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fific7 · 3 years

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Ticket to Ride - Part 2

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

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𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

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The aircraft door opened and you stepped out gratefully onto the air jetty. You weren’t scared of flying, you just didn’t like being cooped up in a flying tube for several hours on end. Up an escalator and along a short corridor and then you were able to see outside through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky was beginning to shade into the colours it would take on for dusk. It looked like it had been a nice day and you hoped the good weather would continue for your stay.

Karen had texted you while you were sitting on the plane at JFK, waiting for it to push back. Frank had told her that Micro had tracked your phone to the airport so boy, were you glad you’d turned off your old phone and switched to the new one when you did. She’d also told you that Billy had asked him to find out where you were headed, and your heart sank. You knew it wouldn’t take long for Micro’s vast and nerdy computer skills to find you but then again, London was a huge city and they’d have no idea whereabouts in it you’d gone to ground, thanks to your new ‘burner phone’.

You were feeling super-excited. This was beginning to feel like an action movie, with you on the run from the bad guys.

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“London??!!” Billy shouted, making Frank quickly move his phone away from his ear on the other end. “Yeah, London,” he replied.

Billy was back at his usual post by the window. “I mean... obviously I knew she was gonna fly somewhere but I thought it would the West coast, Miami, Seattle, Alaska... somewhere like that. But to go to a whole other continent....!!!!” Frank sighed, “Yeah, Bill, sounds like she’s really not keen to bump into you anytime soon.” “Yeah, thanks for remindin’ me.” “Bill, you brought this on yourself, buddy.” “I know!” yelled Billy, “An’ all I wanna do is get her back and make it up to her for the rest of my life, and all I know is she’s in London! Do you know how big that place is?” “Yeah, I do. And t’be honest... I dunno how you’re gonna even try to find her over there.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. “I mean...” Frank continued, “I’m guessin’ you are gonna go over there and try to find her, Bill?”

Billy’s shoulder twitched upwards briefly, and he stared intently out the window at the New York skyline.

“Yeah, Frankie... yeah, I damn well am.”

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You’d left two of your big suitcases and the backpacks in a luggage storage facility at JFK, travelling with just the one suitcase and a large shoulder bag. You took the overground Heathrow Express to Paddington before negotiating a change onto the Tube to reach Tower Hill DLR station, boarding one of the driverless trains out to Canary Wharf. Settling back into your seat, feeling pretty proud of yourself for managing not to get hopelessly lost.

Your AirBnB apartment was in a part of the city called Docklands, beside the Thames on the Isle of Dogs. It was an area of shiny skyscraper offices and fancy apartment blocks built round the old docks, and your accommodation for the next two weeks was in one of those. You were suitably impressed when you got inside it... open plan, all trendy furniture and gleaming fittings. Big, big windows with views of the river and the tall buildings.

Your phone chimed and you saw a text from Karen on your notifications. Taking your suitcase and bag into the bedroom, you went back out to the main area and sat on the sofa to read it. Oh. Billy now knew you were in London, and had apparently booked a flight over - he’d be arriving tomorrow. Your heart rate sped up; Billy was a sniper, used to finding, stalking, watching his prey. But, you told yourself, he had no idea whereabouts in the city you were and no way of finding you.

Relax.

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Billy stepped off the Heathrow Express, looking around for signs indicating where the taxi rank was. He’d been looking at the Tube map during the train journey. Nah, fuck that.

He was too wired to even think about getting to London Bridge on the Underground, or ‘Tube’ as he found out Londoners called it. His brain had been working overtime trying to figure out how the hell he was going to find her in a city the size of London. She’d stay central, surely - she wouldn’t head to the suburbs, he felt confident of that.

Getting into the first taxi in the queue, he drawled out, “The Shard, please.” The taxi driver nodded and pulled away from the station without saying anything. Thank fuck, thought Billy, I can’t be dealing with a talker right now. But just as the thought had left his head, the driver’s London accent said, “First time in London, guv?” Billy sighed, “No. No, it isn’t.” In fact it was, but he wasn’t about to tell the driver that. He’d only end up getting taken on the ‘scenic route’, double the time, double the price.

The driver grunted and turned up the radio... really annoying music could now be heard but Billy would take that over inane small talk any day. He looked out of the windows at the city streets and his mind went back to his mission. Mission impossible. Finally he saw the river and the taxi crossed a wide bridge before pulling up outside the lofty skyscraper that was The Shard. According to the blurb he’d read on some travel website it was the tallest in Western Europe, and while there were taller buildings in New York, the shape of this one made it look quite dramatic.

He paid and got out of the taxi with his expensive wheeled duffel bag, heading to the Shangri La entrance of The Shard and going inside. (It’s one of the priciest hotels in London - of course). Checked in at reception on the 35th floor, he was then whisked up to his room on the 52nd by another express lift. The windows were huge and the views spectacular.

Once again, he was gazing out of a window at a cityscape.

Where is she?

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Your first full day, you occupied yourself with getting to know the surrounding area, doing some grocery shopping and sitting on your large balcony, enjoying the view and relaxing with a glass of wine.

Every time a plane went overhead you wondered if Billy was on it - he was due here today. You shook yourself a little, you’d just have to stop thinking about it. He wouldn’t find you.

Your mind wandered unbidden to his recent behaviour. Knowing Billy was a player from day one, you’d still got involved with him. More fool you. Another old cliché.... you thought you’d be the one to change him. And you thought you had. You’d dated him for a few months, he seemed to have ditched his old hound-dog ways and when he’d asked you to move in with him, you’d agreed without thinking it over too deeply.

Now, looking back, it seems like you’d made a big mistake.

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Micro had spent quite some time constructing a query table that he could run against accommodation reservations in London for her arrival day. She had no reason to book under another name and he’d just have to run with that assumption.

When Billy had come directly to him instead of going via Frank to ask that he try and track down her reservation, Micro had been too scared to refuse. Billy still really unsettled him - he always reminded him of a circling predator.

This query would take a while to run. He hit the go button and wandered off to work on another project while it tunnelled its way through layer upon layer of data.

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Billy was pacing his swanky hotel room like a caged panther. He’d given up on the idea of roaming the streets of London trying to spot his target, that was just one dumbass idea. He’d never find her that way, much better to just wait on that geeky twat to come up with the answer with his internet wizardry.

He’d spoken to Frank earlier, who had nothing new to report. Billy wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty at cutting him out of the loop on his recent ask to Micro. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Frank wouldn’t mention it to Karen. Much as he loved him like a brother, Frank was a big sap when it came to Karen and he knew he’d give in and tell her, probably sooner rather than later.

However Frank had told him that Madani had called earlier that day, wanting to know where Billy was and why she couldn’t get in touch with him. Billy had figured out that his girl had got herself a new phone, and he’d followed suit. Which is why Dinah hadn’t been able to reach him. “Whaddya tell her?”he’d asked. “That you were on an overseas operation and were incommunicado.” “Good,” nodded Billy, “....that takes care of that little problem for a while at least,” feeling a sense of relief.

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Frank cut the call, a grim smile on his face. He hadn’t been completely straight with Billy, but it was for his own good. What he’d told Madani, however, had been the unadulterated gospel truth.

He’d said to her that Billy had hared off to Europe in pursuit of his live-in girlfriend, who’d suspected him of cheating on her and left him. He was absolutely determined to get her back.

He’d taken great satisfaction in the dead silence on the other end of the line, eventually punctuated by an angry snort and the call being abruptly ended.

That ‘little problem’ was hopefully taken care of for good.

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Micro looked at his phone as it beeped at him, the notification saying that his query was complete. That had taken much longer than he thought it would. Now he could only hope it hadn’t returned too many matches as he’d thought it prudent to run it on surname only.

He pulled up the results table and was pleased to see that there were only a thousand or so, he’d feared there would be many more. He scrolled through the list and quickly pinpointed the one he’d been looking for.

With a deep sigh he picked up his phone, typed “Wood Wharf, Water St, London E14”, a building and apartment number into a new message, then hit send. It would be the early hours of the following morning in London, so he very much doubted that Billy would leap out of bed and head right over there.

He finished eating his supper, drank a beer and settled down to watch TV when his conscience started bothering him. Should he? He shivered when he thought about what Russo might do to him if he found out.

Popping another bottle of beer open, he sat and contemplated what he should do for quite a while. He suddenly picked up his phone, sending a quick text to Frank telling him about the whole situation and including the fact that Russo now had her London address.

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While you were lounging on your balcony, sipping your wine and watching the world go by, it suddenly occurred to you that this would be a great base to work out of for a while. You messaged the estate agent and extended your stay to one month, with an option to extend if required.

Then, on a whim, you booked a flight to Barcelona early the next morning from City Airport - it was really close to your apartment even if the flights were a bit more expensive. You’d been doing a little research into other destinations to explore, and having a base in London to travel to and from made you feel much more comfortable. The W Barcelona had caught your eye while you’d been browsing for accommodation and as you were only going for a few nights, you’d booked in there.

Feeling extremely pleased with yourself, you got up and went into your bedroom, looking for a folded-up smaller travel bag you knew you’d packed in your luggage. Finding it, you began to choose some outfits for your short trip, thinking what a joy it was that you could now leave your large suitcase here.

But damn, you were going to have to be up early tomorrow. Best to get an early night, you thought, immediately yawning.

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Billy shot up in bed as his phone chimed with Micro’s text. When he read the information in the text, contrary to Micro’s belief he did leap out of bed and started pulling on his clothes (Micro had forgotten that this was an ex-Marine he was dealing with here).

He sat back down on the bed and googled the location. Oh okay, East London.... Docklands. Too far to walk and he didn’t think the Tube ran at this hour. Then he pulled up the Uber app and booked an immediate pick-up.

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Walking into the terminal building at City Airport, you were in the middle of a total yawning fit when a text came in. It was from Karen and you stopped, putting down your bag so you could read it.

Karen: Sorry to tell you this hon, but Billy went direct to Micro 🙄 and intimidated him into finding your London accom. Frank’s told him not to do that again no matter how much he’s shitting himself! Please take care of yourself 💋

You: Bastard 👿 thanks for the heads-up, I will do 😘

Picking your bags up again, you hurried over to one of the automated check-in machines to get your luggage tag.

Whoever had said ‘timing is everything’ had definitely got that right.

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“Oi!!!” yelled an irate male voice. Billy turned his head to see a groggy-looking tousle-haired guy, obviously just having been woken up. “Keep the noise down!”

Billy said nothing, just gave the guy his death stare. His head quickly disappeared back inside his apartment.

After pressing the buttons of a few apartment numbers at the main entrance, someone had buzzed him in and he’d been pounding on her apartment door for the last five minutes. But there was no response, and he knew she wasn’t that heavy a sleeper.

He slid tiredly down onto the floor outside her door. Had she somehow known he was on his way over here? No.... how would she know that?

His head dropped down in momentary defeat and he ran his fingers through his hair, groaning.

She hadn’t moved on already, had she?

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The plane lifted off the tarmac, and immediately you felt a huge sense of relief. You just weren’t ready to see Billy right now - you’d probably kill him if you did, ex-Marine or not.

Now you were off on your next adventure.

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London

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@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #ben barnes #the punisher 💀

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

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APPEARANCES || FRANK ADLER

pairing: Frank Adler x black!reader || word count: 5,898 || warnings: smut, sex, slight ass play, a little bit of dirty talk, swearing || request: your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere during a downpour and Frank comes to you rescue

authors note: fic number #2 for the 4k celebration! this was requested by @stargazingfangirl18! hope you like, babe! line divider by @firefly-graphics!

“Uncle Frank, where are you?”

You smile gently as Mary’s words hit your ears. You send your eyes towards her as she talks on your phone, pacing slowly, her little fingers playing with the hem of her Girls Scout vest. You hear a deep, muffled voice on the other end and turn your eyes back to the laptop in your lap, continuing to tap away at the keys.

“Okay, okay… yes… no… okay… I will… okay, bye.” She plops down next to you, holding out her hand containing your phone, “He’s on his way. He said thanks for sitting with me.”

You wave her off, winking, “I owe you for all the help you’ve given me this semester.”

The young blonde leans over, placing her hands on your lap as she starts to read the dissertation you’re working on. She pushes some of her blonde hair out of her face as she mumbles, “This is good, except you forgot the negative here… and you need to carry the two here.” She says, pointing to the screen.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, rereading your work quickly before you shake your head as a slow smile creeps on your face, “Shit.”

Mary looks back at you and smiles widely before leaning back over in her spot, “Can I play Angry Birds on your phone?”

“Well, I owe you again for telling me to carry this two, so yes,” you laugh as you delete the last two lines of your work to start treworking the problem, correctly this time, but you can’t get your fingers to move. You glance down the hallway as students in the small college building move about and spot the vending machine - your stomach rumbling as if on queue, “You want some chips or something, Mary?” you ask, grabbing your purse.

“Doritos please,” She answers, not looking up from your phone, “And a coke.”

You laugh a little as you stand, “Your Uncle is gonna kill me.”

“No he won’t, that’s what he had for breakfast this morning.”

“Wow,” You laugh, shaking your head as you start for the machine, “Don’t move, please.”

You move to the vending machine, pulling out your debit card and swiping it before tapping on the Doritos for Mary and the Cheetos for yourself. You pay for two cokes, (you’ve already ruined your diet with the Cheetos, might as well go all out) and turn on your heel to head back to your seat by the front doors. Just as you're handing the snacks to Mary, the doors open, a cool gust of wind washing over the two of you.

“Finally,” Mary says, rolling her eyes as she stands, “You’re late Uncle Frank.”

“I know it, I know.” He starts, running his hands through his damp hair, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Mary asks, scrunching her face at him before she turns her attention back to you, “Thank you for the chips and the coke.”

“You’re very welcome. I’ll see you Monday, study buddy?” You ask, raising your hand for a high five.

The little monster slaps your hand with hers, her toothy grin stretching across her face, “You got it.”

“Thank you for sitting with her,” Frank says, glancing up at you as he helps her with her backpack, “And for feeding her.”

You wave him off as you pack up your own bag, “It’s no problem. She’s literally the only reason I’m passing this class, so I can certainly sit with her for fifteen or twenty minutes here and there.”

He smiles at you and you smile back at him, diverting your eyes after a few seconds. You don’t have time for hot uncles. Especially hot, tan uncles who work on boat engines for a living that wear loose Hawaiian button downs and old, dirty jeans. You certainly don’t have time in your life for hot uncles whose bicep muscles flex softly as he puts his nieces backpack on her shoulders. Nope, you definitely don’t have time for hot, slightly grumpy uncles.

“You be careful out there, the rain is supposed to get worse for the rest of the night.”

“Thanks,” you say, unable to wipe the stupid smile off your face as Frank and Mary move towards the front door, “You too.”

He smiles again as he pushes open the door for the little human, “See you Monday.”

You lift your hand, wiggling your fingers a little as they push out into the wind and the rain. You watch as they run towards his old truck, Frank throwing open the passenger door for her before he slams it shut once she’s in. He jogs around the front of the trunk and then peels out of the parking lot, leaving you standing there, staring out of the glass doors like an idiot. You sigh - you really wish you had time for hot ass uncles.

You throw your messenger bag over your shoulder and grab your math book, holding it over your head as you push through the threshold of the doors out into the rain. You jog towards your old - and when you say old, you mean old. Your baby has two hundred thousand miles on her, a wonky tail light that sometimes comes on and sometimes doesn’t, and a passenger side window that doesn’t roll down all the way, but she’s always done right by you; until recently. You just need her to hold on for a few more weeks - until your dad comes down to visit his favorite girl and shell out a downpayment for a new car.

You toss the heavy math book into the passenger seat and dumb your bag onto the floor board before you put the key in the ignition and turn. It takes a minute, but the engine finally turns over and you pull out of the parking lot to head home - but you should stop by the store because you know you’re not going to want to do it later.

You groan as you slow to a stop at the intersection, cutting your eyes towards the Whole Foods to your left, and then the Taco Bell that sits on the corner to the right. God, a Mexican pizza sounds good… a Mexican pizza, Warrior Nun, and your couch sounds even better. A car honks behind you, startling you out of your daze, and you quickly take a left, heading towards the Whole Foods. Your scale will thank you later.

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You waste longer than you intend in the Whole Foods and by the time you’re finished, it's pouring outside. Being the responsible adult that you are, you of course left your umbrella at home. So, of course, you and your groceries are soaked by the time you get them into the backseat and you get yourself back behind the wheel. You huff, pushing your wet, soon to be frizzy hair out of your face before slamming your key back into the ignition.

“Come on baby,” you whisper, “Come on, come on.”

After a few more prayers, it turns over, the heat (which is about the only thing that works the way it should) blasting over your chilled body. You rub your hands together quickly, eyeing the Taco Bell as Linkin Park blasts through the speakers. You’re soaked, starving, and no thanks to the thoughts of hot ass uncles and their stupid Hawaiian shirts, suddenly super horny - you deserve a Mexican pizza… and a chalupa… and some nacho fries… and a Baja Blast.

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Your mood has improved greatly as the smell of tacos fill your nostrils. You tap along to the loud metal music blasting from the speakers as rain pelts down on your car. Ten more minutes and you’ll be home, in your pajamas, stuffing your face - this day can finally end.

Your car jerks suddenly, violently. Lights start flashing on the dash, the gauges pushing into the red as the car starts to die.

“Fuck!” You shout as you grip the wheel tightly, your eyes going wide, your heart starting to pound as you steer the car into the grass.

It rolls for a while before it finally comes to a stop. You turn the key, and hear nothing but clicks, “Shit,” you mumble, turning the key again and pumping the gas pedal, praying that it’ll start up, “Please, please, please.”

Click, click, click.

“Don’t do this to me!” You whine, turning the key again.

Click, click, click.

The lights on the dash flash again, the radio starts, the heat starts to blast, “Yes!” You squeal, bouncing in your seat.

It dies again.

You celebrated too soon.

“Fuck!”

You turn the key again.

No clicks.

No nothing.

You slam your head back into the seat and let your arms fall to your sides. Fuck. You sigh heavily and reach into the backseat, fumbling around until you feel your purse and pull it into your lap. You pull out your phone and tap the screen, but it stays black. You tap again, and then again, but nothing happens. You push the side button and groan when the red battery flashes across the screen. Of course. Of fucking course.

You throw the dead phone into the passenger seat and open your door, running around to the front of the car. You pop the hood, grunting and cursing as the heavy, hard rain drops down on you. Once the hood is up, you just stare at the engine. You don’t even know what you’re looking at, let alone what you should be looking for.

You tug on a few wires, push on the battery, you know, to make sure it’s in its place or whatever, wipe away old, wet leaves - but you’re completely lost, out of ideas and out of your element… in the middle of a downpour, with a dead phone. Just your luck.

A car drives by, splashing the puddled rainwater up onto you as you stand huddled under the hood. You slam your eyes closed, sucking your teeth before you count to ten, trying not to shout obscenities. You hear another car coming and naturally shift over a few feet to avoid being splashed again. A truck zooms past, but you hear it slow down within seconds. You peek over the hood as the truck comes to a complete stop and then is put in reverse. You’re half grateful but also half afraid - it is Florida.

“I thought that was you,” You hear a familiar voice call to you before a door opens and slams shut, “What happened?”

Relief floods over you as none other than Frank Adler, hottie McUncle pants, jogs towards you and joins your side, “God, I don’t know!” you whine, “I was driving home and it just stopped.”

“Let me take a look,” he mumbles more to himself than to you as he starts tugging and pushing on random wires, “Does it click or no, when you try and start it.”

“It was clicking, but now it’s not.”

He grunts a little, “Sounds like it’s probably the battery and the starter. When’s the last time you got an oil change?” You glance towards the sky, scrunching your face as you try and remember, “That’s too long to go without an oil change.” he chuckles, “I can get you fixed up, but not in all of this rain. Can I give you a lift somewhere?”

“No, I can’t - I can’t ask you to do that, I’ve taken enough of your time already and now you’re all soaked and,”

“I’m not gonna leave you in the rain,” he smirks, “Come on.”

“No, no, really! I can call somebody.” You lie, knowing good and damn well your phone is beyond dead. He scoffs, grabbing your hand, “I mean it, I have a backseat full of groceries!”

He pulls you into the street, opening the passenger side door to his truck and helps you in before he jogs back to your car. You watch as he grabs all of your groceries, all of them, in one hand at that, before he jogs back to his truck, opening the door again and depositing them at your feet. He runs back to your car, grabbing your backpack, purse, and your Taco Bell, before he jogs back to the truck, this time climbing into the drivers side.

“Frank,” you start, laughing nervously, “You really don’t have to do this. Really.”

“Don’t worry about it. I owe you anyway, for watching Mary whenever I’m running late.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Not really, but okay. I live off of Ventura.”

“Ventura?” He says as he pulls off, flipping a u-turn, “That’s like fifteen minutes from here. You can chill at my place, get cleaned up, eat your food, then hopefully the rain will have let up and I can come back and change out the battery.”

His place? You swallow hard. This is not how you’ve elaborately daydreamed about finally being alone with Frank Adler, “You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you and Mary have plans.”

“Nah,” he says absentmindedly as he drives, “She stays with Roberta on Friday nights. It’ll just be you and me.”

Great. Now you don’t even have a buffer. You tap your fingers nervously against your knees as you stare out the windshield, your mind - and heart - suddenly racing. You clear your throat and glance over at him, which is a bad idea. His skin is damp, his loose dark gray t-shirt - now soaked - sticking to his chest and stomach. You push your eyes to his outstretched forearm and have to take a breath. How is it possible to be attracted to a forearm? Has it honestly been that long for you? You flick your eyes back towards the windshield - you’re not even going to chance looking at his face.

He pulls you into a small trailer park, parking his truck in front of a turquoise house. The two of you grab your belongings, him again grabbing all of your groceries in one hand - another thing that turns you on that shouldn’t - and run towards his front door, Frank pushing his weight against it to pop it open.

He lets you push in first before he closes the door and sets your groceries on the counter. You glance around, finding an orange, one eye cat meowing at you from its place on the small table pushed against the wall.

“Fred,” he says, pushing the cat softly, “Off the table, come on man.”

Little remnants of Mary are scattered around, her small sneakers tucked underneath the chair, her Spongebob DVDs piled on top of the table, with advanced math books and an apple laptop. Frank is also scattered around the small, but strangely cozy place. A motor - or what you think is a motor - sits on the coffee table in the living room, tools strewn around it, and an open but turned over philosophy book lays on the couch.

“Do you wanna shower? I have some clothes you can change into if you want.”

You snap your head towards him, blinking rapidly as your brain tries to keep up with his words, “Oh, um, yeah. Okay, yeah.”

You follow him nervously to the bathroom, where he points out that you how to jiggle the knob a little to get hot water before he disappears into his room, only to return with a pair of sweatpants, an old t-shirt, a large pullover hoodie, and some socks. Just as he leaves the bathroom, there’s a hint of a smile, more like a smirk, on his face before he dips his head and shuts the door behind him.

The butterflies that fill your stomach.

You turn towards the shower, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You slam your eyes closed. This is definitely not how you’ve envisioned this moment.

----

You step out of the bathroom twenty some odd minutes later, drowning in his sweats and hoodie, but warm and definitely feeling a lot better. Rain still beats down on the small house, seemingly harder than before. The TV is on, either wrestling or MMA or whatever playing, the sound low. Frank is in the kitchen, changed into a slightly dirty white t-shirt, complete with a little pocket, and baggy jeans, his feet bare - something else that turns you on that shouldn’t.

He hasn’t noticed you yet and you’re unsure if you want him too. You run your hand over your hair, towel dried as best as you could and pulled into a tight bun to try and keep it from curling and frizzing, with a scrunchie that you hope is Mary’s. You shove your hands into the front pocket of the hoodie and take a few steps, clearing your throat as a small, nervous smile plays on your lips.

Frank glances over at you as the microwave beeps, “Feel better?”

You nod slowly, “Much. Thank you again.”

“Not a problem, although, I’ll need you to keep this to yourself. I have appearances to keep up.” He says with a straight face.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckle.

He nods and points at a house across a small patch of grass, “My neighbor, Roberta, thinks I’m a nice guy,” he shrugs and you laugh again, “So, I constantly have to remind her that I am not.”

Your smile grows as you see your phone plugged into the charger, knowing that you weren’t the one to do so, “Of course. I will be more than happy to let people know that you sped right past me in my desperate time of need.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles, holding out a plate to you, “You know they’re getting rid of the Mexican pizza, right?”

Your eyes widen as you take your heated up tacos from him, “No way!”

He throws up his hands as he pulls his microwavable burrito out of the wrapper and throws it on his plate, “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

You follow him into the living room and plop down on the opposite side of the couch, as far as you can get away from him, and tuck your feet underneath your butt, “The Mexican pizza is the staple of their menu, how could they do this?”

Frank shrugs again, “Trying to class the place up a bit I guess.”

You snort as you take a bite, “You can’t class up the drunk capital of the world, baby.”

The two of you fall into an easy silence as you eat, the rain still falling hard as you watch whatever it is you’re watching. You grimace as one man punches the other in the jaw before tackling him to the mat as they start to wrestle. You close your eyes and turn your head away, groaning as the same man starts rapidly punching the other in the face, “What um, what is this called?”

He chuckles, grabbing the remote, “Sorry, I’ll change it. Mary and I usually watch MMA together.”

“You let Mary watch this?” You ask shockingly, laughing a little.

He scrunches up his nose as he hisses, nodding his head slowly, “I probably shouldn’t, right? Too violent?”

“I mean,” you start, “Just a tad. I can see why she hit that kid in the face now.”

“Ah fuck, she told you about that?” He laughs, falling back into the couch.

“Oh yeah, she did.” You laugh harder.

He covers his face with his hands, “Not our most shining moment.”

You push your elbow into the back of the couch and prop your head up with your fist as you smile back at him. Hot uncle is really… hot in his element, and when he’s talking about the small, blonde human. It makes your ovaries quake.

“She’s a great kid, you know.” You say, “You’re doing great with her.”

He rolls his head towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips, “You think?”

His question catches you off guard a little - the earnesty of it. Like he really wants you to say yes. Like, he doesn’t believe that he’s doing a great job.

“Yeah. You are.”

He blinks at you - once, and then twice before he looks back at the tv, touching his knees together before he pushes them back out again. Mark down a third thing that turns you on - the manspread.

“She talks about you a lot,” he says after a few moments, “Not just to me, but Roberta too. She really likes you.”

You smile softly, “Yeah?”

He looks back over at you, nodding slowly, “Yeah. That’s half the reason Roberta comes to get her, you know, so she can have some girl time - talk about girl stuff. She needs that,” he nods again, clearing his throat, “And you, you know, you kinda help out with that in an unconscious way, so,” he clears his throat again, “It means a lot, it really does.”

You drop your head as a large smile spreads on your face, “Well,” you start, “Somebody has to offset your asshole-ness, so Roberta and I are doing our best.”

The two of you laugh again, him dropping his head, you glancing back at the tv as the air around you starts to suddenly shift. He takes a swig of his beer before he places it between his legs, holding the neck with both of his hands. He taps his thick fingers against the green bottle a few times before he turns his heads towards you, blinking as he chews on his bottom lip. Your lips part as your breath gets shallow, your eyes bouncing around his face.

Within a second, his lips are on yours, taking you by complete surprise. You’re frozen for a few seconds, your eyes still open, your breath hitching in your throat - but then… oh, but then. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his kiss slowly, placing your hands on his shoulders and gripping ever so tightly. He releases your lips quickly before he delves back in, this time harder, his tongue pushing into your mouth for the very first time.

You can taste the faint alcohol on his lips and you moan - slipping your hand around his neck to push your fingers into his surprisingly soft hair. He fumbles with his beer, stretching out his arm trying to find the table. The bottle clangs against the edge and then the top before he just lets it go, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud as the rest of the golden liquid pours out onto the carpet.

He crawls towards you, his knees sinking into the couch as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap and further down onto your back. You slip your hands up into his shirt, sliding them along his sides and up his sinewy back. You push yours hips into his as you feel his muscles flex underneath your fingers. The tips of his fingers are still cool from the beer bottle as they skirt across your stomach. You break the kiss to laugh at yourself when you jump at his touch, Frank’s low chuckle harmonizing with yours.

“You okay?” he whispers, a smile still on his face, his lips brushing against yours.

You nod, still giggling like an idiot, “Yeah, sorry,” you whisper, leaning up a little to kiss him again.

His hand continues to travel the length of you, reaching your bare breasts, where he cups gently. You gasp lightly as the pads of his fingers graze over your nipples, exciting them further as they tighten and protrude. He pushes his hips down into yours and rocks forward - so you can feel him. You dig your fingers into his sides, matching the slow pace of his hips with yours.

His lips push down to your jaw and neck, where he nips and sucks, his arm looping around your waist again. He pulls you into his lap as he sits back into the couch, his hands dragging up your back. You lean back and bite your bottom lip in uncertainty as your eyes search his. His lips are red and swollen, his eyes wide and sparkly as they drop to your lips before linking with yours again. He drops his hands to your waist, holding you firmly as he pushes his hips into yours.

You bunch the baggy hoodie and t-shirt that cover your chest and pull, bringing them both up over your head in one fell swoop and drop them to the floor. Frank takes a breath - deep and slow - as his eyes drop to your exposed flesh. He sends his eyes back up to yours seconds later and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as his hand slips up your back. He wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pulls you down, crashing your lips to his.

You reach for the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up, helping him shrug it off quickly before you fumble with the button on his jeans. He digs his fingers underneath the band of your sweatpants, lifting you up to yank them down your legs and throw them to the floor. You pop the button of his jeans and pull down his zipper before you reach for him, palming his warmth. He hisses, and pulls your body into his, tightening his grip on you as you stroke him.

He releases you just long enough to pull his jeans down his legs. He then grabs two handfuls of your ass, spreading your skin as the tip of his cock pushes against your slit. You grip his shoulders as you sink down on him - throwing your head back as he penetrates you. You feel his eyes on you as you gobble him up, wiggling your hips slowly as you adjust to his girth. He sinks back into the couch, resting his head on the back of it as his eyelids droop over his blues, his hands still gripping your ass.

You start to move. Pulling up on him before you sink back down, hissing as a fire starts to rage through you. You dig your nails into his shoulders before dragging them down his biceps as you let your head roll back on your neck, your mouth falling open as your eyes close.

Frank leans up to peer around the curve of your body to watch the primal connection between the two of you. He palms your ass hard, squeezing your flesh in his hands as he spreads it apart again as you bounce and rock into him. He slips a large hand up your back and spreads his fingers to push your naked chest into his. The hardness of his body against the softness of yours - your supple, full breasts pushing against his wide, hairy chest is… wildly erotic. The sturdiness of him, the tightness in which his hands hold you.

He starts to fuck up into you, bucking his hips to meet you on your way down - all the while keeping his hands full of your ass, kneading and groping - feeling you. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean back, pulling him with you. He peppers hot, wet, furied kisses over and between your breasts and along your clavicles as his hips dig into yours.

It feels good - he feels good. He leans away from you, pulling you up with him as he stands, He wraps his hands around your thighs and kisses you hard as he starts to pull you through the living room and the kitchen, back into his bedroom. He closes the door with his foot and lays you down gently, climbing over top you, his knees pressing into the mattress. He drags his dick through your folds before he centers at your slit, pushing gently - slowly - like he’s savoring the feeling.

He grabs your leg and hooks it over his waist as he starts to move again. He runs his hand the length of your calf, over your knee, down your thigh as he fucks you - harder than before, on the couch. You sweep your hands up his sides and along the small of his back, feeling his muscles as they flex while he fucks you good; deep. His name falls off your lips as more heat blooms across your skin, and he likes it - growls at it - the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue.

He grunts, squeezing your thigh in his hand as he pumps into you, “You feel so good, baby,” he slurs, “As good as I thought you’d feel.”

As good as I thought you’d feel. You slam your eyes closed as you groan at his admission. He pulls out of you suddenly and pushes his hands underneath your body, flipping you right over onto your stomach. He grabs your sides, his rough hands pulling you up onto your knees. He slips his hand between your folds and massages your clit with the pads of his fingers as he pushes into you again.

His free hand slips up your back, grabbing your shoulder and squeezing as he starts to fuck into you again. You grip the sheets in your hands as you lunge forward with each of his thrusts, your breasts bouncing, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. He releases your shoulder and flattens his hand between your shoulder blades, pushing hard to get you to rest your head and shoulders against the mattress. He grabs your hands and crosses them at the wrists over the small of your back as he holds them in just one of his large hands.

“God, Frank,” you groan, “Fuck.”

His thrusts are long and hard; pushing deep into your sex, stroking you in places that haven’t been touched in ages. Your wet muscles start to squeak with each push of his hips, a soft squish sound filling your ears. He grabs your ass again, squeezing hard, spreading you open so he can see all of you. You feel his fingers drift through your cheeks, circling your tight hole before his thumb starts to press gently.

You grit your teeth and push back into him as hard as you can, meeting his hips halfway. Your head swims as sweat and goosebumps pop up along your skin, your heart slamming against your chest. Electricity flashes through your body, making your toes curl as your ungodly howls float through the trailer. Hot uncle is a hot fuck - that’s for sure.

Frank slips out of you again but stays close - the tip of his cock still pressing against your slit. You open your eyes and glance back at him, your lips parted and breath heavy. He stares down at your cunt and ass, stroking himself from his base to his tip slowly, his free hand pulling softly on his balls. You pull your hand around to your sex and push your fingers along your clit, arching your back as you hiss loudly. You lick your lips as you keep your eyes on him - his hard, wide chest and thick biceps flexing as he pumps himself.

“This is a pretty pussy, baby girl,” he praises, releasing a deep breath, “So pretty.”

You whine at the words, your fingers picking up their pace as his praise falls over you. Your cunt is hot and swollen - so wet that your fingers glide with ease through your folds, your slick starting to slide down the inside of your thigh. You push your fingers into your opening and pump them quickly for him, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he growls at the sight.

You pull your fingers out and start rubbing your clit again, pulsing your hips slightly as you watch Frank stroke himself. His tip glistens as precum spurts from his slit, dripping off of him and splashing on the sheets. He grabs your ass, jiggling your flesh playfully before he slides his cock through your folds. He positions himself right at your opening, but doesn’t push - he just waits.

You wiggle your hips, giggling a little before you push back onto him, a smile curling onto your lips as your muscles spread for him. You push until you’ve swallowed him whole, until your ass is flush against his hips, and you feel him deep. You pull forward and then push back, over and over until you’re thrashing against him; you’re eyes slammed closed, your sounds loud and high pitched.

He pulls you up onto your knees and flattens your back to his chest. He nips at your neck with his teeth as he glues his hands to your bouncing tits, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. He pants in your ear, mumbling not so sweet nothings, his hot breath washing over the side of your face. He snakes his hand down your stomach - right down to your sex - and touches you ever so lightly.

That’s all it takes. Just the gentle tap of his rough fingers against your sensitive, sore, clit; and you’re gone. Your body tenses and then shudders as your orgasm spreads through you like lightening. Heat blooms across your skin as your pussy convulses - your clit jumping with each contraction, your muscles tightening around him.

He gets louder, his voice deeper and gruffer as each stroke gets harder and faster. Within minutes of your undoing, he’s spurting into you, coating your insides with his milky warmth. You fall forward onto your chest, Frank onto his back next to you as your chests heave. You stare at the opposite wall, blinking slowly as the world starts to center again - the sound of the television comes back to you - the sound of the rain.

You roll your head towards him and he does the same, the two of you just blinking at one another until a fit of giggles erupt from you. You don’t even know why. You laugh so hard that you have to cover your face with your hands. This definitely isn’t the way you’ve imagined this going when you’ve had your hand down your pants at night in your apartment. He rolls over onto his side and props his head up with his palm, smiling at you as you laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs, “You have a nice laugh.”

“That’s not very asshole-y of you, Frank.”

He chuckles, nodding slowly, “That’s right, okay, yeah. You have an awful laugh.”

You point at him, “Appearances, right?”

----

You wake with a slight start. You sit up quickly, your eyes squinted as the sun breaks in through the crack in the shade over the window. A sleeping Frank lays beside you. He’s on his stomach, his hands shoved underneath the pillows that hold his head, facing away from you. The tv still plays in the living room. Your discarded clothes still in a heap on the floor, the beer bottle still tipped over.

You glance back at the window and lift the shade slowly, a smile spreading on your face as you spot your old Jetta parked next to his old truck. You lay back down and pull the covers up over your head just as he shifts beside you, stretching out his long arm until it finds your hip.

You close your eyes.

You can’t wait to tell everybody how big of an asshole Frank Adler is.

#frank adler #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #you x frank adler #reader x frank adler #frank adler x black!reader #gifted #gifted fanfiction #gifted fanfic #gifted fic #black!reader #black reader #brittanys4k

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b4bbrainrot · 3 years

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Evangelo story part 2 <3

authors note: um im gonna be honest this is completely ripped off from a act 1 mission except w a lil romance also its probably really bad and longer than the others, lemme know what u think words: 933

After a few incidents with other Cleaners groups, you were appointed to Walker's crew of Cleaners. It's a big jump from your old job, you haven't been out in a while and you were feeling uneasy. Your first mission back out was finding lost medical supplies and restoring power to the diner. 'No biggie.' You thought to yourself. You sat by the gates, hearing the scratching of the Ridden and a new sound of mutation you've never heard before. It has really been a while.

"Hey Y/N! I didn't think you'd be joining us." Evangelo. He brings a flutter to your heart like the first time you saw him.

"Hi Evangelo! Yeah, Phillips told me to go since others are busy." It still shocked you how tall he was next to you. Also surprised you with the way he kept his blue jacket clean despite being the go-to-man for Ridden missions. "I haven't been out in forever, I'm kind of scared." You looked down, saddened. The last time you were out, you lost a loved one. They were the love of your life, the one who was there since you were a kid. Of course General Phillips had to send a non-immune person to the most Ridden infected area with you. It wasn't easy holding them as they turned, worms swimming in their eyes, being the one to put them down.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm here. I'll be right next to you." He lifts up your face with his hand, making you look up at him. It feels like a dream to be in his hands.

Your time together was cut short as the last two cleaners, Walker and Mom, arrived. The four of you clear the area of Ridden, including the new one you haven't seen, Snitcher, they called it. Even killing it called a horde. True to his word, Evangelo stayed near you, making sure the Ridden didn't get close. It didn't take long to find the one of boxes of medical supplies right next to the dead bodies of the old group. The sight reminded you of the past and it hurt. "You alright?"

You turned to see Evangelo, holding a hand out so you could stand up from your kneeling position on the floor. You took his hand and stood up, while forcing a smile, you said, "Oh yeah totally. Is this the last of it?"

He looked like he was going to say something else but chose not to. "Yeah, want to take another look at any of the places before we go to the saferoom?" You looked around, collecting supplies and healing yourself in the first aid cabinet. Once you were done, you four went into the saferoom, locking the door behind you. A tiny snack break was taken along with restocking with the KSC supply box.

“Woah, it’s like War-mart in here!” Evangelo said, causing you to giggle. You sometimes don’t understand how he can stay like a ray of sunshine even in the most horrible situations. Maybe that’s one of the many reasons you like him so much. Everyone was set and ready to head out again, you held one of the boxes in your hands, carrying it all the way to the diner. “Get that generator up and running. We can’t afford to lose those supplies. But be prepared when you do, because every Ridden in the vicinity is going to come running.” General Phillips said through the radio. After setting up razor wires and the minigun, which you always wondered why it’s called a minigun, it’s huge, Walker goes to turn on the generator and runs back in position. You didn’t realize how fun using the minigun is. Piercing through the Ridden and the mutations. Even caused a car to explode. Time had passed and so did the Ridden’s interest on the diner. Everyone, including the guards on top of the building, went inside, making sure the medical supplies were safely secured. “I am not sure if Holly and Hoffman made it safely to the diner but I’ve sent them as replacement for Y/N and someone to accompany them to Fort Hope. The next area will not be easy.” As if on a queue, they appeared. Goodbyes were said and Evangelo, being the sweetheart he is, offered to guard you as you got back. It was a short trip back to Fort Hope so the two of you walked slowly, appreciating being in each other’s presence without a worry. The whole diner thing managed to clear the area of Ridden for now. Once the gates were in clear sight, Evangelo radioed in that it was safe to open the gates. Someone on the other side said that it’ll take a few minutes. While you were busy looking at your surroundings, Evangelo took the time to look at you. The more he does, the more he undoubtedly falls in love with you. “Hey Y/N, I know we never have time to talk outside of the training home but now we do, well for a tiny bit, can I kiss you?” His question caught you off guard, you didn’t know what to say. “Of course, that’s if you want to. I mean, no press-”

You pull him down to give him a kiss on the lips. The two of you stayed like that for a bit before hearing the lock on the gates open, causing you two to separate. If more time with Evangelo meant going out on dangerous missions, you know you’ll be safe with the funniest, bravest man there is.

#back 4 blood #b4b #evangelo #b4b evangelo #my fics #evangelo fluff

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

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When Stars Ignite - Chapter 8

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Welcome back to Part 2 of the HPHM Rockstar AU! New location, new songs, new drama. Buckle up, we're going for a ride!

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Language

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

You keep on saying you'll be mine for a while

You're looking fancy, and I like your style

You drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy

You keep on shouting, you keep on shouting

I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day

~ Kiss - Rock And Roll All Nite ~

Despite it being her third tour with Equinox now, Lizzie would probably never stop being amazed at the incredible machinery that stood behind every single one of their shows.

Now, two weeks after they had started out in London, their route had seen them through Bristol and on to Birmingham. All the familiar routines had established themselves again as if they hadn’t spent a whole month apart at all. Like cogs in a well tuned machine, everyone was working together in well established patterns to make each show unforgettable for those who came to see them play.

It didn’t matter whether one was part of the tech crew, the management, security or the band themselves; they were all like a big, chaotic but loveable family. Of course, Lizzie couldn’t deny that this time around there was considerably more tension to be felt backstage than she was used to, but fights were something happening even in the best of families; at least, that’s what she was telling herself.

Their soundcheck being over, Lizzie had just left the stage with Skye, waiting for the others to catch up. Even though the roof of the arena they were playing in tonight was still closed, Lizzie could feel a bead of sweat running down her spine.

It had been uncharacteristically hot for weeks now, very unusual for a British summer. Not that she was complaining, Lizzie typically loved everything about the hot weather; but the dampness that it brought with it made it almost unbearable to move, setting everyone’s nerves on edge. Hopefully it would just rain soon and be done with it; there was nothing better to clear the air than a good summer storm.

At least for them, however, the heat of the sun would soon be replaced by the spotlights burning down on them. Even after so many years of playing on stages of every size and format, Lizzie had trouble fighting the nervous feeling spreading from her stomach through her body. She was always the first one to enter the stage, the beat of her drums building up the mood until one after the other of her friends would enter and add their own instruments to the sound. As soon as she started playing she was in her element, every flare of nerves forgotten; but until then, she was stuck feeling like in free fall.

Lizzie reached into the pocket of her shorts, her fingers finding the familiar shape of the red plectrum she was always carrying with her. It had belonged to Orion before it had found its way into her possession; it was one of the plectrums he had used on the first tour they had ever played. Without thinking about it, she drew it out and let it wander through her fingers, a fun little trick Orion had taught her to help channel her focus when her stage fright was setting in.

“What’s that you got there, little rockstar?”

Charlie had finished his work on Merula’s keyboard and joined them at the stage entrance. Lizzie hadn’t noticed him approaching and jumped when he spoke, dropping the plectrum to the ground. Before she could pick it up again, Skye had gotten hold of it, turning it around between her fingers with a confused look.

“That looks familiar,” she mused, examining the colourful piece of plastic. “Is that one of our old plectrums?”

Lizzie tried snatching it from her hands but Skye quickly moved it out of her reach.

“No, it’s not, it’s just a lucky charm.”

She could tell Skye didn’t buy her explanation. “Why would you have one of these?”

Lizzie scowled at her friend as she tried in vain to reach Skye’s hand. “None of your business, Parkin. Give it back.”

Skye made an indignant sound as Charlie jumped to Lizzie’s aid; playing out his advantage in height, he unceremoniously plucked the plectrum from Skye’s fingers and handed it back to Lizzie with a wink. Giving him a grateful look, she let it disappear in the depths of her pockets.

“You’re a real spoilsport, Weasley,” Skye snorted.

“And you’re a nuisance,” Lizzie said in Charlie’s stead.

Charlie shook his head. “Hearing you two talk, I might just believe the rumours about your relationship.”

“I do have standards, you know,” Lizzie rolled her eyes, chuckling at Skye’s sound of protest.

Lizzie’s attention was drawn away from their bickering when she saw Orion and Everett were still standing on stage, engaged in a heated discussion. She stifled a sigh; Everett was still at odds with Orion’s decision to perform the new songs himself. There wasn’t one day he would spare them his complaints. Although Everett had always been a person with a temper, Lizzie couldn’t remember him ever being angry at one of them for so long.

Orion, however, wasn’t responding to Everett’s aggressive demeanour. Ever the calm and collected person, it took a lot more for him to lose his centre; Lizzie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him anything but level-headed at all. And sure enough, even when Everett left him standing with a dismissive gesture, he only looked after him with a tired expression.

In contrast, Everett’s face was clearly showing his annoyance. He tried to hide it behind his usual sneer when he saw them looking, but the way his shoulders were tensed was speaking volumes. His posture only changed when he walked past where Artemis was still working on her explosives. She was bent deeply over the igniter she was wiring, so concentrated on her task she didn’t even notice Everett coming up behind her.

“A little lower, sweetheart. If you have to mess with our pyros, you might as well give us a proper show.”

Artemis straightened up with a face like thunder. “Go fuck yourself.”

Everett shrugged. “I don’t need to, I have plenty of people willing to do that for me. I can bump you up the queue if you like?”

Rolling her eyes, Artemis gathered up her things and moved to the other side of the stage, as far away from all of them as possible.

“Why can’t he just shut up for a second,” Charlie growled as they watched Everett strut off with a self-satisfied smirk. “I’m making no progress with her whatsoever. I’m still trying to convince her that we’re not all dickheads. Ev’s attitude is definitely not helping.

“Is it still so bad with her?” Lizzie wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Charlie admitted, “I don’t know how to get through to her. She’s a tough nut, that one.”

“Tell me about it,” Lizzie said. “I’ve never met anyone so determined to not be nice to anyone.”

“Surprised there’s people out there not wanting to be your friend?” Merula scoffed as she joined them.

“Actually, I am,” Lizzie said. “I even managed to convince you to be my friend, after all.”

“If you want to call us friends,” Merula snorted, but Lizzie knew she was teasing her.

She chuckled and turned to Charlie. “Do you have any idea why she’s so frosty?”

Charlie shrugged, looking as clueless as they came. “If only I knew. She’s giving me no chance to find out either, as soon as the work’s done, she’s off.”

“Sounds like she needs to get a few drinks in to loosen up,” Skye said. “Probably much easier to handle her then.”

Charlie looked at her incredulously. “You do realise how creepy that sounds, right?”

“Don’t be stupid, you know what I mean,” Skye rolled her eyes, “but seriously, who says no to a free drink and some good company?”

Charlie watched Artemis work her way through the remaining igniters. He didn’t seem convinced by Skye’s suggestion but shrugged anyway. “Might as well give it a shot at this point, but if she bites me, I’ll hold you accountable.”

***

Just like the weather forecast had promised, the temperatures hadn’t dropped one bit until it was time to enter the stage. And even if a cooling breeze would be blowing outside, it would stand no chance of reaching the fired up masses filling up the arena.

Lizzie wasn’t sure where it was warmer, down between the thousands of people singing along to their music, or up with them on stage where the heat of the spotlights made her wish for a cold shower.

They were already halfway through the setlist and as always, time seemed to be racing by.

Their fans were fantastic tonight as well; the arena was sold out up to the last seat and the crowd was incredibly enthusiastic. They were reacting to every prompt they were given, whether it was a challenge to cheer louder, sing along or clap to the beat. It was shows like these that reminded Lizzie time and time again that she had the best job in the world.

Everett was giving a stellar performance tonight; he had the whole stadium wrapped around his little finger like only he could, and the fans were cheering him on as he stepped back from the microphone to join the sound of his guitar with the rest of them.

Lizzie turned her head to Orion, who was already waiting for her to give him his cue. She counted down the remaining beats in her head before she gave him a nod. When he turned his attention from her and began playing his solo part, Lizzie couldn’t help but grin. The people were screaming themselves into a frenzy as Orion worked his magic on his guitar.

He never planned what he was going to do beforehand, not one solo the same as the day before. His brow was furrowed in concentration and his lips ever so slightly parted as his fingers flew up and down the neck of the guitar. In moments like these, everything else faded into the background for him; there was nothing left but him and his music.

As Lizzie watched his fingers dance with dizzying speed, her flushed skin burned at the memory of what other magic they were able to do. The thought almost made her miss a beat.

Almost.

She caught herself at the last moment before anyone could notice. She was glad everyone else was too busy to see the blush spreading on her face. But even if they had, they would never have suspected that it didn’t come from the incredibly high temperatures, but something else entirely.

The song ended with a bang, Lizzie hitting two cymbals and the bass drum at the same as KC let all the spotlights flare up. Almost blinded by the brightness flooding the stage, Lizzie closed her eyes and dipped her head back, breathing heavily. For a fraction of a second, the fading sound of the music was still hanging in the air, everyone holding their breaths, before it gave way to the cheers erupting from the crowd.

Lizzie smiled to herself, waiting for her racing heart to slow, before setting her mind onto the rhythm of the next song. The crowd was still cheering and she waited a moment longer until everyone was ready and Orion had stepped behind his own microphone. The next song was one of the unpublished ones and even two weeks after striking their deal with the label, Orion hadn’t let Everett sing one single verse of them.

Lizzie took a deep breath and set the rhythm by hitting her drumsticks against each other a few times. Luckily, it was one of the slower songs so they all had the chance to calm down a little. Orion’s melodic voice carried into the vast space of the stadium over the hushed crowd and Lizzie felt a shiver run down her spine; she had loved this song from the first time Orion had let her hear it.

The crowd seemed to share her opinion; many had taken out their phones and lit the screens, waving them through the darkness in what was looking like a sea of stars. It wasn’t quite the same sight as it had been when lighters had still been allowed in the auditoriums, but Lizzie was loving the sight nonetheless.

All of the new songs they had played so far had been very well received. They made sure to switch them every night so no one got too overexposed, but whatever ones Orion chose, they were always met with great enthusiasm.

The only unrecorded song they were playing night after night was, much to everyone’s surprise, not one of Orion’s creations. Even after Orion had given his consent, Everett hadn’t stopped pestering Ethan until he had agreed to give a few of Everett’s songs a shot. Most of them weren’t nearly as well liked as the ones Orion hadn’t even finished yet, but there was one song that had instantly become so popular with their fans that Ethan had decided to make it a permanent addition to the set list for the rest of the tour.

Everett had revelled in his triumph over Orion; at least that’s how he saw it. And Lizzie had to admit that it really was a catchy melody. But much to Everett’s dismay, whenever Orion picked up his guitar and did what he did best, all eyes were on him, and him alone. He was pouring his heart and soul into the music he played, and people could tell. Like the Pied Piper, he commanded everyone’s attention without even trying to.

That was probably what angered Everett most; the fact that Orion wasn’t even trying.

Even now, Everett was scowling darkly at Orion as he was singing the song in Everett’s stead. Lizzie tried to concentrate on keeping a steady beat, but her eyes were drawn back to their frontman’s menacing expression.

She couldn’t help the feeling that a storm was coming.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion amari #skye parkin #merula snyde #charlie weasley #artemis hexley #lizzie jameson #rockstar au #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

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just-come-baek · 4 years

Text

get in, loser 1

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: How to get noticed by the most dangerous man in the country? I guess stealing his sport car and dying it hot pink must catch his attention.

A/N This series will be around 5 chapters long. New updates shall be posted once every two weeks I hope. Also, @starlightbebes challenged me into posting chapter 1 on Taeyong’s birthday, so I won. ^^ Pay up.

***

Considering it was Saturday night, the city seemed oddly serene. Any other night, I’d witness some wild shit, yet tonight, it was quite peaceful. No prostitutes were arguing with no-cooperative customers, no inexperienced adolescents throwing up in the public trash cans, no aggressive football spectators fighting with their rivals.

Despite the calm aura, the city was vibrant; colorful neon signs were blinking, inviting people into different liquor establishments, cars honking on drunken pedestrians jaywalking across the streets, a few undiscovered musicians playing on the main square with plenty of tourists recording them.

Each establishment promised an unforgettable night, and for some people, it would be a real dilemma to pick one among such a rich palette of entertainment. I, on the other hand, had a pretty well-defined plan of stealing a fancy car – a precious possession of one, infamous crime lord in the country.

It wouldn’t be my first car theft, yet it surely was going to be the most meaningful one. Everyone in town knew that Lee Taeyong was up to no good. When it came to his personal taste, though, it was impeccable. The most expensive, the most extravagant, the fastest cars belonged to him, so stealing one of his astounding vehicles would be the cherry on top of my villainous career.

Rumor had it, tonight he’s celebrating in his VIP club – the Cherry Bomb; if you ask me, its name is a little bit tacky, but who I am to judge? The crowd of people trying to get inside was enormous, so despite its name, the local must’ve been quite profitable.

Being the most dangerous crime lord in the country must be a pretty time-consuming profession – I wouldn’t expect him to get to the club before midnight. Regardless of what must’ve been on his to-do list tonight, his schedule was bound to be packed.

It was almost 1 o’clock when matte black carbon-fibred McLaren P1 LM with “DRAGON” written on its registration plate pulled over in front of the club; in an instant, people in the queue grew silent, mesmerized by the handsome man who nonchalantly got out of the car, tossing the keys to the valet boy.

Lee Taeyong was just as good-looking as he was deadly – with his styled-up tousled vibrant-red hair, ripped black jeans, and a top-brand leather jacket, he made people turn their heads despite their gender and sexual orientation. In all honesty, I did my research, I had dozens of pictures of him, and I knew what to expect. The pictures didn’t do him justice, though. His natural beauty was enchanting, but when topped with his charisma and cocky confidence, it was a lethal mixture.

When Taeyong strolled inside his establishment, I, just like the other people who were in rapture, could finally get my shit together. It was remarkably difficult to remain in the right state of mind when he was within your eyesight, and tonight, it was going to be my most significant theft, so I couldn’t get distracted.

“You can do this,” I encouraged myself before running across the street, ready to execute the first stage of my plan.

I didn’t dare to doubt my skills for even a second. Tonight I would succeed, and Taeyong would have to call an Uber to get back to his grand mansion.

***

It’s been three days since my ingenious heist, and I was getting impatient. I wanted Taeyong to find me and talk to me, yet I was waiting and waiting, and he didn’t seem interested in getting his car back. It was actually disappointing. I couldn’t contain my curiosity; I just needed to see his reaction after I had his car tuned. I had made sure to be caught on their CCTV, so he would quickly track my traces, but it only proved me he was working with rookies.

Checking the time on my wristwatch, I walked into the run-down car repair shop, wanting to sneak one last peek at my masterpiece before I’d put a cover over it so Taeyong would gasp upon the big reveal. The new car paint looked amazing – Doyoung, my friend and a mechanic, did a great job dying it hot pink. Too bad, he was too scared to wait for Taeyong with me. I couldn’t blame him, though. Taeyong was known for his short temper, and it was understandable that Doyoung didn’t want to stick around to witness Taeyong’s wrath.

“What is taking him so long?” I asked myself as I plopped down in a ripped leather armchair, cracking a cold one. “How long does it take them to find the guys who don’t want to be found?” I wondered, pulling my phone, scrolling through the new content on my social media.

It was taking them forever, but when the sun was slowly setting behind the horizon, I could hear a vehicle park in front of the car repair shop. Judging by the engine’s roars, the car was expensive.

It must’ve been Taeyong himself.

“Finally,” I hollered as I got on my feet, throwing my slowly dying phone on the armchair. If the crime lord showed up, he needed to be welcomed accordingly. Taeyong was a royalty amongst gangers, and he deserved the best treatment.

Midnight blue Bugatti Chiron registered under “FURY” stopped on the parking lot, and I waited for Taeyong to get out. Seconds passed, and he was still sitting comfortably in the vehicle, building the tension. I didn’t feel stressed, though. Although we hadn’t been properly introduced, I knew a whole lot about him – he was famous for his rage. However, right now, he had to be impressed rather than enraged. Or at least, it was the emotion I hoped for him to feel.

Only a complete psycho, and me, would dare to steal one of his automobiles.

The descending sun was blinding me, and when I raised my hand to block the direct sunlight, the car doors opened. Even in daylight, Taeyong looked like a five-course meal. Today, he was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a Gucci T-shirt; the outfit was simple, yet on him, it looked elevated.

“Very impressive,” he shouted loudly before he coolly walked over. “You’ve got balls, I have to give you that,” he added, and I smirked, considering his words as a compliment. Men of high positions often have trouble complimenting people, let alone women, and Taeyong didn’t seem to be an exception.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, too,” I answered politely, offering him a handshake, which he contemptuously denied. “I must say, I expected to meet you sooner,” I jabbed, but Taeyong only looked at me condescendingly before he walked inside, impatient to check up on his stolen property.

“My people located you yesterday morning, but I wanted to see you in person, and you must know, I am a busy person,” he explained, studying the shabby interior. “No one steals from me.”

“Well… I already have, and it was easier than I previously assumed,” I answered confidently before approaching the cover. “I have a surprise for you, are you ready?” Taeyong didn’t even flinch, and I considered his indifference as an agreement. With one quick pull, I uncovered the vehicle, allowing him to see my teeny tiny change. “I hope you like pink.”

Taeyong grew silent.

I had told Doyoung to change the car paint to hot pink, yet Taeyong didn’t even blink. I expected him to get pissed or, at least, annoyed, but when I looked at his features, I couldn’t see any reaction.

“Actually, pink is my favorite color,” Taeyong emotionlessly announced, and I only stared at him in utter confusion.

What the fuck?

“Well… I expected a different reaction,” I spoke, the wires in my brain incapable of coming up with anything intelligent. A guy with such a foul reputation favors the color pink.

Imagine my shock.

Apparently, Taeyong is a man of many layers.

“Who are you?” Taeyong condescendingly asked as he sat comfortably in the armchair, putting my phone on the armrest. Calmly, he leaned backward, crossed his legs, and entwined his fingers over his bent knee, waiting for me to tell him everything he wanted to know.

“I think you already know who I am,” I stated, and he just stared at me intensely. His people must’ve done a background check on me, yet he still wanted to hear it again. Stealing his car was one thing, but disrespecting him about such trivial matter seemed way worse. Doing something so risky and bold was admirable in his eyes, but wasting his time like this was just annoying, so I simply did what was expected of me.

I told Taeyong about my childhood – how I spent my allowance on go-kart races; it was my escape whenever my father got drunk and picked up fights with my mom. Then, I disclosed my secrets on how I began stealing cars – when I was seventeen, because of excessive drinking, my father needed a liver transplant, and it was the only way of getting money remotely quickly. Later, at the age of twenty-one, I participated in my first street race, though this time, it wasn’t because I needed money – I did it because I enjoyed the thrill.

“How did you steal it? How, on Earth, did you go inside the club without any of my workers noticing you?” Taeyong asked, and although he must’ve already concluded my operating plan, he wanted me to explain it myself. This time around, I didn’t even hesitate.

“I blended in,” I shortly answered with a shrug. “It wasn’t that difficult to find out all the information I needed to get inside unnoticed. I checked all your staff’s social media accounts; it took me like… three days of stalking to get their names and work schedules. That night, I sneaked into the club right after your arrival, and when somebody asked me something, I told them I was busy doing the thing the manager wanted me to do. They just assumed I am the new girl. Normally, I don’t do things like that when I steal a car, but this time around, I wanted to do something extra. Are you impressed?” I challenged, and Taeyong cocked his eyebrow, deeply in thought.

“Huh, last question. Why have you done it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I inquired rhetorically, and Taeyong didn’t even bother to give me a proper answer. He seemed bored, and it was making me feel a little bit fed-up. “Well… in all honesty, I am sick and tired of freelancing, I want to work for you,” I elaborated, and Taeyong just chuckled as if I just told him a hilarious joke. Why was he laughing? It was a reasonable proposition, and besides, I’ve already proven my amazing skills.

“I’m not recruiting, sorry,” Taeyong spoke when he stood up and glanced at his pink vehicle. Well… it was a harsh rejection. “You have one day to return my car, or I will have my henchman kill you,” he added, walking up to me until he invaded my personal space.

“Asshole,” I whispered loud enough for him to hear me. Taeyong already knew what I was capable of, yet for some reason, he still decided not to give me a chance. It was a dick move, and I couldn’t let him have the last word.

“You’re feisty. I like that,” Taeyong said at last, “Let’s meet on Friday, at the Superhuman. Midnight. Don’t be late.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, and don’t forget to bring my fucking car.”

***

“She’s here,” Jaehyun told Taeyong as soon as the gatekeeper forwarded the message. “I can’t believe you didn’t kill her back then,” he added matter-of-factly, remembering the infamous car theft. No matter how many times he thought about it, he couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so stupid to mess with his boss. What puzzled him even more, however, was the fact that Taeyong seemed rather impressed by this woman’s actions.

“I was surprised too,” Taeyong answered honestly. “Can you believe she had the audacity to ask me to recruit her?”

Jaehyun was stupefied. “Well… are you going to?”

“Actually, I am not sure,” Taeyong replied hesitantly. It wasn’t how the regular recruitment process worked, but the woman intrigued him. She had seemed quite keen on working for him, and he was curious how much she wanted this job. “I haven’t decided yet,” Taeyong added, and Jaehyun looked at his boss in concern; Taeyong was impulsive in his decisions, and the fact that he hasn’t made up his mind yet was rather peculiar.

“You can’t be serious,” Jaehyun commented, hoping for Taeyong to come back to his senses. This wasn’t the way the things were dealt with here; if someone dared to mess with the leader, death was the kindest thing they could hope for. If other members found out about it, they might’ve thought Taeyong was getting soft. She disrespected the leader, and she ought to have faced the consequences.

“Bring her in, Jaehyun,” Taeyong ordered, dismissing Jaehyun’s concerns.

“Of course.”

“I expected to meet you in one of the VIP lounges, not in your office,” I spoke the second Taeyong’s henchman led me into an expensive-looking office at the back of the club. “You should’ve given me heads-up, I would’ve dressed accordingly,” I carried on, glancing down at my not suitable clothes.

My outfit consisted of a cropped T-shirt, denim shorts, fishnets, and a pair of combat shoes, and it did not look appropriate under these circumstances. I was expecting a flirty conversation in Taeyong’s natural habitat of leather lounges, expensive drinks, and beautiful girls competing amongst each other for his attention, but instead, he surprised me with a job interview in his private office at the back of his club. If only I had known, I would’ve dressed suitably.

“Leave us alone, Jaehyun,” Taeyong spoke in an authoritarian tone, and his associate left the room without any further comment.

The second I heard the doors click, I let out a breath of relief. For some reason, the henchman’s presence gave me chills. It was difficult to remain composed with Taeyong in such close vicinity, however, when accompanied by the other dangerous man, I felt uncomfortably anxious.

Taeyong’s piercing gaze was fixated on me, and it made me blush a little bit. He was hot as hell, and in all honesty, any woman would react this way if alone with him.

With one fluid motion, he commanded me to sit, and with a sheepish smile on my face, I obliged.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” I started, but Taeyong only smirked, sliding an A4 format envelop across the desk. “What is this?” I asked in confusion, but Taeyong just sat back, entwining his fingers together, enjoying my reaction.

Gang members didn’t sign employment contracts – that’d be silly.

“You admittance,” he started, and I cocked my eyebrow, trying to understand what the hell was going on. “Inside the envelope, you’ll find all the necessary information about your new assignment. Bring this car to me within a week, and you’ll be officially the newest addition to the family.”

It was interesting.

Taeyong had already seen me in action, yet he needed another proof of my qualifications. Actions speak louder than words, but my most recent ones screamed and ought to echo in his ears for years!

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s just a regular procedure, don’t take it personally,” Taeyong added, but I wasn’t exactly buying that. There must’ve been something that he didn’t tell me. There was a catch, it must’ve been. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have that playful spark in his eyes the whole time.

“I’ll text you the meeting location sometime this week,” he added with a genuine smile, and I didn’t even dare to question how he got my number. “Good luck, doll,” smirking, Taeyong whispered, and I started questioning his intentions.

It must’ve been a set-up.

“I look forward to hearing from you,” I answered respectfully, quickly standing up, wanting to run out of the club. Curiosity was killing me; I had to peek inside the envelope, but I couldn’t do it in front of Taeyong. I hoped he acknowledged me as fearless and confident, and I couldn’t allow him to change his opinion about me. One hesitant glance at the papers could ruin my image, and I couldn’t let it happen.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t be serious! Tell me you didn’t recruit her,” Jaehyun angrily stormed into Taeyong’s office, fed up with the leader’s decision. The girl left the club alive, and it’s not the outcome he anticipated. Jaehyun would break her neck if only Taeyong told him to. Letting her scot-free was a mistake, and it was crazy that Jaehyun was the only one to realize it.

“Calm down, Jaehyun,” Taeyong announced casually, making Jaehyun a bit confused. “I did give her an assignment, but don’t you worry about it. She’s gonna fail. She’s good, but not that good,” Taeyong added, and both of them smirked mischievously.

***

I’ve never been more anxious. My grip on the envelope was tight, my knuckles turning white, and I really had mixed feelings about opening it. Taeyong’s mischievous smirk couldn’t have been a good omen.

On the other hand, I couldn’t let the stress weaken me, so I did what any other person in my shoes would do – I went to the liquor store and bought the biggest bottle of gin they had. Regardless of what Taeyong had assigned me to do, it would be easier to digest when drunk.

Then I hailed the cab and dialed Doyoung’s number. He picked up after the fourth ring. “I’m coming over,” I quickly said, notifying him before my arrival. As my friend, he would help me if the alcohol was to fail.

“You’re alive, so I assume it didn’t go that bad,” Doyoung spoke when he opened the doors and let me in. Not bothering to greet him, I walked passed him and shoved the bottle of gin into his hands. “Are we celebrating?” He asked, kicking the doors shut, “please, tell me we’re celebrating.”

“I don’t know,” I answered, plopping into an old armchair, throwing the envelope on the coffee table. “We’re about to find out. Taeyong gave me another assignment, but pour me a drink first. I’m not sure I can handle it sober,” I explained, and Doyoung knew what to do. Within a minute, he was back with two Scooby-doo mugs and a bottle of tonic.

“It can’t be that bad,” he started as he sat down on the couch on the other side of the coffee table, pouring us drinks, which were basically 80% alcohol. “I mean… you’ve stolen his car; can it get any more challenging than that?” Doyoung asked, and I actually had to admit he was right. Taeyong’s the most dangerous crime lord in the country; as long as he didn’t make me steal Kim Jongun’s tank, I should be fine. However, on the second thought, I didn’t know Taeyong that well, so the guess might’ve not been that farfetched.

“I don’t want to open this envelope,” I confessed as I picked up the mug with Shaggy’s face and took a large gulp.

“Do you want me to do that for you?” Doyoung proposed, and I nodded. Perhaps if Doyoung read it out for me, it would’ve been easier to accept my fate. “Because you’re all stressed out, I’m all fidgety too,” Doyoung added before he grabbed the envelope, looking inside.

“What does it say?” I inquired in curiosity, hoping to hear some good news.

“It looks like you gotta steal a yellow Ferrari LaFerrari,” Doyoung started, as he pulled out a picture of my target. OK, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, it was doable. “And it belongs to someone called Yuta,” he spoke, and I jumped to my feet and snatched the papers out of Doyoung’s hands in disbelief.

It must’ve been a sick joke.

“It can’t be,” I whispered, refusing to comprehend what Taeyong wanted of me. He was a complete psycho if he thought I could steal one of Yuta’s cars.

“Do you know this dude?” Doyoung inquired, reaching for his cup with Fred.

“Do I know this dude?” I deadpanned, trying not to burst out in tears. I was royally screwed. “It’s Nakamoto Yuta. He’s the royalty of Yakuza. He’s basically Taeyong’s biggest rival,” I explained, and it got Doyoung speechless.

“Well… it sucks,” he whispered, downing his drink, ignoring the burn. “What are you gonna do?”

“Good question,” I replied, coping Doyoung’s actions, drinking my gin to the very last drop. “Even if I manage to steal his car, how am I supposed to get it across the border? It’s a suicide mission.”

“Is there anything else in the envelope?” Doyoung asked, and I put all the papers on the coffee table. Among documents about Yuta’s bio, there was a check for 20 grand written under my name. “Mr. Bad Boy must’ve felt generous,” he commented, but I didn’t find it amusing. Mr. Bad Boy, as Doyoung eloquently put it, would kill me if I failed this mission.

“Generous or not, I’m gonna be dead if I don’t bring this car to him within a week,” I muttered, feeling helpless. I lacked ideas on how to conduct the theft successfully, and the time was slowly running out.

“You can do this,” Doyoung stated confidently, not even a sliver of hesitation in his tone. He was absolutely sure of my skills, and I wished I had as much faith in myself as he had in me. “We have no time to waste; pack everything you need, we’re going to Japan.”

“Do you have a plan, though?”

“We’ll come up with one on our way.”

***

Doyoung was right; we had no time to waste. God, in times like these, I was really thankful he was my friend. Right now, when I was a nervous wreck, he was the voice of reason. If it wasn’t for him, I’d get wasted and pass out in the poodle of my own vomit. Thanks to him, I was only slightly tipsy, but productive as fuck. We made a stop by my apartment and his car repair to get everything necessary, and then took a train to the harbor.

The first ferry to Japan was leaving the docks at 7 o’clock. The journey was about to last more or less 8 hours, it was plenty of time to finish the entire bottle of gin and come up with a foolproof plan on how to steal that Ferrari.

“How about you seduce Yuta, and he lets you borrow his car?” Doyoung voiced his seventh plan this morning, and in comparison to his previous ideas, it actually seemed doable. “It’s great in its simplicity,” he added, and I shook my head in disappointment. Even if I was his type, how was I supposed to bullshit my way into his pants without any Japanese skills?

“How about you seduce Yuta, and when he’s busy drilling your ass, I’ll sneak into his mansion and snatch the car?” I proposed, and Doyoung fake-gagged at the thought of doing this. Or maybe, he just has had one shot of gin too many. One could never be sure…

“How about you seduce Yuta and talk him into doing it in his car, and when you’re about to do it, I knock him out with a rock?”

“How about we go to Yuta’s club, and you challenge him in a singing duel, and you win the car fair and square?”

“How about we find Yuta’s doppelganger to steal his identity and pay him to steal the car for you?”

“How about we kidnap Yuta and keep him hostage until they give us the car?”

“How about we hypnotize Yuta into making him lend us his car?”

Truthfully, we struggled a lot while trying to figure out the best way to prove my worth to Taeyong. Stealing Yuta’s car wasn’t an easy assignment – some people would say it was impossible. Thankfully, we came up with one solution throughout our drunken brainstorm that wasn’t that bad…

We were so drunk that I couldn’t actually remember who came up with this idea. One second, Doyoung and I were brainstorming, then, a moment later, someone woke us up because we reached the shore.

“Come on, we have no time,” Doyoung said as he picked up his bag, urging me to pick up mine and get off the ferry. I rubbed my eyes and looked at him, wondering how, on Earth, he wasn’t hungover. “You’ve got only six days left…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I answered, groaning.

I had an unpleasant feeling in my gut, telling me this week was going to be awful, but at least we had figured out a plan. It was far from perfection, but with proper execution, I could pull this through.

***

By sheer luck, I managed to accomplish my seemingly impossible mission. Though I didn’t fully believe in the plan, we didn’t make a single mistake, and after three days of data analyzing and one night of the actual heist, we were on our way back.

Hopefully, it was the only recruitment assignment that Taeyong wanted me to fulfill.

On Friday, one hour before the meet-up, Taeyong sent me the location.

In an hour, I’d become one of his people, and I wanted to look worthy of the new position. Wisely, I chose my best outfit, deciding to wear a pair of black leather trousers, a modest white button-down shirt, and fancy boots on a 10 centimeters heel. I looked formal, but with a fierce twist, and I gave off that cutthroat businesswoman vibe. I lived for this outfit. And to top it all, I carefully applied make-up, making sure to highlight all of my features.

I expected to meet with Taeyong in his extravagant mansion, yet he surprised and scared me at the same time with his decision. This gig cost me a lot of stress, and the last thing I wanted was to meet with the most dangerous thug in the country in a deserted meeting point in the city outskirts.

Trying to remain calm, I sighed to shake off all types of negative thoughts. Terrifying scenarios were playing in my head in which Taeyong shot me in the head and dumped my body somewhere in the woods. Taeyong was a dangerous gangster, but I believed he had the honor and would not kill me without any concrete reason.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same thing about his henchmen – this Jaehyun guy in particular. It was obvious the guy hated me and was pissed with Taeyong because of me. I didn’t fancy meeting with him, it would be best if Taeyong and I could talk alone.

Punctually, I arrived at the meeting point. Nonchalantly, I got out of the vehicle, shut the doors close, and leaned against the hood, waiting for Taeyong to appear. The night was warm, yet a little bit windy – it was perfect for the employment celebration.

Taeyong was running a bit late, but I didn’t mind. Besides, he was the most wanted thug in the country; he wasn’t running late – anyone he was meeting with was just too early.

So I waited.

Thankfully, I had plenty of time to psych myself up, so when I heard an engine roar in the distance, I didn’t panic. I was confident enough to face Taeyong and genuinely smile in response to his compliments. This theft was epic, and I expected to hear how impressed he was of me. It was the only reaction I hoped to get.

I was right, it had to be Taeyong. Who else could’ve been in the jet black Audi R8 Spyder registered under “WHIPLASH”?

Having parked right beside me, Taeyong got out of the car, carefully inspecting the Ferrari. His focused eyes were studying the vehicle’s features as if trying to tell it indeed belonged to Yuta. In the meantime, I studied Taeyong’s outfit.

Tonight, he was wearing all black: a pair of high combat shoes, black cargo pants, a see-through shirt, and a leather jacket. The outfit was on point, but when topped with his new haircut – tousled and of powder pink color, Taeyong looked like a model. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out that modeling companies contact him every once in a while to recruit him.

“How did you do it?” Taeyong asked, his tone telling me he didn’t believe in my talent. Well… that hurt a little bit, but proving him wrong gave me a lot of pleasure at the same time.

“It wasn’t easy,” I started, not really wanting to spill the beans; especially, when the story wasn’t as impressive as he might’ve thought. “I really wanted this job, so I had to figure out a plan. You know how it is… you gotta discover your enemies’ weaknesses and use them to your advantage.”

“It doesn’t answer my question, doll,” Taeyong remarked, smirking at the nickname he once again used to refer to me. It must’ve really stuck with him. “I gotta be honest with you, I expected you to fail, but you actually did it. I’m impressed,” he added, and I smiled, swiping my hair to the back in a nonchalant manner.

“What can I say? I’m really good at what I do,” I replied, looking into his eyes, trying to remain in the confident pose. “Now, it would be a mistake not to hire me,” I trailed off, making Taeyong smirk again. He was gorgeous, but when that mischievous smirk decorated his face, he was just breath-taking.

With his hands in the pockets, Taeyong took a few nonchalant steps toward me and placed his hands on the hood of the car, leaning in, trapping me between his arms. His stern glace was trying to penetrate my mind, to read me, but I managed to remain calm.

I wanted to work for him, not to hop on his dick, and though the second option seemed rather tempting, I had my priorities set straight.

“From the moment I saw you, I knew you were special,” Taeyong whispered in a husky voice, and I looked up into his eyes, swallowing hard. He was indisputably intimidating, but I couldn’t let his charm overtake me. “You seem troublesome, but at the same time, awfully skilled.”

“You bet,” I answered, trying to ignore the fact that Taeyong just pushed his leg between my thighs, inching closer and closer with every second. “Is that how you treat all your employees?” I asked, trying not to lose my cool.

“They’re not employees, they’re family,” Taeyong clarified, and I rolled my eyes, actually expecting his kind of answer from him. “And that would be weird if I treated them this way, wouldn’t it?”

“They wouldn’t be your family, but your orgy if you ask me,” I spoke matter-of-factly, waiting for his reaction since I doubted anyone was this frank with him.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna be a huge pain in the ass?” Taeyong asked, hopefully not expecting an answer. “Quite talented one,” he added, dropping his head down to my neck, placing a delicate peck against my sensitive skin.

“But hey, it’s what keeps everything fresh and exciting,” I offered, suggesting looking on the bright side of these circumstances. “So… speaking of my recruitment…” I mentioned, internally wishing for Taeyong to keep his hands to himself. I was trying to be professional, and it was incredibly difficult with the boss, basically making out with my neck.

“One more test and you’re officially a new addition to the family,” Taeyong said sternly, finally pulling out. “You said you race, I want to see you in action,” he added, and I bit my bottom lip due to stress. Seriously? Another test? He got to be kidding me. “Don’t worry; it’s a formality at this point.”

Honestly, his words didn’t cheer me up at all. I had stolen his car, and then I had been to Japan to steal his rival’s car. And now, he wanted me to pass another test. Come on!

“All you gotta do is to give me a lift back to my mansion,” Taeyong announced, somewhat excited to see my driving performance. “The route takes up to 20 minutes, so I’m gonna give you ten. It sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

“What about your car? I wouldn’t leave it here if I were you,” I remarked, trying to make out a logical answer. I wouldn’t leave my bike here, let alone a sports car, knowing how much crime was going on in this particular part of the city.

“Normally, I’d not, but you see… I caught a flat tire,” Taeyong explained, and I cocked my eyebrow, trying to see which tire was pierced. I didn’t notice any damage, but then, Taeyong pulled out his gun, shooting through the left back tire, making his point. “It was an exceptionally unfortunate accident,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at him.

He was a mad man.

“OK, fine, get in, loser,” I said, inviting him inside the car. Having sat comfortably and fastened our seatbelts, Taeyong put the location into the GPS. “Are you gonna time me?”

“Of course,” Taeyong answered, extending his arm, staring at his expensive wristwatch. “You have ten minutes, starting… now.”

Carefully, I chose one of my playlists before driving off.

It was a wild ride. I was driving twice as fast as the road signs were telling me to while singing my heart out to Backstreet Boys’ biggest hits “Everybody” and “I Want It That Way”. At this point, Taeyong was probably questioning whether it was safe to get in the car with me, or not. Though I encouraged him to join me in this carpool karaoke, yet he decided not to.

The navigation system was giving me weird directions, trying to lead me into congestion. Listening to my driver’s instinct, I sped through some self-discovered shortcuts. Judging my Taeyong’s expression, he had no idea what I was doing.

In the middle of “I Want It That Way”, I had to speed up even more. Each song is about four minutes long, so I still had about three minutes left to make it to the mansion, and though I seemed rather calm, I was out of my mind.

I’ve gone too far to lose right now. I couldn’t let this short race end up my flourishing career. I had stolen two cars within two weeks, and both vehicles belonged to the most dangerous men in their countries. I couldn’t lose now.

Breaking probably all traffic laws, I managed to reach Taeyong’s mansion before the boys got to finish the last chorus.

“You’re a triple threat, doll,” Taeyong said, and I wondered what the third admirable thing about me was. Undoubtedly, he was impressed with my theft and racing skills, yet I didn’t have a clue what was the third factor. “You’re officially one of us,” he added, and I smiled widely, ecstatic to finally hear his words of approval.

After so much testing, I finally proved my worth to him, and he took me under his wings.

Having pulled out his phone, Taeyong gave me a few instructions. “From this moment onward, Lucas is your direct superior, you gotta report everything back to him; I texted you the address. Be there first thing in the morning. Better be on time, Lucas doesn’t like it when people are late.”

“Thank you, Taeyong.”

“Don’t thank me, doll,” Taeyong replied, opening the doors, ready to exit the vehicle. “You have no idea what you’ve got yourself into.”

“I’ve got one more question…” I hollered, and Taeyong sat back in the passenger seat, waiting for my final inquiry. “What am I supposed to do with this car?” I asked, and Taeyong shrugged nonchalantly, suggesting it was not his problem.

“Get rid of it, obviously,” Taeyong answered, confirming my suspicions. “It belongs to Yuta, and the last thing I want is him realizing that I have it. Burn it down, dump it in the lake, I don’t care, just make sure it’s not gonna be found.”

“Great,” I whispered, losing enthusiasm with each voiced letter. It was problematic to bring it here, yet disposing of it was going to be even worse.

“Don’t lose your spirit, doll,” Taeyong added, leaning down towards me. With his right hand, he raised my chin and pressed a delicate peck against the skin of my cheek. “Good luck, make your daddy proud,” he whispered before exiting the car, shutting the doors close.

Though Taeyong was long gone, I was sitting in the vehicle, not leaving the driveway. What the hell just happened? Not only was he using this stupid nickname, but then he dropped that daddy bomb. I was not prepared for this.

#taeyong smut #nct smut #neosmutcollective #taeyong angst #nct angst #taeyong #nct #nct 127 #nct u #mafia taeyong #crime lord taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong fanfiction #taeyong fanfic #taeyong story #mafia!taeyong #action #comedy

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ayyyez · 4 years

Note

Helloooo i looove you’re writing anyways I think there was a chitchat once about Tobirama opening up to his s/o. Do you think you can like add onto that if you can? If you can’t that’s totally fine ha ha

a/n: aw thank you kindly :) oh yes yes I love vulnerable moments with all my favs warnings: angst, mentions of sex (not explicit)

I feel like a lot of vulnerable moments where Tobirama opens up happen in your shared home - mainly late at night/early morning in bed. It’s sad hours up in the Senju household but it’s not all angst and trauma, sometimes it’s just random thoughts shared.

Before you get to this point though a lot of ground work has to be laid. It’s a ways into the relationship (you either have to have been friends with him for a long time or romantically involved for a long time) before he even thinks about opening up to you.

You have to be the one to coax it out of him. I don’t mean bugging him every night to tell you his secrets but rather, asking him questions that can lead him there.

Start off opening him slowly. He gets so lost in his own thoughts when he broods sometimes you have to bring him back to earth. “What’s on your mind?” “Nothing.” “It’s not nothing to you.” *sigh*. This is how you begin to show he can trust you.

It starts off with his concerns for the village and it’s people. He will tell you basic things and that is your queue to ask more questions to help him solve the problem or offer him comfort in the form of listening and touching him in soothing motions. The warmth of your body soothes him most.

He will begin to look to you for guidance. You don’t have to necessarily be smart of know the dance of politics, you just have to ask the right questions and make him voice his thoughts out loud. Unloading it onto someone else helps clear his head.

If you are familiar with politics and have a thorough knowledge of the shinobi world then most of your pillow talk is going to be filled with these discussion. Sometimes it gets the two of you so wired that you go for another round or two. Intelligence and empathy turns him on shh you didn’t hear that from me.

He won’t talk about fighting or anything to do with battle during the warring period in detail. There might be mentions but it’s something he won’t talk about - he doesn’t need to because you went through it too.

The only exception might be Izuna. And it won’t be something he brings up but you do and that is only because you need too. By that I mean if you are an Uchiha or you knew/were close to Izuna in some way. If you’re none of these things and ask he will feel attacked.

To answer you question, no he doesn’t regret what he did. There were tinges of guilt over the years but they were quelled when he reminded himself if he hadn’t killed Izuna then Izuna would have killed him.

If Izuna was particularly important to you he will feel guilty when he tells you this and will add, “I know it’s not the answer you wanted.” he sees it as a disservice to be dishonest though. Assure him you wanted the truth.

Talking about his parents comes from you discussing your own. There’s a a particular energy in the room that night. Even the lovemaking was deeper, more emotional than usual. Like there was a longing within the two of you that need to be satisfied.

You start telling him things about your past. Your parents, your upbringing, the reason you are who you are. He is quite taken back at how easily you can talk about these things and how lightly you can do it.

He’s looking at you intently and hanging on your every word but eventually it becomes a lot. It’s like you’ve given him this piece of yourself he feels he doesn’t quite deserve. He pins his gaze on the ceiling as he listens to you continue, there’s always a part of you physically touching him - it grounds you both to the moment.

This honesty and openness sits with him for awhile - weeks, months, maybe even years and then he decides to open up to you. There is usually a trigger. His brother might have said something, something might have happened to you - it doesn’t matter but he decides to take this step.

I headcanon Tobirama not really knowing his mother. His only role model was his father and we all know what that meant. He mentions it in a few words. He doesn’t tell you his feelings on the matter. But you can tell by way he phrases it, the way his tongue quickly runs over the syllables like he wants to move on as fast as possible that this was important to him.

It made him feel vulnerable. He wasn’t sure why. He always wondered about her but he was also content with how things ended up. He didn’t want her to die but the longing for things to be different in terms of his parentage died in his youth.

His relationship with his father was complicated. He followed his orders and decisions because he didn’t know different. And while he didn’t agree with his father he never did speak out against him. Instead he contented himself from learning from his mistakes and the things he did right-right in Tobirama’s eyes.

He doesn’t tell you this outright but you can tell - when his father died he felt relief. Relief that the weight on his shoulders to measure up to his standard despite disagreeing with his decisions was gone. And although Hashirama had is shortcomings, he was going to be a good leader. Someone he would express his opinions too.

Pillow talk moments are plain vulnerable for Tobirama in general. Being intimate with someone was not something he took lightly. It takes a great level of trust for Tobirama Senju to take you to his bed and he is not as calm about it as he would have you believe.

Cuddle up your body against his after. Stroke his face, his arm, his chest but don’t suffocate him with your touch. Keep it light but knowingly there. It’s assuring and grounding and it’s the rare time he allows himself to relax. This is where he lets his worries go and just exists. Exists for you and him. Nothing else matters until the next morning comes.

#request #tobirama #tobirama senju #headcanons #hcs #hc #tobirama headcanons #tobirama senju headcanons #tobirama/reader #tobiramaxreader #opening up headcanons #soft tobirama #angst #fluff #anon #Anonymous #Ask

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myhahnestopinion · 4 years

Text

THE AARONS 2020 - Best TV Show

It was prime time for TV in 2020, with many more free hours to fill. I managed to get through a lot of my backlog in fact, finally getting around to watching shows like The Strain. It’s a show about a deadly disease that tears society apart because a lot of arrogant people think they are exempt from quarantining. The disease turns people into vampires, so it’s technically escapism. Here are the Aarons for Best TV Show:

#10. The Plot Against America (Miniseries) - HBO

It’s not TV, it’s not HBO, it’s real life. The Wire-creator David Simon’s penchant for illustrating the human fallout of institutional failures made him a perfect collaborator for HBO’s Plot Against America, an adaptation of Phillip Roth’s alternate-history novel. Following a Jewish family in New Jersey navigating the increasingly-fascist America of a hypothetical Charles Lindbergh administration, the show is a terrifying warning of what happens when hatred and conspiracy theories are allowed to accumulate political force. Notably, while the book ends with history back on the right track, the closing moments here are left ambiguous. The show was a limited series, but in many ways, The Plot Against America is ongoing.

#9. Mrs. America (Miniseries) - FX

Its interests are married to The Plot Against America, but Mrs. America traces the country’s rising extremism from a more historically accurate perspective. The miniseries centers on political activists in the 1970s on opposing sides of the proposed Equal Rights Amendment, but its dialogue isn’t a strict dichotomy. The episodic format is expertly utilized to build out intersectional ideas from the likes of Rose Byrne’s Gloria Steinem, Uzo Aduba’s Shirley Crisholm, and Margo Martindale’s Bella Abzug, detailing the difficulties in building a diverse coalition, and the dangers of a single-minded one. Drawing parallels to current debates, its compelling centerpiece is how conservative Phylis Shafley (Cate Blanchett) successfully defeats the Amendment; voting against your own self-interests, Mrs. America says, is as American as apple pie.

#8. The Outsider (Miniseries) - HBO

Societal collapse comes from within in the two shows mentioned above, but the threat in HBO’s adaptation of Stephen King’s 2018 novel is decidedly an “other.” King clearly had his mind on modern manipulations of truth when crafting the ingenious premise: a man is arrested for the murder of two young boys due to irrefutable DNA evidence, only to provide an air-tight alibi for the crime. To match King’s procedural prose, HBO brought on The Night Of’s David Price, who layers the original work with meticulous mysteries. The Outsider has all the pulpy jolts expected of the author, but the show’s true horror lies in its overbearing grief, best brought to life by Ben Mendelsohn’s Detective Anderson. To say more would be to spoil its secrets; you’ll want to be on the inside.

#7. Perry Mason (Season 1) - HBO

Just like the famous fictional attorney, HBO can’t seem to lose, with Perry Mason marking its third entry on this list. The reimagining of the long running court drama actually takes place before the character’s illustrious law career; here he’s a down-on-his-luck private eye caught up in a scandalous child kidnapping case. The result’s a gangbusters production of old-fashioned moody noir: political corruption, femme fatales, and a more morally-complicated Mason, as played by The Americans’ Matthew Rhys. The lavish period details and character-actor cast, including Shea Whigham, John Lithgow, and Tatiana Maslany, will help draw viewers in, but, I’ll confess, I was already hooked by the season’s chilling opening moments.

#6. Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist (Season 1) - NBC

Dour seasons have dominated this list thus far, but Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist sings a different tune. It’s a lovably oddball premise: an accident during an MRI causes a young woman, played by Jane Levy, to hear other people’s thoughts in the form of popular music. It’s all karaoke, but, emphasized by the presence of Skylar Astin, a worthy inheritor to Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s musical-comedy crown. The tracklist, workplace antics, and love-triangle drama all exist in a comfortingly familiar network TV realm, but the show takes additional steps for inclusion with stories highlighting Zoey’s genderfluid neighbor (Alex Newell) and an American Sign Language performance of Rachel Platten’s “Fight Song.” During a year in need of shuffling off stress, there was no better time to queue up Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist.

#5. What We Do in The Shadows (Season 2) - FX

FX’s expansion of the mockumentary feature film of the same name lit up some of the darker corners of its universe in the show’s second season, transforming mundane-seeming material into something completely, uniquely batty. Each creature of Shadows took their turn in the spotlight this season, from a middle-management promotion gifting energy-vampire Colin Robinson unlimited supernatural power, to undead Nadja befriending a doll possessed by her own ghost, to Matt Berry’s Lazlo forging a small-town persona as a bartender/volleyball coach to escape a vengeful Mark Hamill. As always, it was the sympathetic Guillermo (Harvey Guillén), a Van Helsing descendent desperate to become a vampire, who gave the show its emotional stakes, and the vampires within a different kind altogether.

#4. Stargirl (Season 1) - DC Universe

Shadows was lit, but few things burned brighter this year than Stargirl (perhaps too brightly for the flamed-out DC Universe). The superhero drama is one of several that will outlive its original streaming service - fitting, given its obsession with legacy. Based on a character created by DC Comics stalwart Geoff Johns after the tragic loss of his sister, the show finds a young girl taking on the mantle of a fallen hero after moving to a town run in secret by supervillains. With sprightly fight choreography and an unabashed embrace of its comic book lore, Stargirl outshines the overabundance of small-screen superheroes out there. Its highlight is the bright performance of lead Brec Bassinger; put simply, she’s a star, girl.

#3. BoJack Horseman (Season 6b) - Netflix

Throughout its run, BoJack Horseman garnered acclaim for routinely delivering unexpected pathos, and the final season kept it on that track until the end. ...Get it, because horses run on tracks? The unexpected porter of television’s legacy of antiheroes ended in much the same vein as its sister shows - with consequences finally catching up with its protagonist. No amount of fanciful animal puns could soften that painful catharsis, as the show finally trampled its tricky web of abuse through bittersweet means. The series closed out with an especially thoughtful scene, the kind viewers who looked past the wonky pilot years ago were regularly blessed with; to the very end, BoJack, you were a gift, horse.

#2. Better Call Saul (Season 5) - AMC

As good as Bad ever was and better than ever before, the fifth season of AMC’s spin-off completely upended the world of its eponymous lawyer while bringing Vince Gilligan’s universe one step away from full-circle. Saul Goodman found himself in way over his head, and viewers found themselves way on the edge of their seats, as his first foray into “criminal” lawyering swiftly dovetailed with an escalating drug war. Despite the emotional distress of watching fan-favorite character Kim Wexler placed in perilous situations, there are no objections to be had with the drama’s continued masterful storytelling. Ramping up the slow-burn storytelling, season five saw Kim and Saul’s relationship develop in rich and unexpected ways, while still keeping their final fates unresolved. Fans are thus waiting with bated breath for the show’s final call next year.

#1. The Great (Season 1) - Hulu

Who could be the best but The Great? There was a minor television controversy this year over Netflix marketing The Crown as a historical drama despite its fictional interpretation of events; The Great has no such pretentions. An asterix adorns every title card of the show, letting viewers know that its take on Catherine the Great’s coup against Emperor Peter III of Russia is only “an occasionally true story.” The show indeed is not great for education, but it’s the most entertaining television of the year, locking stars Elle Fanning and Nicholas Hoult in a battle of wits and a fight for the country’s soul under the watch of The Favourite co-writer Tony McNamara. The uproarious comedy slyly collates leadership based in cruelty with leadership based in goodwill in the background of its quite bawdy escapades, a subtle bit of relevant political maneuvering that lets it successfully claim the crown this year.

NEXT UP: THE 2020 AARONS FOR BEST TV EPISODE!

#tv #TheAarons #TheAarons2020 #TheAaronsTV #best of 2020 #the plot against america #mrs america #the outsider #perry mason #zoey's extraordinary playlist #what we do in the shadows #stargirl #bojack horseman #better call saul #the great

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lokislittlesigyn · 3 years

Text

A Day’s Work - Pt.3

Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: Some slight/implied language. Violence.

Summary: The Guardians of The Galaxy have been, well, guarding the galaxy on their own time. But when a handsome reward for the safe return of an Asgardian princess is released, they may get more adventure than they bargained for.

No Loki yet! Don’t worry. He’ll show up soon enough. ;)

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

Sigyn pressed the other panels’ blue buttons as quickly as she could, making her way to the end of the hall. One by one, the cell doors opened, previous inmates flooding out.

The alarms blared.

"Time to go!" Rocket shot off, the other Guardians in tow.

Sigyn followed them - but noticed the panel of their cell. Stopped.

Sigyn Lokiwife of Asgard, it said. That was her name. Lokiwife.

She was married?

"Hey, princess! C'mon!" Quill yelled, ready to come back for her. She turned, snapping out of her trance-like focus on the panel. Caught up with the Guardians and stayed close to them as they ran through the ship.

"Any ideas where the armory might be?"

"How about we just ask them for directions?" Rocket snapped as a group of the bounty hunters sprung from behind a corner. Drax tackled one, Gamora running in to attack another. Rocket and Groot took another. Sigyn jumped, staying back as Peter reluctantly took the last one, socking him in the jaw. The Guardians made quick work of the bounty hunters, taking their blasters. Peter panted after the fight, holding his newly-borrowed blaster close. "About that armory..." Somehow, among the ruckus and chaos, the Guardians found the armory - more of a messy storage room, in truth - and grabbed their belongings. Sigyn stayed to the side, still mulling over the panel's words.

Wife.. Someone's wife... Did her husband miss her?

Did he love her?

Did she love him?

"You okay there, princess?" Peter glanced at her, clicking a small device to his hip. She met his gaze.

"Fine. Just ready to be out of here." She smiled weakly. “Can I help..?”

"Uhh..” He looked down at their weapons, then at Gamora, who gave him a look. Back to her. “Just stay close.”

Sigyn’s shoulder drooped.

“All right, let's haul out." He nodded to the group, grabbing his blaster. They left the armory - and were immediately met with a dozen or more bounty hunters, all guns trained on their position. Groot, seated on Rocket’s shoulder, reached over and pressed the device on Peter’s hip.

Click.

((if you want to follow along with music for the full experience, queue Take A Chance On Me - ABBA right about now ;) ))

Music began blaring from the device.

“If you change your mind, I’m the first in line!”

"You know the drill, Guardians!" Peter triggered a helmet to cover his face.

“Honey, I’m still free. Take a chance on me!”

"Hey, Drax?" Rocket grinned, "Bet'cha I can take out more of ‘em than you can!"

"Is that a challenge?" Drax pulled out dual knives. Sigyn's eyes widened and she moved closer to Quill, staying just behind him.

The Guardians charged.

They ran to the beat of the music, practically plowing through the droves of bounty hunters - Peter leading the way. Rocket grabbed pebble-sized bits of metal from his belt, tossing them out onto enemies. With a grin, he clicked a remote - triggering colorful pink and orange explosions all around them. Several bounty hunters gagged on the colored gas. He then jumped on Drax’s shoulders, then onto more enemies, weaving among them. Groot, still clinging to his shoulder, released a fierce little battle cry.

They shot past Gamora, who impaled a hunter on her sword. He spat out blood before she tossed him away, meeting her next foe with a lethal slice across the chest. She turned, bashing the blaster of another hunter up just as he fired - hitting a wire that supported beams above, causing the heavy beam to swing down in front of them.

“Stop!” Peter slid to a halt as the beam groaned, colliding with a handful of the bounty hunters...

“Now!” he called, the Guardians hopping past the beam just before it swung back over their path.

They rounded a corner. Down the hall, another crowd of bounty hunters was advancing on them. Past their shoulders, a large, open hangar housed countless ships. In the distance, the Milano.

The door behind the hunters slammed closed.

“How many you got, Drax?” Rocket grinned, already poised to throw another round of grenades.

“Thirteen.” The giant man rolled his shoulder, brandishing his knives.

“Awh, that’s cute. Got fifteen myself-”

“I am Groot!”

“Well, we’ve got fifteen. But who’s counting?” Rocket tossed the grenades, downing a handful of hunters.

“We are!” Drax charged into the fray.

“Aren’t there more pressing matters at hand than games?” Gamora shouted, stabbing one of the hunters in the leg, then the chest.

The group made their way down the hallway, Sigyn staying close behind Peter - and dodging blaster shots from the enemies, silently lamenting her lack of a weapon. Peter shot one enemy in the neck, then grabbing his arm, swung him around and, using him as a sort of shield, shot two others. He dropped the limp body, then triggered his mask to disappear, revealing his face. He caught Gamora’s eye, giving her a cheeky wink. She rolled her eyes, but not without a small smile.

They reached the blast door.

“All right, let’s pry this sucker open.” Rocket walked over to the controls.

Immediately, Drax grabbed the door and with a roar, pried it open. The others stared at him.

“What? He said pry it open.”

Sigyn giggled slightly. “Well... He’s not wrong.”

((music ends here!))

~~~~ They made a beeline for the Milano.

"Okay, guys, let's get out of here ASAP," Peter sat in the cockpit, having just finished releasing the Milano from the various tethers that held it in place. "No telling who might show u- Awh sh-" Another large group of bounty hunters rushed into the hangar. Alarms blared louder as the Milano took off.

"They must have sensors up!" Rocket snarled when the Milano shook from the impact of a blast, "Punch it, Quill!"

Before them, the main doors to the garage were starting to close as another ship was brought in.

"Hold onto something, this is gonna be rough!" Peter slammed the shift forward. Sigyn clung to a seat, yelling along with the others and the Milano lurched, then jumped into a high-speed escape. Other, slightly smaller ships around them rose, chasing them, grappling hook-like guns loaded and ready, already shooting at the Milano.

"C'mon- C'mon! We can make it!"

“Peter, we can’t!” Gamora screamed. The ship rocked as hooks made impact, mercifully sliding off without taking hold.

“We can!”

The opening before them was getting smaller... Smaller...

Ting!

They sped through the door just in the nick of time. Behind them, explosions sounded as the enemy ships crashed into their own mothership's door - and each other.

"Ha!" Peter let out an almost maniacal burst of laughter, the rest of the Guardians cheering loudly. Even Sigyn cheered, whooping once. The Milano, still at a considerable speed, shot out into space.

"Oh, thank goodness.." Sigyn breathed, "That was- that was incredible! Is this normal for you? Escaping captors? Close calls?"

"Well, now that you ask-" Rocket started.

"Don't even, Rocket, don't even." Peter cut him off.

"What? I was just answering the lady's question." He grinned.

"No, you were definitely about to rat me out."

"Was not."

"Yes you were." Once they were out of range of the enemy ship, Peter slowed the Milano, flipping a few switches. "What's the quickest way to Asgard?"

“Ehh, there’s a few ways. You could always let me drive...”

Sigyn glanced at Peter.

Sigyn Lokiwife of Asgard. Asgard, whatever it was, must be home.

She excused herself and stepped back into the main room of the Milano, staring down at the table, arms crossed.

Would the people there hate her, if she didn't remember them, or would they understand?

Did they care for her in the first place?

She closed her eyes, letting her mind wander. Surely, there was some memory she still held, even something faint...

Asgard. What was Asgard?

She furrowed her brow. Gold. Asgard has gold. Sun. Warmth. Smile. Her heart fluttered. Something about Asgard made her feel lighter... Excited?

"Feeling overwhelmed?" Gamora walked in.

Sigyn gasped and turned to her, eyes open. She swallowed, and managed a tiny smile. "A little."

The alien walked closer, stood across from her. "I don’t blame you. Not everyone’s used to such.. Intense fights. We'll return you home safe."

Sigyn nodded, pursing her lips.. "About that, are... Look, I know you think I was given some sort of - something - to make me forget. But I can hardly remember anything about this Asgard place. I.. I’m not so sure I belong there."

"You're the princess. You belong there. And I doubt your husband would take kindly to you being away from him much longer."

"He's protective?"

"Notoriously. There’s several million units being offered for your safe return; no doubt, he had a hand in that."

So he does care about me.. Unless he's just an over-protective, overbearing jerk...

I guess we’ll see.

"You're all returning me for the sake of a reward, then?"

"Yes."

Sigyn nodded. "Well, I'd probably do the same.." Would she? "...I think."

Gamora pursed her lips slightly. "You should start remembering soon.. Even the most powerful amnesiac gases only last a few days, maybe a week at best."

"How long will it take to reach Asgard?"

"Depends on if we have to stop for fuel, or hit another detour... I'll let you know."

Gamora left, walking back to the cockpit. Sigyn took a seat and, sighing quietly, mulled over what little she could remember of her apparent home.

#lokixsigyn #loki fanfic #logyn #aaaaaaa?#guardiansofthegalaxy #gotg fanfiction #assortedau

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uomo-accattivante · 4 years

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This is a great article about how The Card Counter managed to finish principal photography after getting shut down mid-March due to COVID-19.

Also, it includes this interesting description from Paul Schrader about Oscar Isaac’s character, William Tell -- “So now I have a character and he’s in his room, he’s alone. And he has a mask on. And the mask he wears is a professional poker player. And the problem that runs alongside him is that he is a former torturer for the U.S. government. So it’s a mix of the World Series of Poker and Abu Ghraib.”

Having somehow weathered his way from enfant terrible to wizened survivor, Paul Schrader is a filmmaker who is simply not finished yet. Every time it might seem his career is on the wane, he resets, revitalizes and comes back again.

Just a few years after his 2014 film “Dying of the Light” starring Nicolas Cage was taken away from him by financiers — leading Schrader to disavow the movie — he received his first Oscar nomination (for original screenplay) after directing “First Reformed,” which was released in 2018 and starred Ethan Hawke as a troubled small-town minister.

Schrader’s work is marked by emotional intensity, intellectual vitality and an aesthete’s appreciation of style. His filmography is full of unusual corners that are still being discovered. The 1979 film “Old Boyfriends,” directed by Joan Tewkesbury with a screenplay by Schrader and his brother Leonard, was recently rereleased on home video. As was the 1990 film “The Comfort of Strangers,” directed by Schrader from a screenplay by Harold Pinter.

He’s been directing films from his own scripts since 1978’s “Blue Collar” starring Richard Pryor, Harvey Keitel and Yaphet Kotto. He went on to write and direct such films as “Hardcore,” “American Gigolo,” “Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters,” “Light Sleeper” and “Affliction.” His celebrated work as a screenwriter for director Martin Scorsese includes “Taxi Driver,” “Raging Bull,” “The Last Temptation of Christ” and “Bringing Out the Dead.”

Never one to shy from controversy onscreen or off, he directed Lindsay Lohan in the 2013 Hollywood-set thriller “The Canyons,” written by Bret Easton Ellis.

In March, Schrader was about three-quarters through the shoot for his next film, “The Card Counter,” in Mississippi — with a cast that includes Oscar Isaac, Tiffany Haddish, Tye Sheridan and Willem Dafoe — when the production was shut down due to the growing pandemic. In July, Schrader was able to shoot for an additional five days to complete production.

During the break in shooting, “The Card Counter” was picked up for distribution by Focus Features.

Schrader recently got on the phone to talk about the unusual circumstances of the film’s production and completion. A film critic before he became a filmmaker, Schrader not only had startling insights into his work, but also thoughts about what filmmaking and exhibition might be like in a post-COVID world.

Before we start talking about the production on the movie, could you just describe the story? What is “The Card Counter” about?

Well, I don’t want to get too deeply involved in the plot, but what I will say is over the years I’ve kind of developed my own little genre of films. And they usually involve a man alone in a room, wearing a mask, and the mask is his occupation. So it could be a taxi driver, a drug dealer, a gigolo, a reverend, whatever. And I take that character and run it alongside a larger problem, personal or social. It could be debilitating loneliness like in “Taxi Driver.” It could be a midlife crisis like in “Light Sleeper.” It could be an environmental crisis like in “First Reformed.”

So now I have a character and he’s in his room, he’s alone. And he has a mask on. And the mask he wears is a professional poker player. And the problem that runs alongside him is that he is a former torturer for the U.S. government. So it’s a mix of the World Series of Poker and Abu Ghraib.

How did you come to put those two things together?

I’m always looking for that. I’m looking for deep-seated problems, either personal or societal, and some kind of oddball metaphor. The more you get closer, you run these two wires next to each other, the more sparks you see flying across. And it’s in the sparks that the viewer comes alive. If the wires ever touch, there’s nothing left for the viewer to do. But if you keep these two wires really close to each other, the viewer will start to spark from one wire to the other. And that’s the greatest thing you can give a viewer or a reader, an opportunity to be part of the creation.

Let’s talk about the production and everything you’ve been through. Take me back to March. What was it like for you when the production had to shut down?

I have learned in my dotage how to make a quality film on a low budget. So the film I used to make in 40 days I now make in 20. And so “First Reformed” was 20. I had shot in Biloxi 15 days. Now I knew coronavirus was going to be rising, because when I heard that Macau shut down, I said, you know, it’s just a matter of time. Macau is the wealthiest gambling center in the world and I’m here in the gambling center of the Gulf. If Macau shuts down, it’ll reach Vegas, it’ll reach here. And we were doing a scene, a poker tournament with 500 extras. And I remember I said to the A.D., “We can’t put 500 people in a room without one of them being positive.” And sure enough, one of them was. Two days later, we not only closed down, all of the Gulf was closed down.

Fortunately, when I went back, I had shot my big crowd scenes. And also I had shot my sex scenes, which I would have hated to try to do under these restrictions. So all I had left when I went back was a number of scenes in the prisons, and four more scenes in the casinos, some driving scenes. So I was in pretty good shape. But I really wanted to finish the film.

And Oscar Isaac, he was on his way to Hungary to do reshoots for “Dune.” And he wanted to put off this reshoot till after “Dune” — to do it in September because he has a big beard and he didn’t want to shave off his beard. I said to him, “Oscar, there’s a window open right now in Mississippi.” I said, “If we don’t jump into this window while it’s open, this will become one of those famous films that never got finished, and we’ve got to exploit this moment.”

So I talked him off the ledge and he agreed to do it. And we were able to put everybody back together and do our week of prep and five days of shooting. It was very strange, and in a way it was kind of fun, in a summer camp sort of way. But I would hate, hate to make a whole film this way. It was an adventure for five days, it’s a nightmare for five weeks.

In the break from March to July, were you on high alert that you could come back at any moment? Were you editing the footage you already had?

Here’s what happened. I was editing. My editor is in New Jersey and my assistant editor is in Tennessee, so we’re all editing virtually. And I had four major dialogue scenes between my principal characters that I had not shot. Then I was able to screen virtually the film for a number of people I respect, like Scorsese, who is the executive producer, like [filmmaker and programmer] Kent Jones and other people. And what I asked them all is, “I have four more scenes to shoot. I can rewrite them. What am I missing? What do I need to add? How should I write these four scenes?”

And I started getting feedback about what they felt was missing. So I was able to rewrite these scenes and make these relationships much better. And not all productions get to do that. It’s a very expensive reshoot, but it was built-in that three-quarters of the way through, I have an opportunity to rewrite one-quarter of the meaningful character scenes. So I did, I rewrote it. And I realized what was missing. And I wouldn’t have realized that if I was shooting at the top. I would have only realized that in post. And I would have walked around the room kicking myself in the ass, saying, “I wish I had the opportunity to reshoot some scenes.”

How was getting everything back together?

As soon as Mississippi allowed us to come back, we came back. And of course nobody’s working, so everybody’s eager to come back. They are hyper-conscientious because they know they are only being allowed to work by the grace of God. And so the masks and the PPE and the hands and the distancing, you don’t need to tell any of the people this. They’re so happy to be at work. They have no problem with any of that.

You can only have one person within six feet of your actor at a time. That person could be hair, it could be makeup, it could be props, it can be the director, it could be another actor. And you kind of queue up. And a thing that I realized, we had a warehouse. So we did rehearsals for every scene in this warehouse. And I told the actors that when we get to the location, to the casino, the prop people will be in there, the lighting people will be there and then you will walk there with your mask on, and you will take the positions that you took in rehearsal. Then I will roll camera and you will take your masks off and we’ll play the scenes. So that’s how we did it.

Given everything that it takes to get to shooting, once you were back on set with the actors, did you still feel like they could give you the performances that you needed? Was it difficult to get to a place of artistic creation given all the other concerns that everyone has?

Because they had done the rehearsals, they had gone through the permutations of their performances before. So the only thing different for them was that they were in a real space rather than a fake space. As I explained to them, there would be no time for exploration on set. All the exploration you are going to do, we’re going to do here in the warehouse. I don’t want to hear one peep from you about changing anything once we get into this hothouse environment. So however many hours we have to spend in the warehouse, let’s spend it.

How close to finished are you with the movie now, considering you had a lot of it already cut together?

Basically, I’m finished, down to an hour and 49 minutes, which is where I think it should be. Obviously, I have to do the score, there’s the post-prod and the special effects, but the thing is that there’s no pressure to finish the film anymore at this time. I was talking to Focus, and I could give them the film in a month. They don’t want the film in a month because they don’t know what to do with it in a month. They said, you just take whatever time you need, which is the opposite of the way studios usually talk. I also have final cut, so it doesn’t really matter. What I deliver, I deliver.

When you made “The Canyons” you talked a lot about your feelings regarding the theatrical experience, VOD and streaming and contemporary filmmaking. What impact do you think the COVID shutdowns will have on movie theaters?

There’s a certain kind of film like “The Canyons,” which should be made for VOD, which is a kind of exploitation film. And there’s another kind of film like “First Reformed” that has to be mounted by film festivals and art-house cinemas, so that it has an identity prior to VOD. So if you’re on VOD and you see an Ethan Hawke film about a minister, you’re not going to say, “Oh, let’s watch that.” No, what you’re going to say is, “Oh, I heard about that film. I heard it was good.” Well, how did they hear it was good? They heard that from film festival reportage and they heard from their friends who have seen it at theaters. So that sets up VOD.

The opposite case is a film like “First Cow,” a film that was crushed by not having a theatrical window. And everybody is, “Should I watch ‘First Cow’?” They have no context. So what’s important for a film like “The Card Counter” is we have to give it context. We have to go to the festivals and we have to go to the art cinemas to tell people what we have in our hands. Then we can go to VOD, where the real money is. So “First Reformed” went to Telluride, Toronto, Venice and New York. That set the table. I would love to set the table for this one. I can go to all those festivals. That’s not a problem for me anymore. The problem is: Are festivals going to happen?

Do you think theaters are going to come back?

Not in the way they did. There are only four reasons for theaters to exist anymore. And this situation has accelerated these trends. Like symphonies and operas and live theater, concerts, they need a reason to exist. One reason is family cinema, because parents love to see their kids interacting with other kids. Animation films will always have an audience. Another is extraordinary spectacle. IMAX, virtual, whatever they come up with. Something you can’t see at home. The third is date movies for high schoolers, which is horror and rom-coms. Or rather, dirty rom-coms.

And then the fourth is club cinema. Which used to be called art cinema. But with these new institutions that are a combination of social institutions and cinematic institutions. So the Metrograph in New York has one restaurants and two bars. There’s more square footage devoted to eating and drinking than there is to watching movies. And yet it’s always full because people want to be in that environment. So then alcohol’s become the new popcorn. And those club cinemas, which were pioneered by Alamo, they will continue to exist because people want to be part of the club, people want to buy a membership. They want to eat and hang out, and they want to know which films have been approved by the club. Which is something you cannot get from VOD.

When “First Reformed” was coming out, you spoke about how you had made it thinking it could be your last film. And yet you seem so reenergized over the last few years. Do you feel that way? Have you been able to hit the reset button in some way?

Oddly, yes. I’m in the middle of a new script, which is about a horticulturalist. And what has happened in my case, following the disastrous situation I went through with “Dying of the Light,” I said, I would no longer work unless I had final cut. And once I got final cut, I was free. When I began, you didn’t really need final cut. When I was working in the studio system, all those other films, you were working with people who knew movies, who liked movies. Who you can talk to, you could disagree with — things would get changed, sometimes they’d get better, sometimes for worse in your mind, but you were working with people who liked movies, who watched movies. In the last 15 years, I’m dealing mainly with financiers, who not only don’t watch movies, don’t even particularly like them. And how can you have discussions with these people? And that’s what final cut freed me from, because I realized I couldn’t talk to these people. I wasn’t talking to [studio executives like] Barry Diller and Thom Mount and Ned Tanen anymore. I was talking to Joe Schmo from some hedge fund and I couldn’t talk to Joe Schmo. The only way I could talk to him was to have final cut.

I’m certainly excited to see what becomes of “The Card Counter.”

The new one is quite good. Focus told me not to hump it too much because that’s their job down the line. But you can take my word for it, it’s quite good.

###

#paul schrader had to convince oscar isaac to shave off his dune beard 😂#oscar isaac #william tell #the card counter #paul schrader #tye sheridan #willem dafoe #tiffany haddish #covid-19 #coronavirus #focus features #dune #dune 2020 #first reformed #the canyons #taxi driver #interview #los angeles times #la times

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overheardatthecontinental · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 5: angry sex

It took a lot to get John Wick angry. It wasn’t really a natural emotion for him.

He couldn’t blame people who shot at him, not when they were trying to protect themselves. He didn’t get emotional when people betrayed him. That was what people did. They looked after themselves and everyone else be damned. John didn’t even get annoyed at waiting in queues or having bad service.

But then, Helen had the unique ability to make him feel things he had never felt before.

Happiness.

Wonder.

Adoration.

Jealousy.

Fear.

Joy.

Longing.

Love.

It only made sense that she be the one to introduce him to complete and utter rage.

She knew about him, about his past and the choices he had made to bring him full circle in the underworld. She knew what he did and how he got his money and she never judged him.

But always, in the back of his mind, there was fear. That someone would find her. Thay someone would try to get to him by hurting her.

He was considered more dangerous than any monster and this sweet, kind woman was his one weakness. His only downfall was a 5'7 brunette who put sugar on her rice crispies.

And, because it was bound to happen eventually, John found himself the target of a particularly angry brother of someone who had once been his target, inside the Museum of Modern Art. On a date. With Helen.

They were looking at an exhibition in block art, joking about the possible meaning each block must hold, when John saw him. Wearing a large coat that could hold any number of weapons. John knew first hand that metal detectors on the doors of museums didn’t mean shit to anyone who truly wanted to get a weapon inside.

Fuck.

And Helen, of course, hadn’t noticed.

She was nearly oblivious to people in the world who set out to do harm.

“I think the small yellow square in the center must represent his anxiety to use any cool colors.” She joked and John carefully positioned himself between the brother and Helen.

They had discussed this, early on in the relationship. That someday, inevitably, someone was going to come after him when she was near. And, when that happened, she needed to follow his instructions.

“Menelaus.”

She froze, immediately on guard at use of their codeword. Danger was nearby.

“Where?”

“Behind us."

He had a plan for this. It was why he made her always carry a set of keys for his car and at least five gold coins. Why he made her memorize directions to the Continental from virtually anywhere in New York.

But when he told her to run, she didn't. She wouldn't leave him.

And it wasn’t fear, it wasn’t her being a brat. She refused to leave him alone, in danger.

The rational part of his mind, the side he tended to listen to more often than not, was trying to keep him calm. Was trying to make him understand her perspective. If she had told John to run, he wouldn’t have considered it.

But she didn’t have his training. It had taken her weeks just to convince her to get her to the shooting range. She flat out refused martial arts classes but agreed to attend twice weekly self-defense classes if only to get him off her back.

It wasn’t enough.

It wouldn’t have been enough if she had been alone or if he hadn’t been able to wrestle the gun away from the man.

And that scares the hell out of him.

Pure terror had flooded his system when he realized that Helen wasn’t going to run.

And it had been fine. He had kept her safe.

She was safe.

He kept repeating that to himself but that pure terror had quickly turned to rage once the opponent was disarmed and eliminated.

He was angry that she hadn’t run.

He was angry that she had put herself in danger.

He was angry that Helen had seen him snap a man’s neck.

Mostly, however, John was furious that this was his life.

He had finally found something worth keeping. He had the love of a beautiful and kind and clever woman. And he could lose her. By a gunshot in the MoMA or an attack while she walked down the street. Someone could wire her car to explode or poison her takeout order. Helen was his but Helen was oh so breakable.

And he had lived his life in such a way that, because of him, that sweet and kind and beautiful, clever woman was in danger.

Once he had disposed of his enemy, he had wrapped an arm around her protectively and walked her quickly back to the car. She knew better than to try to soothe him when he was on guard for enemies. At least she listened there.

He got her to the car and then drove back home, white-knuckled.

John wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to deal with the hot rage that coursed through him. Even at his most angry, he couldn’t yell at her. Because it was his fault. It was his fault that this was his life.

It was part of the reason he tried so hard to spoil her. She often resisted but when he could, he bought her wine and clothes and books and whatever he could get her to accept. It was a poor attempt to make up for who he was and what he was and it didn’t matter how many times she told him she loved him, how many times she told him that she accepted him as he was. He would never be enough for her.

He parks in the garage and Helen unbuckles in silence and goes into the house.

John follows, slipping through the door before it shut behind her.

“Let’s talk.” Helen says, slipping her sweater off and stepping down into the sunken living room. She sat on the couch and looked up, looking expectantly at John.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“You’re pissed.”

“You’re understating.”

Helen rolls her eyes, “and you're being dramatic."

"You could have died."

"So could've you!" He shoots back and he has to swallow to keep from raising his voice, "I am trained for this, Helen."

"I know!" And there's an edge to her voice, too, "I get it! You're this big, scary assassin and you know hot to handle yourself but," she looks at him pointedly, "you are also the man who picks up spiders and takes them outside. You are also the man who folds his fucking socks! So forgive me that I don't quake in fear at the sight of you!"

"I don't need you to be afraid of me; I need you to trust me!" He fires back.

"This isn't about trust," she argues and John wants to scream and yell and brake the fucking coffee table in half so that she understands. “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be with you!”

John shakes his head, arms crossed against his chest, “I told you to run. You didn’t run.”

“You wanted me to leave you.” And again, there’s that bite in her voice. That stubbornness and sincerity but she just doesn’t get it.

“I wanted you to trust me to protect you.”

“I’m not hurt, John!”

“You could have been!”

“I’m not the one with the bruised knuckles.”

She didn’t get it. She didn’t fucking get it.

“I know what I’m doing! I know how to throw a damn punch!”

“So you can throw a punch. Therefore, I’m supposed to leave you to fend by yourself?”

“YES!” He shouts, surprising himself, “Yes! You’re supposed to leave and get to safety so that I can do what I need to do!” John shakes his head, “If you had been hurt, Helen…”

“What, John? You get hurt every damn time you go out the door! Every time you leave my sight, I have to sit here and wonder if you’re going to make it back to me! I have to sit with the fucking knowledge that no one in your world even knows who I am! You could be hurt, in the hospital, or worse, and no one would even know to call me! Every time you’re late for dinner, I have to sit and wonder if you’re even alive! So no, when you told me to run, I didn’t run!”

John feels his body tensing because, again, that feeling of anger, of hot rage is so foreign. He isn't sure what to do. But he loves her and he has to keep her safe. And she needs to understand that she is the only thing in the entire fucking world that matters.

But Helen just shakes her head, “And you’re going to have to get over it because I’m not going to run the next time, either!”

Like hell she’s not. John closes the distance, and reaches down. He grabs her shirt and easily pulls her to her feet and he slams his mouth into hers. Her lips will bruise. So will his. He doesn’t care.

John lets go of her shirt and moves his hand so that one covers each side of her face and he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth.

And they have rules. Helen established some early in the relationship, sensing John’s discomfort with intimacy. Nothing crazy… just some ground rules.

The first of which was that beds were sacred. Bedrooms were sacred. His bed at his house, her bed at her apartment, or any other bed they used were off limits for fighting or arguing. Beds were for making love and sleeping.

Which meant they weren’t going upstairs. Not yet.

Helen makes quick work of his shirt, yanking it from his pants and tearing it open. He wastes no time in doing the same, tearing her shirt from her body as she pushes her pants down and throws her arms around him and jumps. He lifts her and her legs come around his waist.

She kisses him again, biting his lower lip. John groans and, again, she fuses their mouths together. Her tongue swirls around his, sucking on his, as John carries her around to the other side of the couch. She drops her feet to the ground, leaning up against the couch as John kicks his own pants off and out of the way.

“Turn around.” He tells her, pushing her as he does, so that she is facing the back of the couch. He pushes her head down, forcing her to bend over the back of the couch.

John reaches around her, burying his right hand in her pussy. She’s wet and ready and that’s just too damn bad because he’s not ready to give it to her yet. His fingers circle her clit until she whimpers and then he slides two fingers roughly inside her. Helen swears, choking back a scream. His thumb resumes rubbing her clit as he curls his fingers inside her and uses his other hand to squeeze at her breasts.

Her hips frantically thrust, desperately trying to get his fingers deeper. “Fuck, fuck, fuck---!” She swears as her stomach tightens in pleasure.

And John takes them away, leaving her pussy clenching at nothing.

“If you’d have run,” he tells her, whispering into her ear, “Maybe I’d let you come.”

She tries to turn to face him but he doesn’t let her move from where she is pinned over the couch.

“I’m not going to apologize.” She growls back at him.

John takes his fingers, still soaked and dripping with her juices and shoves them into her mouth.

“MM!”

“Good.” He nips at her ear, “Your mouth is better for other things.”

And she moans on his fingers, sucking them greedily.

Good. That's all she's getting for now.

He uses the hand around her chest to hold her steady against him as he leans over her.

Her tongue twirls around his fingers and John bites ar her shoulder.

She whines and he feels vindicated. Thr helplessness of his fear and anger has mostly subsided as he takes control of her body..

The anger still lingers beneath the surface, though.

She could have been hurt or killed.

Hrr unwillingness to listen could have taken her away from him. And that was not okay.

John gives each tit a harsh squeeze before lowering his hand to his cock.

He's been hard since the moment he ripped her clothes from her body and now, he's going to use her.

He takes his erection in hand and guides it to her soaking cunt.

John slides inside her easily and Helen moans as her pussy clenches around him. Her teeth graze his fingers and he just pushes another into her mouth. The sound that escapes her is ungodly and John thrusts into her hard.

He thinks back to the fear that poured through him at the thought of losing her. The intense terror of knowing Helen was in danger and the hot fury that flowed through him when she was safe again but she hadn't fucking listened.

His hips increase their pace, harder and faster and she gasps around his finger while his cock drives into her again and again.

"Next time," he growls in her ear, "I tell you to run, you run."

Ahe tries to shake her head but his fingers in her mouth and his hand hold her in place.

"Yes." He tells her, forcing her to nod.

Fine. If she wants to be difficult, he can be to.

"You're the only person in the world I ever have to repeat myself to, did you know that?"

She chokes on his fingers. Good.

"The next time," he slams her into the couch, "I tell you to fucking run," he does it again and she cries out over his fingers, tightening her hot cunt around him, "you fucking run. Do you understand me?"

She protests but it comes out in an incoherent mumble.

He pushes his fingers deeper in her mouth so that she's forced to lean her head back into his shoulder.

"This isn't a difficult concept, Helen. I don't tell you what to do often, but I expect you to listen when I do."

Again, she tries to shake her head but she can't escape his grip.

He rolls his hips and she gasps and shakes and he can tell she's getting close again. It doesn't take her much when she's already on edge.

"You want to come, baby?"

She hums and nods and John lets her.

"Yeah, I bet you do."

He moves the hand on her hip around and rolls her cliy between two fingers.

Helen whimpers and John removes his fingers, "Then you need to promise to run."

Again, she protests and John takes his fingers from her mouth and she gasps for air. He holds the wet digits to her neck, squeezing ever so slightly.

"Promise me, Helen."

She bites her lip, trying to grind her pussy back against him but John tightens his hand and pins her to the couch.

"You aren't coming until you promise."

"Fuck!"

"Promise me."

She’s fuming, trying to escape from his grip so that she can continue to rock back against him. He’s buried inside her to the hilt but he isn’t moving anymore, leaving Helen wanting.

“John, please!”

“Not,” he says lowly, “until… you… promise. And trust me, Helen ,you are going to want to promise before I decide that I’m done waiting. I will fucking torture you.

"I will fuck you on my tongue until you reach the edge and then I'll stop and come in your tits. And then, I'll do it again. And again. And again until you are a fucking crying mess.

"Or, you can promise me to not be reckless and I'll let you come right now."

Helen whimpers and nods, “Okay, okay! I promise!”

John rolls his hips once, “Good girl. Now what do you promise?”

She huffs a breath, trying to move against him yet again, but trapped by his arms. “I promise I’ll listen! I promise I’ll listen when you’re protecting me!”

And he moves, thrusting into her again as Helen starts to swear.

“Fuck.. yes! Yes, John!”

Helen arches against him, her body stiffening as his hand resumes its teasing ministrations as John pumps in and out of her.

The orgasm builds inside of her and a scream erupts. The only thing that keeps her from completely collapsing are his arms wrapped around her.

John feels the tension leaving his body, his anger disappearing, as he comes. His head rests on her shoulder, breathing in her sweet scent.

He remains buried inside her as he comes, waiting until he is spent to pick her up off the ground. John holds her tightly in his arms and turns around.

“Where are we going?” She whispers.

“To bed.”

#angry sex #angry fuck #john wick #overheard at the continental #incorrect john wick #kinktober 2020 #john wick kinktober #kinktober #fic #john wick fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #john wick fanfic #helen x john wick #helen wick deserved better #helen wick #john x helen wick #pwp

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elderling-magic · 4 years

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Character Descriptions: Liveship Traders Trilogy

Once again, I might have missed some descriptions and any addition will be welcome. I might have especially missed descriptions on “Ship of Destiny” since I listened to the audiobook for that one.

Kennit: Tall, muscled porportionately, wide shoulders, long-fingered hands, tanned, high brow, firm jaw, straight nose, finely-drawn lips, beard fashionably pointed and ends of his moustache waxed and curled, has black ringlets of hair and pale blue eyes. He has a double thong of black leather with a small wooden face like his pierced at the brow and lower jaw against his wrist, initially painted black.

Kennit tattoos an Other on the nape of his neck in “Ship of Magic” (Kennit does tattoos and burns them after). He had a sevent pointed star tattoo on his hip that was seared after.

At the start of the trilogy on Others’ Island: He wears boots, linen trousers, a brocated waistcoat, an indigo jacket with pockets, a white silk shirt with lacy cuffs, has a ring on his finger and wears a hat.

When Etta met him the first time: Wore a dark green broadcloth jacket with ivory buttons and a spill of white lace down his chest and at his cuffs.

Mad Ship page 611: Wears a hat with black plumes and a jacket with silver buttons on the cuff.

Usually wears lace in cuffs and collar, high black boots, blue breeches, waistcoat and jacket. Has a crutch and peg after losing his leg.

Etta: She is straight (no roundness or softness) and very thin, near as tall as Kennit, long-limbed, has dark eyes, narrow hands, long flat flanks, slight roundness of belly, modest breasts, black hair cut off short ot reaching her shoulders (cut of square like a boy’s) and the planes of her face are long and flat. She has a tiny white skull, small as an apple pip, atached to a fine silver wire that pierced her navel. Kennit offers her a earring with a ruby.

First outfit on the ship: She wears lavender perfume, an emerald silk loose-sleeved blouse tucked into brocaded trousers, a cloth-of-gold sash around her waist, a tiny ruby earring and a lush fur-lined cloak.

2nd outfit on the ship: Azure cotton shirt, dark woollen trousers and a short matching woollen jacket, black knee-boots, gaudy scarf confining her hair leaving only the tips free to brush across her cheeks.

3rd outfit (seen by Wintrow): Silk blouse, brocaded vest and trousers.

4th outfit: Red lips, scarlet blouse, black silk skirts that shifted with her hips.

Wore gold fabric in “Ship of Destiny” (chapter 18). End of SOD: Simple black dress and the only jewelry was the miniature of Kennit strapped to her wrist and earrings he had given her, sleek black hair pinned up with jewel pins.

Wintrow Vestrit: 13 years old at the start of the book and turns 14 during the trilogy. Thin, shorter than Malta, has big dark brown eyes, fine black hair, long dark lashes, warm colored skin, cheeks and jaw lost most of a child’s roundness, white teeth. Gets a tattoo with the Satrap’s sigil beside his nose and next to that a larger tattoo of Vivacia in his face. Only 4 fingers in the right hand, index (forefinger) finger missing.

Wears a novice brown robe and no shoes. Wears shirt and trousers on the ship. Wears his black hair in a plait queue. Has two suits of canvas shirts and trousers for crew work. Sailor on shore clothes: Loudly-striped woven shirt and coarse black trousers that did not fit him well, shirt hung long and full on him. Wears loose white shirt a bit large for him tucked into dark blue trousers. Chapter 18 in SOD: Wide-sleeved shirt of dark blue silk embroidered with ravens. End of SOD: wore black to match Etta.

Althea Vestrit: 19 years old. Small like her mother, thin, has a long waist, round hips, small breasts, black wiry hair, black eyes, is tanned.

When a child: Hair cut to no more than a brush, was barefoot and bare-armed, hair queued down her back, wore trousers and a jacket.

When she arrives in Bingtown: Petticoat , overskirts, blouse, vest, lacy shawl, lace snood to confine her hair, straw hat addorned with feathers, dove-grey and pale blue trim.

To see Ronica at night: Wears a striped shirt and black trousers of a sailor on shore, long dark queue of hair down her back.

When she runs away: Simple dark dress, modest jacket and laced sandals. Wears 2 simple silver hoop earrings and a wooden egg bead of warm brown with the grain around it rather than from end to end that Amber gave her.

On the Reaper: Wears an oilskin, pigtail, shirt and trousers. She has a wooden egg in a single strand of leather about her neck. Flat cap pulled low on her brow and boy’s clothes. Wears felted stockings and heavy boots and a knitted cap on the Reaper.

Split in her scalp as long as Brashen’s little finger and gape open from the pull of her queue on SOM.

Council meeting: Magenta robe, hair pinned up, touch of colour to her lips, garnet earrings swinging from her ears given by Grag.

Work on Paragon: Hair sweated to her skull, loose white trousers and roomy tunic of the same fabric. Wears ship’s tag from Ophelia at her belt.

When Paragon sails: white blouse, split skirt with matching vest, shoes. Althea is wearing the same outfit to meet Vivacia again in SOD, with plaited and pinned hair.

Brashen gives Althea a brightly colored scarf that she binds her hair with, hoop earrings embelished with jade and garnet beads and a necklace in Davytown (SOD).

Ronica Vestrit: Small and dark woman with silver in her hair and high cheekbones. Usually wears her hair pinned up in a similar way as Keffria’s and wears a loose household robe. For reyn’s visit she had a dress of pale green linen with skirts sashes about her waist and over-blouse laced up from behind, pearl necklace and earrings. When althea comes back home: wearing a simple day-gown of creamy linen, hair coiled and perfumed, silver chain in her throat. Has a parasol on the day Paragon set sail.

Keffria Vestrit: Olive skin, dark long hair. Wears a simple blue woolen robe and usually uses long pins to fix her hair. For Reyn’s visit Malta plaited her hair into coils. Has a parasol on the day Paragon set sail.

Malta Vestrit: 12 years old at the start of the book and turns 13 during the trilogy. Warm-toned skin, long straight shiny black hair, taller than Wintrow, developed early. Has one greyish blue fingertip mark on the back of her neck after meeting Amber on Paragon. She gains a scarlet crown that extends back into her hairline one full finger lenght, has scales on brows, lips and arms on SOD.

Harvest ball: The outer edges of her ears and ear-lobes are traced the same color of her eyelids, wears a necklace and a dress of pale green silk with lace that frothed in her bosom and accessible panels of the skirts.

Cerwin and Dello’s visit: Simple woollen shift, embroidered at the throat and hem, sashed tight to show her waist, painted lips, brushed hair.

Council meeting: Hair swept from her face, braided and secured to the crown of her head, artless tendrils danced on her forehead and brushed the top of her cheeks, tiny roses deep red. Very simple trader’s robe deep magenta (Vestrit color), round neckline, ankle-lenght, belted at the waist like a monk’s robe by a black leather wide belt with stylized initial that formed the buckle.

Reyn’s visit: Hair in gleaming coils, white dress with red flower pinned to the shoulder, another flower fastened into her upswept hair.

Meet cerwin in the night and 2nd dream box: White nightdress.

Reunion with Amber: Wrapper of thick blue wool over her white nightgown.

Summer ball: Stockings, bright panels of fabric set into the lavish sleeves of her dress had once been skirts of another dress, lace at her cuffs.

Rescuing Cosgo and Kekki: robe on rags, only one shoe on. Later she cuts the hems of the robe and fashions them into a head wrap to cover her head on the Chalcedean ship.

SOD ball: Slippers, white laced gloves that came to her elbows and cleverly fashioned to show glints of her scaling through the lace. Gown was a confection of white with hidden panels of scarlet fabric that would flash when Reyn whirled her.

Selden Vestrit: 7 years old at the start of the book. He has silver scales across his cheeks near the middle of SOD and a blue shimmer to his lips. Day Paragon sails: Wears blue trousers and a white shirt.

Brashen Trell: 24 years old. Brown eyes, heavy brows, bristle beard, long moustache to hide corners of the mouth, muscled and shorter than Kyle, has a thick patch of curly hair in the centre of his chest and black stubble elsewhere on his chest and belly. 1st Outfit: He wears battered shoes and the edges of his rough cotton trousers are tattering. 2nd Outfit: Striped shirt, stockings, woolen trousers. 3rd Outfit: Yellow silk shirt, scarf at his throat, dark blue trousers, short jacket with some mending, hat (visit to the Vestrits). Day Paragon sails: White shirt and dark blue trousers and jacket. He has gaps in his brows in SOD after the serpent’s attack.

Amber: Gold skin, hair and eyes (tawny), bones of her cheeks and line of her nose too sharp to be feminine, flat chested and narrow hipped. Wears 4 swaying mismatched earrings: twisted wooden serpent in the left ear and a shining dragon in her right (each as long as a man’s thumb), freedom earring of silver net with a blue gem. (Later is dragon earring on the left ear and serpent swinging on the right...) She changes her skin during SOD and has skin and hair a bit darker.

When Althea first sees her: Wearing a long brown gown that hungs simply from her shoulders and has bare feet. When Althea encounters her again: Dressed in a long simple robe the color of a ripe acorn and has her hair down her back in a single shining plait. The fabric of her robe fells in pleats from her shoulders to the hem, concealing every line of her body. Her hands are gloved and she wears a necklace of simple wooden beds in every tone of brown that wood can be..

Slave Outfit: Smudge-faced, tattoo across one wind-reddened cheek, crusty sore encompassed half her upper lip and left nostril. Dirty hair pulling free from a scruffy braid, shirt of rough cotton, bare feet peeped out from her patched skirts, dirty bandage bound one of her ankles, rough canvas work gloves replaced the lacy ones Amber habitually wore, dirty canvas tote concealed inside a marked basket. Ragged scarf tied about her head and over her ears. She tucked her earrings up, out of sight.

Traders’ meeting: Wearing a simple golden-brown robe almost the same shade as the many plaited hair that hung over her shoulders.

On Paragon before sailing: Loose pantaloons, blouse and a vest, freed hair floated in the wind. Day Paragon sails: Togs of an ordinary sailor but buttons on trousers and shirt were carved beads, snuggly laced vest with fanciful butterflies embroidered in it, pale honey-.wood skin and hair, eyes almost the same shade, long hair back, braided and pinned to her head, mismatched earrings.

After serpent’s attack in SOD: Tawny hair hang from a peeling red scalp, the left side of her face and neck was scarlet, she walked with a limp and her hold her left arm close to her body.

Reyn Khuprus: Close to 20 years old at the start and turns 20 during the trilogy. Bronze skin, thick black curly hair, copper eyes with blue shine, blue highlight scales, scaled brow and scales around mouth and eyes.

First appearance: Blue gown with a jewel fastened at the throat (on the scarf - wears it life a muffler), heavily cloaked, face veiled, gloved hands, two small blue flame-jewels on his cuff. Veil that covered his face was split.

Visit to Malta: Dressed all in blue, discarded cloak of dark blue on a chair, traditional rain wild garb of loose trousers and long-sleeved shirt. Lean waist sashed with a wide silk belt of a darker hue than his other clothes, black boots peeped out from the loose cuffs of his trousers, fine black gloves studded with azure flame-gems, plain hoodmade of the same silk as the sash, face veil with black lace.

Summer ball: Veil of black lace, hood that covered his hair and back of his neck secured with an elaborated folded cravat of white silk, soft white shirt and black trousers, slim waist and narrow hips, wide shoulders, light dancing boots were filigreed with silver and gilt to match his veil.

End of SOD: Close-fitted indigo jacket, white cuffs, collar and trousers, black knee boots and small gold hoops in his ears.

Jani Khuprus: Smooth-faced for a rain wild trader, markings are subtle, pebbly outline traced the edge of her lips and eyelids. the white of her eyes and hair teeth and nails flow bluish. First appearance: Heavy outer cloak and hood. Scarlet flame jewels, lighter mantle of ivory also hooded and the lace veil was part of it. 15 flame jewels the size of shelled almonds. First Vestrit Visit: Scattering of flame jewels red on her face-veil. Reyn’s presentation to Malta: Face veil white lace shimmering with pearls, loose hood that covere her head decorated with braided and coiled silken tassels in many shades of blue. she wore an extravagantly beribboned blouse and loose pantaloons that were gathered at her ankles with yet more ribbons. Fanciful embroidery almost obscured the white linen that backed it.

Serilla: She is a head taller than Cosgo, has green eyes, brown hair, wears the ring of the companions of the heart and sandals. She was 19 when she met Cosgo. After cosgo calls her back (page 538 on "Mad Ship”): Loose pair of white pantaloons and red silk shirt, trousers belted with a finely woven black scarf, embroidered vest covered her breasts, hair braided back from her face, earrings and a throatpiece, fingers decked with rings, heavy chain of gold about her ankle. Summer ball: wears a cream gown. Council in SOD: long soft white robe decorated with crossing ropes of cloth of gold, long sleeves and cloak.

Satrap Cosgo: Taller than Malta, lean, no muscle, white skin, dark hair and eyes and has a tiny thin mustache. He was 15 when he met Serilla. Summer ball: Clothing soft and flowing in pastel hues, pale blue trousers cuffed tight to his ankles above his low soft shoes, loose folds of his saffron shirt shawled about his throat and shoulders. SOD: heavy scarlet cloak (too big for him) trimmed with jet beads and with a hood lined with fur given on Vivacia and used when he is taken by the Jamaillian ship.

Kekki: She has dark hair. Summer ball: Wears a gown of feathers and lace.

Jek: Long blonde hair caught in a tail, white teeth, long-boned and well muscled. On first appearance she wears a leather doublet, boots and a light cloak. On Paragon she wears sailor’s trousers that reach no farther than her knee, she did not bind her breasts and her hair was in a long braid.

Grag Tenira: Blue eyes, bronze skin, handsome, has work-scarred fingers and well muscled legs. In Bingtown: Dark coat and trousers and a white shirt. Traders’ Council: Dark blue traders robe seafarer style that show his legs and sandalled feet. Hiding: Dark shirt open at the throat and loose white trousers, golden earring.

Kyle Haven: Big man with broad hands, blue eyes and unruly blond hair. Wears tight-fitting breeches of blue and a blue jacket over a shirt of soft cream. Hair plaited with oil (first talk with Wintrown on the ship when tries to give him a earring). (Sailors wear something that marks them as a crew from Vivacia. An earring, a scarf, a pin or a tattoo. Kyle offers Wintrow a small gold earring with Vivacia’s figurehead - that he refuses.)

Ephron Vestrit: Black eyes, smooth black queue hair, beard.

Cerwin Trell: Slender, milky-skinned and has black hair. Harvest ball: blue trousers and coat, black boots, single gold earring in one ear, hair curled into long locks.

Delo Trell: She has brown eyes. Harvest ball: Wears a deep blue dress, hair plaited into a crown decked with fresh flowers, flounce of lace on her short skirts that went almost to mid calf and matching lace trimmed the high collar and cuffs. No jewellery. Summer ball: She wears blue stones at her throat and wrists and on the fine silver chains that secured her unswept hair, eyes and mouth are painted and has a fan.

Sorcor: Large well-muscled man with thick chest and a beard, tanned, has dark eyes and a scarred cheek where once was a slave tattoo. Oils his hair sleeked back from his bow for formal look. Wears a shirt of red and white striped silk and mermaid earrings with tiny pearls in her navels and green eyes. Dresses in a wide array of fine clothes in colors that bedazzled the eye. Silk scarf on his waist, jewelled dagger stuck in it, yellow silk shirt. Has a vest with gilt buttons, unruly hair caught back in a queue and further confined in a bright gold kerchief. In Chapter 18 of SOD: Emeralds in his ears and broad belt of leather worked with silver held two matching swords.

Davad Restart: Immaculately groomed, leggings bagged slightly at the knees, embroidered doublet laced too tight, modest belly looked like a bulging pot, dark ringlets on oiled hair but almost no curl so it fell in greasy locks. Small hands.

Caolwn Festrew: Leather gloves, cowl hiding face and hair, sagging growths on her face bobbed with movement of head, violet/lavender eyes, scaly growths that threatened her eyesight, lumpy flesh visible at the parting of her thick bronze hair, lumps and wattles of flesh depended from her fingers and knobbed the back of it were rubbery. Veil of lace in the hood tro cover the face.

Sparse Kelter: Wide man, red beard and red hair down his arms but not much on the crown of his head, has a chest as big as a barrel.

Ekke: Tall woman with freckles, big boned and has a red tint in her sandy tousled hair.

Cleff: About 11 years old, blue eyes, light hair and has a spidery tattoo by the side of his nose. He wears a ragged tunic scarcely longer than a shirt while working for Davad.

Dedge: Sea-grey eyes, hair no more than a fringe above his ears, muscled, tattoos on his face, sash of silk about his waist.

Gankis: An old sailor shorter than Kennit, has brown eyes, wears low shoes and a worn coat with big pockets.

Torg: Brawny man, not tall, has short blond hair, pale grey eyes and white eyebrows, skin underneath his round chin began to sag into a pouch. Wears a kerchief around his neck anciengly soiled, the collar of his blue and white striped shirt shows an interior band of brown.

Sa’Adar: Big priest, mark of shackles on wrists and ankles. unkempt hair spills onto his forehead, clothes have not been washed in days, dark eyes.

Mild: Around Wintrow’s age and a full head taller than him, hard-muscled, grey eyes and the hair on his cheeks is starting to dark into proper whiskers.

Comfrey: Has an elaborated tattoo on his arm and is missing a tooth. Wears a ragged red cap adorned with cheap brass charms.

Gantry: Tanned.

Ankle: Dark eyes (slave girl that crippled herself and limps).

Kennit’s mom: Thick woman with grey hair pinned up, blue eyes, barefoot, dressed in cotton tunic and trousers and has her tongue cut out.

Berandol: Young priest with more than 20 years old.

Bettel: Black locks into ringlets, wears layers of powder, wears lots of jewels, breasts showing volume on dress.

Avoretta: Small pale woman with an heart-shaped face and large blue eyes. Has painted pink chees, a plump little mouth painted red, short golden hair in tight curls all over her head. Dressed in pale blue with nipples visible beneath the pale gauze of her dress, wears gilted jewellery.

Faldin: Wears brilliant colors and extravagant embroidery. Expanse of fabric round his girth. Earrings were an elaborate twining of gold and silver. Wears a vest.

Daughters: Pale skin and honey hair (typical in Durja), almond-shaped hazel eyes, plump with bare arms round and white. One no more than 15 and the other at most 17. Alyssum and Lily.

Road Caern: Young trader, tall, lean, has dark eyes and black hair (usually in a tail), a sharp nose and narrow lips. Harvest ball: Hair flowed down his back in a black stream and his shoulders strained the seams of his tailored coat.

Krion Trentor: Harvest ball: Dressed in grey with a golden scarf at his throat. White gloves. Always wears gloves to cover the scars where he stumbled into a fire as a child. Aurburn hair, freckles, green eyes.

Fayla Cart - Old woman with a hair growing out of a warty looking mole on her chin. (first dress maker recommended by Delo to Malta)

Territel: Wears her skirts as if they were silk scarves, clinging and revealing her legs. (seamstress Malta chooses)

Devon: Gray eyes and handsome. (Althea’s first crush and a jerk)

Dujia: Heavy boned woman with tattoos across her cheek and down to her neck. Ragged trousers and patched tunic, bare feet dirty, bandage upon her upper arm (lider of the tattooed).

Guards in Cress: Kentel - Bearded veteran with a white stripe tracing an old scar through his dark hair and down his cheek; Flav - Younger and brawny. Both tall.

Clava: Slave Wintrow meets in Jamaillia. Blue eyes, yellow hair choped into a short brush, wide shoulders, very pale, wore shift patched and stained, shirt over her shoulders, face overwritten with tattoos.

Pag’s daughter: blue eyes (woman serving drinks in Nook - Crimpers scene).

Captain Finney: Brawny, whiskery-faced man, bright eyes, red-veined nose.

Brig: No more than 25 yo. Chestnut hair confined by a yellow kerchief marked with the raven insignia, grey eyes, old slave tattoo on his face over-needled with a dark blue raven that almost obscured it.

Lop: Skinny man of middle years on board of Paragon.

Haf: Larger than Althea, well muscled, youngster on board of Paragon.

Other in SOM: Nearly as tall as Kennit, webbed fingers and toes, flexible limbs, flat fish eyes, cartilaginous sockets, supple scaled skin, blunt bald head misshapen (not human or fish), hinge of jaw under his ear holes, large mouth that could engulf a man’s head, thin lips that cannot conceal rows of tiny sharp teeth, shoulders slumped forward, greyish tongue, neckless body. Wears a garment like a cloak of pale azure that moved like the fluidity of water.

Other in SOD: heavy slug like body, flexible limbs on upper body, long fingered hands, webbed fingers, grey-green body, yellow cloak, flat eyes.

LIVESHIPS:

Paragon: Warrior with a beard, hairy chest and muscled arms usually crossed on his muscled chest. He has hatchet bites between brow and nose and a peculiar star with 7 points livid as a burn scar on his chest. The chopped part is grey despite the figurehead being painted. Amber gives him a necklace with five wooden beds on a cord: a dolphin made of willow knee, a gull, a oak seastar, a crab of pine knot and a fish of halibut.

In “Ship of Destiny” Amber gives him Fitz’s face with the broken nose and gives him a freedom earring like hers, a wooden bracelet and a axe. He has blue eyes. Amber carves charging bucks on his axe handle and battle harness at the end of SOD.

Vivacia: Silver wood, black hair, sanded flesh flushed pink, green eyes, ample bared breasts, perfect teeth, red lips, golden maple wood figurehead. Kennit gives her a long red piece of fabric that she ties to her head like a pirate scarf.

Slaves bought by Kyle and on board the Vivacia had a clenched fist tattoo.

Bolt: She has golden eyes like a whirpool with black at the center, jet black hair shot with silver greens like a nest of serpents, lips are redder than Vivacia’s and her teeth are too white and smaller than before.

Ophelia: A cog ship. Like many figureheads of her day, she is arrayed upon the beakhead of the ship rather than positioned on the stern below the bowsprit. She has lips painted scarlet, very white teeth, long loose curls, patrician hands and eyelashes. She got blackened/scorched hands after meeting the chalcedean ship. Amber fixed her hands after.

Kendry: Handsome young man figurehead with blue eyes.

SERPENTS:

Maulkin: Male serpent with copper eyes and golden false eyes in his body.

Shreever: Scarlet female serpent.

Sessurea: Male blue serpent with orange mane and great green eyes.

Tellur: Male green serpent (dead).

Kelaro: Male blue serpent with silver eyes.

Sylic: Male scarlet serpent, has a scar (dead).

She Who Remembers: head the size of a pony, pale yellow-green body, plump and soft, thick layers of callus where she rubbed against the rocky walls of her prison, has golden eyes and a faint pattern on the body in colors that remind of the eyes in a peacock’s tail. When freed her body is green-gold (dead).

Carrion: White male serpent with red eyes (dead).

Tintaglia (dragon): Silver blue, bigger than a ship, sharp silver claws, silver/copper eyes (it changes... but usually is silver) the size of cartwheels with eliptical pupils.

#rote #Realm of the Elderlings #Liveship Traders #character descriptions

54 notes · View notes

plush-anon · 3 years

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SCOOB! Stream of Consciousness Review

Here we are folks - I finally review the originally cinematic, fully CGI animated Scooby Doo Movie (one year later... I did not queue this as I thought I had last June - damn you, Tumblr. I’m not changing much here, so enjoy as it was intended).

Created by a team who have professed their affection for this mystery team and their meddling dog too, will this be a lush experience fit to satisfy any Hanna-Barbera fan? Or will it be a hot garbage cash-grab, littered with Easter eggs and references that do nothing to hide a meatless mess of outdated memes and shallow character development?

LET’S

FIND

OUT

Below this cut is my entire stream-of-consciousness review on the SCOOB! Movie, as experienced. SPOILER warning here - I’m digging into everything, no plot points spared.

Here we go~

And we start off with a decent shot of the California coastline (looks like the kids backstory is front and center), some 90s hip-hop synthwave song about California, and OH SWEET JESUS THESE MODELS LOOK TERRIBLE

Ahem

Yeah, this is a problem right off the bat - some of these people in the opening shots look remarkably unfinished - think three shades above “Rapsittie Kids: Believe in Santa” level - and the animation on them is less than stellar.

On the plus side, we do see a fantastic variety of ages, sizes, and races - there’s a brief blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Sikh man on roller skates playing a sitar - but when the designs look rushed in the opening shots, it’s not a fantastic sign. At least they’re brief, but it’s hard to see if this is a lower level of the film’s style due to rushed animation, or if they didn’t care to polish it up as much, given that it’s maybe a 30 second scene.

Still, kudos to actually going for variety in the crowd shots. Minus kudos to making most of the clothes look like Play-doh draped over a Barbie doll. I’m not even kidding on that one, the clothes are super basic and barely have any sign of texture or creasing or even fabric/cut variety. Almost reminds me of the first Toy Story movie’s design for human clothes, yeesh.

----

Ahh, our first introduction to Scooby Doo at a Greek gyro food stand. That’s foreshadowing right there folks! 😉

Sadly, he is really weirdly animated in his run sequence - he looks out of proportion as he’s running on his hind legs, and the human animation has really bad consistency - some background characters are really janky, while others actually move really nicely. The characters we immediately focus on seem to be pretty smooth at least, but that’s still very strange.

On a side note: Ruby and Spears Sub Sandwich shop. Nice 😁

----

They are reaaaally pushing the super over-the-top dramatic music for a bike cop chasing a dog that stole gyro meat

Why

It’s not even interesting chase music, just generic super-hyped-up chase music

----

And now we finally get to see a young Shaggy, standing next to a tie-dye food stand called Casey’s Confections that… sells meat. Hm. Guess WB hasn’t learned after all these years 🙄

Unfortunately, I’m not a huge fan of the kid they got to play him, Iain Armitage. He’s not a bad voice actor by any means, but he just doesn’t sound right for Shaggy. I know that as a kid he’d be much less likely to have a cracking/squeaky voice, but he sounds… it’s hard to pin down a word, but - precocious? Darling? Either way it doesn’t quite match, especially given how Shaggy sounds when he grows up via Will Forte. Just… no connection there.

I tie it down to the particular vocal twangs and nuances the gang usually has. I’ll touch base on that note later I think, once we hit the teenage versions of the gang, but for now I’m just not feeling it.

----

On the one hand, I empathize deeply with Shaggy and his Spotify’s unsettling ability to pinpoint his insecurities with song choices, and also deeply enjoy that one small gesture where his fingers kind of shake & tighten around his phone while he takes a deep breath to calm himself- it’s a very nice, subtle sign of frustration

On the other hand we just passed two guys with no nipples and an unerring likeness to a Ken doll in those Barbie movies, so I’m distracted by that now

(between this and Fred’s no-nipples in Happy Halloween SD!, is WB just terrified of giving men nipples in animated movies now? what gives?)

Also distracted by the thrifty lesbians who bought those two shirts that come together to make a heart in the middle, on the store’s 2 for 1 day

happy pride y’all!

---

Finally got context for the two sand piles!

Very, very sad context, but still! Progress!

Basically Shaggy’s practicing talking to people in order to learn how to make friends, since he either has no idea how, or has never had a friend before. So he’s trying to learn the right way to do it since his own attempts have failed

And him talking to these sand piles not only counts as practice, but he’s using them so that his mom thinks he’s spending time with friends like he told her

Ow :)

---

So ketchup leather is apparently a thing that exists

I’m learning so much today!

---

Given that Shaggy has no friends at this stage, but he’s still called Shaggy, I’m kind of wondering if that was a mean nickname that everyone called him, but he was just grateful for the interaction/pretended it was from friends, so he kept it 🤔

Actually, take it back, his mother is calling him that. Family nickname, maybe…?

----

Shaggy has Blue Falcon (classic) and Dynomutt funko pops

noice

---

Oof, you can reaaaaally hear the age in Frank Welker’s Scooby voice. Can we get Scott Innes back? He sounds almost identical to his performance 20+ years ago :/

Also talking waaaay too much - even SDMI Scooby wasn’t this wordy, and he NEVER shut the hell up

----

Okay wait

So Shaggy met Scooby on Halloween day - then met the rest of the gang hours later?

Huh. And here I was thinking it would have been a few weeks minimum

Although I have to say there is a lot here to work with, if it paces out how I think it does

Shaggy meets Scooby. Bare hours later, he buys him a collar (instead of his mom? weird) and asks him to stay with him, despite not really knowing him. Then, only a couple hours after that, he finally makes some friends… but only when Scooby is with him.

Given that it looks like the gang are all around the same age in the same neighborhood, there’s a solid chance that they’ve taken classes together at the same school. If none of them met/knew/made friends with Shaggy then, but only did so AFTER Scooby came into the picture, that might lead to the argument we know about later when they split up; afterwards, S&SD go to the bowling alley, then get abducted by the Blue Falcon, plot continues. This could make it seem like they were only friends with him at the start because he had a dog.

And the brief scene earlier with the music device shows that he tries to tamp down on his anger/doesn’t really address it - could lead to something more later

hmmmm 🤔

---

Wait what

These two kid bullies just came out of nowhere, stole Shaggy’s candy… and then started on about how Halloween is only a marketing ploy to get companies to rot your teeth and go to the dentist more, before throwing the bag through a window and telling the two that ‘your blood sugar will thank us for it!’

Are - are these the brainwashed children of a Karen? Is that what I’m seeing?

I mean we could have had a Red Herring cameo, but apparently informing children about candy conspiracy theories is more important :/

----

Daphne: It’s Halloween - no one should go home without their candy

FD&V: *none of them have candy/candy bags*

???????

(Wouldn’t it make more sense if the bullies had stolen their candy too? What the hey man)

----

I do find it neat that we actually get to SEE the wires the ‘ghost’ uses to fly in full effect - that’s actually pretty cool, and not really something we get to see up close in older Scooby shows. Most of those just have the bad guy randomly flying about, and the wires revealed after the fact

---

Actually, given how FD&V react to this ghost almost immediately… have they already been solving mysteries? It seems like it, given how smoothly they move together to capture him

That’s kind of odd in kids. Like, even in PNSD they weren’t perfectly in-sync on stuff

This then leads to the gang solving mysteries together… in spite of the fact that all Shag and Scoob did was hide in the wardrobe that had the stolen goods, while FD&V captured the dude

Granted, they do ask Shag and Scoob if they wanna join in and say yes, but that seems like an strange jump after what could have been a one-time deal

I just find that a touch odd - esp when they could have had a five minute scene or so of them wandering around the house, touching on some old SDWAY traits. Heck, show that they’re SCARED in some way, and don’t immediately move to tackle what looks like a murderous spirit at age 8-9 or so. Even just showing the kids learning about each other would be enough, but what do I know. I’ve only watched Scooby Doo everything since I was 4 🙄

---

Ahhhh, and now for the updated rendition of the theme song

Where they’re all still kids doing everything the teenage gang did in the theme song

It doesn’t look as good as the OG, though - kind of like a computer game simulating the SDWAY intro using the PNSD kids in CGI. It’s honestly strange to see, and a little jarring - especially when we then transition to the older teenage gang right in the middle

Like, we don’t get to see you guys age through the song as you’re chased by/catch different monsters? That could have been pretty neat honestly - shows how long they’ve been doing this

Tho I gotta admit, seeing the Spooky Space Kook with his OG sound effects is pretty awesome, brief as it waoH MY GOD FRED WHY ARE YOU HAVING A ROMANTIC BEACHSIDE DATE WITH THE MYSTERY MACHINE

THAT WASN’T IN THE ORIGINAL AND NO ONE ELSE GETS A CHARACTER INSIGHT SHOT LIKE THIS

WHY

----

Huh, looks like Ruby & Spears gave up their subway sandwich shop for a coffee shop

That apparently the gang goes to in order to eat malt shop food

okay?

----

Ah, and here’s where we finally look at the voice acting of the older teenage gang. Buckle up folks, cause I gotta lot to say

We’ll start with Fred, bc honestly? I think Efron actually fits him pretty dang well. He’s got a different cadence from Welker, true, but as far as an update goes? I think he’s a solid fit. Very much in line with the all-American kid that Fred’s kind of been slated as for the past 50 years or so, but updated more for the modern perspective. I call it solid (and possibly a replacement for whenever Welker decides to retire).

Next? Oof. Velma is, IMHO, the weakest casting. Velma, no matter her voice actress, has ALWAYS had some form of nasal twang to her voice - that’s part of what makes her Velma to begin with, and helps her stand out. Nicole Jaffe, Pat Stevens, BJ Ward, Christina Lange (PNSD), Mindy Cohn, Kate Micucci, Linda Cardellini -heck, even Haley Kiyoko from ‘The Mystery Begins’ and Sarah Gilman from the ‘Daphne and Velma’ movie understood this! They all had that nasal twang to their voice - differing between actresses, of course, but still recognizable as Velma. Gina Rodriguez though? Honestly, it just sounds like she’s acting it straight. Not bad acting at all, by any means - she just doesn’t sound like Velma, and doesn’t seem to be trying to. (Honestly wondering if she was only hired bc she voices Carmen Sandiego in the reboot cartoon for the lolz fun reference! type connection)

Daphne is sort of similar in voices, but hers is more of a pitch her voice hits - Heather North, Mary Kay Bergman, and Grey Delisle Griffin all have that pitch they hit naturally when speaking. Amanda Seyfried? Does not - in fact, her voice is actually deeper than I was expecting - but it’s not quite as big a difference as it is for Velma. It fits her character type okay, and she does well with it overall.

And finally, the most controversial one: Will Forte’s Shaggy.

I’ll go ahead and say this: he’s not Scott Menville levels of bad Shaggy voice acting. If I were to place him on a list, I’d probably put him around Billy West level - kind of sounds similar via vocal tics (voice cracking, likes and zoinks, etc), but his own voice just overtakes the impression he’s seeking to hit. When I hear him speak, I don’t really hear Shaggy; I just hear Will Forte trying to do an impression of Shaggy.

In comparison: when Scott Innes took over for Shaggy, it was like Casey Kasem’s, just a touch more of a twang to his voice and just a dash over-the-top - but it was still Shaggy, and you didn’t doubt that for a minute.

Same thing for Lillard, but maybe moreso - he was pretty much the most perfect casting for a live-action Shaggy there could be at the time Scooby Doo (2002) was made. Him taking over for Kasem from there made perfect sense: he was honestly the best cast Mystery Inc member of the live-actions, and a lot more recognizable to the general public as Shaggy than Scott Innes was. He could also do different emotions with Shaggy that not a lot of the other voice actors had the chance to do (mainly bc script), so for future stuff they have that flexibility, if they wanted to play around a little more.

With any luck Forte will get better over the course of the movie, but honestly the casting could have been so much better with Matt Lillard and Kate Micucci.

----

Shaggy Rogers, evading taxes since 2020

----

siMON COWELL??!?

WHAT THE

WHY?!?!?

ALSO HIS CHARACTER DESIGN STYLE IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE REST OF THE GANG WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON?!!?

IS HE SUPPOSED TO BE THE SD CELEBRITY CAMEO

IF YOU WERE GOING TO DO A CAMEO FROM AMERICAN IDOL WHY NOT RYAN SEACREST

HE TOOK OVER FOR CASEY KASEM ON THE AMERICAN TOP 40 WOULDN’T THAT MAKE MORE SENSE

aaauuuggghhh

---

Also he’s there as a potential investor in Mystery Inc as a detective agency

A music industry professional… is interested in funding a detective agency.

Like… did he miss out on Josie & the Pussycats? Is that why he’s here?

----

Wait a minute

Oh noooooo

I know why he’s here

I remember this spoiler

Shit

-----

And once again, here is your reminder to tell Simon Cowell a great big fcuk you

Only this time it’s for making Shaggy and Scooby feel worthless and saying that friendship is worthless and cannot be counted on for anything worthwhile

Simon Cowell: Professional Dickhead

---

Welp, at least this gives a solid reason why they leave: Simon Cowell was being a professional dickhead, and the gang didn’t really say anything against him or interrupt him on his whole ‘Shag and Scoob are worthless spiel’

Or, well... Daphne stepped up some, but more to say ‘they’re our friends!’ rather than ‘that’s entirely wrong, our friends aren’t worthless!’ Better than nothing, but yeesh

----

Ahhh, Takamoto Bowling - the emptiest bowling alley in the evenings this side of Coolsville

(no seriously, the past few times my dad has taken my sister and me bowling pre-pandemic, no matter the day or time? it’s ALWAYS got more than 6 lanes of people there, what the heck)

Also Scooby wears three bowling shoes, which honestly makes more sense than I thought it would - that pup goes spinning and sliding every which way on a normal floor, bowling alley floors would be like ten times worse

----

here’s a nice little detail - when Scooby sees one of the bowling pins peek out with red eyes and he yells that to Shaggy, Shaggy actually squints and walks closer to see if it actually does have eyes

aww

----

Huh, okay

Panicked Will Forte Shaggy actually sounds more like a good Shaggy voice than normal talking Will Forte Shaggy

I can dig it

---

Still kind of underwhelmed by the Shag and Scoob disguise scene - wouldn’t it make more sense to have them like, dish up hot sauce or something on a plate that nonsensically makes the robots overheat before they discover their ruse?

Idk, maybe they’re off their game after Simon ‘Dickhead’ Cowell

---

Carlton Way - must be named after Fred’s only other voice actor, Carlton Stevens of PNSD

Also Hanna’s Barber Shop is next to Barbera’s Pizza! Cute.

And… Pitstop’s Pink Perfume ad. Wait, who is that? *assorted googling noises*

...ahhh, Penelope Pitstop from Wacky Races! Who, according to Wikipedia, was revealed to have Greek ancestry in the 2016 Wacky Raceland comic book, having been born on the island of Aegina

Now I’m wondering if we’ll see her in this too, given Cerberus...

----

Honestly kind of fascinating to see the gang with a police radio in their van

Also fascinating to see that only main characters are allowed clothing variety and texture/creases/folds

---

it’s actually really sweet to see Fred, upon hearing that Shag and Scoob are likely in danger, immediately makes a 90 degree turn in traffic

---

It looks like they changes Dee Dee’s name a hair - now it’s Dee Dee Skyes, instead of Sykes

It works well for the Falcon aesthetic, so that’s cool

----

Shaggy, after Dee Dee tells them that Dastardly’s trying to kill them: Scoob, someone thinks we’re important enough to *mimes slitting throat*!

Scooby: It’s nice to be wanted.

Excellent! This movie has captured Shag and Scoob’s blasé attitude towards death! Now we’re onto a solid Scooby film :D

Dee Dee: Hmm, I hear that!

And they even have a friend to share in their attitude! Splendid!

----

Christ, I can work photoshop better than Blue Falcon can, and I don’t even know how to use photoshop

I will give major kudos on his costume tho - it maintains the important elements of the OG Falcon, while still updating it with more bird-related aesthetic, like the feathered appearance of parts of his costume, the split cape resembling the tail feathers, and the talon gauntlets & boots. neat!

---

Yooo, Dynomutt, I thought secret identities were still a thing with Superheroes, what the hey are you doing giving it out to a duo you literally just picked up behind a bowling alley

Ngl, I’m kinda hoping we get some scenes where Dynomutt messes up a little like in the OG cartoon - this one feels really serious, which is kind of strange

---

Okay now I want to see older!Blue Falcon come in for a cameo

Mainly bc I’m getting the feeling that this one is a major dumbass, and not in the fun and friendly himbo kind of way 😑

---

Wait, THAT’S our first look at Dastardly? That’s a bit abrupt, isn’t it?

Also his ship must be pumping thousands of gallons of toxins into the air, that smoke cloud looks hideous. Forget logging into his mom’s Netflix account like the trailer said, EPA should probably be hunting him for sport with a laser cannon, jesus fcuking christ

---

Honestly kinda want a plane you can pilot like a motorbike now

---

Welp, it looks like we have a fun, mustache-twirly, puns-aplenty, loves-to-be-bad kind of villain on our hands folks! This is gonna be FUN AS HECK

---

Eurgh, this scene - the super-stiff-but-stretched-out ‘yeeurgh’ faces really squick me for some reason, but I can’t really pinpoint why

---

I have decided I highly dislike the Brian Blue Falcon, or Brian Falcon for short, and would like to see Dastardly tie him to some railroad tracks

---

North St for Heather North, and… wait… Funland Carnival? Like where Charlie the Robot hung out?

Apparently that’s in Romania.

A very yellow-greenfilter Romania at that.

Like, I’ve seen blue washes on movies trying to portray evening in the middle of the day so they don’t actually have to shoot at night, but yellow? That’s normally used for deserts and hot days and uhhh

NOT for evenings in a country with landscape like THIS

odd

(I mean I guess they got the mountains and trees right, but still. Yellow filters make a place look arid, which Romania is Not, to my knowledge)

----

Dude, Brian Falcon is such an idiot even Shaggy and Scooby, commonly portrayed as the idiots of Mystery Inc, look at him like he’s a moron.

(They are Not Amused.)

Also Brian Falcon is an absolute coward. That’s new. Even Shaggy and Scooby face off against the robots directly in a Whack-a-Mole game and destroy some. Dude, get your head in the fcuking game already, yikes

Woah, Laff-a-Lympics, Wacky Races, Hex Girls, The Banana Splits, Penelope Pitstop, Space Stars, Posse Impossible, and Hong Kong Phooey easter eggs in one shot

Geezus

---

Another nice moment: when cornered by Dastardly, Shaggy moves to stand in front of Scooby to protect him

---

Dastardly (to Shaggy): I don’t care about YOU. You’re not REMOTELY important!

*proceeds to shoot Shaggy THROUGH the ceiling and up into the highest car on a Ferris Wheel where Brian Falcon is hiding like a man baby*

Welp, so much for a fun and zany villain. Time for this Plush Anon to kill a bitch *cocks shotgun*

I will, too - kudos to the animators for hurting me so badly with the face Shaggy made right before being shot because

---

Ehehehhehe, yess, the infamous ‘Dick’ scene

Dastardly: No, I’m a DICK. With a D!

You sure are, you sack of dildos with a D!

This scene had to be put in on purpose - if this had been released in theaters, I just know the adults would be dying in laughter 🤣🤣🤣

----

Shaggy: Brian, do something!

Brian Falcon: Like what?

Shaggy: Like, drop some F-Bombs!

love it 😂

---

Is it like movie law now, that if there’s an action scene with a Ferris Wheel in the background, it has to fall off and roll down a mild incline like a wheel? Because it kinda feels like it

---

Aha! Dastardly said his drats! Perfection.

Now to shoot him through a ceiling to make them matter even more :D

---

OOF.

Well that hurt.

Poor Shaggy - basically internalizing now that he’s the worthless one and weak link of the group now that Scooby is considered more important

---

Holy fcuk I’m crying

Shaggy just broke Brian Falcon down to his deepest insecurities without even trying while talking to him

He even used the words ‘imposter syndrome’

Shaggy hon, you’re the best

----

Oh hey, Fred, Daphne, and Velma! It’s been a while since we saw you guys again, what are you doing?

Arguing about the metric system and realizing that Shaggy and Scooby reminding them to eat periodically helped them keep a clearer head...

And using the word ‘hangry’.

But then looking through a ridiculously cute photo album of the two and a video the gang took together (the video is honestly really heckin’ cute, 10000/10 would recommend)...

And then getting pulled over so Fred can have a brief ‘oo-la-la’ montage about the pretty blonde cop who honest-to-gods looks like a Barbie doll.

Where Daphne then describes how ugly Dastardly is...

Right before the petite blonde cop who’s maybe like 5’7” at best rips off her outfit to reveal it was Dick Dastardly this entire time, all 7ish feet of him.

And then kidnaps them all along with the Mystery Machine while he makes terribly fun dorky puns

…

...SO BACK TO SCOOBY AND SHAGGY...

---

...where Scooby is making kissy faces in the mirror while wearing his Blue Falcon uniform

Hrm, that’s not really better is it

We actually see Shaggy reading (OG) Blue Falcon’s autobiography, and making hurt but snide comments about Scooby’s ego

Which are actually pretty clever tbh

-----

Cooooooongratulations, Fred Jones! You are now officially a full-on himbo!

----

Alas, poor Daphne. While your knowledge of the tropes of your show might have served you well in other places, this was to be a theatrical release once upon a time, and so such knowledge falls to ruin.

----

You know, I just realized - we’re never really told HOW the Cerberus skulls work, both in how each skull can be used to find the others, and, presumably, in releasing Cerberus itself. We’re given a brief glance-over of Scooby’s ancestry (and I mean REALLY damn brief), and a quick mention that these are supposed to be Cerberus’ skulls being stolen, but… that’s it. Nothing else is given.

Now, I read the first few chapters of my SCOOB! Junior Novelization, and it actually went into further detail about the skulls themselves and what Dastardly’s initial plan was early in the book - open the gates of Hades and obtain the seas of treasure therein. It acted as an introduction both to the climatic endgame we’ll face at the end of the movie, and to Dastardly, who uses the same disguise trick he used as the Barbie cop when he stole the first one in South America.

(They actually DID plan to use this as Dastardly’s intro, but cut this… 3 minute scene for time. Yeah. See below video for the details - honestly think they should have kept it in. Saves time later and definitely more show than tell, compared to what we got)

youtube

I feel like that would be a better introduction to him than the one we got - hell, it would have fit in quite neatly after the revamped theme song montage. They could have the scene with Dastardly finding/stealing the first skull as an introduction (as above), then have him answer a call or something. Exposit openly “You found the key! Excellent! Now where are we going next?”

THEN cut to the diner/coffee shop scene we had earlier. We still wouldn’t know exactly what the key was/entailed off the bat, and they could still have FD&V find out on their own - maybe by hacking the little robot instead? IDK.

---

The final skull is on Messick Mountain.

Cute.

On a side note, I do love how Dastardly’s ship interior looks - very dieselpunk

---

Velma just hacked into Dynomutt… somehow, and I finally get my wacky Dynomutt shenanigans! Hazoo!

...sadly that was really dang brief. Realistic, yes, but still too brief.

---

Eyyyy, we finally get the whys of why Scooby is needed! … really dang fast.

Also Fred says Jinkies.

----

Hey, Muttley popped up! In a shrine… to his demise… that we find out he reached when Dastardly pushed him forward into the Underworld to steal the treasure of Alexander the Great in a portal he rigged up… only for both of them to find out it was a one-way deal unless they used the key to be able to come back. The key, of course, being Scooby Doo, descendent of Peritas, Alexander’s dog.

Eh, workable enough-ish. It’s interesting to see that Dastardly, despite how much he disliked Muttley in the older cartoons, still cares about him to a certain extent.

---

Pfff, Fred’s a poor man’s Hemsworth XD

---

Sweet, we’re in ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth’ now!

---

O W W W

You guys really had to do the ‘me or them’ thing with Shaggy and Scooby… and tHeN hAvE sCoObY cHoOsE tHe FaLcONs?!? Just because they said he was important as “the key” and gave him a spandex costume.

Over at least 7 years of friendship.

Booooooooooooo

---

actually no I’m Not Done Yet

This whole scene is a mess.

Shaggy’s turn was really dang fast… but I can still see how he gets to it. It’s at least a day between Scooby being chosen as a pseudo-sidekick and the island arrival, during which Shaggy’s talk with the main adult (who has taken up the mantle of his favorite superhero) essentially confirms his feelings of worthlessness and leaves him to stew for HOURS on end (on top of another adult, Dastardly, who also calls him “not even REMOTELY important” at the carnival before freaKING SHOOTING HIM THROUGH THE CEILING NO I AM NOT OVER THIS). Tie that to a teenager who also believes his only friends have come to think he’s meaningless baggage, and suddenly his entire support system is vanishing underneath him to one of his former idols without ANY sign of hesitation from Scooby’s part (with the exception of the collar scene, but I don’t think that that means the same to Scooby, given how quickly he bounces back)

Scooby tho… hrm. It could be that he’s clinging to the good feelings Brian Falcon inspires in him (by choosing him as the next possible Dynomutt), as a way to overpower how FD&V hurt him, while also building on how he came to love the duo because SHAGGY loved them so much. But the movie doesn’t frame that up… at all?? At least compared to Shaggy.

Idk, maybe I’m missing something, but this scene is a mess through and through

Boooooo

----

Scooby: *tries to leap into Brian Falcon’s arms like he did with Shaggy but falls*

Brian: Uh, what are you doing?

Scooby: Rhaggy never missed.

Damn straight he didn’t

---

oh hey, it’s Captain Caveman

I was wondering when we’d see him.

---

AAAUUGGHH

It’s that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it scene from the trailers I sobbed over - the one with Shaggy holding Scooby’s collar

Fun fact it actuALLY FADES INTO THE FLASHBACK

THAT WAS NOT A TRAILER THING THAT’S ACTUALLY HERE IN THE MOVIE

---

Oh No

Fred is here, alone, after that whole scene with Dastardly saying he had a use for Fred

...while that’s likely Dastardly in a Fred suit (that sounds creepy just typing it), I’m still going to enjoy this brief but absolutely lovely hug Shaggy and Fred share...

(seriously tho, look at this, it’s a genuinely close, squish-your-lungs-out kind of hug, I love it)

...as well as Shaggy, who's still hurt from his fight with Scooby, immediately gearing up to go help him after hearing Dastardly’s trying to kidnap him.

----

Brian Falcon and Scooby Doo now have to take on Captain Caveman in gladiatorial combat in order to claim the final skull of Cerberus

I love cartoons sometimes

----

Captain Caveman just put the smackdown on Brian Falcon and punched him into the ground up to his CHEST

Then smacked him so far into a wall he cracked the stone around him!

GodDAMN is this satisfying 😆 altho minor question here: how did he gain the rank of Captain? Do cavepeople have a naval force?

---

He just whirled Scooby around his head, then spun him so fast his costume broke off

I may have to look into some Captain Caveman stuff now, that’s fantastic

---

Shaggy and Fred - sorry, “Fred” - just smashed through to the colosseum in the Mystery Machine

And Dynomutt just fired missiles at Captain Caveman to smash him into an Amigara-shaped hole of himself

I REALLY love cartoons sometimes

---

Oh No

Just as Shaggy starts trying to apologize, “Fred” kicks him in the back, rips off his disguise to normal Dastardly self, and kidnaps Scooby atop the skull, before revealing he destroyed the Falcon Fury jet

New tagline for this movie? Shaggy Rogers and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day

...at least the rest of the gang is back together?

---

Brian Falcon: *Immediately tries to blame Shaggy for inadvertently leading Dastardly to them, while storming up to get in his face*

Fred: *upon realizing BrianF is blaming Shaggy for everything, without a SINGLE moment’s hesitation, immediately leaps in to defend Shaggy and physically push back Brian Falcon several feet*

We stan one Himbo, theydies and gentlethem

Also?

Velma (sneering): What kind of hero blames other people for his problems? *Walks over to comfort Shaggy with Daphne, while Shaggy looks dumbfounded they’re defending him bc he also blames himself for Scooby’s kidnapping*

This. This right here, is the kind of Mystery gang content I wanna see.

I don’t care how the rest of this movie goes now, this scene right here is ambrosia to the Scooby fan’s soul, and therefore makes this entire movie worth it, outdated memes, lingo, and all

---

Cackling rn - Fred and Brian Falcon are in a point-off a la the Spiderman meme 😂

or, more specifically, the post-credits sequence of Spiderverse where they’re arguing about who started pointing first

It gets better when Velma and Daphne try to pull each other off of their pushing fight, and Velma grumbles “Toxic Masculinity” I’m crying

---

WOAH

More super Shaggy stuff here (apart from being flung through a building roof without a scratch) - he pushes apart both groups effortless, and even knocks them back several feet

If we estimate Dynomutt as… we’ll say 450 since he’s made of metal, Falcon at 220, Dee Dee at 160, that’s about 830 lbs on one side

Then Fred, Daphne and Velma on the other (hmm, 180, 150, 130?) would be around 460 lbs

Dang boi

---

Oh honey no, it’s not your fault

But dang if he didn’t get a good message from it, one I’ve done my best to transcribe here:

“I was afraid that... things were gonna change. And they did change. But like, that’s okay! People can grow. But it doesn’t mean that we’re growing apart. Because the one thing that will never change is that Scooby Doo is my best friend! Ten years ago, a little boy made a promise to a stray puppy that he’d never leave him no matter what. And I’m gonna keep that promise! Now it’s time we stopped that mustachioed menace from opening the gates to the {underworld} and letting loose that fearsome {Cerberus}. So what do you say we get out {of here}, and go get my always-snacking, never-lacking, often-napping dog back? Who’s with me?”

Honestly not a bad message for kids. Things will change, people will change, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop being friends. (Obvs real life exceptions apply, but that’s not a bad note honestly)

...shame that that conclusion comes right the FUCK outta nowhere

How, exactly, did he come to this conclusion? WHEN? What inspired him to realize this, what was the impetus for this specific line of thought, that it’s okay for friends to change?

It kinda feels like this should have been either the happy ending speech given after they’ve saved the world, or one at the start of the third act, like if Shaggy arrives when Scooby thinks he’s chased him away and ruined everything, and Shaggy & the gang still save him. And Scooby asks him why he did that - when Scooby tried to change himself to fit what Brian Falcon wanted, instead of treasuring the friend he still had, or maybe why Shaggy reacted the way he did. THEN Shaggy gives the speech we hear, a la:

“I yelled at you because… like, because I was scared. I was scared that... things were gonna change. And they did change. But like, that’s okay! People can grow. But it doesn’t mean that we’re growing apart. Because the one thing that will never change is that YOU’RE my best friend! Ten years ago, a little boy made a promise to a stray puppy that he’d never leave him no matter what. And I mean to keep it!”

At least that would make a little more sense to me. Again, not a bad speech, but a little rearranging would help to really hit home.

---

Okay, now we’re back with Dastardly in Greece, and suddenly the background people all look MILES better than the ones at the start of the movie. Did they just forget to polish the first two minutes of film, what the heck?

Also, Dastardly’s ship is literally the entire length of the Greek ruins presented o_O

---

HOLY SHIT THE SKULLS TURNED BACK TIME AND MADE THE RUINS INTO AN ENTIRELY RESTORED PALACE WITH THE GATES OF THE UNDERWORLD BEFORE THEM

They’re also colored a very atmospheric neon arrangement that’s surprisingly quite tasteful ^.^

----

The Mystery Machine can fly now!!! eeheeheeeheeheeheeheeee

----

And so we finally see Cerberus, a massive, towering figure with sharp teeth and pffffffhahahhahaa why are all three heads wearing Spartan helmets

To its credit, they’re also wearing basic body armor, wrist guards, tail spikes, etc, but the helmets are killing me 🤣 who thought to stick that onto the dog? Did Hades forget to remove the armor after winning the Gods’ Pet Costume Contest, or was it like that horse in the ATV costume - it felt safer so it didn’t let anyone take it off?

Or was this a precaution against Herakles coming back? These are questions - hilarious, hilarious questions 😁

---

Awww. Scooby immediately runs to the battered Mystery Machine to rip the doors open for the gang!

And… wait. THIS is where that wonderful hug was in the trailers? I thought that was at the end of the movie when everyone was safe!

This now does not bode well. But we’ll worry about that later. Time to enjoy this gorgeous wonderful hug of the entire gang, and Shag and Scoob apologizing to each other for fighting 🥰

Yet another scene to make the rest of this movie worth the rest

(halfway wanna frame this shit and put it on the wall, it’s that lovely)

----

Fantastic! Dastardly is now in Hell, where I’ve been wishing him this entire movie! :D

And dang… he actually apologizes to what he believes is a dead Muttley. Who is, naturally, snickering at all of this. The two bicker predictably, but eventually hug and make up, too happy to see each other to resort to old habits. Honestly a nice little scene, all-in-all.

---

Back to the gang and they’re doing the glowy eyes in the dark bit! I actually haven’t seen that in a Scooby movie forever, it’s neat.

Also Fred is now going full Liam Neeson over his van, war paint and all, using the tire cover as a shield and… holy shit.

HOLY SHIT

THE ASCOT IS BAAAnnnnnd it’s gone. Boy, that was… short.

Fred just ran full-tilt at Cerberus, screaming like a mad man, before getting flicked away by its big toe, and losing the ascot and makeshift shield. It punched so hard his facepaint came off

It was fun while it lasted y’all

---

Heyyy, Shag and Scoob just came up with the plan, and it’s actually solid! I’m so proud, and so is the rest of the gang! Also willingly going to distract Cerberus while the rest figure out how to close the gate and stuff Cerberus back in

I love my boys 😊

---

Annnnd there goes Brian Falcon like the coward he is

To… call his dad? And admit he isn’t a hero.

Only for Dynomutt to point out Shaggy and Scooby are taking him on and are terrified.

This then cuts to Shaggy and Scooby running around in a chariot and gladiator wear, running back and forth a la the door gag from Cerberus to the OG SDWAY theme

I think I love this movie

(although they’re hinting at Dynomutt being resentful of OG Blue Falcon essentially abandoning him to his incompetent son, and I really wish it had been touched upon more

that’s actually rather heartbreaking, when you stop to think about it, and there’s a lot that could be done with an additional two minutes of screentime)

---

Huh, another good message for kids: it’s okay to fail and be scared, so long as you keep going and try to do what’s right.

Two good messages for kids in one movie. Not too shabby, on the whole.

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Brian Falcon just flew in and punched the three-headed dog, then jumped into its mouth as it tried to eat Scooby, resisted the MASSIVE JAW STRENGTH, and got them out of there safe and sound

Finally, something heroic!

I was wondering where Dastardly and Muttley got off to - apparently they’re off to take a money bath.

Aight

---

Shag and Scoob have now convinced the Rotten Robots to turn into bowling balls to knock Cerberus off their feet a la the classic marbles pratfall back into the underworld

That is a sentence I just wrote

----

OH FCUK NO

ABSOLUTELY NOT NO

YOU ARE TELLING US THAT AFTER ALL OF THIS - ALL OF THIS - ONE OF THEM HAS TO STAY IN THE UNDERWORLD TO LOCK THE GATE

THAT OCTOBER LEAKER WAS RIGHT WHAT THE HELL

LITERALLY SO

I mean i know its a kids film specifically Scooby Doo so happy ending but what the literal FUCK

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WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGHHH

SHAGGY NOOOO

“Buddy, back when we were kids, you saved me. Now, it’s my turn.”

and he dOES THIS WHILE HOLDING SCOOBY’S HEAD TENDERLY IN HIS HANDS

AND WHEN EVERYTHING REVERTS IT’S JUST RUBBLE AND RUIN AND SCOOBY’S LEFT SOBBING OPENLY AT NOTHING

AND THE GANG ALL COME TO CLING AT HIM AND CRY OVER THEIR FRIEND WHO THOUGHT HE WAS WORTHLESS MOST OF THE MOVIE AND THOUGH THAT THE GANG THOUGHT THE SAME ABOUT HIM

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH

---

WELP, TIME TO COPE WITH INAPPROPRIATE HUMOR

Shaggy: I yelled at my dog, got him kidnapped, and ended up helping the bad guy to open the gates to Hell. Guess I’ll die.

Dee Dee: Well actually, this is more Dastardly’s fault because -

Shaggy, yelling as he slams his hand against the lock: GUESS I’LL DIE!!!

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Ah, so the writers wrote themselves into a corner, and the only way out was a Deus Ex Machina (at least, I think I’m using that term correctly…)

Because to get Shaggy back, a giant statue of Alexander the Great and Peritas appears out of nowhere - literally, since it definitely wasn’t there before - with an inscription Scooby has to read to get Shaggy back.

This would have been a lot more effective if we’d seen it when Dastardly arrived in Greece - maybe even as the marker for where the gate to the Underworld was. Have Alexander facing one way, and Peritas facing the other. You open the gate on Alexander’s side, and come home on Peritas’ side. Having this unfold into the gate gives it more purpose than “magically appears right the fcuk outta nowehere” and you could have a pun with the “backdoor” escape. Everybody wins!

And if that’s too good for ya, how about a brief lingering shot by it at some point as Dastardly flies into Greece, behind where the gate materializes, or directly across from it on the plaza? Maybe have one of the gang kick it after Shaggy leaves, and say ‘This is all your fault! Why would you make something like this?’

It’d still be a magical contrivance, but at least it would make some fcuking SENSE.

(Granted it DID lead to this hilariously ominous shot, so maybe I shouldn’t complain:)

---

Velma: I finally figured out what you guys are! You’re the heart of Mystery Inc.

Me: YEAH BABY! *flips over table* I’VE BEEN SAYING THAT SHIT FOR YEARS AND NOW, I’M FCUKING VALIDATED AT LAAAAAAAAST!

----

Shaggy: *rips off Dastardly’s face to reveal…*

ALL: SIMON COWELL??!?

Me, choking on food: I’m sorry WHAT?!?!?

Velma: *takes off mask again to reveal*

ALL: DICK DASTARDLY?!?

Dastardly: Drat! No one ever goes for the double unmasking.

So I was right all along - Simon Cowell truly was a Dick this entire time.

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And so we close on the gang unveiling a Mystery Machine paint job on their official detective agency building, Brian Falcon living the good life as the DJ at their party, the Falcon team gifting a sleek new Mystery Machine to the gang (which honestly looks pretty unique - it’s not the classic, but it is something new that isn’t awful, so kudos there), and the gang on their way to another mystery.

So, at the end of the day is this a good Scooby movie?

Meh? *waves hand in meh motion* But it definitely had its moments.

This Scooby film is flawed as heck, no doubt about it - the plot has a MAJOR problem with telling instead of showing, some parts feeling out of order or WAY too short, and of course the deus ex machina ending. I honestly would have loved some more time for their first mystery as kids, where we actually got more character moments/bonding from Fred, Daphne, and Velma as they solved it the more traditional route, as well as not framing FD&V as super duper mystery solvers right off the bat???

The stuff with Blue Falcon isn’t AWFUL, per se, but it is ridiculously satisfying to see him get smacked around. Captain Caveman was honestly one of the funniest bits in the movie, same with Dynomutt.

As far as the character stuff? It all felt fairly natural, progression-wise. Shag and Scoob don’t have this big break-up with the gang - they’re hurt by the literal Dickhead’s comments the gang don’t speak up against, and go to blow off some steam together. Shag and Scoob don’t have this giant blow-up argument - it builds over the film into a hurt spat they both recognize they overreacted to almost immediately. The gang (FDV) go looking for them almost as soon as they leave, and, upon hearing they’re in danger, turn and head towards them to save them, realizing how important the two are to Mystery Inc along the way. They defend each other, help each other, have some of the Best Dang Animated Mystery Inc hugs I ever did see - THIS feels more like the Gang I’ve been waiting for forever to come back to DTV (and in a rough sense, did). While I do wish we’d gotten more screen time of FD&V, what we got wasn’t too bad.

Weirdly enough, at the end of the day, I’ve actually grown more accustomed to Forte’s Shaggy - it feels like it fits this different style a touch more than I originally thought, and holy hell if I didn’t come close to tears at that ending gate scene, he knocked that one out of the park. Velma still doesn’t feel much like Velma, but I did get used to it by the end. I kept cracking up at Efron’s Fred, and no complaints on Seyfried’s Daphne.

Jason Isaacs as Dick Dastardly absolutely killed it. Blue Falcon Crew was okay (excepting Mark “The Racist” Wahlburg - it was just him talking, no real effort. You could recognize Wahlburg right off the bat, acting as a goofy douche) and freaking Captain Caveman was awesome. Apparently they combined both Billy West and Don Messick’s recordings for Muttley (awesome!!!), so this may very well be Don Messick’s final role in a Scooby Doo film.

It got off to a rough start, but ended well enough. The animation was solid, the writing has some unexpectedly clever and funny moments sprinkled throughout, with some pretty fun action sequences on the side. Watching this, I really do believe that the people working on it love Scooby Doo and all things Hanna-Barbera… at least in their own way.

I ended up buying this instead of just renting it ($5 more, why not) and I am honestly glad I did so. Despite its flaws, it has some great moments with the gang as friends, and I have been Craving That Shit for DECADES

And if these writers/directors ever did another Scooby film? I think I’d be up for giving them a chance - at least so long as we got some more absolutely BEAUTIFUL hugs with the gang

I hope you enjoyed this stream-of-consciousness reaction to SCOOB! (2020)... a whole ass year LATER, admittedly (I didn’t switch my Save Post to Queue, curse my hubris), but hopefully y’all’ve been entertained. Good night everybody!

#scoob!#scoob 2020 #scoob #scooby doo #plush reviews: final thoughts #note to self: never use queue for the big posts

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