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phantom-curve · 3 years

Note

44 for willex and au of your choice! If you’re still taking prompts

Oop this prompt invaded my brain and ran off into the sunset. I definitely didn’t mean for it to get as long as it did, but here we are! From the gimme a chance AU, I give you 3 times Willie sat on Alex’s lap +1 time Alex sat on Willie’s (these span the time between all the other one-shots I wrote for Willex in this universe!)

#44: sitting on the other’s lap (Rated a heavy T for some adult themes and language. Also available on ao3!)

Willie hardly ever thought about it anymore. When they were out in public, when they were at the studio with Luke and Reggie for band practice, when they were just hanging around one of their apartments, he never really thought about them in terms of dating. He kind of more thought about them in terms of forever. Not that he was rushing anything, but more that there was a kind of aura around Alex, a kind of energy, that had a way of sinking into Willie’s very bones and saying hey, I’m gonna stick around for the rest of your life that made him think in terms of absolutes. Alex was an absolute. Willie was totally a-okay with that.

The thing that bothered him though, was the fact that Alex didn’t seem to get it.

He still waited for Willie to offer his hand to hold. He didn’t kiss him unless Willie made it painfully obvious that he was okay with that. He hadn’t even managed to get him to spend the night yet because Alex always came up with a reason to go home before Willie could even try to extend the invitation.

And it wasn’t that Alex wasn’t into him. He was. He so totally was. Willie knew that. But it was like he was afraid to own up to it. Which Willie could kind of understand. They had talked about their families and while Willie was lucky to be fully accepted for who he was at home, Alex’s parents were a different story.

They weren’t outright cruel, they had still provided the necessities in the form of food, water, and shelter while Alex had been living at home, but they didn’t love any more. They didn’t talk, they didn’t help, they just ghosted along as if they had never been a part of Alex’s life in the first place. It seemed worse than outright hatred, but Alex claimed it was better than nothing. After all, it had meant that they didn’t ask where he had been or where he was going or when he would be home, which had kinda been a dream as a high schooler. Other kids had wished they had that kind of freedom, Alex told him. Not worth complaining about. It had basically been like having roommates, which was great practice for when he moved out and actually had roommates, Alex said, and Willie pretended all of that was normal because he could tell Alex wanted it to be. They didn’t talk about how now that Alex was living on his own his parents had completely dropped all communication with him. Willie just made a note of it and decided he would make up for all that affection Alex had been missing out on.

So, Willie carried on the way he was used to when it came to being interested in someone and in a relationship with them. He complimented Alex, gave him cute little nicknames, and generally tried to see how often he could manage to make the other boy blush. One of the most successful tactics he had found was sitting in Alex’s lap, especially when he least expected it.

Like right now, in the middle of a Sunset Curve practice.

Luke had been getting frustrated with part of the melody of a new song or something, and Reggie had finally told him to just jam it out until he found the notes he was looking for, and Alex had paused his drumming, tucking his sticks into one hand, and reaching down with the other to grab the large water bottle he kept at his feet when he played. He watched the way the light caught on Alex’s hair as he flicked it off his face, turning the blonde strands into spun gold. Found himself mesmerized by the lines of Alex’s jaw and neck as he tipped his head back to rehydrate. His feet moved on their own, pulling him over to his boyfriend’s side like Alex was a magnet and Willie was made of metal.

Alex quirked a brow at him as he lowered the water bottle, but Willie didn’t say anything. Just grinned and plopped himself down right on Alex’s lap, even though he knew the stool was only meant to hold one person’s weight and Alex had grumbled more than once over Luke and Reggie messing with it. Alex didn’t grumble at him though. Especially not when he looped his arms around the other boy’s neck and leaned forward to place a kiss against his temple. Alex’s cheeks blushed Willie’s favorite shade of pink, the one that almost matched the hoodie he always wore.

“You looked a little lonely over here. Thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi.”

Alex’s lips parted as he breathed out the word, his eyes softening the way they did every time Willie looked into them for a beat too long. Willie felt his smile widen. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of sweaty band boys and fresh linen and Alex’s honey vanilla shampoo. Alex started to slip his own arms around Willie’s waist, his head tilted up as his gaze fell to his lips. And then an extra loud guitar chord rang out through the amps and Alex jumped, nearly dumping Willie on the ground.

“Alright, lovebirds, enough! I figured out what was wrong with the chord progression. I just gotta switch it from a G chord to a...”

Willie tuned out, never fully able to follow along when Luke got going on a musical tangent. Instead, he pressed one quick kiss to Alex’s lips and stood, slipping out from behind the kit to return to his original position on the couch set up across from where the boys stood to play. Alex watched him with a soft smile and starry eyes before giving his head a quick shake and refocusing on Luke, cheeks still tinged that pale pink that made Willie’s heart soar. Willie tucked the memory away with all his other favorite Alex moments and watched the band get back to it, head bobbing along as he watched his boyfriend shine. And if he made sure to keep his gaze firmly focused on Alex, winking every now and then just so he could see that blush creep back in, well no one else had to know about that but him.

Surprisingly, the hardest part of dating a guy like Alex, a guy who was beautiful and effortlessly sexy and regularly doing something that gave literally anybody a free pass to ogle him for as long as his band was up on stage, was the fact that his boyfriend seemed to have no fucking clue just how attractive he was. And he was also shockingly bad at knowing when someone was hitting on him. Willie was pretty sure if he hadn’t asked Alex on a date after running him over, the guy would have never made a move. And that was afterWillie spent 20 minutes openly flirting with him and dropping ten-ton hints as he helped him clean up and bandage his wounds. It was simultaneously adorable and exhausting, because it meant that sometimes Willie had to watch people chat up his boyfriend while Alex awkwardly bumbled his way through what he assumed was a friendly conversation.

Willie, as a rule, did not get jealous. Jealousy was for people who had trust issues, and Willie trusted Alex more than he had ever trusted a single other person before. So, he wasn’t jealous, per se, as he made his way through the crowd, eyes locked on the back of the guy casually leaning over where Alex was sitting alone in a booth against the wall. He was actually a bit concerned because Alex looked uncomfortable, and he hadn’t thought to tell him that he was gonna make it to the show tonight, which had seemed like a romantic idea at the time but obviously wasn’t because Alex was drumming one of his hands against his thighs and tapping his fingers against the back of his phone on the table in front of him with the other.

He was probably waiting for Willie to call him, because that was something Willie had been doing now that he had gone pro and started traveling for competitions on the weekend instead of showing up at Ebbie’s to cheer on the band from the front row. He had been a little late to snag a front row spot this weekend, barely making it for the last couple of songs in the set. But he had made it, because the competition had ended up getting rained out and Willie had braved the hours of Saturday evening traffic back to LA so that he could see his boyfriend in person instead of through a phone screen.

His boyfriend who was now being hit on by a complete stranger in a crowded bar where Luke and Reggie were nowhere to be found. Willie frowned slightly as he watched Alex draw back into the booth a bit more, both hands picking up speed as they continued to mindlessly tap out a rhythm. No, Willie wasn’t jealous. He was mad that this dude wasn’t picking up on Alex’s cues and backing off. So, now that he was only a few steps away, he skipped forward and made his presence known.

“Hey Hotdog, you looked pretty good up there tonight.”

Alex’s face lit up like the 4th of July, his green gaze skipping past the guy invading his space and latching onto Willie like he was seeing the sun for the first time. Willie felt his lips curve into a soft smile. The unknown guy straightened a bit, eyes skipping back and forth between Alex and Willie, brow furrowed. Willie didn’t have the capacity to help the dude connect the dots, because all he could focus on was Alex and how fast his expression had changed upon hearing Willie’s voice.

“Willie.”

Alex’s tone was quiet and awed, like he had conjured Willie up out of thin air. His hands stilled, and Willie couldn’t resist anymore. He slipped past the stranger who was finally starting to back up and step away, hands raised slightly as if to say sorry, bro, didn’t know you had a boyfriend, and wormed his way into the booth, settling himself on Alex’s lap. Alex leaned forward, his head falling to rest in the crook of Willie’s neck, breath stuttering out and sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin.

“I didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

“Comp got cancelled. And I missed you.”

Willie dropped a kiss on the top of Alex’s blonde head, breathing in the distinct honey-vanilla-laundry scent that always got a bit more intense after a show. Alex’s cheeks warmed, Willie delighting in the fact that he could actually feel the blush against his own skin, and his lips moved against the hollow of Willie’s throat.

“I always miss you.”

The words were tempered with gentle kisses and Willie thought he might melt into the floor right there on the spot. He didn’t censor his next words, let the longing bleed through so Alex understood just how badly he wanted to be with him.

“Come home with me tonight then. I think six months of dating is long enough to move into sleepover territory.”

Alex’s arms squeezed around his waist for a brief second, Willie biting his tongue as he listened to Alex’s breath hitch and then pick up a bit faster than before. He pulled his head out of Willie’s neck, mouth open to answer, when the other two-thirds of Sunset Curve suddenly arrived at the table in their typical whirlwind fashion. They called out happy greetings as they clocked Willie’s arrival, slipping into the other side of the booth. Willie smiled and tried to focus on what they were saying so he could beat back the disappointment of not getting an answer. He only startled slightly when Alex’s lips were suddenly at his ear.

“Six months of dating is definitely long enough. Take me home, pretty boy.”

And Willie felt his own cheeks heat, prayed that Luke and Reggie wouldn’t spot the change in the low light as he settled himself further into Alex’s embrace. He kept himself occupied with linking his fingers through Alex’s where they still wrapped around his waist and tried not to think too much about finally getting to sleep next to the guy he was falling more in love with every day as he counted down the minutes to bar close.

He wasn’t even surprised when he woke up in the morning and realized a feeling of homecoming had settled fully and deeply into his heart and soul. At some point in the last six months home and Alex had become synonymous anyway.

The worst part about getting in a car accident and breaking his leg in three places was the fact that Willie couldn’t skate for several months while he recovered and went through physical therapy and all the other bullshit necessary to make sure he was strong enough to compete at a similar level as before. His sponsors had been understanding and Willie was able to do little things here and there to fulfill his contracts, so he wasn’t too worried about any of that for the time being. Mostly he was just bored and fidgety. But it was okay, because the best part about getting in car accident and breaking his leg in three places was having Alex as his caretaker while he recovered.

Alex, who had shown up at the hospital when Willie was still groggy from surgery and climbed into bed with him and kissed his bruises and told him he loved him. Alex, who had come back to the hospital every chance he got for the week Willie was stuck there post-op. Alex, who had practically moved into Willie’s apartment once he was sent home, even though they had both agreed they weren’t ready to live together yet, because Willie needed someone to help him get to and from the bathroom and shower and Alex was obviously his first choice despite the fact that Willie had three capable roommates who had offered to help.

Alex was the best part about his recovery, hands down. Except for the fact that he seemed to think Willie was made of glass now.

They were supposed to be having a movie night at the Sunset Curve apartment. Willie had gotten his cast off and been switched to a walking boot earlier that day, and he had told Alex he would come by after he left the hospital because he needed a break from the same four walls of his bedroom. Luke and Reggie had sent a text that they were picking up a pizza and drinks, so Willie had hoped for maybe a little bit of make-out action on the couch before they got back. Instead, Alex had fretted and fluttered about, forcing Willie to lay down on the couch with his leg elevated while Alex plumped his pillows and asked him a million times if he was feeling okay. Willie had been about ready to tackle Alex just to get him to shut up, still healing leg be damned, when Luke and Reggie came back.

Then it had been an argument over what to watch with Reggie insisting they hadn’t watched Star Wars recently even though they definitely had, and by the time the yellow words were rolling across the screen Willie realized Alex had opted for the floor next to the couch instead of the actual couch itself. He had his arm stretched out along Willie’s hip, but it wasn’t nearly enough contact. So, Willie swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood, before unceremoniously dropping himself down directly in Alex’s lap. Alex let out an indignant huff, rolling his eyes as Reggie turned to shush him.

“Willie, what the hell? Get back on the couch, you need to rest your leg.”

Willie rolled his own eyes, snuggling further into Alex’s chest, winding his arms around the back of his neck to play with the blonde hair that was a bit overgrown at the back.

“No, I need to cuddle with my boyfriend. You keep acting like you’re gonna hurt me if you touch me and its honestly pretty rude. I’m not that breakable.”

Alex made sound of protest in the back of his throat, his hands waving around and above Willie’s booted leg.

“Obviously you are very breakable!”

“Yeah, in a fight with a car,” Willie snorted, sighing and refusing to budge even an inch. “You could never hurt me. C’mon, baby, please?”

Alex flushed from head to toe. Willie didn’t usually break out the softer pet names unless they were alone because they kind of made Alex blue screen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Willie pressed a kiss against Alex’s throbbing pulse as well, in for a penny, in for a pound and all that.

“Guys,” Reggie whined, “can you like...take it to the bedroom or shut up? Some of us are trying to watch the Empire strike back here.”

And Alex, sweet, beautiful, perfect Alex, scooped Willie up like he weighed nothing at all, cheeks still pink and eyes unfocused in a way that told Willie his mind had taken a nosedive into the gutter. He couldn’t help but laugh, clinging on so that he wasn’t complete deadweight in Alex’s very capable arms.

“Dude, seriously?” He heard Luke call out, but the sound was muffled quickly behind Alex’s bedroom door as it closed, the lock clicking into place.

“That wasn’t fair.”

Alex’s tone didn’t match his words, his voice going breathless as he snuggled both of them into the bed, his hands sneaking under the hem of Willie’s crop top to skim along his ribs.

“All’s fair in love and war, babe.”

Willie let Alex swallow the sound of his laugh, lips meeting for the much-anticipated make-out session he had been hoping for earlier. Movie night was forgotten. By the time the sun was rising, Willie was pretty sure he had convinced Alex exactly how not breakable he was.

Alex wasn’t usually the one to initiate physical contact. Willie was completely at ease handing out kisses and hugs and linking their fingers together whenever it suited him, but Alex wasn’t quite as uninhibited. He had gotten better over the last year or so of dating, but he still wasn’t quite as casual with it. It was easier when they were alone, Willie’s lingering glances and complimentary words making him feel bold and confident.

It was kind of a running joke between them, the fact that Alex had initiated their first kiss so suddenly only to then spend the rest of their relationship holding himself back a bit. And even though Willie never meant it as more than a tease, Alex had been genuinely trying to change that about himself. He had started therapy and he was doing the work to unpack all of the ways his parents had fucked him up over the years. He was learning and growing, and not just for Willie, but for himself. It was nice.

Okay, it was really fucking hard and stressful. But it was also kind of working. Alex had found himself feeling a lot less anxious, especially when Willie was out of town competing and Alex had flashbacks to the car accident and other minor injuries Willie had sustained while on the road. He had learned some new coping mechanisms, and he had started to be a bit freer with his own physical affection. Which definitely had some very nice side effects.

Side effects like finally being the one to make Willie blush and blank out for once.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. They had been dating for over a year, they regularly spent the night together, they were fully committed to each other. They had sex for Christ’s sake, so nothing should have felt like too much intimacy wise. And it didn’t. Until they were at some BBQ for one of Willie’s skater friends and Alex started to feel a bit overwhelmed, but instead of taking himself into the bathroom to have a quiet moment and pull it together, he found Willie, sitting next to a fire pit with a beer in hand. He didn’t even think twice before dropping into his lap and snatching the can from Willie’s grasp to steal a sip.

The contact was instantly comforting, and Alex suddenly realized that must be why Willie was constantly crawling into his own lap. It felt cozy and safe in his boyfriend’s arms, every part of him warm and close enough for Alex to inhale the scent of coconut shampoo mixed with cherry Chapstick. It was only when he went to return the beer can to Willie that he realized he had kind of frozen. For one second, Alex let himself panic that he had gone too far, done something wrong that would end up ruining everything, and then he realized Willie was breathing a lot faster than normal, one of his hands finding purchase against Alex’s waist and squeezing. The conversation carried on around them, but time seemed to stand still within their own personal little bubble.

“Alex, you cannot just do that and expect me not to want you six ways to Sunday now.”

Willie’s breath was hot against Alex’s neck, his words coming out fast and furious like he had to say them all now before he couldn’t speak at all. Alex felt his cheeks warm as he turned his head slightly to meet Willie’s eyes. His pupils were wide, cheeks the kind of ruddy dark brown that Alex had learned meant he was definitely blushing too. The fingers on the hand that was clenched around Alex’s hip danced across the thin strip of skin between his pants and his shirt, drawing a series of patterns across Alex’s side that made him shiver. Willie groaned beneath him, the sound breathless and just loud enough for Alex to hear. He smirked, wiggling a little like he was trying to get more comfortable.

“Lex, I swear to God I will make out with you so hard right in front of all these people. It won’t bother me. You gotta stop it unless you’re willing to risk that.”

Alex kinda wanted to risk it. Knowing he made Willie feel that out of control was a huge rush. God, he really should have taken advantage of all this physical stuff a lot earlier, huh?

“You wanna make out with me here, or you wanna make out with me back at your apartment?”

Alex kept his voice hushed, dipping his head so his lips were right next to Willie’s ear. Willie shuddered beneath him and then downed his beer in one long swallow. He nudged Alex to standing, following him but not moving out from his spot slightly behind him as his hand fit itself more snuggly into place along Alex’s waist.

“Gents,” he addressed the other skaters scattered around the fire with a two fingered salute, “Lex and I gotta get going. Got some plans to take care of.”

Alex tried not to snort and blush at the obvious undertone to Willie’s words. The rest of the group had no such qualms, hooting and hollering as Willie practically dragged Alex out of the back yard, hand raising to give them a middle finger when Alex heard Max call out get you some, Stewart! Alex laughed, stepping up close behind Willie as they came around to the front of the house, voice dipping low in a tease.

“Jeez, Wils, who knew sitting in your lap would do it for you?”

Willie turned without warning, catching Alex before he could trip into him and surging forward to connect their lips in a kiss that featured a bit more teeth than usual.

“You do it for me, Alex. It’s all you, all the time. God, I fucking love you.”

Alex didn’t get a chance to respond before Willie was pulling away and ushering Alex into his car. He linked their hands together on the console between the seats, and Alex didn’t even complain once about his speeding. He was too busy thinking up all the other things he could do to make Willie lose it in public like that again. He had a lot of time to make up for, and the rest of their lives to do so.

#mads writes #gimme a chance #jatp #julie and the phantoms #willex #jatp ficlet #willex ficlet #send me prompts for my birthday!#<- literally just tagging that for consistency #alex mercer #willie jatp

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imnotwolverine · 3 years

Text

The Englishman JACK - CHAP 1

Chap 1 The Name Is Jack | Chap 2 >

Summary: Jack travels to his new employer and Bunny tries to get away.

Word count: 4.657 (17 min. read)

Disclaimers: Strong language, misogyny, mention of relationship with great age gap, lots of cigarettes and “the thrill of the chase”.

Call Me Jack

Lipstick stains and cigarette buds were all that was left of her. The woman who made him into a man. The room he stood in now felt strangely unwelcoming. Like he was a stain himself. Black and bold in this lavish palace of beige and gold, on the top floor of the Parisian Grande.

The smog of cigar smoke and traffic jams was rising up through the ceiling-height windows, starting yet another day in this crazy paradise called Paris. The city had somehow always felt pompous to him, just like this apartment. Buffed gold furniture, heavy beige curtains, the scent of patchouli and sex lingering deep in its essence. It was the french way, she would have said. But she was no longer here. And he was not here to stay.

Thumbing over the precious jewels that had once graced her stretched out earlobes and wrinkled swan neck, he remembered the time he had accidentally teared one of these off. She had simply laughed at his eagerness. But he had felt great shame, crawling around on the beige carpet to look for one of the missing pearls.

I’ll buy a new one, my boy.

My boy. Years had passed since then. Since that moment. And she had made her boy into a man.

All he now had to do, was avenge her.

It was the same thing each and every morning, it seemed. The metal bullet shells chinked as they were cleaned away by the butler on the next terrace. With heavy strokes of the broom the morning silence was broken. But the world didn’t seem to mind. All was quiet. The birds were hushed, the sun was struggling and wisps of mist drifted lazily over the rolling Tuscan hills. Like the Italians themselves, nothing here seemed to be eager to get started with the new day.

Even the three bodyguards that were stationed on the far edges of the porch seemed to be more asleep than awake. Dressed in their sharp black suits they rose from the mists like great Greek statues, squared shoulders turned to stare out in the distance. What they were looking at exactly, was anybody’s guess; for the next 10 miles or so, the land was pretty much entirely owned by Bunny’s family, the Maniari’s.

Sighing quietly, Bunny sat back in her black and white cushioned chair, making the mists curl away for a moment. The northern porch hardly had the best view; a large wall hid most of the gorgeous landscape. But it was all she was allowed in terms of “freedom” as she had her breakfast session out here in the morning chill. As usual she was dressed to a tee, floral blue sundress and pretty magazine-style hair indicating she had been up at least a few hours already.

She was so very different from her family, who wouldn’t wake before the sun was high and the remnants of last night’s “hunting games” were cleaned and cleared. In fact she was..bored. Was a woman of her station even allowed to be bored? Here be Bunny, the ridiculously rich and perfectly cared for mobster misses! Bunny, the woman who had it all but wanted even more! She snickered to herself. Would the wax melt off her wings if she too would try to touch the sun? Just out of mere curiosity whether it would hurt? Would she drown in the seas and for once be done with this? This..this...ugh.

Knowing she was no Icarus by any means - it was the lack of waxen wings on her back, she figured, she flicked back some of her brown locks. The men who stood on the far ends of the porch seemed truly dazed today. A rough night perhaps? Having finished her last bite of marmalade on toast - also so very un-italian, she tapped the ash of her cigarette onto the ashtray next to her plate.

Would they notice if she’d fly off? It was a good question to pose in a world where men turned a blind eye on so many things. Squinting her eyes, Bunny took another long suck of the ashen delight between her fingertips. These men truly did seem blind. Or at least sleepy. Heads were hanging slightly limp and from the soft beeps coming from Number One’s walkie talkie, it was clear he was definitely not paying attention.

Her father had once said that these men were stationed near her for safekeeping. But Bunny knew better. She knew they were just as much here to keep her from running off. Away from this golden cage with its marble floors and far too expensive crystal chandeliers. But these poor men couldn’t help it either. They probably had played a late night of poker with Big - something you simply couldn’t win even if you had all the good cards in your hand. Life simply wasn’t fair like that. Not here at least.

Quietly slipping from her chair, her dress brushing through the mists, Bunny snuck back inside - to get out.

These dresses are only getting shorter, huh? With a devious little smirk Jack settled back in the cushioned airplane seat. He watched as one of the flight attendants shuffled by with her demure little smile. The plane was about to take off, heavy engines rumbling on the taxi strip. But first, he’d let one of these sky angels do the honours. And, looking up, apparently the lady of choice had come to her calling. Italian presumably, he saw her lips curl in a semi-flirty smile.

‘Good afternoon.’ - Her French accent was horrid. ‘May I please assist you with your seatbelt?’ She was already leaning over before Jack could object. Not that he would. Settling back a little more, he let her tiny hands clutch around the metal clasp. It was a challenge to get the thing tugged around his luggy hips. But he didn’t protest as she bent over a little more. If anything, he let the opportune moment run its course as the taxiing plane rolled over a pesky little bump. Enough for him to bump into her in consequence, the little accident followed up by a polished act of surprise on his end. A warm, steadying hand on her hip was all it took to turn the woman into a blushing, flustered mess. She chuckled and apologised with that same awful little accent.

Not that he cared. With a suave, calm smile he settled back, thanking her in perfect Italian. And with that the deal was sealed; he had ensured that this flight would be just as delightful as this woman’s dress implied..

You know what they say. Can’t let a good thing get away.

‘Found anything?’

The two men stepped into the beams of the car’s headlights. The night around them was muddled black, heavy rain clouds obscuring the skies. It was one of those moments where a seeing man could feel blind. Though these men didn’t seem to be concerned with the dark. Sharing a handshake, muddied feet slushing in the red earth, they greeted one another. One of them showed a slight limp.

‘No -’ The limping man coughed raggedly. ‘Nothing.’

‘And the footprints?’

‘Dead end.’ His cough continued and he spat on the ground, bloody mucus seeping into the crimson soil.

‘Brother..’

‘We’ll find ‘em. Just give me more time.’

The other wished to object, but a soft crack in the bushes on their left disturbed them. Someone was there. An intruder. Hidden in that pesky veil of night. With a grumble the healthy man grabbed for his gun. But the limping men stopped him.

‘Brother? Let me..!’

A church bell rang in the distance, silencing them. Twelve times the heavy copper tolled, announcing midnight, and the end of their fleeting meeting.

‘Whomever it was, we can’t chase ‘em.’ The limping man sighed. ‘And rain’s comin’.’ He coughed again and grasped the other man’s sleeve. ‘Let’s go. Ghosts aren’t worth bullets.’

Was there something like the thrill of being chased? Bunny clutched the steering wheel of her trusty blue cake tin on wheels, squealing with excitement as it slipped in the puddles of last night’s thunderstorm.

Much like the weather - the air now clean and fresh, she felt a renewed energy in her bones. This could very well be the time she’d succeed. The time she’d finally get away.

She had omitted all the non-essentials. She had learned by now that it was key to not act suspicious. Learn the patterns and only then take the leap.

The last time had failed catastrophically. Apparently she had been too obvious with her packed suitcase at the ready. Not even a lie about a personal safety plan with all the gang violence going on was enough to dissuade her father from her intentions. She could still feel the ache in her buttocks from the spanking she had received.

So yes. She had learned. She had learned to be more inventive. And now here she was. Smirking. With a sideglance she looked to the backseat of her trusty little Fiat. A small designer bag lay there discarded. Barely noticeable to the male eye, but packing much more than just the usual feminine essentials. In fact this bag held none of the usual make-up items and hair spray. It held passports, roadmaps, money and a well-thought out escape plan. She was ready. She was. Right?

Clutching the steering wheel a little tighter, she looked back at the road. And just in time. With a panicked foot on the brakes she slid through the mud, barely managing to evade the unamused looking vintager who had just stepped onto the road after inspecting his vineyard.

‘Fuck.’ Bunny muttered quietly, keeping the slower speed long enough to raise an apologising hand at the man. It was the new one. The new vintager, the other one deceased some years ago. The other wine makers had refused to take on this piece of land. And none would say it aloud, but the reasoning was simple; it was the only small trip of land that separated the Maniari estate from the Luchesse estate. Two mobster powerhouses trying their best to overrule the other; you simply didn’t want to be in the middle of that.

And now Bunny had nearly killed the one person who had dared to take on the challenge.

Trying her best to calm her racing heart, Bunny looked back to the road ahead of her. She couldn’t make a mistake now. Not when she was so close to getting out. So close to freedom. Because that’s what she wanted, right? She was ready, right? Clutching the steering wheel she pushed the gas pedal a little deeper again, forgetting for a hot minute to look back. And in doing so, she missed one essential little cue in the shape of a rushing car behind her.

The thrill of the chase was back.

Jack gritted his teeth. Not even the lovebites in his neck or the linger of sweet perfume could calm his nerves. He was hours away from Florence. Hours away from pretty city women, good coffee and proper infrastructure - the roads all red mud around here.

Jack was also not sure whether this rental he had received from that car dealer was set up for failure, or that it was just misfortune that had killed the engine. Either way: he was stuck. Stuck in an idyllic picture of green winelands covered in a thick blanket of ethereal mists. A dreamscape, the likes he had seen on postcards sent by his good friend Luigi. Those cards had often described trivial things, until a week ago, when Jack received a request. And if it weren’t for their friendship, it would be for his own devices that Jack found this trip to Tuscany to be a perfect way to spend some time. One plane ride, car drive and engine failure he was here. Stuck as a bug in a rug. Or in this case stuck with a car in the mud.

‘Fuck.’ He grumbled, turning off the radio that was bleating on about some local seismic activity. He wished right now he had accepted Luigi’s offer to have him chauffeured to the estate. But Jack was a proud man, and a man of resolve. Besides, he enjoyed driving in most cases. It gave a sense of freedom, of power. Engines rumbling, the windows rolled down.

But that would be for another time. First he had to find a new means of transportation.

Swinging open the door he stepped out into the morning mists, nostrils flaring out to breath in the biting cold that licked around his heated skin. Perhaps he shouldn’t have worn his fine calf leather shoes, he mused, looking down at the mud splatters as they painted a red dotted work of art over the recently polished noses.

Gritting his teeth again he cued a cigarette to his lips and turned around the back of the car, picking up his suitcase and hat before starting his way down to the nearest village.

Bunny knew she had failed when she turned the roundabout. With a flash of black and white the sleek suit of Number Four was hard to miss from behind his steering wheel. And he was far too close for comfort. Especially with him driving the Mercedes-Benz, its engine rumbling like a dark horse to match his steely gaze.

Taking a swift turn, Bunny changed plans. Straight roads were omitted and made way for the local Saturday market, her car soon disappearing in the hustle and bustle of cows, chickens, cabbages and coffee.

Nervous hands thrummed on her steering wheel as she moved at a snail’s pace through the meandering crowds. It was terribly busy, and that made the market both a blessing and a curse all in one. Old nans with hunchbacks, young children playing soccer, farmers marketing their produce; any other time this would have been a lovely place to be. But right now Bunny had no time to wait for the cows before her to cross the street. And so with a quick flick of the wrist she escaped her car, bag in her hand as her swift feet zipped past the meaty backsides of two brown cows before she vanished into the misty morning mayhem.

Her heartbeat was racing. Fluttering like a little bird caught in too small a cage. Sweaty hands clutched onto the bag in her arms as she apologised to a leather faced man she bumped into, his large chest already puffing up before he turned to scold her for not “using her godgiven eyes”.

‘Scusi!’ She scampered away, little mules clicking on the paved village square. She had made sure that, though practical, her clothes wouldn’t have raised any suspicion on her family’s part. And with her always wearing something rather fashionable, today was no exception. Her calf-length blue summer dress waved around her legs as she brushed past the flower stall sales men, their hands waving around in the air to catch her attention.

‘Miss! Miss! Why the hurry?! Good morning, good morning!’

She wished to throw them a wistful smile, but her eye caught on to a blur of a neat suit on the other side of the square instead. Another mobster? Really?! Keeping her green eyes transfixed on the man who was trying to chat up with one of the salesmen, she noted he was different from the others. Brown suit covered up to his calves in mud and with his handsome face contorting in agony, she saw him turn away from the salesman. She had never seen this man before. He looked foreign, his skin far less tan than most Italians and his eyes a shade of Mediterranean blue. He could very well be one of the American movie hunks she used to fawn over. Cary Grant, Humprey Bogart. His slicked back dark hair and chiseled cheeks by no means inferior to the legends of the silver screens.

But there was no silver screen here. And Bunny had no time for funny business. She had to figure out what to do. Go home and act like nothing happened? Try again later? Or get out on foot and hope that her father’s henchmen wouldn’t use their bloodhound like noses to track her down.

Feeling cold shivers run up her spine she wished to grasp for her bag, only to realise it was no longer hanging down her hip. There went the last of her plans. Washed down the drain, like the fish scales washed by the fishmonger behind the tall, handsome stranger. Who, strangely enough, had disappeared.

‘Good morning signora.’ A warm honeyed voice brushed past the shell of her ear and without looking, Bunny darted off. Did Number Four get backup? Or was it one of them? Fuck-fuck-fuck. With hasted feet she pushed past a group of women doing their daily shopping, disturbed eyes looking her up and down before they stepped aside for the mobster daughter’s pursuer.

‘GET OFF ME!’ Bunny exclaimed when she felt a hand on her arm, her hands raising up to throw in a punch if need be. But it wasn’t Number Four who stared back at her. It were heavy dark eyebrows, risen near comically onto the handsome stranger’s face.

‘I am..profusely sorry milady! I…’ Blue eyes blinked at her before he reached out a familiar item to her: her bag. Bunny exhaled. It was just her bag. Her bag! Her.. She snapped her eyes back at him. Who was this?

‘Thanks.’ She grabbed for the bag, only to see his hand wrap a little more tightly around the tan leather.

‘Wait a moment…’ He narrowed his eyes and terror was back in Bunny’s bones. Fuck. Was he with them?! She tugged a little more fiercely on the bag, but it didn’t budge. Oh please let go! Please let go! She pulled and pulled, but she was no match to the hidden muscles beneath the man’s well-cut suit. He smirked.

‘Are you..the Maniari sister?’ His accent finally clicked; foreign indeed. British, most likely. Was it the man her brother had mentioned to be visiting soon? Frowning, Bunny looked back at the man, only to realize another two suits had popped up in the corner of her vision. She had to make haste. Now.

‘Follow me and find out.’ She breathed, using her momentum to pull her bag free from his hand before running in the direction of a narrow alleyway between the houses. Fresh laundry was hanging from lines that crossed above her head, casting the street in a misty play of shadows, waving over her escaping form.

As half expected, the man continued to pursue her, muddied soles following her in close proximity.

‘Where are we going?’ His voice remained level despite the exertion and Bunny cast him a side glance. He jogged easily behind her, eyes looking up and around the narrow street. She wasn’t sure whether he was nervous about onlookers, or just admiring the change of scenery.

With a sharp turn they entered an even smaller alleyway. But just as she was about to make another right, she saw men rush past. And from the looks of it they were most definitely looking for her. Sharp suits, eager eyes. Within an instant she had pressed her back against the wall, making the stranger half bump into her.

‘In a bit of trouble?’ He smiled. ‘Do tell me it’s not a stolen bag, for…-’

‘Shut it.’ Nervously looking around herself, Bunny decided to keep heading straight, passing through another alleyway where a few women were hanging out carpets to give a pounding. Dust circled up in the air, offering a perfect getaway for their retreating feet.

Some streets later Bunny found herself back at the other side of the square. And if she wasn’t mistaken, her car wouldn’t be far from here. With nimble feet she moved through the crowds that were returning home after their shopping. Arms full of fresh fish, bread and vegetables; it was a challenge to not knock anything out of hands as she zipped past.

Staying hidden in the shade of the narrow passage, she eyed the street where her car was left in the middle of the road. No suits were seen, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Over her shoulder, the stranger watched along with her. Was he really not with them? Or was this just play pretend and would he be there to push her into their arms at the opportune time? Feeling her heart thump in her ears, Bunny pressed back into his chest, wishing to back away. And thankfully he did so too, sidestepping so they could remain hidden in the shadows of the buildings surrounding them.

‘Bunny, right?’ He whispered, looking at Bunny’s mildly flushed face. She was a beauty with her brown haired bangs and sparkling green eyes. And a feisty one too. With a scowl she looked back at him.

‘And you are?’

‘A tall dark handsome stranger?’ He tried, smiling. She rolled her eyes quietly and looked back at the square. As half expected one of her father’s henchmen had stepped out from one of the alleyways, shaking his head at someone who didn’t wear a suit. They were everywhere. Why had she even been so stupid to try and get out? Who did she think she was?

‘God have mercy.’ She whispered, shaking her head in defeat. This might just have very well been the last time she’d be allowed to even be outside. Here be Bunny, the mobster misses who became a prisoner in her own home. Woopti-fucking-doo.

‘May I suggest something?’ Jack eyed the little blue car that was left alone as the mobster henchmen ran into another street to continue their search.

‘Shoot.’

‘Charming woman you are.’ He teased.

‘Don’t push it.’ She looked back into his blue eyes, expectantly, waiting for him to dish up his idea.

‘I drive, you lay low and once at home you better have a really good excuse for your father.’

Bunny snarled. There went the last of her plans.

‘Papa!’ Bunny kissed her father’s cheek with perhaps a touch too much enthusiasm. Would he notice she was faking it?

‘Bunny, dear.’ Augusto leaned back a little to brush a loving thumb over his daughter’s face. He seemed quite oblivious to whatever had just transpired.

‘Sleep well?’ She asked, stepping back so her father could move to his desk where a recently lit cigar was waiting. Thick smoke curled up to the high ceiling of the dark, wood panelled office. And from the half-closed shutters and slow movements of Augusto it was clear he was having a particularly rough morning. Or hangover. Or perhaps both.

Waiting in the door opening, Jack shifted on his feet. He was painfully aware of the disheveled state of his shoes and pants. And all that running may have very well ruined his hair too. Keeping his hat in the crook of his arm he looked around the room. So this was it. The lion’s lair. The heart of the operation. Jack was just about to be addressed by the mobster lord who had settled back in his desk chair, when rushed footsteps echoed through the smooth marble hall. The mobster lord frowned and looked up and over Jack’s shoulder, where a heavy breathing bodyguard shot an exasperated look at Bunny.

‘YOU!’ The man wanted to step past Jack, but the Englishman was smooth in “accidentally” obstructing the doorway, eyebrows raising in feigned shock.

‘Apologies!’ Jack bowed slightly, making the bodyguard scowl even more. Apparently more people were having particularly rough mornings. Jack smiled inwardly and watched as Bunny stepped back to side with her father, her eyes betraying just how nervous she was despite her cool facade.

‘She was out, boss.’ The man pointed a reproachful finger at the brunette. ‘You little devil --’

Augusto inhaled sharply, face souring. ‘Out?’ He looked up and Bunny flinched. Augusto was an impressive looking man. Thin silver streaks framed his rugged looking face and his eyes flamed with passion, madness or both. Standing up with a pained groan he looked down at her, her feet wishing to shuffle back, but bumping into a small garbage bin instead.

That’s what she was to her father in this moment. Garbage. His face melted into complete and utter displeasure. ‘And what, daughter sweet, were you doing..out?! HMM? Wasn’t I clear?!’

‘Papa..I just..I wanted to --’

‘NONE OF THAT.’ Augusto inhaled from the cigar between his fingertips and let the smoke fume out through his nostrils. He looked like a raging bull, eyes wild as he looked back at the bodyguard, then Jack. Jack looked back at Augusto with level eyes, keeping them trained on the mobster lord with an unfazed expression.

‘And you?’

‘Your daughter was kindly enough to pick me up when I had car trouble.’ Jack stepped forward and bowed confidently. ‘Jack Wa--’

‘Are you a fool?!’

Jack raised back up and saw the mobster had turned back to his daughter, making Bunny shrivel smaller and smaller every passing second. She shook her head.

‘How..ugh..how are we ever to find you a husband? This insolence! You are just like your mother. You women you!’ He gripped Bunny’s face between digging fingertips and studied her for a second, snarling: ‘I’ll deal with you later.’ He let go, leaving small red marks on her skin as she rushed past Jack and outside of the room. Jack swallowed. He knew that Luigi’s family were mobsters. He had never cared much for it. All rich people seemed to have their flaws. Their peculiarities. And he was a friend of the family right? But perhaps that had just now been completely and utterly ruined.

‘And you must be Walker.’

Jack quickly returned his attention to Augusto. ‘I am.’ Jack nodded solemnly, keeping a straight face as the bodyguard turned on his heel and looked Jack up and down. His eyes lingered especially long on his sodden trousers, red mud dried like bloody splatters on the brown wool fabric around his calves.

Oh, how he wished he could have changed into a different suit before meeting Augusto. First impressions mattered, you see.

‘Do not be nervous.’ Lucia smiled, squeezing her fingers around his bicep. ‘It’s just men. Stupid, silly, rambunctious men. They wouldn’t know a good thing even if it hit them straight in the face.’ Her silvery eyes glanced over at the bellboy who kept a straight face, staring in the direction of the elevator doors as they zipped up to the 11th floor of the Parisian Grand.

‘I’m not nervous.’ Jack looked down at her. All silvery haired class wrapped in a black satin gown. She was breathtaking. ‘Not for them at least. I’m nervous for..you.’

‘Me?’ She chuckled softly. ‘Oh sweet darling. You do not realize what a gem you are. The men in my life never cared for their women the way you do.’ She sighed and looked down at the ring on her finger. Wrapped around the smooth black tuxedo jacket, it sparkled like a star in nightly skies. She missed the one who gave that ring to her. But he was gone. And were it not for Jack, she’d feel rather alone - and terribly bored.

‘And your husband?’

‘Well. What can I say. He was a man. I loved him. I fought him. I hated him. And then he died.’

Jack swallowed as the elevator’s bell dinged, signalling they had arrived at Lucia’s suite. The place where he’d meet her family - and perhaps in a way become part of her family too.

‘Remember to be better than them my boy.’

‘It’s Jack, madame.’

‘I know, I know.’ She laughed and the doors slid open. Her fingers tapped comfortingly on his arm before they strode out into her palace of gold and glitter. ‘But you’re still my boy...Jack.’

Chap 2 >

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama @maddyreads14

#henry cavill as jack #henry cavill fanfiction #the englishman jack #tuscany #1956 #mobster fic #paris

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baseballbitch116 · 4 years

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At All Costs - part 2

Pairing: Shane Walsh x reader

Setting: Takes place in S2E5 “Chupacabra” flashback scene on the highway before the napalm - the apocalypse is beginning

Word Count: 2063

Warnings: Offensive language, graphic violence & death

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[gif does not belong to me]

By noon you guys managed to get out, finding yourselves stuck on the highway in a horrible traffic jam. You couldn’t have moved more than a mile in the first hour that you were stuck before it eventually stopped moving at all. You got out and switched seats with Liam so that he was in the back again. You held Shane’s hand as he checked through the radio stations. After fifteen minutes without moving, at 1:15, he decided to just shut the car off to conserve gas. Nobody was moving anytime soon, although you had no idea what was going on up ahead.

You saw people starting to get out of their cars up ahead, some pulling out foldable chairs, some going up ahead, presumably to see what was holding everything up. There wasn’t much on the radios - no music, only one news broadcaster from some town outside of Atlanta... It was all baffling. Where was the military? Was this happening all across the country?

“This is ridiculous,” You mutter under your breath as you watch people. There’s a lot of loud beeping somewhere behind you - as if that’ll help anything. “Where are we going?” You lean over the center console to ask Shane, keeping your voice low so that the children don’t hear.

“Refugee Center,” Shane responds, rubbing a hand over his chin as he continues scrolling through channels. He glances over at you for a moment, doing a double-take when he spots the look on your face. He lifts his hand from the radio and places it over your’s, giving it a squeeze. “Hey, hey. We’re gonna be okay.” He mutters, leaning in closer to you and looking into your eyes. You don’t see a shadow of doubt in his expression, as if what he was saying was a fact.

You nod your head at your husband and blink away the tears threatening to fall before your children can see them. You look up and spot an older woman with a young girl and a man - probably a family - getting out of their car in front of yours. “Maybe somebody else knows what’s going on?” You suggest, eager to get more information.

“Doubt it,” Shane responds, but unbuckles his belt and opens his door to get out anyway. You follow his lead and step out, the sun beating down on your skin. You open the backseat door and help Liam get out so that you can let Lori and Carl out to stretch. “Stay against our car.” You instruct Liam as you pull back his seat, offering your hand to Carl. The two of them stretch and look around as you push the seat back into place and lean over to check on Annie. “Mommy I’m bored.” She complains, wiggling in her car seat.

A sigh escapes your lips as you realize that the kids are going to be restless for however long this lasts.

“I’m hungry,” Sam mutters from his spot beside his sister. You see the expression on his face and your heart sinks. Your middle child tended to be shyer and reserved than his other siblings, typically keeping his thoughts to himself and trying to put on a brave face - despite being emotional. You were very protective of all of your children, but sometimes Sam more than the other two. “Let me see what I can do, hun.” You respond. “C’mon, let’s get out and stretch. Don’t know how much longer we’ll be in the car.” You say as you start to unbuckle Annie from her car seat. You spot Shane standing in the front of your car, a hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked around.

You help your daughter out of the car and watch Sam as he gets out on his side, immediately walking around to join you on your side. You leave the door open and walk around to the trunk, digging around for one of the bags of food you packed. You made sure to mostly grab canned goods and stuff that didn’t need to be cooked - but it wasn’t going to be pleasant. You continued digging around, seeing Lori approach Shane in the corner of your eye. Annie walks around to join you and peeks up into the trunk. “Can I have Bubby?” She asks, referring to her favorite stuffed bear.

Panic sets in as you question whether you remembered to pack her favorite doll. As meaningless as it was, she could not sleep without him under any circumstances. If you did not have that doll, you were about to be in serious trouble.

“I gotta look for him, hun. There’s a lot of stuff back here.” You respond, handing her a chocolate Rice Krispy Treat. You grab the entire box full, which was only a twelve-pack, and shut the trunk behind yourself. “C’mon.” You mutter, putting your free hand on her back guiding her back to the side of the car. You glance ahead when you spot Shane walking around to this side of the car. “Here guys,” You mutter as you hand each of the children a Rice Krispy.

“Is there plain?” Liam asks when you hand him a chocolate one. You hold in the tired sigh that wants to escape, taking the chocolate back and handing him the plain. You know that they’re just being children - you’re just stressed. “Carl, what kind do you want?” You ask, offering him to look inside the box. He pulls out one and gives you a half-smile. You feel horrible for him. He just lost his father and his home in one day. Who knows when you’ll be able to go back... “Lori? Rice Krispy?” You offer when she joins the rest of you on this side. She shakes her head and crosses her bare arms, looking around.

You feel your stomach growl but decide not to eat one. There isn’t much food and you don’t know how much you’re going to need - better to save it for the kids. “See anything?” You ask Shane when he follows you back to the trunk where you put the box away, half-heartedly searching for Bubby.

“Just a sea of cars. We gotta get off the road.” He responds with a low tone, leaning his tall figure over you as he speaks with his back to the others. You nod at him and let out a sigh of relief when you spot your daughter’s toy. “Thank God.” You mutter, spotting the sad smile on Shane’s face when he sees what you found.

“Would’ve had a mess on our hands if we forgot that.” He jokes, throwing his arm over your shoulder as you go back to rejoin the kids again.

The night drug on slowly, everyone becoming restless very quickly. You had resorted to trying to talk to people in cars neighboring you, looking for answers or even just conversation. You made conversation with the older woman from the car in front of yours and to the left. Her name was Carol, and she had a daughter Liam and Carl’s age named Sophia. Her husband wasn’t very friendly, keeping to himself as he smoked a cigarette. The sun had begun to set and you still had not moved from the same spot you had been in hours ago.

The kids were bored out of their minds and honestly you were too. Lori stood over at Carol’s car while Carl and Sophia played checkers in her trunk, and Shane sat in your driver’s seat going through the radio stations again. Annie was laying in the backseat pretending to put on a show with her doll while Sam and Liam sat on the hood of the car trying to look at constellations in the sky. You leaned on the open driver door and studied Shane as he continued. “Anything?” You ask. He shakes his head, running a hand through his black locks, slumping back into the seat.

“There’s nothin,” He mutters, meeting your eye for a moment before looking up ahead. You hear loud helicopters flying overhead, making you look up to try to spot them momentarily before drawing your attention back to him.

“Not surprising.” You mumble, standing up from where you leaned on the door. Shane shuts off the radio and gets out of the car.

“No, I mean there’s, there’s nothin... Emergency broadcasts system stopped - the recording bout the refugee center...” He grumbles as he shuts the door behind himself. “It’s all gone.” He starts walking ahead for a moment before turning around to face you. “Ima go up the road, see what I can see.” He says, tugging at his belt for a moment as he glances over at his boys.

“I’ll come with you.” You say, making your way over to Lori at Carol’s car. “Would you mind keeping an eye on them for a minute?” You ask her, looking between herself and Carol. They both nod at you, Lori walking back over to your car with you, only a few feet away from where Carl sat. You tap Liam on the shoulder to get his attention and both the boys look at you. “Dad and I are gonna look ahead a little bit and see if we can figure out what’s going on.” You inform them, running a hand through Sam’s messy hair.

“I wanna come with you,” Liam asks, moving to get off the hood but you shake your head.

“Uh uh, Lori’s gonna stay with you guys. We’ll only be a minute.” You start.

“We’ll be back before you know it, okay man. Hm?” Shane says, giving Liam an affection tap on the shoulder before starting up the road, you following after - before turning to shout over your shoulder. “Keep an eye on your sister!”

You follow Shane down the crowded road, blocking out all of the talking that was muffling together from all the people. More helicopters fly overhead, not very high above given how loud they are. “Why would they stop broadcasting about the refugee center?” You ask as you walk briskly behind him, letting Shane lead the way down the road through the tightly compacted cars.

“I’on know.”

“You think they’re turning people away?”

“They’re gonna have a riot on their hands if they try.” He responds, glancing around your surroundings. A loud bang sounds somewhere in the distance, possibly an explosion, startling you as you follow him. You hear some people start hollering and a fight break out off to the side somewhere. Shane grabs your arm and keeps you against his side as he guides you ahead. “What do we do?” You ask, panic setting back in.

“We’re gonna get the hell outta here.” He mutters. More helicopters sound overhead as they fly by, stopping you guys in your spot as you watch where they go. The commotion around you is growing as people start getting more anxious. You hear more bangs in the distance, similarly sounding to thunder. “That’s not lightning...” You mutter as you see light over the trees in the distance.

“You stay with me now, c’mon.” He mutters, starting to jog ahead to see where the helicopters are going. He leads you into the woods, a handful of people gathered by trees as they watch the city down below. The helicopters grow louder and you spot them flying in a line straight for the city - clearly military. You can barely see them in the darkness, only their lights helping you watch them. The city is pitch dark, with no street lights or anything - an abandoned atmosphere.

Shane gives you his hand to help you down a steep part and you stand beside him, your heart dropping when you hear bangs erupt. The city starts lighting up on fire as the helicopters bomb the streets of your home. “They’re dropping napalm in the streets...” Shane mutters as he lifts his hands above his head, stunned. The military would never do that unless it was last resort to contain something...

“Shane...” You mumble, your vision blurred by tears as you watch your home become engulfed in flames. You were just there hours ago... What if you hadn’t left? There are probably still people there... Like Rick... They just bombed a city without evacuating it...

Shane grabs you, enveloping you into his arms and shielding your face in his chest. You sob into his chest as the sounds of the bombs dropping and people screaming echo around you. He rests his chin on the top of your head as he cradles you, watching in horror as the city lights up.

---

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mulderspice · 5 years

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have you ever watched an episode of the Emmy award winning sci-fi drama, The X Files? Maybe you’ve read my original post and yet you’re still wondering where the hell Fox Mulder got all those strands of hair on his jumbo gigantic head. I am back and here to help you find the answers to some of your burning questions; as we celebrate the hard work and triumphs of the hair and makeup department on the Fox Lot and team up with my big huge brain and my New York State Cosmetology license to give the people what they want once again: another top ten guide to Mulder’s fucking hair..

upon making this post a second time (rip 😔), I realized that just about every episode (yes, every. single. one. even the ones without Mulder and the latest season where he has to share headspace with [redacted]) has its own important and iconic hair looks... You may recognize that some of these are slightly repeated from the last post but that’s ok! What I'm here to do is enforce! So lets get started..

#10 s6:e21 Field Trip: Here again we begin our journey into cosmetic superstardom with a personal favorite of mine. Mulder rolling with the times by getting a haircut fresh off the FTF wave left our nation in fucking shambles. Can’t imagine going to see a major motion picture in theatres jam packed with Mulder’s most supreme hair looks only to come back to my tv screen to see it all gone away. For students reading this post for educational purposes, this caused a worldwide walkout on popular salon franchise Supercuts in the year 1998. However, a haircut didn’t necessarily mean Mulder forgot how to take care of his hair. The precision and placement as each strand of hair perfectly outlines his jumbo head is revolutionary and inspiring. Mushroom induced drug high? K. Lemme still grab my teasing comb and my hairspray and make sure I look presentable for when my partner walks into my apartment screaming abt “where's Mulder” and wanting “answers”. The answer is this: this look is about giving people like myself with big heads rights and looking fuckable while doing so. 10/10 for inspiring hope.

#9 s1:e9 Space: Imagine you’re a few episodes into a show, the core plot is developing right before your eyes and you’re beginning to get to know The X Files three main characters; Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and Mulder Hair Strands #1-3. All is well except, you still have no clue how crucial, and critical Mulder Hair Strands 1-3 will become to the show and to your life and I am here to tell you that you are in for a very rude and bold awakening. This message goes out to all the haters and all the people who didn’t believe Mulder’s hair was valid prior to season 4. He is here to tell you he DID know how to use dry shampoo and even the occasional blow dry oil and you can suck a dick abt it. Bold of you to assume he wouldn’t pull the round brush and the biosilk out the drawer to impress a visit to fucking NASA. 10/10 for involving science.

#8 s4:e6 Sanguinarium: I sit here writing to you today as the song ‘Handmade Heaven’ comes on shuffle; strikingly fitting for this raw and ethereal image of straight up beauty and wonder and magic and heaven in hair. This special, freshly washed and air dried smells like strawberries and sandalwood and fuckability. The look reaches through your TV and wraps its hands around your neck and sucks the life right out of you. Are you gonna let it happen? You sure are. Lucky for you, I just so happened to be there when the angels hand sewed each strand of hair onto his head and here’s what they had to say about it: this is everything and more and the way Mulder has just washed his hair with fresh mountain water droplets hand collected like nothing else mattered. Put his clothes back on and went on his merry way. Can’t imagine being in Scully’s shoes ready to walk on in her partners room unannounced to go over serious case related matters and theories. Woulda went bonkers. This truly is a handmade heaven. Hand crafted by Mulder for Scully and for the good viewers of the globe. 10/10 for embracing me in its arms.

#7 s4:e3 Home: A look from one of primetime TV’s most notorious banned episodes. Viewer discretion IS advised not only for the horrifying and cringeworthy content displayed in this episode, but for also making it painfully blunt to the viewer that Mulder’s hair follicles are happier and healthier than anybody else's will ever be in their lifetime. In fact, I can feel my own hair falling out and being respawned onto HIS head as I type this and I’m sure you can too. The way the sun glistens off his golden brown strands makes me want to walk into oncoming traffic. You might also notice how effortless this look was, as it probably only took a quick run thru with his fingers, and Mulder’s passion and need to look sexy at any time of the day at all times. It’s obvious that this kind of thing comes naturally to him, which just comes off as insulting to men everywhere. 11/10 for striking fear into men’s hearts.

#6 s4:e20 Small Potatoes: Genuinely took every bone and nerve ending in my body to not put this look in the top 5 even though it so clearly deserves it. Here at mulderspice we believe in diversity, meaning it wouldn’t be right to make my top five greatest hairstyles ever produced on The X Files just of Mulder’s iconic and revolutionizing middle part (though really who is stopping me..). This screenshot in general has me up in arms at how perfectly the blue background matches his eyes, and how it accentuates his hydrated skin and lips. But you’re not here for that. It’s the hair particularly that really pulls the shot together, as Mulder took the time that morning to spray it with some tinted dry shampoo that most defiantly and absolutely smells like chocolate. This look feels like a warm hug on a frigid winter day. I feel EMBRACED and I feel CARED FOR thanks to the wonderful staff and team @ Mulder’s head and hair follicles. What the fuck could be better than this. 16/10 for making me feel some type of way.

#5 s4:e8 Tunguska: Currently you may not think anything of Krycek to the left of this image though ill have you know he plays an extremely vital part of this look and all the words I’m about to speak to you directly. So listen up: Krycek may have heroically slayed Mulder’s father in cold blooded and justifiable murder, but we thank him for this, as it caused Mulder to lash out in the best way possible: through looks. “Un-shun: Krycek do you think I’m good to bring my Redkin Rewind 6 styling paste with me or will the Russian TSA think of that as contraband? :Re-shun”. A sweaty, manly and highly illegal treck through a Russian testing facility and a stint in a violent foreign PRISON surely was not going to stop Mulder from keeping his hair properly hydrated, styled and parted. That’ll really ruffle Krycek’s feathers and make him feel sorry for what he did…. The sexiest way to avenge the death of your deadbeat father. 24/10 for you know why.

#4 s1:e6 Shadows: In the year 1993, Mulder steps onto the scene, young, fresh faced, bright eyed and ready to give men around the globe what they (so desperately) needed: the encouragement to care about their hair. Any backstreet boy you may know have this scene to thank directly, as this is what encouraged them to reproduce Mulder’s hair onto their own heads time and time again. What I would give to see with my own eyes Mulder length times width times height his head to equal this perfectly proportionate look of volume and sexy. And who can I write a warrant out to for allowing this shot to take place. Oh to be the various and expensive hair care products in Mulder’s bathroom …… 899/10 for starting a movement (-1 for making us do equations).

#3: s1:e10 Fallen Angel: The biggest regret I’ve ever had in my short little life was not adding this moment to the last post. And tumblr deleted it in order to give me this opportunity to present this to you today. By the way, that absolutely is in fact a choir of angels singing as you view this image. Go ahead and try to think of something on this earth that could be better than this tossled bed headed im-stressed-becos-my-partner-of-2-weeks-isn’t-seeing-the-big-picture-about-how-we’re-all-key-pawns-in-an-ongoing-government-conspiracy hairstyle hand crafted by Mulder all while holding his head in his hands hard at work trying to break through to the truth. Scully [insert photo of Scully with her eyes popping out of her head here] and I both wanna rip our own hair out and throw it in the garbage. 2000/10 for making our hearts ache..

#2: s4:e10 Paper Hearts: Behold- the image I’m slamming down on the desk at full force when I finally get myself a therapist. I need a licensed professional doctor to help me understand the various angles that this purposeful shot affects my life health and well being. In a paranoia induced out of body experience Mulder took his pinky finger and parted his hair down the middle, took a protractor to perfectly round the tendrils falling ever so gracefully on his forehead and ran out of his apartment and through the woods of DC. Doesn’t matter if he’s crazy? Doesn’t matter if its fuck all 4am? Who knows if the discoveries of this night is finally going to answer the heartbreaking questions regarding Mulder’s baby sister? Fuck it we’re just gonna make sure Scully has something to look forward to after being awoken yet again in the middle of the night and asked to come wrangle and control this stupid idiot. This just makes me unhinged. 50000/10 for waking up in the middle of the night and doing the most for us all.

#1 s4:e3 Teliko: This one will remain number one for as long as I shall live. I’ve dedicated my life to this cause and I’m ready to make you painfully aware of it. Grab a pen and paper and get ready to do some heavy math with me because this look right in front of your eyes is the equation to happiness and sexiness. Can barely find the words to describe to you how this picture makes me feel. Each strand of hair is personally reaching down and wrapping his head in one big giant hug of protection and solitude. Unbelievable that Scully didn’t head back to her hotel room and scream at the top of her lungs right after this. There’s no way she went about her day as normal without wanting to kick the shit out of him and then put him back together with soft feathery kisses. What you are witnessing here is the very turning point of the show where Scully looked into into the very center point of that part and said “guess I have no choice but to fall in love with him 🚶🏽‍♂️”. Chris Carter’s idealistic version of Mulder and the one we actually ended ups seeing as viewers were so drastically different that it’s blatantly clear that he had absolutely no idea the cultural implications that were about to rock the world to its core and tip it on its axis when David Duchovny showed up on set looking like this. I could write a thesis about this. I could conduct research and studies about this. I got kicked out of college because I cared more about this than I did actual schoolwork. I feel like I’m in a very sexy chokehold. Wish I could live forever in one little square pixel of this image. Nothing means more to me than this. 1000000/10 no further comments.

and the honorable mentions go to....

s8:e16 Three Words: Dead? Did you die? Did you die and miraculously defy god by rising from the dead and coming back to life? Just got home from the morgue? Think nothing is the same? Left guessing if you’re a soon to be 5 minute father? Did you just fucking die? He’s lost his family and his job and the world just went on without him like it was nobody’s business. Walked out of the morgue right to his apartment and what did he have left? His expensive array of hair styling and finishing products that’s what the fuck he had left. Being an all around reject from society didn’t at all stop him from taking his fingers and dipping it into that Big Sexy styling pomade and fluffing his head to high heavens. As a personal fuck you to god and to John Doggett too. He’ll never let you know the emotional hellstorm going on in his life in that moment but he WILL make it known to you that despite being 8 feet under ground for 6 months he’ll never give up on his hair. For the PEOPLE. Try and go through the nightmare of death and then rejected fatherhood and see if you come out of it with any hair at ALL. An itty bitty glimpse into what would have been Untitled Mulder Abduction Story (2001)....

I Want To Believe (2008): Here you will see the sluttiest moment in major motion picture history. Shh im not using this opportunity to show you this screenshot for the 800th time I’m trying to keep you educated. BREAKING NEWS; Man hiding in home office for 6 years fully off the grid has FULL head of hair and is getting regular sex *not clickbait*. So what if Mulder has gone fully unhinged and off the walls bonkers he’s also gone FULL slut and it shows in that sexy thick voluminous head of slut hair. If you ever for a second thought prior to seeing this movie for the first time that Mulder would show up a full on son-less wreck and a half think the fuck again babes. He’s managed to hold on to every single little strand ever grown on his head even well into his middle aged madness and its about time we give him the credit he deserves. (PS. Please know I wrote this entire spiel without even viewing the shot shown here. Its just permanently etched on the inside of my forehead so its there when my eyes roll back into my head.) For this we say…..; Whore rights.

s11:e3 Plus One: Incase you were unaware, I have been going through a very slow and painful process of erasing Season 11 from my brain completely. Its been a long road but its achievable and the end result will save me from a lot of future heartache and trauma. This however, is a moment I will cherish forever and though you may think its for the hot sex (which is like maybe 30% the case) its actually because it puts together everything I’ve ever loved and believed about the show in only a few thousand pixels. How old is Mulder here? 30? 31? Still has hair and still has an unbelievable amount of love to shower Scully in for as long as they both shall live (which lets face it, she deserves one million times over.) What this has taught me was to hang up my “Mulder deserved…” hat for good and just be thankful for what I’ve got. I ended up with no son or happy dreamy ending where Mulder gets to die with a family he’s never had in his life, but here we are left with the little things.. Like Mulder and Scully’s unconditional love and most importantly .. The hair on Mulder’s head. Its called growth and acceptance and I am learning it. Also I just wanted to show you what it would look like if you were like 57 and sexy and still had all ur hair. That’s it :-)

#and this one i SAVED!!!!! enjoy #here at mulderspice

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 5 years

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Namjoon Scenario| He surprises you on your birthday

Nothing seemed to be going right today. For some reason your phone had decided to update in the middle of the night, and not turn back on. Meaning you overslept through your alarm and were almost an hour late to work. Your boss had yelled at you. It didn’t matter it was the first time you were late, they just weren’t having it. A customer had been rude to you too. Calling you incompetent and questioning how you even were still employed. You were 2 seconds away from exploding before your coworker pulled you aside and handled the angry customer. You felt like you couldn’t even do your job right. Your manager could see you were struggling, and had sent you home only after being at work for a few hours. You felt awful. And to make matters worse on your way back home there was a traffic jam and by the time you got home it was almost the same time your shift would have been over.

You were mentally and physically drained. Trudging up the stairs and fumbling with your keys to put them in the door. You were ready to just give up and sleep the day away and possibly call off tomorrow too after the horrible day you had. You thought you heard shuffling sounds from inside your apartment. Weird. You thought to yourself. Chalking it up to exhaustion and stress making your mind play tricks on you, you put your key in the door and opened it. It was pitch black in your apartment, another thing you thought was odd. You usually always left the living room light on since you got home late and didn’t want to be fumbling around in the dark. You turn the lights on and nearly have a heart attack when you suddenly hear shouting in your apartment.

“Surprise! Happy Birthday y/n!” You scream and drop your purse, your hand flies to your chest as you take deep breaths and take everything in. You see Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin, Jin, Hoseok, Yoongi and Namjoon all standing in your living room with happy smiles on their faces. Namjoon is holding a cake in his hand with sparkler candles now lit.

“What are you all doing here? Who’s birthday is it? I don’t remember hosting a surprise party in my house?” You tilt your head in confusion and a few of the members laugh at you. Namjoon walks over with the cake in hand and gives it to you. He places a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s your birthday y/n. Did you really forget?” You shake your head trying to clear your thoughts as you continue to glance around the room at everyone. They all had presents in hand for you.

“It really is my birthday.. oh my gosh I completely forgot. I had such a horrible day today and I didn’t even have time to breathe let alone remember it was my birthday.”

“Well hopefully this will make up for your bad day. Everyone! Let’s sing happy birthday!” Taehyung is the first one to start the chorus of happy birthdays being sung to you. You were so incredibly happy having your best friends and boyfriend here to spend your birthday with you. When they all finish singing you blow out the candles.

“What did you wish for?”

“You know I can’t tell you that Namjoon, or it won’t come true!”

“Ah yes of course. How could I forget?” You set the cake down on the table as Jin cuts up the pieces and you sit down to eat.

“Ahh this cake is so good holy shit. Did one of you make this?”

“Jin hyung made it.. but we all helped decorate it.” Your heart is filled with warmth at how much these 7 men care for you.

“Thank you all.. seriously. I was having such a horrible day but seeing all your smiling faces and having you here makes me feel so much better. I’ll never be able to repay the kindness you all show me.” You bow your head and suddenly you are wrapped up in a group hug from all of the members.

“You’re welcome y/n. You make Namjoon so happy all the time and we just want the same for you. Plus you’re so hard working and such a sweetheart you deserve it.” Jimin offers with a soft smile. You open up your presents and thank everyone for the items they have bought for you. After you all visit for a little bit longer the members start to leave one by one until it is just you and Namjoon left in the apartment. You close the door after Jungkook and walk over to the couch and practically collapse. You lay over to the side and rest your head in Namjoon’s lap. He smiles down at you and runs his fingers through your hair, instantly relaxing you.

“Thank you for today. Did you set all of this up?”

“I did.. I figured you had forgotten it was your birthday when you didn’t even respond to my birthday text this morning. So I wanted to make sure you had a good day when you came home from work.”

“You’re an angel Kim Namjoon. Seriously I was going to just give up on this entire week and lay in my bed and eat ice cream and sulk.” He chuckles at you and continues to rub your head, you let out a content sigh letting your eyes flutter closed.

“Well, you know you’ll always have me. I’m not going anywhere. If you’re ever having a bad day please let me know. Because I won’t ever give up on trying to make sure you are happy.” Your eyes open and you look up at Namjoon. His dimples are showing as he smiles at you and you reach a hand up and poke one of them. He smiles even wider and you can’t help yourself from sitting up and planting an appreciative kiss to his lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. When you two finally break apart you start to feel the tiredness from todays events finally taking over. You let your eyes drift close and your head droops over. Namjoon scoops you up in his arms and carries you to bed, tucking you in and kissing you one more time before crawling into bed next to you.

“Goodnight love. I hope you had a good birthday today. And I hope I get to spend many more with you.”

#BTS reaction #BTS reactions #BTS scenario #BTS scenarios #BTS imagine #BTS imagines #kim namjoon #rm #namjoon x reader #reader x namjoon #namjoon reaction #namjoon scenario #namjoon imagine #bts

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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865

All About the Letter T

Animals I Like: Turtles, tarsiers, tigers. Foods I Like: Tteokbokki, tilapia, tiramisu, tofu sisig, torikatsu, takoyaki, tempura, some kinds of tarts, truffle anything. I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Teacher, tailor, taxi driver, tricycle driver, TV producer, TV director. I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Thailand, Turkey, Turkmenistan, Tijuana, and Toronto so I can see Angel again. Sometimes I Feel: Tired, teary-eyed, timid, tense, threatened, and that my patience is being Tested, if it counts haha.

Music I Listen To: Troye Sivan, Twenty One Pilots, Tove Lo. Movies I’ve Seen: Trainspotting, Two for the Road, The Theory of Everything, Toy Story 1-4, Tangled, Tarzan, Trumbo, Titanic, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, This Is Spinal Tap, Tw*tches, TWILIGHT hahaha. Names I Like: Tabitha, Therese, Thea. TV Shows I Like: That’s So Raven? Hahaha not a big TV person. I can think of many others but only because they start with ‘The.’ And now, onto the random questions! 1. Do you get a tan or are you more likely to sunburn? I used to get sunburns as a kid but when I got older they stopped bothering me. As for my skin, it’s already on the tan side but sometimes I’ll still sunbathe because that I-just-came-from-the-beach kind of tan still hits different haha. 2. Have you ever slept in a tent before? Yeah but only for school activity when I was in grade school that made us stay in campus overnight. Other than for those instances I don’t think I’ve ever slept in a tent actually. 3. Have you ever looked through a telescope? Yup! In Grade 7 we had a stargazing activity and around midnight they allowed us to look through telescopes to look at the moon. The part of me who had wanted to be an astronaut and go to the moon was so, so satisfied that night. 4. Are you ticklish? Very. I hate getting tickled too and only my close friends are allowed to tease tickles with me, because otherwise I’m prone to kicking. 5. When did you lose your first tooth? It was in the middle of storytime when I was in Prep. Teacher had to close the book and get me a tissue while all the kids formed a circle to watch in awe, haha. It was nice being the center of attention for five minutes. 6. Have you ever broken your toe? Nah. Sprained an ankle, but I’ve never broken a toe. I imagine that would feel so awful. 7. When’s the last time you honestly threw a temper tantrum? It was some time in May when it was so unbelievably warm and humid at 8 AM and my dad refused to turn on the aircon. I don’t do well in hot weather and that day I happened to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, so I had all I needed to throw a tantrum haha. My tantrum that day was more on deadly silence than lashing out loudly, but still. 8. How many televisions are in your house? Four. 9. Which type of tape do you prefer? Masking. 10. Do you eat turkey on Thanksgiving? Do you even celebrate Thanksgiving? I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. 11. Have you ever used a thimble before? Nope. 12. Who’s always there for you, through thick and thin? Kimi. Can’t believe how long that dog has lasted with me, and he’s still going strong. He’s really the best. 13. Longest you’ve ever been stuck in traffic? Man my eye just twitched reading this lmao. I haven’t been stuck in traffic in SO LONG but this gave me war flashbacks!!! The longest time would be in 2018 when we were driving during a hurricane and ultimately got stuck with hundreds of other cars in a highway because the highway itself had started to flood and no one could get past it. We had to spend the night in that traffic jam and my parents took turns sleeping so they could make sure our car was safe. We were so lucky we got stuck in front of a Jollibee and Ministop, so it was easy to get food and go to the washroom whenever we needed to. 14. How many flat tires have you had? Never, thank goodness. I would have no clue what to do if one of my tires suddenly popped. 15. Have you ever ridden in a taxi before? Yes but only like once or twice because taxi drivers here are crooks. The taxis I’ve ridden in Shanghai and Singapore were a lot more pleasant. 16. Have you ever played Twister before? Yes, lots of good childhood memories attached to that game. My mom and Katreen’s mom planned out this thing where every Friday, it was the latter who was gonna pick me up from school along with Katreen, and we’d play at her place until 8 PM when my mom would get out of work and pick me up. One of the things we liked to do was play Twister. 17. Would you rather learn how to play the trombone, the trumpet, or the tuba? I suppose the trumpet? I think it’s the most basic one out of the three and thus a good brass instrument to start with. 18. Do you use a new towel every time you shower? No, not every time. 19. Would you be scared of a tarantula? I’d be scared solely because they’re venomous, but if I can be assured that they won’t attack then I’d gladly hold one for a few seconds. 20/ What temperature does the thermometer read right now? Like, my actual temperature? I don’t have a thermometer rn but I’ll probably be at 36C since that was what the thermometer showed me when I went to Cooper’s vet clinic last Friday haha. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#survey #surveys

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meow-face · 5 years

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Sanders Sides on The Sims PT2

I played the Sims all night last night and all day today so lots of new Sims shenanigans!

-My Sim briefly went home to buy a lot of new books (mostly skill books) for the sides. Now they can read some books and gain skills too. Nobody has read them yet though.

-I kept track of the lump of clay. (See the first post for the backstory on that.)

-Thomas had it for a long time, and he made a hexagon type shape thing. It sat in the kitchen for a while.

-Then Roman had it for a while. He smushed it around for a long time, then I found it in Patton's room after a while, and it was a bowl.

-Then Virgil had it for a little bit, and he just smushed it around.

-Then Roman grabbed it again, and I invited all of them to Mary Poppins's house, because I just placed her in the town and wanted to introduce my Sim. Roman brought the lump of clay along and was playing with it there.

-Then I brought them back home and I couldn't find it for a while; I was scared Roman left it at Mary's house. But then I saw Remus with it, and he still has it now. It has no shape yet.

-I invited Thomas and all the sides to the Avengers household that I made and placed in the town, and a couple minutes after we all got there, Thor set the barbecue on fire. Roman, Loki, Steve Rogers, and Black Widow all ran to extinguish it at the same time.

-I gave Logan a whole bunch of his own new books. I think he has read most of them now.

-The sink broke, and Thomas kept shooing my Sim away while she was repairing it to mop up the puddles it was creating because it was broken.

-Patton and my Sim have become best friends!!!

-Everyone pulled an all nighter and spent it in Thomas's room listening to Patton tell jokes.

-Thomas, Virgil, Logan, and Roman are all best friends with my sim too now!!! I'm working on Deceit and Remus still.

-Remus is sitting in Thomas's room watching TV with Deceit and Roman, and Remus has visible stink clouds coming from his armpits.

-Patton dances alone a lot.

-I just realized I forgot to give them a trash can, so when there's any trash, they just throw it on the ground outside. I discovered a small-ish pile. I discovered it because I heard a commotion outside and found Remus playing in it.

-Deceit has gone jogging.

-I invited the Avengers to come to the Sanders household and I haven't even knocked on the door yet, the energy is so chaotic.

-I think Thomas might be stuck behind a couch? I don't see how he could get out from there?

-Yup, I called him over to dance and he's stuck.

-I reset him and he's still stuck behind the couch.

-I quickly went over and took control of their household to rescue him. Thomas is free now!

-Logan is in his room eating grilled cheese on his bed and Steve Rogers is sitting next to him reading.

-Virgil walked through the counter to get away from a traffic jam of Sims in the kitchen. I think there are too many Sims in this house right now.

-The stereo is currently on the "Children's Lullabies" station.

-The lump of clay is sitting on a table in Thomas's room.

-Remus is dancing alone.

-Tony Stark has joined him.

-Remus stopped dancing so that Deceit could hug him.

-Thomas, Captain Marvel, Peter Parker and my Sim are dancing now.

-Oh gosh now Virgil is stuck behind the couch.

-I rescued Virgil and put a plant in that corner to try to prevent them from getting stuck.

-I kind of regret inviting the Avengers over now. There's way too many people here, and almost all of the Avengers need showers.

-There are currently 10 people in Thomas's bedroom watching TV and chatting. Steve Rogers is doing push-ups.

-Loki and Virgil aren't getting along too well.

-Logan and Tony Stark are chatting in Thomas's room while Thomas is sleeping.

-Peter Parker now has the lump of clay. (Not yours, mister!)

-The Avengers left, but they left Thor behind. He seriously waved as they left.

-Peter Parker make this really weird looking oval/lump with sticks sticking out of it with the lump of clay??? It's sitting in Thomas's bedroom.

-Roman, Virgil and Thomas are laughing in their sleep!

-Remus is snoring again.

-Logan is laughing in his sleep too!!!

-Thomas is awake! It is 4:21 AM in the game.

-Patton is awake!

-Remus woke up at some point and has visible stink clouds coming from his armpits again. He is standing on the third floor by the ledge of the stairs, staring at Thomas as he comes up.

-Deceit is up and is sitting on his bed eating grilled cheese.

-Thomas is cleaning up again.

-Virgil is up! So is Roman! Roman is eating grilled cheese on his bed, and Virgil is coming downstairs to get some.

-Logan is up!

-Roman just went into Deceit's room to clean up the dish from the grilled cheese Deceit ate!

-Remus is doing sit ups. He still has stink clouds.

-Thomas is standing on the balcony practicing Violin!

-Roman is standing in the middle of the hallway practicing guitar!

-Someone is CRYING under the covers on Virgil's bed. It is most likely Virgil but unconfirmed yet. As soon as he comes out I will make my Sim tell him a bunch of knock knock jokes. - UPDATE: It's Virgil. Knock knock jokes incoming, Virgil.

-Virgil is sad and I don't know why. My Sim is sitting with him on his bed and she's telling him jokes now.

-Remus has joined us on Virgil's bed.

-Virgil is happy now!!

-Remus is just laughing along.

-Virgil is playful now!!!

-Logan has joined us in the comedy show on Virgil's bed.

-Logan is laughing along now too.

-Virgil is telling his own joke!!

-Logan and Remus have left Virgil’s room.

-The lump of clay is on the floor outside the front door. Logan just picked it up.

-Virgil has left, leaving my Sim sitting on his bed alone. I just sent her downstairs to dance.

-Now Deceit, Remus, Virgil and my Sim are all dancing in the kitchen while Thomas makes scrambled eggs.

-Roman has joined in on the dancing.

-Deceit and Virgil are synchronized and I'm trying not to wake my family up by laughing too hard.

-Roman stopped dancing to give Thomas a hug.

-Logan still has the lump of clay.

-Logan has set the lump of clay down on the kitchen counter, right next to the "Chips and Salsa" that Roman is making.

-There goes Thomas cleaning up again! (Only for Roman to put another dirty bowl on the counter second later)

-Virgil made some mac and cheese for himself

-Roman has the lump of clay now!

-Deceit left a chopping board with some tomatoes on it on the counter.

-Virgil, Remus and Thomas are dancing to my Sim playing the guitar.

-Logan has joined them!

-Roman made a bunny out of the lump of clay! He's still holding it. - UPDATE: he put it on Patton's dresser!

-Patton has joined in on the dancing.

-Logan has taken the lump of clay. He has yet to smush the bunny. - UPDATE: he smushed the bunny.

-Virgil made a funny face/flashed crazy eyes to make Patton laugh.

-Logan has set the lump of clay back on the kitchen counter next to Deceit's chopped tomatoes.

-Roman has the lump of clay again.

-Patton somehow discovered a new breed of fish despite being nowhere near any water.

-Virgil has taken Deceit's chopped tomatoes and is cooking something with them. - UPDATE: he made a BLT sandwich. Meanwhile, Deceit is eating the mac and cheese Virgil made.

-Roman put the lump of clay on the counter. He didn't make anything with it.

I still have about 2 more hours to play before I have to go do things, but this is already longer than yesterday's, so I'll keep writing things down and just post another tomorrow, I guess! Until then, look forward to more shenanigans with Sim Thomas, his sides, and the lump of clay! ♥️

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides virgil #patton sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #sims #sims 4 #shenanigans #remus

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this-that-and-every-thing-else · 6 years

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Superman’s Kingdom: Spawns of Satan

A/N: So I came to realize that there is very little Goonies fan fiction out there and even less revolving around Brand. So, I’m starting this series revolving around him and his family. I feel like this one really started out strong but got less and less as I went so I do apologize for that. This is the most I’ve written in well over a year. If anyone would like to be tagged in the series, feel free to let me know. I may do a part 2 for this specific story if people want it.

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: Brand has been away for two weeks on a business trip and his wife Sadie is left alone and pregnant to look after their normally well-behaved children...this time they’ve managed to turn themselves into the Spawns of Satan.

Warnings: None really...its fluffy, some minor child annoyance.

Sadie Walsh was a patient woman. She had no problem with waiting in lines, she had no problem waiting for food at a restaurant or waiting at the doctor’s office. She didn’t even mind waiting to go out if her husband was watching a football game. What she didn’t have patience for, were her children misbehaving in the grocery store. She was very close to losing her cool. Her normally well behaved children had somehow been replaced with the spawn of Satan. Bryon, her normally adorable youngest, was currently running circles around his 5-month pregnant mother, while her oldest, Mikey, was trying for the fourth time to add candy to their cart even though he’d been told that he couldn’t have any. Yes, they had truly turned into little monsters these past few days.

Sadie took a deep breath and turned to Mikey. “Take the candy out of the cart. I told you no three times already.”

Mikey, looking up at his mother with a defiant glint in his eye, reached out to the shelf, grabbed a random bag of candy, and proceeded to toss it into the cart. “What did I just say Mikey? No. Candy! How many times do I have to tell you?” She was very close to just leaving the cart in the middle of the aisle and going home. Then again…they’d have no food for dinner tonight if she did that.

“But I want it! I want it and I want it now!” Mikey whined, stamping his feet and his face turning red. Sadie closed her eyes, counted down from ten and wondered who took her sweet 9-year-old and turned him into a 2-year-old demon. “Mikey, enough! You are 9 years old! Act your age! Now, take the candy out of the cart, if I have to tell you again you’ll be grounded and won’t be going to camp next week. Understood?”

Mikey huffed, stomped his foot once, but reached into the cart and removed the candy. Sadie sighed, hoping that this was the end of the issues for the day. The sound of breaking glass broke ended that though very quickly. Sadie looked towards the end of the aisle where Bryon was standing, looking down at a pile of glass and what looked to be jam seeping onto the tiled floor. Bryon looked up at his mother and then back at the mess. Thinking he was in bigger trouble than he actually was, he burst into tears. Not softly crying either, full on, large tears, snot running down his face and chest wracking sobs as if the world was ending. Yes, Sadie was losing her patience.

Sadie sighed, and proceeded to try to pick up her crying son, struggling to do so with her slight baby bump in the way, but eventually succeeding. She sat him in the cart and headed to the checkout where she continued to comfort her son and offered to pay for the broken jar. Thankfully the cashier was understanding and declined the offer. Small miracles do happen. She fought her way to her car, with one child still crying and the other trying to run into traffic. She quickly got them into the back seat and the groceries in the trunk before getting in the car herself and taking a moment to breath. Bryon was finally calm and Mikey was playing with whatever action figure he had left in the car.

The drive home would only take her 20 minutes, 20 minutes that she hoped would be peaceful. She must not have hoped enough because as soon as she turned out onto the road, the boys began fighting. Bryon wanted to play with Mikey’s toys, even though he had some of his own. Mikey wasn’t having any of that and now there was a full on tug of war in her back seat with two screaming children. Maybe if she ignored them long enough they’d stop…

Just as she was a block away from their home, Sadie heard the tell-tale sound of a hand connecting with skin, hard. With it came the pained screams of her youngest. Gritting her teeth, she pulled over to the side of the road, unbuckled her seatbelt and turned around to face her children. Bryon was holding a tiny hand on his face, with fat tears rolling down it and an angry red mark peeking out behind his hand. Mikey had his arms crossed and was glaring at his brother.

“Brandon Michael Walsh! You do NOT hit your brother! How would you like it if someone went around hitting you? Apologize right now.” Sadie was at the end of her rope. Her back hurt, her feet hurt, she was getting a headache and her children were being holy terrors. Thank god Brand was returning home tonight.

“But Mama he tried taking my army man! I don’t want him to have it!” The 9-year-old was now starting to sniffle, knowing very well that he was in big trouble. “Then use your words! It won’t hurt you to share with your brother. When we get home you are going straight to your room until dinner. After dinner you’re going right to bed. Do you understand me? I’ve had it with your nonsense today, both of you!”

With that, she turned back in her seat, buckled her seatbelt and carefully pulled back out onto the road and heading home. Thankfully, they pulled into their driveway two minutes later with no more incidents. Mikey was sulking with his arms crossed, and Bryon was rubbing at his face, glaring at his big brother.

Getting out of the car, Sadie had both of the boys grab a bag or two of groceries, while she grabbed the rest. The kids had waited on the porch for her to unlock the door. Once she had, they dropped the bags in the kitchen and headed for the living room, Bryon grabbing his Lego and Mikey turning on the television. Sadie sighed and shook her head, clearly the message hadn’t gotten across.

“Mikey, turn that off and go to your room, I told you that you would be staying there and I meant it. Bryon, I think you need to go down for a nap, head on upstairs and hop into bed, I’ll be up in a minute.” Thankfully for Sadie, with the exception of Mikey huffing, they both listened and headed on upstairs to their bedrooms.

Sadie dropped the groceries off in the kitchen and made her way upstairs to check on the kids. Mikey was sitting on his bed with a book in his hands. She was okay with that, if he was being quiet, she was happy. Bryon was lying in bed as he was asked and was curled up on his side. Sadie pulled down his blinds and read him a quick story to help him fall asleep, which thankfully didn’t take long. With both kids taken care of she was more than happy to make her way downstairs to put the groceries away…and then hopefully get to put her feet up, although she should start thinking about getting dinner ready.

When she finally got to sit, she did so in Brand’s favourite chair, curling her feet under herself and tipping her head back with her eyes closed and wishing he were here already. She couldn’t wait for Brand to get home that night. His presence these passed two weeks was sorely missed. The first week hadn’t been bad, the kids had behaved, looking forward to phone calls from their father every night, asking him all about Texas, was it as hot as they say? Was everything reallybigger there? Was the gym almost ready to open? When was he coming home? Did he buy them anything? The questions went on and on until he’d tell them to go to bed and he’d ‘read’ them their favourite book over the phone…because he was super dad and had it memorized. There’s a reason she called him her Superman…so many reasons actually.

The second week? It seemed like all hell had broken loose. He wasn’t able to call as much, the kids were constantly fighting, and Sadie was tired, she was sore, and she missed her husband. She never slept very well without him and he was a godsend when it came to the kids. She got lucky with him, he was very hands on with the kids both in keeping them busy, healthy and when they were sick he was right there, ready and willing to take on clean up, staying up all night and whatever else was thrown at him. And when the kids were misbehaving? He put on his stern face and made sure they knew why they were wrong in what they were doing, why they were being punished and just all around made sure they understood. He’d never been gone this long and it was taking its toll, on both the kids and herself. But, he had to be there to oversee the opening of the newest Walsh Fitness facility, it was only the third location to be opening and the first out of state.

The stress of the day, well really the last two weeks, caught up with her and instead of relaxing she found herself starting to cry a little. Overwhelmed, emotional and in need of a nap of her own, she was unable to stop herself. Later, she’d chalk it up to the pregnancy hormones, but for the moment she let herself cry it out. Normally, Brand would be right by her side, taking a lot of the load off of her, sometimes it scared her how much she relied on her husband, but that’s what marriage was about, sharing the burdens, the highs, the lows, and of course loving each other unconditionally. But without him and their children being tiny little…well, assholes? Yeah, she was just a little emotional and deserved a bit of a cry.

The crying didn’t last long; she couldn’t let it last long to be honest. One of the kids could catch her and then they’d be upset, plus she didn’t want to look horrible when Brand got home. Lord knows that when she cries she ends up looking like a mess. So, once she got it out of her system she turned the television on, it was some kid’s movie, but that was fine, it wasn’t like she didn’t usually end up watching that anyway with the kids.

Surprisingly she found herself sucked into the plot, it may have been for kids, but damn, Disney was good and she couldn’t deny it if she tried. She got so into the movie however that she didn’t notice the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, or the front door being opened and someone kicking off their shoes. Nor did she hear the sound of a gym bag being dropped on the floor by the staircase. She did however hear the creak of the floorboard next to her as Brand came into her line of vision, coming around the chair to kneel down in front of her.

Before he could even speak she launched herself at him with a squeal of delight, finding a burst of energy somewhere within the depths. Her arms wrapped around his neck in a fierce hug as his wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as she toppled them over and onto the floor. Murmuring a quick hello and an ‘I missed you,’ Brand slid a hand up from her waist, brushing her bump and over her breasts before cupping her neck and pulling her down for a much needed kiss. God he’d missed this.

Breaking away after a few moments Brand was more than happy to just stare at his wife. His wife who had clearly been crying at some point and looked utterly exhausted. He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb along her cheek. “You look awfully tired for someone who said she was doing just fine Princess.” Sadie leaned into his touch, almost nuzzling his hand like a dog or cat would.

“I’m okay Superman, honestly, I may have almost killed your children today though.” He frowned a bit, sitting them both upright but staying on the floor. With her arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around her waist, she told him what all went on this week with the children, from the attitudes to the near constant fighting and her just being tired and sore in general. The baby was certainly sapping her energy and taking care of the boys by herself clearly hadn’t helped. He felt horrible for leaving her alone, but he did have an idea to help her relax a little.

“Tell you what darlin’, why don’t you go on upstairs, get in a nice bath and just relax. I’m gonna ship the kids off to my parents or Mikey, get dinner started and we’ll have a weekend to ourselves. Just you, me and the bump.” Sadie just closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his and nodded with a smile. That sounded like a fantastic idea to her. Why she hadn’t thought of asking her in laws to take the kids in the first place she didn’t know. She’d blame that on pregnancy brain. The doctor said that might happen, and it had with the other two.

Speaking of doctors…

“Before I head on upstairs, I had that ultrasound appointment the other day.” Sadie was excited to tell him about this one, they’d wanted to find out the gender of this baby, just like they had the others and while she had wanted Brand to be there, well he had to work and he’d told her to go right ahead and she could tell him when he got home. Though, since there had been no girls born into the family for a few generations, it seemed like there was no reason to check, still they both agreed it would be good to know for sure.

“And? What’s the verdict?” He was looking at her with such anticipation on his face and was almost bouncing on the spot. She couldn’t hold back a grin.

“We broke the curse; you Superman must have super sperm because you’ve got yourself a little girl on the way.”

His eyes widened and he broke out in a huge grin, pulling her close once again and into a deep kiss, yes, he was definitely a happy man.

#the goonies #brand walsh imagine #brand walsh fanfiction #josh brolin imagine #the goonies fanfiction

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darlingnisi · 6 years

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Celebration Day 4 : VIP Edition

Part 3 here!

FDeluxe Panel

St Paul Peterson Eric Leeds Susannah Melvoin Jellybean Johnson

This was an interesting panel. The vibe was kind of interesting? I know people are adults, lol, but kind of a good bit of cursing here...and it kind of...went to a place toward the end? But we’ll get to it :

Paul Peterson Origin Story

18 years old. Gets phone call from Bobby Z. (They’re related but not by blood through marriage)

Walked in and played once in audition. Jellybean took him under his wing

Called back the next day and Prince was there.

The Wrecka Stow joke was done on him as part of his initiation before it was in Under the Cherry Moon

Susannah Melvoin

Had known P for a while

Lived in West Hollywood with Wendy and Lisa. The doors of the house were saloon doors so nobody had any privacy.

Prince would come over and spend the night on the couch sometimes

Susannah had first singing gig with Quincy Jones. Sang with Siedah Garrett, Kevin Dorsey, and others. Her audition with Q was singing “Until You Come Back to Me” (Aretha Franklin)

Played demo for Prince. P says “Awww that was adorable”.

Asked to join The Family

She was 18 he was 25.

She says it took 2 weeks to track The Family album

Eric Leeds

P called him for a name for a song he was writing “Purple Pain? Purple Plane?” Eric, “Maybe Purple Rain?”

Brother of Alan Leeds P’s tour manager

Atlanta Bliss and Eric are from Pittsburgh. They moved to Atlanta and shared a house

Eric was considering a career change at the time after touring with high profile acts, got a call from Alan saying P needed a sax player

Eric had no interest and wasn’t into P, but needed a gig.

Had no illusions or exceptions about the experience or Prince. Got along because he came to work.

On the Making of the Family album

The Family album was made when Purple Rain was coming out

They generally worked on their parts separately. Eric didn’t even meet the rest of the band for several months after he added his parts

Peterson had to really study P’s demos. He thought it would be easy. David Z and Jellybean had to coach him a lot to get the inflections right going line by line

They had rehearsals for a year and exactly one gig.

St Paul dipped after getting a deal with A&M records...left the camp “hence P’s ‘PAUL PUNK OF THE MONTH” chants during Parade tour

Last time he saw P was during a party for LP Music in the NPG music room (LP Music is an Eric Leeds band). P gave him a big hug.

On what happened to The Family

The Family was never signed to a label. Their deal wasn’t with WB it was a production deal with Prince.

Prince was in France and wasn’t around to manage so things fell through the cracks

Not having a contract made their relationship “adversarial with P” “Prince wanted to pay as little as possible and they want as much as possible as artists”

WB didn’t know how to handle them because they were not WB artists.

Resided in no man’s land and Prince got the proceeds.

On Fdeluxe

Sheila E called to do an alumni concert at the forum it went well. After, they were invited to play a Questlove Grammy party.

Taped a Fdeluxe album in Susannah’s garage.

Annnd the panel got weird around this time...

Susannah and Eric began riffing on each other. There was cursing? Susannah said the riffing was okay because she used to date Eric? Eric made some suggestive jokes for a while? I honestly wasn’t writing any of this down because I was like...

When they came around again, Susannah mentioned she was the one who connected Clare Fischer to P as he was cool with her father.

MPLS Early Years

Gayle Chapman Dez Dickerson Dr Fink Bobby Z

Gayle Origin Story

Her friends played her P’s album thinking she’d like it

She was listening to “For You” on her own one day and she heard a voice that said “In order for Prince to tour, he’s going to need a band” it scared her as she was alone in her apartment

She called Chazz and asked if he knew Prince. He said he was his cousin and was looking for band members. Set her up with an audition.

Went to house on France ave and jammed with them

Got the call 3 months later to join

Dez Dickerson Origin Story

His little sister had For You. Was “young and arrogant” and thought he could do better.

Answered call in local paper and auditioned at Del’s Tire mart

Jammed for 15 minutes, didn’t take a solo until asked and didn’t show off, falling back into the groove. P walked him out and asked him what he noted as mature questions. (He didn’t embellish more than this, but he does have a book that details this out well if you want to check it out).

Matt Fink Origin Story

His and Bobby Z’s mom did fundraisers for Mt Sinai when they were kids

Bobby played a demo for Fink one day. Fink “who’s the band?” Bobby “it’s one guy he plays all the instruments” Fink *scooby doo sound*

He bugged Bobby for an audition and got one

On their early look

A lot of jokes, lol

“We were soul searching”

“Looked like an explosion in a soup kitchen”

“A lot of spandex and gold”

“Looked like 6 people who had never met each other”

Other stories

The Rebels was the first side project by P. If I Love You Tonight was originally recorded by Gayle. P told her to cry to get the emotion out of her while singing. The other guys also mooned her because pranksters.

Gayle got her hair “braided and beaded” before coming out to film shows in LA to promote the Prince album. The label immediately took her to get her hair done after. She got no sleep as they finished with her at 5am and she was due to the venue at 10am. “I looked like a white Donna Summer”

During the Midnight Special taping, the staff was “smashed”

For the Dick Clark show, Prince was on antihistamines and had a hard time talking after dancing and such

Told the story about Prince and Dez having an interview with Jon Bream and Bobby losing it over the lack of condiments “There’s no mayonnaise...” and it escalated including a flipped table and an almost flipped couch with Jon Bream sitting on it. P and Dez calmly continued the interview talking about serious topics with straight faces.

First time at First Avenue was to promote Dirty Mind. It was still Sams at the time. They finally connected to a local white audience with that show.

P drove a Jeep at one point

P had jokes on his answering machine that he would rotate. An example “Get off the phone you punk mother [machine beep]

Recounts wheelchair story of P being wheeled to the middle of busy foot traffic, sitting quietly, then slowly falling out of the chair. Sometimes people would help him back in the chair...he’d never say anything and play it straight.

Note : This panel was probably my favorite one. I’d heard most of the stories before, but so glad they spent time on the pre-revolution band. Just missed Andre being there...

Concert Screening Montreal 2015

Rooocked it!!!!

Setlist for the curious

F Deluxe Concert

This was very funky...but this was an odd choice to close out Celebration. Most of the crowd sat during most of this show...appreciate Susannah’s body rolls though! They were inspiring!

Set list

High Fashion Gaslight Sanctified Screams of Passion Nothing Compares 2 U “Come Go with me” lyric River Run Dry Desire Lover Drummers and Healers "Songs going down around the world” lyric Mutiny

And that was it! There was a thanks from Wally and he shouted out Purple Underground, Rodney Fitzgerald, and Michael Dean (Yay Prince Podcast) in a kind of awkward way that thanked them for the opportunity and we were on our way. (I imagine that what was kind of confusing to people who didn’t know who those people were but...)

And so concluded Celebration 2018!

#prince celebration 2018 #purple homecoming 2018

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newstfionline · 6 years

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Baghdad gets its groove back

By Liz Sly, Washington Post, Aug. 23, 2018

It’s nearing midnight on a Thursday and the streets are jammed with traffic. There are people heading home after dinner with family and friends, and people for whom the night has just begun.

At the newly opened Ibrahim Basha club, the party is just getting going. A Syrian singer with waist-length blond hair and sky-high pink heels is singing Arabic hits, accompanied by a talented Iraqi musician alternately playing the saxophone, the piano and the oud. When she breaks into old Iraqi favorites, the mostly male customers sitting at tables strewn with whiskey bottles get up and dance dabka, the traditional Arabic style that involves crescendos of rhythmic stomping.

Fifteen years after the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq plunged the country into a cycle of insurgency, dysfunction and war, Baghdad is undergoing a renaissance of sorts.

The insurgency still simmers and the dysfunction is as pronounced as ever. Iraqis angry at their leaders’ corruption and failure to deliver basic necessities such as electricity and water have spent the summer protesting in many parts of the country. There is little in the way of optimism among the wearied residents of a war-weary city that has been crushed too many times in the past to dare hope for a brighter future.

But for the first time in as long as anyone can remember, at least Baghdad isn’t at war. Although there are still explosions, and kidnappings are a problem, the relentless suicide bombings that deterred all but the hardiest revelers have abated since the territorial defeat of the Islamic State last year.

And the city is starting to breathe a little easier.

A more relaxed approach from lawmakers has allowed entertainment to flourish. A measure banning alcohol was voted down last year.

Cafes, clubs and bars are proliferating. There are shopping malls with cinemas showing the latest releases, including a glitzy glass enormity with a Dubai-style helicopter pad on the roof. There are restaurants on the river and plays at the theater and comedy nights at the coffeehouses.

On Fridays, poets recite their works and artists show off their paintings in the Ottoman-era gardens surrounding Mutanabbi Street, named for a 10th-century Iraqi poet who lived when Baghdad was at the epicenter of the civilized world.

The city still has a long way to go if it is to reclaim its past glories as a capital of culture and entertainment, Iraqis say. But there’s a widespread consensus that at no time in the past 40 years, since Saddam Hussein acquired absolute power and led Iraq into a series of ruinous wars, has Baghdad been as free and as fun as it is now.

“Every Iraqi has reached the conclusion that it is important to have as much fun as you can before you die,” said Alaa Kahtan, a theater director who had come to Coffee and Books, one of Baghdad’s hip new cafes that attracts a mostly literary crowd.

The absence of bombings is not the only reason for the new sense of freedom, Kahtan said. The Shiite militias and their associated political parties, which surged to prominence in the wake of the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in 2003, are now more powerful than ever. They won big in the elections this spring and are set to play a leading role in whatever government emerges.

Their ascent, however, has also propelled the militias away from the petty intrusions into people’s lives that once characterized their attempts to assert authority, such as forcing women to cover their hair and blowing up liquor stores. A move to ban alcohol by the Shiite religious parties that dominate parliament was voted down last year.

“The militias have left these things behind and have ambitions to a bigger role. They don’t care what you wear or if you drink alcohol,” Kahtan said. “I feel more free in my theater, more free in my passions. I have a girlfriend, and I can hug her in the street.”

There is no guarantee the current mood will last, said novelist Ahmed Saadawi, who was sitting at a nearby table discussing a cover for the next edition of his book “Frankenstein in Baghdad.”

“All this could be reversed by the politicians, who have shown their foolishness time and again,” he said. “But we hope they have learned from the tragedies that went before, because neither Sunnis nor Shiites nor Kurds have the energy for another conflict.”

He credits ordinary Iraqis and their zest for life, rather than the inept government, for the new spirit. The surge of sectarianism that followed the 2003 invasion, when Sunnis and Shiites sought refuge in their religious identities and set about slaughtering one another, was an aberration, and Iraqis are reverting to their true selves, he said.

“There is something about the Iraqi character that dates back thousands of years,” he said, noting that historians credit Iraq with the invention of liquor some 7,000 years ago. “It is rooted in the Iraqi culture to have fun. Iraqis aren’t spiritual. They like to party.”

Some of the partying has a distinctly sordid air. The clubs lining Abu Nawas Street, which runs along the Tigris River across from the heavily fortified Green Zone--and is named for a beloved Iraqi poet who lived in the 8th century and wrote about wine and sex--are strictly men-only. Men pay steep prices to drink alcohol in the company of hostesses, and female customers aren’t allowed.

One of the somewhat more exclusive locales is the recently reopened bar on the rooftop of the Palestine Hotel, once a hangout for Baathist officials and now frequented by members of Iraq’s new elite. They pay $100 for bottles of whiskey and can choose company for the night from among the heavily made-up young women seated around the bar.

A doctor nursing a beer alone in one of the cushioned booths confided that he didn’t like the place but said there aren’t many better alternatives to grab a drink.

Many women are benefiting from the more liberal environment, too. Though most of the clientele at the Ibrahim Basha club were men, a middle-aged couple sat smoking shisha pipes and a family including women and children clapped to the music.

At the upscale Shawarma restaurant earlier that night, an Iraqi singer entertained a majority-female crowd, some wearing headscarves, some not, some in all-women groups. They tapped their feet and wiggled their shoulders and looked like they wanted to get up and dance, but didn’t.

Most Iraqis don’t drink, and it is cafes, where women can go out alone and freely mix with men, that have become the social focus. Until a few years ago, the dangers on the streets deterred families from allowing their daughters to go out alone, said Mariam Sultan, 24, who has a master’s degree in medical chemistry and works in a lab. She had come with a group of girlfriends to the Faisaliyah cafe, which opened last year and draws a mixed crowd with its comedy nights and live rock bands.

“People have become much more free in their attitudes,” she said.

For people who can’t afford cafes or bars, the Jadriyah bridge over the Tigris River serves as a sort of impromptu party venue. Typically, they come with cans of beer, turn on their car radios, and sometimes there is dancing.

The bridge is said to be the coolest spot in Baghdad because of the breeze that wafts down the river, and families come, too, especially in the summer when temperatures top 100 degrees even in the middle of the night.

“It’s too hot at home, so we come here, because there are lots of people and we can relax,” said Imad Salman, 50, who was standing on the bridge with his wife and three children. Thursday night had become Friday morning, a bit before 2 a.m.

Starting in mid-July, police have sought to stamp out alcohol consumption in the open air, and the bridge has become a target. As Salman spoke, a police patrol arrived. “Run, run, the police are coming,” someone shouted farther down the bridge. Everyone jumped into their cars and sped away.

Half an hour later, they were back. The police came back, too, and the people scattered again.

It was close to 3 a.m. and time for us to call it a night.

#Iraq #Baghdad nightlife

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lindoig8 · 3 years

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Hughenden - 29 July-1 August

Thursday

(It's weeks since I have been able to post anything. We have rarely had a signal and never good enough to set up a hotspot and connect my PC in order to post anything. The only time when it might have been possible was when we were in Alice Springs for several hours – but I forgot to take my PC. It was in the van and we only took the car to Alice. And I don’t have a lot of photos to post so there will be a lot of text coming up!)

As I said, we didn’t really enjoy Winton this trip so we were glad to be leaving it behind but first, we had to have our Anderson plug replaced (at more than twice the price of the previous two) and to put a bit more diesel in the tanks – and then we were off.

It was an uneventful 200-odd kilometres to Hughenden where we were visiting to experience it’s Country Music Festival – another unlikely activity for us. Perhaps the thing that stood out from the drive here was that we saw a few sheep – the first for at least 10,000 kilometres. The literature indicates that the area we have been in for the past few days is sheep country, but we have still been seeing almost exclusively cattle.

The van park here is fairly full (although only part of it seems to be open) and it is exactly as I wrote a few days ago: very narrow short sites, no pull throughs, with cars necessarily being parked on both sides of the narrow driveways. It is almost impossible to reverse into most sites and all have high curbs on both sides of the wheel tracks so there is no room for error. We simply couldn’t get on to any of the designated sites so eventually parked on what appears to be a roadway, but the manager said it was OK. Once we put our awning out, the ‘roadway’ was effectively closed. Then a camper reversed in behind us and put its awning out too.

We set up and had a cuppa and went out to explore. We drove around town and ended up at the Information Centre where we got our questions answered and collected some brochures. One question was about a massive array of solar panels we saw near the stockyards. It must be at least a kilometre square and is crammed with solar panels. The Information Centre woman said that there was another one on the other side of town too (we saw it a few days later – even more massive) and neither of them have ever worked – not even for a minute she said. They were supposed to feed power to the grid with no benefit whatsoever to the locals who seem fairly opposed to them – probably hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of gear that will simply sit there abandoned forever.

I asked about birding and the woman at the counter and her partner are apparently birders too and she told me two places to go but I am not sure that I will take it up. She said the best one was a walk along the river that is best immediately after dawn when I want to be comfortable in bed. The other one is at their artificial lake, preferably at dusk, when we hope to be enjoying some country music. We drove around the lake today and it didn’t inspire me. I saw nine species but all birds you expect to see in a public recreation area. The town’s official bird list is pretty impressive for all that.

Friday

We did a load of washing in the morning and it was all dry by soon after lunch. Apart from that, we sat in the van out of the heat and worked on our blogs and photos pretty much all day. There is always a few emails to answer and bills to pay, so access to the Hotspot provided by my phone is always essential. Many van parks offer free Wi-Fi, but it is nearly always open and even if it works (less than 50% of the time), it is always inexorably slow.

We had booked to attend the opening concert of the Music Festival at night and we could buy food and drink at the venue so we did that. Not quite what we would have eaten if we had prepared it ourselves, but tasty enough. We had BBQ and salad, plenty of it and not expensive, but it was all unfortunately cold. Catering for about a hundred people must be difficult.

Robbie Katter is the State member for that electorate and he opened the Concert – and then performed – sang and played the guitar. It was quite a fun evening, definitely a small country event, but better than Hicksville. There was a really good band (steel guitar was excellent) and three main performers. One was really quite good and the other two acceptable but perhaps not quite destined for immediate stardom. Having said that, it was an enjoyable night and we went away with a few familiar tunes repeating in our heads.

Saturday

It was a fairly full day, despite us only spending 2 or 3 hours at the Music Festival.

We drove out to Porcupine Gorge in the morning. It is a very impressive gorge – 27 kilometres long according to the sign near the parking area, but over 100 kilometres according to other material we have read. We only went to the lookout at the top but there is a camping area at the bottom, but accessibility is a problem – a rough track in and a long difficult walk from the camping area to the gorge itself. It is a massive rift in the ground, I think it is 230 metres deep from memory, with a river flowing through it, obviously continuing to cut the gorge ever deeper.

We drove back into town, but just before we got there, we detoured 98(?) kilometres on the Basalt Byway, a big loop west and north of town. Again, very impressive, with unusual rocky tors and interesting structures: a really lovely peaceful drive, all on good gravel and virtually no other traffic – most enjoyable.

We arrived back in town just before 4pm and went straight to the Music Festival. Competition was well on its way, but we enjoyed nearly 3 hours of music, from about 8-year-olds up to adults – with relative quality reflecting skill levels and experience. It was quite entertaining and we enjoyed just relaxing and soaking it all in – very much Country and a lot of fun. Senator Bob Katter (Robbie’s father) was there for the duration sitting close to us. There were a few stalls with wares for sale and Heather struck up a conversation with a woman selling jams, sauces and similar goodies and we made a couple of purchases and they swapped recipes for a couple of items. (We were refuelling the next day – automated 24-hour self-service – when I noticed the same woman in the car next to us driving away. She lives just around the corner but hadn’t used the automated system before and was a bit hesitant about it all. She parked in the middle of the road and Heather went over for a chat (quite a long chat) and the woman really appreciated it. She is apparently quite lonely and was pleased that we recognised her and that Heather took the time for a chat.)

Sunday

We started by getting fuel and bread and then went fossicking about 17 kilometres up the Porcupine Gorge road. This whole area, including most of Queensland and other areas, was originally under a shallow sea and there were myriads of creatures fossilised when the land rose and the sea abated. We had read about the gully where people had found thousands of belemnite fossils – little creatures believed to be the antecedents of squid and cuttlefish. It was very hot, but we dug through a lot of compacted soil and Heather found two of them. Doesn’t sound a lot, but given that they are between 140 and 110 million years old, we were hugely satisfied with our find. We could have kept digging and maybe found some more but it was very hot and dusty in full sun so we left some for other prospectors to find.

We then drove back to town and turned east for 40-odd kilometres to Prairie – a town that is really nothing much more that a quaint old pub. Of course, we had the obligatory coldie and chatted with the owners, probably brothers although very unalike, both a bit brusque and outspoken, but fun to talk to anyway.

We ate our lunch outside the pub and then headed south to the Eromanga Sea Byway, a good gravel road about 50 clicks south of Hughenden. We didn’t see the sea but it was fascinating to imagine that all those years ago, we would have needed a ship or a submarine to traverse the track, dodging belemnites, pliosaurs and zillions of other marine creatures along the way. This Byway took us back to the Winton-Hughenden road and thence back to Hughenden. Our travels on the day took us a bit over 200 kilometres with the van in tow so we decided to top up with fuel again before leaving town – the fuel there was cheaper than anywhere else in the area and we didn’t want to buy more until we reached Boulia.

We then headed due west toward Richmond but the afternoon was drawing to a close and we decided not to go on to Richmond in the dark. Finding places to camp was not easy so we ended up in a rest area 48 clicks short of Richmond – along with at least 14 other rigs. We really try to avoid these crowded places but we didn’t have a lot of choice and we can’t stop people pulling up beside us once we are set up anyway. It was a really hot night and didn’t cool off much at all – well into the 20s I reckon all night and not easy to sleep.

0 notes

olicitysecretsanta · 6 years

Text

The Little Green Secret

Dear Amie ( @purselover2)

I have to tell you that your prompt inspired my muse and the idea got away from me. The story is set in season 2 and pretty much everything in season 1 happened, except 2 things: Felicity never discovered Oliver's alter ego (as you requested); and Tommy is alive. I hope this extra long fic meet your expectations.

And I have something extra for you. I love listening music while I'm writing, so I made a playlist for this fic. You can listen it on Spotify (link).

I wish you a beautiful holiday with lots of cheers and many more gifts coming your way.

Your Santa, Mare ( @green-arrows-of-karamel)

Rating: teen and up Warnings: mild graphic depiction of violence AN: I want to thank to the best partner ever @tdgal1 for beta-ing this. You rock!

December 31, 2013.

Neither the air of celebration for the year's end, the colorful decoration, or the crowd does something to break Oliver's thoughts. He looks at his watch for the umpteenth time in the last hour. It is seventeen past eight, and she has not arrived.

Oliver's anxiety is palpable, manifesting his unrest through his fidgeting fingers. Most people present at Verdant miss Oliver's nervous tic. They're lost in the upbeat music and booze. However, Diggle notices it and he knows why Oliver is so twitchy. Digg approaches his boss with the intention of providing him a friendly reassurance.

Oliver Queen is so much more than his employer to John Diggle. Besides being the person that John works for, he's also his friend, a brother in arms. Their friendship goes deep, and it started the day when John accepted to join Oliver's crusade to save the city. It has passed over a year since that day. During that time, Diggle has seen Oliver change from the angry man bent to carry out his father's dying wish at any price to somebody who wants to do good; a hero who truly cares for Starling City's people. Some of that change has come from Oliver himself, with a little nudging from Diggle.

However, there has been another and more powerful source of bright encouragement, which it's also the cause of Oliver's present restlessness: Felicity Smoak. The sweet savvy IT expert found her way under Queen's skin since the first day they met, and Digg has been the constant witness of their unresolved sexual tension. They say that they're just friends. John wonders how long it will take Oliver and Felicity to realize that they are only fooling themselves.

"She'll be here," Diggle says.

"Who?"

John glares at Oliver, playing coy doesn't go well with him. It has been impossible for Diggle to ignore the way his friend gets with anything related to the girl. "C'mon, man, I know you're waiting for Felicity."

With a sigh, Oliver relents, "It's weird that she hasn't arrived yet. I got a text from her about ninety minutes ago, telling me that she was ready and would be here soon. She's not at the club, so where is she?"

Before Diggle can suggest Oliver ring Felicity, he takes his cell phone from his jacket and makes the call. As the seconds tick by, it's clear that Felicity is not answering her phone.

Oliver sighs frustratedly. "She's never more than five feet from her phone. Something's wrong," he says as he tries again.

The transformation is evident, and Oliver is no longer in his sociable playboy persona. His demeanor changes to a much dangerous one. Now, he turns into The Arrow.

Diggle trusts Oliver's instincts as much as his own, so he also goes on high alert. "I can go to her place to check if she's there," he offers.

"No, I'll go."

Both head to the back of the club to scurry down the lair, but they run into Oliver's younger sister, Thea. This summer, while Tommy was recovering from his injuries suffered during the Undertaking, Thea stepped in to co-manage the club. Oliver is happy that his sister has been such a great support for his best friend. That's contributed to the healing of Tommy’s physical and emotional trauma.

Tommy isn't the only one licking his wounds. The three of them —Tommy, Thea, and Oliver— are still dealing with what their respective parents, Malcolm and Moira, did. It has been hard, but supporting each other makes it somewhat easier.

Thea looks at Oliver and Digg with her brows bumped together in a scowl. "Whoa, Ollie! Where's the fire? Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah, um, I— I need to go. I'm taking the back entrance."

Thea's frown deepens. "Something happened?"

Oliver clears his throat, "I'm not sure. I gotta go."

Not wanting to waste more time and ignoring his sister, he unlocks the door and goes down to the lair with John right at his heels.

Ten minutes later, Oliver is out in the street, suited up and hell-bent to find out what's wrong with Felicity. With every minute that passes, the feeling of something bad happening to her gets stronger. Oliver rides his bike down the same path Felicity should have taken going to Verdant from her place. As he navigates the nightly traffic, he can't help but feel guilty. He convinced Felicity to go Verdant that night to celebrate the New Year.

Oliver knows that getting involved with her, even as friends, puts her in danger. That's why, just like his family, Oliver hasn't told her about his alter ego. He's pretty sure she doesn't believe any of the awful lies he tells her every time he seeks her help, but so far, Felicity hasn't called him out on them.

Neither has she ever refused to help him every time he goes to her as The Arrow. Her trust in him stuns and humbles him.

If he is honest, Oliver must admit that lately, he had asked her help, even when either he or Diggle on their own could figure out whatever Oliver needed. He has tried to keep his distance from her, to ignore the feelings she evokes in him, but Felicity Smoak is a force of nature. She won't be denied. Oliver is a moth and she's the fire to which he flies toward.

"She's still not answering her phone," Diggle informs him through the comms.

"Keep trying. I'm two blocks away from her place," Oliver replies as he speeds up to full throttle.

By the time Oliver pulls over at a side of the average short building where Felicity lives in, his stomach is knotted painfully. He goes to her apartment without being seen. Oliver finds the door closed but the knob is smashed. Obviously, someone broke in. Pushing it the door open, he walks into the cozy apartment. Pain, fury, and fear wash over him seeing the place trashed further confirming his earlier suspicion.

"Felicity! Felicity, are you here?!" he calls for her, but deep in his bones, Oliver knows she's not there. He sweeps through the place and finds it empty. Felicity's phone is thrown carelessly on the floor, with all the unanswered calls from Oliver and John displayed. The evidence of something bad happening to her keeps piling up. Oliver knows she would die first before knocking around any piece of technology, especially her phone.

While he picks it up, Oliver reports to John, "Dig, she's not here. Someone broke in and probably took her."

"Who?"

"I don't know, but we need to find her. Now!"

"We will."

The question is how. After over a year knowing Felicity, he knows she keeps mostly to herself and there is nobody he can think of that would hurt her. Oliver tries to keep his head cool, but the thoughts of Felicity in the hands of who only God knows makes it almost impossible. The little control he has evaporates when he sees blood on the coffee table and floor. By the looks of it, someone hit their head with the table's corner.

In other circumstances, he would take a sample of the blood and ask Felicity to analyze it to confirm to whom it belongs. Now, that's out of the question.

"Oliver?" Digg says through the comms. "You need to go to Queen Consolidated now. There's been a break in."

"What? No, I can't. Call the SCPD. Let them handle it. Our priority is to find Felicity."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I checked the security footage when the alarm went off. A group of armed men broke into the building, overpowering the guards. They have a hostage with them. It's Felicity."

John hasn't finished talking when Oliver darts out of the apartment, and then he's riding away on his Ducati. The distance between Felicity's place and QC's headquarters seems endless to Oliver, even if they're only a few blocks apart. As he drives like if the devil is after him, John tells him the exact location of where the perpetrators and Felicity were before they jammed the signal.

Losing the visual is inconvenient, but going in blindly doesn't bother Oliver. He knows the schematic of the building to perfection. He still remembers it from the time he broke in a few years before while working for Amanda Waller.

For a second, he let the memory of that event rush through his mind. Little did he knew then that the woman who almost caught him in his mom's office that night would be the same that now captivates his heart like nobody has done before. That the babbling cute blonde who made him smile for the first time in years became the light in his world of darkness. A safe harbor in the middle of his tempestuous life.

The memory fades and as it does, Oliver's determination grows stronger. He'll make the criminals pay. Oliver knocks out the first two goons he finds in the perimeter with a handful of punches and kicks. They should consider themselves lucky. Tonight, right at that moment, Oliver doesn't care about the no-kill vow he made months ago. He has kept his word all this time, but with Felicity's safety in jeopardy, he won't have reservations about taking a life to protect her. He'd do whatever it takes.

The farther Oliver goes in the building, the more mercenaries he finds. He defeats them, one by one, by hitting, snapping bones, and knocking arrows off his bow. With the grace of a dancer, Oliver dodges punches and bullets, getting closer to where Felicity is.

"We got visual back. The cameras are on again."

Digg sounds perplexed by the sudden development, but Oliver grins knowingly. He has no doubt that the little feat is the work of Felicity and her amazing expertise. She doesn't know he's there or that Diggle is watching, but despite whatever these men want her to do, she's making sure they won't get away with it.

Oliver is not happy with her putting herself at more risk if she's discovered, but he respects her bravery. Felicity Smoak is truly a remarkable woman.

"Where is she?" Oliver asks Diggle.

"In the IT department, her office."

*******************************

"Why is it taking so long?!"

Felicity stops and dangles her fingers over the keyboard to glare at the Neanderthal with a gun next to her, which all the men called him Titus. The giant mountain of muscles, not to mention the semi-automatic weapon in his hand, put a healthy dose of fear in her. So does his friend by the door. However, Titus also angers Felicity. He not only breaks into her home, kidnaps her, and forces her to steal valuable intel, dangerous projects, from Queen Consolidated's servers, but now he also dares to rush her.

"I'm going as fast as I can," she says.

She could get the information they want in a blink of an eye if she wants to, but Felicity is stalling. Of course, she has enough self-preservation not to tell him that. She’s only hoping that the breadcrumbs trail she left for security… somebody, anybody… to pick up is suspicious enough so they alert the police.

She has already put the CCTV back online. If her plan to alert the outside world fails, at least she knows that there's enough evidence to catch the men later. Felicity doesn't need her certified genius mind to know that as soon as she delivers what they want they will kill her. They uncovered their faces once the surveillance cameras went off.

Felicity wishes they hadn't. She can identify them, therefore she becomes a liability if she's left alive. They won't hesitate to end her life.

"Hurry up!" Titus growls as he grabs and shoves her against the desk.

Felicity whimpers out loud as pain explodes in her shoulder. She got hurt trying to escape the men in her apartment and she got knocked off against her coffee table. She doesn't think anything is broken, but it does hurt like hell. The sharp ache slows her typing, but she won't complain about it tonight. It's buying her precious time.

Her head hurts too, but at least, the cut in her forehead stopped bleeding.

"You got five minutes to get me those blueprints or I'll shoot you!"

Felicity gulps hard in fear, but she musters the courage to throw daggers with her eyes at the guy. She's scared for her life, but giving away the original design schematics for the earthquake machine that destroyed The Glades last May is something she cannot do. She simply can't. Five hundred and two people are dead because of it, and Felicity doesn't want to be the cause of more death on her conscious.

She’s about to give a sassy retort that most likely would get her shot when the power goes off. The sudden darkness takes her by surprise, so for when she realizes it's the perfect opportunity to escape it’s too late. Emergency power comes on and she loses her chance. The emergency lights throw sinister shadows around the place, making her situation worse. The silver lining is that now she can't hack into any server.

A few seconds later, a big commotion breaks out nearby her office. Felicity hears gunfire and cries of pain, announcing the arrival of her savior. It has to be him.

The Arrow is here.

Titus sends the other guy by the door to investigate before turning to her. Yanking Felicity by her hair, he forces her to get on her feet and uses her as a human shield. Holding her ponytail tight, Titus presses the gun's muzzle against her side. He knows too who's coming, and will use Felicity as leverage.

"If I were you I'll be running as fast as I could," she advises. "The Arrow is going to get you."

"Shut up!!"

Felicity whimpers when Titus yanks her hair harder. Keeping up with his tugging is making the pain in her head and shoulder worse. The struggle stops when Titus realizes they're not alone anymore. Felicity gasps in awe and sighs in relief when the most notorious vigilante of Starling City appears by the door. His green-hooded form is imposing and fearsome. Mysterious and lethal.

Felicity admits that before when the vigilante first appeared in town, she thought, as many others did, that he was a criminal. Felicity almost died of a heart attack the first night he appeared in her office to ask her a favor. How he knew who she is and what her hacking skills are is still a mystery she's dying to unveil. Him and her boss, Oliver Queen, used to compete in which would ask the craziest things of her, using the worst excuses ever. If she didn't know better, she would say they are somehow related.

But that's ridiculous. How could a billionaire playboy and a vigilante be family?

In the end, it doesn't matter to her. In spite of their caginess and lies, she trusts in both.

Somehow, that trust is why her boss became her good friend. Despite their despaired backgrounds and experiences of life, Oliver is someone who is easy to talk to. He never makes her feel weird about her babbling or quirkiness. Felicity never feels she needs to dumb down the things she says because he doesn't get offended by her high IQ. Being honest, she suspects that Oliver is more intelligent than what he let see. Although, what Felicity likes the most of him is his huge, beautiful heart. Oliver Queen is a good man.

It's the same kind of trust she feels for The Arrow and why now she waits anxiously for his nocturnal visits. No matter what he asks of her, she's glad to help him because she knows the truth. He is a hero, and in a way, it makes her one by proxy. Felicity likes to think that it's just like when she was in a hacktivist group during her senior year at MIT. Unexpectedly, they're kindred spirits. He's saving the people living in Starling City and so does she.

However, tonight is her turn to be saved.

The Arrow steps in her office, having an arrow nocked on his bow ready to shot and aiming for Titus. He shifts his eyes to her for less than a second. It's time enough to let Felicity know that he won't let anything happen to her. She believes in him.

"Put the gun down," The Arrow demands.

Felicity and her captor shiver, but she suspects that it's for different reasons. Titus trembles in fear, knowing himself without an escape. On the other hand, Felicity does it in desire. She can't help but find the modulated growl incredibly hot. She blushes as inopportune and inappropriate thoughts about The Arrow talking dirty to her cross her mind. What's wrong with her? She's in the middle of a hostage situation, she could be killed at any second now, and all her mind can focus is in her crush for the vigilante!

"You come closer and I'll kill her!!"

The threat is startling enough to pull Felicity back to reality. She grimaces and grunts, feeling the gun being pressed harder against her side. Her discomfort is noticed by The Arrow. For the first time, she is truly scared, not for herself but for the man holding her captive. It's subtle, but the change is there. The hooded hero's demeanor turns 100% virulent. His next actions confirm Felicity's assessment.

Deaf to the threat, the vigilante steps closer, keeping his aim steady. He's deadly focused. "If you kill her there would be nothing stopping me from killing you."

The warning is taken seriously, so Titus changes his tactics and that's the final mistake. Felicity comes with a plan as she feels him withdrawing the gun from her side to aim it at The Arrow. She doesn't think it twice to push the weapon away with her left hand while she jabs her right elbow back into Titus' ribs as hard as she can.

Felicity's gravity center tilts as Titus loses his grip on her, making her topple down to the floor. A cry of rage fills the room. She looks up and Titus is aiming the weapon at her. With a harrowing certainty, Felicity knows she's going to die. Closing her eyes, she hears the gun going off several times.

When the pain she expects to feel never comes, Felicity blinks her eyes open and looks down at herself, searching for bullet holes and blood. By a miracle, she's unharmed. Bullets might not have killed her. Feeling someone's hand on her shoulder does. She screeches and shrinks away instinctively.

"Hey, hey. Shh…" The Arrow says softly through his voice modulator as he kneels beside her. He squeezes her arm, offering Felicity comfort and reassurance, "It's okay. You are safe."

Felicity looks at him, with burning gratitude filling her heart. As usual, his hood conceals his features. She wishes there was more light to see him better, but also recognizes the importance of keeping his identity as a secret.

"Thank you," she says as her emotions clog her throat. "I… I thought that he was going to… that I was as good as dead."

Out of character, The Arrow cups her cheek with his hand. A strong and deadly hand that touches her with stunning gentleness. Felicity is not sure what it means, but enjoys it while it last. He usually keeps his distance from her in each of his visits, but Felicity has the feeling that tonight The Arrow needs the touch as much as she does.

Or maybe, it's the hit on her head has her confused. She's reading too much into this.

Either way, Felicity savors the warmth of his leather-sheathed hand on her face.

"Don't worry. He won't hurt you or anyone else anymore."

His words make her shift her eyes to look beyond The Arrow, finding Titus' immobile body splayed on the floor with three arrows sticking out of his chest.

"Is he… he's dead, isn't he? You killed him because of me, Not that I think I deserve to, I just noticed, oh, I’m sorry." she weeps softly. The horror of the situation catches up with her. Last year, the Arrow dropped a lot of bodies, but since The Undertaking Felicity noticed that he doesn't kill anymore. She isn't sure why, but she has the feeling that he has a powerful reason for it. And now, he had killed again for her.

"Don't think about that, okay. Let's get you out of here."

When she grabs his arm as he helps her to get on her feet, Felicity touches something wet and warm. She realizes that it is blood, looking at her fingers. "Oh, you were shot!"

"Hey, it's nothing."

Felicity can't believe her ears. How can he be so nonchalant about being shot? "But you're bleeding!"

"I'll be fine."

Felicity wants to insist but sirens wail at the distance, warning them both that they have a more pressing matter on their hands. The police are coming, so The Arrow needs to go. Despite everything he's done for the city, of all the criminals he's taken out of the streets, the SCPD still perceive him as a threat.

He seems reluctant to leave her, so Felicity prompts him, "You should go, um, I mean thank you, now you should go. The shot, I mean you need to, the wound needs to be fixed." Felicity realizes she's babbling, so tries to calm her hyperactive brain counting down, "Three, two, one. Please make sure you get that wound tended. The cops will be here in any minute." Still, he doesn't move. "I'll be fine," she echoes the same words he told her a minute before. Finally, he nods and walks out of her office, which makes Felicity breaths in relief because just a few seconds later, a group of policemen barge in her office.

*********************

Oliver doesn't go too far. Effectively, he avoids the police but stays on the premises, making sure Felicity is taken care of. Minutes after the SCPD's arrival, he watches her exiting the building in the company of an EMT and being followed by Quentin Lance. That makes Oliver feel slightly better. They're making her go to the hospital to be checked out. Even from afar, he can tell she's not happy about it. Nonetheless, it does wonders for his peace of mind.

Only when the ambulance takes off, Oliver returns to the foundry. When he gets in through the alley entrance, he's surprised to find Tommy along with Diggle, waiting for him. The presence of his best friend is like a punch in the gut. It reminds Oliver the vow he broke tonight.

When Tommy was injured so badly during the Undertaking, Oliver thought he would lose his best friend. They were distanced because Tommy found out what Oliver did at night. Afraid that his friend could die believing him a murderer, Oliver vowed Tommy that he wouldn't kill anymore. Fortunately, Tommy survived. After he was out of the hospital, Tommy made peace with Oliver, accepting his nightly activities, while Oliver kept his promise of no more killing. Nobody else died by his hand the last seven months… until tonight. Oliver didn't have another choice but to kill, though. Felicity's life was in jeopardy.

"Tommy?" it is unusual to see him down the lair. He accepts that Oliver hunts criminals at night, but Tommy doesn't want to get involved in it. "What are you doing here?"

"Thea told me you left suddenly, looking really upset. I knew what that meant, so I came down here to know what was going on. Diggle told me about Felicity. Is she okay? Did you get the guys?"

"Yes, I— um, yeah. Felicity should be fine. They took her to Starling General…"

"To the hospital? What happened to her?"

Oliver grinds his teeth due to the sudden swell of jealousy washing over him. He knows it's ridiculous and uncalled for, but he can't help it. Felicity and Tommy became friends and Oliver doesn't even know how. All he knows is that any man too close to Felicity bothers him, even those who are in a committed happy relationship like Tommy is with Laurel. He should be grateful, but the concern in his friend's voice just rubs him wrong.

Doing everything to conceal his feelings, Oliver turns around as he takes off the jacket of the suit and the undershirt underneath as he says, "Nothing. They took her there just as a precaution. She has a cut on her head, but she's fine. I'm going to change and head over there because I don't want her to be alone."

"But first," John says, giving a pointed look at the wound in Oliver's arm, "let's take care of that."

"It's okay, Digg, I can do it myself. You two should go, I'm sure Laurel and Lyla would like you to be with them when the ball drops."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'm going," Diggle says as he takes his jacket and gun before heading out. Passing next to Oliver, he pats him on the back. "Let me know if you or Felicity need anything."

Oliver nods, "thanks, John. Happy new year."

"Happy new year, man. To you, too, Tommy," Diggle says, climbing up the stairs.

"Same to you," Tommy replies.

Then there are only the old friends in the lair. Oliver looks for the first aid kit to treat his bullet wound. He can feel Tommy's eyes drilling a hole in the back of his head, but stubbornly, Oliver focuses on fixing himself up and sewing the injury on his arm. He hopes Tommy goes away.

To Oliver's chagrin, Tommy stays.

"Ollie, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. The bullet barely grazed me."

"I'm not talking about that."

Tommy walks closer and around the table, pausing across Oliver and making him impossible to ignore his friend.

"Something else is up with you. I haven't sensed you this closed off since you just came back last year. You’re not telling me something, what is it? Are you sure everything is okay with Felicity?" Tommy asks, and finishes saying with an impish smile on his lips, "I know how much you care about her."

The fact that his feelings for Felicity are that obvious to Tommy should bother Oliver, but honestly, he's learning that it's a lost cause to try to hide them. They're an indomitable force. Oliver has done everything to dismiss and ignore them, and all that does is intensify his obsession for her. Felicity is on his mind day and night.

He can't get her out of his head.

"She's fine," Oliver states plainly.

"So, what is it? We agreed that wouldn't be more lies between us," Tommy insists.

Sometimes, his best friend gets worse than a dog with a bone, and guilt makes him cave in. Oliver dresses his cared wound before fixing his eyes on Tommy's face. "I'm sorry, Tommy; I failed you," he confesses in a rough voice. "I broke the promise I made you and I killed somebody tonight."

Tommy screws his face. Oliver expects it to be in anger and disappointment, but instead, it is in consideration. "Why? Why did you do that?" Tommy asks in a somber tone.

"It was that or watching Felicity being killed."

"So you did it to protect her."

"Yes."

And Oliver would do it again if the situation ever repeats itself. He knows two things for sure. The first is that he's someone who will do whatever —whatever— it takes to protect Felicity. The second thing… he loves her more than life itself.

"I still don't like the idea of you killing anybody…"

Oliver follows Tommy with his eyes as his friend rounds the table, approaching him. Swallowing hard, Oliver tries to keep his hopes down for the but he senses in that sentence. The lack of recrimination from Tommy disconcerts him a little.

"But if there's something I've learned this last year is that we're capable of doing whatever for the women we love. Either that being risking your own life or killing someone else to protect them," Tommy claps Oliver's shoulder and smiles softly. "I won't hold it against you, buddy, because I’d have done the same thing if it were Laurel’s life on the line. I never thought I had it in me, but I do."

Oliver feels as if the weight of the world is lifted from his shoulders, and he can breathe easy again. "Thank you, Tommy."

"You have nothing to thank me for. And listen, Ollie, I know I called you a murderer before, but you are not, you hear me? You're a hero to me and I'm proud of you. Even if I think you're a little crazy for doing all of this," Tommy waves his hand around aimlessly to the lair.

Oliver has never considered himself as a hugger, but in a moment like this when words fail him, he doesn't hesitate to embrace one of the most important people of his life. He considers Tommy much more than his best friend; Tommy is his brother.

"Okay, I should go back to the club now, Laurel is probably wondering where I am," Tommy says when they pull apart.

"When you see Thea tell her that I…." Oliver hesitates, thinking about a believable excuse. Unfortunately, Oliver is not good at those.

"I'll tell her the truth… That you're with Felicity, and she'll be delighted with the news," Tommy teases.

Oliver throws a peeved look at Tommy. Thea's more perceptive and tenacious than Tommy. She has prodded Oliver into pursuing Felicity's affections for a very long time, even before Oliver realized his feelings. His baby sister has been very vocal about it with Oliver and anyone else willing to hear her.

"If you must, but please, tell her not to start planning the wedding yet. Felicity… she… I'm not sure about her feelings about me."

Tommy chuckles, "I never thought I'd see the day when Oliver Queen doubts of his skill to seduce a woman."

"I'm not doubting myself," Oliver snapped, taking offense. "And she's not any woman."

"Sorry, you're right," Tommy raises his hands in surrender, but the amused grin stays on his lips.

"I just— I think she has a crush on The Arrow."

Being honest, Oliver expects some understanding from his friend. That's not what he gets. Tommy doubles over as his raucous laughter echoes inside the damp basement.

"Oh, my God, Ollie. You should consider adding some sort of ventilation to your hood because I think it has fried your brain! It's the only explanation I can find for you not noticing the way she looks at you!!

"It's not that she doesn't find me attractive; I know she does. Sometimes, I just think she likes The Arrow better."

Oliver's confession sends Tommy into a new fit of hysterical laughter. Oliver doesn't like being Tommy's buffoon. "Would you stop laughing?! It's not funny."

"Sorry, I'm trying," Tommy tries to sober up but he can't. He starts chuckling again. "It is funny. You're jealous of yourself, and that's just… hilarious."

"That's… T—that's ridiculous," Oliver stammers. "I'm not jealous!"

"Oh, c'mon, Ollie! You are! I can't—" whatever Tommy is saying is lost because the ringtone of cell phone goes off. "Wait, it's Laurel," he says before taking it out from his pocket and answering, "Hey, baby…. Of course, I'm in the club. I'm, um, in the storage room, checking if there's enough champagne for the rest of the night... yeah, I'll be right out."

Oliver gives Tommy a look because of the lie he just told to his girlfriend. "That's on you, my friend," Tommy defends himself after he ends the call. "And if Laurel catches my lying, I'm ratting you out."

"Then, you better get going."

"I am, but before I do, let me give you an advice… Tell Felicity how you feel about her, maybe it's what she's waiting for to express what is in her heart. You won't know her true feelings for you until you ask."

As Tommy leaves, Oliver ponders the words of his friend. For the first time in his life, Oliver is afraid of being rejected by a woman. The way in which Felicity has captivated him defies all logic and reasoning. She's the bright ray of hope at the end of the tunnel that drives him to be a better man. Felicity is his guiding light as climbs out of the pit of darkness he fell into since The Gambit capsized. She has become such essential part of his life that he can't bear the thought of not having her in it.

He tried to stay away from Felicity on the pretense of protecting her, but tonight he almost lost her anyway. It had nothing to do with his vigilantism or the relationship with him. If she had died, she would never have known what he feels for her.

Maybe it's time to take the risk and tell her what he feels.

********************

Felicity can say without a doubt that this is the most surreal night of her life. The strangest thing isn't that she was kidnapped, almost shot to death, and rescued by The Arrow —because living in Starling City was only matter of time before she became a crime victim. What surprises her the most is being in the back of a car with Oliver, heading to the Queen Mansion.

Only him and his influence could have managed for the doctors checked out and discharged her so fast on New Year's Eve. Everyone knows the chaos of every emergency room on this night. She thought she was going to be hours before she was taken for the testing the doctor ordered. After all, there were sicker patients than she is. In fact, it was ridiculous that they make her go to the hospital when she felt fine.

At his arrival, Oliver had sped up the process, getting her out of the hospital two hours later. She'd be forever grateful to him for it.

Felicity's tucked in at his side while he has an arm wrapped around her shoulders. For more delicious that is to feel warm and safe in his arms, she's not all that comfortable spending the night in his house.

"Oliver," she says softly, pulling herself away from him, "really, it isn't necessary to do this. I can stay at my place."

When he turns his face to see her, Felicity's mouth gets dry. He's so close to her that she can see the blue of his intense eyes. The darkness surrounding them in the car matters little.

"Felicity, we already discussed this. Your apartment is a crime scene and is in custody of the police until they gather the evidence they need, so you can't stay there. Besides, you heard the doctor. You have a concussion—"

"Mild concussion," she reminds him.

"Granted, mild. Nevertheless, the doctor said that someone needed to be with you tonight in case you present any neurological symptom. You've been through a lot in the last few hours and you shouldn't be alone. I don't know why are you been so difficult about this, Felicity."

"I don't want to a bother," she stammers.

But it's more than that. Felicity is overwhelmed and confused. Her feelings have her going back and forth between two equally enticing men. A fact that is strikingly evident tonight. She feels like a yo-yo. While Felicity is in the presence of The Arrow, her heart beats with passion and her body comes alive with fire. She's caught herself often daydreaming about him. She'd love to unveil the mystery of who he is under that hood. Her crush on him is embarrassing.

Yet, it's not less shameful than the one she has for Oliver. So many things that separate them: the fact that he's essentially her boss; he's sickeningly wealthy while she's, well, not. Oliver's too far out of her league and she's definitely not the leggy-model type of woman he usually dates. Why would a drop-dead gorgeous billionaire be interested in a quirky, babbling nobody?

However, nothing of that lessen the incredible attraction Felicity feels for Oliver.

In moments like this when she's so close to him, Felicity can't think of anyone else. Her skin tingles with awareness and butterflies take residency in her stomach, while lava runs through her veins. Oliver Queen is also a mystery that she's dying to figure out. At first sight, he projects the image of being the same person, the same playboy he was before being stranded on a deserted island for five years, but Felicity has seen glimpses of the real person he is behind that mask. Felicity likes what she has seen.

Frustration crinkles Oliver's eyes. "I told you that I'm happy to help," he says, taking her hand in his. "You're not a bother, and you can stay all the time that you need."

"Won't your sister say something that you're taking a woman to the mansion to spend the night with you?" Felicity cringes, realizing the unintended innuendo, which triggers one of her usual babbling fits, "Not that I'll be spending the night with you. Sleeping in your bed. Sleeping-sleeping, not sleeping as a euphemism for having sex. There's nothing wrong with doing that, though! What woman wouldn't like to be in your hard-rock arms? But talk about unthinkable. You and me, I mean."

As usual, Oliver doesn't care about her ramblings. He simply assures her, "Thea won't mind in the least. And I want you there."

His husky confession renders her speechless. It doesn't help having his eyes focused solely on her either. When his pupils dilate and his stare intensifies, Felicity feels as the temperature in the car rising. Her heart picks up the pace, thumping wildly in her chest.

She doesn't dare to contemplate a deeper meaning to his words. Oliver is saying that as a friend. Just as that, right? He's just offering her a roof to sleep under and not an invitation to his bed.

Someone clearing their throat bursts the bubble she and Oliver are in. "We're here, Mr. Queen."

Felicity blushes furiously. As if her babble hadn't been mortifying enough, now she realizes that detective Hilton was an unintended witness of it. The kind detective offered to give them a lift when they were leaving the hospital.

Oliver thanks Hilton and gets out of the car. Felicity also blurts her gratitude, wishing a happy new year to the detective, and before she can open the car's door, Oliver does it for her. He helps her to get out and escorts her to the main entrance of the mansion.

Felicity has been at the mansion a handful of occasions, and every time she goes in, the grandeur of it takes her breath away. This time she has no opportunity to appreciate it because Oliver ushers her up to the stairs and to a guest room.

"Why don't you freshen up while I find you something more comfortable to wear?" he says.

When he turns to leave, Felicity stops him, grabbing his arm, "Wait, Oliver…"

"What?"

"Thank you for letting me stay here."

His lips curve up into a soft smile that shows a hint of his lovely dimples. "You're welcome. Be right back, okay?"

Once she's alone, Felicity looks around the beautiful room, which seems to be bigger than her apartment. It's inconceivable to her how could be living with so much luxury. Growing up she and her mom had barely for the essential. Only in dreams, she could imagine sleeping in a bedroom like this.

Watching the tempting king-size bed, exhaustion catches up with her. All that Felicity wants is to lay on it with her clothes on and sleep for a month. When Felicity looks at herself, she grimaces. That's not happening. Her personal state is beyond pitiful, testimony to her ordeal tonight. Her dress is ruined. She's afraid of smearing blood and grime on the pristine and, without a doubt, expensive bedding.

Heeding Oliver's advice, she goes to the enormous en-suite bathroom to take a shower. Felicity gives her back to the mirror, avoiding her reflection because she knows her aspect is even worse than she knows. For a moment, Felicity hesitates to undress, regretting to take Oliver's jacket off. He kindly lent it to Felicity to keep her warm. It is so wonderful to be surrounded by his delicious scent. Trying to commit it to memory, she wraps the garment tighter around her and buries her nose in it, inhaling deep.

With a sigh, she finally let it go to finish undressing and take a shower. Cleaning herself under the warm spray does good and makes her feel much better.

When she returns to the bedroom wrapped in the softest and puffy towel she has ever used, Felicity finds a matching set of cotton pajamas, shirt and pants, folded on the bed. She tries it and it's a perfect fit. Felicity wonders where Oliver found it. Then, she remembers that Thea and she are of the same complexion. Felicity hopes that the youngest of the Queen siblings doesn't mind Felicity borrowing it.

With some of the exhaustion gone thanks to the shower and the bed no longer beckoning her so strongly, Felicity decides to return the jacket to Oliver. With it wrapped over her arm, Felicity pauses at the doorway of her room to orientate herself. Light spills onto the dim hallway from the room on the right. The door is ajar and Felicity hears the whisper of someone shuffling around. Betting that it's Oliver's room, Felicity walks the short distance and peeks in.

"Oliver, are you here? I just want—"

She loses her words, watching taking his shirt off. Her first thought is that his body is much more swoon-worthy than she ever thought. Even a Greek god would envy Oliver's ripped physique. Then, she repairs on the numerous tattoos and scars covering his skin and wonders how he got them. As gruesome as some of the scars are, there's one in particular that hijacks her attention. The wound is fresh and blood seeps through the dressing.

Realizing she is there and with hasty movements, Oliver slips his shirt back on, "Felicity! Wha—what are you doing here? Do you need anything?"

She ignores his question and makes one of her own, "Oliver, what happened to your arm? You're bleeding!"

Tossing Oliver's jacket over his bed, she approaches and stops him from buttoning his shirt back up. Without a second thought, she pulls the shirt off his shoulders. For a heartbeat, Oliver fights her until she begs him, looking at him in the eyes, "Please, let me see, Oliver."

With a sigh, he relents and Felicity removes the shirt completely, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. In other circumstances, Felicity would have been much aware that she's so close, touching him. Her hands are gliding all over the hard-rock muscles of Oliver Queen, no less! However, her concern for him overrides her flustering.

"Is this a bullet wound?!" she squeaks shrilly after removing the bandage carefully. "Oliver, how? When?"

"It's nothing," he says, stepping away from her and putting a significant distance between them. "I'll be fine."

When he says that, Felicity has a baffling deja vu. A flash of The Arrow saying those exact words with the same nonchalant tone rushes through her head. It's beyond ridiculous what she's thinking, but… could Oliver be the vigilante?

The possibility scares as much as it thrills her.

The skeptic part of her insists that she is crazy for thinking that of Oliver, but her instincts tell her differently and her memory presents a series of evidence that it's hard to ignore. She remembers all those weird searches he asked her to do since they met, which coincidentally were tied to some criminal activity and the vigilante stopping said activity. She isn't stupid and knows that Oliver has lied to her repeatedly. If he is who she thinks he is, then the mystery of how The Arrow knew about her hacking skills is solved.

If that isn't enough, Oliver is wounded in the same arm and on the same spot than The Arrow was. Both men are the same height and build. That's without forgetting that both Oliver and The Arrow have their jaws covered with a sexy stubble.

Oliver and The Arrow being the same person also explains why she feels equally attracted to both.

"Oliver, my brain is reaching to some pretty ludicrous conclusion right now, so I need to ask you this and I want the truth."

Across the room, Oliver is watching her intently. He has his arms crossed over his bare chest and his body rigid in a noticeable defensive attitude. He's closing up to her, but she can't allow that. The mystery surrounding this man has become more than Felicity can take and she needs to solve it.

Right now.

Empowered by her determination, she goes across the room and stops right in front of him. Being Felicity barefoot, their height difference is more evident than ever, but surprisingly, it doesn't deter her from her mission. For once, she doesn't feel overwhelmed by Oliver's presence. In a weird role reversal, Felicity is sure that she is intimidating him.

Looking up at him, she holds her gaze on him and dares Oliver without words to lie to her. "Are you him? The Arrow."

"Felicity—"

She ignores the warning in Oliver's tone and presses on. "You got shot tonight when you were saving from that guy, didn't you?"

"That's ridiculous! I wasn't th—"

"Oliver," she cut him off, "I asked you for the truth."

He stares at her with an expressionless face. Felicity sees that he's trying to conceal his emotions, but his eyes betray him. Usually, his blue peepers reflect the intensity of his indomitable spirit, but tonight they reveal pain and fear. Her heart clenches in sympathy for him. Oliver is showing a vulnerability that she hasn't seen in him before.

Felicity places a hand on his arm, wanting to give him some comfort. "Do you remember almost a year ago when I gave you the notebook Mr. Steele wanted me to look into? The one who belongs to your mother?"

The way in which his Adam's apple jumps, it's obvious that the question makes Oliver uneasy. Felicity can't blame him. The subject of his mother is a touchy one, to say the least. A few weeks ago, Moira Queen was found guilty and condemned to life in prison for her involvement in the Undertaking that resulted in the murder of 502 people.

"Yes, I remember," he says.

"That day I asked you if I could trust you and you said that I could. And I did, even with all the fairly ridiculous lies you dropped on me. Today, I'm asking you to trust me. I think deep down I always knew; I just want the confirmation."

For several seconds, silence reigns in the room. All that Felicity can hear is her own frantic heartbeat, reverberating in her ears.

Oliver's voice is firm and confident when finally speaks, saying five little words that change everything, "Yes, I am The Arrow."

A soft smile surfaces on Felicity's lips, "Oliver, wow! That explains so many things about you." Her bright expression melts away into one of bewilderment. "Why didn't you tell me… before? It'd have saved you from telling tons of awful lies, and me from endless of sleepless nights, thinking about why you said such things, you know."

Oliver gives her a sheepish look, "I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me or is it because you don't trust me?"

"Felicity," Oliver breaths out in an agonizing tone as if the remark causes him pain. "I trust you with my life!"

Trust me with your life, but not with your secret, she thinks with some bitterness.

Stepping into her personal space, Oliver cups Felicity's face with his hands and fixes his eyes on hers. "You're one of the only 3 people I trust completely, without any doubt."

"Oh, frak! I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Caressing her flushed cheeks, Oliver explains himself, "Because of the life I lead… I just think that it's better to… keep it secret from the people I care about. I've tried to keep myself distanced from everybody. What I do is dangerous and the last thing I want is for any of you to get hurt because of me. For you to get in the crosshairs of my enemies. They could harm you in retaliation."

Unable of shifting her eyes from Oliver's, Felicity gulps as she tries to convince herself that Oliver means that he cares about her as a friend and nothing else. She's afraid to let her heart steering her in a different direction. Felicity has to avoid the wishful thinking about Oliver caring about her in a deeper level. The thing is that he's not looking at or touching her as a friend would.

"Felicity, if I lose you…" Oliver stops as if the thought is unbearable for him. "If something happens to you… I— I don't what I would do. You're too important to me."

"Wait, Oliver. W—what are you saying?" she stammers. "I don't want to read… too much into this, but it seems to me that you— Are you trying to tell me that you care about me, and not as a friend? It sounds like you like me, like me."

"And is that so hard to believe?" he asks with an amused tone in his voice.

Gaping, Felicity blurts out, "Yeah! I mean, you're Oliver Queen! You could get any woman you want. And I'm… I'm—"

"The woman I want!" he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him until there's virtually no space between them. "There's something that pulls me to you. I tried to dismiss it; I tried to ignore it and keep my distance, but what I feel for you is stronger. I— I love you, Felicity "

His declaration renders her speechless and melts her heart. She has no idea what to say. Some part of her suspects that she's in a coma after she hit her head, and everything that has happened since then is the work of his imagination. Yet, it feels so real. The heat emanating from Oliver's body drapes over her like a comfort blanket. Being so safe in his strong, but gentle embrace feels like heaven. Felicity sighs as his hot breath tickles her forehead as he kisses her brow.

"I can't hide it anymore," as Oliver speaks, he continues laying soft kisses on her face downward. "I never thought I'd find someone like you. You dazzled me the day I walked in your office like nobody has done before."

Screwing her face, Felicity remembers with striking clarity that moment. "I was chewing on a pen."

A dazzling nostalgic grin spreads on Oliver's face. "It was red."

If it isn't because he has his arms around her, Felicity's knees would have given out. She's floored to know that Oliver remembers that. Guys usually miss details like those, and yet, he recalls. He, who she never thought to be on his radar. "I'm not dreaming or… or in the middle of a comatose hallucination, am I?" she asks, daring to touch his cheek with her fingertips, almost afraid that he's going to vanish with the contact.

"No," he chuckles and nuzzles the tip of her nose. "This is real. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to."

"Unbelievable," she breathes.

"Please, tell I'm not alone with these feelings."

The underlying fear in his voice tugs Felicity's heart. "Oh, Oliver. No, you're not alone. For the longest time, I thought of you as an impossible… unthinkable. Even now, I'm waiting to wake up from this wonderful dream and crash into reality. But Oliver, something I cannot deny is that you've opened up my heart in a way I didn't know was possible. I love you, too."

As if the universe is waiting for both to declare their love, fireworks go off in the distance.

Startled, both break the eye contact to look the colorful detonations through the window. As pretty as they are, the luminous spectacle only holds their attention for a second, so they turn their faces back to each other.

"It's midnight," Oliver says softly. "Happy New Year, Felicity."

"Happy New Year, Oliver," she smiles up to him. "I don't know about you, but I kinda like always to carry on some festive traditions. I mean, it's New Year and we are here, you and me. Alone. There's nobody else to ask…"

"Is this your way to say you want me to kiss you?"

"Maybe."

"C'mere!"

Felicity leans up on her tiptoes while Oliver bends his head to meet halfway. The moment when their lips touch is sublime and much more passionate than what Felicity ever dreamed of. She's completely unprepared for the passion of his kiss. The ferocity of it. It is both rough and tender. Demanding. Hot. Sweet. He growls fiercely as his tongue brushes against hers, tasting her before he explores every inch of her mouth. Her tongue dances with his as she sinks her hands into his short, soft hair.

The kiss rolls into a languid, but deeper pace with bouts of short, sweet kisses that allows them to catch some breath before going back to a passionate frenzy. Felicity can't get enough and neither can Oliver.

"Stay here with me tonight," Oliver asks her between kisses.

Surprised, Felicity pulls back slightly.

Breaking the kisses completely, Oliver cups one of her cheeks with his hand and clarifies, "We don't have to do anything if you are not comfortable.. I nee— I just want to hold you while you sleep… to know that you're safe."

Felicity wonders how much more melting her heart can take because, at this pace, she won’t survive to see the light of the day. "I would like nothing more," she says as she covers Oliver's hand with hers.

Little she knows that she won't sleep anywhere else ever again. From that night on, they're inseparable. It doesn't matter what life throws at them, the difficulties they have to go through, at the end of each night they always know that will go back to each other and share a place full of love and passion.

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thatmalmal · 3 years

Text

what really happened: a memoir from the apocalypse: part 1

Chapter 2: DC

My aunt Andrea arrived at the house with my uncle and cousins. Mom walked outside to meet them. I stood in front of the glass door and listened to their conversation.

Andrea ran to Mom and grabbed her hands. "I heard about... I'm so sorry."

Mom bowed her head and nodded.

"We're headed to DC and you should come with us," Andrea said.

"We can't make that trip," Mom said.

"We have to. I know it's scary, but you can't stay here. Think about the girls. You wanna give them the best chance possible. And sometimes you have to take a chance to do that."

...................................................................

I pushed my magenta suitcase towards the back of the trunk, and Phoebe sat her Paul Frank backpack next to it.

"How about the boys in one car and the girls in the other?" Andrea suggested.

"I wanna ride with Daddy," Phoebe said.

My uncle Kurt pat her back. "Alright. Phoebe and Chris together and Krista and Mallory together? Sounds like a plan."

Phoebe grabbed Mom's arms. "Mommy, I wanna ride with you too!"

"There's not enough room. Ride with Dad," Mom said.

"We'll be right in front of you. I have the directions," Kurt told Mom.

The Langs always had a weird relationship with us. Andrea and my grandma got into big fights, and those fights broke them apart permanently. Phoebe and I were shielded from a lot of it. My parents decided not to cut off communication with them, and to let them be involved in our lives. We were never around them that much, but whenever it was Phoebe and I's birthday, well, usually a month or two later, Andrea took us out shopping. At least I got ice cream, toys, and candy out of it. I used to call her Auntie Cuckoo, and I still do when she's around, but behind her back I refer to her by her first name, Andrea.

...................................................................

My cousins Matt and Jeff, Kurt, Phoebe, and Dad were in Dad's car, while Andrea, Mom, and I were in the other. DC was about four hours away from home, and we were planning on just entering the state line and getting directions of where to go from there. Kurt brought his own gun, and the gun from Mimi was in the trunk of our car. I was in the backseat by myself, not shielding my eyes from what I knew I might've seen. I knew I'd rather see it than not see it, because when you know something's out there but your eyes are closed, you feel claustrophobic. Like what's outside your window could reach in to get you at any moment, and you don't know when, because you can't see. Similar to when you're taking a shower and closing your eyes so you won't get shampoo in them, and you're worried there's a spider or a roach crawling out of the drain. At least that's what I used to worry about.

...................................................................

A few hours later:

By the time we should've made it to DC, we were only halfway there. The people who directed traffic made us stop for about fifteen minutes while each car passed, one at a time. This process happened for what seemed like fifty times.

Andrea texted Matt and Jeff every five minutes. "My texts aren't going through," she said.

Mom fidgeted with her hands as she held them off the wheel. "It's probably because there's no wifi."

My stomach cramped from hunger. "Can we stop for lunch?"

"No," Mom said.

"Why not?"

She looked at me through the rearview mirror. "Because we need to stick to the road we're on. We don't know what the drive-thru lines are going to be like."

I laid my sweaty hands on my knees and sighed. "If the world is ending, can I at least have Chickfila one last time?"

Andrea laughed.

"If we can find one, maybe," Mom said.

...................................................................

Night came. Outside my window, I could only see black.

Andrea's texts still didn't go through, and she wasn't receiving any either. "I'm worried service is gonna go out," she said.

"They're fine. They're right ahead of us," Mom said.

"Until the stupid traffic guy let them get too far ahead."

"Mom, can I have a snack?" I asked.

"No. We need to save the food for later."

"But I'm hungry."

"You're gonna have to get used to it. I'm sorry."

...................................................................

As we reached DC's entrance, we were met by a traffic stop that shone bright red light. Kurt's car stopped ahead of us. A police officer stood outside the door of the car, and led Phoebe out of it. Dad and Matt walked out after her. As the officer gave them orders, my heart pounded.

"What are they doing?" Andrea asked.

Mom stared at the scene. "I don't know."

I watched through the windshield as three sick ones walked out of the woods beside the car. Andrea screamed. Kurt pulled out his gun, and another officer held him down, doing nothing about the threat.

"They need to shoot it! Aren't they shooting it?" Andrea panicked.

The officer shoved Kurt to the ground and stood by and watched as the sick grabbed for him. Andrea screamed bloody murder, yelling at Mom to put her foot on the gas and drive forward. I yelled Phoebe's name as loud as I could. As Matt tried to help Kurt, the dead got him too. Jeff stood frozen. Andrea tried to grab the wheel from Mom. A gunshot sounded. I couldn't see Jeff anymore. Andrea's scream filled the air. Phoebe grabbed her ears and cried. An officer sat her inside the car. Dad ran to the front seat. The officers didn't stop him, and the car sped ahead.

Mom started to drive forward.

The traffic man banged on the side window. "Ma'am, you can't go yet," he said.

She banged her head against the headrest. "That's my daughter and my husband!"

The man looked defeated, but obligated. He watched the line of cars behind us.

"Go!" Andrea yelled.

Mom pressed on the gas and made a run for it.

...................................................................

Five minutes passed, and we couldn't find the car. Ten minutes passed and we still couldn't. Around fifty cars were backed up ahead of us, parked because they couldn't move ahead. There were three lines of them, and we were on the far right.

"There's no other road to go on. Where the hell did they go?" Mom asked.

No one responded.

She laid her head towards the wheel and took a few deep breaths. "The car that's in front of us now, it was in front of them. What if they circled behind us? Did — could they do that? Mallory, did you see where they went? Did you see them?"

I wiped my tears with my fingers. "No."

She stopped the car. "Ok. I'm getting out to see if I can find them." She turned to me. Her face was pale and her eyes were puffy. "I need you to stay here. I'll be back."

"No! I need to come with you!" I said.

"We'll all get out," Andrea said. It was the first time she spoke since it all happened.

...................................................................

We searched around every car and every line, for about fifteen minutes, behind and in front of us. We couldn't find them. We tried to understand how they weren't there, how they got away, and where they could've gone. A man wearing a blue police cap leaned against a car in front of us.

Mom held my hand and walked closer to him. "Hey, excuse me, officer?" she said.

Andrea leaned over and whispered in her ear. "We don't know if we can trust him!"

He walked towards us. "How can I help you, ma'am?"

"I need help locating my seven-year-old daughter and my husband. We drove in separate cars, and they got too far ahead of us. I've been looking up this jam and I still can't find --"

"Hey, I'm here to help you the best I can, alright? Do you have a picture of them?" he asked.

Mom pulled out a picture from her purse, one of all of us at Disneyworld. In it, Phoebe wore pigtails and a pink shirt. Her cheeks were rosy and sunburned, and her smile was bigger than anybody else's. Mom's hair was short and curly, like it always was. My hair was shorter, at shoulder-length, and I didn't have my glasses yet. Dad wore one of his many superhero shirts. I moved my head, unable to look at my grandparents and Mimi, who were also in the picture.

"Beautiful family. We've got kids with us too." The officer knelt in front of me. "I'll take you to them. My name is Shane."

...................................................................

Shane walked me towards the open trunk of a car. The kids sat across from each other, and a checkerboard laid in between them. "Carl, Sophia, this is Mallory," he said.

Sophia sat her doll on the floor of the car. She had hair that was much shorter than mine and wore a dark blue shirt with a rainbow in the middle. "Where are your parents?" she asked.

"My mom's with my aunt. I don't know where my dad and sister are," I said.

"I don't know where my dad is either," Carl said. He had short brown hair and wore a shirt with a paw print in the center.

"Do you want to play with us?" Sophia asked.

"I don't know how to play checkers," I said.

"I'll show you. You can play against me first," she said.

A lady with short, greyish hair walked towards me. She smiled. "Hi, I'm Carol. When's the last time you ate?"

"For breakfast," I said.

"I'll go get you a snack."

Carl and Sophia laid their checkers on the board, and laughed as they tried to beat each other. I cried into my hand.

"What's wrong?" Sophia asked.

"My uncle and cousins just died. The sick got to them. They're gonna get to us too. I don't know where my sister or dad are —"

Carl stopped me. "I'm sorry about your cousins and your uncle. But your dad and sister will be back."

"Phoebe will be back, and we can all play checkers together," Sophia said.

Carol handed me a pack of goldfish, but I didn't have the energy to eat it. I laid in between Carl and Sophia, and we watched the tiny stars that were spread apart in the dark sky. For a second, I felt peace. Mom and Andrea walked back, having found nothing. I laid on the hard and bumpy surface of the trunk, unable to fall asleep.

#the walking dead #shane walsh #andrea #carl grimes #sophia peletier #carol peletier

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fazbearsecuritycrew · 6 years

Text

IN WHICH FIGHTING IS ONE OF HIS MANY TALENTS

NOTICE: Mentions of Blood, Cursing

Mike usually loves fighting.

What he does not like is hearing about Jeremy fighting.

happy birthday, fnaf 2!

WINTER 2003 - Where the hell was he?

Mike looked impatiently to his watch, becoming more and more concerned by the minute.

And, speaking of minutes, Jeremy had less than five to get his ass down here before his shift started.

There were the usual excuses- I overslept, or Traffic was crazy, or even his favorite one- My bike caught a flat.

But at least he was somewhat on time with those. Mike had never witnessed a guard who had worked more than a few days still have the balls to come in late. It usually scared them into arriving an hour early, at the bare minimum. It was like the first day all over again.

Knowing the kid already had a lot to juggle with, Mike usually let it slide (he had yet to die, anyway), but it seemed like he had been too easy on him lately. He’d probably have to chew is ass out for the stunt he was pulling tonight.

The signature bell on that familiar blue bike hollered through the air, and Mike felt the breeze that trailed behind the bicycle as Jeremy pulled up to the rack.

He prepared for this moment, mouth already halfway open and in the middle of his breath-

And he cut him off.

“S-Sorry Mike,” he started with the usual apology, although it lacked its usual haste. “I…h-had a problem today, a-and then I forgot to set m-my alarm, so I t-to hurry over to get h-here. So, u-um, yeah, and a-a-also, um…”

His voice began to trail off long before the words stopped tumbling from his mouth. Mike hadn’t even noticed when he had unlocked the door to the building, pulling his hat low as he stiffly walked inside.

Mike followed after him, sucking his teeth slightly at the lowered temperature on the interior of the establishment. He may have heard the boy wince as well, but it was hard to hear from back here.

Jeremy made sure to be a few quick steps ahead of him the entire walk to the office, not slowing down once to let Mike join him at his side.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was hiding something.

“…Yeah. Try to be early next time. Don’t want them ripping your ass to shreds because you couldn’t bother to clock in.”

He flinched, but otherwise gave a silent, curt nod.

In truth, Jeremy actually hadn’t been acting all that nervous tonight. No, it was more…suspicious than anything.

He had been hellbent on avoiding facing Mike. Anything he did, he did with his head down or his back turned. He had nearly dropped the flashlight trying to get it from Mike without turning around.

The situation with the tablet was a whole lot worse. His nose was practically stuck to the screen, apparently so enthralled by whatever the footage showed despite it being a slow night.

An hour of camera watching passed, and Mike grew even more curious as to what Jeremy had been hiding.

He said he had a problem. Problem? Wonder what it is?

He entertained himself for the next fifteen by thinking of all the possible scenarios that the boy may have gotten himself into.

He was famous for getting knee deep in troublesome shit, and this time proved to be no exception. Traffic jam? Missing uniform? Stubbed toe?

A snicker escaped, and from the corner of his eye could he barely make out the green that cast him a look in the shadows.

Well, fun over. At least it kept him distracted for a good bit. Good, because it was a Tuesday. He groaned. Tuesdays were always the worst.

Smack!

His neck swiveled around just as the sound finished bouncing off the walls. Jeremy flinched, looking around the room.

“T-The, uh, tablet fell.”

Mike walked back over to the desk. “It’s not broken, is it?” he asked, reaching down to pick up the fallen item.

Unfortunately, Jeremy had the same idea.

A sharp pain rang through his head when Mike had realized he had just headbutted the shit out of Jeremy. They fell their separate, each cradling their own sore forehead.

Mike rubbed at the skin while Jeremy scrambled around to look for his missing hat.

Mike looked up.

“Jeremy, what the FUCK?”

There was an unbridled rage screeching in his shout, but it wasn’t directed at the teen. Just directed at the bastard that did that.

Jeremy tried to hide his quivering bottom lip with a nervous grin.

“Wow,” the boy started, surprisingly calm. “Those street lamps sure do know how t-to pick a fight!”

“Fight!”

“Oops,” the guard mused. “Wrong word.”

Mike tilted his chin towards him and turned his head to see him better, earning a yelp from the teen.

“Jeremy, the hell happened to your face?”

While Jeremy had saw it for himself earlier, he truly thought it hadn’t looked that bad. Sure, that black eye was really working wonders for his complexion, and the split lip provided a nice accessory to the many other cuts that littered his face, but he had worse before.

It didn’t look that bad, right?

Clearly not to Mike, who was mostly focused on the fact that the guy’s eye was basically swollen shut. That was already bad enough, but the fact that that ugly amalgamations of blues traveled up to his forehead made it look like he had been slammed into something.

Honestly, it took everything in Mike’s power to not be somewhat impressed that he was still standing. Rather, that he could even see at all. That eye was basically out of order.

“I-It’s kind of a long story…” he paused, hoping the noir would catch the hint.

He did not.

Or maybe he did and chose to ignore it.

He further examined the beaten boy’s face, brushing hair out of the way to reveal a slightly nasty cut on his forehead. Huh. He didn’t even know that one was there.

He started mumbling under his breath. Mike always did that when he was pissed off. “Seriously, how the fuck did this happen?”

Jeremy tried to pull away, but the man made sure he had a secure grasp on the younger as he dragged him over to the desk, sending him a look that said, sit or else.

He pouted. “It’s nothing.”

Mike huffed. “Jeremy, your head is fucking bleeding. It’s something, alright.”

Jeremy made the move to reach for the tablet, lifting the screen in order to wind the music box. He kept the device in his lap.

“I-I’m not joking w-when I say it’s kind of long. Can I tell you a-after we don’t die?”

Mike righted the chair that was lying on the floor, shoving it in Jeremy’s direction. “Fine, smartass,” he huffed. “Tell me after the shift. But if I so much as hear about a fucking finger being laid on you, somebody’s dying tonight. Got it?”

He gave a little roll of his good eye. “Okay, okay.”

It seemed like the rest of the night sped by after that, between Jeremy monitoring the cameras and Mike scaring off any of the animatronics that stopped by the office.

By the time six AM rolled around, Jeremy could barely react when Mike suddenly threw his backpack at him, motioning for him to hurry.

“Go get changed,” he threw his thumb over his shoulder. “And the second you come out, you’re telling me the whole damn story.”

Jeremy gulped. The older man could be scary when he wanted to be.

Mike waited in the main room for the young boy to come out, mind once again wandering. As much as Mike loved the him like a brother, it’s not as if his tiny size and overall fragility didn’t scream Pick me!

His stomach turned, and he found himself dreading all the ideas of what those injuries could mean. Sure, he had been in a fair share of fights in his day, but that was just…brutal. Whoever gave those out had the intetion to seriously hurt or incapacitate someone. The fact that Jeremy played them off like a paper cut didn’t help either, like what he was looking at was something as mundane as a walk through the park.

He didn’t know what his home situation was like, but Jeremy rarely every mentioned his parents positively, if at all. He never mentioned it before, but Mike wasn’t stupid enough to note notice the occasional cut or bruise that appeared on his body.

He didn’t want to pry, but seeing those things alone made him think that someone was hurting him in the worst possible manner.

The creaking of a door echoed down the hall, and Mike looked up to see Jeremy shuffling out the bathroom, awkwardly holding his backpack, half stuffed with the uniform.

His face had looked a bit more touched up, or maybe that was just the effect of the color he wore on his clothing. But his lip was cleaned off, and there was a little bandage peaking out from under his hair. Still, the black eye was as obvious as ever, and he doubted anything could be done to cover that up.

He pulled a chair out for himself, stiffly sitting down across from the older night guard.

He blinked. “So, what do you w-want to know?”

He narrowed his eyes, that conversation started clearly being the last thing he expected. He couldn’t help but lean forward a bit, the plastic covering on the party table crinkling under his weight. “I wanna know who fucked up your face, obviously!”

“M-Mike,” Jeremy sighed, it clearly being too early in the morning for him to coherently deal with this. “If you th-think I’m being bullied o-or something, it’s not th-that.”

“There’s a hell of a lot of things that it can be, Fitzgerald,” Mike warned, eyebrows furrowing further. Before his very eyes, those murderous intentions behind eyes seemed to melt into something that could only be found in the well-meaning.

“C’mon, Jeremy. I know it probably sucks talking about it, but I’m only asking ‘cause I don’t want anything to happen to you that doesn’t need to happen.”

Tentatively, he leaned forward, placing a hand on his junior’s shoulder. “Seriously, man. I don’t wanna see shit happen to you, because there’s a lot you already have going on, and it breaks my heart to see shit like this. Talk to me, please?”

Jeremy gave a small smile, thought it didn’t quite reach the side with the split. “Mike, t-trust me- I’m fine.”

“But what happened?”

A hesitant pause.

“O-Okay, so maybe there was a fight?”

“Jeremy!”

The named threw his hands up in mock defense. “W-Wait! To be fair, i-it was in self-defense.”

“I’m laying hands on someone if they hit you.”

“No one hit me, okay!” he whined, that familiar pout puffing his cheeks out again. “I-I wasn’t getting teased o-or bullied or anything like that, so chill o-out.”

He bit his lip, leaning back into the cheap metal chairs of the pizzeria.

“It was for a f-friend.”

Mike paused, and suddenly it all made sense. Despite some of the more heroic antics that Jeremy had shown before, it seemed like he held an overall aversion to fighting. There was a type of guilt that shown in his eyes at any suggestions of violence, and Mike

“At first he a-asked me for help because all three of th-these guys were going to gang up on him, and I told him to fight his own battles because i-it was his fault he was in t-trouble,” he looked across the room again, eyes focusing in on nowhere in particular. “But th-then they started wailing on him at the same time, and I had to jump in, Mike. He was getting-”

He took a breather. “He was getting beat, Mike. Everyone just stood th-there while they tossed him over a table, slamming his head into the floor over and over again. And his girlfriend was just watching him get beat to a pulp, and I couldn’t, Mike.”

He sighed, averting his eyes with a hint of shame.

“So yeah. I did get in a fight t-today. I’m sorry.”

That final look up with those honest ass eyes was all it took for Mike to crumble.

The scowl that previously adorned his face had been replaced in place of an understanding smile. Leave it to Fitzgerald to get his eye basically poked out while trying to defend a friend.

Maybe he wasn’t very strong, and he may have still been a child, but damn if the kid didn’t have some serious balls.

A warm chuckle escaped Mike’s mouth as he stood.

“Huh?” He tilted is head, almost disbelieving. “What’s so funny?”

“Just thinking about how you probably looked out there fighting guys twice your size.”

Jeremy grinned, slinging is backpack over his shoulder, right on the man’s heels.

Closer to the entrance doors, Mike spoke up with a, “So?”

“S-So what?”

He turned, hands shoved in his pockets. “Get any good hits in?”

Jeremy nodded his head sheepishly, a red tint dusting his cheeks. “I did,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I m-may have overdone it a-a bit, though. I hit a guy in his knee with a chair.”

There was a confusing mix of laughter and surprise to Mike’s voice. He slapped his forehead. “Holy shit! You probably blew his knee out!”

“I hope not. I don’t have the money for a lawsuit.”

Mike barked out a laugh again, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “Man, I’d hate to get on your bad side. Double cross you and the next thing you know, your knees are getting curb stomped by a sleep deprived kid with multicolored hair!”

The teen gave a light laugh, acting as if he didn’t just talk about bashing a guy’s knee in with a chair.

Mike grinned. “I take it you won?”

Jeremy laughed. “Well, maybe not, but we didn’t go down without trying!”

#happy birthday fnaf two!#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf 2 #mike schmidt #jeremy fitzgerald #file

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