#kyle crick

[baseballjerseynumbers]

Spring Training:

Tomás Nido assigned 3

José Iglesias assigned 11

Ben Gamel assigned 21

Trayce Thompson assigned 43

Cole Sulser assigned 45

Yacksel Ríos assigned 49

Chad Smith assigned 53

Austin Adams assigned 54

Kyle Crick assigned 55

Taylor Kohlwey assigned 57

Rylan Bannon assigned 58

Danny Young assigned 81

Austin Allen assigned 82

Yolmer Sánchez assigned 83

[shotmrmiller]

simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.

he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?

the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.

the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.

it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."

what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—

it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.

what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.

"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."

violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.

simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.

"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.

clearly more than a passing fancy.

"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.

"he's not hungry."

cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.

johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?

you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.

even the plate it's on is cute.

"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."

johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."

he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.

(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)

[corporatefrog]

꒦‧₊ ꒷ HEADCANNONS: Going on a Road Trip with Kyle, Kenny, Stan, and Butters (Separately) ✧.*

✧.* tags: college au, road trips, ✧.* Charactions: kyle broflovski, stan marsh, kenny mccormick, butters scotch a/n: I drove home to visit family this weekend and the 5 hours drive always drags. so i made up driving buddies to pass the time lol masterlist

Kyle

He definitely drives. Not because he prefers driving but because he refuses the thought of someone else being in control of the car that isn’t his mom (sheila is def a crazy driver but he’s desensitized)

He’s a good driver though. ALWAYS uses a turn signal, even if there isn’t a car behind you

“Kyle we haven’t seen anyone for 20 minutes, why are you using your blinker to change lanes”

“Well i thought i saw headlights in my rearview”

“That’s the stoplight we just passed-”

I feel like he’d love a good road trip. Airports are too stressful and driving means you can chit chat and get actual food and not hear a baby screaming for 3 hours

PODCAST LISTENER

He’s got at least 5 episodes downloaded depending on the genre you want

Like listening to commentary or informative podcasts so you guys can talk about them together

“So I downloaded a podcast about the history of Jeoprady and a few episodes of a JK Rowling audio- documentary- thing.”

“Have I told you that you are the best person ever” 

“Yeah, but you could tell me again”

Kenny

LOVES ROAD TRIPS!

Blasting music! Head out the window! Going 85 on a 55 back road! Let him in the car!

Prefers to be a passenger so he can be silly without risking the car crashing

He always has to stop for snacks at the beginning so you can munch on the way (and because gas station snacks are the absolute best) 

“Corn nuts?”

“Check”

“Bugles?”

“Check”

“Muddie Buddies?”

“Double check”

He’s got a mega playlist full of both of your favorite car jams that he updates regularly 

Definitely a ton of Black Eyed Peas

And some tyler the creator too probably

If you’re going on a longer trip, he is OUT after 4 hours

Absolutely drooling, head turned to a weird angle that’ll give him a huge crick in the neck once he’s up, but god DAMN is a restful

He’s up in 45 minutes and ready to party some more

If you’re driving through the night, he likes to stop and pull to the side of the road so you can look at the stars

And so he can piss

Stan

Give him aux or he will cry

Whereas kenny knows the difference between car vibe music and home vibe music, stan does not

Bro definitely put every fall out boy song EVER on there

Which like, you’re not complaining. 

He probably likes to switch drivers every few hours so you both can take a break and enjoy the drive.

He prefers being the passenger though, he likes staring out the window and unfocusing his eyes so everything blurs together

Probably enjoys flights a bit more honestly

“I mean, it’s like 2 hours and you’re there!”

“2 hours + 1 for getting to the airport + 2 for getting through security + 1 for waiting to board + 1 for landing” 

“Yeah and??? You don’t have to drive??”

Randy probably had a shit ton of frequent flier miles for some reasons so the marshs were a flying family for sure. 

Butters

Passenger princess.

Give him a blanket PLEASE

Whenever you stop for gas, he finds the BEST trinkets

“Look at this air freshener I found! It smells like honeysuckle! Can we put it in the car for the rest of the drive?” 

Likes to having music playing low so it’s just in the background while you guys talk

Definitely brings mad libs

“Okay can i have an adjective”

“Uh,,, Smelly >:)”

Bro starts GIGGLING 

He’d like to go on the drive just to play road trip games with you

Doesn’t know how pumping gas works

“YN!! You have to stop the gas!”

“What do you mean butters, the tank isn’t full”

“But it’ll overflow if you just let it keep going!”

“What-”

The sweetest driving buddy ever

[syoddeye]

passenger 🚗

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

His words push through the haze of sleep, curling in your ear, comforting where your neck's cricked.

"Where are we?" You slur, stretching in the passenger seat.

Kyle ignores the question, "You snore, 's cute."

Eyes clearing, you stiffen. Nothing looks familiar.

----

Based off this idea I shared about a hitchiker!Gaz.

[xdarkhowlx]

Raiju, where the hell you been, loca?

TIMING: Shortly after the cemetery incident with Van and Nora. LOCATION: Midnight Drive-In PARTIES: @xdarkhowlx and @bountyhaunter SUMMARY: Kyle and Daiyu try to enjoy their movie. They're interrupted by a real-life Pokémon. CONTENT WARNING: gun use

The mere idea of a Twilight marathon was enough to gain Kyle’s attention. The viewing being at Midnight Drive-in only piqued his interest further. An emo cinema icon, in an iconic format. What more could he ask for? Of course, he had to be parked behind the one truck to block his view. The owner of the truck sat atop the vehicle instead of inside, which put her at just the right height to obscure his view. At first, he decided not to say anything. He figured out quickly that if he leaned out his window a little, and craned his neck, he could see much better. This was fine for a while, but his favorite scene was approaching and he was beginning to get a crick in his neck. He debated just moving his car, but that seemed inconvenient at best, not to mention inconsiderate. He weighed his options briefly, before deciding he had no choice but to ask the truck owner to move. 

With a drawn out sigh, Kyle stepped out of his Jeep and approached the truck parked in front of him. “Hey,” he called, trying not to interrupt the movie for anyone. “Could you maybe actually get off of your truck? I can’t really see past you, and the baseball scene is coming up.” A stranger on their truck would not ruin the scene for him. 

—

Maybe it was sad, how big an accomplishment this was to Daiyu. But she’d never done something like this — a neighborhood initiative. Most of the time her ‘initiatives’ involved causing a ruckus and accidentally lighting a trash can. Besides, she never tended to tie herself to places and so to organize something like this rather than just watch the bad movies at home was something. But it had been a funny idea that had snowballed into something real and now here she was, sitting on top of her truck cross-legged. She wasn’t doing it to be rude — she just wasn’t thinking. 

So when someone approached her about it and she was pulled out of her focus on the movie, she felt the urge to apologize and then, immediately after it, the inner demand that she shouldn’t. “Can’t see it well through my window, though,” she said simply, giving him a glance before looking up again. In the distance the sky rumbled. Whether it was another quake, the movie’s audio being very good or a storm coming, she didn’t know, but it barely mattered.  Something tugged in her stomach and she wondered what it was – this guy, or one of the other people surrounding them. She couldn’t go a day without having something in her body go off, though, so she tried to ignore it. She was here for the movie, not for her hunting instincts. Daiyu sighed, straightening her legs and sliding down her window onto the hood of her car. The window held, much to her relief. (She had wanted to look cool and totally had.) “There. Better? Don’t wanna ruin your Supermassive Black Hole needledrop.”

—

Can’t see it well through my window, was a flimsy excuse in Kyle’s eyes. He frowned. “Better clean your windows, bestie,” he said. His ears pricked at the sound of thunder. He hoped it wouldn’t be a storm. His dad complained when he came home smelling like wet dog. On the other hand, that would make for a wicked cool backdrop for the rest of the flick. 

Kyle’s smile returned at the Supermassive Black Hole comment. “Hey,” he said, raising his hands in mock defense. “You can’t tell me it’s not the most iconic scene in the first movie.” He shrugged, looking from the stranger to the screen. “Alice and Jasper in the baseball scene were a crucial part of my bisexual awakening.” Looking back to the stranger, something clicked for Kyle. “Hey, aren’t you the one who, like, organized all this?” In the distance, thunder rumbled again. Maybe that background storm would pop off after all.

—

She glared at the other and his unwarranted advice. “Clean your own windows,” she retorted, which made no sense but was still a very good comeback. Better than pointing out that she was in the forest a lot and that keeping her windows clean was a sisyphean task. She didn’t know what the word sisyphean meant, anyway. 

Daiyu let out a chuckle. Even if this person had come to complain, he made a good point. “It absolutely is. Banger soundtrack, Alice being an icon, et cetera. I’m not going to lie, I know Vic is a villain and all but she was a crucial part in my gay awakening.” She shot a look at the screen, where Esme was talking to Bella. It wasn’t very important. “Hell yeah I am. I also organized the thunder, actually. Talked to the weather gods and everything to make it fit the mood.” She hadn’t, but she liked having bragging rights. As if on cue, there was a flash of lightning. Two seconds, and then a roar of thunder. “You’re welcome.”

—

Oh, so it was like that. “My windows are clean,” Kyle contested with a grand gesture at his clean, albeit cracked, windshield. “I just can’t see through people on top of trucks.” He wasn’t actually upset, mostly inconvenienced. His car didn’t have the height benefit of a truck. If he sat on top of his car, he figured he probably still wouldn’t be tall enough to see.

“You’re into gingers?” he said, sounding critical. After a moment’s pause, he nodded in approval. “Good taste.” The well timed thunder sent a shiver down Kyle’s spine. “Wow, impressive.” He gazed up at the sky, half expecting the rain to start, too. “You’ll have to show me your raindance, eh? Teach me what the weather taught you.” Glancing back at his car, Kyle started to excuse himself back to the movie, but he was drowned out by another rip of thunder. He could almost feel it in his chest. Another flash of lightning arched across the sky and connected with the ground somewhere in the distance. He could almost see where it flickered just beyond the farthest cars from where they stood. It was too close for comfort. Kyle let out a whoop. “Your storm is shaping up to be something.”

—

“Mine are clean too,” she retorted easily. She was very good at these kinds of endless exchanges, the back and forth, the yes-no, did not-did too’s of the world. Spending a youth with two older siblings did do that to a person. “Well, you should get x-ray vision, then. Next time, that is. I’m down now.”

Daiyu wondered if he’d slam her for liking the villain as he critiqued her. Logically, she should despise Victoria the most — she was the kind of vampire that required putting down by slayer or even a skilled ranger. But she’d liked her, because it was all nonsense. “Yeah,” she said, nodding fervently. “I’m known for my amazing taste, you should follow me o—” Her self promotion was cut in half as the lightning crashed through the sky again. She looked up, impressed at what the sky was capable of. “Damn.” She was a little impressed with herself before remembering she hadn’t actually caused the storm. 

As her eyes traveled from the sky to the screen something caught her eye. It was lightning, but not quite in the way lightning tended to travel. It was like a ball passing past the treeline behind the screen. Another roar of thunder crashed through the sky and this time there were no flashes of light in the sky — just the creature. “Shit.” Daiyu glared at the creature, then rolled off her truck and rushed to her passenger seat door and swung it over. She eyed the other person from the other side. “Hey, yo — you should get the fuck out of here.” She pointed up. “Weather. Bad.”

___

“Then why— y’know what? Forget it. Thanks for moving.” Kyle wanted to argue back, but there was no real point to it. He could already tell he was being wound up just to end up chasing his tail. Metaphorically, of course. “I’ll work on being a little more Clark Kent and a little less Lois.”

Kyle followed the stranger’s gaze up toward the sky as the first couple notes of Supermassive Black Hole began. Shit, he was gonna miss it anyway. “Woo, good job on that timing,” he said, cracking a smile and taking a few steps back. But the mood had changed suddenly. The stranger was distracted. Her focus was elsewhere. Again, Kyle tried to figure out where she was looking. He could see that flickering lightning low at the ground again, but this time it was closer. As he was urged to leave, he didn’t look away from it. The lightning seemed to bend around something; it was vaguely animal shaped, and coming closer. 

“What the hell?” he thought aloud. He looked between the electrified animal and his new acquaintance. She looked tense, maybe even a little worried. “What is that? Is that like—like a generator? A power box? Should I call the fire department? I mean, I can—“ He was cut off by another rip of thunder, with no accompanying lightning. The beast seemed to light up brighter at that and Kyle stepped around the truck to stand beside the other movie goer. “This might be outside of the fire department’s jurisdiction,” he posited.

—

Once, a long time ago, Daiyu had asked her father if she’d been named after raiju. He’d not liked the question, as it was his late wife who’d chosen their youngest name. Besides, the idea that a ranger’s name could be inspired by a beast was absolutely unacceptable, and he’d made that very clear. That hadn’t stopped her brother from calling her one, especially when she was throwing a tantrum. Storm’s coming!, he’d yell, mimicking the sound of thunder.

But whatever kinship she felt with the beasts was ignored in the face of the situation at hand. There was a storm. There were multiple people sitting in metal cars that would become death traps if touched by the raiju. There was the baseball scene still playing, too — and she couldn’t even give it her full attention. She pulled a crossbow from under the passenger seat, grabbing a set of bolts with her other hand. The human – was he human? – was talking and Daiyu popped her head up, staring at him.

She wasn’t very good at this. “Do not call them,” she said. A firetruck was an even bigger death trap. Water would make everything worse. She’d gotten electrocuted by a raiju before – years and years ago – and she didn't recommend it. “You need to – fuck!” She cursed, realizing the impossible way the cars were parked as she glanced around. Daiyu felt frustration rise, the white hot anger that so often cradled her but also sometimes rendered her useless. She could not give into it now, with all these people. (Maybe the person in the woods was right, maybe she was a protector – or wanted to be, anyway.) 

She glanced at the screen, where Edward was running through the forest. The raiju seemed bothered by the noises. Dread rose. She threw a look at the other person. “We need to take it out. I need to – you should —” She was no good with words and just started to make a run for the creature, synchronizing with the Cullen’s as she left her car door open, leaving her arsenal open for the picking. 

 —-

Watching from across the truck, Kyle tossed his hands up defensively as the crossbow was withdrawn. “Easy, cvpon,” he said. “Maybe we should just chill out with the weapons. What are you gonna do? Shoot the electricity? Fuck’s sake.” If he wasn’t supposed to call the fire department, what was there for him to do? He glanced around at the cars surrounding them. Maybe someone had a fire extinguisher in the boot of their car. His new acquaintance cursed and he snapped his attention back to her. All he’d wanted to do was watch a classic film from the comfort of his car. Now, he was caught up in something he didn’t quite understand. 

Coming to this town had been one strange experience after another. Goo, and crystals, and werewolves—now a trigger happy Twilight enthusiast going after a moving ball of electricity. Kyle opened his mouth to protest further, but before he could get much out, she was running off. “I just don’t think— wait! Wait, where are you going?” He cursed under his breath and ran around the truck to at least close the door. What he found inside wasn’t exactly expected. There were knives and ammunition of a few different calibers, as well as a hunting rifle sitting ripe for the taking. Kyle looked over his shoulder at the stranger running headlong into battle, then to the screen where Jasper and Alice whisked Bella to safety. Wouldn’t that be too easy. He glanced back at the stranger, then the rifle. “Fuck.” He grabbed the rifle, fumbled with ammunition, and took off towards the electrified mass.

“Hold up!” Kyle called. He was immediately shushed by fellow movie goers as he dashed between cars and called out again. “I’m coming with you!” He flipped the bird at a particularly upset man in a Kia. “Don’t yell at me, I’m trying to save the day, bruh!”

—-

It was good that humans didn’t know about all the shit that lurked in the shadows. Real good, as it meant they got to live life in ignorance without worrying about being eaten by werewolves or vampires or being trapped by weird grass or sand. Daiyu envied them sometimes. But right now, she thought regular humans were very annoying. None of them were seeing the ball of lightning as a threat and worse, the guy who did see her shooting into action telling her to chill.

She didn’t have the time or tact to explain the situation, which was why she just ran. She tended to hunt alone, anyway — and maybe this time it would be with an unwanted and annoyed audience, but hey. She wasn’t going to see all these cars go bzzzt with electricity and the people’s skeletons light up when they did. If that was even real. The guy was following her and at least it confirmed something: he was the cause for the tug in her stomach.

Fucking awesome. A shifter was helping her kill some beast. 

“Alright, okay, cool, that’s awesome and also great!” Maybe the shifter knew something about raijus. Or maybe he was just … stupidly brave. Which Daiyu didn’t want, because those were qualities she liked in people. She ignored all the protests from viewers (even if it was very nice that people were this passionate about Twilight in 2024!) and jumped on the hood of one of the cars in front to get a good look. She whipped her head around, her ponytail smacking her in the face. “Do not get too close.” She noted the rifle – her rifle – in his hands. Well, good. As long as she got it back. “It’s gonna shock you if you do. Yeah? How’s your aim?” She whipped her head back, the cacophony of sound – movie, yelling moviegoers, storm, someone eating popcorn with their mouth open – made her dizzy but she tugged at the sound and made it one large hum of noise as she attempted to take her aim.

—

The closer they got, the more the creature took shape. Kyle figured it mostly resembled a dog, you know, if dogs went Super Saiyan. That would be a show he’d watch. Dragon Ball Z, but they’re all dogs? Focus, Kyle. He could daydream about anime when he wasn’t in imminent danger of being barbecued. He came up next to Daiyu, mouth agape as he looked at the dog. “I’m gonna have so many questions after this,” he whispered, glancing at Daiyu. He didn’t know if the dog could hear them, but if its hearing was anything like his, it definitely would. 

“Don’t get too close, don’t get shocked, don’t die. Got it,” Kyle replied. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the ball of lightning, but it was getting hard to look at, like looking into the sun. He blinked hard and steadied himself. He drew the rifle and scoffed at the question. “How’s my aim? You think I would pick up a gun if I wasn't pretty confident I could use it? I’ll follow your lead.” He had hunted back in Canada with his cousins. He knew how to take down a deer, or any manner of wild fowl, and even coyotes if the situation called for it. This was probably like coyotes, if the coyotes could decimate the power grid. Simple. 

After a moment, he looked at his new partner in crime—or maybe partner in justice was a better title. “I’m Kyle, by the way. I just figure we should know each other’s names in case we, y’know…” He made a cut throat gesture paired with sound effects.

——

At least the shifter was down to clown — or, like, kill a raiju. Even if he didn’t know what it was. Daiyu tried to shrug off the comment about having to explain what was going on, as that was the part of hunterisms she was worst at, but she offered a quick look and a random thumbs up. “Gotcha!” Which was not a promise or an agreement, but just something to say so she could go on with her purpose.

Which was … what, exactly? Hadn’t she decided to make her code be as simple as the local bounty board? To be moved by money, not by considerations of morality or heroism. Still — even if she wasn’t going to catch any coin for this, could she just let the people die? It wasn’t something worth pondering about. It was simple. Almost as simple as picking a random bounty from the board and going for it so she could pay her rent. These people were in death traps without knowing it. Daiyu wanted to watch her movie without people dying. 

“I don’t know, people are pretty stupid when it comes to guns,” she responded, before offering her name as well: “Daiyu! You’re a —” She changed her mind halfway, deciding it better to not ask what kind of shifter the other is. “Not going to die.” She swished her head towards the raiju, squinting one eye close and taking aim. Soon enough her finger pushed the trigger and her bolt shot towards the lightning creature, piercing its hind thigh.

—

Kyle was satisfied with the thumbs up as a clear promise to fill him in if neither of them died. He was pretty sure that the stranger–Daiyu, as she identified herself–knew what she was doing. Otherwise she was doing a damn fine job pretending. The thought gave him a moment’s pause. Was she pretending? Was Kyle about to be on the bad side of killing a creature like him? The thing didn’t seem to have any sense of rationality, as it was actively walking into a minefield of sitting duck humans. But then, Kyle couldn’t call himself rational when he shifted. He had never taken issue with hunting before. Each animal gave its life for the greater picture. That was simple. It was nature. But where did he, a werewolf, fit into the greater picture? It was never something he’d considered. 

As the creature’s leg was struck, a shower of sparks burst around it. He flinched, abandoning the existential crisis for later. It would keep him up every night this week, but it wasn’t important now. The sparks and crackles from the beast reminded Kyle of a transformer exploding. Like live wires, the beast writhed in pain for a moment. In that same moment, the storm above them roared some of the loudest thunder he had ever heard. It left his ears ringing. Werewolf hearing be damned. The creature recovered itself, and charged in their direction. Beginning to back up, the rifle snapped up as Kyle reflexively took aim. “Aim where they’re going, not where they’ve been,” he murmured to himself, and lined up his shot. A crack rang out, and another shower of sparks rained down around the animal, halting its approach. He breathed a steadying sigh, and smirked at his new accomplice. “Nice to meet you, Daiyu.”

—

Frustration rippled through her, a familiar yet always unpleasant sensation, as her bolt did not pierce the creature through the heart or head but rather its legs. It was fine, she could have just used the immobility to fire another shot. But there was an audience, kind of. There was a hunting partner, which was really not her speed. And the hunting partner – Kyle, the shapeshifter – had a gun and that guy managed to get the killing shot in. The sparks were a welcome distraction, though, a large rain of them sprinkling around the screen. And then, it was done. No more sparks, no more rumbling thunder that came from the creature — just a still corpse.

Daiyu was still for a moment, disregarding Kyle the shifter and staring at the dead body before sliding down the hood of the strangers’ car. She patted it awkwardly before approaching the beast. If she was a hunter with a code to protect humans and keep them ignorant – which she wasn’t – she should get rid of the body. She gave a something to Kyle, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it was. A scowl, a grin, a smirk. “Yeah, man, that was a great shot. Nice to meet you.” He got the killing shot. He had her gun. And she’d … really made a mess of whatever it was she’d tried to do here. She extended a grabby hand. “Can I get that back?” The rifle, she meant. “So you … whatever. I’m gonna clean up.”

—-

He followed Daiyu to the dead beast, approaching it cautiously. It was certainly dead, but Kyle wasn’t sure if it still held a charge. “Sorry to steal your shine,” he said, passing the rifle back as asked. He couldn’t tell exactly what emotion she was feeling, but he got the impression that it was directly linked to the final blow. “My family is big on hunting. I’ve been going on hunting trips practically since before I could walk. I know my way around a rifle.” Maybe his experience would assuage whatever emotions were going through her head. He wasn’t some inexperienced punk rolling in off the street. He was a well-versed punk.

Looking over the body, Kyle grimaced. Up close it looked even more like just some unfortunate dog. Again, that guilt he’d never felt before tugged at his stomach. Was he so much different than this dog? “Okay,” he said, turning his attention on Daiyu. “Now is the part where you answer my questions. Like what the fuck just happened? Do you do this often?” Having just handed the rifle over into her hands, he shook his head. “Scratch that last one, I don’t need to know. How did you know what that was?” 

—-

She wanted to burst out laughing at the notion. Not that Kyle the shifter was apologizing for stealing her shine, as that was very bothersome because she felt very seen, but that he said that his family was big on hunting. Daiyu wondered what that meant, but didn’t want to pry. She didn’t recognize the other and that meant she hadn’t seen him on the board, which meant there was no good reason to pry. “Oh, awesome. Yeah, my family’s like that I guess too, you know? Hunting elk and pheasants and stuff.”

She took the gun back from him. It was getting harder and harder to ignore all the sounds around them so she trudged forward towards the dead creature. It looked almost like something normal, but she knew better than to just leave it there. “Well,” she said, “We just killed a lightning creature. That could have made all these cars go –” She made a crackling sound with her mouth, followed by a booom. “Oh, I just know. You know? Some people know how to do math. I know how about weird shit.” Like how the other person was a shifter. “Like you and anyone else in this town doesn’t.” She slung the rifle over her shoulder after flicking the safety on and then crouched down at the raiju. “We should get it away from here.”

—-

“Yeah, elk, deer–hell, squirrels if you can get ‘em.” Kyle nodded in agreement, bonding over their shared hunting skill. He wanted to tell her to not let her nerves get to her next time, genuinely wanting to be of assistance. But something told him that would not be received as intended, and he was okay letting it drop. “I used to go out with the uncles, and then my cousins when we were old enough. Family traditions and whatever.” He waved his train of thought away with his hand. This was a stranger, and she didn’t need the specifics of his upbringing. Especially when he had more questions.

He looked from the carcass to the cars, nodding slowly. As he’d pictured in his head, it would be absolute chaos, carnage, and bloodshed. “Good thing you were here, then,” Kyle affirmed. “I might know how to use a gun, but you provided it for me. Which brings me to another question; why are you driving around strapped like that? You get in trouble a lot?” It was another question he didn’t really want the answer to. He was connecting some dots, and the image he was piecing together unsettled him. What if she killed all sorts of creatures? What if she found out he was a werewolf? Would she kill him, too? Or did he need to present himself as a threat first? Those questions he left unsaid. 

Kyle wanted to protest to her that he knew more than he let on. But to do so was a tricky needle to thread, so he simply nodded. “I’m learning.” It was the truth. He’d learned about werebears, and maybe cemetery spirits. He’d heard talk of vampires and zombies, though he hadn’t ascertained if those were real or not. Now, he was learning about real life Pokémon. Kyle crouched beside her, looking down at the sad little coyote. It was much less threatening when it wasn’t actively sparking. “You need help carrying Jolteon here?” 

—

Hunters were traditionally meant to keep humans safe and separate from the supernatural world, but the Volkovs had lost that traditional and honorable cause a long time ago. A higher purpose was so easily translated into something uglier — like the divine right of kings, for example. So Daiyu didn’t do this often and Daiyu didn’t fucking know what to do. Especially because this guy wasn’t human, or at least not fully, or not all the time. So what did it mean when he said he hunted with his family? Were they a bunch of sirens, chasing prey, or bugbears? Or did they hold up human traditions despite being something else? Or was he unfortunately cursed with a werewolf’s bite?

The thoughts were dizzying. “Yeah, same here. Hunting trips with the fam, what a time,” she said off-handedly. Daiyu glanced at Kyle, then back at the raiju. It would be little issue to carry it, with her hunter strength. Should she still be trying not to come off as a ranger, though? Or was that too little too late? She chewed on her cheek as his question bounced around her head. “Nah, I usually am the trouble.” Cheekiness seemed like a safe bet. “But yeah, whatever, I’m just someone who’s prepared for these kinds of things. I try to be more subtle about it usually, though.”

She took the hind legs of the creature, gesturing that he could take the other. A laugh left her lips at the mention of Jolteon. “Fuck.” She huffed. “That’s good. That’s — yeah, Jolteon, that’s right on the god damn nose. Let’s just take –” Her eyes scanned their surroundings, the angry people in their cars. It’d be best to store the creature in her car until she could find a proper way to dispose of it, but to walk it past all those moviegoers was asking for trouble. “Into the woods. Hide it for now.”

—

The mention of her own hunting trips brought forth yet another question that Kyle couldn’t keep from tumbling out of his mouth. “When you say hunting, you mean the elk and not these—,” he looked down at the corpse, but without a real word for it, continued unsure. “These…monsters, right? That’s what this is, a monster?” Yet another question he didn’t want the answer to, but this time the need for it pressed him on. “You know, since you’re so prepared for anything.” He gestured with his chin to the rifle she now held. 

Kyle shouldn’t be prying, not here in the middle of a movie, not with Kristen Stewart monologuing in the background. But hunters were a fairly novel idea. He hadn’t thought they were real, just more fairytale fodder. Like werewolves. It felt stupid to admit to himself that he hadn’t once worried about being hunted down for the crime of being bitten. The very idea made the hairs on the back of his neck raise. It wasn’t something he’d had to consider. The apartment he lived in was above a cryptid-themed souvenir shop, which, conveniently, had a basement for mostly storage of old junk, tools, and broken mannequins. The basement did a pretty good job of holding a bloodthirsty werewolf, and his dad being the building’s super was just the cherry on top of his cover story.

Kyle tried to keep his tone and his expression neutral. He didn’t want the skepticism of being predator and prey to cross his face and give him away as he danced carefully around the topic. “Sorry, Jolteon,” he said, trying to break some of the tension as he took the front legs of the animal and hoisted it with Daiyu. “Can’t catch ‘em all.” 

——

She stared at him, at his clumsy way of speaking, at the way he hesitated to name the raiju anything. Beast, monster, creature, pest, prey. So what was she supposed to say? That she hunted elk? She didn’t, she hated hunting regular animals. She found it — well, she didn’t try to pass judgment, as that started a whole moral debate in her head, but she found it something. “I mean, this is just a coyote with sparks,” she quipped. Daiyu lifted the creature up, wanting to tell the other to fuck off, but here she was. Doing teamwork again. With a shifter, again. 

She could feel it rise within her, the clumsiness. Her father hated this about her, the way she had no control over the things that came from her mouth. Not just because she was vulgar, but because she was too forward. Daiyu tried to press her lips together, to keep her from blurting something out, “But yes, a monster. I hunt monsters. What are you?” Her eyes slanted upwards and she cursed herself inside her head – something she did very commonly – before starting to move. She didn’t owe the other secrecy, because he wasn’t human, but she did owe herself secrecy, didn’t she? But it had to be clear by now what she was.

The pokémon references didn’t help. It made the other too damn likable. Daiyu kept trudging into the woods, the raiju swinging between them. (If pokémon were real, would she be hunting them? That would be really fucked up.) She grit her teeth and managed to not reply this time, for which she still cursed herself.

—

More questions pressed to the front of Kyle’s mind. Why was she so hesitant to confirm his suspicions that this Pokémon-from-Hell was a part of the weird shit? He knew it was supposed to be left unsaid, (he had heard enough from his grandmother,) but they had clearly passed that point when they took it down. A coyote with sparks didn’t satiate the need to understand what he’d just witnessed. His thoughts were beginning to race as his mouth tried to form multiple questions at a time. How much of the oddities of Wicked’s Rest had she known? Would she have answers about werebears, too? Shit, did she know more about werewolves than Kyle? He thought of those questions as off of the table. Surely he couldn’t just ask–

What are you? The question hit him like a crossbow bolt of lightning between the eyes. Every hair on his body stood at attention. “Um.” He floundered for a moment, grasping for any words to respond. He almost tripped over his own feet and dropped the stupid–monster. If this dog was a monster, was that what Daiyu was looking for? For Kyle to admit to being a monster? Was that what he was to her? His stomach felt like a stone falling through him. “Could you be more specific with that, uh, question? Please?”

—

Her hunting training hadn’t covered this. Truth be told, her training hadn’t covered a lot of communication techniques, unless you considered the best ways to trick shifters or interrogation tactics as such. Daiyu felt frustration fly through her system, heard Vissa yell something about a storm coming as her face turned a little stormy. There was at least the creature between them, a good distraction from how the other fumbled with his reply to her forward question.

“Whatever,” she said, “I’m not gonna hunt you.” He wasn’t on the board. Besides, he’d helped. Her sister would talk this guy into the woods and prod and poke until he’d reveal his true nature and then slit his throat, to trick the shifter the way she’d been taught. But Daiyu didn’t want to hunt this guy, and it was only because he wasn’t on the board. No ulterior motive. It wasn’t because of the weeping heart in her chest that her sister Inna had chastised all her life. Just because there was no point in it. (The Raiju hadn’t been on the board, either, but somehow that distinction wasn’t made.) “But like … snake? Wolf? Bird? What are you?”

—

I’m not gonna hunt you, was all the confirmation Kyle needed. He was on the menu, so to speak. Maybe not to Daiyu, maybe not now, but to someone out there. It took him a beat to grapple with his new place on the proverbial food chain before he could get anything out. “Wait,” he said, immediately derailing once more. “There’s weresnakes and werebirds? I mean, fuck, it makes sense, you know, I’ve heard about the little people all my life, but I oonly knew about the bears and the wolves.” There were dozens of questions he had about the other shifters. Like, did the birds follow the same rules? Were they bound to the sun rather than the moon? Could you get bit by a snake and get turned into a snake? Even if the snake was venomous? Was it like Spider-Man, and the venom is what turned you into the snake? He set aside the questions for later (and maybe for Google).

Licking his lips and shrugging, Kyle replied, “I guess I’m the wolf variety.” He clicked his teeth and continued, “Shtah, I feel stupid being at a fuckin’ Twilight viewing and admitting this, man.” 

— 

Oh, shit. This was not the first time her big mouth had talked too fast and too much. Daiyu assumed that shifters all knew about each other, that they had some kind of big shifter text chain where they talked about eating humans and shedding issues, but maybe werewolves were excluded from that. “Yeah! Those totally exist too,” she said, nodding. It would be strange if lamia and sirens only transformed during the full moon, but probably better for society and humanity as a whole. 

She let out a huff of amusement, looking over her shoulder at the drive in behind them as she kept walking further into the woods. “Nah, it’s cool. It’s fun. I like these movies ‘cus of it.” There was something about watching bad movies about the supernatural that made Daiyu feel comforted. It was why she’d watched all of the Vampire Diaries multiple times — but mostly just the first three seasons. “Little bit stupid for telling me though.” She dropped the raiju to the ground. “Kidding.”

—-

Fueled with knowledge, Kyle couldn’t keep his mouth from running. “You probably have so much knowledge on all this stuff, right? I mean, probably more than me. Definitely more than me.” That felt like a mistake to admit as soon as he’d said it. He didn’t want to come off as inexperienced or ignorant. Worse yet, he didn’t want to come off as a problem. “There’s no real guidebook for all of this. Lot of trial and error and error and error,” he amended with a toothy grin. “It’s,” he gestured vaguely to the space around them, “all about learning and shit, though, right?” Maybe that didn’t help his case, but he’d rather be somewhat honest with the hunter. She had given him her word. She wouldn’t hunt him.

“As far as werewolves go, it’s bad,” Kyle mused. He had a lot to say on the topic, but kept it succinct for now. His head snapped up at the joke threat, but he relaxed when he realized she wasn’t serious. Cracking a grin, he huffed a laugh. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t have much experience with, uh, hunters. That’s what you’d call yourself, right?” He looked down at the animal at their feet. He almost wanted to ask what Daiyu planned to do with the pelt, but it didn’t seem particularly germane, given the circumstances. 

—-

If there was any way to appeal to Daiyu, it was by saying that she was better at something than someone else. And though this wasn’t something she was particularly proud of, it was still true. She was more knowledgeable than this stranger, “Yup! I know a lot. I’m pretty much a genius when it comes to this.” Compared to him, she certainly was. Compared to other hunters, especially her siblings … well, it wasn’t knowledge she’d ever excelled in. Reciting species’ weaknesses had always been something that tired her — she’d rather find out through just hitting them. “Guess you’re gonna have to find shit out, huh?”

It had to be hard to be a werewolf. At least most other shifters were raised amongst one another, were taught what they were and how they could use that against others. But bitten werewolves, they were just left to their own shitty devices. “Twilight’s a shit resource for sure. And um, yeah, yeah, hunters — maybe that’s coolest for you, right? Just stay outta trouble. Don’t eat people or whatever.” She considered their surroundings, the dead animal at their feet, and started to gather some twigs, sticks and leaves to cover up its white fur. “This one’s called a Raiju, FYI.”

—-

The urge to ask for more and more information wouldn’t die down inside Kyle. He didn’t want to come off as entirely ignorant, but the hunter said she was a genius when it came to this particular subject. “Alright, Encyclopedia Daiyu, I’ll have to have you teach me more about all this sometime,” he said, hoping she’d agree so he could flood her inbox later. “I think I have a lot to learn.” The admission felt like one of weakness rather than simple ignorance. The feeling didn’t sit well inside his chest. Exposing your belly to the enemy couldn’t be a smart move. He had to remind himself that she had said she wouldn’t hunt him. 

The comment about eating people had Kyle grimacing. He had shifted a handful of times outside the safety of his building’s basement walls, but he hadn’t eaten anyone. Had he? The thought made his stomach do a somersault. “I’m good on the not eating people.” He followed the hunter’s lead, covering the animal’s corpse with forest detritus. “Raiju. Ha, kinda rhymes with your name.” He didn’t want to make another Pokémon reference, lest she think of him as a nerd. But there was a Pokémon based on the creature before them. “Real life Pokémon,” he quipped, unable to keep his mouth shut.

—

The concept of her – a ranger – helping a werewolf was absolutely beyond her comprehension. The whole situation was hard to grasp in general, what with her hunting this creature out of some kind of feeling of duty, enlisting a shifter for help and standing here, still and without action. Daiyu swallowed, shrugged, “Whatever, man,” she said, which was non-committal and not an answer at all to his non-question. She didn’t deal with unshifted werewolves a lot — the most she saw of them was when they were feral and wild in the woods.

She felt something press in her skull. A headache. A moral quandary that she didn’t have the tools to solve. These days those were the same. “Neat. I mean, that’s kinda … not cool, you know. Guess that’s gonna get you … targeted. Anyway.” She frowned at the twigs and leaves. “Maybe. I’m not a good — I don’t help people.” She poured some sand over the dead creature, let out a huff of air. “Yeah, it does. And yeah, it is. I used to wonder if the creator of Pokémon like, knew of these kinda creatures.” She started wiping her hands on her trousers, looking up. “Good enough, I guess. There’s still … movie left.” She’d get the creature a proper hiding place later. She held out her hand, though didn’t specify if it was to get her weapons back or to have it shaken.

—

Kyle got the feeling that maybe he’d overstepped some invisible line he hadn’t known was there. Maybe befriending a hunter was reckless, even when she didn’t feel like a threat. At least, she hadn’t felt like a threat. Her deflection read as dismissive to Kyle. Perhaps he didn’t view her as a threat because she didn’t view him as a threat. Something unfamiliar tugged inside his gut. He wanted to be respected by her, not brushed aside. Part of him wanted the hunter to fear him. The thought felt almost out of place as soon as he’d thought it, but wasn’t it sort of true? Wasn’t he a beast to be feared? He huffed a chuckle to himself. That didn’t feel like it fit right, either. Better, but not exactly. “Yeah,” he said, after considering Daiyu’s words for a moment. “I’ll do my, uh, best, I guess.” He met her extended hand with his own, both passing her back the ammunition she’d lent, and shaking her hand at the same time. “For the record, I don’t help people either. One time Pokémon battle.” He turned back towards the screen, frowning at the movie. It didn’t feel worth it to stay. It didn’t feel worth it to leave either. He looked back to his new not-enemy. “Walk you back to your truck?”

—

There should be another bolt in her crossbow, aimed at the heart of the untransformed werewolf. This could be her easiest hunt of the year. But that wasn’t her hunter’s code — if she even had one. Hunting the raiju also wasn’t part of her code, but maybe saving a bunch of people who are watching Twilight could be something she added. As for Kyle the Werewolf, there was nothing that demanded she hunt him besides the nagging lessons taught in youth. There was no immediate threat, nor was there a bounty on his head as far as she knew. So Daiyu simply shook his hand and took her weapon back and tried not to think about it all too much.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she said, starting the walk back to her truck with one weapon in each hand, wondering if someone had called the authorities. Hopefully the sounds of thunder and Supermassive Black Hole had covered the sounds of the gunshot, though. “Was a good one, though. Good Pokémon battle. No fried people and shit.” She gave Kyle a look, a semi-grin. It wasn’t so bad, what they’d done. “Edward would be proud.” 

—

There was still some kind of unease that sat alert at the back of Kyle’s mind. On one hand, Daiyu had promised not to hunt him. On the other, she was a total stranger who had just played a hand in taking out a creature. Was he feeling conflicted about hunting the creature? He hadn’t long considered his new role in nature. Were he and the raiju equals? Had he too implicitly trusted this gun wielding Twilight-goer? He would have to sit with the topic later. He thought the hunter might combust if he started grilling her about her moral compass, and he didn’t want to put out any fires tonight either.

Kyle scoffed. “You think I care about Edward’s opinion? He would be a normal type trainer in the most boring way. He would have a team of fuckin’ pidgey and–y’know, never mind.” His face wrinkled in disgust. “Point being, I’m not ‘Team Edward,’” he concluded, with air quotes accenting his words. He crossed his arms across his chest as they reached the truck. Goodbyes felt awkward, especially given the circumstance of their meeting. “Hey, thanks for being cool,” he said flatly, with an air of hesitation. “I mean, letting me make you look like a chump with a bow.” He cracked a teasing grin and gave her finger guns. “You’ll get ‘em next time, bro.”

—

Once arrived at the truck, Daiyu worked on returning her weapons to it, making sure they wouldn’t go off if she went too hard over a speed bump (a common occurrence). A small laugh left her lips at the other’s response to her throwaway comment and she looked up with a quirked eyebrow. “Team Jacob, then? I think you’re biased.” She shrugged, straightened up and closed the door. “I mean, I’m totally team Alice, for what it’s worth. And she’d be totally proud too.” She would probably hate Daiyu for what she was, but luckily she wasn’t real.

She nodded at his comment, head bopping at his thanks. There were no guides for situations like these and Daiyu wished there were, and that they were shared at hunter camps. Guidelines for social interactions where you accidentally roped in a shifter into a hunt and didn’t kill them, or whatever. “Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. Totally let you win, for the record.” She hadn’t, and it was annoying — because even though she was certain she would have been able to kill the raiju if it had been just her, she hadn’t killed it this time. “I sure will. Er – enjoy the rest of the movie. Won’t get in your way again or whatever.” She raised her hand in goodbye, ready to continue to watch the rest of the movie in escapist solitude.

[ineedtoreadmorepoetry]

The Venus of Slapboxing by Kyle Dargan

My sister pronounced her disapproval with a certain contrapposto--her neck cricked to the side, chin tucked to collar- bone as if to say, "Oh, really?" Then followed the soft-scuplting of her frame. From first rib through right leg, she cured like a brick arch. Her arms raised into brimming Vs set for mantis snaps. Suddenly, your name was "punk" or "heifer"-- either an ominous thing.

I danced around all her invitations to spar. Not once did I witness her storied bouts. I wondered if she even needed to fight. Did her mere stance forecast a cyclone of knuckles none wished to dance within?

It did that, the city--turned girls into forces of nature. Furious, short-lived.

On Alabama Ave, as I watch a man slapbox with a woman under the V8 bus shelter, my feet understand the measured distance he keeps between himself and her form. It's the same space I held between myself and my sister--the distance any wise fool knows to maintain between himself and a decided woman, between his chin and her yet to be thrown blows.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Heart’s Choice - Chapter 23 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

- Carlos -

Despite my best efforts to stay awake and be an interesting companion on the drive over to Shasta City, I fall asleep.

I wake up with a crick in my neck, sun burning one side of my face and John watching me from the other side of a stationary vehicle.

We're parked on the side of a street lined with semi-dilapidated houses, which despite their ramshackle appearance still manage to capture a bit of the mountain-town charm.

Craning my neck, I peer out the window but a row of trees obscures my view of the peak for which the town is named.

"Are we there yet?" I mumble, sitting up and rubbing my face.

"Yeah. You sure you're okay?"

"Fine. Just a little tired from my walk on the other side."

He eyes me skeptically.

"You'll be honest with me, won't you? If you're not okay, I mean."

"You got it, partner," I mutter and stretch to crack my back.

If I am being honest, I'm hungry and grumpy and tired despite my nap.

Usually, after expending as much psychic energy as I did this morning, I'd eat something chocolatey and caffeinated, a grande mocha Frappuccino sounds about perfect right now but for some reason I don't want to mention this.

John is so strong and stoic, I don't want to seem like I can't keep up.

Unfortunately, he's also unusually perceptive, for a guy.

"We'll try to make this quick," he says. "Then we'll get something to eat. There's a Black Bear Diner we can hit on the way out of town."

I look over at him, surprised and he winks.

"Becky and I may not have been married long but I learn fast. Driving for hours without stopping for something to eat is a cardinal sin of mine, apparently."

Great, now he's comparing me to his nagging ex- wife.

So much for matching his machismo.

I start to turn away when he interrupts my thoughts with a light touch on my arm.

When I look at him again, his expression is earnest and almost... tender.

"Carlos, having basic needs doesn't make you weak," he says. "If you're hungry, tired, thirsty or whatever, say something. I'm not gonna judge you for it. Fuck, if I saw what you described seeing in that place, I'd piss myself but you just brushed it off like it was no big deal. I'm not gonna think you're weak if you need to stop for a rest or something to eat. You're human."

"And you're not," I say, frowning at him. "And how do you know what I was thinking, anyway?"

His expression clouds and he backs off, facing forward again and staring out the windshield.

"I'm mostly human and it was just a lucky guess."

He nods at a house a little further down the street.

"You ready?"

"Sure."

"Good," he says. "Let's do this."

According to the Shasta City police, Daryl Sparks, P.I. lived with his wife and worked out of a small shed in his backyard, which he'd converted to an office.

As John parks in the weedy patch of dirt that serves as a driveway in front of a house that can most kindly be described as a 'fixer upper' I let out a low whistle.

"Guess the P.I. business wasn't booming, huh?"

"Sparks only got his license a few months ago," John says.

"Before that, he ran a pool business into the ground. His resume is a list of failed ventures and get-rich-quick schemes and he was up to his eyeballs in gambling debt. Our best guess is he was hoping to run a little extortion game on the side, blackmailing people he spied on for his paying clients. If so, it's not off to a great start."

I fail to hide my surprise.

"You think he found out who killed Kyle and tried to blackmail them?"

If a guy whose detective training probably consisted of watching reruns of Cops cracked the case while we're still in the dark, it doesn't say much for the official efforts.

"Maybe he got lucky," John says, as we walk up the overgrown path to the front door. "Or thought he did, right up until whoever he tried to blackmail used him for carving practice instead."

He rings the doorbell, the button of which is only half attached to the wall.

I see movement behind the frosted glass of the door and it opens to reveal a woman dressed in pajamas, a robe and fuzzy slippers.

Her hair is gathered in a messy bun on top of her head and yesterday's makeup smudges her face.

I don't hazard a guess at her age, given how haggard she looks, she could be anywhere between twenty-five and forty.

"Pearl Sparks?" John hangs back, keeping a non-threatening distance between us and the door, and holds out his badge.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Detective John Turner, of the Spring Lakes Police Department. This is my partner, Carlos Martinez."

She leans against the doorframe.

"Jesus, don't you people have something better to do than harass me? Like find the fuck who killed Daryl? I've answered your questions already. You have more, you can talk to my lawyer."

She starts to shut the door and John turns up the charm.

"Wait, Mrs. Sparks," he says, stepping forward and catching the door before she can close it. "We won't take long, I promise. We'd just like to have a look around Daryl's office. We just need your permission to come on the property."

She scowls a him but I can tell she's softening.

Another flash from John's mercurial autumn eyes and she's butter.

"Well, I guess that's alright. Just don't break anything."

"We'll be extra careful," he promises.

She nods.

"Fine. Lemme get the key. Meet me 'round back."

She shuts the door and John releases a breath.

"Fuck, I'm glad that worked."

I frown at him.

"Did you just 'Dracula' her?"

"What?"

I lower my voice.

"Like, vampire hypnosis, or whatever."

He laughs that low, breathy laugh that gets me in the balls.

"What? No. Why?"

I shake my head, almost certain he'd used some super-human influence to get his way with Mrs. Sparks, if he smiled at me like that, he could have his way all too easily.

"You okay?" he asks, for the second time in the last quarter hour.

"I'm fine," I say, brushing him off with maybe a little more asperity than necessary. "Let's not keep dear Mrs. Sparks waiting."

As we pick our way around the side of the house, stepping over bits of old fence and other rubbish, I rub my chest.

'Jealousy. That's what I'm feeling.'

I've heard it described before plenty of times and read about it in books, I thought I knew it pretty well, in fact, from my days of pining after people who'd already met their perfect match.

Nope. That, I realize now, was envy.

Jealousy is a whole different monster.

I envied what others had, saw them enjoying what I wanted.

What I just felt was jealousy over the prospect that someone else might take what's mine.

Which is ridiculous.

Because I remind myself as I trail behind him, my eyes wistfully brushing the span of his shoulders and imagining all the muscles beneath his shirt...

John isn't mine.

[shaunsummers]

Tek's Birthday!

"You sure can if that makes you feel better, Quinn." Her brow perks with a repressed, amused grin as she slowly turns to turn down the oven. Simmering for half an hour, that was all that was left. Thank God because she needed to finish her fucking drink.

"I'd already coined you as a power top." With a snicker, Siren accepts the rotation with a humored smile. "That does sound better, though. I remember picking up my ex roommate a few times from her club and it was so uncomfortable. You're there for the tits, I get that but the whole vibe was...gross. But that, that actually sounds like a good time. Good for you."

The high squeal of a vehicle in much need of attention screams the arrival of the last two members as it is placed in park, promptly after hitting the curb. Turning the engine, inevitably silencing the sweet tunes of the one and only Kesha, Aiden turns to his partner in crime. "I'm so proud of that fucking costume, I could suck my own tits." Robin dressed as...Robin! Except a slut! Okay, so, maybe there wasn't a difference but she was the only bitch at the party that could arrive on scene as herself. Iconic. "You look great. I should call you daddy because you're going to get someone pregnant tonight, you beautiful slut!" Releasing a loud moan, the driver's side door to swung open, nearly hitting the mailbox as the hinges audibly crunch.

"Me? What about you?" With a wide sneer, Robin's eyes look him over before meeting his side to slap his stuffed flat ass cheeks. "Your Selina Kyle is to die for." An outfit that had been crafted well before the party's announcement. Of course, it was the Michelle Pfeiffer version. Well, if Michelle Pfeiffer has gotten a scoliosis inducing boob job. Christ, he had spent more cash on those tits than fixing his busted ass car. Priorities. Robin was proud. She raised that boy right. Though, Sierra was not going to be happy whenever she eventually came out here. Their vehicles were practically kissing.

With a sudden, violent swing of the door, they enter the building with Robin proudly carrying Aiden in her arms. "You may all have pussies!" He declares with a dramatic upwards sway of his arms before slapping the doorframe with his heel. "But! Tonight! I'm serving CUNT!"

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

Beatrix looks amused by the comment. "You did, huh? Well, I can switch it up, if someone's good enough to pry the crown from my cold, dead hands. But, the gig is a good time. I don't know much about stripping, but burlesque isn't for some small-dicked boys with a god complex. Fuck what they want, it's about what I want." She cricks a smile, but hearing the ruckus inside, she cranes back to see Aiden's dramatic entrance in the sluttiest possible interpretation of Catwoman. 'Hell Here' indeed, it had arrived. Her smile brightens—of course that queen was going to immediately suck the air out of the room—but doesn't make a move to get up yet. Certainly, he'd circle the room to flirt shamelessly and pry compliments out of everyone, first. She'd catch up in a minute.

"My wife!!!" Tek's head pops up with red eyes, already thoroughly stoned, but it doesn't abate any of her excitement. Holy shit, he not only dressed up, but went full Batman-Returns-goes-porno; she loved it. Quickly scrambling off the couch, she bounds over to them and clutches them both in an awkward hug; even if Aiden was still in Robin's arms. "And Mother-in-Law! You're both so delightfully slutty! My poor bat-boner!" Tek grins up at them, already so wiggly in her joy; today just kept getting better and better.

[reinsdork]

[baseballjerseynumbers]

Spring Training:

Charlie Culberson assigned 10

Daniel Robertson assigned 26

Kyle Crick assigned 30

Trevor Kelley assigned 44

Ben Heller assigned 48

Jaime Schultz assigned 52

Heath Hembree assigned 53

Colten Brewer assigned 54

Ryan Burr assigned 61

Nick Dini assigned 63

Héctor Pérez assigned 67

Cooper Criswell assigned 71

Elvin Rodríguez assigned 88

Zack Burdi assigned 91

[zareleonis]

brault: "glas you so pretty" 😹

[telesilla]

I'm so glad Kyle Crick has found his comfort zone in the bullpen. I was beginning to think we'd never see him in the bigs.

[pakcricwiz]

Pirates' Kyle Crick needs season-ending surgery after altercation with teammate Felipe Vazquez

"The behavior exhibited by these two players last night is unacceptable," Pirates GM Neal Huntington said in a statement.

from Sporting News RSS https://ift.tt/2NaCOjE from Blogger https://ift.tt/2ZRRgnf

[justlightlysedated]

the sleeping curse au:

Michael wakes up on the hard concrete floor in the bunker with a headache roughly the size of Texas, and a pressure behind his eyes that tells him that he should go back to sleep, but the crick in his neck and the pressure in his bladder are both louder.

He groans as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, and rubs a hand across his eyes, and up into his hair, scratching against his skull absently.

He blinks trying to clear his gummy vision, and then blinks some more when he sees that he’s not alone.

Alex is curled up right by the ladder, head pillowed on his arms, one hand wrapped loosely around the bottom rung.

Michael blinks some more and tries to remember what the hell happened to lead to this, but he barely remembers coming down to the bunker, let alone Alex being there.

The last thing that he remembers clearly is getting home, and if he thinks about it he does remember getting a message from Alex that said that he’d found something that he was coming over to show Michael.

But after that it’s all just a huge blank.

Michael breathes in deeply, and then gets to his feet, stomping around a little after he does like he’d been asleep for so long that his legs don’t know how to work properly.

The stomps are loud, in a room that's almost too quiet, and he hears Alex groaning as he starts to wake up.

"Too loud," Alex complains in a sleep rough voice that sends a jolt of heat down the back of his neck.

Michael stops stomping around and turns towards where Alex is pushing himself on to his back, and making a low hurt sound as he moves his legs, which tells Michael that he definitely still has his prosthetic on.

Michael's not sure how long they've been down there, but he knows that it's not comfortable for Alex to keep the prosthetic on for long periods of time.

"What the fuck?" He croaks as he starts to push himself to sit.

"That’s what I would like to know,” Michael drawls, and Alex jumps like he hadn’t realized that he wasn’t alone.

Michael watches as he looks around the room, and then spots him. 

“What the fuck?” he says again, with much more feeling.

He moves to get to his feet, and makes a sharp sound before letting himself sink back down to the ground, and then pull the hem of his pants up.

Michael bites down hard on his lip since he knows that Alex won’t appreciate his help, and turns away to give him some semblance of privacy, blinking his eyes as he looks at his work table and tries to see if he can remember anything else now that he’s more awake, but nothing else comes up.

He hears Alex grunt a little, and then sigh in relief.

“What happened?” Alex asks after a few minutes of silence that seems to be too loud.

Michael turns around and leans back against the table, shrugging a little. “I woke up down here, just like you.”

Alex blinks a few times at that, and then his brow furrows, and he looks away from Michael, gaze going a little bit glazed over as he tries to remember what he was doing there.

He must also draw a blank because he turns back to Michael, brow still furrowed.

Michael shrugs again. “Last thing I remember is getting a text from you saying you found something that you needed to show me.”

Alex nods his head, “I remember getting into my car, but I don’t remember actually driving out here.”

Michael pushes away from the table and walks closer to Alex, “Do you remember what it was that you wanted to show me?”

Alex nods his head, and pats the pockets of his leather jacket, and then frowns, “I guess I gave it to you already?”

Michael frowns, and turns back to the table, but there doesn’t seem to be anything new or out of place.

“I took a picture of it,” Alex says, and Michael can hear him patting his pockets again, searching for his phone.

“My phone is dead,” he says slowly, and looks back up at Michael, who turns to face him raising an eyebrow because his own phone is never fully charged and therefore almost always dead.

“I have a really good battery,” Alex says. “It was fully charged, and obviously no one was using it, so the battery should've lasted for a few days.”

Michael scoffs, and shakes his head, “It’s impossible that we’ve been here for days and no one has come to check up on us.”

“Unless they’re asleep as well,” Alex points out, and Michael frowns, and then he’s moving towards the ladder.

Alex stays where he is, and Michael would ask him if he wants help, but he’s sure that Alex would just glare at him and not answer.

Michael reaches up with one hand, and opens the manhole easily, so at least whatever happened doesn’t mean that he’s powerless.

Michael climbs out, and pauses right at the entrance, “Do you-?”

“I’m fine, Guerin,” Alex snaps, voice echoing slightly. “Just go find your phone and figure out if it’s just us.”

Michael doesn’t sigh, and just walks the last couple of feet to the Airstream. It looks like a dust storm had kicked up which could explain what he and Alex were doing in the bunker.

He finds his phone, predictably dead, and puts it to charge, while he goes searching for the charger that Alex had left behind once.

Alex takes long enough that Michael finds the charger and is able to make coffee, but it's less time than Michael had been expecting.

Michael sets the coffee down on top of the counter, and looks at Alex out of the corner of his eye as he sits down heavily on Michael’s bed, making a face, but otherwise not showing that he’s in pain.

He pushes the mug over on the counter, getting Alex’s attention, who makes grabby hands at the coffee, and Michael laughs a little, as he picks the mug back up and hands it over to him, leaning back against the counter with his own mug.

He waits until Alex takes a sip and lowers the mug before he motions towards the phone charger with his chin. 

“You can put your phone to charge, mine was dead as well.”

Alex does what he says, and boots his phone back up, drinking his coffee while it turns on.

Alex frowns when he sees the lockscreen, and then sets the mug aside to lift the phone to his face, unlocking the phone quickly and pulling something up before typing something out.

He taps for a few minutes, the furrow in his brow getting increasingly deeper, and then he looks up at Michael, confusion, but also something that looks a lot like fear in his eyes.

“The date is September 23rd, 2019,” Alex says slowly, and Michael gives him an incredulous look.

“No way, it was just the sixteenth,” Michael states and moves to grab his own phone, but when he goes to put in his password, he sees the date on the screen, 23/09/19.

“What the fuck?” he says, and Alex nods along like Michael took the words right out of his mouth.

Alex keeps tapping on his phone, and Michael takes his phone off the charger even though it’s only charged seven percent and calls Isobel first.

The phone goes straight to voicemail, and it does the same when he calls Max and then Liz and then Maria and even Kyle.

He tries to call up Cam, and it tells him that her phone is out of range, whatever that means.

When he looks back at Alex, it’s to find him with his phone to his ear. He shakes his head, pulling the phone away when Michael raises his eyebrow at him.

“There has to be a rational explanation for all of this,” Michael says, setting his phone aside. “We should go check-”

Alex pulls something out of his pocket then. It’s covered in dust, and Michael vaguely recognizes it as a piece of metal he’d figured was scrap when he’d walked to the Airstream earlier.

“This is what I wanted to show you,” he says, holding out his hand. The device sits in his palm, looking like if someone had crumpled a piece of paper and then turned it into silver. “It was perfectly round before, and there was some sort of flower carved on the surface, but I knew it was alien because it was warm and buzzing and pulsing with a soft blue light.”

Michael licks his lips and looks at the scrap of metal in Alex’s hand, “So what you’re thinking is that whatever happened to us, has to do with that?”

“I don’t think we can discount any possibility yet,” Alex states diplomatically, and then stuffs the scrap back into his jacket pocket, picking up his coffee and draining the rest of it.

Michael stares at him as he gets to his feet again, only wincing a little. “We should go into town. See if it’s affected anyone else.”

Michael nods his head, and then he remembers that Sanders was supposed to be there today since Michael wasn’t working.

“Sanders,” Michael says, looking at Alex, who looks back at him with wide eyes, and then nods his head.

Michael goes running out of the door, and he can hear Alex following after him.

He finds Sanders on the ground right in front of the shop, a wrench in the ground right in front of his hand, his even breaths ruffling the material of his long sleeved shirt.

Michael drops to his knees and pushes Sanders on to his back.

"Sanders!" He says and shakes him, hard, slapping against his cheeks none too gently when he doesn't react at all.

He feels Alex stop somewhere behind him, and then before Michael can slap him again, Alex whistles, loud and sharp enough that Michael feels like his eardrums are going to burst.

Sanders doesn't even flinch.

Michael leans back on his heels, and turns his head sideways to see Alex moving to stand beside him.

“You woke up pretty much as soon as I started making noise,” Michael comments.

Alex licks his lips and looks around the area quickly, while Michael looks back down to Sanders, who is just lying still, breathing slow and even, deeply asleep.

“Maybe we were protected from the worst of it by being in the bunker,” Alex says slowly. “We should go to the lab. I need to look at the files. Maybe there’s something-”

“Okay,” Michael says, interrupting him. “But first, let’s get him somewhere more comfortable.”

He stands up, and inhales deeply, raising his hand and then he feels Alex's hand on his arm.

Michael looks over to him, raising an eyebrow in question, and Alex clears his throat before dropping his hand back to his side.

"I'll help you carry him inside," he offers, licking his lips and not really looking at Michael. "We don't know what's going on, and it might not be wise to put a strain on your powers."

Michael wanted to tell him that he wouldn't be straining anything, but Alex's face is set like he's not going to change his mind, so Michael just sighs and motions Alex forward.

They get Sanders to the couch inside of the office. It’s a tight fit, but much more comfortable than being on the floor.

Once they’re out of the office, Michael heads to his truck decisively and Alex follows after him without a word.

It’s not until he gets into the truck and grunts low in the back of his throat, a sound like relief, that Michael turns to look at him, but Alex is leaning his head against the window, breathing in and out steadily.

Michael just starts the truck and pulls out of the scrapyard.

Alex pulls his jacket off and tosses it inside of the truck, before he closes the door and walks around towards where Michael is standing on the sidewalk, rolling up the sleeves of his dark green shirt.

He's opening his mouth to speak, but Michael stops him, stepping forward and grabbing Alex's arm.

Alex makes a surprised sound, and tries to tug his arm back, but Michael just turns his arm so his forearm is visible and shows him what he's seeing.

Alex stops struggling and moves closer to Michael, both of them leaning over Alex's arm, foreheads almost brushing as they look.

"I didn't know you got a tattoo," Michael comments idly.

Alex makes a slightly distressed, slightly manic sound at the back of his throat.

"I didn't get one," he replies, but there is no denying that there is a rose inked into the skin of his forearm, the lines almost too black.

Michael licks his lips, and passes his thumb over the lines, rubbing slightly, but it's not drawn on, and he drops Alex's hand when the lines shimmer in blues and reds and yellows and greens, like the pieces of the ship.

Alex looking at him when Michael turns to face, brow furrowed, before he looks back down at the tattoo and gasps.

Michael's gaze drops down to his arm again, and he inhales sharply.

The tattoo moves, like it's alive, leaves and petals gently rustled by an unseen wind, and then one of the petals falls, a black rose petal shape that turns red as it drops from Alex's arm to the sidewalk in front of them.

Alex lowers his arm, slowly, and Michael keeps his gaze on the too red rose petal, bending down to grab it.

As soon as his fingers touch it, it dissolves into nothing.

"What the hell?" Michael asks, feeling even more confused as he gets back to his feet and turns to face Alex.

Alex is worrying his bottom lip, and he turns to face Michael like he can feel him staring.

"I think I know what's going on," he says and then he turns and walks away, dodging around the people passed out on the street and sidewalk, and heading towards the diner.

Michael follows after him, not really wanting to be left alone out here.

--they try to go into town, and have to go on foot, when they almost run someone over passed out on the street, and even if they did move them, there were too many cars stationary on the road

--they start walking and alex takes his jacket off because it’s too hot, and sees that he has a tattoo of a rose on his forearm that wasn’t there before, and as they stare at it, one of the petals from the rose falls, and disappears, alex makes a soft noise, like something hurts, but when michael asks him if he's okay, he says he's fine

--alex connects the dots to fairytales, but doesn't understand why an alien device would do this, but since there is only one cure for a sleeping curse, as the fairytales say, they go in search for maria

--they head to the wild pony, two more petals fall on the way, but she's not at the bar, but forrest is, michael tries to goad Alex into kissing Forrest to break the spell, and Alex doesn't take the bait and just leaves, and Michael feels both guilty and relieved

--they don't find maria at her apartment,  and Michael notes that two more petals have fallen and there seem to be six left, alex tells him to drive to the hospice, maria was probably visiting her mother

--michael wonders what would happen if the last petal fell before they figure out a way to undo what happened, alex hums like he has an idea, but he doesn't say much, and since michael is still feeling guilty over pushing him about Forrest, he doesn't push

--they find maria at the hospice, and while michael makes her more comfortable where she's passed out on the couch, alex takes mimi back to her room to give them privacy

--michael hesitates when he leans in to kiss maria, a fear taking a hold of him, making him wonder what would happen if it didn't work, but he loves her, he does, so it has to work, he leans in to kiss her again, and then hesitates, feeling scared over what would happen if it DID work, for a reason that he doesn't really understand

--he kisses her, and nothing happens

--he waits almost an hour, and only stands up when he realizes that Alex isn't back, he goes looking for him, and finds him on the floor, looking at the tattoo, and Michael sees that there are three petals left, and that the stem of the rose seems to have started to wrap around Alex's arm, winding up his arm, and into the sleeve of his shirt

--alex tells him that he's pretty sure he's going to die, Michael refuses, but alex keeps going, that he's about eighty percent sure that him dying will break the curse

--michael realizes that the reason he hesitated over Maria is because he knows, deep down that he's still in love with alex, two petals fall, and dislodge the third, and it's barely hanging on, and Alex breathes in sharp, and there is blood at the corner of his mouth, and Michael doesn't hesitate at all as he leans down and kisses alex

--he feels like a wave of something rushes past him, and when he pulls away, Alex is too still and just when Michael loses hope, and starts to hear noises like people moving, alex breathes in loud and gasping, and then falls back on the floor, breathing heavily, relieved, michael drops his forehead against Alex's and ignores the world starting up around them to just breathe

Michael thinks that he hears someone calling his name, but he just presses his forehead harder against Alex's and breathes.

[twins2994]

Pirates Back Cahill In Win.

Pirates 6 Twins 2 W-Cahill (2-1) L-Pineda (1-1)

The Minnesota Twins finally got off a bad losing skid with a 2-0 win last night against the Pirates. The two teams squared off again this afternoon at Target Field and the Pirates had other plans. The Pittsburgh bats woke up in the second inning when Erik Gonzalez lined a one-out single to left. Gregory Polanco doubled to left and the Pirates were in business. The next batter, Todd Frazier hit a grounder to short, but Jorge Polanco made a wild throw to first base. A run scored on the play and Pittsburgh struck first. Michael Perez followed with a two-run double to center and the Pirates had a 3-0 lead. The Twins answered in the bottom of the second as Jorge Polanco drew a two-out walk. Willians Astudillo lined a single to right and Jake Cave hit an RBI double to center. This pulled the Twins within two runs after two innings of play. The Pirates got back to work in the fifth. Michael Perez led-off and crushed a Michael Pineda fastball out to right for a solo homer. The next batter, Kevin Newman launched a Pineda fastball out to left for a solo blast. The back-to-back homers extended the Pirates lead to four. Pittsburgh had one more run left in them in the sixth. Todd Frazier was hit by a pitch and Michael Perez singled to right. Jake Cave made a wild throw to third base, which gave the runners an extra base. Kevin Newman hit a sacrifice fly to right and Pittsburgh had a 6-1 lead after six frames. Meanwhile, Trevor Cahill was dominant today. He threw six solid innings and allowed a run on two hits. The Twins finally got to the Pirates bullpen in the eighth. Jake Cave led-off with a double to left and Luis Arraez reached on a dropped ball by Phil Evans. Josh Donaldson hit a sac fly to center and the Twins were within four. Kyle Crick got out of the jam and Richard Rodriguez threw a 1-2-3 ninth as the Pirates evened the series up at a game apiece today. 

-Final Thoughts- Michael Pineda had a rare bad outing. He went just 4 1/3 innings and allowed five runs (four earned) on six hits with a walk and five strikeouts. Devin Smeltzer saved the bullpen with 4 2/3 innings of relief. He gave up a run on one hit with three strikeouts. He was sent down to the alternate training site. Cody Stashak might be a guy called up because his ten day window should be over. Jake Cave led the way with two hits on the day. The Twins hit 1-for-5 with runners in scoring position and left four men on base. Tomorrow, Matt Shoemaker starts against a yet to be determined starter for Derek Shelton and the Pirates. 

-Chris Kreibich-

[goalhofer]

2021 Pittsburgh Pirates Roster

Pitchers

#23 Mitch Keller (Cedar Rapids, Iowa)

#30 Kyle Crick (Sherman, Texas)

#31 Tyler Anderson (Las Vegas, Nevada)

#34 J.T. Brubaker (New Carlisle, Ohio)

#35 Trevor Cahill (Vista, California)

#39 Chad Kuhl (Middletown, Delaware)

#43 Steven Brault (El Cajon, California)

#44 Cody Ponce (La Verne, California)

#45 Michael Feliz (Azua, Dominican Republic)

#46 Chris Stratton (Tupelo, Mississippi)

#48 Richard Rodríguez (Santiago, Dominican Republic)

#51 David Bednar (Mars, Pennsylvania)

#52 Clay Holmes (Slocomb, Alabama)

#54 Sam Howard (Cartersville, Georgia)

#56 Duane Underwood; Jr. (Marietta, Georgia)

#57 Luis Oviedo (Barquisimeto, Venezuela)

#62 Blake Cederlind (Turlock, California)

#72 José Soriano (Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic)

#75 Austin Davis (Scottsdale, Arizona)

Catchers

#5 Michael Pérez (Cataño, Puerto Rico)

#58 Jacob Stallings (Lawrence, Kansas)

Infielders

#2 Erik González (Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic)

#13 Ke’Bryan Hayes (Tomball, Texas)

#15 Wilmer Difo (Santiago De Los Caballeros, Dominican Republic)

#19 Colin Moran (New Rochelle, New York)

#24 Phillip Evans (Carlsbad, California)

#26 Adam Frazier (Watkinsville, Georgia)

#27 Kevin Newman (Poway, California)

Outfielders

#6 Anthony Alford (Petal, Mississippi)

#10 Bryan Reynolds (Brentwood, Tennessee)

#25 Gregory Polanco (Villa Mella, Dominican Republic)

#49 Dustin Fowler (Dexter, Georgia)

Coaches

Manager Derek Shelton (Carbondale, Illinois)

Bench coach Don Kelly (Mt. Lebanon, Pennsylvania)

1st base coach Tarrik Brock (Goleta, California)

3rd base coach José Cora (Caguas, Puerto Rico)

Hitting coach Rick Eckstein (Sanford, Florida)

Assistant hitting coach Christian Marrero (Miami, Florida)

Pitching coach Oscar Marin (Los Angeles, California)

Bullpen coach Justin Meccage (Billings, Montana)

Bullpen catcher Jordan Comadena (Normal, Illinois)

Catching coach Glenn Sherlock (Nahant, Massachusetts)

Field coordinator Mike Rabelo (New Pt. Richey, Florida)

Coaching assistant Jose Andrade (Caracas, Venezuela)