#marshall adams i think we should kiss

[samanthamulder]

this frame belongs in the louvre tbh

[whiskygoldwings]

If you still are willing to write for the Kiss Roulette thing, would it be alright to see what kind of kiss the 🎲 gives to Cody/Fox. :3

Hiiii! Thank you for asking! The dice gave Cody/Fox 32 - A kiss while someone's watching!

I hope you enjoy!

-----

Cody strokes Fox’s hair. His lover is stretched out on the couch, head on Cody’s thigh and nose pressed into the gap between his uppers and lowers, breath tickling Cody’s skin. The ever-present line between his brows has finally eased away, and Cody can’t help but feel smug that it’s his presence that’s caused it.

Fox’s exhaustion and near-frantic expression hadn’t gone unnoticed on holocalls. Bly had commed Cody, worried and fearful, after the last Marshal Commanders meeting. Cody had crumpled under Bly’s concern, and somehow Bly had wrangled the 212th a shore leave on Coruscant.

Cody probably owes Bly far more than he can ever afford. But he’ll happily take the debt.

He hadn’t been able to get into the Guard barracks at first; the trooper on the front desk had been adamant that the barracks weren’t open to anyone but members of the Coruscant Guard, and it was only when Cody had commed Thorn in a fit of frustration that he’d finally made some headway. Thorn had looked at Cody stood in the reception of the barracks, gasped “thank the Force!” then ordered the reluctant trooper to show Cody to Fox’s office.

Fox had been sat back in his chair behind his desk, clearly having just scrubbed a hand through his hair and dropped his datapad when the trooper knocked and gestured Cody in. He’d slumped and breathed “Kote” when he’d seen who it was, and Cody had throttled the horrified gasp before it managed to escape him.

There was grey threaded through Fox’s lank, greasy curls. His skin was sallow and stretched over too-thin cheeks. Shadows so deep they resembled bruises surrounded his eyes, and despite wearing his armour, Cody could tell he’d lost a large amount of weight from the way the panels hung awkwardly.

Cody hated himself for how long he’d left Fox behind. He should have insisted, should have found some way to make it back to Coruscant sooner. He’d been worried, and Fox’s avoidance of the conversation when they commed had not reassured him. But he’d told himself that Fox was strong and clever, and whatever was going on would be sorted soon.

Clearly, it had not been.

It’d taken all of Cody’s love and patience to coax Fox into eating a ration bar and to peel off his armour and cuddle with Cody on the couch. Fox had barely rested his head on Cody before he’d fallen asleep, and Cody had sat, looking and cataloguing every minute scar and indication of pain that had appeared on Fox’s face while they’d been separated.

None of it told a reassuring story.

There’s a quiet noise, and Cody’s head snaps up. The door eases open, and Thorn pops their head around the edge, looking around the office before they spot Cody and Fox on the couch. Thorn’s expression eases, and they carefully edge around the door and into the room. They stop just next to the couch, looking down at Fox with something complicated on their face.

“He’s finally asleep,” Thorn whispers, and Cody nods.

“What the haran is happening here, Thorn?” Cody demands quietly, and Thorn sighs.

“I’ll tell you everything Cody, as long as you promise to listen, however crazy it sounds,” Thorn murmurs, turning to look at Cody, eyes desperate and wide.

Cody looks back, sensing that the requirement is more important than he realises, and nods. “I’ll listen Thorn. I can’t…” he hesitates, looking down at Fox. “I can’t let him go on like this.”

Thorn swallows, then slowly lowers themself to kneel on the ground. “D’you think you can get him to sleep in an actual bed?” They ask, and Cody grins.

“If he won’t agree, I’ll make him,” he says, and Thorn chuckles quietly.

Cody strokes Fox’s cheek, and nudges his shoulder gently. “Meshla, wake up, we need to get you comfortable.”

Fox doesn’t rouse at first, and Cody is forced to nudge him harder. At that, he wakes all at once, eyes panicked and hands flying to his waist for a weapon, and Cody’s heart aches. He’s seen that in brothers on the battlefield; too tethered to the battle to leave it behind. He didn’t expect to see it in Fox, his love, his heart, in this safe haven of Coruscant.

He gets the feeling he’s missed a lot.

Cody gentles a hand over Fox’s hair, and waits until he shudders back into reality, hand reaching up to rub over his eyes and groaning as he stretches out as much as possible on the cramped couch. He glances up at Cody tiredly, and briefly goes to nuzzle back into Cody’s hip, before Cody pokes him in the cheek.

“Up, meshla. I need sleep too and this couch isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

Using Cody’s tiredness against Fox works. Fox grumbles, but turns over and sits up, rubbing at his forehead and grimacing in the way Cody knows means he has a headache. Cody’s heart pangs for a second, guilt at waking him when he so clearly needs the sleep bubbling in his chest, but he placates it with the promise of getting Fox to a bed for some proper sleep.

Fox turns to him, and Cody doesn’t resist when Fox leans forward to press chapped lips against his own, the bitter taste of caff and exhaustion on his breath as Fox kisses him. Cody reaches up to thread his fingers into Fox’s hair, heartache and fear clutching his heart, and he doesn’t let Fox pull away until Thorn gently clears their throat.

Thorn rolls their eyes at Fox’s murderous scowl, and Cody grins. Clearly, Thorn has learned not to tolerate Fox’s banthakark.

“You have no meetings and the dataworks been taken care of by Stone,” Thorn says, voice bland and calm as Fox gives them a suspicious look. “Bones has made it very clear that if you set foot anywhere but in the bunks or on route to the bunks, he’s going to sedate you and strap you to the massif kennels.”

Cody snorts, and it’s Fox’s turn to roll his eyes. “Traitors,” Fox mutters and Thorn nods.

“Yes,” Thorn agrees, and Cody laughs as Fox grumbles and stands, a hint of a smile curling his lips.

Cody is going to pin Fox to the bed for a few hours. At least five. And then he’s going to get his answers.

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Caught up on today’s episode...by which I mean, I watched the Arthur/Marshall scenes and the one Belle/Tom scene and a tiny bit with Leo cause it’s not his fault he’s in a dumb story and it’s nice to actually see him on screen for a change. 

Arthur and Marshall are cute. I do wish they were a little less awkward in their performances though. I mean it works okay cause they’re awkward teenagers but really all the scenes with the teens are a bit cringe sometimes. Although I think that’s the writing too. I did think the scene where Marshall told his dad to leave was probably his best bit of acting to date but I kind of wish they’d cast someone a bit stronger in the role. Can’t really help it with all the kids who have grown up on the show but I keep going back and watching old Aaron scenes and Danny and even Adam were just sooo much more natural on screen. And they’re only like a year or two older. 

I have to wonder if there was a second Belle and Tom scene because I can’t believe they would only write that one. I mean what was even the point of it if it was other than to have Belle be like “stop Tom the Plot doesn’t need us to endure the writer’s terrible small talk, we can just go have #impliedsex upstairs.” 

I really don’t know what to make of this whole Tom and Belle thing because of course I’m waiting for him to have some ulterior motive or some dark secret. But like...he already had an ulterior motive the last time he came back so I don’t know what he would be up to this time. There’s really nothing that he should be wanting revenge over. So unless he’s got some dark secret past from the last ten years coming back to haunt him, I don’t see why he can’t just be a regular decent person. 

But if he is, then I wish they weren’t throwing him and Belle at each other this fast. I mean they had some maybe intense feelings for a very short period of time as teenagers that got cut short because their families didn’t want them seeing each other but they only knew each other for like three months. Has he really been pining for her for ten years based off of that? If this is meant to be a legitimate relationship story for Belle and he doesn’t have some convoluted backstory to screw it up, then like...let them have some actual story and not just immediately sleep together and be a thing after like three scenes. I was about to say I’m a hypocrite because robron slept together pretty fast but that’s not even true. They had at least a couple of weeks of scenes and back and forth before that first kiss and since the kiss and garage sex were supposed to be a one off, there was plenty of story left to tell. I just don’t know where this Tom and Belle thing is going if they’re just throwing them back together this fast. 

I just want them to be able to tell an interesting relationship story. Why are they so incapable? 

[cafeacademic]

Marshal Commander Hardass

Pairing: Commander Cody x Reader

Rating: Explicit (minors dni)

Warnings: light degradation (use of the word cockdumb mostly), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (wrap it before u tap it)

Word Count: ~3.4k

A little (and by little I mean several thousand words) something for one of my favorite Clone Commanders. This is one of several current WIPs, so it felt good to finally finish this one up! Hope you all enjoy lovelies <3

*Read on AO3* or under the cut!

You huffed as the door to the bar swung open and half a dozen clone troopers walked in. You were used to seeing a single soldier here and there, but a large, fully armored group meant trouble. Sighing, you excused yourself from the conversation you were having with a regular patron and returned to your place at the center of the bar.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you deadpanned, not at all in the mood to have to deal with the war today. Your planet had been lucky enough to stay relatively neutral, but the arrival of the soldiers reminded you how fragile that neutrality was.

“Good evening, miss,” the presumed leader of the group said. His armor was slightly different from other clone troopers that had stumbled across your bar in the past; his helmet was framed by an orange visor, and a rank insignia was affixed to his chest plate. “We’re looking for a man named Tost. Do you have any information about his whereabouts?”

“No,” you snapped, hoping to shut down the conversation. “If that’s all, I do have patrons to get back to,”

“Are you sure? Any information would be very helpful--” you waved a hand dismissively, silencing the trooper.

“I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to get caught up in this war. All it does is bring destruction to the planets it claims, and we refuse to offer ourselves up for annihilation on a silver platter,” you said impatiently. “So either order a drink or get out of my bar,”

The regular you were chatting with earlier snorted at your little speech, and a very drunk group in the back broke out into a loud cheer. You raised a single, challenging eyebrow at the soldiers.

“Come on, the General is probably waiting for us,” another clone spoke up from the back of the group. The leader nodded, not even turning to look at the clone who had spoken, seemingly too transfixed on you.

“You’re right, Boil,” he said calmly. “If you can think of anything that would be helpful to the Republic cause, please don’t hesitate to come to one of our outposts. Ask for Marshal Commander Cody, and I’ll see to it that your information is in good hands,”

You scoffed and folded your arms over your chest defensively. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,”

As the troopers filed out, you were sure that you could hear one of them swearing at you, but you chose to ignore it.

Later that night, when darkness had fallen completely and drunk patrons would fall off their stools every so often, two of the soldiers came in and tucked themselves away at a corner table. You grumbled a swear under your breath before walking over to the table and standing there, a single hand on your hip. The clones, now without their helmets, looked up sheepishly at you.

“I know you told us to get out earlier, but we’re not here for the Commander. We just want to unwind and have a drink,” one of them stuttered, obviously reciting a speech he had planned since before they walked in. You softened slightly as you watched the two men; it wasn’t their fault they were stuck in this war. Offering them a small smile, you took their orders and brought them their drinks, a little extra poured on top as a sign of goodwill.

“What’s up with them?” one of the men sitting at the bar asked you.

“Don’t know for sure,” you replied. “The whole squad came in earlier, asking for information. I get the feeling their commander is kind of a hardass,”

“Bet they just need to blow off some steam then,” the man said, and you nodded in agreement. With a sly look, the man glanced over at the troopers. “I’m sure you could offer them a much better way to relax,”

“You’re such a creep,” you deadpanned back, and the man laughed. “Besides, I don’t think clones are really my type,”

The door swung open with a clatter, and the orange-visored Commander stood in the doorway once more. You winced at the sudden loud noise.

“Is that Commander Hardass?” the man at the bar asked, and your grimace was enough to answer his question.

“Crys, Wooley, get back to camp,” the commander ordered, not even needing to raise his voice. The tipsy clones mumbled apologies and tossed a handful of credits on the table before shuffling out of the bar.

“What the hell!” you snapped at the clone commander. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“It was their turn for watch,” the clone said, sliding onto one of the unoccupied stools at the bar. The man you were speaking with earlier looked between the two of you, amused. “I’d like a drink. Corellian whiskey,”

“It’s after last call,” you lied.

“Since you won’t give me any information, the least you can do is give me a drink,” the commander said, taking off his helmet and setting it on the bar next to him. You stood there for a moment, simply taking the clone in. He somehow looked older than the other clones; perhaps it was just exhaustion from the war. His face was partially marred by a scar, but it only served to make him look more striking. It was the challenging look in his eyes, however, that made you pour him a glass of whiskey.

“So, you must be Commander Hardass,” the man at the bar said. You braced yourself for a fight, but instead, the clone just sipped on his drink, not even glancing at the other man.

“That’s Marshal Commander Hardass,” the clone replied. “But I much prefer to just be called Cody,”

“Well, well! We’ve got a big man in charge, here!” the man said, obviously inebriated. You glanced at the clock on the wall; it was probably time to start clearing everyone’s checks.

“I think you’ve had enough, hun,” you drawled to the man, taking his now empty glass away from him. “You should be getting on home,”

“Come on! I just wanted in on the fun!” the man protested, but Cody shot him a glare, and the man dropped credits on the bar and left without further complaint.

You went about your nightly duties of wiping down tables and clearing tabs, only having to break up one drunken argument before it turned into a brawl. By the time you were finished, the Commander was the only person left in the bar.

“Time to go,” you said, voice clipped. Cody looked up at you, still nursing his glass of whiskey. You couldn’t help but find yourself staring as an errant drop of liquid ran spilled over his lip and down his chin, trailing a path down his neck. You swallowed hard.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay and chat,” he countered, as if daring you to throw him out once more.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” your reply was weakened by the slight crack in your voice as you watched Cody grip his drink tightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly in his throat as he swallowed the whiskey, and your eyes traced over the movement.

“No more little speeches?” he taunted you. “I even went so far as to buy a drink,”

“I told you, I don’t know anything about the guy you’re looking for,” you said, a hint of resignation in your voice. “And if I did, I have no reason to trust you,”

“Your lack of trust certainly isn’t stopping you from eye-fucking me from across the bar,” Cody countered, and you blushed bright red. So he had noticed.

“I think you may be misconstruing my looks, Commander,” you tried to regain your blasé attitude, but it was no use.

“No, I think I’m quite right,” he said mildly as if he wasn’t laying all your dirty secrets on the table for him to peruse. “For someone who hates the war, you sure do seem to want a big, bad soldier to put you in your place,”

You gave up on trying to act aloof: “Hating the war and recognizing a good fuck aren’t mutually exclusive,”

A gloved hand fisted into your blouse and pulled you over the bar, and Cody crashed his lips into yours with so much force you felt your teeth clatter together. As you melted into the kiss, you weren’t quite sure if you had won your little battle of wills with the Commander, but at the moment, it didn’t seem to matter.

With surprising grace, Cody climbed over the bar and pushed you backward, framing your body by placing his arms on either side of you. He kissed you once more, less violent, but no less passionate. When you let out a soft whimper, Cody seized your moment of weakness and slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Mm, cyare, look at you,” he breathed out, and you felt your face get hot at his praise. One gloved hand ran over the curve of your hip and up the side of your ribcage, before dragging up the side of your neck and gripping your chin between his fingers. “Absolutely at my mercy,”

As much as you were sure you looked the part of a good submissive, eyes glassy and mouth slightly agape, you refused to give him the satisfaction of having won so easily.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Commander,” you taunted, dropping one hand to press against his codpiece. He hissed at the contact, even though it wasn’t direct, and you smirked.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Cody said darkly in your ear. “Don’t get in over your head,”

“I won’t,” you replied confidently, mustering up all your strength to keep your voice even, despite the way one of his large hands was kneading the flesh of your waist. “I’m quite sure that you’ll be a mess for me by the end of the night,”

It was like you had flipped a switch in Cody’s head, and any sort of softness he was holding onto flew out the window. The hand that was gently touching your waist soon captured your wrist in a bruising grip, and he pulled you flush against his body.

“Is there somewhere more private that we can do this?” he asked, and you nodded frantically.

“I have an apartment above the bar,” you managed to stammer out.

“Good,” Cody said, grabbing his helmet and dragging you up the stairs by the wrist. You followed along but made sure to walk slowly, just so he’d have to put the extra bit of effort into getting you there. As you resisted, his fingers tightened slightly in warning.

When you had gotten upstairs and into the bedroom of your small apartment, Cody finally released your arm. He dropped his helmet on your dresser and pushed you back onto the bed, kissing you again. You whimpered as he slipped a hand under your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra.

“Cody--” you gasped between kisses, but Cody only smirked and pinched your nipple roughly. You cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain, trying to press into his touch.

“No, no. Address me with respect,” he said, and you whimpered as he looked down at you. One of his legs slotted between yours, and he held himself over your chest with his free arm. All you could think of was how he looked over you.

“Commander,” you said in a mockingly sweet tone. Cody growled and kissed you again, this time trailing kisses and soft bites down your neck and jaw. The hand that had been covering your breast was now toying with the edge of your shirt, and you pulled back to let him take it off. When your shirt was discarded, Cody made quick work of your bra, and you had to hold back a moan as he looked at your now exposed chest reverently.

“See something you like?” you teased, but the dark look in Cody’s eyes shut you up immediately. He looked near feral, as if he was trying to stop himself from lunging at you right then and there. Involuntarily, a grin started to creep across your face.

“Something funny, pretty girl?” Cody said, reaching out and grazing his thumb over one of your nipples.

“You just look so eager--ah!” you were cut off as Cody took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling the other between his fingers. You could feel him smirk against you as you continued to whimper, your breathy moans turning needy as he continued his work.

“You like that, sweet girl?” he teased, sitting back so he could watch your chest heave as you sucked in labored breaths.

“Cody, I swear if you don’t fuck me right now,” you said, but your threat had no force behind it. Nonetheless, Cody started to remove his armor, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re not very patient,” he said, one eyebrow raised.

“I’ve been known to be a bit demanding at times,” you said, pleased that you got what you wanted.

“The only thing you’ll be by the time I’m finished is a cockdumb little whore,” Cody challenged, and you swallowed thickly. He had finished taking off his armor and was now pulling his shirt over his head, and you tried to memorize the plains of his body as quickly as you could. The muscles in his abdomen flexed as he relaxed, and you couldn’t help but notice the thin trail of dark hair that crept down below the waistband of his blacks.

“See something you like?” he parroted back your earlier words. You nodded, and Cody smiled as he tugged you closer to him once more. His hands worked at the button on your pants, and before you knew it, he was shimmying the garment down your hips, leaving you in just your panties. With a gentle push, you fell back against the bed and Cody positioned himself between your thighs.

“You’ve soaked through your panties, pretty girl,” Cody said, tracing one finger lightly over your slit. You whined, trying to jerk your hips up for more friction, but he merely chuckled and placed an arm over your hips. “No, you’ll take what I give you,”

“Yes, Commander,” you looked down at him with glassy eyes, the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over you was almost too much. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long, because Cody pulled your panties to the side and dove in, lapping up the wetness you had already created before wrapping his lips around your clit. Your mouth dropped open with your loud moan.

“For all your bravado, you’re quite easy to control,” Cody said, voice rumbling against you in a way that sent sparks flying up your spine. He was right, as much as you hated to admit it; the way he was working your body right now, you would’ve committed murder if he’d asked. His tongue traced lazy circles over your clit, occasionally dipping down to thrust into you for a moment, making you squeal.

“Ahh! Commander!” your moans were whiny, and you could almost feel Cody’s ego inflating as you writhed underneath him. Suddenly, he slipped one thick finger into you, and you clenched around it so hard that Cody throbbed in his blacks.

“That’s it, take my fingers. Have to prepare you for my cock, pretty girl,” he growled before giving your clit another teasing lick. A second finger joined the first, and you bucked your hips up to meet them. Cody laughed. “It’s so easy to make you squirm,”

“Don’t get smug on me,” you tried to scold him, but it came out as a whine. You could rapidly feel your orgasm approaching, and you tried to warn the man underneath you, but your words all turned into moans as you tried to form them.

“Come on, pretty girl, let go for me,” Cody ordered, and you did as he asked. Clenching around his fingers, you whimpered as he worked you through it. It wasn’t until you were too over sensitive to bear it that he finally pulled away.

“Holy shit,” you said dreamily, head still a little fuzzy from your orgasm. Cody kissed you once more, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Commander, please,”

“Please what?” he said back, and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what I want,” you said, trailing your hand down until you could rub him through his blacks. He groaned as you palmed him, and you smiled innocently.

“Ask for it nicely,” Cody teased. He was nearly as impatient as you were, however, and he was already reaching for the waistband of his blacks.

“Please fuck me, Commander,” you said, rolling your hips against his in an attempt to get some friction. Your shame had flown completely out the window, your brain now singularly focused on the man above you.

Grinning eagerly, Cody pulled off his pants and discarded them, and your mouth hung open slightly at the sight of his cock. You quickly closed it when you heard Cody snort in amusement, and pouted as he lined himself up.

“You still want this?” he asked, face so close that you could feel his breath on your neck.

“Stop teasing and just do it already!” your voice pitched up as he slowly pushed himself in. You could feel him stretching you, and Cody swore under his breath as he bottomed out.

“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned, rocking his hips slightly to let you adjust to the movement. You hooked one leg around his waist, trying to pull him deeper into you.

“Please, I’m not gonna break, Commander,” you gave him your best doe eyes, and Cody growled and thrust into you hard, pushing you up the bed slightly. He kept a steady pace, making sure to press his cock as deep as it would go with every thrust. He grabbed the leg that you had wrapped around his waist and pulled it up until it was sitting on his shoulder, letting him hit a whole new angle inside you.

Your whimpering turned into loud moans as he continued pounding into you, hitting the bundle of nerves inside of you that sent spots flying through your vision. Cody gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as he fucked you. His face was dusted pink from exertion, and his pupils were blown so wide that they nearly eclipsed the soft amber of the iris.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Cody groaned, his grip on your chin tightening. “Want my pretty girl to feel good,”

“So fucking good, feel so big inside me,” you stammered, unable to think about much other than the way he was fucking you. Your back arched off the bed as Cody dropped your chin and trailed his hand down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on it.

“There’s my little cockdumb girl,” he said, a tinge of admiration in his voice. “Taking me so fucking well,”

“Yes, please, anything!” your words were jumbled, but Cody seemed to know what you meant. His thumb worked faster on your clit, and you squirmed, trying to lean into the touch and wriggle away from it at the same time. Cody held you in place, watching your chest heave as he brought you closer and closer to orgasm.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he said, and you did, a broken moan of his name on your lips. He fucked you through it, his thrusts getting erratic as you tightened around him. As you trembled with the aftershocks, you were able to see Cody pull out of you and jerk himself a few times, before spilling all over his hand and your stomach.

“Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” you said. Your voice was still a little shaky, and Cody laughed at how fucked out you sounded. He swiped a towel from your attached ‘fresher and cleaned you off, before falling into bed beside you.

“Practice,” he said smugly, and you rolled your eyes. “So was I?”

“Hmm?” you mumbled sleepily, snuggling your face into the clone’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you comfortingly.

“You said I looked like a good fuck. Was I?” he said, kissing the top of your head playfully.

“Well, I’m not completely cockdumb like you said I’d be,” you said, a mischievous smirk on your face. Cody sat up, a wicked look in his eyes. A surge of arousal pooled in your stomach.

“Guess we’re not done, then,”

[idkxwriting]

Treacherous - Chapter 14

Author: idkhaylijah

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: alright guys, some angst for ya. We’re starting to come to the end! If you’d like to be alerted anytime I post a new chapter/new work, follow @idkhaylijahwrites​ and turn on post notifications :) Thank you for reading, and giving me feedback, it means a lot! <3 

Chapter 13  -  Masterlist

It had been three days. Three days since Matt's death, since she had come home. Three days since she really talked to Elijah or Dean.

They held a memorial for Matt in the woods. Stefan and Damon had taken care of covering up what had really happened, Sam helped bury the body, and they waited for their friends to come home. In any other moment, Y/N would have been overjoyed to be reunited with her friends, but in that moment, in those circumstances, she couldn't think of anything worse. How many times had she covered up the death of someone she loved? Over the years she had begun to lose count. Would her friends have a memorial in the woods for her, too?

Y/N had watched her friends break down over the loss, and still she stood numb. The only thing left inside of her was guilt and rage. It had been three days since she had seen or heard anything from Empusa. She hadn't even felt her. The quiet was unnerving, like the calm before a storm. The skies were growing darker, the wind picking up as something ominous came towards Mystic Falls. Something they seemingly couldn't stop, and she felt her moment draw closer, her time running out.

After the funeral, she was adamant that her friends needed to leave. They had argued and shouted, and after concocting a secret plan with Freya and Castiel to get them out, Y/N was left alone in her room, nothing but the sound of the rain outside keeping her company.

"I can handle it," Freya had agreed, leaving the room.

Castiel stood, his eyes haunted, and she instinctively knew that he knew. "Y/N..."

She shook her head. "Just promise me you won't let him do anything stupid?"

"Dean isn't just going to walk away..."

"I know," she sighed. "And I know I'm asking a lot, but please, Cas."

He nodded grimly, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She sat, perched on the edge of the bed with her back to the door. She rubbed at her shoulder, the stab wound stitched but sore. It would leave a nasty scar. Not that it matters, she thought, her mind drifting once again to her impending doom when she heard him come in.

"How are you holding up?" Dean asked, his boots heavy on the wooden floor.

She took a deep breath, standing and moving toward her dresser. "Fine," she said dismissively.

He let out a sad laugh at that, and she didn't need to see him to know his eyes were crinkling in the corners, frustrated amusement at her deflection, his lips pressing into a thin line. They were so much alike, sometimes. "Right," he said, nodding. "Y/N you're not fine. You've barely said two words to any of us, you've been shut up in your room as much as possible..."

She turned to face him. "I think I convinced Stefan and Damon to take the girls and help evacuate Mystic Falls. Gas leak, I think they're going with. Freya said she'll place a barrier along the border of town. Nothing supernatural will be able to come or go. So once they're out, they won't be able to come back in until this is all over. At least I'll know they're safe..."

Dean nodded. It was a good plan, the less people they had to worry about, the better. "Yea, Sam filled me in," he said. "We're gonna help get as many people cleared out of here as possible."

"FBI?" She asked casually.

He shrugged. "U.S. Marshals, I think." They stood in awkward silence for a moment - it was the most they had spoken since Matt's death - since their fight, really. He took in her appearance, beaten down and exhausted. He wondered if she had slept at all since they found Matt. He cleared his throat, offering her a polite smile. "Right, well, I should go, let you sleep..."

As he turned to leave she stopped him. "I'm sorry," she blurted.

He turned around as if to shrug off her apology, but when he saw the look in her eyes and the weight of her regret, he paused.

"About our fight...and Elijah, I mean," she took a deep breath, willing her pride to take a back seat for a moment. "I care about you, Dean, and I never wanted to hurt you." He said nothing, but his green eyes fixed on her. They stood in silence for a long moment, and she thought maybe he wouldn't say anything at all when he finally spoke.

"Do you love him?" There it was, the question he had been holding back for weeks. The one he felt like he had no right to ask - that he was pretty sure he didn't want to know the answer to. Even as it hung in the air he wished he could take it back. It was one thing to suspect it, but the idea of hearing the answer out loud felt like it could suffocate him right there.

She bit her lip. "Yes," she whispered. "I'll always love him."

There it was. All he needed to know. All he wished he could forget. He nodded, turning towards the door once more.

"But I love you, too..." the words rushed out urgently, stopping him in his tracks. She startled at her own confession, but there was no taking it back.

His hand lingered on the doorknob, his feet frozen in place.

She hadn't intended on telling him - she knew in the grand scheme of things, it didn't even matter, but she leaned into it, an inexplicable need to tell him. "And I know how fucked up and selfish that is," she continued. "I wish it was different, and I'm sorry, but I love you, too." She wasn't sure why she was telling him any of it, other than she felt like she had to. Like if she didn't tell him the truth she may explode.

"Don't," he said softly, slamming his eyes shut.

She shook her head and took a step toward him, her heart thumping, her voice shaking. "I love you, Dean Winchester. And I'm so sorry for that."

He turned, his eyes searching hers. His chest tightened when he saw just how heartbroken she looked, and he wanted to pull her into him, tell her it would all be alright, hold her until everything else faded away.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her, too.

"Please, say something..."

What little resolve he had began to fade at the sound of her voice, pleading and timid. "Y/N, I can't...I can't keep doing this."

She bit her lip, and nodded in understanding. "I know. I just needed you to know, and to tell you I'm sorry."

He swallowed, afraid to speak. He knew he should walk away. Maybe a better man would have. But Dean wasn't a better man, as much as he had wished he was. It wasn't enough, and maybe it never would be, but it was something.

And God, he needed to feel something other than the gaping hole in his chest.

He stepped towards her, holding onto every inch of her words, clinging to the fighting chance, the smallest possibility of them.

His hand cupped her face, and he nodded, his eyes boring into hers. He moved his hand, tangling his fingers in her hair and pressed his lips to her temple hard, breathing her in. "I know, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "I know."

She stifled a sob and gripped his wrist, like maybe if she held onto him she'd stop breaking into pieces.

"You gotta stop doing that," he sighed. He brought his free hand up, tracing his thumb along the dampness of her cheek. "I hate seeing you cry," he whispered.

She smiled sadly, but the tears continued their quiet assault. She nodded, her fingers intertwining with his. She studied them for a moment, the way their hands fit together. Dean's thumb rubbed along the side of her hand, and she realized that despite it all, she felt safe with him.

And she hated so much that she'd have to let it go, that this - them - would never be enough to save her. Her gaze flicked to his, wordlessly begging him to stay, unable to ask but unable to let go, and hating herself for it.

Like he often did, Dean understood her in her silence and found himself unable to deny her once again. "Come on," he pulled her along with him, leading her to the bed. He laid down on top of the covers, pulling her down to his chest.

She held onto him tightly, afraid he'd slip away from her, grateful that he was willing to stay when she had no right to ask. She buried her face in his chest, crying silently.

Dean just held her through it, pressing his lips to her hair, his fingers dancing along her arm and the rain tapping soothingly against the glass of the windows.

When she finally drifted off, and when he was sure she wouldn't hear him he kissed her temple. "I love you, too," he whispered.

*****

Y/N woke up the next morning to an empty bed. It shouldn't have surprised her, and she couldn't blame him. Still, it left a sinking feeling. She wasn't sure when Dean had snuck out, but as hurt as she felt, she was almost relieved she didn't have to face him in the daylight.

Not that there was much daylight. A glance out her window told her the storm clouds had yet to move on, and the rain had only picked up in intensity.

She rolled over to check her phone - it was early, but she could hear voices carrying up the stairs.

Today, she thought. She wasn't sure how she knew, but Empusa was close, and she had to end it. She tried not to linger on the implications of what this ending would mean for her. As far as she was concerned, this was just another hunt. It had to be.

So she'd treat it like any other hunt.

When she was dressed she made her way downstairs to find Sam at the kitchen table, looking handsome as ever in a navy blue suit. "Nice suit," she teased.

Sam smiled uncomfortably, raising his brows. "Yea," he chuckled. "Just had it lying around."

Y/N glanced around, searching before clearing her throat. "Where's Dean?" She asked in an attempt at nonchalance.

Sam offered her a half smile, his way of brushing past her awkwardness and pretending he wasn't painfully aware of Dean spending the night in her room before sneaking out in the early morning. "Coffee run, I think. Elijah called. We all agreed it's best if we make our move today."

"Well, I'm glad we all talked that over," she laced her tone with mild irritation.

Sam had the decency to look a little guilty, but he offered no apology. "Dean wanted to let you sleep," he explained. "Besides, do you really want to put this off any longer than we have to?"

She sighed, knowing he was right, but still not ready to face what that meant for herself. "Let me go change into something a little more professional and I can help you guys evacuate the rest of the town."

"Actually," he began. "It's just us on this one."

She huffed. "Are you kidding me?"

He shrugged sheepishly.

She was about to give him a piece of her mind when the front door opened, Dean strolling in with three coffees balancing precariously on a box of donuts, a bag of bagels hanging from his mouth. He kicked the door shut behind him, strolling into the kitchen as if he didn't notice her fuming.

"Morning sunshines," he said, tossing the bag onto the counter and passing out coffee. He wiped the rain off his suit jacket and ran a hand through his damp hair.

Y/N refused her cup, instead crossing her arms over her chest. "Why can't I go with you guys to evacuate?"

Dean didn't bat an eye, turning and flipping the lid to the donuts open. He narrowed his eyes at the assortment of sugary pastries, choosing his victim. He shoved a large bite of a particularly powdery donut into his mouth, his cheeks filling as he chewed. He mumbled incoherently, talking with his mouthful. " 'hey no ew. Yer siffin' it 'ow."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Was that english?" She snapped.

Sam hopped in reluctantly. "He said they know you, so you're sitting it out. He's got a point. You grew up in this town, Y/N. You won't pass as a U.S. Marshal. Let us take care of it."

She rolled her eyes. "So what am I supposed to do?"

Dean kept his eyes trained on her, irritation flickering behind the mossy green, ready to pick a fight, even with his mouth full.

"You're with me, Buffy."

Y/N turned to find Damon walking through the front door as if he owned the place, Stefan close behind him.

"We've got Witchy Klaus and Tweety Bird holding up a barrier around Mystic Falls as we speak. If Empusa is indeed here, she won't be able to cross the town border. In fact, if you're supernatural at all, you won't be getting in or out as of now, but you knew that already."

She raised her eyebrows. "What the hell are you doing here? You guys are supposed to be gone."

"You honestly didn't think we'd fall for that, did you? Though Elena, Bonnie and Caroline didn't even question crossing the border until it was too late. Well done," Damon smirked. "That's a play right out of the Damon Salvatore handbook."

Stefan offered her an apologetic smile, greeting her with a side hug. "We're just doing what's best for you, and there was no way we were going to leave you here alone."

She leaned into her best friend for a moment before reaching out and taking the coffee Dean had slid across to her. "What's best for me is to be included in these decisions. When were you going to fill me in?"

Dean was on his second donut when he cleared his throat.

"Calm down," Damon said. He shot Dean a look of disgust as he swiped the extra powder from his jacket and turned his attention back to Y/N. "Empusa wants you specifically. We keep you safe, and let her come, stab her with your little knife, and we're all on our way."

Dean shrugged, nodding in agreement. He didn't particularly like Damon, but at least they were on the same page. "You're hanging back with Damon and Elijah," he said coldly, not making eye contact with her. "Elijah said you've got a safe house, that's where you'll go. When Sam and I are done, we'll circle back."

Stefan nodded. "Klaus and Caroline are cutting off anything that comes our way from the south, and Bonnie and Elena will take the border to the west, try to minimize the amount of monsters headed our way...make the barrier easier to hold for Freya."

She sighed. It was a solid plan, she couldn't deny, but it still felt like she was being handled with kid gloves, which was irritating. She brushed it aside, sliding the donut box from Dean and stealing a chocolate glazed donut. "Well, since you clearly don't need me..." she trailed off as she picked her coffee up and retreated to her room.

The guys exchanged looks and Dean shrugged.

"I forgot how bitchy she is before she's caffeinated," Damon commented. They shot him a disapproving look and he rolled his eyes, moving over to the bourbon.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" Sam questioned.

Damon shot him a cocky smirk and continued to pour his glass. "After a century or so, time becomes relative."

"What my brother was trying to say," Stefan interrupted tactfully, "is that Y/N seems a little off. Everything okay?"

Sam pulled his lips tight, taking a step back as he glanced at his brother.

"Trouble in paradise?" Damon quipped.

Dean shifted in his seat. "What exactly is your role in all of this?" He snapped.

Damon stepped into Dean's space, who stood at his full height, not backing down. "Keeping your little warrior princess safe, while you're out playing good cop, bad cop."

"Guys..." Sam tried to interject the standoff.

"Damon," Stefan warned.

Damon eyed Dean up and down, sizing him up before taking a step back. "Elijah, my favorite Mikaelson..." The group turned their attention to the front door to find the Original standing in a pristine suit.

"Damon," he greeted. "My least favorite Salvatore. No offense, of course."

Damon gave a tight lipped smile. "None taken."

Dean threw his head back for a moment, taking a deep breath before turning his full attention to him. "Elijah...come on in," he said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

Elijah just smiled knowingly. "Well, seeing as technically this is still my house, I'd be happy to, Dean."

Yea, well, you owning this house is exactly how Empusa got in here last time, Dean thought to himself, but said nothing. His mind raced to catch up while he attempted to keep his face straight. He knew Elijah had spent time there. But he actively tried to ignore the fact that he had lived there, let alone had bought it with Y/N. Once again the jealous pang settled into his chest.

"So we should probably get going..." Sam started.

Dean nodded in agreement. "Let me just grab my tie..." he said, excusing himself and heading upstairs.

He hadn't needed his tie. It was rolled up in his pocket, but he needed to see her.

He found her in her room, headphones in, bopping her head silently to the music blaring in her ears. She did this often at the bunker before a hunt - claiming it cleared her head so she could focus. He waited a moment, memorizing her before knocking lightly on the door frame.

Y/N sat up, taking the earbuds out and wrapping them up around her phone. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry," she chuckled. "Just trying to get some adrenaline going."

Dean smiled. "No shame in that."

She glanced at her phone and stood from the bed. "Shouldn't you be going?"

He nodded and pulled out his tie. "Yea," he nodded and turned to the full length mirror, adjusting the tie. His eyes caught hers in the reflection.

She moved behind him then, her hands coming up to rest on his gently before pushing them aside, knotting it for him. "You snuck out on me."

He looked down and cleared his throat. "Thought you could use the sleep," he said lamely.

"Dean."

His eyes flicked back up to hers in the mirror and she saw right through him. "I'm no good at this, Y/N." He turned around so they were face to face and she took a step back. "I'm out of my element here. I don't know where we stand, or if I can give you all this," he waved his hands around the room, at the home she had built with Elijah. "You've got yourself an apple pie life here, Y/N, even if it is surrounded by fangs."

She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"I'll be honest with you, I don't get it. Giving all this up..." he shook his head in disbelief. "It doesn't make sense...but I won't question it, because it brought you to me. Maybe that makes me selfish, I don't know, and I don't care, because I think after a lifetime of nothing but loss I deserve to be a little selfish here." He clenched his jaw, his hand rubbing over the tear trailing down his cheek before taking a steadying breath. "Everything up until this point, all of the crap we've gone through, it brought you to me...even if it was only for a little while."

She furrowed her brows...he was saying goodbye.

"But I can't keep doing this, Y/N."

She nodded in understanding, wishing things could be different for them.

His hand caressed her face, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheek gently, coaxing her to look up again. "I can't share you with him," he breathed. "So let's just get through this hunt today, and then Sammy and I are gonna head home."

Her heart dropped, knowing what waited for her at the end of this hunt.

"I hope you come with us, because we need you." He pulled her into him, wrapping his free arm around her waist and kissing her forehead. "I need you," he whispered before pulling away again, heading for the door.

"Dean," she called after him. He turned and she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck.

He returned the embrace, holding onto her tightly and rocking back so her feet didn't quite reach the ground. When he placed her back down she kissed him. It was simple and sweet, and they lingered for a moment, not wanting to pull away. When they parted he rested his forehead against hers.

"Let's go lovebirds!" Damon shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Dean groaned and Y/N sighed, still unmoving.

"I gotta go, baby," he whispered before dipping down and kissing her sweetly once more. His eyes lingered for a moment, his feet refusing to carry him from that spot - away from her.

She bit her lip, nodding and took a step back, away from his grasp. He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling in the corners but a hint of sadness behind them as he finally willed himself to leave her, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that told him it was goodbye.

*****

While Dean, Sam and Stefan cleared civilians out of Mystic Falls, Y/N had moved to a safe house that Elijah had insisted she had set up years ago. With Empusa ready to make her move it had been their best option, though Y/N had argued adamantly that she didn't need to hide, but fight.

It was a small property tucked away from the center of town that Y/N held the deed to - one she hadn't invited anyone into, not even Elijah. She had paid someone to stock it up with hunting supplies once, when the thought of coming back to Mystic Falls had briefly and foolishly crossed her mind. Still - you can never be too prepared, she thought, and she was grateful she had done so.

Y/N stood in the doorway of the cabin, an amused smirk on her lips.

"Oh you can't be serious," Damon rolled his eyes, side stepping Elijah and slamming straight into an invisible barrier.

"Elijah, would you like to come in?" Y/N asked, turning her attention to the Original with a soft smile.

His lips lifted up in an amused smirk as he nodded, casting a glance Damon's way before crossing the threshold. "Of course, thank you."

"Alright, very funny..." Damon remarked irritably.

Y/N had endured a painfully awkward morning with Damon and Elijah. She could only assume that they were both able to hear her conversation with Dean earlier, and the implications behind it. She was also aware that Damon thoroughly enjoyed pressing buttons at her expense in search of entertainment - especially in light of all the waiting around they seemed to be doing. He had spent the morning egging Elijah on, dropping suggestive comments about Dean to Y/N, and she was fed up.

"Damon," she sighed. "Would you like...to apologize?"

Damon glared at her. "We don't have time for games, Y/N. Invite me in."

She crossed her arms over her chest in defiance, standing her ground and waiting. Damon glanced at Elijah for help, but he simply placed his hands in his pocket, staring at Damon expectantly.

"All you have to do is say you're sorry," she said.

"For what?" Damon asked, exasperated.

She raised her brows as if it were obvious. "For being an ass..."

"I've always been an ass."

"Yea but -"

Y/N was cut off when Elijah stepped back out onto the porch. "Shhh."

"What?" She asked, unable to hear anything other than the rain, but Elijah held his hand up.

Damon turned, listening as well. "We've got company," he said, his voice low.

"Do you smell that?" Elijah asked quietly.

"Werewolf..." Damon confirmed. "But it's not a full moon?"

Y/N moved to step outside, but Elijah tucked her back behind him, backing her into the house. "Lycan."

"What's the difference?" Y/N hissed.

"Lycans, much like Niklaus, are not slaves to the moon..."

"Not to mention they're stronger, and smarter...unlike your brother." Damon added with annoyance.

Y/N rushed further into the house, pulling a floorboard in the bedroom up, revealing hunting gear. She came back, a shotgun loaded with silver bullets at the ready. "Let's go hunting," she said, cocking the gun.

Elijah pushed her back into the house once more. "Silver will hurt it, but not kill it."

"Well, we'll figure it out along the way," Y/N argued.

"Can we discuss this inside?" Damon asked, annoyed.

Y/N nodded, forgetting she hadn't invited Damon in yet. "Shit, sorry," she mumbled. "Damon, would you like..."

She was cut off by a sudden ambush of a humanoid wolf, standing to its full height on its hind legs. He was twice the size of a normal man, with unusual strength if the way he knocked Damon clear across the porch and smashing into a nearby tree was any indication.

He turned his face, his lip curling up to reveal razor sharp teeth as he snarled at Y/N and Elijah. He reached his long arm out towards her, his nails thick and sharp, like claws. Before he could reach them, Elijah had grabbed her and had rushed them both out the back door.

He placed Y/N down, turning to face the lycan who was stomping around the edges of the house after them. "Y/N, you need to run," he pleaded. He could tell by its movements that this was a hunt and one he was enjoying. Y/N glanced at Damon, who was struggling to stand. He followed her gaze, knowing her concern was for her friend. "I'll get Damon," he assured her. "Go, now!"

She nodded, trusting Elijah to take care of Damon, and darted away from them. Her boots crunched the leaves beneath her, and she turned when she heard a loud crack, as though something had been thrown with force. She sighed, considering her options, knowing Elijah had wanted her to run.

But it wasn't in her to run from a fight.

While Elijah distracted the lycan, she circled back around the front of the house. She could hear the struggling going on, so she moved lightly but quickly until she reached the shotgun she had dropped when Elijah rushed her out.

She hustled, drawing the lycan's attention toward her. She could tell Elijah was angry at her for not listening, his angry glare falling on her just long enough for the lycan to swing, knocking him off balance. She knew she'd only have one shot before he was back up, whisking her away and leaving Damon to fend for himself. She aimed and fired, the kickback of the gun slamming into her injured shoulder and causing her to wince. The pain shot through her arm into her fingers as she watched the lycan drop with a yelp. She sighed in relief, and lowered her gun, her shoulder protesting, when she heard Elijah call out.

The lycan was back on his feet, lunging towards her. He slammed into her, and she dropped to the ground, the dampness from the rain seeping through her clothes. His teeth snapped at her and his large claws caged her neck, holding her down as she pressed up, using all her strength to hold his jaws away from her.

His breath was foul, and hot against her skin. Her muscles were on fire, and she felt her strength giving way, his jaws inching closer.

Suddenly and with a sickening tear the lycan dropped. She closed her eyes, turning her head away as he collapsed on top of her.

She shoved the body aside with a great deal of effort, looking up to find Elijah standing above her, a bloody spine in his hands and his chest heaving from the force.

"Not bad, Buffy." Damon quipped, clutching his side in pain.

She sat up, catching her breath as she offered Damon a lopsided grin.

Elijah offered his hand, helping her to her feet and cupping her face in his hands. "Are you alright?" He asked, brushing her wet hair back and taking stock of any injuries.

She nodded, shaking him off. "All good," she panted.

A roll of thunder echoed through the trees. He gripped the back of her elbow lightly, leading her into the house. "You do not leave my sight again, do you understand?"

"Elijah, I'm fine, really," she reassured him. He followed closely behind as she entered the cabin, and Y/N knew he was still worried. She sighed, turning to face him as she opened her mouth to insist she was okay, but the words died on her lips as she took in his appearance.

Droplets formed at the ends of his hair, soaked from the rain, and his hand was covered with blood. The sleeve of his suit was stained crimson - almost black - from the lycan's blood up to his elbow, the rest of the suit ruined by the storm. She glanced down at her own clothes, splattered with filth and the tell tale sign of a hunt.

But despite the state they were both in, what caught her off guard was the worry flooding his eyes. Elijah, who was always so calm and confident.

She stepped toward him and stroked his cheek gently. "I promise, I'm okay."

He nodded, his clean hand coming up to the back of her neck, pulling her in as he rested his forehead against hers. He focused on her breathing, her heart pumping steadily, the warmth of her skin, despite the chill of the rain. All signs she was alive and well. He let out a breath. "I can't lose you again," he whispered.

Before she could reply, Damon's voice cut through the moment. "We get it. You love her, she loves Dean...cute little love triangle going on that would make even the CW proud. But we don't have time for this, so for the love of God, Y/N, please invite me in."

She sighed, separating herself from Elijah. "Damon," she gritted her teeth in annoyance. "Would you like to come in?"

He gave her a devilish grin. "I thought you'd never ask," he winked as he stepped over the threshold.

They settled in, mostly in silence. Elijah cleaned himself up as Damon called to check in with Elena. Y/N kept her mouth shut when they began to argue - Elena presumably furious he had lied to get her out of Mystic Falls. Y/N couldn't judge, it had been her idea, after all. Besides, she'd done worse, and would do worse still, to keep those she loved safe.

Elijah returned, cleaned up as best as he could be, and took in the sight of her from the doorway of the bedroom. He said nothing for a moment, watching as Y/N made busy work with organizing the hunting gear she had brought with her, and the few things that had been stored at the cabin.

He knew Damon had been fishing for a reaction all day, as he so often did, but bit his tongue. Still - he let Damon's words from earlier dig at him despite his better judgement.

"She loves Dean."

He shook the thought away, coming up behind Y/N and reaching around, stilling her movements when he placed his hand on top of hers. She turned, their faces dangerously close.

"Leave it," he said softly.

She knew what he was saying. She didn't need to bother with her gear, because she wouldn't be fighting today. Her eyes flicked to his lips involuntarily. "I can't just stand back," she said, her tongue darting out to lick her own lips. "I have a job to do."

"Your job is to stay alive," he reminded her.

Elijah took another deep breath as he stepped away from her, her silence deafening. He placed his hand in his pocket and watched her for a moment, committing her to memory before clearing his throat and averting his gaze. "You've made your decision."

She bit her lip. "Elijah," she moved to comfort him and he took a slight step back.

"You're choosing Dean." It wasn't a question. His eyes studied her, searching for honesty, even if it wasn't what he had wanted to hear.

"It's not that simple..." She shook her head. "Elijah, I love you. Since the day that I met you, I have felt everything for you." Her eyes bore into his, and he knew she meant every word.

He held his breath, waiting for the inevitable.

"But I love Dean, too," she let the whispered words sink in for a moment, wishing they hadn't hurt. "I can't ignore that. When I left you...my whole world fell apart. I spent so long trying to forget you. I thought maybe if I drank enough, or hunted enough...that maybe one day I'd figure out how to even think about you without it ripping my heart out..." she trailed off, searching for words to make him understand. Because she needed him to understand. "I was drowning. I kept wondering when I'd breathe again, and then Dean was there. I was so lost without you...and he found me. I wish I could tell you that things weren't complicated, that I didn't have feelings for him, or that I could just turn them off so I could stop hurting you both."

He had known it was coming, but it hadn't lessened the blow. His heart shattered and he wondered if this was what death really felt like - like gasping for air, his heart burning before giving out, the pain unbearable until it all fell away because nothing was left but darkness.

"Earlier you said you couldn't lose me again..."

He kept his eyes trained on her despite everything in his body telling him to walk away, because he needed to hear her say it.

"And I know you mean it," she continued. "With everything happening...you'd do anything to keep me safe..."

He nodded. "Nothing would ever change that. I made a promise to keep you safe, always and forever."

She moved into him, placing her free hand on his chest. His own hand came to rest on hers, his fingers gripping onto her as if he could hold her to him forever. "I know. You'd die for me."

He knitted his brows together, unsure where she was going or why it was even a question.

"I can't lose you again either, Elijah."

He shook his head and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as hope filled him, seeping into the cracks of his shattered heart. "You'll never lose me," he said, pressing his lips against her head urgently, as if he'd never get the chance to hold her again.

She let him envelop her, feeling safe in his arms. Part of her wished she could stay there, make herself a home wrapped up in him.

But another part of her belonged to Dean in a way she couldn't explain.

She breathed him in, steadying herself for what she had to do, reminding herself that she'd do anything to keep him safe, too.

She held onto that notion as she pulled back to look at him once more. She stroked his jawline tenderly. "Elijah, I love you," she whispered. "Always and forever. But I need you to promise me something."

His eyes searched hers eagerly, desperately even. "Anything."

"I need you to let me go."

Before he could protest, he felt the sharp stab of betrayal. Searing pain ripped through him before he began to go cold. He looked down to find a dagger, dipped in the ash of the white oak, pressing into his heart, her hand gripping the hilt.

His eyes sought hers slowly as he felt the life draining from his body, the realization that she had  no intention of surviving dawning on him, tearing through his heart in a way he had never felt before, leaving him completely hopeless.

Her eyes glistened with tears. "I'm so sorry," she whispered before his world went black.

Y/N struggled to lay him down gently as his body sagged in her arm. She knelt beside him, brushing his hair back. "Forgive me," she whispered before standing and wiping her eyes.

"You did what you had to do," Damon said softly from the doorway.

She knew he was right. She couldn't risk Elijah dying trying to keep her safe, and there was no way Elijah would have stepped aside so she could sacrifice herself for him or anyone else. She knew Damon of all people would understand, which is why she had asked him for the dagger in the first place - why she didn't need to beg him to compel her to be brave enough to do it when the time came.

"When this is all over, I'll wake him up," he promised.

She turned and nodded solemnly. "Tell him for me? Tell him how sorry I am, and that I love him."

Damon offered her a sad smile and nodded. "Come on," he held his arm out, and when she walked towards him he wrapped it around her. "Let's go."

She didn't turn back to look at Elijah for fear of breaking her own heart beyond repair. She couldn't afford it. Instead, she rolled her shoulders back and marched forward, focused on the task at hand.

*****

Stefan knelt over the corpse before him. "Lycan," he stated.

Sam raised his brows, stamping down his curiosity. He had of course read about them, but never encountered one himself - at least not a pureblood.

"Great," Dean mumbled. "So where the hell is she?"

They stepped up to the cabin, the Winchesters stepping through the doorway cautiously. Stefan lingered, listening, but hearing no sign of life from inside. He waited, unable to cross the threshold, to see what they'd find.

"Dammit!" Dean's voice boomed from within the cabin.

The brothers stormed back out onto the porch, and Stefan knew it could only be bad news. "Where are they?"

Dean had his phone pressed to his ear, hanging up in frustration. "She's not answering..."

Stefan pulled his phone out and dialed Damon, but it went straight to voicemail. "Neither is Damon..."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Where would they have gone?" Sam asked.

It didn't take Dean long to put the pieces together. The second he saw Elijah's body, daggered and dead, he had known. "She's on a goddamn suicide mission."

[justjessame]

Diamonds Are A Boy’s Best Friend Chapter 50

Vera was preparing for her first class as the premier dance instructor in Miami and of course being at the Miramar Playa only added to the appeal.  The Fourth had been a resounding success and Lauren had met a boy, to her brothers’ and father’s horror.  I was starting to think that I’d be the size of a parade float by the time I was ready to deliver our baby, and the time seemed to tick by ever slower - the heat of Miami bearing down on me harder and harder as the days went on.  

My fear wasn’t tempered by the appointments with the doctor, even with Ike by my side and Mimi coming along for support.  He was adamant that I be sedated and unconscious during delivery and that our child be forcibly removed with forceps.  I was horrified by the idea that I wouldn’t be awake to hear our baby’s first cry or breath, that I wouldn’t know what their sex was - or be able to hold them immediately.  Ike wasn’t taking it very well either.  He attempted to find a way to negotiate something more palpable for our family, but the hospital and doctor seemed unwilling to cooperate.  

Mimi went on the hunt for other arrangements, hopeful that she could find something better for us but I worried that we’d run out of time - even as I felt like the time grew longer and longer and I grew heavier and heavier.  

At some point, Ike had gently warned me, every pregnant woman gets to the point where intimacy becomes uncomfortable.  I’d scoffed.  A time when I didn’t WANT Isaac Evans?  Was he insane?  And yet, as the weeks and months ticked by and my body grew bigger with our child - I realized that while my internal hunger for him was alive and well, my physical hunger for him wasn’t as readily available.  Those naps he had once pressed upon me were now something I willingly took on my own, no reminder necessary.  And while I still adored having his heat and body against my own, the urge to be joined wasn’t quite as urgent.  

A tiny part of me worried, I admit, that he might seek the warmth of another bed.  Vera was a floor below us, after all.  Meg Bannock was across the way.  And I’d have to be completely blind to NOT see the other willing and beautiful women who turned their heads to watch my husband as he made his rounds as host of the hotel.  The old adage played in my head, “once a cheat -”, but I would push it down, only to have those photos that Ben had thrust into my hands early into my pregnancy showing Ike holding the towel open for Meg coming rushing back into my head.  

Late one night, so far into my pregnancy that I’d lost count, I woke in our bed and knew that I was alone.  His side was cold and I felt ice and fear creep into my veins.  Ben Diamond’s voice sneaked into our home and my head, reminding me that I was a Diamond and not good enough to be the Queen of the Miramar Playa.  I shut my eyes and pushed it down, thinking of what to do.

Rolling over, I slipped out of our bed, putting my swollen feet into my slippers and grabbing my robe from the back of my vanity chair.  Ignoring my reflection in the mirror, huge is huge after all, I left our room and saw that he wasn’t in the living room or dining room.  He wouldn’t be in Lauren’s room, so I steadied myself and stepped into the hallway and thought he might have gone to the office.  

I found him sitting on the main staircase watching them clean the entryway.  A glass of something brown beside him, he was in his pajamas and a robe and looked like he had just needed a moment of peace.  His eyes, like magnets, found me as I stepped off the elevators and he stood up, but I shook my head.  Silly man.  Waddling to him, he met me on the bottom step.

“Did I wake you?”  His hands went to my bump, his lips to my forehead, cool from whatever was in his glass.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”  

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” I murmured, feeling much calmer now that he was in front of me.  My hand went to my lower back, where a sharp pain was hitting me.  “Ow.”  

“Liz?”  Ike looked down at me with all the concern I’d expect from an expectant father.  “What is it?”  

“A knot,” I brushed off his worry even as another stabbing pain hit me.  “I must have rolled out of the bed wrong is all.”  But I ruined that argument when the next pain struck and the warm fluid ran down my leg and puddled on the clean floor under my slipper.  

“No, Liz,” Ike managed to sound calm even as he looked far less than, “you’re in labor.”  

And then everything started moving far faster than I expected.  He was calling for someone to call for a car, but I wondered if we shouldn’t be calling for an ambulance, while he was also asking one of the other workers to go wake up Mimi and also get Danny to stay with Lauren.  While he marshalled the troops, his hand had fallen to my lower back where the knot was and he was slowly massaging it, his other hand cradling my bump.  

“We should go upstairs so I can -” I was going to say change, but Ike shook his head, kissing my temple.  

“They’re just going to put you in a hospital gown when we get there, sweetheart,” he told me, but I was thinking of the squish in my slipper, the wetness in my underwear, the all over gross feeling that I was experiencing.  “Would you feel better if I had them put something down on the carseat?”  

I shrugged, not particularly, but it was better than nothing I supposed.  As Mimi, looking for all the world as if she’d been up and waiting for this moment, came to join us in the hotel lobby - taking over for Ike in the ordering of the troops, Ike returned to his natural state as my husband and partner.  Holding onto me, soothing my fears, but I knew once we got to the hospital I’d be on my own, in darkness, unconscious and without any knowledge of what comes next.  

What came next was a tense drive to the hospital with Mimi next to the driver - who looked as comfortable as any driver who was tasked with driving the owners of the premier resort of Miami while one was in labor as a very stern midwife sat next to him tersely shouting out orders - Ike’s hand was in mine and he was whispering assurances to me.

“I’ll be there, Liz, I promise.”  I was scared, he knew it, that I’d be alone and our baby would be alone.  “I’ll be right there waiting and I’ll make sure you and our baby are safe and -”

We arrived within minutes, or days - my nerves were frayed, the mess of my water - not a singular huge gush of fluid, but rather a series of warm gushes - the pains that kept coming and the unknown of what was waiting for me seems to make everything rush forward then slow down.  It was maddening, and terrifying in heavy doses.  

Ike was correct of course, I was rushed into the hospital and my night clothing was removed for a hospital gown.  And as he held my hand, as he stood next to me, while Mimi tried one last press for my preference of a natural birth, it was overturned for the new, improved sedated birthing method.  And I was given the sedative, and as Ike kissed me and promised me again that he’d be waiting for me when I woke up, when our child was safe and delivered, I closed my eyes and prayed.  

Waking up after you’ve been somewhat forcefully sedated during your labor is entirely disorienting.  I woke up and nothing felt right.  I wasn’t lying flat, for one, and I wasn’t in my bed at home for another.  Then there was the empty feeling - normally when I woke up, at least since the baby had started moving, they would remind me that they were there.  Kicking me from the inside, moving around to let me know that Ike and I had been too active or not active enough the night before.  

“Hey,” I turned my head and there he was.  Isaac Evans, my husband.  And in his arms?  A bundle in a pink blanket.  “She was waiting to meet you for hours, Liz.”  

“Hours?”  My eyes burned, thinking that our daughter had had to wait for me for that long, but he shushed me, and her as she started to fuss.  “Is she -” But then he was sitting on the bed with me, and her tiny face was all I could see.  Framed with dark curls, her tiny red face was perfect, as were her tiny fingers and toes - because I unwrapped her blanket and checked her all over.  She was tiny, as Ike reminded me she took after her mother, and she was demanding - he abstained from mentioning if she took after anyone we knew.  Feeding her by bottle, another new push that came from the advances of child bearing and medicine, formula, we were mesmerized by her.  

“She’s amazing, Elizabeth Diamond Evans.”  Ike whispered as she was drifting off after her meal, being burped, and a diaper change.  “Just like her mother.”  

“I think she takes after her father too,” his curls, I thought, and her eyes when they opened were as dark.  “She has the same little pucker you do.”  My finger traced her lips and I smiled as her mouth suckled naturally at the touch.  

“Are we still sure about her name?”  I nodded, watching her as she slept.  “I think it suits her.”  

“I do, too.”  And I did.  We chose a name that had no thread of our past.  We’d discussed memorializing my mother or even Molly, but both of us agreed that our marriage, our family was a chance to have a fresh start, even as we combined and grew.   

“She’ll have to grow into it,” he was taking her from me to put her back into the hospital’s idea of a bassinet.  “I suppose you had to grow into yours, too.”  He winked at me when he looked up from her tiny form, his hand was still cradling her small head.  

“Still growing into it actually,” I smiled at him and his grin grew.  “Miriam Sarah Evans sounds perfect for her, and I think she’ll grow into it just fine, Isaac.”  

“Why, Elizabeth, are we using our full names now?”  His smile was full enough to have his dimple peeking out and I was beaming back at him.  “I love you, Liz, and our daughter, and our family.”  He was at my side, our foreheads meeting and he was breathing deeply.  “I hated not being there with you when she came into this world screaming.”  

“Me too,” my eyes shut, I couldn’t do this again, not this way.  “She’s a miracle, Ike, but -”  His lips brushed my eyelids. 

“I know, Liz, I know.”

[cineriwen]

The prize for the most dramatic, trashy and heartbreaking Geraskier playlist goes to ... myself. And definitely you can calculate my age based on some songs that are in there.

Some lines are really screaming GERASKIER! in my face. I’m gonna list my favorite ones up for you.

“The daylight's fading slowly The time with you is standing still I'm waiting for you only The slightest touch and I feel weak I cannot lie, from you I cannot hide And I'm losing the will to try Can't hide it (can't hide it), can't fight it (can't fight it)” “Breathless” - The Corrs “Her Sweet Kiss” - Joey Batey, Sonya Belousova, Giona Ostinelli Well, speaks for itself. “There's only so much I can take And I just got to let it go And who knows I might feel better, yeah If I don't try and I don't hope“ “What Can I Do” - The Corrs “Late at night, I close my eyes And think of how things could have been And when I look back I remember some words you'd said to me It's better to have lost at love Then never to have loved at all I won't forget you, baby (I won't forget you) Even though I could I won't forget you, baby (I won't forget you) Even though I should, yeah Sometimes in my head I can still see pictures of you And I laugh to myself When I think of all those crazy things that we used to do Although miles come between us Just between you and me I won't forget you, baby (I won't forget you) Even though I could I won't forget you, baby (I won't forget you) Even though I should, well I should let you fade away But that just wouldn't be me Oh, baby“ “I Won’t Forget You” - Poison So yeah, basically the whole song. “Forgive me Is all that you can say Years gone by and still Words don't come easily Like forgive me, forgive me ... Maybe if I told you the right words At the right time, you'd be mine” “Baby Can I Hold You” - Tracy Chapman

“So if I love you a little more than I should Please forgive me, I know not what I do. Please forgive me, I can't stop loving you. ... Don't deny me, this pain I'm going through. Please forgive me, if I need you like I do.” “Please Forgive Me” - Bryan Adams Especially “So if I love you a little more than I should” and “Don’t deny me, this pain I’m going through” are killing me.

“Without a sound yeah you're calling me And I don't think it's very fair That your shoulders are frozen (Cold as the night) Oh but you're an explosion (You're dynamite)“ “I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor” - Xylaroo “And I don't know why you couldn't just stay with me. You couldn't stand to be near me. When my face don't seem to want to shine 'Cause it's a little bit dirty” “Push” - Matchbox Twenty “I have given, I have given and got none Still I'm driven by something I can't explain It's not a cross, it is a choice I cannot help but hear his voice I only wish that I could listen without shame“ “Let It Rain” - Amanda Marshall The last two lines. That gets me every time. “I can't sing a love song Like the way it's meant to be Well, I guess I'm not that good anymore But baby, that's just me” “Always”- Bon Jovi That’s Jaskier. That’s definitely Jaskier. “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met” “The Night We Met”- Lord Huron “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you” reminds me painfully of the mountain. “And now I tell you openly You have my heart so don't hurt me You're what I couldn't find A totally amazing mind So understanding and so kind You're everything to me“ “Dreams” - The Cranberries” “Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole You're so much braver than I gave you credit for That's not lip service You've already won me over in spite of me And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are I couldn't help it It's all your fault You are the bearer of unconditional things You held your breath and the door for me Thanks for your patience You're the best listener that I've ever met You're my best friend Best friend with benefits What took me so long“ “Head Over Feet” - Alanis Morissette “Put your hands in the air If you hear me out there I’ve been looking for you day and night Shine a light in the dark Let me see where you are ‘Cause I’m not gonna leave you behind If I told you that you’re not alone And I show you this is where you belong Put your hands in the air One more time I’ve seen a million miles Met a million faces Took all I knew To reach all these places And I’d do it again If it brings me back to you“ “Unity” - Shinedown That’s Geralt. That’s so Geralt. “Jolene” - Dolly Parton The classic.

[avehi-the-adamant]

Justified

((Co-written with @kidcatgemini / @miernethepersevering, and @prancingmad / @nedemus. Ravanhi belongs to cursedkat! Follow her on twitter!))

~*~

The High Vindicator felt largely out of place. His glistening armor, imbued with the Light’s radiant power, stood out all the more so in the conservative and reverent Stormwind Cemetery. He recalled visiting this place once before, laying to rest an old friend from the Northrend campaign. He felt a sense of shame wash over him, realizing he hadn’t visited since; had he really been so busy? Too busy? Even when he was in Stormwind for business… he realized now he’d never come by. His golden glance turned towards the humble grave plot of Marshal Damien Townsend, who gave his life to put an end to the Lich King’s reign. His brow furrowed, resolutely - he would visit him today, after all this.

All this, of course, being hearing out Avehi the Adamant, who had been raising the dead around Azeroth for - based on second-hand accounts - she felt was a just and noble reason. The Draenei’s skin crawled at the very notion. A good reason to raise the dead? He couldn’t fathom one! A part of him had already decided her fate, and wanted to see Avehi locked away for what she’d done. Raising people who deserved rest, like Zaalesh and others. Khanaros’ blood boiled at the thought of such defilement. But the other part knew that justice couldn’t be served without hearing the whole story. Bits and pieces heard from others weren’t sufficient in such a case as this. He wanted to hear Avehi explain herself in person, before making his mind up fully.

“I… appreciate you coming with me, Mierne.” he turned, addressing his partner. “I know you’re here mostly to see that Avehi’s heard out fully and fairly… but I like to think you’re here for me, too.”

He smirked, reaching over to give the shaman’s hand a playful squeeze.

“I am here for you both, of course!”

Mierne leaned into Khanaros’ side with a light chuckle. She’d remained oddly silent, caught up in her own thoughts. She looked up at her partner, her gaze showing the sincerity of her words. It was true, her presence here was to assure Avehi would be fairly heard. While she didn’t know the full story behind the Ebon Knight’s actions, she was most certain they’d been done for good reason. Avehi was youthful and brash, but her heart was always in the right place. 

Khanaros, on the other hand, didn’t have the opportunity to remain neutral on the subject. She understood his difficult position in the matter, and the great responsibility of doing what was best for his people weighing on his shoulders.

“No matter what happens, I appreciate you doing this for her… for me. I realize this isn’t normal procedure, and that you are going out of your way…”

Her arm moved around his torso in a comforting embrace.

“Avehi is many things. She has been through so much. But through it all, she has always been an upfront and honest Draenei.”

"Mm. I appreciate honesty, and being up-front, of course," Khanaros grunted, "but there will be more to it than simply whether or not she tells the truth. If what she hopes to achieve is not commensurate with the Light…"

He cut the thought short, golden gaze cast upward as he beheld a trio of inbound winged creatures. Two were boney, skeletal creatures brimming with necrotic energies. It wasn't hard to guess who commanded those unholy beasts… The third was far more recognizable even at a distance; Argonas and his nether drake, glistening in the night sky. The three of them descended without delay, each landing in succession a short distance from Mierne and Khanaros. The High Vindicator nodded once.

"... I suppose we will learn, one way or the other." he grunted again, before stepping forward to meet the three.

Avehi dismounted Shinigosa promptly, before sending the frostwyrm back up to the sky. The ground was no place for such a creature; already enduring a burial beneath it, Shinigosa was quite keen on flying, and enjoying the freedom she felt in doing so. And Avehi was not one to deny her draconian partner such enjoyment. Her eyes settled on Khanaros, a beacon of Light in the quiet and dimly lit cemetery. One of two, now, as Argonas set hoof on the cobbles with little regard for the clamor each step caused. He had taxed Avehi's patience throughout their journey. Quite a bit beforehand, too. So much so, she couldn't be bothered to spare him a glance.

Instead, her eyes turned to Mierne. A smile graced her lips for what felt like the first time in a long time. Nedemus wasn't lying; he really had reached out to her in this matter. She turned to offer the Worgen an appreciative nod, before she approached her dear old friend. 

"Mierne… I'm sorry you're somehow caught up in this." she dipped her head. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad to see you here."

Mierne’s reply came in the form of a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around the Death Knight, giving her that motherly comfort she no doubt needed.

“Don’t you worry about me. I’m just happy to see that you’re safe.”

She leaned in to whisper in her ear so that the two Light suffused beings wouldn’t hear.

“I know Vindicators can be exhausting to work with, but give them a bit of patience today, hm? I am here to assure you are heard.”

Placing a soft kiss on her friend’s cheek, she offered an encouraging smile, before stepping back and finally nodding a greeting to Argonas and Nedemus.

“Thank you both for assuring her safety here.”

Nedemus stepped off of Obelisk, as the skeletal gryphon dispersed, burying itself down into the ground away from the cemetery. The worgen made sure to keep ahead of Argonas, already tired of the ridiculous views that spewed from his mouth, as he took his place beside Avehi, nodding to Mierne. “Of course. Though, I think all parties involved-” He glanced towards the brash young Draenei once more. “- myself and Avehi included, should agree no weapons drawn in this place.”

He said, letting out a small snort as he crossed his arms, nostrils flaring a bit in frustration, but masking his actual intent…

“Out of the question!” Argonas interjected. “Should the need arise, I will not hesitate to draw my sword against the likes of you. I think it better that you agree not to give a reason for me to do so!”

“Calm yourself, Vindicator.” Khanaros stepped forward, eyes on the younger male. “Remember to temper your frustrations, yes? Control your emotions, do not allow them to control you.”

He offered a warm, settling smile to his former trainee, placing a hand on his plated shoulder in a welcoming manner. He nodded once, then looked to Nedemus - sparing the worgen such familiar gestures as putting hands on him, but acknowledging him positively nonetheless.

“Argonas, Nedemus, I echo Mierne’s sentiment; thank you both for seeing Avehi here safely.” he dipped his head in appreciation. “That you are able to set aside your differences for a common goal speak well of both of you, and your reverence for seeing justice done.”

Argonas exhaled a sigh, following his mentor’s counsel in calming himself. He could feel the tension manifest in knots along his neck and shoulders - a burden he’d carried far longer than just this mission. The High Vindicator always could read him well. Humbled, he nodded in response, casting a more amicable glance towards Nedemus… then to Avehi. His brow still furrowed, but the expression was much softer than usual. He was trying.

Nedemus glanced towards Avehi, upon realizing that indeed, this ragtag group of Draenei and Dog were alone in the cemetery. His gaze switched back to Argonas, watching him as they spoke.

“And you, Avehi,” Khanaros turned from Argonas and Nedemus back to Avehi and Mierne, “I appreciate you agreeing to meet here - from what I’m told, a more comfortable, neutral setting given the circumstance?”

Avehi, too, had calmed significantly in the presence of an old friend. Mierne was a comfort to her on even the worst of days. It was fortunate, too - without her trusted friend there to quell her bristly, defensive demeanor, Avehi couldn’t imagine this exchange going well at all. She dipped her head politely, amicably, to the High Vindicator as he acknowledged her.

“Mm, it was an appealing enough invitation. In that… the alternatives were unacceptable.” she put as politely as her irritation would allow. “But nonetheless, I’m here. Let’s get this over with, shall we? What do you wish to know?”

“Everything.” came Khanaros’ vague, but direct response. “What has driven you to do what you’re doing? Why would you raise so many people like Vindicator Zaalesh from death?”

Avehi sighed, tail flickering again. For a second time, she found herself justifying her actions to entities she very nearly reviled. People whose judgment was skewed, albeit in different ways. She leveled her gaze at Khanaros, as if appraising him. The Ebon Blade, at least, had some familiarity with the afterlife. But how could he possibly understand? Would he see this all the same as Argonas did; that Draenei, and other adherents of the Light, should be immune to the machinations of the afterlife? Her eyes narrowed for a brief second, in frustration and disgust. Her words would fall on deaf ears here. Just as the Light blinds, it also deafens. All of this would be a waste of time! She opened her mouth to speak… but hesitated, glancing once more to Mierne. 

Mierne was different from these Light-revering Draenei that summoned and brought her here. Different from most other Draenei. She was patient, open minded, and most importantly willing to give the benefit of the doubt in matters she didn’t understand. Above all that… she was here. She made an effort to see that Avehi would be heard out thoroughly and fairly. An effort Avehi couldn’t waste… if Mierne was trying, Avehi could try too. The Death Knight cleared her throat, and began to explain.

“There is a veil between this existence and the existence beyond death. We Death Knights walk both worlds, and therefore can pass through the veil in ways the living cannot. It is… not unlike how the Auchenai would commune with the departed.” she kept her composure calm, and spoke slowly and succinctly. “When a living soul dies, it journeys to an afterlife commensurate with their worth. Noble souls ascend to planes of righteousness and honor. For Draenei, this is joining with the Light. For elves, returning to nature. It differs for different peoples.”

Khanaros nodded slowly, taking in the information. On some level he knew all this; he thought back to his youth, all those millenia ago on Argus. Back then, the Eredar’s concept of the afterlife didn’t include joining with the Light. It was much more… ambiguous. Nonetheless, all this seemed proper and plausible. He motioned for Avehi to continue.

“Less-than noble souls… those of malicious and terrible beings, regardless of the peoples… those souls are dragged down into a place we call the Maw. Their eternal existences there is one of torment and suffering.” Avehi elaborated. “It is a realm of pain the likes of which no mortal can fathom. As a creature whose existence is wrought with pain and torment… trust me when I say the Maw is as terrible as it could ever get. The Legion, the Old Gods… none of it compare to the Maw.”

“I see… Justice permeates beyond this veil, and those deserving of it are punished for transgressions, yes?” Khanaros affirmed - so far, this all made sense to him. “But what does this have to do with your actions here on Azeroth?”

Avehi shook her head, brow furrowing.

“A few months ago, when I was traversing through this veil… I sensed something. A disturbance of some kind. I didn’t know exactly what. A surge of power… and yet an absence of it? It didn’t make sense.” she grunted in latent frustration at the memory. “I took it upon myself to investigate, worried it was some plot of the Ebon Blade’s, happening beyond the notice of the war-torn factions of the Horde and Alliance. But I came to learn even they didn’t know, and shared in my desire to discover what was happening.”

“And… what is happening?” Khanaros pressed.

“Justice… is not being served.” Avehi stated. “For reasons we still don’t know, all souls - even noble souls - are being pulled into the Maw to suffer eternally.”

“What? How is that possible?” came the High Vindicator’s skeptical questioning.

“I said we still don’t know!” Avehi snapped, reflexively. 

She cleared her throat, recollecting herself before continuing. Nedemus stepped to her side, bringing up his hand and placing it on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her as best he could in this situation. The Draenei nodded in appreciation to Nedemus, before straightening. She leveled her gaze to the High Vindicator once more, and continued. 

“That is… it’s hard to be certain. Even to the undead, the majority of processes and machinations of the afterlife are largely shrouded in mystery. We don’t know much at all… but we certainly know more than most living.” she corrected, as politely as she could muster. “This even came as something of a surprise to Exarch Ravanhi of the Auchenai. She and her ilk have sensed this disturbance as well, but lack the capacity to scry beyond the veil that they once had. The capacity the Ebon Blade yet holds, at least somewhat.”

“Ravanhi.” Khanaros repeated the name under his breath.

He was familiar with the Exarch; a fellow Argus-born Draenei, one of few still around. Khanaros recalled Ravanhi as a gentle soul and a curious mind. Her days on Argus were spent as a humble priestess contemplating the nature of existence itself. That passion and wisdom served her well as a High Priestess of the Auchenai on Draenor, and again in more recent days serving as a diplomat to the Kaldorei people. He’d always found her to be polite and thoughtful… yet tormented in a way. Lonely and reclusive, Khanaros got the sense the suffering of their people resonated much deeper with her over the nigh-countless years. But knowing her, she’d never let such despair claim her. Not while there remained others in need. 

He grunted, nodding slowly as he refocused his attention to the Death Knight before him. It was both curious and comforting that Avehi had sought out the Auchenai concerning such a severe-sounding matter. If nothing else, it spoke positively of her intentions; were she raising the dead for some nefarious purpose, interactions with the Auchenai would be the last thing she’d want. And if someone as spiritually-attuned as Ravanhi also felt the strange disturbance Avehi spoke of… that surely lent credence to her story.

“You know this Exarch, sir?” 

Argonas piped up, if only to break up the silence that permeated the cemetery during the contemplative moment. He furrowed his brow, luminous eyes glancing between his honored mentor and traitorous sister. They settled on the latter, scrutinously; this was the first he was hearing of any Auchenai contact! Was she making it up…?

“I know of her, yes.” Khanaros nodded to Argonas, before exhaling a sigh. “So… if I am assuming correctly, Avehi, you’re raising these people as a means to prevent them from being trapped in the Maw?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Avehi affirmed with a single nod. “Until such time as I can discern a better way, raising them is the only means to keep them from being lost forever.”

“And… you are certain that existence in the Maw is a worse fate than an existence of undeath?” he asked, brow furrowed. “How can you be sure of this?”

“I’ve seen it.” she scowled. “Through great concentration and effort, I was able to… project myself, for lack of a better term, to the Maw. I was looking for someone specific… and found someone else instead.”

“Looking for who?”

Avehi glanced to Argonas, and stifled a grunt.

“Sinafay. A Vindicator from alternate Draenor, and a friend of mine.” she explained. “I thought I sensed her, which would’ve meant she had died. I went to the Maw to find her, and maybe ask where she died so I could…”

Avehi shook her head, letting the thought finish itself. No one present had any illusions as to what she was doing now, anyway. She’d been honest enough about it. Argonas’ brow furrowed deeper still as he peered at Avehi. That she would even consider raising Sinafay - Orc-lover or not - was atrocious!

“And… you found someone else instead?” Khanaros asked, keeping the exchange on track.

“I did, yes.” Avehi stated, eyes still affixed, unblinking, at the younger Vindicator. “Sinafay. But from this timeline. Argonas’ wife.”

“LIES!”

Argonas had heard enough! Too much to remain passive anymore! He stepped forward towards Avehi, fists clenched!

“How dare you implicate my wife in your deceit? How dare you even speak her name with your defiler’s mouth!?”

“Argonas,” Mierne was quick to get between the Vindicator and Avehi.

Nedemus retracted, stepping back. He had begun to intercept Argonas’ movements, but stopped as he noticed Mierne step in. His foot slid back to position, his gaze glancing towards Avehi as he waited to see if the shaman could handle the zealous fool.

Her hands came up to his chest in an effort to stop his advance. Even though they were no longer intimate, she hoped their friendship was enough for her words to calm him. Her eyes held nothing but concern for the younger Vindicator. If anyone knew how difficult Sinafay’s passing had been for him, it was her. He’d spent a whole year on her island, in isolation, mourning her loss. She’d seen the devastation in his dealings with the alternate version of her. 

“I understand your anger, but you must keep a clear head, yes? There is still much that needs to be learned before any judgment can be made” she kept her voice soft and soothing. 

“Hmph! There is still much truth to be learned! None of these blatant lies serve to see justice met!” Argonas continued protesting. “This is an obvious attempt at manipulation! She seeks to  establish some personal credibility to her twisted and outlandish tale!”

He stayed by Mierne’s hand, but showed no signs of calming or backing down. His piercing gaze still affixed accusingly to Avehi. The Death Knight returned his scowl defiantly, tail flickering in agitation as he went on his rant. Her eyes narrowed.

“It’s true, Argonas. Your wife is in the Maw.” she reiterated. “And the longer you try and hold me up, the longer she’ll suffer there!”

“SHUT UP!”

With his aggressive outburst, Argonas brusquely pushed past Mierne. Amber Light arced across his plated body, brought on by his unbridled rage. He brought a hand up to reach back behind him for his sheathed blade as he stomped towards Avehi!

Nedemus growled out, placing himself between Argonas and the Draenei, though his own blade stayed holstered on his back. “Stand down, Argonas.”

“Step aside, you accursed dog corpse! Or you shall be the first--”

“--Vindicator Argonas.”

He stopped in his tracks. The Light sparking off of the Vindicator subsided, Argonas almost wincing at Khanaros’ command. The High Vindicator didn’t raise his voice much louder than usual, but his tone struck with authority. Command. Disappointment. Slowly, Argonas’ hand lowered from the hilt of his crystalline sword, as he turned his gaze; an angered and vindictive glare at Nedemus, to a remissive and chastised leer as it settled on his old mentor.

“You brought Avehi here to be heard, correct?” Khanaros continued his reprimanding. “I will be the judge of the merit and intent of her words. Not you. Is that understood?”

“... As you say, High Vindicator.” Argonas replied, tone laced with begrudgement. 

He scowled once more at Nedemus, then again at Avehi, before stepping back - an apologetic glance to Mierne as he passed her by again.

The shaman brought a comforting hand up to the Vindicator’s arm as he moved by her. There was no disappointment to be seen in her features as she looked up at him, only concern. His reaction towards Avehi’s words, while non-conductive to what they were trying to achieve, was understandable.

“I know this is difficult, but we must keep a clear head. I know Avehi well, and I do feel her words are worth investigating, at the very least. If she is right, and the unspeakable has befallen your wife, then there are other ways to verify that claim, I’m certain.”

She glanced to Khanaros.

“I do not have a connection with the afterlife… but another shaman… or perhaps a priest? I’m certain they have a connection with the dead. If you do not trust the words of Death Knights, then perhaps calling on a worthy soul that has recently passed could communicate what they see.”

Khanaros exhaled a sigh, as he looked Avehi over. Pensive, thoughtful… still not entirely convinced. He knew this would be a difficult thing to hear out and pass suitable judgment on, but more so than he had anticipated. There was a lot of new information to consider, to process, and to weigh against the greater good of not just his people, but all people in general. Slowly, he shook his head.

“A difficult claim to verify, seeing as none of us possess the capacity to venture into this place ourselves.” he lamented, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is there any way you can prove that you saw Argonas’ wife? Or… any of this, for that matter?”

Avehi huffed. There wasn’t an easy way to do that, unfortunately. Khanaros was right about that. For a moment, she considered his point of view; would she be skeptical if their positions were reversed? No… no she wouldn’t. She would trust Khanaros, and take his word as truth at face value. A courtesy he apparently wasn’t willing to extend to her. Her nose crinkled, nostrils flaring in frustration. This was a waste of time.

“Allow me to kill and raise Argonas. He can see her for himself. Then come back and tell you all about it.” she snapped, glowering. “If you won’t take my word for it, perhaps you’ll take his!”

“Mind yourself, Avehi. Take this seriously, as I have been. Your indignation is no more helpful than Argonas’ aggression!” Khanaros snapped back, with a scowl of his own. “Given what you’ve been doing, it’s not unfair to ask for some manner of verification of your claim.”

He shook his head, and cleared his throat. 

“I will ask again - if you know of a way your claim can be proven to us, I would hear it.”

Avehi scoffed, eyes trailing to Argonas. She stared at him for a moment, before speaking again.

“I spoke with her. She is lost, and scared. She thought you died as well. And she worried she somehow deserved to be there, and that you separated from her and joined with the Light.” she explained, managing her tone. “I told her you yet lived. And she gave me a message for you. She told me to tell you - in her words, mind you - to ‘stop being a dumbass’. And she said to have some alcohol ready for her when you bring her home.”

Argonas’ scowl remained, brow only knitting further with every word. His hands tensed to fists, lip curling to bare his teeth. He grunted.

“... High Vindicator, you give this thing far too much leeway.” he growled. “I will not stand here while you permit Avehi to besmirch my deceased wife in such a manner!”

“Then… you are dismissed.”

Argonas snapped his gaze to the High Vindicator, in shock!

“--What?”

“You are dismissed, Argonas.” he repeated, firmly. “Your presence is no longer required.”

“B-But… what about her? What is your judgment?”

Khanaros glanced to Argonas briefly, before sighing and looking to Avehi once more. 

“Either she’s fabricated an elaborate lie to buy herself time… or she’s expressing to us a terrible truth.” he stated. “I am choosing to believe the latter, in this case.”

Avehi, too, looked surprised. She hadn’t expected Khanaros to believe her. To trust her. With all she’d seen so far, she wasn’t sure he hadn’t already made up his mind. In affirmation, she nodded to the High Vindicator.

“I… thank you.” she uttered, hesitantly.

“This is outrageous!” Argonas shouted, in anger! “She has been raising the dead! She came here and slandered my dead wife! And you believe her blatant lies?”

“You find error in my judgment, Vindicator Argonas?” Khanaros asked, tone threatening.

He didn’t even glance at Argonas' way. Instead he approached Avehi, arms still crossed before him. His gaze was penetrating, and severe.

“She knows if she is lying, there will be no second chance. If I must send someone for her a second time, it will not be to invite her to be heard.” he replied to Argonas… and cautioned the Death Knight. “I will be following up with the Auchenai to verify these things. Perhaps even the Ebon Blade, if they’ll speak to me. But one way or another, I will find out the truth.”

He dipped his head to Avehi, stern expression softening just so.

“And I hope when I do, I will owe you both an apology and appreciation for bringing this to my attention.”

“Hm! Then I will expect both once you’ve looked into this yourself, High Vindicator.” Avehi smirked, bowing her head in return.

Behind them, Argonas was seething. His face contorted into a hideous scowl, as he clenched his fists so hard as to cause his gauntlets to begin buckling! His face flushed blue, vessels bulging beneath his skin. With an agitated grunt, he turned and stomped off - he had been dismissed, after all… 

Mierne breathed a sigh of relief as Khanaros gave his verdict. She looked over to him as Argonas stomped off, giving him a smile and a nod of approval. 

“I will allow you to finish your business, then. See you tonight,” she informed her lover, before following after the younger Vindicator.

Nedemus nodded softly towards Khanaros. “Thank you for allowing her the chance to speak, Khanaros… Argonas seemed to make it appear that she had no choice in the matter, that you were unreasonable. Doesn’t seem like he was representing you well.”

Khanaros nodded to Mierne as she departed, before looking to Nedemus. He exhaled a heavy sigh, and shook his head.

“Argonas has always been… direct. Presumptuous.” he shrugged. “Despite what you may have seen of him here tonight, he means well. Perhaps not for you specifically, but for the world as a whole.”

“Hmph. If that were true, he wouldn’t work so hard to interfere.” Avehi commented, with a light scoff. “This issue grows worse by the day, and there’s still no clear way forward.”

“Mm, there’s still no clear problem, to many of us. I would not have known any wiser if you had not told me of it.” Khanaros explained. “For Argonas… his reluctance to believe all this shouldn’t surprise you. If not because it is adverse to all he knows, because accepting it means accepting the painful truth that his wife is suffering… and that he’s helpless to stop it.”

The High Vindicator shook his head, as he stepped back from the pair of Death Knights. He regarded them both, appraisingly. 

“We will be in touch. Not only as I follow up on what you’ve revealed here tonight, but I also expect if anything more develops… you’ll let me know, correct?”

Avehi nodded once more, before dipping her head respectfully. 

“We will, Khanaros. It is… a relief… to have your support in all this.”

“Mm. It isn’t support just yet. Not until I learn more of it. But for now… I’ll do what I can to see to it that your investigations aren’t hindered.” he replied, brow furrowed. “I make no guarantees; going around raising the dead certainly doesn’t sit well with a vast majority of people. So being, I trust you’re at least keeping that to a minimum?”

“As much as I can.” Avehi nodded once more. “This existence isn’t any I would wish on anyone. But compared to the Maw…”

She trailed off, shaking her head. Khanaros nodded, understanding nonetheless. He turned from the two, and began to walk the cobbled path - deeper into the cemetery, rather than out of it. 

“Mm. Light guide you, Avehi. Nedemus.” he bid them as he departed. 

“I entrust you to do what is right.”

~*~

[randomliven]

WARNING LONG POST HEAVY SPOILERS

Episode4. Play back rewatch

*Open scene Montrose

*Drinking. Going through the memories of his mind

He drinks and still he remembers it all

*God Smites Eve

*2:12 "Give this to tic protect our family" GEORGE

*The Order of the ancient dawn

*You might be all Tic has left

*"Smells like Tulsa

*Bitcx better have my money

*Christina glides through cars

* Black arrow (nods it off)

*leti was ready

*Bitcx tried to walk in like she own the place

*the protection spell works 'akirum

She seemed impressed and snide

*your money (leti realizes where the money came from

**L: "You want something in this house. Something to. do with Atticus"

**Ct: "Dont let the men fool you into thinking its Always about them. "

**His blood may have power but thats only because itus spelled it that way. Hes Not Special. Not really

Christina is a Snitch

*"If he keeps operating like this hes going to get you killed "Again"

(she looks sincere) (im telling yall xtina did this before)

* "I dont want that. Or this house. I just want the orrery"

(To discover a world of first) (chritina dont lie withold yes)

You can get the Fuck up off my Porch

Call me

*Hippolyta calls her daddy... She has the Orrery

She smart as hell

*The new comic diana drawing..outta this universe

Moves and predicts the relative position of planets

*leti tells tic about tina paying for house

*Tic with holds information from leti

*knows tina used tic to kill father

tic was go kill her then just leave

Lil boy with Coke bottle glasses ( just like tic but not tic

*two sets of pages still exist

*the orrery is the key

(using the orrery to go into another world to find his pages)

Titus kept it hidden

*Casting spells to protect

*ask ya daddy " i dont want yall involved"

(Sound like his daddy when they saved him)

They in the back

Every time i tell you to do something yo do the opposite

*" how you kno its 34 lodges"

*"I cant help you kill yourself. You cant see this game she is setting up for you to play"

(Montrose and Christina have done this before.. I cant wait till the final. I need to kno)

*"Looking for answers you already have"

Boston

*"I know where to find that dame vault"

Christina plays hide and seek for the first time

Christina screaming "Im safe."

The police arrive for her to take her to ...

Lancaster

*She didnt mention leti being in the house specie or tic

Says convince "hyrum"

*she knows there is someone in the closet right away

*xtina says time machine

* " let "negros" move in..(vs niggers) cocky

Take my lodges

*did i miss your initiation into the order..

No cunts allowed

The silent fight

Let go. You told me to let go

Hyp suspicious

It so happens to be at a astrology museum

Tree

Ruby walks into Marshal fields

"Work like kobe just to shine like Russel"

Sees Tamara

"Yes yesterday"

"I applied on a whim"

Boston

Lights of the universe

Leti's face watching rose go with the guard

*"u kno y they call me tree"

"Shouldnt i already kno that since we fuc in highschool simore" rolls eye at that liar

True story: Harriet chariot

*MY MAMA NAMED THAT COMET

*Many artefacts Titus was giving in exchange for striping away everything they knew

(Stolen after killing, probably raping and enslaving the native people)

*tree hints at Montrose being gay to tic

Tic questions how mon knows the guard

The vault

*Christina pulls up goes around the gate

(William comes out 30seconds later, yes we kno the skin change happens in seconds seeing ruby change, BUT HOW IN THE HELL did xtina put on a whole suite down to the tie that quick)

Do they not kno william cuz then lancaster wouldnt have known it wasnt xtina when he dies.

She kick they ass

*William says i have a Date

Find a way to open it

Montrose finds the moonlight

How old is this museum

*"This is some journey to the center of the earth type shit"(name of book coke bottle kid in library was reading)

3tunnels

Ever the tide shall rise

Map of titus voyage's..

No telling Letitia fuc N lewis No

Dont help me

Yellow

*Based on adventure novels the tunnels should be based on the map.

*How you know he raided Diana

"I read a damn book

*1810 it was built

Established the sons of Adam 3yrs later

*Whats down the other tunnel?

The lantern being there

Ruby drowning her blues away to a half empty bar

Is copper considered a yellow

Voluptuousness

*I cant afford another one

Blues eyes got ya tab tonight

*A nod. A gulp

*"May i join you?" They dont sit

Keep my glass full"...

*Yall white boys dont come to the dark side for modesty (demanding woman

* i can buy my own drinks ( pride)

Take a bit more to impress me White Boy

*Never insult you to make you a kept woman

* promise me the world to lay with me

*a promise i can keep

(All she needs is the orrery & she literally can give Ruby Many worlds)

The way they look at Ruby

*20min of walking

Walking the plank

Tic brave

Tf me 1st

Learned how to lie

*juneteenth

* "FREEMEN WERE NEVER SLAVES"

She out there

Spider senses

Tic has training

Booby trap

Big fucking deal

The bored starts to disappear

Jump pop

Better catch me Boy. (I got ya kid)

Now they can run shuffle

Montrose knows the combination

Jessie owens

*The tide rising.. Less than an hr

Ruby "got there 1st, shoulda been me but i let Leti distract me"

They sat there all night

*"Whoes leti"

(i dont think Christina knew leti Nd Ruby were sisters before that moment based on willtinas expression

*"my half sister" (willtina Gulps (becoming a signature

* if i was in your skin i wouldnt even have to run"

*what to do about it?

William with them eyes.

*"Better stop looking at me like that, It Aint happening

White Boy"

I Put a Spell on You plays

Ruby want it

(Im more than sure this is Willtinas 1st time, also wonder if so as a woman. Possible leti was a virgin)

Willtina looked confused by the blood. Primal reaction

Ruby in control

William excited, whoa lip biting

The mark of Cain. Big Dic Energy

*" How you kno so much about the sons of adam?"

* george gave me the bylaws i burned it

My brother said protect the family. His dying wish

(Was to give Tic the book, but you cant tell Montrose what to do with his son)

Closing Pandoras box once Nd for good

You wont stop

*Leti finds the neighbors body who went missing

*Chicago to Boston 14hr drive

(They walk 20min to the plank maybe another 20 to yahima)

*sees elevator come down, looks familiar

*Epistien was apart of the order prob chasing the pages... He was missing an arm

This might get dangerous

*he was kidnapped. I Died.

*"not the center of the fucking universe"

Leti can swim too

*Fatherly advice

Ya mama was complicated too

*all that fussing is loving

*Epstein day look like he was missing an arm and like a drowned victim

I don't think Christina knew about the tunnels or at least she knew that she couldn't open them

Black folk dont watch bones come alive & just stare

*reaches. (Back the fuc up

* they have the same symbol on their stomach. The Regeneration spell

*yahima Woman man two spirit

*had no reason to distrust him

ALWAYS HUNGRY

*he killed them all (stole they shii) enslaved

Tic look like Will Smith as a fish in shark tail

*she dont know my spirit

Montrose Takes pages anyway (i think knowing booby trap)

. Grabs yama

*montrose drops the pages purposefully

Like damn leti. Grabbing for her

The kiss. The scream. The knockout

*how did they get back without woodie

*is that your dad's atlas

*devon county circled. Ardum reaper. Hyp makes a detour

*siren. Ill figure out how to help her talk

*"You were brave boy. Grew to be a good man spite me"

*he already had the plan

Damn montrose

[marredbyoverlength]

Year-End Awards 2019

2019 was very good for movies.  Or, rather, November and December of 2019 were very good for movies.  I could speculate about why that is (Awards season? Disney? Moloch?), but I don’t really know.  What I do know is that the Oscars are tomorrow, so I better get this post up today.

Honorable mentions in no particular order.  Strap in, chumps.

Best Lead Performance: Adam Sandler, Uncut Gems

Sometimes it feels like Adam Sandler is cheating, lowering our expectations with awful performances in even-more-awful films so that his dramatic turns look better by comparison.  But whether or not we grade him on a curve, this performance is the best of the year.  

Sandler’s character, Howard Ratner, is ridiculous.  In fact, much of the movie is ridiculous.  But Sandler makes this absurd person human, and in doing so, makes the whole movie work.  He commits hard to the role, and even though every scene is a little more unbelievable than the last, I never for a moment stopped believing in Howard.  Superb work.

Honorable Mentions: Willem Dafoe, The Lighthouse; Saoirse Ronan, Little Women; Scarlett Johansson, Marriage Story; Adam Driver, Marriage Story; Ana de Armas, Knives Out; Kang-ho Song, Parasite; Jonathan Pryce, The Two Popes.

Best Supporting Performance: The rest of the cast of Uncut Gems

The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that Uncut Gems is a movie that survives entirely on its acting.  The Safdie brothers themselves have said that the movie wouldn’t work without Kevin Garnett nailing the scene where he first holds the black opal.  I’d extend that credit to all the other supporting roles: Idina Menzel as Howard’s wife who no longer even bats an eye at the insanity he brings on himself, Marshall Greenberg (a non-actor) as the fellow jeweler who expresses genuine concern for Howard but still gives him unfavorable terms on a pawn deal, deranged Garment District legend Wayne Diamond as a character just named “High Roller”—every one of these people is essential to the success of the film.  When it comes down to it, Uncut Gems doesn’t make any sense.  It takes a suite of perfect performances to make it feel as real as it does.

Honorable Mentions: Timothée Chalamet, Little Women; Laura Dern, Little Women; Florence Pugh, Little Women; Takayuki Hamatsu, One Cut of the Dead; Daniel Craig, Knives Out; Al Pacino, The Irishman.

The Costner Award for Worst Actor: Rebel Wilson, Cats

When we meet Rebel Wilson (as her fursona “Jennyanydots,” a name I will never utter again), she is showing her butthole to the camera.  The character never gets more likable than that, because they let Rebel Wilson ad-lib numerous “comedic” lines to punch up the script. They’re awful.

Honorable Mention: James Corden, Cats.

 Nicest Surprise: Cold Pursuit

I watch the Liam Neeson stupid action flick with my brother Rob every year. Sometimes we get something legitimately great, like A Walk Among the Tombstones.  Other times we get a movie like The Commuter, which is dumb as rocks.  But this is the first time we got a comedy.  I went in expecting a second-rate Neeson-kills-people thriller, and instead got a solid black comedy.  Apparently it’s nearly a shot-for-shot remake of the Norwegian film In Order of Disappearance, so maybe I should have known better.  But I didn’t, so I was pleasantly surprised.

Hiddenest Gem: One Cut of the Dead

One Cut of the Dead is the best movie of the year that my friends haven’t seen, and it’s a tough movie to talk about because of how fun it is to watch knowing nothing about it.  So I’ll keep it short.  One Cut is a Japanese schlock horror movie with a fun twist that manages to be creepy at first, then funny, then heartwarming.  Two things elevate this above the usual fun-twist movie.  The first is that the surprise unfolds in little pieces over the entire second half of the movie, rather than hitting all at once. The second is that there’s real substance there: under the goofy exterior there’s a charming family story that’s worth coming back for.

 Most Insulting Moment: We Hate Sensory Deprivation, Angel Has Fallen

I haven’t seen the other films in the Blank Has Fallen franchise, nor did I need to do so to understand its third installment.  It’s exactly the kind of institution-worshipping great-men-of-history support-our-troops action bullshit you’d expect.  But after the credits, there’s a totally inexplicable scene where Gerard Butler and his dad Nick Nolte agree to get treatment for their (implied) PTSD.  Instead of leaving it as just a nice moment of healing, it cuts to a comedy scene where they go to a two-person sensory-deprivation tank and float around in the dark complaining about it.  The general gist of the scene is “sensory deprivation is dumb and gay.”  I’m not a sense-dep guy, but it’s used here as a stand-in for all the forms of “modernity” that reactionary filmmakers hate: you know, like mental health treatment, or trying new things, or expressing any sincere vulnerability even for a moment.  Why not just show them affectionately kissing guns and save some production cost?

Honorable Mentions:  The trailer for A Dog’s Way Home; The narration in Ad Astra.

 Winter’s Tale Memorial “What the Hell Am I Watching” Award: Cats

At long last, a film that unites the unholy trinity of ambition, incompetence, and derangement to form a true “What the Hell Am I Watching” award-winner.  The premise of Cats, in short, is that the cats of London meet every year to perform a ritual sacrifice of one of their number, believing that the chosen cat will, after their death, be reincarnated…as another London cat.  And they determine the sacrifice by holding a talent show.  And one of the cats is a warlock.  So we’re off to a good start.

I was fortunate enough to see the original version.  You see, the film is almost entirely CGI, so much so that viewing it feels like living inside a haunted kaleidoscope.  Even the actors, through “digital fur technology,” are turned into cats which are anthropomorphized to greater or lesser degrees. The warlock cat, for example, has cat abs.  But shortly after theatrical release, director Tom Hooper realized that the film contained major visual effects oversights, including failing to CGI several of the actors’ hands, meaning that Judi Dench and Ian McKellen appeared to have human arms on cat bodies.  These are only some of the crimes of the film Cats.  A full reading of the litany would take all day.

Honorable Mentions: A Dog’s Journey; Gemini Man.

Prettiest Movie: 1917

I’d be remiss not to talk about the cinematic achievement of 1917.  The all-in-one-take thing, or the appearance thereof, is kind of a used gimmick at this point.  (Birdman, after all, used it and won Best Picture.)  I went into 1917 expecting a cheap knockoff. Instead I was blown away.  Every detail was perfect, down to the mud stains on the extras’ overcoats, the stacking of sandbags in the real dug-out trenches, the bloating of the bodies clogging the waterways.  One especially memorable scene follows our hero (George MacKay) sprinting through a ruined city by night, intermittently lit by mortar fire, dodging gunfire all the way.  Maybe “pretty” isn’t the right word, but no film this year used the visual medium as well as 1917.

Honorable Mentions: Parasite, Once Upon A Time…in Hollywood.

Best Picture: Under the Silver Lake

Yes, I know it’s weird to give Best Picture to a movie that didn’t even get an honorable mention anywhere else.  But this is my blog, dammit, I stand by it.  Under the Silver Lake is a movie about capitalist-media-technology-complex-inspired brain poisoning.  It stayed on my mind for weeks after seeing it, and I eventually gave it a second watch. It held up.  

Criticisms of the film abound, like how male-gazey a lot of the portrayals of women are, but I think the parts that some reviewers identify as flaws are intentional and important features of the movie.  We see the film through the eyes of our main character (Andrew Garfield), who is a scumbag, but the film is very clearly not endorsing being a scumbag. It’s about the interplay of personal neuroses and moral failings with the broader perverse clown-reality we all occupy, and the inescapable tinge our perspectives bring to the world we see. The film is, after all, a sort of noir film, and our hero’s attitudes are reflective in some ways of the noir mindset: find the clues, unravel the plot, get the girl.  The incongruity between the stories and attitudes of our past and the demented reality of our future define the film.

I could go on about this for much longer, which is why I’m choosing Silver Lake as the best film of the year.  It’s not notable for its acting or cinematography (though both are solid), but in terms of content, nothing else this year encapsulated my internal and external world quite so well as this.

Honorable mentions: Parasite; 1917; Little Women; The Irishman; One Cut of the Dead; Marriage Story; Uncut Gems.

 That’s it, that’s the post.  I think I’m moving to Letterboxd next year.

[aleapoffaithfiction]

VIII.

“And you? You my destiny.” - Shyne

“More wine Mr. Marshall?”

Whether you’re from New York City or not, we’ve all in some way, shape, or manner ogled over the renowned skyline and created our own fantasies of everything that it is supposed to represent. Whether we’ve fed into the brutalizing gangster narrative painted in The Godfather or tried to figure out life and love along with the famous four in Sex and The City, it’s meaningful and will always represent either a new beginning or the backdrop of your wildest journeys and dreams. Tonight, as I’m in the midst of its beauty, it’s serving as a testament to either a potential new beginning or a distaste of some sort. I’ve been too focused on the soothing waves lightly rolling along the Hudson River and the patrons dinning around me to be able to figure out which predicament I’m actually in.

“Bring the bottle.” As my lips curved, my eyes panned over to the barely touched glass on my side of the table and they eventually landed on him. I’m assuming that was supposed to impress me and it might of if we were a bit more acquainted with one another. I’ve never been cozy with overindulging with any type of alcoholic beverages while on a date, because I need to be of sound, mind, and body in order to properly comprehend body language and most of all, the dialog between myself and the person I’ve chosen to go out with. Even with this so-called history that Quinton believes we have with one another, I still don’t trust him enough to expose my comfort zone with him. He’s not Taylor.

The River Café. It’s uniquely right under the Brooklyn Bridge and literally over the river. I’ve heard more than enough people rave about it for it to be in contention as one of the elite restaurants in borough and there’s no hiding the reality that it is also one of the most expensive places to have a bite to eat. Its romantic ambiance sets the mood with the dim lighting and panoramic views but in my opinion Dom Salvador, the Brazilian samba funk innovator, is the true main attraction. I’ve found myself nodding my head and occasionally snapping my fingers along to many of the tunes the celebrated pianist played since we’ve arrived. Quinton deserves credit for taking my stomping ground suggestion into consideration. Being in Brooklyn is a reminder of where we’ve come from, but sitting in this stunning restaurant in the heart of Dumbo, is a testament of how far we’ve come. Touché.

“How is your fish?” I chose the black sea bass as my main course. There was something about it being sautéed with lobster brown butter that attracted me to it over everything else. It was served with grilled artichoke ravioli and fresh artichoke. It’s pretty good, I can admit. The gnocchi I had for an appetizer may have been slightly better, but I’m not complaining. Quinton began his dining experience with an ounce of caviar that immediately cost him a hundred and eighty bucks. Caviar tastes like shit, so I wanted no parts of that.

“It’s really good. I’m enjoying it. And your steak?”

“It’s decent. I’ve had better.” I didn’t expect him to show up in a suit, but he did, in politician blue. In that field, your head can never leave the game. Who’s to say that he won’t run into some multimillionaire that he may need some campaign contributions from or maybe he’ll shake hands and kiss babies with a few supporters before we call it a night.

“Have you eaten here before?”

“Once before. It was a business dinner.”

“It’s my first time here. I’ve heard about it, but I never kept it in the back of my mind to come. I’m impressed for the most part. The location is literally perfect.” That it is. I can even say hello to our France gifted Statue of Liberty from here.

“It is right?”

“Absolutely.”

“So, let me ask you this. Why sports?”

“Why not sports? Don’t get me wrong, the sports industry within itself has a lot of bullshit within it but what industry doesn’t? You just have to learn how to move amongst the vultures. Overall, I don’t think a lot people realize how sports are one of the primary aspects of life that brings people together. When you step into those arenas, stadiums, or fields, you see people of all ethnic backgrounds sitting together, uniformly, and basking in the moment. Sports drive our emotions, serve as our conversation starters and endings, are reasons for our road trips, and bring tradition within our families. They began lifelong friendships, cure pain, and have served as a shift within this country and many others for centuries. I fell in love with them. They’re what thrilled me ever since I was a child and I had a parent who advocated for that.” I’ve gotten that question a lot; sometimes in a sexiest manner and on occasion, out of genuine interest. I’d like to think it’s what I was meant to do. I have a high regard for our nation’s doctors, lawyers, business people, artists, and everything else, but I’ve never had a passion to be anything else other than who and what I am right now.

“I don’t know. I’ve always thought you’d end up being an actress or some type of model.” Should I be insulted by that? I don’t know. “Why?”

“Of course, you’re beautiful, but you’ve also always been great at speaking and being expressive.”

“So, then we can attribute that as to why I’m so good at my job now. Why politics?”

“It wasn’t always my passion. Initially, I wanted to be a forensic scientist. Well, now that I think about it, I guess I always wanted to be involved with the justice process in some aspect. I’d like to think that’s what politics is but just in a much grander fashion.”

“Justice? So that’s all you’re in it for? The justice aspect of things?” I find that hard to believe. Sure, politicians have power but, in my opinion, it’s typically for all of the wrong reasons when it comes to most of them. I’ll give credit when it is due to those who actually do bring about the shifts in culture, growth, and renewal that they speak of but other than that, I’ve never been drawn to anything about it. I’m no American flag waving, super patriotic chick. Most would say I’m living the modernized American dream since I have no husband or children within my home seemingly by choice, but what the hell is the American dream anyway? What makes it the ultimate goal?

“I’d be liar if I said that is the only thing on my mind. I do want to make a difference, but not only within this city, but also within this country. For me, that’s a duty much like it is for a military officer who willingly signs up to protect and serve, but politics comes with networking unlike any other and that’s the type of networking that I need so that I can continue to take not only myself but also my businesses to new horizons.”

“I see.”

“You sound displeased.” His soft chuckle followed the sound of his fork hitting the plate. He then took a sip of his wine and leaned in to get a better glimpse at my facial expression.

“I’m not displeased. I can’t or won’t knock your hustle.”

“My hustle?”

“Everyone has a hustle.”

“This is true. I haven’t heard that word in quite a while but we know it well, being from here and all. Let me ask you this about your hustle Sarai. We all know and see how well you’ve done for yourself. We’ve applauded it and continue to do so. But is that it? All that you want to do with that powerful voice of yours is use it for sports? You only want to lend your voice to analyze, occasionally critique, and celebrate a bunch of pompous athletes who will never do the same for you in return?” This man has a lot of nerve.

“I lend my voice to what moves the world no matter what is going on. As I said, sports are a vital part of the culture of not only this country, but the entire world. People turn on their televisions every day, tune in through mobile devices, tablets, and whatever the hell else, just to be able to hear what I have to say. Those pompous athletes you speak of approach me whenever they’re able to catch me out somewhere and they either thank me or humbly admit they can understand why I critiqued something they did. I have no problem lending my voice to them, because they’re ordinary people with once in a lifetime talent, who live their lives under microscopes of misjudgment and scrutiny. As a politician, shouldn’t you understand that? Aren’t you supposed to be a voice for the people?”

“Yes, for the people.”

“And they’re people just like anyone else is.”

“I see bigger things for you. I always have. Why do you think I’ve been so adamant about us having a moment like this? It’s not only because I’ve always been attracted to you and interesting in having something more, but also because I want you with me during this journey. I believe that we can really get out there and make a real difference within this world. The Obamas were just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to black faces like ours being in positions of power. I don’t want what Barack accomplished to be a one and done because that’s what these white motherfuckers are working their hardest to make sure of. No one’s pushing back enough as far as I’m concerned but I’m going to be the one to do so.”

“You just said that you saw me becoming an actress or a model and now all of a sudden, I’m Michelle Obama’s successor? That’s funny. Ultimately, I’d like to believe we’re both already making a difference. No?”

“We are, but we’re just in the early stages of it. We’re still gold fish in a world full of sharks. You want to get ahead in this world? Not only do you have to be a shark too, but in our case, we have to be the sharpest ones because we don’t get to slide by with mediocrity like the others do.”

“I agree with that in some aspects.”

“Sarai, I don’t want to do this alone and this country prides itself on the foundation of family. I need a family. I can’t continue running for these higher offices without a wife by my side and eventually, a couple of children too.”

“You just said Sarai I don’t want to do this alone, and then you went on to explain all of the political reasons why you need me. What am I supposed to be? A prop? I’m not into politics. I’m a Democrat by default and it’s only because it’s the lesser of two evils. That’s all I have in that department and as far as I’m concerned, I’m fine with it. In addition to that, is that what our foundation is supposed to be? You’d be sliding a ring on my finger, when? Tonight? Next week? Maybe a month or two from now? And it’ll all be for the sake of you continuing to catapult your political career? Excuse my French, but you must be out of your fucking mind Quinton.” The octaves within our voices hadn’t shifted whatsoever and if anyone were closely observing us, you’d think we were two people gleefully enjoying one another over a candlelit dinner and yet the reality is, propositions are being laid out on the table and underhanded insults were being slipped in somewhere in between them.

“Your mother said you would say that.”

“My mother? You spoke with my mother about this? Oh yeah, you are the idiot that I’ve always thought you were.”

“An idiot? So, you’re calling me an idiot for having yearned for you for all of these years while you deliberately ignored me? I’m an idiot for ignoring the advances of women of many different statures all for the sake of having Sarai Nazaire, the around the way girl, as my wife?” I nearly spit out the wine swirling around in my mouth onto the table in response to the manner in which he said my name. He’d said it like I was some damsel in distress who needed his rescuing.

“Are you blaming me for decisions that you made on your own accord? You chose to ignore those women. You could have done whatever you liked. Also, I wasn’t ignoring you. I had a lot going on and I wasn’t in a place to nurture a relationship.”

“But you were in enough of a place to be with Shamel?”

“I didn’t do much nurturing of that.” And neither did he. I tried. If no one will give me credit for it, I certainly will give it to myself. I tried to be a lot of things for that man but from his perspective I came up short in every category. There wasn’t a single aspect of me that he believed to be more than or even just enough for him.

“And even with our history, there isn’t anything about you and I that makes sense?”

“What history? Are you speaking of our friendship or the one time we slept together? I hope for the sake of us walking away from this table with somewhat of a decent connection to one another, that you’re speaking about our friendship.”

“I’m speaking about everything; everything that happened and everything that you resisted. You’ve never given me a chance.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now? Why do you think I’m sitting here? I’m trying to give you a chance and yet you’re sitting there propositioning me instead of courting me. Am I supposed to be flattered?”

“I am courting you. I want to court you. I’m not trying to jump into all of this as quickly as you assume. I’m simply letting you know my intentions. I don’t want to date you just for the sake of dating. I want us to work towards having a future together.”

“How can I feel good about hearing something like that when I know that it comes with a motive?” If he and I were to choose to move forward after this date tonight, I’d know that there may possibly be only a small portion of our union that has some authenticity to it.

I’ve never considered myself to be the hopeless romantic type of woman who idly sits around waiting for my prince charming to show up at my door in shining armor and sweep me off of my feet. I don’t even know what I want or need out of love. Far more than anything else, I believe that aspect of life is the most complex and it doesn’t seem to have the patience for me, and that’s alright I suppose because the feeling is sort of mutual.

Even in admitting that, I can’t fake it until we make it with Quinton. I’m not capable of smiling until my cheeks feel like they’re going to shatter, while I pageant wave at crowds of people as a figure within his enormous shadow. We’d eventually become something more corrupt than Watergate and more scandalous than Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. We’d unravel in a manner that this country has never seen a First Couple ever do before. He’s barely tolerating my resistance now, so imagine the reaction he’d have to it once his ego is unbearably and uncontrollably colossal.

“With the places that we’re at within our lives, everyone who we encounter that shows interest will have some sort of a motive.” I, too, have had thoughts that mirrored his. I’ve observed women toss out all of their integrity for a chance encounter with someone prominent and affluent enough to raise their stature within society.

I’ve had men offer to buy me a drink at bars just to be able to speak about their glory days as a high school athlete while noticeably slipping in desires that they believe I can help them with. There are family members who I’ve probably only spoken to once or twice since my birth who have given odd interviews to tabloids for a few bucks about aspects of my life they know nothing about. So, while his statement holds its truths, how can I ever live comfortably if I believe anyone who I encounter has it out for me?

“Well Mr. Politician, let that be so. I won’t applaud you because you’ve made your motive known, but I will politely decline your offer. You’re not a bad guy Quinton. You’re just not my guy. I don’t know who that is or where he’ll come from, but I’d rather wait a lifetime for a man that I’m going to actually have undeniable chemistry with rather than force something for the sake of political bliss. You’re asking me to sacrifice everything about who I am and what I stand for, for you. I’d never ask that of you or anyone else. As you said, there are women out here who would love to be on your arm. Stop turning them down and open yourself up to finding the one for you. Do that for yourself, because this is a cold world and I’d hate for you to have to lay next to someone at night who you don’t even love because you want to sit in the highest office in this country. It’s not worth it, at least for me it isn’t.”

While staring at him, I raised my arm to move one of my tight curls out of my face. Suddenly, my lips rose into a grin that quickly erupted into a giggle. The morning I woke up against Beckham’s chiseled chest with his arms tightly wrapped around my body, he joked about my hair being in his mouth at one point while we slept. As we lay there, he switched my name during every sentence that spilled from his rose toned lips. I was Diana Ross, Donna Summers, and Chaka Khan. He even joked that if I’m going to keep my hair like this, then I’d have to put on one of those bonnets that black mothers wear outside to embarrass their kids. I hadn’t laughed so hard since the last time we were together. It seems like all of my laughter comes from him being around him these days.

“You’ve made your choice. I guess I have to live with that.” He grabbed the bottle of wine off of the table and refilled his glass to the edges of the brim. He then tightly gulped it down while my eyes washed over the motion of his Adam’s apple. The tension radiating from his frame snatched what was left of my appetite. We certainly don’t have to bother with dessert.

“You’ll be living with a choice that’s what’s best for both you and I. You don’t want me. I’m sure if I allowed it, you’d climb into bed with me tonight, but anything more? It’s not realistic. I’ve never felt wanted by you and you’ve never felt that from me. We both deserve more. If you don’t believe so, then I do. I deserve someone who looks at me like I was born to be his. I’d prefer to be with a man who indisputably wants me and only me.”

“Well I hope you find that, Sarai.”

“I’m not looking for it. If it comes my way, then that’s amazing. If not, I’ll be alright.”

Silence fell between us and once again, my eyes were gazing out at the striking scenery surrounding the restaurant. As fucked up as it sounds, this would have been a beyond perfect date if that unknown man that I speak of were sitting across from me tonight. Instead of tension, there’d be flirtatious giggles and glances of affection. My heel clad feet would be intentionally grazing against his calves to entice him just as much as he’d be doing to me simply by existing.

While speaking, my ears would be listening to anything he chose to say while my eyes would be reading the clear message of him having every intention to have me gripping the sheets and crying out his name in our bedroom, within his. Not being able to take it anyone, we’d call for the check with half eaten plates in front of us and would waltz off into the night with a care or concern about anything or anyone other than one another. In a perfect world, that’s how things would be, but this world isn’t perfect and neither am I.

“Check please.” I guess he wants to get out of here just as bad as I do.

“Quinton, I’m going to go. I can cover this if you’d like.” I ruined his night. It’s the least that I can do, right?

“There’s no need for you to do that. You’re here by the way of my invitation. I have it under control. Enjoy the rest of your night.” Everything about his tone reeked of dismissiveness and yet I’m unbothered. I get it.

“I’ll see you around, okay? We usually catch one another at church from time to time.”

“I suppose so.”

Upon my arrival to the restaurant, we greeted one another with a huge hug and yet as I’m making my exit a few minutes short of an hour and a half later, I can feel his cold glare following my every move. I insisted that we meet here instead of allowing him to come and pick me up from my place. I’m not comfortable with too many people knowing where I rest my head at night. I know him well enough to know he’d surprisingly pop up at my door and that would easily leave a bad taste in my mouth, so I saved him the future embarrassment and myself the annoyance. With the way this evening ended, my driving here was clearly God being on my side.

Though the night was barely young, boredom coerced me into cruising around Brooklyn for the hell of it. It was my favorite past time in my hooptie Honda Civic during those summers when I’d be on break from college and had time to spare after putting in the necessary hours for whatever internship I was working for that particular summer. There’s something about it that makes me feel close to my father. I’d turn corners on familiar blocks and those great memories of the two of us taking this borough by a storm would come to the forefront of my thoughts. I’d remember the conversations we’d have with him endlessly dropping knowledge for me to carry with me on life’s journeys and the constant words of reassurance so that I’d always know how proud of me he was. We’d playfully debate about who is greater between Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson, why the Fresh Prince of Bel Air is better than the Cosby Show, and why Allen Iverson will never be my husband. In his neighborly manner, he’d speak to everyone sitting out on their porches and would even buy ice cream for whatever kids were outside if the Mister Softie truck was around. Though my mother would scold him for spending so carelessly, he did it anyway.

It’s cold now. The sidewalks don’t have girls jumping double-dutch, boys aren’t riding by on their bikes, nor are people sitting out on their porches scoping the scene and gossiping about what’s hot on the block. Those memories aren’t coming to me either. Instead, my mind is consumed with something or rather someone else. It’s funny how that works; do you call it a crush or infatuation? Interest or just simple attraction? I don’t know how to define it but this is the first time I’m learning just how out of control our emotions can be.

On the surface, you can put on a performance like you have it all together and absolutely nothing can faze you, but internally? There’s this train wreck on an endless loop. This doesn’t feel like a train wreck though. Instead, there are flutters within the core of my body. Chills trickle up my arms and onto the napes of my neck, and trigger goosebumps that linger around enough to unnerve me. My toes curl, chest tightens, and taking breaths becomes a task to focus on. My duties and concerns for those beyond myself now includes an additional person. How has it come to a point of me not wanting to fail him? How did I get here?

I don’t know how to navigate any of this. I’m a small fish taken out of a pond and thrown into an ocean of the unknown. What now? Do a swim and explore what may be one of the most beautiful experiences of my life? Do I stay right there in the one place I landed and resist learning or exploring everything out of fear? Do I hopelessly swim and end up getting viciously eaten up by something that is beyond me? Shamel was easy, frustrating as fuck, but easy nonetheless. Easy became toxic but in the midst of that, I never had to think this much. We just co-existed. I fear the expectations. I may not live up to the fantasy style of hype that circulates about me.

Just as Quinton had mentioned, I’m the cool around the way girl who can carry a conversation with the dudes probably even better than I can with the chicks. I’ve seen men on social media deem me to be the type of wife who can make the platter of hot wings and then come and flop down on the couch to watch the NBA Finals with my man. It’s possible, but I’m so much more than that. I have my baggage and bullshit with me too. Is that okay? When the make-up is off, my hair is up in the sloppiest ponytail ever, and a t-shirt three times my size with some socks and Nike slippers are covering my body, will I still be the fantasy? When I’m nagging about something that’s irritating me, having one of those days when I don’t want to be bothered with anyone or anything, or having some sort of a mood swing because Mother Nature is running her monthly course, will everything still be all good? I don’t know.

“Oh, fuck you Fantasia. Fuck you.” I’d been letting Apple Music do its thing by allowing my own playlists to flourish while I drive. Having the formatting on shuffle made the transition from Biggie’s “I Got A Story to Tell” to Fantasia’s “When I See You” completely catch me off guard. I’d quickly gone from being lost in my thoughts to listening to Fantasia sing them.

“Screw that.”

I switched to a playlist filled with the Best of The Bad Boy Records Era. I kept the sappy and moody vibe, with just the right amount of Hip-Hop added in for the drive back into Jersey. I saw my home in my rearview mirror as I slowly drove past it. Though I should have parked in my garage and called it a night, my hands remained attached to the steering wheel and my foot pressed on the gas to continue the journey to the person and place invading and conquering my every thought. In one of our many conversations we’ve had, we discussed how many cars he owns and all three of them were very much parked in their usual spots, but the additional cars were a warning that he had company in the house. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew that he did, and yet I’ve come here anyway.

I remained unnoticeably parked in his cobblestone driveway for minutes in an attempt to gather my thoughts. It feels like I’m the one who’s pursuing him nowadays. I’m the one in an odd chase.

Hey. Are you busy?

Seconds later, the bubble appeared at the bottom of the screen.

No. What’s up?

I’m not sure what vibe he’s giving. There’s something about that reply that seems short or rather standoffish.

I’m in your driveway.

And looking desperate as hell while at it.

Come in the house. I’ll have someone unlock the door.

I’d be uncomfortable and fearful of what could or would go behind the walls of his home. One innocent slip up with the wrong person could easily cause a world of trouble for me more so than him.

You think maybe you can come outside?

What am I thinking? The man is on crutches. That wouldn’t be fair.

Never mind. I know you have company and I don’t want to disrupt. I’ll just come by tomorrow.

It’s what I should have done in the first place.

Give me five minutes. I’ll come outside.

It was less than five minutes. Despite the crisp cold air, he crutched himself out of the door in a pair of Nike shorts and a hoodie. There was one Virgil Abloh designed Jordan I on his one foot and of course his protective boot on the other. I suppose the beanie hat covering his blonde curls is what is supposed to serve as his protective barrier from the chill. Once he opened up the passenger side door, he tossed his crutches into the back, and carefully slid into the front seat. For the sake of comforting his ankle, he used the side panel on the bottom of the seat to adjust it further back from the normal position it’s usually in.

“Sarai. What’s up?” He finally closed the door and I couldn’t be any more thankful. The fall air was beginning to win against the low heat I had going in the car.

“Nothing major. How are you?” His large hands reached up to readjust his hat as he responded with a shrug.

“Chillin’. Nothing major for me either. I went back home to Louisiana for a couple of days. That was cool.”

“That’s good. I’m sure it was good to get a change of scenery since the injury has had you so cooped up in the house.”

“Yeah, it was a nice little visit. I got to kick it with my brothers and my sister. We even did a family dinner and both my momma and my pops were there. That shit rarely happens these days, so, I’m pleased with how it all turned out.” 
“Did you visit LSU?”

“Not this time. I’m going to visit later on in the month. I’m designing an exclusive Air Force I with Nike and I plan on giving the whole team pairs. So, while I’m down there, I’ll probably kick it at a game.”

“That’s dope. I’m sure they’re going to appreciate that coming from you. Not only are you a hometown hero, but you’ve certainly cemented your legendary status within the LSU history books.”

“For sure. I care about giving back but in this case, I definitely care about inspiring those boys to know that I haven’t done anything that they aren’t capable of achieving.” His humbling spirit is a major part of the foundation that draws me to him. It exudes itself during any conversation he’s having.

“That’s real.”

For the first time since he sat inside of the car, our eyes met and he slowly panned his own down to assess every aspect of my frame. His lips flattened as he tightly pressed them together and with a slight nod, he turned his head forward just as it had been before.

“How was the date?”

Breathless; it’s how he left me. I opened my mouth to speak and whatever words I thought I mustered up to tell him instantly fell flat.

“You’re not wearing a dress like that to church.”

“It was thought provoking and extremely disappointing.”

“And that’s why you’re here?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here? Let me correct that before you assume. I’m not bothered by your presence. I’m anything but that. You’re just confusing. I spend a lot of time trying to figure you out and I feel like I understand some areas and I come up short in others. I’m just wondering if you’re here because things went badly with him.”

“I’m not here because of that. I already knew how things would go with him before I even went but I needed to, because he’s been in this weird state of limbo and has been filled with hope for years and I needed to know why. Now I know.”

“And that’s all it was?”

“That’s it.” It’s been years since I explained myself to a man. Shamel and I ended damn near four years ago and I despised explaining myself to him because I was made out to be a liar no matter what I said.

“So, you’re here now. Now what? We talk and you run depending upon the way the conversation goes? Or is this the official moment when you friend zone me?”

“Odell, I’m not friend zoning you.” A huff escaped my lips as my fingers trailed from the top of my head and through the curls cascading over my shoulders.

I couldn’t bear to look after him after blurting out what I’d been so afraid to say. Early on, I attempted to keep him as nothing more than a random figment within the professional realm of my life. That failed. I then chose to view him as an acquaintance I run into from time to time and that flopped before I could put it to the test. After spending all of those days in the hospital, the friend zone felt appropriate and as if it could be a success between he and I, but I’d been telling my mind a disastrous lie that my emotions refused to adapt to.  

“I just don’t know how any of this works. You say I’m confusing and I can be, but this is just as confusing.” I motioned between he and myself for emphasis.

“Well let’s figure it out.” The intensity of his glare silenced the mental clutter. The tone of his voice created a safe and comfort zone unlike any other.

The warmth of his palm met the top of my hand and I instantly flipped it over so our palms could meet. Our fingers laced, interlocking everything we weren’t saying and sealing a deal we’d yet to make.

As the faint music played, the clock grabbed my attention.

“I have something for you.”

“You have something for me? Like what?” His lips curved into that all too familiar smirk of his and his eyes blissfully gleamed. Rather than saying it, I exited the car and quickly made my way to the trunk. I’d been riding around with the box and garment bag in there for over a week and now I can finally cure my anxiousness.

“What’s that?” Again, I didn’t say anything as I leaned in from my side and passed them over so he’d be able to place them on his lap.

“Open the box first.” Once I closed the door, I turned the heat up just a notch more. I didn’t think fall would be hitting this hard. Usually the weather is all over the place, but this year, that shit seems to be no joke. We’re going to be brutalized with snow at the rate things are going.

“Okay.” Like a kid on Christmas, he rubbed his hands together in glee and quickly lifted the lid off. In an instant, he erupted into a booming fit of laughter. I had to join him, because it was so infectious.

I have decent friendship with Angelo Baque, who is more the former brand director of Supreme. We met two years ago at New York Fashion Week and we’ve remained in touch ever since. He even had me model in an ad campaign for the brand last year that was plastered all over New York City in anticipation for fashion week. So, though his Supreme days are behind him, it doesn’t mean that he isn’t in good standing with the brand. It ended up being fairly easy to have a custom Supreme x Louis Vuitton printed walking boot created for Odell.

“Sarai. This is fire.” He closely examined it with bits of giggles that eventually turned into laughter once again. It amused me just as much when I picked it up. It’s fashionably loud and just as gaudy as he can be sometimes. If he’s going to have to wear a big ol’ medical boot, why not make it something representative of himself?

“You like it?”

“Hell yeah. This is perfect. You already know that I sometimes get frustrated as hell when I look down at that boot and you just fixed that problem.”

“I know. That’s why I got it.”

“I love it. I love it so much.”

“I know you have so much of the collection in your possession already because I’ve seen it on your Instagram, but you don’t have this. It’s a sample piece that never made it into the collection. I asked your mom for your size and by a miracle, one of the two jackets of its kind can fit you.” I held the box to make it easier for him to unzip the garment bag and he pulled out the vivid red bomber style of jacket. Everything about it screamed his name when I laid my eyes on it and I had to have it for him, no matter what the price tag was for it. Luckily, it wasn’t as overly hefty as I thought it would be. It’s the perfect piece to pair with the walking boot. Just because he’s injured, doesn’t mean that he can’t be as on point as he usually is when he’s out and about.

“And I thought I had connects. Whew! This is crazy. And it’s a one of one? At least for me it is. I’ma have to stunt with this one. It’s only right.”

“I know a few people.”

“Shit, a few more than me. Sarai, this is amazing. You got me cheesing like a kid on Christmas right now.”

“I know.”

“Oh, so you know me huh?” Why did he have to bite his lip after such a question? My backside shifted in the seat as my thighs pressed together much tighter than they already were.

“I know some things.”

“I want you to know everything.” Our hands met again as I reached to turn the heat off. I didn’t need it anymore.

In an attempt to mask the fluttering radiating throughout my body, I slid further down into the seat.

“I’d like that.”

My eyes panned over to the clock once again. Just as I did, midnight was finally upon us.

“Happy Birthday Odell.”

All week long, I’d been contemplating how I’d go about acknowledging him on his day. I didn’t want it to be the typical call or an impersonal text message. It certainly wasn’t going to be some social media post with a long heartfelt caption like I’m sure he’s going to receive from many throughout the day. Since I’d be bearing gifts, I knew it needed to be done here, but the exact timeframe was a silent debate. Finally, I settled on coming right around this time.

“Thank you, baby.”

Like he’d been doing since he was finally able to trap me into his world at the Bleacher Report party, he leaned over to invade my space. As my head turned, his plush lips brushed mine in a fiery passion and demand. He took possession of all seven of my senses and shifted us into a place where only he and I exist. The warmth of his minty breath rid our space of any bit of cool air trickling into the car.

“Sarai.” He huskily whispered my name; savoring every syllable as if he’d never heard anything more beautiful. Our breaths mingled as his lips pressed into mine.

I would have thought after all of the footage I’ve watched, all of pictures I’ve looked over, and all of the time we’ve spent speaking that I’d know quite a bit about his lips because they’re certainly my favorite part of him to look at thus far, but absolutely nothing could prepare me for this. Nothing.

His tongue sensually brushed over both of my lips in a plea for entry and I granted it. The warmth of his tongue grazed mine and his arm wrapped around my waist and drew me closer in a ravenousness that could not be ignored. He awoken parts of me that have been ignored for nearly four years. I yearned for a type of touch that I haven’t been able to properly satisfy through my own store-bought measures. I’ve laid awake at night wondering how his kiss would feel and as he sucking on my bottom lip in a tease that is sure to send me to an early grave, my wonder didn’t have a chance of measuring up to what I’m feeling right now.

“Take me home with you.” My heart thrashed against my chest as I pulled my quivering bottom lip in-between my teeth. Dear, God.

“Not for anything more than just me spending time with you. That’s it.”

“You have company in your house. You can’t leave them.”

“Yes, I can and I am. Drive.” It wasn’t a request but rather an order.

He settled back into the seat and boldly pulled the passenger side seatbelt over his body and properly secured it. For the sake of my own comfort, he removed the box from my lap and placed it back onto his.

I gazed into his tempting dark chocolate eyes for just a minute to see if he’d change his mind, but he sat patiently waiting for me to make my move and so I did.

I slowly pulled around his driveway and drove off into the night.

[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede             Chapter 57:  Happily Ever After

Chapters 1-55  Chapter 56

Peter and Laura were still sitting on the deck of their new house, basking in the glow of their engagement while their puppy, Marshall, tried to get her share of their attention.

“When can we get married?” Laura asked before continuing to sprinkle kisses all over Peter’s face, giggling as she did.

“Tomorrow.  Wednesday at the latest.”  Peter turned his face so that he could steal a proper kiss.

“It’ll have to be a pretty low-key wedding, then,” she muttered against his lips.

He pulled slightly back and frowned.  “Maybe next week then.  I want a big wedding, with everything.  In church.”

“We probably can’t make that happen before Wednesday,” she responded, leaning in to recapture his mouth with hers.  Laura didn’t need a big wedding, but if Peter wanted one, she would make it happen. 

Peter smoothed a hand over Laura’s hair, keeping his face very close to hers, but breaking the kiss so that he could look into her eyes.  “So be it.  But I’m married to you starting right now.”

When would he stop saying things so wonderful they brought tears to her eyes?

“And I’m married to you,” she managed, shaky though her voice suddenly was.  

“Till death do us part.”

“Amen,” she breathed.

Several long minutes of deep, slow, and promising kisses followed before Peter chuckled softly.

“Why are we making out on these steps when I bought us an entire house to make out in?”

“About that.”  Laura looked at him mock-seriously.  “Is it really my house, too?”

“That’s how married works.”

“Then I have a suggestion.  Actually, it’s more of a demand.”

“Of course it is,” Peter laughed fondly, standing and offering her a hand up.

As they stepped back into the house, careful of Marshall as she scampered inside with them, Laura said, “I want to make love to you in every room.  And on the stairs.  And in the garage.  Is there an attic?  The attic, too.”

“Hmmmm.  I appreciate your confidence in me, but that might be kind of a tall order, Sunshine.  Is there a time frame for this project?”

She turned and put her arms around his waist, looking up at him with sheer joy.  “Well, I don’t want to hurt you.  We’ll take breaks.  You know, to hydrate and stuff.”

Laughing, Peter said, “I can’t say no to you.  Let me show you the rest of the house, and you can choose where you want to start.”

Peter walked Laura around the house, which wasn’t large, but had all the space they could need.  He showed her the rest of the downstairs rooms, which included an office where he could work from home when he chose, then took her upstairs to show her that, in addition to the master bedroom and bath, there were two smaller bedrooms with a jack-and-jill bathroom between them.  Neither room had any furniture in it at the moment.

Laura stood looking thoughtfully around, an arm around Peter’s waist.  She had been exclaiming over everything, telling him over and over in thrilled exclamations how much she loved the house.  Now, she spoke more quietly, maybe even a little wistfully.

“I guess these are for the little Stones.”

“I hope so.”  

She turned to put her other arm around him, looking up at him.  “Is this real?  Do I really get to be married to you and live in this perfect house and have babies and a Yellow Lab named Marshall?  I’m not going to wake up, am I?”

“Nope.  It’s real, Sunshine.”

A series of progressively more intimate caresses later, Peter reminded Laura that they hadn’t seen the basement or the garage yet.

“Do you think we should take a break first?”  She pressed her body to his.  “You’re looking awfully good right this minute.”

“You don’t want to see the rest of your house?”

“I’m more interested in seeing the rest of my husband at the moment.”

“Come on.  I have one more surprise.”  His smile was so childishly excited that she couldn’t resist, and followed him down the stairs.  In the kitchen, Peter opened a door and flicked on a light so that Laura could see that it led to an attached garage.  Inside was a shiny, compact red sedan.

“Ooh, what a cute car! But what do you need two cars for?”

“I don’t.  That one’s yours.  You live in the ‘burbs now, Sunshine, you’re gonna need one.  Dan picked it out for you.”

“It’s mine?”

“Yep.  Do you like it?”

“I love it!” She hopped down the few stairs into the garage and began exploring the car, laughing and squealing as she discovered different features.  After a short time, though, her mind turned back to Peter.  She was more than ready to get her hands on him.

“Is this your last surprise?  Because you’ve already spoiled me way too much.  I really don’t think I can take any more.  How am I supposed to thank you for-” she gestured around her.  “All this?”  

For Peter, the fun of watching her discover all the things he’d done to begin their life together was well worth the untold hours and days he had put into it.  Still, like Laura, he was feeling ready to settle in one room and get serious about the kissing and touching they’d started and stopped several times since the airport.

“C’mon.  One more room.  And after that, I have some ideas about how you can thank me.  Besides, by then I will have exhausted my ability to resist you in that skirt.”

He led her across the great room to a stairway with a wrought-iron railing, leading down.  As the stairway turned for the last few steps, Laura saw a finished basement room that perhaps could become a den, but currently had very little furniture in it.  Through a door, she glimpsed a laundry room beyond.  Of the sparse furniture in the main room, by far the largest and most noticeable piece was an ugly, flowered couch.

“No.  You did not let her foist this monstrosity on you.”

“Us,” Peter corrected.

“Us.”

“What could I say?  Remember what you told her about it?  She said that, now that we’re together, it’s a memento.  I was trapped.”

Laura erupted in laughter, going over to sit on the floral couch and bouncing with glee.  “Well, then we have no choice,” she announced.

“What?”

“This couch.  This room.  It’s where we have to start.  Because then what I told my Mom would kind of be true.  Sort of.  I mean, it’ll be our first time in this house…”

“Sunshine, there is not a court in the world that would buy that argument.”

“I don’t care.  I’m too happy.  I’m so happy, and so in love with you, that I can even make love to you on this horror of a couch, as long as you let me take your clothes off.  I tend not to pay attention to anything else when you’re naked.”

“I can do that.” 

Laura patted the seat next to her.  “Come here.”

Peter happily complied. Almost immediately, Laura pushed him back so that he was half-lying, and began to remove the soft, grey Henley he wore, sliding her hands underneath it and up his torso while her lips softly but insistently moved against his.  He helped her pull his shirt off, but sat back up and, with his hands on either side of her waist, moved her to stand in front of him, between his legs.  He looked into her eyes as he slowly, lightly slid his hands up her legs and under the hem of the short, frayed denim skirt she wore. He stroked up her thighs and over her hips, until his fingers reached the waistband of her panties.  Then he lazily, deliberately began to slide them down, never breaking eye contact as his hands stroked languidly back down her hips, down her thighs, drawing the silky fabric with them until they dropped to the floor.  

Once again, his hands began the slow, sensual glide up her legs.  She had been on low-level simmer since he’d backed her up against his SUV at the airport.  Now, she felt a demanding, throbbing heat and a desperate need to feel him touching her. He caressed the back of her thighs, running his hands up under her skirt to cup the curves of her backside.  He fondled her gently, alternating soft squeezes with light, teasing rubs, and moving his fingertips so that they kept promising to slide between her legs, but never quite touched her where she needed him to.

“Lay down,” she whispered, moving so that he could lift his legs onto the couch.  She knelt with one knee between his legs and, as slowly as she could given the intense heat he had ignited at her core, she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.  She let her fingers brush against him, feeling the hot firmness of him through his boxer briefs.  But she didn’t take his pants off, as he’d expected her to.  Instead, she flattened her hands out on his skin, just above the waistline of his jeans, and ran them slowly up his body, reveling in the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest.  She ended up kneeling above him, one knee on the couch and one foot on the floor, hands resting beneath him on either side of his chest, making contact with his body only with her mouth.  

First, she kissed him deeply, running her tongue along his bottom lip and then slipping it inside his mouth to play with his.  He groaned and splayed his hands across her back, but she didn’t lower her body onto his. Instead, she began to kiss his jaw, slow kisses punctuated by occasional flicks with the tip of her tongue, down to his throat.  

“You are so fucking sexy,” she murmured, kissing across his Adam’s apple to softly slide her lips down the other side of his neck.  “I love you, Peter Stone.  I love our house…  and I love our dog…  and I love our car…”

She continued the light touch of her lips and incidental tiny licks, taking her time while she breathed in the intoxicating scent of him.

Panting, he pulled at her light sweater as she slipped her feet out of the soft flats she wore.  She let him take her sweater off, dropping it without a thought to the floor as he reached for her again, but she continued running her lips across his skin, now having reached his shoulder.  Softly and slowly, she kissed and licked from one side, across his broad upper chest, to the other, then leaned all of her weight on one arm so that she could use her other hand to caress his glorious body.  She stroked up his arm, across his chest, down tantalizingly close to the open fly of his jeans, to his waist and flank.  He felt like a statute, like marble wrapped in warm, soft leather.  

He could run his hands along her arms and down her back, and could slide the backs of his fingers up her belly and across her chest, but the angle was wrong for him to be able to take her breasts into his hands as he wanted to.  He slid the tips of his fingers inside the cups of her bra, teasing her as she was teasing him.  But she was in control.  She moved her knee slightly so that her thigh was slanted across his crotch as she continued her slow exploration of his upper body with her mouth.  As intended, he began to rub against her leg.  

She kissed her way to his nipple, flicking her tongue across it and feeling an answering flinch. With the fingertips of her free hand, she teased his other nipple to hardness.  He was making soft sounds in the back of his throat - not quite moans yet, but definitely sounds of pleasure - as she played with his sensitive nipples.

“Fuck, Sunny,” he whispered.  

The problem with making love to Peter was, his body was so beautiful, and he smelled so good, and made such unbearably erotic noises, it was almost impossible not to rub herself against him as she ripped off his jeans to take his lovely cock in her mouth. She wanted to please him, to draw out the delicious sensations until he was desperate for her, but he made her just as desperate for him without doing anything but reacting.  She willed herself to go slowly as she made her way, lips grazing across his ribs, down his torso.  

He was now rolling his hips, trying to reestablish contact with her so he could rub his hardening cock against any part of her he could reach, but she had moved further down and was again touching him only with her mouth.  She took her time kissing and licking her way down his abdomen until he reached down, groaning, and gently pushed on her shoulders.  

Laura relented, hardly more in control than he was, and softly mouthed his now-hard cock through his boxer briefs.  The scent of him, after so many months, warm and musky and spicy, was too much.  She nuzzled him for as long as she could stand it before reaching up and tugging his jeans and briefs together down his hips. She stood up just long enough to pull them off his legs, along with his shoes, and dropped it all to the floor.  Then, pulling her denim skirt up her thighs, she slid a leg between Peter’s hip and the back of the couch, straddling him.  

He put a hand on either of Laura’s hips, pulling the skirt up so that it bunched uselessly around her waist, and tried to guide her to him, but she gave a wicked chuckle as she leaned over him.  

“Who’s impatient now?” She asked, covering his mouth with her own and sliding herself, hot and slippery, up his shaft to begin rubbing small, fiery circles across his dripping head.

“I am,” he growled, gripping her more firmly and moving his hips to try to enter her.  “Now, fuck me.”

“Say please,” she teased.

“Please,” he gasped, pulling her onto his cock with one hand across her lower back while moving the other to her hair to crush her mouth to his.    

Laura felt a dull, exquisite ache as her body stretched to take him in.  It took just a moment to slide herself all the way down onto him, both of them crying out with the long-delayed sensation.  Peter lifted her up, hands on her hips, and began an insistent rhythm.  She used her hands, braced on either side of him, to hold her weight while she followed his thrusts.  He took a moment to, none too gently, remove her bra and toss it to the floor, then pulled her down against him.  The pace and intensity of their rutting became more furious.  Laura moved her hips to change the angle at which her clit was rubbing against him, beginning to gasp with each thrust.

Peter knew she was about to come apart.

“Say my name,” he hissed, pounding into her as his own climax neared.  “I wanna hear you say my name when you come.”

“Peter… fuck… I’m so close, I…  Peter!” She called his name several times between cries of ecstasy, pushing him to explode into her with his own long, loud shout.

They took a long break to lie together, wrecked but recovering, laughing quietly and enjoying the sensation of being together, in their own house, married (unofficially, for the moment).  After a half hour or so, they padded into the laundry room to find something to clean themselves up with, and Peter helped Laura take off the skirt they hadn’t gotten around to removing.  Which led to more touching, which led to him lifting her up and, with her legs wrapped around him, inaugurating the laundry room with Laura’s back against the wall.  

Back up in the kitchen, they took some time to share a sandwich and a can of soda before Peter set Laura on the granite countertop and tongue-fucked her into oblivion.  There was some discussion about whether to have sex in the garage but, without too much trouble, Laura convinced Peter it was necessary and gave him the blow job of his life in the back seat of her new car.

And so it went.  They were tired and - although they didn’t admit it to each other - a little sore when they finally made it to bed that night. But it was entirely worth it.

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

Mark Jeffries had actually had people come to him to ask what was going on with Peter Stone.  The rumors were wild, and Mark enjoyed hearing them, but he always firmly corrected them.  It had been a shock when Stone had taken a vacation the previous Christmas, but besides commenting that it was odd to see him actually out of the office, no one said much.  But then, six months later, he had taken another vacation.  That was weird.  Two vacations in one year for a guy whom no one could remember ever taking a day off? 

Then, the first thing Stone had done upon returning from Stockholm was to hire another attorney and two paralegals.  He started to delegate a lot of work that he would previously have done himself, although as Bureau Chief, he could have been delegating it all along.  He started to assign ADAs other than himself to sit first chair at more trials – even some fairly big ones.  They were more than capable, he’d just always taken more than his share of the workload.  And although he was, as always, already in the office working when everyone else arrived, he started to leave before they did.  Peter Stone had never left the office at a normal hour.  Ever. 

But when, after returning from that second vacation to Stockholm, he had started to take a lot of time off - sometimes just one day, sometimes several in a row – without explanation, that was when people began to speculate, and eventually a few intrepid souls approached the State’s Attorney to find out what was going on.

Because Stone was different, too.  The ice-cold, humorless automaton made jokes.  Jokes.  He let his hair grow longer than they’d ever seen it. He listened to people talk about their personal lives, and he actually asked questions.  He laughed at the slightest provocation.  Things that would previously have earned a subordinate a severe tongue-lashing started to result in a two-sided conversation, instead.  But the weirdest thing, the thing that let people know that something was definitely going on with him, was the smiling.  Stone smiled.  Like, all the time.  Had his assistant not been extremely discreet and loyal, she could have told people that sometimes he smiled and laughed when he was all alone in his office. 

Mark knew why.  He knew that Peter had bought a house shortly after returning from Stockholm, and had spent a lot of time working on it and moving in.  Mark was authorized to tell people that; it wasn’t a secret, or even private, and it sort of explained the changes.  But Mark also now knew the whole story of Peter’s relationship with Laura. 

He had ended up calling Stone into his office to have a drink and a talk because he, Mark, had noticed the changes and, as Stone’s boss, wanted to know what was going on.  Mark was overjoyed for Peter, and he said so repeatedly.  What he didn’t say out loud was how stunned he was to find out that what had been driving Stone all this time was a lot more than just a need for his father’s approval.  He was also blown away that no-nonsense, black-and-white Peter Stone was, in truth, a deeply romantic man who had been nursing a hopeless love for years.

When people around the State’s Attorney’s office learned that he was getting married, they thought they had put two and two together.  No wonder Stone was so happy and didn’t want to work all the time. He was in love.  Which was correct, but nowhere near the whole story.  The office gossips expected that, after the honeymoon, he’d go back to normal.  What they didn’t know was that this – joking, open, smiling - was Peter’s normal.  And he never went back to the stern, frozen sleepwalker who had spent years working himself into the ground just to forget.  

 ********************

The day before marrying Peter, Laura went to the small chapel attached to the church. She felt as though she should do something to honor Rafael, and their marriage, but she wasn’t quite sure what.  She was glad to find herself alone in the chapel as she lit a candle for him, then crossed herself and knelt to pray for him.  She ended up spending much longer than she had intended, certainly praying for Rafael, but unexpectedly doing a lot of thinking, as well.  

She had long been troubled by the thought that Rafael would be furious to know that she had ended up with Peter, after all.  But there in the chapel, she remembered something Rafael had said to her once, and had refused to explain.  She and Rafael had been married for over two years at that point and, over a romantic dinner, had been marveling – again – at how perfectly things had turned out for them.  Laura began gently teasing Rafael about having been jealous of Peter.  She had expected a sarcastic response but, instead, Rafael had become thoughtful for just a moment.

“He’s not such a bad guy, Stone.  I think I had him wrong.”

Laura had been genuinely surprised.  “I know I didn’t hear that right.”

“I’m serious.  I saw him do something once, something I would never have the guts, or the class, to do. It… changed things.”

“What did he do?”

Rafael had looked into her eyes with a mysterious smile.  “That’s between me and him.  But I understand things a little better now.”

“Are you going to tell me what things?”

“No,” he’d smirked in the way he knew made her hot.  “But you’re welcome to try to make me.”

There in the chapel, Laura hoped that Rafael could somehow know how deeply she loved him, and would love him for the rest of her life.  She felt, at that moment, a quiet confidence that he did.  Moreover, she knew that he had loved her.  For that reason, she sensed that he would be content, at least, with her choice to marry Peter because he would want her to be happy. And Peter made her completely, insanely happy.

 ****************

On Peter and Laura’s wedding day, the church in which Laura had grown up was full of the people they had known and cared about through their lives.  Although Amanda Rollins hadn’t been able to make it because of the girls, people from Peter and Laura’s New York lives had shown up in force.  Fin, Olivia and Sonny had sat beaming from near the front, and a large number of Peter’s relatives, whom Laura had heard of but never met, sat front and center to make sure he knew he still had plenty of family of his own.  

Several of Peter’s old teammates showed up with their families, teasing him about waiting so long to settle down.  Even a few of Peter’s law school friends and Laura’s friends from nursing school were there, amazed and elated to see this couple, who had been so in love at Northwestern, had found their way back to each other after being torn apart by life.

And then, of course, there were their Chicago families.  All of the Intelligence Unit were there, including a very emotional Hank Voight, and a healthy contingent of CPD cops from other units.  Most of Firehouse 51 was there, rowdy and cheering whenever the opportunity arose. A large number of Laura’s old coworkers from Chicago Med were there, with a gleeful Dr. Charles and Sharon Goodwin seated together right in the middle of them, both pleased beyond words to see these two have such a happy ending.  A number of Peter’s colleagues from the State’s Attorney’s office were there, but the State’s Attorney himself, Mark Jeffries, wasn’t in the crowd.  He was one of the two groomsmen standing next to Peter.  

The other was Jack McCoy.  When Peter had called Jack to tell him that he was getting married, Jack had basically told Peter that he was coming to the wedding whether he was invited or not. He said that he was probably the person who knew best how much Ben Stone had loved his son, and he insisted on being there to represent him.  When he could finally speak, Peter had told Jack that was convenient, because he was calling to ask him to be his Best Man.  Then it was Jack’s turn to pretend not to cry, and to accept wholeheartedly.

Only a few of Laura’s new colleagues had been invited, because she simply didn’t know many people on the FBI’s Cyber Crimes Task Force well enough yet to invite them. The choice not to return to CPD had been difficult, but not as difficult as Laura had feared.  She had loved carrying a gun and running after bad guys, working all hours to get justice for victims, but she loved Peter more.  She wanted to make choices that would allow her to focus on their life together, just as he was.  That meant she needed the regular hours and relative safety of a job that was done from an office, rather than on the streets.  In the end, she found that she wasn’t sacrificing anything, because the work she was doing was just as rewarding.

Ed Parker would have done anything, given anything, to have spared his daughter the pain of losing Rafael.  Ed had lost him, too, after finding in him a good friend and a man who was more than worthy of Laura’s love.  But this time, when he put his daughter’s hand into that of her new husband, he felt a sense of inevitable completeness that he had only felt one other time: when Carol’s father had put her hand into Ed’s own.  

 *****************  

It was blissfully easy for Laura and Peter to settle into their new life together, even before they were officially married.  Since they had considered themselves married from the moment they’d become engaged, the only real adjustment after their wedding was Laura’s new name.  

One evening, about a week before their wedding, Peter had been down in his office, working, while Laura lay on the leather couch across from his desk.  They often did that, because Peter refused to stay at the office when he could be home with Laura, even if he had work to do, and Laura was perfectly happy to hang out with him while he worked.  All she wanted was to be near him.  

She had put her book down and looked over at him, watching him.  As always, she thought how beautiful he was, how unbelievably fortunate she was to have the love of this man.  He looked over the top of a paper he was studying to smile at her.  

“Can you take a break for a minute?  I want to ask you something,” she said.  

“Of course.  Come here.” Peter held out his arms, and she eagerly accepted the invitation to walk over and sit on his lap, even though it was awkward in his desk chair.  

“What’s on your mind?”  He asked after kissing her.  

“You are.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“It’s very, very good.  I love you, you know.”

“I love you back.”  

Laura exerted a bit of pressure with the hand curled into the back of his hair, pulling his lips to hers for a long, sensual moment.  

“What did you want to ask me?”  

“Well, you’ve never said anything about our names.”

“Our names?”

“After we’re married.  I just… I’ve thought about this a lot, and I want us to have the same name.  It’s romantic.”

“I think so, too.  I want that, too.”  Peter carefully controlled his expression.  He had been thinking about this quite a bit, as well.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

She smiled.  “Good. Because I want to ask you if… you’ll…”

Peter held his breath.   Whatever he had to do, he would do.  But he really, really didn’t want to go through the rest of his life as Peter Parker.  

“Will you give me your name?”

Peter skipped several beats.  “Really?”

“Really,” Laura answered, her eyes wide as she looked into his.  “I’d be honored to have your name.  It means we’re a family.”

“We are a family.”

“Yeah. We are.  And I don’t really know how to say this without it coming out wrong but… having your name means I belong to you.  Not, like, in the old-timey ‘women are chattel’ sense, but in the sense of… I don’t know…”

“In the sense that you’re mine.”

“Yes! Exactly.  Just like you’re mine.”

“Yes, I am.  So.  Peter and Laura Stone.”

“Peter and Laura Stone.”

At first, Peter tried to hide his tears of happiness.  But Laura saw them and kissed them away, overjoyed that he understood the importance to her of taking his name, and that it was important to him, too. It was just one way that she could show him all that he meant to her.  She would show him that in every way she could, for the rest of her life.

[gunterfan1992]

Episode Review: ‘Come Along with Me’ (S10E13-16)

Airdate: September 3, 2018

Story by: Ashley Burch, Kent Osborne,  Adam Muto,  Jack Pendarvis, Julia Pott, Pendleton Ward & Steve Wolfhard

Storyboarded by: Tom Herpich, Steve Wolfhard, Seo Kim, Somvilay Xayaphone, Hanna K. Nyström, Aleks Sennwald, Sam Alden & Graham Falk

Directed by: Cole Sanchez & Diana Lafyatis (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

In August of 2012, I had just moved into a university dormitory to begin my second year as an undergraduate. On one of the last days of the month (the date escapes me), I was relaxing in the hall recreation room with my roommate. To my left sat another friend, watching something intently on his laptop.

 His focus was remarkable, and so I was intrigued. “What are you watching?” I asked.

 He glanced over and responded, “Adventure Time!”

 I’d heard of the show, and seen a few clips. At the time, I was taken aback by its combination of high brow and low brow sensibilities. But I saw how much joy it gave my friend, I put down my guard and decided to give it a watch.

 He tilted the screen towards my face, and what was I greeted to? Why a geometric space-god with a flaming blue sword attacking a green individual in a bright yellow jacket. Suddenly, a boy and his dog were in the picture. What was going on?

 As it turns out, I was watching season four’s “Sons of Mars”, one of the show’s wackiest episodes. In time, I was enthralled by the bright colors and the silly jokes. There was Abraham Lincoln. There was death. By the end of it, I was won over.

 I still think fondly of that day (as readers of this blog might be able to attest), for it was then that I was introduced to my favorite show, Adventure Time.

For years, it seemed like Adventure Time was just an omnipresent facet of popular culture. From t-shirts to Happy Meal toys, Finn and Jake were everyone, blending into what Marshall McLuhan would call the “beaten paths of impercience.” When we all learned that the show was ending in late 2016, it was sad, but because there were dozens of episodes left to air, this reality never really hit me.

But this week, it finally hit me. The end was nigh.

At 5 pm today, I sat nervously on my couch as the intro started, and we were off to the races.

The episode opens 1000 years after the lives of Finn and Jake. We are greeted to two new heroes: Shermy (voiced by Sean Giambrone) and Beth (voiced by Willows Smith). The two are heavily implied to be Finn and Jake reincarnated, and the latter is likely a descendant of Jake himself. After an encounter with the Prizeball Guardian (last seen in “Grabyles 1000+”), the two discover Finn’s robot-arm. They decide to journey to Mount Cragdor (where the Enchiridion was once kept) to find the all-knowing King of Ooo.

Once our new heroes make the journey and reach the top of the mountain, we the audience learn that the King of Ooo is not our favorite charlatan, but rather BMO. After Shermy and Beth present our little robot with Finn’s arm, BMO begins to tell the story of the “Great Gum War”:

1000 years prior (that is, during the show’s normal timeline), Princess Bubblegum and her Uncle Gumbald had each amassed armies to take one another down. Just before the battles are to commence, Finn devises a plan to stop any blood shed: He calls one last meeting between the Candy Kingdom and Gumbaldia, and then, using the magic, nightmare-inducing potion given to him by Nightmare Princesss in “Orb”, he knocks everyone into a subconscious world, where he hopes that they will make nice.

Everything goes a bit haywire, but in the end, Bubblegum and Gumbald realize that their is no real reason for them to fight one another: they each want different things, and are rightfully ticked off at one another, but through dialogue they can likely work things out. Finn and Fern, too, realize that they share the exact same fears that they have locked in their collective “Vault”. Putting aside their differences, they team up and kill the grass-curse spider that has held Fern a prisoner for so long.

At this point, our heroes (and villains) wake up and decide to make amends. Gumbald, however, is tripped by Aunt Lolly, and after being splashed with dum-dum juice, reverts back to Punchy. Lolly, however, vows to maintain the peace with the Candy Kingdom.

Just then, King Man crashes out of the sky and reveals that he, Betty, and an unconscious Maja donked up in a major way. He and Betty were trying to use magic to summon the primordial space demon/god Golb so as to undo the magic of the Ice King’s crown. However, their magic was too effective, and they accidentally summoned Golb to this plane of existence.

Golb begins to use his chaos magic, mutating candy kingdom and Gumbaldia citizens alike into grotesque monsters.  Ice King is summoned by King Man and told to try and stop Betty from completing her ritual, but in the commotion (which sees Maja literally explode) they, along with Finn, are accidentally swallowed by Golb, where they start to get digested.

Things start to go downhill fast. Golb’s monsters are extremely effectively, and decimate Bubblegum’s forces and those of her ragtag allies. As Bubblegum is standing on a rock, one of the Golb-monsters lunges at her and seemingly crushes her!

Marceline turns around and seeing the death of her past paramour, loses it. Unleashing both the beast and magic girl inside her, our favorite vampire turns into the Dark Cloud, last seen in Stakes and absolutely wails on the Golb-monster, tearing it to bits. She is absolutely furious that her best friend has been smooshed.

But luckily, it turns out that Bubblegum’s advanced battle armor had a handy shield, and she was saved from any danger. Marceline is overjoyed, and flies into the candy monarch’s armies, weeping tears of joy. The two hug.

And then comes the Bubbline kiss.

As Marceline and Bubblegum were holding each other close after the latter was very nearly squished, I knew it was now or never.

I was on the edge of my seat, as a tearful Marceline tells PB: “Even back when we weren’t talking, I was so afraid that something bad would happen to you and I wouldn’t be there to protect you and... I don’t want to lose you again!”

There’s some cute back and forth, and then the two quietly, effortlessly kiss.

The debate online as to whether or not the two were in a relationship has raged on- and offline since “What Was Missing” first aired years ago. As the two’s friendship evolved over the years, I came to believe that a romantic relationship was the next logical step for both the characters and the show itself to explore. Marceline and Bubblegum are unique in that they are two strong, intelligent, and emotionally complex female characters who often spend time exclusively with each other; the two ace the Bechdel test, a fairly rare occurrence in modern media.

It’s a bummer that the show waited until the very end of the series to canonize their relationship, but perhaps that makes it all the more rewarding? We have worked towards this culmination, and now we have a fully-acknowledged lesbian relationship between two major cartoon characters! How ground-breaking! Furthermore, regardless of when this canonization happened, the confirmation that Marceline and Bubblegum are “more than just friends” will inevitably help to undo some of the erasure that queer communities have faced since the dawn of media (if not time).

To sum up my feelings, let me just leave you with a (heavily) modified quote from Virginia Woolf:

“‘Marceline liked Bubblegum...’ Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admit in the privacy of our own society that these things sometimes happen. Sometimes half-demon vampires do like sentient pieces of Bubblegum.”

(Of course, I am curious as to what their future holds. We seem them together snuggling in the epilogue, but they are not around one thousand years in the future. This is, honestly, the biggest question that will bug me about the finale!)

Despite taking a literal pounding from Marceline, Golb’s evil creatures pull themselves back together and march towards the Tree Fort. Jake gives chase, but is not able to reach them in time: they smash Finn and Jake’s beloved home, and seriously injure poor BMO.

Jake is beside himself! His house is gone! But then, BMO comes over to him, and lovingly calms him down. BMO points out that Finn and Jake have long been a parent to the little robot, and now it is time for BMO to be the parent. And then, BMO begins to sing a tune “for his son Jake”, entitled “Time Adventure”.

"Time Adventure", written by storyboard artist extraordinaire Rebecca Sugar herself, encapsulates the best of the series: it's sad but uplifting. Melodic but rough-around-the-edges. It celebrates the wonders of life while also admitting that we can't really see all there is to it. Some people online criticized it for being too obvious (yes, the song’s title is just a flipping of the show's title), but in some way, I find that it's the most poetic and philosophical thing that its ever done.

When I was 11, I had my first real panic attack. I was out with my family when I was struck by a thought that has not left my head since: I'm going to die. Not that I can die, or that death might hurt. No. I am going. to. die; presumably, my consciousness will disconnect and I will not exist. I want to believe in an afterlife, but it’s an idea that seems oh so very hard to accept when faced with what we know about nature (but that’s a whole ‘nother discussion). These revelations horrified me, and it has taken years to really process what death actually means—and I’m still not there. None of us really are.

But as I’ve aged, I've been comforted by some rather Stoic ideas, like the idea that what will be will be and we should not stress about things that we simply cannot change. I also like the idea that we are all part of the cosmos, and while we will die, we don’t cease to exist: we just merge back into where we came from.

These musings are adjacent to another comforting idea: the fourth-dimensional view of time that BMO sings about:

Time is an illusion That helps things make sense So we're always living In the present tense ... Singing, will happen Happening happened [...] And will happen Again and again 'Cause you and I will always be back then

It’s true. Perhaps my “arrow-of-time consciousness” will be blasted into nothingness once I die, but I’m not ceasing to be. I eternally am. What happened is happening will happen. “Time is an illusion/That helps things make sense.” While this idea might not extinguish a fear of death, it’s a nice thought. And just like Adventure Time, when you combine enough nice thoughts, you often get something beautiful.

And beauty is all that was really needed for our heroes. It turns out that Golb is a creature of chaos, meaning that the only weapon that the citizens of Ooo can effectively use is concordance—harmony in music. It might seem a little silly that “beating the baddie with music” is how Golb’s minions are defeated, but considering the sort of magical role that music has played in the show, it’s not too much of the stretch. It also remains me of how the show used (and subverted) “defeating a baddie with heart” to great effect did in Stakes.

BMO (who hilariously declares, “My art is a weapon!”) is joined by Marceline and Bubblegum, and soon by Jake and the rest of the crew. Their combined harmonizing weakens Golb, allowing Finn and Simon to escape from his belly. However, Betty decides to remain behind. She realizes that the singing has also reset the ice crown’s phantasmal magic. Putting it on, she wishes for the power to ensure Simon’s safety, which entails her transforming (in a stunning sequence that IndieWire writer Eric Kohn refers to as “straight out of Don Hertzfeldt”) into Golb him(her?)self. Golb promptly leaves this reality, dropping the crown onto the ground. Gunter grabs it, and—despite Jake’s warnings that the naughty penguin will wish to become Orgalorg once again—Gunter merely wishes to turn into the Ice King (or, “Ice Thing”).

Finn and Jake return to the ruins of their tree fort, where they plant Fern’s seed. A new tree immediately sprouts from the ground, with the Finnsword embedded within it. Bubblegum arrives on the scene and thanks Finn for directly disobeying her. She gives him an appreciative kiss on the cheek and then muses that he is getting taller.

We cut back to Ooo 1000+, where BMO wraps up the story. Shermy and Beth still have questions (just like the audience!) about ‘Phil’ and Jake, and Marceline and Bubblegum. BMO shrugs these questions off, saying, “You know, they kept living their lives.”

Shermy and Beth set out to find the “Ferntree” to verify BMO’s story; they eventually realize that the large tree reaching up to the heavens near their stomping grounds is almost certainly it.

We cut back to Finn and Jake, who are sitting around the Music Hole from the episode of the same name. The hole tells our heroes that she has a new song for them, and she begins to sing “Come Along with Me” (which every Adventure Time fan knows is the show’s closing number).

While the Music Hole sings, we see Shermy and Beth climb to the top of the tree. We are also greeted to a montage of what happened to all our friends in Ooo:

Lumpy Space Princess is crowned a bonafide princess (or perhaps even a queen)

Ice Thing and Turtle Princess get married

TV becomes a private detection (just like his grandparents!)

Sweet Pea graduates from school and eventually becomes a super-huge hero, who carries Finn's Nightosphere-sword

Aunt Lolly and Bubblegum seemingly make up and learn to love each other as family members

Lemongrab gets one of Jermaine’s paintings to hang above his bed, which brings him peace

BMO blasts Moe's harddrive into space with the help of Banana Man

Flame Princess and NETPR get popular and perform at Hamburger Hills Cemetery to a huge crowd

Magic Man is the happy King of Mars

Simon spends quality time with Marceline and Bubblegum, and seems to try and summon Betty back using Prismo’s wish magic (sadly, it doesn’t work)

Marceline and Bubblegum, meanwhile, are shown snuggling on the couch in the former’s house; it is implied that they are raising Peppermint Butler, who once again is showing an interest in the dark arts

Humans return to Ooo, and Finn is likely reunited with his (digital mother)

We also see what the Jiggler, Tiffany, the Crabbit, Susan Strong/Kara and Freida, the Candy Kingdom citizens, Tree Trunks and Lemonhope are up to

The episode ends with Shermy and Beth finding the Finnsword in the Ferntree. After Beth pulls the sword from the (metaphorical) stone, Shermy holds it up, just like the show’s title card.

So now let’s talk about what worked and what didn’t. The last half of the finale, if I do say so, was wonderful. Nothing to complain about here: we got arc resolutions, emotionally touching moments, and a nice sense of closure. In regards to this latter point, I specifically like how the show gave use an ending but emphasized that this finale was not really the full-stop end of the characters that we know and love—it was just the end of the story that we’re privy to. As BMO says, everyone kept living their lives and the world kept on spinning. That’s a very nice way to end a show like this, and it feeds into the existential ideals of Adventure Time: there is no grand, overarching story that has to have some big punctuation at the end. Finn and Jake are heroes, but long after they’re gone, the world will still be here, and there will be other great heroes to take their place.

With all this said, I must admit that the finale’s first half is something of a missed opportunity. Opening with Shermy and Beth was a totally inspired move (and the new intro is gorgeously animated, courtesy of Science SARU Studios), but I believe the show lingered on their introduction for just a little too long. Likewise, the weird trippy nightmare portion of the finale was about 15 minutes too long. We did not really need 1/4 of the episode to be devoted to wacky dream imagery that both “King Worm” and “Orb” did more effectively. And given that the show chose to linger on these sections—sections that, in the grand scheme of things, are not super essential—the final portions of the episode came across as a bit rushed. The storylines are all satisfying, but it would’ve been nice if we had gotten a little bit more focus on Betty, Simon, and Finn, or Simon and Marceline, rather than Bubblegum and Gumbald’s wacky nightmares.

And speaking of Gumbald, his ending was a total cop-out. I’m not too torn up about this, given that he was never the main baddie in this episode (that was Golb), but his deciding to make peace and then accidentally reverting to Punchy was contrived and anticlimactic. To go back to a criticism I had of “Gumbaldia”, if the show had been given just a little more time to flesh his character and motivations out, I think his role in the finale would’ve been much better served.

But like I said, I wasn’t too torn up about this, because the main focus of this episode was on Golb and the horrors that such a being could unleash upon Ooo. And the show did this wonderfully. Indeed, it was quite exciting that the show finally had a villain that Finn couldn’t just punch a lot until it died (remember, he beat the Lich this way). Golb was, arguably, invincible. It was only the extremely broken magic of the ice crown could do anything.

Speaking of satisfying, “Come Along With Me” also gives Fern an excellent conclusion. The poor grass-doppelgänger was never evil, just confused. By finally coming to terms with his existential crisis of a life, he and Finn were able to patch things up. Sadly, this came at the expense of his dying (the scene in which Finn and Fern kill the grass-curse spider was quite fun). But even in death, there is life, and Fern’s demise allows a new tree to replace the old tree fort. How sweet is that?

Finn coming to terms with his disability was also a nice touch. As I mentioned in my review of Islands, Adventure Time seems to have a somewhat pessimistic view of technology. With this episode, Finn loses his robot arm once and for all, and instead of having PB build him a new one or dabbling in arm-magicks, he decides to let it all be. This is a very important lesson for the show to emphasize. Finn is still Finn with or without his arm. By constantly trying to ‘fix’ himself, Finn was trying to fill a hole that didn’t need to be filled. After experiencing all this Golb biz, it seems that Finn has come to terms with his essence and who he is as a person. And arm or no arm, he is still Finn.

But as satisfying as I found the episode to be overall, I still have some lingering questions! What happened to the Candy Kingdom that resulted in it getting totally razed in the future? Why was the Prizeball Guardian built? What happened to Marceline and Bubblegum, given that they, in their own ways, can evade death in various ways? These of course are questions that will likely never be answered, and they certainly can be filled in in the minds of fans, but these quandaries are probably going to bother me for awhile! (Heck, I just want to know what Marceline and Bubblegum’s future looks like: I don’t really care too much about that other jazz!)

As I write this, I’m both happy and heartbroken: I’m happy because my favorite show of all time has just aired perhaps the most satisfying finale that I have ever seen. I’m heartbroken because the story is now over.

But hold on.

Like BMO and Co. sing in “Time Adventure”, just because the story is over from my point of view does not mean it has slipped away into the ether of oblivion.

It’s comforting to think that in the fourth-dimensional view of existence, I still am in that rec room with my friends, watching “Sons of Mars” for the first time. In a way, I’m eternally laughing and smiling at the jokes. I’m eternally still realizing what a wonderful program Adventure Time really is.

And in that way, it’s true what they say: the fun will never end.

Final Grade:

Season Grade: Were this a standard season, I would probably have been a little harder on it. The Gum War, having been developed two or so episodes, really came out of nowhere and needed more time to be properly developed. It also seems a little odd that the series finale is at least partially focused on an antagonist who was only introduced this season. But these issues were not the fault of the production staff; they were problems with the show being cancelled by the network and the staff having to tidy-up everything before it was all over. Muto et al. honestly did the best they can with the hands they were dealt. And make no mistake, the result is pretty good, even if things are rushed. Yes, there is a lot to love about season 10. It’s got humor and heart, action and adventure, and plenty of romance! It’s not my favorite season by any means (that’s a tie between season 4 and 7), but its episodes are definitely in the upper-tier of the series, as far as quality goes.

Series Grade: Do I even need to say this?

[urwarriorangel]

<3 urwarriorangel’s writing challenge <3

hello my darling angels! i have started a writing challenge because i want to read more of what you write. i’m calling this a challenge because that’s what i’ve read others call it? rules are listed below! all submissions will be read by yours truly and (if they follow the p basic rules) i will post them all on a masterlist! i will reblog them and give you feedback because that’s what should happen regardless and also i love you guys! (gif not mine!)

rules

*no rape/incest/underage sex/etc.

*if you choose to write smut, you must be 18+!!! the characters you’re writing for must be 18+!!

*must be character x reader! you can write for multiple characters, but it still must be a reader insert!

*it’s first come first serve for characters, meaning there are character limits. multiple people can write for the same character, but they are capped. so please message me as soon as you see a character you want to write for!

*only one prompt per fic! (bonus points if you use any of my original prompts lol!) (also prompts can only be used once)

*triggers must be tagged. if there are any triggers in your fic, you must have a trigger warning. i cannot emphasize this enough.

*fic should be at least 500 words, if it’s longer (which please make it as long as you’d like!) you have to add a ‘read more’

*must tag me in the fic and use # urwarriorangelwritingchallenge <3

*fic should be a new original, not an old piece being resubmitted or a part of an already existing series. (you can write a series for this challenge if you’d like!)

*bonus points if you’re a poc!writer with a poc!reader <3 <3 <3

*you must respect the sexuality of the character! if you would like for an lgbtq+ character, their sexuality should not change in the fic. thank you!

*please send me a message with the character(s) you’d like to write for and the prompt!

example: damon salvatore + “i don’t know how much longer i can go on”

~the masterlist will be posted on august 13th! (if this goes well aka if people participate i would love to do this more often!)~

categories allowed:

anything your heart desires. if you’re going to write fluff please keep it compelling! add a few different styles together! give me some angst, some smut. make it a mystery! i mean absolutely no disrespect to those who write/read only fluff, but personally i find fluff a little more fun when it’s got multiple components! (if you write only fluff, please go ahead and write fluff! i will read it and i’m sure i’ll love it! these are just my personal preferences!)

i love aus very much, so please don’t shy away from them!

characters & prompts under the cut!

characters (five slots for each character)

agents of shield

al mackenzie antoine “trip” triplett daisy “skye” johnson grant ward jemma simmons lance hunter leopold fitz lincoln campbell

brooklyn 99

amy santiago charles boyle gina linetti jake peralta raymond holt rosa diaz terrence jeffords

buffy the vampire slayer

angel buffy summers cordelia chase rupert giles william the bloody aka spike

criminal minds

aaron hotchner david rossi derek morgan elle greenaway emily prentiss jennifer jareau luke alvez penelope garcia spencer reid

defenders-ish

billy russo frank castle jessica jones luke cage matt murdock

friends

chandler bing joey tribbiani monica geller phoebe buffay rachel green ross geller

game of thrones

arya stark benjen stark daenerys targaryen eddard stark jaime lannister jon snow khal drogo robb stark samwell tarly sansa stark tyrion lannister

gossip girl

blair waldorf carter baizen chuck bass dan humphrey nate archibald serena van der woodsen vanessa abrams

harry potter

draco malfoy fred weasley george weasley harry potter hermione granger remus lupin ronald weasley sirius black (young) tom riddle

hawaii five-0

adam noshimuri chin ho kelly daniel williams kono kalakaua michael noshimuri steve mcgarrett

jane the virgin

adam alvaro jane gloriana villanueva petra solano rafael solano

lucky number slevin

slevin kelevra

mcu

bruce banner aka hulk brunnhilde aka my valkyrie queen bucky barnes aka winter soldier clint barton aka hawkeye drax aka the destroyer erik stevens aka killmonger gamora aka um need we say more? janet van dyne aka wasp loki aka loki m’baku aka you already know mantis aka mantis aka a fucking cutie may parker aka ailf nakia aka loml okoye aka incredible badass peggy carter aka kickass peter parker aka spider-man peter quill aka star-lord pietro maximoff aka quicksilver sam wilson aka falcon scott lang aka antman shuri aka an angel stephen strange aka dr. strange steve rogers aka captain america t’challa aka black panther thor aka thor tony stark aka iron-man wanda maximoff aka scarlet witch

new girl

coach nick miller

pretty little liars

aria montgomery caleb rivers emily fields ezra fitz hanna marin jason dilaurentis mona vanderwaal noel kahn spencer hastings wren kingston

reign

francis mary stuart nostradamus sebastian

riverdale

archie andrews betty cooper cheryl blossom fangs fogarty fp jones fred andrews jason blossom josie mccoy jughead jones kevin keller malachai charles!reggie mantle ross!reggie mantle sweet pea toni topaz valerie brown veronica lodge

shadowhunters

alec lightwood clary fray isabelle lightwood jace herondale lucian grey magnus bane simon lewis

teen wolf

allison argent chris argent cora hale derek hale isaac lahey jackson whittermore jordan parrish kira yukimura liam dunbar lydia martin malia tate peter hale scott mccall stiles stilinski theo raeken

the 100

bellamy blake clarke griffin echo finn collins jasper jordan john murphy king roan lexa lincoln monty green nathan miller octavia blake ontari raven reyes wells jaha

the originals

davina claire elijah mikaelson freya mikaelson hayley marshall kol mikaelson lucian castle niklaus mikaelson marcel gerard rebekah mikaelson

the vampire diaries

bonnie bennett caroline forbes damon salvatore elena gilbert jeremy gilbert katherine pierce malachi parker mary louise matt donovan nora hildegard olivia parker tyler lockwood stefan salvatore sybil

x-men

alex summers aka havok charles xavier aka young!professor x erik lehnsherr aka magneto hank mccoy aka beast jean grey aka phoenix logan aka wolverine peter maximoff aka quiksilver ororo monroe aka storm raven darkholme aka mystique

prompts (once someone requests a prompt, i will update the list! list will be updated once a day, if multiple people ask for a prompt in between updates, i will give it to the first person who sent me an ask. i realize that there are more character options than there are prompts, i did this because i don’t think too many people will participate. if we ever run out, i will add more prompts! example of request: klaus mikaelson + “give me a chance”)

(rfaimagining)

angst

1: “ give me a chance. ”

2: “ not you again.. ”

3: “ leave me alone. ”

4: “ i don’t love you anymore. ”

5: “ why do you hate me? ”

6: “ i lost the baby. ”

7: “ i thought you loved me. ”

8: “ i don’t need you anymore. ”

9:“ i can’t believe you! ”

10: “ we can't keep this up forever. ”

11: “ you’re a monster. ”

12: “ i hate you. ”

13: “ don’t leave me… ”

14: “ you’re a disappointment. ”

15: “ don’t die on me– please. ”

16: “ i never meant to hurt you. ”

17: “ are you upset with me? ”

18: “ i wish i’d never met you. ”

19: “ i’m going to kill you! ”

20: “ please don’t hurt me like this. ”

21: “ thanks for nothing. ”

22: “ dont call this number again. “

23: “ why did you spare me? ”

24: “ you need to leave. ”

25: “ i’m sick. ”

26: “ i’m dying. ”

27: “ i wish i’d never met you. ”

28: “ i thought we were family!”

29: “ there was never an us. ”

30: “ so that’s it? it’s over? ”

31: “ i fucked up. ”

32: “ i came to say goodbye. ”

33:“ he’s dead because of you. ”

34: “ i don’t deserve to be loved. ”

35: “ about the baby… its yours. ”

love

36: “ i’m so in love with you. ”

37: “ dance with me! ”

38: “ isn’t this amazing? ”

39: “ i wish we could stay like this forever. ”

40: “ will you marry me? ”

41: “ i’m pregnant. ”

42: “ i need a hug. ”

43: “ you’re special to me. ”

44: “ i’m going to keep you safe. ”

45: “ do you trust me? ”

46: “ can i kiss you right now? ”

47: “ you’re cute when you’re angry. ”

48: “ i’ve liked you for awhile now. ”

49: “ let’s have a baby. ”

50: “ we’d make such a cute couple. ”

51: “ i want to take care of you. ”

52: “ can we cuddle? ”

53: “ it’s lonely here without you. ”

54: “ i can’t stand the thought of losing you. ”

55: “ shut up and kiss me already. ”

56: “ are you flirting with me? ”

57: “ is that my shirt? ”

58: “ how did we get here? ”

59: “ you own my heart. ”

60: “ you’d be a great dad. ”

61: “ you’d be a great mom. ”

62: “ i want to protect you. ”

63: “ what's the matter? ”

64: “ you’re so beautiful. ”

65: “ did you do something different with your hair? ”

66: “ is that a new perfume? ”

67: “ stop being so cute. ”

68: “ you’re making me blush! ”

69: “ you’re teasing me again… ”

70: “ this is why i fell in love with you. ”

71: “ you’re the best! ”

72: “ they’re going to love you, don’t worry! ”

73: “ oh, are you ticklish? ”

74: “ of course i remembered! ”

75: “ you’re one hell of a girl. ”

76: “ you’re one hell of a guy. ”

77: “ are you jealous? ”

78: “ hold me and never let me go. ”

79: “ stop hogging all the blankets! ”

80: “ lets run away together. ”

misc

90: “ catch me if you can! ”

91: “ i’m fine. ”

92: “ are you drunk? ”

93: “ are you high? ”

94: “ we can't go in there… ”

95: “ give it back! ”

96: “ well this is just great. ”

97: “ don’t touch me. ”

98: “ not sure if you could tell, but i’m not exactly a people person. ”

99: “ this was fun— let's do it again sometime!”

100: “ i didn’t do it! ”

101: “ i did it… ”

102: “ i don’t remember that! ”

103: “ well that’s pretty rude of you to say. ”

104: “ get that thing away from me! ”

105: “ you owe me. ”

106: “ do you believe in aliens? ”

107: “ do you believe in ghosts? ”

108: “ are you hitting on me? ”

109: “ why are you naked? ”

110: “ you did what?! ”

111: “ you have… superpowers? ”

112: “ why are you bleeding? ”

113: “ where did all these puppies come from?”

114: “ don’t make me come over there myself! ”

115: “ that wasn’t funny. ”

116: “ this tastes horrible. ”

117: “ this is delicious! ”

118: “ are you mad at me? ”

119: “ stop ignoring me… ”

120: “ i love that show too! ”

121: “ can i borrow that book of yours?”

122: “ let's blow this joint. ”

123: “ let me help you with that. ”

124: “ take that back! ”

125: “ wanna go see a movie with me? ”

126: “ no way, that’s so lame. ”

127: “ what are you listening to? ”

128: “ i brought you your coffee. ”

129: “ don’t fuck this up. ”

130: “ run! ”

131: “ lets run away together. ”

132: “ i haven’t slept in four days… ”

133: “ your turn to do the dishes. ”

134: “ was i really that drunk? ”

135: “ was i really that stoned? ”

136: “give me back my phone! ”

137: “ you’re an asshole. ”

138: “ are you cold? ”

139: “ this place gives me the creeps. ”

140: “ i swear my house is haunted. ”

141: “ did you hear that? ”

142: “ it’s just your imagination. ”

143: “ just how stupid do you think i am? ”

144: “ stop being such a baby. ”

145: “ go back to bed. ”

146: “ are you okay? ”

147: “ i can take care of myself just fine.”

148: “ thanks for helping me back there. ”

149: “ since when have we ever been friends? ”

150: “ what on earth are you wearing? ”

151: “ i can’t feel my legs! ”

152: “ stop texting me weird stuff so late at night. ”

153: “ put me down! ”

154: “ there’s only one bed… ”

155: “ it isn’t what it looks like! okay.. maybe it is… ”

156: “ how did i lose it? ”

157: “ i read your diary. ”

158: “ this is awkward. ”

159: “ didn’t you read the sign? ”

160: “ do you think you can teach me that? ”

nsfw

161: “ bite me. ”

162: “ make me. ”

163: “ fuck me. ”

164: “ stop teasing me so much… ”

165: “ do you like it when i touch you like that?”

166: “ okay.. this is new. ”

167: “ want to head back to my place and have a little fun? ”

168: “ you’re in trouble now. ”

169: “ what a pretty sight. ”

170: “ bend over. ”

171: “ on your knees. ”

172: “ the food looks great but.. there’s something much more delicious i’d like to eat right now. ”

173: “ lay back. ”

174: “ take off your clothes. ”

175: “ well, fine; just this once. ”

176: “ i’m waiting. ”

177: “ you’re so beautiful. ”

178:“ as you wish. ”

179: “ first one to make a noise loses.”

180: “ you have no idea what you do to me. ”

181: “ if you’re bored; wanna have sex? ”

182: “ i've wanted this for so long. ”

183: “ car sex looks so much more easier in the movies. ”

184: “ can i touch you? ”

185: “ open up. ”

186: “ no strings attached. ”

187: “ already? do i really have that much of an effect on you? ”

188: “ mine. ”

189: “ the nights still young. ”

190: “ we can't do that here! ”

191: “ behave. ”

192:“ what did you just say? ”

193: “ good girl. ”

194: “ good boy. ”

195: “ come here. ”

continued nsfw from misc sources

196: “are you going to come here, or are you going to make me come get you myself?”

197: “don’t look at me like that, you brought this on yourself.”

198: “stay still, squirming will make it worse.”

199: “keep count. if you lose it, we’re starting over. understand?”

200: “go get me the cane.”

201: “take your shirt off and put your hands up against the wall.”

202: “open your mouth. i’m putting the gag in so your screaming won’t alarm someone.”

203: “did you disobey my orders?”

204: “i thought i told you not to touch that?”

205: “have you finished everything i told you to do?”

206: “if you don’t stop acting like this, i’ll be forced to use different tactics.”

207: “your skin turns so red under my palm.”

208: “bend over the back of the couch.”

209: “you might want to bite something, the whip has a bite to it.”

210: “come here and bend over my lap.”

211: “i’m tired of your smart mouth.”

212: “you’re really hot.”

213: “oh, don’t mind me. just enjoying the view.”

214: “you know, those/that ______ of yours are/is pretty distracting.”

215: “hot damn.”

216: “so, you come here often?”

217: “well, well. my night just got better.”

218: “is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

219: “you have got a great ass.”

220: “hey, i’m open minded.”

221: “you enjoying the view over there?”

222: “keep sweet-talking and this could go a whole new direction.”

223: “don’t be bashful. you know you want to.”

224: “you can have me any way you’d like, baby.”

225: “you wanna move this conversation someplace more private?”

226: “i’m off in a few minutes, you know.”

227:“it’s been a long day. why don’t we help each other unwind?”

228: “i think it’s about time we stop avoiding the obvious.”

229: “i’m gonna be honest with you. i’m really horny, and you’re really hot. can we fuck? like, now?”

230: “i wanna see you get naked.”

231: “you like how i bend over for you, huh?”

232: “you’re getting me all worked up.”

233: “what do we have here?”

234: "i see someone’s happy to see me.”

235: “play your cards right, and i just might have to put you on speed dial.”

236: “you like that, don’t you?”

237: “how do you want me?”

238: “i’m sure we can put those lips to better use.”

239: “i want you. right here. right now.”

240: “god, you’re perfect.”

241: “i really like a man who’s good with his hands.”

242: “i’d be more than happy to show you a good time, if you’re looking for one.”

243: “i saw that. you just checked me out.”

244: “you look real good in that suit/dress/skirt/outfit.”

245: “you wanna help me out of this ___?” (insert article clothing here.)

246: “can i keep you?”

247: “you’re such a tease.”

248: “oh my, looks like i/you dropped something.”

249: “i love it when you talk dirty.”

250: “i can’t stop thinking about your hands on me.”

251: “i think you’ll be happy to know that i’m not wearing any underwear.”

252: “i really want to take you home and get you out of all those clothes.”

253: “it’s like you want to ruin men/women for me.”

[mjau29]

We’ll Wait (Tyler Seguin)

Requested: yes | no

Request:  Could you do imagine where you tell Tyler you don’t want to have sex till you’re married and you’re scared for his reaction?

A/N: Previously posted on my main blog tyzerman91

Word Count: 1208

Warnings: None

It started with a simple follow. You posted an Instagram photo of a rubber duck. You captioned it “What exactly is the fiction of a rubber duck? Tyler Seguin knows.”

It was probably the nerdiest thing you have ever posted. It went viral. The next morning, not only had Jamie Benn liked the photo but so did Tyler. Tyler also followed you.

jamiebenn14: (Y/N) know’s whats up @tseguin92 tseguin92: o.o how’d she find out

Tyler liked photos back to the start of your account. Over three years worth. Then he followed you on twitter. Then snapchat.

The hockey fan in you went crazy. It wasn’t Steve Yzerman, but still. Not that he had any type of social media. The rational part of you was wary. You knew the stories. You’ve seen the photos. You wanted to believe, more than anything, that he wasn’t the fuck boy he appeared to be. But even rumors have some truth.

For months, you avoided meeting him. He offered tickets to home games and when you politely refused, he asked if you wanted to catch a football game or baseball game. You told him no, you weren’t a fan. But thank you anyway.

Then he took to twitter. Because he just wouldn’t give up.

@.tseguinoffical: Tell @(Y/N) to say yes. @.tseguinoffical: Is it bad to use Cash, Marshall, and Gerry to get @(Y/N) to agree to a date? #askingforafriend

@.jamiebenn14: @.tseguinofficial Is that friend you? @.tseguinofficial: @.jamiebenn14 So what if it is?

Your twitter feed blew up overnight. You had hundreds of mentions telling you to say yes. One girl even said, say yes even if it’s just for the dogs. She wasn’t wrong. His dogs were adorable and you would love to meet them. But you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that he wanted one thing and then you would be old news…and even more so, the one thing he wanted you wouldn’t give. Not until you were married anyway.

@(Y/N): @.tseguinofficial if I say yes will you call off your army? @.tseguinofficial: @ (Y/N) Maybe…are you saying yes? @(Y/N): @.tseguinofficial can I still meet the puppers? @.tseguinofficial: @(Y/N) Yes? @(Y/N): @.tseguinofficial …then yes.

That was how you agreed to meet Tyler face to face for the first time. You told him nothing extreme. Just coffee.

Just coffee turned into coffee once a week.

Coffee once a week turned into dinner once a week, when he was in town.

Soon dinner once a week turned into dinner a couple times a week, coffee before practice and movies nights.

You weren’t dating, but you did go on dates. And Tyler was adamant that they were coffee dates, dinner dates, and movie night dates. In fact, the one time you referred to movie night as your weekly hang out with him, he got very upset.

“No (Y/N), we’re aren’t ‘hanging out’, it’s a date. If I wanted to hang out and watch a movie, I’d ask Jamie.” He was mad. Clearly. But his eyes, they didn’t show anger, they showed hurt. “It’s a date then.” You quickly agreed. You never wanted to see that look in his eyes again.  So your hang outs became dates.

You knew you should have been honest from the beginning. But in the beginning, you thought you were just hanging out. He clearly thought differently. You didn’t want to hurt him. You cared about him too much. So, you did the only thing you could. You told him you needed to talk. You would tell him tonight.

To Ty: Hey, I have something I need to tell you. Can you stop by my place tonight? From Ty: Sure…everything OK? To Ty: Everything great.

The coffee dates would stop. The dinner dates would stop. The movie dates would stop.

Your heart would break. But he wouldn’t be strung along.

You were a nervous wreck all day. You dusted your entire apartment. Then you reorganized your kitchen. Everything was in alphabetical order by the time you finished. Then you organized your closet. Nice clothes, work clothes, workout clothes, then your casual clothes.

You were visibly shaking by the time Tyler made it to your apartment.

“(Y/N), you’re shaking. Are you sure your OK? Did something happen?” Tyler comes in and lets his bag drop to the floor. He pulls you into a hug. “Did someone do something?” “No. No, no one did anything to me. I’m OK really. Just, uh I have something I really have to tell you. And I’m not sure how you’re going to react.” You stutter out. “So, I’m a nervous wreck. I cleaned the entire apartment, organized the kitchen and my closet.”

“Are you moving away? Did you do something bad?” Tyler jokes trying to lighten the mood. “Because the only thing I can think of that would make you organize your closet, is well if you killed a man and wanted an alibi.” “I like you a lot.” You start. “That’s good because I like you a lot too,” Tyler says leading you to the sofa. “But I don’t know why that would make you a nervous wreck.” “Let me finish.” You say taking a breath. “I like you a lot and that’s why I can’t keep doing this. We’re different people.”

“I don’t see how that’s a problem? We’ve made it work this far.” Tyler says confused. “Look. I’m not having sex until I’m married.” You blurt out. You immediate cover your mouth. “That’s not how I wanted to tell you.”

“That’s what caused this?” Tyler asks with a smile. His eye sparkling. “(Y/N), that doesn’t change anything.” “What?” You all but scream. “What we have, it’s more than anything I’ve ever had.” He says. “And if you want to wait, then we’ll wait.”

You nod. Your worry fading away. Suddenly it all seemed so silly. You were so worried about his reaction and…wait a second.

“What do you mean we’ll wait?” You ask, his words finally setting in. “Well, you’re waiting until marriage. So we’ll wait.” Tyler says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I figure we have about two years until we’re married. So I’m not really waiting all that long.” “Who says we’re getting married?” You ask. “Me. I do.” Tyler grins.

“You’re pretty sure of yourself.” You say with a raised eyebrow. “I am. Because I love you.” He says. “I have patience. I wore you down to agree to a date. I can do the same again.” “You might want to work on getting a girlfriend. Because last I heard you needed that in order to propose.” Now you’re just teasing him “I have one. You.” “I don’t remember agreeing to that.” You say pretending to think.

“Yeah, it was about ten minutes ago. It was super romantic. Candles, flowers, the whole nine. You said yes. Now you’re mine.” Tyler says wrapping his arms around you. “Forever, just as soon as I can get you to agree to marry me.”

“Oh really now?” You say laughing. All previous worry is gone. “Yes, really.” Tyler places a kiss on your nose. “I’ll ask every day until you say yes. Starting now.”

[lucifel-lurks]

Temptation’s End Pt 3 (end)

Kylux, humor,  this part PWP, ~1300 words, sort of Dub-Con because Hux consents enthusiastically but he doesn’t realize he’s consenting to more than just tab A in slot B until it happens. First Part Here (And now: porn.)

~

Hux wants to ask “What Plan?” but Kylo strips away Hux’s towel so he can settle his atrociously large hands onto Hux’s ass. He’s still using the force to pin Hux down but between the heavy press of his body and the savage nips he’s laying across Hux’s jaw Hux honestly doesn’t notice. Hux is too busy wondering how Ren managed to get even this wrong. Hara is right outside and exactly Ren’s type.

Working his way down Hux’s chest, Ren gets his mouth around a dusty pink nipple and tugs on it like a feral beast with a new toy. Pausing, for some reason, to make eye contact with Hux halfway between letting go and moving to give Hux’s other nipple the same treatment.

 Hux doesn’t know what to do. The logical part of his brain is focused on Kylo’s accusations of assassination and what that means for Hux’s continued survival. The General wants to discuss what appear to be a major security leak and several stowaways on his ship. The rest of him is trying to remind that he hasn’t gotten dicked in almost two years and Ren - with his big hands and his muscular body and his hopefully proportionate dick - is right here and apparently offering. Ren is also, Hux realizes when the force hold on his throat eases minutely and the hands clutching his ass relax from a tight grab down to a firm grasp, waiting for permission. Ren’s eyes, Hux realizes are terribly vulnerable in this moment and when he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, Hux finds that the decision has been made for him.

 Not wanting to speak, Hux does the only thing he can think of: he uses his feet to pull Kylo’s towel off his body and his hands (which he suddenly realize have been free this whole time) to grab Kylo’s hair and tug the supreme leader down into a kiss.

 To his surprise, Kylo breaks into a smug grins and mutters a “Finally!” Before diving in for all he’s worth. His hands resume their kneading of Hux’s ass. (Now accompanied by what feels like an indeed very proportionate cock sliding against his stomach alongside his own.)

 “I thought” Kylo pants between kisses, “that you were going”, and here he lifts Hux up a bit so the man can grind his erection against Kylo’s stomach, “to pull a Mitaka,” Hux groaned at the friction, “and make me wait forever like poor Jobbson.”

 “Poor Jobbson.” Hux agrees.

 Kylo plasters himself against Hux, rubbing as much of his skin against his General as he can. He slobbers against Hux’s mouth like a dog. It should be revolting, but it really, really isn’t.

 In the heat of the sauna, they’ve both begun to sweat profusely, the moisture easing the slide of their cock between them. Hux is embarrassed to admit to himself that he’s about to come just from this. When he whimpers, helplessly, with a small kittenish sound that he will forever deny, Kylo seems to realize this too.

 “No!” He practically orders, “Not yet!” Pulling away and sitting up, Kylo holds Hux in place by his ass and - in what feels like it must be a complicated maneuver - slides away until he’s kneeling on the floor between Hux’s legs. “You,” he says darkly, “are not getting off that easily”.

 Hux barely has a second to wonder what he means before Kylo’s mouth is around him and swallowing him down. Hux swears up a blue streak and is only prevented from coming by some kind of… force hold squeezing too tightly at the root of his dick. For an anti-social former-monk with no charm and few people skills, Kylo Ren is a remarkably talented slut.

 He is also, apparently, capable of prying Hux’s long neglected hole open with the force. (Because his hands seem to be stuck against the globes of Hux’s ass.) It’s a strange feeling, not like being opened by someone’s hands at all. It’s the sense of a dozen little tendrils massaging each individual fold of skin until the muscle underneath relaxes. There’s no friction, no burn, just gentle, gentle, easing. And a soft tease against his prostate. Hux isn’t sure if he’s going to melt into the bench or tense up into a scream but after too many minutes of this treatment he’s writhing too hard to think and far too hard to speak. And all the while, Kylo just sucks and sucks and watches him move, eyes tracing individual drops of sweat.

 Hux needs to come before he looses his mind.

 “Please.” He begs, “Please. Ren. Please. Just. I. Please. Anything.” But Ren doesn’t let up, doesn’t change what he’s doing until Hux’s begging has devolved from words down to gibberish. Only then does he let go Hux’s dick and stand up. (Hux is too far gone to notice that Ren is slightly wobbly by this point.)

 Hux isn’t entirely certain what’s happening, can’t track what’s going on, just feels Ren settle over him once again, pressing him down down down into the bench. And then – and then Ren is pressing in with no lube and no anything and he’s just pounding into Hux so very hard and fast and that tendril of force that’s been rubbing against his prostate this entire time is rubbing even harder and he’s licking back into Hux’s mouth and it’s all just too, too much. Too much pleasure, too much friction, too much unrelenting physicality. When Hux comes, he whites out for long enough that he misses the Supreme Leader’s own orgasm.  

 It is through force of will alone that Hux doesn’t pass out. Every nerve is on fire, every inch of skin is too sensitive. And Kylo, who has finally let go of Hux’s ass, seems intent on caressing every inch of skin he can reach. Every touch sets Hux to shivering.

 He still isn’t able to think.

 “That,” Ren finally says when he can pull his mouth away from Hux’s collarbone for long enough, “was not a sufficient apology.”

 Hux has no idea what he’s talking about.

 “If you expect me to forgive you your treason.” He continues, lapping up Hux’s neck towards his ear, “You’re going to have to do more than just lie there.”

 Hux manages a half inquiring noise this time.

 A dry, un-amused laugh rumbles up through Kylo’s chest.  

 “Surely you didn’t expect one fuck to wipe your slate clean?”

 And suddenly Hux realizes what’s going on. His enemy – whoever he or she is – is about to win. He’s about to die. Hux’s sense of survival forces him to marshal together enough of his brain cells to form words. “Supreme Leader,” he gasps, “those women. We - .” but he isn’t allowed to finish his sentence. Kylo seizes Hux’s tounge between his teeth and grinds down on Hux’s over sensitive cock before Hux can speak. The feel of it – combined with the searing too-much-feeling that is every place Kylo is touching him, is such a confusing chimera of pleasure and pain that Hux wonders if he’ll even feel his death coming. He supposes there are worse ways to die and Kylo keeps at it until Hux is moaning again.

 “Don’t worry,” Ren murmers in his ear when he’s finally kissed Hux’s mouth sore and swollen, “you’ll have plenty of time to learn.”

 That beta shift, Hux doesn’t make his mi- cycle meetings.

 That gamma shift, Hux begins his exhausting daily routine of getting fucked within an inch of his life before being allowed to sleep.

 He still doesn’t know who his invisible enemy is.

 He also can’t decide which of them’s won.

~ Fini

EDIT: Ok I lied there’s more porn HERE ... but you should stop here if you were mostly in this for the humor.

(When I’m done with kbb and noir fics, I may come back and develop this into the longfic it was originally concieved as. Believe it or not, the original idea behind this was sort of a slow burn political drama... ooopps.)