#like essentially my days were centered around watching the stream that night or catching up on streams and i just don't do that anymore

[axylotal]

how has it been 2 years since the meetup. how HOW??

[marvelslut16]

Can’t live without you

Pairing: Stanley Uris x reader (adults)

Synopsis: (Y/N) finds out that her best friend didn’t arrive back in Derry with the rest of the losers club, and finds out that he tried to kill himself. Glimpses of her past with Stan are seen as she visits him in the hospital. Will the best friends that have been pining over each other since they were kids finally get their happy ending, or will Patricia and the very different lives the lead get in the way?

Word count: 5,314 this is a lot more than I originally planned, guess I got carried away.

Warnings: Attempted suicide. Talk of self harm. Blood/gore/violence, typical for the IT fandom. Brief implication of domestic violence from a father and a wife. A little angsty at times, but fluffy. Swearing. Tooth rotting fluff near the end.

A/N: Stan may be OOC, but I tried my hardest for my first IT story. Stan the man Uris is fantastic and deserved so much better. AU where the characters I love don’t die. The reader in this story isn’t Jewish, if you are Jewish, I apologize. There is a cute little story-line that relies heavily on the reader not having the same faith as him.

It had been just over twenty years since you were last in your home town of Derry Maine, and you hadn’t thought if it once. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to remember, you just couldn't. There were days when the name Stan would randomly pop in your head, and from a place buried very deep in the back of your brain, you were sure he was an important person in your adolescent life. 

When Mike Hanlon called to tell you that Pennywise was back, your heart started pounding so hard you were convinced it would leap from its place inside your chest. You didn’t exactly remember Pennywise, but you remembered the fear. You also remembered a mop of curly light brown hair that you immediately associated with Stan. 

Upon arriving at the Chinese restaurant in Derry flashes of your childhood came back, they were so unfamiliar it was like watching somebody else's life. Stan was the center of almost all of them, your old best friend and boy you had been in love with since you were six. It was great catching up with your old friends, but it didn’t feel right without Stan. 

The other six members of the losers club opened their fortune cookies, spelling out; ‘I,’ ‘cut,’  ‘not,’ ‘it,’ ‘guess,’ and ‘could.’ Your heart falls into the pit of your stomach as you open your own and see the thick black letters spelling out Stanley. 

“No,” you gasp out a plea to no one in particular. You lean forward and numbly move the papers around to say, ‘I guess Stanley could not cut it.’ The rest of the losers club had remembered enough over dinner to remember just how much Stan meant to you, causing them to stare at you as you try to blink back tears. 

The group running from creatures breaking out of fortune cookies happens in a blur, your head isn’t clear until the cool night air hits it. Mike gives you Stan’s number as soon as he comes to his senses. You walk away from the group, wanting privacy for whatever you get on the other end of the call. 

“Who is this?” a female voice answers the phone. Your furrow your eyebrows in fear and glance over at Mike who is watching you closely. 

“Uh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you state nervously, picking at your already chipped nail polish. “I’m sorry, I thought this was Stan Uris’s number.”

“It is,” the voice says slowly. “How do you know him?”

“We grew up together, we were best friends,” you smile as you remember gripping onto his hand as the wind whipped around you two the first time you jumped into the quarry. “Our friend group was having a mini reunion back home, and we got worried that he didn’t show up.”

“He’s in the hospital,” she says with no real emotion in her voice. 

“What?” you ask in disbelief. Not your Stan. 

“He’s in the hospital,” she snaps. “Do I need to say it slower for you? He slit his wrists and lost a lot of blood.”

“Oh my God,” you murmur, knees going weak at the thought. “Which hospital? I’d like to visit him before I go back home.”

She tells you the name of the hospital and hangs up before you can say anything else. Your knees buckle as soon as the line clicks dead, causing you to fall and scrape up your knees on the dirty pavement. Tears stream down your face and silent sobs shake your body. Ben and Bev immediately rush to your side, Bev kneeling beside you as she rubs soothing circles into your back. 

“(Y/N)?” she asks nervously. 

“He’s in the hospital,” you sob out weakly. “He tried to kill himself.” Bev helps you stand and sets you in Richie’s car so you can head to the hotel.

The rest of your time in Derry is a blur, it’s over so quick, but feels painfully slow. You instantly knew that your token was the menorah necklace that you’ve worn everyday since you had gotten it in sixth grade. Stan had bought it for you for Christmas as a joke, his father had made a not-so-pleasant comment about you not being Jewish the week prior. You knew you loved him the moment you tore the ribbon off of the box; he knew you better than anyone else, he let his guard down when he was with you, and he was the kindest, sweetest boy you had ever met especially when he stood up to his father about your religion.

Before you know it you’re assaulted by the smell of bleach and shiny white floors as you walk into the hospital Stan is in. After finding out the room number from the receptionist you slowly head to his room, wondering if you should really be there. 

Through the small window of Stan’s hospital room you see a blonde woman sitting on a couch on the far side of the room, typing away on her laptop. When you enter the room she slams her laptop shut and walks over to you, making sure to stand between you and Stan’s bed. 

“I’m Patricia Uris,” she makes no move to stick her hand out for you to shake, but makes the diamond on her left hand noticeable. 

“I’m (Y/N),” you give her a small smile that drops as you look behind her, seeing Stan’s body lay there unmoving. “We briefly spoke on the phone the other night.”

“Right,” her eyes squint as she looks you up and down. “What happened to your face?” She’s referring to the healing cut that reaches from your hairline diagonally to your eyebrow, you should really look into getting side bangs or something. Pennywise was always great at mentally and physically scarring everyone. 

“I was taking a shortcut through the forest in Derry when I slipped and cut it on a sharp piece of bark,” you lie effortlessly. She rolls her eyes but seems to believe your terrible excuse. “Is Stan getting any better?”

“The doctors say he should wake up any day now,” she doesn’t sound as excited about that as a wife should. “They say he should be awake, he just doesn’t want to. It’s all psychological apparently. It’s just like Stan to not want to do anything, always wanting to bird watch instead of going shopping with me.”

“Stan always loved to bird watch,” you smile at Patricia, pushing away the anger you feel at her ignorance and disdain she seems to hold for her husband. “He used to always drag me to the park in Derry to show me the different types, I was the only one in the group to enjoy it with him.”

“Yeah, well, it gets old fast,” she rolls her eyes, turning around to pack her laptop in her bag and grab her purse. “I’m gonna go home and shower, sit with him as long as you want to.”

Her heels click loudly on the linoleum flooring as she walks past you without a second glance towards Stan. You frown at her back as she walks down the hall to the elevator. You pull up a chair next to Stan’s bed and lightly grab his limp hand, running your thumb over the back of his hand.”

“You can’t leave me alone in this shit world, not after I finally remember,” tears spill down your cheeks. “I need you Stan the man. I’ll even go bird watching with you. Richie said, and I quote, so you can’t get mad at me for saying this when you wake up and remember me saying this, that you need to wake your ass up Urine, there are still a shit ton of birds to go look at. It’s all over Stan, we killed IT. And we all made it out, so you definitely need to wake back up. I’ve lived twenty years without you Stanley, I can’t go twenty more without you. I can’t even go one more without you.

Richie and Eddie finally got together, it was really cute. Eddie thought he was dying, he got stabbed by IT, so he confessed his love to Richie. But Richie was determined to get him out of there alive, and he did. So now they’re finally together, even though he married a woman that’s essentially his mother. Ben and Bev finally got together, we used to always say that they were made for each other. Ben is super fit now, but he’s still the biggest sweetheart I have ever met. And Bev is still so strong willed and fierce. 

Bill is a horror writer now, which to me is pretty ironic. They’re making his stories into movies, where they always change the ending because they want something happy. He married some actress, who he’s divorcing as we speak. She isn’t great, insulting his work and not really caring that she’s hurting his feelings. Mike has been living in Derry this entire time, he took over his family's business. He was waiting these past twenty-seven years for IT to come back. Trying his hardest to protect the next generation from the horror that we faced. 

I guess that just leaves me, I moved to Colorado, far far away from Derry. I worked my ass off to become a lawyer, the dream you always pushed me to go after. Even when I couldn’t remember you, your encouragement was in the back of my head, keeping me going when it got difficult. There were days that I would get foggy images of us getting ice cream, or splashing each other in the quarry, all of those times when you would let your guard down and have fun with me. Even after the losers club drifted apart as we went into high school, you stayed at my side. You defended me to your father when he hated that we were so close, even though I wasn’t Jewish. We were always there to pick each other up when Bowers or Greta and their friends would tease or beat us up. Stanley Uris, please wake up. I need you, we all miss you, and I definitely miss you the most.”

--

After spending hours with him, you head to the nearest hotel for the night. The next morning you stop by the hospital with the intent to say goodbye to Stan before heading home. When you walk up to the room Patricia and the doctor are talking. 

“There was more brain activity yesterday,” the doctor’s voice drifts out through the open door and into the hall where you’re standing. “Whatever you did, do it again, because it was the first time we saw evidence that he could wake up.”

“Great,” she has a fake grin on her face, and she’s using a fake tone. Why doesn’t she want Stan, the most amazing man you have ever met and her husband, to wake up? “What are you doing here again?” she snaps as she notices you in the doorway. 

“I have to head back home, so I wanted to say goodbye to him,” you nervously fiddle with the hem of your sweater. 

“Didn’t you have enough time with him yesterday?” she glares at you. Why is she so defensive about you seeing Stan again?

“You were here yesterday?” the doctor's eyes widen as he looks at you for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you answer shyly, flattening the side bangs you cut last night. Making sure they cover your stitched up forehead. His eyes light up in excitement and goes to talk to you once more, Patricia cuts him off. 

“Well, as Stanley’s wife, I’m not sure I feel comfortable having you spend more time with him,” as she goes to continue with a string of complaints, a hushed and broken sound comes from the hospital bed. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper, your hand covering your mouth. Your knees go weak, almost collapsing with relief as Stan repeats the sounds he had just made. 

“I’m right here Stan,” Patricia forces her excitement once more, limply grabbing his hand. 

“(Y/N),” his voice is clear this time, and your heart flutters as your old best friend says your name again. You rush over to his other side, gently grabbing his hand since that's where his IV is.

“Stan?” your voice breaks as you try to keep a relieved sob from escaping. Stan slowly and carefully flips his hand over, threading his fingers with yours. “It’s over. IT is gone, we got rid of IT this time.” His eyes open at your words, head turning to look you in the eyes. Tears finally escape the moment you can finally look into his deep brown eyes again. 

“Did you call me urine?” his voice is rough and scratchy from not being able to use it for a week. More tears spill down your face as you laugh, because that was the first question he decides to ask you. 

“I said I was quoting Richie,” your whole body shakes as you laugh, far too relieved to care if Patricia thinks you’re being over the top. 

“I can remember,” his voice is softer, just like his eyes. “I remember everything. What ever happened to your necklace?” his other hand reaches across his body, but stops and hovers a few inches away from where the necklace once hung. You instinctively reach up to touch your chest where the pendent once fell. 

“We needed tokens of our past, the most important thing from our childhood, that was mine,” he grips your hand tighter, the other one falling to his lap and away from Patricia. “I wore it everyday these past twenty seven years.”

“What necklace?” Patricia’s strained voice brings you back to Earth. You carefully let go of Stan’s hand and pull it back to your side. You had forgotten about Patricia, forgot that you aren’t allowed to love him anymore. 

“I got her a menorah necklace,” Stan laughs at the memory, not noticing that you got awkward and pulled away. “She’s not Jewish, and my dad always hated that we were so close and she wasn’t. I used to joke that I would convert her one day, so I thought it would be funny to get her it for Christmas.” The doctor grins at you and Stan with a knowing look before backing out of the room quietly. 

“Cute,” Patricia rolls her eyes and glares at you. You frown in response, wondering what on Earth you ever did to her. Ignoring Patricia, you hand Stan the unopened water bottle from your bag, sure that he’d need some water. He smiles gratefully at you before taking a large sip.

“What are you even doing here?” his stern gaze landing on Patricia. You furrow your brows, the Stan you knew would never treat his wife this way. 

“I’m your wife!” her voice is shrill, hurting your ears and making you cringe. Stan on the other hand doesn’t seem amused with the outburst. 

“We aren’t married anymore Patricia,” Stan’s voice is harder than you have ever heard before. “I divorced you three years ago, the only reason you're here is because I haven’t changed my emergency contact.” 

You run your hands through your hair as you process the new information, Stan was available. You could love him without being guilty. You could finally tell him that you love him, that you always have. 

“Well have fun with your deformed klutz over there,” she gestures towards you with a mocking grin. You had pushed your bangs back a moment prior without realizing it, Stan’s gaze on you quickly goes from confused to anger as he pieces together what happened to you. 

“Leave Patricia,” the anger in his voice is kinda hot. “I never want to see you again.”

“Don’t come crawling back to me when you get bored with her,” and with that she leaves, slamming the door loudly behind her. 

“What happened?” Stan brings his hand up and gently glides his fingers over the stitches Eddie put in. 

“You aren’t married?” your heart is beating so fast you swear it would break out of your chest and fly away. 

 “No, I divorced her a while ago, I realized she was treating me terribly,” you start crying at his words. “Why are you crying?”

“I thought you were dead, and then I thought you were married and slowly dying,” you sob. “But now you’re suddenly single and very much alive. It’s a lot to process. 

He lifts his hand back up to your face, wiping away your tears even if they’re being replaced as soon as he moves his thumb away from your skin. His hands are a little rough, but soft enough to know that he works behind a desk. His hand starts to caress your cheek, you have to fight the heat from rising to your cheeks and push away the excitement you feel from the tender touch. You’re just an old friend he hasn’t seen in twenty years, nothing more. 

“What happened to your forehead?” his voice is soft again, and his fingers brush along the angry red cut once more.  

“I was facing my fear,” images of a young Stan abandoning you in order to save himself, saying that you mean nothing to him, after you had fallen and your abusive father was closing in on you, race through your mind. “And Pennywise, as my father, cornered me after a young you pushed me down and ran away. As my father was hovering over me with a knife, he morphed into IT and he used his long sharp nail to cut my face, and try to gouge my eye out. I got lucky because there happened to be a large rock next to me, which I hit IT with so I could run away.”

“I would never leave you,” Stan says sadly, a hurt look in his eyes as he stares at you but can’t look into your eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see him again, even if he was just IT’s illusion.”

“It’s fine,” you reach up to play with your necklace, forgetting it’s not there anymore. Playing with the necklace had become a coping mechanism for your anxiety. The nervous tick had developed almost immediately after you received the present. “Really, everything is in the past now. I’m fine.”

Stan gives you a disbelieving look, you look around the room to avoid his gaze. Your eyes lock onto the clock, causing them to widen as you take in the time. How had that much time passed already? It felt like you had entered the room five minutes ago, it certainly didn’t feel like two hours had come and gone. 

“What is it?” Stan grabs your hand, keeping you from standing from the uncomfortable hospital chair. 

“I have a plane to catch, in an hour,” you pull your hand from his grasp, standing and backing away from the bed as well. “I need to go now if I have any chance of making it through TSA and to my plane in time.”

“Don’t go,” his voice is soft, broken even. “I lost you once, I can’t lose you again.”

“You’ll be fine Stan,” you flash him a watery smile. “You have healing to do, and then you can go bird watch all you want. We’ll remember each other this time, we can keep in touch.” You walk over to the side of his bed, pushing the curls off his forehead so you can give him a soft kiss. A tear slips down your cheek and lands on his curls as the fall back into place. “Goodbye Stan.”

--

It had been weeks since you had left Atlanta, and you’ve thought of Stan every hour of every day since. It’s like your mind is punishing you with thoughts of him since you had forgotten him for so long. You and Stan texted a couple times, you still had his number from when Mike gave it to you. And just like Mike gave you Stan’s number, he gave Stan your address. Because two and a half weeks after you arrived home, a small package from Stan arrived in the mail. 

You stare at the package in shock for a few minutes, before finally opening it. You gasp as you see a menorah necklace inside, almost identical to the one you had gotten so many years ago. Your heart thumps against your rib cage at the thoughtful, heartfelt gesture. 

You immediately send Stan a text, thanking him for the necklace, while lightly chastising him for spending money on you, and asking him to give you a call as soon as he could. It has been almost twenty four hours since your text, and you've gotten no reply. You start to fear the worst, that this could have been his last act before trying, and succeeding, to kill himself. As you contemplate finding a way to get a wellness check on him, there's a knock on your apartment door. Probably just the guy from down the hall that doesn’t understand that rejection isn’t playing hard to get. 

When you open the door Stan is standing in front of you; his dark brown curls are styled instead of the chaotic mess they were at the hospital, his face clean shaven, his striped button up and pressed khakis are reminiscent of the outfits he would wear as a child. This is how you always imagined Stanley Uris would look like as an adult, well without the small almost unnoticeable scars on the side of his head. 

“Come in,” you finally snap out of your trance and step to the side, leaving more than enough room for him to walk into your modest two bedroom apartment. He takes in the living room and kitchen, but his eyes light up when they land at the necklace hanging delicately from your throat. “Wh-what are you doing here?” you glance down at the small carry on he’s holding.

“I thought I should tell you why I did it,” his voice is strained. “And I didn’t want to do it over the phone, since I know you were getting ready to make some smart ass remark about telephones.” Stan really was your best friend, because he’s spot on with his prediction about what you were just about to say. “I don’t know if it’s because I saw the deadlights for so long or something, but as we kept getting closer to twenty seven years I started to remember. It started with you and the rest of the losers a few years ago, but as soon as Mike told me IT was back I remembered all the pain we went through. I knew that we all needed to go back to Derry, but I knew I couldn’t do it. I knew that if I went my fear would be putting you in danger. I thought suicide would be the only way to keep you safe and where I didn’t have to face IT again.”

“Bev saw visions of everyone's death, how we would all die if we ignored IT. She saw you in your bathtub, and ironically she saw me bashing my own head in with a law textbook,” you laugh awkwardly, changing the subject from his reasoning and proof that he isn’t alone in this. “IT found a way to get to us, no matter how strong we are or how far away from Derry we were. Do I think you and Bev had it worse because you two saw the deadlights? Yeah, I do. I’m sure you got memories back as IT was waking up, you saw the deadlights the longest. You never should have made it out of those sewers alive that summer, but I’m glad you did. That probably made you more susceptible to that rush of fear you got again. And I just want you to know that you aren’t alone Stan.”

“I’ve missed you,” his voice frail as he pulls nervously at the bottom of his button up. 

“It’s been two weeks Stan,” you try to ignore the warm fuzzy feeling growing in your stomach. “You couldn’t have missed me that much. Plus, you could have called to talk.” Stan takes a deep shaky breath, and you frown in concern at his actions.  

“I’ve loved you my entire life (Y/N), it’s been two and a half weeks and I can’t stand to be away from you,” Stan says earnestly, his words warm your broken soul. “Not for two weeks and three days, I don’t think I can even go a day without you near. I love you (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I love you too, Stanley Uris,” a grin spreads across your face, the joy mirrored in your eyes. “I knew I loved you the moment I got my first menorah necklace from you. It showed me just how special I was to you, you stood up to your father for me and you got me something that would forever remind the two of us of that moment.” 

Stan doesn’t say anything, he just leans forward and captures your lips with his. The kiss is electric, you swear there are fireworks, just like those cheesy movies. With your left hand you caress the scars on his head from all those years ago, and your right tangles into his styled curls. Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll float away if he lets go. When you pull apart your lips are tingling, both you and Stan panting heavily. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Stan breaks the mood smiling shyly, causing you to laugh. “I kinda just threw stuff in a bag and got on the first flight out of Georgia, didn’t really plan ahead.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my Stanley?” you laugh lightly, his ears turning red at your teasing. “He would never leave the house without having a well thought out plan first.”

“What can I say?” his smile grows, and so does yours as you watch the dimple on his right cheek deepen. “Your spontaneity and want for adventure always rubbed off on me.”

“You can stay for as long as you want,” you lean in, gripping his shirt and pulling him into you. This kiss isn’t soft this time, it’s rough and needy. Twenty seven plus years of wanting this and it’s finally yours. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, you sure as hell weren’t going to complain about the amount of passion in it. The kiss was finally a way in which the two of you could express every deep and long buried feeling. 

--

It was four months to the day since Stan showed up at your doorstep, and the two of you had only been apart for a week the entire time. You couldn’t get away from work again so soon and Stan had to go back to Georgia to pack up his belongings. The apartment that you had resided in soon turned into a home, all thanks to Stan. You two invited the rest of the losers over to visit, figuring that you had settled into your new relationship so easily you didn’t want to hide it from your friends. This time there would be no IT, no life threatening tasks to complete, and it’s the first time in twenty seven years that you would all be together. What you don’t know is that Stan is planning a big surprise, with the help of the most important people in your lives. 

You run out to grab salsa from the store you swear you picked some in preparation for today earlier in the week, but Stan said there was none in the fridge. You drive as fast as you can, the losers club should be over within an hour, and you didn’t want them to beat you home. 

The apartment is strangely quiet as you swing the door open; Stan isn’t muttering to himself as he goes over a client’s finances, and he isn’t sitting at the table working on a puzzle. Where is your Stanley?

Before you can get too worried, your brain immediately racing to the possibility that he is in your bathtub, that seeing everyone after all this time was too much for him, Eddie appears from the kitchen. You go to guilty greet him, feeling bad for being a bad hostess and not being there when he and Richie arrived, bet the hypochondriac cuts you off. 

“Your smile that can light up a room,” he grins cheekily at you, like he knows something you don’t. 

“Your smokin’ bod,” Richie joins the two of you, his laugh ending when Eddie smacks his gut. “Fine, fine, your eyes that sparkle when you’re truly happy.”

“How incredibly smart you are, especially when you find holes in the other lawyers arguments,” Bev winks at you, you look around desperately for Stan. Where is he? And what's going on?

“Your perseverance, you always make the hard days look easy,” Ben walks out and wraps his arm around Bev’s shoulders.

“How caring and understanding you are,” Bill stands beside Richie, the grocery bag with the salsa in it, on the floor and long forgotten.

“And that your voice can calm me with just one word,” you furrow your brows at Mike. 

“Those are all things I love about you,” Stan’s gentle voice comes from behind you. You whip around to see his grinning face, no trace of fear or sadness from his past anywhere to be seen, only excitement for the promising future. “I could write a whole book of things that I love about you, but that still wouldn’t cover it all.”

“Stan?” your heart leaps at the glint in his eyes and the softness of his voice, things you want to experience for the rest of your life. 

“I love you (Y/N) (Y/L/N), with my entire being. I always have. When we were kids I knew I would marry you one day, I knew, even then, that there was no way I could live without you. So (Y/N)-” Stan pulls out a little black box from his pocket as he gets on one knee. 

“Yes!” you exclaim a little too loudly as soon as he flips the lid open. The diamond is sparkling up at you, your eyes fill with tears. 

“I didn’t even get to finish,” Stan pouts, humor and happiness twinkling in his eyes.

“I don’t care,” he laughs, sliding the one carat ring on your finger. It’s a perfect fit, meaning good luck through some old superstition. “Just kiss me.”

Stan shoots up from the ground, grabbing your cheek in one hand and caressing it softly, the other slipping into your hair. You pull greedily at the front of his freshly ironed button up as he deepens the kiss. A moan escapes one of you, and from the sounds of how deep it is, you’re sure it was Stan.  

“Get a room,” Richie wolf whistles, you and Stan pull away embarrassed. 

“I can't wait until I can finally call you Mrs. Uris,” he breathes, ignoring Richie, as he rests his forehead on yours. 

“Neither can I,” you close the distance and kiss him again, not caring about the audience, or the quiet sound of disgust from Eddie. Just because he makes out with Richie often, it doesn’t stop the thought of thousands of germs being passed back and forth when he sees someone else kiss.  

You finally get your happy ending with Stan, after all of those shitty years without him, you two will never be apart again. And there is no better way to start the rest of forever together than with the help of the losers, your chosen family.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control: The Epilogue

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to SJ Maas

Feysand and Elriel

Completed Masterlist Link!!! 

(a very short) EPILOGUE

~~~Elain~~~

“Go Feyre!!” I screamed from the stands. 

On deck, standing in the group of Prythian University swimmers next to the pool, I caught sight of Azriel cheering my sister on, as well. Feyre was actually doing really well tonight--she’d slid into the C Final of the 200 free this morning, and was now on track to move up several spots if she could keep up her pace. 

“Come on Feyre!” Every other spectator in the building was shouting around me. I’d never been to a conference championship before--I’d had a big exam the weekend of the swim meet last year. I’d stayed at Mortal U to study instead of traveling to watch Feyre. 

It was insanely loud inside the building, and I intended on adding my voice to the cacophony of cheers and shouts around me until Feyre touched the wall.

Twenty seconds later, my voice hoarse, I watched Feyre win her heat. That meant she’d gotten seventeenth in the most competitive conference in the country!! She’d scored points for the team! And the point totals looked like the girls’ team was on track to get top three overall, as well.

I shot her a text congratulating her, knowing I wouldn’t hear from her for a while, and settled in to watch the rest of the meet. 

A few hours later, after watching Prythian women be announced for winning second in the meet, and the men achieving third, I headed outside to wait for Feyre and Azriel. Azriel had B-finaled tonight, placing tenth in his event and going a best time. 

Feyre came out, surrounded by her friends, and I bolted for her. “Congratulations!!!” I shouted, throwing my arms around her shoulders. She hugged me back tightly. 

“Thanks Elain! I’m so glad you could come.” She dropped her voice, eyes shifting to glance at the coaches a few yards away, talking to a few swimmers and their parents. “Are you coming out with us?”

“You’re going out?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course! Last day of the meet, it’s been over two months since any of us have been allowed to drink. Dry season is officially over for those of us not qualified for nationals--it’s time to party.” 

I grinned at my sister’s excitement, overjoyed to see how happy she was, and knowing that part of her happiness was because of her success that night. 

I felt a presence behind me before Azriel’s arms encircled my waist, his muscular body pressing against mine. “Hey,” he said in my ear.

I turned. “Hey there. Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.” I kissed him briefly, fully aware of the large crowd of Prythian swimmers, parents and coaches around us--not to mention the groups from other teams also spilling out of the aquatic complex. 

“Thanks. Glad you could be there.” 

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” 

He lowered his voice. “You coming out?”

“Oh my God, is that all you swimmers can think of at a time like this?”

He gave me a look that said it was, in fact, all the swimmers could think of. Dry season--the time required by the team captains that all team members must refrain from drinking until the end of the season--had been wearing on everyone. Being a college student and unable to let loose from time to time was quite a challenge for most kids on the team. I knew Prythian’s dry season had started on New Year’s Day. So it had been a long while since Azriel had had a drink. 

“I’m coming,” I sighed, but secretly was very excited to go out with my friends again. 

He threw his arm across my shoulders and we started walking across the parking lot, leaving our group behind for the moment. 

“I love you,” he exhaled, grinning up at the starry night before he looked down at me nervously.

I stopped in my tracks, turning to face him. “I love you too.” 

And I didn’t give a damn about all the people surrounding us as I tugged his mouth down to mine and kissed him as though we were the only ones in that parking lot.

-------

~~~Feyre~~~

Rhys held my hand as we traipsed across the parking lot. I squeezed his fingers, trying to get a good look at his face. 

“I know you placed higher last year, but are you happy with how you swam this week?”

He nodded, keeping his eyes forward.

“Rhys. Your injury put you out for essentially two months and you still got ninth at Conference. And you dropped a second. You should be proud of yourself.” 

He let go of my hand as we split up to get into his car, me in the passenger seat, him in the driver’s.  

“You’re right. And I am happy. I’ve got one year left; I’ll have to make that count.”

I frowned. “You’re only saying that cause you know that’s what I want you to say--want you to feel.” 

He started the car, but left it in park as he turned his body to face mine. “No, I’m saying that because I don’t want my stupid disappointment to take away from how much of a badass you were tonight. And all week--you cut time in all three of your events. And you finaled. So, I think we need to forget about me coming up slightly short for reasons that were out of my control and focus on my amazing girlfriend instead.”

“Well when you put it that way,” I joked, even as his words made me smile.

“Yep. We definitely need to focus on my smart, beautiful, frustrating, badass girlfriend who also happens to be one of the most elite athletes I’ve ever known. And not just in the pool--if you know what I mean.” He winked.

I pushed his shoulder, gesturing for him to hurry up and drive away already. “Pig. Take me to a bar, please.” 

“Your wish is my command,” he said solemnly, placing his hand on my thigh as he headed straight for Rita’s.

I set my hand on top of his, staring out the window at the people still streaming out of the complex doors, at the cars fighting to get to Main Street, at the exceptionally bright stars hanging overhead. 

I’d done it. I’d picked myself up and found my passion for my sport again. 

I hadn’t gone a best time in any of my events for several years--not since I was a senior in high school. Being able to PR even though I was older and a little more burnt out made me feel like I was on top of the world.

And that was why I swam. I loved my teammates, and I was so lucky that swimming had brought me Cassian, Azriel, Amren, Mor, and Rhysand. But succeeding at something I’d been passionate about for years made me feel a way that nothing else could. The satisfaction of achieving the goals I’d set for myself years ago filled me with a glow that I had missed for a long while.

“Hey,” I said as Rhys parked a few blocks down from the bar. 

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks for not letting me give up all those months ago.”

“What are teammates for?” He asked, reminding me of the night he’d driven me far away from the horrid toxicity of that Halloween night. 

I leaned across the center console and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what teammates are for, exactly, but I’d be stupid to argue against it,” he said, making me laugh before he captured my mouth with his again. 

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

THE END!!!

Thank you so SO much to everyone who has read this fic, from those of you who have been here for a while to those who are just now catching up to the end:) It was a joy to write and I can’t believe I followed through and finished it. 

Just FYI, I should be starting a new fic next week, called What To Expect When You’re (Not) Expecting. Check it out if you want some more Feysand;) 

THANKS EVERYONE LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEEE

Tags: 

@aknymph​ @queen-of-glass​ @sleeping-and-books​ @fabfire​

[bechloeislegit]

2020 BeChloe (Mini)Fic Month - Chapter 3

AFTERLIFE

The Afterlife (also referred to as life after death) is the belief that the essential part of an individual's identity or the stream of consciousness continues after the death of the physical body.

Warning: Due to the nature of the prompt, there will be a character's death in this Chapter. Don't hate me.

{This picks up from Week 2's prompt "Quarantine."}

The BAs were having a full rehearsal one week before the State Acapella Championship when they were interrupted by Beca's dad.

"Dad?" Beca said upon seeing him enter the Auditorium. "What are you doing here?"

"Beca, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Beca nodded and turned to the group.

"Great job today, everyone," Beca said. "I'm calling it. Get out of here and have a great weekend."

The girls started gathering their belongings, and Beca walked over to her dad. Chloe stood watching because something seemed off with Mr. Mitchell.

"Dad, are you okay?" Beca asked, seeing her father's red-rimmed eyes. "Did something happen?"

"There's no easy way to say this," Warren said. "Beca, your grandmother passed away in her sleep last night."

"Grandma Mitchell?" Beca choked out. Warren nodded his head and wiped a tear from his cheek.

Chloe jumped when she heard a heart-wrenching sob echo around the Auditorium. Her head jerked toward the sound in time to see Beca collapse into her father's arms. Chloe put a hand to her mouth as she watched Beca sob against her father's chest. If Beca was crying, something bad happened, and Chloe's heart broke for Beca.

"What's going on?" Stacie asked, also watching Beca and her father.

"I don't know," Chloe said with tears in her eyes. "I'm going to go check on Beca."

Chloe slowly made her way over to the father and daughter.

"Mr. Mitchell, is everything okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"My mother passed away in her sleep last night," Warren said with a catch in his voice.

Chloe let out a gasp as tears filled her eyes. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," Warren said as he gently pulled Beca back so he could look at her. "I'm going to take you home, okay?" Beca nodded. "We'll stop by the office and have you excused for next week since we have to fly to New York for the, uh, the fu-funeral."

Hearing the catch in his voice, Beca pulled her father toward her and hugged him tightly.

"Mr. Mitchell, if there's anything my family or I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Chloe," Warren said. "I appreciate your kind offer. I don't know what we need right now. We're still trying to wrap our heads around it."

"Beca?" Chloe said softly, causing the girl to look at her.

"Anything you need, call me, okay?" Chloe said.

Beca nodded her head and wiped the tears from her face. "Thanks," she mumbled. "Could you tell the girls?"

"Absolutely," Chloe responded immediately. She pulled Beca into a hug and whispered, "I'm really sorry about Grandma Mitchell. I'm going to miss her so much."

Beca nodded into Chloe's shoulder. "Me, too," Beca whispered as fresh tears fell.

~~ Afterlife ~~

Later that night, Beca had managed to get her emotions under control. Picking up her phone, she saw a few texts of condolences from the team, and it warmed her heart. She pulled up her text thread with Chloe and sent her a text asking the redhead to give her a call. It felt like only seconds before her phone was ringing and the caller ID popped up with Chloe's name. Beca answered.

"Hey, thanks for calling," Beca said.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked softly.

"No," Beca responded honestly. "But, I will be."

"Is there something I can do?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah, that's why I wanted you to call," Beca said. "I won't be flying back to Barden until next Saturday."

"That's the day of the State Acapella Championships," Chloe said.

"I know," Beca said. "Everything has been taken care of to get you guys to Atlanta, and that's where I'll be flying into. Once I land, I'll meet you guys at the Conference Center. I just wanted to let you know."

"I"m glad you're going to be able to make it," Chloe said. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Don't worry," Beca said. "I'll be there." There was a brief moment of silence before Beca spoke again.

"Hey, Beale?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let this go to your head, but I'm glad we're friends again."

Chloe let out a small gasp and tears came to her eyes. "We are?"

"Of course, we are," Beca responded with a light chuckle. "I don't cry in front of just anybody."

Chloe chuckled. "I'm glad we're friends again, too. So, um, I was going to hold rehearsals while you're gone. Is that okay?"

"I think we're more than ready," Beca said, smiling when she heard a somewhat frustrated sigh on the other end of the phone. "But, I trust you, and if you think more rehearsals are needed, go for it."

"Really?" Chloe squealed.

"Yes, really," Beca said. "I have to go. We have an early flight tomorrow. I'll try and call later."

"Okay," Chloe said. "Be safe and call me if you need anything. Oh, and send me the information on the funeral arrangements once you know them. We want to send flowers."

"Yes, ma'am," Beca said, ending the call.

~~ Afterlife ~~

Before turning in for the night, Beca set her alarm and sent a few thank you texts to her team. She laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling and wiping the tears that started to fall again.

At some point, sleep took her into the world of her dreams, and her Grandmother Mitchell was the headliner.

"Beca," a voice called entering the murky depths of Beca's sleep. "Beca, wake up, sweetie." Beca's eyes fluttered as her brain caught on to the sound of the intrusion. "Beca, I need you to open your eyes." Beca opened her eyes to close them immediately. They opened again and closed just as quickly as she was not ready to wake up. "BECA!" Beca sat straight up in the bed, her heart pounding. She swallowed and looked around. Her eyes widened, and she scrabbled back until her back hit the headboard.

"Who-who are you?" Beca asked the figure standing at the foot of her bed.

"It's me, sweetie," the figure said. "Grandma."

Beca got on her hands and knees and slowly crawled closer to the figure. Suddenly, the figure transformed and was now a human form. A human form that Beca knew well. Tears came to Beca's eyes as she whispered, "Grandma?"

"Yes, sweetie, it's me," Sophie replied.

"But how can it be you? You're de-" Beca stopped and swallowed.

"Dead?" Sophie finished. "I know. I am."

"Then, how are you here?" Beca asked.

"I could feel your sadness and came to comfort you," Sophie said. "It's what we Grandmas do."

Beca let out a watery chuckle because it was something her grandmother always used to say to her.

Beca let out a small sob and looked at her grandmother with tears streaming down her face.

"I don't know how I'm going to feel when I walk into your house, and you're not there."

"Oh, my sweet baby," Sophie cooed. She spread her arms wide and said, "Come here."

Beca closed the distance between them and fell into her grandmother's arms.

Grandma Mitchell held Beca until her sobs turned into hiccoughs, and she calmed down. Beca pulled back and looked at her grandmother.

"How can you be hugging me?" Beca asked. "In the movies, when someone tries to hug a ghost, there's nothing there."

Sophie laughed, and Beca's heart warmed. Beca loved her grandmother's laugh.

"The Afterlife is quite surprising," Sophie said. "My body is no longer alive, but my stream of consciousness, or spirit as some call it, is alive. I can show myself in my true physical form so you can see and touch me."

"Thank you for coming to visit me,' Beca mumbled against her grandmother's shoulder.

"Don't worry, my sweet girl," Sophie said. "I'm always around and will visit you when I feel you need me to be there for you."

"I love you, grandma," Beca said, squeezing Sophie tighter.

"I love you, too," Sophie said.

~~ Afterlife ~~

Beca woke the next morning with a smile on her face, remembering the dream she had where her grandmother had visited her. She got up and took a quick shower before dressing and heading downstairs. Her dad and Sheila were drinking coffee when she walked into the kitchen. Her dad stood by the center island, staring down into his cup. He looked sad, so Beca walked over and hugged him.

"You okay, dad?" Beca asked as her father returned the hug.

"I am," Warren said. "We need to leave in about an hour for the airport. Are you packed?"

"Yeah, I packed last night," Beca said.

Warren opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it when his phone rang. He let Beca go and answered the call.

"Hey, Matt," Warren said, answering the call from his brother.

Beca and Sheila could only hear Warren's side of the call.

"That all sounds good, Matt. Thanks for taking care of everything."

"Could you send that to me, Beca, and Sheila? We have folks here we need to share it with."

"Hm-mm," Warren said. "Hold on, I'll ask her."

Warren turned to Beca. "Matt wants to know if you'll pick out a dress for mom to be, um, buried in."

Beca nodded, and Warren got back on the phone. "She said she would do it."

"Got it. We'll see you at the airport in a few hours. I love you, too, Matt."

Warren ended the call and looked at his wife and daughter.

"Matt finalized the arrangements and is going to send them to all of us."

"That's good," Beca said. "I promised Chloe I'd send them to her."

"I have a few more things to pack," Sheila said as she stood. "I'd better get to it."

Sheila left Beca and Warren in the dining room.

"I had a dream about grandma last night," Beca said, causing Warren to look at her.

"It seemed real," Beca continued. "I hugged her and could smell her perfume."

"Jean Naté," Warren said with a chuckle. "Matt and I used to get her a bottle for every birthday and Mother's Day."

"It is her signature scent," Beca said with a soft smile.

~~ Afterlife ~~

"Uncle Matt!" Beca called out as soon as she saw the man.

Matt hurried over and grabbed his brother, Warren, in a hug. The two men stood unashamed as they held onto each other in the middle of JFK Airport. Matt pulled back from the embrace, sniffling, and wiping his nose.

"You okay, Matt?" Warren asked. "I'm sorry you had to handle everything on your own."

"Don't be," Matt said. "You know how mom is, was. She had everything planned out down to the music and flowers.

Warren chuckled. "That sounds about right."

"Come on, let's get your luggage and get you to the house," Matt said. "Before I forget, we have an appointment with her lawyer on Wednesday for the reading of the will."

"That's good," Warren said.

"How are your kids holding up?" Sheila asked Matt.

"They're doing okay," Matt responded. "I don't think they're really old enough to understand." He turned to Beca. "How are you doing, sprout?"

"I'm good," Beca said. "It won't hit me until we get to grandma's house, and she's not there."

The three older adults became quiet as they nodded, having the same feeling.

~~ Afterlife ~~

The ride to Sophie's house was quiet. Warren, Matt, and Sheila exited the car while Beca remained in her seat.

"Are you planning on sitting out here all day?" Sophie's voice startled Beca.

"Jesus!" Beca blurted out.

"Nope," Sophie said. "Just grandma is fine."

"You're scared the daylights out of me," Beca said, looking to her left to see her grandmother sitting there.

"I'm sorry," Sophie said. "Maybe I can wear a bell around my neck, so you know I'm here."

"Are you planning on popping in on me on the regular?" Beca asked.

"Maybe," Sophie said, causing Beca to grin. "I felt how anxious you were, so I thought I'd walk into the house with you."

"Is anyone else going to see you?" Beca asked. "Or will I look like I'm talking to myself?"

"They'll see me if I want them to," Sophie said. "But they don't need me as much as you do."

"Can you promise me that you'll always be there if I need you?"

"I always was and always will be," Sophie said.

Beca looked down, nodding her head. "I think I'm ready to go in."

"Let's go then," Sophie said.

Beca opened the car door and stepped out. She was surprised to see her father, Sheila, and Matt waiting for her.

"We thought we'd all go in together," Warren said as Beca joined them.

Beca smiled, and when she looked back over her shoulder, her grandmother was no longer there.

~~ Afterlife ~~

"Beca, I don't want to push you, but we need to pick out a dress so we can get it to the funeral home."

"I'll go do that now," Beca said and slowly made her way up the steps.

Beca entered her grandmother's bedroom and went to her closet. She looked through the clothes hung there and pulled out a sky blue dress. Beca smiled because it reminded her of Chloe's eyes.

"Rebecca Cooke Mitchell," Sophie's voice called out from outside the closet. "You are not having me wear that for all eternity. It makes me look like an old lady."

"You are an old lady," Beca said with a smile.

"Don't be cheeky," Sophie said. Beca could tell by her voice she was smiling. "Just because I am an old lady, doesn't mean I have to look like one."

"Okay," Beca said, hanging the dress back on the pole. She pulled out another and stepped out of the closet, holding it up for Sophie to see. "How about this one?"

Sophie smiled when she saw the dress. It was one of her favorites.

"That's the one," Sophie said.

Beca stepped out of the closet and gently laid the dress on the bed. She then chose whatever else she thought was needed and placed everything in a small bag.

"I guess that's it," Beca said, looking around at the same time realizing that she couldn't see Sophie.

It was late when Beca and her family got back from the viewing for her grandmother. She was in her room when her phone's text notification pinged. She looked to see that Chloe had texted her, asking her if she could call.

Beca placed the call the Chloe instead; Chloe immediately answered.

"I wasn't expecting you to call me," Chloe said, answering the call.

"I thought I'd save time," Beca said. "Is everything okay?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Chloe said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Beca said. "It's been a little weird, but my grandma is helping me get through it."

"What?" Chloe asked.

"Okay, so don't be freaked out, but I've seen my grandmother. And can talk to her."

"What do you mean?" Chloe said, sounding confused. "You can feel her around you?"

"No," Beca said and let out a sigh. "That night, after I found out my grandmother had passed away, I had what I thought was a dream. My grandmother was calling my name and woke me up. When I did wake up, she was standing at the foot of my bed."

Chloe listened intently as Beca told of talking to and hugging her grandmother. And how her grandmother helped her pick out the dress she would wear for her funeral.

"I swear I'm not making this up, Chloe," Beca said.

"I believe you, Beca," Chloe said. "The next time she shows herself, tell her I said hi and that I'm going to miss her."

"You're making fun of me," Beca said, pouting.

"No, I'm not. I swear," Chloe said. "I believe that you believe your grandmother has visited you. I just don't believe in ghosts."

"She's not a ghost," Beca said. "I hugged her and didn't go through her like in the movies."

Chloe let out a small scream. "Are you okay, Chloe?" Beca asked.

"I, uh, take back everything I just said," Chloe whispered to Beca.

"Hello, Chloe," Sophie said, causing Chloe's eyes to widen.

"Grandma Mitchell?" Chloe squeaked out.

"Is my grandmother there?" Beca asked through the phone.

"Uh-huh," Chloe said, nodding her head as if Beca could see her.

"Ask why she's visiting you?"

"Wh-why are you visiting me?" Chloe asked Sophie.

"I'm not sure," Sophie said. "I can sense when Beca needs me, and I sensed it just now, only I ended up here with you instead of with Beca."

"I was, um, Beca was telling me about seeing you," Chloe said. "Only I, I didn't believe her."

"Oh," Sophie said. "Do you believe her now?"

"Yes!" Chloe said, nodding her head.

"Good," Sophie said and disappeared.

"Grandma Mitchell?" Chloe called out, reaching for the empty space where Sophie was just standing. Chloe shook her head, unable to comprehend what just happened.

"What's going on, Chloe?" Beca asked.

"She was here, but now she's...gone," Chloe said.

Beca chuckled. "Yeah, she does that. Here one minute, and gone the next. I think she knows when I need to see her and then gets pulled back once the need passes for the moment."

"My heart is racing," Chloe said with her hand on her heart. She let out a small laugh.

"Beca!" Warren's voice called from downstairs.

"Chloe, I have to go," Beca said. "My dad's calling me."

"Okay," Chloe said. "I'll talk to you later."

~~ Afterlife ~~

Beca saw Sophie several times over the next few days. Her grandmother seemed to know when Beca needed her. Either to talk, or just get a Grandma Mitchell hug.

Beca was packing on Friday night when Sophie appeared again.

"Did you come to say goodbye?" Beca asked with a smile.

"I sensed your sadness," Sophie said.

"I'm going to miss you and this place," Beca said, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Don't worry," Sophie said. "I'll still be around."

"I just wish," Beca started and stopped. She ran a hand through her hair. "I just wish you had seen me perform with my group. We have the State Championships tomorrow, and I wish you could be there."

Sophie pulled Beca into a hug. "I'm sorry I haven't gotten to see you perform, too."

Beca sniffled, and Sophie hugged her tighter. Suddenly, Beca fell back onto the bed as her grandmother disappeared.

"Grandma?" Beca said. She frowned when her grandmother didn't reappear as she had expected she would.

~~ Afterlife ~~

The next morning, Beca's plane landed, and she texted Chloe to let her know. Chloe texted back to tell Beca their rehearsal time had been moved to two o'clock, and the girls were having lunch at the hotel.

Beca read Chloe's text and decided to head to the hotel and join the girls for lunch.

"Beca!" Chloe called out when she saw Beca walk into the hotel's restaurant.

"Hey!" Beca said as the other girls welcomed her.

Amy grabbed Beca in a bear hug, whispering, "I'm sorry about your grandma."

"Thanks, Amy," Beca said.

Beca seemed sad and looked around, hoping to see her grandmother. She got sadder when she didn't appear.

"Beca, are you okay?" Chloe asked, having seen Beca looking around.

"I don't know," Beca said softly. "I haven't seen my grandma since last night. She usually shows when I'm sad, or anxious and I've been both today. I, I think she might be gone forever."

Chloe put her arms around Beca and laid her cheek on the top of Beca's head. "I'm sorry, Beca."

"It's okay," Beca said sadly. "She said she'd always be here when I needed her." Beca let out a small sob, and tears ran down her face. "And I really need her."

Tears came to Chloe's eyes as she continued to hold Beca. After a moment or two, they separated, and Beca wiped her eyes. Chloe was grateful that the other girls didn't say anything about seeing Beca cry.

~~ Afterlife ~~

After lunch, the girls made their way to the Conference Center for their final rehearsal. Chloe stayed close to Beca, in case Beca needed her.

The rehearsal was a bit lackluster—Beca's sadness casting a shadow over the team's enthusiasm.

Chloe spent the rest of the afternoon just sitting with Beca until it was time to return for the competition.

Chloe wanted to do something to cheer Beca up but didn't know what to do.

The Barden BAs were waiting backstage for their turn to take the stage. Beca looked around, the sadness oozing out of her when her eyes suddenly widened, and she grabbed Chloe's arm.

"She's here!" Beca said excitedly.

"Who?" Chloe said, looking around.

"My grandma," Beca said. "She's really here!"

"I don't understand," Chloe said.

"Don't you see her?" Beca asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

Chloe shook her head but couldn't help the smile that came to her face when Beca started bouncing up and down. The rest of the team looked at Beca with furrowed brows. Worried about this sudden change in Beca's demeanor.

"Barden BAs, you're up next," the stage manager told them.

The girls got excited, spurred on by Beca's sudden enthusiasm.

"Let's do this," Beca exclaimed as the emcee announced them.

Beca literally bounced out onto the stage, followed by her team. They got into position, and Beca counted down.

By the time the Barden BAs finished their set, the entire place was on their feet, clapping and cheering. Beca grabbed Chloe and spun her around.

"What has gotten into you?" Chloe asked, laughing.

"I was sad earlier because my grandma was gone," Beca said, trying to catch her breath. "But she's here. Chloe," Beca said and took a breath. "This is the first time my grandmother got to see me perform."

Chloe looked around and smiled when she saw Sophie give her a small wave from the side of the stage. Chloe waved back, and Sophie disappeared.

Chloe wiped a tear from Beca's face and softly said, "I'm so happy for you."

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Anatomy 101***

Chris Evans AU x Reader One Shot

 Warning: SMUTTY, SMUT, SMUT, NSFW, cursing, choking, slightly older man/college student

 Word Count: 5.6k

 Note: Sooo, at this point, I’m just going to stop apologizing and giving summaries. I think everyone just expects me to be one of those writers who just have fifty-‘leven open WIP

 **Loosely edited**

**Loosely Proofread**

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 "Uuugh!"

    You slammed your palm down on the alarm clock. Its annoying blaring was really grinding your nerves especially given the fact that you hadn't gotten much sleep because you decided to go to the frat party last night and didn't get in until nearly four in the morning. You looked at the clock and grimaced seeing it read eleven.

    Why the fuck did I take this class? Yes it was a core class, but you didn't have to take it this early, you could have taken it in the fall, but you had the bright idea of doing it in the spring. Groaning again you rose off the bed and sat at the edge. Hating yourself some more for your asinine decision you dragged your feet to gather your bath supplies so you could get a quick shower. You walked through the hall with your eyes closed; muscle memory was carrying you. Not caring what was going on around you, you walked into the shower room, stripped and stepped into the hot stream of water. This was precisely what you needed, not only were you a little hungover, but you were also half asleep. Usually, you wouldn’t want to get your hair wet this close to class because then you'd have to battle with it to get it straight and the process took entirely too long, but now you didn't care at all. The water beamed down on your scalp, and you sighed thoroughly enjoying it.

    By the time you made it back to your room, you had less than thirty minutes to get dressed and make it across campus to your Anatomy and Physiology class. Doing your best to hurry, you picked something cute but not too cute. It was after all an 11 am class, and the professor was a boring old man who lost your attention the minute he uttered his first word. That was bad; you needed this class not only for your degree but your career. How could you become a clinical physiologist if you didn't understand the essential functions of the human physiology? You couldn't, plain and simple. You needed to find a way to get your head in the game or else you'd be done for.

    Hearing the campus clock striking eleven, you rounded the corner and ran down the steps into the health sciences building where your class was held. You gripped your heels tightly in your hands. You regretted the choice as soon as you stepped out your dorm and saw you had eight minutes to get across campus. On an average day walking, it took at least twelve to get to class. You panted and bumped into a group of students standing around talking.

    "Hey, watch it!"

    "You watch it. This is an education facility talk outside idiot!"

    Not bothering to go back and forth you ran up the flight of stairs and down the hall to the class door and flung yourself inside.

    "And that is why and how the cardiovascular system is easily the most important system in the body."

 Everyone looked at you. Ignoring the eyes, you hurried up the steps and to one of the many seats. There were only fifteen people in this class because everyone else was smarter than your dumb ass. You made it to the fourth row back and took the closest seat. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you tried to catch your breath. You closed your eyes and held your head back, thinking it was way too early for this shit.

    "Is everything all right Ms--Y/N?"

    Your head snapped forward and landed on the man standing in front of the room, half perched on the desk.

 "Holy shit you're gorgeous!"

    The snickers that rang out around you alerted you that your censor had failed you yet again. You pinched your lips together and closed your eyes; embarrassment filled you.

    "I mean--uh, yes everything is fine," you corrected and dug into your bag to retrieve your notebook and other supplies.

    "Thank you for the compliment, much appreciated," he said as he rose from the desk and walked around it, giving you the first view of his perfect ass. Your jaw dropped as you gawked. This was not your professor. This man was nowhere close to being your professor. Everything about him was the opposite. He was taller easily reaching 6'3, his eyes looked to be blue from here while your professor's could have been green, or brow, or green, hell you didn't know. This man before you was built like he spent two hours in the gym a day and didn't take any days off and his ass looked like you could bounce a quarter, a nickel, a dime, and a penny of it and it would bounce off and create ninety-five cents, he had a magical ass, a magically luscious ass. He turned around, and your eyes widened as they zeroed in at the crotch of his pants. You could see a subtle bulge, a bulge of a man who was packing a semi-automatic but that said semi-automatic was asleep.

    "Eh-eh-eh-em!"

    Shaking your head at the unexpected loud sound, you looked up to see him looking at you. You'd been caught. You averted your eyes and flipped to an open page in your notebook and began taking notes. Thinking to yourself that no man let alone an academic professor should be this fine, you took a few calming breaths and did your best to listen to the lecture. You found yourself getting lost in him because not only was he gorgeous he was smart, those two put together made him the sexiest man you’d seen on this campus. Before long, you found yourself having little daydreams as he spoke. You fantasized about his big hands squeezing your ass, his lips tasting yours, his thighs resting on either side of your cheeks as you took every inch he had to offer. In a matter of minutes, you were wet and getting quite hot and bothered.

   An hour and forty-five minutes into your two-hour class, he placed the chalk down and walked to the front of the desk where he leaned against it. His thighs pressed together, and you wondered what it would be like to sit across his lap. You looked around and noticed for the first time the entire class was females. You wondered if they’d known sexy, blue eyes and dreamy would be here. When you looked ahead there, he was standing in front of you down at the front of the class. It was so unexpected you jumped and sank back into your seat. It was then you saw a sly smirk spread across his face.

    “Ms. Y/N.”

    You raised an eyebrow to him, giving him more of your attention, even though he’d had it this entire time.

   “True or false, Dopamine is the human body’s pleasure chemical.”

    You thought about it vaguely remembering him talk about pleasure. Truth be told once he began talking about pleasure you zoned out and thought about just that—him giving you pleasure.

   “Eh-em, well dopamine is made in the brain, and the brain is responsible for most if not all the chemicals the body produces and distributes. So with that being said; true.”

    He smirked and licked his lips slowly. “What are the body’s connection and relationship with the pleasure center? How does let’s say the first signal or spark begin all the way to completion?”

    You knew this; you’d read in the text and studied it for an upcoming quiz. Right now, though, you were drawing a blank. As you looked at him you knew he knew you had nothing. How the hell could you think with him looking at you? It was as if his eyes were boring into you, stripping away everything you used as a shield, defense mechanisms, walls, clothes, shit you felt bare underneath his intense gaze.

    “Okay, seems you might need another way to grasp the material. Come on down,” he said. You didn’t move, you looked around the room, and no one looked as if they thought this was strange. When you looked back to him, he walked back to his desk.

    “I won’t repeat it.” The authority in his voice had you shooting up involuntarily. You looked around again and the girl nearest you rose her eyebrows as if to say you were in trouble. Were you in trouble, you thought? You closed your notebook and slipped your feet into your heels before you descended the stairs to make it to the desk he was now leaning against. You stopped a few feet from him and clasped your hands behind your back. His eyes dropped to your breasts, and his teeth scraped over the skin of his bottom lip. Surprise ran through you. There’s no way your professor just checked out your boobs, you thought to yourself. This was wishful thinking. You shook your head and shook the idea away.

    “Do you normally struggle in this class?”

    “Um, no.”

    “Professor Evans. That is my name, and that is what you’ll call me,” he filled in with authority. This time you felt the butterflies in your stomach. You swallowed a little more loudly than intended and took a breath.

    “No Professor Evans.”

     “So it’s just today with me you seem to be a less than sample student?”

    “How--.”

    “You showed up ten minutes late when everyone else managed to make it on time. You were barefoot when you came in and since you’ve barely listened to a word I’ve said. So, I ask again; is it just with me you’re not the sample student?”

    Speechless you looked around the room again and crossed your leg over the other. For some reason, your nether regions were tingling. There was no way this was turning you on, you thought.

    “I guess it’s just with you—Professor Evans.”

    He nodded, stood up straight, and walked to you never taking his eyes off yours. You lost all breath in your lungs; you couldn’t even think, his eyes pinned you where you stood. You bit your bottom lip; his eyes fell to them before he disappeared behind you. Without your eyes, you still knew he was directly behind you.

    “And why is that Ms. Y/L/N?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Class give me a brief physiology of lying, spot a liar. Go!”

    The girl you sat close to shot her hand up first then spoke.

    “When someone lies, Catecholamines are released in the body.  these are the hormones that spawn from stress, which is what the body is put under when it lies, professor Evans.”

    “Good. Anyone else?” More hands shot into the air, and he called on another student.

   “The body then has tells, fidgeting, sweating, and subtle voice fluctuations to begin professor Evans.”

    You rolled your eyes; these bitches were looking for an A++ today.

    “Good. Now Ms. Y/N, which one of those tells do you think I registered with you just now?”

    You bit your tongue; this was getting a little humiliating, and you didn’t like it.

    “You tell me, Professor Evans, you’re the one between us with an actual degree on the subject. Enlighten me, pretty please.”

    Once the words were out, he looked to you, his lips smiled, but his eyes darkened from a celestial blue to an almost the shade of blue denim jeans. The transition took your breath away, and you released a gasp, one that was inconspicuous to the rest of the class but somehow you knew he’d heard it. The edges of his lips turned up into an almost sinister smirk, one that made your stomach fall partially from dread and fear, but also from excitement and anticipation.

    “Be seated Ms. Y/N.”

    On wobbly legs, you hurried back to your seat and did your best to compose yourself. He continued to lecture, but his eyes never landed on your again. He went on as if you were invisible. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. On the one hand, you were relieved not to be under the intense scrutiny of his stare, but you wanted him to look at you, you wanted it more than almost anything. For the remainder of the class, you didn’t pay attention to one word he said. You just watched him move. The way his trim legs moved and how his ass looked as it was perched atop the desk made your hands itch to touch. The way his lips moved to form speech and the way his tongue tipped out every so often to wet his lips made your mouth water and long to taste his. You could barely contain the amount of arousal you felt. It definitely superseded anything you’d ever felt before. You wanted him, bad.

    “Okay, so that is all for today, hopefully, you have a new understanding of the curriculum. Go on get outta here,” Professor Evans said.

    Everyone got into motion gathering their belongings and exiting the room. You heard the girl that sat close to you speak under her breath.

    “Goddamn, he’s fine.”

    You smiled to yourself, and the two of you exchanged an all-knowing look that said the two of you understood the situation. When you grabbed your bag, you didn’t pay attention to how you took it up, and everything spilled out. You cursed to yourself, bent down, and retrieved the items. By the time you finished, it was just you in the class. You made your way to the door. When you turned the knob, it didn’t budge. It was locked. You tried it again and added some force, but still, it didn’t move.

    “What the hell?” Looking around the room you realized you were alone, not even the professor was in sight.

    “Hello?” No answer. You wiggled the doorknob again and kicked it when your frustration rose high.

    “What did that door ever do to you?”

    Spinning around you saw Professor Evans sitting in the front seat with his legs spread wide and arms crossed over his chest. Even like this, he still looked incredible.

    “It’s locked, how did it get locked? I didn’t know these doors even locked from the inside.”

    “Well, now, you do. I locked it.” He stood and walked closer to the desk. You felt an uneasy feeling in your chest, and a chill ran down your spine and crept around to settle in your belly. You felt as if you should feel fear and part of you did, but it didn’t grip your entire being.

    “Wh—why would you lock it? What is this?”

    “I thought you needed a little more—tutoring,” he said.”

    “Excuse me?

    “You know you’ve been watching me all morning, I doubt any of the material even made it in,” Professor Evans said.

    Trying your best to keep a straight face and show no emotion or shock you clenched your jaw and held your chin high; “Ha, I was not watching you.”

    “Do you prefer gawking? I saw you staring at my ass. I could almost hear all your dirty little thoughts.”

    You wanted to die; you were so mortified. Not that he’d caught you clearly sexually objectifying him, but he had the balls to tell you. At the thought of him having balls your eyes involuntarily dropped to his crotch. You heard a breathy chuckle and snapped them back to his face. He smiled and shook his head.

    “Have a seat.” You didn’t move. One, because you couldn’t believe what was happening and two, you were afraid of what was happening.

    “Now, Ms. Y/L/N.”

    Damn your need to please. You walked toward the front row of seats before you felt him grip your wrist. You looked to him with a questioning look.

    “Not there. The desk.” Obeying, you changed courses and walked to the elevated podium where the desk was. Stepping up the two steps, you placed your belongings on the chair that held his things. Once you sat, you crossed your legs and looked to him. He stood a few feet away, just watching you. He didn’t move though. A full two minutes passed in silence, then he walked to you.

    “Uncross your legs.” Feeling a little strange, you hesitated and searched his blue eyes. They were a bit darker than before but still gorgeous. You did as he asked and took a deep breath.

    “The reading and assignment last week according to your previous professor’s notes state it was on the physiology and biology of lust, attraction, and attachment. Is that correct?”

    You could feel the heat coming off his body though he wasn’t touching you. It made your body come alive. You nodded, unsure your voice worked. Without a word, he shot you a questioning glance, one that gave you the opportunity to rewind. You took a deep breath and swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

    “Yes, Professor Evans.

    “Let’s test your knowledge. What is the biology of attraction?”

    You scanned your memory hoping you’d find even the smallest detail from the reading you did over four days ago. He was fucking with you. Who remembered their reading from so long ago, especially when they had other classes they had to read for too. His eyes never left yours; it was as if he were trying to intimidate you or make you mess up. You began to wonder if he wanted you to mess up. He smiled as if reading your mind.

    “Ms. Y/L/N. Tick, tock goes the clock.”

    “Attraction is just a mix of chemicals in your body working together to fire off a response to the brain.”

    “What chemicals?”

    “Dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin,” you filled in.

    “What effect does each of those have?”

    “Norepinephrine is the chemical that makes one giddy, energetic, and euphoric; it can even lead to decreased appetite and insomnia. Serotonin, a hormone that’s known to be involved in appetite and mood, a lot of studies have shown that serotonin may have a part to play in the intense infatuation that characterizes the beginning stages of love and attraction. Dopamine is the feel-good hormone. It’s released when we do things that feel good and have similar effects as Norepinephrine,” you finished.

    You couldn’t tell what his expression was he was behind you. Suddenly you felt his heat near your ear.

    “So it’s just with things I say you struggle with,” he whispered. God, his voice sounded so sexy, and on cue, your body responded. You felt the ache of your breasts your telltale sign they needed to be touched, the heat swirling in your belly and the slowly increasing pulsation between your legs.

   “You forgot one other thing--,” Professor Evans took a deep inhale, one that broke you out in goosebumps.

    “Pheromones. They are a huge tell-tale sign of attraction—I can smell you.”

    You tried to stifle a moan, but you were unsuccessful. You knew he heard it. Soon he was standing before, you between your slightly spread thighs with his thighs grazing against your skin. He was hot—literally.

    “Tell me about lust.” His voice was low and filled with something you couldn’t put your finger on. Something that spoke to the heat in your belly and traveling down between your thighs. Clenching your jaw, you took a steadying breath.

    “Testosterone and Estrogen are the primary chemicals. Testosterone increases libido, and estrogen can also increase arousal.”

   “What kind of arousal?” his voice was now gruff.

   “Sexual,” you whispered.

 He closed his eyes and sunk his teeth into his bottom lip.

   “You smell—so damn good.”

    You studied his face, went over every inch of his beauty. He had not one wrinkle. His beard was no doubt one of your weaknesses. You were always a sucker for a full beard and a nice ass; he had both. Your eyes traveled over him, but below his waist was obscured. You recognized the desire pumping through you. You didn’t expect to see his eyes open when yours returned to his face. You licked your lips, and his eyes remained there. When his lips crashed to yours, you hesitated and allowed him to expertly kiss you. His beard was soft against your face as were his lips.

    You’d been kissed plenty of times before, but this kiss was different. This kiss wasn’t from a boy pretending to be a man as all the college guys you dated had been. This was a man in every form of the word, taking charge. You felt his hand at the small of your back before he pulled you to the edge of the desk, closer to his own body. You felt the protruding bulge in his pants as it connected with your pubis. Without thinking, you moaned and laced your hand in his hair and gripped the strands as he intensified the kiss.

    In an instant, your back was flat against the desk, and he was hovered over you kissing you better than anyone ever had before. His tongue teased yours. Feeling your anxiousness rise you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip, his moan vibrated across your lips before he roughly pushed your thighs back to meet the desk. As he pulled back from your mouth, his eyes skimmed your body before they stopped at the junction of your thighs. You laid sprawled atop the desk with your hot pink thong on full display. His groan echoed throughout the empty room; then he moved his hand to your pelvis where it rested possessively for a second before he balled the dainty fabric and ripped it right off of you.

    You flinched at the sudden action and the sting it produced on your skin. Professor Evans then slapped your sex, creating a wet sloshing sound. Your back arched and a moan escaped your lips.

    “Do you know why you’re wet?”

    You shook your head; you knew damn well why, but you sure as hell wasn’t going to say it. He smiled as he dropped down to eye level with your aching core.

   “Your body is aroused by my pheromones, so much so that the dopamine in your system is increasing at a fast rate, one that is intoxicating you and bringing your body into hyperdrive. Tell me Ms. Y/L/N, is this the perfect example for lust?”

     God, he was killing you. You didn’t care if this was lust or not all you knew was if he didn’t stop talking and show you what that mouth could do as he’d been teasing all class you’d combust. He dropped a kiss to your inner thigh, and you groaned. Your arms instinctively flew to his head hoping to pull his head to you, but he evaded you.

    “I see someone is feeling anxious. Answer the question.” You still didn’t want to. You lowered your hand to your sex and rotated your fingers around your wetness. His eyes automatically dropped to watch you. He slowly licked his lips as he watched you. Two could play this game; if he wanted to tease you, you’d do the same. You slowly dipped one finger into your heat and gasped aching backward at the sudden pleasure that filled you.

    “You’re so wet, show me.”  You pulled your finger out to show him how they glistened underneath the florescent lights of the classroom. He examined your finger before his mouth engulfed it. He sucked your finger clean, ensuring to nibble and flick his tongue around it. God, he was a tease. As if sensing what you were thinking, he smiled before his mouth dropped to your sex and began pleasing you better than anyone had before.

    Your hands flew to your breasts and squeezed, trying to maximize your pleasure. His tongue rhythmically flicked across your sensitive bud, and then he was sucking it into his mouth. The change of sensations sent your body into a state of heightened arousal, one you knew preceded an impending release. You couldn’t believe you were already there. It had barely been two minutes. He sped up the movements of his mouth, no doubt wanting to torpedo you into your orgasm. The heat in your belly furled out to every inch of you, and without warning, you whimpered, gripped his head ground yourself against his mouth. He didn’t let up; instead, he sucked your lips into his mouth before you felt his finger inside you. Arching up onto your elbows, you watched as he maneuvered two fingers in and out of your swollen heat. His lips were glistening with your wetness, wetness that looked to saturate his perfectly groomed beard.

    “Fuck!”

    He smiled and pulled his fingers from you then sucked them clean.

    “Not quite yet. You’ve been biting those lips all morning,” he began as he stood before you. Your eyes dropped to his hands at his pants as he began undoing them. Once the buttons were undone, you saw peeks of grey cotton. He wasted no time pulling down his pants and underwear until his thick need flopped out and bobbed before you. Your jaw dropped at the sight of him. Yes, he carried himself with unmistakable big dick energy you somehow didn’t expect it actually to be big. It—was—big. You couldn’t tear your eyes from him. He stroked himself once, then twice until your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

   “I want to see them wrapped around me,” he finished. You shouldn’t have moved as fast as you did. You wasted no time sliding off the desk to drop to your knees before him. Once you were eye level with his need, you licked your lips way too anxious to have him. You gripped his girth and marveled that your hand couldn’t even fit around him fully. As you stroked him, you heard his breathing pick up. Tipping your tongue out to trail along the underside of his length, you ended at his smooth tip. Professor Evans groaned and widened his stance. Continuing your tease, you licked across his skin for a few more minutes until you slowly lowered your lips onto his scorching desire. Once your lips tightened around him more than halfway down, he hissed out and ended with an aggressive groan.

    “Fuck, so good Y/N!”

    You noticed he used your first name and it turned you on even more. Moving your mouth up and down his length, you decided it was not the time to be cute. It was time to enjoy yourself fully. You had been thinking about this all morning. You knew this was a once in a lifetime thing and decided to fully let yourself go. Speeding up your mouth you increased you suction as you neared his tip. Every time you did, he cursed and bucked forward, feeding you even more of his lengthy thickness. After a few minutes, his hands connected to the back of your head, and he began thrusting into your mouth. His hips sped up, and before you knew it, you were taking damn near all of him. Every time he thrust forward, you felt the tip of him slink past your tonsils. You had to stifle your gag reflex and take everything he offered. You refused to back down. His moans and grunts filled the room, and you were happy the door was locked to prevent anyone from walking in. Although, if anyone looked in the peek-a-boo window they’d see you on your knees with your spit dribbling from your chin as your professor face fucked you. You didn’t care; the danger of discovery only made you want him more.

    Professor Evans pulled himself from your mouth with a loud groan and “pop,” “Face down on that desk, poke that perfect ass out for me.”

    You did as you were told, ignoring the coldness of the glossy maple colored wood against your exposed skin. The anticipation was killing you, and it showed with the slight shiver of your body. You felt his hand connect with your backside and you moaned.

    “I love the perfect jiggle of this ass,” he said before he slapped it again, and again. Each hit made you wetter and wetter. When you felt him rub himself against your opening, you flung your head back releasing your own grunt. You didn’t have to wait much longer before you felt him fully sink himself inside your needy channel.

   “Fuck, yes!”

    You felt his hand roughly grip your hips as he rocked his hips back and forth, building the friction and pace steadily stoking your desire. He felt so good, better than you’d ever remembered it feeling before. The heat from his skin scorched you from the inside out and heightened your pleasure. Professor Evans picked up his speed and plowed into you making sure that every time he connected with your body, he forcefully nudged forward stroking the swollen bundle of nerves.

    “Shit, yes, yes.”

    “You love this dick, don’t you Y/N? You love how it fills your needy little pussy!”

    Your panting grew louder, and you tried to hold on to anything you could find, the only thing close enough was the edge of the desk. When his thrusts slowed down the force of which he slammed into you didn’t. Each bruising thrust only made your eyes lull to the back of your head more. You felt his body hover over your back and then his fingers reach around between your legs to caress your clit. You hissed at the sudden increase of pleasure and knew your release was seconds away.

    “Oh my god, yes!”

    “What’s my name?”

    “Professor Evans! Yes, fuck this tight little pussy!”

    “God damn right it’s tight. It’s been waiting for a real man to claim it,” he growled out as he increased his speed but added a slight swivel of his hips upon impact. The change of angle sent you over the edge.

    “Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck! I’m coming!” With that, the dam broke, and you hit the desk over and over as you came long and hard all over him. Still, he didn’t stop or slow down, not his pounding increased to an incredible speed and force. You knew you were going to be sore tomorrow and possibly the day after that.

    “Does this pussy love me?” you nodded wildly, not caring how thirsty you looked. You were parched and didn’t care if he knew it.

    “This pussy loves you! Shit!”

    You felt another orgasm build within you, your legs gave out, but he was there to hold you against him and the desk. His thrusts became sloppy, but they remained precise. He knew what he was doing, know how to handle a woman’s body, knew just how to make it do whatever he wanted. You felt his breath at your ear.

    “Ready for this one? It’s going to be big. Say yes, Professor.” His hand around your throat barely squeezed, but it was enough to trigger your orgasm.

    “Yes, Professor!” His grip tightened slightly, and his thrusts sped up. After one, then two and a third gut plunging thrust your second orgasm took over. You clenched around him and screeched through the intense pleasure. His hands slacked, and your body slid off the desk. He turned you to face him, and it was then you saw the unbridled need that darkened his eyes.

    “Your knees,” he grunted out through clenched jaws. You obeyed and opened your mouth. This was not your first time. He quickly stroked himself, and while maintaining eye contact with you. It was so hot your hand crept between your legs to swirl around your still needy soaking clit. Your fingers moved as quickly as his hand did and when the first spurt of his come splashed the side of your mouth yet another orgasm coursed through you. You felt his come fill your mouth spurt after spurt. It barely registered over the brain-numbing pleasure you felt from your final release. He cursed and grunted to his heart’s delight before you wrapped your mouth around him again and milked him for every drop he had left.

    After a few moments, he hissed again and released a small, vulnerable whimper before he slowly pulled himself from your mouth. You looked up to him and licked your lips of any excess before you teasingly bit your bottom lip. He smiled and shook his head as he began pulling his pants and underwear back in place. You slowly stood on shaky legs before you leaned against the desk. His eyes dropped to your hand and took it, placing your coated fingers in his mouth to clean them off. Just like that, the heat had been reignited. Staring into his eyes, you could tell he felt it too. His jaw clenched and unclenched before he stepped back from you.

    “You’re free to go.” You heard the click of the locks signaling the end of your little tryst. You walked around the desk to your belongings and smoothed over your clothes before you walked to the door. You could feel his eyes boring holes into you as you walked. When your hand touched the doorknob, you heard him call your name. You glanced back at him to see him holding your torn and tattered thong in his hands.

    “See you next class.” He moved the underwear to his nose and smelled. You wanted him again. You glanced down to his waist and saw the evident bulge in his pants and smiled to yourself. You weren’t the only one with an insatiable need. Turning you walked out the door savoring the delicious ache between your thighs. Maybe you would enjoy this class after all.

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[imaginedisish]

Atlas: Touch (Five Hargreeves x Reader) (The Umbrella Academy)

A/N: HEEEYYY GUYS!!! So this is based off of a request I got today, and something I personally wanted to write. (The whole Five comforting the reader thing) The title + kinda sad nature of it all is based on Atlas: Touch by Sleeping At Last. I feel like this may be kind of a mess, but it’s honestly because today was just such a bad day. SOOOO ANYWAY, THIS IS GONNA BE A TWO PARTER!!!! YAYAYAY!!!  Also, it’s a little shorter than what I normally write because of that...Soooo just be aware of that...now ENJOY!

Summary: Five comforts the reader after having a vision she really wished hadn’t seen...(Reader can see the future)

Warnings: References to murder, killing, blood, language, implied panic attack, a really terrible childhood, angst, cliffhanger (that will be resolved in part 2) FLUFF!

Word Count: 2,381

The wind is harsh and brisk, passing straight through your body as it eradicates any sense of warmth you once felt. A chill rolls down your spine, and a feeling of uneasiness fills your gut. The area around you was barren of life, save a large, vibrantly colored sycamore tree far off in the distance. Its presence made no sense, since there was no other sort of growth in the area. 

 It was almost dream like. You look up at the lightless night sky. Not a single star was shining. The moon was nowhere to be seen. It was dark, ominous, and strangely malevolent in sensation. 

“Where the hell am I?” You ask yourself. 

Then, you see a familiar shape lying under the tree. 

“Five?” You call out as you begin to make your way over to him. 

No answer. 

“Five?” Your voice echoes back to you. 

No answer again. You squint, trying to get a better look at Five. He wasn’t in his Academy uniform. He was wearing a Bowie shirt, with a flannel over it, and dark blue jeans. You walk a bit closer, and you start to see more. 

 In the center of his chest, you notice something dark, something staining through his shirt. In the center appears to be some sort of a hole. 

Then, it hits you. 

The dark stain was blood, and the hole must have been where a bullet entered Five’s chest. 

Five had been shot, and you weren’t there to stop it. You were too late. 

“NO!” You cry out. 

You break out into a sprint, rushing over to him as fast as you possibly could. “Five!” You scream as you come closer to the great big tree. Suddenly, crows burst into flight from the branches of the tree, their shrilling squawks shaking you up a bit. 

Finally, you approach Five. You kneel down by his side. Tears well up in your eyes. “F-Five?” You croak, swallowing harshly. You grab his shoulders. “F-Five, p-please. Stay with me, please!”

No answer. 

You extend your index and middle finger underneath the right end of Five’s jawline, searching for a pulse. “P-please, p-please s-stay with m-me,” You stutter. You refuse to move your fingers, even though you feel absolutely nothing. 

You shut your eyes tightly, and tears begin to stream down your cheeks at free will. You collapse in Five’s lap, sobbing heavily. You chant incoherently, “Wake up, wake up, wake up.” But he doesn’t. He can’t 

He’s gone. 

The crows that had left seconds ago return again, circling around the tree, cackling their cacophonous cries, telling the gods above that they had correctly predicted yet another death. 

Then, there’s nothing by darkness. “Five!” You scream as you open your eyes, pushing yourself up in your bed. Light fills the room, but you can’t fight the overwhelming darkness you feel deep down inside.

Rain patters loudly against the window next to you as a tear slides down your cheek. You take a deep breath, but it feels like the air that once filled your room was sucked out by some sort of vacuum. The walls feel as though they are closing in. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

What the hell just happened? You ask yourself. 

Your visions had been growing worse lately, but that specific one had taken you by surprise. Your visions never showed how something would truly happen, but they would give you some sort of intimation as to what would come to pass. Five and the rest of the Hargreeves swore to help you learn to use and control your abilities the minute they met you. They promised that with their help, you could dive deeper, and figure out more about your premonitions. 

It was hard, of course, when you couldn’t stand to experience whatever it was you saw. All your life, you couldn’t stand your power. Most of your visions came on without warning, and depicted terrible, horrendous things. Worst of all, you were unable to control who’s future you saw. 

Yes, being able to see the future could be a blessing at times. But, more often than not, you felt as though it was a burden. You had grown up in foster care, which had only added to your stress as a child. Not only did you deal with a power you couldn’t control, but you had no one to depend on. Your outbursts due to your premonitions caused you to move around quite a bit. Every foster parent you had deemed you “impossible,” which ruined your chances at becoming adopted. Kids bullied you from group home to group home, and you struggled to stay stable. One fateful day, when you finally felt as though you had enough, you ran away. 

You planned to move to New York, and pursue music, the one thing that helped you throughout your life. 

You stopped for some coffee at Griddy’s on your way out of town, and that was when you met Five. The minute he sat down next to you, you had a premonition: Five would temporarily lose his powers, causing him to be captured and tortured by The Commission.

It was often obvious to those around you when you had your premonitions, since you essentially travel to a dream world in some distant stream of you consciousness. Five immediately knew that something was wrong. 

“I’m sorry, but are you alright?” He asked. You decided to take a chance on Five, and explain to him what it was you saw. There was something about him that told you he was just like you; he was a dysfuctional outcast, who simply wanted to be loved. 

By the end of your conversation with Five, about what you had foreseen, as well as your powers, Five decided it would be best for you to come back to the Academy with him. 

You had nowhere to go, no one to take you in. Somehow, running off with some seventeen year old boy who could move through time became your best bet. 

Over the course of the last few months, you and that very same seventeen year old boy had created an unbreakable bond. Your childhood made you feel unlovable, and Five made you feel the exact opposite. Five cared about you. He was usually sarcastic and nonchalant with people. But with you, he was kind, and sweet. He made you feel like things were going to be okay, or possibly even better than okay. 

Maybe things could be…good, just for once, You thought to yourself. 

Most importantly, Five was the first person to ever say those eight words to you:

“I hate most people, but I love you.” 

You hadn’t expected him to feel anything for you. Your whole life you felt worthless, and unwanted. But Five wanted you. He saw how incredibly special and important you were. 

“I love you too,” You said back. 

It was abundantly clear that you couldn’t lose Five. Not now. Not after everything you had told him, not after all of the late nights that you two had stayed up talking. You had built a relationship with him, and it was the first relationship that had ever truly mattered to you. 

Suddenly, a knock at the door brings you back to reality. You look in the mirror across the room, revealing your puffy, tear filled eyes and red, soaked cheeks. You swallow harshly, frantically reaching over to the tissue box on your nightstand. 

“(Y/N)?” Five calls, knocking again. “Are you okay?” You can’t speak. Everything hurts far too much. You look over to the door, and watch as the knob twists, and the door creaks open. 

Five’s crystal blue eyes meet yours. He studies your face, instantly recognizes how disheveled and destroyed you look. You break down again, simply at the sight of him. You sob heavily. “I-I d-don’t kn-know what t-to d-do F-…” You choke on your words. Five rushes over to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your shivering body. 

“What happened?” Five questions softly. “Did someone hurt you?” His tone immediately changes at the thought that someone did this to you. “I swear to God I’ll fucking kill whoever did this.” 

“N-no o-one h-hurt m-me,” You stutter. “I-I c-can’t t-take th-this a-anymore Five, I can’t d-do this sh-shit anymore,” You say in between sobs. “I can’t fucking do this.”

Five furrows his brows, and presses a soft kiss to the side of your head. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” He whispers. “Shuuuush, it’s okay, I’m right here.” Five’s voice is soft and low. He holds you tighter, rocking you lightly back and forth. “I’ve got you now.” 

You press your face into Five’s chest, sobbing heavily. You couldn’t breathe. “I-It’s n-not o-okay,” You struggled to say. Five pulls you in even tighter. “I-I saw something, F-Five. F-fuck, I-I c-can’t lose you.”

Five’s fingers gently come through your hair. “You aren’t going to lose me,” Five coos. But his words cut like a knife. Truth was, you knew you were going to. Everything felt so overwhelming. It felt like a family of elephants had sat on your chest, and your respiratory system could no longer function because of it. The walls of your room continue to close in on you and Five. 

You pull apart from Five for a second, trying to catch your breath. “E-everything is too much. I c-can’t h-hande my p-powers anymore,” You cry out. “I can’t j-just be happy, for once? Things can’t just stay good, for once in my life?” You’re screaming now. “Of course all of this was too good to be true. I don’t deserve any of this! I’m nothing, and no one. I’m worthless shit!” More tears stream down your cheeks. 

Pain and confusion spread across Five’s face. He inches closer to you, wrapping his arms around you yet again. You bury your face in his neck. “You are enough, (Y/N). You are more than enough. Everything anyone has ever lead you to believe about who you are, and what you’re worth, is absolute bullshit,” Five coos, his hands rubbing gently against your back. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Y-you d-don’t know that. I’m going to lose you, Five,” You sob. 

“Tell me what happened,” Five whispers. “Where did all of this come from?” He asks. 

You swallow harshly, preparing yourself to explain to Five what you had seen. “I-I h-had a premonition,” You pause, attempting to collect your thoughts. “Y-you, w-well y-you…” You trail off, pulling away from Five. You study his face, his piercing blue eyes, his chocolate brown hair. A single tear falls from your eye and rolls down your jawline “Y-you d-died. Y-you’re g-going t-to…” You can’t go on. Five pulls you in again. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Five says, his fingers combing through your hair again. “You aren’t going to lose me. It was just a vision. For all we know, it’ll remain a vision. It might not turn into anything more.” 

You sniffle. “I know what I saw. Five, s-someone i-is g-going to sh-shoot y-you.” 

Five stops playing with you hair, and he has no response. Silence looms over the room. Unfortunately, your visions were more ‘accurate’ if they showed a specific cause of death, and the bullet wound in Five’s chest was a clear and specific cause of death. 

“Wh-what a-are we going t-to do?” You ask, pulling away from Five. For once in his life, Five is at a loss for words. He always had some sort of response for everything. He always had some sort of answer. Sometimes, it came off as cocky, or smug, but regardless, he always knew what to do. He always had a plan. 

This time, however, was different. This could very well be the end of everything. 

Five swallows harshly, his ocean eyes searching yours as if it was the last time he would ever be able to see you. “I-I d-don’t know,” Five says, standing up. He begins to pace back and forth. “Do you know who k-killed me?” Five asks. 

“N-no, but you were under a sycamore tree. I don’t know what was so important about that, but that was…well, that was where I f-found y-you,” You explain. 

Five shakes his head. “Maybe it’s The Handler, or The Commission,” Five begins to pace faster, his steps becoming more rushed and frantic. “Are you sure it was a bullet wound? Maybe Vanya somehow escaped again? Maybe it was her?” 

You simply shake your head, unable to give Five a real answer. It’s impossible for you to form coherent thoughts or sentences at a time like this. Whoever killed Five could be anyone, or anything. Maybe Vanya did escape, and maybe she found a gun. Maybe The Handler caught Five messing with time again, or found something new to blame him for. Nevertheless, everything was happening so quickly. All hell was breaking loose. 

“Is there anything else you noticed about what you saw, anything that could help us?” Five questions. He stops pacing, and sits back down on the bed next to you. 

“Wh-when I f-found y-you, i-it was night,” You explain, sniffling a bit. You remember what he was wearing when you found him. “You had on a Bowie shirt, and a flannel, and jeans.” 

Five scratches the back of his neck anxiously. “That’s what I was going to wear today. I had the day planned for us. I was hoping you’d want to go see a showing of The Man Who Fell to Earth at that old theater downtown…” Five trials off. 

Tears continue to stream down your cheeks. “Th-then t-today i-is…” You don’t have the strength to finish your sentence. 

“Not if we don’t go out. Maybe we can cheat death,” Five’s eyes light up with hope. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

To Be Continued…

tags: @drawingsupernova

[dailyaudiobible]

12/21/2020 DAB Transcript

Zechariah 1:1-21, Revelation 12:1-17, Psalms 140:1-13, Proverbs 30:17

Today is the 21st day of December welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian. Today would've been my parent’s anniversary. It’s funny how you remember all these things when they come up. But I obviously have lost both of my parents, but I am grateful that they had a wedding day or none of us would be here doing this right now. So, grateful today for my parents but also grateful every single day for you, that we can come around the Global Campfire together no matter what's going on and relax, exhale, come into a safe space where all the things that are going on, they…they can wait, they can wait a few minutes, they'll still be there. But we may need a change of perspective before we come unglued about them. And maybe with a change of perspective we go back out into the day energized, restored, oriented to God as we take the next steps forward in our lives. And, so, let's take the next step forward in the Bible. And it has been a custom to read a book a day. That custom is gonna end here basically. We have arrived at the 11th of the 12 minor prophets. And this book is called Zechariah and we’re gonna camp out in Zechariah for a few days. In fact, all the way up into we only have two days left in this year. So, we’re gonna settle in here for a minute and catch our breath before we end the year.

Introduction to the book of Zechariah:

What we know of Zechariah is that he and Haggai, which we…we read the entire prophecy of Haggai yesterday. Haggai and Zechariah were contemporaries. Zechariah would've been maybe a little younger. His ministry continued long after Haggai and they were actually prophets in the same place prophesying about the same thing at the same time for the same reason, which is all centered around the rebuilding of the temple. So, Zechariah’s grandpa, his name was Iddo, he's named in the Scriptures among the first leaders of the priestly families to come back from exile with Zerubbabel. So, from that we can surmise then Zechariah was probably a priest or at least from a priestly family. And the name Zechariah means “God remembers”. And it’s the remembering of the covenant and the restoration from the remembering of the covenant that is central in this book. Si, I said, Zechariah and Haghai prophesying at the same time for the same reason about the same kind of thing, but Zechariah’s way longer than Haggai. So, there's more context, more scope, more material. Like Zechariah talks about eight different night visions that he experienced that sound an awful lot like what we’re reading in Revelation. They’re apocalyptic in nature which makes them highly symbolic. And what we begin to see is that God wants the centerpiece of the Temple rebuilt to be the centerpiece of the people because He has plans for moving things forward, plans of restoration, plans of good and not harm. But the people have to collaborate, they have to respond. And what they have to respond to is essentially what God says through His prophets, “come home to me, return to me. Don’t stay in rebellion.” And we’ll see that as we read through that Zachariah also talks about the coming of a Messiah. Zechariah is one of the texts that are used in the New Testament in reference to Jesus. In fact, we find quotations from Zechariah in Matthew, Mark, John and the book of Revelation as they refer specifically to Jesus. And, so, ultimately what we receive in Zechariah is prophetic encouragement and once again reminds us that God is the most-high. There is none higher. There is no competitor to His sovereignty, not even close. And if we will remain in a covenantal relationship with God well…well then, we are going somewhere good. And, so, we begin Zechariah chapter.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word. We thank You for bringing us into this week of rejoicing. We thank You for the comfort of community. And Father as we move through these days, leading right up to Christmas as we move toward the end of the Advent season, help us Holy Spirit to put ourselves in the position of…of the ancient ones, longing, waiting, expecting a Redeemer, a Savior to come. And You came and we rejoice in that, but we put ourselves in that position because…O Jesus we long for Your restoration, for Your return, for all things to be made new again. And, so, Holy Spirit some of these things are mysteries that are beyond us and some of our life is pulled in all kinds of directions during this week because of all the festivities but we want to stay rooted and grounded in deep intimacy with You almost as if it's our little secret, not that we’re keeping You a secret, but that no matter what we face, no matter what room we walk into and the conversation is going south in a hurry or no matter what situation we are pulled into whether that be envy or jealousy or pride or arrogance, no matter what we get pulled toward we want to have been walking with You, speaking with You, being led by Your spirit so that when we face those things and we see the little triggers that we usually get pulled into we can just smile, we can just smile at each other knowing that we didn't fall for the bait this time, we stayed connected in a covenantal intimacy with each other and we brought light and good news into any darkness that we face. Come Holy Spirit we pray. We can't do this without You. We need You. But we can do this with You. Come Holy Spirit in the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it’s the website, it’s where you find out what's going on around here.

And it's Christmas time and that's pretty much what is going on around here, as we…I mean…this is it…this is Christmas week friends. I can't believe it. And it is our intention to be releasing our annual Christmas party, our virtual get together from all over the world. And that's literally the truth. We have voices coming in from all over the world, and we plan to release that this evening. So, watch for that. And the other thing that’s going on right now is the Family Christmas album, just reminding you of that. You can stream it wherever you stream music. You can download it wherever you buy music. If you want a physical CD copy you can get that from the Daily Audio Bible Shop. But that is what we have created to be the backdrop, the soundtrack for Christmas around the Global Campfire. So, check that out.

And also reminding you that we released a new vocal single with Jill, my wife, singing “O Holy Night.” So, check that, you can stream that anywhere or download that anywhere as well. So, just look for Jill Parr, that’s P A R R, since that my wife’s…well…that’s her maiden name. That's what she was known as before she got herself all entangled with somebody like me. And thank God that she did or none of us would be here because I don't know how I could…I don’t know How I could just exist now without her and her support and…and her love. And, so, yeah check that out at iTunes, Google play, YouTube music, Spotify, wherever you get your music. Just look for her or “O Holy Night” and you'll find it.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the homepage. And I thank you. I thank you deeply and profoundly as we near the end of the year. I appreciate all of…all of you who have clicked that link. That is why we continue to be able to throw logs on the Global Campfire and to keep moving forward day by day. So, thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can it the Hotline button in the app or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian. I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Father God thank You for our grandparents and our parents, those…those loved ones who are struggling in their…in their everyday life, whether that be from dementia or Alzheimer’s or something else or aches and pains, whatever it is Lord we entrust them to You. We pray that You would be soothing those aches and pains, You’d be relieving them, You’d be healing them. We pray Lord that You would remove any confusion in their life, that You’d be protecting them from harm, that You would be helping them to enjoy their everyday. Father God we thank You for those that do know and love You and we pray that they would be comforted by You and rely on You during this time and all time. But Father God for those who don’t know You, we pray that…that You would be revealing Yourself to them, that there would be those in their lives that would be able to share the gospel with them and they would be able to understand and respond, that they might know the joy of knowing You, of knowing Your son, of knowing that they are saved and knowing Your love. Father God, thank You for those who are caring for our loved ones. I pray that You’d be supporting them and encouraging them and refreshing them and replenishing them, that You’d be giving them wisdom on how best to offer care. Please be at work Lord in Jesus holy and precious name. Amen. Hi guys it’s Michaela from…

Hey DAB family its Nick just asking for prayers. It’s been a long tough season of ministry and I’m just deflated, I’m just done, and I just covet your prayers, the hugs of God’s people that just will surround me and help me, give me the strength to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. Thank you so much for your prayers. I know that…that God will bless it.

I just wanted to say good morning to everybody and thank you for Daily Audio Bible. My family, my wife and I and my older kids have been pulled away from the Lord and we got…we got off the rails of our…our life with the Lord and we just thank you Daily Audio Bible family for being that beacon in the dark. I recently downloaded the app and became…listening to the Lord became slowly back to the line with my Christian faith and it’s helped me tremendously. I’m overwhelmed by the things going on in this world, but this beacon of light has helped me put back on the path and give me faith back in the Lord. I just want to say thank you. It’s…it’s helping me greatly. And thank you for being there and being that beacon of light for us who get lost in this world. It’s…it’s a dark world and it’s helping me build my…build my faith back up and helped me in life to pursue and to continue on searching the Lord and given me strength to help me deal with these issues in life and bring me closer to my family. And I thank you. God bless everybody.

Hi Daily Audio Bible family my name is Ben I am calling from Salem Virginia and just wanted to thank all of you guys for being a part of this. I can’t make up my mind whether it’s a holiday greeting or an encouragement or a prayer request. I got it all. You guys have it all. So, Brian thank you so much. I love this program. I just started tuning in this year, but I’ve been so ministered to by you all and this program, the prayer requests, the encouragements, moving through the Bible like we do. I’ve heard God’s spoken word on the inside of me and He has confirmed things as Brian reads and as you guys talk. It’s amazing. I…I…I love it. It is definitely a part of my daily routine and I am so thankful for each and every one of you all and I just pray that this ministry would continue and grow and that this is, you know, it’s eternal, we’re together forever. And I’m thankful and I love each and every one of you. I know that sounds silly, but I don’t know how. I love God’s word and I am…oh man my time is running out. I'm like Jonah I'm in the belly of the whale. I’m looking forward to being spit out. Not sure how much longer I have to stay and pray but I thank you all…

Hi this is Victoria Soldier just calling tonight to pray for some of DABbers who are…who are having the challenges. I'm trying to find the ladies name who her husband and her were planning on moving to be around family and you kept getting discouragement. I wanted to tell you to keep on being encouraged and keep on looking and God wants to see do we really want it and He's…just continue to pray and I continue to encourage him. I continue to encourage the lady who said her son went away to…went away to travel over overseas and his car and somebody had taken his passport. I'm praying for that young man. Lord in the name of Jesus you have your way Lord. Let him be somewhere protected. Let him be somewhere safe. O father in the name of Jesus you touch the heart of that young man. He's only 23 years old. Lord you bless him, you bless him wherever he is. You open doors even in the worst places. In the name of Jesus. I thank you Lord. I want to thank…I want to thank God for China and Ben, pray for their precious little…little…little brown and her are continuing on in the ministry and I pray for Jill and her coming and thanking her for…for the heart and for the love of God enough to come and…and just looking forward to enjoying her. I want to just say thank you to all the people and encourage those who are going through, those who are going through jobs because of this pandemic, those who are going through challenges because of this pandemic as…as Paul said when they were on the ship he said anybody who was whaled onto this ship that they would have a safe landing. And let's hold onto the ship because God is ready to bring us through out of this 2020 into…

Good morning DABber family this is Walta the Burning Bush that will not be Devoured for the Glory of Our God and Our King. I just heard Daniel Johnson Junior's call in with his praise report about the echocardiogram results from last year this time and where God has brought him close to normal. And my brother, I just want you to know that God's got you. God's got you. And thank you for sharing your life with us. Your job, your family, everything, God's got you. And I'm looking back at 2020 myself and I'm just thinking, not just 2020, the last…gosh…the last 13+ years of my life that I've spent with DAB and looking at what…what you guys have brought me through. There's some days that I would turn on DAB and I’d be so desperate to hear the word of God and so desperate for…for some sort of comfort or insight and then some other days it’s, you know, business as usual just listening to it. But you guys, my father's death, my sons drug addiction and recovery, my mother's death, you know, job losses, Ebola, now coronavirus, marital problems, divorce, marriage. God thank you for DAB. Thank you for this ministry. And I know that those of you who are listening, some of you guys in the same situation, know that we’re here for you. God is here for you. And, you know, as Daniel Johnson Junior always says, make it a great day. I love you all. God bless.

[prouvaireafterdark]

Earn It

Finally finished that Malex sex dungeon fic!

Inspired by @acomebackstory‘s post 

Can also be read on AO3

***

The number of secret, underground hideouts in Alex Manes’ life has, at this point, reached a level which some might consider excessive.

Alex would be inclined to agree if he and his friends didn’t have so many secret, underground things to do.

After all, Michael needs his bomb shelter alien lab to do his research, and Alex and Kyle might as well consider the Project Shepherd bunker a second home what with all the hours they’ve been logging going through the data they pulled from Caulfield. They’re essential, really, to every facet of their efforts to protect the pod squad from the government and Alex’s almost comically homicidal family.

Jim Valenti’s underground rehab retreat, however, is another matter entirely.

When Alex had first discovered it with Kyle and seen the bed front and center, for a brief moment he’d thought they’d just climbed into Jim Valenti’s own private sex dungeon. In those few seconds before all the pieces fell into place, the thought was… uncomfortable, to say the least.

Months later, as Alex watches Michael struggle against the ropes holding him in place on black satin sheets, the prostate massager in his ass causing him to leak a steady stream of pre-come, he thinks maybe, just maybe, converting that room under the cabin into a kinky sex dungeon was the greatest idea he’s ever had.

It started with a carefully planned coffee date at Bean Me Up. Alex had led Michael to a table tucked away in the back corner of the place next to a shelf with battered board games he’s never seen anyone use. Alex waited until the couple at the table next to them left before he brought it up.

“So, I’ve got something to ask you,” Alex said, idly swirling his spoon around the edge of his mug.

“About?” Michael asked, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“The bunker in my basement,” Alex preambled. He waited until Michael swallowed his coffee before he leaned forward and asked, “What do you think about turning it into a playroom?”

Michael’s brow crinkled in confusion. “A playroom? What, you got some nieces and nephews coming to visit or something?”

Alex laughed before he could stop himself and the expression on Michael’s face soured a little. Alex shook his head, grabbing Michael’s hand across the table. Letting his voice drop to that pitch that drives Michael crazy in the best way, he clarified, “Not that kind of playroom, baby.”

Alex saw it the second comprehension dawned on him.

“Alex,” Michael gasped, eyes wide and the grip on his hand tightening. His head swiveled to look at the empty tables around them before it snapped back to him.

“Is that a no then?” Alex asked, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Uh, no, it’s a ‘Why the fuck is my boyfriend asking me about building a room specifically designed for him to fuck me in when we’re in public?’” Michael whispered back, leaning closer over the table so no one would hear him.

Alex met him nearly halfway, a few inches of space between them as he shot back, “You know as well as I do that if we were having this conversation somewhere private, you’d already be under the table with your head in my lap.”

Michael hadn’t even looked ashamed at the accusation. Instead, he fixed Alex with a hungry stare, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?” Alex asked, and damn him, but now he was too, could see it clear as day in his mind: Michael on his knees under the table with his arms tied behind his back, his mouth open and begging to be filled by Alex’s cock.

“‘M always thinking about it,” Michael said, shifting in his seat. “That’s a problem because…?”

Not a problem, baby, never a problem, Alex wanted to say. He loves how much Michael wants it, loves how soft he goes when he gets it.

Instead, he’d said, “Because I want to actually talk about this, Guerin. I want to know what you would want in a space like that, what you would expect from me, what things you’d want to try. Think we can do that without getting too distracted?”

“I make no promises,” Michael says, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, “but I’m all ears.”

The sounds of Michael’s wet gasps ricocheting off the concrete fill Alex’s ears like music. He’s three fingers deep in Michael’s ass, a fourth teasing at his rim, and Michael’s desperately rocking his hips into his hand as much as the ropes tying him spread-eagle to the bed allow.

Just when that delicious chorus of ah-ah-ah’s is reaching a crescendo, Alex pulls his fingers free from Michael’s body.

Not for the first time tonight, Michael practically screams in frustration.

“Alex,” he moans at the ceiling, chest heaving. “Please, you’re killing me.”

To his credit, Alex doesn’t laugh—they both know Michael can get out of these ropes any time he wants. Instead, he moves further up the bed and places a kiss over Michael’s forehead before leaning back to really look at him.

Michael is a vision like this; body flushed and glistening with sweat, his curls wild and damp at his temples, a few desperate tears beginning to gather at his lashes. His trembling thighs are covered in bruises that Alex had spent the better part of an hour lovingly sucking into his skin as he played with Michael’s hole using everything from his fingers and tongue to the fancy new prostate massager that came in the mail this morning.

In all that time, though, he hasn’t let Michael come once.

“What’s your color, baby?” Alex asks, stroking over Michael’s cheek with his hand that isn’t covered in lube. He watches Michael’s face carefully, looking for any sign that this actually is too much for him.

“Green,” Michael answers, nuzzling his face into Alex’s touch like a cat. “So fucking green, but—please, I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”

He doesn’t say it, but Alex hears the I don’t want to disappoint you all the same. Alex loves him so much it takes his breath away.

He leans down to kiss Michael again, on the lips this time. “Do you think you deserve to come?” he asks against his lips. Michael shudders at those words, a crease forming at his brow as he tries to figure out how Alex wants him to answer.

Alex kisses his way down Michael’s body, particularly relishing the hitch in Michael’s breath when he places a single open-mouthed kiss to the shiny swollen head of his cock. He doesn’t linger and instead sits up and watches him, sure hands soothing his quivering thighs.

“I asked you a question, Michael,” he prompts firmly. “Should I let you come?”

Michael bites his lip and nods.

“Do you think you’ve earned it?”

Michael hesitates a second before he nods again.

“I think you have too,” Alex agrees, releasing Michael’s ankles from the cuffs keeping his legs bound. Michael breathes a sigh of relief so heavy that Alex can’t help but fuck with him a Iittle longer.

“Thank you,” Michael sighs as Alex settles between his newly-freed legs, hauling his hips up and onto his lap. He reaches around for the lube laying on the bed.

“Don’t thank me yet, baby,” Alex says, flicking off the cap and pouring some into his hand. He slicks his cock with it as he adds, “You haven’t heard my condition yet.”

“Which is?”

“You can come whenever you want,” Alex says, “but it better be before I finish or you don’t get to come at all.”

“Alex that’s not—,” Michael starts, but then Alex is notching his cock at Michael’s abused hole and pushing, sliding inside in one smooth movement, and Michael gasps, “Oh, fuck.”

Alex holds Michael close by the hips, leaning over him as he starts thrusting with no hesitation—Michael’s been ready for ages and Alex knows he can take it. Michael’s heat surrounds him, scorching and so tight, even after everything he’s done to him tonight that Alex can’t help but groan, “God, you feel so perfect, baby, so perfect every time. It’s like you were made for me.”

“Pretty sure I was,” Michael says in agreement, wrapping his legs around Alex and bearing down into his lap. Tenderness for Michael seizes Alex and he leans forward to capture his mouth in a kiss, pouring into it everything he’s feeling, all the love and lust and pleasure he has to give.

They part eventually and when they do, Alex drinks his fill of the gorgeous picture Michael makes, stuffed full and panting, sweat beading on his forehead and collecting in the hollow of his throat.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Alex whispers, grinding his cock as deep as it’ll go.

“Fuuuuck,” Michael practically squeals with pleasure as Alex gets the angle just right on the backstroke to nail his prostate. “Right there, fuck me, oh my god.”

Alex does just that, targeting his thrusts as much as he can until Michael is a fucking mess, frantically pulling at the bonds keeping his hands above his head.

“Fuck, Alex, Alex, Alex,” Michael chants his name like a prayer. “Please, ‘m gonna come, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Alex pants, feeling Michael’s walls start to clench around him. “That’s it, baby, come on, you’ve earned it. Been so good for me all night. Come for me, Michael.”

Alex reaches between them for Michael’s cock and starts to jerk him off. He gets a grand total of four strokes in before Michael is screaming, his back arched clear off the bed as rope after rope of come shoots from his dick, painting his own chest and dripping down Alex’s fist.

Alex fucks him through it, leaning down to lick up a stripe of come that managed to make it onto Michael’s chin. Michael turns his face down to steal a breathless kiss, moaning at the taste. His ass is like a vice around Alex’s cock and it sets off his own climax, Alex’s body shaking with the force of it as he spills hot inside him. He collapses, gasping, against Michael’s chest, not giving a single fuck about the mess.

They lie there for a minute, catching their breaths, before Alex can even think about moving again. Suddenly there are hands cradling the back of his head, fingers carding through his hair. Alex looks up to find that Michael has released himself from his cuffs. He can’t even bring himself to be put out about Michael breaking the rules, not with the soft look on his face.

Alex props himself up on one elbow and uses his free hand to gently grab each of Michael’s wrists, inspecting them in turn to make sure they aren’t bruised. Satisfied, he presses a kiss to each one and smiles at Michael’s sleepy face before he pulls out. Michael whimpers when he does, but doesn’t say anything as Alex rolls them over so Michael can rest his head on his chest.

“You still with me?” Alex asks softly after Michael’s had time to wind down some more.

Michael nods.

“We’ll talk more about it later, but are you okay?” he asks, running a hand down Michael’s back. “How are you feeling?”

It takes a moment for Michael to find his voice. “Like I just got edged into oblivion,” he says, ending on a laugh.

“You like it?” Alex asks, already sensing the answer.

“Yeah,” he sighs, snuggling closer. “Like you having that power over me. Felt good.”

“Good,” Alex says happily, kissing the top of Michael’s head. “Me too, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

Silence washes over them as they lie there, wrapped up in each other, neither of them ready to start cleaning up just yet. After a few minutes, Michael lifts his head from his chest to look at him.

“I love you,” he says. It’s not the first time, but it makes Alex’s heart flutter. He can’t resist running his fingers through Michael’s soft curls, eyes drifting closed as Michael leans up to kiss him.

“I love you too,” Alex says against his lips, “so much.”

Michael kisses him again, sweet and deep, until they have to stop because they’re both grinning too much.

“You know,” Michael says lightly when they pull apart, “for a minute there I thought you weren’t gonna let me come.”

“Well, it’s like I said,” Alex smiles, his thumb moving down to rest against the plush cushion of Michael’s bottom lip, “You earned it.”

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 22

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Monday

When Malcolm woke the next morning, it was essentially perfect.  Bright sunlight streamed in through the window strong enough to penetrate gaps in the drawn bed curtains, birds chirped outside, and Rose Tyler was sprawled across him, sound asleep.

Not bothering to stop a beaming smile he just relaxed back into the pillows, wrapping one arm around Rose’s back while the other folded behind his head.  He didn’t have to check the clock to know it was early, too early to try to get up.  If he did the staff would drop what they were doing to attend to him, and he hated the thought of pulling them from their routine more than necessary.  It was a fact of life in a house like this that certain things had to be done before the family was up, and he didn’t want to disrupt that.

Besides, he was busy acting as a pillow for Rose.

The birdsong outside combined with her soft breathing into a soothing melody, and before he knew it, his eyes were once again slipping shut, sleep reclaiming him.

No matter; he was on his honeymoon.

A lie-in sounded perfect.

-

He woke from his dozing by Rose tensing suddenly against him, and his eyes flew open to find her staring up at him.

“I think someone’s in here,” she breathed, and he relaxed to know it wasn’t their position that bothered her.

“It’s probably the maid, opening the drapes, lighting the fire and bringing us tea,” he replied in kind, conscious that the girl could probably hear them; the curtains weren’t particularly thick.  “She’ll leave in a minute.”

Sure enough, several quiet moments later, the door shut firmly, louder than necessary; on a normal morning it would’ve been near silent, and he knew she’d done that to let them know she was gone without disturbing them.

“She’s gone,” he said in a normal tone.  “Sorry, should’ve warned you.”

Rose yawned, burrowing deeper into his embrace to his delight.  “S’okay.  Good to know, though.  Does she come in at the same time every day?”

“Nine o’clock unless told otherwise,” he confirmed.

“Mhmm, okay.  We’ll have to keep that in mind- don’t want her catching us… in the middle of anything.”  She glanced up at him with a coy little smirk, and he had to swallow twice to even attempt a reply.

“Uh huh.”  Smooth, he cursed himself, tongue-tied; his imagination was running rampant, and at any moment she could shift and feel-

Her small grunt of surprise as she did just that had his cheeks flaming, and he stared up at the ceiling in mortification.

“Um…”

She wriggled around next to him, a weight a moment later on his shoulder telling him she hadn’t run away, had instead moved slightly closer.  “You said we were meeting Jack for breakfast,” she murmured.  “How much time do we have?”

Eyes widening he glanced down at her, surprised to find a barely-banked fire burning in her gaze, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

“Guh.”

Her expression cleared, a smile growing, and she reached up, patting his cheek.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break you.  Maybe tomorrow morning.”  Sitting up, she bent down and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth; not quite a proper kiss, but far more than a friendly peck.  “D’you mind if I use the loo first?”

And she was gone, padding across the room, leaving him in a befuddled state.

“Okay.”

It was going to be a deliciously unbearable day.

-

They went down to breakfast once again hand in hand, and more than once Rose had to use that connection to keep Malcolm from walking into a wall or door frame.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her, a big, dopey grin permanently etched on his often-severe face.  She wasn’t entirely sure what had him in such a good mood; the previous night was a bit hazy starting mid-dessert, though some things were clear- how he’d cared for her while she was sick, how safe and comfortable he made her feel.  She vaguely remembered being in the library, and a serious conversation, but the details were gone.  She considered telling him that, asking what they had discussed, but was slightly embarrassed about all of it.

Entering the dining room she found serving plates on warmers covered in all the fixings of a full-English- eggs and bangers, beans, blood pudding, oatmeal, pancakes, waffles, toast…  The spread covered half the table, smelling and looking incredible, and her stomach rumbled in response.

“Hungry?” Malcolm teased, releasing her hand in favor of putting his own at the small of her back, guiding her forward.  “Dig in.”

“Alright.”  Picking up a warm plate she took a little bit of most things, waiting until Malcolm had filled his own before going towards the other end of the table, where three place settings were arranged.  He took the head of the table and she settled on his right-hand side, and was just taking her first bite when the door opened again and Jack burst in, larger than life.

“Good morning honeymooners!” he boomed, efficiently fixing his own plate before joining them.  “How was your first night in Scotland?” he asked Rose with a wink and a smirk, making Malcolm groan.

“Jack-”

“Absolutely brilliant,” she interrupted, taking a sip of her orange juice and finding that it was, in fact, a mimosa, barely able to refrain from coughing in surprise.  “Bloody hell, is everyone trying to get me drunk?”

Malcolm laughed.  “Sorry, I think they’re just trying to impress you.  Want regular juice?”

She pursed her lips, considering.  “No, it’s fine- I just wasn’t expecting it on a Monday morning.  But, we are on holiday, aren’t we?”

“Don’t worry,” Jack smirked from across from her, “it would take a lot of drinking for someone of your new status to be considered an alcoholic, and even more to raise any eyebrows.  No one’s judging.”

“I highly doubt that, but appreciate the support,” she said dryly.  “Now, where are you taking us on this tour this morning?”

-

“I don’t know about this,” Rose whispered to Malcolm, biting her lower lip in worry.  They were standing a few hundred meters from the back of the house at the stables, a beautiful chestnut horse in front of her, waiting for her to mount it.  “I’ve never been on a horse before.”  A horse groom was holding the beast steady and still, hopefully out of hearing distance.

“You’ll be alright,” Malcolm soothed.  “I promise- Tardis is the sweetest horse in the world, perfect for you.  Just, try to be confident and it’ll be fine.  She’ll sense your fear.”

“That… doesn’t really help.”  Sighing, Rose rolled her shoulders back and nodded.  “Okay, let’s do this.”

“That’s my girl.”

He guided her to the steps, helping her up and onto the horse and making sure she got settled, occasionally pausing to talk to the horse and pat it.  He was clear and concise, and by the end of his impromptu lecture, she was feeling somewhat better about the idea.  “You know, there are easier ways to kill me for my inheritance,” she joked weakly, as he moved across to his own horse and swung himself up easily.  “This seems like a lot of effort.”

Her husband just laughed, the bastard, and trotted his horse over to hers.  “Sit up straight, keep hold of the reins, and stay centered,” he instructed.  “You’ll be brilliant.”  Reaching over he smacked the horse’s rump, and she lurched forward.

“Oh fuck you,” she gasped, holding tightly to the reins, certain she was about to fall to her death as they rushed down the lane at what felt like an unreasonable speed.  “Fuck you, fuck you, fuckfuckfuck- hey!  I’m doing it!”

“That’s it!” he cheered, and she didn’t dare look back, letting the horse go where it liked; a moment later Malcolm appeared out of the corner of her eye, pulling abreast of her.  “Here we go.”

Jack was just ahead, waiting for them at a crossroads, and watched them approach with a grin.  “Ready?”

His eyes widened as she continued on past him, and she called back, “How do I stop this thing?”

Their laughter was utterly unhelpful, and she swore that as soon as she was off the horse, she would kill them both- if she didn’t die first herself.

-

She slid off the horse in an entirely undignified way right into Malcolm’s waiting arms, clinging to him as her legs trembled, fighting to keep her upright.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” he murmured in her ear, effortlessly holding her up.  “You did it!  I’m so proud of you.”

Rose just whimpered in response, resting her forehead against his sternum, panting for breath.  It had been terrifying and exhilarating, and while she could see the appeal, she’d rather keep both feet on the ground.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”  He leaned back to see her face, concern etched across his.  “Rose.”

“Please don’t make me do that again,” she whispered, pleading, cutting a nervous glance towards Jack, who was several feet away on the other side of the road with his and Malcolm’s horses, tying the reins to a tree.  “I can’t- please, Malcolm.”

“Okay.”  He didn’t hesitate, nodding.  “No problem.  Let’s have lunch for now, then we can figure out how to get back.”

She nodded in agreement, finally feeling stable enough to let go of him and stand on her own.  “Thank you.”

Malcolm kissed her forehead.  “Of course.”  Taking the reins from her he secured them to a tree as Jack had done, and led her out onto the riverbank towards where his cousin was setting out a picnic blanket.  It was a spectacular spot, with a view of the water and the farmland on the other side, secluded and peaceful.

“So, what did you think of the property?” Jack asked as they approached, looking up from where he unpacked the picnic basket.  “Rose?”

“It’s beautiful,” she enthused, dropping onto the ground and wincing.  “God, my arse is sore.”

“Don’t,” Malcolm cut in when Jack opened his mouth.  “Just- don’t.”

Rose snorted.  “Everything looks well-cared for.  I don’t know much about property management, but from an aesthetic view, it’s incredible.”

“I agree.  You seem to be doing an excellent job, Jack, thank you.  I have one or two concerns- ideas, really- but we can discuss them once we return to the house.  The most important question, though, is- what’s for lunch?”

Jack grinned.  “Oh, you’re gonna love this.”

-

They spent a good two hours sitting on the blanket under partially cloudy skies, trading stories and food containers, getting to know each other.  Rose was thrilled to hear about Malcolm in his younger years, but was thankful that Jack avoided the topic of Missy.  Jack’s own stories were barely believable, full of adventures and travel and sexual exploits that had her in near hysterics.

It was so enjoyable that by the time they packed up she’d almost forgotten any troubles, though they came rushing back as soon as they started towards the road and horses.

Rose stopped dead, tugging Malcolm to a halt, waiting until Jack had gotten some distance between them to whisper, “How are we getting back?”

His mouth tightened as he considered her.  “Is it riding by yourself that’s the problem, or horses in general?” he asked carefully.  “I can have Jack take Tardis back on her own and you can ride with me, or we can have him go back himself and come back for us in the Land Rover.  Or I suppose we could walk, but it’s a good five miles.”

She looked from him to the horses to the sky, weighing her options.  “Riding with you might be okay,” she hedged, “at least, I’m willing to try it.  Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Malcolm agreed immediately.  “We’ll start back, and you just let me know if we need to stop.  Let me just go tell Jack.”

“Okay.”

Wrapping her arms around herself she let him get a headstart, following a minute later.  By the time she arrived it had all been arranged, Jack on his horse holding the reins to Malcolm’s, Malcolm on hers- without the saddle, which she spotted a moment later with Jack.

“Are you sure this is okay?” she asked, looking up at him, worried.

“Yes.  I mean, it’s not the best idea, but for us, it’s fine.  Like I said, she’s as peaceful as they come.”

“But… there’s no saddle.”

“That’s easier for her, and more comfortable for us.  I promise, it’s okay- just take my hand, and I’ll pull you up.”

It took several tries, but eventually she was seated in front of him, pressed solidly against him.  He had one arm around her waist, anchoring her, the other held the reins.  “Now, it’ll take longer to get back,” Malcolm said, leaning forward slightly to talk into her ear, “but we’ll be going slow.  Even if something happens it’ll be minor.  Okay?”

“I trust you.”  Moving slowly and carefully she half-turned to meet his eye.  “I trust you.  Just… let’s go.”

“Okay.”  And then they started moving, and after several hundred meters, she started to relax back against him.

Though she hadn’t been thrilled at first at the idea it would take a while to return, and her thighs were absolutely killing her when she finally slid off back at the stable, it had been wonderful to spend so long pressed against Malcolm, his chest to her back, breathing together.  In some ways it had felt more intimate than when they’d gone to bed together two nights before, made her feel so much closer to him.

She wanted more of that closeness, but with more privacy and less clothing.

She couldn’t wait to go to bed that night.

[traveling-couch-potato]

Korea Day 3

Since we bought a pass to see all 5 palaces, this Seoul trip is more or less dedicated to visiting all 5. Today planned on finishing up two more with our first stop being the Jongnyeo Shrine. We headed to over, wandering through the “Jewelry Road” of Jongro District which is more like a side street with small shops. Unfortunately, the shrine is very strict about their tour times and you’re only able to enter with a tour group so we had some time to kill. We explored an underground shopping center nearby but most of the stores were still closed but it led us to the Gwangjang Market (West Gate). We weren’t quite hungry yet since we ate breakfast at our hotel so we decided to tunnel through the market and head toward Cheonggyecheon Stream where there was a lovely stream-side walkway with benches, some foliage, and lots of pigeons.

It’s a Friday and the area was still fairly peaceful and quiet. Perfect for a morning stroll.

I loved the large stones that allow you to walk across the stream.

After walking around the stream for a while we finally worked up a bit of an appetite so we headed back to the Gwangjang Market through the South Gate to the main food area of the market. 

There’s tons of booths preparing food right in front of you but my friend took me to one of the actual physical stores of one of the booths called Soon Hee Bintae Tteok, one of the most popular stands/restaurants in the area. We got their most popular items: fried mung bean pancakes & pork pancakes along with a bottle of Makgeolli, a Korean rice wine.

Even though I was stuffed I always need something sweet to seal a meal so we picked up some Yakgwa from another booth. This is essentially a deep fried Korean wheat confectionary treat. I don’t know why but these were so addictive, especially with an Americano.

It was finally time for the English Tour of Jongnyeo Shrine to begin so we headed back over. The shrine is a sacred religious ground so they are very cautious with tourists. You can’t walk on the central stone path because that is used by spirits. The place was almost eerily quiet for a tourist spot.

Quiet pond near the front of the shrine. Unlike other ponds there’s no fish or lotus plants. The center piece is an incense tree which was meant to help summon the spirits.

Jeongjeon, main hall of the shrine. It houses the ancestral tablets of the most important kings and queens.

After the shrine tour, we headed across the street to Makercity Sewoon where there was a small fair being held. The inside portion of the main market is a bit run down but the roof offered some great views.

Nice view of the surrounding area and the Cheonggyecheon stream again.

The Sewoon Electronic Museum was more like a small room with a collection of old technology but it was really interesting to peruse through even though none of the signs were in English.

Once we finished we did a mini walk through of the Jongno District (which my friend describes as the Wall Street-esque area of Seoul), starting at Cheonggye Plaza. We walked along the Avenue of Youth Street where we browsed some shops, street stands, and of course I bought some food.

One end of the “Avenue of Youth”, a line of vendors and shops.

There was lots of street food available but when I saw a “peanut butter, cream, ham, egg sandwich” I just couldn’t resist trying it. It tasted like two sandwiches being eaten at once cause I couldn’t wait...not bad but not great either.

From here we headed toward Gwanghwamun Station where we made a stop to Kyobo Bookstore’s flagship store. There’s even a small stage outside where events and performances can be held.

Our next stop was Sejongno Road’s Gwanghwamun Plaza where there is a large statue of the admiral Soon Shin Lee.

Soon Shin Lee Statue

The base of the statue is a “turtle” boat, one of the battle boats that Soon Shin Lee commanded.

As we continued walking down the plaza, we were greated with dozens of booths that were part of a big health fair to promote nutrition education. On the other side of the plaza was a large statue of Sejong Te (Big) wang (King). There is even a museum underground which had an excellent recreation of the story of King Sejong. It has a very Korean-drama type filming style and it was incredibly interesting to watch.

Sejong the Great, one of the most revered rulers of Korea most well known for his contributions to the sciences as well as the invention of the Korean alphabet system of Hangul which allowed the lower class to learn to read.

Once we were done with the museum we headed to our last palace of the day, Geyongbokgung Palace.

First site when you enter through the Gwanghwamun Gate.

Geunjeongjeon Hall, the main throne room of the palace. 2 dragons are on the ceiling overhead.

Gyeonghoeru Pavilion, once used as an entertainment area for foreign guests.

The tour ended at the pavilion but the guide informed us if we continued down the path we would reach an exit that would allow us a decent view of the Blue House where the President of Korea resides.

Tons of guards and barricades but a pretty decent view of the Blue House in the distance.

We headed back out toward the main gate so we could head toward dinner. We were famished but I couldn’t resist doing a bit of browsing on Insadong Culture Road, a popular street for shops, galleries, and more. This included a quick stop through at the Ssamzigil Shopping Center where I got to try one of my friend’s favorite old-timey Korean confectionary snacks “yeot”

Beautiful tree-lined streets full of shops and art galleries.

A traditional Korean snack known as Yeot. It’s a very sweet almost tough taffy like candy.

The candy tided me over until we got to dinner. We went through the tunnel with a popular music store and onto a more run-down looking side street. The smell of pork filled the air. My friend informed me this street is a bit sketchy and we definitely saw our share of illegal gambling and drunk pedestrians but we got to our destination at Yoojinshikdang. The line was out the door but there wasn’t a single foreigner in the area (except me of course). For our meal my friend and I fulfilled a longtime dream of mine to try Pyongyang Naengmyeon.

I’m a huge fan of mul naengmyeon and bibim naengmyeon but I’ve always wanted to try the North Korean style Pyongyang Naengmyeon. The noodles are slightly less chewy but still quite hefty with a bit of a musky smell and the broth is bland but with a meaty undertone.

Since I have limited time in Seoul I did want to see the Gangnam District but my friend was exhausted and not much of a partier so we mainly walked around the area and of course if I’m walking that means I’m getting second dinner. Gangnam is a younger, hipper district and more known for their modern fusion type fare. I decided on a spot called Queen’s Black which I heard about online. They’re known for their black food items (supposedly colored by squid ink).

All looks unfortunately, very meh taste but it’s eye catching for sure. They even give you black gloves to eat it with.

I also wanted to check out the Itewon area which is known as a foreigner district and another younger person area. Once again, my friend wasn’t too interested in that type of atmosphere so she asked for some friends to show me around. We met up with two new people at Casa Corona, a fairly new bar in the area with a nice view of the area.

We didn’t end up drinking but the view was nice and the crowd was fairly calm and casual despite how nicely dressed most of them were.

The new people in our group said the bar was boring so we walked away from the area to find dinner (or dinner #3 in my case...) We decided to split a giant plate of Soy Sauce based Jjimddak w/ mozzarella cheese and a side of cheese fondue at Jangmi Jjimdak.

Really wanted to try jjimdak so even though I was so full I wanted to explode, I just had to give it a try.

By now it’s obvious my hunger is insatiable so even though I was on dinner #3, I still needed something sweet to finish off the night. I was having a great discussion with my new friends so we walked down to Coco Bruni, a cafe known for their chocolate, and grabbed some dessert. I had limited room so I went with the hot chocolate sampler.

The Tanzanian single origin hot chocolate was really interesting. Slightly acidic in a way that almost neutralizes the milk base so it tastes very light compared to the other hot chocolates.

This is where we ended our day of food, walking, food, food, and more food. I was so full and tired and ready to turn in for the night.

[theloniousbach]

HANGING OUT AT SMALL’S LIVE #8, 2-3 MAY 2022

A LATE NIGHT (21 April 2022) IN THE WEST VILLAGE

ALMOST COUCH TOUR

SEAN MASON/GIVETON GELIN, MEZZROW’S

NICOLE GLOVER with Simon Mollier, Dean Torrey, and Kayvon Gordon, SMALL’S JAZZ CLUB

Three of my favorite younger (younger than Sam K is pretty young) players had gigs around the corner from one another the same night. Had I been in New York and, more crucially, could I have managed a 10:30 pm set, I would have had a hard choosing which one to go to. Streaming solved both the simultaneity and old guy problems. I could see both and conveniently.

I got to know NICOLE GLOVER and SEAN MASON together as part of Palladium, a Wayne Shorter repertory ensemble. Glover stood out as she was unflinching in taking on the tenor part with intelligence, reverence, and fierce independence, but Mason, even back in the ensemble, was up to magic. Since, I’ve tried to catch both of them on their fairly regular late night archived Small’s Live gigs. Both (rather all three as GIVETON GELIN is with Mason most of the time and those duo gigs are elevated in his presence) will uphold the traditions with, again, intelligence, reverence, and fierce independence.

Mason often says, after a majestic 20+ opening suite where he in turn complements/prods Gelin’s explorations or charts his own explorations for the two of them, ”we’re just playing tunes here.” He’s not wrong but these suites are amazing for their taste and telepathy, exciting for how egalitarian the playing is. They never resort to cliche and every minute counts as they take up themes and move on. Great as this one and all of them are, the second half centered more specifically on two grand and recognizable tunes. The Song Is You is a particular favorite and they did well by it but it nor Someone To Watch Over Me (which could be mawkish) were far from museum pieces. These guys are quite young but they know their stuff. It is exciting and fresh. Gelin’s tone is impressively rich and restrained. It is not particulary apt and not that well (in)formed, but I wrote in my notes during the blues with a chorus of Parker’s Mood as a frame “Lester Bowie????” And, by that I mean, that there is a deep respect for numerous traditions that drive experimentation of the highest order. There’s something similar in Mason’s commitment to just playing tunes.

Glover is equally forward looking while knowing the nooks and crannies of hard and post bop. Except for mentioning her now Artemis band mate Renee Rosnes as a mentor for her tune The Golden Triangle, she rarely announces tunes but she is clearly mining those 1960s Blue Note and Strata East albums for deep cut gems. She has played in trios primarily and not shied from filling up that space. Her original collaboration with Daniel Duke and Nic Cappioco roared and then roared louder, but now with Dean Torrey and the fabulous Kayvon Gordon (steady and essential all night but in the shadows) gives her the opportunity to take up the space differently and to explore less frantically. The addition of Simon Mollier was interesting on several levels. He’s a fine player and the vibes, like the guitar, are chordal instruments that open up space for a horn player like Glover (she and Mason worked with Sasha Berliner in Palladium) who hasn’t often chosen to use a piano as a foil. I did a focused exploration of sax with guitar recordings and thought something similar could be done with sax and vibes, but it’s harder to find one without a piano to. I have no formed judgments save that Glover continues to let tunes come to her more so they breathe.

I won’t miss either of them and, if I’m in New York when they are playing, I might well have to drag the next day to go see them.

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior September 25, 2020 – New York Film Festival, THE WAY I SEE IT, KAJILLIONAIRE, STUNTWOMEN, MISBEHAVIOUR and Lots More!

A mite bit late this week, but it’s another busy week of movies though considerably less than usual in terms of ones I have any interest in watching. Oh, wait, did I say that out loud? Yup, we’re getting to that point after six months, even though I did go out to Jersey City to see The New Mutants on Saturday. It was fine. I didn’t hate it. Josh Boone didn’t rape my childhood.

Before we get to the new releases, we’ll start with the New York Film Festival (NYFF), since that just kicked off on Thursday night with Steve McQueen’s Lovers Rock, which is one of five relatively shorter movies he’s made as part of his “Small Axe” anthology that will eventually air on Amazon Prime. Maybe they’ll get some kind of theatrical release then but who knows? I’ve always kind of been up and down on McQueen’s work, loving his early movie Hunger, but then being mixed on his next few films (including the Oscar-winning 12 Years a Slave) but then loving Widows from a couple years back. There is no question that McQueen is a true auteur in terms of filmmaking, although sometimes he loses track of the storytelling in order to get artsy, and that’s the case with Lovers Rock. It essentially takes place in and around a “Blues Night,” basically a rowdy house party fully of music and dancing and singing, but as much about the meeting of Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn’s Martha and Micheal (Blue Story) Ward’s Franklyn at this party. It’s a fairly short “film” of just over an hour that beautifully captures the music and dance of the time, although it also gets a little too “arty” as tends to be McQueen’s wont. I don’t want to spoil too much about what happens, but I think mileage will vary on this one.

There are two more chapters to be shown at NYFF, spaced out by a week each-- Mangrove and Red, White and Blue – and I’m interested enough in what McQueen has to say about this West Indies heritage and some of the stories he’s telling within the series.

Other movies that have screened for critics already including Sam Pollard’s doc MLK/FBI, which as one can probably can figure out is about the FBI’s attempt to discredit King and take him down as leader of the protesting that led to the eventual passing of the Civil Rights Act. I feel like I knew a lot of what was in this movie from other films, and I didn’t really find that this added much towards my appreciation of King than what already existed. Honestly, I liked Pollard’s other film, Mr. Soul!, which he co-directed with that subject’s daughter.There just feels to be something more personal there compared to the rather clinical MLK/FBI.

At least that has a much stronger narrative than Song Fang’s The Calming, starring Xi Qi, which is the type of movie I almost definitely would have walked out of a press screening annoyed that I was dragged up to Lincoln Center, because it’s very much like some of Hong Sang-Soo’s worst work or some of the work of Zhangke Jia, both who regularly play the New York Film Festival. Sure enough, Zhangke produced this film, so that explains that.

I decided not to even bother with Cristi Puiu’s three-plus hour period piece Malmkrog. I was a fan of his earlier films The Death of Mr. Lazarescu and Aurora, but there just isn’t enough time in the day to see if this one goes anywhere. It’s the kind of thing that I could oddly justify sit in a movie theater and watch, but sitting at my laptop? No, thank you.

I also ended up watching Pedro Almodovar’s English language debut, the short film The Human Voice, starring Tilda Swinton as a woman who buys an axe at a hardware store and walks around a colorful and elaborate set with a dog, and then she gets into a long dramatic conversation (mostly yelling) over the phone with her lover or ex-lover. So yeah, basically a great showcase for Swinton, who we already know as a fabulous actor, and for the movie’s production design and cinematography. I guess I’m a little mixed on this. At least it’s only 30 minutes long?

There are a number of other festivals going on, including IFP Week in New York, which used to be one of my go-tos in terms of screening more obscure stuff between TIFF and NYFF – it’s where I saw Barry Jenkins’ Medicine for Melancholy one year and a few other cool movies since. But over the past few years, it seems to have less and less of interest, and I’ve barely paid attention to what’s in the cards with its shift to virtual. Either way, it’s going on now and through Friday.

Texas has two film festivals starting up this week, the more prominent one probably being Celebration of Fantastic Fest, which as can be expected is a virtual version of the annual Fantastic Fest, which I’ve heard is one of the best genre festivals in the country, showing some of the best of previous fests’ midnight tracks as well as many premieres.  It will kick off on Thursday with Brandon Cronenberg’s Possessor, which Neon will release a week from Friday, and then there’s a combination of new and vintage genre and horror films. You can see the full schedule here, as it runs for one full week and then through October 8, closing with Jim Cummings’ The Wolf of Snow Hollow. The opening and closing night films are at the Alamo Drafthouse Slaughter Lane, but all the other movies being offered free to anyone in the country, and then there are a few events like the annual Fantastic Feud, which is available to watch worldwide. Some of the film’s to try to catch include Chad Faust’s Girl, starring Bella Thorne; French filmmakers Ludovic Boukherma & Zoran Boukherma’s Teddy, and Amelia Moses’ Bloodthirsty.

Not too far away in Waco, Texas, the Deep in the Heart Film Festival runs for the next couple weekends. Nothing really jumped out from this year’s line-up, but only because I haven’t seen any of the movies being streamed. What’s great about regional film festivals like this one is that they’re “discovery fests” where you can go and watch a lot of smaller indies by filmmakers who you may not hear about since they don’t have “ins” at the big festivals where they’re guaranteed placement.

Before we get to this week’s new movies, I wanted to draw special attention to a movie from last week, I didn’t get a chance to watch before posting the column, and that’s Dawn Porter’s THE WAY I SEE IT (Focus Features), an amazing doc about former White House chief photographer Pete Souza, whose amazing career working in the White House under Presidents Reagan and Obama led him to becoming a conscionable objector to the current Trump regime by using social media to throw shade. In fact, Souza’s most recent photo book is called Shade, and it collects his social media posts and tweets of some of his amazing photos of Obama during his 8 years in the White House. This is just an amazing film from the director of John Lewis: Good Trouble, which came out earlier this year, and this one does just as much to show Obama’s humanity (and actually, the fact that Reagan had a lighter side we rarely saw in public) but also to contrast those two Presidents with the monster we have in the White House now. I immediately bought Souza’s book after seeing it, and I’m hoping more people will learn about him through this film. This might already be gone from its limited theatrical release by the time you read it, but it will air on MSNBC on October 9 at 10PM.

Because I like to start or continue with the good, I will follow up one great doc with another one, and that’s April Wright’s STUNTWOMEN: THE UNTOLD HOLLYWOOD STORY (Shout Studios), which is fairly self-explanatory. It builds on the ideas in Mollie Gregory’s 2015 book and has interviews and anecdotes from some of the youngest and newest in the stunt field to some of the legends, like Jeannie Epper from the Wonder Woman and Bionic Woman TV shows, and Donna Keegan, who has been almost all of the coolest ‘80s and ‘90s action movies including Robocop, True Lies and others. Narrated by Michelle Rodriguez, the movie mixes the actual stuntwomen like Amy Johnston, Jennifer Caputo, Debbie and Donna Evans and Michelle Jubilee Gonzalez with a few directors like Paul Feig and Anne Fletcher. (Before you ask, Zoe Bell is mentioned but doesn’t actually talk about herself or her career on camera.) I just really enjoyed hearing these stories and learning more about a profession I really don’t know much about.  I definitely recommend this doc to anyone who wants to know more about film history and the behind-the-scenes stuff. (I also wrote a feature on this movie with interviews with three of the stuntwomen from the movie over on Below the Line.)

Focus Features is also releasing Miranda July’s new movie KAJILLIONAIRE, presumably at one point on PVOD but now theatrically as well after picking it up at Sundance where there were rave reviews for it. It stars Richard Jenkins, Debra Winger (yes, that one) and Evan Rachel Wood as a family of thieves who are always planning their next grift to get the $1,500 for their overdue rent. It’s then that they meet Gina Rodriguez’s Melanie, and bring her into their plans, much to the chagrin of Wood’s “Old Dolio,” (Yes, that’s the name of her character – don’t ask!), who already has issues with her parents not showing her the love a child usually expects.  

You know, I absolutely loved July’s earlier Sundance film You and Me and Everybody We Know, so hearing that she was making a heist movie and one with such an interesting cast definitely made me curious about Kajillionaire, which got absolute raves out of this year’s Sundance. It just sounded like it could be very cool, and I genuinely have been a fan of both Evans and Jenkins for a long time. I wasn’t nearly as familiar with Rodriguez’s work on Jane the Virgin, but I definitely became a bigger fan of her after this movie.

If you’re familiar with July’s other work, you know that she’s first and foremost an artist and maybe can be considered a bit of a performance artist with film being just one of her mediums. Being familiar with some of her past work might prepare you for how strange Kajillionaire is, especially in the set-up when we meet the Dyne family – Robert, Theresa and “Old Dolio” (ugh) – and we learn about their suitably quirky lifestyle of trying to con people out of money in order to pay their aggravated landlord Stovik (Mark Ivanir).  When we meet them, they’re three months past due, and Stovik has had enough, so they have to come up with a quick scheme. “Old Dolio” has an idea to scam an airline, and during this plan, they meet Rodriguez’s bubbly Melanie, who is keen on joining this strange family, for one reason. Robert seems more interested in Melanie for sexual reasons.

Going into Kajillionaire realizing how strange July tends to go with her material – whether it’s the Dyne’s living space or their general behavior – I still had trouble getting past not only the name of Evans’ character but her entire dour, emotionless and ultimately monotone performance. (Imagine Evans auditioning for the role of Bill or Ted in a female remake, and that’s her character.)  Evans is such a vibrant performer and maybe she wanted to play down her looks that are played up on HBO’s Westworld, but this character goes so far into the world of July’s headspace that I’m not sure who could possibly relate to her. As with much of July’s work, there are elements that people can relate to, possibly the way Evans’ character doesn’t feel the love from her parents that they immediately give to Melanie, as well as the sapphic bond that develops between the two younger women, but it’s all wrapped up in the most cockamamie attempt at a weird remake of The Grifters possible. Except that the Dynes are really bad scam artists, and the movie as a whole never really goes anywhere.

On the other hand, Rodriguez is almost the polar opposite of Evans, being vibrant and with a big personality and so many more layers, and she almost saves the movie at times. Otherwise, I had high hopes for Kajillionaire and was extremely disappointed, because July has yet to deliver on that earlier film I loved so much, and this is no different.

Honestly, I have no idea why Brad Pitt’s Plan B, let alone Focus Features, shelled out money for this movie thinking it might make them money, as there’s just nothing sellable about it… not the cast, not the premise and certainly not the overall tone. I guess this will be one I will never figure out. (Even so, if you like Jenkins, at least there’s another movie with him out this week, but that one isn’t much better unfortunately.)

On the other hand, one of the nice surprises of the week was Philippa Lowthorpe’s MISBEHAVIOUR (Shout! Factory), starring Keira Knightley as Sally Alexander, a young woman going to university who falls in with the Women’s Liberation Movement of London and their plots to disrupt the 1970 Miss World competition due to the way it depicts women. The movie also stars Jessie Buckley as one of the pluckier young women trying to take down the “patriarchy,” Gugu Mbatha-Raw as Miss Grenada, Rhys Ifans as Eric Morley, who runs Miss World with his wife Julia (Keeley Hawes) and… here’s where it gets weird… Greg Kinnear as Bob Hope.

As far as the latter goes, the movie opens with Kinnear’s Hope performing for the troops in Vietnam for the USO, and I honestly had no idea it was Kinnear, nor did I realize it until about Hope’s third appearance and I finally looked it up and realized it w as him.

But Hope is a very small part of the movie that focuses on three specific women, all real people, as played by Knightley, Buckley and Mbatha-Raw.  Alexander is a divorced young woman with a daughter who is trying to get through life with some help from her disapproving mother, but she’s also adamant about being able to break through the glass wall and meeting Buckley’s Jo Robinson and her group of rebellious young women gives Alexander the motivation to do something.

On the one hand, Misbehaviour is a quaint British period piece, much like a lot of Knightley’s previous films, but it’s also another important story from the struggle of women to get equal rights that seems appropriately-timed to current times. It’s as pretty amazing story what the Womens Lib movement got up to in terms of trying to hijack the Miss World competition – watch the videos, this really did happen, though slightly modified – where young women were literally treated like eye candy or meat. What I particularly enjoyed was that the movie didn’t just focus on Alexander or Robinson, but actually oscillated from the various characters in the story as they would come together on the fateful night.

I was already a fan of the three female leads, so seeing them in a movie together was quite grand, and while Kinnear may have been oddly-cast as Hope, the movie isn’t really about him. I actually liked seeing Ifans playing a very different character, more boisterous and with a different accent, as he adds to what ended up being a fairly entertaining movie that deals with a lot of different things, including the controversy over having a white and black contestant from South Africa decades before Apartheid was abolished.

Philippa Lowthorpe, best known for The Other Boleyn Girl, does an amazing job pulling all of these pictures together but never losing sight of the real women who are being portrayed and the amazing story they had to tell. Misbehaviour is a great example of how a message movie can be done in a thoroughly entertaining way without putting off potential male viewers.

On Wednesday, Netflix begins streaming ENOLA HOLMES, an adaptation of Nancy Springer’s Y.A. book series about Sherlock Holmes’ sister, played by Millie Bobby Brown from Stranger Things. Her brothers Sherlock and Mycroft are played by Henry Cavill and Sam Claflin, their mother is played by Helena Bonham Carter, and it’s directed by Harry Bradbeer, director of Fleabag and other British series. Methinks that Netflix is hoping this will be another franchise for the streaming giant. The film takes place in 1884 England with Enola waking on the morning of her 16th birthday to find her mother having vanished. Her brothers choose to send Enola to a finishing school but instead, she goes looking for her mother in London and falls in with a young runaway named Lord Tewksbury (Louis Partridge) to unravel a great conspiracy.

I never really became a fan of Stranger Things – more due to the lack of time than interest – so I haven’t really been generate much of an opinion for Millie Bobby Brown except for her role in Godzilla: King of Monsters. That said, I DO have an opinion on Sherlock Holmes, as I’m a huge fan of Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories, and that’s partially what drove my interest in this adaptation of Nancy Springer’s Y.A. twist.

Enola Holmes begins with a rather strange whimsical tone, as Enola constantly breaks the fourth wall and talks to the viewer, but it eventually falls into a steadier rhythm that’s much more palatable. If you’re into the mystery aspects of the Holmes lore, you may be a little disappointed by some of the simple word games concocted for this Holmes’ investigation, but it more than makes up for it with some fun fight and action sequences that made me think this would have been great as a theatrical release. (Just by being on Netflix, I’m sure it won’t have a problem finding an audience.)

All in all, I generally liked Brown in this role; she reminds me a little bit of a young Saoirse Ronan, so she clearly has a lot of potential. I wasn’t as crazy about some of the other casting, including Cavill as Enola’s older brother, nor the cutesy romance stuff with Partridge, but I know I’m also not the primary target audience for the film either. Still, coming so soon after Armando Ianucci’s David Copperfield adaptation, this generally pales in comparison. Probably the biggest bummer is that Helena Bonham Carter barely appears in the movie at all, which seems like such a waste of talent, although her scenes with Brown are some of the best in the movie.

Enola Holmes will find its fanbase for sure, and while it might not be the best or strongest iteration of Holmes, as much as a fun girl-friendlier spin on it, there’s no doubt that it’s perpetually entertaining.

Lena Olin and Bruce Dern star in Tom Dolby’s THE ARTIST’S WIFE (Strand Releasing) in which Dern plays crotchety artist Richard Smythson, whose poor beleaguered wife Claire (Olin) is now living in the shadow of her celebrated artist husband, giving up her own art career, but now having to deal with his memory losses and deteriorating behavior.

Claire (Lena Olin) lives a quiet domestic life in the Hamptons as the wife of celebrated artist Richard Smythson (Bruce Dern). Once a promising painter herself, Claire now lives in the shadow of her husband’s illustrious career. While preparing work for his final show, Richard’s moods become increasingly erratic, and he is diagnosed with dementia. As his memory and behavior deteriorate, she shields his condition from the art community while trying to reconnect him with his estranged daughter and grandson from a previous marriage. Challenged by the loss of her world as she knew it, Claire must now decide whether to stand with Richard on the sidelines or step into the spotlight herself.

Watching this, it’s almost impossible to not be reminded of the excellent The Wife, starring Glenn Close and Jonathan Pryce, but this is a different film from The Wife despite having similar themes of a woman who has allowed her own life and career to come second to that of her husband.

This is first and foremost a showcase for Olin, who at 65 years old, still looks amazing but also gives a fantastic performance, one unlike any we’ve seen from her in quite some time. A lot of the film deals with her character reuniting with her husband’s estranged lesbian daughter (her stepdaughter) Angela (Juliet Rylance) and her son Diego, who is being taken care of by a hunky manny named Danny (Avan Jogia). They all get together for Christmas, and Richard’s behavior just gets worse and worse as Claire vacillates between worrying about him and being infuriated by him.

Sure, it’s a little predicable at times but still a decent little film from Dolby that includes a number of incredibly touching and even some weepy moments. I ended up liking this film way more than I thought I would from the premise and my own preconceived notions of what this movie would be.

The Artist’s Wife is a really nice movie – and honestly, another one I’m shocked isn’t being distributed by Sony Pictures Classics! It’s far better than The Leisure Seekers, for instance, not only in dealing with early-stage dementia but also in the way women often have to put aside their own aspirations to help their elderly spouses through it.

Richard Jenkins also stars in Andrew Cohn’s THE LAST SHIFT (Stage 6 Films) playing Stanley, who has worked at the fast food restaurant Oscar’s Chicken and Fish in Albion, Michigan for over 35 years, but he’s planning to leave to go take care of his mother in Florida. Hired to replace him is a younger lad named Jevon (Shane Paul McGhie), who has just been let out of jail and needs the job to fulfill his probation.

I’m not really sure who this movie is intended since Jenkins plays such a sad sack slacker that I’m not quite sure who might be drawn to his character, and other than his relationship with Jevon, which definitely falls into the Finding Forrester school of movie cliches, I’m not sure that the film offers much else. Ed O’Neill does appear in the film as Stanley’s best friend, but he seemed to be playing down his role as to not steal any of Jenkins’ spotlight.

Much of the movie deals with the odd characters and situations Stanley and Juvan experience on the job, but it feels like such a hodge-podge of ideas thrown together without a suitable and conclusive arc for either character. Also, Stan is kind of a jerk, and there were only so many jokes about his mother’s bad memory – probably due to dementia -- I was willing to put up with. It’s just hard to fathom what Jenkins saw in this role or movie other than to allow the lesser-known McGhie shine a bit.

The Last Shift is a movie that tries to be a comedy without ever being particularly funny, and it just comes across like a flat and rather mundane attempt that never really goes anywhere. (Note: Days after this review was posted, I was informed that the screener link I watched did not have the final music cues and mix that the filmmaker intended. With that in mind, I will make an effort to rewatch the film when I have the film’s final version.)

A few docs of interest this week (other than the ones mentioned above) include Laura Gabbert’s doc OTTOLENGHI AND THE CAKES OF VERSAILLES (IFC Films), which follows Yoam Ottolenghi as he puts together a huge gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the opening of an exhibit about Versailles. Ottolenghi decides to bring together a number of pastry chefs from all over the world, including Dominique Ansel (inventor of the Cronut), Dinara Kasko and more to recreate the look and feel of Versailles through a series of pastries and desserts. Honestly, I really don’t have that much to say about the movie, which is only about an hour 15 minutes and still feels long. It basically just documents the preparation for the event and the event itself, and the whole thing just seems rather pretentious and high-falutin’, and more like the movie that might play at Lincoln Center than anywhere else. It will be playing in theaters (but probably not Lincoln Center) as well as on digital and cable VOD. (I told you I didn’t have much to say about it.)

Premiering on HBO (and presumably HBO Max) on Wednesday (today!) is the first part of Alex Gibney’s AGENTS OF CHAOS, a two-part documentary by the Oscar-winning documentarian about the Russian interference in the 2016 election. Another example of a movie that just wasn’t something I cared to watch right at this minute, despite being a big fan of Gibney’s excellent investigational skills in terms of getting to the bottom of a subject. The first part airs tonight (9/23) and the second part airs tomorrow night (9/24).

There’s also Ric Burns’ doc OLIVER SACKS: HIS OWN LIFE (Zeitgeist Films), which will premiere exclusively as part of Film Forum’s Virtual Cinema on Wednesday (today!). I really tried to get to this, but there’s only so much time in the day especially with NYFF, and everything else going on in my life right now. I do hope to get to it, and maybe it will be like The Way I See It or Mr. Soul! and I can talk more about it in a future column.  Burns’ doc essentially covers the work of a neurologist and storyteller called “the poet laurate of medicine,” who talks about his struggles with drug addiction, homophobia and a medical establishment that only began to appreciate him decades after some of his work. Sacks is also known for writing the book on which the Robin Williams movie Awakenings is based, but otherwise, I never had really heard of him before or any of the people interviewed. Again, I’ll try to get to this soon, because he sounds like an interesting man for sure.

If the title of Mike Gunther’s ROGUE WARFARE: DEATH OF A NATION (Saban Films) makes it sound like it would be as a video game, then you probably aren’t aware that this is actually an action trilogy with Stephen Lang playing “The President,” who I guess is the villain of the piece. Will Yun Lee plays one of a team of elite soldiers who must put a stop to detonate a deadly bomb in 36 hours. No review screeners for this one, which will be in theaters, on demand and digital this Friday.

Oddly, advance screeners were also not available for Tate Taylor’s action-thriller AVA (Vertical Entertainment), starring Jessica Chastain, which is a movie I was curious about since I’ve generally liked most of Taylor’s previous films – The Help and Get On Up more than Ma or The Girl on the Train. This is the spy thriller he’d been talking about making for a while, and it costars John Malkovich, Common, Geena Davis, and Colin Farrell. What it doesn’t have is screeners for review. It must be fantastic!

Again, lots of movies this week, but I just don’t have the time or mind to spend nearly as much time watching some of them before writing this. There’s many more docs, including Jay Sebring…Cutting to the Truth (Shout! Studios), the Netflix doc Kiss the Ground, yet another doc called Red, White and Wasted (Dark Sky Films), We Are Many (Area 23 Films), Myth of a Colorblind France (First Run Features) and Public Trust (Patagonia Films). There’s also even more non-docs in I’ll Be Around (Indie Rights), LX2048, Foster Boy and Shortcut (both also from Gravitas Ventures), The Swerve and Dead (1091). See what I mean? A ridiculous amount of movies this week and even more next week. Who can possibly watch, let alone review them all?

If there’s one thing I truly miss in this pandemic is being able to go over to my local movie theater, the Metrograph to catch whatever they’re showing, but they’ve still been killing it with their Live Screenings digital series. Tonight, the Metrograph is screening Shona Lynch’s debut political doc, Chisholm ’72: Unbought and Unbossed, which follows Brooklyn’s Bed-Stuy rep Shirley Chisholm, who became the first person of color and first woman to seek a major American’s political party’s nomination for President, as she fought ridicule and racism. On Monday, Metrograph will present “Matador Records - Revisionist History,” which is a celebration of the artist on the indie label that kicked off in 1989 and released records by the likes of Liz Phair, Yo La Tengo, Pavement and Sonic Youth. Monday’s premiere will include introductions by Matador’s Gerard Cosloy and Chris Lombardi and Yo La Tengo and will be made up of a series of short films and videos. Friday, the Metrograph starts a Robert Kramer retrospective with his 1969 film Ice, and honestly, I don’t really know much about Kramer so not sure what else to say.

Next week has so many frickin’ movies that if I start watching them all without sleeping for the next week, I probably won’t get to all of them. Either way, there’s no Wonder Woman 1984, so you can blame Governor Cuomo and the assholes railing against movie theaters reopening for that one.

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

[the-roci]

Vaguely, somewhere behind the warmth that’s settling into his bones as gently as the inky darkness of night overtook pale pinks and purples of the sky, Alec hears the fire pop. If he turned his head, he’d likely see the last of the logs broken, splintered down the middle as ashy white overtook the charred black of the bark. And yet, even with the fire dying, taking with it the golden hues that danced along their skin as they finished the last of the wine, Alec has no desire to move, too preoccupied with the rhythmic sounds of Magnus breathing against his chest, and the puffs of air trailing across his skin before joining the cool air around them.

It’s impossible not to feel the same pull of sleep tugging at him, mixing with the dimness of the small cabin before working itself into his already heavy muscles, leaving them warm and pliant. Were this a different night, Alec would give in to the fuzzy haze that’s drifted around him like the fog that claimed their view that morning, but it’s not a regular night, and Alec refuses the temptation. Not when Magnus is a steady weight against his chest, and it’s been so hard to find time to be together, even for something as simple as this.

October has been one of those months that pulled them both in a million different directions. Where every minute felt like it was consumed by patrols or meetings with envoys from various Institutes, and his schedule kept growing, no matter how many tasks he completed. Alec has grown accustomed to the seemingly unending issues that require his attention, but some stretches of time, times when his schedule felt out of sync with his boyfriend’s especially, felt downright grating. Rubbing against his nerves with every file dropped on his desk or alarm that sprang from the control center until they were raw with the knowledge that it would be another night away from Magnus.

Maybe it would have been manageable if Magnus wasn’t neck deep with his own clients, who seemed to pile in all at once, pulling him out of the house well before the sun rose, only for him to return well after sunset, unceremoniously unbuttoning his silver vest until it looked as unkempt as he had been feeling, before sprawling on the couch with a Martini he was often too tired to finish. The few occasions Alec found himself home before Magnus returned, fingers just beginning to dig deep into his boyfriend’s back to smooth away the knots forming just under his shoulder blades, one of their phones rang, signaling the early end of another night, and the end to whatever comfort they thought they were going to find in one another.

Alec wishes escaping the city for the night marked the end of it all, but debriefings and clients are still waiting for them when they portal home in the morning, ready to pull them back into a whirlwind of meetings and a warlock council that will take Magnus away for the remainder of the month. It’s enough to make Alec rearrange his grip, wrapping his arms tighter around his sleeping boyfriend, refusing to feel his absence when he is currently a warm presence lying snugly on top of him. Fanning out his hand, Alec lets himself get lost in the press of fingertips as they explore the vastness of Magnus’ arms, following the curve of muscle until he rounds his shoulder, then moves along the sturdy planes of his back until he has no other option but moving up again. He falls into a pattern, finding his own comfort in the lack of tension he feels in Magnus as he sleeps, the gentle rise and fall of his arm a steady reassurance that they both found a moment of peace, at least for now.

With the room sinking further into darkness, and nothing but soft breathing to focus on, it’s impossible to keep his mind from drifting. First to the chill that’s claiming the room now that the fire is essentially a flicker, but as he pulls Magnus closer, absorbing his warmth even as he adjusts the blankets around them, Alec can’t quite stop himself from marveling at the strength harbored in the muscles he was just outlining. Strength that goes far beyond the physical, though that’s certainly there, too. Magnus is lightning fast reflexes and an uppercut that can send someone sprawling if they’re stupid enough to get too close, but there’s so much more layered in the depths that make up Magnus Bane. A soft smile and a kind word that manage to slip through even the most hardened exteriors, a patience and understanding that still make Alec’s chest tight when he thinks about the trials and hardships that helped craft them, and a judgement that can be both fair and severe, depending on how badly you cross him.

With so much power and knowledge flowing through his veins, it’s no surprise that Magnus is so often requested at councils and trials. And while being apart from Magnus wears Alec down more than prolonged patrols ever could, he’s usually consoled by the pride the swells in his chest at the respect Magnus has earned, not just from his peers, but the Downworld and Shadow World alike. But tonight, on the eve of their return home, Alec is hard pressed to find any sense of comfort.

“Don’t stop.” It’s puff of warm breath against his neck as Magnus whispers against him, and for a moment, it catches Alec off guard. It’s not until Magnus wriggles his shoulder that Alec realizes he stopped the push and pull of his fingers, his hand now fully resting on Magnus’ back.

Alec’s laugh comes out breathless, lost in the strands of hair that tickle his chin and nose. Gently, he begins his rotation again, fingers finding their way back to the grooves of muscle before trailing down the ridges of Magnus’ spine. Notch by notch, he moves lower, absorbing the soft sighs his touch elicits before storing them safely inside his own chest. It’s addictive really, finding ways to make Magnus melt into his touch, it has been from the moment he first began exploring Magnus’ body all those months ago.

“No?” Alec asks, smile lingering long after he asks.

“Absolutely not.” Magnus shifts, letting himself drop further into the gap between Alec and the cushions of the couch. It’s tight, and if Alec moves, he will likely join the edges of the blanket on the floor, but it creates enough room for Magnus to drape his arm across Alec’s chest, redirecting Alec’s focus until he’s tracing the outlines of triceps instead of the dip of Magnus’ back. “That’s perfect.”

Magnus hums in his throat, shivering when Alec passes a sensitive patch of skin just below the dip of his elbow. It makes Alec’s smile widen, and when he looks towards Magnus, he notices a similar look of amusement echoed in the pull of his lips. A quiet comfort settles over them then, both watching as Alec drags his fingers along the length of his boyfriend’s arm, an endless stream of circles and squiggles until Magnus looks up, catching Alec is a soft stare.

“My mother used to do this when I couldn’t sleep,” Magnus says, his voice as low as the embers now resting in the fireplace. He closes his eyes as if remembering a time still fresh after centuries. “Never failed to put me to sleep.”

“Yeah?” Alec half murmurs, turning his head until his lips brush against Magnus’ forehead. “How’s it working now?”

Magnus looks up at him, smile wistful, but easy. “If I say it’s working like a charm, does that mean you’ll stop?”

The moment tugs at Alec, filling him with multiple desires all at once, but at the heart of them all, is the steady pressure of wanting to make Magnus feel as safe and loved as possible, whether it’s through tugging him closer or continuing to lightly massage his back as he sleeps. Alec settles for the latter with a simple, “Of course not,” and watches Magnus’ eyes flutter closed. Maybe it’s the shadows that have draped over them likes throws, or the tranquil feeling still lingering around them like smoke from the fire, but there’s something serene about the way Magnus looks, something soft and relaxed, and most importantly, something reserved just for Alec. It speaks of comfort, of safety, of home. Alec’s breath hitches as he thinks about it. Knowing that he can cause the look of utter calm on his boyfriend’s face, it pulls at a knot long since loosened inside him, a knot that made him certain he could never have this intimacy with someone he loves, and yet here he is, relishing the fact that he was utterly and completely wrong.

It’s an instinct really, shifting until he’s facing Magnus, one palm reaching forward until it’s cupping the curve of a cheek. Such a small gesture, but it stills the racing thoughts he has about tomorrow, and when Magnus opens his eyes to meet his, it grounds him like nothing else can. Alec isn’t sure when the distance between them evaporates, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but the feeling of fingers wrapping themselves around his wrist, solid and warm, and the lazy drag of their lips filling the silence of the cabin. It’s a sound that drowns out every thought that doesn’t have to do with Magnus, and Alec presses into it, humming when it turns wet. He shifts at the first pulse of warmth that pools in his stomach, making him think about the press of tongue and teeth, but when he pushes his hips forward, he’s met with a yawn hidden in the crook of his neck.

“Sorry,” Magnus says, lips twitching. “Looks like it worked too well.”

Alec kisses his forehead before cupping Magnus’ cheek. “Get some sleep,” he says, feeling the same need between his own eyes, “You have a rough few days ahead of you. Come on, I’ll keep rubbing your back.”

“You’re probably right,” Magnus admits before settling back down again. Then, after a pause: “I’m going to miss this.” It’s barely a whisper, but the weight is heavy between them.

“I’m going to miss you,” Alec replies, just as quiet. “But it’s only for a week.”

“Only for a week,” Magnus echoes.

Maybe Alec should suggest they move to the bed, but the thought of untangling himself from Magnus, even for just a few seconds, is unbearable. Instead, he turns until he can pull Magnus against his chest again, all his muscles relaxing when Magnus wraps his arm around his waist. Here, nestled against his boyfriend, it’s impossible not to be thankful for the moments they carve out for themselves amidst the chaos that can be their lives.

[khrsecretvalentine]

Halloween Gift for rollingpenguin - Trick or Treat!

Happy Halloween Fran! I was so excited to write this gift for you, especially considering you mentioned liking Kids AU, Bel and twin stuff, and stuff that was a little gory! These are all right up my alley and I hope you enjoy the results of me mixing those three things!

Trick or Treat: A Halloween Bel & Rasiel Kids AU! Fic

Halloween. Even just the sound of the word gets children excited, conjures up imagines of spooks and scares, of tricks and treats alike, in the mind of almost every child. The magic of the holiday is almost viral, and children find themselves unable to think of anything else for days before it. How could they, when thoughts of the perfect costume, the treats they’d want, the tricks they’d have to pull, ate up most of their headspace?

At least, that’s the excuse Belphegor gave his parents for why he failed the first big test of his middle school career – who could think of which nucleon did what when there were so many other things to consider, like whether shaving scream or silly string would inflict more damage on their next-door neighbour’s cat? Unfortunately, his parents hadn’t thought that a good enough excuse and they’d felt they had to punish him. They had to at least pretend to be parents occasionally, after all, before they retreated back to their country club and scotch and rounds of golf.

Of course, Belphegor could see no reason his parents had had to know in the first place. He’d had absolutely no plans of telling them, after all. He’d simply hidden the test in his binder and had stolen one of his father’s heavy, Meisterstück fountain pens to forge his signature on the test. His forgery had been perfect, his parents never bothered to check his binder when they did do a cursory backpack check (they did one at least once a week, not so much out of concern as out of necessity, after the incident in second grade when Bel had forgotten about a dead something he’d stuck in his backpack to play around with and the thing had decayed inside his backpack, stinking up the house for a solid month even after they’d gotten rid of it). His parents would never have found out, not if it hadn’t been for him.

“Usheshesheusheusheshe.”

The sound of that annoying, grating laughter only darkened the scowl already on Bel’s face and he turned his head to look at the source of the sound.

It was all his fault, Bel thought, as he stared at Rasiel on the other side of the room they were forced to share again. Rasiel had snuck into Bel’s backpack, no doubt searching for something he could use against his brother, the low-handed snitch. The boys were always trying to one-up each other, always fighting and sniping at each other but that had been low, even for a snake like Siel. Rasiel had been all too happy to go running to Father and Mother, to show them the failing test and note from his teacher about his grades and behaviour that had been in the corner of the test, had pointed out the forgery, had goaded his parents into punishing Bel’s precious self. And he’d been laughing that same grating, stupid sounding laugh while doing it.

“Ushesheshe, cheer up brother,” Rasiel said, pretending sympathy and failing. No surprise – both twins had never actually felt the emotion before in their short lives, after all. Instead, his tone was purely gloating. “After all, it is Halloween. Oh wait…” Rasiel paused, his Cheshire cat grin growing even larger as he snapped up the cape that completely his ridiculous king’s costume. “That’s right – you’re grounded. There’s no Halloween for you, is there? No pathetic little prince costume. No candy for you. No torturing animals or whatever it is you and those monstrous excuses for friends you have do. Just for me…just like it should be.”

His laughter seemed to stay in the air even as Siel swept out the door. Bel heard the front door close but still the laughter seemed to be there, mocking him. But that was fine – Siel could laugh now. He could be content in knowing that he’d forced this, that he’d taken Halloween, Bel’s favourite holiday, ‘away’ from him. Or at least, he could be for a little while. Because Bel always got even in the end and Siel had been so correct in the term he used for Bel and his friends. They were monsters and what was Halloween except the playground for monsters?

*************

Bel smiled, his annoyance slipping away, anticipation taking its place. He’d always been impatient and it was an incredible burden, waiting for time to slip away, for minutes to slip away into quarter hours, quarter hours into half an hours, twilight into full dark. But sure enough, the minutes did pass and the darkness did settle. He moved then, taking his leisurely time to get ready, to get prepared. He’d just picked up his mask, preparing to slip it on when a voice from right behind him spoke, calling his name. His reflexes had always been quick and his hand had grabbed a dart from his bedside table and chucked it before he’d even consciously thought about it.

“Ouch, Bel-senpai,” the bored sounding voice said. “That could’ve seriously hurt me, you know?”

Bel grinned under his ghoulish mask as he turned, now ready, to look at the teal-haired boy who seemed to be carrying his zombified looking head. The dart was dead center where one would’ve expected his head to be.

“I know,” Bel said, chuckling. “That’s why I threw it.”

“That hurts my feelings, Bel-senpai. I think you might need to be locked up if you keep trying to kill people, Mr. Idiot upperclassman.”

Bel growled, his hand reaching for another dart. Fran watched his hand carefully, ducking out of the way at the last second. Air whistled through a slight gap in Bel’s front teeth as he inhaled sharply, a sound of frustration from missing his target. But no, no he couldn’t waste time on the stupid frog. After all, there were much bigger fish to fry tonight.

“Is everything ready?” he asked Fran.

“Of course. You’re the only one who is late. I was sent here to get you. You’re an awful bother,” Fran said, a last retort as he quickly disappeared back out the open window he’d gotten in through just as a last dart whistled out after him.

******************

Fifteen minutes later and everything was set up. All that was left was to sit and wait. As much as Bel hated doing so, he could deal, just this once, just for this. Rasiel’s route on Halloween always took him down this way – the neighbourhood gave out the best candy but the large empty lots between the houses and the mature trees lining the lots provided plenty of cover for tricks and candy robbery, both things Bel knew his brother was prone to from all their shared Halloween’s together.

He waited and watched and sure enough, he soon saw Rasiel, flanked by a few of his ‘minions’ as he called them, coming up the street. He watched and waited…just another couple steps….almost there…almost.

His quick reflexes served him well as his hands scooped up eggs, throwing them with remarkable accuracy as Lussuria on the other side joined him, the normally flamboyant eighth grader’s neon clothes hidden under a black cloak and his neon mohawk hidden under a black ski mask. Rasiel and his goons were assaulted from both sides, unable to get away as egg after egg pelted them, the shells cracking open, covering them in gooey yolk, leaving egg whites dripping off their hair and into the eyes. Siel’s goons made runs for it only to find themselves sprayed with silly string from several of the monster’s own goons, all underclassmen bullied into joining the night’s festivities, forcing them back towards Rasiel. Once all three boys were huddled together again, it was go time for Lussuria and Bel once more, the two boys grabbing boxes, their reflexes essential here as they tore the lids off and flung the contents before any could latch onto them. Scorpions rained down on Rasiel and his ‘friend’s’ from one side, tarantulas from the other side. Bel couldn’t stop grinning as screams filled the air, all three of the boys running and screaming and ripping off their costumes to attempt to get the animals off.

But the real festivities were only starting. Now it was time for the real scares. Fran was first. The boy had always had a proclivity for sneaking up on people, never making a sound unless he wanted to. It was no problem for him to appear seemingly out of nowhere in the middle of the bellowing group, laughing as he juggled his head before staring at one of Rasiel’s goons.

“Catch,” he said as he tossed his head at him. The boy caught it no issue – Rasiel always picked goons who were extremely athletic, attempting to make up for talents he didn’t have. The boy’s face was green and he started screaming right away. The head was just too warm in his hands, too life-like…and then it blinked and grinned at him. The poor boy crumbled onto the ground, a thin stream of piss running down his leg as he blacked out. One down. Two more to go.

The sound of metal scraping pavement was coming closer and Bel could hardly hold back his laughter now as he watched Squalo and Levi, both clad entirely in black, both wearing hockey masks, one wielding a sword, the other a metal bat. They looked menacing as the approached Rasiel and his last goon, who cowered together, Rasiel hiding behind the other boy as protection. Not that that was to last – as soon as Levi raised his bat, the boy took off like a shot, with Levi close behind. The screams and cries that followed from that direction was a clear indicator that the boy hadn’t gotten away. Oh well…that would teach him to better choose his friends in the future. Collateral damages meant nothing to Bel.

He delighted in watching Squalo menace his brother and at the first slice of his upperclassman’s sword along his brother’s cheek, something certain to scar but nothing deadly just as Bel had paid for, Bel couldn’t hold back his demented laughter anymore. Rasiel’s screaming abruptly stopped at that sound and his face grew angry, his own violent nature showing as he pushed past Squalo suddenly.

“Belphegor. Show yourself, you little shit,” his brother hissed, scanning the trees. “I know you’re out there. This was all your doing, wasn’t it?”

Bel was all too happy to step outside of the cover of the trees, grinning from ear to ear and still laughing, still eager to see the ending to this little trick of his.

“Ushishishi….trick or treat, Rasiel.”

Rasiel glared and lunged for Bel, who easily dodged. “I suppose this was my trick then…. very clever, you fool. I shall enjoy my treat so much better – you thought your grounding was bad before. Wait until Mother and Father find out you broke the grounding and attacked the precious me…I think they’ll both have to agree to sending you away to military school now,” Rasiel said, his fear melting away as he gloated, his hand diving to his pocket where he kept his cellphone.

Bel only continued laughing, unnerving his brother badly. Rasiel wasn’t used to this – normally his gloating upset his brother, made him angry, something Rasiel always enjoyed doing. Now he just laughed. Rasiel backed up quickly, his eyes scanning his surroundings, his feet retreating and retreating as he continued taunting his brother, speaking to mask his fear. He counted Squalo, Bel, Fran, Levi now approaching, bloodied, from the direction that fool Luke had taken off in. The goons were taking off now, certain they didn’t want to see the end of this. He saw Lussuria slink out from the trees. All the boys, he knew where they all were. Why was Bel still laughing, still grinning? Why wasn’t he reacting? Why were all those eyes watching him so intently, so hungrily?

Rasiel’s back hit something solid and warm and big and he tilted his head back to see, his eyes widened as they met the vicious red gaze of his last ‘trick’ of Halloween. A smile curved onto everyone’s face as Rasiel screamed, a rabbity sound of pain repeated again and again, mingled with Bel’s increasingly giddy laughter.

****************

It might not have been his ideal Halloween. Siel might have taken that away from him, Bel thought as he lay in his bed that night, enjoying the silence in the room he’d been quick enough to sneak back into before his parents knew he’d broken their grounding. They’d never suspected – he’d been there to greet them, after all, when his father had rushed into the house to let his son know that Rasiel had had an accident and was in the hospital. He’d sustained serious injuries and the doctor’s didn’t think he’d recover before Christmas, if even then.

Yes, Bel thought, smiling in the darkness of the blissfully empty room. Siel took his Halloween but that was fine. He’d gotten even in the end.

From @ciaossu-imagines to @rollingpenguin

[the-dj-is-asleep]

One Night: Chapter 6

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 

AO3

The wind makes it hard to talk. In fact, it makes it hard for Lena to do anything other than bury her face into Kara’s neck to avoid tearing up. So maybe Kara flies a little faster than usual on purpose. She knows that there are things that Lena wants to say and she’s not sure she wants to hear them. She's heard Lena argue for her all week. And she'd heard the way her arguments had become less and less impassioned, the way she had slowly started to concede points and let her own point of view be corrupted. Kara had hoped that Lena would stay strong, that despite all the vitriol being poured into her head by the woman she most wanted love from, she wouldn't be swayed. Clearly she had hoped in vain.

The flight to National City takes half an hour at the rate that Kara is flying. And when they arrive, Kara goes straight to Lena's apartment and deposits her on her balcony.

"I have to go to the DEO. Alex has to know I'm okay."

"Kara, wait. You know that wasn’t what I meant back there. I just meant that there are some aliens who-“

"I have to go," Kara says, not at all wanting to hear the way that sentence ends.

She takes off before Lena can say anything else. In the split second before she shuts off her super-hearing, she hears a quiet sob.

Kara walks into Lena's apartment with a will of iron and more bravery than she's ever needed as Supergirl. She'd agreed to dinner and a movie at Lena's and she knew that now was the best time to tell her. Kara had been talking herself out of it for weeks but the longer she she carried her secret, the heavier it got. And the longer she spent with Lena, the more she needed her to know. So, Kara had decided that tonight was the night.

Lena's apartment is wonderfully familiar. After spending a few nights there, as well as countless dinners and movie nights, Kara is comfortable enough to treat it as her own. So, she doesn't bother knocking, knowing that Lena left the door unlocked for her and that if Kara waits for her to open up like the did the first few times Lena will give her a look and say, "Just come in Kara. We talked about this."

The moment Kara walks in, the hair on her arms stands up. Kara feels suddenly and inexplicably on edge. The apartment is quiet except for some soft classical music playing in the background. Lena likes the peace and quiet after a long day of phone calls and board meetings. Kara can smell herbs and what is most likely chicken cooking in the kitchen. Everything seems normal in the living room, everything neatly in its place. She does her best to try and place whats wrong but nothing seems out of place at all.

It's only when Kara reaches out with her super hearing that she suddenly becomes consciously aware of what her subconscious had picked up on.  It’s Lena’s heartbeat, fast and unsteady, and now that Kara is focused on it, thunderously loud. The hair on the back of her neck stands up and something like a chill runs down her spine. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause to think as she runs into the kitchen. She sees Lena tied up to her chair, gagged, with tears streaming down her cheeks. As soon as she catches sight of Kara, her eyes widen and she shakes her head violently enough that Kara hears her neck pop a little.

Kara takes a step closer and then another and as she does she hears the hum of a machine coming to life to her left. For a second, everything slows down. Kara watches Lena’s eyes widen and Kara follows her gaze down to her foot where she can see the round little red dot of a laser. She follows it back to its source and sees a box, metal and small and making a small humming noise. Before Kara can react in any way, the humming stops and is replaced by a quiet beeping, one that Kara is a little too familiar with. She doesn’t think, doesn’t hesitate at all before throwing her body in front of Lena’s to hopefully protect her from the blast.

But instead of a fiery explosion like she’d expected, Kara is met only by the soft hissing of a gas being released. She glances towards the box and immediately pales. The gas is green and glowing and when Kara makes the mistake of inhaling it burns. The nausea hits her as she exhales and she’s powerless to do anything but fall to her knees. She tries holding her breath, but the damage is largely done as the dust particulates in her lungs already threaten to make her pass out. Her body wins the battle over her mind and without meaning to she pulls in a rasping breath and groans immediately as the effects of the kryptonite take hold.

Through the pain she can vaguely hear Lena shouting something, muffled beyond any hope of comprehension by the gag. She uses the last of her strength to look at her and as she fades out, all she can see is the forest green of Lena's eyes.

Kara wakes slowly and painfully. There isn’t a single part of her that doesn’t hurt, though she finds that the hurt is definitely concentrated in her head and lungs. She doesn’t even bother trying to open her eyes knowing that unless it is pitch dark on the other side of her eyelids, it’ll be too bright. She tries to manage her breathing, to figure out whether it’s better to take short and sharp breaths or longer softer ones and finds that neither option does the trick. She feels like she should be bleeding in her lungs, her throat and all the way up to her nose. She thinks that she would check to see if she was bleeding if she didn’t have to open her eyes to do so.

“Kara?”

Lena’s voice is soft and hoarse and Kara can’t tell if she’s actually far away or if the kryptonite is dampening her hearing.

“Kara are you awake?”

Kara knows she should answer, wants more than anything to reassure Lena that she’s awake and okay, but she can’t move, can’t open her eyes, can’t do much else but breathe even when Lena lets out a soft whimper.

“I’m sorry,” she says, softly and to herself, clearly thinking Kara can’t hear her. “This is… my fault. I should have known they would come after me again. I mean, I didn’t know that you were… well, y’know, her… but I let my guard down. After Supergirl, or well, you, saved me I thought I’d be okay. And you were there, every night making sure my nightmares didn’t get to much and I’ve never been happier. So I let my guard down. I’m sorry Kara, that you were dragged into this. I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. There’s so much I wanted to tell you that I’m sure you don’t want to hear now. I was going to tell you that I-“

Whatever Lena was going to say is cut off by a door opening and two footsteps entering (one short and sharp, the other deep and heavy).

“Oh, stop sniveling Lena. That… alien… isn’t worth your tears or your words. I’ve tried telling you time and time again, but it seems that nothing will get through to you. That’s why I gave up, you know? I’d held out hope for so long that you would come to your senses like your brother did, but after that night at Lex’s cave, I saw that there really was no hope for you.”

Lillian’s voice sounds even farther away than Lena’s had but somehow her words hit more heavily. Kara finds herself trying to rage against the last dregs of kryptonite that have her essentially captive in her own body, but to no avail. No matter what she tries to do, she finds that her body won’t respond.

“You know that she won’t wake up right? The kryptonite gas we gave her was laced with a neuromuscular blocker. That was the whole point of the dust, of course. We didn't want to kill her... not yet anyway, but we couldn't figure out how to deliver the drug to her system. But then we found this device in Lex's store house and well... it took some work to figure out how to keep the drug active while airborne but we managed quite well don't you think?”

“What do you want with her?”

Lena sounds angrier than Kara’s ever heard her. She voice low and dangerous and she thinks that, had she been speaking to anyone other than Lillian, it would have worked to unnerve them a little bit. But Lillian knows her daughter to well to be affected.

“Hmmm, that’s not for you to know. You, my dear, are only here in case she does wake up. The alien seems to have a soft spot for you, lord knows why, and I believe she will be much less inclined to try and escape when you have a knife to your throat, don’t you think?”

Lena growls at her mother but then the heavy boots that Kara had associated with Henshaw move forward and there’s the cracking sound of skin on skin followed almost immediately by a whimper of pain from Lena. That in itself is almost enough to jolt Kara out of whatever weird coma Lillian has managed to put her in, but though she is itching to put herself between Henshaw and Lena, she finds herself irritatingly still.

Lillian clicks her tongue as if she’s disappointed in Lena.

“Really now dear, you should know better. Maybe it’s best if I leave you here on your own for a bit so you can learn some manners.”

She pauses as if expecting an answer but Lena remains silent so with a displeased huff, Lillian turns on heel and and marches out of the room. After the door slams shut behind them, Kara faintly hears Lena exhale in relief and then there’s a gentle hand on her sternum, and though Kara knows that it can’t actually be the case, she feels like it’s just a little easier to breathe.

“I’m so sorry Kara. But I promise you, I promise, I will find a way out of this. I won’t let them hurt you anymore.

Kara arrives at the DEO to find an exhausted Alex, J’onn, Winn, James, and Mon-El all standing around the control center with looks of utter despair. But Mon-El hears her land and he’s running to her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in an embrace that nearly bruises her in her still somewhat weakened state. The hug doesn’t last long though because no one can stand between Alex and her little sister for long. Alex’s hug is desperate. She clutches at Kara’s shoulders, nails digging fiercely into the cloth at her shoulders. She’s crying and as Kara wraps her arms around her sister’s familiar frame, she can’t hold back the tears that prick in the corners of her eyes.

Winn, who had been shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, finally decides that he doesn’t want to be left out any longer and he all but throws himself at Kara. His arm fit awkwardly over Alex’s but his warmth is comforting and the soft words of relief he whispers against her shoulder make Kara’s heart feel like it might burst.

Of course, the warmth can only last for so long. J’onn clears his throat gently and waits until Winn and Alex step away. It’s all for nothing when James takes the opportunity to pull her in for a hug as well, the whispered words “I missed you,” all he’s able to get in before an annoyed “Mr. Olsen,” cuts him off.

“I’m done, I’m done,” he says, stepping back with his hands up in surrender and a soft smile.

“I’m glad to have you back, Kara,” J’onn says. “But we need to know what happened. So start from the beginning.”

Chapter 7

[mrhotmaster]

Samsung Galaxy M31 Detailed Review: Camera, Specs, More

Samsung Galaxy M31 Full Review In Detail

The Samsung Galaxy M31 has a Galaxy M30 update.

The Samsung Galaxy M arrangement has increased a great deal of fame because of moderate costs and state-of-the-art equipment. Samsung has figured out how to bring down costs by selling these models web based, decreasing dispersion costs. The sub-Rs. 15,000 Samsung Galaxy M30 set the tone, and a revived rendition, the Galaxy M30s, truly helped the organization fortify its situation right now. Samsung has now propelled a successor to the Galaxy M30s, called the Galaxy M31. You currently get a quad-camera arrangement, an update from the triple camera arrangement on the M30s. Be that as it may, the processor and the battery limit stay unaltered. Will this be sufficient to keep the Galaxy M arrangement serious in the market? We survey the Galaxy M31 to discover.

Samsung Galaxy M31 Structure

From the start, it is difficult to recognize the Samsung Galaxy M30s and the Galaxy M31 from the front. Both cell phones sport enormous 6.4-inch shows with waterdrop indents, which Samsung calls Infinity U shows, The bezels aren't meager, however are adequate at the cost. Much the same as with other M arrangement cell phones, Samsung has utilized plastic in the development of the Galaxy M31. The earpiece is smooth and sits directly over the showcase in the edge of the cell phone. Pick the Galaxy M31 up and it feels good to hold in the hand. The sides are marginally bended which assists with grasp. Samsung has situated the force and volume fastens on the privilege of the gadget. The force button is anything but difficult to reach however the volume catches could have been situated better. On the left is the SIM plate which didn't sit impeccably flush on our audit unit. The Galaxy M31 has a 3.5mm earphone jack, essential mouthpiece, USB Type-C port, and speaker at the base. The top just has the auxiliary amplifier. 

At the point when you take a gander at the rear of the Galaxy M31, you'll see a few changes. The camera module is like that of the Galaxy M30s yet it currently packs a fourth camera. By this is the unique mark scanner which was agreeable for us to reach while holding the cell phone. The Samsung Galaxy M31 packs in a major 6,000mAh battery and weighs 191g causes the gadget to feel somewhat substantial. Samsung has fortunately packaged a 15W charger in the container which should help continue running after occasions. The organization offers the Galaxy M31 in two hues, Ocean Blue and Space Black. We had the Space Black variation for survey, and it got fingerprints and smears no problem at all. There is no case in the container, so you might need to get one.

Samsung Galaxy M31 Details and Highlights

The spec sheet of the Galaxy M31 seems to be like that of the Galaxy M30s. It sports a 6.4-inch AMOLED show with full-HD+ goals. It additionally has Corning Gorilla Glass 3 for security which should shield it from getting scratches too no problem at all. The showcase has great survey points and is readable when outside. There are two shading profiles to browse, and you can likewise change the white equalization. 

Samsung continued to hold the Galaxy M30's Exynos 9611 SoC. It is an octa-centre, with four ARM Cortex-A73 execution centers at 2.3GHz and four Cortex-A53 efficiency centers at 1.7 GHz. For designs, it has the Mali-G72 GPU. You get 6GB of RAM and a decision between a 64GB stockpiling variation and a 128GB stockpiling variation for Rs. 15,999 or Rs. 16,999 individually. In any case, Samsung is offering a Rs. 1,000 markdown which brings the costs down to Rs. 14,999 and Rs. 15,999 individually. The length of this offer has not been determined. Two nano-SIM openings are available in the Galaxy M31 and support 4G as is the VoLTE mode. It additionally underpins Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and GPS. Capacity is expandable by up to 512GB.    On the product front, Samsung ships the new Galaxy M31 with OneUI 2.0 on Android 10. The product is like what we have seen on the as of late propelled Galaxy S10 Lite (Review) and Galaxy Note 10 Lite. We found a decent measure of bloatware on Galaxy M31. Aside from the Google applications, Netflix, Facebook, Candy Crush Saga, and Samsung Max were preloaded on the cell phone. Samsung likewise has its own applications, for example, My Galaxy and Samsung Shop. We saw My Galaxy as a bit irritating as it continued pushing notices as the day progressed. You should be cautious about what you permit while setting up the gadget, or Samsung will likewise send you showcasing data. The arrangement procedure proposes that you download a few different applications which we recommend you skip. The Galaxy M31 gets Android 10 treats, for example, Dark Mode and Focus Mode, which can be empowered effectively through the notice conceal. Dolby Atmos is accessible however it just works with headphones. Advanced Wellbeing and Parental Controls are additionally present on the gadget. Conventional motions like twofold tap to wake, motion screen capture are available on the Galaxy M31 too. You likewise get the alternative to dump the three-button route design for full-screen signals.

Samsung Galaxy M31 Execution And Battery Life

Samsung has knock up RAM on the Galaxy M31 contrasted with its forerunner which should give it some influence while performing multiple tasks. We didn't see any slack or stammer while utilizing the cell phone. The gadget rushes to stack up applications anyway enormous applications do take somewhat more. Since there is a lot of RAM, performing multiple tasks is a breeze and we didn't end up hanging tight for an application to stack once more. The unique mark scanner rushes to open the cell phone, and the selfie camera makes a nice showing with face acknowledgment. We love watching the AMOLED show video. There is Widevine L1 bolster which should let you stream full-HD content. 

  We ran our standard benchmarks on the Galaxy M31. In AnTuTu, it figured out how to score 191,981 focuses which is higher than the Galaxy M30s did. 

The Galaxy M31 likewise scored 348 and 1,247 separately in Geekbench's single-center and multi-center tests. With respect to illustrations benchmarks, the Galaxy M31 oversaw 41fps in GFXBench T-Rex, and 8.9fps in GFXBench Car Chase. We played PUBG Mobile on the Galaxy M31, and the game defaulted to high settings as a matter of course with the designs set to HD and the edge rate to High. The game was playable at these settings and we didn't see any issues. In the wake of playing for 20 minutes we saw a four percent battery drop, and the gadget got warm to the touch. The huge battery will permit you to play for very long without expecting to plug the cell phone into the charger. In our HD video circle test, it went on for 22 hours, 31 minutes. With our use, the battery kept going us for near two days with no issues. On the off chance that battery life is essential to you, the Galaxy M31 won't baffle. 

Samsung Galaxy M31 Cameras

The Galaxy M31 sports a quad-camera arrangement at the back and a solitary 32-megapixel selfie shooter. There was an 64 megapixels of essential and critical camera with focal aperture of f/1.8. Of course you can still upgrade this camera in full to 16-megapixel binned shots. There's also a 8 megapixels of additional ultra wide camera point with 124 degree of field of view and f/2.2 aperture. The other two are a 5-megapixel profundity sensor and a 5-megapixel large scale camera. Samsung's camera application is equivalent to previously and we could discover our way around it no problem at all. There's a flip to switch between the essential and the wide-point cameras. The Scene Optimiser rushes to identify scenes and set the camera up appropriately. 

We saw the Galaxy M31 as speedy to recognize what it's pointed towards and lock center in sunshine. Photographs ended up well and had not too bad subtleties. Content a ways off was readable on zooming in. The cell phone empowers HDR consequently whenever required. Changing to the wide-point camera is simple and you can get a more extensive field of view. Be that as it may, while these shots look extraordinary as seems to be, zooming in uncovers that this sensor passes up subtleties. Wide-point shots likewise have barrel bending at the edges. The Galaxy M31 is equipped for isolating subjects and foundations when shooting close-ups, giving a characteristic profundity impact. Be that as it may, we felt that splendid hues were replicated too forcefully, bringing about lost detail. The large scale camera takes nice shots outside however the quality plunges when inside. The yield is limited to 5 megapixels in goals. Representation shots were acceptable and the camera application gives you the alternative to set the degree of obscure before making a go. Edge recognition is excellent and the Galaxy M31 works superbly of isolating the subject from the foundation. 

In low-light the Samsung Galaxy M31 takes more time to bolt center, so you should be tolerant while taking shots. Photographs taken in low-light glanced great as in however you can see fine grain in the yield on zooming in. Changing to Night mode lessens grain in the yield. Selfies taken with the Galaxy M31 were fair when shot with sufficient lighting around, however in low light, the quality goes down a score and results are grainy.   

At the back, there was a 4k video recording and 1080p at the front selfie shooter. The Galaxy M31 meters light appropriately when shooting during the day, be that as it may, we found that the recording wasn't all around settled. There is a Super Steady mode that utilizes the wide-edge camera and harvests the casing to limit shakes. We got very much balanced out yield utilizing this mode, yet the video needed detail. There's no adjustment at 4K.

Decision

Samsung has seen accomplishment with the Galaxy M30s, so it would not like to fix what isn't broken. What the organization has done is overhauled the RAM, put in a fourth back camera, and preloaded Android 10. The Galaxy M31 doesn't feel like a totally new gadget, yet progressively like an update to the Galaxy M30s. The Exynos 9611 is competent however we wouldn't have grumbled if this telephone had an all the more remarkable processor to fight off the challenge. The overhauls make this telephone somewhat better and progressively adaptable, yet is anything but a noteworthy advance up.

Battery life is as yet the principle feature, and we could undoubtedly continue for two days without waiting be connected, something the challenge at this value level can't do no problem at all. The Redmi Note 8 Pro (Review) and the Realme X2 (Review) will even now offer you all the more value for your money by and large, however in the event that you couldn't care less for benchmark scores and simply need a gadget that covers the nuts and bolts and has an incredible battery, the Samsung Galaxy M31 will do fine and dandy.

REVIEWS

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DES

IGN

⓼

DIS

PLAY

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SOFT

WARE

⓽ 

SHOW

⓾ 

BATT

ERY

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CAM

ERA

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FOR MON

EY

✔GOOD

✘BAD

☞ Nice Crisp & Amoled Display

☞ Great Battery

☞ Great Camera Quality

☞ Nice Show/Performance

☞ Camera Is Not Good At Low-Light

☞ Notifications Is Irrelevant.

☞Unstable Videos (Lacks Stabilisation).

KEY SPECIFICATIONS

DISPLAY

6.40Inch

OS

AndroiD 10

RESOLUTION

1080x2340P

REAR CAMERA

64MP+8MP+5MP+5MP

FRONT CAMERA

32MP

STORAGE

64GB

RAM

6GB

BATTERY

6000mAh

PROCESSOR

Exynos 9611

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