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jeremiekroubodagnini · 7 months

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THE ROCKET-LIKE RISE OF LEE SCRATCH PERRY INTO THE CONTEMPORARY ART WORLD

Lee Perry: A Pop Artist

Altogether dancer, singer, musician, producer, eccentric, visionary, shaman and genius, Lee “Scratch” Perry is to Jamaican music, some would say, what Sun Ra is to free jazz, George Clinton to funk or Salvador Dali to painting. Born in 1936, in the small town of Kendal in Jamaica, Lee “Scratch” Perry participated in a concrete way in each of the important stages of the history of Jamaican music. A true pillar of reggae and dub, his innovations have left their mark on many other musical genres around the world, including: US rap; UK punk, jungle, ambient and trip-hop; Japanese electronic music; without forgetting European techno and avant-garde music. Today, Lee Perry is no longer of this world, in the flesh at least. He died late August 2021 at the age of 85. Nevertheless, his name unquestionably stays in vogue. It is still on the lips of pop stars like the Rolling Stones, The Orb, The Roots and Major Lazer, and we can also gradually hear it spreading in the contemporary art world.

The Black Ark: Sound and Image

Lee Perry always evolved into a very personal visual universe, starting with his legendary home recording studio, the Black Ark, at the origin of the most innovative sounds of the second half of the 1970s in Jamaica. Originally thought to be a sort of sanctuary for Rastafarians, the Black Ark was a very confusing place, whose walls were covered in cryptic inscriptions and floors served as dumping grounds for installations and other DIY projects, all of them being zanier than the next – a sculpture was even embedded inside one of the walls, says his ex-wife, Pauline Morrison, in People Funny Boy written by David Katz (2000: 324).

This Baroque environment was part of the eccentric personality of the genius producer, embodied in an increasingly extravagant look and outfits over the ages: during his final years, he used to dye his hair and beard yellow, green of even pink, and he was decked out in completely fantastical clothes, personalised with pins and other fanciful objects. And when he was not wearing his famous golden baseball cap, adorned with glittering CDs, badges or religious illustrations, he was wearing a Native American feathered war bonnet or a wizard hat.

It is more than clear Lee “Scratch” Perry was an artist with a capital A, a complete, total, full-time artist who did not switch to Rainford Hugh Perry (his real name) in private and who did not lock himself into a single box: the one of music. He did not play a role, he lived through his art full-time and was attracted as much to sounds as to visuals. Indeed, the latter played a significant role in his galaxy, in his symbolism, in his perception of the world. According to Perry himself, the image was the preferred channel for conveying messages (often subliminal), it was therefore necessary for him to be wary of them and to be able to reappropriate them. In some way, it can enable us to understand his involvement (conscious or unconscious) in the visual arts, which by the way was not recent. Indeed, reading his brilliant biography written by David Katz, we can easily realize that Perry had always been interested in his physical and cultural environment, the objects that surrounded him as well as the pop culture into which he loved to dig.

Even in the late 1950s, long before he began his musical career, when he worked in construction in Negril and drove bulldozers, Perry focused his attention on the noises associated with construction work and the energies of machines as they came into conflict with nature, one can read in People Funny Boy. He even reported an almost supernatural experience, resulting in his departure from this seaside resort located at the far western part of Jamaica to the capital Kingston in the early 1960s: “I get an overload from throwing stones down there for maybe two weeks. I started making positive connection with stones, by throwing stones to stones I start to hear sounds. When the stones clash I hear the thunder clash, and I hear lightening flash, and I hear words, and I don’t know where the words them coming from. These words send me to King-stone: to Kingston” (2000: 8).

Until the end of his life, stones occupied a pre-eminent place in his resolutely mystical universe. He regularly collected them, piled them up, carried them to various places, and even cooked them in a pot on the fire. In the late 1970s, that is precisely what happened, says Pauline Morrison, in their home in Washington Gardens, Kingston, which also housed his legendary recording studio.

“Pauline has claimed she was preparing a meal one afternoon when she noticed an odd smell coming from the kitchen. When she checked the pot, she found that Scratch had emptied the simmering contents into the mud of the yard, substituting a pan full of rocks in their place on the fire” (2000: 324). “If you see our house, this guy write all kind of shit on the wall, on the fence…” (2000: 323). And the Jamaican singer, Vicky Nelson, added, “my foot would be in paint, I would get rocks and all those nature things” (2000: 345).

As Pauline Morrison and Vicky Nelson suggest, Lee Perry also paid a great importance to writing and painting at the time of Black Ark. We must indeed go back very far in time to understand the links he developed with the visual arts and everything encompassed by this generic term: calligraphy, graffiti, assemblages, collages, installations, and painting among others. In short, everything that would make up his artistic inventory alongside his music. Lee “Scratch” Perry had always been a compulsive sketcher and graffiti artist, feeling a certain need to fill, if not to say overload, empty surfaces. From the end of the 1970s onwards, he even seemed to pay as much attention to the decoration of his studio as to musical production at times.

"Jean-Michel Basquiat himself called him a significant source of inspiration for his paintings"

Moreover, it is not surprising that at that time Lee Perry also commissioned art from Rastafarian artist Jah Wise to decorate the Black Ark. Indeed, he had the walls surrounding the studio decorated with huge, multicoloured murals painted by Robert Van Campbell aka Jah Wise. A portrait of Haile Selassie was placed just above the door so that all would have to ‘bow’ to Jah upon entering or leaving; to the left of his head was Selassie in his feline form as the Conquering Lion of Judah. Another wall had a life-size mural of the Super Ape, tree and spliff in hand, while the inside of the studio depicted African ancestors in chains and Rastafarian tri-colour flags. As time passed, such images would be altered and re-cast as Perry sought to express different concepts; like the music that was coming from inside the studio, its illustrated walls would seldom remain static. He also erected a sign with a ‘Management Order’ by the front gate, proclaiming that the premises included the site of a private house where women and children lived; all who sought to enter were to wait for official permission and once inside, were to refrain from using indecent language. (In People Funny Boy, French edition, 2012: 476-477).

© Adrian Boot, 1978. Lee Perry and his son, Mark (aka Omar), at the Black Ark. In the background there is a glimpse of the “Super Ape” painting done by Jah Wise. Part of JKD’s private photo collection.

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Lee “Scratch” Perry outside Black Ark Studios, Jamaica, 1977, premium footage from the Don Letts Archive available on YouTube.

All things considered, Lee Perry’s artistic source of creation originated far away back in time and widely developed during the seething cultural period of the Black Ark. Back in the 1970s, Lee Perry was already considering himself as a multi-disciplinary Artist and was already in contact with avant-garde people not only from Jamaica but also from England (Don Letts, John Lydon from the Sex Pistols, The Clash etc.).

After the Black Ark was destroyed by fire on one morning in the summer of 1983, Lee Perry experienced a very long period of exile, first in England, then in Switzerland where he moved out at the end of the 1980s with his new and last wife, a sultry queen of the Zurich nightlife, born Mireille Ruegg, only daughter of a couple of Swiss restaurateurs, who would become his manager. It was then that he started to show more and more interest in art, in a more professional way shall we say, the collections of four-handed paintings executed with British visual artist, Peter Harris, first between 2007 and 2009, then between 2014 and 2015, constituting a very good illustration of the extent of his pictorial work.

The Meeting with British Visual Artist Peter Harris

“How does a 40-year-old white British artist meet up with a 70-year-old black shaman from Jamaica and make a real connection? I am not a Rastafarian black man from the ghettos of Trench Town, I am a lower middle class Catholic son of an absent submariner father who moved from place to place and, as a consequence, has no ‘roots’ to speak of. This has led to a lifetime of what I suspect will be an unachievable search for home. I have lived through a series of popular culture ‘father figures’ who have been inspirational guides such as Bob Dylan, Francis Bacon, Johnny Rotten and Picasso, and Lee is one I’ve been lucky enough to meet in person. […] Lee’s experience and understanding - or “overstanding” - of Babylon is very different to my version of it. Lee’s version of Babylon might come from the Rasta’s view of western society as being corrupt, a world of ‘politricks’ and oppressors of Rastafarians. My version of Babylon is also about a society that oppresses our lives, but it is more about the unrelenting trajectory of existence. It might go something like this: birth, school, dreams, peer pressure, music, drugs for fun, student loans, love, jobs, depression, pressure, holidays, insecurity, mortgage, drugs for escaping, children, stress, peer pressure, cars, responsibilities, doubts, reality, panic attacks, bills, new clothes. In it but not of it, pets, vet bills, gym, mid-life crisis, new haircuts, hair loss, beer bellies, guilt, cigarettes, alcohol, food, cancer, medicine, pensions, fear, death” (interview conducted with Peter Harris by JKD, 2014).

In February 2005, Lee “Scratch” Perry responded positively to a request from Peter Harris who wanted him to be in a film he was working on, called Higher Powers. “I wanted different sorts of people who represented different kinds of higher powers,” Harris explains, “almost archetypal people. It might be a powerful gangster outside the law or a police chief, to someone with a spiritual higher power, or someone who totally doesn’t believe in higher powers. For the creative higher powers, or the visionary people, I thought of Ken Russell and Lee Perry” (2012: 898).

The concept was an appealing one for Perry, so permission was granted for Harris to film him at home on February 14th. The British visual artist interviewed him on various themes such as: destiny, faith, redemption, luck, love, doubt, etc. He then returned to London to edit the results. Subsequently, Peter Harris planned further filming sessions with Perry for the same film project. On October 1, 2007, Peter Harris' film, Higher Powers, was screened for the first time at the Lüneburg Art Hall in Germany. Perry appeared in the company of such controversial personalities as former gangster Dave Courtney, gay rights activist Peter Tatchell, Conservative politician Boris Johnson, Reverend Joanna Jepson (who has campaigned against the use of abortion for “eugenic reasons”), paranormal spoon-bender Uri Geller, Tibetan Buddhist monk Akong Tulku Rinpoche, and conspiracy theorist David Icke (2012: 910). Some years earlier, Harris had approached performers such as David Bowie, Siouxsie Sioux and members of the Stranglers, for ideas that he could turn into paintings; with a similar concept in mind, Harris returned to Switzerland in November 2007 to make a series of collaborative drawings with Lee Perry, ultimately inducting Perry into the world of fine arts.

“I’d done a Self-Portraits by Proxy series before,” Harris explains, “in which every person who had affected my life and influenced me, I asked for an idea, and then made that idea into a painting, but with Lee, it was a bit different. I called him up and said, ‘I’ve got these themes from the film, and I want you to give me the first image that comes into your head’; I’d say, ‘Luck,’ or whatever, and he would come up with some mad image, and I’d make it a drawing. Then I took all the drawings to his place in Switzerland, and he said we should cut them up; he was remixing them, like a record, taking something from one drawing and placing it with another, and it was more like a ceremony, or an Obeah ritual, so he spent a lot of time trying on different hats and costumes, as if he was getting into character. We started work at seven, and worked right through till four in the morning, and he had one CD that was just on repeat the whole time” (2012: 911).

On September 10th, Perry performed a special live dub set at London’s Tabernacle, with Adrian Sherwood at the mixing desk and live video animation behind him, as the climax of the “Higher Powers” art exhibition arranged by Peter Harris, which showcased the drawings the pair had produced in 2007, as well as a number of collaborative paintings they made together in Switzerland on August 15th 2009. The artwork dealt with typical Perry themes, such as social injustice, religious dogma, the unequal distribution of wealth, sex, and personal vengeance; some of the paintings bore the man’s handprints and footprints as well, while both paintings and drawings were marked by Perry’s declamatory graffiti (2012: 920). Images of the painting sessions carried out jointly by Peter Harris and Lee Perry in 2007 and 2009 as well as footages from the Tabernacle exhibition are viewable in the documentary, Lee Scratch Perry's Vision of Paradise, directed by Volker Schaner in 2015, an excellent film which also retraces the unusual trajectory of Lee Perry and clearly reflects the great part that art played in his daily life.

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Lee Scratch Perry’s Vision of Paradise by Volker Schaner.

And as for the hundred works of art that the two artists made together between 2014 and 2015, they draw their inspiration from the Bible, from the Book of Revelation in particular.“With its tales of evil deeds, redemption and the apocalypse. It is rich in imagery, metaphor and parables. A parable is not a literal thing. It would not make sense to our modern minds, informed by readily available facts, to take it so. Language and visual language are vehicles for getting at some ‘truth’ as truth is often inexpressible” (interview conducted with Peter Harris by JKD, 2014).

This meeting with Peter Harris was clearly a step forward for Lee Perry into the world of contemporary art.

“Ja Pay” © Peter Harris and Lee “Scratch” Perry, biro pen and permanent marker pen on paper, 42 x 42 cm, 2007.

“Zis Is Black Ark” © Peter Harris and Lee “Scratch” Perry, collage, biro and pencil on paper, 42 x 42 cm, 2007.

“Judgement Com Yow” © Peter Harris and Lee “Scratch” Perry, marker pen, oil, acrylic paint on canvas, 123 x 109 cm, 2009.

“Super Ape” © Peter Harris and Lee “Scratch” Perry, biro pen, marker pen, felt tip and gold leaf paint on paper, 30 x 42 cm, 2014-2015.

“Super Man in Space” © Peter Harris and Lee “Scratch” Perry, biro pen, marker pen, felt tip and gold leaf paint on paper, 30 x 42 cm, 2014-2015.

The Rise of Lee Perry into the Contemporary Art World

A contemporary artist status confirmed by his induction into the Pantheon of sculptures made by Xavier Veilhan - using a 3D scanner - and held simultaneously in New York and Paris in the spring of 2015. During this double exhibition organised around music and simply named “Music”, the French visual artist wanted to pay tribute to the great music producers who had been shaping the soundtrack of our time, including Philippe Zdar, Pharrell Williams, Quincy Jones, Daft Punk, Rick Rubin, Brian Eno and Lee “Scratch” Perry. The latter therefore appeared in this impressive list of geniuses (around twenty in total), whose collectors are now snapping up statues made from a range of varied materials (from wood to metal through polyurethane resin).

“Lee Scratch Perry”, © Xavier Veilhan, “Music” exhibition, aluminium-filled polyurethane resin, plywood, acrylic paint, varnish, 122,5 x 62 x 86 cm, 2015.

What followed was a portrait (on paper this time) dedicated to him by the monthly art French magazine, Beaux-Arts, in 2017, on the occasion of the exhibition “Jamaica Jamaica!” held at the Paris Philharmonic (April 4-August 13, 2017), where the above-mentioned statue created by Xavier Veilhan was moreover exhibited.

Lee Perry made the front cover of other art magazines, such as the Italian biannual, Kaleidoscope, in 2020-2021.

Finally, alongside all this, Lee Perry's visual artworks have been the subjects of numerous personal and group exhibitions around the world, starting with his very first solo exhibition held at the Californian gallery Dem Passwords from November 13 to December 11, 2010 under the name “Secret Education”.

Three other solo exhibitions were organised by this same gallery in 2013 (“Repent Americans” from April 20 to June 15), 2014 (“The Death of Baphomet” from August 29 to October 11) and 2016 (“Judgment Repentance God Order” from June 16 to July 30).

"these many art exhibitions around the world have coincided with the new curatorial team responsible for the visual estate of Lee “Scratch” Perry and headed by Lorenzo Bernet (...) this new, fresh and dynamic curatorial team seems to come up with creative and innovative ideas"

In that same year, Lee Perry also did an art show in New York, from June 29 to July 29, 2016 as part of a collective exhibition entitled “A Being in the World” and held at Salon 94 on the lower east side of Manhattan. His pieces of work were thus exhibited alongside those of a very heterogeneous panel of artists, including the African-American self-taught artist and former slave, Bill Traylor (1854-1949), and Maia Ruth Lee (born in 1983 in South Korea).

Then, Lee Perry multiplied international shows: at the Swiss Institute in New York in 2019, at the 2021 São Paulo Bienal, at the Museum of Contemporary Art of Rome in 2022, and at the Cabinet Gallery in London as well as at the 2023 Art Cologne international art fair, just to name a few. In total, Lee Perry actively took part in no less than fifteen international exhibitions between 2016 and 2023, and almost half of them in the last couple of years, which is the guarantee of a rocket-like rise on the contemporary art scene. Regarding this latter point, it is crucial to emphasize that these many art exhibitions around the world have coincided with the new curatorial team responsible for the visual estate of Lee “Scratch” Perry and headed by Lorenzo Bernet, a Zurich-based gallerist, curator and art dealer who is also the man behind the suns.works gallery. Therefore, it might be no exaggeration to say that this art world rocket rise relates to this new, fresh and dynamic curatorial team that seems to come up with creative and innovative ideas.

“Flood Sun” © Lee Scratch Perry, collage, markers and acrylic on wooden board, 60 x 100 cm, 2020. Courtesy: The Visual Estate of Lee Scratch Perry / suns.works.

“Genesis” © Lee Scratch Perry, collage and acrylic on paper, 70 x 50 cm, 2020. Courtesy: The Visual Estate of Lee Scratch Perry / suns.works.

“Pisces and Aries (Yin Yang)” © Lee Scratch Perry, collage and acrylic on canvas, 170 x 140 cm, 2020. Courtesy: The Visual Estate of Lee Scratch Perry / suns.works.

It is also important to underline the presence of some of his drawings, paintings, collages and other installations in the collections of art aficionados like Sir Raymond Douglas Davies aka Ray Davies (former songwriter and lead vocalist for the legendary British rock band the Kinks), English record producer Adrian Sherwood (Coldcut, Depeche Mode, Primal Scream, Sinéad O'Connor, Lee “Scratch” Perry, Dennis Bovell), Mexican producer, remixer and composer Camilo Lara, and the British artist couple formed by Tim Noble and Sue Webster, as well as prestigious institutions such as the Bonnefanten Museum in Maastricht (NL). Others should soon be included in the permanent collections of the National Gallery of Jamaica as well as the Smithsonian Institution in Washington which currently investigates, along with the National Museum of African American History and Culture, Afrofuturist expression through art, music, and activism among others: an exhibition (March 23, 2023 – August 18, 2024) in which Lee “Scratch” Perry appears next to avant-garde jazz legend Sun Ra and the leader of African American Funkadelic style George Clinton - the threesome being tied to raw, original and pioneering Black aesthetic forms. And again, one owes this real tour de force to the new curatorial team headed by Lorenzo Bernet!

“Blue Ark (studio view)” © Lee Scratch Perry, 2016-2021. Photo: Camille Spiller. Courtesy: The Visual Estate of Lee Scratch Perry / suns.works.

“Blue Ark with TV Sculpture (studio view)” © Lee Scratch Perry, 2016-2021. Photo: Camille Spiller. Courtesy: The Visual Estate of Lee Scratch Perry / suns.works.

“Blue Ark (studio view)” © Lee Scratch Perry, 2016-2021. Photo: Claude Barrault. Courtesy: The Visual Estate of Lee Scratch Perry / suns.works.

Last but not least, the resale of some of his artworks at auctions needs to be mentioned too, let alone the fact that Jean-Michel Basquiat himself called him a significant source of inspiration for his paintings, according to multi-disciplinary artist Lee Jaffe as well as the Gagosian Quarterly (Winter 2021 Issue).

A whole set of signals which suggests a more than bright future for Lee “Scratch” Perry in the modern and contemporary art world.

“Vanity Struck Me in My Tooth”, © Lee Jaffe in collaboration with Jean-Michel Basquiat, acrylic on Cibachrome print, 203 x 122 cm, 1983.

“Avenge” © Peter Harris and Lee “Scratch” Perry, marker pen, oil, acrylic paint on canvas, 124 x 95 cm, 2009. This work of art has been bought by Adrian Sherwood; it can be seen in the video below shot in 2022 in the deck-out living room of the producer.

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Horace Andy : Tiny Desk (Home) Concert.

Books :

People Funny Boy: The Genius of Lee “Scratch” Perry, David Katz, 2000, Canongate Books, 538 pages.

Lee “Scratch” Perry: People Funny Boy, David Katz, 2012, Camion Blanc, 990 pages (French edition).

People Funny Boy: The Genius of Lee “Scratch” Perry, David Katz, 2021, Orion Publishing Group Limited, 688 pages (revised and expanded English edition).

Lee Scratch Perry: Black Ark, Andreas Koller & Lorenzo Bernet (Ed.), publication expected in July 2024, Edition Patrick Fey, 600 pages (500 illustrations).

Films :

Lee Scratch Perry’s Vision of Paradise, Volker Schaner, 2015, 100 min.

This article is the English, revised and expanded version of my paper published on Reggae.fr on 30 November 2023. © Jérémie Kroubo Dagnini (JKD).

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fific7 · 3 years

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Fake or Fortune

For @omgrachwrites 1K Follower Celebration - congratulations!

AU: Fake Relationship

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it takes place in my Alternative S1 Punisher Universe, with Arrogant!Billy in attendance.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, slightly questionable consent, some dom/sub interaction, oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Swearing and drinking.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My Photo Edit)

Karen put a large G&T down in front of you, accompanied by a sympathetic look. You picked it up and took a large sip, sighing as you put it back down again.

“I give up, Karen. No matter what I do, without fail I either pick the wrong guy or else think everything’s fine, and then boom - it isn’t.”

This was a commiseration drinking session, which Karen had suggested after she’d noticed you moping around the office. You both worked at the same big newspaper but in different departments, and became good friends after spending numerous lunchtimes together in the staff restaurant.

“What happened this time?” she asked, then winced as she realised maybe that wasn’t the most tactful way of putting things. “I mean, I thought you and David were getting on really well?” You took a larger gulp of your drink, “Well, that’s the thing - so did I. Until I got the “it’s not you, it’s me” talk on Saturday.” You’d been seeing this guy from your Digital News Content section for a few months, and you’d really thought everything had been on track.

Karen sighed, “Oh lord, not that old pile of bullshit.” You nodded, “Yeah, right. I tried to pin him down to exactly what the problem was, but I guess it was just me, when it all came down to it. In fact, I saw him chatting up a girl from Accounts yesterday so he’s already moved on to pastures new. That didn’t take long, did it? Or maybe he’d already moved on but didn’t have the balls to tell me.”

“Look, I’m meeting up with Frank on Friday night for a drink...” her cheeks pinked up, and you smiled at her obvious pleasure in that thought, “....so why don’t you come along? He mentioned one of his friends might tag along.” You held up a hand, “Oh no! No! I’m not being set up.” She shook her head, “It’s not a set-up, I swear. They’ve got a little....issue.... with Homeland and we’re going to talk about it.”

You knew she’d recently met this ex-Marine called Frank when - in her role as investigative reporter - she’d been digging into some big CIA scandal. When was there not a scandal about the CIA, you thought. You knew she’d met him several times over the past couple of weeks and had detected a more-than-just-business interest in him. “Oh, so.... strictly business, then?” you teased. She shifted in her seat, “Well, mainly.... we’ve also been talking about more personal stuff.” “Uh-huh,” you nodded, smirking, “Karen fancies Frank, Karen fancies Frank!” you sang, while she batted your arm and gave an embarrassed laugh.

“Oh shut up, you,” she said, “...are you coming along or not?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

And that’s why you found yourself sitting in a neighbourhood bar with Karen on Friday night, feeling quite nervous for some reason. Probably because Karen was fidgeting like hell next to you, and you were picking up on her nervous energy. You smiled over at her, “So you really like this guy, huh?” “No!”she denied, then as you raised an eyebrow at her, “Well... okay, yes I do like him. He’s so sweet.” Her eyes widened as she spoke, catching sight of two approaching figures, “Oh! Here he comes.” A big bear of a man came up to your table, smiling broadly at Karen and then including you in the smile as he stopped beside you. “Hey, Karen,” he greeted her, and she beamed back at him. “Hey, Frank,” and then she introduced you to him. His friend, who’d been partially blocked from your sight by Frank’s bulk, moved out from behind him and said ‘Hi - I’m Billy Russo,’ and shook your hand as he did so. “Nice ta meet ya,” said Frank, also shaking your hand and sitting down in the booth next to Karen.

The man who’d just introduced himself as Billy slid in next to you, and you tried not to stare. He was hot. Like, really hot. Dressed in a smart suit and overcoat, he really didn’t look like an ex-Marine, but Karen had told you that both Frank and his friend were ex-service, and that the friend had opened up a security firm called Anvil when he left the Marines. His handsome face turned towards you, and two very dark eyes looked into yours, “So.... you’re a friend of Karen’s?” You nodded, “Yeah, we just worked together to start with but now we’re besties.” “You a reporter too?” “Nah, I’m a lowly sub-editor on the news desk.” A sudden thought occurred to you, “Oh... and just to reassure you, this isn’t a set-up... you and me, I mean.” He smirked, and you found yourself staring at his lush brushed-back hair and sculpted jaw with its light beard. “Would it have been a big problem if it had been?” he was saying to you, and you shook yourself out of your little trance.

“No, I guess not...” you replied, laughing nervously, “...but I just wanted to get it out there.” He looked you over appraisingly, “Well, I wouldn’t have been disappointed at all,” the smirk got bigger, “....so if you change your mind, just let me know.” This left you speechless but he was still looking at you, asking, “Whaddya want to drink? First round’s on me,” before turning his gaze to the others.

Several beers later, you were sitting listening to the other three talking about a lot of indecipherable nonsense (from your point of view), and you were beginning to get antsy. “Karen, I’m going to head off,” you said in a break in the conversation and she looked slightly guilty, “Oh sorry... we’ve been going on about this for ages.” You shrugged, “It’s fine, Karen, honestly. I’ll see you Monday, okay? Have a great weekend.” You turned to the guys, “You too, and thanks for the drinks,” and made to move out of the booth. But Billy didn’t move. “See you home?” he questioned you, and you saw small smiles on both Karen and Frank’s faces. “Yeah, okay,” you nodded, and then he moved, standing aside as you slid out of the booth. As you headed to the door through the crowd of people, you felt his arm snaking around your lower back. Oooh, very confident, you thought. You’d marked him out as a player as soon as you’d set eyes on him.

“Sorry about the boring shop talk,” he said as you both hit the street, “....me and Frankie’ve got some problems with Homeland right now.” “That doesn’t sound good,” you said as you found yourself being guided around the corner from the bar. “Oh, I was going to take the subway,” you protested, but he shook his head, “This time on a Friday night? Nah.” He pointed towards a rather flashy-looking car parked in the street, “Got the car with me so I’ll take you home. I only had one beer, case you didn’t notice.” “I didn’t,” you admitted, “I thought you were sinking beers like the rest of us.” He gave a low laugh, “I was a sniper in the service, so I like to be aware of my surroundings at all times.” A little frisson ran through you, this guy was quite dangerous, you could tell. As you reached the car, he held the passenger door open for you and you climbed in, trying to be as elegant as possible although you weren’t sure you quite achieved that.

As he started the engine and moved the car out into the flow of traffic, he asked, “So what made you come along tonight if it wasn’t a set-up?” “I was bored. I just split up with my boyfriend of a few months so...” you shrugged. You heard a chuckle, “His loss.” “I don’t think that’s what he thought,” you replied, with a self-deprecating laugh. “Well, it’s true,” said Billy, “...believe me. He must be mad to give you up.” “You silver-tongued charmer,” you said back to him, and again you heard his deep chuckle.

“Seriously, it’s my gain. Look, this might seem a bit of an odd request seein’ as how we’ve only just met...” he began, looking across at you as he pulled up outside your apartment block, “....but you’d be doin’ me a big favour. How ‘bout you come along to this charity event I gotta go to next week? As my ‘plus one’?” You hesitated, and he carried on, “No strings, I promise. Just come along as my girlfriend and be on my arm all night. Help me ward off the attentions of someone I’d rather avoid.” You scoffed, “Fake dating? Really?!”

Much to your surprise, you found yourself walking into your building a few minutes later having just agreed to go to this event with Billy. He’d looked pleased, thanking you for saying yes. And you’d also been on the receiving end of a surprise kiss from him. He’d suddenly leant in, slid his big hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in, his mouth finding yours as he did. The kiss had been short but very sexy and you were still tingling from the after-effects.

He’d laughed at your look of total surprise, and wished you sweet dreams. You’d better be careful, warned your internal guardian angel, he said ‘No Strings’.... remember? So don’t go getting all invested in this guy. He’s a player.... for sure.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy and you had swapped numbers, and the following morning you were pleasantly surprised to get a text asking if you could meet him later that day. Intrigued, you texted back saying you didn’t have any other plans but why did he need to meet up? He came back saying he’d had an idea to help out with the event next week, and said he could pick you up. Feeling like you could be making a big mistake, you agreed so he said he’d be at your place around two.

You made sure you dressed casually. Not having any idea where you were going, but sure it wouldn’t be a date as such, you just chose a shirt and jeans with some suede ankle boots. When Billy texted you to say he was parked outside, you left your apartment and locked up, feeling a spark of excitement run through you as you did. “This is not a date, this is not a date, this is not a date!” you chanted in your head as you went downstairs. Billy, you saw with relief, was also dressed casually in jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and combat boots. He gave you a big grin as you got in the car, the luxurious leather aroma of the interior filling your nostrils. “What make of car is this?” you asked, being an “it’s a black one” kind of girl. He gave you what could only be described as a smug smile, “Rolls Royce Wraith, sweetheart,” he answered. “Oh, okay,” you said, “....expensive, I take it?” “Very.” “Surprised you park it on the street the way you do then,” you shrugged, and he burst out laughing. “Is it one of those so-called penis extensions?” you asked next, and Billy nearly choked he was laughing so hard.

“Firstly, I take it that means you aren’t particularly impressed,” he gasped, getting his breath back after his laughing fit, “...and secondly, no darlin’, it definitely isn’t one of those ‘penis extensions‘ as you put it. Got no need for one-a those.” You returned his smirk, “Really? Well, I don’t care what car a guy drives,” you said firmly, “...that’s got nothing to do with what he’s like.” He glanced across at you as he swung the car into one of the downtown underground car parks. “And what do you think I’m like?” You looked at his profile as he concentrated on parking the big car in a corner space, “Mmmm... I think you’ve had a hard upbringing and now you’re making up for it. Big time.”

Billy switched the engine off and turned to stare at you, the dark eyes drilling into yours with an intensity you hadn’t been expecting. “Wow,” said Billy, “....you sure you’re not one-a these psychoanalysts or somethin’?” “Definitely,” you replied. “Well, you sure sound like you’ve been analysing me, sweetheart,” he said. You didn’t know him well enough to gauge his mood, and he carried on, “I mean, you got all that from meetin’ me last night and just now?” You nodded, saying neutrally, “I’m just speculating of course... but the expensive suits, the car, and I bet a big flashy apartment too, it just says ‘I can afford this now and I’m gonna enjoy it’ to me.” You were relieved to hear a chuckle as you’d been worried you’d really offended him. “Spot on,” he said, “...yeah, you’re spot on. I think you’re maybe in the wrong business.” You decided to change the subject, “So... where are we going, Billy?” “You’ll see in a minute,” he grinned, “....c’mon, let’s go sweetheart.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Minutes later, you were standing outside one of the expensive and trendy boutiques in the area. Billy’s hand went under your elbow and he steered you inside. “Billy... what’s going on?” He nodded to one of the staff who started making her way over to the two of you. “Look, it was my bright idea to drag you along to this thing, so the least I can do is treat you to a new outfit.” You were shaking your head before he’d stopped speaking, “Oh no, no... I can’t let you do that!” He was nodding back at you - it must’ve looked quite comical to the store assistant, “Oh yes, you will - I insist.” He turned to the woman, “Please can you help my girlfriend pick out an outfit for a formal event?” And before you could say anything else, he’d wandered over to a seating area near the changing rooms and seated himself in a comfortable armchair. “I’ll be right here, sweets,” he said, beaming at you. Girlfriend indeed, you thought.

The store assistant looked expectantly at you and you nodded hesitantly at her, so she led you over to some rails filled with lots of beautiful dresses. “How nice of your boyfriend to buy you a whole new outfit,” she commented, beginning to slide the dresses back and forth along the rail looking for a selection for you, “He’s very charming,” she continued, admiringly. “Yes, isn’t he,” you said between gritted teeth. Truthfully, you were feeling as if you were out shopping with your sugar daddy. But you had to admit that your bank account would’ve been protesting loudly if you’d had to make the purchase yourself, and you definitely would’ve had to buy something new as nothing in your wardrobe was even remotely suitable for a formal event. And he was right, this was all his bright idea. So you’d just suck it up, you thought, however reluctantly.

Eventually the assistant had several dresses folded over her arm for you to try on, and you sailed past Billy to the changing rooms without as much as a glance at him. But you just knew he was staring at you as disappeared behind the curtain.

After twenty minutes of struggling in and out of the various dresses, you had to admit that the assistant had made some good choices. There were three that you really liked, and you finally chose a midnight blue silky sheath of mid-thigh length, an asymmetric one-shoulder-strap neckline and a swirl of sequins diagonally across it from neck to hem. It was tight-fitting but didn’t show off an excessive amount of skin - you didn’t want to have it all out there on show after all.

The assistant had also brought several pairs of shoes to you once you’d chosen your dress, and you picked out a pair of matching delicate strappy sandals. Pleased with your choices, you put your own clothes back on and went out to find Billy. He looked up from his phone as you exited the changing room, a disappointed look on his face, “What.... no catwalk show for your boyfriend?” You leant down and whispered, “Okay, you’re laying it on a bit thick, Russo,” to which he grinned, gently took hold of your chin and softly kissed you. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he smirked. Then a horrible thought occurred to you, “Billy!” you whispered forcefully. He looked a bit nervously at you, “What?” “There was no price tag on that dress or the shoes either!” He waved a hand at you, “Yeah? That’s okay, just leave it to me.” “No! That’s not on. I’m going to ask her what the price is.” He jumped up out of the armchair, “Nah, nah! Told ya, it was my idea you come along so just let me do this, okay?”

He set off without further delay to the cash desk, while you reluctantly waited in the seating area. Not particularly comfortable with the idea of him buying you an outfit, you decided that you’d offer to buy him dinner to kind of offset his no doubt hefty bill for the dress purchase. He came back over to you a few moments later carrying a large box in one of the boutique’s carrier bags which he handed to you with a grin. “She’d already boxed it before I could see it so it’s still gonna be a surprise when I see it on the night.” You smirked back, you were quite pleased about that. “Billy, let me buy you dinner as a thank you for the dress.” “Okay, I won’t say no to a free dinner,” he grinned, “...where d’ya wanna go?” You mentally reviewed your bank balance and named a mid-priced restaurant close by.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a pleasant couple of hours chatting over dinner, Billy drove you home. Debating how to end the night, you came up with what you felt was a decent plan. Not that you were trying to extend the evening of course. That would be just plain stupid as the ‘relationship’ was all a big fake. Remember? your brain asked you. “You know Billy, we haven’t prepared a back story yet, have we?” you said as he drew up outside your place. “A back story?” “Yeah. I mean, if this person you’re trying to avoid happens to ask us - together or separately - about our relationship, we need to be singing from the same songsheet, don’t we?” He looked thoughtful, “Uh yeah, you’ve got a point there.” “OK, well how about you come in for a glass of wine or a coffee and we can get that sorted now?” A devilish smirk appeared, “Plannin’ to ravish me, sweetheart?”

You felt your face heat up with a sudden blush, “No!! Purely to agree on the back story. But hey - we can just text about it if you’d prefer!” Embarrassed, you grabbed your bags, opened the car door and began to get out, but Billy grabbed your arm, “Hey, hey, sweetheart - I’m just kiddin’. Hold on an’ I’ll park up. We can walk up together.” You huffed slightly and closed the car door again, while Billy looked around for a parking space. Once parked, the two of you went up to your apartment and you unlocked the door, waving him inside and over to the sofa while you stashed the bags and headed to the kitchen area. “What would you like? Wine, beer or coffee?” “I’d better just have a coffee,” he said, “...don’t wanna get drunk and pass out in your apartment. Not a good look.” “I don’t see you as a ‘getting drunk’ kinda guy, Billy. You already told me you like to be aware of your surroundings.” He laughed, “You’re right, I don’t make a habit of gettin’ wasted.”

So you switched on your coffee machine and asked what kind of coffee he’d like, holding up a handful of different capsules. He strolled over to you, draping his leather jacket over the back of one of the high stools at your breakfast bar as he reached you. He leaned down slightly and looked at the selection you had in your hand, and you were suddenly very aware of the scent of his aftershave. “Whattya got there, then?” You took his hand and dumped them all in it, saying, “I’m just gonna fill up the water jug while you decide,” and moving swiftly away from him. You were finding it very difficult indeed to ignore the magnetic attraction he was exerting over you, but you really had to try harder as you were only going to end up getting hurt otherwise. He held out a capsule toward you, “Americano’s fine,” he said.

The two cups of coffee made a few moments later, you led him back over to the sofa and you both sat down at opposite ends. “Okayyyy,” said Billy, “....back story then?” You nodded, “Yeah. Nothing too fancy as the less details we have to remember the better.” “Good idea. We should probably add in some truth too. So.... we met through Karen & Frank?” “Yes, that’s a good start. Where did we meet and how long have we been seeing each other?” “Neighbourhood bar, and a coupla months?” “Okay, yeah. Actually is that about it? That was easier than I thought! Or...what else might they ask? Who is this person you’re avoiding - are they gonna be really nosy?” Billy snorted, “Oh yeah! Her name’s Caroline, a spoilt rich bitch. Her father owns a tech company and he supplies some of our equipment. She came along to one of the meetings recently and now she’s stalking me.” You grinned, “And that’s a problem for you? I would’ve thought you’d quite enjoy that, Billy.”

He grinned back, “Are you sayin’ I’m a player or somethin’?” “Well, aren’t you? I’m kinda getting that vibe.” Now he laughed out loud, “Maybe. But I like doin’ the chasing, sweetheart, not the other way round. If she ever got hold-a me, I’d never get outta her clutches.” “What - you wouldn’t? Not much of an ex-Marine then, are you?” He rolled his eyes, “Seriously, this woman’s so clingy she’d attach herself to me like a limpet mine. And I don’t like violence against women so I’d be in a difficult situation. Plus the main thing’s the business link with her daddy. His stuff’s good, I wouldn’t wanna have to replace him as a supplier. So you see, you’re doing me a solid here.” “When you say stalking you, do you mean literally?” “Well, like turning up at Anvil all the time to ‘check on the equipment’ and shit like that.” “So not outside the office then? I’m just thinking along the lines of her not seeing us around together before the event if she’s around you outside business hours. She might not buy it.” “As far as I know, only in office hours.”

“As far as you know? That’s not exactly reassuring if she’s as much of a stalker as you say she is.” He laughed, “No, I’m sure she’s not around apart from that.” “Okay, well is there anything else you can think of that she might ask?” He gave you a sly grin, “If we’ve slept together.” You got up and took your empty cup over to the kitchen sink, “Uh-huh.... well she can ask! We’ll just have to lie, won’t we?” You turned round only to find Billy invading your personal space again, and you moved back slightly in surprise. He followed, crowding you against the counter, dark eyes gazing into yours, “Uh... we don’t have to lie.” You leaned further back, your brain yelling ‘don’t give in to him!’ at you. “Billy... you suggested this whole thing and you also said ‘no strings’, remember? Well, if we did that... that would be strings, don’t you agree?” He reached round you and put his cup in the sink too, “Yeah, I guess so. Just thought we could make things look a little more.... authentic, y’know?” He turned and grabbed his jacket off the back of the stool, but then took you by surprise again by swooping in for a long kiss, pulling you against his body and his big hand sliding around the back of your neck. You pulled away, trying to catch your breath.

Those espresso-coloured eyes were gazing into yours, a lazy grin on his face. “Hey, you’ll need to get less jumpy when I do that else she’s definitely not gonna buy it.” He stood back from you, shrugging into his jacket, “Might need a bit more practice, sweetheart,” he smirked, “....so how about we meet up again tomorrow? We can learn a bit more about each other, as well as you getting more comfortable when I get physical with you,” and wiggled his eyebrows at you. Against your better judgement, you agreed and so he said he’d pick you up at four the next day.

Once he’d gone, you poured yourself a stiff brandy. You couldn’t deny you wanted to spend more time with him, much as you knew you were setting yourself up for a fall. Really... just what the hell did you think you were doing?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was thinking the very same thing to himself as he drove away. He was enjoying those kisses way too much. But he was the one who’d suggested this whole fake relationship thing, and definitely with ‘no strings’. Because that was the Russo Way.

He’d better get his head back on straight, and stop thinking about the gorgeous woman in the apartment back there as anything other than a way to ditch the very irritating Caroline.

He also got the distinct feeling she’d marked him out as a player and wouldn’t want to get involved with him anyhow. Well, he was a player and he couldn’t deny that. Wasn’t sure he could ever see himself as a one-woman man. Caroline was attractive enough and in the normal way of things, he’d’ve taken her out maybe a couple of times, fucked and then forgotten her. But her father and Billy’s business relationship complicated things somewhat.

So yeah, he’d make sure she saw him with a lovely woman on his arm at the gala, kiss (and maybe fuck if he got lucky) the lovely woman at the end of the night and move right along. Apart from anything else, the fact that she was Karen’s friend complicated things way beyond what he wanted to get involved in, because he couldn’t afford to upset either her or her friend, Frankie’d kill him if he did.

Definitely better stick with the Russo Way. It had never failed him before, had it?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next day, Billy glided the car to a stop outside her apartment block at 4 o’clock as promised, dropping her a quick text to announce his arrival. Soon, he saw her figure walking out of the main door and making her way towards him.

Damn! Mmm, she was looking good. Little pink sundress, short denim jacket, bare legs and low wedge pink sandals. Yeah, really cute. Smart and funny too. And sexy, of course. Very sexy. Totally fuckable. Completely and utterly fuckable. Woah - stop that Russo! Right now!

All these thoughts ran through his head in the 10 seconds it took her to reach the car.

He leant over and pushed open the passenger door for her, “Hi sweetheart.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d noticed Billy’s eyes running over you as you went up to the car, and then spotted his tongue making a swift trip over his bottom lip as he greeted you. You got the feeling he was looking at you like you were a snack to be consumed. Determined to resist how attracted you felt to him, you hopped into the car and said Hi back. Billy’s big hand landed on your thigh as you fastened your seat belt, his long fingers sliding upwards. Batting them away, you continued clipping yourself in and he laughed, leaning across and pulling you to him, kissing you long and slow. Breaking apart, he said, “Remember we gotta practice, sweetheart,” grinning at you. “Mmmhuh,” you nodded, “I remember you saying that.” “Just relax! Get comfortable with me touchin’ and kissin’ you. We’re boyfriend and girlfriend after all.” “Mmmhuh,” you said again, and once more his hand found its way onto your thigh and began stroking, eventually inching upwards again.

This time, you decided to stay still, thinking that yes, you had better get comfortable with this if this whole stupid fake relationship thing was going to work. But when his hand parted your legs and one long slim finger swiftly made its way inside your panties and - without further warning - actually inside you, you jumped like a startled deer and squirmed away from him. “Billy!” you protested loudly, but he merely smirked victoriously at you and pushed a second finger inside you to join its cousin. You shoved at his resistant arm, “Stop it!” His mouth found yours and he began kissing you as his fingers moved steadily in and out of you then his thumb was on your clit, and he began massaging firmly. “Sssshhh, sweetheart, we’re just messin’ around,” you heard his low voice in your ear, “...this is high school stuff.” “But I didn’t say you could do this to me!” you snarled, trying to ignore how good he was making you feel, and you felt his fingers leave you. He sat back in his car seat, taking a tissue out of his jacket pocket and slowly wiping his fingers, looking across at you all the while with a contemplative look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but not sounding regretful at all, “I didn’t think you’d mind. Thought it’d loosen you up a bit like we said.” He smirked at you, “You can’t deny I got you wet, and I know you’re attracted to me. Thought you’d enjoy it.” Your mouth dropped open, “You arrogant fucker!” you exclaimed, “You know what, you can take your fake dating shit and shove it where the sun doesn’t fucking shine!” You jumped out of the car, slamming the door with an almighty bang behind you. Stomping back up to your apartment, you opened your front door and slammed it behind you too, angrily throwing your bag onto the sofa as you passed on your way to the kitchen. You took off your jacket and threw it onto a high stool, furious enough to take a bottle of gin out of the cupboard and grab a clean glass from the dishwasher. You were just taking a bottle of tonic water out of the fridge when there was a knock at your door.

Okay, well that was either your annoying across-the-hall neighbour... who complained about anything and everything... here to moan about the door-slamming, or else it was Billy. Whoever was on the other side of the door was going to be greeted by your frowning face, and you really didn’t give a shit which one it was. You dramatically swung open the door, and it was in fact Billy Russo who was confronted by your unhappy visage. He immediately held up his hands in a placatory gesture. “Look, I am really, truly, sorry. I ... can I come in and explain?” You turned on your heel and walked back to the kitchen, leaving him to close the door behind him and follow in your footsteps. “Want a drink?” He nodded, “I’d love a beer if you’ve got one, please.” You took a bottle of beer out of the fridge and handed it to him, then got a bottle top remover for him out of one of your drawers.

He popped off the cap then took a long swig, as he watched you prepare a G&T for yourself. You also took a big sip then leant back against the counter and regarded him with a steely gaze. “You said you wanted to explain.” He took another gulp of beer and began, “I.... look, I’m so sorry okay? I totally misread the situation.” Sipping your gin, you said, “I’ll say you did, Billy! I get the distinct impression you mistook me for one of the easy lays you no doubt pick up in bars. Is that how you treat your one-and-done’s, huh? Well, don’t try that shit with me, okay?” He looked over at you shamefaced and shrugged, “Uhhh...I ..uhh.. yeah, I guess I did.... look, I really am sorry, sweetheart. I can’t apologise enough, and I really didn’t mean to upset you.” You took another big hit of your gin, slightly - but only very slightly - mollified. “And as for your comment that I’m attracted to you...!!!” Momentarily you were speechless, unsure what you wanted to say or how to put it. Mainly because it was the truth, you acknowledged to yourself.

Before you could say anything, Billy held up his hands again, “I’m incredibly embarrassed about saying that. Really crass. And arrogant, as you said.” You noticed that his face had pinked up somewhat. “In fact just forget I said it,” he carried on. “Bit late for that now isn’t it! Did you say it because you’re used to women falling at your feet, Billy?”

He looked down at the beer bottle in his hand, waggling it back and forward before saying, “Yeah. If I’m honest, I don’t usually haveta try too hard.” His eyes met yours, “And if I’m bein’ even more honest, gotta admit I’m attracted to you. Like, really attracted. So, yeah - I was hoping for something more than just going to the charity event with you.”

You drew in a big breath. What? What did he just say to you? No. You mentally shook your head, and then realised you were actually shaking it. “Billy.... you’re a player, that much is blatantly obvious. Would you know what a relationship is if it came up and bit you on the ass? Something tells me you wouldn’t.” He had the grace to look guilty. You continued, “So here’s what we’ll do. If you still need me to come along to the gala, then I’ll do that. And then we’ll go back to being strangers. Okay?”

He twirled his beer bottle between his long fingers, and shrugged, “Okay, sweetheart. M’happy you’re still gonna help me out. But can’t we at least be friends afterwards? Reckon Karen ‘n Frank’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other so we’ll probably keep bumping into each other.” Your face softened into a smile, “Yeah, they like each other don’t they? You’re right, we probably will be spending some time together because of those two. Okay... friends, then.”

He smiled at you, approaching warily and sliding his hand round to the back of your head and up into your hair, pulling you closer. “M’gonna kiss you, s’that okay?” but being Billy, didn’t wait for your reply. His lips met yours in a gentler kiss than earlier, his fingers stroking the back of your neck. He moved his hips against yours, and you knew he’d done this so you’d feel his erection against your body. You moved sideways and pulled away from him, why did he have to make you breathless when you just wanted to be cool, calm and collected around him? He looked a bit crestfallen, but recovered swiftly and asked, “How about we order in some food and just spend some quality time together?” You sighed, “Okay, Billy, let’s do that. But no more groping or anything, okay?” He nodded, looking serious and miming a cross over his heart, “Promise.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You pushed the pizza box away from you, “God, I’m stuffed.” Billy picked up his beer bottle and drank, giving a small delicate burp as he did so, “Me too.” Reaching over, he picked up the remote and began flicking through Netflix, “Whaddya wanna watch next?” he asked. “Mmmm, you pick a movie. But not one about war.” He laughed, “Oh don’t worry, I never watch war films, had enough-a that in real life.” Lying back and letting out a deep breath, you said apologetically, “I bet you did. Sorry.” Shrugging, he also lay back, his head turning towards you, “S’okay. We can talk about it sometime if you like. And about my less-than-perfect childhood. And some of my more recent fuck-ups.” He gave a bitter laugh, “I’m a fuckin’ train wreck, sweetheart - you’ve made the right decision, best you don’t get involved with me.” His eyes looked big and a bit glossy, and before you could help yourself you’d laid your hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure you’re not that bad, Billy.” He turned away from you, looking at the TV before selecting a sci-fi fantasy movie, “Oh believe me, I am,” he said in a low voice.

You shifted a bit closer to him on the sofa, “Don’t be so down on yourself, Billy. You’ve achieved a lot of things... got your own company, fancy car, fine suits, lots of money, prestige.” He grinned at you, “But all that doesn’t matter to you, does it?” You shook your head, “No, but they’re still achievements to be proud of.” His head dropped and some locks of hair fell over his forehead. “Thank you,” he mumbled, and you watched as your hand went of its own accord to his face and stroked the errant hair back off his forehead. His head swivelled towards you, dark eyes gazing into yours; he took hold of your arms and drew you against his chest. “Can we snuggle?” he asked you, then wrapped his arms right around you, before lying down and swinging his long legs up onto the sofa, pulling you with him. You snorted out a laugh, “Snuggle? That doesn’t exactly fit with your ex-soldier or current playboy personas!” “Aw, c’mon sweetheart, gimme a break - I’m tryin’ to be a well-behaved boy here!” You snuggled into his chest a bit, “Okay, but remember - no wandering hands!” He held up both hands, “Not wandering - look!” before placing them chastely on your arm and shoulder.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes opened, and you groggily looked around you, disorientated. Hearing soft little snores from beneath you, you raised your head to look at Billy’s sleeping face. Oh. You’d both obviously dozed off in front of the TV, the Netflix menu now on the screen. Moving slowly, you started to try and stand up but two hands went round your arms in a vice-like grip. “Where you off to?” said Billy’s deep voice. “Just...ummm... just...” you stuttered, but suddenly you were underneath him, his weight pressing you down as his mouth found yours in a hungry kiss. You knew you should resist but damn, he was a good kisser! Feeling yourself dissolve into the kiss, one of your hands moved up to his bristly jawline.

His kisses became more passionate and he pushed himself against you even more, his arousal very evident. You tried to ignore them but your feelings of desire for him were becoming overwhelming, and your arms went round his neck almost unbidden. He was smiling against your lips, and you heard, “Wanna sleep with me? D’you wanna?” Your treacherous mouth said “Yes!” in a breathy whisper, and that was all Billy needed to hear.

He picked you up in his arms, whispering “Where’s your bedroom?” You nodded towards its general direction and he carried you across the apartment and into your room. Setting you down, his fingers were immediately at the zip of your dress, pulling it down, pushing the fabric down then further down until your dress was round your ankles, before whipping it fully off and dropping it onto the floor. You watched him as his eyes roamed all over your body, taking in your lacy lingerie and moving the straps of your bra off your shoulders. “Mmmmm, sweetheart - wow - even better than I imagined,” he said hoarsely, his hands going round your back and unclipping your bra. He stripped it off you and dropped it, both hands immediately cupping your breasts and massaging firmly, thumbs running over your nipples as they peaked. Moving you backwards until your head hit the pillows, you felt his fingers pulling the fabric of your panties aside and suddenly the head of his cock was at your core and pushing inside you. “No time for foreplay, sorry,” you heard and you gave a deep groan when he kept going, feeling his balls brushing your pussy as he fully sheathed himself. His head went back and he gasped, “Fuck!” before he began to thrust. He lifted your legs and draped them over his hips, encouraging you to cross your ankles on his back to pull him even closer.

His mouth was everywhere on you, kissing you deeply one minute before his mouth went to one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue while his thumb and fingers toyed with the other, then his mouth and teeth were on your neck and shoulders while he set a ferocious pace. A constant stream of low groans were leaving your lips as he moved on you, and you could hear him gasping and muttering words above you, not all of which you could catch, but you did hear “Uhhh, been wantin’ to do this to ya since the minute we met” between thrusts. You ran your hands over his chest and up around his neck, threading your fingers through his lush hair, and you felt him shiver as you pulled on it gently. His thumb was on your clit now, rubbing at you relentlessly and your orgasm washed over you like a wave. His teeth were fastened onto your shoulder and he bit down as you felt his body tense as he came. He lowered himself gently onto you before rolling off, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling as he got his breath back. “Wow,” he said quietly, before moving onto his side and gazing at you, running a finger gently along your jaw. “Yes, wow,” you replied, putting your hand on his bristly cheek.

“Well, if Caroline does ask if we’ve slept together, now we don’t have to lie,” smirked Billy. This instantly ruined the mood and you sat up, prior to wrapping one of the covers round you and getting out of bed. He looked a bit surprised, but you began moving away from the bed towards the bathroom. Returning a few moments later, you hesitated for a moment before climbing back into bed beside Billy, who was still lying there in all his naked glory. He immediately moved next you, his hands on your arm, “Did I say something wrong earlier? You were up and off like a ballistic missile.” You looked over at him, “A girl doesn’t exactly like to hear another one’s name getting mentioned just seconds after lovemaking.” A guilty look passed over his face, “Awww, shit!... I didn’t think, I’m really sorry... I was just so happy you slept with me, sweetheart.” He stroked your hair away from your face, “Forgive me? And my big clumsy mouth?” You huffed a bit but eventually nodded, not least due to the soft kisses he was peppering over your face and neck.

He breathed a sigh of relief, “I seem to spend all my time apologising to you,” he chuckled, “I’m really making a mess of this fake dating.” “Can’t argue with you there, Billy,” you agreed. “Look, I’m gonna try a lot harder, okay?” he said, running a finger along your arm. You sighed, “Okay... well here’s hoping it’ll be alright on the night.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The rest of the week, you and Billy had traded phone calls and text messages but (to your secret disappointment) the two of you didn’t meet up. To your mind that could only mean that Billy, who’d admitted to you that he liked the thrill of the chase, had now already caught you so that was it as far as he was concerned. He’d said that his work had been crazy busy but you didn’t feel at all convinced by that.

Friday eventually rolled around, and you were glad you’d decided to take a half day off work to get ready. Karen had strolled up to your desk as you were packing up your stuff before leaving, and you recognised her ‘Serious Talk’ look on her face. She walked along to the elevator with you and followed you inside. “Y’know I hope you really enjoy your evening with Billy tonight, but....” she bit her lip before continuing, “...you know he’s a player, right?” She quickly put her hand on your arm as the elevator reached the ground floor, “I’m not trying to spoil your fun, honestly I’m not, but some of the things Frank’s let slip recently would make your toes curl. Billy’s totally ruthless when it comes to cutting women loose.” The elevator doors opened and you both walked out, with you saying, “Don’t worry Karen, I sussed that out the minute I saw him,” over your shoulder as you continued out into the main lobby. You stopped and turned to her, lowering your voice and continuing, “But I slept with him last weekend and just as expected, he’s avoided meeting up with me all during this week.” Her mouth tightened, and you knew you were in for a Page Lecture. “Gahhh! What were you thinking?! You’ve just reinforced his impression that he can pull any woman he wants and then disappear on her! I can’t believe you didn’t even wait for this gala thing tonight! You could at least have held off till then.”

“Yes, mom,” you sighed, then smiled at her. “But you know what Karen, he’s so hot I just couldn’t resist! And I knew exactly what his reaction would be, and he hasn’t disappointed. He’s been in touch obviously because we’ve got this thing tonight, but he’s been ‘too busy at work’ to meet up. I’m sure that in Russo-speak, that really means ‘too busy chasing tail’ but I’m cool with that. Like I said, it’s what I expected,” shrugging as you said this. “Hmmmm,” replied Karen, staring at you intensely as if trying to read your mind, “...well as long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.” “I do,” you reassured her, hugging her before walking away with a nonchalant wave.

Out on the street you exhaled a big breath. If only you truly believed that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy pulled up outside her apartment block and, as before, texted her to say he was there.

He was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to meet up with her during the week, and was also aware she probably thought he was avoiding her now they’d slept together. But he’d truly been up to his ears in it at work, and he wasn’t yet established enough in the security market to turn down job offers. So he’d taken on probably a few more than he should have done, and both he and Frank had had to weigh in on a couple of them to make sure they were handled correctly.

So apart from calls and texts, he’d had to miss out on seeing her. In fact, all he’d been thinking of the entire week was the prolonged session they’d indulged in last weekend. Once he’d apologised for mentioning Caroline’s name after they’d first made love, (really smart move Russo, he thought to himself) there had been a whole night of energetic and very enjoyable sex. Then a shared shower late the next morning after she’d woken him up with a surprise and very welcome blow job. God, the things she could do with her mouth! He squirmed in his seat, starting to get hard just thinking about it. He couldn’t wait for another one of those, that was for sure. Tonight after the gala if he was lucky!

He saw the main door to her apartment block open and she started walking towards the car. Wish I could get a better idea of how she looked in her dress, he thought. Oh well, I’ll just need to wait till we actually get to the place.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You slid into Billy’s flashy car, tucking your feet in last in an effort to be elegant. He leaned over, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you long and hard. You eventually shoved him away, exclaiming “Billy! My lipstick!” You peered at his face, “And you’re covered in it!”

He burst out laughing, “Well, hello sweetheart!”

You handed him a tissue whilst you began trying to repair the smudges around your lips. He dampened it on his tongue and then quickly rubbed the burgundy colour off his mouth. Once you’d fixed your face, you leant over towards him and his mouth headed to yours again but you pulled back. “I’m checking your shirt collar to make sure there’s none on there!” Chuckling, he started up the car, “I did wonder why you waited till you’d put your lipstick back on before kissin’ me again.” “You kissed me!” you protested. He just laughed and manoeuvred the car into the traffic stream.

His head then swung towards you, “If you say so, sweetheart! Hey, I’d say you look beautiful but I can’t get a proper look at you in the car. So wait a little while till we get there and then I can compliment you properly, okay?” You nodded, “Yeah, same. I can’t get a look at you either.” Another chuckle, “You can see as much of me as you want later tonight, sweetheart.” “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?!” Billy’s hand stole onto your thigh and travelled higher. “Wearin’ panties?” You tolerated his wandering fingers, “Yes I am, Marine. Sorry to disappoint.” He shrugged, smirk firmly in place, “Fine by me. They’re not gonna stop me gettin’ to where I wanna be anyhow.” Somewhat surprisingly to you, his hand went back onto the steering wheel. “But I’m gonna wait till we’re alone later. See, sweetheart - I’ve learned my lesson!” “Glad to hear it!” you shot back at him, before looking out of the window at the passing streets.

After arriving and parking at the venue, one of the big downtown hotels, you and Billy made your way upstairs to the function room. Leaving your coats at the cloakroom, Billy twirled you round in front of him, looking you over slowly from top to toe. “You look gorgeous,” he said admiringly, “really beautiful.” “Thank you. Not so bad yourself, Russo.” He was in one of his bespoke suits and was looking edible. He mock-bowed then leant down and kissed you on the lips, and you reminded yourself to act naturally when he did that. You both began walking towards the sound of music and chatter, his hand straying down onto the top of your ass as you went. Karen’s voice rang in your ears about how much of a player he was, and once again you fought the instinct to swat his hand away. If you could just do your duty and get through tonight, then you could put yourself deep into protective mode over this handsome devil.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Several gin & tonics later, you were returning from the ladies’ room and heading back to where you’d left your ‘boyfriend’ at the bar, wondering how much more of this tedious event you could stand, when you heard a high-pitched voice trilling, “Oh Billy! There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Hahah! you thought, this must be the infamous Caroline! Well, at least this next part is going to inject some much-needed fun into the evening.

You could see a small brunette standing in front of Billy with her hands grasping his biceps and beginning to pull him towards her. He spotted you approaching over her shoulder and extricated himself from her clutches saying, “Caroline.... how nice to see you! Just in time for me to introduce you to my girlfriend...” “Girlfriend?!” She whirled round and met your eyes, her own narrowing as she looked you up and down in a flash. You continued walking towards the two of them, noting that she was pretty but was heavily made up; she really didn’t need to plaster it on like she had but - whatever, you thought. Billy moved past her to swiftly put his arm around your waist and draw you to him, introducing you at the same time. She nodded her head briefly at you, “Hi, I’m Caroline. A friend of Billy’s.” She emphasised the word ‘friend’. You beamed back a big smile at her, “Lovely to meet another of his friends,” you said, also emphasising the word. You felt Billy tense up a bit, but you thought that playing the jealous girlfriend might be a good way to go, especially when you noticed the little smirk on her face. You tugged on his arm, “C’mon Billy, you promised me a dance,” you said in a ‘little girl’ voice, which nearly made you heave quite frankly but you felt struck the right note.

Billy raised a hand vaguely towards Caroline as he said to you, “Yes I did, sweetheart. Let’s go. Bye, Caroline - good to see you,” and then gave you a long kiss as the two of you headed to the dance floor. Once Billy had you in his arms, you felt his lips next to your ear and he whispered, “So.... jealous girlfriend, huh?” You nodded, smiling up at him, “She’ll like the fact that I think she’s a threat. But as long as you keep up the PDA’s, I think she’ll buy it.” He immediately kissed you, the hand which had been on your waist surreptitiously sliding downwards at the same time. As you broke apart from the kiss, you caught sight of Caroline glaring at the two of you from a table near the edge of the dance floor. You ran your hand up onto Billy’s jaw before continuing to the back of his neck. You’d discovered during your night together that this was one of Billy’s weak spots, so you trailed your fingers over his skin and had him wrapped round your finger within seconds, just as had happened that other night. He pressed his body close against you, ensuring you felt how aroused he was. “When can we skip out of here?” he breathed to you, making you laugh. “I don’t know! It’s your event - when do you want to stay until?”

Before he could reply, you were aware of a figure next to you and a hand went onto Billy’s arm. “Mind if I cut in?” asked Caroline, giving you a nasty smirk. However it dropped off her face when Billy said hurriedly, “Sorry, Caroline - we’re just leaving,” and began leading you off the dance floor. “Oh, that’s such a shame,” you heard, and realised she was trailing after you and Billy as you left the dance floor. “I was so looking forward to hearing all about how you & Billy met.” You stole a quick glance at Billy before saying over your shoulder, “Through mutual friends.” Still following you both as you headed over to pick up your coats, she rattled out, “it’s just that I’m a bit surprised - it seems quite strange that Billy never mentioned a girlfriend before tonight.” Billy looked irritated but his face became blank as he turned slightly back towards her and replied, “Uh, I am right here y’know!.... well Caroline, we never spoke about our personal lives so it’s not that strange at all to be honest.” You’d reached the small counter by now and had handed over the tickets to the attendant, and while you’d hoped that Billy’s answer would have silenced her, Caroline continued, “So how long have you been dating?” You turned and stared at her, and found her already staring back at you, “Mmm, it’s about two months now, isn’t it Billy?” and moved your eyes to his. He glanced quickly behind him at her, “ Yes, sweetheart - a little over two months actually,” he turned back to you, smiling fondly, “and I gotta say, they’ve been two of the sweetest months of my life.” He leant down and kissed you full on the lips.

Caroline’s lip curled up at this and was still curling as you met her annoyed gaze once Billy’s lips left yours. “Well,” she began, but was then interrupted by a tall older man who came up to the three of you and placed a hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “Hello, Russo,” he said, shaking hands with Billy who greeted him with a “Hi, Mike,” as the older guy’s eyes wandered quizzically over to you. “And who’s this lovely young lady, then?” he asked but before either you or Billy could say anything, Caroline spat out, “His girlfriend, Daddy - imagine that!” However her father merely gave you a friendly grin while Billy introduced you. After a quick handshake, he commented that it was a real shame that you were both leaving before he could buy you a drink. But Billy said firmly, with a mischievous look at you, “Sorry, Mike.... we’re... uhhh... quite anxious to get home.” Mike laughed knowingly while you heard a loud ‘tut’ from his daughter. You smiled brightly at both of them, “Well.... lovely to meet you and hope you enjoy the rest of the evening. Bye!” Taking your coat from the attendant, Billy helped you into it before putting on his own and the two of you said final goodbyes to Mike and Caroline before making your escape.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Thank god that’s over!” you breathed out a sigh of relief as you settled back into your seat, while Billy switched on the car’s powerful engine and it purred into life. “You didn’t enjoy it?” he grinned, “...even with such a charming boyfriend attending to your every need all evening?!” You laughed, “Sorry Billy, no I didn’t. I hated every second of it! But I think we accomplished the mission, don’t you?” Turning your head and watching his profile as he reversed the car out of the parking space, you asked, “D’you want me to get the dress dry-cleaned and you can take it back to the store? I mean I’ve only had it on for a few hours and I managed not to spill anything down it.” He glanced over at you, a strange look in his eyes. “No, I don’t want you to clean it and return it. It’s yours to keep. And yes, we did achieve our goal.” He started driving away from the hotel, and you realised it was the wrong direction for your place. You’d never been to his apartment but had a feeling that’s where you were heading.

“Where are you going, Billy? I just want dropped off at home so I can get out of all of this and relax.” He laughed, and for some reason you thought he sounded a bit pissed off. “Ahh no, that’s not happenin’, sweetheart,” he said, looking across at you, eyes gleaming with something but you weren’t sure exactly what. Determination? Desire? “We’re headin’ to mine. And yeah, you’re gonna be gettin’ out of those clothes, don’t worry.” “Look, Billy,” you said, feeling a bit uneasy for some reason, “...we’re done here, okay? We’ve already slept together, you got what you wanted so now you move on, correct? That’s your usual M.O. isn’t it? You made that obvious this week. Don’t worry, I got the message loud and clear. I’m not some clingy desperate woman that’s gonna keep chasing after you. I knew what the deal was with you the minute I set eyes on you. So.... just turn around and take me home.” You’d been staring at the road ahead but were aware of him shaking his head, “No.” You looked across at him, “No? What, you’re kidnapping me now?” “You can think of it that way if you like, sweetheart. I knew you’d think I was avoidin’ you this week, but I wasn’t. I’m not ready to let you get away just yet. We’re gonna go to mine, and you’re gonna spend the night on your back - and in various other positions - cos I need another night of sex with you.”

“And what if that’s not what I want? What if I don’t want to be used like a fuck toy before you disappear over the horizon? Doesn’t it matter to you what I want?” He chuckled, and you felt a little shiver of fear run through you, “Not right now, no. Because this is all I’ve been thinkin’ about the whole week. And because you’re sayin’ one thing, but you mean another.” “Really?! That’s what you think?” you scoffed, shaking your head, “You’re unbelievable, you know that? The level of arrogance....!” He pulled the car over into the inside lane and then turned into an underground car park. He killed the engine, and in the sudden silence you heard him say in a low voice, “Call it arrogance if you like. I call it knowing what I want and makin’ sure I get it.” He released his seat belt and got out of the car, coming round and opening your door before taking hold of your arm and pulling you out of it. He locked the car with a bleep of the remote on his keychain, then dragged you - firmly but not roughly - over to an elevator which he unlocked with a key before calling it down. Once it arrived, he hustled you inside and once the doors closed, his mouth was instantly on yours. He kissed you roughly, open-mouthed with teeth and lips and tongue all involved. His hands were undoing the buttons on your coat and then were inside it, immediately going to your breasts.

You struggled with him, trying to push him off but he continued kissing you, and you heard his voice telling you to just admit you wanted it. The awful thing was, you did want him and it annoyed the hell out of you. However his current attitude was also annoying the hell out of you so you continued to push at his muscled, toned body to get him off you. But you were no match for the ex-Marine and you heard a ‘ting’ and the elevator doors opening as Billy continued to kiss and grope you. He pushed you firmly out of the lift, keeping hold of your arm and propelling you towards a door - the only door, you noticed - and then into the apartment after he unlocked the door. He slammed it behind him then was on you in a flash, grabbing your bag and throwing it onto the sofa before stripping off your coat and dropping it on the floor. You were aware of being in a large open-plan space with floor-to-ceiling windows and trendy furniture, before you were scooped up as easily as if you were a throw cushion and carried into an equally large bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him and dumped you rather unceremoniously on the bed, stripping his clothes off in a matter of seconds and letting them fall where they may. Then he was back on you, flipping you over and unzipping your dress in one quick motion. He stripped it down off your shoulders, turned you back over and pulled it off you. You looked up at him, finally finding your voice, “Billy! Stop it.” He shook his head, “Nah, not happenin’ sweetheart. We’re gonna have sex now.” You opened your mouth but nothing would come out. Why couldn’t you say anything else?

Because you do want it, said a sly voice in your head. And whilst the caveman routine might not be the most appealing of Billy’s wooing techniques, he’d excited you beyond belief and you could feel how damp your panties were. You’d told yourself before the evening started that you weren’t going to have sex with him that night, but at the same time had perversely hoped that it would in fact happen. You were absolutely furious with yourself but at the same time, totally conflicted and unable to ignore the desire you felt for him.

You felt his fingers fumbling a bit at your back and then your bra was dramatically whipped off and thrown across the room. His mouth and hands were immediately on your breasts, fingers massaging and toying with one nipple while he licked the other, his tongue roughly raking over its peak and surrounding skin before he started to suck and bite at it, enough to make you squeal but not hard enough to cause you real pain. Then he swapped and your other breast came in for the same treatment. You felt his fingers sliding down your body and pulling at your panties, after a few seconds he then sat up and stripped them off you. They also joined your bra across the other side of the room. He lowered himself onto you, hands parting your legs and you knew he was guiding himself inside you. His hard length pushed into you and you felt the stretch much more than you had the first time you’d had sex with him. Of course he was in a more of a rush this time, seemingly desperate to have sex with you, judging by the way he’d thrown you down, ripped your clothes off and immediately got between your legs.

He slid his hands under your knees and lifted your legs up until your ankles were on his shoulders, deeply thrusting into you as he did so, and you heard yourself give a loud groan. He gave a long, low groan himself as he picked up his pace, and you heard his whispered words next to your ear, “You like that, sweetheart? Feel good?” “Yes!!!!!” you gasped, hating yourself for admitting it but it was the absolute truth. He kissed you passionately, hands running up and down your legs and onto your body as he thrust hard into you, mouth moving to your neck and collarbone, nipping at your skin then licking where he’d lightly bitten you. You climaxed first, Billy’s thumb having found its favourite place on your clit, and you’d dug your nails into his shoulders before running your hands up into his hair and pulling it. Hearing his answering chuckle, his hips cannoned into yours a final few times before you felt him release into you, and he sank down heavily on top of you, panting and trying to get his breath back. He moved off you and laid on his back, seemingly exhausted by his over-eager exertions. His head tilted towards you, “I’m not finished with you yet, sweetheart. Need more.”

You propped yourself up on an elbow, “Just what the fuck is all this neanderthal stuff about, Billy?” He sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. “Remember you said I wouldn’t know what a relationship was if it bit me on the ass?” “Yeah?” “You’re right. I’ve never experienced a loving relationship in my life. I dunno what love is, really.” Then out it all spilled.... his abandonment as a very young kid, the group homes, the abuse, the stigma. How he’d signed up for the Marines as soon as he was old enough, got a business degree before shipping out, how Frank had his back almost from day one. The dark eyes eventually looked into yours, “So just confirmin’ - I’m officially shit at relationships.” You nodded thoughtfully, “Well... now I understand things a little bit better, Billy. You discard women after a very short time as a self-defence measure, because you have a fear of being abandoned again. Ditch them before they can ditch you, right? Because you still have self-esteem issues, deep down underneath that confident exterior. It’s hard to overcome years of being looked down upon and sidelined.” You reached out and ran your fingers through his small patch of chest hair. He flinched slightly so you withdrew your hand, but his own hand went out and he laid it on top of yours for a brief moment.

Then he sat up a bit and stretched, laughing as he did so, “Told you, you’re in the wrong job, sweetheart.” He leaned back onto the pillows, carefully looking away from you, “Guess I didn’t do a very good job of lettin’ you know I want you to stay around and be with me?” You sat up, pulling one of the sheets over you, “What?” you asked. He looked over at you again, “All of this,” his hand waved vaguely between you and him, “This is me tryna let you know I really like you. I honestly missed bein’ with you during the week. An’ I was really busy, me and Frank, all week - I wasn’t tryna avoid you, okay? All I could think about was the night we spent together, how I want that to be a regular thing. Spend time with you.”

You started chuckling to yourself before it bubbled up into real laughter. He’d been looking down and fidgeting with the covers but now his head swung up and his eyebrows pulled into a frown. You calmed down a little and reached out to him, softly stroking his shoulder, “Billy... I’m not really laughing at you. Well, I suppose I am but only because I’m really surprised. That’s not how guys usually let girls know they’re interested! - kidnapping them and telling them that they will have sex with them.” Billy grunted, “Yeah, I realise that. It’s what I’m tryna tell you, sweetheart. I’m shit at this kinda stuff.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Sunday lunchtime, you met up with Karen who was gagging to know what had happened on Friday night. You dutifully recounted everything, even Billy’s metamorphosis into caveman as you left the hotel. Karen’s expression got more and more incredulous and as you drew to a close with his admission of being completely crap at all things relationship-related, she finally said, “Fuck! That’s unbelievable. So how did you leave things? You kick him to the curb?”

You took a sip of your G&T, and smiled back at her, “He wants me to teach him what a real relationship is all about.”

“And you’re prepared to take a chance on him and show him, are you?” You nodded, “Yeah I guess I am, Karen. I know it sounds crazy, but he wants to try. And I’d like to try. So we went from fake to genuine as of Friday night.”

She chuckled, shaking her head and sipping her drink before saying, “Well, you’re a glutton for punishment, I’ll say that for you. And I wish you the best of luck trying to tame that bad boy.” She lifted her glass and you clinked yours against hers, “Thanks, Karen. I’m just gonna take it one day at a time. If it doesn’t work out...” you shrugged, “...at least I gave it a shot.” She put her hand over yours, “Do you think he’ll keep it in his pants? He’s used to putting it about all over town,” squeezing your hand, “...sorry to have to say that honey, but it’s true.” You nodded, “Yeah I know, and all I can say is he’s promised he won’t be doing that from now on. But if I get even a whiff of another woman’s perfume off him, I will be kicking him to the curb faster than he can say ‘it’s not what you think, sweetheart’, believe me! And I’ve told him that too, in no uncertain terms.” She nodded, “Well, you’ve given him fair warning so if he fucks up, that’s definitely on him.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frank threw his head back, giving a great belly laugh which went on for a lot longer than Billy Russo thought it should do. After a few moments, Frank’s face had gone beet red and tears were squeezing out of the corners of his eyes. Billy folded his arms across his chest, sitting back in the diner booth and scowling at Frank, “Okay, okay, Frankie - enough already,” he grumbled as Frank continued to laugh. Eventually Frank calmed down enough to speak, “Russo! I don’t believe it, I really don’t. Does that girl know what she’s letting herself in for?! She must be missing a few rounds out of her ammo clip.” Billy pulled a face, “Look... I like her, okay? She’s gonna teach me what a proper relationship’s like. She’s willin’ to give me a chance, so cut me some slack over here, will ya?” Frank took a big pull at his beer, “Oh Russo, how the fuck ya gonna keep it in your pants?” (unknowingly parroting Karen’s very same comment to her friend). Billy shrugged, “Look...I will, I tell ya. I mean it, I only want her. The sex is....” he made a chef’s kiss hand gesture, “....and she doesn’t take any of my shit, either. I really like her, Frankie. I think I’m ready to...” “Settle down? Really, Bill - are you? Cos if you fuck this up, you’ve got Karen to deal with as well as your girl.”

Billy took a hit of his beer, “You think I don’t know that? And I’d get a ton of crap from you too, cos Karen’d be upset. You like her, dontcha?” Frank’s cheeks went a slight shade of pink, “Well, yeah. I guess I do.” Now it was Billy’s turn to laugh, “You guess you do? Frankie, you’re like a teenager with a major crush every time your phone rings! ‘Ooh, it’s Karen!’” he said, the last bit in a high-pitched voice. “I do not talk like that!” Frank growled at him, “And you better spend your energy learning how to treat a woman properly, rather than ripping the shit outta me, Russo!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your phone dinged and you picked it up, seeing a text notification from Billy on the screen. Turning your phone briefly towards Karen to show her this, you clicked on it and then smiled as you read it. Showing the message to her, she also smiled, “Wow, seems like he’s definitely trying!” You agreed, “I do believe he is!” Maybe this crazy relationship thing you and Billy had agreed to embark on did have a chance of working out after all. You definitely still had your misgivings - does a leopard (or panther) really change its spots? - but you were willing to give it a try as long as Billy stuck to his end of the bargain. No other women, no lying, spending a lot of quality time together... let’s just see how all that goes, you thought. Re-reading the text, it made you smile once more.

Billy’s text said simply, “I’m missing you, sweetheart. Come over to mine, I’ll cook you dinner.”

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(My photo edit)

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Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry

(Using D&D’s taglist, if you’d prefer to be removed, just let me know!)

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#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

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an-xmen-side-blog · 3 years

Text

Way of X #1 review

Spoilers

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

The issue mostly involves Kurt going about business on Krakoa and pondering things. Things like death, resurrection and crucible. There's a focus on how while Resurrection and Crucible make sense logically, there's still some creepy vibes, it feels a little bit wrong. Kurt can't justify why it's wrong for Pixie to throw her life away so casually, but he feels it is wrong. And he's unsure if he's the problem or if he's the only one noticing them. There's no objective standpoint here either, the reader feels just as uncomfortable as Kurt during the crucible scene, which is far more brutal than the ones we've seen sofar. But the results speak for themselves, Magneto puts it well when he says 'nothing hurts more than a life of submission'. That's an underlying message I know lots of people resonated with during X-men #7 and it's cool to see it printed here. And the mutant is in one way better off having gone through crucible, she is no longer in chronic pain and she can use her mutant gift. But everybody around her vomits now, so I can imagine we may see her again down the line to see if she really does feel better now, or is the pain just emotional rather than physical now?

Nemesis has a great voice in the issue, as he did as a side character in Spurrier's X-Force run. We find out he was behind developing the krakoan medicines and flowers we've been seeing throughout this whole era, and he has founded a science corps where he's in charge of everything except the law/ethics laboratory (which is vacant without him to run it). Even in his data page about crucible and resurrection leading to a new evolutionary mechanism he says things that are a little red-flag-y with such a casual demeanour. Nemesis is a very callous, arrogant and apathetic person who despite those traits most often ends up on the good guys side. He's also sporting a new look, ditching the mask and hat for a beard and psychadelic mushrooms.

All throughout the issue the patchwork man's presence is felt, the children of krakoa tell stories about him and he's seen in the shadows and its unclear what's folklore and what's real. What is certain is he is present and he is up to something. While his true identity was predictable, it certainly wasn't disappointing. I absolutely love when seeing a twist coming doesn't lessen its impact and Spurrier does that so well. I was expecting Legion to be used as he normally is, as more of a plot device than a character. That the patchwork man would turn out to be David out of his mind and as much in need of help as the people he's hurting. I'm very surprised to see David seems to be in control, and doing whatever he's doing of his own free will. Spurrier is one of the few writers to really dig into David's personality and motivation and use him beyond just being a problem for the main characters to solve, so I'm excited to read about what David is actually up to and why in future issues.

Additional notes

-It's interesting to see the orchis data page from S.W.O.R.D #3 come back and permeate multiple books, this makes me more interested in watching it become unredacted

-Doctor Nemesis' Science Corp data page is hilarious. I hope it's going to come back and be linked to stuff we see in the story and it's not just a one off joke

-a lot of the data pages are excerpts from 'the book of [REDACTED]' that tell the story from nightcrawlers pov parallel to what we see on the page. They act as sort of a future narrator and are presumably from some sort of mutant holy text nightcrawler has yet to write.

Overall: 5 star issue. An amazing start to a series with some pleasant art that starts to discuss questions we've all been thinking about throughout this era. It has a good grasp of its characters and a good range of emotionl moments varying from shocking to humorous.

#Way of x #Nightcrawler #Doctor nemesis #Simon spurrier #Si spurrier #Kurt wagner #James Bradley #Legion #David Haller #Nat's review tag

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felassan · 4 years

Text

Dragon Age development insights from David Gaider - PART 4

This information came from DG on a recent SummerfallStudios Twitch stream where he gave developer commentary while Liam Esler continued playing DAO from where they had left off in Part 1, 2 and 3. I transcribed it in case there’s anyone who can’t watch the stream (for example due to connection/tech limitations, data, time constraints, personal accessibility reasons, etc). A lot of it is centered on DAO, but there’s also insights into other parts of the franchise. Some of it is info which is known having been put out there in the past, and some of it is new. There’s a bit of overlap or repetition with topics covered in Parts 1-3. This post leaps from topic to topic as it’s a transcript of a conversational format. It’s under a cut due to length.

The stream can currently be watched back here. Next week LE will be streaming a different DAO playthrough with commentary from another guest. Two weeks from now LE and DG will return to continue this playthrough for another stream session like this one.

(Part 5, Part 6)

[wording and opinions DG’s, occasionally LE’s; paraphrased]

The Loghain sequences, where it jumps out of the HoF’s point of view to let the player see what Loghain is up to, were added quite late on in development. Some of the dream sequences (like the HoF’s dream of the Archdemon) were also probably added quite late. Those sequences were added as they felt that they needed to have more indication of the larger goings-on in terms of what Loghain was up to, since they had cut some stuff that was meant to have shown this. Cutting things can be funny like that as you’re then left trying to explain the holes.

An original Archdemon concept drawing had them as a lot more demonic as opposed to draconic, with blank all-black faces, a giant ornate crown, smoke, tentacles and a Cthulhu-esque feel. Things change a lot during the concept phase however. At the time, DG wasn’t sure if he liked the changing of the ‘demon’ into a ‘dragon’, but over time he digs it - it sorta implies some things about the nature of dragons in the world that they later decided “yes, that is probably the case”. They then worked that more into the lore so that dragons weren’t just there to be huge lizards. Given the difficulty the team had modelling things like tentacles and snakes, the original Archdemon concept would probably have been iterated on and would’ve had to become something else eventually anyway.

Having the party camp was probably always part of James Ohlen’s plan. Originally, there was going to be different camps in specific places around the map. They then made it a sort of ‘pocket area’ that the player always ‘took with them’, but here they had problems figuring out things like what would happen if the player rested while in an interior location as opposed to somewhere out in the wilderness, “like, does that change it?” For a while there was a complicated system where the party members would do things in camp that would give the player items and help out in such ways - like a party member who made potions, ones that could be interacted with and asked to craft, a whole crafting system relating to that, etc (this all got cut). This was supposed to act as a reason for the player to return to camp and have more interactions at camp; they didn’t want the camp just to be ‘the place you go just to talk to followers’. A good portion of the team considered dialogue to be boring and not an activity that was engaged in.

As soon as hair/beard hair came past the ‘clipping plane’ of the neck, they had real trouble getting it to move due to lack of proper cloth physics and the troubles they had with hair. Beards were rectangular strips that dangled from the chin with the beard texture attached to it. Sometimes certain points were connected to the chest which is why there’s the weird stretching if models move in certain ways. This happens with robes as well. The reason they did this is so that there’s no clipping. For some reason the BW animation team was so averse to clipping compared to other games from elsewhere which sometimes have a bit of clipping that they’re actually not fussed about. At one point they had a big fight on the DA team because the art team said “We need to make every entrance and doorway [including tents] about twice the size that it is, about Shale-size specifically, because of Shale” because they were worried that there would be scenes where Shale would clip through the wall, and about how this would look to players. Others responded that it’d be rare where Shale would be seen going through a door and also that nobody really cares (as in it’s not a big deal). DG half-seriously suggested that instead of making every door bigger, have it so that after entering the door’s texture at the sides and above it would look cracked and have an outline of Shale’s arms and head as if she’d just barreled her way through the stonework. In the end Shale’s size was reduced as a solution to this (so Shale was originally intended to be a lot larger). This is an example of a place where different parts of the team had different priorities in development. It was pointed out that in the end having giant doors may not have made much difference, as every interior in DA is massive in terms of floor and ceiling-space, as well as items (huge jugs of ale etc) anyway.

Weapons and staves hover on characters’ backs due to the team’s aforementioned aversion to clipping. Originally there were plans for scabbards and straps, but they didn’t have the resources for these and they were also concerned about staves clipping through straps, especially when being ‘drawn’ for combat, even though that would just be a second or so. So this is why we instead have floating magnetically-attached-looking weapons.

DG wrote Nature of the Beast including all of the Brecilian Forest, it’s possibly his favorite plot/questline out of the ones he wrote for DAO. It’s one of the plots that survived best from first inception to final result. One of the prominent cultural features of Ferelden is the werewolves, and so DG had to make ‘the werewolf plot’. All the initial plots were split up like that (the werewolf plot, the dwarf plot, etc). Originally there was a separate ‘elf plot’ but it got joined together with the werewolf one. DG had an idea for a being that was like male and female, terrible and kind, beautiful and horrible and so forth - both at once, like the way nature is. This was the vague initial idea from which this plot grew. The nature spirit encountered is the flipside of the being. The spirit of the forest is both male and female, or something akin to being bigender (both rather than neither). There’s not much difference between the Lady and Witherfang. DG finds it so weird hearing the DAO Dalish elves’ American accents (since their accents were changed for the next game). The American Dalish elf accents bugged DG enough that when they got to DA2, he said to Caroline Livingstone “can we just retcon this” and she was like “yeah”. “I think we underestimated how weird prevalent American accents in the game alongside the British ones would be”. Zathrian is voiced by Tim Russ (Tuvok from Star Trek).

The Cammen-Gheyna plot is a fairly ‘nothing-y’ sidequest relatively speaking, but is so complex in terms of how many options and paths through it that it has that DG got a big of a finger-wagging for it and some people were not happy. LE commented that this quest is “an extremely Gaider plot”, as the player can ruin everyone’s lives in it. Gheyna’s pronunciation of Andaran atish'an is incorrect. This phrase is one of the ones that got mixed up in the pronunciation guide and one of the ones that when they got to DA2, DG was like “ignore what we did before, here’s the new pronunciation files”. One of the first ‘images’ the team had of the Dalish was that they had reindeer-like creatures that pulled the aravels. In DAO aravels look more like standard wagons than the ones in the ‘images’, and they weren’t shown properly. Aravels are wagons but they’re supposed to have big sails (not naval-style sails on top) all over the place to catch the wind, so that they look like a bunch of ships being drawn across a field. They got closer to how they’re supposed to be in DAI. At one point the artists sat DG down and asked him what should set the Dalish apart visually. “Funny you should ask, I have some very specific ideas about what the Dalish should look like that have just never been done”. [I think here he meant hadn’t yet been implemented in the franchise] “Oh, we just thought they were ‘people with wagons’.” “Nobody reads documentation...”

The lamps in the Brecilian Forest are a bit random. They put light sources everywhere and it seems like the Brecilian lamp thing was art-asset use that boiled down to “guess it’s an elven forest?”. The Deep Roads were supposed to be properly dark. The team had a lot of conversations over how dark they could or should make the Deep Roads. They constantly had beams of light coming from above and it was like “this is supposed to be like a mile underground, why are there sunbeams coming through cracks in the ceiling” - the answer is it looks good and they didn’t want to do proper darkness. By DAI, they got closer to the ‘look’ the Deep Roads are supposed to have. This is a recurring theme in the DA franchise lol. “This was a weakness in our team and processes, that it took two titles before we got on board with each other and with the vision.” But they had plenty of good strengths too! DG wishes they had iterated a bit more on the werewolves’ look.

“Evil options” was always one of the big conversations that they had. DG wasn’t a fan of the evil options because they mostly boiled down to being a big jerk. The reason for this is a lengthy design discussion that relies on interface - proper, smart evil usually implies some kind of deception, and how do you indicate to the player that the option they’re about to take has a more cleverly-sinister aspect to it (as opposed to simple Intimidate options)? They didn’t really enjoy just letting the player run around being an asshole to people, “do we have to service this hyuk-hyuk-hyuk, particular type of enjoyment?” DG wishes they had figured out how to do the evil stuff a little better (feeling that in a game, doing good has less merit unless there’s temptation to do evil, and that evil paths should be more materially rewarding).

DG wrote The Dawn Will Come with some help from PW and Karin Weekes. It was the first song he wrote. Trevor Morris sent him the tune and he listened to it many times and wrote out the lyrics. PW and KW helped him make it “less awkward and cringey”. “They’re very good at that”. PW is good at poetry, KW is more musical and knows more about music. “If you get something which is as ridiculous as it is memorable, it’s probably Sheryl. If you get something that’s beautiful prose, it’s probably Mary. Something in-between is probably PW.” The DAI bardsongs were written by an external party brought in specially to do so. This required a fair bit of review and revision to make sure they followed DA lore. “It’s a problem we’ve always had trying to work with third parties, they tend to think that anything that falls under the umbrella of ‘medieval fantasy’ would fit in DA”. (Here DG groaned a bit thinking about Orson Scott Card.)

On the Grand Oak and co: “After I finished writing this I totally regretted it. It’s a big dialogue and there’s a lot involved in this quest. Do you know how hard it is to make somebody rhyme in a way that’s not completely cringey for the entire dialogue? I was three quarters into it and I so wanted to stop but I was past the point of no return. But I did it! And it worked out.” The Grand Oak should have been a LotR-style ent-like being in terms of animations and presence. When DG sees the Oak’s stationary pose he’s reminded of Silence of the Lambs. When he finished the Grand Oak and hermit quest he was like “I make way more trouble for myself than I should”. The Hermit cycles through random animations outside of conversation because he’s supposed to be twitchy and weird.

The haunted empty camp side encounter was a pain for the tech designers to make work because there’s no NPC to talk to. It was a pain whenever companions had to offer critical information like in these sorts of parts in fact, as they had to write 9 versions of each ‘line’ (1 for each companion).

There are certain spells/abilities in D&D that can make a GM’s life frustrating, such as teleportation, telling the future, resurrection. The fact that death is not permanent, for instance, should be a huge thing that affects society and how the people in it view death. This is why they were thinking stuff like “If every low-level mage in the setting had a skill like ‘Charm Person’, what would non-mages make of that?” This ties back to discussions in previous part/s where there are lore rules like no teleportation. DA was originally envisioned as a low-magic setting, but this didn’t last long [this subject is also covered in previous part/s]. The rules of magic didn’t really change though, they just weren’t really communicated that well to the other teams in the early days. They slowly realized that it was incumbent on the design team to explain and sell to the other teams the vision, not just expect them to read documentation. They were also constantly fighting against their own presuppositions of “DA is like D&D”.

Desire demons were supposed to be genderless. DG isn’t a fan of how the Fade turned out in DAO. The quests themselves were too long; they couldn’t do all the original plans they had for them so there was a lot of iteration, “then we ended up settling for something not very exciting”. Another big fight the team had was about whether they should have permanent death since DA was a more realistic world? One side’s argument was that ‘if you don’t allow for resurrection then we can’t have death in combat’. DG wondered if there was a different dichotomy they could get to but didn’t want to dictate how combat should work or tell combat designers how to do their job, as he wasn’t the one doing that work.

One of the best moves they made when working on DAI was the concept artist consulting cosplayers. This was good work not only in a fashion sense but also in that it led to making outfits for characters that someone could actually wear (contrast those with Sebastian’s outfit, which DG remembers cosplayers having trouble making functional/wearable and putting together). DG really wasn’t keen at all on Cole’s hat. When designing the clothing-clothing in DAO, the artists were trying to get the most variation for clothing out of assembling pieces. For the sake of variation they allowed pieces to go together that really shouldn’t go together. This allowed for a larger number of clothing options to be made out of a smaller number of clothing models/textures.

In Neverwinter Nights they added a “jiggle mesh” to the engine, it was used in only one place (Aribeth’s cleavage).

Writers are the first ones that jump onto a project, so when last touches and polish is being added to a game they’re often not aware of it. Once the writing is more or less locked down for a game, they start working on the next project. On every project at some point they had to have what they called the “profanity meeting”, where they decide what types of profanity exist in that world, what level of profanity they’re accepting, establishing the standard on this front, etc. This leads to fun meetings where they go through every profanity that they know and try to create new ones. “Maker’s breath!” and “Void take you!” are some of these kinds of things. They needed exclamations akin to “Goddamnit” but which made sense in this fantasy setting (“Goddamnit” implies the context of God, and the concept of damning, for example, so it doesn’t hold up) and weren’t just word substitution like “frack” instead of fuck or something.

The Grey Wardens gained their trademark blue and silver uniformed look for DA2. When the new art director Matt Goldman came on before DA2, he wanted to re-approach a number of things such as the darkspawn (mentioned in previous parts) and the Wardens. He wanted factions like the Wardens to be more uniform and easily identifiable at a distance by silhouettes and colors. He wanted factions to be more visually distinct and to introduce more color in general, as DAO was very brown and muddy. This was something of a standing mission of his when he came onto the project. He disliked the idea that there wasn’t anything unifying or distinct or ‘easily identifiable as a DAO screenshot’ about DAO screenshots, other than that brown muddiness.

Deciding how to design the Lady of the Forest was a long conversation due to the potential nsfw elements. It was a long haul to get her to look a certain way.

The thing DG found easiest/least painful to write was probably Zevran’s dialogue. He felt less pressure about it and had a bit more fun with it. Zevran has a certain story about trust that DG found pleasurable to build on; Zevran had grown up with a certain expectation of deceit and trauma, and when confronted with earnest feelings, that was the more puzzling part for [Zevran] to process. “When you expect everyone around you to deceive you, you’re kinda like, okay, this is life. But then to figure out, ‘oh, I guess it doesn’t need to be that way’, well how do you even... not?” DG remembers straight male players complaining on the forum after accepting Zevran’s massage tent-invite and not clocking that that was an invite of a certain nature. Overall Zevran was a more relaxed piece of writing for him. Shale came later but writing Shale was also a lot of fun. Like HK-47, “you can string together a few quirks that you find amusing and people will still treat that like a character and love it”.

In DA2 there was an entire subplot centered around the Carta and Varric. It spanned all three Acts. Mary Kirby had written it to completion and it was good. DG had to tell her it was among the cuts they needed to do because it was written a bit later relative to other stuff and because cutting it offered the most return according to the schedule and resources/subsequent downstream work. In cases like these they sometimes take the cut plotbeats and put it in a ‘box’, in the hopes that they may be able to use it for DLC or something later on. In practise this doesn’t happen very often at all. On DAO it did happen once with Shale. Shale was cut from DAO and had to be moved to become Day 1 DLC. Work on Shale therefore took place after most of the game had been finished. If they hadn’t done this, she would have been cut completely. It also sort of happened on DAO with Loghain. It originally had a whole plotline in Denerim involving him which had the player figuring out his background, motivations and interacting more with Anora. All of that got cut (requiring the cutscenes mentioned at the start of this post being added), and this is where the idea came of writing a novel (The Stolen Throne). This occurred in the period when the game had been delayed and DG particularly regretted that particular cut. He thought, “I could take this story that you were going to learn about the history of Loghain and his relationship with Cailan, and rescue it in a way.” [source]

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[Part 5]

[Part 6]

[‘Insights into DA dev from the Gamers For Groceries stream’ transcript]

#dragon age #bioware #video games #cole #spirit boy

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andromedia5 · 3 years

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For the writing prompts, could you do BatCat for 13?

She came and went. That was her whole thing, that was the basis for everything. That was just how she was, just how they were. It was just Selina being Selina.

He couldn’t fucking stand it. And yet he understood it. He knew her, knew why she needed to feel like she could always leave. It was so he couldn’t leave her. Which broke his heart into about a million pieces.

Bruce tugged at the eyes of his cowl. He was going to have to ask Alfred about putting some padding or something to stop it from digging into his brow. His old one hadn't done this. Just because Lucius didn’t think the previous model was perfect didn’t mean it hadn't worked. Well, kind of worked. It’s not like a small concussion was that big a deal, he was only twenty one.

He didn’t have much to do tonight. Crime had gone down slightly in the last few weeks and he suspected that the general opinion of Gotham’s underworld was that if they waited him out, The Batman would go away. They had held off on anything major, leaving him with just a few low level thugs. All low level except her.

As much as he probably shouldn’t, Bruce admired Selina. Much of the initial awe at someone his age who could and did do things for themselves has worn off years ago but now as Batman. . .

He had gone halfway around the world, getting training from Cain, discipline from centuries old tests of indurence, and a God knows how many dollar suit, designed by one of the most brilliant men he knew. And Selina, true to form had side stepped the work, ignored or stole the resources she’d need and ended up being better then he was anyway. She was really good at this. Selina, or Catwoman had gone for simplicity and style over anything else. She wasn’t going out looking for a fight like he was. Her goal was to be in and out before she ever had to bare her claws. That didn’t mean she backed away from a fight when he showed up.

Bruce had tried reasoning with her at first. Tried to talk her out of this.

‘Just give me the necklace, Cat. You can walk, I won’t try to stop you,’

She hadn’t even answered, he just heard the crack of her whip and felt it wrap around his ankle. That had been when she pulled. Hard.

His head had smacked against the floor (hence the concussion from his first mask) and his vision separated before the two Selina’s morphed back into one and he jumped to his feet. She was laughing, and flipping backwards into slow backbends, dodging the lasers as they moved.

Cat got up gracefully at the entrance to the museums gem display, standing under the skylight she had cut a hole in, her dark tan skin glowing in the moonlight.

‘Shit’

“Let me help you Selina,” he had called out, feeling awkward and second guessing the cape. Was the batsuit, or whatever they were calling it too much? It felt like too much. Especially when she looked like that.

“Bat,” she called out, climbing up to the ceiling, “I appreciate the offer,” from where he was standing it looked like she was smiling. Why was she smiling, this was a robbery? This was a robbery, why wasn’t he stopping her?

“But I don’t need your help,”

That was the last time he had let her go (and he had let her go, no matter what Alfred had said as he held the ice pack to his head). It’s not like he was going to hurt her for real. Fighting with her didn’t bring the same frustrations of feeling more like a kid playing dress up then a white knight or whatever he was supposed to be. Fighting with Selina was . . . a game, kind of, he wasn’t sure exactly. It was confusing, she was confusing and he felt sixteen again every time, because she was infuriating.

And he loved every second of it.

Which is why he noticed when it had been weeks since he had seen her. On a rooftop, at a gala, in a bank, a jewelry store. He didn’t give a damn where, but if he went one more night without her trying to steal something-

That sounded bad. Bruce didn’t want her to break the law. But he wanted her to sneak into the manor late at night, wanted her to perch on the arm of his chair and ask about any scratches like they hadn’t come from her. He could act the part of the playboy but it was still Selina he wanted there in the morning.

Bruce sighed and checked the time. It was almost four am. She wasn’t going to show up. He should probably loose the cape.

It was too early when Alfred woke him up, afternoon sunlight pouring through the the windows as the drapes were pulled back by his very clearly sadistic butler who turned on the shower, told him to stop sulking and go shave, turned an abrupt 180 and left the room muttering something about teenagers. Bruce would have shouted back a reminder that he was an adult but the fact that he currently had burrowed into his covers to avoid the daylight seemed to hurt his point.

The rest of the day was filled with Alfred trying to fit all the calories he missed by sleeping through breakfast into one meal (he could live with protein powder but it didn’t belong in orange juice) and being quizzed on board members and their wives. Because on top of everything a bunch of people he didn’t care about were coming to his house.

If Carter Hearst didn’t stop talking about his newest secretary like she was a piece of meat he was going to stab a steak knife into his own thigh. Or the shriveled old man making his way through a bottle and a half of scotch. Both would work. Bruce was trying to silently communicate to Lucius a message to save who ever this woman was and have her work for literally anyone else, when he saw her.

Barely a second and it was only a glimpse of the side of her face before she disappeared back into the crowd but everything in him knew it was Selina. He didn’t even realize he was craning his neck till Lucius’s foot connected with his ankle disapprovingly. Right, yeah, people.

“You’ll all have to excuse me,” he said, grinning broadly trying to really turn on the charm, do anything to get him out of the table. She was not slipping through his fingers like this, not when he hadn’t seen her for months.

“I see an executive I really do have to talk to. You all know how it is, I’m sure.”

“Which executive?” Lucius asked, feigning interest as the old man tried to keep the laughter off his face. Bruce glared and desperately tried to think of a name off the Wayne Enterprises directory.

“David Clemonte,”

Lucius took a sip of his drink and rubbed his beard thoughtfully “I could’ve sworn I remember Daniel telling me he wouldn’t be able to attend tonight,”

Was there a way of him faking a medical emergency that would require him to get to Selina? No, right?

“Ahh no, he was referring to the benefit in July. My mistake,”

Bruce was able to manage a forced chuckle before he all but sprinted away. She was out one one of the balconies that opened from the ballroom. He ran a hand through his hair and walked out to join her.

“Cat,”

Selina turned and everything in his stomach tightened. She had her hair pulled up to one side with a clip and earrings made of tiny gold strands brushed her shoulders. Her dress was black with straps crossing back and forth over her back and two slits in the skirt up her thighs.

“Hi,” she said in a way that made it very clear he had been caught staring. “Nice party, don’t really know anyone but I guess that’s what happens when you gatecrash,”

“I don’t either, not really,” he pointed out, taking a sip of her champagne, which if he was being honest, he preferred a thousand times over to the dark amber whiskey he had drank with the board. “These things are boring when you’re gone,”

Selina looked uncomfortable but laughed it off, and it sounded fake and hollow “Yeah well, I am kind of your only friend,”

“That’s not why I missed you,”

She turned away from him, staring out at the garden “I’m sorry,”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he didn’t know why she was. It’s not like they were . . . she didn’t owe him anything.

They were silent for a moment before she turned to him, took her glass out of his hand and tipped her head back, finishing it off with so little class it made him smile.

“Do you ever feel a kind of deja vu? Ever since,” Selina’s eyes flicked upwards to the roof and she smirked, “you know. Like we’re starting again but we both know we’ve done this before,”

“Groundhog’s Day,”

Her brow furrowed “I’ve never seen that movie,”

Bruce rolled his eyes “Okay, this and Star Wars, really?”

“Why would I watch boring movies? I’m pretty.” she teased and everything seemed to fall back into place. “Besides not all of us grew up with movie theaters in our house.”

“I know that,” he said sheepishly.

Selina snorted, that weird little snicker she did every time she had him beat, but she was smiling.

“What do you know?”

“I missed you,”

#timeline what timeline?#I really loved this and I didn't expect to #you know a couple's iconic when they still work for a gay song #batcat #gotham #bruce wayne #selina kyle #brucelina #swiftie writing prompts #my wriitng #asks

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salixj · 3 years

Link

(December 21, 2020 / JNS) It’s one of the few rap videos around that features a lead singer in frockcoat, tallis and shtreimel—paired with a cascade of gold chains (one bearing a Magen David) and leopard-skin scarf—dancing with guys from the ‘hood facing off against others in Chassidic garb.

As such, “Mothaland Bounce,” where our hero proudly calls himself “Hitler’s worst nightmare,” reveals much about the man behind it and what it means to be a passionate and deeply committed Jew of color.

Because for Nissim Black—successful rapper, father of six and Orthodox Jew—the video makes a strong statement about how Jews of color merge their very disparate identities into a (nearly) seamless whole.

(Fans may want to check out Black’s newest rap video “Hava”—a thoroughly Nissim spin on the traditional “Hava Nagila”—its release timed for the first night of Hanukkah).

Black is perhaps the most famous of today’s Jews of color. (Readers of a certain age will recall when singer Sammy Davis Jr. could claim that honor).

Though the term itself has gained traction in the last decade, there have always been Jews of different races. Scan the globe today, and you’ll find Ethiopian Jews and the African Lemba tribe whose men test positive for the Kohen gene, a marker of the Jewish priests.

What’s more, many Sephardic, Cuban, Mexican and Yemenite Jews consider themselves Jews of color. Not to mention the murky waters surrounding pockets of the Black Hebrews found in Israel (largely in Dimona and Arad in the Negev Desert) and around the Diaspora, many of whom claim descent from the ancient Israelites.

The numbers are equally murky. Estimates range from 6 percent to 12 percent—or even as much as 15 percent—of today’s Jewish population being Jews of color. But there is little in the way of standardized definition of who is a Jew; some studies count all the members of a household as Jewish household when only one member actually is. But when researchers Arnold Dashefsky and Ira M. Sheskin held the disparate estimates of Jews of color up to the light of demographic standards earlier this year, they concluded that the percentage of Jews of color “is almost certainly closer to 6 percent nationally [from the 2013 Pew study] than 12 to 15 percent. And this percentage has not increased significantly since 1990, although it is likely to do so in the future.”

It stands to reason that this year of painful racial tensions across North America could trigger an internal debate in African-American Jews, especially those who came to the faith not through birth or adoption, but who, like Black, embraced Judaism as adults.

And embrace it many of them do—with passion, perseverance and a deep appreciation—often overcoming raised eyebrows, insensitivity and even downright racism in the process. With a surprising number of them finding their spiritual home in Orthodox Judaism.

Nissim Black

Damian Jamohl Black, whom the world knows now as rapper Nissim Black, was born into a family of Seattle drug dealers in 1986. His childhood was pockmarked by FBI raids on his home, his dad was taken away in handcuffs, and he was accustomed to assorted incidents of street violence and crime. By 9, he was smoking marijuana, and plants were growing in his room. By 12, he’d joined the family business.

The only faith Black was exposed to back then was his grandfather’s Islam. His first religious service? A mosque, which he attended until his grandfather went to prison.

But at 13, Black was pulled into Christianity by missionaries. He now says it was the best thing that could have happened to him. “This was the first time I was around people who had normal healthy relationships. No one sold drugs, they had a heart for kids from the inner city, and their summer camp was the most fun I’d had in my life,” he recalls. “Becoming religious saved me from the world of street gangs.”

By high school, he was “the poster child of the missionary center.” That’s when he met the woman who would become his wife. As a Seventh-Day Adventist, Jamie (now Adina) went to church on Saturdays. They wed in 2008 but remarried in an Orthodox ceremony after their conversion five years later.

By 19, Black was making rap music professionally, and his mother died of an overdose. But by 20, Christianity was beginning to feel foreign to him, and he began wondering what the Jews walking in his neighborhood on Saturday mornings were up to. “I went to Rabbi Google and found Chabad.org. And it all began to make sense,” he says. “I told my wife [they were newlyweds] that I didn’t want to celebrate Christmas and Easter anymore. Pretty soon, she was doing her own digging into Judaism.”

The couple’s conversion followed in 2013 and aliyah to Israel three years later. The Blacks now make their home in Ramat Beit Shemesh with their six children, ages 1 to 12. “I wanted my kids to grow up here,” he says, “where they’d see Jews of different shades all praying the same prayers.”

“I’ve checked every box, right?” he says with a laugh. “One rabbi at my yeshivah told me, ‘You have a lot of strikes against you: You’re black, you’re a convert and you’re a Breslov Chassid. And in all these things is your greatness.”

Maayan Zik

Maayan Zik was 13 when her soul woke her up. Growing up in Washington, D.C., with her mom and sister—her parents divorced when she was in first grade, and she didn’t see her dad for another 10 years—she attended Catholic schools and was close with her maternal grandparents, Jamaican immigrants who took her to museums and taught her the value of hard work and education.

Accompanying her Jamaican-born grandmother to church every Sunday, by 13, Zik had “begun to wonder if what my family believes is right for me.” She explored a number of world religions, but when she saw a photo of her light-skinned Jamaican great-grandmother Lilla Abrams, whom family lore says was Jewish, “I realized I had to go way back to find out who I am.”

When she moved to an apartment in 2005 in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y., she noticed the previous tenant had a left up a poster of a white-bearded man. “I said to myself, ‘I’m going to find out who you are.’ The man turned out to be the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Two years later, after courses and a summer seminary program, she converted. Thirteen years later, now 36, Zik remains there—with her Israeli-born husband and four children. “This somewhat awkward coexistence that lives inside me” fades into the background when she begins to pray, she says. “Having a personal conversation with God as part of the Jewish people, it’s who I’ve always been; I just didn’t know it.”

Mordechai Ben Avraham

Black and Mordechai Ben Avraham are both African-Americans from the West Coast (Seattle and Los Angeles, respectively), and both found Judaism in their 20s. But their early environment could hardly have been more different.

Growing up in an affluent neighborhood with a successful businessman father and a professor mother, “my focus was on how someday I could make more money than my dad.”

Ben Avraham’s spiritual journey took him from Sufism to the Kabbalah until at 22 he experienced Shabbat in a Carlebach-style minyan. “It was like I was floating in outer space. This is what Jews do? This is amazing! The Torah, the prayers, this beautiful spiritual system God gave to the Jews for people to transform themselves—they literally grabbed my heart.” His conversion was complete in 2013 with his move to Israel three years later.

Now 39, the former TV producer is living in the heart of Jerusalem’s religious Mea Shearim neighborhood, working towards his rabbinical degree and publishing a book on the joys of Torah as a black Jew.

But why would anyone who’s already making a huge leap religiously and culturally choose to embrace Orthodoxy with its full menu of mitzvot, accepting the Torah as Divine and committing to living within halachah (Jewish law)?

“If someone is going to make this big of a change completely based on their need to go beyond, there’s a very real tendency to go what many would consider ‘all the way,’ ” says Henry Abramson, dean of Brooklyn’s Touro College and author of The Kabbalah of Forgiveness: The Thirteen Levels of Mercy in Rabbi Moshe Cordovero’s Date Palm of Devorah (2014), among other titles.

A shared history

Much of this tendency to search spiritually can be traced to African-Americans’ religious experience in America, adds Abramson. “Since the 1960s, we’ve seen the phenomenon of questioning the Christianity foisted on their slave ancestors.”

And though Islam has attracted many of these disenfranchised souls—in part, he says, because the black Muslim culture permeated prisons beginning in the 1960s—Judaism offers another option.

Ben Avraham maintains that, in a spiritual sense, Judaism may feel familiar to those raised in the black church. “Like Judaism, gospel Christianity is an intense personal relationship with God without any intermediaries,” he says.

This is a connection Ben Avraham experiences every day of his life. “Living in Mea Shearim, in a fundamental way, I’m around people who are just like me. I just connect with my Chassidic neighbors.”

A growing fissure

But after the 1960s and ’70s, when Jews fought alongside blacks for civil rights in the United States and in South Africa, “there’s been a growing fissure between blacks and Jews,” says Rabbi Maury Kelman who, as director of Route 613, a New York City conversion program, has welcomed many students of different races into his classes.

And, with last summer’s rise in violence between the African-American community and the religious Jewish community, primarily in New York,” says Black, “lately, it’s gotten uglier.”

‘I cried all the way home’

Not everyone in the Jewish community rolls out the proverbial red carpet for someone of color.

After working up the courage to walk into synagogue on Shabbat, Zik couldn’t miss the two women glaring at her, eventually yelling at her to get out and threatening to call the police before giving chase.

“I cried all the way home, but my friends would not let me give up,” she says. “I also knew from everything I’d read about the Rebbe, with his emphasis on love and kindness, that eventually this would be the right place for me.”

“Unfortunately, like in all communities, you’ll find the occasional ignorant Jew or racist,” allows Kelman, who offers programs on the importance of accepting the convert.

A time of racial tensions

With this year’s heated racial debates and demonstrations following the May 25 killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis, where does that put Jews of color, with feet in both the African-American and Jewish worlds?

Zik, for one, helped lead a rally in Crown Heights this summer where black neighbors shared their experiences with racism. “It was a reminder,” she says, “that the Torah teaches us to protect the rights of all God’s children.”

And the learning goes both ways, she adds. “When black friends ask me if now that I’m Jewish, do I have money? I tell them about the Jews I know who struggle to pay for rent, food and their kids’ yeshivah tuitions. I tell them that, when I’ve had my babies, neighbors bring us meals and help furnish the nursery. People here always want to do another mitzvah.”

Ben Avraham also says he better appreciates African-American history because he is a Jew. “We can see our own story reflected in the Torah,” he says. “Our two peoples had so many struggles just to survive.”

Adds Black: “Just knowing there are black religious Jews can help the two communities see they aren’t completely separate after all—not to judge each other so quickly.”

Kelman agrees. “Black Jews can be a terrific bridge chiefly because they have credibility on both sides. It’s increasingly important to teach our fellow Jews that we’re a family that comes in different colors, that Judaism is colorblind,” he says. “Once they convert, they’re just as Jewish as any of us—and our diversity only strengthens us.”

‘Something bigger than myself’

By the end of “Mothaland Bounce,” the guys from the ’hood and the Chassids are dancing together with Black as ringmaster.

But it may be “A Million Years” that’s Black’s love letter to Judaism.

In this 2016 music video (with singer Yisroel Laub), Black takes a journey proudly carrying a Torah throughout Israel—archeological digs, mountain caves, a busy shuk (marketplace) and Jerusalem’s Old City—turning heads as he goes. (Don’t miss the moment when Black stops to let some haredi kids lovingly kiss the Torah), finally nestling it inside a synagogue’s ark.

“Since I was a kid, I was looking to be part of something bigger than myself,” says Black. “I prayed and prayed, and finally, I knew who I needed to be, a Jew, and where I needed to be, the Holy Land. It took time but now God’s answered my prayers. And one thing I know is that to God there is no such thing as color. He sees us for who we are inside.”

As he raps:

“I came from a distance Where everything was different … I called out to You And You showed me that You listened … I gave my all to You And You showed me who I am.”

#Israel #Jews of Color

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ingravinoveritas · 4 years

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Hello there. I just wanna say I love your MS/DT posts. I have to admit, I've been shipping them since I saw the interviews last year. And believe me, I tried not to, but there's something special between them. I've seen GO, Staged, their interviews and their chemistry is incredible. The way they treat each other is so soft and beautiful. Michael's totally smitten by him and David has his moments, too, although he controls himself better. And who knows, maybe they were/are secretly lovers.

Aw, thanks so much, Anon! Glad you’re digging the MS/DT posts. Also, the last line of your ask immediately got me thinking of a song called “Secret Lovers.” If you haven’t heard it, it’s this ‘80s slow jam and at least some of the lyrics are definitely reminiscent of our boys. Give it a listen when you have a chance and you’ll see what I mean. As to the rest of your comments, I feel you hard, Anon. I also tried not to ship them, but as I’ve said, Michael and David just keep doing and saying things that prevent me from not shipping them, so there you go. I agree with you about Michael being totally smitten, and David controlling himself better (although I love the brief moments where Michael’s attention is so intense that David almost loses a little bit of control).

Totally also agree about how they treat each other, and your description is spot-on. I was daydreaming about Michael’s recent stint in London for the play he was in, and hoping that he and David were able to get together while Michael was in town. And as hot as it is to imagine them having passionate, bed-shaking sex after so many months apart, I found myself picturing something more tender.

Like maybe Michael gave David a key to his hotel room, and when he came back from the theater, all knackered and spent after a full performance, there was David fresh out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist, ready to greet Michael with a kiss. Michael’s too full of want, to full of need to deny him despite his tiredness, and he kisses David back, guiding him to the bed. David’s long fingers eagerly pull at Michael’s clothes, nudging up the hem of his shirt to trace over his stomach and Michael whispers sweet nothings against David’s lips.

And maybe they just laid in bed for a while watching an old movie on TV, Michael sitting against the pillows with one arm around David, threading a hand in his long, soft lockdown hair while David rests his head on Michael's chest, reaching up to toy with the coarse curls of his beard... “How did you describe it?”

Michael gazes down at him, watching David as he watches the movie, the light from the TV flickering over the plane of his forehead and the line of his angular jaw.

“Cuddly. Big, cuddly beard.”

You are a wonder, Michael thinks, overwhelmed with a desire to draw his beard across every inch of David’s bare skin. He longs to rub it against David’s sensitive inner thighs until he is red and wanting, inhaling the scent of David’s arousal as each feather light touch threatens to unravel him...

“Well, go on. Is it?”

“Mhm,” David murmurs, his hand sliding to Michael’s cheek, tilting his head up for another kiss. It’s somehow filthy and chaste at the same time, and it makes Michael love him even more.

“Can confirm. Very cuddly.”

...Just being close like that, enjoying each other’s company, because that’s the one thing Michael and David haven’t been able to do for all these months, and the thing that’s arguably been the hardest to do without. How perfect and lovely that would be. (Of course, the sex would come later, because they wouldn’t be able to resist each other for long. But that’s a whole other story...)

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #freestyle smut #i didn't mean to write a thing but i wrote a thing #these idiots just bring it out of me #what can i say #their chemistry is and always will be amazing #i love them so #good omens rpf #fanfic #discourse

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yeetingmyfeeling · 4 years

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Run, Run, Run!

Chapter Two

Brian woke up with a start. His injuries felt mostly better, but he was still in his wolf form. He sat up, looking around the room. He could still only see through one eye, making him frown. He sniffed, smelling too many different, unknown scents.

He hauled his body up, whining at the pressure on his paws. With this he quickly changed back to his human form. As he did, he heard a knock on the door. Brain squeaked.

“Hey! I’m just here to help clean up your wounds,” A voice called out. “There are some clothes on the bed, they are new and clean.” Brian looked over to the bed, indeed seeing clothes. He pulled them on. It was boxers, a grey jumper and black sweatpants. They were a little too big for his frame, but he didn’t mind. “Can I come in?”

“Y-yeah!” Brain called out quietly. He moved, sitting down on the bed. The door pushed open and someone entered the room. From his smell, Brian knew he was a wolf. He was around the same height, maybe a little taller. He had a mohawk, mullet of sorts. He gave Brian a soft smile.

“My name is Brock, what is yours?” The man slowly approached Brian, standing a few feet away from him. “I know you just pulled on your jumper, but I’m going to need you to take it off again.”

“Brian,” Responded the other. He did as asked, pulling off his jumper. Brock gestured towards his body and Brian nodded. Brock walked over, grabbing a first aid kit that was also on the bed. Brock began to dress his wounds. Brian was tense.

Brock cleaned the injury on his chest. He ended up having to use medical tape, then putting gauze over the top. He wrapped up one of Brian's hands, and one of his feet. A few other bandaids and such were placed, and a gauze over his injured eye.

“Feel free to go have a shower, the band aids are all good. Then just come down for breakfast,” Brock smiled kindly again. “Just listen for the loud yelling and you’ll find it. Are you okay with that?”

Brian nodded quietly. “Okay..” Brock gave the other a hesitant look, but got up to leave. He left the room, leaving Brian in peace. Brian spotted the other door, that wasn’t the one Brock just left through. Opening it, it was a bathroom. Brian took the leisure of having a nice, warm shower.

After his shower, he got dressed back in the clothes. He slowly walked out of his room, more scents hitting his nose. His face crinkled from the new smells, food, people, alphas. Brian continued his slow pace of walking, following the smell and the loud noises. He ended up downstairs, outside a pair of large doors. He slowly pushed them open.

Everyone turned to look at the new entrance. Brian’s eyes widened and he ducked his head. “Brian,” It was Brock. “Come sit here,” Walking over, Brock had saved a spot for Brian. He sat down, staring at his lap. Brock pointed at the food spread out on the table. “Dig in.”

Brian looked up enough to see Brock, he was still smiling at him. He turned, looking at the food. He could feel his mouth watering. He reached over, eagerly grabbing some toast. He found the butter and the jam, spreading it on the toast. He found an empty glass, and filled it up with juice from a jug.

“So,” Brock started talking, filling up the silence. All eyes were on Brian. “Everyone, this is Brian,” Brian waved shyly, his face flush. “That’s Anthony and Marcel, they are the ones who took you home,” A friendly face looked at him, a happy looking grin. He had tattoos, Brain thought they looked cool. The man next to his was dark toned and had curly hair. “That’s John, Jarren and Scotty, they are beta’s,” John had hair down to his shoulders, going from brown to blonde. As well as spots on his face. Jarren had short brown hair and looked quite childish. Scotty looked similar, but skinnier.

“That is Luke and Ryan,” Luke was very intimidating looking, a full beard, and an arm over Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan also had a beard, but a friendlier smile. “That is Evan and Jonathan, Evan is our packs Alpha,” Evan was very intimidating, although his smile was gentle. His skin was tan, a contrast against Jonathan’s very pale skin. “Then those two, are Tyler and David,” Tyler was definitely the biggest of them all, and had the light showings of facial hair. David was skinny, but seemingly the same height.

Brian’s eyes widened when they landed on the last two. He sniffed, their scents wasting into his nose. They both smelt so good. Brian frowned, not understanding why he felt that way. He could tell Tyler was an alpha, David a beta. He quickly turned back to Brock.

Evan was the one who started talking. “So, Brian. As you can tell, we are quite a small pack. We are looking to eventually have pups among the couples, we are finding our way around it.”

“Hard when most of us are gays,” John snorted out.

“Yes, well,” Evan scratched the back of his head. “Regardless. Brian, it looks like you were running from something, someone? Judging from your injuries.”

Brian nodded quietly. He could tell everyone was watching him, waiting for his answer. “My pack.. They treated me like a toy, so, I ran,” He gulped, looking down at his lap. He hated feeling, and acting so quiet and submissive. He’s usually witty and sarcastic. “I finally got away, not without a few good byes.”

Evan nodded in understanding. “Well, feel free to stay with us,” He leaned forward, smiling at Brian. “I am not saying, join our pack. But, when the time comes, and you wish to, just come speak to me. Alright?” Brian just nodded in response.

“Jon and I better head to work,” Brock stood up, Jonathan following soon after. “Who has the day off to show Brian around?”

“Myself, Tyler and David,” John responded. “I can show Brian around, teach him the ropes.”

“Don’t be too scary,” Brock pointed a finger in John’s direction. That finger quickly went to Tyler. “Don’t be all… Alpha.”

Tyler held his hands up in defence. “I haven’t even done anything!”

“Yet,” Brock’s eyes narrowed. “Brian, my number is on the fridge. If anything happens, just call, okay?” Brian nodded again.

Slowly people started to file out of the room. They bid their goodbyes, see you laters, and headed off to work. Brian sat quietly as everyone left, finishing off his toast. He now sat with John opposite him, Tyler and David sitting further up.

Evan came up to the small Irishman, giving a small wave. “Your accent, you’re irish right? David is also Irish,” Brian didn’t respond, just chewed on the crust of his toast. Evan frowned. “I hope this place feels safer for you, and if you need anything, I am the alpha. I promise i’m not like others… Hey, you don’t have any belongings do you?”

Brain shook his head. “I didn’t bring anything, I didn’t have much anyway.”

Evan pulled his wallet out of his pocket, waving it around. “That is all good, I’m sure these four can take you shopping. Can’t you boys?”

“Shopping?” Tyler groaned, throwing his head back. “I fuckin’ hate shopping man.”

“Quit ya complaining,” David spoke, and Brian could clearly hear the Irish. “That’s fine Evan, we’ll take care of the lad.” John saluted in agreement.

Evan chucked his wallet at John, who caught it with ease. “I’m trusting you guys,” Then with a few more words or warning, Evan was gone. That left the four, sitting in an uncomfortable silence.

Brian took this chance to look at the men he was surrounded by. Mainly, the two men sitting further away from him. He shook his head, ignoring the feel in the pit of his stomach.

“Shopping?” Questioned John. He pushed away from the table, standing up. “You two go get dressed, I’ll show Brian around,” Without waiting for a response, John began to leave the room. “Come on dude,” Brian took this as his hint to get up and follow after the other.

John showed him around the house, or, mansion. There were three levels. First level was basic stuff like kitchen, dining room, living room, a few closets, two bathrooms, things like that. The second level was everyone's rooms, as well as spares. Some bigger than others. The third level was Evan’s office, storage, and a games room.

Going outside there was a large car fort, three cars currently sitting there. Apparently the truck and sports car was Tyler’s, while the plain white car was David’s. Brain liked the sports car.

They were in the middle of a forest, from the trees that surrounded the house. It was a large area, and Brian could only smell this pack. That made him feel comforted, safe.

Tyler and David soon joined the other two outside, and Brian was upset to hear they were not going to be taking the sports car. Instead they climbed into the plain white car. David at the wheel, Tyler next to him. John and Brian in the back.

“I hate how you drive,” Tyler had his arms crossed over his chest, pout on his lips. “I wish I could drive, my car is so much better.”

“Oh shut up,” David rolled his eyes. “Stop being a whiny baby, neither of your two cars are good for shopping,” Tyler just huffed in response.

Brian sat quietly, watching out the window as they drove. He liked that they were deep in the forest. He almost wanted to stick his head out the window, much like a dog. He leaned his head on the window, watching the trees. He saw some birds fly.

They get to a mall, David parking in the busy parking lot. Brian frowned, already seeing lots of people. They all got out of the car, and Brian unconsciously stuck close to Tyler, the Alpha. John led them through the mall, squeezing past all the people. They went to a few clothes stores.

Each time, David would get distracted by something and wonder off. Tyler would walk around, keeping a close eye on them all. John pulled Brian around, pulling out random clothes and asking if he liked them. Brian shrugged. He wouldn’t wear much at his old pack, usually just his underwear and a loose shirt. He did say he liked wearing sweatpants, shorts, and loose shirts or nice shirts.

So John took him around and bought all the clothes he would need. Underwear, pants, shorts, different kinds of shirts, socks, singlets, swimmers, pyjamas, nice clothes. Anything he could need. David was pushing around a trolley full of the bags. Brian felt so overwhelmed.

John then took him to get other things. Toiletries, books, and other little things. According to Tyler, it’s Evan’s card so milk it. Brian has never really had people buy him things, or gone shopping. So he had no idea on what to get. John did end up taking him to get heat suppressants.

They were now sitting down having lunch, and Brian felt exhausted. He sat, quietly eating his burger from McDonald’s. His legs were bouncing in anxiousness, and he was barely halfway through his burger.

“You good?” Tyler leaned over to Brian. Brian got a big whiff of his scent, and his face immediately flushed. The smell smelt like farm, wet dog, and chocolate. He repressed the sigh in his throat. If he looked over to Tyler, ee noticed some muscle in his arm through the flannel. He gulped.

“I think he’s tired,” John frowned. He leaned over the table, swatting at Tyler. “Let the boy breathe, big alpha.” Tyler sat back in his seat with a pout.

They soon finished with their shopping, and Brian was very happy. They packed the bags in David’s boot, some having to sit in with him and John. Then they drove home. Brian fell asleep for a bit of the ride, waking with a start before they returned to the mansion.

Brian tiredly got out of the car, knowing he had to put all the bags away before he got to sleep. The four eached grabbed a few bags and took them up to Brian’s room. They were placed down in the centre.

Brain turned to grab one of the bags, only to run into a chest. He took a step back, glancing up to see David. The Irishman gave him a lopsided smile.

“You look tired, maybe you should nap?” David suggested. For the second time that day, Brian was hit with another scent. This time he got a smell of home, home being Ireland. Brain had to stop himself from taking in a deep breath to get more of the scent.

He just nodded. “Yeah, I think I will,” He turned to the other two and smiled a small smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem dude!” John saulted. Tyler just nodded. Then the three left. Brain walked over to the bed, faceplanted, and immediately fell asleep.

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agentaace · 4 years

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artemis fowl liveblog, if anyones interested (disclaimers: i was a HUGE fan of the books when i was younger but i barely remember anything, and i am pretty high right now)

its gonna be long folks! like..... really long

okay. news reporters. is that.... the digging guy??

YEAH ITS MULCH!! is he.... the narrator??? why is he the narrator???

who is this surfing child. the artemis i know has never stepped foot outside. i dont think he ever went to school either "an unusual kid" NOT UNUSUAL ENOUGH.... this kid looks to much like a cinnamon roll..... WHY IS HIS MOM DEAD

a hoverboard? a fucking hoverboard???

humans shouldnt know about the faeries

this bitch wearing jeans? also the dad looks like david from schitts creek but older

i should mention that the first time i heard this movie was approaching i looked up who was cast for Holly Short, bc i DISTINCTLY remember her explicetly canonically having brown skin bc i used to draw her!!! also butler's name wasnt revealed until like the third book and it was a BIG DEAL, youre just gonna drop it just like that?

whys artemis dressed like edmund pevensie...... fucking knock off version. edmund had more evil in his body than this wannabe supervillain and edmund was a GOOD BOY

hate this version of butler. hes too nice. hes helpful and kind. why has disney spat in my face

OH SHIT FAIRYWORLD LOOKS DOPE AF, somehow almost exactly like inused to picture it!! one good detail!! and if holly wasnt whitewashed she'd be kinda cute,,,,

this is not a compliment to the movie at all but i still absolutely love the faeries being super sci fi and tech oriented, thats incredible.... scifi fantasy DREAM HYBRID

oh god last time i saw judy dench was in the cats movie,,, she stared into my soul,,,, i cannot forget. though yeah she is a good commander root actually from what little i remember, the vibes are right

pleasebejuliapleasebejulia.... oh its juliet but SHE IS HERE!!!!!!!!!! h his twelve year old neice??? no??? she is his like 17 year old sister

oh my god foaly..... ok he looks cool as hell actually.... too bad his legs are animated weird!!! i would die for him

the l.e.p.recon suit and the wings actually look pretty close to whay i pictured too.... and the troll scene!!! holy shit i remember this!!! and thats how artemis finds her..... yess.... god those books were good.... time-freeze bubble foreshadowing omg i REMEMBER THAT and artemis figures out a way to avoid it..... holy shit im having so many flashbacks

OPAL KOBOI OH MY GOD wasnt she not until the third book??? and the dad and the aculos stuff too???? why are they mixing them up like this

okay kidnapping scene and where holly and artemis meet is sorta exactly what i remember, like i feel like its almost line for line tbh

pacing is wack, i feel like the time freeze was much later in the book and holly was captive for like, a majority.... also, now that artemis is playing villain to holly it feels a lot more natural, he is SUPPOSED to be snarky and rude and mean

"top o' the morning" very funny judy dench line, but i dont think its funny for the reasons disney intended

ARTEMIS IN A SUIT, FINALLY!!! also, Take The Shot! lmao. and see... this little good artemis doesnt make sense to have this extremely thorough and detailed and villainous plan, why couldnt disney just make him evil

HEY I REMEMBER THE GOBLIN FIRE THING IN PRISON W MULCH ACTUALLY..... NICE

"youre enjoying all this, you think it's a game!" YES! wht couldnt disney just lean into this and commit!!! i just wish this child looked like more of a bastard!!

hehehe david bowie is a faerie (though i'm.... not really liking josh gad's comedic relief role here.... thats nothing new) FUCK ME I FORGOT ABOUT THE JAW THING I AM TOO HIGH FOR THAT SHIT THIS IS HORRIFYING

iris cam!!! vividly remember that!!! and the finger gun thing, did they use that too?? loved that, will be disapointed if its not here

eeeughfjhf i forgot about the dwarf beard hair thing too oh GOD

the aculos looks good according to my awful memory!!! nice

the cudgeon storyline was NOT in the first book, not that i can remember, amd its not even interesting?? it just clutters up this movie with some nonsense. i dont like it.

that troll fucking YEETED butler eeeeeigufjkd the jaw thing again noooooo

like okay i like that artemis looks Baby, i like that he looks 12, i just wanted a shittier twelve year old. this ones too nice!! toss him out!!!

this butler is also too cute. i needed him to be way intimidating. but this one is wholesome. fuck this

and the relationship between holly and artemis. its too good, too pure. they are so cute. in the books they were friends completely against their will.

yeah i am totally mad that they are combining the first book and the third (?) book. not everything has to be some End Of The World shit. sometimes a kid just ransoms a fairy because he wants gold and he's evil. this disney version is much more boring. like if this movie had leaned into the wholesome stuff while keeping a lower stakes plot, thatd be okay. if artemis was super evil and cool as fuck and they made the stakes a little higher.... that might have been okay? but Good People Fighting The End Of The World is every movie and it is very boring!!!!! oh my god!!!!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!? THE DAD'S NOT EVEN EVIL???? NOOOOO

holly and commander root were not close. seriously cut the wholesome shit. these were the LEAST wholesome books i read as a child. the faeries have swear words and they arent afraid to use them.

ugh the weird "we're probably not going to get a sequel but we're going to imply one anyways" thing that bad book adaptations do.... like miss peregrine's, remember that?

"i'm artemis fowl. i'm a criminal mastermind." FUCK YEAH YOU ARE GO OFF KING actually a little hyped over that line. maybe twelve is too young to be fully evil. he still has time to become Bastard.

fuck the mulch narrator bullshit. hate that. "i hope you don't get squeamish" I DO PLEASE DO NOT DO WHAT YOU ARE DOING shut the fuck up. all of you shut the fuck up you are so ANNOYING

okay its over and i am free

#artemis fowl #artemis fowl 2020 #liveblog #artemis fowl movie #funny #mine #ummmm ive only ever done liveblogs of magnus archives before #and thats on my sideblog #but i like it! might do it more especially if people like it

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fyeahcamcountry · 4 years

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Cam: The Otherside - track by track

(Apple Music)

'...“I was a total idealist,” Cam tells Apple Music. The Nashville country singer, who’s also one of the city’s most sought-after songwriters, says the five years she spent writing her sophomore album were some of the hardest of her life. “I had this Disney idea of how the world worked, and at some point that just...broke.” Tracing a string of major life changes—breaking up with her old label, inking a new contract, marrying her husband, and welcoming her first child—The Otherside reflects a dramatic shift in thinking, or her journey through disillusionment into clear-eyed realism. That evolution unlocked a new side to her sound. “My songs have always pulled from my psychology background, but I had this filter on and didn’t even know it,” she says. “Once I took that off, I could be so much more honest. I could see the world, and myself, for exactly what they were.” Read on as Cam tells us the inside story behind each song.

[[MORE]]

Redwood Tree

“I grew up in the Bay Area with a redwood tree in my backyard, and I did a lot of thinking up there. I wasn’t raised in a specific religion, but the most magical, awe-inspiring experience I can think of is being in the redwoods, feeling so small. It’s like a cathedral in that it reminds you of your place in everything. Fallen redwoods have rings that represent the thousands of years that they lived, and you’re like, ‘Oh, we’re just flies buzzing around.’ We wake up one day shocked to realize our parents are suddenly old. Like, when did my dad's beard get so white? I had watched the movie Arrival around the time we wrote this song, and I loved the idea of time not being linear. The soundtrack has these voices that go ‘Da, da, da, da,’ and we nod to that in the production. I hope time isn't linear. I hope I get more time with my parents.”

The Otherside

“Tim, or Avicii, came to Nashville a few years ago to write for one of his albums, and we were in the studio with Hillary Lindsey and Tyler Johnson. He started playing this piano melody over and over and over again, and I don't smoke cigarettes but when Hillary took a cigarette break, I was like, ‘I'm going, too.’ It was just so intense. He was really stuck on this thing. While we're out on the back porch, she and I came up with an idea for the chorus, and he loved it. But he fiddled with it for hours. He was thinking about cadence, about how we speak, about code-mapping it onto a melody, and about the actual phonetics. Tim never wound up releasing that song, so I was like, ‘Ooh, maybe that means I can.’ Even though it’s such a heavy thing not having him around for the final edits, I did feel this great responsibility to work my ass off to get it right. Because I knew that’s what he would have done.”

Classic

“On the other side of the spectrum, this is one of those songs that just magically fell into place. I went up to New York for a few sessions with Jack Antonoff at Electric Lady Studios, and it was so fun. Creatives tend to beat themselves up a lot, but Jack and I sat there jangling around on this 12-string guitar and writing a song that had this nostalgic Simon & Garfunkel ‘Cecilia’ vibe. It’s about how there are people in your life that outlast everything else—technology, fashion trends, swings in politics, whatever. Nothing's a constant in life, but a few people are. It was inspired by this moment when my husband and I were in Argentina and he found a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes. He doesn't smoke anymore, but he goes, ‘I’ve got to smoke these because they don't make ‘em like this anymore.’ And then he looks at me and goes, ‘That's a country lyric.’”

Forgetting You

“I was writing with Lori McKenna, Tyler Johnson, and Mitch Rowland, and we’re all pals from working on various projects together. Still, I always get nervous when I go write with Lori, even though she's so humble and chill, because I’m like, ‘Don't embarrass yourself in front of the poet of our generation!’ Which is to say, I knew I needed to bring in something cool. I had this line, ‘I'm getting older/But you never change.’ The song is about holding on to the concept of someone from the past, and measuring everyone up to them even though it’s no longer real. That's why you keep moving forward but they never seem to age.”

Like a Movie

“Before we were married and had a kid, I’d come home from tour and my husband and I would have this tiny bit of quality time together. And the truth is, we’d usually get high and go to Walmart. One day, we were unloading all our groceries and I was like, ‘How did you know it was me? How did you know not to settle for someone earlier or wait for someone else?’ And he just smiled and said, ‘Because when I met you, it was like a movie.’ Now, I can remember when we met. I was a mess. It did not look like a movie. But it was so, so sweet. I wrote with the love junkies—Lori McKenna, Liz Rose, and Hillary Lindsey—and the strings are David Campbell, who’s actually Beck’s dad. Jeff Bhasker wanted a ’50s movie soundtrack vibe with strings that swelled like an orchestra, and David immediately got it. Apple Music did a teaser video for the album, and if you watch it, there should be video footage from that string session.”

Changes

“I usually write all my own music, but this is the first of a couple songs on this album that I didn’t. I guess I feel like it's cheating. I'm supposed to be digging all this personal stuff up and figuring myself out, so taking someone else’s song feels like a shortcut. But I trust Harry [Styles]’s writing. I feel like he tries so hard to be himself in his music, and he doesn't take it lightly. That pursuit resonates with me. The demo had Lori McKenna singing with Harry on background vocals and his whistle, which is still in the track. It was amazing to hear a song that someone else wrote that clicked so much with me personally. It’s about feeling like you’ve outgrown where you're from, and you don't really want to admit that. It’s kind of an uncomfortable thing to say, but I love when things are uncomfortable. That means it’s important.”

Till There's Nothing Left

“This song has steamy sexual energy... Like, ‘I'm giving you my whole heart but also my body and a quickie in the back seat.’ While we were recording my vocals, I was trying to sit back and make it cool and sexy, and I realized I was blushing. I was blushing because society tells us that sexuality is a private thing. If you want to be respected as a woman, if you want to be considered intelligent, you can’t be sexual. But then I was reminded of my grandmother who was raised Baptist on a farm in Saskatchewan. She's the one who gave me the sex talk, unbeknownst to my mother. She said, ‘Sex is like a milkshake. Once you have it, you're always going to want it.’ She was comfortable with her sexuality without it being the main thing about her. So I thought, ‘If a woman born in the 1930s on a farm in Canada can own it, I can own it.”

What Goodbye Means

“A friend of mine was going through a divorce. It was pretty ugly, but he was being so kind. I asked him, ‘How are you being so nice right now? I don't get it.’ And he said, ‘Because she might change her mind.’ I still get goosebumps thinking about it. We've all been there, not quite ready to accept the reality of something, and that's okay. You've got to take it at the rate you can take it. This song has such a classic melody. It’s warm. For some reason it feels like a summer evening in New Mexico to me.”

Diane

“This song is a response to Dolly Parton’s ‘Jolene,’ and man, it really seems to resonate with people. Crowds sing it back to me in this emotional, over-the-top, theatrical way. I suppose most people have had infidelity affect their life one way or another, but it’s hard to watch people you care about go through it. There's so much shame around it that you don't get to talk about what you need or how to heal. And you almost never get to hear the other party’s side. So ‘Diane’ is my moment to role-play, I guess. I'm the other woman and I slept with your husband and I didn't know he was married, but you’ve got to know the truth. Parton's lyrics to the other woman include the word ‘please,’ and that just killed me. She's so humble and human, asking someone to please not take the love of her life away. Immediately, I was like, ‘That's the narrative. That's what is so often left unsaid.’”

Happier for You

“This is the other song that I didn't write, and it’s from Sam Smith and Tyler [Johnson]. Sam and I have a great relationship because I helped write the song ‘Palace’ for their album and then they brought me out on tour. We have a lot of trust. When Lindsay [Marias, Cam’s manager] and I first heard this demo and Sam came in singing, our jaws dropped. The emotion was so raw and honest and real. I love the juxtaposition of saying something very loud and publicly—to the point where it almost feels proud—but actually it’s something that makes you want to curl up in a ball.”

Girl Like Me

“This is the author's note at the end of the book. Natalie Hemby had come over and started playing a verse on the piano, and I was like, ‘Oh god, that is so sad.’ And she's like, ‘It's your story. This is your comeback story.’ It’s funny how sometimes you can’t recognize your own self. Writing this song was uncomfortable but in the best way, trying to pull lyrics out in the chorus (‘They’re going to give up on you/You're going to give up on them’). You can’t just become jaded. You have to push through. It’s a gift to be able to see life for what it is, and to see yourself for who you are. I think anyone who has been through that phase of disillusionment will think, ‘Oh, yeah, tough. But this side is better.’”

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ladyreapermc · 5 years

Text

Fic: This isn’t a rom-com (1/?)

Author’s notes: So this was basically the first thing I started writing when I got back to Keanu fandom after Parabellum, but it remained sitting on my files because it still felt weird to write and share rpf. But after so many rewrites, I think I’m finally ready to do it. I’ll be posting new chapters every Monday and I’d love some feedback. The entire thing is set in 2013.

Wordcount: 2174

Warnings: none for this part

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

As Lilah stood outside the address given to her, she took a deep breath and asked herself for the third time what was she thinking when she let Isaac talk her into doing this. She had so much to do.

Sure, she had the morning off since her advisor was out of town for a conference, but Lilah still could have been prepping her Monday class or even reviewing her paper.

But Isaac knew her too well. He argued that it had been ages since she had taken a day to herself and as soon as the words movie set came out of his mouth, she dropped everything else and came running. The prospect of since the cinema magic working up close was too good to pass up.

So, she waited outside the set, waiting until Isaac finally showed up, dark curls sticking to his reddish face, probably from jogging through the building. He flashed the security staff a quick bright smile, before ushering Lilah inside, guiding the way through a maze of corridors, walking so fast Lilah barely had the time to take a proper look at everything.

“Thanks so much for doing this, Lih! You’re a lifesaver,” he commented over his shoulder. “One of our extras just didn’t show up today and we’re behind schedule already.”

“It’s fine,” she said as they stopped by a table where an agitated looking brunette sat with a clipboard and walkie-talkie. She checked Lilah’s ID, before collecting her contact information and telling Isaac to take her to the wardrobe department to change.

Before Lilah could even finish shoving her ID back in her pocket, Isaac was whisking her away.

“So, what kind of movie is this?” Lilah asked as she exchanged her street clothes for the costume, a beautiful red dress, and some killer heels. “It’s not a rom-com, is it? Izzy, I’ll kill you if you’re making me play extra in a rom-com.”

“It’s an action flick, relax,” he replied, and Lilah could actually hear the eye-roll in his tone. “I will never understand your hatred for rom-coms.”

“What’s to like about them?” she asked stepping out of the dressing room. “They sell women unrealistic, almost pathological expectations for love and romance, also…”

“Lih, this isn’t your dissertation. You don’t have to always take it so seriously.” Isaac said cutting her off as he led her to the hair and makeup chair.

“I mean, one can appreciate all the clichés without really thinking it’s gonna happen to them. I mean, how many couples do you know that started as two unlikely people that are perfect for each other having that first meet-cute then moving on to silently pinning over each other. Then having the classic love triangle that might lead to the epic conflict and break up so they can have a heartfelt reunion later, with the grand romantic gesture, the speech and finally their happy ending…”

And even though Isaac’s words pointed out the improbability of it, his dreamy tone told Lilah he still hoped it could happen to him someday.

Lilah rolled her eyes fondly because he was such a hopeless romantic.

She, on the other hand, prided herself on being pragmatic. She believed in love, of course. She wasn’t that jaded at twenty-nine; but to Lilah, love wasn’t something that just happened. You didn’t just stumble on the love of your life by accident someday.

“You look smoking, honey!” Isaac declared, snapping Lilah out of her thoughts. “Come on! Chad and David are already on set and ready to shoot.”

Lilah only had time to grab her bag before he was leading her once again through the maze of corridors to and ample room that looked a lot like a speakeasy, from the jazz band on the stage, to the smoky air, dim lighting and leather booths.

“Now all you have to do is sit still and look pretty.” He flashed her a teasing smile and ignored her eye-roll. “I’ll check on you during lunch break.”

Lilah waved her goodbye and watched as he moved to a pair of men standing by some monitors talking. They exchanged a few words, before Isaac disappeared again, probably off to run another task.

They filmed for around two hours straight. Lilah couldn’t see much of was going on because her table was facing the band and away from the area the camera seemed to be focused on and she couldn’t exactly turn to see, even if she really wanted to, but she managed to sneak a couple of glances whenever they called cut.

“Ok everybody, let’s take 15,” one of the directors announced.

Lilah stood up, stretching her back to work out the kinks of being sitting still for too long in an uncomfortable chair.

She took a few moments to search for Isaac, but he was nowhere around the main room and Lilah didn’t want to risk getting lost in the building. Instead, she picked a water bottle and a protein bar from craft service and looked for a quiet place to wait for filming to resume.

Lilah found a hidden corner in of the set, out of the way from most of the staff and quiet enough that she could pull out her book. She settled on one of the free chairs to read a little. Soon, she was absorbed by the text, shutting off everything else until a passage caught her attention, and Lilah couldn’t help but snort at it and offer a counterargument under her breath.

“Are you pro or against dualism?” Someone asked from just outside her line of vision, probably catching the cover of her book when Lilah held it closed while digging for a pen in her bag.

“Against obviously,” Lilah replied with a small snort as she looked up, her eyes going wide at the sight before her. Shock making her drop her pen and book, which he picked up.

“Really?” He asked with a curious frown. “Why?”

Lilah as she stared at him, she couldn’t get her throat to work.

He was so much taller than he looked on the screen, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. His dark hair was slicked back with gel, the tips touching his nape. He was spotting a well-trimmed beard, some fake bruises, and a black three-piece suit. Lilah didn’t think anyone could be this handsome, but she was obviously wrong.

“Where are my manners…” he said offering a hand. “Hi. I'm Keanu.”

The gestured kickstarted Lilah’s brain again and she shook his hand with a quick, embarrassed laugh.

“I’m sorry! Hi. Lilah,” she rushed to say. “I’m Lilah.”

“Nice to meet you, Lilah,” he said with a warm smile.

“So, you don’t believe in the mind…” he commented, handing her pen and book back and Lilah did her best to smooth the wrinkled edge.

“As an immaterial entity that exists apart from our bodies like Descartes proposed? Not really. I mean, let’s face it, he just gave it a pseudo-scientific look to the idea of a soul.”

Lilah looked up from her book, catching the way he was watching her with a smile.

“Sorry,” she huffed a breath with an embarrassed smile. Was she really babbling about dualism to Keanu Reeves?

“No, no,” he assured, taking a seat next to her. “Go ahead.”

“Uh… well,” she hesitated, glancing at him again. “I mean, it’s been what? A couple of thousand years? Probably more, but we still can figure out what the mind is.”

“I always thought of it as what makes us human. Theoretically, of course.”

“Ok but wouldn’t that be more like what it does than what it is?” she pointed out. “But let’s run with it, anyway. How does a mind make us human?”

“Well, for one, isn’t it supposed to give us a conscience, intelligence, all that…” Keanu trailed off with a hand gesture and Lilah smiled.

“But those brain functions. Are we saying the mind is the brain?” she couldn’t contain the way her smile widening even more. This was fun.

She loved talking philosophy, but Lilah rarely had the chance of doing it outside a classroom. And here she was actually talking dualism with fucking Neo!

“If it was the same thing, why would we need two concepts?” he inquired, brow furrowing in a small thoughtful frown.

“You just made my point for me,” Lilah said, and Keanu chuckled. “And it can’t be part of the brain either, because theories seem to agree that the mind isn’t material and our brains are very material.”

“Maybe there’s another dimension out there,” he offered with a shrug, leaning forward on his elbows which brought him closer to Lilah.

She bit her bottom lip to suppress the urge of making a Matrix joke.

“Ok, but then how is something that is immaterial influences our very material selves?”

Lilah watched as Keanu paused, considering her argument, that thoughtful frown returning, and Lilah took that time to admire him. If her teen self could see her now, she would probably have a heart attack. Keanu had been her movie crush for as far as she could remember, ever since she watched the Matrix for the first time.

And here he was, in the flesh, just talking to her. It was almost surreal. Was this a dream? Was she going to awake any minute in her bed?

“Alright, you got me,” he said with a smile, catching her attention. “I have no idea, but don’t you think there should be something there? Shouldn’t a man be more than just atoms and chemicals? Something more transcendental?”

“What? You’re a Kant man?”

The words were out of her mouth before she could contain herself. Her tongue slipping on the pronunciation, making it sound like a completely different thing and Keanu busted out laughing, turning bright red.

It took a second for Lilah to realize how it sounded, but when she did, she covered her face with her hands, mortified.

“Oh my God! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…”

“It’s ok,” he assured, still chuckling. “It’s fine. Really. I am not a Kantian, no but I can see the value in his transcendental man theory.”

Lilah tried to make her mouth work, to say something else but all she managed was an embarrassed chuckle. She could feel her cheeks burning.

“I’m so, so sorry…” she managed, voice coming out muffled. “I just…”

“Sometimes you forget to double-check what are you saying before putting it out there?” He asked with a soft smile and she nodded. “I do that all the time. Don’t worry.”

“Is there a way to fix that?” she asked, finally lowering her hands.

“I’ll let you know when I find it,” he replied with a little smile, before he ducked his head, letting out a small chuckle.

For a moment they just sat there, still chuckling together, cheeks red and awkwardly avoiding each other’s gaze, until someone cleared their throat behind them and making both turn around to look.

Isaac stood there with his hand pressed to the earpiece he wore and a clipboard in hand. Lilah could see he was barely containing his smirk as he looked between her and Keanu and she winced, wondering how much he had heard.

“Sorry to interrupt. Keanu, Chad needs you.”

“Thank you,” Keanu said getting up and turning to look at Lilah. “It was very nice to meet you, Lilah.”

“You too,” she replied with a small smile, watching as he walked away before turning to look at Isaac with wide eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you worked with Keanu Reeves?”

“I don’t work with him, I work around him,” Isaac pointed out with a frown. “Also, that was the nerdiest flirting I’ve ever seen.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting.”

“Yeah, right!” Isaac snorted in disbelief. “Come on. Break’s over.”

Lilah followed Isaac back to the main area of the set and the same table from before. This time, she caught a glimpse of Keanu chatting with one of the directors. She thought his lips quirked into a smile when he saw her, but she was probably just imagining as she sat down again.

“Shit! I should have asked for an autograph. Or is that too weird?” Lilah asked Isaac.

She was doing so well, but that Kant thing threw her off and she went right back to that strange awkwardness she usually had around people she found attractive. Lilah really thought she had outgrown that.

“It’s not weird. Extras ask for autographs all the time,” Isaac said with a shrug. “And maybe while you at it, you can ask him out.”

“Haha.” Lilah rolled her eyes at the way Isaac wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Isaac, no! It’s Keanu Reeves. Are you nuts?”

“Fine,” he replied with a huff, but the glint of amusement in his eyes didn’t fade. “But you do know what that felt like right?”

Lilah frowned in confusion and he flashed her an excited grin.

“It felt straight out of a rom-com.”

tbc

Go to part 2

Taglist (give me a shout if you want to added.)

@poisonedjoinery @ringa-starr @curly-minnie @i-cant-remember-my-old-login

@caryled @beyond-antares @kathorax @krazycags01 @meetmeinthematinee

@red-pill-blue-pill @baphometwolf666

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x ofc #fanfic #this isn't a rom-com #series #original character

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carry-the-sky · 5 years

Text

so delicate the bones

Five months since the hospital. Five months of hearing about him on the news, reading about his exploits in the paper, and unlike the last time he came back from the dead, none of it is speculation now. Frank Castle, the Punisher—

She sees that goddamn skull wherever she looks.

kastlesmutweek 2019 || tantalizing tuesday // ‘i need a place to stay’ + bed-sharing (or couch-sharing, in this case)

+ the following prompts from @spaceismymuse: the cold, sharp smell of the first frost / the smell of blood / the feeling of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade

also on ao3!

This is the stupidest thing she’s ever done.

The thought buzzes in her skull, or maybe it’s just the sedan shuddering as she hits another rut in the road. Karen tightens her grip on the steering wheel. In five-point-two miles, your destination will be on the right, her GPS had assured her almost half an hour ago.

She flicks her eyes towards it now, tracking the snaking blue route line and the coordinates it leads to. Something constricts beneath her ribs.

One thing at a time, Karen. Current priority is to not die on this back-country forest service road.

Said road — a very relative term for the narrow, winding stretch of gravel she’s currently white-knuckling her way up — switchbacks sharply, and Karen pumps the brakes. “Shit,” she hisses, and the back tires protest, spinning against dirt, before catching again.

Stupid. This whole thing is so, so stupid.

The trees are starting to thin, and between them Karen catches glances of frost-swept hills that arc against a clear, cold sky. She’s reminded sharply of home, how quiet everything was beneath that first blanket of fresh-fallen snow. Maybe that’s why Frank’s here.

Frank.

She sees that goddamn skull wherever she looks.

“In point-seven miles, your destination will be on the right,” the GPS chirps. Her stomach churns, a mixture of nerves from the drive and uncertainty about what’s waiting for her at the end of that thin blue line. Her eyes ricochet between it and the road, heart kicking in her chest as the number of miles slowly drops— point-two miles, point-one—

There. Nestled a short distance back in the trees is a small cabin. It looks cozy enough, with its snow-dusted roof and smoke curling up from the chimney, and that’s what gives her pause, her foot sliding over the brake pedal and slowing the car to a stop. It’s too cozy. Very much the opposite of Frank.

Karen’s considering the possibility of turning around, driving out back the way she came and attempting to forget this whole thing, when the cabin’s front door swings open.

It’s him. She’d recognize that stance, those sloping shoulders, anywhere. Even from this distance, she can see that he’s let his hair and beard grow out.

He hesitates a moment, then lifts an arm in greeting.

Karen’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry.

The cabin is— nice. Really nice. When Frank had called her a couple days ago, asking to meet and giving her these coordinates, she’d pictured him holing up in a shack somewhere. She’d pictured guns and a dingy mattress, not a fully-furnished living room and pictures on the walls.

“Lieberman?” she asks, inspecting the closest photo. David and his family, she’s assuming. All four of them are laughing, looking at each other and not at the camera.

“Yeah,” Frank says. He’s watching her in that way he does, like he can see every thought rattling around in her head. “His place. Mostly uses it in the summer, with the kids. He, uh, didn’t approve of my last apartment. Called it a ‘murder lair’.”

Karen laughs. “Sounds like a smart guy.”

“Too smart,” Frank snorts, but he’s grinning. Karen thinks abruptly of the photo of him at the carousel, arm slung around Maria and Frank, Jr., Lisa’s bright smile, all teeth.

It’s a little strange, seeing him smile now. The thought makes her sad.

“You want a beer?” he asks.

“Please,” she says, settling herself on the couch in the living room.

She lets her gaze follow him as he moves around the kitchen with the fluidity of someone who’s comfortable with this routine. He seems so at ease, so calm. Something just sideways of anger simmers under her skin— hadn’t she offered him this? A normal life, a way out, together? Somewhere, somewhen, it could’ve happened. There was only one problem—

I don’t want that.

“You find the place okay?” Frank asks, returning with the beers.

“Okay enough,” she says. “I used to drive roads like these all the time back home. Guess the city’s made me soft.”

"Where’s home?”

"Middle of nowhere, Vermont.”

She doesn’t elaborate, her unspoken question filling the silence that follows. Why am I here, Frank?

He takes the hint.

“I owe you an apology,” he says. “For the hospital. I shut you out, after you stuck your neck out for me. I’m sorry, Karen.”

She just looks at him for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him fidgeting, his knee bouncing. “I can handle rejection, Frank,” she says. “We’re not in high school. What disappointed me was the reason why.” She hears how tight her voice sounds, and takes a breath before continuing. “You know, you know how I feel about— what you do. You deserve more, Frank. We both do.”

It feels good, saying all of this, feels good knowing hers aren’t the only heavy shoulders in the room. Frank’s been thinking about this. He’s been thinking about her.

“I thought—” his eyes dart away, then back. “I thought the war was what I wanted. Thought I needed it, yeah? I needed it, wasn’t myself without it. There’s a part of me still buried in that desert, Karen. I need you to understand that. That’s the part I gotta live without. Thing is— the thing is, I didn’t think I could ever be Frank Castle again. He died that day in Central Park, right, every last bit of him, dead, gone. I had to be someone else. I had to be. Putting on that vest— it was a choice, but it was more than that. It was a necessity. That vest kept me alive, Karen. I know how batshit that sounds, I know it, but—” his eyes bore straight into hers, as if willing her to understand what he’s saying. “That’s why I shut you out. You make it so goddamn easy to forget, Karen. When I’m— when I’m with you, it’s hard to remember that Frank Castle’s dead.”

He’s watching her so intently she feels like she might split in half beneath the weight of his gaze. The beer is long-forgotten in her hand; she feels the condensation, now, beads of it slicking her palms.

“You’re not—” she swallows, hard. “You’re still—”

“Still the Punisher, yeah.”

“So where does that leave us, Frank?”

“I don’t know,” he says, his face darkening. “I don’t know, Karen.”

For a horrible, swollen moment, she wants to yell at him. She wants to scream at the top of her lungs, scream until her throat burns. They’re right back where they’ve always been— the skull in one hand, Frank Castle in the other, and yeah, maybe asking him to choose between the two is unfair, but so is this—

Karen blows out a breath and the fury follows, gone as quickly as it hit.

“Well,” she sighs, waving her beer bottle, “looks like we’re we’re gonna need something stronger than this to figure it out.”

The rest of the night is a honey-colored blur. Frank discovers a bottle of Jack stashed in the cabinet above the sink, and they pass it back and forth as the sun dips low in the sky. Karen starts to feel it halfway through her third glass, warm and tilty like the world’s slightly off its axis. City-living has made her soft — she’s a fucking lightweight, now — but if Frank notices, he doesn’t say anything.

They skirt the nebulous, looming elephant in the room, and instead take turns filling in the blanks from the past year. Matt, Billy Russo, a copycat Daredevil, a leaked NSA disc, the attack on the Bulletin — Frank’s knuckles go white, gripping his glass.

“Don’t,” Karen warns, just as he’s opening his mouth to say something. “You’ve apologized to me once already, Frank, and I appreciate it, but you don’t need to again.”

Frank laughs harshly. “That’s bullshit, Karen. I should’ve been here, I should’ve been here for you.”

She hesitates a moment, neither agreeing or arguing. “You mean a lot to me, Frank,” she says. “But I don’t rely on you. I can’t. Every time you come back into my life, I wonder if it’s the last time.”

Frank tilts a glance up at her, his face a tangle of emotion. Suddenly self-conscious, Karen tears her eyes away and turns to look out the window. It’s now completely dark outside; even if she wasn’t on the other side of tipsy, there’s no way in hell she’d attempt to drive down that road in the middle of the night.

Frank must read something in her expression, because he crosses the room and starts digging something out of the hall closet. When he returns, Karen sees a pile of blankets in his arms.

“You sure?” she asks, hesitant. It’s not like either of them planned this, but it still feels like they’re stepping over a line.

“C’mon, Karen.” Frank jerks his chin towards the couch. “I’ll sleep out here. Bed’s too soft for me, anyways.”

“How chivalrous of you,” Karen says, or tries to, before her words dissolve into a cavernous yawn. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was until now.

“Bedroom’s just through there,” Frank says, gesturing down the hall.

“Thanks.” Her body’s moving before she can talk herself out of it, rocking up from the couch to lean in and kiss him softly on the cheek. “Goodnight, Frank.”

“Night,” he rasps, low in his throat. He’s so close she can taste the Jack when he exhales, can see the flecks of green in his eyes. Her pulse is thunder in her ears. She should move away, she should move away now—

“Karen,” he breathes, and a warmth entirely unrelated to her buzz unfurls in the pit of her stomach. She wants to hear him say her name again. She wants to kiss him, and so she does, pressing her lips firmly to his.

This, this right here, is the stupidest thing she’s ever done, but she can’t bring herself to care, not when he’s kissing her back. His mouth is softer than she expects, but she doesn’t want soft. Emboldened, she snags his lower lip between her teeth and nips.

He hisses through his teeth, pulls away, and her stomach plummets. She fucked it up, how did she fuck it up already—

But then she looks up. He’s staring at her in a way he never has before, with a wild hunger that sends a thrill skittering down her spine. He’s looking at her like he wants to pull her apart, make her beg for it.

“You sure about this?” he says, rough like he’s having trouble breathing. “You’re in charge here, Karen—”

She responds by kissing him again. He tastes like Jack, smoky-sweet, and she slides her tongue past his teeth. He groans low in his throat; the slow-moving heat in her belly erupts, and she digs her nails into his shoulder. The other hand darts to his belt.

Frank follows her lead. His fingers move deftly, making quick work of the belt and his pants, and then his hands are at her waist, tugging softly at her sweater. She wrenches it over her head, and his hands slide over her bare skin, splayed just beneath her ribs. She can feel his hesitance, the uncertainty in his touch. Something flickers in the back of her mind, a small warning voice. They’ve crossed a lot of lines together, but not this. Never this. She’s not sure how either of them will come out the other side unscathed.

He’s watching her carefully, pupils blasted wide and his lips slightly parted. There’s a bruise blossoming across his temple, dark circles smudged under his eyes. Familiar landmarks.

Karen reaches up and draws her fingers softly against his cheek. His eyes shutter closed at her touch, his breath swooping out in a shaky burst, and her heart clenches. She meant what she’d said— she can’t, and won’t, expect anything from him after this, but right now—

Frank opens his eyes. Okay? they seem to ask.

She nods softly. Okay.

They come together again, slowly this time. His hands cradle her waist and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down onto the couch with her. His mouth is everywhere, taking his time, lips drifting to the hollow of her cheek, then down, tracing her jawline. She shudders, tipping her head back, and the movement shifts her hips forward, against his thigh.

He growls. In one swift movement, he’s pinning her to the couch, the full-length of him pressing against her. It’s good, it’s better than good, but not enough. She wants more.

“Off,” she commands, grabbing at his shirt. He wrestles it off and her fingers scrabble at her bra and jeans, tossing both unceremoniously to the floor. Frank settles over her, bearing weight through both his elbows as he stares down at her with a mixture of hunger and awe. One of his hands slips behind her head, his huge palm cupping her skull. The other scours a line of fire down her sternum — she arches as his thumb skims the curve of her breast — and slips under her panties.

God, she wants this. She wraps one leg around Frank’s waist, urging him down, and he complies, pushing himself off the couch and onto the floor as he slowly peels her underwear off. The palm of his hand is hot and firm against her thigh as he slings her leg over his shoulder and lowers his head.

It’s been a while since someone’s touched her like this — more than a while. She spasms as Frank’s teeth graze her inner thigh, and he freezes. He’s got a hand on her leg, still, and his thumb presses softly to the jut of her ankle. A signal-flare, something to say, I’m here.

Karen glides a hand through his hair, tugs gently. I know. I’m okay.

And then his mouth his moving again, his tongue slow and slick. Her heart’s beating so fast she thinks it might burst out of her chest. She screws her eyes shut and tries to breathe. The world narrows, everything going concave— nothing is real beyond Frank and his mouth and the tension winding up in her gut. His tongue is moving faster now, laving up her slick-hot center. It’s too much—

Her orgasm hits like a punch. Karen feels all the breath leave her lungs in a guttural cry, her chest heaving. Frank’s breathing hard too; she pulls at him feebly, and he drags himself up to rest his head against her belly. They stay like this for several moments, her fingers buried in his hair and his breath tickling the plane of her stomach.

He moves first, propping up on his elbows to look at her. “You okay?” he asks, voice hoarse.

Karen grins and stretches languorously. “Fuck, yeah, I’m okay.” She slips a hand down and laughs softly when her fingers graze against the firm bulge of his erection through his boxers. “Looks like you’re doing okay, too.”

Frank dips his head and kisses her, slow and deep. “You gonna do somethin’ about that?”

Karen laughs against his mouth, working him free of the boxers. Her hand glides around his dick, stroking the length of it. “On your back, Frank,” she whispers, pushing him down and straddling his waist.

Frank gazes up at her. She can feel him trembling beneath her hands. The Punisher, at her mercy.

“As you wish, ma’am,” Frank says. Karen laughs harder, and gets to work.

Some time later, boneless and sweaty and feeling more at peace than she has in a long time, Karen lifts her head to see that Frank’s eyes are shut, his breathing slow and rhythmic. She’s sprawled on top of him on the couch, their bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs. Hardly the most comfortable position to sleep in, but here he is, fast asleep. Karen watches him for a moment, committing the way his face looks in this moment to memory. She can hear his heartbeat, and she closes her eyes, anchoring herself to the sound. She’s here, with Frank, and then she’s floating, falling away.

She’s in her old apartment. It’s exactly how she remembers— white walls, white carpet. A blank slate. It’s exactly the same, except—

There’s a man face-down on the floor, and a smell, sharp and metallic, so strong she’s surprised she didn’t notice it sooner. Her stomach clenches. Something’s wrong, this isn’t— this isn’t her apartment, after all, it can’t be. She turns on her heel and starts towards the front door—

There’s nothing there, nothing but a blank stretch of wall. Heart thudding painfully, she spins in every direction, looking— but the windows are gone, too. Turning slowly, her gaze settles on the man on her floor. There’s something, something like a rusty stain on the carpet, framing his head like a halo. How did she not see it before?

It’s very important, suddenly, that she see his face. She takes a few cautious steps towards him, nudges his torso with her foot, and when he doesn’t stir she reaches down to tug at his shoulder.

The body flops supine.

No, this isn’t— this isn’t what happened—

Kevin’s empty eyes are staring up at her.

Karen bolts up, then instantly wishes she hadn’t. Her head pulses, bright spots fuzzing in and out behind her eyes. She blinks once, again, and the living room slowly materializes, dark but splintered with milky sunlight. She’s still on the couch. There’s a blanket, twisted between her legs. Frank—

He’s there, the shape of him slumped against the side of the couch. He must’ve moved in the night, but he didn’t leave.

There’s a lump forming in her throat, pressure stinging behind her eyes. It’s too much, this is too much. She needs some air, she needs to be somewhere else.

Moving as quietly as she can, Karen extricates herself from her blankets and searches in the half-darkness for her clothes. She feels around in vain for a few moments for her sweater, then gives up and pulls her undershirt on over her head. Shivering, Karen snags one of the blankets from the couch, draws it around her shoulders, and slips out the front door.

The smell hits her at once, sharp and crisp in the winter air. There’s a thin layer of frost on the ground, dusting the tips of the trees. It makes everything look softer.

Karen curls onto the chair that’s propped on the porch, flinching as her bare legs graze the cold wood. She wraps the blanket more securely around her. The frosty winter landscape before her, while, beautiful, only serves to remind her once more of Vermont, which reminds her of her brother.

She squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. It’s been months since her last nightmare, and of course, of course, the night after she’s been with Frank—

Karen doesn’t believe in things like fate, but it does feel like a cruel coincidence, like the universe is reminding her why she can’t have the things she wants. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to be happy.

“Karen?”

Frank emerges from the cabin, fully-dressed but barefoot. He has a wild, slightly-panicked look in his eyes. Karen feels a stab of guilt. Did he think she would leave without saying goodbye?

“Hey,” she says simply.

“Are you—” he shifts his weight between his feet, rubbing his arms. “Are you okay? It’s fuckin’ freezing out here—”

“I had a bad dream. Just needed to get some air.”

He nods, but doesn’t press her. She feels a swell of gratitude. Of all people, Frank understands.

They’re both quiet for a beat. Frank’s still shuffling between his feet, so Karen looks at him and says, “You should go back inside before you get frostbite. I’m okay, I promise.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but seems to decide it’s better if he doesn’t. “Okay,” he says, holding her eyes for a second before turning and going back inside.

She’s not sure how long she stays outside. Her thoughts blur, hazy like the thin scattering of clouds in the sky. Finally, aware that she’s starting to lose feeling in her lower extremities, she stands and pulls the cabin door open.

Frank is sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, but he snaps his eyes up at the sound of her coming back inside. Karen moves towards him and settles herself beside him on the couch.

“Hey,” she says again.

“Hey,” he echoes.

She drops her eyes to her hands. The silence that stretches between them isn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it’s heavy, full of all the things they should and need to say in the aftermath of the previous night.

“So,” she begins, and feels him tense beside her. “Last night.”

When she glances sideways at him, she sees that he’s squeezing his hands together, his knee jittering up and down. She leans over and folds a hand over his, squeezing gently. “Last night was amazing, Frank.”

His leg stills. “It was, yeah,” he agrees, the corners of his mouth turning up. His eyes search her face, then drift lower, to where the blanket that’s still around her shoulders has slid off her shoulder. He reaches up and drags his thumb across her bare skin. “Will you stay?” he asks, softly.

“You want me to?”

Frank snorts. His thumb is still moving in lazy circles over her shoulder. “Think you know the answer to that.”

“I do, but I want to hear you say it, Frank.”

He dips his head, presses his lips to her bare shoulder. “I want you to stay, Karen.”

She tucks a finger under his chin, lifting it so she can kiss him gently. “I’ll stay, then.”

There’s more to say, but for now, this is enough.

#kastle #kastlesmutweek #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #my fic #my edit #only a few days late ack

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winchester90210 · 5 years

Text

The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x10: Isn't It Romantic?

Rewrite Masterlist

Read the previous chapter here!

My work is not to be reposted and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!)

Chapter Summary: Dylan and Brenda's hook up causes everyone to reassess how they feel.

Warnings: A makeout scene! Lots of feelings, colds, condoms, more feelings, 2 different fights, mentions of sex, a little fluff, guilt, cuddling with a sick person, platonic (?) cuddling, swearing, angst, possible pining depending on how you look at it?

Word count: 4,000

A/N: This was definitely one of my favorites! Brenda and Dylan are one of my favorite couples ever so I'm looking forward to that. Don't cuddle with contagious people, folks.

Feedback is incredibly appreciated!

"Hey, B," you strolled over to Brandon in the Walshes backyard. The sun, per usual was unrelentless and aggressive, bright. But the birds were chirping, you were at the Walshes, and you felt great.

"Hey Y/N/N,"

"Uh-oh, how's Mondale?" You placed your hand on the hood of the Chevy, and tapped it with the pads of your fingers, observing the car's fleshed out state.

"Oh, he's fine, just tuning him up a little," A loose grey tank top hung on his shoulders, grease from the car in every odd place on his body. And he still had the audacity to look that good. "We're still on for the movie tonight, right?"

"What, like I would miss seeing Animal Crackers on the big screen? I'd hope you wouldn't take me for a fool, Walsh," You smile, and he grins back, wiping off the tool, twisting it in his hand.

Dylan slides out from under the car, just as grease-laden as his friend. He smiles up at you, squinting from the sun. He takes the wrench from Brandon, "That's what I kept tellin' him, no girl in her right mind can resist Animal Crackers."

All four of you crowd around the movie theater table, setting your drinks, various amounts of snacks, and a large bucket of popcorn down. A girl, tall with curly blonde hair struts over.

"Hi Dylan," she smiles.

"Hey, how you been?" He chuckles, lips wrapping around the straw of his soda.

"Great," she taps her straw on his shoulder, breaking it open and pulling it out with her teeth. With that, she walks off.

"Friend o' yours?" Brandon asks.

"Well, we used to hang out a little bit. I would've introduced you guys, but I forgot her name,"

"Nice," Brenda nods.

"What a gentleman," you add.

"Wait, it's not my fault! She keeps changing it! To-- to things like 'Tanya' or 'Blue' 'cause her real name is something like 'Gertrude', or 'Beatrice', or 'Brenda,'" He quips, dangerously close to cracking up at his own joke. Brenda takes her straw and jams it against his shoulder, taking it out with her teeth and walking off. You smile delightedly to the boys and follow Brenda in.

Rock music fills the apartment as you sit down on the sofa, Brandon directly to your right.

"This sound system is incredible! I mean, it's like it's alive!" Brenda praises the stereo as she sits down onto the ottoman.

"Yeah, you don't just hear it, you feel it!" Dylan enthuses.

"Sub-woofers, right?!" Brandon asks.

"You got it," Dylan answers. The doorbell to the apartment buzzes, making him hop to his feet. "Foodage!"

"Hey, thanks for letting me come with you guys," Brenda says.

"Oh, no problem! It's nice having another girl here,"

"Yeah, and you play cards, right? Maybe you could come with us again," he leaned over the back of the sofa, "What do you think, McKay?!" Brandon shouts back to him, who's got four paper bags in hand as he makes his way back.

"Absolutely!" The four of you pounce on the bags, immediately digging into them.

"Hey, these fries are just like at the hotel," Brandon comments.

"They are from the hotel, ever since my dad closed the suite, Henry sends them to me because he knows we need our fix," He juts his pointer finger out and wiggles it between you and him.

"He gave up the suite? What happened?"

"Long story," he sits onto the floor, and looks up at Bren, "Hey! It's your turn, pick 'em!" Brenda shuffles through the different rock CDs on the table.

"Okay, okay! What about--" she hands one to Dylan, "--that?" Dylan gives her a sceptical "Are you serious?" Look before taking it.

"Ha, yeah okay," He giggles, taking it out of the case. Dylan shows both you and Brandon,.to which Brandon responds

"Oh, no, absolutely not!" All four of you begin to bicker light-heartedly, the CD issue clearly very polarizing.

Oh, joy. Let the wonders of the Health class sex unit begin. With Steve Sanders directly behind you, Brenda to your left, and David & Scott in front of you this class was always... interesting. The class period starts and Steve leans forward.

"Did you ever notice that when the subject turns towards sex Mr. Kravitz starts playing with his beard?" You and Brenda turn forward and see-- you guessed it! Mr. Kravitz your 45-year-old, Jewish, white, male teacher playing and scratching beard. Twin looks of disgust are thrown back Steve's way. He was right. And you were never going to be able to unsee that. Gross.

You're sitting at Brandon's blanket-covered feet as he sneezes for the tenth time that night. The blue robe he's wearing matches his eyes and his scratchy, deep, sick voice has got you melting when it definitely shouldn't be. He's still hot when he's sick. What an asshole.

Brenda waltzes in, her shoes clicking against the hardwood, ready to go for the second night of Marx Bros. festivities. She sits next to Brandon on the ledge of the couch, legs on the ground.

"I hope you feel better!"

"Hey, come on. It'll be fun. You can be the nurse, and Dylan can be the orderly," He jokes, his voice low and raspy. Fuck hormones and the horse they rode in on, because you're actually attracted to him right now.

"You don't want us to get sick, do you?" She responds. Brenda hops up when she hears the car horn. "Bye guys!" She's out of the door before anyone else can get a word in.

"Wait a minute, she's going out alone with that guy?" Jim complains, stacking up the piles of paper on his desk.

"Apparently," Cindy shrugs. Jim's pouting like a child, and stomps out of the room. His wife is following behind him, looking to calm him down.

"So I see your dad's a fan of Dylan," you jokingly muse.

"Yeah, they're buddies, I think I think he’s inviting Dylan out for golf and a movie," He smiles, "Are you sure you want to stay here? I don't know how much fun this is going to be." Brandon raises his mug of tea to his lips.

"I'm positive. I mean I've seen Duck Soup about a million times anyway," you assure him, "How are you feeling, by the way? Need more cough syrup?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks," He sits up, scooting over yo the far edge of the couch, "C'mere."

"What? Brandon, you're sick,"

"C'mere!"

"Brandon,"

"Y/N,"

"Fine," You show faux discontent as you lie down in the empty space, "I'll bite. What are we watching tonight?"

"Well, I've narrowed it down to either Quantum Leap or Magnum P.I."

"Oh, go with Quantum Leap, no question."

You stir back onto your side from your stomach, and your nose is met with the soft skin of Brandon's cheek. You moan sleepily and inhale, preparing yourself to get up even though it's the last thing you want to do. You open your eyes, trying to blink the sleep out of them. Your left hand is currently draped over his chest, with your legs intertwined with his. You needed to get up but... he was warm, and welcoming, and gentle and... your home definitely was not. You inch yourself up, getting up as gently as possible, lifting your arm up from him. He lets out a gravelly groan and wraps his arms around you.

"Stay."

"It's late, B," you yawn, "I'll see you tomorrow."

He mumbles a sleepy "mhmm," and you stand up, straightening out your clothes. "Love you, Y/N/N." WHAT?!

Okay, he's hopped up on cough syrup. It doesn't mean anything. It might've been an accident. Y'know, like when you tell the pizza guy you love him? Right? Right?

You're sitting own on the carpet of your bedroom floor, parallel to Dylan. The plush eggshell carpet is soft under you but the air in the room is hostile, uneasy, tense. You were sleepy, fighting to keep your eyes open due to it being 3 in the morning. He got here around midnight, and it's been nothing but utter chaos since.

"So, you're sure you're good with me and Brenda?" He tries to catch your gaze but you actively avoid it, your eyes darting to the window, the closet, wherever.

"Brenda and I," you correct him jokingly, but the playful part of it doesn't carry through in your voice. "I'm happy for you guys."

"Y/N," He starts.

"Dylan, don't," you beg, "On the off-chance that I wasn't okay with it, what good would it do? What would it change?"

"I- I need to know where we're at," He stresses, "Because you're sending me about a million different signals right now. I'm exhausted, Y/N/N. I need to know how you feel."

"I think..." you sigh, pondering, "you need to be with Brenda, if that's what you want."

"Stop telling me what you think and tell me how you feel," He urges. You bolt to your feet looking to escape, but he joins you, with a gentle grip on your shoulders. If he was anyone else, you would've been scared. But it was him. And you weren't.

"I feel like you need to be with my best friend. She's the one wanting to be with you, and she's the one you started dating." His jaw clenches, and he takes a deep shaky breath. His grip on you drops before he speaks again, his voice much quieter, much softer than before.

"Do you have feelings for me?" You're taken back by his boldness, your eyes widened and your brows furrowed. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing seems right. So you stay quiet. "Y/N, come on." His eyes search yours, desperate for an answer, a hint to what's going on inside your head.

"Maybe I did when I first got here, but--" you run your hands through your hair, inhaling. "Dylan, we're friends. That's all we're ever going to be, and that's all I want to be," He paces around your room as you sit back onto the foot of your bed, it faintly squeaks under you.

"Do you really believe that?" He laughs sourly. "We've never been just friends, and you know it." The faintest scowl was on his face, whether it was from disappointment or annoyance you couldn't tell. "You really think there isn't anything between us?"

"Yes! Because there isn't!" You're shouting now, desperately. And by all meanings of the word you're frustrated. Intensely. And thankful that your parents decided to go out tonight. "I can't do this to Brenda!"

"You wouldn't be doing anything. She's not my girlfriend, we're not getting married, hell, we're barely even friends! It was one kiss!"

"If the kiss was so insignificant, why tell me at all?!"

"Why are you so bent out of shape over this--"

"Why are you?! I--"

"Would you just shut up for a minute?!" His voice was boisterous, livid, you wouldn't be surprised if Eric could hear from the other side of the house.

"Make me!"

You're not sure how long you two had been bickering at this point. It had been going on all night. About Brenda, about Brandon, Steve, Dylan's dad, Mondale, pie. And every single time it circled back to the same topic: feelings. It was a topic that both of you were well acquainted with but not always willing to talk through. Especially when it had to do with each other. But you weren't losing this without a fight, because if you cared about your friendship with Brenda at all, you had to stick up for her. The weird thing is, these past few months you and Dylan had been drama-free. No spats, no arguments, no sparring. And now? You were both swinging at the other person whenever you could get a hit in.

Wednesday morning came around, and Brandon was trying to catch up with Dylan as he raced down the hall.

"Dylan? How's it goin'?"

"Gettin' by, how's the cold?"

"Better, thanks,"

"Where's Y/N/N? Aren't you two usually following each other around like lost little puppies?"

"She's sick," Brandon sighs, "I feel real bad about it too, it's kind of my fault. She stayed over the night you and Bren went out." Yeah, cuddling with a guy that has a major cold? Bad idea. "How was the movie, by the way?"

"We didn't make the movie," He shrugs.

"Hi," Brenda grins. She places a soft kiss to Dylan's cheek as he puts his arms around her.

"Brenda, hi,"

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't go to the movie?"

"How'd it go with Brandon playing nurse?" Kelly smirks.

"Fine," you laugh, "He came over, we played monopoly, I got high on cough syrup, we watched some Hartley House reruns. It was... fine."

"Oh, he is majorly into you," Kelly muses.

"He is not!" You argue. Crossing your arms over your chest, you continue, "He's just returning the favor."

"He's totally hooked. What guy would spend 6 hours at a girl's house when she's phlegmy and sneezing if he wasn't already completely in love with her?"

"I agree with Kel, Y/N/N. Brandon didn't stop talking about you after he got back! Y’know, he can be so sweet when he's not faced with the challenges of sticking up for me and Dylan. It's like they're all in this conspiracy to take away the most exciting and best thing that's happened to me since we moved here!" Brenda rants. Kelly lies on her side, flipping through a magazine with her back to you both.

"That's why you're going to keep your date with Dylan and sleep at my house," You pick up one of Kelly's discarded magazines. "You can't let your parents stop everything fun that ever happens to you."

"This is going so fast," She's apprehensive as she speaks, her brows creasing slightly.

"And we're just talking about it, wait till you get to the real thing," Kelly smirks.

"I guess I'm more into the romance angle, like in the movies,"

"That's all well and good for the movies, but you do have protection right?" Kelly looks up from her Cosmopolitan to eye Brenda up. Brenda pauses, and swallows.

"Well, no,"

"Open that drawer," She points to her nightstand, and Brenda pulls out a small wooden box, "Basic rule number one-- Never rely on the guy. Memorize that." She opens it up,

"You sound so clinical," Brenda criticizes anxiously. Kelly rolls her eyes, taking a silver condom out.

"Dear, clinical is 'What time shall we schedule the procedure?'"

Brenda's jaw drops, "Kelly, that's awful!"

"Would you rather be sitting around and thinking about names? How about Dylan Jr. or Brendina?" Brenda sighs jaggedly.

"Fine, I'll take 'em. But this is not the part I want to be thinking about."

"If it goes well you won't be thinking at all. Here Y/N/N, take some too." She tosses a few to you, and you catch them with a soft clap.

"Kelly, I'm just getting over my cold. I don't think I'm going to be bedding anyone soon," you laugh.

"You never know," she shrugs, "it could come in handy."

"Hey Dylan, where you going so fast?"

"Got to be someplace, what's up?"

"I was hoping you could help me work on my car this weekend,"

"Look, I'd like to, but my old man got back in town. He's got... it's a long story,"

"You don't have time to tell me about it?"

"Not really,"

"Oh, but you do have time to make out with my sister and flirt with Y/N," He bites, nostrils flaring and eyebrows furrowed.

"What's your point?"

"My point is you better really like my sister. She's very romantic, and dreamy, and sweet and she's not going to move on that easily! Dylan, she's a virgin. And I don't think you should be messing around with Y/N/N when you've already got Brenda.

"I haven't been messing around with-- what kind of jerk do you think I am?" He scoffs, shaking his head, "Have a nice weekend."

You're frantically helping Brenda get dressed, get undressed, get dressed again, and are now helping her do her hair and makeup in the mirror. She's been so nervous all night, now you're nervous and it's not even your date.

"Earrings?" Brenda asks, playing with her hair, "No, I don't need earrings. What else do I need?" Brandon stands in the other side of the bathroom doorway, watching you both pace around the entire time.

"Shoes!"

"Shoes!" She repeats, "Shoes, shoes, shoes!" You race over to her small, but albeit nice shoe collection and help her slip both black heels over her feet. "Okay, okay! What do you think?"

"You look perfect, Bren!" You smile genuinely and excitedly, your eyes crinkling at the edges. She hugs you, and you could practically feel the nerves bouncing around in her. "Have a great time tonight, okay?"

"Okay! Bye Brandon, bye Y/N/N!"

"Bye!" His voice startles you. You'd been so wrapped up in helping Bren look flawless that you didn't even notice he was there.

"I hope everything goes well tonight." You pause, and then step over to him, "What's going on in that head of yours, Walsh?" He was watching you from the moment you got there-- not predatorily or creepily but... fondly. It was unlike him. He was always talkative, with a joke to crack or a comment to make. Dylan was more of the silent observant type. So to see him so speechless was almost concerning.

He says nothing and places a gentle hand under your chin. He lifts it and brushes his lips against yours. If this was a cheesy 80s sitcom, this would be the time the live studio audience would be going nuts because this kiss was... wow.

You return it, and it's an immediate switch of energy. Your hand goes to the back of his head as his hands find themselves against the small of your back and the kiss becomes hungry. Desperate. He worked his mouth against yours, and with his hands and his mouth and the way he felt against you-- your senses were ignited.

You pull away abruptly.

"What?--" you begin. You're both panting lightly, and he's just as flustered as you are. He draws intoxicating little circles on your arm as you both let your breathing calm.

"You wanted to know what was going on inside my head. There you go." Were you blushing? It felt like you were blushing.

"Oh." You look up at him, "Is there a possibility that your train of thought might need to be examined further in the near future?"

"Yeah, I think that's a possibility."

"Brenda?" You enter her bedroom through the conjoining bathroom. Inching closer to her, you see her as she's curled up at window sill, wet cheeks and puffy eyes. She drops the curtain wordlessly and turns toward you. Silently, you wave Brandon in. He tiptoes in and sits at the foot of her bed. You'd never seen her like this before. So vulnerable, so upset. So broken.

You wanna talk?" You ask, sitting down beside her as she sniffles.

"I've been talking to Kelly all night. And it didn't get me anywhere," She bellows, her voice breaking as she speaks. Your stomach wrenched.

"Well, we're open for the morning shift," Brandon offers,

"He didn't show up," she croaks out, "I was ready to spend the night with him. And he didn't show up." Oh, you were so going to kill him later. Brenda looks up at you for the first time that morning, shaking her head in disbelief. "What a jerk, huh?" That total asshole.

"He can be," you nod.

"Not him, me! I thought I was special," her voice comes out wavering and sad.

"You are, Bren," Brandon insists.

"Well, not to him obviously," she tucks a hair behind her ear, "And then finally I call him, and this man told me he was there but that he wouldn't speak to me."

"Brenda, you can't beat yourself up over someone like him," you put a soothing hand on her back.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. I thought he was different... but he doesn't let people in,"

"I don't understand, Y/N! We were so there! Even yesterday out on the lawn, we were together! We were in sync! I was so happy," She's working herself up again, eyes redder and bottom lip quivering as she shouts, "I don't know what happened but something happened!" You were going to crucify that son of a bitch.

"I'm really sorry, Bren,"

"I have to find out what I did wrong," She cries out, "I need to know what happened."

You waltz into the robotics lab on your free period and find exactly who you were hoping for, sitting at the computer.

"Busy lately, Dylan?" Your arms cross over your chest as you lean against the doorframe.

"Well, if it isn't the queen of tact and diplomacy," he retorts, face still in the monitor.

"What the hell is going on with you?" You spit out, "I know you moved. Brandon and I went to your old house. They said you didn't even leave a forwarding address!"

"It's a long story," he dismisses, wheeling over to the other end of the table on his desk chair.

"Would you rather tell it to Brenda?"

"Y/N, don't start that with me, alright! I got the message," he barks, "you don't want me to hurt your best friend!"

"Then why is that exactly what you did?!" You reprimand loudly, trailing behind him as he gets up and walks to the other table. "I need to know that I had nothing to do with you standing her up, and that I had nothing to do with the utter pain that she's in right now." Your eyes are narrowing as he turns to face you.

"Look, it wasn't because of you. Okay? You gotta believe me-- something came up! That's all!"

"It's one thing not to talk to me, Dylan, I get it. But when you do it to her, she feels like she did something wrong!" As you finish your sentence his jaw clenches.

"It wasn't her!" He fumes, "It had nothing to do with her!" His fists clench against the white table.

"Tell her that! She was so upset, Brandon said she even stayed home from school today." You wait for his response, but he ducks his head, breaking eye contact with you. You scoff, "Fine. It's got nothing to do with her, nothing to do with me. Meanwhile, you're not talking to either of us. Makes a ton of sense!" You huff silently, "See you later, pal."

“I can’t believe him! He swears it’s no one’s fault but--” Steve cuts you off.

“You’re just way too emotionally involved with this, who cares? If he says it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault. Guys don’t beat around the bush like chicks always do. if he says it, he means it,” He scoffs as you both trail down the hall. You think for a minute. Somewhere under the misogyny and the blatant Steve-ness of that sentiment, there might have been a point. Maybe you were putting too much into it. Maybe you just needed to take a step back and look at it objectively.

“Actually,” you sigh, “you might be right.” Steve’s eyes go wide.

“Wait, really?” You nod. “Can I get that in writing? I want to have it tattooed.” Your eyes roll and you send a light push to his shoulder as you both laugh.

Objective. You could be objective.

The next day you're standing against the beige walls of the school auditorium, as Dylan trots over to you.

"Dylan, before you say anything-- I'm sorry. I totally flipped out on you. It's just been a weird confusing week for me, so if I took out my frustration on you--"

"No, I put you in a weird position with this whole Brenda thing, If it felt like I was trying to make you choose... sides or somethin', well... I'm sorry," He says. You smile at him, and he goes to smile back but he sneezes into his sleeve. "But you can be sorry for giving me your cold," he laughs.

"So, you worked everything out with Bren, huh?"

"Yeah, uh, everything's worked out,"

Before you can respond, Brandon waltzes over to your other side, mumbling a "hey," and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Brandon, hi," you grin as he clasps your fingers with his, bringing your knuckles to his lips. He matches your grin, leaning into you.

"You guys good?" He asks, finger wiggling to you and Dylan.

"Yeah, we're good," you nod, "You two good?"

"We're good," Dylan confirms.

"Good!"

"Good."

Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz @harleylilo88 @princess-ghost-alien @hueycat2004 @l4life

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