#(but you guys really robbed me from 'actually looking like he spent the last 9 months underfed in the desert' Cloud smh.)
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gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies
written for @397bartonstreet for the @b99fandomevents summer fic exchange for the prompt peraltiago + pda!! i hope you like it!!
read on ao3
The first night Jake and Amy spend out of the cozy confines of their apartment after he comes home is magical - filled with salty ocean air and warm breezes and plentiful food and wine supplied by Charles.
It’s one of those end-of-summer nights that you appreciate all the more for the finality of it all, knowing that there are a limited number of evenings like this left before the air gets colder and the leaves begin to turn brown.
It’s the kind of night Amy would have loved at any time of her life, regardless of the circumstances, but it’s made so much better by the company - comprised of her closest friends and, more importantly, her fresh-out-of-prison boyfriend.
Amy hasn’t been able to pry herself away from him unless absolutely necessary since she greeted him at JFK two weeks ago. She’s soaking up every glorious moment of being with Jake, every kiss and hug and joke that she’s been robbed of for the past few months.
It was only an invitation to Charles’ beach house - his ex-wife gave him a few extra months with it after she bought a condo in Florida for the winter - that persuaded them to leave the city for the night and spend time with the squad.
This is how she finds herself curled up into Jake’s side on the back deck overlooking the ocean, absorbed in pure happiness.
His arm is wrapped around her, the other stroking her legs that are tucked into his lap, and her head is resting in the crook of his neck. Periodically, she’ll reach up to run her fingers through his hair or kiss his jaw and cheek. A different, younger version of herself would’ve thought this to be too much PDA, especially in front of their colleagues (not Holt, thankfully, as he and Kevin had tickets to the Opera), but every day she’s spent apart from the love of her life has stripped away her concern for social etiquette a little more.
There’s been a few borderline-creepy comments from Charles or raised eyebrows from the rest of the group, but for the most part, everyone else seems to be giving them the same free pass to be as abhorrently cheesy as they desire.
Her cheeks are hot from the tequila shots Rosa keeps pouring, a common occurrence in the few days since her breakup with Pimento. Amy got drunk with her at Shaw’s as per their post-breakup tradition (the end of her relationship with Adrian earned them more shots than Marcus and Teddy combined) but still returned home to Jake by 9:30. Needless to say, Rosa understood.
Her insides feel equally warm each time Jake whispers a sweet nothing in her ear, always accompanied by a kiss to her temple.
He cracks a joke - something stupid and dorky which she only heard in fragments over the music and chatter - which makes the rest of the group erupt in laughter. It’s so familiar that Amy can’t resist angling her head to look up at her boyfriend’s crooked grin and wide eyes, finally starting to regain some of their sparkle. She thinks she could gaze at him for years without getting bored. She’s not sure how long actually passes - probably at least five minutes, but it could be hours - before he notices her eyes lingering on his face and looks back at her.
He raises an eyebrow almost imperceptibly, a silent “are you okay?” that’s become part of their secret language, to which she nods and smiles. He leans in for a kiss, which she sinks into wholeheartedly. When he begins to pull away, Amy grabs his face to anchor herself and kisses him harder, moaning softly as his tongue slips into her mouth, and-
“Ahem.”
Amy pulls away from Jake quickly, nearly falling out of her chair in surprise at the loud noise. All eyes are on them, and Gina’s arms are crossed.
“Okay, lovebirds - I get it. We all totally get it. We’re all very happy you two are reunited and super in love and all that crap. But you literally have a bedroom,” Gina gestures to the house, “less than twenty feet away.”
“We wanted to hang out with everyone!” Jake says defensively. “We haven’t even been that bad.”
“Amy’s been staring at you for the past twenty minutes straight, and you guys haven’t let go of each other since we got here,” Rosa adds. “I’m pretty sure you went to the bathroom together.”
“We both had to go!”
“Seriously guys, just do us all a favour and go hang out alone,” Terry says.
Like a flash, Charles stands up and darts into the house, arriving less than thirty seconds later with a blanket, an unopened bottle of wine, and a wide-eyed grin that can only mean he’s about to get way too involved in their relationship.
Jake, who knows this look as well as Amy does, makes a last-ditch attempt to stop this before it begins. “Charles-“
“Jake, take this stuff and Amy and your epic love for one another and get your butt down to that beach to watch the sunset or I will drag you there myself.”
Normally, they would both be far too stubborn to agree to a plan like this and remain with their friends out of spite, but they’re both still tired and weary from the months of long days and restless nights. Plus, having a few minutes to themselves sounds really good right now.
Amy manages to communicate this to him in a single glance, a testament to how well they truly know each other, and Jake takes her by the hand and reluctantly grabs the blanket and wine from Charles with the other.
“Have fun, you two!” Charles shouts as they embark on the path down to the water. “And do whatever you want, there’s nobody around for miles!”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Don’t ruin it, man!”
The beach is deserted for as far as they can see in either direction, so they walk for about five minutes until they’re sufficiently distanced from the house and lay the blanket down on the cool sand. It‘s still warm enough to be comfortable, but the cool breeze coming off the water as the waves crash against the shore is enough to send Amy right into Jake’s waiting arms (not that she needed an excuse, of course).
His arms automatically wrap around her, and she leans back against his chest so they both have an optimal view of the orange and pink hues over the horizon.
“Are we bad friends?” Jake murmurs in her ear.
Any shakes her head decisively, grabbing his hand where it rests on her ribcage and sliding their fingers together.
“No, I think we get at least another week or two of being this obnoxious.”
“We did kinda earn it,” he agrees.
Amy relishes the last moments of what has to have been the worst summer of her life with the best possible ending. She’s not sure she would’ve believed even a month ago that she would end up here so soon, holding her boyfriend close instead of an old hoodie or tear-stained picture frame.
“This view is amazing,” Amy sighs, leaning further into him.
“This one’s better,” Jake says, tilting her head slightly until their lips meet. “Too cheesy?”
“Nope,” Amy mumbles between kisses. “The perfect amount of cheese.”
“Mm, just like Sal’s-”
“Babe, can we not talk about pizza toppings while we’re making out?”
“Cool, cool, good rule.”
She turns her body so she’s hovering over him and presses a long, slow kiss to his lips, letting herself linger in his space when she pulls away.
“I love you so much,” she whispers, their noses still touching.
Jake’s hands run down her body, sending chills up her spine. “I love you so much, Ames.”
She kisses him again, with more force than before, and they continue kissing and laughing and cherishing every moment with each other while the waves crash on the beach. They don’t make it back to the house until well after the sun has disappeared over the horizon.
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Change Your Mind
Summary: Calum runs into an old flame
Word Count: 2.4k
And away, and away we go!
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“C’mon!” Calum laughed, grabbing her hand and breaking out into a run, the night air cool on his face.
“Cal, wait!” she laughed along with him, breathless as he dragged her along. “My legs aren’t as long as yours!”
“Here!” he said, an idea coming to him. He stopped in his tracks, crouching slightly. “Hop on.”
She jumped on his back, wrapping her legs over his hips and her arms around his neck.
“Aw!” Michael’s girlfriend, Amanda, mock-pouted at the blonde, swatting at his arm. “Why can’t you carry me like that?”
Michael side-stepped away from his girlfriend. “I can either hold you, or the baby. Which is it?”
“Don’t you dare drop my baby, Clifford. That’s precious cargo.”
“Your baby? Last I checked it was our baby.”
“Cutest boy this world has ever seen!” Y/N called out from her spot on Calum’s back.
“Hey!” Calum protested, loosening his hold on her legs like he was gonna drop her.
“Calum!” she shrieked.
He laughed as he tightened his grip. “Better watch yourself.”
“You wouldn’t really drop me, would you?” Her voice was a whisper by his ear.
He tilted his head to the side to flash her a grin. “Never, baby. I’ll always catch you.”
“Mmm, you better,” she warned, kissing at his cheek.
“Fuck, this is amazing isn’t it?” Amanda asked as she laid down in the grassy field. “It’s like the whole world is spread out before us.”
“Today, high school graduates. Tomorrow… who knows! We’ll make it up as we go!” Michael said with a grin.
“Tomorrow, London,” Calum came up with his answer. “We’re gonna be rockstars, Mike.”
In that moment, staring up at the night sky, the four friends’ futures never looked brighter or more tightly intertwined.
~Ten Years Later~
“Mike? You get one of these too?” Calum asked, flashing an envelope with their high school crest on it.
“Yup,” Michael responded, not tearing his eyes away from the screen and the video game he was playing with his son, Lincoln. “Can’t believe it’s already been ten years.”
“I can,” came Amanda’s slight scoff. “We got the time stamp to prove it, Mikey.” She ruffled both her husband’s and son’s hair with either of her hands.
“You say ‘time stamp’ I say ‘son.’”
“You say ‘son’ I say ‘winner’!” the ten year old boy gloated, rising to his feet for a victory dance.
“What?!” Michael stared at the screen in disbelief, setting his controller aside. “How in the?!”
“In yo face!” Lincoln continued to boast.
“Oh, yeah?” Michael asked before charging to tickle his son’s sides while the boy broke out into a high-pitched giggle.
“Mikey, stop. The boy can’t breathe. Look, he’s turning pink,” Amanda scolded.
Michael let go, looking over at his wife innocently. “So, did you wanna go to this reunion?”
“Yeah. I’d love to see Y/N again. She hasn’t seen Link since he was a baby. Oh! And we can finally meet her daughter!”
“Babe!” Michael hissed, but the damage was done.
“Y/N has a daughter?” Calum asked, body snapping to attention.
“Yeah…” his friends admitted.
“Hmm… good for her. How old?”
“Uh…”
“How old is she?” Calum repeated, gritting his teeth, his brown eyes darkening.
“Cal…” Michael started, keeping his voice low. “She made us swear not to tell you.”
“HOW OLD IS SHE?!” Calum barked, grabbing Michael by the front of his shirt. “TELL ME!”
“9! She’s 9!” The woman told him, her voice shaking.
Calum released Michael, slumping back like he had the wind knocked out of him. “9?” he croaked, tears springing to his eyes. “Is she…?” He pointed at himself
Michael nodded. “Yeah, mate. Look, this wasn’t how you were supposed to find out...”
“How the fuck was I supposed to find out then?! You two lied to me for 9 fuckin’ years! She lied to me!”
“I know! But we didn’t want to! We begged her to tell you. But she had convinced herself it wasn’t worth bothering you about. That she’d figure out a way to tell you. Mate, you gotta believe me. We wouldn’t have hidden this from you if we had a choice.”
Calum hung his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this… I can’t believe this is happening… I think I’m gonna be sick…”
“D- do you want to see pictures?”
The man nodded, and Michael fiddled around on his phone. “I saved all the pictures into an album. Here.”
Calum took the phone in shaking fingers, slowly scrolling through someone’s lifetime. His daughter’s lifetime. “Fuck… she looks just like Y/N…”
“Funny. Y/N says she looks like you.”
“Yeah, I can see it a little in her face. Are my cheeks really that squishy?”
“Yes,” was the laughed response.
Calum sighed, passing the phone back. “So, when do we leave?”
~~~
Calum spotted her the second he walked in the hotel ballroom, nostalgia hitting him like a tidal wave. Every promise whispered on skin they had broken with goodbye flashed in his head like a movie as he made his way to her. He didn’t know if he was more angry, or just flat out crushed. “What’s her name?” he asked once he was in earshot.
“Wow. That’s gotta be a record for the Cliffords. Never were the type to keep a secret.”
“Don’t deflect the blame on them. What’s her name?”
“Ari.”
“Why?”
“Cuz she needed a name.”
Calum breathed slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he rephrased.
“It wasn’t your business.”
“Wasn’t my business?! She’s my daughter, Y/N!”
“Lower your fuckin’ voice!” she snarled, looking around the room before gripping his upper arm and pushing him outside like a scolded toddler.
“I want to meet her.”
Y/N scoffed. “Yeah. Fat chance of that happening.”
“Oh, so you're just gonna keep me from her for the second half of her life, too?”
“Half of her life? She’s 9, Calum.”
“That’s halfway to 18.”
“Not everyone leaves their family at 18 like you did Cal! Some people actually stay!”
“Excuse me?! That’s why?! You kept my daughter from me out of spite?! Because I had the guts to make something of myself?! In case you didn’t notice, Mike had the same story we did, and he got to do it with his kid!”
“You think you’re the only one who could be somebody?! I’ve busted my ass for the last decade to forget about all the promises we broke! And I did it all while raising the reminder of everything we were, and everything we were too scared we could be!”
“We were supposed to be somebodies together!”
“You left me!”
“I didn’t do it on purpose! I had to do what was best for me!”
“I did too!”
“I’m never gonna forgive you for this…”
“Good thing I never asked you to.”
“Oh, I can’t believe you! Who are you protecting? Her? Or you? I’m not the bad guy here. You’re the one who made a huge ass decision about our lives without talking to me about it.”
“Kinda like you did?”
“When did I ever do something without talking about it with you first?! I asked you to come with me to London. You didn’t want to. I said let’s try to make it work. You didn’t want that either.”
“We didn’t talk through shit, Cal. You talked. But you always had your mind made up before you ever opened your mouth. And you still do.”
“Then you should know that I’ll do whatever it takes to meet her.”
“Fine. She has a soccer game in the morning. I guess you could come to that.”
“She plays soccer?”
“Of course she plays soccer. She’s yours, ain’t she? Memorial Park. 9am. Don’t you dare be late.”
“I’ll be there. And hey, you look good by the way.”
“Ew,” she scoffed, but even in the dim lighting he saw her cheeks pinken. “You look… alright I guess. Your curls always did suit you better in my opinion.”
~~~
Even if Calum hadn’t seen the pictures of Ari, he would have been able to pick her out of a crowd with her wild, dark curls held out of her face in a ponytail as she ran about the field. Calum and Y/N sat in tense, but not uncomfortable silence next to each other in the stands before Calum finally spoke up at the start of the second half. “You know you robbed me of 9 years worth of mornings like this?”
“5, actually. She’s been playing since she was 4.”
“Was talking about mornings spent watching our daughter, but I’m glad you agree with me.”
“I didn’t ‘rob’ you out of spite, Calum. I know you already made up your mind that I did. And if that’s what you’re determined to believe, I don’t particularly care all that much. Like I said last night, it’s not like I’m asking you to forgive me.”
“If you think my mind’s made up, then you shouldn’t see an issue with telling me why. Humor me.”
“It’s because we didn’t need you. And I don’t say that to hurt you.”
He scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me. Were you ever going to tell me?”
“I thought about it a lot. But the longer time went on, the harder it became. I mean, I didn’t find out I was pregnant until you were already gone. I was 18 and alone. Did I make mistakes along the way? Yeah, probably. But I did what I thought was best. And calling you up in tears so you could give up your dream of being a rockstar to rescue us wasn’t on that list. I didn’t want you to resent me more than you already did.”
“I couldn’t resent you if I tried. And trust me… I tried. You should’ve told me.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. But we didn’t need you, Cal. And you didn’t need us. And all three of us turned into the people we were supposed to be.”
“Agree to disagree. You may not have needed me, but maybe I needed you guys. And maybe the person I was supposed to be was supposed to be a dad to our daughter. And I may not be able to get these last nine years back, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get the next nine. And all the years after that.”
She shook her head, eyes rolling behind her sunglasses. “It’s not that simple, Cal. You can’t undo the damage we dealt with some inspiring words.”
“And who’s fault is that? Look, I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy. But I want to be in her life. You gotta trust me here.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Cal. It’s not like you ran away. I mean, you did. But I had my chance to go with you. And I had my chance to try and make it work. And I haven’t asked you to forgive me because I don’t deserve to be forgiven. I had our two best friends lie for me because I was too scared to confront you myself. And I lied to myself by saying I was doing it for your sake. So you could live your dream. I saw how hard it was for Amanda and Michael in the beginning. I wanted better for us. And I’m willing to admit that maybe I went about it the wrong way. But playing these maybe/maybe not scenarios isn’t going to change the past.”
“I’m not looking to change the past, Y/N. I just want to be in her future. Don’t you think I have that right?”
“Yes. And that breaks my heart, Cal.”
“How does th-?” he asked in confusion, before the realization hit. “Oh… Because you made up your mind that I just want her. That I’ll never be over what you did to even contemplate wanting you too. Guess I’ll just have to change your mind.”
She blinked, not believing she heard him correctly. “Y- you want me too?”
“How could I want my daughter, and not the woman who gave her to me? Yes, I want you too.”
“Cal…” she warned tearfully. “If you’re lying, I’ll never forgive you.”
“And if I’m telling the truth?”
“I just might have to kiss you.”
“Pucker up, sweetheart. Been waiting 10 years for this kiss, so you can bet it’ll be a long one.”
“Who are you, and why are you trying to kiss my mom?” a small voice demanded.
Y/N snickered into her hand while Calum took in the girl with her hands on her hips and a fiery look in her eyes. “Ari, sweetheart, this is my old friend, Calum.”
Ari looked Calum up and down skeptically, her hands coming off her hips so she could cross her arms over her chest. “That answers the first part of my question…”
“Ari!” Y/N gasped in shock.
“What? I’m not wrong. Now, why are you trying to kiss my mom, Calum?” She cocked her head to the side waiting for an answer.
“Because that’s what adults do when they love each other,” Calum answered, taking the path of least resistance.
“No… when adults love each other they have se-”
Y/N’s eyes went wide as her hand flashed out to cover Ari’s mouth, pulling the girl towards her. “That’s enough out of you. Would you behave? Please?”
The girl huffed, rolling her eyes. “Fmm!” was the muffled response. She huffed again when her mouth was uncovered, hands brushing down the front of her jersey with unnecessary sass. “So, you love my mom?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
“Good. Because she loves you, too.”
“Oh, does she?” Calum asked with a smirk. “And how do you feel about me?”
“Mmmm… you’re alright I guess. As long as you don’t try to kiss my mom in front of me again.”
“Ari?” Y/N asked softly.
“What?! That was nice!”
“Get your stuff. I’ll meet you at the car.”
“Ew! You are gonna kiss him!” the girl squealed with a shudder, before running off to get her things.
“So, where were we?” Calum asked, rising to feet and closing the distance between him and Y/N.
“Right about here,” she breathed, stretching up on her toes to greet his lips.
“Ari! Who’s that kissing your mom?!” one of Ari’s teammates asked her as they giggled into their hands.
Both Y/N and Calum could hear the eye roll in their daughter’s voice as she answered with a sigh, “Oh, that’s just my dad.”
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Tag List
@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @boomerash @teenwolfss24 @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @cashtonisruiningmylife @another-lonely-heart
#change your mind#calum hood#calum hood fic#5sos#the finished product of that random 4am dream/thought#galcal irwin
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Seeing Red Chapter 4
Title: Seeing Red
Master List
Pairing: Jason Todd x Stella Covington (OC)
Warnings: Cursing, major character death, a little bit angsty, fluff.
Summary: As Stella's surrogate big brother, Dick freaks out when he hears about her encounter with The Red Hood. Stella seems to have a secret admirer.
Chapter 4: Valentine's Day
After cleaning the puppy and giving him some food, Stella sat on the floor watching the pup run circles around her room. He would spend a second sniffing around, and then instantly take off to another part of the room. Everything was fascinating to him. Stella laughed when he started to bark at a stool.
At first, Stella was going to drop him off at a shelter. She didn't feel she was ready to take care of something alive at the moment. But after spending a few hours with him, she fell in love. After deciding her new pup was in need of supplies, Stella went on a shopping spree. A few hours later, the brown pup had a new collar, new bowls, some shirts, and even matching booties.
She watched the puppy climb onto the table in the middle of her room and sniff the crackers sitting on the edge. She pulled the puppy away before it was able to snag one of them. She brought it up to her face and it licked her nose and wagged its tail.
Once she placed him back onto the floor, he went straight for the crackers once again. Stella laughed at his attempts to get the crackers on the table. She was very impressed by his ambition and his energy.
“With all that energy I think i’m going to name you Latte.“ The puppy looked up when she said the name and wagged his tail. Stella smiles. “You like that don’t you? It’s official Latte. Welcome to your new home!” She threw out her hands and spun in a happy circle. Latte danced happily around her.
Unbeknownst to Stella, she was currently being watched.
Jason was two buildings over with a pair of high tech binoculars. He had to make sure she made it home okay. Something about seeing her in potential danger triggered his protective instincts. Jason put down the binoculars and looks down at his watch. He was already late for his meeting, but it didn't matter. Making sure Stella was safe was more important than some stupid hidden meeting with a bunch of drug lords.
He picked up the binoculars one last time and watched as the dog ran around in circles. Stella has a smile painted on her face the entire time. He could practically hear her laughs from where he was. The longer he watched her, the more Jason’s heart ached. He watched her pull out her phone and laugh at something on her phone. A text maybe? Who was it from? Her lover? Tomorrow was Valentine's Day. Has she moved on already? He put the binoculars away and turns away from her building. He didn't want to know. The more he knew the more his heart hurt. He took a deep breath and hopped onto the fire escape.
That night Stella fell asleep earlier then usual with Latte cuddled up against her chest.
—————————
Stella woke up to a flurry of text messages. She blinked open her eyes and lazily reached for her phone. It was 2am. There were 9 Messages from Dick, and six missed calls.
Stella opened the messages.
Are you serious?
What did he do?
Where are you?
Stella are you okay?
Did he hurt you?
Shit. Sorry I didn’t check my phone earlier.
Stella!?!
Stella?!
STELLA?!?!?!
Stella texted back immediately. 'Im fine Dick. He saved me actually. From some creep trying to steal my purse.' Stella stared at the phone for a few moments before a call from Dick came through.
“Oh thank god Stell! I was on my way to your penthouse! You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you did he?” Stella had to pull the phone away from her ear. He was basically screaming into his phone.
“Hi Dickie. I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me. He stopped a guy from robbing me. Not much of a talker. He seemed nice.”
There was a pause on Dick’s end. Before he could say anything, Stella remembered the small creature snoring next to her.
“Oh yeah! I have a puppy now. His name is Latte. I found him on the street all alone. That’s where I met the Red Hood.”
Dick’s voice dropped. “You should be more careful Stella. He’s dangerous. We still don’t know what he is capable of.”
Stella frowned at his words. He didn’t seem dangerous. He was alone with her in that alley way. If he really wanted to he could have hurt her.
But, he didn’t.
“Okay, I will.”
In the back, Stella could hear some shouts and some sounds of gunfire. “Gotta go. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye Dick!” She managed to say before the call dropped. She looked down at Latte who managed to stay asleep throughout that entire phone call. His small belly rising and falling from each breath he took. Stella bent over to kiss him on the head. He moved slightly, but did not wake. She brought her head to her pillow, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
That night she dreamt of puppies, coffee, and a man in a red hood.
———————
“Isn’t he just the cutest thing.” Stella said as she walked through the doors of the manor. She brought the pup up to Alfred’s face and Latte did not hesitate to lick his nose. Alfred smiled at the tiny creature and patted his head.
“He is quite adorable.”
Stella handed Alfred the dog while she took her shoes and coat off at the door. “Where’s Dick? I texted him the information for his date tonight. He never wrote back.”
“I’m afraid he is rather incapacitated at the moment, but rest assured he is fine. He managed to sprain his leg during patrol last night. I gave him a few sleeping pills so he could rest. He should be awake by now.”
Stella looked worried. “Are you sure he’s okay? Can I see him?”
“Of course. He’s in his room.” Alfred handed Stella back Latte and she proceeded to make her way up the stairs towards Dick’s room. The manor was eerily silent. Stella could hear her steps echo through the manor walls.
Stella knocked gently on Dick’s door. “Dick?”
“Come in!” Dick said with a cheery voice. He sounded okay. Stella let out a sigh of relief.
She opened the door to reveal Dick sitting in bed. He was in a plain blue t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. On his right leg sat a large array of bandages. A pair of crutches leaned against the side of the bed. He was playing some sort of video game on his phone, he looks up when he hears the door open.
“Hey baby bird!” He said smiling even wider.
“Hey Dickie. You okay? Alfred told me you got hurt last night.” Stella said taking a seat on the bed. She brought her legs up and crossed them together, tucking Latte into her arms.
Dick nods. “Yeah i’m okay. I’ll be out of commission for the next few weeks, but i’m good. Ran into The Hood last night. He did quite a bit of damage to the city. Bruce and Tim will be pretty busy for the next few days.” Dick looked down at the small furry ball in Stella’s arms. “Is this the little guy?” He said extending his arms towards the puppy.
Latte immediately tried to wriggle out of Stella’s arms. She let him go and he went straight into Dick’s lap, jumping up onto his chest. Stella smiled as Dick began laughing and playing with the pup.
“Glad you’re okay. I-I got kind of scared when you didn’t answer my text.”
Dick rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about that. I saw the reservation. Thank you so much. I already sent the info to Barbara. She’s coming over tonight.”
Stella giggled and clapped. “Oh I’m so excited for you two. I have always wanted to try their Valentines day fixed menu. But I never got the chance.” She shrugs, her mood dropping slightly. Latte senses Stella’s sadness, and makes his way over to her. He climbs onto her lap and wags his tail.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? I’m sure Barbara won’t mind.”
“No way! You two barely have enough time alone together as is. Just go. I’ll hang out with Alfred tonight. Plus, who’s gonna hang out with this little guy if I leave tonight.” Latte perked up at the mention of his name. He jumped onto Stella’s stomach and licked her face. She looked down at her phone. It was nearing 4:30pm.
“You should start getting ready. Babs will be here soon.” She said as she placed Latte onto the floor. He immediately began sniffing the floor, and ran out the door to explore the rest of the manor. “See you later Dick! Let me know how the food is.” She said, running out the room to chase after the little puppy.
Dick watched her exit the room. He didn’t get the chance to bring up her meeting with The Red Hood. He got up from the bed and placed the crutches under his arms.
He just prayed that Stella wouldn’t end up getting hurt by the masked man.
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Once Dick and Barbara left for their reservation, Stella and Alfred spent the entire night baking cookies and making cupcakes. Each baked good was decorated with flowers and hearts.
“And done!” Stella said as she placed a chocolate heart on top of a pink frosted cupcake. The kitchen was covered in baked goods. Dozens of boxes lined the tables. Stella plans was to to stop by the soup kitchen on her way home to hand out the treats.
“Beautiful as always Miss Stella.” Alfred smiled down at her. Stella cradled a single cupcake in her hands.
“I think I’ll give this one to Jay.” She said as she jumped off her chair. “Be right back!” She opened the door to the backyard and made her way towards Jason’s gravestone. The sun was just beginning to set. Stella shivered as the temperature was beginning to drop with the setting sun. She quickly ran to the gravestone and placed the cupcake in front of it.
“Happy Valentines Day Jay. It’s chocolate, your favorite.” She smiled down at the grave. After a few moments her face dropped as a familiar feeling of pain rocked her heart. Tears pricked her eyes. She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “Miss you Jay.” She whispers. She gently wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and heads back to the kitchen.
Alfred was cleaning up when she got back. The cupcakes and cookies were perfectly packed inside various sized boxes. She looks down at her watch and saw that it was getting late.
“Hey Alfred, I’m gonna head out.”
Alfred turns to look at her. “Okay. Let’s start getting the boxes to your car.”
It took a few trips, but they managed to get every single cake and cookie safely into the back of Stella’s Porsche. She placed a sleeping Latte into the passenger seat inside his carseat. She ran up the steps and gave Alfred a hug before thanking him and waving goodbye.
It took 10 minutes to get to the soup kitchen. Stella regularly stopped by, so she was greeted with warm smiles. She was inside the office speaking with the workers when she feels someone tap her shoulder. She turns around to face a young man.
“Someone left this for you.” The young man said.
In his hand was a single red rose with a note attached and a cute coffee shaped dog plushie. Stella tilted her head in confusion.
“It was on the hood of your car.”
Stella took the rose and plushie from him. She opened the small card attached to the rose.
Happy Valentine's Day Stella. ~RH
Stella looked down with confusion at the rose. RH? Who could that be? She began going over about all the boys she had class with and the ones Dick had introduced her to. No one with the initials RH came to her mind. She shook her head and came back to reality.
“Thank you.” She said to the young man.
Stella said her goodbyes to the team and made her way back to her car. Latte was happily waiting for her in his seat. She handed him the coffee plushie and he immediately started chewing on it. She smiled down at the dog and got into the drivers seat. She looked down at the rose in her lap. Her mind wandered as she drove home.
Who was RH?
#Red Hood#jason todd/original female character#Stella Covington#jason todd x oc#DCU#batman#original female character#alternature universe#AU#Dick Grayson#DC#Under the Red Hood#iwritethings#fanfiction#seeing red#nightwing
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Episode Three
First of all...what the fuck was that challenge. And what the fuck was the logic to judging it?! I spent so much of this episode just being confused. I think it would have been so much better if they were allowed to come up with their own ideas and characters, instead of having this really narrow space to work in; that was bizarre to me. Like Just Jan could have done a really delusional, high energy character who was the worst singer in the world; that would have been funny! Instead they stuck them with these bizarre storylines that made no sense, and had very little humour in them. Idk whose choice that was but it was a choice. Anyway, let's get into the rundown!
1. Aiden Zhane
I am not living for Aiden at all. Her attitude in both episodes has let a lot to be desired for me. And also, that runway? What was that? I could buy that dress on Asos, glue some bows to it and have that look. The concept was cool, the bows falling on her? Cool idea. But if you're going to do that then you need to Do It, yknow? Like it would have been cool if she'd had a huge wig completely made of bows. Or if she'd had an umbrella and made it look like it was raining bows, or something, that could have been really cool! It could have been amazing and she took a really easy way out. Disappointing. And her performance was dull. She deserved to be in the bottom more than Nicky Doll.
The only thing I will say for Aiden in this episode is the way Brita and Redacted behaved towards her was really uncool. They did that whole "you didnt lead us at all", and then told her that they carried her? You know that if she had led them they would have totally thrown her under the bus and said "well we do this professionally and we wanted to do this, but she was the leader and she made us do that". It was totally a damned if you, damned if you don't; and that was really unfair.
2. Brita
Guys, I am Bored of Brita. I am over it, and I am underwhelmed. I haven't seen anything from her that I've enjoyed! Her looks have been dull, she's not that funny, and I dont like the way she behaves (like I said with Aiden). She wont be next to go home, but hopefully she wont be long.
3. Crystal Methyd
STOP TRYING TO CHANGE CRYSTAL METHYD! I'm so sick of them going "oh her makeup is always the same", when it has been different each time!! She has a style and a brand, but it's not the same face!! Aiden Zhane does the same fucking face, none of them have picked that out! Loads of queens come in and they only have one face! Not mentioning any names Silky Nutmeg Ganache and Roxxxy Andrews. They got away with it because they were beauty mugs and that's the type of drag this show is biased towards. Crystal Methyd is an artist, let her do herself! That runway look was ugly though. Having said all that. Her face was gorgeous, I loved her makeup, I just thought that look wasnt very her! It didn't suit her somehow, it wasn't right. But she tried really hard during the improv, and I think she did a passable job! She honestly should have been safe, fight me. I just really hope she doesn't change herself to please the judges bc she has such a great vision and point of view, and I don't want her to lose sight of how great she is.
4. Dahlia Sin
Dahlia, Dahlia, Dahlia. Speaking of being underwhelmed, am I right? I had such high hopes for Dahlia, but this week she just didn't pull anything out. I personally think the fruit sketch was really funny, but it would have been exactly the same if Dahlia hadn't been in the group. She was so focused on being ~sexy~ (which is tough in a broccoli costume), that she forgot about everything else. Plus her bows and buttons look was just...odd. from the neck up it had this very avant garde, couture feel, but the outfit itself just looked unfinished. And then to have this weird arse peekaboo thing? Really weird choice. She deserved to be in the bottom and, after that lip sync, she deserved to go home.
I have seen a lot of posts about Dahlia "storming out", and I genuinely don't understand what they're talking about? Like, okay, she didn't say anything before she walked off, does that really constitute storming off? If she'd walked off while Ru was still talking, or if she'd yelled/screamed/sworn, then sure, maybe - but from what I saw she was just upset and wanted to leave as fast as possible. Idk, also they haven't released Untucked on the UK Netflix, so maybe there was more I didnt see.
5. Gigi Goode
I live for Gigi so much. I mean come on! Her character in the improv was passed out half the time and still had presence! She's so funny, and she's not afraid to let loose and get ugly. I think she did a good job in the improv, especially for someone without all that much experience, and her look on the runway was incredible. Solid 8/10 for Gigi this week.
6. Heidi N Closet
Heidi was robbed. I bought everything Heidi was selling this week. I bought it, I didn't stream it, I didn't rent it from the Netflix, I bought it. She was so funny during the challenge; the flipper? She spat out? Iconic. She had me dying the whole time, her, Jackie Cox and Gigi Goode should have their own series, I'd watch the hell out of it. Then she came bouncing down the runway as glitter Pinnochio, and she told that story about when she was at school and I loved every second! Shes so charming, and loveable, and relatable, and Jaida Essence Hall must have been gagged when she was top 2. She was robbed, she should have won, and she should keep her name! That whole thing with "the mouth has to change shape and it's not satisfying to say"? Bullshit, utter bullshit bitch. Heidi N Closet 4lyf.
7. Jackie Cox
Jackie made me so happy this week! Their whole group was hilarious, but Jackie doing the bad ventriloquist act just sent me, I loved it. And she just seems like the sweetest person as well! Her runway look was gorgeous, I loved the reference, her makeup was absolutely stunning, Jackie Cox is seriously the whole package. Her and Heidi should have been top 2 together.
8. Jaida Essence Hall
Jaida came in looking like a pageant queen, but she seriously flexed her comedy muscles this week! Her "bad apple" was hilarious, and she really committed to it! She was a firm leader in the group, but she was a good team player in the scene, she let everyone else have their moment too, and it was a good performance! I was a little bit disappointed that her runway look was very very similar to her spring mini challenge look from last week, but it was still a good look, and honestly I probably wouldnt have noticed if it hadn't been one episode after the other. She has shown a lot of diversity already, I think she just set the bar so high last week that I was really expecting something incredible, and I got something that was "just" good instead. She's still one to beat at the moment!
9. Jan
Jan made me so proud this week!! She was really funny in the skit, she had so much energy and enthusiasm, I loved it! Her jokes were funny, she picked a solid character and played it well, and can we talk about the runway though??? I really expected her to come out in something cute, because her personality is so bubbly and instead she gave me horror high fashion, monster couture and she Sold. Every. Second. It was a total transformation from the challenge to the runway and that, at the heart of it, is what I love about drag; that transformation aspect is just art to me. For me, Jan has it all. She definitely should have been top 3 this week. I think she's served the best runways so far, and I cannot wait to see what she does next week.
10. Nicky Doll
Okay, you guys know I love Nicky Doll. This week was not a good week for her. I appreciate that improv must be so hard in your second language, but I think she suffered a little bit from Dahlia Syndrome: she was so focused on staying pretty that she didn't really deliver anything. I kind of wish her character had literally just been French and spoke no English - part of the joke could have been that language barrier and Crystal/Window not understanding a word she said and her getting more and more frustrated about it. That could have been really funny. Also, her runway look...I know where she was going with it, it was a cool concept, and it was executed okay, there was just something missing, you know? It felt a little bit rushed, and again there was this real focus on being ~pretty~. Maybe if she'd looked a little more Cinderella ish, like her makeup wasn't perfect, and her hair was tied up like she was actually sewing, it would have sold me a little more character. I'm not sure, everything was just a little off for me this week, but I still think she's fierce af, and we all stumble sometimes. I'm looking forward to seeing her get back on her feet next week!
11. Rock M Sakura
Rock M was picked last for the challenge, I could not believe it. She deserved better than that, I was shook. She definitely picked the right group though, she was really funny as the Orange! She looked like she was having fun, and that's what I love about Rock M, is that I have fun watching her have fun. Her jokes were great, she matched Jan's energy, and I think she did a good job. I loved her runway look as well, the Alice in Wonderland concept was great, and I love that she kept the dress pretty simple so that the focus was on her hair and makeup! Her makeup was gorgeous, and the detail of the buttons on her face was stunning! It was a great concept, well executed, this week was a great week for Rock M, and I'm going to be furious if she gets picked last again.
12. Widow Von Du
Widow is getting The Edit. The edit that queens of colour who are talented get, where they paint them as bitchy, or loud, or as stepping on the other girls' toes; so that the audience isn't too pussed off when they get eliminated. Widow is exceedingly talented, and funny, and filled with personality. She also serves looks and delivers incredible performances. I will not let this edit take that away from her. She did great this week. She delivered everything I ordered in the challenge and more, she completely transformed for the runway, and she sold me a great presentation. Widow is definitely one to beat.
#rpdr spoilers#rpdr12 spoilers#rpdr12#season 12#drag race season 12#aiden zhane#Brita#crystal methyd#dahlia sin#gigi goode#heidi n closet#jackie cox#jaida essence hall#jan sport#just jan#nicky doll#rock m sakura#widow von du
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s15e02
I just spent 20 minutes scrolling Tumblt because I didn't want to keep watching, but I can squeeze one more episode before I have to go to sleep so I'm forcibg myself to get through this one too
I typed this during the flashbacks instead of watching them but I feel like I remember pretty well what just happened so it's fine
*****
a woman is hiding in her scarf?
Covid masking pre-Covid
episode just lagged and won't load anymore
it's been two minutes
welp
alright it's back
"Do you think they'll cancel the spelling bee?" woman, this isn't Rob
this demon/spirit/whatever can spell!
*****
I made the mistake of looking at the cast names on the bottom of the screen and.. OSRIC?? HOW?!
*****
So Dean just shot Jack the Ripper?!
I profoundly hate this story line
*****
Rowena! perhaps she can save this plot som--nope, she annoys me already
KETCH? what the fuck
what is this between Ketch and Rowena for fuck's sake can we not have a single woman who isn't sleeping with the guys???
*****
GOD AND AMARA? AGAIN?
fuck man, could this ge-- THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT GAME OF THRONES?
this show fucking sucks, who the hell approved anything beyond season 9 😑
a fucking Amazon joke?!
and Rowena asking Dean about Ketch 🤮
youtube
*****
Cas is trying so damn hard, but Dean's hurt and angry
but so is Cas, and Dean needs to understand that
Cas' little squints, and his never breaking eye contact 💙
"Nothing about our lives is real."
*****
"The enemy's actually... God."
indeed, Ketch, indeed
OH COME ON fuck that don't go flirting with Rowena
KEVIN
ghost!Kevin !!!
Kevin's been in Hell this whole time?!?!?!?!?! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
fuck no this isn't in my Good!natural story, fuck that
Kevin's in Heaven and this is shit
*****
I don't want to keep looking at Chuck's story
waste of time
I don't care about him
*****
I feel like Sam and Chuck are still connected, like Harry and Voldemort were
how is there still 17 minutes left to this episode seriously?!
*****
can we fkg cut down the disgusting whatever this is between Ketch and Rowena thaannnnk you
*****
it really sucks because I like Ruth, I just can't fucking stand Rowena
she fucking dated Jack the Ripper?!
*****
and now he's in Ketch
and Dean called the thing a "soul catcher"
*****
Belphegor's so chill, I aspire to be as fucking relaxed in life
also, Dean shot Ketch
youtube
*****
I get that Cas is there because he was with them, but it really feels like he's useless, there's no point in him being there
and that sucks!
I miss angel Cas so much
*****
This show is so bad, but I can't just stop watching now, I have to make it through the last 18 episodes
*****
Kevin's not going back to Hell, so he'll just stay on Earth
youtube
*****
Belphegor's my spirit animal
"Would you come on already?!" same bro, I am also tired (of waiting)
*****
ooh is something happening with Amara?
Oh she is going to refuse to help him, right?
Fuck yes, bad bitch energy coming from Amara, we stan a woman telling God "no"
youtube
*****
this is exactly like the attack of Hogwarts, with the death eaters attacking the shield until it breaks
*****
alright, that is enough for today
maybe I can keep this rhythm up (two episodes a day) and finish in the next week
hopefully
🤷🏽♀️
will I survive this atrocious last season or will my sanity (what's left of it) completely leave me?
stay tuned in to find out!
#s15e02#spn s15e02#supernatural#supernatural rewatch#spn rewatch#spn#season 15#spn season 15#april 7#raising hell#cas#castiel#belphegor#rowena#jack the ripper#ketch#belphegor!jack#demon!jack#arthur ketch#deancas#destiel#dean and cas#what about all of this is real?#we are#ghost!kevin#soul catcher#amara#chuck#god
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little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 13 of 29)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 part 22 part 23 part 24 part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29
Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Paul and Gene go to the temple of mammon, Studio 54.
“You look,” Gene said, throat drier than sandpaper, “really good.”
Good was an understatement. Paul looked hot. The light blue of the dress made a good contrast against his still-suntanned skin. The neckline made up for the dress length, providing more cleavage than Gene had seen out of Paul since he’d first met him on the front porch in the bathrobe. The heels accentuated his legs—even as a guy, Paul had always had nice legs—but for maybe the first time in three days, Gene was paying more attention to Paul’s face than his body.
It wasn’t like he’d done anything wild with makeup. Blush, red lipstick, eyeshadow, mascara. Except for the eyeliner maybe being a bit heavier, it was about the same look as the night prior. But Paul seemed happier. Relaxed. There wasn’t that tightness to his jaw anymore or that tension to his mouth. And that was a surprise, given the stilted way their dancing earlier had ended. Gene thought Paul might have been sore or tetchy, or at least awkward, but he’d just carried right on. Those sad brown eyes of his didn’t look sad at all, for once, and if Gene were sentimental, he would almost have said they were sparkling.
Maybe he’d just liked sharing a few dances with Gene. And maybe tonight really was the night that this would all be over. Every bit of it. Back to normal life for them both, touring and signing and interviewing. Back to life a hotel room away from each other. He’d be stupid to regret the change. Just stupid.
“You’re not half so bad yourself, Gene.” Paul crooked his head as if he hadn’t seen variations of his outfit at least a dozen times over just this year. As if he hadn’t been suggesting half of it while Gene had asked for the clothes to be sent over. Black leather everything, including the pants—something he already was regretting bitterly. Silver accessories. A belt with a spider encased in enamel as the buckle plate. The public demanded a monster movie out of Gene even when he got off the stage.
“That’s generous.” The limo was already idling in Paul’s driveway. “You ready?”
It took a few seconds for Paul to answer. He wasn’t looking at Gene, at least, not directly in the face; it almost seemed as though Paul was scoping him out, assessing him like there was something new to assess. Gene would have called him out on it, except during times like this, he never was sure if it was Paul’s hearing or Paul’s daydreaming to blame.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
The limo ride was uneventful. Gene decided he didn’t care for Studio 54 long before they pulled up to the VIP entrance. He decided that through the line wrapping around the building for what seemed like miles, the garish outfits of the wannabes begging for admittance, and the weird air of desperation mixed with eagerness that seemed to permeate through the limo windowpane. It made him feel itchy. Beside him, Paul had spent a bit of time doodling peace signs and dicks in the misted-up windowglass like it was a school notebook. His good mood didn’t seem to dampen until the limousine stopped, and he saw the press, out there already, all cameras and notepads.
“Gene—”
“It’s fine, I’ve got my bandana.” He’d forgotten to ask for it over the phone, but it’d been in the box of clothes for him anyway. A couple of them, actually. “Do you want one?”
Paul shook his head.
“No, it’s okay. Switch spots with me, would you?”
Gene swapped obligingly. The limo wasn’t roomy enough to avoid Paul brushing up against him as they traded seats. He caught the woodsy scent of Aramis cologne in Paul’s hair, just another indication of what he’d spent three days pounding into his head now.
“Want me to hold the door for you, too?”
“God, no.”
Gene laughed, and got out first. The bandanas always made him feel like he was about to rob a bank. Every so often, they’d get goofy with it, find weird headgear—knight and astronaut and football helmets—but for the most part, bandanas and scarves were enough out in public, real public. Places where they wanted to be seen, under normal circumstances. The first half-dozen camera flashes were blinding as always. He helped Paul out of the limo, hovering over him as he stepped out. Part of him wished he’d thought to bring a jacket, but maybe that would’ve made it worse, provoked the paparazzi more, if he’d tried covering Paul up too much.
“You okay?” he asked, as the crowd shuddered and swarmed around them. A horde, just a horde, worse than the CBGB crowd ever considered being. Fans would want an autograph or a lay. The press only ever wanted blood.
“I’m fine, I’m—”
“Mr. Simmons!” A woman reporter called out, touching his free arm. “Can I have just a moment?”
“No,” he said, brushing past, his hold on Paul’s arm only getting tighter. Walking quickly, not making eye contact, until the line—there was a line, unbelievably, for VIPs—forced him to stop. Paul had his head half-buried against his shoulder for the whole duration of their wait, tensing with every camera flash and intrigued leer. Gene realized, offhand, that the attention wasn’t pissing Paul off the way it had at CBGB. Instead, it was scaring him.
It made sense, he supposed. CBGB wasn’t nearly important enough to have reporters and cameramen about. They didn’t have big names there, either, no one that Paul would’ve really worried about bumping into. Paul had said earlier that he didn’t think he could pull off talking to someone that knew him, and Gene suspected he was right. Gene suspected an interviewer was even further beyond him at this point.
He’d expected to just be let in once they arrived at the velvet-roped entrance, not really believing Paul’s claims about exclusivity, but instead, a broad-shouldered kid with a grin held them up at the door.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Gene echoed, and shoved down his bandana. On wry automatic, he held up his free hand—full of rings, including the skull one that the teenyboppers seemed fascinated by—as if it was a secret signal. The doorman blinked, unconvinced. Gene could hear Paul snort beside him. “I’m Gene Simmons from KISS, and the—lovely Miss Eisen and I would—”
Still smiling, the doorman pointed at his own tongue.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” But Gene stuck it out anyway. The kid’s expression didn’t change much as he opened the door to let them in. Gene pocketed his bandana, but he didn’t loosen his grip on Paul until they were on the VIP floor, and hopefully beyond the bulk of the press’ touch, and even then, he didn’t let go. Paul looked a little shaken up, anyway, though Gene couldn’t blame him. It was a different beast from last night, for all their objective hadn’t changed.
“Don’t worry. They won’t have gotten any good shots,” Gene said.
“That may not matter. Depends on who else is here.” Paul sighed, worming his arm out from Gene’s, shifting to hold his hand instead. No hesitation. He was getting accustomed to it. So was Gene.
Gene stole a glance Paul’s way before really taking a look at the scene, trying to absorb New York’s hottest discotheque, decide if the interior impressed him any more than the exterior. He decided it didn’t. Maybe too promptly. But the flashing lights, the blaring music—all that was ostensibly no different from CBGB, or any other bar or club; it was just a matter of size and budget and spectacle. It didn’t matter if someone was worth ten bucks or ten million; they all looked the same passed out on the floor. Enough of them were already that Gene couldn’t quite believe they’d gotten to Studio 54 on time.
“What do you think, Gene?”
“You liked it here?”
The VIP floor was covered in lounge furniture, long couches and glass-topped tables. The carpets were dirty, and the smell of booze was heavier in the air than Gene had experienced in years. Probably not since that ill-fated Hotter than Hell shoot when they’d first started off, the one that had very nearly ended with—well. Gene wasn’t in the mood to consider that one, not given Paul’s current shape.
But almost every square inch of the place was smothered in people. Hollywood giants, of vintage and modern flavors. He saw Liz Taylor—wild, to see Cleopatra in the flesh, nearly fifteen years out from the role and easily fifty pounds heavier. He saw Michael Jackson, making moon-eyes as usual at Diana Ross. Poor, hopeless kid. He could’ve sworn he saw Truman Capote, hitting on a well-muscled, shirtless bartender. And all around the giants were the hangers-on and the hopefuls and the arm candies of the duration. Transvestites in g-string bikinis, lesbians in suits. It was viscerally strange, the sheer variety. No one was paying them much mind yet, aware, somehow, that they were too sober to be worth noticing. Paul cleared his throat, defensive.
“Well, yeah, I like it. It’s kind of wild, yeah, but—”
Three feet from them, a producer was puking straight onto the carpet, while a Playboy bunny rubbed the top of his head. On top of one of the tables, a guy was snorting a line of coke straight down a naked girl’s breasts, and as he kept sliding, Gene realized that the powder ran all the way down, bisecting her torso.
“Paul, this is a cesspool.”
“C’mon, you’ve seen this shit before.”
“Not all at once.” Gene shook his head. “You’re not even into it. Why would you go here?” He understood it for Ace and Peter, as drugged-up as they’d get. He didn’t understand it for Paul. What was he trying to accomplish? What would it really matter, getting with the big names right in their stomping grounds, when those names were so trashed that they were useless? I want to belong somewhere, that was what he’d said. But this somewhere wasn’t it.
“I just—”
“Mr. Simmons!” came a voice out of the din, eager and excitable. Not a VIP. The tone was too innocent, too close to admiring. Gene turned around.
“I’m not doing auto—”
“Mr. Simmons! I work for Mr. Rubell! I’m one of the doormen!” The kid couldn’t have been older than twenty, blondish and broad-shouldered. “Sorry I didn’t get you at the door, we’ve got a couple new guys, they don’t know—but listen, we’re all looking for that Carol chick!”
“Good.”
“We’ll tell Mr. Stanley when we see him, too.”
“Thanks.”
The doorman nodded, making an awkward salute before heading back. Obliquely, Gene wondered if Bill and Sean had checked Studio 54 out yet. Rubell seemed to have a hiring preference in line with their tastes. He turned to Paul again.
“Looks like they got the memo. You wanna sit down?”
“I… maybe for a minute.” Paul’s eyes darted around, searching for an empty table. Gene looked, too, but he didn’t see one. No corners they could tuck themselves into—not that a corner would’ve been great for keeping a lookout for Carol. Gene felt Paul squeeze his hand. Shot nerves already. Gene could tell that much before Paul spoke again. “If I can keep from talking to anybody, that’d be great.”
“I don’t think you’re going to be that lucky,” Gene said dryly, spying a tall man getting up out of his chair and waving them over.
“If it isn’t Gene Simmons!” the man called out in a distinctively non-American accent. Even if he hadn’t spoken, the feathered brown hair and bright smile would’ve made it obvious. It was Barry Gibb, holding a glass of champagne. “I thought your band was back on the road!”
“Barry, hey,” Gene said, sticking out his hand on automatic. Barry shook it exuberantly. “You’re a few weeks early for that one. How are you?”
Paul looked a bit like he wanted to die on the spot. Barry didn’t seem to notice.
“Great, great. My little brother, Andy…” if possible, Barry’s beaming increased, “he’s just released a single. It’s a guaranteed hit.”
“Really? I think I’d heard he had his own group in Australia—”
“Zenta! You do keep up!” Barry clasped his shoulder. “No, that’s done with now. He’s doing some fantastic solo work…”
Despite the meaningful, sour glances Paul kept throwing his way, Gene’s interest was piqued enough at the thought of a hit, and the thought of a worthwhile contact—the time or two they’d met in passing prior, Barry had been just about this congenial, so Gene didn’t think he was drunk—that he accepted Barry’s invitation to sit down. The next twenty minutes were filled with shop talk, Barry sending off for a Coke for Gene and a whiskey highball for Paul (Gene suspected Paul took Barry up on the offer as payback rather than an actual desire to drink, since he barely touched it), and praise Gene had a hard time fully enjoying.
“My son loves KISS, you know,” Barry said at one point. “He’s never gotten half so excited over our albums.”
“Really? How old is he?” Gene took a sip of his Coke, leaning forward. “We’ll have Casablanca send him something. We have a whole catalog of new merchandise in the works.”
“He’ll be four in December.”
Paul, who had stayed mostly silent up until that point, looked mortified.
“Four?” he almost wailed. Barry seemed amused.
“Oh, love, it’s not an insult. I wish we had that kind of mass appeal behind us.”
“Gene, this—we’ve got to talk to Bill, Gene, we just can’t—I know we don’t get taken seriously, but for God’s sake—”
Under the table, Gene nudged Paul’s bare ankle with his boot. Paul flushed and cut himself off abruptly. Barry glanced over at Paul, then took a swallow of champagne.
“The youth market's the best one to be in, Polly. I've been in this industry long enough to promise you that."
“What, ten years?”
“Next year it’ll be twenty.” Barry got up, shaking both their hands. “I hate to leave you too abruptly, but I’m to meet up with Maurice in a bit. Great to meet you, Polly, great to see you again, Gene.”
“Yeah. And I do mean it, about the merch. We’ve got dolls—”
“Oh, Steve’d love them. Thank you.” Another bright smile, and Barry headed off. Paul let out a groan as soon as he was out of earshot.
“Twenty years,” he mumbled, slumping forward, propping his head up with his hand. “How the hell was I supposed to know the Bee Gees have been at it for twenty years?”
“I didn’t, either,” Gene admitted.
“Fuck, how old is Barry, anyway? Peter’s age?”
“I have no idea.”
“At least he’s not gonna see me again like this. God, he thought I was a jackass…” Paul sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“He didn’t take it personally. Barry’s a good guy.”
“Twenty years stuck with his brothers. I’m amazed they haven’t killed each other.” Paul got up, stepping away from the table, and Gene followed suit. “Think we can get a better look around without getting interrupted? I couldn’t see anything from here.”
Just from a cursory glance, Gene doubted it. Most of the other tables were full or near-full, and no good for people-watching. They’d be better off on the floor.
“We’re going to have to stand to see.” Gene started to take Paul’s arm again, almost on automatic, but a glance at his shoulder stopped him. “Did you get another bra?”
“What?”
Gene pressed a finger against the purple strap hanging past Paul’s sleeve. Paul shook his head, looking abashed.
“No, this is… this is just the nightie.”
Paul’s cheeks were going a little pink. That pink went straight to red when Gene tugged the strap back into place for him. He had to push Paul’s hair back and turn up his sleeve in order to fix the strap up again to his shoulder, under the dress. His skin was soft, dotted with a handful of moles Gene hadn’t ever really noticed before. There was the pitted smallpox vaccination scar, and the tattoo, of course, the green stem peeking a little past his sleeve. Gene’s fingers lingered longer than they needed to on his arm before he remembered himself enough to pull back.
“The nightie? Why are you wearing that here?”
The redness in Paul’s face wasn’t anywhere near abating.
“Because I didn’t buy a slip. This dress is thinner than I thought.”
“I bet it looks cute on.”
Paul fidgeted, starting to adjust the strap himself, fiddling with the slider.
“Thought you said you just liked what was underneath.”
“Well, that’s the main event, but you’ve got to say something for packaging—"
“Keep pushing it and you won’t find out.”
“I’ll take the chance.” Gene grinned. “Dance with me.”
He said it on impulse, almost airily. The song blaring through the speakers—some new funk bit from Marvin Gaye was already midway through. Paul put one hand on Gene’s shoulder. Still worried about what people thought of him, even in a place like this. A place where no one would’ve even given much of a shit about them dancing if Paul was like he ought to be. And yet here Paul was, thinking anyone’d care about a girl leading a guy. Gene shook his head, taking Paul’s arm and moving it to his waist.
“No, you lead.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
The driving, pulsating bassline and wailing saxophone were such a far cry from the CSNY album they’d danced to in Paul’s basement. There was a flippant, overly sexual air to disco that was kind of fascinating. More marketable than their own sordid stuff. Gene didn’t know if KISS would try and ride the wave—they’d talked about it, and Paul had tossed around a few song lyrics—but it hadn’t come to much yet. Might ruin their image. Might solidify it.
Step by step. Paul was stiffer on the dance floor than he’d been in the basement. Partially because of how he had to keep shifting them both around, to avoid dancing into other couples, or stepping on passed-out partiers. But there was more to it than that. His lips were pursed, as if he didn’t quite know how to handle the song. Maybe, for once, he was listening to the lyrics.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
A little sweat was clinging to Paul’s brow, and a little more to Paul’s palm, enclosed in his. He hadn’t tried anything close to fancy, not even any turns or spins. He’d seen Paul do better than this just a few hours ago. Nerves. Except the only time Paul didn’t nerve out was in front of an audience. And this audience was too wasted to care if the two of them were tearing up the dancefloor or stumbling through each step. Paul’s tongue was poking out between his teeth again, and he wasn’t looking Gene in the face, and he wasn’t looking around the room.
Something warm was spreading in Gene, the longer he looked at Paul, the longer they danced. Stepped in time, more like. That concentration made his features seem almost sweet. Paul’s hand on his waist was fidgeting, like he’d forgotten how to hold it. Gene squeezed his shoulder, and Paul raised his head, finally, as Gene cleared his throat to speak.
“Hey. What’d you say dancing was earlier?”
Paul blinked, caught off guard enough that he stopped moving.
“Getting a feel for your partner. Mirroring them.”
“That’s right.” Gene exhaled. His fingers inched up past Paul’s shoulder, touching his cheek for a brief second before returning to his shoulder again. “Could you mirror something for me, then? Right now.”
“Yeah.” Paul had turned his head towards Gene’s hand. Was looking right at him, all big dark eyes and red lips. Red lips that were twitching up, suddenly, in the faintest ghost of a smile. “What do you want to—"
Gene inclined his head and met Paul’s lips with his own.
Paul kissed back instantly. Greedily. Gene was almost taken aback. It wasn’t ferocious so much as desperate, as though all his pent-up energy was suddenly given just a single release. Paul’s tongue licked across Gene’s lips for entrance before Gene could even get there first, hot and overwhelming. Gene dropped his hold on Paul’s hand to cup his smooth, soft jaw, fingers careful not to brush too far past it. His fingertips caught onto Paul’s curls, stiff with hairspray, yet they still somehow felt good against his fingers. The scent of his cologne, emanating off his hair and neck, was almost overwhelming, cologne and sweat and something else; for an insane moment Gene felt like he could almost smell the want on him.
Paul tightened his grip on Gene’s waist, pulling him forward until their bodies were flush. Gene’s hard-on was getting unbearable, pressing up against Paul nearly worse than no relief, because of all the things wasn’t. Gene couldn’t think straight. Could barely let himself remember who was kissing him so ardently, who he was kissing back, whose lipstick was smearing against his mouth and jaw and neck—
Gene only pulled back to get a breath in. Paul’s hand had sunk below Gene’s waist, groping at his ass through the leather fabric. Paul kept shoving his hips against him, friction that didn’t really quite manage to hit its target. Too much of a height difference. They could fix that. Fuck, they could fix that right here in the disco, in one of those basement rooms—he could fuck Paul there, against the wall, or on the floor; he didn’t care, anywhere. He murmured against Paul’s neck, lapping and kissing, not quite daring to leave a mark against his skin. Gene barely felt Paul’s ankle latch around his boot, almost as if he was laying claim, but it warmed him, nearly as much as Paul’s little hitches for breath, the needy press of his lips against his skin. Gene grunted, fingers tightening on Paul’s hair, intending on tugging him back in for another kiss when Paul’s expression shifted, dilated, glassy eyes suddenly going wide, whole body tight as piano wire. His foot went back into place on the floor, stiff as a soldier, hands seeming frozen on Gene. The color was starting to drain from his face.
“Paul? What’s wrong?”
It must have hit him. His brain must have caught up with his libido faster than Gene’s had. Gene started to let go, feeling his brow furrow, a little, hopeless shame twitching in his gut, but then Paul grabbed onto him harder, shaking his head.
“It’s not you. It’s not you, I swear.” One hand withdrew, just to point. Gene couldn’t follow Paul’s finger at first, with the slew of people, but finally he caught sight of the blond doorman from earlier, ushering someone forward, towards them. Someone cute, but not beautiful. Not a VIP. Someone he knew wouldn’t belong on her own here, any more than Paul did.
A small young woman with light brown hair.
“She’s here.”
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Mixed Drink - 9/? | westallen fanfiction
A/N: You’ll like this one. ;)
Commissioned by @travelattwilight
*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.
...
Chapter 9 -
Patty shook her head as she munched on her last piece of salad.
“This is incredible.”
“The food?” Iris asked, pretending naivety. “I know. It really is.”
“No, this guy.”
Iris felt heat rise into her cheeks.
Was she mad at Barry for ditching her twice today? Maybe. Did that change the way she felt about him? Hell no. If anything, it only made her want him more.
They do say distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Besides, they had all day tomorrow to spend together before he left. Surely, she could allow for one day’s work after having kept him thoroughly occupied for most of his time here. She smiled smugly at the thought.
“You hook up with him – recklessly, of course.”
Iris rolled her eyes.
“Then he robs you. Then he takes you out for breakfast and you hook up again.”
“He’s hot, okay?” Iris felt slightly unnerved.
“Show me a picture.”
Iris frowned. “I don’t have one. We’ve only known each other-”
“A few days, yeah, I know. Exactly my point.”
Iris sighed. “Patty, I’ve lost a lot. My parents, my job…you.”
Her lips parted.
“So, forgive me if I want to be a little reckless and get involved in a very hot, steamy affair with a mysterious guy who pulls out all the stops for me.”
Patty flushed.
“I’m sorry, Iris. I’m being judgy. I’m working on that.” She hesitated, then licked her lips. “Come back to the apartment.”
Iris slowly set her glass down just as she had brought it halfway to her mouth.
“Are you serious?”
Patty nodded. “I am. I’ll take on extra shifts at work while you look for another job. You’re really talented. Anybody would be a fool not to take you on. Your…” She paused, debating whether to not all out with her compliments. The hell with it. “Your passion be damned.”
Iris’ jaw dropped.
“Was that…a curse word coming out of your mouth?” She altered her voice to a southern accent. “Patricia Spivot, I do declare.”
Patty sent her a glare.
“Sorry.”
“You’re not,” she said, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
Iris sobered up.
“Listen, Patty, in all seriousness, you were right to kick me out. I don’t regret what I did, but I should’ve taken you into consideration. We’re not just roommates. We’re a team, and I bailed on you.”
Patty’s shoulders slumped.
“Yeah, well, I did the same.”
She brightened almost as soon as she’d deflated. Then she offered up her pinky to Iris.
“Roomies for life?”
Iris grinned and twisted her pinkie around Patty’s.
“Roomies for life.” She paused, then teased, “Well, unless I marry the guy I wanted to kill and kiss in the same breath earlier this week.”
Her eyes twinkled, but then she gasped, realizing what she’d just said.
Patty’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“Iris-”
“Nope. Not another word.”
…
Barry exhaled loudly as he entered the hotel room, letting the door swing shut behind him. Today had been a day. He couldn’t remember a day as long as this one in – he didn’t know how long. Though he supposed that was more about him wanting to spend it with Iris and not being able to than his tasks actually being that time-consuming or difficult.
He didn’t know how he was going to break the news to her, though.
God, how he hated Kevin fucking Draeger.
“Long day?” Iris’ voice came from outside on the balcony. She had a glass of champagne in both hands. One had been sipped from. The other was presumably his.
He relaxed, content, a sappy smile coming over his face.
“You look like Heaven,” he said, breathing her in after she’d gone up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I wish this could last forever.” He held her close, unwilling to let her go.
“We still have tomorrow,” she reminded him, and the look that greeted her betrayed every word she said. She sank back onto the balls of her feet. “Or maybe we don’t.”
“I’m so sorry, Iris.”
She took a step back.
“This was our last day. And you spent it-”
“Iris.”
“I know I kept you…distracted.” She avoided eye contact. “For the last few days, but you told me we’d have tomorrow. You lied to me.”
“Iris.”
“For the third time today!”
She turned away from him and ran her fingers through her hair, regretting everything she’d planned for the night. Champagne in the silky black dress he’d bought for her, followed by a soak in the hot tub, some making out and cuddling in their robes on the bed before they inevitably made love and fell asleep to the sound of crackling embers in the gas fireplace in the hotel room.
She didn’t even know how long he had before he had to go. It was already five o’clock.
“I wasn’t lying when I said it!” he said. “I didn’t know I’d get caught up. I didn’t know my asshole of a boss would hold something over my head, so I’d have to leave tonight.”
She spun around.
“What is he holding over you?” Barry sighed. “Let me guess, you can’t tell me.”
He said nothing.
“God, I can’t believe this. I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, standing in front of the door even as she picked up her purse and started shoving some of her things inside it.
“Patty’s,” she spat. “We made up.”
His eyes were suddenly alight with happiness.
“You made up? Really?”
“Yes,” she seethed.
He approached her slowly.
“That wouldn’t have happened if we’d been together all day.”
She stalked right up to him, pointing her finger at him angrily.
“Don’t turn this into a positive.”
“Patty taking you back isn’t a good thing?”
“No, of course it is. Just… No. Stop it.”
She turned around and went back to packing up what little she could stuff in her medium-sized purse.
“Iris, please don’t go,” he pleaded.
She glared at him and stopped packing.
“Why not?”
“Because…”
She raised her eyebrows, waiting.
“Because, I…”
He seemed to be searching for words he didn’t know and couldn’t find. The realization nearly made Iris’ heart stop.
He fixed his eyes on her.
“Because I’m going to miss you so damn bad.”
He reached for her and closed his mouth over hers before she could think of what to say. Stumbling back into the bed, Barry kicked off his shoes and lifted the silky dress off her, kissing up her stomach and between her breasts as he did so. She shivered in his arms and unbuttoned his shirt, loving the feel of him, the indents of his abs, the firm muscle of his biceps.
He flipped them over and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants soon after. Iris stared at his cock hungrily as it came into view.
“God, I’m obsessed with you.”
He drew her gaze away as he came down to kiss her, and the next two hours passed with lovemaking that would stretch into their dreams for the next month as they awaited each other’s return.
It would have to.
…
Lying in bed, their legs and fingers intertwined, Iris’ head tucked safely into the crook of Barry’s neck, she could feel the ache in her heart surging as the alarm signaling Barry’s departure went off.
She wanted to beg him to stay. She wanted to tell him to rebel, screw his boss, he could make his own decisions. And if nothing needed to be done till Monday night, then damn it, he should be allowed to stay put until then.
Barry pressed a kiss to her forehead, as his hand flowing up and down her back slowly came to a halt.
“I have to go.”
“No,” she said, entwining herself further around him.
He smiled to himself, still amazed that this was the same woman who never wanted to see him again less than a week ago.
“I have to, Iris.”
She sighed, loosening her grip. Then she untangled herself completely and sat up, facing away from him on the edge of the bed. His hand moved to rub her back again, but she scooted out of reach.
“Iris?”
She looked at him over her shoulder, her long, dark tresses flowing down her back.
“I’m gonna miss you so damn much,” she whispered.
He lifted himself up to pull her close and kiss her.
“I’ll miss you more.”
“You’re a dream,” she murmured against his skin. “A dream I’m going to lose the second you walk out that door.
“No,” he insisted. “I’ll come back next month. I’ll be with you longer. I promise.”
“Sounds like another lie to me,” she said whimsically, then regretted it. She didn’t apologize, but she offered an apologetic look and that apparently was enough.
“I have a burner phone,” he said. “You can call me. Text even. Can’t send pictures, though. Unfortunately.” His lips twisted wryly.
“Will you think of me?” she asked.
“Every day.”
“Dream of me?”
“Every night.”
“Want no one but me?”
He stilled.
“I know it’s a lot to as-”
“You only want me?” he rasped, and the desperation in his voice forced her to lighten the mood with an offhand remark.
“Well, I certainly don’t want Teddy,” she teased, then lowered her lips to his for one last kiss.
…
Settled on the airplane, Barry grumpily found his way to a spot in the back. Felicity – surprise, surprise – landed in the seat next to him less than five minutes later.
“How are things with Iris?” she asked giddily.
He glared at her.
“What?” She frowned. “No one can hear us. And I’m excited for you.” She nudged him.
“She’s pissed,” he said. “And heartbroken.”
Her frown deepened. “Why’s that?”
“I told her I could stay till tomorrow, but Kevin – asshole that he is – used his annoying superiority and blackmailed me into coming back with the rest of you tonight.”
Her jaw dropped. “He didn’t.”
Barry nodded once. “He did. Said anything could happen at a moment’s notice and I needed to be present if it did, not an ocean away.” He paused. “More or less.”
“That son-of-a-”
“My thinking exactly.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” She stood to her feet.
Barry watched her cautiously, almost panicked.
“What are you doing?”
“To give Kevin a piece of my mind.”
“No, Felicity, don’t! It’ll just make it worse!”
“It won’t. Trust me.” She started heading off, determined. “Felicity Smoak puts fear into the hearts of men.”
His brows furrowed, unsure if that made sense. And he contemplated too long, because soon she was at the front of the plane yelling at Kevin. Barry looked away from the two the second Kevin looked in his direction.
Felicity returned to him a few minutes later and sat down quietly. He watched her, then looked at his boss who was glaring but called him to the front of the plane with a curl to his finger. He rose to go to him and Felicity nearly tripped him in the process, clearing her throat as she crossed one knee over the other.
“You’re welcome,” she coughed; and warily, he smiled.
He strode to the front of the plane where Kevin glared at him and barked his orders.
“Seven p.m. sharp Sunday night. Is that clear, Allen?”
Barry’s eyes widened.
“Is that clear?”
Somehow, he found his tongue.
“Never been clearer, sir.”
Kevin gestured towards the door.
“Go. Before I change my mind.”
Barry scrambled out of the plane as fast as his legs could carry him, and out of the airport somehow even faster. He burst through the hotel room a grand total of twenty minutes later to find a curled up Iris sniffling on his side of the bed.
“Iris!” he announced himself jubilantly, belatedly registering her tears and echoing the crestfallen look on her face.
“Barry?” she asked, confused when he was suddenly beside her. “What are you doing here?”
He grinned slowly, triumphantly.
“I thought…” But she was starting to smile too.
He kissed her, loving the moan it drew out of her and how her fingers tangled in his hair as a result.
“Turns out I have friends in high places,” he whispered into her mouth.
She almost cried, instead pulling him onto the bed with one leg wrapped around him.
“I love your friends.”
...
*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.
#westallen#fanfiction#backtothestart02 fanfiction#westallen fanfiction#mixed drink#chapter 9#commission by travelattwighlight
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Final Thoughts - Netflix Exclusives 2018
Oh my god you guys, I’m finally done. I’m free from the prison of 2018, just in time to actually finish my premieres for spring of 2019. But first, let’s talk!
2018 was the year that Netflix really went all-in on producing its own anime and picking up some big names, so we saw Devilman Crybaby made specifically for the service and high-profile shows like Dragon Pilot and Hi-Score Girl basically hijacked by the streaming service and delayed for months in the U.S. so that the biggest name in the game could release everything in bingeable packages. Unfortunately, bringing in an auteur like Masaaki Yuasa for Crybaby and throwing all the damn money at him worked so well that, long before any of these shows would even premiere, they decided to seemingly take any anime pitch under the sun, and wound up financing disasters like Hero Mask and B: The Beginning. Really, these shows kind of run the full gamut from garbage to god-tier, with an unfortunate tipping of the scale in the wrong direction. I haven’t gotten to see Ingress yet at the time of publication though, so we’ll have to see whether 2019 will start in a good direction.
ANYWAY.
DROPPED
WORST OF NETFLIX: Back Street Girls -GOKUDOLS-
I still don’t get how anyone thought this was worth promoting. The entire concept is offensive, and yet it was directed by a master and veteran of the medium (who is also a woman), leading me to just throw my hands in the air and resign myself to never having a satisfactory answer for why Netflix would pick this up to begin with. Dropped after 1 episode.
Hero Mask
One of the most incompetently written first episodes I’ve ever seen gave me absolutely no hope that Hero Mask was going to actualize into anything watchable or even average-looking. It was boring and unintelligible. Dropped after 1 episode.
Fate/EXTRA: Last Encore
What the fuck was Akiyuki Shinbo even doing on Fate? Did he do this at the expense of season 3 of March comes in like a lion or something? Probably not, but geez... This seems much more like someone attempting to copy his style than the genuine article, but nope, there’s his director credit. In the end, I suppose that Fate/EXTRA, despite being a very interesting game, was not ever going to be adapted well - the protagonist is almost literally a blank slate for a self-insert of the player, and their servant is also not set in stone - but I kind of would have rather had nothing than this. Dropped after 2 episodes.
SWORDGAI The Animation
Oh hey, yet another “the Animation”, it definitely doesn’t sound pretentious yet. I don’t have much to say on SWORDGAI, or at least not any more than anyone else - it’s stupid, very earnestly stupid, and doesn’t seem aware enough of that fact to be entertaining for more than a hate watch - and my hate plate is full already. Dropped after 1 episode.
Last Hope
I remember almost nothing about Last Hope other than that it was both pretentious and nonsensical, which kind of illustrates why Yoshiyuki Tomino is wise enough to stay out of anything that isn’t his beautiful Gundam baby, and it’s a shame that Kawamori (father of Super Dimensional Fortress Macross) doesn’t stick with what he knows, which is mech design. (No, seriously, he’s got a ton of credits on MAL and they’re almost all for that.) Dropped after 1 episode.
BAKI
Oh, BAKI, it’s okay, you’re a remnant from a different time. That time was right around when Mars of Destruction seemed like a good idea. It’s not that bad so I shouldn’t really mention them in the same sentence, but the hyper-violent imagery of this show is on the level of the Berserk manga. It’s unfortunate that I had to leave it after one episode because Netflix picked up a sequel that relies heavily on your pre-existing investment (just like with the Dragons TV show, for the record). Dropped after 1 episode.
A.I.C.O. Incarnation
I stuck with this one longer than any other that I didn’t drop, but in hindsight I shouldn’t have wasted my time. It’s one of the worst-looking Bones productions I’ve ever seen and the plot is a dumb ripoff of a much better science fiction series. Dropped after six episodes.
B: The Beginning
Probably the biggest waste of money on this list, B has such lavish animation that you can almost forget that you have absolutely no clue what’s happening or what the context of the story even is. It tries really hard to be both Psycho-Pass and Death Note at the same time to the point of cutting between them multiple times per scene, and it just ends up a badly jumbled mess, albeit one with really pretty colors. Dropped after 3 episodes.
Kakegurui
I still don’t have much to say here because the topic has been so thoroughly covered by The Anime Pope, so I’ll resummarize here - this is a show about gambling where the stakes seem utterly meaningless, even though it tries to impress us by showering money on the characters.
Children of the Whales
It’s so pretty, but it’s so boring. Children of the Whales succeeds in looking beautiful, but fails as a story that wants to be grim and apocalyptic but comes across as a soft-hearted small-village story that gets surprisingly violent four episodes in. This should have been the tone from the beginning, and the entire thing needed a good kick in the pants. Dropped after five episodes.
FINISHED
Sirius the Jaeger (6/10)
One that I waited a long time for after seeing the PV at Anime Central last year, and wound up pretty disappointed by in general. It looks nice (...at first), given that P.A. Works at least knows how to make a show visually appealing on a consistent basis, but the plot jumps so far into cliched stupidity by the end that, even though it had a few twists I wasn’t expecting, they couldn’t save it from being something I won’t recommend to anyone with as much anime experience as myself.
Lost Song (7/10)
(Author’s note: Yeah, apparently nobody on all of Tumblr has made a GIF of this one...)
Lost Song was a pleasant surprise that I wasn’t expecting to be invested enough to finish. One of the best of LIDENFILMS’ output, it manages to weave together a decent fantasy Symphogear AU fanfic, with interesting third-act twists peppering the last few episodes that made it memorable despite looking pretty generic. There’s a sequel due this year, too!
Hi Score Girl (7/10)
A very visually distinctive show with a neat concept that didn’t dive far enough into the heavy subjects it brings up, Hi Score Girl sits in a place where I like the presentation of it a lot more than I like the story. Don’t get me wrong, the romance is certainly cute, and I won’t begrudge a love triangle if it’s meant to be the primary conflict of a show, but the fact that it spent most of its last episode setting up for later robbed it of the chance to give us a satisfying place to leave off until the next part of this adaptation. Luckily, it got a second season, hopefully to finish the adaptation later this year.
Forest of Piano (7/10)
A good first try by a fledgling studio, but not one that lives up to what it really wants to be due to some very bad habits. I still distinctly remember the constant character shilling, and it feels like the story could have happened a little faster if not for the breaks every few minutes to heap praise upon the protagonist. Also, the mo-cap piano playing still looks weird. I’ll probably watch the sequel though, to see if it gets concluded well.
Dragon Pilot: Hisone to Masotan (8/10)
I literally just did my write-up for this one, so I don’t have much new to say here, but I’m pleased that Dragon Pilot turned out as well as it did despite not being what I quite expected from it.
Aggretsuko (8/10)
A fantastic and rather unorthodox look at what it’s actually like to be an adult in the Japanese workforce, Aggretsuko was an early darling of the year, and the only things that could have made it better were a more interesting visual presentation and a less squirrelly ending. Shame that the Christmas Special was...not good.
Devilman Crybaby (9/10)
It was so, so good...right up until the end. Yeah, that’s the only thing holding this back from a perfect score - I really, really hate the ending, and it needed to be changed. I know that, for most people, the best show of the year was either this one, or the most conspicuous work that hasn’t yet appeared on this list, though, so…
BEST NETFLIX SHOW OF THE YEAR: Violet Evergarden (10/10)
Oh God, what beautiful cry-porn. I hope that Kyoto Animation was paid well for their best show in years, and I’m kind of shocked that the two shows that made me sob the most this year both came out in the same season (thanks, A Place Further Than the Universe). I won’t spoil more than I did in my original review, but Netflix should be pushing this to literally everyone who would be even casually interested in watching it.
And that’s it! Last but not least, the last list won’t be a roundup of the whole year (since, you know, I’ve already done that in big chunks), but a list of the Class of 2018 Superlatives. Look forward to it!
#arcaneanime#netflix 2018#violet evergarden#devilman crybaby#aggretsuko#lost song#sirius the jaeger#dragon pilot#hi score girl#forest of piano
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Day 1 of Moms Made Fullmetal Week!!
It’s a bit late becaue work, but here it is!
Prompt: Family or Love or Baby-talk
Ao3 link here.
Riza was pulled from her deep slumber by something tugging on her hair. She groaned and turned to the other side, willing for sleep to come back. Still, the tugging continued. Riza groaned and turned her head towards the bedside table at the clock sitting there: ten in the morning.
As a soldier, it was drilled into every one to be a morning person. This proved to be a huge problem for Rebecca who still had to set three consecutive alarms, all within 5 minutes of each other, just to be able to get up. Riza, however, is a morning person, ever since she was a child. So during their time in the military, she was usually the one to wake Rebecca up instead of suffering through the shrill noise of all her alarms.
It was rare enough for her to be home during a weekday, much less for her to be sleeping in. Usually, off days are spent by doing the extra chores around the house, paying bills, or doing laundry. But a particular nightmare kept her up during the night until Roy found her sleeping and curled up on the chair in the living room, an open book on her lap. She must’ve gone back to bed in the early morning hours and was not even aware of it.
As she started to rub the sleep from her eyes, something tugged on her hair again.
At first, she thought it was Hayate. Usually, her dog is well mannered but if he wants something, like his breakfast, for example, he climbs up the bed and snuggles with her. Riza thinks this behavior started to happen when Roy moved in and he lets Hayate up the furniture and even on the bed. His complaints of inhaling dog fur became nonexistent when Riza said that if he doesn’t want dog fur to get everywhere, he has to let Hayate sleep on his bed by the door. Still, she finds the dog curled up by their feet every night.
She turned around, with every intention of scolding Hayate for climbing up the bed again and chewing her hair but instead of a black wet snout, it was something else.
William. Her son.
It seemed surreal to even say that. Now even months later, she found the idea of becoming a mother and a wife seem more like a dream than her actual reality. But here she was, in bed at 9 am on a Tuesday, in a beautiful family house near the city, with her son.
Will’s chubby fingers are wrapped around a fistful of her hair, giggling and laughing. His eyes, very much like his father’s, are shining with delight. He released his grip and flapped his arms up and down, delighted to see her awake. With her reputation as a veteran in the war, especially with the title “Hawk’s Eye”, people tend to look at her and see a ruthless soldier. Detached and cold, only serving the country to fulfill her duty. Some see a hero, some see a murderer. Others who know more of her look at her and see a friend, a colleague, a confidant. Yet, now, nothing else matters because this boy in her arms only sees someone he loves, someone who is his mother.
Riza sat up, a smile etched on her face. She took the boy into her arms and said, “Why are you here, how did you get here?” Her question was answered by a piece of note she found by the bedside table.
He woke up at 6 this morning, so I took him to his crib but he started crying and just stopped as soon as I placed him down beside you. Was out like a lamp within minutes after lying down. Guess he also sleeps better besides you too. I sent Kathy to do all your chores for today so you can stay at home for once. She’ll probably be back before noon.
Just take it easy today. -R
Damn, that man is late for work again. This statement comforted her, the thought of the baby being left alone with her sleeping made her feel uneasy. It was tough during the first few months but she was getting better at leaving him from time to time. It also eased her mind to find something who they trusted to look after their son while both of them are at work. Fuery suggested one of his younger sisters as a temporary nanny. This helped the young girl too as she was going to the city for university and needed extra income. Fuery vouched for her and she trusts him. Having Kathy around the house is a godsend. Also, the fact that the baby likes her is another good thing.
She smiled. “You were crying this morning? Are you hungry? Do you miss Momma?”
Will’s answering laughter is the most beautiful sound she has ever heard. With everything that happened in her life, all the ups and downs, the countless times she came close to dying and losing everything, it was all worth it because of him.
She knows she did not deserve anything she has today. Not the doting husband, the beautiful son, not even the freedom she received. Not when she robbed the people she killed in Ishval.
Still, she would give everything up for her son. Everything.
Riza felt him tugging on her hair again, this time he was chewing on the blond strands.
“You like my hair, do you? Hmmm.” She swayed him slightly from side to side, the way he likes.
After the Promised Day, she decided that she was done with the long hair and got her hair cut up the way she had when she was younger. Partly in preparation for Ishval as scorching hot weather will surely be irritating while having long hair. Also, she welcomed the thought of something new in her now monotonous life, devoid of dealing with immortal super-powered creatures who wanted to take over the power of God.
Now almost a year after her last haircut, it just fell back behind her, brushing against the top of her tattoo.
Her son suddenly became quiet. Leaning over to him, she found him snuggled against the crook of her neck with one fist around her hair and the other inside his mouth.
So he has a fascination with her hair too. Like father, like son then. Maybe she should take a rain check on getting that haircut appointment?
“Honey, don’t.” Riza carefully pried her son’s chubby fingers away from her hair. She stood up, Will in her arms, and headed into the kitchen. Someone, probably Roy made eggs and coffee for her before they left. She lowered the baby down the bassinet they had set up in the living room and fixed herself a plate and much-needed coffee.
She loved lazy mornings like this as she rarely got them. Just her and the baby in the house. Riza quietly watched him in the bassinet, clutching a wooden toy soldier painted with a blue Amestris uniform. Ed has said it seemed fitting when he saw it at an antique store during one of his travels. He figured he’d give it to him when he dropped by shortly after the baby had been born.
She leaned over and stared at him. Will stared back with wide eyes that brought a soft smile to her face. He giggled and reached out his arms, wanting to be carried.
Riza reached down and took him into her arms. She put her feet up the coffee table and settled the baby on her lap. Once again, she found him with a tendril of hair between his fingers.
“Aw, you really love my hair, do you? Is it just the hair or is it me? What do you think?” She playfully moved her thighs up and down, rocking Will slightly, making him burst into adorable giggles again. “Should I just make a wig or something and leave it with you at night, huh? That’s disturbing, so no but what do you think? Should mommy cut her hair again? Hmmm, say Mama. Come on, honey, say Mama? I won’t cut my hair if you say Mama, sweetheart.”
“I don’t even have a say in it?” a voice spoke up.
Looking up, Roy was taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of the armchair. He strode over them and kissed the top of her head and then the Will’s, and sank down beside her on the sofa. Noticing the empty plate and cup on the coffee table, “You just got up?” he asked.
“First off, you never had any say in it. It’ll always be this little guy’s opinion. Second, why are you here? It’s barely noon?” Usually, during weekends, when Roy has to leave for work, he usually gets home until after lunch, but it’s barely 11 and he’s already here.
Roy leaned back and sighed, putting up his boot on top of the coffee table next to hers. “They just needed me to attend a couple of meetings and go over some paperwork, which I finished,” he added that last part as an answer to Riza’s questioning gaze. “So once all that was done, I got up and went home. Already missed your lazy morning with the little guy. I don’t wanna miss lazy afternoons too.” He had his arm resting across her shoulder, a finger absentmindedly twirling a tendril of hair.
See? Like father, like son.
Riza rested her head against his shoulder and both of them watched in awe of their son babble unintelligible words like he was making a speech for the entire nation. She sighed.
“What?” Roy looked down at her. She shook her head. “Nothing. Just thinking.”
“Okay, now I am scared.” Roy muttered which earned him an elbow to the ribs.
Looking at their small apartment, at the dirty dishes on the sink, clutter on the counter, and then to the little human on her lap. “I just didn’t think we’d end up here.” she confessed. “With everything that happened in the past few years, I can’t imagine, not in my wildest dreams, that I’d actually be here, married and a mom, being all domestic. That was the last thing I ever imagined. I mean, we were all too busy trying to stay alive and not get caught arranging a coup.
Roy chuckled. “Are you reminiscing?” Riza snorted then rolled her eyes. “No, I’m just happy.”
Her husband looked down at her with this look in his eyes and pressed his lips against her temple and tugged her closer to his side. “So, the scary Hawk’s Eye baby talks, huh? Roy teased. Riza aimed another well-placed dig into his ribs and leaned away, rocking Will a little, her hands splayed across his back. Beside her, Roy is doubled over, arms across his stomach, fake betrayal etched across his face.
“Oh, stop being a baby. We already have one.” Riza rolled her eyes. Of course, she remembered aside from a baby, she also has a man-child husband too. “And if you ever let that out, I will drag you to the range to keep your ego in check.”
Roy leaned back in and tugged her back to his side, “Don’t worry Mustang. Your secret’s safe with me.”
She made him remember those words when Rebecca made it slip that everyone in the team knows about the baby talk the week after.
#moms-made-fullmetal-2020#fic#Day 1#Fullmetal Alchemist#full metal alchemist: brotherhood#Riza Hawkeye#Roy Mustang#fma#fmab
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Catch Me If You Can (10/?)
298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.
But then he came back and won the World Series.
It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.
Asking her out live on-air will do that.
Rating: Mature
A/N: Happy Day, you guys! I’m giving you a quick update here! I hope you enjoy!
Thank you to @resident-of-storybrooke for being a really awesome beta❤️
Found on AO3: Beginning | Current
Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Tag list: @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @emmas-storybook @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @galaxyzxstark @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer
-/-
Emma: Do you know if we’re getting food on this flight?
Killian:It’s seven thirty in the morning.
Emma: And your point? That’s breakfast time.
Emma: I usually stock up on snacks because I am a bottomless pit, but I didn’t have time to this morning. Do you have anything?
Killian: I have an apple. I can very clearly see that Rob has a box of Wheat Thins in his backpack though. You want me to smuggle some for you?
Emma: How would that even work?
Killian: Easy. I steal the box from Rob and then chunk it three rows up to you.
Emma: That won’t be obvious at all.
Killian: I’m very stealthy, love.
“It’s not even eight in the morning,” Robin groans, reaching for the lever on his seat to recline back in the very little space that they’re given. “Who in the world are you texting that much?”
“Liam,” he lies, heat rising to his cheeks. He has texted Liam this morning, but he’s most definitely not texting his brother right now. It’s a half-truth, really. “He’s trying to nail me down for some dinner plans once we get back home. I haven’t gotten to see them much lately, and he and Elsa always get antsy whenever that happens.”
“You’re pretty much their third child.”
“I feel like I’m their third child but also your second.”
“No,” Robin huffs, reaching down into his bag to grab his crackers, “that’s most definitely Will.”
“I can hear you,” Will mumbles from the seat in front of them as he stretches out and snuggles further into his pillow. Will could sleep on any plane at any time. It’s damn impressive. “And I’m not a child just because you all feel the need to baby me, Professor Jones.”
“So not a child but a baby then?” he teases.
Will sticks his middle finger up in between the seats, not even bothering to open his eyes as he murmurs, “fuck off.”
“I love you too, man.”
“Don’t worry,” Robin placates, a smirk on his face, “he’s only mean to you because he likes you.”
“That’s a load of bullshit.”
“For me, yeah, because I say things when I feel them.” Will pops his head in between the seats, his eyes widened but sleep heavy now. “But I think Emma is so pissy toward you because she does actually think you’re hot.”
Woah. Where did that even come from?
“Is that what she said?” he questions like he’s a fifteen-year-old boy worried about Chrissy Stephens liking him back and not like a grown man who knows that the woman he fancies is also interested in him.
What a world that he lives in that Emma Swan is interested in him.
That or she’s been very good at faking it for the last two weeks. God, he hopes that she hasn’t been faking it, but that seems like a hell of a lot of effort when they’ve talked nearly every day. Sometimes it’s just a few texts, a passing word in the hallway, an interview or a press conference question. Other times it’s a phone call late at night or Emma dropping by his place for an hour to eat dinner. He can tell that she’s still terrified by the whole thing, nervous energy practically radiating off of her when she first starts talking to him, but once they get into the groove of things, he believes that she feels comfortable.
Her wanting this and being willing to try is beyond his wildest dreams, and a part of him still thinks he’s going to be hit in the head with a baseball and wake up from whatever kind of concussion-induced dream that he’s under.
So much shit has gone down in his life, things from years past still haunting him, and he’s clinging to this good thing even if it’s far too early for any of that. He hasn’t done this relationship thing in a long time, and he’s still not entirely sure that’s what it is. They haven’t talked about it, and he imagines Emma is not going to be the person to bring it up first.
If ever.
They could be getting married, and she still might not want to discuss things.
Woah, woah, woah. That is thinking too far ahead for about a million different reasons. He is not going there.
Will’s eyes narrow at him, thick brows pushing together all the while Killian can practically feel Robin’s stare covering every inch of him. “Why do you care?”
He shrugs, his fingers fidgeting with the window shade to let some light in before immediately shutting that away. “I like to know what’s being said about me.”
“She’s sitting right up there. Why don’t you ask her, Professor Jones?”
“Because that sounds like a dumbass idea that will get me in all kinds of trouble.”
“It’s true,” Robin sighs. “You should not be talking to Emma Swan about anything other than baseball.”
His heart drops into his right calf at that. He didn’t know that was possible, but it is. Why would Robin think something like that?
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t want to piss her off anymore. She could flip the narrative on you so quickly that you’d get whiplash and all the sudden you’d be back to who you were four years ago.”
His defenses rise, words on the tip of his tongue at the ready to defend Emma. He doesn’t like that Robin thinks she would do that. They’ve all spent time around Emma. They know that even if she can be a little guarded, she’s got their best interests at heart. Even when they’ve screwed up, him especially, she’s never done anything to wrong them.
“That wouldn’t happen. She’s a professional. You know that. She’s not going to pull shit like that,” he says quietly, wondering how in the world he can change this conversation to something else so as not to show all of the metaphorical cards in his hands. “Can I have some of those crackers, Rob?”
Robin eyes him for a moment before handing him the box. Killian doesn’t even really want these, but he’s thankful for them as the conversation dies down and Will goes back to sleeping after under two minutes of trying and Robin keeps watching his movie, typing a long text to Carol for something having to do with Roland. He doesn’t want to pry, so he tries not to look, reluctantly eating the Wheat Thins before snapping a picture of them and sending it to Emma.
Killian: I can throw these across the plane if you’re ready to catch them.
Emma: Hit me with your best shot.
Emma: Not really.
Emma: Please don’t throw food on the plane. I saw that there are snacks in the back, and I’m going to pilfer them.
Before he knows it, he sees Emma’s blonde head rise up as she gets out of her seat and walks down the aisle past him. She doesn’t look at him, her eyes staring straight ahead, but that doesn’t keep him from looking as she sweetly asks a flight attendant for a packet of cookies. It looks like she’s learned since the last time they flew.
When she comes back toward him, he turns in his seat and goes back to flipping through the movies, pretending like he wasn’t just staring her down. Hopefully she didn’t notice that. She may like him, but everyone has their limits.
Emma: The red-headed flight attendant thinks you’re hot.
Killian: I’ve been reliably told that you think the same thing, and I care much more about that.
Emma: Who told you that?
Killian: You’re not the only one who can have sources.
Emma: At least mine are reliable.
Killian: So you don’t think I’m hot?
Emma: I didn’t say that.
Killian: I knew you thought I was sexy, Swan. You flatter a man.
Emma: Shut up and eat your Wheat Thins.
-/-
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fucking hell.
Small pinpricks of pain are spreading down his arm while his shoulder stings. Someone might as well be out here stabbing him with a knife. It would likely be less painful than this.
Not again.
Not tonight.
He’s been doing so well, his shoulder not bothering him, all of his physical therapy working to keep his muscles strengthening and his body in check, and then shit like this happens. There’s no way he can make it past the inning, and even if he wasn’t about to call it, he knows that Al is going to pull him off the mound in no less than three minutes with how many runs he’s giving up.
It’s…not good. They’re down 2-8 in the bottom of the fourth, and he might as well be dying out here under the Florida sunshine and the humidity that has his bones weighing twice their normal weight. Spring Training never prepares him for this when it’s this muggy outside.
He might as well be in a damn swamp. Tropicana field sounds so cheery, so pleasant, but he’s dying inside. Why the hell do teams agree to name their fields things like Tropicana and Minute Maid? How much exactly are they getting paid to suffer like that?
How much is he getting paid to suffer like this?
Taking a deep breath, he tries to focus on what’s in front of him. That’s all he can do when his body is failing him like this, and with a quick windup, he releases the ball from his grip and watches it fly right into Will’s glove.
Strike three. Byrd’s out.
Immediately, he jogs to the dugout, opening the small gate and going straight for the water cooler, gulping down a cup before pouring himself another one and covering his head to try to cool himself down. He’s so damn mad at himself for playing like this, for having a body that’s failing him when his body has always been his livelihood and the thing he maintained with precision and dedication, and all he wants is to punch every single member of the Rays even though none of them have ever actually wronged him.
Anger takes its way out in strange places.
“You’re done, Jones,” Al tells him, his voice clipped.
“Good.”
He tosses his cup to the ground in annoyance and turns to make his way to the bench, figuring he’ll suffer out here for a little while longer, only to see Emma standing with her bottom lip tugged between her teeth and her phone in her hand.
Right.
She’s sitting in the dugout with them tonight recording videos and doing fun little segments for her Instagram and Twitter, and he’s probably looked like an ass in all of them.
Because he is an ass.
“You okay?” she mouths.
He doesn’t respond with more than a shake of his head no before he’s turning away and heading toward the tunnels that will take him back to the locker room so he can get this damn shoulder massaged and have Archie yell at him once again for trying to keep all of this under wraps.
-/-
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Killian sighs into his phone as he runs the towel over his waist, drying his body as much as he can before knotting it over his hip. His brother doesn’t seem to understand that people are busy and life is busy and maybe he wants to shower for fifteen minutes simply so everyone will leave him alone.
It’s been three hours since he left the field after the game, and it’s still not enough time to let him simmer in his thoughts.
“Are you sure because you kept grimacing and – ”
“I know what happened, Liam. God, I…” He runs his hands through his damp hair, water droplets falling over his face and tracing the lines where the beginnings of a sunburn are forming. “My shoulder hurt today. You know it, and I know it. There’s no point in denying it. I just don’t want to talk about it anymore when I already got my ass handed to me by Archie and Al.”
“I’m worried about you,” Liam laments, the sound of his television in the background. The girls should be asleep by now, so it must be Elsa sitting quietly listening in to their conversation while she pretends that she isn’t. He doesn’t know why she does that when she and Liam don’t keep anything to themselves when it comes to him, their honorary third child. “You have been nothing but healthy you’re entire life, and then I convinced you to go sailing with me and – ”
“Please do not blame yourself for that accident anymore.”
“Why not? I’m the one who insisted we go on the weekend trip. I’m the one who – ”
“For fuck’s sake, Liam, it’s not your fault. The drunks who ran into us are the only people who have any kind of fault. We probably should have died that day, and we didn’t. I just got a fucked-up arm. I’ll take that over anything else. You don’t have to act like you’re my father taking responsibility for all of my actions.”
The moment he says the words, he regrets them.
How could he not?
Comparing Liam to their father is the absolute last thing that he wants to do. Liam, even with his faults and his judgmental ways, is nothing like Brennan. Brennan Jones never cared unless it benefitted himself, and Liam cares because it’s what good family does. It’s what people who love each other do.
His brother is the greatest man that he knows, and yet here he is taking all of his anger out on him because he can’t always play the sport that he loves like he used to.
“Our father never took any responsibility for our actions.”
“God,” he groans, running his hands through his hair again and yanking at the strands, “I don’t know why I said that. I just – ”
“You’re angry right now.” The way Liam says the words calmly, like they’re talking about the weather or a lunch up on the rooftop of his building, weirdly calms him down and makes his heart beat a little less erratically. “I would be angry too if the accident had kept me from doing something I love the way I had done it before. You got hurt, and I got a small scar on my knee. It’s not fair, and you can be angry. Just…don’t let that anger ruin your relationship with others.”
“I hate that you’re so wise sometimes.”
“It’s only some of the time,” Elsa pipes in, confirming his thought that she was in there simply listening in. “He’s an idiot most of the time, actually, and it drives me insane that the girls think he is the smartest man alive.”
“Hi, Els,” he laughs, opening the door to the bathroom to let some of the steam out and walking back into his hotel room. “You should really announce yourself before you start listening in on a conversation. I know you’re there.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want you to think I’m too nosy.”
Killian barks out a laugh at that because there’s no other word he could describe Elsa as other than nosy at this moment. Compassionate and kind also come to mind, but right now she’s nosy.
Shuffling through the room, he sits down at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping down underneath his weight, and picks up the remote to turn the television if only because he wants some background noise, so he doesn’t get too lost in his own thoughts.
“You and my brother are a packaged deal, darling,” he sighs, “and Addy and Lucy. I know that you are all far too much into my business.”
“It’s only because we care, little brother.”
“Younger, you asshole.”
“Language,” Elsa scolds.
“I’m twenty-eight years old and sitting in a hotel room by myself. I think I can say the word asshole.”
“Sorry, force of habit.”
“You’re such a mom,” he groans, falling back against the mattress, his towel coming undone the slightest bit.
“I did not push those two children out of my vagina to go by any other name.”
“Oh my God, stop. I don’t like to think about how those two were created.”
“Killian, childbirth is natural.”
“I’m talking about the creating, not the delivering.”
Liam and Elsa both start coughing before their coughs turn into laughter, the two of them sputtering and bickering back and forth with each other, and he sits up on the bed and starts mindlessly flipping through the channels until he finds a Dodgers game. Why is he watching baseball when he’s trying to get away from it all?
Because it is his life.
“You know, little brother,” Liam chokes out, emphasizing the little because he is, indeed, an asshole, “if you had a girlfriend, you would probably feel more comfortable talking about sex.”
“I am perfectly comfortable talking about sex. Just not yours.”
“I know but – ”
There’s a knock at the door, and he feels like he’s saved by the bell (or the knuckles) at the sound, not really wanting to have this conversation with Liam even if he goaded them into it and if it’s more pleasant than talking about his shoulder.
“Hey, guys,” he starts, already getting up and tying his towel a little tighter around his waist, “there’s someone at my door. I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Let us know if you need to talk,” Elsa sighs, quietly echoed by Liam. “We love you.”
“Love you guys too.”
He hangs up the phone and places it on his dresser before crossing the room and looking through the peephole to see who is knocking on his door.
It’s Emma.
She’s standing just outside his door in an oversized white sweater and a pair of leggings, her hair pulled up in a messy bun, and he can tell by the way that she’s unable to stand still that she’s anxious. Immediately, he twists all of the locks and swings open the door, catching it before it slams into the wall.
“Swan,” he smiles, already reaching forward and tugging her inside, looking from side to side in the hallway to make sure no one is around.
“Hey, so I – ”
He stops her before she can finish her sentence, closing the door behind them and quickly dipping his head down to slide his lips over hers, just the barest hint of a touch in greeting but enough to make all of his body begin to stand at attention.
“Hi,” he whispers when he pulls back.
Emma’s lashes flutter as she looks up at him, a little redness of her cheeks. “Hi. I’m guessing you don’t mind that I dropped by then.”
“Truthfully, I’m very upset about it.”
“You’re a liar,” she laughs, adjusting the bag that she’s holding. Wow, he didn’t even notice the bag. His mind is all over the place tonight. “You’re also not wearing any clothes. Why are you not wearing any clothes?”
A shiver runs down his spine as Emma’s eyes glance over him, very obviously cataloging his body in the same way that he’s done to hers in the past. The room is more heated, the steam from the bathroom permeating into the bedroom, and he knows that it would be so damn easy to step a little bit more into Emma’s space and capture her mouth with his as his hands explored her body the way that her eyes are exploring him. It would be so damn easy to forget about the difficulties of this day, to forget about the ache in his shoulder, and let his body do all of the talking that it couldn’t do today.
He could prove that his body still works, that he can still do good with it, that he can still bring himself pleasure, bring Emma pleasure.
…but he can’t do that. Not yet.
It’s not the right time when he’s riddled in self-doubt and frustration, and even if Emma was ready, he wants to do this right. He doesn’t want to use her and his affections for her to make him forget everything for a night.
They need more time to get to know each other.
When the hell was the last time he wanted to get to know a woman well before he slept with her?
Why would he even ask himself that question when he knows the answer?
“Well, darling,” he finally sighs, backing up from her to give himself room to breathe all the while he makes sure to flash her a grin, “I did this thing called showering, and I don’t often do it with clothes.”
“That’s smart. It’d probably get a little messy like that.”
“Most definitely. What’s in the bag?”
“Oh,” she gasps, her shoulders shrugging up the slightest bit as her eyes light up, the darkness turning back to light green. “So, I didn’t mean to be presumptuous or whatever by coming here, but you didn’t seem to have the best day, and I figured I would bring you, like, a snack or whatever to help you out. Then I thought maybe I could stay for a bit, but if you want to tell me to fuck off, I can be back in my room in a minute.”
How in the world does he find everything she does so charming? He was in a piss-poor mood, still is, and even though he wasn’t exceptionally friendly to her when she was doing interviews in the locker room, she’s being more than kind to him.
“Love, the absolute last thing I would do is tell you to fuck off. I’m glad you decided to come see me even if I don’t know how you know my room number.”
She winks before turning around and placing the paper bag down. “You’re not the only one who knows how to charm people to get information.”
“Apparently not. What kind of spoils have you brought me?”
“Totally ignoring the fact that you said spoils,” she laughs, pulling out a bag of salt and vinegar chips and then several snack cakes. And then one banana which doesn’t seem to fit at all. “But I raided a vending machine and also the hotel front desk for the banana, and figured maybe we could pig out a bit since I know for a fact both of us are going running tomorrow.”
“Do you have strawberry short cakes in that pile?”
He steps closer to her, and she holds up a package of Pop-Tarts, strawberry flavored. “Is this close enough?”
“Only because we’re in a pinch.” Killian takes it out of her hand, and tosses it over to the bed before picking up his bag of clothes and sliding it into the bathroom. “I’m just going to put on some pants and then we’ll – ”
There’s another knock on his door, and this time he’s not saved by the bell. He doesn’t want this conversation to end. Emma stops what she’s doing, dropping the chips she’s holding back onto the desk, and she turns to look at him with wide eyes and parted lips, panic written across all of her features.
“What do we do?” she whispers, her voice probably echoing from here all the way back up to the east coast.
“I’m just going to ignore it,” he says quietly, stepping back over to the door to look to see who it is. “Oh shit.”
“What?” Emma whispers, stepping closer only for him to hold out his arm in front of her.
There’s another knock, this time really more of a pounding, and then Ariel’s voice comes through the wood. “I know you’re in your room, Killian. Open the door.”
Emma’s eyes widen even more, and if he wasn’t currently freaking out over what to do, he’d laugh at the comic relief over the whole thing. “Get in the bathroom, love.”
She nods her head, quickly picking up the food she brought in and scrambling into the bathroom, closing the door behind her at the same time that he opens his hotel door, his hand furiously scratching at his ear.
“What, A?”
“Well, that’s a way to greet me.” She immediately moves past him and into the room, never one for understanding personal space. “Why do you have a package of Pop-Tarts on your bed?”
“I got it from the vending machine,” he lies, closing his door behind her and walking back over to his bed. “I was hungry but didn’t feel like ordering anything in. Why are you here? Where’s Eric?”
Ariel rolls her eyes and stretches out onto his bed, picking up the remote and immediately changing the TV from the game he was watching. “Believe it or not, I am capable of being in a separate space than my husband.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
She simply waves him away. “Whatever. I just wanted to check on you. I know you get all moody after losses, and you didn’t come join everyone for dinner. Also, can you put some clothes on while we have this conversation? I love you, but I don’t need to see every bit of you.”
“You’re the one who came barging into my room,” he groans as his mind runs through about fifteen scenarios on how to get Ariel out of his room, “but fine. I’ll go change.”
Killian steps away from his bed and walks the few steps to the bathroom door, quietly opening it up and immediately shutting it behind him in case Ariel for some reason decided to move behind him.
This is by far the weirdest thing that has happened to him this year. He’s hiding his girlfri – he’s hiding Emma in his hotel bathroom.
And she’s sitting on the countertop with her legs crossed over each other eating the bag of chips like that’s not the loudest food she could have chosen.
“What are you doing?” she hisses. Putting the chips down.
“Ariel has requested I put on some clothes.”
“But there’s no place for me to move in here so you can do that.”
Killian rolls his eyes at her flustered movements and far too loud hushed voice. It’s what has him turning on the sink before he leans forward and presses a kiss to Emma’s cheek. “I can slip my sweatpants on under my towel. I promise I’m not going to scar you.”
“You wouldn’t scar me. I just – ”
He reaches down to his bag, grabbing a pair of pants and pulling them on underneath his towel, his mind fighting with him to think of every delicious and dirty thought about having Emma in the shower, and tugs them up before dropping his towel to the ground and finding a t-shirt to wear. How is his bag so disorganized?
“What was that now, love?”
“Nothing,” she hisses, blushing. “How long am I supposed to stay in here? I’m kind of freaking out.”
“You’ve got food, water, and a bathroom. I think you’ll be good for a week or two.”
“Asshole.”
“I try.” He flashes her a grin before leaning forward and quickly gliding his lips over hers and tasting the salt and vinegar of her kiss. Damn does he love that he can do that. “I’ll try to get her to leave as soon as possible, okay? Be quiet on your chip eating.”
Emma scrunches up her nose before sticking her tongue out at him and grabbing another chip with one hand while the other turns the faucet off. He sighs, amused and exasperated all at once, before opening the bathroom door and stepping out only to find Ariel eating the Pop-Tarts.
He kind of wanted those even if there are a million better ways to consume five hundred calories.
“Why’d you turn your water on?”
“Didn’t want you to hear me pee.”
“Fair enough.” She shrugs her shoulders and pats the spot on his bed next to her. He takes the small desk chair instead. “Tell me why you’re in such a bad mood.”
“I’m not.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not a liar.”
(He is a liar.)
“Okay,” Ariel murmurs as she takes another bite, “so if you’re not in a bad mood, would you at least like to explain why you didn’t come to dinner?”
He swivels in the chair a bit, his legs antsy to tap and stay moving, but that’ll make him seem anxious to Ariel. That’s the last thing that he wants when he is, indeed, anxious for her to get out of the room.
“I – I felt like I let everyone down today,” he admits, leaving out his own self-loathing about his injury. Half-truths. He’s always speaking in half-truths. “I played a shitty game. I was in a bad mood. I was awful company and didn’t want anything to do with anyone. So, I kind of figured I’d come back here and work that out on my own instead of making everyone else miserable.”
“Killian Jones, you know for a fact that we are not miserable around you. At least Eric and I aren’t. Neither are Robin or Will or even August. The only person who would take issue with you being all pissy is Arthur and that’s because he’s got his own set of issues.”
He scoffs and closes his eyes as he stretches his legs out. She’s right. He knows that she is because she’s always right. She’s basically another version of Elsa in that aspect.
“I know. I’m…you know how I get, A. I’ll be fine. Tomorrow, I’ll come to whatever team-mandated meal you arrange.”
“That’s all I ask.” She rises from the bed, picking up the Pop-Tart she hasn’t eaten, and walks over to him to briefly press her lips against his temple. “I’m going to let you wallow, okay? But tomorrow after you’ve finished your practice, we have to talk about your calendar for the rest of May and June. I’ve got some charity stuff lined up for you.”
“I will be at your beck and call.”
“As you should be. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
“Will do.”
Ariel nods her head and smiles before walking out the door, letting it slam shut behind her. Letting out a sigh of relief, he places his face in his hands and simply takes a moment to breathe and let his mind stop racing about how horrible of a human being he is for lying to everyone.
He’s the worst, isn’t he? He has to be.
When he’s finished with his little pity party, he sits up and raises his fist to the wall, banging on it to let Emma know that she can come out of the bathroom.
The door clicks, and she emerges, flipping the locks on his door and then walking toward him, stepping into his space until he’s pulling her in by the hips to stand in the open space between his legs, his head resting against her stomach.
Maybe he’s not quite finished with his pity party.
“So,” Emma hums, her feet moving into his line of vision as her hands scratch at that back of his head, which may very well be the best fucking feeling in the world, “apparently everyone in the world knows you’re in a bad mood, and you don’t want to talk to any of us about it.”
“Do you want to talk every time you’re in a bad mood?”
“Hell no.”
“Exactly.” He leans back in the chair, the loss of her touch immediate. “I think I just…you want to watch a movie with me or something?”
“Can I pick it out?”
“Yeah, Swan, you can.”
They settle down onto the mattress, pulling the thin sheet that’s at the bottom of the bed over them instead of settling under the covers, and Emma tucks herself into his side so that her head rests on his collarbone and her hand is covering his stomach, a leg tucked between his. In all of the time they’ve spent together in the past two weeks, he thinks this is the most comfortable she’s ever been around him.
He likes it.
It’s…refreshing. He keeps thinking that, thinking about how this is so different than how he’s been the past few years. If he was with a woman, it was to sleep with her, to scratch an itch. It was not to settle down and watch Men in Black because despite insisting that she wanted to pick the movie, Emma refused to let him pay for them to rent a newer movie.
And obviously he wants to sleep with Emma, his mind racing with thoughts of what exactly that would be like to do to her, but he’s good just like this.
This is by far the best part of his day, and Florida isn’t seeming like such a hell hole anymore as his fingers play with the wisps of her hair that have fallen out of her bun and her hands toy with his mom’s ring that’s fallen outside of his t-shirt. He doesn’t even think she realizes that she’s doing it.
“The ring was my mom’s.”
Emma stops her movements, her fingers stilling, before looking up at him, her face only lightened by the glow of the television now that the sun has set, and everything is covered in darkness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess with it.”
“Swan, it’s fine,” he promises, reaching down to take her hand and place it back against his chest and against the ring. He smiles a little, the left side of his lips curving up, to try to reassure her of the fact that it is fine. He doesn’t mind. “I simply figured you wanted to know why I wear a ring around my neck. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m secretly married.”
“Well, I wasn’t thinking that until right about now.”
Later. He’ll tell her about Milah later. He can already tell that he’s about to tell her too much about his family tonight. She doesn’t need to know about his ex-girlfriend too.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know.” She pats his chest and readjusts herself so that she can look at him a little better. How are her eyes so green? “So, tell me about your mom. If you want to.”
“Her name was Amelia,” he starts out, scooting down a little further so that he and Emma are nearly eye to eye, “and she was just…she was amazing. I have a terrible memory, so I don’t remember much, but I remember that she had this red hair that would make Ariel jealous and this big belly laugh that kind of reminds me of Liam. I don’t – I guess I never thought about it before, but she was really into baking, which is probably why I eventually came around to it. That’s likely the only thing I got from her other than the red in my beard.”
He knows that it’s not true, that he is more like her than he’s willing to admit, but it’s not what he usually thinks about. It’s not what Liam talks about either even though he was seventeen when she died.
“How did she – ”
“Cancer,” he murmurs, tracing Emma’s pointer finger until he lifts their hands and treads his fingers through hers, squeezing their hands together. “It was very sudden, not a lot of time to say goodbye, you know?”
Emma presses forward and brushes a kiss to his knuckles. He’s sure it’s because no one ever knows what to say that, and Emma is likely no exception. “She would be so proud of you, I think. I know that’s probably overstepping my boundaries to say that, but I don’t see how anyone could not be proud of you for working so hard to achieve your dreams and for being so good to your family.”
Maybe she’s the exception then.
He’s not sure that his mom would be proud of him, not lately.
“Thank you, darling. I’m not sure if that’s true, but thank you.”
Emma’s brows pinch, her lips pursing. “How could that not be true, twenty-nine?”
Because he’s a self-loathing bastard who can never seem to bury his demons even when he needs to.
“Do you want to know part of the reason why I was in such a shitty mood today?”
He can’t tell her the full truth, but the half truth seems okay today.
“Only if you want to tell me.”
He gulps, nodding his head and inching further down to bed to tangle his legs with Emma’s and nearly brush his nose against hers. He’s twenty-eight, but there’s something akin to a childlike belief running through him that nothing can invade the quietness of this hotel room right now.
“I haven’t spoken to my father since I was nineteen years old,” he admits, bringing their hands up to rest between their chests. “That seems like a shitty thing to do when I was only down to one parent, but my dad is an asshole, you know? He was the one who signed me up to play little league ball, and every single day I was outside running or practicing my batting or pitching once I changed to that track. He pushed me so damn hard, which I always thought was a good thing, until I’d lose a game or be a minute slow on my run and he’d make me do everything all over again. I was eleven, and the man had me on a meal plan to make sure I was developing with the sole purpose of playing ball.”
He takes a breath, blinking away the tears that aren’t there but might as well be.
“He became obsessed. Completely and totally obsessed. And since Liam was long gone from the house, he was my only influence. I did what he said when he said it and played it off as it all being part of the game that I loved. But he pushed and pushed and pushed until I hated waking up every day. He screamed at me, calling me a pathetic fucker, told me that I was ruining his life by not being good enough. It was just this constant stream of hatred spewing out of his mouth, and when I got to Vandy, he started betting on my games, started taking bribes and offers and so many things that could have taken the game away from me forever. He’s a piss poor excuse for a dad, and it took me nineteen years to realize that I didn’t have to be subjected to his shit. So, I just…I cut him off. Liam and I both did. And today I – I was mad about how I played, and I took it out on Liam by saying he was not my father and some other stuff. That always kind of spirals us, and that’s why I was so annoyed when you first got here.”
That was too much.
That was far too much.
Killian should have kept his mouth shut, should have never let all of that out even if it’s skimming the surface. Emma likely already thinks he’s insane, that he’s got enough issues, and he just revealed so many more.
Good things in his life do not stay, and Emma is most definitely a good thing.
And he’s not even telling her about his arm.
“Your dad is a fucking asshole,” she spits, untangling their hands and running her palms up over the skin at his neck until she’s softly gliding her thumb underneath his eye. “I can’t imagine how much that has to mess you up in your mind. He took something you loved and twisted it. He was not what a parent should be, and you have every right to be upset about that. I’ve never met Liam, but I know that he loves you and that he understands how you tick. I’m sure he’s not mad at you for being upset with him when he understands your anger was coming from something else.”
Tell her, tell her, tell her.
His mind is screaming at him, but he can under no circumstances tell her everything. Not about Milah, not about his arm, not about all of his thoughts and feelings.
In time.
He’ll tell her in time.
They’re so early in this thing that they’re doing, and even if it’s been awhile for him, he knows that two weeks in is not the time to dumb every bit of baggage that he’s carrying.
“Thank you, love,” he sighs, closing his eyes and pressing forward to slowly guide his lips over hers, another silent thank you for simply being here. It’s nice to have someone on the road with him. Honestly and truly. “I’m sure this is not how you imagined this night going.”
“What?” Emma laughs, a tentative smile curling on her lips. “You think I didn’t come in here expecting you to tell me about your shitty dad as we watch Will Smith kill some aliens? I feel like that’s a pretty normal night.”
“So this is normal for you then?”
“Staying in bed as much as possible?”
“Absolutely.”
He hums, inching closer and closer to her so that their foreheads brush together and his nose is pressing into her cheek as he speaks. “I think I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
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Things done differently 2
Supernatural RPF
Link to Chapter 1
Words: 3,979
Pairings: Richard Speight Jr x Reader
_____
The next morning you woke up with Richard’s arm around your waist. The two of you had spent most of the evening lying snuggled in your bed. You were afraid that he would want to rush into a physical relationship, however, to her relief, Richard didn’t even try. Instead, he lay pleased with just the contact. As much as your hormones were begging Richard silently to make love to you, saying no seemed like the best thing..
The 9:30 alarm going off made Richard jump. You silently laughed hearing him mutter a string of cuss words.
“Still not a morning person are you?”
Richard shook his head as he pressed his face into your hair.
“That will never change, sugar.”
You let Richard lay a moment or two longer. Part of you dreaded facing your parent’s barbecue that day. You knew that there were definitely going to be some fireworks between Richard and Andrew. That was just a given! You knew that Andrew would never accept Richard now. Even if Richard turned out to be the perfect boyfriend and father, Andrew would never be cool with him. That was just how Andrew Carmichael was. He had never been the person to let someone who offended him or someone in his family slide by unscathed. It didn’t matter to Andrew that you told him how things actually went with Richard. In Andrew’s mind, Richard should have come crawling back to you begging you to take him back then proceed to kiss your ass for the next however many years. You chuckled at that thought! Neither Richard nor yourself would have any part of that!
If Andrew had it his way, Richard would never again be involved with you or the baby-to- be’s life. He would stay in California and act as the whole relationship never happened. You knew better than to even think that would be how Richard would handle the situation. If he didn’t plan on being involved he wouldn’t have wasted time in coming to you the previous night. He would have never sat there looking so miserable. There was just a whole list of things that he wouldn’t do.
“What are you going to say to Andrew today?”
You asked softly. Richard took a deep breath from behind you. He was quiet for a moment before gently rolling you onto your side.
“I’ll behave if he does. You don’t need all of that shit going on anyway.”
You smiled. Richard was definitely being the adult here. You knew that he wanted nothing more than to give Andrew the ass chewing of a lifetime! Richard could do it too. You had seen Richard and Andrew have their fair share of spats in the past. For some reason, Andrew and Richard just didn’t click and this was odd because Richard could get along with almost anyone. Even if he didn’t care too much for said person he was still for the most part polite. When it came to Andrew, Richard’s attitude was another story. He didn’t like the way that Andrew seemed to want to control every aspect of your life.
“Older brother or not he needs to shut the hell up. He bosses you around like you are five. You are both on the same level at that recording studio and he thinks you know nothing.”
You knew that Andrew was hard to get along with! He always had been. Andrew had always been arrogant and full of himself. He often left you wondering how his wife Ashton could tolerate him. The thought was always justifiable once one discovered how Ashton truly was. She was a little mouse of a woman who didn’t know how to say no or enough. She let Andrew control every detail of their life. You had considered telling Ashton numerous times that she needed to tell Andrew to take that stick he had shoved up his ass out. Nothing would come of it though.
Marrying a good looking music executive that made more money a year than you had seen in a lifetime was hard to speak up against apparently. Ashton knew not to bite the hand that fed her! You had always pitied the woman and did whatever you could to make her feel comfortable. You remembered the day that your mother had taken Ashton to pick out her wedding dress. The poor woman was in tears when she saw the prices of the gowns. It took both yourself and your mother’s gentle yet firm assurance that price was no issue to get Ashton to even try on a gown.
“What are you thinking about?”
Richard’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You sighed.
“Just thinking about Ashton. I don’t know how she puts up with Andrew on the daily. I know he’s my brother and don’t get me wrong I love him but if i was married to him he would have been kicked out a long time ago.”
Richard smirked.
“I couldn’t be with him if I were a woman. If I was on the other side of that playground and he came my direction I think I would run. It’s weird enough that he kind of looks like Matt. Attitude, however, is totally different. What I don’t get how is he such an asshole and you are just precious?”
You laughed slowly sitting up.
“Some in the music industry say that I am an asshole too. Apparently, my family has a bit of a reputation of being cutthroat.”
Richard chuckled.
“Darlin you kind of have to be. You have random ass strangers walking up to you and bursting into song. That would have to get old after a while. Not to mention you have to reject people who have dreams of being something that they clearly aren’t meant to be. I’ve heard you reject people and you are a lot nicer than you think. Andrew is like a fucking Simon Cowell on steroids.”
You laughed at that.
“ You’re biased when it comes to me.”
Richard shrugged as he got out of bed and started looking around for his abandoned jeans.
“Yeah, maybe so but I’m usually right. So, is it almost time for me to go wreck your brother’s day?”
You got out of bed and half waddled to the closet to find something to wear. After a moment, you glanced back at Richard with a smile.
“I invited Rob too ...in case he needs to talk you down or something.”
Richard grinned obviously happy that his best friend got to tag along and join in on the fun that was about to take place.
“Sugar, you do realize that is just going to be like adding some more fuel to the fire right?
You nodded. You knew that Rob would back Richard up and that was part of the reason for wanting to bring the guy along.
“Well, maybe Andrew needs to be knocked down off of his high horse. Between the two of you, I think that could be done. Too bad we don’t have time to get Matt here then it would really be a party.”
Richard looked pretty excited at the thoughts himself.
“I love the way you think.”
The doorbell ringing pulled both of you from the conversation at hand..
“That will probably be Rob.”
You said with a smile as you pulled a long black sleeveless dress out of the closet. Richard sighed.
“I had plans of coming over there and romancing you off your feet but now that isn’t going to happen thanks to Rob.”
Your eyes rolled up to Richard as he walked over and gently pressed you against the wall.
“Is that so?”
You asked as Richard kissed you softly.
“Mhm….I had some good plans up my sleeve.”
And there it is! You thought. You knew Richard would want sex soon enough! At the moment, however, you didn’t care if it would be jumping ahead too quickly. All you could see right now was the lust written all over Richard’s face as closed the space between them.
“Rich, are you sure you want to do that with me looking like this?”
Richard frowned.
“You’re beautiful. I don’t care if your pregnant or not. That’s my kid. I put it there. I am not some shallow prick that wouldn’t want to touch you because you're knocked up. If Rob wasn’t down there repeatedly ringing the doorbell like a lunatic I would make love to you right here.”
You swallowed as Richard’s mouth closed around your pulse point gently sucking.
“Richard ...what about Rob?”
Richard groaned as cupped your breasts.
“He will be okay for a moment. He can check your mail or something.”
You giggled pulling Richard’s face back to yours for another kiss.
“Tonight…when we get back…you can have all you want.”
Richard looked again like a child at Christmas.
“Sounds good to me. I’ll go let Robbie in before he short circuits your doorbell.”
The ride to your parent's house didn’t take long. Rob sat in the back obviously nervous about the upcoming situation. He fidgeted every few moments clearly trying to keep himself calm.
“Rob would you calm down? Nothing is going to happen?”
Richard said looking in the rearview mirror at his best friend’s nervous expression. Rob looked up with a frown that mirrored what he did when Richard decided that it was time for a Dickchat.
“That is what you say all the time.”
Richard smirked knowing Rob was right. He had to hand it to Rob. The man seemed to know what Richard was going to do sometimes for he himself did. You looked back at Rob with a reassuring smile.
“Rob, it will work out. If Andrew starts his crap it may be for the best. He needs to be knocked down a level or two from time to time.”
Rob nervously laughed.
“Rich, you can knock him down a level or two and I’ll tell you when to shut up.”
“Deal.”
Richard said before turning into the driveway.
Richard had no issues overseeing your mother. She was a nice lady. His only worry was John D was going to go ballistic upon seeing him and start shooting. Now that he knew that John D was unstable due to his retirement his worry was a little more intense. That poor swan didn’t fair to well the day before. What did that say for Richard when your father saw him? The last way that Richard wanted to check out was like a swan at a country club.
You took a breath seeing Andrew’s Range Rover in the parking lot. You only hoped that since his children would be there; your brother would keep it down some. The last thing that you wanted was for your nieces to see what was going on! You didn’t want your 6 and 4-year-old nieces to witness their father being for lack of a better term an ass. The 6-month-old wouldn’t worry too much but the older ones definitely would!
“Well here we are.”
You said softly. Richard looked over at you before taking your hand in his.
“I mean it when I say I am going to be good ...well as good as possible.”
You were glad that Richard wasn’t making a promise that he wouldn’t be able to keep. When it came to your honor, their relationship, or anything else that Richard held dear that particular moment he wouldn’t be the least bit afraid to tell Andrew to shut the hell up or he was going to regret being born.
Walking up to the front door, you kept your hand intertwined with Richard’s. As you reached out to open the door Richard grabbed your hand before pulling you into a kiss. You seemed to forget everything that was going on and what the two of you were here to do. Instead, your arms were around Richard’s shoulders deepening the kiss.
“Uh guys…I’m still here.”
Rob said awkwardly. Richard looked over his shoulder at his friend who looked beyond uncomfortable. Rob had been out with the two of you a few times and witnessed this same behavior. Every time it left him looking around awkwardly.
“Sorry, Rob.”
Richard replied innocently as the door opened. You looked ahead coming face to face with Andrew. Your brother’s dark brown eyes focused on you. You were still wrapped in Richard’s arms..
“Christ you have got to be kidding me.”
He said coldly. Richard smirked, ready to start letting the sass fly.
“Not April fools?”
He said with an extra sassy tone. Andrew opened his mouth ready to start but was stopped when your mother walked to the door.
“Y/n, there you are. We were wondering when you were.”
Andrew scoffed,
“Probably under him.”
Your mother’s eyes narrowed on her eldest son..
“Andrew, don’t start.”
She hissed. Your mother mirrored your expression of disapproval.
“Go find your children, Andrew. Katy was trying to pull the living room drapes down last time that I saw her.”
Andrew muttered a few more things under his breath before turning and walking back into the house.
“Sorry about him. It’s good to see you again Richard. Hello Rob.”
Richard nodded.
“Nice to see you too, Susan.”
Your mother turned walking into the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder at you with an approving smile. Susan had liked Richard from the beginning and when the break up happened she had practically begged you to pick up the phone and call him.
Richard kept his arm around your waist. Partially because he liked the contact and also he knew that Andrew was watching like a hawk from the other room. You immediately felt uncomfortable when you noticed Andrew whispering to his wife with a livid expression on his face.
“Ignore him dear. He will have to get over himself eventually.”
Susan said looking up from the lemonade that she was stirring. You snorted.
“Mom, he will never get over himself.”
Susan chuckled.
“That is true. Well anyhow, no sense in letting him ruin the day with his negative attitude. How are you feeling, honey?”
You shrugged.
“I’m fine. If she would get her little foot out of my ribs I would be really happy.”
Susan chuckled.
“You used to do that to me all the time. You, my dear, are getting your payback. I’ll be right back.”
Once your mother walked away Richard’s hand stroked over your stomach.
“She does move around a lot.”
You nodded.
“She goes crazy at midnight. I hope that is not a sign of the times ahead.”
Richard laughed.
“Better get some strong coffee, I think.”
Before you could respond, your father walked in the room. He smiled immediately seeing her.
“There you are baby! I was wondering where you were at! I’ve been talking to grumpy in there and let's just say he knows how to kill a vibe. You’re looking well now. Glad to see you don’t look so damn peaky!.”
You eagerly hugged your father while noticing Andrew giving him some major side-eye. John D meanwhile, had focused his attention on Richard.
“Hey, you’re back.”
Richard nodded noticing Rob who looked like he was ready to turn and run.
“Yes sir I am.”
Richard said confidently. John D nodded.
“Well that’s damn good. Come on I want to talk to you.”
Your eyes widened.
“Dad...”
John D shook his head.
“You’ll be okay without him for five minutes.”
Richard shrugged before following your father into his home office. He had briefly made eye
contact with Andrew, who was smiling a little too eagerly.
“Fuck.”
Richard grumbled as he closed the door behind him.
Walking into John D’s office reminded Richard of being at Bass Pro Shop or Cabelas. Guns and hunting trophies were all over the walls. Richard could only hope that these weapons were on safety. John D sat down in an oversized leather chair behind a huge mahogany desk.
“Ignore Andrew, son. He is just a horses ass.”
Richard smiled slightly wondering if it would be okay to say that he agreed with that assessment. He decided to see what the conversation with your father was going to be like he would hold off on dissing Andrew too badly.
“He’s all right. Nothing that I haven’t seen before.”
Richard replied. John D nodded.
“So I see that you found out about the baby.”
Richard nodded, immediately feeling a little more on edge.
“I have.”
John D’s eyes were focused on Richard as he leaned back in the chair.
“I’m going to speak my piece then we are going to move on like the men that we are. I know that you had no idea about Y/n’s condition when you left. She’s told me all about that situation and I think it is important that you know I don’t blame you. I love my daughter. She is my pride and joy but she has a lot of her mother’s tendencies and one of those is when she gets backed into a corner she panics. However, you know now and what you do with that is up to you. If you get back with Y/n things better be different this go around. That’s my grandbaby that cookin in there and she isn’t growing up with fighting parents. If you want to be with Y/n,I am fully okay with it just keep this in mind that’s my baby girl in there and I would die for her. I take care of my own. You’re from here and I think you know what I am getting at.”
Richard nodded considering his words before he started speaking.
“I do. You are 100% crystal clear. Furthermore, John, I think you know that if I had any idea that Y/n was pregnant I would have never left her alone in the first place. I’m not leaving her now. I know my track record probably isn’t looking to squeaky clean for you….”
John D held up a hand.
“To hell with the track record! You’re here! If you knew and you wasn’t here that would be a different story.”
Richard internally sighed with relief. He had been worried that John D would go on some power tirade and tell him that he didn’t want to see him with you. Instead, he was sitting here encouraging it.
“I love her and I’m not going to let her or our baby down again.”
John D nodded, appearing pleased.
“Sounds good to me. You and I are square then.”
20 minutes later Richard had gone outside to rejoin Roband yourself. The two were sitting at the outside table that Susan had expertly decorated. Your eyes widened when he sat down beside you.
“All good? You are in one piece so I am assuming that it went well?”
You questioned. Richard wrapped his hand around yours.
“Everything’s fine. There is nothing to worry about.”
You were relieved as your father sat down across the table. He sipped on the glass of whiskey that Susan had put in front of him. Andrew meanwhile eyes his father coldly.
“Dad I don’t think you need to be drinking that. Thank goodness we have no swans here.”
John D looked at his oldest son with a raised eyebrow.
“Better be glad you ain’t no swan you giant sissy boy.”
Richard had to pinch himself to stop from laughing. The look on Andrew’s face was the perfect ice cream on the cake.
“Thanks, dad.”
Andrew mumbled coldly before looking at Richard.
“So, how long are you in town for? I’m sure you need to get back to California to do whatever it is that you do. I am sure that ghost show just isn’t the same without you.”
Richard leaned back in his chair. He could hear Rob muttering about keeping it cool.
“I don’t plan on leaving Y/n again if that is what you are getting at. As far as Supernatural...that is the beauty of airplanes, Andrew, if I need to go back to something I can go. Y/n can go with me if she wants to.”
Andrew rolled his eyes.
“Pregnant woman on an airplane that sounds like a bright idea.”
Richard watched Andrew closely. He knew exactly what the little punk was doing.
“It’s not like I am going to put her on a camel. Lots of pregnant people fly. Andrew, I get that you don’t like me and quite frankly I don’t care. You can kiss my ass. I’m not going anywhere and you might as well get over yourself. Y/n doesn’t have to do what you say. You may think that you are god’s gift and that’s okay. Probably best to let you live in your little fantasy world. After all, they do know you there. You may be business partners with your sister but you aren’t bossing her around. I’ll see to that.”
Andrew looked like the was ready to blow. His ears had turned red as he scowled right at Richard.
“You’re right. I don’t like you. I don’t think you are good enough for Y/n. You are just going to bail on her like that character you play in Supernatural. You’ll just run when the tough gets going.”
As Richard started to stand Rob reached up pulling him down with wide eyes.
“Andrew you need to shut the hell up.”
You said through gritted teeth.
“I don’t have to do anything.”
He said back coldly. Having enough of the conversation at hand, your father leaned back so he could see his oldest son’s face.
“Andrew, don’t make me shoot you son. You and I have had a conversation about this. I don’t want another peep out of you.”
Andrew looked at his father with a gaping expression before he sunk back into his chair not daring to look at anyone else. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before Richard did something to hurt you and no one would listen to him to prevent it.
The rest of the afternoon was peaceful for the most part. Andrew stayed until after the dinner was over before whisking his family home. You were shocked that he stayed that long. Normally after your father laid an ass-chewing on Andrew he would bailout.
The ride back home was relatively quiet. You looked over at Richard with a satisfied smile. You knew that he could have given Andrew a lot worse but he didn’t. No longer did you need some grand sign to know that he cared about you. Everything that he said was perfect! If Andrew had more comments then the man would be preaching to a deaf choir.
“You okay?”
Richard asked softly. You nodded with a satisfied smile.
“I’m perfect.”
Richard’s free had tightened on yours.
“So I guess this is the point where we go public. People are going to start putting shit together and when the baby gets here it will all be kind of obvious.”
Richard was relieved when you smiled. He knew this was what you wanted in the very beginning. You didn’t want any hiding and now you didn’t either. If someone had something to say about what they had that would just be too damn bad.
“Well time to get this party started then.”
________
@brokencasbutt67-writer
@supernaturalways
@fand0maniac
@shaylybaby2032
@tas898
@li0nh34rt
@summer-novak
@emiwrites3reads
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@fandom-trash-worth-it
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#Supernatural RPF#richard speight jr#rob benedict#rpf fanfics#richard speight jr rpf#Matt Cohen#richard speight jr fan fiction#things done differently#story update
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If You’re Gone (Girls Talk Boys part 32)
I think I've already lost you
I think you're already gone
I think I'm finally scared now
You think I'm weak, I think you're wrong
If you're gone, maybe it's time to come home
There's an awful lot of breathing room
But I can hardly move
If you're gone, baby you need to come home, come home
There's a little bit of something me
In everything in you
Ashton got to Cal's about 20 minutes after Cher texted him. He knocked but when he got no answer he opened the door and let himself in, the place was a wreck. Calum had flipped his coffee table over slinging things across the room and he'd kicked a hole in the drywall by his front door. Ashton carefully made his way around the mess hearing Calum upstairs. He saw the refrigerator door open and went to close it before heading up noticing the whiskey Calum had just bought was not there.
Ashton jogged up the stairs and peeked into Calum's bedroom. Seeing no sign of man or beast as he made his way down the hall. Calum had a 2 bedroom unit and had turned the second room into a gym/music room. He was sitting at his piano with his back to the door and Duke at his feet half slurring half singing “If You’re Gone” by Matchbox 20. Ashton shook his head, he knew this was gonna be a mess. He put a hand on Calum's shoulder causing him to look up with a tear streaked face and unfocused eyes.
“What happened?” Ashton hadn't ever seen Cal look this dejected.
“I fucked up,” Calum hung his head and sniffled fighting back tears again scooting over so Ashton could sit next to him.
“Did Camille break up with you? Cal I don't understand what's going on,” Ashton was puzzled.
“I acted like a complete asshole towards Camille, and she's probably never going to speak to me again. She's already blocked my number on her phone and all her social media,” Calum slumped against his shoulder and reached for the bottle before Ashton grabbed it.
“Getting sick everywhere won't make you feel better tomorrow” Ashton told him taking a swig himself draping his arm across his friend as Calum alternated between babbling and crying trying to explain the fight with Camille.
Cher pulled into the airport's unloading zone and took a deep breath. Both women had been crying as Camille told Cher everything that went down. Camille was devastated by the argument and pissed beyond words but Cher knew she had the ability to compartmentalize and decide she wasn't dealing with Calum right now. With him deleted and blocked she had to focus on work and put her personal life on hold until she got back. Cher had always admired Camille's ability to just that, but also knew it was her way of avoiding dealing with her problems. She helped Camille with her bags and gave her a hug.
“You're gonna be great Cam, don't let this shit get to you. Calum knows he fucked up,” Cher cupped Camille's face in her hands sharing the sadness in her friend's eyes.
With a flash the sorrow vanished and Camille was angry and again Cher knew she was more comfortable being mad, as Camille didn't do sadness well.
“Are you guys done? He thinks you broke up with him,” Cher asked her.
“No I mean, I don't think so. He really fucked up and pulling this right now made it so much worse. I'll deal with it when I get back. Thank you for texting Ashton to go check on him,” Camille shook the thoughts out of her head and put her game face on.
“I'll see you when you get back,” Cher gave her another quick hug before waving to Stephen who was already waiting for Camille in the terminal.
Before Camille made it to the escalator to head up to check in her phone dinged. Cher had sent her a $10 Starbucks gift card knowing Camille needed a pick me up.
Cher checked her messages seeing two missed calls from Calum and a text from Ashton.
Cal's drinking and in a bad way. I'm gonna stay over here at least until he passes out. He tried to call you, Camille has him blocked. Did they really break up?
Cher answered him
Camille won't talk to him until she gets back. He acted like a complete asshole and I don't want to talk to him either. Camille hasn't decided what to do yet I'll explain later.
Ashton set his phone down. “The girls don't want to talk to you right now.”
Calum nodded, he was now sitting on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest. Duke kept nudging at him and Calum would almost smile. Ashton had gotten some of the story out of him but Calum couldn't bring himself to repeat the worst he'd said. After a couple hours of drinking and listening to sad songs Ashton put him to bed and texted Cher.
I'm staying here tonight. I hope Camille is ok, Calum is too upset to talk about it but he knows he's wrong
Cher smiled and messaged back
Thank you for not defending him but still supporting him. I'll see you tomorrow daddy
Ashton chuckled and squeezed his dick through his pants glad this fight between their best friends wasn't coming between them.
Calum had spent two days holed up with his laptop and journal in his music room with Duke. Ashton checked up on him but they didn't talk much as Calum was watching the all the ProFantasySports live streams and scribbling down song ideas. Calum was laid out on the floor with his laptop watching Camille's interview on SportsTalk and Ashton was fiddling around on the piano when they both jumped at the sound of the front door slamming.
Footsteps came thundering up the stairs before Luke burst into the room.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Luke was angry and accusing.
Calum flinched at his words and Ashton stood up “Luke you don't know the whole story,” he said trying to calm him down.
“Actually I do, I was on the phone with her last night because she couldn't sleep,” Luke fumed. “He basically accused her of lying, wanting to cheat on him with her ex, and, this is the best part, accused her of using sex to get ahead in her career.”
Ashton was stunned and Calum couldn't meet their eyes, his face burning with shame.
“The worst part is the timing of it. Camille feels like you’re trying to sabotage her job. You need to figure out your insecurities and your jealousy because while she's going to forgive you this time, you will lose her if you keep it up,” Luke sat down and his expression softened. “I know you love her. I want to see you guys make it.”
“What did you come back from your vacation with Summer just to yell at him?” Ashton asked slightly annoyed.
“Did you and Summer have a good time?” Calum asked.
“Yes, thank you. We're really good right now” Luke replied. “I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help you get your girl back.”
“Wait did you say she forgave him?” Ashton asked.
“No she hasn't yet but she wants to. He needs to convince her, and we're going to help.”
The party was going strong but Camille wasn't really having fun. She'd escorted the contest winners around from breakfast, a day in the NFL Zone meeting players and testing their pass, punt, and catching skills before ending the day at a charity dinner. She'd promised Brandon Pearcy she'd drop by his party tonight and Stephen agreed to tag along. Being a sports agent Brandon had gone all out, he had clients on both the Rams and the Patriots so they'd split house down the middle, blue and gold on one side with silver, red and blue on the other. The food was themed accordingly, New England had lobster rolls, crab cakes, fried clams, Greek pizza, fluffer nutter sandwiches and whoopie pies. L.A. served up french dip sandwiches, Pink's chili cheese dogs, Pho, shrimp tacos, chicken and waffles and rice krispie treat chocolate chip cookies.
Brandon was always friendly and introduced her to several big name players. Rob Gronkowski, Tony Gonzalez, Calvin Johnson, Cam Newton and even Odell Beckham Jr who was extremely good looking and very flirty. People were snapping and posting pics and Camille couldn't shake the feeling she was doing something wrong.
“Camille,” a familiar voice was at her side and she looked up to see Quentin standing there.
She jerked back, panicking when he put his hand on her arm.
“Easy now, baby girl I didn't mean to scare you.” Camille relaxed seeing the concern on his face.
“Sorry I was lost in thought. You scared me.” Camille put her hand on her chest.
“You looked miserable,” he told her with a laugh before she noticed his eyes catch something across the room distracting him for a second.
Before she could turn around his attention was back on her “I know this is a work event for you but come hit this blunt,” he spoke quietly leading her out to a side patio where several people were smoking.
Camille took a puff and Quentin leaned down to talk to her.
“You need to leave this party. Brandon is going to make a move on you and he can be very aggressive and very nasty if he doesn't get his way.”
“Q, why are you telling me this? You think I can't handle myself?” Camille kept smiling and her voice low.
“Please trust me this one time, this will get ugly if you stay. His dealer just showed up and Brandon on cocaine It's something you don't want to see. It's only 9:30 my dude was just talking about getting out of here and hitting up this bar he knows that's got some decent food, you should go with the girls. I'll tell Brandon you're fighting with your boyfriend and left.” Quentin stopped when she looked surprised and hurt. “Damn I'm sorry, I was just making shit up. I'll go get your boy Stephen and we'll turn this night around.”
Quentin went back into the party and Camille found herself being surrounded and hustled out of the house by three women she'd just met.
They stopped once they got to the driveway and one of them began laughing “Well that was dramatic.” She stuck her hand out “Hi, I'm Brittany. This is Shay and that's Megan.”
“Nice to meet y'all. I'm still a bit confused as to what just happened,” Camille shook her hand.
Stephen, Quentin and three other guys were right behind them. Camille recognized two of them as NFL players Patrick and Von. The other one, Jalen, she knew personally from her guest appearances on his ESPN show “Two Minute Warning.”
They ended up at Vortex for burgers before finding a silly karaoke bar. For the first time since she'd arrived in Atlanta she was actually having fun. Camille wasn't even worried about posting pics to Instagram, let Calum be mad. She wasn't doing anything wrong and if he couldn't see that then he had to go. Of course the thought of actually breaking up with him made her feel like someone knocked the wind out of her. She blocked that thought almost as soon as it popped into her head.
Tonight was her night with her new friends. Quentin left before midnight to make the teams curfew the rest of the group stay till closing at 3am. Camille had to be up at 11 AM to appear on Two Minute Warning in a surprise guest appearance. Camille texted Cher the details before getting some much needed sleep.
Cher hadn't ever had a Super Bowl party without Camille which made it really weird. Camille usually went all out with a Tex Mex taco bar but Cher went instead with pizza and chicken wings. It was the first time Cher had seen Calum since he stormed out of her house the night of the fight. She was pleased to see he looked like hell. He deserved it for making her best friend cry. Aside from that everyone seemed to be in a decent mood. They all cheered through Camille's segment where she dissected, correctly as it turned out, just how and why the Patriots would win. Everybody was in a great mood, and then the game started.
“Be serious, that game was a fucking snooze” Camille joked with Stephen as they presented their boarding passes to go home.
“The halftime show was worse than I thought it would be,” Stephen responded. “Both Sicko Mode and Sweet Victory deserved better.”
Camille laughed but then the Dramamine kicked in and she knocked out for the flight. Cher picked her up at the terminal.
“I hope you know Calum went all out for your return,” Cher warned her as they drove home.
“Mmmm we'll see,” Camille tried not to smile.
“Are you still mad?” Cher asked her.
“Yes, but I really missed him,” Camille sighed.
Walking in she immediately saw the place was filed with pink roses. She headed upstairs to her room and saw tulips strewn out on her bed with an envelope in the center.
Opening it she recognized Calum's messy handwriting and sat down on her bed to read.
My Darling Camille,
There is no excuse for how I treated you and I can't tell you how deeply ashamed and sorry I am. You are the best thing that has happened to me and I'm so afraid of losing you. I've already put you through so much I feel like an asshole asking you to forgive me. I should've never acted like you had to choose between me or your job. Your career is your life the same way mine is and that was completely unfair. You love what you do, you're brilliant, funny and I am so proud of everything you've accomplished. I didn't mean to act like you ever have to choose and I'm truly sorry.
The rest of what I said is completely inexcusable. I lost my mind for a second and lashed out at you and while there's no taking back what I said please know that I didn't mean it. I never thought you would cheat on me. My jealousy is all on me and I'm an absolute twat for behaving like that.
I know words are empty unless they're followed by changed behavior. I want us to really talk this out and I want to be more open with you. I've never been good at expressing my feelings but I want this to work. I want us to work. I have more to say but I'd really like to do it in person. Please give me another chance.
Yours Always
Calum
Luke watched as Calum paced back and forth staring at his phone. It had been almost an hour since they'd seen Cher's car come back from the airport. Calum was sweating and looked nauseous. There was a knock at the door and Luke saw Calum slump in relief when he answered.
“I thought we should talk,” Camille said before she saw Luke “hey peanut, are you guys busy?”
“NO,” both men answered in unison.
“I talk to you guys later,” Luke gave Camille a quick kiss on the cheek and quickly left.
Camille found herself wrapped up tightly in Calum's arms the second the door closed.
“Camille I am so sorry. I'm an idiot and an asshole. Please don't leave me, I want to be better for you.” Calum was trying not to lose it, barely choking out the words.
They stood there like that, both of them crying together, his face buried in her hair and her face pressed to his chest. Until Camille finally had to pull free because she was all stuffy. Returning from the bathroom wiping her eyes she found Calum splashing his face with cold water at the sink. She came up behind him hugging his waist before he turned and picked her up setting her on the counter.
He looked her in her eyes, “so are we ok?”
Camille nodded, “yes but this can't happen again. Mistakes will be made and this won't be our last fight, but I don't want to keep having the same fight. Respect is the minimum I expect from you. My job is going to get hectic next fall and you're going back on the road. We're going to have enough problems without creating new ones for no reason. I need you to talk to me., I need you to trust me. You're so good at hiding your feelings babe, I never thought about you being insecure. I look at you and see Calum Hood: this gorgeous rock star who I'm lucky enough to be with. I can't imagine you'd ever think you weren't enough.” Camille brushed his curls off his face and stroked his jaw.
“I just think you're amazing and you could do better than me,” Calum couldn't meet her eyes now. “Honestly you could do better than most of the guys you're around. None of them are good enough for you either.”
“You saw the pictures?” Camille asked.
Calum nodded looking guilty. “I watched all your live streams and checked your Insta and Twitter constantly.”
“And?” Camille raised her eyebrows.
“And it was the first time I saw you smile since you got to Atlanta. I'm a complete dickhead for ruining your trip. I'm glad you got to have some fun,” Calum met her eyes again. “I have a surprise for you if you'll come upstairs.”
“Calum we are not jumping into bed. I couldn't anyways,” Camille laughed before giving him a light kiss on the lips.
“No come upstairs to the music room,” Calum put her back on the floor and pulled at her sleeve.
She followed him upstairs and he sat her in a chair before getting behind his piano. He cleared his throat and Camille could see he was nervous but once he started to play and sing Camille was left in awe of his talents.
I was just coastin'
Never really goin anywhere
Caught up in a web I was gettin kinda used to stayin' there
And out of the blue
I fell for you
Now you're lifting me up, instead of holding me down
Stealing my heart instead of stealing my crown
Untangled all the strings round my wings that were tied
I didn't know her and I didn't know me
Cloud nine was always out of reach
Now I remember what it feels like to fly
You give me butterflies
Kiss full of color makes me wonder where you've always been
I was hiding in doubt till you brought me out of my chrysalis
And I came out new
All because of you
Now you're lifting me up instead of holding me down
Stealing my heart instead of stealing my crown
Untangled all the strings round my wings that were tied
I didn't know her and I didn't know me
Cloud nine was always out of reach
Now I remember what it feels like to fly
You give me butterflies, yeah
You give me butterflies
Now you're lifting me up instead of holding me down
You're taking my hand instead of taking my crown
Untangled all the strings round my wings that were tied
I didn't know you and I didn't know me
Cloud nine was always out of reach
Now I remember what it feels like to fly
You give me butterflies
You give me butterflies
“Calum, that was beautiful,” Camille was trying not to cry.
Calum motioned for her to come sit in his lap and when she did he kissed her and looked her in the eye. “I'm sorry for everything. I love you and don't want to lose you.”
“Calum do you know what you just said?” Camille was stunned.
“Yes,” he was smiling at her his eyes bright. “I love you my darling Camille, my everything, my queen.”
“I love you too Calum,” Camille had more to say but it was smothered by his kiss.
@biba3434 @toofadedtofight @babygirlcashton @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @slimthicccal @vfdsstuff @unabashedlymyself @5sos-ficssmut
#calum hood#calum 5sos#calum hood imagine#5sos#5sos imagine#5sosfanfic#luke hemmings#luke 5sos#5 seconds of summer#luke hemming imagines#ashton irwin#ashton 5sos imagine#michael clifford#michael 5sos#girls talk boys
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Not The One
Characters: Rob Benedict x Reader; Rob Benedict x Joanne (OFC); Julie (OFC).
Written By: @gettingbywithalittlehelp96 & @itsfunnierin-enochian
Summary: Everything is peaceful and calm but moments like those don’t last long.
Masterlist
Chapter 9
“I don't want to leave,” Rob told you softly as he intertwined his fingers with yours.
“I know,” you sighed, changing positions so you could look at him. You were already starting to worry about how things were going to change after today. “You know I don’t want you to leave either, but I’m already starting to feel guilty.”
“Oh no y/n, we’re not going to have any of that. If anything I'm the one to blame. Besides I don’t think Jo really gets to care, since she started seeing someone else first.”
You swallowed hard. You didn’t know if it was your place to say anything or not but you also didn’t want to ruin things with Rob. “Wh- What makes you think that?”
“I guess I don’t know for sure,” he replied with a shrug. “But, she stopped wanting to have sex, and sometimes she would just get up and say she had to leave with no explanation. It didn’t matter what we were doing or what time it was, or if I asked her to stay with me, she would just rush off.”
He was silent for a minute, but all of a sudden he got this concerned look on his face.
“I don't want you to think that I come here just to get laid though,” he continued. “I really, honestly like you y/n. I like you, so much. You're sweet and beautiful, and so… different. You’re unlike any girl I have met before and with you it’s like I can be me, you know?”
“What do you mean with 'be me’?” You asked curiously, as you stroke his arm softly.
“Be me, like, Jo is a cool girl but I'm just not into many things she does. For example going out every weekend, I am honestly too old for that” he said letting out a sweet little smile.
“Shut up,” you said playfully punching his arm. “You're not old, Rob. No one can keep up with Jo, she is definitely... sort of wild”
“Yeah, sort of,” he chuckled “The point is that since I got to spend time with you, I figured there's something else, something different I want. I want you” he added leaning forward to kiss you softly.
“I wanna be with you too,” you said smiling and looking down after you pulled away from him.
“But… you're still having doubts” he said, a bit disappointed you could notice.
“I really really want to be with you too, more than ever now, but I want to tell her. It will eat me up inside if I don’t.” Your were too confused, feeling guilty and relieved. Thinking that, maybe, she wouldn't mind if she was already dating someone else but what was going to happen when you tell her what happened? In the end, you felt just like the worst friend ever.
Nodding, he leaned in and kissed you softly as he started caressing your cheek.
“Okay, I will break it off between us and you can tell her. It’s going to be weird, but I want this, I want you, and I can’t hide how crazy I am about you anymore.”
Running his fingers, up and down your arm, he flashed you a devilish grin before he nuzzled into your neck and started nibbling at your sweet spot. “I have been crazy for you since I first saw you sleeping on this couch, and the moment I first saw you in nothing but my favorite teams t-shirt and underwear.”
“Seriously?” you asked with a giggle.
“Absolutely. Some nights I couldn’t even sleep, because I just kept thinking about how I would love to make you mine, And I can't believe I just did it!”
“Oh yeah? Am I yours now?” You teased, placing yourself on top of him.
His hands gripped onto your hips as you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, and as you pulled back you noticed the same smirk on his face as before.
“Would you like me to prove it to ya?”
You nodded and with that your second round was underway, which to your surprise was somehow so much better in time and intensity. It had even taken you a little longer to get back to normal afterwards too.
“Do you wanna come home?” He asked as he was finally able to get the urge to start getting dressed.
“I'd love to, but I think it would be better to wait for Jo. The sooner we get this done, the better.”
“Hey, you don't need to worry y/n, things are going to be okay,” he reassured looking back at you with a sweet smile. “But if she does end up kicking you out you can always come and be my roommate.”
The grin he had given you at the end of that he said, was something priceless, and for the first time since he had come into your life, you actually felt like things might be able to be okay. Kneeling on the couch, you helped him get all fixed up and used it to your advantage to give him another kiss. He was so amazing that a part of you was still having a hard time believing what was happening.
“Okay, gorgeous. I'm gonna go home,” He said, starting to caress your cheek again. “You have my number right?”
“I do” you answered smiling.
“It is all going to be okay y/n. This feels right, like it was supposed to happen.” Reaching his other hand up, so he was cupping your face, he continued. “You are so beautiful, so sweet. I know you are the one to me, gorgeous”
Blushing at his praise, you dropped your head bashfully, only to have him lift your attention back up to him.
“You’re going to call me right?” he asked placing a quick kiss on your lips. “Or message me?”
“Yes, I will. I will call you, message you, everything you want.”
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. See you later”
Walking him to the door you gave him one last goodbye kiss. You had no idea how were you going to tell Joanne and thinking about it over and over again wasn’t helping your anxiety. Of course it also didn’t help that you still couldn’t believe it had happened. You couldn’t believe you were finally with him, that you were finally with the man that drove you crazy, and that he felt the same way about you.
Waiting for Jo to come back home you ended up falling asleep. It was two in the morning and being she still wasn’t home, you knew that she probably wouldn’t come rolling in until later anyway.
Sure enough, noon came and Jo came storming in your bedroom, a crying mess.
“Y/N, wake up!”
Slowly sitting up, you were trying to get adjusted to your surroundings when you focused on Jo and noticed her red, swollen eyes were still spilling tears.
“What happened?” You asked, still groggy.
“R- Rob-” she stuttered, making you automatically regret asking “he- he broke up with me and I know it’s because of you.”
What the hell? Rob told her about the night you spent together? You knew if he had actually told her that there was no way out of this but you were going to try to hold out for as long as possible. You definitely didn’t want to start out this conversation with her mad and crying.
“Me?” you asked trying to seem confused. “Why.. What makes you think...”
“Oh please, Y/N,” she sighed, sounding annoyed and looking at you in a way that if looks could kill, it would have buried you six feet under. “All that crap you pulled, saying you hated him was just that. Crap! I thought we were friends. I thought-”
“What are you talking about?” You asked trying to play as if you were confused only to try and get more information about what had Rob said exactly.
“Oh please!” She said adding a dramatic eye rolling. “You just waited for the moment I wasn't home to do it! Couldn't you think about me while you were doing it to know that was wrong?!” She was yelling now, and every second was just more confusing. And that got you feeling even worse but mad at her for calling you out like this.
“It wasn't like that Jo, it was...damn you were who knows where with god knows who and the guy was here waiting for you. I'm sorry, I like him, we like each other and we couldn't help it and he suspected you were cheating on him anyway” you finally admitted.
By that time she was just sitting there looking at you with this confused expression on her face,
“What do you mean with you couldn't help it?” She asked curiously now.
Then you knew you fucked things up. You weren't sure about what was she referring to but she didn't seem to know that you actually had sex with Rob.
She wasn’t even crying anymore, hell you couldn’t even tell if she was breathing, as she looked at you with pure anger on her face and that’s when you could feel it. You could feel a disaster fast approaching.
“I- Uh…” Immediately and unsuccessfully, you tried to back peddle. “What are you talking about exactly?”
“Did you.. oh my God… Please tell me this isn’t how it sounds.” Getting up, she started pacing back and forth like she was trying to put the pieces together. “You kissed? You told him I was cheating on him and also kissed?!”
“Um….” you doubted for a second thinking about how to word it correctly but there it was. Your end.
“You had sex!” she yelled, cutting you off. “You fucked my boyfriend, what the hell is wrong with you? I thought you were my friend!”
Tears started falling again, her cheeks were red and she was mad, really mad. She started walking around your room throwing your stuff, breaking photos of you two together that you had on the desk.
You got out of the bed and tried to stop her. But she turned to you, you've never seen her like that, and even though it was kind of scary, you thought it wasn't fair, it was Rob you were talking about.
“What the hell were you expecting?” You yelled back at her “You were cheating on one of the nicest person that you've ever crossed paths with” you couldn't stand that and since everything was going to hell...
“So what? You waited for me to go out so you could fuck him? Wow, Y/N, you're such a good friend. An advice would have worked too, you know?” she said sarcastically.
That's when guilt filled your entire body, she always had the ability to make you feel bad with things, small mistakes you used to make. This was bigger, anyway.
As you were standing there, processing what she's said, she smiled suddenly, which confused you a lot. “You think he's going to stick around? You're not me”
With that, she turned and walked to the door, looking back at you.
“This is the last thing I expected from you, if you think this makes you better than me, you're so wrong. But be happy. And fuck you, fuck you and him!”
She let out the whole sentence in a breath. Slamming the door shut as she walked out, as you were standing there you heard her go to her bedroom and leave minutes after.
Those last words hurt you more than the entire fight because deep down you felt that she was right.
- TAG LIST -
@natasha-cole • @tas898 • @shanghai88 • @collinscosmicentity • @two-sidedsoul • @klinenovakwinchester • @lara-bradbury • @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name • @missihart23• @internationalmusicteacher • @sherlockedtash88 • @narisjournal-blog • @rblstrash • @princess-of-erebor1992 • @sirraxa • @wontlookaway • @burningrupture • @brokencasbutt67-writer • @winchestergirl-13 • @marichromatic• @notfunnystillhere • @kocswain • @apeshit7x • @spnmightkillme • @damn-it-destiel• @cyrilconnelly • @srtaprieto • @dropthepizza346 • @queenofhellwithcrowley • @pinkykayley • @lauragail2007 • @regandm • @idabbleincrazy • @probably-writing-something • @hunterpuff • @lucerospn1detc • @draiela • @zeddlocket • @jayyx3oxo • @deanwherescas • @lullabylike · @linki-locks11 · @jamielea81 • @fanficcollection
#not the one#not the one series#rob benedict#rob benedict x reader#rob benedict rpf#rob Benedict x joanne (ofc)#rob Benedict x ofc#collaboration#my fics#supernatural fanfiction#rpf#fanfiction
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Fake Marriage part 6
Now that you’ve “married” Miles Edgeworth, it’s time to go hang out at an exclusive and fancy resort a few hours outside of town. (The more exclusive the resort, the harder the press works to sneak in, and the more convincing the resulting photographs will be after all.) I’m sure that won’t cause any problems for you. Oh wait, as the person writing this story, I know that there are actually many proble---nevermind. It will all go smoothly in the next couple of chapters. Yep. (Also, I want to give a thank you to the four people who liked various chapters of this story so far. It may not seem like much, but each one brought me happiness.)
Word count: 592
The resort you would be spending the next four days at was the fanciest place you had ever seen, which you found both intriguing and intimidating. You spent most of your time holed up in your suite, Edgeworth working on his laptop, while you played on your 3DS, read, stretched, practiced your martial arts katas, watched anime, and passed the time with other solitary pursuits. Unfortunately, the two of you did have to leave the room and make sure to be seen a few times, since you suspected multiple parties were keeping tabs on you, and the two of you really did have to sell this thing until you had used this marriage to investigate the murdered prosecutors. During your final day, you noticed Edgeworth scowling at his laptop. “What’s wrong?
“Someone I once prosecuted for the theft of a priceless work of art was released from prison a week ago for good behavior, and no one informed me until today.”
“Were they guilty?”
“I believed so at the time, although the defendant claimed otherwise, and their attorney put up a decent fight.”
“Was this before Mia Fey’s murder?” you were attempting to be tactful while asking if the case happened before Phoenix Wright ended his perfect record and caused him to begin reassessing his values as a prosecutor.
“Yes, I believe the trial occurred soon after the SL-9 incident.”
“Do you need to worry about a revenge plot from this guy?”
Edgeworth smiled and shook his head, “The records indicate no violent tendencies or verbal threats during his prison sentence. And his location is being monitored by the police.”
You should have realized if nothing was wrong he wouldn’t have looked so serious while reading about it. Instead, you asked no more questions and resumed entertaining yourself until the two of you decided to leave the room.
There was a decadent lounge in the main resort building, where you found a fancy chess set. Edgeworth suggested playing a game, and you agreed. Unfortunately, the pieces’ design was too elaborate and abstract, and the game had to start with deciding what each piece was. Of course, the games themselves were short, since you were not good at chess and your opponent was quite skilled. Another couple came in and enthusiastically snuggled together on one of the nearby couches in such a way as to be in a constant state of almost-making-out. Looking over at the couple, you asked, “Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be ‘in love?’” You added a terrible French accent to your last two words.
“Occasionally.” Edgeworth moved one of his knights.
At this point you had given up on ever winning against him and were playing a very defensive game of chess. The result was you merely trying to keep as many of your pieces alive for as long as you could. Moving a pawn to protect your bishop threatened by the knight’s new position, you gave your own thoughts on the matter. “Falling in love seems like a disease that robs people of their sanity.”
Edgeworth nodded, but before he could reply, a square pillow crashed into the game board, compliments of the now-making-out couch couple. Honestly, you weren’t mad about the game ending, but the fact they were so wrapped up in each other they didn’t even notice what they did was irritating.
“Would you care for a walk outside before dinner?” asked Edgeworth as you both collected the scattered pieces.
“Yes please. I don’t think I can take much more of those two.
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Miles Morales: Ultimate Spider-Man (2014-2015) - Not with a Bang, but a whimper
Post Ultimate Comics Spider-Man #19, Miles Morales’ written career as Spider-Man has not been great. After fridging one of the only central supporting female characters in his cast – Rio Morales, his mother – the state of the narrative became preoccupied with manpain, and framing the grief of a teenage boy as, in the words of Miles Morales, someone who “didn’t understand what it meant to be Spider-Man” (Ultimate Cataclysm: Spider-Man #1), which required his entire supporting cast to shame and emotionally manipulate him back into the job.
If there was any good that came out of the last five issues of UCSM, it was probably the introduction of Ultimate Cloak and Dagger and Ultimate Taskmaster.
Miles Morales: The Ultimate Spider-Man, unfortunately, offers very little in the way content improvement outside of one side story and its art direction. Otherwise, it doubles back in circles on subjects and issues that should’ve been laid to rest and ends on an inconclusive whimper.
Ultimate Spider-Man #200 + #Issues #1-7
Death in comic books means nothing, and holds no weight unless you’re a wildly unpopular (or non-white) character that any given publication is looking to get rid of in order to appease their narrow minded (and white) audience. When the Ultimate Marvel universe was created, one of the creeds it presumably lived by was that “death mattered”. When a character died, it would mean something, it would impact the narrative, and every character that died would remain dead.
It’s a shame, then, when they chose to stick their guns, they let Jeph Loeb decimate almost half of the Ultimate Universe’s roster in one of the uglier displays of wanton violence, sexism, and just plain shit writing, with the 2011 “Blockbuster Event” Ultimatum. Ultimatum more or less ensured, despite maintaining the promise that no one would return from the dead, none of the deaths mattered – a lot of it was just Loeb masturbating to his own cruelty if we’re being honest.
With the “Death of Spider-Man”, Brian Michael Bendis added salt to an otherwise unhealed wound that was Ultimatum, which wasn’t even a year old at that point. To his credit, he made Peter Parker’s death matter – book ending it with the first villain that more or less was responsible for the creation of Spider-Man (Norman Osborn) – with reverberating consequences throughout most surviving series in the UM. Yet, following the introduction of Miles Morales – the new and Black Spider-Man (reportedly meant to honor Bendis’ Black children, whom I pity) – you could tell, in the years preceding the removal of Peter Parker as the protagonist of the Spider-Man title, Bendis was regretting his decision.
After a 160 issue run (where Peter made actual appearances and was the protagonist until his death), the questionably numbered Ultimate Spider-Man #200, once again sees Bendis fantasizing about what he might’ve done had he not killed Peter Parker and replaced him with Miles Morales. Most of the original cast of characters that were central to Peter Parker’s story – plus Miles and Ganke – gather together at the Parker House at the behest of May Parker and Gwen Stacy (who appears to be a creep perving on underage teen boys no matter what), to commemorate the life of the late Peter Parker. Considering the previous three iterations of “Memorializing Peter Parker” in the UM, Ultimate Spider-Man #200 brings nothing new to the table, but should’ve been a red flag to anyone paying attention to the declining quality of Miles’ title.
Miles’ final title in the Ultimate Universe, Miles Morales: The Ultimate Spider-Man, begins with the reintroduction of a supposed-to-be-dead Norman Osborn – in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D. – and two generic Spider-Man copycats robbing banks. There’s nothing really of note to say about the first seven issues of this thirteen issue title. Bendis decides, with the Ultimate Marvel universe doing the death rattle, to undo the death of both Osborn and Peter Parker – with Peter getting a half-assed excuse for his being brought back from the dead (to sum it up: “because reasons”).
I don’t think a Spider-Man comic has made me quite as angry as this series has. In the moment I read the issue wherein Peter Parker tells Miles, “It’s time for the Original Spider-Man to get back into the game”, I could’ve torn the book into shreds and smote its ruins if I thought it was going to hurt Marvel’s sales and not be an even greater waste of my spent $3.99.
“I can’t believe we’re beating this dead horse again” was what I was thinking and I just stopped buying the book altogether. I think that the first step to mine ceasing to see Miles Morales as a legitimate character, but wasted potential in the hands of non-Black creatives. I only ended up reading the trades for the sake of reference and fact checking and it’s only this year, three-four years after the fact that I bothered to do that. The only thing worth noting about the first seven issues of this title is that it sets up the last four, which are even worse.
Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man #1-3 + Issues #8-9
Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man is one of seven miniseries titles part of the “Blockbuster Event” known as Cataclysm, which sees Ultimate Galactus (or 616 Galactus, I’m not sure which tbh. There’s very little difference between the two when you get to the nitty-gritty) attempting to destroy the 1610 universe and devour it all. You get the distinct feeling that, before someone came up with Secret Wars, Cataclysm was meant to be the true end of the Ultimate Universe – but someone upstairs changed their mind and rendered it to a mere false start. Long story short: The grand majority – if not all of – the Ultimates (the Avengers of the 1610 universe) are killed or sent into the void with Galactus by Ultimate Shadowcat – who is later hailed savior of the world. The All-New Ultimates are formed.
Das it.
But, within Miles’ slice of the Cataclysm story, Bendis finally decides to focus on the elephant in the room: Jefferson Davis and his open and his fantasy xenophobia toward superhumans and how it has literally silenced his own son from admitting to his double life as Spider-Man. Moreso since the death of his mother, Rio Morales, at the hands of Ultimate Venom. I’ll be perfectly honest – I don’t think Jefferson Davis is a great guy – I actually ended up liking his no-account brother (Aaron Davis, gone too soon) far more because he was upfront about his ideals and his mission statement. He never pretended or tried to be a better person. He was just rotten and enjoyed it.
For that one piece of sage advice Jefferson offered Miles in the earliest tenure of his first title, Jefferson is the perfect example of a man who expects his son to “do as he says, and as I do”, but expects no consequences visited upon him whenever he dehumanizes people. He’s a walking metaphor for the heterosexual Black father who spews homophobic slurs in casual conversation around their gay daughter or son and I’m sure as hell that was intentional despite the incompatibility of the allegory.
Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man doesn’t do much to repair his character, if anything it makes him thrice times worse. When Galactus starts wrecking all of New York City and Brooklyn, Miles, Bombshell (Lana Baumgartner) and Cloak and Dagger, struggle to save the people caught in the monster’s wake – all while recounting where they were when the Ultimatum event occurred.
In Miles’ flashback, we see Jefferson lose his head over the knowledge that the title wave was caused by a mutant (Magneto), all while loudly proclaiming everyone stuck in traffic was going to die. The most important nugget of information taken away from Miles’ flashback is the knowledge that his father more or less promised that he would abandon or disown Miles if he ever found out his son (then, probably only 11 or 12 years old at the time) was a superhuman.
I never had much sympathy for Davis (I tolerated him because of Rio), but the moment Miles tries to convince his father to come with him out of the city to safety, and Jefferson decides to blame a now fourteen year old Miles for the death of Rio and Aaron, I just outright hated him. Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man is not a bad read all things considered. It tells its story concisely and never loses focus of its characters in relation to the catastrophe. The downside is that you have to read the rest of the Cataclysm series to know what was going on. I’d probably recommend you read it, especially since it ties into two issues of The Ultimate Spider-Man.
The conflict between Miles and Jefferson is left hanging until issues #8 and #9 of Miles Morales: The Ultimate Spider-Man – also known as “The Only Redeeming Thing About This Comic Book Title”. The eighth and ninth issues of MMTUSM sees Jefferson Davis finally owning up to his past and basically just spilling the beans about his life as a criminal with Aaron and how he became involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. during the 80s – when Miami Vice, Jerri Curls, House Party Flattops, and ill-fitting suits with shoulder pads were all the rage – and how he met a young, already-at-it, Nick Fury.
The complete tonal and visual shift in the issues are a welcome respite from the Peter Parker nonsense of the previous seven. The story arc, “Miles Morales: An Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”, carries with it the kind’ve of visual flair I see a Tim Sale illustrated graphic novel (like Spider-Man: Blue or The Long Halloween), but it’s still David Marquez illustrating the story from beginning to end.
It’s got the look and feel of a pulp novel, or one of those old newspaper comic strips where the spots of the print were obvious through the inking and character sketches. The narrative, which sees Jefferson and Aaron working for smalltime criminals to Jefferson’s eventual graduation to protecting the Kingpin (with a minor explanation as to why he loathes mutants), is, in my opinion, the highlight of a story that could’ve worked as a full-fledged miniseries about the Jefferson brothers.
My only quibble with the framing of the narrative is that the early inclusion of S.H.I.E.L.D makes Jefferson look more like the unwilling participant of crime he was manipulated into thinking he had to do for “the greater good”, as opposed to some young blood who didn’t give much thought to right or wrong (which is how the early issues framed it) before he had an epiphany. I always assumed the crime came first, then S.H.I.E.L.D, then Rio. Honestly, if you’re at all interested in this storyline, just look for the single issues and don’t buy the trade. You’ll be doing yourself a favor.
#Issues 10-13
Marvel and its twisted, present-day romantic relationship with Neo-Nazism is a fairly ironic one, given most of its early artists were white Jewish dudes with alternate names designed to explicitly hide their Jewishness on account of antisemitism. But, I suppose the publications preoccupation with Nazism to begin with (even if it was denouncing it) would’ve inevitably steered its future publishers to romanticize it in the end. I mean, that’s what happened after all.
You know shit it bad when Marvel wants you to pity [white] characters like Grant Ward of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D for joining a Neo-Nazi group, despite the repeated and angry affirmations of protagonist Daisy Johnson, who flat-out reminds the audience, “You are a Nazi if you join Hydra”, who is undermined anyway by the narrative that continues to bleat, “pity the Neo-Nazi.”
Brian Michael Bendis, in all his infinite lack of wisdom, decides – the biggest way to differ Miles Morales’ love life from Peter Parker’s, is make an underdeveloped character, his girlfriend, Ultimate Kate Bishop, a member of Hydra. Miles’ white girlfriend rides on the agenda of the Aryan Ideal and white supremacy. Brilliant.
The Ultimate Spider-Man issues, #1-#4 and #7 prelude the last four issues with Miles deliberating whether or not he should tell Katie Bishop about his double life as Spider-Man. Instead of being supportive, everyone from Ganke to Cloak and Dagger warns Miles against telling her, thinking it would be a bad idea. He does it anyway, Katie panics and runs away.
The aforementioned issues give the reader a glimpse into Kate’s life with the Bishops, with one conversation with her older sister casually mentioning that “they” would have to kill Miles and the seventh issue concludes with her uttering the phrase, “Hail Hydra.”
If The Ultimate Spider-Man had something to say about the issue of Nazism, especially in relation to Miles’ life as a Black teen – or the cautionary tale of “you never know someone until…”, then I could maybe understand the decision to make Kate Bishop (a wildly popular Avenger in the 616 universe, be she an adult or a teenager) a Nazi.
But, it doesn’t, it basically does exactly the same thing Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D does with the Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward dynamic. The narrative depicts a “Sympathetic Nazi” (Katie) trying to explain their position, and a furious significant other (Miles) outright declaring their relationship is over. Only, where AOS more or less dragged that subplot out to its natural conclusion (“Sympathetic Nazi” isn’t really sympathetic and dies),
The Ultimate Spider-Man did nothing to that extent. Readers barely have gotten to known Katie Bishop since her introduction in issue #23 of UCSM. She was given no time actually to be anything other than “Miles Morales’ girlfriend”. And when it comes right down to it, the Hydra subplot was nothing but an excuse to bring Dr. Doom into the narrative at the last moment. So, the “My Girlfriend is a Nazi” storyline just falls flat.
On a smaller note, the way the last couple issues decide to use Judge – the minor character from Ultimate Comics Spider-Man – is sigh inducing. It’s like Bendis realized his book was coming to an end and figured the best way to a handle a character that barely had any face time since the first twelve issues of the UCSM, is to just plop him in the middle of the story with his already knowing Miles is Spider-Man.
But, he does it in a way that, if you removed him from the story, nothing would change. It’s a superfluous addition and kind’ve discourteous, especially since Bendis doesn’t do anything with Judge later on in Miles’ new 616 title, the unfortunately named Spider-Man.
Outside of issues #8 and #9, Miles Morales: The Ultimate Spider-Man is a sad conclusion to Miles Ultimate Universe solo-title career. It reminded me why I stopped reading his title four years ago, and knowing that none of his recent stuff isn’t any good either kinda makes me glad I made the decision so early on.
#miles morales#spider man#katie bishop#brian michael bendis#david marquez#ultimate miles meta#1610 miles morales#1610 judge#1610 kate bishop#1610 jefferson davis#media: long posts
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Fallout OC Interview
Stolen from @red-flare-art :p
Rules:
1) Choose an OC
I’m gonna do Kaili, because I love her, and I’m also going to do Anna’s responses as well, because she’s the newest one!
2) Answer questions as that OC
3) Tag 5 people to do the same
Er... I don’t know 5 people in the Fallout universe soooooo..... If you see this and you want to do it, consider yourself tagged!
1) What is your name?
K: My name is Kaili Swesson; pleasure to meet you!
A: Name’s Anna Levine.
2) How old are you?
K: Well, I was born on February 29, 2032, and it’s now almost October of 2289... So around two hundred and fifty-seven! Of course, I was cryogenically frozen from October 23, 2077 to October of 2287, so technically I’ve only lived for forty-seven years.
A: Old enough to know better than to ask people their age, Jesus.
3) What do you look like?
K: Oh, I’d say I’m a little taller than average, lean. Black hair, usually keep it in a bun... I do have some pretty distinctive scars. Mirelurk Queen acid is pretty damn painful. And I had an... exciting military career, Pre-War.
A: I look like one of those things that regularly tries to eat people, just with a bit more sanity in my eyes. I’m a fucking ghoul, the hell do you expect me to look like?
4) Where are you from? Where do you live now?
K: I was born in Boston, actually! I split my time now between Goodneighbor, Nuka-Town, and Sanctuary Hills, though, as far as ‘home’ goes. Generally I’m out wandering the Commonwealth, doing my General duties.
A: Some no-name town in California. Ended up in the Mojave area long before it was a nuclear wasteland. I’m a Courier now, so I don’t really call any place ‘home.’
5) What was your childhood like?
K: Oh, quiet enough. I had a few friends - Meg, actually, is a ghoul now! It was so shocking to find out she survived, especially living in the Glowing Sea as she did.
A: I spent more time with technology than people. Stayed true through my adult life, too. Not much has changed.
6) What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?
K: I’m the General of the Minutemen, so I’d say that I’m pretty allied with them! The Railroad and I get along well, and the Brotherhood of Steel and I... Eh. Maxson and I have, ah. Discussed things. We came to an understanding.
A: Only alliance I have is with the guy who used to be my boss, is now a decrepit living corpse tucked away in an old casino. NCR and I are on friendly enough terms, I suppose, but we don’t do anything but business. I don’t trust anyone from any of the Strip families as far as I can trust them, though.
7) Tell me about your best friend.
K: Oh, that’s tough. My best friend growing up was Meg, absolutely. Always had a weird thing for technology, smart head on her shoulders! Nate and I... we were basically platonic soulmates, honestly. Only people we could trust after we mustered out was each other, so we ended up tying the knot. Now... Well, I’m friends with Gage, Hancock, and Preston, obviously. And Piper, Strong, Nick, Cait, and Curie. Deacon and I are as friendly as two people can be when one’s a pathological liar. I honestly couldn’t say who I would consider my best friend!
A: My best friend? Shes hanging on my back right now. She’s the ah.... silent-but-deadly type, if you catch my meaning. Her and the other friend strapped to my thigh, they both are. As far as living friends go, Veronica’s like a daughter to me, and Arcade and I get along well enough. Boone is my kind of guy, though. Like him a lot. We understand each other.
8) Do you have a family? Tell me about them!
K: Well, there’s Nate - he died, protecting Shaun. Shaun himself grew up to be a dick, so I don’t much like talking about him. Right now, all the folks I listed above, they’re the ones I consider family, honestly. I love them.
A: I... Don’t have a family now. Had one, back before the bombs dropped. Only recently got closure on what happened to her.
9) What about a partner or partners?
K: Oh, well. That’s a bit of an involved story? Preston, Hancock, and I, we’re all together. But while I was taking care of Nuka-World and the Raiders that inhabited it, I ended up falling for Gage, my right-hand man, and he fell for me. Things were complicated for a bit, but we eventually sorted them out. He doesn’t feel the same for Hancock or Preston as I do, though.
A: Cassidy and I got drunk together once, woke up naked in the Lucky 38 penthouse’s master suite together. We’re still friends, but I wouldn’t call us ‘partners.’ I guess closest I’ve got to that is Boone. Nothing’s happened there, don’t know if it ever will, but. Like I said before, we understand each other in a way no one else can.
10) Who are your enemies, and why?
K: Oh, definitely the Institute, considering that I blew it up. Raiders and Super Mutants, too, obviously. Anything and any one that poses a threat to any settlement or settlers in the Commonwealth, really.
A: Anyone who wakes me up before sunrise. Also Dean Domino, carried a grudge against that prick for two hundred years, finally got to take his ass out.
11) Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?
K: Yes, I have. I think that they could do an awful lot of good for the Commonwealth if they weren’t a huge bunch of racist, species-st, elitist dickbags. They learn to play nice with others and pull that giant stick out of their ass about technology, maybe we’ll get along better someday.
A: Heard of ‘em. Traveled with a couple of ‘em. I think they’re okay, depending on who’s in charge. Barely managed to talk Rob out of destroying their bunker, waiting for a chance to collect on that favor.
12) What about The Enclave?
K: I think they’re delusional, honestly. It’s been two hundred years. There’s no going back now, if there ever was. All we can do now is move forward, build anew.
A: Fuckin’ nuts, the lot of them. The fuck they think they’re gonna be able to do with the way tech is right now? The way the people have gotten used to the wasteland working?
13) How do you feel about Super Mutants?
K: I have... mixed feelings about Super Mutants. Mostly, they’re annoying, but easy enough to deal with when you’re as good with a rifle and shadows as me. But the suiciders? I’ve got... issues with them.
A: The lot up at Jacobstown is nice enough, and long as they don’t go making trouble, I don’t much care about them. Start making trouble, though, and I’ll be more than happy to drag Boone out and help take care of the problem.
14) What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?
K: Well, I don’t exactly get into fights anymore, honestly. Not since my last Hostage Retrieval mission, back in the Pre-War days. Taking back the Castle with an albino matriarch Deathclaw was pretty crazy, though. Oh! One time, I sniped a raider on top of a skyscraper in the Financial District while I was on another skyscraper, and his body went cartwheeling through the air! That was pretty funny.
A: Hm. Well, board meetings back in the day used to be fucking insane, verbal fights to get funding, almost literal fistfights to keep another department from getting the funding mine needed. Nowadays... Big Empty had some weird shit in it.
15) Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?
K: As Sturges likes to say, I still had frost in my hair when I fought my first one! I tend to avoid them now, though, and they’re happy enough to avoid me. Except for Pipsqueak and Larry, but they’re special cases. Did you know that Deathclaws imprint? Like big scaly ducklings!
A: Ugh, yes. Can’t live in the Wastelands for two hundred years without fighting at least a dozen. Luckily the shitheads can’t climb, or it’d be a lot harder to fight them.
16) Do you like fighting?
K: I like sniping, taking out enemies without being seen myself. I don’t like hand-to-hand combat, though. I’d rather use Deliverer or a knife in close quarters, like in a building.
A: You don’t get to live this long without fighting, so it don’t really matter whether or not I like it. I’ll tell you what I do like, though: Outsmarting my opponents.
17) What’s your weapon of choice?
K: Tinker Tom built me a special rifle; I modded it a little to make the scope better, let it take more powerful ammo, but I love that rifle. Deliverer is great, too, and so is the blade Pickman gave me for not killing him. The guy was killing raiders, and I check up on him every so often, make sure he hasn’t moved on to settlers.
A: Silenced rifle or a blade. Best damn weapons for stealth you can have, and let me tell you: The Courier who moves quickest and quietest is the one who gets the package delivered.
18) How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)
K: I’m quick, quiet, and I can shoot the wings off a fly. I’m also good at talking, though usually I’m just talking sense. Unfortunately, that seems to have been lacking in the past couple of centuries.
A: Oh, I’m a talker - if you manage to see me, that is. I climbed my way up to Rob’s right hand woman, his head of R&D, you don’t get there without your mouth being able to back up your ideas.
19) Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?
K: I fucking hate Vaults, I hate Vault-Tec, and if I ever meet someone who managed to survive who authorized any of those damned experiments, I’m shooting first and asking questions never. Vault-Tec preyed on innocent people, people who were looking for safety. I hope they all burned in nuclear fire.
A: RobCo got some pretty good contracts out of them, but... Well, I can’t condemn their experiments without also condemning myself. Be pretty hypocritical of me, considering I designed a lot of the tech that went into those Vaults. Nice to see it held up after 200years, though. Better than anyone else’s except WesTek and their Power Armor.
20) How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?
K: Rad-X, RadAway, keeping an ear on my Pip-Boy’s geiger counter, and occasionally a suit of Power Armor or a hazmat suit if I can’t avoid the radiation.
A: Darling, no offense, but what the fuck kind of question is that? You got eyes, ain’t you? I’m a goddamned ghoul, that’s how it fucking affected me, and that’s how I beat the radiation, now. I still try to avoid it because I’d like not to lose any more of my sanity than necessary, but by and large, it’s not a problem I have to worry about anymore.
21) What’s your favorite wasteland critter?
K: Pipsqueak, definitely. And Larry, Pipsqueak’s son. They’re the only Deathclaws that haven’t tried to kill me, but only because they imprinted on me and treat everyone at Sanctuary like family, now. Dogmeat’s cute, too; first friend I made out in the Commonwealth.
A: Rex is an absolute gem and anyone who touches him will answer to me. I also like Nightstalkers; I can admire something that can move as quietly as they can, even if they are a pain in the ass.
22) What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?
K: It’s honestly a tie between Radscorpions and Yao Guai.
A: Cazadors, the fuck kind of question is that? No one in the Mojave likes those overgrown wasps.
23) How do you feel about robots?
K: Well, one of my best friends is a synth, Codsworth is a Mister Handy, Curie used to be a Miss Nanny but now she’s got a synth body... I like them. Long as they aren’t trying to kill me.
A: I like them, and they’ve got no choice but to like me. Bow down before the mind that created you, and all that.
24) How many caps do you have on you right now?
K: Um. A lot? I don’t know, I tend to do more bartering with goods than with caps.
A: Enough to get by.
25) Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?
K: Nuka Cola, definitely.
A: Sunset Sarsaparilla; you get tired of Nuka Cola after two hundred years with little else to drink.
26) Do you do chems?
K: Medical only.
A: Nah, not really. The occasional stimpak if something catches me off-guard, but other than that, I stay away from them except for bartering with them.
27) Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?
K: A lot. I grew up in this area, you know? It’s hard to walk around what’s here now and not compare it to the world I used to live in.
A: Sometimes, usually when I’m cursing out a broken terminal, wishing I had the tools I had back when I was head of R&D. Otherwise, I tend not to think about it too much. Why dwell on the past?
28) What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?
K: Hm, that’s tough. I don’t - You learned quick in the military that you can’t have regrets, because they’ll eat you alive. I suppose the only thing I would do differently is maybe try harder to find a way to reconcile the Institute with the Commonwealth, see if I could find a way to use their technology for good.
A: That I didn’t go looking for the Sierra Madre sooner. Maybe if I’d gone there right after the War... But that’s two hundred years ago. No use dwelling in the past, like I said.
29) What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?
K: Even though it’s my deepest regret, taking down the Institute. As much as I wish I could have found a way to reconcile the Institute and the Commonwealth, they were a threat. A big one. With them gone, the Commonwealth is a lot safer.
A: Kicking the NCR’s sorry ass out of the Mojave, honestly. The look on that general’s face when I faced him down with half a dozen upgraded Securitrons after having kicked the Legion right off the Dam? Priceless.
30) What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?
K: I want to make Nuka-Town into an even larger trading hub, start establishing lines of trade and communication with the rest of the continent. I want to push us further towards rebuilding, because we’ve survived for two hundred years - now, it’s time to live. Maybe one day I’ll hand over the reins, but for now, that’s what I want to do.
A: I... honestly haven’t thought a lot about it? For years, I was focused on surviving, then finding out what happened to Vera... And then I got swept up in Rob’s plans for New Vegas. I never looked any further than this, you know? So. I honestly don’t know what’s next. Maybe it’s heading into the Divide, finally seeing if I can’t meet up with this other Courier, the one I’ve been tracking and who’s been tracking me for months, maybe even years now.
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