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theblerdbox · 1 year

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Innocent. (Holes AU x Nevermore Academy)

TW: Physical Abuse, Corporal Punishment

"Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me." Psalm 23:4

Nevermore Academy for Impressionable Young Women and Camp Green Lake crossed paths once in history - Valentine's Day 1979.

Fifteen-year-old Eva tugged at the hem of her shrunken plaid skirt. She pulled it beyond her knees and it sprung into position upon release. "You're making it worse," Elle groaned, "I've been telling you it's time to size up -"

"I'm not sizing up," Eva snapped, "I refuse to gain weight in this place. She was getting nervous. A Nevermore Girl never breaks the dress code: Sunday skirts are to fall right at the knee, no lower and certainly no higher.

"It's your funeral," Elle said flatly.

The bus ride to Camp Green Lake was 12 hours of silence. They had only heard the rumors about Camp Green Lake before - The dust, the heat, the yellow spotted lizard. While lumber duty, the girls would challenge each assumption with the swing of an axe.

"Poor little babies. It must be sooooo hard digging ONE hole for the day."

"We risk our lives out here on those climbs."

"I can count on two hands how many times I've almost been clipped by a rogue branch!"

"Did you hear about that senior who can't walk anymore? She can't walk AT ALL!"

"And they just have to dig a hole - Some punishment."

"I heard Headmaster Walker and his sister have a bet," Claire bit her lip, itching to share what she'd overheard during quiet hour through the walls, "He thinks her camp is bullshit. Headmaster Walker made a bet with his sister, that if her camp is any better than his, he'll finally gift the camp with a fat check."

"And if she loses?"

"He takes the land and she's out on the street."

Valentine's Day 1979 was simply a house check. Simon, Professor Clarice Thompkins, guidance counselor, and Nevermore's 10 best students made their way to what was formerly known as Green Lake, TX - Simon's hometown.

The girls filed off the bus one by one, perfectly groomed, matching from head to two. It disturbed Mr. Sir how the girls looked exactly alike. The girls remained silent and held their chins high enough to be aware but locking eyes with no one.

"Well trained," Mr. Pendanski assessed, "You didn't tell us your brother was military.

Lou Walker took the last toke of her cigarette and tossed it to the side, ignoring the assumption of her colleague. She recognized the clenched jaws, fidgeting fingers, and dry glances through the orange jumpsuit-wearing boys who called out to them. "Those girls are scared to death."

She met her brother and pulled him into a warm hug, "Welcome home, Simon!"

Simon huffed and reluctantly returned the embrace before shrugging his sister off, "You know how I am about touch." Despite the heat, Simon was elaborately draped in his favorite black cape. Underneath he dawned a three-piece black suit and a solid-colored bowtie.

"Mother always did say you were a diva," The Warden teased.

"Mother was always right," Simon sang under his breath before addressing the ladies in plaid skirts awaiting his command, "Lou, these are some of my best students. I hope that their testimony may be of inspiration for some of your - inmates."

He hissed the word inmates with distaste and the girls acknowledged the Camp Green Lake Staff with a slight choreographed nod. Mr. Sir eyed them with overt suspicion.

"Honestly sister," he continued with a condescending giggle, "You could at least put them inside a building. These poor young men have been sleeping in tents? No wonder you have trouble taming them."

"Teenagers are hard to manage." While Lou took her brother on a Camp Green Lake grounds tour, The girls set up the Wreck Room for the Valentine's Dance they'd planned. The girls wrote each camper a valentine, signed with a heart.

The Nevermore Academy/Camp Green Lake pen pal program was three years old, organized by the camps' guidance counselors Mr. Pendanski and Miss Leo. The two were excited to meet each other after writing for so long. In their letters, they'd share their worst desk salad recipes. For the visit, Pendanski took it upon himself to prepare his best. He thought it was cute how she covered her mouth while she ate. "It's so far out," she took a sip of cola, "that I finally get to sit here with you and have the best sad desk salad."

"Oh, don't you just love love!?" Ellie danced around with the pink streamers she was assigned to hang, "God, I hope they're cute. Are any of them cute?"

"Cute as a python," Claire scoffed, "These boys are doing jail time."

"Hey, now, we're here because we messed up too," an older girl called from atop the ladder, gesturing for Ellie to pass on the work.

"We're reformed. They're wasting space. I heard there's on in for murder."

The others gasped and shook their heads in disbelief.

Ellie gazed out the window at the first set of boys returning from a day's work, "I think we all deserve to be loved, don't you, Eva?"

Eva quietly placed the finishing touches on her valentine by the pool table. It was a sketch of her and, Mitch, her pen pal of 8 months. He was in for shoplifting, like her.

As long as I have you, I don't need to steal anything, he wrote.

Ellie had been writing with his bunkie, Spider. Eva fantasized about the day the four of them would get to double date after they finish their sentences - free. She snapped the valentine shut as she felt Ellie hover over her shoulder, "I think love is a privilege. Not a right."

The Wreck Room door flew open and the first set of boys piled in, smelling like fresh soap. Eva caught her breath, masking the nerves that budded at the thought that Mitch could be in the same room. She tugged on her skirt and stood to her feet. The shift's waistband was pulled to her growing hips. An older girl lent Eva a sweater to wrap around her waist, "It happens to the best of us."

From a distance, she heard Mr. Pendanski address a tall boy of A-Tent, as Mitchell. Eva and Mitchell locked eyes from across the room, recognizing each other immediately. Ellie crept up behind Eva and slowly pushed her friend forward, whispering into her ear, "Jackpot!"

They were having the night of their lives. Mitch and Eva caught up and chatted the whole night. It was like they'd always known each other. They stood to make another trip to the punch bowl and Eva forgot to tug on her skirt. She thought nothing of it until an hour later.

Simon sauntered into the Wreck Room, Lou after him. He sniffed the air and frowned at the cheap decorations. His eyes landed on Eva and he swiftly clapped his hands, a signal for Miss Leo to cut the music for a very important announcement.

Simon, ever the Drama King, waited for complete silence before speaking, "Well, I am glad you are all enjoying the visit. It's a real party in here tonight!" He kept his eyes on Eva and her stomach dropped.

"What's with this guy?" Mitch whispered. Recognizing the seriousness in The Headmaster's tone, Eva shook her head, her eyes pleading with Mitch not to say more.

"Take Eva for example," The Headmaster held out a hand, gesturing for Eva to step forward into the room's center he created with a terrifying aura. Her knees quivered with each step and she suddenly wished she took a bathroom break from catching up with Mitch.

"Don't be scared," The Headmaster hissed, "I don't bite."

Once Eva reached him, Simon placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. She jumped as he started talking again and in her peripheral, she caught his sister doing the same. "Gentlemen, this is Eva. One of our brightest stars and youngest graduates. She's made quite the progress - Haven't you, Eva?"

Eva gulped and cleared her throat. The Headmaster repeated himself with a shout that made all the room's occupants jump, including Mr. Sir, whose hand rested readily on the pistol holstered to his waistband.

"I'm almost done with my tenure," Eva's voice cracked with embarrassment.

"Then how would you explain this?" Simon tugged on the hem of Eva's shrinking plaid skirt and she whimpered. "Is this what Nevermore has taught you?" He screamed at her, "To show out for the boys?"

Spider, Mitch, and the rest of A-Tent stepped forward at the ready, but Mr. Sir intercepted them with a strong arm and a warning, "Gentlemen."

In actuality, Mr. Sir wanted to step in. He didn't know how. But seeing Lou Walker's eyes well up with guilt as she watched her brother humiliate that girl was something worth killing to never see again.

Simon continued, saying in a sweet sinister undertone, "Now, darling, you must know I'm not mad. I'm just thoroughly disappointed. Nevermore Academy," The Headmaster addressed the girls only, as if the dozens of boys in orange jumpsuits disappeared, "What is the punishment appropriate for a violation of the dress code? Anyone? Call it out, ladies. You know this!"

"40 lashes," called a voice from the back of the room.

"Very good!" Simon removed his cape and jacket, piling both into Miss Leo's empty arms. She removed his cuff links, with care, and rolled up his sleeves.

He removed his belt and returned his attention to a now crying Eva. She bowed her head and prayed. That was the only thing that could save her now. She chanted to herself the words her abuela made her memorize in the fifth grade, "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies."

Simon continued with afternoon trivia, "And what is the punishment associated with misrepresenting the Nevermore Academy brand?"

"Simon, stop this," Lou begged, "The girl gets it. We get it."

Simon repeated his answer with a scream and was met with an answer from a pale girl in front.

"50 lashes."

Mr. Sir pushed through the crowd with authority "That's enough! You stop this right now -"

Simon fearlessly looked the gun-toting cowboy in the eyes and stepped towards him, "I don't know who you are," he spoke slowly, "But, I know you're making a big mistake."

Mr. Sir looked to Lou who shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

"I -" Eva started to speak and the room went quiet again. She spoke through tears, "I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

Simon stopped in front of the girl and placed both hands on her shoulders, slowly pushing her down onto the chair waiting behind her. He rolled up her skirt, exposing her thighs to the onlooking campers, "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

She bow her head and began to pray again, "Thou anointest my head with oil."

CRACK!

"My cup runneth over."

CRACK!

"Surely goodness and mercy -"

CRACK!

"- follow me all the days -"

CRACK!

"- of my life -"

CRACK!

Eva looked up through her tears, riddled with strength as each lash landed against her exposed thighs. Bloody welts formed and all she could see was Mitch. He held her gaze, nodding for her to hold strong.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

"And I will dwell -"

CRACK!

"I shall dwell -"

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

"I shall dwell in the house of the Lord!" She cried out with a roar.

CRACK! CRACK!

"Forever."

Eva passed out shortly after. The other girls silently surrounded her, covering her lifeless, exposed body with their own sweaters and blankets. Yes, she messed up, but she was their sister.

"Back on the bus, all of you. We're done here." Simon hissed at Nevermore students and staff, shaken and bewildered by the scene. He repeated himself with a scream as he stormed out the Wreck Room door. The boys parted like the Red Sea for him. That cursed man was nothing to play with. Simon was met by his sister, blocking the exit with crossed arms and a scowl.

"It goes without saying that we won't be back."

"You're not welcome back. You're a monster. And I'll see to it your establishment ends in ruin."

"Now, that's a sight that I'd like to see," Simon glowed with dark sarcasm before pushing his way through The Warden and onto the awaiting coach bus. The girls followed behind him, carrying an unconscious Eva in their arms like a martyr.

Mitch, torn apart with grief tried to chase after them, but Pandanski and Mr. Sir held him back with the help of A-Tent. A medic eventually had to sedate him. Mitch was never the same after that day. He wrote Eva a letter every day, hoping for a response, but he never for one. None of the boys heard from the Nevermore Girls again. It was like they disappeared into thin air.

For months, the air of Camp Green Lake took a turn. The boys were softer with one another. Never again would they complain about having to dig a hole; bitch about the hot sun; or dread the possible sighting of the cursed yellow spotted lizard. Nothing was more jarring than experiencing another run-in with Simon Walker, Headmaster of Nevermore Academy for Impressionable Young Women.

That's episode 2! I hope it was a fun read. I promise I'll go back to Wicked Games after this. I just needed the warm-up.

Now, I want to hear from the readers, would you rather dig a hole a day in the hot sun for 8 months or chop down trees in the forest for 8 months? Comment below. (Jail is not an option!)

@ceruleanmusings

@ocfairygodmother

#holes 1998 #fanfiction #oc au #one shot #Nevermore Academy #Desperado spinoff #holes prequel #Riley Keough for The Warden should there be a Holes remake #ocfairygodmother #I'l proof read this later #The Warden x Mr Sir

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thecandywrites · 1 year

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Monster March 2023 Day 11- Spirit Part 1

The Talisman- Part 1- Escape

So, I'm still playing catchup for the days I've missed. And as much as I've wanted to post this as a complete story. Unfortunately, life got in the way. And so at least I'll post what I have so far and where I left it- you should be able to guess where it's gonna end up as so I'm not so evil that I'd leave this on a cliff hanger so to speak.

Thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 Prompts. You're awesome. Thanks. You have no idea how much I've needed this. Enjoy.

Monster March Day 11- Spirit

The Talisman

Part 1

Escape

You looked out over the landscape anxiously from a small window in the castle walls.

There, just on the edge of the horizon, a shadow grew over the landscape. You could practically hear the clanging of armor and heavy hoof beats of their warhorses and the wheels churn from their war chariots.

It was Udwar. A conquerer of legend, who came from a long line of conquerors. And his vast army was here. Already you could hear the Lord of the castle tell his men that fighting against such an army was pointless and that they would be surrendering and offering aid to Udwar and his army and the women and children would be gathered in the safest of areas within the castle walls so that no harm would come to them.

You went to a lone room and pulled out your sacred talsman you kept at your heart under your clothes and knelt and prayed. The words you spoke, you did not know. But your mother had given you this talisman and taught you to say this prayer, in a language she had never taught you because she herself had not known it. Only the prayer.

The talsman had been given to her by a great lady, dressed in splendor but all alone, wandering rather aimlessly in an old, and ancient forest at the bottom of a mountain range. She was old, wrinkled and gray and clearly heartbroken and distraught because her love had died. But because of how disorientated she was from lack of food or water leaving the mountain tops, she acted as if she had lost her mind. She acted as if she was hiding from someone hunting her. She ranted and raged about wicked men with pretty words but who would love gold more than anything, even their own soul mate and that such treasures as gold and jewels were curses. The woman came upon your mother as she was hunting for mushrooms in the forest. And your mother brought her home to her family, who took her in and cared for her in her final days. The old woman claimed that the damn thing around her neck- which she called a talisman was a curse. The old woman begged your mother’s family that she be buried, with her talisman, so that it’s curse would never fall to another. Even though the talisman had granted her escape from her captors. And when she had said the ancient chant like prayer, she could only smile in relief when she knew that where the other one was- was too far away and would die when she would. Because of the sacred nature of the talisman, it binded her soul with the one who wore the other. Her life to his. But while his soul was hers, his heart was never exclusively hers. Because he had given his heart to others. And given his heart to lust for gold, rather than to her and her happiness and any family they would have had.

She had lived for her best friend in the world, but would not say what their name was, and only described him as something large with wings that flew her all around the world. But because of their size difference between them, they could love each other fully and completely- but never physically be intimate. But that the talisman had always given her a way to escape and a way through even when she was lost, even when she didn’t want to be found. And she had enjoyed peace, as long as her pursuer was not close enough to catch her and her true love. Like a married woman with her lover, who was someone who was not her husband. The woman had died, warm, and at peace in her bed. And true to the woman’s wishes. She was buried in the forest, at the foot of the mountain with the talisman around her neck.

Your mother had never forgotten the old woman’s words or her teachings, even as delusional as she seemed. Until- she herself was betrothed to a man from another village. Who only married her because she was beautiful, but just like the old woman warned, he too only sought to expand his own fortune and gain more power and had betrothed you to another purely for political reasons and while your mother lived in comfort, she lived without the love of her husband, who was practically incapable of it. But she was determined to not let you have the misfortune of that fate.

So she ignored the warning of the old woman. She went back to that forest, and back to that grave and dug up the old woman’s bones from the ground to find the talisman still intact and put it on and instantly, tattoos bloomed on her skin and she could see a way up the mountain to a cave. That she had you, still a babe at her breast, she climbed that mountain in a single day and found the remnants of a dragon.

The old woman had been in love with a dragon. Only the dragon was so large, if they did try to mate, it would have killed her, because her body was just too small to fit him. All your mother found was a skeleton with it’s scales and skin over it’s body that had once been full of muscle but the muscle had wasted away, been eaten up, leaving only the leatherlike hide and it’s scales left behind. There was writing on the walls of the cave, in a language that matched the tattoos on her skin, but because your mother was fleeing her husband, she didn’t have time to learn it. She instead, said the same chant the woman did, and it showed where her husband was and where his scouts were- since he was looking for her and you. And suddenly, instinctually, she knew what to do. She changed out of her clothes and into the clothes of the dragon rider that had been left here decades prior and the cave closed in around her, but even in the dark, it was as if she had great vision and could see perfectly fine. And instead the cave opened up for her in the back and she left through the mountain and down some winding stairs to the bottom of the other side of the mountain range. She fled until she came to the castle that was on her forearm, following the trails the tattoos showed her to use- to Ustas. And simply tried to hide in plain sight as a laundress.

But to see how you took after her and were clearly going to be a great beauty, she feared for you and your future, and instead said the prayer and asked that any who looked at you would only see a plain and lowly girl, with nothing to take from so that you would be left in peace. And slowly, then all at once, your pretty looks as a baby faded, as did her own from everyone who would see her and you, except for the both of you, who could clearly see each other for what they truly were- but in a mirror- could ask to see what everyone else could see while knowing what yourselves truly looked like. To everyone else, you both looked incredibly plain and if anything, forgettable. Nothing special. Nothing noteworthy. To the point that her husband had come around the mountain to Ustas, and had looked right at her and didn’t recognize her as his wife nor you as his daughter. But instead simply beheld her as the plain laundress she wished to be viewed as, and her rather plain, unremarkable daughter, who was similar in age to his own, but not belonging to him or useful for his schemes. He had moved on and it was a great relief to her while you were too young to know if he was truly your father or not, because while you had recognized the nanny that he had hired, even she had not known you and simply thought you, even as a baby knew that she was a nursery maid and was happy to smile and coo to you as she often did to every baby she knew of. But her own pregnant belly, made that way by your father, was proof of your mother’s suspicions and while she could only shake her head at what would become of the bastard. But at that moment, your mother and you were safe and that was all she wanted and needed.

However, once your mother put on and used the talisman, and the changes happened to her body, she always had to wear clothes that concealed her own body which had become covered in tattoos. Tattoos that covered her from neck to wrists, to ankles. Only her head and face, her hands and her feet were unmarked. The tattoos seemed to change every time she was brave enough to look at them, not understanding the strange words or the cryptic pictures and symbols of them. They were all together foreign. But at the same time, altogether intriguing and curious.

Nearly two decades later, you had grown up. Because by that point- you had grown up, and seen where the other pretty girls in Ustas were used because they were “blessed” with beauty. But cursed to be so- because they were either mistresses of great men, bearing bastards, or their bodies used just because they were beautiful. And you did not wish to be one of them. So your first request when you took on the talisman from your mother on her deathbed, before you laid her in her own grave, was to keep you hidden in plainness just so that you would never be used or misused.

And it was now, a few years later. And it was just you and this talisman. Continuing on, living your life in peace, but now because of your age- you were considered “an old maid”. Past any age that a man would want for a wife. Which was fine by you. You were happy to earn your keep. And live in simplicity and anonymity.

However, after your mother passed, and you took the talisman from her dead body, on her deathbed, the tattoos slid from her body to yours. The tattoos had looked faded and washed out on her. But now that they were on you- they were fresh and new, if not incredibly vibrant and crystal clear. You swore they seemed to glow in the dark, all strange yet wonderful.

You could spend at least an hour a day, looking at yourself in a mirror, admiring them but you rarely ever had the chance. The day you got them however, they never changed again. The most unique part was across your shoulder blades from one arm to the next, was a picture of an island. It’s shape unknown to you from any map the Lord kept in his castle when you would come to put your freshly laundered linens in this rooms for him to use when he would use the castle privy.

You had learned from your mother who- in order to keep her body concealed, was the first to get up and dressed in the morning, and the last to go to bed at night, so that no one would get the chance to see her body, she even abstained from intercourse to keep her body hidden and it was a practice you soon took up yourself when you got the tattoos. She did so because of the risk of being discovered for having the tattoos at all. And for fear of what the Lord and Lady of the castle would do to either her or you- if they learned a marked person such as yourself was in their midst and working for them. They would surely kick you out and practically feed you to the wolves from breaking rules of decorum by defiling your body with ink- like “heathens” did. So you stayed covered up to conceal them. For tattooing was taboo, forbidden and against custom in these lands.

But with the threat of Udwar the Conquerer on the horizon. And for fear that even “a plain old maid” like yourself would be “pretty enough” to lay with, even rape to the most depraved of his many soldiers, the talisman gave you the sense that you were in danger and you needed to flee.

So here you were, in a lone room, praying a prayer in words you did not know- but had seemed ingrained in your mind and written on your heart that simply asked for a way to escape the danger.

When you opened your eyes, there was a set of mens clothes, decent ones, ones of perhaps a Yeoman. A ruck sack full of supplies and a tent in its ties and a canvas to go over it. A peculiar wrap, a bridal and a tie. You needed to braid your hair so close to your head that the ends of your hair would lay over your head and make it look like your hair was short, like a man. You were going to leave Ustas, looking like Yoeman, a local traveling merchant, which Ustas was known to have and use from all over. You quickly took the comb from the rucksack and braided your hair so tight, in a winding pattern over your head so that the very ends of your hair stuck out at the top of your head and could be laid down over your braids on your head to make it look like you had cut your hair short. Your apparent plainness to everyone else was truly a blessing because with shorter hair, now you looked like a plain lad. Your humble breasts were easy to wrap in the cloth there to hide that they were there to begin with. And by the time you got changed into the men’s clothes, you didn’t look half bad for a yeoman.

The castle was practically in a panic and you would be able to move around it in without anyone noticing or caring because the panic was turning them practically blind to everything except for what they were currently seeking and none of them in the castle were seeking you.

You looked in the ruck sack and found an excellent pair of shoes that you changed into and the socks in the ruck sack made the custom made shoes, made just to fit your feet and were so sturdy that you could run on foot and do so quickly and comfortably. There was a modest looking cloak that you threw over your shoulders, you took the ruck sack and put it over your shoulder and took the bridal and made your way to the stables as the rest of the people in the castle were practically consumed by pure chaos and panic, everyone was screaming at everyone else to do this or to do that and you were seemingly invisible to everyone. As you weaved around them with ease.

You went to the stables and found that the bridal fit an older mare pony. Fillie. Perfect. The bigger and especially younger horses would be prime targets for Udwar and his army. A little old pony like this would be looked over and easily forgotten especially since you assumed orcs were the same size as this pony. You got her little saddle out, since she was used to teach the children and Lord and Lady of the Castle how to ride a horse and you were just small enough to fit into the saddle comfortably and you weren’t heavy enough to cause her any burden in carrying for you.

But you had no food provisions in your pack, so you made a dash back into the castle, specifically the kitchens and grabbed all that you could get your hands on, noticing how some things seemed to glow in your vision and you grabbed all that stuck out to you. Not caring in the least what it was, only that it could be thrown into your rucksack and didn’t weigh you down too heavily. And when the rucksack was full, things stopped glowing and you got the distinct feeling that you needed to go and flee- right now.

But the second you made it to the courtyard, the gates to the castle and the gates around Ustas in general were all closed. But the talisman seemed to give you assurance that you would still make it out of here and be safe from Udwar and his army.

Once you had gathered what your little pony could carry, you felt yourself being drawn to a wall in the stables themselves. You walked over and saw that one brick seemed to glow before you pushed on it and the wall opened up to reveal a tunnel. A way through, your escape!

You took a torch and led the pony into it and once inside the tunnel- it closed behind you. It was like walking through the catacombs underneath the castle. Or perhaps the dungeons.

But you just kept walking forward, leading the pony- Filly, who was surprisingly docile for following behind you in a strange place. Especially since all the other horses in the stables had been just as freaked out as the people were around them. But you were curious to see where it would lead you as the path, a cobble stone street like and walls like those in Ustas were all around you. You could hear Fillie’s brand new horse shoes clink against the stones as you talked to her so that both of you could feel safe and more at ease in such a strange tunnel that seemed to make itself there for you. You didn’t dare turn back. You just kept moving forward. Because forward was the way through.

Suddenly you could both hear and practically feel the army marching above you. Marching in formation- in the opposite direction going towards where you were fleeing from- Ustas. But they were miles away when you saw them last but all of a sudden they were on top of you. And as much as your fear wanted to halt, and wanted your body to freeze, you pushed forward and kept walking in the direction as the tunnel just kept going, and going, much farther than your torch could light it.

But it only lasted for what felt like a few tense moments as you were almost afraid to breathe, for fear they would hear or sense you as you hid right under their feet.

Then the sounds of the army marching above you quickly faded as you walked on and it was clear that they were now- behind you and you were headed to where they had just left from. You walked on a little further before the end of the tunnel appeared where another wall with a glowing brick stuck out to your vision and once you pressed it, the wall opened back up and you and Fillie walked out of the magic tunnel.

But when you walked out of the tunnel, it was now dusk. It was not even noon when you had entered the tunnel for what felt like only a few moments ago and you did not feel as if you had actually walked all that way and even your pony did not show signs of fatigue, and if anything when you hugged her, she suddenly seemed to grow younger. The gray in her coat melted away and her youthful vigor returned to her as the relief washed over you and peace returned to your heart.

But once out, the tunnel closed to show nothing more than a heap of rubble of where a house once stood. Then you looked around to see a completely decimated village, only the stones from the hearths of such houses were left, everything else was now cold ash. They had burned this small village to the ground and stripped what had been in the gardens here with it. There was nothing left here.

As was Udwar’s way- “use everything- leave nothing”.

You looked up and you could see...the back of Udwar’s army as it was now settling around the castle city of Ustas, the talisman let your eyes see far beyond what normal eyes should have been able to see- that the gates were open, the drawbridge was down and Udwar and his closest generals must have already been inside the castle by now and conquered the city. It would hopefully be large enough to be useful for him so he wouldn’t need to burn it down.

You still shuddered to think of the poor women who would be finding that they were tonight’s real conquests for Udwar and his army. And you knew that in just a matter of days, maybe weeks, the army would eat their way through that place, like locusts- before they would move on. But the inhabitants would survive, which is all they wanted and all you could do is pray that no harm came to the children who were innocents in all of this.

While you felt somewhat sorry for them as a whole, the way they had treated you and your mother- you couldn’t feel too bad for the adults though. Because you had always been treated as the lowest of the low of the servants in the castle.

You weren’t pretty enough to them- to be considered a beauty by any standard, but not necessarily ugly either. Your body wasn’t voluptuous to be considered sexy, you weren’t charming or elegant enough to be a maid in the house to serve with grace. You felt your disguise as a plain woman was the epitome of plain and you practically blended into the walls or- by everyone else’s opinion in Ustas- you blended in with the floors practically.

But that was always fine by you. Because hiding behind such “plainness” meant you were never “tempting” enough for any other to look at you with any desire other than for you to do your work. You could wash whatever was handed to you and you could be left alone while you did your work and happily listen to the others gossip about the goings on of the castle, while you happily didn’t say a word, only listen and watch.

Now you were free from the place yet displaced in that you didn’t know where to go, or what to do. You had barely enough light from the setting sun left to see- but you chose the least damaged of all the destroyed houses. You quickly set up your little tent and gathered the remnants of coals from all the hearths and some branches of nearby trees to make a fire.

An army that size- you didn’t think there would be any game left around here because in order to feed the army, a portion of the army always needed to hunt to feed the army since armies marched on their stomachs.

But thankfully you had grabbed a rabbit from the kitchens in your efforts to gather provisions before you left and got to work skinning it before roasting it over the fire on the spit that had somehow remained in the hearth. You used just a dash of some of the spices from the pack and with a good hunk of bread and half a small wheel of cheese, you had one of your better meals in your life. Usually the soups or stews you were given only had one, tiny hunk of meat. But a whole rabbit might as well have been a feast and Fillie happily munched on the grass that wasn’t burned nearby before she laid down near the fire.

You ate until you were stuffed and slept comfortably in the tent that night with Fillie sleeping next to it.

Come morning, you would be on your way again, wanting to put as much distance between you and Udwar and his army.

#Monster March #Monster March 2023 #Monster March 2023 Day 11 #Monster March 2023 Day 11- Spirit #Monster March Day 11 #Monster March 2023 Day 11 Part 1

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pandasmagorica · 2 months

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Rewatch: The Great Doctor, episodes 9-17

Rewatch notes begin

This series is also known as Faith.

Well, that was a long Act III.

Machinations, intrigue, rescues, double and triple crosses, revelations and finally, a declaration, maybe.

I won't even attempt to recount the plot, but I was constantly on the edge of my seat. Even though I've seen this series before, it's still gripping me and won't let go.

I don't think I've mentioned, but despite all the drama and physical trauma, there's a lot of humor in this series, and there have been moments where I've yelped with laughter.

Spoilers follow. You can skip to my notes on episodes 18-20.

The evil dude Prince Gi Cheol has summoned Prince Deok Heung, who had been keeping a low profile but now sees the chance to become king himself. Gi Cheol thought he could manipulate Deok Heung, but Deok Heung turns out to have a mind of his own, poisoning the doctor and ultimately saving her.

The king goes into semi-exile after Gi Cheol engineers an attack on the palace, while Deok Heung engineers a simultaneous attack on Gi Cheol's mansion, gaining control over Hwata's relics.

And we realize it's clear that these are actually the doctor's relics, although she has no memory of them. While she gains temporary access to them - resulting in the aforementioned poisoning - she still doesn't gain the full meaning of them. But she does get to figure out when the gate will open.

Frankly, even though I watched these episodes over only a few days, I had some trouble keeping track of who knew what when and who was in control. I'd hate to think of how much work it would have been to watch the series the original two episodes per week. But I continue to be fascinated by the series.

In the waning episodes of Act III, Deok Heung has engineered an engagement to the doctor as a condition of saving Choi Young from a death trap as well as access to the remaining artifacts. She attempts to back out, and he tells her the only way she could do that would be to admit to an affair with Choi Young, which would lead to her and Choi Young's enslavement to Gi Cheol.

He then arranges to have her escorted to the wedding, which Choi Young interrupts by kissing Doctor Yoo Eun Soo in front of the entire court. Yes, this is the first kiss we have seen. Is this a real, romantic kiss? Or, like Choi Young's earlier declaration at the end of Act I (episode 5) that he is there to rescue the doctor from Gi Cheol, a ruse? Presumably, we will learn in Act IV. But for the moment, I'm guessing this very public kiss would have been shocking in 14th century Korea even if these two were officially engaged.

Hopefully (I know we do, but I don't remember when) we will learn whether the doctor keeps her date with the wormhole, a mere month away, and what the third relic is.

And I screamed with delight at that kiss. Looking forward to episode 18.

Continue with episodes 18-20.

#kdrama #korean drama #mashup #the great doctor #the great doctor series #historical fiction #historical fantasy #science fantasy #medical drama #pandasmagorica #time travel #romance #strong female characters #gay coded character #political drama #faith series

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s-brant · 3 years

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Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #obx s2 #uh oh trouble in paradise #anyway that smut #kinda wanna get railed by JJ in the back of the van #don’t we all?

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wolvesandpetals · 3 years

Text

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 2 of 2

Part 1 is here:

She never knew it would hurt this much when the person she loves is right in front of her, but she can't reach out and touch him; when she is still her, he is still him, but everything else has changed, like an invisible lever in an old theatre changing the scenery in the background, bringing them both to the part of the play where they are hopelessly lost.

[[MORE]]

All it took was one single moment, one single decision, and everything feels irrevocably broken now. It makes her contemplate on the true nature of relationships, how fragile they are, and how easy it is to shatter them- and her.

The smoke is slowly clearing, and all that seems to be left is a man who is doing his best to keep his distance from her, physically and emotionally.

She can tell from the way he stands with his arms crossed, or his fists clenced when his hands are by his side, that he really doesn't want to hold her hand. How can something so simple as the touch of his fingers be so vital to her existence that it feels like something has been ripped out from inside her?

She wants to reach out and touch him, but she is scared that if he pulls away outright, any hope of reconciliation that she still has left will shatter into pieces.

And she really needs this hope. It's the only thing she still has left. It's the only thing that keeps her going.

---

He looks like a man with a mission.

They spent quite a long time together, running from the TVA, running towards the citadel at the end of time, hoping to achieve their goal of bringing down the one behind the curtains.

But that was her mission, and he was there for her. She was the one behind the wheels, he was the one keeping the sails afloat.

Now it's different. Now he has a defined goal, a glorious purpose.

She's seeing him in a whole new light now, and not just because he has switched to Asgardian leather and metal armors.

As far as she is concerned, she is better off doing it all alone. One woman army, nobody to get in her way, nobody to screw up her plans. Nobody to blame her if it all goes to shit.

Or so it was, until two months ago, when Mobius decided to enlist her help in fixing the multiversal madness.

She has never really worked with people before, and it's weird, to say the least. She never considered herself a team player, but she is finding herself hating the idea less and less lately.

And she swears it has nothing to do with him. Not the fact that they are working together, and seeing his face first thing in the morning brings her a sense of calm that she quite can't explain. Or the fact that their rooms are next to each other and it makes her feel secure enough to finally get some rest at nights. Or that this whole arrangement has kept them on talking terms, when they had gone their own separate ways otherwise.

Nothing to do with that at all.

---

Humans are stupid, and the biggest evidence of this is how they decided that two extremely powerful Gods skilled at magic, enchantment, and defeating an evil extra dimensional cloud that swallows everything it touches, should be delegated to the role of research. "You're clever. You're good at reading people. You can put yourselves in the shoes of the bad guys, no offense", they said, but really, what they meant was, "We can't trust you out in the field much." She knows it, he knows it. She just doesn't know why he's complying.

That's how they find themselves researching every single day.

She likes to think he's not the only reason why she's studying in the library instead of in the comfort of her room, but that'd be a lie.

At first, he chooses to sit at a separate table. But she keeps going over to his to "get his opinion" on something in the file she's reading, and finally, he gives in. Their current arrangement consists of him sitting in the chair in front of her, to the left, prim and proper, while she hoists her feet up on the table.

He falls asleep on the desk one night, face smacked against a file, the tiniest bit of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. It would be a hilarious sight, if her heart wasn't feeling what she can only describe as longing.

They should probably talk about it, like mature adults, but neither of them know how to do that.

All she can do right now is gather the courage to run her fingers through his hair. The touch is hesitant at first, as if one wrong move would make him wake up and push her back to square one. Slowly, she relaxes, letting her fingers dance on his scalp.

He stirs in his sleep. "Please Sif. I'm sorry. Don't cut off my glorious locks, please."

Now this is a story she must hear when things are better.

If things are better.

---

Doctor Strange joins them very briefly, very rarely, but the tension between him and Loki is hard to miss. It's worse than the current situation with her, and that's saying something.

"You don't really like Stephen, do you?"

Something inside him seems to shift, but he masks it behind a non-chalant look immediately and just arches an eyebrow at her. "He's Stephen now, is he?"

"Well, that is his name." She shrugs. "What do you call him?"

"Strange", he spits the word out with an amount of irritation that indicates there definitely is a story there. "That is his name", he mimics.

She can't help the smirk that spreads across her lips. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing", he lies, ignoring the horrifying flashbacks of thirty minutes of endless falling. Not a single soul must ever know a mere human got the best of him. "What can he do to me? I'm a God among those mortals. He just irks me because he is so pompous, and arrogant, and he ceaselessly uses magic to toy with others."

She pretends to think deeply. "Now where have I seen that before?"

He scoffs. "You mock me, but I am nothing like him. For one, I am not rude."

"He seems fine to me", she declares decisively.

It's the first time in months that he gives her a cheeky grin. "That's because you're rude too."

---

They are still just containing the threats to their world, instead of finding a way to fortify the barriers between worlds and stop the threats from coming.

"Shouldn't we have a plan to seal off the other worlds from ours?" She asks him one day.

"They are working on it." He tells her, and then with a look of worry, adds, "I hope."

There are debates on what to do at the Avengers tower and at the TVA. Nobody seems to agree on what the best course of action is, but everyone seems to be following the general instructions of Doctor Strange.

During one such meeting, a Minuteman makes the mistake of voicing out loud how she wondered if things would be better if they were running according to their old boss's plans.

Sylvie feels the guilt wash over her once more.

"No", Loki tells them all firmly. The determination in his voice takes her completely by surprise. "Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The definition’s blurred." She catches him steal a glance at her direction. "We couldn't have left a dictator in charge just because it's convenient. Listen, I'm the bad guy. I've done horrible, unspeakable things. I thought humans needed to be ruled. I wanted to rule. But even I know that it's not right to take away a person's life completely. These are innocent people. You are innocent people. You have families back home, parents, children", a pause and a softening of his features, "-love. A whole past, a whole future. That man had no right to take it away from you."

His powers of persuasion are foreign to her, and it's mesmerizing to watch. Her enchantments cannot hold a candle to how he is able to just talk people into doing what he wants, thinking what he thinks, seeing what he sees.

"He who remains had a plan. One, singular plan, from one, singular man." There is absolute conviction in his voice. "It's not the only way. We'll find another way. A better way."

She has never known what it is like to have someone see you for who you are- broken and flawed, and defend you- even your well-intentioned actions that yielded different results than what you expected and hurt them in the process. She suspects it has been the same for him, a lifetime of not having anyone have his back.

The warm feeling inside her is brand new. What is the name of this? Comfort? Relief?

Happiness?

---

This will be their first time out in the field in a long time, and she feels a little sick to the stomach.

He notices. "Are you alright?"

The concern in his voice tugs at her heartstrings. She nods. She has faced way worse, she shouldn't be so nervous about this, but she is. "I've never done this before."

"We can always just kill him and blame it on the Chitauris", he suggests with a serious face.

"I heard that", Peter yells from the other room, where he is doing whatever it is that teenagers do to prepare for battle.

She shakes her head in disbelief. "I can't believe we're babysitting."

"I've done this before", he assures her, and it surprises her to picture him being entrusted with such a serious task. "The trick is to conjure up illusions that keep them distracted enough to not cry."

She laughs. "You're thinking of infants. This one is a little older."

"I'm over a thousand years old, Sylvie. They're all infants to me."

Peter joins them, mask covering his face so that he doesn't reveal his identity. "So what do I call you? Loki and Loki? That's confusing. How about Loki and Lady Loki? Or is that offensive? I'm not suggesting women are inferior, because they're absolutely not..."

"Does he come with an off switch?" She whispers in horror as Peter rambles on.

Loki grins. With one wave of his hand and a flash of green, Peter's own webbing shoots out and seals his mouth shut.

---

Things are fine but not fine at the same time. He's right there beside her, but not there at all. They have their banters, they have their stolen glances, but they haven't had a meaningful conversation since that first day when she got back. She's been putting it off for a long time, but she knows they really do need to have the talk.

She corners him in his room one evening while he's tinkering with a temporal collar. She takes a seat in the chair next to his bed and rests her hand on the table, leaning her head against her palm, before switching position and crossing her arms and legs. Everything about her posture screams uneasiness. If he notices- he probably does- he doesn't say anything.

"You defended me that day."

He briefly looks up from the task at hand and gives her a soft smile. "Of course."

She blinks. "I don't understand." Her hands involuntary rise up to rub her temples. "If you can justify my actions to them, then how can you still be mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you", he says without missing a beat.

"Rubbish", her words come out angrier than she intended. This frustration is the result of the months of status quo they have had. She has to know now, one way or the other. "You're distant. You're guarded", she accuses. Then her voice breaks, as she feels a part of her break all over again with her next words. "You don't hold my hand. Why? Tell me."

He abandons the collar and focuses his full attention on her. Staring straight into her eyes, he answers her. "You know why."

"I wouldn't be asking if I did. Look, if it's because I chose the mission over you-"

"-Of course it's not that." He says decisively. Then a sad smile clouds his face. It's the same look he had when she accused him of conning her to gain the throne. "Do you think I'm the type of man who would want a woman to abandon her life-long ambitions just because she has met someone?"

She knows he isn't. But it still doesn't answer why he is so cross with her. "What is it then?"

He pauses for a moment, trying to decide whether he wants to bare his soul out to her once more or not. There are two ways he can go from here- choose to not let her in again and save himself from the hurt, or trust her again and open himself up to potential pain.

Who is he kidding? Pushing her away- keeping her away- doesn't hurt any less.

There were a thousand things that had to go wrong to bring two Lokis from two universes together. A connection like that, it doesn't just happen.

And it doesn't just go away. The pain is constant, it's a part of him, pounding like a second heart every second he has to stop himself from reaching out for her hand.

This has to come to an end.

He takes in a deep breath, bracing himself. "You didn't have to send me away, Sylvie. I wanted to stop you from making the same mistakes I did. But in the end, I didn't care what you chose. I just wanted us to do it together."

She never even imagined this could be the reason for his hurt. All these months spent thinking he hates her for her choices, and now it turns out he is hurt simply because she chose to do it alone? "I'm sorry." She says sincerely. "I just wanted you to be safe."

"And I just wanted to be there with you till the end." He confesses. His eyes shimmer with the emotions he has kept bottled in for so long. "You go, I go."

She doesn't know what to say to that. She has never been good at articulating her feelings. Tears stream down her cheeks at the realisation that even after everything, he is still there for her.

She didn't cry even back at Lamentis when they thought they were going to die. She doesn't let anyone see her cry when she is sad or scared. That's all she has known her whole life. She's used to it by now.

This is new. These are tears of relief. Comfort.

Happiness.

Tentatively, she crosses over to the bed and sits by his side.

It's quiet for a few minutes. But unlike the months of tension so thick she could cut it into splices with her daggers, this is comfortable silence. The kind they had before it all went wrong.

"Did you even miss me?" He whispers.

"What kind of silly question is that? Of course I did." Her shaking hands grab his, and oh how she missed this.

He intertwines their fingers. His eyes draw closed. Bliss. That's the only word for this feeling.

He opens his eyes again and studies her. She's staring back at him, teary-eyed, but with a hopeful smile. "Really? Because you have a really unique way of showing it. You didn't even come looking for me."

"I didn't know how to face you", she tells him honestly. No tricks, no enchantment, no treachery. Not with him. "I didn't know if you even wanted to see me." Her voice grows quieter, dropping to a timbre that perfectly encapsulates her deepest fear. "I thought you hated me."

"Hate you?" He is shocked that she thinks that is even possible, specially after seeing him these last few months. "Sylvie, I'm working with the Avengers. The Avengers. Do you know how much I hate them? They are my nemesis. They're self-righteous, condescending, and so completely dull. Every second with them makes me want to rip their hearts out. Why do you think I'm here with them?"

She thinks she knows. But she needs to hear it anyway.

"It's because of you." He lays it all out on the table. All cards on deck, win or lose. "You've been running away. I have been the one who has been here, trying to hold down the fort, working to fix everything. Because that is what one does when one loves-"

Shit. The word slips out before he realises it.

Their eyes go wide in unison.

"Sylvie, I-"

"-Don't you dare take it back now." She warns him. "I-" She doesn't know how to say it either. They make such a great pair, both equally daft at saying how they feel, like they are teenagers, not Gods who have lived for centuries. "I've been running because I didn't think I could bear the burden of knowing I found you and then I lost you. I don't want to lose you. Not now, not ever."

He kisses the back of her hand, before letting it go. He cups her face, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "I don't want to lose you either."

She leans in closer, until their foreheads touch. She can feel his breath on her face, warm and soft. That is exactly how she feels inside. "You won't", she promises. "You go, I go."

---

(Quote on Lesser Evil from The Witcher. Thanks for reading!!)

#fanfiction #fanfic #loki #loki disney+#loki x sylvie #sylki #sylvie laufeydottir #sylvie x loki #pro sylki

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seths-wife · 3 years

Text

Theory: why is Seth Twiright the demon of wrath? What's his backstory?

Note: this theory tries its best to be as objective as possible in explaining and deducing facts basing on only what is known in the novels and not basing on personal preferences and sensibilities, just cold gathering of the facts and trying to draw plausible conclusion. That doesn't mean i'm right, necessarily.

Index:

1) Demon of wrath or demon of pride? (Biblical references and discordance of themes).

2) Was Seth a victim of abuse? (Can we draw this conclusion basing only on what we know?)

3) That one comic by Ichika

4) Conclusion

Chapter 1: demon of wrath or demon of pride?

Seth is a really peculiar character: the sin he's represented by doesn't seem to be...displaying that much, contrary to those of the other demons in this series.

Gilles is clearly lustful (basing on the catholic religion definition of it, at least) seen his high sex drive.

Vlad is not really explained but he's a cook so he must be obsessed with food (joke), also his interactions with Banica seem to suggest a morbid curiosity of his to try new foods for hedonistic pleasure, no matter if it's immoral and illegal to eat those.

Marie Annette is a really prideful human/demon seen her few lines in the entire series, like "bow down to me" without any legitimate reason.

Eve...well...on another theory about that...

Rahab is clearly envious when also other people get what she has, seen that she's basically the ec version of Ayano Aishi and a big stereotypical yandere, at least in one part of the narrative.

Salem (does he even exist? (joke)) is an economist so he must be obsessed with money and gathering earthly and perishing goods. (joke)

I won't talk about Adam Moonlit as the demon of greed here as it's for another topic.

But Seth? When in the series does he show unrighteous wrath? Do we see him get angry outbursts and go around beating up and killing people because he's angry at them?

No.

On the contrary, in the whole series Seth seems to be pretty calculating and cold, and he doesn't seem to be really excessively troubled by any behavior or at least he doesn't really show a strong vengeful attitude towards them.

Yes, he might get on bad mood when his plans don't succeed as he expected to, but he never goes like "you'll pay for ruining my plan" or something. He proceeds with his plans, trying to adjust the latters in order to fit the new situation.

Actually, sometimes he seems to find amusing and funny when people try to kill him and unmask (pun or not lol) him for his evil bahaviour, like when Adam tried to kill him and the latter was surprised he couldn't succeed since Seth outsmarted him, or Gammon when he confronted him about brainwashing Miroku.

It's as if Seth finds funny when people are frustrated because of him, it soothes his ever-roaring mind and boredom.

For months, i've thought that Seth should have been the demon of pride because of his attitude in the crime novel and because it fit him better as for the Biblical references:

We see multiple instances in the crime novel that Seth likes himself very much: he loves the fact that he consideres himself to be the best scientist in the country™ as he uses this bunch of words everytime he introduces himself (both as Horus and as himself), also he considers himself to be very handsome to the point he doesn't want to change his face because it would be "such a terrible crime" (i mean, i also think he's hot but Seth, calm down, what the hell...).

But his pride doesn't end with him flaunting his intelligence and hotness.

There are also other instances of Seth's pride that are even more remarkable.

Like for example, the whole matter of Seth making artificial humans (so called "ghoul children") mimicking the creation of the "gods" in the series. This can be considered a matter of pride, as he wants to act as the "gods", he thinks he's able to be on par of them.

Well lol, gods...i always found pretty unrealistic how we got from human scientists with high tech from almost omnipotent beings that can cast lightening wherever they want, make ladies pregnant and instill thoughts and visions in people in a single arc while being trapped inside of a spaceship. This always provoked some strong cognitive dissonance within me, this sounds like a stretched, inappropriate and unrealistic even if they have big tech. That's why i call them "gods wannabe". They're still humans playing God after all.

But that's besides the point.

Even more remarkable is this other line, right after quoting the achievements of other "gods" in the series:

"In that case—

I am the god who creates “evil”.

Seth is literally and explicitly placing himself in the place of the gods, considering himself to be a god on par of the pillar ones in the series.

And this is very coherent basing on the fact he should be the parallel of the Biblical serpent, the demon who thought he was on par of God and fell because of pride.

So it would have had much more sense to have Seth as the demon of pride.

So when and why is seth the demon of wrath since in the series it looks more like he's the demon of pride?

His motive? Not really...Seth doesn't seem to act because of some sort of anger as his main motivation is to "follow his h.e.r.s nature and make himself 'new friends' (his own definition of friends)".

Then i think we have no choice than look at his backstory and see if we can spot some unrighteous anger there.

Chapter 2: is Seth a victim of abuse and angry at his mother?

The vast majority of the theories around about the reasons of Seth's evil are based off the fact that Seth might have gone through motherly abuse that provoked him some childhood traumas back when he was a little white and red mask.

Those assertions are usually backed up by pieces of the short story "Outlaw and lychgate".

Let's look at them.

The most quoted line about this issue is:

“My, and what sort of dish is that?”

“It’s not really much of a dish. You just splash some curry powder and ketchup on a sausage. My old ma used to make it for me a lot when I was a child.”

“Just like mom used to make, hm. That sounds quite nice. My mother never did any home cooking for me.“

Well...from this particular line, fans have begun to speculate than maybe his mother starved him or refused to cook for him.

But is it necessarily the case? It can be a possible interpretation but we don't know how masks work in this series or whether or not they need to eat, especially since they don't have a mouth or a digestive system of some sort.

It can also be that Seth was just curious about food in the line upwards since as a mask maybe he could not experience food, given that he couldn't physically eat when he was a mask.

This doesn't necessarily refer to an abusive situation of a mother refusing to provide food and care for her son.

There is also another instance in which Seth spoke about his mother.

"I often hear strangers tell me that they can’t tell what I’m thinking.

Even my own mother said so, before she died.

That’s why, to get her to understand at least a little bit, I shot her in the forehead.

To this day I still remember how stopped moving, her mask cracked in two.

That was the first murder I committed."

Ok, the fact that his mother "didn't understand him" could have been because of various reasons:

1) maybe she didn't try to understand him and neglected him.

2) maybe Seth became too different from his mother since he contracted hers and she couldn't understand and relate to him anymore even if she tried to.

3) Seth is just too cryptic or changes his mind too fast (probably because of his boredom) when it comes to expressing his true intentions or having certain intentions therefore people have big trouble understand him.

I would go for 3 since Seth also explained that not only his mother didn't understand him but also various other characters, so it's not necessarily true that Seth's mother just refused to listen and understand him, it could have been that Seth was too cryptic or that she couldn't relate to a her.

Anyways, we don't have a lot of info about this but i don't think it is correct to see a mysterious passage in just one possible way.

And also i wouldn't like for Seth to be "he's evil because mommy wasn't nice therefore he's angry and wants to make everyone like him and destroy everything uwu" because:

1) that's a really misused trope.

2) it doesn't properly explain why Seth did what he did in the crime novel, it's clear that there has to be an even deeper motivation that made him do those horrific things: abuse is too much of a simplistic and lazy motivation given his role.

Also there is no specific mention of anger and resentment even if there could be.

So where can we see that Seth is angry?

Chapter 3: that one Ichika comic.

Let's look at this one comic.

It is kinda difficult to understand what it means but the face resembles Seth's human form a bit and also this comic shows a theme of anger against the human creators of the first period since the comic seems to be talking about the second one "in this world where everything is an extension" (the second period is a virtual parallel reality to the first one in the series).

Seth seems to be pretty aware of the first period.

I think so because Kiril (his clone) at one point gained back the memories of his original.

Who? Seth? Pale? (That twist complicated things a whole lot).

I will go for Seth since in the series he's always referred to as the original talking about his "clones".

Kiril with Seth's memories came up with "Vocaloid, huh?!", showing awareness of the knowledge of vocaloid (since the first period is similar to the real world in the series) but i don't think this is an info Kiril learnt on his own but he took from Seth's memories since he was a researcher of parallel worlds and wouldn't have been out of place for Seth to learn about the first period.

So, given that Seth is the one of the comic and he's talking about the humans of the first period, he seems to be angry at the fact he was born to be an her (let's remember the humans of the first period started the her problem for their own personal gain) and in the society of the second period he's seen as a problem because of that.

Therefore Seth in his anger invites people to blame the creators instead of him since he doesn't think to have a free will and has no other choice than being evil because of those humans who "made him this way".

Funny how the same topic is faced with Irina and Levia in the duel. And funny how Levia in this series seems to also be a victim of her own pulsions and can't really be a moral authority in this, again, gods wannabe. They have their morals inspired by their originals who made their avatars who have tainted them with a virus, so they can't create, define or judge good and evil themselves.

So funny.

Chapter 4: conclusions.

So i think this is a plausible reason Seth might be the demon of wrath. But still, i wonder how it is that Seth is happy later on to follow those pulsions he thinks he can't control (given by humans) and doesn't try to fight back the instincts.

Maybe he accepted and got happy with his disease or he just resigned that that was his destiny thinking that he had no choice.

I don't know if i will make anymore theories after this, since i want to go on and make content for something else.

#evillious chronicles #evillious #seth twiright

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addictofsupernatural · 4 years

Text

A Crush's Body

Loki Odinson x reader

Summary: You have to dress up in burlesque attire for a mission, and it has Loki angered and worried.

Word Count: 3352

"This is outrageous." Loki said as he shook his head and paced back and forth. "Who was the person to come up with such a stupidity of a plan?"

"Mm, Tony I think."

Loki quietly scoffed. "Of course."

You got up from the couch to stop Loki's pacing. "Really Loki, it's not that big a deal."

"Not that big a deal? Of course it is! They can't be treating you like some object! Have they no respect for you?!"

Loki learned a lot about respecting you over time. You met when Thor brought Loki back to the prison cell in the Avengers compound. You heard about Loki through Thor, and chose not to listen to any other bad renditions of him unless it was only from Thor. You could sympathize with Loki"s issues, and chose to befriend him.

"What are you doing?" He asked when you sat down next to the glass for the first time.

"I want to talk to you. Is there something wrong with that?" You smiled.

"Really? You want to talk to the big scary monster?" He mocked. "Why?"

"Because maybe you're not as evil as some people, including you, think. I think we have some things in common actually." He tsked at you and turned away, causing you to giggle in response. "If you don't want to talk, then that's okay. Just want you to know that I'm gonna come by a lot and it'd be a lot less boring if we did talk."

You then sat there for about an hour in silence. The next day you came back and did the same thing: sitting down with a smile in silence for a while before you'd leave again. You did it almost every day for three weeks before he finally did talk. "Why in Valhalla are you here again? What do you want from me?!"

"Not much. Just a conversation. Someone to talk to." You ignored his demanding tone and gently smiled.

"Why? People don't just want to have a conversation with me, so what do you really desire?!" He stomped over to the glass and glared at you.

"I don't like it when people feel lonely. I know what that's like, and I'm guessing it's something you had to deal with for a long time too. I don't see what's so bad about just talking."

He looked you up and down, both skeptical and curious. "What do you mean by you being lonely?"

You then talked to him almost every day. You told him about how your parents were ashamed of you for being born with your powers, and how you were always in the shadows of your siblings because they were normal. You both told each other a lot of stuff, and seeing you soon became the best part of his day.

One day Thor went to check up on his brother to see how mad he still was. This is when he saw you two. You were talking very animatedly, telling a story of some kind, and Loki was standing with his hands behind his back and a smile on his face. Thor then heard something he hadn't in a long time. He heard Loki burst into laughter.

"Am I interrupting something?" Thor asked as he came out of his corner.

You stopped what you were doing and looked at Thor. "Oh, no not at all. We were just talking. You two could talk now, I should actually have started on my paperwork sooner. I'll see you tomorrow Loki. Bye Thor."

Loki gave you a tight smile and a wave as you left. A frown replaced it once you were out of sight. "What is it now Thor?"

"I didn't know you were so well acquainted with Lady y/n." Thor smiled wide.

"Must you know everything about my life?" He bit back, though deep down he was happy that you didn't go blabbing your friendship with him to everyone. It made him feal like your friendship with him was real and not made by SHIELD to lower his guard.

"You seem smitten brother. She's a fair lady, with a good heart and a strong spirit."

"You don't need to be telling me things I already know brother!" He snapped, instantly regretting how that came out.

Thor paused, but his smile remained the same. "Maybe it's about time you left this cell. With supervision, of course. It is possible to pull some strings and have y/n be the one to supervise you." Of course Thor rooted for his brother, not that you knew.

By next week, you were in front of a crowd to watch Loki be release. Once he stepped out, he looked at you nervously, wondering if you'd be afraid of him now that nothing physically separated you two.

You smiled brightly and ran up to him instead, giving him a warm hug. You didn't care who or how many were watching. After a moment of hesitation, he reciprocated.

Pretty soon he didn't have to be supervised by you, and became an Avenger. Mainly for you. He had what midgaurdians would call a crush on you, as did you, but neither of you fessed up. This brings you to today, where you have to dress as a burlesque dancer and perform for a mission, which Loki hated.

"Loki, please. It's for the mission." His anger was starting to get you upset. "You know I have to do this. This is how I can help. Besides, I can really only be a either a freak or eye candy. There's no in between for me."

You averted his gaze, and he held up your chin to look you in the eye. "I only see you as a hero."

You put your hands on his shoulders and gently smiled. "You always know what to say to me." He returned the smile. "But I'm still doing it."

"You don't even want to actually do it!"

"Sometimes a hero needs to do something they don't like, for the greater good. Now I'm doing it no matter what and it'd mean a lot if I had some support from you."

He huffed. "Very well then. I just don't want someone to try and take advantage of you."

"You know I can handle myself. Me and Wanda have similar powers." He sighed and pulled you in for a hug, before letting you go and walking you outside to where the cars were waiting for you.

"I'm coming as well." Loki stated as he went into the car with you and Tony.

"And why is that?" Tony asked.

"Because you mortals don't know how to defend yourselves properly."

Tony huffed. "Just use your magic and don't be yourself."

As the three cars pulled up to the burlesque lounge around the back, you got out to hug the owner. "Hey Tess. Thanks again for letting me do this."

"Of course sweetheart. Anything for the neighbor who let me borrow some rent money. C'mon, let's get you dressed and ready."

Loki used magic to make himself unrecognizable, and sat at the same table as Tony, who was playing off as old him who just wanted to get drunk and pick up women. Wanda and Natasha were both waitresses, while everyone else hid and waited for their cue.

(This is what I picture as the outfit:)

After Tess did your makeup and had you in a costume, you waited to get on stage. In truth, you were nervous. Not because a rich man selling alien tech was about to watch you, and probably call you over. Not because you had to lead that dangerous man on in order to imprison him under wraps. You were nervous for Loki to see you like this.

It was time, and two other girls ushered you on stage with them. You went over this multiple times with them, and had the song and dance memorized by heart. The curtains rose and your performance began. You had no time to be nervous, because right now you had to become a performer.

Loki and Tony waited for you to come out on stage, having eyes on the man. "You excited to see your girlfriend come out on stage?"

"Tony." Steve said over the earpiece.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Loki scowled.

"Well, y'know, how you hover over her whenever she's doing something by herself and all. You'd figure that the two of you would be more than just friends."

"Tony leave it alone." Steve warned.

Loki glared away from him. "I came here because I was worried she was in incapable hands. You were the one who forced this idea upon her, were you not?"

"Look pal, at the end of the day, it was her choice. Nobody was going to force her to do anything. You just want an excuse to be around her; you want to swoop in and save the day. She lets you stick to her because kindness is her weakness, and you know it."

He snapped his head towards Tony. "Has it ever occurred to you that I'm around her because she makes me want to show kindness? Is it really wrong that I want to protect one of the very few people to actually care for me in my life?"

Wanda passed by the table to give them new drinks. "Really Tony, maybe it's not a bad thing that they're so close. Let them be friends."

Tony didn't have time to respond before the curtains went up and your show was starting. And what a show it was. None of them have seen you showing that much skin, and you were known for getting into your undercover character, so you were just really giving it your all.

Loki was astonished. He couldn't take his eyes off you. You were so beautiful. You had shared your insecurities with him about your body and yourself, but all he saw was perfection. You were perfection.

Soon your performance was over and you went to the bar to sit down. That was when he got up and sat down right next to you. They told you that the man had a type for girls who looked like you, and ones with innocent personalities.

Loki saw that you gave him a cute smile and giggled when he said something. All too soon you began to follow him up to the VIP lounge. He watched you happily walk up the stairs in front of him where he checked out your ass, and into a room where the doors closed. A few minutes later, everybody was signaled.

"Alright sweetheart, sit down on a couch." When you entered, the big room was aligned with body guards, guns in hand.

"Mkay." You gave him another smile. "What are we gonna do?"

He chuckled. "What do you want to do?"

"Mm, I don't know, but can you have your men lower their guns please? It's making me a little nervous."

One of his men whispered something to him, causing him to nod and face you. "How are you not getting scared mindless from all these men with guns sweetheart? That's awfully suspicious."

"I've seen my fair share violence. I might be a little used to it but that doesn't mean I like it." You gave him a pout. "Please put the guns away."

"Sweetheart, I like you, I really do, but no. My men don't back down for anyone. Now I'm not saying their suspicious of you, it's just in case for anyone else."

You heard from your earpiece that they took down everybody in the back. You sighed and got up. "Well that's a shame. I really thought I was getting into character."

You put up all their guns in the air, and flung it to the back wall. "You bitch! What the hell are you?"

"Do you have a problem with people that have powers? Is it because you feel powerless around them? Do you feel smaller than me right now?" You grinned.

"Shut up!"

"It's okay. As someone you have to look up to, it's only fair if I give you advice to cope with the fact that you're not special at all." He lunged at you, and you used your powers to slam him to the ceiling and drop him back to the floor, causing him to knock out. Everybody stared at you in shocked silence. "What? You can't tell me he wasn't being a creeper."

Everybody else then busted the door open to fight with all the men lined up. Loki appeared next to and gave you a warm smile, handing you his two blades. "Care to show me if you were actually listening to my teachings?"

You nodded and fought the guy charging at you. In a few moments you were standing over his unconscious body, and turned to Loki. "Did I do it right?"

"You excelled little one." His smile became a little wider.

"C'mon Loki I'm not even that short!" He laughed and put your cap over your eyes. You fixed it and gave him a pout. "You owe me Taco Bell now. I hope you're happy."

As the two of you walked to Taco Bell later on in the night, Loki conjured his fur cape and put it over your shoulders to keep you warm. "Why didn't you just get me a jacket?" You chuckled.

"Because... This will keep you warmer than some cheap jacket you own." He regretted saying it as soon as it came out. He hoped you didn't notice how heated his face felt.

You only laughed and shook your head. "Ouch!" You playfully pushed his shoulder gently. "We need to work on our wording."

"What I meant was that I want you to stay as warm as possible. I'm a naturally cold person so I don't know how to make you feel better." Loki blurted out. You smiled as he held open the door for you. Luckily there was nobody else inside since it was the middle of the night, and he wouldn't have to endure stares.

"Thank you Loki. Always considerate." You got to the cashier. "Hi! Can I have a number 10 with iced tea please?" He smiled at you and nodded, inputting your order. "What are you gonna get Trickster?"

"Just 2 hard shelled tacos please." He caught you snickering. "Why do you always laugh when I say that word?"

"What? You have a British accent, how can I not laugh when you say tacos? It's just so funny." You giggled as he huffed.

Just then three girls came inside, and laid their eyes on Loki. One of the girls whispered something before making her way to him as the other two watched and chuckled. "Hey! You're Loki right? Thor's brother?"

You and him glanced at each other. He hated it when people addressed him just as Thor's brother. He's his own person. "That is correct, yes. Is there a problem?"

"Of course not! Y'know I was so happy when it came out that you weren't evil. You were just being controlled, which I could tell deep in my heart. With a face like yours, I knew you weren't bad!"

She wrapped her arms around him, clearly invading more than one boundaries. Loki tried to gently push her off. "It would be of great service if you would please back up a bit."

She gave him a pout, "Why? Don't you wanna talk some more?"

"I'd rather not." He pushed her gently, and she stumbled a bit on her foot before putting her hands on Loki's shoulders.

"Y'know, I'll just be straight forward. It's on my bucket list to hook up with an Avenger, and right now I feel like the both of us can have a fun night."

"In Odin's name, no! I don't indulge myself with pure and utter harlotry. And besides, I'm with a friend right now."

She then looked at you, scowling. "Her? Really? Some girl having you buy fast food in the middle of the night for her? It's not like she needs any more food."

She looked you up and down. You frowned, wrapping your arms around your stomach. The cashier was ticked off from watching this. "Then what are you doing here?" He mumbled.

Loki pushed her arms away from him forcefully. "Don't talk about her like that! Leave, now." There was so much command in his voice, and it scared all three girls out of the Taco Bell.

The cashier looked at you hugging yourself. "Don't worry about people like her." He told you. I've seen thirsty people like that a lot more in this Taco Bell than you might think actually." He offered you a smile, and you gave him a half-hearted laugh.

"Thanks. It was nice meeting you." You said quietly, weakly smiling as you and Loki left.

You both walked in silence on the way to your apartment. Soon you took off the cape and handed it to Loki. "Y/n, are you–"

"I'm not cold." You said blankly. He didn't press, simply nodding as he made the cape disappear. You then made it to the steps of the apartment complex. "Good night."

You began to walk upstairs, but Loki grabbed your wrist. "What about your food?" He held up the bag.

You shrugged. "Not hungry anymore."

Loki stepped closer. "Let me in the apartment. We need to talk and I prefer we do it in private." You didn't want to get him upset so you weakly nodded, walking up the stairs together and into your small apartment. Loki shut the door. "Why are you upset?"

"I'm not–"

"You're not a liar, so don't become one. Now why are you upset?"

"Because what happens when you realize that girl's right? I mean, you saw my body today! I can't even try to hide it anymore since you've seen basically everything. I just feel like sooner or later you'll realize that I'm nothing special and eventually get bored or sick of me and–"

"Stop talking." He said as he grabbed your arms.

"Okay." You squeaked.

He then brought you in for a hug. "Love, how many times must I tell you to stop thinking so poorly of yourself? You know I don't see you that way, and never will. That woman was just... What the nice cashier man said... She was, um, thirsty."

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. "Do you even know what that means?" You asked.

"A person who does bawdy actions to get someone to bed them?" He asked as he looked down curiously at you.

You smiled. "Yeah actually."

He drew his eyes to your lips, his thumb stroking your bottom lip. "I think you're the most gorgeous woman in all the nine realms. Everything about you draws me in. Not just your amazing looks, but your light aura, your laugh, your kindness and how genuine you are with me. How can anybody not love you?"

You looked up at him, shocked, and didn't say anything. You gently grabbed his wrist to move his hand away and stood on your toes to give him a short, soft kiss. You two looked at each other in silence before he grabbed your face and pulled you into a passionate kiss. Your lips fit so well with his, so right. This felt right.

He titled his head to deepen the kiss, licking your bottom lip as a request. You opened your mouth a little wider to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He eventually left wet kisses on your jaw and trailed it down to your neck, nipping slightly. When you felt his hands feel under your shirt, you grabbed his arms to stop him. He pulled back immediately.

"Please forgive me! I don't know what came over me. I violated your trust and–"

"Loki, stop talking." You copied after him. You gave him a peck on the lips. "You're fine. I have really strong feelings for you, and you have no idea how happy I am right now. But I want to savour this. I want to take it slow."

"You do?" He looked at you sceptically. You excitedly nodded and grinned. He brought you in for a big hug. "I've never been wanted this way before. The feeling is intoxicating."

"That's just you feeling really happy. And you know you're always wanted with me." You gave him a bunch of pecks on the face, feeling the rumble of his chuckling. "C'mon, let's eat our food."

#loki (marvel)#loki laufeyson #loki imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel loki #loki marvel #loki mcu #mcu loki #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x y/n #loki layfeyson x reader

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frenchlangdon · 5 years

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Late Night Louisiana Pt. 7

Summary: It’s late 19th century, Y/N moves to Louisiana to learn more about vampires. But what happens when she finds one likely creature of the night at Porterhollow Cemetery?

LNL Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!bucky x reader

Warning: brief mention of rape

"About earlier. That kiss. I'm not trying to start anything. I'm— there's— I'm no good at relationships. It would only end up in a mess." I said. I sat down on the chair in my kitchen

It's true, I've had a couple of men along the way, the relationships almost always end in disaster.

And I don't know if it was me or them. It always felt like it was my fault, they were always sure to tell me it was my fault.

"What are you feeling?" He sat down in one of the chairs next to me.

"Confused."

"About what?"

"I really like you. And I want to know more about you. And I want to be your friend, I really do. But I can't be harboring feelings for you. And you can't do the same either. It would just make us miserable."

"So you're saying that you feel the same way, you just don't want to be with me? Is it because of what I am? Is it because I scare you?"

"You are the most kind and gentle man I've ever met. You don't scare me, not one bit. I just think we'd be better off as friends."

"I can't just make them go away. The feelings, I mean. It's not like I can just make them vanish. But if you wish to just be friends, then we shall just be friends."

"We've only known each other for two days, you know." I chuckled, I stare into his eyes.

"You should know I don’t like everybody I meet. I don’t trust just anybody. You’re different, I can sense it. I can connect with very few people and have this feeling like I've known them my whole life, you're one of those people. I feel drawn to you. You're magnificent and kind. And you're very beautiful."

"Will you protect me, Wreck?"

"Of course, Y/N."

"Will you always tell me the truth?"

"Always."

"Will you tell me your name? You’re real name?" He hesitated for a moment.

"You already know it. James. James Buchanan Barnes, but back then friends called me Bucky." A small smile crept up on his lips.

"I should've known! You said it so quickly, I thought you might've known someone with that name or your alias."

"Will you tell me some of the stories you've heard about me?"

"Well no ones knows much about you, the stories are very vague. Most of the towns whores say you've slept with them, took the bandana off when you did the deed, some said you had honey brown eyes and other says emerald green eyes. Said you kept coming back for more." I bit my lip as I tried to hold in laughter.

"That's odious!" He scrunched his face up and physically cringed. "No. I haven't laid with a woman in decades. It's crossed my mind many a nights, but, no. Never. I could never sleep with one of those women. Nothing against who they are, just wouldn't want to catch something."

My eyes widen at the last sentence and he laughed.

"Have you ever laid with a man before?"

My body stiffened at the question, he was blunt and straight to the point. But the question reminded me of something I tried to forget every single day. "Yeah. I have." I looked down to my hands that were resting on the table. I traced shapes on the smooth surface, trying to keep my mind from those formidable memories. "Did I upset you?" He asked. He leaned down trying to look at my face.

"No. Just, I've um, l-laid with one man, uh, it was a terrible experience." I look to the the ground where my feet were. "Did he..."

"Yeah. He did." I whispered. My whole body felt uneasy, saying the words out loud was torture for me.

I had gotten drunk one night and a man took me to his house, against my will. I woke up the next morning and didn’t know what had happened the night before and I was feeling incredibly sore.

As the months went by I remembered certain things, terrible, awful things.

"My darling, I'm sorry. We don't have to carry on with this conversation. I can't imagine how it's affected you." He lays his hand on top of my hand that rests on the table, causing me to flinch.

The only thing I can do is nod, and I barely manage to do that.

"You've shown me such kindness over the past two days. I appreciate that, I truly do. In return, if you would, I'd like to stay with you. To protect you, from the evil of this world. Only if you would allow it. If you wish for me to be gone, then I'll be gone within seconds. I can see a great friendship unfolding if you let me stay."

I stare at him in disbelief, "I'd love for you to stay, I do get lonely here by myself sometimes but wouldn't you get tired of me after awhile?" I chuckled. "I mean you'd get bored for sure, I'm not an interesting gal."

"That's not true. You're very interesting, you can read, not a lot of women around here can read, well back then at least. I don't know about now."

"Well I'm sure there are more women around here that can read. But enough about that! What would you like to do the rest of the day?"

Truth be told, I hate talking about myself or of any subject that involves me, call it an insecurity, but for me I just hate being the topic of discussion.

"Why don't we go back to the lake?" He said.

"Yeah sure! Do you want to go for a swim?"

"I don't have anything to swim in." His brows furrowed and his lips frowned. I can't lie, he looked really cute.

"I'll buy you something." I beamed.

"I can't let you do that." He argued.

I stood up from the chair and walked to the door.

"You need a new set of clothes anyways, you can't wear the same outfit you've worn for the past couple decades." I playfully winked at him. I walked out of the house, he followed behind me.

On the way to the shop, we talked a little bit about everything, the sea, the outlaws he stayed with for a bit. It's so easy talking to him. He doesn't make you feel inferior or anything close like that. Nowadays people are so egotistical if they have a silver spoon. It's truly disgusting.

We make it to the shop and Wanda greets us.

"Y/N! Good evening!" She flashed her beautiful smile. "And who might this be?" She asked.

"This is Bucky, a friend from Texas. He's come down here to live with me."

Bucky walks closer to Wanda and shakes her hand. "Pleasure to meet you, miss." She nodded, her smile widened. "Pleasure to meet you, too, Bucky."

I got a couple outfits for him, he was a very picky shopper, at the end we got him black trousers and a couple tan and white long sleeve shirts. Nothing too fancy, he said.

I packed the new clothes in my leather bag and bid Wanda goodbye, we made our way to the lake.

"Isn't it just beautiful?" I said, we sat down on the sand, I set the bag down in between us. "It is, I've missed the water." He let out a sigh and kept his eyes on the moving water. "Why didn't you ever come down here?"

"I did, every couple a years, I don't know why I stayed in the cemetery for so long. I felt like it was the safest place for me."

"Why is that?"

"Because the dead can't judge you."

"I'll never judge you, y’know." I grabbed his hand intertwining it with mine, I brought the back of his hand up to my lips, gently kissing it.

We sat in silence after that. It was a moment I'll never forget. The sun was setting, the remainder of the sun reflecting off the water, the muffled music from across the street inside the tavern, the sounds of nature.

"You know, this is my favorite time of the day. When everything is winding down. It's so peaceful, and the sun isn't too harsh, it's perfect. I call it late night Louisiana. Has a ring to it, don't it?"

"It sure does, sugar." His lips curved upwards into a smile. His smile. How have I never noticed how perfect it was? His eyes crinkle whenever he smiles. Why is his face so perfect? Maybe being with him wouldn't be such a bad idea...

"Do you want to become human again? Fully human, I mean. With no abilities."

"I'd give anything to be normal again. Anything." He withdrew his hand from mine and looked down to the sand. "Maybe we can visit the voodoo shop tomorrow, they have elixirs in there, we can see what they have. Nobody ever buys their potions and elixirs because of your story."

He shrugged and lifted his head back up to look at me. Sadness deep in his eyes, laced with longing. "What if none of them work?"

"Well, we'll find out once we get there, won't we?"

"I guess."

I hugged his torso, "Let's go to the tavern."

We both get up and dust the sand off of our bodies. I grabbed my bag and we were off to the tavern across the street.

Bucky and I go inside and he orders the both of us a beer. I catch Steve walking past the windows of the tavern. I jump off the bar stool and turn to Bucky, "I have to go outside real quick. I'll be right back." I run out of the tavern and holler for Steve.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. I walk up to him. "Hey stranger. Did you buy that book, that Stark's Amazing Finds?"

"I did, why?" He raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well I was wanting to show Bucky what a walrus and a seal looked like. I was wondering maybe I could borrow it for a day." He scoffed and looked to the side, he kicked a rock with his boot.

"Why didn't you ever mention him to me?" Steve asked. "I guess I forgot to tell you about him."

"Y/N, we tell each other everything it at least that's what I thought. Why didn't you tell me he was moving in with you?"

"Steve, I just forgot. I'm sorry. Why do you care so much? It's not really a big deal."

"He said you were getting lonely livin all by yourself, why didn't you ask me to move in? I would‘ve."

He stepped closer. "I didn't think you'd want to live with me. You hate it when I talk about vampires. I can only imagine you getting frustrated with me everyday because I'm so focused on finding that damned vampire." I leaned against the outside brick wall of the tavern. I look up to Steve, he was up against the brick wall, staring at the water. The orange glow of the sun shone on his face, his blue eyes were even brighter, if possible.

"I would've learned to deal with it." He said, he turned his body towards me.

Nothing else was said. We were both staring into each other's eyes. He wanted to say something, I could feel it in my bones. “What is it?” I asked.

“I wanted to tell you something. It’s really important.” He started fidgeting, beads of sweat were on his forehead.

“Hey, you can tell me anything. You know that.” I smiled and intertwined our hands together. “Uh... Bruce is coming back into town.”

“Oh...” I let out a shaky breath, my heart was beating out my chest. It felt like somebody had knocked the wind outta me. “Do we know when he’s supposed to be here?”

“Sometime next week.”

“Next week?”

“Yeah, next week.”

“Is he— is he bringing...”

“Yeah. She’s coming too.”

#bucky x reader #bucky au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes mini series #bucky barnes x reader #vampire!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #late night louisiana #vampire!au #vampire!bucky

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mariocki · 5 years

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The Missing Million (1942)

"Look 'ere Inspector, this ain't right. An Englishman's 'ome is his castle, even if it is one room and a gas ring. 'Ere am I, sitting, cooking me sausages, happy and peaceful like - and in come your fellas to tell me I'm wanted, what for? I ain't done nothing, I've been too busy. So I ask yer - what's it all about?"

"It's about opening a safe."

"But they acquitted me!"

The latest in my ongoing quest to watch as many Edgar Wallace potboilers as humanly possible, 1942's The Missing Million is a comforting return to form after the disappointment of Crossroads To Crime (1960, discussed elsewhere on this blog). All the classic EW tropes are in play - a mysterious blackmailer known only by an unusual pseudonym, petty criminals acting as comic relief, square-jawed policemen and plucky heroines. None of it is especially original, and if you've watched one EW adaptation it can often feel like you've seen them all - but it's cheerful and charming, and sometimes an obvious twist can be just as fun as an unexpected one.

Based on Wallace's 1923 novel of the same name, TMM is a fairly straight adaptation in terms of plot. The major characters are all present, as are the main set pieces, with only a few names changed here and there. Interestingly, the blackmailer is known here as The Panda - a typically outlandish Wallace name (his other books featuring such villains as The Ringer, The Terror, and The Frog), but this appears to be an invention of the film; in the novel, the blackmailer signs himself 'Kupie'. Another change is in dropping all reference to the two male leads' former heroics in WW1 - perhaps unsurprising, given that the film was produced during WW2.

The Panda - also known as The Prince of Blackmail - has set his sights on young Rex Walton, soon to be married to the beautiful Dora Coleman. Rex has inherited a fortune, and looks set to lose it all, until suddenly Rex - and a million of his fortune - disappear. Luckily for Rex, his feisty sister Joan and Scotland Yard man Inspector Dicker set about solving the case and bringing The Panda to justice - with a little help from safe-breaker Nobby Knowles. Cue much night-time creeping, a trio of murders, and some funny business about chicken broth.

Our cast is a mixed bunch, but all equip themselves well. The intrepid Inspector is played by John Stuart, a leading man of British silent film who managed to hold his own once the talkies took over. Helping him crack the case are the lovely Linden Travers, as Joan, and Charles Victor as Nobby. Travers gets a much better deal than many of the leading ladies in Wallace adaptations - Joan is feisty, independent, and refuses to be intimidated by the villains. The romantic aspect to her relationship with Dicker is both inevitable and inexplicable - it seems you couldn't make a film in the 40's without your leads ending up together, but although Stuart and Travers are both very good in their roles, there's nothing in their chemistry to suggest they'd be interested in one another.

Nobby is an altogether more complicated character. He's the classic Wallace comic-crook, a safe-breaker who ends up aiding the police and helping to save the day. And he is funny - he gets the best lines, some great physical moments, and a scene in which he breaks into a safe he once installed is a masterclass in smug, self confident villainy. However, he's also painfully misogynistic. I'm not applying a 2018 mindset to a 75 year old film here, either; when Nobby is first introduced, he's referred to by another character as "The woman-hater", and it doesn't really get any better from there. For every great line or eye-roll he delivers, there's an uncomfortable comment about the evils of women and a withering assessment of their 'weaknesses' and 'tricks'. It's unpleasant, and it detracts from the film - and it makes Nobby, who should be the most likeable element in the film, into a nauseating bore. (For a masterclass in how to play a Wallace comic-crook, see William Hartnell's perfect performance in the 1952 version of The Ringer).

Rounding out the cast are Patricia Hilliard as Dora, and John Warwick, Brefni O'Rorke and Valentine Dyall as a selection of suspects. Hilliard is very good, although this was her final film role - she retired soon after. Dora doesn't get to be quite as tough or as feisty as Joan, but Hilliard mixes vulnerability with stoicism to produce an endearing and sweet character. Dyall - soon to find fame with his treacley voice on BBC radio, as The Man In Black on the long running Appointment With Fear (and almost forty years before he stuck a crow on his head as the Black Guardian in Doctor Who) - plays against type as a snivelly, cowardly lawyer mixed up in The Panda's intrigues. He also gets the biggest (inadvertent) laugh in the film, as Rex admonishes him for his weakness and his dishonesty, all while Dyall tucks into a hearty breakfast.

It ends, as all Wallace projects must, quite happily. Wrongs are righted, the wicked are punished and love has been found. There are some twists along the way - and to be fair, a few of them were actually quite surprising - and then everyone goes home, presumably for tea. It's very British, and it's very comfortable - there's nothing to suggest the world was tearing itself apart as these characters variously charm, cheat and hoodwink one another. It might not be very challenging, and it might not be very original - but it's Wallace, and that's enough.

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monstrous-beauty · 4 years

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Monstrous Beauty Text Posts

Jake: What (and i cannot stress this enough) the fuck/ sure. blame the guy who's a huge idiot who causes a lot problems, again/ Me in jail: so are you guys familiar with the cell block tango/ Apparently "the vibes are off" isn't a just excuse to leave work early/ what, from the bottom of my heart, the fuck/ what doesn't kill doesn't kill you/ yesterday at target the cashier said "your receipt is the bag* and I responded with "you too" so I've been dealing with that for the past 18 hours but I'm slowly coming to terms with it which is cool/ *enters my own password* i'm in/ due to personal reasons I will be cheating death/ *gets down on one knee* *gets down on the other* *doesn't get up ever*/ Not to be dramatic but if I don't get my life together I will die/ I have pure intentions, bitch! you can't kill me/ cop: can you describe the guy who stabbed you me: yeah he was not very friendly

Storm: Which is messier my life or my hair/ "I am unknowable" I say as I overshare my biggest childhood trauma's in the first conversation with someone/ I love laying the FUCK down and sleeping/ me: [vibrating slightly because I had too much caffeine] everything in the world is my fault/ my only goal in life is to destroy the space-time continuum/ i am a huge fan of space, both outer and personal/ Yeah sex is great but have you looked at common English words and then followed their systematic time changes back through Old English and Proto-Germanic all to the way to their Proto-Indo-European roots, whispered one of those roots out loud, and been overwhelmed by a sense of Lovecraftian insignificance as it dawns on you that you just reached back across scores of centuries and spoke a word older than civilization itself?/ but i don't have a hyperfixation i'll die

Adrienne: im so tired of this life. i want to be a roomba. i want knives taped to me. i want to be set loose./ are my prophetic visions a joke to you/ There has been a lady inside my head screaming for the past 10 years and u think taking a bath and doing yoga will stop her? U are wrong. She is a very mad lady and she will not be silenced/ Cranky because you haven't had any prophetic dreams to aid you on your quest aren't you/ i wish it was 1600 so i cood spelle words howe everr my harte destyred/ me: *hangs out with little kids and tries to teach them self love and feminist ideas*/ Pros and cons of wearing all black pros: hot as hell cons: hot as hell/ If someone points at your black clothes and asks you who's funeral it is, a look around the room and casual "haven't decided yet" is a good response

Solais: mentally i'm at least 5"11. physically? don't worry about it/ don't call yourself edgy unless you talk to dead people and have daddy issues/ im a simple gal. people raise their voices at me, i cry for an hour/ once i figure out how to hold a conversation it's frienship for you bitches/ me: *is tiny* me: (;'._.');/ no homo bro *thinks about you* thinks about you* *thinks about you* *thinks about you* *thinks about you* *thinks about you* *thinks about you*/ Listen man I'm just trying to wear soft sweaters and read my books and love myself/ i was put on this earth to eat bagels and be gay/ actually Ratatouille is the dish's name, you're thinking of Ratatouille's monster. im what the kids call

attention seeking/ me gay? why yes thank you for noticing/ on all levels except physical, i am a little heart shaped candy that says "i'm all yours!"/ nothing is awkward or cheesy if you don't give a fuck. i'm on this earth to have a good time. not to be cool./ i aspire to be one of those people who is known for always smelling good and treating people kindly/ big heart energy/ me @ you: >> this is my protecting women and girls knife/ doing violence tonight so watch out if you're weak to attacks/ why did my last two braincells have to be a sad one and a stupid one/ goes to the kitchen holds a knife in my hand for a while. puts it back. goes back to my room

Mal: these hands rated e for everyone/ forgive me father for I have sinned in all the coolest and most glamorous ways possible/ "I expected better from you" well that was your fault lmao i got nothing to do with that/ im beautiful im delicious i literally cannot die i want 200 dollars/ friendly reminder that i literally cannot die, and id love to see any of you fuckers try to take me down/ Slutty in theory but not in practice/ I just wannna be vaguely unsettling, not even scary or creepy, I just want people to look at me and feel like there's something A Little Bit Wrong but they don't know what when they tell the story of the slighty cryptid being to their friends later/ Hmmm gay rights but only for me i think? The rest of you are on your own/ i say i'm gay a lot for someone who is technically bisexual/ occupation: the family disappointment/ [steps on my emotions and grinds them under my heel] anyways/ i am evil and not straight/ me: breathes parents: I AM SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR ATTITUDE/ you ever listen to your dad talk and be like "why are you like this?"/ dont you hate when you wake up and you're awake/ oh god...oh fuck...*yearns*/ Due to personal reasons I'll be going feral/ Quitting school to become a plant who wants to join me we can make a forest/ Anyways! *climbs out of the scattered and ruined debris of my feelings*/ so what if i love you. shut up/ i ask myself 48 times a day "am I being dramatic? Is this #toomuch?" the answer is always yes of course/ *lawyer voice* eat a dick, your honor/ I may seem like an asshole but deep down I'm good person and even deeper down I'm a bigger asshole/ in my defense, i was left unattended

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amaintainedrisk · 5 years

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i'm sorry if anybody is worried about me.

I think the most disturbing thing about the century is that I’m not even scratching the surface about what has been going on around here and what my family has been doing to me but I don’t have it in me to tell everything right now. It’s going to have to wait until this headache passes.

Still don't have a phone. The abuse has gotten so much worse and I cannot get anyone to help me. My mother and my aunt have done nothing but torture me since my grandmother died and taking it out on me. I've spent the last three months locked away in my room, and I'm lucky if I eat once a day. They have turn the Internet off so I can't use my iPad to tell anybody or talk to anyone to tell them about this. The only reason I can update right now is because I waited for my mother to leave and I want and ask my neighbor for her Wi-Fi password. She was kind enough to let me use her Wi-Fi.

One of the reasons the abuse has gotten so much worse is because my grandmother completely destroyed her house and we didn't know it. We were trying to clean it up but we didn't have time and they gave us an evection notice and now we are being sued for the damages my grandmother left. They have been taking their frustration out on me. My medicine has been stolen over and over again and I can't tell my nurse because I'll get put into a group home with people who have mental illnesses and don't take their meds. there have been reports of people being attacked there and I'm blind and can't defend myself. I know I'm being abused here but it's the evil I know. At least hear there's no chance of me being sexually assaulted again like at the Cleveland clinic.

Today alone on my mother has done is scream at me and tell me I'm worthless and how much life for her would've been better if I had been born. How much she loves my aunt and my cousins more than me. How much easier it's going to be for everyone once I'm gone. I've spent all day in my room crying while they told me this and laughing. I would not let them in my room but that didn't stop them from doing it outside the door. They wanted me to hear. I have always known he hated me and considered me a burden but whenever they get stressed out they take it out on me. Now because of what my grandmother did to her house, we might get sued and obviously we don't have the money. So it's been taken out on me and for two months straight it's just been me at the age of 32 years old being locked in my room all day long. Some days I don't even go down to eat. It has gotten so much worse since my grandmother died and that's why I haven't said anything because I'm so tired of giving bad news and talking about how much my family hurts me.

even worse, my mother seizure condition has gotten worse so I have to listen to her tell me I'm worthless every day and then turn around and take care of her at night. So she doesn't throw up in her sleep or swallow her tongue. I'm barely getting any sleep and it's worse when I don't have my meds because they're being stolen and again, if I report them, I'll get put in a group home with people who could really, really hurt me. my mother has been screaming at me all day and I can tell she starting to have a seizure so I have another long night ahead of me of taking care of the person who told me recently that if I had a heart attack and died. She would be happy. I actually recorded a bunch of stuff my mother said to me, about how I deserve to be beaten when I was a little kid and I recorded her laughing at me when I fell and hurt myself and I uploaded it all to my vineo Account. I password-protected The videos because they are embarrassing and I didn't want anybody but my friends to hear it. The password for all of my password-protected videos is just my name: "dani" without the quotes.

to make matters worse, my health has been declining as well. As my brain sinks down into my spinal cord, I am now myself having seizures. It means I've entered the last stage of my condition. but I have to suffer through my seizures alone. No one will help me so I just collapse alone in my room and wake up whenever it's over by myself and if I say something I get called a liar and that I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I'm terrified one day soon I'm going to have a seizure and I'm not gonna wake up and I'm just going to be laying up you're dead for weeks because no one will check on me. It scares me the most for Carly because I don't want him to starve to death because nobody knows to feed or water him because I'm not allowed to do it. The doctor told me I had less than two years to live in June and I've spent the last seven months alone and dealing with this by myself and knowing the end is coming and my life has been completely wasted and I can't do anything about it now without making it worse on myself. I don't want to die in a homeless shelter or being assaulted in a group home, Which my social worker has said there have been reports of in every group home in this area.

I had to stop typing this because my mother came upstairs to pick a fight with me and told me she hates me and she loves my aunt and my cousins more and she doesn't care that they abused me. They are her family and I am not . I'm her worthless burden daughter who does nothing but disappoint her. And I'm going to have to take care of this woman all night to make sure she doesn't swallow her tongue or throw up in the middle of the night. I don't have my medicine. I won't be able to sleep and I haven't eaten today and I'm having my own seizures but I have to take care of my mother because if she doesn't have me she will die in her sleep and it will be all my fault and then that would make me no better than her. I am not my family. I may be a burden and yes, it would've been better if I wasn't born but I'm here now and I'm not going to do to them what they do to me every day. I even put up a video of my mother telling me I deserved to be beaten at the age of three years old because I left the room. It's on my vineo.

do you see why I haven't updated? Nobody should have to sit through my whining and crying about the same old thing again. About a 32-year-old woman who is being abused and letting it happen. I've been waiting six months for a new phone and now the Internet is gone so i've beensk for my neighbors Wi-Fi password and I am praying she doesn't tell my mother she gave that to me. I couldn't ask her not to say anything because that would've drawn too much attention to it and probably would've screwed me over even worse. so I have the Internet again now… Kind of. It's really spotty. But it's better than nothing.

Another reason I didn't want to update is because I know that Monsie and Christina would ask me to move in with them. and I can't with my health declining so much. I cannot ask my friends to literally be my nurses aids. Especially now that I'm having seizures and I've entered stage four. It is going to be much worse later on if I don't want to spend the last few months I have being a burden on me only two people who care about me and don't abuse me. I refuse to do that I will slowly lose my functions and I am not going to be some unholy burden that… I can't even say because it's so embarrassing. Let's just say the symptoms, near the end, we're going to make me lose control of every single one of my functions. if that wasn't the case I would leave in a second because I am getting just so fed up with life but I'm just having thoughts of ending it every day. Not because of the physical pain but because of the mental pain of being told I'm so unloved and worthless and a burden. The mental pain of knowing my life has been a waste and at the end I'm going to die unhappy and alone. Never experiencing love or life of any kind and Diane a complete failure of a human being. I have tried so hard to get away from these fucking people but I can't without hurting myself more. my grandfather is dying now too and I can't even see him. I have no family here because my mother has told every family member that I have left a bunch of lies about me so they think I'm a horrible person too. They don't know that I spend almost every night sitting by my mother's bedside making sure she doesn't die from her seizure, only to be told I'm worthless and hated all day the next day. The only reason I ran for my neighbors Wi-Fi today is because today it has been particularly hard and abusive and it's caused me to have two seizures today alone. I'm so tired of all of this and I'm just ready to die already because there's no point in staying. Last night at 6 AM after I was done with my mommy duty and watching her over her I just laid in bed and cried and raised my arms and screamed out please help me to a God I don't even believe in. yelling out to the ceiling for someone to hold me and tell me I'm not worthless I'm not a burden. To tell me I'm loved. To tell me not to be scared to die because I won't have to die alone and my life hasn't been a waste. But of course my pleas went

unheard. I am so tired of my mother choosing my aunt over me after all I have done for her and I would do anything to get away from her but I'm out of options, especially with no phone and now no Internet except for the spotty Wi-Fi.

So that's why I didn't update. I had no Internet but even if I did, what good would it have done? It's just the same thing every day. I am so alone and so broken and so scared and it's my own fault because of the age of 32 I shouldn't be allowing this to happen. I'm so ashamed of my family, and of myself. if I could find somewhere to go that would take my Medicaid and a doctor would treat me, and it wasn't a homeless shelter or group home and it wasn't where I would be a burden to my friends, I would go in a heartbeat. in a heartbeat. but I can't find a place like that. My aunt stole my great grandmothers rings when I was in the hospital and my mother knows it. It happened years ago but today she brought it up again and said she didn't want to hear me talk about her stealing it because she's sick of me picking on my aunt for little things. Stealing family keepsakes given to me by a family member that died when I was 12 that I deeply loved isn't very little but she said I was a bad person for bringing it up. My aunt isn't bad for stealing it but I'm a bad person for talking about her stealing it and it just got worse from there when she started talking about all the ways she cares more about my aunt than me even though my aunt treats her like shit as well and refuses to help her. Even though she knows I'm the one taking care of her all night long she still packs my aunt over me and all I heard about today is how I'm not part of the family and how everyone has always been sick of me.

Yeah, this whiny shameful update really needed to happen. It's just the same abusive shit that has just gotten so much worse since my grandmother died. I was hoping it would get better but I was completely wrong and completely stupid for even thinking that. Of course it got worse.

And again my mother is now outside the hall so I have to whisper. She's faking a phone call to somebody or she actually is talking to somebody and she's doing it loud enough for me to here so I can hear her telling them all these lies about things I said or did today that I never did or said just because she wants me to suffer because she stressed out and wants to take it out on me.

… It's been 35 minutes since I wrote that last line. I just had another seizure. The stress is literally killing me faster and I don't know what to do. If I tell on them I go to a place that's extremely dangerous and a blind person cannot defend themselves like that. I'd rather be yelled that van raped or beaten, the way people have been in there Group houses that are my only option. I looked up news reports and police reports and they are just not safe so I have to put up with this.

if you can see this or read this, thank you for your friendship because it's the only thing that has kept me going even though I haven't talk to you in months. You are all I think about and you were the only reason I have ever felt loved in my life. without you I would be dying never knowing what love felt like at all so at least you gave me back and for that I am so grateful and I miss you so much. thank you for being my friends. I'm about to go to bed tonight feeling alone and hated by my family. Going to cry myself to sleep wondering why my mother loves my aunt more than me to the point where she's happy that my aunt abused me. It's going to break me and give me nightmares like it does every night. But every morning I wake up and think of you and I hold on and I would give anything to be with you right now if only I would be such a burden. You can try to text my iPad. Hopefully I will get it now that I have Wi-Fi but my phone is completely a no go. I miss you guys so much and I love you so much and I'm so fucking sorry for being a bad friend and for once again doing nothing but whine and complain. I don't deserve you but I'm so glad to have you anyway. I love you.

I love you.

this is the link to my Vimeo Page:

https://vimeo.com/user79298455

although I just noticed that I don’t think the password-protected videos are listed so I have to post each link one by one down here. I’m not asking anyone to listen to all of them. Or even one of them. I just put them up here so I can document the way my mother treats me so people know I’m not making it up or lying when I say my mothers abusive. The password to each video is the same one: dani

Deserved to be beaten

https://vimeo.com/300103444

Mental and physical

https://vimeo.com/300103444

when they abuse me, it’s to protect my feelings

https://vimeo.com/297632955

worthless

https://vimeo.com/270006846

nervous breakdown

https://vimeo.com/266402098

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