makes you a grieving father who is in pain, Loki. Don't- please don't do this to yourself. She wouldn't want that for you. Or for either of us." The last thing you wanted was for David to fall down the spiraling hole of self-hatred. You could barely keep your head above water and you didn’t want him to drown with you. He deserved better.

"I know. I know. I just miss her. So fucking much, Y/N." David’s voice broke, crackling like static on a radio.

"I know." There was nothing else to say, your brain was a jumbled mess, thoughts not making sense. You knew.

"I went to her grave last week. I wasn't planning on it, I just ended up there. I'm sorry for not telling you, but it felt like something I needed to do alone. And then this fucking case, it doesn't feel real, it can't be a coincidence. It's like the universe knew." His words didn’t upset you, if anything it made you happy, he hadn’t visited her in a long time, he just wasn’t ready and you didn’t want to force him. You visited her regularly, in hopes to apologize or make things right, you didn’t know. The fact that he went made your heart warm temporarily, the cold would creep back in again eventually.

"David, I'm not mad at you for visiting our daughter. I think that's good. I just- this case is eating us alive. We have to make it out of this alive, promise me we will." You needed to hear it, your ears, and heart desperate for a lifeline. Desperate for a life to come back to after this case ended. If it ever did.

“We will. I promise you we will.” David brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, brushing over the small black ink of a snake on your middle finger. You hoped he was right.

Hours later, you sat at your desk reading over the autopsy report of the man found in the priest’s basement. Nothing. Your phone rang loudly in front of you. It was David. You pick it up, nestling it between your ear and shoulder as you reread the report.

“Hey, I’m out here at a house on Fairmount Circle, the house the RV was parked in front of. It’s only been on the market a couple of months. I’m gonna track the owners down, see if they know anything. You got any new info on that corpse we found in the priest’s basement?”

You sighed into the phone, “No DNA, dental or fingerprint matches.”

“Nothing.” David replied in a monotonous tone, sounding fine, a stark difference than he was this morning. He was compartmentalizing, a little too well. You hated it when he did that.

“Priest is sticking to the story, too.” You had gotten report from a fellow detective who took the case, informing you about the priest’s questioning.

Loki scoffed into the phone, frustrated, “All right.”

You look up from your computer to see David walk into the station, walking to his desk opposite from yours. He sat down and immediately started typing. A few minutes pass before he looks over, eyes finding your hunched form, “Come here.”

You rose from your desk, your vision exploding with stars as you made your way over, leaving over his shoulder to read whatever he had been looking at.

The headline read: “Conyers Boy Disappears” dated August 31st, 1987. Barry Milland, age seven when he went missing from his family home.

David spoke below you, “ Let’s go.” You already knew where you were going, to contact the mother of still missing Barry.

You stood in the living room of Mrs. Milland’s home, Loki next to you as she sat in a recliner in front of a TV playing an old home video of Barry. Your fingers dug into your thigh and Loki’s hand was clamped over his mouth, the universe was playing with you, the tape that was playing was mocking the both of you, teasing you for the fact that you have done the very same thing as she was doing now, clutching onto the last good memories.

“Same person who took him took those girls. I’m sure of it.” Mrs. Milland’s voice shook with age as she spoke, eyes never leaving the screen.

The tape temporarily faltered, screen going static before returning to normal, “Wearing out the tape, I guess. I watch it every day after breakfast. It’s the only video I have of him.” She sighs before continuing, “It was before your time. 26 years ago, August 19th. I took a nap in the afternoon, and when I woke up Barry was gone. No one could ever tell me what happened to him. He was playing in the front yard, just a few feet from where they sat that RV was parked.”

God, you wanted to scream. Playing in the front yard and then gone. You were familiar with the pain and shame in her voice, you felt the very same thing every single day.

She speaks again, ripping you away from your thoughts, “What do you think that means?”

Loki raised his eyebrows, shaking his head as he looked at the carpeted ground, “I’m more interested in what you think that means.”

She shook her head, eyes still trained on the screen, “I don’t think we’ll ever know. It’s just like Barry. No one took them. Nothing happened. They’re just gone.”

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, fingers digging harder into the jean covered flesh of your thigh. Gone.

You and Loki sat in the car silently, digesting what you had been told by Mrs. Milland.

"Why are we doing this, David?" You weren’t referring to where you were, rather than what you were. How you got to this point in your life, why?

"What? Here?” David looked at you, confused.

"No. This. This job. This case. Is it to avenge her? Justice? Bring peace to other families like we couldn't have? I love my job, don't get me wrong, but I can't but help but question why is it this case? Why us?” You looked out the car window as you spoke, not catching David’s gaze.

"I don't know. I don't know, but we will get through this. I'm here, Y/N.” There was never a moment David wasn’t there for you, and vice-versa. You both knew each other better than you knew yourselves, able to take care of each other better than you could take care of yourself.

Loki’s phone buzzing in the cup holder made you jump, the bubble that had formed popping, David grabbing for the phone, reading whatever text he had been sent, “We might have something with the priest.”

You stood in the hallway, awaiting Detective Chemelinski to escort you to the priest’s interrogation room as David shifted his weight nervously. The fellow detective showed up, motioning for David to follow. Loki looked at you with mild panic in his eyes, silently pleading for you to follow. He didn’t want to face the priest alone. The memories would be too toxic for him to face without you. You nodded your head reassuringly, following David and Detective Chemelinski into the interrogation room Father Patrick Dunn was being held in.

Loki walked in first, you next, and Chemelinski last. You leaned against the wall as Loki greeted Dunn, “How you doin’, Father?”

“I’m...I’m- getting better.” Father Dunn avoided eye contact with everyone, eyes set on the table in front of him.

Loki sat across from him, “So Detective Chemelinski tells me that you have some specifics about the crime you claim that guy committed. The abductor.”

The priest nodded, “He was...waging a war against God.”

Loki chuckled, looking over at Chemelinski in disbelief and shaking his head, “Great. That’s great. I thought you said he had something specific.” Loki continued to shake his head, stammering at the other detective and gesturing in disbelief in front of him with his hands.

Detective Chemelinski looked at Father Dunn, “Tell him how he took the kids.” If it wasn’t for David wanting you in the room, you would have avoided the conversation, rather having the information relayed than point-blank. This was too raw, images of Loki in the boy’s home feeling like a white hot poker in your brain.

“He said...he took them in the daylight.” You swore you were going to pass out, your hands beginning to tremble at your sides. You wished you were stronger, able to do your job without feeling like you were going to die from the constant resurfacing of horrific memories of your little girl. Broad daylight. Screaming.

Why were you doing this?

The priest continued, “Sometimes...more than one child at a time.”

Loki rolled his eyes, “He said that?” The priest nodded. “-Did he say he was with anybody? He did it alone?”

“He...he said he had a family.”

Loki sighed, “That’s it?” The priest nodded again. Loki stood from the chair, shaking his head at Detective Chemelinski, “All right.” He walked to the door, tattooed hand on the handle, glaring at the detective, “Informative.” He walked out, leaving you to briefly apologize to Chemelinski before you ran to find David.

You found him in the locker room, sitting on the bench with his head in his hands.

You approached him slowly, “Hey, you okay?” It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t okay. Neither of you were okay.

He looked up at you with tired eyes, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed a minute. The candlelight vigil is tonight if you wanna go.”

“I do. It’d be nice.” He nodded along with your words, you turned around and walked out of the room to give Loki sometime to himself. Sometimes silence could be healing, yet you didn’t think all of the silence in the world could heal these wounds.

You stood in front of the microwave watching your mug of coffee spin in circles. Coffee was now the main staple of your diet. It was late at the station, you and Loki being the only few still left. The temperature had dropped outside rapidly, leaving a chill in the air. Loki was outside turning the car on so it would be heating up as you poured coffee in a thermos.

You walked outside with thermos in hand, pulling your coat tighter as the wind bit through your coat. Loki was already inside the vehicle, waiting for you. You opened the passenger door, plopping down as the thermos sat at your feet.

“You sure you wanna go to this thing?” Loki asked gingerly.

“Yeah. Do you not?”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you’re not up for it we can go home. I don’t want you to push yourself.” Loki spoke softly as not to disturb the ambiance inside the vehicle.

“I’m okay, David. I promise. It’ll be nice, show our respect, it’s not like we have to stay long.”

David nodded as he put the car in gear, pulling out of the police station parking lot.

Loki pulled up to the vigil, outside of the Dover’s home. A group of people had already gathered, lighting candles, placing flowers, and teddy bears.

You and David leaned against the car, watching in sorrow. You saw Franklin Birch double over, sobbing as his family held him. Your heart broke at the sight, you wished nothing more than to bring his daughter back unharmed. Each passing day caused unease to spread further and further in your body, day four setting a new record of turmoil.

Time passed as people started to leave, the group diminishing slightly. Beside you, Loki put on a stocking cap and rubbed his hands together for warmth. He still refused to wear gloves. He abruptly pushed himself off the car, walking closer to the vigil, obviously taking notice of something you didn’t. You walked next to him slowly, unsure of what exactly he was doing. Then you saw it, a man crouched down with his coat hood up, stroking a teddy bear that had been placed, his gloved hand gliding over it in a manner that made you uncomfortable. He looked up, locking eyes with Loki, and then stood up stiffly, Loki’s eyes following every move. The man glanced at you and then turned away. Loki walked closer, trying to trail him as the man continued walking away. You had an inkling that he was going to run, so you turned around towards the car as Loki made his way through the crowd.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw David take off in a dead sprint. Fuck.

You opened the driver’s side door of the car and sat down, grabbing the radio from the console.

“Dispatch, this is 13-43, we have a police pursuit on foot, 13-40 is responding. ”

The radio crackled to life, “10-4 detective, we have patrol rolling your way.”

“10-4” You sat the radio down, now all you had to do was wait for Loki to either come back or for him to call you to come get him.

30 minutes later, Loki came into view, slightly limping. He walked up to the car as you got out of the driver’s seat, “You should have stretched.”

Loki shrugged past you, “Yeah, fuck off. Now get out of my spot.”

You chuckled slightly as you walked around the car and pulled the door open and sat in your designated spot. Loki grabbed for the radio with his non-dominant hand, “Dispatch, this is 13-40. Pursuit has ended, the offender fled. Put a BOLO out, description will be given by an officer.”

Loki sighed heavily as he put the radio down, hand coming up to rub his right shoulder, “What happened, David?”

“The fucker jumped on me from a tree. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, Loki could be mauled by a bear and thrown into the ocean and he would still say he was fine. He was even more stubborn than you.

You got home that night at 2 A.M., going to the station after the vigil for David to write up a media release on the guy that ran and to give a description. You tried to get David to let you look at his shoulder but he refused, claiming he was fine, even when moving it he winced slightly.

That night you slept restlessly, dreams of hospitals and antiseptic haunting you. Making you question everything.

tag list: @lexie-wayland @whew-oh-em-gee @winterlavenderskysworld @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee @pinkpunkdynamite

#detective loki #detective loki imagine #detective loki x reader #detective loki fanfic #detective loki fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #prisoners #prisoners 2013 #fanfiction #poison and wine #hugh jackman #keller dover #jake gyllenhaal fanfic

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Riding On

Ch 12- How Very European…

Summary: Frank and Fliss set a date for their wedding and, following her all clear at the six weeks postpartum check-up, she decides it’s time to get a bit frisky…only a little someone has other ideas.

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Ok, so I had a LOT of fun with this one. I have never had a baby myself, but my best friend tells me some hilarious tales about all sorts of stuff- she has no filter…and neither do I in this chapter. I apologise in advance…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 11

Fliss smiled as she stood looking at the stretch of St Petersburgs beach. The sugar white sands, rustic boardwalks, and the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico had made her fall in love with the place when she has first come here with Frank and Mary almost 2 years ago. It was the place her and Frank had sat on one of their early dates eating Mexican and drinking beer…and it was a stunning backdrop for the beach wedding she had always wanted.

"So the Public Access area has a large metered parking lot for you and your guests. Private condominium rentals and boutique hotels are nearby and can be a great option if you and your guests want to walk to your Wedding ceremony." The wedding planner, a small woman named Bobbi spoke "Or if you fancy there's also Pass-a-Grille or Upham..."

"No." Fliss shook her head and turned round, her eyes shining as she looked at Frank who was stood next to her. "I love this part of the beach and it’s special to us. It’s perfect. " Frank's hand tightened around hers and his mouth turned up into a smile. "I like it too." "Well that was easy!" Bobbi smiled "are you 100% sure you don't want to see the others?" "Yeah." Fliss smiled as Frank pressed a kiss to her temple. "Alright." Bobbie nodded. "So, you mentioned next September?" Frank nodded. "We don't need a brunch or reception venue, we got that covered. Just the ceremony." Bobbi nodded and tapped at the tablet she was holding. "Well that makes it a lot easier. Any specific time of day?" "Afternoon." Fliss said. Bobbi hummed before she looked at them "You're in luck. There's a slot at four pm on the twenty-sixth of September. Does that work?" Frank looked at Fliss who nodded. He turned back to the woman and smiled. "We'll take it." Bobbi nodded. "Alright. Do you wanna head back to the car and I can take the details, get the deposit paid?" "Lead the way." Frank smiled. She turned and walked back over the sand, the two of them following hand in hand. It took them about fifteen minutes or so to get the formalities out of the way, but once that was done Bobbi emailed the confirmation over and it was done. They had officially set a date. After she told them a little more about what she would need from them legally over the next few weeks she shook both their hands and said she would be in touch. They both waved her off before Fliss turned to Frank, gave a little shriek of happiness before she flung herself onto his arms. He laughed, picking her up and twirling her round, giving her a soft kiss as he set her on her feet. "Three-hundred and sixty three days to go." She smiled "Sixty-four.” Frank chuckled. "It’s a leap year next year baby." "Details, details..." She waved a hand, her gaze flickering back over the ocean as she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her as the stood looking at the area where they would become man and wife in little under twelve months.

“What time are you meeting Bonnie?” Frank asked, breaking the silence as he checked his watch. She should have been out for lunch with her best friend last but Mary had been violently sick on the Saturday night and really clingy to her, so they had rearranged instead for the following Saturday evening which was now upon them almost.

“Erm, half Seven. Why?” Fliss looked up at him, her shades covering her eyes.

“It’s Four now. Fancy a walk?” he nodded towards the sea.

Fliss hesitated, truth be told she wanted to get back to Alex. This was the first time they’d left him with someone else, and whilst it was her parents and she knew she could trust them implicitly, she was still a little on edge about being apart from him.

“Just a quick fifteen minutes.” Frank softly coaxed, knowing exactly what was on her mind “Then we can go and get the kids.”

Fliss nodded and the pair of them removed their shoes before they linked hands again, stepping onto the sand which was hot on their feet. The pair of them cursed and hopped from foot to foot, mumbling about how they really should know better now as they hurried to the cooler, wet sand, laughing as they walked through the light waves as they lapped around their ankles.

“So where are you going tonight?” Frank asked. “Rio’s.” Fliss replied. “Same as we planned last week. Apparently the new menu is amazing. Has a grill section, we should take Mary one night when Alex is a little older.”

“We could go now.” Frank looked at her “He’s plenty old enough. Feed him before we go, he can sleep whilst we eat.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Why are you so against taking him out?” Frank asked softly.

“I’m not, I take him out during the day.”

“I mean to somewhere like that.” He stopped to look at her. “I’ve suggested it a few times that we take them both out for dinner, a treat for Mary maybe, and you’ve vetoed it.

“I know, and I feel guilty enough as it is, I don’t want Mary to miss out.” “She’s not missing out.” Frank shook his head, “She’s spoiled rotten. I just want to know what the problem is. Talk to me, Honey, please.” Fliss hesitated and took a deep breath “I honestly don’t know. I just, well if he starts crying or he gets unsettled…” “Then we take him outside until he settles and bring him back.” “And if he doesn’t settle?” “Then we get the food wrapped up and take it home.” He shrugged “Lissy, babe, it’s not a big deal. You’re over thinking all of this. He’s a baby, he won’t know where he is, and if he did he wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Sorry.” She mumbled.

“Hey, there’s no need to apologise.” He took both of her hands. “I don’t wanna make you feel bad I just want us to enjoy our family time, you know. I couldn’t do any of this with Mary when she was a baby and I don’t want that for you.”

“I do enjoy family time.” She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what it is Frank. I just feel safer with him at home. There’s no one there to look at me when he starts crying and be sat there judging me about what he’s crying for…” “Babies cry.” Frank shook his head “It’s what they do. Fuck what anyone else thinks.” “I wish I could be as relaxed about it all as you.”

“You keep saying this like I’m some kind of baby guru.” Frank arched an eyebrow over his shades “And I’m not. I had no fucking idea what I was doing with Mary. Still don’t. Look at the mess I made with the court case, sending her into Foster Care…”

“That was different.” “No, it wasn’t.” Frank shook his head. “I did what I thought was best at the time, but I screwed up. And we’re gonna screw up with Alex along the way and most likely Mary again as she gets older, it’s just a fact of life. But as long as they’re happy, safe and loved that’s all that matters.” “I know, I know.” Fliss took a deep breath as they turned to walk again. “I just don’t want to let him down. I don’t want to let either of them down. And I know I’m being stupid, I mean take earlier for example. When we left him with Mum and Dad, I cried for like half an hour.”

Frank chuckled softly. “I know, I was there.”

“Everyone told me I’d be glad to get some time away, but I’m not. I miss him already and…it’s pathetic, I know.”

“No, you’re just a new mom.” He smiled, squeezing his fingers around hers. “It will get easier, I promise.”

“I thought about cancelling tonight.” She admitted. “I was secretly glad last week was a no go, I mean I would have preferred it not to be because Mary was sick but I wasn’t ready. And that’s not because I don’t trust you with him because I do, and I know I’ve left you with him before when I’ve nipped out but it’s just…”

“Lissy, stop.” Frank shut her rambles down, dropping a kiss to her temple. “You don’t need to explain, I get it. Honestly I do, but you said you’re driving tonight so you can leave when you want to. Don’t cancel, Honey.”

“I’m not going to.” She shook her head “Bonnie would kill me. She’s really down at the moment.”

“Yeah?” Frank asked as the continued to splash in the shallow water.

Fliss nodded “She hasn’t told me what’s wrong. I’ll see if I can get it out of her tonight.” Frank pulled her closer, his hand leaving hers as he curled an arm round her shoulder and they continued to walk, talking as they did so. Eventually they reached the part of the beach which curved around the bay and headed over to the boardwalk so they could walk back to the car. As soon as she got back to her parents’, Fliss felt her earlier anxiety ebb away completely as Alex was fast asleep in the bassinet in the kitchen whilst Mary was playing in the pool with Bill and Steve. The entire family was over the moon when they announced they’d booked the date and Verity went off at 100 miles an hour talking about dresses and flowers until Bill gently reached over and squeezed her knee, reminding her it wasn’t her wedding. But neither Fliss nor Frank minded, it was nice to have their family so enthusiastic.

When Frank announced it was time to leave, Mary started protesting saying she wanted to stay the night. Frank refused, as she’d stayed the night before and he didn’t want Bill and Verity feeling obliged, but as usual Verity beamed and told her of course she could say. So they left her there and took Alex home. Once he had been fed, Fliss headed up for a shower and then contemplated what she was going to wear. Whilst she had lost the remainder of her baby bump so to speak, she was still bigger than she had been beforehand so her usual jeans didn’t quite fit yet. When she’d complained to Frank about it and said the last time she had been this size was after her accident, he had gotten a little frustrated at her, telling her that if she dared go on some stupid diet to lose it as fast as she had back then he would be seriously pissed at her. She’d bitten back, snapping at him that she knew it was out of the question. She didn’t want to for starters, as she had been so miserable when she’d been emotionally manipulated into doing so by John, and this time there was Alex to think about. If she was feeding and nursing him she didn’t want to be on some stupid crash diet. Besides which, she wasn’t eating that differently to how she had been before she was pregnant. It was the lack of exercise, as it had been back then. Frank had apologised for snapping, and she’d done the same assuring him that she would be sensible. She knew that she would lose most of it once she could go back to work and start riding again and if she didn’t, well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Frank was constantly telling her she was beautiful and besides, what’s a few extra kilos when you have a gorgeous baby boy to show for it?

In the end she opted for a strapless, floaty lemon dress which she had worn in her early pregnancy days that flared out under her breast line and stopped just above her knees. She paired it with a pair of tan, leather gladiator sandals and left her hair down in the soft waves it dried in post her shower. She applied a little make up, smiling to herself at the fact this was probably the first time she had worn it since she had given birth. All in all, she couldn’t deny it was nice to actually feel like Fliss and not just momma bear even though the two went hand in hand now.

Grabbing her purse and dropping her lip gloss and phone inside she headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Frank was sat on the sofa, Alex napping in the little basket which lay on the coffee table. He looked up, blinking at her appearance and smiled softly.

“You look fantastic.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, heading over to give him a quick peck.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” He offered again, nodding to Alex “He’ll sleep on the way.”

“No, honestly I’m not drinking. Well, maybe just one.” She shrugged.

“Back to grape juice instead of apple, huh?” Frank quipped and she smiled, running her finger over Alex’s rosy cheeks.

“Something like that.” She said, absentmindedly looking at her baby.

“Liss.” Frank spoke in a little warning tone, watching her and she turned to him “Go, we’ll be fine.” “I know, I know.” she nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m going, I promise…” He chuckled and she gave him another kiss before she headed towards the door, she took a final look back at her baby and fiancée, the latter making a shooing gesture with his hands and she laughed, before she turned and walked out of the room. He heard the front door close behind her and let out a sigh of relief. He’d half been expecting her to back out but she hadn’t, she’d gone. Thankfully. He was desperate for her to go out and enjoy herself, she needed to see other people outside of their little family unit, it wasn’t healthy for her to be as isolated as she seemed to have made herself. He’d actually gotten a little worried to the point that he’d even asked his own Mother for advice and she had assured him that Fliss would settle, pointing out that it was nerve wracking being a new mum. He’d been surprised to learn that Evelyn hadn’t left him with anyone until he was almost four months old for fear something would go wrong, and that had comforted him a little to understand that this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It had been slightly different with Diane as she’d leaned on him to help her a lot, but then again most things with Diane had been different.

He leaned back on the sofa, picking up the remote, his eyes falling once more to the basket.

“Just you and me tonight, Son” he muttered, flicking to the TV finding the sports channel, selecting a re-run of a Red Sox game on one of the sports channels. “Time to start your education.” *****

“Oooh, how exciting!” Bonnie exclaimed as Fliss smiled, having just told her about them booking their wedding “It sounds amazing, that’s a gorgeous stretch of beach.”

“Yeah, it’s special to us so…” she smiled, and looked up as the waiter came to take their drinks order.

“Erm, do you want wine?” Bonnie asked.

Fliss hesitated for a second, before she shrugged “Just the one.”

Bonnie smiled and ordered them a bottle of Chardonnay and a large bottle of water. Once the Waiter was out of ear shot Fliss leaned forward “This way I don't need to pump and dump.”

Bonnie laughed “I always find that odd. I mean pumping and dumping doesn't get alcohol out of your system does it?” “No, but if I wanted to go out and get drunk I’d have to wait until I was sure all the alcohol had left my system before I fed him again.” Fliss shrugged “He’s already bottle fed at night so Frank can help and I wake up and my boobs are like fucking water melons so you can you imagine what they would be like after like twelve hours or whatever if I didn’t.” she shook her head. “But one glass, well my mum, midwife and Doctor Google say if I'm not feeding in the next two or three hours I should be ok.”

Their chat turned to Mary’s adoption, Fliss filling Bonnie in on how they’d begun the process legally now, Greg sorting and filing the paperwork and contacting her biological father earlier that week. So far they had heard nothing but they should start to see things progress fairly quickly once he had given his consent.

“And even if he doesn’t, Greg seems confident the court would find in our favour, Mary having been in Frank’s care since she was six months old.” Fliss shrugged, thanking the waiter as he placed the two bottles on the table. “So we’re not concerned, it would just be a lot easier and smoother if he does the right thing, you know?” The waiter finished filling both their glasses then placed the wine in the ice bucket before he then poured them each a water and asked them for their food orders. They placed them, Bonnie opting for scallops and the ribs, Fliss deciding on calamari and the steak. Once he was gone Bonnie looked at Fliss, picking up her glass.

“Do you think he will? Object, I mean.” Fliss paused, pondering for a moment “I don’t think so, I mean why would he? He made no effort to find Mary before the court case and now, even though he knows where she is, he still hasn’t so…” she shrugged, picking up her drink.

“Well…” Bonnie leaned over, holding her wine glass up “Here’s to it going smoothly and your first girl’s night out since becoming a momma.”

Fliss smiled and clinked her glass against Bonnie’s, before she took a sip and let out a soft moan “God that tastes sooo good.” “Well you could always dump the car as well as the milk.” Bonnie gestured to the bottle that lay in the ice bucket and Fliss laughed, shaking her head.

“Maybe next time.” She pulled out her phone and took a snap of her glass, sending it to Frank with the caption “Ok, so it tastes as good as I remember…” before she dropped her phone on the table.

They chatted a little more about general things, what Fliss had in mind for the wedding, the type of dress she thought she wanted, colour for bridesmaids, most of which she couldn’t answer as she had no idea really. It was odd that it was going to be her choice, but exciting none-the-less. At one point, her phone buzzed and she picked it up, letting out a chuckle at Frank’s reply to her earlier message. It was a photo of a beer bottle and a baby bottle side by side on the kitchen counter along with the words “Boy’s night in.” She showed it to Bonnie who gave a snort and Fliss placed the phone down and looked at her.

“So, what’s going on with you? I can tell you’re down.”

Bonnie fiddled slightly with her cutlery, before she shrugged “Simon’s being odd. I mean odder than normal before you say it.”

Fliss smiled and waited for her to continue.

“The last week or so, it’s like his mind is elsewhere. I’m beginning to wonder where it is, or more to the point who it’s with.”

Fliss frowned, her wine glass paused slightly in front of her mouth “You think he’s cheating?”

Bonnie shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know. Something’s going on.”

“I don’t think he would.” Fliss shook her head. “Is he not just stressed with work? Frank can get a little sullen if he’s got a lot on.” “Maybe.” Bonnie mused “He’s just normally so attentive and fun. Oh, ignore me. I’m likely thinking too much into it, it’s probably nothing.”

“You should ask him straight.” Fliss said, looking at her “Tell him how you feel, give him a chance to explain. If there’s one thing the whole Vegas incident with Frank taught me is that things ain’t always what they seem Bon. It’s bound to be something really simple that’s just playing on his mind.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bonnie nodded “I’ll ask him.”

At that point their starters arrived and they both started to eat, and Bonnie grinned. “So, anyway, back to your dress…you’d look fantastic in a straight, little lace number.” By the time they had finished eating and chatting, Fliss was wearing a bright, bubble-gum pink meringue complete with crystals and a sweetheart neckline to get married in-“because, you know- watermelons…” and the bridesmaids were all going to be in lime green. Fliss had told Bonnie to be careful what she was suggesting, as she didn’t think the woman’s skin tone would take kindly to be dressed in such a colour, at which point Bonnie had nearly choked and her eyes had filled as Fliss smiled and nodded, confirming that she’d just asked Bonnie to take the job. After a loud acceptance, Bonnie had jumped up and hugged Fliss, drawing curious glances from the tables around them.

Fliss dropped Bonnie at the condo she shared with Simon, along with an instruction to call her if she needed to chat again, and then she headed back home arriving just after eleven. Letting herself in quietly, she made her way into the family room and paused in the doorway, smiling at the sight in front of her. Frank was led on the sofa, Alex clutched to his chest with two strong hands, the baby boy fast asleep.

“Before you panic…” Frank spoke, making her jump a little “I’m not asleep. Just resting my eyes.”

“I wasn’t panicking.” Fliss said, honestly “I know you’d never let him fall.”

Frank cracked open his eyes and smiled. “You have a nice time?” He asked as she walked towards him. He gently shifted so he was sat up, Alex still held to his chest securely as Fliss sat next to him, peeking at the sleeping baby.

“Yeah, I did.” She nodded “The food was good. We definitely need to go.”

“Did you find out what was bothering Bonnie?”

“Yeah, she said Simon’s being odd with her.”

“Odder than normal?”

Fliss snorted, “That’s exactly what Bonnie said.” She took a deep breath. “She thinks he’s playing away.”

“Si?” Frank looked at her. “No, absolutely not. In fact, she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.”

“What do you mean?” Fliss frowned and Frank hesitated.

“He told me last week, and this cannot go any further as he will kill me, but he’s gonna propose.”

Fliss’ mouth dropped open before her face split into a grin “No shit?”

“Yes shit.” Frank nodded, smiling “Told me when he was drunk in Fergs.” Fliss leaned back against the cushions on the sofa, and her smile slipped a little “Oh crap.”

“What?” “I told her to talk to him, ask him what the problem was.” “Sensible advice in normal circumstances.” Frank shrugged “Don’t sweat it, it’ll be fine.”

“So when’s he gonna ask her?”

“No idea.” Frank shrugged “He didn’t say.”

“Did he not ask for ideas?”

Frank snorted. “I’m the last person he should be asking. I was carrying your damned ring around for weeks trying to find the right moment. I almost did it by the tree at the Rockefeller centre, and then that ass hole beat me to it.”

Fliss gave a soft laugh as she shook her head “The way you did it was perfect.” “Yeah, I got there in the end.” He grinned.

At that point Alex stirred a little, making a few gripey noises before he began to get more restless, rooting against Frank’s T-shirt. “Think he might be hungry.” Frank smiled “Good timing Momma.”

Fliss chuckled and took Alex in her arms, adjusting her top as Frank stood up, heading to the kitchen “You want a drink?” he tossed over his shoulder.

“Yeah, camomile tea if there’s any going?”

Frank put the kettle on to boil and watched from the counter as his girl nursed their baby, a deep sense of contentment brewing in his stomach, along with the usual low-key arousal he felt whenever she was doing anything with their son. Seeing her interact with his baby, the baby she’d carried and given birth to was purely amazing and he loved watching it. He made her a tea, grabbed himself another beer and then sat down next to her as she finished up feeding and he offered to take Alex to wind him as she sorted herself out and had her drink. Eventually he settled again and went back down, leaving the two of them to snuggle up on the couch. They stayed together for half an hour or so before Fliss yawned and said she needed to sleep.

“I’ll take him up. You coming?” she asked.

“I’ll be up shortly.” Frank promised as she sat up, cracking her neck.

“You gonna watch porn and jerk off?” She teased and Frank sighed, shooting her a look.

“You’re not funny.”

“Not trying to be.” She shrugged, leaning over to kiss him softly.

“What would you do if I was?” He mumbled against her lips and she paused, pulling back slightly, arching her eyebrows.

“Well, I’d probably have to remind you that the real thing is much better.” She said, her hand gently cupping at his crotch.

“Okay, you need to stop.” Frank’s voice was a low whisper before he let out a groan as she ignored him completely, her grip growing harder. His hand wrapped gently around her wrist. “Lissy, seriously…” “Oh, shut up.” She mumbled, before she shook off his grip and snaked her hand into the waistband of his shorts, taking his hardening member in her hand. She gave it a light pump or two before she pulled at his shorts, and he lifted his hips slightly to allow her to pull them down.

“Baby, seriously, you don’t-.” His protests died in his throat as Fliss bent down and took him to the back of hers.

*****

“Well, I’m happy that everything seems ok and back to normal.” The Ob Gyn smiled at Fliss as she moved away from where she had been examining her “So if you feel ok in yourself, no physical pain, nothing…” “Nope, nothing at all.” Fliss shook her head

“Well then Miss Gallagher your life can go back to normal” she smiled, “Well, as normal as it is 6 weeks post giving birth.”

Fliss smiled “So I can start riding again?”

“Yup, as long as you make sure you take it easy. As with anything, you won’t have used certain muscles in a while so be careful.”

“Ok.” Fliss nodded.

“Are you going to continue breast feeding?” the woman asked and Fliss nodded.

“Yeah, which is something I wanted to talk to you about. What contraception can I use?”

“There’s condoms obviously, I can prescribe the mini pill or there’s the IUD.”

“Is an IUD safe?” Fliss asked, “I don’t want to use condoms and to be honest, with my baby brain I’ll probably end up forgetting my pill. That’s what led us here in the first place and that was before I’d had a baby.”

The Doctor chuckled. “To be honest, the most effective contraceptives are intrauterine devices and they’re perfectly safe despite what you might read on the internet. The Mirena IUD releases a very small amount of hormone into the uterus, where it works locally and it won’t affect the quality and quantity of breast milk, and it’s also safe and effective for five years. It’s a good choice, one I prefer to recommend when I can.”

Fliss nodded “Ok, that seems like a good choice. How do I get one fit?”

“I can do it now if you want.” The woman smiled “And the best bit is it works immediately.” “Straight away?” Fliss looked at her “So…” “Yep.” The Ob Gyn smiled “You can go straight home and jump his bones if you so wish.”

Fliss laughed, and contemplated the woman’s words for a second. She did want. Truth be told she’d been low key horny since she’d blown Frank off on the couch a fortnight or so ago, but hadn’t wanted to rush anything, choosing to wait instead for the all clear at her 6 week check-up. Now, well, there was nothing stopping them getting physically close again and the thought drew a smile to her face. She couldn’t wait to have her Sailor holding her again.

“Okay, yeah” She nodded to the woman who smiled.

“I’ll sort the paper work, grab my kit and be right back.” The doctor smiled.

Driving home Fliss had all sorts of thoughts about how to make their night special. Romantic candles perhaps, maybe a little nice underwear…that is if she could find any that fit her still.

But of course, best laid plans and all that. In reality, the evening unfolded like any other, with shitty diapers, breast pumping, and a dinner eaten while taking turns bouncing a six week old baby in their laps as he had chosen that particular night to be awkward about settling after his feed, it was almost as if he could sense what Fliss had in mind and was doing his best to veto her plans.

Around nine pm once Mary was in bed and Alex had been bathed, changed and fed, Fliss slipped away to prepare her body for its first round of postnatal coitus. She took a bath to unwind and shaved her armpits and legs. She also considered tackling her lady bush, but realized that her razor wasn’t sharp enough for that jungle right now so Frank was just going to have to deal with the crotch afro if he wanted a bit.

She climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself in her robe, heading into the bedroom where she dried off and set about her skin care routine before she decided to go the whole hog and paint her toenails a deep crimson colour, replacing the shimmery baby pink that she had done a few weeks ago as celebration she could finally see her damned feet again. Then she shed her robe and stole a quick look in the mirror. All things considered she conceded she didn’t look too bad. She wasn’t so much bothered by the extra pounds but more so slightly disturbed by the way they seemed to have positioned themselves on her body. It was almost like small, flesh-coloured bread loaves stapled to her belly. But, like she knew she could sort most of that out with riding and getting more active again, what she wasn’t sure exercise would do anything for was her breasts. They were large, which in itself wasn’t a problem, on the contrary in fact, as Frank was a self-proclaimed boob man, but her nipples had starburst over her breasts without any clearly definitive ending points. She was debating whether or not to try and put a little foundation on them, to tone down the nipple extravaganza but stopped herself, realising she was being utterly fucking ridiculous.

This was Frank she was preparing for. The man she’d been with for years, her fiancée whose baby she had carried and given birth to. And she knew he loved her, starfish nips or not.

She set about finding some suitable underwear. She had a few nice sets, some she had bought for herself, some Frank had purchased for her but as she laid them out on the bed she knew she wouldn’t feel comfortable in any of them. Continuing her search she finally found a pair of black lace briefs that skated along her ass cheeks and a black sheer negligee that she had worn a few times pre- pregnancy, in particular one very raunchy night where she’d surprised Frank by wearing it in the kitchen one evening when Mary had been at Roberta’s, cooking their dinner as if it was perfectly normal to be dressed that way. Dinner had ended up burnt, the smoke detectors going off, and they’d sat curled up with a Thai take out and all the windows open in an attempt to rid the place of the smell of cremated lamb chops and potatoes.

She shimmied into it, and to her delight it fit, even if her breasts were a little larger. They spilled over the top but her cleavage looked Elizabethan in a sexy way, and she grinned as she knew exactly what Frank was going to say about that. Finally, she removed her hair form its high bun, which had served nicely to give it some volume and fluffed it up and decided that the overall effect was actually pretty good.

She lay back on the bed, grabbed her phone and turned it into selfie mode, angling it just right so that she could get the full effect before she checked it, and fired it to Frank with a downright filthy message accompanying it and lay back to wait.

***** Frank had nodded when Fliss had said she was tired and needed to go to bed, and promised he’d be up in an hour or so, wanting to give her the time to just unwind. She’d been for her 6 week check-up and had assured him that everything was fine, but her general demeanour told him she was keeping something from him.

Trying not to think about it too much, he settled Alex down and flicked over to catch a re-run of Game of Thrones. It was the Battle Of The Bastards, his favourite episode of the entire series, and he was just mumbling to himself, calling Rickon Stark a ‘dumb ass mother fucker’ for not zig-zagging when his phone went. He absentmindedly reached for it, wondering if it was Simon telling him he’d finally grown a pair of balls and proposed, but it wasn’t, it was Fliss.

He opened the message and as soon as he saw the image he spluttered and the soda he had just taken a drink of dribbled straight down his shirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He choked, wiping at the spilled Fanta, as he stared at the photo. His girl was led on the bed, in a sheer negligee, her hair fanning over the pillow, eyes bright and mischievous and the shot was angled to give a perfect shot of the top of her cleavage. It was accompanied with the words. “Oh I forgot to tell you, your favourite legs are back open for business…”

“You devious little minx, Miss Gallagher.” He mumbled, suddenly understanding exactly what it as she’d been hiding from him, and his cock stirred in his pants. In a flash her was up off the sofa, shoving Thor out of the door so he could pee before he locked up, gathered Alex in his arms and made his way up the stairs as fast as he could, letting the dog into Mary’s room as he was scrambling at the door to get in.

“What kept you?” Fliss asked as he walked into the room, gently placing Alex in the bedside crib, making sure the blankets were arranged carefully.

“Well you kinda caught me off guard.” He smirked, lifting an eyebrow as he gently lowered himself over her on the bed, tugging her hips and pulling her down slightly before he propped himself up on his elbows, caging her between his arms and legs. “You look sexy as fuck, momma bear.” Fliss let out a grin as his lips met hers, and his eyes lowered to her cleavage and he gave a groan. “And I’m not supposed to touch these?”

“No.”

“At all?”

“Not unless you want a face full of milk.” She looked at him.

“Is it strange I find that a little kinky?” Frank grinned and she blinked, shaking her head with a snort.

“You have issues.”

“Yeah and right now they’re in the trouser department.” He mumbled, dropping his lips to hers “I nearly choked when you sent me that message.”

“You like?” She purred gently and he let out another groan and nodded.

“I did, I do. A lot.” His lips pressed to hers again. The kiss quickly became heated, his hands tangling in her hair has he held her head still, and then he felt her pull away a little, and he frowned as she looked at him, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

"Is it weird that we’re like gonna have sex with our baby in the same room? Can he see us?” she asked, her head rolling to look at Alex. "No, he can't even focus yet, and it’s not weird. I’m a modern man.” Frank replied, his hand cupping her cheek and turning her face back to his. “This is how it’s done. It’s probably very European of us actually." "Frank I'm from England." She rolled her eyes. "Lissy." Frank sighed softly, “Look, if you don't wanna..."

“No I do, I really do.” She took a deep breath “Sorry, I just…” “It’s okay.” He gave her a soft smile, before his lips found hers again. In between the dizzying kisses Frank moved his right hand, his fingers gently tracing up the outside of her thigh and under the hem of the sheer lace slip she was wearing, and his mouth moved to lightly trail kisses across her bare collar bone. With a soft sigh she nodded, acknowledging his unasked question and his lips moved downwards peppering warm, open mouthed pecks across the swell of her cleavage, careful to take his time and stay gentle. Fliss let out a shaky whisper of his name, her hands tangling into his hair as he moved his affections upwards slightly, skimming his nose up her sternum, nudging her chin back so he could turn his affections back to her neck. This time her gentle whisper became a loud groan which she stifled with her hand as he nipped at her neck and he felt her shiver underneath him.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, looking down at her. She nodded and with a wicked quirk of his eyebrow he stood up, scrambling out of his clothes as fast as he could before he fell forwards again, his hands pulling down her underwear, lips kissing at the spot just below her ear.

Fliss was utterly gone now, consumed by the sensations she hadn’t felt in so long and she tilted her head back, sighing softly as Frank continued to nibble at her neck, settling himself above her. His fingers gently dropped between her legs and he felt her slick against the tips as he gently coaxed at her clit, continuing until she was nothing short of a writhing mess clawing at his back, aching for him. They locked eyes as he took her left hand in his, and slowly worked into her, both moaning simultaneously at the sensation, Fliss’ eyelids fluttering shut as she felt him fill her before the flickered open again and she looked up at him.

“Go steady.” She whispered and, with a gentle nod, Frank began to move his hips slowly, displaying nothing but absolute tenderness in his thrusts which weren’t measured in the slightest. His free hand kept hold of her hip, keeping her as close as she could possibly be, enjoying the sensation of once more being inside her, in top of her, surrounded by her.

Meanwhile, Fliss was just as lost, but in her own thoughts. For some reason as good as she had felt before, now she was starting to panic a little, that stupid voice in her head mumbling all sorts of dumbass thoughts.

Okay, this feels familiar. Sex feels the same. Does it feel the same for him? Is he taking longer than normal? Oh shit, maybe I’m super stretched out and it’s terrible. Maybe I’m different now, and I’ll never be as good. Maybe I was never THAT good to start with though? I’ll ask… “Is it good? Is it the same as it was?” She gasped out and Frank stilled, looking down at her.

“What?” He panted slightly. "I asked does it feel the same? I mean..." Frank leaned down, gently rubbing his nose against hers. “It’s great … it feels really good.” He reassured her and she nodded.

“Okay, you can go a bit faster…”

“I don’t want to.” He mumbled, giving her a deep kiss. And he didn’t. He was enjoying the slowness of it all, and he kept his lazy thrusts aimed perfectly on her spot, drawing those delectable sounds from her throat. Fliss’ senses were on fire, and she broke the long, lazy kiss that they were sharing to stifle a moan against his shoulder when she felt herself starting to unravel.

And then…

A loud cry came from the basinet. They both stilled, looked at one another, and glanced over to the side of the bed. Silence, no movement bar the waving of a little arm.

"He's going to cry.” Fliss stuttered between her deep breathing “If he cries, do we stop? Is it child abuse if we keep going until we finish?" "He's stopped." Frank turned his head back to her. “What if there's something wrong and we’re here just boning."

Frank shut her up with a languid roll of his hips and she gave a soft gasp, her hands grasping at his biceps.

“Liss, he’s fine.”

“'We’re the kind of negligent parents…oh fuck.” She whimpered as he tilted his hips again. “The one’s you’d see in a movie like Trainspotting."

He shook his head, pulling out a little before he sank back into her, her body moving with his slightly and she looked up at him.

“When the police ask what happened, do we lie? Or do we say we were having sex while our baby quietly suffocated a few feet away?”

“For fucks sake Lissy.” Frank spluttered in frustration. “You gave me a blow job the other week on the sofa and he was asleep in the basket on the coffee table.”

“That was different” “How?”

“We were on the couch and I wasn't naked.” “You’re not naked now.” He shook his head. “Will you shut up and let me make you feel good?” Her random, stupid worries stopped and she closed her eyes, nodding, and he started his movements again. It didn’t take him long to get them back to where they were, his thrusts deep and he picked up his pace ever so slightly, her hands flying to his bare back as she gripped him tighter, wanting to feel all of him, as close as she possibly could. His lips found hers and she took the kiss, it left her breathless as the heat began to rise in her belly and she let out a soft moan, which he swallowed with his mouth where it morphed into his own low, mumble of her name as he felt her clench around him.

The sheets rustled underneath them both as their pace continued slow and languid until the very end when Fliss’ let her head tip back, her throat bared to Frank in utter bliss as she came hard, the world spinning around her, her moans soft and breathy as her legs trembled, sheer pleasure spearing through her entire body. At that, after actively fighting back his high for what felt like an age, Frank gave a low grunt which tuned into a gasp as he clung to his girl, spilling himself into her, his hips slowing to a stop as he collapsed forward.

“That was fucking great.” His voice was muffled as his face pressed into her neck, and Fliss felt herself flush. She let out a chuckle as her hands gently slid up his back and into his hair.

“Yeah, we still got it Sailor.” She quipped and it was Frank’s turn to chuckle as he moved and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

And then Alex did erupt into a full on screaming fit. Frank found himself thanking his son that he’d at least had the good grace to wait until he’d finished. He rolled off Fliss, landing on his back, hand running through his hair as she sat up and scooped Alex into her arms, sitting up against the headboard with him held to her, in the bed where his parents’ sinful deeds were likely still detectable. Frank looked at her, then to Alex whose tiny face was creased up in a loud wail as Fliss held him to her chest, trying to soothe him and he arched an eyebrow. "I take it the post sex snuggling is out?"

**** Chapter 13

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

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Collide Part 1 || Sidney Crosby

Summary: Life as a single foster mom and a pediatrician didn’t leave much time for dating. But when Dr. Erin Lancaster becomes the pediatrician for Pittsburgh Penguins Defenseman Brian Dumoulin's baby boy, her association and quick friendship with his wife Kayla turns her crazy but quiet life upside down.

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Welp...I could have had a baby of my own in the time it took me to write this update...I know quite a few of you have been clamoring for it so I hope it was everything you could have imagined. I’m still not sure I have Sid’s personality down...you’d think I’d be able to write my captain better considering he was the first hockey player I ever wrote about but...at least he’s present in this part.

Warnings: discussion of opiate-addicted infants

Word Count: 2,416

~~~~~~~~~~~

Though my initial meeting with the Dumoulin’s had gone well in my mind, I was still somewhat surprised to step into the office a week later to find Alex practically bouncing off the walls. Taking a sip out of my coffee mug I merely raised an eyebrow at her, an inquisitive look spreading across my face.

“Don’t get me wrong...I know you’re an incredible doctor but this...this is huge and I don’t know how you did it!” She exclaimed, handing me a stack of papers. Glancing down at them revealed a completed new patient packet, sans baby’s first name, for the Dumoulin’s pending arrival and though mentally my jaw dropped, I outwardly brushed it off, pretending that it wasn’t nearly as big of a deal as it actually was.

“It’s just another patient Alex.” I reminded her. “He’ll receive the same care as every other patient.” Shaking her head, Alex rolled her eyes at me knowing exactly what I was doing. As I turned on my heel to retreat to my office for twenty minutes of paperwork before our first patient I couldn’t help but smile. “Let the rest of the nurses know they can wear penguins shirts for the home opener.” Her laugh followed me down the hallway and once inside my office I took a moment to bask in scoring my first VIP patient. This could do wonders for my practice moving forward.

___

That was the last time I’d really thought about having a Pittsburgh Penguin baby as a patient. At the office, I had too many other patients to worry about. At home, I had a five-year-old who had started school for the first time and a seven-year-old who was struggling with math. I was balancing work, helping them with school, and making sure that they had time to do kid things like attending karate and swim lessons, not to mention play dates with other kids. Time was moving faster than I could keep up with but at the same time, I prayed for it to slow down. Life as a foster mom meant that I needed to cherish every moment with these crazy boys because I knew that sooner or later they would likely be leaving my care. And that was a whole bundle of emotions that I would never fully be able to handle no matter how many times it happened.

Before I knew it, it was already November. Today was supposed to be my afternoon off, yet I found myself headed downtown to Magee Women’s Hospital.

After checking in at the front desk, I clipped my visitor’s pass onto my blouse and followed the familiar path up to the NICU. Once there I was greeted by one of the nurses I’d gotten to know from the various times I’d been here before. After gowning up, I stepped inside and she led me over to a bassinet containing a tiny baby boy. He was still hooked up to a variety of wires and tubes, his skin was mottled, and his body tremored. Looking down at him, the maternal side of me teared up. No child deserved to enter the world in this kind of pain. Reaching down, I brushed a finger over his head before trailing it down his arm to his hand. Immediately he wrapped his fist around my finger and held on tight.

“He’s a fighter.” The nurse murmured over my shoulder. “We honestly weren’t sure he was going to pull through but I’d say for the most part he’s out of the woods now.” Nodding I just watched him for a few more minutes before switching back to a more professional mode.

“Tell me about his history. Everything I need to know.” I expressed. As his nurse told me about the methadone injections he was receiving but would likely need even after he left the hospital and how his condition had been steadily improving, I listened carefully, figuring out the best plan for once he was released into my care. Brushing my fingers over the baby’s head once more, I eventually made my way out of the NICU, tossing the scrubs. It would likely be another week or so before he was ready to be released but once he was, he would be coming home with me for the foreseeable future so that he could continue to have expert care while residing in a home setting.

Checking my watch revealed that I had another hour and a half or so before I needed to pick my boys up from their various activities. As I debated what to do with that time, I fixed my hair into a fresh ponytail before moving to pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans.

“Dr. Lancaster?!” Glancing up, I saw that it was one of the nurses in the maternity ward that had called my name. Moving over to the nurses’ station I smiled at her, leaning against the counter.

“Yes?” I inquired.

“Oh good, that is you.” The young nurse murmured softly. “Melinda said you were down in the NICU…” She explained. “I was looking through the paperwork for one of our newborns and I noticed you were the pediatrician of record. Just thought I’d give you a heads up.” She expanded. “They’re down in room 314 if you wanted to pop in and say hello.” Before she had even finished speaking she was dashing off down the hall in the opposite direction as a scream sounded from one of the delivery rooms.

For a moment I stood frozen, honestly racking my brain trying to figure out what patient she was talking about. Then I started off in the direction of 314, deciding that I would just have to wait and see. It wasn’t until I noticed that this wing of the maternity ward was nearly empty that the most likely possibility clicked. Clearly keeping track of due dates was not my strongest skill...generally because I usually didn’t need to.

Approaching the room I heard soft voices speaking and I gently knocked before popping my head in. Immediately my eyes met the sight of Brian perched on the bed over his wife, newborn in her arms.

“Are you up for visitors?” I whispered. “I won’t stay long, I was just in the building and a little birdie told me you were here so I thought I’d stop by.”

Kayla’s voice was soft and tired but she quickly nodded. “Of course. Come in, come in.” She insisted. Stepping into the room I shut the door behind me and moved quietly across the room.

“How are you feeling?” I asked her. “Everything go fairly smoothly?”

“Sore. Tired.” She declared. “But he’s here and we’re both healthy so I’d say it went okay.”

“Good.” I murmured. Before I could say anything else, another knock sounded at the door and another head popped in. This time, Brian moved to stand up and as a body came through the door, I watched as the two of them hugged each other, arms moving around the flowers in the new visitor’s hand. It wasn’t until they pulled away that I realized who this visitor was and immediately my throat went dry.

“Hey, Sid.” Kayla breathed, shifting the baby a bit in her arms.

“These are for you. The team sends their love and congratulations.” He responded, moving over to give her a quick half-hug as well. It was only then that he noticed he wasn’t the only visitor in the room and paused.

“Sid, this is our pediatrician Dr. Lancaster. Dr. Lancaster, this is Sid.” Brian introduced. Suddenly a warm hand was reaching out to me in greeting and I took it, frantically trying to pull myself back together. Meeting Brian was one thing, meeting Sidney Crosby...that was another entirely.

“Nice to meet you,” Sid said, his voice familiar but yet different at the same time.

“The pleasure is all mine. But it’s just Erin.” I replied, taking a deep breath before turning back to Kayla and the baby. “Do you mind if I look at his chart?” I questioned, professional curiosity filling me. Of course, it was only a matter of time before these records were sent to me anyway, but with a nod from Kayla, I reached for his chart beside the bassinet, looking over his APGAR scores and the nurse’s notes. Nodding to myself for a moment, I set it back down and smiled.

“Sounds like you’ve got a strong, healthy little boy there.” I declared. Parental pride filled both Kayla and Brian’s faces at the compliment.

“Do you want to hold him?” Kayla asked, and never one to turn down having a baby in my arms I quickly agreed, gently shifting him to cradle against my chest. Looking between him and both Kayla and Brian I tried to determine who he looked the most like right now and when I expressed that he had Brian’s nose they both laughed.

“Have you guys picked a name?” Sid inquired from his spot leaning against the foot of the bed. Brian quickly nodded, glancing down at his wife before sharing.

“Brayden Joseph.” Glancing down at the baby in my arms I immediately decided that the name suited him and murmured softly to him in greeting, introducing myself as his doctor and expressing that I didn’t expect him to like me at first because of the required shots to keep him healthy. This time, when I looked up from talking softly to the baby Kayla and Brian were sharing a soft look as he whispered in her ear and I could feel Sid’s gaze on me. Meeting his eyes I saw warmth but also a lingering sadness and I quickly drew my bottom lip between my teeth as I broke the gaze suddenly feeling like I had a stomach full of molasses.

“So Dr. Lancaster…” Sid addressed. “Do you make hospital visits to all of your new patients?” I couldn’t tell by the tone of his voice what he was thinking or why he had asked. It wasn’t quite accusatory but at the same time, there was a tenseness to it. Deciding that I just didn’t know him and therefore shouldn’t read into it, I shrugged softly.

“Only when I happen to already be in the building.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that….everything okay?” Brian jumped in.

“Of course. I was here in a semi-professional manner.” I explained. “I needed to stop down at the NICU to meet a baby that I’ll be fostering when he’s released so that I could figure out what I need and discuss the best care plan.”

“Dr. Lancaster...Erin…” Kayla quickly corrected, nodding at me for my approval. “In addition to being an incredible doctor, is also a foster parent, Sid.” There was an underlying current of unspoken communication going on between the three of them, one that I wasn’t going to pry into.

“So you’ll have a newborn at home in addition to the other two?” Kayla asked as Brayden started fussing causing me to hand him back to his mom.

“Lord help me but yes.” I breathed, chuckling softly. “I’ll have three boys. Two rambunctious ones that keep me on my toes and then this new baby which might be the hardest to deal with of all three. I love when I get babies into my care but hate when it’s because they were born with opiate addiction and need specialized care just to stand a chance.” Both Kayla and Brian’s eyes went wide and I shoved my right hand into the front pocket of my jeans. “I’m not gonna lie, he's still in rough shape but the nurses think he’s out of the woods now. It always breaks my heart seeing them that way though. Knowing I’m going to have to give him daily injections for at least a few more weeks to help his body slowly withdraw from the drugs he’s been exposed to.”

“Wow.” This time the voice came from Sid and I nodded glancing over at him.

“It breaks my heart but I’ll do it again and again because I know that my experience and ability to provide elevated care and monitoring gives him the best chance moving forward.”

The mood in the room had taken a turn for the serious and I let out a deep breath before pasting a smile back on my face.

“It makes me even more grateful though for all of my patients that have fantastic momma’s and who are healthy and strong.” I tease, my words thankfully bringing a smile back to Kayla’s face and then Brian’s along with his wife’s.

Feeling my phone buzz in my pocket, I glance at my watch again and mumble a curse.

“And this was already longer than the short visit I promised, but I have to get going, I’ve got a seven-year-old to pick up from karate and then I have to make dinner for him and the five-year-old being dropped off from a play date.”

“Thank you for stopping by.” Brian declared, moving over to shake my hand.

“Of course. I’ll see you guys soon.” I promised. Still, there was something about the look on Kayla’s face that made me pause though I did need to leave. “Hey, Brian...grab your phone.” Once he had, I rattled off my cell phone number. “If you guys have any questions, concerns, etc. Things that you think it would be too silly to call the office over, text or call me. I know first-time parenthood isn’t easy but you’re gonna be great.”

As I headed for the door, I turned for just a moment.

“And it was nice to meet you, Sid.”

It wasn’t until both boys were tucked into bed and I was settled into my own trying to get my mind to shut down so I could sleep that the encounter with Sid entered my mind once more. It wasn’t something I could wrap my mind around, his behavior struck me for reasons I couldn’t explain but at the same time, I couldn’t get the feeling of his hand in my own or the swirling shades of his eyes out of my head. It was a level of confusion I just didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with so I brushed it aside, refocusing my brain on all of the things I needed to get done tomorrow.

Outfit Inspiration:

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #pittsburgh penguins #pittsburgh penguins imagine #019 #ppenguins

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penwieldingdreamer · 4 years

Text

Caring Makes You Weak

So, as there are too few Harvey Specter Stories and inspiration finally striked again while rewatching Suits I decided to rework an old story of mine and post it on here, too.

Hope you guys will like it. Let me know what you think. If you want to be tagged, just let me know.

Also shout out to my beta @fortheloveoffanfic

Summary: Harvey Specter, best closer in New York City and Senior Partner at Pearson Hardman, the man most females in the city want, yet he himself doesn't want commitment, because caring makes one weak. Enter Elle Howard, a woman he met a long time ago. Will she be the one to break down his walls and make him care?

Words: 1704

(Coverart still pending)

"Mommy? Can we see daddy today?" the three-year old's question sounded from the back of the car as the young mother was on her way to drop her two children off at daycare and school.

A deep sigh left Elle's lips when she stopped at a red light. "I don't think he's got time today." she said, keeping her mouth shut about her ex-husband's questioning ability to spend more than five minutes with his kids.

"He doesn't have time because he doesn't want us anymore, Izzy, he's got a new family." her son ranted angrily. Ever since Travis and her had split up, the seven year old pulled away from her. He was easily irritated and his grades were suffering. Elle wasn't able to spend as much time with her children as she used to when she was still married to Travis Tanner. During that time she used to be a stay-at-home-mom, but now she had to work odd jobs to keep her kids in the same facilities as they were right now. She didn't want to take that away from them when they already had so much on their plate.

"Charles Henry Tanner, stop it. Don't talk like that to your sister." she called, only just taking her eyes off the road for the fraction of a second. It was enough time for the light to change again and another car speeding towards them.

Mike raced towards Harvey's office, the files tightly gripped in his hand. His heart was racing, reading through the Pro Bono. Donna looked up from her desk, her eyes widening when she saw the associate come running down the hallway.

"Mike!" she called, getting up from her chair. "What's going on?"

He held up his hand and stormed into the office. "Harvey, I need your help."

Looking up, the closer opened his mouth but closed it again when he saw the wild look in Mike's eyes. "What the hell are you doing storming in here?" Ever since the younger man had lost his beloved Grammy and the problems with Daniel Hardman, Harvey had been irritated to no end, not even Donna being reinstated had helped lighten his mood.

"Louis gave me that case. I can't take it." he answered, putting the folder onto his boss' desk. He raked his hands through his hair, pacing in the office, his long strides taking him from the corner window to the door and back again.

Harvey took the files, reading through the case notes, cursing on the inside, while not showing his own reaction to his associate. "So? What do you want me to do about this?"

"This is a custody case. I never did that and it's Tanner's ex-wife." the younger man argued. "He's going to rip this case apart. There's no chance I can beat him."

Leaning back in his chair, Harvey Specter watched his associate. He knew what he was capable of, but Travis was a pitbull in court. "How about you talk to his ex-wife and get started, I'll look into the rest of the case."

"Elle's my neighbor, Harvey." Mike told him, falling down into the chair in front of the desk. "When I lose that case, she's going to lose her kids. Tanner doesn't even want to spend time with his kids anymore, he's got a new family now. They might as well end up with a foster family."

Rubbing his chin, the lawyer turned around and looked out of the window. "What exactly happened?"

"Actually I would have loved to have you come with me to ask that question."

"Mike, I can't"

"I cleared your schedule, Harvey. You should go with the puppy." Donna's voice sounded over the intercom, the smile on her lips clear as a day.

Harvey turned to the glass wall of his office, seeing his secretary looking at him. He raised his eyebrow, giving her a warning look. "I thought we had an agreement about you listening in." The redhead just shrugged her shoulders and gave him her typical 'Donna' look. "Right, let's go ask some questions."

Together, the lawyer and his associate stood in front of Elle Howard's apartment, the one just down the hall from Mike's.

"Harvey, please be gentle this time. They took the kids from her as soon as they were checked out from the hospital." he told his boss, fidgeting with his tie.

Rolling his eyes, the closer hit him in the chest. "Stop it, Mike. You know her, what are you nervous about?" He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"I just don't want to let her down, you know." he answered, looking at his boss and friend.

Before he could answer, the door opened and Harvey felt his breath catch. It wasn't that he was shocked by the beauty of the woman leaning in the doorway watching them closely, not that she wasn't beautiful even with the cuts and bruises on her face and body, but he remembered those eight years ago. "Elle."

"Harvey."

Swallowing, the closer and his rookie entered the apartment after the redhead. Mike gave his friend a questioning look before he shook his head. "You know her?" he angrily whispered, pointing his thumb at Elle. Harvey just shook his head and walked over to the couch where the younger woman was already seated.

"So, Tanner and you?" he opened his questioning, leaning back on the couch next to his associate.

Chuckling softly, Elle looked over at the lawyer. "That's what your first question is going to be? I thought you'd at least have the nerve to ask me how I am doing."

"Elle, listen, I'm sorry that we showed up like this, can you tell us what happened the day of the accident?" Mike intervened, sending his boss and mentor a dark look.

Brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the mother-of-two sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say? I'm just happy that my kids are fine and didn't get hurt. Do you have any idea when I can see them again?"

Clearing his throat, Harvey watched her closely. "Your ex-husband has filed for custody, Mrs Tanner, also banned you from seeing the children until trial is over."

"I'm going by Howard now, already done that for the last two years." Elle bit back, fidgeting in her seat, when she felt tears spring to her eyes. "I didn't do anything wrong for that jerk to deny me my kids. He didn't even want them in the first place, Travis gave me sole custody but no money for Izzy and Charlie."

Getting up from the plush couch she moved over towards the window, looking down at the numerous picture frames showing her wonderful children. They were her life and not having them here with her was tearing her up inside. "It was only a second." she started, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Harvey watched her closely, remembering the weekend they had spent together, while his associate rested his eyes on him. Never in his life would Mike have believed that the notorious Harvey Specter would show emotion, besides that one time they were smoking pot in his apartment. "Izzy wanted to see Travis, I told her that he didn't have time, like always and Charlie, he's been so angry ever since we split up. I just, the light was green when we drove off and it, I only just turned my head to look at Charlie. Next thing I know both my kids are standing outside, next to the car with the EMTs while the FDNY is pulling apart my car."

"Okay, please don't think I'm being rude but I have to ask." the associate started, earning raised eyebrows from his boss. "Were you drinking or taking medication that would lead to any failure of sight or control of your body."

Shaking her head, Elle turned back to the lawyer and his protégé. "There were no drugs and no alcohol, the only thing I took was some mild medication for my headache."

"That, that's good. We can work with that. We'll have to check the traffic cameras, there might be something there that police missed in the beginning." Mike told her, adjusting his shoulder bag before both Harvey and he stood up. "We'll get back to you as soon as we got something for the case."

The lawyer buttoned up his jacket and nodded at his associate to wait outside. "I'll be right there, Mike."

"I'm glad he finally got his life together." Elle said, looking over at the closed front door.

Clearing his throat, Harvey watched the mother-of-two. "How have you been doing?" It had been a while since he saw her but she hadn't changed one bit. "It's been a while, Elle."

"I got married to a dick head, he screwed me over with his secretary and now he took my kids away. I'd say I'm doing quite good." she pointed out, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, knowing if he'd move just one muscle he'd compromise everything they'd need to work for. "I'm sorry about Tanner, I had the privilege to meet him twice now and the last time I decked him."

"Good for you, Harvey, he probably deserved it." Elle whispered, not knowing how to act around him. "So - uhm - do you think I got a chance to get my kids back?"

"We're going to try everything in our power to win this."

She raised her eyebrows at the dark haired lawyer. "Try?"

"Do." he corrected, "We'll do everything to win. Mike is the best and brightest associate Pearson Hardman ever had."

Giving him a small smile. "I'm glad you took my case. I trust Mike, and I trust you. All I want you to do is give it your best, I don't want my kids ending up with a foster family."

"I promise." Harvey said moving toward the door, opening it and watching his associate fidget in the hallway. "Ready to tackle Tanner?"

Mike turned to his boss, already seeing the determination written across his face. "We're tackling him?"

"He ain't gonna know what hit him."

#Harvey Specter #harvey specter x ofc #harvey specter imagine #suits imagine #gabriel macht #gabriel macht imagine

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beca-mitchell · 4 years

Text

i think you should come live with me (1/1)

Summary: Chloe and Beca at age 7 begin to learn more about the notion of family and what that means for both of them.

Part of the daylight au. You can thank @asimplefavors for this because she texted me, inspired by “seven” by Taylor Swift...fic title from that very song.

Word count: 2,345

Read below or on AO3

* * * * *

LOCATION: Brookline, MA MONTH: August/September AGE: 7

* * * * *

Beca’s parents start fighting close to the end of their first year in Brookline. It starts off small. Little arguments here and there, sometimes involving Beca, but mostly involving their own unhappiness with each other.

It only escalates from there, Beca seeing less and less of her father as he stays late at work. Teaching, according to her mother, but she picks up something different in her mother’s tone that she doesn’t like. She often chooses instead to focus on her food, too afraid to ask once more why daddy isn’t coming home once again for dinner.

Now, two years into living in Massachusetts, Beca still kind of feels like she doesn’t belong. Like the kids are still looking at her weird because she doesn’t like running around as much as they do...well, only if Chloe makes her or encourages her. Then she doesn’t mind it so much.

If it weren’t for Chloe Beale, Beca thinks that things would be much worse. It is the new environment and the new house and the new school, Beca’s sure of it. She hates change as much as any other young child, but she feels marginally lucky that she has Chloe.

Chloe, who consistently manages to drag her out of the house every day leading up to the first day of school at the end of each summer, mostly because she simply knows that Beca is nervous and she wants to make her feel better.

That, to Beca, is more than she could have ever asked for.

She watches Chloe hum to herself as they both sit under the big tree in Chloe’s backyard. It is their favourite spot to get away to, especially after a long day at school. Beca likes when Chloe’s mom brings them snacks and lets them play outside until they’re tired and Chloe has to practically drag Beca home, usually to the sight of Beca’s father’s disapproving stare looking down at both of them.

“I don’t want to go home,” Beca announces. She isn’t quite sure where it comes from, but she lets it out nonetheless because she has seen Chloe do it before. Chloe always speaks her mind and always makes sure her voice is heard.

Chloe sits up, propping herself up on her elbows. She frowns at Beca. “But we can’t have a sleepover. There’s school tomorrow, Bec.”

“No...I just...don’t like...going home.” She hates how timid she sounds, but it’s the truth. She waits for Chloe to process that.

Chloe takes a moment to stare at her. Beca notices that Chloe does that frequently, like she understands exactly what is going through Beca’s mind at any given moment. Beca finds it both terrifying but oddly comforting. It is comforting knowing that Chloe cares so much about her and they are, as Chloe puts it, best friends forever, but the intensity of Chloe’s gaze is sometimes just…

“Is it...your dad?” Chloe finally asks, severing Beca’s train of thought. She doesn’t sound judgmental, not even close. She simply sounds concerned, eyes fixed on Beca with sympathy.

Beca’s eyes widen. She hadn’t told Chloe. At least, she didn’t remember telling Chloe. “I...I just don’t like it when they fight,” she admits quietly. “Your house is nicer.” She feels guilty that her immediate thought is that Chloe will judge her or even get upset at her, but she knows that Chloe would never.

“I heard them once,” Chloe confesses. She sits up, wrapping her arms around her knees so she can peer at Beca more closely. “The window was open and I was outside.”

“Oh,” Beca murmurs, embarrassed mostly. “I don’t know. I just…when they yell…”

Chloe immediately pulls her in for a hug, startling Beca into silence.

Beca squeezes back—hugging is still an art form she’s learning from Chloe herself—but she finds herself sinking into the hug.

It is as easy as breathing, especially with Chloe.

* * * * *

When Beca leaves that night, Chloe mulls over what Beca had said earlier. She pushes her food around her plate, pouting mostly, as her brother chats animatedly with her parents. She wants so badly to fix things for Beca, but she has no idea how.

She glances up when her brother begins talking about how his friend’s family just began to foster a couple of puppies.

“Mommy? Daddy?” Chloe chimes in, ignoring the dirty look Max gives her when she cuts him off. She places her fork primly next to her plate and fixes her parents with the most innocent expression she can muster.

“Suck-up,” Max mutters, kicking her under the table.

She ignores that for the time being. “Can Beca come stay with us?”

Alice tilts her head, staring with curiosity at her youngest child. “For a sleepover?” She glances at her husband. “Baby, you know it’s a weekday. You have school tomorrow.”

“No, not for a sleepover.” Chloe pouts at her plate. “Forever.”

Chloe glances up when an extended silence follows her statement. She wonders if she said something entirely inappropriate or wrong.

Max scoffs, but otherwise stays silent, choosing to let their parents handle it.

“Chloe,” her father states. “Beca can’t stay with us forever. Why would you ask that?”

“Because Beca’s so unhappy at her house. I want her to stay here.”

“Chloe, she can’t,” her father reiterates.

“Greg,” Alice murmurs. “Chloe,” she calls across the table. “Baby, Beca can’t stay with us even if she is unhappy.” She smiles sadly at her daughter. “I know you want to protect your friend, but Beca has a family of her own and they would miss her very much if she lived with us.”

“Beca’s mom and dad are always fighting,” Chloe confesses. “I hear it sometimes.”

“You do? What have you heard?”

Chloe shrugs, picking up her fork again. “I don’t know. Stuff. I just know Beca’s sad.”

The topic is put to rest for the remainder of dinner.

Later, as Chloe climbs into bed, a worried expression still on her face, her mother joins her in her bedroom, gently shutting the door behind her. “Chloe, my sweet, sweet baby,” she murmurs, sitting on the edge of Chloe’s bed as her daughter continues to pout at her. “You know that Beca is always welcome over.”

“Yes,” Chloe mumbles. “But why can’t we just keep her?”

“She isn’t like a pet, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

“No, she’s my best friend,” Chloe corrects.

“I know, Chloe. You are, of course, very very sweet to think of her best interests.” At Chloe’s confusion, she smiles. “You care a lot about her,” she amends.

“I do.”

“Sleepovers on weekends are fine, but we can’t just take Beca from her home. People get in trouble for that kind of stuff, okay?”

“I don’t like seeing her sad.”

“I know.” Alice’s heart breaks for her daughter’s best friend. Beca is small and quiet, but she has seen how lively and happy Beca could be. Usually only around her own daughter. She adores little Beca Mitchell because of how happy the girl makes Chloe. She wonders what Beca’s own parents think of her daughter’s influence on their daughter’s life.

“I want to keep her,” Chloe declares, though with a tinge of sleepiness, finally.

"I know," Alice repeats, pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "I love you."

* * * * *

The next day, Beca and Chloe go about their days at school as best as they can. They didn’t manage to stay in the same class for their school year, so Chloe can only really see Beca at recess, but she’s excited just to see Beca and drag her over to their house after school.

Chloe has long stopped asking why they rarely go over to Beca’s house. Beca just likes her house better and Chloe hasn’t complained once. She loves having Beca in her house. She loves seeing Beca giggle over the fun snacks her mother always brings them. Fun dinosaur-shaped nuggets. Tater tots. Nicely sliced fruits.

Today, Alice Beale has bright smoothies waiting for them when they trudge through the front door.

“Shoes off, girls!” she calls as they rush through the front foyer.

Chloe pulls Beca into the living room where their smoothies are waiting for them. She gasps excitedly upon seeing them. “Yay! Mom never makes smoothies!”

“These look good.” Beca smiles at Chloe’s mother. “Thank you, Mrs. Beale.”

“Beca, you are so much more well-mannered than my own child.”

Beca blushes immediately under the attention and turns back quickly to the television where Chloe is loading up recorded music videos.

“Girls, I have some fun things for you, if you want to play dress-up.”

Chloe turns quickly. “I want to see!”

“I have some old dresses and shirts and clothes. Maybe you can put on a fashion show for us later. Or just figure out which things I can throw out. Hm?”

“Okay!”

* * * * *

“These are so big,” Beca says, holding out her arms with the sleeves flowing freely over her hands. “Maybe too big.”

“We look funny.”

“I kind of like that,” Beca says shyly. She smiles at Chloe in the reflection of the oversized mirror.

“Beca,” Chloe says slowly. “I asked my parents yesterday whether we could keep you.”

Beca pauses from where she is attempting to tie a very large belt around her waist. “You what?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe says quickly. It sounds silly now, but she wants Beca to know, at least, that Chloe cares so much about her. “You were just sad about going home. And I thought...maybe...what if you just never went home. But my mom and dad said no. I’m sorry.”

Chloe sounds so genuinely distressed that Beca nearly trips over herself to quickly pull Chloe into a tight hug. “Don’t be sorry!” She feels affection well up inside of her—affection she didn’t even know she had for Chloe—and she quickly squashes it down, focusing on the feeling of Chloe hugging her back. “Thank you,” she murmurs, as Chloe’s arms tighten around her.

In all honesty, Beca hadn’t considered that. Not even while they had been sitting out by the large tree in Chloe’s backyard the day before. Or any of the days before that. But now, she kind of wonders why she hadn’t considered it before. It seems kind of pointless now, since Chloe’s parents said no...but…

Chloe draws back from the hug and grins widely at Beca, missing teeth at all. “Want to play house?”

Beca smiles back, excited already at the prospect of a new adventure with her best friend.

* * * * *

Later that night as Beca settles down for dinner with her own family, she can’t quite wipe the smile from her face. It had been somewhat freeing—so fun, of course—to play house with Chloe. Being silly with Chloe, trying on oversized clothes. Then letting Chloe’s mother take pictures of them together with silly expressions on their face.

It is Beca’s mother who notices the smile on her face first. She stands at the stove, stirring something slowly while Beca sits quietly with her father at the table. “Did you have fun at Chloe’s?”

Beca thinks her father clears his throat, but he doesn’t say anything, so she keeps her eyes on her mother’s face. Well, the side of it anyway. “Yeah. We played dress-up and did our homework.”

“That sounds fun.”

“We played house too. I like playing house with Chloe. She makes me laugh a lot.”

“You played house,” Beca’s father echoes, putting his mug down on the table with a small amount of force. It startles her and she looks to him guiltily, though for what reason, she still doesn’t know. “Rebecca, you know that you can’t play house with another girl, right?”

“Warren, please, not now. She didn’t mean it that way.”

“Of course she did. It’s because you let her spend time with those damn leftist hippies,” he growls back. Beca winces, shrinking in her seat. “Beca, listen to me carefully, okay? Two girls cannot play house because that game is about pretending to be a family. Being married, Beca. You can't do that."

“Why can’t Chloe be my family too?” Beca asks, confusion her tone. She is mostly just confused, which is why she's arguing back. It feels wrong, what her father is saying her. She could have sworn that Chloe’s mom said—

“Because to be family means that you two would have to be married and you can’t have that, okay?”

“Mrs. Beale said that—she said that one day—”

“She said that one day, what?” her father demands. She quickly looks away, tears stinging her eyes. She isn’t even sure why she had bothered arguing or talking back to him. “Do you see what happens when you let our child do whatever she wants?”

“Warren, not now.” Beca hates that tone her mother uses. It means that the fight will likely last well into the night.

“I’m tired of you constantly challenging the way I want to raise our daughter. This is what’s right and you know that. Those people aren’t good influences. Look at what they're turning her into! What’s the matter with you?”

“It’s rich that you want to have a say now that you’re home for the first time in weeks. When was the last time you tucked her in? When was the last time you picked her up from school? I’m running myself dry here, Warren.”

Beca stares forlornly at the table in front of her, thinking back wistfully to what Chloe had said earlier. The thought of being part of Chloe’s family. Or even just a family with Chloe herself. That would be nice.

Beca thinks it would be nice, maybe, to spend the rest of her life being friends with Chloe, as long as she gets to keep her in her life.

It is a nice imaginary escape for the moment.

It is an escape until she can see her best friend again under that big tree where they both feel invincible.

fin.

#mine #bechloe #bechloe fic #now i see daylight #my fanfic

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chiseler · 3 years

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Ginger Rogers: Curse of the Working Class

A natural-born mimic, ham, tease, hard worker, stoic follower and out-of-reach babe, Ginger Rogers has proven one of the most difficult to define of all the 1930s Hollywood stars. At her best she was a synonym for fun and high spirits while also conveying a dignified and skeptical kind of resistance to other people, and these contradictory impulses made her one of the most special and ambiguous performers of her time. Rogers excelled in her first seven musicals with Fred Astaire and in several of her comedy vehicles and even in some of the programmers she churned out in the early 1930s. She was beloved, and rightly so.

In Stage Door (1937), Rogers gives one of the most distinctive, most suggestive, and most perfectly judged performances of the period, molding every one of her bone-dry, wisecracking line readings (and what lines she has in that movie!) into something pleasurable, something unexpected, even something profound, delivering them all with her guarded, in-transit sort of face.

I’ve seen Stage Door probably more times than I’ve seen any other movie, but I always notice something new in it, some new line, some new angle. As a kid, I didn’t really understand the source of Rogers’s misgivings here, which is the same source that animates her outrageously and inventively bitchy yet somehow tender and worldly fights with Linda (Gail Patrick), her high-falutin’ former roommate. Linda is the mistress of Anthony Powell (Adolphe Menjou), a powerful Broadway producer. When Powell sees Rogers’s Jean Maitland rehearsing a dance routine, his little weasel eyes light up with lust. He thinks she’s just playing hard to get when she makes her habitual mordant jokes at him, but she is really just trying to delay the inevitable. She wants no part of sleeping with a man for his money not because she thinks it’s morally wrong, per se, but because she’s basically too tired-out to go through those motions.

Jean is so disenchanted that the disenchantment seems to be leading her to some kind of drastic change. She talks herself into going out with Powell but gets out of sleeping with him by getting, or pretending to get, disruptively yet vaguely drunk. Jean gets drunk the way she does everything else, at some very unusual kind of steady and wary behavioral half-mast. She cracks wise as a matter of course, but she sleeps with a doll and she plays a ukulele. These cute details don’t seem to fit her character, but they do express the divided character of the woman who was playing her.

Jean stumbles home from Powell’s penthouse to her new roommate Terry (Katharine Hepburn), a rich girl with airily la-di-da attitudes about life and the theater. Hepburn had not endeared herself to Rogers with her much-repeated remark about Rogers’s partnership with Astaire: “He gives her class and she gives him sex.” The competitive rivalry between Hepburn’s upper-class pretension and Rogers’s low-burning common sense is the heart of their conflict in Stage Door, and this conflict and mutual dislike reads as pure chemistry on screen, just as it did for Rogers with Astaire.

There is such chemistry between Jean and Terry that Stage Door has always been a kind of closeted lesbian classic just waiting to burst into full-on Sapphic love. Terry has no love interest and shows zero interest in acquiring one, while Jean looks more than ready to give up on poor, unreliable young men and rich, sexually demanding older men like Powell. Jean and Terry, in fact, are perfect for each other and wind up with each other, and in the last scene Rogers reaches a kind of epiphany as she reacts to their friend Judy (Lucille Ball) leaving New York to get married. “At least she’ll have a couple of kids to keep her company in her old age, and what’ll we have?” she asks. “Some broken-down memories and an old scrapbook that nobody’ll look at.”

I first saw Stage Door when I was eight years old. Now that I’m well into adulthood, these last few lines that Rogers tosses off with such face-the-facts casualness have the force of revelation, as if she has finally washed up on the shores of some final philosophy. They predict the real lives of both Hepburn and Rogers (though some people still do want to leaf through those particular scrapbooks) and Terry and Jean, and everybody else for whom the easy way and the conventional way of living will never fit or will never be acceptable.

Rogers was capable of that tough-minded and frank and bleak attitude on screen, but in life and in general she was actually, and alarmingly, one of the most clueless of stars, never quite knowing what it was that people liked about her. Starting as early 1938, the year she made Vivacious Lady and Carefree, something peculiar started to happen to Rogers. After years of the most unlikely and enormous success in her Astaire films, where she was up to any dance challenge he gave her and where her timing in both musical and comic and dramatic scenes was magically sharp, her timing started to go horribly awry. Rogers began to be afflicted by self-consciousness, miscalculation, cutesiness, self-infatuated archness and flashes of deep-rooted mean-mindedness. She slipped back into her best controlled star mode in several films after that year, but she started to deteriorate more and more by the mid-1940s, almost as if someone had put a curse on her.

Rogers was born Virginia McMath in Independence, Missouri in 1911. Her formidable mother Lela Rogers was a writer for silent films and a journalist, and she was seemingly joined at the hip to her daughter. It was Rogers who wanted a career as an actress, and Lela resisted this at first, but when Ginger won a Charleston contest Mama Lela knew which way the wind was blowing. She poured all of her own considerable energy and ambition into making Ginger a star and keeping her one (that first name supposedly came about because a cousin couldn’t pronounce the name Virginia).

At the height of her stardom, when Rogers was sent the script of The Hard Way (1943), she wonderingly said, “This is the story of my life,” and turned it down. In that movie, Ida Lupino works like a demon to get her malleable kid sister (Joan Leslie) into show business, and the comparison is not flattering to Lela, who made a fool of herself testifying before HUAC as an expert on Communist infiltration of Hollywood, citing particularly the time when Rogers had to say Dalton Trumbo’s line, “Share and share alike, that’s democracy” in Tender Comrade (1943). Lela herself actually turns up playing Ginger’s mother in Billy Wilder’s The Major and the Minor (1942), and she’s a rather low-key presence, but she talks and moves like a woman who has power and feels no need to make any outward show of it.

In that Wilder movie, Rogers spends most of her time pretending to be a twelve-year old, and this uneasy reversion to little-girlhood was one of her most troubling fallback modes. She had made her first successes on stage with “baby talk monologues” written by Lela, and her early style, as seen in films like Young Man of Manhattan (1930) and Honor Among Lovers (1931), was very much a hold-over from the 1920s, a Betty Boop baby vamp persona that was more suited to cameo roles than to leads (Claudette Colbert, the star of Young Man of Manhattan, gently mocks these baby affectations after meeting Rogers’s character).

She churned out lots of low-budget programmers in 1932, and in 1933 she made ten films. In two of those, 42nd Street and Gold Diggers of 1933, Rogers nearly steals the show in fairly small parts. As Anytime Annie, a notoriously obliging chorus girl in 42nd Street, Rogers is first seen wearing a monocle and affecting a grand manner accent, and this was the first sign of her aptitude for two-faced disguise. As Manuel Puig once said of Ann-Margret, Rogers is anything but reassuring.

She’s close to surreal in her gold-coin outfit singing “We’re in the Money” with pig Latin verse in Gold Diggers of 1933, looking directly into the camera and not flinching as it travels all the way up to her face. Rogers gobbled up attention like that, and she had what it took, but she needed something or someone to stabilize her. When she strips down to her slip and stockings and gyrates in Professional Sweetheart (1933), an outraged Norman Foster spanks and then punches her, the first in an increasingly ominous series of punishments that would shadow her later career.

In the very horny Pre-Code musical Flying Down to Rio (1933), her first film with Astaire, Rogers is a hot mama, singing and swaying to “Music Makes Me” in a vagina power dress that even Marilyn Monroe might have rejected as too overt. When they dance “The Carioca,” Astaire starts out holding his head slightly away from Rogers, as if she might be diseased, but by the end their electric chemistry has fully kicked in.

Astaire had spent his youth dancing with his sister Adele and didn’t want to get stuck with another steady partner. Rogers had her eye on dramatic parts, announcing to an incredulous press that she wanted to play Joan of Arc. She was an ambitious and competitive person, and she knew that she was not even close to Astaire’s Olympian league as a dancer. But that’s part of the magic of their series of films, in which Rogers improves as a dancer bit by bit until she is fully capable of following his every step.

Astaire objected that no one would believe Rogers as an English girl in The Gay Divorcee (1934), and surely no one could mistake her for English, but this part gave her the reserve that she intriguingly used and toyed with for her best years as a star. Like most first sexual experiences between two people, their first real romantic dance together in that film, “Night and Day,” is both exciting and a little awkward. In their follow-up Roberta (1935), Rogers looks tense during their slow “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” routine, but she comes wonderfully alive when they casually tap to “Hard to Handle,” their first really great dance together.

She was always at her best in the lively comic numbers, where her wacky energy seems to warm Astaire, but she worked hard at the dramatic routines, so that when they do “Let’s Face the Music and Dance” in Follow the Fleet (1936), Rogers has somehow ascended up to Astaire’s level as a dancer. It must have taken nearly super-human will, but she did it, and audiences saw and felt her progress, and they loved it because it meant that anything was possible if you worked hard enough, even dancing like or with Fred Astaire.

Astaire didn’t like her feather dress for the “Cheek to Cheek” dance in Top Hat (1935), and you can see why he didn’t: it’s a little tacky. Costumer Walter Plunkett said Rogers always wanted to “add a crepe paper orchid or a string of beads or some goddamned feathered thing. She just never could resist little improvements.” But her feather dress in Top Hat does move beautifully when she dances, even if we do see some of the feathers floating away from them, as if she’s molting.

A more characteristic and winning image of her comes in the way she hikes up her skirt in the “Pick Yourself Up” number in Swing Time, which has a deeply charming kind of put-on nonchalance, or in the soldier-like way she executes a series of brutally exacting turns at the end of the “Never Gonna Dance” finale toward the end of that movie (while she shot this scene, her feet started to bleed in her shoes). One of the real pleasures of American moviegoing is watching Rogers as Astaire sings a love song to her: she would listen so intently, with barely any change of expression, but with such sensitive receptivity behind her eyes and in the set of her mouth.

People like to wonder if Astaire and Rogers hated each other. Maybe there were moments when they did, but mainly they just resented being tied together as a team, and those misgivings are part of what give their partnership and their best dances such impact, such crackle. Rogers reported in her autobiography that Astaire had taken her out on dates in New York when they were both working in theater, and at the end of one such date he gave her “a kiss that would never have passed the Hays Office Code!” But when they worked together in films, Astaire was married to a woman he adored, and he was a distant taskmaster in the killer rehearsal sessions for their dance routines. His friends, cultivated when he played on stage in London in the 1920s, were the English gentry. Rogers was not his cup of tea, and he made that known to her in subtle ways. She said either, and he said eye-ther, and they wanted to call the whole thing off, but no one else ever did.

In the many years after their partnership ended, they were still stuck with each other, and they both still resented that. Rogers would sometimes make friendly overtures to Astaire, and he would politely but firmly put her off, and this led to hurt feelings for her, so much so that she didn’t even go to his American Film Institute Lifetime Achievement Award ceremony. Film scholar Joseph McBride helped to put together that evening, and when I asked him about it, he remembered Astaire saying, “I suppose we’ll have to have Ginger,” in an irritated voice. When she didn’t come to the ceremony, it seemed like sour grapes on her part, but it had been made clear to Rogers that Astaire only wanted the bare minimum to do with her, and so she withdrew. It would do well to remember, of course, just how obnoxious Rogers could be. If you want to feel the full force of that, just look at any number of the films she made from 1944 to 1964 and you’ll see one garishly misplayed, mistimed performance after another, including the last one she did with Astaire, The Barkleys of Broadway (1949), where her dramatic aspirations were mocked and then the mockery was unintentionally confirmed when she did a goggle-eyed recreation of Sarah Bernhardt reciting the Marseillaise.

So what happened to Rogers? Why did she lose all of the qualities that had made her a star right after her stardom was confirmed? Many writers have tried to explain it. Analyzing Astaire and Rogers in The Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers Book (1972), Arlene Croce says, “She’s an American classic, just as he is: common clay that we prize above exotic marble. The difference between them is that he knew it and she didn’t. Rogers always wanted to be something more. Probably no other major star has so severely tried the loyalty of her public by constantly changing her appearance and her style.” In his book Romantic Comedy (1987), James Harvey writes, “Can there be any other major star who was so variable, even from film to film, as she was?”

Harvey blames George Stevens, who directed maybe the finest Astaire/Rogers film, Swing Time (1936). He sees a softening of her character in the straight scenes in Swing Time, but the rot really sets in with Vivacious Lady, a romantic comedy that has all the elements for success but perversely ruins them with its taffy-pull pacing, its willful lack of coordination, its leaning on jags and cutesiness and bizarre sequences like the fight scene between Rogers and a rival that devolves into a series of unmoving tableaus broken only by a coy laugh from Rogers, as if Stevens wanted to turn her into Frank McHugh. In the same year, in Carefree with Astaire, Rogers exhibits such unpleasant sadism when her character is under hypnosis that it feels like a revelation of some inner nastiness that had always been prudently hidden from view.

The damage was reversed in Bachelor Mother (1939), a working girl comedy that has no right to be as charming as it is, where Rogers added a kind of moony dreaminess to her repertoire of personas. She then made two films for Stage Door director Gregory La Cava, 5th Avenue Girl (1939) and Primrose Path (1940). In her second La Cava film, Rogers is so deadpan that it reads as a lack of basic vitality, a first in her career; it’s as if La Cava is unearthing the suicidal or even homicidal side of Jean Maitland. “People annoy me,” she says in that movie, and boy does she mean it. In Stage Door, when Powell tells Jean he wants to put her name in big electric lights, she says, “Gotta be big enough to keep people away.” La Cava is the director who understood Rogers the most, discerning something anti-social and solitary behind her sunny audience-pleasing looks and manner. In Primrose Path, he cast her as a teenager who breaks away from her family before she joins their prostitution racket, and her work in that movie is stark, clean, unsentimental.

Rogers won an Oscar for Kitty Foyle (1940), and many have dated her decline from that point, even if she is modestly touching in what is a modest working girl soap opera. She was close to unbearable in Tom, Dick and Harry (1941), where director Garson Kanin seems to dote on every moment of her self-indulgent performance as a dumb and narcissistic telephone operator who must choose between three suitors. Something about playing dumb here makes Rogers’s style seem laborious and throws her timing all out of whack, yet the following year, in Roxie Hart (1942), she certainly gets her laughs with her broad playing of a very dumb murderess who lives for publicity and likes to do the Black Bottom for reporters. In her segment in Tales of Manhattan (1942), you want to say to her, “OK, you can have all that hair on the top of your head or you can have all that hair fanning over your back, but you can’t have both, Ginger.”

Leo McCarey’s Once Upon a Honeymoon (1942) did her no favors, but most writers agree that the real coup de grâce in her career was Lady in the Dark (1944), a Technicolor movie of the psychoanalytical stage musical that had starred Gertrude Lawrence. Rogers insisted on playing it, and she was at loggerheads with director Mitchell Leisen and Paramount studio chief Buddy DeSylva, who vengefully cut most of the Kurt Weill songs from the film. All in all, the mercifully little-seen Lady in the Dark looks now almost as if it had been made in a spirit of deliberate sabotage. It is has to be the most nastily misogynist of any major studio production of this time, constantly hammering home the idea that Rogers’s Liza Elliott is an unnatural woman unhealthily attached to her work, and her leading man Ray Milland warrants particular scorn here for the gleefulness he brings to the scenes where he humiliates Rogers’s character. In the one extended musical number Rogers has, “The Saga of Jenny,” she doesn’t seem to have been given any choreography or direction and she can barely move in the outfit Leisen designed for her. “After Lady in the Dark there was nothing left of the Rogers character,” wrote Croce. “She died on the analyst’s couch.”

Rogers’s career proceeded only through sheer determination on her part (and on Lela’s part). She floundered in an updated remake of Grand Hotel (1932) called Week-end at the Waldorf (1945), and the next twenty years of her career were a real trial for her fans from the 1930s. Howard Hawks’s Monkey Business (1952) was supposed to be about scientist Cary Grant reverting to childhood when he drinks an elixir of youth, but Rogers insisted that she “wanted to do the kid thing too,” and so she ripped into scene after scene of coarse-grained youthful impersonation, the wise child of her early ‘30s character bearing rotten and poisonously un-watchable fruit. Cast as a hardened gangster’s moll in Phil Karlson’s Tight Spot (1955), Rogers is so heavy-handed and slow and cutesey with her dialogue that the effect is ghastly. If I were to make a simple diagnosis of her problems in the last half of her film career, I’d say that she caught a bad case of George Stevens-itis and never got over it (she had an affair with the married director during Vivacious Lady, which had Lela up in arms).

When she worked with a fine and sensitive director, as she did with Frank Borzage for Magnificent Doll (1946) and with Edmund Goulding for Teenage Rebel (1956), Rogers was still capable of restrained and acceptable if somewhat colorless work. But hateful things kept happening to her. In something like Storm Warning (1951), where she does battle with the Ku Klux Klan while also doing a transposed version of A Streetcar Named Desire, it seemed as if someone behind the scenes wanted to see Rogers punished. When Steve Cochran attacks her in Storm Warning, the scene is so prolonged that finally it is Rogers being humiliated and hurt, not the character she is playing.

Rogers went through five husbands, including the pacifistic and beautiful Lew Ayres, and most of them lasted for a couple of years, but Lela was her real partner for life. The last husband, William Marshall, got her to play a madam in a dire film shot in Jamaica, variously known as The Confession and Quick, Let’s Get Married (1964), and after that low point she made only Harlow (1965), where she was intriguingly cast as Jean Harlow’s mother, before retaining her star status in long-running stage stints in Hello, Dolly! on Broadway and Mame in London. After that came a little TV and nightclub work, where she ended most of her songs with a corny wink to the audience. A Christian Scientist like her beloved or at least inescapable mother, Rogers refused medical treatment after having a stroke, and she was ill for several years before dying in 1995.

The last forty-five or so years of Rogers’s long career basically ran on fumes of good will from her first twelve years in movies, and particularly those Fred Astaire musicals that she preferred to forget. Like many actors, Rogers had no real center or base that was really her, and this lack of center meant that she was able to in effect be something she wasn’t with Astaire, and transcendently so, but it also meant that bad habits and instincts were ready to rush in and overwhelm her when her guard was down.

“May I rescue you?” Astaire asks her in Top Hat, to which she snaps, “No, I prefer being in distress.” The Astaire/Rogers films are so romantic because part of her resistance is that she is suspicious of romance, and maybe she doesn’t believe in it at all. That lack of belief was what made her so sexy beyond her God-given but worked-on perfect figure (“Women weren’t born with silk stockings on, you know,” she says in Follow the Fleet). Look at how cool and unreachable she is when Fred is singing his heart out to her during “Never Gonna Dance” in Swing Time. She preached that God is Love and soda fountains were forever, but in her best work with Astaire and in Stage Door, she let darker and more movingly yearning things cloud her almost cartoonishly pretty brow, and those things are what should define her and what should be remembered.

by Dan Callahan

#Dan Callahan #The Chiseler #Ginger Rogers

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jacks4eva · 4 years

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reaction to the lost hero by rick riordan

imma be honest this is a long time coming, okay so here’s the timeline we’re looking at so you understand me. i read lightning thief in middle school, dropped it and read it again in ninth grade. then i read sea of monsters, but never started titan’s curse. then for some reason in 11th grade i bought the second book in heroes of olympus and started to read it and got confused so i started to read titan’s curse and got to when percy took artemis’s place and then dropped it...again. very sad that time considering it was LEGIT THE END SO CLOSE. anyway yesterday i read the whole thing again and the battle of the labrinyth in like 6-8 hours. idk i can’t remember if i started at 10pm or midnight but i finished at 6am. anyways today i read the last olympian, and now i’m starting the lost hero. i thought it’d be funny to do my reactions.

this timeline is just funny because i have read so many books, and yet the most popular ones like percy jackson and harry potter, didn’t wanna finish lol. i still haven’t finished goblet of fire yet i read 100 pages an hour and could probably finish it in a day. anyways.

let the reactions begin

okay i’ve heard of jason but i was not expecting a pov already

woah electrocution

he’s already got a love interest what

he said the coach is 5’0 i now imagine the coach as danny devito i have no choice

piper and leo yes i recognize these names

(i’ve seen a lot of posts about percy jackson okay)

i like leo i don’t like dylan

i love the starwars reference

oh look guys we got popular girls that are racist, can they get their asses beat in this pls

dylan is also racist for smiling-asswipe

we love the cherokee representation

i hate them so much can they please leave

“i had to say something” i like coach hedge is this bad

i hope percy is the storm but i just know i wouldn’t be that lucky

ofc dylan is a racist monster

danny devito never returned :(

PLS TELL ME THESE REINFORCEMENTS ARE PERCY AND ANNABETH

who is the bulky dude

i’m sorry i’m laughing he’s a big scary dude with his head shaved and A RAINBOW TATTOO and his name is butch

oh so that’s why percy isn’t here

okay usually when reading i can form some kind of theory or connection but at this point i literally have no clue what is happening

i just knew as soon as he asked that he had abilities with fire but i was not expecting fire fingers

wow what a first impression “you should be dead”

wait so all i remember from the son of neptune was the beginning had percy alone i think and i’m not sure if he had his memory or maybe not and he was running away from monsters, so is what’s happening to jason similar to that? and WILL PERCY NOT BE FOUND IN THIS BOOK?

“That also was necessary. Long ago, your father gave me your life as a gift to placate my anger. He named you Jason, after my favorite mortal. You belong to me.

“Whoa,” Jason said. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Now is the time to pay your debt, she said. Find my prison. Free me, or their king will rise from the earth, and I will be destroyed. You will never retrieve your memory.”

... okay theories, um a goat skin cloak was mentioned to have been owned by Zeus’s foster mother and that he owned it so the woman could either be the foster mother or Hera. If it was Hera, it would make sense that Zeus gave his son to placate her anger at his cheating or whatever. They are also trapped in Olympus, so prison would make sense. Hera was brought up a lot too, and according to wiki Hera persuaded Aphrodite to make her son make Medea fall in love with a mortal named Jason, so more than likely the lady is Hera. Their king will rise from earth could be the king from the battle of the labrynth, maybe. Or another king ya know there are so many.

Wait a minute

Something else I know about their names is Jason’s last name...JASON GRACE I thought it sounded familiar, because of Thalia Grace. Hah look at me being correct. That explains the flying and not being burnt by a lightning bolt—oh I’m stupid for not seeing it sooner.

Now just gotta figure out who Piper’s parent is.

Aha so I was right it was Hera.

Chiron not being able to give the information they need is kind of annoying.

Enceladus? So a giant offspring of Gaia, um...no bueno. Not a king tho.

“Child of lightning, beware the earth, The giants’ revenge the seven shall birth, The forge and dove shall break the cage, And death unleash through Hera’s rage.”

Okay theory time, child of lightning is obviously Jason. Beware the Earth...yeah no clue. The giants’ revenge the seven shall birth, the giants are probably the children of Gaia since that one giant was her child and it’s the seven are probably the seven half bloods from the great prophecy. The forge and dove shall break the cage, um maybe Leo is the forge since he’s hephaestus’s child (probably butchered the spelling). Doves are typically associated with aphrodite/venus, so idk about that. Maybe Piper is Venus’s child, I mean her God parent is her mom and it’d be funny since she was judging the other aphrodite kids. Also I assume Hera will kill whoever trapped her or someone involved since she’s so mad. Idk.

Could kill Drew btw.

CALLED IT CALLED IT CALLED IT IM A GENIUSSS

Wait. This woman looks like Hera, her clothes are made of Earth and she said Leo would fight her children trying to wake her. They’re gonna try to wake Gaia, which would make sense that it said stay away from Earth if she’s the Earth Goddess

I like the wolves thing because Romulus and Remus, ya know the twin boys who were raised by wolf and started Rome.

“You are our saving grace, as always. The she-wolf curled her lip, as if she had just made a clever joke”

I mean yeah his last name is grace

“She must really like this Percy guy to search for him so hard, and that made Jason a little envious. Was anyone searching for him right now? What if somebody cared for him that much and was going out of her mind with worry, and he couldn’t even remember his old life?”

so what if Percy’s just chilling at the Roman version of camp halfblood without a clue to who he is? bro.

Imagine reading this and seeing all of things I get right and wrong and wanting to slam your head into a wall.

Okay like idk why Annabeth was freaking out we kind of knew they were siblings, I mean they have the same dad. Unless this is saying they have the same mom or are twins or something. That’d be cool. That’s probably what he’s saying tbh but still, could’ve emphasized it more than “that’s my sister” like dude.

Anyway, they look very different so that’s funny.

King Boreas? uh.

Oo French

Let’s see what I can translate from the very little duolingo I did. Bienvenu, maybe a greeting. Idk which tho. Je suis Piper, I am Piper. Et c’est Jason, fils de Zeus, and this is Jason, son of Zeus. Vous parlez francais? tres bien, you speak french? good. Hey not bad, not shockingly good but considering I did the duolingo lessons 4 years ago, not bad. Vrai? Truth? Yeah I just looked it up.

Danny devito is alive!

“Leo scratched his head. “Well, I dunno about Enchiladas—”

“Enceladus,” Piper corrected.”

Leo is me omfg

DANNY DEVITO IS BACK

Arrows...HUNTERS OF ARTEMIS PLS?

“Leo stepped out next. “You’re catching me, too, Superman. But I ain’t holding your hand.”

this made me laugh ok moving on

Uh fight a sea monster? bro is Jason just Percy 2.0

“Aphrodite’s message was clear: This one needs no improvement.

And Piper agreed.”

I wonder if you can hear me squealing from hundreds or thousands of miles away

Did you miss the fact that he’s thirty feet tall— I DIED

Who slew titan k-what now? So basically yes. Percy 2.0

Okay I recognize the name Hazel, and all I ask is that she is not involved with Jason because Jason and Piper are really freaking cute.

an exchange of leaders, SO THEY DID SWITCH THEM

The way I called it

I WAS RIGHT AHA

anyways. time to read son of neptune

#rick riordan #percabeth #jason grace #thalia grace #piper x jason #the lost hero #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #hera #aphrodite #leo valdez

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statticscribbles · 4 years

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Scaled Roses

Summary: Penelope decides if Cheryl wants to be on her own, the least she can do is help her friends, of course Penelope’s never had constant friends, so she goes about it a little wrong

She finds out about the education trust Clifford crafted. A tight contract insisting a fifth of his profits be put into a hidden bank account for his children’s education, to be untouched, unspoiled by anyone who wasn’t a Blossom. Penelope knows how to read between those lines; not Jason. She wants to write over it, but she keeps her pen tucked into her purse as she lets Sierra read instead.

“Well this is as tight as they come Pens but, that’s not to say there’s not a way to undo some of the stricter wording. If you adopted any children, they would be considered Blossom’s by name, and we could, if you wanted, worm them into the conditions of the trust. They would have access to it, and nothing else from the Blossom dynasty.” Penelope nods thanking Sierra and insisting she can find some kids to donate the schooling trust to.

Penelope pretends not to know why she calls Fred Andrews, she knows in the back of her mind why. “Hey Penny.” His voice is soft, filled with the usual tiredness they all seem to carry now a days. She can feel her voice lose its business tone; she could never keep her friendship away from him. “Do you have Hal and FP’s numbers?” She swears she can hear Fred blinking in shock. “Yeah hold on you got a Pen, Pen?” He laughs at the joke just as he did the first five hundred times he made it. She thanks him as he rattles off their numbers. She doesn’t hang up right away, listening to Fred’s breathing for a moment.

“Pen, you, you want to meet at Pop’s?” Penelope swallows glancing around her empty house. “My treat.” She responds.

Of course he brings Hal and FP, both sitting nervously glancing at each other with Fred in the middle. It always was Fred, Penelope muses, he was what kept them together, kept everyone sane, everyone safe. She idly wonders when he’d gotten so thin, so sick looking, she steps towards the booth and swears she can see the hairs rise on FP’s neck. “Penelope Blossom, what on earth are you- Fred.” He sinks in his seat, understanding as Penelope slide across in the booth from them. “I have a proposition.” She smiles and Hal laughs already nodding in agreement. As she explains in hushed tones over the shakes and burgers they’ve been picking at. FP narrows his eyes.

“You’re telling me, you want to gift the Serpent kids, thousands of dollars each, for their education? For free? Cause your late husband was an asshole?” Penelope nods. “Pretty much.” Fred looks excitedly at FP, at the idea, FP returns his excitement wearily. “And Hal is here because you want to spite Alice yeah?” FP snorts when Hal laughs along with Fred. “Is it cause she slapped you?” Fred questions smirk on his lips. Penelope let him believe it as she ducks her head, nails digging into her thighs.

Alice had kissed her, in the locker room, during gym. When they pulled apart not only were most of the school watching but Alice screamed that Penelope had actually liked it and she’d asked to do more. It was a joke, the entire school had a good laugh about it, and Penelope lets them think she believes it a joke too. When she gets home and her mother had met her in the hall, and had shook her head, she knew her family did not find it to be a joke. She hadn’t made a sound when her father took out his belt, or when he instructed Clifford how to make sure she forgot about liking girls.

“Penny, hey. We were going to get another shake, you want in?” Fred’s voice like always pulling her back to her friends. “Of course.” She nods smiling at them. Hal nods back to her, she knows he can tell it’s not reaching her eyes. She wonders if he’ll stay quiet like he always used to. “So back to the matter at hand.” FP waves his hand as the next round of shakes are set down.

“Yes the trust is legitimate, it can only be accessed by someone who’s a pure Blossom, which in this case would be Betty, and then anyone that I give a ‘pass’ to.” “And how do you give ‘a pass’ to anyone?” Penelope’s smile falters once more. “Adoption.” FP and Fred choke at the same time and Hal whacks them both so hard they crash into the booth and spill Penelope’s shake onto Hal’s second burger. Penelope looks disappointed before plucking the cherry from the melting shake that’s pooling over Hal’s fries.

“It’s temporary, fostering I think is the proper term?” “They have to be in the foster system to do that.” “Well legally of course.” FP turns at Tom Keller’s voice. “Really Pens, the Sherriff?” FP groans, and Fred laughs when Sierra walks up behind him. “And the cavalry, now if you all can clean up the mess.” She mumbles as the three boys start to stack the baskets and wipe the spilling shake. Tom busies himself ordering another round of burgers.

Sierra sits next to Penelope, spreading out the copies of the trust she has, Tom slides next to FP who huffs pulling his burger closer. “According to this-“ FP lets his attention wander, watching how Hal’s eyes dart around every aspect of Penelope, he can see his gaze linger on her hands, and he catches the lack of glinting. Penelope isn’t wearing her wedding ring; he spares a glance to Hal to find he’s doing the same. He tries to focus but as Sierra and Tom start speaking legalize, occasionally Fred will chime in, some sort of phrase borrowed from Mary, he lets himself focus on the second burger; not on Freddie Andrews voice, still FP can’t help the jump in his heart when Fred’s hand presses on his thigh.

“FP, you get all that?” He takes a bite of his burger as he shakes his head. “All you have to do is sign, we make you the Serpent kids legal guardian, and then we transfer that power to me for a few months and-“ “Sweet Pea’s eighteen, he got held back a year and-“ “That’s not a problem, it’s until age 19.” “Joaquin is in a corrections Center.” Penelope arches an eyebrow. “No son of mine is going to stay in jail, Tom, if you would.” FP rolls his eyes as Tom slides out pulling his phone from his pocket. It takes him fifteen minutes, and Sierra drinking half his shake before he returns. “Pen’s they aren’t really your kids, you know that right?” Hal speaks finally and Penelope nods.

“Cheryl looked at me this- well she looked through me. My own daughter rightfully hates me. If I can help someone, it makes me feel less like the monster she knows I am.” “Pen’s we’ve told you time over, you’re not a monster.” Hal’s hand curls over hers on the table. “He’ll be in Riverdale at seven pm tonight, who’s picking him up from the bus stop then?”

“I will.” FP and Penelope speak at the same time and Sierra doesn’t stop laughing for five minutes. Penelope catches Hal dumping sugar on her cheese fries when she asks him to pass the salt.

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fieryhonesty · 4 years

Text

The life of You

[AO3]

Words: 1895

Kaeya didn't lie when he said he lives close to the tavern. However even that short distance was enough to make both of you soaked. Letting you enter first to his humble place. It's been a while since he had anyone at home. Usually it was him sleeping over at somebody’s place but that's been a while too.

"Whoah it's so pretty and cute here!" You exclaimed, eyes drifting around. Kaeya let out an amused chuckle. His place is small but he fit here way too many things he dares to admit.

"Hope you don't mind the sofa, unless..." Trailing his sentence on purpose. Curious of what you would say.

"Unless what? I'm fine even with the floor. You know sometimes I had no option and slept on a roof, haha."

Roof? This certainly piqued his curiosity. Just what by The Seven you were doing in Liyue? So far he understands you were helping with running the business. But again, something must have happened. One doesn't leave to take care of business and comes back with a vision out of nowhere.

"Well I could caress your cheeks while sleeping or rub your back-"

"Yea, I pass on that. I'm not that scared kid anymore! You can comfortably sleep, I'll be fine I swear." You answered nonchalantly while giving him a confident smirk.

He wanted to remind you about that squeak back at the tavern but decided not to. Instead of it he offered you to take a shower. You were hesitant at first but upon his remark that you can't sleep in wet clothes and you had a long travel. You agreed, slightly blushing when Kaeya offered you some spare clothes.

As you disappeared into the bathroom Kaeya decided to at least change clothes. He hates rain, it reminds him of that day when his father left him all alone. Also the day when his foster father died. Rain never brought anything good to him.

As he was mindlessly staring out of the window, observing lightnings he didn't notice you were standing in the door frame. Unsure if you should call out for him. He seemed too fascinated and as you looked at his profile you could see the little Kaeya you remembered. He always looked out during storms.

You suddenly sneezed and got the male's attention to yourself. Giving you a smirk as he approached you.

"Be careful to not get mesmerized by my looks, Dearie~" A tint of blush appearing on your face.

"Ah, sorry... I just. I didn't want to bother, you seemed to be lost in thought!" Kaeya's smug expression deepened. Wondering how much teasing you can withstand.

"Hmm. Maybe you are lying, trying to cover the fact you were enjoying your view. I didn't know my timid childhood friend grew into a wild woman." Before you could say something to defend yourself, he gave you another head pat as he walked past you. Now it was his turn to take a shower.

As he left you just by yourself. You just stood there, thinking about his words until your brain could finally understand. You wanted to shout something but it was late night and this was not even your place. Causing Kaeya problems with neighbors was the last thing you wanted to do.

To pass the time you decided to look a bit around, ended up in the kitchen. Looking at the kettle. Where are the cups? Once you found what you needed. Turning on the stove and waiting for water to boil. You felt tired, your muscles were aching, eyelids heavy. Luckily the noise of boiling water woke you up from your half slumber.

About the same time you could hear Kaeya getting out of shower. Going to the corridor to apologize for actually having the audacity to use his kitchen. But instead of an apology for that you murmured a simple sorry and fell back to the kitchen.

Heck. You didn't think he would get out of shower with just a towel around his waist. Feeling more than embarrassed, impatiently staring out of the kitchen window. Seeing absolutely nothing except some randomly appearing lightning in distance.

"Well, well. I didn't know you were so eager to-"

"Please forget about it. I had no idea. I thought you were dressed up like a normal person." You interrupted him while your eyes were still glued to the window.

"That's why you appeared so quickly in the corridor, huh?" He said teasingly. Noticing two cups of steaming tea. "Wow, this nearly feels like we are a couple doesn't it! Seeing me half naked, wearing my clothes. You even made me tea, so sweet!"

You turned at him and rolled your eyes. "Yea, yea. I wanted to let you know I made us tea as I'm still feeling cold despite of taking a shower. But whatever, sorry for that." Crossing arms on your chest. Clearly giving him signals to stop his little play. At what he chuckled again. His expectations were, you being shy and unable to say anything at all. This was fun.

"Hey I know you are tired and would love to dive under blankets. But I'm really curious about something." Sipping from one of the cups before continuing. "What took you so long? You never sent a letter. Nobody knew your location as you never mentioned your mother's business brand." You scoffed as soon as he said the word mother.

"My mother, huh. Honestly I wanted to tell you and Diluc at the same time as I hate to repeat myself but..." Looking at Kaeya, shifting closer to take your cup. Holding it in your hands as you were leaning against the counter.

"I didn't know my mother's business. I mean I grew up in Mondstadt. I had barely any memories at that time. And when I arrived..." You let out a sigh. "It's weird. She pushed me out of her life and then... and then..." Your voice changed from strong to really weak in a matter of seconds.

Kaeya looked at you with concern. He had an idea what happened but decided to let you talk at your own speed.

"So, the letter. It was not my mother's work. Her vice assistant wrote it. At that time my moth... ugh no, she can’t be called mother. Ah... whatever. At that time she was already in a late state of cancer. Practically dying and somehow her last wish was me taking over her business."

Kaeya just stood there, listening to your explanation of what exactly happened. How suddenly you had to learn so many things about business and fabrics. Understanding prices, how to make the best deal and many other things.

"And so when finally everything was settled down, I made my assistant have the same rights as me deciding about the possible best step for business. I mean... Look, she has been there since day one. She probably knows more than anyone else. Already being that woman's assistant. I think I can trust her." Finishing your tea with a loud slurp.

Feeling a bit relieved as you could get it out of your chest finally. More than explaining, it all felt like one big rant.

"To be fair. I wouldn't care if she took over the entire business. I don't want to be a business woman anyway. Too much stress. I wonder how your dad can deal with it all. Ah, do you think he would mind if I ask him for his secrets?"

Your last sentence stung him. He wanted to tell you that master Crepus was no longer alive. That he died one day, while protecting Diluc. But also there was something much worse he wanted to say. The truth about your foster parents.

Instead of saying anything at all he pulled you into an embrace. Silently rubbing your back. As you didn't push him back he assumed it's alright. That's good. He can savor some time to think this through. He can't just tell you two horrible news after hearing your story.

The truth is, each of you lost something or somebody, and is still suffering from aftermath. Yet he feels like the biggest scum ever. Not only he lied to Diluc and master Crepus. He also lied to you and now is about to think of some lie again. Just to push the responsibility to tell you the truth on somebody else.

He is such a horrible person and he knows that. His heart is already torn between what happened in his homeland and here. He is simply not the man who has the rights to be with you. To witness your painful reaction.

"Kaeya?" He just hummed. Praying to archons you won't ask for anything related to either of these catastrophes. "I know I'm a very huggable person, but what's wrong?"

"You said you are cold, and I felt like it. I'm glad to have you back, I'm not always making physical contact like this. You better cherish this moment." Hearing your chuckle and wrapping your hands around his torso.

"Now I feel like a little kid again. You guys always stood on my side and were there for me, thanks for that. And for this."

He felt like he does not deserve this. In fact he felt really down and needed a hug. Everything was repeating in his head, chasing him. He felt sick. Dirty liar. Trying to lie to himself that it's you who needs an embrace, but in fact it's him. He just should push you away and apologize. Tell you the truth like he told to Diluc that day. Make another person to change their opinion on him. He deserves that.

You were feeling like you will fall asleep any time soon. Freeing yourself and noticing Kaeya's darkened expression. Wanted to ask if he is really alright but it suddenly disappeared.

"Guess it's time to fetch you a blanket and go sleep, hmm?" Putting your worries away and nodding at Kaeya.

As you were sitting on sofa and waiting for the blanket, your mind reminded you what's going on. Being in male's house, that male is your friend, using his shower and now wearing his clothes. Usually you would be freaking out from things like this but you just sat there, a bit blushing. Reassuring yourself this is normal between old friends.

When Kaeya appeared in the living room, he was grinning. Telling you to lay down so he can cover you like a little kid. It was funny as he really said something one would tell to a child before sleep. Before he could leave you said something that made him stop in his tracks.

"Tomorrow I want to talk to Diluc. He seemed odd. Like really cold..." He stood there, thinking if he should just hum in response or actually say something. After a few seconds he responded.

"You see, Diluc has grown up. He is no longer the cute lad which would run to you when you fell down. Asking if you are alright, gently blowing at your ouchie or giving it a light kiss to heal faster." Kaeya felt like he said more than he should, hearing you getting up.

"Honey, go back to sleep. Ask him tomorrow, good night." Retreating to his room, feeling guilty. He won't have light sleep tonight, that's for sure.

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#genshin impact #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #f!reader #genshin #genshin impact diluc #genshinimpact kaeya #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #fiery series #homecoming

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thebibliomancer · 4 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #235: Havoc on the Homefront!

September, 1983

Welcome to the Wizard’s Mansion of Mechanized Mayhem!

This cover has got it going on!

Where “it” is “multiple things.”

Still, I love covers that are just like ‘here’s a couple things happening today’ and this is a great version of that concept with the things being viewing screens that the Wizard is looking at.

He’s watching the Avengers in various peril channel.

This is a good cover!

So last time: uh, a couple things. Wasp called Vision and Scarlet Witch in as reservists when Annihilus tried to blow up the universe with an invisible dome. The two basically contributed nothing but Vision was thrown into a robotic coma.

Wanda and Vision in a tube moved into the mansion while he recovers and Wanda recapped her entire backstory including new retcon that Magneto is totally her dad.

Then she had a Dr. Strange crossover. Since it also involved Monica, two Avengers makes it notable enough to synopsize in brief. And its titled Assault on Avengers Mansion! so its like its baiting me.

Dr. Strange astral projects to bother Wanda when she’s trying to get some grief reading in. He wants to find the Darkhold and she’s the last known possessor or vice versa because thats when she was possessed by Cththon and had to be saved with a care bear stare from the Avengers. But Dr. Strange really wants the Darkhold to stop Dracula from getting it. Yes, Dracula.

Since the Darkhold is being stored in a vault at Avengers Mansion after Beast brought it back from Wundagore, Dracula’s cult attacks and manages to break into the Mansion. Dr. Strange, Wanda, and Captain Marvel all fight off Dracula’s cult and then Dr. Strange trolls Dracula by teleporting the Darkhold somewhere else.

Also, Avengers Mansion got trashed in a break-in in Fantastic Four #257. Dammit. Whats with all the intertextuality in this era?

So that story there is: mostly a lot of Galactus eating the Skrull homeworld and fallout from aforementioned Annihilus story. Only the last two pages are relevant.

Mr. Fantastic shows up to Avengers Mansion to check on Vision, Wanda goes to make him tea, and then he’s teleported to a space trial leaving a giant melted hole in the mansion.

Honestly, I don’t know why FF got asterisked instead of the Dr. Strange issue. They both messed up the mansion but the Dracula cult was more of a break-in than someone leaving a giant hole in the wall. Although that’s more mysterious.

Anyway, with two different ‘read this also’s between issues that messed up the mansion, no wonder the opening splash has to be devoted to a repair crew patching things up.

Wasp is putting her size-shifting to good use to literally micro-manage. Zipping around at tiny size telling everyone how to do their job.

Captain America who is also supervising and impressing people with how buff he is gets annoyed and goes to tell her to stop but stops himself.

Captain America: No... No. She’s in charge here, and I have to let her handle things as best she can. Her methods do seem to bring results... They’re just not my methods, that’s all. Yeah...

And then he sulks off, ignoring Wasp when she asks what he’s muttering to himself.

Hm. The new leader honeymoon period is off, it seems. Cap was Wasp’s biggest supporter as chairperson and now he’s grumbling and second-guessing.

Dang.

I hope this isn’t snapback to Wasp not being leader because she’s flighty and silly. I hope we’re not just going to do that.

Cap wanders over to where Vision-inna-tube and Wanda are. Wanda is still glued to Vision’s side. And either Wanda can read minds or Cap says something between panels because we have Cap wondering in a thought bubble whether if Vision has shown any signs of improvement and then Wanda answering that he hasn’t shown improvement or worsened.

Cap(tain) America: “Well, don’t let yourself get too worried, Wanda. That husband of yours has been through worse scrapes than this. He’ll pull through!”

Scarlet Witch: “When you say it, Cap, I can really believe it!”

Inspirational Cap! Charisma rolls: Very.

Still, Wanda is sad because Vision is lying in a tube helpless and she can’t even touch him.

Cap wanders off again, without even saying goodbye (rude) while musing how much it sucks.

Cap: Blast it! Those kids were just starting to make a life for themselves, and this had to happen! Why was it that of all the Avengers who went up against the threat of Annihilus -- it had to be a couple of reservists who suffered most?

And then starts musing how weird it is that Scarlet Witch and Vision as reservists since they were active Avengers for so long!

Remember, Wanda joined the Avengers not very long after Cap did! Only a couple months in-universe! She was one of his Kooky Quartet!

Cap: At times I wondered if the Avengers would survive -- but somehow, through all the tumult and changes, the team not only survived -- it grew stronger! I pray it always will... with the menaces we so often face, we can’t afford to weaken. We’ve gone through so many changes lately. We’ve picked up two fine new Avengers in Captain Marvel and the She-Hulk, but we’ve lost Hank Pym... and now we’ve lost Iron Man, too. Even Thor has taken himself off the active roster to pursue a personal mission. I hope he won’t be gone too long.

Cap is clearly in some sort of dour Mood.

A dour and monologue-y mood.

And what’s Thor up to leaving the team roster OFF PANEL?

(Sigh)

Well, since the asterisk is telling me to see Thor #334... oh geez, Don Blake is under suspicion of killing Jane Foster. Thor, and Lady Sif take Keith Kincaid (the non-Thor love interest of Jane) on a trip to get the Runestaff (long story) and restore Jane Foster (long story).

Annoyingly, the Thor issue does show him telling the Avengers he’s going to be gone for a while and to take him off the active roster. And borrowing a Quinjet.

I think that it would have been nice to see at least a panel of that. Or something. I don’t want the book bloated with ‘see alsos’ but I’m confused why it put the most emphasis on the FF one when it was literally two pages where Reed manages to ruin the wall while getting kidnapped.

Whatever.

Anyyyyway.

Even though he thinks the new Avengers are good, Cap worries about having both Thor and Iron Man off the team.

Especially Iron Man.

He was their science/technical guy. And on the current team, the only one with any sort of science expertise is new trainee Starfox.

Who is busy making out and not being on time for his daily training session.

At least he remembers that he has a prior obligation.

And he’s only two minutes late. Or to put it another way, he’s a whole two minutes late. And Cap(tain America) is a notable stickler for punctuality.

Cap: “Punctuality may be an anachronism in this day and age -- and, for all I know, it may be unheard of on the planet Titan -- but in my day, it was something that was expected of people!”

Wow, Cap really pulled a ‘in my day.’

Frankly, I’m surprised he doesn’t pull that more often.

Starfox does seem contrite and apologizes for putting pleasure before business which sends Cap into an introspection about why he’s really being so harsh on Starfox.

Protip: It’s Tony. It’s almost always Tony.

Cap: Pleasure versus duty, that’s what it always comes down to. It was Tony Stark’s ‘pleasure’ which led him to giving up his Iron Man identity... leaving the Avengers. Some ‘pleasure’! He’s crawled so far into the bottle, he may never get back out. And there’s nothing I can do to pull him out... Nothing any of us can do, unless he lets us. That’s what’s really bothering me... isn’t it?

And he accepts the apology with a “just don’t let it happen again.”

You sound so old sometimes, Cap.

Meanwhile, She-Hulk is off on a jog through New York, listening to some Beach Boys’ California Girls.

An overeager driver scoots forward and cuts her off at the crosswalk and (I assume) in frustration, she punches the hood of the car.

And given it’s She-Hulk, she kinda punches a hole IN the hood. And probably engine.

The guy being either an idiot or incredibly unperceptive runs after She-Hulk to grab her arm and yell at her.

She does not care for that at all.

Like, why would you? She’s seven feet tall and green and just punched a hole in the hood of your car.

Luckily for the guy’s skeletal integrity, Spider-Man pops out of nowhere to be Friendly Neighborhood and mediate this conflict.

They both air their grievances.

She-Hulk: “This creep grabbed me!”

Creep: “Hey! She... she crunched the front of my car!”

She-Hulk: “That was you who cut me off in the crosswalk? You’re lucky I didn’t rip out your axle!”

Spider-Man: “Now, now! Let’s keep this friendly! Sounds like you’re in the wrong, chum! The lady had the light!”

Creep: “Lady?!? She’s no --!”

Spider-Man: “I wouldn’t say that if I were you! That’s the She-Hulk, dummy! Remember what she did to your car? Well, just imagine what she could do to you!”

Creep: “Oh yeah.”

And with the power of Spider-Man’s bomb-ass mediation, the guy realizes that he was in the wrong, apologizes, and leaves in a hurry.

(Her skeptical glare cracks me up for some reason)

Moral of the story: Don’t be a jerk. Stay behind the line when the little man is lit up.

After the guy takes off, She-Hulk praises(?) Spider-Man’s amazing mediation skills by saying he should have been a lawyer. And then they catch up.

She-Hulk is still having trouble adjusting to the East Coast lifestyle and lack of beaches so Spider-Man suggests checking out the Jersey Shore.

She-Hulk: “My big problem right now is housing. Avengers Mansion is nice, but I want a place of my own.”

Spider-Man: “It’s tough -- rents are pretty steep.”

She-Hulk: “The real trouble is finding a place I like. With the thousand a week I get as an Avenger, rent’s no big deal.”

Spider-Man: “I guess not, if you’re making a... a thousand A WEEK?!? I passed up a chance to become an Avengers, and they make $1000 a week?!? Oh, NO!!”

Ha ha, that ol’ Parker luck.

Maybe Thor should have mentioned the money when he tried to recruit Spidey.

Meanwhile, at a federal penitentiary in Vermont, a scene change.

Bentley Wittman, aka the Wizard, aka the Wingless Wizard, aka the adult man who thought the best use of his time was bullying a teenager, is being questioned about Plantman Sam Smithers’ escape from jail.

The Wizard claims that he knows nothing about Plantman’s escape and that he barely knows the guy anyway. They were airlifted from Ryker’s in the same helicopter and that’s it.

But a convenient x-ray tells a different story.

And that story is that “the Wizard” doesn’t have any skeleton bones.

... Were we really at the point in 1983 where we didn’t know about the dangers of overexposure to x-rays? They just causally scan both “the Wizard” and the guy questioning him?

Anyway, the ruse being rumbled, the fake Wizard rips the bars out of a window and jumps out to his death.

Or it would be death if he wasn’t just animate wood wearing a fake skin suit.

Kinda gross if you think about it.

Anyway, where is the real the Wizard?

Obviously, he escaped jail a while back. Not only is he a sinister criminal mastermind who has sinister masterminding to mastermind but also he was tired of the prison hair code. Because dammit, he wants to rock the goatee!

(Literally a comment he makes, calling the prison barbers butchers)

The Real Wizard gets a BLIP-BLIP-BLIP priority alert that informs him that the plant-him has been discovered which means that the authorities will be looking for him now.

Wizard: Now every law officer in the nation will be looking for me. Well, let them! They’ll not find me, unless they look here! And if they do look here, they’ll have a fight on their hands! The Wizard will not bolt and run like some common criminal! My home is my fortress! They’ll never get me out of it! Never!

Anyway, within an hour of the discovery of Plant-Wizard, a disgruntled agent of the national security council named Mr. Sirkorski receives a briefing.

Usually, this problem would be Gyrich’s problem but he’s busy somewhere else, probably making mutants miserable if I had to guess.

-checking- Yup, he’s over in the X-books, being involved in Project: Wideawake, the project that will later accidentally shoot Storm with a demutantifying gun that will take away her powers, leading her to kick Cyclop’s ass, leading to him leaving the team and feeling sad about being happily married.

Wow, Gyrich, you’re the worst.

Anyway, since the Wizard is tied to the presidential hostage crisis via Plantman, that makes it Serious Business.

Hence, Mr. Sikorski’s serious business.

And he hates it.

He hates this bonkers superhero universe. He just wants to live in a spy thriller universe without all this specific nonsense.

Mr. Sikorski: “Oh, great! Plant-Men... criminal scientists... prison breaks! Don’t they think I have enough to do, just keeping track of what the Russians are up to?”

Also Mr. Sikorksi, on the following page: “And it’s up to me to call in the appropriate parties. I feel a little weird doing this! It’s hard enough for me to believe there are such things as Avengers! I certainly never thought I’d be calling them for help!”

This guy is great. I hope he becomes a recurring and just continues to be low-key pissed about what genre he lives in.

SCENE CHANGE TO AVENGERS MANSION’s actually looking cooler than ever meeting room.

The table looks enormous and theres a giant viewscreen that they can display stuff on.

Only misstep in my opinion is that the seats don’t have personalized icons on the back.

On the big viewscreen map, Cap(tain America) is displaying for Captain Marvel known properties and hideouts that the Wizard has used in the past.

And then big boss the Wasp comes in with She-Hulk to start the meeting.

Since the government has requested that the Avengers help search for the Wizard, Captain Marvel suggests that she could zoom around and check off the whole list in no time flat by using her lightspeed.

Cap(tain America): “You probably could, C.M. -- that’s up to Jan to decide, of course. It would save us some time. After all, the Wizard could be in any of these places... or none of them!”

Wasp: “You think so? If I’d escaped from prison, I’d want to go home. But that’s just me, I suppose.”

Cool contribution, Jan.

I don’t mean to mock, its just she makes a goofy face.

(Hey, I wonder if her new costume was inspired by the FF’s negative zone’d ones. It’s kinda got a similar palette and rough design)

Anyway, Scarlet Witch asks whether she can be excused from superheroing for the day to keep an eye on the Vision.

Wasp: “Why, Wanda! I should say not! You agreed to fill in for Thor while he’s off in space, and I intend to hold you to that! I’m the chairwoman, and I’ll decide who goes where!”

In fact, since somebody does need to watch the Vision, Wasp chooses the most reasonable candidate.

Captain Marvel!

Who needs her to get the task done in five seconds! She can watch the coma-robot.

You make interesting decisions, Jan!

The remaining Avengers will split up into squads.

Captain America will take Scarlet Witch and She-Hulk to check the hideouts on the east of the map. Wasp and Starfox will check out the western ones.

She-Hulk: “You and Starfox, huh? That’s rich... the All Flirt Squad!”

Pfft.

Cap(tain America) isn’t feeling the humor and tells She-Hulk to save her jokes for when they don’t have a job to do.

Minutes later, the Avengers land a Quinjet on the front drive of the Wizard’s Long Island estate. He has one of those.

Cap: “Come on Avengers -- let’s get this over with!”

Good attitude, Cap.

Wanda notes that the grounds look neatly tended considering that the estate has been empty for the past several years but She-Hulk thinks a gardener was probably kept on retainer.

The Wizard was stupid rich.

When they get inside, Cap changes his tune. The place looks too tidy and ready for occupancy to be empty so maybe the Wizard is here.

So he pulls a ‘lets split up gang’ and splits up gang with each Avenger taking a wing.

Cap: “Oh, and She-Hulk, try not to break anything if you can help it. This is private property!”

Priorities!

Granted, She-Hulk is known to break things. Why just today she broke some dude’s car.

The Wizard is watching all of this on his home security system and springs individual traps on the individual Avengers.

She-Hulk finds herself in a series of identical small non-descript rooms, each more identical than the last.

So identical that its the same room, looping.

Wizard: “Through the circuity in that doorway, I’ve activated a dimensional matrix which will keep your walking back and forth ad infinitum through the same room!”

Except without seeing herself leaving which you’d think she’d be able to see.

It’s a smart way to trap a Hulk, provided they don’t run out of patience or get frustrated and smash something.

Meanwhile, Cap gets locked in a chamber where an anti-gravity field has been activated, leaving him flailing through the air.

Oh, and dozens of high-intensity laser torches pop out of the walls and start trying to carve up Cap.

Meanwhile, Scarlet Witch’s individualized trap is the most individualized of all.

Because She-Hulk’s and Cap’s could be used on any number of people really. But Wanda’s feels like it was created to counter Wanda. Pretty on the ball from the Wizard considering he doesn’t often fight the Witch.

When Wanda enters the room she suddenly starts spinning out of control, flies across the room, and lands in a chair.

Wizard: “Marvelous! I’ve ensnared the Scarlet Witch within something against which her astounding hex powers are useless. My field effect devices have generated a pocket of non-causality within that test chamber! Within the area, all actions have an equal chance of occurrence. Therein, all probabilities are skewed. She won’t be able to stand, much less cast a hex!”

Wow! That’s some high octane comic book nonsense science!

The point being that every time Wanda tries to do something, something random happens instead because its all equally likely. She tried to walk into a room and ended up standing on the roof. She tried to back out of the room, she started spinning. She tried to stop spinning and she flew into a chair.

Sure.

With the Avengers all trapped, the Wizard turns his attention to deciding how to dispose of them.

Except, as cleverly foreshadowed by my snide comments, She-Hulk’s trap is only as good as Jen’s patience.

Which is good forrrrrrr. Two dozens loops.

At that point, she’s sure some bullshit is up and scratches the wall with her nails to leave a tangible mark. When she sees the same mark in the ‘next room’ her suspicion is confirmed.

And now that she knows someone is jerking her around, she decides to ignore Cap’s suggestion to not break private property by breaking private property and rips the doorframe (and the dimensional matrix) to crap.

There’s a backup trap that drops slabs of six-inch omnium steel around her but yeah she’s a hulk and she’s not playing considerate anymore. She starts KRUNGing the walls with her fists.

Meanwhile, Cap uses physics to get out of his jam. He throws his mighty shield to break some lasers so action/reaction will propel him backwards and he can jump off the wall, grab his shield back, and uses one of the broken-off lasers against the others.

Also, meanwhile, Scarlet Witch tries to figure out her own, incredibly specific trap.

Scarlet Witch: This is like a nightmare! Whatever I try to do, something else happens. Just in making the attempt to call on my hex power, I wound up falling flat on my face! I can’t even... wiggle my fingers? I... I can! Oh, but only very close to the floor! Whatever is causing my actions to go awry must be weaker near the room’s outer surfaces! Then there’s HOPE -- !”

Wizard must have gone cheap on the pocket of non-causality projector for that room if it’s not completely covering the area. Sure, the area it doesn’t cover is relatively small but now what’s about to happen is going to happen.

So Wanda gets as low as she can go to the floor and uses her probability-altering powers.

This causes the non-causality field to reverse because why wouldn’t it? And causes feedback through the circuitry which causes the master control to shock the Wizard.

It also causes every logic circuit in the master control to overload and the whole dang thing explodes, Wizard barely flying out of the control room in time.

Right in She-Hulk’s path.

She’s not happy. He’s not going to like her not being happy.

She-Hulk: “After what I’ve been through, it’s gonna be a real pleasure to pound that helmet down around your ankles!”

Wizard nopes right out of her way and decides to abandon fortress.

Then Scarlet Witch probability alters his battlesuit flight controls to malfunction to halt his escape and make him crash to the-

...

I’m pretty sure his neck is broken now.

I mean, it’s apparently not because he keeps talking and moving and living but he look at that panel. Guy should be dead as movie Zod.

Y’know, if the Avengers are going to kill the Wizard, the FF should really get them back and kill one of their villains. I suggest Grim Reaper.

Anyway, surrounded by Avengers, Wizard pulls his trump card.

Wizard: “Your confidence is ill-founded, Captain America. There is one resource I can yet draw upon. There is a thermonuclear devise beneath my house -- powerful enough to destroy half of Long Island and make the remainder very unpleasant for a very long time. Much as I hate to see this place destroyed, I would press the button, so to speak.”

“You being such renowned public heroes, would hate that even more. But unless you allow me to go unharmed, I shall active the timing sequence of the bomb’s detonator.”

And Cap is like ‘do you mean this detonator’ and pulls out one he prepared earlier.

HAH!

You know, ironically, if he had just hidden in a safe room or on the roof or something, the Avengers probably would have came and went without noticing him. Springing traps on them really backfired in oh so many ways.

The threesome return to the mansion, presumably after turning Wizard over to the authorities, and Wasp comments that it sounds like they had a bit of excitement (Starfox grumbling to himself more excitement than he had searching the Bronx with the Wasp ha ha).

Cap(tain America): “You’ll be glad to know, Wasp, that your instincts were correct. The Wizard had indeed gone home. He gave us all a pretty good challenge... a welcome challenge, I dare say.”

Wasp: “Looks like I assigned the right people to search the right place, huh?”

Cap: “Yes, Ms. Chairwoman, I’d say you did!”

And elsenow, Wanda goes to the medical bay to check in on Vision and relieve Captain Marvel.

Scarlet Witch: “Can you hear me, darling? I hope you can. I was feeling awfully blue today... And I was given a duty that first seemed annoying, and later became dangerous. But I didn’t give up... I came back, and I won. I know that you can come back, too, darling! It’s just a matter of time... and hope.”

“It’s funny! I thought the Wasp was silly for sending me on that mission. But -- in a way --it was something I need. I think the others needed it, too!”

Captain Marvel: “Then that’s why she sent you, Wanda... because she knew what you needed! And that’s why she leads the Avengers!”

Secret friend mastermind Janet van Dyne sends you out for punch therapy when you need to punch something.

Reminds me of when Captain America picked a fight with Goliath Hank Pym to lift his spirits. Except with a lot less fighting her own friends and more pointing them in the right direction.

Something I love about this era of Avengers and with the big shift in Wasp after Hank’s court-martial is that while her character has changed she’s still recognizably and uniquely herself. She’s still a bit goofy. She’s still playful. And on top of that, she’s proven that she’s a good leader for the Avengers. It’s not mutually exclusive.

Cap (previously Wasp’s biggest supporter as leader) started this issue grumpy and even had his own ideas what the best tactic for searching for the Wizard would be, but by the end he agrees that Wasp made a good decision.

Despite playing the ditz for a long part of her career, Wasp isn’t dumb. And she’s got a good head for the interpersonal challenges of running a team too.

I’m reminded that during the much later Busiek run, when the Avengers need to expand and modernize to match up to expanding challenges, Captain America turns the leadership of the team over to the Wasp.

My point being, I was worried that there’d be snapback on Wasp being leader because she is flighty and silly. But instead, she can be flighty and silly and still a good leader.

I’m pleased with this take, Stern.

Follow @essential-avengers because there will probably be more Wasp being a good leader. Fingers crossed. Also, like and reblog this post maybe if you also like Wasp being a good leader.

#avengers #the Wizard #the Wasp #Captain America #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #Scarlet Witch #She Hulk #essential avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #the great feud between witches and wizards #wasp does a leadership #Cap be like hey don't break this supervillain's doom fortress its private property

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colossalsummer · 4 years

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KOTLC book one READ ALONG part 2 of 5

I read the first Keeper of the Lost Cities book and annotated every page. Here are the highlights. (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5)

Chapter 11

Tiergan: “I’ll see you Tuesday.” This is a weird thing to focus on, but… they have a seven day week like we do?

Soooo okay okay okay why are they giving her a top-level education gratis? Do they plan to use her once she graduates? Nothing in life is free.

Sophie: “What am I supposed to tell my family? They’re not going to let me disappear every day with no explanation.” Alden: “About that, Sophie. You and I need to have a talk.” OH-HO the truth come out

The sorrow in his eyes made her feel like she’d swallowed something slimy. Clearly, it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. Ah—so this is a kidnapping. Cool.

Her registry pendant, Della explained. Everyone had to wear one, so they could be easily found. Oh so a collar. I’ll be ditching that come time for the revolution

Sophie: “But… why does anyone work, then—if they already have money?” Della: “What else would we do with our time?” Sophie: “I don’t know. Something fun?” Della: “Work is fun.” Spoken like somebody who’s never worked retail on Black Friday. Some work is dangerous and boring. Who’s doing that stuff?

Chapter 12

Alden: “Now that the Council knows you exist, they’ve ordered that you move here. Effective immediately.” Oh, I see. A kidnapping.

She didn’t belong in the human world, and she was tired of pretending she did. It feels a little messed up for all these elves to keep insisting that she doesn’t belong with humans. She probably won’t feel like she totally belongs with elves, either, and then she won’t feel like she fits in anywhere. Y’all gonna give this child a complex.

Sophie: “You’re going to kill me off?” Alden: “As far as your family and the rest of the humans are concerned… yes.” IT IS A KIDNAPPING

Chapter 13

Sophie: “I drugged my family.” Fitz: “You did the right thing.” Sophie: “It doesn’t feel like the right thing.” HELLO *looking around fandom* ARE WE ALL SEEING THIS??

To be honest I don’t have a lot of notes for this chapter because it was just so heartbreaking and distressing. Like I have one note at the end of the chapter and all it says is “oof”

Someone protect this child

Chapter 14

Alden: “Fitz can help you get settled in here while we’re gone.” Sophie: “Here? I’ll be living here?” Sweetie, Fitz can’t be your step-brother ’cause then there won’t be a love triangle

Elwin: “Whoa, that is some serious damage. It’s not permanent… And it’s not your fault. Toxic food, toxic water, toxic air.” Fluoride, smallpox vaccinations, 5G…

Elwin: “Now, try not to let this worry you, but your body needs a major detox. We’ll start with these.” …My essential oils

Chapter 15

Alden: They run an animal preserve at Havenfield, so they always have all kinds of exciting things going on.” COOOL

“We’ve even had to collect endangered species—gorillas, lions, mammoths—” YES THANK YOU SHANNON

“Grady and Edaline train the animals to be vegetarians by feeding them gnomish produce; that way they won’t hunt one another once they’re moved to the Sanctuary.” mmm good luck obligate carnivores

“Another roar interrupted their conversation. Whatever it was sounded like it wasn’t happy about its new diet plan.” It is dying slowly because it can’t produce its own taurine but OK

Hopefully elf veggies are different than earth veggies. That’s just what I’m going to keep telling myself.

The path lead to a wide meadow, where gnomes were using thick ropes to lasso what looked like a giant lizard covered in neon green feathers. UNNH YES I DON’T DESERVE THIS

Also no wonder nobility work for fun, they got gnomes out here doin’ the dangerous jobs

I’m not going to bore you with my breakdown of this dinosaur reconstruction but as a person who worked in a museum as a paleontology educator these bits are the most exciting parts of the book for me. I rate this tyrannosaur 6/10 for scientific accuracy and 10/10 for handsomeness. Shannon Messenger gets 20/10 for popularizing feathered theropods.

…she couldn’t decide if he reminded her more of James Bond or Robin Hood—which felt wrong. He was so unlike her chubby, balding dad she wasn’t sure how to relate. Sophie, meet your new, hotter dad.

Chapter 16

At Sophie’s nod she conjured up a bowl of orange glop and a spoon. Why do elves eat so much goo? This whole time it’s been nothing but goo

Della: “Our world is ‘talent-based’.” AH-HA

Sophie: “Seems kind of unfair.” Yeah, who decides which talents matter and which don’t?

“Get ready to add the amarallitine, Dex.” Oh, I’ve heard of YOU

Grady: “I wouldn’t be surprised if he pushes for you to get transferred to Exillium—and let’s just say it’s somewhere you don’t want to go.” Oh, so there are BAD schools… it all comes together…

So if Edaline and Juline are sisters, is Dex like Sophie’s foster cousin?

Chapter 17

Dex: “The Leapmaster 500. You’re lucky. My parents aren’t nobility, so they’re only authorized to have the 250—it’s missing tons of cool places.” Like bad Netflix. I don’t love that this society limits where poor people can go.

Dame Alina: “First and foremost, whoever put the reekrod in my desk over the weekend will—It’s not funny!” *the camera slowly zooms in on Dex*

A spotlight focused on Sophie. Well, first day ruined. Only took fifteen minutes.

Her name hissed around the room like a viper’s nest. “Ssssssophie.”

Stina: “You left it open, idiot. I guess remembering to close doors is too hard for the son of a bad match to remember.” Ah wonderful, eugenics. I love elf school

Chapter 18

“Mastering all the elements is one of the steps toward entering the nobility.” Everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked

“Dude.” Is this a human-obsessed thing or is there straight-up an elvish word for dude

Sophie: “What exactly is a ‘bad match’?” Marella: “A couple that was ruled genetically incompatible. Usually that means their kids will be inferior.” THERE ARE SCREENINGS??

Sophie: “What’s Exillium?” Marella: “The school where they send the hopeless cases.” Yep I want to go there

Chapter 19

Telepaths were in high demand. Once she’d proven trustworthy, she’d receive assignments from the Council. OH OKAY so they send her to wizard school and when she graduates they don’t miss a beat, just scoop her on up and enlist her

If a prodigy hadn’t manifested by Level Four, they might be expelled—and even if they stayed at Foxfire, they couldn’t take the elite levels, which meant they’d never be nobility. Most ended up working class.

But once again it didn’t escape her notice that Grady avoided telling her what his special ability was. It couldn’t be something bad. Could it? The man has dinosaurs so if he was going to do something bad I feel like he’d have done it already

Chapter 20

Sophie: “Prentice?” Marella: “Yeah. He was this supertalented Telepath, but he got exiled like twelve years ago.” Oh as old as I am hm how interesting go onnn…

Lady Galvin: “Don’t you know anything about alchemy?” FFFF that’s why I’m HERE you old BAG

Lady Galvin: “Dame Alina probably thinks this is funny, forcing me to teach such basic serums. Well, I won’t have it.” You know, you aren’t getting paid, you can quit. I don’t mind.

“I’m Keefe.” Will this bad boy help us lead the resistance?

Keefe: “Did you do any damage?” Sophie: “Only her cape.” Keefe: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Do you have any idea how epic that is?” I really like this lil anarchist.

Keefe: “Destroyed Galvin’s cape.” Elwin: “Wish I could’ve seen that!” I’m recruiting this man for the rebellion. Keefe and Elwin get sorted in the Chaotic Good pile for the day of reckoning.

Stay tuned for Part 3.

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #read along #part two #kotlc funny #kotlc memes #kotlc sophie #kotlc alden #kotlc dex #kotlc keefe #kotlc book 1 #keeper 1 #shannon messenger #kotlc read along with me #tw: eugenics #kotlc spoilers #kotlc tiergan

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kariachi · 4 years

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This is it y’all, a day literal months in the coming- here and now I shall liveblog Dragon’s Kin, by Anne and Todd McCaffrey. By which I mean I will read Dragon’s Kin and take note of anything interesting, valuable, or just that comes to my mind. I have never read this book, it’s still in the plastic packaging it came in, I have never read a Todd book.

We’ll see if I survive.

Before I even open the damn thing, I am looking at the image of the McCaffreys on the back and let me say they look like they should be villains in a comedy western.

A Pass brings with it increased earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic activity, due to the whole ‘other celestial body coming in hot’ thing. Which actually makes a lot of sense, certainly more than anything else relating to Threadfall. (“charred bone” is this a fungus or a wildfire)

“Under the leadership of the Lord Holders and Weyrleaders-” *screams into aether*

It took until 16 years prior to the 3rd Pass for the Northern Continent to run out of surface coal and have to start actually digging for the shit

Everybody: Whers? Bah, not much to them, not good for much. Journeyman Miner Natalon: But consider, they might be awesome MasterMiner Britell: Hmmm, I’m keeping an eye on this one...

Chapter 1: “In early morning light I see: A distant dragon come to me”

We meet our main character, Kindan. His sister is getting married, good for her. Shame about the plot that’s going to happen later.

Having a watchwher gets you private housing. Also aw, the wher took their name from Kindan’s father that’s so sweet.

This just in, two boys can’t hang with dragons, settle instead for the simple pleasure of watchwher washing

Zenor: Dragons look like they’re soft, not like watchwhers Kindan: Bitch-

So our biggest asshole so far is a Tarik and honestly I’d be sending him back to the Hall with a nice long report of exactly how much of a fuckwit he is. And I’ve only known him a few pages.

And we meet the other major character- Nuella- who is apparently Somebody though who we have no idea

Oh gods Kindan’s mother is dead, his sister is marrying and leaving, and his father and Dask’s fates are in the fucking summary. Boy is about to have a time.

He has brothers! Well thank fuck.

Whers have external ears

Also I have only known Dask for two paragraphs but I love him

“Then Dask gave a little happy chirp, flapped his wings once, and vanished.” Whers can between, alone and from the ground. Apparently Dask does it all the time go he can avoid the lights from the camp.

Dask is brown, I was figuring but nice to know

Kindan, assuming dragons are harder to wash because they’re fucking massive and need oiling and shit (whers, the dragonkin for the common working fucker)

Chapter 2: “It’s skin is bronze, it’s eyes are green; It’s the loveliest dragon I’ve ever seen”

Damn Kindan’s family is a mess, his brothers are all dicks, his sisters are supposeldy dicks but we haven’t seen them, and the only decent fuckers are leaving or dying

Kindan’s Sister: Kaylek, my brother who loves to sing but couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, you shall sing at my wedding Master Harper: Over my dead body he will!

Kindan’s siblings may be shit, but he’ll be damned if he allows them to talked bad about by some non-relative and he’s stubborn as a wher himself about it

Am I reading a fucking fairytale film? The new Harper is a dick until he realises ‘oh wait, this kid isn’t complete shit, I shouldn’t have said the seriously horrible things I did’

(Seriously “to think your mother died giving birth to you”, I want Dask to eat him too)

Well it’s nice to see that the ‘whers fly at night because the air is thicker’ thing is only speculation by people with no fucking teachings with regard to that shit. At least so far.

Kindan really just went on a paragraph long internal monologue about the value of miners to the function and survival of Pern and for all he doesn’t in his heart want to be one I kinda want to see him grow into it now. Stories of stepping away from what’s expected of you and forging your own path are great (I’ve been writing some) but stories of falling in love with what before looked like something to be avoided can also be nice.

And now we get a two paragraph internal monologue about how awesome whers are. Best miners ever.

“Traditionally, the marriage ceremony was performed in the morning, timed so that as the couple completed their marriage vows, the sun would rise, signifying the warmth of the new relationship and how it would lighten not only the bride and groom but also all those associated with them.” Awwww!!!!

“However, such a ceremony would mean Dask could not attend. So Jofri had come up with the idea of performing the ceremony with the setting sun, instead, and lighting a bonfire as the final vows were made.” Awwwwwww!!!!!!!

For all the shit you hear and see relating to whers in earlier and later periods (that they’re ugly, and disliked, and kept chained up) it’s so nice to see Dask truly be part of the family, so much so that they changed the fucking wedding to accommodate him. I want this to be the tradition of handler families now. And then we have to remember that one of the other handlers for the camp straight up fucking left because Tarik was being a dick to his wher and he wasn’t having it. Yes, give me wher love.

Oh my gods Dask flying about with a glow in his claws to act as a spotlight as his handler’s daughter walks down the aisle this is so sweet!

And he’s singing along to the music!

He’s doing the groom too! Dask is a gift!

“For now that these two are one, we are all more,“ Master Zist intoned. He placed Silstra’s hand in Terregar’s and kissed each lightly on the cheek. “To Terregar and Silstra!”

The crowd stood up and roared back: “To Terregar and Silstra!”

“Long life and happiness!” Master Zist intoned.

“Long life and happiness!” the crowd roared back.

Kindan and Nuella officially meet.

Nuella, taking advantage of Kindan not wanting to get given chores on this the night of his sister’s wedding and her own presumed misbehavior to get him to keep her well away from any authority.

Nuella is sheltered as fuck, she hasn’t even seen a mashed potato before

Ah, she’s the twin of the big boss’s son. Don’t know why she’s being so fucking hidden I mean good fuck, but, at least we know who she is.

Aw, Zenor is her bestfriend. Not that she has many options but still

Seven fucking brothers! And an unknown number of sisters! No wonder their mother died having the last one, she birthed at least nine surviving children! Do you know how many she’d have had to have to get those numbers? Was she born pregnant, wtf?

Chapter 3: “Watch-wher, whatch-wher in the night; Guard our Hold, keep it right; When the morning sun does come; Watch-wher, then you job is done”

Aw, Kindan’s relationship with the his brothers is healing

Also Zist is a fucking taskmaster. He gets results but damn, man, chill.

The big boss’s son is apparently a sickly child

Dask has been in A Mood which is a never a good sign when you’re talking about your security critter

Miners’ children all just ‘it’s too quiet, something is wrong’ like they’re fucking birds. Not that they’re wrong, mind, but still

Welp, bad air was released and sparked before Dask could warn the miners (I assume a pocket got opened as somebody else struck some stone) and now we’ve got a cave-in. Dask got out and is now killing himself trying to rescue the miners.

Damn his father and his brothers in one day. And Dask fucking dying in his arms after managing to save the survivors despite bleeding out with his handler dead (which, even if whers can outlive their handlers he had to have felt, he’s dragonkin he’d have noticed the bond breaking, he was doing this despite knowing that he wouldn’t find Danil alive on the other side. Was he this dedicated to his work, was he hoping to save Danil’s boys, we’ll never know).

Pour one out for Danil, who did his damnedest to take care of his children, and for Dask, who was too damn good for us.

Zenor survived, but his father is also dead. He and Kaylek saved the poor boy’s life in exchange for their own. Gods the last thoughts that must’ve been going through that man’s head, as he realized that the mine was collapsing and he had brought his son in with him despite him not being near old enough...

Seriously y’all I’m crying

Chapter 4: “I am too big to cry; And my voice is too shy; To sing my sad, sad song; Or say the words I long; To say to you- good-bye, good-bye.”

The book says Kindan is the youngest of nine. It also says he has seven brothers and plural sisters. And the sisters at least lasted long enough to give him shit growing up. The book lies to me.

Okay so, Kindan’s got two siblings remaining- Jakris and Tofir- one of whom has been fostered to I think a sister of theirs? Kindan doesn’t note who ‘Terra and her husband’ are otherwise so I assume it’s another older sister and another of which has been fostered to Crom Hold where he’ll be learning art and maybe someday mapmaking. Kindan is still in the camp.

Zenor wants to take over his dad’s role of miner like boy you are ten stop

Ah, Kindan wants to stay.

If somebody would light Tarik on fire please? Especially given that he’s sitting here claiming the mining will be better without them when it’s already been stated that the shift with a wher gets more ore out of the ground per shift than the the others because the wher itself is a fantastic digger.

Zist: We need someone to raise Kindan Natalon: So good of you to volunteer Zist: o.o

Nobody likes Tarik, good, send the man back to Crom, let them deal with his ass.

And more confirmation that Kindan has sisters, I really need this book to make up it’s mind

Nuella is upset she’ll have to avoid the Harper’s cottage with Kindan living in it

Zist: If I’m going to raise this child then damnit I’m making him a harper

We’re getting much character stuff but not much actually interesting

Chimney got clogged at the big boss’s house, Kindan managed to save the lot by coming by and noticing, the existence of Nuella is now known to him.

Kindan can keep a secret, he is taking to harpering well

Mine’s having a lot of minor accidents

And now big boss’s wife’s baby is coming early, these fuckers just cannot catch a break

Nuella and her brother switching places back and forth so she can be involved in shit. Also she has some mind for healing

Zist had a daughter at one point- Carissa. Nice name

Also the baby is fine, a month early but fine. She doesn’t have a name yet, I will keep y’all updated

Chapter 5: “A baby’s cry, a mother’s sigh; Sweet things make a day go by”

Zist, having Kindan run around the camp telling adults what they need to do: It’ll be an interesting challenge for you Kindan, Telling the big boss that Zist offered to do his administrative work: He said it would be an interesting challenge for him

Oh shit Nuella is blind! Honestly, fucking slow clap for not making a big deal of it so far

The Traders have women of rank. I know this is a second Interval story but still, worth noting. Shit hasn’t gone completely to shit for the women yet

Nuella is having a crisis because she has no information including on things like ‘women don’t have to bake or be mothers, there are in fact options’. All of this is not helped by her mother stressing out about whether little Larissa is going to go blind like her sister did. Apparently shit went downhill when she was three and now her life is stress and isolation.

Okay, so Natalon’s mother was blind, and now his daughter is blind, and he’s trying to hide it from everybody for fear people are going to think there’s something wrong with him and will stop working with them and that nobody will want to marry his son. He’s given up on Nuella marrying. I want to smack him and adopt his children out to good homes.

Kindan, age 11, starting to realize girls can in fact be cute

Also they’re disguising her so she can play at the ‘yay there’s finally some new company for a few days’ Gather

Even Tarik’s fucking cronies don’t like him!

Nuella’s parents and brother are aware she’s there. No scene will be made.

Nuella getting to dance while Zist chides Kindan about not setting up his also 11-yo friends. “They’re too young to match, and you’re too young to be a matchmaker.”

Ooo, the mysterious missing 8th apprentice was a wherhandler and decided fuck that noise. Can’t blame him, I wouldn’t want ot deal with Tarik either

The assumption is he’d rather face his master’s wrath than work there, which peeps nothign that they’d all rather die than face their own masters’ wraths, and the noting that he may well have been worried about losing his wher to all this shit. Which makes sense with how hostile Tarik has made the place for them

Chapter 6: “Cromcoal, Cromcoal, burning bright; Warm the cold of winter’s night; Cromcoal Cromcoal, underground; Where the best of all coal’s found”

They are calling a dragon to take them to someone called Aleesa for, presumably, a wher egg. We are nearly halfway through this book, by the way, which is a little fucking late to finally be bringing in the wher egg but sure, fine.

Aleesa is the handle or a gold wher. Apparently the title for that is Master. So you get Weyrwomen and Whermasters. That’s pretty cool.

Kindan sees a dragon take note of the ‘we need a dragon’ flag and “Zist listened appreciatively and guided him to crafting a better tale, so that by the end of a sevenday, Kindan’s story took a full fifteen minutes to tell and left all eyes peering up to the sky, hoping for a glimpse of their own.”

Zist has Timed It before. Apparently he accidentally spooked a dragon hatchling when he was younger and they Impressed his friend and at some point he timed it to go back and help himself fix the damage the panicked bronze did. A bronze whose rider is now a Weyrleader, by the by. He’s figuring if it seems like they’ll miss their meeting to get the egg then hopefully they can Time It to get there on time.

Telgar Weyrleader D’gan shows up a week late, bitches about it not being an emergency, talks shit about everybody and everything, is lucky to leave with his life (I’d have killed him). Zist is, I assume, about to call Benden to actually get shit done.

“So, Kindan, what did you think of your first look at a dragon?” “Oh, they’re pretty enough, but you’d never fit one in a mine.”

Benden Weyrleader M’tal, being a proper fucking dragonrider who understands what his fucking duties are, is going to get shit done

People out here respecting whers and their importance, you love to see it.

Chapter 7: “Watch-wher, watch-wher in the mine; Help save life, yours and mine; Guide us in the darkest night; With your keen unfailing sight”

Gaminth reassuring Kindan as they travel Between.

“-to keep the hatchling warm until it’s second, tougher coat came in” Do, do whers shed their skin like birds molt baby fluff? Start with soft wherlet skin and then shed that for tough wher skin? I am amazed and also that’s adorable.

So, you’ve gotta convince the gold to let you pick one of her eggs to take with you. I presume if she says no and you press the matter she eats you.

Oh gods wherhandlers blood their children to their whers! Oh my gods that’s adorable! Make the babies pack! Gods how strong is that did Dask now how many of them were dead dear gods now I’m sad again-

Talking to the queen wher, being polite, sending her mental images, Kindan is a Good Boy

Wher eggs glow! Dimly but they glow! Also good boy Kindan, compliment those eggs!

Also they are half the size of dragon eggs and have wrinkles. (I assume wher eggs are more like snake eggs at first...)

“Eeny, meeny, tipsy, teeny, ah vu bumberosha, nineteen hundred and two, I pick you.” And he gets one with a ring around it in wrinkle.

Aleesa is a fucking Queen, sending Kindan, Zist, a Weyrleader, and the big boss away with a simple “You bore me.” She does make sure to compliment Kindan on a job well done and to reinforce that she expects her payment (which she’d have gotten either way, by the way, wher eggs are pricey and you’re paying for a shot at being allowed to have one)

On the topic of feeding wherlets:

“We’ve been experimenting, actually, on the best post-hatching meal. Watch-whers are not as insatiable as dragons, but they will gulp down meat and sometimes choke, as you know.” She pinned Kindan with a fiery glare, and he nodded as if he knew exactly what she meant. “D’you have oats?”

Kindan nodded, glancing over at Natalon to be sure he was also listening to Aleesa.

“Then arrange to get fresh blood from whoever butchers at the camp. Make porridge of the oats, using water, and add the blood as the oats thicken in the pot. I’d say a half-pail a day should be sufficient. If you keep the blood cool, a pailful should last over a day or two, no trouble. Most camps or Holds slaughter every other day. Feed it was often as it wants, and some of the liver and lungs that might go to waste otherwise. Don’t start meat hunks until three months, when it has enough back teeth to chew with. You can continue with porridge feeds in the morning until the hatchling starts to coats out.”

So the fuckers don’t start with all their teeth on top of everything.

Chapter 8: “Watch-wher, watch-wher in the egg; Grant to me the boon I beg”

This delight of a child is making porridge constantly so that it’ll be ready when the bab hatches. And then when it starts hatching he immediately darts for the porridge.

Bab eats like a fucking garbage disposal

She is also currently assumed to be green and apparently whers have notable enough bits to tell sex even if you can’t be sure of color

Kindan do not call the bab ugly, she is doing her best

“Did it give you a name?” “I didn’t ask.” “It is enough like a dragon to know it’s own name?” “I don’t know.”

“She’s not as big as I thought she would be.“

“Big enough to have the appetite of nine dragons,“ Kindan, almost proudly.

This girl is adorable

The Harper followed him out to the shed and greeted Zenor, who hadn’t moved from the spot in which Kindan had left him. The hatchling had been trying to crawl up his legs, her hungry bleek more insistent.

She has been blooded but not named. Kindan is moving in with her.

Nuella you’re a doll but if you can not assume that a baby can eat whatever an adult can eat, especially when Kindan is working off the knowledge of someone who actually, ya know, has experience with this shit? It’d be great.

The bab is now named Kisk and it’s pretty apparent she named her own damn self, for all that she didn’t use words.

Kindan, in a very 11-yo moment, wonders whether the WherMaster actually knows anything about raising whers since weaning his early worked out fine

Wherlet playing, I repeat, wherlet playing, far too adorable

Kisk is going to be a good little guard, already rooting out people who are where they shouldn’t be

Tarik’s wife likes whers! And is teaching her children to like whers! As all good people should!

Cristov, son of Tarik the Dick, is trying to make up his own mind about whers and-

Kisk darted her tongue out and licked Cristov’s outstretched hand before he could pull it bac,k. She made a sad, don’t-you-like-me noise at Cristov

Tarik: *talks shit like he’s got anything going for him* His Wife: *is gonna fucking smack him if he doesn’t start with some basic decency*

Kisk keeping Kindan up all damn night

Chapter 9: “Walk, baby, walk, come to me; Soon, baby, soon, you’ll walk away from me”

And now they’re trying to say Zenor and Nuella were born and raised in the camp despite saying earlier in the book that they’d been there less than a year two years ago.

Also at 3 months Kisk is 12 hands high at the shoulder and 40 from nose to tail. Which is about 4 ft by 13 ft, and still growing.

Kindan, hit with the sudden realization that oh, yeah, being a wherhandler is going to mean not being a harper

Nuella if anything the fact Kindan can’t see in the dark and doesn’t know where he’s going is all the more reason it’d be better training for Kisk to lead him than you, who knows this tunnel like the back of her hand, blind or no

Ooo, Tarik the Dick had a camp the failed, so now he’s all sour because his nephew’s doing better than him.

M’tal is here, Telgar is still bitches (what is it with Telgar being assholes?) and whers apparently don’t have the same problems with oiling and shit dragons do despite growing far faster which makes no damn sense but sure

Whers and dragons can chat amongst themselves, to the surprise of noone, or at least not me.

Nuella’s sweet on Zenor and honestly, go for it kiddo

Kisk is starting to learn.

Chapter 10: Hot air rises, cold air falls; These are thermodynamic laws

(Fuckers expect me to believe the Pernese couldn’t keep the word ‘year’ but ‘thermodynamic’ survived)

Nuella theorizing that whers see heat because she can feel it. I want to say it’s because she’s twelve and, as kids do, thinks she knows everything, but the more I read the more I’m fairly sure it’s just that the McCaffrey’s want her to be Amazing and The Best (which, ugh) and so are just, doing this. It doesn’t work.

Dragonriders here looking for a potential goldrider (very clearly Nuella from the conversation) and lamenting that based on the dragon’s description she might be blind and therefor ‘unable to Impress’ and just- Shit that makes you wanna throw things

Ya know they did so good before they revealed Nuella is blind. She was just another kid then, it was nice, but now... I love her but my hackles are raising

Also can I just say that whers seeing heat is the stupidest thing I’ve heard yet, given everything we know about their anatomy leads to them seeing in the darkness like everything else with massive fucking eyes and a nocturnal disposition.

Operation: Teach Whers to Bespeak Dragons During Emergencies is a go

Nuella claiming that whers can’t be taught to Between because nobody can see heat like they (apparently) can and we’re to take this as gospel despite the like, second thing Dask ever did on-page being to Between on his lonesome. Did these people not have editors? It didn’t seem so bad at first but as time goes on and we get more shit that contradicts other shit (we got contradicting information within pages of each other for fuck’s sake) I am slowly losing my mind

Tarik continues to be a dick and refuses to shore up his tunnels correctly. And he wonders why he lost his fucking camp.

Kindan saw through Kisk’s eyes during hide-and-seek

Chapter 11: “Watch-wher, watch-wher, guard us all; With your dragon-summoning call”

Turns out wherhandlers don’t take well to some dragonrider coming by and trying to teach them about their whers.

Nuella is being offered the chance to go teach whers to chat with dragons.

Everyone is supportive even while she has a quick little existential breakdown that’s probably been building for a while

We skip forward to Nuella going via dragon to Lemos to start her work. Dragons like her and she takes well to Between

Wherhandlers really can’t do well learning from dragonriders because their critters are so different

Nuella is good at what she does.

There’s far too much of old men going ‘*gasp* this child suddenly reminds me of [blank] they are amazing’ though

Whers and their handlers are learning

Turns out, surprise surprise, whers are awesome

Chapter 12: “Harper, harper, sing me a song; Give me a tune that lasts all day long”

Feels like it’s trying too hard...

Tarik the Dick has caused a cave-in and now is refusing to do anything about it because he is, well, see above

There is a now a team of rescuers, mostly kids, out to save the day via secret passage and wher

Nuella: Lolanth, I need your rider to send word to the MasterMiner and also get the pumps pulling air out the mines Lolanth: I have told my rider, and called Gaminth, he and his are coming, and I’ve called Ista, they’re coming, and I’ve told the miners-

Lolanth is a Good Dragon who apparently does not go halfsies

Lolanth got everyone and their grandmother to this camp within thirty seconds

On the one hand, blind characters getting to be awesome, one the other, this is really leaning towards Magically Disabled. Nobody can hear things like Nuella can, nobody can work with whers like Nuella can, nobody is as smart as Nuella is, she’s 12 and better than the majority of the adults around her, just, if they could fucking chill for five minutes.

Also people are alive on the other side of the cave-in

Finally Kindan remembers that Dask could Between, and I promise you it’s going to turn out that he was a miracle and only Nuella (who has no idea what’s on the other side of the cave-in) can show Kisk where she needs to go

Wow, it’s like I’m magic

Chapter 13: “Watch-wher, watch-wher, do you know; All the places you can go?”

I’m glad everybody who survived the cave-in is saved but we just got a fucking paragraph “But it is I who have been blind” speech from Nuella’s father and just. Kill me, please.

And Kisk has decided to swap handlers and be Nuelsk now.

And Kindan is going off to become a Harper.

Okay, not the worst book I’ve read. There were places that needed editing, there was a lot of shit that contradicted each other (Kindan’s everchanging number of siblings just being one example), it had plenty of the McCaffrey’s trademark Totally Accurate Science, and the longer I spent reading it the more it felt like one of those ‘see, disabled people can also do things and be capable’ stories complete with a fucking “But it is I who have been blind” (literal quote, kill me now). And this shit is from 2003. On the plus side though, there’s plenty of quality wher content and the kids are fun when the writers aren’t on their little Not A Soapbox.

Overall, a 6/10, if someone wrote an anosmiac character this way I’d want their head on a stick no matter how badass they were.

#achi liveblogs #dragonriders of pern #whers #long as fuck

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