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amanda-glassen · 3 years

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Can I request some Jamie with Becca… maybe a little softer than usual? 🥺 that Beccarena story has me craving more soft Becca

A/N: Not completely soft but here's Becca opening up to Jamie. Thank you for the request!

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take Serena?” she heard Jamie ask while fixing her hair. Jamie’s hair was one of the features Becca liked the most－in addition to her arms, her abs, and her hands, which she would have liked to have all over her if they didn’t have to get ready.

“I can’t, babe,” Serena said as she wrapped her arms around Jamie from behind. “I promised Olivia and Elliot that I’d take them to the movies.”

“I could take them to the movies,” Jamie insisted. “You should go and have fun with your friends.”

“Mm, it’s a slasher, though,” Serena nuzzled into her. “You wouldn’t like it and they can’t go alone because it’s Rated R, so it looks like I’ll have to take them.”

Becca sat on the bed and sifted through her jewelry box, looking for the necklace she wanted to wear. It was the lavalier Serena had given her when they were in college and, although it was over a decade since they had lived in the sorority house, she wore it from time to time so she could feel close to her. “Besides, they’re not her friends,” Becca smirked. “Ser hates these bitches and so do I.”

“Then why are we－”

“Consider it a social obligation,” Becca interrupted her. “My line sisters and I have a reunion every couple of years and you’re practically shamed if you don’t go. In two weeks, it’s Ser’s, so have fun.”

“What?” Jamie asked in disbelief. “I’ll have to go to another one of these?”

Serena stood on her tiptoes so she could kiss her. “We can’t help it that you’re so handsome and we both want to show you off.”

Becca noticed Serena’s comment had made Jamie start to blush and she decided to have a little fun with Jamie herself. “Let us show you off, Jamieson. We’ll make it up to you tonight. How about you make me take it from behind while I go down on Serena?”

Jamie looked as if she were considering it, but then their true intentions dawned on her. “I know what you two are doing. You’re using sex to manipulate me into doing things and I just wanna tell you that you can’t be doing that anymore.”

“Yes, we can,” Serena responded, her fingertips trailing along the zipper of Jamie’s slacks. “But you love everything you get to do to us and everything we do to you.”

“I know what always works for her.” Becca made her way over to them so she could kiss Jamie’s neck as Serena's hand was underneath the front of Jamie’s boxer briefs. “I’ll ride your cock while Serena rides your tongue.”

The soft moan that escaped Jamie’s lips let them know they had managed to convince her yet again. “Beck, feel how hard and swollen her clit is,” Serena told her as she began to rub Jamie’s clit. “Maybe we should get on our knees and suck on it first.”

With less than half an hour before they had to get ready and Serena had to leave, they used the time to convince Jamie while on their knees and then with Jamie on her back.

After quickly washing up, Serena put on a pair of jeans and one of her Columbia hoodies. When she put her curly hair up in a ponytail, Becca was reminded of when they were in college and Serena would put her hair up and wear a hoodie on cold, rainy days because she said the rain made her curls frizz. She was cute then and even cuter now.

Once their Ser Bear was gone, Becca knew it was time to get ready, but she couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed. She didn’t know how it happened, but being in a relationship with Jamie and Serena had brought out the warm, cuddly side of her.

“Are you trying to hint at something?” Jamie asked as Becca scooted back so she could press her backside to Jamie.

“Hard again?” Becca asked playfully as she felt the toy pressed against her. “Take it off so you can cuddle me.”

Without any hesitation, Jamie removed the toy from her harness briefs and set it down on the nightstand. “As much as I love cuddling you, we have to get ready.”

“No,” Becca whined. She grabbed Jamie’s arm and wrapped it around her. “It’s your fault I’m in a post sex haze and I don’t want to get up. If you rail me, you’re gonna have to take care of me.”

She felt Jamie press delicate kisses to her shoulder. “You sound more and more like Serena each day. I don’t think she’s a good influence on you...or anyone for that matter.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that,” Becca responded as she placed her hand on top of Jamie’s and cuddled into her as close as she could. “I can’t believe I’ve known Ser for half my life already. To be honest, I can’t really remember much about my life before she was in it.”

“Ser seems to have that effect, or maybe I just don’t like to think about who I was before her. I’ve been with a lot of women. A lot. And I didn’t always have the best of intentions, but then Serena came along and I felt like someone had flipped a switch inside of me. Well, that and, quite frankly, I felt like if I were to break her heart she’d kill me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Becca chuckled. “You’d have ceased to exist for sure. I probably would have helped her.”

“Remind me to do everything the two of you say.”

Becca turned around so she could face her. “You already do, Jamieson. I think you should know that the key to loving Serena is to remain slightly afraid of her. I’m still in disbelief about Britt.”

Jamie tucked some strands of stray hair behind her ear. “Now that Serena isn’t here, are you gonna tell me what happened?”

“No fucking way, Jamieson,” Becca playfully pinched her arm. “Lexie and I promised Serena that we’d take it to our graves. Nice try, though.”

“When we were at her parents’ house, she said it was because of the election and then more recently she said it was because of something Britt said about Kyle. Which is it?”

Becca held out her pinky to Jamie. “Shut up. I know this is juvenile, but the pinky promise is sacred and once you pinky promise, you can’t tell Serena you know this.” Jamie gave her a confused look before linking her pinky to hers. “The whole thing was ugly. They hated each other since they were pledging. We thought it was interesting though, like one of those college movies where the snobby girl has to be defeated. We had fun with the rivalry until one night it wasn’t fun anymore. We couldn’t prove it, but we know she set Serena up that night Emerson…you know.” Knowing how the story was going to affect Jamie, she paused to give her a kiss on her hand. “Emerson is weak and everyone knew Serena wore the pants in that relationship. Some of his frat brothers would tease him about it, but it was all in fun and he’d fire back that he was man enough to not feel emasculated by a strong-minded woman. Serena seemed to love that. Those two were always making out. It was fucking disgusting. I felt like I was gonna vomit every time I saw them.”

Jamie chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved you as much as I do right now.”

“What Ser ever saw in his bitch ass, I’ll never know,” Becca shook her head. “He was funny, though, and I guess some pretty girls are willing to lower their standards as long as the guy is funny. I’m probably going to hell for this but when I first saw Olivia, I was like oh thank god she’s not ugly and looks nothing like Emerson.”

“Rebecca!”

“What?” Becca laughed. “I know looks aren’t important for a baby, but I’m glad she looks like Kyle and Mr. Benson instead. Kyle’s a nice piece of man candy, but you can never let Ser know I said that. Back to the story, though. I overheard Britt talking to Emerson the night before it happened. They were working on some project together, I think. She told him not to let Serena boss him around and that Serena wasn’t going to respect him if he was so weak. She was saying don’t take no for an answer from Serena even if it means getting a little rough with her. How else was she going to respect him? The next night was the party－and gag－but they were rounding a couple bases in his room. She didn’t want to go all the way yet because what girl wants to get her cherry popped in some disgusting frat house. She told him she wanted to wait and she wanted their first time to be special. That was the moment he decided Serena was no longer gonna call the shots and…you know what happened next. Lexie and I were the first to see her when she got home. She was bruised and he hit her so hard that she busted her lip. I flashed back to the night we met when I had to take her to the ER after she fell and cut her lip, but this time she was so broken. She insisted on taking a shower before she went to the hospital and she didn’t report it. Knowing what happened when she was 13, I didn’t want her alone in the shower where she could easily get a razor so I showered with her. While we were in there, Lexie got her underwear and anything we thought we could use as evidence just in case. Britt told Serena it looked like she finally got what she deserved. A couple of days later, our plan went into action. As President and vice-president, Ser and I had access to everyone’s dietary restrictions for the end of the year formal. We knew Britt had a severe peanut allergy. We’re talking a matter of life and death here so we decided we were going to make chocolate chip cookies with peanut oil. It was the perfect crime. The whole sorority had access to the same cookies, so it’s not like we singled her out. She ended up in the hospital and Britt’s parents went to the administration, but there was nothing that could be done because they couldn’t prove it was intentional. We were all called into a conference room with the administration because of everything that happened that week. It was like we were on some cop show. It was me and my parents, Serena, Lexie, Kyle, and Mr. and Mrs. Benson, Britt with her parents, and Emerson with his. So much generational wealth. The whole thing just wreaked of privilege. Tensions were high. It was the scariest fucking moment of my life. Lexie almost cracked, but Serena was cool as a cucumber. She said her grandma had coached her. She knew exactly how to make herself cry. You know that cute, innocent look she has? Imagine it when she was only 21 and still had her baby face. Jamie, it was scary how good she was. It’s like the room was her stage and she was the lead actress. Lexie and I just followed her lead. Kyle and some of the other guys had beat the hell out of Emerson, so Serena said it was up to her to take care of Britt. Besides, if Emerson dropped dead, it would have been too obvious.”

“Beck,” Jamie said, wide-eyed. “How is it that after your story I am both afraid of my wife yet more in love with her than ever?”

Becca cuddled up to her and placed a kiss on her cheek. “It’s the Serena Effect. There’s no fighting it. You just can’t help loving her.”

“Are you okay?” Jamie asked. “I mean, with us and－”

“I’m fine, Jamieson,” Becca interrupted. “Serena will always be the love of my life, but she’s not the only one I love. Think about it. Why else am I cuddling? Oh and I decided, we aren’t going to my sorority reunion. Fuck it. I’d rather be in bed with you and then we can hold our Ser Bear tonight.”

“Anything you want, beautiful.”

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

Becca swallowed in an attempt at preventing herself from crying. “Thank you for loving her the way you do. Next time the two of you are alone, do me a favor? Kiss the scars on her wrists. She’s always liked when I do that. Don’t say anything, just kiss them. It’s my way of telling her how grateful I am that she’s alive and no matter what she goes through, I’m going to be by her side.”

#jerena #beccarena #jecca

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hallowed-be-thy-username · 4 years

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Hi! Can i just say that i absolutely love your writing and your vibe as a whole? 🥺💞 If i may, I’d like to request a fic where the reader is a very well known socialite, but she gets very bored of her life and wants something different. She suddenly meets J in some sort of situation and becomes infatuated with him & his lifestyle. You must be busy with other requests & your personal life, so if anything, i just want you to know that i love your writing! 💘

Sweet anon!!! AKADJSBAJSND 😭💖 I’m SO sorry this has taken me so long to get to and I hope you see it!! This was a really fun one and I had a great time writing it so I really hope you like it 💕

Self-insert, Ledger Joker x fem reader, first time meeting Joker

Word count: 1,954

Warnings: tension, light violence

Something Different

Another boring party with boring people in a boring place. How many more of these must you endure?

Ah the fabulous life of the daughter of Dr. Thomas Elliot, famous Gotham City surgeon and longtime family friend of the Wayne family. Being born to one of Gotham’s founding families, she lives a life of luxury. Chauffeurs, butlers, ritzy charity events, fashion shows, brand promos, intense boredom. You were certainly grateful for the fact that finances were never something you had to worry about, but at the same time, money imprisoned you. It controlled your every move like a puppet master. Stand like this, wear that, speak this way, don’t forget to smile. And don’t even think about having your own dreams. You had access to all of the means in the world to do whatever you want, right? Wrong. If it’ll tarnish the family reputation on any way, its not gonna happen. Ever. And you’d be surprised at what they consider “tarnishing.” Learning to drive, going to school, coloring your hair, going on dates, having a job, getting ice cream with friends. What friends? You never got to experience these things. Things that were normal. Now you were in your late twenties and the life of the average young adult was completely foreign to you. Its been ten years now. Since you started to hate this life.

You were attending yet another fundraiser at Bruce’s place. What was it for this time? Friends of the Gotham Railway? Society for the Performing Arts? Gotham Heights Country Club’s new golf course? District Attorney Harvey Dent. Didn’t he just get elected? Okay then. It really doesn’t matter anyway. They’re all the same. Gourmet hors d’oeuvres, expensive champagne, some phony inspirational speech, bland conversation, smile through how much your feet hurt in these heels, send a check tomorrow. The predictability you lived your life by was astonishing. When were you finally going to get to do something different?

You lifted another glass of champagne from the tray drifting past you and took a heavy sip. Can’t get to drunk though, what would the media say? You were tempted to do it on purpose, just to mix things up for once. The sound of rough whirring broke you out of your melancholic trance and you turned to see a helicopter landing on the roof top balcony outside. The man himself arriving ever so fashionably late. Linking arms with three women you could only assume to be models, how classy. And here comes the motivational speech. I believe in Harvey Dent, a safer Gotham, optimism, face of our bright future, blah blah blah. Now everybody claps. Just wonderful. Back to our mindless mingling.

The evening continued on like they all do. This time you were stuck trying not to stare at the speck of food stuck in Mr. Kane’s teeth while he droned on about the new hotel, they planned to open it across from the opera house. Would it be uncouth to express to him how little you care about any of that? When you were seconds away from excusing yourself for a bogus trip to the ladies’ room, a loud boom rang out from the entryway. You spun around and your body froze at the sound of his voice.

“Goood evening, ladies and gentle-men.”

It felt like ice was running through your veins when you saw him. Purple suit, shotgun over his shoulder, unkempt green hair, painted face. His face. Covered in white with black swallowing his eyes, bright red over his mouth and crawling up his cheeks in a wicked grin. On the news they called him The Joker.

“We are… tonight’s entertainment! I only have one question… Where. Is. Har-vey Dent?”

He was so tall, walking with a slight slouch but had an air of confidence like you’d never seen. Like he knew just how much attention his presence attracted. No, attention it demanded. Like he knew you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He made it look effortless. Almost like he was bored by it. He tossed food into his mouth, chewing noisily while he spoke. Then he stopped and turned to walk toward the crowd, pointing his shotgun toward the people in front of him before moving on down the line. Your feet grew cold when you realized he was heading in your direction. He tossed champagne out of a glass before mockingly tossing his head back to let the last drop hit his tongue. You couldn’t move a muscle as he leaned in and muttered questions at the people standing nearby. He kept coming. Your heart pounded, climbing into your throat as he got closer.

Then you could see it. It was scars. The red smile stretching across his face, it was painted over scars. Someone had cut through the corners of his mouth on both sides, leaving behind a twisted, permanent, grin. It made your stomach drop. He said something to Mr. Kane, but you couldn’t hear it, only the blood rushing in your ears. He got so close. You swore you could feel the heat from his body, smell something sharp like acetone.

“You remind me of my father.”

Then he suddenly grabbed Mr. Kane by his collar and growled, “I hated my father.”

“Ok, stop.”

Mr. Kane was shoved into you while Joker turned to face the voice coming from behind him. Rachel Dawes, Bruce’s friend for as long as you could remember.

“Well, hello, beautiful. You must be Harvey’s squeeze-ah. Hm?... and you are beautiful.”

He circled her like a wild dog stalking prey, practically licking his chops. Relishing the feeling of cornering his victim. Waving a knife blade at her.

“You look nervous. Is it the scars?... Wanna know how I got ‘em?”

Then he reached forward and gripped her by the back of her neck and her face. You felt your cheeks abruptly grow warmer. He pulled her closer to him, holding her there, not letting her look away. A thought suddenly cut through you mind like the knife in his hand. You wondered if the leather of his gloves felt warm or cool on her skin. Your heart fluttered and a shiver ran down your back. Why were you thinking about that? He intruded without warning and started threatening people, but here you were wanting to know what it was like to be that close to him. You found yourself wishing you were her, just to know what it was like, him touching you.

You hung on to his every word. He had a wife once, who told him he worried to much, that he should smile more, she gambled, got in deep with the sharks. They carved her face, had no money for surgery, she couldn’t take it, he just wanted to see her smile again, he didn’t care about the scars, he stuck a razor in his mouth and did that to himself. He… he did that to himself?

“And you know what? She can’t stand the sight of me! She leaves. Now I see the funny side... Now I’m always smiling.”

You blinked and the next thing you knew, punches were being thrown and men in clown masks were falling to the floor. Batman. The masked vigilante everyone was talking about. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, coming out of the shadows to beat up the bad guys. Reality struck you in that moment. This was real. This was happening. The word surreal doesn’t quite cover it. You wanted something different. Well, this was different. Instead of fear you started to feel something else rising up from inside of you, tingling up your back. Excitement.

A punch from a clown masked man landed square on Batman’s jaw, sending him to his knee and giving Joker the opportunity to start kicking him in the stomach. All you could do was watch, spellbound by the violence occurring before your eyes, wide with anticipation. It almost happened too fast for you to see. He really had nothing holding him back. He couldn’t care less about what people thought of him. Showing up in face paint and a purple suit with a posse of men disguised as scary clowns, commanding even more attention than Bruce. He basked in it, not caring one bit what they thought, only that he left an impression. He did. Especially on you.

You blinked again and he had Rachel. He stood behind her, his arm wrapped around her chest to keep her from running, his other hand waving a handgun in the air. He wasn’t going to drop the gun, not unless Batman took his mask off, show us all who he really was. Then the window behind him shattered with a shot from the gun and he dangled Rachel by her arm out into the open air. Your chest felt tight, as helpless as everyone else watching and unable to do anything about it. But you still couldn’t shake the thrill you felt buzzing in your arms and legs, fogging your mind.

“Let her go,” Batman’s hoarse voice demanded.

Joker squinted his eyes and grinned with ironic amusement as he answered, “Very poor choice of words.”

He let go. His laugh reached down to your bones and held on, pulling you toward him while Batman dove out the window after Rachel. You didn’t know what you were doing but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your feet kept carrying you closer. People all around you started rushing for the exit, running from the taunting men in clown masks like the crowd at a Halloween fun house. Except this was real.

You kept your eyes forward, getting within a few feet of him when he turned and saw you. A chill washed over you, both icy cold and burning hot at the same time when his eyes traveled up and down your body where you stopped in your tracks. Your skin felt like it was on fire.

“Hello, there,” he purred.

You opened your mouth to speak but no sound came out. You just stared at him. Then he started to saunter toward you, slowly closing the gap that separated you, and you almost couldn’t breathe.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a sideways grin. “Aren’t you a pretty little flower, hm?”

Your heart fluttered and your lungs pulled in a sudden gasp of air, that sharp smell filling up your senses. He was right in front of you now. He was right in front of you and you could undeniably feel the heat radiating off of him. Your heart pumped faster, the adrenaline in your veins saturating every tissue. That tingling in your spine came rushing back as his tongue flashed out of his mouth to run along his lip.

“Can I, uh, help you with something, little flower?”

The last sounds of panicked voices faded, and it was completely silent. You were alone. With him. Fear tried to wrestle for a place in the front of your mind, to pull you away, to make you run back toward the door, but the allure you felt was too pervading. You remained still, trying to steady your breath while the gaze from his black-rimmed eyes seemed to swallow you up. Sirens started to echo in the distance.

Then your voice found its way out of your mouth, “I… I just wanted to… um, to get closer.”

His eyebrows shot up and his grin widened as a low hum rumbled in his chest. Your brittle nerves nearly shattered when he lifted his hand and gently took hold of your chin, lifting it and stepping forward to press his chest against yours. “Mmm, this close enough?”

His gloves, they felt cool on your skin.

Taglist!

@youmaycallmebrian @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @jokersqueenofchaos @into-crazy @killingjokee @astheworlddturns

#ledger joker fic #ledger joker x reader #joker x you #Heath Ledger Joker #the dark knight #tdk joker #joker fanfiction #one shot #anon request

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today-only-happens-once · 4 years

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Scutum

Title: Scutum

Word Count: 9424

Summary: Sci-Fi AU. Roman sees the weapon first. The rest is just instinct. Found family. Platonic Logince, Platonic LAMP/CALM. Features Cartoon Therapy characters + Remy/Sleep.

Warnings: cursing (a lot woops); whump/angst/hurt/comfort; violence a la sci-fi/sci-fi weapons; science stuff that’s like 10% research and 90% made-up; sci-fi colonization stuff; passing mention of drunkenness; poison/being poisoned; feelings of guilt and misplaced blame and stuff like that; talk of death and dying; Elliot is briefly a little bit of a jerk but they’re anxious/traumatized and also kinda young so they’re doing their best; injury and blood; let me know if I forgot any.

A/N: Have some sci-fi escapist found family hurt/comfort. This took forever, wow. Several weeks and three drafts later and here we are. Glad it’s done! My huge, undying thanks to @creativenostalgiastuff for all of her help as my beta for this fic and answering my many, many questions and dealing with my general self-doubt. First time writing sci-fi. Would love to know what you think! <3

…

Captain Logan Sanders scrubs a hand underneath his glasses and leans his head back against the glass of the circular window. The metal of the spaceship—affectionately coined Foster by the ship’s medic, Patton Hart—creaks with a dull groan. The captain usually uses the window in the ship’s armory when he needs a moment alone, as its size allows Logan to comfortably lean up against the glass and look out into the “void of space”, as their pilot—Virgil Shea—tended to describe it.

Their relations officer and navigation coordinator, Roman Prince, usually hated looking too long at it. Logan had the feeling it made him feel lonely, or homesick. Maybe both.

Logan doesn’t mind it, though he also wouldn’t have necessarily called it a “void”. Billions of stars and the occasional swirl of color meant a certainty of life that existed out there. The universe is always teeming with it, and Logan finds a greater comfort from this distanced reminder than the crowded, bustling bazaars that Roman seemed to thrive in.

Logan hears the door swish open, his head swiveling over towards the sound. The light that floods into the room illuminates the dusty iron walls and the shelves of weapons—phasers and guns lined up beside one another, boxes of ammo on the shelf above—and Logan sees a familiar figure silhouetted against the light.

“Hey, Captain,” Kai Dwyer greets, unfazed by the sight of Logan sitting in the window.

“Kai,” he replies, pushing himself up to his feet off the window ledge. He grimaces slightly as he stretches his back, having forgotten how stiff the metal makes him when he sits too long.

Kai grabs a clipboard off the wall adjacent to the door. “Thought I’d do a quick inventory check before we dock.”

Logan frowns. “Are we close?”

“Virgil said we were still a few hours out. But I wanna be thorough. Make sure I know everything we need before get on planet.”

Logan inclines his head, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering stiffness before he crosses towards the door. “Acceptable. Carry on.”

Kai gives a small mock-salute. “Roger that, Cap’n.” The door slides shut behind Logan.

Foster is an old ship. Even to someone unfamiliar with the schematic, it’s evident in the grated flooring, the worn metal walls and beams that hold it together, the way the pressurizer hummed on occasion. Newer models tended to be sleeker, more streamlined, and generally brighter than the dark iron walls that adorned Foster’s interior.

Logan would never admit it—even to his own crew—but he trusted Foster more than he trusted other ships. Logically, he knew it was ridiculous. In the vast majority of cases, Logan believed that newer generally meant improved. But when it came to Foster, Logan had never even considered trading it in for a newer model. Instead, if something needed fixing on the ship, then Logan would consult Virgil and their engineer, Remy, to give Foster the needed updates. The ship was as much a part of the crew as any of the rest of them and it had gotten them through it’s fair share of close calls. As far as Logan was concerned, Foster had earned the loyalty of the crew.

But of course… that an inanimate object could earn loyalty didn’t make logical sense. So Logan kept that particular sentiment to himself.

Logan hears a familiar sound of the door swishing open down the short pathway and sees Roman duck out of his room. The relations officer is wearing his white and red armor suit, and Logan arcs an eyebrow when the officer meets his gaze.

“Hey, Specs.” Roman gives a small salute that echoes Kai’s a moment ago. Logan rolls his eyes.

“Greetings. Might I inquire as to why you’re wearing armor? My understanding is that we’re about to dock for a benign venture.” Logan pauses. “Unless you know something I don’t?”

“What? Oh.” Roman glances down at himself as if he’d forgotten what he was wearing. “Sorry to disappoint, Logan. Patton wanted to check the monitors in the suit, so I’m supposed to wear it around for a little bit. Make sure the readings are all right.” He bounces on the balls of his feet. “I’ve gotta say, Kai’s upgrades to the armor are pretty cool. Check this out.”

Roman stretches an arm out to his side, and Logan has barely registered that his palm has started to glow when something bright shoots out from it and Logan throws an arm up to protect his face.

A moment later, Logan lowers his arm to see a glowing hole through one wall of the ship. Through that hole, Logan sees the med bay and Patton staring out at them with wide, startled eyes. Picani is standing on the other side of the med bay, a ukulele in his hand, having just startled out of the chair he was sitting in. Logan clenches his jaw, turning a frustrated gaze at Roman before he hears the metallic clang of footsteps climbing up the ladder and the unmistakable voice of the ship’s primary engineer.

“Girl, you better not have busted a hole in my ship again!”

At the end of the hall, Remy García’s head pokes up with a glowering look as he pulls himself up onto the top layer of scaffolding. His dark goggles are pushed back into his hair, and he’s got streaks of grease smudged across his forehead and along his cheek.

“Your ship?” Logan asks, crossing his arms over his chest. His comment goes ignored as Remy stalks down the pathway and Roman starts stammering out either an apology or an excuse.

“You’re lucky you didn’t punch a hole straight through the outer shell or we’d all be dead.”

The intercom announces its presence with a familiar click and faint static before Virgil’s voice chimes through, echoing slightly off the metal walls. “Yeah, Remy and I might’ve fixed the damage from last week but we’d rather not test it while we’re floating through the great abyss of space.”

Roman’s holding his hands up in surrender. “It was an accident!” He glances through the hole in the wall. “Sorry, Patton. Sorry, doc!”

Patton waves. “It’s okay!” he calls from inside the med bay.

Picani chuckles and waves as well. “Nobody’s hurt!”

Remy sighs and looks to Logan. “That won’t be the cheapest fix, Cap, and we maxed on the budget for ship fixes last time we docked. That pirate gang did a number on Foster.”

Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Roman, it’s coming out of your pay.”

Roman opens his mouth as if to argue, then closes it before nodding. “No, yeah. That’s fair.”

Remy gives Roman one more glare before turning and heading back towards the ladder that descends to the lower deck. Logan is about to head to the bridge when he hears Roman say, “I mean… you gotta admit that was pretty cool.”

“I will admit no such thing,” Logan replies dryly as he heads in the opposite direction of Remy. “At some point, I’ll have peace and quiet on my ship again.”

“I wouldn’t be sure of that!” Roman calls after him brightly.

…

“We’re probably about 3 hours out from docking, Captain.”

Elliot—Virgil’s co-pilot—makes the announcement as the door to the ship’s bridge swishes open. The corner of Logan’s mouth quirks slightly, always impressed by Elliot’s ability to know who was coming through the door without looking. Anytime Logan asked them about it, they merely shrugged.

Foster’s bridge is relatively small. Green, red, and blue dots of lights cover both walls above a row of seats with harnesses for emergency cases. Each dot of light was information about how Foster was functioning, and Logan scans both walls quickly. Everything seemed to be operating efficiently.

“Understood,” Logan replies to Elliot.

A few feet past the emergency seats along the walls are the two pilot chairs, occupied by Virgil and Elliot. Virgil flips a small metal switch, then glances over his shoulder at Logan. Virgil had been the last person to join his team when Logan was first recruiting—Picani, Kai, and Elliot didn’t join until a few months ago. Logan had been uncertain when someone whose call sign was “Anxiety” responded to his flyer in search of a pilot. But word on the street had been that Virgil was the best of the best, and Logan was running low on potential candidates that measured up to his expectations.

Virgil had more than proved the rumors. Logan owed his life to him and his piloting skills more times than he cared to admit. The entire crew did.

“So why exactly are we docking in Vannaheim?” Virgil asks. “Not that I’m not, like, totally jazzed to be going to a planet that’s 99% desert.”

Logan crosses the short distance to stand between the two pilots chairs. “Vannaheim’s dune pattern is being impacted by gravity shifts that they can’t explain. We’re there to take some observations and perhaps help their scientists develop a solution.”

Elliot glances at Virgil, then snorts at the look on his face. “You’re just mad because you can’t wear your hoodie.”

Virgil points a finger at them. “I can, and I will.”

“You will do no such thing,” Logan interjects with a pointed look. “I will not have one of my best pilots suffer heat stroke.”

“It’s my aesthetic and I like to suffer.”

Logan shakes his head, looking out above the ship’s controls to the window that spanned in front of the pilot seats. It was a similar view to the one Logan had been enjoying a moment ago in the armory window, with the addition of Vannaheim in the distance—a small, red and orange planet that was approximately half the size of Earth. Hot and dry, but slightly higher oxygen levels than were present in Earth’s atmosphere.

Logan had been to Vannaheim six years ago when an old friend of his, Corbin Wright, had requested his help with developing vegetation alternatives given the arid biosphere of the planet. He’d been concerned at the potential ecological ramifications should they introduce flora and fauna that were not native to the planet. Instead, he and Corbin and a few other scientists spent a few weeks researching the native vegetation and fauna and determining what options were most compatible with human nutritional needs.

The effort had been met with some resistance from a minority of the colonists on the planet. They formed something of a resistance group—called themselves the ‘Retribution’, which Logan still thinks is a bit excessive—that started with some minor disagreement at community meetings, but quickly devolved into accusations that their ‘way of life’ was ‘under attack’. Which was ridiculous. Logan left as things continued to escalate, knowing that his presence on the planet was likely to only heighten the tensions. It was Logan’s original idea, after all.

When Corbin reached out about the gravitational shifts, he’d said tensions had remained after Logan left—even reaching moments when Corbin worried it would turn violent—but that things seemed to have mostly settled down in the recent weeks. Logan had asked if Corbin was sure that Logan returning wouldn’t have an adverse effect on the peace in the colony.

One way to find out, Corbin had replied dryly. Logan didn’t find it particularly comforting.

…

Two and a half hours later, Logan is passing by the med bay when the click through the ship’s intercom perks his ears.

“Heads up. We’re T-minus 27 minutes until we’ll be pulling into dock.” Elliot’s voice is distorted slightly by the static hum.

It clicks off in the same moment that the doors to the med bay swish open. Patton steps out, looking down at a chart that’s projected flatly from the gauntlet on his wrist. He glances up and smiles.

“Heya, Cap.”

Logan arcs an eyebrow. “Greetings. Everything satisfactory?” He inclines his head to the chart Patton had been looking at.

“What, this?” Patton glances back down. “Yeah. Just going over the charts from the new suit readouts. I was gonna have you try yours on before we docked, but Roman’s little… surprise earlier did some damage to the chest plate as I was downloading the software.” Patton laughs. “Kai said he can fix it, but not before we dock. I did manage to salvage your helmet, though. Ya have a minute?”

Logan follows Patton through the entryway into the med bay. Perhaps “med bay” was a bit of a gracious term for it. The room was relatively small, with two gatch beds fixed to one wall, and a variety of medical equipment and read-outs that Logan only vaguely understood how to use. The room was well-equipped for as small as it was, but Patton was also the only medical doctor on the ship.

On the left gatch bed, Logan sees black armor with blue accents—and the half-melted chestplate. It resembles, in style, to the white and red armor Roman had been wearing earlier.

“I updated the heartrate monitor display, plus the one for oxygen intake,” Patton is saying behind Logan as he minimizes the chart he’d been looking at and moves to a monitor on the far wall. “I also added a body temperature gauge and a toxin sensor since you can never be too careful, y’know?”

Logan nods, lifting the new helmet and inspecting it. The exterior of the helmet looks the same as before Logan had turned it over to be updated. A dark visor shields the face, the rest of it black with dark blue accents. It matches the damaged suit that sits in pieces on the gatch bed.

“Ya like it?” Patton asks. Logan looks over his shoulder at the doctor, who had stopped what he was doing on the monitor to look expectantly at the ship captain.

Logan glances back. “It appears to be the same helmet.”

Patton grins. “Looks that way. It’s cooler now, though. I also added in some ecological monitors. Simple stuff, at least for now. Atmosphere make up, surface temperature. Working on some other stuff, but that seems like enough for a prototype, don’tcha think?”

“I suppose it does make sense to limit variable additions when testing new technology.”

“Try the helmet on for me? Oh, and you should probably take your glasses off. Kai made sure the display will adjust for your vision.”

Logan obligingly slips the dark armor helmet over his head. He reaches up to his temple on the outside of the helmet and presses in. There’s a high-pitched blip and Logan’s vision goes from dark to a bright, staticky blue. Logan instinctively shuts his eyes against the blinding onslaught.

“Yikes!” Patton yelps, and Logan senses him suddenly standing beside him. A slight pressure on his left temple, a quiet blip, and Logan’s vision goes back to black. “I’m sorry, Logan. Not sure why that happened. I’ll have Kai take a look.”

Logan slips the helmet back off. “Not to worry, Patton. I’m confident in Kai’s engineering capabilities.”

Patton gingerly takes the helmet from Logan’s arms and sets it back on the gatch bed in front of them. “Yeah, but still. We were so close to all of you getting to try the new suits!”

Logan rakes his fingers through his hair to pull it back under control from its disheveled state. It was always a mess when he took his helmet off. He slips his glasses back onto his face. “Nevertheless. Roman and Elliot’s test runs on Vannaheim should still be adequate in assessing whether the new software you’ve developed will serve its functional purpose adequately.”

Patton gives Logan’s helmet a sad pat. “Yeah, you’re right. Well, thanks for giving it a shot, Cap! Good luck down there.”

“Your luck is unneeded, but appreciated. Thank you, Patton.”

…

The blast of arid heat stings Logan’s eyes slightly as Virgil lowers the ship’s docking track. Logan smiles politely at Corbin—slightly aged from the last time he saw him, but unmistakable regardless—and the two other individuals that stand with him. Roman and Elliot linger closely behind him as Logan descends the ramp and shakes Corbin’s hand.

“It’s good to see you, Logan,” Corbin greets with a faint smile. “Allow me to introduce you. This is my partner, Sloane. And this is Valerie.”

Logan shakes both of their hands, thinking idly that Sloane’s evident excitable energy rivaled that of Patton’s. Valerie has her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail, which isn’t necessarily a surprise given the heat. The orange and yellow sands stretch into rolling dunes in the distance, unheeded by the small colony network they’d docked in. A bright blue sky stretches above them, and Logan sees Elliot slip on a pair of sunglasses out of the corner of his eye. Roman squints and brings up a hand to shield his own vision.

“Rainwall’s gotten bigger,” Logan remarks as Corbin leads them from the dock and further into the colony.

The last time Logan had been here, it had barely been a few temporary settlement structures—really just glorified tents, in Logan’s humble opinion--cohesive enough to call a colony network but only barely. The structures look more permanent now, and there are certainly more of them. Pathways between them are not paved but are certainly worn enough with foot and vehicle traffic, and Logan is pleased to see that they put his prior suggestion of solar panels to use. The roofs of nearly every building—most of them white and domed structures of varying sizes—are covered with them.

There’s a gust of wind, kicking up the sand and dust at their feet. Logan turns his face into his shoulder to keep from inhaling. Roman coughs behind him. “Oh great,” he says with an air of drama that makes Logan roll his eyes. “This planet is going to ruin my hair.”

“You get used to it,” Valerie says.

“I definitely do not want to get used to it.”

The corner of Logan’s mouth quirks. “We could return to Dal’tera, Roman.”

“I thought we agreed to never speak of Dal’tera again.”

“You and Virgil agreed to never speak of what happened on Dal’tera again. I made no such promise.”

Although Logan doesn’t turn around, he can feel the way Elliot’s gaze flickers between Roman’s face and the back of his head. “What happened on Dal’tera?”

“It was four years ago—”

“Which is why we are leaving it in the past!” Roman cuts in insistently. “Unbelievable. The lack of trust. First, Kai disables the cool blaster-thingy on my suit, now my own captain is betraying my trust.”

The accusation is empty and with a certain familiar affection underlying the dramatics, but Logan holds his hands up in mock surrender regardless. “To Kai’s credit, you did damage the ship less than half an hour after having the technology made available to you,” he says, and Roman makes an affronted noise behind him.

“It was an accidental—”

Elliot interrupts him, sounding amused. “Did you just call it a blaster-thingy? Really?”

Logan glances over his shoulder in time to see Roman look down at his armored hand. “I don’t know the name for it.”

“It should be named something cool.”

“Yes, I agree. Perhaps we should come up with some options to run by Kai when we return.”

As they pass one of the vegetation fields, a pair of colonists wave at them from a distance. Logan sees Sloane wave enthusiastically in return out of the corner of his eye. Corbin lifts a hand in a more subdued greeting. A pair of children cut out between the buildings in front of them and barely dodge Logan and Corbin at the front of the group, shrieking with laughter. Behind him, Elliot and Roman chat about potential names for the new technology that Kai had inputted into the suit.

It’s a familiar thrum of background noise as they make their way through the settlement. The excitable chatter and increasingly ridiculous suggestions for naming technology makes Logan vaguely grateful that Kai tended to name his own tech rather than leave it to those two. Regardless, Logan is content to let them chatter away. Especially if it kept their attention occupied as they navigate through Rainwall.

As much as the colony had grown since Logan had last seen it, it doesn’t take them too long to reach the far end of the small town. They’re led to one of the white domed structures at the far end of the network of buildings and worn pathways. Corbin inputs a four-digit code into the keypad beside the door, and Logan hears a lock click before the door swishes open.

…

Logan feels the beanbag hit the back of his head for the fourth time and doesn’t even bother to turn around.

“Sorry, Captain!” Roman says, also for the fourth time.

Logan, Corbin, and Valerie had been pouring over data spreadsheets, charts, graphs, and notes regarding the anomaly in Vannaheim’s dune pattern for the past three hours. Roman and Elliot both had tried to assist for the first hour and a half, but while they were extremely bright and intelligent people in Logan’s opinion, neither were particularly practiced or well-versed in theoretical physics or planetology. Elliot’s understanding of piloting had been helpful briefly in identifying some smaller anomalies in the gravitational shifts in the planet’s atmosphere, but that was about the extent that their expertise could help.

The pod—as Sloane had been calling the one-room building they were in—was small and simple on the inside, but certainly functional. The couch and table towards the front of the pod had been pushed against the wall to make room for the game that Roman and Sloane had started with a beanbag that Sloane happened to have handy. Towards the back were several computers, and a few chairs. Corbin sits in one, scanning over the contents of the most recent read-out, and Valerie sits in the other. Logan stands and paces in the space between them and the game of beanbag. There were a few unpacked crates blocking part of the pathway, having previously housed brand-new computer parts.

Roman sheepishly jogs the short distance between himself and the beanbag at Logan’s feet, snatching it up. Logan opens his mouth to say something when Elliot cuts him off, sitting up a bit from where they’d been lounged against the couch.

“Did you guys hear that?”

Logan frowns, but it’s Valerie who speaks up, looking up from the tablet in her hands. “Hear what?”

But then they do hear it. It’s distant, but rapidly getting closer. Shouting. Someone screams. And—

“Was that phaser discharge?” Sloane asks, his face draining of color. Elliot scrambles to their feet, crossing towards Logan and further away from the door.

“Corbin, take Sloane and get out of here,” Logan says immediately. “Valerie, you too. Get somewhere safe.”

The shout is right outside the door. Corbin grabs for Sloane and yanks him back behind him as the door swishes open, fumbling to pull the phaser out of the holster at his belt.

Logan barely has time to register that the strangled cry from Roman is his name before he feels a weight slam into him, sending him crashing to the floor just as phasers go off. Logan doesn’t know who fired first, his ears ringing slightly and Roman, a heavy weight, on top of him.

“I knew he’d come back!” a new voice—grating and sharp and a little hysterical—shrieks. “I knew fucking Logan Sanders couldn’t keep his distance! You’ve ruined our way of life one too many times you fucking piece of—” Corbin fires his phaser, a streak of green light slamming into the figure’s chest. Even through the chaos, Logan can see the switch set to stun.

“Roman,” Logan grunts as he shoves his relations officer off of him, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Roman rolls off him with a tight grimace, an arm wrapped around himself. He doesn’t answer and he doesn’t sit up, and it’s only then that Logan sees the skin of Roman’s waist—a sickly green and black—exposed between his fingers and broken armor.

Logan’s mind kicks into overdrive, the shouting between Corbin, Valerie, Elliot and the intruders overlapping with exchanges of phaser fire fading into background noise.

Logan goes to reach for his comm at his belt before he realizes that it’s been shattered into pieces. Parts of it are melted, apparently having taken some phaser damage. Unusable. Logan changes tactics immediately, pulling the identical equipment piece off Roman’s shoulder and clicks in.

“Foster Crew,” Logan says, clipped and urgent. “Come in. We have a Code Black. Repeat: Code Black. We need immediate assistance.”

“Fucking shit,” is Virgil’s instant response, muffled from static. “What’s your location?”

Logan looks to Elliot on his left, who is staring at Roman with wide eyes having heard the call go through the comms. “Elliot,” Logan says. “Send our location.”

They blink quickly and nod, pressing a button on the gauntlet on their armor before firing another round of their phaser. It cracks against the wall. Elliot ducks back behind the create as the corner of it splinters into shards with a ricocheting crack.

Logan reaches for the wound on Roman’s waist, but Roman won’t move his hands. He’s pale, already with a thin sheen of sweat, and when his eyes flutter open, Logan doesn’t miss the glassy look in them, nor the way that they don’t seem to focus.

“Roman. Hey.” Logan taps his face, then pulls Roman’s hands away. “Look here.”

“Cap?” Roman’s voice is distant. Hazy. Confused.

When Logan yanks Roman’s hands away so that he can better assess damage, Roman makes a noise in the back of his throat that doesn’t sound fully human.

Logan doesn’t respond. The wound isn’t just phaser damage, from the little Logan can see. Phasers didn’t generally turn skin into that green-black mottled mess. There appears to be several tiny puncture wounds. Toxin, Logan thinks, and reaches for Roman’s comm again. He helps Roman sit up and lean against the crate behind him.

“Patton. Come in, Patton.”

Corbin is shouting something from where he’s taken cover against the wall on the opposite side to Logan’s left. He fires twice more.

“Roman’s vitals are all over the place,” Patton answers without having to ask what Logan needed to know. “Toxin levels are elevated and climbing. What’s happening down there?”

“Virgil, what’s your ETA?” Logan says instead of answering. He’s on autopilot, his mind racing. He can barely keep up with his own thoughts. Flashes of green phaser fire streak overhead and leave scorch marks on the white walls of the pod.

“Two minutes but it looks like you guys are pinned down. We’ll do what we can. Might be two and a half before you guys can get out.”

“Is anyone else hurt?” Logan asks to the open air.

“Not yet,” Corbin replies, ducking as another round of phaser fire hits overhead. “They’re Retribution though. No mistaking that.” He aims again, fires a few more rounds. Logan hears something heavy slump to the ground. Roman grunts and leans his head back against the crate he’s propped up against. His breathing is fast and shallow.

Despite himself, Roman gives Logan a pained smile. “I got pretty good reflexes, huh?”

“This situation hardly classifies as a testament to your reflex speed.”

“Virgil always said….” Roman grimaces. Shudders. Tries again. “Virge always said he was fastest but I could give ‘im a…. a run for his money.”

Logan frowns. “Your speech is slurring.”

“Sorry.”

Roman starts saying something about the last time he was drunk—Logan was there; they’d been celebrating Virgil’s birthday—but Logan has mostly tuned him out. His mind is still spinning. Toxin-equipped phasers were new technology to Logan. He’d heard there was potential for it, but he hadn’t looked much into the tech or its development. For it to be possible, then they’d need access to existing natural toxins. Synthetic ones wouldn’t pair as well with the phaser tech and would risk overloading or overheating the weapons. What natural toxins existed on Vannaheim?

More than one, from Logan’s memory. It had been a subsection of his research when looking into native vegetation options from the planet six years ago.

“Logan? Come in. Logan?” Patton’s voice over the comms not only interrupts Logan’s sprinting thoughts, but also causes Roman to cut off his slurred, barely coherent speech.

Logan grabs the device. “Here.”

“Roman’s getting worse. I think he’s panicking, ‘cuz his heartrate is through the roof, but that could also be the toxin. Do you know what it was?”

“I don’t. If I were to guess, based on the damage and situational factors, I’d probably assume it was a hemotoxin or necrotoxin but without more information or the ability to run tests, I cannot be certain.”

Virgil’s voice cuts into the conversation. “T-minus one minute.” Even distorted from the static, Virgil’s voice sounds strained in its own right. “Fuck, I’m going as fast as I can, Logan. Tell Princey he’s not allowed to die before I have the chance to kill him myself for being an idiot.”

Roman scoffs, but it’s weak and pained and sounds a lot more like a cough. “An idiot?” he demands incredulously.

“Message received,” Logan says dryly before setting the comm down. “Roman, take a deep breath.”

Roman sucks in a breath—shaking and thin—and winces. “Ow. Shit.” Roman’s arm wraps around his torso and he tosses a shaky smile to Logan. “I can’t believe I’m really gonna die having never beaten you at chess.”

It’s Elliot that answers him first, their voice tight and strangled and desperate. “You’re not going to die.”

“You’re not going to beat me at chess,” Logan adds. He can still hear shouting outside the pod. Roman gives a breathy laugh before his eyes unfocus again, blinking owlishly. Logan sets a firm, grounding hand on his shoulder. “Focus. Roman, tell me five things you can see.”

“Tell me five things you can see.” Roman blinks hard, then looks around uncomprehendingly. “Where… am I?”

“Vannaheim,” Logan replies smoothly despite the way his chest clenches. He cannot panic. Logan takes a breath.

Roman makes a face. “I hate Vannaheim.”

“Because the wind messes up your hair. Yes, you’ve told me.”

The door swishes open and Logan grabs Roman’s phaser from its holster and fires a shot. It cracks against the wall of the pod slightly to the left of the intruder. Logan had left his phaser on the ship. An oversight on his part. Deal with it later, Logan tells himself firmly.

“A prince has got to slay,” Roman says, his words slurred. He takes a breath that seems to tangle in his lungs, and wheezes out a cough.

“You’re wearing a uniformed suit of armor,” Logan finds himself saying. Wasn’t enough to protect him, something hisses in Logan’s mind. Logan shakes his head quickly. He’d deal with that thought later. “If you’re that worried about your appearance, wear the helmet.”

Logan estimates that it’s been about twenty seconds since his last communication with Virgil and Patton. They hear the door swish open. Valerie fires. There’s a startled cry and the door closes.

“I like the—” Roman cuts himself off with a clench to his teeth, his body visibly shuddering. He curls around himself, his head nearly pitching straight into Logan’s chest. The captain catches Roman’s shoulders, holding him steady until the trembling is back to a more manageable level a second later. He guides Roman to sit back again.

Roman’s head leans back to thump gently against the crate, his brow pinched. “Logan… you’re shaking.”

“Falsehood,” Logan replies distractedly, trying to tune in to the conversation Corbin and Valerie are having on the opposite side of the small pod given the lull in combatants. They can still hear the fight raging outside. Someone screams. Pounding footsteps.

Sloane is typing frantically into one of the computers. A second later, there’s a click by the door. “Doors are locked. Should at least slow them down,” he says.

Corbin glances back at Logan, his chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath. His jaw sets when his eyes flicker to Roman slumped against the crate.

“You’ve gotta get out of here,” he says. “Valerie and I will cover you. As soon as Anxiety gets here, make a break for it. They’re not here for a war. They’re here for you.”

Logan opens his mouth to reply but Roman’s strained, slurred speech interrupts him. “Logan… give m’ th’ phaser.”

“Why?”

Roman’s brow furrows together like he thinks the answer should be obvious. “Figured I’d take a few of ‘em down with me while… while you two…” He grimaces again, but Logan gets the picture.

“No.”

Roman levels a look that would be a glare if his eyes would stay focused on Logan. “Be logical, Captain.”

Logan doesn’t deign the challenge with a response. He just stares at Roman—the sheen of sweat, the shallow and rapid breath, the way Roman can’t seem to support the weight of his own head—and then looks back at Corbin. “If we flee and they’re here for me, it’s not impossible that they’ll give chase.”

“We’ll ground as many as we can,” Valerie says, quickly adjusting some calibration on the phaser in her hand.

“Captain,” Roman insists, but Logan ignores him.

“Virgil will just have to shake the rest,” Logan says grimly.

“T-minus five seconds. Incoming.” Virgil’s cracked, staticky voice breaks through the comms on Elliot’s and Roman’s shoulder.

“Speak of the devil.”

“Let’s move,” Logan says, crossing back to Roman.

He figures that offering a hand to help Roman stand up wouldn’t be enough support, given that Roman seemed barely capable of holding up his own head. A fireman’s carry? Seemed excessive, at least for the time being. Perhaps Logan would default to that should Roman lose consciousness.

“’m gonna slow y’ down.” Roman’s voice is quiet, and it takes Logan a moment to decipher what he said given the way the words run together.

Logan crouches down and takes Roman’s arm, wrapping it around his shoulders and bracing one hand against Roman’s armored chestplate. “Think you can stand up?”

“Not lis’ning.”

“Answer the question, Roman.”

Roman swallows. Shudders. His arm tightens around his waist. “Yeah.”

“Three. Two. One. Up.” Logan stands, bracing most of Roman’s weight into his side. Roman nearly pitches into the floor, but he manages to get his legs underneath him and though Logan can feel him shaking with the exertion of effort, Roman is standing.

Progress.

“I’ll wait to unlock the door until you guys are right in front of it,” Sloane says and if there’s a bit of strain to his voice—if he casts a long glance at Corbin—well, Logan doesn’t say anything about it.

“Logan,” Roman says. “Lemme… lemme st…” Roman spasms, and nearly pitches right out of Logan’s grip. His hand on Roman’s chest is the only thing that keeps Roman from tumbling to the floor.

Logan goes to take a step with him—he can see black bleeding up through Roman’s neck like spilled ink and it tightens something in his chest—but Roman doesn’t move. Logan gives Roman a sharp look, opens his mouth to explain that they didn’t have time to waste, but there’s something fiery and bold beneath the haze of pain and poison that clouds his gaze.

“’m not worth—”

“It’s not your decision!” Logan cuts him off sharply. Furious. His gut twists against what he knows was the rest of Roman’s sentence. Roman releases a breath that would sound annoyed if there wasn’t a bit of a hitch to it.

“Doors opening in three. Two. One.”

Corbin and Valerie duck out first, and it’s a mess of dust and wind as Foster’s engine roars overhead, touching down as close as it reasonably can. Logan hears the reverberating pops of phaser fire exchanged somewhere in the cloud of dust. Streaks of green light criss-crossing in the sand-clogged cloud around them. Corbin yells for them to go. Elliot fires off a few shots of their own, sticking close to the two of them to fill in the gaps of phaser coverage left between Corbin and Valerie.

They run.

Or, as best as they can manage. It’s barely a loose jog, really, with Logan having to support most of Roman’s weight. But Roman manages to put one foot in front of the other and from his strangled breathing and how hard he’s shaking, Logan knows it’s about all Roman can manage to do.

Logan estimates that the distance between the pod and Foster is about a hundred or so meters. At the rate they’re moving, it should take them about twenty seconds to reach the docking ramp that Virgil lowers as soon as they touch down. Maybe less than that, if they can push the pace a bit more.

It takes ten seconds before Logan feels bright heat rip through his upper right bicep. Warm liquid spills down his arm.

“Captain!” Elliot yells, alarmed, over the chaos.

“I’m fine,” Logan grits out. “Go! Go!”

Patton meets them on the docking ramp, his eyes wide, and takes Roman’s other side to help Logan get him the rest of the way up. Elliot fires their phaser twice more as the ramp closes before ripping their comm unit off and calling into it.

“Virgil, punch it. We’re gonna have tails.”

“Fuck. Everyone accounted for?”

Logan grabs Roman’s comm. “Affirmative. Get us out of here.” Logan braces himself, and Roman, for the shift as Virgil lifts them off and takes off.

Roman sways.

Patton reaches for his wound. “Ro—”

The navigations officer collapses. Logan grunts as he and Patton both catch him before he crumples entirely, the effort tearing at the wound in Logan’s arm. Bright, hot pain ripples down his arm and up through his shoulder. Logan clenches his teeth against the sharp cry that tries to tear up his throat.

“Roman!” Elliot steps forward, but Logan holds up a hand, trying to get his breathing back under control from the fresh wave of pain.

“No, Elliot. Pilot with Virgil.”

“But I want to help!”

His arm is throbbing and Logan glances down at it, noting with a certain level of detachment that it just looks like a normal graze. No sign of toxin damage. “Help Virgil,” Logan tells them firmly, leveling a steady gaze that leaves no room for argument.

Elliot’s expression darkens before they turn and head towards the cockpit.

“I gotta get Roman to med bay,” Patton says quietly. “And get you patched up too.”

“I’m fine,” Logan says, helping Patton hoist Roman up from his half-collapsed state on the floor. “Just a graze.”

“But still.”

“It’ll heal, Patton.”

“Logan.”

Logan’s jaw snaps shut. He gives a single, stiff nod in return.

…

The next several minutes are frantic.

Patton and Logan carry Roman to the medical bay and Patton immediately pries Roman’s suit off him to get a closer look. It’s a flurry of movement as he hooks Roman up to various machines to read off information about his vitals, extracting some of the toxin from his system so Patton can run different tests on it separate from Roman’s body, all of which is made more challenging by the frequent shift in g-force as Virgil and Elliot try to lose the ships that had followed them off Vannaheim.

Logan is still on autopilot. He doesn’t stop moving. Logan helps Patton as much as he can, and it’s not until Patton is very gently helping Logan into chair to bandage his wounded arm after Roman has been fully equipped that Logan realizes the warm liquid that he’d felt down his arm was his own blood. Logan stares at Roman on the gatch bed with numb detachment and lets Patton clean and wrap the wound in his arm. It’s while Patton is tying the knot on the bandage wrapped around Logan’s bicep that Virgil clicks on over the intercom.

“I think we’ve shaken the last of them. Status update on Princey?”

Logan and Patton exchange a glance. Patton offers a sad smile and slight lift to his shoulders. Logan stands from the chair and walks to the intercom on the wall. He presses the button, waiting for the click before he speaks.

“No change. Did we take any damage?”

It’s Remy’s voice that answers him. “She’ll hold together, but Foster’s warp drive is out of commission until we can dock and I get some parts. What the hell was that all about?”

Logan swallows and leans his head against the wall for a moment. A damaged warp drive meant that getting to the next planet would take a bit longer than originally planned. He glances over at Patton, whose lips press into a grim line. Logan swallows before he answers over the intercom. “It appears that some prior work I did on that planet in an effort of sustainability warranted a minority of individuals harboring some… hostility.”

Behind him, Patton is peering at the monitors with Roman’s vitals. “Seems like more than just some hostility.”

“And we’re sure Wright is gonna be fine down there?” Virgil asks.

“Reasonably,” Logan replies. “Their hostility was directed predominantly at me.”

“And yet Roman—oh, wait. Hey, Cap, you might wanna come up here. We’ve got a message inbound from Vannaheim.”

Logan sighs. “I’ll be right there.”

Logan isn’t sure what to expect. He can’t fairly say that he is surprised. It made sense that they would attempt contact, especially given that they had successfully evaded their trail. And expecting the message to wait certainly wouldn’t have made sense—they’d be out of signal range within a few minutes. Logan considers, briefly, letting the message go unanswered. But there couldn’t be any harm in talking, right? Perhaps Logan could even appease them enough to quell some of the hostile action that could—had, did—put innocent people in harm’s way.

His arm throbs. Logan looks over his shoulder at Roman, prone on the gatch bed. Pale, except for the side that got hit being a smattering of mottled green and black. The black bleeds in curling tendrils across his chest, up his shoulder, his neck.

Patton catches him staring and gives him another one of those sad smiles. “I’m doing what I can for him, Captain.”

Logan swallows and nods. He squeezes Patton’s shoulder on his way out.

He tries very hard to not look at the hole through the wall that Roman had blasted earlier today. Instead, he focuses on the weight of his measured, calculated footsteps against the grated scaffolding. The very faint and yet oddly familiar, comforting scent of iron that lingered on the inside of the ship despite Patton’s best attempts to fix it. He counts in his head how many steps it takes from the door of the med bay to the cockpit.

The answer is eighteen.

The door swishes open and Virgil cranes his neck around. Elliot doesn’t even show signs of having heard the door opened at all.

“Ready, Captain?” Virgil asks, his finger poised over one of the buttons in front of him.

Logan steadies a hand on the back of Virgil’s chair and nods. “Yes.”

The screen in front of them blips on and Logan stares in surprise as Corbin, Sloane, and Valerie’s faces fill the frame. “Hey, they made it!” Sloane says brightly. Logan can still feel tension pulling his shoulders taught.

“Barely,” Elliot says, so quietly Logan almost doesn’t hear it. Logan sees Virgil glance at them, his brow furrowing.

“How’s Roman doing?” Valerie asks.

“We’re working on it,” Logan says.

“You mean Patton’s working on it,” Elliot cuts in.

“Yes,” Logan acquiesces. “I do mean that. Our ship’s medic, Patton Hart, is doing what he can. How are things there?”

“Our earlier assumptions proved accurate,” Corbin replies with a shrug. “They followed you. The ones that didn’t were angry, but hostility tapered off once they realized they were outnumbered and that you were gone.”

“I apologize for bringing you under some fire. That wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s not like you could’ve known,” Sloane says with a dismissal wave.

“We’re about to lose signal,” Virgil says quietly.

“Hey, keep us updated about Roman, will you?” Corbin asks.

Sloane and Valerie both nod. “We’re just as worried about him as you are!”

Elliot mutters something under their breath that Logan doesn’t quite catch, but from the suddenly furious look Virgil shoots them, perhaps it was better that he didn’t. Logan assures them that they will let them know as soon as there’s any change to report. Virgil cuts the feed and flexes his grip around the ship’s controls.

“What the hell was that?” Virgil demands suddenly. For a moment, Logan frowns in confusion before he realizes that the question was meant for Elliot and not himself.

“Forget it,” Elliot replies with a quick glance to Logan.

“Bullshit,” Virgil shoots back. His grip on the controls look too tight to be comfortable. “You’re not good with confrontation. Fine. But you don’t get to sit there and make passive-aggressive jabs at our captain after the shit-show we just dealt with. One that he got you out of, I might add. What’s wrong with you?”

“Okay—” Logan says, placatingly, but Elliot interrupts him.

“What’s wrong with me?” they demand, waving a hand towards Logan. “What’s wrong with him? He doesn’t seem phased in the slightest! Roman was shot trying to protect him and he just acted like he didn’t care—”

“Because that’s his fucking job!” Virgil turns a glowering look onto Elliot.

“Virgil,” Logan tries, bewildered at the argument, but they both seem to have forgotten that Logan is even there.

Virgil continues, tearing his gaze back to the stars stretching in front of them. “He’s the Captain, Elliot. It’s his job to make sure shit gets done, and that is especially true when one of us gets hurt. Logan doesn’t fall apart during a crisis but don’t you dare suggest that means he doesn’t fucking care.”

Elliot is silent. Logan doesn’t know what—if anything—he should say. Virgil heaves a sigh and rakes a hand through his long bangs. “I mean, shit. Look, I know today has been a lot. The past two hours have been a lot. And you haven’t been with us very long. But if you don’t know anything about our Captain, know this: Logan speaks how he cares in his actions. All you have to do is pay attention.”

Logan blinks. He forgot sometimes how closely Virgil watched other people, including himself. He’d noticed it in the beginning when Virgil had first joined, but Virgil had mostly dismissed it and said it was an “anxiety thing”. Logan didn’t know that he believed that, but over time, Virgil’s steady, watchful gaze had become less unsettling and more comforting. Until Logan forgot entirely just how much Virgil paid attention to the people around him.

Elliot sighs. They don’t look up, but Logan hears their words regardless. “I’m sorry, Captain. I was… unfair.”

“It’s understandable,” Logan replies, surprised at being suddenly addressed. His mind is still reeling. Too full of information that is racing through his mind to fully process the argument that just ensued. “Take a breath, Elliot. Get some rest.”

“I…” Elliot looks like they want to argue, but they seem to change their mind. They stand up and look to Virgil. “Are… you good?”

Virgil glances at them, and something softens in his expression. “Yeah, kid. I’m good here.”

Elliot nods absently, then disappears through the cockpit doors. Virgil glances over his shoulder at Logan. “You should get some rest too, Captain.”

“I’m fine.”

Virgil sighs. He doesn’t press him.

…

Days go by. Patton manages to get Roman to stable vitals and Logan thinks he can hear the collective sigh of relief across the ship when the announcement comes over the staticky intercom. But Roman doesn’t wake up, and Patton tells them that he isn’t sure when—or if—it’ll happen. Logan spends most of these days in the med bay, doing what he can with his scientific knowledge to assist Patton’s tests on the toxin. Kai joins them for short periods of time, putting his knowledge of weapons and tech to some use in the long hours.

They manage to come up with an antidote somewhere around what would be a little past two in the morning Earth-time of the second day. It cleanses Roman’s system of the poison, but damage had been done. It was difficult to ascertain exactly how much.

Logan doesn’t sleep much. He thinks Patton notices, but whenever the doctor tries to bring it up, Logan shrugs him off. His usually rigid circadian schedule had been disrupted by bad dreams that echo with Sloane’s pale face and Elliot’s shaking hands and Roman’s strained words. The last words he’d gotten out. I’m not worth—and every time, Logan wakes up before Roman can finish the thought. So Logan gets enough sleep to function, and he spends the rest of his time in the med bay and around the ship making himself useful.

All the crew find time to stop in on occasion as the days press forward. Virgil and Elliot take shifts. Picani makes sure that Patton and Logan are eating, and sometimes sits and talks to Roman’s unconscious form. Patton does that too—talk to him. Whenever he gives Logan an update with a new chart read out, he speaks as if Roman can hear him.

When Logan eventually asks him about it—if he thinks Roman can hear them—Patton lifts a shoulder and replies, “I don’t know. I hope so. And it helps me to talk to him anyway, y’know?”

Logan tries it when Patton goes to bed that night. He sits in the chair that Remy had grabbed and set beside Roman earlier that day and listens to the way the silence of the ship at this hour seems to echo against the old metal walls and bracing. Foster had been quieter in general in the past several days. Less laughter. Less teasing. Less… vibrant.

“That’s your fault, you know,” Logan says quietly, looking at Roman. “As much as I always complain about your insufferable noise level, I’ll admit I had grown… accustomed to it.”

Roman’s face is still startlingly pale, but it had lost the sickly sheen of sweat. He breathes evenly. Regularly. Logan listens to it for a moment, grateful that it at least wasn’t the shaking, shallow wheezes it had been on Vannaheim. The black-and-green stain on Roman’s skin had mostly faded. He’d have a scar, Patton said, on his waist where the initial hit happened. But the rest of it should go back to normal in a day or two.

“Now the quiet just seems…” Logan sighs. He listens again as the ship groans. “It seems heavy. Though you’d probably mock me for the use of the chremamorphism. Ordinarily, I’d qualify it with literal or figurative, as I know that silence cannot carry a physical weight, but…” Logan breaks off. It feels like a literal weight, hanging over the ship like a fog and darkening the iron walls. Weighing on the shoulders of those who move within the space.

Logan sighs. Scrubs a hand across his eyes under his glasses with exhaustion. “There’s something that has been bothering me, Roman. Something that I need to say to you.”

Logan leans forward. Bows his head. “You tried to tell me that you weren’t worth the risk of getting you to safety. Which is, honestly, bullshit. I don’t leave my people behind, Roman. You, of all people, should know that. And you… you shouldn’t have taken that shot. That was meant for me.”

Logan wonders, now that he’s said it aloud, if the weight on his shoulders from the silence is really the weight of his own guilt. Poised over his head like a pendulum on the verge of snapping.

Bearing Roman’s weight on Vannaheim had not felt this heavy. Logan realizes suddenly that his hands are shaking. He clasps them together in front of him between his knees.

“I’m the Captain,” Logan says. “It’s my job to keep you all safe, and I let you down. That’s on me. And… I am sorry, Roman. I am sorry for my shortcomings as a leader and as a friend. Because if you felt unworthy of being saved, I’m afraid I have failed in both responsibilities.”

A voice from the door to the med bay startles Logan. “It isn’t your fault, L.”

Logan looks over his shoulder towards the sound and finds Virgil leaning against the entry way. Logan blinks in surprise. He hadn’t even heard the doors open. Virgil just watches him with a quiet, unwavering gaze, even if there’s something a little softer in his eyes than Logan is used to seeing.

“Virgil,” Logan greets, pushing his glasses further up his nose and standing. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Virgil shrugs a shoulder, glancing to Roman. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d check in on Princey.” He pauses, his gaze flickering back to Logan. “And you, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“He doesn’t blame you for what happened,” Virgil says, stepping further into the medical bay and letting the doors swish shut behind him. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his purple plaid-patched hoodie.

Logan shakes his head. “But I do. I should have been more vigilant.”

“Weren’t you the one who taught me that dealing with ‘I should have’ is a dangerous and unproductive thought pattern?”

Logan hesitates. He can’t argue with that. He remembers the conversation from years ago. “Roman shouldn’t have been put into that situation.”

“He did it to protect you.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“But—”

“Logan,” Virgil cuts in, tossing his hands up in exasperation, “All of us? On this ship? We’re a family. You didn’t ask for that, but it happened. You are not the only one who cares about other people on this ship.”

“I know that.”

“Then know that any one of us would do what Roman would do if meant protecting you. We look out for each other.” Behind him, the door swishes open again but Virgil doesn’t even turn around. “We protect one another. All of us. You protect us, we protect you. That’s how this shit works.”

Patton steps into the med bay in a cat onesie. His pajamas. He pads quietly into the room, tugging the hood off his head. “Virgil’s right, Cap. We’re a family here. Like it or lump it.”

“And while this may be your ship,” Virgil says as Patton crosses to the monitors on the wall. “We don’t plan to go anywhere any time soon. You’re stuck with us.”

Despite himself, Logan cracks a faint smile.

“Yeah,” croaks a voice from the gatch bed that makes Logan whirl around. “Couldn’t get rid of us if ya tried, Cap.”

Roman’s eyes are open and glinting with something that Logan can’t quite decipher in the dark. Amusement, but something softer too. Patton gasps and rushes over, helping Roman sit up a bit more and grabbing the glass of water with a straw that he’d been refreshing each day for this very event. Roman takes a grateful sip and leans his head against Patton in silent gratitude. Patton smooths his hair with a gentle pat before helping Roman lean back in the bed again.

“How do you feel?” Virgil asks.

“Like I was shot.”

Virgil snorts.

Patton asks him a series of questions that are a bit more pointed—“Any dizziness, Roman? Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are? Are you feeling nauseous?”—and adjusts some of the machines to accommodate for an awake patient. Roman is a bit slow with his answers, and a bit slower still for the orienting ones, but he answers them accurately and cracks a few jokes in the meantime, and Logan just watches, feeling some of the tightness in his chest ease a bit.

When Patton makes a joke and the ship hears Roman’s laughter for the first time in almost a week, Logan thinks maybe he’ll finally be able to sleep through the night.

...

Tags: @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @quoth-the-sparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @unikornavenger, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @finger-gunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34, @gaylotusthatexists, @analogical-mess, @dolphidragon, @flix-net, @narniasfinestavengingsociopath, @friedlieb-ferdinand-runge, @bibbidy-bobbity-booyah, @procrastinations-my-middle-name, @theburntesttoast, @monroig, @secretlyawyvern, @puddinglec4t

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #lamp/calm #logan sanders #sanders sides fanfic #sci-fi au #violence tw #cursing tw #heed warnings #blood tw #injury tw #hurt/comfort #angst #whump #let me know if other warnings should be in the tags themselves too!#kjfksdjfksdlfj #hope it turned out okay

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veilingofthesun · 3 years

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14, 20, 26, 41 for the musical asks 🙂

Thank you for asking! Here we go....

14. A musical you would love to see produced by Deaf West?

Ohh, I already know this one! Matilda the Musical, definitely. I think it would work so well. Matilda is this little girl who's ignored and bullied by her parents. A deaf or hard of hearing Matilda Wormwood whose parents never bothered to learn sign language because they doesn't care about their daughter, it just works. Matilda has taught herself some sign language from the books she's borrowed from the library and she and Mrs Phelps can communicate a bit. Then she starts school, meets Miss Honey (who knows sign language and teaches Matilda and all of classmates how to sign) It would have such an impact. I'm getting emotional just thinking about it.

20. Express some love for understudies and swings!

I actually haven't been able to see a lot of understudies and swings perform. I find it easier to talk about people I have actually seen. But I always like an excuse to talk about the amazing Sara Lehmann so... Sara is one of the best performers, both acting, singing and dancing wise, I've ever seen. It's a crime she's not been given a lead role and more featured roles. She's a real team player though... I wish so much I could have seen her perform in some of her understudy roles, for example as Leading player in Pippin (she actually got to go on once) and Mrs Wormwood in Matilda. After seeing her as Anne in If/Then, I actually said that I'd love to see her as leading player.

There's a lot of fantastic Swedish ensemble performers that has understudied a lot of roles, but hardly ever got to go on, because we usually have quite short runs.

My favourite understudy performance is when Christopher Wollter went on as Daniel in Så som i himmelen. When I first saw ssih, I knew that he would be perfect for that role. It was so emotional seeing him play that part.

Quick mentions to other understudies I would have loved to see: Åsa Sjöblom as Eponine in Les Mis and Lena in ssih, Kerstin Hillden as Miss Honey in Matilda and Belle in Beauty and the beast, Nikola Stankovic as Rudolpho in Matilda, Karolin Funke as Billy's mom in Billy Elliot.

26. Best on stage chemistry?

Hmm, I can't just pick one. I'l try to limit myself to a few, I could go on for ages though. Jennifer Damiano and Adam Chanler Berat in Next to Normal, Alice Ripley and J. Robert Spencer/Brian D'Arcy James in Next to Normal, all the mains in If/Then in their various constellations (both obc and the Swedish production) , all the Matildas and Miss Honeys I've seen in Matilda the Musical, Linda Olsson and Marianne M��rck as Miss Honey and Mrs Phelps in Matilda the Musical, Linda Olsson and Karolin Funke in everything they've done together. (I've only seen them together in two productions, but their friendship and connection just shines through) and Philip Jalmelid and Tuva B. Larsen in Så som i himmelen. I could say lots more, but I feel like I should stop now.

41. What are some lines from musicals you really like?

How could it make any difference? How could it matter at all? How do I make such a major event of something so small?

You learn somehow to like the dark and even love the dark

And you find some way to survive and you find out you don't have to be happy at all to be happy you're alive

Maybe we can't be okay but maybe we're tough and we'll try anyway. We'll live with what's real. Let go of what's passed and maybe I'll see you at last.

I don't need a life that's normal, that's way too far away. But something next to normal would be okay.

Quiet.... Like silence, but not really silent. Just that still sort of quiet. Like the sound of a page being turned in a book, or a pause in a walk in the woods.

When I grow up, I will be brave enough to fight the creatures that you have to fight beneath the bed each night to be a grown up.

Patience, my love, time is on our side. Even time loves us. But time is the one thing no one is master of.

I can't really explain it, I haven't got the words. It's a feeling that you can't control. I suppose it's like forgetting, losing who you are. But at the same time, something makes you whole.

I varje hjärta finns en dröm, varje själ har sin. Jag ska finna längtan på den vägen som är min.

I natt ska en stjärna tändas, den ska skina klart. Den lyser dig väg, en gång ska vi mötas åter. Beskyddet av en ängel som står vakt, det vet du att jag har. Jag vill att du ska minnas vad jag sagt. Jag är i gott bevar.

#musicals #asks #askyfullofcomets

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myhusbandsasemni · 3 years

Text

Rescuing Ash - Underground Hero: Part 2

Part one here

Idea generated as a continuation of @morallygreyprompts writing Here

Whump warning: General description of injuries from torture

WC: 2119

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

Underground was more nervous for this mission than he had ever been before. He knew Eldar by reputation and had once prayed that he would never have to face him. It was quite funny that Underground was willingly going up against a man he had once feared. He was even fairly certain that the plan would work. Yes, he was nervous, but not for his own sake. He was nervous about seeing the true state that Ash would be in.

Underground silently watched Justin walk down the road after getting out of his car. The villain looked to be alone, but that was because Underground, Andrew, and Elliot were hiding. Underground didn’t know where the other two heroes were in the tangle of buildings and trees, but all he would have to do was ask Foxfire and she’d let him know. Speaking of which.

|Eldar is here,| the blue blob said from where she was wrapped around his chest. Well, she didn’t really speak. It was more like sending vibrations through your body so they would echo in your ear and say the words she wanted you to hear. It was quite like having someone speaking to you from inside your own head.

Underground reached up to his mask, muting it so his voice wouldn’t be thrown outside the material covering his face. “How many men does he have with him?” Underground asked as he prowled through the trees on silent feet.

|I’m counting 12.|

“We can take twelve.”

|We can, but this is about saving Ash,| Foxfire replied, somehow giving the impression of scrolling through camera feeds as she spoke.

“Of course,” Underground said seriously. “No way am I losing sight of that, love.”

Foxfire burbled in her form of a giggle. |Alright. If you approach from around that lamp there,| she said, circling the post on the screen inside the mask, |And then go to the left a little that should give you the best approach.|

“Thanks,” Underground said softly as he followed the suggested route. He crouched beside a concrete barrier, listening intently for the conversation happening on the bridge. Foxfire clipped one of the surveillance camera feeds into the mask and Underground watched as Justin fidgeted nervously, several dark suited men coming through the darkness towards him. Two of them grabbed him by either arm and forcefully led him across the bridge and into the darkness. Underground jumped over the barrier smoothly and followed. He stopped again when Foxfire found him a good place to hide and watch. There were no cameras covering this part of the bridge, so Foxfire dropped a small piece of her gooey flesh so it could roll along the ground and see what it could see. She clipped the footage from the small blue blob to Underground. It was hard to follow as the blob would roll and the perspective was subject to change, but Underground had been working with his partner for so long that he found it easy to follow along with the rolling.

Several black vehicles were parked on the side of the road, under a thick growth of pines. Justin was forced to stand in front of them. He rubbed his arm nervously as a door of one of the cars opened.

Eldar stepped out of the car with a grin and nodded to the villain. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” the demonic man said with a mocking tone. “You’ve always been quite cowardly. I was actually surprised it took you so long to go hide behind one of those heroes.”

Justin glanced down and nodded. Underground studied his pale face for a moment before turning his attention to Eldar again. Eldar grinned, putting his hands behind his back. “You know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you fight,” Eldar said as he circled Justin, his footsteps silent on the gravel. Justin shuddered.

“How about I cut you a deal,” the demonic man grinned, stopping behind Justin menacingly, one hand on the lesser villain’s shoulder. “I’ll tell you that your sidekick is in the empty water cistern over in the warehouse district.”

Eldar removed his hand from Justin’s shoulder to pull out a small remote and then put his arm around Justin’s shoulders. He clicked the button with a sadistic chuckle. “And this button just opened up a channel for the cistern to start filling with water.”

Justin’s eyes widened and his hand shot out to try and grab the remote. Eldar danced away, tsking. “None of that. After all, you only have so much time to fight off my men before you can dash off to save your beloved sidekick.”

The men around the cars had circled up menacingly and Justin had a wild panic in his eye as he spun around, trying to see them all at once. Underground tensed up, ready to dash out. Before he did, Andrew and Elliot appeared from out of nowhere and immediately knocked down man after man, having surprise on their side.

With a sigh of relief, he left it to their capable hands and snuck out back across the bridge, Foxfire having already pulled up the map of the warehouse district. He wasn’t big on vehicles, but he jumped into Justin’s car, which had the keys left inside just in case someone needed to use it in an instant. Underground started it up and raced off down the roads, Foxfire in his ear giving him extra directions. The two tried to hide their nervousness, as there was a large possibility that Ash was already dead.

Underground slammed to a stop outside the cistern. He didn’t even bother to turn the car off as he jumped out and ran up the sides of the concrete container. He found a door at the top that he ripped open, glad to find it unlocked. As he rushed down, he could hear the sounds of rushing water echoing up the dark staircase. He broke out onto long walkways and slammed against a railway due to his momentum when he stopped to look down. Water was indeed filling the cistern through a modified opening and someone was tied to a fairly tall step ladder of some kind. Though the figure was tied about eight feet up, the water was already to his middle. Underground studied the drop for a moment before lifting himself over the railing and dove into the cold water. Due to the suit that covered his top and disappeared under his cargo pants and boots, he didn’t feel the cold except for on the back of his head and where the water soaked through his boots and socks.

He winced as he felt the mask seal to his face tighter but pushed up through the water and the currents, coming up fairly near to the young man who had a bag over his head and ropes twisted around his already soaked body.

Foxfire lit his work with a blue glow from her own body and unmuted his mask as he said, “Ash, I’m here to rescue you.”

He put a gentle hand on the young man’s shoulder, finding footing on the step ladder for a moment before pulling out a knife and cutting the ropes free.

Ash flinched under every touch, but leaned forward onto Underground as the bindings were released. Underground hoisted the young man higher out of the water before looking around for a way out.

|Grapple?| Foxfire suggested.

“Yeah,” Underground muttered, reaching into a pocket on his pants to pull out the grapple in question. The gun was probably too wet to use, but with an impressive throw he got it up over the railing. He pulled Ash around himself to his back. Ash draped his arms across Underground's shoulders, but it was obvious he was too tired to hold himself on or to pull the hood off his head. Foxfire took care of it, though, sticking onto him and acting as a bit of a harness between Ash and Underground.

Underground hauled all three of them up the rope, panting and berating himself for eating so much stir fry earlier. He would never bemoan a victim’s weight, of course. Most of them were much too light for his tastes and Ash was definitely no exception.

He pulled over the rail and grabbed the grapple, stuffing it back into his pocket before putting his hands under Ash to support his weight as he climbed back up the stairs.

“Signal Andrew, please, Foxfire,” Underground said.

Foxfire bubbled and did as he asked with a small pulsing light from within. Underground got out of the cistern and scrambled down the side. He left the car where it was and started walking through back streets and alleyways to one of his nearby hideouts. Foxfire would let Andrew know where they were supposed to meet.

Underground slipped into the house through a side door and closed it with his foot. He went to the couch and carefully deposited Ash there. Ash was still conscious, though shaking badly from the cold and exertion. Underground pulled the bag off gently, wincing behind his mask at the wounds in the young man’s face.

“I’m Underground,” the hero said warmly, quickly grabbing the blankets folded on top of the couch to wrap around the poor man. “Justin will be coming here very soon. You're safe. Is it alright if I clean some of your wounds?”

Ash stared at him with half vacant eyes. He blinked twice before he seemed to register what had been said. He nodded very slowly and Underground grabbed a medkit from under the couch. He didn’t start with the face, as he didn’t want to spook the young man. He carefully pushed back Ash’s sleeves and gritted his teeth.

“Can you pull your shirt off?” Underground asked gently. Ash tried to, but didn’t get very far, so Underground had to help. There were all kinds of markings across Ash’s pale skin. Slashes, punctures, bruises, burns. Most all of them were healed to various degrees and the newer wounds that looked like they had occurred yesterday had stopped bleeding. If Ash weren’t so swollen from bruising, Underground was sure he’d be able to easily count the young man’s ribs. He was dressing the multitude of wounds on Ash’s arms and upper body when there was a knock on the door.

Underground put the roll of gauze down and went to the door. Foxfire cheerfully announced to him that it was the heroes and Justin. Underground pulled open the door to let them in. Justin pushed past Underground and slid to his knees in front of his sidekick.

Ash looked up at the man from his raw hands and froze, tears welling up in his eyes when he saw Justin.

“Ash. I’m so-” Justin tried to say but was cut off when Ash threw himself forward with a cry that was half pain and half absolute relief.

Justin hugged him back, crying into his sidekick’s matted hair and rocking back and forth. Underground watched for a moment before turning and going into the small kitchen to get some glasses of juice. He came back with the juice to find Justin still holding Ash, but now looking at all of his wounds with a horrified expression.

“I’m fine,” Ash said softly, trying to pull the blanket up and hide the old and new scars and wounds.

“No you’re not,” Underground said, passing both Justin and Ash a cup of juice. “I’ll finish cleaning the bigger wounds, if that’s alright.”

Justin nodded and sat on the couch beside Ash. The villain helped his sidekick drink the juice as Andrew and Elliot sat down on some of the other chairs.

Underground finished with Ash’s torso and sighed. “Alright, I wanted to clean some of these before I took you to the hospital, but I’ve put it off for as long as I could.”

Justin paled slightly. “You’re just going to take him to a hospital!?”

Underground nodded. “I know you don’t have the crew to have good medics anymore. I’ll be taking him to some doctors I would trust with anyone’s lives and I’ll pay for it. I’ll even make sure you can be there with him.”

Justin bit his lip and glanced at Ash, but Ash was completely out of it at this point having gotten something into his stomach and some small pain medication on board. Justin looked back to Underground and nodded.

Underground picked Ash up carefully, formally thanked Andrew and Elliot for their help and opened the front door to disappear into the night with Justin, the band around his chest glowing ever so slightly as if filled with pride.

Underground Hero Taglist: @doubi-ixi @my-dump-of-whump @thethistlegirl

#writing #wip underground hero #villain #hero #whump

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ask-a-w · 4 years

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The Youtuber Suzi, aka The Sphere Hunter, managed to get Nick Apostolides, Leon's RE2 remake VA, to join her to commentate on the game as she played.

These are some interesting titbits Nick shared about the filming process of RE2.

- Nick did the motion capture for the truck driver at the beginning of the game and pretended to eat a burger. He said quite a lot of the actors were zombies in the game too.

- While Nick has a stunt background, Capcom did not allow him to do dangerous stunts for fear of injurying him which would delay filming and production.

- The car explosion scene that occurs when Leon & Claire just enters the city was basically the stuntman being rammed by a mattress to simulate being thrown into the air and the stuntman will land on a safety mat after that.

- Some scenes were pre-animated and not mocapped. That means Leon's body was already present in the game but the face was blank and they recorded Nick's facial expressions. Some pre-animated scenes were Leon pulling Elliot through the bottom of the shutters and when Leon jumped down a mini elevator platform and found Ada in the sewers.

- Scenes were filmed out of order. Nick says for Leon and Ada's scenes, they could film the ending scene first and then film the scene where they meet each other.

- They filmed "a different script", went on hiatus for 8 months, then scraped the previous script and re-filmed everything. The original script had completely different scenarios on how the characters met.

- "Ada wait!" was never present in the script and Nick is happy about that as he feels certain lines belong to the VAs that say the lines. He is happy that line belongs to the late Paul Haddad.

- TJ Rotolo, who played Birkin, also did the mocap for all the G forms of Birkin.

- Nick says Leon in sleeves at the end of the game "is really hot". Lol!

- Nick says the RE4 remake is all just speculation so far and he would happily play Leon again, if he ever gets the call.

- For the scene between Leon and Claire through the fence/gate at the RPD, the director did instruct Nick and Stephanie to be a little flirty like "you have a small crush on a person and just casually bump into them".

- Capcom did not specify where Leon comes from but Nick says "probably the suburbs".

- Nick's favourite scenes were when Leon and Ada meets Kendo and when Ada says goodbye to Leon.

- For the scene where G1 Birkin smashes Leon through the floor, the filming for the body and facial expressions were done separately. Because of the head camera Nick wore during filming, his head would be thrashing around while his body was being man-handled and that is not helpful for the animators.

So, they will first film him stationary and he has to imagine being thrown around and he does the grimacing and wincing for the facial capture. After that they motion capture his body being thrown around and the team splices these two images together.

The same thing is done for when Mr X grabs Leon by the throat in the parking garage. They first film the body where Nick was in a harness and he was indeed grabbed in the throat. Then after that they film his facial reaction.

- Nick casually comments "a sexy lady in a red dress, well trenchcoat currently" kicks the ladder down after the G1 Birkin fight. I assume this is purely speculative on his part and the fans part.

- Nick loves the interactions between Leon and Ada. He says Leon "still cares" no matter what Ada did despite being naive at the beginning and learning the truth at the end.

- The scene where the zombie dog attacks Leon in the parking garage was one of the casting scenes used for casting Ada.

- Nick feels Ada is a complex character and she "sobers up" a bit after the Kendo interaction.

- Nick said that after the last round of auditioning, he sent an email to the casting team and persuaded them to let Capcom and the director know that he's a huge RE fan and if he got the role, he'll give it his all and respect what they do to this re-imagination of Leon.

- Nick actually missed the first round of auditions due to scheduling conflicts and managed to persuade them to let him audition for the second round. Nick told them he understood the character, the universe of RE, and the relationships he has with the various characters.

- Ken Lally, Kendo's VA, mocapped Wesker's body in RE5 as DC Douglas was injured.

- Eliza, Sherry's VA, mocapped Emma, Kendo's daughter.

- The scene with Kendo, Emma, Ada, and Leon were one of the last scenes they filmed as Capcom wasn't sure how to handle Kendo's character but Nick said he's glad they got this scene down beautifully.

- All the vulgar language weren't scripted, the director asked the VAs to genuinely react to the scenario and told them to just naturally utter what they would really say if they were in that situation. Hence, you get a lot of "shits" and "fucks".

- RE2 was shot in LA while RE3 was shot in Japan as they were done by different teams.

- Nick says if you deal enough damage to G2 Birkin in the sewers but don't use the giant crate, Leon will say something along the lines of "Bullets don't work on this guy, gotta think of something else" and Nick says he hasn't heard anyone play the game that way till Leon says that line.

- "I think I can fit it in my schedule" and "Yes ma'am" were improv-ed by Nick when Leon rescues Ada from the sewers. The director wanted the interactions to be organic and if a line doesn't work, they were open to the VAs to improv.

- Some of the dialogue in the older RE games sound funny and clunky because they were written by a Japanese person who spoke English while the remakes were written by an American scriptwriter so the words sound natural and smooth.

- Nick jokingly said Leon will walk through fire for Ada after the Aeon kiss. Candidly said the Aeon kiss is his first and last kiss in his life 'cos "Leon is so pure". Haha.

- The Aeon kiss had to be filmed twice. The first time both Nick and Jolene had their head cameras on so they can't really kiss and they kissed the air instead. The second time, they took off their head cameras and kissed for real. Capcom stitched both takes into the final scene.

- The VA is cast first, then face model is cast after as they want the facial structure between both people to be as similar as possible so it is easier to animate the facial expressions on the face model’s face.

- In the rehearsal, the director made Nick say "Tell me you love me" after each line in the final Aeon scene to help bring out the emotions and every time Nick said it, he would say it in different ways. The director was satisfied that he brought out the emotions he wanted for the scene and went for the final take. Nick said to keep that in mind as we watch the scene.

- Nick feels Leon's soul went down with Ada when she fell. Aww.

- Nick had a lot of fun filming the scene where he jumps on the train at the end and gave suggestions on how Leon could get on the train. During filming, it was a wooden train with pipes and everything. Nick said he wanted it to look like Leon was being dragged on the ground as he got on the train.

To make that happen, they wrapped really sticky material around the pipe Leon grabs and Nick had a rope tied on his waist. As Nick jumped on the train, a stunt coordinator would yank on the rope while Nick would also work against the yanking to give the "dragging on ground" effect as he made effort to climb on board the train.

#crossbow down #resident evil #resident evil 2 #Leon Kennedy #Ada Wong #Claire Redfield #Nick Apostolides

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juliaisabellphoto · 3 years

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My 2020 Albums of the Year

Never requested, always provided. Here are my favorites of 2020. Here’s the playlist.

The Secret Sisters, Saturn Return

As soon as I saw “Water Witch, featuring Brandi Carlile” on this tracklist I knew that the Secret Sisters would be a favorite of 2020. In February, I was staying with a friend in Nashville and she mentioned them as a local favorite, and when I stopped at Grimey’s to shop for records I came upon a signed copy of “Saturn Return.” I had never heard the Secret Sisters before, but there is nobody I trust more to recommend music than this Nashville friend of mine, so I bought it. I made no mistake here: this record blew me away. The soft, soulful, lullaby of “Healer in the Sky” pulled me through the pain of the first month of quarantine and soothed me as the world was turned upside down. In reading more on the record, this seems to have been the point: they say, “this album is a reflection of us coming to terms with how to find our power in the face of an unfair world… our hope is that women can feel less alone in their journey through the modern world.” There is something in the caramel-thick sweetness of these sisters’ voices that makes a listener feel as though they’ve been bewitched into calm. When I think of this album, I think of the cross-country drive I took at the beginning of the pandemic to make my way home and the happy moments that can be found in darkness. No album touched my heart this year in the way that “Saturn Return” did.

Taylor Swift, Folklore and Evermore

Taylor Swift… can even be said? Somehow, while we all sat on our couches in quarantine, this woman created not one but two musical masterpieces. She begins “the 1” by stating “I’m doin good, I’m on some new shit,” and that says a lot about the album as a whole. She created the 2020 we all wish we experienced: soft, sweet, and gentle. Listening to Folklore feels like visiting a cabin in the woods, with a fireplace well lit. Swift tells winding stories of love, hardship, and mystery and tenderly walks us through the forest of her imagination. This magical feeling was amplified by her release of The Long Pond Studio Sessions, a film in which Swift, Jack Antonoff, and Aaron Dessner finally play the album together for the first time after recording it entirely remotely. The setting matches the sound: they play in an album in the middle of the woods, cozy and hidden from the snow. Evermore cuts through the delicate ice of Folklore: it is the color to Folklore’s black and white. Swift combines the soft folk sound of “willow” with some of her country and Americana roots in “no body, no crime,” drawing us in once again. She includes Bon Iver singing in his lower register in Folklore and then in his falsetto in Evermore: two sides of the same magic coin. The work in these two albums is Swift’s strongest ever, and solidifies the fact that no modern artist can really reach her.

Chris Stapleton, Starting Over

Following a three-year hiatus, all lovers of southern rock deeply needed a Chris Stapleton album. In “Starting Over,” Stapleton yet again does what he does best: combines his unique whiskey-tinged growl with the best lyricism present in country music today. This record can’t be captured in any singular fashion, neither musically nor emotionally. The title track sets a high bar for the rest of the record with a reflection on re-remembering what really matters, a message certainly relevant for this turbulent year. Stapleton’s typical outlaw-country brand is present in full with “Devil Always Made Me Think Twice,” “Arkansas,” and “Hillbilly Blood,” but other songs take him in a completely new stylistic direction. “Maggie’s Song” takes on a very classic old-time country feel, as Stapleton weaves sweet and simple stories as he processes the loss of his pup. He harnesses the energy of the Chicks as he angrily lambasts the perpetrators of the 2017 mass shooting at Route 91. The song is a Stapleton-sponsored judgment day reckoning, including the cacophonic sound of a crowd in panic and the shrieks of a gospel choir. In contrast with this energetic high, Stapleton goes deep into his blues side by finally releasing “You Should Probably Leave,” a song he has been sitting on for six years. This one feels just right to sway around the kitchen to. With each listen to “Starting Over” I find new lyrics to write down and remember, new sounds to love.

Bad Bunny, YHLQMDLG

Bad Bunny. Our unproblematic reggaeton prince. In the wake of his many popular features and his collaborative album with J Balvin, Bad Bunny makes it clear that it is time for Balvin to share the throne of popular reggaeton. He features the original reggaeton king Daddy Yankee in “La Santa,” paying tribute to the very classic reggaeton style before mixing it and transcending beyond the classics in the following tracks. “Yo Perreo Sola” is the album’s standout track, accompanied by my favorite music video of 2020. The song is an ode to gender equality and the destruction of the patriarchal norms contributing to gender-based violence. “Yo Perreo Sola,” meaning “I twerk alone,” sets the overarching theme of consent present throughout the song’s lyrics. In the video, Benito’s backdrop references the Argentinian-born “Ni Una Menos” movement, a now global movement against gender-based violence. As if this wasn’t enough to make you adore him, the video further extends its activism to the LGBTQ community, with Benito appearing in full drag, in his normal attire, and at some points held in chains by women. He makes a statement about sexuality and gender expression in the video, twerking solo. The other jawdropper track on YHLQMDLG is Safaera, a perfect display of Bad Bunny’s skill in expanding the scope of reggaeton as a genre. In the same thirty seconds of the song, he subtly samples both “Could You Be Loved” by Bob Marley and the Wailers and Missy Elliot’s “Get Ya Freak On” - a segment I just can’t get out of my head. Bad Bunny’s prowess on this record is rounded out with the aggressive and prideful “P FKN R.” What a masterpiece.

Mac Miller, Circles

A posthumous record that never should have been posthumous. A companion-piece to Mac’s 2018 record “Swimming,” Circles takes a similar tone, one of resilience through pain. The title track serves as a somber introduction, followed by the funk energy of “Complicated” and the GO:OD AM energy of “Blue World.” The song that really got to me, and many other fans of Mac, was “Good News.” It is the pinnacle of Mac’s musical insight and talent. The melody matches the melancholy of the track, as Mac sings of his desire for time and space. The melancholy is matched in “Everybody” with the lines about death feeling particularly haunting in the wake of Miller’s accidental overdose. Somehow, Miller wrote the perfect eulogy for himself prior to his passing, one that will live in the hearts of his fans forever.

Kali Uchis, Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios) ∞

I’m not quite sure what to call this record. If I just listened to “la luna enamorada,” a cover of a classic Cuban bolero, I would call it gorgeous. If I just listened to “fue mejor” featuring PARTYNEXTDOOR or “quiero sentirme bien,” I would call it sexy. If I just listened to “vaya con dios,” I would think she wrote the theme music for the next James Bond film. The bottom line of the record is Uchis’ absolute stunning use of her upper register. She hits notes that “Isolation” never would have foreshadowed, painting a dreamland for any listener. She slides back into the energy of her sophomore album in “telepatia,” but adds in moments of her new sound. She incorporates a slower reggaeton beat into no eres tu (soy yo), and dives into a heavier reggaeton sound in te pongo mal (prendelo.) My personal favorite of the record is “aqui yo mando!” with Rico Nasty: it is the perfect display of Uchis’ unique upper register combined with Rico’s trap style. Anyone passing this record up for another “Isolation” listen is missing out.

FLETCHER, The S(ex) Tapes

This record has a story like no other, coming from a woman like no other. This EP was recorded while Fletcher quarantined with her ex-girlfriend, who also happened to film all of the music videos for it. It is this messiness that makes The S(ex) Tapes absolute magic. Fletcher’s own description of the name of the release explains the situation best: “A sex tape is someone being captured in their most vulnerable, wildest, rawest form, and my ex has always captured me that way.” She captures all of the feelings of a breakup with someone you still love deeply, and the relationship relapse that comes with moving past those feelings. Fletcher’s special ability comes in representing these deeply painful experiences in an uplifting manner: this is a sexy pop EP meant to be danced to. Fletcher simultaneously validates all of the emotional tumult, but subtly nudges the listener toward blissful reckless abandon. It almost makes me wish I had a breakup to go through! The abrasive apathy of “Shh… Don’t Say It” and the flippant, angry vulnerability of “Bitter” are paired perfectly with Fletcher’s raw brand of distortion. In an interview with Nylon, Fletcher speaks to this: “Listen, I've done my fair share of just straight-up sad, crying in your bed music. I'm still going through shit, but I want to bop to it. We can still be emo and want to twerk at the same time.” Yes, Fletcher, we do.

Halsey, Manic

Prior to 2020, I wasn’t Halsey’s biggest fan. I wouldn’t have even called myself a fan. I just wasn’t that excited by her music. “I’m Not Mad” was the song that triggered a 180 for me. The heavy, dissonant kick of the drums and her raw, angry lyricism drew me in without hesitation. I suppose this was just the push I needed to fall in love with the rest of her music: the songs with similar bite, “Without Me” and “killing boys,” and the more raw side of the record in “You should be sad,” “929,” and “Graveyard.” Her vulnerability is so much of what makes this record perfect. The album fully made sense to me when I listened to her podcast feature on “Armchair Expert” with Dax Shepard. In it, she talks through the time period covered by the record and gives context to her powerful lyricism. “Manic” is a story of chasing someone she loved into drug-fueled oblivion, and then finally finding the power to leave. The album is brimming with this power, and I just can’t turn it off.

HAIM, Women In Music Pt. III

HAIM is THE soft rock band of the modern era.Women In Music Pt. III, their most mature album yet, solidified this opinion for me in a way that I didn’t expect. There is so much to be said for this record: it is innovative and skilled, with the perfect balance of softness and hardness. Though the record is one of pain and trauma, you wouldn’t know it purely from its melodies. “Don’t Wanna” is a very classic HAIM pop rock number, and “The Steps” follows suit making frustration fun to dance to. Though one may not notice at first, in this record HAIM dives deeper than ever before. “Now I’m In It” does a phenomenal job of sonically representing the feeling of being completely and utterly overwhelmed. “I Know Alone” is a beautifully intimate rainy-day account of Danielle’s struggle with depression. Then comes “3AM” - a lighthearted song about a booty call with Thundercat-type bass and an R&B vibe - just in case you didn’t already know how much range these three sisters have. Everything about this record is filled with talent.

Phoebe Bridgers, Punisher

Only Phoebe Bridgers could write a song about murdering a skinhead and fill it with nostalgia. “Garden Song,” the leading single preceding “Punisher,” foreshadowed a record that is just so very Phoebe: melancholy, vulnerable, and heart-wrenching. The eagerly awaited album certainly followed suit, with typical sad ballads “Halloween” and “Moon Song” played alongside more raucous, Better Oblivion Community Center-esque songs such as “Kyoto” and “ICU.” She goes bluegrass on “Graceland Too” with banjo, violin, and layered harmonies from boygenius collaborators Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. In “Punisher,” Bridgers shares with us the wistful catharsis that she is so very talented at creating.

Noah Cyrus, THE END OF EVERYTHING

I always underestimated Miley’s little sister, but here I am writing about her EP before I write about Miley’s in my end of the year roundup. Every piece in this record gave me chills: Cyrus’ lower register allows her to access a somber kind of ballad that I just can’t get enough of. The record starts off at a peak with the slow burn of “Ghost” and somehow manages to get even better with “I Got So High That I Saw Jesus.” This powerful song, even better in the live version where Miley joins her younger sister, builds into an almost gospel-like ode to the idea that everything will be okay. “July,” the single featuring Leon Bridges that pushed Cyrus into the national spotlight, stands as the most beautifully layered song of the EP. The soft guitar picking and choral sound complement Cyrus’ upper register. The whole record, extending through the closing title track, is a comforting, soft emotional analgesic for 2020.

The Chicks, Gaslighter

This record is gorgeous. It is painful. The feelings Natalie Maines expresses in this record are feelings I have felt far too deeply in personal relationships, and they also are feelings everyone is feeling globally in 2020. “Gaslighter” is just straight up fun, a perfect extension of the Chicks’ energy found in “Goodbye Earl” and other older revenge numbers (but with an extra poppy Jack Antonoff twist this time.) “Tights On My Boat” is bitter, funny, and shows off Maines’ upper register with stripped guitar. “Sleep at Night” musically and lyrically embodies the pain of being betrayed. “Julianna Calm Down” is a stunning ballad of female resilience. “Texas Man” perfectly captures the bubbly feeling of moving on. “For Her” and “March March” fit in with the frustrated, betrayed, power-centered theme of the record in a very different way. The Chicks’ dualistic ability to discuss her ex-husband’s cheating alongside the band’s political views is what makes the record special: not only are we watching a woman try to move on and develop her personal strength, but we are also seeing this personal strength harnessed for political impact. They simultaneously denounce the abuse of power in both politics and relationships, while reclaiming that power for themselves in standing up for what they believe in. How very Chicks of them.

Dua Lipa, Future Nostalgia

Dua motherfucking Lipa. This woman would have been the official owner of 2020 had we been able to dance to this record at bars and clubs. This was proven ten times over by the success of the album’s first single, “Don’t Start Now,” a song that is absolutely the MOST fun. Or so I thought… until I heard “Physical,” “Levitating,” and “Break My Heart.” What poor timing for such a phenomenal dance record, but at least she gave the people some great material for Tik Tok dances! All COVID-dance-related concerns aside, this is a really well done sophomore album for Dua Lipa. The funk elements of the album most clearly seen in “Levitating” elevate Dua’s brand of pop to a new level. The all gas no brakes nature of this dance-pop record works wonders for her - she knows what the people want from her, and she delivers.

Megan Thee Stallion, Good News

THIS! RECORD! If WAP could be an album of the year, it would be, but it’s a standalone single and Megan Thee Stallion proceeded to release the next best thing. The explosion of Megan Thee Stallion has been a pleasure to watch in 2020, with both WAP and Savage leaving the charge. With an artist like her, it’s easy to get lost in the smash hits and ignore the prolific nature of her work. “Good News” is an immaculate rap album, brimming with sass and defiant bad bitch energy. “Shots Fired” kicks off the album with a Biggie sample and a diss to the man who shot her in the foot earlier in the year, personally my favorite track of the record. Other highlights of the record include “Don’t Stop” with a Young Thug feature, “Body” which is now a Tik Tok staple, and “What’s New.” Perhaps the most impressive work Megan does on “Good News” is “Girls in the Hood,” a rework of Eazy-E’s Boyz-N-The-Hood. She inverts the classic misogyny of the original song by emphasizing her control over men like Eazy-E in an indignant assertion of female power. This embodies Megan Thee Stallion’s essence: busting in on a male industry and making her presence known.

Rico Nasty, Nightmare Vacation

Nobody does it like Rico Nasty, and I’m convinced nobody ever will. I saw a New York Times headline titled “Can the Mainstream Catch Up to Rico Nasty?” the other day and I think the answer is a firm no. Rico is abrasive, rude, and outside the box in the absolute best way. Need an album to slap in the car when you’re feeling like a bad bitch? This. is. it. The record kicks off with “Candy,” a song with a wild beat and the iconic chorus line “Call me crazy, but you can never call me broke.” Following is a Don Toliver and Gucci Mane feature in “Don’t Like Me,” a song that truly should have hit the mainstream by now. She gets back to her signature scream-rap in “STFU” and “OHFR.” “OHFR” is the confident standout of the album, along with the reworked re-release of “Smack a Bitch,” making it clear that Rico Nasty is not a woman to be fucked with. In “Back and Forth” with Amine, Rico steps into Amine’s “Limbo” style and does it well. The record’s second single “Own It” is a more classic club banger that unfortunately didn’t get to see the dark of night in any clubs this year. Even if the mainstream never catches up to Rico Nasty, I’ll be following along with her self-labelled “sugar trap.”

Ariana Grande, Positions

I mean, duh. Ariana just doesn’t miss. She surprised everyone with this album’s release in Fall 2020, displaying the bliss of her relationship with later-confirmed fiance. She goes dirtier than usual in the sex-centered “34+35” and “nasty,” rounding the record out with the Craig David-reminiscent “positions.” Ariana allows herself to lust for someone and even love for them in these three, but defaults to her brimming self-confidence in “just like magic” and “west side.” The album is more R&B than pop at times, with the peak of this style visible in the groove of “my hair” and the Mariah Carey ballad-like nature of “pov.” Each album, Grande shifts just a little bit, keeping us attached: “Sweetener”’s cotton-candy pop, the savage pop-trap of “thank u, next,” and the R&B conclusion of the spectrum with Positions.

Miley Cyrus, Plastic Hearts

This year I anticipated no record more than I did “Plastic Hearts.” Its leading single, “Midnight Sky,” described by Pitchfork as a “cocaine-dusted disco track,” channels Stevie Nicks’ eighties rock-pop era in the absolute best way. Apparently this opinion was even picked up by Stevie herself, as the two collaborated on a mash-up of “Midnight Sky” and Stevie’s “Edge of Seventeen” (the excitement from which nearly led to my passing away, by the way.) Cyrus’ voice is in the perfect place on this record, with “Plastic Hearts” emphasizing her rasp and making me want to spin around a room. She dips into the pop realm in “Prisoner” with Dua Lipa, a song that Lipa clearly influences with an unforgettably sexy music video. Every song is different on this record: “Gimme What I Want” channels the grinding rock sound of Nine Inch Nails, “Bad Karma” allows Joan Jett’s punchy style to run the show, and she slips on the shoes of Billy Idol in their collaboration, Night Crawling. Somehow, Miley manages to wear the shoes well, and 80s copycat record or not, I can’t stop listening. “Never Be Me” is where she shines most deeply, baring her soul, the complicated nature of her past few years’ journey, and her knowledge of who she is and always will be for the world to hear. I’m not sure if I’m blinded to the album’s flaws by my absolute and complete love for everything about Miley’s current persona, but I am a huge fan.

Glass Animals, Dreamland

The sound of this album is such a blissful respite! Glass Animals gives us the fun and funky techno-pop that they always do, but dive into personal lyricism in a way that they never have before. Many of the songs actually have a storyline (an intentionally rare feat for Dave Bayley, first broken with the incredible “Agnes” on their last album.) This record explores trauma and pain in “Domestic Bliss” and “It’s All So Incredibly Loud,” Bayley using the soft sides of his voice to express pained desperation. The boisterous energy of the past two records is not forgotten in Dreamland’s intimacy, however: “Hot Sugar,” “Tokyo Drifting,” and “Space Ghost Coast To Coast” do the trick. “Space Ghost Coast To Coast” is the most intriguing song on the record: at first listen, I had absolutely no idea what Dave was discussing and assumed it was just his typical neuroscience-inspired ear-candy. Upon a deeper dive, the song addresses the factors that encouraged Dave’s childhood friend to bring a gun to school. He disguises a discussion of the risk factors involved in school shootings within his flowery, figurative linguistic excellence. This duality of blissful melody and solemn subject matter is the magic of Glass Animals.

Empress Of, I’m Your Empress Of

This album is an emotional electro-pop masterpiece. This record meditates on the feelings felt in the wake of a relationship’s end. She begins the album with a quote from her mother about the reality and value of struggle, then launching into a synth-filled storm of missing someone. “Love Is A Drug” is the album’s next fun dance track, addressing the addictive quality of touch after you lose someone you love and embodying the urgency of the feeling. She takes a more somber tone with the influence of Jim-E Stack in “U Give It Up,” incorporating quotes from her mother about the difficulty of womanhood and reminiscing on love lost. In “Should’ve,” the post-relationship regret is palpable in her vocal tone and production, and in “Maybe This Time” she contemplates this pain. In “Give Me Another Chance,” her emotions swing the other way, with a bouncing dance beat and pleading vocals. The album concludes with the heartfelt and pain-filled “Hold Me Like Water” and the dissonant “Awful,” leaving the listener to meditate on the mood swings of a broken relationship.

Tame Impala, The Slow Rush

This album came out so early in 2020 that it already feels like a vintage piece of music. Perhaps that was the point. Although “The Slow Rush” had a hard time living up to Kevin Parker’s last epic masterpiece “Currents,” it was the fix many fans like myself needed after five years without an LP. “Borderline,” the single that allowed anticipation of the album to build, stands out as one of the most essentially Parker tracks of the record. He introduces a little Toro y Moi style funk in “Is It True,” and highlights his voice more than usual in “Lost In Yesterday.” “Posthumous Forgiveness” builds in the wonderfully dissonant fashion that fans learned to love through “Eventually.” The bass track on “Glimmer” is so good that I never even noticed it had nearly no lyrics. This record is not groundbreaking by any standards in the way that “Currents” was, but it is intentionally jubilant and energetic in a way that still feels good. Even if he doesn’t shatter any expectations in “The Slow Rush,” Tame Impala’s tracklist still makes the perfect sunset companion.

Joji, Nectar

Joji’s “Nectar” is just that: sweet R&B nectar, from the minute the first track plays. Joji’s work here is not in the individual tracks, but in the sonic experience he creates with the album as a whole. This is not an album to pick out singles from: it is a full cinematic mood adjustment. Maybe it’s the weed I smoked when I first listened, but the record feels like a wonderful progression of gentle yet rhythmic R&B songs. The transition from the soft and contemplative “MODUS” to the more upbeat trap-infused “Tick Tock” to the full R&B ballad “Daylight” featuring Diplo raises the listener’s energy gradually to a crescendo. “Run” is a gorgeous and sad confessional of disappointment, and “Sanctuary” follows as a soft and uplifting analgesic to that pain. “Pretty Boy” and “777” mark the more upbeat section of the record, filled with Joji’s accounts of living far too fast. The tracks of this record all bleed into each other seamlessly, mixing pain and confidence in an emotional rollercoaster.

Amine, Limbo

My journey to being an Amine fan started with “Caroline,” ended with “Heebiejeebies,” and started back up again when he found depth in “ONEPOINTFIVE.” His 2020 release is exactly why I came around to his music yet again. The record is soulful and fun, with the flute and cocky lyrics in “Woodlawn” and the funky beat and Young Thug feature of “Compensating.” The two songs I absolutely can’t stop listening to however, are “Can’t Decide” and “Becky.” “Can’t Decide” highlights Amine’s singing voice and dips away from rap and trap into the more traditional R&B realm. “Becky” is an intimate account of the difficulties involved with interracial dating, both in public and in the family realm. The two sides of the album, one emphasizing rhythm and immaculate production, and the other lyricism and emotion, are found in these two songs. The punchy “Pressure In My Palms” (featuring slowthai and Vince Staples) and “Riri” round out the record’s light side. In “Limbo,” Amine finds the perfect balance.

Fleet Foxes, Shore

This album is a wave of calm. Robin Pecknold’s soothing voice is exactly what we needed more of this year. Pitchfork described his mission as “turning anxiety into euphoria,” and that is how this record feels. Each song is dynamic and filled with what makes Fleet Foxes so special. There is a choral quality to the vocals of “Shore,” as always, adding to the calm aura of the record. “A Long Way Past The Past” takes the listener on a what feels like a long walk filled with serious conversation. “Going-to-the-Sun Road,” a song that takes its name from the famous cliffside road through Glacier National Park, oozes sunshine in its Tame Impala-Bon Iver crossover sound. “Cradling Mother, Cradling Woman,” truly feels like being cradled in sound. Fleet Foxes has a knack for beginning songs by hitting the listener with a wall of sound, and that is so perfectly represented in this track. This is a seriously beautiful album.

Cam, The Otherside

Cam’s voice is irresistible. She showed her talent for sharing painful ballads in her breakthrough single “Burning House,” and in “The Otherside” she digs deeper. She writes this record in a period of change, and captures this change and dissonance in the nostalgia of “Redwood Tree.” She teamed up with Avicii for the title track before he passed away, and it shows. His signature building melodies and guitar breaks are clear, and they go perfectly with the range of Cam’s voice. She truly shows her range in this track and this record in general, from the highs in “The Otherside” and the lows of “Changes.” “Changes” is another standout of the album, co-written by Harry Styles. This record is a gorgeous account of outgrowing love and outgrowing people after the deep bliss that you felt with them in the past. “Till There’s Nothing Left” and “Classic” are the big love songs of the record, one that melts you and one that makes you want to dance in a field of flowers. The sisterly confessional “Diane” pulls Cam back to her country roots. She ends the record with what made her famous: a beautiful, sad ballad backed only by piano. Her unique vocals are on full display as the record concludes, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Omar Apollo, Apolonio

Omar Apollo had his breakthrough in this record. His work spans languages and genres in a big way in “Apolonio.” “Kamikaze” and “Staybacik” stick to his typical R&B style, better produced than it ever has been. “Dos Uno Nueve (219)” goes a completely different direction, a Mexican corrido track featuring Yellow Room Music, honoring the Latinx musical styles that he expressed admiration for. Apollo also explores his sexuality in this album, fluidly discussing his bisexuality in “Kamikaze” and “I’m Amazing” in an exploratory manner. The whole album is generally quite exploratory, a quality that makes me even more excited for the work that is to come from Apollo.

Also worth mentioning:

Diplo, Diplo Presents Thomas Wesley: Snake Oil

Thundercat, It Is What It Is

Sylvan Esso, Free Love

Lauv, ~how i’m feeling~

Niall Horan, Heartbreak Weather

J Balvin, Colores

Kelsea Ballerini, kelsea

Dominic Fike, What Could Possibly Go Wrong

#music #2020

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amanda-glassen · 3 years

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Jerena honeymoon? 😏

I know you wanted smut but this is pure fluff and I apologize hahaha. Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I think it's 3000 words. Sorryyyyy.

Serena hated lingerie. She hated the complicated straps and clasps and the way the material felt against her skin. Most importantly, she hated the way she looked in it. She felt it didn’t flatter her the way it did the curvier, well-endowed women in movies and on TV. It made her feel too skinny and like she was lacking, but it was the first night of their honeymoon and Serena wanted to wear something special for her new wife. She put on a pair of cheeky white panties with a lace ruffle trim that she special-ordered with ‘Mrs. Castillo’ printed on the front in baby blue lettering. She touched up her hair and makeup, even if she knew Jamie wouldn’t mind that a few strands of hair were out of place or that her mascara was slightly smudged, but the more she fussed over her makeup, the more she realized she was stalling.

“Babe, are you okay?” She heard Jamie ask from their bed.

“I’m fine,” Serena responded although she was feeling anything but fine. “I’ll be right out.” She’s my wife and she loves me. Everything is going to be okay. This is nothing we haven’t done dozens of times before. But it was their first time as a married couple and Serena felt she had to make everything perfect for Jamie. Or maybe I should just be myself.

It was Halloween night and Serena had packed her pair of Freddy Krueger gloves that she usually wore when she took Olivia trick-or-treating. She opened the bathroom door and stuck her hand out so she could tap on the doorframe with the fake blades on her glove.

“Serena Benson!” Jamie shouted. “You scared the hell out of me. How is it that we’ve only been married 30 hours and I already want a divorce?”

Serena tapped the doorframe one more time before peeking her head out. “I’m sorry, but Serena Benson doesn’t exist anymore. You must be mistaken.”

“Babe, come here,” Jamie urged. “I wanna lie down with my wife.” Lie down. She thinks she’s slick.

Serena stood next to their bed, her hands covering her chest. “I’m ready to...lie down.”

“I’ve never been this over you,” Jamie grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed, eliciting a squeal from Serena. “Babe, take those gloves off.”

“I was going to and then you pulled me on the bed.” Serena took off the gloves and tossed them aside.

When Jamie started to kiss her, Serena felt as if her mind was elsewhere and without realizing it, she had started to pull away. “Do you want to stop?” Jamie asked. “I know it’s our honeymoon, but I’m just as happy holding you or hanging out with you.”

Serena captured her lips in a kiss. “No, no, I want to. I just feel like my mind isn’t here. I’m thinking about Ollie. This is our favorite holiday. She’s twelve and it’s her last kid Halloween, you know? I take her trick-or-treating every year with Elliot and her other friends. I even took her last year before I went over to your house. Next Halloween, she’ll be a teenager, and I feel like I missed my last shot. I’m just glad Mr. and Mrs. Cabot let Alex stay with her in LA. My heart and my mind are both here with you and over there with her. For the past twelve years, I’ve just been a mom and now I’m a mom and a wife and I have to learn how to balance the two.”

“Serena, look at me,” Jamie cupped her face in her hands. “Being my wife doesn’t mean you ever have to take time away from being Ollie’s mom. The three of us are a family. We’re a new family, but we’re going to make it work. Like with any family, there’s going to be a lot of trial and error, but I promise to never make you feel as if you have to choose between me and Ollie. Why don’t we call her right now and see how her Halloween is going?”

Serena immediately grabbed her phone from on top of the nightstand. It rang only one time before she heard her overly excited daughter on the other end. “Hi, Mom! I miss you!”

“Hi, Olliegator. I miss you too. How’s the haul this year?”

“Not as good as Alex’s neighborhood, but Lexie and Kyle helped us salvage the night,” Olivia responded. “Your candy map is a bust, Mom. Half of the houses on there don’t know the spirit of Halloween.”

The candy map in question is a map Serena created of the houses in Beverly Hills that gave out the best candy, had the scariest haunted houses, and the best decorations. “Ollie, I made that map in 1998. It’s not really relevant anymore.”

“See, that’s what I thought at first,” Olivia responded. “But Alex and I were just too taken in by the retro ‘90s charm. So, Mom, tell me about this cabin in the woods. Don’t most people honeymoon in Hawaii or Cabo or the Bahamas?”

“Too ordinary,” Serena responded. She knew Olivia would think it was because she wanted to be out in the woods on Halloween, but the real reason Serena wanted a honeymoon in a cabin away from everyone was because she wanted an entire week of being shut-in with Jamie with nobody else around them. “I’ll give you the grand tour of the cabin and the lake tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I think that would have been ordinary, too,” she could hear her daughter smiling through the phone. “Just remember if you find a creepy cellar, don’t go in. Also, if you meet an old man at a store or gas station that looks abandoned, heed his warnings and listen to his tales of forgotten lore.”

“Of course, Olliegator,” Serena laughed. “Lexie told me she’s taking you and Alex on a Haunted Hollywood tour. Remember, after coming home from those places－”

“When in doubt, sage it out,” Olivia recited the advice she had heard countless times. “We’re gonna leave now. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Ollie Koalie.”

Serena felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders when she hung up the phone. Her Ollie was having fun with her aunt and uncle and Alex. Olivia was going to be okay, just like she was going to be okay.

“Feel better?” Jamie asked. “Is our Ollie okay?”

“She’s okay,” Serena responded. “I think I am, too.”

Serena thought back to their first time last Halloween. It was raw and animalistic, the result of six months of pent-up sexual tension between the two of them. Jamie had her against the wall, on her back, on all fours, and on her knees. But none of that felt right for their first time as a married couple.

Her wife was ready for her as was evident by the bulge in her boxer brief harness that Serena was able to feel between her legs now that Jamie was on top of her. Jamie was playfully nibbling on her neck, putting her at ease. The deeper they got into their relationship, the more loving and even playful sex had become between the two of them. The passion was there, the attraction was there, but Serena felt as if what they did was no longer performative. They could be themselves and focus on each other instead of focusing on an image.

Jamie propped herself up on her elbows, which was one of Serena’s favorite positions for her to be in so she could feel more skin-to-skin contact and nearly the full weight of Jamie’s body on her. She looked down at Serena before leaning in to kiss her. “I love you so much,” she said in a tone that Serena found reassuring. “If you ever want me to stop anything I’m doing, just tell me.” But she didn’t have to tell her. Sometimes she didn’t have the nerve to tell her and Jamie could just see it in her eyes. Her wife could read her better than anyone.

Jamie slowly kissed her way down her body, stopping when she reached her white panties with ‘Mrs. Castillo’ printed on them. “Have I ever told you that my name looks good on you?”

“Several times,” Serena responded. “And it makes me roll my eyes every time you say it.”

Serena’s legs were spread and bent at the knee, giving Jamie access to kiss her on her inner thighs. “I guess I can’t say it anymore because it’s our name now and not just mine. I’m also sorry I didn’t notice these earlier, but when your wife comes out with Freddy Krueger gloves covering her breasts, your eyes just shift to that instead.” Serena felt Jamie tug at the waistband of her undies and slide them off. “As good as they look on you, you don’t need these right now.”

When Jamie flung them to the side, Serena was reminded of an incident that happened a few weeks after their first time. “Do you remember that time you flung my underwear and we couldn’t find it?”

“And my roommate found it the next morning?” Jamie added. “Yeah, how could I forget that?”

“But it was nothing even remotely sexy like I wore the first couple of times,” Serena laughed. “They were my cotton boybriefs with Rainbow Brite and Starlite on them. In my defense, I didn’t know I was getting laid that night. When you said, ‘Serena, come hang out,’ I thought we were actually going to hang out like you hang out with the guys.”

“That explains the hoodie and jeans you wore,” Jamie quipped. “I tried to be good, kind of like I’m trying right now, but my focus is on my favorite freckle of yours.”

Serena remembered the first time Jamie discovered her favorite freckle, one located near her clit that immediately became Jamie’s favorite spot to kiss like she was in that moment. The back and forth and casual banter had eased her nervousness and, although that banter had stopped and she was open and physically vulnerable, her nervousness was still gone and she was able to enjoy every movement of her wife’s tongue.

“I bought you something,” Jamie said, picking her head up and wiping Serena’s wetness from her mouth.

“Later,” Serena insisted, feeling slightly frustrated with her wife.

“Trust me, you’ll want this now.” Her gift was a vibrator that nestled comfortably over Serena’s clit. “Just a little helper because I can’t touch you where I want to when I’m on top.” Jamie used the remote to turn it on one of the lower settings.

Serena pulled Jamie close so she could kiss her, the feeling of the vibrator on her clit and the taste of herself on Jamie’s tongue sending her into overdrive. When Jamie turned up the intensity of the vibrator, she couldn’t help moaning into her wife’s mouth.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Jamie insisted. Serena felt her wife enter her first with one finger before slowly interesting another when she felt Serena had adjusted. She was tight, she knew she was. She always clenched her muscles when Jamie first entered her, but the more she pumped her fingers in and out of her, the more relaxed she became. She could hear how wet she was and she reveled in the feeling of having Jamie inside of her －the first, last, and only woman to be so intimate with her.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Jamie told her as she increased the speed that she was pumping her fingers in and out of her. Serena knew what Jamie wanted. She wanted her cock buried deep inside her. She knew Jamie wanted to fuck her hard and rough; she wanted to claim her.

“Jay,” Serena moaned. She couldn’t get the words out but Jamie knew exactly what she needed.

Serena grabbed the warming lubricant from on top of the nightstand and rubbed it on Jamie’s clit, the feeling of Jamie’s wetness making her throb even more. The warming lubricant had been Serena’s idea the first time they went toy shopping together. It was meant to heighten the sensation for Jamie and make her feel like she was actually inside Serena when the base of the toy rubbed against her clit.

Jamie positioned herself in between Serena’s legs, teasing her entrance as she turned up the intensity of the vibrator enough to make Serena moan even louder. “Jamie, fuck…”

“Is that an order?” Jamie asked and then realized Serena was less than pleased with her question. She entered Serena with just the tip and slowly went deeper, allowing Serena to adjust to being so filled.

“Come here. I want to look into your eyes.”

When she knew Serena was ready, Jamie began to thrust deep and hard into her. She had once wanted soft and sensual but Jamie had awakened that need inside of her. “You look so hot when you’re being fucked, Ser.” She knew the deeper Jamie went, the more she could feel the base press against her clit, so Serena wrapped her legs around her wife’s waist to make her go deeper. “You feel so good.”

With Jamie now propped up on her elbows, Serena ran her fingers down her back. Her caresses were gentle until she felt her wife fuck her harder and faster. Her nails dug into the skin on Jamie’s back and she felt herself tighten around her cock. “Jamie, keep fucking me, baby. Don’t stop.”

She felt the toy rubbing against her g spot, the vibrator pulsating on her clit, and the sound of her wife moaning in her ear. One more thrust as Jamie sucked on her neck proved to be her undoing with Jamie’s orgasm following just a few seconds behind her.

“I love you,” Serena told her as Jamie nuzzled into her neck. “I’ve never felt so connected to anyone before.”

“I’m literally still inside you,” Jamie teased. “We’re very connected right now.”

Serena playfully smacked her arm. “Now it’s my turn to be done with you.”

“You can’t be,” Jamie responded. “You’re stuck with me for the next 50 or 60 years and I couldn’t be happier about that. I love you, Serena Castillo. One thing, though…”

“Hmm?”

“With the way you were clawing at my back, I’m really grateful you took off your Freddy Krueger gloves.”

#jerena #alex and liv: the wonder years

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