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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

1979

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (Read part 2 HERE)

Rating: T (Teen) - part 2 will be E

Summary: The year is 1979. You need a ride to anywhere that’s far away from where you are. When a handsome stranger in a rustbucket pickup gives you that ride, neither of you could predict any of the events that follow.

Warnings: Smoking (and lots of it), mild violence (a punch is thrown), brief harassment of reader, food, mention of a gun (one is encountered but not used), mention of homelessness, brief mention/description of war (Vietnam), child abandonment, mention of abusive/dangerous father figure, passing mention of serial killers, vague description of non-specific events leading up to reader resorting to hitchhiking, very meta mention of a certain beloved space opera

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: Whew! This one has been in the shop for a LONG while. Originally I meant for this to be a single work, but I’ve hit a bit of a slump with the last bit. I decided to post this to see how y’all feel about it! The second part will be much longer :) Also: I know there has been some discourse recently about Din’s characterization in certain fics, so I hope this does him justice for you! I’m always open to comments, and like I said I’m very interested in hearing what you think! As per usual, no use of Y/N and please heed the tags/warnings.

8:47

You lean against the streetlight, glancing down at your watch and then back up to the motel across the street. You told yourself you'd wait until 8:30 and then you'd go back and reserve a room for another night. As you watch the second hand wind its way around the small, plain face of your 2-dollar timepiece, you've convinced yourself that maybe staying out until 9 is the ticket.

Your ticket, out of this shithole town.

The summer air is hot and thick around you. It's especially unbearable both between your legs and at the band of your bra, the elastic stretched around your middle doing its best to make you feel as sweaty and uncomfortable as possible. At least you're wearing your cutoffs, giving your legs the chance to breathe. You've also got a loose tank on, which flutters in the sticky wind as cars pass you by.

8:51

Your thumb has been stuck out for passerby to see for the past three days. No one has picked you up. You suppose you should be more wary of taking lifts from complete strangers with all the murder and kidnapping that's been in the news recently, but you're more than a little headstrong with a dash of stupid to go along. That's what your mother always told you, anyway.

Some Cadillac speeds past you, blaring what you think is a Donna Summer song, and you watch as the music and taillights fade into the night.

You shouldn't be surprised, you figure, as the minutes continue to tick on by. There's a gas shortage, you reason with yourself as you bend down to pick up your bag, thumb still stuck out, elbow resting on your waist. People don't do this anymore. Afraid of getting picked up by a pervert or a killer. Afraid of picking one up, and then a streetlight just like the one you're under is the last thing they see.

8:58

You sigh, ready to head in for the night. Marvin, dude who sits at the motel's front desk, is sure to give you shit about it again.

You're preparing to cross the street when you hear the low growl of a pickup truck approach. Not looking to get creamed by some fuckin' rusted-out GMC, you step back onto the curb where you'd been posted.

Except the truck slows up, and the window rolls down as it crawls to a stop in front of you.

Your heart races. Finally.

You walk up to the passenger side window and look in, expecting some fat old putz looking to get some tail in exchange for a ride.

That's not what you see.

"Need a lift, young lady?"

The truck's driver is older than you, sure, but you were wrong about pretty much everything else. He's got short dark hair and a 'stache, with some stubble across his chin. He's wearing a leather jacket over a plain gray tee, with a pair of sunglasses hung on the collar. One hand is on the wheel while the other is laid across the back of the bench seat, a cigarette perched in between his first two fingers.

You lean forward on your tiptoes as best you can, forearms resting on the door's open window. Pretending to survey the interior, you look around and take the opportunity to check the man out. God, you think. I wouldn't mind giving him whatever he wants in exchange for this ride. Maybe another kinda ride. Ha!

"As it turns out, I do. You offering?"

You rest your chin on your arms and give him the sweetest smile you can muster. The man eyes you up and takes a drag from his cigarette. You watch with rapt attention as he inhales deeply and then exhales the smoke out through his nose.

This guy's got you all hot and bothered and you haven't even gotten in the truck.

He gestures with his hand. "Come on, kid. I gotta make the state line by midnight."

You definitely like the sound of that. Eager and supremely stoked to finally have a way out of this dump, you pull on the handle, jump in, and swing the door closed behind you. Your backpack finds its place between your feet, and the stranger starts driving again as you pull your seatbelt across your shoulders.

"Where're you headed?" the man asks, glancing over to you and then looking back at the road. The asphalt seems to stretch into infinity, flanked by trees and fields and the occasional watering hole.

"Away from here," you chuckle as you fidget with your fingers. Black nail polish decorates your trimmed nails. It's chipped and uneven in some spots; you never were great at painting your nails, especially your right hand.

"I got that," the man drawls, voice deep and smooth like honey. "Any particular destination in mind?"

You shrug. To be honest, you hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. Your first and only priority was a way out, and anything after that was a problem to be handled when it came to it.

"Nope. Just as far as you're willing to take me."

The guy nods and takes a drag. The smell of cigarettes never bothered you like it does some other people; you find it relaxing, calming, especially when it's fresh and all-consuming like it is in this guy's truck. The vehicle itself is old, maybe 10 or 15 years, and a glance into the bed behind you tells you he's traveling with a couple boxes and nothing more.

It's certainly not state-of-the-art, but that's all the better for staying under the radar.

The silence looms over you like a cloud. The stranger seems content to just listen to the engine and the tires on the road, but you're prone to fill silences unprompted.

"What's your name?" you ask, and look over at him. He glances at you and raises a brow.

He clears his throat, eyes moving back to the road. "You can call me Mando."

"Mando?" you retort before you can stop yourself. "What kinda bogus name is that? Like, what... you got a thing for mandolins or some shit?"

The man huffs. "It is what is, kid. Get used to it."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "Alright, alright... Mando."

He doesn't try to continue the conversation, so you don't either. Minutes pass, and then hours, and you find yourself drifting off not too long after the clock reads 10:00. You shake yourself awake, wanting to stave off sleep until he pulls over to rest for the night.

But the engine is like a lullaby, the soft swaying of the truck a gentle rocking motion, and your eyes fall closed despite your best efforts.

When you wake up again, the truck is no longer moving, and the clock reads 12:30.

You must have been woken up by Mando putting the truck into park. The darkness outside does not give any clues as to where you are, but as your eyes adjust you can just make out some picnic tables, garbage cans, and signs.

A rest area. Makes sense.

Mando is fumbling with something beside you. It's a map, you realize when you look over.

"Where are we?" you ask with a yawn.

"Just over the border. Made it a bit later than I would've liked, but that's not a big deal. You can sleep here in the cab. I'll take the bed, since I sleep there anyway."

You nod, though you find it odd the way he's... not asking you for anything. He hasn't mentioned payment, monetary or otherwise. You watch as he folds the map back up, and catch his gaze as he stashes it in the glove box.

"I gotta repay you somehow, mister," you mutter. "For how nice you're bein' to me. 'Specially since I made fun of your name and all."

At your words, Mando gives you a stern look from under one of his furrowed brows. "No, you don't. Blanket's under the seat. Get some rest."

He turns away, grabs the keys, and is out the door before you can reply.

It's just so unusual for a guy to pick up a girl like you and refuse payment, much less not ask for or take it outright. It's a shame, really. Any other guy, you'd give him what he wanted sure, but with less than enthusiastic participation. The one man to whom you'd gladly deliver anything he asked... and he seems not to want it.

You suppose you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Better a prude than a murderer, that's for sure.

As you reach under the seat for the blanket, your hand brushes against some sort of canvas bag, long and zippered. You lean over to look in at it upside-down, hair brushing against the dusty floor mats.

It's a rifle bag. You reach in to feel at where the barrel would be, and sure enough, there's something distinctly rifle-shaped inside.

Huh. It's not a surprise that a guy like him's traveling armed, but it makes you wonder. A hunter, maybe? Probably. There's a lot of those around.

You spot the blanket and pull it out. It's gray, scratchy wool, but as you pull it over yourself, you find it keeps the nighttime chill away quite well.

You wake up to Mando swatting at your feet.

"Time to get up, sunshine. Gotta get going."

His deep voice pierces through the fog of sleep still hanging thick over your mind. You groan and push yourself up onto your elbows, drawing your feet in to give him space to slide into the drivers' seat.

It's still dark out. You see a hint of light on the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise peeking over hills and fields.

"What time is it?" you ask, rubbing at your eyes. You're a chronic over-sleeper, so seeing the sunrise is a rarity. It seems Mando has no such problem.

"A bit after six. We'll stop at a diner for something to eat in about an hour. You're welcome to go back to sleep until then." He turns the key in the ignition and the truck rumbles to life, a blast of lukewarm air hitting you in the face.

"No, no. I'm up," you assure him, shrugging the blanket off your shoulders. As you fold it, you look over at the man beside you. He's wearing the same faded jeans and leather jacket as yesterday, but the shirt underneath has changed. The sunglasses are still hung on the collar, but now it's some faded band tee from like 8 years ago.

You set the folded-up blanket on the seat between you and him, watching as he puts the truck into drive and starts off. Before you know it, you're watching the early-morning world pass by outside your window. You kick off your sandals and tuck your feet up under yourself, sitting crosslegged on the seat.

About 15 minutes later, you've grown tired of watching farmhouses and cornfields fly by in the dark.

"So, uh..." you start, not really knowing where you intend to finish your sentence, "you like music?"

Stupid. That was stupid.

Mando chuckles. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" you reply, hopeful that he might have more to say.

"Yes. I do like music."

You roll your eyes. "What kind of music? Jazz? Opera? Country-western? Who's your favorite artist? Got any favorite records?"

He glances over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

"Well, I figure if I'm gonna be traveling with you for a good while, I might as well know a bit about you. And vice versa."

Mando just hums.

"I'll tell you mine, then," you inform him, grinning widely now. "My favorite record right now is Parallel Lines. By Blondie, you know? I really like them. This time last year I woulda told you my favorite album was something by Wire or the Sex Pistols - I was real into punk, if you know anything about it. Now I'm more into poppy stuff. I just think it's fun, to be honest."

You continue to ramble to Mando well into the drive. The sky grows lighter and the road grows more crowded, but he does not stop you. At the end of a tangent about Bowie, you turn to look at him, and he's sitting there like you haven't just talked his ear off for the past twenty minutes.

"Sorry. I jus-"

"Don't apologize. It's... I don't mind," he interrupts, not taking his eyes off the road.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, looking at the sandal-shaped marks on the tops of your feet. "Don't you have any particular songs you like?"

Mando's quiet for a minute. You wait, looking up out the window. The sky is a pale pink and blue, with a hint of orange off to the east. A field of cows comes up on your left - your eyes track them as they pass by, wondering what it's like to pet one.

You bet they're soft. Soft and cuddly and so dumb they're cute.

"You have to promise not to laugh."

The words come as a surprise. You look over to Mando, eyes wide and interested.

"Never. Favorite music is sacred."

He sighs. His grip tightens on the wheel, like sharing even a small part of himself causes him distress.

"Tapestry. Carole King," he says, though the words are quiet and guarded.

That wasn't the answer you were expecting. "Really?" you ask, smiling brightly.

He just nods, though he spares a glance towards you, like he's gauging your reaction. You lean back against the seat, turning towards him more fully.

"I wouldn't have guessed. Color me surprised, Mando. You have good taste." It's true. The album's a classic, though more so with girls your age, not guys who pick up hitchhikers and keep rifles in their trucks. "What do you like about it?"

Mando shifts, bringing his left arm up to rest on the door, elbow propped so his head can rest on his hand. "Not sure. She writes a good song, that's all I know."

You're not satisfied with that answer. You'll get to know Mando, even if it's like pulling teeth. "Bull-shit. Pink Floyd writes a good song. Paul Simon writes a good song. Why her? Why that record? It came out like ten years ago, there's gotta be a reason - a real reason - you still like it."

The drone of the engine and the road is like a soundtrack in itself to the silences that loom heavy before every sentence he speaks. You wonder when the last time he really got to talk to someone was - talk like this, not small conversation with the waiter or grocer.

You're no psychiatrist, but it doesn't take a genius to spot someone who's been alone for a while.

Mando hums. "I guess I relate to her songs... in a way I didn't expect to when I first heard her music."

You smile at that, pleased as punch that he trusts you with that information. It's like cupping cool water in your hands on a hot summer's day, fleeting and precious. "What's your favorite song on the record?"

He turns his gaze to your for a moment, dark brown eyes staring at your dirty feet and day-old shirt and messy hair. You're not sure what exactly he sees as he takes you in, but you sit there and allow it regardless.

Mando looks back to the road, watching the small town approaching slowly on the horizon. "I Feel the Earth Move."

You nod. "A classic."

He just hums in response, and you expect the truck to fill with silence once again.

Except it doesn't.

Mando reaches out and presses the button to turn on the radio. Blondie's Heart of Glass flows out through the speakers - and you laugh.

The glowing neon sign advertising Lindy's Diner, with her promise of pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee, gets you more excited than you care to admit. Mando pulls into a parking spot along the street, and you're out the door before the wheels have stopped turning.

Admittedly, you do also have to pee.

You rush into the diner to take care of your business, also using the provided sinks to brush your teeth and the mirror to comb through your hair with your fingers.

It's not much, but you do feel better. Hopefully tonight you can stay in a motel at least, maybe take a shower.

You exit the restroom and look around the diner. Mando's sitting in a booth, smoking a cigarette and looking out the window. You head over, tossing your backpack into your side first and sliding in after it.

"I'll be right back," he says, and leaves. You watch him walk over to the men's restroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

Whatever. Kinda rude. Not like you care, anyway.

You lean back in the booth and take a menu from the stand at the end of the table. The classic breakfast platter is looking particularly tempting, with its hash browns and bacon and eggs-however-you-like. You're contemplating scrambled versus over-easy when you hear a pair of footsteps walk up to your table.

Two strange men stand over you, looking at you like they know exactly how homeless you really are.

"You here alone, baby?" the shorter one asks, putting a grimy hand on the back of your booth, right behind your head. You open your mouth to say no, in fact, I am not, but the other guy speaks for you.

"It looks like you are, honey. Just our luck, a girl like you all on her -"

"Is there a problem?"

Mando's deep voice cuts through whatever it was the creep was planning to say. The low timbre of his voice, normally soft and kind, is uniquely dark - almost menacing - when it hides a threat.

You slowly cross your legs, hoping no one notices the movement under the table.

The two guys turn, and behind them you see Mando, looking extremely pissed. He puts a hand on the back of the taller man's neck, cig still perched between his fingers, and yanks him away from where he'd been standing in front of Mando's side of the booth.

"Jesus, man! We didn't know you were -"

Mando puts his hands on his hips, eyeing them up like a lion might size up its prey. "What? You didn't know what?"

The guy gulps. "Uh..."

"Come on," Mando taunts, something dark glinting in his eyes. "Don't get nervous on me, now."

"We didn't know you were with her, man. Sorry."

Mando shakes his head. "No. Don't say that to me. Say it to her." He nods hid head towards you, subtly positioning his body in between yours and theirs.

You're frozen in your seat, torn between fear and arousal.

The tall guy glances at you. "Sorry," he mutters. The shorter one's still looking at you funny, though.

Your companion jerks his head towards the door. "It's best you both leave, now."

You realize the diner's gone quiet, customers and employees alike watching the exchange with bated breath. The taller guy glances around and turns, heading straight for the door. His buddy hesitates, gaze shifting from Mando to you and back again. Eventually he also turns to leave, following the other one out.

Mando slides into his seat, though he won't quite meet your gaze when you look at him. Noise picks up in the diner once again and you let out a shaky breath.

You're about to say something when the two guys pass by the window. The shorter one peers in, works his jaw, and spits on the ground on the other side of the window from you. You see him mouth the word 'bitch!'.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Mando to try and joke about it, attempting to brush off the uncomfortable encounter. But he's not there, and you realize belatedly that he's now storming outside.

Mouth agape, you watch as Mando stalks up to the short guy. Jesus, you think, if looks could kill...

The creep whirls around, throwing a fist at Mando before he even gets a good look at him. Mando dodges it easily with a step back, looking simultaneously murderous and annoyed. He winds his arm back and sends his fist flying at the creep's face. The guy stumbles and falls, clutching at what is now a bloody and broken nose, landing on his back on the sidewalk. His friend has long run off.

Mando puts a boot on the guy's sternum, pressing down so he can't get up no matter how much he struggles.

You see him lean down, elbow on his knee, and say something. The guy's eyes widen and he nods frantically. Mando then removes his foot and, without sparing the guy a second glance, re-enters the diner.

He slides into the booth again and takes the menu from you. There's blood on the knuckles of his right hand, but he makes no move to wipe it off. He flips through the pages as if nothing happened. You stare at him.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter, voice soft and wavering.

Without looking from the menu, he responds. "Yes, I did."

"But, you coulda just... just let him go..."

"I could have," he replies, and turns a page. "But I didn't."

"But -"

For the first time since you both entered the diner, he looks up at you, and you're taken aback the intensity of his eyes. "He deserved worse, kid. Far worse."

He sounds so sure of it that you can't bring yourself to say otherwise. You sigh and clasp your hands together on the table, unsure of where to go from here.

Just then, the waitress comes up to your table, notepad and pen in hand.

"You two know what ya want?" she asks as Mando puts the menu back in its place.

He gestures for you to go first.

"Uh, yeah. I'll have the classic platter with scrambled eggs and white toast. And black coffee, please."

The woman nods, writing your order on her pad. "And you, sir?"

"I'll have the blueberry flapjacks, please. And coffee, black, for me as well."

The waitress nods and turns away. As you watch her push through the silver kitchen door, you realize that maybe you should be grateful for the way things went. That they didn't get uglier.

That Mando was there at all.

"Thank you," you say softly, doing your best to convey your sincerity to the man sitting across from you.

He simply nods, observing you with a look you can't quite place.

After breakfast, the two of you set off down the highway again. Fleetwood Mac flows out through the speakers and you don't expect to stop until after noon, when Mando will have to refuel (both the truck and your stomachs). Until then you kick off your shoes and put your feet up on the dash, window cracked about an inch so the summer wind can flow through your hair.

Despite the rocky start to the morning, the hours pass by easily, weightlessly. Sometimes you talk with Mando, other times you simply sit and watch the world pass by. You don't think you've ever seen this much land in one go, and it thrills you. The idea that there's so much more.

The topics vary from your time in school to movies to the truck. You're surprised to find out that Mando's never seen Star Wars, a fact nearly unheard of to you. You promise yourself that you'll make him watch it sometime, somehow.

Lunch passes without incident; you insist on paying for your ham and cheese sandwich, because Mando had covered breakfast before you could protest. It hits the spot, along with your ice-cold Coke from the little market's freezer. There's a line to get gas, as there is everywhere, but luckily it isn't too long, since you're in the middle of nowhere. Mando won't be able to fill the truck up again for a few days, meaning you'll have to stop for the night earlier tonight than you did yesterday.

You do find something interesting at the market and you decide to shell out the money for it because it intrigues you. A new style of Kodamatic camera, complete with a pack of instant film - 12 potential photos.

In your mind you see pictures of mountains, and the truck, and Mando, and you stuff the camera in your bag before your mind can wander any further down that road.

You have to admit - traveling with someone who you know can protect you if the need arises is comforting in a way that almost makes you nervous. You keep telling yourself not to get used to it, that this is just a temporary situation for as long as he sees fit to keep you around. After he decides he's had enough, he'll leave you, and you'll be on your own again. You can't get too dependent on him.

Nighttime arrives much too quickly. The sun has just dipped below the horizon when you drive into another small town, not much more than a stoplight and a few bars. You get lucky, though, because the unmistakable neon of a motel glows just ahead.

"Thank god," you groan as Mando pulls into the parking lot. "I need a shower so goddamned bad."

Mando chuckles. His arm rests with his hand out the window, flicking the ash at the end of his cigarette out onto the pavement. The orange glow at the end of it brightens as he takes a drag, and you tear your eyes away from his lips before he can catch you staring.

That's another problem. He's every inch as attractive to you now as he was before, except now you know he's nice. The mustache and the dark curls and the broad expanse of his chest are all only made hotter by the knowledge that he likes Carole King and Elton John (he knew all the words to Tiny Dancer) and blueberry pancakes.

Plus there was that whole punching a guy to defend your honor business.

The guy at the motel's front desk reminds you of Marvin. Greasy blond hair and acne on a kid not much younger than you. You give him a disgusted look when he eyes you up, but he cuts it out when Mando walks in behind you. It gives you a small sense of satisfaction to see him so meek before your companion.

"We need a double for the night," Mando drawls, counting cash on the counter, cig perched between his lips. The sign advertised a night's stay for $22. You'd tried to pay Mando your share, but he'd refused your money.

The kid shakes his head. "Only got singles available."

Mando raises his brows. "Really."

The kid, whose name is Matt according to his name tag, nods. It takes Mando a moment to think on it, and then he looks to you.

You shrug. "I'm fine with it if you are, Mando."

He nods once and pays for the room. 12. You take the key and head over to get a head start on your shower while Mando parks the truck and gets his stuff.

The hot water feels divine. Even the towel feels great, because as threadbare and shitty as it is, it's clean and warm from sitting under the vent. You finish up in the bathroom and emerge in a pair of old track shorts and a loose-fitting tee.

Mando's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. His jacket's draped across the table and he's kicked off his boots, so he sits with the remote in hand, barefoot. It's the most casual you've seen him thus far, and it makes your heart race.

"Shower's all yours," you tell him.

Mando looks at you from the corner of his eye. It's hard to tell what he's thinking at any given moment, so you fidget with the hem of your shirt as he looks at you.

A thought blooms unbidden in your chest. I wish I could kiss him.

You blink, taken aback at the sudden, intense nature of your desire to feel his lips against your own. Not knowing what else to do, you cross your arms and turn to the TV. Bonanza is on.

"Seen this episode before?" you ask. It's an old show, but you still like it.

Mando nods, humming. "Used to watch these every week, right when they came out. Only the first few seasons, though."

"Why'd you stop?"

He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the ground. He gives you a small smile, though his eyes hide something pained.

"I got drafted."

Oh. "Oh. I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," he says and gets up, brushing past you to enter the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind him.

You walk over to sit on the other side of the bed from where he was. Drafted. Jesus. You feel bad for bringing it up, even if it was unintentional. The TV plays though you aren't watching, mind wandering to thoughts of Mando in Vietnam. You picture him in the jungle or in a helicopter, the deafening noise of artillery and gunfire filling the air around him.

Maybe that's where he got the nickname. It certainly explains the rifle.

You reach over for the remote and shut off the TV. The clock on the wall reads about 8:00, still early for you, but you tuck yourself under the sheets and blanket regardless. You face the door, away from where Mando will sleep.

Just as you're drifting off, the lamp on the bedside table clicks off. You feel the weight of Mando crawling in beside you, and he too curls up on his side, back turned.

You fall asleep hoping he's not too upset with you.

The next thing you know, you're awake, though the world is still dark outside. Behind you, Mando snores softly, warm breath fanning out across your neck.

Wait.

You blink a few times and realize the two of you must have shifted in the night. Mando's body is pressed right against yours, chest to your back, arm draped over your middle and hand tucked under your chin. Your legs are intertwined and against the back of your thigh you feel -

You feel him.

Sleep is a powerful drug, however, and the realization is not enough to make you move. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you think maybe this isn't so bad. Your tired brain convinces you to revel in it, to enjoy this position you've found yourself in. Before you can second guess that reasoning, you drift off.

And then you're awake again.

This time it's thanks to a rush of cold wind in your face. You reach back to feel for Mando, but the warm pillow tells you he's not there. You open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at something. It's still dark out, but the lights of the motel parking lot put him in silhouette before you.

"What is it?" You lean up on your elbow to get a better look. The nighttime air is cool on your face, smelling faintly of gasoline and rain.

He bends down and picks up whatever it is that's in front of him. You watch as he turns to look left, then right, seemingly in search of something. He turns around and you see what he's holding.

It's a baby's carrycot.

You immediately sit up, heart racing. "Is it -?" you whisper.

Mando nods, closing the door behind him. You get out of bed and rush over to stand next to him, peering into the carrier.

Sure enough, there's a baby asleep inside. It looks to be a boy, about a year old. You bring a hand up to your mouth.

"Why - who would - what?"

Mando shakes his head, staring at the little guy. "I don't know. I heard a knock at the door and there he was - no sign of anyone else."

"We should - what do we do, Mando?"

He brings the carrier over to rest on the table beside his jacket. The boy is out cold - his little hands grip the blue knitted blanket and his mouth is just barely open. He's got dark hair, wispy and soft atop his head. As you observe the sleeping child, you notice the corner of a small piece of paper tucked in between the blanket and the cradle. You reach out and grasp it between your thumb and forefinger, unfolding it carefully.

"What does it say?" Mando whispers. Your voices are low so as to not disturb the child.

"Grogu. Please take him far from here," you read, and feel your blood run cold as the note goes on. "Not safe in this area. His father is dangerous."

It's scrawled in blue ink on half a sheet of lined notebook paper, the fringe from being torn still attached. Your hands shake as it hits you - there's some mother out there so scared for her son that she left him in the care of strangers. That there's a man out there who legitimately threatens this boy's life.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, rage and sadness simmering in your chest.

"We have to, Mando." Your words are shaky but certain. The man beside you rests a hand on the carrycot, still looking at the sleeping child within.

You turn your eyes to him. He nods, solemn.

"Let's let him rest. We'll leave in the morning, get as far west as we can. Might even be able to make Texas if we leave early enough. We can figure it out from there."

His other hand brushes against your back, and then he's drawing you into his chest. The embrace is soft, unhurried, and you lean your head against his shoulder, hands tucked against his chest. Letting your eyes slip closed, you think back on the previous day, how you never could have predicted this turn of events. How you've never felt so uncertain of things, even when you'd lost everything.

Together you return to bed, but neither of you gets much sleep.

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfiction #fanfic #din djarin fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x fem!reader #female reader #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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elfwoodfae · 3 years

Text

“Nightcall” Harrison Eo Wells x reader.

Chapter-5

Warnings: smut, please don’t read if you are under 18.

Author’s note: I hope you all like and enjoy this. It was honestly probably the hardest chapter to write and I’m still a little insecure about it. I didn’t want to break Eo’s character. Let me know what you think.

Gif credits to the owner, I found this one on google.

It was almost eight when Caitlin picked you up at your house to go out. It would be a relaxing night out with the girls. The plan was to go to a bar and have a few drinks and catch up about life outside of work.

Once you both made it to the bar and Iris arrived you all settle in a table and decided to order some drinks. Even though you had decided not to over indulge you felt like you needed to relax after such a hectic week.

After the first round of shots you started to loosen up. Iris was telling you all about how amazing Eddie was. He was a very cute guy you had to admit, but not really your type. You preferred brunettes.

“So” Iris began as she and Caitlin redirected their eyes to you.

“So?” You continued waiting for them to speak.

“Don’t play dumb! What was that with Dr. Wells this morning?” Iris finally said.

“I promise you both it was nothing.” You said trying to defuse the situation.

“Come on, we see the way you looked at him.” Iris kept pushing.

“And I have seen the way he stares at you from time to time.” Caitlin commented. Yes he would look at you but for an entirely different reason, only to make sure you didn’t slip up.

“I just… I don’t know.” You said honestly looking away.

“Hey, is okay to like Dr. Wells, I don’t think the age difference is a big factor.” Caitlin tried to cheer you up. You honestly wished you could tell them the truth. Which was that you did liked him. More than liked him. Far more than just physical attraction. You used to admire him, look up to him. You wanted to be by his side, reassuring him that he was a good person when the particle accelerator had exploded and almost everyone had turned their backs to him.

You wanted to make him feel good again, to make him smile. The truth was that you had feelings for him, even if it was a painful truth to admit to yourself.

“I just don’t think now is the right moment to pursue a relationship with him.” You said honestly. “Plus I don’t even know if he likes me back.” You concluded trying to get their minds off of it.

“But you will never know if it could have been something, maybe he does.” Caitlin said. It didn’t look like they were letting this go.

“You guys is just, he has been alone for so long, I honestly don’t even think he has ever had a relationship again after his wife died.” You commented.

That made you think, had he ever had a relationship with anyone after? Was he seeing anyone? Not that you cared but just out of curiosity.

“That is true, I have never seeing him with anyone or heard him mention anyone since I started working for him.” Caitlin added.

“Exactly, maybe he is not interested, I’m sure there had been plenty of women interested in him.” You said as you rolled your eyes. Gaining a knowing smirk from Iris.

“You know why don’t we change the subject, speaking about an unreciprocated love is making me feel down.” You said as you made your way to the bar to order the next round.

One too many shots later you found yourself getting into your apartment. Deciding to change and get ready for bed you made your way to the bathroom, but while passing by the window you looked outside, trying to see if by any miracle he would be somewhere looking at you. It was very silly actually, you should not be caring or having these thoughts. But you honestly couldn’t help it.

After getting ready for bed and laying down you stared up at your ceiling lost in thought. You did like him a lot, it was just so hard and so wrong. Looking for your phone and looking up a picture of him from the internet you looked at every detail of his face. His nose, his hair, his lips, his eyes, those were your favorite. Your drunken mind wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. Would he be sweet and loving or rough and passionate?

Maybe you were taking this too far, maybe you needed to let him go, in your heart. Having these feelings for him and having to put up with him and what he was was just too much, it wasn’t going to end good for you.

With that thought in mind you fell asleep, maybe tomorrow your mind would be clearer.

When morning arrived and you made it over to Star labs you had a raging headache. You really hoped it was a quiet day. After entering the cortex and noticing Cisco there alone you asked him about everyone else. Apparently Barry was at CCPD, Caitlin was with Dr. Wells, he had been invited to speak at a conference and you were honestly happy for a calm day without the tension of his eyes on you following your every move.

The day remained calm, nothing really happened, no meta attacks, no crazy crime. It was just a normal relaxing day were you and Cisco decided to do inventory of the multiple discarded tech that was laying around. Making sure nothing was missing. Last thing any of you wanted was another Captain Cold incident.

Once the afternoon came and you decided to make your way home, as you made it almost to your car your phone started to ring. And of course it was Wells.

“Hello” you picked it up.

“Y/n, are you still at Star labs?” He asked.

“I’m actually about to get into my car. Why?” You asked him. Suspicion growing in your mind.

“Would you mind bringing me some papers to my house I forgot on my desk this morning?” And there it was. It was honestly probably the last thing you wanted to do right now, you still had a light headache and were looking forward to go straight home and relax.

“Can’t you come and get them?” You asked rolling your eyes. He could come, get them and be back in his house in the blink of an eye but no, he wanted you to do it for him.

Had this been before you wouldn’t have even thought about it twice before rushing over and helping him, being mindful of his condition.

“You will make me do all of that in my condition?” He questioned you.

“Ha ha! Good one Harrison, good one.” You said with annoyance.

“I’ll go and get them to you.” I’ll be there soon.” You finished the call, arguing with him about it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

Once you made it to his house with the papers in hand you knocked on his door, he had good taste, his house was very modern and styled to perfection from what you had been able to see from the outside. As he opened the door in his chair and invited you in you gave him the folder. You had never been inside the house, at least not further than the entrance.

“You know you could have done that trip in a second but instead you decided to make me do it for you.” You told him with mild annoyance. He turned around in the chair to look at you as you walked into the house.

“You never minded doing them for me before.” He responded.

“Well yes that was before. Lots of things I didn’t mind before.” You told him as you looked to the side taking in every detail of the house. He only stared at you, trying to decipher the meaning hidden behind you words.

Once you both made it to the living area he got up and walked over to the bar cart serving himself a drink, signaling at you with his glass offering you one.

“No thank you. Do you need anything else?” You asked harshly.

“Someone is in a bad mood.” He commented, that was the last thing you needed, for him to be playing games as if he wasn’t the reason of half of your problems.

“You are my bad mood.” You said before you could hold your tongue. He only raised his eyebrows at you.

Sighing you looked at him. “Actually a drink would be nice.” You said as you ran a hand through your hair.

He handed you over a glass as you drank a big gulp out of it.

“Why are you staring at me?” You questioned him. As he looked at you while leaning against a nearby table.

“I am just wondering what has you so stress out.” He said as if he wasn’t adding to that stress himself.

“You are kidding right?” You said as if it was supposed to be the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t believe I am y/n.” He said, his face serious but relax. You scoffed.

“I despise you.” You said while taking a sip of your drink.

“Now that’s not true.” He counteracted you.

“Actually you know what? I wish I did. I wish I actually despised you.” You said, getting fed up with his games.

“I wish I despised you, I wish I did, before all of this I actually admired you.” You continued, maybe this was what you needed to actually confront him and get it over with, maybe that way your mind would finally forget about him, even if your heart didn’t want to.

“I used to look up to you, want to help you and support you when everyone turned their backs at you. I wanted to make you feel better and make you see that it wasn’t your fault. That it was an accident what happened. I wanted to be with you. I liked you so much. I used to feel happy when I came into the lab because you would be there. And what I honestly wish for the most is that I had never found out, that you had never told me.” You finished while simultaneously finishing your drink. You turned around and left the glass in a nearby table, before giving him a chance to reply you told him before walking away.

“Thank you for the drink.”

As you made it to the door you felt a gush of wind behind you as he gently grabbed your arm to turn you around.

“I wish you hadn’t found out either.” He said, he was so close to you you could smell his cologne, so masculine. It matched him perfectly.

Trying to yank your arm out of his grasp you looked away, feeling emotional and vulnerable, you could feel the light pressure behind your eyes of tears wanting to form. He noticed it right away, letting go of your arm to grab your chin gently lifting your head to make you look at him. You avoided his eyes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected you.

“Look at me.” It wasn’t a question, and the dominant tone of his voice make you look up at him stubbornly.

“I despise you.” You told him once again.

His face softened as he lifted a hand to rub your cheek gently, “We both know that’s not true.” He whispered so softly that if there had been any other noise in the house you would have missed it.

You wanted him to kiss you so much.

“It’s not a good idea.” He said as if he had read your mind.

“Then let me go, let me go and forget we ever had this conversation in the first place.” You said as you closed your eyes and tried to collect your thoughts.

He moved closer to you, breathing you in. You raised your hand and placed it on his chest, not making enough pressure to actually push him away.

Lowering his mouth he softly connected your lips to his. You didn’t pull away, enjoying the feeling you had only dreamt about.

He broke the kiss only to kiss you again, this time more intensely, grabbing the nape of your neck and burying his hand in your hair.

He bit down on your lower lip, making you moan into him as he pried your mouth open, finding your tongue and caressing it with his own, tasting the alcohol in your mouth. His kiss became rougher, as his hand found your waist and squeezed it hard, trying to feel your skin through your clothes. His mouth broke away from yours to travel down your jaw as you moved your hands to his hair, pulling and running them through it.

“Tell me to stop.” He whispered against your skin.

“Tell me stop before it’s too late to go back.” You knew what he meant. He was asking you to stop before you could betray everyone you cared about any further in a way that would never be reversed.

But you didn’t want him to. You didn’t care in this moment about the consequences of tomorrow.

You grabbed his face and kissed him giving him your answer.

Running his hand down your lower back he sped you away to a room, his bedroom you assumed, and he slowly moved you to the edge of the bed, kissing you and moving his hand down to your butt cheek and squeezing it as you groaned into his mouth.

Moving your hands to the bottom of his sweater, digging them inside to feel his skin, warm and soft, feeling his muscles under the skin. He started to unbutton your shirt. Button by button as his mouth traveled down your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin making your head drop back and your eyes roll back into your head.

Taking off your blouse his hands roamed through your back looking for the clip to get rid of your bra. Once he found it he got rid of it and roamed free the skin of your back, kissing you lower and pushing you back until you fell back into the mattress. He moved down kissing the valley between your breasts while kneading the soft skin and kissing the softness of them hard enough to leave a mark.

His hands reached down to remove your pants and underwear together, leaving you naked to him. Placing himself in between your legs he took of his own sweater and unbuckled his pants, moving down to kiss you.

Your hands moved over his back, feeling his skin before moving to his hair to pull him back to look at you, the hunger in his eyes made you feel the slick growing between your legs.

Kissing him hard you moved your hand down his stomach to touch him. Moving it inside his pants to grasp at his hardening cock. He groaned breaking the kiss to bury his head in your shoulder.

“Take them off.” You breathed out. Desperate to feel more of him.

In a flicker of lighting he was on top of you again, naked while kissing you again, trying to devour you and memorize the feeling of your lips on his.

Running his hand down your body his fingers quickly found what they were looking for, rubbing against your entrance covering themselves in your slick as he groaned at the feeling of your wetness. His thumb moved over your clit vibrating against it.

The feeling was electrifying. It was far better than anything you could have dream off. The vibration he caused made your back arch against him while breaking the kiss and moaning hard into the air.

While his thumb vibrated against you his fingers moved over your entrance again, he pushed one in, working it around you, feeling you and preparing you before adding another to stretch you out for him.

He kissed your neck and sucked on it, leaving a mark and biting on it while you pulled at his hair in pleasure. You were getting close, he knew it, he could feel it in the way you tighten around him, he moved his finger to add more pressure to your clit, making you gasp and close your eyes as the wave you had being building washed over you. Moaning hard while your body tensed he helped you ride it out.

Kissing you once again your hands found his shoulders as you pushed him back to straddle him, sitting on top of him as you lowered your head to kiss him, his hands instantly found your butt as he squeezed you while you grinded your hips against his, feeling the wetness of your orgasm rub against his cock, making his eyes half lidded and his mouth part open in pleasure.

Circling your hands around his shoulders and neck you moved up enough to grab him and move the tip of his cock to your entrance. Feeling the delicious pressure of his cock against you. Your head fell back with a moan as he squeezed your hips hard enough to leave the skin red and bruised when you started to sink down onto him slowly as his face broke down at the sensation, his mouth opening and his eyes closing as you could feel the air leaving him at the feeling of you sinking down on him.

Time felt like it had slowed down completely while you sank all the way down, feeling him stretching you open, sliding in so deliciously slow you could die satisfied just by the feeling of him entering you for the first time over and over again.

Once you were fully seated on him, he grabbed your hair with one hand and moved your face down to kiss him while his other hand moved your hips up. Trusting down slowly you started to move on top of him, raising yourself and sinking onto him again, moaning into his mouth while he guided your movements. Building up a pace you started to pant while feeling yourself ready to come again. His hand left your hair to squeeze your breast as he kissed your chest and the softness of it, bitting it and licking as you rode him.

Your pace speeded up and while the angle didn’t allow him to touch your clit with his thumb it didn’t stop him from vibrating all of him under you, giving you the vibrations in the best way possible, every time your hips met you could feel yourself loosing a bigger part of you every time. You were so close, he knew it, he wanted to feel you squeeze him hard and see you come undone on top of him. Riding him, moaning for him.

“Harrison.” You breathed his name as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

“Harrison,” you moaned his name once more and he knew instantly what you needed, in the blink of an eye he switched you over placing himself in between your legs and moving your thigh over his hips, allowing them to connect again while he entered you in one hard trust, vibrating all over you, bringing you closer to the edge as his pace speeded up and he growled like an animal at the feeling of you. Your eyes closed and your mouth moaned out his name once again as your walls squeezed him, trapping him and never wanting to let him go.

Coming all over him while his pace faltered at the feeling of you coming over his cock. He grabbed both your hands in his own and interlocked your fingers with his, moving them over you head as he brought your bodies together impossibly close while kissing you, groaning into the kiss and feeling himself getting closer. He sped up his pace once again and buried his face in your neck, bitting down on your skin to muffle the moan escaping him as he came deep inside of you.

You both laid there. Unable to move or utter a word. There was nothing you could say. And he didn’t know if he wanted to hear whatever it was you could say, afraid it would break this moment. Your hand moved over his back to his hair as you ran it through it. His face settled in your neck, breathing you and enjoying this moment, both of you silent as you looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to say anything. Only wanting to enjoy the feeling of him still buried into you and his hands interlocked with yours. Everything else could wait until tomorrow. Consequences could wait until tomorrow.

@mintchipcupcake

@yetanotherwells

@saltykidcreation

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

#the flash imagines #eobard thawne fanfic #eowells fanfic #eowells x reader #harrison wells fanfic #harrison wells x y/n #the flash fanfiction #eobard thawne x reader #harrison wells fanfiction #harrison wells imagine #harrison eo wells x reader #harrison eo wells fanfic #smut #harrison eo wells x reader fanfic #harrison eo wells imagine

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 20, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

So much happens in this episode that I couldn’t stop the meta and had to break it in thirds. Part one is here, part three is here.

Owie Owie Owie

Wen Zhuliu takes exquisitely tender care of Wen Chao, despite presumably disliking him quite a lot. He wipes his tears away, saying that the tears will infect his wounds, which...isn't likely, but ok.

I will note that he didn't get the "no sting" kind of medicine, however, so maybe there's a limit to his kindness. Wen Chao screams and yells at him while he puts a tiny amount of medicine on one tiny spot of owie. It's going to be a long night for these fellas. Except it isn't because they're going to die, so at least they won't have to put more medicine on.

The candles blow out and we hear the sound of a flute, which Wen Zhuliu hilariously says is just the wind when Wen Chao starts freaking out. They have two days to go before they get to safety, and Wen Chao is pretty sure he's not going to last two days. And you know...he's right!

As usual he blames Wen Zhuliu for the situation, but then gets afraid that WZL is going to leave him, and starts making promises of status. WZL says that's not necessary. He is a loyal sonofabitch, I'll give him that.

The Man Comes Around, Redux

And now Wei Wuxian enters the scene, climbing menacingly up the stairs carrying his own hair fan, just like Lan Wangji did in the previous episode. (Gifset here). Wen Zhuliu doesn't look optimistic. When the boys on the roof see Wei Wuxian they don't look too happy either.

Wei Wuxian stops in front of Wen Zhuliu and proceeds to have a philosophical conversation with him. Wei Wuxian has come to fuck your shit up, but he has also come to pass judgement on your ethics because he is, fundamentally, still himself.

Wen Zhuliu takes the opportunity to justify his actions, giving a heartfelt statement about what he owes to Wen Ruohan. Wen Zhuliu knows his number is up and that they obviously didn't kill Wei Wuxian hard enough, but he still feels righteous.

(more after the cut)

Here Wei Wuxian asks a question that shows the fundamental difference between himself and Wen Zhuliu. In many ways they are similar: neither of them was born into their clan. Both were appreciated by the clan leader and placed in high positions. Both feel an obligation to those clan leaders. When Wei Wuxian asks "why do other people have to pay for your gratitude?" he's foreshadowing the moment when Jiang Cheng demands the death of the Dafan Wens.

Wen Zhuliu doesn't hesitate to murder people because his clan leader wants him to. Whereas Wei Wuxian doesn't hesitate to pay a terrible price--his golden core-for his gratitude to Jiang Fengmian. But he won't let the Dafan Wens pay the price of his continued membership in the Jiang clan; he chooses exile while Wen Zhuliu chooses murder.

Wei Wuxian is done talking and very very slowly brings his flute into position and starts to play. Wen Zhuliu doesn't make a move to stop him, but he might be frozen in place...everything happens at weird speeds in this scene.

Lan Wangji is super horrified when he sees what Wei Wuxian is doing with his flute. So horrified, in fact, that by the time they are face to face, he's moved past any other emotion.

Lady in Red

As Wei Wuxian plays the flute, the camera moves around him (or they spin him on a turntable) and the scenery around him shifts to a 360 view of...the burial mounds! That's so fucking cool!

You can take the boy out of the graveyard but you can't take the graveyard out of the boy. He is carrying it within him now.

He summons up the hottest ghost lady ever, to scratch the shit out of the Wens with her fancy fingernails. She's all in red, not the dark Wen red, but super-saturated bridal red.

She's not dressed as a bride, but she is very pretty and the color is awesome, particularly when she turns into red smoke. Presumably having actual ghosts attacking people is ok with the censor board as long as they are pretty ladies in nice clothes, since there are two in this episode and this one is absolutely definitely a non-corporeal being when she wants to be.

Camera Operator: What did I ever do to you?

She fights with Wen Zhuliu, who tries to put his core-melting hand on her, unsuccessfully, and then figures out that Wei Wuxian is the better target, so tries to put his core-melting hand on him.

Wen Zhuliu, you need to have some different moves! Not everybody has a core for you to melt.

Zidian’s Revenge

As soon as Wen Zhuliu targets Wei Wuxian the boys break in from the rooftop, with Jiang Cheng snapping Zidian up over a rafter and down around Wen Zhuliu's neck in a single move, and then hauling him up and hanging him.

This is a pretty gratifying moment; Jiang Cheng finally gets his vengeance using the weapon his mother gave him before this fucker killed her. He also gets to come back at the guy who melted his core and kill him with a spiritual weapon. All around nice work, Jiang Cheng.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji initially placed himself between Wen Zhuliu and Wei Wuxian, which is a pretty strong show of devotion, given that his chest was directly in line with Wen Zhuliu's hand.

He watches intently while Wen Zhuliu dies...Lan Wangji is actually a pretty vengeful guy, isn't he? He's not into torture but he seems to like executing bad people, and he enjoys chopping off arms a whole lot.

Welcome Back

Having disposed of Wen Zhuliu, Team Where The Fuck Have You Been is ready to greet Wei Wuxian. This is Lan Wangji as he prepares to turn around and face him.

This is not "relieved that my soulmate is ok" or even "feeling betrayed because you didn't even send me a text." This is cold, hard, fury. He's plowed right past relief and joy into full on disgust and vehemence.

Jiang Cheng is also pissed at him, but he's so used to being pissed at him that it's not a remarkable emotion, and it passes quickly. He gives him his sword, calls him a prick, punches him in the shoulder while Lan Wangji looks grumpy Wang Yibo tries very hard not to smile, and fails.

Then Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian an enormous squishy hug.

Wei Wuxian, who has probably wanted that hug for the past decade, does not return it, and looks stricken, eventually raising his flute hand behind Jiang Cheng's back.

Lan Wangji glares at him while Jiang Cheng hugs him, and then shifts to glare at the flute.

Let's talk about Lan Wangji's body language here. This scene is often talked about, including by OP, as "Wei Wuxian picks a fight with Lan Wangji in order to push him away." But since their very early days,Lan Wangji's nonverbal communication has been an essential component of his relationship with Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian has been reading his microexpressions from the very start, and he's the only one besides Lan Xichen who does that.

Lan Wangji's anger and disapproval are written all over his face and posture, so much so that even a casual observer can tell what he's feeling. For Wei Wuxian, with his extreme awareness and having shared actual literal telepathy with the guy previously, this has got to feel like Lan Wangji is screaming at him.

Lan Wangji is the one picking this fight. Wei Wuxian is trying to defuse it by giving him time to calm down before engaging. For perhaps the first time since meeting him, Wei Wuxian ignores Lan Wangji to focus on Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng asks him a bunch of questions and Wei Wuxian slides out from under most of them, giving half answers, non-answers, and what All The President's Men calls a non-denial denial.

Wei Wuxian, who is adept at sounding like he's speaking truth when he is lying, here sounds like he's lying when he's speaking something very close to the truth. He spins a particularly outrageous-sounding tale of finding a cave and learning an ultimate power there...but that's actually what he actually did, actually. Xue Yang does this "lie so much that the truth now sounds like a lie" thing by accident, years later in Yi City, but Wei Wuxian is using it as a deliberate tactic to hide the truth from his brother. Which is basically his main occupation at this point.

He acts offended that Jiang Cheng doesn't believe him, but he does it playfully to cast everything in the conversation as a joke.

Lan Wangji is not as inclined to accept utter codswallop as Jiang Cheng is, and he has already figured out an important underlying layer of the situation--the turn away from the way of the sword--while not seeing the very bottom layer, the "I don't have a golden core" layer.

Unfortunately, he continues to be judgy and pissed off. He says "Wei Ying" gently enough, but his body is braced for conflict.

Wei Wuxian looks at him wearily and stands up to have the fight Lan Wangji is asking for.

Maybe you were right But baby I was lonely I don't want to fight I'm tired of being sorry

I'm standing in the street Crying out for you No one sees me But the silver moon

Soundtrack: 1. Sympathy for the Devil, The Rolling Stones 2. Tired of Being Sorry, by Ringside

Writing Prompt: Who is the lady in red and what is her deal?

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #chengxian #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

Text

Harry Wells x Angel Reader- Oneshot (Flash)

"Are you shitting me!" Cisco yelled.

Cisco, Barry and Caitlin were currently locked in the pipeline. The meta responsible grinning at them.

"You really shouldn't be so trusting. "

The female snickered, waving the meta cuffs in her hands. Harry handcuffed at the side. He was pulling against his restraints angrily.

"Once again you've failed to keep our security up to mark Ramon."

"Not exactly the time for a lecture don't you think Harry!"

It was only a matter of time before Iris or even Joe realized something was wrong. The alert had already been sent out. What they didn't account for was you skating into the room. The urgency is clear on your face. You must have gotten the notification.

"Guys!!"

This particular meta was sporting super strength.

"And who is this, another member of team failure."

"Hey!" Cisco protests.

Dangling the power dampeners in her hands, she smiles at you. "If you're nice and obedient I just might let your friends stay in one piece. Now be a good girl and come here."

"(Y/N) get out of here!" Barry orders. You out of all of them did not have the advantage of being a meta. You did have something else however.

Something you hoped you'd never have to reveal to them. The situation right now though, it wasn't looking good. You weren't exactly sure just what this woman was after, but it was obvious you couldn't let her have it.

She moved closer, swinging a fist. You duck, kicking her in the stomach. Her body goes flying into the opposite wall. The force of your kick knocks her out completely, her body laying still on the floor. Harry's mouth falls open, stunned. You just kneel, bending the metal at his wrist so he can break free. He does, eyes never leaving you. Caitlin and the gang are still partially star struck. You just rub your arm nervously.

"I guess we have a lot to talk about. "

"You think!"

Today would be longer than expected.

~~~~

"Let me get this straight this whole time you've been a metahuman. Why didn't you tell us?" Cisco looks a bit hurt.

"I wasn't trying to keep it from you I just, I didn't know how to go about telling you. Cisco...I'm not a metahuman."

"Pardon?"

"I'm..well I've always been, you know. An angel."

"Angel as in, you're a really nice person or, like an actual winged flying celestial being?"

"The second one."

"This is...something." Caitlin mumbles. You knew it would be a lot to process. It's why you'd been doing such a good job at keeping it on the downlow.

"But aren't angels meant to be, up there?" Cisco points to the sky.

"We are usually. Some of us come down every once in a while to study humans. You guys are just really interesting." You try to hide your excitement, because the last thing you want is to make them uncomfortable.

"A-Anyway, I was just checking out some stuff and then well, I started to like it here so I stayed. I liked being around you guys. Amenadiel said it was fine as long as I didn't cause any trouble then I could stay." you gave an awkward smile. Harry is still in a state of shock. So is everyone else.

"Are you saying that you're an...actual angel?" Cisco questions. You nod. With a shrug of your shoulders your wings appear. It's so sudden that they all take a step back. The blue feathers look so beautiful. It spreads all the way out, probably a few inches longer than your arms. You shift, letting them slide back into your shoulder blades. Team Flash is still staring at you.

"Please say something." you plead.

Barry steps closer. "Are..are my parents.." He doesn't have to finish.

"They are." You smile. Barry lets out a soft relieved laugh. "Everyone is." you assure. You're referring to all of their losses, not just Barry's. Caitlin and Cisco appear a bit more relaxed, even a bit happy.

"So..c-can I stay?"

Harry folds his arms. "Of course. With Ramon's lack of intelligence when it comes to security I presume we'll be seeing a lot more criminals walking in and out of here."

You clap your hands together, doing a little happy dance. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" you run over giving Harry a hug, lifting his feet off the ground and his eyes go wide in alarm. You drop him back just as quick. "S-Sorry I, I forget my own strength sometimes." Cisco is snickering from the side.

"If you'd like to keep all your body parts attached I suggest you stay quiet Ramon." That shuts him up. He walks off, muttering about some upgrades. You're still grinning like a child.

"This is gonna be great!"

It felt nice to have everything out in the open.

No secrets. ~~~~

So Team Flash carried on as usual. You really thought things would get weird. It wasn't everyday you found out your friend was an angel. You told them of some of your adventures, and stubborn siblings.

The outcome was more beneficial than anything else. You had no idea it would turn out this well, otherwise you would have said something ages ago. All you really wanted was acceptance, and that's what they gave you. For you though, the person's opinion who meant the most was Harry. Heaven knows you've been crushing on him for ages. You were making your way through Star Labs to that very person now. Coming around the corner, you smile when you see him sitting in his chair, working on another great piece of tech.

"Hey Harry!"

Your usual peppy energy was quite the same as the day you got there. Harry was always curious behind your endless supply of optimism. You were like a ray of light, forever shining over him. Not that he'd admit that to you. He'd already been doing a poor job of keeping his feelings in check. Your true identity just added to the allure. He wasn't sure he could be more in love, then you had to be a freaking angel of all things.

He groaned internally.

"I'm definitely going to hell for some of the dreams I had about her."

Harry doesn't fully acknowledge you, and it's a bit worrying. You were hoping you'd never have to ask the question, but with the way he's been moving around you, you just had to ask .

"Are you afraid of me?"

He pauses, wondering if he heard that right.

"I know things are a bit different now, but I'm still the same person, Harry. I just hope that this doesn't change anything. " You look a bit more guarded, and Harry drops the wrench in his hands, moving from his desk.

Maybe he needed to work on his reactions. He never wanted you to feel like he was afraid, or even angry at you for holding such a secret.

"I'd never be afraid of you. You're one of the few people I trust with my life (Y/N)." Your face lights up.

"Somewhere deep down I always knew there was something extraordinary about you. I suppose now I know why." You press your hand on the table behind you, taken with the way his blue eyes gaze at you. You lower your eyes with a shy giggle.

"W-Well I'm glad! Thanks Harry." you're about to leave. You've said all that you needed to. But he stops right in front of you.

"Harry?"

"Would I get smited if I were to take advantage of this adorable angel?" The back of his hand brushes against your cheek, and you become a little light headed. He cups your face, and you can't produce words. He's close...so close.

"Umm..I.." You're babbling, and it makes Harry smile. He leans in, leaving a soft kiss on your lips, pulling back to gauge your reaction. Your lips are parted, eyes a bit glossed over.

"I think just a peck is still on the border of innocence, don't you agree. " His thumb slides over your plump lips, and he pulls back, about to move away. You grab at his sleeve, your desire clear as day. "One more.." you beg. Harry smirks. "If you insist."

He goes in for another and you sigh in content. Those pink lips of his are every definition of sin. His body is sturdy, taunt, firm. With his arms around you, it's near impossible not to feel everything. His hands have ventured down, and his palm slides up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. You need to regain some type of control on your body.

With a huff, you pull back to get some oxygen back into your lungs. Harry kisses your cheek, chin, then your neck. You whine, because his hand is so warm against your skin, and his lips are trying to leave a mark everywhere they go. You close your eyes, hands trailing up his neck, gripping at his short dark hair. He responds, using his free hand to lift you onto the table. He still hasn't stopped his assault on your neck. He's driving you mad.

"Angel.."

The whisper topped with his teeth nipping at your neck makes you mewl. You jolt slightly when your wings pop out. The wind and length knocked a few papers over along with a cup that was sitting there. Harry looks up, chuckling under his breath. You blush, covering your face.

"I-I'm sorry."

That was embarrassing.

"Don't be." He doesn't look fazed in the least. Just continues kissing you. You laugh into the kiss, running your hands through his hair.

"Seems like you got a thing for angels Harry."

"Guilty as charged." He mutters pulling off his shirt.

Some secrets weren't that bad he supposed.

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deafeninggardenerpanda · 3 years

Text

The car stopped at the entrance of the diamond mine. Mr. Fugo got out of the car and glared at his subordinate.

"Take the hostage and come with me. Don't let him escape."

"Understood."

"Mr. Fugo ... " Waddle Dee looked up at him. "If you start the ancient machine, it will cause a huge crisis in the Town of Wind."

"Hmph. I deciphered the ancient characters," Mr. Fugo said as he walked quickly. Waddle Dee pleaded with him.

"Please. Don't make everyone in the Town of Wind unhappy ... "

"Don’t you know? This diamond mine belongs to me. The machine found here is, of course, my own. What’s wrong with doing as I please?" Waddle Dee stared at Mr. Fugo with sad eyes, but Mr. Fugo didn’t even look at him and hastened ahead.

They headed into the far depths of the mine. Eventually, they arrived at a large den with a huge machine in the middle of an open area. Waddle Dee was wide eyed. The ancient machine had a mysterious shape—there were things like eyes and a mouth attached to it, and it looked very similar to a cat's face.

"This is ... the ancient machine ...? " Waddle Dee murmured. That made Mr. Fugo laugh.

"That’s it! It's a great invention that will make me extremely wealthy! It’s much more valuable than diamonds! The greatest treasure in the world is mine!" Mr. Fugo walked over to the machine with the three gears in hand.

"Power of an ancient civilization ...! " He fitted the first gear into the machine. There was a rattling noise, and light shone from its first eye.

"Give me money ...! " He fitted the second gear. Another sound, and light shone from the second eye.

"Give me more money than anyone could spend in a thousand years—!" He shouted and fitted the final gear into the machine.

Waddle Dee drew back. A mysterious sound rang out, like the meow of a cat. The ancient machine awoke from its long slumber, and finally began to move.

Kirby and others caught up shortly after Mr. Fugo entered the diamond mine. They chased him cautiously so they wouldn’t be noticed. Mr. Fugo had just walked up to the ancient machine with the gears in hand the moment the group arrived at the discovery site.

"Wait, President Dedede! Don't go out yet!" Kirby stopped President Dedede from jumping out.

"Kirby! What’s the holdup!? Fugo is going to put the gears in the machine!"

"It’s okay, watch."

"Can’t you see!? If this goes on, the Town of Wind ...! "

"Shh! Shut up!"

"But ...! "

"Kirby has a strategy, President Dedede. Let's do what he asks of us," Meta Knight told the impatient president.

"That’s right! Let’s believe in the strategy of Kirby!"

"Magolor! Why do you seem to be our ally!"

"Eh? I'm everyone's ally!"

"Shh! Be quiet!"

In any case, the party held their breath and watched Mr. Fugo from the shadows. The gears were fitted in one by one, and the eyes of the machine shone and regained power. President Dedede let out a groan of despair.

"Come on ... the Town of Wind is going to fall to ruin! What are you going to do, Kirby ...! "

Kirby stared at the ancient machine.

"Okay!"

The machine made a squeaky noise like a cry of a cat as it operated. Mr. Fugo waved his hands and skipped around, cheering.

"Yes! I did it, I did it! I am the world! No, I am the universe! I am rich!"

Brrrum ...! There was a tremendous noise. —And in that moment, the mine began to transform. The rough diamonds shifted in hue. Mr. Fugo was so delighted he started dancing.

"More precious than diamonds! The greatest jewels in history—!" Meta Knight, President Dedede, and Daroach all looked around in a daze. From somewhere came a pleasant, sweet smell.

"W ... what ...? This is ... this scent is ...! " Meta Knight mumbled.

Daroach moaned. "It’s chocolate ...! "

Precisely. The rough diamonds in the mine transformed into fragrant chocolate one after the other. Daroach scooped up some of the soft chocolate with his finger and licked it. Immediately, his face shone.

"Delicious! I’ve never had such fine chocolate. A rare treasure, this one ...! "

" ... Huh ... It’s chocolate!?" President Dedede scooped up some and licked it as well. His eyes widened. "Uh ... uwaugh ...! What is this!"

"Hooray! It worked, Waddle Dee!" Kirby rushed over to Waddle Dee who jumped at him with both hands spread.

"That was incredible! My heart’s pounding!"

"Mine too, but it was exactly as you thought, Waddle Dee! Exactly as you expected!" Meta Knight called out to the pair holding hands and jumping with joy.

" ... Kirby, Waddle Dee. Did you two know this would happen?" They nodded, full of energy. "Please explain. What is all this ... " he said and glanced away.

A bit farther away was Mr. Fugo. He was lying down, awestruck, dreaming of money that could never be used up and still unaware of what had happened.

"What a pity. His face when he learns the truth will be a sight to see. Kirby, Waddle Dee. I’m asking you for an explanation," Meta Knight repeated.

"Uh-huh!" The two nodded and started to talk.

First, Kirby said, "It was Waddle Dee who found the clue. He deciphered the meaning of the scribbled ancient characters at the bottom of the photo!"

"Really? Was the truth written there?" Meta Knight asked.

"Yup!" Kirby replied with a smile. "That scribble meant something like this ... " Kirby and Waddle Dee spoke in unison.

"I hate chocolate!"

" ..... Huh?" Meta Knight, Daroach, and President Dedede stared blankly at the two.

"What do you mean? ‘I hate chocolate ...? ‘" President Dedede said.

"That’s right. That sentence scrawled there was the soulful cry of the great ancient wizard."

"Soulful cry ...? " While President Dedede shook his head, something clicked in Meta Knight's.

"Really!" he shouted. "The ancient text definitely said the ancient machine ‘turned stone into priceless material.’ Of course, I thought it meant any stone lying around, but it wasn’t like that at all. Did ‘stone’ refer to these rough diamonds?"

Daroach whistled. "I get it. ‘Priceless material’ meant chocolate. I've heard about this. Chocolate is still a luxury item, but in the old days, that wasn’t the case. It used to sell for much higher than diamonds ... "

Waddle Dee nodded. "The ancient machine was a machine that turned solid diamonds into chocolate, so the aristocrats profited and became very rich," he said.

"I see. Chocolate also gives off a sweet scent that spreads all throughout town. The ‘stink’ was the scent of chocolate," Meta Knight said.

"Yes, the wizard couldn't stand the sweet scent because he hated chocolate, so he pulled out the gears and sealed them."

"The rough diamonds that were here originally were changed into chocolate by the ancient machine, but when the machine stopped working, it changed back into diamonds. Now, it’s returned to chocolate again. Huh! That Fugo’s a nice guy," President Dedede said.

Everyone's eyes were on Mr. Fugo. He had finally returned to his senses, and was sitting down looking around relentlessly, though drowsily.

"I ... it’s ...? Than diamonds ... the treasure that can make a lot of money ... where ...? " Daroach began to laugh.

"Ahaha! Sorry, Fugo. Your diamond mine has turned entirely into chocolate."

"Wh ... what ...? Why ...? " He didn't seem to understand yet. He was speechless and wide-eyed.

"Was you being held hostage part of the plan?" Meta Knight asked Waddle Dee. Waddle Dee nodded.

"That's right. We couldn’t win unless we let Mr. Fugo have the gears. I decided to get caught so we could hand them over without suspicion."

"I told him to think of a different plan because I thought it was too dangerous, but he said it was okay," Kirby said. "I was worried because I wasn’t sure if everyone would drop their weapons for Waddle Dee, but ... " Kirby looked up at President Dedede. "President Dedede rushed to help him right away! I couldn’t believe it!"

"S-so noisy!" The president turned red and swung his fists. "I’m in trouble if I don’t have a mechanic! Waddle Dee’s just nice and convenient to have around because he works so hard!"

"Thank you, President Dedede." Waddle Dee bowed deeply.

"Hmph! How inexcusable! You tricked me by teaming up with Kirby. From now on I’ll work you harder than ever, so be prepared!"

"Yes, okay!"

While everyone talked, Mr. Fugo stood up, staggering.

"My diamonds ... my property ... it’s all over ... everything is over ...! " he moaned with hollow eyes.

"It's not over," Meta Knight said. "From this moment on, your wrongdoings will be exposed."

"What ...? " Mr. Fugo’s deep blue face turned red. He glared at Meta Knight with fury in his eyes. "Was it wrong? What did I do wrong?"

"Don’t play dumb. You wanted money and were planning on bringing the Town of Wind to ruin for it!"

"I was? I was planning that despite being so highly respected by the people? No way!" Mr. Fugo laughed brazenly. "I am always thinking the best for them. I was planning on starting the ancient machine to enrich the town and make everyone happy!"

"You were the only one who was going to be happy. For that reason, you thought it would be okay to destroy the Town of Wind."

"Not at all! I was planning on creating a new town for all of the residents here. I wanted more food for them too, and to have plenty of places for people to play so that everyone could be happier than they are now."

"That’s a lie!" Waddle Dee shouted. "I heard. I asked you not to make everyone in the Town of Wind unhappy, but you said, ‘Don’t you know? What's wrong with doing as I please?’"

"What did you say? You couldn’t have heard me say such a terrible thing."

"But I heard you clearly ... "

Mr. Fugo smiled at Waddle Dee fearlessly. "Who will listen to your words? I am the most admired man in this town. The citizens will, without a doubt, place their trust in me!" Then—there was a gentle voice.

"No, no ... I also heard clearly. You said you were going to trample the Town of Wind, Fugo."

" ... Eh?" Kirby and his friends startled. The man who came forward was dressed in black. It was Mr. Fugo’s subordinate, who had captured Waddle Dee.

Mr. Fugo was aghast. "W ... what ... You are ...!? " he said.

The man stroked his face. It transformed as if he had removed a mask. He was an older gentleman with a white beard.

"Oh—!? The old man of the Magic Guild!" Kirby shouted.

"T-the— Elder—!? W-what!?" Magolor shouted as well, so shocked he nearly toppled over. The one who took off his disguise and revealed his true face, and the one who gifted Kirby the Star Compass, was the Elder of the Magic Guild. The Elder smiled.

"If Waddle Dee tells what really happens, and I testify, I think the truth will be communicated to the citizens."

"W ... what do you mean? Old man, why are you here ... "

"The blood of the wizard was blessed. When I heard the ancient machine was found, I couldn’t stand still," the Elder replied when Kirby asked.

"In other words, you disguised yourself as Fugo's subordinate so you could see the ancient machine ...? " Meta Knight said.

"That’s right!" He nodded exaggeratedly.

"Now someone who might be the Guild Elder pops up ... There’s too much going on," Daroach muttered.

The Elder looked back and squinted at the large machine. "Wonderful ... As you said, I concealed myself because I wanted to see it with my own eyes. A beautiful figure ... just as the legend said ... "

"Legend?" Kirby asked. "There’s a legend about the ancient machine?"

"Uh-huh. It has been passed down through the Magic Guild since ancient times."

"Then, old man, you knew the ancient machine was really a machine that turned diamonds into chocolate?"

"No, not just that." The Elder shook his head slowly. "That’s not the sole purpose of the ancient machine. It’s a machine that fulfills everyone's wishes."

"Wishes ...? "

"Mhm. It's said that any wish will come true. Long ago, the residents in this town probably wanted to eat a lot of sweet chocolate. This machine was able to make that happen. Though the gears were pulled out and it remained dormant for a long time, it has now, again, regained its strength."

"Really ...! Then I have to thank those ancient residents," Daroach said. "Thanks to their wishes, we can eat a lot of good chocolate."

"Waddle Dee! It was just as you said, Waddle Dee!" Kirby took Waddle Dee's hands and bounced excitedly. "Waddle Dee said that it would be nice if the ancient machine could fulfill everyone’s wishes! Amazing! Right on the mark!"

"Uh ... Uh-huh ... "

"The ancient machine has fulfilled Waddle Dee's wish! We can eat chocolate until our stomachs burst!"

"Heh ... hehehe ... I can eat the chocolate I’ve longed for, for the first time in my life ... I can’t believe it ... " Waddle Dee said, blushing. He reached out and covered his hand in chocolate, then hesitated. "But ... I’m nervous ... Heh ... Really ... can I eat this ...? " Waddle Dee withdrew his hand and stretched it out again anxiously.

"Yeah! What are you doing!? Do you or do you not want to eat it!" the short-tempered President Dedede yelled at him.

"I-I want to eat it!" Waddle Dee hurriedly licked the bit of chocolate. The moment he did, tears slowly surfaced in his eyes.

Kirby was surprised. "What’s wrong, Waddle Dee!? Is the chocolate not delicious ...? "

"It’s different! What is this! This is chocolate ...!? " Waddle Dee shouted and wiped his tears. "10,000 times more than I had imagined ... No, a million times more sweet and delicious than I had imagined! I can't believe something so delicious exists ... It’s incredible!"

"Alright! Well then, here’s where my specialty comes into play. The race to make the best sweets is on," Daroach said with a laugh.

"Huh?"

"Chocolate can be eaten as it is, but it’ll be even more delicious if you use it for parfaits and cakes." He nimbly flipped over his cloak and put away his silk top hat. "Starting today, Diamond Town will be renamed to Chocolate Town. To celebrate, let’s feast on some of the best sweets!"

"Really!? Yippee!" Kirby leapt up into the air. President Dedede and Waddle Dee (and Magolor too, while they were at it) pranced about. The Elder of the Magic Guild also smiled happily.

"Outstanding sweets! I'm glad I’ve lived for so long."

Behind the happy group, however, someone stared bitterly. It was Mr. Fugo, of course. He mumbled and muttered in a low, envious voice.

"Chocolate Town ... I refuse ... This town is ... Diamond Town is ... It’s mine ...! " He jumped onto the ancient machine with surprising vigor. Mr. Fugo was trying to remove the gears again.

"Stop, Fugo!" Meta Knight shouted when he noticed. But faster than he could stop—the eyes of the ancient machine moved steadily. An intense light shone from them.

"Ahh!" Kirby and his friends involuntarily cried out and shut their eyes.

—When they opened them again, Mr. Fugo was gone. Instead, where he once stood, there now sat a large clump of dripping, melted, chocolate.

"W ... what ... That’s horrible!" the Elder shouted out in fear. "It's the curse of an ancient civilization! Fugo had the wrath of the ancient machine brought upon him and turned into chocolate ...! "

" ... Huh!?" Kirby and the others were shocked.

"That’s so ... so ...! I'm so sorry ...! " Waddle Dee said, shaking.

"H-hmph! He was repaid for his evil deeds," President Dedede said, turning away.

"That's right ... though this is ... too much ... It’s a pitiful fate," Meta Knight said in a quiet voice.

... Then, the lump of chocolate began to move. Kirby looked at it and shouted.

"That!? That chocolate seems to be alive ...!? "

Arms extended from the clump and started wiping off the chocolate that clung to its entire body. The chocolate ran down, and Mr. Fugo's grimace appeared.

Daroach was taken aback. " ... What. He didn’t turn into chocolate, he was just covered with it," he said.

" ... Didn’t you say it was a curse of an ancient civilization ...? " Magolor looked at the Elder suspiciously. The Elder blushed and rephrased.

"I said it was a curse that covered one with chocolate. That’s the wrath of the ancient machine. Oh, so horrible!"

Mr. Fugo spit out the chocolate that got in his mouth.

"S-s-sweet! Disgusting!" he yelled. "I ... I ...! " And then, he repeated the same words as the great wizard of ancient times.

"I hate chocolate—!"

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#kirby #king dedede #meta knight #waddle dee #magolor #daroach #millionaire fugo #Kirby: Search for the Dreamy Gears!#kirby light novel #translations

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leverage-commentary · 3 years

Text

Leverage Season 2, Episode 11, The Bottle Job, Audio Commentary Transcript

Johnathan: Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Johnathan Frakes.

John: He’s the Director of this episode. My name is John Rogers, Executive Producer.

Christine: My name is Christine Boylan, I'm the writer on this episode.

John: Drinking left to right you have a screwdriver- a screwdriver, which is just a fistful of vodka with an orange in it.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: It qualifies as a screwdriver! Look where we are, we’re at a wake!

John: I've got a Guinness, and Boylan’s having a little baby Guinness. Boylan what is a bottle show?

Christine: A bottle show is a show that tries to save a lot of money by shooting on standing sets. And not adding too many bells and whistles that can get expensive.

John: Not very easy on a con show, but we managed to pull it off, and by far, this is one of my favorite episodes of the two years. Nicely done, both of you.

Johnathan: And the irony of this being a bottle show about a bottle is not lost-

John: Yeah it's- the puns were running thick and furious because we wrote it in 72 hours. Love this- now this is actually a room in the bar we have not seen before.

Christine: Yes, this is the back room.

John: The back room we built. And it was a great little idea. It's an Irish bar, it's an Irish wake, we built the con up from there.

Christine: Creepy storage area.

Johnathan: Oh Alan Smyth, the wonderful and talented-

John: Mr. Frakes, why don't you tell us about this villain? Cause this is a really interesting- it's an interesting reveal, interesting villain. It's not our usual type of guy. How'd you approach this?

Johnathan: Delightful guy, this guy’s been sent to Boston by his father from Dublin to check on his family's money, and how things are going. Decides to take things into his own hand, doesn’t know he’s gonna run into the Leverage team. He thinks he can muscle this poor girl at her own wake- her father's wake and-

John: Yeah, boy that's an asshole. We hate that guy.

Christine: I hate this guy.

John: This guy totally passes the ‘we hate that guy’. Now I'm gonna ask where this scene can run a bunch of different ways. It can run really creepy, it can run kind of light. Like, how do you design this when you're gonna shoot this?

Johnathan: This was as simple and clean as it can be. Here’s a set up, here's the teaser: he wants the money, you see where they are, we have the like this chick, which I think we do. This is Odessa Rae.

John: Yeah, she was fantastic for a character.

Christine: Lovely girl.

Johnathan: And a real redhead, clearly.

John: And it's really- we really kinda dig in on the Boson heritage in this one.

Christine: Yes, and it was important that she fight back, to me, that was a big one, just take that swing.

John: She didn't want to be a schlub. And Liam and Liam’s brother is my favorite bit. How did- Boylan, how did you wind up with the money borrowing aspect of this?

Christine: The money borrowing- I had watched a really fantastic documentary by...oh god, what's his name?

John: The Ascent of Money?

Christine: The Ascent of Money, Niall Ferguson, yes. The Ascent of Money talked about how loan sharks are alive and well all over the UK and in certain pockets of the US, allegedly. So I thought well let's do that, let’s take a little- let’s take the loan sharking and move it over. And also talk about the grand tradition of bookmaking as well, so we have all kinds of neighborhood cottage industries.

John: Yeah, and this is where we really dig into- this was important to do in the second half of the season, because we're really set-

Johnathan: We see every inch of this bar.

[Laughter]

Christine: Yes we do.

John: We see every inch of this bar. You shot the hell out of this, man.

Johnathan: Here's a standing set, and snow! Check out those windows. That's what makes you think you're outside.

John: And by the way, this was the hottest week in Portland on record.

Johnathan: Unbelievable.

Christine: 107 degrees.

John: 107 degrees.

Johnathan: Everybody in layers.

John: This is our Life on Mars flashback.

Johnathan: There we go.

Christine: Jimmy Ford.

John: This is Jimmy Ford and young Nate. And this was interesting, this was- we really need to establish just how close Nate Ford was to a criminal life, for us to do the season finale.

Christine: Yup.

John: And it was interesting for a show that really came out and just came out of the ether, you came back from shooting another episode with this idea, this actually wound up doing an awful lot of work for us for the season.

Christine: I really like to dig in on Nate, his backstory, his troubles, because he's a wonderful shade of gray for us, so I was-

Johnathan: This also the beginning of his fall off the wagon.

John: Absolutely.

Christine: Yes, oh yeah. A nice swan dive off the wagon, actually.

[Laughter]

Christine: With a graceful landing. I was up doing episode eight, The Ice Man Job, and I thought, you know, in between takes you’re sitting there, you're thinking how do- the challenge was, how do you do a bottle show? And I really wanted to do The Wire and we haven't been able to do the wire yet, so-

John: The wire is the classic con in the opening of this episode, where using a delay in sports knowledge, you're able to con somebody. It's the big con in The Sting.

Christine: Yes.

John: It is the big con that everyone uses when they are ripping off The Sting, and they're not telling you. And so we actually made a point of making it text that we’re doing the wire and we’re doing it in this amount of time.

Johnathan: And you can't do it in less than 4 weeks, or 2 weeks.

John: No, no it's a long con.

Christine: A lot of preparation.

Johnathan: It's a long con and we do it in-

John: Yeah. This was the fun of this episode was basically taking everything that was possible-

Johnathan: We do it in 17 minutes.

John: The fun of this episode was taking everything that is impossible in a con and heist show, and making it text that's impossible for the team to do.

Christine: It’s super meta because the Leverage team does what we did, which is do this really, really quickly.

John: Yeah. Really, really quickly. We broke and wrote this episode in 72 hours.

Christine: Yup, I flew up here right before my birthday. 107 degrees at the end of July, and we had a blast. We had a really great time.

Johnathan: Liam and Liam's brother.

John: It was also good to kind of nail down Nate’s- why Nate chose this bar, why Nate- and we kinda touched on it, but the idea that he's got some sort of family history. And it was a big deal too, when we were talking about this bar. Tim Hutton as they were building the set talked about the bar that his dad used to drink in, in Boston. And talked about, like, remembering the pictures of the Irish rebels up in the men's room, and a lot of that stuff we used when we were designing the bar.

Johnathan: Tim Hutton himself owns a bar.

John: Tim Hutton himself owns a bar in New York, that's right.

Christine: He does indeed.

John: And this is our classic vic scene, just a little bit later.

Christine: Yeah, she gave an amazing performance here, every take. Do you remember that? Unbelievable.

Johnathan: Fascinating girl, too; very interesting girl and a wonderful actress.

Christine: Yeah, truly a riot.

John: And you shot the hell out of the apartment. The apartment looks nice in this light. Actually, this was the one that made me want to shoot the apartment in this light on a regular basis.

Johnathan: Well this was Connell saying, if this is night and we can- if we can play the snow, we’ll turn the shutters down a little bit so we can see the snow. It’s- it feels like there's a fire lighting in here.

John: Yeah, it actually affected the way we shot a couple of the following episodes, because in the day, this- the great light wood gives you a lot of space, but it can feel a little too airy. This really made sections of the apartment look intimate.

Christine: The warmth is great.

Johnathan: Yeah, but also I think all of us have learned by this time if we isolate a section - like if we play a scene in the kitchen, it works, but keep everybody up in the kitchen. If you're gonna go down to the television room, we've gotta play that. Once we spread everybody out, you can't make your day.

John: Well Marc Roskin did something interesting in 213 where he used Nate as the hinge to follow people as they entered. But what he did was basically broke it up into mini scenes of that, as Nates starts the TV he's talking to Hardison, comes up at Jeri on the table, and then Parker and Eliot arrive, like on the fly, to land the move.

Christine: That's great.

John: But that- it’s the only time we've really pulled it off really, really well.

Christine: I will say that we did use the staircase a lot in this episode as well.

[Laughter]

Christine: A lot of running up and down the stairs.

John: A lot of running up and down the stairs.

Johnathan: There happens to be an interior staircase in the building that is very convenient for us.

Christine: Yes.

John: Yeah. And that was a great design idea, actually. I remember when we originally stuck that in there, like, we don't know when we’re gonna use it or how, but it's always good to have some circular stairs. No, this is a lot of- this is a lot of fun.

Johnathan: Are you talking about the staircase we see? I was talking about the staircase we feel.

[Laughter]

Christine: Oh.

Johnathan: Between the bar and the bar is literally downstairs in the building.

John: Oh of course, upstairs. That was a big deal was trying to figure out the geography of, like, how this bar’s connected to upstairs.

Christine: Oh here we go.

John: This is my favorite- damn.

Johnathan: And give it to- props to Jeri Ryan, unafraid to play it, fully committed.

John: And then-

Johnathan: Takes the shooter, goes to work.

John: ‘My name’s Trish and I'm lonely.’

Christine: ‘I’m Trish and I’m lonely.’

Johnathan: And I get the girls up and out and here we go.

John: Yeah. She-

Christine: We were all distracted by the way Jeri looked this entire episode.

John: I love Jeri for doing that. I love Jeri for doing that.

Johnathan: She was comfortable with it, embraced it, knows what she was there to play.

John: And it was- also says something about the character which is - you have given her precisely this much information; she is in a bar, she knows exactly how to run this con.

Johnathan: ‘Let me run with it, I got it, I got this one.’

Christine: What a gift the chemistry between Jeri and Alan was here. Fantastic.

John: Yeah, it's hard work flirting with Jeri Ryan. It’s all uphill.

Christine: Oh his days were terrible.

Johnathan: Poor thing.

Christine: He had the worst job ever.

John: I love also- again, we try to differentiate between the jobs everyone has. Parker always does the lift. You know, Chris can do a drop if he needs to - Eliot can do a drop, but you have to make sure when you've got a five-hander, everyone’s got their jobs.

Christine: I like the lifts in this one; we see some of them, and some of them are magic tricks. So it works out well.

John: And now we’re using the phone to scan which is something that you can do. They actually just created a food scanner for the iPhone.

Christine: Really?

Johnathan: A food scanner?

John: You take the iPhone, you run it over the UPC symbol on the outside of food, and all the nutritional information comes up - the calories, that sort of thing.

Christine: As if I'm not neurotic enough. I totally need that app. Yeah, that’s great.

John: There you go. Also I love the choice- and again, it was a virtue of us writing this really fast, and also wanting to do a bottle show which is so constrained, which is - he's just going to tell her he's a loan shark. We’re just gonna- we’re gonna try to take all the pipe, all the stuff you usually try to hide, and sell it.

Christine: He owns it.

Johnathan: Lay it out there, put it into the scene in act one.

Christine: There's something great about putting it forward like that.

John: It just moves. It just flies. And also, whenever you can give Hardison a recurring series of impossible tasks, it is inherently amusing.

Christine: Aldis is adorable in this.

Johnathan: Especially in a limited amount of time.

John: Well that's really what we've talked about on a couple of the commentaries; when you have the super team, it gets really, really hard to constantly challenge them. So it got more and more - how do we constrain them in time and space? And this is the ultimate example. You know, this episode runs essentially in real time.

Johnathan: It is; it plays in real time.

[Silence]

John: That's me drinking, pardon.

[Laughter]

Christine: A lift.

John: A little lift.

Christine: Lift and replacement.

Johnathan: That was the replace. Yeah, the great chemistry between these two actors.

Christine: Alan’s worst day ever.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: All day. All day with Jeri.

Christine: All day.

John: Sitting at a bar.

Johnathan: Sitting at a bar.

Christine: Could be worse.

John: It's interesting because we had episodes with bigger Tara Cole roles; this is actually my favorite one of the Tara- of Jeri doing Tara. Because you- this is one of the few times we cut her loose and let her do what she's supposed to do and really put her insolation.

Christine: And she’s really fearless, just fearless, which is great.

Johnathan: She’s a pro, pro from Dover and-

Christine: Seriously.

John: What does that mean?

Johnathan: She knows this character-

John: I'm disturbed. I like, by the way, the bar thing of like, ‘Yeah, we’ll miss our flight.’ They look over, it’s Jeri Ryan, ‘Yeah, ok. We’ll blow it off.’

Christine: Yeah, seriously.

Johnathan: ‘Ooh, ooh!’

Christine: Because this guy, not only is he gonna own it, he’s gonna brag about it.

John: What I love is we actually had a discussion in the room, for some people who didn't use to drink professionally, about the viability of some of the gambling and the money and everything in a bar. And I was like, I was a stand up comic-

Johnathan: That would never happen.

John: I was a stand up comic in a mob bar for a long time. Trust me - this was a Tuesday night.

Johnathan: This happens.

John: Yeah. I saw 20-30 grand go away at the bar several times on sporting events; just poorly thought out ideas. And this was a challenge for you, by the way, you were establishing geography that didn't exist.

Johnathan: Well that's what we just did by going out the back door. We all bought- we all drank the kool aid and said there will be a back staircase, otherwise this story’s gonna be dull as dirt.

Christine: Yeah, there’s gotta be-

Johnathan: Trying to get in and out the front door.

John: It's kind of Noises Off.

Christine: Yeah.

John: Yeah, we're kinda doing-

Christine: Everything I write is a little stagey.

John: Everything you write is a little stagey.

Christine: A little farce-y.

Johnathan: Here's more of our traditional 360, well used.

Christine: This is beautiful here, yeah.

Johnathan: Standing them up. Keep them standing. Always good advice.

John: The actors?

Johnathan: Yeah.

John: The actors’ energy is part of the energy, right, yeah.

Christine: Yeah this- I just got a thrill off of this, watching this being shot.

John: It's also- it’s fun because it was one of the purest versions. Again, because we’re in so fast of Nate Ford like ‘I am a genius. I am playing chess. I am playing speed chess.’

Christine: Yeah, right.

Johnathan: This is a great bit coming up this is- we come off this and we go back to Christian with the dart. He kept saying to me, ‘No, no, Frakes, I can do this; I can actually throw it.’ I said, ‘No no, you don’t understand Christain, it has to look like magic.’ ‘No, give me half an hour and I’ll make some- I'll make some bullseyes for you.’ I said, ‘No, no, no, I can do it as a special effect. It’s gonna look great; you're gonna look cool.’ I fought with him and fought with him. He said, ‘No, let me just look.’ I said, ‘The point is you don't look! You dont look when the dart goes in the wall!’

[Laughter]

Christine: Christians tough, because he's good at everything.

John: Well that's the trick. There’s- in a previous episode he jacks the slight on a gun and without looking catches the shell in midair as he’s doing dialogue. And it’s like- it’s hard to say no to him when he really wants to dig in in something, but yeah. This is also- I love- this is pure- this is pure threesome goodness. The kids are upstairs ripping apart dad’s apartment.

Christine: Triangles.

Johnathan: It also tees up the ending which is great.

Christine: And this- I, you know, this is for the fans.

John: The idea that they have utterly co-opted-

Johnathan: Nate’s house? Yeah.

John: His house, yes.

Christine: Oh, the cereal boxes.

Johnathan: They’ve all got stashed money.

John: And this, by the way, is a callback, this is why Parker’s always eating cereal; she's planting money in there on a regular basis and hiding it.

Christine: I think she likes the sugar as well.

John: She likes the sugar.

Johnathan: For anyone who’s watching closely.

John: And of course we finally solve the mystery of the picture.

[Laughter]

Christine: Her look right there is great.

Johnathan: ‘Are you kidding me?’

John: I love the idea that she- for once, cause we often play Hardison as the kind of emotional one, and for once we remind everyone, no he's a thief. Yeah. This is just his gig. He will even upset Parker, occasionally.

Johnathan: Woo he got down there fast, didn't he?

Christine: Oh yeah, that staircase is magical. Well he's very fit; he’s taking them three at a time.

John: Here's the thing: I don't think Eliot took the staircase; I'm thinking Eliot probably just went out the window.

Johnathan: He jumped.

Christine: He just jumped.

John: Went out the window, landed in the snow bank. I think that's probably the best way to play that particular transition.

[Laughter]

John: We don't- who cares about transitions? America is not sitting on their couch-

Johnathan: Great extras, look at these-

Christine: Look at these extras, they’re killing me.

John: Look at these extras. They’re great. This was a really- you know, it's tricky because we usually shoot the-

Johnathan: Comedy. Sight gags.

John: Big comedy. I'm not afraid of the comedy. You know what? No one has ever stopped watching a TV show because it made them laugh.

Christine: Look at all these wires.

John: Yup, you have no idea what they're doing.

Christine: Comedy wires.

John: By the way, that's roughly what the inside of my wall looks like; that's actually not bad.

[Laughter]

John: I like that you had him play the whole way through with the helmet, by the way.

Johnathan: Yeah keep the helmet- once you got the helmet-

John: But we actually-

Johnathan: How about the amount of wires? Come on, I’ve seen The Three Stooges!

[Laughter]

John: It’s perfect, there's nothing like a pulling wire gag.

Christine: Look at all the ends, that's great.

John: It was interesting, breaking this up we eventually wound up in little strike teams like, ‘OK, you figure out how the wire works; you'll figure out how the Tivo- this part of the Tivo delivery system works; you'll figure out what the crime scene is.’ Yeah.

Johnathan: Was this the writers room?

John: Yeah, this was basically, everyone got a piece of the script, come back in a day and tell me how it works.

Christine: We’re our own super team.

Johnathan: And you know what? It's one of the great things about this episode is the train leaves the station and there is no- there’s not much room for coming back and expositioning.

Christine: It's the express train.

John: I love when he-

Johnathan: It is the express train.

John: And that's the idea is, again- and this could've been a nice passing episode, the ability to set up everything in this. This might be the most important episode before the finale, because you really see who this guy is.

Johnathan: It's also nice to see this guy go toe-to-toe with Tim.

Christian: Yeah.

John: Yeah, it’s was like with Riegert with 210; it's great when you get an actor who's not intimidated by Tim, because Tim, you know, he's a very gifted actor. He's very famous and-

Johnathan: Yeah, he's fabulous. And this guy could carry a show and he was so happy to be here.

John: Yeah.

Johnathan: And Tim liked him, and it worked out and it was a-

Christine: They had a great time.

Johnathan: It was a win, win, win.

Christine: They had a great time, we had a great time.

John: No, this was actually born from the fact that in an old apartment building I was in, people used to pirate off the main satellite feed.

Christine: Like you do.

Johnathan: Yeah.

John: So- as one does. The idea is you do it backwards.

Johnathan: As you do. We'd never do that in college.

John: No, no. Of course not.

Christine: Never.

John: Well satellite, I mean, back when we were in college were those giant sputnik things that we used to battle the Russians in space.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: This is meant to be the Celtics, but what are- we found footage from the Canadian-

John: The Canadian basketball-

Christine: We went back and forth, we made up names.

John: You do not want to buy the rights from the NBA; it is very, very, expensive.

Christine: And that's not the point. The point is the betting.

John: The point is the betting.

Christine: The point is the characters.

John: Exactly, is the idea. And the only thing I'm kinda sad is, we run at 42 minutes and 30 seconds. There's an awful lot of stuff you would love to do, you just don't have time for. We had a great bit that we researched about the neuroscience of gambling, and how you can create-

Christine: Oh yes.

John: Remember? You can create feedback cycles with addictive behavior that- it’s very specific intervals of winning that hooks an addict in, in a way that they can't escape. And we were going to use that at the bar and it just, it just-

Johnathan: There was no room.

Christine: It's like the random praise you give the writers.

John: Yes, it's like the random- the writers- writers were distressed-

Johnathan: Boom.

Christine: Oh, look at that.

John: Yes, the writers were distressed to find out that I was using neuroscience on them. It turns out that you should never praise constantly or never, you should praise randomly.

Christine: Praise randomly.

Johnathan: There are not many physicists that are showrunners.

Christine: It’s true, it’s true.

John: I was explaining the random praise thing to them one day, and suddenly they realized ‘...wait that's what you do.’ ‘Well yeah, it's how you train a rat, so why wouldn't it be how you train a writer?

[Laughter]

John: And it’s great- also the big challenge in the episode to keep the vic alive, to keep it emotionally anchored, and because we’re where she works, we can cut to her a lot and-

Johnathan: We can cut to her a lot, and we put her in a lot of scenes that she wasn't originally in.

Christine: Yeah, just having her around.

John: It really just worked out. Cause you had her there, and you had the writer on set, makes a big difference.

Christine: So this is Brad Farwell and George Burich as Liam and Liam's brother, and George-

Johnathan: Not bad Irish accents for a couple of guys from the great northwest.

Christine: Pretty good. And I just had a drink with George in New York last week and he said, ‘Mention the toothpick! Don't forget to mention the toothpick.’

John: It's nice; it's a nice touch.

Christine: He's in love with that prop; adorable.

John: I remember how Liam's brother- Liam and Liam's brother was born, because we actually were trying to think of a name; it just hung in the room so long we were like, ‘Oh wait, that's the joke. This is Liam and Liam's brother.’

Christine: ‘That’s totally it.’

Johnathan: Worked on [unintelligible] for three years.

John: And beat, beat, beat. There you go.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: Eric Bates, our prop man, said, ‘Frakes, should I get out the good money for this show?’ I said yeah.

Christine: The good, good money.

John: There's gonna be a lot of close ups.

Johnathan: He's got two qualities of money. Yeah I said, ‘Tonight would be a night for the good money.’

John: We’re a heist show. We have an awful lot of briefcases of money, and sometimes you just need the tops and sometimes you need to count it, yeah.

Christine: A lot of cash.

John: And this was a nice beat and Tim really didn’t over play this. He really did a great job.

Christine: It's very subtle this episode.

John: He was really great and subtle.

Johnathan: Well, he's comfortable in a bar.

John: Yeah and-

Johnathan: And I think a lot of us are, and I think that's one of the reasons-

Christine: I don't know what you're talking about.

Johnathan: Well, I mean, you can tell people who spend time in there. Even the shooters behind the camera, everybody was comfortable in there, everybody knew the way it should look, everybody knew the dynamic, everybody knew what the stuff would be like. I mean, there's something about being in a familiar place with a crew that makes you move faster and move with it as a team.

John: And also we've lived in this set a bit more. We set decked a little bit more, and again, it was like usually we meet the clients during the day, and looking at this was like, we should be there at night all the time.

Christine: Yeah, it's gorgeous.

Johnathan: There's a lot to be said for night.

John: Night is cheap rain. Or rain is cheap night. I can never keep that straight.

[Laughter]

John: More great work by Derek, our visual effects guy. There's- it's really hard we do a life of computer gackery and it's really hard to make sure people understand.

Johnathan: Are we gonna go over the split screen again on the TV?

John: I don't know. No, no we're not gonna split-screen.

Johnathan: The big screen is- I've been watching a lot of these NCIS things-

John: The big screen, I think we're gonna go the big screen next year.

Johnathan: That, I think, is the difference.

John: You know what? We just didn't have the tech.

Johnathan: Yeah I know, that's what I'm saying. That’s what I’m saying, we do now.

John: Yeah this was really- although it worked well for this, because it's one of the few times we pop up a bunch of different windows.

Christine: They're multitasking almost.

John: I think next year we’re gonna- and again there's an awful lot of stuff we’re kind of inventing on the fly. Yeah.

Christine: The hell you say?

[Laughter]

Johnathan: It’s a TV show.

John: Yeah, it's like shooting a movie in 7 days, or 6 ½ occasionally.

Christine: 6 ½ in 107 degrees.

Johnathan: Don’t bring it up; don’t rub it in.

John: Now when you get two actors like this, you know, what's your job as a director? You go in, do you have a specific ‘I want to end this scene here’? Do you give them guidelines? Do you shoot-? What's your approach?

Johnathan: Well these guys both decided with our permission, your permission, that, you know, they would adlib. Here’s what needs to happen in the scene. If you have two good actors and you have the intention of the scene clear and you're at a bar and they're having a drink, and they're gambling, and they're watching, it’s safe.

Christine: It's nice to have actors who care about the rhythm of the dialogue. How it's said is as important as what's being said, and they will work with me every- the regular cast and the guest stars were happy to like grab me at any time. ‘Rewrite this. Can I say this? Can we do it that way?’ I love that.

John: Yeah, I know.

Christine: Woo, there's a lot of grabbing going on; very grabby.

John: Yeah we’re setting up Boylan; she's pretty open to it without all those lawyers getting involved.

[Laughter]

John: But here's the thing, there's a lot of showrunners, and a lot of writers, and everything it's like ‘say the words, say the words, say the words.’ And you know what? At the end of the day it's a television show with actors and it's gotta-

Johnathan: It's really- in the defense of both sides, you really have to use it judiciously.

John: Yes.

Johnathan: I think that you have to know- Timothy Hutton can adlib. Alan Smith, I'd done four shows with, I knew he could. But you don't want to turn everybody loose, because everybody thinks they're funny, and only some people are.

Christine: Exactly.

John: You have to be open to it.

Johnathan: You have to be open to it enough to judiciously use whats good and what's-

John: And just not- and I'm just saying, I'm not one of those writers where it's like, you know what? If you wind up with the better rhythm, the better line, that's what matters. Because TV is radio with pictures.

Christine: Absolutely.

John: You know, people listen to voices, people listen- they got their heads down, they're reading while they're listening to TV, you know, that's what drives television. It's nice when television is well shot, but well-spoken television works just as well.

Christine: Oh for me it works better.

Johnathan: They remember what happened.

John: Yes. It'd be nice if every now and then you thought about the fact that actors have to deliver your lines.

Christine: They love it.

John: Yes, they adore you.

Christine: I do think a good section of the writing process occurs on set, honestly. And it's something that I was lucky to learn in rehearsals doing theater: it’s gonna change every day and that's ok. Everybody’s gonna roll with it, it's gonna get better, and it has to be easy to say; it has to be easy for the audience to process and remember.

Johnathan: And also each character speaks differently. That's what happened in the second season in this show, is the characters have found their voices, the writers have found the characters’ voices-

John: Honestly we got lucky. They found their voices early, early, first season. They all had found their rhythms. Because we tend to pair them, and you tend to- and that's what happens is they find the rhythms of each other. That moment of celebration from Hardison is not just him, it's us for having pulled off the wire. Doing a con that most shows take an entire episode to do-

Johnathan: We do it in less than half.

John: And labor the freaking point about it. That's right, in Leverage you get 3 or 4 episodes of television per episode.

[Laughter]

John: And we've won, at this point- and again, this is a hook on Nate’s illness this year. At this point he should walk away.

Christine: Absolutely.

John: There is no reason for him to do this.

Johnathan: But now it's a bigger deal.

John: And it's not just justice, it’s obsession, you know, and it’s vengeance, and it’s control and it's- you know, he's starting to see himself as his father.

Johnathan: And it’s alcohol.

John: It’s alcohol.

Christine: Is it hubris or moxie?

John: Well what the alcohol has done is kind of- hubris or moxie. As we say in the writers room all the time.

Christine: That’s it; it’s very important.

John: Is it hubris or moxie? And with him it’s hubris.

Christine: Totally.

John: But we’re really- what the alcohol has done here is loosened up the reins he's had on what is a really- and what I love is Tim’s not afraid to play this is - Nate Ford is an unpleasant human being. He's condescending, he's sarcastic, he’s vengeful, he's judgmental. You know, I love the- and again Jeri-

Johnathan: And he's not afraid of that.

Christine: No he's not.

John: Yeah, and the fact that when he sort of loosens up, a lot of other shows have ‘Oh he's loosened up, I like him more.’ When Nate Ford loosens up you actually see him see an uglier side of him. The professional thieves are much more likeable on this show than the protagonist, which is one of the reasons I think it kinda works. I love that, that is a great beat. ‘I’m claustrophobic.’

[Laughter]

Christine: Liam's brother is claustrophobic.

Johnathan: What an absurd beat.

John: Well you know what? I'd just come back from Boston, I'd driven the Ted Williams tunnel to go to Logan.

Christine: It’s awful.

John: It's awful; you're underground forever.

Christine: It’s awful.

John: It's like, alright- that's one of the advantages of knowing the city you're actually writing about. Like, you know what, there's no other way to get to the airport.

Johnathan: But it's a wonderful thing to say about a character that has virtually nothing else.

John: Nothing to say. And that actor landed that look.

Johnathan: Exactly.

Christine: That's lovely.

John: Yes, and now we're giving Hardison yet another insanely impossible thing to do.

Johnathan: And we’re taking the leap that the audience knows what a green screen can do.

Christine: Yes.

John: You know what? I think everyone does now.

Johnathan: I think they do.

John: It really is- it’s always interesting to try to figure out, what do people know and not know and not know? And now a little something for the ladies.

Christine: Ahem, you're welcome.

[Laughter]

Christine: This was a fun day on set.

John: Yeah I can imagine. ‘Why are all the PA’s here?’

Johnathan: He's been waiting.

John: He's been waiting for a while. Dude should not have to work out that much and not be-

Johnathan: Exactly. I said, ‘Will you take your shirt off?’ He said, ‘On camera?’ I said, ‘Yeah’. ‘Watch me.’

[Laughter]

John: As opposed to usually where you're with actors ‘Will you take your shirt off?’ ‘Alright Mr. Frakes, if you want.’

Johnathan: ‘Can you really ride that motorcycle?’ ‘I said I could!’

[Laughter]

John: Oh god! Oh this is unspeakable, oh man, this is why we drink during these! I love Parker’s little beat there of, ‘Yeah, like there’s a safe I can't pick, c’mon’.

Christine: Seriously.

John: This is one of my favorites- and again, the second half of the season, we started pairing Eliot and Parker together.

Christine: It's a great pairing.

Johnathan: Yeah, and it changes the rhythm, but they are great together.

John: They're great together. And Chris and Beth are also getting to work together a lot and they- really whole cast really likes each other, so it was fun to watch.

Johnathan: Here's some comedy.

John: You know what, big comedy, half-dressed comedy.

Christine: Sexy comedy.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: Weatherman comedy.

Christine: Weatherman comedy.

Johnathan: Clothes are a little small because they're Nate’s clothes. Did we get that part?

John: Yeah, I noticed that. And also the whole idea that he could be pantless, you don't know.

Christine: He could be, they don't know.

John: No, this was an enormous amount of fun. This is just really one where we kicked back and put every con trope we can into this thing.

[Laughter]

Christine: And we got a lot of pleasure in the writers room of doing the ‘other side’ bit before it ended up in the script.

John: Other side.

Christine: ‘Seattle’. ‘Other side’

John: No this is- and again, it was a matter of controlling information. In theory, the bar- and it's tricky, cause, you know, much like earbuds have changed the way you write these shows in communication. When mobile phones start doing news better, we're gonna have to learn to write different stuff.

Johnathan: Yeah.

John: The ubiquity of information is something that all con and heist shows- controlling information is what that depends on, and you can control information less and less and less. But again, because we were in one location, that was the benefit; it forced us to do something that makes our lives easier.

Christine: I'm a fan of putting constraints on them as much as possible.

John: Yeah. It’s- otherwise they need obstacles.

Christine: Now forget the weather, he’s gonna do whatever she tells him. Look at her, please.

John: Pretty much I think he would probably kill Liam and Liam's brother at this point.

Christine: In full view of everyone.

Johnathan: ‘I don't care if they are claustrophobic!’

John: ‘Put them in a goddamn tunnel!’ No. No it's what - we're watching this with the sound off by the way - and it’s one of my favorite bits about watching these scenes, is you can actually-

Johnathan: You remember what happened.

John: You remembered what happened, but also I like watching- without the dialogue it's easier to see the emotional moments, the choices the actors are making. You can see the swing moments in the scene.

Christine: Oh yeah.

John: The acting- I actually enjoy it more with the sound off. Because you know what's going on here. With the sound off, you know how she’s reining him in, she's shutting him down, and then he’s pulling her in; she’s feeding his ego.

Johnathan: Look at how unafraid of her he is, which was nice.

John: That's also a big thing this year, is coming up with bad guys who were a little more physically confident, you know. It was a little too easy to have, like, old white dudes who were threatened by stuff.

Christine: See no tie. He's not wearing a tie.

John: No tie, he's not wearing a tie. We’ll have to remember that.

Christine: Leather jacket, no tie.

John: And then the stall almost works. And what I love is- Johnathan, you created an entire back to this bar between that drink room and the back room.

Johnathan: The drink room and the poker room.

John: And the magic area. There's no-

Johnathan: It’s huge back there!

John: It did not exist.

Christine: It’s so huge.

Johnathan: There's the whole first floor of that building.

John: Those sets aren't there!

[Laughter]

John: It was nicely done. And especially since you bombed in on short notice too right? Was I supposed to do this one? I was supposed to do this one.

Christine: This all came together very quickly.

Johnathan: Yeah, I think this was yours.

John: This was mine, and I wound up writing another episode, so I couldn’t direct.

Christine: What you missed the 107 degrees in Portland?

John: Yeah, I don’t know if I could’ve- there's no way in hell I could have pulled this off.

Christine: I don't think you would have made it.

John: No..

Christine: I'm just kidding.

John: No, no, no Johnathan has a lot of experience, he's really confident and really great with actors.

Johnathan: Oh please, John.

John: No this- a bottle show is the hardest show you can do on television. Period. The end. And it's the simplest looking one, they are- go find the bottle shows to your favorite television shows and watch how much they suck.

Christine: They're often audience favorites, because you get to play character-

Johnathan: They've often been sidled with flashbacks.

Christine: Oh, that’s true.

Johnathan: And pieces of other shows because they are short as well as bottled.

Christine: No clip show here.

John: No clip show here.

Christine: Just that special Life on Mars flashback to Nate's dad.

John: Nate’s brutally corrupt father.

Christine: Look at these guys.

Johnathan: Joe Ivy, Hank Cartwright, Ted Rooney.

Christine: Fantastic. Fantastic gentleman. Lovely, hilarious.

John: And this one keeps picking up on the entrances too. This really does run in real time, doesn't it? You think- there's a time dash in act four where we do the poker game, but that's it. Now I love- these guys were great. Oh my god, these guys were great.

Johnathan: Local again.

Christine: Local?

Johnathan: God bless the Portland hires.

John: Again Portland, we thought we'd be flying up 3 or 4 actors a week, we flew up one on average.

Christine: Yup, it's that Portland, and then access to Seattle; it's two cities just full of terrific actors.

John: Now they're scheming, now they are working together. These two guys were great, they were really telling their own story back there.

Johnathan: Well it’s again, once they were cast and they started to hang together, and you hang together for a week, and you're on location together, and you're in a show. I've done this, I've been that actor; there's nothing better, there's nothing better than being number 7, 8, 9 in the call sheet.

John: You've got their moments.

Johnathan: On hold. You get your per diem. You've got your moments, you're in the family for a week, it's a great thrill.

Christine: And everybody got really close. You know, it was a heat wave, we’re all in it together, everybody’s going out for drinks, everybody hanging out afterwards. It was nice.

Johnathan: I went home and worked.

[Laughter]

John: You did. You go home every night.

Christine: I think I saw you out once or twice, Mr. Frakes.

John: You went home to prep your shot list for the next day. Of course, you're brutally devoted sir, you are brutally devoted. I like the mislead here, this actually wound up- again, we jumped through so many hoops. ‘How do we put his poker game together? Where do we find it?’ ‘Oh wait, we’ll just establish it early and use all the available resources.’

Christine: And this is where the improv-ing really came into play during the poker game, it was kind of terrific.

John: Well also because this was based on bars where I used to hang out in Montreal where the cops- cause the place-

Johnathan: The cops were in the back.

John: Well, you know, where I hung out at- Montreal, that part was controlled by the Irish mob. So, it was a lot of Irish bars, a lot of cops, a lot of Irish mob guys hanging out in the same place.

Christine: Sort of neutral ground.

John: Yeah, exactly.

Christine: Or a neutral zone.

Johnathan: Newspaper recycling plant right here, ladies and gentlemen.

John: Don't do that.

Christine: Don't say neutral zone?

Johnathan: Right there that's all newspaper.

John: That's all newspaper? That's cool, where'd you find this?

Johnathan: In Portland.

John: No, I meant the-

Christine: Portland warehouse.

Johnathan: Portland warehouse. And that is a sugar, what they cut- What's it called?

Christine: Sugar cane?

Johnathan: They used to cut cocaine with it, it’s-

Christine: Oh.

Johnathan: Baby laxative.

John: Oh wow.

Johnathan: It’s put into-

John: Now I know. How do you know- wow it's almost like you were an actor in the 80s. How do you know so much about cocaine, Johnathan?

Johnathan: I'm just telling you what I learned on the location scout, they told me all these things.

John: All these things you pick up along the way in your long career.

[Laughter]

John: Things happen. And the fact that he is- and again, interestingly, if you go back and rewatch the back six episodes, just Jeri’s role, you can actually track her coherent decision points.

Johnathan: This is a good shot. Aaand boom.

John: And through the door.

Johnathan: We wanted to see the shots cause we know, it’s not really about the shots, it's about the story.

Christine: The shots support the story.

John: No, no, the episodes where Dean does commentary it’s all about the shots. With you, we hammer you with a story.

Johnathan: If you see the shots there’s a problem really, isn't there?

John: If you notice a shot, that means you're not paying attention to the story. But I love that. By doing that push in, you connected that door to a room that is actually on the other soundstage.

Christine: Far away.

John: You have to walk another 150 yards.

Johnathan: Another part of the world! It’s another day!

John: This room actually sold us.

Johnathan: Look at this stage, it’s setting you up for something this season. Look at that stage.

Christine: We got- seriously I got a couple pictures from that stage.

John: I’m sure you do.

Christine: Oh baby, do I.

Johnathan: Does it involve comedy? Cause John Rogers has not made it-

John: Oh no.

Christine: It involves musical comedy.

John: Musical comedy.

Johnathan: What about stand up?

John: Yeah, well I’ve worked that room.

Johnathan: That’s what I’m saying!

[Laughter]

John: Fairly sure I’ve worked in that room.

Christine: There's a flashback episode coming up.

John: Yeah- yeah, we do the writer's flashback, the audience would love that.

Johnathan: Nothing indulgent in here.

Christine: No one wants to see that.

John: No, I don’t think I'm going to go the Steve Cannell playing poker at the table route just quite yet.

Johnathan: Castle.

John: And I say that and the man is a walking god of writing, but no I'm not gonna go there.

Johnathan: And James Patterson as well.

John: James Patterson was there, too. We actually like those show- it's interesting it’s- you know, a lot of commentaries go out of their way to not talk about other shows.

Christine: We like other shows.

John: You have to be a fan of the genre to write the genre.

Christine: Absolutely.

John: You know you have to be. Otherwise you won't know when you're crossing the streams, won't necessarily have the toolbox.

Johnathan: Here's an example of what we were talking about earlier. We gave the three local cops, Alan, Tim, the poker game. Here's what has to happen, we have to have two cons that are positive, and a con that's negative. And we played- we played 6, 7, 8, 9, minute takes.

Christine: Oh yeah, we sat back and laughed our asses off afterwards, they were great.

Johnathan: Sat back and laughed, and cut it together and you go where we see it in the scene.

Christine: Some brilliant cutting here, actually.

John: It’s a really nicely shot poker game, actually. I'm watching it now, this is really really nice.

Johnathan: It’s because we had all the time in the world because we had- we finished the scene and what I needed was the poker game, and what we needed was the story points in the poker game. Instead of trying to find them I said, ‘Why don't we just play hands out?’ And so the camera men, to their credit, Connell and Camp-

John: And again, I love Beth bringing a creepy sexual vibe.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: A creepy sexual vibe to a safe.

Christine: It’s great.

John: Yeah, that's really nice. And she does the same thing- it's interesting. It’s kind of another beat that she played with Eliot in the Lost Heir Job where she knows violence is about to happen, and she gets a little buzzed by it.

Christine: A little excited about it. I don't know anybody like that.

John: Yeah that's not, not at all.

Christine: Not at all.

Johnathan: Isn’t that what you write? That's your strongest suit?

John: Creepy sexual violence, that's what Boylan-

Christine: I don't know what you're talking about.

Johnathan: That's the Boylan way.

John: No the-

Johnathan: By this time Nate is fully into the [unintelligible].

Christine: I mean he's just-

John: Boom boom boom.

Johnathan: He made the decision early, which actually we glanced over. That was a wonderful beat, which he did not overplay.

John: When he goes and gets the booze and brings it over? Yeah.

Johnathan: No no, in the bar when he decides to have the first drink.

Christine: The first drink.

John: Yeah. Well you know, I don’t think it’s in the script to look to Odessa? Just having Tim glimpse over.

Christine: That was all Tim.

John: That was- looking over he was like ‘Oh man, I have watched this little girl since she was 5 years old. I'm not gonna let her down now.’

Christine: Beautiful note.

John: Good fight here, too.

Johnathan: Good fight.

Christine: Great fight. Look at this guy. Oh my god

John: Yeah this is a nice- this is like a toe to toe. We don't do a lot of these.

Christine: This was the first day shooting I think?

Johnathan: Not only first day of shooting, this is-

Christine: Morning right?

Johnathan: This is doubled up with- weren’t we doubled up?

John: Yeah, another show was shooting.

Christine: Oh god we were. I blocked that out.

John: You guys overlapped.

Johnathan: We overlapped, and the crew was on its way to do another thing.

John: Oh wow, I didn't know that.

Johnathan: Remember that?

Christine: That's right we lost some of the crew.

John: Oh wow, nice snap. I don't remember seeing this version of the cut; this is great. Oh both good spins.

Johnathan: This is, what’s his name? This is Paul Bernard’s stunt buddy from New York; he did a great job.

Christine: He’s fantastic.

John: Yeah and Kevin, our stunt coordinator, did a fantastic job.

Christine: Great job, look at that.

John: That is a great fight. That might be one of- that's my favorite stick fight, and the fact that they're both very good-

Christine: Look at this guy, this guy’s the best.

Johnathan: Look at this guy. ‘Oh, oh no. Ahhh!’

Johnathan: Moe, Larry, Curly

Christine: Fantastic. Comedy, Frakes, comedy.

Johnathan: Second Three Stooges reference.

John: Yeah.

Christine: Oh boy.

John: Yeah.

[Laughter]

John: Yeah, and just Parker’s building frustration here.

Johnathan: Like, ‘Can you guys shut up?’

Christine: She does a great job. Beth is terrific.

John: As Chris just takes him apart.

Johnathan: This is exactly the tone of this show.

Christine: Oh.

Johnathan: Right here.

[Laughter]

John: Did she kick him?

Christine: The flick of the ponytail.

Johnathan: Yeah, she worked the heel.

John: Yeah, just fantastic. And- I'm- wow, this is a great sequence. This is the first time I've seen that fight cut. That was wonderful.

Christine: It's good cutting in there, too.

Johnathan: The good money.

Christine: The good money, the good, good money.

John: Brian Gonosey right? Brian cut the hell out of this.

Christine: Brian, yes. My friend Brian.

Johnathan: Repeat on the snow.

John: Yeah. You only have so much- so much snow.

Johnathan: I know we need to get some more Boston shots for next year.

John: Totally legally, of course.

[Laughter]

Christine: I don't know what you're talking about.

Johnathan: It takes place in Boston, right? Shot in Portland.

John: Yes it does. Shot in Portland.

Christine: Look at the look on her face.

Johnathan: How convenient is this? ‘She'll be here in a minute.’ Door opens, she comes in, she’s got a bag of money.

Christine: Only got so much time.

Johnathan: Exactly.

John: Hey 42 minutes. 42 minutes, kids.

Johnathan: 42 minutes.

[Laughter]

John: We’re moving.

Johnathan: It would've been cut anyway.

John: I know! It would've been cut.

Christine: I love how Alan just let the panic kind of- when we cut back to him, he just lets the panic kind of rise from his chest up to his face, essentially.

John: This was a big thing, too, figuring out exactly what the mark was, how-

Christine: Every mark I pitched was the most elaborate, most flirtily designed-

Johnathan: I know, in real life it should be the subtlest mark of all.

Christine: I was all over that.

Johnathan: It should be the most subtle mark of all.

John: Look at that, look at that.

Johnathan: This is a wonderful beat. This, and what Tim does after this, is fabulous.

John: And- but I love- just the way he just wipes his mouth as he gets up, he's like, ‘Alright, we're gonna have to do some violence.’

Christine: ‘We’re doing this. We're doing this.’

John: ‘Don't want to do this, but we have to do this’. And then the-

Johnathan: ‘Ok fine, let me talk my way out of it, if not-’

John: This is a man with a back up plan. Yeah, and Alan really dug in here, sort of just the rage of having his beautiful little plan taken away.

Johnathan: He's a stage boy. This is Eugene O'Neill stuff coming up.

John: Yeah exactly, park your cameras and let the people talk. And these guys were great.

Christine: These guys-

John: Also, great physical casting on these guys.

Christine: Second time he admits he's a loan shark right there, it's great.

John: They look like cops. I mean, it was really brilliant casting- they look like both cops and thugs, it was really nicely done.

Christine: They look like guys from the neighborhood. It worked out really well.

John: And again, one of the themes of the show is the bad guy is always hung by his own sin. You know, it's whatever sin you see him commit early has gotta be what shows up. Yeah, and this guy is fearless, I love this guy. I love them all.

[Laughter]

Christine: He's hilarious, look at that.

John: We have to bring these guys back.

Christine: We should.

Johnathan: They live there, they could easily-

Christine: I really think we should.

John: Actually, that was a problem, Odessa was from LA, and we want to recur the character and getting her up was impossible.

Johnathan: She wasn't from LA.

John: She was from LA.

Christine: Um, I don't know.

John: Pretty sure, yeah.

Johnathan: No no, she came in-

John: And I love he kind of drops the- he’s got that -

Johnathan: He’s like Muldoon.

John: He's got that long Dublin face. He's got the long, yeah.

Christine: He does, he's like a Joyce character, he's terrific.

John: He is.

Johnathan: No, she's a local who had moved to LA after.

John: That's right, that's right.

Christine: Oh that's what that was.

John: Yeah, he's got the Flanner O'Connell thing going on.

Johnathan: All three of these guys could easily come back.

John: Yeah.

Christine: Oh yeah.

Johnathan: It’s like Fred Guinn on the right, look at that.

John: Wow, you found the Portland Fred Guinn, amazing. This is one of the longer explanations- this is actually one of the longer flashbacks we do.

Christine: I love doing these flashes, and they- we always have to cut a whole bunch every time I write.

John: I know, I know.

Johnathan: This is a bleached bypass.

Christine: The first draft of this outline had so many flashes in it.

John: There was-

Christine: The handwritten one that I did-

[Laughter]

John: To be fair, Boylan, sometimes you will write an episode which is mostly flashes, with only two or three things happening in modern times.

Christine: I don't know what you're talking about. I'm trying to screw with your perception of time.

John: The theater thing sometimes gets a little out of control.

Johnathan: Well you milked that Guinness, didn't you?

Christine: What? It was a tiny Guinness.

John: It was a tiny Guinness. She is a tiny girl, it was a tiny Guinness.

Christine: It was a baby Guinness.

John: And this is- this is great. I love the fact that Nate becomes physically violent here.

Christine: Oh man.

Johnathan: Yeah.

John: This is- and I'm trying to remember where that came up in the room.

Christine: I forgot who pitched the finger breaking thing.

John: Cause it was originally the cops.

Johnathan: Tim got really involved in this. Tim was very excited about this part of the character, and this moment that's about- that we're all about to see.

John: I think I was the finger breaking, just because of the various times I'd seen it done.

Johnathan: Well no, it's a call back to the finger breaking, a callback-

John: No right, that's why we put it in the old days. But I was trying to remember exactly how we- we had multiple ways to get him out of this room. And then it was like, you know, we really- you really can't just chase him out.

Christine: Yeah.

John: You need somebody to lay the hurt on him.

Christine: He’s gotta have some damage.

John: And the person who has to do it has to be Nate. And that's great. Again, it backed into the whole- there's a seething angry vicious criminal under Nate Ford at all times.

Johnathan: Here it is- bam and bam!

Christine: Look at that.

John: He so digs in on the-

Christine: Look at Alan.

John: And Alan is so- cause I’ll tell you, and that was the advice I got back when I was in Montreal. A guy was in the mob, he was a bouncer, told me ‘You know what, all you gotta do is break a man's finger to get his attention for 5 minutes.’ I was like, wow.

Christine: That's good advice.

John: Really good advice. There's no pain like-

Johnathan: And ooh lights out.

Christine: He let loose with so many unholy screams during-

John: And there's something- actually important here, he breaks his finger at the end of the conversation.

Christine: Yeah.

John: That's an unpleasant thing to do. And the great bit, ‘You're exactly like your father.’ Ahh, that's so great.

Christine: Great breath there.

Johnathan: ‘None of us- I was at the ball game. Were you guys at the ball game?’

John: Huh? No.

Johnathan: That's what they're saying.

John: Oh!

Christine: Yeah ‘I was at the movies. Oh I was at the ball game’

John: ‘I was at the ball game.’ Oh, that's right

Christine: So the families can get the money back.

Johnathan: And then we tried desperately to get the snow to blow into the door on the exit. I’m not sure that we got it.

John: I don't think we got it. Why? ‘Cause it was 107 degrees in a warehouse!

Johnathan: It's 107, where are you guys going?

Christine: The backdoor to the alley, we covered it.

John: And the book, the ledger. And that was again, it's one of those things where you do research, how do loan sharks keep their records? They keep them in stupid coded legers!

Christine: Coded leger. It’s written in stupid pen and ink.

Johnathan: And here's the one of our regulars.

John: Yeah.

Johnathan: She's so reluctant to give up the money, it's brilliant.

Christine: It’s great.

[Laughter]

Johnathan: Here's a callback to the people in the beginning who have been ripped off.

John: He’s one of our regulars- if you watch, every episode he's at the bar. He's great; he's a local extra who kinda became the- mascot’s not the right word, but he really became, kind of, the extra heart, you know. And booze. Booze for everyone.

Johnathan: Shooters for everybody.

Christine: Hey, you know, end with booze we do get to [] here.

John: Somebody actually asked who drinks, who doesn't drink. Eliot drinks, Hardison doesn't drink well, Parker drinks but it doesn't affect her, Tara drinks a lot, and Nate of course is an alcoholic, just if you're keeping score.

Johnathan: What about Odessa?

Christine: Sophie?

John: Oh Sophie drinks but she only drinks girly- socially.

Christine: Socially. That's my girl.

Johnathan: You think?

John: Well when she's- yeah. She can put it away, but she prefers-

Christine: But she doesn't need to.

Johnathan: But she drinks neat booze.

John: She drinks neat booze. But you know, she's a woman who's trying to escape her past. You know, whatever she used to drink she doesn't drink anymore. I just- ‘No, no, I'm not gonna sleep with your niece at all.’ That was actually- in the original version was, she wandered off, you know, what you need to close up this beat. Yeah.

Johnathan: Ok let's sit down, we've-

Christine: Here we go.

John: She's great, she really is great. And the whole fathers thing here.

Johnathan: We even milked it with the look to the empty father’s seat.

Christine: Oh yeah, look to the chair.

Johnathan: Hopefully it stayed in the cut, let’s see.

John: I don’t know.

Christine: I believe it did.

John: They don't listen to you Frakes.

Christine: I don't know, we were both adamant about that.

Johnathan: Still doesn't matter.

Christine: Doesn’t matter.

John: We’re just puking up raw material for the brilliance of the editors.

Christine: The director was here and that chirpy girl, I don't know what they were saying. I think she was drunk, I'm not sure.

John: There's a lot about fathers in this season. Sort of looking at it there's a lot of- there’s Lost Heir, there's the season opener...

Christine: Every good show has daddy issues.

John: Wow that was a really weird voice you said that in; that’s a little disturbing.

Johnathan: My fathers the reason I'm here.

Christine: Aww.

John: Yeah, there you go.

Johnathan: Chair.

John: Chair, there you go you got the chair.

Christine: Cut to the stool. Dad’s office.

John: And he's gonna drink to it, yup.

Johnathan: Cause he hasn't had enough to drink today.

John: No he has not. Well once you start, really-

Christine: Really, what's the point of stopping?

John: Oh that's nice, they've cleaned up behind them, while they're talking.

Johnathan: High and wide.

John: High and wide.

Christine: Times out really nicely.

John: Nicely done.

Christine: Real time.

John: Anything you wanna say to the nice folks?

Johnathan: See you next season.

Christine: See you next season.

John: Thank you Mr. Frakes, that was wonderful. Thank you Boylan, that was wonderful.

Christine: Thanks guys.

John: And again an almost impossible show to do. Usually an impossible job on any show and- on any series and you guys made it one of the best of the 2 years, congratulations.

Johnathan: You're a gentleman and a scholar and a physicist.

[Laughter]

Christine: And a bit of a comedian as well.

John: Every now and then.

Johnathan: I can see you on that stage in the back room.

John: I'm not doing it.

Johnathan: What do you mean?

Christine: You are doing it.

Johnathan: John.

John: You know what? This screams for a Gilligan cut, ‘I’m not doing it!’

#Leverage #Leverage TNT #Leverage Audio Commentary Transcripts #Audio Commentary #Transcripts #Parker #Alec Hardison #Elliot Spencer #Nate Ford #Sophie Deveraux #Season 2 #Episode 11 #Season 2 Episode 11 #The Bottle Job

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bbugyu · 4 years

Text

finding something to do + kim mingyu

you had spent your better years bored with mingyu, and he thought holding your hand felt like holding his fleeting youth.

wc.4088 | almost smut, mostly fluff, friends to lovers/uni au, fem reader, that one trope where there is mutual pining but both of them think the other is gay, maybe like half an ounce of angst if you squint Really Hard, lots o swears

i usually make my fics hella neutral as far as gender and size and orientation goes but hahahaha this ones for the average sized bi girls! also just realized that i stopped using capitalization in my fics and yk what? im fine with it. this fic is based off of the song of the same name by hellogoodbye.

“stop honking, other people live here.”

mingyu grinned at you through the half-open passenger window, leaning over to pop open the door. the handle had never recovered from a giant cup of soda crashing into the side of his ride in the middle of a particularly rowdy summer shenanigan, the sticky substance soaking into the mechanics before he had gotten the chance to hose it down in a friend's driveway at 2am. now, you had to wait for him to open it from the inside on all future shenanigans, and you could only roll the window down half way, lest you have to laugh at mingyu aggressively pulling on the window between his palms as you pulled on the motorized switch to coerce it back into the closed position. you slid into the co-pilot seat and looked over to your best friend.

"if you answered your texts i wouldn't have to honk."

you rolled your eyes, tugging on the seatbelt. "go, gyu."

he laughed and shifted into drive, turning up his stereo as he pulled away from your apartment building, hand returning to the stick to shift up a gear. "thanks for coming."

"what else was i gonna do?" you slipped the slides off your socked feet and pulled your legs to sit cross-legged. "i finished rewatching avatar."

"study, maybe?"

you looked at him. he was right, finals were right around the corner, but you had an uncharacteristically light load this quarter (due to you not realizing you needed approval for one course before registration and it filling before you could sign up) and you weren't too worried about the three tests you would have to take in a couple weeks. "could say the same to you."

mingyu let out another laugh, suddenly singing along to the song as he ran a hand through his hair. you smiled at his profile, then pulled out your phone to update your instagram story. as you moved the camera over to mingyu from the streetlight-lit road ahead of you, he laughed midway through a lyric and practically yelled "mwoya" at you, gripping the wheel with both hands and jumping in his seat.

you laughed hysterically, frantically saving the video before pointing the screen at him. he turned down the music to watch it, eyes flickering between your phone and the road. he laughed at the way it cut off on both of you screaming. "what was that?"

you giggled, swiping through filters. "you being dumb."

"you love me."

"you're right."

mingyu smiled at that, adjusting the stereo volume again, bobbing his head to the rhythm as he drove to the one convenience store in your town that sold his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream, a mission he had called upon you for at 11:30pm. when it switched over to a song you knew, mingyu noticed your subconscious humming to the tune and a few lyrics falling out of your lips, the wind from the open window whipping through your hair.

by the time you reached a small parking lot across town, you had yawned probably half a dozen times.

"tired?" mingyu pouted as he rolled up the windows and unbuckled his seatbelt. "sorry for dragging you out."

you shook your head, following suit and pulling yourself out of the car. "i slept too late, i think. i'll be fine."

you followed mingyu across the quiet street to the convenience store the two of you frequented perhaps too often, finding yourself there after late night study sessions or mid-barhop for ramen, snacks, and most importantly, the mint choco ice cream bar of mingyu's affections.

after perusing the options as if you hadn't been there earlier in the week, you picked out an ice cream bar as well as a couple bags of chips. you walked up behind mingyu at the register as he was pulling out his wallet.

"i'll pay if you come over and play smash," he said, nodding at your hands full of snacks.

you eyed him. "what's the catch?"

"you can't be mad when i play meta knight."

you groaned, but put your things on the counter for the cashier that was likely the same age as you both to scan. "fine. i'll still beat you."

mingyu grinned at you, and you snagged your ice cream bar off the counter as he paid, the other snacks getting put in a plastic bag. you grabbed the bag and held it open as mingyu retrieved his own ice cream, both of you peeling them open as you exited the convenience store.

"mm," you let out, mouth full of ice cream as you leaned against the metal bar meant to lock up bikes on the sidewalk. "it's nice out tonight."

mingyu agreed, biting into his treat. "it's refreshing but not too cold."

you nodded, watching cars pass on the street. "i can't believe it's almost summer already."

"me neither," he said, squatting in front of you as he ate. "we're gonna be seniors next year."

you groaned. "have you decided if you're doing summer quarter?"

he shook his head. "i decided against it. i only really have to take one extra course next year so it didn't feel worth it."

you nodded, looking down at him. he was looking to his left, absentmindedly watching someone walk their dog across the street.

after the ice cream was finished and you threw away your wrappers, mingyu cursed slightly at the fact that he still managed to get his finger sticky despite doing his best to avoid meltage. after he popped open your door, he dug in the glovebox for some wet naps, playfully knocking your knees aside as you tried to sit. you laughed, waiting for him to be done so you could put the bag of snacks on the floor in front of you.

when you met mingyu sophomore year, your hair was shorter and he was blonde. he had sat next to you in your shared ecology lab and promptly fell asleep before the class had even started, and you had to nudge him awake when the professor was handing out the syllabus.

"gah, fuck, i'm up," he waved a massive hand in your face, blinking away his sleep before focusing on you with furrowed brows. "you're not seokmin."

seokmin was his roommate, you learned, and also met a few weeks later when you went over to their dorm to work on assignments together. they've since upgraded to a compact but efficient three bedroom apartment and acquired another roommate. you stared out the window into the night sky as mingyu drove to said apartment, blinking heavily at the lure of a nap. you pulled your knees up to your chest and tried to listen to the song playing from the stereo.

only moments later, mingyu glanced over and noticed that your eyes had fluttered shut, your head lolling against the window. he wondered, staring at you in awe, how much longer he could pretend he wasn't in love with you.

when you and mingyu had first gotten to know each other, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, until you found out he had a boyfriend. even after they split almost four months later, and you had been there to bring him chicken and beer while he fumbled with the drawstrings of his sweatpants and rubbed his swollen eyes with the back of his hand, you decidedly resigned any feelings for him, knowing it was a lost cause for you to pine after a guy that didn't even like girls. hell, you barely even liked boys - you had gone on dates with six different girls, yet not a single guy since you came to university, and mingyu had sat on your bed while you tried to get ready, giving a concise "try again" when you showed him an oversized sweatshirt.

"why not this?" you asked, groaning.

"you have good proportions, bitch. show 'em off."

rolling your eyes, you rooted around in your closet for something less shapeless. your style had always skewed a little athletic, a little hip-hop. you bought mostly mens fit shirts, making the task slightly more difficult. you found a nice pair of high waisted jeans you hadn't worn in a while and paired it with a drop shoulder tee and a turtleneck, finally getting the approval of your best friend.

all of the facts laid in front of him led mingyu to believe you were completely and utterly gay, and even if you weren't, your taste in women suggested he was the exact opposite of your type. you liked petite girls. girls with long hair and that wore skirts and lots of rings. the kind of girls that you had to lean down to kiss.

so he continued to try out the pool of eligible bachelors in your area that were within a respectable age range. he had even tried to date some girls, but every time they tried to suggest the dates go further, he would think of the way his best friend's fingers had sent electricity through his entire body just by brushing an eyelash off his lip, or how you would trace the veins that ran through his wrist as you watched a movie together on your couch. the way your touch set his skin on fire. the way he wished he could just admit the way he felt about you.

he always smiled and said he'd call them sometime. he never did. it wasn't fair to them, but neither was him only ever asking them out because they reminded him of you somehow.

guys were easier, he thought. they didn't remind him of you.

mingyu was so caught up in the sight of you sleeping that he absolutely ran a red. he cursed under his breath when he realized the light he was passing under had been yellow for longer than he had thought, thinking how lucky he was that the cross street was empty. good thing he was almost home.

"hey, sleepyhead," he said when you stretched suddenly as he pulled into his parking spot. "do you wanna go home?"

you shook your head, yawning. "no, i need to eat chips."

he laughed and killed the engine. "you left a pair of house shorts here and you can borrow a shirt," he said, suggesting you crash in his bed when you got too tired for smash.

"what, you don't wanna carry me home?"

mingyu slammed the car door shut and shoved his hand in his pocket. "i'd rather not, no."

you stretched again, a hand reaching out to ruffle his dark hair as he tried to punch in the door code for you to enter his building. "mean."

he laughed at you again, leading you up the three flights of stairs to his apartment.

"hey, minghao," you said, waving at the shadowy figure that was seemingly melting into the couch, illuminated by the tv.

he raised a hand in acknowledgment, sitting with his neck at a 90 degree angle, a movie with subtitles on, and his phone face down on his chest. "yo."

"wanna play smash?" mingyu asked.

"no thanks."

mingyu dropped his keys on the kitchen counter. "we're playing smash."

"you're funny."

you laughed, and mingyu pouted. "please, myungho?"

minghao finally looked at his roommate. "i'm watching annihilation. the switch is handheld for a reason."

you watched mingyu roll his eyes with a smirk on your lips. he went over to the switch dock by the tv and grabbed the console, sticking his tongue out at hao. you giggled, following mingyu down the short hall to his room as minghao waved you both off.

"have i said that i like hao a lot?"

"yes," mingyu said. "like, every time you come over."

you smiled, throwing open his dresser and carding through the shirts that would surely be massive on you. "well i do."

the switch got tossed onto his bed and he sneaked around you to grab a pair of sweatpants from the drawer above the one you were looking in. he also pulled out the pair of shorts you had left, putting them on top of the dresser. "i'm getting naked now."

you shook your head lightly, knowing he was only changing his pants, but kept your back to him out of respect anyways. you picked up the shorts. "did you wash these?"

"yeah, i threw 'em in with my laundry last week."

you nodded, spotting the color you had been looking for. "aha!" you pulled on the ashy gray shirt, revealing one of your favorite things you had ever convinced mingyu to buy. an extremely soft, lightly distressed shirt with a tasteful rip along the neckline. "i'm getting naked now."

"clear," mingyu said, letting you know he wasn't looking as he flopped onto his bed, propping up the switch on his bedside table and setting up the controllers.

you pulled off your loose sweatshirt and swapped it for the borrowed shirt, then shoved the denim shorts down your legs, laughing lightly at how your sleep shorts completely disappeared under the shirt. you turned around, stretching out your arms to show how large the shirt was on you. "look."

mingyu rolled onto his back and propped himself on an elbow to look at you, giggling as you swam in his shirt. outwardly, he smiled, but internally, he thought this was simultaneously the worst and best idea he had ever had.

you looked absolutely stunning in his clothes, he thought, but only said that you were cute. he ignored the familiar feeling in his stomach and handed you a controller as you crawled onto his bed, settling on your stomach next to him.

he had to stop putting himself in this position. you were far too pretty for him to forget his feelings towards you.

but maybe that's what he wanted. maybe he didn't want to forget his feelings. maybe the few times you had told him his dates were attractive weren't just objective reassurances. maybe he held onto the sliver of hope that you could possibly be attracted to him, too.

you slammed your face into the bed as the game loaded. "why are all switch load times utter ass?"

mingyu adjusted so that he was laying on his side with an arm propping him up and flicked the back of your head. "because the console can fit in my palm."

your hand went up to swat at the culprit of the flick, and you pouted as you lifted your head to look at him. "that's not fair, your hands are huge." you wiggled onto your elbows to grab his wrist, pressing your palms together. "see?"

mingyu laughed, feeling his cheeks heat up. "well, you have baby hands, so." he punctuated his point by curling his finger over yours. you pouted again, then slipped your fingers between his, thinking about how nice his warm hand felt over yours.

you blinked, then pulled your hand away and grabbed the joycon as the game finally loaded the skippable intro, hoping you weren't blushing too much as you cleared your throat. mingyu stared at your pink cheeks for a moment, his mind reeling. was he seeing something that wasn't there? or was his hope in you validated?

you were clicking through the menu and felt his eyes on you, and all you wanted to do was hide behind your hair and avoid eye contact. you nearly jumped when mingyu cleared his throat.

"hey, i have something i've been meaning to ask you."

your eyes met his briefly. "shoot."

"do you…" mingyu paused, trying to think of the right way to phrase his question. "i know you have exes that are guys, but is that something you're, like… still into?"

your ears burned and you wiggled until you could sit back on your own legs, fiddling with the hem of the shirt you stole and hesitating to make eye contact. "you mean, being with guys?"

"yeah," he said, watching you intently with his brows furrowed.

"yeah, i mean, i guess?" you shrugged. "i like both."

mingyu nodded slowly, watching your eyes as they stared at the wall across his small room. your cheeks were a rosy pink, and you were chewing on your lip. "me too."

you looked at him finally, your eyes wide. "what?"

he gave you a crooked smile. "i like guys and girls, too."

if you were blushing before, now you were blazing. "oh, my god, i'm an idiot."

he laughed. "what, did you think i was, like, totally gay?"

"shut up," you threw yourself down onto his bed, hiding your face in the blanket. in your defense, he had definitely called himself gay before, but you definitely called yourself gay constantly, so maybe you shouldn't put so much weight in those words. "shut up, i'm embarrassed. i don't want to talk about it."

hearing mingyu laugh next to you made you feel like you were on fire, then you felt the ghosting of fingers on your arm. you froze. mingyu's voice was soft when he spoke again. "do you wanna talk about how i have a massive crush on you?"

you slowly raised your head to look at him, cheeks burning red. he gave you a small smile before you choked out a "huh?"

"i ran a red earlier," he said suddenly, his fingers moving from your arm to absentmindedly brush your hair out of your face, then to your shoulder, then back. it was a reassuring touch, one you had felt from him before, but you still were caught off guard by his sudden succession of confessions. "you were sleeping and i couldn't stop looking at you. i totally could have crashed the car."

"dude, what the fuck." you stared at him, then lowered your voice to imitate him. "'hey i have a crush on you and i almost killed us both because of it.' that's you, that's what you sound like right now."

mingyu laughed in your face and you couldn't help the chuckle that fell out of your mouth. "sorry i almost killed us."

"i guess i can forgive you," you said, picking at your nails suddenly despite them being clean. "especially because i might have a crush on you, too."

mingyu kept staring at you with a fond smile, and you wondered if he could also hear how hard your heart was beating. "can i kiss you?"

you looked at him, trying not to stare at his lips. you nodded, almost hurriedly. his hand pulled against your back as you rolled your body to face him, and your hand reached out for his jaw as he pulled you into him. and when his lips crashed into yours, you yelped slightly, melting into him almost immediately. they were plush against yours, and he was gentle as he pushed your back onto the mattress, adjusting to hover over you slightly. when you let your head fall back onto the bed, he grinned at your blown out pupils and swollen lips, buzzing at the way your hands curled around around his neck, fingers digging into the hair at his nape. he adjusted again, a hand finding your waist as he pulled back to let you swing your leg across his lap. you pulled him back over you, enjoying the way his hips hit the back of your thighs as he caged you in with an elbow by your shoulder. you stared up at him, heart racing, eyes flicking down to his lips too many times for him to not take the hint.

mingyu had always enjoyed pleasing you. this definitely felt like the next natural progression.

he dove into you, and your arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders. mingyu was a hugger, and he also liked wearing very little clothing when he worked out, so you knew what he looked like under the plain white tee. knew what he felt like. but suddenly - with his hands slipping under what was technically his shirt to properly feel your waist, with how his tongue fought with yours - you really felt him for the first time. the way his shoulder muscles rippled just beneath the skin as he adjusted, clearly trying to not make his growing bulge so obvious. you considered the fact that you might get to see how much leg day really benefited, considering how much he posted about it with sweaty post-workout pictures on his story.

mingyu felt your thighs squeeze around his hips, pulling back slightly. "is this okay?"

"is it?" you responded, a hand pulling back to fall on his jaw. "i've wanted you for ages."

he laughed lightly. "god, we're idiots."

you had no time to respond before he was kissing you again, his hips rolling into yours, pulling a surprised moan from you. he ate it up, his fingers gripping your waist tighter at the sound. you felt his girth as it pressed against you, and you gasped. when was the last time you had been with a guy? high school?

when mingyu's teeth bit down on your lip, you were really glad he was the guy you were unconsciously waiting for.

he tugged on your hips as he rolled onto his back, pulling you to straddle his lap. you giggled slightly, settling back into the open mouthed kisses as he ran his hands from your ass up your back, slipping under the sports bra you were wearing.

then there was a knock. you yelped, burying your face in his shoulder as you heard the door swing open. "make room for king k r- oh shit!"

you laughed into mingyu's neck as he yelled for seokmin to get the hell out, his hands tugging the hem of the stolen shirt over your butt in an attempt to shield it from view. you heard him squeak out an "i'm sorry!" as the door shut again.

"i'll kill him."

you exhaled, the laughter still on your lips as you looked at his profile from where your cheek pressed against his shoulder. "bet he thinks we're secretly dating."

mingyu laughed, scratching an eyebrow before returning his palm to your ass. "not a secret now."

"oh, so we're dating now?"

mingyu craned his neck to look at you. "is that not what was going to happen?"

you giggled, sitting up and putting your hands on his chest. you adjusted your knees, fully aware of how the movement would rub you against his still hard bulge. "we have both fucked people without dating them afterwards, kim mingyu."

"ah," he said, digging his fingers into your soft ass and rutting into you gently, making you gasp. "we're gonna fuck? i thought we were just joking."

you slapped his chest, giggling still as you rolled your hips. "if you don't wanna, i could ask hao-"

"oh, shut up," he said, pulling you down to kiss him. "if you liked myungho like that you would have tried it ages ago."

you smiled, your thumb running over his adams apple as you placed gentle kisses on his jaw. "sweetie, are we jealous?"

"i don't deserve this, you know?" mingyu pulled your hips against him again, a low grunt tumbling from his beautiful mouth. "i haven't put my dick in a girl since i met you and now i'm with you and you're talking about my roommate? this seems extremely mean."

you giggled again, then placed your lips on his again. he instantly kissed you back, one hand leaving your ass to go to the back of your neck. "you're the only guy i ever think about," you whispered, getting repeatedly interrupted by mingyu's needy lips on yours.

the wolf-like grin that broke onto his face sent chills down your spine. "let's keep it that way."

seokmin's hand was still on the doorknob, his wide eyes blinking, when minghao paused his movie and sat up to poke his head out and look down the hall. "the hell was that?"

he puffed out his cheeks as he walked back into the living room, his palms clapping gently. "i thought you said y/n came over to play smash?"

minghao's eyebrow quirked up. "she did."

the eldest sat on the couch. "i thought mingyu was gay?"

"what?" minghao looked down the hall again. "wait, what? were they-" he stopped when he heard a muffled groan that was far too familiar.

seokmin grabbed the remote and pressed play, scratching his cheek as he turned up the volume. "what are we watching? catch me up."

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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REVELATIONS, REVELATIONS | UPDATE #1

Hello y’all! I refuse to believe it’s been 3 and a half months since I last made an update post for this novel because time is not real :) whoops! This has actually been sat in my drafts for like a month though

A rundown of things that happened:

We have a new title! I already went into the meta and possible interpretations (it’s ~ambiguous~), so if you want you can read about that HERE.

I did 3 weeks of Nano and wrote 15k words! On the site I recorded 15053 but I think it was more 15.5k? I’ve edited the original doc now so idk but I’m v happy with that!

After that I took a break and a lot of Life Things happened re a certain pandemic that is taking :) all my motivation :) so I didn’t return to drafting until January. I also really struggled to progress with the story and decided the best thing was to revisit what I already had and work on that

It’s not that the original chapters weren’t working, I was just trying to understand the story for the first time and also Nano was such a hazy blur and I’m 99% sure November didn’t happen. I probably won’t revisit a section this intensely again until I’ve finished the draft but at this stage it really helped because the more I worked on it, the more I understood where it had to go next - I know the structure (for now), the basics for the middle and how the story ends :) hehe :) and I don’t think I’d had those revelations (aha) without revisiting this first part. I got to fall in love with the story all over again and I’m very happy with where it’s going!

This intro is already getting so long so I’m just going to jump straight into it because this update is LONG. I’m talking about all the chapters today even though not all of them are new, but since I’ve learnt a lot about them and this is officially update #1 post-nano, it makes sense to talk about all of them! I’m also going to do a new taglist because I see this as a new set of updates also I am awful at keeping up with taglists so! I’m just tagging friends who have already expressed interest + mutuals who I’m like 99% sure want to stay on so! please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@kowlazovdi @isherwoodj @avi-burton-writing @pamsdrabbles @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @svpphicwrites @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @writerlywonders @haldimilks @alicewestwater @piyawrites @coffeeandcalligraphy @shaelinwrites

usual content warnings for religious trauma and cult discussion, specific CWs will come before excerpts!

So I’m currently working with four parts, and I’ve extended the timeline from one year to four years. This suits the story much better BUT pretty much everything here was written before that decision and I do not have the energy to restructure all of it right now :) Each part is split into two sections, one for each POV. So four parts, 8 sections, Felix and Dorothy get four sections each. I let the structure grow with the story but this one is working very well!

Also I started setting my pages to light green and it was LIFE CHANGING. Much kinder on the eyes and just looks so nice?? Calming?? This post is your sign to set your page colour to light green like LOOK

So we have a prologue now!! The story made a lot more sense once I added this because originally the information we learn was just shoehorned into Chapter 1 in a flashback when really we needed to know this information going into it. That being said I struggled with this for a bit just because to justify a prologue I need that information to be conveyed in a way that is completely unique to the rest of the narrative so I didn’t want to just write this as a flashback. I ended up writing it in 2nd person and it came out in a way where it’s not clear which twins POV it is? Like it’s more of a fusion of both of them where neither of them have their own individual identity beyond “the twins” yet. I can’t tell if this is my funky POV peak or a clarity nightmare but I like it! I want it to only be ~500 words so we can take the risk.

In this they’re fourteen and they do a “blood pact” as a way to symbolically cut themselves from their family (aka: their father) whilst they’re still tethered to it. I really love it because not only is it exactly what these slightly unhinged-but-havent-tapped-into-it-yet, co-dependent-and-dont-realise-it kids would do but it immediately brings up the question of family and what family actually is. I’ve also realised a huge idea in this story is the idea of the tangible and for them, the concept of family and blood isn’t tangible so they struggle to recognise its significance (not that it. has any for them in the first place.) but their relationship, seeing each other bleed and pressing the cuts together is. The writing itself is kinda wonky because of the whole funky clarity nightmare POV but here’s a little taste of the ending:

cw: blood

You’ll slink back into your family room to clean and plaster each other’s hands and you’ll ask yourselves: which bloodstains came from who? Who bled the most and who stopped first? Who will come up with the story for the cuts on your palms and who will dispose the bloodied towel? Who is Dorothy without Felix and who is Felix without Dorothy?

Shiny new first chapter! Originally this was in Dorothy’s POV but now it’s switched to Felix and instead of just showing their reunion (which turns out is....very anticlimactic and not appropriate for an opening lol??) we actually explore Felix’s thoughts an actions after he decides to escape the cult, which was a very impulsive decision and spans about a day and a half. This one is definitely gonna take a few drafts to get right because it’s such a delicate but intense event to write and I’m content with the fact that it’s not There Yet but the prose is! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and it really helped me get back into the swing of loving this story. There’s something very delicate about it but also very troubling under the surface. The opening gave me a lot of trouble, but the first line hits!

The day Felix decides to leave the sun glows the same, and the pine trees breathe the same, and the chapel cross stabs the sky the same.

Ironically, a good chunk of the chapter happens outside the cult, as Felix decides to spend his final day taking Lola - a woman his age who is literally the only person he likes lmao - to one of the nearby towns. Whilst the main function of the chapter is to introduce the cult itself, it’s also to show how normalised leaving actually is - it’s just every time he’s left has been temporary, and every time he has left, he still feel separated from this “outside world”. They go to a candy store and a thrift store - where Felix lies about his mom (who he hasn’t seen in 20 years) being in hospital so he can use a phone :) Lola is a new character so I don’t have much to say on her, but all I can say is they are wlw and mlm solidarity but also she knows how to read him

“I don’t know why Dotty and I loved this place so much - we always got toothaches.”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“These apple ones are nice, but I think the lime is my favourite. Do you think the apple or the lime is nicer?”

“I think you’re leaving, but I also think you’re scared, so you’re pretending that I’m going to leave with you and that’s why you wanted to go to town. You chose the candy shop because this is where you went the first time you left, but this time you’re not coming back. Does that scare you, Fel?”

And here is my favourite paragraph in the whole chapter because <3 what the fuck <3 and if pine trees are a key Felix symbol no they aren’t 👁️ yes they are

cw: falling out a window? pushing yourself out a window? description of bones breaking

The day Felix decides the leave, when the clouds bleed amber, he pushes the scratched mahogany dresser so it lines with the windowsill, lies on top and hangs his head out. It’s never comfortable, but it’s always peaceful: sometimes cars murmur on nearby backroads, sometimes a wind chime flutters, sometimes brush rabbits rustle in shrubbery and they all breathe the same oxygen as him. He closes his eyes, inhales the pine air, and plays God: pushes himself further out, an inch at a time, until his shoulders cross the line and he wonders what bones would break if he fell. Would he break both arms or one, both legs or one? Would he break his spine? Which vertebra would crack, and how many? Would he feel them all in one big strike, or all the individual bones burst like popping candy? Evening breeze whispers against his face and he could do it right now, leap out the window and if he didn’t break his legs or back he could run to the bushes, to the pine trees, to the road, the town over East or West, the county line.

If Felix hit the ground, would it be because of a freak fall, or because he pushed himself out?

We have to laugh because I’m pretty sure I said in my Nano update that this chapter was the strongest so far besides one scene but when I looked back that scene <3 took up 80% of the fucking chapter <3 So I just said fuck it I’ll rewrite the whole thing for fun!!!! And I love it!!! It’s so jarring compared to Chapter One and that’s the point!! Everything is so over saturated and originally that was just to convey the absolute shock Felix gets from the Major Impulsive Life Decision He Just Made, but now I think it’s intentional on his part and it goes back to the idea of the tangible: whilst he didn’t grow up totally isolated this is still a new life for him, and he has nothing to latch onto, so he looks to his surroundings and hyper-focuses and latches onto it because it’s something that’s now tangible and accessible to him so he sees it in this very bright, romanticised way (the romanticisation of San Francisco is very amusing to me but it’s also very relevant). But even with that he still distances himself from this environment still - the same way he did whilst living in the cult. He has no idea how he wants to exist in this world and he doesn’t even know how to exist yet.

And so it became clockwork: eyes burst open at two, three, four in morning, doesn’t bother trying to fall back to sleep. Lurk into the kitchen, make a coffee or water or whiskey. Sit under the fritzing lightbulb with no shade, think about everything and nothing and everything and nothing. Or go for a smoke, inhale the vapours until it hurts his chest, breathe in the cool air until it hurts his teeth, wander around the block until it hurts his feet. Sneak back into a room that doesn’t belong to him in an apartment that doesn’t belong to him in a city that doesn’t belong to him. Count the bumps in the popcorn ceiling until footsteps sneak down the hall – Dorothy leaving a room that doesn’t belong to her. Join his sister back at the kitchen, she complains that they need to replace the lightbulb. Over pulpy orange juice and scrambled eggs on toast, she retells her dream and lists the possible meanings and he lists his plans for that day on how to immerse in the outside world, familiarise himself with the city until it belongs to him. Travel by trolley for the first time, eat seafood at the waterfront for the first time. Bump into a cherry-headed conure parrot by chance. Climb Twin Peaks and gaze at the new view of home. Trace the outline of translucent mountains in the air and pretend you’ll ever hike them; trace the outline of high rises in the air and pretend you know the people in them. He asks Dorothy when he’ll stop feeling like a tourist – she has no answer for him.

(context: Dorothy’s roommate, Jolie, is out of town at this point, so Dorothy tells Felix to take her room whilst she takes Jolie’s and they’ll sort it out later. Dorothy has no problem sleeping in Jolie’s bed because her and Jolie are Very Good Friends)

I also realised that, in the nicest way possible to November me, that this chapter was so damn boring because it’s very dialogue heavy but in every dialogue moment they are literally just 🧍 doing nothing. So I wrote a scene as a half-joke of Just Met Like Three Hours Ago Beau and Felix going to the arcade and it saved this chapter. It is SO fun but it also comes straight after this very emotionally intense moment and it’s really interesting to see that reach its zenith and then just. fizzle out but linger in the background? I love this scene but I also can’t take it too seriously because they play Frogger and @aetherwrites joked that the game’s a metaphor for Felix leaving the cult and I love her and hate her because she is so right I can picture the LIT1000 seminar where that analysis would be made unironically and it’d be ME who makes it and I am so close to just running with that for real. Also these two aren’t love at first sight but the chemistry is so loud like did you two meet today or have you been married for eight years and own five dogs together what’s the truth? Anyway here’s Felix murdering Beau on sight

“You know, you could’ve warned me that you’d be that good,” Beau says.

“It’s not that difficult, you could’ve warned me that you’d be that bad.”

Beau leans across to shuffle through cassette tapes in the glove compartment. “I’m not, you just got lucky. I let you win.”

“But it’s not even competitive. You just died seven times in a row.”

I’m a little unsure of the pacing for this chapter now because its effectiveness lies in the fact it takes place a week after the previous, and my job with this section post-draft is to stretch it out longer since it only spans three weeks. I’m hoping I can make it work where there’s little time between Chapter 1 & 2 but still cover more time in chapters 3-5 because I think that’d be jarring in the best way? Like the absolute intensity of that initial week quickly dissolving and suddenly he’s been living this life for months he didn’t notice go by. Again <3 a problem for post draft me <3

I don’t have much to say about this one because in Nano I didn’t even finish it, and now I have but it’s still <3 giving me trouble <3 - however I’ve realised this is probably the most important chapter at this stage of the novel because it’s the first full chapter with just the twins, trying to have a bonding moment and catch up but only learning that they a) love each other b) can’t stand each other whilst not realising just yet that they are c) extremely co-dependent. I like to call this novel multiple plot threads in a trench coat and that’s definitely it, the twins have their own individual plot threads separate to one another, but if there’s a central plot (and there kinda is?? its a surprise :) ) at its essence is them realising how fucked up their relationship is, but wanting to rectify that and trying to understand the difference between a tangled and toxic relationship.

This chapter introduces that each character has a key symbol that’s attached to the world somehow and Felix has chapters like these in his arc where he tries to navigate the state of their relationship (so there’s one later on titled “Ocean (Beau)”) and his associations with them. We have to laugh here because I was really like “oh Dorothy is sapphic so I’ll make her obsessed with the moon” but then it became a major symbol in the story <3 Dorothy IS obsessed with the moon, and Felix is frustrated because he can’t see it the way she does and he feels like part of him is missing because of that, when it’s just a different perspective but nooo these two need to have unhealthy co-dependency and then get mad when they’re unhealthily co-dependent on each other :/ Anyway I’d just like to talk about how Felix’s need to be like his sister in this chapter is demonstrated through a symbol that’s attached way more to her than it is to him even though in the prose he describes the moon as this fragile, breakable thing which is the complete opposite as how Dorothy would and lets talk about the blade mirroring the prologue!!!!

He closed an eye and pointed the blade at the moon. If he could, it’d be so easy: surgeons precision, swift wrist flick, carved and plucked from the sky. Laid out on his palm like tissue paper, half translucent and as breakable as skin - a birthday present for Dorothy, if he doesn’t tear it. He’ll try not to, but it’d be so easy.

In further development of the Moon Imagery, I’ve started using a lot of Star Imagery with Felix and a lot of general space imagery in both of their POVs and I’m delighted to say I have no idea what the meta means with that but I like it!! It fits the story very well and they’re probably mirroring each other or something!

This little chapter taught me that I need to be flexible with form <3 this was originally meant to be the final scene of the last chapter, and I was so hyped because it was one of the first scenes I conceptualised, but then it ~sucked~. However I didn’t realise until recently that it sucked because I was writing it in a traditional storytelling form - which most of this book benefits from, but this moment certainly does! not! I’m really glad because I think this book is the perfect playground for experimental form - although here it’s relatively simple though, most of the setup for this happens at the end of the previous chapter and then this is just all the information condensed as much as possible. This chapter is focused on memories so it really works for it to be cut off from the previous which is in the fictive present, and Felix’s perception of memories right now are ~a little jarring~

The final scene of Moon (Dotty) depicts Felix and Dorothy breaking into a park at 4am, promptly having an argument that results in Dorothy leaving, and Felix sat next to a fountain picking pennies out of it and trying to associate a memory with the year on the back - this chapter is those memories and this introduces the fluid relationship characters have with their past. For Felix, he’s seeing the last 20+ years from a bird eyes view in a very sporadic way and it’s starting to sink in that those 20+ years actually Happened. Some of the memories are very distanced, others are as intense as flashbacks, and some are a mixture of the two. This one is very interesting to me because he completely separates himself from the memory halfway through Fel do you wanna talk about this (unfortunately I cannot drop the name because of plot <3)

cw: light/implied homophobia

IN GOD WE TRUST / 1978

The first time Felix held a boys hand was in 1978 in the back pew at morning service. It was the first time [redacted]’s father preached and they got stuck in the back because they arrived late, because they laid in the grass together, wearing each other’s identical pecan coloured blazers as sunrise peeled back the night, and they slunk into the back of service like ghosts everyone could see and maybe they knew why they were late. [Redacted]’s father had a razor voice and he made sure every word sliced into his son and his son interlocked fingers with the boy next to him. His son didn’t look at the boy he held hands with the same way he’ll pretend his blazer is his and not the boys and the same way he didn’t look at the boy the first time they kissed behind the chapel building and the same way he didn’t look at the boy during Bible study for the week after.

Whilst I’d say in Chapter 2 the chemistry between Beau and Felix is as clear as day this is the first instance where Felix’s queerness is explicitly introduced and I’m taking this chance to say this book gets more queer every fucking week. Like I think in the last updates I was like ohhh sexuality doesn’t play much into Felix’s arc and know it’s like 99% of his damn arc and we LOVE it. But at this point he doesn’t realise like when I tell you guys this man is so repressed

I am literally only putting this here because I talk about all the other chapters and it’s weird to me to leave one out. Also because the graphic and title is pretty. Not gonna lie I love making these posts and that is 10% to ramble about meta 90% making pretty graphics that is literally just cropping photos on Unsplash and putting Garamond text over them <3

Anyway this was originally Lessons in Holy and when I revisited that chapter I realised it was so fucking messy and I tried to fix it but it didn’t really work and I’ve been scared to touch it since. However the meta is top notch so here we are - it mirrors Chapter One, Everything Holy, which explores Felix’s decision to leave the cult and with that, leave God. Everything Holy / In San Francisco explores his relationship (or lack thereof) with God and how much Felix’s life has changed since he left - and how “holy” it is. It definitely goes back to the idea of the tangible because the holiness preached to him growing up was not something tangible to him, whereas with this he looks at real life experiences, so he tries to find holiness in that. It also ties with Cyan City and the romanticisation of San Francisco as something tangible and something he can find holiness in, which a) he needs to learn that things don’t have to be “holy” to be valuable and b) it would be a shame if :) he centred everything good about his life around SF and then :) something bad were to happen whilst living in SF :) the way he and Dorothy both do this

My plan for this is basically: Condense The Shit Out Of It. The hardest part about this chapter is it is very thematic and you know as a lit major (derogatory) I love that but with more theme centric chapters the line between subtle and Too Much can be verrryyy thin, but I think focusing on character exploration over theme will fix that pretty easily. I’d also like to separate the Isaias introduction into its own chapter because it’s such an important moment and November me just? Latched it on at the end? And that plus Felix’s crisis in the same chapter is just too much. This chapter is gonna get changed A Lot but for now here’s Felix’s very chill and relaxed ending to his POV section :)

cw: drowning, drug mention

Felix didn’t speak to God for three weeks and everything unholy became holy: the coffee scorching his throat, the kaleidoscopic t-shirts and high waisted jeans, the punk rock they play at the record store – loud and electric. It’s unholy, but he sleeps through the night now, he folds coloured card into butterflies at breakfast and scribbles biro eyes over the newspaper's sudoku on his lunch break. He earns money and he spends a pinch of it on himself: on new wave records and playing cards and earrings he can’t wear yet. Sometimes he buys marijuana it’s not a sin because marijuana means he only smokes tobacco twice a day now – one at breakfast, one before bed. He bar hops with Beau on Saturdays and hikes with Dorothy on Sundays and he tells strangers he studies American Literature and he smiles with his eyes more and nobody notices that somebody’s holding his head underwater. And he doesn’t know whose hand it is, but it knows how to grip tight. And he doesn’t know how to swim, but he knows how to swallow water. And he doesn’t know if this is the punishment or the sin because the water stings his eyes but he chooses to keep them open, and the water will tangle in his lungs but he chooses to keep his mouth open. And hellfire can’t touch him under here, so he’ll keep swallowing water and it’ll burn him in a different way, and he’ll like how it scorches his throat.

(Once again context I didn’t share because I don’t like the writing that talks about it: Felix has a deep fear of drowning from past trauma, but he’s also very obsessive about it and often imagines himself drowning.)

(also the way these excerpts are just showing off my love for repetition my Intro to Creative Writing Tutor that called repetition lazy is seething rn!!!!)

Overall though, I’m v happy with how this section came out now that I actually know what the story is! As I’ve finished drafting it, I have noticed where the missing plot beats are and this is what I expected because I Do Not have a lot of experience with novels (I’ve never passed 15k on a novel before so we’re in new territory now) and generally struggle to see beats before I finish a draft. I’m thinking there’s at least one chapter missing and maybe a shorter one, like MSATBOTF, but I won’t be touching this section again until I finish the draft. Most of all I learnt a lot about the story’s form and I’m excited to play with that and be a bit more flexible!

I’m currently drafting Indigo, the first chapter in Dorothy’s POV, and I was going to talk more about it but this post is too long and the next update will be <3 all about her <3. But the chapter introduces her and Jolie’s tumultuous relationship and here’s a lil peak!

Me, a sapphic, capable of writing happy sapphic relationships:

Me instead:

cw: light/implied homophobia

If she didn’t display the ticket on the bedside table - like she had something to prove - she could have easily been in Dallas, in New York, London, Cannes, Moscow, Tokyo, Cairo, Sydney. But wherever she went, Dorothy and Jolie have had four airport reunions before today - four times they’ve had to soften themselves, disguise themselves. Old high school friend flying in to be her maid of honour, college roommates who don’t see each other as a day past eighteen, pen pals reuniting for the first time since the seventies, business trip colleagues in casualwear. The fifth time, there’s nothing to hide, and as they walk to the car, Dorothy has to wonder: if they were seen by nobody, would Jolie have hugged her with both arms? Would she have kissed her? Would Dorothy kiss back?

I’m midway through this chapter, so I’ll keep the rest of it for the next update! That I promise won’t be in three months!

If you read through all of this then I am in love with you <3

#i'd say im sorry this is so long but it was so fun to write so i'm not!#also pls be proud i cut 2k words from this bc i RAMBLED #atlastracking #writeblr #writing update #revelations revelations

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olivarryprompts · 3 years

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Fanfic Friday #1

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read/Save it on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/31733458

{training dates}

Ship: olivarry

Status: dating

Warnings: none :)

WC: 1,646

Barry’s POV

It sort of all started when I got my powers. And I ran to Oliver.

“I’ve spent my whole life searching for the impossible, never imagining that I would become the impossible.”

“So why come to me? Something tells me you didn’t just run 600 miles to say hi to a friend.” “All my life I’ve wanted to do, more. Be more. And now I am. And the first chance I get to help someone, I screw up. What if Wells is right? What if I’m not a hero? What if I am just some guy who got stuck by lighting?”

“I don’t think that bolt of lighting struck you Barry,” Oliver paused, “I think it chose you.”

“I’m just not sure I’m like you, Oliver. I don’t know if I can be some, vigilante,” I whispered, looking down.

“You can be better. You can inspire people. In a way I never could. Watching over your city like a guardian angel, making a difference. Saving people,” he smirked, “In a flash.” He walked to the edge of the building, “Take your own advice, wear a mask.” Oliver then got out his bow to zipline off the rooftop.

“Oliver, wait,” I called, thinking.

“Yeah, Barry?” he said, turning around.

“I-i can’t fight. I can’t be strong. And tough.”

“Yes, you can. Meet me at my club, Verdant, in a week. Same time.”

“Your club?”

“Yes, my club.”

And then he did his robin hood and swung away.

A lot happens in a week. Take down metas, learn to swirl my arms to make wind, realize I have a bit of a crush on Oliver Queen. Please ignore the last one.

I arrived at his club the following week at midday. During that time, I recalled that his secret lair was in the sublevel of his club.

“Hello Barry,” he greeted.

“Hi. So, um-”

“Come at me. I’m going to hit you with an arrow.” “Sure you are,” I smirked.

“Go, go.” I sped off 100 or so meters, and then ran straight at him. He fired an arrow, and it slowly made its way towards me. With a cheeky smile, I grabbed it and stopped.

“Nice try Ollie, to-OCHHCHHC. Fuck-what?”

“Awareness of your surroundings,” Oliver said, pulling the arrows out of my back.

“Ow ow it hurts.” “That was lesson one. The battlefield is just that, it’s a field. It’s not one person in one place, it's a network of people all trying to kill,” he places a finger on my chest, “You.”

I was still in pain, and not too fond of him.

“You know there are less painful ways to teach that lesson?” “You showed up, you knew what you were getting yourself into,” he stated blatantly. “Well-no. No. I didn’t really want an arrow in my back.” “Would you prefer to train on a deserted Island on the coast of the China Sea?” he said jokingly.

“No. Fine.”

He led me down to his base.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, pointing to where a punching bag was set up.

“This place gets cooler every time,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Punch,” he instructed. I started speed punching the bag, and it almost immediately broke.

“Well I’d say that was pretty good,” I said, smiling.

“Horrible. No control.” “What? I broke the bag.” “Don’t speed punch. Punch normally,” he said, replacing the bag.

I started punching as hard as I could.

“Untuck your thumb,” he commented, “You’re going to break it.”

I kept punching, taking his feedback and applying it.

“Wrist straight,” he said, taking my wrist into his hand and holding it steady.

Almost 45 minutes later, I was exhausted.

“My arms, I, I can’t feel them.” “Good, now fight me.” “Excuse me?” “Sparring, let's go. No fucking speedy shit, alright?” “Ollie, I don’t think I physically can.” “Oh yes you can.” He took my arm and dragged me onto the mat. I threw some weak punches at him, not moving. He was not holding back.

“Oliver, are you just going to continue to BEAT me up?” “When you start trying, I will stop punching.” I gritted my teeth and started throwing more meaningful punches.

“Good, come on, keep your feet right.”

I threw another punch.

“Don’t lean back, move forward.” After another 15 minutes of sparring, he called it.

“Done.”

“Is that all?” I joked.

“I mean we can do more,” he teased back.

“Nah I’m good. I feel like I should get a certificate, like, ‘congrats you completed your first Oliver Queen superhero training session.’”

“Idiot,” he smirked.

“Thanks.” “Right, I should get back to my city. Same time next week?”

“Yes.”

I reached out to hug him.

“I’m not really a hugger, Barry.” “Well, technically I could just speed and hug you, so you might as well just…”

He smiled, and we briefly hugged.

“Thanks Ollie.”

“See ya.”

Most sessions were similar to that. Well, not similar but the same vibe. He had me slap water for two hours once. He made me lift sand another time. Anyway, the training was hard and weird, but it seemed to be working. However, they started to shift. We were mainly sparring after three months, him giving me tips.

“Good sessions,” he said, chucking me a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I huffed, collapsing into a chair.

He walked over to his salmon ladder, and he pulled his shirt off. Update, the crush got much worse which could, really, only be expected.

He started to go upwards, and I did definitely stare. Him jumping down caught my attention.

“You wanna get some food?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure, yeah. Where?”

Where ended up being big belly burger, and, as the flash, I ate a shedload.

“That. Is. Disgusting,” Ollie said, smiling endearingly.

“You do you.”

“So, how’s everything in Central?”

“Yeah, it’s metahuman and that.”

“Right, descriptive.” We both chuckled.

“How’s everyone here?”

“Oh we’re hanging on as usual.” “Mine wasn’t descriptive enough,” I said, sarcastically.

“What, you want me to give a rundown of every person in my life?”

No, I want to know if you and Felicity still have this weird “in love” thing going on. “You know what, sure,” I smirked. “You are a child, Barry Allen.”

I just laughed.

We stayed a while just chatting, long after we’d finished eating. We were both red from laughter. and he was smiling brighter than I’d ever seen him.

It became a tradition of sorts. Train and go get food. He’d take me to all his favorite spots, we’d eat, and stay for hours just talking.

One day we were sparring, and I’d somehow ended up under him. He slowly leaned in, and I gave him a little nodd. The kiss lasted far too little time for my liking.

I was smirking at him, “Does someone have a little crush?”

“Shut up, I see how you look at me shirtless.” “Fair. You look very hot shirtless,” I said, “Your heart is beating fast.’ “So is yours.” He leaned in again, and this kiss lasted longer. “You wanna go for dinner?” “As in a date?” I inquired.

“As in dinner, you know. Maybe. People eat dinner.” “We’ve been dating for months now, neither of us cared to admit it,” I joked, walking towards a chair.

“No,” he said, thinking.

I shoot him a “really” look.

“Aright so yes, we have. Do you wanna get dinner?”

“Yes, Ollie, I want to get dinner.”

So from there we basically just dated. Woah revolutionary I know. Training sessions became covers for dates. Sleeping at his became a late night’s work. In the chaos of everything, we found peace in each other.

Oliver’s POV

“Can you run this through facial recognition please, Felicity?” “Yeah,” she said, tapping on her keyboard.

My phone began to ring, and I saw it was Barry.

I shot Felicity a look and headed to the backroom in the lair.

“Hey Be-” “Hello,” a voice said. I recognized it to be Cisco.

“Cisco?” “Yeah? Oliver?” “Why do you have Barry’s phone?” “Barry told me to call this number if he was ever in trouble?” I panicked, “Is, is h-he alright?” “Well, yes, no, he’s sorta-” “I’m coming now.”

“Felicity, I’m going to Central City, work stuff.” “What work exactly?” “Stuff.” “Secret girlfriend stuff?” “W-what?” “Come on, we all see you smiling at your texts, spending way too much time in Central City with'' Barry,” and the way your face lights up when you get a call.” “I-no. I don’t have a secret girlfriend.” Boyfriend, I have a secret boyfriend who happens to not be doing so well.

“Where is he? Where’s Barry?”

“Med bed, right there,” Caitlin said, “Be careful, he’s resting.” “What the hell happened to him?” I said, fuming.

“He got stabbed. Fight.” I ran over to his bed, grabbing his hand.

“Barry,” I said softly.

His eyes fluttered open softly.

“Ollie, ollie. Y-you came.”

“Of course, baby, why would I not be here?”

He just tried to move closer to me.

“Hey, hey, you stay still.”

“Cuddles? Please cuddles.”

I carefully made my way under the covers, and Barry immediately cuddled into me. He quickly fell asleep to the calming motion of my fingers running through his hair.

“When did that happen?” I heard Cisco whisper.

“Couldn’t tell you,” Caitlin said, equally baffed.

I just held on to Barry, hoping he’d get better. Hoping he’d be fine.

A few hours later his eyes fluttered open.

“Ollie?”

“I’m right here, Bear.”

“I think they know,” he said, smiling. “They might have a suspicion.” “All this started from a bit of training.” I kissed his forehead, “God, you idiot, you had me worried there.”

“You can’t get rid of me that quick.” “And I’m so glad.”

His lips met mine, and we kissed for a short moment.

“I think I love you Barry Allen.” He smiled his million dollar smile, “Oliver Queen? Love?”

“Only you.”

“I love you, too Ollie.”

Read/Save it on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/31733458

#olivarry fic #olivarry #oliver queen #Barry Allen #felicity smoak #The Flash #The Arrow #arrowverse #m/m #fluff #fanfcition #dcu

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unnamedelement · 3 years

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You Carry Them in Your Heart: Ficlet for Diverse Tolkien Week

I wrote this little snippet this morning in honor of @diversetolkien‘s Diverse Tolkien Week, using the prompts “Women of Color,” “Culture,” and “Anti-racism.” It is inspired by a number of blatant headcanons (and some canon-based meta, imho), and the versions of Legolas and Mirkwood that exist in my own work.

Further, it is inspired by my own relationship with my messy and ethnically-complex family history. While I will never know what it is to not be white in this world, I do know what it is for whiteness and for imperialism to steal the truth from you. I do know how badly it hurts to never be able to reach those parts of you whose stories were erased; how it hurts to know that your family’s language was beaten out of them; how it hurts to know that someone somewhere in the past started shaming children for their questions and teaching them lies about their brown skin. I know how it feels to have nameless grandmothers, to have ancestors whose stories were lost to time and shame and trauma, to the endless march of the victor’s narrative.

So, all that is where this little ficlet is coming from. My own family shit, but also Mirkwood and its arguably colonial positioning, plus all my own very gratuitous worldbuilding and headcanons.

You Carry Them in Your Heart

It was midafternoon and the sun shone weakly overhead, and Legolas and his mother were traveling with a small group of elves. It was cold but not too cold, but Legolas was young, and his mother had buttoned him into the fisherman’s sweater gifted him by the Lakemen before they set out that morning.

“Mother,” he asked quietly, and he curled his fingers into his mother’s shawl from where he rode behind, pickaback, and he listened vaguely to the murmurs and melodies of the elves around him. “Why are the Men of the Lake pale like moonlight?”

It was the first time his mother had taken him with her on her trade trips to negotiate with the men around Mirkwood, and he had had many questions.

“Your father is pale like moonlight, emlineg,” his mother responded, hitching him up slightly so his face was pressed momentarily into her curls.

“He is not,” Legolas said, shaking his head firmly. “He is pale like sunlight.”

“Your friend Ithildim is pale like moonlight,” his mother answered smoothly.

“Hm,” he said quietly, and he laid his head on her back, raised a hand to stifle a yawn, for they had been up since long before sunrise. “Ithildim is pale like moonlight...”

There was quiet for a time and Legolas watched those traveling around him. They walked up the River and back toward the wood, and his home was a dark mound on the horizon. The elves around him, however, were not all pale like moonlight. They were some of them the moon, yes, but they were also autumn trees under sun, were hazelnut and chestnut, every shade of the endless wood.

He spoke again: “The Lake is to the east of our home, Mother?”

“It is, child.”

“Saida said the men of the West are different than those of the Long Lake.”

His mother laughed lightly, and Legolas gripped her tighter. “And how would Saida know anything about the men of the Western Woods?”

“Her brother has told her,” Legolas said eagerly. “For he is a captain and has seen many things! He says the people to the West run the plain outside our woods, and they worship the North Sun.”

“And so do you, emlineg,” his mother countered. “The Sun brings us warmth after long winters, does it not?”

Legolas reached a hand out into the air around them and the wind played between his fingers.

“But she says those Men are not pale like moonlight, Mother. They are like loam beneath leaf mould after winter.”

“Like you, then?” his mother asked wryly.

Legolas shook his head behind her.

“Like me?” she tried again.

He shook his head once more. “You are too dark, and I am too light. And they are cool, like clay under silt.”

“Ah,” his mother murmured, and Legolas felt it vibrate from her into him as he pulled his hand back in, wrapped it gently in that hair that was so like his own. “Saida knows a lot for just being told.”

“Her brother is also an artist,” Legolas said matter-of-factly. “He draws her pictures of his travels in the evenings, in their camps. He brings them home to her and tells her stories. His stories are like picture books. I have heard them, too.”

“That is nice of him.”

“Yes. I wish Felavel could draw like him.”

“Felavel brings you back other things from her work,” his mother said neutrally.

“Yes, and I love them—there are so many different things in our Wood!”

“There are, child.”

It was quiet again for a long time. Legolas knit his mother’s hair between his fingers like a loom; her hair was a dark blackwater that contrasted with his tawny skin, warm as the hair she had plaited from his face into a knot that morning, to keep it tidy during travel. He loosened his hold on his mother’s hair and it unwound from his hands like a spring. He scratched at a braid that tugged at his hairline and then turned his attention again to the elves around him. Their hair was light to dark, cornsilk to coils, but the Men of the Lake had hair that waved like gentle weave in shades of brown, and those of the Western Plains had hair that fell in a sheet like dark and windless rain. The men of those places had one hair, it seemed—not many.

He shifted against his mother’s back and spoke: “Why do all the Men in one place look the same, but we elves here—in our one place, in our Wood—we do not?”

His mother did not answer for a moment, and he could feel her thinking, and he matched his breaths to hers while she pondered. She readjusted her hold on his thighs, and Legolas waited.

“Our people are complicated, Legolas,” his mother finally said. “We come from many places and many cultures and many histories, but we all eventually made Mirkwood our home.”

“Ithildim says he has been here forever.”

She laughed. “Many of his mother’s people are Avarin, Legolas. But they have not been here forever, though they have been here longer than even our own folk”

“And much longer than Father’s,” Legolas said assuredly. “Well,” he immediately corrected himself, “than—than his father. Is that right, Mother?”

“You have many questions, emlineg,” his mother said, but she was laughing again. “When we return, I will be telling your father you are finally old enough to begin your studies!”

Legolas shrugged and then squirmed to be let down. She dropped him to the ground and he took her hand.

“That is all right, I guess,” he finally said, and she swung their hands between them. “I think I want to understand.”

There was quiet as they began their journey again, as they watched the wide and wild world move about them.

“The most important thing for you to know, emlineg,” his mother said finally, after they had walked together for a time, and had fallen slightly behind the others due to Legolas’ small legs. “Is that we are all wood-elves, and that you have parts of all of its folk—East and West of the Mountains—in your soul, and your history. You are the creation of all those who came before you, and you carry them in your heart, where'er you go.”

Legolas looked up at her, and her dark hazel eyes were wide and bright and shining in her face; her hand was tight on his.

“That is a beautiful thing, child,” his mother whispered. “You must never forget that.”

Legolas stood and watched her without moving for a moment, for there was something happening here that he knew he was not quite old enough to understand, but it seemed so important to his mother...

He eventually raised his arms into the air without words and she picked him up. She adjusted him so he could tuck his head against her chest, so his legs dangled to either side of her hips.

They were almost caught up with their folk when Legolas finally affirmed, voice muffled in her shawl and cut short by a yawn: “I shall never forget it, Mother.”

And she pressed a kiss to his head then, and he let himself drift as the river cut the plains and they eventually breached the wood; let himself drift as voices were lifted in song, as birds wove their notes in his mind; as it fell to darkness around them and the Sun fled them and the night came down heavy; and he drifted, too, as they went through the great gates and crossed the bridge into the Halls.

He did not even truly wake as his mother handed him to his father, as they hugged above him, as golden hair caught blackwater curls and tickled his tired nose.

That is a beautiful thing, child. You must never forget that.

But he was safe and he was warm and he was loved, and that was beautiful, and elves—

Elves do not forget.

He adjusted himself against his father’s chest and felt his mother’s hand brush his cheek; his father’s heartbeat was strong and steady in his ears as they moved toward his room, and it was a bass drum at festival that beat in time with his; it was a lullaby that reassured him into sleep.

.o.

Years would pass, and Legolas’ mother would leave them, and so much of what and who he was would flee.

And yet, even after all that—even after his mother was but a memory in the wood-elves’ storied past—Legolas would carry her inside him.

He would let her beat in his heart with the dozens of mothers of their people that had come before them—that he had never known—and he would carry them forward, and on.

And to the day that he sailed oversea, Legolas would never ever forget.

FIN

Please reach out to me in a DM/chat if you feel I have written something insensitive. I would be happy to speak with you.

#dvtw21 #legolas #mirkwood fam #diversity in middle earth #my fanfiction #my family trauma shit #lmao haha its fine #cw cultural erasure #lotr fanfiction #throwing my work and my own vulnerability into the world as if i am made of steel and not a delicate flower #long post #diversetolkienweek #silvan elves #wood-elves

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friendship-ended-with-pokespe · 4 years

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Kirby: Rescue the Friend in the Great Labyrinth! Chapter 8

Rolling on the ground, Kirby barely escaped from Magolor’s hands striking down. Magolor shouted out loud in irritation. “It’s no use fleeing! Stop wasting your time! This is the end, Kirby!” Magolor tried to seize Kirby with both his hands.

“Oh no......! Run away, Kirby......!” Meta Knight let out a groan. At that moment: Waddle Dee rolled out from Mirra’s mirror. King Dedede shouts in joy. “You’re here, eh Waddle Dee!? You did bring a strong guy this time, yes!?” “Uhh......erm......!” King Dedede and Meta Knight both watched Mirra’s mirror while gasping for breath. But nothing came out other than Waddle Dee. “Quit swaggering and show it already! Have it get sucked up by Kirby!” Shouts Taranza. “O-On it!” Waddle Dee opened his hands. What rolled down from there was...... “......Minny......?” King Dedede was pop-eyed. It’s that small creature that Kirby inhaled with the apple around the entrance of the labyrinth. King Dedede face became bright red in no time. “The heck are you thinking, Waddle Dee!!!? You brought this useless worm because you couldn’t find anything!? You’re an idiot in every single way!!!” “A WORM!? You darn numbskull, who the heck are you saying that to!?” Minny hopped up and flew off the handle. “And here I came because I was asked to lend my strength! You insolent piece of crud! I’m outta here!” “Wait, don’t go back!” Waddle Dee stopped him. Meta Knight realized suddenly and said. “Minny......Mini......that’s it! This might be a great idea.” “What......?” King Dedede narrowed his eyes in confusion. Meta Knight shouts. “Way to go, Waddle Dee. Kirby, inhale Minny!” Kirby has used up all his stamina in running away from Magolor’s attacks. While tottering, he turned around and looked at Meta Knight with vacant eyes. “Eh......? What......?” “Quick! Inhale Minny!” “Minny......? But......” King Dedede ranted and raved, swinging his hammer. “Heck no! He’ll only end up shrinking if he inhales that thing! He’ll be finished by Magolor before you know it!” “It’s fine, so hurry! Inhale him, Kirby!” Meta Knight raised his irritated voice. Waddle Dee shouted as well. “It’s sink or swim, Kirby! Try sucking up Minny!” Magolor is furiously swinging his hands even in the meantime. Kirby stamina was already at a limit. He’ll get caught by Magolor and be crushed at this rate-. It’s just as Waddle Dee says. Sink or swim. With all his strength, Kirby descards the ‘Archer’ ability and inhales Minny. “Ah!? What do you think yer doing!? Stop, stop it! Don’t look down on me just 'cause I’m small!!!” Minny’s protests broke off in the middle. Having inhaled Minny, Kirby became as small as a pea before their eyes. Taranza screamed. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!? He’ll get crushed like this!!!” At that moment, however: Something unexpected happened. The colossal Magolor started getting ants in his pants suddenly. “H-Huh? Kirby? Where did you disappear to? It’s not fair to hide!” He bends over and is looking around with his eyes wide. King Dedede realized suddenly and said. “That Magolor lost sight of Kirby!” Waddle Dee jumped up from his happiness. “Right now, Magolor can’t see Kirby because he’s too small for him!” “Yeah. That was a great idea, Waddle Dee.” Meta Knight caught his breath and said. “Look, Magolor is at a loss. With this, the tables have turned!” Precisely. Kirby seemed smaller than an ant to Magolor right now. He can’t catch sight of him even with him straining his eyes. Seeing Magolor in a fluster, Kirby regained his energy. Without making a sound, he makes his way to Magolor with all his strength. Magolor could only act flustered in bewilderment. “Where are you, Kirby? Come out here!” Kirby leaped at Magolor’s cape and climbed his way up. He’s so small that Magolor hasn’t noticed him at all. Meta Knight said to WaddleDee. “It’s been flawless up to this point. Next is the coup de grâce. I leave it to you, Waddle Dee. We need a Copy Ability that can deal huge damage to Magolor.” “Roger!” Waddle Dee jumped into Mirra’s mirror in high spirits.

“Kirby! Where did you run off to? Are you that scared of me?” While Magolor is searching about in the wrong direction, Kirby climbed high above his face. Right at that moment, Waddle Dee rolled out from Mirra’s mirror. Appearing right behind him was-the brave warrior who fights with his bare hands, Knuckle Joe!

Knuckle Joe said in a brave voice while making light kicks and punches. “You said that you need my strength? Alright, leave it all to me! Now that Master Knuckle Joe has rushed over, I won’t let him lay a finger on y’all!!” Knuckle Joe made swft punches, but suddenly stopped moving, noticing the situation before his eyes. Meta Knight and King Dedede drew closer to him in silence. Even Knuckle Joe cringed with fear from the pressure of the two. “Meta Knight? And Your Majesty too......w-what is it?” “Lend us your strength, Knuckle Joe.” “Uhh......s......sure. Of course, I came running because he said so......b-but......what is it? I can’t help but feel bad about this.” “Your hunch is correct!” King Dedede grabbed hold of Knuckle Joe. Knuckle Joe screamed. “WHAAAA!? What’re you doing!? It hurts, it hurts, I said! Sire~!?” “Goooo!!!” Mustering all his strength, King Dedede flung Knuckle Joe toward Magolor’s face way up high. “Ahhhhhhh~~!?” Knuckle Joe’s screams reverberates. Kirby removed his ‘Mini’ ability at just the right timing. Kirby’s body returned to its normal size. “Ahhh!? Kirby!?” Magolor is astonished at Kirby who suddenly appeared right before his eyes. Kirby quickly inhales Knuckle Joe flying towards him. Strength filled his whole body, and a red headband was worn on his forehead This bright red headband is the sign of the ‘Fighter’ ability’s power. Kirby gives a shout in full energy. “Let’s go!!! Rising break!!!”

Raising his gripped fist with all his strength, Kirby delivered the strongest uppercut at Magolor’s chin. Even the humongous Magolor cannot bear this surprise attack. Blown away without a chance to let out his voice, he fell on the floor with a violent thud. With it, the mirror that he had in his hands was hurled away. Kirby jumped down before Magolor collapsed and made a nice landing. Magolor fell flat on his back and was knocked out. His body becomes smaller in the blink of an eye. The effect that granted his desires was gone from letting go of the mirror. “You did it, Kirby! You’re amazing!” Waddle Dee jumped up and down in excitement. King Dedede said proudly. “It was my achievement, not Kirby! We were able to bring him down precisely because I hurled Knuckle Joe with accuracy!” But the story of the king’s accomplishment was interrupted by Taranza. Taranza shoved the king and began running. “Her Majesty’s......treasure......!” Taranza sprang at the Dimension Mirror that fell off of Magolor’s hand. Meta Knight said. “Wait, Taranza. We’ll deal with Magolor before worrying about the mirror. So that he’ll never be able to make mischief ever again.” “......Aye, aye.” Taranza turned to face Magolor. Magolor barely regained consciousness. He let out a groan, holding his chin with both his hands. “It......hurts......so......mean......” “If you’ve learned your lesson with this, then you’ll know to never manipulate others with false words ever again. Meta Knight warned him in a stern voice. Magolor only groaned and didn’t try to respond. Taranza wrapped Magolor with the strings released from his hands. Magolor can’t do a thing with this. Kirby removed his ‘Fighter’ ability and walked up to Magolor. “Magolor......” “......” “So it was a lie, huh. Taranza wasn’t your friend, was he?” Taranza said in place of Magolor who didn’t try to answer. “He is not my friend! This punk is a wayfarer that dropped in on Floralia one day.” “Wayfarer......?” “He said that he was an acquaintance of Her Majesty......and hasn’t come to see her in a long time. But Sectonia is gone, so......” Taranza cast his eyes down. “When I said that, that crook became really surprised. He then wept tears and asked to at least let him take a look at her room. I was completely deceived and led him there.” “Even those tears were lies as well, eh.” Meta Knight turned to him with a rigid look, but Magolor certainly isn’t answering. Taranza continued. “That jerk looked at the Dimension Mirror hung in Her Majesty’s room and said that he wanted me to hand it over......” “Why was the Dimension Mirror in her room?” “I found it in the Mirror World previously and offered it to Her Highness. After all, Sectonia loves beautiful things.�� “......” Kirby and his friends realized. That Taranza’s way of calling her was wavering between “Her Majesty Sectonia” and “Sectonia.” It must be because of his heart wavering. Taranza himself doesn’t seem to have realized it. “Of course, I refused! He then suddenly changed his attitude and tried to steal the mirror!” Taranza scowled at Magolor. “He had his eyes on the Dimension Mirror from the start and tricked me! I ended up grappling with him, and spontaneously shouted “Save me!” The mirror then started sparkling suddenly......and I was here once I came around.” “The mirror must’ve responded to your desires.” Said Meta Knight. “Dimension Mirror inhaled you and protected you from Magolor. But in exchange, it lost its radiance and its original power was sealed deep within the labyrinth. Unable to give up on the Dimension Mirror, Magolor......” “......Tried to take advantage of us, huh.” Kirby looked at Magolor. In reality, it’d be fine to detest Magolor and vent his anger at him......but Kirby had no such feelings. He certainly is vexed that he was tricked by him. Still, what swelled in his heart wasn’t rage. It was loneliness like a chilling wind. King Dedede on the other hand laid bare his rage. “So you saying that you had a generous rich friend was a lie too! Dagnabbit......I knew that I shouldn't have believed what you said!” “Tell us, Magolor. What is your goal?” Meta Knight pressed him. Magolor is facing the other way. “What were you going to do by getting hold of the mirror?” “......” “Is it wealth that you desire? Is it power? Were you planning to become the ruler of the universe?” “......” “I can’t leave you be in accordance with your response. You’re far too dangerous.” Meta Knight is on the verge of drawing his sword. Kirby shouts in spite of himself. “Wait, Meta Knight. “......Kirby?” “We shouldn’t pick on him anymore. He can’t move anyways, and......” Wrapped by Taranza’s strings, Magolor cannot resist no matter what he does. Meta Knight sighed. “You’re too naïve, Kirby. We need to thoroughly expose his scheme. Or else he’ll once again......” “I’m not scheming anything!” Magolor finally raised his voice. He lowered his head and continued. “I was only messing with you guys......sorry about that......” “You were messing with us? That’s enough, you......” “I wanted to play with you guys! That’s all it was!” Magolor twists his tied hands and shouts. “After all, Kirby has a lot of friends, while I don’t have any. I wanted you to hang out with me!” “Enough with the nonsense. That’s not a reason to steal the Dimension Mirror.” “I’m not lying......I thought I’d be able to have an adventure with Kirby if I made a big incident occur!” “That makes no sense. I’m tired of hearing your lies!” Meta Knight took a step forward. King Dedede is also readying his hammer with his rage laid bare. Magolor curled up into a ball and began to shiver. Kirby stepped before Meta Knight and King Dedede. “Knock it off already......” “Out of our way, Kirby! We can’t let him off!” King Dededed stomped his feet. Meta Knight said in irritation. “You value friendship, Kirby. Magolor knew that and was only trying to take advantage of you. He believes that he’ll be able to fool you easily by saying that you’re his friend.”

“......” That could be the case. But Kirby thought about it. When Elline and Claycia were able to get along...... When Kirby and Waddle Dee were chatting in delight...... He wonders how Magolor felt after seeing that. Magolor, who doesn’t have anyone to argue with or get along with...... Kirby loosened the strings that tied Magolor. “What the heck is wrong with you, Kirby!? Hollered King Dedede. Magolor spreaded his limbs wide and flew up. “Yay, I’m saved! Thanks a lot, Kirby!” Magolor swiftly flew down to a position where Meta Knight and King Dedede attacks wouldn't reach. “Ah, wait!” King Dedede tried to chase after him, but Magolor was faster. Taking to his heels as though he was flying, Magolor turned around and began laughing. “Hehehehehe! Thanks a million, Kirby! I appreciate your efforts in being of help for me!” “T-That jerk......” Surprisingly, Waddle Dee was the one that blew his lid more furiously than anyone. Having become furious, Waddle Dee began sprinting towards Magolor. “How could you take advantage of Kirby’s feelings!? Just how sneaky can you get, Magolor......!” “Hehehe! The one that falls for it is to blame!” Magolor turns his body and takes flight. Waddle Dee’s feet shows no sign of catching up to him. “Taranza! Can you capture him with your strings?” Shouts Meta Knight. “U......Uhhh......that’s difficult.” Taranza shot his strings, but the distance is already too wide. It didn’t reach Magolor. Kirby shouts at Magolor running off. “Magolor! You don’t need something like the power of the mirror! Magolor isn’t pausing. He flees more and more hurriedly. Kirby continued. “We can be friends even without the mirror! Come to Dream Land. Let’s hang out and have an adventure together!” Magolor’s movement slowed for just a moment. He isn’t pausing, however. He disappeared before long. King Dedede hollered at Kirby with a look that showed his unbearableness. “You gosh-darn nincompoop! You were tricked and used by him! You still don’t get it!?” “......” “It was the perfect opportunity to capture him! You fell for it and let him get away!” “It's no use crying over spilt milk.” Meta Knight calmed King Dedede. “He’s probably learned his lesson with this. Even the wizard of lies should be staying low for the time being.” “I don’t believe that! He’s not trustworthy!” “-There’s something more important than that.” Meta Knight looked at Taranza. Taranza was about to walk over to the abandoned Dimension Mirror. “Hold it, Taranza.” Said Meta Knight, and Taranza paused. “Don’t touch that mirror.” “......” “The illusion shown by the mirror will be your ruin. Do not touch it.” “It wasn’t an illusion......” Taranza tried to talk back, but fell silent like he was shot down by Meta Knight’s stern gaze. “You know it, don’t you, Taranza? Queen Sectonia is gone.” “......” “The mirror only shows the illusion of your desires. You shouldn’t lose your head over it.” “But Sectonia was......” Taranza tried to touch the mirror, but retracted his hand slowly. “Sectonia......was laughing” “What?” “She was laughing......like she’s enjoying herself inside the mirror. She called my name in a cheerful voice just like those days......” Taranza hung his head. “That was only a dream that you wished to see.” Said Meta Knight. “You wish to return to the pleasant days before she became an evil queen; the mirror is only projecting that dream of yours.” “......” “You cannot return to the past no matter how much you dream of it. Open your eyes, Taranza.” Taranza hung his head down in silence for a long time. Kirby and his friends also looked at him without saying anything. After a long silence, Taranza raised his face at last. “......I understand. I’ll go back.” “Taranza......” “Her Majesty’s castle would’ve become desolate had I not returned. I need to clean it every day.” Saying that, Taranza turned his back on the mirror and began walking. His steps were frail as though his spirit came out of him. Although he’s aware that he had to return to Floralia, his heart must still be drawn to the mirror. Taranza suddenly paused. He turned around and fixed his eyes on the mirror. Kirby was nervous. Is he still captivated by the mirror? As he thought, he wants to give himself over to the world of dreams that the mirror shows? What came from his mouth however was contrary to his expectations. “I heard Sectonia’s voice just now.” “Huh?” “You heard it too, Kirby? Farewell......thank you, Taranza, she said.” Taranza’s voice trembled. Kirby was perplexed, since he didn’t hear any voice. Turning his back to the mirror a second time, Taranza began walking with his face down. “Taranza......” Kirby looked at the mirror.

The mirror is calmly projecting Kirby and the others as if nothing had happened. “What is he saying? I didn’t hear no voice.” King Dedede cocked his head in puzzlement. Waddle Dee is nodding as well. “He must’ve heard things. He heard a voice of illusion from all his thoughts of Sectonia.” Said Meta Knight. “......Humph. How silly.” “But that’s a good thing. Even if it was an illusion, he was able to finally cut off his attachment by hearing the parting words from her.” “And so we return, eh. I didn’t think it’d be all for darn nothing!” King Dedede and Meta Knight began walking. Waddle Dee also follows after the king. Kirby was about to follow them as well. But he became curious about it suddenly and turned his head over to the mirror once more. What is being projected is only Kirby turned his head over. Needless to say, he doesn’t see Sectonia. (Was it only a voice of illusion, just as Meta Knight had said......?) Or did her soul that was slumbering deep within the mirror called out in a voice that only Her Taranza could hear? Did she say her final farewell to Taranza, her most loyal subordinate and dearest friend? Maybe what called them to this world of the mirror was her wish for them to rescue Taranza......? Kirby didn’t know. “-Cheerio.” Saying in low voice, Kirby went after Waddle Dee and the others.

Then, parting with Taranza, Kirby and his friends returned safely to Dream Land. As usual, Dream Land is peaceful and warm enough for one to let out a yawn. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I had a long adventure even when it was only for a short while! Said Kirby as he leisurely walked along the road that leads to his house. Waddle Dee nodded. “I’m on the same boat. All sorts of things happened, right?” “We even met with Elline and Claycia......” “Were able to save Taranza,” “And fought against Magolor.” “That’s right! That jerk Magolor!” Remembers Waddle Dee, where he appears to have become upset. He huffs and says. “He’s the only one that I can’t forgive. How could he deceive you?” “......That’s fine.” “But still!” “I think that he really wanted to be friends with us. He only made a mistake in how he did it.” “......Do you want to be friends with that guy?” Asked Waddle Dee in anxiety. Kirby laughed. “Yup! I’ll hang out with him if he drops by!” “......I don’t wanna. He tried to take advantage of you......” “Magolor has never made friends before. That’s why he doesn't know what a friend is. Even he won't lie anymore if we were to become close!” “......You sure are nice, Kirby.” Said Waddle Dee with sighs mixed in. “It’d be great if I could be as nice as you.” “You are! After all, you’re my best friend!” The pair walked while talking, but Kirby paused all of a sudden. “......Huh?” “What is it, Kirby?” “My door is open......” It’s just as he says. The door of Kirby’s house was opened wide. “That’s strange. I thought I closed it when I left the house?” “You’re right. Did someone come to visit?” Bronto Burt happened to pass by just then. Bronto Burt is one of the residents of Dream Land with a pink body and pale wings. He is quite moody, but can be kind to anyone when in a good mood. “Oh, Kirby. Did you go out?” “Uh-huh, for a bit.” “Someone came out from your house just now. I’ve never seen that dude before, but......is he your new friend? “Wha......what was he like?” “It was a weird guy with an eared hood on. He wrapped himself in a cool cape.” Kirby and Waddle Dee exchanged looks. “It’s Magolor!” “He came while you were out......?” “Did he come over to play? So he does want to be friends with us!” “You shouldn’t stand him up if that was an appointment with a friend. That dude left right away ‘cause you weren’t here.” Said Bronto Burt. “Right......thanks for telling us, Bronto Burt!” Kirby and Waddle Dee began sprinting towards Kirby’s house.

Having barged in from the open entrance, what Kirby and Waddle Dee saw was: A bright clean plate. It’s the dish that had Chef Kawasaki’s specially-made castella on it. The castella wasn’t on the plate, where a single piece of paper was in its place.

Kirby picks up the piece of paper and reads the words written on it. "𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿! 𝗜 𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲! 𝗜𝘁’𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗳 𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄, 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁!? 𝗡𝗼 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝗺𝗲……𝘄𝗲’𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹! ……𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿." Kirby reads the words written over and over again. His hands clutching the paper began to tremble. Waddle Dee looked into his face in a concerned manner. “Kirby, are you alright? It really is too bad......it was such a yummy-looking castella......that punk......” Taking a deep breath, Kirby shouts with tears in his eyes.

“I’LL NEVER, EVER, IN A MILLION YEARS, BE FRIENDS WITH MAGOLOR! LIKE I EVER WILL!!!!!”

Crossing the fields and the mountains, Kirby’s lament echoed all throughout Dream Land.

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#kirby novels #kirby of the stars #light novel #translation #kirby #waddle dee #king dedede #meta knight #magolor #taranza #queen sectonia #bronto burt

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