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herstarburststories · 3 years

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the first step is always the hardest.

Pairing: au!dean winchester x reader

Summary: Huntercorp!Dean asks you out on a date.

A/N: I'm happy with how this one turned out. It's very different from my usual to do, but so cute! au!dean lives in my and in brazil right now sjhsjs. Anyway, this is my part for @firefly-in-darkness 2k challenge! Congrats again, honey. My prompt was “I’m just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe.” And this was requested by @anaelsbrunette.

Warnings: mutual pining and adorableness.

Some things aren't supposed to be hard. In Dean Winchester's opinion, this is one of them. What he's about to do isn't quite professional or preferred by his dad -- although, not exactly against HunterCorp's strict code of conduct. Alright, he might have to report to HR about the relationship due the anti-harassment policy if you two ever get that far, but that's another point. The fact right now is, it shouldn't be this hard to blurt out a simple 'would you like to go out with me?' towards the woman he had been pining for weeks.

Dean asked girls out before, and three out five said yes. Usually, his goofy way of flirting is enough to make them take the lead. When it doesn't happen, though, the Winchester laces his hang out proposal with wiggling brows and a suggestive smirk. They'd laugh and a date was settled.

He isn't shy. Dean gets embarrassed easily and yes, he is a little too spoiled to have a larger vision of the world, but he can get his way with the women he's interested in. Therefore, it shouldn't be that difficult, right? In theory, safely hiding in the back of his head, it isn't. The hunter remains passing some vague steps on his mind: 1.) Go to you. 2.) Try not to get lost at the sight of you. 3.) Don't try his Spanish to impress you because it's not going to work. 4.) Smile in a boyish way, just being cool. 5.) Ask you out. Samuel said it was a good plan. He just needs to execute it, get through his words and make them into actions.

So why is it so excruciatingly hard?

You, a HunterCorp's rookie, recently graduated in their new worldwide program to recruit willing hunters that weren't born in the life. You are smart, bilingual, pretty, strategic, spontaneous, and strong. You laugh loud as if joy should be going inside everyone's ear, but you also fight to kill with both words and trained combat skills. You, one of the best hunters of HunterCorp, which is the only thing Dean would ever try to say he was compared to you. You, Y/N Y/L/N, the girl with fancy red boots and tight jeans, is everything Dean never dreamed of and way out of his league.

You are a ferocious scream in civility that shakes his ground and makes him want to know how human savagery felt like after years being spoiled. You tease the green eyed hunter, never leading to evilness, and always with a beam that makes him feel lucky to be the fool to your kingdom. Dean feels comfortable with you, like taking his expensive socks off at home and chuckling with his mouth full, or even attempting a new food that makes his tongue experience marvelous flavors never felt before.

The eldest Winchester brother is almost dancing around his own feet for five minutes and counting. Gulping nervously every time he hears the noise of a door opening as he shuts his eyes, picturing the perfect ending of 'asking Y/N on a date' plan.

Okay, fine. Maybe he does have a reason for envisioning the possible difficulties of this situation. How could he not? Dean wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by asking you out again if you said no today. It's a now or never situation. How can he not be sweating in his levis?

“Duncan?” you ask, your voice exhaling a name that isn't his, but it catches Dean's attention nonetheless. He must have been listening what you were saying before even turning around to catch a glimpse of you. “Duncan!”

You poke his arm, causing him to move quickly to face you. Despite getting his name wrong, you look gorgeous: your hair was a mess like usual after spending too long in your office, sunglasses on the top of your head, and a joyful grin on your painted lips.

He straightens his posture to regain some confidence. “Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Your eyebrows knit together in a weight of confusion. "Who are you?"

This is it, his mind whispers. Rule number four, be cool. Say that thing that guy says in the movie which Sammy made you watch! Dean licks his lips, leaning against the counter. He shrugs, attempting to get in a persona that would only be him in another universe. “I’m just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe. You know, Dean Winchester.”

His shoulders drop as you let out a laugh, and suddenly the perfect threat in his fantasy became a funny joke. He doesn't even waste time being too embarrassed, though: he loves that sound.

“I'm kidding, Dean Winchester. I know who you are. You know, you're kind of the owner of this building?” you say humorously, pointing around the establishment.

Dean's brows arch quickly as he replies: “Technically, it's my father.”

“Who cares about the technical, right?” Of course you would say that with your own sequin smile and a playful wink. Who gives you the right to make his heart go wild? God, he sounds like a chick-flick. “Anyway, do you need something? I noticed you standing at my door.”

“Yes.” His stupendous moment. The stage is his and he better make it worth it. Dean's going to ask you out now, and then, he sees your features changing into curiosity. You're so adorable with your soft frown and head cocked, hair cascading down like one of the surrealistic paintings decorating his office walls. It reminds the Winchester of the way their brilliant colors and space tangle together to make something so gorgeous he couldn’t bear to give it another name but art. God, what if you say no? What if you say yes? What if everything is weird after that? “No. I mean, yes. I...”

“Are you okay?” You place a hand on his bicep. One touch, a blaze starting to burn in the best ways. His heart gives out, beating too crazily to be properly felt -- that doesn't help one bit.

“Yeah, this muchacho is okay.” Dean points at himself with two thumbs. Here goes all the rules in less than three minutes of chatting. He sighs to himself, offering you a pageant smile. “Just forget about it. I was going to ask for a report on your last hunt, but you can send it to my email.”

“Sure thing. I'll send you them after I come back from lunch. McDonald's waits for me.” The Winchester doesn't know if his mind is playing tricks on him, but he can swear he saw disappointment on your face. It could've been that tell, your hair brushing your lips like he craves to, or even how you blink so adorably under the dim light that makes a sudden glimmer of newfound courage hit him. Granted, it's with a trembling voice, but still.

“Maybe I could go have lunch with you?” Dean can practically hear his brother saying, be assertive, ask her out. He rushes to correct himself. “You. You could grab lunch with me. If you want. We could go have lunch together.”

“You like McDonald's?” You bit your bottom lip, arms crossed despite your subtle chortle.

“Of course.” Dean scoffs, gaining a glare of yours for a few seconds before he sighs with a shrug, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks. “No. Processed food isn't a thing in my house. Dad likes to spoil us with homemade meals and scotch.”

“Well, I'm sure John doesn't know how to cook quesadillas. I know the perfect place we can go.” You grab his wrist, and despite all empirical evidence to the contrary of such strong euphoria stemming from a simple touch, he goes against every scientific rule and gets to heaven on earth. “And Dean?”

His voice is lighter, happier by that mere gentle gesture which causes Dean's cheeks to dimple with branded delight as he answers: “Yes?”

You don't bother pulling your hand away. Instead, you intertwined your fingers, smiling like a baby when you notice his sweaty palm. At least you aren't the only nervous here. “Our second date will be at McDonald's.”

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chazz-anova · 3 years

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“I’ll need something stronger than this.” >:3

Oooh yes! Thank you love!

Okay so for this I’m thinking bartender!AU where Veronica is tending bar when hotshot lawyer John Seed comes in after a particularly rough day 👀

“Hey bartender, can I get some service please?”

Veronica’s head shot up from the glass she’d been cleaning, and she walked over to the patron. “What can I do for you?” She asked, pasting on a customer service smile.

The man sitting on the stool had a lecherous grin as he replied, “That depends girly, what all do you do?”

Scoffing, the woman said “The only thing I can do for you is get you a drink and tell you to get lost. What’ll it be?” Sufficiently turned down, he ordered a couple beers and walked off muttering to himself.

“Some people have no manners... or class.” Came a voice from behind Ronnie. Turning around, her gaze landed on another man at the opposite end of the bar. His tattooed hands clutched a bottle of brew as he locked eyes with Veronica, a smirk upon his features.

V chuckled, “That’s for sure. At least there appears to be some civilized company around.” She took in the rest of him as she strode over; he was wearing a navy blue suit that complimented his icy gaze. The jacket of the suit was open, and his tie hung loose around his neck. “Long day at the office?” She asked.

The man settled back in his chair, lifting the bottle to his lips for a swig. “If we’re gonna talk about work, I’ll need something stronger than this.”

“Consider it done, what do you do, stranger?” Veronica gave him a genuine smile and grabbed a small glass along with some whiskey.

Pushing his beer away, he gratefully took the whiskey. “Lawyer, so I’m sure you can imagine.”

The bartender leaned over the bar, “My my, got a name to go with the fancy job?” She asked, just the hint of a purr in her voice.

Whiskey swirling in it’s glass, the man’s eyes swept over her, lingering for a just moment at where one of the barkeep’s shirt buttons seemed strained as she leaned closer. “John.. John Seed. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with tonight?”

Tapping her name tag, she said “Veronica, but you can call me tonight.” V said with a wink.

John seemed almost taken aback, but recovered quickly with another sip of his drink. “You’re quite bold aren’t you?”

“If the world had no bold people, nothing would get done- in my opinion.”

He finished off his drink and set the glass down, when he met her eyes once more there was a heat to them. “I like that in a woman.”

There was a pause before her next reply, Veronica looked him up and down once more and licked her lips slowly. “I’m going to take a smoke break... I’ll be around back.” With that, the barkeep sauntered off; but not without a glance backwards to her newfound companion.

Taking the hint, John stepped off the stool and put a twenty dollar bill on the bar before heading out the front door. The lawyer wandered around back of the bar quickly, spotting Veronica instantly where she waited for him, smoking a cigarette leisurely. Upon seeing him, she snuffed it out and met him halfway.

“You know, I don’t normally do things like this.” John murmured, one hand going to her hip and another brushing a stray hair out of her face.

Veronica traced a finger down his chest, leaning up to kiss him almost gingerly on the lips. She moved away only a fraction before whispering, “You need to get out more, then.”

Undone with those words; both of the man’s hands found her hips and he turned her, guiding her backwards to the brick wall of the bar as their lips clashed fervently. The heat between them rising with every movement.

Putting her arms around him, V’s back met the wall. His hands traced the curves of her body eliciting soft noises from her. John held her thighs and hoisted her upwards, her legs wrapping around his torso readily.

Veronica bit his lip, quickly brushing her tongue over it after. John’s tongue encircled hers and they both let out a moan.

In the midst of this deep embrace, John braced Ronnie against the wall and one hand snaked up, brushing against her breast.

Suddenly, the sound of the back door clanging open drew the pair back from one another.

Like deer in the headlights, the couple froze, trying to see who was interrupting their tryst.

“Veronica. June. Rook. What on God’s green earth are you doing?” Came an almost motherly voice.

V’s eyes darted back and forth conspicuously. “Geez Mary May, I’m just taking a smoke break.”

An exasperated sigh came from the woman as she replied, “That does it, you are not allowed to fraternize with the customers anymore goddammit!” With that, she slammed the door and left the two in the darkness once more.

“Sorry, looks like I gotta go. Call me?” Ronnie gave John a grin and kissed him on the cheek, squirming out of his grasp to head back inside after Mary May.

John stood behind the bar, his brow furrowed. “What the hell just happened?”

So this got saucier than I intended, and I wasn’t 100% sure how to end it (Mary May to save the day lolol) but I hope this was good, I had a lot of fun writing it! 😂

Send me a dialogue prompt!

#exploring me and ronnie's inner thot #johns just like hold up #veronica rook #john seed #fc5 #far cry 5 #my writing

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verai-marcel · 4 years

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The Light That You Shine (RDR2 Fanfic, John Marston x F!Reader, Chapter 2 of 6, 18+)

Tags, Warnings, & Notes in Chapter 1.

AO3 Link is here.

Chapter 2 - Love Blooms

Word Count: 2333

You lugged the last bucket of fresh flowers off the delivery truck, placing it with the others at the back of the shop. Wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your gardening glove, you walked back to the truck to say goodbye to the driver.

"See you tonight, Uncle George! Thanks for the help!"

"No problem, sweetpea. Maddie is making lasagna tonight to celebrate."

You squealed with delight and waved goodbye as he drove back to the nursery that he and your aunt owned. As you walked back to the shop, you reminisced on the road that life had taken you.

You grew up with plants, knew how to take care of just about anything that grew from the land. When you were in ninth grade, you decided that you wanted to open up a flower shop, and while your parents wanted you to go to college, you were stubborn. Reading about starting your own business and working your summers at the nursery, you finally convinced them to let you follow your dream.

But on the day you graduated from high school, when you should have been walking across a stage to accept your diploma, you were instead in an ER waiting room, being told, in no uncertain terms, that your parents did not survive the car crash.

Two years later, the pain was still fresh. But they had taught you to live your life by moving forward and doing your best, to love the world, and to see the good in everything, even when things were down.

So you moved on with your life, determined to not let your sadness get you down. After all, you knew that they'd want to see you thrive.

But some nights were worse than others.

Your parents had willed you everything, and with those funds, you rented a live-work unit with a small shop downstairs and a studio apartment above it. You were planning to put your all into your business, marketing on social media and researching floral trends to stay up to date so that you could stay ahead.

You stayed so busy preparing to open your shop, in fact, that you didn't have time to be sad. No time to think meant no time to be depressed.

It helped that Aunt Madeline, or Aunt Maddie as you usually called her, and Uncle George immediately came over after the accident and helped you sort everything out, from supporting you emotionally to aiding you in figuring out the estate sale and everything else in between. If not for them, you would have been in a far worse place, mentally, financially, and physically. You had been living with them two towns over until yesterday, when you finally finished moving everything over to your new place. It had taken a week of steadily packing and moving and unpacking your things, but you were done with that part.

Now for the exciting task.

You looked around the empty shop, seeing in your mind's eye where your displays were going to go, what colors you were going to make the walls, where your work table would be set up, everything.

Stretching your arms above your head, you put your headphones on and got to work.

***

John loved the open road. Driving between towns where there was almost nothing but farmland and blue skies, he felt free. Glancing at his mirror, he saw Arthur following him on his Indian Scout, a content look on his face.

He must be enjoyin’ himself, he thought as he revved his engine and took the highway exit. It had been a long time since he had passed through this small town. He wondered if one of his favorite fast food places was still around.

Arthur followed, giving him a ‘what the hell’ look as he pulled up next to him at the stop light.

“Felt like lookin’, s’all!” John yelled.

“You wanted a damn burger, more like!”

“You don’t have to come!”

“I ain’t missin’ Buffalo Joe’s!”

The light turned green and they sped off.

***

You were in the middle of washing your store windows when two men came walking up to you, looking confused.

“Can I help you with something?” you asked kindly, though their tough exteriors put you slightly on guard. Can’t judge by how they look, you reminded yourself.

One of the men had on a cowboy hat and five o’clock shadow, with eyes the color of an atoll island. He looked at the other man, with his leather jacket and torn jeans, looking like he stepped out of an 80s music video. His shoulder length dark brown hair looked thick and luxurious, and his warm grey eyes looked around before they came to rest on you.

“Uh, excuse me, miss, but was there a burger place called Buffalo Joe’s around here?”

You blinked. His voice was like electricity running through your body; you hadn’t expected that reaction and had to pause a moment before replying. “Sorry, that place closed a year ago,” you said. “It was here though.”

The man cursed.

“John!” the other man mumbled angrily.

John looked back at you, his eyes softening. “I’m sorry, just…”

“Miss the place?” you offered with a smile.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Well, the owners opened up a new restaurant two blocks down the road called Triple Patty’s. Same burgers, but dressed up a bit.”

He lit up at the news, and his smile immediately charmed you. Despite his rough get-up, he suddenly looked younger and more innocent. “Thanks for the tip.” He turned to his friend. “C’mon Arthur, you can buy me a burger.”

Arthur snorted. “You ain’t pretty enough for chicken nuggets, let alone a burger.”

You laughed at John’s offended expression. “Have fun, you two.”

John waved at you, shooting you a cheeky grin as he left with Arthur, and you found your eyes following the shape of his back as he walked away.

***

“Hey. Earth to John.”

“Huh? What do you want?”

“You been spacing out since we got here, you still thinkin’ about Dutch?”

“What? No. Can’t do nothin’ about him.”

“Then… oh. I see. I see what’s goin’ on here.”

John put down his burger and glared at Arthur. “And what exactly is goin’ on?”

“The girl.”

He picked his burger up and took a couple more bites before speaking again. “What about her?”

“You wanna talk to her again."

John's shrug was anything but nonchalant. "She was cute. Who wouldn't want to talk to her?"

Arthur's chuckle was equal parts teasing and sympathetic. "Go talk to her. I'll meet you back at the club."

John blinked, surprised. Then he narrowed his eyes. "What's the catch?"

"Can't I do anything nice for you without arousin' suspicion?"

"No," John answered flatly. He finished his burger, glaring at Arthur.

Arthur laughed. "Go on, get goin' before you miss her."

John gave him one final glare before he took off without a look back.

Arthur waved down a waitress and paid the bill. As he left the restaurant and walked back to his motorcycle, he looked in the direction that John was headed.

“Good luck, kid.”

***

You were carrying a large box when you heard a voice from outside the shop. You set the box down on the back counter and turned around.

John waved, a sheepish grin on his face.

Coming back to the entrance, you opened the door. "Hi!" you said cheerfully. "Did you want a different restaurant?"

"Ah, no, that place was great! I just wanted to thank you again…" He trailed off as his eyes took in the disaster zone that was your shop in progress. "You, uh, need a hand with anything?"

"Oh, no, I got this," you immediately replied, not wanting to trouble a complete stranger with some of the hard labor that you had planned.

"Please," he said, stepping closer. His earnest expression tugged at your heart, and you found yourself unable to tell him no again.

"Well, if you insist, then could you help me carry a couple of boxes from my car?"

***

Somehow three hours passed before you knew it, and as John helped you move the last display case into place, you noticed the sun was setting.

"Oh my god, I didn't realize how late it was!" You turned to him, about to ask him something when you caught him stretching, his arms pulling at the tight shirt, showing his muscles bulging. A bead of sweat glided down his neck, and you suddenly had a strong urge to lick it. Then he turned to you, and you discovered that his eyes were a unique mix of grey and hazel; caught in the beauty of them, you were stunned to silence.

“What?”

You quickly pulled yourself back to reality. "Uh, I really appreciate all your help today. Can I buy you dinner?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he said with a wry grin. "You beat me to it."

You laughed, utterly charmed by him. "So I win?”

“I guess so.” He came closer to you. Your heart started to beat faster as you realized that he really was a very attractive man. “How about I buy you dinner first, then you can buy me one. Don’t feel right getting two meals in a row.”

You grinned. What a sly fox, getting you to agree to two dates at the same time.

Wait, was he asking you out on a date?

You froze. You hadn’t had much time to date, not since your life had changed so drastically two years ago. And even in high school, your ‘dates’ were just going to the movies with a boy and then going home right afterwards. You looked at John, his poise full of self-assuredness, as if he walked through life knowing his place in the world, and wondered for a split second what it would be like to get close to a man like this.

You were so deep in your own mind that you hadn’t noticed when he had taken a few more steps closer to you. Now he was within arm’s reach of you. He called your name out softly, his eyes focused on you.

“I, uh, yes. Two dates. I mean dinners. Two dinners. Sounds good to me,” you stammered.

He smiled knowingly at you; he had heard your faux pas and had commited your words to memory. “Great, glad to hear it.”

***

You gave John one of your newly printed business cards, too excited about the fact that you had business cards to worry about how silly of an act it was. But he took the card and drew a heart on the back of it as he wrote down your personal phone number. After adding your number to his phone and texting you so you had his number as well, the two of you planned for a dinner date the next night, and he took off. As you watched him ride away, you wondered if you were wise in following your gut rather than your logic.

Locking up your shop, you got in your car and drove to your aunt & uncle’s house, looking forward to Aunt Maddie’s lasagna for dinner.

***

You spent the next day working on the orders that had already been placed, mostly by friends and relatives who wanted to support your business. You were grateful for their support and worked diligently, mulling over your designs again and again, agonizing over every choice. It was their orders that you were going to use to start your social media accounts to advertise, so you wanted to make sure they were absolutely perfect.

You were so wrapped up in your work that you didn’t notice how fast time had flown.

“Hey,” John said casually as he walked through the double glass doors.

You poked your head up past the half wall that separated your work area at the back of the shop from the retail area. You saw him looking quite cleaned up, dressed in a dark green button up short sleeve shirt, which he wore open over a plain white shirt, with faded blue jeans.

And you promptly panicked.

“Oh my god, I forgot the time, I’m so sorry!” You started to clean up your tools, but when you looked back at the bouquet you were working on, you started wondering if you should’ve added that tiger lily or not.

“Are you in the middle of work?” he asked, coming closer. He looked at your bouquet and tilted his head.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“Looks a little too orange,” he said bluntly.

You looked back at the bouquet. He was right. You took out the tiger lily, setting it aside.

“You didn’t have to change it,” he said as you turned the bouquet on its lazy susan, observing it from all angles.

“No, you were right, it seemed a little too warm. Needs some cooler colors to balance it.” You grabbed some bellflowers and added them around the edges instead. “Perfect.” Turning to him, you smiled, happy with your work. “Thanks!”

John smiled and looked down at his feet. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled. He looked up again. “Shall we go, my lady?”

You laughed. “Wow, a gentleman.” You looked down at yourself; you were wearing a dumpy black T-shirt with a pair of bright purple denim shorts, all under your florist apron.

“Um, can you give me some time to shower and get dressed?”

John leaned in and sniffed your neck. “You smell like flowers. And you look good.” He pulled back, unaware of the effect his action and his comments were having on your heart. “But if you want to, I’ll wait.”

You looked at the clock that you had hung on the back wall. You looked back at John, who was looking at you like he wouldn’t care if you were wearing a potato sack, he would have still said the same thing.

“Nah, fuck it, let’s go.”

-------------------

Chapter 3

#john marston #john x reader #biker au #rdr2 fanfic #modern au #fanfic #writing #nsft #eventual smut

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imagines-oneshots-blog · 4 years

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Hello my Lovely Readers, it’s time for Work in Progress Wednesday!! This round is for my fic, Blood and Gold and Bedroom Eyes featuring John Wick x Reader!! As many of you have probably seen (and quite possibly be annoyed by), I’ve fallen into a major dumpster for John Wick/Keanu Reeves as of late, and the inspiration has kicked in to pick up this fic again!! So for today’s WIP Wednesday I’ll be sharing a clip from Chapter 4 of BGBE with you all! I have to be honest friends, I got a little carried away with this one…I have 5,000 words and I’m not even through HALF of the plots points I wanted to fit into this chapter! 😲 So needless to say this next update will be a honkin’ one lol. It’s still very much in the editing stage and therefore is subject to change, but please do enjoy, I can’t wait for you all to read this one!! ❤️❤️❤️ Tags: @raspberrymama - I know you’ll love this one, girl! Anyone else that wants to be tagged in future updates, just shoot me a message and let me know!

Chapter 4: Death and the Maiden

I. Of Monsters, Men, and Torrid Truths

The hum of the Mustang’s engine rumbled beneath John’s seat like the grumble of a disgruntled beast, one with skin made of metal and a bleeding molten heart hewn of iron and pistons and gasoline. Well, that makes two bleeding hearts in this car, John mused wryly. But at least his was forged from flesh and blood and costly promises. If someone had him cornered, a gun held to his head and his hands tied behind his back, demanding to know what in all of heaven and earth had spurred him to offer his home to you as a temporary hideout from that sleazy gangster Ritchie and his hitmen, John would have had to send a prayer to whatever god of death would listen to the devil and prepare to meet them soon, because he had no good answer to that particular question. It wasn’t that John couldn’t be honest with himself, in fact he made it a nearly infallible habit to embrace the truth, no matter how damning, but the simple fact was that he just didn’t know. He didn’t have a name for the molten sensations that bloomed in his chest each time he stole a glance at you curled up in the passenger’s seat, your bare dainty feet tucked beneath you, your head resting on the pillow of your entwined arms propped up against the door, a stray curl kissing the silken curve of your cheek as you dozed. He couldn’t identify the source of the fierce protective need he felt twitching the tendons of his trigger finger, tensing the wearied line of his shoulders, every time he remembered the crude comments of that lumbering, tattooed thug he’d dispatched in the hallways of the club. He had no classification for the tenderness that ached in his chest at the trust lilting in your touch as you’d slipped your hand in his, your fingers steady despite the damning crimson spilled across his palm, no justification for why the innocence banked in your glinting gaze when you smiled up at him could briefly stop his heart. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t want to admit it to himself quite yet. Besides, John reasoned as an igneous slip of heat settled with wicked intent between his hip bones, though you were many things, you weren’t really all that innocent, were you? Before each one of your pre-scheduled back room meetings John would sit in that velvet lined chair and wage a brutal, silent war with himself, stalwartly battling the impulse to imagine what lace hewn, daydream inducing creation would grace your gorgeous body today. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he’d lost every time. He’d particularly enjoyed the strappy red gossamer and brocade number you had worn to your penultimate encounter; blooming thickets of embroidered crimson flowers and sheer mesh hiding the more tantalizing bits of your billowing body from him even as it had bared everything else for his greedy gaze. John found it shockingly enticing to see that deadly color splashed against exposed flesh in a markedly more alluring form, a stark juxtaposition to the typical rending of flesh and the slashing of throats that he was accustomed to. John would be lying if he said that in those charged midnight hours spent tossing in his lonely bed, his battered mind left to wander freely, he hadn’t imagined stripping one or two of those wicked outfits off of you with both seeking fingers and nipping teeth, unwrapping your lithe, stunning body like a present. Hungry for thoughts that weren’t tinged with sorrow or bloodshed, he’d close his eyes and wonder how your soft, luminous skin would heat beneath his calloused palms, if you’d part your legs eagerly for him, grant him access to the hallowed cradle of your thighs. Would you lick those tempting ruby lips and sigh against his mouth, desire coiling thickly in that lilting sirens voice of yours as you beg him to touch the billowing wealth of curves waiting beneath his fallow fingers?

And then he’d rail at himself, chastising his baser impulses with stark reminders that you were so young; a decade younger than him at least, maybe more. And then a fresh round of castigations would begin because that fact really shouldn’t send a searing frisson of heat skittering down his spine, curling devilishly low in his belly, but Jesus fucking Christ, did it ever. No matter how much John tried to evade it, the simple fact was that even with smudged eyeliner, a tired smile, and dark circles splayed above your cheekbones, you were still the most stunning thing within miles of this shitty metropolis. Huffing in a slow, deep breath, John forced his mind to fixate on safer things than the tempting curve of your cupid’s bow, on the plan. Now that the hard part of extracting you from danger was done you would hide out at his house for a while, laying low long enough for Winston to dig up the locations of Ritchie’s safe houses, and then for John to hunt down each and every member of Ritchie’s entourage before he finally took care of the gun-toting mobster himself. John had known many gangsters in his life, thugs whose malice ranged from relatively harmless to utterly savage, had done each one of their bidding for the price of a glinting, garish, golden coin, but something about Ritchie made John’s stomach turn. A quiet voice in the back of his head supplied that it was probably because Ritchie had known you, had touched you and tasted you and still ordered your death, and that lack of loyalty colored his resentment with a particular bitterness that was tinged with what could almost be perceived as jealousy, but John stalwartly reasoned that mostly it was the company Ritchie kept, or perhaps even the man himself. Regardless, John was glad to finally have someone truly deserving in his sightlines.

Despite the fact that bloodshed was still a part of his dossier, at least the right people were in his crosshairs now. In fact, it felt good, cleansing almost, to have a new purpose, a hard-won sense of freedom, the power to act on his own will instead of the corrupted appetites of gang bosses and greedy assassins.

John’s mind remained occupied with the finer details of his mission as he drove into the night, his thoughts turning to the tracking of mob members and the infiltration of safehouses as the bright neon lights of the city faded steadily into industrial parks and highways and manicured green lawns. He had just settled on the order in which he’d dispatch the various branches of Ritchie’s crime syndicate when the Mustang’s tires crunched onto the familiar gravel of his driveway.

You were still asleep when John put the car in park, letting the engine idle as he cast an appraising eye over your slumbering form. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers frozen on the steering wheel. It was strange, bringing another woman into the sanctum of his house - into he and Helen’s house - as heavily laden with memories as it was. For the length of a heartbeat John wondered if this was a mistake, if his desire for redemption, for justice, had led him straight into a severe lapse of judgement, but then you sighed in sleep and shifted towards him a measure, the palm you had resting in your lap tilting upwards as if begging him to slip his fingers into the spaces between your own, and John finally had to remind himself of his wife’s last request and admit to himself that much of the former magic of his home had faded. Too many ghosts lived there now.

And besides, there was nowhere else safer for you than right here by his side, with him to protect you, to safeguard you.

In the devil’s own domain, John thought with a humorless chuckle.

Though he’d never say it out loud and risk losing the hard-won status he’d painstakingly built over his long bloody life, John looked upon his monstrous reputation with a healthy measure of disdain so fierce, it could resemble hatred in the right light. Even though he was The Boogeyman, the assassin that every killer feared, a murderer with more red in his ledger than could ever be wiped clean, John desperately wanted to be someone who was thought of with more than terror-tinged reverence, careful apprehension, and forced civility. He wanted to be regarded the way Helen used to look at him; with soft smiles and smooth brows and glinting, gentle eyes that held nothing but a simmering measure of fondness so sincere, it made his throat suddenly tight and his heart a size too large for his battered chest.

The way you had looked at him tonight.

And with this one last job, one final flurry of guns and carnage and glinting golden coins, he just might be able to secure a measure of that once more, redeem the sliver of his soul that wasn’t damned to writhe in the fiery pits of hell for all the death he had dealt.

So, after a steeling breath and a silent plea sent desperately to whatever blood-soaked deity would still heed him, John reached out a steady hand and gently shook you awake.

#WIP Wednesday #Work in Progress Wednesday #Fanfiction #John Wick #Keanu Reeves

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Superman & Lois Episode 4 Review: Haywire

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This Superman & Lois review contains spoilers.

Superman and Lois Episode 4

One of the most tired arguments in comics is about whether or not Superman is too powerful to tell good stories with. The plethora of exceptional, meaningful, moving Superman stories out there should put that argument to bed for good, but if they haven’t, feel free to direct anyone making it to “Haywire,” the fourth episode of what’s shaping up to be one of the best Superman arcs ever.

To my mind, the key Superman conflict has nothing to do with his power level and everything to do with the fact that he can’t be everywhere at once. He is a man who wants to help everyone, but has to prioritize where he can be and how much time he can stay there, and those choices all have consequences. That’s basically the thesis statement of this episode: Clark is being pulled in a thousand different directions at once, with his father-in-law climbing on his back about not being seen enough in Metropolis; an Intergang prisoner transfer going down; Morgan Edge about to close the deal on a mine outside of Smallville and Lois trying to run headfirst into Edge; and the boys trying to navigate school and also one of their classmates developing super speed.

But the thing that makes this episode, and the show as a whole, such a good Superman story isn’t necessarily the content of the story. It’s the storytelling, too. Superman & Lois excels at showing and telling. It weaves the three storylines – Clark, Lois and the kids – in and out, contrasting points against each other by bouncing from scene to scene to heighten the point. There are two spots this week where this is really well done.

The first is about midway through the episode. Lois’ big Morgan Edge expose in the Gazette has been spiked by a lawsuit threat – turns out Lois, a star reporter at a major metropolitan newspaper, had a noncompete WHODATHUNK (note: see the mailbag for who indeed thunk). So she pushed it off on Clark, who, as a well known mediocrity, had no such legal conflict, and was planning to bring up the issue in the big town meeting where Smallville was voting on granting Edge’s Intercorp mining rights to the party spot from the first episode.

Meanwhile, the Department of Defense was moving a super-prisoner out of town because Superman’s lack of presence in town was making the authorities skittish about keeping him in town. And at the same time, Sam Lane was giving the kids a hard time about being too needy now that they know their dad was Superman, because the rest of the world needed him more.

Of course, nothing works out right. Superman takes way too long on a wild goose chase, so Edge wins the town vote nearly unanimously, while the stuff with Jordan and Jon takes some time to blow up.

The performances really carry this sequence over. Hoechlin’s Clark agonizes over missing the vote and practically begs Tulloch’s Lois to be mad at him, and their argument is so natural and honest feeling that it’s immediately relatable.

Later, when the family finds out what Sam said to the kids, there’s an argument in the farmhouse that is also immediately recognizable and yet perfectly performed. Clark is pissed at Sam, but Superman’s anger is so often played as some world-ending threat, with glowing red eyes and menacing body language, yet here Hoechlin plays it completely straight – as an angry dad dealing with a shitty in-law. I’m sure we’re going to keep talking about this as the show goes along, but the amount of acting Hoechlin and Tulloch do with only their body language, and the way it conveys exactly who Superman and Lois are both alone and in relation to each other is a HUGE part of the mastery of this show.

The only problem I have with the episode is how it’s all a path to Sam’s radicalization into creating Project 7734. This is pretty BS for a couple of reasons: first, there’s no way the shady-ass government doesn’t already have a similar contingency plan (or 6) for dealing with a rogue Superman; and second, I know the episode is all about what a terrible parent he is, but I really can’t wrap my head around turning on Superman because he’s spending too much time with your grandkids. Maybe that’s what makes Sam a villain, but it’s also what makes this Superman the best he’s been so far in an already great show.

Metropolis Mailbag

Thaddeus Killgrave is a weaselly little shit created in the 1980s as a weapons designer for Intergang. The Killgrave we see on screen bears little resemblance to his comics version, where he was almost childlike in his stature. Instead, this bearded, bedraggled, mouth-noise-making character actually looks a lot like his creator, John Byrne.

Superman’s call sign when he’s working with the Department of Defense is “Bishop 6.” So…uh…does Sam Lane work for Checkmate? Checkmate is one of the various super-clandestine services operating in the DC Universe (along with Task Force X/Suicide Squad, Spyral, Kobra, Argus, the D.E.O., and on and on and on). Checkmate was first seen in Action Comics in the late 1980s and has counted among its members any number of famous DC heroes, from Deathstroke to Alan Scott and Mr. Terrific.

We have confirmation here that Morgan Edge is running a company called “Intercorp.” The Inter- prefix usually has connotations with Intergang (which is also present in the show), a gang of thugs organized by Bruno Mannheim, usually working for Morgan Edge in some capacity, and all functioning as a subsidiary of Apokalips. Intergang was created by Jack Kirby when he first started on Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olsen #133, recently reprinted in a gorgeous absolute edition which is worth every single penny.

Calling the mines “Shuster Mines” is a nice touch, especially when they get bought out by a big company and filled with Superman’s only weakness.

Speaking of callbacks to Grant Morrison’s run, Glenmorgan Square is likely named after Glen Glenmorgan, a minor throwaway villain from the very beginning of Morrison’s Action Comics.

It’s not really an easter egg or anything, but I want it to be known that when Lois walked into the local paper’s office, I texted someone else watching and said “she definitely has a noncompete.” I’m glad the show also remembered this so I could be proven correct.

X-Kryptonite is a deeeeeep cut. Supergirl originally created X-Kryptonite as an antidote for green k. But she made it wrong, and it ended up being able to give anyone powers who was exposed to it. Including her otherwise normal Earth cat, Streaky. Yes this was 1960, why do you ask?

Tag’s emerging powers are a lot of vague references all in one. The super healing and the fast movement are pretty clearly emerging speedster powers, but he doesn’t have any other characteristics of Flashes. Besides getting his powers from a mysterious energy discharge hitting a bunch of weird chemicals. That said, Sam was probably talking out of his ass when he blamed phosphorus for Tag’s powers, considering they were partying on top of a pile of power-giving crystals when it happened.

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Sam also says Tag is being sent to a “special school” for kids with powers, which…it’s weirdly early to be introducing Titans Academy to the TV shows, isn’t it? That new feature of the Infinite Frontier DCU is the only school for gifted youngsters I can think of that would fit the bill, but sound off in the comments if you know what he’s talking about! God I hope it’s not HIVE…

The post Superman & Lois Episode 4 Review: Haywire appeared first on Den of Geek.

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poopy-pants-gremlin · 4 years

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Might delete this later idk, but I was tagged by @naia10101 , and if you tag me in something I feel it's my duty to do it.

Your name and what you would have named yourself

My real name is Garthamon the Destroyer, and I've always loved the name Tyler for some reason. That's why I named my lil baby Tyler (rip)

Astrological sign

I stan Buffo the Toad

When did you join Tumblr and why?

Earlier this year I think? Because I love me some Goblincore, Clown husbandry and Vulture Culture and I wanted to get in on that.

Top 5 fandoms

I mean, the only fandom I've ever fully considered myself a part of and am still very much active in is REDACTED .Other then that I'm definitely the kind of fan who loves to therorise and appreciate fan art, but I don't really interact with other fans. I'm mega into Gravity Falls, BBC Ghosts and The Mystery Skulls Ghost videos.

Top 5 movies

GREMLINS 2!!!!! OH MY LORD GREMLINS 2!!!! THAT'S MY DREAM PROJECT!! JUST BASICALLY MESSING AROUND WITH PUPPETS!!!! ARRRRGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

The Shape of Water, Dirty Dancing, Deadpool and Deadpool 2

Fun fact about me - I can recite the first Spongebob movie off by heart

Go to song when you want to feel

WE'RE NO STRANGERS TO LOOOOOOOOOVVVVVEEEEEEEE 😭

YOU KNOW THE RULES

AND SO DO IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII 😭😭😭

I do have a sad bois playlist but that's PRIVATE

What is your religion or faith if you have one?

[NOPE]

Do you have a type?

Short, green and say NYA NYA NYA

What does your heart/soul yearn for?

👏 GEN 👏 4 👏 REMAKES 👏

[I was a fool blinded by my hybris]

If you had to describe yourself in 5 words to someone you don’t know

I'd say "Shiny things and animals please"

Favourite subject in school?

Computing, because Mr Gordon was Rad!

ALSO THE PUPPETRY UNIT IN COLLEGE, YEAAHHHH BAABBBIIEEEEE!!!!!!

Top 5 fictional characters

Uuuumm I mean I love The Faun and the Pale Man from Pan's Labyrinth, the Amphibian man from the Shape of Water and the Brain Gremlin from Gremlins 2 but that's because I fangirl over practical effects.

And obviously I love all the ghosts from BBC's ghosts

Top 3 moments that made you ugly cry

The end of the John Lewis 2011 Christmas advert, The canyon jump in Spirit and when I booted up Pokémon Diamond for the first time in years

The earth, the sun, the moon or the stars

MMOOONNNAAAAHHHHHH

Favourite kind of weather

Snow!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Favourite medium of art?

Umm… the best one? And the only correct answer to this question????

PUPPETS BABBBIIIIEEEEEEEE !!!!!!!!!!!!!

YEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Introvert/ambivert/extrovert

Depends on my mood tbh

A favourite literary quote?

“Sometimes a man has to steal an animatronic badger to make it in this crazy game called life”

Some of your favourite books

I don't really read that much anymore. I loved the How to Train Your Dragon series as a kid, and I genuinely love Of Mice and Men, The Lord of the Flies and To Kill a Mockingbird but they all make me cry and now I don't need to read them for work I'll probably never put myself through that again.

I'll tell you a book I HATE! Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, if you're ever told to read it RUN! 5 YEARS!!!! 5 BLOOMIN YEARS I HAD TO RE READ IT OVER AND OVER AGAIN!!!!

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

One specific house, overlooking a specific harbour in Scotland.

I baggsied it, I baggsie it every year, thems the rules!

If you could live in any time in history when would it be?

If this is a "go back in time and do what you want, it doesn't affect the future" situation I'd 100% love to go on a prehistoric roadtrip and visit as much as pre human history as I could, maybe take a couple of animals back like a Mammoth or two to save the species??

Nigel Marvin… I'd like to be Nigel Marvin

If you could play any instrument masterfully what would it be?

I feel like this is a personal attack on me, I will play the drums again I swear but thems loud bois and I live in a terrace house!

If you have one, what mythological gods/goddesses do you feel a connection to

Uuuuummmmmm none really, I am very much oooohhh the Fae though.

And lastly, favourite recent selfie on your camera roll

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ofravensandgenesis · 4 years

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Meme Tag Games!

Thank you for all the lovely tags!! :D <3 This is quite belated but between some health happenings, the weather deciding to turn the thermostat way up (and the house AC went out), and other stuff, I got swamped for a while there. Here we are now though! :D Tagging anyone who wants to jump in on any of these, namely FC5 GFH tag game; OC Fighting Style; and WIP Day. Continued below the cut because this got long:

FC5 Guns For Hire Meme Game

Tagged by @chyrstis and @amistrio for the FC5 GFH meme, thank you for the tag!! :D <3 We have full length responses with some banter with the human GFH in particular here. I was kind of stumped with how to answer this for Joshua in what he might say as a GFH since his verse is very tailored for him being the Deputy and all the psychic shenanigans. Eventually I got over that and this is basically an AU where there’s another (unnamed here) Deputy who IS slated to be The Deputy that Joshua is trying to help (and convince to do less murder) to explain how he fits into a verse as a Gun For Hire. Psychic shenanigans still happen in this AU of an AU ofc, just it’s perhaps less prominent. We’re skipping over possible musings of relevant sidequests for Joshua relating to the Seeds in this for the sake of time, though I acknowledge that it’s something to explore, likely would impact the endgame with the Heralds, cult, and Joseph depending on the Deputy’s choices of doing a Kill or No-kill run. This verse also assumes that Joshua, the Deputy, Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson all got away or were not present for the helicopter crash. Other characters minor and otherwise who are alive in Joshua’s main fic verse ACABH are the same as in that story thus far, such as Rae-Rae and Ryan being alive. We’ll also presume the Seeds are all still alive at the time of these dialogue lines.

Deputy Joshua Raguel Rook

(All images used were public domain and/or labeled free for reuse under creative commons license. Above image was sourced from [here.]) With Fangs for Hire

Boomer: “Hey there boy, how’re you feeling today? Got some venison strips saved for you, you eating enough with all this running around?” [cue more small talk and praise for Boomer about how Boomer’s doing such a good job and Joshua feeding Boomer bits of cooked meat. Will likely sing snatches of cheery dog-themed songs he’s heard when in the party with Boomer and there’s no enemies nearby.]

Peaches: “...I hope that’s not people-meat in your teeth, Peaches, you know how Miss Mable feels about that, it’s bad for your health. I’m also not quite brave enough to want to brush your teeth—though maybe Dr. Lindsey or Wade can offer advice on that. We’ll get you some nice fish instead, that’s a good kitty.” [He’s a bit more shy around Peaches than Boomer bc cougar, but an effort at friendliness will be made.]

Cheeseburger: “...that is one big bear. He’s a sweetheart though. Just...hoping he doesn’t make a mistake of who he’s barreling into. It’s not like we’re wearing team colors or anything.” [Cheeseburger is a sweetie and Joshua likes him, but also: bear. Joshua’s a bit wary around him, but will still feed Cheeseburger salmon when able. May crack a joke paralleling Cheeseburger going “Only You Can Prevent Cult Gun Fire.” Will not crack this joke after any Jacob-region events though.]

With Other Guns for Hire:

Sharky

Sharky: So amibro, I was thinking, you know how those Angels are all dead in the head and stuff? How are they still shuffling around, is the Bliss like a zombie plant or something? Joshua: ...no, that’s more in line with the aliens that Larry keeps going on about I’m sure. Something about brainmelting and bendy straws, I got lost when he started mentioning Navier-Stokes equations for how the...resulting brain juice would be redirected. [Shuddery noise of disgust.] I’m not sure if he’s serious or just fucking with me and referencing Guy’s zombie movie series at this point. Could be either or. The Bliss is more like...like...uh. Like if you lost the keys to your car, but the car’s your body. You get me? Sharky: Damn, remind me never to OD on the stuff, I lose the keys to my car all the time. Sometimes I can’t be bothered to find em and just jiggle the lock so I can hop on in to hotwire the car because I’m in a hurry, you know? Ladies love a man who’s good with his hands, and who’s good with time and can improvise. You think that’d work on the Bliss car keys? Joshua: Maybe? Not everyone seems to be as readily lost to the Bliss at the same amounts. Personally I’d wager you’d be able to find your way back to your body no matter where you were in the bliss if we stood you near a signal fire. Sharky: This is why we’re friends man! Ride or die! ...also can you help me find my keys with that trick of yours, I lost ‘em again. Joshua: Yeah, though did you check under your bed? Also, maybe hang your regular set and a spare set of keys on a hook by the door so you can always find them, just in case you’re in a hurry.

Hurk

Joshua: Hurk. [Said in a Mild, Judgmental Voice of Impending Doom From A Friend kind of tone.] Hurk: Hey man I didn’t do nothin’ to deserve that tone of voice now don’t you start on me. Joshua: How can you say that when you and Sharky went and invented zipline grenade-golf without me last night? And blew up part of the mini-YES-sign. Hurk: Oh man you were talking up Lindsey and with the way the two of you were smiling and laughing, we figured you might be getting lucky so like the proper supportive wingmen me and Sharky were, we left you gentlemen some of our finest booze and sticky green. You did find it didn’t you, I’d hate to waste the gifts of the beneficent Monkey God from above as He Who Likes To Par-tay Above And Here Below On This Earth did command me never to waste beer or the good kush and to always help a brother out who’s trying to hook it up with their fine persons of choice. Joshua: Hurk I’m not— [sighs in accepting and fond exasperation.] It’s not like that with me and Charles— Hurk: Ooooooooooooo, you’re on a first name basis already! I knew you had it in you! Get it man, get it good! I’m not into that, you know I like the ladies strictly, but I will support your endeavors no matter the sex of your fellow party-goer as leader of Hurk Gate and the Bro-iest of Bros. Joshua: Hurk oh my god, I’m not trying to sleep with or romance him. I’m—he’s not looking for that, at least not with me certainly, and I—...just, thanks. I still have most of the beer and weed leftover if you and Sharky are up for graffiting one of John’s billboard signs though. You in? Hurk: Hell yeah man, and oo, you did get some then, Josh you sly dog! Joshua: I DID NOT! [Meta-clarification: Joshua indeed did not, for reasons to be revealed at a later time in the main fic.]

Sharky, Hurk, and Joshua, if one bends the mechanics so they are all in the party together at the same time:

Sharky: Pfhahahahaha oh man did you see the look on those Peggies’s faces when we came just crashing down the mountainside in that burning car? It was priceless!

Joshua: What better way to set fire to mass amounts of Bliss fields than with a moving fireball? Sharky: I know man it was great! We didn’t get too singed or nothin’! We gotta try that burning trash-ball idea next time though, like building a snowman but with fire! A fireman! Ha! That was the easiest fifty bucks of my life, cuz. Joshua: Hold up a tick now, what. Hurk: Sharky man that’s against the betting code! You’re not supposed to tell! Joshua: Oh, you cheeky bastards were betting on if Sharky could convince me to drive the car down the hill, weren’t you. Hurk: Man it’s always a crap shoot with you, specially around cars. That’s what makes it fun, sometimes you get all “guys that’s not safe,” [said with a poor imitation of Joshua’s voice complete with a very terrible southern, Georgian-style accent before Hurk switches to his normal speaking voice to continue,] —and other times it’s just “hold my beer.” You’re not going to go all prim and proper on us now are ya? Joshua: I can’t believe you two. Gambling in Hope County, I’m shocked, shocked. Sharky you owe me half, I’ll buy you a beer first round. Sharky: Hell yeah man! Hurk: Wait a second did you two just con me? I’ve been robbed! Police! Joshua: Hurk I *am* the police, one of them present at least. Hurk: Oh shit son, you right. Help I’m being oppressed by the system!

Nick Rye

[This conversation happens after Seed Ranch has been taken, along with the AU detail of capturing John’s plane Affirmation at the same time, preferably early on, while John is still alive.] Nick: Hey Joshua I was talking to Sharky— Joshua: Oh no. Nick: And he had an idea that wasn’t half bad. Not a good one, and you’d be liable to get killed or captured, but I got stuck thinking on it and wanted to ask: What d’you think would happen if you dressed up like the Father and just pulled a whole Mission: Impossible face-a-roo switch? You can do that imitation of how he speaks and everything, I’ve heard you do it before. And with how high the Peggies are most of the time, they’re so far out of their gourds they wouldn’t notice the differences. Joshua: You mean aside from his brothers and sister noticing he’s suddenly an inch shorter, twenty years younger and the wrong brand of crazy? Nick: Just go off about there being an edit to God’s Plan or something, and you could get makeup or something going on with that age thing. People do all kinds of wizardry with foundation and stuff, though you’d have to ask someone else on that. Maybe Addie or someone she knows? I don’t know if they have aging-up tricks compared to aging-down though. It could work! Might be a quick way to end the fighting if we can just stuff Joseph into a car trunk and then stash him in a bunker somewhere while you’re pretending you’re him. Joshua: Nick my tattoos are different and I’m not going to convince people I’m Joseph if I have to do one of his shirtless walkarounds, NOR am I having sins and Bible verses carved into my hide to complete the look. I don’t think we have any special effects or make up artists in the county who specialize in convincingly fake scars made out of latex or something. Nick: I don’t know, that Guy Marvel might have someone. Or, had someone. He has to be able to afford all those special effects somehow. Joshua: I’m not going anywhere near that guy with a ten foot pole man, he weirds me out. Also consider: I’d have to talk to Jacob, John and Faith as Joseph. I don’t want that kind of responsibility of herding that conversation at the family dinner. Nick: Hoo, good point. So...how is that family bullshit coming along then? Joshua: I have no idea, I’m just winging it, like you are. Nick: [who’s currently flying a plane, thus the slight pun] Heh. Good luck with that then, and let me know if you want me to paint something special on John’s precious little Affirmation next time you take it out for a spin to spite him. Joshua: I’m sure I can think of a thing or two.

Adelaide

Adelaide: Honey you need to take a breather one of these days and just take a load off, if you keep up the way you’re going you’re going to end up looking more like your dad sooner rather than later. You should swing by the Marina sometime and have a yoga session with Xander, really helps get the blood pumping and limber you up if you know what I’m saying. Joshua: [Snorts in amusement.] Is Xander trying to convince you to eat more kale chips instead of potato chips again? Adelaide: Rook sweetie, I love Xander but there are some things a woman won’t put in her mouth, and kale chips are one of them. Joshua: I’ll swing by sometime to help out with the kale chips then, and maybe get in a yoga session at the same time. It’s been a while since I chatted Xander up what with the county going pearshaped. Adelaide: I’ll never understand how you two can eat those things. Ugh. Gives me the willies. Joshua: *I* eat them dipped in homemade spicy nacho cheese sauce. I have no idea how Xander eats them straight and still claims to have working tastebuds.

Grace

[For context: This conversation is based on the AU’s detail that Grace’s father has survived the previous attempt on his life prior to the start of the Reaping.]

Joshua: Did you crack open the extra care packages we dropped off yet Grace, or did your dad get to ‘em first? Grace: You referring to the chocolate bars you stashed in there? I got my share of them out in time. Joshua: Good, I was a little worried when you told me they were missing last time. Thought they might’ve been lifted without me knowing beforehand. Grace: He’s a sly one when sweets are up for grabs. Now if you can do something about the shortage of decent coffee… Joshua: What’s that? A reason to piss John off today and raid his personal stash? Say no more!

Jess

Jess: So. Joshua: So. Jess: Just like old times but with more fucked up cultist family bullshit than before, huh. Joshua: [Sighs.] Yeah. Jess: That’s rough, buddy. Joshua: Least I can steal shit en masse from the cultists and no one else minds right now. For the life of me though I can’t figure out where all of the snacks from Lorna’s went when the Peggies hit her place. I think they ate ‘em all. Jess: [Noise of disgust.] Those two-faced fuckers going on and on about how bad commercially produced food is and how everyone should get back to basics, but there they go snatching up all the frosted cakes and maple bars like it's baby’s first shoplifting spree. Joshua: I know right? Even if they do believe the end of the world’s coming, that’s still rude to clean the store out on the first go around—leave some snacks for the next bunch of looters, god damn.

In Combat

[Note: due to Joshua’s verse details, this comes with the assumption that were one to play in a version of his universe, the Deputy would have a kill/spare mechanic and thus also an option of doing a No Kill run and variations on that spectrum, which Joshua’s mechanics would support more so. This would likely also mean some additional options for the other guns-for-hire and creative use of their canonical loadouts and abilities. Joshua’s setup would overlap with Boomer and Jess’s via the Spotter and Concealment abilities, and he’d be equipped with a bliss dart gun and a scoped hunting rifle. Also melee options and such.] Seeing/tagging an enemy: “Hey look, another whack-a-mole.” / ”Fashionably challenged mountain-man zealot sighted.” / “Enemy sighted.” Seeing/tagging multiple enemies at once: “duck, duck, cultists.”/ “The Rapture called, they don’t want these Peggies back.” / “multiple hostiles in the area.” Bliss darting/knocking out a Peggie at range: “Nap time.” / “Another one bites the dust.” / “Down they go!” / “A little dirt nap never hurt any Peggie. Won’t hurt their outfits any either, a little dirt brown looks better than all of that mayonnaise-white so many of them wear anyway.” Knocking out a Peggie with a non-lethal stealth takedown: “Lights out.” / “Rang this one’s chimes hard enough he’ll think it’s time for morning service on a sunday when he wakes up.” / “Sleep tight.” / “She’s/he’s down.” Sneaking: “Feels like a tuesday.” / “...” / “Five bucks says I can pickpocket the guards and they’d never even know till later.” / “Moving position.” / “Good to go.” Upon witnessing the Deputy killing an enemy: “Was that really necessary?!” / “...shit.” / “Maybe we should disengage and drop back out of sight instead of this.” / “What the fuck!” Reviving an ally/The Deputy: “Don’t you go dying on me! Stay alive, you’ve got so much to live for!” / “Come on, let’s get you patched up, you’re gonna be okay!” / “No no no! Don’t you dare die! Not today!” Hurt: “MOTHERFUCKER!” / “Ow!” / “God damn it, I just patched this shirt! And myself!” / “This is NOT my fucking element, fuck!” / “Why are we even in a situation where we’d get shot at?!” Downed: “Could use a little help over here!” / “Bleeding out, help!” / “...mom?”

Driving

When asked to drive: “...you sure? I really think someone else driving would be a better idea under current circumstances, but okay. Just don’t go making a habit out of this. Please. For everyone’s sake.” / “No.” [This is followed by outright refusal to sit in the driver’s seat.] / [Optionally if Sharky and/or Hurk are around] “Ugh. Just...gotta pretend this is driving through a Clutch Nixon. With live gun fire, instead of just fire-fire.”

When the Deputy/someone else is driving recklessly: “Iwantoffthisride” / “I’m going to have to pick upholstery out from under my nails later.” / “JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL.” / [Recites a Hail Mary.] / “Having a good time! NOT.” / [If it’s Sharky or Hurk driving] “This is the kind of reckless driving I can get behind. Through regular past exposure therapy.” Changing radio stations: [If it’s being changed to Eden’s Gate stations] “Can we not? I’ve heard this music so many times it’s old as hell, however catchy.” / “They did do a good job on the music, I gotta say. More ominous meaning to the lyrics right now in particular though.” / [If it’s being changed to Resistance Radio stations] “Road trip time! Watch out for moose in the road.” / “Hell yeah, crank those tunes!” / “I’m glad we have regular music to listen to still, it’d be such a drag to have to go without it.”

Idle

- [General] “What’s up? Everything going alright with you?” - [General] “I heard of a good fishing spot where the rainbow trout [or other game fish depending on situation/mechanics] are really biting today if you want to take a breather and just do a bit of fishing.” [this dialogue only triggers if the Deputy hasn’t filled out the map yet for fishing spots, and adds one to the map with a notification.] - [General] “Hey, there’s a prepper stash over yonder, if you want to try your hand at getting at it. [This dialogue only triggers at random if the Deputy hasn’t polished off all the nearby Prepper stashes already. Marks a nearby prepper stash on the map and gives a notification.]

- [General] “You know what surprises me? That the Project didn’t try to shut off the power plant to at least portions of the county. Sure lots of people are preppers or woodsmen and such, but electricity makes everything easier for us. Weird, ain’t it? They have the technicians for it I’m sure. Guess we should thank our lucky stars they either didn’t think of that or decided it wasn’t worth it. We’d be straight out of ice cold beer then, Whitehorse would hate that.” - [If the Deputy is taking the no-kill route] “Hey I just want to say...I appreciate you trying not to kill people, even if some of these cultists are absolute motherfuckers who deserve it. We might be able to stop all their prophecy crap dead in its tracks if you keep this up. And...you know. Thanks for not killing my crazy relatives? I think. They’ve done a lot of bad shit and they need to answer for that, but...the right way, not backwoods murder. We’re better than that, I hope.” - [If the Deputy is taking the killing route] “I get wanting to kill the Seeds and the cult...but this isn’t going to end well, even after we’re done. I wish you wouldn’t, but I can’t stop you if this is the choice you’ve made. ...I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you. I...hope you’ll be alright, in the end. But I don’t think you will be.” [Recall that Joshua Knows What Will Happen To The Deputy if they take the canonically-based killing route. He leaves before the final confrontation, and curiously Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson don’t show up in the final scene either—ie, whichever route the Deputy chooses, they survive elsewhere (coughcough Joshua’s secret bunker cough.) The scene with Joseph still happens more or less the same, only the Deputy leaves alone if they choose Walk Away, and ends up alone with Joseph if they choose Resist. Also interestingly enough: Dutch isn’t present on the radio, nor in his bunker. His fish have been taken too. Joshua didn’t have the time to grab everyone, so he tried to grab the ones he knew for sure would die, and warned the others that he foresaw not surviving the Collapse or aftermath, like Mary May and Jess Black, or who suffered serious injuries like Grace. His buds Sharky and Hurk he bribes with beer and weed to hide out in their bunker or hang out in his while this goes down. Boomer, Cheeseburger, and Peaches are all herded to safety (yes there are mechanics for that in the standard AU verse, we shan’t delve into them here though bc spoilers tho.) The others he tries to warn, but whether he managed to get to them and some of the other latter people mentioned above in time or not is uncertain.] - [If the Deputy switched from a killing route to a no-kill route and all of the Seeds are still alive, Joshua sounds relieved] “Hey, I know it’s...it’s hard to hold off pulling the trigger when someone who’s hurt so many people is in your gunsights, but...I do think bringing them in for actual processing through the legal system—a proper trial without bullshit—is the better way. For all of us. Thank you.” - [If the Deputy switched from a no-kill route to a killing route, sounds slightly devastated] “...Why?” - [If the Deputy is doing a “neutral” run of killing significant numbers of cultists, but is sparing the Seeds as they go] “...I appreciate you not killing the murdery head-cult-family members, but…you think we could maybe lighten up on killing the rank and file? They don’t have the big names and they aren’t the leaders, but those are still people. They are responsible for their own actions, not saying they aren’t, but many of them are redeemable. Not all of them, but...maybe we can just lay them out in the infirmary for a good long while instead? Nothing permanent. The bad ones though can fall off a cliff.”

- [If the Deputy is doing a “selective killing” run of not killing rank and file cultists, but is in the process of killing all the Seed Heralds. Joshua sounds conflicted.] “I appreciate you not killing the followers, though some of them are definitely bastards who shouldn’t be allowed to walk free for the shit they’ve done, but...you think we could...maybe not kill the Seeds either? The Seeds are the primary responsible parties, not contesting that, but maybe we can just kick their asses and arrest them instead? It might help dampen the chaos somewhat, maybe we can use ‘em for leverage. We certainly could hide them somewhere secure that the Peggies wouldn’t be able to find ‘em. It’d be easier to talk Joseph down too, using his siblings as leverage.” [See above for killing route ending details.] Also? We’re driving in separate cars. Don’t turn on the radio, stay away from the others. You’re still brainwashed, and dangerous.” [Joshua is disappointed in the Deputy for not having stuck to some manner of universal moral principle.] - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route,] “Hey, you wanna play a game of checkers, or chess? Take five for a bit, if you got the time?” - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route,] “Hey, not to be mushy or anything, but...thank you. For being you. It’s inspiring to see someone’s able to take the higher path when everything’s falling to pieces all around us. Makes me have a little bit more faith in humanity, too.” - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route, and has been on said no-kill route for a decent amount of time,] “Hey, we grabbed some really good produce this time around and sent it on over to Casey. Told him I’d tell you to swing by, and asked him to save some for you in case you were interested. They’ve got some fresh beef for burgers and sandwiches, pumpkin pie, apple pie, loaded baked potatoes, and all kinds of other tasty stuff for a cookout. The Ryes are coming round to help pitch in and organize it all as a little morale boost party. Wanna come? You deserve to put up your feet and relax, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d appreciate your company if you felt like joining in. If you’d rather not, I can sneak food to you if you want quiet time to yourself. It’s all good, just tell me what you want and where you want it.”

Location Specific:

- Near where the police station was, if it’s been burned down: [Sighs.] “While I’m not missing the paperwork that got torched, there was a nice feel of history to the old place. Wish they hadn’t burned it down, fuckers. But, well...the Project and the Seeds have good reason to have no love for police and authority figures among others, even before all this horribleness and the leadup stuff came down. So I can’t say I’m surprised they did.”

- Upon entering the Spread Eagle, if friendly: “Finally, a place where everybody knows our names instead of yelling “Deputies!” at us all day! Wanna hit up the arcade? I’ll buy the first round if you get the higher score.”

- Seed Ranch, outside if it hasn’t been liberated, inside if it has been liberated: “Never going to understand why some folks want real airy houses with so much dead space as their main living quarters. Feels more like a knickknack museum you’re supposed to look at, not a home you’re supposed to live in. He’s got all this Eden’s Gate paraphernalia in those glass display cases, and I don’t doubt John’s fervent in his beliefs, but it feels more like a rich boy’s hunting and vacation lodge cobbled together with a vague idea of home. You saw the doghouse out back, right? What’s the point of having a dog live outside if you’ve got ALL this space, it’s all finished wood floors, and you’ve made sure to train ‘em and raise ‘em properly so they know not to chew on the furniture? It’s lonely, that’s what this is. Joseph chides John and all that about learning to love, but it’s a case of the blind leading the blind there.” - Outside St. Francis Veterans Center: [Before the Veterans Center is liberated, if Jacob has captured the Deputy at least once, so the song “Only You” is played around the Center, and the melody starts to be audible in the distance as the group approaches.] “Yeah hey, I’m going to go the other way now and wait for you over here where I can’t hear the song of madness, ‘kay? Maybe you should avoid it too.” [This is followed by Joshua refusing to go too close to the Center, sans possible AU story missions.] - Anywhere near Joseph’s Island: [The first time the party gets near Joseph’s Island,] “Uh. No. I’m not going near that place twice any sooner than we need to.” [Watch Joshua be willing to jump out even into deep water and swim away if the Deputy tries to approach the island with him in tow on a boat.]

OC Fighting Style

Tagged by @chyrstis !! Thank you for the tag!! :D <3 This was another fun one to fill out (and shorter than the above but you know what we’re stapling all of these bad boys into one post bc Why Not.) Have an aesthetic picture of a Jacob sheep skull upon a sheep skin for the fun implications of what that says about Joshua’s fighting style. xD Ram skull image after some searching was sourced from [here], with a creative commons license for free-to-reuse, with some limitations.

Rules: bold = often (or always), italics = sometimes, default = rarely, strike = never

fight honorably / fight dirty / prefer close-quarters / prefer range / chat during / go silent / low pain tolerance / high pain tolerance / attack in bursts / attack steadily / go for the kill / aim to disarm / fight defensively / bait an opponent’s first strike / strike first / provoked easily / provoke their opponent / tease / get visibly frustrated / shout while attacking / use strategy / focus on their battle / experience conflicting thoughts during battle / rush in recklessly / try to read their opponent before fighting / fight wildly / fight calmly, apathetically / fight with anger / fight with excitement / fight because they have to / fight because they want to / fight without regard to wounds / run away when wounded / hide wounds / take a blow to protect another / prefer a blade / prefer a gun (non lethal rounds/tranquilizer darts) / prefer a bow / prefer a shield / prefer a spear naginata / prefer a personalized weapon / prefer psychic abilities / prefer brawling / their greatest weakness is physical / their greatest weakness is mental / their greatest weakness is emotional / transform for battle / fight as they appear / rely on strength / rely on speed / use everything they have / hide their full potential / exhaust quickly / high stamina / doubt their strength / proceed with caution / behave arrogantly / brag after landing a hit / belittle their abilities / use psychological tactics / use brute strength / avoid civilians / strike down civilians / damage surroundings / avoid damaging surroundings / signature fighting style / making it up as they go / mastered skillset / learning their skillset / fancy footwork / sloppy footwork / messy fighter / elegant fighter / accept defeat / refuse defeat / beg for mercy / compliment their opponent / insult their opponent / use unnecessary movements / move efficiently / barely move / prefer to dodge / prefer to block / defend their blindside / has no blindside / use all available advantages / strictly use one main method / play around / hold back / fight ruthlessly / show mercy / wait for opponent to be ready / strike when opponent isn’t ready / fear death / fear pain / fear killing / has PTSD / avoid fighting / has lost a fight / has won a fight / has killed / refuses to kill / want to die standing / would succumb slowly

WIP Day

Tagged by @chyrstis and @hawkfurze !! Thank you for the tags!! :D <3

An excerpt from the current WIP chapter for ACABH: ————————— Weak. He was so weak, barely able to move right now, and he didn’t even know why. There was pain, a lot of pain, a feeling like his bones were on fire and about to crumble under pressure at any moment—but he’d been through worse. In this instance, he could recall that he’d fallen through the sky for a brief tumultuous time before gravity had stepped in, leading to him landing hard upon the road, as if making up for the lack of physics earlier. —————————

#FC 5 #Far Cry 5 #FC 5 AU #Far Cry 5 AU #WIP #WIP Wednesday #ask game #tag game #Deputy Joshua Rook #long post

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queensdivas · 5 years

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A Damned Soul Chapter 4 (A Vamp Gwil Fic)

I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD BITCHES! Yes I have a concussion but I gotta power through it because I love writing and missed writing this book. Also! 39 isn’t dead! I’m bringing it back bitches because I’ve missed writing Pat Murray so badly!

Here ya go ladies and gentlemen! If you’d like to request a certain bohrap or Queen dad let me know. If you would like to be tagged also let me know! Please enjoy because I’m back and more head issues than ever! WHOOP WHOOP!

Previous Chapter

Taglist:

@mexifangorl @i-live-for-queen @leah-halliwell92 @its-funny-til-its-not@bonafiderocketqueen @b-i-g-i-r-l-b-i @teathymewithben @mayofbrian@brianmydear @sprite-jh

The top was down as the warm summer night of warm July was wrapping itself around the car. It felt nice..and it being a very long time since I found myself in America. Not that I don’t mind the states at all, just enjoy a quick visit every once in a while for the kicks of it. Never imagined she would drag me over here..but somehow she managed to wound up over here.

Stopping at the red light as she began fumbling through the radio station till a familiar guitar riff was beginning to play. John Denver has swept the nation with his new song Country Roads, but Annie's song really hit it home for her that summer to turn out being the song that would play nonstop in the car.

A very loud Volkswagen van pulled up next to us, rolling down the window as all the smoke from the van came out. I’ve never been high in my life, but the amount of smoke that came from that van would’ve made anyone high. It was so damn strong that I think we got a context high from it.

“Hey brother. Do you know how to get to Shark Island? We heard that there’s some voodoo lady who can hit us up with more weed!” So how does Voodoo and weed connect? Now I’m curious on where to even find this voodoo. My entire life I’ve been dealing with witchcraft..but voodoo has been something interesting since it’s even older than most witchcraft.

“Yeah. Actually we’re on our way there to find her ourselves.” Robin told them as they nodded.

“Alright! Road trip!” They yelled as the light turned green for the van to start driving hard down the road.

“C’mon. I’m a witch and would enjoy learning about voodoo. If you don’t wanna go we don’t have to.” Shifting into the next gear then flooring the gas pedal. We caught up with the Volkswagen to keep up the same speed, the hippies were screaming at us through the window as Rolling Stones was blasting through their van.

“Let’s get there before the pot heads.” She encouraged as I let off the accelerator to change into the next gear. Pushing my foot all the way down on the peddle to zoom past the van. Robin cheered as she also turn up the radio.

“COME A LITTLE BIT CLOSER YOU'RE MY KIND OF MAN! SO BIG AND SO STRONG! COME A LITTLE BIT CLOSER! I’M ALL ALONE AND THE NIGHT IS SO LONG!” She sat up in the car to allow the wind to blow her hair all over the place and her body to be enticed by the music and wind.

Stopping the car on the roadway that was lit only by a long line of torches down to the large mansion. In the middle of swap island? Why exactly do I get myself thrown in these situations where we end up in the middle of somewhere like back in Transylvania.

“What do you think? Super spooky?” She giggled as we began going down the driveway slowly. Owls and cicadas were roaring all over the woods as we eventually stopped at the house. The large red doors opened as a very old women dressed in all blue came out of the doorway. She carried a gold cane that smacked onto the ground for the torches around us to become brighter.

“I presume you’re here for my services?” Her voice carried through the entire property as we climbed out of the car.

“You may come inside. Shoes off at the door.” It was like watching a ghost floating away, leaving a trail behind her. She grabbed my arm to guide me up the stairs as the humidity of the swamps fell on top of us like a wool blanket.

Before she started up the stairs to the house to wrap her arms around my neck as I put my hands on her waist. Placing those beautiful lips against mine as my hands gave her waist a little squeeze. Her beautiful brown skin was glowing by the vast amount of fire around us.

“Careful..or the voodoo that we do will tear our souls.” She giggled as she ran up the stairs to start taking off her sandals. Taking off my tennis shoes to see her already walking through the mansion, her fingers grazing over everything in the hallway. Her dark yellow skirt was flowing as we walked to the sitting room to which I was so damn enticed that I forgot to notice she stopped walking.

“My name is Wislande Janvier. You come seeking answers over a little situation you two are constantly in.” Pouring black pebbles into a tiny circle then a cluster of white feathers in the middle.

“Situation? What do you mean a situation?” Robin chuckled as the snap of her fingers the white feathers burned into a white smoke.

“She doesn’t know? Your story is as old as they come, though is slowly disappearing from the world.” Wislande began making the smoke dance in front of her as it danced its way over to Robin.

“Open your eyes.”

“How come you never changed her?” Hyacinth broke my train of thought from the living room. Fixing my jacket in the mirror as I took one last glance to make sure I looked somewhat decent. Each time I always try to look somewhat presentable even though over the years it's gone from tights...to suits..to now jeans. I very much prefer jeans instead of tights.

“Don’t think I haven’t tried in the beginning. Each time I even attempt to change her it would end up cause her body to immediately shut down. Like her body just flicks off whenever it hits her vessels. Tried it for the first few times, but it was just so much more painful.” Walking out into the living room to see Hyacinth was sitting on top of the couch licking himself. Oh god stop stop stop! He must’ve known what I was thinking because he looked up..smirked and continued to give himself a bath on my couch.

“Hyacinth. If you’re going to live in my home then..then we gotta lay some sort of guidelines.” Sighing as I stood above him. God just realizing how big he is sitting on the couch. Think they call him mainecoons or something but regardless of what cat he is! No bathing on my couch!

“But what about the rest of your homes? Because if I could have the house in Montreal or even the one in Aswan that would be quite exquisite. Wait how many places do you have now by this point? Eleven? Twelve? You wouldn’t happen to have one in Alaska or very far north Canada? Do tell so when we fix this sticky situation I can have a nice place to return.” Glad to know that my vast amount of properties across the world is more important than him showing some sort of house manners. Scoffing as I noticed an empty moving box was sitting right next to the table with the tape right on top of the table. Let me try this one more time before I pack his furry arse up.

“Just..no cleaning yourself up on my furniture..I have a bathroom and you’ve been around long enough to know that it's just weird to do that right in front of me or everyone in general. I imagine in your lifetime you’ve had a vast amount of owners who would let you do whatever you want in their house. But I’m different as you can see. Just no more bathing yourself on my furniture please.” His head came back up to stare directly at me. Raising his paw up to his mouth gradually with those eyes squinting at me. Oh I wish he would! OH I HOPE HE DOES! His tongue sliding against his fur as I nodded, getting up from the ground to nod at his actions.

“Fine. I’ll give you one of my places! Now..how would you like to be sent there?” Snatching him up by his stomach to keep a tight grip around him so he wouldn’t budge.

“Hey hey! Let me go you bloodsucker!!” Screaming as I tossed him into the box. Quickly closing the flaps to start taping up the box.

“You realize that I’m a cat! I love boxes!” He wasn’t moving or trying to jump out of the box. Shocking. Maybe when I’m done taping his arse up he'll start getting ancy. Don’t worry I don’t plan on sending him anywhere. He’ll just be going with me into town so he can start “fixing” my situation.

“If you were just a regular cat yes! But your human side can’t stand living in a box!” He went silent as I tossed the tape to the side of the room. A few seconds passed as he began scratching the box.

“Okay you had your fun! Let me out!” Time to go see her. Picking up the now heavy box since this guy is stupidly big for some reason. He began moving around to the box and it almost caused me to drop it.

“Okay okay! I promise I’ll stop the licking on the couch. Can’t exactly pop into the shower with you and diving into salt water won’t solve the problem! Now let me out!” He was so close to getting out till he screamed at me to let him out.

“If you’re so old and so wise..why on earth have your manners not developed.” Locking the cottage door to then begin walking towards the car. He was still screaming at me to let him out, but was being drowned up with my humming of some simple John Denver. Though American..he still has some very beautiful songs.

Throwing him into the passenger seat as I walked over to his side of the car to begin putting the top of the hood up. Yes the sun is going away, but it looks a little more cloudy than I like to have a top down. My playlist was already beginning to play as Hyacinth was hissing in the box.

“Please no John Denver!” Walking towards the other side of the car to put my side of the hood up.

“Why? Can’t stand good music?” He was quite till his eyes looked through the handle holes.

“I just don’t want to cry.” This is for cleaning yourself up on my couch. Turning the dial as he was beginning to meow obnoxiously in the box. Listen to it and wheat bitch! Climbing into the driver side of the car as John began singing through the radio.

“Screw you Gwil.” He was actually cry!? Glad to know that one thing he can do besides be a pest is to be an amusement by watching him sob to John Denver. Putting the car into reverse as I began turning us around, then beginning to drive down the dirt path to get on the main road.

“MEEOOOWWW!” Ignore him.

“MMMMMEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!” He’s being a little attention seeker. Just ignore him.

“MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW!” Nope. Not giving him the stupid satisfaction of annoying me and him getting out of the box.

“Fine. Two can play at this game bloodsucker!” HE coughed a little then stuck his head out in one of the handle holes.

“BUT THE COLORADO ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH! I’VE SEEN IT RAININ FIRE IN THE SKY! SHADOWS FROM THE STARLIGHT IS SOFTER THAN A LULLABYE!”

“DON’T YOU DARE INSULT THE MUSIC OF JOHN DONVER!” He wouldn’t! He wouldn’t dare insult the signing of John Denver!

“ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH!” Turning the car sharply to the side of the road then parking it on the side. Ripping open the box to see him with big stupid eyes looking like regret.

“Fine. You can have the house in Alberta Canada if you stop meowing like alittle twat AND NEVER INSULT THE MUSIC OF JOHN DENVER!” He smiled as he climbed out of the box, kicking it to the floor then getting comfy in the seat.

“Glad we can come to an agreement. What part in Alberta?”

“Right on the shore of Eva Lake. Absolutely gorgeous since no one travels that far north. So the air is very refreshing.” He purred as he sunk into the chair as I got back onto the main road.

Pulling up to the curb as I climbed out of the car with Hyancith falling slowly behind. He kept purring as we got closer and closer to the shop as my fingers began feeling a little numb from the fact of this happening again.

“Oh my god are you really nervous?” Snapping at me before I could open the door. Is it wrong to be nervous.

“Well I can’t help it ya know.”

“Open the stupid door you bafone.” He tried jumping on top of my shoulder but I dodged his jump for him to fall on his feet. Shaking his head as he sat back down on his butt.

“That was rude of you. I was going to hide in your jacket so she wouldn’t notice me.” For someone who calls himself wise..he sure is a dumbass. Like she wouldn’t notice a large bump in my clothing.

Walking into the store with him poking his head out from the back of my jacket. This was so stupid! The door closed behind us as a woman came out of the back with a wooden crate filled with some sort of jars.

“What can I help you with?” She began unpacking the crate as I approached her.

“Ummm..I would like to have a scrying done by..umm..Miss Robin La Torneau? I was planning on getting it done when you were in Highbridge but you two left before I could even give it a shot.” Nervously laughing as I felt Hyacinth shaking his head behind me cause his whiskers were tickling my cheek.

“She went to buy some fish for dinner, should be back in a few minutes or so. Knowing her she got distracted by some kind of animal or some sort of attraction a person has on the side of the street. Please sit at the table behind the curtain till she gets back.” Nodding as I walked through the curtain to sit down at the table. Hyacinth climbed out of my jacket to walk all over the table trying not to knock over anything.

The room was egg white that had painted leafs and branches all over the walls and even the ceilings. The only light source in the room was a light that had vines with little lights acting as leafs. It felt so magical oh my god.

An old blue wardrobe had a bunch of herbs, a collection of different colored candles, a bunch of small knives, some kind of mixing bowl, and other witchy things were in the wardrobe. I’ve never seen her shop before so decked out in so many different spices, and everything else.

“Has she always been this witchy? I swear this place looks like something you would see on Pinterest. But an actual witch place. Do you know if she has skulls in a secret closest or even lambs in the back for sacrifices?” What a furry ass hole!

“A dog? Since when are you into dogs?” Shit! Hyancith looking at the curtain for his fur to start rising. Shit shit! Yanking him from the table to shove him back underneath my jacket.

“Let me out! I’m going to kill that dog!” He was muffling from my jacket till I zipped it up then smacking the back of it.

“Don’t say a word otherwise we’re screwed!” Yelling through my teeth as she was moving stuff around in the other room. He was still moving around in the back of my jacket till I leaned back into the chair for him to stop moving. Looking like a fucking hump on my back as she came into the room.

Her beautiful wild curly hair, her beautiful golden skin was shining with the dimmed lighting in the room. Those beautiful grass green eyes lost in her looking at me..and this dumbass cat on my back.

She wore a long high waisted red skirt with a black dress shirt that had a little bow tie around the collar. Small black heels were on her feet as she was tapping her foot. Every time we come into contact she gets all nervous and her foot always starts tapping.

“Good evening sir..ummm. May I ask what kind of reading were you wanting today?” She looked so beautiful so nervous in front of me.

“No real preference.” Come to think of it..would it be a good idea for her to read my future or anything? Would that cause another sort of body shut down?

“Figured I’d try something a little different and do some capnomancy..sound okay?” Nodding to her as my thumb as began moving in small circles. She was beginning to gather things from the wardrobe.

“So I heard that you came all the way from Highbridge to see little old me.” Little old you?

“Ummm yes.”

“You’re totally blowing it!” Smacking my back as she spun around to see what happened. Acting natural as if it was her imagination doing the voices. Stupid cat! Causing so many stupid troubles in my life!

#Gwilym #gwilym lee x oc #gwilym lee #bohrap boys #bohrap #joe mazzello #joe mazzello is a cat #cat joe #gwil #gwilym lee x reader #bohrap fan fic #rami malek #Lucy Boynton #ben hardy #vampire #vampire gwil #Gwil Vamp

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lilulo-12fanfiction · 5 years

Text

Wonder of You

Letting Go- Chapter 5

So this one is a long one. Thank you as always for your likes, re-blogs and comments. I LOVE FEEDBACK!!!!!!

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in this story, or anything else I have.

Tag List:

@magssteenkamp @fandom-princess-forevermore @deans-baby-momma

Blake couldn’t sleep. Well she didn’t want to sleep. Every single time she closed her eyes, she watched Dean get electrocuted again and again. Granted he was okay now, he had been healed, but the prospect of loosing him had been too close for comfort. Or she saw herself and Sam locked in cages waiting to be slaughtered. So instead of sleeping herself, she watched him and Sam sleep. It was a gift to watch their chests rise and fall. The idea of living in a world without Dean or Sam Winchester in it was more than she could handle.

The whole ordeal had taken a lot out of Dean emotionally. Someone had died so that he could live. Even though he didn’t make the choice, it was eating at him. And the idea that he wanted to sacrifice his life so someone neither of them knew could live made Blake’s breath stop. He couldn’t leave her, regardless of how guilty he felt. She had knocked the wind out of Sam when she hugged him gratefully for stopping the ritual and saving Dean. He knew that no matter what Blake had told him, she wasn’t over his brother. The fear and relief he had witnessed in those few days proved it. She just wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. She also knew her and Sam vanishing had rattled his cage quite a bit. Blake turned her head to look at Sam. Her sweet Sammy. What was happening to him? Psychic visions, telekinesis? The Demon that had killed Mary had done the same thing to Max’s mother. What if Sam lost control? The idea of him hurting himself or someone he loved made her queasy. She looked at her phone willing John to call, but he didn’t. She knew he wouldn’t. She was so angry with him she could scream. She hugged her knees to her chest and shivered. The cold Chicago air nipped through the cheap motel.

Sam and Blake had barely made it away with their lives. She shuddered at the idea of being locked in that cage. The way the brothers were a little to handsy, leering at here. The one had mentioned keeping her for himself. The back of his hand running down her cheek. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Dean hadn’t found them.

“Do you ever sleep anymore?” She heard Dean’s gruff voice.

“Too wired to sleep.” Her chin rested on the top of her knees.

“You look exhausted. You shouldn’t have taken the couch. I would have.“

“I wouldn’t have slept in the bed either Dee.” Dean sat up.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” It was funny how sometime the nickname made her cringe and other times it warmed her heart. She considered her answer for a moment and realized that he would see through her BS if she lied.

“You mean other than being locked up and almost hunted like an animal? I’m terrified to close my eyes. I see you or Sam dead...or worse.” Dean took notice of how her voice shook. He stood up and made his way to the couch and sat down next to her.

“Tell me about the worse. You promised me you’d tell me about those nightmares, maybe you thought I forgot.” She sighed. Dean sat wide eyed as she went through the gamete of visions. Her mother’s corpse speaking to her. The terror, the running. John and Mary.

“They want me to know something. But they won’t tell me what it is.” Her voice broke. “I am convinced your father knows something. I think my mother made him appear to me to give me a hint. He won’t call me back. I’ve called and I’ve called.”

“I know. Have you ever done research into your mother? Maybe there is something there.”

“I’ve always been too scared to. There’s something on the edge of my memory that I can’t quite reach. I think it would explain things. No matter what I do, it’s like the memory is locked.”

“Well, we figure out what is up with this Demon and Sammy and then we’ll figure this out too.”

“How Dean?”

“Together. We’ll figure it out together.” He pulled her over to him, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re freezing. C’mon, let’s go lay down. Same deal as when we were hunting the scarecrow. Even a flicker of a nightmare and I’ll wake you up.” You nodded and followed him to the bed. She knew she would have a dreamless sleep. She always did when she was with him.

Blake was fidgeting as Dean and Sam we’re chatting trying to figure out what their latest Monster was. She was overtired, stressed out and irritated with Dean’s constant flirting with anything that had breasts.

“So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number.” Blake clenched her jaw as Dean smirked. She was waiting for Sam’s smart ass response when he got up from the table and was walking away from them. Dean looked confused and alarmed. They watched as Sam approached a blonde woman at another table. Sam put his hand on her shoulder. Her face lit up in recognition. Blake and Dean stood to see who this girl hugging Sam was.

“I thought you were going to California? Sam was questioning her. Blake wasn’t crazy about how she was looking at Sam. Something about her was off.

“Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar.” Blake rolled her eyes when Sam had no idea who she was talking about. “Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while.” Dean was trying to get their attention but was being ignored so Blake interjected herself into the conversation.

“You’re from Chicago?” Blake Feigned interest.

“No, Massachusetts—Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?” She was gushing and trying way too hard.

“Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again.” “Well, I'm glad you were wrong.” Blake wanted to puke. This girl was laying it on thick and was super fake. Sam finally acknowledged her and Dean.

“Meg, this is, uh—this is my brother, Dean and our best friend Blake.” Meg didn’t try to mask her surprise.

“This is Dean?” Meg completely ignored Blake. Dean gave Meg his Winchester grin.

“So, you've heard of me?”

“Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage. Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth.”

“Um excuse you bitch. Don’t talk to him like that. You don’t even know him.” Blake pushes her way infront of Dean. Sam jumped in before it escalated any further.

“Blake stop. Meg, it's all right.” Blake didn’t know if she wanted to punch Sam or Meg more.

Dean let out a low whistle before speaking. “Okay, awkward. We’re gonna get a drink now. C’mon sweetheart.” Dean took Blake’s hand and led her towards the bar. Dean was making eyes at Blake once they got away from Sam and Meg and Blake was ignoring him. “You’re pretty sexy when you play white knight to my damsel.” When she turned and looked at him, her expression told him he shouldn’t have said that.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me? I’m sure you said something similar to our bartender and your friend at the Police Station.” Her arms were crossed in-front of her further showcasing her irritation. “Screw this. I’m heading back to the motel. Enjoy your drinks.” Before Dean could stop her she was headed out the door and across the street to their motel.

A little while later Sam and Dean we’re heading out to the Impala. “So Bee is going to be in a mood when we get back.” Sam hated when Blake was mad. She did an excellent job of punishing them when they crossed her.

“Yeah she’s pissed at both of us. But this Meg. Who the hell was she?” Sam shrugged at Dean.

“I don't really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird.”

“And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?” Dean was pissed too. He’d never laid eyes on her before. Sam sighed.

“Look, I'm sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—“

“Well, is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?”

“No, of course not. Now, would you listen? I think that there's something strange going on here, like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead. I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?” Dean wasn’t so sure.

“I don't know, random coincidence. It happens.” Dean shrugged off Sam’s suspicions.

“Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on.” Dean gave Sam another smirk.

“Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her. Maybe you're thinking a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?” Sam groaned.

“Do me a favor. Go talk to Blake and make sure she’s okay. She’s been on edge for a few weeks. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor. I'm gonna watch Meg.” Sam rolled his eyes as Dean started laughing. I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry.”

“All right, you little pervert. You just want to avoid Blake until I calm her down.” Sam gave Dean a dirty look, getting irritated look. “I’m going... I'm going.” Dean gave Sam one last grin and headed across the street to their Motel.

Dean was sitting at the computer researching Meg waiting for Blake to come out of the bathroom. She had been taking a bath when he got back. Not that she had responded to him when he called her name, but he could smell her bubble bath as the scent seeped under the bathroom door. She had been moody for days. He knew it was from the lack of sleep and stress, but it was still unsettling none the less. She never got jealous. He flirted with women in front of her all of the time. He would be lying if he didn't admit to himself that it thrilled him that she got jealous over him. Sam had made it clear that Blake had moved on, but he never would. She would always own a part of him, no matter where life took them. He looked up when he heard the bathroom door open and his mouth went dry. Her curly hair was pulled back into what was her signature messy bun and she was clad in what seemed to be the shortest charcoal pajama shorts he had ever seen her in and a matching cropped tank top. If she was trying to punish him to prove a point, it was working. When she ignored him and went to her bag, Dean picked up his cell phone to call Sam to distract himself.

Blake smirked internally at the expression on Dean's face. She knew what she was doing to him, and he deserved it. She pretended to not pay any attention to him, she knew it was childish, but she couldn't help herself. She looked over when she heard his voice and knew he was talking to Sam.

"Let me guess. You're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" She wished she could hear Sam's end of the conversation "You've got a funny way of showin' your affection... Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phone book. I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?" Blake rolled her eyes at Dean's teasing. "Yeah, that I did have some luck with. The symbol, It's, uh—turns out it's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva. It translates to "demon of darkness". Zoroastrian demons, and they're savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes—kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls." Dean paused while Sam responded. "Give me some credit, man. You don't have a corner on paper chasing around here... No, I called Dad's friend, Caleb. He told me, all right?" Dean had a look of defeat on his face. Truth be told, he was just as smart as Sam, he just hid it from everyone. Dean continued his conversation with Sam. "Anyway, here's the thing—these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured. And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos." Blake turned to focus on what Dean was saying. As much as she wanted to play the game with him, this was too important to not really listen. "Well, nobody knows what they look like, nobody's seen ‘em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town. Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?" Blake snickered. One of Dean's favorite forms of entertainment was torturing Sam. "No, bite her. Don't leave teeth marks, though—Sam? Are you—?" Dean pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at it, Sam had clearly hung up on him.

"I mean, I'm surprised he didn't hang up on you sooner." Blake kept her voice even. Her heart was racing and her hands felt sweaty. Dean hadn't made her nervous in a long time, but the look in his eyes made the butterflies in her stomach come alive. His green eyes narrowed on her, lips slightly pursed. All she wanted to do was grab his face and kiss him, to make him forget about the bartender and any other girl he had ever encountered.

"So she speaks. Still mad at me sweetheart?" He watched as her nostrils flared slightly and then she turned away from him. He stood when she didn't respond and she felt his presence behind her and then his breath on her neck. "I asked you a question you know." He watched as goosebumps erupted down her neck and shoulder. It made him proud to know that he could still affect her like that.

"I heard you Dean." Her voice was low and breathy. She felt his hands on her hips. She didn't think that he could stand any closer to her. He was so close he had to be able to feel her heart pounding. She felt the stubble on his chin scratch against her shoulder. She didn't understand how her mouth could go dry and water at the exact same time.

"It's rude to ignore people. Does it still make you jealous? Me flirting with other girls?" "Think about how you would feel if you saw me fawning over a cute detective or getting the number of a bar tender? Going home with him. Letting him touch me."

"I would hate it. It would drive me insane.” He admitted. She felt his nose against her ear. This shouldn't be happening, they shouldn't be this close, but she didn't have it in her to push him away or tell him no. She groaned when she felt his teeth graze her earlobe. "It drives me crazy even thinking about it." She held her breath as he kissed down her neck and shoulder. She felt his hand slide around to her stomach and he pulled her tighter. She was wrong, he could get closer to her.

"Dean..." Her voice came out in a whine. Her mind was trying to protest. There was too much at stake for the two of them to get distracted.

"Do you ever think about that night?" She swallowed but didn't answer. "I know you know what I'm talking about. That night at the beach, before everything went to hell. I think it about it all the time. You and me, your skin against mine. I've never not thought about it. It was the best night of my life. You know I'd always choose you, over anyone else. It's always you." Her heart overran her brain and she turned herself to face him. Their eyes locked and his lips were crashing into hers. Years of need and want coming out in the kiss. She felt his hands roaming her body as she ran hers up the back of his neck into his hair. She loved him. She had always loved him. She always would. It was always Dean. She peeled his button down off his torso, running her hands down his arms and underneath his shirt. He was pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth and then plunging his tongue back into her mouth. She felt his hand slide up and he grazed her nipple with his thumb over her top. His other arm circled her waist and his hand spreading across the small of her back. Kissing him was like something inside of her was coming up for air. She became alive. Where this was going, they would never know because Sam burst into the room at they jumped apart. Blake rushed into the bathroom shutting the door behind her and leaned against it.

There was no way Sam didn't know what was going on when he walked in. What the hell was she doing? It was a bad idea, she knew it was a bad idea. But it was Dean. Bad idea or not, her want for him out rode any common sense she had. She heard Sam talking when she opened the door after she had composed herself.

"Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing. She was talking into that bowl, The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone." Sam's and Blake's eyes met and she felt the heat creep up her face.

"Who was she communicating with? The Daeva?" She asked, cringing as her voice cracked.

"No, like Dean said, those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's coming to that warehouse." Sam and Blake watched Dean as the wheels in his head were clearly turning. He sat down at the table looking through some files.

"Holy crap." Blake and Sam gave Dean a questioning look and he continued.

"What I was gonna tell you earlier—I pulled a favor with my – my – friend, Amy, over at the police department.." He barely made eye contact with Blake as she crossed her arms in front of her. "The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time. The first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. He was born in Lawrence, Kansas. Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from? Lawrence, Kansas." Blake visibily went pale and Sam sat down next to Dean at the table with a look of disbelief.

"Holy Crap. I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?" Blake stood quietly as the two brothers were reeling.

"I think it's a definite possibility."

"What I don't understand is what's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?" The boys looked over at Blake as she posed the question.

Dean shrugged at her. "Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation." Sam shook his head at Dean. "No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her. "

"Sam's right. We need to know who is giving this Meg chick the orders to do this. There's a chance we wont get her to tell us if we interrogate her. It's a wasted opportunity." Dean hummed in agreement.

"I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone." Blake watched as Dean pulled out his cell, undoubtedly to call John as she and Sam went out to the car to get together some weapons.

"So...sorry for interrupting earlier." Sam finally said after a few moments of them silently loading up the bag.

"Stop. I'm not doing this right now."

"Bee...it's okay. I'm not going to make fun of you. I just wish you guys would give in and be together." Blake stopped and looked at him, studying the sincerity on Sam's face.

"Sam...I just...I can't...I don't know. I think instead of resolving anything things are just more complicated and fucked up. But right now we have to focus on this." Sam nodded, he took her hand and squeezed it and then went back to loading up the back. As they entered the room again, they caught the tail end of Dean's voicemail to John.

"We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse—it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." Dean hung up and looked over at Sam and Blake carrying two full bags. "Jesus, what'd you get?" Both Blake and Sam grinned.

"We ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything" Dean nodded and the three of them began loading their guns. After a while, Dean finally spoke."Big night."

Sam looked over at Dean. "Yeah. You nervous?"

"No. Why, are you?" Sam smiled at Dean.

"No. No way. God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

"We probably shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. You know, counting chickens and what not." Blake looked at both of the brothers and Sam shrugged.

"I'm just saying, what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again. " Both Dean and Blake's eyebrows shot up, but Dean was the first to respond.

"You- You wanna go back to school?"

"Well Yeah, once we're done hunting the thing. Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" Blake was praying this didn't end up in an argument. Dean took a deep breath to try and quell whatever he was feeling.

"No. No, it's, uh, great. Good for you. Sam."

Sam considered Dean for a moment before speaking. "I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?"

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be something to hunt."

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself—" Dean interrupted Sam before he finished.

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam."

"Dude, what's your problem?" Blake held her breath as Dean was silent for a few moments thinking before he responded. She wanted to punch Sam. How did he not get it?

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

"‘Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man." Blake stopped loading the back, incredibly interested in Dean's explanation. "You, Blake, me and Dad—I mean, I want us….I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again. " Blake felt her eyes fill with tears. She didn’t realize until they very moment that she wanted that too. She missed the way things were before too. All day, almost every day with Dean and Sam. Seeing John regularly.

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before." The look on Dean's face broke Blake's heart. Sam continued. "I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way." Sam grabbed his stuff and headed out of the door to the Impala. Blake stood there for a moment and Dean turned to her.

"Are you going to leave me too when this is done?" The intensity in his eyes took her breath away. She crossed over to him and threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly to her.

"I'm never leaving you again. I promise you. Whether Sam stays or goes, whether your father stays with us or goes out on his own. It'll be you and me, always. I told you when you came to a California that the life Sam wants, it’s not for me. It didn’t stick. This is what I want ."

"Pinky Promise?" She heard him say into her shoulder. She closed her eyes for a moment and kissed his cheek.

"Always Dee.”

Blake, Sam and Dean climbed the elevator gate and reached the top room of the warehouse to see Meg at the altar speaking the ancient language Sam bears when he was there before. The 3 of them quietly squeezed their way through the small space near the grate. Blake was shocked when she heard Meg’s voice.

“Guys...hiding is a bit childish don’t you think? Why don’t you come out?” Blake’s adrenaline was pumping. Something about this was very very wrong. “Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, tell me about it” Dean was looking around.

“So, where's your little Daeva friend?” Meg smirked.

“Around. You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good.” Dean didn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. The shotgun's not for the demon.” Blake was about to say something but Sam beat her to it.

“So, who is it, Meg? Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?” Blake’s eyes went wide when she saw the shadows forming on the walls.

“You, of course.” Meg grinned. The shadow demon knocked Sam to the ground and threw Dean and Blake into a pile of crates. Blake felt her neck snap back and the corner of a crate knocked her unconscious.

When Blake came to, she and the boys were tied to separate posts. Sam and Dean were next to each other while there was a decent distance between the two of them and her. She felt bile rising in her throat as her head pounded. She vaguely heard Sam and Dean as she concentrated on not emptying her stomach.

“This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearing what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it? And that the victims were from Lawrence?”

Meg laughed and shrugged. “It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all.”

Blake furrowed her eyebrows. “You killed those two people for nothing?!” Meg laughed at her.

“Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less.” Blake shivered, her head still pounding. When Meg’s attention turned to Dean, Blake started working on getting the rope around her wrist cuts with the small knife up her Sleeve. Dean smiled at Meg. “You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time. But why don't you kill us already?” Meg scoffed.

“Not very quick on the uptake, are we? This trap isn't for you.”

Sam’s face lit up with recognition. “Dad. It's a trap for Dad.”

Dean laughed at Meg again. “Oh, sweetheart—you're dumber than you look. 'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good.”

“He is pretty good. I'll give you that.” Meg walked over to Dean and straddled his legs. Blake worked harder ready to rip her face off. “But you see, he has one weakness. You. He lets his guard down around his boys and pseudo daughter, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow and messy.” Blake knew Meg was right. Trap or not, John Winchester would come.

“Well, I've got news for ya. It's gonna take a lot more than some….shadow to kill him.” Dean had so much faith in his father.

“Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see.” Blake was almost free when Sam started talking.

“Why you doin' this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?”

“I'm doing this for the Same reasons you do what you do—loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy—and Jess.” Sam told her to go to Hell. “Baby, I'm already there. Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty. I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me—changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it? I didn't mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun.” Blake was certain she was going to vomit when Meg started kissing Sam’s neck. She stopped when she heard Dean messing with the knife and ropes behind him. “Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?” Sam smiled at her.

“No. No. That's because I have a knife of my own.” Sam broke free at the same time Blake did. He head butted her as Blake ran for the Altar and flipped it over and watched as the Shadow Demon appeared and went after Meg. The last thing Blake remembered seeing was Meg go over the ledge before the searing pain in her head caused everything to go black.

Blake remained unconscious when the Shadow Demon attacked the three of them and John. Luckily it hadn’t laid hands on her. Dean looked in the rear view mirror of the car and watched her for a moment. He had laid her in the back. He knew she was going to be furious when she woke up and found out John had been there and left before she woke up and had a chance to talk to him. Dean knew she had questions of her own.

John had sat down on the bed next to Blake and brushed the hair off of her forehead with a distant smile. Regardless of what had happened he missed her and much as Blake missed him. He had protected her from the Demon and thrown her over his shoulder to get her out of that hotel room. John hesitated leaving and stared at her for a moment. He kissed her forehead and told Dean to tell her he was sorry and that he would see her soon.

“Should we have taken her to the hospital?” Sam looked back at Blake with worried eyes.

“Maybe? I don’t know. She would be even more pissed than she’s already going to be.”

“I still think he should have stayed with us.” Dean was exhausted and he couldn’t have this argument with Sam again so he focused on the road. “Dean- what’s...what’s going on with the two of you?” Dean looked over at Sam.

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Do you want to be with her?” Dean looked at Blake in the rear view mirror again.

“If that’s what she wants. I think she’s scared.” Sam nodded.

“I know she is. Dean, just be careful okay?”

“What? You really think I’d hurt her?”

“God no- the opposite. I think if anyone hurt anyone, she’d hurt you. Not intentionally. She’s like a baby deer, spooks easily.” Dean looked over at Sam.

“I’ll give her anything she wants. She wants me? I’m hers. She wants someone else and I’ll walk her down the aisle.” Sam looked over at the serious look on Dean’s face.

“Trust me. She marries anyone it’ll be you. I don’t know that she will ever trust anyone else the way she does you.” Sam saw a ghost of a smile on Dean’s face as he looked at you again. “Just give her time to realize she wants it.”

It had been weeks since John disappeared again and Blake was still raging. Dean admitted that Sam had wanted John to stay. Dean didn’t want Sam to be punished for the decision Dean and John made. It had been weeks and Blake was still ragingly angry. She had left John a few voicemails with some choice words. For Dean, she had no words. Dean wasn’t surprised she wasn’t talking to him. He knew she thought John had answers about her mother, but it wasn’t the time. With their closing in on the yellow eyed demon, the focus had to be there. Whatever was on deck for Blake would have to wait.l, so Dean let her punish him with silence and glares.

He knew she was pissed when the motels that didn’t have a couch had her sharing a bed with Sam, which meant she slept even less than usual. A sleep deprived pissed off Blake was treacherous and it seemed everything Dean did pissed her off. He wished she would get over it, but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. It seemed like any time the two of them got close to being something...John or Sam somehow ended up muddying the waters. Blake became increasingly obsessed with finding as much info about her mother and her past as she could. She refused to work the cases that John pointed them to. She sat out the last 3, doing her own thing in each town. She didn’t tell Sam what she was doing or what she was looking for. As far as Sam knew, she was rebelling against Dean and John.

Sam was sure Blake had never been this quiet in her life. Blake was a talker who couldn’t stand long stretches of silence. She spent most of her time glued to her laptop or earbuds in her ears while in the car. The tension in the car rides was getting to Sam. Plus they could have really used her help during this case in Poughkeepsie. She would have figured it out a lot quicker than he and Dean had.

So Sam was going to stay behind with Sarah for a bit. He and Dean decided it was time to take a breather until they knew what their next steps from John were. Blake and Dean would be on the move and Sam would join them later. He was hoping the time alone would allow them to figure their crap out. He wanted to be just that Blake was keeping something from him, but he knew her. She kept things close to the vest until she had all of the information. Dean was the keeper of most of her secrets. But Sam had a few of hers too. The relationship between Blake and Dean was special. Sam has finally come to realize that he didn’t need to be jealous. She was his best friend, but she was hopelessly in love with his brother. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

Blake approached Sam with the biggest smile he’d seen on her face in weeks and it was genuine. He knew it was because she was happy that he was ready to move on from Jess. It amazed him that no matter how messed up she felt on the inside, she always tabled it when she had a reason to be happy for someone else. Her empathy was moving. She threw her arms around his neck to hug him and squealed when he lifted her off the ground.

“I’m proud of you Sammy. Jess would be too. She wouldn’t want you holding on to her. She’d want you to be happy. You deserve a little happiness. But if shit gets weird, you call me and I’ll rescue you.” He laughed, deep down in his belly

“My hero.” She kissed his cheek after he set her down. “You going to be okay?” He looked over at the Impala and Dean. She nodded her head. “Look- I know there’s something you’re not telling me. And it’s okay. I know it’s something he knows and it has to do with my Dad. Just- maybe forgive him okay? Or at least try for me. He was terrified that night that something was going to happen to my Dad. And then you and the blow to the head...he knew you were going to be angry and trust me, he struggled. But he did what he thought would keep everyone the safest. And you not talking to him? It’s killing him. Please, while In gone, figure it out. We need you in cases. You’re too smart. And when you’re ready, you can tell me about it.” He saw tears in her eyes. She was tough as nails but had absolutely no poker face when it came to her emotions.

“I love you Sammy. Oh! I put condoms in your bag. Don’t be silly, cover your willy.” She pointed at him and doubled over laughing when his face got bright red.

“I hate you.” He mumbles and walked her over to the car and opened her door for her. “Oh, and Bee, I took your ear buds.” He slammed the door before she could react. And hit the top of the Impala to signal that Dean could take off. She crossed her arms in front of her and sunk down in her seat. Dean looked over at her. Angry or not, she looked adorable when she pouted.

Blake hadn't said two words since they had gotten in the car. It had taken Dean a while to decide where they were going to go and then it was like a light bulb went off in his head. He was desperate to make things with Blake right, so he headed towards Maryland. Blake loved the coast. She loved the salty ocean air. She always clarified that she hated dirty muddy lakes, but the ocean made her come alive. Dean knew it was nostalgic. Her beginning years she had lived in Virginia near the coast. He had seen her face a few times when the ocean air blew through her hair, he rarely saw her at peace like that.

He looked over at her, his eyes raked over her bare legs in her denim shorts and tank top. She might be pissed at him, but it didn't stop her from stealing one of his button downs. He couldn't stop himself, he reached over and took her hand and held it tight when she tried to yank it away. He kept his eyes on the road as her eyes burned with fury as she stared at him. She pulled her right knee up to her chest and rested her chin on it. He felt her hand relax and then she laced her fingers within his. He felt the first tiny crack in her icy exterior. Dean smiled to himself. By the time Sam was back, he was convinced they'd be back to normal. He saw the second crack form when the recognition of where they were headed hit her. She knew Dean was taking her somewhere along the East Coast. He felt her squeeze his hand in anticipation. She still hadn't said anything, but the squeeze of his hand was all he needed. He looked at the gas gauge and decided to pull off into the Gas and Sip that was coming up on the right. After he had set the gas up to pump he came around the car as Blake was getting out. After she shut her door she turned around to head into the store but Dean had her caged in by both hands on each side of her on the Impala.

"I'm not letting you go until we talk. Actually talk, no yelling or swearing at me." He saw the stubbornness flash in her eyes. He knew at that moment is more about her standing her ground than actually still being mad at him. "I'm not kidding. We'll stay right here. Sammy can come meet us at this gas station when he's done with whatever it is he's doing. When Blake tried to look away he hooked his right hand under her chin and turned her face back to him. "I said I was sorry. I know you're pissed. I know he wont call you back. I'm sorry. I was too afraid that being with us was going to get him killed. I was even more afraid that him being with us would get YOU killed. You were unconscious for hours. You missed a demon attack. If you hadn't woken up when you did, you would have woken up in a hospital. I was terrified. And what if he was with us and the Yellow Eyed Demon showed and you couldn't defend yourself? It's after my father now. You being anywhere near him isn't safe." Blake swallowed the lump in her throat. The truth was, she wasn't angry with Dean, not anymore. She was just angry and she was childishly taking it out on him because she didn't have any place else to direct it. She felt the pad of his thumb swipe an errand tear off of her cheek.

"You're right." She finally relented.

"I'm sorry...one more time for those in the back row?" She glared at him and he gave her his winning Winchester grin.

"I'm just so angry Dean. I feel like it's going to bubble over the top. I feel like if I don't direct it at something it's going to consume me. I was mad at you when I found out, and it was easier to just stay mad at you than to try and navigate this. I'm sorry for abandoning you and Sam on the last few cases. I just...I...I don't know what to do with myself. I keep feeling the edges of memories pushing to break through the seams, but they just can't shake loose. I know your father knows something...I know he's keeping something from me. And I should know what it is. I wasn't a baby when they died...when they killed her. I was 12. I should remember better."

"I promise you...we will figure this out. I just, I can only deal with one crisis at a time. This thing that killed my mom and Jess...we're closest to that. Let's see it through and then I swear to you that I will do whatever I can to help you put the pieces together. I'll hunt my father down myself, regardless of what he wants I will make him give you answers. Just hang in there with me for a little bit longer sweetheart, okay?" Blake nodded. Dean pressed his lips to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her for a moment with his chin on the top of her head. "Alright, go in, grab us some snacks. And if you promise not to come out with any of the crap you buy Sam I'll let you choose the music until we get to Ocean City." Blake beamed at him with a knowing smile. He watched her walk into the store, his shirt flowing behind her, ready to enjoy a few relaxing and tension free days with her.

#supernatura #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural fanfic #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn imagines #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x ofc #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x ofc #dean winchester #castiel #John Winchester #John Winchester x OFC

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locke-writes · 5 years

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A View of The Unknown

Or rather here is a movie recommendation list made up primarily of underrated, unknown (or oft forgotten), and cult classic films as of: July 28, 2019.

Tagging: @panro-musiclover

1890′s

Boxing Cats (1894)

Boxing Kangaroo (1895)

The Sprinkler Sprinkled (1895)

A Hallucinated Alchemist (1897)

1900 - 1939

Going to Bed Under Difficulties (1900)

Fire! (1901)

The Man With the Rubber Head (1901)

Rip Van Winkle (1903)

The Infernal Cauldron (1903)

Antony & Cleopatra (1908)

Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde (1908)

The Cowboy Millionaire (1909)

Baseball & Bloomers (1911)

The Inferno (1911)

Robin Hood (1912)

At Midnight (1913)

Atlantis (1913)

The House of Darkness (1913)

The Wishing Rings (1914)

The Crazy Clock Maker (1915)

The Prisoner of Zenda (1915)

The Mystery of the Leaping Fish (1916)

The Outlaw and His Wife (1918)

The Ghost of Slumber Mountain (1918)

The Cinema Murder (1919)

Victory (1919)

Satan (1920)

Dracula's Death (1921)

The Fire Eater (1921)

The Four Horseman of the Apocalypse (1921)

A Debt of Honour (1922)

The Grass Orphan (1922)

Håxan (1922)

When Knighthood Was In Flower (1922)

Ashes of Vengeance (1923)

Raskolnikov (1923)

Ballet Mécanique (1924)

The Dark Angel (1925)

Smoldering Fires (1925)

Zander the Great (1925)

Kid Boots (1926)

The Triumph of the Rat (1926)

The Drop Kick (1927)

London After Midnight (1927)

Midnight Taxi (1928)

Sweeney Todd (1928)

The Terror (1928)

The Viking (1928)

A Knight in London (1929)

Bride of the Regiment (1930)

The Girl Said No (1930)

Manslaughter (1930)

The Temporary Widow (1930)

Bought! (1931)

Night Nurse (1931)

The Beast of the City (1932)

Devil and the Deep (1932)

Freaks (1932)

Blood Money (1933)

Design For Living (1933)

The Ghost Camera (1933)

The Vampire Bat (1933)

Viktor und Viktoria (1933)

You Made Me Love You (1933)

The Black Cat (1934)

Death Takes A Holiday (1934)

Little Man, What Now? (1934)

Black Fury (1935)

Crime and Punishment (1935)

Mad Love (1935)

Werewolves in London (1935)

Mr Deeds Goes To Town (1936)

Pennies From Heaven (1936)

The Awful Truth (1937)

La Grande Illusion (1937)

Madame X (1937)

Maid of Salem (1937)

The Prince and the Pauper (1937)

Young and Innocent (1937)

Woman Against Woman (1938)

Each Dawn I Die (1939)

Four Feathers (1939)

In Name Only (1939)

It's A Wonderful World (1939)

The Spy In Black (1939)

1940 - 1969

Arise My Love (1940)

Crimes At The Dark House (1940)

Dead Man's Shoes (1940)

My Favorite Wife (1940)

The Shop Around the Corner (1940)

Man-Made Monster (1941)

Meet John Doe (1941)

One Night in Transylvania (1941)

American Empire (1942)

The Black Sheep of Whitehall (1942)

There Was A Father (1942)

Angels of Sin (1943)

Cabin in the Sky (1943)

Calling Dr Death (1943)

Edge of Darkness (1943)

Heaven Can Wait (1943)

The Leopard Man (1943)

Yellow Canary (1943)

The Children Are Watching Us (1944)

Crime By Night (1944)

It Happened Tomorrow (1944)

Melody of Murder (1944)

The Body Snatcher (1945)

Detour (1945)

The Lost Letter (1945)

A Royal Scandal (1945)

The Beast With Five Fingers (1946)

The Big Sleep (1945)

The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)

The Razor's Edge (1946)

Gentlemen's Agreement (1947)

Devil in the Flesh (1947)

Kiss of Death (1947)

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947)

Bicycle Thieves (1948)

Monkey's Paw (1948)

Noose (1948)

The Red Shoes (1948)

Blue Swords (1949)

The Red Pony (1949)

The Secret Garden (1949)

The Black Rose (1950)

Death Is A Caress (1950)

Destination Moon (1950)

Edge of Doom (1950)

The Flame and the Arrow (1950)

Death of a Salesmen (1951)

The Idiot (1951)

The Thing From Another World (1951)

Your Day Will Come (1951)

The Quiet Man (1952)

The Beggar's Open (1953)

The Blue Gardenia (1953)

By The Light of the Silvery Moon (1953)

Escape By Night (1953)

From Here To Eternity (1953)

House of Wax (1953)

Man on a Tightrope (1953)

Shane (1953)

Tokyo Story (1953)

Robinson Crusoe (1954)

The Caine Mutiny (1954)

Sabrina (1954)

Seven Samurai (1954)

Battle Cry (1955)

Blackboard Jungle (1955)

East of Eden (1955)

Marty (1955)

Giant (1956)

Please Murder Me (1956)

Fear Strikes Out (1957)

Night of the Demon (1957)

The Quiet American (1958)

A Time to Love and a Time to Die (1958)

The Death Ship (1959)

House on Haunted Hill (1959)

Journey to the Centre of the Earth (1959)

The Broken Pots (1960)

Circus of Horrors (1960)

The Dark at the Top of the Stairs (1960)

Exodus (1960)

Eyes Without A Face (1960)

Girl of the Night (1960)

The Human Vapor (1960)

The Little Shop of Horrors (1960)

The Ninth Circle (1960)

Please Don't Eat the Daisies (1960)

Portrait in Black (1960)

Purple Noon (1960)

Testament of Orpheus (1960)

The Time Machine (1960)

The Village of the Damned (1960)

Antigone (1961)

A Bomb Was Stolen (1961)

The Children's Hour (1961)

Homicidal (1961)

The Human Condition (1961)

The Long and the Short and the Tall (1961)

Mothra (1961)

Mysterious Island (1961)

Pocketful of Miracles (1961)

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961)

The Young Savages (1961)

Advise & Consent (1962)

Big and Little Wong Tin Bar (1962)

The Brain That Wouldn't Die (1962)

Carnival of Souls (1962)

Experiment In Terror (1962)

The Exterminating Angel (1962)

Five Miles to Midnight (1962)

Knife in the Water (1962)

Long Days Journey Into Night (1962)

Manchurian Candidate (1962)

Moon Pilot (1962)

The Trial (1962)

A View From The Bridge (1962)

Charade (1963)

Diary of a Madman (1963)

Lilies of the Field (1963)

A Matter of Choice (1963)

Mother of the Bride (1963)

Passenger (1963)

The Raven (1963)

Sunday in New York (1963)

Take Her, She's Mine (1963)

Toys in the Attic (1963)

Walking the Streets of Moscow (1963)

First Men In the Moon (1964)

Of Human Bondage (1964)

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

Chronicle of a Boy Alone (1965)

The Collector (1965)

Flight of the Phoenix (1965)

Lord Jim (1965)

Nightmare Castle (1965)

Tattooed Life (1965)

Alfie (1966)

Arabesque (1966)

Chimes at Midnight (1966)

Daisies (1966)

Come Spy With Me (1967)

Far From the Madding Crowd (1967)

The Fastest Guitar Alive (1967)

The Flim-Flam Man (1967)

Oedipus Rex (1967)

Paranoia (1967)

The Trip (1967)

Ulysses (1967)

The Boston Strangler (1968)

Destroy All Monsters (1968)

The Doll (1968)

The Girl on a Motorcycle (1968)

High School (1968)

The Sea Gull (1968)

The Secret Life of an American Wife (1968)

Signs of Life (1968)

What So Bad About Feeling Good? (1968)

The Assassination Bureau (1969)

The Color of Pomegranates (1969)

Don't Drink the Water (1969)

I'm An Elephant, Madame (1969)

If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium (1969)

A Talent For Loving (1969)

What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice? (1969)

1970-1999

Alex In Wonderland (1970)

Catch-22 (1970)

Diary of a Mad Housewife (1970)

Dionysus in '69 (1970)

How Do I Love Thee? (1970)

I Never Sang For My Father (1970)

The Man Who Haunted Himself (1970)

Michael The Brave (1970)

Of Gods and the Undead (1970)

The Phantom Tollbooth (1970)

There's A Girl In My Soup (1970)

The Traveling Executioner (1970)

The Beguiled (1971)

Bless the Beasts and Children (1971)

The Blood on Satan's Claw (1971)

The Devil Has Seven Faces (1971)

Drive, He Said (1971)

Land of Silence and Darkness (1971)

The Panic In Needle Park (1971)

Straw Dogs (1971)

Villain (1971)

Willard (1971)

1776 (1972)

Aguirre, Wrath of God (1972)

The Assassination of Trotsky (1972)

Frogs (1972)

The Scientific Cardplayer (1972)

Solaris (1972)

The Tall Blond Man with One Black Shoe (1972)

They Only Kill Their Masters (1972)

Badlands (1973)

Blue Blood (1973)

Cops and Robbers (1973)

The Day of the Dolphin (1973)

The Long Goodbye (1973)

Love and Pain and the Whole Damn Thing (1973)

Soylent Green (1973)

Westworld (1973)

Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (1974)

At Home Among Strangers (1974)

The Clockmaker (1974)

Gone in 60 Seconds (1974)

Murder on the Orient Express (1974)

Rhinoceros (1974)

Phantom of the Paradise (1974)

Brother, Can You Spare A Dime (1975)

Chronicle of the Years of Fire (1975)

Cornbread, Earl and Me (1975)

Deep Red (1975)

Graveyard of Honor (1975)

The Land That Time Forgot (1975)

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)

Queen of the Stardust Ballroom (1975)

Tommy (1975)

The Bricklayers (1976)

The Devil's Playground (1976)

Jonah Who Will Be 25 in the Year 2000 (1976)

The Killer Inside Me (1976)

The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane (1976)

Logan's Run (1976)

Backroads (1977)

The Prince and the Pauper (1977)

Death of a President (1977)

The Disappearance (1977)

Eraserhead (1977)

New York, New York (1977)

The Other Side of Midnight (1977)

Pete's Dragon (1977)

The Serpent's Egg (1977)

Wizards (1977)

The Big Fix (1978)

Coming Home (1978)

Days of Heaven (1978)

Germany In Autumn (1978)

Midnight Express (1978)

Remember My Name (1978)

Bloodline (1979)

City on Fire (1979)

A Perfect Couple (1979)

Skatetown, USA (1979)

The Dogs of War (1980)

Heaven's Gate (1980)

Rude Boy (1980)

Stalker (1980)

An American Werewolf In London (1981)

Escape From New York (1981)

Fever (1981)

My Bloody Valentine (1981)

Time Bandits (1981)

Tuck Everlasting (1981)

Alone in the Dark (1982)

Android (1982)

Another Way (1982)

The Beastmaster (1982)

The Border (1982)

Butterfly (1982)

Cannery Row (1982)

Creepshow (1982)

Diner (1982)

Fanny and Alexander (1982)

The Flight of Dragons (1982)

Moonlighting (1982)

The Plague Doctors (1982)

The Pokrovsky Gate (1982)

Tex (1982)

The World According To Garp (1982)

Betrayal (1983)

The Big Chill (1983)

Brainstorm (1983)

Christine (1983)

Daniel (1983)

The Dead Zone (1983)

The Dresser (1983)

The Honorary Consul (1983)

The Illusionist (1983)

The King of Comedy (1983)

Rumble Fish (1983)

The Scarlet and the Pipe (1983)

The Survivors (1983)

Trading Places (1983)

The Ice Pirates (1984)

The Killing Fields (1984)

The Last Starfighter (1984)

Repo Man (1984)

Rhinestone (1984)

A Year of Quiet Sun (1984)

Better Off Dead (1985)

The Black Cauldron (1985)

Fletch (1985)

Fright Night (1985)

Mask (1985)

Re-Animator (1985)

A Room With A View (1985)

9 1/2 Weeks (1986)

The Adventures of Milo and Otis (1986)

An American Tale (1986)

Back to School (1986)

Bue Velvet (1986)

Peggy Sue Got Married (1986)

River's Edge (1986)

Seize the Day (1986)

Sid and Nancy (1986)

Terrorizers (1986)

Voyage to Nowhere (1986)

Youngblood (1986)

Batteries Not Included (1987)

Chronicle of a Death Foretold (1987)

Cross My Heart (1987)

Deadline (1987)

The Hidden (1987)

Ishtar (1987)

Less Than Zero (1987)

The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne (1987)

The Lost Boys (1987)

Mannequin (1987)

Maurice (1987)

Number One With A Bullet (1987)

The Pick Up Artist (1987)

Roxanne (1987)

Wings of Desire (1987)

Withnail and I (1987)

The Year My Voice Broke (1987)

Biloxi Blues (1988)

Bright Lights, Big City (1988)

Dead Ringers (1988)

Earth Girls Are Easy (1988)

Johnny Be Good (1988)

The Music Teacher (1988)

Painted Faces (1988)

Permanent Record (1988)

The Prince of Pennsylvania (1988)

Stealing Heaven (1988)

The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988)

We Think The World Of You (1988)

Working Girl (1988)

Wuthering Heights (1988)

Young Guns (1988)

Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure (1989)

Chances Are (1989)

Dead Calm (1989)

Drugstore Cowboy (1989)

I Love, You Love (1989)

Loverboy (1989)

See No Evil, Hear No Evil (1989)

Signs of Life (1989)

UHF (1989)

Vampire's Kiss (1989)

Weekend At Bernies's (1989)

Darkman (1990)

Flatliners (1990)

The Freshman (1990)

Joe Versus The Volcano (1990)

Problem Child (1990)

Quigley Down Under (1990)

Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead (1990)

Vincent & Theo (1990)

King Ralph (1991)

My Own Private Idaho (1991)

Raise the Red Lantern (1991)

The Babe (1992)

The Crying Game (1992)

Death Becomes Her (1992)

Encino Man (1992)

Howard's End (1992)

Jámon Jámon (1992)

School Ties (1992)

Toys (1992)

Benny & Joon (1992)

Dave (1992)

Dazed and Confused (1992)

Heart and Souls (1993)

In the Name of the Father (1993)

Malice (1993)

Money For Nothing (1993)

The Night We Never Met (1993)

The Piano (1993)

The Remains of the Day (1993)

Searching For Bobby Fischer (1993)

So I Married An Axe Murderer (1993)

Swing Kids (1993)

The Three Musketeers (1993)

Tombstone (1993)

The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert (1994)

Airheads (1994)

Corrina, Corrina (1994)

Only You (1994)

The Pagemaster (1994)

Quiz Show (1994)

Stargate (1994)

When A Man Loves A Woman (1994)

The Arsonist (1995)

Babe (1995)

The Basketball Diaries (1995)

Before Sunrise (1995)

Demon Knight (1995)

Dolores Claiborne (1995)

Empire Records (1995)

Forgotten Silver (1995)

Four Rooms (1995)

Funny Bones (1995)

Hackers (1995)

Home For The Holidays (1995)

Kids (1995)

Mallrats (1995)

Powder (1995)

The Quick and the Dead (1995)

Sabrina (1995)

Crime that Changed Serbia (1995)

Tommy Boy (1995)

Before and After (1996)

The Birdcage (1996)

Bottle Rocket (1996)

The Crucible (1996)

The Fan (1996)

Fear (1996)

From Dusk till Dawn (1996)

Glory Daze (1996)

Marvin's Room (1996)

Michael (1996)

Mr Holland's Opus (1996)

Multiplicity (1996)

Primal Fear (1996)

Pusher (1996)

Shall We Dance (1996)

Sling Blade (1996)

Somersault in a Coffin (1996)

Swingers (1996)

That Thing You Do! (1996)

Trainspotting (1996)

Amistad (1997)

Anastasia (1997)

Boogie Nights (1997)

The Boxer (1997)

Chasing Amy (1997)

Dante's Peak (1997)

The Fifth Element (1997)

Fools Rush In (1997)

Funny Games (1997)

Gattaca (1997)

Lawn Dogs (1997)

Life is Beautiful (1997)

My Best Friends Wedding (1997)

The Postman (1997)

The Rainmaker (1997)

Romy and Michelle's High School Renion (1997)

Wag the Dog (1997)

American History X (1998)

Antz (1998)

Can't Hardly Wait (1998)

Godzilla (1998)

Great Expectations (1998)

Home Fries (1998)

The Interview (1998)

Meet Joe Black (1998)

Music From Another Room (1998)

A Night At the Roxbury (1998)

Of Freaks and Men (1998)

Overnight Delivery (1998)

Patch Adams (1998)

Phantoms (1998)

Pleasantville (1998)

Quest for Camelot (1998)

Return To Paradise (1998)

Rounders (1998)

Rushmore (1998)

Sliding Doors (1998)

Velvet Goldmine (1998)

What Dreams May Come (1998)

After Stonewall (1999)

All the Little Animals (1999)

The Astronauts Wife (1999)

Being John Malkovich (1999)

Big Daddy (1999)

The Bone Collector (1999)

But I'm A Cheerleader (1999)

The Cider House Rules (1999)

Dogma (1999)

EDtv (1999)

eXistenZ (1999)

Galaxy Quest (1999)

Girl, Interrupted (1999)

The Iron Giant (1999)

Monkeybone (1999)

Mystery, Alaska (1999)

Mystery Men (1999)

Never Been Kissed (1999)

Notting Hill (1999)

Office Space (1999)

Snow Falling On Cedars (1999)

Summer of Sam (1999)

2000-Now

28 Days (2000)

Almost Famous (2000)

Bedazzled (2000)

Best in Show (2000)

Billy Elliot (2000)

Dracula 2000 (2000)

Gone in 60 Seconds (2000)

High Fidelity (2000)

Keeping the Faith (2000)

Shadow of the Vampire (2000)

Spring Forward (2000)

Unbreakable (2000)

Bubble Boy (2001)

Disco Pigs (2001)

Donnie Darko (2001)

Ghost World (2001)

Josie and the Pussycats (2001)

Kate & Leopold (2001)

The Others (2001)

Rock Star (2001)

Saving Silverman (2001)

Swordfish (2001)

The Musketeer (2001)

City of God (2002)

Equilibrium (2002)

The Pianist (2002)

Possession (2002)

Punch-Drunk Love (2002)

The Quiet American (2002)

All the Real Girls (2003)

Danny Deckchair (2003)

Gothika (2003)

Green Butchers (2003)

A Guy Thing (2003)

The Room (2003)

School of Rock (2003)

Shattered Glass (2003)

The Station Agent (2003)

Timeline (2003)

Win A Date With Tad Hamilton (2004)

Hidalgo (2004)

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

The Girl Next Door (2004)

13 Going on 30 (2004)

Garden State (2004)

The Village (2004)

Layer Cake (2004)

Raise Your Voice (2004)

Closer (2004)

The Wedding Date (2005)

The Island (2005)

Red Eye (2005)

Just Like Heaven (2005)

Shopgirl (2005)

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Aeon Flux (2005)

Grandma's Boy (2006)

Aquamarine (2006)

Failure to Launch (2006)

She's the Man (2006)

Thank You For Smoking (2006)

V For Vendetta (2006)

Slither (2006)

Just My Luck (2006)

The Omen (2006)

Little Man (2006)

My Super Ex-Girlfriend (2006)

Little Miss Sunshine (2006)

The Illusionist (2006)

Employee of the Month (2006)

The Prestige (2006)

Let's Go To Prison (2006)

The Fall (2006)

Disturbia (2007)

Hannibal Rising (2007)

Waitress (2007)

Bug (2007)

Eagle vs Shark (2007)

No Reservations (2007)

The Brothers Solomon (2007)

Sydney White (2007)

Lars and the Real Girl (2007)

The Martian Child (2007)

Margot at the Wedding (2007)

August Rush (2007)

In Bruges (2008)

Definitely, Maybe (2008)

Be Kind Rewind (2008)

Charlie Bartlett (2008)

Paranoid Park (2008)

Funny Games (2008)

21 (2008)

My Blueberry Nights (2008)

The Foot Fist Way (2008)

The Midnight Meat Train (2008)

The Rocker (2008)

The House Bunny (2008)

Ghost Town (2008)

My Best Friend's Girl (2008)

RocknRolla (2008)

Repo! The Genetic Opera

Fanboys (2009)

Incendiary (2009)

Fired Up! (2009)

Ghost of Girlfriends Past (2009)

The Brothers Bloom (2009)

The Ugly Truth (2009)

Adam (2009)

Big Fan (2009)

Gamer (2009)

Splice (2009)

Bronson (2009)

Law Abiding Citizen (2009)

The Road (2009)

A Single Man (2009)

The Collector (2009)

Fish Tank (2009)

Legion (2010)

Repo Men (2010)

The Losers (2010)

The Trotsky (2010)

Cyrus (2010)

The Kids Are All Right (2010)

Salt (2010)

Never Let Me Go (2010)

Easy A (2010)

I Love You Philip Morris (2010)

Blue Valentine (2010)

Take Shelter (2011)

Sanctum (2011)

Paul (2011)

Limitless (2011)

Jane Eyre (2011)

Source Code (2011)

Dylan Dog: Dead of Night (2011)

Hanna (2011)

We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011)

Priest (2011)

Super 8 (2011)

Fright Night (2011)

The Ides of March (2011)

Anonymous (2011)

Warrior (2011)

Dream House (2011)

In Time (2011)

Young Adult (2011)

Premium Rush (2012)

Would You Rather (2012)

Chronicle (2012)

This Means War (2012)

Wanderlust (2012)

A Royal Affair (2012)

The Five-Year Engagement (2012)

Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (2012)

Lawless (2012)

For A Good Time, Call (2012)

The Words (2012)

Looper (2012)

Seven Psychopaths (2012)

Side Effects (2013)

Jack the Giant Slayer (2013)

Stoker (2013)

Mud (2013)

Byzantium (2013)

The Kings of Summer (2013)

Bad Words (2013)

The Way, Way Back (2013)

Prisoners (2013)

Frank (2014)

Chef (2014)

Rosewater (2014)

The Equalizer (2014)

The Drop (2014)

This Is Where I Leave You (2014)

A Walk Among the Tombstones (2014)

Dracula Untold (2014)

Me and Earl And the Dying Girl (2015)

Chappie (2015)

Hello, My Name Is Doris (2015)

The Gift (2015)

The End of the Tour (2015)

Burnt (2015)

Mr Right (2016)

Jane Got A Gun (2016)

Midnight Special (2016)

Everybody Want Some! (2016)

Green Room (2016)

Money Monster (2016)

The Fundamentals of Caring (2016)

Anthropoid (2016)

Loving (2016)

Frank & Lola (2016)

Paterson (2016)

Sleight (2017)

Table 19 (2017)

Dean (2017)

Brigsby Bear (2017)

You Were Never Really Here (2018)

First Reformed (2018)

Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far On Foot (2018)

Blindspotting (2018)

Juliet, Naked (2018)

Hunter Killer (2018)

#movie recommendations #movie recs

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fuckyeahaldishodge · 5 years

Text

Press: Aldis Hodge Is A Real-Life Superhero, So Give This Man What He Wants

After years of dramatic roles, the “What Men Want” star wants to make you laugh and fulfill his dreams of being a super-powered badass

BET – Legend has it that Aldis Hodge worked cheap early in his career. Really cheap. Like, McDonald’s Happy Meal cheap. The pre-schooler was tagging along on a photo shoot for Ebony Magazine, where his older brother, Edwin, was working. The producers had a last-minute need for another cute kid and Aldis’ mother convinced him to take the gig in exchange for a coveted Batman toy. Thanks to mom’s quick thinking, Hollywood has been gifted one of its most intense and versatile acting talents.

Hodge has amassed a colorful acting resume that includes stints on shows like A.T.O.M.: Alpha Teens on Machines, Friday Night Lights, Supernatural and Leverage. But it was his moving portrayal of a restless slave named Noah on WGN’s Underground that made viewers sit up at attention and cheer with their fingers across social media. In the same year his appearance in Black Mirror as a somewhat single father named Jack living with his girlfriend’s voice literally in his head, allowed him to blend his piercing stares with subdued comedic timing. But now Hodge gets to go for the full belly laughs in the R-rated comedy What Men Want as the bartending, romantic, very single father named Will, who gets caught up in Taraji P. Henson’s mind-reading male-strom.

During a stop at BET, Hodge is adorned in gold, beads and denim fabrics that accent flawless skin that has benefited from the sun’s full attention. He walks with squared shoulders inherited from his retired Marine parents. His cape is invisible. If not for the disarming laughs cracking his intense looks, you might think he’s one cartoonish horn blare away from taking off through the ceiling to catch a meteor hurtling toward earth. Between bites of his lunch we talk about the comedy of sex, his fascination with controlling time, engineering the perfect date and being a champion for the people.

I didn’t cross reference it until just today. I just recently did an interview where I was like, “Dang, she was inside my head, too! What’s going on?” But it was pretty cool. The synergy was awesome. But with each role, I come at it with a clean slate and figure out where the tones are. I had been out of comedy for a long time, not my choice, but for the past five to seven years my career has been swinging up into the drama area. But most people don’t realize comedy is a big part of my life. I started stand-up when I was 11. When I was 13 I used to host a room at the L.A. Improv and I did that ‘til I was 17 or 18 years old. Then on Leverage we did five seasons of that. It was an action caper show but I still got to flex my comedic muscles. We killed that in 2012, so it’s been a minute. I was happy to reintroduce people to my idea of humor. Will is not inherently the braggadocios funny one. He’s not the big personality in the room. He’s reactionary. He’s gonna have a sense of realism, so his comedic timing is subtle. The tones and notes are a little more subdued, and that’s a different tone to play. But our director, Adam [Shankman], took so many different types of comedians with very different timing and put as all together and kept us on the same note. We were always on the same page. You had Josh Brenner, who most people know from Silicon Valley, Pete Davidson from SNL, Wendi McLendon-Covey from Bridesmaids, Tracy Morgan, obviously. Everybody has a different style that they’ve been hitting for a minute, and he just figured out how to weave together. And there are some people you’re not gonna expect to be funny but are hilarious, i.e. Erykah Badu. She’s hysterical. And then I’m there in the mix. As an actor, I’m always hungry for fresh challenges. I don’t like to feel like I’m sitting in a box, and when this opportunity came up, naturally I was nervous at whether or not I could still be funny, and I was hoping. But I just let Adam take care of me on that one.

Speaking of your comedic side, you pranked Taraji with honey buns on the set of Hidden Figures. Did anything else like that go down on set for What Men Want?

Nah. The prank for us was getting through the sex scenes. We wanted to get through those as fast as possible. It’s tough. It’s always a nervous environment when you’re doing scenes like that. But the biggest thing is, because it’s physical comedy, how do you do that without looking stupid? You want people to laugh with you and not at you. But thank God for Adam and Taraji. It’s easy to keep a straight face when you have nerves. We had fun with it. You let yourself fall into it. And Taraji’s a pro. If you see the movie, I took a couple of those hits for real. Some of them reactions are real!

Is it worse to know she knows your thoughts, or is ignorance bliss?

Better not to know, of course. I would not want to know who knows my thoughts. I wouldn’t want anyone to be in my head like that, but if you did know, imagine how anxious you’d be all day. You’d be like Brandon, Josh Brenner’s character, all day. Just rambling to keep people out of your head.

If you had to disguise your thoughts, what would you think about?

Man, most of my thoughts on a regular basis go to design. As soon as I step into a room I’m taking in the square footage, I’m measuring in distances, everything is art to me. Or I’m putting my engineering cap on to see how it’s built. So I don’t think anyone would want to be in my head, because it’s pretty boring. I’m a nerd, bruh.

Speaking of engineering, horology sounds like something men do after a breakup. How did you get into watch making?

I’ve been doing that since I was 19. I just love building things. I’ve always had a natural inclination to create and build, and it satisfies a necessary art. It got to a point in my career, I think I was 13 or 14, where I didn’t have enough life experience to add gravitas to some of these characters I’m trying to play. I started drafting blueprints for my dream house when I was 12. I always loved designing and building, because that’s where my imagination lives. Art is my language, and acting is just an emotional exposition of my art. So, it’s the same thing to me, just a different conduit. But the other side of me is like building, I love crafting things. Horology satisfies a lot of different things. I wanted to be an architect in school but that would mean I’d have to quit acting, and I’m not gonna do that. I’m gonna die in a director’s chair when I’m 110 years old. But what I found about the intricacy of horology and watch design is that it was architecture and painting and mechanical engineering. It satisfied so many points for me, and I could do it at my own pace.

You rarely hear of men discussing their dream house. What did yours look like?

I like space, I like nature. I like to bring the outside inside. There’s a couple of architects that I really love. I grew up on the work of John Lautner, Frank Lloyd Wright, Frank Gehry. But one of the firms I love now is Olson Kundig, particularly Thomas Kundig’s work. His houses are machines. He’ll cantilever a side or a roof and all you gotta do is crank it and you’re lifting the side of your house off. I can’t afford that in New York, but one of these days I’ll have to partner with him for a house.

Your son, Ben, in the film is adorable. What was it like working with him?

Auston Jon Moore. He’s a fun kid. I’m excited to see what happens with his career. He was five years old when we were doing it. Really spunky, good instincts. We had a good time. I was actor-parent-child wrangler. When we were shooting the rooftop scene, we had all this food out, and he kept eating the food. “We need continuity, baby. You gotta put the food back.” He’d say OK, and then we’d come back and he’d have a mouth full of chips. He was awesome.

He had one of my favorite scenes with the panties. Was your “don’t breathe” line ad-libbed?

Yes, that was ad-libbed. I was like, “The baby! What do you do?’ What would I say?” We had fun with that scene because Adam just let us be free and add as much color to the characters as possible. That was a fun day, trying to get him to put on the underwear. When he realized what it was he was like, “Hold up, fam.” So, I had to put the underwear on my head to show him it was cool.

You pulled a Mars Blackmon?

Yeah, yeah. I sacrificed [laughs].

There are two scenes in What Men Want that you’re not in, the card scene and the wedding. Which would you be in if you could?

I definitely would have loved to have worked with Erykah and have a little Taro reading. She was just pouring herself into that character. That’s her imagination splayed out on camera. But I would have loved to see Will have a session with Sistah.

What about the poker game with the athletes?

I think Will might be a card shark, but I don’t know if he got the chips to sit at that table. That was a very high-stakes game, and he’s too smart to bet his rent money. But if he had the chips, I think because of his bartending skills he could read people really well and take home a nice healthy pot.

You’ve been the subject of a lot of wish-casting, particularly to be Green Lantern. Have you ever thought of playing a superhero?

I’d love to be a superhero. I’ve been trying to be a superhero for 12 years. If that opportunity came that way, I’d eat it up immediately. I got into this business as a kid because I loved Batman. I was trying to get my Batman toys. I grew up on Marvel and DC.

Noah from Underground definitely was a superhero. How do you feel about that role years later and the impact he had?

I took it as a grand opportunity just because of the fact, when the initial idea of the show came to me, I was like, “If this is a series about enslavement, how does it work for five or six seasons? Do we want to see our people in persecution for that long? Where is the gratitude that comes out of this for the audience?” But when I read the pilot I was like, “Oh, it shows us in the situation, but not made of the situation.” It showed people in bondage, not slaves. It gave us dignity. It gave the people who went through that an actual identity. They didn’t bring slaves to America, they brought engineers and doctors, brilliant people. So, for me to be able to expose that they had hopes and dreams and still had the strength to find love in those times was immensely powerful, because we’d never see it in our history books. Our schools failed us in that. So the opportunity to add to the dignity of our people was a high honor. I look at all of those characters as superheroes. They actually added the show to curriculum in schools. This is the effect that you can have as an artist. That’s what I love.

With Valentine’s Day is coming up, how would you engineer the perfect date?

That’s tough, man, because you gotta work off the person. It depends on who she is and what she wants. Some ladies want dinner and flowers and some ladies just want to kick back and watch a movie. My ideal date would start with a little dinner, some champagne, maybe some chocolates. Then we’re gonna go to the movie theater, we’re gonna see What Men Want, I’m not even lying. Get her laughing, feeling good, then probably go dancing. Then if I really feel like I’m on my mack-ness, I’mma be like, “Hey, boo. Real quick though, I just wanted you to know that I got your mom a ticket to the movie, too. I wanna let her know it’s her Valentine’s Day, too.” And that’s my ideal date: Dinner, What Men Want and a little dancing.

What Men Want starring Taraji P. Henson and Aldis Hodge is in theaters now!

Press: Aldis Hodge Is A Real-Life Superhero, So Give This Man What He Wants was originally published on Aldis Hodge Online | Est 2010

#aldis hodge #leverage #underground #WGNUnderground #Underground WGN #WGN Underground #straight outta compton #supernatural #turn

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iamnotbrianmay · 5 years

Text

The A Experience

Chapter 8 is here lads... I posted this first in AO3 like four days ago and ten realise I didn’t post this here, so here it goes!

This chapter is otherwise known as the band practice and the three following dates.

The tag list is: @seven-seas-of-why, @twotitsjohndeacon, @dancindeaky, @gee-uloser, @mozzarellamazzello, @mozzie-s, @deracine-dogma-deux, @shutupanddontjudge, @warping-reality, @demianhill

In the end getting out of bed with a terrible hangover is worth it.

When they arrive at the recording studio Brian wonders if he should have just told everyone he had puked that morning in order to skip their rehearsals. When Roger starts tuning his drums and making more noise than absolutely necessary Brian wonders what the quickest, and easiest, way to kill a man is. However, when Roger starts to play Brian feels on cloud nine.

He is mesmerised by the blond and everything he is doing. He watches intently as the younger boy made drumming seem effortless, made the beats blend into each other with military style rolls, and his peculiar way of hitting the cymbal that made his drumming sound like something completely out of this world. By the time Roger stops playing his instrument Brian has decided that he wants Roger to be part of Queen, regardless of how much trouble they would logistically have with keeping up with their lies.

And when Freddie urges him to play along side Roger he finds that together they sound even better than any other times he had played with any other drummer. It's easy to find a song they both know, and seems even easier to improvise once they have gotten the hang of each other's styles. John is quick to join, and then when Freddie urges them to play a song he knows the words to they change to something by the Beatles and let the music flow.

He turns then, walking up to John and suggesting they change from Beatles to Green Day, and is about to do the same with Roger— until he sees the drummer. His blond hair is framing his face like a golden halo, his brow is furrowed in concentration and there is sweat dripping down his neck from the long drumming session he was in.

Brian's guitar skills faltered and the Red Special squealed in protest. John instantly bursts into a fit of laughter and Freddie follows. Roger is frowning in confusion and Brian looks like a tomato with legs.

"Well, I think that might be the only problem we are going to have if Roger joins."

Brian huffed, "Oh as if you have never gotten distracted by John's ass in the middle of a gig."

The comment only made him look even more like an idiot, since John seemed happy about Freddie being called out. And Freddie, well he didn't mind at all by being caught red handed. "Well, he does have a great ass."

"Oh my God," Brian burned brighter, "I am not having this conversation."

Roger cleared his throat and Brian thanked the heavens for the blond, "So does that mean I'm in?"

"I have never heard something quite like what you just did, darling. Of course you are in!"

Roger smirked and locked eyes with Brian, "Great, 'cause I wouldn't want to miss the view of Brian's ass while he plays for the world."

Brian's groan wasn't loud enough to cut through the roars of laughter that filled the room in that moment.

"Yes, I know that I said that you could choose the second date but why the hell did you bring me to a bloody museum?" Roger complained, "Even worse, a modern art museum."

Brian blushed, which seemed to be a recurring thing when he was in Roger's proximity, "I always wanted to have a museum date."

Roger's steps faltered, the wind blew his hair out of his face, and his heart stopped. Damn it, some higher force laughed at Roger's misfortune, I can't believe I'm going to put myself through this. "Okay, lets go to our museum date, but be warned I will pick the most anti-Brian activity I can find for the third date."

He didn't even realise he had basically gotten himself into another date with the beautiful guitarist until Brian's near-blinding smile lit up his face, "Deal, although I would like to think I am full of surprises. You might by surprised by how hard it would be for me to hate a date with you."

Roger tried not to think too much about the implications of Brian's words, and instead marched into the museum with his head held high, determined not to make a fool of himself. In the end Roger didn't actually hate the museum. Bright colours, flashing lights, and fascinating sculptures drew his attention. He even found himself listening to Brian's long explanations of modern art and ended up getting into a discussion with him about how a piece of furniture couldn't possibly be considered art while in line for some ice cream.

"What I'm saying is that a bed can represent a lot!"

"Yeah, and I get that, but a normal bed shouldn't be considered art."

"Why not?"

"Because-"

Their conversation got cut short by the employee, who cleared her throat and smiled, "What can I get for you?"

"Two chocolate cones, please," Brian answered, then turned to Roger, "go find a table, I'll take you the ice creams."

He did as he was told, and found an empty and clean table by an exhibition, which Roger taught it to be a miracle. He sat down and took out his phone and cigarette, then scrolled through Instagram as he waited for Brian. It didn't take long for the guitarist to arrive, and once he saw Roger his eyes widened.

"Roger."

"Yes?"

"You know that part of the exhibition, right?"

Roger had never stood up so fast in his entire life. He turned around to look if the chair or table had been damaged, and nearly cried when he was that the paint on the table was chipped. He knew the ridiculous prices for these things, and knew that chipped painting would probably end up costing thousands of pounds. But then Brian started laughing.

He turned around to find the other man covering his mouth with a cone of ice cream while he laughed at Roger. It didn't take long for the drummer to put two and two together, "You fucking wanker."

Brian laughed even harder, "It was too good of a chance to let it go."

Roger grabbed his ice cream from Brian's hand and shoved him back. The other man kept laughing as he sat back down on the, definitely not part of the exhibition, chair.

"You could find nothing better than paint ball?"

Roger shrugged, "I told you you wouldn't enjoy it."

"Yeah, but at least I took you to a place where we could talk and get to know each other," Brian complained as he put his hair up in a bun and tucked it behind the eye mask they gave them. "Here we will be shooting at one another because, as it turns out, we are in different teams."

"Come on," Roger said, "It'll be fun."

And that is how Brian found himself in the middle of a paintball match with a couple dozen of Roger's friends, surprising everyone, himself included, with his natural talent at paint ball. He weaved himself through the labyrinth of obstacles that littered around the field trying to find some unfortunate soul that was close enough for him to hit, and trembling with fear at the prospect of being hit.

That's how Brian May inevitably ends up facing off against Roger Taylor.

He knows the other man is the only one left because people had been screaming at them about ending each other. Calling out Brian's name and giving him helpful tips. Eventually everything comes down to who is a better shot, and Brian regardless of how much luck had been on his side that afternoon, had nothing on Roger who had probably played paint ball over a thousand times.

He tried, he really did, but his shots were not even close to what Roger could do.

He watched in slow motion as Roger aimed, fired, and hit him square in the face.

Pain bloomed across his cheekbone and the world turned into a series of flashing lights and white noise. One second he was crouching behind a bunch of tires, the next his head was laid on Roger's lap and the younger boy was looking at him with guilt in his eyes. Roger's callused fingers were ghosting over his forehead and he was rubbing small circles into Brian's arm with his free hand.

"Are you okay?"

Brian smiled, then winced at the pain caused by the action, "You look cute when you are worried."

Roger's eyes widened, then he turned his head and screamed, "Someone get the paramedics!"

"Okay, so the restrictions are," Brian scratched his nose, "No boring places like a museum or a cinema."

"Yes."

"No dangerous activities like paint ball."

"I'm still sorry about that."

"I know, Rog," Brian said, "and I have told you a million times before not to worry about it."

"I'm sorry."

Brian sighed in exasperation, "We can't go to a restaurant cause we already ate, can't go to the mall because you think it's the lamest thing on planet earth, and we can't stay here because we both want to go out."

"Trying to agree with you is impossible."

Brian glares at Roger and turns back to his laptop and their embarrassing search history of "Things to do in London" which ended up being a bunch of turist traps or market places which both of them knew to stay away from. Finally, Roger sighed and leaned back, trying to to show how angsty he was to get out of the flat, "Maybe we should get out of London."

"Out?" Brian questioned, "Like to the countryside?"

"No," Roger turned the laptop away from Brian and typed a few words on the browser before turning it back towards Brian, "I was think of something like this."

Fab

Family

Fun

Brighton Your Thursday

"The Palace Pier?" Brian's said incredulously, "you seriously want to go all the way to Brighton to get into a roller coaster?"

Roger nodded excitedly, "The pier is fun enough for me, and the forty minute train ride dull enough for you." Brian glared at the comment, but Roger didn't stop speaking, "Come on, I'm sure it's been ages since you last went there! It'll be fun!"

And that's how Brian and Roger ended up on the first train to Brighton they managed to catch, exchanging childhood stories and laughing about their awkward phases. Once they got there, and ended up spending a bunch of their money of stupid things like carnival rides and fairy floss, Brian acknowledged the appeal of leaving London for the afternoon.

Roger turned out to be quite the screamer on carnival rides, and Brian ended up nearly vomiting after getting into the same carnival ride three times in a row due to the small amount of people that were in Palace Pier because of the cold. They only left once they had blindly spent more than twenty pounds on silly arcade games turned into competition once they discovered the joy of competing for a prize.

Their lovely evening, however, got spoiled by a problem in the train tracks, a robbery gone wrong or something similar that left them stranded in Brighton for the night, with enough money between them to either get dinner or rent a cheap motel room, not both. So they decided that probably they could survive a night by eating peanuts and hotel candy, and rented out the best possible room they could get.

Brian was flipping through channels on the TV, searching for something to watch while Roger came back from his food run. They had found five pounds stuffed in the depths of Brian's jeans and had wasted no time to get something to eat. He mindlessly pressed the channel button again and froze when he saw Sandra Bullock's face on the screen.

He knew this movie by heart. The Proposal's complete script was tattooed on his brain because of the sheer amount of times he had watched that movie. And now that he was basically in the same situation as the protagonists he felt even more for the poor couple. He watched the next ten minutes absentmindedly until he heard the unmistakable rattling of the door being opened.

He quickly turned off the TV and walked over to the door, opening it to allow Roger to go inside. The blond smiled, his nose looked red from the cold and he looked adorably small underneath the two jumpers he had taken to avoid freezing to death.

"God, Brian," He said as he walked into the room, slamming the door shut with the heel of his boot, "I think we got ourselves a feast, and all thanks to my good looks and charm."

"Lucky lady?"

He dropped the bags on the bed, "Lucky lad. Poor bloke actually thinks I'm going to call him back."

He started rambling about what he had managed to get, raging from pre-made sandwiches to two jars of Pringles. He watched in adoration as Roger beamed at the prospect of eating Gummy Bears for dessert, and was rudely brought back to reality when he asked Brian what he had been doing before he arrived. He thought about the movie, how the characters in it had known each other for over three years before they fell in love, and how Brian was no Sandra Bullock. He couldn't make Roger magically fall in love with him over the course of two weeks.

He looked at the calendar set on the table, two days actually. The dinner had come faster than expected between their dates, band practice, and the endless nights in which Roger had tagged along to some bar or restaurant after classes, and they had this double date like dynamic. He was snapped out of his thoughts when a callused hand was put on his cheek.

He looked up to find Roger's concerned eyes, "Bri, are you okay?"

"Roggie," the nickname slipped without his consent and Brian felt like hitting his head against the nearest wall. Outside it had started raining, and the fat raindrops clattered against the window in soft harmony.

Was Brian okay?

No, I'm not. This was supposed to be something that lasted three or four days at most. You were supposed to be a bland, average looking, white guy on Tinder looking for some fun. I wasn't supposed to like you, I wasn't supposed to take you home that night at the bar. I wasn't supposed to enjoy sleeping next to you and waking up cuddled with a total stranger. I wasn't supposed to enjoy that first date were you took me drinking, or the second date to the stupid museum, or the third were you nearly shot my eye off, or this date which he ended up stranded on a crappy hotel room with Pringles as our dinner.

I wasn't supposed to adore the way you play the drums.

I wasn't supposed to want you to be my first shag, or my first proper kiss for that matter.

I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, yet I did.

Now I'm gonna be heart broken because there's no way you would like me back.

Instead the words get caught in his throat. and what comes out is, "We need to talk about how we are going to break up."

An indescribable emotion flickered across Roger's eyes and he took his hand away, but then he wrapped it across Brian's wrist and gave it a soft tug, "Tomorrow, I promise. Today lets enjoy the food."

Brian hesitated, but he looked down at Roger's hand and thought to himself that maybe he could indulge himself for one night. One night of pretending before it was all cut off. So Brian slid his hand down and entwined his fingers with Roger's, "Whatever the chef recommends."

#the a experience fic #brian may #roger taylor #maylor #freddie mercury #john deacon #my writing #fanfic

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dominushq · 5 years

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❝ Reality is perhaps not at all what I imagine. Perhaps it doesn’t exist, in fact. Perhaps it only exists as a longing. ❞

MARCUS ELLIS is a NINETEEN year old THEOLOGY AND RELIGION student at ST. JOHN’S in the University of Oxford. THEY are in their SECOND year of studies.

DESCRIPTION

When the other children were playing, you were singing hymns to the eternal glory of God. When they were reading picture books, your father had you memorising the Holy Scriptures. Being the child of a clergyman was difficult enough, but being the child of an archbishop was even more so. After all, a puritanical upbringing meant that you were deprived of much of life’s more earthly joys. You lived your life under the shadow of the cross, and you know that you too are destined to follow the same path that your father had paved for you, but you chafe under the burden of all that expectation. Divinity is something that feels foreign and strange all at once for you: equal parts captivating and terrible to behold.

You feel drawn to something you don’t quite know you’ll ever achieve; contentment is a fever dream meant only for those who are content with normalcy, but a life in green pastures was never for you. Neither, however, is a life of supreme excitement. What you want out of this life is a reason for all of it. You dream of God and wake up with nothing but yourself to believe in. It’s ironic and you’d laugh if you didn’t find it all so tragic. You do your utmost to cover up the hollowness in your soul. You carve a rough home out of books, trying to find meaning in narrative and interpretation, but there is nothing that comforts you outside of text. When you pray, there is only silence.

CONNECTIONS

Although you regret the death of CAESAR, you knew that it was coming sooner or later. The possibility of peace was always too good to be true and while you played along with his plans, you knew that not everybody would be so willing. What surprised you, however, was your participation in his murder. You have never felt an exhilaration like that before, never felt so human as you did when you held him down and plunged that knife into his chest. Perhaps this has been what you were looking for all your life; perhaps this was all you needed.

Like it or not, you can’t help but notice that MESSALINA and you seem to have a lot in common—not that they can see the similarities, but it is enough for you alone to notice them. Perhaps if you were braver, you’d try to reach out to this fellow lonely soul and establish a friendship (and here, you almost hear a condescending sneer) but you’ve always been a coward. So instead you watch and wait and brood on your loneliness, equal parts resenting and admiring her, a contradiction of emotions that you had eventually chosen to just ignore.

You grew up in the same social circles as CAESAR and JUSTINIAN (and, to a lesser degree, AUGUSTUS). You were never quite friends with them, nor did you really wish to be, but watching them felt like some sort of wish-fulfilment. It wasn’t that you envied them their lifestyle, for you lived in the same excesses that they did, but there was a certain itch that they scratched, even if unknowingly. You don’t know how JUSTINIAN’s taking in the death of CAESAR; you don’t know if you should feel guilty, or if you can feel guilty.

FACECLAIM: Niels Trispel

Their character tag can be found here.

BIOGRAPHY

trigger warnings: stillbirth

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ( John 1:1)

These words spill out of your lips, over and over again, as if you’re a broken record. Your father asks you to continue and you try to recite the next verse from memory alone, the Bible in front of you only ever to be consulted if strictly necessary. This could almost be a vigil, except you’re far too young to know what the words really mean, and so it ends up meaning nothing, the words just remaining words instead of whatever phenomenon your father had hoped to conjure up. It’s not that you’re stupid—you could, if you concentrate hard enough, conceptualise of a word given Being (and, even now, you know it’s with a capital B)—but the concept of divinity itself is foreign to you, even as your father exemplifies it with his very being and your mother takes great care to ensure that you’re brought up in the faith.

You know he’s an important man and that you are, in some ways, blessed for having such a man for a father but his title means nothing to you—at least not for now. It will in the future, but the future’s a long way away still. For now, you are a child.

( But were you ever really a child? )

This is an account of the heavens and the earth. ( Genesis 2:4 )

This is how your life starts: you are born to The Right Reverend Thomas Weatherby Ellis and a schoolteacher named Lady Margaret Anne Grosvenor. You are their only child, after complications from a birth after yours resulted into a stillbirth and the inviability of your mother’s womb to ever bear fruit again. The years of your childhood pass by without consequence, and you are hard-pressed to remember the details that surround your early life. If you concentrate hard enough, you can think of the feel of leather under your cheek as you dozed off while studying, the way you thought that gilding at the edges of the Bible would rub off on your fingertip and the disappointment when it didn’t, and the way expectation always seemed right around the corner, a familiar and dark thing that has been your nurturer more than either of your parents.

Beyond these, however, there is nothing much else—not for the reasons of tragedy or great harm, but because you’ve always been mature for your age: an adult in a kid’s body was what they called you, and you’ve realised through the passage of the years that you were never really a child in the conventional way other children were. In a way, you’re more mature than any of your other peers. (In another, this repression has made you capable of a childishness that shocks even you, resulting in a fearful wanting that only children are capable of—a wanting that you deny exists but continues to do so nonetheless.)

You do not remember much of your childhood because it blends from this day and the next and so on, an almost stunning replica of your life right now that it feels as if you have stood unchanging since the dawn of time. However hard you try, you can’t ever remember a time when you haven’t always been like this, as if the void has always been inside of you, swallowing any vestiges of real emotion, sapping you of the vitality that you keenly feel is so present in other people but not you, never you.

( Have you always been wanting? )

Pray, then, like this: our Father in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. ( Matthew 6:9 )

There is a great bustling in your life one day, a great rupture in the routine schedule of your day-to-day living. People tell you your father is a great man—no, a good man, a holy man—and they say this as if it should mean something to you. They hail your family as a paragon of virtue and they think that the knowledge you have is proof of your father’s upstanding virtue. His titles change and you move into a new place called Lambeth, a veritable palace in comparison to your former residence, which you are quick to forget. (Some days you forget even its name, until it hits you suddenly: Bishopthorpe.) It’s a stretch to say you’ve flourished in your new residence, but the library at Lambeth does become your home, for whatever it’s worth, and your mother often found you passed out in between stacks of books.

You stay for only a couple of years or so at most before you get shipped out to boarding school. It’s a tradition, after all, and that is what your family has stood for ever since time immemorial. The decision is not without its detractors—for how, some say, can a man who profess to follow the example of Jesus Christ justify the use of so much money?—but then you test as a Queen’s Scholar and the news of the extravagance of your tuition fees is swept away by news of your precociousness. They begin whispering that you will be like your father some day, a scholar in the service of Christ, knowledge pursued and discovered for the greater glory of God.

You don’t know what to think about that.

( And so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes— )

Let no one be found among you who sacrifices his son or daughter in the fire, practices divination or conjury, interprets omens, practices sorcery, casts spells, consults a medium or familiar spirit, or inquires of the dead. ( Deuteronomy 18:10-11)

Your father tells you the history of your family one night when you are home after Michaelmas term.

It is a long and proud history, he says, one in which he and your mother took part in, and which you will take part in one day soon. Oxford’s secrets will be laid bare before you, as well as the secrets of the universe and the meaning of life, but—perhaps most importantly—you will come to know the most important people who will undoubtedly make changes in the history of your nation, if not the world. The preparations have already been made, he tells you. A boy should have come up in Eton to befriend you and tell you all about it, but he’s just making sure.

The last statement confuses you. You have no friends. It’s the first fact anyone at your school knows about you. You’re the student that always keeps to themself with their books, distinguished academically but not much else. Your father frowns when you tell him this and tells you a name, while in the same breath asking if nobody has truly come to you before he said all this.

You recognise the name as a boy who you’ve ignored all throughout the year. You realise that your father probably won’t like it if you tell him you’ve ignored who was supposed to be your... mentor, you supposed (for lack of better term), so you tell him nothing and just shrug, saying you’ll follow it up when you get back for HT.

You never do. In fact, you don’t acknowledge the boy as someone who exists at all, and he does the same to you. You take your A-Levels and get into Oxford to read Theology and Religion and you expect nothing to come out of the heritage you inherited from both of your parents—but then comes the invitation and the initiation. You don’t refuse but neither do you really accept it: you just went along with everything, an almost fatalistic and nihilistic apathy tinging your actions. They give you the name Marcus not knowing that it already is your middle name, purely because of your reputation as an academic, never mind the fact that you don’t really follow the philosophical code championed by Marcus Aurelius. You say nothing about it: you don’t think they’re the sort of crowd to care much for historical accuracy, anyway.

Your membership is one that is at the sidelines. You are an audience member to the theatricality of the whole thing, knowing as you do that every words is blasphemy and realising that your father and mother (holy folk, people called them) have committed idolatry several times over—and that now you will follow in their footsteps: singing hymns to a pantheon that’s now defunct, toasting to spirits that aren’t even there, and committing cruelties that would make the hunting sessions some of your father’s friends go to look tame.

You take part in it, but you don’t believe in it. You believe in nothing, really, and perhaps that’s been your most fatal flaw. You’ve been oversaturated with holiness, with sacredness, with belief—so much that you must have gotten sick of it over time without your knowing, and now you’re condemned to a life half-lived as punishment for a sin you didn’t even know you committed.

It has always been like this, and it always will be like this.

( So it has been, and so it shall be, forever and ever. )

#lsrp #lsrpg #skeleton rp #new rp #rpg #s #skel: marcus #link: messalina #link: justinian #c

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tuneoftyourdeath · 6 years

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So I wanted to show people this

I wrote this story some while ago and never really showed it to anyone, but I’m somewhat proud of it. I miss writing so much and I guess I still cling onto the old stuff I’ve written BUT ANYWAY I hope you (whoever is reading this) enjoy it!!

A Report of Time

By mightytime.

I’ve always been impressed with the abstraction with which people define me. The use me, make the most of me, throw me away, and some don’t even know what to do with me. I can go by faster or slower; therefore, they keep on trying to keep me organised. Pathetic. For some, I’m the most precious thing in the world; for others, I’m just a heartless bastard weighing on the shoulders. But not this fellow in particular, whose story I’m about to tell you. This one simply couldn’t make up his mind.

John was his name. Not very tall, not very rich, not very lucky, not very much of anything, really. He lived in London, God Save the Queen!; and despite looking like an ordinary man, worried about the weather, the traffic, the bath temperature; only two things took hold of his thoughts: Alice and me.

Each minute of each day he thought of us two, his thinking about her entwined with his thinking about me. It’s a funny thing, I’d say. It had been quite a while they hadn’t seen each other, John and Alice; they met at school years ago when I was still an ally and my permanence didn’t seem to interfere. Naivety, I’d say; allowing yourself into such substantial feeling, regardless of the damage that my prolonged stay might cause, is one of the sweetest innocences I’ve ever encountered.

She was, humbly saying, what you’d imagine an angel looks like: Beautiful, generous, caring, delicate and strong at the same time, clever and cautious, capable of making any lad fall head over heels, and specially John. He felt lucky. “How come me?” he thought; “Why me? Why the shy, unnoticed, so messed up me?” Maybe she was just as misunderstood as him, or maybe she regarded a sense of wholesomeness in him that fit perfectly into whatever was missing in her life. It doesn’t really matter, what only did matter was that they must have found something in each other that made my presence insignificant, till then, the war.

John had been sent to war, Vietnam. He had left Alice in tears but he had no choice. Two years in combat had been inflicted to him and it was the best offer he got, believe it or not. There was a goodbye party, friends, drinks, lots of speeches and hugs. And as before the altar and God himself, Alice and John promised themselves to each other for as long as they were apart. The makeshift wedding ring, a brooch that was gently threaded upon Alice’s coat, vouched for their hasty, yet true, vow.

Bombs, chaos, unceasing firing and fear. John had never seen anything like it; he’d never been capable of imagining how far the eyes could behold such horror. I’ve seen worse, in all my raging unstoppable existence, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn my guts or makes me sickly miserable; but to him it was immeasurably worse; to bare it all, the sweet tender John; and I must admit that my having been there didn’t help him very much.

John counted me, constantly thinking and avoiding thinking about me. He couldn’t decide whether to ignore me or if to just endure my lingering about would make it hurt less. Which somewhat made me upset, because it’s not nice at all to know you’re part of someone’s suffering.

In spite of always mailing letters to each other during their separation, as to help with coping, he had been yearning acutely to see her again since the day he left. In his words, he’d put it the same way: “Still alive, still for you”. And every night he used to sit on the edge of his bed, looking at the brooch, flipping it through his fingers, imagining her smile and the soft warm touch of her lips pressing onto his once again.

Given that I never, and could never, stop, he eventually came back home, thank The Lord. He had a rendezvous with Alice in a nice charming restaurant downtown London. He could just picture it: She would walk in through the double doors and ask the waiter for John, but no answer would be necessary, because before the waiter could even conclude his sentence, Alice’s eyes would meet John’s. She would then rush to his arms, and dive into his embrace; finding in it again the ease and reassurance of John’s clasp; and like in a movie, they would kiss as if it were the last time.

It was around midday and John was already there. He had bought her flowers. Daisies; her favourites. Even forgot to throw the receipt away, so it was still in his pocket, staining his pound notes. He was dressed up in a military uniform, sharp, and even had a dog tag tangling down his bruised neck. Was he trying to prove something to himself, to make up for the war frenzy, or was it just pride? Go figure... And again, he insisted upon thinking of me, awful things really; that I was stalling Alice’s arrival; that I had some sort of problem with him. Not fair, for neither John, nor me. They say I can drive people quite unhinged, and there are a few times I do believe that, the way they derange themselves around me.

By the table, John was a grenade with its pin pulled off. He would explode at any moment. Affliction took hold of his senses. At the table behind him, an old lady tried to convince her husband that The Bahamas were the best place to spend this holiday season. A bit ahead, a mother was hopelessly trying to make her fretful baby stop crying. To his left, two parents were telling their daughter off for getting home late the night before.

There was a silent nervous breakdown. The shrieking sound coming from the coffee machine when filling another cup hit his ears the same way a bullet does when it grazes the scalp. Each piece of cutlery dropped onto the floor made him shiver; they reminded him of a projectile brushing the surface of his helmet. The yelled words between waiters and cooks were as unclear as those between soldiers and their commanders resonating midst the disarray of bloodshed.

He was back in the battle field, sifting through in his head, instructions he had received whilst in training, searching for an evasive manoeuvre: In case of running out of ammunition, check the bottle temperature before giving it to the baby. No, wait. If an air raid menaces, then we won’t have to buy any presents this year. What? What was it again? “AH!! LOOK FOR SHELTER!! “But dad I’m already fifteen!” “AH!! HELP US!!”

He couldn’t bring himself to hearing himself think with so much going on around. Praying for the mayhem to cease at once, he glared at his watch, that stupid little thing people use to... how is it again? Oh, right, measure me. He swore he could hear me laughing at him through it. And how heavy it was, it trapped and squeezed him like a handcuff, straining him away from his girl...

...his girl.

Suddenly it all went mute; John could only but hear his heavy breathing when his gaze fell upon her visage. There she was, waiting across the street for the lights to go green, distracted, almost ditsy-like; and staring wistfully at a piece of paper in her hands. Alice looked beautiful, gorgeous, flaring; the breath-taking usual Alice. She’d had her hair cut, and a locket was perfectly visible around her neck. The sun reflected vividly on her golden locks, aiming straight at John’s astounded eyes, who had broken free from the trance he was deep plunged into and was now moving towards the door.

Stepping out onto the pavement, he tried to come up with what to say to Alice, but there were no words to express what he felt, what he had been feeling, how bad he missed her. His feet led him while he crossed the street. “That’s odd”, he thought, “Why haven’t you seen me yet? I mean, I’m right in front of you, and the lights are already green! Why are you still looking at that silly piece of paper? What on earth is it!?” And then he saw. It was a picture he had given her before going away, so she could remember what he looked like, in case she’d come to forget it.

She looked over, her distracted feature was instantly undone into such a smile I swear, not even I could ever forget it. John stuffed his lungs with air:

- Alice! I…

He was swept off his feet as his legs were disassembled by a sudden bumper, tossing him away, making him soar in the air like a leaf adrift in autumn. Alice was speechless for a moment, and I must admit, so was I. People who were passing by turned at the scene. Some were shocked, some disgusted, some dismayed; but they all felt sorry for the dead man and the sobbing girl who lied hunched forward on what was left of him. John’s soul, and then of course, his body, was withdrawn amongst the cars, that opted to just swerve the mournful scene, rather than to properly stop and demonstrate a shred of respect for our unfortunate lovers. All because they couldn’t wait; apparently, they were also worried about me...

...but that’s never done any good to anyone, has it?

Well that’s about it, folks! :)

#story #originalstory #shortstory #chronical #1960s #lovestory #time #war #love #fiction #:)#lightreading #dreaming #distance #longing

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