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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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aquarium ii | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader; ex-jungkook x reader

summary: Life after Jeon Jungkook was grey. You had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. But what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in Kim Taehyung’s hand.

warnings: reader discretion is advised: a (half-hearted) suicide attempt; mentions of cheating in previous relationship; language; heavy angst; fluffiest fluff; non-idol!AU; kind garden-loving landlord!Taehyung x reader; ft. sadboi!Jungkook

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part i

now playing – without me by halsey ft. JUICE WRLD

tell me, how's it feel sittin' up there? feelin’ so high, but too far away to hold me

You couldn’t remember that night very well, because you didn’t come up.

The worst part about being cheated on was not the actual cheating. It was the moment where you thought you had done something wrong, like somehow it was your fault it happened, like if you hadn’t done this or that, maybe things would have been different. Maybe if you hadn’t chosen that night to snoop into Jeon Jungkook’s phone, he would have had second thoughts, deleted it all, and loved you again. Maybe if you were a little kinder, a little more attentive, he wouldn’t have fallen out of love with you. Maybe... Maybe.

Maybe.

You knew that was just your brain trying to rationalize his irrationality. You had done wrong by invading his privacy by acting on sheer gut feeling. And you had run away, without confronting it, without giving him a chance, because you knew, you knew that if you gave him a chance, you would believe all his words, get dragged back into his sea, back into those dangerous waters.

All these thoughts coursed through you as the water closed in.

The milky bathwater was slowly replacing your depleting air, leaking into your lungs and you didn’t fight it, turning the darkness of the underside of your eyelids into light, because deep down you still loved him, no matter how stupid or foolish it was. Your heart still clung to his soft, I’m sorry, and you didn’t want to hear it anymore.

You didn’t want to know what loving Jeon Jungkook was like anymore. It was too painful.

you know i'm the one who put you up there name in the sky, does it ever get lonely?

You gave everything so he could be what he wanted to be, not knowing that you were the one slowly being eroded. No one could tell you. You were the one who had to find the signs. You were the one who found yourself trapped in glass walls, stuck in an aquarium, surrounded on all sides by Jeon Jungkook as he made a mockery of your feelings.

You screamed into the water and no one heard you.

The next memory you had was hazy, barely there.

You felt a tightness in your chest, harsh, solid pressure. A frustrated, agonized voice above you, desperately calling your name in deep baritone, desperately asking you to come back, praying in every language he knew for you to come back, come back, please, please, please.

“Please…”

In the whiteness, you wandered. Were you meant to be here? It was a loose fog. You looked around, seeing traces of memory like torn book pages, slipping through the haze. You reached out to touch them and they disappeared, only mirages.

And then you fell, dragged into dark blue, torn, battered, lungs burning as you struggled to stay afloat, coughing hard, your muscles screaming with asphyxiation, sudden oxygen flooding your brain. You whipped your head to the side, hacking up water, spilling it all over the green tiles of the bathroom floor, head pounding. Thoughts swimming, barely computing the shouting above you.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” one voice growled above your jerking body, so venomous that it made your blood run cold. “You absolute disaster of a man, thinking for one fucking second she would even consider taking you back. Look at her! She’d rather drown herself in my damn bathtub than hold a conversation with you!”

“What the fuck do you know?” The familiar voice, the voice that haunted you in your nightmares, the voice that fed you sweet poison. “She would do anything for me! She worships the fucking ground I walk on!”

You curled up into a ball, head pounding by the sudden explosion of light and sound. There was a towel over you, covering your wet naked body, and yet you shivered. You barely registered Kim Taehyung snarling, rising to his feet.

“You narcissistic bastard,” Taehyung spat out. “Get the fuck out of my house. Get the fuck out and don’t ever come near her again or I’ll break your fucking neck.”

“You can’t do anything to me. You’re a nobody,” Jeon Jungkook taunted. “Unlike you, I actually have money to sue you for assault.”

Apparently, Taehyung did not give a single shit, because he immediately roared and launched himself past you, the brown ball slamming into the black wall. You blinked, trying to register what was happening, but it was too much for you and your brain that was slowly trying to restore function due to lack of oxygen. They tumbled down the stairs and you laid your head against the floor, hearing the grunts and shouting, wondering why Taehyung had come back.

Wondering how he knew.

You closed your eyes.

In your dreams, you saw the soft sunlight glowing against Taehyung’s tan skin as he reached down to retrieve a dark green cucumber to show you. It was a bit wonky and hadn’t grown quite right, but you watched Taehyung tap it and smile to himself.

“Doesn’t matter what it looks like on the outside,” he said cheerfully. “I know it will still taste delicious because I gave it love.”

You tried to go back to work, but it was awful.

You loved your work. Perhaps it was boring to others, accounting all day, but it was mundane and peaceful, always knowing what you had to do. You never had to question the numbers. The numbers were what they were and that was that.

But now when you stared out into the grey urban jungle, it pained you.

What once was your safe haven turned into your cage, chaining you to clock in, clock out. You would go home to a motel nearby, crying into unfamiliar, starched sheets, pitying housekeepers preparing your meals, asking you what was wrong and you couldn’t tell them.

Because you didn’t know.

i'm sad inside, but i know it's for the best, right? you had to realize where you drew the line

You didn’t check his social media. You didn’t check his Twitch, his Instagram, his Twitter. You got a new phone, only giving your new number to your work and your parents. With a start, you realized you hadn’t contacted your old high school friends in years. You had lost them all, committing social suicide for Jeon Jungkook. In fact, you had no social media presence, so there was no need to download those apps.

There was nothing on your old phone that you wanted. It sat in the storage unit, forgotten. You didn’t want to turn on your old phone to see the photos, the lock screen of his arms around you, smile on his face from two years ago.

A smile you didn’t even know was real or fake.

i still hate it when you’re not there

You tried to tell yourself you were fine, because moping over Jeon Jungkook was stupid. But you had invested so much. You had given him everything. It was hard to regrow. You were stuffed in this tiny motel room, staring out to the hazy, polluted city, yellow sunlight fighting to be seen.

You sat by the window, clutching your pink flats, remembering Taehyung’s last words to you before you left.

“I looked up the brand and bought you some new ones,” he had said sheepishly. “I felt bad that they got so ruined, all because I asked you to help me with the garden.” He gave you that big, boxy smile. “Just think of them as a parting gift for being such a great tenant.”

You inhaled a deep breath, placing the pale pink flats next to the exact same style but grass-stained, greyed-out, worn ones. You stared at them both.

And made a choice.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

You lifted your head. The scent of flowers, so familiar and comforting, wafted around you, a reassuring embrace. You were wearing a long-sleeved white dress, a brown ribbon around the collar. The pink flats, the ones the owner of the deep baritone voice had gifted you.

That was nearly six months ago now. You had since thrown away the other ones.

Kim Taehyung walked up to you. He was wearing brown overalls and a cream shirt, elbows smeared with dirt. His skin had lightened due to the passing winter, but it was spring now. The flower shop was very busy, but there were other employees, and Taehyung was fixated on you.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Taehyung said quietly, his brown eyes shimmering. “I would have come here a lot more often if I knew.”

You bit you lip and bowed your head politely, smiling at him. Taehyung coughed and rubbed the back of his head, messing up his dark brown hair. It was longer and curlier now, desperately needing a trim.

“I… I came to get carnations. The shop I normally go to ran out.”

You nodded, leading him wordlessly to the red and pink carnations. There was still a good number left, but you had to pick through carefully to find the most beautiful ones for him. He watched you work, chewing on his lip. You held up the large bouquet to him.

“What do you think?” you asked softly.

He smiled at you. “Perfect.” He didn’t ask the price. “Could you make two corsages out of a few of them?”

“Of course. Right this way.”

You brought him to one of the counters, selecting a few blooms to make the corsages. You showed him the available ribbons and he picked a thin, sheer white one. He watched you work, quickly, but delicately, careful not to bruise the petals.

“You became an expert about flowers,” he remarked. “I’m still struggling.”

You smiled. “I’m still learning. It’s very different from what I used to do.” You twisted the ribbon into a perfect bow, using floral wire to secure it.

“You don’t talk to him anymore, do you?”

You shook your head. “Haven’t seen him since that day you threw him down your stairs.”

Taehyung laughed a little too loud, making the patrons stare at him. He coughed nervously, cramming the crumpled brown hat under his arm onto his head. You placed your hand over your lips, trying to hide your chuckle. Your fingertips smelled like phloem sap from the cut stems, sweet and grassy.

Taehyung gazed at you, surrounded by flowers, carnations laid out on the counter.

“Will you… let me take a picture of you?”

You blinked at him, lips parting.

Taehyung reached into his pocket, pulling out an old 35mm film camera. He looked sheepish as he held it up, hesitating.

“Sorry, I just… you look so beautiful, and I don’t want to forget that.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I know it’s a weird habit. But I like to take pictures and I never took one of you.” He looked deep into your eyes.

“I really regret not taking a picture of you.”

Your fingers were still over your mouth. You nodded.

Taehyung held the camera up and snapped a photo.

“He waits for you to get off work every day. It’s been a week now.”

The manager was teasing you, nudging your arm as you tugged on your long camel coat. You smiled at her, an old woman with knowing eyes that had seen and enjoyed a lot of life. Taehyung waved across the street as you made eye contact with him.

“There aren’t men like him anymore, you know,” she said gently. “These kinds of things happened in my generation, but now young people send pictures of flowers instead of the real thing.”

When you thanked the manager and walked out to Taehyung, he held out a small bundle of tiny flowers to you. White cosmos. You stopped, surprised. Breathless as you looked up at him. He was illuminated by a streetlight and the dying sun, the golden hour matching his golden skin. Holding out the white cosmos, shivering in the spring breeze.

“They’re not that pretty,” he said guiltily, stepping up to you. “I’ve been trying to grow flowers for months now and these are the only ones that survived, ahahaha…”

He scratched his head, brushing his hair back.

“I always hoped that if I saw you again, I could show you that I was able to finally grow flowers.” Taehyung laughed, shrugging apologetically. “This is all I got.”

You reached out and took the small bundle from him. They were a bit curled and slightly wilted from being carried around but you smiled at them.

“No one has ever grown flowers for me,” you said quietly.

The tiny yellow centers of each flower were surrounded by white. You counted seven. Taehyung had given you seven flowers. Seven flowers he grew on his own, because he wanted to show you. You placed your fingers on your mouth, the scent of the floral shop returning to you with the action. Your chest felt tight and full, a feeling unlike any other.

“I wanted to grow at least eight,” Taehyung lamented. “Because that would be luckier, but…”

You shook your head quickly, looking up at him. Him and his beautiful brown eyes, a small patch of dirt underneath his cheek. He probably didn’t even know it was there.

“No.”

You removed your hand from your lips and smiled at him.

“Seven is perfect.”

You threw your hands around him and hugged him tightly.

When Jeon Jungkook saw you again, everything was different.

He was distracting himself from school. University was much harder than he thought, especially since he didn’t attend right after high school to pursue his streaming career.

For a long time, he had someone to take care of him, first his mom and then you. Someone to do everything so he could recklessly chase his dreams. But things were different now. He had to suddenly become an adult. It wasn’t because of you. You hadn’t told anyone what happened.

But everyone knew.

One girl had let it slip, and then another and another, and then screenshots were plastered everywhere, all over the internet for anyone to see, not knowing the context, tossing judgements left and right. His parents found out and then his friends, everyone disappointed in him, not surprised that you vanished without a trace. He had to vanish too, every sponsor cutting ties with him immediately, not asking if it was true or not. It was bad for business to be associated with something like that.

Jungkook really regretted it now, but there was nothing he could do to take it back.

That’s why he was sitting in this tiny, one room apartment, using what was leftover from his streaming money to get a degree, saving every penny to his education. At least he hadn’t been so reckless to overspend. You hadn’t let him, always reminding him to save for his future, using your own income to pay for the necessities.

Even now, you were helping him.

Every once in a while, Jungkook would type variations of your old Instagram username into the search bar, wondering if you had ever set it up again. He had asked you to delete it, since you had been getting constant DMs from guys asking you out, sending you unsolicited dick pics. You had agreed, even through you could have fought him or simply privated it.

You had deleted it, Jungkook knew now, because he asked you and you loved him.

It hurt to know that you loved him so dearly and he was too busy feeding his own ego to see it.

When Jungkook saw you again, you were surrounded by flowers.

Your profile picture was a close up shot of your beautiful face, golden sun against your skin, a white cosmos tucked behind your ear. He knew it was you. He could tell by the shape of your lips, the contours of your eyes, even through your eyes were closed. Wearing a white dress, the ruffles fluttering in the wind.

Jungkook was breathless, seeing you again. He scrolled through your pictures. They were mostly of flowers, with captions of how to grow them. Were you a florist now? Some of them were of you in different dresses, surrounded by blue sky and green summer. The smile on your face was so dazzling that he wondered who gave you that smile.

His heart wrenched uncomfortably in his chest.

Or maybe it wasn’t a someone.

There was a time when that smile was his. There was a time when he could make you smile like that, your lips saying his name breathlessly – “Jungkook, Jungkook, look at this!” – showing him something silly or giving him his favorite banana milk with special edition packaging, saying how cute it was, just like him.

He blinked and a droplet fell onto his phone.

Right on your smiling face, hand holding a large straw hat, your pink dress fluttering in the wind.

Jungkook wiped it away, swiping at his tears with the sleeve of his black sweatshirt, wondering why had he taken that smile for granted, why he had drifted away from the safe coast, why he had thought, even for a second, that the days and nights you spent cleaning after him meant that you were keeping yourself busy and away from him, not seeing it for what it was, not seeing that it was your love for him and his own sloppiness that left him here now, staring at your summer as his summer was torn from him by textbooks and lectures.

He shuddered, still looking at the pictures, not wanting to miss a moment, even if they weren’t his moments anymore.

One of your pictures was a bundle of seven white cosmos, a little wilted and sad-looking.

Jungkook read the caption.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t think you’re beautiful. Because there is someone out there who thinks you are. They use every resource they know to give you love, even if it’s clumsy at first. Even if you don’t think you need it or want it.

The tears were really coming now, streaming down his cheeks as Jungkook asked himself why, why did he give this up?

They celebrate you and your love instead of simply tolerating it.

You sat on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the side.

Your pink flats were right beside you, and your arms were resting on the wooden fence. The ocean breeze was strong here, salty and cold. But you didn’t feel the cold, because Kim Taehyung had wrapped a thick wool blanket around you two. It was already night, but by the seaside it was still chilly, even in the summer, due to the sea breeze.

He peeled the foil back on a roasted sweet yam, taking off some of the skin so you could bite into it. You tried to take it from him but he shook his head, frowning at you. You laughed and took a bite, scalding your mouth from how hot it was. But it still tasted good.

“I asked my parents if I could have it.”

You looked up at him, trying to blow the steaming air from your mouth in attempt to cool off.

“The cottage?”

Taehyung nodded, taking a bite and wincing. “You’ll never guess what they said.”

You smiled. “What did they say?”

He scowled. “Then pay rent!” He waved a hand to the seaside house behind you two. “They own it! Why do I have to pay rent? I’m their son!”

You giggled, hiding your mouth behind you hand. Taehyung angrily bit into the sweet yam again and choked, forgetting how hot it was. Your giggles turned into full-blown laughter, falling back onto the grass, wool softening your fall. Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you, shaking the yam furiously. The white moonlight glinted off the silver foil. He puffed his cheeks and sighed as your laughter faded out.

You looked up at the stars, realizing how clear the sky was here.

It was nothing like the city.

Even in darkness, the white stars shone against the black, bright and clear. You wouldn’t have seen them if you weren’t here, on your back and looking up at them.

“Anyway, they only said it was a hundred won, so I guess that’s fine,” Taehyung grumbled. “Really made me worried there for a second, sheesh.”

You turned your head to look up at him. “You going to live here?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“No, you are.”

You blinked, taken aback. He rewrapped the yam, determining it was too hot to eat right now. He gazed down at you, smiling a little.

“It’s better than that one room you have in that house. Safer too.”

You chewed on your lip. “But I can’t pay the amount I paid when I rented it…”

Taehyung poked you with the yam. “Weren’t you listening? The rent is a hundred won. No, two hundred for you, since I have to make some profit.”

He laid down next to you, eye to eye now, smile getting bigger.

“Although I hear there’s this annoying gardener that comes around every day caring for the plants.”

You were smiling now too, drawn by his cheeky, boxy grin.

“Really? I think he’s pretty cute. I think that’s how he gets away with it.”

His brown eyes locked with yours.

“Will you let me care for you too?”

The sound of the sea, crashing into the rockface, constructing a new memory for you.

“I know you’ll be much harder than a plant,” Taehyung murmured quietly. “Sorry, that’s a dumb thing to say, I meant–”

You pressed your lips against his, cold air chilling your cheeks, warmth spreading throughout your soul.

When you pulled away, breathless, Taehyung was staring at you, eyes wide. Those three words came to you, words that you thought you were never going to say again, words you had for someone else, but you knew this was the right one, the perfect flower.

The one who struggled to grow seven flowers.

White cosmos.

Just for you.

“I love you, Kim Taehyung.”

The next summer.

Seven flowers. White cosmos, bright, glowing, perfectly shaped. Surrounding your left hand. The ring finger held a princess-cut diamond surrounded by six tiny small ones like petals.

The caption.

He grew them perfectly this time.

Jeon Jungkook sighed heavily, placing his phone back in his pocket. The noise around him was loud, clattering and chattering, now a familiar atmosphere. The black bucket hat was low over his eyes, shrouding them. He pulled his face mask higher, hiding his features, not wanting to be recognized. Internet shame was enough; he didn’t need public shame as well. He already had to switch universities because of it.

Jungkook placed his hand back onto the subway rail, shouldering his backpack, staring out the train window at the black tunnel.

masterpost

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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lemonpeter · 3 years

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Desperate

@preciouspeterbparker is an enabler 💕 and I love her for it. She sent me a concept for my au I’d explained a little while before and I was OBSESSED, so I’m sure hoping I did it justice 💕

Warnings: the whole thing is extremely nff, a/b/o, both alpha and omega Peter (I explain it here), alpha Tony, very brief bottom Tony (like one paragraph right at the beginning and Peter thinking about it), s*x toy use god I hope this shows up in the tags

@serrabloodsong

————

“Come on, baby, give it to me,” Tony panted, pressing his hips back until they were flush against Peter’s.

Peter groaned, holding onto his alpha’s hips as he kept fucking forward. He’d never felt anything so incredible, addicted to the vice-like grip of Tony’s ass. It was tight and slick and so different than the stimulation he got from just being fucked.

“I’m so close, Tony.” A soft whine escaped his throat as his hips lost their rhythm. He could feel the tension in his belly about to snap as he approached his high.

His eyes snapped open as soon as he finished, a weak moan leaving him. His hips stuttered forward as he spilled across the pillow that was tucked between his legs. His hand dropped between his legs to squeeze at his knot, now fully grown, the sensation causing his body to jolt and another spurt of cum to leak onto the pillow.

Once he had completely ridden out his high, he went lax against the bed. He was slightly sore from the amount of tension his body had held, but he’d heal. He was more concerned about the dream.

It was the fifth one that week.

Sure, it wasn’t abnormal for him to have wet dreams. Even with all the sex he had, his drive was so high that he was often waking up to slick-soaked sheets and a bit of a wet patch on the blanket.

No, the concerning part was how he was on top in every dream. And how he woke up with a popped knot.

He was a genetic miracle, having presented with characteristics of both an alpha and omega. But since he was primarily omega, it was extremely rare for him to knot anything, or even have the urge to. He always bottomed with Tony and that made him happy. He didn’t need anything else.

But his alpha side seemed to want to be brought to light suddenly. He’d been dreaming about fucking his alpha, something he’d never seriously considered before. And he woke up every morning with his knot buried in a pillow he’d been fucking unconsciously.

He didn’t know what to do.

There was no way that he could ask Tony about anything like that. For the most part they ignored his differences, especially during sex. As far as either of them were concerned he was strictly omega during those times. So it would have been odd to bring up the alpha bottoming occasionally.

And there was also the issue of pain. Alphas weren’t designed to take a knot. And it was pretty impossible without a ton of prep, which Peter was fairly sure neither of them completely knew what to do. There was no way he would hurt Tony ever. So he figured it was best to just...leave it.

Which worked...for about a week.

He kept having the dreams, but luckily Tony left for work before Peter got up, so he never saw his partner’s predicament. Peter let himself ride out the high every morning and then hid the evidence by quickly tossing everything into the washer.

It was easy enough to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was happening. He dealt with it first thing in the morning and then got on with his day.

But then the thoughts started bleeding into his conscious mind.

He’d eat lunch with Tony when he had a break and find himself fantasizing about what it would be like to have the alpha bent over the table for him. His mind would conjure up images of Tony’s body eagerly taking his cock. Then his knot after.

Peter imagined watching in fascination and pride as his cum dripped from the alpha’s puffy hole after they were done.

His cheeks burned as the alpha brought up how distracted he seemed. “What? Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about...class.” Like his daily physics work would cause him to space out and drool like that.

But Tony didn’t argue, just shrugging off the answer with an, “Alright, honey.”

The excuses and zoning out were becoming all too common for Peter.

He knew that he needed to find a solution. It wasn’t going to work if he kept up how he was going.

Since he was the only person with his condition (that he was aware of), it wasn’t like he could just hop on Google and look up a solution to his highly specific problem. But maybe he could figure out smaller questions and find solutions for those instead of the big picture.

And that was how he found himself in front of his computer, staring at the search bar. In incognito mode, of course. He wouldn’t be able to look Tony in the eye if these searches were discovered.

He wasn’t quite sure where to start. The entire thing felt a bit overwhelming to him, especially since he couldn’t just find an answer for the entire thing. He had to break it up and he didn’t quite know how to.

So he tried to start simple.

‘alpha wet dream fix’

The only results he got there were articles about why wet dreams happen and instructing to just have more sexual release in the day to day life. Which he already got, he knew that wasn’t the issue.

On to the next search.

‘male omega want to top’

All that came up was porn. Pages and pages of porn.

He clicked on one link, heart pounding as he watched the small omega in the video fucking his alpha hard and fast. The alpha encouraged him the whole time, spouting words of encouragement in between sounds of obvious pleasure.

It was incredibly hot. But not exactly what he was looking for.

‘Knotting in sleep’

He got more porn, somnophilia this time. He tried to reword his search, looking into ‘alpha alone sleep knotting’.

Some more porn, but then he thought maybe he saw a search that could be helpful. His eyes skimmed over the article after he clicked on it.

“‘Sometimes an alpha will involuntarily knot during sleep, most often...if they haven’t had stimulation regularly.’” Peter read out loud, fingers tapping against his temple.

He didn’t get it. Well, he got it. But it didn’t make any sense.

He hadn’t done anything but bottom for years. And he was completely okay with it. The alpha urges hadn’t been there.

But suddenly they were. And he absolutely couldn’t figure out why.

His fingers drummed against his desk as he tried to figure out what to do next. Of course, he didn’t figure that there was any way he’d get a straight answer for what was going on with him. It was just like everything else in his life, a lot of questions with no real answers.

His eyes drifted over the search results again and he hummed as he reached the ‘also asked’ questions.

“‘How can a single alpha safely knot?’” He read off, clicking to expand the tab until the associated link came up. He clicked it as well, eyebrows raised.

There wasn’t much he actually knew about the alpha biology. Even after presenting, he figured it wouldn’t matter since he was mainly omega anyways. It had never occurred to him that maybe knotting outside of a confined environment wouldn’t be safe.

Reading over the Q&A the link brought him to, he realized that he was lucky he hadn’t been hurt by his nightly activities. Even if none of it had been on purpose.

Luckily, he was also supplied with solutions.

“A toy?” Peter mumbled. The only toy he’d ever owned was a dildo with a fake knot on it. And as far as he knew Tony didn’t own anything like what he was seeing in the pictures.

But he didn’t have another choice, really. The sleeve would provide him with a chance to test out knotting on his own and was a safe way to do it.

So he clicked over to another tab, looking up alpha-specific sex toys. And there were...a lot of results.

The alpha part of his brain seemed to switch on, immediately thinking of how each toy would feel on him and which would be best. He scrolled through pages, flipped between stores, all to end up ordering just one. A basic fleshlight that he hoped would do the job. It claimed to be for knotting as well, so he had hope that it would be good.

As he added a few different types of synthetic slick to his cart, he prayed that Tony didn’t look too closely at how he was spending money. But he knew it was all going to come out to a decent sum.

He’d deal with that when he came to it.

After confirming all of the orders, he stood up from the desk and headed back to the bedroom. He grabbed his tablet on the way, determined to continue his research. There had to be some explanation for his sudden urges.

He just had to put in the effort to figure out what it was.

***

Despite how he’d read it was dangerous, his body refused to stop its morning wake up call of an unbelievable orgasm and a fully swollen knot.

He still seemed safe, so he didn’t stress about it too much. It just gave him a bit more pause every time it happened.

And the stimulation felt so good, he couldn’t help but want it to continue on some level. But as always, the knot shrunk again once he had come down from his high and he couldn’t seem to figure out a way to get it back. The only time he was able to knot was from those dreams, his intense fantasies of fucking his alpha.

Great.

His mind was almost constantly on the concept now. He couldn’t stop thinking about it no matter how hard he tried. All of his daydreams became about topping Tony in various positions and locations. Then the daydreams snuck into his normal thoughts again. And every moment felt like one long daydream.

Only his alpha wasn’t really part of any of it, since Peter still hadn’t told him. And he didn’t plan on doing so.

It definitely made things harder. But he didn’t want to freak Tony out by revealing how needy his alpha side was getting or make him feel guilty for not wanting to bottom.

He could take care of himself. That would be alright.

***

“Pete, a package came for you,” Tony called, getting ready to leave back for work after his lunch break. “Friday just informed me that it’s at the front desk downstairs, so you can go get that.” He didn’t ask what it was, too preoccupied by thoughts of work and all he had to get done.

Which was perfectly fine with Peter.

He looked up as Tony talked, eyes widening slightly. It had to have been his toy (and the other things purchased with it.) He didn’t have a habit of purchasing much, so it had to be that if it came specifically for him.

As soon as the alpha had left, he raced downstairs to get the package. And he was ripping into the box without shame instantly when he was upstairs again.

He so badly wanted to try it out. He was desperate to knot, needing to feel how good things could be.

Peter looked over the toy, almost fascinated as he studied it. It was just like it had been in the picture, a smooth plastic body covering a soft silicone sleeve. The entrance looked almost disturbingly like his own pussy, soft pink-flushed lips spread slightly around a small hole.

He could feel himself slicking just from looking at it. And his cock was getting interested as well, slowly starting to chub up in his soft sweatpants.

There was no way he wanted to wait any longer. He was desperate to knot, his alpha side frustrated but calming gradually at the promise of knotting the toy. So he tossed the box in the trash, gathered the lube, and carried everything to the bedroom.

Once he was there, he set everything on the bed while he slowly stripped. His boxers were tossed into the hamper, already soaked through with slick. He was so easily worked up it was almost embarrassing.

But he didn’t dwell on it, sitting on the bed once he was completely bare. The bottles of lube sat next to the sleeve, seemingly begging to be picked up.

He grabbed one, reading the label. It claimed to be the best in the business, bragging about its slide. And that was good enough for Peter. He tore the packaging off and clicked the top open.

While he poured the liquid over his fingers, he looked at the toy again. “How am I doing this?” He wondered out loud, picking it up with his clean hand.

He got an idea, sliding his wet fingers over the lips of the entrance. And his cock gave a twitch as he looked at it.

It looked good, but he knew just a little lube wouldn’t be enough. So he grabbed the bottle again, pouring some of the fake slick directly into the sleeve.

And oh, it looked incredible.

It was a vulgar sight, slick dripping from the pussy. And he couldn’t wait to fuck it.

He set the bottle of lube to the side, laying on his back as he figured out what he was going to do. It seemed like a good start to just...fuck up into the toy while lying on his back. It would be a comfortable enough position to lay in when- well, if he knotted it. But he was pretty sure he’d be able to.

His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking it a couple times before letting go again. He was definitely hard, erection laying heavy against his belly. But his knot stayed small, barely visible at the base.

He knew that would change soon.

He held onto his cock, positioning the toy just above it in order to start.

When he slowly started sinking the sleeve over him, he wondered why he hadn’t considered getting one sooner. It was so tight and wet and-

Completely overwhelming.

The toy was only halfway down his cock before his muscles were tensing and he was spilling into it. Just like that. No buildup, no knot, not even any actual fucking.

“Fuck, oh- shit,” he breathed, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Thank god no one was there to see him. He’d just cum like a virgin, despite being nowhere close.

Although...technically he was one when it came to topping. He hadn’t thought about that.

He pulled the sleeve off again, face still bright red. “I...wow. I didn’t expect that,” he whispered into the silent room.

The first try definitely hadn’t gone how he expected it to. But he was reminded that he had an incredibly short recovery period. Evident from how his cock had never gone fully soft and was already beginning to fill out again.

So he didn’t waste any time before he was slipping the toy onto him again, making sure to take a long pause to make sure he was under control before moving it any.

He came embarrassingly fast a few more times before he was able to actually start fucking it. And every single time his knot stayed uninvolved. No matter how good it felt to fuck into the faux pussy, he would have an incredible orgasm but his knot refused to grow.

He was lost in the pleasure and frustration as he kept going, continuing to work himself up and fuck the toy. It lasted longer every time, although he lost count of the rounds he’d done.

Probably somewhere around...five? Six? He had no idea. The first few had been so short they barely counted in his mind.

But he was finally in the best one, it felt like. It was lasting longer than the rest and if he focused hard enough it was like he could feel a faint tingling in his knot.

His high was approaching quickly and he knew it, nearly praying that his knot would finally pop this time.

But he got distracted for just a moment when he heard something.

Peter froze momentarily as he heard the bedroom door creaking open, but he didn’t keep still for long. Even if he had been caught, he needed to cum. Obviously he’d been found out anyways, he might as well finish what he was doing.

How was Tony home already? It had only been…

He glanced to the alarm clock quickly, groaning as he saw the time. He’d been going for hours. How had he fucked the day away like that?

And it was, indeed, time for Tony to be home.

“Honey?” The alpha asked curiously, stepping inside the room and looking right at the bed. He raised his eyebrows as he noticed what he was looking at, however. The sight before him definitely wasn’t what he’d expected.

Peter looked at him, a guilty look flashing over his face briefly before changing to one of pleasure again. “Tony,” he moaned. “I- oh, fuck, please.”

Tony didn’t know what he was begging for. Or maybe he did, but he was too stunned to figure it out. “Peter….” He’d never seen his partner like this.

But he didn’t hate it.

He watched how Peter’s hips kept thrusting frantically, fucking into a toy so quickly his motions were little more than a blur. And his words were flooding out before he could even think about it. “That’s it, baby. Come on, you can do it. You need to cum? Go ahead, baby. You’re doing so well.”

A choked moan pulled itself from Peter’s throat at the encouragement. And it was just what he needed to reach another high.

He twitched forward, grinding against the toy as he spilled into it. Cum dripped out of the sides, his loads still nearly full even after his fucking-marathon. “Fuck, Tony,” he whimpered, chest heaving with his breaths.

He hadn’t wanted to tell his alpha what was going on with him. But the look in Tony’s eyes made him think that maybe it would have been okay.

In his panic and high he hadn’t even initially noticed that he still hadn’t popped his knot. But he realized it once he was immediately able to pull out of the toy to move closer to the alpha who was still standing at the door.

“Tony, I can explain,” he said weakly.

The alpha held up a hand, making the other man whimper. But he quickly elaborated. “You don’t have to. We can talk later. For now...that looked amazing, baby. Did you have fun?”

Peter started nodding, but ended up whining softly.

Tony moved to the bed, looking at the toy. It shouldn’t have looked as appealing as it did to him. It wasn’t much, just smooth plastic and then soft silicone in a flesh tone that looked vaguely like an omega’s pussy. But what made it was the obscene amount of cum leaking from it. And the knowledge that all of it had come from his darling partner. “Certainly looks like you had fun,” he mused.

“I did...just…” Peter sighed, dropping his eyes to look at his cock. It was half-hard still, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. His eyes were on the slight bump at the base that stayed small despite how hard he was trying to make it swell. “Oh, Tony.” He sighed again, the sound heavier this time.

“Talk to me,” the alpha encouraged, moving to sit down on the bed. “What’s up? Wasn’t it...fulfilling?”

A weak laugh was pulled from the younger man. “Not exactly.” He crawled to the alpha, leaning against him. “I know you said I don’t have to explain, but I do.” He took a deep breath.

Tony nodded, watching him intently. “Okay.”

“You know how I’m...mixed up. Both omega and alpha.”

“Of course.” They didn’t talk about it much, but that didn’t mean that he’d forgotten. He would have been a pretty bad partner if he forgot about something like that.

“Well, I’ve always felt more omega. You know that. That hasn’t changed. But lately things have been...weird,” he said slowly.

“Okay...weird how?”

Peter looked down again. “I’ve been having these...dreams.” Oh, Tony was going to hate him. Shame him. Or something.

“Alright...dreams, weird, I’m following.”

“I keep dreaming about being on top. Uh, giving. During sex.” His cheeks burned. No matter how long he was sexually active, no matter how much they did, he’d always get flustered somehow. “And a big thing in the dreams is...knotting you.”

Tony nodded, not taking his eyes off of his partner. “And is that something you want?”

“No! I mean…yes? I don’t know. I’ve always been happy with the way we did things. And I’m still happy with it. I just.” He made a frustrated noise. “I feel like something is missing. Especially since I keep waking up with a popped knot but I can’t seem to get it any other time.”

“So that’s the reason for the toy,” the alpha murmured, looking at it. “And you haven’t been able to knot it?”

“No,” Peter whined. “I’ve been at it all day. It feels good, but there’s just something missing. I want to knot it.”

“You want to knot it or you want to knot me?” Tony asked, watching him. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he waited for an answer, eyes trailing over his partner’s body.

Peter wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Sure, in his dreams he was on top. The one in control. But he didn’t really want that. He liked the way that he and Tony did things, with the full-alpha on top. Peter liked receiving. He just wanted to knot, no matter how he needed to do it. “The...the toy. I think.”

Tony nodded, picking it up. His fingers swiped over the entrance of it quickly, gathering up a bit of the cum that had leaked out. He pressed his fingers to Peter’s lips, smirking slightly as the young man shivered before taking the digits into his mouth. “In that case, I have a proposal. You want to hear it?”

Peter nodded, still suckling on the fingers gently.

“Okay. Well, you said you’re happy with how we do things, right? So I say we keep doing them. But you can try something new.” He held up the toy again, watching Peter’s reactions. “I’ll fuck you like normal. And you can fuck this. And we can see if that changes anything.”

The younger man moaned around Tony’s fingers, nodding. He hadn’t thought of that, but it sounded wonderful.

Tony grinned at him, slowly pulling his fingers away. “In that case, do you think you have one more round in you, honey?” His hand dipped between his partner’s legs, fingers finding his entrance and spreading the lips slightly. “You’re absolutely soaked, baby. You’ve been neglecting this pretty pussy, haven’t you?” He clicked his tongue. “I’ll have to change that.”

Peter moaned again, clenching down around nothing as he felt the tips of the alpha’s fingers tracing his entrance. “Please. I want this, please. I can go one more time.” He was tired, but he was determined he could do this.

“Okay, baby. Let’s figure out how we need to do this.”

Tony hummed softly, pulling away just to assess the situation. There were a couple ways that he figured things would work out, but only one really stood out to him.

“Let’s see if this will work,” he mused. “Lay on your back, Pete.” He watched as the man did as he asked, nodding. “Good boy. Now….” he moved between his legs, positioning himself like he was going to fuck him. “Does this seem alright?”

Peter nodded quickly, breathing hard. He looked being able to watch his alpha while he was fucked. It was one of his favorite positions. But…

Before Peter could voice his concerns, Tony was grabbing the fleshlight and putting it in his hands. “So while I fuck you, you can fuck up into this. Sound okay?”

His cheeks burned as he took the toy, but he nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Perfect,” Tony murmured. “Now, want to get started?”

They both couldn’t wait any longer.

Peter nodded, the tip of his cock rubbing against the already-slick entrance of the toy. There was still cum from his previous play dripping out, but he made no move to clean it up. He figured that it would only help.

Tony hummed, looking over him. He unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down just enough to free his throbbing cock. No extra stimulation needed, just watching and talking to Peter was enough. Plus the promise of what was about to happen.

“Wow,” Peter whispered, eyes wide. He never got over Tony’s size. And he knew from experience how good all of it felt. He couldn’t wait to take it again.

“I’m sure you’re already wet enough, honey,” the alpha mused, his fingers sliding against Peter’s entrance once more. “I know you need to be filled….” he pushed two fingers inside up to the second knuckle. “So open for me already.”

Peter cried out, clenching down around the fingers. “Please, Tony. I need- fuck, I need you to fuck me already.” He didn’t want to be teased and fingered slowly. He wanted to get to the main event.

“Needy thing,” Tony commented, pulling his fingers out quickly. “But I’ll give you what you want. Just don’t forget that you’re supposed to be fucking that while I’m fucking you.” He tapped the toy.

“Of course,” Peter told him, the tip of his cock still poised to push into it as soon as things started.

“Okay, good boy,” the alpha praised gently. He rubbed the tip of his cock against Peter’s hole, watching how it fluttered in anticipation of what was to come.

He just couldn’t help himself.

He started pushing in slowly, a low groan building in his chest. No matter how much they had sex, Peter was always so perfectly tight. It was incredible every single time.

And at the same time, Peter sunk the toy onto his own cock with a moan. The dual sensations were incredible, better than he ever could have imagined. He felt Tony filling his pussy while his toy squeezed around him deliciously.

Just the initial feeling was almost enough to push him to the edge again. But he managed to calm himself down.

Tony took a shaky breath, taking a moment to get used to the tightness around his cock. It was intense, Peter obviously had only been focusing on his own cock. So his pussy was still incredibly tight, and constantly clenching down as he got used to the different sensations.

The alpha was pretty sure that neither of them would be lasting very long. But he knew it wouldn’t bother him. And it probably wouldn’t bother Peter either.

“Ready for me to move?” He asked gently, holding onto his partner’s hips carefully. He saw the look on Peter’s face and laughed softly. “Oh, I know. I mean, I can only imagine how intense things are for you. But they feel extra intense today even just like this.”

Peter smiled a little, nodding. He looked so fucked out already. “Yeah. I’m ready, alpha.”

Tony began moving his hips, just slowly at first. He didn’t want to completely overwhelm either of them. “Tell me how it feels, baby. Fucking your little toy pussy while I fuck you.”

“It-it feels really good,” the younger man whispered. That was a severe understatement, but he found it hard to form words. His hips thrust up into the toy as Tony fucked into him at the same time. Everything was sensitive and pleasurable and perfect.

“Just good?”

Peter whined. “It’s amazing, but- oh, god,” he moaned. His eyes rolled back as Tony started moving faster already. “I’ve never felt so…so good.”

Tony hummed, biting his lip as he kept his thrusts at an even pace. “Really? Hmm, let’s see if we can make it even better….”

“Wha- oh, fuck!” Peter groaned, hips jerking faster as he felt Tony’s fingers brushing over his left nipple. His nipples were always extra sensitive, but adding it to everything he was already feeling was intense. “Don’t!”

“Don’t? You want me to stop?” The alpha grinned at him, moving his hand lower again to rest on his hip. He moaned softly as he watched his partner fuck faster into the toy.

“Just stop that,” Peter instructed. “I don’t- god, don’t want to cum too fast. And it’s already...I already feel….”

Tony hummed, nodding. He couldn’t deny that he already felt the distinct pressure building as well. “It’s okay, baby. But I’ll stop.” Both of his hands stayed on Peter’s hips.

“Thank you.” Peter held onto the sheets with one hand, the other working to quickly slide the sleeve over his cock as he fucked it. His grip tightened on both things and he felt the plastic creaking under his fingertips.

They kept going, bodies in sync. Tony gazed down at his partner, eyes occasionally dropping down to watch everything else going on. But he loved to just watch the pleasured faces that Peter made.

And the other man was feeling nothing but pleasure. He’d held out as long as he possibly could and knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold off the high that was building. “Tony….” He moaned, movement becoming jerkier and less measured. “I’m- fuck, I’m gonna cum, alpha!”

“Then cum for me, baby, let go. This will be the best one,” Tony encouraged, not stopping his movements. He knew that he wasn’t far behind at all.

Peter whimpered, hardly doing anything more than just humping up into the toy now. But- “Tony! Fuck, yes,” he moaned louder, watching as his knot swelled rapidly.

Exactly what he’d been hoping for.

He thrust weakly, forcing his knot into the tight sleeve and he was done. His vision whited out as he came, hips bucking wildly. “Tony!” He cried out, tears leaking from his eyes at the intensity of his orgasm. And it seemed to last forever, the tightness of the toy milking his knot in a way he didn’t know was possible.

His vision blurred again and then he was out, going limp against the bed.

“Shit,” Tony swore, immediately pulling out despite how incredibly close he was. He wouldn’t continue anything without knowing Peter was okay.

It took only a few seconds for him to rouse again, blinking dazedly. “Did I just- oh my god.” He covered his face with one hand. “Please tell me that didn’t just happen.

Tony still looked a little concerned, but laughed weakly. “Which part? God, baby, that must have been good.”

“It was amazing.” And he was still riding out aftershocks. “But...that was embarrassing,” he mumbled. Then he noticed that Tony was no longer inside him and looked painfully hard. “Alpha! I didn’t mean to make you stop.” He wiggled slightly. “It’s okay, I’m okay now. Keep going.”

The alpha chuckled a little, more relaxed. “You’re something else, you know that?” He repositioned himself properly again, tip pressed against Peter’s now-loose pussy. “You’re sure?”

“So sure.”

Peter had gotten what he’d wanted. So he’d be happy to help his alpha.

He finally popped his knot, feeling more fulfilled than he had since the dreams started. And he’d been able to be with Tony to make it happen.

They’d have to do that more often. Although he was sure that neither of them would complain.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #my writing #alpha/omega Peter #I still don’t have an actual au title thing for it yet #but yeah #tw a/b/o #nff #alpha tony stark #someone let me know if i need to add more

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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Fan Club II

A/N: Let the tension begin to build 😈This part is a little shorter than the others but it’s a necessary step - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, anxiety attack, and tender moments

word count: 3.5k

Harry was confused on all levels. Y/N was in his brain like a damn worm and didn’t seem to ever be coming out of it. That was the most frustrating part. It had been about a week, his second bakery visit being short and sweet with another hug and asking for 2 more lemon squares, but he had been a bit bland with texting back. He was trying to distance himself. Not fall for the good girl next door act.

“Harry, please at least make this believable tonight. I’ve seen a few tweets talking about you going to the bakery so someone must have been a fan in there, so make sure tonight you’re a gentleman to her. People are watching.” Jeff Warned. It wasn’t like Harry sat around and complained about her. He barely said a word. He did tell Jeff he didn’t trust her, but he had restricted any social media usage because he knew the moment he found Y/N’s pages he would stalk her for a while. He would need to make sure it didn’t happen.

They were sharing a car to the restaurant, and everyone knew the secret so when they pulled up to Y/N’s place, Harry felt a little more relaxed. Jeff would take over until showtime at the restaurant. There would be paparazzi by the time they left, but going in would be far easier.

Y/N was nervous to say the least. This would be her first time being photographed officially with Harry, holding hands and everything. It was a big deal and she wanted to look nice. She had done her whole routine, showering and smelling nice, doing a light makeup that she saw all his past girlfriends do, and changed into her outfit. She felt sexy but still fashionable, definitely not too expensive. Just the right amount of everything.

When she got the text saying the car was there, she knew it was game time. Y/N made sure to bring her keys, her phone, and wallet, putting it all in a small fashionable blue over the shoulder bag before walking to the elevator and making her way out to the car.

“Hey.” Y/N smiled as she opened the door, climbing into the car and buckling up. God he looked delicious. His hair was all floppy, his outfit matching hers in a strange way. The two of them together looked good, she couldn’t lie. “You look nice.” She said once again, but she really did mean it. “Smell nice too.”

They both sat in the back seat, Jeff and his wife in the front. Harry smiled lightly and nodded. “Uh, thanks. You too.” He went back to his phone. Honestly, if he didn’t? He would have died. Honest to god died. Her tits looked immaculate. Harry hadn’t seen them like this before but he was nearly choking on the way he wanted to bury his face between them. The first he had dated weren’t really all that big in that department— nothing wrong with that. But she had the perfect amount. Perfect handfuls. Something he was positive would be lovely to suck on. Fuck— fucking hell.

He had to look at his phone or he would get hard. Y/N smelled good too. Like coconuts, vanilla. He wasn’t sure if that was a perfume or a bakery thing but he enjoyed it thoroughly. They kind of matched, too. which was weird. They hadn’t discussed it.

Y/N sighed a little, not really knowing what she was expecting considering they were in private. She would rather spend no time with him in private if this was the case. She went all out to look nice for him to just say, ‘you too’? God this would be hard.

“Hi Jeff, hi Glenne, it’s nice to meet you.” Y/N spoke sweetly, “I’d give you a hug, but you know.” She chuckled and sat back, trying to ignore the fact that Harry was ignoring her. What a terrible fake boyfriend he was, really wasn’t into the whole method acting thing.

“Hey!” Jeff greeted. “Are you ready for the first pap run?”

“You sound so cheery about it.” Y/N laughed, “I guess I’m ready.” She shrugged and pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I reckon dinner will be fun, bit more excited about that. Get to chat with you all a little more.” It was the honest truth. She wanted to spend some quality time with Harry and with Jeff and his wife. If she was going to spend a full year knowing them? Hell, she wanted to make the most of it. She didn’t just want to fake being friends with them.

Was she serious? Harry thought. Come on. That wasn’t real. There was no way she actually thought they would buy that excuse. She didn’t give a fuck. No way. But of course— both of them bought into it. It was like Harry was the only one who could see that this was sketchy. That it wasn’t what was right. She was too sweet for her own good and that alone had Harry very, very suspicious. He listened to them chatter and took glances at her every so often. This would be torture for him. The whole thing. He was so physically attracted to her that he was worried that it may show when they weren't supposed to be acting. Y/N seemed to get along with them great. It was another thing that made him want to pull his hair out. She had to be bad in some way. No one was genuinely this nice and sweet without having a bad side. Gorgeous or not.

Jeff and Glenne were genuinely nice people, and Y/N was thankful that at least they were being open. Then again, Jeff was Harry’s best friend, then surely there was just something wrong with her. It had been a few days since they met and Harry wasn’t letting up no matter what she did. It would be a slow burn she assumed. She looked over at him, catching him already looking at her with a small smile. Y/N turned her attention back to the front of the car, watching as Jeff pulled up to the restaurant.

It was go time. Y/N walked out of the car after Harry, moving her hand to hold on to his bicep as they walked towards the restaurant. She didn’t really have a method to her acting, she simply did whatever felt natural. Let herself go whenever they were out in public.

Harry placed his hand over hers and squeezed. He could tell she was nervous, and regardless he didn’t want her to be nervous here and feel upset. Especially when they’d be looked at and photographed.

When they walked into the place, he looped an arm around her waist and let her lean into him. He felt a small hand on his jacket lapel and let her play with it as Jeff took care of the reservation arrangements. They’d been sat outside at a nice place with those bulb string lights, lots of plants. They’d be sat facing people so photos could be taken— but the people wouldn’t know that. He’d have to keep a good face this whole time. It was going to be a new challenge but part of him was giddy to be able to play it up and touch her during this time.

Y/N’s nerves weren’t really that noticeable, but to anyone else it would just seem like she was nervous because she was on a date with Harry. It was a normal reason to be nervous and frankly, she felt it made her seem more relatable. Despite the fact that Harry and Y/N were acting, they seemed to flow quite naturally and easily off of one another. It didn’t take a lot of effort, she just leaned into him whenever he touched her and vice versa.

“Ooo this is nice.” Y/N commented on the look of the place. She had obviously never been here before, but it looked like it would be good. The smell coming from the kitchen was incredible as well. “Thank you again for inviting us out..” Y/N said to Jeff, purposefully saying us instead of me so anyone who heard knew they meant Y/N and Harry as a pair. She scooted her chair a little closer to Harry, making sure there was enough space for them to have subtle touches if need be. Y/N wasn’t sure what Harry would want, but she wanted to have their options open and ready. She had never seen him actually interact with a woman like this except for when he was with Kendall and those photos leaked. She wondered how he would act when he meant for people to see.

Harry felt the pressure but also knew he was lucky Jeff was here to keep the conversation going. He was feeling a little awkward but fell into his conversation relatively easily.

“So the bakery... Harry said it’s lovely. That the lemon squares are amazing.” Glenne broke the ice, opening up her menu. It was a midrange pricing so he was hoping that she wouldn’t freak too bad. Money really wasn’t an object to Harry. Granted, most of his clothes were gifted to him and he didn’t pay for much luxury items because they were sent for promotion, but he didn’t mind spending if it was for a good time. He had millions.

“They are very good. I like them a lot. All of the things are great, though.” Harry complimented sincerely but she wouldn’t know that. His arm hung over the back of her chair, subtly showing ownership. that’s what it would come across as anyways. Most people wouldn’t know this about Harry but he was possessive, jealous, and pathetic when it came to his lovers. He didn’t like sharing. He loved being alone with them and being in their own worlds. He hadn’t had a perfect fantasy of that yet but he figured he may as well get out his affectionate wants when it was supposed to be shown. Pass it off as acting.

Y/N smiled brightly when her bakery was mentioned, her pride and joy. She was just about to speak when he complimented her baking even more. That was cute. Too bad it was all acting. She needed to get out of that mind frame though and really sink into the character. She’d deal with her emotions at a later time.

“That’s sweet, thank you.” Y/N smiled over at him, setting her hand on his thigh and rubbing her thumb against the fabric of his pants. “But yeah, my sister opened it up 5 years ago and I co-own. We have a solid flow of customers. It’s really fun, we’ve been saving to get it refurbished.” Y/N explained, also looking down at the menu. She quickly decided on the grilled miso salmon and carried on speaking. “I want to buy the upstairs bit as well. Want to open it up to local musicians to have gigs there and stuff. Also possibly wanted to do a kids baking class. Lots of ideas.” Y/N smiled, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. She was really ambitious and career driven, always wanting to improve. It was something she took pride in and hopefully Harry would come to admire about her.

Harry was impressed. She had ideas and they didn’t seem to involve being famous, so to speak. She seemed to want her bakery to do well but anyone who had a business desires it to thrive.

“That’s a lovely idea, pet.” His hand took purchase on her shoulder then. It was bare, jacket off so he ran his thumb over the softness of her skin there. Absolutely delicious. Y/N had to know that she was fucking gorgeous. That she had inspired many a man’s fantasies. He could see down her shirt slightly and had to adjust slightly, knowing he would get a stiffy if he continued. Harry was watching for any telltale signs she was lying but from what he could tell, she really did want to do that to her bakery. And that was pretty admirable.

It took a second for Y/N to relax into Harry’s touch, not having expected it. The feeling of his rough calloused fingers caused butterflies to erupt in her tummy. She could only imagine how good they would feel on her clit— fuck she had to stop.

“Lots of musicians in the town would thrive off of it. A little bit of exposure and a place to play goes miles for people who aren’t very hopeful.” Jeff confirmed. “You’ll have to ask Harry for opinions when you do that. He’s good at that stuff— the stage design.”

Y/N hummed in response, “I’m sure Harry could come up with some brilliant ideas, always does.” She complimented, sending him a small wink just to keep the ball rolling. It was nice to be able to flirt and know that it was meant to be reciprocated. Maybe this whole acting thing wouldn’t be too bad? She could just live out her fantasies like this.

The waiter came and brought over a bottle of wine for the table and took all of their orders. Though the restaurant was mid range, she still had a feeling that this was a place posh people went. She’d have to get used to that as well. Y/N felt too normal for places like this, but then again, Jeff was really good at making her feel comfortable.

To Harry, the dinner was weird. Not in a bad way. But he had found that their chairs had gotten closer during the meal. They’d touched each other a bit— not sexually. Or trying to be sexual, he should say. He had been living out part of a mental fantasy, letting her hold his hand and play with his rings when they waited for the food to come. Y/N hadn’t gone for the most expensive thing— rather a cheaper item and he had tried coaxing her into getting something a bit more, but she said no. It was weird that she was acting like money didn’t motivate her. Isn’t that why she took the damn job? But they’d been touching subtly and talking, Harry smiling down at her pretty little face. He had an urge to kiss her too— which had scared the fuck out of him. He wanted to swoop in and taste her gloss before it went away but he couldn’t. When they finished though, Harry looked at her and began to talk.

“Listen— May get intense, yeah? Lots of cameras flashing. Just hold on to my hand and don’t let go.” He was serious. There were a lot of cameras and a lot of flashes and he didn’t want her to freak.

This part did make Y/N nervous. The cameras. She had seen pap videos previously and they always made her uncomfortable to watch. It was scary having people say things to you whilst bright cameras were flashing.

“Okay, I trust you.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, giving him a small smile that really was only meant for him. Part of her didn’t want this night to be over, she wanted to hang out with him some more and chat with him. It was her day off tomorrow so she didn’t mind staying up late and going home if that’s what he wanted. She doubted he would want her to stay the night.

Harry held her hand and as soon as they stepped out, the cameras flashed like crazy. Asking Harry to look at them, to say who his girl was. Who she was. How old she was, what’s her name. Were they dating? But Harry got irritated when he felt her move behind him, seeing someone had pushed her slightly and she had stumbled. He stopped in the middle, gently grabbing her hip and pulling her to walk with him.

“Be careful, mate.” Harry said to the pap, brows furrowed. “Alright, love?” Y/N looked flustered, but nodded. So he continued on, lifting her by her waist and putting her in the car before climbing in behind her. Genuine concern took over when he saw her breathing heavier, face knitted in concern as he gently pulled her over and let her hide her face in his neck. His glare was actually visible to the outside where people took photos through the windows before Jeff sped off. “Hey.. Y/N? You okay?” Harry spoke, pulling her back.

The experience was something Y/N couldn’t explain. As a person who had mild anxiety, she thought that she could handle a situation like that but it was intense in a way that she truly didn’t know what to explain to anyone. You really just had to experience it to know. When she was pushed it really sent her into a small panic, trying her best to hide her face a little now that she’d felt what paps could really be like. Harry came through though and genuinely helped her. She was so thankful for him and for him sticking up for her as well. It meant a lot. It went by so quickly she could barely process it, a bit shaky and out of breath. Going off instinct she nuzzled her face into Harry’s neck, taking deep breaths to calm herself down and relax. It was over, she had jumped the first hurdle and things would get easier from there. At least that’s what she told herself.

“Y—yeah, I’m okay... that was just.. a lot.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, still close to him but she wasn’t sure if that was okay. Y/N decided that it would be more hurtful if he moved her off than if she moved herself, but she really couldn’t do that right now. “I’ll be okay, just need a second..”

“It’s okay.” Harry rubbed her back a few times. He wasn’t a complete asshole. She was obviously shaken and he couldn’t even blame her. He wasn’t sure why so many had popped up— he was positive they’d only called for 3 but, that’s a later question. “You’re alright? Yeah? Shit’s scary sometimes but you made it through.” He didn’t know why he slightly melted but seeing her in genuine fear and feeling her shake slightly against his body made his urge to protect her come right to the front. “Jeff, drive around for a bit, yeah? Pop into Waitrose and get her a drink.” He could tell that she was going to be okay but needed a little coddling. He continued to rub her back and let her hide in his neck. Her breath was hot against his neck, and he felt her start to calm down.When Jeff came back, Harry gave her the drink and gently peeled her away, letting her stay seated close to him. “Slow sips. Just relax. You did great.”

Y/N kept herself nuzzled into the crook of his neck while she waited, finding that to be the safest place on earth. She relaxed just by taking in his scent and feeling his heart beat through the pressure point that beat against where her nose was. That combined with his hand on her back was doing the trick. This wasn’t acting and she knew it wasn’t. It gave her hope that he wasn’t in fact a shit person, he was concerned and cared enough to ask Jeff to drive around some more and get her a drink. She really did appreciate it and him.

“Thank you.” Y/N said quietly, taking the bottle into her still slightly shaky hands and took a small sip before taking another slow one. Y/N did do great, she knew she did. She had seen enough pap videos to know how to elegantly carry herself, but there were way too many paps there. She’d never seen that many. Maybe people were just that excited to see Harry have a girlfriend.

Harry knew later on he wouldn’t regret being kind to her right now. She was genuinely terrified and he didn’t want that for anyone. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she didn’t want fame, but that didn’t mean he could trust her. Maybe he could be nicer. But he had to keep a distance because his cock was not on board with that. It wanted to bury itself in her plump little ass. But whatever— he could use that visual later.

“You’re alright, Y/N.” Harry watched her carefully. “Didn’t know that many were going to be out there but, don’t worry. We’ll make sure we do our very best so that doesn’t happen again.” She wouldn’t get away from paps— but having 20 flashing cameras blinding her and pushing? That wouldn’t ever happen again. He was willing to risk his career on that. No human decency.

“Now, let's get you home.”

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[part 3]

A/N: H is soft, he cracks under pressure 🤧- n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry writing #jarofstyles

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hawkinsschoolcounselor · 4 years

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Breaking down the “leak”

It seems the leak from back in April is on everyone’s minds lately. While I don’t really see anything to suggest it is legit, there’s not really much else to talk about. I think what I’d like to do is go down the leak, bit by bit, and give my thoughts. I’ll be going through the points in the order I see them in a series of screengrabs, so it may not be the order the original post had them. A lot of this seems like it would be from a single episode, likely the first one.

The first thing I see is Steve applying to Hawkins PD, but being rebuffed for his previous vandalism in Season 1. This seems odd considering we never saw the police get involved in that. Steve being a police officer is something born out of fan theory, which further casts doubt in my mind. While it could simply be a nod to fans, it still comes off as out of place. Steve was last shown getting a new job at a video store, and we’re going to see him going for another job already?

The next bit is that Max is depressed and sees the school counselor. She has a fight with Lucas and then dumps him. Working in the school counselor from the earlier reported new characters could have been an attempt to make it seem more legit. I don’t know if that casting report was truly legit since it had more info than I’d expect. Max and Lucas fighting is not terribly surprising. Their relationship was not shown to be all that great in Season 3. Saying Max would be depressed links onto the end of Season 3, so, again, nothing too shocking. This could just be good guesswork as opposed to a leak.

Next is a new character Fred (an orphan, but more on him later) talking to Dustin. Fred tells Dustin that he believes his dad, thought to be dead, is actually alive. He was allegedly experimented on by the lab and then thrown into a mental hospital after he went nuts and killed Fred’s mom. This is a rather big piece of info for a leaker to have. The idea that there were adult test subjects was covered in the Suspicious Minds novel, so it could be a tie-in to that, but this part of the “leak” could also just be fan theories based on that same novel. I can’t see Brenner taking any chances with his work being exposed by throwing a subject into a mental hospital.

Next, we have Dustin having lunch with Nancy and Robin, while Lucas and apparent new character Eddie watch Mike be friendly with a cheerleader. If true, then Season 4 occurs immediately after Season 3, otherwise there’s no way Dustin would be in high school with Nancy and Robin. I was never too clear on what grade exactly Nancy was in, but she could potentially be a senior now. Robin had mentioned being in class with Steve though, so I would’ve thought she’d be his age. Still, it’s possible I suppose. Dustin having lunch with them seems to clash with his Hellfire Club status though, unless this occurs before he joins. One would think he’d eat with his new friends, especially if he ISN’T eating with his old friends. Meanwhile, said old friends are also split, with Lucas hanging out with Eddie and watching Mike be “friendly” with a cheerleader.

The next bit is where we’re told Dustin joins the Hellfire Club (set photos confirm this). It’s described as an elite group of nerds formed by the previously mentioned Fred. Dustin apparently is interested when they play D&D, but Lucas and Mike decline. This both clashes and fits with Season 3. Mike is bothered by Will seeming to move on from D&D, but it could still fit if Mike just doesn’t want to play without Will. Still, this seems to be building a rupture of the Party right after Season 3 showed how good they are together. Yes, it’s normal for kids their age to look to reinvent themselves, but it also goes against what the show was apparently building. Each season does have elements where there’s strife in the Party that gets resolved, but this takes it to an absurd level.

Dustin is then described as being seen as a “runt of the litter” in the Hellfire Club. That’s not really unusual treatment for a freshman in a high school club. His D&D skills and link to Robin gain him cred, apparently. This leads to him getting close to Fred. There’s not a lot here, but this “leak” does spend a lot of time on the Fred/Dustin dynamic.

Next is the “shocker” where Mike and El have a phone/walkie call that doesn’t go well. Mike is losing interest, El picks up on it. She says “I love you” and he says “I know.” Considering the level of detail on some of the other parts, this is rather brief. The exchange is verbatim Empire Strikes Back, and, while that isn’t totally out of the ordinary for this show, it makes me see it as something more fanfiction-y. The idea of them having a “meh” phone call isn’t too weird since we saw at the end of Season 3 that they were definitely not on the same page. It wouldn’t be hard for a fake leaker to come up with something like this. Should it be true, then it could spur El to go back to her possessive and distrustful ways. She may be driven to find out how to get her powers back in order to spy on Mike.

The “leak” specifically mentions there being no plans to include Chernobyl. This is an odd thing to say. I’m not sure how popular a fan theory this is, but it’d be in bad taste to work a real-life deadly disaster into a show like this. I don’t know why the person who wrote this felt the need to specifically debunk this unless they just wanted to seem more legit.

A flashback to Joyce, Hopper, and Lonnie in high school. That’s reasonable, especially since we know Lonnie is back this season in some capacity. I have no doubts that Hopper will be having flashbacks/memories during his captivity. This being believable doesn’t necessarily make this real though, as it’s another thing that’s reasonable to predict.

Despite most of the leak seeming to be from an early point in the season, the leaker goes on to say that there’s 5 major deaths (2 new characters, 3 previously existing characters), one of whom is one of the kids who dies in the final episode. Now perhaps there’s parts of the “leak” that I just don’t see in these screengrabs, but this is very odd. Prior to this is just looks like maybe someone got their hands on the first script somehow, or parts of it anyway. I don’t know how many people would be entrusted with every script, particularly the end, for this very reason. A single script getting out is at least somewhat believable, but this is where I lose any faith in this “leak.”

Finally, the leaker mentions this season taking place over the course of months, ending with the end of the Party’s freshman year. This would indeed be a change from the usual storytelling, and it would have to mean a slowly growing threat as opposed to one already striking in the first episode. That would kinda sorta work now that there’s no superpowered character to fend off the supernatural, but it would leave a lot of skipped time that I’m not sure would work in a show like this.

Will is mysteriously left out of this “leak.” There’s literally no mention of him that I can find unless there’s missing parts I don’t have. Someone who knows who dies would have something to say about Will, but there’s just nothing. It’s especially odd considering that if this is indeed the Party’s freshman year, then Will would have started school with them. The Byers don’t move until sometime in October, so Will would have spent at least a month at Hawkins High. This would also make Season 4 start with the shortest potential time skip, or perhaps no skip at all.

So, IF this leak is genuine:

There is a small, if any, time skip, with Season 4 beginning shortly after the Byers move in October.

Given the above statement, Mike must quickly lose interest in El, possibly even before their planned holiday visit.

The Party falls apart despite them all seeing how good they are together at the end of Season 3.

Max is going through depression, likely related to Billy’s death and everything else that happened (the end of S3 supports this).

Max and Lucas’ relationship gets even worse.

Mike and Lucas don’t want to be seen as nerds

Steve is still just a lost man child, or at least suffering the consequences of having been one for so long.

Robin and Nancy hang out together, and with Dustin until he joins the Hellfire Club

Will is a nonfactor, at least in the episode the bulk of this comes from?

I really have trouble believing this “leak” simply due to how the poster claims knowledge of the ending while the details all seem to be from the first episode. I suppose it’s possible they did legit get the first episode and made up some other stuff, but that seems pointless. For now, I’m just going with the idea that ANY legitimacy in this would be that it’s a real fake “leak” created by someone on the show to mislead fans or create buzz.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things leak

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theexecutionerssong · 4 years

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SKAM FRANCE BTS MASTERPOST

This is a master post of BTS anecdotes told in interviews, at cons, screenings and on social media. Don’t click the read more if you don’t want to lose some of the magic. I know sometimes knowing too much of how a show was shot can ruin it. Also, it’s very obvious that there was more promo starting around season 3 than for the first two seasons, don’t hold it against me. Feel free to message me if you think of something else as I must have forgotten a ton of things.

CASTING, REHEARSALS, BTS IN GENERAL

Skam France had the rights for the 4 seasons first but had to follow the original script almost to a T for the first 2 and if the audience was big enough then they would be allowed to distance themselves from OG

Skam France casted actors that were as close personality wise to their characters as possible, which made it easier for the cast to identify with their characters and made the friendships developping between the characters more believable since it was also developping off screen

They were not allowed to cast underaged actors who would have been closer to the real age of the characters due to the long hours of the shooting conditions

Most of the actors come from theatre and many had no or little previous experience with shooting for a camera before

The cast isn’t allowed to watch the clips before they air.

Most of the clothes they wear in the show are their own.

During rehearsals of the first seasons, Philippine went to the board with everyone’s names on it and wrote something funny next to Zoe’s name and wanted to send it to her but she messed up and published it on her ig stories, leaking the entire cast when it was still supposed to be a secret.

Lula’s first reaction when she got the script and “met” Daphné was “oh no I’m scared. I just want to slap her, she’s insufferable”

Assa almost didn’t audition for two reasons: the casting call didn’t specify they were looking for a woman of color and French casting calls almost always say whether they are specifically looking for a black woman. If it says nothing then they are usually looking for a white person. She thought she had no chance because of that. Second reason, after accepting the casting call, she did some research and found out OG Sana was from the Maghreb and she’s not. But her agent convinced her to go through with it, the only thing the skam france team wouldn’t negotiate was that they wanted a Muslim actress. There was no way they would have casted a non muslim actress/actor for Imane and Sofiane.

Skam France was the first TV show on French TV to have a black muslim woman wearing a hijab as a main character

Paul, Robin and Axel knew each other before shooting, they’d met in Avignon.

Coline was still in her last year of high school when she shot the first two seasons.

Niels is the one who came up with a raccoon as Eliott’s spirit animal

They shoot about 15 minutes of usable content per day which is impressive (it’s usually 2-3 for movies released in theatres, 5-7 for TV programs)

When France TV told David the first two seasons were a success and they were renewing the show, he gave them a list of things he wanted to change so that he’d agree to come back to direct the next seasons, including a different camera, renewing the writers team (they included Niels), storylines, the ig content, etc. The new camera they got was a SONY Venice which allows them to play a lot with the focus/blur ratio and the cold and warm undertones, which made a major shift in the visual quality of seasons 3 and 4 compared to the previous 2.

David named Eliott after his son.

Having the teaser from Eliott’s POV was David’s idea. It’s the first remake to have a clip from the French Even’s POV

The bus stop from season 3 is fake, it doesn’t exist. It wasn’t even shot in Paris itself but in Saint Ouen.

Maxence didn’t watch OG - besides the towels in the bathroom clip - because he wanted to create his own Eliott without being too influenced, and he didn’t watch s1 and 2 of skam france either because he wanted Eliott to discover the characters without knowing their backgrounds.

Maxence wasn’t supposed to audition. He wanted to be done with his acting school before shooting anything but the head of the casting team came to watch a public class at his school and asked him to audition for Eliott at the end. David and Niels knew right away he was the one. Niels watched the audition tapes and was very impressed with another actor but within the first 3 seconds of watching Maxence, he knew it wouldn’t be anyone else. Maxence met Axel after the 3rd call back and they clicked right away. He’d broken his foot two days earlier so he was in crutches. They watched Even’s manic episode and had to improvise a similar scene but had to do with the crutches. They also went for a drink before shooting and they talked for hours, their connection was instantaneous.

When he learned Maxence was cast, Axel went on his instagram and saw the model pictures and thought he was way too hot with the abs and everything and he himself would look like a potato during the nude scenes next to him. So he got a coach and for 3 months he trained and got on a very strict diet. He was disappointed that there were no shots where you could actually see his abs properly in Skam. He had also said months before that he had gotten a coach because before they started shooting seasons 3 and 4, he had met up with Marilyn to get advice on how to carry a season and she had told him to get a coach otherwise he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the pace. So what is the truth?

It leaked that Maxence was casted in July 2018 because someone on a Korean website recognized his shoes in an IG story from when he’d been spotted at the airport months earlier but it was kept mostly under wraps. Then his and Lais’s names leaked too a couple of months later but most people hadn’t seen his face before the trailer.

David asked Axel and Maxence to give up their phones and social media during the couple of months they were shooting to be really focused and not get distracted by the outside world and they mostly did. Axel bought an mp3 to still have music, he wrote “LUCAS ♥” on it with a white out pen. He created a playlist for Lucas, including songs like Run Boy Run and I love you by Woodkid, and To Build a Home by the Cinematic Orchestra.

Maxence’s process to get ready for a shot: he does yoga and dances a lot in the morning. he puts music on and paces a room while picturing himself standing on the edge of a cliff and if at some point he feels like falling and loses his balance, it means he’s got it. He asks that all the scripts he gets be printed on the right side of the page and on the left he takes notes about what the character is feeling through 7 different states: love, hate, fear, power, vulnerability, sex and i hate myself for not remembering the last one. To play a scene properly, you have to conjure up 4 states to create one emotion. He loves that David respects his method and is able to adapt to every member of the cast’s method. He also uses his body as a tool, for example if his character has to feel lonely or unsure, he will curl up into a ball for an hour without moving and then he’ll be in the right mindset because his body is telling him he’s isolated. That’s the method he used for Eliott, he created “lost scenes” that weren’t in the script, moments in between scenes with Lucas, to get more into Eliott’s mindset.

Maxence wrote a letter to Eliott, drew a picture of him, and spent hours adding notes to the script about his personality before even trying to get into his mind.

There was a contest for the drawings in season 3. Maxence participated but didn’t get picked. Jeanne Lelièvre did!

All the social media content for seasons 3 and 4 were shot on the same day in December 2018 which is why you can see heavy winter clothing even when the content was published in May. For season 3, most ideas were Axel’s, and Maxence said no to 90%.

While shooting for seasons 3 and 4, Axel was also on stage every night for theatre

To prepare for his role in s3, Axel watched CMBYN, Moonlight, and The Office

They received more feedbacks from international fans than French ones at first. It was even a private joke between Niels and David, there were no comments in French on Youtube. Then the piano clip happened and David’s phone went crazy with notifications. He was in the editing room with Jérémy and the buzzing from his phone was non stop. They banned phones in the editing room after that.

Skam France owes part of its popularity to how accessible the cast and crew are, either on social media or IRL, with 6 entirely free events organized to get the fans and the cast and crew to meet, watch episodes together and have Q&As during seasons 3 and 4.

Skam France shooting locations have become extremely popular for the fans to hang out at and leave little mementos, to the point that the mayor of Paris has asked the team to pick completely untraceable locations, or make sure they are not in Paris itself for the next seasons

Skam France was the first remake to get renewed for 2 (possibly 4?) original seasons

Alexia and Daphné were supposed to have their own seasons they but couldn’t get the green light from Norway. He got the idea for Arthur’s story quite quickly after but they had to rework the scripts for seasons 5 and 6 a lot. Robin talked to David about his addiction to video games and how it could be a potential theme but in the end David chose deafness instead.

SEASONS 1 AND 2

It was Coline’s idea to make Alexia bi. There was a scene when Alexia mentions an ex boyfriend and she asked David “why wouldn’t it be a girl?” and his only reaction was “Ok. What’s her name?” and that’s how bi!Alexia was born.

It was also Coline’s idea to give Alexia’s colorful hair. She later regretted it because she had to bleach her hair twice to get the blue to stay and it fried her hair.

Assa’s worst memory of shooting s1 and 2 is when the girls have to carry Daphné, she kept dropping her and was afraid of hurting her.

Marilyn and Lula ruined the scene when the girls are having breakfast all together when they are on the countryside because they couldn’t stop laughing over carrots and the crunchy noise it was making. It was the last day of shooting and their nerves were all over the place.

SEASON 3

The first scene in the common room didn’t hit them that much, they didn’t realize the impact it would have because the whole shooting was just David yelling at them to look at each other then stop then do it again then stop etc

Nobody realized how big of an impact the “Moi c’est Eliott” line would have and then when they watched the clip, it was obvious.

The check de gang wasn’t scripted, it was Paul’s idea to make it a running gag. David wasn’t sure about it but after doing it just once, he was sold. Basile tripping over the bench was also Paul’s idea but he didn’t warn anyone he was doing it so Xavier started laughing and the camera was shaking so bad that they couldn’t keep it and had to reshoot the scene. They noticed during the editing process that Robin also tripped at the same time in the background during one take so they had to keep that one.

Lucas playing the piano was Axel’s idea even though he didn’t know how to play properly. He sent a text to David at the end of June with different ideas for songs and David picked the most difficult one. He then practiced anytime he could until they shot the scene in october. It took him two months to learn it completely and then a little more to make it look easy. (Niels later said it was his idea and that Axel was a cheeky little shit). Maxence had never heard Axel play the song before that moment so Eliott’s reaction is genuine. He didn’t think he’d manage to get in the right state of mind because the apartment was too small for the whole team and they were all very cranky, it was 3 am, but the moment he heard the first notes, he forgot all about it and was completely amazed.

The infiltration party: David asked that Basile pushes Daphné a bit, like shoves her out of the way when they have to run, but they hadn’t had the time to rehearse anything. After a couple of takes, Paul pushed Lula a bit too hard and she fell on her knees quite hard. He felt so bad because he never wanted to hurt her and they all had to take a half an hour break because her knees hurt. David after that was like OKAY NO MORE STUNTS EVER.

Axel got mad at the makeup department because the two lines on his face were not on the same place when they shot the outside scene and then once inside. He got so angry he could have cried that they wouldn’t believe him. So during the shooting he looked straight at the camera and wiped them away with the back of his hand to force them to draw the lines properly.

The first kiss scene: they had been shooting for 12 hours. It was raining intermittently all day so the team had to pack up the cameras often and wait it out when it was too much. They ran 4 hours late. They had a fake rain machine but no change of clothes so they could only shoot once. Below the bridge is not easily accessible, it’s a long path from the gate, so they used ropes to get things up and down from the bridge. They only had one shot. They had already shot kissing scenes but David was always telling them it had to be more passionate and kept yelling at them to use more tongue so for that shot they gave it their everything on the first (and only) take they did. 5 minutes later they were shooting the Remember scene.

They shot all the scenes in the colloc on the first week of shooting. Minute by minute was shot right before Samedi 9h17. They had to restart shooting samedi 9h17 four times because something wasn’t working between Axel and Maxence, they were clumsy and stressed. After taking 5 minutes to themselves with David to remind themselves of how pivotal the scene was, Axel and Maxence said they were ready and they shot the opening scene that made the cut.

The Phase de latence clip : Axel and Maxence felt like terrible actors because they had already shot all the big very emotional scenes and this was a bit tamer since Eliott doesn’t show much emotions. They felt that way about all the scenes shot in the school.

The Fête de trop clip: They shot the fight with the guys 8 times but it wasn’t enough for David until Robin slapped Axel on the 9th. After that they shot Chloé yelling at Lucas. Axel was still out of it due to the slap he’d gotten earlier that he hadn’t expected. At 3am, they finished with Lucas injuring his hands. Axel cracked the metacarpus in his hand and only told David two days later.

Leo has talked about the coming out bench scene and said Yann took it a bit too far and was too dramatic, he was like “i don’t know if i can say that… but c’mon… I mean. C’mon… that’s your best friend… who cares if he didn’t tell you right away, he had bigger problems on his mind, right?”He would have done it differently.

The “viens on n’en parle pas” scene was shot in 50 minutes in the middle of the night on the second day of shooting. Marilyn and Axel’s emotions were briming under the surface so it was one of the easiest scene to shoot.

The hardest scene to shoot for David in s3 was the intervention clip. It was the second day of shooting, the 4th clip of the day. Axel’s first take was not good enough and David was scared it would set the tone for the season. He had a stern talk with Axel. Thankfully, they shot a second time and it was the right one, everyone on set was crying and Axel was completely drained.

The scene where they go get the couch from the creepy place is the one they shot last for season 3.

The paint scene: they only had one try. Axel and Maxence hadn’t shot together for a week, David had done it on purpose and they’d missed each other. It was shot on a Friday at the exact time it was supposed to happen IRL. The whole thing lasts 14 minutes long. David took their pants off because they were slipping too much. Xavier almost stopped filming he was like “is he serious? did he just take their pants off??”. They shot a part when one of them slips on the ground and the other follows but that didn’t make the cut. There were 25 people on set, everyone in a suit to protect from the paint, but Axel and Maxence forgot everyone and just got lost in their characters. When David yelled cut, Axel and Maxence didn’t hear him and kept making out. David had to separate them. Then they all were so happy that they yelled their joy but then saw all the people who were behind the camera, and everyone was crying, like they had witnessed something too intimate. They showered for an hour, emptied 2 bottles of soap and even then it wasn’t enough, Axel still had paint running down his neck at a party that evening. The music used on set was Dreamer, the Khlar remix. Maxence was upset it wasn’t the one they ended up using in the clip, it felt like a betrayal because it “wasn’t the song they had made love to”.

Maxence fought with the costume department over the briefs he was wearing in the paint scene, because they had shot the PONI scene first and he could remember which ones he was wearing for the PONI scene and he wanted to wear the same ones. He was sure people would notice.

The first scene Maxence ever shot was the PONI scene.

The boat scene was quite special. It was a big moment for Maxence, he was extremely nervous, so David reduced the team on set as much as he could. Maxence got upset at Axel for being too present during the scene. Being used to a theatre stage, Axel is always a bit over the top, eating his ham with a flourish, stuff like that, but this was supposed to be Eliott’s big scene. Maxence asked for a break and told David that if Axel didn’t tone it down, he’d kill him. That also got resolved quickly.

The Remember Me scene: the priest is Lula’s dad. Lula and Niels both make a cameo in the church. They forgot to warn Axel that a car was coming when he’s running so his reaction is genuine. He was running so fast, the minivan with the camera couldn’t keep up so they shot it twice. They shot Lucas finding Eliott under the bridge just after shooting the first kiss. Maxence only had 4 minutes to get into the right state of mind which was extremely challenging and during that time he had to change his clothes, dry his hair and redo his makeup. Axel wasn’t feeling very well, he was exhausted after having shot 4 clips that day, but David told him he could do it so he ran on the path to the bridge harder than ever (David thought he was going to hurt his sinews) and when he fell to his knees, he was close to passing out, you can actually hear when he says the first “t’es pas tout seul” that he’s about to throw up / can’t breathe properly. They only shot that part once and after it was done David told them they should hug each other because what they had just done with Lucas and Eliott was precious and a moment to remember.

There was supposed to be a scene after the Remember scene but it was cut. Eliott is sleeping, Lucas brings him food and starts reading his book and then Eliott wakes up. They say hi, Eliott is confused about the time it is, it’s already late afternoon. He says he needs to leave, but Lucas tells him no. He keeps saying he has to go, he has to go to his parents. Lucas tells him it’s fine, they’ve been warned of where he is. But he says he’s got to leave anyway. Lucas asks him why he keeps insisting he needs to leave and Eliott tells him he just doesn’t want Lucas to see him like this. Lucas tells him he doesn’t mind. Then he starts teasing him, saying Eliott just wants to leave because he doesn’t want to own up to the fact that he lied to him. Eliott is confused. Lucas reminds him that he’d said there was no way he would ever be able to sleep next to a guy that hot (on the boat) and yet here they are actually taking naps. So Eliott must have lied to Lucas about finding him hot. Eliott says he’s an idiot and Lucas tells him that at least he’s not a liar at that what matters is that he is his idiot. “Congrats, you’re now the owner of an idiot… more or less hot” Eliott tells him he’s won and asks what they should do now. Lucas answers that they should start by saying hi properly and they kiss, and when they pull back they just look at each other whispering “salut”. Axel said he was upset at David for cutting the scene because it was so soft and intimate, he called him when he watched the episode to ask why he cut it, but it would have been too repetitive with the following Lundi 17h21 clip.

Lundi 17h21 is the second clip Maxence shot. Lucas’s “T’es beau quand tu rigoles” wasn’t scripted, Axel changed the script, he was supposed to say something about liking seeing Eliott smile.

The Je t’aime scene: the first shot they did was the most emotional one, it was one of the hardest scenes emotionally for Axel. He was crying so so much, he had tears and snot everywhere, and Maxence was just wiping it away so tenderly that David thought about keeping that shot but the snot was REALLY disgusting so they didn’t keep it. They shot it a few more times, except that then Maxence had to leave. So the shot of Lucas saying Moi aussi is actually to David. Axel said it didn’t feel weird because he does love David so it felt true.

SEASON 4

Assa sat down with the team before they wrote anything for the season and told them her whole life story. It lasted 4 hours and she cried when reading the script because they had included so many things she had told them, it felt like her and Imane were one.

Making Assa dance was Philippine’s idea. David asked her what she thought about when thinking of Assa, something that was really her and Philippine said “Dada, you should see her dance”

Moussa and Assa knew each other before since they had filmed together 5 years prior, a movie in which they already were siblings. They feel like siblings in real life.

The worst clip to shoot was on Lais’s first day of shooting, it was the bus clip. The shooting conditions were terrible, there was too much noise, and the crew was tired from having shot the 3 bus stop clips from season 3 earlier that day. David was convinced there would be nothing to save and they would have to rent another bus but the team worked their magic in post prod and it turned out amazing.

They shot the scene with Imane, Lucas and Eliott in class the day after Halloween. Maxence was at a party the night before and lost track of time. He had to take a taxi straight from the party to the set at 6am and showed up in full zombie costume and makeup.

Charles come back: it had been cloudy and raining all day but the moment the camera was on the girls’ faces, a ray of sunlight appeared and the wind blew in their hair, making it a real dramatic moment. Too good to pass on, it’s the shot they kept.

The fight between Lucas and Eliott that we vaguely hear in the background was just gibberish. Axel and Maxence hadn’t prepared anything and Axel just ended up shouting at Maxence things like YOU LIED TO ME BEFORE ABOUT LUCILLE YOU MIGHT BE DOING IT AGAIN ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE and Maxence NO I WOULD NEVER - BUT YOU DID - NO I WOULDN’T - YES YOU DID - NO and they kept going in circles so David was like “guys…. please, you might want to start screaming about something else or this is gonna sound very repetitive” but in the end we can barely hear anything so it didn’t matter much

When Alex comes to pick up Emma to go to the cinema, Assa had a break down and couldn’t stop laughing, hiding under a blanket and making all the girls laugh too with her. David had to scold them a bit to get them to stop.

Lais also ruined a clip by laughing for 15 minutes straight, it’s the clip at Imane’s house when they talk about the fair. It was the longest 15 minutes of the crew’s life.

The oui oui song during Daphné’s birthday party wasn’t planned, the team just lost control of the cast. Axel started it and everyone followed. The cast are actually terrible extras. They are too dramatic and noticeable in the background so party scenes like Daphné’s birthday were a nightmare to shoot.

Assa and Laïs rehearsed the Unknown dance clip every chance they got between every take, everyone kept tripping on them in the corridors.

The last sequences they filmed were actually the last clips at Imane’s house for the Eïd. Axel isn’t in the last shot because he had to leave for his play. He actually ruined the very last clip of season 4 by shouting his goodbyes to David from across the corner.

SEASON 5

The auditions for season 5 and 6 were held in June. Lucas was spotted through his youtube channel and asked to audition.

Coline learned sign language by herself after an initiation class with the whole team. She started signing in July and has been practicing ever since. Robin took a one week class in September and then kept practicing by himself and with the D/deaf people on set. David and the rest of the team also took an initiation class.

Robin doesn’t like water and was anxious about the scenes in the pool. David got in the water with Xavier, Robin and Winona to reassure him and direct them better. They limited the number of extras around the pool because of that.

The place where Eliott works is where David used to work when he was younger.

Coline wrote a song for the season

They couldn’t leave the mural in the high school so they took it off the wall (it wasn’t actually painted on the wall itself) and cut it into pieces. There are a few pieces framed on the walls of Lucas and Eliott’s flat.

#skam france #skam france bts #gaelle parle

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alternativewinxcontinuity · 3 years

Text

April has begun, a new month, a new start.

To celebrate the First of April, I've decided to embark on a new project. Some might say it's a little Foolish when I have so much else to do, but it must be done:

Fate: the Re-Winxed Saga!

We'll be starting off with a fixing of the reason Bloom ran away from home. I don't know about anyone else, but I always found it jarring how Bloom essentially had two sets of parents played by the same actors.

One pair were abusive a$$hats, on of whom thought their daughter was a freak, the other was basically a doormat with no opinions of their own, meanwhile the other couple were loving and “always knew she was meant for bigger things”.

So I've changed the reason behind Bloom's house burned down, and restored her artistic talents to her. There's nothing wrong with liking repairing old lamps, but we saw it once to point out how much of a “weirdo” she was, and then it was gone.

I've also added in a bit to explain how Farah found her, while maintaining Stella's OG presence in the scene.

I know there's a prequel book out (soon?) now that's supposed to fill in that blank, but I've just gone ahead with it.

Warnings for minor implications of sexual assault that never actually happened.

Here we go:

Fire\Starter

Bloom's sleep was fitful.

She felt hot in her dreams, flushed with embarrassment and rage as Mitzy's obnoxious laugh played on infinite repeat. The condemning looks from her peers, from strangers on the street, plagued her like a thousand daggers.

In the waking world Bloom's body kicked back her sheets and writhed like she was fighting off an attacker.

In her dreams Bloom saw the sweetly deceitful face of Mitzy's cousin.

Bloom was an artist, she'd been drawing since she'd been young. Her art had won some competitions, small and local, but so important to her.

Important enough that her parents had bought her a graphics tablet for her birthday when all the other kids her age were getting bikes. It was the most expensive gift they'd ever gotten her.

She'd used it frequently, making digital art now alongside the more traditional paintings and sketches. She'd gotten good enough to be asked and paid for commissions.

And that's how Mitzy had managed to sneak her cousin in, to set a trap.

Moira had commissioned Bloom to make a 'tasteful nude' in 'that old European style, you know the one?' and Bloom hadn't thought anything of it. She'd let Moira into her home, into the converted solar-turned-art studio she'd been using for almost a full year now and...

Bloom had spent every day since cursing herself for not noticing the similarities. Moira and Mitzy looked so alike when you saw them together, Bloom didn't know how she'd missed it.

Maybe it was because Moira had smiled kindly, hidden her smirk and contempt better than Mitzy ever had.

Bloom had only touched Moira once, a gentle arm on the elbow to steady her while Moira was in her under garments, but the way she'd spun that into lies of assault...

Bloom could see it perfectly in her head, Moira laying casually on the couch of Bloom's studio, skin mostly bare and a sweet smile on her face.

In her dreams it warped into a smirk, lips cracking apart until Mitzy's laugh rolled out of the gaping maw. In her dreams, Bloom set Moira on fire.

Her rage, pure and true becomes an unstoppable flame, so hot it melts the walls, melts her tormentors skin. In the dream Bloom screams her rage and the world is consumed and-

-Bloom wakes, choking. She rolls to the side and tumbles from the sweat soaked mattress to the warm wooden floors of her room. Her gasping breaths drag the scent of smoke and paint into her lungs, but she ignores the remnants of her dream and tries to calm herself.

The scent doesn't fade.

It gets stronger.

Somewhere below her on the ground floor, glasses shatter and Bloom hears a familiar whoof. She'd heard it in her father’s educational videos on fire.

Her studio is on fire.

Her house is on fire!

“MUM! DAD!” Bloom screams as loud as she can, trying to remember what she's supposed to do. She tears her pillow case off her pillow, scrambles to put her laptop, graphics tablets and her three recharge cords into it before pulling her sheet free and wrapping it around herself.

She grabs her phone on the way out.

“MUM! DAD!”

Bloom makes her way to their room down the hall, the smoke in the air thickening.

“FIRE!!”

Her parents meet her at the door, their own sheet wrapped around them both to help filter the smoke, they have a few things as well.

Together they crouch down low and make their way down stairs, Bloom's father, Mike, already on his cell phone calling for the Fire Brigade.

They're almost free and clear when her mother, Vanessa, tries to head for the family office.

Bloom calls “mum, no!” at the same time her dad says “'Nessa stop!”

But Vanessa darts away, just past the office door to grab a single box and out again, away from the spread of the fire.

Bloom feels a flicker of relief for half a second before something in the house explodes, letting out a torrent of flame in her mother's direction.

Bloom screams and flings out her hand as if she could do anything to stop what's about to happen.

For a heartbeat Bloom feels something well up inside her, something dark and powerful, and the wave of fire splits around her mother.

The trio stand, stunned, until Mike comes to his senses, “'Nessa, move!”

And they bolt to the door together, out onto the small lawn in time to see the lights of the fire trucks round the corner.

In the days to come, they will recover the items which remain, few as they are. Bloom's childhood book of fairy stories was somehow untouched by the flames.

Mitzy will spread a new rumour about Bloom as part of her campaign to ruin Bloom's life, saying Bloom started the fire.

The investigation will rule it an accident, suspected faulty wiring in the art studio.

But Bloom knows, with an awful certainty: Mitzy was right for once, Bloom had started the fire somehow. She knows her parents suspect it too, but they won't say anything, not even about how Bloom had made the wave of fire part.

There's an elephant in the room now, it hovers awkwardly about their family, makes every conversation feel like trying to walk through broken glass in the dark without stepping on any.

Bloom tries not to go to sleep. She only makes it a few days before she finds herself constantly drifting off. Her parents watch her with fear, telling her to sleep.

But she can't, don't they understand that? What if she starts another fire?

She leaves their motel room, takes her phone and uses some of the money she earned from her art to by a sleeping bag and some snacks. Searches the internet for a place to stay with no people and as little flammable material as possible.

She finds an old warehouse that will do the trick. She buys a small fire extinguisher on her way there.

Her phone tells her she's slept for two days when she wakes up with a horrific dehydration headache.

She feels a little better for the sleep, she hasn't burned down the world while unconscious. There's a public showering area in a pool several blocks away, she manages to sneak in and get clean.

Begins to feel almost human again.

Bloom falls into a routine, sleeping in the warehouse, showering in the public washrooms, reading everything she can find on what the internet calls 'pyrokinesis'. The scientific side, or the fringe-science side of things feels wrong somehow.

She can't explain it, but something in her knows that's not the path she's looking for.

She tries folklore and myths instead. Feels pulled towards the stories of fae and dragons.

There's an abandoned quarry not far from town, and Bloom manages to make her way there with some candles, matches and her thankfully unused fire extinguisher.

She can't conjure fire, can't put it out, can't even provoke it. She's missing something, she knows, she can feel it.

Bloom comes across some 'majick' on one of the websites she finds looking for answers. A way to call a fae and force them to answer any questions you have. Bloom scoffs but takes a screenshot before backing out to another page.

Several days later she makes the mistake of looking at social media.

She's officially a runaway at this point, and Mitzy has used her absence to establish Bloom's guilt.

“Bloom burned her house down to fake her death to avoid facing charges of assault,” is the going theory.

It makes Bloom mad enough to set her sleeping bag on fire.

The following morning she buys a new one, and some things from the list of 'spell' ingredients. She's making no progress on her own, she's desperate.

Bloom returns to the quarry, she doesn't want the smell of incense in the warehouse, just in case. She fills a small bowl with water and a piece of quartz, waits for the moon to rise over head and does her best to match the google-translate’s reading of the 'some magical European language' the spell requires.

For a moment she sits, feeling like a fool, her eyes closed. Then she feels like she's falling.

Or flying?

There's a wind but it's intangible, a forest but it's colours are vibrant in a way Bloom's never seen, like they're leaking energy.

And then there's a tug, like someone has pulled her up short, and a woman with soft, pale brown hair and kind but curious eyes.

The woman opens her mouth but Bloom jerks back in shock, and startles so hard her leg flies out to knock over the bowl, spilling the water everywhere.

Bloom stays there for several long minutes, panting like she'd run a marathon, but then a real wind blows and her damp jeans go cold against her skin. She packs everything up and runs back to the almost safety of her warehouse.

Bloom is awoken by the sound of the warehouse door opening and closing. She's confused for a moment before the sound of two sets of footsteps has her scrambling upright, and out of her sleeping bag.

It's the woman from Bloom's... spell? Vision?

She smiles at Bloom, and Bloom feels herself relax.

“Hello, I'm Farah Dowling,” she gestures to herself. Behind Farah, a young woman, blonde and roughly to same age and nervousness level as Bloom, clears her throat slightly, so Farah Dowling adds: “And this is Stella,” Stella waves, “we're here to help you, if you'll let us?”

Bloom knows better than to trust strangers, but this woman had been in her vision.

“You can help me?” Bloom asks, her voice sounding far smaller and unused than she was expecting.

“I'd certainly like to try,” Farah says kindly, her hand reaching out to Bloom, letting Bloom make the choice.

Bloom gathers her things and takes Farah Dowling's hand, Farah squeezes it gently, it's comforting. Bloom sobs as she realises this is the first real human contact she's had in... weeks now.

“Come on,” Farah and Stella return to the warehouse door, “Stella, if you could?”

“Yes Miss Dowling,” Stella gives Bloom a quick eyebrow wiggle, like she's about to show off, and places her hand on the door.

'She has nice hands,' Bloom thinks distantly as the large sunburst ring on Stella's finger glows golden, the light spreading out to coat the door and it's frame.

When Stella opens it, the door no longer leads outside the warehouse, but out into a verdant forest. Bloom can smell the leaf litter, there's the smell of moisture, like there's rain about to fall.

Stella steps through into the forest, holding the door open for Farah and Bloom to follow.

“Welcome to Avalon,” Stella says as she sweeps out an arm to indicate the trees around her, “home of Alfea school for Heroics and Fairies.”

“Fairies?” Bloom can feel herself smiling, excitement building. Her parents had always affectionately despaired at her life long obsession with the mythological creatures.

...her parents...

Bloom wavered.

“Can, can I just have a moment to text my parents?” Bloom looks between the two... women? Fairies? She's afraid that any second this will turn out to be a dream, or worse, real and she'll somehow throw away her chance.

“Of course,” Farah says, her voice full of understanding, “take all the time you need.”

“As long as you only need ten minutes,” Stella cuts in, “because that's how much longer I can hold this doorway open.”

Farah gives Stella a fond but exasperated look.

Bloom shakes her head, “I only need two minutes, tops.” She pulls out her phone, spends thirty seconds undoing the call blocker and sends her text before reinstalling the blocker, too scared to hear her parents reply.

What if it was “stay gone”?

“I'm ready,” Bloom says, and Farah ushers her through into Avalon.

[I'm OK. Sorting some things out. I Love You Both.]

Mike and Vanessa almost collapse in relief, their baby girl is alright. They tell the police to stop actively looking for Bloom, but to keep an eye out, and to tell her they miss her if she's seen.

The pray she'll come home on her own.

#fate the winx saga #fate: the winx saga #Fate the rewinxed saga #patching some lore #my idea of an april fools prank is changing the fandom of my blog for a day

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theeeveetamer · 3 years

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Ooh... How about we take a page out of one of your Leokumi oneshots? You know, the one where colleges are super hard to get into for omegas? Felix wanted to get into the same college as Sylvain, and that college was actually relatively inclusive for omegas, not requiring an alpha's permission for them, but still had some discrimination and harassment happening. Sylvain, having seen some of that stuff happen around him, was initially pretty uneasy about Felix going there, which lead to an argument between them. He relented eventually and the application was sent. Unfortunately Daddy Gautier somehow got wind of this and threw his influence around to get it rejected, while making sure only the name "Gautier" is leaked. Felix finds out and is furious, because he assumes it was Sylvain, leading to the breakup. This would both explain Felix's anger and him still wanting to prove something to him, by showing both how competent and hot he is now.

Oooooh now there’s an idea!

I think this works best if there was like, some controlling behavior from Sylvain when they were initially together. I mean nothing too crazy, but he was pretty overprotective of Felix when they dated and they were both young and dumb so he could be kind of an ass about it, and Felix kind of started resenting him for it. So the application thing is totally believable and ended up as the final straw for him.

Their breakup kind of like. Imploded their friend group, too. I think Ingrid would have been pretty firmly on Felix’s side (though it wouldn’t completely end her friendship with Sylvain, it would come damn close), and Dimitri was kind of caught between them (because on one hand he doesn’t believe Sylvain would go that far, and he believes him when he says he didn’t do this, but at the same time Felix’s future still did get fucked up and he thinks it’s valid for him to be mad).

Suddenly they can’t do anything all as a group anymore because Felix can’t stand to be in the same room as Sylvain (which, tbf, totally valid given he thought Sylvain blew up his entire future). Maybe it even prevented him from going to college straight away and he had to take a gap year, just to add into the resentment. Luckily at this point Sylvain is in college and only comes home every so often, so Dimitri and Ingrid don’t have to keep constantly separating them so Felix doesn’t kill Sylvain.

Meanwhile Sylvain... I think he probably took it pretty hard, and his desperation to explain himself and get Felix back just upset Felix even more and drove the wedge further between them. I mean there was probably a week or two where he was calling Felix fifteen times a day and filling up his voice mail with desperate messages (which of course he deleted without even listening to them) before Dimitri had to pull Sylvain aside and tell him to just let it go, whatever happened there’s just no way Felix is going to let him try to fix it.

As soon as Felix is able he changes his number and moves away from home, and tells no one but his family and Dimitri and Ingrid where he’s gone.

I think sometime between their falling out and their reunion Sylvain finds evidence of what his dad did. But by that point it’s been several years and Felix has moved away to god knows where and changed his number (and I don’t think he was ever one for social media so Sylvain couldn’t really track him down). Sylvain might try to talk to Rodrigue about what he found, but Rodrigue is not exactly thrilled with Sylvain and brushes him off.

So faced with the fact that he really can’t fix this, Sylvain drops contact with his parents as soon as they’re done funding his education and eventually picks up a job teaching. Oh Daddy Gautier still tries, of course, and Sylvain might humor his attempts at contact a little, but their relationship is Done.

And oh my god this is getting long but he 100% absolutely never got over Felix. Ever. Those students he fucked? Squint and he can pretend. Never dated, never even attempted to, really. All his “relationships” (if you could call them that) were just hookups. Maybe he had a FWB or two, but absolutely never anything romantic.

When Felix shows up to his class the students that know Professor Sylvain immediately joke that he’s “just his type” (and boy they do not know how right they are about that) and they joke that if he plays his cards right he might end up in Professor Gautier’s bed.

Sylvain, of course, still has the evidence he found off his dad somewhere on a flash drive, so immediately after the first day of class he ignores all of the students coming up to talk to him and runs back to his office to print it all off. Which looks a hell of a lot like he’s running away from him.

Felix is fucking livid, of course. He probably wound up following Sylvain back to his office after class to chew him out, then once that was done he was going to head straight to the registrar to demand a different professor for the course. So he storms in, looking all angry and beautiful (because let’s be real he dressed nice for the first day, too, because he saw Gautier on his schedule and just the shape of the name made him want to look good to stick it to the professor that dared share a last name with that asshole), and Sylvain has to slam the door shut behind him and beg him to just listen for two seconds before tearing him a new asshole.

To be clear though, Felix initially thinks he’s full of shit. Maybe that he even doctored the evidence. It takes awhile for him to come around. He probably talks to Dimitri about it, who rightly points out... why would Sylvain make fake evidence? Up until Felix showed up in his class he never expected to see him again, and he had absolutely no time to make it between class and when Felix confronted him in his office, so why would he have prepared that beforehand?

Also let’s just say Felix joined this class last minute, so while Sylvain had access to a class roster, Felix wasn’t on it until the day of so there’s no way he would have seen his name ahead of time.

#sylvix #sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #professor sylvain au #3h omegaverse #abo #modern au #long #Anonymous

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lorrynha · 4 years

Text

So there was this thread I wanted to write since I saw bnha288 leaks, and I told myself I wouldn't get back to social media until I finished writing it...

Turns out I'm really really slow at writing, and could manage just to get half of it done 💔

Anyway, I thought it'd be better to post half of it than nothing, since the chapter will come out this week anyway 😅

So here's the half I got done, I hope you like it 🤗

I can't talk enough about how much I loved bnha288. Not just because it gave us some badass Ochako moments we've been waiting since this arc began, and the fact that part of it is her rematch with Toga Himiko is absolutely perfect, but also how this very fight can help develop how Uraraka sees hero society and, more importantly, how this will develop her character even more.

But first, let's discuss what might happen on #bnha289:

IMO there are basically three ways this fight is gonna go down:

• Someone is gonna interrupt them;

• Toga wins;

• Ochako wins.

First of all, I do not like the first one. This is the rematch most of us have been waiting for the most (yes, more than a Deku x Bakugou rematch). It's their moment, with no one to be in their way.

About the last two, first thing to say is that I had a feeling that Mr Compress' marble was totally a chekhov's gun as soon as I saw it, and I'm completely sure that the winner is gonna use it to capture the loser.

Now the second one (Toga wins) is... complicated, to say the least.

Someone might say "I wanna Toga to capture Ochako so she'll have another great rescue arc like Bakugou had". Well... yes, but actually no.

You see, the LOV captured Bakugou for a very specific reason. They wanted that very arrogant and explosive boy, with in their eyes very much potential to become a villian, to turn sides an joint them. But that wasn't what happened. In fact, that arc, and his spare against Midoriya that came after that just how much he wants to be a hero, despite of this very flawed personality.

That rescuing arc not only showed us how the other characters felt about that, but most importantly it showed us how Bakugou really is: he will never become a villian. He had always been a power hunger person, always aiming for being stronger, but he wants to do it all while being a hero. He's not willing to change sides just for power.

Now getting back to Ochako, I ask you: if she lost and was captured by Toga, what would this tell us about both of them?

First, it'd establish that Toga is a sadistic sociopath that wants to keep Ochako for herself because she's obsessed with her. And, well, we already know that. And if that happened, I don't believe Toga would tell the LOV she has Ochako literally in her hands, becuase unlike what happened with Bakugou, they have no intention on turning Ochako to their side, and Toga knows that keeping a hero as a hostage just for fun would cause trouble to the League. I'd be a rather meaningless capture, just to traumatise Ochako to hating Toga and the LOV even more.

Second, it'd establish that Ochako is weak and unskilled, wich is not true. Ochako has been a hero in training for almost a year, and Toga is just a regular girl that joined the LOV few months ago. And think about it: On their first fight, even when Toga was pinned down, she was able to destabilize Ochako just buy calling out her crush and telling her they were alike. Now at the very last page of chapter 288 we have the exact opposite thing happening: Toga is pinning Ochako down, and Ochako's is completly ignoring what Toga is saying so she can focus on her mission. Wouldn't it be very disappointing if Ochako lost again, showing us that she didn't actually made that much progress in her physical, mental and emotional skills since their last fight?

Now I think it's gonna be way more interesting if Ochako wins. Because despite defeating the villain, she won't feel happy nor proud about it. Instead, she might feel confused, wondering if the hero's side is in fact the "good side" of this war.

No, this is not a "Ochako becomes a traitor" theory. She still wants to be a hero, she still wants to go to UA, but now something is bothering her.

That's how I picture chapter 289 in my head:

They're gonna fight, and it's gonna be so badass.

Toga will get to hurt Ochako, scratching her face, her arm or something, but then Ochako manages to steal away Toga's knife and pin her down. Toga is totally trapped, there's nothing more she can do, and Ochako is holding that knife, pointing it at her...

Toga: so, heroine... Are you going to kill me? Are you going to kill me, just like you "heros" did with Jin?

Ochako: Jin? Who's Jin?

Toga: See??? You don't even know his name! So he wasn't a real person to you, right? So you could save him too? Why did you have to kill him!?

Ochako is devastated. She knows they are the villains, she knows they are just getting what they deserve. But here is Toga... not just that random villian that had attacked her, but a girl like her, a girl just her age, crying over the death of a dear friend...

Toga: You call us the villains, but you are even worse!

Toga is very good at disguising her self for deceiving others, just like she did with her a very few minutes ago. She needs to be great at acting and lying to succeed. But right now... Ochako knows she's not faking it. She's genuinely sad.

Ochako: No... I'm not gonna kill you...

She drops the knife in the ground beside them and reveals she has a tiny shiny green ball in her hands.

Ochako: But I can't let you go either.

She then uses that marble to trap Toga.

Ochako watches the girl vanishing in front of her eyes in mere seconds.

"Toga-chan... I'm... I'm sorry... I can't save you right now..." Ochako can see a very little version of Toga inside the marble. She hugs it with her hands and cries quietly.

She spends very few seconds crying. She knows she must get back to their mission. Ochako puts it in her uniform and... her pocket is already filled with something.

Oh, right, that little All Might keychain she was gifted on their Christmass party.

She looks at both of them: the keychain in one hand and the marble in the other one. The hero and the villain, the good and the evil...

Ochako is way too confused right now. But she cannot think about all of that right now. She wipes away her tears and run back to Tsuyu. End of the chapter.

I know I'm probably wrong on my headcanons because I'm not a good writer like Horikoshi is, and I know he and his team already wrote a very great chapter, that I'm for sure gonna love and brag about. But, even so, I do really like this headcanon of mine.

What's the core of Ochako's character? She wants to be a hero because she always wanted to help people. She's also happy and lively girl that likes to cheer everyone up, especially their friends.

We can see how she and Iida literally adopted little introverted Izuku and they became a best friends trio. We see she also became Tsuyu best friend, a girl that's also a little reserved.

At first, she wanted to be a hero basically for the job. And yet, not just for the money, but for helping her parents to have a easier life.

She also realised that helping people also includes not getting in anyones way. She thought a relationship would only disturb hers and Deku's focus on being heroes. So she ignored her crush on him, while using these same feelings as a thrust to keeping moving forward.

(and even if my shipper side felt sad when I first watched this, I have to admit this was a great mature decision of her, and the story wouldn't be as good as it is if she had confessed to him that time. It's great that Kohei is giving time for both their relationship and for their character development)

On the Overhaul arc, right after Sir. Night Eye died in her hands, her motivation developed to "I want to help people" to "I want to save people". Now she was 100% sure about what kind of hero she wanted to be: she wanted to be a rescue hero.

When she saved Deku from Black Whip, she asked herself: "of heroes save others, than who's gonna save them when they need it?". This is a very important moment, because while we know who she's talking about right now, she is still subconsciously thinking furtherly: "who's gonna save the people we usually forget to save?"

And now we're watching her making probably one of the most important steps of her development: "Who's gonna save the villains? If we are heroes, why are we killing them, defeating them, when they're just humans like us that need to be saved?"

Ochako is not the traitor and she never will be. She's still mad at Toga and at the villains. She knows that this danm war is their fault. She just wants it to end as soon as possible, and to everyone to be safe and sound. She's sure that the villains side is the worst thing ever, just as bad as it ever could be. But the point is: why isn't the heroes side as good and perfect as it should be?

----------------------------------------------------------

I wanted to make a part two talking about how Ochako will eventually help Izuku realize that the hero society is not as perfect as he think it is, and how this would be great character development for him. Maybe I'll finish writing it someday 😆😌

Thank you so much for reading this tread. I really hope you like it. Please feel free to comment sharing your opinions on what you agree and disagree about all of this, I'm highly open for your reviews on my thoughts 💗

#ochako urakara #toga himiko #bnha #bnha 289 #manga spoilers

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 255: "Hospital”

Previously on BnHA: Aizawa and Present Mic found out their dead best friend Shirakumo was necromanced by All for One and Ujiko and turned into everyone’s favorite villain mom bartender M.D., Kurogiri! Gran Torino and Naomasa were all “hey you guys should talk to him and see if you can restore his memories through the power of friendship” and so they all sat down together to do that. Kurogiri was all “so tell me how is my son Shigaraki Tomura, I love him so much, he is so emo and I must protect him” and Aizawa and Mic were all “THIS GUY HASN’T CHANGED ONE IOTA” and Aizawa started crying and was all “SHIRAKUMO LET’S GET MARRIED AGAIN AND BE HEROES TOGETHER LIKE WE ALWAYS WANTED.” Oh and also we found out Aizawa only fake expelled his previous students and it was just so that he could PREPARE THEM FOR LIFE!! and afterwards they got to go back to U.A. again and live happily ever after. And so basically I’ve lost track of how many hugs Aizawa needs here now but it’s a lot.

Today on BnHA: Shiraguri’s brainwaves start going all wonky and everyone is like “OH SHIT IT’S WORKING” and Aizawa and Mic decide it’s time to shift this drama into overdrive, so they get right up against the glass and start shouting “YOU’RE OUR FRIEND!!” and stuff over and over until IT FINALLY WORKS!! and Kurogiri’s face shifts into Shirakumo’s. Somehow the effect is incredibly sad and moving rather than terrifying as fuck, but unfortunately all Kumo can manage to get out is “hospital” before his mind overloads and he passes out. Fortunately for our heroes, “hospital” is actually an awesome clue which can totally lead them to Tomura and Ujiko’s location if they play their cards right, probably! Or at least Hawks seems really psyched about it, idk. Anyway so the chapter ends with Ujiko going FULL MAD SCIENTIST and wreaking havoc on Tomura’s body in order to -- I’m pretty sure, anyway -- turn him into some kind of fully sentient ultimate high end Noumu. Welllllll shit.

so that sure was a fun little wrinkle last week, huh. the two biggest scanlators deciding that in the spirit of the holidays, they were going to stop translating WSJ series and instead support the official releases out of the goodness of their hearts and definitely not at all because Shueisha was eyeing them threateningly and making little throat-slitting gestures. that was a ride. these are interesting times lol

but at any rate, if this is how it’s going to be for now then I’ll adjust! it is nice to have everyone support the official release, and obviously the image quality is way better, and Caleb’s translations are by and large pretty good. and obviously we’ll get used to reading the chapter on Sundays instead of Fridays (hell, I remember when the SJ leaks still came out on Wednesdays, so it’s not like we haven’t done this same old song and dance before lol). but Friday did happen to be a more convenient day for my schedule personally, so it might take a bit of adjusting for me to figure out what my posting schedule is going to be moving forward

anyways so I’m sorry this recap is so ridiculously late, but here we go at last!

so the Tartarus guard, who by the way is very clearly Seiji’s dad (WHEN ARE THE SHIKETSU KIDS COMING BACK), is tapping frantically at his touch screen even though it’s not doing anything, and he says he’s detecting unusual brainwaves. omg

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK IT MEANS, OBVIOUSLY THEY UNLOCKED THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP, MAN! THEY DID IT

omfg. the guard just says “he’s agitated.” I’m going to need you to have more hype than that my good sir. please

holy shit Nao

attention everyone, HAS ANYONE SEEN NAOMASA’S FUCKING CHILL, BECAUSE HE SEEMS TO HAVE FUCKING MISPLACED THAT SHIT. someone please explain to this man that there is a time and a place to play good cop bad cop and this is not it. “oh, Shirakumo is starting to recover his memories? well then [busts into the prison cell and grabs him by the collar and slams him against the wall] WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR!?”

(ETA: so apparently Nao’s detective instincts are cleverer than mine. he saw that Kumo was potentially going to emerge, but probably not for long, so he gave him the most important question so he could focus on answering that. good job! still not a lot of chill but hey.)

meanwhile Aizawa is all “if what they said is true I’m looking at my friend’s corpse”, while still crying by the way, and yeah, so MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE. this year Santa decided to change it up and just make everyone real sad. happy holidays

lord he’s leaping to his feet and shouting “WHO DID THIS TO YOU”

meanwhile I can’t stop staring at Present Mic with his tongue sticking out. why are you sticking your tongue out. why are anime characters like this. you know, Stain also used to stick his tongue out. Present Mic U.A. traitor confirmed

also!! so many people have beef with Ujiko, though! pretty soon they will have to take a number and get in line

oh no Kumogiri is malfunctioning

Aizawa’s all “ANSWER ME SHIRAKUMO” and OH MY GOD LOOK AT THIS

I HAVE NEVER SEEN AIZAWA SHOUTA SO INTENSE AND I CAN’T TEAR MY EYES AWAY FROM THE SCREEN AHHHHH

so there’s some more of “WE WANTED TO BE HEROES TOGETHER” and “YOUR NAME IS SHIRAKUMO OBORO” and all of that other “SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY” stuff, and you’re damn right I am eating ALL THAT SHIT right up, hell yes. IT’S A TROPE FOR A REASON PEOPLE

oh my god

bwo...hh...?

(ETA: I feel like I should explain that although I have a subscription to Viz, I really hate how their chapter viewer is set up, so I read the chapter on one of the vertical scroll-to-read sites instead. I prefer scroll-to-read for a lot of reasons, but the biggest one is so that I can read the chapter slowly (since I’m writing as I go) without spoiling what’s in the next panel. that being said, this next page is one of the few where Viz obviously got it right, so I’ll be posting the full image.)

SDFLSDLFKHSDLKJGOISDJFOSK

（┐° o ° ┐） ( ｣｡╹o╹｡)｣

feelingsfeelingsfeelingsFEELINGS

(ETA: on a reread I am fascinated by the fact that that bandage on his nose actually seems to be A PERMANENT PART OF HIS FACE APPARENTLY lol what.)

READ THE FUCKING ROOM, DUDE. also look how tiny Gran Torino is. he thought we wouldn’t notice through all of our tears. but we did. would you like me to fetch you a box

ha ha ha so now back to the drama

heh so anyway, the fact that this smoke Shirakumo face still looks like a child is straight up destroying me. how are you guys. how is everyone. feliz navidad

FKSLDJSLK HOLD UP

IS HE TRYING TO SAY “SHOUTA”, I CAN’T, I’M?!?!!!!

ADSLFKJALSKDJW

(ETA: I think you can see Shirakumo’s eye rolling back here as he fights against the brainwashing omg. this chapter’s fucking art, though.)

YESSSSSS you keep on ticking off that checklist of clichés, Horikoshi!! I’m so weak for this shit it’s not even funny. actually that’s not true, this plotline is usually hit or miss with me, but I’ll tell you what though, if there’s one guaranteed way to have me freaking the fuck out rather than sighing and rolling my eyes, it’s to have AIZAWA FUCKING SHOUTA be the one pounding on the wall of glass and screaming at his former lover to fight the layers of conditioning waging war on his mind. ohhhhhh god

lol the brainwave detecting screen is losing its fucking shit also and beeping like crazy. this tension is so thick you could plant a flag in it yeesh

is this Kumo remembering stuff??!

(ETA: thank you to the anon who pointed out I posted the wrong image earlier lol.)

why do shounen characters always recall events from a third-person camera view. curse this ambiguous flashback

AHHHHH

HOSPITALLLL ahh what??? “SHOUTA, HOSPITAL.” oh my god. Shirakumo I commend you for not having your first words after dying and being brought back to life and brainwashed for 15 years and then waking up in a straitjacket in a prison cell be, “FUCK ME OH FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK.” you and I are very different people but I respect that

HOLY SHIT HIS HEAD EXPLODED

so now everyone’s freaking out and we’re zooming in on Kumo’s eye again. by the way this is going to kill me when it’s animated oh god

OH NO THE PANEL WENT BLACK AND IT GOT ALL SILENT

(ETA: hmm I don’t think Caleb Cook knows what “whump” means nowadays. whump is what I wish we had here. instead it’s just lots of hurt but very little comfort. JUST LOTS OF PAIN AND SADNESS.)

Horikoshi please have mercy oh lord. also I see their hands touching, you. they honestly should be gripping each other fucking white-knuckled, this is all very traumatic. I think that if Shouta was holding Mic’s hand while his other hand was pressed against the glass I would probably start sobbing for real

what the fuck

did they knock him back out?? they seem really calm and optimistic about all this lol

oh godddddd

HE’S NOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING SHUT UP. GOD, MIC, WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST GIVE HIM A HUG ALREADY??

so now they’re bidding farewell to Nao and Gran -- and HOLY SHIT --

okay hold up -- I just realized -- Kumo was trying to give them a hint about Ujiko’s location. holy shiiiiit. PLEASE START INVESTIGATING HOSPITALS, NAO AND GRAN. holy shit the Noumu arc is heating uppppp

Aizawa’s asking what’s happening with Kurogiri now, and I feel like he maybe should have asked that immediately after the fact rather than as an afterthought while they were getting ready to leave but okay

Nao says he kind of “short-circuited or something” and yeah that tracks with what we saw. though it sure does make that “THAT’S ALL FOR TODAY FOLKS, GOOD JOB BOYS, YOU GET A GOLD STAR” business just SUPER WEIRD though, but let’s be real, Nao has been swinging and missing with striking the right tone all day today

and now Gran is apologizing to Mic and Aizawa for the exquisite emotional torture he just put them through, but he says something is bound to come from it. WELL YEAH NO SHIT IT HAD GODDAMN BETTER

Aizawa apparently hasn’t run out of sad/tired/haunted expressions yet, if you can believe it

pretty soon everyone is going to be sad, tired, and traumatized! heh. it’s going to be so fucked up hahaha crying smiling emojiiiii

oh hey and we’re cutting to another flashback of AFO doing what he does best, being callously dismissive of human lives!

this guy. right here. is a rat bastard. for real. also Horikoshi sure picked a hell of a chapter to go all out on the art again, jesus. this is probably the first time I’ve looked at AFO’s fucked up face and actually thought “yep, that’s a mutilated human man” rather than “shouldn’t you be out floating in space with your asteroid friends trying to smash the Millennium Falcon?” so anyways yeah this panel is a big NOPE from me, thank you

but on the other hand, when Horikoshi uses those art powers for good, such as carefully penciling in every last individual hair of Aizawa’s perpetual five o’clock shadow, that I don’t mind so much!

yes. yes good

so now they’re vrooming off, and we’re hanging back with Gran and Nao for a minute

YESSSSS GOOD JOB NAO!!

looooool it’s ringing up the head of the HPSC and her phone’s buzzing and she’s giving it this hella dramatic look. like this is some patented Todoroki-level dramatic whooshing right here

that’s just how dramatic this entire arc is going to be, hopefully

WAIT WHAT’S HAPPENING NOW

IS THAT A CODED MESSAGE FOR HIM TO GO CHECK OUT THE HOSPITAL. AND HOW BUSY ARE YOU, HAWKS. ARE YOU THE “I AM IN SOME DEEP, DEEP TROUBLE” KIND OF BUSY, OR JUST THE STAYING-IN-CHARACTER KIND OF BUSY. YOU CASUAL BASTARD, WHO CAN EVEN TELL WITH YOU, I’LL JUST HAVE TO SCROLL DOWN TO SEE

oh hh my go

“LITTLE LATE TO ASK ABOUT THIS STUFF” so he comes from the Bakugou Katsuki school of tutoring, eh

I love that he actually followed through on explaining the PLF’s philosophy to Twice. and Twice is such a good boy. he’s studying so diligently. look, he didn’t ask to join a doomsday cult, it just kind of happened so now he’s just doing his best to figure it all out

and it definitely was a coded message, then. smoooooth, HPSC lady, smooth. so I wonder if the fact that she gave him a specific hospital implies a time jump. because I don’t think she’d have him investigate just any old hospital until they had a better lead and/or a more solid idea of what they were looking for

lol what the fuck

well I sure do not have any idea what this man is talking about

-- HOSDFLKJDLY SHIT WE’RE CUTTING TO UJIKO WE ARE CUTTING TO FUCKING UJIKO RED FUCKING ALERT!!!

HE’S TALKING ABOUT TOMURA I’M NOT CALMMMMMMMM AHHHHHH

FUCCKLKL FUCK THE WHAT HOLY SHIT WHAT DID HE DO

oh my god oh my god oh m

he made Tomura a Noumu. holy fucking shit that’s what he did. of course. so he’ll be able to possess multiple quirks, but because he benefits from Ujiko’s years of high end Noumu research, his sense of self will remain intact

AND DOESN’T THIS PROCESS JUST LOOK EVER SO PLEASANT. jesus christ. he’s not even allowed to lie down, for some reason this procedure can only be done while he’s hovering over the bed Exorcist-style with his mouth locked open in a silent scream (ETA: or is that actually his laughter we’re seeing?? because this panel wasn’t raw enough already I guess??) while random spurts of blood come chucking out all over the place. well that’s just

and Tomura fucking volunteered for this. how many scores of others didn’t?? holy fucking shit Ujiko. it’s not easy to be the most evil man in a chapter where a foil-wrapped potato with eye holes started waxing poetic about all the children he harvested and killed like some kind of bloodthirsty sommelier, but YOU FOUND A WAY. dancing a fucking jig while your so-called masterpiece is being gruesomely tortured in the foreground. man if there’s any justice in the world, we’ll find out in this arc that Ujiko used science to make himself immortal so that once he’s finally captured they can just keep killing him over and over again. I do not like him!!

so that’s it! we really are doing this thing, holy shit. Noumu arc here we come. see you guys next decade har dee har

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years

Text

Remoras Full Chapter XXIX: Mother of the Forest

When I received the call, an open refrigerator door hummed as its light leaked through to the dim space that was my apartment. Its light chill came as a breeze while I placed a bag of grapes within. Automatic, robotic, subconscious movements: standing in place, pivoting from one item to the next. I once heard that every seven years, the human body becomes anew, the old self having died out. There was a faint memory of a self of mine, a few deaths ago, long before the idea of having children ever came to pass, who stood and bagged groceries for minimum wage, and wondering how she would balance work and getting through high school.

In that same moment, I repeated that past life, in a more private setting. Just an hour prior, I had been the customer in line at the checkout counter. The woman behind me who I assumed to be one life older than I, arguing with the cashier over an expired coupon. Her spittle flew over the counter, and the scrawny and zoned out worker covered his face with the back of his arm as a means to protect himself.

I’m better than that. I’m not that kind of person, I often told myself, although if I had any sense of honesty, I often was. Something about the desire to be right, even when you know you don’t have a case, held such a sweet and sour taste; some of the grapes in the fridge had already spoiled from my last grocery visit.

My hand reached for the bottle of cranberry juice, but it soon became out of reach as my phone vibrated right beside it. There was a disconnect – a momentary hesitation – where I stood in place.

Just put that juice away, then answer it, my thoughts buzzed and scraped across my ears. Who was I to deny them? I had no expectations that the call would amount to anything of substance. If I had to guess, it might have been my boss, ready to beg and guilt trip me into working on one of my days off. That was a foolish decision, as I didn’t even notice the name on display on the screen. If I had, I would have picked up right away.

So it buzzed. Twice. On the third buzz, the refrigerator door swung closed and I picked up the phone. That was when I saw the name on the phone and a magnetic pull from below sent all the blood in me to sink down to the tip of my soles. When I tried to speak, I thought I would only manage a gasping breath. But instead, it was a normal, if gasping, voice:

“Demetria? Is that you?”

Not since I last heard from her, several months back, did I ever think I would hear from her again. No, maybe that was unrealistic. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I would hear from her at all: a simple hi every now and then sent through text, happy mother’s day or happy birthday messages. Those were the least (or most) I could hope for. But what it was instead was a belief that she had gone down the same path of the rest of my children and was too busy with her own life to think much of me.

So when she told me the truth, that she had dropped out of college, moved to the arctic over some crush, and worked as a waitress in a restaurant, I was elated. Any shock or sense of betrayal I may have felt didn’t register because there she was, alive, and wanting to come home. One of my children actually wanted to see me! It was enough to make me want to tap my shoes together and do a little jig!

After our conversation, however, I had no choice but to be aware of the environment I was in: empty, so empty. Every little space was covered by every day objects or some assortment of clutter. Paper towel rolls, post-it notes, bowls of fake fruit, tea and coffee cups, a box of makeup from that time I was suckered into buying from a friend’s multilevel-marketing gig. That was just a small sample of things which took up space on the kitchen counters. That didn’t even cover the hallways or the living room.

It was funny, really: when my kids lived with me, I’d get onto them about cleaning the house and made sure they did so. But when it came to me, alone and (in my own mind) free, I pretty much said, “fuck it, this is my space” and let the clutter do its thing.

Well, it sure did its thing, didn’t it? Hopefully Demetria wouldn’t mind.

When it came time to meet her, I felt the pervasive feeling that she wasn’t someone I recognized. It wasn’t the green hair, although that I didn’t expect. Nor was it her coming out, which although the notion never crossed my mind, didn’t really come as a surprise, either. Her loss of interest in her studies? Unfortunate, but not unheard of, especially when one attends university. Her new interest in knives? Concerning, but I could live with it.

No, it must have been something else. Even when she tried to revert to her old self, who I knew her as, I could tell there was something different. What it was, I just couldn’t place, but a thought crept in which brought shivers across my spine:

Maybe she’s not different and maybe I just never knew her very well to begin with.

That thought didn’t know what she was talking about. As far back as I could remember, Demetria was someone withdrawn and preferred her alone time. She valued hers and others’ hygiene and was quick to judge others, but also seemed to have a good heart deep down (at least, I’d like to think so). I always tried to give her her space, as I knew I would have wanted the same if I were her.

But there were little things which made me wonder if I was perhaps living with a different Demetria than the one I raised. One such example was when I sat at the sofa, watching one of my soap operas, Young and the Breastless, when I took a quick glance beside me to see none other than Demetria, pacing about and reading a book. Well...I assumed she was reading, but the book was upside down. She shook her head while she paced, flipping from page to page.

“Nope. I just can’t get into this,” she muttered, and it sounded less disappointed and more like she hadn’t yet given up hope that she would. I leaned forward and saw the title of the book: ‘Banana Fish.’

“What’cha up to?” I asked, and the show no longer took up my attention, instead becoming white noise.

“I’m trying to get back into marine biology, so I figured I’d read a new fish textbook, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get into it,” she explained and peered up from her book.

“Are you sure it’s about fish? I see a couple of guys on the cover,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I’m assuming it’s one of those edutainment-type deals. Y’know, like Pajama Sam. Anyway, they haven’t actually talked about fish yet, but maybe it’s a slowburn textbook.”

Call it mother’s intuition, but something told me that book had nothing to do with actual fish. Props to her for trying to get back into her old interest, but she ought not to force herself.

“You know, you don’t have to get back into marine biology,” I suggested, “maybe pick up a new interest. What about knives?” That was such a weak suggestion, but it was something.

Even with her glasses on, she squinted, although it seemed less like a vision thing and more for effect, as if to say, “are you crazy, mom?!” It was weird to admit, too, but I already missed her green hair and as much as she tried to appear and act like her old self, it only seemed to highlight how much she had changed.

“What am I gonna do? Knive-ology? I don’t think that’s a thing,” she snapped her fingers for added effect.

Her old self would have just said something like, “I don’t want to make a career of that.”

I knew she had returned home due to having such a rough time with someone, but if anything, she had been more expressive. At least, around the house. I still couldn’t get her to go outside. Through every cycle of one’s life, it seemed at the core, some things remained.

Another day, I was watching a different soap opera on my day at work, this show called ‘The Good Doctor’ (yeah, generic name, I know).

“Good doctor! Your patient is having heart complications!” The assistant rushed to the good doctor in a panic. The good doctor sat at his desk with a suede suit and a polka dot tie and looked up, a bushy eyebrow raised.

“What’s the complications?” He asked, before pushing himself out from his seat.

“It’s complicated! Hurry!” The assistant urged the good doctor, who then rushed into the patient’s room. In the room, the patient leaned up from his bed, a shriveled up old man.

“Are you a good doctor?” He asked, a gravelly voice.

“I am the good doctor,” the good doctor replied, rather humbly, too.

“My heart keeps beating,” the patient moaned. “I don’t know why.”

“That’s what hearts do,” the good doctor answered, and a smile spread across the patient’s face.

“Wow, thanks doc. I’m cured!”

My viewing experience was interrupted by a plop as I turned to my right to see Demetria’s face looking back at me while she hung off from the top of the couch upside down.

“What’cha watchin’?” She asked in a tone that indicated that she was bored and didn’t really care.

“The Good Doctor,” I told her as I tried to keep my attention fixed on the show.

“Gee, I sure hope so,” she snickered. “If I was at the hospital, I know I’d want to be seen by the good doctor, not the bad one.”

I nudged her.

“Since when are you such a smart-ass?” I asked.

“You missed a lot of character arcs,” she continued the snark. “I went through several developments and regressions, and now I’m here.”

“I can see that,” I teased right back. Yes, two of us could be sarcastic.

“No, but for real, I’ve always been like this,” her voice turned quiet, contemplative. “I’ve just usually kept it in my head.”

That. That never occurred to me.

“Well, it’s fun,” I remarked. “I’m really glad to have you around.”

Her (glasses-less) eyes widened, then turned to a near-squint.

“You are?” She sounded quite puzzled by such a statement. As if it weren’t obvious to her.

“Of course! You’re my kid!”

“What about your other kids?” She pointed out.

“I love them, too, but they never come visit me. Well, Hestia does sometimes, but that’s still rare. It gets lonely here, you know.”

“What assholes,” she scoffed. I nudged her again.

“Those are your siblings you’re talking about!” I scolded, something I didn’t think I had to do. Oh well, it was a playful scold. “They’re good people, they’re just busy much of the time. Hestia’s an architect and works with various non-profit groups on the side. Hermes has his job as a fitness instructor. Then there’s Log...he’s busy being Log.”

“Sheesh, what’s with all these Greek myth names, anyway?”

I drummed up a storm of laughter, something which wasn’t really funny, but sometimes I just laughed to reminisce.

“Funny story about that…” I caught my breath. “Back when I was your age, I won a contest to go study abroad in Greece.”

“Did it come with a time machine?” She butted in.

“Are you gonna keep snarking or you gonna let me tell you?” I shot back. In response, she slunk down the couch, then sat up in a flurry of movements.

“Fire away, cap’n!” She gave me some goofy salute.

“So while I was at some museums, I met this nice Turkish guy and we hit things off pretty well. We went to a nice cafe and I got to unload my love of myth to him. That’s when he laughed and told me he was half-Greek himself, and he was visiting some family. After I went back to the states, we kept in touch as penpals and sent letters to each other back and forth. You probably don’t need me to tell you the rest.” I stopped myself. If I were to continue, it would have been a much longer story than it needed to be.

“Uh, yeah I do. What’s that got to do with giving us weird names?”

“Well, you know how there’s that tradition in our family to name ourselves after trees. My mom named me Sequoia, and she was Cypress. So when I had my first kid, all the relatives wanted to know what tree-related name I would give them. I gave it some thought and then decided that I wanted to do something different, so chose the name of a goddess I loved, Hestia.”

“Ugh, Hestia,” Demetria groaned, “it’s always ‘Hestia is bestia’ and ‘is there nothing Hestia can’t do?’ It’s grating.”

While I admit the praises seemed rather excessive, I was proud of her, just as much as I was proud of all my children in some way or another.

“Next came Hermes, and at that point, the whole family was up in arms, begging and pleading for just one tree name. So I compromised and said that if I had a third kid, I’d name them something tree-related. That seemed to get them off my back.”

“Thus, lo and behold, Log was born,” Demetria raised her head up and put her hand to her chest, almost singing out the words. Talk about dramatic.

“But then, you were born, just a few years after Log. I really didn’t expect to have another kid, and I figured to balance things out, I’d name you Sycamore. But then I decided: fuck it. You’re Demetria. And the rest was history.”

Yes. I was sure she heard the explanation before, but I suppose it bore repeating. It was just a shame that she never got to meet her father.

“What was he like?” She once asked me.

“He was a kind man. Patient, loved to listen to others. Never had a mean bone in his body. You would have liked him, I’m sure.”

“Would I have?”

“Maybe. I suppose it’s hard to say.”

Yes. Just a few months before Demetria was to come into this world, Beet Root (he took my last name) lost his life in a car accident. It was hard, to say the least. More than hard. But what else could I do? I couldn’t just stop raising my kids. So I continued on, through the grief and confusion. So it may have gone that she was born with a little bit of grief and confusion as well.

At least with the way things were, there was more time we could spend together. More things I could learn about her. There were still things I would have liked to see from her, though: making friends, finding a job, getting outside more. All things she didn’t seem to want anything to do with. I mean, she came out to me, didn’t that mean she wanted a girlfriend? It wouldn’t happen if she didn’t try.

I know, I’ll help her out, I thought in the middle of my shift. While my main job was working front desk at the Himbo Hotel, I’d sometimes work as a part-time taxi driver on the side. It didn’t pay a lot, but it was fun to meet different people, sometimes.

One person that I picked up was a tall and twig-like girl with blue and pink pastel colored denim clothing (jacket and pants) and hot pink hair.

“Are you Macie?” I asked as I rolled down my window.

“I might be,” she replied, then got in through the backdoor.

Once she was in, I let curiosity get the better of me.

“So...I’ve got a daughter,” I mentioned.

“Yeah? You want me to babysit her?” She asked offhand.

“No, no, I was just wondering if you’d like to meet her.”

“Why?”

“Well...she’s gay…” As soon as those words left my mouth, I saw her put the back of her hand over her mouth in the rearview mirror and laugh.

“Okay then, what’s she like?”

“Hmm...well...she likes...knives?” I just realized how hard it was to describe her to someone else.

“No thanks, I’m not into the hardcore type.”

“She’s not hardcore! It’s just an aesthetic thing...I think. She also likes to work out, and she’s got a bachelor’s degree in zoology.”

There. I think I listed enough positive traits.

Macie shrugged.

“All right, I’ll bite. I’ll write down my number. But if it turns out to be one of those weird catfishy things, I’m blocking both of you and leaving a one star review.”

I gulped, but couldn’t help but whisper a triumphant “yes!”

After I dropped her off at her destination, I returned home and raced to Demetria’s room to deliver the good news. I knocked on her door and after a few successive pounds, she opened up. She stood with a small towel over her forehead, a black tank top on, and working up a sweat.

“Hey! Guess what? I got a girl’s number!” I couldn’t wait for a greeting, I just had to tell her.

“Aw, you didn’t even give me time to guess…” She turned her head and looked down, disappointed.

“Aren’t you excited?”

“Oh, yeah, grats.”

“No, not for me! For you!”

“Oh. Not interested,” she turned away.

“Come on, you might like her! At the least, you might make a friend!” I urged her. She should’ve at least tried.

“I don’t wanna make any friends, especially not with someone I know nothing about.”

“It’s not good to shut yourself off in your room!” I pleaded.

“You never had a problem with it before.”

...She had a point. I shouldn’t have minded so much, but I just really wanted to help her out and didn’t know how.

“You’re right. I hope you’ve had a good day,” I softened my voice, then closed her door.

Other than watch TV and eat together, we didn’t really interact much. That was fine, we didn’t have to, but she should’ve at least interacted with someone. What I saw in her wasn’t someone who was in her room all the time, indulging in her study. Instead, I got the notion that she was deliberately avoiding going outside. As if there was something out there that she was afraid of. If that was the case, I didn’t know what.

There was one girl I managed to get her to speak to, though. Granted, it was her sister, but it was something. Especially since I knew how much she didn’t like to spend time around her siblings.

I had a video call set up with Hestia on my laptop.

“Hey mom, how’s things been?” She asked, her bright smile ever-present on her face. She was seated at the dining room in her own apartment, a much more effervescent air surrounded her while her tucked back teal hair took up a large part of the top of the screen.

“I’m good, things have been great, actually. Demetria’s living with me now,” I told her.

“Oh? I remember how freaked out you were a while back ago. It’s good to know she’s okay.”

“I know, right? Apparently she went to the arctic for a while because of a crush.”

Hestia laughed, a sort of high-pitched “ohoho” laugh.

“She always did do her own thing, didn’t she? I regret not being closer with her, but what’s done is done and there’s no room for regrets.”

“You could come visit,” I suggested. And it wasn’t just that I was lonely. “Maybe you two could hang out or something.”

Hestia put her index finger on her chin and hummed.

“I would like to, but you know how busy I can be. I won’t rule it out, though, ‘kay?”

I sighed. That was the best I could hope for, wasn’t it?

“By the way, it turns out she’s gay.”

Again, hum.

“I’m not surprised at all,” she replied, that same kind voice as ever. “Did you hear about Hermes’ new boyfriend?”

I shook my head.

“No, what’s he like?”

“No idea! But he says he has one, and he seems happy, so that’s all that matters, right?”

“Heh, guess so. Say, how’s things with your girlfriend?”

“Good, good. Aphrodite’s been helping me volunteer at an animal rescue on my days off.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Maybe you and Demetria can bond over your love of women,” I suggested. That was met with another hum.

“That’s a decent enough idea, but everyone experiences love differently, so we may be too different to relate to one another.”

Just because it wouldn’t be exactly the same, that didn’t mean the two couldn’t relate, could it? That just didn’t make sense to me. Yet when I could have voiced as much, I didn’t.

“Would you like to talk to her right now? I could go get her,” I instead said.

“Of course, I’d love to say hello to my dear sister!”

“Demetria!” I called for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she made sluggish motions toward the dining room. After rubbing her eyes, she looked my way.

“What?” She groaned.

“Wanna say hi to Hestia?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, then looked at the laptop screen. “’Sup?”

“Why hello, Demetria! You’re looking as cute as ever!” Hestia oozed joy from the swaying of her head.

“Uh, thanks. You’re looking tryhard as ever, yourself,” she replied in a flat, deadpan tone. I nudged her.

“Be nice,” I whispered. She looked up at me in response, a wide-eyed and pathetic expression on her face.

“No puppy dog eyes, either.”

“How have you been, Demetria?” Hestia seemed to wave off the snarky remark, “do you still shut yourself off in your room?”

My face felt like it was about to turn red, but Demetria seemed unfazed.

“I shut myself off in your mom,” she shot right back. As if she was some grade-schooler.

“Ew. We have the same mom.”

Yes. That same mom was listening to the two of them as they spoke.

“Uh...well…” Demetria stammered as she struggled to save face.

I snickered. Now both girls looked at me and in unison asked, “what’s so funny?”

“It’s nice to see you two get along so well,” I remarked.

The two laughed as well at that notion.

“Yes, I agree,” Hestia proclaimed, “it was nice to hear from you, my dear sister. You look well.”

“Yeah, later, spoiled princess,” Demetria shrugged, then walked away. Then, the unexpected happened:

“Butthead!” Hestia yelled back, and stuck her tongue out. Upon realizing what she had done, she put both hands over her mouth. I shook my head.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“I don’t know, that was rather unbecoming of me. Do forgive me,” she spoke all fancy, then gave me puppy dog eyes as well.

“You’re ten years older than her! You’re supposed to set a good example!” I cried out. To that, she raised and index finger and with her eyes closed, gave a triumphant smile.

“Actually, we’re both adults, so if anything, she should know better than to have such an attitude!” She declared.

Once again, I shook my head.

“Talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too, mom! Do give Demetria my sincerest of apologies!”

The video call ended. As much as that (began and) ended in bickering, it was still progress. They spoke to each other. Baby steps. Maybe after that, she would branch out a little more and –

I could only wish.

About a week after that conversation, I got off work and noticed a text on my phone. I opened up the message and I felt my heart caught in a bear trap:

Demetria: Hey, try not to worry too much when you get home, but I won’t be there. I went outside and got a smoothie like you wanted me to. It was good, but it got me thinking how I the whole time I’ve been with you, I’ve felt stuck. Not stuck because of you, but stuck because I haven’t found any interest that I’ve felt passionate about. I don’t know what I want to do and it frightens me. So I’ve decided to go off and try to figure things out. I’ll see if I can stay with Juniper for a little while, maybe a change in environment will help. Love you, and goodbye for now.

I rushed home. I tried texting her back, but it wouldn’t send. I tried calling, only to receive dead air.

Her phone must be off. But why? Is she in danger?

Frantic, unsure of what else to do, I called Juniper.

“Hey, is Demetria with you?” I asked, as Juniper answered right away.

“No? Not unless she’s hiding somewhere. Why?” She seemed genuinely puzzled by my question, meanwhile I was still hyperventilating.

“She left me a message. Said she’d be with you.”

“Huh. I haven’t heard anything like that. But maybe she’s on her way? I dunno.”

“Okay. Just. Let me know if you see her, okay?”

“Sure thing! Hope she’s doing all right!”

“Me too.”

I hung up. Next was Hestia, but not because I thought she’d know Demetria’s whereabouts, but just because I needed someone to vent to. The phone kept ringing, but there was no answer. Then it timed out.

Of course. Because she’s always doing something.

However, just a minute later, Hestia called back.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” She greeted.

“Demetria. She...she…” I had trouble getting it all out.

“Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. She ran off.”

“Oh my…”

“I don’t know what to do. She left a message saying she’d see if she could stay with Juniper.”

“So maybe she’s with Juniper.”

“I called her and she said Demetria’s not there. I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I can tell. When did you last see her?”

“This morning. Right before work.”

“That’s probably why. I’d say it takes more than an afternoon to reach Juniper’s place.”

Right. That thought never occurred to me. But then, where would she stay on her way there? Motels? What if something bad happened there?

“I’m just...I really thought she would stay. I gave her her space. I let her do whatever. But she didn’t want to make friends and she didn’t want to leave the house and –”

“...Sounds like she left the house, though,” Hestia pointed out.

“You’re right. I should be happy. She’ll be fine. She was fine before.”

“Mom.”

“What is it, dear?”

“Chill. She’s an adult. Just let her do her thing. She’s always been an independent person, so let her be. If she wants to come back, just tell her ‘no, I’ve made my choice.’”

I balked.

“I couldn’t do that!”

“I’m not saying to be mean. Look, I know this family’s known for being overly nice, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a pushover. It’s bad enough you’re a worrywart.”

“I just don’t want to be too tough. I remember how Juniper’s mom was and I told myself I wouldn’t be like her.”

“You’re not…” Hestia muttered, then continued, “you’re afraid of letting her go, aren’t you?”

That struck me. Not because of how harsh it was. No, her tone of voice was sympathetic, if anything.

“I just wanted to spend more time with her,” I began to tear up, “She didn’t stay for very long and I thought I could have some company.”

“I understand. It probably gets lonely.”

“It does…”

“It’s not too late for you, either. You can try to make friends, you can go out and have fun. You should take care of yourself, too.”

“You’re right,” my voice turned weepy, but I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. I gotta go, mom. I’m busy petting goats at a petting zoo. Did you know that statistically, one in five goats don’t get pet?”

“One of your volunteer works?” I asked.

“You know it.”

The call ended after that. So once again I was left in an empty house, full of clutter. Days went by, the same routine, and I waited for some update, some word as to where she was. So far, nothing. At a certain point, I considered adopting a ferret. I hadn’t quite decided yet, but it might help.

#remoras full #wriitng #stories #this chapter is on the short side #I admit this chapter is kind of rough in terms of quality #but thats okay #im allowed a not so good chapter every now and then

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thatboomerkid · 4 years

Text

PORTALS

We open weird portals to the Underworld and pull the Damned out for cash [part 1]

Hellcrashers Fiction by Nonbinary Bones

I broke open the factory door with a crowbar and entered a decrepit manufacturing plant. The soot-covered facility went bankrupt years ago and still leaked chemical waste into the “Mighty Missisip’” several decades later.

For a brief moment, the only noises were the icy wind racing over the waterfront and the soft ticking sound of the van’s engine behind me. The side panel of the van slid open.

“Sweet baby Jesus, it’s colder than a witches’ tit in a brass bra out here!” Felix exclaimed.

I nodded my agreement as a mechanized lift lowered my co-worker’s wheelchair to the ground.

Jackie hopped from the passenger seat, her military boots crunching on the wooden timbers of the boardwalk.

Sections of the greasy promenade had rotted away, revealing the polluted harbor below. The rancid waters stank of dead fish and petroleum. A huge rickety crane loomed overhead, its base squatting in the water, rusting its way towards oblivion.

Jackie opened the back of the van, rooted around, then pulled a bulletproof vest on over her tank top. She held another vest out in her grimy hand. I took it with a grateful nod.

Vasquez put The Club on the steering wheel, a sunshield on the dash, and began inspecting his gear. He may have been an OCD prick, but he knew how to plan a job.

New Kid hovered nearby, hands in his pockets.

“Hey Bitchnugget, try doing something useful for a change!” Felix jibed.

We grabbed our camping gear and entered the factory. Light filtered in through broken windows from sodium streetlamps outside. The center of the room was illuminated, but darkness clung to the corners. Conveyor belts and walkways filled the cavernous space like a real-life version of Chutes and Ladders. The air reeked of grease and metal. Rusted machinery spoke of long years of disuse.

Felix accidentally rolled right through a pile of animal droppings and cried out in disgust at getting shit in the tire treads. His shouts echoed in the gloom.

I dropped a duffel to the floor and opened it up, revealing a cache of weapons. We divvied up the contents so each of us had gas masks and guns.

“Alright everyone, huddle up.” I said. Everyone gathered in a semi-circle. “Vasquez, give us the rundown.”

“Today is a standard snatch-and-grab. Our target is named Aurora Laura.” He held up a centerfold spread ripped from an adult magazine. The lewd pose didn’t leave much to the imagination. “Real name Laura Brown. Originally from Omaha.” He squinted at the glossy pages. “Measures 34B, Waist 25, Hips 26. Likes puppies and men who aren’t afraid to show their vulnerable side.”

The New Kid blushed, Jackie snorted, and Felix grinned.

“We have reliable intel that the client’s Dearly Departed is being held in a Domain known as Hotel California. Basically, it’s worse than the worst ‘No-Tell Motel’ you’ve ever imagined; word on the street says each Dweller gets their own room, so we’re searching door to door.” He sighed.

The rest of us groaned out loud. “The floor-plan tends to change on its own, so watch out for that. This isn’t Scooby-Doo: we do not split up under any circumstances.”

“If you see something valuable on the way out, grab it. And I’m talking something portable. Smaller than a breadbox. We don’t want another incident like last time.”

Vasquez looked pointedly at Felix before continuing.

“Garrett, you’ll pop the Cherry for us.”

I nodded in response.

“We go in, acquire the target, and get the fuck out of Dodge. Any questions?” Vasquez looked at each of us with an upraised eyebrow.

New Kid raised his hand like a schoolboy.

“Why am I not surprised?” Felix asked the ceiling.

“What’s a Cherry?”

“It’s a door, Kid. A gateway Down Below Where The Bad Men Go.”

“Oh, right.” he said, blushing.

“Okay then, let’s get to it.” I said.

Past wasp’s nests and sticky linoleum floors I found a door with an “Employees Only” sign on it. The door-frame sagged, dislocated from rotted walls heavy with mildew. The door had warped over time so even though it was unlocked I almost couldn’t get it to budge. The factory door bore battle scars and boot prints from a hard fight with someone who lacked a crowbar. Someone like me. Busting open the door revealed a tiny office containing a desk, chairs, and an empty safe. Nothing worthwhile. I closed the door again.

From my backpack I took a jar of a milky yellow fluid and a barbecue basting brush. When I unscrewed the lid, a nasty rotting smell wafted out. My nose wrinkled in distaste as I began painting the door hinges in slime.

“What the Hell is that?” inquired the New Kid over my shoulder.

“Kid, Crashers never say the H-Word. Never. Not even Topside if we can avoid it. I told you this before we started.” I said.

“Aw, come on! That’s some superstitious bullshit!”

“I mean it.” I glared at him. “Watch your fucking mouth or you’ll jinx the whole Crash. Do not say the H-Word.”

“Sorry. What the heck is that?”

“Ever hear of ‘bukkake’?” I replied.

“No?”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, but why are you doing that?”

“This particular Cherry won’t pop until the hinges have been lubed with actual body secretions. And before you ask: no, spit won’t cut it. Just be grateful the gateway doesn’t need it fresh.”

“Are they all like that?”

“No, some of them only open at midnight or you have to make a cat cry in pain. It depends on the Cherry.”

“Can I ask you a question?” the Kid asked, shuffling his feet uncertainly.

“Another one? Sure, Kid. Ask away.” I replied patiently.

“What makes a Cherry open where it does? I mean, if they can open anywhere how come a gateway doesn’t open up in the middle of Times Square? Or in a daycare?”

I paused for a long moment, considering.

“Rust and despair. Plants need water and sunshine. Mushrooms need shade and shit. Cherries need rust and despair. Simple as that.”

When I finished painting the hinges the door creaked open on its own, this time revealing a rickety wooden staircase down into darkness. Felix cracked a couple chemical glow sticks and shook them. They began glowing with a golden-green light and he tossed them through the doorway.

I grabbed the handles behind Felix’s wheelchair and edged it closer to the Cherry.

“Hey careful with the merchandise, peasant!”

“I ain’t afraid to kick a cripple downstairs.”

Felix stood up on the other side of the portal.

“What the fuck? You’re just faking?” Kid asked in an angry, disbelieving tone with eyes wide as dinner plates.

“No, Cuntpuddle.” Felix said, rolling his eyes. “My legs don’t work Topside, but they work just fine in the Nether.”

“Topside?”

“That’s just a slang term for the world we live in. Topside is the place that the Damned covet beyond all else and the rest of us take pretty much entirely for granted. Don’t know what you got ‘till it’s gone, as they say. It’s the world you see out your window, where we get born, fuck around, and die. It is what it is and for the most part it’s a pretty okay place to be. For the most part.”

“But how can he walk on the other side of the gate?”

“I don’t know Kid, but as soon as you figure it out let me know.” I said.

We turned on our lights and the five of us moved slowly downwards, footsteps echoing in the gloom.

The staircase was built out of salvaged boards, no two of which were the same; different lengths, different colors. There were fourteen steps exactly, but the topmost step was smaller than all the others and bright red. A last minute addition to avoid Unlucky 13 perhaps.

My nerves were on edge as we descended. Every little creaking step telegraphed our movements to anything lurking nearby.

At the bottom of the stairs we found a diseased and barren wasteland. The ground was black and filthy like the Athabasca oil sands of Canada. My throat and lungs ached. Noxious smoke filled the air and made breathing a chore.

I saw a hundred burning fires lighting up the distant mountains. That made me real tense. I’d watched “The Hills Have Eyes” once and the things down here would have put cannibal mutant rapists to shame.

Glancing backwards, I saw the staircase slowly disappearing like it’d never existed.

----------

In front of us, our destination was uncomfortably close. Squatting less than two hundred yards away was a dilapidated motel modeled after every circa-1940s cheaper-than-shit roadside inn on “the wrong side of the tracks” but worse. The walls had been marred by fire. A flickering red neon sign stuttered “VACANCY” into the night. On the porch was a screen door creaking back and forth on its hinges as if begging for relief. Acid rain tinkled weakly against the corrugated tin roof.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Hotel California.” I said.

Inside, we found rusted pipes leaking raw sewage and rotting the stucco. Fungal blooms spread over paper-thin plywood with the texture of rotten leaves splintering at the softest touch. Nearly every window was boarded up over the remnants of razor-sharp glass.

We searched room to room, seeing some of the sickest things you’ve never imagined. Things that can’t be unseen. It took us almost three days to find our target. I think the New Kid must have puked twenty times during that stretch.

Sleep was damn-near impossible for a variety of reasons. The moth-eaten sheets were stained yellow, constantly and consistently damp with every body fluid imaginable.

Thanks to the AC units mounted in the walls, most of the rooms were freezing cold and when I say freezing cold I mean actual people covered in actual ice. Never thought I’d see someone with their own urine frozen in an icicle hanging from their crotch.

Some of the rooms were blazing hot, literally cooking the inhabitants alive.

“Mmm! Smells like down-home cooking!” Felix quipped as he caught a whiff of scorched human flesh.

The ice machine down the hall never actually worked until you were attempting to sleep at which point it spontaneously turned on. It wouldn’t do a damn thing when you wanted it to but it would happily and loudly make the sound of a thousand blenders grinding away at a fistful of pebbles as soon as you laid down.

The first night we were camping in one of the motel rooms when the old TV in the corner suddenly turned itself on, self-tuned those old rabbit ear antennas covered in foil, and scared the ever-loving crap out of us by blasting some repugnant program at maximum volume.

The New Kid unplugged the television from the wall, but it stayed on anyway, causing him to start pounding on it angrily.

“Kid, quit making such a damn racket.” Vasquez said.

“Okay, fine.” the New Kid huffed, throwing himself down on the bed. “So here’s a question.”

“Jerkstain, your entire life is one big fucking question.” Felix quipped.

“Where do those shows come from? Is it something the Hotel made to screw with us?”

“Actually, that is a good question.” I said, busily stripping, cleaning, and reassembling my rifle. “I’m fairly certain those shows are piped in from CRT.”

“CRT?”

“It’s another Domain in the Big Bad. Except instead of a motel imagine a sewer filled with television sets and bad wiring. All the TV channels are fucked-up versions of the worst shows ever made.”

“Yeah Dickcheese, if you survive this job maybe someday you’ll get to go there!” Felix said, holding out a flask.

The Kid ignored the jibe but accepted the flask and took a swig of whiskey.

“For example?”

“Okay, you’ve seen the show ‘Survivor?’ Now imagine it’s more like the Hunger Games except the contestants hunt and eat each other to survive.”

“Jesus…”

“Trust me Kid; you really don’t want to watch anything on that boob tube. Here’s a question for you, Kid. How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Well… I dropped out of high school and started getting into trouble, hanging out with a bad crowd. One night my gang broke into a moving van and the cops spotted us. So I ran and made it into the basement of an abandoned meat packing plant. Found a door leading to a hallway made of baby teeth. The cops following me got eaten by a monster made out of tumors and barbed wire. Bought me time to get back Topside. After that, it was only a matter of time before I found more Crashers. What about you guys?”

“Back in the day I was a long-haul trucker until I went into the wrong goddamn gas station. My partner never really came out again. I found that I’d lost the use of my legs when I dragged myself out of the Pit. I figure if I keep Crashing I’ll find a way to make them work permanently.”

“How about you?”

“Me? I’m in it for the money. Cold, hard cash. This ain’t no charity; I got bills to pay. When I do a job, I expect to get paid.” I said.

“Amen to that, brother.” Jackie said, tilting a bottle in my direction with a nod. “The bigger the paycheck the better.”

“How about you Vasquez? How’d you get into this line of work?”

“I’ve been doing this my whole life, man.” Vasquez replied.

“Say what now?”

“When I was a kid, I was a refugee. My dad brought me to the U.S. from Cuba on a raft made out of old plastic barrels he lashed together. I think I was about nine, maybe ten years old at the time.”

“You’re a Cuban?”

“Cuban-American to you, gringo. I’m a Hialeah boy, born and raised. Before ‘95, if a Cubano set foot on American soil they got the chance to apply for residency status a year later. Lucky for us, we made it ashore before we got picked up on Miami Beach. Dry-Feet, they called us.”

“Dad got a job working graveyard shift at a gas station and I started going to school. I always walked down there by myself to bring Dad a soda and we’d sit and chat for a while. One night I’m going down there right before bedtime and there’s all these police out front with that yellow crime scene tape strung up across the door. The cops say that the robbers put lit matches all over him before they killed him.” He takes a long swig from the bottle.

“So Mom couldn’t afford the rent without Dad, and after that we were sleeping rough. Couch-surfing, church pews, shelters, and sidewalks.”

“My God…” Kid said.

“God? God can’t help us, man. See, Satan led his army to storm the Gates of Heaven and drove God and the angels out. The demons smashed his palace of blue-moon marble into dust and Satan sits on the Throne of Heaven. That’s why our world is so fucked up.”

“So Dad’s spirit came to me. He was bloody and there were these tiny flames burning all over his body. He told me that demons found doors to our world. That’s why the gates keep opening, man.”

“Dad told me that he was joining God’s secret army of angels to take back Heaven. He told me that I needed to learn to fight. To stay strong and smart, so I could count on myself, no one else. To fight back against evil. So I went looking for the gates. You look hard enough and long enough, eventually you find something. And I did.”

“Man… is it worth it?” the Kid asked.

“That’s not the right question.” I said.

“Huh?”

“The real question is do you censor yourself or not?”

“What do you mean?”

“Option A: you say the things you ought to, and shut your mouth on what you actually think. You wear the clothes you’re told to wear, go where they say to go when you’re told to go there, do the things they tell you to do. In return, you get the job, the girl, the two-point-five kids, a white picket fence, and a dog. You get to eat three square meals a day, get laid occasionally, and probably enough money to get you everything you need, some of what you want, and a bed to sleep in with a roof over your head. You’re a slave but you’re comfortable.”

“Option B: you get nothing. You get fuck-all and you’ll like it because you’re free. Go where you want when you want and do what you want to do when you want to do it. Comfort means fuck-all because you’ll probably get arrested, get your head kicked in, or both.”

“So my point is do whatever you want to do because I really don’t give a shit, Kid.”

We sat there silently for the rest of the night. There was really nothing more to say.

It was the second night when the New Kid decided that he actually did want to watch something on TV. Scrambled Porn Sally was pole dancing and the fuzzy static bar was right where you didn’t want it to be.

We found the Kid staring and slack-jawed, his nose touching the flickering television screen. His eyes were watering and blood trickled from one nostril.

I shook him out of it and he mumbled a quiet “thank you.” Every so often I’d catch him stealing glances at the television when he thought I wasn’t looking.

If you were still so exhausted that none of that kept you awake, the phone rang and room service cheerfully provided a complimentary wake-up call just as you were nodding off.

Then there were the cock-roaches. Behind one door we found one of the Lost covered in chittering insects. Carnivorous, angry little bastards about three inches long and sporting chitinous dicks.

The moment it was dark the cock-roaches came scuttling out to bite a hole in your skin, pump their nasty bug-dongs in the bleeding orifice, and lay eggs in your flesh. After a few minutes, the cock-roaches deposited a load of eggs and goop into the poor bastard which then burst open and made a new swarm.

Hiding in every nook and cranny, they skittered into hiding beneath the bed and in the closet when illuminated by a flashlight mounted on the barrel of an AR-15.

The New Kid squashed a couple roaches beneath his boot and the rubber sole began to sizzle. “Damn it! That burns like battery acid!” he shouted.

“Then don’t do that.” I calmly said.

On Day Three we found a Damned that swore up and down he’d seen our target. We’d bribed him with a little baggie of black tar heroin that offered a brief respite from his torment, so we felt confident the intel was solid.

We were moving through the darkened hotel hallways, guns at the ready. The Kid was on point with Vasquez watching his back. Felix and Jackie were in the middle while I was behind the squad.

“This scary-ass motel reminds me of that movie ‘Identity’ with John Cusack. You ever see that shit?”

“Is that the one where Cusack delivers a bag to a creepy motel out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Nah, man. That’s ‘The Bagman’ but it did have a creepy motel.” he said.

“Okay, so is Identity the one where Cusack has to stay in a haunted hotel room?” Jackie asked.

“No goddammit, that’s ‘1408.’ Identity is the one where there’s like a dozen people stranded at this motel in the middle of nowhere and they start getting killed one by one.”

“Okay, first of all: why does John Cusack stay in so many scary motels?”

“Typecasting?”

“And secondly, why are we talking about this while we’re standing in the scariest motel ever?”

“Third question.” I interrupted. “Do you two ever shut up?”

We entered Room 303 and finding it completely thrashed, lingered in the doorway. Mattress slashed, threadbare blankets ripped, and every stick of furniture broken. The stench in the room was overpowering. The source was easy to spot; a cadaver lay rotting amid scattered toys on the floor.

“Rock and roll.” Felix said glibly.

We slowly searched the room.

“Dude check this out!” Felix excitedly waved his latest find: a teddy bear stitched together with human skin, complete with male genitals and real eyeballs too. Just looking at it gave me the creeps.

Giggling, Felix waved the bear inches from the Kid’s face. “Come here and let me give you a big old kiss!”

“Ugh, it’s blinking at me.” Jackie said.

“You’re coming home with me little buddy!” He stuffed the doll into his backpack.

We heard a scraping sound inside a large armoire in the corner with the doors shut. Everyone went silent immediately. Vasquez pointed his gun at it.

“Come on out of there slowly, and you won’t get shot.”

There was no noise or movement of any kind in response. Felix sighed before moving very slowly towards the armoire. He pulled the door open quickly, surprising the woman crouched inside. She was covered head-to-toe with bleeding holes from the cock-roaches.

“Climb out of there slowly, with your hands up.” Vasquez said. The woman seemed to comply with Vasquez’s order, her palms open and weaponless.

The Kid hesitated for just an instant when she sprang at him. The woman grabbed his hand, pointing the gun away from herself and he fired out of reflex, the blast ringing in our ears. He tripped over the corpse on the floor, falling backwards. His head hit the floorboards, dazing him momentarily.

She straddled him, clawing his face and howling like a banshee until Jackie stepped forward and bashed the other woman upside the head with the butt of her rifle. The woman collapsed to the floor, clutching her bleeding skull.

“Oh God, don’t kill me, don’t kill me!” she sobbed as she cowered and covered her head with both arms.

“Quiet!”

The woman shut her mouth instantly, but her body visibly trembled and her eyes welled up. Occasionally, tears ran down her face, leaving twin trails on her filthy cheeks.

“Damn guys, isn’t that a little harsh? I mean, look at her. She’s scared and she’s hurt!” said the New Kid.

“Look Kid, I explained this before but let me make it perfectly clear. She isn’t a person deserving of respect and dignity. She’s a very bad person who did very bad things and ended up in a very bad place.” I said.

“Yeah, but-“

“Everyone, and I mean everyone, in the Down Below deserves to be here. No one wakes up down here for being an atheist, or being gay, or for smoking weed when you were sixteen.” I continued.

“Every single person in the Bad Place committed at least one genuine act of pure, unmitigated evil.” I counted off a list on each finger. “Rape, murder, torture. Shoot, I’ve even been on a job to collect a Wall Street banker who stole people’s retirement accounts then blew it on hookers and cocaine.”

“The point is that they did something that caused pain and suffering to others and whatever they did was enough to earn a ticket Way Down to Hadestown.” I pointed to the woman crouched and shaking on the floor. “That includes Little Miss Sunshine here.”

“You try anything like that again, and I’ll shoot your hands off. You run, I shoot your feet. Am I making myself clear?” Jackie said to our target.

“Yes.”

“Is your name Laura?”

“Yes… how…?”

Felix gripped the woman roughly by her chin and held her face up. Vasquez pulled out the centerfold and looked back and forth from one to the other.

“That’s a positive ID on the primary target.” Vasquez said.

“Great, can we get the Hell out of here now?” said the New Kid.

“Goddammit Fucktard, we told you not to say the H-Word!” Felix yelled angrily. He grabbed the Kid by the straps of his flak jacket and shoved him back against the wall.

The New Kid stammered out an apology, but we all knew the damage had already been done. By all rights, we could have abandoned him right then and there. We could have left him to die, but for the time being, we still needed another pair of hands to finish the job.

“We need to get out. Now. We have definitely overstayed our welcome. Bag her up.” I said.

Felix and Jackie grabbed the target by the arms, holding them together and Vasquez locked handcuffs to her wrists. The Kid shoved a black bag over the target’s head despite her protests.

Prize in hand, we made our way out of the motel room just as fast as we could.

----------

At long last we made it to a stretch of blacktop. Abandoned vehicles filled the road and we cautiously threaded our way around them. Each vehicle was rusted or gutted, and most of them had corpses for passengers. The Damned turned their rotting heads to watch us pass, reaching weakly out to grab us.

Dead weeds stuck up wherever they could find purchase in the cracks. We found that the road had been melted, cooled, and reformed. Several Damned had been submerged in the asphalt, arms outstretched as if surfacing from beneath a pool of black oil. Their cries were muffled but still audible. There were impressions left behind in the asphalt after it had released its prizes to the scavengers who came later.

“Hey, do you hear that?” Jackie asked.

“Hear what?” said the New Kid.

“Sounds like something scraping on metal. Listen. It’s coming from over there.”

Obscured by the tinted windows of a camper shell, something moved in the back of a rusted pickup sitting up on cinder blocks. The New Kid crept slowly up to the back of the truck and dropped the tailgate.

A sleek, obsidian hound with a human head launched itself out of the back of the truck. Its fur was black and glistening, with a body built for speed like a greyhound but with the face of a man. It opened its disjointed jaw and roared like a mountain lion, revealing rows of serrated shark teeth.

Like a heat-seeking missile, it hurtled itself at the Kid with every intention of clamping its jaws around his throat. He brought his arm up to block the hound’s attack and the beast locked its fang-filled maw around his limb.

The creature snarled, shaking the Kid like a rag doll, intent on tearing his arm off in a gout of blood. Claws tore his clothing, and the Kid screamed in pain as triangular teeth began to puncture holes in the flesh of his arm.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a short length of wood. He scrambled for it in the dust with his left hand while the dog savaged his right arm. The New Kid finally managed to wrap his hand around the sturdy board and brought it down on the canine’s square-shaped head in a sweeping arc. There was a loud crack as the board connected, but he could’ve been smacking it with a flyswatter for all the good it did. He struck the sharkdog in its human-shaped face with the board over and over again. The New Kid tried shoving the end into the monster’s mouth to pry it open, but the beast refused to release his bleeding arm.

The moment I saw an opening I shoved my old Ka-Bar knife right into the side of its head. The beast shuddered and died, collapsing in a heap on top of the Kid. He wiped blood and gore off his face and looked up with bleary eyes.

“Told you not to use the H-Word.” I said.

We stopped beside a rusting Quonset hut for a quick break. Jackie dug around in her backpack for a pack of smokes and her lighter. Felix went to take a leak on the other side of the building.

I took a swig from my canteen. The water in the canteen had a sharp taste of iodine from the purification pills I’d dropped in: not unexpected from reclaimed water, but always tough to stomach.

Vasquez sat the package down beside the Quonset and removed her hood long enough for me to give Laura a drink of water. She gulped it down gratefully before we replaced the hood on her head.

I mentally inventoried the remaining water. We all had plastic bottles in our packs plus had the canteen on my hip. I’d read somewhere that the best place to store water was inside ourselves. While I understood that intellectually, I couldn’t help but be daunted at the prospect of making our way across the desert without any water tucked away for later.

Rations were running low too.

We were still many miles away from an exit Topside, and the Bad Place was always full of surprises.

“Hey Garrett. Got a minute?” Vasquez beckoned me over to the side of the building. “You know what I just realized?” he asked.

“That simultaneous revelations aren’t a thing?”

Vasquez leaned in to whisper in my ear. “We are now standing in the Tollway.”

“Route 666?” I asked.

He nodded. “I didn’t recognize it before because there’s no tollbooth and no signs. But one of us is going to pay the toll. You know who I mean.”

I looked over at the New Kid. He was nursing a knot on the back of his head and his face was still all scratched up from Laura’s fingernails. The New Kid removed the sopping bandage wrapped around his arm. The wound where the sharkdog had bit him was black with infected tissue.

Together, we coldly calculated his chances of survival and came up short.

The New Kid was taking a leak on the side of a rusted Quonset hut while Vasquez and I decided his fate.

Rumbling engine noises heralded the arrival of a flat-black sedan on the horizon. A vehicle of generic make and model, the police cruiser had clearly driven through “You-Know-Where” and come out on the other side.

Jackie and Felix grabbed our target and the five of us hustled behind the Quonset, hiding as quick as we could and praying we weren’t seen. The New Kid wasn’t so lucky. The dumb fuck stood there with his dick in his hands and didn’t notice the police cruiser until it was too late.

The battle-scarred vehicle came to a stop, engine idling. The dented drivers’ side door opened and a bipedal male wearing a khaki uniform emerged from the dark interior of the cab. At first glance he may even have passed for human except that every inch of skin was horribly burnt and mutilated. Steel-toed boots crunched on the gravel as he approached.

The Trooper peered at the Kid through his mirrored aviator sunglasses. One hand rested on the nightstick tucked into his belt.

Unsure what to expect, I kept my hand near my pistol just in case.

“You live around here, boy?”

“No sir. Just passing through and found the place like this.”

“I find out you’re lying to me, we’re going to have a problem, boy.”

“Understood.” Every now and then, I caught a glimpse of scarred flesh beneath his shirt.

“Alright then. Just so long as we have an understanding between us.” The Trooper looked around at the horizon almost as if he’d forgotten he was in the middle of a conversation. His gaze settled back on the Kid. “What’s your name, son?”

“My name?”

“Don’t play dumb now.”

Without warning the Trooper pulled a baton from his belt and smashed the Kid with a merciless blow. He doubled over in pain, clutching his belly.

The Trooper loomed over the Kid, lightly smacking the baton in the palm of his palm.

“Looks like you in a heap of trouble here, boy.” the Trooper said with a pronounced Southern accent. He pronounced “here” like “he-ah.”

“You look healthy, don’t have the shakes. No sir, I can tell just from lookin’ at you. You a young man, your back is strong, and you got all your parts in working order, yes sir. You got your whole life in front of you. Seems to me you’ll make a fine slave.”

“You’re gonna dig for us with your bare hands, until your skin is gone, and you dig until your finger bones are worn down to lil’ nubbins. Yessuh, and I’m gonna beat you so bad you’re gonna thank me for the privilege of diggin’.”

The Trooper raised the baton to smash the Kid over the head.

Shots rang out as I unloaded my Glock 9mm into the Trooper’s head, blasting him over and over again. Bullets shattered his aviator shades and tore holes in his khaki uniform before the Trooper fell to the ground. We ran up and Jackie fired her shotgun point-blank into the Trooper’s face before checking on the Kid.

“That seems like overkill, Jackie.” I said with a smirk.

“Overkill is nothing but a word.”

“That stick looks like lacquered hickory but felt like rebar covered in nettles.” The Kid hissed.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here. If one Trooper found us, more are on the way.” I said.

The crew hurried into the Cruiser while the target went into the trunk like a piece of luggage.

“Buckle up.”

“I don’t want to.” the New Kid pouted.

That nasally whine was the last straw. Ice water flowed through my veins. It must have showed on my face because when he saw my expression he recoiled.

“I don’t give a fuck what you want. I ain’t your brother, I ain’t your dad. Lately I ain’t even a nice person. If you don’t do what I say when I say I will knock you the fuck out and make it happen. Now buckle the fuck up.”

He buckled up.

I shifted the police cruiser into drive and stomped on the gas. Nothing happened. “No.” I stomped on it again, shouting louder each time. “No, no, no! I do not believe this horseshit!”

“Is it a Ford?” Felix joked.

Aggravated, my forehead hit the steering wheel. The Troopers were bearing down on us fast. I stomped down on the gas out of frustration and the Cruiser lurched forward. Surprised, I looked up and the vehicle died again, whiplashing our necks. “What the-?”

I closed my eyes, gripped the wheel, and stepped on the gas. The Cruiser moved forward slowly.

“Guys, you’re not going to like this.”

An hour later and my heart was still hammering in my chest and I was white-knuckling the wheel. Vasquez sat right beside me, giving me directions as I drove pedal-to-the-metal with my eyes shut tight.

Bullets pinged off our vehicle and I ducked out of reflex. I could barely hear the gunshots over the roaring engines and police sirens.

“Can’t this piece of shit go any faster?!” Jackie screamed inches from my ear. Jackie turned in her seat, firing a few potshots at the other cruiser.

Felix rooted around in the Army surplus duffel bag and pulled a homemade pipe bomb from the bottom. He lit the fuse with a cheap gas station lighter, let it cook for a moment, then lobbed it out the window at our pursuers.

His throw fell short, and the pipe bomb landed in the middle of the road.

Whether it was Luck or Fate or God deciding to finally give us a break, the second cop car drove over top of the pipe bomb, straddling it with all four tires before it went off.

The police cruiser lifted off the ground, bursting into flame and sending two Troopers screaming into oblivion.

“Keep driving, let’s get as many miles away from here as we can before this thing runs out of gas.” Vasquez instructed.

The sun was setting, and already a cold wind was sweeping down from the hills. Within an hour the temperature would drop by fifty degrees. Sleeping in the exposed cab of the police cruiser would prove to be a very uncomfortable option that night.

And the next night.

And the next.

Four of us left the New Kid hogtied and blubbering in the middle of the road. None of us said a word about it, but we all knew our offering was accepted because we found an exit Topside within an hour.

To this day, I don’t know what dragged him screaming into the desert. But the toll had to be paid.

----------

We delivered the package to a seedy film studio on the outskirts of Las Vegas, Nevada. On the soundstage was a set built out of plywood and made to look like a teen girl’s bedroom: painted pink and full of stuffed dolls. Stage lights hung from metal bars where the room’s ceiling should be, and several cameras were aimed at the bed from different angles.

We were escorted by a couple of hired goons. Low-rent thugs with chrome-played Glocks tucked in the waistband of their jeans.

Vasquez led the way past the stage lights and cameras. Jackie and I flanked the package, while Felix rolled behind with a sawed-off shotgun cradled in his lap.

“You know what the worst job here would be?” Felix asked.

“What?” I sighed.

“Janitor. Can you imagine cleaning this place every night? ‘Excuse me sir, can you lift your feet? I’m trying to mop here’.”

“Jesus, Felix.” I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

“Every night you have to clean it! You can’t imagine the smell!”

“Sure I can.” Jackie retorted. “Like a warm turtle tank probably.”

Felix chortled loudly.

Our customer was a loathsome weasel named Bob Gunkel. He was fat, slowly sliding his way to four hundred pounds. He came out of his office wearing a Hawaiian shirt with huge sweat stains under his pits. He wiped cheese puff dust off his hands, leaving long orange fingerprints on his khakis. The very sight of him made my skin crawl.

“Well? Did you bring her back to me?”

Vasquez pulled the black bag off the package’s head.

“You did it! I have to admit, I had my doubts when I heard you could bring her back but you actually did it!” Gunkel caressed her with his meaty fingers and the expression on his face looked like he was already creaming his pants. She flinched away, but we’d kept the ankle chains and handcuffs on for a reason.

“Laura, sweet Laura, I know I got carried away the last time we were together, but I promise you this time is going to be different!”

Vasquez gripped my arm before I even realized my fist was clenched.

“Sir, not to interrupt, but if you’ll just pay us our fee we’ll be on our way and leave you two alone together.”

“Of course!” He snapped his fingers and one of the goons retrieved a couple of greasy fast food sacks, handing them to Vasquez.

Vasquez checked the paper bags and the wads of cash inside. Jackie and I watched the goon squad to see if their hands moved towards their pistols.

“Are we good?” Gunkel asked.

Everyone held their breath for a moment.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Vasquez said. “Let’s move out, team.”

“You lovebirds have a real nice time now, y’hear!” Felix called on the way out.

Later that night we were sitting in a strip club called Sin Bragas working our way through our second bottle of Don Julio Blanco.

On the asphalt, neon-drenched streets of Topside, we're nothings and nobodies. Between the fast food and taxes, the bad gas station coffee and the past-due child support payments, we’re just pieces of soiled human garbage. In a world of drugs, traffic, radio, politics, smoke and mirrors, we’re little more than dirty, disposable pawns.

Yet amongst the freak show outlaws and leather-clad outcasts, the occult cabals and deranged sickos, the demon summoners, the adrenaline junkies, and conspiracy nuts who make up the heart of the Hades-diving fringe, we’re death-defying, bigger-than-life rock stars.

Every form of fame has its own form of groupies. There are women who sent marriage proposals to Ted Bundy when he was on Death Row, for God’s sake.

Most of us had a scantily-clad woman hanging on an arm or crawling in our lap. Jackie was busy showing off her new tattoo, flexing biceps as big as my head. Her upper arm shined with fresh ink depicting a sexy Devil Girl straddling a black spade with the number “13” in racecar red.

“Well, I gotta go drop the kids off at the pool. Felix said.

Vasquez rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb towards the hallway behind him. Felix rolled his wheelchair to the men’s room. I followed.

When I stepped into the men’s room Felix was pounding on the handicap stall door. “As if my life wasn’t hard enough!” Felix shouted.

I was standing at the urinal when one of the local yokels came in. I recognized him as the hillbilly at the bar telling racist jokes to the stone-faced bartender.

Now, every man knows that there are unspoken rules of men’s room etiquette. When you’re first and there are multiple urinals on the wall, you’re supposed to take the spot furthest from the door. When you come in second, you take the spot furthest from the first guy. What you don’t do, what you never, ever, ever do is stand at the urinal directly adjacent to the first man. That’s a surefire path to an ass-kicking in my book. Of course, this mullet-wearing motherfucker decided to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me.

“You guys are Hellcrashers, aren’t you?” he asked.

I didn’t respond.

“Dude, you guys just go down to Hell, kick Satan in the balls, and rescue the souls of big-tittied single moms. Man, that’s fucking awesome. “What’s it like being a Hellcrasher, bro?”

“Ever hear the one about the guy who wouldn’t shut the fuck up with his dick in his hand?” I curtly replied without looking at him.

“Um, no?”

I reached up and grabbed the hair on the back of his head then slammed him face-first into the tile. His nose broke and he crumpled like a wet paper sack, hitting his chin on the urinal on the way down to the floor. I hosed him down with the contents of my bladder for good measure.

“That’s what it’s like.”

I was washing my hands when I heard Felix shouting.

“Hey! Can somebody toss me some toilet paper? I’m all out of shit tickets over here!”

I left the club without a word.

#hellcrashers #fiction #Not pathfinder

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doedreamss · 4 years

Text

The Cowboy Hat Stays On

Once again, you can all thank @vonschweetz and @robwiethoff for this one because after the latest bte episode with drunk hangman we got on the topic of a smutty fic where hangman shows a girl he has a thing for a porn video on his phone. And as we all knew was gonna happen, I took the bait hook, line, and sinker.

Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Stella (FOC)

Summary: Directly following the events in episode 183 of Being the Elite; Adam is wandering the halls of the convention center, drunk off Fireball, when he comes across MJF talking to the girl that everyone (except Stella, apparently) knows he has it bad for. Hangman confronts MJF and finally gets his moment alone with Stella and takes full advantage.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Alcohol use, gratuitous smut, unprotected sex, public sex

Length: 4,085 words

Available below the cut or HERE on ao3

Slug of fireball down his throat, the warm cinnamon burn pleasant down his throat. The room spun, blurry, and he blinked a few times as if it’d clear the drunken haze that’d settled over his eyes. Dumb, happy smile smeared on his lips, Adam clutched the small shot glass and lifted it to his mouth but found it empty. A puzzled frown. He pulled it away and looked at it, borderline offended, as if the alcohol had done it to him on purpose. Disappearing like that. Like he hadn’t been the one who’d just slugged back the shot and could still taste the cinnamon on his tongue.

The alcohol was clearly against him.

Peering through the clear bottom of the glass, a distorted figure in a cute little blue and pink patterned dress appeared and stole his attention away from the lack of Fireball left in his glass. He lowered his hand, the glass with it, and let himself admire every curve of her body he always had to work so fucking hard to pretend he didn’t want to stare at. Standing still in the middle of the convention hall hallway, the drunk cowboy looked on, mouth gently agape, at who he perceived to be an angel before him.

He hadn’t noticed the company she was with, but she glanced at him and saw him staring, and Adam tried to make himself look as presentable as possible. He swayed once in place, the lumbering tree trunk of a man, and blinked, snapping his head upright. He stilled again, and a look of concern briefly crossed her face. She turned back to her company and laid her hand on their arm as she spoke a soft apology, intending to end their conversation short.

That’s when Adam looked at the man she was talking to. Maxwell Jacob Friedman. His mood soured.

Adam stared at her hand on MJF’s arm. Jealousy laced white hot and angry through his veins. His nostrils flared and his teeth pressed together, making the muscle beneath his close-shaven blonde beard jump. He didn’t like that, he thought suddenly, wanting her hand on his arm with that tender touch. MJF didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be so close to her. Adam glanced down at his forearm as if it burned, staring at the blond-hair dusted skin as if it would tell him why.

He was always too afraid to talk to her like he wanted to. But tonight, after enough shots to make his blood turn to liquor, Adam didn’t care about those kinds of things. He was coming off a winner’s high, the champion who’d pinned Kip Sabien and gotten the win. All on his own. He was a fucking winner.

Winners deserved angels like her.

Adam looked up with determination and confidence in his eyes. His broad shoulders set, and his chin lifted as he walked toward her, quirking a brow at MJF.

“Doesn’t Wardlow need to polish your dick, MJF? Oh! Sorry!” He sucked in a hiss of breath, pretending to be apologetic and ashamed of what he’d just said. “I meant polish your ring. Sorry.” A fake, drunken chuckle. “My bad, man.”

“Oh, you mean the one I beat your ass into the ground for?” MJF shook his head, lips pulling into a sneering grin, “you stupid fucking hick.”

Hangman sucked at the back of his teeth and frowned, that low brow furrowing as his blue eyes glared into MJF’s all-too-smug and absolutely punchable face.

“Oooohhhkaaayy guys,” She started with a low breath, raising her hands between them and drawing their eyes down to her. She smiled at Hangman; hopeful he’d get it through his thick, drunken skull that he needed to calm down.

But Hangman didn’t want to calm down. He wanted to knock Maxwell down to the floor and put a boot in his face, grinding it to the cement until the pompous twat begged him for mercy. His fingers curled into tight fists at his side.

MJF’s eyes flicked downward and saw them. They jumped back up and he smiled wider. He loved getting a reaction out of people, that’s why he did these kinds of things. Hangman wished he couldn’t give him the satisfaction, but controlling his temper was hard when his judgement was so impaired. The only thing keeping him tied back – just barely – was that little angel between them, pleading at him with those pretty hazel eyes.

“Alright big boy, I tell you what,” MJF turned and glanced at the lurking mass that was Wardlow over his shoulder. The idea seemed to finish forming and his smile grew as he nodded confidently and glanced back at a still fuming, drunk Adam. “I’m actually a pretty nice guy and I feel bad for bragging about how hard I kicked your ass in that match.”

Adam inhaled deep, his barrel chest swelling beneath that black cotton v-neck tee. The muscle in his thick forearm jumped as he clenched his fist, the warning growl from a dog that’s on the verge of biting.

“Okay, okay,” MJF coaxed gently, holding out a hand between them as if pleading with Adam to calm down. “Sorry, I get it, that wasn’t cool. I tell you what. This little number that you’ve clearly got a hard-on for is going to kiss the ring you lost to me, and you’re going to watch her do it.”

“What the fuck Maxwell?” She gasped, offended beside them.

MJF started to lift his hand and Adam’s snapped out, lightning-quick, clapping it with a hard slap as he knocked it back down.

“Adam!” A slight scold in her tone. Adam glanced over at her, but where he’d normally feel ashamed, he just felt angry. Angry that MJF was in their space. Angry that he was reminding him over and over of yet another time he lost right when it was most important. Jericho and the AEW World Title. Pac and the Rubber Match. MJF and the 45k Dynamite Diamond Ring. Adam sucked at his teeth and struggled to keep from rolling his shoulders and popping his neck, ready to swing. He wanted to feel it. He wanted that release. He wanted to see what it looked like when he laid his fist into Maxwell’s face.

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of dick comparing contest you cavemen are playing, but that’s over right now. Maxwell, Adam is clearly drunk and you’re taking advantage of that to goad him. Adam, you’re…” She looked over at him, and his hard glare jumped from MJF to her… and melted a little… just before it set hard again, remembering he was mad because she wasn’t letting him deck MJF.

“Just kiss the ring sweetheart and I’ll gladly go.” Maxwell said, smiling back at her.

Adam lifted his fist and it shook with the tension of holding back.

“Maxwell! You’re such a fucking prick, you’ve had your fun with him, now fuck off!” She pushed her hands into Maxwell’s bicep, but the man didn’t sway. He glanced down where she’d touched him as if offended that she had. Wardlow swayed a little closer in, that lumbering shadow. Her hazel eyes jerked nervously up into that stoic face, which only appeared harder. Meaner. He dared to threaten her. Adam’s heart started to race, and he felt excited and sick and a little dizzy. Adrenaline.

MJF shook his head and Wardlow stepped back, accepting the silent communication that his boss decided he didn’t mind that she’d touched him without permission. Maxwell cleared his throat and turned his eyes on her.

“Okay,” he said as if accepting what she’d ask and leave them be without the kiss. He even offered a smile – but polite as he tried to make it, Adam didn’t trust it – and nodded. “You’re right. I’ve had my fun, Adam clearly isn’t in a good place right now, so I should just go and-” his hand shot up and he pressed the diamonds of the ring against her kissable lips.

Not that Adam knew from experience, but sometimes he caught himself looking at them, daydreaming about how sinfully soft they’d be to press against his. Or sometimes at night he caught himself thinking about them slipping over and around his cock, sliding him on the bed of her wet tongue. His blood rushed, flooding the slowly swelling bulge between his legs.

Her offended cry was all but drown out by MJF’s cry of: “Still counts!”

He turned away in a flash, and Adam reached out, fingers just inches from grabbing hold of Maxwell’s suit jacket sleeve. He scurried away, followed by the wall sized human Wardlow, who paused to stare angrily down at Adam, daring him to chase after Maxwell. But she reached out and put her hand on Adam’s arm, and that touch tethered him back and made chasing MJF pointless. He wouldn’t be leaving her side, especially not to spend the night obsessed over catching Maxwell and beating him bloody.

Adam dropped his hand to his side and Wardlow turned, stalking in his bosses’ path. Blinking, Adam glanced back at her as she looked at him. That little dress she was wearing looked cute on her, like it was tailored to perfectly sculpt down every rolling curve of her body. She had the kind of hips that made him hungry to grab in his palms, hard enough to bruise. His semi-hard cock twitched in his dark-denim jeans. They were tight enough it just made his package look even larger.

“You look real pretty tonight Stella.” The rage was leaking out of him the longer they were alone together and her attention was all his.

“Yep,” she said and nodded as if he’d confirmed something for her. “You’re wasted. What did you get into?”

He hesitated for only a second but wilted and caved to her pointed stare. “Fireball.” It’s taste was like those red hots she always ate backstage after she won a match and made her breath smell like cinnamon when he made her laugh. He loved the way she laughed. Open and honest, loud. Sometimes she lost her breath, she laughed so hard. He always tried hard to make her laugh when they talked just to see it.

“Oh boy, come here.” She looped her arm through his and tugged him gently toward the push doors and took them into the slightly cooler night outside. “You need to walk and sober up.”

The hall they’d rented was surrounded by a park, but it was late at night and no one was around. She pulled him toward the path that led to a shaded grove of trees, taking in a deep breath for effect. “You need to get some fresh air, Adam,” she chided him and inhaled deep before exhaling again, as if to show him what she meant.

Adam took a breath. His boots scuffed the path a little as they walked, he stumbled and pulled her off her gait a little by mistake with him. “Whoops, sorry,” he mumbled.

“Here, hold up,” she tugged him to a gentle stop just as they entered the shaded part of the path. Enough light spilled on them they could still see each other’s faces. “We don’t have to walk.” She smiled and seemed to bite back a laugh. It made him want to kiss her harder. “We can just stay right here before you fall on your ass and drag me down with you.”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea, dragging her down on top of him. Adam’s tongue pressed out his mouth and licked his lips. His eyes dropped from her gaze and down, where he wanted to lay a firm, hungry kiss.

“Adam?” She asked and snapped him momentarily back to reality.

“I want to show you a video!” He said suddenly, loudly, as if to distract from the fact that he’d just deliberately stared at her mouth.

“Oh-okay.” She said, confusion slowing her voice before she glanced at the phone that he’d tugged quickly from his jeans pocket.

“Hopefully there isn’t another ad this time,” he said and laughed, but she hadn’t been there when he’d tried to show Private Party that video, and only frowned, confused at him.

Adam’s thick fingers jumped across the screen, pulling up the browser. What loaded was the last thing he’d been looking at: a pornographic video he’d found a couple months ago. The girl involved looked strikingly similar to her, so much so that at first, he’d wondered if she’d done a couple amateur films before he was able to pick apart the striking differences. He’d only wanted to see it looked like her, so his brain helped him imagine it, and helped him imagine he was the man thrusting his cock inside her and making her moan so sweet like that.

The video began to auto play and her eyes were expectantly on his screen, there was no helping it. A strange sort of courage washed over him, and Hangman let it play just a few seconds longer than necessary, so a couple moans would leak out of her hung-open mouth, and Stella might wonder if that’s how he wanted her to be. Then, he pressed the screen and shut the video off.

“Uh… Adam? That girl looked… a lot like me.”

“I’m sorry Stella,” he started and laughed awkwardly, reaching to rub at the back of his neck beneath his fluffy curls tucked into his new black cowboy hat. “I didn’t mean to show you that, I…” He glanced at her and hoped in earnest that she wouldn’t be upset.

“Please,” she said and laughed, her eyes darted across his face and she took a small breath, as if needing to draw on some courage to say what she wanted to say next. “You act like I haven’t gone searching for porn with a man that looks like you.”

Adam’s thick, blond brows jumped up into his forehead and his blue eyes, wide, blinked in slow surprise. He gave his head a small shake as if to reset it and stared at her.

“Oh yeah?” The smile across his mouth was a confident one, the sort he wore when he was on a hot streak and felt the crowd reverberating around him, chanting his chants and on their feet, cheering for them. To think Stella tried to watch porn that looked like him, the fact that meant she was into him, and they were alone, no one around them to stop him from finally getting to kiss those lips… Adam felt it was the same type of thrill as winning the crowd.

He reached out and gently caught her wrist, playfully pulling her body closer to his.

“Adam!” She laughed but didn’t have any offense in her tone or try to pull her arm away. She drifted closer to him, if anything, so he tilted his head down and stared down his barrel chest at her looking up at him. Her free hand had come up to rest on his chest, and the skin tingled beneath his shirt to feel even a whisper of her touch.

He dipped lower but didn’t let their lips touch. Inches apart. “How many times did you imagine it was me fucking you when your fingers were between your legs, hm?” His voice was low, from the depth of his chest, and growled just gently with the ravished need hot in his blood.

She gasped and the prettiest pink painted her cheeks like blush. God, she was cute.

He tugged her in hard, making her stumble and catch her body against his. One arm wrapped around the small of her back and pressed her there. His other hand caught her chin and kept her face turned up toward his as he lowered and crashed their mouths together. He was greedy. Demanding. The arm around her back let the hand drop so he could squeeze and grab hard into the fat of her ass. Her little surprised yelp melted into a pleasurable moan on his tongue as he ran it along hers and turned his head to press and kiss her even deeper, nearly pushing their teeth together because he needed her so badly. All those times he’d daydreamed about finally kissing her and reality was so, so much better.

Adam crowded in, bullying her body to step back further into the cloak beneath the branches of the tree until they walked through the curtain of a willow tree’s branches. Tucked back against the trunk they’d be perfectly hidden. No one would be able to see them. Hear them, maybe, but he’d enjoy watching her squirm and hear those soft little whispered, pleading cries squeaking past her firmly pressed together lips, unable to keep herself from doing it.

They broke apart and gasped for air, but a wide palm – his – on her shoulder coaxed her down to the ground and he followed, maneuvering his body smooth over hers, pushing a knee against the inside of hers and coaxing her legs to fall apart and let his hips between them. That dress she was wearing was all too easy to push up, to let his scrambling, reaching fingers find that sweet, tiny little nub of her clit to play with. She squirmed and inhaled sharp, heels kicking into the ground.

“Adam!” She hissed, and he felt how wet she already was when he slipped two fingers in – just barely to pull her wet up and pet her harder. “We’re out in the – fuckmmmn – open!”

“I can’t wait Stella,” he confessed and rubbed in tight, hard circles, letting her suffer with pleasure beneath him. Suffer like he had, watching her and wanting her so badly. Reminding her this was something she wanted to, since she’d confessed to looking up porn of men who looked like him. “I gotta have you right here,” he breathed hot against her neck, bending in to kiss wherever the skin was exposed, sucking and pinching it gently between his teeth.

“Okay,” she caved, and pulled her knees back so she could open her legs wider for him.

“God, Stella,” he moaned in a tight breath, fingers stilling on her pussy. He pulled his hand away and fumbled hurriedly with his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down the curve of his ass and the thick trunks of his thighs to free his hard, already leaking cock. It left a trail of precum against the inside of her thigh as he shuffled forward and gripped it hard, guiding the head against her slit and pushing down until his hips could press forward and get himself an inch inside her.

He moaned low over her open mouth as she whined underneath him, sinking inch by inch, stretching her perfect, warm muscles around him. They stayed still for a minute with him buried inside her, adjusting to the feeling of it without being overwhelmed by everything it meant. Then, Adam pulled back and pushed forward, starting a hard, greedy pace.

It didn’t even feel better to rip it up inside her, but there was something exciting about digging his fingers into the fat over her thighs and using it to slam her down onto his hard, throbbing cock. Having her the way that told her he’d been fucking starved of this. Showing her how fucking crazy she drove him. He liked her so lost by his passion she was robbed of air and not even able to get a moan out, instead squirming under him, panting, breasts heaving with each breath, curling her fingers and toes into the grass and fallen leaves he was fucking her on.

Adam grunted and thrust, feeling the heat of the burn in his muscles and pushing harder. Further. Thirsty for every drop he could guzzle from this experience. This was his new alcohol. Fuck Fireball. Fuck the AEW world title. Fuck the 45k Dynamite Diamond Ring. Fuck Pac. He only needed Stella. She needed to understand that.

“Stella,” his groan bled into her ear as he pressed his bearded cheek against hers and spilled hot breaths against her skin. His sac was already sucked up to the base of his cock, ready to empty inside her, but he wanted to hold off. He wanted her to lose herself too, be unable to keep from crying his name and come on his cock. If ever AEW came back to this town and preformed in this convention center, Adam wanted to bring her right back to this spot and fuck her with the same ferocity that he did this time. He wanted her to know his passion wasn’t ever going to fade for her. He wanted her to know she was perfect. He hated when she made those self-deprecating jokes about herself. It hurt him, because he hated that she’d been brought up in a world that taught that about herself.

Why didn’t the world teach her about that laugh he loved? Or how sexy her smile was, the way it dimpled up into her rosy-round, quintessentially cute cheeks? How entrancing her mouth was, and how he felt like he’d be dizzy, even sober, if he stared at it too long.

He wanted to. He needed her to know the angel she was to him. That she could be his only saving grace… and he was afraid he was nearing a place he was going to need one.

“Oh-fuck-,” she was half whispering, half moaning beneath him. Her cunt squeezed him tighter. Tighter. Adam’s eyes rolled back, and he begged his body to hold off just a second longer. She curled into his chest, burying her face into his shirt. “Adam!” She cried against him, fingers curling into the material and tugging it desperately hard before she jerked and trembled around him, muscles of her cunt milking his cock shoved damn near against her cervix inside her.

A long, boldly loud moan from his mouth could have been heard easily by anyone on the path. His body bucked against her, squeezed himself an inch further in her, straining her as she came, and then jerked. He shook as he came, and that moan didn’t stop until the last push of semen slipped from his cock inside her.

“Fuck,” he exhaled weakly and all but collapsed on her. His body heaved with great, desperate breaths. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered and pressed a palm against the ground beside her to lift his weight off her body so she could breathe.

“Adam?” She said after a little pause of drawn out silence.

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring.” She laughed softly, a little bit of blush in her cheeks again. The fact that she could blush while he was exhausted over her, cock still twitching and buried in her, drove him mad. He wished he wasn’t so tired. He wished he could start fucking her all over again. And again. And again. And Again. He wanted to fuck her until she was delirious with the gratification only he could grant her.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead before leaning back. “I just wanted to make sure I memorized every bit of this view.”

“Oh my God,” she said as if exasperated by him, but he saw how her smile was shy and sweet.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, drawing his attention from her grin back to her hazel eyes, which were on him. They reached up. Her grin spread wider. “The cowboy hat stayed on.”

“Huh?” He lifted a hand and touched it, then laughed. “Hell yeah it did, angel,” he said, playfully cocky, “any good cowboy knows you keep your damn hat on during the ride, no matter how hard the filly bucks.” He gently removed himself from her but didn’t yet start getting up. He wasn’t ready to leave this perfect little moment. He just wanted a few more minutes.

She laughed that full, open laugh, forgetting to care that they were out in the open and could draw attention by anyone lingering nearby. He laughed at her scared expression when she realized it, which made her glare at him, which made him laugh harder.

“Stop!” She tried but couldn’t fight the giggles away herself and lost herself to them, especially when he reached down and playfully tickled her sides. She laughed harder, gasping and kicking under him.

Their laughter joined and trickled gently from their hiding place, the secret lovers tucked away beneath the willow.

#hangman page #adam page #hangman adam page #aew #wrestling fanfiction #fanfiction #aew fanfiction #hangman page fanfiction #phew!#hapedit

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buddaimond · 5 years

Photo

Rob Quotes (in bold) extracted from Variety. Photography by Matthew Brookes for Variety

About being Batman

“When that thing leaked, I was f—ing furious...Everyone was so upset. Everyone was panicking from my team. I sort of thought that had blown up the whole thing.”

“I was sitting next to Christopher McQuarrie...I’d never met him before. Oh, God! He’d seen me Googling myself for the past hour!” Pattinson tried to explain to the director behind the latest “Mission: Impossible” films what had happened. “No worries,” McQuarrie said, nodding. “I’d probably be doing the same thing.”

“Big movies, generally the parts aren’t as interesting — at least the stuff that was coming my way,...I guess there was some fear...I think I probably would have been a little bit nervous to have gone straight into it immediately afterwards,”

“When I was a kid, it was the only outfit that I had,” “If I actually said it in an interview (where I worn it), I would definitely have a lot of abuse afterwards,” he says with an outburst of nervous laughter. “If I successfully play the character, I can say it at the end.”

“To be honest, it was less vitriolic (casting response) than I was expecting,” he says. And he’s not deterred by the doubters: “It’s much more fun when you’re an underdog. There’s no expectation of you.”

Pattinson reveals he had an informational meeting with Marvel around the time of “Guardians of the Galaxy,” but nothing came of it. “I don’t know what I would really be chasing,” Pattinson says. “The idea of trying that transition after ‘Twilight,’ I never saw a road in that direction.” Batman was different because he was the only comic book character Pattinson always loved. “It’s actually an interesting part,” he says. “I think it’s because he doesn’t have any superpowers.”

“I’d had Batman in my mind for a while,” Pattinson says. “It’s such an absurd thing to say. I sort of had an idea to do it, and I’d been prodding Matt. He didn’t accept any prods. I kept asking to meet him.”

When Reeves finally finished a script, he relented and agreed to a meeting in Los Angeles. “And then I had to kind of try to imagine what he’d written, and I hadn’t even read the script,” Pattinson says. “I’d come with this pad full of notes.” As discussions continued, Pattinson arrived in Cannes in May, and all hell broke loose in the press. “It was terrifying,” he says. “I was like, ‘Oh f—! Does that screw me because they are so intent on secrecy?’” He found himself attending the “Lighthouse” premiere in the middle of reading the script pages that he’d just been sent. “I’m literally in Cannes in my hotel room [rehearsing],” Pattinson says. “The whole thing was a lot.”

After “The Lighthouse” screened to a rapturous standing ovation, Pattinson promptly flew back to L.A. to try on the Batsuit for the final phase of the high-stakes audition. “It’s maybe the craziest thing I’ve ever done in terms of movie stuff,” Pattinson says.

“I put it on. I remember saying to Matt, ‘It does feel quite transformative!’ He was like, ‘I would hope it does! You’re literally in the Batsuit.’” Pattinson describes what the moment was like: “You do feel very powerful immediately. And it’s pretty astonishing, something that is incredibly difficult to get into, so the ritual of getting into it is pretty humiliating. You’ve got five people trying to shove you into something. Once you’ve got it on, it’s like, ‘Yeah, I feel strong, I feel tough, even though I had to have someone squeezing my butt cheeks into the legs.’”

Although he had a clear take on how he’d play Batman, he had to adjust his movements to his new latex body. “You’re trying to think of the way to balance, how to bring something new to it and not want to scare people off,” Pattinson says. “And work in the confines of the costume.”

About himself and the movie industry

He’s noticed how much the entertainment industry has transformed since the first “Twilight” hit screens a decade ago. “It felt like the mid-budget movie completely disappeared, but then it kind of came back with Netflix and the streaming services,” he says, adding that he wishes Netflix offered a better way to navigate all its titles. “Hardly anyone sees independent movies at the cinema anyway. It would be amazing if people did.”

“I think I’d come back and my house would have flown off,” he says. “I would have absolutely nothing. I’m constantly living in terror.” Of what? He searches for an answer. “If you experience a loss of momentum, you don’t want that to happen again,” he says. “And I really enjoy working. There’s no part of me that can go off and disappear.”

Besides, he’s come to appreciate the camaraderie of the movie-making business. “There’s something about people who work in the film industry — they very much wear their heart and dreams on their sleeve,” Pattinson says. “There’s so much desire falling out of them. I think people in other jobs, their dreams aren’t valued as highly. Also, there’s nowhere to put them.” He says that if he’s in an Uber and a driver starts to pitch him a movie idea, he doesn’t shudder like other actors would. “I’m so, so into it,” Pattinson says. “I don’t want to be in L.A. to talk about f—ing restaurant reservations. I want to be in L.A. because I love movies.”

At least he still does. Pattinson says he can sneak into a multiplex, and nobody will bother him. He tried to do that the other day for Quentin Tarantino’s “Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood,” but all the shows were sold out. “It’s literally impossible to get a ticket anywhere in London,” Pattinson says with a sigh. Couldn’t he have called in a favor? “I used to have a tiny bit of power. And the power is completely gone. I can’t do anything anymore. I actually just called my publicist: ‘Can I get some free stuff? Just anything!’” he says in a mock-pleading voice. “‘I just want a package.’”

About “The Lighthouse.”

“I remember doing it thinking I don’t know how I’m going to promote it,” Pattinson says. “Every single scene is just sprinting up to a cliff.”

To settle into the character, Pattinson grew a mustache, which he’d been trying to persuade directors to let him do for other parts. He’s not offended when a reporter asks if it was a prosthetic. “It’s actually real,” he says. “I thought it looked a bit fake as well.”

Dafoe says that Pattinson will sometimes use humor to disarm others. “He’s wildly self-effacing,” Dafoe says. “If you ever talk to him about performing, he acts like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. That’s a little bit of a device to allow him more freedom. And I might add that Rob really wants to jump into things, sometimes with his eyes closed.”

On “The Lighthouse,” he had trouble seeing anything due to the stylized cinematography. “We realized, because of the combination of shooting on black-and-white negative and the 1920s lenses, you need so much light just to get anything,” Pattinson says. “We were doing one scene which was talking to each other over a table. The light is so bright, you couldn’t see the other actor. OK, this is an unexpected turn of events.” Since his character is inebriated for most of the film, Pattinson had to double down on throwing his equilibrium off-balance. But he didn’t attempt a Method approach like on 2011’s “Water for Elephants,” where he actually got plastered. “All you’re doing is trying to stay sober afterwards and hoping that no one will find out you’re drunk for a drunk scene,” he says.

Pattinson relishes all the peculiarities of “The Lighthouse.” He reveals that the crew had to move a sex scene from the frigid waters of the ocean to the shore. “We were just sitting there convulsively shivering,” he says. “It’s not very sexy at all.” And he’s eager to discuss the moment when his character pleasures himself while thinking about a figurine of a mermaid that he’s just found. “I keep masturbating,” Pattinson says of a theme that runs through his recent work. “In the last three or four movies, I’ve got a masturbation scene. I did it in ‘High Life.’ I did it in ‘Damsel.’ And ‘The Devil All the Time.’ I only realized when I did it the fourth time. But when I saw the clay figure of the mermaid, if you’re getting turned on by that, you’re in a very strange place in your life.”

About Christopher Nolan movie

Nolan wanted to meet him. “I couldn’t believe it,” Pattinson says. “He’s one of those people who seem quite out of reach.”

Five days later, he officially became the Dark Knight. “I was absolutely relieved when Matt called,” says Pattinson, who got the role over actor Nicholas Hoult. In fact, Pattinson received the career-changing news on his first day on the set of Nolan’s film. “It’s so bizarre,” he says. “I was like, ‘What a coincidence this is happening. It’s absolutely crazy.” A surprise benefit was that he was able to pepper Nolan, who made the “Dark Knight” trilogy, with questions. “I was talking about things to do with the Batsuit,” Pattinson recalls. “How to get more movements in it.”

Pattinson won’t say whether he’s committed to additional “Batman” movies. “I don’t know anything,” he says. “I’ve got an idea how to do about four scenes, and then I’m working on the rest gradually.” At one point in our conversation, he offers a mundane comment about Joaquin Phoenix, who stars in “Joker” (a movie he hasn’t seen yet), before asking to retract it. “Oh s—,” he says, adding that he’s not accustomed to thinking about spoilers. “I definitely should not say that. I’m so used to pretty art-house movies, where you can watch the movie three times and still not know what it’s about.”

It’s likely that playing Batman will invite the paparazzi back into his life, but he’s not concerned. He says that Instagram has taken the pressure off movie stars, because there’s so much free photo content of celebrities (and wannabe celebrities) on the web. “There’s no money in it for people to follow you around,” Pattinson says. “There are just so many photos of me you can get in a black baseball cap getting a diet peach Snapple. Or on Friday night, getting a Kit Kat.”

Like Bruce Wayne, Pattinson has taken shelter in his own Batcave. “I made it impossible for people to follow me,” he says. “I’d be completely hermetic. It wouldn’t be worth it to wait outside my house, because I wouldn’t come out.”

#Robert Pattinson #Batman #The Lighthouse #Variety #Christopher Nolan #Tenet

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