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badkitty3000 · 4 months

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Lewd Public Acts: Five x OC One Shot

Getting busy in a public space with people around? The idea of someone witnessing everything becomes a turn on for Five's wife, and he is definitely up for the challenge. After all, he can never deny her anything. And, let's face it; there might be something in it for him, too.

Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Dirty talk, Fingering, Blow jobs

Words: 7,412

Here is a smutty one shot I wrote featuring my original character, an aged-up Five's love of his life, Vivian, from my Halo series. That AU spawned its own series of one shots that you can read here.

I love writing these two horny love-birds, so if you have any requests for a story featuring them, or Five and a reader-insert, let me know!

The traffic was incessantly slow, with the cars creeping forward mere inches at a time every few minutes. There was nowhere to go; not even a shoulder to drive on if you wanted to be that kind of jerk. Which, after over an hour of sitting in roughly the same spot, breathing in exhaust fumes and listening to his wife’s horrific playlist of songs, Five would have gladly taken twenty traffic violation tickets just to get out of there. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, imagining it was the neck of whoever had caused this nightmare to begin with.

Viv risked a side glance, noticing the red flag that was the twitchy eye and bared teeth of her husband. Her eyes moved back in front of her, to the glove compartment where Five kept his Glock, and she subtly pressed her knee up against it. Just in case.

About thirty minutes into this fiasco, Five had put the car in park and blinked out and down the standing row of cars to try and get a look at what the hold up was, much to the shock of the other drivers. After he had stood on the side of the road, hands on his hips, assessing the situation in the most Five way possible, and then blinking back into the car, Viv had scrunched down in her seat and gave the confused, older lady in the car next to her an embarrassed smile.

Risking making things worse, and possibly her life, Viv quietly cleared her throat.

“Five. There’s nothing we can do. It sucks, but there’s no point in getting all assassin-level angry about it.”

When Five’s head whipped around in her direction, she flinched just slightly; his face looking dangerously crazy.

“Yes, I know there’s nothing we can do, Vivie.” He drew out his words slowly and measured, as if talking to a small child. “But I am tired and hungry and very, VERY over this music.” He stabbed his finger at the screen that had just lit up with the beginnings of “Sweet Caroline”, stopping poor Neil before he could get to the chorus.

The car was quiet again and Viv tried to choke down the laugh she felt forming inside of her. It never failed to amuse her when her murderous husband with a long history of blood and violence started acting like a toddler that was overdue for a nap and a snack. The more she sat there, watching him seethe out of the corner of her eye, the more she thought about it. And then she couldn’t keep it suppressed anymore. The laugh started as a muffled snort, and then her shoulders started to shake. When Five looked over at her, completely unamused, it all burst forward in a loud, obnoxious cackle that had her doubled over.

“Always glad to be your entertainment,” he snarled, looking away again.

“Oh, come on, Five…you don’t have to be so dramatic,” Viv argued, even as she still tried to swallow her laughter.

“How am I being dramatic?” Five asked loudly, throwing his hands in the air with all the drama of a telenovela actor. “You’re the one that wanted to go to this restaurant across town, even though I told you it would be a bitch to get to. And I was right, wasn’t I? You know, sometimes you can admit when I’m right. It wouldn’t kill you.”

Rather than answer, Viv reached across with one hand, squeezing his cheeks and squishing in his face. She beamed over at him as he gave her the death glare. Part of the fun of messing with him was knowing she was the only one that could ever get away with it. Anyone else would have been swiftly joining the unidentifiable roadkill that was lying next to their car.

“You’re so super cute when you’re all angry.”

Five swatted her hand away. “Thin ice, Vivie. You’re on real thin ice.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What exactly are you going to do about it?”

“Off the top of my head, I’m thinking of spatial jumping myself out of here and leaving you here.”

Viv scoffed. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, how far would you even get?”

“Far enough to get away from this mess and to think happily back on the image of you still sitting here, crying tears of regret over your treatment of me.”

Viv pressed her lips together to keep from laughing again. Even though Five’s body language and words gave the impression of some serious underlying wrath, the tiniest formation of a dimple on his cheek gave him away. He may have actually been pissed at the situation, but he’d never leave her like that.

“Fine. You were right…I was wrong. This was a bad idea. There, you good now?” she condescendingly patted his thigh.

As she turned back towards the passenger window, in the process of taking her hand back, she felt him grab hold of it, keeping her pressed into his leg. She turned back to face him with a questioning look. All she received in return was a very evil smile of which she knew the exact meaning behind. Uh-oh.

“Oh, no…no way, buddy. I am not giving you a hand job in the middle of a traffic jam. Absolutely not.”

Even Viv knew her argument lacked much conviction; the sternness in her voice was definitely not very convincing. When Five didn’t respond, she kept going.

“Besides, it’s not like we’re very hidden here, we’re surrounded by all these other cars with people in them and it’s broad daylight out. Not to mention my very nosy window neighbor over here, I’m pretty sure her name is Gladys, keeps looking over at us. I think she likes you.”

None of that did anything to dissuade Five; it was as if she hadn’t said anything at all. He just grasped her hand tighter, that cock-sure smile of his never wavering.

“First of all, you need to make up for this disaster you put us in, which you have so kindly admitted was your doing. Second, I have a very different kind of job in mind for you, my love. And third, I know you; and I can guarantee you’re going to have your head in my lap in a matter of minutes.”

Five took Viv’s hand and pressed it roughly between his legs, making sure she knew he wasn’t fucking around. She could feel him growing and getting harder as he rubbed her palm over the top of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a soft exhale.

“Jesus, Five. How can you be so pissed off one second and so horny the next? That’s not normal.”

He opened his eyes and grinned over at her. “Just one of my many talents. Now, are you going to get over here? Or are you going to keep pretending you’re not going to suck my dick when I tell you to?”

She laughed softly, but didn’t make a move, even though her breath had become noticeably faster and she stopped trying to pull her hand away.

Five unbuckled his seat belt and slid the seat back further to make more room. Then he settled back into the seat, spreading his legs apart and leaning his head back with his eyes closed.

“Darling, I really don’t want to have to tell you again,” he warned, not even bothering to look over at her or open his eyes.

As he moved her hand over the crotch of his pants again, Viv took a deep, shaky breath and bit her bottom lip. He knew exactly how to get to her. How to turn her from a strong, confident woman into a quivering mess of sexed-up gelatin. It’s like he knew the special, magic formula to instantly soak her panties and leave her wanting him. She may have been the boss of him in every other aspect of their lives, but when it came to anything sexual…Five was in charge.

After a brief look to her nosy neighbor, who happened to be looking straight ahead for once, she undid her own seat belt and leaned in closer to Five. She lightly ran her lips over his neck while she started undoing his pants.

“You’re lucky I’m willing to let you talk to me like that,” she murmured with a smile before kissing the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve been letting me talk to you like that since the day we met,” he replied; which was entirely true. Then he let out a soft moan as she freed his dick from his pants and started slowly stroking him.

“So, what’s going to be in this for me?” Viv asked, still teasing him with feather light kisses on his neck.

“Dinner. Maybe,” Five answered dryly, trying to conceal his smile as he inhaled a sharp breath when her hand moved over him again.

The movement stopped completely then, and Five opened his eyes to look at her unamused face. Trying to push himself up into her fist, but to no avail, Five conceded with a short laugh.

“How does this sound? If we ever get out of this nightmare and home again, I’m going to get you on all fours and fuck you with my hand, then my mouth, and then my dick until you’re coming onto each one of them.”

Viv could feel the unmistakable rush of moisture between her legs when he said things like that. It was an automatic response from her body; because it knew that’s exactly what was going to happen. She started to rub his cock again, harder and faster this time, causing him to flop his head back with a loud groan and close his eyes again.

“Deal. Just make sure you’re watching the road and pay attention if we start moving.”

“Uh-huh…got it,” he mumbled, his hand already pushing her head down.

Vivian was on him a second later, taking him all in at once, and letting him guide her head with his hand in her hair. If there was one thing she knew, it was that the man loved a good blow job. She’d given countless to him over the years, and in that time had gotten to know exactly the way he liked it and the quickest way to make him finish, too. She considered herself a Professional Number Five Cock Sucker at this point. She could have taught a class.

She made little moaning noises as she moved her head up and down in a certain rhythm, making sure the head of his dick hit the back of her throat each time. She gagged once in a while, but he liked that, too; knowing he was big enough to choke her if he really pushed her down hard enough. The angle was awkward, but not anything she couldn’t handle and she used her hand along with her mouth to speed things up. But when her neck and back were starting to ache and the gear shift was digging into her armpit, he was still going strong. She had another trick up her sleeve that would wrap things up, though.

Taking her mouth off, but still working him with her hand, she looked up and made sure he was watching her face as she licked her lips.

“Let me feel your cum down my throat, Daddy,” she purred, as seductively as she could.

Then she was back to sucking him off and she could hear the low groaning noise that meant he was going to do just what she had asked of him. His hand tightened in her hair and he held her down while he pushed his hips up, his back arching and body stiff and twitching while he lost himself to her expert mouth-fucking skills. He was almost completely spent, the last few spurts of cum sliding down her throat, when there was the undeniable crunching sound and hard jolt of their car hitting the one in front of them.

Viv did choke a little with the impact, and lucky for Five he didn’t get his dick bitten off. The car had been rolling so slowly that it had only gently bumped the other car. But it was still enough to do some damage. Not to mention the impact had somehow kicked the music back on and suddenly the car was being blasted with the all-too familiar lyrics of “Sweet Caroline”.

…touching me…touching youuuuuu….

“Fuck!” Five cried as Viv lifted her head up quickly and looked out the windshield to see what had happened.

She groaned. “Five, god damn it! I told you to watch what you were doing!”

“Yeah, I know!” he snapped back at her over the loudly obnoxious song. While trying to stuff himself back into his pants and zip up, he visibly winced. “I guess my foot slipped off the brake! I was a little preoccupied!”

Sweet Caroline…bum bum bum…

“You were preoccupied?! I was the one choking on your damn dick!”

“Charming, Viv, really.”

Good times never seemed so good….

“Well, shit. Great, the guy is getting out of his car. Oh my god, he’s walking over here! Now what?”

“Jesus, I don’t know! Act fucking normal I guess, if you can manage that,” Five barked at her. “And turn this FUCKING music off!”

Five practically punched the touchscreen with his fist and Neil shut up again. The car seemed extra quiet, except for their angry breathing.

As the other driver got closer, Viv suddenly realized the absurdity of the whole situation. She knew what they looked like; her hair a tangled mess from Five’s hand, lips swollen and her chest flushed. Five was breathing hard and trying to tuck in his shirt and buckle his belt. Then add in the fact that they had started yelling at each other, and Viv immediately burst out laughing. When Five looked at her, first in complete shock, he must have come to the same conclusion she had and he shook his head with a smile.

“You are a very bad girl, Vivian Hargreeves.”

“And you are a very bad influence,” she replied with another giggle.

As Five composed himself and got out of the car to assess the minor damage with the annoyed looking man; Viv glanced over to Gladys who was wearing a very sour expression on her face. Clearly, she had seen the whole thing go down, including the sinful activity that had taken place. Instead of hiding in embarrassment, though, Viv just waved out the window to her with a happy smile and gave her a thumb’s up. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and licked her lips, all while staring the haughty looking woman in the face. She couldn’t help but crack up again when she saw the woman gasp and cover her mouth with her hand, completely appalled.

Later that evening, after they had finally gotten home and eaten dinner and Five had eaten something else just like he had promised, they were lying in bed in the dark when Viv started laughing again.

“I can’t stop thinking about that lady’s face. She was so horrified. I’m sure she was going to go pray for us as soon as she could get back to her church.”

Five chuckled. “Well, you did put on a good show.”

“Yeah, but was it worth that ticket and the increase in our auto insurance?”

Five pulled her in close to him and kissed her cheek. “Absolutely one-hundred percent worth it.”

Viv sighed and laid her head on his chest. “You know what’s weird though? I kind of liked it.”

“Of course you did. What’s not to like?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not that. Doing it in public like that. Where people could see us? It was kind of a rush.”

“Huh. Well, that’s certainly good to know. Let me file that away along with all the other dirty things my wife likes.”

“That file must be getting pretty big by now. Your wife sounds like freak,” she laughed.

“You have no idea.”

A few days later, Viv was standing in front of her closet after her morning shower, wrapped in a towel and staring at the empty space that used to be occupied by more clothes.

“Five! Where the hell are all my work pants?” she yelled out.

A minute later, Five strolled in with his coffee, looking suspiciously innocent. “What do you mean?”

She eyed him up with a hand on her hip. “My pants are missing. Know anything about this?”

He shook his head with a smile and took a sip from his mug. “Not a clue. Weird. Guess you’re going to just have to wear a skirt to work.”

Viv narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Five shrugged and walked to her closet, looking at the line of skirts. Picking out a tight, black skirt that would be way too short to wear to work, he placed it on the bed. “Wear that one.”

“Five…I can’t wear-“

“I thought I’d come by and take you out to lunch today,” he interrupted with a gleam in his eye.

Now she understood. This skirt was for him, not her. And she was pretty sure she knew what lunch meant.

With a shake of her head she smiled. “You know, this skirt would actually be perfect to wear today. Even though there’s a good chance I might accidentally give everyone at work a look at my Area 51.”

“Your what?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying out new names for my vag. Area 51. Like it?”

“I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he replied sarcastically.

“Yes, you do,” she grinned.

Five just smirked knowingly and left the room to let her finish getting ready. But when she opened her underwear drawer, she found that it was empty as well.

“God damn it, he’s good,” she muttered to herself with a smile.

Viv spent the rest of the morning trying to avoid the scandalized looks of her coworkers while also trying to pull her skirt down so it wouldn’t ride all the way up and show the entire lab her bare bikini biscuit, which she had decided was her new favorite term. In between wrestling with her completely inappropriate outfit, she kept an eye on the clock. She was supposed to meet Five downstairs in the lobby at noon. He didn’t say where he was taking her, but she figured that was because she was the lunch.

Finally, it was noon and Viv rushed downstairs, fully anticipating a nice long lunch hour consisting of an orgasm or two. When she saw Five she hugged him and gave him a kiss.

“So, where are you taking me?”

He let his hands roam over her hips and down to her ass that was just barely covered by the skirt. “I don’t care. Wherever you want. What sounds good?”

Viv frowned. “Wait. Are you actually taking me out to lunch?”

He smiled innocently. “That’s what I said I was going to do. Why? What were you thinking?”

With a very suspicious look at her husband, Viv cocked her head to the side. “What was up with the skirt then? And the no panties?”

Again, Five just shrugged like he had no idea what she was getting at. “Nothing. I just like that skirt, it looks nice on you. And you probably left all your underwear in the dryer like you always do.”

Viv let out a frustrated sigh. “You are so weird. Fine, let’s go across the street to that café. If I can make it there without flashing the entire city my pink velvet sausage wallet.”

Five choked on a shocked laugh. “Your what?”

“What? You don’t like that one? I thought it was a winner.”

“And I’m the weird one,” he said with a shake of his head.

After their actual lunch of food, where Viv fully expected Five to blink her out of there and fuck her somewhere private, but never did; they walked back across to Viv’s building where she went to give him a kiss good bye.

“Hang on. I’ll go up with you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“Can’t I want to spend a few more minutes with my beautiful wife? Is that a crime?”

“You’re up to something, Hargreeves; I know you are.”

But Five gave no further explanation, so they walked to the elevator together. Viv’s lab was on the 20th floor, and the elevators were all packed with workers returning from lunch. When the doors opened, a throng of people pushed in, filling it almost to capacity. Five had led her in with a hand on the small of her back and they ended up in the back corner, which Viv didn’t really like since they were packed in so tight. She leaned in closer to Five so she didn’t have to be so close to the other people.

As soon as the doors closed and everyone pushed the buttons to their respective floors, Viv felt Five’s hand on her ass. She turned and gave him a little smile, since that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him to do. But what he did next certainly was. She stood there while he continued south with his hand, stopping just below the short hemline of her skirt. Then, with a move so smooth she wasn’t sure how he did it, his hand was under the back of her skirt with his fingers sneaking forward between her legs.

Viv let out a loud gasp, then quickly shut her mouth as several people turned to look at her. Five continued sliding his fingers forward until they were perfectly positioned, the slick from her rapidly dampening pussy coating them as he started to gently finger her. Viv tried to step away, but he held her to him with a firm grip on her arm, and he moved her body so that her back was closer to the elevator wall. It obviously wouldn’t take much for anyone near them to realize what was going on. But as with most elevators full of people, it was awkwardly quiet and everyone just stared straight ahead or at the moving floor numbers.

Viv tried to clench her legs together, then she tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp, but neither one of those things worked and Five didn’t let up. As the elevator climbed the floors, stopping periodically to let more people on and off, she started to get more and more turned on. He really was an expert finger fucker, and he knew all the right things to do to drive her crazy.

There were still plenty of people around, although it had thinned out a little. Five pretended like nothing was going on, just staring straight ahead like everyone else. Viv had to close her eyes and bite her lip to hold in the whimpers that were dangerously close to creeping out of her mouth. When Five sank his middle finger inside of her, fucking her with it while also fingering her clit, she couldn’t suppress a moan. When a man started to turn around to look, she coughed loudly to try and cover it up and he turned back towards the doors.

“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? Don’t let anyone hear you.” Five whispered so softly in her ear that it was almost inaudible. But she heard it, and she also felt his lips graze over her ear lobe when he said it.

It wasn’t fair. Five had an entire car to fully unleash himself in before. He didn’t have to be quiet or hold back his orgasm. This was a totally different level of torture; even if Viv was both loving and hating every minute of it.

Finally, after what seemed like the slowest crawling elevator ride in history, the last person got out on the 19th floor. When the doors closed behind them, the long, shaky moan from Vivian echoed through the empty space.

“You fucking bastard,” she panted out before finally breaking free from his grasp on her arm, as well as his hand under her skirt.

Five just smirked proudly and then quickly slammed his fist against the stop button, halting the elevator between floors with a jolt and setting off the alarm. He was back on her in a second, pushing her against the back wall and kissing her hard, one hand on the side of her neck while the other slid back under her skirt. This time he didn’t care about being discreet, and he shoved the front of the skirt up so she was fully exposed for him and he picked up where he left off.

Viv cried into his mouth as he lifted one of her legs up to his waist, holding her under her thigh while he circled her clit over and over again with his hand. His body was pressing into hers and he was breathing hard and fast; kissing her neck while she whined for him.

“Did you like getting fucked under your skirt like that? With everyone around? Knowing you could get caught at any second?” he murmured.

“Fuck, I hate you so much. But yes…oh god…yes I liked it.”

“You better finish up for me, angel. We can’t keep this stopped forever. If these doors open, everyone will see what a horny little slut you are.”

With each heaving breath Viv let out a whimper until he had her completely falling apart; her hands raking through his hair and her head thrown back.

“That’s my girl, keep going,” he urged as he pushed harder and faster.

That was all she could take and then she was yelling much too loudly for no one else to hear, even if they were trapped in there alone with alarm bells blasting. Her cries kept going, too, her body pulsing against Five’s hand as she clutched onto his arms. When she could finally stop, Five pulled away and lowered her skirt for her. The giant grin on his face was incredibly annoying, but Viv could only let out a wheezy laugh as she tried to compose herself again.

“Fuck…”

“Sorry, darling, we don’t have time for that. This will have to suffice until you get home later,” he quipped as he wiped his hand off on his pant leg and then pushed the button to stop the alarm and get the elevator moving again.

They were only one floor away from her stop, and when the doors opened, Viv found herself face to face with several of her co-workers looking very concerned.

“Oh my gosh, Vivian! Are you ok? We heard the alarm and then we thought we heard screaming.”

Five smirked and looked at his wife, cooly leaning with his back against the doors to keep them open for her, his hands shoved in his pants pockets.

Viv smoothed out her skirt and ran a hand down the back of her hair, before faking a laugh and waving a dismissive hand at the group of worried faces.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. It was silly, actually. Five accidentally bumped into the alarm button and it scared me so I screamed. I’m so over dramatic sometimes,” she explained with a self-deprecating eye roll.

That seemed to satisfy everyone well enough, despite some suspicious looks, and they slowly scattered back to their work stations. When they were alone again, Viv turned to Five in a huff.

“I’ve said it before, but you really are an asshole.”

Five grabbed her hand and pulled her into him, holding her around her waist. “Sounded to me like you were having a pretty good time. And you’re always saying how I don’t listen to you. Well, I listened this time. You wanted public sex; I delivered.”

Viv couldn’t really argue with that, so she just shook her head and put her arms around his shoulders. “As much as I enjoyed that little ride you gave my panty hamster back there, consider this war.”

“Panty hamster? What is wrong with you?”

Viv laughed and kissed him before he stepped back on the elevator, still smiling at his crazy but adorable wife while the doors closed between them.

It was a week later when the war continued. They had a deal worked out every month where Viv would let Five drag her off to their small, public library in town and sit there while he pored over old, dusty textbooks of the most boring variety in exchange for him letting her pick out any movie to go see and he had to go along with no complaining. This weekend it was library day.

She hadn’t even been doing anything all that sexual. Just resting her hand on his leg while he scanned through some old physics textbooks and she leafed through a mystery novel. It’s not like she’d never rested her hand there before. Or absent-mindedly stroked her thumb over his thigh. But for whatever reason, this time, it was getting to Five. Maybe it was the fact that he was surrounded by books, and the quiet of the library, which he’d always loved. Or maybe it was weird, suppressed memories of him and Dolores in a similar building, only with fewer walls and less readable options.

Five tried to block it out of his mind, instead concentrating on the long, drawn-out equations and laws of thermo-dynamics. But he found himself reading the same sentences over and over again, his mind wandering to her hand and the warmth of her skin penetrating the fabric of his pants. Then his mind wandered even more. To what he knew her hand felt like on other areas of his body. Despite the internal battle in his head, visions of her stroking him, hard and fast, while kissing him and biting at his neck were working their way to the forefront. And unfortunately, she had noticed.

“Something wrong there, honey? You look a little flushed,” Viv asked with a smile as she moved her hand further up his thigh.

Five cleared his throat. He really didn’t want her to win this one. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

After he continued pretending to be engrossed in his book, Viv took it one step further and pushed her palm against the swelling between his legs, rubbing it over the top of his pants. She heard the unmistakable sound of a quiet groan and she jumped a little when he suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“Nice try, angel. You may have me worked up just like you always know how to do, but two can play at this game.”

He held her hand on his crotch while using the other to pull her chair closer to him. A loud screeching noise filled the air as it scraped over the floor and several people looked up to stare. Knowing that Five was trying to embarrass her on purpose, she just smiled over at him and pushed her hand in harder.

It was difficult to keep up the façade, though, when Five was returning the favor by shoving his free hand up the sundress she was wearing and rubbing her over her panties. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. When she retaliated with a squeeze and her own rough tug it made him growl deep in his throat.

After a couple minutes of under the table rub and tug, they were both quickly losing their resolve. It didn’t really matter who was going to win anymore.

“What do you say we take this one step further?” Five asked quietly in between ragged breaths.

Viv took a glance around her. There weren’t many people there, but there were a few. There was absolutely no way they going to be able to just start fucking without anyone seeing. And last time she checked, sex in a public setting was still a crime.

“As much as I want to…and believe me I really want to…I don’t think this is the best place for that.”

Five ran a finger inside her underwear and she let out a tiny squeak before shoving her hand down his pants and grabbing hold of his dick. Five jolted in his seat, his knees hitting the underside of the table.

“Fuck, Vivie,” he whispered. “This is happening. I am going to fuck you in this library right here, right now.”

She looked around again and then noticed the quiet reading room in the back. It was used mostly by students for studying but it had several small cubicles with desks for privacy. Perfect.

Viv removed her hand from his pants and pushed his away from her. With a smile she stood up and offered out her hand to him.

“Come on, I have an idea.”

Tugging at the front of his pants, Five looked up at her. “So, I have to walk across the library with a raging hard-on? Thanks a lot.”

“Well, it’s either that or you sit here and wait until it’s gone and your balls are blue as fuck.”

“Fair point. Just try to stay in front of me so I don’t look like some disgusting pervert.”

“You are a disgusting pervert.”

His eyes narrowed at her remark, but he stood up and took her hand while Viv led him to the back room, all while trying to hide his awkward boner from the suspicious eyes of the librarian as they walked past. Once inside the study room they could see there was only one other cubicle occupied. It was by a college-aged student that seemed oblivious to his surroundings and had earbuds shoved in his ears as he tapped the rhythm of the music out on the desk with his pencil.

Viv saw an empty one in the back corner and they hurried over. She pulled her panties off and shoved them into one of Five’s pockets before straddling his thighs. He uncuffed his dress shirt at the wrists and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows like he was going to start in on some major work, before he started undoing his pants. Viv draped her arms over his shoulders, running her fingers softly through his hair and pushing it back over his ear.

“Do you know how impossibly sexy you are?” she asked in between her own quick breaths, trying to keep her voice down. Leaning in close, her lips brushed over his neck. “Sometimes I look at you and I can’t even believe you’re mine.”

“This is supposed to be a quick fuck, you know that right?” he asked as he revealed his straining cock to her.

“So?”

“So, when you say amazingly romantic things like that to me, it makes me want to take my time with you.”

Viv moved further up his lap, adjusting herself carefully, and sank down onto his dick. The quiet moan he let out sounded much louder in the quiet of the reading room. Viv breathed out a soft laugh at his inability to hold back. The skirt of her dress covered them so that at least they weren’t totally exposed, although it was going to be pretty obvious what was going on if someone walked by. She didn’t care about that, though, because all she wanted to do was let Five take over and make her feel good in the way only he knew how.

With her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her chest held tightly to his, her lips found their way to his neck again. With her face pressed into his warm skin, she closed her eyes and breathed in, convinced that he must emit some type of pheromone that was made specifically for her. She imagined this invisible chemical compound drifting out of his pores, being driven by his bounding jugular pulse, and going directly to the unevolved part of her brain that was activated only by pure sexual impulse. Because there was no way anyone else in the world would be able to turn her on as completely as Five did, just on scent alone.

“Can’t I tell you nice things and still want you to fuck me senseless?” she purred.

The answer came in the form of Five roughly pushing her hips down and forward, using his strength to pump her body back and forth on top of him, despite what he had said about wanting to take his time.

Viv whimpered softly next to his ear and she could hear the sexy grunting noises he was making under his breath as he thrust her aggressively over his cock. Her body was being driven exclusively by his strength, with his fingers digging into her hips and ass; the muscles in his forearms straining as he worked hard and fast. The chair started to creak with the movement and the legs thumped and scraped on the floor.

“Someone’s going to hear us,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

“I don’t care,” Five answered, looking her in the eyes while his hair fell over his own.

Viv bit her lip to suppress a moan and she smiled at him. “What would you do if we got caught?”

“They can watch all they want. But nothing is going to stop me from Fucking. You.”

His last two words were accentuated with more forceful thrusts, slamming her down so hard that the chair was loudly shoved backwards.

“Do more of that, please Five,” she begged, knowing he couldn’t resist doing anything that drove her crazy like that.

Five gritted his teeth and continued to pound her body into his, the hot sleeve of her cunt sliding tightly over his dick faster and faster until he was sure neither one of them were going to hold on much longer. The chair underneath him was complaining loudly and Five tried to quiet it by bracing them with his foot against the floor, the sole of his expensive Oxford leaving black scuff marks on the faded linoleum as his heel skittered across.

Viv’s hands were in his hair and the back of his neck as she desperately tried to muffle her cries into his shoulder. She could feel her clit banging into his pubic bone over and over again until she was dangerously close to coming. She should have been in a hurry, trying to speed things up and will herself to finish so that they wouldn’t get caught. But the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of it. She wanted someone to hear. She wanted someone to see.

“You feel so good like this. I want everyone to see, too. Let them see how good you fuck me; that I’m the only one that gets to touch you. I’m the only one that gets to ride your dick. Let them watch while you make me come, just for you, Five.”

“Jesus, Vivie…” he moaned into her hair. “If you say one more thing like that, I’m going to-”

“Come on, baby; let this whole library know how Number Five Hargreeves fucks his wife,” she groaned next to his ear with a smile.

“Oh, fuuuck, yes!” he growled much too loudly, throwing his head back and digging his fingers into her waist while they both climaxed together.

Viv startled and put her hand over his mouth, but it was too late. There was no way in hell no one had heard that.

“Five!” she scolded half-heartedly in between heaving breaths. She was already trying to climb off of him on stiff and cramped legs. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, Vivie,” he panted, helping her to stand up. “You did ask for it, though.”

Once she fixed her dress again and looked back over, she saw he was smiling, not even giving a shit that he had alerted half the library. Viv risked a quick peek over the cubicle wall and by some miracle there didn’t appear to be anyone around. She may have talked a big game during the heat of the moment, but she hadn’t really wanted to endure the humiliation of getting caught.

She leaned her butt against the desk, trying to catch her own breath as she shook her head at him, watching as he nonchalantly zipped up his pants again. He passed a hand through his hair and looked up at her, somehow managing to look even more handsome than usual.

“How do you manage to do that to me?”

“What do I do?”

“Make me fall in love with you over and over again.”

Five laughed softly, looking slightly embarrassed. “Only you would turn a quick, public fuck session into a romantic date.”

After they smoothed their clothes and hair out as much as possible, and their underpants were back where they were supposed to be, they emerged from their little cubicle. They only got about ten steps out, though, when they were stopped in their tracks by a very stern and irritated librarian who blocked their path with her hands on her hips.

“I would like you both to know that we do not take these shenanigans lightly, and I have alerted the police who will be here shortly. As I’m sure you are quite aware, there are laws against indecent exposure and lewd public acts.”

Viv didn’t know what to say or do, except for turning beet red and looking at her feet. But Five just flashed the lady his best innocent smile.

“Actually, there was no indecent exposure. We made sure to keep it classy.”

The librarian huffed loudly and pointed a finger in Five’s face. “Now, listen here, you…you…hooligan! I am used to having to remind the teenagers to behave in here, but you are two grown adults. It’s disgraceful! You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

As Viv stood there, trying to decide if she should laugh or not while continuing to stare at the floor, the kid that had been studying at one of the other cubicles got up to leave, but stopped in front of Five on his way out, a big grin on his face. He offered out his hand for a fist bump.

“Dude, way to go, that was awesome. Seriously, best study session ever.” His eyes roamed over Vivian. “Whoa, she’s hot, too.”

Ignoring the other guy’s attempt at male bonding, Five put his arm protectively around Viv’s waist and pulled her against his hip. With another heart-melting smirk that had her trying not to laugh again, he raised his eyebrows at her. Viv could feel the tell-tale staticky sensation vibrate against her body as Five was already flexing his hands.

“Ready to leave, darling?”

Viv nodded with a smile. “Yep.”

“Tell the cops we said hi,” Five snarked just before opening one of his convenient portals and jumping them both out of there.

They landed slightly off from his intended mark in the parking lot, Viv’s back slamming into their car door. Post-orgasm blinks were always a bit trickier for him.

“Ow!” she cried.

“Sorry, are you ok?”

Vivie nodded, rubbing her back but still smiling. “Nice one, by the way. Poor lady, though. At least she’ll have something to talk about at her next knitting circle.”

Five laughed. “I don’t think they talk about lewd public acts in knitting circles. At least not hers, I’m guessing. But I’m pretty happy that I got called a hooligan. That’s a new one.”

As they both got into the car and Five started it up, he turned to his wife, with her messy hair and flushed cheeks, and smiled.

“So, where should we plan our next little adventure?”

“Next adventure? Uh-oh, I got you addicted to being a sex criminal now, didn’t I?”

He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. “I think it’s more like I’m just addicted to you, angel.”

“See? There you go again, being annoyingly sexy and making me fall in love with you again.”

A cop car pulled in, and Five drove quickly out of there, one hand on the wheel and the other on her leg. He gave her bare thigh a squeeze as he turned out into traffic. “As long as you keep feeling that way, Vivie, consider me one very happy and lucky man.”

Link to my Master List

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mywifeleftme · 10 months

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136: Emmylou Harris // Wrecking Ball

Wrecking Ball Emmylou Harris 1995, Elektra

What side were you on in the Lanois Wars? No matter whether it was Sucks or Good, we all lost. All I see is an endless grey expanse of stormclouds thundering with muffled floor toms, ground heaped with murky guitar tones and broken aviators, waves of reverb washing against a tastefully emptied shore. Probably the worst thing anyone can really say about Lanois’ serenely wreathed production on the series of career reclamation projects he helmed in the ‘90s (Dylan, Nelson, the Neville Brothers etc.) is that it’s all a bit mannered, that it doesn’t fully trust these icons to impress on their own steam anymore. There are plenty more sphincterous rings of producer hell than that in my estimation; those albums all did what they set out to, and sound pretty great. At his best, “Eno’s pet romantic” (as Robert Christgau once called him) brought the most stirring grand gestures of New Age/ambient to rock, creating music that felt like glimpsing heaven on a rainy day.

(God that paragraph was stupid. I should’ve cut that whole bit right? Moving on.)

These days Lanois produces infrequently—by the 2000s he'd become an artisan who specialized in a single expensive, antiquated handicraft, dealing to a small clientele of legacy artists looking to tastefully evoke their own previous triumphs (e.g. U2) or to tastefully evoke the previous triumphs of someone else (e.g. The Killers). In 1995 though, when he worked with Emmylou Harris on this comeback album, he was at the height of his reputation as an elder-whisperer, and the narrative around the album all but said he had to dig Harris out of her grave and shoot her with the Re-Animator serum to give her career back to her. (Never mind that Harris was just 48 years old and both looked and sounded as great as she ever had.)

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Wrecking Ball was certainly a radical change in her presentation to this point in her career. Out went the Nashville session guys, in exchange for heavyweights from her new producer’s rolodex (notably Larry Mullen, Jr., Brian Blade, Daryl Johnson, fellow Canadian Malcolm Burn, and Lanois himself on guitar). Moody, Anton Corbijn-esque portraits replaced the teased-up hayloft glam photography of her last few releases. Back in the ‘90s and early ‘00s the cliché answer to someone asking what kind of music you like was, “Oh, everything except country and rap.” Like Johnny Cash’s American Recordings series, Wrecking Ball was about retouching Harris’ star persona to allow more rock fans to relax their biases and enjoy her for what she’d been all along.

Harris may be my favourite country singer. While she’s capable of a powerful holler, her greatest gift is her softest, the way she allows her voice to become so breathy it trembles in and out of hearing—on the ballads her vocal lines are like landscapes naturally hollowed out by the wind. Even when she was a teenager, she wielded her staggering voice as though it were an instrument of glass, so still and introspective compared to the Tammy Wynettes and Tanya Tuckers who dominated the genre in the ‘70s. These qualities only came into sharper focus as she aged—listen to her parched whispers on Neil Young’s “Wrecking Ball,” the way she gathers strength as she builds to the cosmic chorus of “Waltz Across Texas Tonight” (a rare co-writing credit, with Rodney Crowell).

Despite her many successes as a solo artist, she’s if anything better known as a peerless backing vocalist, willing to give herself over to help others accomplish their own visions. The stuff that most explicitly resembles Lanois’ solo work (e.g. “Deeper Well,” “Blackhawk”) is perfectly fine, but seems better suited to like a Robbie Robertson solo album than one of Emmylou’s. The record is better when it plays to its star’s established strengths—not because she’s incapable of doing different things, but because it’d been too long a time since those strengths were treated as delicately as they are here. Again, as with American Recordings, I don’t believe Wrecking Ball is its artist’s ‘definitive’ work. But it is a very satisfying repackaging that bought her an entrée to a non-country audience that otherwise might’ve taken much longer to embrace her, and an enduring record on its own merits.

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136/365

#emmylou harris #daniel lanois #country #'90s music #'90s country #running off at the mouth #music review #vinyl record

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dustedmagazine · 2 years

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No. 2—First Love (Jealous Butcher)

First Love by No. 2

“Time’s Up” churns a bristly hash of distorted guitars. It thumps. It grinds. It swaggers. But it also croons in an easygoing way. If you had to place it by decade, you might well put it in the 1990s, that home of Sebadoh’s sweetened grunge-y folk, of Belly’s exuberant guitar come-ons, of Elliott Smith’s angst-studded tunefulness like rusty nails wrapped in batting. And that would be fair enough, because Neil Gust of No. 2 first emerged in the 1990s, right next to Elliott Smith.

Neil Gust spent the 1990s in Heatmiser, a Portland-based band that began in angular, post-hardcore abrasion a la Fugazi (Cop and Speeder) and ended in a soft indie haze (Mic City Suns). The band was best known as a starting point for Elliott Smith (it also included Sam Coomes of Quasi for a while) and as an early out queer rock outfit. It was pretty great. No. 2 is Gust’s post-Heatmiser project, started in the late 1990s with Gilly Ann Hanner on bass and Paul Puvirenti. There have been two previous No. 2 albums—No Memory from 1999 and What Does Good Luck Bring from 2002—but it’s been a while. Music has moved on considerably.

You need to know all this, but you also need to know that No. 2 doesn’t sound all that much like Heatmiser. First Love exudes nostalgia, not just for the hard edge of guitar laid down next to the soft curves of pop, but for youth itself and the music that accompanied it. “I’m on a Mission” ratchets up an Eddie Van Halen rock riff and batters the walls with tom-pounding drums; it’s like classic rock radio late at night, coming in through the static, a soundtrack for the industrial strength fear of missing out that we all stop feeling after a while. “Model of a Universe” struts and preens and twitches, blues rock in its underpinnings, but radiantly indie tuneful in its swirling chorus. The rough-housing waltz, “Night after Night,” revisits Gust’s first apartment as it burns to the ground. It is both pensive and rowdy. It’s in a mood as it caroms recklessly through its memories.

The music oscillates from introspection to big rock pay-off with aplomb. The band is locked in, but loose. The instrumental parts cut sharply through the mix, fuzzy but easily distinguishable. You are hearing what Gust and his mates want you to hear. So it’s youthful excess filtered through adult control and capability, which is the best kind. “Too much is not enough,” sings Gust on one of the disc’s most exhilarating sounds, and he’s right.

Jennifer Kelly

#dusted magazine #albumreview #jennifer kelly #no 2 #first love #jealous butcher #neil gust #indie rock #rock and roll #heatmiser

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arklypurple · 4 hours

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ALBUM REVIEW: HIP TO THE JAVABEAN (2004)

What's in the Toaster?: the first non-instrumental opening. pretty simple and not exactly listenable on its own (it is 25 seconds long). 3/5 beans

Sunbeam Lightshow Flower Seed: pretty good. singable. story in the verses, meaningless chorus. i do like the song as a whole. 5/5 beans

Musical Chairs: me when i see the ghost of chairman mao in the mirror. kind of slaps. 5/5 beans

Atomic Copper Claw: can people stop trying to find a darker meaning to this song jfc. it's a fun song abt a guy with an ambiguously special claw hand. i am 100% certain neil thought of the name first and the song after on this one. 4/5 beans.

Your Evil Shadow Has a Cup of Tea: embodies the good of early lemon demon. goes hard. 5/5 beans

Telekinesis: love the way he says psuedo like suede. pretty good overall. 4/5 beans

Matches and Nails: ough. it's a springtime morning. it's like 50 degrees F out and you are sitting there, taking in the scenery, and all the just barely budding plants. there's a little dew on the amount of grass that's even there. 5/5 beans

Relativity: banger. this song feels much shorter than it is. not much else to comment on. 5/5 beans

Fancy Pants Manifesto: me when i make the octopus nervous. what else can i say. 4/5 beans

Go to Hollywood: treating going to hollywood as a draft. incredible. "what was once on a pedestal's now on the shelf" is a pretty good line. 5/5 beans

I Know Your Name: my name is not, in fact, bob. or fred for that matter. go burn down that supermarket though, that's a great idea. 5/5 beans

Consumer Whore: Young Neil Tries To Do A Social Commentary: Part II. the vaguely anti-capitalist sentiment has been here since this album, no idea how some people can't see it in spirit phone. 3/5 beans

Between You and Me: long-distance relationships song. not explicitly romantic so i'm claiming it for myself. don't mind that the person i'm thinking about lives within the same state as me we are both teenagers so it's still an unreasonable visiting distance. 5/5 beans

I've Got Some Falling to Do: i'm starting to think this guy didn't fall on accident guys. also i love that they're besties with the angel of death. i far prefer this version to the other 2 though the original deporitaz had the problem of Being Deporitaz and the anniversary remake is like uncomfortable in a way i can't place. 5/5 beans

Sick Puppy: curse of 7 minutes of lead-up. pretty good closer though, and the actual meat of the song is very nice. 4/5 beans

#/it speaks/#the lemon demon marathon #lemon demon #album review #and with that i am officially Out of what i consider “early lemon demon”#next up is Damn Skippy which is the start of “middle lemon demon” imo #i think it's safe to say we've reached the point where i like all of the songs on each album #might drop the number rating tbh #it's getting a bit pointless #gonna take a break now

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all-the-fun-of-the-cirkus · 4 months

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the great album odyssey continues with neil young's harvest, an album i kinda expected to be lukewarm on and that i ended up, uh, being lukewarm on

this is a deeply strange album in context. it was a smash hit, catapulting neil to stardom. it had heart of gold, smash hit single. and the critics, uh, didn't really like it, and even hardcore fans tend to put it somewhere around the middle of a vast catalogue. why did it sell so well? i'm not smart enough to tell you. maybe neil was right, and people do wanna hear about love. this is, after all, the album borne from his newfound romance with carrie snodgrass. except it's not, really. that's all isolated to the first few tracks, the rest are just about whatever, in typical neil fashion

truth be told, though there's nothing on here as good as, say, tell me why, i think this is rather lesser than the sum of its parts. there's only one outright bad track (there's a world, which might actually be the worst song of his i've yet heard, pure schlock), but other than the last three tracks it feels really monotonous, which is odd given that objectively speaking, there's a world, old man and are you ready for the country don't really sound anything like each other. maybe they're just all midtempo, not particularly varied; if any album needed a sedan delivery it's this one. weirdly enough it sounds more monotonous than the live versions from massey hall and young shakespeare, and those albums only have two instruments! it doesn't help that out on the weekend, heart of gold, old man and alabama all have the exact same drumbeat

i think the live performances are the killer tbh. maid/heart of gold on young shakespeare is stunning, these versions are... alright? actually, i do really like heart of gold, i always appreciate straightforward prayer in rock music (i'm not even religious so idk why), and ben keith's slide guitar (he's actually the mvp throughout, and the real step forward from gold rush) is lovely and plaintive.

maid... well. this is a controversial one, so i'll step carefully; the orchestra does sound ridiculous, i can't argue. i really rather like the horn melody after "when life and love turn strange and cold," but whoever thought it was a good idea to include fuckin tubular bells had clearly been too hard at the wacky baccy. i waver back and forth on whether it's as sexist as its reputation; i think he's pretty clearly not saying all men need maids or anything, but if he's implying he wants carrie to be his maid, so to speak, that's certainly eyebrow-raising. this isn't, like under my thumb levels of misogyny, at any rate. the actual tune is very nice though, and the stripped-back live medley is gorgeous

beyond that this album sort of dithers around for the rest of its runtime. the end stretch is notable, i guess; alabama's not great but it's a burst of energy, needle is haunting and words would be the clear best song on the album (i love the contrast between the grungy guitar and the delicate piano and neil's wavery vocal) if there wasn't like a full minute or two in the middle where nothing happened. at any rate, it's a totally unexpected question mark to end with, and the only thing really pointing to the ditch trilogy

everything else ranges from "good, but" (old man, which actually would be a great song if it had a good chorus) to "meh, but listenable" (the title track, with the silliest line on the record in "dream up, dream up, let me fill your cup with the promise of a man"). actually the real problem with this album is that it's his least interesting set of lyrics yet. it doesn't really pull of his typical wry esoteric metaphor or a more straightforward emotional spiel, it's just kind of lyrics for the sake of having lyrics, and neil's normally better than that

look i hate writing about music by just going track by track and saying "this is good, this is less good," but in all honesty, this just... didn't leave enough of an impression on me to do otherwise. i was hoping to be able to construct a narrative between this (the romance album) and zuma (the breakup album), but this isn't even that about the romance. or maybe it is, and i'm emotionally illiterate. or it's just 4 am. at any rate, it's better than hawks and stars/bars, but not by much. fortunately the two unlistened to neil albums i have in reserve are harvest moon and trans, which i hope present some better opportunity for analysis

#neil young #folk rock #not my best work tbh #need to find on the beach somewhere for my next port of call

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caravelmp3 · 3 years

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UNDER THE CANYON MOON

pairing: josh kiszka x female!reader warning(s): mostly fluff, just brief mentions of alcohol and sex word(s): 2k note: hi hi hi !! this is just a little something i wrote up the last couple of days with the inspiration of light my love, canyon moon by harry styles, and the interview where josh talked about road-tripping the u.s. last summer <3 i don’t write one shots often but let me know what you all think bc i might shuffle some more out soon lol. hope you all enjoy !! :)

The Los Angeles sun was hot, beating down onto the city basking in its late-summer hues. You parked your car on the street in Silver Lake and carried a bag of food and drink tray to the door of a recording studio, more than prepared to be swarmed by hungry boys who had been cooped up in the studio since five a.m. on the dot that morning. They had a breakthrough the night before with a new song, and after getting home and going to bed for a few hours, the creative juices started flowing again and they were back in the booth.

A windchime on the door sang as you pulled the door open and walked inside, greeting their manager who was at a table by the door.

“The boys here?”

“Down the hall,” he nodded, pointing a finger in the direction of the hallway. “They’re more rowdy than usual so be prepared,”

You laughed and turned down the hall, walking towards the studio. The walls were decorated with memorabilia of rock and roll greats and record plaques, and among them, you spotted a picture of the four boys with their Grammy award. It seemed like time had passed so quickly. They won the award for the first album and they were already working on their third, shooting them further into stardom.

“Coffee’s here!” You shouted in a really bad New England accent when you noticed the recording light was flipped off above the door.

You stepped into the room to a chorus of cheers and “thank god you're here”’s that made you laugh while sitting the food and drinks down on the table and they all rushed over. You handed out the specific orders and pointed to which drinks was theirs when they got handsy and tried to grab everything from her out of both excitement and some desperation for caffeine.

“Our savior,” Jake said, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders to give them a gentle shake before taking the coffee you were holding out to him, and then you handed Danny’s to him, too.

“Just the coffee girl here,”

“Well, you’re a little bit more than that,” Josh said, walking over to the table to grab his full cup.

You pressed a hand against the table, leaning over to him. “Just a little?”

“A little bit,” he shot you a wink before swiftly pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You were more than just a “little more” than the coffee girl, you were typically their designated drunk driver, the one who took all of their candid photos, the mediator in times of need, and well, the girlfriend of the lead singer, too.

Everyone in the studio took their food and drinks and scattered among the seating area in a break from recording. Instead of one tiny room with all of them cramped together, they had a wide open space with booths for the different instruments and bean bag chairs and big comfy, velvet sofas, and there was dim lighting with deep toned rugs that gave off the vibe of a more relaxed feel rather than the fluorescent-light, tiled-floor feeling that made them feel rushed and confined by rules they didn’t set themselves.

You liked the studio, too, and often took naps on the sofa while listening to them play instruments individually in the recording booths and while they were writing. One night they had found you at two a.m., bundled up with a blanket on the bean bag chair after they spent the night writing in the front room on the piano, but it wasn’t the first time as you often napped in their Nashville recording offices, too.

“You guys been busy today?” You asked jokingly while lowering onto the sofa armrest, receiving nothing but glares shot in your direction. “Okay, okay, touchy subject,”

With a mouthful of bread, Sam pointed to Josh, “Josh finished a song, didn’t you?” He was grinning.

You hummed in joy and surprise, grabbing Josh’s knee as he sat next to you. “Really?”

It had been a rough few days for all of them as they tried to shuffle out a few more additions to the new album. It felt incomplete with something missing, but they couldn’t quite put their finger on what it was exactly, so they attempted to bring back and revamp old songs, write and record new ones, but nothing seemed to stick, until now.

“Yeah, wanted to wait and show you later, but someone can’t keep his trap shut.” Josh said, pretending to be serious before cracking a smile and taking a sip of his coffee. “Just wanted it to be a surprise,”

“Well it can still be a surprise, I’m surprised now,” you said. “Can I hear it? Or read what you got?”

Josh nodded and stood, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him. There was a little recording room fit with a piano inside, his writing journal placed on the music stand where he had scribbled notes and keys and melodies in pen. He picked it up and handed it to you.

“Nothing seemed to click until last night, when I started putting it together.” He said.

“Is that why you wouldn’t tell me what it was when you all got back to the house?”

Josh shrugged, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, yeah, I wanted it to be special when you first heard it.”

You sat the coffee cup down onto the floor while lowering into the small chair in the corner, holding the journal like it was the most delicate piece of art in the world. In silence, while Josh watched on anxiously, you read the words he had splayed across the blank page.

Can you light my love? Flames glowing bright as the sun Deeper than oceans you run Watch as our world has begun

Your mind is a stream of colors Extending beyond our sky A land of infinite wonders A billion lightyears from here now

You felt your throat tighten, tears tempted your eyes.

It was a love song.

“Josh-”

“Oh god you hate it don’t you, you dread it, despise it,”

“Oh shut up, I’m in tears right now, you know I love it.” You looked up at him with a smile and a sniffle.

His words across the page were sloppy, some cursive, written in different pens of different colors, some lines crossed and scribbled out, others underlined.

“Your mind is something I will never fully understand.” You told him as he sat down on the chair next to you. “How the fuck did you come up with this-”

“I was thinking about our trip out here, the week we spent driving out and all of the stuff we did… and how I think I fell more in love with you.” His voice softened.

You reached out, placing your arm on his shoulder, fingers playing with his curls. “I can’t put it into words how much I love it, how much I love you,” you said, “and you make me sound so lovely when in reality I know I was a pain in the ass that entire trip.”

“Yeah, but my pain in the ass,” he kissed the inside of your arm.

Two weeks before the boys left Nashville to head to Los Angeles, Josh called you at midnight with an idea in mind – the two of you renting a camper to drive out to L.A., falling into all of the tourist traps along the way and stopping in random small towns to sleep while exploring the in between, which would definitely beat the boring four-hour flight. And you, half asleep and across the country, agreed.

It would be fun. Right?

And it was. Every time someone asked how it went, you called it “the most magical week of my life.”

While the others waited behind for their flights the next week, you and Josh set off from Nashville, heading west with only the destination in mind and a trusty map in hand. Everything else just came to you both.

The first stop was three hours in the trip, in Memphis. You and Josh roamed Graceland on Elvis Presley Boulevard and had lunch near Sun Studio before taking in the mementos and relics at the Blues Hall of Fame where Josh talked your ear off, rattling off more details about each band and singer than was on the info-cards on the wall.

Then it was two hours to Little Rock, falling asleep in the back of the camper after a take-out dinner outside of a random supermarket. Sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of a parking lot, you held Josh’s hand under a blanket and watched the pink sunrise over the hills, and then it was back on the road again.

From Oklahoma City to Amarillo, you fiddled with the map when Josh got lost after a wrong turn in a small town where he insisted on seeing the giant 66-foot LED soda bottle sculpture, and in the middle of northern Texas, he made it up to you by cooking your favorite dinner. You thanked him in a quiet whisper as you crawled into the bed with him that night, sliding under the covers where he greeted you with warm hands and kisses against your neck that made you squeal with the tickle of his mustache and he grinned against your lips.

Josh got to choose the music all the way through New Mexico – Neil Young and Crazy Horse to John Denver’s Thank God I’m A Country Boy, and you were only able to squeeze in Joan Baez every hour when you stopped to stretch your legs on the side of the road, belting the words to him while he laughed at your voice cracks.

And after you both pitched the tent in the Petrified Forest in Arizona, Josh hummed the tune to some new song while you two sat under the midnight stars in the canyon with a roaring fire, his arm around you, his sweatshirt draped over your shoulders. When he tried to start telling you a scary story after you heard a weird noise outside the tent, you blindly hit him in the dark and accidentally hit his nose, causing you both to burst into laughter after the initial panic left. He laughed loudly into your shoulder as you held his face in shock, catching the scent of your lavender lotion, and his body relaxed when the laughter died down, feeling so at peace in his life with you there.

It was the tail end of the trip, but the excitement hadn’t died down yet. After showers in the camper in the middle-of-nowhere-Arizona and five hours west, you and Josh found a bar outside of Las Vegas that resembled Coyote Ugly, so you both had a round of tequila sodas and margaritas before walking around the small town that evening and sleeping off the tipsy-headaches in the air conditioning. On top of the covers, you looked at Josh napping in the sunshine, cheeks flushed red, curls poofy from the wind, and you felt your heart grow in your chest before falling asleep next to him.

And then came Los Angeles, the final stop, the dreaded one. But you and Josh didn’t tell anyone that either of you were sad to be back with them in L.A. when they asked, and instead, you two smiled and hugged everyone after piling out of the camper in the drive-way of the Silver Lake house.

Cleaning out the camper, tossing cheesy novelty t-shirts at each other and laughing at how many socks you two managed to lose along the way and how many bug bites were added, watching the developed clips Josh had filmed of scenes in the desert and you asleep in the passenger seat, you both were nostalgic about a trip that just ended.

It was so easy, so freeing to just be together on the road, with only the destination in mind. It revealed a part of them that the other didn’t see often, like your tendencies to get your lefts and rights mixed up while giving directions, and Josh’s equally awful sense of direction didn’t exactly pair with the fact that he was a maniac while driving in the first place.

But those parts were just added to the long list of why you and him loved each other in the first place. So you became the designated driver after Amarillo and Josh stuck to telling you “left or right” for the rest of the time. It was a compromise, another reason why you two worked so well together.

It was a form of love in itself.

“We’ll have to drive all the way back to Nashville then, so you can write more songs about me.” You teased.

Josh rolled his eyes but cracked into a grin a second later. “Let’s not get too carried away,” but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t always mentally reliving the night under the canyon moon.

#gvf imagine #greta van fleet imagine #gvf #gvf one shot #greta van fleet one shot #gvf fanfic #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka one shot #josh kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet

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ufonaut · 2 years

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u can ignore this if u dont want discoursers @ing u but i just had to yell bc im losing it @the connor section of the pride thing. SO much worse than anything i couldve imaigened. imagine being sandra hawke and getting that letter from ur seemingly teenage son. "hi mom how are u btw ive decided i dont want to fuck anyone" like WHAT? cannot believe that actually got published an im seeing nothing but ppl positively freaking out abt it. ppl acting like its rep on par w actual gay characters. nutty

NO PLEASE LET'S TALK. IT WAS DISGRACEFUL. IT WAS RIDICULOUS.

the story completely ignores the fact that connor has been gaycoded since his very first appearance, it ignores his history with the men (eddie fyers, master jansen, his grandfather) who were father figures to him when ollie was pretending he doesn't exist/dead, it ignores the particulars of connor's relationship with his mother and the fact that they just don't share that kinda bond... but hey, that's been talked to death. by me. by other people, i'm sure. instead, i'll say we know the very act of making connor asexual is an act of homophobia but we should get into just how far that goes.

first and foremost:

at this rate, there's no beating the inherent infantilization of characters of colour allegations. and certainly not between connor being aged down and greatest hits such as "i want to tell someone about my awesome day and eat ice cream".

but the real showstopper here is these fantastic words being put over panels of a character created specifically for one of the single most recognisable out gay men in pop culture:

let me put it this way: there's no music meister in comics, he did not exist before neil patrick harris -- a gay man -- voiced him in the brave & the bold cartoon and even meister's origin frames him a certain way ("bullies used to pick on me because i sang in choir/but something very strange occurred when i kept singing higher," he sings in his debut episode). there's also no inherent sexual or romantic element to meister's gimmick, merely an ability to control people through music

and yet, in the press release from hell that preceded this story, the writer notably called music meister the 'perfect villain' for connor. why is that? what are we meant to understand here? arguably, someone along the lines of poison ivy would be more appropriate here (connor's lack of sexual attraction would save the day etc, you get the picture). in the pride special, meister doesn't have a single line of dialogue, there's not a single thing about him that makes him an especially necessary piece of the story or irreplaceable in any way... except for the fact that he's associated with a gay man by default, except for the fact that the narrative seems dedicated to showing gay people as capable of oppressing asexual people (whose silence is an 'aberration' and is 'ruining our chorus', right?).

not to mention, the absolutely insane phrasing of sex involving "sharing" your body with someone but that's a whole other conversation and all i've got to say on it for now is that it makes the author sound wildly christian lmao.

point being, homophobia won and everyone celebrating connor's story is undeniably a homophobe.

#connor hawke #green arrow #dc pride 2022 #oh yeah im going in #asks #anon

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ivyaugustetc · 3 years

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free therapy for the dps fandom

soooo one of my lovely besties @pretentious-strikes led me to a certain link to a certain video that, in seven minutes and fifty-six seconds, restored my will to live?

so here i declare, i have FREE THERAPY FOR THE DEAD POETS SOCIETY FANDOM and it's this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Lv6DCkloAM

okay okay let me point out the highlights:

0:28—todd saying "if i ever see neil's father again, i'm gonna kill him." TOTALLY CALM AND OUT OF THE BLUE AND EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE "...yeah"

0:32-1:29—Mr. Keating showing up and LEADING THE MEETING (RECITING THOREAU AND EVERYTHING)

1:30-2:40—TODD READING HIS POEM TO THEM GROUP JDIDOIFJEIOWFBEJWKFJB, FOLLOWED BY EVERYONE CLAPPING AND CHEERING FOR HIM UGH SO SWEET

2:52-2:56—Keating hugs todd simply because HE'S PROUD OF HIM FOR READING UGH I LOVE TO SEE IT

3:01-3:15—um some kind of cult ritual involving random noises?

3:16—Todd saying "you girls have never had so much fun" towards Chris and Ginny (i think) in reference to the odd cult ritual and IT'S SO FUNNY AIDOIEF HE SOUNDS SO UN-TODD LIKE IT'S CRAZY

3:31-3:58—just them walking through the snowy woods singing a random song that none of them really know the words to very loudly and it's really fucking chaotic and adorable

4:00-4:09—they recite a random poem/verse with keating as they slide down onto some frozen over pond with a frozen waterfall ITS SO PRETTY OH MY GOD

4:16-4:40—them all just sliding around on ice and yelling them THEN I SAW THE CONGO CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK, CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK thing with keating

4:50—the director starts to play some funky irish music and IMMEDIATELY THEY ALL START DANCING

5:01—Keating square dances with Meeks, Knox, and Pitts

5:11—Keating notices Knox and Chris dancing and leaves them be while looking at them like they're adorable (which, in this scene alone, they are)

5:12-5:28—just knox and chris dancing together. i think this is the closest we ever get to seeing the most fanon version of knox on screen because they both genuinely look so happy as their dancing and jumping and spinning together. it's actually pretty wholesome to watch

5:29—KNOX AND CHRIS KISS AND I KINDA FOUND IT ADORABLE IM SO SORRY BUT. SHE LOOKS HAPPY. they go back to dancing a moment later and chris is so fucking adorable i can't

5:50—todd almost falls and recovers so gracefully u go babe

5:48-5:53—you see chris jumping and spinning by herself for a good five seconds and it's the most adorable thing ever

5:52-5:58—todd and chris dance together for a brief second and it's adorable i'm pretty sure he saves her from almost falling and she laughs about it

5:58-6:02—just pitts doing a lil jig and being the cutest fucking human on the planet <3

6:03-6:05—meeks floats across the screen for a second doing his own lil jig and it's hilarious and adorable at the same time

6:10-6:12—todd square dances with ginny for a sec and it's adorable

6:17-6:20—chris does a random dance move that's adorable and pretty sexy of her if you ask me

6:19-6:37—they form a sudden conga line/circle and jump around for a few second UGH IT'S SO CUTE

6:46-7:02—they all form a line and dance in it for a good bit. you see todd dancing with ginny at the end and it's so precious jesus christ

7:05-7:19—charles and ginny dancing together <3

7:22—todd yelling YAWP!!!!, causing a chorus of similar YAWP!!!!!s from everyone. literally my favorite part of the entire video i get so many chills oh my god

7:29—keating yawps from the top of the waterfall and they all yawp with him JDIEWJIFEOWJIJO

7:30—an adorable thumbs-up from keating

7:34—someone (i think todd) yells SPEECH!!! at keating and he yells back "what can i say???" in some accent and they all find it hilarious

7:46—keating salutes them and bows. i love that man <3

YEAH I LOVE THAT VIDEO A LOT. um i hope you like this guide to therapy and here's a fun drinking game! take a shot every time you read the word "adorable" in this post because it happens a lot. stay carpe diem you fools <3 much love

#dead poets society

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ophelliate · 2 years

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Bang Goes the Knighthood Takes

It's been about a week. I've listened to this album for about a week.

Honestly I didn't really know what to expect with this one considering like I said prior, this was a tumblr favorite it seemed but it also wasn't the album considered to be the "Hannon-aissance", that'd be Foreverland. The only other context I had for it was that three years prior to the release of the album, Neil Hannon had a divorce with his wife, and while most of the details seemed to be kept private at the time of listening, I guessed the album would explore the subject one way or the other? Turns out I was wrong about that and it was actually Victory that put some light on the matter, but it's still what I had in mind when going in.

But in terms of my thoughts of the album after listening? Well my first conclusion was essentially, "Perhaps I treated Absent Friends too harshly" (and I did).

1.) Down in the Street Below

First Impression: "Very gentle opener; honestly not what I expected."

I have a soft love for this song but first and foremost, I'm just surprised this was the opener. It fits, definitely, but compared to past albums this one stands out to me. All the other albums seem to start with very relaxed but still energetic songs, from Generation Sex to To Die a Virgin. This one in comparison is much more mellow while still fitting the vibe of Divine Comedy, and that combined with the lyrics makes me appreciate it a fair amount. My only real con is that there is a fast part in the song, but the song was too cowardly to return to it. It leaves an odd tonal gap in which I would've preferred a back and forth between the slow and fast melodies, but it might just be me not being used to the song yet.

2.) The Complete Banker

First Impression: "Makes more sense now remembering this was made around 2008."

One thing I didn't expect in this album was a song making fun of the Great Recession. Obviously by premise alone, this is the funniest song in the album. The lyrics carry this song hard. They're just funny to read in the first place and gives me a hopeful reminder that rich people have always been worth bullying. However, musically the song is a little bland in my eyes. The verses have an interesting tang but the chorus doesn't wow me at all. It's perfectly average.

3.) Neapolitan Girl

First Impression: "Oh nice vacation sounding song?"

You know, this song is very fun for being about surviving WWII warfare. Honestly without context this is such a carefree, bubbly song that sounds like you're meeting a splendid girl while on vacation– the more I go into these album-binges the more I develop a European vernacular get me out of here– The fact that it's in a much faster tempo than other songs in this album is also a major plus in its favor. Overall, great vibes, good song.

4.) Bang Goes the Knighthood

First Impression: "It sounds like another angsty animatic song, a bit more middle school energy so far though."

This was one of the songs that I fucked up on since I thought it was about the divorce at first. Then, after listening a couple more times and looking through lyrics and analysis, I realized I was very wrong and it's instead unabashedly horny to a great degree. Maybe the 'Bang' was a hint. Regardless, this gothic medieval style is beautiful albeit a little edgy. But with the lyrics focusing on kink/s&m and breaking free from the secrecy of the lust/love, of course this has queer tones to it, and I think that adds to the chill of it. Then again it'd also be just as amusing to summarize this song with the notion that Neil Hannon is down for pe–

5.) At the Indie Disco

First Impression: "The strings help it from just sounding like a song."

The more I listen to this song, the more I hate it. Why is it so popular? It's so boring. I don't care for it. The strings during the verses/bridge really are the only thing saving it. I don't even have much to say about it because it just seems plain... plain. It's the simplistic beat and the repetitive/generic melody. I don't get it. Why do people like this song? Who knows maybe my aggressive is just coming from how it got into the Best Of album instead of... literally anything else in this album except–

6.) Have You Ever Been in Love

First Impression: "God, this reminds me of the songs my mom would play constantly when I was in middle school."

This song is kinda also boring. Like yeah, it really does gives me vibes of something my mom would listen to but like the kind that you get tired of listen to in the background after about 5 listens. Who knows maybe I'll get into this song when I'm in my late twenties and feel the need to post life aesthetics on Instagram because I need to have my JustGirlyThings moment. Actually this song is JustGirlyThings manifested. Huh, better than Songs of Love to be honest but both are in Best Of what the fuck.

7.) Assume the Perpendicular

First Impression: "It's a little more subdued but I like it."

Banger, banger, banger– This song gives such a good energy. In general, it's a friendly song that makes you feel like you're on a vacation with your friends and just fucking around with the stuff you're seeing and having the most fun you can. And the music is a good example of a major pro with this album: a lot of it is really danceable. This song in particular makes me wanna get up and move my feet a little at having a good time. The lyrics also match up with what I think the themes are with this album, which focuses on doing whatever you want and embracing the silly or simple things in the world no matter how chaotic. And while this song decided to do it using architecture oddly enough, it manages to encapsulate those concepts in such a charming way with just the chorus that even I can relate to its own philosophy. But perhaps I just love this song in a way that makes me very obviously #quirkygirl though, oh well.

8.) The Lost Art of Conversation

First Impression: "The title makes me think this is a boomer song."

I think it could've been better. It gives me boomer energies in like 15 angles but at least one of those angles is like, vague classic rock, which is a good thing. This is also just a song with a bunch of pop culture references. because. I guess it makes sense in this case since they'd be conversation topics? I don't know, the lyrics don't really impress me but at least it's a pretty casual song for background tune.

9.) Island Life

First Impression: "The guitar and voice gives very nice folk-pop vibes."

Mm, good vibes. The beginning is a wondering introduction even if it's really long, but it sets up the dream-like atmosphere that soon enters into the folky vacation that would be a dream in the first place. This is the lawful good version of Lost in my head. Like this is the beach version of cottagecore and I'm here for it. I too would like to gather wood for the breakfast brew and watch for ships from the tallest tree. That or quarantine can just fuck up a bitch like that.

10.) When a Man Cries

First Impression: "Goddamnit it's doing the back and forth again but the emo melody is pretty."

I had to rewind this song like 5 times once because I kept spacing out and not paying attention to it at all. This song almost exists as an anomaly to me. The music box is very satisfying to hear even if it's purposefully out of time, and overall the angsty sections sound nice. It reminds me of like old, dramatic hispanic ballads in that regard. The more upbeat section is okay but I much prefer the angsty sections and isn't as exciting as the one in Down in the Street Below. In fact I say it has a similar tonal shift issue like Street Below because of that. But uh, the lyrics are honestly really good and does carry the song quite a bit.

11.) Can You Stand Upon One Leg

First Impression: "I don't know the verses are just so mid."

Forgive me sir, but I think this song is trying too hard to be quirky. I get it's trying to fit with the theme of the album since it's being silly and absurd, but like you can do that in an entertaining way. Lowkey it feels like its trying to be the Wiggles and failing. The chorus and bridge are good, but my first thought is still the same, the verses are plain. Also the ending is... well, the ending.

12.) I Like

First Impression: "Head boppy."

I like it musically, especially in the verses but alas gimmick songs have gimmicky lyrics. It's so simple compared to everything else, which is probably the point but. huh. The lyrics kinda make it underwhelming in comparison to the music. It could be better but it's in the value of circumstance for this one I presume. Pick up to the chorus is a banger, though.

I mean, I guess it was okay.

I don't know, the album didn't really wow me in the past week. It didn't give me any crisis like the others apart from the incident where someone worded their interpretation of a song as "coming out" and I went on a rapid google search for a couple minutes.

I enjoy the theme of the album but my main gripe with it as a whole is that it doesn't have that Divine Comedy™ spark in my eyes at times. Like, Regeneration was trying too hard to be indie while this album tried to be pop-y. In ways, it benefitted to its favor since, as I said, this album is danceable, but that doesn't save the songs that musically and sometimes lyrically are plain in comparison. But perhaps it was the right move at the time since those songs I called boring are the ones that ended up being popular it seems.

These songs made me realize that– yeah, Absent Friends is good, because while you could tell that the indie-ness of 2001 was still there, AF still had a personality to it that was able to create beautiful compositions with a string ensemble playing those melodies 42 hours a day. This had... medieval? No that was maybe two songs. Vacation? Well, solid guess but not really. Quirky??? Oh huh I think I just cracked the code, this was made in fucking 2010: the year/decade to be odd but still in a manufactured, trend-setting way.

That oddly explains far more than it should, but at least it explains a reason this album is iffy to me. The thing about The Divine Comedy and its music is that it's relatively timeless. Genuinely, before I knew the band well, I thought Something for the Weekend, Lady for a Certain Age, and You'll Never Work in this Town Again were all four years apart from one another at the max. You could imagine the shock I had when I discovered two of those songs have a 20+ year gap. So, for me and TDC, hearing songs where you can tell when they're from and how they've aged in so-so fashion is somewhat of a detriment for it.

One thing I can comment on about all the 2000s albums though is that they definitely give a reasonable explanation for why Hannon was chosen to songwrite for Wonka. No matter what directions the movie takes, this decade proved he could pull off either/any angle. If they want to recreate the Gene Wilder rendition of Wonka, Absent Friends shows a childlike whimsy with its classical yet homey/warm tone; If they go a more Tim Burton route, there's the gothic aspects of Knighthood and the dramatic flair of Victory right there. Neil Hannon ended up establishing a vibe this decade that's oddly perfect for some English book about chocolate.

But anywho, I'm hoping Foreverland will be fun at least. Like I said in the beginning, it's said to be the "Hannon-aissance" so I'm hoping it lives up to its claims. I might post a review of Absent Friends too considering how my thoughts have evolved in the past week about it.

Three Best Songs of the Album:

1.) Assume the Perpendicular

2.) Neapolitan Girl

3.) Down in the Street Below

Album Rankings Worst (affectionate) to Best (more affectionate):

7.) Regeneration (2001)

6.) A Short Album About Love (1997)

5.) Bang Goes the Knighthood (2010)

4.) Fin de Siecle (1998)

3.) Absent Friends (2004)

2.) Casanova (1996)

1.) Victory for the Comic Muse (2006)

If there's any thoughts you want posted from me, lmk.

#neil hannon #the divine comedy #bang goes the knighthood #music #gizl reviews

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etherrreal · 3 years

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"when you drag them to a karaoke bar on a date"

Pairing: tanaka x reader ; bokuto x reader Genre: fluff, headcanons+drabbles Word Count: 1258 Warnings: mentions of alcohol/being tipsy A/N: after that fun karaoke banter, i was excited to see this request pop up in our inbox ; hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! (psst, requests are still open btw!!) -Luna

#1 champion at karaoke for the past 5 years and counting and no one can beat him

(no, there are no official records or awards, but don't crush his dreams by telling him that)

he was absolutely ecstatic when you suggested a karaoke date

he’s....not the worst?

generally, he can carry a tune decently well but he tries waaay too often to sing a riff or add some spice like he's Mariah Carey and that's when it all goes wrong

initially, you were going to a place that allowed private rooms for groups so you can just fuck around as a dynamic duo

but he wanted to show off his skills so you and everyone in attendance could be jealous of his vocal talents, so you went to a local bar instead

As soon as you arrived at the bar, Tanaka ordered you both some drinks and wings to munch on. Grateful for the liquid courage, you ordered a second to help keep the nerves at bay. Tanaka was happy to sit back and eat so he could "gauge his competition," whatever that meant.

You could tell that he was pumped to be there; his head was nodding to the beat, his hand was tapping away on his thigh, and he was mumbling along to the words. You enjoyed watching him more than the couple screeching on stage to the tune of "Don't Go Breaking My Heart."

A few drinks and two baskets of wings later, Tanaka finally decided that it was his time to shine. He left you with a quick peck on the lips, the leftover taste of gin lingering on your lips. You watched him wave at the audience before browsing the song selection. When he settled on “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond and stumbled his way back to the mic, you knew you were all in for a treat.

"I'm going to be dedicating this one to my baby back there." He blew a kiss in your direction, a few people turning to look at you cringing in the back of the room. “I hope you all enjoy my amazing rendition of this song.”

He started out fine, pretty good, actually. The low, flat tone worked well with his voice and he knew every single word without glancing at the screen, most likely due to hearing the song incessantly play during commercials.

Then the bridge came, and as the note became higher and louder, the singing became more and more horrific to listen to. And once the chorus started, he finally let go, bouncing around the stage with the detached microphone in hand, letting the spirit of Neil Diamond flow through him.

Meanwhile, you had broken out your phone and decided to record him for all of your friends to see later. You were sure that your obnoxious cackling was caught on the video, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. This was going to be a precious memory for you hungover rockstars to look back on in the morning.

You knew that somewhere in America, Neil Diamond was cringing and didn't know why. Little did he know an overzealous Japanese man was enthusiastically butchering his song to impress his partner.

And gosh dammit, it was working.

you don't know what kind of beast you've released, oh no

before the entire question had even left your mouth, he already found a place nearby that had karaoke nights every saturday

bokuto...bless his heart

you ever heard two cats fight? they’re screeching, yowling, and making all sorts of alien noises? that’s him.

he definitely thinks that louder means better and while he’s got the spirit, the spirit wishes that he would let it go to spare its ears

bokuto waited forever to have a girlfriend, and he was sure as hell going to take advantage of the fact that you were finally in his life 👀

You arrived at the bar as soon as the event started, the host filling in the guests about the fun times that were about to ensue. At your table, Bokuto was practically vibrating with excitement as the host went on about the rules. You both learned that at the end, everyone would vote for 3 winners for the night and the index cards and pencils laying on the tables were to cast your votes.

After the explanations, the host asked for volunteers in the audience. Bokuto’s hand shot straight up, wiggling his fingers and waving his arm in hopes of getting the man’s attention. While he wasn’t the only hand up, he definitely was the most enthusiastic, which was most likely the reason why he was chosen to go up on stage.

You thought it would be just him, finally having the chance to watch him be the true Beyoncé he thought he was. But when you felt him grab your hand and yank you out of your seat you were utterly confused.

“Where are you taking me? You’re the one that said you wanted to go,” you asked suspiciously, dragging your feet to slow him down. He was parading his way towards the stage quite quickly before stopping suddenly at the edge to turn back to you, hands grasped in his.

“We’re going to sing a duet,” he announced matter-of-factly. He left no room to argue when he tugged you onto the stage, positioning you awkwardly in front of one of the mics so he could pick a song. You tried to peer over his shoulder to see what he chose, but his broad shoulders blocked the view.

He turned back to you and stood next to the other microphone, a wide grin painted on his face as he waited for the music to start. The first few notes to “I Got You Babe” by Sonny & Cher came through the speakers, your eyes instinctively rolling into the bad of your skull. That song was one that Bokuto had played countless times before, insisting that it must be the song of your relationship. You told him that wasn’t how that process worked, but it didn’t prevent him from playing it on repeat-- or simply serenading you with it-- almost every single day.

Which you supposed you had to be grateful for, because now you had to know every single word to the song by heart to sing it with him or else you’d make a fool out of yourself.

The words flowed effortlessly from your mouths, but the musical talent absolutely did not. The only way to describe Bokuto's voice was by saying it sounded like he was being actively tortured live on stage. It would explain why his pitch was all over the map.

To make up for the lack of talent, Bokuto improvised some moves, grabbing your hand to twirl you about, sometimes tugging you back into his chest to rock gently back and forth with you. The embarrassment you felt in the beginning easily melted away by the end of the performance. It was the most fun you’d had in a while, and seeing him beaming with happiness by the end was all you needed to reassure you this night out had been worth it.

Somehow, despite believing that you were the absolute worst couple to grace that stage, you both managed to win 3rd place. Bokuto was convinced that it was because of his sickening dance moves and smooth but powerful voice, and you didn’t quite have the heart to tell him otherwise so you let him brag about it all night long.

Written by: Luna

Requests: OPEN!!

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studiesinmodernmovement · 3 years

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okay okay i never thought i’d end up making a tumblr but, here we are. these two idiots broke me, i swear. Anyways, here are my top three trobed songs and analysis on Why lol:

1. We’re Going to Be Friends - The White Stripes.

Okay hear me out. I know they’re not little kids just becoming friends in kindergarten, BUT this song is so incredibly soft and cute for a “fell-in-love-with-my-best-friend” song. It just fits them, really. I mean, “We will rest upon the ground / And look at all the bugs we found / Safely walk to school without a sound” if that’s not peak repressed season one trobed then idk what is. They’re in love your honor. “Here we are, no one else / We walk to school all by ourselves / There’s dirt on our uniforms / From chasing all the ants and worms / We clean up and now its time to learn” They’re together, and honestly that’s all that matters to them. They have a beautiful friendship going on, they have fun together and they don’t care what anyone else thinks. They just need each other to be happy. “Playtime we will throw the ball / Back to class, through the hall / Teacher marks our height against the wall” They’re growing up together, and people realize. Not that it matters to them, though. They have their own little world. “And we don’t notice any time pass / We don’t notice anything / We sit side by side in every class / Teacher thinks that i sound funny / But she likes the way you sing” They’re so blinded by their love for each other that the rest of the world is just a blurry mess. Nothing matters but being together and basking in their relationship. They just want to be with each other, any chance they get. They are Gay.

2. Young Folks - Peter Bjorn and John.

Shut up this song is so fluffy trobed it actually hurts. Everything about it. “If i told you things i did before / Tell you how i used to be / Would you go along with someone like me?” We all know Troy was a huge jock in high school, and he probably took part in the whole shoving-weird-kids-into-lockers thing. Maybe he’s nervous about Abed thinking differently of him, and he wonders if they would still be friends had Abed known him in high school. “It doesn’t matter what you did / Who you were hanging with / We could stick around and see this night through” Abed doesn’t care who Troy used to be, he’s changed and thats partly thanks to him actually letting him be himself. Troy had to be like that in high school, that’s what was expected from him, being a football player and all of that crap. Abed knows the real Troy, and so his past doesn’t really matter to him. He likes present Troy, and that’s what’s important. “Usually when things have gone this far / People tend to dissapear / No one will surprise me unless you do” Abed is used to people leaving when they realize they can’t “fix” him. They think he’s too weird, or he’s not capable of human emotion, or simply that he’s not right in the head. But not Troy. Troy sticks around and listens to him infodumping about Kickpuncher and Batman and Cougar Town and Inspector Spacetime. He’s patient, and he actually listens to him. Him looking like a lovesick puppy never registers in Abed’s mind. “And we don’t care about the young folks / Talking bout their young style / And we don’t care about the old folks / Talking bout their old style too / And we don’t care about their own faults / Talking bout our own style / All that we care about is talking / Talking only me and you” Troy and Abed are aware that people talk about them. They’re aware that they’re different from everyone else, but they don’t really care. They just care about being together, any way they can.

3. The Adults Are Talking - The Strokes.

Look, i could go on for hours analyzing this song and how i think its a perfect fit for trobed, but, for the sake of simplicity, i’ll keep it short. So like first of all just the name of the song. The Adults Are Talking. How many times have Troy and Abed been referred to as children by other people? Everyone thinks they’re immature, and im pretty sure that in any serious conversation they would get stepped on. People are just crappy like that. Then we have the chorus, “Don’t go there ‘cause you’ll never return / I know you think of me when you think of her / But then it don’t make sense when you’re trying hard / To do the right thing but without recompense / And then you did something wrong and you said it was great / And now you don’t know how you could ever complain / Because you’re all confused ‘cause you want me too / But then you want me to do it the same as you” like dude. DUDE. This is clearly about Troy going on that stupid boat (I hate that boat i hate it i hate it so much. Thats another post though.) and Abed staying behind. I mean, we all kinda know that Abed is scared of Troy never returning, after all it is a possibility, and it must be heartbreaking. Then we have the whole Britta thing, that was comphet and i’ll die on this hill. There is no way that Troy didn’t think about Abed everytime he thought about his relationship with Britta, it’s actually shown in several episodes that he was constantly worried about Abed even when he actually was with Britta physically. So, thats canon. If i think that he was secretly pining over Abed and wishing that He was the one he was kissing then that’s on me i guess. Then back to Troy’s trip, he thought it was the right thing to do, and he’s trying. He’s trying so hard to find himself, find out who he really is and what that means for everything in his life. He has to become his own man, or whatever P*erce said (screw P*erce i hate him so much man), but he’s struggling. He looked so sure getting on that boat, but it would be unrealistic not to assume that he misses everyone. The Study Group, Neil, even Leonard. And of course, Abed. Was it really worth it to give all of that up? But of course he can’t complain, he’s gonna win millions of dollars!! well screw money and screw capitalism he found his soulmate you fucking asshole oh my god i hate P*erce. Anyways i could go on for hours about this song but im gonna stop now. Maybe i’ll make a separate post about it. Maybe.

Anyways that was me dumping my thoughts and love for music onto all of you. Bye bye.

#trobed #troy barnes #abed nadir #idk how to use tumblr and at this point im too afraid to ask #theyre gay your honor #is this enough tags #community

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Smoke & Mirrors - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: Save me

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: what’s gonna happen if we lock them together for some time...?

warnings: some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+

author’s note: 4,8k words, just because I thought I needed to add more plot to it because you wanted 2 shorter chapters instead of a longer one. Who’s laughing now?

Reading this may cause a slight whiplash. Sorry, not sorry.

song for this chapter: Aimee Mann - Save me

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

----

The Protagonist’s eyes darted at Ives.

“And what did she say?”

“Short answer? Nunya,” Ives shrugged, closing the door behind him.

Wheeler giggled and TP looked at her in confusion.

“Long answer,” continued Ives, joining the other two by the coffee machine, “is that as long as they're doing their job, it doesn’t matter who they are fucking in their free time.”

“And are they?”

“What, fucking? I thought we’ve already--”

“No, doing their job,” TP pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I have a mission for them, but it requires locking them together for a significant amount of time.”

Wheeler took a sip from her cup. “If they don’t bond, they’ll bone, and I’d say it’s better than killing each other.”

Ives snorted, clearly amused, but TP hid his face in his palms and groaned lightly.

“Was that your plan all along?”

Wheeler gave them an innocent smile. “Wasn’t yours?” she asked, and as she caught the exchange of looks, her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome.”

-----

You found the car parked near the front door and you had to admit - that grey-ish sedan was the dullest, most ordinary vehicle you’d seen in a while. And that’s why it was perfect.

Neil tossed you the keys and proceeded to load your bags into the trunk. You went to check the GPS setting. The total route was calculated for a little over 5 hours, which gave you enough time to go over the details of the assignment at least once on the way there.

As your mission partner took the passenger seat, you handed him the tablet with all the documents loaded up and ready to go. He nodded, fortunately sparing you the small talk and unnecessary comments, and started reading through them out loud as you followed the GPS directions to your destination.

What you didn’t expect was an almost insultingly short length of reports from the previous stakeout teams, and even a slightly more detailed operation brief was not enough to keep you occupied for too long. Exhausting all the work-related topics, you tensed, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence between the two of you. Especially since you caught Neil’s stare, because if his furrowed brows could be any indication, you had a feeling he might start asking way too many questions any minute now.

As the radio crackled again, you groaned in frustration. There were still two hours left of traveling through the middle of nowhere, and you’d appreciate any distraction that wouldn’t make you want to drive into the nearest tree. Unlike talking to your partner.

Neil opened the glove compartment and searched through its contents. He found a thick CD case and started flipping through pages curiously. With the corner of your eye, you saw a grin lighting his face when he finally picked one.

As you heard the familiar piano notes, your knuckles on the steering wheel turned white. Oh, fuck no.

You glared at Neil, who was gently swaying his head, eyes closed, fighting himself to keep a straight face. When the lyrics started, he pressed his palms to his chest right over his heart and looked at you as he mouthed the words.

//When I was young

I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun

Those days are gone//

You gritted your teeth and focused back on the road, trying to keep in check the rising anger already boiling the blood in your veins, as Neil was clearly feeling the song more and more with every line.

Well, at least this time he wasn’t--...

And then just as the chorus was about to hit, Neil mimicked the opening drum sequence and spread his arms wide, singing along:

//All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself

Anymore//

“If you don’t change that fucking song in the next 10 seconds, be ready to walk all the way to the city--...”

“Come on, it’s a classic!” he complained, the biggest smile not leaving his face even for a moment.

You smacked your tongue, finding your most casual voice, “...and I’m not gonna be bothered with pulling over.”

Neil turned down the volume so the music was barely audible, and while it was not what you’d asked him to do, he didn’t give you a chance to scold him.

“I bet you’ve spent at least one evening listening to that song with a big box of ice cream on your lap,” he smirked, closely watching your reaction to his words.

You could feel your ears burning. Fucking hell, you really hated his guts.

“No,” you scoffed, but even you were not convinced by the sound of that. Judging by Neil’s expression, neither was he. You winced and groaned, ”...shut up!”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” - he shrugged - “been there, done that.”

“Of course you have,” you couldn’t help but snicker at the image planted in your head.

The blue eyes studied you for a while longer before focusing back at the view outside the window. Meanwhile, the song ended, getting replaced by an instrumental track. You turned the volume up and for the next minute or two, you drove in silence.

When you heard a light chuckle, you glanced at Neil again. There was something peculiar in the look on his face, a soft gaze in contrast to a knowing grin.

You sighed.

“Do I wanna know what you’re grinning about now?”

Neil raised a brow and his lips parted in an even wider smile.

“Probably not.”

You shook your head, drawing a long breath, wondering how you were going to survive the next forty-something hours together. You could just hope that being at the actual location and starting the real work was going to make it easier.

Grounding yourself, you stared into the darkness stepping back under the car’s headlights as dusk slowly turned into night. You noticed a faint glow of city lights reflecting in the clouds over the horizon and you relaxed slowly, tuning out anything other than the road ahead.

Just as the CD player jumped back to the first song again and you switched to a local radio station, now clear of static, you realized your companion had been unusually quiet for the last half an hour. You looked at the passenger seat only to find Neil deep in his sleep and your heart started beating a little faster. Suddenly, everything about the sight seemed endearing - the peaceful face under the ruffled blonde hair, the slightly open mouth almost hidden behind the turned-up collar of the dark navy jacket, the way he wrapped his arms around himself in a little self-hug…

Your lips curled into a fond smile and as your chest clenched painfully, you turned the radio down, wishing you could do the same thing to your feelings just as easily.

-----------

The second you pulled over in the alley at the back of the abandoned hotel, two figures emerged from the door and rushed in your direction. You recognized the fellow agents and jumped out of the car to make the exchange as smooth as possible.

“Ten-minute window until the patrol comes back,” you said to a short brunette, taking your bags out of the trunk and passing her the car keys.

“Got it,” she nodded, handing you the room key in return. “Our report should be ready before we reach HQ, I will send it to you ASAP.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that the lack of an easy escape plan is intentional,” said Neil as he grabbed one of the bags and looked around.

“But it is,” you shrugged, walking into the building and heading to the nearest staircase. “No loose ends. You’re either good enough to make it out undiscovered and alive, or you get revealed and --...”

“...and then even having the cavalry on call is not going to make a difference, I get it,’ he sighed, matching your two-steps-at-once pace up the stairs, “Can’t say I like it, though.”

“So let’s try not to do anything stupid so we don’t get caught, shall we?”

A corner of your lips twitched as you heard him scoff at your remark, but to your surprise, he didn’t take the bait. Huh.

When you reached the room, you turned the lock and looked around, taking mental note of the location of every piece of equipment left by the previous team - two cameras, night vision binoculars, and a parabolic microphone placed by the windows. Some parts of the blinds on the windows were broken, others were missing, but the remaining parts still provided a decent cover from the curious eyes peeking up from street level. Other than that, the room was exactly what you would expect from a stakeout location - peeled-off wallpapers of an undefined color, a small table with an electric kettle, a couple of chairs, a mini-fridge, and a mattress.

As you went to check the last few minutes registered by the camera, Neil started unpacking the supplies. Seeing nothing interesting on the feed, you grabbed one of the water bottles he’d just put on the table and took a seat by the window, your usual first-hour-of-stakeout enthusiasm fending off the tiredness you felt after the long drive.

Neil took a laptop and sat on a chair at the other window, alternating glancing outside and typing in a message to TP with a quick update on your situation.

Your main objective was to observe the building on the other side of the street, especially one loft that was suspected to be a meeting place for one of the smuggling cells’ bosses. Snapping photos of the vehicles pulling over, of the visitors, and reporting any odd activity straight ahead. The usual. But it was past midnight already and your targets were having a pretty quiet night, apparently.

As Neil finished filing in the paperwork, he stretched his arms and groaned.

“Tea?”

You rubbed your eyes, a sudden wave of sleepiness flooded your brain as soon as you lost focus on the mission.

“Yes, please, there should be a box with a green one somewhere.”

“Ah, pity, I don’t know how well it’s gonna mix with the biscuits,” said Neil in a ridiculous posh accent, making you facepalm in response.

Partially, to hide an amused smile.

You really were that tired, huh?

“I take my tea with no sugar, no biscuits, and no snarky comments, thanks,” you huffed as your eyes followed him to the table.

“I, too, don’t like talking over a cuppa.”

“What did I just say--” you groaned, smacking your thigh in frustration.

Neil giggled and rolled his eyes, now lit by a playful twinkle. “All right, one ‘green tea no bullshit’ coming right up.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, glancing up to the ceiling as if it was supposed to help with the alarming level of annoyance in your system.

Less than two hours on-site and you already wanted to strangle him.

Among other things.

And before you could stop your tired brain, it brought up a memory of that karaoke night.

His hands roaming through your body. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. Your frantic gasp when you felt him inside you. His firm grip on your hips. The heart racing in your chest. Your longing body pressing itself into him even further. His uneven breath on your neck. The quickening pace of his thrusts. Your eyes squeezing shut. His muffled moan when you tugged at his hair. The cold wall against your cheek. Your fingers interlocked. His arm wrapped around you tightly. The things whispered into your ear---

“Your tea.”

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking rapidly and focusing your gaze on a thermal cup in front of your face. “Oh, thanks.”

Neil studied your expression curiously, a sly grin hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Pleasant daydream?”

“Maybe,” you sent him a smug smile and raised a brow.

His lips parted slightly at the implication. Drinking his tea, he schooled his features and sat back on the chair.

You spent the next moments enjoying the hot beverages, the silence becoming more comfortable with every sip you took. But as the time went by and you ran out of tea, the peacefulness turned into boredom.

Finally, Neil shuffled in his seat and turned your way.

"We should play a game."

Even though it sounded tempting, you didn’t trust those roguish sparks in his eyes.

“We already had a chance to play ‘yellow car’,” - you shrugged - “not my fault you chose a nap instead.”

His puzzled face gave you a hint he didn’t get the reference. Pity.

“I was thinking about some sort of...questions game,” he said and cleared his throat, shifting in his chair again. "To get to know each other better."

"Why?" you stared at him with your mouth open, suddenly taken aback.

He gave you a half-smile. "Don't you think it's weird that the only thing I know about you is all the ways to turn you on and piss you off?"

"Wouldn't be so confident about that ‘all’ part…" you huffed and lost a train of thought as you spotted the familiar flare in his gaze.

"You’re sure you wanna challenge me like that right now?"

A cold shiver ran down your spine at the way his voice got lower. You gritted your teeth as your mind started racing to find a way out of the dangerous waters.

"Aren't you a master of multitasking?" you teased, batting your eyelashes.

"And aren't you scared of having an actual conversation?" Neil narrowed his eyes and grimaced slightly.

"Fine!” you fumed as you tossed your hands in the air in defeat. “Why don’t you get straight to the point because I have a weird feeling you have a very specific question in mind."

A silence that dropped after your words was heavy and you realized you’d made a mistake.

"Actually, I do,” he said, tilting his head and locking his gaze on you. “What's up with you and kissing?"

...shit, walked right into that one, huh?

You pulled one leg up on the chair, glancing outside the window to avoid the blue eyes boring into you. "It's nothing."

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.”

Sighing, you rested the chin on your knee and wrapped your arms around it, as if that little bit of comfort was enough to make the conversation easier. Your ears were burning, your heart pounded heavily in the clenched chest, and it all was only adding to your frustration. Because it really was nothing. Or maybe it should have been, and that was the issue.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it--”

Your eyes darted at Neil only to meet his soft look. A shadow of concern on his face wasn’t helping, but you were grateful that he was willing to give you a way out.

Although at that moment, you felt you owed him an explanation.

“No, it’s just that it’s a bit silly,” you said, wincing. “I’m gonna tell you, but if you laugh, I will murder you in your sleep.”

Neil smiled lightly in encouragement.

“Got it.”

So you took a deep breath and squeezed the first word past the lump in your throat.

“It’s just that kissing to me was always something… special,” you cringed, fully aware that you sounded like a flustered teenager. “Like it really meant something. Do you know where I’m going with this?”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good,” you sighed, forcing yourself to breathe again. “And some time ago, I made a mistake and opened up too soon, burning myself. Fuck, it’s pathetic, I know, I just…” you hesitated and looked away, feeling the rising panic. You were exposing yourself, again. “...maybe I’m just wired that way and we should leave it at that. And never talk about it again,” your voice was hollow, the result of your brain’s desperate attempts to keep your emotions bottled up, just to keep you safe.

And after what felt like forever--

“Okay.”

You shot him a thankful look, too overwhelmed to say anything.

Neil got up, moving his shoulders in small circles to get rid of the stiffness. As he walked by you on his way to the bathroom, he patted your arm lightly. Reassuringly. The tip of your nose tingled and you bit the inside of your cheek, cursing a sudden wave of softness clouding your mind.

A few minutes passed and Neil was back. He fell on the chair heavily, slowly massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers. Catching a question in your stare, he shook his head and grinned.

“What?” you asked, squinting suspiciously.

Neil chuckled, leaning back and spreading his legs. “Trying to figure you out is giving me a headache.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, focusing on the view outside the window.

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things, you know.”

“So it’s all an act?”

You looked back at him, suddenly perplexed. “What is?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely in your direction and shrugged. “Or rather your usual behavior.”

You snorted. “Oh, I am a real ray of sunshine, but somehow being around you makes my inner bitch jump out,” you teased, meeting his amused gaze. A corner of your lips curled and you exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, after some time you learn life is easier that way, and at one point the line blurs,” you stopped for a second and frowned, wondering what had gotten into you tonight. “Does it make any sense to you?”

Something new tainted Neil’s features as he looked away, smiling sadly.

“You have no idea.”

Just as you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, the blue eyes darted back at you.

“I’ll take the first shift, already had my nap after all,” the little laugh escaping his mouth felt forced. “You must be exhausted. Try to get some sleep.”

Oh you were exhausted, all right. But all of the sudden it felt as if he wanted to get rid of you and you couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by that. There was something in his presence that gave you a hint that it wasn’t the best idea to pressure him about it now, and you slumped your shoulders, nodding.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, getting up. All that held-back fatigue was going to hit you in full force any minute now, and you really wanted to be laid down by then.

A few moments in the bathroom and you were back in the room again in more comfortable clothes. You rolled out a sleeping bag on the mattress and slipped into it, covering your mouth as you let out a small yawn.

“Wake me up if anything happens or you need me to take over, will you?”

Neil shot you a quick look from his chair.

“Sure thing,” he gave you a weak smile. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumbled.

You curled up and closed your eyes, hoping the heaviness you felt in your chest would be gone by the morning.

--------

It took your still half-asleep brain a moment to remember where you were and what was going on. You looked around as much as you could without moving your body to avoid revealing that you were no longer asleep. Oh right, the stakeout.

You noticed Neil sitting on the floor by the only floor-to-ceiling window near the corner of the room, looking outside. The early morning light seeping through the blinds was reflecting in the disheveled blonde hair, a fitting addition to his overall tired appearance. It seemed like he’d spent most of the night working through whatever bothered him after your last talk, but he seemed more at peace now. You studied him in a little moment of sleep-deprived self-indulgence, musing over the dark quarter zip pullover, those absurdly long legs in khaki pants--...

Okay, enough. You sat up, rubbing your face.

“How’s the mattress?”

Hearing Neil’s raspy voice made you quite tempted to invite him over to check for himself.

“Passable,” you replied instead, stretching your arms and wriggling out of your sleeping bag. You nodded at the cameras. “Anything?”

“Not really. One visitor, already on the list,” he said as his eyes followed you around the room.

“All right,” you sighed, flipping the switch on the kettle. “I need coffee, you want some?”

“No, thank you, but if you could pass me a bottle of water--”

You grabbed one and tossed it to him, heading to the bathroom.

When you finally looked and felt like a decent human being again, you went back to finish making coffee. As you walked to the windows with the thermal cup in your hands, you caught Neil’s resigned stare. You sat down on the floor in front of him, leaning your shoulder against the wall. A glimpse of internal battle clouded his features and you tilted your head, waiting for him to speak up first.

“I didn’t want this,” he blurted out, and when nothing else followed the statement, you cleared your throat.

“You have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

Neil clenched his jaw. You noticed a hint of frustration in his eyes, but then his shoulders dropped and he let out a nervous chuckle, fastening his gaze on the view outside the window.

“I wanted to do things by the book. When TP recruited me… I thought I’d be just another field agent and I was okay with that,” he sighed and grimaced. “But he insisted on fast-tracking me, even when I told him it wasn’t fair to the rest of you.” Neil shook his head slowly and a corner of his lips twitched. “He promised me one of his best agents’ help on the way though. Imagine my surprise when the agent in question kept snarling at me and shoving me around instead.”

When Neil looked back at you, you realized the meaning behind his words and your mind went blank. You stared into the blue eyes with your mouth open, trying to process everything you’d just heard and its implications.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you breathed out, feeling light-headed.

“Why?”

“Nobody told you…?” you asked, but his confused expression was his only answer. And you simply couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known all this time. “I’d been working my ass off for that position,” you huffed, studying his reaction to your words closely. “And then you showed up.”

Neil’s face dropped as he finally connected all the dots. “Fuck...I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

Seeing his sincere look, you sighed, raking fingers through your hair. Fucking hell, what a mess. The impossible mix of emotions swirled inside you and you giggled hysterically, suddenly finding the whole situation absolutely hilarious.

“And I had no idea I was supposed to babysit you,” you said as you stretched your legs, positioning them alongside Neil’s.

“Thought we were having a moment here,” he scoffed, smiling lightly.

You smirked and tapped his thigh with your foot.

“Think again.”

Neil tapped you back, stifling a chuckle. “You’re insufferable.”

“Too bad you can’t do anything about that now, huh,” you teased, wiggling your brows as you nibbled at your bottom lip.

The blue eyes lit up. “Just you wait till we finish the job,” he said slowly and placed a hand on your ankle.

But before you could respond, you heard a phone alert and Neil jumped at his feet.

He read the message quickly.

“Seems like we are about to see some action after all,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear. You downed your coffee and joined Neil by the table.

“Hold on, I’m gonna put you on speaker… okay, now”

“Hope you two are rested,” TP’s voice filled the room. “We intercepted a phone call. Our target is expecting a delivery in the next hour or so. Significant enough that from this moment on, the mission objective changes.” You exchanged looks with Neil, knowing well what was coming next. You walked back to the windows to keep an eye on the street. “We have a chance to prevent this shipment from spreading to different sellers. I’m sending the cavalry your way. But you’ll need to assess the situation as it progresses.”

“Means we might have to engage early, got it.”

“It’s your call, Neil. And as we have enough intel now… no loose ends. Good luck.” said TP and hung up.

Neil tossed the phone on the table and dashed to the bags to prep the equipment. You noticed movement in the loft across the street and snapped a few pictures before looking back at your partner.

“Are you good to go? You haven’t slept tonight.”

He glanced at you and gave you a smug smile.

“How nice of you to worry about me.”

You could feel the usual annoyance mixed with a new emotion, but maybe you were just glad to be back on familiar waters.

“Nah, I’m worried about the mission,” you snorted. “Especially if we may end up going in there alone.”

“I’m okay. How does it look out there?”

You looked outside again and tensed as a van appeared at the end of the street. “We’ve got company.”

Neil changed you by the window and you rushed to get ready.

-------

After clearing the back entrance, you found yourselves in the underground garage.

Splitting up, you took down the guards one by one without raising any alarms.

Neil checked the van and then you both made your way upstairs. You knew there were at least five more people in the loft, but you had to rely on the element of surprise because the cavalry was still on their way.

As you got to the door, you cocked your pistol and met Neil’s determined stare. You nodded.

Bursting through the door, your instincts kicked in, allowing you to put a bullet into two men before they had a chance to realize what was going on. In the next second all hell broke loose. You knew one thing - you somehow underestimated the numbers. And just as you thought that maybe you got lucky and got every last of them, someone grabbed you from behind and you felt something cold and sharp pressed against your neck. Fuck.

You dug your fingers into the arm wrapped around your shoulders, but a stinging pain made you stop any further attempts at breaking free. The blood pounded in your ears and everything seemed to slow down.

You noticed Neil standing in front of you with a gun pointed right next to your head.

He secured a grip on his pistol and the man holding you yelled something at him, but you didn’t listen, focusing completely on the blue eyes, now filled with a silent question, looking straight into yours.

You let out a shaky breath and blinked slowly.

A gunshot echoed through the room.

The pressure on your neck lowered and you heard a thud of a body fitting the floor behind you.

Neil lowered his gun.

You stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

“Nice shot,” you said, composing yourself first.

He gave you a weak smile, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, your comms filled with a familiar voice.

“We’ve missed all the fun, eh?”

------

Neither of you said anything on the way back to the HQ, not counting the short answers to the questions asked by Ives, but even he gave up after a while seeing you weren’t in the mood for talking.

You got your duffel bag out of the trunk and looked around. Neil was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the building, talking on the phone. You walked up to him slowly, waiting for him to finish the conversation.

“Do they need us to get in to file a report?”

“No, I convinced TP to give us the rest of the day off,” he said, hiding the phone in the pocket of his jacket. “We can do that first thing tomorrow, I’m just gonna drop the equipment now.”

“Great, thanks.”

You couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment. You tossed the bag on your arm and smiled at the thought of a long hot shower and crashing in your own bed.

There was just one thing you needed to do first.

Neil took a step towards the building and without thinking too much about it, you reached out for his hand.

“Neil…?”

He stopped and turned around, puzzled. His eyes dropped to your joined hands and slowly moved up to your face.

You gave him a nervous smile.

“Thank you.”

His features softened and he squeezed your hand gently.

“Don’t mention it.”

And then he smirked.

...of course.

“Guess that makes us even.”

(next chapter->)

#neil tenet x reader #neil tenet #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet #robert pattinson #tenet fanfiction #the protagonist tenet #ives tenet #wheeler tenet #neil tenet imagine #neil x reader #smoke & mirrors #tags hate me

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the-singlest-pringle · 3 years

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A Sweet Song

Prompt 5 of Surprise from this list: "You got this for me?"

It was not common knowledge that Billy played the violin.

Read it here on AO3.

It was not common knowledge that Billy played the violin. “Not common knowledge” meaning there were only four people that knew: Max, Neil, Old Lady Garcia, and his music teacher from California, Ms. Petrov. Neil was never meant to find out, but after word of Billy’s first (and last) performance got out, Neil smashed his violin, along with his left hand. It wasn’t long after that when Neil caught Billy with a boy. Neil lost his shit, nearly beating Billy to death, then he packed up the whole family in less than a week and moved them to the boondocks.

It was now April, meaning it was nearly his birthday and also that it would be six months since he last touched a violin. The first few months without his violin were the hardest. Billy swore that he was going through withdrawal. His hands yearned for the violin, fingers itching to play. He longed to wrap his fingers around the neck, to slide his bow across the strings, and carefully finger out some Paganini. Billy would drive to the quarry and listen to his stash of classical music. One time he actually broke down because of it. His heart ached for his violin as he cried out in mourning.

Now that it’s been six months, he’s had time to adjust. He still gets that itch when his emotions are high, but Harrington helps quell his hunger. In fact, dating Harrington had been the best thing to happen to Billy in a long time. He was kind, caring, and provided the support that Billy desperately needed yet woefully lacked. He took care of Billy when he was hospitalized because of Neil (again) and was there for him when Neil lost custody and Hopper took him in. Billy was convinced that he loved Harrington, which is why he decided to add Harrington to the list of people that knew his secret.

It was a normal night, the Party gathering at the Wheeler’s for another Dungeons and Dragons campaign, when Billy said (out of nowhere), “You know, I used to play the violin.”

He and Steve had gone upstairs to grab more snacks, so they were alone in the kitchen. Steve was already attempting to balance two boxes of cookies and three bags of chips in his arms when he heard Billy. He started to clumsily juggle and drop the snacks while stuttering out a surprised “What? Are you serious?”

Billy chuckled at Steve’s shock. “Yeah, I am. I even performed at Royce Hall back in Cali once.”

“Bee, that’s amazing!” Steve exclaims as he crouches down to collect the snacks. “How come I’m just finding out about this now?”

“Well, only five people know about it, including you. And I felt that since we’ve been together long enough, you deserve to know everything about me, which means knowing that I play the violin,” Billy explains before quickly correcting himself with a, “Well, used to play.”

“You don’t anymore?” Steve asked.

“Nah. My old man made me stop when he found out.” Billy flexes the fingers of his left hand as he says this. “I played for nearly ten years in secret. I would tell my dad I had clubs after school, but instead, I would go to the music room and play.” He clenches his hand as he continues. “When Neil found out, he took a hammer to my violin, then to my hand to make sure I would stop.”

Steve sighed at the mention of Neil, making his way across the kitchen to take Billy’s hands in his. “Your dad is a dick and I hate everything he put you through.” He pushes a lock of hair out of Billy’s face and tilts up his chin so that they’re making eye contact. “I am so glad that you’re out of that situation and that you don’t ever have to deal with Neil again. I love you so much, okay?” Steve plants a kiss on Billy’s forehead for emphasis before Billy pulls Steve closer and practically smashes their lips together.

Billy smiles into the kiss, whispering out, “I love you, too,” before they’re interrupted by a familiar shrill voice that causes them to pull apart.

“Ugh! You guys are so gross !” Max says from the kitchen entryway. She was the only member of The Party that knew about Steve and Billy. Max made it a thing to point out how gross their PDA was, which she named DAFM (Displays of Affection in Front of Max).

“Yeah, shitbird? Well, you stink,” Billy quips.

“I do not, booger face!” Max retaliates.

“Carrot top!”

“Stupidhead!”

“Half-pint!”

“Shortstop!”

Billy gasps dramatically and feigns offense. “I am not short!”

Max rolls her eyes at that. “Tell that to every guy we know!”

“I’m literally taller than Jonathan,” Billy defends.

“That doesn’t count!”

Steve just sits back and laughs at the two siblings quarreling before intervening when the volume reaches near screaming level. “Alright, alright. Break it up, you two. You’re both shorter than me and that’s all that matters. Now can we head back downstairs?”

“Ugh. Fine, ” Billy and Max say in unison. Max makes her way downstairs as Billy and Steve gather the snacks.

Billy steals a kiss from Steve before they head down the stairs, Billy announcing his presence with a “‘Sup, fuckers? What’d we miss?”, earning him a smack to the arm from Steve. They settle into the couch, a comfortable distance apart, as the rest of The Party continues playing DND.

The next time Billy playing the violin is mentioned is during Billy’s birthday party. It’s a pretty lively event considering Billy had next to no one just months ago. But now he has a family and friends, all of which have gathered to celebrate him. Just thinking about it makes him smile.

Billy is about halfway through opening gifts when he comes across a rather large box. It’s covered in sheet music wrapping paper with a bow on top. Curiously, he shakes the box, causing Harrington to say “Careful! It’s fragile,” revealing that it’s from him.

Knowing the size of the box, the wrapping paper, and the person who gave the gift, it doesn’t take long for Billy to piece together what it is.

“No… no way,” Billy says while frantically tearing the wrapping paper off the box. That earns him a chorus of people asking what it is and a smile from Harrington. “I swear to god, Harrington, if this is a joke…”

Billy slides the case out of the box, unzipping it then opening it slowly. He stares for a few seconds, not fully comprehending what he’s seeing. Staring back at him is a brand new violin. The rest of The Party is eager to see the contents of the case, but all Billy can focus on is the instrument in front of him.

“You got this for me?” Billy asks, still not believing what he’s seeing. Steve nods in assent.

Before Steve can register what’s happening, he’s pulled into a bone-crushing hug from Billy to everyone’s surprise. The Party’s confusion only multiplies when they see that a violin is what caused Billy to hug Harrington. When Billy pulls away, he looks like he’s so happy that he might cry. Steve is sure that he almost does.

“Thank you so much, Steve. I- I don’t even know what to say.” Billy is stumbling over his words, so overcome with emotions. Back in October, he was so sure that he would never touch a violin again, but now that he’s free from Neil, he can do whatever he wants. And what he wants right now more than anything is to play.

Billy slowly takes the violin out of the case. He puts the shoulder rest on the instrument and rosins the bow a bit. Billy looks up nervously at Steve, silently asking for assurance. Steve smiles at him and gestures to the center of the rug as if to say “go ahead”. Billy can feel all eyes on him when he stands up. He doesn’t even know if his fingers healed properly, but he doesn’t really care. He just wants to play. So he gets up into position, takes a breath, closes his eyes, and starts playing.

The whole Party is in awe as they watch. It’s clear that Billy puts every emotion into how he plays. His fingers dance gracefully across the neck of the violin while his right arm moves the bow fluidly across the strings. His tone is practically perfect. An untrained ear wouldn’t be able to tell that he hadn’t played in over six months.

When Billy finishes, the whole room is silent before Joyce starts clapping. Then everyone joins in, Max leading a standing ovation. Billy blushes, embarrassed by the attention, but smiles at the praise, happy people enjoy him playing just as much as he does. When everyone finishes clapping, Billy is bombarded with questions and praises.

“Oh my god, that was amazing!”

“Since when did you start playing the violin?”

“What song was that?”

“How come you never told anyone?”

“I can’t believe that Billy Hargrove just played violin in my living room!”

Billy laughs out several “thank you”s as he puts the violin away in its case. “I started playing when I was seven,” Billy starts to explain. “The piece I just played is called ‘Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor, Op. 61’ by Camille Saint-Saëns, and I never told anyone because of Neil.” The Party didn’t know the details of his situation with Neil, but gossip spreads quickly in a small town, so they knew Neil lost custody for some reason.

“Sweetheart, you played beautifully,” Joyce praised.

“You really did,” Lucas agrees, which surprises Billy.

“Could you play something else?” Dustin asks, exciting a chorus of agreements.

Billy doesn’t know if anyone besides Ms. Petrov has asked him to play. He’s still getting over the shock of it all. But he agrees. So he takes out his violin again. His violin. And he plays for The Party. He plays all night long, playing Bach to Beethoven, and even some rock songs. He plays until his out-of-practice fingers cramp. He plays because he’s happy. Billy feels fulfilled as ever with his friends and family around him, with Steve by his side, and with a violin in his hand.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #max mayfield #harringrove #harringrove fic

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tiesandtea · 3 years

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An in-depth & really interesting review of Head Music’s various - often forgotten but actually brilliant - b-sides. Originally posted on The Vapour Trail London blog on 20 November 2019.

The folklore of early Suede and the B-sides compilation ‘Sci Fi Lullabies’ would lead the casual observer to believe that the band had peaked creatively to the point that post-1997 B-sides would not be worth investigating, however I believe differently and now, thanks to the reissues of ‘Head Music’, these can now be easily accessed for wider reappraisal.

Full article under the cut.

Coincidentally coinciding with the recent release of Brett Anderson’s second memoir ‘Afternoons with the Blinds Drawn’, Suede have issued the 20 year deluxe edition of their fourth album, ‘Head Music’. Their final number one album to date was issued in May of 1999 to much fanfare, following in the footsteps of their classic ‘Coming up’ in 1996, a record that spawned no less than five top ten singles and saw them achieve astronomical fame across Europe and Asia (indeed, Anderson remains a genuine celebrity in parts of Scandinavia as a direct result). Whilst ‘Head Music’ was a hit, its making has gone down in the annals of history as being even more fraught and littered with personal scandal than even that of their second album, ‘Dog Man Star’, the record that infamously served as original guitarist Bernard Butler’s swan song. The chief reason was Anderson’s spiralling addictions to heroin and crack, which in the eyes of the singer served to influence what he and many others deem the patchiness of the record. Indeed, when Suede first reissued their heyday albums back in 2011, Brett would include within the sleeve notes his own rewritten track listings in each, citing Suede’s fervent devotion to ensuring that their B-sides were up to the same quality as their singles and album tracks, thus costing the associated albums some potential improvements. Songs from the album that often raise debate amongst its makers and listeners include ‘Asbestos’, ‘Elephant Man’, and the almost universally-derided title track, a scrappy, crappy exercise in suggestiveness that even producer Steve Osborne initially refused to have anything to do with.

Perhaps due to all of this, the resultant B-sides of the album’s singles have been lost in time somewhat. Whereas the B-sides associated with the first three albums reached legendary status in such a short space of time that the band issued a compilation double album of nearly all of them in 1997, ‘Sci Fi Lullabies’, their 1999 counterparts are rarely spoken of within the same reverent breath. I would argue that this is vastly remiss to the point of sacrilege as, taken in one listenable chunk, they serve to create what on its own would be an incredible record.

But before we investigate further, it’s worth exploring the genesis of Suede’s musical direction at this point. As Brett and the band have noted many times over the years, Suede sought to follow each album with a record almost diametrically opposed to its predecessor stylistically. The kitchen sink gutter glam of their groundbreaking debut was consciously followed by an ambitious, widescreen and darker ‘Dog Man Star’, the pretension and bluster of which was then followed by a strict album of ‘ten singles’ in ‘Coming Up’. Each time, at least one B-side would serve as a blueprint for what would follow; 1993’s ‘High Rising’ and ‘The Big Time’ served very much of signposts for what would follow in 1994, and then again in 1995, Richard Oakes’ sexy glam pop of ‘Together’ would point the band towards ‘Coming Up’ in 1996. Here, they would seek to expand upon the sonic direction of Mat Osman-penned ‘Europe is Our Playground’, a song they so loved they reworked its arrangement live and subsequently re-recorded for the aforementioned B-Sides compilation of 1997. Caked in icy synths and led by a dub-inspired bass line, it signified something cold and electronic, the desolate melancholy of ‘Dog Man Star’ reimagined by Kraftwerk or Berlin-era Bowie. The band promised this new direction in interviews and the public’s appetite was whetted.

Early in 1998, as part of a Pet Shop Boys-curated tribute to Noel Coward’, the band released one of their prime hidden gems, a suitably synthetic and clinical version of the great writer’s ‘Poor Little Rich Girl’. Unfortunately this was shown to the masses on television via a mimed performance that saw an utterly wasted Anderson grinning inanely with zoned out eyes whilst trying not to fall off a chair. This performance distracted from the impressive song (also featuring the highly talented Raissa, who had supported Suede on their Coming Up tour, on vocals) and seemingly left no impression on anybody.

And so to fast forward to the album. The making of the record has been documented extensively not only in Anderson’s second autobiography but also in David Barnett’s authorised biography ‘Love and Poison’ and Mike Christie’s recent documentary set ‘The Insatiable Ones’. If you’re not familiar with the story, it is a jaw dropping tale of decadence, debauchery and depression, the likes of which have seemingly and thankfully been removed from the culture of music making today. Indeed, there’s not a lot of money around now for bands to blow on endless recording sessions fuelled by endless drug abuse. But what emerged was a flawed but often brilliant record that has stood the test of time well and honestly sounds as fresh as the day it was released. The album’s track list can and will continue to be debated but ultimately, had they shaved off two of the more superfluous numbers (I would argue that the title track serves no purpose as does the turgid closing track ‘Crack in the Union Jack’), it would likely be held in the same high regard as the vast portion of their other records. But we won’t dwell on that here.

First single ‘Electricity’ was accompanied by no fewer than five b-sides, all of which carry some merit. ‘Popstar’, a concise lyrical study of the relationship between fan and band, contains the kind of crystalline synths and dubby bass that the band had sought to highlight with their two musical blueprints prior to the album. Richard Oakes’ guitar parts are sparser than ever before but serve the song well, and the chorus is cold and epic in a way that takes the song from good to great. ‘Killer’, complete with a lyric that seems to expand upon the ficitonlised femme fatale of ‘Coming Up’s ‘She’, is more impressive still; a dark, brooding slice of electro-noir that slinks and stalks in the manner suggested by the song’s lyric. It builds and builds to a desperate crescendo and brings to mind the best of Depeche Mode at their ‘Violator’ zenith. ‘See That Girl’, complete with yearning Anderson vocals lamenting ‘this dog shit world’, is less impressive but still good. A real undersung high point of the time is the Neil Codling-written and sang ‘Waterloo’, an electronic folk classic that sees some beautifully melodic guitar lines almost acting as choruses, and a tenderness rarely reached by the band. The fifth and final b-side (it was on the minidisc – yes, minidisc – version of the single), is ‘Implement Yeah!’, an old co-write with Justine Frischmann where Brett parodies Mark E Smith to amusing effect over a gutter-punk thrash that the band premiered with Justine at the 1997 Reading Festival.

‘She’s in Fashion’ followed in 1999 and quickly became one of the band’s better known songs via endless radio play that perhaps contributed to it being their first single since ‘New Generation’ in 1995 not to reach the top ten. Looking back, I imagine the fact that you could walk into any shop at any time during that Summer and be exposed to it as one reason why fewer people bought it than they might otherwise. The B-sides rank among the band’s very best. ‘Bored’ continues where ‘Implement Yeah’ left off with a Stooges-like guitar thrash adorned by sweet synths and a classically anthem Suede chorus. During an interview at the end of 1999, Mat Osman threatened a harder, rockier direction for the next album which never did come to fruition and it’s possible that this would have been one of its blueprints. ‘Pieces Of My Mind’ is better still, and a rehearsal recording of it sounding very different can be found on the new reissue. Taking its cue from ‘Europe is Our Playground’, it is a dreamlike wander through almost psychedelic electronica and its lilting chorus imprints itself on your mind immediately. ‘Jubilee’, a Codling creation, is one of the best of the era and would probably have made for a better first single than ‘Electricity’, a romantic epic that chugs along like ‘Trash’ and bears a dramatic and addictive chorus that would surely have been incredible live. Perhaps the lyric was somewhat off-putting to the band, a blank retread of other songs including the ‘run with me’ hook of the ubiquitous ‘Europe’. If so, this is a shame as if we are to be honest (and Brett has said so numerous times himself), the entire era was marred by some seriously autopilot lyricism that was charming in places in its framing of the Suede lyrical lexicon of language, and just plain boring in others. The single is rounded off by the gorgeous ‘God’s Gift’, a simplistic piano piece aided and abetted by swirling synths and understated bass that had been written by Brett about Justine many years before. As with a few of Suede’s records (most notably the first album), the spectre and influence of Ms Frischmann lurks around the songs of this era but in perhaps a much more positive way; the two had rekindled their friendship prior to the making of the album and it was Justine’s love of new wave that inspired some of the music.

‘Everything Will Flow’, the great lost ballad of the era in the same way as ‘The Wild Ones’ had been five years prior, saw an interesting bag of B-sides attached that differed in style in a far more pronounced way than the two earlier singles. ‘Leaving’, which Brett sees as the ultimate casualty of this period, is prime Suede in its romantic portrait of a girl departing relationship for a new life, although the underlying sentiment is entirely opposite of that of ‘Another No One’ in 1996. Although still featuring synthesised textures, its abundance of gentle guitar and piano is much more organic and not only serves as an appropriate backing to the not dissimilar ‘Flow’ but also as a subtle nod to where the band would go next. ‘Weight of the World’ is entirely a Neil Codling construction as with the earlier ‘Digging a Hole’ on the ‘Lazy’ single of 1997, however here he is eschews piano in favour of nylon strung guitar. Ruminating on the idea of his own demise, the song finds Neil in introspective form and perhaps shows a window into how he must have been feeling at the time, his health suffering significantly during the making of the record resulting in a chronic bout of ME of which he would never fully recover. It is sad and beautiful and at the time I wondered whether he would one day make a solo record. To date, he never has. ‘Seascape’ is up next, an ambient instrumental piece at odds with the majority of Suede’s output (indeed I believe this is Suede’s sole instrumental within their canon). Pleasing and dreamy in a subtly Eno-esque way, it lures you into a false sense of security for what would follow. The final song of the ensemble is the shocking and brilliant ‘Crackhead’. Noted by Q at the time for its outlandish appeal, it remains one of the most captivating songs in Suede’s history. Built around a staccato electronic motif, it lurches and grinds in a manner the band never achieved before or since, as a hoarse Anderson vocal tears apart his own addiction to the ice with suitable ice. At the time, Brett was in recovery, however this sounds like an isolated howl from the depths of dependence. It roars and builds to a final shrieking chorus of ‘you can’t give it up’ which says all that really needed to be said.

The final single of the era, ‘Can’t Get Enough’, another candidate for what should have previewed the album in place of ‘Electricity’, limped to number 24 in the charts but boasted perhaps the greatest array of B-sides of all the singles. In archetypal Suede fashion, ‘Let Go’ cut an honest precursor to the musical way forward, which would culminate in the predominantly folky ‘A New Morning’. Three-layered harmonies and melodic acoustic strum back one of Richard Oakes’ finest guitar performances, chiming and chugging riffery that would be revisited on later single ‘Obsessions’. Brett’s lyrics convey an all-pervaying positivity minus the bland triteness of the single of the same name, capping off an irrestible euphoria that would be deemed suitable for release as an A-side in their commercial home from home that was Sweden. It’s a shame that they were unable to replicate the feeling of the song across the subsequent ‘A New Morning’ album, however upon reflection the fault may lie in the fact that said album would be over-produced to the point of clean-cut nothingness by the otherwise accomplished Stephen Street. Next song ‘Since You Went Away’ is folkier still and retains much of the same charm, with Brett lamenting the feeling of loss felt in the aftermath of a realtionship break-up. Again, this is truly lovely stuff and acts as a further blueprint for album number five that would never quite be capitalised on. Heading over to CD2, ‘Situations’ is powered by a synthesised Eastern motif and ponders the ‘lonely minds’ and ‘vacant stares’ typical of Anderson’s lyrics of the time. While slightly over long, it would have worked on ‘Head Music’ had it been the more darker record the band initially promised, and even to these ears sounds somewhat influential on final Suede single (at the time), 2003’s ‘Attitude’. The very final B-side of this era is the brilliant and biting ‘Read My Mind’. As with ‘Crackhead’, it reveals a starker, harsher sound complimented by the blank words defining a phase of depression, most likely revealing the way the writer was feeling at the time. The chorus harmonies add to the relentlessness of the piece and once it’s over, you’re honestly left wanting more.

So these B-sides make up the lost record of 1999 whilst also pointing towards Suede’s final record of their first run. The rockier record that Osman hinted at was surely influenced by the likes of ‘Bored’, ‘Crackhead’ and ‘Read My Mind’, whilst the likes of ‘Let Go’, ‘Leaving’ and ‘Since You Went Away’ were very definitely influences on what eventually did surface. The folklore of early Suede and the B-sides compilation ‘Sci Fi Lullabies’ would lead the casual observer to believe that the band had peaked creatively to the point that post-1997 B-sides would not be worth investigating, however I believe differently and now, thanks to the reissues of ‘Head Music’, these can now be easily accessed for wider reappraisal.

#suede #head music #happy HM anniversary!#head music review

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stonecoldjerseyfox · 3 years

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Jersey on my mind (part 38)

A faint, warm breeze caresses Mila’s face as she and Juri walk along the quiet street, running alongside the newly built wall. A few of the Alexandrian men are working on the final piece, funnily enough nearby the church that caused it to break. It’s been two months since the wall collapsed now, or at least that’s what she thinks. Mila looks at the new construction as she and Juri passes, feeling a sense of calm throughout her soul as her eyes sweep over the repaired structure that has also been expanded; a part of Deanna’s original plan for the community. On the piece of the wall that stood by the invasion, next to the small graveyard, someone has written the name of those who have perished; loved ones, friends, family and those who became family after the outbreak. It’s a nice memorial site, a quiet corner of the community. Since that day, when the walkers poured into Alexandria, everything has gone back to a somewhat normal state.

It’s a hot mid-summer’s day, the sky is blue and the clouds look extra fluffy. Juri points towards them and gestures as if he squeezed an invisible marshmallow between his soft little fingers.

“Yeah they look tasty.” Mila smiles and squints up towards the floating clouds cruising by without a hurry. “What about-” Softly, she pinches Juri’s button nose. “I try to find us some yummy marshmallows for a barbecue when I get back, huh?”

With glittering eyes Juri nods and hugs her tightly; obviously he is positive about the idea.

“Then it’s a date.” Mila chuckles and hugs Juri back, before putting him down on the ground. “Ufh, you are getting heavy. Soon I won’t be able to carry you around.”

With a proud, sunny face Juri stretches, he’s certainly not a little guy anymore; in Mila’s eyes, paradoxically, he’s still her little baby, while she’s also well aware that he’s turning four in a few months. Where the heck did the years between infancy and two go? With a smile, she thinks of Maggie and what adventure awaits her and Glenn in the years to come. At least they have each other, a small consolation when the world is constantly on the brink of doom.

“Since you’re a big boy now, you’re going to teach Maggie’s baby a lot of important things. Like Carl does with you and Judith.” Mila says and takes Juri’s hand. “You think you can do that?”

Juri nods, with eyes that take the task very seriously. He adores Carl like an older brother and being addressed as a big boy, doing ‘Carl-stuff’, is everything he’s ever wanted. Juri gestures with his free hand and makes a finger walk in the air; of course he will teach the new baby to walk. But when he lets go of Mila’s hand, to show that he’s going to teach the baby to tie its shoes, Mila raises her left eyebrow.

“Well, I think we have to practice that one a little bit, Malysh.” Mila says.

Stubbornly, Juri signals that he’s already trying to learn, or rather states, very stubborn, that Daryl should teach him. He’s done it before, Juri gestures with a triumphant grin.

“Really?” Mila smiles. “Sure, I bet he’s good at it. What’s left for me then? I’m just gonna sit by and watch?”

By putting his hands together in front of him and pointing his index fingers straight ahead, Juri gestures a finger-gun. He narrows one eye and pretends to aim and fire. He points at her with a smile, clarifies that she’s best at shooting, therefore she should teach him.

“Spasibo, malysh.” She winks at Juri. “Not quite yet, though. But I promise you, I will.”

Further down the street, both of them catch sight of Daryl and Denise. They part, Denise walks away from them and Daryl turns and starts to walk in their direction. Mila waves at him and Juri starts to run as fast as his short legs possibly can towards their favorite archer. Despite his packing, a backpack and the crossbow, Daryl receives Juri when he reaches him; he lifts him up in the air on straight, strong arms, making Juri’s blonde hair dance around his angelic face. The silent laugh that spreads on his face makes Mila’s heart swell with joy. She had never thought that the surly archer would melt completely because of a, certainly charming, mute toddler; her little ray of sunshine. He even smiles as he lifts Juri into the air. Surely a sight for sore eyes, she thinks as they meet in the middle of the street.

“Ya’ ready?” Daryl greets her as he puts Juri down. “We’re heading out now.”

“All done.” She replies, notices a piece of paper in Daryl’s hand. A shopping list? “That’s a nice little list you got there.” Mila peeks over the edge of the slightly crinkly paper, that looks like it’s been passed around the entire community. “Food, gas, some medicine, more medicine… another medicine-” She frowns her eyebrows. “Orange soda?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs. “Denise wanted to surprise Tara.”

“That’s nice.” Mila nods.

It was decided last night that Tara and Heath would go on a longer supply run. Daryl was asked to follow, but declined. Mila suspected that it was because of her; she’s been a bit under the weather the last couple of days; she’s been tired and just a bit feeble, felt nauseated. Carol was sure it was just her female hormones acting out, which could very well be a possibility. Tracking a period during the apocalypse wasn’t high on her ‘to do’-list, so she brushed it off. Daryl didn’t say anything about the reason for his decision, but Mila guessed that he didn’t feel like leaving her behind, even though she’s neither sick or… well, anything really. Just a bit tired. Instead, it was decided that Daryl and Rick would go on a supply run. Mila offered to come along; Daryl couldn’t possibly stop her from following, so it was settled that she’d tag along.

They walk to the dusty Chrysler sedan together. Rick’s already in place, assuring that his gun is loaded and attached properly to his belt when they arrive.

“Mornin’.” He greets them with a nod; Once a cop, always a cop. The only thing missing is the wide-brimmed hat. “Ready to go?”

Both of them nod and Daryl hands Rick the list of supplies.

“Ya’ see anything you miss?” He asks.

Rick glances through the list quickly.

“We’re outta’ toothpaste.” He states and lifts his eyes to them, waving the note between his fingers. “Keep an eye open for spearmint and baking soda. Michonne’s orders.”

“Got it.” Mila turns to Juri and squats in front of him. “Okay, be nice to Carol and the others, don’t run away.”

With a serious look, Juri reminds her of the promise of marshmallows.

“I’ll remember.” Mila promises and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “There, davay.” She gets up from the ground as Juri turns and runs over to the porch, climbs the stairs and gets into the house to find Carol.

They get in the car, Rick and Daryl in the front seat and Mila in the back seat. She puts her handgun and backpack in the seat next to her and Rick rolls over to the gates, where Eugene’s about to push it open for them. On the other side, pierced on a couple of rebar attached to a broken car, a couple of walkers are trying their best to reach for them with their worn, boney arms, all in vain.

Eugene strutts over to the passenger seat of the car and leans into the open window. The mullet looks more solid than ever as he hands Daryl another note. “I mapped out some of the agricultural supply places in the area.” He says in the heavy Texan accent Mila finds incredibly fascinating. “Even if they’ve been cleaned out, my bet is that the sorghum would be untouched. Now, that there is a criminally underrated grain that could change the game with our food situation from scary to hunky-dunky.”

No one says anything. Mila rests her elbows on the backs of the driver’s and passenger seats and leans in so her head sticks out in between the two men in the front.

”I'm talking standability-” Eugene continues. “Drought tolerance, grain-to-stover ratio that is the envy of all corns.” He pauses. “Think about it.”

”Gosh I could listen to him forever.” Mila says and looks at Rick. “Hunky-dunky.” She repeats in an as good as it gets Texan accent, while meeting Eugene’s eyes.

“All right.”

The car drives out through the gate, Rick accelerates and they leave Alexandria behind.

“I’m having a good feeling ‘bout today.” Rick says cheerful.

“Really?” Mila replies.

“Just-” Rick shrugs. “You know- You just feel it. Today’s the day. We're gonna find food, maybe some people. The law of averages has gotta catch up.”

“We ain’t seen nobody for weeks.” Daryl notes. “Maybe we ain’t gonna find nobody.”

“That’s sunny.” Mila says, strokes his bare arm with her fingertips. “Let’s cheer this bad boy up, sheriff.”

Rick grins and pushes ‘play’ on the stereo. The music starts faintly and Mila recognizes the band as Social Distortion.

”Oh I like this one!” Mila exclaims and starts to sing along.

”Thought ya’ only liked country?” Rick looks at her in the rearview mirror.

”Nuh.” Mila shakes her head. ”I’m full of surprises. Fun fact, I went to a bunch of cool concerts back in Jersey. These guys, Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, Rise Against, Pearl Jam- Lots of rock, punk, country-” Mila continues to sing along when the chorus starts. ”I made out with the Social Distortion singer, Mike Ness, after a concert. Or at least I think it was him.”

”Think?” Daryl sputters and turns to look at her.

”I was eighteen!” Mila shrugs easily. “And drunk beyond judgement.” She confesses. ”He was- old, kinda’ handsome. Smelled quite nice, except the sweat. When I think about it, it could just as well be any middle aged guy with tattoos and tons of hair wax working backstage. I will never know for sure. But I’d like to believe it was the singer. Makes the story more interesting.”

Rick laughs.

“Concerts are wild.” He agrees while tapping the steering wheel. “I took Lori to see Tim McGraw once, before Carl was born. Cheap fried hot wings, beer in red plastic cups, great music; great night.”

“Is he the-” Mila starts to hum while drumming on the thighs. “Hu-huuu- I like it, I love it-”

“-I want some more of it-” Rick tunes in and snaps his finger to her beat. “I try so hard, I can't rise above it. I don't know what it is 'bout that little gal's lovin’-”

“Christ sake-” Daryl sighs and slides further down the passenger seat.

“Here-” Rick hands Mila the worn plastic case of cd’s from the door pocket. “Find something good.”

“Yes, captain.” Mila unzips the case and starts to flip the plastic pages, filled with scratched cd’s, before finding something that looks promising. “Here-”

“Please, don’t-” Daryl pleads.

Too late. She leans into the front seat and pushes the cd into the radio.

“Crank it up!”

Rick turns the volume wheel up to fourteen and both he and Mila happily exclaims “yeeeah” when the intro to “Life is a highway” blasts out of the cheap stereo.

“Ya’ both crazy!” Daryl cries, in an attempt to drown out the radio.

“Draws ‘em away from home!” Rick calls before tuning into the catchy chorus with Mila.

Rick knows the lyrics even better than she does; she still stumbles on the fast lines combined with her not pitch perfect english.

After driving for awhile, while continuing their exceptional singalong, Daryl manages to override the music:

”Look-” Daryl points out of the window and Rick hits the brakes in a matter of seconds. ”Back up.”

While Mila stretches forward and turns down the volume, Rick puts in reverse gear and drives the car back to the intersection. About a hundred meter to their right lies a couple of buildings. A silo, a shed and a barn, with ’sorghum’ written all over the dirty white roof. Rick turns the wheel, hits the gas and drives in the direction of the barn. He drives up on the dirt road and parks in front of the red building. It looks untouched, as if no one else knew about the great power of the sorghum. They step out of the car and look around. It’s quiet, no walkers.

“Let’s check it out.” Rick looks around the corner.

”Best to be safe.” Daryl says and walks over to the storage roll up door. He checks the handle, nods as to tell that it’s unlocked. ”Ya’ cover?” He looks up at her and Rick.

”Yup.” Rick returns, hand on his gun.

While the two men get ready for combat, Mila throws a glance out over the fields surrounding the barn; keeping an eye open for potential enemies. The door goes up with a loud noise and Rick bursts into the barn. Mila’s eyes land on the back of a truck.

“No sorghum?” Mila says.

”Doesn’t look like it.” Rick turns to her and Daryl. “We’re good.” He states and points at the truck. ”One more time?”

”It ain’t locked.” Daryl puts his hand on the handle and thugs at the box truck roll up door that rolls up with a rattle.

”Wohaa!” Mila exclaims.

The truck is filled with supplies; food, blankets, towels, everything really. It must be their lucky day.

”How ’bout that?” Daryl says. “Looks like we’re done for today.”

”Let’s get this thing going, grab our gear and come back for the car later. Take another way back and see what we can see.” Rick states. “We still need to find more things.”

”I’ll go start it up-” Mila says. ”If it starts.”

”I think it does.”

”Also one of your optimistic predictions?” She smirks at Rick, turns and walks over to the drivers side and opens the door. ”Hah, they where dumb enough to leave the keys.”

Daryl unloads the most necessary things from the car, Rick locks it with a ‘beep’ on the key and they get inside the truck; Mila makes herself comfortable between her two companions and they backs out of the barn and hits the road. They head in the direction Rick drove before Daryl asked him to stop. The road is lined by green, lush forest. The sun has settled behind some clouds, but it’s still warm, a sticky moist heat that doesn’t really make Mila’s tiredness any better. She’s already drinked a whole bottle of water by herself and starts to feel her jeans push at her bladder. In the distance, she sees what looks like a very run-down gas station.

“Should we check it out?” Daryl looks at Rick, who nods. “Might be some gas left.”

“Let’s find out.”

Rick parks at the first pump and they get out of the truck. The gas station is a mess; debris everywhere, an abandoned jeep is parked outside and the black color of the roof has begun to flake and exposes the gray metal underneath. The store looks equally miserable. She strolls up to the doors and peeks through the dirty glass, but sees nothing else than darkness. On her right Daryl’s checking out a tipped-over vending machine, filled with soda and candy. Someone must’ve given up halfway through their attempt to move it, Mila thinks.

“Give me a hand with this.” Daryl says.

Rick, looking around the desolated place, turns on the spot and walks over to help. Besides her urge to pee, Mila’s struck by a slight sensation through her head, like nausea, just as she has been doing on and off the last two days. Heck, not now.

“I just gotta- you know.” She makes a whistling sound, to signal that she needs to find a toilet, or just walk behind the corner of the gas station to pee, or vomit - right now she cannot decide which of them she needs the most.

“We’ll get this.” Daryl nods towards the vending machine.

Mila turns and walks towards the door of the gas station. She thugs at it, then pushes it open with force. It’s barricaded with a shelf and she creates a passage wide enough for her to get through and walks inside the dark store, gun raised in front of her. She lets her gaze get used to the dark, then sweeps over the empty, chaotic store before she walks towards the back of it, towards the door with ‘staff only’, hanging on just one hinge. The back of the shop, a room that looks like something between an office and a storage, with walls clad in brown wooden panels, is also empty. She quickly finds the ‘staff only’-toilet that doesn’t look far too disgusting to sit down on. She closes the door halfway, to prevent herself from being in total darkness. While unzipping her jeans she curses herself for not bringing a flashlight. As she sits down, she promises herself to wash her whole body with steel wool as soon as they are back in Alexandria; the toilet stinks of urine and It must be a pure bacteria party in the small space. She closes her eyes, feels how the nausea calms down a bit, focuses to breath through her mouth to close out the acrid smell. She takes another breath and feels her bladder relax, happy to release the huge amount of water she drank.

Despite the disgusting toilet, it feels better to go to the toilet inside than outside. Mila reluctantly remembers the time she had to pee in the woods, and a walker snuck up behind her. With her trousers around her ankles, Mila had to ward off the armless, dead man. It wasn’t her proudest moment for sure.

Loud voices and thumps make her wake up from her thoughts. Mila almost falls on her nose getting up from the toilet seat with her jeans around her ankles. Swearing over the fact that she might have to repeat her unworthy pants incident, she makes her way out from the bathroom, thuggin’ on her panties and jeans to get them over her ass, to see what’s going on outside. Is there an ambush? She loses balance, while trying to zip her pants, when she makes her way out in between the gap in the door and drops to the pavement. While brushing her hair out of her face, Mila catches sight of Daryl and Rick standing out in the street. The truck is gone.

“What the heck?!” She cries and gets up from the ground, fiddling with the zipper. “Where’s the truck?”

“Gone.” Rick hollers back at her.

Mila lets go of the zipper again -whatever if she shows off her undies at this point- and holds out her arms, to show that she noticed that very well on her own.

“I was gone for like, five minutes, and now you lost the truck?”

“He took it-” Rick continues.

“He who?”

“Some goddamn’ hippie.” Daryl scoffs angrily. “Crashed into Rick and then drove off with the truck, swiped the keys.”

“Wha- just like that?” Mila says, more confused than ever. What the hell happened?

“We talked to him.”

“Okay… and?”

“Told us his name- called himself Jesus.”

“Yeah I’m sure that’s his name.” Mila laughs dryly; right, Jesus Christ would surely show up in the middle of nowhere and steal a truck filled with toothpaste, food and other supplies. “Jesus don’t steal trucks.” She says. “Jesus isn’t even real! And how on earth did he overpower both of you?”

The two men in front of her transform into two ashamed puppies, that’s been caught peeing on the carpet, in the matter of seconds. Mila suspects that they weren’t overpowered but tricked; muscles and guns are no use for cunning, and she knows a lot about the latter.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Mila sighs, squats and ties her boots with an extra secure double knot. “Lets go.”

“What?” Daryl looks at her.

“We gotta follow the truck.” She replies and thanks her lucky star for not having eaten anything heavy earlier this morning. “I won’t let someone who believes himself to be Jesus just steal our truck. I went to church back in Russia when I was a child; stealing is a sin, which makes this Jesus a hypocrite. Come on.”

Mila starts to run. Had she known she would have to chase after a truck, she would have taken a pair of running shoes. They pass the vending machine after a few hundred meters, discarded in the middle of the road. Mila brakes and takes a deep breath, wiping sweat from her forehead. The sticky heat is killing her and the three of them drip with sweat. Rick’s shirt is several shades darker and Daryl looks almost freshly showered. Next to her, Rick doubles down and rests his hands on his knees, still hugging the gun.

“How far do you think he’d come?” She pants.

“Dunno.” Daryl takes a crowbar from his backpack, shatters the display case of the vending machine and starts to stuff orange sodas and some snacks into his bag. He reaches Mila a can. “Here, drink.”

She smiles, as to say ‘thank you’ and opens the can. The soda is somewhere between lukewarm and warm, but it’s better than nothing. She finishes the can quickly and wipes her mouth on the back of her arm.

“Isn’t this the soda Denise wanted?” She asks.

“Uhu.” Daryl nods. “Special request.”

He takes one of the cans, punctures a hole in its side and pours the lukewarm orange drink into his mouth. Very classy.

“Hey, whatever she wants. She saved Carl's life.” Rick replies and receives the can from Daryl. “If there's still people out here, and they're still people, we should bring 'em in.”

“Still feelin’ positive, huh?” Daryl asks his friend. “Takin’ em in? Like this guy, stealing our truck?”

“No, not this guy.”

Daryl turns and looks at her, the gaze wanders from top to bottom.

“Ya’ good to go?” The look is caring, protective. As if he was trying to say 'sorry ‘bout the bumpy ride'.

Mila nods, feels a drop of sweat run down her lip, into her mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.” She replies and collects her long, sweaty hair on the back of her head, ties it up with a hair tie. “I’ve ran marathons, remember.”

They set off again at a slightly faster pace, strengthened by the soda. Mila breathes calmly as she sprints over the concrete, counts her breaths as she used to do when she was an avid runner and used to go out for a long run for fun. The circumstances are a bit different from back then; no running shoes or comfortable running clothes in bright colors, no iPod filled with upbeat music and no fitness clock tracking her pulse and her route. The boots are actually horrible to run in, the same goes for jeans, t-shirt and denim shirt, plus a backpack and weapons.

They follow the tire tracks until they reach a crest, where Daryl signals for them to stop. Carefully they ascend the hill until they can peek over the edge. In the hill down on the other side they see the truck, standing still. It has a puncture and Mila immediately sees a long-haired man with a beard, dressed in a long coat and a beanie, which in itself is pure madness. She’s dripping with sweat and would never in her life put on a long coat or hat now.

“That’s him?” She asks faintly.

“That’s him.” Rick nods at them to follow him into the woods to the left.

They carefully make their way over the fallen leaves between the trees, without losing sight of the truck. The man walks around to the back of the car and they see their chance. They quickly get out of the woods, Rick takes the lead and throws himself forward, wraps his arms around the man from behind.

“Hold still and maybe we won’t hurt you.”

If Rick thought it would help, he was completely wrong. The man sends off an elbow into Rick’s stomach and is suddenly free again. He makes a move, kicks Rick in the guts and gets him down on the ground. It's obvious that the guy is a bit sharper than the rest of the knives in the drawer; Mila climbs out of the ditch just as the man is about to set off towards the driver’s door, but is stopped by Daryl. While the men fight with each other, Mila manages to get up on the road just as the bearded man slips out of Daryl’s arms, pushes him into the side of the truck, turns around and loses track completely at the sight of Mila, who -tired of running and still a little nauseous- has pulled out her gun and aims it at him.

“Surprise!”

The brief moment is enough for Daryl to get back on his feet. He sees his chance when the man turns and notices Mila and tackles him from behind, down into the ditch. At gunpoint, they finally have the upper hand.

“Thanks.” Daryl pants and looks at Mila.

“The power of surprise.” She shrugs and looks down at the man.

He’s about thirty, long brown hair, beard. Yes, she sees the resemblance to Jesus; every time she sat in church and counted the icons portraying him when she was little. The serious man with sloping shoulders, blue dress, beard and well-groomed hair. The difference is that the Jesus in the icons didn’t have a knitted beanie and a leather coat.

The foliage behind the man in the grass rustles. A walker then announces its presence, by a guttural hissing sound.

“Do you even have any ammo?” Jesus looks at them.

Without answering, Mila raises her gun at the walker and shoots.

“Okay.” Jesus nods, still with his hands raised in front of him. “You gonna shoot me over a truck?”

“There's a lot of food on that truck.” Rick says. “The keys - now.”

“I think you know I'm not a bad guy.”

Once again, Mila suddenly feels that unpleasant, nauseating feeling, but this time it spreads from her head down to her stomach. She turns around, hurries away a few meters, bends forward and vomits into the ditch. ‘Is she okay?’ she hears Jesus' question, while she spits and feels how she shivers all over her body; fuck, she hates to vomit. But it actually feels better.

“Ey-” She hears Daryl scoff at the poor guy. “Eyes here, dude! The keys!”

“I’m fine.” Mila hollers and waves her arm at them, still folded like a pocket knife.

“You sure?” Jesus calls back.

“Oh shut up!” She shouts. “It’s because of you I’m throwing up.”

“Sorry.”

“Just-” Mila straightens her back. She feels less nauseated, a bit weak but otherwise much better. “Give us the keys.”

For some reason, Mila can’t figure out why, Jesus throws her the keys. It might be out of pity, or the fact that her two comrades are holding him at gunpoint; she nods at him, as a way to say thanks.

While Rick ties Jesus up, Daryl hurries over to her.

“Ya’ okay?” His eyes are worried. “Ya’ sick?”

“No I’m fine.” Mila nods averted. “Probably just too much running and too little breakfast. I’m good now.” She smiles. “Just, don’t kiss me until we’re back and I’ve brushed my teeths, okay?”

He doesn’t look completely convinced, but he grunts a little, caresses her cheek and places a kiss on her forehead instead.

“There’s toothpaste in the back of the truck.” He says, before returning to Rick and Jesus.

Mila gets into the truck, sits down in the middle seat and closes her eyes; maybe she should try to find one of those toothpastes, she has a foul taste in her mouth. She looks around the cab and finds a pack of spearmint gum. As she pushes a third gum into her mouth, Daryl and Rick jump on either side of her.

“Where is Jesus?” She asks.

“On the street.”

“What? We can’t just leave him?”

“Of course we can.” Rick replies, turns the key and starts the car.

“So long, you prick.” Daryl shouts out of the window as they drive off.

Mila chuckles dryish; She has an underlying sense that something is going to happen. Karma. She takes out the case of cd’s from her backpack, picks the “best of sixties” album and pushes the cd into the stereo. The sound of Connie Francis “Tennessee waltz” crackles out of the speakers and Daryl hands out snacks from the vending machine.

“Still worked out. Today still is the day.” Rick recalls while snacking on a chocolate-peanut bar. He then points in front of him. “Hey, look at that.”

The truck drives out of the forest, and Mila sees both fields and buildings.

“Yeah, a barn.“ Daryl says.

As Rick turns off in the direction of the barn, something makes them all fall silent and listen; thumps, like something hitting the truck box, is heard even over the loud music.

“What’s that?” Mila exclaims. “You hear that?”

It’s inevitable what the noise is; footsteps.

“I think that son of a bitch is on the roof.” Daryl says.

All three of them react at the same time; Rick stands on the brake pedal, the car stops with a howl and Jesus falls down in front of the windshield and tumbles to the ground. Daryl, swearing loudly, throws himself out of the car to follow him and Mila follows Daryl. She has no idea why, but her gut feeling tells her that Daryl won’t be gentle on him. It also tells her that Jesus probably isn’t dangerous at all, which isn’t in his favor if Daryl, who’s all muscles and pretty bad impulse control, gets a hold of him.

“Daryl-” She calls. “No- Stop!”

“I’ve had enough of ya’!” Daryl shouts at Jesus, not hearing Mila.

This must look ever so stupid, Mila thinks as she sprints after Daryl and the hippy-dippy guy into the dry green field; like one of those silent films, except that the soundtrack in this case happens to be Helen Shapiro’s “Walking back to happiness” playing from the car. Mila running after Daryl, running after this odd long-haired man who seems to believe he’s Jesus. Why in the world would he otherwise call himself that?

”No- no, stop it!” Mila shouts, as if she was scolding at a bad dog.

She stumbles and falls flat on her stomach, while Jesus reaches the now stationary truck and throws himself into the driver’s seat. Daryl follows.

“Come here, you little shit!” He barks and starts to drag Jesus out of the car.

At the same time a walker has snuck up behind Daryl. Mila gets up on her knees, gropes for her gun, but before she has managed to raise it to shoot, she hears Jesus call out ‘duck’; Daryl ducks just in time. A gun finds its way into the walker's skull and it falls back like a bowling pin.

“Thanks.” Daryl pants, then sends off a punch into Jesus face. “That's my gun! Come here!”

He throws Jesus out of the truck, onto the grass. He doesn’t remain there for long; instead, he lays hooks for Daryl, who stumbles, giving Jesus time to get up on his feet and set off again.

“Son of a-” Daryl roars and runs after.

“Fuck- knock it out!” Mila shouts and increases her speed, minimizing the distance between herself and her, frankly pissed off, other half. Before Daryl’s able to take another leap in his hunt for the handcuffed, longhaired karate kid, she tackles him to the ground with a thud. ”Stop this!” Mila climbs up on top of him, to prevent Daryl from getting up from the grass. ”This is stupid!”

”Christ- knock it out ya’!”

Crap, she doesn’t have time to argue. Mila climbs over Daryl and sets after Jesus, who has slowed down to watch the wrestling match played out in the grass behind him. A surprised expression spreads on his bearded face as he sees her approaching, faster than he imagined. Jesus turns and starts to run again, but he doesn’t get up to speed fast enough. Mila lunges for him and they tumbles to the ground in a bundle of arms and legs, and she starts to wrestle him. He doesn’t fight her, but he tries with all his power to get loose from her grip. Mila gets a sharp elbow in the eye and a cracked lip before hobo-Jesus is ripped away from her by Daryl, who looks like he’s boiling.

“Ey, that’s ma’ girl, ya’ scumbag!”

“Wohaa, jeez.” The long haired, ravaged man, flies like a raggedy Anne-doll through the air.

Mila gets up from the ground, covered in dry grass and wipes blood from her mouth on the back of her hand. Her eye pounds and already feel swollen, a certain recipe for an upcoming, gorgeous black eye. Daryl pants loudly through his nostrils while holding on to the ravaged man’s coat, the poor guy can barely stand up straight.

“I had him.” Mila glares at Daryl and spits blood on the ground in front of her feet.

“I’d had him if ya’ didn’t tackle me.” Daryl scoffs back, still holding on to Jesus' collar.

“You’d kill that poor man if you’d catched him.” Mila replies, pointing at Jesus. “You’re not exactly sensible when you’re angry.”

“Oh yeah right, you’re the one to talk!” Daryl scoffs back. “What about that guy’s kneecaps-”

“I had every right-” Mila cries. “He sliced my guts with a fucking machete!”

”You two are related of some sort?” Jesus doubtfully breaks in.

”Married!”

“What?” Daryl sputters, looking both terrified and shocked at her sudden, out of the blue exclamation.

“Feels like it!” Mila replies and spits more blood; they’re arguing like they were married at least. “Pridurok...” She mutters, eyes locked at Daryl.

”Oh-” Jesus pants and looks just as confused as Daryl does, plus a bit tufted. “Right-”

“Shut up.”

Pow! Jesus falls to the ground. Mila rolls her eyes; why does he have to punch everyone? She snorts and turns, stepping through the tall grass in the direction of the car. Damn hypocrisy, she thinks to herself. She passes Rick, who walks in the opposite direction out in the tall grassy field, holding his bloody knife, but ignores him. She’s frankly grumpy and her eye hurts. But she halts when she doesn’t spot the truck.

“Where the fuck is the truck!?”

She looks around. It’s nowhere to be seen. As she lets her gaze sweep over the field she catches sight of something behind some trees, in the small pond.

“Shit.” Rick comes up at her side, eyes locked at the truck that’s sinking further down the pond. “He must’ve knocked it into neutral.”

“Now what?”

They both turn and start walking back towards Daryl and the man in the grass.

“Are you alright?” Rick looks at Daryl. “Let's go check them cars, get the hell out of here.”

“What about the guy?” Mila points at Jesus.

“What about him?” Daryl asks.

“Well, he was actually nice, saved you.” She replies.

“Hm.”

“Did he ever pull a weapon on you?” Rick asks.

“Fine.” Daryl sputters. “Fuck- fine. Let’s put him up a tree.”

“No. He’ll come back with us.” Mila corrects, giving Daryl a sharp gaze. “Enough of that grumpy attitude.” She nods at Jesus. “Come on, let’s find a car. Drag him with you.”

They find a working car about fifteen minutes later. Daryl throws Jesus into the backseat. Mila takes the wheel, Daryl calls shotgun and Rick takes place next to Jesus, who’s still knocked out and they start driving back to Alexandria.

“He took a pretty hard hit.” Rick says and meets Mila’s gaze in the mirror, then looks at Jesus. “Denise needs to look him over.”

“Try to wake him.” Mila suggests. “See if he’s got permanent brain damages.”

Rick shakes the man, who grunts and starts moving. He blinks and jumps.

“You’re alive.” Rick says. “Good.”

“Yeah-” Jesus grunts again. “Why am I in a car? I heard something about a tree.”

“It was a joke.” Mila says, meeting his drowsy eyes in the mirror.

“It wasn’t.” Daryl looks at her.

“You wouldn’t have gone through with it.” Mila gives him a sharp gaze. “You wouldn’t have left him.”

“I would’ve-” Daryl nods upwards. “Right up in a tree.”

“He’s a comedian.” Mila says, once again looking at Jesus in the mirror, not taking notice of Daryl’s irritated expression. “Or at least tries to be.”

”Where have you been all my life?” Jesus chuckles and looks at her in the mirror and sends off a radiant smile that tells Mila that he’s using mouthwash on a daily basis.

”Ey- knock it out!” Daryl reaches back and slaps the man on his tied up hands.

Mila lets out a faint laugh. Huh, look at that; a jealous Daryl Dixon. Jeez Louise, there’s nothing to worry about, Mila thinks to herself, but Daryl’s poor self-confidence doesn’t make it easy for him. She pats her jealous, southern knight on the back of the hand.

”He looks like a hippy dippy orthodox priest.” Mila gives the surly, blushing archer a soft gaze. “Calm down, Dixon.” She turns to the rear view mirror and the hippy dippy man in the backseat. If papa was here, he wouldn’t have let him inside the car. Not in a million years. “No offense, but you do.” She says to Jesus.

”None taken.” He nods at her with a curious gaze. “What’s up with the accent?”

”Up and running, thanks for noticing.”

While steering the car with her knees, Mila once again takes out the case of cd’s, now missing the one with sixties-music, takes out a random cd and puts it in the stereo. She adjusts the volume-wheel on the radio and increases the sound of “The Chain” and starts to tap the wheel while singing along.

“You’re a really good singer.” The man in the back calls after a while.

“Thanks.” Mila replies backwards. “I’m a dental nurse.”

“Did you sing to the patients?”

“To the kids, sometimes. Some terrified men before they, you know-” She closes her eyes and pretends to snore. “Put them down.”

“I’m sure that’s not what it’s called.” Rick replies.

“I made them sleep.” Mila shrugs her shoulders. “Right?”

“Not what it sounded like.” Daryl says and meets her eyes, with a slightly amused expression on his stern face.

“Anyway I think it sounded beautiful.” Jesus says.

”I like this guy!” Mila looks at him and Rick with an excited smile upon her face, nodding her head to the beat of the music. ”Can we keep him?”

“He ain’t a dog.”

“But he’s quite fun!”

”You see.” Jesus says triumphantly. “She likes me.”

That’s it for Daryl. He turns and once again starts to try and hit the guy. Mila hits the brakes and the car stops with such force that Jesus is thrown into the headrest of the passenger seat, and dozes off.

“Knock it off!” Mila roars. “Or I won’t drive an inch further.”

The angry mom-voice isn’t only effective on children, it works really well on adult men as well. Daryl mutters and returns to his seat. Mila steps on the gas pedal again and continues to drive. Outside, it eventually starts to get dark. The sky is clear and the stars look brighter than ever. When she brakes at the gate to Alexandria, it’s pitch black. Daryl gets out, opens the gate and she drives into the community; a sensation of calm spreads throughout her body. That’s when she remembers.

“Shit.”

“What?” Rick asks.

“Forgot to get marshmallows.”

When the gate’s closed and locked, Daryl gets into the car again and Mila drives up to the infirmary, parks and the engine dies. The three of them get out of the car and stretch. What a fucking day, Mila thinks to herself, while watching Rick and Daryl dragging the still unconscious Jesus out of the backseat. They carry him up the stairs to the infirmary, knock on the door and wait. Denise opens in a few seconds.

“Sorry to wake you up.” Rick excuses himself before Denise can say something.

From her spot at the car, Mila notices Denise’s confused expression as she notices the lifeless man.

“Who is this?!”

“Come on, man, he's heavy.” Daryl says to Rick. “Oh, that thing-” He looks at Denise. “Uh, didn't work out. It's this asshole's fault. Sorry.”

While they bring Jesus inside, Mila leans up against the hot hood and looks at the stars. Juri has probably been asleep for a while now. She doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s late. Rick and Daryl walk out of the infirmary just as she catches sight of the pole star.

“He’s taken care of.” Daryl says as he walks up to her. He examines her in detail in the faint glow of the infirmary. “Let’s patch ya’ up.”

Mila doesn’t struggle. She’s tired and hungry. They go back into the infirmary and she sits down on one of the beds with clean, white sheets and exhales. There’s a mirror in the corner of the room. When Mila sees her reflection, she sighs even deeper; she has a pretty neat blackeye and a cracked lip. Daryl sits down on the stool in front of her.

“A hell of a blackeye-” He squints at the look of her pulsating, sore eye. “Ya’ really took a few punches.” He takes the bottle with alcohol and a wipe and pours some onto it. “Like Rocky Balboa.”

“Yeah, but I won.” Mila replies.

“Just like Rocky.” Daryl replies. “Still though- hell of a fight.”

“Better me than you I guess.” Mila swears as Daryl, as gently as he can, wipes her cracked lip with the drenched wipe. “You’d kill him.”

Mila nods over Daryl’s shoulder, towards the knocked out man lying on the narrow hospital bed, handcuffed to the bed frame. Daryl turns, looks at Jesus, then scoffs.

“I’ll kill him if he ever puts his hands on ya’ again.” Daryl mutters and throws the wipe over the room, into the trash bin.

“Don’t have to, I’ll do it myself.” Mila smiles, but grimaces; it hurts to smile. “I know.” Daryl replies. “Sorry ‘bout earlier. For yellin’ at ya’.”

“You gotta work on that temper.” Mila states. “It ain’t good for the blood pressure.”

With a grunt, as much of an answer as anything, Daryl puts his hand at the back of her head, brings it to his lips and kisses her on the forehead.

“Ain’t gonna need to stitch ya’ up.” He says. “Come on, let’s get ya’ to bed, Rocky.”

“Yes, Adrien.” Mila grins wryly. “What about Jesus Christ Superstar?” She nods towards the other bed.

“Yeah we’ll deal with him later.”

“You gonna tuck me in first?” Mila asks. “I’d love that, but honestly, I need a quick shower before bed. I think I might have caught every possible STD there is from that disgusting toilet at the gas station.”

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